Chapter 9: The Long Watch

Greencloak Forest, Salome 4, 2 Weeks Later

The door was still not open.
That, in and of itself, was enough to fray the tempers of even the more implacable of the Techpriests. And they were the ones working on the door.

For now, however, Daniel considered a data-slate in what had become the command tent, pondering on the message Commander Kinley had sent him this fine morning.

'Effective at reception of this message, the squads currently on mission within Greencloak Forest will transfer to the command of Captain Daniel Theisman, in the interest of the creation of the 1012th Mechanized Infantry Company of the 119th Silver Scales, Callsign 'Maniple Gryphon'. Current squads will comprise the first and second motor rifle platoons. Further reinforcement of Gryphon will continue after completion of mission.'

"That's the play, then," he said to himself as he dropped the data-slate. "Looks like I need to truly get to know the troops under my command."

With that, he rose from the field chair, passing around the table and into the open air of a forest in the morning. With time having passed as it had, the vehicles were now lined up in an orderly lot. The two rows of Chimeras were flanked by the Sentinels, strange vehicles from the Mechanicus across from them.

Daniel regarded them for a moment as he remembered watching them arrive in the weeks before. They had defied what he'd expected. Instead of the standard Duneriders, these troop transports were stretched, broad triangular pyramids of wedged metal, striding in on six taloned legs. Near the apex of the pyramid was an inset turret weapon, a blocky, buzzing thing that glowed with a blue-white, crackling energy.

"Where the hell do the troops come from?" Kat had asked, and found an answer in the instant that they stopped.

12 pairs of clearly mechanical legs folded out from underneath the bottom of the vehicle as a series of doors opened, the feet hanging an inch or two above the ground before dropping onto it. From within, the Skitarii walked out from the back of the vehicles, cybernetic soldiers armed with strange, wondrous weapons.

Next to these remarkable transports stood the currently dormant Dreadnoughts, the Emerald Dragons Techmarine ministering to them.

'I'd say it's worth a quick stop-by,' Daniel thought as his slightly ambling course took him towards the Astartes.

As he drew near, the Techmarine looked over at him. "Captain Theisman," the Techmarine said. "Good morning."

"Good morning, Lord Solare," Daniel replied. "How are the venerable brothers faring?"

"I am in the process of awakening them," Solare replied. "If you wish to speak with them, give me a moment."

Daniel gave the Techmarine his space, and the severe Dragon continued his work between both Dreadnoughts. One couldn't expect all Astartes to follow the general attitude of their Chapter exactly.

A few minutes later, the whirring of the two mechanical battle mechs reached their apex, the two ancient Astartes slowly standing.

"Good day to you, good Techmarine Solare," the one armed with an autocannon said, the buzz and growl of the Dreadnought's speakers only managing to dim the cheery nature of the voice that echoed from within. "And to you, little Captain Theisman."

"Good morning, venerable Kitembe," Daniel replied. "And to you as well, venerable Julene."

"We continue in this forest, I see," Julene said as his lascannons began to come to idle readiness. "How goes the procedure of obtaining our spoils, Solare?"

"Still slow," Solare replied, his tone slightly sour. "The machine spirit of the door continues to be intractable, likely due to its age. We are making progress, however. I think we shall leave this forest soon."

"That is well," Kitembe said. "As verdant as the forest is, it will be best to go towards the next field of battle."

"As long as you do not obstruct the way for our brothers again as you did on Vielos those many years ago," Julene said, the tone of jest evident. "That, as I recall, set the offensive back several solar cycles."

There was a crackle that could not be mistaken for anything other than a sigh. "Will you never give up on such a gaffe? It was a tactical decision made in the heat of the moment. The Tyranid swarms would have overrun the position, and my 'gaffe' gave us valuable time to shore up and prepare."

"I shall only give it up," Julene said after a moment, "when it ceases to amuse me."

Daniel chuckled softly. "I shall perhaps see you on our patrol routes, venerable lords. Good day to you."

"Emperor go with you," Kitembe called out as Daniel made his way back over to the Guard portion of the camp.

Coming to a stop by the tents marked out for sleeping, he found his squad, sitting down with them to start on breakfast. He let them eat for a little while before speaking up. "Congratulations. You're officially my command squad."

"I wondered when that would be the case," Stavros said, the others nodding alongside him. "Knowing how our regiment is structured, it was only going to be a matter of time before we started building up a maniple of our own."

"So," Iago said, "when do we get the kit to go with our promotion? When we get back to Highhold?"

"When you manage to treat the hotshot lasgun you get better than the one you use right now, I'll be comfortable," Vherra said with a slight grin. "I'm surprised that you haven't had to get more replacement parts."

Iago rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. I make sure the most important parts get done well."

"It's all important," Vherra said meaningfully.

So the small talk continued until the meal was finished. Daniel stood, nodding over to the campground of the Void Weavers. "I'm off to grab our two companions from the Weavers for our patrol. Get ready to march out to our route."

Command squad or not, they would be going on patrol today, alongside every other squad as they had before then. Daniel thought back to the patrol schedule that had been made this week. Brothers Polenus and Geribeld. Once again, the game had begun.

'What were their marks again…' he mused, coming to a stop at the edge of the Void Weaver's camp, scanning the assembled squads. One thing that he had noticed as he'd started this little game was the unusual amount of grav-weaponry he saw amongst the squads, two rifles carried by designated members and two pistols on who must have been the captains. The pistols ruled out their wielders. But the pistols weren't what he was looking for.

The Astartes noticed him, looking over at him as he scanned their armor, white lines stretching up in sundry places, crawling up pauldrons, helmets, arms, chests, and legs. If he remembered correctly…

He picked out one with a pattern dusted with red and black that crawled up his right cheek, and another with what he thought of as a wristband of black stars. "Lord Polenus, Lord Geribeld," he said to the Marines in turn. "My squad and I go now to our patrol route. We would be honored if you were to join us."

The two Astartes looked at each other as they stood smoothly, walking over to Daniel. "Prepare your men," Polenus replied. "We will depart with you."

Daniel bowed slightly. "Thank you, lords."

He turned to retrieve his squad, and they departed into the forest towards well-defined paths.

The patrol route was well-worn at this point, but even still, the forest surrounded them, cages of brown and green whose bars stretched into the distance. The squad was arrayed in a rough circle, the Astartes in its center. Daniel was closest to them at the moment, and glancing up at the pair, he ventured his question.

"If I may be so bold, lords," he said, "is there a name for the markings on your armor?"

It was silent for long moments. "They are our web-stories," Polenus finally replied. "I imagine you have already discerned their intent."

"I have my guesses, lord," Daniel replied. "Commendation and tribute to past victories and feats of valor is foremost among them."

"Indeed," Polenus replied. "Their true understanding is for us, and us alone. Ask no further."

Daniel nodded. "I shall do so, lord. Thank you for elucidating me."

Again, it was silent. Daniel returned to scanning the trees and what lay between them. Slowly but surely, it was progress.

"I heard that there were casualties to the Ork forces somewhere in the south," he said after several more moments. "I-"

"You talk too much," Geribeld finally said. "What drives your infernal interest in us?"

"The idea that none fully deserve to be forgotten," Daniel replied. "My mind will never be as enduring as the marks on your armor, but you two, and all in your Chapter, mean something. Even if it is only to those within your ranks. Should the worst come to pass… then I will do my best to stand as a witness to who you were. Even if all I have to remember is Lord Polenus and Lord Geribeld's company."

His memory's resilience was a little lie, a blessing and curse none needed to know about just yet, but the rest was an honest truth.

The two Astartes looked at Daniel, then at each other, remaining silent to his ears for moments that stretched into minutes.

"We lost 9 brothers in the southern foothills," Polenus said quietly. "Their gene-seed has been recovered, as far as we're aware."

Daniel nodded. "I see. I hope they died well in their duty."

"By all rights, they did," Geribeld said.

Before any could speak further, something barked from behind and to their right. Gunshots. Heavy rounds, or at the very least, weapons made to sound as such.
All turned and trained their guns on the sound as another joined it. It could not be more different from the noise it dueled with, a series of buzzing, shrieking howls that bored, on and off, past the recognizable gunfire and into their minds.

"Again?" Galen said somewhat testily. "That's the third time I've heard something like that. What the hell is out there?"

"Orks, at least," Vherra replied. "But what they're fighting… that doesn't sound like any sort of weaponry I've ever heard."

"We have heard such weapons fire before," Geribeld growled. "These are Eldar weapons."

"Shuriken weaponry?" Daniel said.

'That tracks, I suppose,' he mused as they waited for any sign of the fighting drawing closer. 'A Ranger might have been an advance force, but outright combat like this? There's definitely a Craftworld somewhere in the system.'

The noises died down, silence once again descending on the forest. Daniel tapped the helmet controls for the com-bead in his ear. "Fury Actual to patrol elements. We have gunfire, Orkish and possibly Eldar, somewhere in our vicinity. Was anyone else able to pick that up?"

It was silent for a brief moment. "This is Quarrel Actual," another voice said, a Silver Scales sergeant, a woman named Fulcata as he recalled. "What direction was your gunfire? We heard action to our north-east."

"We heard it to our south-east," Daniel replied. "Any visual?"

"Negative," Fulcata said. "It sounded to be about a klick out, according to our Dreadnought escort."

Daniel glanced over at the Astartes as he cut the line for a moment. "Would your senses say that firefight was about a kilometer out?"

"If not a little more, yes," Polenus said.

Daniel opened the channel again. "Confirm from our Astartes out here. Nothing we can do for now but go on heightened alert. Inform the rest of the camp to be combat-ready."

"Aye, sir."

With that, Daniel cleared the channel, sighing quietly. "Now, we wait, and we keep on walking."

. . .

The action, as it had been the other two times it had happened, led to nothing save for a noticeable uptick in adrenaline among the soldiers of the camp. The Commissars were now up and about, on the patrol route so as to quickly maintain order on whatever rapidly forming battle line might come into being.

It was, for the moment, a welcome relief that they would not engage either Orks or Eldar. But Daniel still found himself anxious. If not for his soldiers, then for the civilians that might be caught and cast into the crossfire by potentially uncaring Aeldari.

Then, a rustling came from their right, far closer than any had come before. Again, guns darted to point into the moving brush.

Daniel, his eyes hidden from view, tapped into his Sight, seeing two souls huddling in the underbrush, scrounging for something. Both were human.

"Wait!" Daniel said, hoping his words would still the trigger fingers of Polenus and Geribeld more than those of his squad.

"You there, in the bushes!" he called out. "Show yourselves, and we won't harm you!"

As Daniel shut his spectral Sight, the two figures revealed themselves to be an older man and a young woman, dressed simply and sturdily for the forest they inhabited, their hands up. "Please…" the man said. "Don't shoot us. We haven't done anything wrong, we swear."

Daniel lowered his carbine, motioning for the others to follow his lead as he pulled his helmet off. "What are you doing here? It's not safe for you. Please, go somewhere else."

"We're gathering food for our village," the young woman said. "This place is a good grove for fruits. We can't farm right now, what with the alien menace out and about."

"Please," Daniel said again, stepping forward. "This place isn't safe for you. Not only is there fighting against the xenos, this is a secure location. Turn back now, because I cannot guarantee your safety."

"But this is the best source of food!" the man protested. "Without it or the crops, our children will starve!"

"We seek to finish our business here as quickly as possible," Daniel said. "Please, I must ask you to search somewhere else for the time being until we leave the area."

The pair was silent, looking at each other with a weary anxiety that made Daniel's heart ache with sympathy. He hated that he had to do this.

Then, at last, the man sighed heavily. "Alright. We'll-"

Bang. Bang.

In the instant Daniel heard the throaty reports, the man and woman's chests exploded, sending them falling back as their blood splattered across Daniel's armor and face. They were lifeless before they even hit the ground.

Daniel's head whipped back to see Kurtiz, standing about a dozen meters back, the barrel of his bolt pistol still smoking slightly doing nothing to conceal the rictus of his brow.

"You were tasked to secure the perimeter by any means necessary," he said as he lowered the bolt pistol and approached. "Including lethal force. Why did you waste time on the task of securing the area?"

"They were prepared to turn back and not return until we were gone, sir," Daniel replied as he did his best to wipe the blood from his face.

"And what guarantee is the word of a peasant?" Kurtiz retorted. "You would set only two people's lives over those of your squad, or your orders? You are in dereliction of your duty, Captain."

Daniel's blood ran chill as he glanced down at the bolt pistol in Kurtiz's hand. The time had come at last, it seemed…

"You will take these bodies and bury them a sufficient distance from this patrol route," Kurtiz said. "The stench may likely attract Orks."

Daniel blinked, then nodded after a moment as he looked over at Polenus and Geribeld. "You may return to camp as you wish, my lords. Our patrol is over. We have another task to attend to."

"Alone, Theisman."

Daniel looked back at Kurtiz, noticing Galena making her way towards them rather quickly, along with what must have been Quarrel squad, the silence punctuated by the tramp of a Dreadnought, the lascannons marking it as Julene.

"Your task, as with your dereliction, is your own," Kurtiz continued. "Your subordinates' only shortcoming was in not fulfilling your duty when they saw you were not able to."
He spared an almost bored glance for the rest of the squad. "Even still, your failure requires censure. You are stripped of your evening rations for the next three days. Should I see any disobedience, the next punishment will be far harsher."

Daniel's jaw clenched as he looked back at his squad. He didn't need to see their face to feel their righteous indignation. "Keep going," he said. "I'll do my best to be back before nightfall."

With light starting to bleed out from the forest, the chances of that seemed unlikely.

The rest of his squad nodded, beginning to file back up the patrol path. Interestingly enough, Polenus and Geribeld followed after them.

Daniel walked over to the corpses, what he could make out of their faces still frozen in shock and terror. He grabbed the arms of the man and woman and began dragging them out into the forest, glancing up to see Quarrel, Julene, Galena, and Kurtiz watching. And though he didn't smile, Daniel could see the satisfaction in the man's eyes.

. . .

He was about half a kilometer out from the patrol route when he finally stopped in a small clearing pausing for a moment as he wiped the blood and gore from the faces of the two innocents.

Daniel regarded them silently, sighing quietly as he closed their eyes. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "For what little that matters now."

He considered the folding entrenchment tool that was in his pack. It was useful, but it would be too slow. He needed a larger, more powerful tool.

He looked down at his hand, then at the ground. If he was to use his powers, he could simply create planes of solid space to lift the ground out from the graves he was to dig. It would be done in an instant.

'No,' he resolved, focusing his power and tapping into another facet of his power. 'They deserve an honest effort, even now.'

As he put power into the Expression he made, a hazy, liquid-like crystal coalesced into existence, growing and flowing into the shape of a long, wide-bladed shovel before solidifying, Daniel gripping a crystalline tool that was as durable as ceramite.

He picked out the first grave and began to dig. As he continued in the task, he let his senses expand, a perimeter about 10 meters around him becoming a circle where none could enter, even behind him, without entering his notice.

The first grave was done as the evening began to turn into true night, Daniel's eyes sharpening to an inhuman degree to compensate for the lost light as he began to dig the second.

Figures became realized on the edges of his perception, one slowly becoming five, then ten, then fifteen. They did not move from their positions, and Daniel did not get the sense that they were either human or Ork. They remained too still for either. Humans, even Astartes, would fidget and shift, Orks even more so, even in an ambush. These figures… it was almost as if he were observing living statues.

He finished digging the second grave, climbing out of the hole and planting his shovel in the ground as he cleaned off his hands as best he could. Making his way over to the corpses, he gently guided their faces as close as he could manage into a visage of peaceful rest. Then, two more thumb-sized crystals appeared above a cupped right hand, and Daniel took them and placed them on the foreheads of the corpses.

He stood and stepped back as the crystals did their work, enveloping the corpses in the same opaque, quartz-like crystal that made up his shovel. In less than 2 minutes, they were completely enveloped, vague shapes instead of detailed carrion.

Daniel took a deep breath, reaching out and grabbing hold of the crystals with his soul and lifting them into their graves as one last soul entered his perception, directly behind him.

"Your powers are remarkable."

Daniel walked over to take the shovel before he turned and regarded the source of the feminine, slightly warped voice.

The form was taller than him by a remarkable amount, as tall as an Astartes, but its bulk came from the robes that swirled around an otherwise rather thin form wielding a tall, decorated glaive, long of blade. The robes, along with the tall, twin-plumed helmet, gauntlets, shoulder pads, chestplate, and armored boots that capped them, were black, glittering with a rainbow of colors almost like the black fire opal that was set into the brow of the faceless, purple-lensed helm.

The top of the helm showed a raised symbol in what looked like polished steel, what looked to be an anvil surrounding the crystal, with flames rising and swirling up from within. The chestplate was similarly decorated in patterns, both flowing and geometric, with an iridescent gemstone set in the sternum.

"You speak Low Gothic well," Daniel said as he commenced the task of fully burying the corpses. "Are you the Aeldari engaging the Orks on our periphery?"

"You are correct," the Aeldari figure replied. "Though I must admit, the Orks are a secondary concern."

"You want to talk to me," Daniel surmised. "Why?"

"You may be the key to helping us accomplish what we have set out to do. I have seen your disruption. Your very presence becomes evident in how it throws all prescience on its head, obscures the futures that were once seen as clear."

"You're remarkably straightforward for an Aeldari," Daniel remarked. "Do your compatriots around us share your bluntness?"

"The secretive, arcane ways of our race can only carry us so far," the figure replied. "If we are to attempt to find common cause and stand together with the rest of the galaxy we all inhabit, we cannot afford to appear overly mysterious or self-interested. We must be practical. Or at least, as practical as our mindset allows."

The statement made Daniel finally pause, and he looked at who he now recognized as, if not the Farseer of these Aeldari, then certainly a Seer of no small standing. "What Craftworld do you hail from?" he asked.

"We are of the Craftworld Vesuryan," the figure replied, reaching up to their helmet. "Not of the Great Worlds, but capable in and of ourselves."

Lifting it off as seals hissed, Daniel laid eyes on a striking figure, far more human in appearance than he would have figured, though the differences were apparent from the start. Fiery orange hair in a braided bun did nothing to conceal the tall, pointed ears, a tanned, almost sculpted face still landmarked by almond-shaped, cat-like green-gray eyes that were just a little too large to belong to any human.

"I am Farseer Lieth-Vían," the Farseer introduced herself, placing her free hand on her chest. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance at last."

Daniel nodded as he got back to work. "I am Daniel Theisman. Though there is every chance you may have already known that."

"Not your name," Lieth-Vían replied. "Only your face, and the immensity of your potential actions, are known to us. Though we may well be the only ones to take you so seriously in your potential as a uniting force."

"Uniting force?" Daniel asked. "What does that look like to you?"

"The futures have become obscured around you, as I have said," Lieth-Vían replied. "But through you, I see a desire to bring light to the galaxy, a hope that there is a better way for the people that inhabit it. It is a hope shared by our Craftworld."

Daniel focused for a moment. Yes, there it was. A gentle, deft psychic touch that brushed across his mind. "Despite the darkness of my soul, which you cannot see," he said, "or my unknown origin, you would trust me?"

"It is precisely because you are an unknown that we dare try," Lieth-Vían said. "Your powers, which I imagine have been hidden from your peers, lend weight to our hope."

Daniel looked Lieth-Vían intently in the eye. "Do you wish to know who I am?" he asked quietly. "See the depths of my soul?"

The question unnerved the Aeldari woman somewhat, her expression of hesitation far more evident than Daniel had been expecting. "If it may gain your trust, I will bare my life to you as well," she finally said.

Daniel arched a brow as he finished his work, the shovel vanishing. "And you expect a human to fully comprehend such?"

"Something tells me that though your form is human, your mind and soul only cling to the vestiges of such classification," Lieth-Vían said quietly. "There is a… weight suffusing your memories. One that only a life lived as long as ours can produce."

Daniel was silent for a moment as he chewed on the words, then he nodded. "Very well. I will create the bridge between our souls. Prepare yourself."

He began to create a Framework between their souls, feeling Lieth-Vían's preparations as she psychically strengthened her mind. It was a noble effort. But ultimately futile in terms of sharing from soul to soul.

Even still, he put an insubstantial barrier around his soul, a filter that would slightly dampen the emotive power of such memories as she would see. The empathetic nature of the Aeldari was not something to trample on carelessly.

And then… it began.

He saw a life lived in a moving, living world whose glimmering, gleaming beauty was a pale shadow of past glories. Or at least so her elders had taught her. But, those elders said, such glory came at a grievous cost. He saw, towering over a girl, fleshless constructs imbued with life. Wraith constructs. But unlike what Daniel expected, these Wraiths weren't cages to her. They were… second chances. A new lease on life to retain not only their guidance but their strength of arms.

She had learned at the feet of her father, one of the Council of Vaul, chief patron of this Craftworld, and one lesson either stood out most of all to her or was drawn specifically from her memories for this moment. "We held ourselves above the galaxy, losing sight of what our forefathers had fought and died for in the War in Heaven," he'd said one time. "Because we lost sight of the galaxy we saved, how our actions affected it and the Thoughtsea beneath it, our hubris and excess birthed the destroyer of our empire and our gods."

"Never lose sight of the wider galaxy as we did, flicker-gem. As many in our species still do to some extent. This galaxy matters. Which means that those who occupy it matter."

Her eyes went wide at the statement. "Even those who do evil within it? Those that aren't as intelligent or developed as we are?"

Her father had sighed. "Advancement is not a ladder. It is a wide path. Where we may be learned in one area, another will be quite ahead of us in another. We must learn from all of them if we are to truly be wise."

"And there will always be those that do evil, Lieth," he'd continued, "just as there are noble, good-hearted souls in every race. We were never any exception. Here, allow me to show you something."

He had led her to an artifact crafted by the great Bhechelia the Silverweaver, a mirror that reacted to the mind and memories of whoever stood before it. Her father had stood there for a moment before the surface of the mirror rippled and became a viewport, a window out into the cosmos deep within the Craftworld that showed a star. Its hue shifted in a swirling rainbow of colors that entranced her.

"Your grandmother was instrumental in the ignition of this star, a monument to our power and artistry that was to remain for millions, even billions of years," her father said. "It was her life's crowning achievement. It stood as a monument for 8,000 years."

She frowned. "What… happened to it?"

The sadness on her father's face was, as ever for all her kind, an imperfect mirror of the sorrow held fast and tight within his heart. "It was judged that the Star could provide power for an official's opulent palace, a place of hedonism and vice. It tapped into the core of the star itself, regardless of her protestations."

"So one of our own killed the star?" she asked as the view changed, and the star became drained of its color, more than a few dark spots scattered across its surface.
"To no small extent," her father replied. "But it was also exploited by the forces of the Great Enemy, exploding in time during a battle between the forces of the humans and their corrupted counterparts. Either way, what they finished, our kind started, because we stopped caring for what we had created. For the galaxy we had created to surround this one star."

The image faded away, and her father knelt to consider her face-to-face. "It is a dangerous thing we do, to care so deeply. But we must bear out the danger of the Devourer's potential attention. For if there is no one who cares for the betterment of things and the hope of standing together in the light, then all will be lost, alone in the dark."

She'd carried those words with her after her father's body perished in battle, joining their Craftworld's Infinity Circuit. They would remain in her heart as she ascended the ranks of the Seers, then became Farseer, joining the Council of Vaul in her father's place. They were only one Craftworld, 40 million souls in a galaxy of trillions where even those among her own kind doubted and scorned their mission. There was only so much one Craftworld could do. But they had to try.

Daniel let the vision, the memories of a long life, fade, and his vision returned to the darkening forest, taking in the shock and awe thoroughly evident in her expression.
After long moments, she withdrew, and Daniel dispelled the link between them. "Now you know," Daniel said quietly.

"You journey through realms I could only dream of," Lieth-Vían said, her voice a husky whisper. "You have seen this universe in all its madness, traveled through the Thoughtsea. Have you… seen us?"

Daniel shook his head. "No. Not before now. But you and I truly are in accord, it seems. You and I both know that any attempt at an alliance with the Imperium is doomed for now, but I am not the Imperium. And things shall change, with our patience."

Lieth-Vían nodded. "Indeed they shall. Though outright alliance may be impossible here, you shall have our aid in dislodging the Orks from their fortress in the mountains of this world. As well…"

She reached into her robes, and pulled from their depths a blood-red stone, holding it out to him. "Please, take this," she said.
Daniel approached and took the flat, oval, palm-sized stone, regarding its inner glow intently. "A Soul Stone?" he said, slightly in awe. "You would trust me with such an artifact?"

"An Emissary Stone," Lieth-Vían corrected gently. "Connected to our Infinity Circuit through the Webway. You are the first human to receive such a gift. We hope that you treat the soul inside well. He has been anxious to fulfill his duty."

Daniel nodded as he put the Stone in a covert pouch. "I look forward to meeting with him. And I am grateful that you are so… forward, for those among the Craftworlds."

Lieth-Vían nodded. "Our isolation from our peers has been hard to bear at times. But for a moment such as this, it has all been made worth it."

Daniel smiled slightly. "I know the feeling. I must return to camp now, to prove that I yet live after my grim task."

"You will go under our protection," Lieth-Vían said, replacing her helm. "No Orks shall molest you on your way."

Daniel nodded, replacing his helmet. "Best of luck to you until we meet again."

"To you as well."

. . .

Daniel took his walk in silence, pondering the implications of what had just transpired. And what the words at the end meant.
'This corner of the galaxy seems to be reserved for the outliers and the outcasts,' he mused. 'Any other place and time, they're either forgotten, or trampled underfoot by the less caring, self-centered majority of the galaxy.'

'But here… there's a chance.'

He saw the lights of camp as he smiled slightly at that last thought, the smile disappearing as he took off his helmet to prove himself to the sentries. And, standing alongside them, the rest of his squad.

He paused in front of them. "What news while I was gone?"

The squad looked at each other. "The door was opened when we arrived," Galen said. "Commissar Galena radioed back to the city, so we'll start transferring munitions in the next few days."

Daniel closed his eyes and sighed quietly. "What damnable timing."

"If nothing else," Leona said, "I think Commissar Galena put a healthy fear of the God-Emperor into Alberich after we got back here. You should have seen the look on his face when he stepped out of her tent."

"One can hope the lesson sticks," Daniel said. After a moment, he shook his head. "I have reports I'm sure I need to go over in the command tent. Get your sleep. It'll get you ready for a busy day and help my paperwork go a little faster."

"The joys of command," Iago said slightly sardonically. "You must be in charge of more data-slates and sheets of flimsy than actual men and machinery right now."

Daniel smiled slightly. "And don't I know it. Good night to you. We'll get back to things as regular as we can make them tomorrow."

The squad dispersed, Daniel making his way to the command tent. Closing the tent behind him and activating the lantern, he saw, as expected, a pile of flimsies and data-slates waiting on the corner of the folding desk. Along with a roll of paper.

'What's this?' he wondered as he took a seat down, taking the paper and breaking the seal.

It was a rather perfunctory, but eloquent letter, written expertly in ink.

'Captain Daniel Theisman,

I compose this letter, signed on paper that is usually consigned to death warrants, in the hope for your expeditious return. Were we to lose you, from what testimony is offered by those under your command, it would be a waste and a tragedy of high order. If you are reading this, then we retain a skilled, competent soldier among the ranks of the Imperium. If not, then the seal of the Commissariat will not be broken except by myself to burn this letter.

As well, you still owe me some from our last game of Kipelsi. I don't take money or service from dead men, so live, damn it.

Senior Commissar Insella Galena'

Daniel hummed softly, smiling slightly as he folded the letter, opening a pocket space in which to store it. 'How fortunate I'm so well regarded by a ranking Commissar. Or at least my skills at betting.'

With the most remarkable document out of the way, he pulled the Emissary Stone from its pouch, looking into it with his Sight and, as expected, finding a soul within. A

remarkably well-constructed soul as well, with enough Framework around it to suggest sapience.

He threw out a Framework like a line, a tether to his soul connecting with the one held within.

The Emissary, unsurprisingly, was… rather startled by this. "Oh! This is… odd."
"Well met, emissary,"
Daniel said, his voice silent as he set the stone back in his pouch and turned to his work. "I am Daniel Theisman. I was told you were prepared to meet with me."

"To the best extent possible," the Emissary admitted. "Though I cannot say I was fully prepared for something quite like this. You…"

Daniel allowed the Emissary to see into his soul, opening it and his memories for his perusal. "What is your name?" he asked.

"Ah," the Emissary said after a moment. "I am Lodhem Sessela, Emissary to the Craftworld Vesuryan, and humble acolyte of Vaul."

Daniel smiled slightly. "Well met, Lodhem. We have much to discuss, I am sure."

"Not the least of which are these beings in the Thoughtsea you have recently uncovered. Who are they?"

Daniel's smile widened. "Allow me to enlighten you."