MASS EFFECT DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. WARHAMMER DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. APPARENTLY, POWER FISTS ARE HEAVY, AND I FELL DOWN AFTER PUTTING ONE ON. OW.

Okay, so the World Eaters weren't enough, we gotta have the biggest Ork around thrown into the mix. That should be fun.

Star-Bound

Chapter 34

Fall

Khârn reacted first, throwing himself at Ghazghkull with reckless abandon. For his part, the Grand Warlord laughed; Chaos-blessed chainaxe met power klaw in a blinding flash of conflicting energies that sent both combatants staggering back.

At that moment, Shepard wasn't sure who to fight; Orks, World Eaters and Imperials were all fighting each other at the same time in a confused melee. She had no allies close enough to aid her; the Alexian Guard had been cut off by a squad of Raptors in World Eaters colors, and everyone else was fighting Orks. Even Hiral, who had doggedly stuck to her side until now, was fighting for his life against a large Grot carrying a massive banner in one hand, and a jagged knife in the other.

Her luck changed when a small Imperial force broke through to her side. Grimaldus led the charge, caving in the skull of a World Eater who came close; at his back were several Black Templars, a battered squad of Sisters, and a platoon of veteran Guardsmen, led by Yarrick.

"We must take the fight to Thraka," Yarrick said, straining to be heard over the sound of battle. "This is our best chance to kill him!"

"You deal with the Ork," Grimaldus told Shepard, and pointed his crozius at Khârn. "The heretic is mine."

Personally, Shepard would have been happy to let Khârn and Ghazghkull kill each other, but she could see the hate in Yarrick's remaining eye, and hear it in Grimaldus' voice. The only way she was going to have a chance at keeping them alive was to join in the fighting.

Grimaldus charged, his Black Templars at his back as he barreled into Khârn. The Chaos champion had little trouble killing the Astartes accompanying the Reclusiarch, but Grimaldus managed to deflect Gorechild with his crozius.

That was all Shepard had time to see, because the rest of her ad-hoc force attacked Ghazghkull. Yarrick leveled his storm bolter and emptied the entire magazine into the Ork's face; one bolt shell drew blood, but the rest deflected off his adamantium skull.

"Face me, beast!" Yarrick roared. "Let us be done with our feud!"

"If dat's 'ow ya feel, Bale-Eye," Ghazghkull laughed.

Yarrick's men fired volleys of las-fire, but it meant nothing to the enormous Ork, who proceeded to butcher his way through them all. The squad of Sisters also opened fire, but their bolters were barely more effective; Ghazghkull leveled Mork's Roar and fired at almost point-blank range. Most of the Sisters were immediately torn to shreds; Josephine and Katarin survived only because Shepard hurled Liberator into Ghazghkull's arm, throwing off his aim.

"Nice hammer-fing," Ghazghkull grunted. "'S gonna be a nice trophy."

Shepard hovered just above the Ork, her features twisted in hatred. "Come and take it, you ugly fucker."

Ghazghkull charged, ignoring the bolts from Katarin and the flame from Josephine. Shepard was shocked at how fast the monstrous Ork could move, and barely flew out of the way of Gork's Klaw. Yarrick took the opportunity to slam his own power klaw into the Ork's side; there was a shower of sparks, but the Old Man of Armageddon just couldn't work up the strength to punch through Ghazghkull's armor.

"Ya got weak, Bale-Eye!" Ghazghkull drove Shepard back with a burst of high-caliber fire, then turned to face Yarrick. "Ya got old."

"It does not matter," Yarrick hissed. "I will kill you!"

As Ghazghkull loomed over the commissar, Yarrick's bionic eye glowed; a las-beam shot out from the lens, nicking Ghazghkull's face. The sudden strike didn't hurt Ghazghkull, but it did surprise him by the tiniest fraction, which caused Gork's Klaw to be just that much off. Instead of turning Yarrick into a pile of steaming meat, the klaw sliced across his chest, tore through cloth and armor, and practically flensed the entire front half of his body. Yarrick screamed in pain, rage and denial, and collapsed.

Shepard had never hated herself more than when she watched a genuine hero fall in front of her, and she'd been too slow to save him.

But I will avenge him.

Wings shining with blinding light, Shepard slammed into Ghazghkull. Liberator ripped one of the smokestacks from his back, and a point-blank shot from her plasma pistol melted a hole in his armor, rewarding her with the smell of burnt Ork-flesh.

"Dat 'urt, oomie!" Ghazghkull whirled and smashed Mork's Roar into her, slamming her into the blood-soaked ground. "I 'ope ya put up a betta fight den Bale-Eye!"

Gork's Klaw came down again, but this time, it was intercepted. Bloodied but unbowed, Jaghatai Khan held his dao in both hands; his arms shook, but he managed to hold firm against Ghazghkull.

"We take him together," Jaghatai grunted.

Shepard rose to her feet. "I'll go high, you go low."

The Khan was fast, faster than any being Shepard had ever met. Even Lelith seemed slow in comparison; it was like Jaghatai was in three places at once, avoiding every clumsy swing, and responding with five perfect blows of his own. The White Tiger was one of the finest swords ever created by human hands, held by one of the finest warriors to ever stride the battlefield. Armor plating didn't so much break as disintegrate under the Khan's onslaught, and oil mixed with blood as it leaked to the ground.

Though Shepard was not nearly as fast as the Warhawk, she took her pound of flesh. She flew around Ghazghkull's wild shooting, and then perched above his head like a bizarre bird. She used one hand to steady herself, and used the other to bring Liberator onto the Ork's skull; the adamantium technology replacing a good part of his head protected him from the worst of the blow, but few living creatures appreciate a powered hammer crashing into their skulls.

When Ghazghkull reached up to grab Shepard, Jaghatai used the opening to stab the Ork through his left arm. The wound wasn't large, when compared to the Ork's total mass, but it went deep, and blood poured out. Jaghatai wasn't quite fast enough to avoid Ghazgkhull's retaliatory swing of Mork's Roar, but rather than get his head caved in, he was simply knocked back. He spun and regained his balance in an instant, and was back in the fight just in time to see Shepard use the blade of Liberator to punch through Ghazghkull's bionic eye. This time, the Ork roared in genuine pain, and when he shook himself like a dog, he was able to dislodge her.

Jaghatai calculated exactly where he needed to be before Shepard hit the ground. He stepped onto the destroyed chassis of the Dreadnought Khârn had killed, and launched himself into the air. Ghazghkull had just enough time to look surprised before the Khan rammed his sword through his face. Jaghatai thought that it was over, but he blinked incredulously when the beast reached out for him with his massive klaw.

"By the steppes of Chogoris, just die," he snarled, and ripped the White Tiger free.

Shepard made a vague noise of agreement as she hurled Liberator the Ork's head, staggering him. Even before her weapon returned to her hand, she aimed her plasma pistol at a breached part of his armor, aimed, and fired over and over.

The two remaining Sororitas, who had been guarding the fallen Yarrick, took that time to add what little they could to the mix. Bolts tore chunks out of the Ork's flesh, and a stream of burning promethium caused unstable hydraulic fluids to detonate in small bursts. Ghazghkull staggered drunkenly, flailing about and firing bursts from his gun at nothing in particular.

He was already dead, but his body didn't know it yet.

Rather than wait to let his prey fall on his own, Jaghatai took it upon himself to make the beast stop. He rushed in, easily avoiding Gork's Klaw, and shoulder-checked Ghazghkull in the chest. Without his brain directing him, the Ork fell onto his back; Jaghatai jumped onto him, and used his prodigious strength to rip the front of the warlord's armor away. After a final swipe of the White Tiger, the Ork's head rolled free of his body.

Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka, the Prophet of the Waaagh!, the Beast of Armageddon, was finally dead.

If this had been story told by Imperial historians, the battle would have paused to witness such a momentous victory, but battle never stood on ceremony. There was no time to celebrate their victory, because a screaming mass of World Eaters nearly overran them. Only a last-second blast of Shepard's power staggered their charge, and a desperate charge from some mounted White Scars took them down.

"We need to kill Khârn!" Shepard yelled, straining to be heard over the sound of battle once again. "He's making them stronger!"

Jaghatai nodded, and searched for that traitorous son of a traitorous brother. It didn't take long to find him.

…

It was the duty of the Black Templars to hunt down all enemies of the Emperor. They swore solemn vows to kill every foe with equal fervor, but the most zealous sons of Dorn would be lying if they said they didn't hold a special place in their hearts for destroying the forces of Chaos above all others.

Even Grimaldus, who had become one of the most devoted Ork-hunters among his brothers in recent centuries, could not deny the holy urge to kill traitors. The chance to slay Khârn, one of the most infamous villains of the Horus Heresy, overrode even his personal vow to kill Ghazghkull.

Unfortunately for him, for all that he had faith and fury on his side, his skill in battle was nothing compared to Khârn's savagery. His crozius was nearly knocked from his hand several times, only saved by the chain that bound it to his wrist.

"Hrn…" Khârn swung his chainaxe in a wide arc, and mica-dragon teeth carved a scar in Grimaldus' breastplate. "Sigismund taught his whelps our ways. You would have been a good gladiator."

Grimaldus tuned out the traitor's words; he had neither the time nor the inclination to understand. Instead, he raised his plasma pistol, intending to fire at point-blank range. Khârn did the same, and both pulled the trigger at the same time. There was a flash, followed by agonizing pain; Grimaldus staggered back, his left arm vaporized from just below the shoulder. His only solace was that Khârn's right had suffered a similar fate.

"Hrn…" Khârn raised Gorechild in a salute. "That hurt. You've a worthy skull."

Grimaldus tensed, but then grinned behind his helm. "Come and take it, heretic."

Khârn immediately knew that something was wrong, and whirled; somehow, despite his missing arm, he was able to block the White Tiger before it pierced his primary heart. Only the blessings of Khorne prevented Jaghatai's superior weapon from shearing through the chainaxe.

"That is my brother's axe." Jaghatai kicked Khârn in the knee, shattering ceramite and bone. "Khârn. Eighth Assault Company Captain. You murdered many of your brothers, your cousins, and countless innocents. You will die for all of that."

Khârn, for his part, didn't care at all. This was his chance to claim the skull of a Primarch, the greatest prize he could offer his god, other than that of the False Emperor. He brought Gorechild up and to the side, allowing the Primarch's sword to cut across the back of his hand; it sliced him to the bone, but for a Space Marine, it was barely more than a superficial wound. That was a move he had perfected even before spitting on his oaths to the Emperor, and it had won him many a bout against opponents who were stronger than him.

Gorechild came up, aiming for the Khan's neck, but with only one arm, Jaghatai was able to catch the weapon by the haft with a free hand. Now it was Khârn who kicked out, and Jaghatai was openly surprised when the blow knocked him back a step. He had faced Astartes, even Primarchs, empowered by Chaos, but he had been displaced in time, and was still unused to it.

Perhaps Khârn might have been able to capitalize on his maneuver, had they been fighting alone, but that was not the case. Grimaldus reminded him of that when he smashed his crozius against his shoulder. Khârn's response was instinctive and brutal, using the momentum of the strike to spin and bury Gorechild into Grimaldus' own shoulder; armor shattered, and the Reclusiarch's remaining arm fell to the ground.

Then, Khârn felt a burning pain in his back, followed by numbing cold, as the White Tiger impaled him through the spine, and out through his chest. Jaghatai made no cry of victory, nor spoke a single boast. He simply ripped his sword free, and Khârn fell to his knees. Despite his spine being severed, he refused to let go of his axe, and even turned to face the Primarch.

"Blood…" he wheezed. "Blood… for the…"

"No more." Shepard walked over to the fallen champion, and calmly severed his hand at the wrist with Liberator. "It's over."

Khârn expected to see righteous fury in the woman's eyes, like he had before, but it was gone. Instead, all he saw was pity… perhaps even compassion. Shepard placed a glowing hand on his helm, and all at once, Khârn felt the strength of Khorne leave him. His armor shifted and groaned as the powers of Chaos burned away; instead of red and brass, the ceramite was now white and blue.

It could have been his imagination, or maybe delirium from death's approach, but he thought he heard a roar of a denied god in the distance.

"You are no longer connected to him," Shepard explained. Khârn wondered how he could hear such a soft voice, despite the raging battle barely held at bay by a circle of Imperials.

Khârn supposed that he should feel grateful, but though his corruption was gone, the accursed technology embedded in his brain continued to urge him to fight.

"The Nails…" he said, through a mouth full of blood. "Make them stop…"

Shepard nodded. "For everything you've done, you deserve to suffer, but it won't be at my hand. Wherever you end up, I'm sure you'll face judgment."

Khârn didn't have time to respond; Shepard simply raised her plasma pistol to his head and pulled the trigger. There was a flash of light, and at last, the Butcher's Nails were silent.

…

Without the unity created by their respective leaders, the Orks and World Eaters started fighting amongst themselves as much as the Imperium or each other. Some of the former fought to escape, but mostly they all just fought to assert their own dominance. That gave the Imperium time to reform their defensive line, and create order among their own ranks. Casualties were high, but they were no longer on the verge of routing.

Shepard had just begun to hope that they could outright win when the ground trembled under her. A spire collapsed as a massive construct of rusted steel rolled towards the Imperial line. It was almost a hundred meters tall, vaguely humanoid—in that it had a head and two arms, but with treads instead of legs—and covered in more guns than Shepard had ever seen mounted on a single vehicle.

The Gargant's presence rallied the Orks, who now started to crush the remaining World Eaters through sheer weight of numbers. By Shepard's estimate, the forces of Chaos would be destroyed by the time the Orks reached the Imperials, but she was no longer concerned about the World Eaters. There was simply nothing in her arsenal that could deal with a Gargant.

"I suppose this is it," she said glumly. "I was hoping we would get reinforcements before that happened."

"Agreed." Jaghatai scowled. "Cut down by Orks in a crumbling city… not a glorious death."

"I don't believe in glorious deaths," Shepard said. "I believe in a life well-lived."

The Khan raised an eyebrow. "And was your life lived well?"

Shepard's smile was tired and sad. "I think so. I left behind grandchildren and great-grandchildren who were all happy. That's all I really wanted, I guess—for everything I've been through to mean something for the people who came after me."

Jaghatai chuckled. "Then you, at least, will die well."

The Imperials braced themselves as the Gargant lowered its weapons at them, and each of them—mortal and Astartes alike—tried to make peace with their end. There was a roar of cannons…

But not from the Gargant, which rocked under a barrage of Titan-grade weaponry. Shepard whirled, and her grin threatened to split her face when she saw a pair of Warlord Titans stride into view. Vindicatio Aeterna sounded its war horn, and fired again; missiles slammed into the Gargant, followed by a dozen hits from its macro gatling blaster. The other Warlord, Thunder Lord, was armed similarly to its brother, but had two triple-barreled laser destroyer arrays instead of missile launchers, followed suit. The Gargant lost an arm, and then something exploded from within, and the entire machine was nearly torn in half. The rest of the Titans of Legio Atarus finished off the Gargant with sustained fire of their own.

It wasn't just Titans that came to the rescue. Eighteen regiments of the Armageddon Steel Legion, twenty regiments pledged to the Shepard Crusade, and the combined strength of the Reapers, Necropolis Hawks and Lamenters came charging in. Leading the entire force was none other than High Marshal Helbrecht, at the head of nearly two thousand Black Templars.

"Onward!" Helbrecht bellowed, holding the Sword of the High Marshal high. "Kill them all, in the God-Emperor's name!"

Many of the Black Templars, and the soldiers of Armageddon, echoed his words, but for the warriors of the Shepard Crusade, there was a different battle cry.

"IT SHALL BE DONE!"

"Huh." Shepard sat down on a broken piece of machinery. "I guess we're not dying after all."

…

The next few hours were a blur, as Shepard moved from one area of the battlefield to another. She did what she could to help, whether that was administering what first aid she could, or helping others recover the remains of fallen friends.

And there were many who had fallen. Of nearly six thousand Space Marines who had set foot on Fendatha, almost five hundred were dead; most of them were from the Black Templars, but the other three Chapters had suffered losses as well. That included Artin, whose death had hit Shepard particularly hard. She hadn't spent much time with him after he'd become a Dreadnought, but she still considered him a friend.

"His legacy will be remembered for as long as one Necropolis Hawk lives," Zandtus had promised. "He represented our Chapter during the fight on Prospero to recover the wayfinder, which led to the recovery of not only Lord Corax, but Lord Jonson as well. He fought at the side of Leman Russ, and played a part in bringing him back into the Imperium's fold. Few warriors can lay claim to such deeds."

Brol had also promised that Artin would be honored, for he had later learned that the former lieutenant had been in favor of letting the then-Dusk Raiders out of stasis on Auramus. He swore to Zandtus that the fallen Hawk would always have a place in the annals of the Reapers. For that, Zandtus would later gift the High Commander with Artin's power sword—the very same Brol had borrowed during the battle on Auramus.

"Our Chaplains have given it a name," Zandtus would tell him. "After some discussion, it was called Honor's Price."

Brol had accepted the gift, and swore to find a worthy champion to bear it into battle.

The Space Marines had suffered, but the Militarum had had it far worse. The death toll was catastrophic, with several regiments among the Steel Legion wiped out to a man. The numbers among the Shepard Crusade were still being tallied, but Shepard had grown sick when they'd reached over two hundred thousand. Only the artillery regiments had taken what could be considered 'light' casualties, but even then, they numbered in the hundreds as crews died defending their charges.

To Shepard's alarm, Commander Rand had been injured during the final hours of the battle, but had kept it from everyone until his sector was declared secure. An Ork shell had hit his tank, and sent a shard of metal nearly a meter long straight through his gut, pinning him to his chair. An Enginseer had been forced to use a plasma cutter to free him, and he had been rushed into surgery. He survived, but Shepard later found out that he'd had to be resuscitated on the operating table no less than four times. He remained in bad shape, but he was stable, and Shepard was assured that he would be up and walking in a month or so.

Of all her Crusade's major elements, the Order of the Iron Tears had taken the fewest relative casualties. Out of just over ten thousand Sororitas, less than four hundred were killed, though more than five times that were wounded to some degree. Shepard had received more than a few reports of minor miracles appearing around the Iron Tears; shot skipping across armor when they should have been lethal, enemy cover crumbling away at the last second, and displays of superhuman strength and speed. Blaise had declared that it was because of their unwavering faith, which only grew stronger as their souls were tempered in the God-Emperor's light.

Considering how often the Order was exposed to Shepard's power, it was possible she was on to something. Regardless, Rex had a team of priests meticulously recording every instance of divine intervention, both for the Order's posterity, and to reassure the Ecclesiarchy that the Shepard Crusade was even more righteous than ever.

Though most of Shepard's friends were celebrating their victory, one among them had been subdued. Dartan had been commanding the combined Imperial fleets for days, and was exhausted—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. By the time the Conqueror abruptly jumped into the Warp, over a thirty ships had been lost under his command, most of them with all hands; the combined death toll in space had reached well over a million souls.

It had been so bad that Shepard had asked for a day of rest and recovery for the war council before they had any further meetings. Ostensibly, it was for everyone's sake, but Shepard used that for her own sanity. Never before had so many people died in a single battle that she had officially led, and the thought of it nearly made her break down.

There was only one stop she had to make before she finally rested.

Amazingly, Yarrick was still alive, but his condition was beyond critical. Shepard had asked for the finest healers—medics, Sisters Hospitaller, or Space Marine Apothecaries—to see if there was any way to save his life. All of them had come back with the same result: that it was a miracle he had survived as long as he had, and that he was dying.

The Old Man was a ruin of his former self; most of his flesh had been torn away, and his organs damaged. No transfusion or surgery had any hope of taking; indeed, he would certainly die from the trauma of any procedure. The best anyone could do was numb his pain; he had refused to be offered a quick end, demanding that he die on his own terms.

"Saint… Shepard…" he gasped as Shepard entered the infirmary.

She was already covered in blood, so the crimson puddles she stepped through hardly bothered her at that point.

"I'm here, Commissar," she said gently. Normally, she would have put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but so much of his body was an open wound that it would have sent agony through even his pain-dulled senses.

"Tell me…" Yarrick wheezed. "Tell me the Beast is… is dead."

"He is," Shepard promised. "I watched Jaghatai Khan cut his head off." She paused, remembering that Ragnar Blackmane had done that not too long ago. "We destroyed his body, and burned the flesh from his skull; the Black Templars have decided to take it back to Armageddon."

"That is where… I wish to go as well." Yarrick coughed, and blood spurted from ruptured veins. "I spent my life defending… that world. I would have… my body laid to rest there."

"I'm sure Helbrecht will oblige." Shepard gave him the kindest smile she could, though she wasn't sure he could even see anymore. "You did it, Sebastien. You don't have to fight anymore."

Yarrick was quiet for a long moment, and Shepard started to wonder if he had died then and there.

"Thank… you…" Yarrick smiled with what was left of his face. "I outlived you… beast…

"I… win."

With a last, ragged breath, the Old Man of Armageddon passed away.

…

The leaders of the Shepard Crusade met with those of the joint Templar-Militarum army, as well as Jaghatai Khan, the next day. The mood was somber, even before Shepard walked into the command center. Like all of them, she had taken the time to clean her armor, and looked much more presentable.

"I'll start with the bad news," Shepard said without preamble. "You've probably heard by now, but Commissar Yarrick died of his injuries last night."

Most of those present already knew, but it was still a blow; one of the Steel Legion officers excused himself before he completely broke down.

Shepard continued. "Hadrian, it might be presumptuous of me, but I'd like to have him posthumously named a Saint. Would my word help with that?"

Rex smiled tiredly. "The endorsement of one of the most important Saints in the Imperium? I would say that your word would go a long way towards speeding up the process."

"Good. If anyone deserves that kind of praise, it's him." Shepard took a deep breath. "How are the mop-up operations coming along?"

"The last pockets of World Eaters were slaughtered several hours ago," Zandtus reported.

"There are Orks scattered all over the planet, but without Ghazghkull to unite them, their fleet has broken and fled in all directions," Helmin said. "We are hounding the xenos everywhere we find them, preventing them from gathering together into a sizeable force once again."

Helbrecht stood up. "Between our two Crusades, I believe this world will be cleansed in a matter of days."

"That's good to hear." Shepard paused. "How is Reclusiarch Grimaldus?"

"Badly injured, but he will live," Helbrecht assured her. "I imagine that he will be able to say farewell to you before you depart."

"At least one hero of Armageddon survived," Phoros commented.

"And one of the Imperium's most notorious traitors did not." Helbrecht smiled grimly. "Khârn was a rallying point for others like him, giving them direction and some semblance of purpose. The Archenemy has suffered a great blow."

"I'm sure you'll capitalize on that," Shepard said. "However, my mission is to get the Khan back to Ultramar. I think Lord Guilliman is looking forward to meeting with another of his brothers."

Jaghatai, who had been content to listen and observe, frowned. "What are you talking about? Are you implying that those of us who remained loyal are… missing?"

"Most were," Shepard explained. "Guilliman was in stasis up until about two hundred years ago, but the rest of the Primarchs vanished, including you. We've been able to find Lords Corax, Jonson and Russ over the last few years, and now, you."

Jaghatai considered that. He had encountered some of his sons from the late forty-first millennium through his travels in the Webway, but to him, time had moved so fast that he could only manage a few snatches of conversation. There was much he needed to know, and if the Imperium's situation was anything like Fendatha's had been, there was little time to learn.

Shepard seemed to sense where his thoughts were going—and if she had done something similar with other Primarchs, she likely did—and smiled. "Don't worry, we've created a primer for you to get at least the gist of what's happened since you've been gone. Lord Guilliman should be able to fill you in on what he needs, once you've recovered and rejoined your Chapter."

Jaghatai raised an eyebrow. "Between the warriors I have with me, and those of the rest of the ordu, will Roboute not be upset that I have more than a thousand White Scars to bring to battle?"

Shepard laughed. "I really don't think he cares about that anymore. He just needs everyone he can to get out there and kill the bad guys."

"Things must be dire indeed." Jaghatai smirked. "I would have expected him to lead with more… pomp."

"He's been leading one campaign after another nonstop for two hundred years," Shepard pointed out. "Up until recently, he's basically been doing the job of every Primarch by himself."

Jaghatai looked unexpectedly ashamed. "Meanwhile, I was chasing the Drukhari that had attacked my home. I neglected my duties in the pursuit of vengeance."

Shepard shrugged. "That happened right after the Siege of Terra, right? You'd… been through a lot, I can imagine. Plus, to you, not a lot of time has passed."

"I thought… I thought I was in the Webway for only a few weeks, and then I met some of my sons from this modern era. I then searched for a way out, and then we arrived here." The Khan took a breath. "I will meet with my brother. There will be much to do, and honor demands that the Imperium's foes be run down."

"I like him," Brol said suddenly.

Shepard grinned at him. "Yeah, so do I." She held up a dataslate. "All right, let's see about these logistics so that we can all get out of here."

…

"Sisters, may I join you?"

Josephine and Katarin turned away from the empty caskets bearing their squadmates' names, and saw their Canoness Superior standing behind them.

"Of course, Canoness," Katarin said, her head bowed.

Blaise kept her gaze impassive as she looked over the caskets. "Sister Agatha. I will mourn her passing. She was as reliable as they come."

"We will miss her as well," Josephine said. "She was an excellent teacher."

Blaise nodded. "I have heard that you two were at Saint Shepard's side during the climax of the battle."

"We did little to help," Katarin said, but Blaise shook her head.

"That does not matter. Saint Shepard has always fought hardest when defending those she cares for, and she considers all Sisters of our Order to be 'her girls'. Had she failed against the Ork or the heretic, they would have gone after you. Her Holiness has always hated not being able to save everyone, and your lives motivated her to triumph. You lessened the burden she carries, and for that, I thank you."

"We would do anything for her," Josephine blurted out.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. If that is the case, I will recommend you for additional training. Palatine Rychelle has requested that a squad be formed from survivors of other squads; you will train alongside her, and be part of her personal retinue."

The younger Sororitas shared a look of surprise, but both nodded at the Canoness Superior. They were still inexperienced, but both had quickly learned that those in the Shepard Crusade didn't stay that way for long.

"When will we meet the rest of this new squad?" Katarin asked.

"Tomorrow," Blaise said. "From what Rychelle has told me, the training she intends to implement will be harsh, and may separate you from the rest of your Preceptory for some time. Once you are done here, gather what you need before joining your palatine at the command-chapel in the morning."

With her piece said, Blaise turned and left. The younger Sisters remained with the bodies for several minutes, lost in thought.

"I think I will prepare now," Josephine said after several minutes. "Do you wish to remain here?"

"For a little longer," Katarin decided. "I will meet you in the barracks. If you can, bring me a few extra magazines for my bolter."

"I will try to make room, but I'll be carrying quite a bit of promethium," Josephine half-joked; she patted her sister's shoulder, and then left.

With some free time, Josephine didn't immediately head to the armory. Instead, she wandered the camp, occasionally exchanging brief words with the handful of Sisters or regular Guardsmen in her path. Her mere presence in the final battle against both Ghazghkull and Khârn had earned her some prestige, though she wasn't sure how to react to it.

As the sun set, she spotted a familiar figure in black Stygies robes. "Enginseer Tia, it's good to see you again."

Tia turned—first with just her head, then followed by the rest of her body. "Recognition: Sister Josephine. Joyous exclamation: Praise the Omnissiah for your survival. The odds of continued existence after combat with Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka and Extremis-grade heretic Khârn are extremely low."

Josephine smiled. "Fortunately, the enemy was more focused on Saint Shepard and Jaghatai Khan."

Tia nodded stiffly. "Comprehension: The presence of a Living Saint and Primarch is a variable I did not calculate."

"I won't tell anyone if you won't," Josephine said, then remembered what she'd been doing. "I apologize, Tia, but I'm headed for my Order's nearest armorium. I have to get some ammunition for my friend and I before we begin our new assignment."

"Understanding: The power of forward momentum must not be interrupted. The Motive Force demands eternal progress. Query: May I inspect your weapon? I have never had the opportunity to perform blessed maintenance on Sororitas equipment."

Josephine didn't see the harm, and held out her flamer. Tia took the weapon in her hands and slowly looked over it with her glowing optic. A small vox at the base of her throat squeaked in binharic cant, and then she returned the flamer.

"Announcement: Your weapon is properly blessed and maintained. The machine-spirit is reliable, and ever-ready to fight."

"It's served me well so far, and I do my best to make sure it knows how much I appreciate it."

Tia's gaze lingered on the flamer. "Remarkable. Admission: I have heard that Saint Shepard values the works of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and demands the highest treatment of the blessed machines."

Josephine thought back to what she'd learned of her beloved Matriarch. "She does like weapons."

"Reluctant admission: The construction and maintenance of weapons is something I am also fascinated by." Josephine had never seen a bashful Tech-Priest before now. "I know I should devote my energies equally between all holy machines, but weapons seem to be a primary focus for me."

"Maybe you could request a transfer?" Josephine suggested. "Many among my Order seem to do their own maintenance, but a few Tech-Priests assisting us would speed up some of our preparations."

Tia blinked. "Concerned interjection: Would that be permissible?"

"I… have no idea," Josephine admitted. "I could ask. If it is, suggest that only your female peers petition for the role."

"Understanding: I will take that variable into account, assuming you receive positive acknowledgment."

Josephine smiled. "If it is, you'll be the first person I take my weapons to."

Tia hesitated, and then smiled back.

…

Shepard waited for a long time before going to see Jaghatai. She had wondered how she should approach this, but eventually decided to just be direct and honest; she figured that the Khan would appreciate that.

It took an unusual amount of time for the White Scars to let her through their security. Perhaps she was used to the respect the Ultramarines had for her, the camaraderie of the Space Wolves, or the subtle adoration from the Raven Guard and their successors, but the White Scars didn't know her, nor did they know how much blood had been spilled to find their Primarch.

As such, they were suspicious of her request for a private audience with Jaghatai, and a few were outright hostile. That had outraged the Alexian Guard, and had nearly sparked a fight between them; Shepard wasn't sure who would have won, considering the Alexian Guard also had a pair of Custodes with them.

Thankfully, the Khan himself was there to calm his aggressive sons, and invited Shepard to speak with him alone.

"You will have to forgive them," Jaghatai said as he sat down on a pile of rubble. "They are very protective of me."

Shepard was about to sit down, but noticed a large patch of dried blood, and chose a different piece of debris to sit on. "I think that's been the case for every Primarch I've met, but you guys seem more than capable of handling yourselves."

Jaghatai smirked. "Is that what you tell your own protectors?"

"Okay, yeah, you got me there." Shepard looked away, at the half-destroyed spires that many units were using as base camps. "I didn't have a chance to ask you before, what with a war going on, but there's another reason why I was looking for you."

Jaghatai tilted his head. "Oh?"

Shepard pressed one finger against her temple. "The Emperor… He talks to me, usually when I'm asleep, or if I get killed."

"My apologies for that," the Khan cut in smoothly.

"Eh, I'm not mad." Shepard smiled. "Anyway, the Emperor thinks that you found something in the Webway. Something important for the Imperium, but also for me. I wanted to know—did you find something? Anything at all, even if it seems trivial."

Jaghatai was silent for a moment; he then dug into a pouch at his waist, and pulled something out. It was small, especially compared to the hand it rested in; it was a simple wristband, with a metal and plastic stick, barely an inch long, extending from one part.

To most, it would have looked like a bland, even ugly, little knickknack. For Shepard, it was a blast from the past.

"That's impossible," she said, once her ability to speak returned. "How is that here?"

"I do not even know what it is," Jaghatai said. "I do not know how long ago I found it. My sons and I found a place of refuge in the Webway; we used it briefly, then continued our pursuit of the Drukhari. It was during that rest that I found this bauble, resting around the wrist of a human skeleton."

Shepard's heart was racing. "Can you tell me anything about the skeleton?"

"I did not examine it closely," the Khan admitted. "It wore armor that I did not recognize, and was badly damaged by both battle and time. Judging from the way it was sculpted, I believe it was female."

Shepard slipped the band around her wrist and tapped the tab with a shaking finger. To her surprise, it still worked, and an orange segmented hologram formed around her forearm. Though it had been decades since she'd used an omni-tool, she managed to access it easily enough to find out who it belonged to. It was a good thing she was sitting, because all the strength left her; her vision blurred, and it took her a moment to realize she was crying.

"Ashley Williams," she whispered. "You found the body of Ashley Williams."

Jaghatai raised an eyebrow. "Judging by your reaction, you know who that is."

"She's… she was my friend. How did she even get here? That's not possible!" Shepard wiped her eyes and examined the omni-tool's files; to her surprise, its data storage was completely full. "Whatever her omni-tool scanned was important enough for the Emperor make recovering it a top priority."

"The Emperor does not send one on a quest for idle trinkets," Jaghatai mused. "I wonder what your friend discovered."

Shepard was about to speak, but alarms began to blare across the hive; both leaders were on their feet in an instant, and their guards rushed to them.

"What's going on?" Shepard demanded.

"An alert came in from the fleets," Carolya reported. "Another Chaos armada has entered the system, much closer than the last. They arrived practically in orbit. Our ships are already scrambling to meet them in battle, but it will be a difficult fight."

"Why's that?" Shepard asked.

Carolya was grim. "The enemy fleet is being led by a Blackstone Fortress."

Okay, a lot going on in this chapter. Ghazghkull is dead, Kharn is dead, Yarrick is dead, and Grimaldus lost both his arms. Oh, and Jaghatai reveals not only what was so important to the Emperor, but also a personal revelation for Shepard. How did Ash end up in the Webway? What's on her omni-tool that's so important? Who knows? Well, I do, but Shepard's gonna have to wait, because Chaos just had to rudely interrupt.

You might be disappointed by how the fights ended, but let's be reasonable. Ghaz is powerful, there's no denying that. However, it is my belief that the Khan is the best Primarch to fight him in personal combat. He's anime-protagonist fast, even when not on a bike. Ghaz is strong and would require a great deal of punishment to kill, but he's not the Beast. Plus, Jaghatai had Shepard helping him out. And the battle against Kharn proves that Shepard is the best person to fight Chaos. At least she almost brought him back to pre-Heresy Kharn, severed his connection to Khorne, and granted him the mercy of a quick death.

As always, please consider buying my book, Alpha Sanction, by Josh Gottlieb. You can find it on my website (link in my profile), or on Amazon as an eBook or physical copy. Sales help motivate me to continue writing the sequel, which I have unfortunately hit a wall on. I'll get through it eventually, but writer's block sucks.

If you don't want another book to read, but still want to support me, I have a P-atreon page (link in my profile). Donations help me afford a place to live, and I'd love to make enough there to let me quit one of my three jobs.

I'd like to thank the following patrons for just being awesome:

Serious Muffins: Nimrod009, Anders Lyngbye, Matthias Matanovic, John Collins, Red Bard, Aaron Meek, killroy225, Lokthar, Hakuryuken

Incredible Muffins: RaptorusMaximus, michaelb958, Crazyman844, Ben Stueckle

Ultra Muffins: RangersRoll, Adam Costello

Next Chapter: Ghosts of the past continue to haunt Shepard…

For the God-Muffin!