The 'Fall of Tyran' Exhibit, Tomb World of Solemnace, 999.M41 the next day

Velex Martanis, Lieutenant of the 17th Indigan Praefects Imperial Guardsmen Regiment

It was the smell that awoke Velex, having led the 'Devils' shift watch from just past midnight to the artificial dawn this place seemed to induce in the system's lighting. It was a pleasant smell, something that harkened back to her time before joining the Imperial Guard almost five years before, when she had served as a bodyguard and servant to the Nobles of Indiga.

There was something almost sweet in the air, and it worked to rouse her tired mind far more quickly than she thought was possible.

She was led as much by her nose as by her brain as she left the comms room, which had been converted to an officer's bunk, though thankfully she didn't have to go far. The queue of Guardsmen was an obvious indicator that something was going on, she could barely get the men to stand in line during inspections.

"Conscript Mattis, what is going on here?" Having spotted the Grovan Engineer Guardsman, his uniform making him easy to spot even amongst a throng of Guardsmen, Velex was determined to get answers.

"It's the strange psyker who accompanies The Saint. He conscripted several of the younger Guardsmen and promised to prepare something called 'breakfast', that seems to be something eaten at the same time as morning rations. We were, well the general opinion wasn't positive, but then he started cooking… The smell was enough for most of us to skip our rations this morning." The smell was certainly better than any ration pack Velex had come across, which wasn't exactly hard given most of them were corpse starch based, but she was still wary of the strange psyker that couldn't speak proper Gothic.

"Move aside, I will speak with this psyker about what trickery he is trying to pull here…" For a moment, Velex thought that the smell of the food would overcome her authority, as it was with great reluctance that several of the Guardsmen in front of her moved aside.

The source of the smell was coming from a strange tent-like structure, though given the range of colours and sheer size of the thing it was clearly not an Imperial issue. Even the nobles on Indiga wouldn't have been able to requisition such a thing for themselves while on duty in the Guard.

Two Indigan Guardsmen stood, seemingly on guard, at the entrance flap to the tent. Velex recognised both of them as relative Veterans, both having been part of the 17th's initial recruitment rather than the later drafts that bolstered their numbers every year.

"Borx, Galant, report." Borx was the larger of the two, his enjoyment of the 'finer' things in life meaning he had the nickname 'Scrape', as he always barely managed to pass the fitness tests she regularly ran them through.

"I know you said to keep an eye on the psyker Lieutenant, but he promised us first portions when he finished. And the Saint said it was okay…" To his credit Borx did look somewhat guilty, whereas his partner in crime merely held the tent flap back for her with his usually disarming grin.

"The Saint did say we were to send you straight in however, though how they knew you'd turn up…" The smaller, scrawnier of the two Guardsmen shrugged somewhat uncaringly at her questioning look, which Velex mused made some sense.

One of the first things they taught you in the Guard, the less you try to understand, the less likely you are going to get shot for it.

"Probably because any such gathering of men, around a structure that wasn't here when I finished my rounds last night, is going to attract our attention." The rough voice of Commissar Hawthorne, as he stalked up behind her in a standard Imperial Officer's uniform that he was forced to wear as he only had one Commissar's uniform, was surprisingly reassuring to Velex's mood.

At least she would have one person on her side when she went inside. Even as she moved towards the tent flap though, a now somewhat familiar voice of the Tech-Priest spoke from further inside the tent.

"Actually, Lord Potter states that he actually just assumed that the men you have watching the entrance to this section were under orders to inform you of his arrival immediately. There is at least a sixty nine percent chance that he is being truthful in his claim." There was no inflection in the Tech Priest's comment, but Velex got the feeling he wasn't entirely sure whether he believed the Psyker's 'revelation' either.

Still she thought, as she stepped into the tent, with the Tech-priest acting as a translator, The Saint should be able to provide his own opinion for a change.

"What the…" Velex stopped three steps into the tent, as the scale of what was going on inside hit her.

There were a dozen cooking stations lining one side of the tent, which would have already taken more space than the tent should have been able to fit based on what she had seen from the outside, each one with a Guardsman preparing or cooking unfamiliar foods under the direction of the psyker.

The psyker looked up and waved in Velex's direction before speaking in his unfamiliar tongue, the Tech-priest providing an almost instant translation, though his monotone delivery clearly was missing the inflections and tone of the psyker's word.

"Lieutenant, Commissar, you are just in time. Private Marix and the others are just about to try serving up their first portions of… I do not recognise those words, some kind of food dish. You are welcome to try them, Lord Potter says that he wouldn't like to get the Guardsmen outside in trouble if you don't approve." One of the Guardsmen moved from station to station as the psyker indicated he should, carrying a pair of mess tins that were rapidly filled with various strange types of food.

Two more Guardsmen followed in the first's wake, even as the first placed the mess tins on the table The Saint and the Tech-priest were sat at, any protest Velex was thinking of uttering dying as her stomach growled hungrily.

"If you try and poison us…" Commissar Hawthorne was made of slightly sterner stuff, but his threat didn't stop him slipping into the seat next to her as the Tech-priest laughed with clear amusement in his tone, The Saint choosing to reply when it became clear the Mechanicus member wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"If Lord Potter wanted to kill you Commander Hawthorne, I imagine he has far more subtle ways than poisoning you so abruptly. Ah, excellent. This reminds me of some of the foods you could get back in my time." There was such an array of colours, smells and tasty looking foods in her mess tin, Velex wasn't quite sure where to start.

There were what was clearly meat of some type, cut in thin slices that looked both juicy and crunchy at the same time, as well as a cylinder of meat that seemed to be a different type. Then there was the white/yellow mixture that the meat was resting on, while visually it didn't look all that appealing. Velex could smell the richness of whatever it was. Then there was a circle of something black, a strange red fruit she had never seen before and the fried fungus looking food.

"If you are that nervous Lieutenant, Lord Potter offers to have a serving first…" The Tech-priest almost sounded a little mournful as he spoke, and the sight of The Saint digging into his newly delivered portion with enthusiasm spurred Velex to make a decision. Her fork pierced the cylinder of meat, which caused it to leak a small stream of glistening liquid, and she raised it to take a bite out from…

The taste of juicy meat and a strange herb of some kind, far outstripped anything Velex had ever eaten before, made her mind go blank of all thoughts for a moment as she savoured the new delights she was encountering. It was only as her fork scraped the bottom of the mess tin that her thoughts cleared, realising she had finished the entire dish without noticing.

"And there is none of your warp trickery involved in this food psyker?" Hawthorne seemed to have coped with the new tastes better than she did, though even as he asked his question he was raising the second strip of meat to his lips.

To her surprise, the psyker didn't look offended at the question when it was relayed by the Tech-Priest, giving them a relaxed smile as he showed one of the Guardsmen how to work the yellow mixture in the cooking pan in front of them again.

"No magic, no tricks, this is just some of the food I prepared for my trip before I ended up here…" Another mystery, the origin of the psyker as uncertain as his powers, but as another mess tin full of food was brought forward by the serving Guardsmen Velex found she cared less and less.

Perhaps following The Saint to Cadia would have it's perks after all…

!"£$%^&*()_+

The Chariot of Retribution, In Orbit over Solemnace, 999.M41 Three days after 'The Saint's awakening'

Harry Potter, Master of Death

"As you can see Saint, Lord Potter, these are some of the main Macro-canon batteries I mentioned earlier, based on Mars Pattern but modified, longer barrels and upgraded targeting. Some Rogue Traders swear by laser batteries, but the ship's stealth and increased evasion capabilities risked engine redlines if all systems were active at once." While the nightmarish realities of his 'new home' were still tearing away in the back of Harry's mind, especially as the chaotic nature of the magic around him only worsened when he moved away from Solemnace, Harry had to admit that the Chariot of Retribution had impressed him so far.

While he had no real understanding of the scale, Harry had been told the ship was actually the amalgamation of six other ships that had been found as wrecks by the Inquisitorial party Octus had been a part of, about 40 years before his 'retirement' and 'recruitment' to Trazyn's collection. Harry knew that the sheer number of cyborg parts Octus had made determining his age difficult, but the casual way in which the Tech-priest referred to his 'short' post of managing the repair and amalgamation of these particular ships for two decades was slightly unnerving.

From what Harry had been able to gather so far, the ship was of about the same length as a standard Imperial Cruiser, with a much larger set of engines and a much thicker main body. Much of the increased body size was to allow for the massive docking hangar, whose entrance at the base of the ship was large enough for a trio of modified escort vessels, without compromising the ship's main weapons and other point defences.

Which, given they stood below a cannon-like mount that hung almost 10 metres in the air and whose barrel was at least 40 metres long, was the polite way of saying Harry was out of his depth technologically.

"Bah, give my clan a few months aboard this thing, we'll come up with something. I'll admit I'm impressed that you haven't wasted nearly as much space as the other Mechanicum idiots we had to deal with in the past, but you still rely far too much on your rituals and hocus pocus 'Omnissiah' worship for my liking." The new speaker was a relatively short stout individual, that reminded Harry somewhat of Professor Flitwick, if Flitwick had dressed as one of those Hairy Bikers that Harry had seen on TV a few times and was as well built as Hagrid.

Chief Ragni Ivarsson of the Dagni Clan was a Squat, which was a rather impolite way of referring to what Harry was mentally calling Space Dwarves in his head. He and the rest of his clan had been transported to the Chariot of Retribution by Trazyn still 'frozen' alongside the Land Train, Colossus and other equipment that Trazyn had been prepared to 'trade' him in place of the two Enslaver corpses and a series of favours that were generalised simply as 'to be negotiated'.

"Such an assumption about the technological advances of the Squats being superior to our work has been recognised even in the Mechanicus Conclaves and their teachings, though with the onslaught of Hive Fleet Behemoth there very few places where such technology is still produced… Please inform me however, before you move to any of the areas that I haven't shown you directly Chief Ragni, there are defences on this ship that are best left… undisturbed." There was no flash of red light from the Tech-priest's bionic eye, something Harry associated with the cyborg highlighting his attempts at humour, and suddenly the dark halls and gothic architecture had a very different feel to them.

"Don't worry about us wandering off around your ship, given you want to use that technological piece of lunacy you humans so love to transport us to Cadia, my clan will be staying as close to our weapons and gear as possible. Hopefully all the new Living Ancestors will be able to protect us from the Daemogvrik." The last word was something Harry didn't recognise, but Chief Ragni and every other Squat in hearing made protective hand gestures as the word, which was never a good sign when discussing the planned method of transportation.

"That is optimal, I will make it clear to Lieutenant Martanis later, just to stop any of her more 'enterprising' guardsmen deciding to go and liberate some tech. My crew will be on alert of course, but due to the circumstances of our vacation we will be stretched thin as it is." It wasn't the first time Octus had made reference to his reduced crew numbers, but given the ship was large enough that they had been walking for almost two hours and hadn't needed to backtrack other than returning to the main floor elevators, Harry couldn't help but feel that perhaps he was understating matters.

So far, Harry had seen maybe 300 living crew, not including those Servitors that seemed to proliferate everywhere, despite their appearance of being the very definition of horrific in his mind. A good portion of that number had been similarly dressed 'tech-priests' like Octus, and with the general levels of technology meant Harry could only assume that much of the ship's systems were automated.

"If needed, I am sure I can request additional… help from Trazyn, but only if it is the only way we can leave here. I am concerned enough with the balance of power between us as it is." Trazyn had in fact already offered such, offering men and even Astartes up to the bargaining table as if they were mere commodities to be bartered for.

Though for all the Commissar with the Guardsmen had ranted and railed about 'heinous aliens', Commissar Hawthorne had actually been one of the more vocal supporters of bartering additional support from the Necron. Something Harry would definitely be ruminating about later.

"No need, logic dictates that we can find crews for the guns somewhere on the way to Cadia, no need to provide more ammunition for something that could easily decide to turn hostile." That was a nice thought, but given the sheer scale of what had been modestly described as a 'Ship of the Line' cruiser, 600 odd Humans and a 1000 Squats weren't going to have an impact at the main battlefield by themselv…

Harry resisted the urge to slap himself around the back of the head, his inner Gryffindor had been taking control for a moment there and demanding he threw himself as deep into the fray as possible without thinking of the bigger picture.

"As much as I want to agree, I think we can all agree Trazyn has very little to gain if he decides to turn on us now. I will talk to him and see if we can get something of a strike force together, even a couple of these Astartes would prove to be a boon." Colonel Gerstahl nodded in agreement, though Chief Ragni was far less amicable.

"If by that you mean he has no need to go back on the deal he made when he traded my people like cattle? If I still had the clan's Book…" Harry could imagine the rest of the threat as the Squat seemed to metaphorically grasp for a series of words with sufficient Vitriol for what he thought of such matters.

"And yet, even from your own accounts, you and yours would have perished to these Ork creatures that were overrunning the expeditionary force you were leading. While Trazyn did not do right by you with his attempts to keep you, I think we have far greater enemies we can focus on right now. " Harry was basing his approach with the Squats off the lessons he had picked up, from the few scattered accounts of Earth's own bearded race Hermione had managed to find in her 'Hogwarts Library' portrait, over the last twenty four hours.

Hide nothing, speak plainly and ensure that any deal you make is agreed and honoured to the letter and spirit.

For a moment, Harry honestly thought it wouldn't matter what he said, before Ragni's furious expression broke into a deep rumbling chuckle to rival Hagrid's greatest hits.

"Such formal speech and Dawi wisdom from a human who barely has stubble on his chin? It is indeed an age of wonders we have awakened to!" The three other Dwarves accompanying them on their 'tour' burst out laughing as well, though Ragni didn't pause before clapping Harry on the shoulder companionably.

"You speak straight and have an idea about honour, so I suppose I can convince my clan to leave this Trazyn alone for now, in fact we should probably take pride in the fact he thinks our kind is so valuable that he took so many favours from you in the first place." It was clear the anger wasn't gone, even as the Squat said something in his own language that had the other three straighten up and quickly stop laughing.

"Agreed, in fact, that is what I have in mind for what to offer him in return for some additional support…"

And, some of the things he would ask the Necron if he still proved to be in a welcoming mood would be worth every cent of what he could offer in return.

!"£$%^&*()_+

The Vengeful Spirit Bridge, The Eye of Terror, 999.M41

Abaddon the Despoiler, Warmaster of Chaos

Something was wrong, though Abaddon couldn't place where such a feeling was coming from, even as the various Black Legion Space Marines that controlled the Vengeful Spirit towards the exit of The Eye of Terror moved around their stations with the experience of millennia to draw upon.

"Warmaster, it is as you suspected, the Imperial dogs have landed forces on Urthwart. Initial reports from our spies on the planet indicate less than two frigate packs and a trio of Light Cruisers, along with a dozen or so transport ships. We have already dispatched three raid fleets to encircle and overwhelm them, along with the use of our remaining Sorcerers to prevent the enemy from being able to send an astropathic message." There was no request for orders or attempts to curry favour amongst the Black Legion, such were the actions of weaklings and sycophants, which unfortunately made up a remarkable number of his warhost's Warlords and ship captains.

They could deny it all they wanted, but there were few who plotted against him seriously any more, even with the rumblings of the failures of the previous Black Crusades making the rounds. Such should have been expected amongst a faction known for its infighting, but instead they all plotted and set each other up to fail, which was honestly all the more irritating. It was... difficult to plan the destruction of the Imperium when you didn't know which of your forces was suddenly going to attack the other or have an 'unfortunate accident' in the field.

"Ready the Planet Killer, Urthwart will serve as the first of many worlds that will taste death in this Crusade, and the Planet Killer's fleet will prevent an evacuation or any foolish ideas about reinforcements." It was clear the order surprised more than one person on the Bridge, that he was jumping to such a clear cut and final solution so quickly, though it was only with the experience and senses of his enhanced body that Abaddon could pick out such small reactions.

But he was still receiving the feeling that something about Urthwart was dangerous, either to him directly or more subversively to his ambitions, and he didn't have the usual voice over his shoulder to convince him otherwise.

"Contact Typhon & Lucius the Eternal. Despite the auspicious start, it is time for us to remind these Imperial fools exactly why they should cower in terror and beg for mercy." Abaddon could have had the two contacted directly and given them their orders in person, but trying to micro-manage his armies as such would lead to disaster almost immediately.

Besides, the destruction of a world that was in the embrace of Nurgle's 'loving' attention would probably cause Nurgle's Herald to become 'difficult' if he learned of it. Best to keep his forces separated and satisfied until the time came to crush Cadia itself.

It took him a moment to realise that he wasn't going to be interrupted in his musings, the voice of Zaraphiston mercifully absent from his ear. The last 24 hours had been a surprisingly nice break from the Tzeentch Sorcerer's mixture of condescending advice and abstract portents of the future, as the man in question recovered under the 'tender' care of the Black Legion's best from his violent and debilitating seizure.

Despite originally wanting to tear the heart out of the person who had tried to kill his advisor, Abaddon was even now considering being more generous to the person who had reminded him something of what peace felt like.

Maybe a simple beheading would suffice. After all, he wouldn't want to make one who did him such a nice favour to suffer...

A/N: Small and steady steps of progress!

Now you have the Chariot of Retribution, not some hidden super ship that is going to be able to blast a Blackstone Fortress out of the sky, but a decent calibre ship of the line with some surprises to show in the future.

And more importantly, we have Harry's way of winning over the Guardsmen. Given some of my research into the Imperial food supply, a relatively basic English Breakfast would be the equivalent of an extravagant feast for the average Guardsmen. And even the most mistrustful of Guardsmen will start to waver.

I imagine people are questioning Trazyn's 'generosity', but it is important to remember two things. First, he isn't in a strong position despite the airs he puts on, given the Bell of St Gerstahl froze all of his personal legions into lockdown.

Secondly, the Enslaver corpse that Harry traded him is quite literally one of a kind. The only way Harry could provide him with a better offering would be if he could get three of them, so that Trazyn could replicate a Enslaver Gate event.

There are other reasons of course, but I don't want to ruin all the fun still to come :)

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Defias Out!