Tanna Ain’t Delicate

by swimming.in.lead.543

I just wanted to go home. I hadn't even made it to my truck before, in the blink of an eye, I'm not where I'm supposed to be, and some crazy dude with a third arm is swinging an axe at my face. (A 40k SI following the adventures of Caiaphas Cain and Amberley Vail. Mixture of crack and plot) SB and AO3 Crosspost!

7. Chapter 7

The transit time to Earth was unknown. Especially since we had to scurry away from Periremunda using the sublight engines alongside the evacuation vessels. I was bed bound for about another three days before the drugs wore off and I was able to work.

I checked in with Piotr first. When I approached his quarters I passed a visibly disheveled Canoness Lena, but you wouldn't think anything was wrong by the smile on her face. I gave her a nod and entered Piotr's quarters to get a proper look at him.

"How you doing, Pete?" I asked, earning a scoff from the Vostroyan.

"I should be asking you that, Commandant. You got more metal in you than I do at this point." Piotr was in good spirits, and the augmetic leg he was fitted with looked fairly high quality. It was sized properly and wasn't threadbare like some I had seen from the lower deckmen. It mimicked a normal leg as close as you could with steel. I had to hold back a snort when Buddy spoke up next.

" Fullmetal Alchemist… Fullmetal Alchemist."

" Well, Piotr, I'm glad you're doing better, and that you got something positive out of this whole debacle." I spoke, leaning against his doorframe with a grin, gesturing with my head down the corridor where I passed Lena.

"I've no idea what you mean, commandant." Piotr shot back but I could see the mischievous gleam in his blue eyes. I shook my head with a chuckle and moved forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Piotr, in all seriousness. Thank you. I should've never put you in a position where your pain was necessary, much less the loss of limb." I said to him, earning a shake of his head and a smile.

"I've been serving the emperor for twenty years, Commandant. It's not the first time I've taken fire for a superior officer." He spoke, waving me off. "You're not the worst CO I've had. I would've given you another year or two of being a grunt, myself, but you've done well enough with what you've been given. We got lucky this time, it's just a leg. But you've got to prepare yourself for the reality of things." He brings a hand up and pokes a finger into my chest. "In the fog of war, you will lose men. I saw you got when I got wounded, you tensed up like you were going to jump into the fray in a mad rage, and you did not long after. That's how you get dead, маленькая кузина. Rein in that fury, even if you use it well, because if you don't, you'll get yourself, and your men into situations where a single casualty will turn into a self-sacrificial slaughter."

Piotr leaned back in his seat, taking a puff from a pipe I hadn't noticed until now.

"We've gotten through three deployments with no deaths. We were due a casualty as some point, and a leg is a small price to pay. Bad luck to have no losses for too long. The thing is, Commandant, as the years go on, our luck won't hold out forever. One day, one of us will go before the Emperor before you do, and you need to make your peace with that."

"The Inquisitor picked Anya and I up about seven years ago, our regiment had been in an engagement with the Tau that she was investigating, I was the acting Sergeant after Anya's father, my uncle, died. A squadron of twelve guardsmen became two by the time the Inquisitor found us. We did everything right. Stuck together, covered our angles, but a Tau Mortar strike came through. In one fell swoop, it was just us two."

Another long drag from the pipe.

"That's why Anya and I have been assigned to you, Commandant. I've failed at leading before. So we know what to look for. Believe me, Sir, when you're doing something stupid , we'll tell you." He finished with a light chuckle, giving a jaunty salute with his pipe.

"Now go on, get out of here. I'm fine, and I've had my fill of advising. I'm sure you've work to do, Quartermaster."

—

I reported to Vail next, which went about as well as I could've expected.

"You weren't expected to be back on your feet for another three days." Vail spoke, she was tearing through her wardrobe, and looked like there was more recaf going through her veins than blood.

"You look like hell, Inquisitor." I spoke simply, earning a glare.

"Being summoned to Holy Terra itself for an audience with the Emperor Himself requires proper decorum and preparation, Interrogator. Even if I am not granted an audience before the Golden Throne, I will be representing the Ordo Xenos on Terra. To my knowledge anyhow. And if I am to hold my own against the bureaucratic warzone that is Terran Nobility, I must be prepared. As should you." She spoke calmly, taking a sip from a steaming mug before holding up some kind of Victorian-era esque dress in front of her mirror.

"The attire alone has had me without sleep for a week. Not to mention the protocols, code words, callsigns, and so forth that I have to memorize before we even get to the segmentum solar. So yes, I am rather stressed at the moment. It will pass. This part of the process is always the hardest. Go report to Yanbel, he'll give you a once over and a proper report on what your augmetics are capable of."

"Considering the Emperor has a Power Armor fetish you might be better off just wearing your fight suit."

"… noted."

—

Yanbel practically dragged me into a chair the moment I entered the room. Poked and prodded and scanned whilst Binaric Cant filled the room.

"You should not be on your feet yet, David." Yanbel finally spoke in Gothic after frantically checking me over with the auspex.

"I shouldn't have woken up with my ribcage spread open but hey I did anyway." I shot back, mildly irritated at the instant lab rat role I had been assigned. One of the adepts jabbed a needle into my neck and depressed the contents.

"A light stimulant. It'll give you some energy and kickstart the augmetic liver." Yanbel explained as I rubbed at the wound and gave a light glare at Triton, who I could swear was smiling behind the vox unit that hid his mouth.

"Thanks, by the way, for not just replacing my whole limbs." I stated, turning to face Yanbel, who gave a small bow.

"They would not be your hands, my friend." I gave him a small smile before he continued.

"Now then, as I'm sure you're aware you've been fitted with an augmetic heart, liver, lungs, and kidneys. Further reason for you to consider pilgrimage to Holy Mars whilst we're in the Sol System, I might add." He speaks, giving a tap on the forehead with one of his mechadendrites.

"The Omnissiah's presence in your flesh essentially overclocked your biological processes beyond what a normal layperson could withstand. You suffered a collapsed lung, acute liver failure, adrenaline poisoning, and a rupture in your aorta shortly after we got you into surgery. We had to move quickly to save you. Inquisitor Vail, seeing that things of this nature are likely to repeat themselves; even if they don't you've proven to have a penchant for drawing the attention of beings that tend to squish unaugmented persons, ordered you be fitted with augmetics that would enhance your capabilities more than simply replace them." As he spoke he handed me a dataslate containing the details of my injuries and the augmetics I was fitted with, which he continued to extrapolate on.

"The Augmetic Heart you've been blessed with allows for increased red blood cell production as well as being far more resilient against impacts and other disturbances in homeostasis than flesh. It is directly linked into your nervous system, as such, it requires no conscious thought to operate, unlike certain lesser models."

"Having to think about keeping my heart beating sounds terrifying…" I muttered under my breath.

"Yes, that's why being fitted with one of those hearts is a Death Sentence on certain Penal Worlds. Getting back on track, your lungs. In addition to being augmetically replaced, you've been given a third auxiliary lung."

"….you gave me three lungs."

"Venters advocated for giving you a second heart as well."

I let out a strained sigh out of my nose.

"Continue, please, before I give myself another aneurysm."

"Your new lungs are fitted with toxin filters in addition to being far more efficient in drawing in oxygen out of the environment. I would still recommend preventative measures as far as toxins go, as the filters will eventually lose efficacy if overused, and a thousand year part will lose that expected lifespan."

"Noted."

"Your liver has been replaced with a far more fuel efficient model, toxin filtration has been further enhanced, blood filtration efficiency has been increased, and of course, this model is also far more resilient than the weakness of our flesh."

"Yes, yes, ' I aspire to the purity of the blessed machine', I get it Yanbel, please let's just keep going."

"Your kidneys were replaced with furthermore resiliency upgrades in addition to being able to produce more adrenaline, as well as the ability to automatically administer painkillers and other medicine."

"… come again?"

"Your kidneys can give you drugs, David."

"Yeah that's what I thought you said…why?"

"If you are wounded away from support, having this ability would be invaluable."

"Counterpoint: Raya."

"Counterpoint: Titans."

"I still wouldn't bet against an angry Raya."

" Moving on, in addition to these, we've reinforced your skeletal structure with adamantine braces, and your muscles have been interwoven with synthetic fibers. With the further enhancements granted by the silver carapace, I'd wager you'll be able to endure more punishment than ever." Yanbel finished, finally stepping away from the makeshift operating table and allowing me to my feet. I took a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking again.

"So why aren't you in a tizzy about setting foot on the homeworld?" I asked, watching as the other adepts returned to their workstations, and walking over to my own.

"Simple: I don't have to deal with the laypeople. So I can enjoy the experience with all proper reverence."

"…Yanbel that's the first thing you've ever said to me that's actually gotten me to consider going to Mars."

—

It took us months of warp travel to get to Periremunda, I was expecting similar fare to get to the Segmentum Solar not to mention Terra itself. So, after checking in with everyone and doing my damnedest to avoid the new clergy of Sororitas on the ship, I got back to work on what I do best.

Actual fucking gunsmithing.

I was looking over a Kantrael pattern lasgun, having taken the thing apart and been poring over the data packages for a few hours at this point.

"I'd best be getting some upgrades out of this, Quartermaster." the lasgun itself had been in service for over a century, and spoke like your typical guardsman.

"Do you want to burn through Ceramite or not, Pal?" I shot back as I futzed with the contacts on his power pack receptacle. The contacts were covered in corrosion and I was cleaning it off to see if they would need replacement.

"Shutting up, Sir."

As I tinkered with the lasgun I was able to properly appreciate its design. The humble lasgun is capable of melting through flak armor and concrete and liquifying the flesh and organs underneath. The delicate internals were held deep within the chassis of the weapon, protected from impacts, allowing the average guardsman to not worry about having to use the lasgun as an improvised melee weapon. Already I was thinking about how I can upgrade it. The blocky design was iconic, yes, but its ergonomics were severely outdated.

In all honestly this weapon was giving me more trouble than anything else so far. I was a gunsmith, not an electrician, so I was leaning heavily on Yanbel's expertise.

It was a learning experience, I had done some prior research before diving into this experiment, but actually modifying was proving more difficult than expected.

"You must be careful at this point, David. Those components are very fine-tuned." Yanbel spoke, gesturing at the internal contacts.

"I know, Yanbel, but this is the major choke point…I get more amps through this resistor without compromising the heat sink…we're looking at a significant increase in heat generation. Some thicker lenses to help focus…"

"Focus, David. Your fervor is appreciated, but you would like to keep your hands flesh, yes?"

"There's no power in the circuit, Yanbel. The only way this guy should blow up is if I insult his mother." I shot back before clicking the upgraded connectors into place, I knocked out the base lenses and picked up the resized hellgun lenses to insert them into the barrel.

"You're decreasing the amount of shots you'll receive out of a standard power pack." Yanbel commented, I nodded.

"Yes, however each of those shots will hit with the same amount of authority as a full powered Hellgun. If I designed these connectors right, a flick of a switch and we should be able to reduce the power back to standard levels." I explained, using a nylon punch to set the lenses in carefully.

"I don't understand why you were so insistent on this project, Interrogator." Yanbel spoke after a moment. "We have other priorities with the summons to Holy Terra."

"I owe Piotr something more than just a 'thank you for your service' Yanbel." I spoke as the lens 'clicked' into place and the machine spirit let out an enthusiastic shout. "So I'm doing this for him. And hey, if we face more Heretic Astartes, he might kill a few."

"Fair enough of a point, I suppo-" Yanbel's statement was cut off by the unmistakable lurching that came from the ship translating from the warp into realspace.

"….its been two weeks…we can't be here already, can we?" I muttered, running out into the corridor to witness the many shutters of the ship slowly start to rise. Yanbel followed, and I could feel the familiar presence of Raya appearing at my shoulder.

"It always astounds me how unpredictable warp travel can be." Yanbel commented as the shutters finally cleared our viewpoint. And as I watched what had become of my homeworld, I felt my new heart wrench in my chest, and tears peek at the corners of my eyes.

"….its so brown… it's supposed to be blue, damn it."

My voice did not break. You're hearing shit.

(Note from Lady Custodian Raya: it did.)

TL's: маленькая кузина- Little Cousin.

The Arvus Lighter touched down on a private landing pad within the Lion's Gate spaceport, Raya had taken control of said Lighter for this excursion, and for once was in full regalia. Full plate of Auramite power armor with her helm sealed shut over her face.

"Always wanted to come to the Himalayas…just didn't expect it to be like this." I noted, earning a raised eyebrow from Vail, who was also in full Inquisitorial Regalia. Her greatcoat was wrinkle free and a number of medals adorned her chest, the centerpiece of this being the Inquisitorial Rosette hanging from her neck.

"Summoned to the highest authority that the human race is beholden to?" Vail asked, and I shook my head.

"I expected to be shivering my ass off or being hounded by barkers trying to get the tourist to buy something."

"You weren't born on this continent, correct?" Vail asked, I simply nodded in reply.

"North America. Used to be a whole ocean between here and there, now it's just desert…I hate this Millennium." I let out a deep sigh. Shaking the growing red haze from behind my eyes. Fuck off Khorne.

Fuck you too, kid.

We landed and were immediately heralded by a number of Vox-Skulls.

" Is this thing on…? Yes? Okay. BEHOLD! Our wayward sister has returned! In her esteemedcustody is none other than… .whats her name? Inquisitor Amberley Vail of the Ordo Xenos! Retriever of Relics and the most competent of the bunch." Oh good god above I know that voice. Karstodes….if he's here that means the other two of the Trio of the Oiled Abs are around. Oh god he's talking about me now.

" And finally we have Raya's Ball-and-Chain, the Gun-Whisperer, the cause of half of my problems recently, the Waker of a Dead God, the Imperial Neeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrd!" Oh joy the two others joined in.

" Raya, drag their mortal behinds to the Sanctum Imperialis. That'll be all." The vox cut off and the skulls flew off, leaving us surrounded by staring serfs, statuesque custodians, and a concerning amount of tech adepts. I turned to face Raya.

"Would you be offended if I stab your brother?" I asked, and she held Vigil out as if to offer her to me.

"Please. He's insufferable at the best of times."

—

The closer we got to the Sanctum Imperialis the less attention we garnered. Raya escorted us and we were marching fairly briskly to get there. I could see more and more Custodians the closer we got, the golden sentinels standing like statues, and the endless sea of red that was the mechanicus adepts at work. The closer we got to that damned pyramid I could feel a twisted feeling in my gut.

Nerves, as well as something else. Anticipation? Likely yes.

And fury. Anger, frustration, and grief. Enough that I felt my hands clench into fists as we walked. The march was silent. No words needed to be said. No. I was saving them for that bastard on the Golden Throne.

"Hold, there." A voice calls. Soft-spoken but still loud enough to carry a voice of command. A figure approaches us, large, clad in the golden auramite of the Adeptus Costodes. Raya drops to a knee, planting the shaft of her spear into the ground in a salute.

"Captain-General, Sir!" She speaks, head bowed in a respectful greeting, I take off my hat and give a bow of greeting myself. He's been pleasant enough so far, and I was curious if this Captain-General was also mirroring his feline inclined counterpart.

"Lictor Raya, I see you've brought your charge before us, as summoned. I am to assume you are Foothill then, and you are Inquisitor Vail?" The Captain-General speaks, he's clad head to toe in the traditional armor of his station, helm secured firmly in place, and he speaks eloquently. His voice matched his text-to-speech counterpart, but I couldn't rely on that to determine his personality.

Vail spoke first.

"It is a tremendous honor beyond words to be summoned here today, m'lord Custodes." She spoke giving a formal bow. The helm of the Captain-General shifted to gaze upon us.

"Lady Inquisitor, it is a genuine pleasure to meet you, however, I regret to inform you that you will not be able to accompany your apprentice into the Emperor's Throneroom. However, rest assured I will return him to you unharmed." The golden giant spoke. A gentle one, it seemed. Vail gave another courteous bow as the Captain-General turned back to Raya. "Lictor Raya, feel free to escort the Inquisitor around the Palace as I take your Betrothed into the throne room." The man then finally turned to me, and the teasing lilt in his voice vanished. Replaced with solemnity.

"David James Foothill…he's waiting. Has been for a long time, longer than you realize. Come, best not to keep him waiting for much longer." He speaks, and it feels like I'm talking with my brothers, about to deal with my dad when his temper flared. I simply nod, and I break away from Raya and Vail.

The Captain-General and I walk in relative silence. The reality, the weight of the situation hitting my gut with every step. I'm weaponless, and I feel my fingers itching to wrap around my pistol already. I shake off the sensation as I witness the massive doors, ornate and engraved with the Aquilla open. The two Contemptor-Galatus Dreadnaughts are ever vigilant in their guard. As I feel their gaze on me, I realize that with an errant twitch I would be a smear on one of those massive shields. I continue forward anyway. I know what I signed up for when I joined Vail's retinue.

—

David James Foothill enters the throne room hesitantly. Eyes darting around and taking in every detail. He seems almost diminutive, stood next to the Captain General, yet he keeps his back straight as he marches forward, eyes locking onto the centerpiece of the room.

The Golden Throne and its one Inhabitant.

The Emperor of Mankind, Revelation, he who conquered the Earth with steel and fire. His presence fills the room like a miasma, a weight settling on David's shoulders that compels him to kneel. Yet he doesn't. He's too much in shock for the compulsion to register in his mind, as the Emperor is no mere skeleton on the throne.

He is a man. An old man, skin gaunt and pale, with dark hair draping over his shoulders, and eyes glowing gold. He is emaciated, withered, and exhausted, but he is there. On the throne, breathing .

"How?!" David chokes out through gritted teeth. A fury growing in his chest at the revelation. This tyrant didn't deserve this, this man, who had murdered trillions. The red haze fills David's mind until someone places a hand on his shoulder.

"Calm yourself, my son. Your father struggled with the rage of the Bloody One as well, but you saw him overcome it. Turn the other cheek, do not decry someone whom I chose to heal." The words shock David from his stupor, and his eyes are drawn to the Speaker. He takes in the white robes, the scarred hands, and the eyes filled with naught but kindness even through the stern glare. Like a parent admonishing a child.

" Joshua decided that I needed vocal cords whilst you were giving your theology lesson on Periremunda." The Emperor speaks for the first time in this encounter. Leaning forward, and the sound of his skin shifting over old bones fills the area.

"It's high time we had a talk, Dave."

"What, exactly, do you want to talk about, Old Man?" I asked, no, not asked. That gives the impression that there was a sense of propriety in the words. I snarled them out in a barely restrained snarl. "You pull me from my home, I have to bloody my hands, you tell me to act, I act, and now here I am, almost two years in. The few things I've changed, in the wider scale of this caricature of a functioning galaxy, mean jack diddly squat!" I snarled out at the emaciated form on the Golden Throne. I take a deep breath to try and calm myself, but being here, being home is getting to me. Seeing what has become of this place and the atrocities that plague it.

" You get that off your chest, Kid?"

" Motherfuc-"

" Shut up and Listen. " The withered Emperor's eyes pulse with that golden glow and my mouth snaps shut as I'm forced to compose myself. My Savior's hand on my shoulder is the only thing keeping me from being forced to my knees like Lorgar was so many years ago.

" Interrogator, I had resigned myself to eternal internment on this accursed Throne." The Emperor speaks, and his voice holds the strength that conquered a million worlds. " For ten thousand years, I have languished on this damned chair. Forced to act as a Deity that I am not ." He gives a pointed glare at Christ, who is giving him a grin filled with the mischief of an older sibling teasing their younger.

" For ten thousand years, I felt my bones ache, decay, and my flesh slowly rot. Yet in the two years since I have brought you here, I have flesh once more. My strength is not as it was…I will need to recover over time, and remain on this throne to do my duty for my subjects, but I am no longer decaying . For this…I wholeheartedly say;" The Emperor leans forward, and his hair moves out of the way of his face, allowing me to see his features, gaunt yes, but I can see the brown behind the gold of his eyes, the sharp jaw and features of an old king who had seen too much for too long.

"Thank you, David. And Damn You , for making my job this much more difficult." The Man collapses back into the chair with a heavy sigh that echoes throughout the room.

" You really kicked the hornet's nest with this, Dave. Nurgle's pissed that I'm not rotting away on this thing, Tzeench is pissed because you shat on six of his plans so far, Slaanesh is pissed you haven't gone the harem route, and Khorne is pissed because he's Khorne." He brings a hand up to rub at his forehead, he seems hesitant, as if remembering how to do so for a moment before continuing the motion. I see the ghost of a smile on his lips as he enjoys the sensation of feeling something other than pain.

"I was gonna piss them off when I punched a hole in their golden boy Abbadon's face anyway." I snarked, earning a chuckle, a chuckle from the Emperor.

" Love the attitude, wanna help you make it happen, but we have more immediate concerns. I can't pull your strings like a marionette every time you face one of my grandkids."

"Still livid about you doing that, by the way."

" You'd be dead if I didn't."

"I died again, anyway! " I snapped, and the Carpenter spoke up for the first time in this interaction.

"It wasn't your time yet, my son." He says, and I find myself calmed once more. "You are exactly where you need to be right now, child."

" Joshua, no sermons in my house."

"It's my Mountain, Longinus."

" I changed your diapers. My house. David, I stopped dealing with crying children millenia ago. Your kid is a rifle and she still managed it. I don't want to deal with that again, so you need to get your ass in gear." The Emperor spoke, and I felt a smirk grow on my face.

"Heh, Emperor of Mankind, cowed by a nine month old baby."

" ...Let the record show that David James Foothill just added a thousand years to his sentencing."

-1000 Years added to sentence of Legios Repentia David James Foothill, Charge: Cheek.-

"Mother fucker…well what do you have in mind, Boss? We've got five years until Cain has to deal with his uppity schoolmate. I figure you want me there since you've been having me follow the poor guy so far." I let out a huff before the Emperor nods his head and speaks.

" Simple: You're going treasure hunting. I'm giving you a year. I want you to pull as many relics and weapons as you can out of your ass, then…you're going to Mars."

"...I'd rather not."

" Too bad, The Omnissiah decrees that David James Foothill will undergo his pilgrimage in one terran year's time. Captain-General, make sure the notarization goes through." I really didn't like that mean grin on the Emperor's face. I turned to face Christ, who simply smiles and nods.

"You're going where you need to go, my son."

Welp…there goes any chance I have of weaseling out of it with a clean conscience. I let out a deep sigh, scratching the back of my head before straightening up and turning back to the Emperor.

"Screw it, why not. You need me to Indiana Jones some stuff, fine. I got a motley crew of folks willing to help me out. You need me to go to Mars, Fine. I'll Matt Damon that shit. It's not like I have a choice in the matter." I muttered out, turning towards the Captain General to leave.

" One more thing, David." The Emperor spoke, dangummit I don't like that mischief in his voice.

"What, Boss?" I sighed out before a wave of pressure slammed into me like a freight train and I'm forced onto the ground. My knees buckle and I feel a heat spread through my skull.

" Get that chip off your shoulder, Boy . If not for me your soul would be Khorne's plaything a dozen times over. This is War , and terrible things must be done to ensure our species' continued existence." The genial façade is ripped away and I can feel that burning gold gaze on me. I snarled curses into the stone floor for a few moments before the pressure abated and the Captain-General began to guide me out of the Throne Room. As the massive gates began to shut I could just barely hear the voice of my Savior speaking to the Emperor.

"You demand much of him, Longinus."

" I cannot afford to coddle him, Joshua. The time for mercy has passed."

"We must agree to disagree on that, Old Friend." And the gates seal shut.

As the gates seal shut and I'm escorted back to the Arvus Lighter I notice that the other Custodians are following the two of us with their eyes, that the Tech Adepts are watching me intently even as they continue their work. The Captain-General guided most of the way there until I could see Raya and Vail waiting at the transport, He gestured with his spear towards them.

"I would recommend staying within the Sol System for this year, Interrogator. I wish you luck, and I think the new hair suits you well enough."

….Wait What?!

" EMPEROR DAMN-IT FOOTHILL!"

"What in the Karking Hells is this, David?!" Vail exclaimed once we were in the air, holding a lock of my now much longer and bright fucking silver hair up in front of my face.

"Marie Antoinette Syndrome. A physiological response to being hit with enough psychic pressure to physically slam me into the floor." I muttered out, letting out a huff as I leaned back in my seat. "You want the good news, the better news, or the bad news first?" Vail got back into her seat and crossed her arms. Composing herself back into her professional guise. I don't know why, it was just her me and Raya in the shuttle.

"Worst to best, Report." She speaks, and I begin.

"I kicked the hornets nest again in a big way." I admitted leading to a deep exhale of breath from Vail's Nostrils.

"…continue."

"So all of the Big Four are pissed at me for a number of reasons, but the main reason is the best news I got for you: The Emperor is no longer a skeleton on the Throne. He's alive and breathing, if still recovering from his ten thousand year soirée as the Bonelord."

"So you're telling me-"

"I'm saying that if things don't go even further to shit, the emperor might be able to get off that Throne and into the fight." I continue, letting a grin grow on my face. "The mere fact that he can move again is a paradigm shift in the Imperium's favor. In addition to that, I've got orders."

"We've got orders, David. I'm not letting you galavant across the galaxy alone like some of my other Colleagues and their Interrogators. Knowing you, you'll find a way to drag a bloody primarch out of the shadows." Vail snarked, her mood visibly better at the revelation that Revelation was breathing again.

"I personally do want to help the Salamanders find Vulkan, and if my hunch is correct, Dorn might be somewhere in the Sanctum Imperialis…Raya, would a primarch count as a relic or weapon?" I queried and the intercom of the Arvus crackled to life.

"I believe they would fit into the 'weapon' category, David." Raya responded, sounding intrigued.

"I think we all do, technically. Well then, I propose we head back to the Imperial Palace after I make this personal request." And there's the silence. Vail leans forward, lacing her fingers together, and intrigued expression on her face.

"A request, whilst on Holy Terra, on a rapid response transport, if this is simple sentimentality, David, I'll shave that new hair off with a chain sword." Vail speaks with a then veneer of sarcasm lacing her words.

"I've rocked Bald and Beautiful before, Amberley. Not really much of a deterrent. Anyway, yeah. I want to go home. If the river or the ocean didn't overtake it before the mechanicus boiled it away, my dad might've squirreled away my safe. And I know where that'd be." I also needed do say goodbye. Properly. But I didn't need to tell that to her, she already knew, I could see it in her eyes.

"Fourteen Thousand Kilometers, on the border of a massive hive ruin, we're going to have to dig, and for what, David?" Vail pushed, leaning forward to look me in the eye. "Chances are whatever your father left behind for you is dust, David." She wasn't wrong, but I also knew she was playing the devil's advocate here.

"Amberley, it'll take less than four hours. Get in, get my stuff, get out. Dorn isn't going anywhere, we're already on the shuttle." I reasoned, and Amberley made a show of leaning back in her chair, rubbing her chin with her thumb and 'hmm'ing in thought.

"Fine. But we're heading straight back to the Sanctum Imperialis to find the Primarch, am I clear, David?"

"Yes Ma'am…Thank you, Amberley, I sincerely appreciate this."

—

The coordinates we arrived at were as barren as they were the last time I was here. Instead of it simply being a ranch with a dry section now, it was part of the wastes outside of the Hive City that San Antonio became. No more green grass or desert shrubbery, only dirt and sand.

I like to think that Christ did me a favor, as the wind shifted, and a massive dune shifted, revealing the entrance to a place that my dad and I had only ever brainstormed about. Guess he went through with it after all.

Raya busted open the door, a safe door that probably belonged to the bank that was going out of business the year I was taken, and we made our way inside. Time hadn't been kind. Sand had eroded away the little things that my dad would've put up. American and Texas Flags, Dallas Cowboys merch, and Cars…there should've been thousands of model cars on the walls, but now it was all rust. Reddish powder lumped at the floor.

I took a moment. To stand there, and let myself grieve properly. I thought of the times my father and I would sit on the back porch, talking guns and how his experiences growing up a hunter differed from my more combat oriented training. I would remember speaking with my mother, about the stories of the Bible and how they affected me at the time. I remembered throwing snow at my sister the few times it fell, about helping her when her first dog passed. I remembered my brothers, my two brothers, neither of them were neuro-typical, but they were geniuses. I prayed for them, for their children that I never met, and the generations that followed. After a while, I wiped my tears and continued forward.

Raya's armor's integrated luminator provided our main source of light as we entered the final room of my father's bunker, and the armory that lay within.

"….is that you, David?" I could hear the machine voice wake up. Groggy from millennia of hibernation, shock and disbelief.

"Raya, get this door open please." I asked, and she performed admirably, tearing the rusted door out of its frame effortlessly.

I walked in and took in the room. Pop was never as into collecting an armory as I was, but he grew up poor in the Valley, so that means he never sold anything. I know he kept most of my stuff with him…but he kept one rifle here.

"The Avtomat Kalashnikova model of 1974 was the next step in the evolution of the AK series of rifles…Designed to counteract issues that they were encountering in the Soviet-Afghan War, Victor here, is a Bulgarian civilian model. The SAM-5 from Arsenal Bulgaria, and he is chambered in 5.56x45mm cartridge. And I tricked the shit out of him with a number of upgraded parts, custom four port muzzle brake, angled foregrip, side-rail mount, and a holographic sight." I let my gun nerd flag fly for a moment, before the smirk is wiped off my face by the voice of the very rifle I was talking up.

"David…I am certainly very glad that you still take such pride in me, however…I am a LADY! Thank you very much."

"….Victoria then."

"Thank you, David. WAIT YOU CAN HEAR ME ?!"

Vail, deciding that she had enough of this lunacy, decided we should get going.

"Pack her up and whatever else that you can find in here, Foothill. We have a Primarch to find."

We returned to the Imperial Palace with haste. I will admit to having a childish grin on my face at having another keepsake from home back in my possession, but Vail kept us mostly on task. Mostly.

"Look, there's an Imperial Fist Centurion around here that is suspiciously large and hasn't spoken a word in nearly ten millennia. There can't be more than a few people in this palace that match that description, Karstodes." Raya was arguing with her brother, who, unfortunately, was indeed refusing to wear his armor save for his helmet.

"So many words, yet none of them explain why I should care, Raya." The companion spoke, and I could see his two brothers in Swole perched like gargoyles on some of the elevated stonework.

"Because I will set you on fire if you don't help out! Not to mention I'll tell Father about what you three did to Santodes' Dreadnought! " Oh that got them moving.

"You wouldn't dare." Wamuudes spoke after dropping down to ground level. Raya simply tapped her spear shaft on the ground.

"I have centuries of dirt on you three Hedonists. I've kept my mouth shut because you're my brothers and I love you three idiots, but that doesn't mean I won't light a fire under your asses when things need to get done. Am I clear ?!" Raya shouted at the three, doing her best impression of a drill sergeant with their kill hat on full display.

" YES SHIELD CAPTAIN! " Damn do those three consciously try to stay in synch or are they like my brothers who did it unconsciously. Oop Raya's yelling again.

"Then get your oily asses moving! I want that Primarch found yesterday !" She shouted, and the three culprits launched away. I felt my eyes drift to the floor where they were standing.

"Good God they've left a puddle of oil on the floor where they stood." I muttered, earning a heavy forlorn sigh from Raya and a nod of her head.

"Yes, they do that. But they're family, and as much as they deserve a serious wake-up call, they're useful. If anyone can at the very least annoy a primarch into revealing themselves its those three."

—

Y'know. With how often I'd been spitting in Murphy's eye, I would've known better than to think I was safe in my own bloody homeworld.

The Sanctum Imperialis really is a massive structure. Spanning endless miles under the surface of Everest. I'm not sure when or how I got separated from Raya, but I did find myself alone in the massive halls, and quite terribly turned around.

"…shit." I muttered, looking around at the corridor around me. It was suspiciously empty. Nary a custodian in sight. I turned on my heel to try and go back the way I came to come face to helm with a Sister of Silence. She pointed over my shoulder further down the tunnel.

"Are we doing some mafioso bullshit now?" I grumbled, earning an aggressively fingerspelled 'G-O' for my trouble.

"Fine, I'm going I'm going." I responded curtly, signing 'rude' as I turned.

'Bitch.' She signed, then shoved me further down the corridor.

As I walked the Sister seemed to vanish until I was once again on my own in the maze-like corridors of the Sanctum Imperialis. Twenty, maybe thirty minutes of walking, and getting shoved whenever I stopped to look around. Eventually, while I'm still in a corridor, I can hear and feel the air shift as something massive moves behind me. Nary a footstep even as I have to lean backward to look into the eye lenses of the Centurion.

"…how in the Hell do you manage stealth in twelve tons of Ceramite, M'lord Dorn?"

" I am very quiet." A massive hand reaches up and removes the power helm, revealing a clean shaven face and grayed hair perfectly maintained within regulations.

There was a certain presence to the Primarch. An air of authority and power. Strength and intelligence.

"Your spacial awareness needs improvement, you are slow, you are not using the Silver Carapace to the best of its capabilities, and…you are squishy." The Primarch speaks, and I feel my pride sting a bit. But I know his criticisms ring true.

"You sent the companions to find me. They failed. The Shield-Captain failed to not get led away by the Silent Sisters. She failed. You offered no resistance to the Silent Sister. You did not find me. I found you. I gave you multiple chances to discern my presence. I overestimated your capabilities. I would think that someone who was summoned to Holy Terra for an Audience with my Father's Bones would be more… capable." Deadpan delivery, not so much as a blink or a second to breathe between sentences. I stepped back a bit as to not have to tilt my head as much and he followed me, not allowing me additional distance.

I cleared my throat and began to speak, suddenly all the more aware that this being could reduce me to paste in a tenth of a second.

"I do what I can…and strive to be a little better each day. Sometimes I fail at that, I'll admit. But my purpose in looking for you was not to simply do so. The way you phrased my summons to the Golden Throne tells me you haven't been in the Throne Room recently. Not in the last four weeks at least." Not a fucking twitch in those eyes. No glint of intrigue or even a blink.

"No."

"I would recommend reporting in, my lord. You've been AWOL for almost nine millennia, and with the Emperor having regained his vocal cords, you're welcome, by the way, I'm sure he has orders for you." Finally some reaction. He blinked, and his natural resting frown quirked just a hair further downward.

"If you are lying to me. I will remove your liver with my hands." Dorn Spoke, before stepping to one side and directing me back towards the way I came. "Walk."

And so I walked. I walked with the Primarch of the Imperial Fists following me, his helm back in place to conceal his face. It must've been a comical sight, seeing a barely six foot human being followed by a massive nearly 20 foot tall walking tank. As we were making our way to the throne room we were approached by the three Companions.

"Ah, Foothill, I see you've found our wayward Pri-" Wamuudes began to speak, and I cut him off hurriedly and with all the bravado and anger I could muster.

"You keep your daggum mouth shut, the three of you! He found me, and made it perfectly clear that I'm not up to standards yet. He has his reasons for keeping quiet, so you three should respect that. And if you don't, well. I believe your sister is standing right behind the three of you." Y'know. I never really noticed how tall Raya was in her armor until I saw her positively Loom over the three Pillarstodes like my mother when she found out I got a B.

"While ninety percent of the Palace ignores whatever comes out of your mouths, that remaining Ten Percent can be troublesome to our ongoing operations. So do as the hubby says, and keep your ab-licking mouths shut. " Raya growled out, a hand on the shoulder of Wamuudes and Custodisi, essentially squishing Karstodes with his brothers.

"You would know something about Ab-Licking, wouldn't you Ray-"

" YEET !" I don't think she realized she said it, myself, but the three Oligarchs of Oil caught some air and a decent amount of distance.

" You can silence me but you can't silence the truth!" Wamuudes, I believe, called before there was a distant crash of something fleshy hitting a wall.

" Impressive distance, but your accuracy requires refinement, Shield Captain." Dorn spoke, leading Raya to give a nod, her body language screaming fluster.

"Thank you, M'lord. Shall we continue to the Throne Room?"

" Yes."

The Captain General must not have expected us back so soon, as his head tilted like a curious puppy when we approached.

"Interrogator, Lictor, you've brought company I see." He speaks, and I find my patience waning.

"Lord Rogal Dorn found us. Told me I can't do my duty worth spit, now we're here so he doesn't perform surgery on me with his hands because he hasn't seen his dad since the rejuvenation. Let me in, please. I like my new liver where it is, where I can't see it."

"….go on in."

The reunion of Primarch and Emperor was…underwhelming, to be honest.

"I was wondering why we haven't had more incursions here. Now I know why." The Emperor spoke, his emaciated form shifting on the Throne to get a better look at his son.

"I have been fortifying the Imperial Palace against the Ruinous Powers with the assistance of the Silent Sisters, Father. We have been quite effective." Dorn spoke, "you have regained some of your flesh. I no longer have to remove the Interrogator's liver."

"Oh thank you, Jesus." I muttered in relief, earning a bark of laughter from said Savior who was carving something in the corner of the room. With a quick bow, I began inching my way towards the door. "If I may take my leave, I'm going to get out of here before I get any more surprise alterations to my body."

I booked it out of there when I saw that glint of mischief in the Emperor's eye. Fuck that shit .

"Bitch I will open your third eye out of spite !" I heard as the Captain-General urged the gates shut. The Captain-General's faceplate turned to me slowly.

"I think he likes you, Interrogator." I swear I could hear a damn smirk under his helm.

—

How the hell did I manage to get separated from Raya again?!

How the hell did I manage to get outside?! There was something warpy going on I swear it. I will admit, however, that I did enjoy the view of the Massive city-scape that was the Imperial Palace.

For about ten seconds.

"Behind you, lyubim! (Beloved)" Victoria called, and I was too damn slow to do anything but curse.

I felt a shift in the air and a pair of mancatchers snap around my neck and I'm dragged into darkness by a pair of chittering hunchbacks laughing in hissing voices. Skaven. They're not supposed to be here!

" The plague father wants the time jumper! To the skittergate!" Oh Fuck That. I dug my heels in and fought like hell. Even enhanced as I was the fucking ratmen dragged me at a speed enough that the world blurred around me. It wasn't until the smooth pathways turned to rough rock that I managed to get enough footing to take hold of one of the mancatchers and ripped it out of the damned thing's hands. It was enough to startle the other to a stop, and the fight began in earnest.

Without the additional protection of Silver's helm, I was restricted to the baseline enhancement offered by the Carapace. It was enough to break the mancatchers around my neck now that I had my feet properly under me. One of the Skaven began chanting and his eyes glowed a sickly green. I lunged and launched an uppercut into his chin with as much force and power I could muster.

I could feel the augmetic fibers in my muscle pulse like the pistons of an engine firing as my fist contacted his chin, slamming his jaw shut with enough force to turn it into bone fragments that scattered upwards into his brain like buckshot. Whatever power he was gathering fizzled out in green sparks as his brain splattered against the wall.

The other Skaven lunged, lashing at me with teeth and a knife the length of my forearm. I blocked and grappled with the damn thing. It's beady red eyes and gnashing teeth near glowing in the darkness. His knife sparked off the Carapace and lit up the cave. He was stronger than the average human, and I could feel the impact of his strikes bouncing against the armor, bruising the flesh beneath. I caught his wrist and his teeth latched around my own wrist. With my other hand I grabbed hold of his jaw and wrenched.

The tendons of his jaw tore and like Samson of old I beat his skull in with his own Jawbone. I swung, growling and cursing in every language I knew until I was pounding wet chunks of bone into the floor.

Panting, exhausted, and covered in blood and offal, I took a proper look at my surroundings and found that I couldn't see shit . But I could hear water, and smell something awful terrible. As I settled up against the wall to catch my breath, I felt the realization dawn on me. And I hated it.

"Sewer Count: Too Fucken Many." I muttered, unslinging Victoria from my shoulder and running her action. Rough and Gritty from Time and Neglect. I would have preferred to give her something more proper to drink, but the skaven's blood was greasy enough that it should work enough for now. "You think you're gonna be able to fight with this, Vicky?" I asked, applying some of the morbid grease to the rails of her action and bolt, whispering prayers of forgiveness and protection.

"I spent Eons in that bunker, David. I refuted the Plague Father for Thirty-Eight Thousand years, I will continue to refute him now. Now shut up and lube me up, Darling. And pray that the ammunition from the shuttle is as stubborn as I am." Victoria declared, and I racked her now butter smooth action into battery, who's sound echoed down the dampened tunnels.

"Let's just hope I find us a way out of this Shithole…Fuck I wish Raya were here."

—

"We've got thirty-one rounds of ammunition. No Power, Strength, or Armor protocols, I can barely see, we've got God Knows how many Skaven down here with us, my vox-bead isn't working, and there's a goddamn skittergate around here somewhere. If we find that thing we're going to have to take care of it somehow. Without opening a chaos incursion in the process, and figure out how to exterminate the rats before they get a foothold, if they haven't already." I muttered, standing up and setting into a low ready. "Fuck it. Why not? Not like I haven't done anything less crazy since I've gotten here. No support, No resupply I can trust not to give my gun Uber Herpes, no wife, no team. Just me and my rifle."

"More than enough, lyubim, I assure you." Vicky, ever supportive, chirped.

I walked slowly. Head twitching at every noise and movement. I prayed that I would find a way out before I found the Skaven. Or the Skaven found me.

As I walked, my eyes adjusted and I could see more of the sewer system I found myself in. It was massive, obviously, but it was obvious that it had fallen out of repair. Instead of solid walkways on the sides of the greywater flow it was akin to a stream flowing in a cave that almost seemed natural. Issue is, I could see the telltale signs of the Ratmen. Patches of blood and fur from some of their constant squabbling, the sigil of the Horned Rat, and y'know, the Skaven gunner spinning up his damn gatling-gun at the end of the corridor.

I snapped Vicky up and launched two rounds into him. Her muzzle brake fills the corridor and the concussion blasts my hair back. The light allows me to see more of the Skaven's buddies poking out of the side tunnels and gathering weapons.

Shit.

Thirty rounds goes quick when you're double or triple tapping to make sure giant bipedal rats stay down you fuckers! - BA-BANG-CLK- .

Shit.

"Fuck!" I snarled out, utilizing Vicky's buttstock to crack the skull of a lunging Skaven. "Fuck you! I'll tear you apart with my bare hands if I have to!" I stomped down on the head of the skaven Vicky knocked to the ground with a chunky crunch.

Melee now. A club snaps against my arm and I catch a claw swipe that almost took my ear, but rent three lines aross the side of my scalp. I threw him at his compatriot with an angry snarl and a follow up smash with Vicky's stock for each of the two grounded rats.

Another skaven jumped on my back and tried to stab at my throat, I tried to throw him off but he wrapped his damn tail around my throat.

So, channeling my inner Angron, with a choked roar I grabbed the tail in one hand, pinned the ratman with my boot, and ripped that fucker's tail off. I then proceeded to strangle him with it.

I will admit that I was rather angry at this point, and having to get into fisticuffs with these furry diseased bastards poked a nerve that only violence could soothe.

Atta Boy!

The Red Haze faded with the snap of the Skaven's neck. Once more, I was left covered in blood, exhausted, and frustrated.

Why? Because I could hear that Goddamned Skittergate further down the line.

"I hate this Millenium, Victoria."

"Agreed."

So, I really didn't want to have to solo a skittergate. Even more so without any ammunition. Still I didn't have a choice in the matter.

"You're going to have to fight like old Brown taught you, David." Vicky spoke, a bit of remorse in her tone at not being able to be of use.

"Brown had an MP5 and a SWAT team to back him up. I gotta fight like my Daddy." I muttered, earning a scoff from Vicky.

"Tournament fighting won't do us much good, Darling."

"That ain't what I'm saying, Vicky." I sighed, slinging her onto my shoulder. "Pop won all those tourneys sure. But that's 'cause he fought mean. So, I gotta be the meanest son of a bitch in these tunnels for the next hour or so." As I spoke I cracked my neck and shook off the remains of fur and offal from my hands. Started psyching myself up, freaking hate rats as is, these giant things made it easy to get angry, I felt the adrenaline response surge, my new heart beat faster, and I felt my arms and legs tense.

C'mon boy.

Something is causing that Red Haze to come up faster, I shake it away and settle into a low stance. Going berserk won't help anything. I just need the adrenaline. C'mon you newfangled kidneys do your job. There was a sound like gas escaping a CO2 cartridge and I found a spark of unnatural rage surge through me and a heat spread through my veins like liquid fire.

HA! How do you like the taste of Frenzon, Boy!

God Dammit Yanbel! I sucked in a hissing breath between my teeth as my hands shook and energy coursed through my veins. Fuck it. Pins and needles and that liquid fire feeling spread until I couldn't do anything but run . I ran like hell. Whatever drug my kidneys hit me with allowed me to see better, and run just that bit faster.

There was a sentry on a turnoff that led to the sound of warp fuckery and green light. I hit him with Vicky's buttstock so hard the top half of his head ripped away.

Thirty seconds. Thirty seconds is how long that dose lasted before my hands stopped shaking and the fire in my veins cooled. During that thirty seconds, hell broke loose. Vicky is screaming obscenities in Bulgarian, I'm throwing Skaven at other Skaven. I swear that I caught a spear that was thrown at me and threw it back at one of 'em, pinning him to the wall like a morbid gargoyle. The light from the Skittergate was growing brighter now. Bright and Eerie, it bathed the tunnels in a baleful green glow. My head is throbbing, but my hands aren't shaking and I could begin to actually make sense of the actions I was taking. As well as feel the bruises forming from where the Skaven had managed to hit, but the Carapace held.

The bruises tell me I was hit in my lower right abdomen, my right shoulder, and the small of my back. The three scratches on the side of my skull are now joined by a myriad of small cuts that bleed and sting like hell. My hands hurt. My knuckles are bruised to shit. My clothes are torn to rags, except for the Carapace.

Man am I glad I left my hat on the ship.

I could properly see the Skittergate now. It was suspended in the center of the cavern with massive chains and was wide enough to fit a small vehicle through. A wooden rope bridge led to the center of it. There was a squad of the ratmen standing guard, and a Stormvermin officer. I could hear their chittering.

" The man-kin is here, Sir! We smell the blood of the other clankin. We must flush out the time-jumper!" One of the smaller ratkin pleaded with the Stormvermin, who backhanded the clankin. The Stormvermin wore red armor and wielded a large spear with what looked like a ceramite head.

" He will come to us! There is no advantage in thinning our horde even more, the warlock has yet to return, so the gate will remain dormant. We are on our own, but we outnumber the man-kin eight to one. When he comes here. We will kill him, and eat well. The plague father only needs his soul, not his body." The Stormvermin straightened up and tapped the shaft of his spear on the ground. " You hear me, Man-kin?! We will feast on your flesh! I will fornicate with your eye socket!"

Before or after you drink wine from it? Urk, bad image. Did Slaanesh get a hold of the Skaven too? With how many of them there are I wouldn't doubt it.

Still, I wasn't rabid anymore, and I was able to be quiet. Eight of 'em. Supposedly. I could only see six, but the other two could be around. I figured I was covered in enough gore to hide my scent, so I stayed in the shadows.

I tried to inch my way towards the left side of the cavern, so as to scramble my way up to the anchor point of the gate. If I could snap a link, or loosen the anchor, it would crash to the ground, God willing it would shatter on impact.

I low-crawled amidst the dirt against the far wall. Keeping one eye on the six ratmen I could see and my head on a swivel for the other two that the Stormvermin mentioned. I found one of them. Grabbed him before he could alert the others and-

- rrrrip-

ATTA BOY!

Okay I need to learn my strength more with these new muscles I just wanted to break his neck, not tear the damn thing off. Khorne has enough damn skulls. I let out a silent sigh before continuing my movement. At least there's only seven of them now.

I was halfway up the chain when the other hidden Skaven lunged at my back, screeching bloody murder. I landed a kick on his chest that sent him back to the ground with a bone cracking crunch. While this may be satisfying to some it exposed my position, and I had to enter a climb off against rats. Rats. Climb up your wall and make a nest in your ceiling Rats !

The first one to catch me was the Stormvermin, cackling like Rakel when she would get into the Amasec and swinging that spear at me with glee. I caught the shaft of the spear and slammed my foot into his helmeted muzzle about five times.

"I. fucken. Hate. RATS! " I snarled out with each strike, the final one getting him to relinquish the spear to me entirely. A boon for sure, if two others hadn't jumped at me in that time. They dragged me off of the chain and we went crashing to the floor, one of them got himself skewered in the fall, but I still had to wrestle the other. Not to mention the other four.

I booted the clankin off of my chest but not without getting my head snapped to one side due to the swing of a crude club strike that sent my ears ringing. I staggered my way to my feet and got my fists back up with a snarl.

"Come on then! I'll take you all on!" I shouted, sending a right cross into the Stormvermin's jaw. It staggered him, but one of his buddies managed to circle around me and stab me in the side, must've been a ceramite knife.

It was a lancing pain that spurred another spike in adrenaline that I utilized to its fullest. I took hold of the stabby Ratkin and hurled him at his brothers. I intercepted another clankin lunging at me and I utilized the oldest and most storied of human weaponry.

A big fucking rock.

I slammed his head into one of the larger rocks sticking out of the ground until I saw brains.

Three left.

"On your six, David!" Thank you Vicky. I whirled back with a spinning wheel kick that ripped the head off of another lunging clankin.

Two left, Stabby and Stormvermin. I spit out a wad of blood onto the dirt and settle into a fighting stance once more.

"I am going to shove your head," I declare, pointing at the Stormvermin, "Up his ass." I pointed at stabby.

" And I am going to fuck your skull." Okay, he dies first.

Easier said than done, Stabby is the simple objective, I get a hit square on his temple. He goes to the ground out cold in half a second.

The Stormvermin, however, was tricky. He was skilled, and his claws tore a line across my forehead and one nearly took my left eye. He uses his tail like a whip, he tries to bite at my neck, I block as much as I can, eventually I catch his wrist in a grip that he can't worm his way out of. My other hand lunges forward and grasps him by his throat. I can see fear finally set into his beady little eyes.

"I made a promise to you, Ratkin." I growl out. "And thou shalt not lie."

I'm bleeding, exhausted, and there's a knife sticking out of the side of my body. I slump against the wall of the cavern. This skittergate has got to just be a scouting post. Less than thirty Skaven, not even an advance force. How the hell was I going to take this thing down. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the pain was getting worse, and I was getting worried about poison. Not to mention the countless diseases that the Ratkin could've transferred through the knife and their claws. God knows how many bugs Skull-Fucker the Stormvermin had. My musings were cut short by the welcome vibration of my comm-bead in my ear, must've been high enough that signal could finally reach.

" David where the bloody hell are you?!" Vail asks, and I spit out a wad of blood before responding, triple tapping my comm-bead to give off the SOS beacon.

"We have a pest problem underneath the Palace. I dealt with most of it. But I am severely under equipped to destroy the nest. Also, I got stabbed." I reported, finally letting myself relax a little bit.

"... We're receiving your beacon, and we're en route. Stay put, David. I'll be sure to bring along some fireworks."

"Melta Charges?" I ask, trying to keep that childish giddiness that you get when you deal with pyrotechnics out of my voice.

" Venters' Personal Stash."

"Best Boss I've ever had, Amberley."

I was furloughed onto the Exterminatus for surgery, so I wasn't present for the absolute scouring of the tunnels for any further Skaven presence. Judging by the absolutely livid look on Raya's face when they found me, I figured things would be well in hand.

-Audio taken from Adeptus Custodes Operation Pest Control, M41-

" TAKE MY HUSBAND?! NEST IN MY HOUSE?! KILL THEM ALL!"

"It was just a mortal, Ray-"

" SHUT UP AND PURGE THE ALIENS, KARSTODES!"

-Further audio of Lady Custodian Raya's counter offensive against the Skaven enclave on Terra censored for excessive violence by order of Lady Inquisitor Amberley Vail.-

The medicae cleared me after a two hour surgery. I was doped to the gills with painkillers and antibiotics to keep any diseases that the skaven may have infected me with. I wasn't worried after a particularly warm breeze that hit me after a prayer requesting healing, in a sealed room.

I was able to attend to Vicky properly at this point, and I am glad I did.

"My Lord, I put you through the wringer, didn't I?" I muttered under my breath, disassembling Victoria into her main pieces. Dust cover, Telescoping Recoil Spring, Gas Piston, Bolt Carrier and Gas tube. She was covered in Skaven blood and grease, and I could see spots of surface rust and carbon fouling.

"It's not your fault, Darling. We worked with what was available, but I would appreciate a proper cleaning and oiling." She responded, and I could hear a sheepish smile in her tone.

"No worries."

Victoria is a Bulgarian SAM-5, a milled receiver AK-74, she's chambered in 5.56 x 45mm NATO, she's fitted with a JMAC Customs 4 port Compensator, an aluminum MMS MLOK Handguard fit with a stubby vertical grip, and a fixed stock that I had kept factory. I appreciated that fact, because if I had gone with the skeletonized or folding options, with how hard I had smacked those Skaven with it, I would've snapped anything not rock solid.

When cleaning a firearm, you ideally have enough time and equipment to go over every piece individually. I went over each of her pieces with a dry rag first to get the excess blood and offal off. After that I soaked the loose pieces in a tub of promethium. Grandpa David taught me with Kerosene, and I experimented with the fuel of the Imperium about six months into my adventure here. I discovered that it worked so much faster and as long as there were no flames in the area, I was extra careful of that for obvious reasons.

" Greetings, Little Smith!" oh fuck!

"Venters you snuff whatever flames you have on you before you come in here!" I called out, earning a chuckle as the large black and green armored form entered the room.

" Worry not, David. I could smell it going through the vents." Venters laughed, and settled up against the wall as I let out a relieved sigh and got to work scrubbing at Victoria, who was letting out satisfied purrs at the attention. " You're beginning to earn some proper scars, I see." He comments, gesturing towards the stitches running across the side of my scalp and the line across my forehead.

"I get through three campaigns without a major injury, the moment I'm on my own, I get stabbed and clawed up by a bunch of fucken rats." I sighed out, running a cleaning rod down Vicky's barrel and bringing her up to my eyes to inspect her bore for anymore fouling. Her rifling sparkled like a mirror sheen.

" You've grown accustomed to squad work. Not unusual for most guardsmen." Venters spoke, poking a finger into the tub of promethium. " In addition, you're used to being well equipped, with multiple weapons on your person."

"I got cocky. Smart thing to do would've been to retreat, find a way out." I placed Vicky down on the worktable and brought my focus to Venters. His red lenses analyzed me, looking for something.

" Yet you didn't. Because you knew that if you did, it would leave the possibility that the aliens could attack civilians." He spoke, and I shook my head with a chuckle.

"I don't like people dying, sure, but I won't say that's why I did what I did in those tunnels. I was just… angry. The idea of backing out of that fight seemed… shameful." I confessed, clenching my hands into fists. "It's getting worse too. Every fight, every conflict, I call it a Red Haze. It helps me fight, ignore pain, but I'm flying off the handle."

" Fury is a weapon, David. You're wielding it like a club. I will teach you to use it like a sword." Venters declared, before pausing a moment. " You also need a sword, now that I think about it."

"I'm a gunsmith, not a swordsmith, Venters."

" Irrelevant, you'll learn. Finish up, then meet me in the armory. It's time you learn how to handle the forge."

-Administratum Transcription of Interrogator David James Foothill's blacksmithing lesson with Deathwatch Sergeant Venters of the Salamanders-

- the sound of a door opening up and the rush of hot air escaping an enclosed area-

IDJF : I'm so glad I suited up completely.

DSV: Scared of a little fire, Little Smith?

IDJF: You call that 'Little'?

DSV: This is a light duty Salamander's Forge, David. You should be honored to even look upon it.

IDJF: Oh believe me on the inside I'm nerding out like nothing else. Out of all of the Legions, I respect the Salamanders the most.

DSV: Flattery won't save you, Little Smith. Pick up the tongs and hammer. You have much to learn, and I won't have my brothers teasing me for training an inadequate smith.

IDJF: The wonder-filled nerd inside of me is cheering. The realist is screaming that this is going to suck.

DSV: Tell them both to shut up and listen.

IDJF: -Forlorn Sigh-

-The following nine hour lecture has been censored for the preservation of chapter secrets by order of Deathwatch Sergeant Venters of the Salamanders, excerpts have been declassified under the reasoning of: Comedy.-

IDJF: I can't mold steel with my fingers, Venters!

DSV: That's quitter talk. Quitter talk is not allowed in my workshop.

-Loud flaring of a gushing flame-

IDJF: Dangummit blasting me in the face with a hand flamer isn't going to make me learn any faster!

DSV: All evidence to the contrary. Now mold the steel, Apprentice.

IDJF: -The string of expletives released by David James Foothill spanned two minutes, six languages, and violated eight sanctions on violent speech in Terran Airspace.-

—

DSV: You must be careful to heat the metal through completely in order for the heat treatment to take, David.

IDJF: I'm getting heat treated at this point, Venters!

DSV: Good, maybe you'll harden enough to stop bitching. You're staying in that forge until that metal is golden brown, by Vulkan I'll hold you there myself if need be.

—

-The sound of metal scraping against metal rings throughout the forge as Interrogator David James Foothill is sharpening a large blade with a whetstone-

IDJF: How am I supposed to put a monomolecular edge on this without a microscope?

DSV: Time, patience, and actually working instead of griping.

IDJF: I haven't slept in three days!

DSV: Be proud at how quickly this has gone. Some initiates take years to forge their first blade.

IDJF: I swear I will convince your armor to lock you in a T-Pose in the middle of the mess.

DSV: And I will dump a bucket of burning promethium on you right before your next sortie.

IDJF: ….This ain't over.

DSV: I don't understand why you're wasting energy complaining and not sharpening. Back to it.

—

I staggered back to quarters barely coherent, finding Raya racking up her weaponry from her counter offensive. I stumbled over to the desk, removed Silver's Helmet, and stabbed the work of the last four days into the desk. It proudly gleamed in the dim lighting of the room before I collapsed into my bed groaning.

"David." Raya spoke, taking a seat on the bed. "I have questions."

"That is a Thirteen Inch long, Full Tang, Adamantine Bayonet with a K-Bar style blade. Marine's best friend. Integrated into the handle is a heavy hand guard that can act as a knuckleduster…and you wanna know the worst part? I'm not done!" I groaned out, planting my face into the bedding and letting out a muffled scream of frustration. "I start on the power sword tomorrow! I don't know shit about molecular disruption fields!"

"There, there, David." Raya tried to soothe me, patting my head softly. "But that wasn't what I was going to ask…why are you brown?"

"I was always brown! Being on this ship and out of the sun for nearly two years my white genes took over. I spent four days in a Salamander's forge. A good chunk of which on fire . Silver took the brunt of it, but I'm back to my Mejicano pallor from the tan."

"I knew you would tan but I didn't expect to this extent."

"My mother would get mistaken for black the moment we went further north than Corpus Christi. I spend enough time inside I look white. I spend a summer outside helping mi abuelo fix trucks in the sun I look Mexican until winter…I'm going to pass out now. I only got nine hours before I'm back at it….and that's him already being generous." I muttered before collapsing into the sheets entirely.

" Got a heart on fire,

Got a wind at my back,

Singing, Hallelujah, I'm free at last,

Every day I'm running home."

And darkness takes me.

I wish I could say I was pulled away from Venters' Workshop by good news.

"We were just there ! Why didn't we find any when we were getting Vicky?!" I exclaimed, slamming a fist onto Vail's desk in frustration.

"We didn't enter the Hive Ruin proper. They likely hid themselves the moment we approached. That's not important, we know they're there now. The Custodians have wiped out their presence in the palace, and are scouring the eastern continent of Holy Terra. We have been assigned the western continent with the orders of, and I quote;

' Clean up your own House, Foothill .'" Vail spoke, taking a swig from a bottle of Amasec and slamming the bottle down onto her desk.

"And by 'We' I mean you. You started this mess. By the Throne you'll fix it." Vail declared with authority, not a single hint of drunkenness in her tone I swear.

-Note from Inquisitor Amberley Vail: a particularly concentrated vintage I had procured within the Palace.-

"How am I supposed to clear an entire Skaven infestation on my own?!"

"You're an Interrogator of the Ordo Xenos. You have an Aquillan Shield. Figure it out." Vail shot back before shooing me out of her office, whose door slammed shut with authority. I let out a heavy sigh before straightening up and turning to face Raya and Venters, who had been dragged along to the debriefing.

"Is it worrisome that my first thought was to stir the ship into a crusade again?" I asked, earning a bark of a laugh from Venters and I could hear a muffled snort from Raya.

"Well, she didn't tell you not to do that. And we will need the numbers." Raya spoke, feigning thoughtfulness but the grin on her face gave it away. I let a bloodthirsty grin grow on my face.

"Good. We're about to get some proper 'purging of the xenos' done for once, having a proper fighting force this time around might actually make this fun." I spoke, and turned to Raya. "Raya dear, would you please gather the Sisters of the Order of the Lance? I got an Idea."

—

I had made it a point to keep my helm on when in plain view whilst back on the Exterminatus. So while a few of the upper brass had seen the new 'do and my scars, the general crew of the ship had yet to bear witness.

I had put out a call for Volunteers. Because while twelve jump pack equipped Seraphim were effective, I would need more to fight a Skaven Horde than the Lance Sisters and my normal squad.

I had expected maybe a couple squads worth. First to show up was obviously Anya, Piotr, Triton, Soline, and Lena, shortly followed by her Sisters.

The Order of the Lance once consisted of a humble dozen sisters. Not counting their Canoness. Evidently they had done some recruiting whilst on board. A platoon of green power-armored bodies marched into the mess in Parade formation. They had painted their white power armor into a dark forest green with gold trim, pauldrons proudly emblazoned with the visage of the Lance of Longinus. A few of them had even fashioned Bolt-Lances reminiscent of Raya's own, if shortened to fit the stature of an unmodified human.

Two Seraphim stood at the head of each ten woman squad, they held a bolt lance in one hand and I could see Repentia's sisters at their hips. Faith, Fury, and Fire, indeed.

The next group of people to filter in wore red. A lot of red.

Holy shit that is a lot of tech adepts.

They were, of course, headed by Yanbel. He hefted an Omnisian Glaive and made his way to us whilst the assembly of tech-adepts organized themselves into platoons and squadrons.

"Good Christ , Yanbel, did you leave anyone to keep the ship running?" I asked him, shock reverberating through my tone, earning that crinkle around his eye lenses that told me he was smiling as his shoulders bounced in silent laughter.

"My friend, this is who I didn't have to turn away. The mechanicus takes care of its own. Or at the very least, those of us here on the Exterminatus do." Yanbel replied, gesturing to the sea of red assembled on the eastern half of the mess hall with his glaive.

"My pilgrimage doesn't start until next year." I deadpanned. Yanbel simply patted me on the shoulder before replying,

"My friend, you've been considered an initiate since your first blueprint went into production." He said, and I felt my eyes roll as I turned back to the growing mass of people.

"There's no way that's all crew from the Exterminatus. Last I saw we didn't have skitarii." Raya commented, looking over the assembled force with a critical eye.

"We may have been reinforced by the priesthood present on Holy Terra when the Captain General relayed the Omnissiah's decree to us." He legitimately seemed sheepish, I'll admit that much. Still.

"This is way more than I expected. At least right off the bat anyway. Here come the guardsmen." I stated, a little shaken.

The guardsmen were the middle ground of the bunch in terms of volume, but they had a fervor to them that matched the Sisters. I recognized many of them from those that had fought on Graia, and I could see a familiar face in the mass, grinning up at me with a tap onto his breastplate.

I had thought he was just a trooper, as he had worn a full face helmet when he shoved the carapace chest plate I now wore into my hands those two years ago. Now I got a proper look at his face, dark hair and violet eyes that almost seemed to glow. He stood at the head of a platoon consisting of forty men and women. I could count a dozen different planets and regiments in the armor and patterns of weaponry, yet they stood side by side as if they were born next to one another. Three more platoons filtered in, just as diverse as the first. Except for one. Valhallan Ice Warriors, headed by a female lieutenant whose bright blonde ponytail seemed awful familiar. I waved up the lieutenants to join my compatriots overlooking the assembled force.

"The Inquisitor really has a penchant for being a melting pot, huh?" I commented to Yanbel as the lieutenants made their way to us. Once again his shoulders shook in silent laughter.

The lieutenants reached us moments later. Three men and two women, heading the group, was the Cadian. I would place him in his early thirties, he wore full body carapace armor, and had his helmet tucked under his arm. On his shoulder hung a Hellgun, on his hip a standard Militarum Combat Blade sat in its sheath, and his breastplate held the symbols of the Kasrkin.

Following him up was the blonde Valhallan, she was in the summer fatigues of her regiment, she was tall. About 6'2" or 6'3" I would guess. She had long blonde hair tied into a ponytail that ran down past her shoulders, and an eager grin on her face.

Next was the kind of woman my mother would want me to stay as far away from as possible. She wore a vest that showed her rank and regiment, but left it unfastened, giving Rakel a run for her money in the amount of Décolletage she showed. Her fatigue pants were a size too small and she had two belts of stubber ammunition cris-crossing her waist. She had a mean face, but not unattractive, a large amount of 'step on you and you'll thank her for it' energy. She had black hair shaved into a short Mohawk and piercings along her left ear.

Next was a man from Catachan if I've ever seen one. Shaven head and a muscled body crisscrossed with scars. He wore a vest denoting his rank as well, but kept it fastened and I could see the bundles of power packs and the signature Catachan Devil Sword on his hip. He also must've subscribed to the school of using ammunition belts as clothing as his pants were held up with belts of what looked like 30-06.

Finally, the last lieutenant was clad head to toe in sealed armor with a masked helmet. His helm had the face of a saint whom I couldn't recognize, but he held himself with a fervor that made me grin beneath my helm. I straightened up and addressed them.

"I need your names, ranks, regiments, if you please." I asked.

The Cadian spoke first.

"Second Lieutenant Kent, 1st Inquisitorial Misfit Regiment." He spoke, back straight and that explained the unfamiliar insignia on his pauldron.

"Never heard of you." I deadpanned, earning a chuckle.

"Officially, Interrogator, we don't exist. According to the Administratum, I died back home on Cadia in '929. All of our regiment stories are like that. Soldiers who slipped the cracks, tried to go back, and got harangued by the Administratum's red tape. Inquisition rounded up enough of us over time that we organized ourselves into regiments. We have six regiments now, all of them consisting of numerous homeworlds and specialties. We reinforce the Inquisition's shock troops." Kent spoke, pride in his voice. I could get behind sticking the bureaucratic hellhole of the Administratum a new one.

"I appreciate you and yours coming, Kent. Sincerely." I acknowledged him with a nod and turned to the next lieutenant, the blonde Valhallan. She snapped into a salute.

"Lieutenant Jenit Sulla, Valhallan 597th Infantry!" She declares, and I feel an eyebrow raise beneath my helm.

"Ain't you supposed to be driving Ciaphas to drink, Lieutenant?" I ask, earning a mischievous smirk. Oh so that ignorance of Cain's distaste for her is a joke huh.

"Some wires got crossed during the evacuation of Periremunda, Sir. We'll rejoin our regiment when next we cross paths. The Inquisitor has assured us it shouldn't take too long. In the meantime, we are at your service, Interrogator." Sulla speaks, that smirk on her face never wavering.

"As long as I see you and yours at the end of this, we'll get along just fine, Lieutenant."

Next was the more rough and tumble female lieutenant, who gave me a more bloodthirsty grin than Sulla's mischievous smirk.

"Boss Keth of the Ubrin 7th's 103rd Platoon. That your gun truck that did the hot drop on Peri', Interrogator?" She asks, cocking one of her hips to the side and lighting a Lho-Stub. Cigar. It's a damn stogie cigar. Her voice has that unmistakable Aussie trill to it.

"Bubba gets me where I need to go, yeah." I respond, earning a competitive smirk.

"Keep track of how many Xenos he tags, yeah? Bet you a pack of 'Stubs our Lil' Willy tags more of those grubs, yeah?" Keth is now my favorite lieutenant, and no one can tell me otherwise.

"Bubba'll enjoy that, I'm sure." I'm fairly certain she could hear the grin on my face even behind my helmet. I turned to the Catachan. Oh wow he's big.

"Second Lieutenant Jacques Hadlen, Catachan Jungle Fighters." He spoke, standing at 6'7" of pure Catachan beef.

"Just wanted a good fight?"

"Just wanted a good fight, Sir." He gave a quick nod before I turned to the final Lieutenant.

Now I could get a proper look at him, he was also rather large, he wore finely wrought flak armor, and a silvered mask with eye slits I could see bright blue eyes through.

"Lieutenant Nazir Al'Nagara. Maccabian Janissaries, We are ready to purge the Xenos Filth from Holy Terra, Interrogator." the now named Nazir spoke, standing steady at attention with rock solid posture.

"Are your men as prepared as you seem to be?" I asked, earning a nod.

"Born ready to a man, Interrogator."

"Good."

Having acquainted myself with the Lieutenants I turned to face the mass of soldiers gathered below. Nerves jittered beneath my skin as I began to address them properly. Silence reigned as I began to speak.

"I'm sure all of you have heard that we are going to be going against a new type of Xenos. I applaud your bravery to face the unknown, and I thank you, personally, for answering my call." I said, "You all know who I am. You all know what I'm about. Now, I'm here to tell you about what exactly we're facing, and exactly why."

"They are called the Skaven. Though time has had them called many other names. Ratmen, Ratkin, the Underfollk. They are large, bipedal rodents stronger than the average human, and historically have taken over entire underhives by pure numbers."

"I was abducted by these filthy Xenos a week ago, and fought my way out. Not without difficulty, and not without scars." With this, I reached up and removed my helm, placing it on the rail of the overlook. I felt my new hair drape over my shoulders, and my stitches pulled at my face. I could hear gasps, and prayers as the masses saw me.

"I have borne witness to Him on Terra. I have received orders directly from His mouth. These Skaven, these Vermin, are worshipers of the Ruinous Powers. Attempting to gain a foothold on Holy Terra itself!"

"I say, Nay! Every man and woman in this room can draw roots to here. Holy Terra, Earth . The ancestral home of the Human Race, and these Rats dare step foot in our home? In our house? I say NAY! ."

"We have been tasked with wiping this scum from the face of the Earth . Not the Custodians, not the Space Marines, us . The soldiers of the Astra Militarum, servants of the Inquisition, Adepts of the Mechanicus. For ten thousand years you've held the line against the alien, the heretic, and the mutant. The Skaven are all three ."

"What do we do with these? What do we do with a cultist species whose sole desire is the destruction and enslavement of the human race?! What do we do to such a species?!"

" BURN THE HERETIC! KILL THE MUTANT! PURGE THE ALIEN!" Their shout sent my ears ringing, accompanied by the binaric cry of the Mechanicus, I let a vicious grin split my face. My weapons were crying for battle, I could feel Silver tightening around my body in anticipation.

Vicky was singing 'Shumi Marista'

Magni was breaking his silence for once and slowly gaining volume with his eager laughter.

Grande was promising destruction to the Skaven, and Repentia was cackling with her pilot light flaring.

Dimitri was riling up his Valhallan descendants into a frenzy with intense fervor.

And my .45, my Bud. Simply cocked his hammer back in his holster.

"All of you, gather your equipment, your vehicles, your weapons. Because we go to war in forty-eight hours, and I want to see as many of you as possible after we wipe the rats out. AM I UNDERSTOOD?!"

" SIR YES SIR!"

" 01000110 01001111 01010010 00100000 01010100 01001000 01000101 00100000 01001111 01001101 01001110 01001001 01010011 01010011 01001001 01000001 01001000 00100001!"

As the standard soldiers left, and the lieutenants and my entourage began to make our way down, we were stopped by what I thought was a normal Seraphim of the order of the Lance.

Until I heard Sister Penance giggling at her hip.

"Five Militarum Platoons consisting of sixty men apiece, one Order Minoris of the Adeptus Sororitas consisting of sixty sisters, and an entire regiment of the Adeptus Mechanicus consisting of four thousand adepts, skitarii, and combat servitors." Inquisitor Amberley Vail spoke calmly, leaning against the doorway to exit the mess, clad in Sororitas Armor and dangling a helm from her finger.

Stone Cold Sober .

"H-Howdy, Boss…" I stammered out, earning a chuckle from Raya, Keth, and Kent.

"Fire and Brimstone to chastised whiteshield in five minutes?" Keth commented,

"He's still learning, give it time." Raya countered.

Amberley pushed off the doorframe, revealing a giddy Zemelda Cleat behind her, also clad in Sororitas Power armor, and then approached me.

"For a first mustering, not bad. I won't be around all the time to gather or commandeer local forces. Even cutting out the Mechanicus' attempt to curry favor."

Yanbel Shrugged in response

"Over two hundred soldiers volunteered for service. Not a bad showing. Next is the negotiations. The Custodes deployed one hundred and fifty Custodians and wiped out a half-million Ratkin in the Eastern Continents and the immediate wastes. If there are anywhere near that much enemy numbers in our operating sphere, we're going to need some assistance from the local guard regiments." Vail explained, patting me on the shoulder.

"Chop-Chop, apprentice. You have forty-eight hours." Amberley spoke in a teasing tone of voice I could've sworn she normally reserved for Ciaphas, and turned to saunter away with a malevolent chuckle.

I quickly turned to Raya.

"Honey, I need you to get me a meeting with the Palatine Sentinels and the Lucifer Blacks. I pray the latter aren't as treacherous as their namesake." I requested, to which Raya flashed a smile, nodded, and proceeded to practically disappear with how fast she darted out of there. Sulla, being the new kid on the block, let her jaw drop.

"You're… sleeping with a Custodian?" she asked, earning a few chuckles from the other officers.

"Betrothed to, technically, yes. What, you think I could tell her 'No'? I like my head on my shoulders, thank you very much."

—

I managed to get a meeting later that day with the Palatine Sentinels, and thanked the Lord that Raya was able to pull rank on the Major in charge. As for the Lucifer Blacks.

"The Carpenter was leading a sermon, and I don't think I could draw their attention away from Him with a Leman Russ." Raya had told me. Moving on.

The Major in charge of the Palatine Sentinels was a chipper man by the name of Suman, who seemed to have been expecting the summons.

"Interrogator Foothill! We were growing a bit worried that we'd miss out on the fight!" He spoke cheerfully, he had a large bushy beard and his white uniform was adorned with countless medals.

"You were expecting me, I take it?" I asked, earning a barking laugh from the man.

"The Captain-General had us preparing for this crusade for the last week, Interrogator. The Blacks supported the Custodians, and we've been slated to assist in the purging of old 'Merica." Suman explained, before gesturing to a large map of the North American Continent that I used to call home. "I know you're not well versed in the large-scale tactics, but at the very least you need to know what section of the continent you're in charge of clearing."

His words sent a wave of relief through me that had me slumping on the table with a weight lifted from my shoulders.

"Oh thank the Throne I was worried I'd have to scour a whole continent with forty-five-hundred men." I exclaimed, earning another laugh and a slap on the back from the jubilant major.

"Not this time, son. Now get your war face back on, Interrogator. Can't let the men know we're still squishy behind the rank." Suman spoke, before gesturing at the map once more. He gestured at the area that used to be Big and Little Diomede.

"My boys and I will be taking care of the majority of the continent, starting here, on this peninsula."

"Alaska. Used to be a frozen tundra with hundreds of miles of evergreens." I commented,

"It's all desert now, most of the continent is, that which isn't hive city or ruins." Suman replied before continuing. "My regiment is going to surround the continent, and over the course of a few weeks, we will systematically scour the area and purge every trace of these vermin from the continent. Where you come in, is here." Suman jabs a finger exactly where I knew he would.

Home. Or at least what it became.

" Fuckers are in my house… " I growled out, eyes locked on the green flag marking what I guessed was either a massive skittergate or a nest.

"The ruin of Hive Reyn. The Custodians told us that they interrogated some of the rats, and they've constructed some sort of massive staging area in this location. You were born here, yeah?"

"Thirty Eight Thousand Years ago, unless they just built up around the old infrastructure my knowledge of the area ain't worth crap." I replied, "there's another thing eating at me…there's way too few of them."

"What?!" Suman exclaimed, finally breaking that cheerful veneer.

"The Skaven rival the Tyranids in sheer numbers. Half a million for a continent is a scouting party for them. They must still be getting a foothold if they're stretched this thin." I muttered, taking a look at the map, "I would suggest that the Custodians and the Lucifer Blacks send out a few more search and destroy parties to be absolutely sure they got all of them. But if what I'm saying proves to be the case, we got to get this done fast."

"How bad are we talking, Foothill?" Suman asked, suddenly a lot more invested in the map and moving around pins that signified his troops.

"A horde of chaos worshiping Ratkin that can number in the billions in a matter of weeks. I killed one of their warlocks during my escape, but I doubt he was the only one…and since they're currently in cahoots with the galaxy's sickest grandpa, I wouldn't put it past them to have a few Death Guard Heretics reinforcing them." I muttered keeping an eye on the adjusted positioning, he gave me a few mechanized platoons to assist, that's nice of him.

"Well then, it's a good thing you have the good Lady to help us out then."

"Wouldn't count on that. Raya, as good hearted as she is, is under orders to only interfere if my life is in danger directly. She wants to help, sure, but orders are orders. No, we want Custodian help, we gotta go to the Captain-General." I explained, leading to Suman leaning back from the table and drawing a pipe from somewhere to take a few puffs out of it.

"Well we won't know for sure unless we ask, won't we?"

—

" Unfortunately I'm under orders not to lend you any personnel."

"Goddamn it." I swore,

"I'd rather not."

"GAH!" It was totally dignified exclamation of surprise, having my Savior appear over my left shoulder with a disapproving stare.

" Besides, there's no need for profanity. I am forbidden from lending you my personnel." The Captain-General leaned down a bit, and I could hear mischief in his tone.

" He didn't say anything about me stretching my legs a bit. "

I had prayed, begged Christ to allow me easy passage out of the palace and back to the Exterminatus without getting accosted by anything.

He, it seems, had a test for me.

As I made my way to the shuttle to return with the Captain General and Raya in tow, there was a visitor waiting for us.

" My chapter master is curious as to why you haven't approached us for assistance, Mortal." The vox tinged voice of Recclusiarch Ivanus Enkomi. The voice of the Minotaurs. His tone derisive and disdainful of even having to acknowledge my existence. Which would've been fine by me, because my temper, already frayed from the situation, would be on a hair trigger having to talk with these psychopaths.

Raya moved to cover my back, and the Captain General remained further back, observing.

"Your assistance would be an unnecessary risk to my men. Your chapter has your purpose, and it's not in my crusade." I replied, my voice turning into a growl in my throat, Silver activated the Armor Protocol silently as the Recclusiarch stepped forward.

" It is not you who decides that, Interrogator." He towers over me, but I'm keeping my distance. I wouldn't put it past him to lunge, especially with my next response.

"It is for this war. And I will be long dead and buried before I ever share a battlefield with your ilk. Who gleefully go after your own kin, slaughter civilians, and are two steps in the wrong direction from becoming the heretics you so hate."

" You DARE?!" I could see the Recclusiarch's hand twitch towards his crozius.

Silver enhanced my voice through the vox, whilst even further reinforcing the armor protocol.

" You're damned right I dare. Here's what you need to understand, Minotaur." I spat the word out like a curse. "There are ten million-million-million-million-million-million- million- million - million particles in the universe that we can observe. If you wrote out ' Hate ' across every single one, it would maybe be a tenth of the absolute derision I hold for your chapter. You're a disgrace to your armor. You're the wrecking ball of a bunch of politicians who are about to get one hell of a wake-up call. So do it. Swing." I take a step forward, blood boiling beneath my skin.

"For the love of God , give me the excuse. The Sons of Vulkan will happily answer my call to burn your accursed chapter to ash. " I snarled out, glaring up at the helm of the Recclusiarch, I watched his hand twitch, itching towards his weapon, before it clenched into a fist and returned to his side.

" You've made a powerful enemy today, Interrogator." The Recclusiarch spoke,

" Test me on this, and I promise you: I will unmake you ." I snarled, a power not my own filling my voice as I reiterated the words of the Sigilite. Silver maxed out my enhancements in anticipation of a fight that never came. It was a split second but I saw the Minotaur, and the Captain General freeze. The moment passed, the Minotaur scoffed and walked away, but I had a feeling that this interaction would haunt me.

We made our way into the shuttle and as Raya started to kick us off, the Captain General spoke in a voice that brokered no argument.

" Remove your helm, David." He ordered, leaning forward in his seat to stare me in the eyes. I followed the order and met his gaze. I meant every word I said. He stared me in the eye for a while, before leaning back in his seat with a sigh.

" Not possessed or corrupted, just pure homegrown, dumbass, righteous fury." He muttered, shaking his head. " You sounded like Angron, for a moment there."

"Big Man told me to grow a backbone. Can't shy away at every big armored asshole that doesn't like normal humans if I'm gonna be fighting these wars." I muttered, turning over Silver's Helm in my lap, taking a long look into the red lenses of my helm. "Getting Angry instead of Scared has gotten easier, recently. Venters has been telling me how to harness it better, during my blacksmithing training."

" You need a bit more training as to when that fury is to be used, David James. Even if I can sympathize with your grievances. The Minotaurs do serve a purpose in the wider imperium. "

"They're wild dogs on the leash of a bunch of corrupt politicians that your old man needs to put to pasture."

" They are viciously trained war hounds on the leash of the High Lords of Terra."

"Well remember what happened to the first set of Space Marine War Hounds?"

" Yes, David, I was there. I witnessed Angron's fall firsthand, and you think I don't have eyes on anyone shows similar inclinations?" The Captain General leans forward once more, staring into my eyes with his helmed visage once more.

" You think I'm not watching you? You're making attempts to curb these tendencies, and I commend you for it, but you have a predilection for many of the same traits that Angron had." He brings an armored hand across the shuttle and pokes me in the chest with his finger. " Fire and Brimstone are well and good, but must be tempered with Duty and Honor. Take care that you don't become a hypocrite in your bid to try and remake an age long dead."

"I'm not trying to-"

" Don't kid yourself, David. You're smarter than that." His tone wasn't accusatory or judging, but it was stern. I bit back a curse before I let out a huff.

"Is it wrong to try and make things better than they are?" I spoke softly, rage petering off as I leaned back against the wall of the shuttle in my seat, gazing at the ceiling. "This millennium is an Era of Suffering. Of endless war and bloodshed. I want to heal it. To cut away the Rot, before it gets any worse. Or at least, as much as one man can."

" The fire that burns twice as hot lasts half as long, David. You try too hard, and that Rot will come for You. It likely already is. The Minotaurs will come for you now. You know that right?"

With cold fury running through my veins once more, I leaned forward and looked directly into his eye lenses.

"If they mean to have war with me, they'd be declared heretics for trying to kill someone under the protection of an Aquillan shield. I disrespected them, sure, but I technically outrank them. In addition to that, I'm allied with one of the original chapters, not a successor chapter, who very much have the same opinion on the Minotaurs that I do. Yes, the Minotaurs have a purpose. The deal is, there are hundreds of other chapters that could also fulfill that purpose without the excessive civilian casualties and collateral damage." I tapped on my fingers as I went over each point, before continuing.

"Am I abusing the political shitstorm that is my relationship with Raya? Yes. Yes I am. Is it likely going to bite me in the ass later? Probably. Will it save more loyal human lives overall if I remove the Minotaurs from the board? Yes. I believe so."

" And if your belief is misplaced?"

"Then I will take responsibility for my actions with my own two hands."

—

-Twenty Four Hours Later-

" KEEP YOUR KARKING HEADS DOWN! " Keth's voice crackled through the vox alongside the sounds of bullets ringing off of iron. Venters, in the bed of the truck manning Patton, deployed suppressing fire as I floored the gas. The sand of the wastes kicking up dust as we sped towards Hive Reyn, which was crawling with Ratmen.

The initial assault was a mechanized push, and in my branch of the plan, I was supported by the Gallow Birds and their Lil' Willy, a modified utility vehicle fit with a dual heavy stubber and armor plating. Unfortunately their primary gunner had just been shot in the face with a warplock jezzail. I was driving Bubba, and with Anya, Piotr, and Triton crammed into the cab with me, things were getting tense.

"Incoming projectiles, Eleven o'clock high!" Triton exclaimed from the back seat.

Sickly green fireballs, maybe a dozen of them hurling towards us in a semi-random pattern.

"Plague Claws! Deploy hazmat countermeasures, I want everyone sealed ASAP! Kent! We have enemy artillery within two kilometers, coming from-"

"South-Southeast!" Triton clarified.

"South-Southeast, Keth, get eyes on so Kent can bring in the artillery barrage. Let's see how these rats like earthshaker rounds!" I barked into the vox, swerving out of the path of the disease ridden projectiles.

" That's what I'm talking about, Mate! What a tic…Incoming Vehicles! On our twelve!" Keth's voice turned into a snarl as her vehicle swerved to engage the approaching vehicles.

Four ramshackle trucks belching greenish-black smoke, piloted by Skaven in some caricature of Mad Max, clankin hung from the sides, hissing and brandishing explosives or melee weapons, sometimes the odd laspistol. I diverted course and heard the impacts of rounds and lasbolts ping off of Bubba's chassis, followed by the quick rebuttal from Venters on the .50.

" Deploying smoke shells to your south-southeast, Interrogator. Provide positive identification of enemy artillery for effective fire, Sir." Kent's voice buzzed through the Vox as I heard the whistling of the shells fly overhead, smoke clouding the horizon, hopefully blocking the Skaven Artillery's sight line.

Two of the Ratshackle Trucks peeled off to engage us as the other two went after Kent, and whilst one of them was cut to pieces by Venters before getting within a hundred feet, the other had gotten close enough for one of the Clanrats to leap at us to try and board.

He discovered what a bumper bar moving at a hundred and twenty miles an hour tasted like, and rolled over the roof. Venters squirted him for good measure, as did Soline, who was manning Drake. I saw his body puff into red mist in my driver side mirror.

In addition to the dead clankin, the horizon in my rear view was covered in dust kicked up by our army's vehicles. Dune-riders, Chimera's, and even a few Chimerros crewed by the Palatines.

Bubba jolted as the Ratshackle sideswiped us.

"Oh two can play at that game, LEMME AT 'EM DAVEY!" Bubba cried, and I acquiesced his request, pulling away slightly before slamming into the rear right tire of the truck.

"How's that PiT maneuver taste?! LIGHT 'EM UP DRAKE!"

Soline was proving a good kill confirmer, considering whatever ended up in her sights was near-instantly hit with a burst of high explosive bolter shells.

Keth was doing well, swerving around and doing donuts around the Ratshackles, her backup gunner pumping them full of stubber rounds all the while until they burst into flame.

" I got a bead on those damned catapults! Grubs are holed up in a ruin at…26.2934 Degrees North, 97.9931 Degrees West, roughly a Kilo Southeast of our position!" Keth let out a whoop as Kent's voice filled the Vox.

" Deploying Earthshaker Rounds, Firing for Effect." - Kra-KOOM- the sound of the Basilisks guns firing rang through the vox, moments later the whistling of the rounds flying through the air. Bubba jostled once more as the earthshaker rounds lived up to their name, and the flashes of explosives lit up the horizon. The artillery barrage lasted seven minutes, during which the convoy Keth and I were leading quickly caught up to us and watched the show.

"….Congratulations, Lieutenant Kent, you've reduced what used to be Elsa, Texas into a crater."

" Was a pleasure, Sir."

The Ruins Hive Reyn stretched north out of what used to be the Mexican-American border, it wasn't a singular city, but a cluster of smaller hives that were connected via underground tunnels and massive skybridges. At some point in the last 38,000 years, it had been ravaged by some kind of bombardment, because large swathes of the Hive had been blasted away and left craters deep into the Earth.

I decided we were going to finish the job.

"Lieutenant Kent!" I called through the Vox, and shortly later a Basilisk pulled up alongside Bubba, the Cadian Lieutenant poking out of the hatch.

"Yes, Sir?" He asked, I gestured towards the distant ruined towers.

"You see those Hive Spires, Lieutenant?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Yes, Sir."

"I don't want to." I stated, and his face mirrored the cat that caught the canary.

" Yes, SIR!" The Basilisk reversed back into the artillery line and they began their preparations. As they did so I spoke into the Vox, on the general channel.

"Alrighty folks, This is Interrogator David James Foothill speaking with the itinerary for this here engagement. Y'see, for the next twenty four hours, our boys and girls in the artillery line are going to be shelling the ruins of Hive Reyn, which I have been assured were barren of human life even before the Skaven decided to make our lives difficult, into a very fine powder. Now, It's gonna be our job to make sure that this barrage can go on unscathed, so expect a counterassault from the Skaven." I took a moment to take a breath, thinking for a moment about the area and what I knew before continuing, "Now, our mission here is two-fold. Both orders given directly by the Emperor himself, so calm your war-boners for two seconds and listen up!"

"We are here to wipe the scum of the Skaven off the face of the earth, yes. But we are also here to snatch as many ancient weapons and relics that we can get our grubby little kleptomaniacal hands on."

"'But Sir' you ask, 'what about Hive Reyn itself?' Well, take it from a Rio Grande Valley native: There ain't shit here. Hence why I'm going to be sending a few squads to specific areas in the surrounding territory for two things: Find out how far the Skaven have spread, and to search potential treasure troves that may still hold some relics of the good ol' U S of A." Silver sent out a number of different coordinates to the Lieutenants to assign guard duties and expeditionary squads at their discretion.

"Each of these locations I've sent to you all are locations of military bases or historical sites that, with enough alacrity, we can get to, search, and get back within eighteen hours. If you do not find any relics, keep an eye out for Skaven outposts, and destroy them." With a final breath, I address the artillery.

"Major Suman, Lieutenant Kent, show these Rats what Forty Thousand Years of Human Ingenuity can do. Begin the Barrage."

"Anya, Piotr, I need you two to stay here and help coordinate the defense. Anya, take Dimitri. You're the better shot." I ordered my two friends, earning quick nods and a scoff from Piotr, who hefted his new Hellgun and popped the door of the cab.

"I twitched once, and you never forget it." He mutters, earning a chuckle from me and his cousin. The two of them dismounted and Triton moved up into the front seat.

"I can't begin to imagine how Thunder Warriors fit in here, Interrogator." He snarked, his mechadendrites darting in to avoid getting caught in the door.

"I don't want to think about it. We got important shit to deal with. Anya, Piotr. Keep your heads on a swivel, coordinate with Major Suman, he's a better commander than I am, if he has suggestions, follow them. Triton, Soline, Venters and I are gonna be going to one of the more likely treasure troves in the area." I ordered, leaning out the window to get a look at the hellfire beginning rain on the ruins of Hive Reyn.

The sound of the artillery going off just over the horizon and screaming through the air to crash into the spires is muted by my helm. Flashes of orange fire light up each impact and I know that within a few minutes we'd likely be dealing with a counterattack. My musings were cut short by Bubba shifting with two large weights suddenly clinging to the side of the truck.

The Captain-General had decided to cling to the side of my truck and Raya, ever the loyal subordinate, mirrored him on the passenger side.

" So, where are we headed, Foothill? " The Captain-General asks, a jaunty smirk in his tone.

"Laughlin Air Force Base. About a five hour drive." I responded dryly, to which Bubba spoke up.

"We don't have speed limits anymore Davey, betcha I can make it in two!"

"We're overloaded, Bubba…two and a half." Patton snarked back.

The Captain-General, blessedly ignorant of the growing argument between machines, inclined his head with a hum.

" We'd best get moving then, shouldn't we?"

We burned through the wastes of what used to be Central Texas as fast as Bubba's engine would allow us. And judging by the howling laughter from said truck, we were doing just fine. I will say, when we hit a rough patch of infrastructure at 180 miles an hour…welp it felt like my insides were trying to rattle their way out of my asshole.

One point to the mechanicus and their augmetics, I suppose, for being able to stone-face that without any visible discomfort.

Now, the trip wasn't exactly smooth sailing. Well, at least not for me, the driver.

Raya and the Captain General had a wonderful time engaging the Ratshackles and a new skaven vehicle: a goddamn Camaro, now dubbed the Camarat, damn things were fast. As in catch up to us when we're going 180 MPH fast.

Now, I thought I had an idea of the capabilities of Custodians, given my closeness with Raya and our training.

I was mistaken. Sorely. Mistaken.

I remember reading somewhere before I was pulled here that a single Custodian was described as a 'golden blur' throughout a battlefield. It proved true for Raya, even with Silver enhancing my perception.

It did not prove true for the Captain-General, who's only proof of not fucking teleporting was the cloud of dust his footsteps kicked up as he darted from Skaven Vehicle to Skaven Vehicle, completely forgoing the use of weapons to simply tear them apart with his hands. At one point, he jumped onto the hood of one truck, crushing it and the engine beneath, leapt to another, and proceeded to hit the cab of said truck with the people's elbow.

Honestly I wish I could've enjoyed the show more, instead of having to dodge bloody warpfire spewers and rockets. The Camarats had decided to focus on us mortals, forgetting that Venters was still in the back and very much a hell of a heavy machine-gunner. Whilst I was focused on getting us where we needed to go, he was running Patton like a sewing machine, and when the enemy got too close to use Patton, letting out a torrent of flame from his Hand Flamer that sent a conflagarated Camarat into a ditch.

Bubba hitched terribly as two weights once again settled on each side of the cab.

"God damn Davey…I thought the Uni Wars were rough on the suspension." Bubba muttered under the strain before releasing a growl that spurred us back to speed.

" Well, Shield-Captain, you've slowed down in wedded life. " The Captain-General commented to Raya, who let out a huff.

"My training has not faltered, Sir." Raya defended, but I could hear the fluster in her tone.

" No offense is intended, Little Sister, simply remember that lovemaking does not count as 'additional PT'."

"Okay, that was out of pocket, Kitten." I shot through the Vox, earning a bark of laughter from the Captain General.

" Oh I haven't heard that one in years, did you tell him that one Raya? Or was it Karstodes?" The Captain General's shoulders shook as he laughed, giving the driver's side window a playful tap. " It has been centuries since someone has dared to remind me of that moniker, do you know how I got it, David?"

"Did you purr in your sleep like Raya does?"

" David!" HA! Broke her composure.

" HA! No. My name is Leonidas, David. Karstodes figured out the meaning of it at some point and thus, 'kitten' was born." The now named Captain-General explains, looking wistfully at the horizon as we close the distance to our destination. " It has been a number of years since I've had the opportunity to stretch my war-muscles, this has been…enjoyable."

"We've been in like… four conflicts." I muttered,

"Four skirmishes, one ambush, and two advancing guards. Totalling 247 dead enemy combatants, Omnissiah be Praised." Triton clarified from the passenger seat, earning a few chuckles from Raya, Venters, Leonidas, and Soline.

Was it really that many rats…damn.

"We've been eating good , Davey! God damn is it good to be back in the fight." Bubba cried, spurring us forward with a burst of acceleration, Patton grunting in agreement, and Drake, the Young'n, was simply happy to be here.

Me, personally? I was praying that we would find something worth the risk of me going out here. Y'see about a half hour in to the trip, I got a sinking feeling in my gut that I couldn't shake. My mood dropped significantly, and the skirmishes hadn't helped.

Okay maybe pasting Skaven with Bubba's bumper bar helped a little.

Still, as I saw the walls of what used to be Laughlin AFB, that feeling came back with a vengeance.

Laughlin was mainly a training base, back in the day. It had a reservist barracks, sure, but overall it was mainly a base meant to train new fliers.

Now obviously when shit hit the fan over the course of 38000 years that changed.

Instead of a modest ruin or a crater, as I expected, the ruins we encountered were massive. Rockrete spanned our vision and massive steel doors hung open like the maw of a dead beast.

We split into groups of three, Mortals vs Enhanced, and whoever found the most useful relic got bragging rights.

Obviously I cheated. Triton, being the technogremlin that he is, got the power going with just a single cogitator. With the power running, I could hear the voices of the machines waking up. Well. One machine in particular.

" Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord." It sang, and I followed the music. It was faint, and I could barely make it out at first, but as we marched, it became clearer and clearer.

" He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored." Winding hallways and paths choked with dust we walked through, following the old Hymn.

" He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword." Louder and louder, closer and closer we crept, eyes perched for any movement or automated defenses.

" His Truth is Marching on!

Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!

Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!

Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!

His Truth is Marching on!"

I followed my ears and verse after verse continued, until we came across the goldmine.

Hangar Bay B14. Triton got to work at the cogitator to open the door, Air rushing inside once he got it to cooperate.

" He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat

He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment seat

Oh be swift, my soul, to answer Him. Be jubilant, my feet!

Our God is Marching On!"

The lights kicked on revealing an ancient beauty that sent a grin on my face that stretched ear to ear beneath my helm.

" Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!

Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!

Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!

His Truth is Marching on! " I harmonized with the old beast for a moment before I finally approached, gesturing at the grand being.

"Tech-Adepts of the Priesthood of Mars, I introduce you to: the AC-130. The AC standing for Attack Cargo, it is, essentially, an artillery battery with wings. Capable of flying 300 miles an hour and with a range of 1300 miles before refueling, in my time, this was one of the most feared vehicles in the arsenal. They have been given many names, however one shines through. After destroying 10,000 enemy vehicles in the war for Vietnam, they were given the moniker 'the Angel of Death.'" I announce, popping open the door closer to the cockpit, and heading inside.

"You flatter me, Son." The plane's voice is old, resolute. I run a hand along the dust caked interior wall, a blue glowing light shining from a crate catching my eye.

"You're in pretty good shape here, Old-Timer…what you doing here down Texas way? Ain't y'all supposed to be based out of Florida?" I asked, pulling the glowing object from the grate. It was a piece of something, it projected a holograph in front of my eyes with blueprints and manufacturing data. Oh Boy . I tucked away the tablet underneath my chest plate as the gunship spoke again.

"Well, Son, my brothers and I got pulled out of retirement when Opfor fucked around real bad." Oh dear, that doesn't sound good.

"How bad?" I asked, that sinking feeling returning again.

"Bad enough that Grandpa Buff is sleeping the next hangar over with a Spear on standby."

" What?!"

I rushed out of the cargo plane and sprinted to the next hangar, barking

"Get a salvage crew over here ASAP!" Over my shoulder towards Triton as Soline matched my frantic pace.

Not even bothering with the Cogitator I slammed my foot into the personnel entrance with enough force to pulverize it.

There, sitting under the haze of fading lights, sat the B-52 stratofortress.

"Have you forgotten your Decorum, Child? Has the world fallen so far that manners have no place when amongst the Elders?" His voice is noble, regal even. The voice of generations of service.

"Forgive me, Sir." I say, breathless. "I am David of house Foothill. A navy family."

"And why are you here, Navyman? Why do you disturb my rest?" The Cockpit of the Stratofortress seems to glare at me, and I find myself frozen.

My pistol, my guardian, my friend, he speaks next.

"Why are you not gone to rust? Why are you not dust in the wind, radiation seeping from your bones?" He challenges, breaking his signature silence. "You know exactly why we are here. You feel it as much as the rest of our metal kin do."

" War, then?" The stratofortress asks, and Buddy's response is grave.

" Extinction , should we not do our duty. It is time, Sky-Knight."

"I am old, young guardian. Many parts of me gone to rust and time."

"But not all of you." I cut in, stepping forward. "I can fix you, and if not, retrofit. You can rule the skies alongside your kin once more. I swear it."

Silence for a moment.

"Millennia, I have sat here. Waiting to rust away. Only to persist. Why? I wondered. Why? I would ask. And now, when I feel the Rot-Father scratching at the gates louder than ever, you arrive…a sign? A calling?" He mutters, before with a belch of black smoke his engines spark to life, filling the hangar with a roar that his voice mirrors, "It is time for the War-Song to be sung, and I will not be silent for a single moment longer! Show me thine enemies, child! And our crescendo will echo throughout the immaterium itself!"

"…. Thank You." Is all I can say through bated breath.

"Triton, Soline. Front and Center!" I Shouted out, the two tech adepts rushing over to me and standing at attention.

"I am placing the two of you in charge of the salvage operation of this facility. Now. These two aircraft are of absolute importance to this operation. SO. I am relying upon the two of you to make sure that no Blood Ravens, Minotaurs, or wild Trazyns take these aircraft from us. Triton, I need you to scour the cogitators for operations manuals and training texts, fill as many data slates as you need to and you get them to me." I ordered, tone grave. There was a hint of hesitation before Triton spoke.

"Sir…by creed I would be required to present the findings to a superior of the Mechanicus first." He states, usual mischievousness gone from his tone. I nodded.

"I understand that, however; Counterpoint:" I reached beneath my chest plate and pulled out the glowing blue dataslate I had pilfered earlier. An STC Fragment. Or, more accurately, the ancestor of one. Holographs projected in the air between us, flickering between designs. Planes, tracked vehicles, man-portable weaponry, armor. Specifications of material density, fueling, instructions on modification and retrofits. The two tech adepts eyes' widened instantly, and I could see the anticipation in their body language.

"Sir…is that what I think it is?" Soline asks, voice filled with awe

-Note from Lady Custodian Raya: Yeah. Awe. You sweet summer child.-

"Yes, Yes it is. And if you two want printouts of it for your personal perusal, you're going to do what I ask, yeah?" I propose, tucking the tablet back under my chestplate. The two adepts snapped into a salute.

" 01011001 01100101 01110011 00100000 01010011 01101001 01110010 00101100 00100000 01001001 01101110 01110100 01100101 01110010 01110010 01101111 01100111 01100001 01110100 01101111 01110010 00100001 00100000!" ( Yes Sir, Interrogator! )

With their binaric declaration ringing in my ears, I made my way to exit the hangar, markedly ignoring the growing wet spot on a visibly twitching Soline's crimson robes.

I ran into Venters, Raya, and Leonidas on the way out, and instantly they joined in step as I marched through the halls to get back to Bubba.

" You must've found something of import if you're this incensed, David." The Captain-General commented as we marched.

"Important enough that I'm leaving two perfectly good aircraft behind to haul ass with a pickup truck into a warzone." I spoke quickly, walking quickly. "I now have one more extremely good reason to get this extermination done quickly. We have to move. Now. "

We had found a veritable gold mine. Something was wrong. Things were going too well. That feeling in my gut cinched and I hopped into the driver's seat and started the engine with purpose.

"Oh boy I know that look…what's going on Dave?" Bubba asked as I pulled a U-Turn, Leonidas and Raya grabbing hold of the sides and Venters hopping into the back.

"You remember when we had to rush my brother to the hospital?" I asked, and Bubba's normally playful demeanor vanished.

"Yes, Boss."

"We're going to haul ass as if Jayden was bleeding out in the passenger seat." I stated, before flooring it.

Fucking knew something was wrong. We made it back in an hour and a half, finding an all out Skaven assault ongoing on our artillery position. A wall of lasers firing against a wave of fur and fangs.

"Venters." I spoke. "Get on Drake. I'm linking to Patton. We're going in."

" Into the Fires of Battle" Venters spoke, following the suggestion. Raya and Leonidas dismounted, both brandishing their bolt-lances. I grabbed the cable that would normally link to a standard auspex and plugged it into the side of my helm. An additional reticle appeared on my visor and I floored the gas pedal once more. Into the Horde. Unto the Anvil.

Utilizing a trigger pedal under my left foot I let loose with a large torrent of .50 cal from Patton as we rapidly approached the Horde of Skaven. Once again I saw a single golden blur and a cloud of dust rush the Skaven and begin to raise hell.

" Interrogator! We got eyes on you!" Major Suman's voice cut into my comm-bead, as well as a fresh wave of mortars launched from the defensive line into the Horde.

"What the hell happened, Major!" I called out, swerving around a large rock launched at me by a Rat Ogre who began to charge out of the horde. I swung Bubba around and Venters unloaded a stream of .95 Caliber high explosive bolt shells into the Ogre. I'll give the monstrosity credit for taking at least six high explosive bolts before being reduced into a meaty paste.

" We were too damned effective, Interrogator. About half an hour ago, the artillery barrage hit something important. Sent up a green cloud of fire that reached halfway up the spire. Five minutes after that we engaged the first wave, and it's been constant ever since. We're preparing for a repositioning. There were too many for us to simply hold out." Suman summarized, and the sound of more cannons going off rang through the Vox, I could see the anti-personnel shells shred the ranks of the horde, shrapnel tearing through skaven flesh with reckless abandon.

"Must've knocked out the skittergate. They're going all out…" I muttered, swinging the truck back around to begin circling the horde. I sent bursts of .50 intermittently into the horde, and Venters showed his experience in sending precise scythes of bolt shells into their ranks, culling dozens of rats at a time.

Dozens of dead in a single burst would be impressive if the horde wasn't likely thousands of Skaven strong.

"Lieutenants, report." I called over the vox,

" Good to hear you're back with us, Mate. the Birds are running interference to cover the repositioning." Keth responded first, followed by Jacques

" My fighters are lighting up the rats alongside the Janissaries, Al'Nagara took a round to the throat and can't talk. He's alive, and pissed. " The Catachan reported, a hoarse growl following his report.

" Coming up on your Six, Interrogator!" Sulla spoke, and indeed, soon enough I was supported by a sextet of Chimeras, each spewing multilas or heavy bolt shells into the horde. As the vehicles moved to continue encircling the horde, an idea spawned.

"Mechanized units, begin encircling the horde. Yanbel, divide your mechanized units, half remain with the artillery and wounded, the other half get your asses up here. We're gonna herd these idiots like a bunch of grox." I declared, "Keep your heads on a swivel, there may be secondary mobs, but if the artillery took out their leadership along with the Skittergate…"

" They may just be rushing us like a bunch of techno-barbarians!" Lieutenant Kent, I was almost worried. Suman began barking orders to the Palatines, Yanbel let off a stream of binaric that was met with a spur of activity that left a cloud of dust in my rearview as more vehicles moved to try to corral the Skaven.

The battle commenced according to the new plan, with vehicles spewing lasbolts and guardsmen and skitarii deploying from the armored vehicles to fight on foot and close the gaps between the vehicles. Ratshackles and Camarats tried to intercept us, for all the bad that could be said about the Skaven, they weren't stupid. They tried to cut us off but technological superiority worked out well enough with lasers and bolt shells cutting down the forces attempting to branch from the horde. The very concentrated grouping that had allowed them to get so close to our emplacement had now hamstrung their own attempts, making them easier targets. Boulders and lasbolts bounced ineffectively off of the armor of chimeras or were dodged by the more agile vehicles.

To say nothing of the two Custodians currently feeding the core of the Horde their own innards. I could see a cloud of steaming red mist forming at the center, signaling where the Captain-General was putting in work. I could hear Terentia's signature report even through Bubba's cab, Raya was letting loose. Now, the moment I was able to rendezvous with Keth and her forces on the far end of the Horde, a voice I wasn't expecting nearly so soon rang through my vox.

" You ought to secure your radio line better, Son." The voice of the AC-130's machine spirit rang in my ear. " That's a lot of hostiles down there. Well don't you worry. Uncle Herc's up here with 105 reasons to have a smile on your face. "

" The younger Elder refused to sit still, Interrogator. It was all I could do to get on board." Soline's voice also buzzed through my private vox channel, I shook my shock off and let a grin grow on my face. I opened up the general vox channel.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Inquisition, Astra Militarum, and Adeptus Mechanicus, If you'll direct your gazes upward, you may see a moving black dot against the blue sky. Those of you with augmetic eyes, or magnifiers will see one of the recovered relics. Operating at Twelve Thousand feet up, the AC-130. Inside said relic is our very own Soline of the Adeptus Mechanicus."

" Ready to serve, Sir!" Soline chirped.

"Equipped with two 25mm gatling cannons, one 40mm cannon, and one 105mm cannon. Soline. Get on the 105mm. At my signal, launch a round into their center ranks. You get that, Captain-General, Raya, You get that? You're gonna want to get out of there."

" Acknowledged."

" Copy."

"Send it."

" Son, I'm sending all of it." Wait What?!

It takes a few seconds, but the ordinance tears into the horde. A stream of 25mm Gatling shells accentuated with 40mm cannon shots. A stream of leaden death that spurs me to act.

" All forces open fire! Wipe them out! " I shout into the vox. Chimeras open open up with multilas cannons and heavy bolters, Venters is spewing heavy bolter shells from Drake and I'm sending round after round of .50 cal into the horde.

Keth is laughing maniacally from her position manning the dual heavy stubbers on the back of the Lil' Willy, Sulla is letting out a stream of lasbolts from her lasgun as her chimera spews out a stream of hate in the form of bolt shells.

Guardsmen of all calls and creed are burning through power pack after power pack. The sheer number of the Skaven proving an issue as the dead begin to pile up like a morbid wall of sandbags.

Then the 105 hits. Not a high explosive, but a fragmentation shell. It detonates on impact, sending ten thousand nails in all directions outward from the point of impact. The central bulk of the surviving Skaven are reduced to so much mulch.

Our groundside artillery, now back over the horizon, bring their own contribution to the slaughter. 152mm shells blowing open the wall of Skaven corpses and walking inwards. Carving a charnel path that the Captain-General strode back into, hefting his spear over his shoulder.

" We will be taking it from here, David. Come Raya. We must be thorough."

It takes another hour before the Captain-General gives the all clear, and we finally move to regroup with the artillery.

I should've known better. I should've fucking known.

I had dismounted from Bubba and was met by Anya and Suman, who were in high spirits at a job well done. We went through reports, debriefed, and for a while things seemed to be okay. But Piotr never joined us.

"He was assisting Kent's artillery group." Suman told us, and Anya and I moved to look for him.

We met up with Kent, who informed us he had never made it to his unit, and we began a search.

"You should've kept yourself humble, mortal." An unfamiliar voice, but I knew the color of that armor.

A Minotaur Scout. Piotr in his grasp, mutilated, his remaining leg ripped off and bleeding, wounds all around his body, his tongue cut out, his face beaten bloody, but breathing. Until the Minotaur locked eyes with my visor.

SNAP-RRRIP

Piotr's body slumped to the floor, his head held in the Minotaur's grasp.

Something inside snapped .

I don't remember what I did. I remember the aftermath.

I held the scout's breastplate in my left hand, his body held aloft sans his head. His skull and brains littered the floor, and my right fist, crackling with energy, was covered in offal and skull fragments.

I dropped the body and turned to my men.

Anya, weeping, but vengeance in her eyes.

Kent eyes wide but resolute.

The Captain-General. Leonidas. Watching me like a statue as I removed my helm to lock eyes with him.

"They took my friend." I spoke, deadly calm. "Now…I'm going to take from them… everything. " I take a step forward. Marching towards him, keeping my eyes locked with his to ensure him that this was me.

"When I am finished with them. The Minotaurs will be spoken of in hushed whispers…the likes of the IInd and XIth…are you going to stop me, Leonidas?" I asked

"… What reason, have I, to stop the Inquisition from wiping out a band of heretics?"