Deathmark Seshedes was not a complicated soul.

Regaining his soul had not made much difference in his habits, but had made all the difference in how he regarded them. As a necron, he had been quiet and only semi-sentient, following the path to death in the most efficient way possible. After regaining his memories, Seshedes was still quiet and still followed the most efficient path, but he also enjoyed people watching. He was constantly observing those around him and trying to understand their motivations and intentions.

That had led directly to him taking an enemy Deathmark alive. He had noted the incredibly poor choice of shot and intuited that it was deliberate… as a semi-sentient, before his resouling, Seshedes could remember much of what had happened to him as a necron. And he particularly remembered when he'd been awoken early and had loyalty protocols forced on him before being dispatched to assassinate Imotekh the Stormlord. Seshedes still wondered what that had been meant to accomplish… even if he'd managed it, what good would it have done unless they had sabotaged his recall?

But be that as it may, Seshedes understood what it meant to struggle beneath a loyalty protocol, forced to do something you fundamentally did not want to do. He'd hated the sensation, as he was forced to target the great general of the Sautekh, someone he'd held in highest esteem. He'd had had no option to resist the order, but a subtle way to do so would be to take a dangerous shot, exactly as this Deathmark had.

That had led him to silently enlist the assistance of Captain Yentark and ask him to take the Deathmark alive. He had assisted in that, deliberately flushing out his opponent and into the waiting arms of the melee warriors. It hadn't been easy at all, as they had played a deadly game in their dimension oubliettes, but Seshedes had prevailed and the greatest weakness of Deathmarks was that if they were brought into melee combat, they were virtually helpless. It had been over quickly after that.

Following his request, Yentark had badly damaged the Deathmark but not killed him before dragging him to the Crypteks, who placed him in restraints for later. Later eventually came and Seshedes was able to be introduced to Deathmark Udjehyt. He was not very talkative and Seshedes thought it was due to his semi-sentient status, but he was able to communicate some things.

"I am Khatekh. I belonged to the Phaeron. I failed my sacred trust," Udjehyt said, his voice smooth and mechanical, as unexpressive as they mostly were. But the glyphs he made signalled his grief and his black despair. "I failed my Phaeron. Please give me honorable death." Seshedes wanted to tell him this was foolish. A single Deathmark could not possibly have made a difference, the Phaeron's death was not upon his head. Yet he knew the words would not reach him. No… instead…

"We cannot give you honorable death. Only the great warrior princess of the Khatekh can give you that judgement. Come, let us take you to Princess Xahkephra." Udjehyt went suddenly stiff.

"She is here… she is alive…? How?" he asked and Seshedes wasn't too surprised that he didn't know. There was no reason for him to be told and semi-sentients and non-sentients did not gossip. In the forces of the Sautekh, as souls were reclaimed, gossip had become a very common thing.

"She was taken to serve as an amusement for the commander of this force. Her condition is very bad, but she is alive and will be repaired. You may see her now," Seshedes said as he silently arranged it via interstitial messaging. They were currently on the recall ship, they had removed his loyalty protocols there, but they could easily move this to Manric's flagship. A quick shuttle ride later and they were able to gain audience with the Princess. Seshedes knew her current rank was Overlord, in recognition of her fallen status, but Udjehyt would not see it that way. When they were granted leave to enter her presence, Udjehyt stiffened again.

"Warrior Princess Xahkephra? Is that you…?" he asked with true confusion, unable to make visual identification. She had removed the broken shards of her royal finery, and not replaced them. Xahkephra nodded.

"Udjehyt, I remember you. You were assigned to the Phaeron. Please tell me, is my father dead?" There was a great intensity to her question and Udjehyt looked down.

"He is… he fought with his Lychguard, and faced the Mother of Madness himself. She killed him, taking his head for a trophy… I am so sorry. So sorry I could not prevent it…" Udjehyt said and Seshedes could tell, from body language, that Xahkephra's reaction was not sorrow. Relief? "I beg you to grant me an honorable death."

"Udjehyt, no! A single Deathmark could make no difference to his fate. All you could possibly have done is grant my father what he achieved, an honorable death. There is no blame on anyone but the cursed Maynarkh and their treachery, striking while we were still waking," she said and Udjehyt looked down. Seshedes could tell she was not reaching him. Was there anything he could say?

"If the Phaeron of Khatekh were here, would he not ask that you protect his daughter, as a sacred trust?" Seshedes asked and Udjehyt looked at him, tilting his head. Likely because he did not expect this from another Deathmark. "Would he not ask that you live, so that someday, perhaps, you can claim the head of his murderer?" Although assassinating the Mother of Madness would be a tall order indeed. Seshedes vividly remembered how he had failed on Imotekh… the phase generator had been too much, even for his skill.

"Do not give him hopes of that… the Mother of Madness is enrobed in darkness." A poetic way to reference her many protections. Seshedes had no idea what they consisted of, but they were surely fearsome. "But he is right. Udjehyt, please become my first retainer in this exile, my loyal Deathmark." Udjehyt cogitated on that for a moment, absorbing it.

"I will serve you, my Princess," he said and Seshedes was pleased, although on observing the two of them together, another thought was brought to mind. It was concerning.

As he went back to his own ship, Seshedes thought upon it. Manric Duleth was being groomed to become a future wing commander. That was quite obvious, from the fleet he'd been given and the mission he had been sent on. It was unfortunate that he was so valuable in the ground battles but Zahndrekh likely meant to give him more naval commands in the future, to refine his skill in that area. As their forces continued to expand, a new wing commander would become necessary.

However, now a great and mighty strategist and naval commander, fully the equal of Zahndrekh, had been dropped in their laps. It would be foolish NOT to use Xahkephra. She had a long and illustrious history of command, from the War in Heaven. Her accolades would take hours to recite. It would be madness, to favor someone as relatively unproven as Manric over her. And yet…

Have they realized what this means? Seshedes knew Manric hadn't, but he did not know Xahkephra at all. He knew she was called Warrior Princess, but that could mean nothing but physical ability. Itolyx hadn't, but he likely did not know her either. The ones that should realize were the Sautekh Overlords and yet, Seshedes wondered. Ahmakeph should see it coming, but had he?

Seshedes thought he might not have, because of his fidelity to Sautekh. To Ahmakeph, it would seem wrong to elevate a newcomer, a foreign noble over an Overlord with a history of personal loyalty to the Dynasty. Seshedes was sure, though, that Zahndrekh and Imotekh would not see it that way… they saw the larger picture in a way a minor Overlord did not. That was part of the reason why Ahmakeph would never be promoted past his current position. Not that Seshedes thought that was a flaw… he himself would never be promoted. It was still a good thing, to be strong and competent in your position, no matter what it might be.

Seshedes wondered though. Should he prepare everyone? Although it was not entirely up to him, surely others would see what he did. Yet, he could spread his thoughts. He could have a conversation with Cryptek Ahasehti, in particular. He would talk to the other Crypteks and quickly spread the news. Immortal Khed, too, would be a good choice. Yes, he would do that.

Eventually, the news would filter up to their commanders and they could prepare themselves for the disappointment.


Some time later.

Ahmakeph had asked Manric and Itolyx to join him in a meeting on his ship. He'd been cagey about the reason over the communicator, but as soon as they were together, he went directly into it.

"What is this maggoty brain worm running through the troops? They seem to think this Princess will be promoted above you," Ahmakeph said, surprising Manric greatly. He leaned on his spear, genuinely caught off guard by that idea. Itolyx tilted his head, also quite surprised by the thought.

"I do not know her, but I was merely an Immortal in the War in Heaven. Does she have a good record as a commander?" Itolyx asked and Ahmakeph made glyphs of frustration.

"She has an excellent record. But that isn't the point!" Well, Manric knew that to Imotekh, that would be the point. He had no problems with elevating those who were not technically Sautekh. An excellent example of that was Naszar, he was from a smaller Dynasty that had sworn loyalty. So was Manric, actually, although Ahmakeph seemed to forget that. "We should not show favor to a foreigner without any history of loyalty to Sautekh, over one of our own."

"Loyalty is of course important, but from what I sense from her, she will be loyal indeed," Manric mused. Xahkephra intensely desired revenge on Maynarkh, and that made Sautekh her only option. The Silent King would not punish his wayward minions, he simply couldn't, they were one of the few Dynasties to give him full loyalty now. And there were no other Dynasties with the power and drive to challenge Maynarkh. "This is disappointing." Although he did not know that this rumor was correct.

"What shall we do about it?" Itolyx asked and Manric was aware of the implications of what he was saying. Even on Hope, with the endless pressure of the drukhari, being a General meant playing political games. He had often worked with his father, the King, to handle the Council. Now, in Zahndrekh's fleet, Manric had a power block behind him. He could advocate for himself, fight against Xahkephra being promoted above him. And yet… was that the right thing to do for the fleet as a whole?

"I will test her myself," Manric said after a long moment of thought. "I will engage her in simulations, war games, to determine her level of skill. If she is truly better than I am, I will graciously accept this, for the good of the Sautekh Empire as a whole." Ahmakeph and Itolyx looked at each other for a moment and Manric sensed Ahmakeph was frustrated with him, while Itolyx was torn on the matter. "Also, we are immortal now… I can wait."

"It could be a thousand years before the fleet is ready to split again!" Yes… that was true. Sautekh was experiencing organic growth but building up to an entire fleet wing would still take considerable time. At some point, too, the growth would need to come to an end… well, Manric hoped it would need to come to an end. If it didn't, they would be intensely at war for a very long period indeed. "And that's if it splits at all. We do take permanent losses." Yes, that was the other thing, there was always attrition. The organic growth was more than accounting for that at the moment but that might not continue.

"And the current fleet split is still some time off, they were only preparing you for it… you truly might be waiting a very long time. Is this acceptable?" Itolyx asked and Manric hesitated a moment. It really was disappointing. Becoming a fleet commander was his current goal, the highest rank he could hope to achieve, and he could tell he was on the path to it. And yet.

"Yentark was not pleased to accept his retirement and my elevation, but he still did it with grace. I must do the same, if it is the best for the fleet," Manric finally said. "But I will test her myself and make sure it is the right thing for the fleet." True, it was not his decision, but if he found Xahkephra's skill to be lacking Manric would gather his power block and advocate for himself. If he found her skill to be genuinely greater than his own, he would graciously accept it and step back, allowing her to take precedent. Itolyx made a short glyph poem, praising Manric's dedication to duty and his loyalty.

"Ah… you are so frustrating! You do not speak for yourself strongly enough," Ahmakeph said and Manric knew that would be his perspective on it. He never had any problem with putting himself out there and claiming his achievements. Zahndrekh found it rather amusing and sometimes liked to pop his bubble. Manric was a very different person, however, and that was not his way. "But it is your career, not mine, so if that is what you want, very well. At least then I will not be parted from you for a long time." Manric blinked at that concern but then realized Ahmakeph was right. If Manric was promoted, Ahmakeph would not come with him, he would surely stay with Zahndrekh.

"Thank you for being a true friend," Manric said and Ahmakeph made glyphs of derision.

"Don't think I like you!" Itolyx and Manric both made glyphs of amusement, simultaneously, at the patently obvious lie. "Pah! Well, let me join you in the war games too, I want to see her skill." Well, why not?

Xahkephra was a touch surprised but more than willing to join them in their games as the fleet got underway. Before too long, Manric was more than satisfied with her skill… she was as difficult and canny an opponent as Zahndrekh. She was also better at explaining herself than the quirky nemesor… Zahndrekh loved to go into long winded stories about his previous experiences, and you had to ferret out the useful information. Xahkephra simply articulated it, clearly and concisely explaining the logic behind her actions. Manric thought he could learn from her and that made his decision quite easy.

He would graciously accept her elevation over him, for the good of Imotekh's forces as a whole.


Xahkephra had no idea what was on the minds of her sparring partners, in the simulated games of strategy. Instead, she was evaluating them in turn.

Itolyx was a former Immortal and his level of skill reflected that. Very by the book, unimaginative, yet he executed his maneuvers well and competently. He should never be promoted any further, but he was a valuable commander. Ahmakeph was a bit different… very aggressive, willing to take risks, but more likely to make mistakes in the process. He could be very dangerous and had some stunning victories, but also some stunning failures.

Manric was the most dangerous of the three. He could be as by the book as Itolyx when the situation demanded it, yet suddenly shift to extreme aggression when he saw an opening. He was flexible and adaptive, willing to take chances yet not foolishly so. Xahkephra had to work hard to defeat him and could see why he was in command of this fleet.

Almost as good, but very narrow in his focus, was Tadutep. A former commander of the Charnovokh, who had left them and sworn loyalty to Sautekh, he was only good at Naval matters but in that area he was exceedingly good indeed. For a while, Xahkephra hadn't realized how intensely weak he was at ground command, but after he delivered a stinging defeat to Ahmakeph and Itolyx the two of them had demanded he meet them in a ground-based scenario. The defeat they'd given him had been equally stinging, to her amusement. Manric's amusement as well, as he'd just watched it play out.

There were other ship captains who dared to join them, and they all had different characters and styles. Xahkephra had a very good time, mentally noting their names and their strengths and weaknesses. Not that she would need the information, but it was a long habit from holding command.

Xahkephra was extremely interested as the fleet went to Hope. She had heard they were going to take a Wormhole to Sautekh space, and that was absolutely incredible… she'd had no idea such technology existed. It was also shocking to find out that it was a piece of human technology, from the very height of their civilization, unfinished and completed by Technomancer Ahkaros. Like everyone, she knew of him… he was almost as notorious as Illuminator Szeras, although much less feared. Although you still didn't want to get on his bad side. Ahkaros had no qualms about using violence to solve a problem.

The wormhole generator was very impressive and so was the Hope system, when she saw it. Alien yet familiar, she could see all the necron technology mixed with the human. Shipyards were busy at work, bustling with activity and light. Great protections, built into asteroids and moons, guarded the planet and a strange, hybrid fleet was in place. Also an aeldari ship?

"What is that aeldari ship doing here?" Xahkephra asked, looking at the tactical readouts in perplexity. Manric made glyphs of amusement.

"Everyone asks that… it was a prize, taken from the drukhari." And they had used it? How strange. "That was when we only had six thousand necrons. While using a drukhari vessel had challenges, they came equipped with atmospheric controls and sanitation facilities." Ahhh. If they'd absolutely needed to bring humans, that did make sense. Retrofitting such things onto a necron vessel would be considerably worse than figuring out how to use a drukhari one. "We actually decided to refurbish it a bit, so now it's every bit as good as the other ships in orbit. I'm told the crew is rather fond of it."

They had been outside of the proper communication relays until now. The survey ship had laid a few small, limited ones but they were only one way, to facilitate reports. So now messages flew back and forth and Manric came back with wonderful news.

"We are being granted two weeks of leave to spend on Hope," he said and a few of the bridge crew made glyphs of joy. "I had hoped we would have time for this," Manric said, making glyphs for his own joy. "We can't all go down at once, let's begin the rotations. I hope to give everyone who desires it a solid week with their families."

Xahkephra watched in fascination as all the leaves were arranged. Many of the necron forces also wanted to go to the planet, to meet with friends or just for enjoyment. To her surprise, Manric asked if she wished to be included in that.

"I've asked Itolyx and he would be honored to introduce you to Phaeron Rahkaak and his half-brother, Kototep. They would be willing to show you around Hope a bit, if you desire it." Xahkephra did desire it but her body – "The Crypteks have created a neutralizing spray. If you put it on yourself ever hour or so, it should take care of the smell. The rest of your condition is unpleasant, but for humans that will make it tolerable… they can't turn off their sense of smell, alas." Yes, that was how the entire bridge crew was handling it, just turning off their olfactory sensors. Xahkephra considered it for a moment. It was humiliating to be seen in this state, but she did want to see the planet. "Also, you could wear a cloak, to hide most of the damage." Oh, she had not thought of that!

"That sounds wonderful. I would gladly accept," she said and to her pleasure, the cloak they provided her with was quite beautiful. Meant for a necron and designed for formal occasions, it was heavily embroidered and also sewn with lovely copper bangles. Xahkephra deeply appreciated how it hid her damaged body, making her almost presentable. Along with Udjehyt as an attendant, she felt almost like royalty again.

Amusingly enough, on first meeting Kototep, he accidentally made a dreadful mistake.

"Great Princess of the Khatekh Dynasty, I am pleased to meet you. That neckpiece is quite beautiful," Kototep complimented the only thing he could and Xahkephra felt a great hilarity as Itolyx flinched, ever so slightly. For a moment she thought of letting it pass, but Kototep might find out later and be mortified. Better to deal with it now.

"Unfortunately, this is not an adornment but rather, an instrument of torture. If only it could be removed I could be repaired but alas, it is too dangerous." Would the nanites go berserk and shred her body if it was removed incorrectly? Probably, and that could easily defeat recall. Nanite plagues were something necrons feared.

"Oh," Kototep said, taken aback. "My apologies… I had no idea." Xahkephra made glyphs indicating her gracious acceptance of his apology.

"It is understandable, it is beautiful enough to be an adornment." Was that deliberate? Making an instrument of torture gorgeous? That did seem like the Maynarkh, particularly now. Xahkephra had noticed they seemed different from how she remembered, as though the Great Sleep had rotted them, bringing out all of their worst qualities. "I am grateful to be allowed to visit your Crownworld," Xahkephra said, smoothing things over and that prompted Kototep to begin her tour.

Xahkephra had a wonderful time, visiting the small but vibrant Crownworld of the Uhnashret. It felt like a step back into normalcy, after her time with the Maynarkh. The human community above was alien, but also beautiful and while she found organics a bit repulsive in general, the way they had adapted necron architecture and symbols, and merged them with their own, was pleasing.

The human shells were also aesthetically pleasing. They had lived with their own bodies for so long that no one really thought to change them, but Xahkephra knew their current appearances had been chosen by the C'Tan. That was truly brought home to her when she met Osatek and Anhomqena. Xahkephra could not remember the flesh times but the instant she saw Anhomqena's sculpted bronze face, she knew this must be what necrontyr had looked like in life. They were the ones to introduce her to the portraits and other artworks, recalling the ancient necrontyr. The originals of the paintings had gone to Trazyn but prints had been made and she was able to see Imotekh the Stormlord, as he had been when young and alive. Truly remarkable.

After a short but pleasing stay, Xahkephra had to bid goodbye not just to Hope, but to Manric and his fleet. The wormhole generator had eight terminus and one of them was in Mandragora, so she was being summoned to attend on the Stormlord. And what would he do with her? Send her to serve beneath one of his great nemesors, she was sure, but probably not Zahndrekh. Manric and his fleet were his subordinates and Xahkephra had formed an impression of great competence. Imotekh would want to send her to a place that could more use her talents.

Before the Stormlord gave her audience, though, he directed her to his greatest Crypteks. They were indeed led by his daughter, Ibianza and they began examining her collar. They quickly came to an unsettling conclusion.

"This is Toholk's work. One of his earlier pieces, before he went completely insane," Ibianza said as she gently and carefully examined the collar, probing it with tools and minute scarabs. Xahkephra felt cold at the thought. If this was Toholk's work, it was brutally trapped. "Do not be too alarmed… I believe this was originally meant for organic prisoners, then repurposed."

"Oh, so it dates from the War in Heaven?" It was rare that they would take aeldari and krork prisoners, but not unknown. Ibianza made a glyph of affirmation, as she continued her work.

"That means that it was not truly designed with other necrons in mind. I can already see the design of it… if the nanites are not correctly returned to the housing of the collar before it is removed, they go berserk and kill the prisoner. However, as long as they are it is perfectly safe," Ibianza said, her hands still moving. "I can detect no traps designed to kill the one removing the collar, only the prisoner. Ah… here we are…" Xahkephra couldn't see the change of the collar, but the light of it was reflecting from Ibianza's face and she saw the lights shift. Then the collar suddenly came off with a soft pop. "There. It is done."

"Thank you," Xahkephra said with great relief. Finally, to be free of that accursed thing! Ibianza examined the collar in her hands for a moment before gently putting it aside.

"A terrible instrument, but we might have a use for it someday. For now, let us begin your repairs and remodelling." That was so wonderful. Xahkephra glanced down at her body, noticing that the bubbling had already ceased. Touching herself, she could tell the Living Metal was already firmer. With a great sense of relief, she gave herself to the Crypteks. They quickly repaired her body, bringing her back to her old self. And without her asking, they alloyed her necrodermis with fine silver, creating a beautiful coating. Xahkephra knew they were showing her honor and appreciated it.

Then, when her repairs were done, they showed her a much greater honor. So great, that she almost wanted to refuse.

"I… do not deserve this honor from the Sautekh," Xahkephra said as she looked at the new cloak of plaques she was being offered. It was beautiful beyond words, each plaque silver washed with gold and very finely made, worked into glyphs and set with precious stones. It had been changed slightly, the glyphs for Sautekh had been replaced with the glyphs for Khatekh, but Xahkephra could still recognize this cloak. The Phaeron of Sautekh had worn it, so long ago.

"Imotekh has said that he feels there is no one who deserves this more than you," Ibianza said and Xahkephra was torn. They truly wanted her to have this? "Also, he does not care for this mantle himself and would probably destroy it in short order. You somehow came through the entire War of Heaven with your cloak intact… please, accept this gift." That was true, she'd somehow done that. Her father's cloak had been rebuilt several times, but not her own. Xahkephra finally nodded, accepting the mantle and internally pledging to take good care of it.

Her body restored, the cloak of beautiful plaques hanging from her back and arms, Xahkephra finally felt like royalty again. With only one loyal follower, but Deathmark Udjehyt's presence was a great comfort as she went to see Imotekh the Stormlord.

He was exactly as she remembered, without a single sign on his body to indicate that he was now Phaeron. But then, Imotekh scarcely needed that… he was a terrifying machine of war, his augmentations far more impressive than any cloak of plaques. And he stood in the throne room of the Sautekh Empire, surrounded by the trappings of the Phaeron. Xahkephra had been here before, but she was still dutifully impressed and gave Imotekh a deep bow.

"Phaeron of Sautekh, Imotekh the Stormlord, this unworthy one gives you greetings. I have lost my family, my Dynasty, and I desire revenge. Can I find this path with you?" Xahkephra asked, which was a formal request dating back to the ancient necrontyr. It was not unfathomable for entire Dynasties and families to be destroyed, oh no, not at all.

"Our paths flow in accordance and I will take your oath, with my assurance: Your revenge will come," Imotekh rumbled, his eyes glowing. Then his tone became a bit more informal. "I am pleased to see you again. I had thought all your Dynasty gone, although I had thought the humans were behind it." Ah. A reasonable thing to think, perhaps.

"Alas, no. We had barely begun moving against the humans settled on our worlds before Maynarkh struck at us," Xahkephra said, remembering the chaos of it. A three-way war that had quickly turned into a two-way war as the humans fled or were crushed. Then the necrons had gotten down to the ugly business of exterminating each other. Imotekh's eyes flared.

"I truly had not thought Maynarkh would do such a thing. You were stalwart allies of the Silent King," he said and Xahkephra made glyphs of assent. She hadn't imagined it either, until the beasts were at their door. "We are enemies of the Silent King, in addition to the Maynarkh. Also, while it is not required, we ask that you consider accepting a soul. It confers immunity to the Flayer virus but if the Silent King bests us in the Pariah Nexus, all who have taken souls will die," Imotekh warned her. Xahkephra did not have to think twice.

"I accept these terms. The Silent King might think it disloyal, but nothing matters to me now but revenge and that is what he cannot give me." Szarekh would likely feel bad about it, she knew, but Maynarkh would get nothing from him but a tongue lashing. That was not enough, not even slightly. Imotekh accepted her word without question.

"Then I accept your loyalty. With your consent, I will send you to serve beneath Naszar of the Sekemtar Dynasty." That was pleasing to her. During the War in Heaven, Xahkephra had met Naszar and worked with him quite well. "In time, when my forces have expanded, you will be elevated to nemesor." Xahkephra nodded. That was just her due, as a great commander in the War in Heaven. The thought of Manric and what his command of that fleet might mean did not cross her mind.

(Xahkephra could not know, but as part of his reports, Manric had included that everything she said was true and her desire for vengeance burned like a flame)

(if not for that, Imotekh might have considered that this could be a trap)

"Thank you, Stormlord. I will serve you well," she pledged and then the audience was over. As Xahkephra left, she felt optimistic about the future.

It might take a thousand years but she would have her revenge.