Kalakor dropped a good two metres to the street; he didn't even need to roll to negate the fall. Dellenger watching on then they began running again. They both agreed that they weren't going to use their vox-links in case the network had been compromised. Kalakor had stopped using the cloaking technique for fear of it being detected by the psyker, but he was still a shadow amongst shadows, even to Dellenger's gaze.

Dellenger, his feet silent on the rooftops, unslung his lasgun and slid to sidle against a rockcrete chimney. He raised his scope to his eye and activated its low-light vision, turning the streets into a green-lit blurred, hazy world. About sixty metres away, the psyker walked surrounded by the black armoured soldiers; they had separated into two five-man fire teams, their lasguns sweeping around everywhere with disciplined consistency. Lasguns, body armour, this differentiated them from the rest; it reminded Dellenger of Inquisitorial Stormtroopers. Dellenger didn't know why they wielded lasguns instead of hellguns; he supposed it was because a hellgun was much louder and gave off more heat which would be detrimental to a black-ops stealth mission like this. But Dellenger thanked his luck; the penetration power of a Hellgun was a far bigger danger to his Space Marine ally, most certainly. Also, it indicated they had no idea of the presence of an Adeptus Astartes.

Smiling to himself, Dellenger began to clip the scope on his lasgun. He was no sniper, his skill at shooting was above average at best, but that was in comparison to the elite snipers and marksmen and women of the Velrosian 1st regiment. Dellenger preferred to get up close and personal, with bayonet or hand to hand. That was the way of things in his youth, and for the vast majority of his entire life, it'd been hard, damn hard for him to adapt to the world of solid projectile and las weapons, even after all his years serving in the Imperial Guard. But sixty metres, with no wind, a scope and a lasgun which were pretty much the epitome of the "point and shoot" weapon, no need to raise the aim to adjust for gravity; he should manage it. He just hoped the crashing rain would mask the sound of his shot to the enemy.

The timing was where it was complicated; Dellenger had to take out the psyker just before Kalakor could descend on the guards, hopefully slaughtering them before they could send off a vox signal. This was much harder due to the vox network potentially being compromised.

Assuming that Dellenger's las shots can even hit the psyker, but maybe the distraction will allow Kalakor an opening.

Dellenger watched the side of the psyker's shaven skull, then looked further west; the turn southward toward the Refectories was coming up quick; Dellenger did some quick maths and figured the psyker would be out of his line of sight in about half a minute. Dellenger could reposition no problem and take the psyker out as he was headed towards the Refectories, but then they'd be within line of sight of the guards patrolling there.

Dellenger then swept his attention eastward, hoping to see Kalakor stalking them, but there was no sign of him.

Clenching his teeth, Dellenger looked back at the psyker, and his finger twitched on the lasgun's trigger. This type of battle was new to Dellenger; even as a scout trooper, it was rare to encounter psykers on any battlefield, both as an enemy and an ally. It was also rare that Dellenger would be forced into a situation outside of his field of specialisation. In scenarios like this, it'd be a sniper such as Kevril or Tulert on the roof, and it'd be Dellenger and/or his fellow scouts closing in on patrol to take them out in close combat. It was beginning to truly dawn on Dellenger how different this world was to fighting as a soldier on an active front.

But as the ancient proverb said, "adapt or die," but by the Emperor, as he aged and aged, that was becoming harder to do. Kevril, Tulert, the rest of the scouts were all dead now, their bodies buried in the blood sands back on Omnartus.

The Emperor? It'd taken him a long time to take that vernacular up. He refused to take up the "God-Emperor" version, though, and it seemed most of their new employers did the same. His long-dead master had believed devotedly in the God-Emperor, one of the reasons Dellenger had joined the Imperial Guard was because of him, but Dellenger had never believed much in any god, not even those of the long-dead Elbyran religions. His master had taught him in detail of the Chaos gods. Dellenger believed they were by any definition of the word "evil," and their overreliance on mankind's emotions and worship made them unworthy of being entitled "god" despite their power. But the God-Emperor, something about him had seemed off in Dellenger's book, or Adrassil's as he'd been know known back then, someone who would be arrogant enough to label themselves both "god" and "Emperor" as well as His conflicting theologies didn't deserve worship either, despite apparently being the more "benevolent" of them. Well, Dellenger now knew the Emperor was more benevolent after bearing witness to the endless evils and depravity the worshippers of Chaos were more than capable of even compared to the countless injustices and horrific actions done in the God-Emperor's name.

Including those done by the very institution, he was working for.

The Emperor and His Imperium was certainly the lesser of those two evils. But in this terrible, terrible galaxy, there were far too many evils to even begin to count.

Trying to calm his heart as it palpitated throughout him and shaking away his wandering thoughts, The psyker was only a couple of seconds from turning out of sight. Dellenger turned his gaze once again eastward, searching for a sign from Kalakor or anything.

'Come on, come on,' growled Dellenger through clenched teeth.

He waited and waited and...

There it was, a large slight shadow emerging out from an alleyway, just behind the advancing enemies, the rain washing over it for a split second.

Dellenger didn't hesitate as he swung his aim, focused on the psyker's head again and exhaling as he'd been taught to do by Kevril years ago, he pulled the trigger.

And missed, the las shot passed through empty air a mere millimetre behind the back of the psyker's head. Cursing, Dellenger threw himself flat as the psyker's and the soldiers' attentions snapped his way, their weapons raising.

He frigging swore he'd been on target! Dellenger expected them to open fire, but the shots never came, so he peeked over the ledge.

Kalakor crouched over the corpses of the guards and the psyker and was in the midst of tearing his knife from the psyker's head. He then stood and raised the blade in salute.

Dellenger didn't dare return a salute; he just frowned and shook his head. The Space Marine didn't seem to need his help after all. Well, maybe to distract the psyker anyway. He slid his scope off his lasgun and, with it, looked back down on Kalakor.

And Kalakor was gone; the only evidence of his presence was the eleven corpses he left behind.

With a sigh, Dellenger retrieved his gun and began his way toward the Refectories. He had a very small window of time before the enemy realised their psyker was dead. He just hoped no one had heard the crack of his lasgun's discharge and that Kalakor actually had a way to get to that ship.

As Dellenger started on again, a thought occurred to him; maybe he didn't miss, maybe the psyker had a shield protecting him like the one Karmen had used during the main battle back on Sarkeath, but smaller. It made sense, even if he was likely telling himself that just to feel better.


Drevan was silent for a good, long while absorbing Attelus story, that or trying to find some inconsistency in the story. Despite ensuring there were no inconsistencies, Attelus left out a lot, such as the extent of his injuries at the axes of the Arcoflagellant, so having to be rebuilt by Faleaseen, which allowed him to leave her out of it entirely, among many other things. Attelus had tried to keep a lot as vague as possible. Attelus had to roll back a few times when he mentioned something that happened that he'd forgotten to give context to earlier; he hoped that'd give his story more legitimacy in the Inquisitor's dead eyes.

'That was...a strange tale,' said Drevan as he stroked his beard.

'Strange? Strange! Now that's the understatement of the millennia,' Attelus couldn't help blurt out.

Anger flashed across Drevan's face. 'I told you not to talk back to me, but...I will give you the benefit of the doubt after re-living that. Even if I think you have omitted some details.'

Attelus shrugged.

'So, you think it is this Inquisitor Etuarq behind everything? That he has been manipulating fate itself to his own ends?'

'I know he has, and he's still out there, and you're preventing us from continuing our work in taking that bastard down.'

'Right,' said Drevan, smirking that damned smirk. 'And it was you that took the pict that led to the Exterminatus?'

Attelus clenched his jaw. 'Y-yes...I...I thought-'

'You thought you were going to get a question after mine? You broke our agreement by talking back to me before, and I didn't kill anyone, so you lost that privilege.'

Attelus' lowered his gaze to the floor and sighed, you did that on purpose, didn't you, you frigging bastard. Yet again, Drevan had outsmarted him; it showed Attelus still had much left to learn.

'So, what now?' said Attelus.

'If this Etuarq is bending fate itself to his will, how do you think you can defeat him?'

'In all honesty, because we had to try, and there might be strands of fate he can't see.'

'Wishful thinking.'

Attelus grimaced; he wanted to point out if he was a true believer in the God-Emperor in any way, he was a huge hypocrite, as "faith" was such an amazing virtue in their narrow gazes. Anyway, after his father's failure on Sarkeath, it'd been proven true.

That thought made Attelus smile.

'What in the God-Emperor's name are you smiling about?'

'Nothing, Inquisitor. It's nothing, just at my father's idiocy.'

'Your father's idiocy? I would say he could not be one if he managed to become one of the greatest assassins in the Calixis Sector.'

Attelus managed a shrug; had he just managed to fool Drevan? Perhaps he was learning something from this shit-head already?

'So, Jelcine hired all of you after Omnartus' death? Even the rogue mercenary psyker, Karmen Kons.'

'She did,' said Attelus; for some reason, Draven's use of Enandra's first name got to him.

'Hmm,' said Drevan. 'That could be a good excuse for me to go after her, that and the secretive nature behind how Torathe died.'

Attelus sighed again. 'You are aware that Torathe's death was later endorsed not just by Lord-Inquisitor Caidin but all the Ordos seniors? That it was the Grey Knights who wiped out the Space Marine chapter who'd participated in the Exterminatus.'

Drevan sniffed dismissively, then spun and shot an Adept through the face, destroying his skill in a puff of red and screams erupted through the room.

Attelus couldn't help flinching.

The Inquisitor rounded on him and leaned so close to Attelus' face they were almost nose to nose.

'What did I tell you!' Drevan roared, and spittle crashed on Attelus' face.

'I-'

'What did I frigging tell you?'

'N-not to talk back.'

'And what did you just do? What did you just do? First, I let by the fact you neglected to tell me a few bits of information in your re-telling of The Omnartus Incident. Then I let you talk back to me, but then you went and talked back to me again! Don't make me do this, Attelus Kaltos. Do not make me kill again.'

Attelus swallowed, unsure if he was meant to answer and wishing like hell, he could wipe away Draven's spit. By the Emperor, he was a psychopath, and this was the typical manipulation tactics used by abusers to get their quarry to co-operate. "Don't make me do this", even though it's Drevan murdering people on his own volition.

But, damn it, it seemed to be working.

'You do not want me to kill more innocent people, do you? More Imperial Citizens? Like the twenty billion already on your conscience?'

Attelus began to shake, and welling tears clouded his vision; he could no longer hold Drevan's gaze.

'N-no.'

'Repeat that, you little shit, I cannot hear you.'

'N-no!'

Drevan grinned and finally stood away. 'That is a good boy. That is good, so now we have reached an understanding between us. Now I ask you...'

Attelus bit his lip, dreading the Inquisitor's next words but was caught off guard yet again when Drevan said instead, 'that you tell me the parameters of the mission you have just finished.'


His cameleoline cloak still covering him, and lasgun raised Dellenger jogged up to the bodies of the slaughtered guards and the psyker.

Much to his surprise, it wasn't quite as messy as he expected; even though it seemed Kalakor had used his bare hands for all the kills besides the psyker, they were quite clean. The precision was impressive. Dellenger glanced at the psyker; it seemed Kalakor had killed him first by throwing his knife through the side of his skull, then not having time to withdraw it, restored to hands on the rest. Dellenger looked over the bodies again, all the guards were big brutes to a man, bigger than him certainly but even still, the now ancient memory of his time working with Royd and the Velrosian rebel underground flashed through his mind how they would sometimes steal the uniforms of occupying Marangerian soldiers and wear them to infiltrate enemy compounds and such.

It didn't work when you tried it on a fortress with a long-serving garrison as they knew each other well, but when they didn't know...

Which seemed to be the case with their enemies, or at least that was what Dellenger's instincts told him, and he was rarely wrong.

Dellenger grabbed one of the more intact bodies and began to drag it into the nearest alleyway. He frowned; from what he could remember, the las bolt hadn't moved off-target; he'd just missed. Must've miss calculated the shot and fired too close.

With a grimace, Dellenger slipped off his cameleoline cloak; he hadn't much time. But if he managed to get in disguise, what will he do in the Emperor's name then?

An idea then hit him, an inspiration so strong he almost physically reeled. Dellenger smiled, damn glad he managed to record most of Inquisitor Drevan's earlier call to Karmen Kons.

Damn glad indeed.