Saint Summer the Huntress

by Korykr

To most death is the end. To some death is a doorway. To Summer death is a beginning. Separated from her home and family, she must carve her way across a galaxy in flames in order to return to them. Nothing would get in her way. Not aliens, monsters, daemons, or evil gods. She would return to Remnant and leave her mark on the galaxy.

16. Chapter 16

RWBY belongs to Viz Media.

Warhammer 40k belongs to Games Workshop.

Chapter 16: Mission Confirmed-Seek the Foe-Punish the Foe-Ensure Compliance

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"A single blade in the dark is worth a thousand at dawn."

-Assassinorum proverb

---

The loud squeal of the saw blade racked across the chamber. It was a threatening high-pitched shriek that promised to rend the flesh should a combatant be less than adequately skilled to avoid or destroy it. The combat servitor with the saw blade attachment for a right arm trundled forward on its augmented legs. Using its highly augmented legs, tailored for speed and maneuverability, a rarity even for a combat servitor, it crossed the caged arena within the span of two seconds. Raising its saw bladed arm, it delivered a downward swipe, intending to bisect its target.

Irtanna jinked to the side, avoiding the attack by a hair's breadth. Using her sudden momentum, she jumped away, she landed hands first on the ground and vaulted herself further from her opponent. Coming to a landing that resulted in a slight slide across the cold steel floor of the practice cage, she activated her weapon, the Phase Sword. From the wrist-mounted device on her arm fueled by a cable attached to the subtle but powerful energy cell on her belt, a glowing green blade sprang out.

The servitor was on her the next second, the saw arched towards her left and Irtanna bend backward almost ninety degrees. The saw passed harmlessly over her; bringing her lithe form up straight, she quickly spaced out her legs in for the incoming follow through. It came exactly as she predicted. The wide sweep had failed to take her head, so the servitor had raised its weapon arm for another downward chop. As the tool of death descended, Irtanna sidestepped the trajectory of the attack and brought her own weapon upward. Before the cogitator in the servitor's skull could register this and correct its assault, the green blade of the Phase Sword cleaved the mechanical limber in two.

The severance sent the fore of the limb clattering to the floor, the final instance of the saw's spine made it sound as if it were slowly dying. The threatening buzz quickly losing its pitch until it became a low growl of mechanized contempt over being denied its one purpose.

Irtanna wasted no time to back away from the servitor as the sudden click alerted her that it was about to utilize its remaining arm. The servitor raised its belt fed autogun and opened fire upon the assassin. The Callidus leaped away and enacted a series of complex summersaults, twisting and contorting her body mid air in order to evade the volley of bullets being levied against her. Every movement was deliberate, every muscle contraction was controlled and precise, nothing was left to muscle memory or instinct.

Those were preprogrammed responses, same as the subroutines the servitor was following. In humans they were an extension of the self, and the self was normally dominant. However, these were the same as trusting a subroutine. It could be wrong it could make mistakes. Had she trusted her muscle memory as she vaulted away, three bullets would have pierced her left thigh had she not raised it a further thirty degrees than she normally would.

This was the way of the Callidus; the self did not control them as it did the other Temples. They controlled the self; molding and shaping it to suit their needs and best serve them in the moment. Not just in their ability to assume the identities and lives of others, but in the absolute control of their very bodies.

She was aware of the bullets coming her way and aware of every subtle change to her position that needed to be made to keep herself from harm. No movement was without her deliberate will, nothing was trusted to instinct.

As she twirled and danced, anyone watching from above would see that she was moving around the servitor in a spiral. As she danced past the seemingly endless hail of bullets, she closed the distance with each leap, bound and rebound.

Once she was close enough, she jumped high. With serpent quick movements, she pulled one of her poisoned knives from the belt on her thigh and hurled it into the wrist joint of the servitor's arm. The joint seized up as the knife jammed the gears which allowed the limb to move, and the still firing gun failed to track the assassin's next leap.

Irtanna spun horizontally above the servitor and severed its remaining arm with a precise cut from her Phase Sword. The front portion of the autogun fell to the steel floor, shells spilled out from the cut ammo feed as it too flopped to the floor.

Landing gracefully, she twirled on the servitor, from her other thigh belt, she pulled out a punch dagger and rammed it into the chest of her adversary.

Silence fell on the practice cage as the stared at her foe in victory, her long braid of golden hair falling still after an endless series of thrashes and whips caused by her speed and frantic movements. The servitor watched her, its glowing red eye lens pulsed and then went out.

The robotic slave fell backward, the force of its fall freed her dagger from its desiccated flesh. It hit the ground with a ringing thud as its metal pieces met the steel floor.

Clapping was heard from above and Irtanna looked up to register her audience for the first time since the servitor had entered the ring with her. The practice cage chamber on the Silver Bullet had two levels. One for arming their gear and programming the combat servitors to their set parameters and another for observation and evaluation. After all, who better to judge the combat readiness of a member of the Assassinorum than another member of the Officio.

Up on the observation level, Summer clapped slowly, a fellow student in the killing arts praising the skill of another. Irtanna knew Summer was analyzing her throughout the entire engagement. It was something the Callidus had noticed early on about her and was partly why the assassin had warmed to her so quickly. While she acted aloof and overly friendly, her title as the Emperor's Huntress was not unearned in Irtanna's eyes. Every new scrap of information on both quarry and potential ally was catalogued in that mind of hers to be utilized in her next hunt.

She was more like them than she would ever admit.

Rain watched on with the fascination of the newly inducted. Irtanna had put on a show and now the girl was dazzled to the point of wanting to partake in the process. Summer had made her intent to train the girl clear enough.

Perhaps someday they will share the ring.

To the side of the child, the gyrinx sat and yawned. It had gotten bigger and now was at shoulder height with the girl.

Irtanna gave her audience and elaborate bow as the doors to the practice cage opened. Two of the ship's black-robed servitors walked in. One gathered the severed pieces of the of the combat servitor's weaponry while the other dragged the combat servitor out.

No one paid them any mind as they performed their duty in silence.

Summer leaped over the railing and landed on the arena floor with ease. The Huntress approached the Callidus and glanced down at the mess of shells on the floor which the servitors would return to clean in a moment.

"Was it necessary to use live rounds?" she asked, the slight note of a reprimand in her voice. Irtanna suspected the Huntress was worried when the gun was firing.

Irtanna's Phase Sword retracted itself, the blade sliding back into the wrist mount. The silver eyes of her team leader watched it with a fascination that she had only seen in those of the Cult Mechanicus. Even though Irtanna had already shown Summer the weapon, she still could not take her eyes off it.

"You will find that the best form of training is the type where the danger of the scenario they mimic is real."

Irtanna ran her foot across the floor, the cold metal of the autogun shells pushed against the black of her synskin and rolled away when she stopped.

"If we know we cannot be harmed by our foe then we run the risk of getting sloppy. That is death in our profession."

"I doubt that justifies putting yourself in danger before we're given our first mission."

The Callidus smiled and whipped her braid behind her head. "I disagree. What use is normal training for people like us?"

Summer tilted her head and looked to the side. Then she looked back up to the observation level where Rain was petting the gyrinx. "Yeah. You're not wrong."

The Huntress turned back to the Callidus. "Still, I find it a bit much. I mean, you only have that body glove thing. One stray would be all it takes to limit you for the next mission at best."

Irtanna had spent more time in the practice cages than any other initiate at the Temple and she had honed her killing art to a monomolecular edge. She would sooner turn her own Neural Shredder on herself than let a combat servitor do her in.

"Should that ever happen, I would politely ask you to lobotomize me."

Summer narrowed her eyes at the jest. "I'm being serious."

"I know you are," Irtanna grinned. "And so am I just in a different manner."

With a sigh, the Huntress crossed her arms, then she blinked as she realized something. "Fine, but if you're going to commit to this then I need to do something first."

Now it was Irtanna's turn to be confused. "And what might that be?"

"Just hold still," said the Huntress as she grabbed Irtanna's synskin covered hands.

The Callidus felt a strange sensation wash over her body as the Huntress glowed white with an almost ethereal power. When the glow reached the assassin, it spread to her body, but rather than a white glow like Summer, Irtanna glowed with a light blue. The sensation spread throughout her body, and it left a lasting sense of surety after the Huntress released her grip.

"There," said Summer with a chipper smile.

Irtanna glanced down at herself as the glow around her feminine form peaked and began to fade. The feeling was odd, but she detected no physical differences in her bodily structure. Irtanna trusted Summer so she knew it was not some sort of psychic alteration or sorcerous spell. Unlike when she utilized polymorphine, the change somehow felt natural. Like she was meant to achieve it but didn't know how to unlock it.

"What did you just do to me?" she asked, no anger nor accusation in her voice.

"Just a little insurance in case you bite off a bit more than you can chew," replied the Huntress with a wink.

Irtanna frowned, nearly irked by that statement. Then she saw the joke for what it was. Just a playful jest between those who cared. It was an odd thing, to care about someone else again. That was a feeling she had long thought was beaten out of her. It was nice.

Then Irtanna got an idea, one they both could enjoy while giving the child something to fire her enthusiasm further. "Bite off more than I can chew huh?"

Summer backed away just in time as the Phase Sword extended from the wrist mount to cut the air between them. Summer landed a few feet away, no shock was on her face, almost like she was expecting such an action.

Reaching behind her, Summer drew her unusual combi weapon. Somehow a combination of a Vindicare's Exitus Rifle, or some variant based off the same design, and a Custodian's Guardian Spear. The blade of the weapon, now fully unfolding into the form of a spear that Summer appeared to favor so much, crackled with the psychic might of its wielder.

Rain watched with renewed interest as the Huntress began to pace around the edge of the practice cage. The servitors outside shut the door as their sophisticated cogitators registered that an unorthodox practice session had been initiated.

Irtanna also began to pace around the chamber, her footfalls deliberately spaced for quick bursts of speed. Summer's, by contrast, was calm and expectant, but Irtanna would not be fooled as she had been during their first bout. The Huntress was more than capable of matching the Callidus' speed with her own.

It was not the first time they had dueled since the formation of Team SILVER. The Huntress had taken the assassin by surprise by using her opportunistic fighting style against her to lay a trap mid-battle during their first match.

Summer had a happy smile on her face as she slowly paced around the arena. It showed she was not surprised by her teammate's actions in the slightest.

"You were expecting that?" asked Irtanna, realizing that Summer's response had not been instinctual reaction to sudden danger. "Did you hear my thoughts?"

"No," answered the Huntress with a shrug. "My old partner used to do this type of thing all the time. Guess I'm just used to it."

The smile vanished and her expression became that of a focused hunter. The spear spun in her hands before she took a stance that told of an incoming charge. "Now come on, since you wanted this."

Irtanna braced herself as the Huntress took her first steps. Had she not fought Summer before, what followed would have taken her off guard. Her leader had the appearance and mannerisms of the average human, it was all too easy to underestimate her.

Summer crossed the arena in a fraction of the time it had taken the combat servitor to do it, the blade-tip of her spear already closing in on Irtanna's stomach. With a twist of her torso, the Callidus just barely managed to avoid disembowelment before bending her body back. That has saved her from the follow-through, keeping the rear end of the spear from cracking her jaw.

Allowing the momentum to carry her, she fell to the floor, hands and feet now held her belly up in an arched position. Before Summer could continue the attack, Irtanna brought both legs into the air and kicked the Huntress back.

Summer skidded three meters away and watched as Irtanna somehow used the momentum of her falling legs to carry her back to a standing position.

"You have to teach me some of you training methods," said the Huntress, a form of praise. When she asked to be taught something, it was a subconscious acknowledgement of worth.

"Maybe I can show you," said Irtanna with a smile that mimicked the one Summer wore at the start of their spar. "But only if you reveal what you did to me."

The smile returned to the Huntress so that they were now mirroring each other's expressions. "No telling. You are the better liar, but I'm better at keeping secrets."

"Is that a fact?"

"Yup," Summer said before once again pouncing on the assassin.

It was another long thrust; Irtanna jinked away from the blow, engaging in a series of acrobatics, but unlike the servitor who could only track her with an autogun, Summer kept pace. The glowing force blade trailed after Irtanna's every movement.

With a twist of her torso, she met the ground with a handstand, but rather than bringing her feet up in a double kick, she spun around. Her hands guided the centrifugal force of her body, and she performed a perfect split of her legs while both upside down and spinning. With a slight tilt of her abdomen and sweep of her newly angled arch of attack, she kicked Summer's leg out from under her.

This did not bring the Huntress down, but it did ruin her balance, forcing her relentless assault to halt. Irtanna did not waste the opportunity brought on by the stagger and righted herself instantly before closing the distance on her terms. Phase Sword drawn in her right hand and punch dagger in her left.

The Huntress took a step back to reorient herself as she met the Callidus' assault with a series of surprisingly quick parries. It was difficult to defend with such a large weapon when your opponent was almost right in your face, but Summer managed to fend of the incoming instruments of murder with consummate skill.

The Phase Sword was either avoided or intercepted at the wrist mount. Luckily Irtanna was too close for the blade of the spear to be used properly, or the Huntress could have severed her arm. The punch dagger got closer due to the emphasis on the Phase sword, but at the expense of the body of the spear repeatedly battering at Irtanna's arm.

Irtanna felt the pain of the blunt force impact on her body. The synskin absorbed the shock as per usual, but she noticed it was less than it should have been. That strange blue glow from before had returned, appearing only on the areas where the spear met synskin. Irtanna registered but asked no questions.

Summer gave ground as the assassin continued to try and force an opening. Whomever controlled the momentum and aggression controlled the battle. This was no honor duel where it was a careful dance of blades. This was a contest between two killers of differing fields. Each testing to see who's craft was the superior in a direct confrontation and who had a greater mastery of the killing arts.

The spear twirled and Irtanna failed to react in time to what came next. When the bud of the spear was pointed at the Callidus, a loud bang sounded and the bud of the spear shot forward like a bullet, it rammed into Irtanna's stomach with the force of a sledgehammer.

The blue glow returned again as the breath was knocked out of Irtanna's lungs. The shock threatened to disorient her, but mustering her force of will, she steadied herself and landed cleanly. Looking down, the glow covered most of her torse now. That was when she realized that the impact did not hurt as much as it should have. That strike contained the force of a high caliber sniper shot behind it, even if it lacked the penetrative power, it should have been felt in her bones.

As comprehension began to dawn on her, Summer attacked with a wide two-handed sweep. Irtanna did not bend this time, but rather she jumped. Propelling herself above the arching blade, she pulled her right arm back, the Phase Sword ready to strike as if she were about to land a skull shattering punch.

The green blade did not strike home as the Huntress pulled her head to the side. When Irtanna crashed into the Huntress, trying to force her to the ground, Summer pushed her upward with the body of the spear. With a surprising level of strength, she managed to send the assassin summersaulting across the arena.

Irtanna corrected her trajectory mid-air and landed with a dancer's grace. Both combatants were watching each other now. Irtanna felt thrilled, so few of her fellow initiates had ever given her this much of a challenge and fewer of her Temple bothered to spar with her once their training was completed.

To have someone like Summer here to train with, to further hone her prowess was a blessing from the God-Emperor.

Irtanna must not have been schooling her expression as the Huntress' smile returned. Raising her spear, Summer leveled it at the Callidus, the intent to fire clear in how her posture rearranged itself.

Irtanna wanted to reach for her Neural Shredder to tilt the playing field in her favor, but she had left it in the armory. It was an unsanctioned weapon in the practice cages. As it fried the organic components of the servitors, leaving them unable to be repaired after training drills. Her poisoned daggers came to mind, but Summer had blocked those with the psychic shield coating her body before and that would not have changed now.

Seeing no other alternative, Irtanna charged at Summer. The barrel of the combi weapon spat fire at her and Irtanna jolted from side to side, using every ounce of strength to keep herself one step ahead of that gun.

On the fourth shot, the distance was closed and the Phase Sword struck. The green blade would have struck true had Summer not suddenly vanished into a cloud of red and white flower petals. The cloud surged upward and reformed into the woman it was before. Summer descended with the intent to screw Irtanna with the head of the spear, which would have happened were it not for a last second dive on Irtanna's part.

Having regained the initiative, Summer pressed her attack, sending a flurry of strikes at the assassin. Now Irtanna gave ground, and the arena suddenly felt claustrophobic as the pressure mounted. The Callidus knew she was close to the edge of the cage and knew Huntress was trying to pigeonhole her.

But a member of the Callidus Temple is not so easily restrained. Abandoning her defense, she leaped backward, nearly earning a strike to the head from the force blade and placed both feet against a horizontal bar of the cage.

Drawing her poisoned daggers, she hurled them at the Huntress just as she hurled herself up high. The implements of death were batted aside by a defensive twirl of the spear while Irtanna rolled away.

Now the two were at a standstill once again. Staring each other down while assessing their options for tackling the obstacle that was the other's skillset. Then Irtanna retracted her Phase Sword and spread her arms wide.

"Go on," said the assassin. "I figured out your little secret."

Summer's smile widened as she brought her weapon to bear. A single round left the barrel and slammed into Irtanna's shoulder. The blue glow flared around her joint as her synskin helped to tend to the sudden trauma her body felt.

The pain was molten fire on her upper arm, ribs and collarbone, the sudden intensity was enough to bring her down to one knee. The blue glow remained for longer this time but only dimmed as the pain receded. Was it helping her body's natural recovery processes?

More than that, the glow shielded her from the full power of that shot. Even without specialized ammunition, a shot from that rifle should have taken her arm off.

Irtanna looked up at her leader while clutching her shoulder. "You somehow spread your protective aegis to me?"

Summer raised her spear upright in a more relaxed posture. "More like I gave you one of your own."

When the glow was gone, so was the pain, along with any sort of discomfort she felt. Irtanna stood and flexed her shoulder and arm muscles. Finding nothing wrong, she gave them a stretch and marveled at the gift she had been given.

Bringing her Phase Sword out once more, Irtanna signaled her desire to continue their duel. Summer lowered her stance in reply but a sharp clap from above made them both halt in their tracks.

"That's enough of that."

Both of them turned to the observation level to see Lucia leaning over the railing. There was a bemused smile on her face while she petted the gyrinx. That all knowing expression that said she knew something that everyone else didn't. Such was the same for the last two Vanus assassin's Irtanna had worked with. At least Lucia didn't constantly smoke, so that was one upside to this arrangement.

Summer returned her weapon to its compact form before addressing the official information specialist of their team. "Is something wrong?"

"Not at all," said Lucia, her tone light and friendly. "We are receiving a hail from the Macragge's Honor."

"Guilliman is contacting us?"

"Yes, and I figured it would be more appropriate to have our team leader present when he gives us our first assignment," said the Vanus with that lighthearted attitude he had made her staple.

Summer turned her attention to her ward, who was watching the exchange with a puzzled look. Apparently, the girl had not advanced enough in her education despite all the lessons provided to her during the Warp transit to this system.

"Rain, go to the library. I'll be with you later."

"Yes miss," said the child obediently. She soon scampered off with the gyrinx on her heels.

"Have you told the others?" asked Summer.

"I have."

"Then let's go."

---

The halls of the Silver Bullet were silent, the only sound that could be heard was the soft tread of their feet and shoes, accompanied by the steady rhythm of the ship's mechanisms. Summer had become accustomed to the strange calmness of the ship shortly after boarding. The ship was silent, but it was neither cold nor empty.

Activity was always found somewhere. The strange servitors roamed the ship constantly, always checking and maintaining the systems that had protected them during their voyage through the Warp. The assassins were always up and about, checking and rechecking their preparations for any sort of mission they could be given.

The strange atmosphere reminded Summer of her youth in the forests around Vale. How she was surrounded by a sort of quiet that held the promise of life and excitement. It was not a silence that set a chill in your bones but one that helped focus and sharpen the mind.

Most of her youth had been spent in such an environment. Those days when she trained with her mother the forests were just as much a part of her training as were the Grimm she had to face before her time at Beacon began.

This effect was likely unintentional, but she liked it regardless. It suited her more than the hustle and bustle of a military camp or the frantic activity of a battleship's crew. There was a certain freedom to it that she found appealing.

The ship was calm, but ready to animate itself at the drop of a coin, and said coin was about to drop very soon.

Lucia led the way to the briefing room where Razuun and Vitalii were waiting. Both in the exact same seats that they were in previously, the difference was that both were unmasked this time, and they lacked their implements of death.

Lucia took her seat as it was during their first meeting, the dataslate she had before was already set out on the dark oak briefing table. Irtanna took her seat with a final stretch, focusing on the shoulder where Summer had shot her earlier.

The Huntress was the last to take her seat, leaving the five of them positioned around the table in a pentagon. All of them waited expectantly for their leader to begin the ritual. The assassins took their jobs seriously alright, despite her almost chipper attitude, Lucia would not begin without Summer's consent. The Primarch had given her command of this specialized force and to disregard her was to disrespect him. Not to mention the Master of Assassins.

"Is everyone ready?" asked the Huntress; she wanted to get a read on the room, a habit carried over from her time leading Team STRQ.

Every member of Team SILVER gave a nod, Irtanna and Razuun were casual, choosing not to be too uptight while Vitalii displayed the professionalism he had always shown. Lucia's nod was friendly but had a level of seriousness to it that showed she was not simply being a yes woman.

Summer turned to the Vanus. "Okay, let's put the Guilliman through."

Taking up the dataslate, Lucia began to type, and the projector came to life. A moment later a ghostly blue figure materialized above the center of the table. Roboute Guilliman had appeared before them, and all rose in greeting to their Lord Commander.

Summer noted Guilliman's projection was of a far greater quality than what she had seen on any of the larger voidships and even many of the hololithic tables used by the Astartes. This ship really was of the highest quality.

Guilliman had not appeared before them in his full glory, only his upper torso and above were shown, leaving his arms to disappear into the wood of the table.

"Lord Guilliman," greeted Summer in the cordial tone she had practiced for him.

"Summer," returned the Primarch, a welcome smile on his face. "I trust the ship is to your liking?"

Summer's polite smile became slightly wider. "It is more than I ever anticipated."

The hologram of Guilliman began to rotate, evidently his end was receiving their images in the reverse of how they were viewing him. Their images were likely projected all at once around his projector pad and he was at the center.

The Primarch examined each assassin one by one. While all of them showed the initial signs of what Summer had become used to when people saw him for the first time, they all schooled their expressions. This was a briefing, and they put their profession first.

"This must be Team SILVER," stated Guilliman, facing Summer once again. "A fitting designation, given my purpose for you."

"And that of the ship?" suggested Summer with a grin.

The Primarch's smile widened as well. "I see you noticed that. A bit of indulgence on my part but I suspected you would appreciate some poetic humor. Indeed, the name is a bit of a giveaway but given the nature of your existence and your skillset, I surmised this was the most optimal avenue for you."

Guilliman turned to the rest of the team. "Do any of you know what a silver bullet represents?"

Lucia raised her hand almost eagerly. Guilliman turned to her and nodded. "According to ancient Terran folklore dating back to the time of Old Earth, a silver bullet was deemed to be the only solution to fiendishly deadly foes. The fabled werewolf, vampire and other such supernatural beings deemed to be immortal. No standard human armaments could truly damage them, save for the silver bullet. In later contemplations of the myth, the silver bullet was deemed to be a metaphor for a seemingly magical solution to complex problems."

Guilliman nodded, pleased with the Vanus' explanation. "That is correct Operative Lucia. A solution to complex problems. That is what you are. Team SILVER is my solution to complex situations that I myself would be too occupied to deal with."

Guilliman raised his limbs, and they appeared in the projection, a gesture of welcome and acknowledgement. "Now please sit. I shall not press on ceremony when we have important matters to discuss."

Team SILVER did as they were told and took their seats. Summer placed her hands on the table and balled them together. "What is situation, Lord Commander?"

At the mention of his title, Guilliman's smile fell away, replaced with the focused stare of a warlord. "We have just arrived within the Pralthax system."

The star system in question appeared before Guilliman as his hologram rearranged itself on the projector so all presents had a clear view. Four spheres floated before him, there were the planets of the system and in the off to the far side was their sun.

"Prime, Secundus and Tertius," named the Primarch with each corresponding planet flashing in tune with his voice. "These three worlds make up the system and shall be our first acts of compliance for the Indomitus Crusade."

Summer glanced around the table; her team were razor focused on the Primarch's words. For some reason, she half expected some of them to only pay half attention. As was the norm with her old team. Was the weight of her position getting to her again? She pushed the thought aside as she remined herself that her days with STRQ were over.

"Sensorium sweeps and astropathic probing have revealed a notable traitor presence on Tertius. The local Imperial presence has been toppled, if the reports are accurate."

"Is the planet tainted?" asked Summer, recalling the more extreme cases she had confronted during the Ultramar campaign.

"No reports of daemonic activity have been detected. However, we are still a ways away, so it is best to not hold our luck."

Summer noticed the way the rest of her team tensed at the mention of daemons. Guess even the proud assassins were wise enough not to underestimate such a foe.

"I shall be leading the Astartes contingent of the fleet to Tertius to deal with them. As for Secundus, I am deploying the rest of the fleet to secure it. A mass rebellion has sprouted there, likely created by the traitors and brought to the boiling point. That shall be left to the Imperial Guard."

"And Prime?"

"That is the topic I wish to discuss with you," he said as the globe representing the systems capital enlarged, pushed all other celestial bodies out of the projection. "Pralthax Prime has not answered to any astropathic missives. Our augurs do not detect anything amiss. The planet has no defense fleet but there are no traitor elements in orbit around it as far as we can tell. Either they are deliberately ignoring us or something has happened there."

Guilliman swiped his hand over the image, swatting it away as he felt there was no further need of it. "This is not something I can ignore, but neither can I disregard the more present and visible threats within the system."

He looked down at Summer. "This is why I am calling upon your skills. I cannot commit my forces to a blind action. For all I know, Prime could be facing a full insurrection, or they may have turned their backs on the Imperium. Before any action is taken, I must know what has happened. Your mission is to go to Pralthax Prime and assess the situation."

"And depending on what we find, what are your orders?"

Guilliman's smile returned in that moment. "Should you find any threats then I expect you to deal with it accordingly. Such is your prerogative."

The Huntress gave a nod of understanding. "How much time do we have?"

"The traitor elements of Tertius should take three standard Terran days to quash. With the number of Guard forces being deployed, the compliance of Secundus should take four, and that includes the departure. By Prime's rotational speed you should have a week according to local time. Once both worlds are secure, I shall advance to Prime. I expect a full situation report before that."

Another nod. "Consider it done, my Lord."

Guilliman turned to the rest of Team SILVER who watched him expectantly. "Our mission is to save the Imperium, not simply slay its enemies. I understand that you were brought up as weapons. I ask that you carry yourselves with care. I have brought you all together for a simple purpose. You shall be the force I call upon when no others shall do. You are the silver bullet of Indomitus."

With a final turn, Guilliman looked at Summer with a look that spoke of trust. "I leave the rest to you, Huntress."

Then he disappeared, leaving the briefing room in a state of silence. It was brief as Summer was never one to languish on fancy speeches.

"How long before we arrive at Prime?" she asked Lucia.

"We can be there in less than ten hours if we break off from the formation now," answered the Vanus.

Summer gave a nod and turned to the rest of her team. They were all slightly different but there was a common sense of purpose amongst them. A greater tie that unified them all despite the clear rivalries their Temples had instilled within them.

"Okay, let's take a break and prepare. We meet on the bridge when we reach Prime's orbit."

She watched them go without a word. All of them had a drive in their strides. It was like nothing she had seen from any huntsman on Remnant, not even James had this level of focus, and he had a semblance for it. They knew what they were and what they were meant for. There were no more jabs, no more playful pokes at other Temples. While that may come later, they knew the time and place where they could afford it. It was not now, not when they needed to ensure everything was perfect for their first mission as a team. Proving who was better was nothing compared to fulfilling their purpose.

Summer glanced down at her new cloak and held the fabric in her hands for a moment. A memory forced its way to the fore and she bashed it away. It was of her first mission with STRQ; an utter disaster that nearly got them all killed.

With her face set in a neutral frown, she silently vowed not to let this mission be a repeat of that fiasco.

The Huntress sighed before she too got up and walked out the door.

---

Lucia sat in the pilot's chair of the Silver Bullet as it soared through the blackness of space, parting it like a knife. While her eyes were set on the image of her control station at the very center of the modestly small bridge, she was aware of everything that was happening both around her and the ship. Cables snaked out from previously concealed augments on her spine and arms into the terminal before her, allowing her to directly interface with the ship's systems. Every sensor sweep, every ping on her augurs, even the heat levels of the engines were all felt by her. Every system in the ship was hers to command and she manipulated them as easily as she would raise her hand to wave at a passing friend.

It was as if she had become an extension of the ship. However, she was not a fanatic of the Omnissiah or a pilot of a Titan. The last thing she desired was to have her consciousness subsumed by the Machine Spirit of some large engine of war. Her role as a Vanus assassin demanded that she not bind herself to any given machine or system. They were designed to interface with systems and coax their Machine Spirits into aiding them.

In the end, she knew the difference, the ship was the ship, and she was herself. The Machine Spirit of the Silver Bullet was a quiet thing, much like the passengers it was designed to carry. It was designed to keep itself hidden and not reveal itself unless threatened by an outside force. This ship had more than a few internal defenses in the unlikely but still catastrophic even that they are boarded. The focus of this silent beast was to observe and hide with no desire to assert dominance over its pilot or crew. It was one of them, built for a specific purpose and meant to go unrecognized as it completed its task. No worship was required nor prayers of appeasement. Although some assassins gave them anyway.

As she analyzed the readings from her augur returns, the soft sound of the bridge doors sliding open drew her attention away from her terminal. Turning around, she saw that the others had assembled as their leader had ordered.

All of them were armed and ready for whatever actions their plan demanded. Vitalii had his Exitus strapped across his back along with a pair of Exitus pistols on his belt. His primary containing his specialized ammunition and his unique auxiliary which could load both autogun rounds and lasgun powercells. His spy mask was donned, as always, the Vindicare was ready to go.

Razuun was also fully equipped. The Venenum sported a unique combat harness of pipes and tubes that ran down her left arm which was connected to a small device sitting just below the base of her neck. The tubes ended in a pressurized cylinder that rested on her wrist with smaller tubes running along the gauntlet she wore and ran down to her fingers. The Toxicant Gauntlet had wicked claws that capped each finger, each capable of distributing whatever deadly concoction she carried with just a scratch. To top it off, the gauntlet sported a blade the size of her forearm mounted vertically above the cylinder. The blade was currently pointed away from her hand but could be flipped with a blink click inside her visor. She wore belts around both her waist and thighs. On the waist belt were poison filled globes, each shining with sinister purpose. On her left thigh belt was a quartet of magazines meant to coincide with the armament on her right thigh belt. Her Toxicant pistol, a small pistol that held a cylinder at the top while a tube snaked its way through the grip from the bottom. Also in the grip was a magazine of specialized canister shells. Each shell was specifically designed to be loaded with whatever poison was loaded in the cylinder as it was chambered.

Irtanna also stood ready. Her Phase Sword sat inactive and her Neural Shredder at on her hip, dormant but still deadly. The poisoned daggers were lined on her thigh belt and all coated in a variety of toxins. She also wore her mask now. The large red eye lenses almost shone in the bright light of the bridge, while her blond hair was tied in a long braid.

Lastly was Summer, who looked the same as she always did. The cloak, the corset she wore, the rose icon belt buckle, the magazines along the belt. Her skirt, Lucia had no idea why she wore a skirt, but she would not question such a thing now. Also on her belt was the silver Misericordia the Custodes gave her, that was all topped off with the special combi weapon that she had supposedly designed herself and built with the aid of Archmagos Cawl.

They also had a little visitor on the bridge. The girl Summer had brought aboard was beside her guardian along with the gyrinx. Rain was wearing a little red dress with some sandals and was staring out the main viewing port window. Lucia personally didn't mind having the pair here.

So long as they didn't touch anything.

"I see everyone is excited," said Lucia. "Lucky for you all we are just about there."

The Vanus faced forward in her seat and looked around the bridge. There were rows of servitors attached to their seats lining the edge of the bridge. These servitors, like their combat servitors, more resembled the standard that was found in the Imperium. Beyond them was the main viewing window.

"Woah," gasped Rain, as she beheld the sight of the planetoid they were now orbiting. The greens and browns of its continents disappeared as they fell into the night zone of each planet.

"Why does it go dark like that?" asked the child.

"Because that is the night side of the planet. The sun is not shining there anymore," answered Summer.

The child nodded in understanding, while none of the assassins commented. Caring for a child was not something any of them had experience in, and that included Irtanna who could have been tasked to impersonate a mother had she not been assigned here.

"Are we in range for the augurs to give us anything?" asked Vitalii.

A small door opened on the floor to Lucia's right, and a small hololith table rose up from the concealed compartment. It came to life, showing a translucent representation of the world itself.

"Yes, I am receiving long range vox communications, holonet broadcasts, personal messages between government officials and even binaric chant," answered Lucia.

"Any idea what's going on down there yet?" asked Summer.

"A lot," quipped the Vanus. "The planetary governor has declared marshal law. Since their fleet was smashed some time ago, their only option was to ensure they were prepared for when the enemy came knocking."

Lucia turned back to the team with a shrug and a grin. "Or that is what he says to the public anyway. Private messages between the ruling elite are more selfish if you know what I mean."

"I figured," sighed Summer, not surprised. "So, what do we know about this world? We can't plan properly unless we know how this place is supposed to be."

With the flick of her finger, Lucia expanded the hololithic projection to the point where it was the same height as any one of them. This was just enough for them to make out individual settlements which housed populations that ran in the millions.

"Despite this being the capital of the system, this is actually a forest world. With dense jungles that, while never friendly, are not so invasive that they threaten local Imperial infrastructure. The trees are especially sturdy but take a lot longer to grow than what would be the norm on most forest worlds which emphasize rapid growth and expansion."

"That explains the desert areas dotted all over the continents," commented Razuun.

"Quite, now the planetary capital is here," said the Vanus as a circular icon appeared on the globe surrounding the largest of the settlements along the continental coastline. This one had buildings that looked tall enough to count as hive spires.

"Athenis. The nexus point of the entire planet's economy and the location of the largest starport in system. Likely meant to control the incoming trade from other planets and ships from beyond the system."

More icons appeared across the globe highlighting smaller cities but still substantial.

"Each city is ruled by a mayor, simple governing principle, but each mayor is connected to the ruling elite through family ties and so each city has its own militia forces at the mayor's beck and call. A precaution to defend against any jungle beasts or large numbers of malcontents."

"Or each other," added Irtanna, seeing Summer look her way, the Callidus shrugged. "It's a private army for each of them. People born in those positions almost always fight among themselves."

"As long as they remain loyal to the Imperium, their infighting does not matter to us," stated Vitalii simply, not taking his eyes of the projections.

Irtanna and Summerlooked at him and then each other. The Callidus shrugged again and said nothing.

"Ah, but that is the topic in question, Vitalii," Lucia said, while the projection was rotating to show another settlement. This one was much smaller than most.

"This is Suvulak. It is a minor settlement and according to the conversations I am getting, it was recently destroyed by what sounds like a local rebellion."

"Local as in settlement local or planetary local?" asked Summer.

"Settlement local," clarified Lucia. "And it's not the only one."

The globe shifted again, revealing at least three more settlements that have been destroyed. One of which looked to be a major travel hub for the carved-out dirt highways of the planet.

"No way that's not organized," commented Irtanna.

"The planetary governor agrees. The local rebellion message on the hololive is just a lie he made up to maintain public order while he collaborates with the heads of state to sort this out."

"Is it working?" asked Summer.

"I'm not sure, but I doubt it since marshal law has been declared. While the average citizen of the Imperium is no statesmen, they know why such a thing exists. This has been the status quo for the past three months."

"They need lots of people and big guns to burn a whole city," said Rain, then she looked to Summer. "Right?"

Lucia spoke up first. "That is correct, little one. According to the pict-captures, each settlement was reduced to rubble. No way a local uprising did something like that."

The Huntress gave the child an affectionate pat on the head.

"It would make no sense anyway," said Summer. "These are the people's homes, even if they hate their governor, they won't burn down their own homes."

Walking closer to the projection, she looped around it and stopped in front of a large, forested area which held none of the desert terrain that the rest of the continent did. There was an active settlement there, but it was the only one between the ruined cities and the dense forest.

A memory of Raven emerged, how she had chosen to hide with her bandit tribe in the dense forests of Mistral.

"Anything there?" asked Summer as she pointed to the largely unsettled land.

"I'm reading ghost signal returns and some minor heat sources. Most likely some concealed sites. Although to who they belong to, I can't say. I'm not detecting any long-range communications. Whoever's out there is either using psychic means or they are limiting themselves to letters and short range vox."

Razuun placed a hand on her hip. "You think whatever is razing those cities is hiding in the woods?"

"I do, and let's be honest, where else are they going to hide a force with that kind of power?" asked the Huntress rhetorically.

"She is right," concurred Vitali. "When a target is an active source of anarchy, they will always place their safe haven in an area that would be costly to reach much less search."

The Vindicare approached the projection and ran a finger across the long open areas that divided the forests and connected the settlements. He ended his tracing at the city between the destroyed areas and the forests. "See here. The roads all end at this city. They go no further into the forests."

He tapped the areas on the blue holo that had a red tinge to them, indicating the heat signatures the ships augurs were picking up. "Meaning these are not government sanctioned sites, else they would have made roads for more efficient passage."

"Alright," said Summer slamming her fist into a waiting hand. "We've got our first lead."

"So, fearless leader," inquired Lucia with a grin. "What's our opening move?"

"First thing we need to do is some scouting, see what's down there. Can't have the team going in blind."

"I shall do this," offered Vitalii although it sounded like a command. "A single orbital insertion will allow me to land undetected."

Lucia saw Summer frown.

"Not by yourself," said the Huntress. "I'm going with you."

"Unnecessary," objected the Vindicare. "One operative is enough. It minimizes the possible loss to the team."

"But it also maximizes the probability of lose regarding that one member," Summer shot back.

"Not necessarily true," said Vitalii dismissively. "The risk factor to a single operative is debatable."

"I'm not letting you go down there alone," stated the Huntress, her voice taking on the finality of a sniper's bullet. "If you don't like that then I'll go in alone instead."

Vitalii said nothing for a moment. His posture did not change nor did his breathing or heartrate. For a full five seconds he just stared at the Huntress, then he nodded.

"Acknowledged, we go together then," said Vitalii, his voice and tone the same as it had always been.

Summer watched him for a moment, her eyebrow was raised. "That's it? No further arguments? No conditions?"

"No," said Vitalii, still unchanged. "You are the leader of this team. I shall not countermand you without compelling reason."

Summer glanced at the rest of her team for confirmation, unfortunately the masks made it impossible for her to read their faces. Then Summer turned to Lucia who was the only other unmasked member of SILVER. The Vanus with a soft smile gave her a reassuring nod.

---

The pot bay was just as smooth and sleek as the rest of the ship. There was a total of five pods each with their own station and terminal, all of which were reasonably spread out. No sense in having such specialized agents launch at the same time and potentially crash into one another.

Summer examined the pod with a sense of trepidation. The teardrop shaped capsule was smaller than a Space Marine drop pod that was for sure. With it being designed for one average sized human it was less than a quarter of the bulk and only had one hatch rather than five. There was a restraint harness and plenty of handholds to keep her stable for the descent.

"So, this is what I'm going down in?" she asked, turning to the pair behind her, doing her best to hide the tension in her voice. By what her assistant in name said next, Summer figured she had failed tremendously.

Irtanna nodded. "You may feel some discomfort; the drop gets intense once you reach atmosphere."

Razuun ran her clawed fingertips across one another, Summer recognized the action. The Venenum was eager to use that gauntlet.

"Be honest with her, Callidus," admonished Razuun before giving Summer her full attention. "It will feel like you are being crushed flat."

"I'm trying to ease her nerves," sneered Irtanna. "Can you not see that? Or does your Temple not teach you tact when interacting with others, Venenum."

Razuun shrugged. "I see no point in sugarcoating it. Better she be prepared to face the truth now than discover it as she drops."

Summer spoke up before Irtanna could provide another argument. The way they used each other's Temple names always sounded like insults. This was a rivalry that was beyond anything her old team had shown. It was a fundamental thing, something each of them genuinely believed as a core part of their identities. That each of their schools was superior to the rest. However, they appeared to reduce this mutual contest to jabs at one another. Which was better than hostility or debate in the field.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Thanks for being frank with me, Raz."

The use of the nickname Summer had given the Venenum caused a reaction from both. Razuun's movements slowed slightly while Irtanna went stiff for a fraction for a second. Summer used her psychic abilities to skim their surface thoughts.

Razuun was slightly embarrassed at the mention of the nickname in front of one of the other assassin. It was one she agreed to, and Summer caught the assassin blaming herself for not adding the clause of confidentiality to their verbal agreement.

As for Irtanna, she just found it funny, both that the Venenum had not rebuked the nickname and was given one to begin with.

The shipwide vox activated and Lucia's voice came in from the speakers in the chamber. "I don't understand why you are so nervous. I've read at least a dozen reports of you diving out of Thunderhawks before they even descend. That's a kilometer long drop on average."

"It's not the same!" Summer called out. "Those were freefalls where I control how I drop and land. This is me being stuffed in a metal box and being chucked into the ground."

"Many would argue that this is safer than what you did," said Lucia. "Even Astartes with jump packs wouldn't try jumping out of a Thunderhawk from that height unless they had to."

"I was trained for it," Summer said to the empty space while crossing her arms. "It was a part of our initiation."

"Genuinely?" asked Razuun.

"Yup, the headmaster launched us off a cliff."

"That sounds utterly mad," said Irtanna with a stifled laugh. Out of all of them, she was the most used to how unusual Summer was.

That comment at Ozpin's expense brought a smile to Summer's lips. Oh, the plan she was weaving for him and his little war.

"Could you share some tales with me?" asked Lucia over the speakers. "I would really like to hear more about your world."

"Later," said Summer. Turning to the pod, she sucked in a breath and walked up to it.

The pod was suspended above a loading hatch with some sort of autoloading system. The hatch which would seal it off from the rest of the ship before launching it to the surface.

Vitalii who was sitting in his own pod on the other end of the chamber called out via the vox in his spy mask. "Prepared for launch."

"Have some patience, Vitalii," tutted Lucia. "Can't you see our leader has got first time jitters? I know it's been a long time, but I'm sure you remember your first drop."

Vitalii did not answer rather he secured his restraint harness and relaxed his muscles while he still could.

Summer climbed the boarding ladder and swung into the pod. Nudging her Ivory Dorn to the side of her belt, she pressed her back against the heavily cushioned seat and pulled down her own restraint harness. Still not feeling fully secure, she reached for one of the handholds around the pod and gripped it tightly.

Looking down at her two teammates, she nodded to them both before looking up and hoping she was facing some sort of concealed camera. "I'm ready."

"Any last words?" asked Lucia jokingly.

"Vanus," said Vitalii in a flat voice.

"Alright, alright. Initializing launch sequence."

The hatches to both pods came to life and slowly lifted up. The pods were sealed with a high-pitched suction noise, after that, Summer felt like she had been cut off from the outside. Lucia's voice came through the inbuilt speakers as the pod's systems came to life.

"Preparing for launch. Everyone else clear the chamber if you please."

The hatch below opened, revealing an almost hollow space beneath. That space was kept in vacuum via the same energy shield Summer saw in the Silver Bullet's hanger. It kept the oxygen back but allowed denser matter to pass through freely.

As the pod was lowered, she watched Razuun and Irtanna walk away. A part of her wanted them all to do this together. To make this their first act as a team, but she knew that could not happen. Team building was not something she could force on them as she tried back at Beacon. That was something that would need to happen naturally.

Besides, this was a serious mission with the fate of millions or potentially billions of people on the line. She was the leader and now was the time to show them that she was just as deserving to be here as Guilliman proclaimed her to be.

She caught a glimpse of Vitalii before his head went below the floor line along with hers. He was watching her; for what reason she had no idea, so she reached out to him.

When her mind touched his, she felt him recoil in instinctual disgust, but it was a temporary thing as he seemed to register that it was her. She broadcast the concept of concern to him, it was wordless, but it carried the meaning of her actions. There was no rebuke nor rejection, he accepted her presence with surprising quickness.

His surface thoughts were tricky to decipher, as his focus was on the immediate drop and the aftermath of the landing. He was calm and prepared, the familiarity with his surroundings reached back to her, it told of repeated actions to the point of near routine. While this did not tell her how many times he had done this, it did indicate that it was somewhere around a lot.

That was enough to comfort her. While she didn't break the connection, she relaxed on her focus to direct her attention back to her immediate surroundings. The pod was loaded into a firing chamber of sorts, at least that was what it looked like to her. Below was a hexagonal hatch that was likely the only thing separating the pod from the vacuum of space.

The entire process of loading and sealing this place away from the chamber above happened in complete silence. Summer was not claustrophobic, but she felt the tightness of her environment, as if the walls were stealthily closing in to crush her. Were it not for the mental connection she had with Vitalii, she would have suddenly felt very alone at that moment.

"Preparations complete," came Lucia's voice again, nearly making Summer's heart jump. "All deployed operatives check in. Vision?"

"Standing by," said Vitalii over their team vox.

"Seeker?"

Summer blinked as she recalled her designation, almost hastily she responded with, "Standing by."

"Launching in 3…"

Summer felt the hair on the back of her neck rise as she saw the hatch below her begin to open. Giving way to the blackness beyond.

"2…"

With both hands, she took hold of the support bars that she felt would give her the most stability without compromising her spine and potentially ripping her arms off. While her regenerative abilities were pretty much supernatural at this point, she was not keen to see if she could regrow lost limbs.

"1…"

She felt a sudden tightness in her gut as the anticipation of what came next made her as rigid as a corpse. It was almost overwhelming to the point where she had to fight to keep her eyes from closing on instinct.

"Launch!"

The thruster at the apex of the pod ignited and the force Summer felt being put on her frame was even worse than she had predicted. One instant she was in that secluded section of the Silver Bullet, the next she was hurtling through space.

Looking up, she saw what she thought was the ship, it was nothing more than a vague black silhouette against the stary void. There were no questions in her mind as she fought against the pod.

Over to her right was Vitalii's pod and it was falling at a pace that perfectly matched her own. Their minds were still connected and while she did feel intense focus from the Vindicare, there was none of the dread she felt.

For what felt like an age, but it was likely no more than a few minutes they dropped.

For a moment she thought she heard him reciting a litany, but that realization passed from her mind as they reached the planet's atmosphere.

It was so much worse when they started meeting air resistance. The pods shook violently, making Summer vibrate to the point she felt her muscles were being shaken of her bones. Even with the restraint harness, she felt like she was about to be thrown around the pod like a bouncy ball. It made her feel like her very skeleton had entered a locked state where if she failed to maintain it, she would fly apart.

As they plunged deeper, the exterior of the pods began to catch fire. The flames danced around them as if in welcome to the world's newest arrivals. Through it all, Summer kept her eyes open. There was an odd beauty it all. The way the fire ran across the armorglass like water was mesmerizing. It almost looked like something that would be some sort of exotic art piece in a museum. The fact that it was real and happening so close to her made it all the more amazing.

But brilliant as it was, it did not take her attention away from making sure she was steady and stable. The entire descent, she had been stiff, not even mustering the ability to scream as all her energy was dedicated to securing herself.

That focus was her greatest strength, but it did not help her when the pod hit the ground.

---

Vitalii felt the bone-jarring impact as his insertion pod hit the earth. With a short breath and practices mental discipline, he relaxed his tensed muscles and waited. There was the hiss of depressurization and the high-pitched whine of the hatch unsealing itself. The loading hatch lowered and he began to unfasten his restraint harness.

Once the hatchway was clear, he leapt out and drew his left Exitus pistol. He landed at the edge of the small and slightly burnt dirt crater created by the impact. Keeping his stance crouched and his pistol aimed down sight with both hands.

The scene that greeted him was the lush greenery of Pralthax Prime's dense jungles. The trees towered above him for at least ten meters and thick foliage covered the ground. Upon seeing this, he noted that he would have sufficient cover moving through the terrain once they began their search.

Vitalii spent half a minute scanning his immediate area, always cautious of being discovered by their enemy or some unaccounted for third party. It would not be the first time someone had found him after he left his pod. A fiery streak falling from the heavens was not hard to miss if you were watching the skies, and unlike most other missions, this was not an active warzone. But that was irrelevant: they did not catch him off guard then and they would not start now.

His spy mask activated its audio sensors to take in the environment around him. His natural hearing was keen enough, but there were foes in the galaxy that even his ears could not pick up without help. All he got was the agitated chirping noises of the planet's avian creatures and the rustle of vegetation.

That and a slightly muffled groaning sound that came from somewhere behind him.

Satisfied that he was alone, he chose to report in. It was a single word and it conveyed everything that had happened up to this early stage of the mission.

"Deployed," he said into his personal vox.

"Copy that, Vision," came Lucia's voice in his ears. "Seeker hasn't reported in. What's her status?"

It took a moment for him to realize that she was no longer in his mind. While he was well aware that she was a psyker of some sort, the feeling of having another presence in your mind along with you, however partial and minuscule, was still unsettling.

Vitalii turned about and walked over to where Summer's pod was supposed to have landed. He pushed his way through the brush and beheld the same sight his own pod had made. A circular crater had been beaten into the dirt with smoke and steam rising from both the pod and the ground due to the extreme heat of atmospheric entry.

The hatch was open and stumbling out of it was the leader of Team SILVER. The Huntress walked clear of the pod, wobbling on her feet as she groaned in pain. The intense shock of the impact must have disrupted her sense of balance.

"Disoriented, but unharmed," said the Vindicare, no notes of care in his voice as he moved to assist.

Summer tripped over her own foot and would have fallen face flat into the mud, but Vitalii caught her over his shoulder.

"Thanks," she said in a disjointed tone.

Vitalii gave no response, and waited for the Vanus to call in. "Seeker? Are you alright?"

"Yeah," said Summer in an almost dreamy manner. "I'll be good in a minute."

"Luminary," said Vitalii, still supporting his leader while keeping sights on his surroundings. "Do you have vox signals in our general vicinity?"

"I do now that the Bullet is closer. There are vox returns northwest and north northwest of your position."

"Has our arrival been detected?"

"No, or at least if it has no one reported it in yet. Stay alert, one of the sites is showing abnormally high amount of short range vox traffic."

"We shall move northwest. Locate the enemy and determine the true scale of the threat before proceeding."

Vitalii looked to Summer, who was now regaining her bearings. "Is that acceptable?"

With the shake of her head, she gently pushed him away and stook assuredly on her own feet. "It is. Luminary, monitor the planetary governor and his friends. If he's part of this, we'll need to know as soon as we can so we can warn Guilliman."

"Will do. Stay out of trouble."

Vitalii holstered his pistol and unslung his Exitus rifle before he began his march through the underbrush. Summer in the meantime, opted for a different approach. Rather than force her way through the plants, she vaulted up the nearest tree and perched on a branch to quicky perform her own survey.

Vitalii watched her from below, from her cloak came that weapon of hers, but rather than a spear as he had seen on the ships surveillance systems, it transformed into the rifle form she had shown him at their first meeting. The design echoed that of his Exitus rifle, but he was well aware that her weapon was a different sort of beast.

That was alright by him. All Assassinorum weaponry was tailored to their users, same as the Custodes. If this weapon suited her then he would not criticize.

He saw her looking down at him and an unspoken agreement passed between them. 'I go high, you go low,' was the message he was getting.

There was a voice that warned him to object, to say that her cloak of pure white stood out too much in this terrain, but he held his tongue. Lucia was not the only one to have read the reports on the Huntress.

Deciding to trust to his faith, he gave a nod and watched as she sprang to a nearby tree. Intent on keeping pace, he upped his speed to keep sight of her.

As they traversed the forest for the proceeding hours, he began to appreciate the ability of his new leader. While neither of them was clumsy and Vitalii moved through the bushes with a ghost's whisper, Summer passed among the trees with superlative grace.

He hardly heard her at all, the branches made almost no creaking, and the rustle of the leaves was barely above a short gasp. Each leap initiated a quick scan of her surroundings before her next vault. There was no guarantee of safety, and she did not delude herself into believing there was as normal humans did.

As the day grounded on, he began to understand her more. The way she moved through the jungle showed Vitalii that she was not simply used to the current terrain, but that she had mastered it to a large degree. This was more than his experiences in such environments, whether simulated at the Temple or on a mission. He was an expert in almost any theatre of war at this juncture of his career. The Huntress was something else, the actions she took along with the efficiency and care told the Vindicare that she had spent long years in similar places.

Despite her choice in attire, this may be the ideal environment for her.

It was now after seeing her at work did he realize how fitting the title of Huntress was to someone like her.

Vitalii halted and held up a hand to signal for her to stop. She did as was ordered and waited while Vitalii activated his spy masks audio senses.

"… squealing like a baby grox. You have no idea how good it felt."

Summer dropped down from the tree, landing at his side and mouthed the words, "What is it?"

"Contacts," Vitalii whispered, earning a stern look from her and a nod.

With an adjustment to his senses, he turned his head in the direction he was best receiving the conversation. Slowly, he crept his way through the bushes and while sticking his head out the edge, spotted a group of soldiers walking along.

There were five of them and they all carried autoguns. They all wore flak armor and khaki. Their helmets were all adorned with a silver skull atop their foreheads. Some wore masks while others showed their faces openly. Men with ages varying between their twenties and thirties all.

Vitalii listened in further.

The one in the lead spoke up. "I'm telling you, seeing the mayor's little bitch on her knees like that was a sight. All those days of her looking down on us because she was the lucky harlot who that asshole got to bone. Oh, it was cathartic to see her get what she deserved."

"Still don't compare to watching the Admisnistratum building burn," said the third one behind.

"When are we marching on Athenis?" asked the one at the back, who appeared to be the youngest. "I want to burn those pigs already and all the people who support the false Imperium."

"When the big guys say so and not an hour sooner," answered another one.

"And you know what that means?" asked the leading one in an excited manner. "More pillaging more fun and taking back what we're owed for all those years of toil. The Imperium is done and now it is our turn to run things."

"Down with the false Imperium!" cheered the young one.

"Down with Governor Praolz! Freedom for Pralthax!" cheered the rest before they all burst out laughing.

Vitalii stopped listening, he was not interested in hearing more of their idiocy. This was a commonality with many of the insurgency groups he had hunted over the years. If this was all they were dealing with then this would be a short mission. No matter how many of them there were, they were no match for the combined skills at SILVER's disposal.

There was a sudden pressure in the air beside him. Summer was next to him and he could see she was angry. Very angry.

It may have been his mask fooling his vision, but he could have sworn her eye color had changed. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she flinched at his touch, but then she calmed down. Taking a breath, she signaled to follow, and he gave a nod before standing up.

Then they began to stalk their prey.

---

Back on the Silver Bullet, Irtanna stood on the bridge with Razuun at her side. Both of them watched the glowing globe of Pralthax Prime as Lucia worked at her terminal. The projection of the planet rotated in fits and starts, main focus of the augurs aboard shifting as transmissions were intercepted, archived and analyzed for any useful information.

Irtanna had a sharp mind, sharper than any baseline human and some would say she was even a match for an Astartes. While she never had the chance to test that theory yet, she would like to think she could. It was her Temple that did what was thought to be impossible and it was likely that she would cross blades with traitor Space Marines eventually. So, she was annoyed that all she could tell from the Vanus' investigations was that the governor was a very, very busy man. The projection shifted from the capital to the outlaying cities almost constantly. Over the past few hours, they had intercepted at least twenty-one different conversations between the governor and his mayors.

Some were played out over a vox hailer in the bridge. They contained very little useful information, but Irtanna put even that to use. She studied their accents, their mannerism, local idioms and turns of phrase. The governor, the mayor, the assistants that answered in place of their masters. Years of training returned to the fore of her mind, she began reciting their words in her head, flexing her vocal cords to mimic their accents and responses. She was building a library of possible identities for her to slip into, voices and personalities that she could change as if it were with the flick of a switch.

"The incompetence of those in power never cease to amaze me," said Razuun out of the blue.

Irtanna blinked and looked to her fellow assassin, the annoyance she felt at having her metal preparations was choked. She was not preparing for a mission so much as passing the time until a proper course of action was decided. This was still the opening hours.

"How do you figure?" asked the Callidus.

The Venenum's visored skull mask looked at Irtanna and she hated that she could not see past those mechanical eyes.

"They were born into their station; they were raised for the purpose of governing over others. They are given all the skills and information they need to guide their people in times of crisis. Yet when the time comes to perform their allotted function, they are complete failures."

Irtanna did not need her advanced social senses to detect the disappointment in Razuun's voice.

"Are you comparing us to them?" queried the Callidus, finding the notion ridiculous, comparing them to normal humans.

"Is there any other form of judgement I can levy on them?" asked the Venenum. "It simply bothers me. How can they be so unprepared? Is this not what they are meant for? Maintaining order on their worlds."

Lucia raised a hand to get the attention of the other two assassins. She never took her focus off the readings before her. "It is never that simple. The workings of the Imperium are a mess and that is putting it lightly. If I were to wager, I would say that most planetary governors are more worried about their prestige than anything else. Ensuring they go down in the historical archives as just and effective leaders of their time. Those who bring prosperity and such and such."

Irtanna scoffed as such a notion. "Self-aggrandizement, plain and simple. It appears to be the only thing such people care about. If they were smart, they would prepare for the coming of something that could threaten not only their rule but the very stability of their world."

Lucia paused her analysis and rotated in her chair, the cables connecting her to the terminal snaked back into her arms, the black of her own specialized bodyglove concealing any and all hidden ports. She did not sit in a throne as most pilots of voidcraft did. While it was not flashy, or even look tough, she was as secure as an Astartes dreadnought sarcophagus. "That is the misconception, Callidus. They are smart, but intelligence is not generalized, it is specialized. We are living examples of that truth."

The Vanus smiled, and Irtanna felt the condescension in it. "The planetary governors, the competent ones who do their jobs at least, are given the information to maintain their rule. It is in their best interest to remain in charge as that ensures stability as they have likely been in command for centuries or millennia if they are lucky."

Lucia placed the tip of her index finger against her right temple. "They are intelligent, but that intellect is razor focused on politics and social niceties. I'm sure you noticed this during your mission on Hyraphur."

Irtanna must not have controlled her facial expressions because the Vanus' smile broadened even though the Callidus was wearing her mask.

"Yes, I know about your mission to assassinate the head of one of their noble houses after the Arbites nearly burnt one of their rivals down in their schemes."

Lucia laughed; it was a soft almost feminine giggle that would have fooled anyone other than a fellow operative of the Officio. "You left quite the trail of bodies for the Arbitrators to find. When I read it for the first time, I almost thought you were an Eversor."

"You were given access to our mission records?" Razuun did not so much as ask as restrain her outrage. Their personal history of service in the Officio was something only their respective Temple leaders were entitled to know.

"Of course," said Lucia casually. "You should know that it is standard procedure when an Execution Force is formed. If a member of the Vanus Temple is assigned to the team, then they shall be granted access to all files pertaining to the remaining members. Excluding information, the Temples deem unfit to be shared, of course."

"I take it this is not a sign of cooperation and trust between the Temples?" guessed the Venenum.

"Obviously not. It's simply due to the fact that when an Execution Force is formed, most members of it end up dead. Someone has to report back once the job is done," Lucia said, but blinked as she realized something. "Oh, don't tell our precious leader about that. I think she might worry so much that none of us will be able to deploy at all without a shouting match."

"She does care more than she is supposed to," commented Razuun.

Irtanna forgot whatever comment she made and glanced down at her hands. The glow that spread across her body was still clear in her mind and the sensation of withstanding a sniper's bullet to her shoulder joint. If there was one word Irtanna would use to describe her, it would be protector. The safety of others, even those who were just as deadly as her, mattered more than her own. That ran almost counter to the principles Irtanna was taught since she was a young girl going through the trials of the Temple. Yet, even with that, she was so much like them. Willing to destroy to protect what mattered.

Irtanna chuckled at the memory of their recent spar. "It is enough to make me wonder why we were selected to join her in this vanguard project the Primarch organized."

Razuun nodded to her fellow beginner and sighed. "I must agree with you there. I feel unprepared for something like this. Three missions for me and two for you. The Master of Assassins must have chosen us to spite Lord Guilliman."

"Oh, it's quite the opposite," said the Vanus. "If that were the case then Vitalii would not have been assigned to the Bullet."

"Care to elucidate us then, Vanus," prompted Irtanna.

"Gladly," chuckled Lucia, before turning back to the terminal.

Irtanna watched as the cables almost slithered from the Vanus' arms and inserted themselves into the myriad of sockets of the machinery. All assassin's had undergone operations to become what they were, but the Vanus was by far the greatest recipient of this with only the Eversor potentially being her rival.

"Do you know the number of missions Vitalii has been on?" asked the Vanus as she began reviewing the information from the broadcasts and transmissions she had missed.

"Thirty-two, he told us his mark count," answered Razuun.

"Ah, but that was his mark count. Not the total number of missions he has been on. The two are not one and the same."

"Are you saying he went on missions he never completed?" asked Irtanna finding the idea almost amusing. The straight backed Vindicare having some hidden shames behind that unbreakable façade.

"Not at all. He completed every mission he was sent on efficiently and with all the directness you would expect from a Vindicare."

"Then how many is it?" asked Razuun, crossing her arms.

"Sixty-five."

Neither Irtanna nor Razuun said anything in response to that. Most assassins were expected to get into double digits, but few if any made it to forty before either age or the dangers of their occupations took them down.

"This is not a jest?" asked Razuun, who appeared to gather her wits first.

"No," said Lucia, becoming slightly more serious. "I should know. A quarter of my marks came from missions where we worked together."

"You two have a history?"

"We do," smiled the Vanus. "If fact you could say that it was my association with him that got me placed here. Unlike you two."

"If his mission count is that high," said Irtanna placing the facts in her mind. "Then he qualifies to be a Sicarius Primus."

"He does and was offered. However, he refused."

"Why?" hissed Irtanna. The position of Sicarius Primus was something nearly every assassin in the Officio dreamed of. It was second only to the Master of Assassins and head of each Clade. There was only allowed to be a handful per Temple.

"Because in his mind he does not qualify. The marks he gave us were what he considers to be marks. Kills delivered by the bullets from his own rifle and nothing else," answered the Vanus and then she paused her rapid typing. After a short pause, she shrugged and continued typing. "Besides if you knew him like I do, you would expect him to refuse even if he did not think this way. He is a straightforward man, even for his Temple. He knows what he is good at and what he is not. Being a director in his Temple is not something he wants."

"Just what sort of missions did he go on to get to such a high mission count but not deliver the killing blow for over half of them?" asked Razuun, genuinely interested and since they were allowed to know each other's personal histories they might as well hear this.

"Warzones," answered Lucia as the projection shifted to the capital and to another port city. "Almost exclusively warzones. You won't find an assassin with more experience than him in an active combat environment."

"That's doesn't explain how his count is so low," said Irtanna. "Wouldn't it be easy to kill an enemy warlord if they were out in the open?"

"Not if you're talking Orks laying siege to a hive city, or an army of madmen who would cause just as much havoc with or without their leaders," answered Lucia. "In most cases, he opted for a more collaborative approach to conflicts. While he could simply kill his target and leave, Vitalii has developed a view of the broader picture. He aids local Imperial forces where he can and enables them to secure victory where it would be impossible otherwise."

The Vanus sighed; the echo of long restrained frustration being allowed to vent. "The number of firefights he could have avoided if he had just listened to me was enough to make me want to pull my bionics out. But he was effective, instead of going for the targets himself, he sabotaged the enemy; crippled them so his allies could go in for the kill. I was not there for his last mission, but I know it was on the world of Armageddon during the second ork invasion."

"He certainly does not sound like the archetypal Vindicare," said Razuun and Irtanna noted a hint of approval in her voice, even with the mask making it sound clipped.

"You'll find he is far more willing to embrace unorthodox tactics than most. It's why he was picked for this team. He's flexible in a way that most Vindicare are unsuited for and his combat experience second to none."

"Then why were you selected then?" asked Irtanna.

Lucia turned to the Callidus and flashed her another of those knowing smiles before turning back to the terminal. "Because, like Vitalii, I have experience in active warzones, and I am already acquainted with how he operates. Also, not to brag, but my combat skills are rated as above the norm for my Temple as a result."

"Then what about us?" asked Razuun. "You and the Vindicare have the kind of skillset that the Primarch would want in a small vanguard force. The Callidus and I have neither of these."

"Nor would you gain them by doing what your Temples expect from you," answered Lucia. "The Primarch has reviewed the reviewed all candidates himself, and he chose the two of you. In fact, I believe it is your lack of experience that makes you more suitable for this team than your seniors."

"Speak plainly, Vanus," said Irtanna becoming tired of this drawn-out speculation.

"Fine. Both of your Temples practice infiltration and subterfuge. Both are assigned missions that could take months at a time, perhaps even years. Infiltrating the enemy is a slow thing and the Indomitus Crusade does not have that kind of time to spare for us. Team SILVER will be more focused on active combat and neutralizing obstacles to the Crusade as quickly as we can."

One of Lucia's cables dislodged from its socket and pointed at Irtanna. "You made quite the mess on Hydraphur, but that was on purpose I suppose. It demonstrated your lethality in spades, not to mention you nearly set a record."

"I did?" asked the Callidus, astonished by that.

"Yes, you only lost out by a day to one of the senior members of your Temple and she only killed one room."

The cable then pointed at Razuun. "Your mission report on Gordatis was an example of excessive violence if I ever saw one. You were tasked with killing the high command of the rebellion, not wiping them out in a cascade of gas bombs."

Razuun shrugged and chuckled. "Why waste time with taking the head cleanly when I have the chance to dispose of the body as well? Besides, it's not like I was caught."

"Precisely," smirked Lucia, the cable returned to its socket. "It may shock you but neither of your Temples have experienced assassins with the skillset to match mine or Vitalii's. Not to mention our leader who is an entirely different animal despite the similarities we share with her. So, the Primarch and the Master of Assassin's went in a different direction. They chose you, the most promising young pair from the Temples to join us. If you have no prerequisite experience in active war, then you shall get it."

The Vanus gave a warm smile to the pair. "Does that make you two feel better?"

"I… umm," Irtanna was not sure how to react at first, but recalled the match she had with her leader earlier. She was grateful to be here, where there were people who understood her way of doing things.

"Yes, much better," answered Irtanna.

Razuun shrugged. "I suppose it does. At the very least my failures did not sour my superior's view of me."

"Good," said Lucia as she readdressed her station on the bridge again. "Because even if you don't like it here, you'd better get used to it. Love it or hate it, this is what the rest of your careers will look like."

"You almost sound excited," commented Razuun.

"Can't I…" A sudden pause fell on the Vanus and her face became more serious. "We're receiving a transmission from the surface. It's Seeker, patching her though now."

Irtanna rolled her eyes in amusement beneath her mask at the mention of Summer's code name. The code names were another one of their leader's ideas.

The vox across the bridge came to life and Summer's voice came forth from them. She sounded hushed, like raising her voice an octave or two higher would put her in danger. "Luminary, do you read me?"

"I hear you, Seeker," answered Lucia with all playfulness banished from her voice. "Is something the matter?"

"We found a group of soldiers that are part of the group burning cities."

"You're certain?"

"Oh yes," Summer said with a slightly angry hiss to her voice. "If you heard how they were bragging about it along the way, you'd find it hard to doubt them. It was a detailed testimony."

"What did you do with them?"

"We followed them and guess where they led us? Right to one of their camps."

"How big of an operation are we dealing with here, Seeker? If the Primarch must be told we need to know."

"Well…"

---

Summer lay in the long grass surrounded by the bushes, Vitalii lay just a few meters away, his Exitus rifle ready to pick any targets he felt needed dealing with. However, she suspected it was merely for observation. He didn't have her eyes after all.

The Huntress stared out at the base before her and tried to come up with a short phrase to capture the scale of what she was seeing. She decided to keep it simple.

"… it's pretty big," she said into her micro-bead.

The two of them were positioned at the beginning of a steep decline into a large valley. Scattered around its edges was a series of fabricated rockcrete buildings, all ranching between five to eight floors in height. Surrounding this outpost was a thick wire fence with gun emplacements dotted around the perimeter. Each emplacement had at least three soldiers guarding it at all times. One on a tripod mounted heavy stubber and two flanking him. The ground beyond the fence was solid ferrocrete. It looked like someone had dug this place out and poured cement all over it before the buildings were raised up.

Close to the center of the outpost was what Summer took to be the power generator. Cables the size of a man spread out across the outpost like arteries connected to a beating heart. Atop the largest building was a satellite dish which rotated slowly on its axis.

As for the personnel, the base was alive with activity. There were so many soldiers and military staff that she would only care to remember if she saw them. Logistics officers, quartermasters, even enginseers of the Mechanicus were present, the robed mechanics were all going in a shut off warehouse. Tending to vehicles if she had to guess.

The Huntress took it all in with her enhanced vision and prepared a brief summery.

"There's hundreds people here, maybe even a thousand or more. They've got full working infrastructure and defenses set up in the event of company. This is not some small-scale mob burning towns for revenge. This is organized and well supplied."

The micro-bead in Summer's ear buzzed quietly and she was happy for it. These things were far better than the military model she had been using while with the Cadian 21st. Not to mention she didn't need to worry about putting unprepared soldiers at risk if she got caught.

"Vision, can I get a visual?" asked Lucia.

"Acknowledged," said Vitalii pressing two fingers to the side of his mask. His eye lenses glowed for a moment and then faded. "Sent."

The sound of rustling made the Huntress freeze. Two soldiers were walking up the hill towards them, neither seemed to be focused on anything other than their conversation with the other. Still, they were getting awfully close.

Both members of Team SILVER planted themselves belly down into the dirt, making full use of the plant matter around them. While she was great at remaining unseen with such clothes, up close in this environment was pushing it. Summer's cloak changed from its pure white and thorn pattern into a rich blend of browns and greens of different shades. With her hood over her head, she closed her eyes and focused her breathing, using her newfound powers to utilize the sonar like sense she had learned from her semblance to track the incoming pair.

"What do you think will happen to those who do not submit?" asked one.

"They'll get stomped into the mud. You saw what happened to the last officer who stood up to the angels. It took less than a second."

Summer noted the use of the word angel. It was a lesson she had learned a long time ago that the people of the Imperium did not use such words in a romanticized sense, nor did they use it frivolously.

The rest of the conversation was nothing special, just them talking about an especially attractive female officer that they would both have liked to bed. Summer was not bothered by such things anymore. The two of them would have to either die or be imprisoned anyway. The latter likely leading to the former if they were lucky.

Once the pair were far enough away, Summer lifted her hood, and her cloak returned to the pure white she had loved since she had received the original back home. She would never give it up for as long as she lived. It was a part of her identity as a huntress.

Vitalii pushed himself up from the dirt and repositioned his rifle again. His bodyglove was also changing hues to match his environment. Summer realized that the suit must have the same qualities as Finlay's cameleoline cloak.

The micro-bead buzzed to life again. "We appear to have our work cut out for us, Seeker."

"I'm guessing the Bullet found other sites?"

"At least half a dozen more, but getting exact locations is tricky. They are careful with their vox. The governor is trying to find them, but is focusing his searches more to the south. However, this does give us an advantage."

"How so?"

"They are keeping themselves hidden. That means they are not willing to make their rebellion open to the public yet. Despite the numbers they possess it is highly unlikely they have the manpower to take on the PDF and the governor's militia at the same time. Or if they do, they are not yet prepared to utilize their strength to its fullest."

"They're vulnerable while they prepare," said Summer, understanding the what the brains of her team was suggesting. It was such a relief to leave that role to someone else for once. She already liked her new team more than the old one.

"Exactly. But we still need more information. Like who's backing this group. How they are organized and what their overall plan is. Once we have all the facts, we can begin correcting this malfunction."

"How should we do that?"

"Infiltrate the base and access their communication logs as a start."

Summer smiled as she analyzed the available terrain around the outpost. How each building gave an effective overview of the entire operation. How each entrance was so small that only five men abreast could fit through. The enemy set up was a puzzle and she was slowly dismantling it within her mind's eye. Piece by piece it crumbled until she had an exact formula for ruining the entire operation before her. "Then it's time to bring down Insider and Ravage."

"Both of them? Why? Wouldn't Insider be enough?"

"Because I've got a plan that could speed our mission up and she is essential," said the Huntress with a confidence she had not felt since her graduation.

"Very well, I'll send them down where you and vision landed. Is there anything else?"

"You said you were tech savvy, right? How quickly can you rig something up for me?"

When the response came, Summer could almost hear the excitement in the Vanus' voice. "Just tell me what you need, and I'll have it ready within the hour."

---

At dusk, Sergeant Lorien Palantai was leading her squad through the forests on her routine patrol. They had left the outpost an hour earlier and were circling around the same pathway they had carved across the forests for the past few months. The soil was devoid of all plant life as a result of their constant use of it, creating a pathway of sorts for all the squads back at the base to use. Her squad of four was the same as it had always been, but that did not make her lax or lazy.

She was a woman on a mission and that mission was to see the governor burn and Pralthax liberated from the false Imperium. The role she played in it was a small one, but she considered it to be important. A cog in a greater machine that required all its parts to work properly.

So, she walked on, despite the monotony of it all she walked on. Autogun in hand and bayonet at her hip, she was almost wishing to meet those who followed the corrupt governor. Perhaps even the Arbites that she had been forced to bear with for all these years. Those condescending pricks always thinking they could do as they pleased so long as it did not violate their precious law books. Oh, how she longed to put a bullet into the bucket like helmets of one of them. But she was a good soldier and she held to her orders to the letter. Still, one could hope that their actions would draw some attention. At the very least it would give them something to practice on.

"How much longer do you think we will be before we march on Athenis?" asked Shauni, the most junior member of the squad. She was stunted and slightly chubby, but she handled herself well enough when the recruiters came to her burnt-out home to pick her up.

"Any day now," answered Lorien. "We are almost ready."

"That's what you said yesterday," whined Johester, a wannabe comedian who should be thankful they did not have commissars. Else he would not live past initial training.

"And the say before that," said Rygal who was more serious than Johester, but played along with him too much for Lorien to approve of.

"And I will keep saying it until I get an exact date. Now shut it and keep moving. I want to get back just as much as the rest of you."

With a huff, she took her focus away from them and pressed on ahead, gaining distance from them.

"Wait sarg, we aren't supposed to split up out here," whined Shauni.

"Ahh, she'll be fine," said Rygal. "Wouldn't be the first time she's done this. Too many of the lads ogling her back at the base and she just wants to feel some privacy."

"I can hear you," said Lorien with a note of warning in her voice. Rygal either did not pick up on it or he did not care.

"Don't make me wrong, does it?"

Lorien did not grace him with a response as she marched even further ahead. All the while she grumbled to herself in a soft voice. "Stupid Rygal, stupid outpost, stupid conscripts, stupid Griel! No discipline, no respect for my authority, too busy seeing me as a tight piece of arse to listen to my orders. I swear if I catch even one of them in my quarters, I'll…"

The sudden sound of rustling bushes snapped her out of her drudgery and brought her autogun up to firing position. As she circled around, she realized she had strayed a little too far ahead of her team. Now it was just her, the dimly moonlit vegetation of the forest and the noises of the various fauna that were native to this region.

"Is someone there?"

She brought the barrel of her gun into a slow arc around her immediate area, careful to avoid stepping close to any bushes. This could not be a predator, they had chased them all off weeks ago, if some had come back, they would have pounced by now.

Another rustle, this one to her left. She brought her weapon around and made sure she was still in the open where she would have a chance to react should something jump her.

She silently cursed her commanders for not allowing them to carry lumines for the sake of keeping themselves hidden. It made sense in principle, if the governor's forces or the Arbites were searching the forests, they would bring their own form of illumination with them. They would be walking blind while she and whatever squad she was paired with at the time would be walking along preplanned routes. She would already know where she was going out of routine by now. That means anything out of the ordinary would be spotted first.

Only now she suddenly felt the effect of blindness, as her instinctive sense of danger was screaming at her.

Another rustle, this one behind her. Pivoting on her heels, she took aim and just barely pulling the trigger out of fright. The beating of her heart was loud in her ears and each thud felt like a gentle knock inside her ribcage. Her breathing was progressively becoming heavier and more ragged as her eyes scanned the darkness for any sign of her unseen follower.

"Who's there?"

Her grip on her autogun tightened to the point that she hurt her fingerbones. The frame of the weapon began to shake as she continued to search. The shaking slowly spread up her arms like an infectious disease meeting a host with not immune response.

She could not take it anymore, with all the pent-up suspense inside her, along with a small bit of anger spawned from her hurt pride, she bellowed, "Show yourself!"

The response she got was instantaneous. Something sharp flew in from her left and stuck her in the side of her neck with an electric sting. There was an attempt to speak on her part. A defiant question and perhaps an outraged shout. Any attempt at vocalization was cut dry by a sudden and distressing numbness which first silenced the pain she felt then spread across her throat like blood from an open wound.

Before Lorien knew it, she found herself dropping her gun and grasping at the object which had stuck her. Training had taught her how to dress a wound, even to herself and she had some minor medical supplies on her which she hoped could counter whatever she was feeling.

The motion was panicked and hasty, had she been calm and unhurried, she would have noticed the two sharp edges running along the object. As her fingers wrapped around it, she felt those edges dig into her skin. The numbness had spread up to her lower jaw as she pulled the object out.

Using her remaining hand, she gently held the item in her open palms. It was a dagger of some kind. It had no grip, but there was a skull topping it. Dawning horror made her eyes go wide as the truth of what had happened set in.

Poison; she had been poisoned.

The dagger fell to the dirt as her left hand went numb from whatever toxin coated the thin blade. With her remaining hand, she went for the flare at her hip. It was a precaution to warn the base should any squad come under attack and fail to neutralize the enemy.

A hand took hold of her wrist, seemingly materializing out of the darkness itself. There was a sharp pain that pierced her wrist from one of the fingers. This time it was sharper and more concentrated, like a razor thin needle.

A pair of arms wrapped around her throat and locked her in a choke hold. She was then dragged off the trail and into the underbrush. Behind the bushes, in the messy tangle of trees and dark vegetation was a pair of figures. One looked to be rather feminine in body shape, while the other was completely cloaked and hooded. No other details could be made out as they were facing away from any form of moonlight which made its way past the trees.

Her first instinct was to call for help, but all that came from her throat were soft huffs of air as her lungs continued along with her now numbing windpipe. She was slowly losing the ability to breath.

A third figure walked out from the shadows, and Lorien felt her blood freeze as she beheld the newcomer. This one was also a woman, she was a woman Lorien had seen each and every day of her life. A woman whose appearance she both admired and despised in almost equal measure for the trouble it brought her.

Lorien stared in wide eyed horror at herself. This imposter somehow had her face, not just that, having had plenty of time to scrutinize herself, she could tell the other her had the exact same body as she did. Even with the lack of light, only leaving the faintest outline of her figure visible, Lorien knew what she saw.

The fake looked at her with a bemused smile and Lorien thrashed and fought against her captor. Such resistance did not last long as the arms around her throat tightened to the point where even with a numbed throat, she could feel herself no longer taking in oxygen.

Panicked gasps left her now numb lips, even if she escaped, she was likely dead, but even if she wouldn't make it, she had to get away. She had to warn the squad and the base.

Lorien kicked and jerked but she was no match for whomever had her in their hold. Slowly, she felt her strength fading. Her limbs became heavier with each movement until she could not struggle any longer.

The last thing she saw before the darkness took her was her own face, watching her with a sardonic smile.

---

Shauni walked along the route she was expected to follow, same as ever, it had been this way since she joined the Spited. The same route every time, the more experienced members were given alternate routes, but she and the rest of the conscripts were all set along the same road. It was to teach them consistency as Lorien would tell her.

Shauni liked Lorien, the sergeant had been nice to her and the rest of them when they had arrived, or most of them. A lot of the adolescent men could not stop staring at her and making lewd comments when they thought she was out of earshot.

Evidently this happened every time they got new recruits and now even some of the seasoned soldiers remarked on her every now and again.

Shauni could tell it placed a certain kind of stress on her, but said nothing on the topic as it would do nothing but remind her superior of source of her woes.

This was the first time she had seen Lorien allow it to bother her this much. They had been walking for a full five minutes and they still had not seen her.

"That's strange," Rygal said with squinted eyes. "She's never taken this long before."

"Is she okay?" asked Shauni.

"You shouldn't have egged her on like that," said Johester. "If we end up with a dead sergeant, the commander would cuff us for sure or worse, especially if we lost his bedwarmer."

Shauni gasped but kept her aim straight. This was the sort of gossip she hated to hear. It reminded her of all the snooty girls who would deliberately ignore her while speaking condescendingly about her.

"Would you shut it," snapped Rygal. "If something happened, we'd hear something. A flare or a gunshot at least. The sarg is quick on the trigger and quicker to decide when to pull it."

The bushes off to the side of them rustled loudly and the trio raised their guns at the shaking leaves. Something was clearly moving through the shrubbery but due to the lack of light, they could not see who or what it was.

"Stop right there!" demanded Rygal.

The rustling stopped. Rygal continued to maintain control of the situation. "Step out slowly or we'll fill you with holes."

The bush parted and a figure stepped out with arms raised and a familiar voice said in a stern manner. "I could have you shot for raising your weapon against me, Rygal."

The three of them blinked as Lorien stood before them with both her hands held up in a sigh of nonviolence. Her autogun was slung across her back and she looked none too pleased with them.

"Sergeant," Rygal said, lowering his gun, the action of which was mimicked by the rest of them. "We thought you were something else."

"I figured," Lorien said lowering her arms. "Else I doubt you'd risk shooting me."

"It's just we thought something might have happened to you," said Johester. "You don't usually walk that far ahead of us, ma'am."

Lorien examined all of them with a cursory glance, and when Shauni met her gaze, she could not help but feel the sergeant was sizing her up.

"We'll I also thought I heard something out there, so I decided not to give myself away by making any noise."

Unslinging her autogun, Lorien glanced around. "It might be one of the beasts of the jungle returning to its old hunting ground hoping we'd packed up and left."

"We're just glad you're okay," said Shauni.

Lorien looked her way and smiled that same smile she always did and a bit more. Maybe she was finally endearing herself properly to her superior.

"Same here, now how about we stop jumping at shadows and finish our patrol. I'm sure you three are just as tired as I am."

"Yes, ma'am," said the three of them.

---

Irtanna led the march towards the front gates of the compound. Once they noticed the patrol, Irtanna had picked this woman as her cover identity. After the Callidus had stolen the face and form of the sergeant woman, they had eliminated her so Irtanna could take her uniform. The kill was a painless one, as Razuun promised, the poison shut down any nerves it came into contact with before they could transmit pain signals to the afflicted body's brain.

It was quiet and quick; no gaps could be tolerated in this operation.

Once they were a few meters from the gate which was lit by stationary lumens, the lead guard nodded towards them. A gesture of familiarity. Irtanna gave a nod back, but she noticed him watching her a little longer than he should have.

Irtanna looked into the fragments of memory she had extracted from her target through the genetic sampler she had built into her index finger. The faint tinge of anger reached her forebrain along with the feeling of furrowed brows.

Following the memory's instructions, she shot the guard an angry look, and his gaze drifted elsewhere as the squad passed by, but she was sure he resumed watching her as they passed on.

Descending down the slope of the valley, the inner working of the base became revealed to her as shards of stolen memory revealed themselves to her as she saw the sights her cover identity must have. The main communications hub was the building with the large dish. The mess hall was the arched warehouse looking building to the far end of the outpost, whole the warehouse on the other side was where the Mechanicus were working.

Within minutes, they were among the many wandering soldiers walking around the lumen lit buildings. Irtanna could feel many gazes wandering to her. This irritated her as her goal was to remain undetected. When the woman had voiced her complaints in the forest of being the object of attention, it was thought to be an exaggeration, but Irtanna was now realizing that it might be accurate. This was frustrating as she came to terms with the concept that she may have picked the wrong body to wear for this.

Gritting her teeth, she felt the echo of what the real Lorien must have felt at the time when such things happened to her. A side effect of taking in another's genetic code was that she took on their emotional responses to stimuli for a short time after the initial sampling.

But she was a Callidus, she was trained for such things. No random impulse inherited from another would be enough to overcome her discipline. The self was hers to control, not the other way around.

Coming to a halt, she turned to the trio following her. Memory spoke of always dismissing them by the main entrance, again with no reason to object, she all gave them a sharp salute. Using the voice she had taken accompanied by the accent she had spent the last hour practicing in the forest, she spoke to her charges. Her tone and accent were a perfect match to that of the true Lorien.

"Well done to you all. Get some grub if you so choose and report to the barracks."

It was formal and polite. Nothing like what they were saying in the forest, and that was how it was supposed to be. However, this was how they departed every time, likely due to keeping up appearances for the sake of not looking like they were becoming lax.

The three gave their won hearty salutes before walking away. The short chubby girl named Shauni glanced back at Irtanna, at first the Callidus thought there might have been some flaw in her impersonation of their sergeant. Those fears were unfounded as the girl just shyly waved at Irtanna, to which Irtanna returned the gesture in as friendly a manner as she could without overselling it.

Now that she was alone in the middle of an enemy stronghold, she decided to begin with her mission in earnest.

Summer's plan came to Irtanna and the Callidus quickly found the oversized power cables that ran across the main hub like the body of a glowing serpent. Trailing alongside it, she allowed it to lead her to her destination, the main power generator.

The generator was half the height of the communications hub and was constantly steaming with heat exhaust. Vents dotted its clunky looking body, pipes and tubes through and across it like the roots of a parasitic tree spreading across its host. At the base of the structure was the ghostly blue glow of plasma being harvested from some unknow source below the surface.

Irtanna did not know whether the plasma powering the generator was being taken directly from the depths below or if it was the result of natural gasses or some other substance being processed into plasma. It did not matter either way, this thing would go up in smoke before the week was up.

Standing at the main interface conduit for the generator was a red-robed techpriest. This one was the typical architype of his kind. He had no organic or human looking legs, having replaced them with nine arachnid-like appendages which moved and shuffled constantly to adjust for the movements of his upper body. His upper body bore the expected number of mechadendrites, and his organic arms had long been replaced by augmetics.

They had observed this techpriest from their vantage point for hours. If their estimated guess was right, he should be leaving his station to enter the warehouse within the next minute. A small sense of satisfaction washed over the Callidus as her internal timing was correct. Without a word of notification to anyone other than a short blurt of binaric, the techpriest straightened out his spine, making himself taller than an Astartes, and walked off. The many metal tips of his insectoid legs pounded at that the rockcrete in a staccato rhythm.

Irtanna reached into her breast pocket and pulled out the small device Lucia had given her before the drop to the planet's surface. It was a small featureless black box. While unassuming, the assassin had enough experience with esoteric technology to know better than to doubt the Vanus' handywork.

Scanning the area she made sure she was not being watched, a precaution she had to take even more seriously considering the reputation her stolen form had in this place. Satisfied she was alone; she approached the generator and followed the instructions she had been given.

With a quick motion, she slapped the box flat underneath the man control consol for the genetator. The box adhered to the metal surface and Irtanna let it go. She could easily imagine the device undergoing some sort of transformation at that very moment but spared herself the trouble. So long as it did what Lucia said it would who cared how it functioned.

"Uplink established, Insider," said Lucia over the micro-bead. "Waiting on your signal."

Irtanna did not answer, instead she made her way towards the communications hub. As she passed through the crowds, she heard them speaking. A constant reference to angels was brought up also there was a recurring icon among both the soldiery and the buildings. A long thin skull icon made of metal dotted their uniforms in one place or another.

Irtanna glanced down at her left breast to see that very symbol stitched over where her heart was supposed to be. A note was made to send the image back to the Bullet to determine if it meant anything, for now, she was focused on crippling this sleeping ambul before it had the chance to wake up.

Reaching the gates of the communications up, a pair of guards watched her step up to them. When the doors did not open, she dug into her stolen memories one last time. There had been many occasions when Lorien received invitations to the commander's bedchamber. Offering promotion to his second in command if she accepted. Despite her refusal to take this bait, the rumors had spread among the officers and the lower ranks. Combine this with an influx of new recruits and you end up with the situation Lorien was now stuck in. However, that might be an unexpected blessing.

Irtanna knew this was a gamble, but she decided to try anyway.

"I'm here to talk to the commander," she said trying to make it sound as if a professional was fighting to keep herself from sounding awkward. "It's about his proposition."

There was a rush of outrage pouring into her mind at the concept of what she was about to do. Another echo of what the true Lorien would have felt. The sense of indignity was so strong that she nearly lost control of her facial expression and let a snarl form. Irtanna steeled herself and maintained the façade.

The two guards glanced at one another, neither lowered their guns at her and Irtanna flexed her right arm just in case she needed to fight her way past them. What she got instead was a pair of smirks and one of them whispering into a small box on the wall.

After this, the steel doors to the building slip open and the pair stepped aside.

"He's on the top floor. Says there's no rush," said the man with a smirk. "Still don't take too long."

The other man snorted. "Yeah, you've been making him wait long enough. Postponing your promotion isn't a good look Palantai."

Irtanna gave a barely restrained frown which itself was fake. It would have been easy to give a genuine smile to throw the pair off, or she could have been nonchalant about it and strutted past them with all the confidence of a model on a pleasure planet.

That would have seem out of character though. So, she forced the frown to appear as disgruntled frown and briskly stepped through the door, fully aware of their glances at her.

For a moment, she allowed her suspicions to run into her mind as she walked through the dull corridors of stone and steel. The building was made in a hurry, that much she could tell from the cracked ferrocrete all around. It was either mixed disproportionally or it was not applied correctly and gravity pulled it out of place before it set. That combined with the lack of wear and tear on the structure as a whole told her that this building was new. Most likely made in recent days when either the Astronomican went down or when the traitors entered the system.

The thought that she might have been caught on some unseen camera while she planted Lucia's device entered her mind as well. Irtanna suspected they were selling her out, but if that was the case, they would not have simply stepped aside. Rather they would have offered to escort her to the commander so he could detain her when he did as all pompous fools did and dramatically unveiled the traitor in their midst.

There was a maglev up ahead and she stepped inside. Still, no one stopped her as she pressed the button for the top floor and the door closed. If she was caught, they would likely greet her when the door opened. That or this commander did more thinking with his crotch than his brain.

The maglev doors opened, and no one was there to intercept her, just corridors filled with personnel. Men and women in dress uniforms carried papers, envelopes and dataslates and ran across the passage like a swarm of busy insects. Some were calm, some looked strained, othered looked panicked while rushing to their destinations.

Irtanna stepped outside the maglev and stared down the passage. The room at the end of the corridor was where she would find her target. Walking purposefully, she gave off the impression of someone who had made up their mind only recently and received a surge of confidence as a result. It was a subtle thing, something that most normal people would not pick up on, but the first lesson she had learned at the Temple was to commit wholly to the act. Lest someone more perceptive spy the differences in posture, expression and tone.

The main communication center was lined with sensory equipment. Vox terminals lined the walls, and sitting at their stations were more helpless peons. All diligently doing their part to maintain contact with the other outposts scattered across the continent.

Few spoke however, Irtanna suspected they were monitoring the unencrypted vox traffic coming from Athenis and its outlaying cities. They were doing the same thing the Vanus was doing, only they had all the information they needed and were only watching for any unexpected action from the governor.

They were monitoring the enemy they knew and left themselves exposed to the enemy they did not expect.

Walking inside, she saw the man she was searching for. Standing by the only section of the room not given over to the vox equipment, staring out over the entire compound through a large window was a man.

He was tall, just under Vitalii in height and was broad-shouldered. The commander stood with a straight back and his head held high, either this was his natural gait or something he had rehearsed into habit for the sake of those who followed him.

As Irtanna drew closer, she saw a trail of smoke drift up from the front of his head. The memory of a cigar flashed in her mind as Lorien's memories told her this man liked to smoke continuously.

Coming a stop in the center of the room, a respectable distance from the man, she straightened her back and gave a crisp salute. While the proposal was ridiculous in Irtanna's opinion, she knew he expected her to follow procedure when around the staff. He was still the commanding officer and Lorien was still his subordinate.

"Commander Griel," she greeted, not lowering her hand. "Sergeant Lorien Palantai reporting."

"Lorien," said Griel, slowly turning to face her.

A wave of disgust fell over Irtanna as she looked upon the face of the man who had put Lorien through such grief. While not ugly, Griel was nothing special, he was plain in a lot of ways. The only things Irtanna's objective point of view gave him was his sharp jawline and no blubber that many high-ranking officers accrued. Those who weren't expected to do the actual fighting had a nasty tendency to indulge in the finer things in life as it went. This often results in them looking nothing like what you would expect from a general and more like an aristocrat who does nothing but eat and give orders.

To Griel's credit, he had escaped that trap; even under his uniform and thick overcoat, she could tell he was well muscled. He had a full head of dark hair and was clean shaven. However, while it appeared he had kept himself in good health, he had evidently fallen victim to a different sort of vice.

The disgust pushed at Irtanna's faculties was not one born of physical appearance. It was one spawned from a sense of injustice and a personal grudge.

"I take it you have had sufficient time to consider my offer of promotion then?" he asked calmly, fiddling nonchalantly with the cigar in his hand.

Irtanna wanted to yawn at this power play. It was common enough on Hydraphur and she had gotten bored of it then as she was now.

"I have, sir," she said, still saluting as he had not given her permission to be at ease.

Slowly, he approached her, standing right in front of her, he stared down. To his credit once again, his eyes were locked onto her own, rather than wandering aimlessly across her borrowed form like the rest who decided to look her way.

"Do you accept, sergeant? I've been gracious enough to leave it as an open invitation, but I'll admit you've been testing my patience."

Irtanna kept her features stiff and her posture firm. "Yes, sir."

He backed away and said, "At ease."

She relaxed her posture slightly, not planning to slip into informality just yet.

Griel raised his voice so all present would hear him. "Clear the room, give me and the sergeant some privacy."

"But sir..." began one of the senior staff, bit Griel cut him off.

"It won't be long, Stetson. I'm simply discussing the sergeant's promotion."

Irtanna observed the resigned looks on most of their faces as they filed out of the office. Irtanna suspected that Lorien was not the first to catch Griel's eye. The types of men who went this far were often unrestrained when they felt they did not receive their due. Lorien might have been given a merciful end when compared to what this man might have done to her. Sooner or later, he would have gotten tired of being amicable.

The door closed with a sliding his, leaving the two of them alone in silence. Griel did not let it simmer to the point of being awkward. He approached the window and took a puff from his cigar.

"I'm glad you made the smart move here, Lorien," he said looking outside with his back to her.

Irtanna knew she could take the opportunity to end this farce, but the mission was to gather information as well as destabilize the enemy. So, she decided she would milk this for what it was worth.

Her posture became more casual and she walked up to Griel's side, just out of reach of his arm. "I figured if I didn't take it now, I might not get it again when this was over."

"That's right," Griel said with a puff. "Once Praolz is dead and gone, most of our efforts will be restructuring Pralthax to the angels' design. We'll be too busy for promotions then."

Irtanna shot him a sidelong glance, his expression spoke of a slight sense of purpose and exaltation. Whomever these angels were, they commanded true respect, even from a man like Griel.

"Do you know what they intend?" she asked, making sure to put a healthy amount of respect in her voice. "I mean, we've dedicated everything to this. Shouldn't we at least know what they want?"

Griel looked at her, and only now did his eyes wander across her form, but only briefly before turning back to the window. "Only Hemril knows. They only talk with him and those who they need to liaison with. If I knew, trust me Lorien, I'd be using it in my speeches to the men and women down there."

Irtanna did not press the subject further. Instead, she decided to focus on a different angel. With a coy smile, she stepped closer to Griel, almost pressing herself against him.

"You know, once this is said and done, there will be a new top class in our society."

Griel looked at her with the first break in his usual stoic demeanor. Irtanna had guessed right, Lorien was more of a tomboy and was not prone to such flirtatious mannerisms. This had taken the commander by surprise, but not enough for him to doubt who was standing before him.

"That's correct," he said with a slight cough, righting himself. "The old order will need to be thrown out. That means new blood will need to step in to fill the gaps."

"And one of them will be you I take it?" she asked, taking another step closer to him.

"That's right," he answered, looking her over as if he were talking to a complete stranger. "This sort of attitude is new for you. What's brought this sudden change?"

Irtanna let out a giggle, one that the man had not expected either, but it had the effect she wanted. "Let's just say I've had a lot of time to get a new perspective."

She leaned into him and hugged his arm, pressing it against her chest. "I figured, why settle for just a promotion when I can climb that ladder with you."

Her eyes became half-lidded as she stared at him dreamily with a sultry smile. "You weren't going to stop with just a polite invitation anyway, Griel. So, why not go all the way?"

She pouted, pretending a sudden thought had entered her mind that she had not considered. "Unless, you already have someone else in mind and I'm just some fun for you while the job is getting done?"

He shook his head vehemently. "Of course not, none of those old crones in Athenis can possibly stand up to you."

Irtanna laughed. "Old crones? Disrespecting the nobility now, commander?"

With the cigar in his mouth, he used his free arm to stroke her dark brown hair. "Most of them will be dust anyway and I'd like nothing more than to see you there standing with me as we set the world right."

"And just who will be standing there with us?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow while keeping that seductive smile. "Not too many, I hope. The last thing we need is to slide back into what ruined this world in the first place."

"Nah," he said, taking his cigar and blowing out smoke. "Hemril will be in charge once Praolz falls and there will be others to help maintain order while we rebuild."

"No one you know?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Not close enough to warrant that kind of intel until I need it."

A smirk crossed his features as his arm reached around her waist and pulled her up to him. Irtanna let out a surprised yelp, she needed to appear as if this was still new to her.

"But enough about them, how about we focus on us?" he requested with what was supposed to be a charming smile. Irtanna had seen so many of its like on her previous missions that she was numb to it.

Rather than sigh, she let out another giggle and placed her hands on his chest. "I didn't think you'd wait so long to do that. Thought you'd go for it the second I got close."

"Waiting makes the reward all the sweeter," he said. "Now how about we go to my quarters to finalize your promotion?"

"Easy there, hotshot," she chuckled, gently pushing for him to release her. "Let's milk that just a little bit longer. I'm already dealing with the consequences of your offer and if they see us walking out together, I won't be able to get any respect around here."

Irtanna half expected him to disregard her excuse, but he had more self-control than she thought. With a slight sigh of one who was used to being left in suspense, both substantial and miniscule, he unwrapped his arm from her waist.

"I suppose that's fair enough," he said holding in the dissatisfaction of having to wait longer, but Irtanna saw satisfaction on his face at the thought finally getting what he desired.

"Poor fool," thought the assassin.

"I've put a lot of pressure on you with the new recruits and those rumors about you likely made it worse," he surmised turning to the window. "Besides, if I become a noble in the future, I wouldn't want the lady next to me to have the reputation of a harlot."

"Aww, you do care," she cooed, pressing herself into him and running a finger down his chest and running over his shirt pocket. Then she backed away before she pushed him too far. "I suppose I'll be going then. It was a good chat, see you soon, commander."

Her voice was lower in pitch as she said his title, imbuing it with a suggestive quality. It worked as he looked stiff with both frustration and slight annoyance at her toying with him. Irtanna knew that he could not jeopardize his reputation by forcing himself on her, and he knew she knew that. Hence why her teasing annoyed him.

"I will see you at my quarter's, sergeant."

Irtanna walked towards the door, her footsteps loud and purposeful. Deliberately making sure he heard her gaining distance from him. She reached the door, opened it, but did not walk out. Rather, she stared at the staff outside, who were patiently waiting for her to step out so they could resume their duties. Many of which watched her with looks of disappointment and scorn.

Irtanna gave them all a wide condescending smile. She gave a triple rapt on the floor with one boot, simulating the sound of her walking out, and she shut the door in their faces. With a fluid motion, she inserted the keycard she had stolen from Griel into the lock, sealing the door.

Ignoring the outraged shouts of those outside, she turned to Griel. The fool was ignoring the noise from outside, he must have figured the staff were getting into an argument or something. All the better. Time for the second stage of the plan.

Her next words were delivered with the coldness of certain death.

"Lights out."

---

Within exactly one second, the generator at the center of the compound seemed to die. All the terminals and monitors went blank, causing the multilegged techpriest to blurt out an alarmed phrase in binaric chant.

In an instant, the entire outpost was plunged into darkness. Every lumen, every minor source of illumination around the valley sputtered out like a windblown candle.

A sudden silence fell on the outpost as all the technology creating ambient noise went dead and the people fell into shocked surprise at the unexpected event. Then a loud murmuring broke out as the masses below the office all started asking questions. Every single one centered around what was happening.

Of all those inquiries, Griel was quick to voice the same concerns. "What the devil just happened?"

His hand raised to go for the vox bead he had in his ear but stopped short when he saw a strange glow light up the darkened room. It was a light green and the light source was emanating from behind him, casting his shadow across the floor and over the window side. The image was almost like his shadow was falling to its death.

Before he could fully process the thought, a sharp pain tore through his spine and ran forward through his lungs and sternum. A gasp of agony left his lips as a glowing green blade burst forth from his chest.

For a single solitary second, Griel stood paralyzed, unable to think or understand what had just happened beyond the pain blinding his mind to all other forms of coherency. The pain intensified as the blade twisted and then he felt like he was coming apart as it ripped through his torso, slicing itself free and severing his right arm at the elbow.

Griel twisted as he fell, he had just enough consciousness left to see who had attacked him. The sight of Lorien standing over him with a green blade extending from the sleeve of her dress uniform was the last thing he saw as his consciousness faded, along with his life shortly after.

---

Irtanna let out a relieved sigh as she could drop this façade. With a thought, she shed the disguise of Lorien Palantai and became herself once again. Her hair returned to its natural lustrous blonde hue, and she quickly tied it into the long braid she always wore. The synskin covering her body almost appeared from nowhere as its mysterious qualities worked in tandem with the polymorphine running through her system.

There was a sense of satisfaction at seeing the man dead. The real Lorien must have truly hated him.

The door to the room shook as the vox officers outside became desperate to reach their commander. Just as she intended when she shut the door on them. Discarding the sergeant's uniform, Irtanna reached down to her hip and unholstered her second weapon.

It was the size of a pistol, but it had an ovoid shaped body with a glasslike barrel containing a green gas which contained a miniature storm of crackling emerald lighting. Standing before the door, she calmly raised the Neural Shredder and took aim.

The door burst open with a grunt of effort from the man named Stetson, nearly falling flat on his face. The man stumbled into the room, and after righting his balance, his focus fell on the black clad murderess in front of him, giving him a clear view of the barrel of her gun.

He meant to flee, as did the pair who stood by the door. Their escape was foiled by the ignorance of those behind them who still thought their commander lived.

Even if they all realized the truth in unison, they would not have escaped.

Irtanna pulled the trigger, and a low keening noise filled the room as the strange and unseen blast wave of the Neural Shredder crashed into the vox officers filling the passage beyond. Some, those closest to the rear, began to scream as the unknowable energies of the esoteric weapon passed through them.

Stetson and those by the door collapsed as their nervous systems liquefied, the rest wailed and whimpered as they began to bleed from their pores, ears, eyes, noses and mouths. Each of them tried to flee, as if getting distance from the weapon that had inflicted this upon them would lessen the effects to something they could survive. It was already too late, one by one they all fell to the floor, their brains melting and spilling out their faces.

The Callidus assassin looked over her handywork. A good number of kills in the opening moments of the final step of the plan.

Sauntering over to the window, she looked down at the masses below. Despite the darkness, her mask allowed her to perceive them with perfect clarity. They were watching her, all of them.

It was not surprising, in the sudden darkness and lack of lumens, the glow of her Phase Sword and Neural Shredder had become the sole source of illumination in the compound.

No doubt the screams of the dying were heard, and she was giving them a clear view of their killer. A sudden rush of exhilaration filled her at this moment. Had this been a solo mission for her, this would have been the final act, the last bow before she left the stage. However, for Team SILVER, this was simply the calm before a crescendo.

Irtanna ran down the passage and began her bloody work. She needed to continue to make a scene. Draw more flies into her web before her fellow spiders closed the net. Room by room, she charged in and hacked whomever she found into pieces.

"The Emperor's Judgement is upon you, traitors!" she cried as she cut a woman in half. "And He has declared your execution!"

---

"She's inside," said Vitalii as he watched Irtanna thought the scope of his rifle.

Still in the guise of the soldier woman he had choked out earlier, the Callidus walked through the main doors of the communications hub.

Summer stood behind him on the hill where they had found the outpost first. Razuun stood at the Huntress' side. There was a small bag at her feet, sealed shut as she checked her weapons once again for the coming conflict. The long blade mounted atop her Toxicant Gauntlet flipped to the fore. The razor-sharp edge pointed forward from her wrist, ready to swipe at anything that got too close. Then it flipped back into its standby position, sitting upside-down, edge facing upward from her forearm.

She repeated this action multiple times, the blade flipping from ready to stationary.

Summer did not mind this at all as she had met plenty of huntsmen across Remnant who had their own little rituals they carried out before combat.

"Then it's almost time," said the Huntress, with a lower tone than she intended. Her mood had not improved when she realized the consequences of her plan.

"You sound nervous," said Razuun, not taking her focus off the gauntlet. "Does what we are about to do bother you this much?"

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel anything," answered Summer. "I don't like killing people. Even if they are traitors."

"If we do not end this rebellion, the only result will be more bloodshed," said the Venenum emphatically. "Better we do it than drag those who are not meant for violence into this."

Summer watched the Venenum as she continued to inspect her gear. Was that sympathy she just heard? Moreover, that just so happened to be the same logic Summer herself would have used had she been forced to explain her actions to her family.

Razuun paused and looked at the Huntress. "Besides, this was your plan."

A chuckle forced its way through Summer's mouth. "Caught me there. Not like I was about to back out."

"I wouldn't expect you to," said the Venenum assassin. "We are meant for this, even you."

"Killing people?" Summer asked, not liking where this was going.

Then an odd sound came from her helmet. It was a clicking noise. Summer recognized the sound as Razuun clicking her tongue. "No. Simply the proper and precise application of violence. It is just ill fate that we need to apply it on such a scale tonight."

Summer stared at Razuun for a moment, then she smiled. Feeling her spirits lifted, even if just a bit. "I never took you for a deep thinker."

Razuun scoffed dismissively. "I simply know what I am and do not make excuses. A poison can be used as medicine, but it is still a poison. How the poison is utilized is up to the wielder."

"And tonight, we are applying poison to see how the rest of the body reacts," said the Huntress, reminding herself of the logic she had formed her plan around.

Razuun nodded to her leader. "Then you understand."

"She had made contact with their commander," said Vitalii.

Summer reached out with her mind and peered through the eyes of the Vinidcare. Through the scope of his Exitus, she saw a man standing by a wide window with a smoking cigar in his mouth. Behind him, Irtanna, in the disguise of the woman, was giving a salute.

Summer did not need to see what would happen next. With a pulse of will, she extricated herself from the Vindicare's mind.

"It's almost time then," she observed as Vitalii stood to face her.

"Yes," he said.

"Well, I don't need to go over the plan again, do I?" she asked, looking to her two teammates. This was, again, out of habit. Her old team was always so difficult when they were in the planning stage of their missions. The rest of STRQ wanted nothing more than to just rush in and start slaughtering any Grimm they saw. That meant any mission which required more than a swift swing or punch was a test in patience for her.

The answers she got in return from the two assassins not only relieved her but reminded her that those days were a thing of the past.

"I am fully aware of my objective," said Vitalii. "Keep them disorganized."

"Same here," concurred Razuun, kneeling down to pick up the small back that gave a sinister clink as she pulled it up. "No survivors, no witnesses."

Summer smiled in amusement. How was it that she functioned so well with people who were trained to be killers when she needed to grind her teeth just to get her old team to listen to her?

Realizing that she was reminiscing on the past again, she shook her head. The sudden disruption of her thoughts reminded her of something.

"Before the lights go out, there's just one last thing."

Vitalii said nothing, as was his temperament, he patiently waited for her to conclude her briefing. Razuun decided to try and cut to the point as Summer guessed she was becoming eager to get going.

"What might that be?"

"Give me your hand, both of you," ordered the Huntress, presenting both open palms to them.

The pair glanced at one another for a moment before looking at their leader. Summer found it impossible to read their expressions though those masks.

"Is this another tradition from your homeworld?" asked Razuun.

"Not exactly," replied the Huntress. "It is something we do but it's far from a ritual."

"Does it serve a purpose?" asked Vitalii.

"Yes, just take my hand and you'll see when the fighting starts."

Vitalii appeared to need no further convincing, he took her hand in a solid grip. It was not unreasonably tight as she had come to expect from many who wanted to indirectly flex on others. Hei had tried that with her one too many times and she made sure to pay him back for it.

Razuun watched on with a bit more hesitation. "I do not see how joining hands will aid us."

Summer frowned, annoyed with the objection. "Will you just do it. Ten seconds, that's all I'm asking."

"But how does this aid us?"

"It's easier to experience than to explain," answered the Huntress, pushing her extended hand closer to the Venenum.

Razuun was still for a moment, but then she reached out with he left hand, the one free of the blade and toxic fingers, and took Summer's hand.

A soft white glow surrounded Summer's body, upon contact with the assassins the glow spread to them, changing color as it did so. Within seconds, their bodies were completely enveloped in their own soft lights.

Releasing them, Summer smiled as she studied the auras of her teammates. Vitalii's was a strong red, almost the same hue as hers had been before her demise. Razuun's aura was healthy green, thankfully not matching some of the chemicals in those toxin tubes around her body.

As their auras faded into inactivity, they looked to her. Vitalii as usual was silent, waiting for an explanation, when Summer offered none, he merely accepted it and raised his rifle to a standby position.

"What did you just do to us?" asked Razuun, sounding similar to Irtanna when her aura was unlocked.

Summer smirked at the reminder. "Just a precaution. Last thing I want is one of my teammates getting hurt on our first mission."

Reaching behind her, she pulled our Ivory Dorn and set it to its spear form. "Now, get ready. Once the lights go down, we'll only have a few minutes to get down there and set everything up."

Razuun nodded, likely having decided any further questions now would be counterproductive. So, the two women joined Vitalii as he watched the compound.

They stood among the tree trunks in silence, waiting in the dark for their moment to pounce.

Then it came.

The lights illuminating the valley blinked out, leaving nothing but the abyss. Summer had no issue seeing in the dark. Even before her rebirth, her eyes were well adapted to the dark forest nights. Now with those eyes pushed to superhuman levels, she saw in the night almost as clearly as the day, and then some.

"Go!" she said and the three ran down the slope, each going in a different direction.

Summer and Vitalii stayed within sight of one another as they neared the fence while Razuun ran out of view.

The gate drew closer, the guards were none the wiser as Vitalii drew one of his pistols and dropped all five of them with a series of silenced shots. The sniper had holstered his pistol before the last body hit the ground.

They passed through the gate without issue and sprinted down the hill at full speed. Much to her satisfaction, Summer's guess about still being the fastest member of whatever team she was on remained accurate as Vitalii began to lag behind.

That was of no consequence as the plan had this in mind.

The pair split off as they reached the first building, she ran around it along the edge of the compound to avoid the gathering crowd which were likely aware that they had an unwanted visitor in their communications center.

The sound of autogun fire was heard among the buzz of chatter, and Summer knew Irtanna was doing her part.

Vitalii for his purpose in this little chess match was already scaling the first building he found. Climbing up a completely vertical wall with whatever handhold he could find.

While he did that Summer made her way to her position, the building next to the Mechanicus workshop.

---

Vitalii vaulted over the top of the building and unslung his Exitus rifle. It was time to begin. Crouching by the edge of the roof, he got to one knee and took aim. The scope of his weapon scanned the terrain like a sea predator who tasted the scent of blood and was now on the prowl for prey.

The soldiers below were doing one of two things. The first thing they were doing was charging into the communications center where the Callidus was likely taking them apart in piecemeal. The second and more prominent at the moment was a search for guidance and leadership. Many of these traitors had the bearing of new recruits. Those with experience were doing their best to rally those around them.

The successful among them led their troops after the Callidus. The rest congregated to the highest commanding officers remaining to them. Red flames ignited across the compound as they resorted to flares for lighting. Not the best choice in Vitalii's opinion as it only highlighted areas of activity.

His crosshairs centered on a man standing by what looked to be their medicae center. A group of at least fifty were forming ranks before him and about twenty were forming a loose perimeter while he barked out orders.

"I'm in place, how's your preparations coming, Ravage?" asked Summer over the vox.

"I need ten more minutes," replied Razuun in neutral tone that suggested haste and focus.

"Vision? Are you ready?"

"Awaiting the call," he answered, not taking his sights off his soon-to-be victim.

"Insider?"

The vox crackled with the sound of gunfire and screams. The Callidus' voice was tinged with exertion. "I have their full attention, Seeker. At least seven squads have come up the maglev to greet me."

Vitalii did not need to imagine the charnel house she was creating in there. Having worked alongside Callidus assassins in his early career, he knew their strengths. Confronting one in a confined space was a surefire way to commit suicide. Not only were their weapons best suited for such an environment, but their flexibility allowed them to operate effectivenely in limited space.

It was smart for her to stay inside the building where they would be forced to come to her. It limited not only their maneuveravlity with the lack of open space to leverage their numbers, but it allowed her to remove the one advantage their guns gave them over her. That advantage being the range and overlapping fields of fire. They could not surround her or fire carelessly, lest they kill their allies and when facing an opponent as swift as a member of the Officio, you have scant seconds to react before you die.

Summer had truly taken their talents into account when she formulated this plan. The Callidus was placed in the perfect spot for this operation. Irtanna was daring them to come after her and that allowed the rest of them to sneak in.

"Perfect. Vision, time for phase three."

"Acknowledged."

Vitalii unclipped the magazine from his Exitus rifle and exposed the ammunition inside to his eye lenses. A three-dimensional display appeared before his left eye. It was a standard sniper rifle ammunition, nothing specialized was required for this operation but he had his usual assortment of rounds at the ready just in case.

Slamming the magazine back home, he leveled his rifle at the officer by the medicae facility once again and took a breath.

"Engaging targets."

With a slow exhale, he stilled his pulse and pulled the trigger. His rifle was silenced just like his auxiliary pistol, as such, it made almost no sound at it sent a bullet soaring across the valley. It passed by those below without so much as a glance before planting itself on the upper left of the man's forehead.

His arms flew into the air as the force of the impact sent him hurtling to the ground. His skull was completely blown open.

Vitalii did not wait to see how those around him reacted as he searched for a new target. Running his scope across the compound, he found what he guessed to be a lieutenant calling the conscripts to him by the barracks.

The Vindicare set his sights on that one and planted a bullet in his chest. The force of the impact sent him sliding across the floor, the conscripts around him either froze in shock or ran up to him in a futile attempt to save his life.

That shot shattered his ribcage and crushed his lungs along with his heart. No field medicae can mend that sort of damage.

Many of the conscripts began to look around frantically. They were starting to search for him now. Sooner or later they would find him and he would have to reposition. He would let loose a few more shots before that.

More of their commanders fell. A sergeant by the generator, likely calling for someone to examine it fell as Vitalii nailed him in the throat and destroyed his neck. A corporal by the communication's building was trying to stop the squads from mindlessly charging inside. That shot was timed as Vitalii waited for the last squad to ignore the officer before plastering the man's insides on the wall.

"Insider," Vitalii voxed. "You should extricate yourself. They are becoming aware of us and will likely bomb the building."

"I hear you," Irtanna returned, accompanied by a sound Vitalii recognized as the discharge of a Neural Shredder.

The bark of a rifle echoed across the compound. On the roof of another building sat Summer who joined Vitalii in the elimination of threats, unlike him however, her weapon had no silencer. This drew attention rapidly, and all those remaining in the enemy command structure focused on her.

Vitalii saw the reactions on their faces through his scope. Panic was starting to set in, but those who had the steel to lead were holding them together. So, Vitalii decided to add to their panic.

Those below did not know the number of adversaries they were facing, but the human imagination often blew things out of proportion. It was that irrational component of the human mind that spawned terror.

Vitalii mumbled an ancient adage he had learned when he was young. "Without imagination there is no horror."

To add to their perceived terrors, he removed his silencer and fired at the first officer he set his sights on. The sergeant went down missing an arm. Then another by a different building, this one appeared to be their armory as soldiers were rushing out with heavy weapons.

One man was carrying a heavy stubber with a tripod mount with another man hauling a box full of ammunition. Vitalii brought both down before he pulled the empty magazine free to swap it with a fresh replacement.

As he fired, the bang of his gun caused heads to turn from Summer towards the building he was perched on. Within minutes, a stray bullet flew above the Vindicare. They were responding now, and he knew he would need to reposition soon.

A rocket flew up towards the communications hub and an explosion of red and orange light illuminated the entire compound for a third of a minute. The wiring and electronics inside the building caught fire and continued to burn.

"Insider, are you alright?" asked Summer, worry coating her voice.

"I am fine," answered the Callidus. "I am sneaking out through ground floor now."

Vitalii examined the crowd, and he noticed they were better equipped now. Some were loading rocket launchers while others had grenade launchers. They peppered the communications hub, lighting the whole building on fire. The spy mask's enhanced audio senses detected the screams from inside the newly blazing wreckage. These fools had become so frazzled that they were willing to kill their own in order to remove the threat.

Vitalii felt the ferrocrete beneath him shake as rockets impacted the building. Standing up, he ran for the access point to the roof. A door which led to a staircase. Vitalii wasted no time in seeing whether the door was locked or not. Sliding his rifle over his back, he kicked the door off its hinged, sending it crashing down the stairs.

Drawing his auxiliary Exitus pistol, he hastily made his way down the steps, vaulting down to the next floor for expediency. He ignored all doors and the pleas that came from behind them.

As he reached the ground floor, he kicked open another door and found himself in the main lobby of the building. A squad of enemy troopers were making their way out the front doors and Vitalii followed.

With a blink click in his visor display, he activated the cameleoline properties of his stealth suit and ran through the door. He stuck close to the wall as the bombardment of the building took place. The fibers of his suit changed their hue as well as their texture to match the stone he touched. Navigating around the building, he crept into the shadows and observed the crowd.

The flashes from the explosions were making the men look like crazed animals as they took relish in achieving assumed victory over their foe. Wicked smiles and mad grins were found on just as many faces as there were determined frowns.

"Relocating," voxed Vitalii.

"Meet me by the barracks," called Irtanna. "Seeker, will you be joining us?"

"Don't worry about me," Summer replied. "I've got my part handled. Just be ready for Ravage."

Vitalii stayed in the darkness of the buildings, only moving between them when the light of the flames fladed enough for him to not cast a stark shadow. The fools were reveling in this and that was according to plan. When panicked, people either retaliate or flee. When the action of retaliation provides results, they are prone to cheering.

Curses, profanities, mindless jabbering echoed among the crowd as their emotions ran high.

The barracks were in sight, and he could see the last remaining officers standing by the warehouse sized entrance. They were in the midst of restoring order, shouting orders and even hitting those who were too caught up in the fight to listen to them.

Vitalii saw more than a few soldiers who were taking the opportunity to desert. Any who happened to see him were swiftly silenced by his pistol. No one was allowed to see them and live. Dozens fell before he came to the rear of the armory building. Most of the enemy were gathering in the center of the compound as they gathered their false courage.

The Vindicare skulked around the building in shadow and found the barracks in sight.

A figure came around the corner of the building directly in Vitalii's path and be brought up his pistol to fire. The figure raised her hands and Vitalii recognized her instantly. Irtanna stood before him in a female officer's unfirm. Not the one they had taken from the sergeant in the woods. His mask identified blood and other substances on it.

Neither said a word as Vitalii lowered his gun and nodded. Irtanna discarded the unform and peered around the corner of the armory building. Vitalii joined her and they both saw the enemy beginning to form ranks once again.

They were gathering in loose formations before their leaders. Those that would listen anyway, which was a sizable number. Vitalii was sure that if he were spotted, they would overwhelm both him and Irtanna by sheer numbers alone.

"In position," came the voice of Razuun over the vox.

"Preparations?" asked Summer as an explosion tore away part of her perch. Vitalii saw the muzzle flash of her weapon as she continued to goad the enemy.

"Complete."

"Okay, I'm moving to my next goal. Where are you?"

"Overseeing the harvest," said Razuun and Vitalii could hear a tinge of excitement in her voice.

Looking up towards the barracks, his mask outlined the Venenum assassin's silhouette standing at the edge of the roof. Her back was gone and a pair of those glass globes were clutched in both hands.

"No holding back, Ravage," said the Huntress in what sounded like a command. "We've set them up, now you knock them down."

"Gladly."

Vitalii watched as the Venenum hurled the quartet of globes into the air. He shot a glance to where the Huntress was a moment earlier only to see a burning wreck where she had been perched.

The four globes exploded in mid-air and a cloud of noxious fumes formed above the crowd. The light from the fires robbed the agglomeration of gas of its natural colour and gave it an almost mystic quality. The shadows cast within it were deeper and the bright hues were a match for the brightness of the fires.

Few among the traitors were sharp enough to identify this as a threat before it was too late, and even less of those managed to avoid what came next. The clouds fell upon them with an almost spiritual quality, the fumes vanishing the closer they came to the ground. It washed over them with the gentleness of a slight breeze. This ran contrast to the masses losing their cohesion and fleeing as those who knew what they saw cried out, "Gas attack!"

Vitalii and Irtanna watched with started fascination as the soldiers began to convulse and fall to the floor. They writhed and cried as their skin began to change. It looked subtle at first, like a small rash, their skin began to discolor and redden to the point of looking raw.

Then came the blood, it leaked from them like water being squeezed from a sponge. Soon every exposed patch of skin on them became slick with the red of their own vitae. Some tried to fight through the pain, they crawled on the grown as their bodily functions self-destructed. Their uniforms darkened as the scarlet liquid soaked them from head to toe. The ground beneath them became slick and they could make no more progress as their elbows and ankles slipped on their own fluids.

Vitalii had seen many horrific sights in his long career, but few could match the scene before him now. A mass of humans was slowly bleeding out as their blood vessels exploded all across their skin. They could not even scream as their bodies ruptured on a microscopic level.

Looking up, he saw the Razuun overseeing the mass murder and he was reminded why the Venenum Temple was the one his instructors had warned him not to cross.

"That won't affect us, right?" asked Irtanna, trying not to sound as disturbed as Vitalii felt.

"It won't seep through your suits," answered Razuun as she began to scale down the barracks. "I recommend we use the opportunity to engage."

Vitalii, using years of mental condition, both self-imposed and those dictated by the Temple, shrugged the horror of what he was seeing away. Raising his pistol, he leapt from cover and began firing at anyone who was still standing. There were still a good number of them who were out of the gas' effective range, however, those at the edge were already showing the early signs of the poison.

Irtanna followed Vitalii, Phase Sword extended, and Neural Shredder primed. She ran straight ahead towards the bewildered foe, and they finally took stock of their executioners. The Callidus danced among them in a whirl of motion with rarely more than one limb touching the ground at any given time.

Razuun leapt down upon them from above, the blade of her gauntlet extended and another pair of globes in hand. As she landed among them, she did a twirl and tossed each globe in opposite directions.

As more fell to the scourge contained within those globes, Razuun attacked with her blade in a manner not too dissimilar to Irtanna. Both were artisans of close quarters combat with pirouettes, summersaults, and powerful kicks. The surgeries that allowed them to become what they were enhanced each of their blows to the point where they could shatter bones with ease. Irtanna spun on her hands and delivered an upside-down split sweeping kick which took a man's jaw clean off. Using the momentum from her spin, she threw herself into a winding summersault and cut another man in half with her Phase Sword before landing.

A shot from her Neural Shredder sent a dozen soldiers to the ground, screaming or simply letting out soft exhalations as they expired.

Razuun launched herself into the air and crashed the heel on her foot on a man's shoulder, driving him to the ground and leaving her standing over him with one knee on his chest. A soldier in front of her raised his bayonet, having temporarily forgotten about his loaded gun, and ran at her. In one motion, she slashed her blade through the face of the man she had pinned and continued on, cutting open the fool running at her.

Razuun jinked to the side as a third assailant began shooting at her on full auto. She avoided the hail of bullets with a trio of complex and dazzling acrobatic flips before her pistol went from her thigh belt to her hand on a forth flip.

A single shot exited the barrel and struck the man in the shoulder. Whatever pain he felt quickly faded as he prepared to continue firing. The lack of pain was mistaken for a good sign, but he quickly realized that he no longer felt anything in his arm. To his horror, he saw his flesh beginning to blister and boil, as if he were being cooked alive by his boiling blood.

Razuun paid the man no more attention as she moved on to further victims.

Vitalii, but contrast to the two, was not artful in his killing. His Temple emphasized pure efficiency above anything else. His shots were on point and precise every time. Three pulls of the trigger meant three kills. It was a sign of fault for a Vindicare to use more bullets than what was required.

Each movement was a part of an economy of motion that worked to maximize his effectiveness as the Imperium's preeminent marksman. It was the pride of his Temple and he would not bring shame to it.

As he moved through the unfolding chaos of the nighttime skirmish, unlike his compatriots, he was simple in his methodology. Unlike the other two, he did not need to approach you, use advanced martial arts or deploy esoteric weaponry. He was death on sight. If an enemy fell within his vision, they were already dead.

A soldier sprang out from behind a piece of fallen ferrocrete, cast from the communications nub, and aimed an autogun at Vitalii. Despite being prepared to fire before his enemy knew he was there, the soldier's skull exploded before he took in the appearance of his enemy.

Vitalii dropped the autopistol magazine from his Exitus pistol and loaded in a knew one within the span of a second.

Hearing hushed footsteps behind him, he tilted his head to look at the shadow he was casting on the nearby building through the firelight. A trio of men were trying to sneak up on him with knives.

Vitalii swung around and quickly, almost mechanically, downed each of them within the following moment.

Scanning the area, he could see that they were drawing in the remainder of the force stationed in the compound. While a good portion of them had fallen to Summer's plan, a good number of them still remained despite how they were being slaughtered.

Still, if enough gathered, the three of them could be overwhelmed.

A loud crash rang out from the Mechanicus facility, and a small dust cloud obscured the entrance. The sound of treads reached Vitalii, and he drew his rifle. In a moment, he had exchanged the standard ammunition for something capable of countering what he predicted the techpriests were working on in there.

From the could rolled a Leman Russ Vanquisher. Its long battle cannon aimed straight ahead and its heavy flamers swiveling in search of the ones who dared offend the Machine Spirit's rites of appeasement.

Atop the tank was a techpriest with an octet of legs which jittered and constantly adjusted, as if the body mounted atop them could never acquire a proper sense of balance. The techpriest blurted out what Vitalii assumed was either a condemnation or a warcry in binaric as he raised his Omnissian Axe and pointed it at the assassins.

Razuun and Irtanna ran for cover as the battle cannon turned on its axis and opened fire. The blast shredded what remained of the corpses around the pair and sent the two of them flying. Vitalii could not take his eyes off the pair as he saw their bodies enveloped in a strange glow. Both had a different colour, green for Razuun, and blue for Irtanna.

Vitalii realized that this was the same glow Summer had brought forth right before the operation began. What was even more remarkable was that neither assassin appeared to suffer damage as they both righted themselves in mid-air and landed on their feet.

Irtanna did not look bothered by this development while Razuun stared at herself.

They weren't the only ones shocked by this. The techpriest had frozen for a moment as his cogitators tried to process this seemingly unnatural durability of his targets. He was able to calculate the exact force of that blast and the amount of damage a human body could withstand in conjunction to it. Therefore, he knew how close the blast had to land in order to render an unarmored human combat ineffective. That shot should have rendered them both unconscious at the very least. He knew his calculations were correct, they always had been. How they still stood uninjured was a conundrum that he was unable to process.

Engraged by this flaw in the natural logic of his processes, he shouted in binaric again and the tank moved to fire again.

Vitalii raised his rifle to take the tank out but heard someone come up from behind him. With a quick pirouette, he brought the but of his rifle around into the face of his attacker. The man who was trying to shank him got his skull broken as a consequence.

Returning his focus to the tank, he planned on killing the techpriest but was witness to a cloud of some sort descending from the roof of the facility. The cloud was white with shades of red in it and it appeared to be made from some leaflike material.

As it descended it turned into a spiral, spinning so fast that it resembled a drill as it fell upon the tank. The techpriest only had enough time to look up as the mass crashed down upon him. Vitalii watched as the cyborg was eviscerated with the ease of wet parchment. The mass continued its descent and bored into the tank itself.

The mass then exploded outward from the tank and made straight for them. It moved as if alive and animated by a sentient will. The soldiers that observed this screamed in terror, not only seeing this sight destroy one of their best weapons but believing this to be some sort of supernatural entity.

They ran, all of them ran screaming as the accumulation of fear for their own lives and the unknowable nature of this entity overrode their will to fight.

Vitalii trained his rifle on the cloud as it flew towards him.

"Wait," came a familiar voice in his mind. "Vision, it's me."

Vitalii tilted his head but did not lower his rifle. Only a member of the team knew to address them by their code names when in the field. With hesitation, he asked, "Seeker?"

The cloud jerked to the side, as if to indicate something, but he had no idea, maybe a gesture or a nod of some sort.

"Yes."

Now Vitalii lowered his weapon, as he realized he was conversing with his leader, although in a different form.

Irtanna and Razuun approached the cloud, both of them sized it up but neither showed aggression. They had seen Summer do this before most likely. He remined himself to attend the sparing sessions scheduled in order to remedy his lack of knowledge.

"Trying to show us up?" asked Irtanna with a mocking tone.

"Not at all," said Summer through telepathy and matched the Callidus' attitude. She was talking to Irtanna but all of them could hear her clearly. "I just didn't want to see you both get blown to bits."

"They are running," cut in Razuun, trying to keep the situation in mind.

That was when Vitalii was reminded that their immediate area was deserted as those remaining within the compound were attempting to escape. Team SILVER had broken them and now all they could hope for was to get enough distance for a chance to see the sunrise.

"You covered the entire perimeter?" asked Summer mentally.

"Just as you instructed me to."

Summer appeared to slow in the constant swirl of her current form. As if she were uncertain if she wanted to give the order or not. The disruption in her movements ceased as the flow of her petals returned to their normal pace.

"Do it."

Razuun brought out a trigger device and pressed the activation rune.

All around the compound was a series of explosions, Vitalii looked out and enhanced his vison thought he lenses of his mask. At the site of each explosion was a cloud of gas, each similar to the gas Razuun had contained within her glass globes.

The only difference with this was when the fleeing soldiers came into contact with it, they did not fall to the ground in agony. They continued to run until they faded into the darkness of the forest, never to be seen again.

"It didn't work," he said to Razuun.

The Venenum shook her head. "This one is not skin contact, it is inhaled. Once it's in your system your lungs will begin break down, it is meant to simulate the burning feeling of intense exertion."

"I asked her to choose something they wouldn't notice," said Summer. "If they saw their friends dropping dead they'd wait, and we'd need to hunt them down."

"It might be slower, but they will die. We don't need to worry about them anymore."

Vitalii nodded. "I see."

The cloud that was Summer's form began to compress itself. It formed a shape that was human in nature. Eventually, this shape gained definition, and then colour until the leader of Team SILVER stood among them once again.

"Been a long time since I had to hold myself like that in place so long," she said, stretching her arms above her head. "The techpriests won't be a problem."

"You killed them all?" asked Irtanna, surprise in her voice.

"There were only five besides the one riding the tank," shrugged the Huntress who then closed her eyes.

Vitalii did not know what she was doing, but he somehow felt it was psychic related. He had killed psykers before, but never had he worked alongside one. Their abilities had always unnerved him. Summer lacked that particular quality among them and for that he was grateful.

"There's one left," Summer said walking towards a still moving body.

The three assassins trailed behind her as the supposed corpse of a woman groaned and whimpered. The woman was slightly chubby and had a large patch of blood across her uniform. She lay on the ground face first as she clutched at the wound.

---

Summer pushed the woman over, bringing her face up. She was pale from blood loss and the pain was written all over her face. Those pain-filled eyes hardened into a glare of hatred once she saw them.

"Come to finish me off?" questioned the woman, who then tried to spit at Summer, but couldn't get anything out.

The look on Summer's face became one of pity and sadness. "That depends on what you have to say."

"I have nothing to say to you, lapdog of Praolz," hissed the woman. "The governor can take out this outpost, but the angels will have his head soon enough."

"We don't serve your governor," Summer corrected, kneeling down to the woman. "We serve the Imperium, and we've come to bring your world back into it."

The woman smirked. "Oh sure, you do. I'm sure those pomps at the Administratum Office paid you a pretty penny to do this."

"I'm trying to offer you a way out," protested Summer. "Tell me what you know, and I can pull some strings to have you spared. You'd be a free woman, no one will know your part in this mistake."

"Mistake!?" cried the woman. "You kill my friends, my commanders, and you call it a mistake!?"

"I take no pride I what I've done here," stated the Huntress in a neutral voice and gestured to the carnage around them. "But this is a mistake. You all being out here when you should be trying to hold this world together is a mistake."

The woman scoffed. "Yeah, you would say that. The Spited are no mistake, miss high and mighty. We are what happens when your governor doesn't have his people's back. If that's a mistake, then its on him, not us."

"I'm willing to bet the governor didn't set fire to your city. It would make no sense," said Summer, almost pleading for the woman to understand. If there was one consolation to be had, she wanted to be able to save at least one of them. At least one.

The woman let out a painful laugh. "Says the one who just burnt down the only home I've known since that city burned. Who says it needs to make sense? When you're that powerful you don't need sense."

"You're wasting your time," said Irtanna stepping up to her leader's side. "They've been recruiting people like her for months and this kind of resentment won't just go away."

Summer was quiet for a moment. The flames danced over her form, casting the image beneath the hood of her cloak in shadow as if to display her darkening mood.

Then without a word, she reached down to her belt and unsheathed the Misericordia. Irtanna placed a hand on Summer's shoulder.

"Let me," she said.

A pause, and then the Huntress handed the blade to the Callidus assassin, who then stepped over the woman.

"Realized I won't talk huh? At least I got that much," she chuckled somberly.

"Shauni," said Irtanna, causing the woman's expression to become one of surprise.

Irtanna pointed the blade over Shauni's heart. Her next words were spoken in a quiet voice. "Lorien really did see you as her friend."

The blade sank into Shauni's chest, and she let out a pain-filled gasp. Summer watched as the light slowly left the woman's eyes. She did not deserve to look away.

Pulling the blade free, Irtanna neatly cleaned it using Shauni's uniform and offered the Misericordia to Summer who took it without a word.

---

Back on the Silver Bullet, Lucia was still monitoring the vox traffic of Pralthax Prime. It had been a total of twenty-four hours, and the elimination of the outpost had caused a stir. Lucia had shaken the pot a little more by sending the local Adeptus Arbites Judge an anonymous tip on the location of their raid.

An investigation squad should be arriving via an Arvus Lighter within the hour, and they were in for quite the sight. Lucia had hinted at a schism within the ranks of the enemy, that should be enough to explain why the site looked like it had been through an engagement with orks.

This combined with the information provided by Irtanna, Lucia was able to pinpoint people of key interest within the ruling body of Pralthax.

"So, as it turns out, most of them are unaware of what is happening in the wilderness," said Lucia into the transmitter. "They know their problems are out there but haven't the foggiest idea where to look."

"Except for Hemril," said Irtanna, her voice only coming out of the small hailer in Lucia's terminal.

"Who is he again?" asked Summer, having recovered from a foul mood that had fallen on her after the operation was complete. "We have a name but no face or details."

"That I do know," said Lucia with a confident smile, even though no one was around to see it.

The screen on the terminal flashed green and a line sketch of a man with a thin gaunt face appeared on it. Text ran alongside the image, extracted via external hack to the planets noosphere network and cogitator records.

"Sending the information to you now," she said and with the tap of a rune, uploaded everything into the assassin's neural implants. "Galan Hemril. Formerly the leader of the planets PDF and now one of Governor Praolz's chief advisors."

"What the heck!?" exclaimed Summer. "Seriously, this guy was in charge of the local military? He looks like a breadstick."

Lucia stifled a laugh and did not question how her leader saw the image. She was fully aware thanks to a report by Inquisitor Greyfax that Summer was able to see through the eyes of others via her psychic powers. She was likely reviewing the information by seeing the feed given to one of the others. The tactical advantages that provided were not lost on the Vanus.

"Maybe but that is more due to his contraction of a genetic wasting disease. He was diagnosed with it three years ago and was forced to retire. He needs constant treatments to keep himself from breaking down."

"He did not take that very well I presume?" guessed Razuun.

"Evidence points to him holding a grudge, yes. It was Praolz who ordered his retirement despite protests. Hemril's record suggests that he is a tactician worth keeping around. Both in the political realm as well as military and he made it clear he preferred the latter."

A long sigh droned from the hailer in the terminal before Summer spoke. "Another revenge plot then? Just how many wars in this galaxy are about revenge?"

"It has most likely progressed beyond that," said Vitalii. "Personal interests are how such things begin but almost never where they end."

"Yes," said Irtanna. "Griel kept referring to Hemril's deal with angels. Have you received any information on that?"

"As it so happened, I poked at some of the local hegemony and woke the hornet's nest. Now that they know about the outpost you silenced, both loyal and traitorous factions were forced to open their mouths and I just had to listen in."

"Damn, you really are a spy master," complemented Summer.

"I prefer orchestrator of espionage," chuckled the Vanus.

"Did you find anything that can point us to these angels?" asked Summer. "Judging by the name, its pretty obvious who they are, but we need to be sure."

"I caught one such conversation an hour ago. Transmitting now."

Lucia interacted with the vox logs she had built up over the past twenty hours and pulled up the log she had deemed to be of vital import. Once the upload was complete, the conversation played in all their masks, and it played out on the bridge as well, so the Vanus was sure not to interrupt them.

"This is Minister Hemril," said a tired sounding voice, most would think he was just woken up early, but this was in fact his natural voice. Lucia had nearly a dozen logs of his voice at midday to compare it too. The years had become hard on him. "Who are you to wake me at this hour, do you not know I am a busy man and cannot afford whimsical disturbances."

"Hemril," came a low booming voice from the other end of the connection. This carried the weight of authority and the low tones of someone who had to practice controlling his temper. "Explain yourself."

"My-my lord!" gasped Hemril. "Pardon my insolence, I was not expecting the next report for…"

"Enough prostrations and excuses," growled the other voice. "Explain yourself now."

"Begging your pardon, lord, but what am I being asked to explain?"

"So, you do not even know?" hissed the voice with a rising anger behind it. "Then allow me to elucidate you. Forward Operating Base Epsilon went silent as of six hours ago. They failed to report in after five hails each spanning an hour between them. On the sixth attempt, a task force was sent to investigate. Do you want to know what they told me upon their return?"

A loud crash buzzed out from the hailer, resounding across the bridge of the Silver Bullet.

"Rubble and ruin!" snapped the voice. "The entire compound has been slaughtered!"

"Slaughtered?" asked Hemril, seeming to not believe it. "I do not understand. Each base is staffed by at least four companies' worth of soldiers. What do you mean slaughtered?"

"I mean they are all dead, human," said the voice, clearly not liking the fact he was being questioned. "Every one of them. Corpses were strewn across the surrounding forest as well. Not only that, but all the adepts we stationed there are dead as well, ripped to pieces. Their vehicles are in ruins!"

"And… and you found no sign of those responsible?" asked the minister, the danger of the situation becoming clear to him, not only of this unexpected flaw in his plan, but also of the other person in the conversation.

"That is why I am contacting you," said the voice coldly. "You are the only one in a position to know what the governor has been up to. Has he contacted any mercenary groups or given any orders?"

"N-no, not that I am aware of. The areas I suggest to him are far from you. Unless his militia are actively disobeying orders, they should not even get close."

"Then how do you explain the fact Epsilon looks like it was subjected to a siege!" roared the voice. "The communications hub was utterly destroyed! This was no mistake or lucky find by a patrol. This was planned!"

"I-I am sorry, lord, I do not know who is responsible. Praolz is none the wiser to your activities, I promise you."

There was a moment of pause accompanied by heavy breathing.

"You are sure he is unaware?"

"Most certainly," answered Hemril, having found his confidence and relief at the chance to safe his spine. "If he knew, he would consult me on what to do next. I doubt he knows who did this anymore than we do. If he knows it occurred at all."

"Hmm," the voice hummed to itself, a rumble within the hailer. "Make certain it stays that way and if you find the one's responsible, inform me immediately."

"Yes, Lord Kalarax."

"And heed me now, mortal" said Kalarex in a low, threatening voice. "If I find out you are lying to me, when my Warsmith arrives I will feed you to his maulerfiend."

The transmission cut and Summer wasted no time in speaking her mind.

"That was an Astartes. No doubt about it."

"It would have been a fairly easy guess," said Irtanna. "Got a better one?"

"He's an Iron Warrior. Luminary, would you be so kind as to peer review my thesis so Insider can feel better?"

"Glady," chuckled Lucia. "He made use a title, warsmith. That is a rank unique to the traitor legion known as the Iron Warriors. Now you likely saw a metallic skull emblem somewhere in the compound, yes."

"Correct," concurred Irtanna. "It was on their uniforms. Everyone had one."

"That is the symbol of the Forth Legion. It would appear that when the traitors arrived in system, they dropped off a force in the planet before moving to Tertius to properly prepare."

"Then we need to find them," said Summer. "They're the ones in charge here. No Chaos Space Marine will ever take orders from a normal human, ever."

"Then we find them and remove them," stated Vitalii. "The minister can be delt with later."

"Sounds like a plan. Can you track the source of that transmission?" asked Summer.

"Sending co-ordinates now," said Lucia, beginning the upload.

"We'll update you when we see them. Keep an ear open, Seeker out."

"Insider out."

"Ravage out."

"Vision out."

"Good hunting, Luminary out." said Lucia and proceeded to cut the connection.

The Vanus assassin sat alone for a moment as she processed the situation. Traitor Adeptus Astartes, she had not expected to confront them this early in the crusade. A formidable foe if there ever was one. Even a single squad was a dire threat to an execution force.

A contemplative frown formed on her lips as she considered the possible scenarios. Depending on the number of marines present, the Eversor may need to be deployed. An endeavor she would need to oversee personally.

However, the real question to ask was if the Eversor would be enough to even the odds? He was given the codename 'Equalizer' to symbolize that very purpose. To sway a fight in Team SILVER's favor.

But even then, one Eversor may not be enough if the number of Space Marines was too high.

Turning her focus to the security monitors placed throughout the ship, she sent an impulse to the Machine Spirit, instructing it to show her the stasis chamber holding the unreleased weapon of terror.

The Machine Spirit complied with the quiet purpose she had liked so much about it. The image on her monitor was that of a glowing glass container. It was a vertical cylinder filled to the brim with a glowing blue fluid. The glass of the cylinder was covered with purity seals and had a golden eagle's head mounted to top it off. Inside the cylinder was the assassin.

He was obscured by the fluid, but Lucia could already picture the grinning skull mask inside. All odds pointed to Epoch being released. The thought of the entire team barring her being in the field spawned a small sense of indignation within her. Despite her role, she did enjoy fieldwork when her presence was required. The thought of being the only one not participating was slightly upsetting.

However, she cast such concerns aside. Personal desires were a weight to be discarded within the Temples. Should they contradict the mission then they were unwanted.

Still, the thought of her team facing odds that even the monster on her monitor could not even out gave her pause. Like always, there had to be a contingency in place.

With a sign, she turned the monitor off and began forming a message to the governor. It was time to sow some discord in the ranks of the enemy. And to do that, she had to sow discord among those she was here to save.

Then she paused as she remembered her promise to her leader before she was sent down. There was one other member of their little crew that had to be supervised. With a pulse, the monitor came back to life.

When she saw what little Rain was doing, Lucia could not hold back a proud smile. She would need to show Summer when the Huntress got back.

---

Down on the planet below in the early morning, the sun's gentle rays gave warm light to the forest. The rest of Team SILVER were all perched among the treetops, they all hung among the high branches as they overlooked the monumental sight before them.

Unlike the previous outpost, this place was a genuine fortress. High walls surrounded it and gun emplacements covered every watchtower. At the front entrance was a towering gate with two large quad barreled cannon turrets mounted to either side of it. Behind the wall was a mesh of a manufactorum and a bunker. Large warehouse doorways pointed in each cardinal direction and trucks carrying materials to be processed were constantly flowing in and out.

"Bigger than the last one," commented Razuun.

"They have to be here," said Summer. "No one else on Pralthax could have designed and built something like this in the span of three months."

"You speak of them with such certainty. Why is that?" asked the Venenum.

"I fought them on Macragge," answered the Huntress. "They were only on the planet for a month but had turned whole towns into outposts filled with kill boxes and siege defenses."

Summer then pointed at the giant iron skull mounted above the front gate. "Besides, I think they reserve the right to put that on the front gate for themselves."

"I see one," said Irtanna, pointing to a giant figure marching along the ramparts of the gatehouse.

Each member of Team SILVER had the means to enhance their vision, all of them focused on the figure and it gained definition before their eyes. A giant clad in gunmetal ceramite with hazard stripes splashed across his pauldron walked along the rampart with bolter in hand. His steps were measured and disciplined, exactly what you would expect from a Space Marine. When he turned, the other pauldron was revealed, and it carried the same iron skull as the gate below him.

"There's our proof they are here," said Summer. "Now we just need to know if this is a token force or not."

Vitalii raised two fingers to his spy mask and switched the settings to thermal. The walls of the facility turned transparent, and he saw the world as only patches of moving red and orange lights in the distance. Most of it was concentrated within the production lines inside the manufactorum.

There were hundreds of heat signatures, but few were close enough to a heat source to be indistinct. Shapes and outlines became clear to him as he zoomed in closer. Then he saw them.

"Targets located," he said, capturing the attention of his associates.

"How many are there?" asked Summer hastily.

"Confirming," he replied as he focused his attention on and around what looked like the command bunker at the precipice of the structure.

The figures of the Astartes towered over the baseline humans around them, unless they stood by one of the ore crucibles or processing machines, it was easy to tell them apart. His mask marked each confirmed marine as his pupils ran over them, a counter on the side of his vision slowly rose in count alongside his inspection. They were scattered across the facility, some in the manufactorum, some in the barracks and some patrolling the grounds behind the walls.

When he was done, he deactivated the thermal vision and turned to his leader. "Two hundred and five."

Summer's jaw fell open. The other two assassins stared at him.

"You are certain?" asked Razuun, her causal tone gone from her voice.

"Those are the ones I was able to confirm. There may be more that I was unable to see due to the high heat."

"Lovely," sighed Irtanna.

"That's two full companies," muttered Summer, her mind trying to find a way around this.

After a moment of silence, the Huntress began to calm. Her eyes ran over the facility. "It's too high. We can't take on that many by ourselves."

"We could orchestrate as assault by the PDF to create a diversion," suggested the Callidus.

Summer shook her head as the leaves from the tree she hung from fell past her black and red hair. "That will take too long. We're already on day three and it will take them at least a full day to decide whether or not to send any troops at all."

The Huntress recalled Ironwood's many complaints about Atlas's bureaucracy. How, in his early career, a novel's worth of documents had to be signed to approve of any military operation.

"Besides, if we do that, this place will be even more fortified by the time they get here," she said with disapproval. "They already know we're sneaking around, but if we let the governor know where this place is, then they'll know we've found them."

"Hemril won't hesitate to inform them and then approaching the compound will be even more difficult," summarized Vitalii.

"Not to mention all the people they send here will be slaughtered," thought Summer, but she knew such reasoning was less important to the people around her. The mission was what mattered, so she spoke to them in a way that they understood. The loss of life was not important if it was necessary, hence why she countered any sort of plan with the drawbacks.

Summer nodded. "We need to take them out before they form a plan. If there is one thing I have learned by now, it's to never underestimate a Space Marine."

She looked at the marine patrolling the gate. He was a weapon bred and trained to kill, same as the assassins, the difference was that he could absorb more punishment than any of them. If it came to the waiting game, they would lose.

Sure, they could wait until Guilliman arrived with the fleet, but that meant more cities could end up in flames and more deaths would mount.

That was something she refused to accept.

"We need to hit them today," she said with certainty. "And it needs to be with everything we've got."

"Wouldn't it be better to wait until nightfall like before?" queried the Callidus assassin. "We'd be outnumbered and against enemies who are far superior to the mobs from before."

"That would help them rather than us," said Vitalii with the air of the experienced veteran he was. "Their senses can pierce darkness with complete clarity. We would need to rely on our gear to maintain even visibility with them."

"So, we have almost no meaningful time to prepare, we're outnumbered and every one of our targets are transhuman super soldiers," Razuun listed everything off and Summer detected a sense of excited anticipation in her clipped voice once again.

The visored skull mask turned to Summer; her optical lenses almost appeared to glimmer at the thought. "So, my dear leader, how are we going to dismantle this beast?"

Summer looked to the other two members of her team. Vitalii nodded his approval while Irtanna gave a thumbs up, ever supportive since the day they first met in the Chapel of Saint Keeler.

Emotions long buried welled up inside the Huntress as the image of her old team flashed before her eyes, superimposed over the current one standing before her. They weren't the best, but they had their moments. Those treasured instances where they somehow managed to achieve a sort of harmony that dissipated all their flaws and turned them into a force to be reckoned with. A moment, she realized, that was occurring with her new teammates.

The emotion faded, replaced with the excitement she knew the rest of them felt as well, and the excitement created an electric current inside her.

Grinning, Summer stated the only option that would be expected of her. "We destroy it. All of it."

---

Lucia walked through the halls of the Silver Bullet, a bit of haste in her step. Anticipation animated her gait as she made her way to the stasis chambers. When she had received the word that all of Team SILVER would be deploying for the attack, she simply did not want to remain on the bridge any longer than she had to. The trajectory was set for the insertion pods, and the retrieval procedure was ready to be enacted once the operation had concluded.

Lucia walked in her own specialized combat gear. Unlike the other Temples, the Vanus Temple had no strict set of rules when it came to the assortment of weaponry their assassins used. This was left to each assassin to decide.

From a glance, she would almost look to be barren of weaponry barring a single pistol strapped to her thigh. It was an energy-based weapon of unknown origin and make like many of the weapons sanctioned by the Sigillite during the creation of the Assassinorum. Lucia could find no records even hinting at its origin, but its destructive capabilities were without question.

Her appearance had changed as well. Now she wore a skull mask, and unlike the Venenum or the Eversor she was about to visit, this mask lacked a lower jaw and the teeth were shaved to appear as razors. One eye resembled the oculus lenses that the adepts of Mars frequented, while the other was the match of the mechanical eyes on Razuun's helm. The latter was a scanner, while the former was a projector, and both glowed a menacing shade of red.

Draped over her helm was a hood made out of the same material as her suit. A modified version of the synskin bodyglove tailored for the cybernetically enhanced bodies of the Vanus assassins. Subtle lines of arcane power ran throughout her frame, feeding all her hidden systems. While she bore the figure of a lithe and athletic woman, she carried a small arsenal within her very limbs.

Finally, a servo-skull followed close behind her. Its appearance appropriately matched her own.

Trailing the Vanus assassin were a pair of the ship's specialized robed servitors. Each of them carried an ornate cast in their arms as they moved behind her in silence.

Stepping through a side door in the almost featureless passages of the ship, she found herself in a dark room. The chamber resembled a laboratory more than a domicile for one of the most dangerous passengers on the ship. Carefully organized cabinets lined the walls, built into them for an event such as the formation of an execution force. Within these cabinets were vials, flasks, and ampules containing a vast assortment of drugs and chemical compounds that she could not even begin to guess at. All of them were visible behind thick sheets of armorglass, a reasonable precaution considering who they were intended to be used on.

In the center of the room was the stasis chamber. The light blue glow of the liquid inside cast the room in an eerie ghost light. The effect gave Lucia the impression she was about to unleash some sort of malevolent spirit.

Beside the chamber was another servitor, this one was robed like the rest but carried an arm augmentation that carried a number of syringes. Each carried a different solution within it according to her scanning eye.

This servitor was programmed with the exact protocols and rites needed to rouse the stasis chamber's occupant without triggering a meltdown or a chemical induced frenzy. The Eversor Temple would never allow another assassin to know such things as they guarded their secrets jealously.

Not that Lucia wanted to know what sort of drugs were being pumped into their operatives anyway.

She stopped about three meters away from the stasis chamber. The faint image of the Eversor was visible through the opaque fluid. Looking at the servitor assigned to this place she uttered a single command, her voice now having the same choppy effect as Razuun.

"Wake him."

"Compliance," droned the servitor.

The thrall disappeared behind the tank and a warning chime rang throughout the room. Then the tank hissed with decompression, and loud bubbling began to sound from within it. As the hiss died away, the tank began to drain. The fluid dropped revealing the image of the murderer within.

The skull mask fully encased his head, teeth splayed in a perpetual devil's grin. Encasing his body was another version of the synskin bodyglove, and over that was the specialized combat harness equipped with both a vox hailer for spreading terror over the left breast and a target designator above his right shoulder. Over his left hand was the feared Neuro Gauntlet, its wicked barbs promising not just the destruction of bodily tissue but a swift and agonizing end with just a touch.

As more air touched the body of the Eversor, the assassin stirred. Lucia flexed her muscles and prepped her weapons in the event that she would need to defend herself.

Once the tank was empty, the Eversor let out a grunt, an animalistic noise from the most base and unrefined portion of the human brain. The servitor returned and held a pair of vials with threaded caps sealing the chemicals within.

All glass windows of the stasis chamber opened, and the servitor moved behind the Eversor to insert the vials into sockets splayed across the upper portion of his body.

For a moment, as the chemicals were pumped into his body, the Eversor did not react. Then his head raised, the eyes of that skull mask stared straight at Lucia.

"Who are you?" said the Eversor, his voice unnaturally calm, the clear sign of the drugs soothing effect on him.

Lucia did not get to answer as he tilted his head and spoke again. "You're not the one I was told to follow."

His accent had an odd sing-song quality, with a rise and dip in pitch. Lucia noted that she had heard it somewhere before but could not place it. "I am aware of that, Epoch, I am Lucia of the Vanus Temple and you are needed."

Epoch scanned the room, likely seeing it for the first time and comparing it with other rooms just like it. "Epoch? Yes, that is my name."

With calm and decisive steps, he exited the chamber, his personal servitor trailing close behind to monitor his dosages. He stepped up to Lucia and she saw him flexing his limbs with slight twitches between each pause of movement. Even with a calming agent added to the cocktail circulating through him, he was still a ticking time bomb.

"What's the mission, Vanus? Where is my pack leader?"

"She is down on the planet below. We're being deployed together."

"What is my target?"

"Astartes, members of the Fourth Traitor Legion, the Iron Warriors."

Epoch tilted his head and felt the neural upload of information Lucia was sending him. Due to their drug addled minds, it was deemed necessary to incorporate a neural uplink to send information directly to the brain. This way they could still identify their targets even when in the middle of a killing frenzy.

This much she knew just by scanning his medical records of when he arrived on the Bullet.

A slight chuckle escaped him. "Space Marines? Looks like fun."

"I relate with your enthusiasm," she said with a smile beneath her mask as she was sure he was smiling beneath that row of teeth as well.

Stepping back, she sent an impulse command to the servitors behind her.

"Open."

In unison, they unlatched the cases they carried, unveiling their contents. In one was a modified bolt pistol, a dual action variant known as the Executioner Pistol. It could launch the same forms of ammunition that were available to all other bolter types, but what made this pistol special was the needler function beneath the bolt shell barrel. A cylinder chamber with a large syringe sat there prepped and ready for use. The lethal toxins within ready to deliver destruction to any living system they came into contact with. Beside the pistol were several bolt magazines as well as needler canisters, because an Eversor never has enough ammunition.

In the second case there was a menacing one-sided power sword with a serrated back of serreted razor teeth. This blade appeared to match the rare weapon, but it had one subtle but deadly difference. Unlike the more common variants found among other Imperial forces across the Imperium, the Eversor assassin's power sword and a superdense core running along the blade. This tripled the weight of the weapon compared to another of comparable size. In the hands of one capable of wielding such a thing without strain, the amount of damage it could do equated to a demolition tool rather than a blade.

Inside the case along with the sword was a bandolier of krak grenades.

Epoch approached the pistol without hesitation, his hands latching onto the case as he eyed the weapon. His fingers tapped the case with the excitement of a child seeing his favorite toy.

"I believe you will need these," said Lucia.

Epoch did not listen as he ogled the pistol. "Hmm, hello little thing. Yes, I know it has been too long. No, I don't know how long it has been since I last fired you but that doesn't matter now. Even a minute is too long."

He then looked at his power sword and he rushed up to it, the servitor with his stims made sure to stay where it could apply calming agents if needed.

"And you, my pretty," he said his voice becoming slightly more manic. "Today is going to be a fun day, yes, it is."

He snatched the sword and slid over his shoulder and into the sheath built into his combat harness. Next was the bandolier, he wasted no time in securing it around his waist. The pistol and spare ammunition followed.

There he stood, ready to kill and judging by the increased amount of twitching across his body, the calming agent was about to wear off and the killing rage would kick in. Building within his skull until he was unable to think of anything other than release through murder.

"Ready?"

"Show me the targets," he said his voice distorting into a mixture of a growl and a hiss.

---

Lord Kalarax oversaw the operations of the Spiteful Foundry. The strategium was fully operational and the defenses were nearing completion. He watched the hololith of the base with a strain upon his brow so intense that the baseline humans around him would think that his glare could melt adamantium.

His focus was absolute to the exclusion of everything else. This was his mission given to him by the Warsmith himself. Garphonicus, and his monster, Desicratu were stationed on Pralthax Secundus and should be in the midst of overthrowing the planetary authority.

The plan was simple, jump in system and engage the local defense fleet around Pralthax Prime, during the conflict, he and his company were dropped to the surface with orders to prepare for the return of the Warsmith.

The orders were very precise; to begin construction of a forward operating base within Imperial Territory and leave what useful infrastructure remained intact. That also came with the warning not to waste any of the warriors under his command. That meant no full-on assault on the planetary capital.

While many claim that a mere hundred Space Marines are enough to conquer a star system, this is an exaggeration to an extent. While a full company or even single squads of Astartes have the potential to slaughter thousands of humans, that is purely based on the circumstances of the situation. Namely the Space Marines need to be fully supplied and with reserves to spare. Not to mention all the support elements that come with that, such as a ship in orbit or a fully functional base, the latter of which only reached a satisfactory level of productivity a week prior to the incident at Epsilon.

In conclusion, yes, his company 'could' have conquered this world by now but then there would be nothing left for the Warsmith. furthermore, while he had absolute confidence for the durability of his warriors, he was no Death Guard. He was not going to march up to the capital and storm it with just bolters and blades like the accursed Black Templars.

They would exhaust their ammunition within the first week of the conflict. Kalarax knew all this and so did the Warsmith, that was why he was told to prepare and cripple the current Loyalist power.

The deal with Hemril was an alliance of convenience. The deal was that if Hemril was useful to him then they would work to cure his illness and grant him command of the resulting slave population once the planet was conquered. Personally, Kalarax would prefer just to make these fragile mortals slaves right now and crush Hemril's neck as it would spare him the effort later.

When the fleet returned from the conflict on Tertius, the main bastion of military might in the sector, then Hemril would be instructed to assassinate the governor. After that, he would open the gates for Kalarax and the Iron Warriors.

And it was all coming along nicely, at least until Epsilon.

That was something he had not anticipated, but he was nothing if not quick to rectify. Within the hour he would have his warriors formed into kill teams and they would roam the forest to find whoever did this. Only his Iron Warriors could be trusted for this as whomever destroyed Epsilon was above the mortal weaklings around him.

Once found, they would die, ground into the dirt as they should. As should all who would dare countermand the clear superiority of the Iron Warriors.

He just had to fix this, he needed to make sure it was all prepared and soon. He had no Astropaths and the governor had silenced the choir in the capital, so even Hemril had no idea what was happening in the rest of the system.

But Kalarax was confident in his Warsmith. Thanks to Abaddon, the Imperium was reeling with the psychic shock the destruction of Cadia caused. It was the perfect time to burn the corpse emperor's realm.

Yes, the Warsmith would return soon and then this whole chore would be over. The Imperium had only recently reignited their accursed Warp beacon somehow, they would take months or even years just to reacquaint themselves with the current state of the galaxy. It would take far longer than that for them to mount a counter offensive with loyalist Astartes and by then they would be ready.

Alarms screamed to life in the strategium, sending the mortals stationed around it into a sudden panic for a moment.

Kalarax growled as he was forced to address this. Slamming his ceramite clad fist on the hololith, he turned away and shouted.

"What is happening?"

The mortals in the room flinched at his voice, all of them were defectors of the local planetary defense force and thus never underwent true war. Spineless weaklings.

"L-lord," greeted the chief logistician, she stood stiff as a corpse before him with a dataslate in hand.

"Do not make me repeat myself a third time. What is happening?"

"An-an intruder, Lord Kalarax," answered the woman with a stutter. "In the muster yard."

Kalarax narrowed his thick brow even further, causing the woman to shake.

"Show me now," he commanded turning to the hololith.

The display before him was one of the entire foundry, the three dimensional image focused in on the area just behind the front gate. There he saw a sight he might have found amusing, if it were not a direct impediment to his mission.

A cloaked woman was in the middle of dismantling the bad joke that was the guard forces patrolling the gate. The never-ending drills he had put them through made them somewhat usable in his opinion, but when compared to the standards set upon them by their Primarch, the mortals would have all been executed for failure.

The woman was unarmored and wielded a strange spear that she used to not only decimate the squads sent at her but also intercept their shots with the body of her weapon. Kalarax could not help but respect such a warrior, even if he was going to kill her.

Then the image shifted as she ran across the courtyard. Kalarax grit his teeth at the sight of one of his Iron Warriors laying decapitated in the dirt.

"By the Throne," said the logistician beside him.

It was likely out of habit, but Kalarax did not care. He reached out and took her skull in his hand. Then he squeezed, crushing her cranium with the ease of a bloated sack. He did not so much as glance her way as the dead logistician fell headless to the floor.

Kalarax did not take his eyes off the projection as the woman slaughtered more of the mortals and came into combat with another Iron Warrior. She danced around him with a serpent's grace. Always just out of reach of the Astartes, until his brother overcommitted and got too close to the spear's tip. That was when Kalarax realized it must be a power weapon as it punched through the armor of the Iron Warror's helm. The woman then withdrew her weapon and hurled herself at the nearest group of mortals while the Astartes fell to the dirt, lifeless and disgraced.

Then it came to him, the pieces falling into pace as easily as would his aim with a bolter. This woman was among those responsible for what happened to Epsilon. That they had not only located his foundry so soon, but had the confidence to attack it in open daylight was galling. He had spent months preparing for this and now this woman was undermining everything.

There was only one appropriate way to respond.

"I want all Iron Warriors at the muster now," he growled, his voice the rumble of an active volcano yet to erupt.

Reaching out to his axe which rested at the side of the projector, he thumbed the activation stud, and the disruption field crackled to life, eager for violence.

---

Kalarax marched with his brothers through the foundry, a trio score of them following in formation behind him. This would be considered overkill, but he wanted a real audience to witness this mortal's death. Examples would be made for allowing her to breach the defenses but for now, the intruder herself was the goal.

They walked past assembly lines and yet unfinished tanks of several marks he did not care to take note of at this moment. His visor had already noted five Astartes dead already.

Five. Five.

This mortal woman had killed five warriors of the Astartes and did so within less than half an hour. Kalarax would not have thought it possible had he not seen the holo with his own eyes. Did he doubt he could kill her? Of course not. Those who faced her were weak and they paid for their weakness.

"From iron cometh strength!" he bellowed to his brothers who followed his words. They were as bored as he was, but a wise leader uses unfortunate occurrences for unexpected gains.

"From strength cometh will! From will cometh faith! From faith cometh honor! From honor cometh iron!"

They chanted the Unbreakable Litany and Kalarax felt his blood rise at the idea of a proper fight, even if it was just for him.

"From iron cometh strength! From strength cometh will! From will cometh faith! From faith cometh honor! From honor cometh iron!"

To the outside observer it might have looked like he was overreacting, but he was no fool, he knew this woman was not here alone. The massive shutter gates to the foundry lifted up as they drew closer.

The muster yard was a mess of dismembered corpses and she was there standing in the middle of it all. Another Iron Warrior was confronting her, blasting away with his bolter. She did not intercept these as she had done with the autogun rounds. Rather she dodged them, each one just millimeters off the mark, missing her small frame.

The Iron Warriors behind Kalarax raised their bolters to open fire but he raised a hand to stop them. The woman in the white cloak closed the distance between her and the Astartes facing her, with impressive speed, she plunged her spear into his chest and used the momentum of her charge to bear him to the ground. She then repeatedly stabbed at the Iron Warrior until he went silent.

When she was finished, that was when she turned her hooded head towards him. Silver irises shone from beneath the shadow of her hood.

"You're really slow, you know that," said a feminine voice from seemingly nowhere.

Kalarax did not react as he had been around captured psykers enough to recognize what had just happened. Telepathy; the woman was a witch. That explained how she was able to perform such superhuman feats with no visible enhancements.

Despite being faced with over sixty Space Marines armed with weaponry that could turn her body to pulp, she did not cower or flee. Rather, she stood her ground and raised her weapon. The tip of her spear was pointed at him, a sign of challenge.

"You're going to pay for all the lives you've ruined, right here and now," declared the woman without so much as a twitch from her mouth.

Kalarax bared his teeth in a savage grin. A psyker, and a powerful one at that given her lack of mutations. He wondered what branch of the Imperium she came from, perhaps an inquisitor or at least an agent of one. Now that was an enemy worth fighting. No, these worthless mortals.

Kalarax stepped forth to accept the challenge, so focused was he on the psyker woman, on the fight that she promised him, that he failed to notice the reflection coming from the rampart to his far left. By the time he did notice, all he could do was process the bullet flying for his face before his skull exploded in a shower of blood, bone and grey matter.

---

As the Chaos Lord went down, Summer heard Vitalii calmly declare over the vox. "Kill shot."

It only took a second for the rest of the Space Marines crowding the door to snap their bolters up and open fire. Summer activated Crimson Cloud and became a swarm of petals, the bolts passed harmlessly thought her as she made her retreat back towards the ramparts.

She did not make for the stairs, rather she went directly to the wall itself. Using the physics defying properties of her semblance, she changed her trajectory upon imminent impact with the barrier by ninety degrees, sending her soaring straight up the large wall.

The Iron Warriors did not halt their fire and bolt shells hammered against the structure as she made her climb. After she passed over the top, her form coalesced in a swirl of motion, reforming into her human body and landing with a crouch behind the steel rampart. The Iron Warriors were kind enough to design the barrier portion of their upper wall to shield both sides.

"I think you made them angry," voxed Irtanna.

"What gave you that impression, the storm of metal flying at me!" shouted the Huntress.

"I wonder what compels the Astartes not to wear their helmets," said Razuun as the rampart shook from the sheer number of bolter fire. "I mean, you are just begging for someone like our dear Vindicare to crack them between the eyes."

"Codenames," hissed Summer at the breaking of the rule she had made. No mention of their real names or their professions when in the field.

"Right, sorry."

"It would have made no difference," commented Vitalii. "That was a turbo-penetrator. Even a dreadnought's armor would give way."

"But he would have at least looked more competent as he died," said Razuun.

"Enough jabber," ordered Summer swapping her magazine to Air Shock rounds. "Get ready."

The rain of bullets continued on until finally it slowed. The Astartes were beginning to reload. "Now!"

On their leader's command, both the Callidus and Venenum assassins fell upon the Iron Warriors from above. Both of them impaling a Space Marine with their blades before vaulting over the crowd and into the foundry behind them. Having drawn more Astartes blood, the pair had caught the ire of many in the enemy ranks.

As the pair disappeared into the mess that was their manufactorum, at least a third of the Iron Warriors gave chase.

"Less than we hoped," groaned Summer as she stood tall, giving them a clear view that she was unharmed. She even rubbed salt in the wound by pulling down one of her eyelids and sticking out her tongue in a childish manner.

Most of the armored giants charged at the Huntress, their intent being to climb up to her and rend her apart as was the subconscious preference for most Space Marines. The rest maintained their discipline and resumed their fire.

Ducking behind her cover again, she waited for them to get to her. The intensity of the moment was sharpening her focus. One of her greatest ambitions in terms of combat effectiveness was to achieve a sort of battle focus her mother had taught her about. The key to this flow state was to give oneself over to the battle completely and without reservation. More often than not, she felt she was closer to achieving it when she fought against something as dangerous as an Astartes.

The first of them reached the top of the wall and ran for her, a chainaxe revving in his hands. Summer pulled Ivory's trigger and launched herself forward. The marine brought the axe down and bit into the floor while Summer slid between his legs and cut open his left leg. Sparks and blood rained as the marine grunted in pain. As he turned to face her, Summer brought her Ivory's blade down on his weapon arm, severing it at the elbow.

She then vaulted over the marine as a second Iron Warrior crashed a power maul down where she was standing, the impact warped the metal flooring they stood on. Landing behind the first marine, she brought Ivory's barrel up against his power pack and fired an Air Shock round into him. Due to the pain of his injured leg and severed arm, he failed to form a solid foundation of balance before the blast threw him into his comrade.

Both marines tumbled to the floor as a third and fourth reached the top of the wall. Summer taunted them more with raspberries and a childish dance. "Nah nah nah nah nah! You're too slow! No wonder the Imperial Fists have the better primarch!"

Her words stoked the expected amount of anger. Guilliman had told her of Rogal Dorn's rivalry with the Iron Warrior's Primarch, Perturabo. This sent the marines into a rage as they scrambled to get at her, too bad for them that the rampart was only designed for three of them at abreast. This left the two on the ground to be trampled by the newcomers.

The first to reach her took a swipe with a vicious looking chainsword, Summer backflipped away and perched on the outer edge of the wall, the extra height brought her eye to eye with the marine. The mockery was gone from her face, replaced by pure focus as he came at her again. He swiped and slashed at her, but she continued to back away as she poked at his armor. With a well-timed sweep as a diversion, he managed to get close enough to grab her cloak, but that left him exposed to a thrust to the gorget. He did not release her cloak despite this and in a last act of spite, he hurled her over the rampart before he fell to the floor to choke on his own blood.

Summer quickly managed to right herself in mid-air before firing an Air Shock at the ground, weakening her inertia enough for her to land safely on her feet. Breathing hard, she checked her cloak to see if it was undamaged. Thankfully her aura appeared to keep it from being torn.

Looking up, she saw she was now back in the open space of the courtyard and was completely surrounded by Chaos Space Marines. She muttered a quiet curse to herself, forgetting just how much punishment one of these guys can take before they go down had put her in a bad spot.

Seeing their opportunity, they aimed their bolters and let loose another volley. Her body dissipated into a swarm of petals on instinct as she sought an escape. Surging through the crowd of marines, she sharpened her petals into mono-thin razors and began cutting away at their armor as she passed.

By the time she was free, many were left with holes in their armor and clotting wounds in their flesh.

Hiding behind a chimera, its human crew having long since fled from the gathering of their giant overlords, she reformed her body and spoke into her mircro-bead.

"Luminary? Are you inbound?"

"We've broken atmosphere, Seeker. ETA one minute."

Summer gave a nervous chuckle as the revving of chainblades and the pounding of armored boots drew closer. "No rush."

A shot rang out above her and the body of an Iron Warrior fell flat next to her; his helmet blown open.

"Move," came Vitalii's voice as another shot rang out.

Another marine jumped the chimera while two more circled around the sides. A shot from Ivory sent her soaring away from the blast of their boltguns. She sprinted away after landing, and they continued to send bolt shells her way. Despite her speed, they managed to score grazing hits on her. Normally that would be nothing, but each shell was so big that they equated to anti-tank dust shells on Remnant. Add in the explosive aspect of their design and glancing it would be enough to kill an auraless person.

Her aura flared as it absorbed most the force of the mass reactive shells. Another marine's head exploded, and this made the other two pause. Apparently, they thought she was the one landing those fatal shots.

Summer wasted no time fleeing to a truck containing a mass of stone and steel scrape on massive treads. Shots exploded off the body of the truck as the Huntress took cover behind it. Glancing around the corner, she saw a dozen or more of the giant super soldiers charging her way.

The small crowd of Iron Warriors stopped and looked to the sky as a shrieking noise eclipsed even the combined sound of their bolters. Summer looked up as well and to her relief, she saw a pair of blazing contrails falling directly towards the manufactorum.

Seeing her chance, she scattered into the Crimson Cloud and charged the Iron Warriors before her. She ripped into them, sending them into what passed as a panic for Space Marines. They deduced that she could not disperse her cloud too much, so they divided.

Sadly, for them, they underestimated just how fast she was like this. Picking a target, she charged straight at him and proceeded to shred. As she held the attention of the marines, the two pods landed by the towering front gates, the doors of one being kicked open while the other was allowed to release on its own.

---

Epoch sent the door to his pod flying with a kick from both legs before he leapt into the battle beyond. His mind was aflame with the killing frenzy. He needed to kill; he needed to kill. The calm he had felt on the ship had long passed and he retrained himself from attacking the servitors as he mounted his insertion pod. Oh, the agony of waiting when he was promised a target. Why did he tolerate the calmness those drugs imposed on him again? He forgot, as he always did, and he did not care.

His mask's sensors took in the environment and those inhabiting it. There were Space Marines here and more were coming from around the facility, running up staircases to the ramparts above or straight into the storm of battle. They were shooting at some sort of sentient cloud of knives. Not that the latter thing mattered.

"Targets sighted," he mumbled half consciously to himself as his neural implants processed what he saw. Then he felt that rush, the welcome sting of the frenzon stims coursing through his bloodstream and into his muscles and brain. The drugs meant to empower him even further beyond his fellow assassins when he was within sight of his prey.

"ERADICATE!" he shrieked and ran headlong into the melee.

His first kill was that of a metal clad marine who was in the midst of turning to face him. Epoch whipped out his Executioner and fired, his shots were wild but powerful. The smaller bolt rounds modified for higher explosive yield at the expense of not penetrating their target. Some missed but most landed, crashing against the marine's upper torso, left thigh and right knee. Staggered by the barrage, the marine failed to raise his bolter again as the skull faced monster closed in. Retaliation on the brain, he whipped out his hand in a mighty right hook, only to be caught on the sleek talons of Epoch's Neuro-Gauntlet.

The blades of the sinister weapon cut clean through the Iron Warrior's armor and flesh and dispensed their insidious payload. Even the Astarte's advanced biology was helpless before the neurotoxin those blades pumped into his system. Ceramite fingers ceased up, then the arm and then the rest of his body all the while he growled indignantly at such an end.

Not patient enough to wait for the toxin to finish its work, Epoch ripped his gauntlet free and then rammed it into the marine's face. He tore the helm apart and left the Iron Warrior's face a mangled ruin. A wave of relief filled the Eversor as his rewired brain processed his murder. There was no peace for one such as him, only the satisfaction of fulfilling his function.

With a mad laugh, he ran further into the carnage. The marines were noticing him now and they took in the threat he posed to them. While many focused on the strange cloud, the rest turned to take aim at him. Their bolters were leveled, and their aim was true, but as had always happened when his kind fought Astartes, they underestimated him. The bolts were quick, but Epoch was quicker. His help took in every angel and his neural uplink told him which would hit him and which would go wide. There was no finesse in his dodges, nor was there much deliberation. His was simply the natural instinct to avoid harm aided by a lack of fear and the enhancements of his Temple. The movements he had to avoid the bolts would look basic and almost comical were he not so terrifyingly fast.

Pulling his power sword free, he closed in on another marine. This one was smarter than the last, having brought up a combat knife, the equal in size to the power blade. The Iron Warrior was aware of the reputation of the Eversor Temple it seemed, as he put in enough force to stop Epoch's opening sweep.

The Eversor pulled back, reversed his grip and lashed out with his talons. The marine stepped back and meant to raise his bolter, but Epoch had used the slash to place his forefoot in a position for a mighty bound. This threw him at the marine where he brought the sword point down on black neck seal.

The Iron Warrior stumbled back and tried to pull the blade free, but the serrated teeth on the back side pulled and tore at his flesh. Epoch wasted no time in disemboweling the marine and pulling his sword free once the traitor was dead.

"Traitors…" he drooled the word, venom tinged with a drunken man's rage.

As he continued to kill, the Iron Warriors began to reorganize, their earlier overconfidence forgotten and their true might being brough to the fore. They formed into segmented firing lines, alternating fire to keep a constant barrage of shells firing upon the foe.

This forced Epoch to take cover. While he was willing to die to kill his target, he was not going to make his end a waste. He hid behind an overturned truck which had spilled a large supply of scrap metal on the other side.

As his drug addled mind raced with ways to close the distance. Something crept up behind him.

"Equalizer," said a female voice he had not heard before but registered with his neural implants.

Whipping around he saw a woman in a white cloak and black corset and skirt. His mind screamed to attack but his implants countermanded this desire with ingrained directives. Promising him that this kill would leave him with no relief from his desire for murder. Then the information came through.

"Leader," he mumbled, just audible above the barrage on their position.

A name came to him through the information provided to his implants before his assignment to the ship above.

Summer Rose.

Pack Leader.

Death unacceptable.

Obey kill orders above all others.

"Are you Epoch?" asked Summer with a strange soft frown on her face that the Eversor did not recognize.

It took him a second to register the question and another to find the answer. He had forgotten his name again. It happened so often he never noticed until someone pointed it out.

"Uhuh," he quickly nodded.

"Are you going to listen to me or are you just going to rampage?" she asked a note of tension in her voice.

"I will listen," he answered in a hurried manner and rapid nod of the head. The drugs now running through him would not allow calmness of any sort, no matter what his implants tried to impose.

The strange look went away, and her face hardened. "Repeat the mission to me, now."

Epoch felt a quick buzz in his skull as the order was processed.

"Kill the Space Marines," he replied with an agitated gait.

"And evacuate when I tell you to, do you understand?"

The Eversor felt the neural implants process the orders and transmit them to his fumbling mind. He needed to kill, that would clear the murder haze. Yet, the information came in clear.

"Yes," he answered in an excitable tone, as if the answer would free him of this sudden mental shackling.

The woman took Epoch's arm and both of them began to glow. She shone a brilliant white while he glowed a fiery orange. Then the world became a maelstrom of color and shapes. Somehow, he was in a state of existence that he could not comprehend.

When everything felt right again, he was on the rampart. Summer was still holding his arm, and that glow was still covering his body. He had no idea what it was but there was no negative feedback or anything else he would associate as a threat coming from it, so he ignored it.

Summer released him and pointed down the rampart. Following her direction, he saw a trio of Iron Warriors repositioning themselves further down.

"Do what you are made to do," she said, and Epoch was so thrilled at being freed from his leash that he did not note the sadness in her voice.

With a wild cry, he charged along the rampart and straight towards the Iron Warriors. The path was narrower, providing him with less room to maneuver. Bolts flew towards him and one slammed him in the chest.

The impact threw him back to land face first to the ground and left him prone. His body glowing with the faint orange light.

He lay there, motionless until one of the Iron Warriors approached him. Once the Astartes was less than a foot away, the Eversor sprang to life once more and tore into the marine's arm. The remaining two raised their bolters to intervene, even if that meant shooting their comrade, but that failed when the helmet of one exploded.

Epoch did not see the assistance, nor would he have cared beyond being angered at the robbery of a potential kill. As he continued his slaughter, he did not notice the lack of damage upon his person. Nor did he remember his leader to whom he was programmed to obey. Not until the killing was done or new orders came would he remember.

For that was the lot of an Eversor. The only existence that mattered was the now and the now always consisted of blood and slaughter. Once he was done with the Chaos Space Marines on the ramparts, he leapt over the side and landed with a crash. They were all around him now, a cornucopia of targets and he welcomed them all.

---

Summer fell down the wall while scattered as a cloud of petals. After unlocking Epoch's aura, she made a search for the last member of her team who was hiding close by. The Eversor lived up to his name and the Iron Warriors appeared to recognize that ginning mask as they were quick to begin switching their focus from her to him once he announced himself.

Not that she was complaining. She was the Huntress, not a warrior who sought the spotlight. Still, she was not expecting him to be this damaged when Lucia explained everything to her. When she peered inside his mind it was so much worse than she thought.

He was a broken soul, broken in a way that would make a slave feel blessed. A person who cannot be called a person anymore. A twisted thing made only to kill and feel nothing beyond that.

Pushing the thoughts of such a tragic fate out of her mind, she surged across the courtyard. Bolt rounds flew through her form as she soared towards the entrance to the manufactorum. Standing in the shadows by one of the staircases at the sides of the grand doors was Lucia.

Coalescing her body into its natural state once again, she took in the Vanus' appearance. It reminded her of herself for a moment if only superficially and for a brief instant.

Briefly, she scanned the area for more hostiles, listening closely, she heard the report of gunfire from within the foundry and the screaming of people as they were dismembered. Irtanna and Razuun were doing their part well.

Now for the final phase of the plan.

Summer approached the hidden Vanus assassin who hid in the shadows, the strange veins in her synskin created a distortion around her that explained why none of the Astartes were able to see her as they ran after Epoch. Good thing Summer didn't need to rely on normal sight to find her friend.

As further proof of this, a dead Iron Warrior lay at the Vanus' feet. A hole burned clean through his torse.

"Luminary," she said, and Lucia stepped forward, but not completely out of cover.

"I'm here, Seeker, ready to begin my part of the plan," rejoined Lucia, as her own skull mask shone with the crimson light of her eyes.

"Good," said Summer. "Insider and Ravage are providing cover for you. It should be mostly smooth sailing until you reach the control room."

Lucia nodded and Summer imagined one of those smiles she always had underneath that mask.

"Then I shall begin my mission."

"Wait," objected Summer, making the Vanus pause.

The Huntress stretched out her hand to Lucia and said, "Take my hand, there's just one last thing to do before you go."

Rather than question as the others did, Lucia took the proffered hand almost immediately. "I am presuming this is the same gift you gave Insider aboard the Bullet?"

The deduction made Summer smile. She knew, of course she knew.

Summer's aura flared to life as she brought her focus to bringing out the power of the dormant soul before her. A yellow glow traveled up the Vanus's arm as her soul awakened, the glow spread across her body as it had done for all the rest of Team SILVER.

The Huntress released the Vanus and felt a wave of relief wash over her. Now it was done and she could no longer worry so much.

Lucia examined the glow thoughtfully as it faded away from her arm. "Fascinating."

"I'll explain it properly later," said Summer, readying her Ivory. "Get going."

"Beginning operation," Lucia stated as she sprinted off into the heat haze and steam clouds of the manufactorum, a servo-skull popped out of the shadows to zoom after her. Summer paid it no mind. She needed to trust her team else she wouldn't be able to focus on her part.

Epoch's maniac laughter rose above the gunfire and Summer sprang into action. None of her team were going to die on her today, not even one that was designed to be a suicide bomber. Partially utilizing her semblance, she darted into the fray, her velocity creating a cloud of dust in the courtyard as she rejoined the battle.

---

Lucia moved through the foundry with calculated efficiency. Her movements were agile and quick, nothing overexaggerated and nothing wasteful. Like her fellows, she was a shining exemplar of her kind.

Her ascent through what looked to be a manufacturing zone for tank armor was swift. Long strides of her biconically enhanced legs were accompanied by long bounds from high walkway to higher walkway. Fingers reinforced with adamantium in place of bones gripped metal support beams under opposing walkways, which led to an acrobatic flip.

This ascent had not gone without any encounters. Along her path she ran into the human staff and guards of the facility. They were surprised by her presence, likely due to their distance from the mess in the courtyard and the lunacy that some force could stand up to the number of Astartes marching out to meet it.

Lucia sprinted along a wide walkway at the apex of the chamber, industrious support pillars that led to the ceiling of the building connected to metal trusses and gantries that supported their own production equipment. Said equipment moved and continued its production heedless of the carnage ensuing outside and on the floors below. Molten slabs moved from their crucibles to the machines that would smash them onto the shapes of their component parts. The constant his of quenchers were heard even from high above the rise of steam. From there they moved beyond to an assembly facility. From there human occupants of this facility would bring the components together under the guidance of either more Iron Warriors or any Techpriests that were present.

Everything in this facility was designed to produce weapons of war.

Four people stood ahead of the Vanus assassin. Two were guards with autoguns lowered while the other two were operators with dataslates. Lucia wasted no time in dealing with them. Blades slid from beneath her wrists, and she closed in on them.

The guards were first. With a bound, she shot past the first and drew her right blade across his chest. The force behind that swipe cute his chest clean open. Lucia focused on the next as he shouted in surprise. Using the momentum of the strike on the other guard, she twisted her body around like a spring and jumped the moment she was close enough to slash at the man.

For a moment she was a spinning rotary blade, the man's throat and face were split open while on of a now fleeing operator was slashed when Lucia landed. The final one ran off into the steam and Lucia's faithful servo-skull scanned the area they were fleeing too. With a short affirming burst of binary, the Vanus made to pursue but then paused and looked to the fallen foundry staff.

---

The operator ran, almost dropping the dataslate in the process. She ran hard and was thankful when she reached the strategium doors in time. Breathing franticly, she leaned over and brought her face to eye level with the retinal scanner for the door. A red light scanned her eyes and a short beep brough a sense of hope as the door slid open.

Hurriedly, she ran inside, ignoring her fellows as the door shut behind her. Everyone was watching her with worry, both for her and then themselves. Not long ago, they had just watched on of their senior officers get murdered by those they had followed simply because of a careless utterance. All of them were on edge.

No one said anything as she waited by the door. There was a loud thump, then came the rattle of an autogun unloading on the door. The sound made them all freeze as realization dawned on them.

Tense silence followed.

After what felt like an hour, their hearts slowed as the peril of their situation fell away. The operator wiped the sweat from her face and tentatively made her way to the vox station. Confident she could use her voice clearly now to contact any of the Iron Warriors to intervene.

The door to the strategium beeped and she felt ice run down her spine. Turning about face, she saw the assassin standing at the threshold. A severed head of her fellow dangling in the monster's right hand by the scruff of his hair. The assassin tossed the head into the strategium, spilling a trail of blood drops in its wake before landing in front of the operator.

Then the assassin attacked.

---

Lucia wiped the blood from her hands as she finished dealing with the last of the command staff of this foundry. While she dispatched them, the servo-skull had scanned the many terminals around the room as their occupants suddenly found themselves freed of their responsibilities. The loyal little Machine Spirit let out a binaric burst of notification as it location what its master desired.

Lucia sauntered over to the terminal it had pointed out, and gave her companion a loving pat on the bone of its human skull. Extending her arm, a long cable snaked out and stabbed into the body of the machine.

The servo-skull moved to the door and began a repeated augur sweep set to automatically alert her should anyone come up while her focus was on her work.

Lucia scanned the systems of the foundry and quickly gained an understanding of its layout. Her guess that this was a production facility was correct. They were producing everything for their up and coming attack on Athenis here.

It was almost sad that they had gone through the trouble of making this place only for the Primarch to destroy the rest of their forces across the system. Now it was her turn to put a nail in the coffin.

Sending her consciousness further into the system, she encountered defense programs and sighed as she pushed past them. She had killed more than a few hereteks in her career and had to contend with the risk of scrapcode. This was no issue since it was not put together with the intention of repelling someone like her.

Someone trained and shaped to cripple the machines of the enemy.

Battering the traitorous programs away, she found the mechanisms controlling the power core for the entire foundry. A massive plasma reactor located at the base of the entire structure.

Lucia disabled every failsafe she could find and set the reactor to maximum output. A warning popped up in her vision stating that without the safety protocols in place, the reactor would overload within eleven minutes and forty-six second and counting.

Withdrawing her connection to the terminal, she took her pistol and began shooting at every piece of equipment she could see. Each shot brought out a sudden burst of orange light that destroyed anything it touched. The pistol was powerful but it had a limited number of shots before a significant recharge period. One minute later and the entire chamber was dotted with smoking craters. started running towards the door. Her servo-skull buzzed from up ahead as something big triggered its augurs. An Iron Warrior stomped towards the door to the strategium.

Lucia pulled her pistol free once again and brought it up as she ran out to greet him. The Astartes had somehow divined her intentions as bolter fire was already rocketing towards her. Each one missed her by a whisper and she brought up her pistol to cook him alive in his armor.

This Iron Warrior dove to the side when she pulled the trigger. Too late to alter her aim, the shot went wide and Lucia received a notification in her visor stating that the pistol needed to recharge. Holstering it, she knew her blades would not work so she opted for another weapon.

Her fingers grew in length as vicious metal talons unfolded from within their structure. Not unlike the Neuro Gauntlet of the Eversor or the Toxicant Gauntlet of the Venenum in appearance, at least on the fingers. Hers, however, was built for a function not to dissimilar to the Callidus' Phase Sword.

The Chordclaws extended and the metal bones in her finger became rigid after they locked into place in order to secure this lethal armament. These transonic weapons were almost exclusive to the Cult Mechanicus' Skitarii Legions. Key word being almost.

The Vanus assassin closed the distance on the Astartes as he rose. She went into a low swipe to his chest, but he predicted her movements and stepped back. When she went for a follow-through, he lunged forward and seized her by the throat. Her body flared with yellow light as she felt the force behind his grip.

In response, she grappled with his arms and planted her stiletto heels against his thigh. Her Chordclaws activated as she pressed them against the exposed undersuit around his wrist joint. As her talons bit into his undersuit, the sonic fields of the blades synched with resonant frequency both the suit and his flesh. The result was the appearance of her fingers cutting through his arm like wet mush.

Within an instant Lucia was free, and the hand clasped around her through slackened as it was severed from her attacker and fell to the ground. The Iron Warrior snarled in anger as he staggered back from the sudden loss of his hand.

Lucia servo-skull flew in and attacked the Chaos Space Marine with a built-in digital weapon on its eye. A laser stabbed out into an eye lens, eliciting more howls from the Astartes.

The Vanus leapt at the marine and brought her Chordclaws down on his helm for her talons to dig into them as if they were cutting into a sponge. The talons slid free, and Lucia jumped back as the marine toppled to the floor.

Tapping into her team's vox, she called out. "This is Luminary, mission accomplished. Overload in ten minutes."

"Great job," answered Summer with the static of laughter in the background. "Get back to the courtyard and we'll make ourselves scarce. Insider, Ravage, you hear me?"

"Copy that," replied the Callidus.

"Moving now," confirmed the Venenum.

Lucia cut the vox and vaulted over the railing of the walkway, her servo-skull in hot pursuit. No time to lose lest they all go up in smoke.

---

Summer stabbed at the Astartes as he tried to swat her away with his power maul. The two were locked in a duel one that had become a microcosm of the battle as a whole. The tip of Ivory Dorn was chipping away at the marine, undermining his strength where it struck joints and exposed power cables. He bled while she danced around him unharmed.

Being a Huntress, she was expected to fight monsters, and Chaos Space Marines certainly counted.

It was to her advantage that he was so much bigger than she was, it made it so much easier for her to hit him than the reverse. Astartes were not used to being outpaced, and she made full use of her advantage to dismember him.

Over by the gatehouse, Vitalii stood atop the rampart, his primary Exitus pistol in hand as he brought down another Iron Warrior. The exit strategy demanded he close the distance between him and Summer. Tactical reasoning would countermand this if the Vanus had not set the reactor to explode.

He had to trust her. If a son of the God-Emperor had that much faith in her ability, then so would he.

Another Astartes rose up and aimed his boltgun at the Vindicare, Astartes reflexes were mighty, but Vitalii's were nothing short of lethal. Before the barrel was level, a turbo penetrator round slammed into the Chaos Space Marnes chest, the miniature melta charges destroying his hearts and lungs along with turning his spine brittle.

Epoch was clashing with two at the same time, relishing in the rush of the moment. The pair attacked him in an effort to use each other as bait so the remainder could kill the berserker. To their horror, the Eversor was so single minded that he was unable to alternate targets mid-combat. Nor did they expect him to hit as hard as they would with what would be a knife to them.

Still, the effort to clash blades with two Astartes at once with no openings to exploit was a strain on him. They were wary of his talons and the strange force field that had saved his life at least thrice now.

The limb of one of the Iron Warriors was torn off by a shot from Vitalii from above. It was an explosive round which brought the warrior to the ground, blood spurting from the stump where his arm should be.

Bereft of his ally, the remaining traitor tried to apply more pressure to the Eversor, but Epoch had returned the strategy in kind. Without a secondary target, his strikes became a blur. Within seconds the Iron Warrior was forced back.

Epoch was about to lunge in with his gauntlet, but a glowing blade pierced the Iron Warrior's chest and was subsequently blown open from behind by a high caliber bullet. The Space Marine fell forward at the assassin's feet.

Summer stood behind him and Epoch tilted his head at this development. The Huntress smiled and waved at him. The Eversor could not understand the gesture, but he knew her intent for the fallen mark at his feet.

With a snarl, he barked, "My kill!"

The talons of his Neuro Gauntlet slammed into the back of the marine's skull and Epoch slammed the head down into the rockcrete. He repeated this until the matter the tips of his claws touched were nothing but bits of mush.

When he was done, he looked to the other combatant who had been shot and to his frustration, the marine was already dead. The Vindicare responsible was running towards them.

Epoch howled in indignation at having a mark stolen from him. "No fair! Scope coward! My kill!"

Vitalii did not react to the Eversor and turned to his leader. "What is the plan?"

Summer's form scattered into a storm of white and red. The cloud ran over the Eversor who tried to swat at it with blade and claw. Vitalii saw the berserker come apart the same way as the Huntress had and the cloud had a new color added to it. The black of the Eversor's synskin. Vitalii felt the urge to draw his pistol but fought it down as the cloud came at him.

---

Lucia caught sight of the front door. The bright light beyond cast the pair of sprinting figures before it in stark silhouette. The Callidus and the Venenum were already at the door and Lucia found she had to drop from a triple flight of stairs to catch up. The heels of her metal feet bent the floor as she landed.

Running at full speed, she called out to them, and they raised their weapons to cover her as they all ran into the light of the courtyard. Alarms echoed across the base as they sprinted across the yard and towards the gate.

The servo-skull tailing them sent continuous pings to notify Lucia of new contacts emerging from the edges of its peripheral vision. Both Astartes and baseline humans were marching on them now. The latter likely doing so under the threat of their overseers.

Bullets came flying towards them from close to all thanks to their lack of cover. Their bodies glowed with that strange protective field the Huntress had given them. The servo-skull sparked and sent one final data upload to its master as a mass reactive round shattered both the bone and metal components into shards.

Lucia felt the flicker of doubt creep into her mind as the hail of fire grew more intense. Then the panicked shouts reached them. The storm of munitions quieted as they found a more imposing target. A swirling cloud of white, red and black petals surged towards the trio. Bullets flew into the flying mass only to either pass through without making contact, or to be cut apart by the deceptive particles dancing within. Mass reactive rounds passed through the cloud without much trouble.

In those split seconds as Lucia followed the other two assassins, she recalled the sparring match she had observed between Irtanna and Summer before their briefing. Summer had vanished into a cloud just like this one.

The deduction made, she did not halt her stride or fall behind the other two as they ran straight for the cloud.

It washed over them and Lucia felt a sensation she could not describe with any form of clarity. When it came over her, she felt like she had expanded in a way, come apart and yet still whole somehow. Like her molecules were pushed apart but were still connected to each other. They still recognized each other as belonging to the same organism.

She was scattered and yet her mind was whole. The cloud that was now her and the rest of Team SILVER swirled in the center of the courtyard.

The entire remaining contingent of Iron Warriors had arrived to take vengeance for their fallen. They had brought plasma guns, reaper autocannon, and rocket launchers. No more were they allowing their confidence to dictate the reservation of resources. They wanted to destroy that which had wounded them.

The cloud twisted and swirled then it pointed towards the closed gate. It began to spiral from a needle point, the speed of its motion was enough to make the air shriek. The cloud had become a sentient drill and the consciousnesses that were now passengers within tried to comprehend what was happening.

The mass shot forward and tore into the gate as sparks of molten metal flew in every direction. The process was further aided by the onslaught of those who were supposed to defend the citadel. Their massed fire only further weakened the gate. With a final rending of steel, the gate gave way and the mass tore through it.

And with that Team SILVER soared off into the forests, ripping apart anything they came into contact with.

---

Summer strained to keep them all together. This was the longest she had ever gone while carrying passengers in this form. Time started to blur for some time, but she had plenty of experience with that feeling. It was likely no more than a few minutes at most.

Over the course of being introduced to the Imperium, Summer's skill with her semblance has skyrocketed. Already she had long abandoned the moniker of Petal Surge and taken the true name of her semblance. Crimson Cloud was her inheritance, and she was making sure she got the most use she could from it.

Already she knew she was close to a kilometer away from the fortress but pushed herself even further. No chances could be taken, as Lucia had described the magnitude of such an explosion.

She was just happy she could not hear those she carried with her. Given past experiences, she learned that sudden exposure to the way her semblance allowed her to view the world caused most people to panic.

While she had more confidence in her team, she knew they would be constantly asking questions while they were in this state with her, only they lacked the agency to do anything.

After she found a small clearing, she released her allies, their bodies reforming as they fell to the dirt. None of their landings were graceful as would be the norm. Their minds were still reeling from what they were exposed to. This was not corruption nor the power of a psyker, it was simply a view of the world the human mind, no matter how well trained, was just unprepared for.

Perhaps with repeated exposure, this could be proven wrong, but Summer never had the chance to test that as all of her old team hated it.

Summer's own body reformed, and she felt the onrush of fatigue fall upon her. Opting to sit on a nearby log, she watched as the assassins got their bearings.

"That was quite the experience," Lucia said half laughing with a wobbly rise. "I could barely make sense of it all."

"You understood that madness?" quipped Razuun as she pushed herself up with a closed fist. "I felt like I was caught in a vortex and frozen in place at the same time."

"Weird," joined Irtanna, who placed a hand on an expose root for support. "I felt like I was constantly falling and rising all at once."

Vitalii remained quiet and he rose, his gait the steadiest of the lot.

Epoch jumped up, snarling and growling as he scanned the area for targets. "More marks! I need more marks!"

"Oh, shut up you animal," spat Irtanna.

"You shut up, little sneak!" snapped the Eversor, before he laid his eyes on Summer who was watching him with a serious glare.

He went still as his implants took hold; his breathing was hard as the cocktail of chemicals in his blood had not eased their effects.

Satisfied that the berserker would not run off, she addressed the rest of her team. "Is everyone alright?"

"I'm fine," answered Irtanna with slow stretches to make sure the recombination of her body had not hampered her flexibility.

"Slightly off balance, but not hurt," confessed Razuun, as she examined herself as well.

"Unhampered," stated Vitalii, as he gave his weapons a cursory inspection.

"You really must explain how that works," said Lucia after performing an internal diagnisitc of her bionic systems.

"Again, later," remined Summer. "How long until the reactor explodes?"

Lucia stared off into space and Summer thought about peering into her companion's mind to see what she was seeing but brushed the idea away. There was tactical necessity and there was being pushy and controlling.

Lucia raised an open hand, her fingers splayed out for all to see. First was the thumb, she pressed it against her palm, leaving only four fingers. Next was the pinky finger and so on until only her index finger remained.

As the index finger folded into the formed fist, Lucia uttered the word, "Now."

As if the word were the final act of a long-prepared ritual, the landscape trembled as the noise of the explosion was heard. The trees shook violently from the sudden force of the shockwave. Summer watched as the thickest branches tilted the trees they were attached to, half expecting them to snap despite Lucia's words on their supreme sturdiness.

The mushroom shaped cloud from the blast rose up into the sky and Team SILVER watched it with satisfaction at a job well done and surprise at the distance their leader had carried them. They had only felt the final reverberations of the shockwave and the blast wave of fire was not in sight.

Summer spared a thought for all those poor souls that she had condemned to death. While she was sure they believed what they were doing was right as the Shauni woman had, she still felt a tinge of regret.

How many could she have saved if she tried?

The thought was banished as she remembered the Astartes. They would not tolerate deserters or betrayers. Anyone who rebelled would be killed on the spot. Loyal or traitor, both sides had that in common. The people who joined them were doomed from the start.

It was simply her hopeful vanity that allowed such thoughts to persist.

The words of her mother came back to her again, a balm for her troubled heart. "There will always be those left behind. The ones that cannot be saved. Mourn them but do not torment yourself with their loss. Else your tears will never stop and prevent you from protecting what you can."

The pragmatic wisdom of her predecessor bounced in her head a moment longer before she stood up.

"Think that got them all?"

Lucia placed her thumb and index finger on the razor teeth of her skull mask. "I doubt anyone was aware the reactor was about to explode. I disabled the alarm systems."

The Vanus assassin then shrugged. "But if any did, we'll have the rest of our time here to see if they resurface. They'll try to take control of their remaining forces to hunt us down."

Summer let out a relived sigh. "That's good. A squad or two is fine, but companies would have been an issue."

"It is unlikely they would be out of range of a blast like that, there were no high speed Astartes vehicles in their forges," said Irtanna.

"They would not chase after us without making sure their holdings are secure," added Vitalii. "With their commander dead their priorities would shift to reestablishing the command structure. They would not leave unless they were alerted to the overload."

"Which they were not," chirped Lucia proudly. "I not only disabled the alarms but infected their systems with a small virus to ensure everything was in the green right up until the reactor burst."

The Vindicare nodded to the Vanus. "Yes, without prior knowledge to Luminary's tampering, they would act in the typical manner of Astartes. Hold their ground, reestablish the chain of command and track us down once they are secure."

"Space Marines are stupid," hissed Epoch, making everyone look at him. "They can hunt on their own but choose to hunt in packs. We killed many yet they do not follow without a new pack leader."

Summer let out a sudden gasp of recollection. "Oh, that reminds me. Kill count!"

A finger was pointed at the Callidus. "Insider, you first."

"Sixteen," answered Irtanna.

"Ha!" laughed Epoch. "Nineteen! Little sneak!"

"Twenty-one," joined Vitalii with a casual tone of voice, making the Eversor turn to her. The Vindicare ignored the glare from the skull helm.

Epoch let out a low growl at being outdone. "Grrr. Not fair. Not fair. You steal my kills and arrive before me! Scoping thief!"

"If we are only counting Astartes then three," confessed Lucia with a shrug.

"I got twelve," said Razuun who had her hand raised in inquiry. "Do their leaders count for extra points? I killed at least three of their champions in there."

"No, that would pretty much double Vitalii's score since he got their leader," giggled Summer. "Also, seventeen."

"That makes eighty-eight int total," clapped Lucia. "Now that is quite the accomplishment. Not bad for our first outing as a team."

"Don't I know it," smiled the Huntress before she refocused on the task before her. "But let's not get lazy now that they're headless. We need to dismantle the rest of them."

"Not to mention Hemril," added Vitalii. "He and his collaborators must be dealt with."

"I think we can leave that part to the governor," stated the Vanus. "After all, when Lord Guilliman arrives to meet him, the governor will need something to explain why he hasn't been able to reply to any of the messages sent from Indomitus."

Summer thought on it for a moment, then nodded. "Okay then. So, we play a game of tattle tale on them. I trust you can handle that, Luminary."

While the face was covered, Summer knew Lucia was smiling behind that mask. "I'll have an army demolishing the forest to get to those compounds in two days."

"Great, as for Hemril."

"We'll handle him," offered Irtanna while standing at Razuun's side. "He won't lay so much as a finger on the governor."

"And we'll make sure to ready the noose for him," said Razuun with more enjoyment than the Huntress would have liked.

"Wonderful…" Summer was about to say more but paused when she realized something. Something rather obvious that she had missed. "Umm, how are we going to get back to the Bullet? All of us are down here and we have no flyers."

The assassins all looked at one another, even the Eversor, and Summer felt left out all of a sudden, like they knew something she did not. Which they most likely did.

"You are going to like what happens next," promised Irtanna.

And Summer did like what happened next. A lot.

---

The Team traversed the forest to a large clearing, it was the largest one they had found so far. It stretched into the distance so much that it more resembled grasslands, but they knew it was completely encircled by trees. In the coming years, it would shrink as more trees sprouted.

Summer asked no questions, but the air of anticipation was palpable.

Then a low whining noise reached her ears, and she turned her head to the sky. A look of utter bewilderment crossed her features at what she thought was impossible.

Descending gracefully from the heavens was a ship. Its form was sleek and sharp, horizontally flat with a subtle rise on the upper side and dip on the lower side with a sharp-pointed but otherwise featureless prow. It reminded Summer of the blade of a dagger. The panels covering the thing were pitch black. No… they went beyond that; they were so dark as to have barely any light reflecting off of them at all.

This ship was a phantom in space, meant to hide from all but those it allowed to see it.

Then the memory of her drop into the planet's atmosphere returned to her. Of the black almost formless shape of the ship she had been put in charge of.

The realization came to her as the words left her lips. "That's the Silver Bullet!"

Her gaze found the rest of her team who were all staring at her, with the exception of Epoch, who continued to twitch at every shadow and swipe at anything that got too close to him. No tree or tall blade of grass was spared.

She knew the ladies among them were all grinning, Vitalii might have felt the same, but she knew he was not smiling. With a frown she demanded an explanation. Lucia provided it as the ship closed in as it circled the clearing.

"The Silver Bullet is a Stiletto Class voidship, one of the few Warp-capable ships in the Imperium which could freely enter and exit a planet's atmosphere. You'll not find a more reliable vessel anywhere in the Imperium. A gift from the Sigillite when he made the Assassinorum official as to ensure we were not reliant on standard Imperium channels to reach our targets."

Summer listened to the elaboration and watched the vessel close in with awe at the beauty of its craftsmanship. The ship was small by voiship standards, but it was still a monster in terms of sheer size. It was at least a kilometer in length.

Landing gear emerged from its shadowed underside and touched the ground with a resounding thud. A hatch slowly opened from the underside revealing a section Summer had not seen yet and a group of robed servitors stood in attendance. All of them waiting patiently for their masters to return to them.

Team SILVER boarded the craft to continue their work.

---

Governor Suuniv Praolz of Pralthax stood on the landing pad with bated breath. Down below were the massed buildings of his city, Athenis. Flyers were hovering all around, their crews all watching him expectantly. Imagists and hololive reporters circled him like carrion feeders to a corpse. The governor ignored them for this moment was too important.

Fresh beads of sweat formed on his brow from the harshness of the day's heat. It was a beautiful day, a perfectly clear day. A day that would go down in the annals of Pralthax as one of the most momentous days in his planet's history.

It was so fitting that it should happen right as matters with the insurgents was just about wrapped up. That he should manage it now was truly as the deacon had said when they had gotten the news.

"The God-Emperor has not abandoned Pralthax yet."

No more than five days prior, the Judge of the local Adeptus Arbites had received an anonymous message with set coordinates into the jungles. They had informed Praolz of this and warned him not to tell anyone. Not even Hemril.

The Arbites investigated and the news they brought back stunned Praolz. An entire military compound was found in the forest, and all of its inhabitants were slaughtered. The Judged ruled it as an internal schism, due to the nature of the carnage and the state of the bodies. Many were torn apart, while others were beaten to death or killed by projectile weaponry. Since lasguns were not a commonality in the Pralthax system, normally being provided by the Astra Militarum when they came to collect their tithe of soldiers.

It was a relief when he had learned that the Arbites received several more leaks from assumedly the same anonymous source. Whoever had found their loyalty to the Throne had escaped the carnage and exposed the entire operation. The message had implied these locations had no divisions of loyalty and would resist to the last.

The governor was considering going to his ministers to discuss the matter, but then the Master of the Choir forced his way into Praolz's palace. Normally this would be a huge breach of protocol, but given the messages the Astropaths had been trying to give to Praolz, his urgency was greatly appreciated.

The Astropath had been trying to reach the governor for weeks, someone in his council had given the order not to allow those inside to leave. The Master of the Choir had only been allowed to leave due to a sudden contradiction in the guards' orders, which Praolz was still unsure about.

After the news had been delivered Praolz suspended the necessary council that would normally be required and ordered a full deployment of the PDF along with the entirety of the Arbites. Leveraging emergency powers to expedite the process.

A day later, contact with the enemy was reported and he had only received good news after that. It was crushing victory after crushing victory. The insurgents were completely unprepared for the tide of righteousness that fell upon them.

Today they were marching on the last stronghold, and the timing could not have been any better. For this was the day that the Imperium returned to Pralthax.

Praolz was a well-built man, lean but not the most impressive physical specimen. Nothing compared to Hemril when he was in his prime, but he tried. He had been waiting on the pad for just over an hour, many of the local holonews reporters had gathered around and on adjacent tower tops with their enhanced pict-thieves ready for the big moment.

And Praolz felt the heavy weight of that moment grow with each passing moment. He had to fight the urge to pull out a handkerchief and wipe his forehead. While he had to look clean and dignified, he thought that humble dedication to duty suited him better for this particular occasion.

For he could never be more dignified or sublime than the being who was coming to meet him.

When the name left the Master of the Choir's mouth, Praolz knew he needed to get his behind into gear, for a Primarch was coming.

Behind him at the edge of the pad where it connected to the main superstructure of the spire, stood his attendants in a neat line. His manisters and trusted advisors who had more than earned their place at this momentous meeting.

Each of them was dressed to look their best, beautiful dresses for the women and dress uniforms for the men. All held a silver goblet in their hands, while the governor two.

Standing off to the sides were the governor's servants. Many of which were women dress in green and black maids unforms. Two of which held portable cooling units to store beverages.

There was an electric buzz in the air as a lone shape descended from the heavens. It was a Thunderhawk of the Adeptus Astartes. Its hull plates were a shade of cobalt blue and it bore the symbol of distant Macragge.

The gunship swooped down towards the spire and stalled its descent to come into a slow hover before the landing pad. The many imagists and paparazzi snapping pict-captures of the shuttle as it shifted closer to the pad.

A low reverberation ran through Praolz as the shuttle planted itself firmly on the pad. A sudden silence fell on the gathered Pralthaxians as they waited with suspense.

The sudden hiss of the craft depressurizing made the governor tense, and he silently prayed that he had not done anything to upset the God-Emperor. Lest he incur the wrath of one of His sons.

With a thump, the boarding ramp fully opened, the noise was shortly followed by the tread of armored boots on steel. Praolz was expecting something akin to the fabled Adeptus Astartes, but the figure that stepped out from the shadows of that craft went beyond his imagination.

The warrior was a giant among giants, this fact further emphasized by the duo of smaller warriors, clearly cast from the same mold, who followed him out. They all wore blue and gold, their armor embellished to the point where they could pass for purely decorative pieces were it not for clear battle damage.

The two smaller warriors had shields and swords. They stood with shields at the ready, but their blades were lowered.

Praolz realized they were bodyguards, obviously, what sort of Imperium would not place guards to protect those of the highest authority.

As for the tallest figure, he could be none other than the Primarch. Praolz had to fight the urge to kneel when he saw that perfectly sculped face. He carried no weapons save for his own armored fists, and even then, he looked more deadly than his guardians.

"Greetings to you, Governor Praolz of Pralthax," said the Primarch with a charming smile. "I am Roboute Guilliman, Lord of Ultramar and Lord Regent of the Imperium."

"I am honored to meet you, Lord Guilliman," replied Praolz, happy he was still able to speak clearly despite the lump he felt forming in his throat. "I and my people welcome you to our world."

Guilliman glanced at the many flyers that were surrounding them, and Praolz saw his expression turn neutral. For a moment, a sudden panic fell on him for fear of offending this titan of myth.

The panic disappeared as the Primarch chuckled. "I can see they are most welcoming."

The Primarch looked Praolz straight in the eye. "I must admit, you surprise me, governor."

"How so, my Lord?"

Guilliman frowned pensively. "I was expecting more turmoil from a world which had failed to answer any of my missives for the first few days of my arrival in system."

Praolz forced a smile, one he was sure that stare could see through, but he smiled anyway. For he had good news to deliver. "That was a mistake on my part. We recently had a problem with a sect of insurrectionists."

He could feel the sweat build up in the palms of his hands forcing him to tighten his grip on the goblets as he felt the weight of that glare. "We have just finished rooting them out, Lord. The lack of communication was their doing as the Arbites suspect."

Guilliman's stare softened, and then he smiled. "I see the people of your world have some mettle to them yet. I am glad. This means I will not need to bring my armies down upon the insurgents."

"I am honored to have spared you the effort," Praolz said with a slight bow. "Their last outpost is being destroyed as we speak. A report should be arriving within the hour."

Guilliman chuckled. "Good, that means we shall have time to discuss other matters."

"Other matters?"

The Primarch nodded but frowned. "I am afraid not all my tidings are good, governor. The traitors have ravaged your fiefdom. Tertius is in ruins and Secundus was nearly toppled. Its population was gutted by the influence of sedition."

Praolz smiled sadly. "I expected as much, if not worse. I can only be thankful that this world was spared such fire."

The next expression the Primarch wore was one of consolidation. "I shall aid you in facilitating the rebuilding of your domain. But all I can offer is guidance and instruction for the reconstruction fleet that will arrive shortly after my departure. They shall aid you further."

"Thank you, Lord, your wisdom is more than I deserve."

"You deserve more than that, but there are other systems that call for my attention, so I cannot stay long. But let us not talk about such things. Tell me, why do you carry those chalices?"

Praolz lifted one up to the Primarch, he felt like a child offering a toy to an adult. The cup was so small as to stand securely atop one of the Primarch's fingers.

"It is a tradition. When a visitor of significant import comes to our humble world, it is customary for one of my station to offer a drink to them."

Guilliman raised an eyebrow and looked to the ministers behind Praolz. "And the reason for you all to bear one for yourselves?"

"So we may drink with you. As a way of formal greeting and respect."

"I see," said the Primarch who lowered himself to one knee, and stretched out an armored hand. Even then, he still towered over Praolz.

The governor placed the goblet in the Primarch's armored hand, which the son of the Emperor held between his forefinger and thumb. Turning to the servants, he signaled for them to begin. Two maids emerged from the mass, both carrying bottles filled with carefully distilled wine.

The ministers presented their goblets with an air of gratitude, and one maid poured for each of them. The bright red liquid filling their cups to full.

The second maid walked towards the governor and the Primarch. Her bright blonde hair was tied up in neat bun. After she poured for the governor, she made her way to the Primarch and filled his cup. Guilliman glanced at the woman but said nothing as she walked away.

"Now," proclaimed Praolz to all who could hear, which included the many who were broadcasting this moment to the population of his world. "We drink."

He raised his goblet high and his ministers mimicked his actions. "To the return of Lord Guilliman, Son of the Emperor and Savior of the Pralthax System. I thank you for returning peace to our small corner of the galaxy."

"And I thank you," answered Guilliman. Though it went against custom for the guest to speak unprompted, Praolz did not voice this. "For holding fast to your loyalty to my father and His Imperium."

Praolz brought the cup to his lips and drank. The action was repeated by his ministers as well. Guilliman was slower than the rest, mainly due to the cup being so small for him.

When it was done, Guilliman returned the goblet to Praolz and stood. "We have much to talk about…"

A sudden gasp sounded from behind the governor, prompting the Primarch to look past Praolz to the assembled members of his council. The sound of choking drew Praolz's attention as well.

Four of the ministers, Lady Sinthia, Lord Markov, Lady Levinue and Hemril were all clutching at their throats. A sudden coughing fit had fallen over them as they struggled for air. Their eyes turned red as foam passed their lips, followed shortly by their collapsing forms.

Guilliman looked beyond the dying officials and into the crowd of servants. The two maids who had poured the drinks were skulking away, unnoticed to all but him. One was the blonde-haired woman while the other had hair with a deep crimson hue. Both of them turned to face him before they were about to round a corner out of sight. They both smiled and placed a hand to their chests to give a short bow to him before disappearing.

Guilliman smiled and spoke up before Praolz could call for aid. "I see you have also found the snakes in your midst, Governor Praolz."

His words made the governor turn to him in surprise.

Guilliman continued to speak. "Going to far as to stage the execution of these traitors right before me as a sign of your loyalty is truly remarkable."

Praolz stood in silence for a moment as he processed what the Lord of Ultramar had just said. Traitors? He turned to the fallen officials. Hemril, one of his closest advisors was a traitor?

Then he looked back to the Primarch and saw the look in his eyes. Pieces of a disconnected puzzle were suddenly slotted together in his mind. The anonymous messages, the slaughtered compound, this unforeseen assassination.

Guilliman knew. He had always known. How could he not? He was a son of the Emperor.

"Ye-yes," stuttered Praolz, deciding it wiser to play along. Whether those of his cabinet were true traitors or simply an example could be worked out later. "I thought it would have been more fitting for you to witness these traitors die in person."

A melodious laugh escaped burst from the Primarch. "Hahaha! If only the rest of the Imperium embodied such foresight."

---

"So, that's the report, my Lord," said Lucia to the hololithic projection of Guilliman.

Team SILVER was once again gathered in the briefing room, minus their berserker who was returned to his stasis chamber.

"They were systematically destroying settlements, both major and minor for one big salvage operation. This was all a part of their plan to prepare for the return of the rest of their warband. The recruits they were able to sway from the displaced populations was a boon for their cause but it was a small thing compared to what they were truly after. Rather than mine for raw material, the Chaos Space Marines razed the nearest settlements and took all the usable material they could find. All to be repurposed into their outposts and war machines."

"Thus, both strengthening their foothold and weakening the local Imperial power," finished Guilliman. "A clever stratagem."

The Lord Regent began to rotate in place as he spoke to the gathered assassins. "You have all performed admirably. I knew Fadix had chosen well when he assigned you to this task force. You are all dismissed. I wish to speak with your leader in private."

The assassins all stood up and walked out the doors, leaving only Summer remaining with the projection.

"You did well," congratulated Guilliman. "It must have been a lengthy undertaking."

"There were some difficulties, but nothing we could not handle," replied Summer with a smile.

"I understand there were some parts of the operation that were particularly hard for you."

Summer's smile became sad as she recalled the woman Irtanna had called Shauni. "Yeah, I just wish some people would have listened."

"When one is convinced that their home is evil, that they must take up arms and burn it down, it becomes very difficult and time consuming to convince them otherwise," explained the Primarch.

"Time that we don't have," finished Summer.

Guilliman nodded. "Yes, I know you want to save them, but for every day we languish thousands or millions of innocents are being put to the pyre. This is the hand we have been delt I am afraid."

Summer said nothing in response.

"That is why I gave you this team," said Guilliman. "It may be hard, their methods may be distasteful, but they can put you in positions to save more lives than the Templars or even the Custodes could offer."

"I figured as much," chuckled Summer, her temporary sadness banished. "I'm your silver bullet, eh?"

Now it was Guilliman's turn to smile. "You proved your talents already and it would have been a waste to saddle you with the Cadians or the Templars. What better place to store a miracle cure than inside a silver bullet?"

Summer laughed. "You flatterer, I'm touched."

Guilliman returned the laugh. "Take care, Summer. I shall contact you should a new situation arises."

Standing up, Summer bowed to him with her best curtsey. "A pleasure as always, Lord Regent."

"You wound me," Guilliman feigned sadness. "I thought we had pushed past formalities."

The both of them laughed once again.

"Let me know if you need someone to talk to," offered Summer with complete seriousness.

"I will," answered the Primarch. "Until then, stay safe."

With that the connection was cut and the hololith deactivated. Summer made for the door. When it slipped open, she saw the rest of the team standing in the passage beyond, waiting for her.

None of them said anything and Summer looked at them with concern.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

Lucia was in a cheerful mood and prompted the Huntress to follow them. The team made their way to the door leading to the practice cage observation level. The Huntress cast glances at the rest of the team and all she got was shrugs from Irtanna and Razuun while Vitalii shook his head. Summer was about to question why they had been brought here, but stalled her inquiry when Lucia raised her index finger to her lips.

"You all need to see this," whispered the Vanus.

The door slid open, and the natural silence of the ship allowed them to perceive a small noise. It was the sound of something cutting through the air. Each of them stepped inside and followed the noise. Their footsteps were those of ghosts as they approached the edge of the practice cage.

Summer's eyes widened with joy at the sight before her.

Inside the cage was little Rain holding a long pole that would be about the size of a spear for her current height. She was swinging it up and down repeatedly in a clear attempt to understand how to mimic the moves she had seen only a few days prior.

The little girl was garbed in black training attire provided to her by the servitors, meant for ease of movement and heat regulation. Summer saw the look on the little girl's face. There was frustration there, but also determination. A feeling of comradery blossomed in Summer's heart at the sight. This was the first step in learning to be a huntress.

Turning to Lucia, she asked, "How long?"

"I caught her sneaking in here about five local days ago," answered Lucia softly.

"Sloppy," commented Razuun who received a not from Vitalii.

"Undisciplined," he added with finality.

It was not false; Summer could see over a dozen mistakes in the child's form and execution of her swings. On top of that, she was gripping the pole as if it were a baseball bat.

But she was a child, mistakes were expected.

Summer frowned at the pair. "At least she's trying."

"Trying is not good enough," objected Razuun.

The Huntress looked to Irtanna; the woman who was assigned as her personal assistant looked just as pleased as Summer did. She nudged her head towards the arena and Summer nodded.

"Then I'll fix that," said Summer as she and Irtanna vaulted over the railing and landed in the arena.

Their sudden arrival startled the little girl into dropping her pole. "Oh, Miss Summer, Miss Irtanna."

A sudden red blush crept over Rain's cheeks at being caught. "I… I was just…"

Summer walked over and picked up the pole. Then she looked down to her little student. "You want to learn how to fight?"

Rain looked pensive for a moment, but then shyly nodded. Summer's smile was warm as she returned the pole. The girl's small hands clutched it tightly.

"I'll teach you then."

Rain's eyes brightened at the offer. "Really?"

"Not just her," said Irtanna, turning to the rest of their team above. "We'll all teach you."

The rest of Team SILVER looked at one another, then Lucia gave a smile. "I don't see why not."

"The galaxy is not kind. She needs to learn," said Vitalii. "Better to start now, when she is young like the rest of us."

Razuun furrowed her brow for a moment but then sighed. "Fine."

Summer chuckled. "Okay then, lesson one."

Rain's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden start and fumbled to get her weapon in position.

"First thing is that you are holding it wrong," said the Huntress as she brought out her Ivory and held it with her hands around the mid-section. "If you want to fight with any weapon you need to focus on learning the proper grip."

Summer got into a lunging position and thrust the tip of the spear forward. Her hands changing position for maximum reach and power. She then presented her weapon to the child to show her exactly what she meant.

"Don't keep your hands together, spread them apart like this."

As the instruction of their newest neophyte began, the rest of the assassins watched on with a certain level of curiosity. Certainly, none of them expected this, but strangely, none of them were opposed to it. Oddly enough, seeing this instruction of their youngest brought them all a sense of satisfaction and anticipation.

Slowly but surely, they were beginning to understand what their leader meant by 'team.' This was no ordinary strike force. They were a unit now.

They were the silent shadow of Indomitus. The ones who were called when no other force would do.

They were Team SILVER.