Sorry I took so long. Mid-terms are a bitch. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you guys, but my style of writing means that there's gonna be some nasty brick walls that I have to beat my head against before continuing. Once I find a way through, however, it's smooth sailing. I'd like to thank A Drunk Canadian for his massive amounts of input on my last chapter (sorry, forgot about you :P) But yeah if you guys have any suggestions, feel free to tell me. Also, as you might already know (not sure) I live on a diet of straight Metal. That's all kinds of metal from ear-shatteringly brutal bands like Cannibal Corpse and Lamb of God (who I saw yesterday and got all of their autographs :D), to melodic Power Metal bands like Pathfinder and Blind Guardian. I love it all. Anyway I was listening to one band, called Symphony X (the guitarist is insane) and I came across this song here /watch?v=Y8s3LVHH5Dk called "The Sacrifice". It goes so perfectly perfect with this story that I was literally in tears as I listened to it. Anyway, next chapter is coming. There will be action, don't worry (I mean the killing kind) but I just have to find good places to put it. Since they're heading into an area South of the Eldar lines which were on the Southern end of the Dome of Shattered Skies (I think that's what I called it) with the Imperial forces coming from the North, there's a good chance they'll be caught in quite the clusterf*ck in a little while.

Andron's eyes snapped open. Laying still, his arms around the woman he loved, his eyes took in the room around him. They were alone, and it was daytime, the sun's rays lancing into the room made visible by dust in the air. The ground shook slightly, followed by a deep rumble that faded after several seconds. The sound of las shots was slightly more audible. The battle had drawn closer over the course of the night. They would have to move, and do so soon… but where would they go? He leaned his head back, and watched her as she slept huddled against him. He gently stroked her upper arm and placed a kiss on her cheek, causing her to stir. Her eyes fluttered open halfway, before a look of slight shock crossed her face.

She looked down. She saw her bare breasts resting up against his chest. She thought it had all been a dream… the events of the past night flooded back into her mind from the electrifying first kiss to the soothing comfort of falling asleep in his arms, her pains finally melting away. She smiled.

"Thank you,"

"For what?" Andron smiled at her affectionately.

She sighed, some of the pain from the end of the night coming back. "For being there. I've… never had that before." She embraced him tightly. "My people think it unnecessary to have someone to comfort you the way you did for me last night. I was conditioned to avoid such things, for danger of being consumed by She Who Thirsts, and also simply as a reflection of our prudish society, but all of my pains just festered over time as a result. I had to carry them with me as they accumulated. You gave me a place where I felt safe to finally let them out. I needed that… I have for a long time."

She meant, he realized, the latter part of their experience together, when she wept in his arms. He was afraid to touch on the subject of what happened before, whether or not she was comfortable with what he had done to her… it had been for her, he thought, hadn't it? The thought was caustic, eating away at him with each passing second. Surely she remembered what had preceded what she had mentioned, and if so, she showed no hostility or regret over it. He had to know, though. She had to tell him herself before he would dismiss it.

"A-"an explosion, much nearer now, rattled the windows. They had to move immediately or else risk being caught in a battlefield. "We have to go. Now," It took all of his willpower to get up and break his embrace with her, but he knew that to remain there would mean death. It would almost be worth it if not for the wasted future.

Aureleth stood, slipping into her suit, hiding her beauty once more from his eyes before beginning to don her armor. Andron stepped into his fatigues and boots before putting on the rather scant armor that he had and hauling his pack onto his back. He bent to pick up his lasrifle, planning their next move… whatever it would be.

"You live here, so I'll assume that you know somewhere we can go to…" he had no idea at all. It still almost seemed surreal. He finished his sentence with what was their only viable next step, "plan."

Aureleth affixed the final pieces of her armor before picking up her helmet and holding it tucked under her arm, shuriken pistol and chainsword at her side. "Rimward from here are the Plains of Ildanesh. I came here from the Dome of Falling skies, where our… the Eldar and Imperial lines were skirmishing. It looked to be a stalemate. On the other side of the Plains is a transport hub. There are several here, but they are several miles away, and we would most likely have to run through warzones to reach them. Our best option is to get to that hub, and then we can decide what to do after that. We will at least have bought some time." She looked up from thinking, to see him looking out of the window intently. "What is it?"

"We better get going, someone's getting pushed back, and I sure as hell don't want to be caught up in it." The fact that they had little in the way of food and supplies jumped into his head. "We need food. If we're crossing plains, and judging by the size of this place, we're definitely going to need it."

"Maybe below us?"

"Sure," he looked out the window again. "We should go."

They searched the house, finding some food that he had not the slightest idea as to what it was, but hoped he could eat, and some water. It would last them a few days. As they made to leave, they could hear the first cries of death and shouts of the day amidst the growing din of gunfire. Andron exited the house out of its back, lasrifle raised ready to face any danger. He was greeted by a curved road sweeping into the distance between buildings, various passageways between them. A smoky haze from the fighting nearby was settling on the ground, dissipating much of the sunlight and casting an eerie glow throughout the area. Several abandoned vehicles, their sleek curved surfaces beginning to retain a thin coating of dust, lay in the road.

The Plains of Ildanesh were a couple of miles rimward, and it wouldn't take them long to reach the outskirts of the city as long as they were able to avoid any conflict. He swept his lasrifle across the foreign landscape and, seeing nothing, advanced with Aureleth in tow, her weapons at her side, but ready to be used at an instant's notice. They dashed across the road, pressing up against the façade of the dwelling opposite the one they had just exited. Between their cover and the adjacent structure was a small alleyway, and it appeared, judging by the curvature of the road, that the entire city was composed of concentric circles of structures from shops and markets in the center to homes arranged in two rows per ring, backs to each other, on the outskirts. Andron saw a large road cutting through the curved one on which he and Aureleth currently stood. He assumed that it went to the center… and the outskirts.

"Could we take that and make our way to the Plains by following it?" He indicated the road.

"I believe so, but any troop movement and fighting will most likely be centered around those roads, seeing as they allow almost unrestricted travel to the center of the city. We would have to exercise great caution,"

They skirted the ring of buildings until they reached the intersection. Andron poked his head around the corner of the corner-building they were up against before slinking around, and sprinting to the next row of homes. He made to sprint along the wall to the next building up the main road, but felt a hand grab the loop on the back of his vest and pull him back into cover. He looked to his left and saw an Imperial mechanized infantry detachment making its way up the road. A Chimera flanked by over a dozen guardsmen was headed directly for them. If they did not move, they would be seen. Andron frantically sought a place for them to hide before kicking down the door on the wall next to him and slinking inside, with Aureleth in tow. They observed the group through a window, and the tank ponderously made its way past them. From the building next to its position on the road, less than a hundred feet from them on the next ring outward, on the second floor, a flash followed by a missile screaming on a column of fire impacted the tank. A ring of smoke billowed from the impact point as the round penetrated the ceramite armor, the intense heat of the charge melting through it and vaporizing the occupants inside. Immediately following were hails of shuriken fire from all directions, shredding several of the guardsmen before they had even known what had happened. Those that were still alive whipped their rifles toward the sources of the enemy fire and, kneeling, sent volleys of lasfire into the windows and facades of the Eldar structures, melting chunks of the walls and boring holes into the ceilings inside where they shot through windows. It was a scene of utter chaos… a perfect opportunity.

"Come on!" Andron sprinted through the home and kicked open the door on the other end.

There was a small path running to the left and right between the home they had just exited and the one facing away from it that he was now about to enter. Wanting to stay in cover as much as possible, made his way as quickly as possible through that house, too. He shouldered the door open, bursting into the street and the cacophony of war. The sharp smell of explosives and ozone from the lasrifles burned his nose as he sprinted across the street to the next ring with Aureleth right behind him. He lowered his shoulder and, without slowing down, used his body as a battering ram, slamming into the front door of the home opposite the one they had hidden in with all of his might. They were in what appeared to be a room for congregating, with a kitchen adjacent to it with no doors barring entry. To their left was a room separated from their current location by a waist-high wall, with a window facing north, and the street where the battle was currently taking place. East of that room was another that was adjacent to the street, however they could not be seen from it so long as the occupants were to stay. There was a very open feeling to the home—not good for trying to stay hidden. Aureleth took up position right next to him, weapons at the ready.

"We have to keep r—" from outside, he heard the acting commanding officer shout for his troops to find cover in the houses. "Hide!" He grabbed her and pulled her against his side with his right arm while holding his lasrifle at the ready with his left. Together they dove behind the cover of the waist-high wall a few feet from the door that he just broke nearly off of its hinges. They pressed up against it as much as they could, trying to conceal themselves as well as possible. They would have almost nowhere to run if they were seen. From outside came several screams accompanied by the sound of breaking glass as some soldiers were shot down as they attempted to gain entry into the house from the Eldar across the street from them. Glass tinkled on the floor before Andron heard it crunch under heavy footfalls as a Guardsman vaulted the window sill into the house. The implications of what might happen in the next minute began to run through his mind. He had already spared, fallen in love with, and made love to someone he should have, according to his superiors' doctrines, done no less than killed and burnt. There is a difference between saving a life, and then taking one for a righteous cause, however. A dark trial was imminent, he knew. The last time he had been forced to, at gunpoint. The next time, however, it would be his decision. One question remained in his mind: Could he do it? He hoped he would never know.

The man continued forward, pivoting off of his boots and landing on his stomach on the floor with a grunt and a thud. A moan of pain emanated from the man's location cutting through the chilling silence that seemed to fill the home despite a battle raging just outside of its walls. Glass crunched again as he got up, and once again the only noise reaching their ears was from the battle outside. The soft whine of a lasrifle charging made itself barely audible over the din of war. The man must have been in the process of reloading when given the order to move. There were still Eldar warriors in the floor above, and they surely would have heard the Guardsman's intrusion. Andron's fingers opened and closed their grip on the lasrifle, his heart pounding. The last thing he wanted to do was kill a fellow human, but for her…

A flurry of shuriken erupt from the outside walls, shattering the last fragments of glass from the windows and rending the interior walls apart as they tumbled and fragmented, spraying debris and dust in all directions in a hurricane of shrapnel. The other walls were peppered with fragments, the decorations in the room obliterated under a hail of projectiles of all kinds. Shrapnel hissed over Andron's cover, ricocheting off of the walls behind them or embedding itself in furniture. The man swore loudly and Andron heard with mounting terror and dread the heavy footfalls stomping their way. The gunfire that had chased him through the window stopped a split second before he vaulted over the waist-high wall Andron and Aureleth were huddled behind. He was the officer, though not a Commissar. He skidded to a halt before scooting up against the wall with rifle held at the ready. Andron sucked in a breath, though not loudly enough so as to be heard above the gunfire. He gripped Aureleth as tightly as he could with his right arm, as if doing so would make her impossible to see. The man, young, though older than Andron by several years, took the moment of respite he had found to scan his surroundings. Andron gripped his rifle almost as tightly as he did her, preparing for the inevitable. He held it upward towards the ceiling, however, praying that he could somehow avoid having to kill the man, yet remaining prepared as best he could to do so if need be. He would have to rotate his head all the way to the right in order to see them, and there was the slightest chance that he might not have, but that proved false as he found himself staring into the face of a bewildered Guardsman who was obviously wondering who the hell he was and how he had gotten there. Judging by the lack of utter shock on the man's face, Andron knew that he had a few split seconds left before the man saw her.

"You, what the h—"He froze. "What—" It was taking time for his mind to wrap itself around the astronomical magnitude of the heresy he was witnessing so suddenly. Andron gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. He was going to have to do it. There was no choice, no way in the Warp that this man would let them live. He dared not think of the slim possibility that the man might understand, though that did not rule it out. Even if the chances were even that he would not try to kill them, Andron wouldn't risk it… her. He opened his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he leveled his rifle at the man, who was still staring in shock, probably a second or two away from coming out of the trance. Lasrifle on his left arm, the woman he loved cradled in his right, a flabbergasted officer scrambling for his weapon, understanding that his death at the hands of his own kind, not even corrupted by Chaos, but by some other force that he would never understand, was imminent, Andron squeezed the trigger.

The few yards between the officer and Andron were covered in a picosecond by the lasbolt, the air cracking as it was superheated and expanded rapidly by the red bolt of light lancing between the two men, casting an eerie red glow and shadows on their faces and around the room. All three faces were pained, some more deeply than others, one reflecting physical pain, another sympathy and pity, and the third showing a soul having yet another piece torn from it. The room went back to its original tint for a split second before flashing blood red once again as another bolt seared the air between the two, boring deep into the dying guardsman's body, scorching organs, flash-boiling blood causing rapid expansion of the surrounding tissue, destroying his chest. The red glinted off of a tear running down Andron's face. The red flashed several more times over the course of a second before it stopped. The guardsman's mouth was leaking blood ejected from the orifice as it expanded from the heat and he slumped backwards against the wall. The last thing the man saw was a fellow guardsman holding a lasrifle, its muzzle glowing slightly from the heat of firing, with a look of immense pain on his face and a xenos woman held tightly to him. He did not understand, nor did he have time to understand what was happening, and why, but as he felt the last of his life slipping away and his mind drifted towards death… he wondered.

The rifle was heavy, not meant to be held with only one hand at arm's length. That was only compounded by how weak he felt. Andron slumped back, the rifle's muzzle clattering on the ground. He leaned his head back hard against the wall with a thud and sat for several seconds in silence. He squeezed the grip on the lasrifle tightly, then loosened it as his hand tired out. He turned is head down and met her gaze, "Come on. We should get out of here."

He stood wearily, and shuffled over to the corpse. Kneeling down, he reached under the man's collar. Jaravik Brosten. He took one of the tags. There was a small pict in his breast pocket. He gingerly removed it. There was a woman, and a child. They stood in front of a small home in a large open field, the massive spires of a hive visible in the distant background. The sun was setting. He put the pict in his pocket.

She sighed, feeling his pain as she watched him learn not only the identity, but more still of who the man he killed was. "Andron… w—"

"We'll talk about it later," he said, the slightest bit too harshly, squatted and staring at the ground. "I…" he sighed, "let's just g—"

Footsteps resonated from the floor above. His head darted up. "Now!" He motioned to her to follow, rifle in hand and began sprinting toward the rear entrance that would open into another small alleyway separating their current location from the adjacent house. He ran through the hall as fast as his legs could carry him. He was just about to pass where the staircase met the floor when three armored figures seemed to appear out of thin air in front of him. They had leapt down the stairs in almost a single bound, cutting off the rear entrance.

Time seemed to slow. Their green and yellow armor reflected the sunlight coming into the house. Their ornate armor covered their faces, the only expression he could see being one of anger, set into the ruby colored eye-gems on their faces. They were common foot soldiers, Guardians. They seemed slightly startled to suddenly be face to face with a lone guardsman sprinting at them, though not a single shred of fear was evident. They ponderously reached for their weapons as he put every last ounce of effort he could muster into reversing his direction and making it to cover. Engaging three Eldar in hand-to-hand combat was suicide. His only hope was to get to cover, and do so almost instantly. His feet skidded on the smooth floor, dust from the battle that had settled on it slowly rising from its rest into the air in wisps around his feet.

He wasn't going to make it. It had been only a fraction of a second but he could already tell he was going to be too slow, as he had only just turned around. He was going to die, right there, in front of her. Still, he pushed himself as hard as his body would allow to attempt to escape. A thought flashed through his mind. He wondered what they would think... of Aureleth and him. He knew how Guardsmen would think, but maybe… they were different. It probably wasn't going to matter in a split second anyway. A figure wearing green and yellow mesh armor appears in front of him. A hand grabs the loop on his vest and pulls with incredible force, holding on so that he swings around the person the hand belonged to. He lost his balance, and was in the process of falling, turning around to face the three warriors again with his momentum. He landed with a hard thud, his vision going out of focus before returning to normal. She had taken his place. She stood in front of them, where he was a split second before. His mind was filled with utter horror and panic at what would happen next. He couldn't even comprehend what would happen. His mind refused to accept the fact that she might die within the next second. He had no idea what he would do. He only hoped that they would kill him, too.

The warriors froze, completely at a loss as to what just happened. Weapons almost shouldered, they were stuck in place, shocked at what they had seen. One of their own kind had just put her life in danger for a Mon'Kiegh. She stood, having not moved a muscle since releasing the man, hand still extended behind her, feet planted firmly on the floor in a wide stance. She spoke.

She was speaking in her own tongue, so Andron could only guess as to what she was saying, though he was sure that it was in his defense. He was still in a light state of shock, as he'd come within a hair's breadth of death. If it hadn't been for her…

"What do you mean, this Mon'Kiegh saved your life? And why the talk about destiny, are you insane? They just killed five of us!" He pointed a stiff arm toward the street, leaning toward her. The anger displayed on the helmet most likely paled in comparison to the fury written on his face. He was a Guardian, a standard foot soldier yelling right into the face of an ex-Howling Banshee. If she was intent on it, she could probably kill all of them, and given the fact that she was protecting a human, that may very well have been a possibility. Still, he was too uproariously taken aback at the insanity playing out in front of him to bother with such thoughts.

"I mean I'd be dead if it were not for him! Twice, he did. He spared my life. He could have killed me, I was unarmed, but he chose not to. He protected me, from his own kind, too!" She didn't know what she was going to do, though she had a fair idea as to what it would probably be if they tried to kill him.

"He spared you, but how many of us has he killed before, or since then?"

"In all the time that I have seen him, he has killed nobody. We've fought… twice. He always seemed reluctant to engage, but only did so in defense of his own life."

"You've engaged in combat with this Mon'Kiegh?"

"Four years ago, on Auraxis," she sighed. At least they weren't attempting to move past her toward him. The battle was taking a more calm and consistent pace, slowing slightly, but stopping in its waning, reaching a balance of franticness and control.

"How could that possibly be him? They all look the same, and in addition, how are both of you alive? Surely it would have ended in one of your deaths." He was incredulous, still largely at a loss and unable to comprehend the farce of a relationship, in the strictest sense of the word, in front of him.

"I killed him… or so I thought. He was injured badly, against a wall, bleeding and battered. What struck me so much was the look in his eyes. There was no fiery defiance, or blind faith that we have grown so accustomed to dealing with. I saw… enlightenment. He was different. Still, I fired my weapon at his head, caught in a blind fury because of the death of my long-time friend, but some incredible twist of fate saved his life." She didn't know what else to say except their history. Maybe they would believe that fate had something special planned for them.

The warriors shared sidelong glances, their helmets gesturing slightly with the action. They were amused at that point. "Continue. You have my interest, though not because I approve."

She growled quietly. "We fought again, yesterday; though it was after he spared me and we were forced to part ways after his kind were on the brink of finding us. He warned me to escape. We did not see each other until the next day. Though we did not know it, we were to fight again. In that engagement, he killed no one, only defending himself. We fought again, in single hand-to-hand combat—"

"And he survived? He must be a good fighter, for a human."

Andron sat, having absolutely no idea what in the Emperor's name was going on, in the same position he had landed in, rooted in place.

"I defeated him, again," The warriors huffed in contempt at that, reveling in the superiority of their race. "A similar situation played out. I saw that it was him, and that I had nearly killed him. We found shelter in an abandoned building and tended each other's wounds." Memories of that night flooded into her mind, causing her to blush intensely. She thanked the gods for her helmet. Her fists clenched, and she stiffened.

"That still does not answer my question. He spared you, you tried to kill him, we are at war, and you are protecting the enemy. Why?"

She mumbled something, and they were unable to hear.

"I cannot understand you; you realize there is a battle raging outside, correct? While you are here with this hapless Mon'Keigh, our people are dying, because of vermin just like him!"

"You think him a vermin simply because he is human? What about us? What about our fallen brethren, who perform atrocities equally unspeakable as some that we have seen at the hands of humanity? He is not one of them." She still wasn't sure what they would possibly do in the end, but just having more time, even if it were only putting off the inevitable, was worth it.

The senior of the three warriors cocked his head, placing his two fingers against where his ear was under the helmet. "We do not have time for this," he was speaking through gritted teeth. The humans were retreating, and they were to give chase through the surrounding area to hunt them down. "Step aside. We cannot risk letting any of them live." He hefted his rifle.

She snapped, her chainsword flashing from her hip, instantly down at her side as she assumed a combat stance. "You will not harm him!" she roared.

Andron was worried. That was definitely not a good sign.

"You will have to kill me first before you lay a hand on him!"

He took a near imperceptibly small step back. He was beginning to understand. It was not simply a return of a kind gesture she was giving him. He had noticed the way she suddenly tensed up when she mentioned their wounds and how they tended them. He also knew of it being perfectly possible, and that things such as what he realized he may very well be looking at were not rare on exodite worlds, where humans and Eldar did live in peace. Surely she had come into physical contact with him as he healed her, something rare for an Eldar.

"That night you were both wounded. What happened?"

She relaxed from her stance, but stiffened up again slightly in the nervous manner he had noticed from before. "I told you, we medicated and bandaged our wounds."

"Is that all?" He asked in a tone that indicated that he most likely knew the answer.

She gasped.

He chuckled. The soldier behind him spoke for the first time. "We must leave; now."

"Come, we go to war." He nodded to the female who had risked her life for the human on the floor, and then cast him a sidelong glance as he turned to leave.

The sounds of battle had faded somewhat, and they were alone once again.