"General Mathis! A pleasure to meet you! May I call you Ignace?"

"The pleasure is mutual, Planetary Governor. You can call me whatever you like." Mathis said. He sat down on one of the ornate wooden chairs across from the governor's desk. The governor sat, staring a Mathis, his pudgy fingers drumming against the desk.

"Well, then Ignace, congratulations at beating the orks at Maklis. Millions know your name because of this. You are a true hero! By the Emperor, I think you are more heroic than the average Astartes!"

Mathis calmly nodded, "Thank you sir."

"No need to be formal, Ignace. Call my Rathorn. That's my first name. Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, a glass of sacra would be nice," he paused, "Rathorn."

The Governor chuckled and poured Maklis a glass and handed it to him. "Comes from Tanith, this stuff. Half way across the galaxy. Nothing but the finest for a true hero of the Imperium."

Mathis took a sip and smiled. "It is wonderful, sir. You have excellent taste."

"Call me Rathorn, I insist."

"Ok, Rathorn. I have a question."

"All right, was is it?"

"Why did you wait two full years to contact the Imperium for assistance against the ork outbreak."

The governor's bright attitude quickly became dampened. He frowned at Mathis. "Ignace, I had every intention of calling for the Imperial guard once the situation became out of control for the PDF."

"Except you didn't. One of your adjutants had to behind your back."

"I felt like the situation was still in control."

"After the loss of twelve hive cities?"

"Yes. The PDF on this continent are the best of the best, comparable to your guardsmen. They can handle the orks themselves. Not that I'm not grateful for your help Ignace. Emperor knows I am. I simply didn't want to tax the systems around here from their protection as well."

Mathis slowly nodded. "Ok, that seems reasonable. However, you should have contacted us after the first city fell. I could have sent a few thousand men and had this situation finished in a few weeks. Now this is going to be a prolonged campaign. I have two hundred thousand men on the planet surface now. Now that I understand the full extent of this infestation, I'm requesting between ten to twelve million more. That's going to be taxing. Not to mention, this campaign is going to last a few months at least, most likely a few years. Next time this happens, report it immediately. The Imperium will decide how much help you'll receive."

"Well, it's my planet and I will run it as I see fit."

"Yes, it's your planet. But because of you, two billion people have died and three billion more may have if your adjutant hadn't called for reinforcements. Also, if your planet falls, billions more will starve and guardsmen will go unequipped. If the orks had captured this planet, they would have the raw materials to wage a full Waaagh! on this sector and dozens of other planets may have been caught in the crossfire. Yes, this is your planet, but it is also the Imperium's."

"Get out of my office. Now," The Governor sneered.

"Gladly." Mathis slammed his empty glass against the desk and stormed out of the office. That prick would pay.

The hooded figures gathered around the eight-pointed star. There were nine gathered, each standing at a point. The ninth stood in the center and said, "He is here. The one chosen by destiny to lead the armies of the true gods against the false emperor!"

"He is here," chanted the others.

"It was foretold by the great Tra'til'nuk that he would come, ripe with the fruit of from which chaos feeds. He demands audience with the chosen one. We must obey."

"We must obey," chanted the others as they faded into the shadows.

Savlon stood outside of the governor's office building in Maklis hive. Apparently, the governor had an office in the main spire of every hive on the planet. It made sense, but it seemed . . . excessive.

"Well," he muttered to himself, "royalty and nobles never do anything on a small scale."

"Screw ups are no exception either," Mathis said, walking out of the front door.

Savlon matched pace with him as they walked across the elevated walkways of the upper hive. "I take it your meeting didn't go well."

"No, not at all," Mathis replied as he waved at a few civilians that recognized him. "He is a pompous ass that thinks he shits gold. We're lucky his adjutants have common sense. He sure needs some."

"I agree, but there is nothing we can do about that now. What's the plan?"

"Plan? I have no plan! I thought this would be easy. One, maybe two hives to recapture. But this, this is a whole new playing field. Seventeen hive cities! We'll need millions of troops, not thousands! We have to wait for reinforcements and those won't arrive for at least six months. We can't do anything!"

"I don't think that's totally true, sir."

"Oh? What do you suggest then?"

"Let's retake the other two hive cities on this strip of land sir. That would take a few months and it would give us a good launching point once the reinforcements arrive. Plus, it will give us an excuse to train the PDF in our tactics, giving us a few million extra troops as well."

Mathis stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to Savlon and said, "Captain, I'm afraid I'm going to have to order you to stop being smarter than me. Seriously, wow. I didn't think of that. You should be general."

"I'm not cut out for it."

"Sure you are. You just came up with a plan better than my idea of waiting for six months with our thumbs up our collective asses. I should make you my second in command."

"No, sir, I can't accept that."

"Yes, you will. Because that's an order, my friend. You will be my second in command. In the event of my absence, you will take the title of field-general and for all intents and purposes be the leader of the Kratanos 8th division. If I am confirmed dead or missing for more than six months, you will be made the permanent leader of the Kratanos 8th and your official title will be General."

"Sir, I'm speechless. . ."

"Good, I'm sick of talking anyway. Let's go eat."

Savlon staggered to his barracks after several hours of eating and drinking with the general. He opened the door to his bunk and was startled when two pairs of hands grabbed him from the shadows. He was thrown against the wall and the room became pitch black as the assailants closed the door. They flicked on the lights and Savlon saw that his attacker was none other than captain Bruk. He was approaching Savlon with his two cronies.

He grabbed Savlons collar and punched him in the gut. "You little ass kissing farm boy! You upstart maggot! Second in command my ass, you're nothing but a worm." Bruk punched Savlon across the face. Too drunk to react, Savlon just spat out a tooth and a mouthful of blood.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Savvy boy. Not feeling to good?" He slammed Savlon's head against the walls several times and let him go. Savlon fell to the floor, not reacting at all. Bruk and his friends started to kick the downed captain savagely, calling him slurs as they did so. That's when they heard the laspistol charge.

"Turn around slowly, hand up." All three of the men did as they were told. A mean looking man wearing the insignia of Savlon's company was holding the laspistol aimed at Bruk's head. "Leave this room now and maybe I won't tell the General about this."

The three men ran from the room. Jarvix holstered his pistol and grabbed Savlon's hand and tried to pick him up. He carried him to the infirmary. When the medic there asked him what happened, Jarvix replied, "He got drunk and fell down a flight of stairs. Shit happens."

Jarvix walked back to his own room and collapsed on the bed there. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around him and he felt a kiss on the back of his neck.

"Hey Katly, what are you still doing up?"

"You said that you would be back five minutes ago two hours ago. I was worried."

"I was just looking after a friend. Turns out he needed my help."

"Looks like I have a good man with you, Olif. Looks like I picked right."

"Go to sleep, Kat. We'll talk in the morning." He took out a lho stick and lit it, smoking, thinking.

Mathis wasn't quite as drunk and was walking quite steadily when several cloaked figures emerged from the shadows. He reached for his stormbolter and said, "Hello, what do you want?"

One of them spoke gibberish and all the figures drew silver sticks. They jabbed at Mathis with the sticks. He felt needles poking his skin and he found that he was paralyzed. The figures lifted him and carried him away. He was disoriented and confused. The drugs made his thoughts scatter and his mind was a jumbled mess. He tried to close his eyes, but found that even his eyelids wouldn't move.

A short time later, he found himself tied to a chair. He was now able to move his fingers and close his eyes. He sat for maybe an hour when he was finally in full control of his actions. That's when the hooded figures brought a woman, maybe twenty something in front of him. They shackled her with chains on the ground and left the room. Mathis heard the click of the lock from the great steel door.

"Don't worry, ma'am, I'll get us out of here." He said to her. Tears were flowing from her cheeks. He started to struggle with the knots tying him to the chair when he heard a quiet buzzing sound. The buzzing sound grew louder and he swore he could hear some chanting.

"What's your name?" He tried to distract himself and the woman.

"Tilly. Tilly Stranson."

"Don't worry, Tilly, I have a plan."

The buzzing was louder now and Mathis clearly heard the chanting now. The air became cold and Mathis had a headache. He had felt this before, long ago. . .

Tilly started moaning in pain. The buzzing was now frighteningly loud and the chanting was a frenzied shouting. His head was splitting with pain. Tilly screamed.

Her neck snapped. Bones in here body broke and her flesh tore. In seconds, she was a mass of torn skin, destroyed muscle, and broken bones. The mass quivered and reformed, taking a grotesque shape. Was resulted was beyond words.

In Tilly's place, out of the shackles, stood a daemon. It was three meters tall, the skin red like blood. In its hand was a long sword. It had a smooth tail with a sharp point and horns protruded from its head. Its legs were backwards jointed like a dog and it possessed a mouth of incredibly vast amounts of sharp teeth.

I'm dead. I am going to die. Thought Mathis.

The thing tilted its head at Mathis and spoke without moving its mouth. "My name is Tra'til'nuk. You never met me, but you know my work. I killed Captain Blakeo."

"You! You were the one! You killed my captain! You bastard, I will destroy you!"

"Now, now, no need to get violent. I just want to talk."

"Why should I talk to you?"

"Because I can give you what you want."

"Yeah, and what is that?"

"Fame."