Check the bottom of the chapter for notes.

The air was still sizzling from the recent atmospheric impact, so Kronos kept his distance, mostly to protect his own companion than himself. Said companion was currently catching her breath and, from the look on her features, having a miniature panic attack.

"CAN YOU AT LEAST FUCKING WARN ME FIRST?!" she was certainly not happy, but he could not heed her right now. The Drop Pod before him could prove to be his early salvation, as the Space Marines would undoubtedly have access to necessary equipment to get him to Terra.

He recognized the symbol on it's side as belonging to the esteemed Legion of the White Scars. In the early days of Horus' rebellion, there was much doubt on whether the Khan and his sons were on either side of the conflict, only for their loyalty to be reaffirmed through their service in the defense of humanity against the dark threat.

Yet now, 10,000 years had passed. He was still...processing that. But his trained mind had become used to shoving all of his doubts into it's murky depths for the duration of a mission. However, this doubt was directly tied to said mission.

100 centuries was an extremely long time, even for Space Marines. Even Custodians were not projected to be able to live that long outside of a Dreadnought. The Legion could've been fundamentally changed, torn down, or perhaps even disbanded and reformed in those years. Any of those things could be true, or all of them could be true at once. So Kronos tempered his expectations and even slightly shifted his pose to better prepare for any potential combat. He knew nothing, so he couldn't rule out anything.

The hatches around the Drop Pod opened with a metallic hiss, a light layer of dust being raised into the air with their impact. The Astartes inside disengaged from their safety locks. Ten Brothers of the Legion of Mundus Planus. All equipped with a pattern of Power Armor; familiar, yet different, as many things seemed to be now. Their Sergeant was the first to step off the Pod proper, a mighty Power Fist on one arm and a pattern of Bolt Pistol on his other. Yet, this undoubtedly hardened warrior of possibly centuries of service stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Kronos.

In fact, all of them were now staring directly at the Custodian. A thick air of tension was now present, at least for Kronos, though from just the body language he could read off of, they did not seem so much hostile as unnerved and confused. Mira was presently still sitting on his back, though thankfully she seemed to understand the situation and kept quiet.

Kronos stepped forth, meeting the Sergeant, at arm's distance. Both warriors stared at each-other in silence for a few moments, red optic lenses meeting with similar kin. Then, the Custodian moved to remove his helmet, in an attempt to defuse the awkwardness of the situation. The Sergeant, likewise, removed his, and he saw a grizzled face, scars etched into the skin, eyes sharp like an eagle's, and a short ebony mustache showing hints of greying gracing his lips. Kronos at last cleared his throat, as he finally found his words:

"Greetings, most honorable sons of the Warhawk. Your presence has graced us to the upmost degree."

"It is my honor to meet you, Custodes. I would never think I would live to see the Emperor's own caretakers in the flesh, let alone one so humble as to take his helm off in front of me," his voice was gruff, deep and bleeding with years of experienced. In other words, a perfect match for his face. Kronos also noted he was rusty in bastardized Gothic as well, with an incredibly thick accent, but that was to be expected. "But, if I may ask, why are you here? How are you here?"

Kronos mulled over the question for a few moments. Revealing the full extent of his Warp imprisonment to a force meant to assist him in getting to the Imperial Palace was unwise. He himself had lingering doubts over his potential tainting, doubts that would be acted upon by any reasonable member of the Astartes. He would have to subject himself to a full evaluation, but the time was not now. His mission was yet of the greatest importance.

"That is a question I cannot answer fully at this very moment, Sergeant...?"

"Ganbaatar, of the Wild Riders tribe. And you, Custodes?"

"Kronos Praesul, Guardsman of the 41st Shield-Company," he at last extended his hand towards the Sergeant. The man met him after a second, his grip firm. "It is an honor to meet you, Ganbaatar."

"Likewise, Kronos of Terra. But my curiosity remains piqued. Your presence here is confusing to say the absolute least."

"I realize that you have questions that are entirely founded in reason, White Scar. But I truly am incapable of informing you at this moment, aside from the fact that me getting to the Throneworld is of the upmost importance."

"The Throneworld?" the Sergeant seemed even more confused now. "Custodian, are you not intended to guard there for all time? What circumstances led to you being here against your will?"

Kronos was in a tight spot now. He did not expect the Sergeant to be a fool, but nonetheless this could mess up his plans in the long run if he revealed the full extent of his unfortunate escapade. However, he would likely not be satiated with attempts to brush off the questions, and the last thing Kronos needed was to seed distrust in such a critical ally for him. So he decided a half-truth would have to do:

"An unfortunate Warp travel accident. That is all that I can disclose at this current time. However, during said exposure I was contacted by the Emperor himself and given a mission. One which as of yet I am unsure, but I know I must arrive at Terra posthaste."

"The Emperor Himself?" Ganbaatar was astounded, but the Custodian saw as his face shifted tone to a more concerned one. "Custodian...you said a Warp incident, correct?"

"Yes."

"If that is the case, than your vision of our Emperor, authentic as He may have been, could easily have been just a cheap trick by a foul Neverborn to tempt you on a path of destruction."

Kronos put up his armored palm up to halt the Sergeant. "An admirable and well-founded concern, White Scar. But I have been in the Emperor's presence. I have basked in his light, and I have served under him directly. I know what his essence, a force so great it eclipses suns, feels like and no foul daemonic perversion could ever hope to replicate it. My encounter was with the Emperor in the flesh, and none others. And it is because of this that I must journey to the Throneworld as quickly as possible."

Ganbaatar seemed to muse over the request, before sighing.

"Very well. You shall have the full support of the Sons of Chogoris in your endeavor," he gestured for his Brothers, still seemingly reluctant to approach the Custodian. "However, our mission takes priority. We cannot leave the planet without completing it."

"The dismantling of the cultist takeover, I presume?"

"Yes. You know of it?"

"I have an informant."

"Yello-w."

It was the first time Mira had decided to pipe up since they had met their benefactors, having now climbed down from his shoulders. While the Sergeant and his Brothers had undoubtedly noticed his companion, Kronos was still given inquiring looks.

"A survivor I picked up during my initial surveying of the city closest to here. She has been making all on her lonesome for nearly 3 weeks."

"So," one of the other Astartes, this one clearly younger than Ganbaatar, piped up. "You trust her then?"

"Hey! It's not nice to talk about people as if they're not he-"

Kronos raised his hand, a motion that signaled her to keep silent. Mira was furious, but at the very least, she seemed to appreciate the seriousness of the situation, and so obliged. The other Astartes' expressions he could not read, but Ganbaatar seemed amused. With that out of the way, he supposed he had not thought of it. Yes, she was a strong, competent child that had done what most people likely could not, but did he truly trust in her?

Kronos was leaning on a "no". After all, he had only just met Mira. Their capabilities were impressive, their willpower commendable, especially for their age. But they were still volatile, more than a little aggressive and of course, merely another human. However, as he was thinking this, he was reminded of something Damocles had told him:

Trust in others as they trust in you. Kronos had already convinced the girl to trust in him, and despite all her shortcoming she had still followed his wishes perfectly well after a rational explanation. It would be betrayal to answer with anything less than what he did:

"Yes."

The Astartes nodded as he stepped back.

"Well, I suppose I should introduce you to my squad," Ganbaatar stepped forth and motioned his Brothers to remove their helms. Various complexions, lines and edges met his gaze, but they all had common features. A distinct cut of the face and eyes, facial hair of varying lengths and of course, their characteristics scars. Every Battle-Brother, from the youngest to the oldest had their face littered with wounds that even their superb healing factor could not mend. And each one of them wore them proudly, he was sure.

"Altan, Batu, and Chingis, of the Steppe Ravagers. Gan, Gansukh and Khenbish of the Mountain Wolves. Muunokhoi, Odgerel and Tarkhan of the Plains Dragons," As he mentioned each name, every Battle-Brother lowered their head in a sign of respect. Kronos appreciated the gesture, returning it in kind. Mira, on the other hand, did not.

"Uh, do all of your names need to be so hard to spell?" Kronos was about to lecture the child himself, however one of the Astartes, a grizzled warrior missing an eye and sporting a very long beard, whom he recognized as Batu, stepped forth:

"For you information, young one, each one of our names hold distinct meaning within our culture. You disrespect us by mocking them," his Brothers seemed in agreement with this, releasing grunts of approval.

"I wasn't disrespecting. You think I'm that petty. I'm not. I just like saying the truth, and for me, it is hard."

A brief bout of unease hung in the air. The Custodian knew nothing major would occur in the end, but he also knew some Astartes had...rather lowly opinions of their mortal peers. Perhaps Mira was crossing a line she really ought not to?

Or perhaps not, as most of the Marines had a subdued chuckle, clearly amused. Even Ganbaatar allowed himself a small one, though quickly signaled his squad to fall back into line, as he addressed Kronos again:

"I quite enjoy your companion, Custodian."

"Hey!" Said companion was clearly not content with not being addressed herself. "The name's Mira to you, got it?"

His smile yet remained as he answered. "Of course, forgive me."

Kronos allowed himself an internal sigh. Everything had gone better than expected, but he knew fully well that that luck would likely not last. He could also tell that, tough as he or the Space Marines may have been, they were in an extremely open area where they could easily be ambushed.

The Sergeant seemed to share his sentiment, as he told something to his Battle-Brothers in their guttural tongue, and they began moving, hauling their equipment. When Kronos gave Ganbaatar an inquisitive look, he simply replied with:

"Bad location. We must move, we have spent far too much time here."

Kronos nodded, and looked at Mira. She seemed to have guessed what was about to happen next, and was clearly not amused as he hoisted her back up to his powerpack. Still, no verbal complaints were filed, as he and the Astartes began running towards their end goal.

Three hours had passed.

The capital was now in view, a sprawling city modeled with beautiful, towering spires, far removed from the relic urban area he had observed prior. However, it's beauty only served to enhance it's corrupted elements, as the buildings were starting to suffer from lack of maintenance, with their streets and walls covered in the occasional stain of blood.

They were in cover now, behind a large derelict ship, no doubt one crashed hundreds if not thousands of years ago, and likely left remaining due to it's sheer size and difficulty to break down. But he knew they were still vulnerable here, perhaps even more so than they had been in the unforgiving wastes. The Astartes themselves knew of this, and were using the massive bulk of the crashed craft as merely a short respite to prepare their plans and check their equipment once more.

He had learned from the Sergeant that they were the 6th Squad of the 4th Brotherhood of what was designated now as the mere, lone Chapter of White Scars, due to an event called the Second Founding, initiated immediately after Horus' rebellion by the Primarch Roboute Guilliman. He had narrowly avoided appearing too suspicious in asking for this, but nonetheless, it was merely another revelation added to the pile that was growing greater by the day merely to torment him.

But that was still not important now. What was important was their mission: they and three other squads would engage in hit-and-run attacks on orbital gun batteries stationed over the citadels the Chaos cult yet held. They were the reason for Drop Pods being inserted instead of a full blown assault, as no air or spacecraft could make it through the planet's respectable amounts of Defense Lasers and Void Shields.

As for how the cultists had managed to amass the entire planet's defensive grid and kept it running, or indeed, how they managed to gain control of the planet in the first place was still a mystery. Apparently the Planetary Governor himself had not fallen to the temptations of the Ruinous Powers, but much of the higher echelons of his culture had done so instead, ripping the world asunder in a mass suicide ritual that led to...something happening. All information the White Scars, or indeed any Imperial force, had on the Incident as it kept being called, was that an enormous Warp rift had appeared over the planet for a brief amount of time, only to disappear again. Whatever the cultists were attempting to bring over had not worked, but it would be foolish to assume they would not try again.

Kronos roused himself out of his thoughts once more as he surveyed the little camping area they were inhabiting. Each Battle-Brother was doing something, whether planning their assault by coordinating with the other squads via a special Vox-caster, tending to their equipment or, in the case of the lone Batu, checking their charge for any harm.

"You know, I wouldn't have made it this far without knowing how to keep myself from losing an arm. I'm fine."

Batu simply continued in his task of checking the girl's comparatively frail limbs. "Your perseverance is impressive, yes. But there is nothing wrong with a routine medical examination. Now please, remain still."

Mira huffed in annoyance, but she nonetheless obliged, letting Batu conclude his work and receiving a nod in response. She seemed content with sitting cross-legged. biting down on an emergency ration she had produced from her backpack, but was instead called to the central command "post" by Tarkhan, whom Kronos guessed was the most senior operative aside from the Sergeant himself. Before the Custodian could move to question this, the Marine closest to him, leaning cross-armed on part of the hull providing their current cover, decided to pipe up:

"You can relax. She is a native, and a survivor on top of that. She could have valuable info. That is why they're questioning her."

"Hmm," Kronos had not thought of that. "I suppose it does make sense. Gan, I presume?"

The Astartes nodded. "You have a connection with the runt, do you not?"

"I would not call it that. It is a mutually beneficial relationship. Nothing more."

"Hmm, very well. I simply notice that you appear more interested in her well-being that what would be considered normal. But then again, I am not the best judge of social interaction."

Kronos decided not to respond to that. He merely waited in silence for the rest of his entourage to finish their work, as he had already concluded any maintenance to his equipment that was needed. He noticed that Gan, too, had not much to say or do.

"I see you do not have much desire for chatter either."

"As I said, I am not particularly socially inclined. They are my Battle-Brothers, and I would fight with them to the ends of the universe. But that is it. Silent camaraderie is all I require."

Kronos nodded. Gan was very like him, in many regards. However, there was one other particular strange feature other than his isolation: his choice of weapon.

"A Lascannon?" Kronos gave him a perplexed look. "If I am not mistaken, such a weapon is uncommon for a Tactical Marine, correct?"

"A leftover from my Devastator days," the Marine's hard-edged face scrunched into a thoughtful expression. "I suppose I never quite grew past heavy fire support."

Kronos nodded once more, deciding to leave the Marine in his quiet, instead opting to head over to where the Ganbaatar and Tarkhan were talking to Mira. Upon his approach, Ganbaatar already seemed about done with her.

"Thank you for your cooperation, child."

"Yeah, sure," she noticed the Custodian drawing close, and also saw what his stern visage was telling her. In response she did stuck out her tongue, but likely because she was not intending on staying there anyway, as she did move. Kronos sighed, but decided to not pursue any further action, facing the Sergeant and what he could safely assume to be his second-in-command.

"I presume that is part of your professional working relationship, then?" Ganbaatar had a good-natured smile on his face, but it quickly straightened once more when he realized Kronos was not there to discuss anything outside the mission.

"Will we be moving out soon?"

Ganbaatar nodded. "The assault plan is entering it's final phases. The three other squads deployed here are nearly all ready. We are simply waiting for the appropriate equipment to drop down from orbit."

"Equipment? You already have your weapons and armor, do you not?"

"That is but half of our implement Custodian," the Sergeant seemed almost...insulted? "You know why we were specifically called here, and our preferred method of warfare."

It took Kronos a second to understand what the Marine was implying. "Ah, of course. I had forgotten. Excuse my ignorance. But, when will your rides arrive?"

"In a short while. The 4th Squad has yet to reach it's position. But the second all four Sergeants give the confirmation, specialized Drop Pods will deliver them to our general location."

Kronos did not particularly like the sound of "general location", but he nonetheless said nothing to it, instead opting to ask something else:

"Is there any way I can be of use?"

"Not at this current moment Custodian. But your skills shall be worth a hundred Battle-Brothers once we enter combat."

Kronos nodded, retreating from the command "post". Ganbaatar and Tarkhan seemed to be in control of the situation, and he deemed further conversation unnecessary. However, he still possessed nothing to do, so he simply settled for staying close by his charge.

Is that what she is now? MY charge? Kronos shook his head. Irrelevant thoughts only detracted from more important tasks. But...he did not have a more important task to attend to. And he was the only authority who actively looked after the girl. The White Scars seemed sympathetic to her, but he had no doubts they would throw her life away if the situation was dire enough in a heartbeat. He could not truly blame them for such a thing, but the thought still caused a particular case of wretch to manifest in his mind.

"Hey," he had somehow forgotten all about Mira while thinking of her. He did not know if that was impressive or concerning. "Why do you let those guys give you orders anyway? Don't you outrank them?"

"I have not once received any mandatory requests from them, no. This is simply their operation, and I only wish to interfere as far as my own mission is concerned," Kronos turned his head to look directly at her now, noticing she was sitting cross-legged once more, and that she had taken her shoes off. "However, yes, I technically am of a superior rank to them."

"Hmm," she seemed content after that. It looked as if there was to be a return to the silence of the past, broken only by the animate chatter of the Chogorians preparing for battle, which Kronos was perfectly happy with. Though Mira apparently could not sit idle for so long. "This changes nothing, right?"

"Elaborate."

"Our deal, it's still intact, right?" Kronos was surprised to hear a hint of worry in her voice.

"Of course. I said it once, Mira. I would never turn my back on a debt, especially one of honor."

"Good."

Kronos considered leaving the conversation rest, but either out of a boredom or another feeling he could not quite place, he decided to actually actively rouse the child into speaking with him not out of necessity as he had before, but simply for the sake of it.

"Whenever I do grant my favor, and I will, what will you do with it?"

Mira seemed to be caught in surprise. "Hadn't thought about that. And I still have to decide," she put on a cheeky smile. "Don't worry, Banana Man, I won't ask anything too outrageous...maybe."

Kronos had to suppress himself from sighing again. But, there was one curiosity that was still gnawing at him:

"Mira, did you have any family? Parents, siblings?"

He could immediately see that he had struck a nerve. Mira's face was wiped of all emotion almost immediately, but he could see that her hands were clenched.

"I do. I don't know where they are," a shadow had practically materialized over her eyes. "But I am going to find them. That's all I'm gonna say. Alright?"

"I see," Kronos opted to not press her further, just as requested. He could see clearly that that "alright" was rhetorical.

"Excuse me for interrupting."

Kronos turned to greet a young face, with a dark brown, short mohawk and golden earrings. A slightly familiar sight.

"Gan," he bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement.

The Marine returned the gesture. "I merely have a question for...Mira, if I remember correctly?"

The girl nodded. "Yeah, what is it?"

"You seem to be entirely comfortable around branches of Imperial military muscle that simply...are not common," Mira opted to meet the Marine's gaze, steely as it was, with her own. "Case in point, me and my brethren. We are usually talked of in awe-draped wonder even among other forces that serve with us. Not that I appreciate the attention, but you seem to not be among said majority of people. Care to explain why that is?"

"That's because I am. Our world used to be a recruitment world for Space Marines. They were just wiped out as part of...something's attack," the gap left in her knowledge was easily filled by both the Astartes and the Custodian's minds, especially considering the most prominent interstellar feature of the Segmentum Obscurus. "I never got to see them myself, but I always grew up with tales of people who had. That's why the whole mystic shit is lost on me."

Gan nodded as he backed off. But Kronos noticed that he curiously did not return to his position, instead preferring to remain where he was.

It seemed as if the unlikely trio were to fall back into the silence they each seemed to prefer, though that did not happen. The Sergeant barked what could only be described as a very order-esque sound to Gan, who responded in turn, no doubt the two of them communicating in their native language as Gan put his helmet back on. Kronos did likewise, while Mira put her boots back on, holstering her gun.

The two did not even have a chance to inquire about the sudden mobilization before the reason made itself apparent: Drop Pods. More of them.

However, this time, Kronos could tell they were different. Modified, and almost certainly not carrying any other Astartes. They impacted several kilometers in front of them, as the Astartes began moving towards their prizes, Kronos not far behind, with Mira in tow. In a few minutes, they had arrived at their destination, the contents of the Drop Pods already made bare to them.

"Our spearhead has arrived," Ganbaatar along with his brothers seemed glad to at least be atop their rides. He noticed Gan himself took a seat on the Squad's sole Attack Bike's sidecar, manning it's Heavy Bolter, with Tarkhan as his rider. "Oh, and Custodian? I managed to call in an extra favor."

Kronos heard the Sergeant, though he was also busy staring at his own ride. It was a far cry from a Gyrofalcon Jetbike, but it was certainly still a beautiful piece of Imperial technology. He reached for the access panel that turned on the engine, surprised that the design had not changed much in 10,000 years. As the engine turned on, he lightly turned the throttle, hearing it respond with a pleasant roar. He turned back to see Mira had already embarked on the back.

"You better know what you're doing Banana Man."

Kronos nodded as he switched the gear. He looked at the Sergeant, as he was exchanging hand signals with his comrades. Each Astartes was ready to go, and Kronos could feel the adrenaline rushing into the air as the Sergeant at last gave a final affirmation, with the entire Squad bursting into a charge straight towards the city, their advance marked by the thunderous scream of their engines.

Author's notes: So, I notice that one of my fav Chapters don't get much love at all, and low and behold, I'm giving them some of their honor back. Seriously, what's not to love about Space Mongols?

Sort of a filler chapter (not that kind) this time, so sorry 'bout that, but it's mostly to get the Khan's bois properly introduced. But for all of you interested, yes, I will attempt to sneak some action into the next chapter. Also, keep an eye out for a lil something unrelated to this fic being posted very soon (hopefully tomorrow). I think anybody that enjoys this will enjoy it as well.

As always, I am not a Wahammer expert, so if I screw anything up, pls do not burn me as a heretic.

As a side note, thank you for the increase in the amount of reviews. I HIGHLY appreciate anything you have to say, especially if it is critical since it helps me improve, so feel free to keep doing that if you can.

Otherwise, this is your usual it's-getting-hard-to-come-up-with-a-joke-for-this-every-time man signing off for now.