Even with the enhanced warp drives, it still took them seven weeks to travel to Quoranda. The Audacious Edge with The Xenocide travelling in tow. During that time, all of the Sarkeathian Survivors were kept in confinement, each having their private quarters to keep them separate, even the troopers. If they ever left, they would be escorted and could only go one at a time. All of them, one by one, were subjected to mental and physical tests. Sometimes the same one two or three times. Attelus was tested the most out of everyone, which didn't surprise him at all. He endured the needles, then the hours of pestering, constant questions from the adept-interrogators. Attelus knew they couldn't get any inconsistencies from him. All the while, Enandra kept her distance; why exactly, Attelus could only contend a myriad amount of guesses on.

Attelus didn't mind his confinement; he was glad he was no longer in a place of responsibility. Attelus used that time to train and study. He now saw he needed to know more on the ways of Chaos and its horrid gods, so most of the time, he left his quarters was to fetch and return books. It was disappointing how little there was; perhaps if he had access to an Ordo Malleus librarium, there'd be more. He also wanted to learn more about this "athame" knife his father used. Kalakor may know more, but he was in confinement too. Usually, Attelus tried to avoid learning so much "forbidden knowledge" for the sake of his sanity, however dubious it already was. But after the shit on Sarkeath, he decided he needed to know more. And knowing was half the battle, after all. Every time he went there, he got to see his fellow expatriate, a lovely woman from Velrosia who he'd saved from Omnartus, along with Adelana. He couldn't remember her damn name for the life of him, though.

Attelus was surprised Enandra let him have access to such knowledge while in confinement. They'd expected it, though, so much so that he was surprised that Enandra had been so fast to chase after his lead.

Attelus wondered if Enandra had told anyone the real reason they were leaving Scintilla for such an unknown backwater world. Perhaps all the interrogations and tests were just lip service? Or perhaps was it desperation to finally find a lead for their elusive enemy? He didn't mind the confinement because he was an introvert; he could keep himself amused for countless hours with his thoughts, reading, training, smoking, listening to music. Perhaps even dance a bit from time to time. He had no training, but he had a good sense of rhythm, and it felt nice to go with the flow. Although it would soon descend back into martial arts training, fighting and dancing weren't too far from each other, after all.

Attelus didn't mind the confinement...for now; he hoped things would go back to being the same soon.

He'd heard they were now apparently being called "The Sarkeathian Survivors" and no longer "The Omnartus Survivors", which amused him more than he could say, how one tragedy could replace the last so fast. People had such short memories; it seemed, especially those that had little to no involvement. How the information on their mission had spread through the personnel was beyond him, in all honesty.

It was three days after their last transition there was a buzz at his door, and Attelus opened it with a smoking Lho hanging from his mouth to find Interrogator Arlathan Karkin and sergeant Kollath towering over him. Kollath looked down at Attelus in his typical sneering way, his blond hair close-cropped short, his skin a dark, healthy tan. Attelus couldn't help wonder how many hours he'd spent in the tanning booth. Kollath's features were so square that he seemed like a parody of masculinity or a mini Space Marine.

'Inquisitor wants to speak to you,' said Kollath. 'Emperor only knows why.'

Attelus smiled blandly up the Stormtrooper; he wanted to reply with "The Emperor only knows why I haven't run you through with my power sword yet," but wisely held his tongue.

Everyone knew Kollath and Arlathan were rivals for Enandra's affection, and while Arlathan had his flaws, Attelus had no clue what Enandra saw in the smug sergeant.

'Back smoking, I see,' said Arlathan. 'I can understand after the shit you'd gone through back on Sarkeath...'

A small smile contorted his beard. 'In all honesty.'

'Yeah, yeah, whatever,' sighed Attelus as he slid his hands into the pockets of his flak jacket. 'Let's just get this over and damn well done with, okay?'


Much to Attelus' surprise, he was led to the bridge of all places, where Enandra sat on the command throne, in a black bodyglove. Her long, almost hypnotising legs crossed as she placed her jaw into the palm of her hand.

Beside her was the mute sanctioned psyker Selva; she wore her Primaris Battle psyker beige trench coat and leaned on her staff so much it seemed she was trying to push it through the floor. Her liver-spotted scalp was shaven, and the pipes lodged in the back of her skull seemed to shove her head down into a hunch so low, she seemed to have the build of an ork with her head seeming to sprout from her chest. Her time as a psyker has not been kind to her at all. It made Attelus wonder Karmen, who was so much more powerful, how she managed to look so great. Perhaps that was something to do with Faleaseen's influence on her?

Selva glared at him with what seemed unadulterated hatred. She was puritanical as frig, so Attelus knew she'd rather see him and his fellow 'Sarkeathian Survivors' dead. She'd fixed him with that exact same look when she tried to read his mind for one of the "tests." It'd made him smile, in all honesty, as she had no hope to bypass the psychic block that Faleaseen had put in his head three years ago.

'It's good to see you again, Selva,' said Attelus. 'You're always a bright ray of sunlight in this grimdark galaxy.'

The psyker just sneered and looked to the floor. Attelus looked at the oculus and on it was the magnified world of Quoranda which spun with supine grace among the black void and the stars as if there wasn't a care in the universe. Like the pict on the cogitator data banks, it was mostly covered in the ocean and had two massive, dark green continents. Apparently, and was classified from the regular populace, there was a vast labyrinthine network of tunnels a couple of kilometres beneath the surface. Made out of perfectly square corridors made from some strange rockcrete that certainly didn't seem like wraithbone, it reminded Attelus of his and Adelana's horrific misadventure on Koliath a year ago. The thought caused shivers to course beneath Attelus' skin. It was theorised made by the alien species, the mysterious Yu'vath that'd once ruled the Calixis Sector or, as it was once known, the Calyx Expanse before The Angevin Crusade conquered it. Apparently, a few other planets across the Sector had similar tunnels on Orbel Quinn and Quaddis. Many times over the centuries, many expeditions from many differing organisations had attempted to map the tunnels but have only managed to map a tiny part or have just disappeared entirely. This had interested Attelus immensely, and he couldn't help feeling that their mission might demand they descend into those mysterious tunnels.

'Yes, there it is,' said Enandra. 'Exciting, isn't it?'

Attelus shrugged. 'Just seems like a shittier version of my home-world to me, in all honesty, mamzel.'

'Ah yes, Elbyra, I can see why you think that. It is just another world to me...in all honesty.'

'Fair enough,' said Attelus with a shrug.

There was a long pause, and Attelus kept his eyes on the oculus all the while.

'I'm assuming the tests came back with no problems?' said Attelus.

'They did,' said Enandra. 'The physical ones, at least. The mental ones came back with the same laundry list of issues you normally have, C-PTSD, ADHD, just being the start. So, only a little more off the planet than your average Throne Agent.'

'That's cool, very cool. So, how are we going to do this?'

'Cool?'

'Yeah, a new word I'm wanting to use from now on instead of "good" it's "good", but I don't know also, cold? So it's cool making it "good" but in a uhh more stylish way, or uhh calm way, I suppose?'

Enandra sighed. 'I see. Your isolation has made you even more nutty, it seems.'

Attelus shrugged again.

'Attelus Xanthis Kaltos, before we start, I have to make this abundantly clear for you, things are not going back to normal; maybe it never will. This mission is going to be a test for you and your people of your true intentions.'

'Okay.'

'Okay? Just like that?'

'In all honesty, I thought that'd be the case.'

'Of course, you did.'

Attelus finally turned to the Inquisitor, and he couldn't help his eyes wander up her legs.

Enandra smiled knowingly at him and looked to the oculus. 'The world of Quoranda, one of the many that claims to be the birthplace of the great saint Drusus himself. It is said that in the early days when Angevin's Crusade came to the world that the people instantly recognised the great Drusus when he landed on the surface, and almost every single man, woman and child across the entire world fell to their knees. Apparently, they recognised him to be The Emperor incarnate, despite the fact they had stopped worshipping the Emperor since he left. The evil upper echelons of that society then committed mass suicide as they realised the falseness in their belief in whatever god or gods they worshipped. So, from then on, the world became a shrine wholly dedicated to Drusus like no other. Do you think that's true, Attelus? Or propaganda?'

'It doesn't matter what I think, mamzel. What do you think?' Attelus said smoothly.

Enandra laughed. 'I hoped you would be honest, Attelus, not try to kiss my arse like so many others here. Admittedly, I do have a nice arse, though. No, I asked you what you think. My opinion does not matter now, just yours.'

Attelus sighed. 'Hmm, okay. There's a lot of crazy shit I've seen and haven't seen that's happened and has yet to happen yet across this vast cosmos. But that pushes believability a bit too much for me, in all honesty. But, shit, you never frigging know. But it's more likely overblown, melodramatic Ecclesiarchy propaganda than anything else.'

'A...cool non-answer, Attelus. If you worded it...a lot better, you might make a good politician one day.'

'It's true, though, mamzel.'

'I'm sure it is,' said Enandra. 'All I think that even is if it is true, which I doubt it is, that it seems like a true case of overcompensation. Overcompensation that's likely hiding something; we cannot trust anything about the world when we land on it. And remember, we're dealing with the damned Ecclesiarchy here, so we may as well be leaping into a pit of vipers or getting involved with Malfian nobility.'

Attelus nodded, trust nothing, suspect everything, indeed.

'Hmm, so, I'm guessing that's why we're still on the system's periphery? We're doing this subtly?'

'Indeed,' said Enandra. 'Well, at first we are. As you may have already guessed, we have managed to hack into their public and a few of their private vox networks, and we've found a couple of interesting things. The first being that a mysterious sickness has engulfed much of the populous. Over 400,000 of the eight billion people are infected despite the best efforts of officials to contain it. Twenty thousand have died already.'

'Wait,' said Attelus. 'I thought Quoranda only had a population of seven billion.'

'It does, or it did, but they are still allowing pilgrims on the planet; they are just not letting them leave, to "prevent the disease from spreading off-world" until "the vaccine has been produced".'

Attelus couldn't help pursing his lips. 'I don't like that at all. I can understand keeping people from leaving but still letting them on the world doesn't make much sense, in all honesty.'

Enandra frowned. 'I don't like it, either, Attelus. They do have their reasons, of course.'

'Mind if I hazard a guess, mamzel? They don't want to prevent the faithful from their holy pilgrimage or some shit along those lines.'

'That's indeed what they claim,' said Enandra. 'Also, the fact that, ironically, they are having the biggest economic boom they've had in centuries.'

Clenching his teeth. 'That's not it; that can't be just it. There was no word of this to the Calixian Conclave...Or anything? What is this dodgy as frig, mamzel.'

Enandra shrugged. 'The Drusians believe the endurance of suffering is holy and blah blah blah. Maybe they think this sickness is a test from the Emperor? Fanatics are like that, completely illogical.'

'Indeed,' said Attelus. Too bad we live in an utterly illogical universe, he thought.

'You, know,' said Enandra. 'You should be another saint to the Drusians.'

'What? You're joking, right? Why me? I'm about as frigging holy or as saintly as a...toe...nail?'

'Because who else has endured more than you?'

Attelus flinched. 'Perhaps, maybe, but even so, I don't deserve to be anyone's damn saint, and I wouldn't ever want to be one either. Frig that.'

'You, see, the irony is that people who believe that are usually the ones who deserve such a position the most.'

Attelus sighed. 'If anyone deserves to be made a saint, it's the good Commissar; he was prepared to be crushed to death than kill innocent Imperial Citizens. He made the biggest "frig you" to the Chaos gods ever. Him and Dellenger.'

'Good point, but I am viewing it from the Drusian perspective. Anyway, I digress. But interestingly enough, according to the non-civilian vox communications, there are a tiny minority of cases are being sent to the Adepta Sororitas convent, which has been closed from the public.'

'That's...interesting, yes,' said Attelus as he stroked his chin. 'And let me guess, you want me and my people to infiltrate it? Do you think Soloston could be there?'

'Yes, on both accounts, well, half-right...'

'It won't be your people, Attelus, but my people,' said Arlathan as he stepped to lean on Enandra's command throne.

'Okay,' said Attelus. 'Cool

'Okay? Cool?' said Enandra, smiling and exchanging a glance with Arlathan. 'You're just glad you no longer have a leadership position anymore.'

'Yeah, because I suck at it.'

Enandra exhaled through her nose. 'You do not "suck at it", Attelus said. Your mission was a success and -'

'Yeah, only because of luck and a shit ton of extenuating circumstances,' said Attelus. 'Now, who's on the team?'

'Me,' said Arlathan, 'And the usual suspects Karmen, Darrance, Delathasi, Dellenger, Torris, Halsin and Tathe. Vex, too. I'm hoping your Space Marine friend will accompany us as well.'

'Tathe?' said Attelus. 'He's a war hero, well known in the Calixis Sector, he could be recognised. And what about Hayden?'

'Hayden is going to remain in confinement,' said Enandra. 'Which you yourself recommended, as I recall, his tests came back fine, by the way. And Tathe will just have to be careful. His scars are going to be covered in false flesh as well.'

'And what about...what about...'

'Your young and oh so pretty girlfriend, Adelana?' said Enandra. 'I received her request to transfer to work in our Librarium, which I obviously granted. That poor girl, that mission was too much for her and I cannot blame her. Needless to say, I will have a few of my soldiers keep an eye on her...just in case. I bet you're glad you managed to manipulate her to make her stay.'

'I didn't-'

'You did. Her reasoning sounded like your words, not hers. You want her to stay around in case you can finally get the damned courage to tell her how you feel. When, in reality, she hasn't escaped danger at all, any day now this ship could get boarded and stormed by Emperor only knows what and she'll be slaughtered...or worse alongside many others of the crew.'

'But-'

'You should have just let her go.'

'Where else could she have gone?' said Attelus.

'Scintilla? I could have given her a generous sum and-'

'And what would she do there? With no friends or family? No one to be there for her?'

'She would start again, and you underestimate her, I think, Attelus.'

'No, I empathise with her, mamzel.'

Enandra sighed. 'Yes, of course, you do.'

'So,' said Attelus. 'When do we make planetfall?'

'We?' said Arlathan. 'Who said you were coming with us?'

'Huh? What?' said Attelus.

'Well, you'll be coming down with us in the dropship,' said Arlathan. 'But you won't be taking part in the mission. We are investigating into the reason why the officials are letting pilgrims to land on the world but not letting them leave. You are investigating into that convent alone.'

Attelus couldn't help straighten. 'What? Why? I don't understand.'

'It's because Attelus,' said Enandra. 'If you are to be my master of assassins, you need to be able to work alone, as well as be a leader.'

'But... aren't you throwing me into the deep end a bit here?'

Anger flashed across Enandra's face, but she seemed to control it quickly. 'If...that was the case,' she said through clenched teeth, 'I would not be sending you into this...deep end, would I? Have some damned faith in yourself, please.'

'Kalakor could...wait? Me, your master of assassins?'

'By the Emperor, boy!' snapped Kollath so suddenly it made everyone flinch. 'Yes, how many times must she say it for it to penetrate your thick skull? And why is it so hard to believe, anyway? Aren't you already a master in your assassin cult?'

Attelus frowned, Kollath was an arse, but he hated to admit the sergeant had a point. He never really thought of himself as a "master assassin". The title was as meaningless to him as... Attelus didn't care about the stupid title despite all the shit he'd gone through to earn it. Attelus really couldn't think of a good simile right now, in all honesty. Was that even a simile?

'Fine, whatever,' sighed Attelus. 'But if I run into my father again and he impales me in the guts again. Or if I encounter, oh I don't know, another greater daemon of the Chaos gods and it slaughters me, it'll be your fault, mamzel Enandra.'

Enandra shrugged and tilted her head. 'Indeed, that is true, Attelus. But I am afraid that it is a burden I am willing to bear. Please accept my humble and sincere apologies. Please do!'

'And what will you be doing while we're down on the surface?' said Attelus, although he already knew the answer. He wanted to add while we're in danger and working our arses off but wisely refrained.

Enandra smiled. 'Oh, you know, sitting pretty on my oh so nice arse. I might get a few Sisters of Battle up here to pillow fight me in our underwear—just the usual. No, I will be in reserve; if something goes wrong, I'll make sure to make an explosive entrance. And I have to make sure the crew of the Xenocide knows who is their new, indisputable master.'

Attelus pursed his lips and shrugged; his anxiety had seemed to ebb away into a newfound confidence, he could do this! He will do this, frig it! 'Fair enough. Is that everything?'

'Yes, for now,' said Enandra. 'You will be making planetfall at midnight local time. I assume you have done your research on the planet?'

'Always, mamzel, knowledge is power, after all.'

'Good,' said Enandra. 'Dismissed.'

Attelus didn't move.

'Why are you still here? You are dismissed.'

Attelus hesitated; he wanted to ask whether she knew of the Emperor's Truth, which inspired her to join the Seculos Attendous. He couldn't find anything about it in the Librarium, but he doubted she would keep such information in even their private Librarium. But asking now, in front of everyone, was not the time, and he'd no frigging clue how he'd explain how he'd learned about it if she knew. If she didn't know, she'd more than appreciate her belief in a secular Imperium was far more in line with the Emperor's vision than his own religion if Kalakor was telling the truth, of course. But telling her might make her ask questions he didn't want to answer, not yet, anyway.

So he nodded, said his goodbyes, and left.


Despite the horrid heat that his body gloves fans barely kept at bay and made his hair cling to his face due to his sweat, Attelus didn't complain, not out loud, anyway. The frigging damned humidity, the pollen clogging his nose and making his eyes water, and the fact he still had many miles left to trek, in all honesty, Attelus couldn't have been happier. This was his element, traversing the bush. He'd grown up for much of his childhood in rural northern Velrosia, where he'd wander through the bush alone countless times. He'd never get lost, even when Attelus was very young and no matter how far Attelus left his home behind or how thick the bush would get or even if he was walking through an area he'd never explored before. Attelus didn't know how he managed it; he wasn't a psyker; he supposed it could've been a genetic, evolutionary thing, perhaps some instinctive trait to "sense" magnetic north? And it made him wonder if his shit head of a father or his long-dead, kind yet...flawed mother held the same trait. Attelus shook away any more thought of her.

His footfalls were silent as he manoeuvred through the dull brown and green bush with ease. Everything seemed strangely unhealthy, gnarled, bloated. He was no expert on the local flora and fauna, but to Attelus' eyes, everything was dead and rotten. If he placed a palm on a tree, his hand would slip, breaking off bark like it was rotting, but the roots were still strong and the branches still covered in leaves. It reminded him of the ugly, sick vegetation back on that backwater of backwater worlds Koliath, so much, so it unnerved him. Adelana, Vex, and he had travelled there in a desperate bid to investigate one of the remaining leads on Taryst's data bank as the Rogue Trader had invested a shit ton of throne gelts into a mining colony to set up on the world. Well, a "shit ton" of throne gelts to Attelus, anyway. To the insanely rich Taryst, it was mere chump change. Naturally, that lead led to a dead-end, but they got wrapped up in a terrible, frigging terrible multi-murder case that Attelus dearly wished he could forget. Adelana had refused even to mention it since they left Koliath, and he suspected that investigation was one of the many reasons she quit being a Throne Agent.

Attelus stopped as he came almost face-to-face with a wall of thick, trunk-like grey vines tangling and twisting together around a giant tree that towered above Attelus so tall, he couldn't help be reminded of Taryst's tower back on Omnartus, somewhat. The tree's trunk must've been a good fifteen metres in radius but the parasitic vines choking it made it seem much, much wider.

'That's what she said,' Attelus whispered and shrugged; he would've liked a view further abroad so he may...

One of the vines caught the corner of his eye, making him halt his thoughts. It was slightly different from the others, a little thicker than the rest and its bark subtly more defined. Attelus knew what it was the split-second he saw it; luckily, he'd done his research or-

As if sensing him noticing it, the vine seemed to shudder and start to slide from its hiding place in utter silence. Slipping through the maze of vines with incredible ease, and it kept moving and moving. The Bark Snake must've been metres upon metres long, one of its longest species. Then it emerged; its head was disproportionately wider than its body, at least by three metres. Its jaws split its skill down vertically, jaws filled with curved translucent teeth, each at least a dozen centimetres long. Its green, feline-like sickle-shaped eyes were set high on its head and forward-facing like all good predators. It hissed, and its head shook as the forked tongue writhed and whipped the air as it loomed over him like some titan monster of legend.

Unlike Attelus home-world or Koliath, there weren't any creatures there.

The Bark Snake drew back its head then struck.

Attelus lunged back, and its snapping jaws eclipsed only empty air.

For a split-second, it shuddered as if surprised he could dodge it, the Bark Snake had a strike rate of 1/10th of a second, so if it was surprised, Attelus couldn't blame it. They caused by and far the most deaths a year than any other creature on the planet despite nesting so far from human settlements.

Attelus drew his sword and activated it in a blaze of blue. The creature was scary as frig; objectively, it made his heart bash through him hard and fast, but Attelus had faced down a Greater Daemon of the Blood god not that long ago, so this was less than nothing.

The Bark Snake eyed him, hissing, then it lunged forwards, but it was a feint, yet it still made Attelus step to the left. He didn't want to kill it, but-

Then he saw the ugly bulbous, green and brown pustules bulging across its side.

The snake seemed to see his distraction and struck.

Clenching his teeth, Attelus barely managed to slide aside it, so barely its scaly skin brushed against him; if it weren't for his planted forward stance, he would've been knocked off his feet.

Instinct overrode his consciousness, and it made him bring his blade down into it just below the head. Attelus half expected it would somehow resist it, like the daemons back on Sarkeath and the monsters under Etuarq, but his sword parted its head from the rest of it like it was made from butter. The snake's corpse writhed and reeled, making Attelus leap out of range of its death throes.

It did this for a good few seconds, smashing and crashing through the underbrush. The cracking and chaos sent birds flying from the treetops and caused everything to become clouded in a thick vapour of pollen, and Attelus thought it was terrible back on Iocanthos. All the while, Attelus hadn't taken his attention away from the pustules as they exploded like pierced pimples, sending green and brown goop spraying onto the scenery. Attelus made sure he kept frigging far away from that crap.

A sudden stench, like hundreds of long rotting corpses, eclipsed the pollen dominating Attelus' nostrils, and he reeled, cried out and tried to cover his face. With desperate, gloved fingers, Attelus reached into the pouch on the back of his belt and pulled out his rebreather. It only took him a split second, but it felt like an age before he managed to slip it on his face, finally sparing him from that horrid stink.

The snake went still, yet its jaws still twitched, and its eyes shivered and blinked with its vertical, translucent eyelids. It was glaring at him in what seemed like utter hatred, beyond even Selva.

Instead of blood, more of that stinking sludge seeped from its stumps and flowed thick and fast across the dirt.

'I don't like this,' he said, and while grimacing along with the disgust welling within him, Attelus reached for his micro-bead. He wasn't supposed to communicate with the others unless in the most dire of circumstances, but this more than qualified.

More than frigging qualified.