Ranger Corvette, Ultramar Sub-Sector

Cameleoline-clad beings gathered around tables laden with equipment in the corvette's tiny, ventral hangar bay. Long Rifles, lasblasters, sidearms, ammunition, armour plating, imaging, eye and ear protection covered the surfaces, leaving no inch bare.

By herself at the corner of a table, Izuru slid reinforced Wraithbone plates inside her chest rig and sealed the compartments. Power cells filled the double layer of pouches attached to the rig. A short blade sat inside a sheathe on the left breast. Flares and grenades bulged in pouches.

"One-hundred and seventy-two cycles out from Cadia, we now approach our destination," Uncle Sol said to Izuru. Both stood on opposite sides of a planet, blue and green, in an empty briefing chamber. The sphere rose from the circular projector set in a depression in the deck and began to rotate. A ram-headed human cruiser led the survivors of Cadia down upon warfleets clashing in the planet's orbit. Displayed boldly on the cruiser's flank was a black cross with eight points on a white shield. In its wake sailed only human vessels of the Imperial Navy, the Adeptus Astartes, and the giant Ark Mechanicus. The solitary Ranger corvette tailed the human fleet at a distance.

"Macragge, the capital of the Realm of Ultramar, and markedly similar in climate, not to mention gravity, to Cadia, so you should not feel too uncomfortable a sensation when you make planetfall. Any questions you may have..."

"We crossed the entire galaxy."

"Much, I'm afraid, the Prophet keeps to her chest, and all she knows is what she is told by the old Cog-Head on the Ark Mechanicus."

"Why? Why commit to such an undertaking?"

"I have not the first idea, niece-of-mine. For all I know, the Gods willed our safe passage to Ultramar."

"What became of the fleet? We sail alone…"

"The Ynnari mission has concluded. Ours is just beginning. We must thank the Prophet for providing us with one."

Macragge's rotation increased and a red reticle fell in the centre of an ocean on the far side of the planet. "With lowered arms and open minds, we approach the third—second most heavily defended planet in the Imperium of Man."

"And how does the Prophet intend to make ours and the human cause a single entity?"

"No business of ours. Observe this oceanic platform. Remote, accessible only via sea and air."

Five towers, tipped with antennae, rose two-hundred feet from the swell. Each tower supported four wide landing pads. Mag-rails, without protection from the elements, linked the five platforms with the main facility, squatting on eight supports, each as wide as one of the five towers. Crane arms extended over the ocean and surface-to-air missile installations dotted the upper sections.

"Does the human leadership make hideout there?"

"While the Prophet and her delegation make planetfall at Macragge's capital—"

"Aboard a human ship?"

"Better to keep our arrival discreet. Were the enemy telegraphed to Ynnari-human collaboration, they would undoubtedly summon reinforcements to Macragge. Anyway, we stray from topic. While the human cruiser breaches the blockade, our strike team slips through in Shenae SPIEs, makes insertion upon the platform, secures it, then preps for the second phase."

"Second phase?"

"Uhh…" Uncle Sol scratched the scar behind his ear. "I have had teams rehearse these manoeuvres for weeks. Insert, sweep, secure, extract. Now, I have faith in you, niece-of-mine, but I do not permit you full participation in the operation. Insert, assist in securing the platform, then stand down."

"Uncle, you—"

"DO NOT!" Uncle Sol's hand shot out. "Compromise this any further. You will accept your part in this operation with a smile and a level head."

Smile and a level head. Izuru folded down her lasblaster's sights and fitted a close-range weapon sight to the rail of her lasblaster and fixed a magnifier behind. Level head? He does not trust me. A torch and laser device bulked-up the lasblaster's fore-end.

"What happens in the second phase, Uncle?" Izuru paced around the planet.

"Concern yourself not with the matter."

"Oh, so next you may tell me that I am not allowed use of my weapon."

"Unless your hand is forced, refrain from the discharge of weapons. Each brother and sister are bound to that rule, not only you."

"So, while the Prophet opens talks, we assault their hideout, take hostages and…?"

"This is insurance if the talks deteriorate in the event of sudden human xenophobia. If all goes to plan, we maintain that our presence is solely for the humans' protection. Are you comfortable with taking hostages should negotiations break down?"

"Of course." Izuru fiddled with her bun.

"I give you the field. This is what you wanted, is it not?"

"Yes…"

"And if the enemy makes a move for the platform, or even has troops on the ground there, you will have your action."

"I shall."

"Izuru?" Uncle Sol came around to Izuru's shoulder.

"Uncle."

"Could you tell a non-combatant from an enemy in a mere moment? I know it has been a while since you laid eyes on a human, but I warn you to pay heed to caution down there. If no enemy can be found, do not seek one out. Restraint is paramount."

Black cream darkened Izuru's face. Restraint. Does he believe my trigger-finger twitches too readily?

"Human measurements and the human tongue shall be observed throughout the operation," Uncle Sol said to Izuru. She perched on a table in a sterile facility with a bared shoulder. "It will allow you chance to exercise your Gothic, should you need to. You do recall the tongue of the barbarian, don't you?"

Izuru shut her eyes and turned her head away from the needle on the end of the articulated arm. "Mmph. I meant it you know. They came from their mothers' wombs, as we did. Decry them not for their ignorance and barbaric ways. You are just as ignorant of them as they are of you."

Uncle Sol rolled up his sleeve, exposing a circular implant inside his arm. Blue light formed two sets of numerals. "We lose thirteen hours on transition to MNT."

"MNT?" Izuru laced her tunic and picked up her rolled Cameleoline.

"Best discuss mission details in private."

Her face blackened, Izuru loaded her sidearm and placed it in the holster on her right hip. After sighting the lasblaster, Izuru slotted a power cell and sealed the breech. A red light showed on the lasblaster's body. Safety on.

"Macragge Naxa Time." Uncle Sol led Izuru through a narrow portal to the corvette's hangar. "The platform stands in the Naxa Ocean, midway between the continent of Volos and Pereis, and on the opposite side of the planet to Magna Macragge Civitas."

"Where our dear friend the Prophet has her appointment?"

"Indeed."

"First Captain on deck!" A Ranger bearing scars of equal prominence to Uncle Sol stood up straight and swivelled to face Uncle Sol. A short top-knot stood up straight on his shaven crown.

"As you were. Good day, Captain. I have the honour of introducing Ranger Izuru Numerial. She will be accompanying your team in place of Ranger T'banna."

"Olitha T'banna was well-liked, Ranger." The Captain tugged on gloves and flexed his fingers without looking over at Izuru. "I would have preferred to keep her place open. We respect our departed."

"One operation, Lyzaro. Ranger Numerial will be answering directly to you. Responsibility rests on my shoulders."

"Gratitude for reassurance." Lyzaro popped the wide breech of a scattershot and loaded a green breaching cartridge.

"Codewords?"

"Operation commence…" Lyzaro locked the breech shut. "Is Wisdom Shell. Operation terminate is Bale Claw. Phase One complete is Luminous, leading on to Phase Two—"

"Ranger Numerial's participation ends with the conclusion of Phase One, Lyzaro. That is all she need know."

"An observer? Huh. Do try and keep that forefinger away from the firing stud, Ranger." Lyzaro picked up an empty chest rig and thrust it at Izuru, all without looking her in the eye. "Do watch your muzzle too."

"Gratitude, Captain."

"Concluded. Attend to your equipment, Ranger," said Uncle Sol. "Then await your team leader's command."

"First Captain. I am at your service, Captain Lyzaro." Wraithbone plates slapped against the rig Izuru held.

"Chest, head, ears, and imaging are on this table, arms and ammunition are on the table opposite. Black your face too."

"Can we count on aerial support for this exercise?"

"No drone or gunship support. Blind until our boots touch the deck." Lyzaro moved away from Izuru. A few quick glances flittered her way but no eyes lingered. All looked away before Izuru could make eye contact. Who are these warriors? Beings I once called kin.

Her lasblaster balanced in her lap, Izuru sat on the deck with her back to one three transparent pods bulging from a Shenae. Two red lines ran down her black cheeks and ended in arrowheads. A blue scarf was tied around her neck, the ends of which were tucked inside her chest rig. I pray your spirit forgive me for condemning you to the cold earth, sister-of-mine. Izuru rubbed the edges between her fingers and caressed her cheek with the soft material. Are you home at Ulthwé? One of billions adrift in the Infinity Circuit?

"…Do you comprehend?" A Ranger boot thrust at Izuru's thigh. "I said, we make passage in short stead. Find your seat!"

Izuru dragged her rig over, pulled it over her head, and fastened the clasps. "My transport?"

"Second from the left." The Ranger leaned against a sealed pod and tapped his foot. "Strumpet."

Rangers climbed inside the open pods on both flanks of the Shenae, little more than steps. These steps then retracted and the pods closed.

"Ranger!" Captain Lyzaro beckoned with a finger from the transport sitting on the pad furthest to the left. "You are the last!" Izuru jogged over and ducked around the Shenae's tail. "No! No, you take the pod behind, Ranger. Brenya, relinquish your seat and change with Zhai."

"Captain." A Ranger bearing a black, sound-dampened lasblaster stepped down from her pod. "Mind your muzzle, Ranger. I will be at your shoulder, watching." Brenya adjusted a mouthguard and climbed in to the rearmost pod.

Izuru adjusted the harness clipped to her lasblaster and manoeuvred her backside on to the step. The bulbous compartment sealed around her and air hissed inside. One Shenae held six Rangers, and ten stood in a row.

"Annhirath, recite," Captain Lyzaro's voice buzzed in Izuru's earpiece.

"Annhirath Five stands ready."

"Annhirath Four, ready."

"Annhirath Three, awaiting yours."

"Annhirath Two, ready."

"Annhirath One, solid," Izuru said.

"Annhirath Leader, on. Stand ready, Spectres."

Spectres? Izuru worked her earpiece tighter and leaned back until her head connected with the Shenae's flank. Exhaling slowly, Izuru closed her eyes. Rough, human skin caressed hers. A thumb ran down the scar cutting across Izuru's palm.

"Do you remember that?"

"I have nothing to say to you." Izuru broke away from the human's touch. "Gods damn your frail soul. I do not know you."

Pale blue eyes flashed. "Partecion. Partec—"

"—dom Shell. Wisdom Shell."

"Uh?" Izuru's hands flew to her lasblaster. Her thumb pressed the safety catch. The Shenae she rode spun ninety degrees and faced the tail of the Shenae in front. The overhead lighting dimmed and air spurted from the hangar's loosening seals.

Gods, not now. Izuru firing hand left the warm grip and rubbed at a weeping eye. I never knew you. I never knew you!

"Say again, Annhirath One?"

"N—Nothing. Disregard." Izuru's palm slapped her mouth and held it shut. What else did I say aloud?

A magnetic rail clamped on the Shenae's dorsal hull and lifted it from the pad. Hooked landing claws folded inside the body. The hangar doors parted beneath the suspended Shenae. Izuru clenched her jaw and clutched her lasblaster. Her stomach leaped in to her throat. Above her, the corvette shrunk to a speck. Not a single trace of pink stained Macragge's orbit. Stars twinkled and the sun blazed behind the Shenae. Shutters dimmed the light warming Izuru's pod. Flashes lit up the staggered lines of blocky ships trading fire at extreme range with the enemy. Scoops were fitted to the bows and entire cathedrals populated the aft. Aquilae glinted in the sunlight.

Far away from the battle, a tiny arrowhead cut through the vacuum towards the dark side of Macragge. "Annhirath, chrono synch."

Thirteen hours, was it? Izuru lifted a human chrono attached to a loop on her vest and dialled the hour numerals back.

"On the mark. Three, two, one, mark."

Izuru clicked her chrono. The pale green face read 04:00:11.

"Remember, Gothic only."

Fire engulfed the shell of Izuru's pod. She winced and held her hood over her eyes. The step beneath her buzzed. Her toes and the tips of her ears tingled. Macragge's curvature tilted beneath the Shenae. Gradually, the light baking the pod faded. Deep grey clouds surrounded the Shenae. Izuru's breath fogged the pod's interior. She tugged her scarf over her chin and mouth and dragged her sleeve across the pod. Turbulence shook the Shenae. Izuru's backside left the step and her head hit the pod. "Umph. Bollocks."

"Ha! Our tagalong, taking the Gothic to heart there."

"Comms are for mission-relevant information only. Observe voice discipline, Ranger."

Izuru's cheeks smarted. Gods strike me down. How does one recall the savage tongue so readily?

"Forty-thousand."

The Shenae passed a gash in the clouds. A jagged fork flashed in the far distance. A rumbling reached Izuru's ears, audible even above the whine of the engine. The numerals on Izuru's chrono flicked around to 05:00. After another fifteen minutes descending, the Shenae broke free of the overhanging cloud. Raindrops spattered Izuru's pod and wind buffeted the craft. Izuru peered between her feet at the Naxa Sea hundreds of feet below. The churning waves rushed up to the Shenae's underbelly. Salt spray stained the body and clung to the pod.

"Fifty feet."

Izuru's pod juddered and split open. The halves retracted, leaving her exposed to the howling wind. Behind her, Brenya hooked her foot around the bar and cradled her lasblaster to her chest. Lyzaro, his boot braced against the hull, glanced at Izuru and raised three fingers. The wind tore his words away and flung them over the sea. Izuru clamped her arm around her lasblaster and held her hood down with her other hand. Three minutes.

Black Templar Thunderhawk, Magna Macragge Civitas, Continent of Ahzov

A bulging harness criss-crossed Yvraine's chest and trapped her shoulders against the uneven bulkhead. Jostled around in her seat, Yvraine slipped her fingers beneath the straps and pushed them away from her shoulders.

If you would permit me…? The Visarch's gloved hand hovered over a latch on the harness.

Thank you, Laari. Yvraine set her hands in her lap and waited for the Visarch to loosen the harness. The Visarch wore a red surcoat in the place of his armour. The only ornament he chose was a golden collar at his throat in the shape of a star. A golden mask covered his face and a hood hid his hair.

Such a crude thing.

Mmm. Time?

18:15 Magna Macragge Civitas Time.

Yvraine twisted the topmost button on her surcoat. Neither she nor the Visarch wore any outward protection. Both of their identical surcoats had Wraithbone plates sewn inside and each of the sashes tied around their waists concealed foldout blades coated in poison. A brace inside Yvraine's right sleeve held a holdout lasblaster attached to a drawer slide.

Thirteen hours difference places the Rangers' landing at zero-five eighteen?

Give or take five to ten minutes for variable weather conditions. Meteorological survey showed a storm brewing in the vicinity of the platform which may cause delays. For all the misery flying through a storm entails, the Rangers will remain undetected.

Pah! They are Rangers. Wetwork is their forte. Being outcasts, they are good, deniable assets also. Yvraine played with the end of her fan, protruding from the simple knot holding her hair up. No headdress sat on her crown. No jewellery glittered at her throat, her ears, or her fingers. No entourage followed in her footsteps. She sat alone inside the Thunderhawk with the Visarch, watched by the giants with the black armour, the crosses on their shoulder pauldrons, and the fingers sitting just outside their bolters' trigger-guards.

Call it folly.

Well, I call it selflessness, Yvraine. And the fact you are appearing humble before the human will garner respect. No frilled fanciness. We are here for the mission only.

But what mission? The Archmagos refused to say. Yvraine's hand patted her hip where Kha-vir should have been. Naked am I. Borne in to the enemy's camp on a machine's promise—a machine!

Ha! You would not even have to lift a finger to nullify every human in the room. No blade, bullet, projectile, or psyker can touch you.

So maintains the Emissary of the God of the Dead. It will be a mortal being approaching the humans down there.

With open arms and a mind free of prejudice.

Eurgh, do not remind me of that Ranger, Laari. As a diplomat, I will make my bed with the enemy—but not in the literal sense!

Beg pardon, Lady Prophet. Fault obviously was mine after steering to such sensitive subject. The Visarch folded his arms and looked away from Yvraine. If it heartens you, the Ranger will be landing on the oceanic platform, under the eye of the First Captain; her uncle.

Her uncle! Gods, Laari, why keep from informing me? Had I known I would have vetoed the Ranger's participation at once. Cold-hearted, psychotic, human-mattress. Yvraine touched her nose. I regret not letting you cut her down after that blow.

More important matters crowd our doorstep than one Ranger of questionable mental stability.

Questionable mental stability! The whore deserves everything she gets.

Perhaps decision should fall to the First Captain. He is the highest-ranking Ranger present in the fleet after all. Why concern ourselves with a little being of no consequence? This is the mission. Us. Here.

When I believe one single being is of no consequence, that is the day my assassin meets their mark.

Yvraine?

Laari.

I look forward to you impressing the humans when we land.

Hmph.

Your knee is trembling.

Yvraine clamped her fingers around her leg. This Magna Macragge Civitas, is Civitas pronounced soft or hard?

Civitas is High Gothic. They use hard Cs so I should imagine it is Kivitas.

Magna Macragge Kivitas then. I would not wish to make a fool of myself before the human authority. Yvraine placed her hand on her chest. She could feel her heart beating through the armour plates. Come then. Let us see this through.

Light seeped through the crack between the ramp and the bulkhead. The Marines rose in unison and stamped past Yvraine and the Visarch. Yvraine undid her harness and made to stand. Hold fire for a moment. The Visarch touched Yvraine's shoulder. Let not set our hosts' teeth on edge any further.

Whom we have yet to meet.

The Marines thudded down the lowered ramp on to a paved landing zone and formed a corridor facing inwards. The waning sun shone through smoke rising from layered arches, pillars, and domed rooftops on the far side of the landing ground several kilometres distant; all of it hidden behind a tall boundary wall tipped with spikes and wire. Broken peaks poked out of the clouds. Aside from the Marines, no other being awaited Yvraine and the Visarch.

Is this it? Yvraine came to the end of the Marine ranks. Must they insult me so?

I might be more concerned as to the whereabouts of the enemy. With the situation balancing on knife-edge in orbit, it may be prudent to inquire after the situation on the ground.

I care not for the plight of the Ultramar. I do not even know why we are here. A whump reached Yvraine's ears. Rapid thuds and pops carried over the open ground. Thin, white streaks flew in to the sky in the city.

Do you hear that? That is why we are here. And don't you dare say this trip was folly.

What! Laari, I am shocked you would put forth such opinion so readily. We are here for us! For the Ynnari and for Ynnead.

Cast eyes to the west, Yvraine.

Stray not from topic, damn you!

Our reception approaches. Yvraine followed the Visarch's outstretched arm. A four-wheeled vehicle sped over a landing strip and bounced across grass towards the Thunderhawk. Mud flew from beneath its wheels. An unmanned lascannon behind the driver's compartment bounced on its mount.

It cannot be for us. It is only one human.

The vehicle's fat tyres found the paved landing ground and it drove in a wide circle around the Thunderhawk's tail and pulled up beside Yvraine and the Visarch. Mud spattered the blue paint on its flanks and dents covered its bonnet. The sole occupant, a human in a blue field cap and anti-glare glasses, leaned over the passenger seat. "Are you with the AdMech party?"

"Where is our reception, human?"

"Good, I'm talking to the right people. Climb in the back. Keep your hands off the gun."

"I am the Prophet—" The Visarch's hand steadied Yvraine from rushing the human.

He is merely a servant. Shall we board?

What of the parades? The honour guards? Yvraine climbed on to the vehicle's gun platform and squatted behind the cab. Is this how they treat guests?

Were we not on a secret mission, I dare say some more splendour would have been observed. The Visarch squatted opposite Yvraine and spread his arms over the vehicle's frame. The smooth surface beneath the wheels became rutted and uneven, bumping the passengers and shaking spent cartridge casings around. Dark stains shone on the peeling paintwork and little grey scraps stuck to the lascannon's body and the floor.

Oh, Gods. Yvraine swiped the flecks from her sleeve and shoulder and dragged her heel across the floor. A thin, papery film peeled away from her foot. Liquid blood. Disgusting. Yvraine twisted her neck and peeped through a gap at the mud-flecked windshield. The stench of Promethium. Never a more barbarous concoction.

White noise burst from a vox fitted in front of the vehicle's manual shift. The human turned a dial and pressed a button beneath it. "…just been reinforced from the air by Tango Alpha platoon. I count four-zero drop pods landing in grid 371-823. Our boys are holding fast. Over."

"Roger, Whippet. Keep sending those reports every fifteen minutes and do not engage the enemy unless compromised. Over."

"Roger, Centurion. Out."

The human adjusted the dial. The vox crackled then another voice spoke. "…this is Ferrous. I have eyes on two-zero-zero enemy APCs, mobile one-three-twos, and softskins rolling east through Quillan Reserve. Requesting fast-air. Over."

"Ferrous, this is Principe. All available air assets are engaged elsewhere. Negative on that request. Send their grid. Over."

"Principe, Ferrous. Two-zero-zero enemy APCs, mobile one-three-twos, and softskins rolling east through Quillan Reserve, grid Sierra Uniform 413-848. Enemy does not have eyes on us at this time. Over."

"Roger, Ferrous, grid noted. Remain incognito and keep reporting their strength and disposition. Copy?"

"Principe, Ferrous copies all. Out."

The human muttered a single-syllable and steered the vehicle around the broken, flame-gutted hull of a Thunderhawk lying on its side next to a runway, the first in a long line of wrecked Astartes ships shoved on to the grass and left there.

"AdMech." The Visarch let go of the frame and indicated a long ship the colour of rust squatting on a landing pad. Crimson-robed Cogs departed the ship from hatches in its belly. Muscular abominations, naked aside from metal plates grafted over their groins and their mouths, pushed laden repulsor sleds down lowered loading ramps. Bright green goggles covered their eyes and tubes their backs.

"Dispatch, this is Seraph Four-Zero—" The human shut the vox down and brought the vehicle to a quick stop beside a line of parked transports marked with the two-faced skull on their doors. Yvraine and the Visarch climbed over the frame and dropped on to the landing pad. The human shunted his ride in to reverse, backed it up, threw it in to a turn, and drove off.

All these for us? Yvraine slipped through the gap between a vehicle's nose and another's tailgate. Marked supplies and munitions stood on loading pallets seven rows deep. Bipedal power-loaders clanked in and out of the AdMech ship, empty and full pallets trapped in their claws.

Not for us, though she may know more than we.

She?

There. In the company of the Archmagos.

Oh, the beast arises. Yvraine dodged past a power-loader depositing a pallet and strode up to the Archmagos's party. "If we are not standing on ceremony, Archmagos, you had better explain our presence here in brief."

The bloated, segmented body hauled itself down to Yvraine. A twenty-five-foot-tall halberd thudded on the ramp with every step the eight feet took. Moisture coated thin, pallid skin in the shadow of the Archmagos's deep hood. A wizened, albeit human arm dangled from the folds of a torn, tattered robe. It was the thing's one remaining organic appendage.

"Mmm, the young Prophet…" The Archmagos lumbered to a stop and towered over Yvraine and the Archmagos. "Ygraine and…?"

"My bodyguard, the Visarch. A vow of silence binds his tongue, Archmagos. You will address me and me alone."

"Well then I must disappoint you, young Prophet. Another of yours travels in my company. She may be better informed than I to address you."

"Veilwalker…"

"What strange company we find ourselves in, Lady Prophet." A lithe, faceless being in a black bodysuit moved out from behind the Archmagos and curtsied. Bright blue lines twisted and curled around her thighs and her torso, ending in an oval gem embedded in the suit's midriff. The ends of an emerald-green scarf dangled down her back and drifted behind her. A purple hood covered her head.

"Harlequin. Archmagos, my kin and I will speak on matters regarding our mission."

"Most certainly, Lady Ygraine." The Archmagos shambled on to the landing pad and led the retinue of tech-priests and drones away.

Pantheon ablaze, Veilwalker! Yvraine took the Veilwalker's arm and steered her clear of the humans. Now is not the time to muscle in on Ynnari designs. We have the Archmagos and his followers, so let us depart post-haste! The Harlequin has no say in this matter.

And what matter is this, Lady Prophet? Do you even know why we came here?

Black clouds exploded in the sky above a hangar a little less than a kilometre away. A light automatic cannon thumped. Yvraine and the Veilwalker swung in the direction of the blasts. Yvraine let go of the Veilwalker's arm. I hope to Ynnead it was not to die with the humans. I can think of no worse a fate.

If I told you, would you believe me?

Your word over the human's always, Veilwalker.

What know you of resurrection?

A sonic boom reached their ears. Wind ruffled the Veilwalker's hood. Danger. The Visarch put a hand around Yvraine's shoulder. Not safe to tarry. An alarm blared across the landing ground. Yvraine, I must take you to safety.

No such haven exists on this world, Laari.

Like it or not, Visarch, we war with the humans against Chaos. That is our objective, Lady Prophet, to bring the Archmagos' package to the Ultramar.

Package. What is this package you speak of? A human starship, ablaze from prow to stern, rocketed overhead. The Visarch pushed Yvraine down by her shoulders. The Veilwalker ducked too.

Cast aside your doubts, Prophet, Visarch. See firsthand our enemy's unrestricted rampage. That is no military vessel.

We would do the same.

"No, we would not! Our virtues lie in matters wholly different to the butcher's lot. Our honour as warrior-dancers elevates us above flinging such cruelty towards the weak. Where is your honour, Prophet? Lost at the wayside when you ceased calling yourself warrior-dancer, no doubt…"

Venom whither your lips. Yvraine's fingertips found the knife in her sash.

Seek conflict in another lifetime, I beg. The Visarch steadied Yvraine's arm. Arm yourself with words, not Wraithbone.

Yvraine clenched her fist at her side."This—this package. Tell me all."

"In the Archmagos's company, Lady Prophet. After we…" The landing platform juddered and lowered, bringing the entire ship and the vehicles below ground level. "After we have made our descent in to darkness, let the light shine on our magnum opus."

Far above Yvraine, steel jaws edged towards one another and boomed shut.

The Naxa Sea, 05:18 (MNT Time)

Spray blowing in the Rangers' face, Captain Lyzaro raised a single finger and mouthed two words. Shenae dipped their wings and broke formation. Lyzaro's Shenae and another gained altitude. Izuru shouldered her lasblaster and pointed it at a tower rising from the churning sea. Her thumb set the safety to 'semi'.

Haulers laden with shipping containers heaved in the swell beneath the main platform. Red lights topping pylons blinked in the pre-dawn grey. A rain-slicked landing pad rushed up to the Shenae. Izuru reached behind and swiped her sodden cameleoline away from the step and dropped. Her feet splashed in a puddle and wind whipped her hood back. Brenya's feet thudded behind her, flinging water everywhere. The Shenae's repulsors gushed over the crouched Rangers.

"Captain? CAPTAIN!" Brenya lowered her lasblaster and belted after the Shenae. Snagged to the step by his Cameleoline, Lyzaro kicked his legs and wrenched at his cape. Both Shenae lifted off from the landing pad, leaving the two teams crouched and facing outwards with weapons raised.

"Ensor! ENSOR!" Brenya dashed over to the leader of the other team and shook his shoulder. "BRING THEM BACK!"

"Shit." Izuru threw a quick look at the Shenae and the struggling Lyzaro. "Rangers, cover your sectors."

A body thudded. Rangers rushed to the edge of the landing pad and surrounded the still Lyzaro. "COVER!"

A searchlight swung out from the central platform and fell upon the Rangers. Izuru snapped her magnifier in place and toggled her sight's illumination. "Eyes on us. Eyes on us!" The glowing dot settled on a human behind the searchlight. Izuru touched the lasblaster's firing stud. Glass exploded outwards.

"Do not fire unless fired upon!" The human reeled away from the searchlight and ran.

Izuru tapped the firing stud twice. The human spun around and toppled sideways. Wispy steam drifted from the lasblaster's muzzle. "Rangers, to me!" The ten Rangers held their perimeter around the fallen Lyzaro. "Captain, we must advance and quickly." Izuru bounded over.

"Silence, Ranger! You broke the rules of engagement. How dare you give me orders!" Ensor bundled his cameleoline beneath Lyzaro's head. Others held their capes over Lyzaro's body. "Brenya, lead your team. Consolidate with Salazar on the main platform—GO!"

"Your order." Brenya grabbed the scattershot from where it lay next to Lyzaro and flung a full bandolier at Izuru. "At my shoulder, Ranger."

"Keep a short leash, Brenya. Eldani, accompany Brenya's team."

Short leash! Izuru pursed her lips and followed in Brenya's footsteps down from the landing pad. Four other Rangers accompanied them. Boilers chugged away inside the tower. A tight staircase, hemmed in by a mesh fence, climbed down the hexagonally-shaped tower, forcing the team in to single file. Four flights beneath the main landing pads, Brenya led Izuru and the team in to a terminus holding a double set of mag-rails.

"Annhirath Two to Tharet Leader. Shuttle system intact. Shuttle itself absent. I request permission to summon the shuttle and proceed to main complex." Brenya flicked her hand. "Thelios, work that human contraption." Izuru moved over to the control panel. "Not you. Take cover with Lyzaro's team. Do it now!"

"Your team now, Ranger," Izuru said.

"Shut up, outsider! Find cover."

Izuru took cover in the shadow of a row of coolant tanks behind the terminus and aimed through a crack between them. Rangers hid themselves around the terminus and covered the rails.

"Shuttle is in-station and vacant. I have called it over." Thelios hunkered down next to Brenya and Izuru.

"Hold here, Spectres." Brenya touched her earpiece. "Tharet Leader, Annhirath Two. What is Annhirath Leader's condition?"

Izuru flipped her magnifier aside and rubbed the close-range sight with a cloth.

"I understand. You are clear to bring Annhirath Leader inside, Tharet Leader. Our immediate surroundings are secure."

"Stand-to." Izuru levelled her lasblaster at the blunt nose of the incoming shuttle.

"Stand-to?" Thelios took aim beside her.

"Captain Lyzaro cannot be moved." Brenya picked up her weapon and whistled at the team. "Move in. Move in."

The Rangers bore down on the shuttle and swept inside the two carriages. "Clear."

"Tharet Leader, Annhirath Two. Proceeding to Phase One objective. Can you confirm the other teams' status?"

Izuru sat down and laid the bulky scattershot on the adjacent foldout seat. Brenya, Thelios, Eldani, and the others formed a closed circle and leaned their heads close. The shuttle doors sealed and a hum grew. Wind and rain lashed the mag-rail on the journey across. Izuru broke the scattershot and closed the breech. A pair of thin binders landed on the seat next to her.

"Do try and steer clear of maximum force where you can," Brenya said. "Have you made aggressive entry before?"

"Eighth." Izuru clipped the binders to a loop on her vest. Six simulated.

"I see." Brenya frowned at the scattershot. "Reign yourself in, outsider."

"I am one of you."

"That vessel left port long ago."

A swift loss in momentum brought the Rangers' weapons up. The team split and left by separate doors in to a room identical to the terminus on the outlying tower. Painted on the yellow wall were thick, human numerals; 03-NW.

"Gantries above." Izuru tracked her sights across an upper level circuiting the room. The Rangers cleared the spaces between consoles and the maintenance area beneath the rails. A tinted, glass partition separated a control centre overlooking the shuttle bay. Izuru kept her eyes on that and joined the stacking Rangers before a fork in a corridor leading in two directions up and down a floor.

"Ground deck clear. Build to first. Your deck, Thelios." Brenya lowered her lasblaster and ushered Thelios two spaces forwards in the line.

Izuru opened her mouth then shut it. Blast this. I should be in command. Thelios swung around the corner with Brenya in tow. The scattershot hit Izuru's thigh when she followed and smacked it again. Not a single soul occupied the control centre. No cup stains on the desks or crumbs wedged inside the keyboards. "Rygho, search for any surveillance and check their alert level." Brenya kicked a wheeled chair aside and opened a chest of drawers and walked her fingers through the files. "Tharet Leader, Annhirath Two. We are overlooking the shuttle terminus to your platform now. No contacts. Nothing on scanners either. Reinforcements would be ideal if you can spare them. Yes, I understand. Yes, we will hold our position."

"How many are coming over?" Izuru held position by the control centre's door and watched the corridor outside.

Brenya approached and leaned in. "That is team leader knowledge." Brenya patted Izuru's shoulder. "Know your place, Ranger."

"Brenya? I have access to shuttle controls only." Rygho tapped away at a keypad. "There are only faint fingerprints coating these keys."

"Your point?" Brenya left Izuru alone.

"These facilities have been run autonomously for a good long while now. No human has operated inside this control centre. There is further proof…" Rygho ran a finger along the grey tabletop beneath the chunky keypad and showed it to Brenya. "No common work surface gathers such dust if used so frequently."

"Can you find out the purpose of this facility?"

"Drilling platform, most likely," Izuru said. "Hence the underground facilities."

"Singular purpose only on this station. I would need to access the platform's central cogitator to find its true purpose."

"Try jacking in?"

"And discern what exactly? How fast the shuttles can make the journey across?"

"Compartmentalisation. How very human."

"Shuttle pulling in." Thelios said. "Three aboard."

Izuru sensed the three Rangers climbing the stairs and lowered her lasblaster. "Ashen pit?" A masked Ranger marched inside the control centre.

"So far." Brenya tossed another set of binders over. "I should underline the necessity of non-lethal force, as stated by First Captain Yirryl himself. We fire only if fired upon. If any human you meet is carrying a weapon, boldly declare your allegiance and advise they divest themselves of their arms. Failure to comply after the second warning shall be taken as an act of aggression. Engage at your discretion then."

"Boldly declare our allegiance?" Izuru's mouth dropped. "And how do you imagine the human – our eternal enemy for ten-thousand years – reacts to armed, aggressive xenos invading his territory, even after declaring themselves?"

"I am so thankful the first captain held you back from command." Brenya smiled. "Fall in. Do as you are commanded. There will be no second warning, Ranger."

The three newcomers stared at Izuru and the scattershot at her hip. Izuru's eyes passed around the watching Rangers and backed away and took position by the entrance. Who are you all? Is it me or them?

Rygho led the team on building the fifth deck. Light shone down from an open doorway leading out on to a walkway just beneath the twin barrels of a surface-to-air missile battery. Rain dripped from the barrels and shone on the rusted railing.

Rygho clenched a fist and flattened against the wall just inside the door. Brenya, Izuru, and the others pushed themselves in to the wall and aimed at five humans in shining oilskins wandering past the door.

"Any weapons, Rygho?"

"None visible." Rygho let his lasblaster hang by its sling and drew a coil of fibre-wire.

Brenya nudged Izuru's muzzle down. "Non-lethal only." Izuru's hand, fixed around the rough handle of her blade, relaxed. Rain gathered around the rivets and between the crosses on the iron walkway. Rygho drew his fibre-wire taut. "Hold." Brenya opened a cover on her wrist and tapped keys. "Eyes going out." Brenya fed a fibre-optic cable to Rygho. A holographic feed expanded and showed the area around the corner. All five humans had gathered beneath the overhanging floor and leaned on the rail next to a crane arm. Brenya retracted the cable and drew a two-pronged rod. Thelios extended a baton. "Execute."

The Rangers darted around the corner. Izuru stole up to a human and swung the butt of her lasblaster in to the human's head. Brenya's victim convulsed and collapsed against the railing. Rygho floored his target and shoved his knee in to the small of his back. Batons thudded and boots laid in to bodies.

"Any weapons?" Brenya dragged her victim's oilskin off and patted him down.

"None."

"Nothing yet."

"Thelios cover us!"

Izuru ran her hands up and down the human's arms and around his stomach. No holster, no knife, nothing. Her hands came upon a hard, rigid shell around the human's left knee. She rolled the trouserleg up and found a grey cast around a thin, medical garment. "Wounded servicemen."

"That is how it looks." Rygho sat his dazed human up. A thin sling swathed the human's right arm.

"Wrists." Brenya clamped binders around her victim's wrists and sat him against the railing.

"Uhhh… Who—who are you?"

"Be silent." A Ranger pushed his muzzle at the human. "Nobody dies."

Izuru propped her bleeding target against the railing and bound his wrists. The human's bleeding head lolled to one side. His mouth hung open. "Where is your commanding officer?" Izuru slapped the human's cheek. "Where are the other humans?" Izuru backhanded the human with enough force to whip his head about.

Brenya bent down and laid two fingers on the human's wrist. "You killed him."

"Oh, Gods." Rygho turned away and pinched the skin on his brow.

"Brute."

"You should not have come."

"I think that makes these your responsibility, outsider." Brenya hauled the scattershot's sling over Izuru's head and took the bandolier with it. "You do not stand relieved until the first captain's say-so." Brenya pushed in her earpiece. "Tharet Leader, Annhirath Two. Five humans apprehended on deck five walkway facing north-west. Four warm, one cold." Izuru kicked the oilskins in to a pile and hitched her lasblaster's sling higher around her shoulder. "No, silent takedown. Yes, yes it was her." Izuru's head twitched. "Orders have been issued to guard the prisoners. We have yet to fully sweep deck five. Any word on the other teams?"

"I think you have done enough for today." Thelios was there at Izuru's shoulder. Izuru drew her hood and put herself at a distance from the other Rangers.

"Spectres, proceed." Brenya led off. "Not one more, outsider."

"Outsider." The Rangers filed past, glaring at Izuru beneath their hoods.

"Outsider."

Izuru watched the Rangers slink around the platform's walkway until they were out of sight. She pushed away from the wall, grabbed a human by the hair and pulled his head up. Each one sat against the railing dazed or unconscious. Izuru paced. Her forehead burned. Teeth ground against each other.

"P—please…" A human lifted his bound hands. "Are you a—a soldier? You are surely. A soldier, just like us—"

Izuru opened her holster and pressed her sidearm in to the human's temple. "No. You are nothing like us! You ruined my life, now I will ruin yours."

"No. No, no, no." The human shivered. Water ran through his hair and dribbled down his face. "I have a—I have a family."

"So did I!" Izuru reversed the laspistol and cracked it across the human's nose. His shoulder hit the deck.

"Argh! No, no please!" Another human squirmed. "H—HELP!" Izuru's fist broke the human's jaw.

"How about you? Do you have a family too?" Izuru sat a white-faced human up and laid the laspistol's sights between his eyes.

"Mmm." The human twisted his head away. "Mm-mn."

"You?" Izuru backed up and pointed her sidearm at another human. "You?"

"Please. Please do not shoot…" The human nearest the dead body gripped the railing and pulled himself up. "Please do not shoot. I—" Izuru's finger touched the firing stud. Blood burst from torsos. Bodies jerked and shoulders and heads slumped. "I have two sons—" The human staggered and fell in to the railing. His arm landed in his lap. Smoke rose from the red cavity in his chest. Izuru lowered her sidearm and headed after the Rangers. Liquid blood spread beneath the bodies and dripped from the edge of the walkway.

Magna Macragge Civitas, Ahzov, 18:34 (MMC Time)

Bright strips in the floor and ceiling cast light across the vast docking bay. Power-loaders continued to ferry the cargo from the AdMech ship on to the bay floor for the naked abominations to load on to the four-wheeled transports. The Veilwalker caressed one particular crate sitting on its own on a pallet. "The fruits of our labour, Lady Prophet."

Yvraine rapped upon the crate. "Three guesses, or do I only have the one?"

"You could just ask…"

"Then pray tell, Veilwalker."

"You could ask. I never said I would tell you though." The Veilwalker pranced through the stacked pallets over to the Archmagos.

I never found their caste humorous, Laari. Tricksters and charlatans.

Did your surcoat not button up over exactly that once upon a time, Yvraine?

Yvraine swept through the pallets after the Veilwalker and found the Archmagos's company bolstered by a human in blue body armour and a field cap screwed upon grey stubble covering his head. He carried no weapon on his person. "Archmagos?"

"Come forth, Lady Ygraine." The Archmagos waved his halberd. "Major, our honoured guests."

Lines deepened on the human's scarred face. He plucked a lit cigar from his teeth. "These are the xenos of whom you speak, Archmagos?"

"Major, I am the Prophet of Ynnead. I stand with my bodyguard and Sylandri Veilwalker. We are here on an urgent mission as guest of the Archmagos. You have been briefed, have you not?"

Poor, simple-minded human. The Veilwalker twirled the end of her scarf.

"Xenos… err, ma'am, I have drivers authorised to take you wherever you need to go in MC. One section of Auxilia is all general headquarters can spare, what with the enemy in atmosphere and banging on our door as we speak. I assume the package's contents are classified…?"

"You assumed correctly, major," said the Archmagos. "It is far, far above your paygrade. Once it is loaded safely, we can proceed."

"You can keep it." The Auxilia major stuck his cigar in between his chops and strolled across to the vehicle at the head of the column. "For the record, we never asked for your help."

The Archmagos thumped the butt of his halberd on the deck. "Graagh…"

"Archmagos?" The Veilwalker laid a hand on the haft. "Grateful are we for long-standing collaboration with your scientists. Does your heart not fill with joy at ten-thousand years toil finally reaching conclusion?"

Ten-thousand years? Yvraine and the Visarch looked at one another.

Beware. The Visarch steered Yvraine clear of the abominations loading the package in to a vehicle's cargo bay. We should be moving shortly.

"Veilwalker?" Yvraine grasped the Veilwalker's sleeve. "Where are you going?"

"Be not alarmed. I would know of the human plight on the surface." The Veilwalker tugged her arm free and approached the major.

Ugh, meddler. Yvraine slunk behind the tailgate and listened.

"How fares the common warrior, major?"

"Is this relevant to your mission, xenos?" The major said from the cab.

"Our mission would not mean much if the planet beneath our feet had crumbled away."

"There will not be another Cadia here, xenos!" A chewed cigar landed at the Veilwalker's feet. The major wound up the window.

No business of ours! Yvraine snatched at the Veilwalker's arm.

Aren't you in a touchy mood. The Veilwalker yanked her arm away. How is your sexless union anyway?

Lady Veilwalker, the Archmagos' transportation has been summoned. The Visarch indicated an open-topped skiff gliding along the tunnel towards the dock. We may be required to ride with the humans.

Not I, bodyguard. Not I. The Veilwalker made her way over to the Archmagos's party and curtsied.

I can tell a satisfied smile behind a mask. I do not like it, Laari. Yvraine glared at the Veilwalker clambering aboard the skiff with the Archmagos and the other Cogs.

Respect should be observed from here on, Yvraine. This matter is no longer a tasteful topic. We have been through it so often!

Oh, Laari, could you not make it your mandate to point out everything before I see it? You are sworn protector to me, not chaperone.

A honk came from the major's vehicle. He leaned out of the window and pounded on the door.

I am certain the Archmagos would be accommodating…

Not with her aboard. Yvraine marched back along the column. Human eyes watched her in their wing-mirrors. The AdMech skiff – packed with crimson robes clustered around their leader – gained altitude and drifted in a slow circle until it faced the direction from where it came. Damn her. Damn her. Yvraine hoisted herself inside the vehicle containing the package and squeezed in next to it. Laari!

The vehicle's springs creaked causing the cab's occupants to take turns peering in the central mirror at the passengers. Both wore blue ballistic armour identical to the major's, only with orange visors on their helmets hiding their eyes. You would think they have never seen our kind before.

In all regard, their values of other species will have been distorted by the lies their propaganda machine turns out.

Half-lies, Laari. We are no saints.

Engines spluttered, grey clouds popped from exhausts, and gearboxes crunched. With the Archmagos's skiff leading the column, the wheeled transports tacked on. Arrows lit up on the deck and pointed the column at the fifth of nine tunnel entrances at the far end of the dock.

Ugh, nicotine. Yvraine wafted the air around her head. A pestilence upon whoever invented such a self-destructive consumable.

For the soothing of fraught nerves. A very high percentage of human warriors partake in it, you know. The vehicle passed beneath an archway in to the tunnel. The onboard vox crackled and whined.

"Bastard thing. Not one of those damned techpriests lifting a finger to help." The human in the passenger seat twiddled the vox's dial. Smoke curled from an ashtray behind the handbrake.

Bastard tongue. The vehicle changed lanes, jolting the passengers.

"…five-zero personnel backed up by eight Delta Alphas proceeding west along Highway three-three at grid 356-389. Can your Thunderbolts take out the Highway three-three overpass?"

"Ferrous Two-Six, do you have suitable elevation to engage the enemy personnel with small arms? Over."

"Carpal, Two-Six. Negative. It would be easier to drop the whole road. Over."

"Two-Six, Carpal. I will relay your request to Sordin FAC. Over."

"I fear there will nothing left outside MC once we have driven the enemy off-world." The driver reached over and turned the volume down. "Enough now."

"I was listening to that." The passenger passed his lit cigarette to the driver. "One of these and another packet, and I have control of the vox on this trip."

"Just the way there."

"The way there and back."

"One packet and a half."

"Done."

"All yours."

Static bled from the vox. "…east of the Laponis! I say again, enemy droptroopers are east of the Laponis river. I count two-two-zero armed personnel backed up by biped mechs and tracked armoured personnel carriers rolling east towards Castle of the Mechanicum. Is there any information on the callsigns in that sector? Over."

"God-Emperor, that is less than ten klicks away." Brakelights shone ahead. "Now what?"

The column halted in a passage with viewports overlooking an eight-laned roadway jammed solid with stationary traffic. Civilians sat on roofs. Families huddled beneath awnings hanging between vehicles. An uneven queue ran back from a fat pot balanced on a foldout table. Some humans held plates and bowels, others plastic bags or nothing at all.

"Stretch our legs?" The Auxilia switched off and climbed down from the cab. Yvraine lowered her head and listened.

"Still here, are they?" Both humans wandered over to the viewport and lit up. "There was a blonde down in the queue yesterday. I wonder if she is still there."

"Still there, still married probably."

"You never know."

"Look, if she is young and attractive, someone else has already snatched her up. They don't wait, y'know. They never wait."

Engines kicked in to life. The Auxilia climbed back in to the cab and started up. After a right turn at a T-junction, the column mounted a ramp leading up to ground level. Yvraine leaned out of the vehicle when it crested a hump and joined an arrow-straight carriageway in the city centre. Bright orange clouds hung over a city filled with towers over a thousand feet high, many linked by skybridges and enclosed mag-rails. Cannon boomed and automatics thumped. Jet engines roared. Fallen statues lay in pieces at the roadside. Blue-grey plasma burns stained the walls of buildings and gigantic barricades blocked off many streets from the main avenue.

You never saw a city on fire before, did you? Neither have I. Bright flames crackled in the ground floor of an apartment building. The whole atrium had become a swirling inferno. Yvraine craned her neck. White sheets with letters printed on it hung from balconies on the higher levels. HELP.

Auxilia clad in respirators patrolled empty streets. Vermin skittered in and out of grates in the gutter. Human fighter-bombers flew overhead. Yvraine noticed a few of the tallest spires standing at slight angles. Entire chunks of their superstructure had been blown away.

"Attention all U-Force callsigns. We have reports of enemy suiciders hiding amongst civilians. This is a planet-wide directive. Any civilian approaching your position is now a legitimate target, age and sex notwithstanding. Prosecute at your discretion. Out."

The driver opened his glove compartment and laid a laspistol in his lap. "Cowards, hiding among civilians."

"They are cowards for using them as shields, Devall."

"You know that's what I meant, Brooklan." Devall said.

I agree with the human.

Sympathise not with the cur, Laari.

They have a strange sense of honour, but it is honour nonetheless. The same cannot be said for the enemy.

Tank traps, concertina wire, and steel caskets bulging with rocks choked the column to a crawl through a checkpoint guarding an intersection. Auxilia hunched behind tripod-mounted bolters and counter-snipers armed with missile launchers kneeled on nearby rooftops.

Eyes down, Yvraine. Yvraine's eyes fixed on the package's lid until their vehicle had passed through the checkpoint and turned right on to another straight avenue.

"Five nights on the trot. What do you think the odds are that we will be bombed tonight?" Devall said.

"Worse. It will be worse tonight. You can hope as much as you want. Hope is never a good one to rely on."

"Like a whore?"

"Like a whore."

A square archway, large enough to permit the passage of air traffic, blotted out the few weak rays of light left in the sky. Scorch marks and blue stains dotted the sculptures. Chunks of masonry the size of buildings littered the avenue, forcing the vehicles to zig-zag.

Marble, I think it is called. Such a clean white.

And for it, I am thankful. Their way of expressing themselves is odd, but you cannot deny it has a certain splendour.

Would have had a certain splendour, Laari. Everything the human touches burns or crumbles to dust eventually. Youth will bless us still even after this outpost is consigned to oblivion. And for that, I am thankful.

You may be in for a surprise.

Brakes squeaked and the column halted at building looking over a T-junction leading north and south. Baraki Executive Offices. This cannot be our destination.

"Debus if you please, Lady Xenos." The Auxilia major tramped along the transports to Yvraine and the Visarch. "Follow me inside."

I cannot remember a reception quite as undignified as this. Yvraine vaulted over the tailgate. No offering assistance, Laari. I would not reinforce their sexist notions.

The male and the female of the species are equally tenacious in frontline duties. Surely it is testament to the skill of the female that we are seeing fewer here, away from the fighting.

An electronic beep from a scanner halted Yvraine inside hardbag barricades built up in the offices' atrium. "Arms up." A human waved a hand scanner at Yvraine. "Arms up." Yvraine raised her arms. "Turn around."

Be courteous, Yvraine.

Stay your tongue, Laari.

The scanner beeped at Yvraine's right wrist. "Off with it. Slowly now."

As you wish. Yvraine kept her arm raised, pinched the material at her elbow and pulled back her sleeve. "Weapon!" Auxilia raised weapons. Yvraine guided the leather straps through the buckles and dropped the drawer slide behind her. A boot dragged it away.

"Turn around. Unbutton the jacket."

A sentinel's off hand slapped the tubular slide of a pump-action scattergun and his glove tightened around the polymer. Yvraine undid her surcoat down to the waist and held it open.

"Both belts off."

Gods, this is sheer paranoia now.

"Both belts off." The scattergun-armed human racked the weapon's slide. A blue cartridge fell from the chamber and hit the floor. Yvraine undid the sash around her waist and handed it over. "You, raise your arms," the human said to the Visarch.

"Concealed weapon. Unknown substance on the blade, sir."

"Impound." The major came to face Yvraine. "I will have that blade in your hair too, ambassador."

Almost everything. How very thorough. Yvraine worked her fan free and gave it up. Of course, how does one disarm a psyker?

Their bullets can, Yvraine.

"Follow me." The major led Yvraine and the Visarch across a glass floor at the base of a very wide stairwell. Each of the seven floors could look down on the glass from above, and every single floor hosted Auxilia, be they wounded, resting, tinkering with weapons, or being briefed.

"The Archmagos, Major…?"

"Factoring in space restrictions, the Archmagos himself will not be joining you in person. From now on, all communications between you and the AdMech will go through U-Force channels—this way."

The higher the floor, the thinner the Auxilia numbers, until on the sixth floor the major showed Yvraine and the Visarch in to an executive suite, half-conference room, half penthouse without any signs of occupation. "Remain in these rooms. You may not leave without an escort. If you do, my Auxilia are authorised to prosecute. There will be a guard outside should you need summon me."

"Until when, Major?"

"Until the CM can fit you and the Archmagos in to his schedule. Planetary and orbital defence matters bind his hands."

"CM?"

"The Chapter Master – Lord Macragge. The green light for your operation rests with him, and God-Emperor, I have little doubt he would not laugh his head off once word reaches him of your collaboration." The major stepped out and held his hand over a palm-sensor, sealing the door.

Authorised to prosecute. Yvraine headed down the spinal corridor separating the conference room from the penthouse. Oh, it is her.

"My friends…" Sylandri Veilwalker lay with her hands behind her head on a double bed.

"No friends of yours, Harlequin."

"Lady Prophet…" The Veilwalker kicked her legs and launched her body upright. "…I am the only friend you have on this damned planet. Are you not relieved at my presence?"

"Relief may be forthcoming…" Yvraine sat herself on the bed next to the Veilwalker. "…Should you inform me precisely the contents of that container and how it is of benefit to us."

"Ohh, Lady Prophet!" The Veilwalker pattered at the sheet cover. "Seduction is not a quick-step, it is a slow dance; a lazy back and forth—"

"I could take what I wanted right now if I so desired. One sortie, and all your deepest, most terrible secrets shall be mine."

"Mm-hmph." The Veilwalker threw back her head. "You would have it wilfully divulged, as if I was your faithful subject. Do you want your subjects' love?"

Yvraine, will you see this with me?

Thank Ynnead, Laari. Yvraine left the Veilwalker in the penthouse and came over to the conference suite.

I would pray, not give thanks just yet. The Visarch stood before an open door leading on to a balcony.

Pray for what? A human gunship howled past the window, black smoke streaming from its engines. Yvraine flinched. Pantheon ablaze!

The balcony looked out over gardens thick with felled trees, broken fountains, and torn-up flowerbeds. Derelict armour, half-buried in the dirt, smouldered. Blood darkened corpse-choked rivers. Trenches had been dug and lined with sandbags. Astartes in armour of the same tone as the Auxilia manned defences around a tall monument topped with a statue; only the legs of which remained. Civilians, funnelled through wire corridors, queued for commercial craft. An emergency siren wailed in the distance.

Pay no attention, Laari. Yvraine turned away. If the humans want another Cadia, I am happy to oblige. Turn your thoughts to the infiltration teams half the world away. I expect their mission has concluded. Laari? Laarian! Please shed no tears for the humans. You are so much better than that.

None fall for their kind. Strain gnaws at my heart for our precious kin who will undoubtedly perish if Chaos Undivided triumphs here as they did at Cadia. Beings without stake. Beings who wish for nothing but a quiet life free from fear. I would like to believe what we are doing here is right.

The windows buzzed. A thump-thump-thump reached Yvraine's ears. Little beings. Come away, Laari. The civilians ducked and clung to each other. Artillery stamped across the gardens, flinging dirt, stone, and ripped-up sandbags over the queues. Laari, we await news from the Ranger corvette. If we are taken hostage, their leaders die. Take solace in that.

There are times, Yvraine, when I not only regret being born with such gifts… The golden mask covering the Visarch's face came away. But I am ashamed to be a member of the Eldar race.

Oh, preach to another, Laari!

What does the word Eldar mean to you? The Visarch lowered his hood. Silvery hair tinged with lilac fell down a creased brow. Bright green eyes fixed, unblinking, on Yvraine. Elder? As the elder of the galactic races, is it not our mandate to offer guidance to the younger species?

Not if they find our very existence an offence, Laari. Were it not for the Archmagos' counsel, I would have purged our fleet of the humans and given our warriors the slaughter they crave.

A slaughter you say? The Visarch flung his arm at the artillery pounding the evacuation site. Look no further than that if blood is all you desire.