The Saint of Hisperia

by RecommendedName

This story tells the tale of an orphaned Xeno-Heretic's attempt to survive and defeat a Tyranid splinter fleet invading her Hive World. Befriending a semi-sentient Necron Artefact that can drag her through time, our hero must learn how to cooperate with a variety of forces, and prove her usefulness to members of the Black Templars, and the Inquisition to succeed.

9. The Saint of Hisperia - Chapter 7

"Oh, fuck, you're back." Redmane called out as Mable collapsed whining, the glass case containing the Maelstrom Grenade digging under armpit. Redmane, leaning down and picking up the alarm-clock Mable had carried and taking more interest in the timer than the grenade with reality-destructive capabilities, would breathlessly call out to Sindarion before taking the glass case that Mable offered her. "Sindy! Mable's back!"

"How… long was I gone?"

"A whole three minutes, girly. What was it on your end?"

"Like… two years."

"Whoa. What was that like, living two years' worth of time in three minutes?"

"Like living two years' worth of time in three minutes." Mable groaned, standing up and twisting on her hips to be on her back. Reminded of exactly where she was as the scent of foulness stained her nostrils through the rebreather, Mable stared up at the woman, remembering what she had wanted to ask three-minute-years ago. "Did you have a son?"

"Uh, yeah? Who do you think was resetting the clock?"

"You?" Mable asked, the woman having said that this was the most time sensitive artefact to acquire. Looking up at the face that contorted to better hide her guilt, Mable continued to question the disengaging inquisitor. "Wait, you had your four-year-old son reset the timer that could have summoned the… warp, into the world?"

"Girl, you don't even know what that means, or what that would even do." The inquisitor stated as Sindarion returned, moving to help Mable up from the floor. Glancing to the grenade that the woman was removing from the glass case, Sindarion broadcasted his thoughts over the vox in his helmet.

"Should that not be contained?"

"Trust me, the glass isn't doing anything to help that." The woman stated… and then looked at the one struggling to stand on her own. "You didn't get the brick too, did you?"

"The… brick?" Mable repeated, unable to believe the woman had just asked her such a stupid question.

"Ah, never mind. It was only the banisher of the betrayer. No big deal." The woman easily dismissed, freeing the grenade from the glass she carelessly disregarded, before tossing the detonatable end-of-reality grenade casually in the air, pretending to fumble the catch much to Mable's and Sindarion's relief when it became clear she was just playing around. "Alright, let's go find the nanomachines."

"W-wait. I'm… really tired."

"That's fine, rest in the Thunderhawk."

"Thunderhawk?" Mable repeated the woman who was already moving, being lifted and carried out of the room by the Angel of Death that swept her off her feet. "Thanks, Brother Sindarion… but this isn't going to be another combat drop, is it?"

"So long as Spire Krenith's lower structure stands, no. We're planning to put you on, or near the top of it, so that you can work your way to the bottom back in a more peaceful time. The main problem you'll have is finding out the date, but Redmane has come up with an idea that may work."

"What?" Mable asked, getting a laugh from the woman.

"What do you think about astrologers?"

Given a vacuum-sealable satchel, a las-pistol, and the two data-pads that contained the planet's geometric data, as well as the written pass-phrase to disable the machine gladiators, Mable's last gift given to her on Spire Krenith would be a floating skull that had a telescope attached to his eye. Looking at the lens that stared at her, the telescope retracting and extending every few seconds, Mable was talked at by the Inquisitor that was yelling over the engine of the Thunderhawk abandoning her.

"Okay! So, Spire Krenith is the only spire in the entire hive, except for the governor's mansion, that can see the actual stars of the galaxy! This bad boy will look at the stars, and give you an approximate date you're in! Remember, you need to get within… three months, I want to say, of when I disappeared! After that, you'll descend to the lower levels, called… Water Recycler Nine-Two. That's going to be during… Em-Forty-One, Nine, Nine… four?"

"Nine-four-three." Mable stated, remembering the packaging on the ration pack that the homeless PDF trooper had given her, and then adjusted for his wrong expiration date estimate.

"Yeah, that. Look at you! You hardly need me!"

"I don't know what month that was, though."

"Uh… fuck, there was a civil war all about the stupid calendar system and everything. Sindarion, what calendar does this planet use?"

"I don't know, but that war is still ongoing." The space marine stated much to the woman's surprise… and then read out something in his helmet. "It says now 'Nine, six-zero-nine, zero-nine-two, Em-four-two in my combat auspex.'

"Okay… so… then, it would be like… Nine… what? One-five-eight to like, three-hundred, then nine-four-three, em-four-one? I've always been bad at the year fraction. You'd think that someone in the Ordo Chronos cared to learn the math, but dividing by eight-point-five always fucked me up when it was easier to just plug in the time to a math-servitor."

"Everything you just said, I absolutely hate." Mable stated, not getting any useful information and hating the fact that this woman relied on human carcasses supported by machines to do her math for her. "Whatever, I'll… just rewind further if I miss the date."

"Ha!" The woman loudly yelled as she retreated towards the Thunderhawk… and then nervously fidgeted as she spoke more to herself than her. "Y-yeah, you'll do… uh, great. Just… you know, don't fuck it up!"

"Wait. Why are you nervous?" Sindarion asked… and as Mable stared at the space marine, and then back to the inquisitor, Mable would watch as the agitated woman denied the accusation.

"What?! Me? Nervous? I'm not nervous, you're-"

"Your biometrics are not lying. What are you not telling us?"

"Uh…" Redmane slowly started… and then spoke what was likely the truth. "So, uh… well, we may be in a paradox, or time-bubble, so I didn't want to say anything that might make you nervous!"

"Speak." Sindarion demanded… and as the woman let out an exaggerated sigh, she would call out the terrifying truth.

"Okay, well, let's just say the countermeasure for the nanomachines wasn't so much as destructive as a brick, but more like… the releasing of said world-ending-cataclysm-swarm!"

"You… you did what?!" Mable asked, a new threat being created before her very eyes.

"Y-yeah, it's kind of why I didn't want to say anything, but, I mean, if you think about it – if it was going to fall into the wrong hands, it might as well activate here, destroying itself and the people who would use it to harm, right?"

Watching as Sindarion moved to the inquisitor, lifting her up off the ground, and then preparing to snap her neck, Mable screamed at the marine to stop as Redmane looked incredibly disinterested about the chastisement she received.

"You set it to release, and destroy all of Hisperia?! There are billions of people here! This is a hive world, and a key defense world in this sector! You set the Exterminatus device to detonate if it could not be safely contained?!"

"Your goddamned right I did!" The Inquisitor shouted defiantly in the helmet that conveyed nothing but the Emperor's wrath incarnate. Laughing in the Angel of Death's face, the woman would show her resolve, and scream her pride out to the space marine. "Kryptman did much worse than me, and I'd rather have the device go off here, dooming the billions, than the trillions if someone used it on Terra! If I thought it was going into the Arch-Enemy's hands, I would gladly detonate it myself! Besides, can you really call yourself an inquisitor if you don't put planets in danger every now and then?!"

"Sindarion, let her go! We still need her!" Mable told the space marine… who dropped the woman the two and a half meters from his helmet to the rockcrete. Landing poorly, but soon getting up, the woman quickly called out the rest of the problem she had conjured in the past.

"So anyways, I wanted to keep quiet about it – but I think that black wall of nothing you saw in the time-acceleration thingy was if you don't manage to stop the device from going off… since none of us will exist here anymore. Well, the space marines will probably be fine, since they aren't from this planet, but, like… you, Mable, definitely won't be here, so… you know, like, good luck and all that!"

"That… that doesn't make sense!" Mable stated, knowing that if she hadn't been born yet, then the bomb should have gone off and detonated already – making this entire conversation not exist. "That should already be the case, right? I didn't exist back then to stop it!"

"Yeah, but how did you get into the facility in the first place to be able to rewind time?!" The woman asked her… and as Mable thought for a moment, she would begin to understand that something beyond her existence was at play. "The door was already open, despite you never having went there before! Time-bubble! All of our lives, Hisperia as we know it, is existing because somehow, the time around the planet knows you're going to go back in time to ensure that it exists! Without your intervention, we're all fucking dead in about… well, until you fail, I guess! Either way, it's not going to be my problem anymore, so… good luck, Mable! Seriously, I'm rooting for you!"

Watching the woman begin to retreat to the Thunderhawk, Mable would slowly reflect on the actions she was needing to accomplish… but as she stared into space, Mable would see the black armored Astarte shift to stand in front of her.

"Sindarion, I'll be… fine. You're okay to leave."

"I'm going with you." The Astarte declared… and looking to the Thunderhawk, would signal it to rise. Wanting to reject the angel who she didn't even know she could transport, Mable would blink, and then come to understand that this request was more than just him showing his humanity. Seeing monstrous Tyranids slowly approach from the edge of the rooftop of the spire, realizing that these giant monsters had scaled the walls to get to them, Mable would try to summon the low-hum of the universe as Sindarion made an oath within this moment. "Or I will die ensuring you succeed in your mission. Now, begin, Mable. I will buy you as much time as I can from these Genestealers."

Mable found it incredibly hard to concentrate as the ten 'Genestealers' raced to kill her and Sindarion. Shooting the first with his bolt-gun, felling it in a burst before turning onto the next that had reached the rooftop, Sindarion would make Mable flinch and lose her concentration every time his gun fired. Hearing the Angel of Death drop his bolter in exchange for his bolt-pistol as he refused to reload his primary weapon, Mable winced as the grind of teeth mashed as Sindarion's chainsword roared to life.

As the Genestealers swung their mighty claws, they were cut down by the surprisingly nimble warrior. Thinking the Angel of Death going to be overwhelmed as more of the beasts made it up to the roof, Mable dropped to the rooftop, as the Thunderhawk's engines, having deafened them while departing, suddenly soared over them, strafing the other Genestealers with devastating assault cannons before flying towards the governor's mansion. Mable, gaining concentration as it became a three-versus-one, watched as Sindarion danced away with the grace of the legendary ballerinas as he dodged arm-long nails and flesh-ripping teeth. Fastening her grip over the unseen fabric of time and space as the battle moved closer to her, and, able to hold onto the reality-warping fabric, Mable reached into her satchel to free her pistol. Striking a Genestealer about to rip open Sindarion's jetpack-laden back, the wincing creature reeling back as a las-bolt struck it in the face, and allowing the Angel of Death a chance to disengage to her, Mable inhaled, then let out her order.

"Now!" Mable screamed, the Astartes rushing towards her, parrying a strike of one genestealer, dropping his bolt-pistol, and then grabbing hold of her extended hand. Crushing her arm for a moment, Mable began to reverse time… but as she opened her eyes within the darkness, she saw in horror as the two genestealers were both frozen as well, connected to the space marine holding onto her.

Fuck.

Thinking for a moment, but only able to interact with the low-hum of the universe in this frozen position… Mable would hesitate for a moment… before deciding there was only one thing to do.

She went as far back as she could. That way, even if these things killed her and Sindarion, they wouldn't be able to do anything to humans on the planet. Feeling a grating annoyance as she reversed as far back as she could, before realizing… that they were going to be falling if there wasn't going to be a tower here, Mable hoped that the Angel of Death was quick on his mechanical wings, and wouldn't immediately let go of her. Intaking air she was fairly certain she wasn't even breathing, Mable began releasing her hold on the fabric, rushing her hand to the ceramite gauntlet that surrounded her forearm in a frozen grip.

Then, as air displaced, and a jolt shocked the three other creatures, gravity would throw them to the earth below. Finding it incredibly difficult to breathe as they fell, Mable felt extreme heat as she was carried, her skin immediately breaking into a sweat as the Genestealers plummeted, unable to latch onto the marine that activated his jetpack and shot them across the sky.

Then pulled into a protective vice, Mable would be carried across the planet… until at last, they landed harshly into a crack on the jagged, rocky ground.

"Fuck." Mable whispered painfully, sweating and panting as she was carried into the shade of the rocks. Already kilometers away from the Genestealers due to their height before taking off, Mable began to search for the high-whir of reality, and after a few minutes of staring at its stupid fabric, she would find what she sought nearly instantly – the environment of the burning planet helping focus her sense of reality-distorting powers apparently. "Sindarion, grab me."

Sindarion did as ordered, and, immediately finding herself within the fabric of existence, Mable moved them much farther from their temporal position… but unable to detect anything human-shaped in their surroundings, Mable would be forced to rely on the jetpack of the space marine to get them back to their starting location. Needing to get a time estimate, and thus use the servitor that was currently waiting to be activated in her satchel, Mable would send them forward, and then stop, the jolting transition bringing the space marine to a knee as she breathed easier… in a much more developed atmosphere.

"Woo! That was terrifying." Mable coughed out with some joy at their shared survival… before looking at the scratched helmet of the space marine that held a flickering lens. "I think you, uh… damaged your hat, Brother Sindarion.

"It has seen worse. When are we?" The Angel of Death spoke without his vox-caster, still easily heard by Mable's xeno-enhanced ears.

"A fine question, but I don't think we'll have to worry about the Genestealers anymore." Mable happily commented, digging through her satchel and finding the skull that continued to extend and retract its telescope. "Activate."

Beginning to shift, move around, and then fly, the servitor would immediately broadcast its corpse-voice to her.

"My orders?"

"Find out what year it is. Give me a working estimate, based off the stars around us."

"Calculating." The servitor stated… and then shifted its gaze vertically towards the sky.

After an awkward minute of both of them staring at the skull, Sindarion eventually spoke up, seeming to be curious about their temporal location.

"How far back… did you originally send us?"

"Uh… dawn of time, essentially." Mable stated, laughing at the idea. "Millions of years, probably."

"Millions…" The man whispered, the scale being hard to believe – even for her. Staying silent for a time, the space marine would eventually shift, and then speak bluntly. "I'm surprised you were able to draw breath. My helmet was warning me that the atmosphere was toxic, even to my lungs."

"Good." Mable muttered to herself… before looking to the likely confused Astarte. "I meant… because then the Genestealers would die quicker."

"Yes. That… is good, I suppose. So long as they aren't smart enough to burrow, or… signal their fleet."

Scoffing at that, but… realizing her dismissal may have come too soon, Mable would feel a growing anxiousness, until she spoke at the one who filled her with an even greater nervousness. "What… what do you mean, exactly? They don't signal through… like, vox-casters, so… how would they do that?"

"Psychically. Genestealers are a tendril's forward scouts, connected to their malicious hive-mind. They create a shadow in the warp, that their hive fleet hones in on, until it catches up to them."

"O-oh… so… I may have just called the entire Tyranid hive-fleet to… to this world?" Mable clarified, realizing just how fucked they were.

"No… I severely doubt that. It takes… to what my crusade logic engine has stated, hundreds of genestealers, and perhaps thousands of cultists, to draw the attention of a tendril, let alone their entire fleet. But, if any Tyranids existed within our galaxy prior to the advent of humanity, then… we will both be looking at a massively different future soon."

"I… I really hope that they aren't here, then."

"They shouldn't be."

"But-" Mable began to ask, but would cut herself off before truly starting, as the servitor gave them an estimate.

"Em, Two."

"Two… two what?"

"Two. A more accurate reading will take further time, and a more powerful telescope. Awaken me at your next convenience." The servitor stated… and as she realized she was about forty-millennia off from what she had intended, Mable would just nod her head… and look to the currently universe's youngest space marine.

"If only we could go to Terra, and warn the Emperor of all the horrors we're dealing with, huh?"

"If only." The Astarte scoffed… and then offered his hand, not even trying to get up. "Next time."

"Yeah… next time." Mable smiled… knowing that after they saved Hisperia, she wouldn't be doing much traveling when the inquisition came to make good on her execution. Refocusing herself on the high-whir of reality, Mable… would soon find her center… and feel a terrible sadness wash over her as she began to search for their way to Spire Krenith.

Despite being carried several kilometers away during their escape from the Genestealers, they were still technically inside of hive city's future borders. As such, they could use their data-pads to keep track of their rough geo-distance that had been programmed into the object that, surprisingly, did not have a skull on it. Wondering why this simple computer and tracker didn't require a skull, whereas the arm-mounted clock did, Mable would grow further annoyed after each and every one of their jumps forward both physically and temporally.

Sindarion, educating her on her misunderstanding about how the years were tracked by the Imperium by the condescending space marine, Mable had been informed that 'Em' was just the sound for the letter that stood for their millennium, the Astartes finding humor is her ignorance. Leaving 'M-Two' and then stopping by M-Two-Zero to no change in their immediately environment, Mable would bring them just shy of ten-thousand years before they had originally met.

Seeing a settlement in the heart of what would later be Hisperia's greatest hive, Mable would have it be suggested to her by Sindarion that they may be staring at the foundations of the city, and if they were going to infiltrate into Spire Krenith's basement level, now would be the time to get into position before the city grew any larger within their next jump forward. Unsure if that was the case, as she was fairly certain the ground level would change drastically over the next ten-thousand years due to construction efforts, Mable would not openly refuse the suggestion, so long as the they were still able to move forward.

Jetpacking into the settlement, Mable and Sindarion landed at the location marked by Redmane's data-pad. Looking at a massive foundation of stone, but nothing else, Mable slowly shifted her gaze around… imagining the grand spire that would tower for hundreds of meters into the sky from here.

"Ho there!" They were shouted at, and as Mable turned towards the figure, she would see Sindarion instinctively draw his chainsword and prepare himself for combat. Staying his blade as it became clear that the voice belonged to a single adult man riding a silent… machine that was hovering off the ground, Mable would feel great confusion by the stranger who raised his hands at the showing of the weapon. "Hail, Astarte, and his cyborg companion! You speak Imperial Gothic?"

"W-we do!" Mable cried out as Sindarion slowly brought his sword into a readied, but lowered stance, rather than looking as if he was about to assault the unarmed man. "Apologies, sir, my lord Sindarion was recently injured!"

"Quit lying." Sindarion muttered, but did not vox-cast as the man approached… peering at them in afternoon day.

"I had thought I saw a flier, but to think it was one of the Emperor's Astartes… tell me sir, are you an… Iron Warrior? One of Perturabo's boys? I don't recognize your crest, and I believe they are the only legion that hasn't visited Hisperia."

"You… speak of the Primarchs?" Sindarion all but bellowed, lowering his weapon to his side as the man nodded.

"I do. Most of them have traveled through Hisperia this past century, but I haven't seen any of them myself, personally. Just their warriors, who are recruiting soldiers and worlds for that civil war of theirs." The man stated, and as Mable watched the reaction of the warrior who only readjusted his stance, even she would be somewhat startled by the clear suspicious behavior that this man only took casual interest in. "In fact, some of the Emperor's Children came here not too long ago, swept up most of the civilians, talking of conscription this, and mandates that. Looked quite frantic, if you ask me."

"The Emperor's Children came here?" Sindarion clarified, beginning to raise his weapon once more, and turn his gaze to their surroundings.

"Oh, yep. Stalled construction of the Emperor's wonders by moving the entire worker populace. I'm fairly certain I'm the only one left from the original architects now… well, until they send more people here. You know that Emperor of ours! Quite the busy body, some say!" The man laughed casually… as if he had a personal connection with the god of mankind. Wanting to call the man a heretic immediately, Mable instead glanced to the space marine that seemed… shocked, by this news. Clicking his vox on and off as the man continued, as if trying to summon word but being unable to, Sindarion eventually lowered his blade entirely at the words he heard. "You know, I don't like to brag, but I saw him myself not too long ago! Back when he was touring his hard-won empire, and made his favorite son, Horus I think his name was called, 'Warmaster.' Oh, what a celebration we all had, as he chose to visit us, and plot our city's grounds."

"The… Emperor walked this earth?"

"Ha! Well of course. Moon, too. He said it was the best view he'd ever laid eyes on… excluding Terra, that was! Ha, ha, ha!" The man boasted… and then, let out a sigh. "Oh well. May I ask what you all are doing here? The nearest population center is… I want to say three-hundred kilometers east of here, where those blue-boys, Ultramarines I think they were called, are keeping people safe from those Eldar raiders."

"Eldar raiders?" Mable asked, and… somehow, managed to confuse the man.

"My word, have you two… crash landed here? Surely, you know of the Eldar!"

"Yes. We were tasked with locating a ruin of theirs."

"Oh, that big… what do you call it? Ziggurat? That's around ninety kilometers north-east of here… so you look like you've got a bit of walk, friends."

"That's fine, we'll… find a ride." Mable stated… and as the man looked down at the machine that was hovering, she would quickly interrupt the man's potential worry. "N-not from you, obviously."

"Obviously… but if you are needing quick transportation for Astartes, you'll likely want to stop by the abandoned munition depot. The Emperor's Children checked it out prior to leaving the planet, but… there should still be some supplies left there. You got a nav-reader?" The stranger asked, and as he shifted, Mable looked to her hand the man was beginning to take interest in.

"I've… got a data-pad." Mable quietly stated as she revealed the device she had used to get them to what would, in the future, be Spire Krenith… and as she showed off the device, the man would squint his eyes, and laugh.

"That children's toy? Ha!" The man stated, shifting forward and reaching for the data-pad that Mable now offered. Clicking on the small buttons, the man would take his own… much fancier data-pad out of his hover-bike's saddlebag, and insert a small plastic chip into its side. Waiting for an awkward minute, Mable would blink as her device's screen changed, and… revealed a much more defined image on the screen of her data-pad. "That should do it for you. It should be good up to a two-hundred-kilometer range of here, so that should get you to the ruin as well."

"T-thank you. Seriously, thank you. This will save us so much time." Mable happily cheered, getting an unflinching nod from the man at her show of gratitude.

"No worries! I'm always keen to help the Astartes. They take such good care of us, and after conquering the galaxy, protecting us from those murderous aliens… well, I'm just excited to give back, you know?" The man offered… and as he smiled so… genuinely at her, he would turn to the stunned Black Templar that hadn't said a word in over two minutes. "So, big guy? You thought about what you're going to do, now that the Great Crusade is over?"

"Do? What do you mean?" The Angel of Death asked… and as the man looked puzzled for a moment, he would speak of something… truly foreign to both of them.

"As in, retirement? You lot won't be needed, save to become militia, or lead the planetary defense forces, right? I hear that some Astartes on Ultramar are already settling down for farmstead, ranching, politicking, or joining the bureaucracy, and Magnus's children, the… Fifteenth Legion I believe? Thousand Sons, as they're best known – I hear are making the galaxy's greatest wine on Prospero. Have you thought about what you're going to do, when you wrap up your duty?"

"No." The grave word of the Angel of Death was broadcasted… and as it heavily weighed down on the stranger, Mable would stare at the unarmed, unmodified human, approaching the Angel who casually placed a hand on his scratched, partially broken vambrace.

"Well, think about it son. Once the Emperor reins his Warmaster in, I'm sure this galaxy will become a much more peaceful place." The man… so unaware of the reality of their people's fate, said with genuineness that made even Mable's heart hurt. Saying nothing else, mounting onto what was apparently an ancient hover-bike and beginning to fly off towards the west, the man… a literal stranger who hadn't even left them a name to remember him by, would well-wish them as he rode off into the great plains of Hisperia. "Good fortune to you both!"

"You… as well." Mable half-heartedly muttered to the man… who…

She was so jealous of, she realized as she turned to the Astarte… who took a knee before her, and spoke with a terrible shiver in his voice through his vox.

"I want to leave this place."

They left immediately then, vanishing and moving ten-thousand-years forward. Needing to check her timing, Mable would surprise many a bystander as they, in their eyes, just appeared at the base of the spire via teleportation. Pulling out her servitor as Sindarion shook himself into action, yelling at those who were coming to investigate and pray to the Angel of Death in the much more usual reverence compared to the previous stranger's treatment, Mable would blink as she realized she nailed the time, the servitor speaking as it didn't even bother to read the stars, but instead register information from the servitor locked into the information kiosk at the base of Spire Krenith.

"Descend, Brother Sindarion! We must be off!" Mable shouted, running into the packed spire that was only increasing in the number of spectators. Begged for his benevolence by the masses, the Black Templar began moving, pushing, and clearing a path to the patrolling arbiters that had come to break up the unsanctioned gathering, the pair hesitating as she rushed by them. Clearly recognizing that something was inhuman about her, but also seeing how she was chasing after the Angel that was but an arm's distance away from her, these two arbiters of the law quickly turned their attention away from her as they released the energy of their stun batons, and prepared to two-versus-several-hundred unarmed and currently respectful citizens of the empire.

Descending into a service tunnel that was very similar to the one in Spire Lorthanx, Mable led the charge, using her naturally generated light to illuminate their surroundings. Looking at the data-pad that had been 'updated,' Mable would zoom into the simple marking, and spend hours searching for the hidden vault of Redmane. Heading down into the water recyclers, scaring the local mutant population that scampered away from them as the Astarte's shadow hovered over them, Mable would find the written number on a small door on what had to be lowest level of his hab-spire.

Having Sindarion open the bulkhead with his great big muscles, the Astarte not seeming the same after the conversation with the local man ten-thousand-years in the past, Mable began to hear an immediate mechanical clicking as she stepped into the darkened chamber. Soon seeing two creatures made of red-lights and metal begin to stir and shift to a standing position, the pair's metal-reinforced flesh standing up with weapons that buzzed with electricity. Mable, realizing these were the two gladiators she had been told about, would quickly go through her satchel and bring out the passcode as she was demanded of.

"Identify yourselves, or be terminated."

"Uh… Ahem. 'Fabius Bile, I've come to defile.'" Mable read off… and as she waited for a moment… the red-lights not changing as she illuminated the hulking forms of the 'gladiators' that had far too many arms and weapons to be sporting mechanical warriors. Blinking as there was no change, Mable heard the Astarte behind her question her in confusion.

"That wasn't what she said the first time. Why did you misread it?"

"What? That's what it says right here, though. 'Fabius Bile, I've come to defile.'"

"Identify yourselves, or be terminated. This is your last warning."

"Just a second." Mable hummed, moving back to the door, and demanding of the space marine. "Here, you read it."

"Well… you are reading it correctly." Sindarion muttered as he shifted to stare at the written words through his one working lens.

"Maybe it's because I'm not a space marine? Say it through your vox-caster."

"Ahem." Sindarion cleared his throat, and then spoke clearly. "Fabius Bile. I have come to defile."

The machines did not deactivate. Instead, a screaming portal was created as a sigil manifested on the floor of the basement. Seeing what had to be the physical rift between reality and hell in that confusing moment, Mable would be greatly troubled as a bald-headed space marine stepped out, metal needles, serums, and liquids moving on metal arms connected to his power-armor's backpack. Clad in purple ceramite and a coat of what appeared to be stitched human skin, Mable felt a great unease at the appearance of the hell-marine, at first thinking she had been betrayed as the man called out with augmented vocal cords.

"Inquisitor Redmane, you have finally come to take me up on that offer? I cannot wait to…" The strange entity spoke easily with a beguiling grace… and then fell silent as he blinked at her… and the Black Templar that was standing behind her. "What the hell are you supposed to be? Some crossbreed with a Necron?"

"Uh." Mable started… and then didn't get to finish as the gladiators stood up to their full height, and then turned to the intruder that had opened a rift to hell.

"You have chosen termination. Pray, intruders."

"Termination? I am the terminator! The primo-" Fabius Bile began to protest, mocking the corpses barely controlling the wrath of the machines that descended upon him – kicking, punching, clubbing and pushing the man into the rift. Chasing after the space marine that had been far too casual in his speech as the rift closed behind them, the gladiators would just… vanish, from reality. Mable, moving aside as the Black Templar cautiously entered the room, studied the fading sigil for half a moment, and then rammed his chainsword into it – creating sparks as he activated the many toothed blade and tore up the rockcrete floor.

Eventually entering the room herself, and then finding a meter long cannister made of iron and glass in the back of the unlit chamber, Mable peered at what appeared to be a swarm of moving black bugs within it. Looking for the releasing mechanism or some kind of trap that Redmane had promised would release the planet-killing swarm, Mable slowly looked up to a dangling brick that was poised above the doomsday weapon, suspended by a small rope.

Unsure if she was dealing with a proper inquisitor, or if the woman was tainted in the head with some kind of disease, Mable watched in contemplative silence as the Black Templar wordlessly picked up the cannister in one hand, placed it onto his back that it seemed to magnetically cling to, and then gave a grim commentary.

"Mable… I really want to leave. Man was not meant to travel time."

"I… could not agree more." Mable muttered, and then patted the marine on his armored thigh. "Do you want to come with me to the Eldar temple?"

There was a very long pause of consideration, the vox-caster would pick up the heavy-hearted sigh of the space marine.

"I probably should, but I don't believe I have ever felt so demoralized before."

"Come on." Mable patted the space marine, who seemed to cheer up at her offer. "Now that we know the Emperor was on Hisperia for a moment, maybe we can catch a glimpse of him before he leaves! Wouldn't you like that?"

"I'd… I'd like that very much."

"Me too." Mable stated… knowing that it was going to be unlikely, but at the very least, she could get them to the space marine depot before the 'Emperor's Children' even showed up to loot it. Having seen the clear recognition and hesitation Sindarion had reacted with at the spoken name of other Astartes, Mable believed if they were enemies of the Imperium, the least she could do was steal all of their cool stuff before they set off to the Eldar ruin.

Smiling as they went, deciding that thinking things through, or figuring out any of the nonsense her life had become was too much of an ordeal, Mable silently hoped that Mister Orb had done the right thing in reviving her.