The Celestial Orrery, Tomb World of Thanatos, 999.M41

Trazyn the Infinite, Necron Overlord and 'Archaeovist' of the Solemnace Galleries

Stepping into the whirling sphere of living metal and holographic lights that made up the Celestial Orrery, shifting past the numerous worlds that made up the South Eastern Region of the Milky Way, something was pulling at the back of Trazyn's mind.

Ducking under the glittering green world of the Prandium system, a world that even Trazyn was forced to admit had a certain natural beauty to it and therefore had been worth 'sampling' for his galleries, the feeling that he had missed something continued to scratch at his circuits.

Still, whatever it was could wait until after he could assuage his desire for knowledge, to understand whether The Traveler was on the right path. It was easy to see the slowly rising threat that had obviously led to the awakening of The Saint, an infection pulsing beneath the weave of worlds that showed the galaxy in a perfect reflection to its current state.

For that was what the Orrery was, it was a mirror of the Milky Way Galaxy both in a representational sense and a physical one. There was a reason Trazyn was avoiding the various star systems and astral bodies of the Galaxy with such determination, as the Keepers of the Orrery shifted its focus to allow him to view The Eye of Terror, even his presence in 'dark space' was shifting thousands of tonnes of space debris and asteroids in a way that didn't fit any law of physics.

Touching a planet could wipe out an entire population, or knock the entire system into a death spiral as the planet shifted orbit, and to touch a sun…

"You seem troubled Overlord, such is logical given the potential implications of a slip here. However, we will ensure you do not disturb any major elements of the Orrery with your presence. Accidentally, or otherwise." The voice of Lychguard Garnuphet, the leader of the forty strong 'bodyguard' detachment Trazyn had been assigned while on Thanatos, was a none-too-subtle reminder that he was very much considered a potential threat by the Oruscarran Necrontyr.

The Oruscar Lychguard were, by all accounts, some of the most accomplished Necron killers in the Galaxy. Given the sheer number of Necron Lords who desired the acquisition of the Orrery for their own purposes, both before and after the conclusion of the War in Heaven, Thanatos has been invaded by Necron forces far more than it has by misguided or even unaware alien explorers.

And while they weren't the true leaders of the Oruscar dynasty like Prince Abunsur, Lychguard retained almost all of their intelligence and tactical mindset through the fires of bio-transference, which combined with their complete lack of empathy to forge an incredible bodyguard or frontline commanders of the lesser Necron warriors.

"Such concern about what I might get up to, it is almost like your master doesn't trust me…" It was only after a second or two of silence, the worlds of the galaxy still swirling around him and drawing ever closer to his requested destination, that Trazyn realised he wasn't going to get a response to his sarcastic comment.

It surprised him, before the small feeling of emptiness translated into anger and annoyance at the world around him, but Trazyn supposed he had become a little too used to hanging around humans over the last month or so. While they were dirty primitives, they certainly were far better at witty banter, though the Traveler and the Saint were more adept than the others.

Something that he would be thinking on later, as Trazyn had never exactly gotten behind the idea of a 'resurgent Necron Empire' that so many of the Necron 'Royalty' believed was their divine right, though voicing as such would have made him even more of an outcast than he already was. And he wanted to spend his time focussed on his collection, not surviving the attention of his former comrades that wanted to assimilate his forces into their own.

"Still, one problem at a time…" Trazyn knew he could have spent days inside the Orrery, deciphering the eddies and patterns of the Galaxy to determine the taint's origin.

But instead, as the planet of Cadia swept into view with the Eye of Terror flooding the backdrop, the empyrean manifestation one of the few areas of the galaxy that the Orrery couldn't affect or control, Trazyn immediately affirmed that The Saint had been correct in his assumption. He'd also been narrow-minded in assuming that the source of the figurative 'rot' on the galaxy was focussed on a single planet. Instead, there were more than a dozen planetary systems entangled in the events to come, each tinged with the dark red that was prevalent in the backdrop of the Orrery projection. They all were linked to Cadia though, so whatever was going to occur, Trazyn would be most effective there…

Trazyn's mind came to a sudden stop, as he realised exactly how strange his previous thought had been. The vagaries of war amongst the various factions had never been of interest to him before, other than in his efforts to acquire exhibit material, because it wasn't the victor that mattered to him, only the stories.

In fact, the last time he remembered caring enough about his role in the 'Story' was long ago, before the green flames of the C'Tan bio-furnaces…

"Lord Trazyn, you have a communication from Solemnace, Cryptek Sennet is very insistent that he talk to you as soon as you are able." Garnuphet interrupted his musings with the same deadpan tone that he had used throughout their interactions, though if Sennet was both awakened and willing to contact him that was a sign there was something serious going on indeed.

"Prepare a meeting room, I will be there shortly." Whatever Sennet needed him for, Trazyn would deal with that before he moved to Cadia, though he might first return to Solemnace for some 'reinforcements' from his Legions in case he needed to get involved directly.

Shifting and ducking his way from the Orrery, Trazyn made his way out of the Orrery, catching a rather large Asteroid with his shoulder accidentally and causing it to shatter into thousands of shards. A dozen Necrons in the robes of Crypteks were already at work to mitigate the disturbances made in the Orrery's apparatus by his presence, shifting things to ensure there would be no major repercussions on a galactic scale.

The Lychguard had made an obvious path for him to follow, though he evidently had passed whatever test they were expecting him to fail, as their hyperphase swords were now sheathed rather than held at the ready.

"This way, Lord Trazyn." It wasn't Garnuphet that was waiting for him that put Trazyn ill-at-ease, though the towering Lychguard was certainly a match for him if they came to blows, but the staff wielding figure stood next to him.

"Orikan, I wonder whether it is your divinations that brought you here, or just the spies that you have amongst the Oruscar?" Orikan the Diviner, a title that Trazyn mocked mentally even as he stared down at one of his more active opponents in the ever-changing world of Necron powerplay, didn't react with vitriol or anger to the obvious needling of his 'prophetic' abilities as Trazyn expected.

"Lord Trazyn, how delightful to see you again so soon after Carnac. I trust, seeing as we are in the hallowed halls of Thanatos, you won't have any 'presents' waiting for me like last time." There was a knowing look in Orikan's eyes as he scratched his shoulder, where the 'wound' caused by the Genestealer Trazyn 'introduced' him to had managed to graze him.

The fact it hadn't been healed naturally made Trazyn think that Orikan kept it on purpose to mock him, and he wouldn't be greatly surprised if Orikan had actually known about the Genestealer ambush in advance. Despite his almost constant derision of the Cryptek's abilities to predict the future, Trazyn acknowledged Orikan probably had at least some talent in the subject, there was no way he would have survived annoying so many Necron Nobles with his attitude otherwise.

"What are you doing here Cryptek? Given our past history, I doubt the Oruscarrans are happy to have both of us in their world at the same time." Some of their disagreements in the past had ended with considerable collateral damage after all, even before the bio-transference.

"I think you should first meet with your own Cryptek, Lord Trazyn. Once you are appraised of the situation, then we can discuss your plans to visit Cadia and how I can assist you." Trazyn didn't even try to argue, once Orikan had decided to be mysterious about what he had foreseen he became as bad as the damned Aeldari in enjoying himself in frustrating everyone.

Moving over to the side room Garnuphet indicated, and noting that both of his onlookers followed him into the room, Trazyn decided after a moment's consideration that he didn't care. The communication would already be watched by a dozen of Oruscar's finest, to try and determine if there was a way they could benefit from the information they gleaned, and Orikan claimed to fully understand what was going on already.

"My Lord, apologies for interrupting your work and being unavailable over the last few cycles, something went wrong with my stasis systems and returned me only this morning." Sennet was already projected into the room as Trazyn entered, the far less ornately armoured Cryptek bowing his head first to Trazyn and then to Orikan as he entered, something Trazyn noted as a potential issue for later.

"It wasn't just you Sennet, one of the artefacts I obtained from the humans malfunctioned and instigated a mass-recall of my forces. The artefact has now been removed from Solemnace, though is available in case it is needed elsewhere." Half-truths and bluffs, Trazyn didn't know if the Traveler could instigate such a shutdown again even if he wanted to, but it certainly wouldn't hurt for everyone to think he had such a weapon available.

"Still, such an apology doesn't warrant such a demanding call Sennet, nor would it bring The Diviner from his hallowed halls. Speak quickly, there is another matter of urgency I will be attending to shortly, and I do not want to be delayed." He could have been kinder with his words, but given Sennet's slight surprise before he continued speaking, the Cryptek had clearly been expecting far worse.

"Of course My Lord. To put it simply, the two Tyranid splinter fleets from the Hive Fleet you designated 'Behemoth', that were hibernating in the dark space between systems near Solemnace have awoken, their scout ships are already on the move… They are headed to Solemnace at some considerable rate, our outermost Naval fortresses have already begun engaging them." Trazyn nodded in understanding, even as his mind worked through the calculations of how long ago the Tyranids must have awoken in order to be on his defences already.

No doubt it was near the time of The Traveller awakening and them dealing with the Tyran exhibit remnants, clearly one of the larger beasts had sent out some kind of psychic distress call that had roused these forces from their slumber.

"That is indeed of great importance, thank you for your haste in relaying this to me Sennet." His thanks, as fleeting and off the cuff as it was, took Sennet so off-guard that the Cryptek was seemingly stunned, so Trazyn continued speaking rather than waste time waiting for a response.

"I will be returning to Solemnace within the next cycle, though I will not be staying for long as there is this other matter I need to attend to. I shall awaken the Lychguard and assign them to leading the defence, given the level of our defences it is a simple matter to stop them before they reach Solemnace itself." It was something his scarabs had been working on ever since the news of the Tyranid fleet first reached Trazyn, and he had forgotten about his order to fortify the outermost reaches of Solemnace's planetary system for almost 300 years after Behemoth had been destroyed.

Which meant his scarabs and other worker units had erected enough space based forces to repel a force easily five times the size of the one they were facing now. In fact, it was probably best that the two splinter fleets attacked now, so that he could remove a threat to himself and the surrounding Imperial worlds in a defensive rather than offensive…

The thought itching at his circuits suddenly came to the forefront of his mind, as he thought about Behemoth and the impact it had upon the Galaxy, though it was concern rather than satisfaction that filled him as he gave his final orders to Sennet. If the remnants of Behemoth were responding to the 'distress call', then he had a suspicion that there were other forces that would be coming from less expected areas.

"Prepare the fleets, I want scout forces projected in every direction including above and below the galactic plane. Trazyn out." There was a self-satisfied chuckle from Orikan as he cut the call, a sign that Trazyn had correctly interpreted his presence as a warning, no doubt his scouts would find more Hive Ships splintering from Hive Fleet Leviathan approaching from above and below the Galactic plane.

"I wouldn't laugh yet conjurer of tricks. If what I suspect is correct, even you won't be laughing afterwards." Orikan lost a little of his self-satisfied stature at the insult, though Trazyn was already stalking out of the room and back towards Orrery.

"Return the coordinates to the area around Solemnace, now!" His harsh command clearly ruffled some of the Necron's present, the Orrery curators clearly not happy to be manipulating the Orrery again when their work to return his disturbances to match 'The Grand Plan' weren't finished.

"Do it, Lord Trazyn has been granted access to the Orrery for at least twelve more cycles." Garnuphet's words prompted far more urgency than Trazyn's, but he would rage about the lack of respect such insolence showed later.

"Stop, there!" Clearly Orikan had worked out at least some of what Trazyn had divined, as it was he who called for the manipulation of the Orrery to be halted as the planetary systems near to Solemnace came into view, many of the worlds glowing in various forms of light to indicate their occupying populations.

Looking at the former garden paradise world of Prandium, which had been devoured by the Tyranids of Hive Fleet Behemoth almost nine Terran centuries beforehand, Trazyn could only take a small amount of satisfaction at Orikan's shocked expression.

"The Orrery is wrong…" It was a revelation that would shake the very foundations of Necron society, as many a Necron Lord had used the Orrery and it's secrets to divine the optimal paths for their resurgent kingdoms.

And if the Orrery had missed the incursions of the Tyranids, something he would be collating with the worlds attacked by later Hive Fleets…

What else had it missed?

!"£$%^&*()_+

The Bridge of The Chariot of Retribution, The Warp, 999.M41 21 days after the 'The Saint's Awakening'

Octus Nihlus, Tech-priest of Mars and former Inquisitorial Agent

"Another Macro-cannon has been modified, meaning we have nearly half of the stern batteries fully modified, praise be to the Omnissiah." The report brought a muttering of 'Hail the Omnissiah' from the Skitarii and other Mechanicum aligned men and women on the bridge, which Octus silenced with a wave before indicating the tech-priest in charge of the ship's weapons to continue.

"Given the potential increase in fire rate, as well as the reduction in manpower requirements, it is estimated that the combat effectiveness of The Chariot is close to what it would be if fully manned. We have been forced to pause further attempts to improve our weaponry, due to the lack of suitable raw materials, particularly due to the repairs carried out on the By His Grace. As you instructed Magos, all members of the crew have been informed that they can raise suggestions to improve the efficiency and running of the ship. The number of suggestions have been… statistically surprising." It was like someone had lifted some kind of dark spell, as the news of Lord Potter's improvements spread like wildfire throughout the gathered crew and guardsmen units, and suddenly it was easy to see flaws and issues with the ship and the equipment aboard it.

Octus had seen it himself, as he poured over the schematics of his ship for the first time in what seemed like decades, areas where he had for no logical reason decided to stick to a 'traditional' layout of an Imperial ship. Hangers that took up space on the broadsides of his vessel, despite the fact most of the aircraft using them could take off vertically. Space assigned for food and water storage that would be capable of feeding a standard Cruiser for a year, which had at least 10 times the crew his vessel did.

Not to mention the space 'wasted' providing for the gun-crews, which Lord Potter had proved weren't needed and in fact wasted lives that could serve the Emperor elsewhere. While gun crews were afforded the absolute minimum of accommodation, which translated into rooms of stacked beds you could barely walk between, when translated into space for more than 100,000 souls it was enough that Octus was already creating plans to gut and refit the innards of the ship the first chance he got.

That wasn't even accounting for the savings on sanitation, waste processing, corpse resource reclamation…

Octus cut his thoughts short as he realised the others were all quiet, obviously waiting for him to say something.

"Get the adepts aboard to create a list of the ideas, at this point I do not want a single idea ignored or punished regardless of potential cost or so-called 'heretical leanings'." It was clear from the various micro-expressions he saw that he was very close to crossing the metaphorical 'line in the sand' with his last comment, but Octus was prepared to stamp his authority firmly on the matter if required.

Working for the Inquisition had shown that the rules regarding 'heretical technology' were more akin to 'guidelines to be ignored as the situation merits', and he had no doubt that whoever was behind this grand conspiracy to technologically hamstring the Imperium had clearly been using people's fears of such to carry out their work.

"As you say Magos. The adepts are already working to create working schematics of the new Macro-cannon schematic, though I have instructed them to wait until we have a chance to re-work the ship in dry-dock, as there are significant…" The weapons officer cut off as one of the Novis guard strode down from the raised dais, where his mistress was guiding all of them through the warp to their destination, wherever that may end up being.

"We are approaching the location of the artefact linked to Lord Potter faster than My Lady anticipated, you have approximately three minutes before we exit the Warp." The tone was akin to commenting on the weather, which did nothing to alleviate the sudden urgency of the tasks now ahead of them.

"To your stations, full combat readiness, I will alert the crew. Signal the By His Grace to wait, escort ship to follow us through." They'd lost contact with the more damaged escort less than a week into their journey, and it had been inconceivable to risk leaving their guided path to look for them.

Such was the danger of Warp travel.

Octus didn't bother with fickle considerations as composure, robotic legs sending him flying into his command chair with a single superhuman leap, activating the ships communications even as he scrolled through the various systems of the ship.

"All hands, brace for emergency Materium transfer. General alert, prepare for combat." His stealth systems wouldn't disguise their arrival and would take precious minutes to ready themselves as the warp engines bled off, so preparation for combat operations was a good idea as a bare…

The transition to real space was remarkably smooth, compared to jerky and often violent jumps he'd experienced in the past, but as the wreckage of at least a dozen ships appeared on the sensor array around and in front of him Octus had bigger concerns right now.

"All Engines, full stop! Pilot, change course to allow for drift, target this gap." Their void shields sparked to life even as the ship slammed into the remnants of an Imperial escort vessel, the impact sending several members of the bridge crew to the floor as the general alert alarm began to resonate throughout the ship.

Even as the juddering clash of the frigate's hull with The Chariot caused Octus to mentally wince at the potential damage, it acted as something of a 'brake' to reduce their momentum. Given the gargantuan forms of at least three Battleship class warships and more than a dozen cruiser hulks that were arrayed in the area directly in front of them, it was actually good luck to have hit the frigate in the first place.

"Sensors, relay all data to me. Navigator, please provide details as to where we are, if you can." The non-psychic method of Astro-navigation, determining a location based on the visible stars/planets, would be limited while they were trapped amongst this battlefield clutter, so Octus would need to rely on Lady Tethys despite her having just finished the exhausting vigil of their passage.

"Magos, receiving a vox-signal, issues with strength and determining location due to external factors." Even as the escort ship appeared on the navigational readings, behind and to the right of The Chariot, Octus was plotting the route and noting several scattered readings of engine trails that were both Imperial and Xenos in origin.

"Broadcast, watch for attackers, signs indicate heavy pirate activity or scavengers. 87% chance of hostile behaviour if encountered." Some of the engine trails were recent, as in minutes or hours old rather than days or weeks, and that meant the ships in question were almost definitely within scanner range.

"Transmitting now Magos! Detecting fragments of encrypted chatter from multiple ships among the debris!" Even as the bridge crew began the controlled chaos of orders and system readying that comes with the expectation of combat, Octus continued to assess the information being fed to his system by the various officers, the bridge speakers suddenly emitting the sound of static and interference before a voice became discernable.

"This is Sergeant Ifriqi of the Astral Knights, calling … Imperial forces that are ...transmission …orce us! Under attack by ... and heretical traitors, and our ship is badly damaged. We have boarded the Battleship … and are protecting … By The Emperor, we will not go quietly into the night!" The Vox was scrambled and broken in places, but the idea of Imperial forces being lost to heretics was anametha to Octus and any loyal servant of the Emperor.

"Broadcast on all frequencies our position and transmit the litanies of benediction. Prepare The Omnissiah's Will and The Last Word for immediate launch and ready aircraft for boarding operations. Draw on your faith, trust in the Omnissiah, and the enemy will break under our strength." This wasn't Octus' preferred method of combat, he had built a stealth ship for a reason.

But The Chariot of Retribution was already restricted in its maneuverability in this ship graveyard, so the chances of there being any ship of their size or larger were infinitesimal. And while smaller ships would be able to get close enough to launch boarding parties, given the amount of debris some boarding craft would get through, anyone stupid enough to try and board would find exactly why Octus had insisted that the Guardsmen should stay away from the exterior rooms on the upper floors...

The Chariot of Retribution, Reznor System, 999.M41 12 days after 'The Saint's awakening'

Harry Potter, Master of Death

"Focus on your breathing Freyja, ignore your surroundings and keep your concentration on maintaining your mental defences." Given the alarm sirens and the general hubbub of a ship preparing for combat going on around them, Harry knew that it was hardly a conducive environment for the first practical lesson in Occlumency, but it wasn't exactly like they had a choice.

Harry had been 'politely' told that using magic while they were in the Warp was to be avoided at all costs, and after using his mage sight to see the barest glimpse of what waited outside the flickering Gellar Field he had very much agreed. So, Harry had spent his time with Freyja working on meditation exercises and how she should be erecting her mental defences.

The girl had taken to it with a zealous fervour, and as Harry reached out with a wordless legimens, he found himself looking at a mindscape that was a cross between a cathedral and a fortress, walls mounted with golden but indistinct statues surrounding a massive building that Harry vaguely recognised as one of the Cathedrals painted in the main shrine on The Chariot of Retribution.

It was flimsy, several sections of the wall clearly flickering and fading while the Cathedral shifted shape and size moment to moment as Freyja's mind attempted to focus. But for three weeks of work, it was a good foundation.

"Lord Potter, we have boarding ships approaching. We need to get non-combatants to the secure areas." Standing a little jerkily, as the power armour Trazyn had given him was still a little uncomfortable, Harry nodded in understanding at Private Mattis' comment.

The Grovan Engineer was one of the 'Honour Guard' assigned to him, both as bodyguards and test subjects for any new arms and armour he and the Squats came up with. Like most of the Guardsmen rescued from Solemnace, Mattis was now wearing the carapace armour of the Cadian 129th, taken from the dead Kasrkin who had succumbed to their injuries or the ravages of the demon-plague.

The appropriation of gear hadn't even phased the Cadians, adding another stark difference in how the dead are dealt with in this universe to Harry's slowly growing concerns.

"Of course, follow Private Mattis and the other Guardsmen Freyja, and keep focussing on those defences." While Harry wasn't exactly jumping at the idea of being involved in war again, he wasn't one to cower in a fortified crew cabin while others fought to protect him, and he damn sure wasn't going to be reduced to some glorified figurehead promoting new technologies.

But Freyja wouldn't be capable of using her magic safely, even in a non-combat situation, for several months at least. Surprisingly, given how stubborn Freyja had been about following him everywhere on the ship, she didn't seem particularly upset at the idea of sitting out a fight like this.

"But Lord Potter, our orders are to protect you…" Mattis trailed off as the far larger 'shadow' that had been following them around stepped forward.

"I think I will suffice for Lord Potter's protection…" Brother Gallant of the Astral Claws chapter spoke with the same tone an adult might use when pointing out the obvious to a small child, not intentionally patronising, but making it clear he deemed the Guardsmen surplus to requirements.

When Cassiel had approached Harry about assigning one of the Astartes to his protection, the Blood Angel had clearly been cautious about potentially offending anyone by assigning Gallant to him. The stigmata of the Astral Claws, now known as the Red Corsairs after the Chapter's failed attempt to secede from the Imperium and descent into Chaos worship,, had made Harry's decision relatively easy. Despite the elitist attitude, particularly regarding the Imperial Guardsmen on the ship, Gallant had followed all instructions without question and actually was rather conversational when forced to talk.

"I would prefer you protect my apprentice, then I can truly focus on dealing with any trouble that comes our way…" Mattis seemed torn for a moment, before moving to attention and saluting, leading Freyja away towards the nearest elevators as Lieutenant Velex came over the ship's comms.

"All units, boarding craft have breached hangars starboard quarter, location 2.3.O3-41. Any available forces to respond!" There was a pause for a moment before the message started to repeat, Gallant gesturing in the behind them ahead in a manner clearly intended to provide Harry with cover using his own body.

Despite moving at a steady run, boosted to easily the pace of a normal human sprinting with the boost from his armour, it was clear to Harry that Gallant could have powered off at any moment and left him in the dust.

As they cleared another bulkhead, there were several flashes ahead of them and suddenly Harry was slamming into the wall of the corridor, Gallant's power armoured bulk shielding him from the mixture of lasgun and auto gun fire.

"Another fething Astartes! Fetch the big guns lads. As if the Xenos weren't enough of a sign the Emperor has deserted us." Even as Gallant shifted to ready his boltgun, Harry grabbed him with his free hand and shook his head.

Given the concern about spacing themselves, a rocket propelled explosive wasn't an ideal tool. Besides, he wanted at least some of them alive for questioning, and he doubted Gallant was very good at 'alive and relatively intact' prisoners.

It didn't seem a very Space Marine thing.

"Stay here, wait for my signal." Disillusionment charm activating with a couple of wand motions, Harry moved around Gallant and into the hall, finding more than a dozen men and half a dozen women dressed in clothes and armour that reminded Harry of some of the post-apocalyptic movie trailers he'd seen on Hermione's TV.

Many of the raiders had little more than metal plates strapped to their chest in place of actual fitted armour, and while more than half of them were armed with guns of various makes and sizes, the others were equipped with what Harry could only imagine was ship maintenance equipment like hammers and cutting lances. It wasn't exactly a deductive leap therefore, to conclude that these men and women were raiding out of desperation rather than anything more sinister.

"The Astartes is clearly waiting for back-up, how in the Emperor's name are we supposed to take out more than one of them, let alone this entire ship?" The one who spoke was one of the men armed with a large two handed hammer and dressed in almost serviceable Imperial Navy armour, his dark skin helping him gain a semblance of cover in the flickering lighting of the deck.

"Would you prefer to go back and fight those Xenos bastards Flint? And that Astartes is literally the first living person we've seen on the ship, clearly they are short of men and supplies themselves!" Slipping through them until he was stood next to the hangar door control, Harry could see three more raiders bringing up a heavy bolter, a much larger and more deadly version of the boltguns that the Space Marines carried.

In the hangar itself, there were at least fifty other people disembarking from a transport craft that barely fit lengthways in the hangar bay, though many of these were even less well armed and armoured than the Raiders in front of Harry. Many of them also showed clear signs of illness and/or malnutrition, which was another sign of desperate living that Harry planned on taking advantage of.

The three raiders carrying the Heavy Bolter had just cleared the hangar bulkhead, Gallant popping his head out a few times to keep the raiders attention without any prompting, when Harry moved into action. His offhand pressed the series of buttons on the control panel next to him that would close the bulkhead and seal it from the hangar interior controls, something he was told was standard Imperial doctrine and was at best a double edged sword.

It had taken more time to understand the symbology used and what they related to more than anything technological that Harry had been lacking.

"What the…" Three flicks of his wand later and half a dozen of the raiders were stunned and collapsing to the floor, only the clear leader of the group dodging out of the way as some sixth sense warned him of danger.

"Drop your weapons!" Harry had deliberately targeted the raiders with ranged weapons, another flurry of silent spells blasting the heavy bolter trio from their feet as his disillusionment wore off and revealed his position.

"Fething psyker!" That didn't stop two of the nearest Raiders from charging towards him, one armed with a metal pipe and the other wielding a modified welding torch.

Not that either weapon did them much good when they were suddenly transfigured into boa constrictors, the snakes moving with unnatural swiftness to entangle their prey.

"I said… stand down!" There was a certain strength, for a lack of a better word, in the spoken word that powerful mages could utilise without casting a formal spell or charm and merely using their natural magic aura.

Dumbledore used it to inspire people to confide and believe in him, Voldemort had used it to inspire fear and devotion in equal measure, each a master of the art that had decades of practice honing and controlling their magic. Harry was far less clinical in his application, the force of his magic spreading out and acting almost as a wide-spread Imperio spell, with the single instruction causing nearly all the surviving raiders to freeze in place.

Ron had described being under the effect of Harry's aura as similar to when they had first met Aragog and the other Acromantula, the primal part of the human mind registering that Death was nearby and that movement or action would merely draw it's gaze all the faster.

"What, what are you doing you idiots, kill him! Kill him!" The leader of the raiders seemed to lose what little decorum he had, aiming the lasgun in his grip in Harry's direction, only to spin around as Gallant sprinted from cover and thundered across the twenty or so metres separating them.

Harry couldn't help but wince as one of the raiders who had been forcibly 'stood down' was thrown against a bulkhead to make way for the Astartes, the raider leader getting a single shot off from his lasgun that slammed into a nearby bulkhead as Gallant slammed an armoured fist into his chest.

*Crunch* *Splat*

"Now… Flint was it? Why don't you tell me about these Xenos you mentioned and tell those in the hangar to surrender, then Brother Gallant won't need to disarm anyone else…" Harry knew it was not a suitable time for a pun, as blood from both the bandit leaders severed shoulder joint and the arm audibly splashed onto the decking, but unfortunately his mind had gone blank and he didn't want to risk losing any momentum.

He'd have to work on his battle banter, obviously he'd gotten rusty...

A/N: It took me a long time to finish this chapter, sorry about that. But there were some very key plot points in this chapter that are going to be pivotal to the story, and I literally was deciding where I'm going as I wrote it.

Hopefully it's polished enough that you can't see that, apologies if I missed anything.

Still, lots to unpack. There's an update to where Trazyn is and what he's up to, as well as a revelation of another Necron who is actually more than a 'I hate all life' terminator, Orikan the Diviner.

Now, according to the lore, Orikan can actually 'walk' back in his timeline to arrange events to match his predictions. This is one of my pet peeves with 40k lore, as there are quite literally dozens of characters that can supposedly see the future, yet they all keep getting surprised and outmanoeuvred with something approaching ironic levels of regularity.

So, I'm changing things. Orikan can send messages back in time to himself, but there is a limit based on the complexity and length of the message. Hence his presence, but also his lack of knowing about the truth Trazyn would reveal until it happened. Why does he need to be there? Well, at this point even he doesn't know.

Should be a fun next scene to write either way.

Also, for those that aren't particularly lore focused, Prandium was pretty much the jewel of Ultramarine controlled space for almost 10,000 years, an Elysian style garden world that the Ultramarines considered almost as sacred as their home world.

That is, until the Tyranids turned up, and naturally they viewed such a world as a lovely buffet despite the Ultramarine's earnest 'objections'. So the fact that it is anything more than a dead hunk of rock is easy enough for someone relatively perceptive to notice… Eventually.

Reznor next. Supposedly the ship graveyard of the Horus Heresy outside of places like Terra, it's a morass of shipwrecks and leaking warp reactors that supposedly contains entire fleets of various Imperial ships from both sides.

This is named in BFG2 as a resource field worth upwards of 10 hive worlds, as well as hinting to Tyranid remnants and a Necron Tomb. Given the nature of the debris field, as well as the very limited ways in which Imperial ships can travel/communicate, all it takes is for a ship to lose its navigator and/or astropathic choir and even the largest, most powerful ships would be rendered useless…

I wonder why we are here?

Let me hear your ideas people!

Defias out!