MASS EFFECT DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. WARHAMMER DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. AFTER AN EMBARASSING INCIDENT WITH A HOMEMADE CHAINSWORD, I HAVE DECIDED TO LEAVE SUCH THINGS TO THE PROFESSIONALS.

I have to say, fighting Necrons sucks, both in lore and the tabletop. I've never come close to beating them, regardless of edition. I imagine that, if the Necrons were at the height of their power in the lore, my frustration would be felt by everyone in the galaxy… followed by mind-numbing terror.

Star-Bound

Chapter 41

Slayers

Hiral moved from squad to squad, holding the Shepard Banner high to bolster the spirits of the men and women about fight the tide of xenos machines. Wherever he went, the Guard cheered, and their aim steadied; Hiral knew that fighting within sight of Saint Shepard's personal heraldry was almost as invigorating as fighting within sight of Saint Shepard herself. He was proud to carry such a prestigious relic of the Crusade, and humbled that a mere man such as him was chosen as its bearer.

Occasionally, Necron forces would launch assaults on the Imperial line, but the First-Blooded were on the field in their entirety. Even the durability of the Necrons couldn't withstand so much concentrated firepower, and with the First-Blooded anchoring the line, the rest of the Shepard Crusade held their ground.

The Necrons weren't fools, despite Imperial propaganda decrying all xenos as little more than beasts. They realized that the First-Blooded were the lynchpin to the Militarum forces, and focused their efforts on breaking them, which was why Hiral volunteered to keep up morale.

"Good to see you in the field again, Trooper," Colonel Klinner greeted as Hiral stepped into the shadow of her Chimera. "You know, I've heard it said by some of in my regiment that you're the luckiest man to come from Vigilus."

"I don't know about that, Colonel." Hiral raised his bionic arm. "I'm sure someone has had a life like mine, but has all four of his limbs."

Klinner smirked. "Don't get smart with me. Banner or not, I still outrank you."

Hiral immediately saluted. "Yes, ma'am!"

Despite the professionalism, Hiral liked the colonel; they both started in the Vigilant Guard, and both were pious believers in both the God-Emperor and Saint Shepard. If anything, Klinner reminded Hiral of his mother, if she had been a soldier with enough scars to impress a Catachan Jungle Fighter.

"Since you're so intent on helping out, I'd like you to join up with one of the companies rotating back to the front." Klinner pointed to an officer not too far away. "They'll make sure you get to your next round safely."

"Much appreciated, Colonel." Hiral waited until he was dismissed, but before he left, he held out the Shepard Banner, his eyes granting permission.

Klinner blinked in surprise, but smiled and briefly touched the silver cord around the pole of the banner. It was an unspoken rule that only Hiral could actually carry the Shepard Banner, and the fabric of the banner itself was only touched during certain ceremonies, but it was considered a blessing to be allowed to touch the silver cord. Hiral made it a point to allow two people in every squad he passed by to touch it—the bravest, as a reward, and the one most likely to waver, to bolster their resolve and prevent a panic. It was rare for him to offer it to officers, especially the high-ranking ones like Klinner, simply because they didn't need the boost.

But Klinner was one of the leaders of the First-Blooded—she had fought with Saint Shepard since the start of the Crusade, was in her circle of trust, and was considered a personal friend. If anyone deserved to place their hands on such an icon, it was her.

"Thank you." Klinner placed her fingers on the cord with a lover's touch, then brought her hand back to wipe her tears. "It's rare for someone like me to touch such a holy relic."

"Saint Shepard herself has praised the First-Blooded for following her into hell and back," Hiral said. "We might not be Space Marines or Sororitas, but we have mortal courage, and Saint Shepard has said that that is a power unlike any other."

Klinner grinned fiercely, and Hiral could see the fire in her eyes. "Then I think I'll talk to the other commanders and see if we can't advance a little. We can show these xenos machines what mortal courage really looks like."

…

Zandtus waited with a patience that would make Corvus Corax himself proud. He could have taken his shot earlier, but the chance of his attack deflecting off a metal skull was too high for his liking. He just needed his target to turn a few more degrees—there!

The bolt shell exited the barrel with a suppressed hiss, and flew straight into the optic of the Necron commander. The explosion took the right half of its skull off in a shower of metal fragments; it staggered, reached for what was left of its head with a twitching hand, and then collapsed.

Zandtus' part of the hunt was a success, but he wasn't alone; moving on the signal of his shot, the entire Second Company of the Necropolis Hawks rose from cover and opened fire on the Necrons. Hellblasters poured waves of plasma into Necron walkers armed with enormous cannons, while Intercessors and Incursors put pinpoint shots into alien infantry. A pair of Invictor Warsuits—essentially stripped-down Dreadnoughts that didn't require a pilot to be mortally injured—moved with surprising speed to destroy a floating transport, and then gunned down another squad of Necrons with withering fire from their many weapons.

In less than two minutes, the ambush was over; several Necropolis Hawks were injured from return fire, and one was dead, but the amount of enemies destroyed was considered well worth it. Zandtus wished he could take a trophy or two to commemorate the victory, but the dead Necrons quickly faded out of existence, just like they always did.

At least his new bolt rifle worked well, he noted, and examined the weapon for a moment. It had a longer barrel than most of its kind, and was similar to a bolt sniper rifle, but more compact than those weapons. The artificer-quality rifle was called Surefire; according to the Techmarines who had labored over it, the machine spirit of the weapon preferred its targets to be important leaders. Zandtus was happy to give it as many of those as he could manage.

An Intercessor sergeant approached and put a fist over his chest. "My Lord, we've received contact with Saint Shepard's force. They are on the move once again."

"Then we must hurry to keep her flank secure." Zandtus checked that Surefire had plenty of ammunition. "Let us find the next Necron force and keep them out of her way."

…

Josephine raised her voice, joining her sisters in singing hymns of righteous vengeance as they marched on the Necron base before them. Unclean xenos spires emerged from the ground, only to be bombarded by rockets and melta-fire, and Necrons that rose to fight them were gunned down by thousands of bolts or waves of fire. The alien technology wasn't at full power, but it was still potent, and dozens of Sororitas were slain, but this only fueled their zeal, and they pushed forward with greater fervor.

"Observation: Fascinating," Tia said as she watched the destroyed Necron technology vanish. "There is much the Adeptus Mechanicus could learn from this."

"You would admire these xenos?" Josephine asked, aghast.

Tia shook her head. "Clarification: It is not the aliens that are fascinating, but the aspects of reality that they have mastered. They have hoarded such knowledge for eons, but it will belong to humanity. We will utilize it more wisely than the xenos."

Josephine considered that; one-upping the aliens wasn't something a Sororitas normally did, but assuring humanity's supremacy had been a goal of the God-Emperor since the hallowed days of the Great Crusade. With that in mind, Tia's goal was acceptable, though Josephine would leave such things to her friend; she was more concerned with destroying the aliens before her.

Katarin pulled her war-pick from the fading remains of a Necron and looked at her new arm with surprise. "This is working far better than I thought it would. My thanks, Tia."

"Pleased: You are most welcome, Sister Katarin." Tia visibly twitched. "Alert: Stygies VIII reinforcements will arrive in two-point-eight minutes."

Sure enough, ground and air transports arrived, bearing hundreds of Skitarii, while a long column of battle-servitors and robots trundled behind. The tracked form of Xem-Beta emerged from one of boxy transports that skimmed across the ground; he surveyed the nearby Sororitas and awkwardly nodded, as if he didn't quite remember social niceties. When he saw Tia, he approached, looming over the young Tech-Priest.

"Theta-Iota-Alphus," he said, his tone completely flat, "the knowledge you have gleaned from the xenos has been catalogued. You are to be commended."

Josephine realized that this conversation was for the benefit of those not initiated into the Cult Mechanicus; otherwise, Xem-Beta would have spoken in the binharic cant of his kind. It was a sign of respect, as far as she could tell.

Tia bowed her head. "Humility: I am grateful to aid the Quest for Knowledge in any way I am able, Archmagos."

Xem-Beta nodded again, and drove off; the rest of the Mechanicus force moved in eerie synchronization. Some moved to secure samples for further study—because no one else could be trusted to handle xenos artifacts—or to join the Sororitas in destroying the Necrons with sustained fire.

"How long before you end up looking like him?" Katarin asked, and Tia blinked in surprise.

"Uncertain: If I attain the same attunement with the blessed machine, my form could be completely different than Archmagos Xem-Beta. I could look the same as I do now, or my mind could be placed in a cogitator bank."

"I'd prefer the first option, it's much more attractive," Josephine blurted out. Her face went as red as Tia's armor when she realized what she'd said. "I'm going to go kill more xenos now."

Tia was still processing that as a laughing Katarin followed her friend; had she been an unaugmented human, she would have been too distracted to notice Xem-Beta contacting her.

"I am at your service, Archmagos," she said in binharic cant.

"Liaise with the Sororitas and inform them of a new development," Xem-Beta ordered. "Our fleet has detected new ships entering the system. We have identified them as the xenos called Kin."

It took Tia a fraction of a second to bring up what precious little she knew of the mysterious aliens. "We are far from the galactic core."

"Which is why this is particularly concerning. Be prepared for anything, young one."

…

"All right, thanks for keeping me informed, Xem." Shepard checked the charge on her plasma pistol as she talked. "I'll tell everyone here; see you later."

"Bad news, I take it?" Torlim asked. "It is usually bad news."

Shepard sighed. "Well, Dartan reported that a whole new fleet just arrived in-system. Some aliens called the 'Kin'. You ever hear about them?"

Torlim had his helm on, but Shepard could imagine him frowning in thought. "I was hypno-indoctrinated with at least basic knowledge of all of mankind's foes. I recall very little about any xenos called 'Kin', only that they are small in stature, and that their weapons are stolen from Imperial designs."

"Great, so we don't know anything about them, including why they're here." Shepard grimaced. "As if the Necrons weren't bad enough. Dartan said these guys will be in orbit in a few hours. How far until we reach our objective?"

"The Forgefather said that we are close," Torlim said. "He claimed that he could feel the fire of his Primarch."

"You know, when I was a lot younger, I would have said he was crazy, but after everything I've seen, I'm going to take that at face value." Shepard glanced at the combined force and took in their status. "We've got enough supplies for at least one major battle, but after that, we're going to need some help."

"I would normally say that we should only need enough for that battle, but I have learned not to tempt fate."

Shepard grinned up at him. "I knew you guys would finally learn that lesson."

Torlim chuckled. "Considering how often things have gone wrong, it was not a hard lesson to learn."

The rest of the strike force took the news of another potential enemy with a mix of weary acceptance and grim humor. The Salamanders in particular saw the Kin as only a potential problem; if they never got in the way of their quest, then they were a foe to be destroyed later.

After delivering the news, Shepard focused on the Necron base that lay between them and the Unbound Flame. The artifact intrigued her, simply because nobody had any idea what it did, or even what it looked like. What she did know was that the Salamanders were convinced that obtaining all of Vulkan's artifacts would lead to the Primarch's return.

Shepard wasn't so sure about that; apparently, more than a few prophecies had been achieved early, or outright stopped in recent decades. It reminded her of the name the Lizardmen of Lustria had given her; Kroak had called her the Fate-Breaker, one who had upended every destiny on the path to her own.

She just hoped that if she did it again, things would work out.

…

Dartan read through the latest report, while glancing at the tactical display near his command throne. The Kin vessels were getting close enough to get detailed images of the fleet heading towards his ships. Most of them were squat, ugly things that bristled with weapons and armor; there was little ornamentation, just pure functionality. If they didn't belong to filthy xenos, he might have approved, because it meant the crews spent more time actually running the ships, rather than polish murals all day.

Unless they were murals to the Emperor, of course. He would personally shoot anyone who failed to show proper respect to the Master of Mankind.

Still, the alien ships were concerning; if the readouts were correct, even the smallest of the warships had the armor and weapons of an Imperial vessel twice their size. However, he could tell that they were slower than their Imperial counterparts, though there was a smooth grace to their movements that banished any doubt that they weren't alien.

Part of him wanted to attack the xenos immediately, but the years spent with Saint Shepard had taught him the value of pragmatism. If the Kin had no intention of fighting the humans, then as long as their interests didn't conflict with the Shepard Crusade, they would be left alone.

"High Admiral, we've detected additional power spikes on the surface," an officer reported. "More alien structures are rising from underground."

"Are they anywhere near friendly forces?" Dartan asked.

"Negative, sir."

"Then divert a battlegroup to target those locations with lance strikes," he ordered. "We will not allow the aliens to expand their foothold."

While his officers carried out his commands, Dartan kept a wary eye on the approaching Kin fleet. He wouldn't make any aggressive moves, but he would be foolish to give the xenos the same opportunity.

…

Shepard let her wings vanish for a moment, and gravity reasserted its will upon her long enough for her to avoid a beam of energy that would have cut her in two. With practiced ease, she landed on top of the alien walker that had fired at her and began smashing Liberator into its cannon. The war machine tried to throw her off, but she wrapped one arm around one of its secondary guns to remain in place; suitably distracted, the vehicle was brought down when a pair of Custodes in their Allarus-pattern Terminator armor hacked its legs off with their massive axes. A Dreadnought in Salamander colors crushed its head as it stomped by.

With one small part of the battle over, Shepard took a moment to take stock of the situation. The base they'd been heading to was in sight, but a small outpost had risen from the ground practically right in front of them, which had led to a rapid assault from the Imperial forces, to prevent the Necrons from fully awakening. Considering that most of the attacking force was made of two hundred Space Marines and fifty Custodes, the battle was already almost over.

Despite having so many advantages, the Necrons were still a dangerous foe; two Salamanders were dead, as were three Necropolis Hawks. Also, in what felt like a stab to Shepard's heart, one of the Alexian Guard had fallen; only her sword and the hand that held it remained, the rest vaporized by the very walker Shepard had helped to destroy.

Carolya knelt to pick up the fallen blade. "She served well. Her sword will find another worthy wielder soon enough."

"I hope so." Shepard glanced at the Necron base in the distance. "These distractions are starting to annoy me. We need to find that relic before too many Necrons wake up."

"We are not far from that foul infestation," Carolya said. "It will not take us long to reach it."

"And we'll have a hell of a fight once we get there." Shepard sighed. "I've been here for less than a day, and I already hate this planet."

"I would suggest we burn this entire world in holy fire, but the Mechanicus might raise a fuss." Carolya shrugged. "I do not really care, but we do not have time to deal with their grievances."

"We'll leave while they're busy dissecting the alien robots anyway," Shepard said. "I'd hate to interrupt their fun."

"To befoul themselves by touching xenos machines…"

"Look at it this way: they're learning the best way to kill them," Shepard offered.

Carolya grimaced. "I still do not like it."

Shepard let the matter drop when she saw He'stan approach. "Please tell me something bad didn't just happen."

"I cannot be certain," the Forgefather said. "I sense the presence of the relic, but something is stopping me from being more precise. That… has not happened before."

Shepard was sorely tempted to make a joke, but the genuine worry in He'stan's voice gave her pause. Anything that made a Space Marine concerned was cause for concern for her.

"Do you have any idea what this Unbound Flame actually does?" she asked instead. "From my experience, anything made by a Primarch has got to be powerful."

He'stan shook his head. "Some of the relics were all but erased from history, save for their names, but the Unbound Flame is believed to be either a weapon, or a source of power."

"No offense, but I hope we didn't come all this way just for a glorified battery." Shepard frowned. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad we're getting it, but a battery feels… underwhelming."

He'stan chuckled. "I can see how you would think that, but I would shatter this entire world for even the smallest fragment of Lord Vulkan's artifice."

Shepard didn't reply; as much as she had come to understand Space Marines, she couldn't quite grasp how devoted they could be to their Primarchs. She couldn't comprehend destroying an entire world for what could be a piece of trash. Then again, she had helped Belegar Ironhammer reclaim his ancestral home of Karak Eight Peaks, and that place had been almost completely destroyed.

Thinking back on her previous life brought up memories of old friends. Most of them were long dead, especially since more time had passed in that universe than this one. Only some of her Elf and Dwarf friends would still be alive now—and Khalida, but she was undead, so calling her 'alive' wasn't exactly accurate.

With a scowl, Shepard pushed aside those thoughts; she would feel better when she found something to fight.

…

Helmin watched impassively as aides and junior officers coordinated the efforts of the Shepard Crusade. Most of their tasks were able to be carried out without his direct oversight; his task was to see the bigger picture, and make decisions that could affect the lives of tens of thousands. As much as he respected Saint Shepard, he didn't know if she could carry out this task; she cared too much for the soldiers under her command to send them to their deaths in the numbers required by the grim calculus of war. That wasn't to say that Helmin didn't care about the lives in his hands, but he understood that some victories could only be paid for in blood. He knew that Saint Shepard would rather pay with hers, but Helmin also knew that her life was far more valuable than anyone else in the Crusade. If he had to sacrifice an entire regiment to ensure Shepard's success, he would do so without hesitation.

"Have the First-Blooded advance three kilometers north," he ordered. "Once there, they are to hold position until more armored regiments can secure their flanks."

"Sir, won't the First-Blooded be exposed?" an officer asked.

"For a short while, but their position will draw out the xenos from that area." Helmin looked at his available forces. "Divert the Ninth and Tenth Bomber Wings to cover their approach. Their orders are to bomb the ridge in grid four-niner-eight-one to dust."

"Understood, sir." The officer passed along Helmin's orders with gusto; it wasn't every day a geographical feature was erased, after all.

While that happened, Helmin continued to evaluate the battle. The Necrons were still waking up, and as such, they were relying on more clumsy and obvious strategies. Helmin assumed that they were doing so to buy time for their leadership to activate and take command. However, while the Imperial forces had an advantage in coordination and maneuverability, the Necrons' technology was so far beyond what the humans could bring to bear. Even the most basic of Necron units could annihilate entire platoons of Guardsmen with ease; the only way Helmin could offset those losses was knowing that he still had far more resources to work with.

Yes, it is a good thing Saint Shepard is not in my position.

…

Shepard felt a hand grab her ankle; she looked down to see a Necron Warrior dragging itself out of the ground. She turned its head into molten slag with a point-blank shot from her plasma pistol, and kicked away what was left.

Around her, more Necrons pulled themselves from the tombs below the Imperial force. The Space Marines and Custodes reacted with typical transhuman speed; the Necrons were quickly torn apart by guns, blades, and even fists and feet. The fight was over in moments, but the battle had only just begun; close as they were to their objective, the Salamanders all but broke ranks as they assaulted the Necron base. Melta weapons punched through armor, and flamers melted vulnerable components; a Redemptor Dreadnought pummeled a group of three-legged Necrons that had replaced their hands with long, curved blades that cut deep into the half-dead Astartes, even as they were destroyed. The Necropolis Hawks followed after, without the desperation of their cousins; they even took advantage of the Salamanders' ferocity by finishing off the units that had been smashed through. The Custodes fought alongside them, moving at a speed and precision no human could ever hope to match.

Shepard flew above the battle with the Alexian Guard, looking for the best moment to strike; she found it when a Necron that towered over the others strode towards the fighting. Its armor was more ornate than the others, and it carried a long glaive in one hand; a handful of other elite-looking Necrons flanked it, bearing shields and glowing blades. Shepard pointed them out to Torlim and Darius over the vox, and then dove. Bolt rifles peppered the elite Necrons, chipping away at living metal, but none of them fell; it did pin them down for crucial seconds, which was all Shepard and the Custodes needed to reach them.

Darius' sword cleaved through one Necron, and them impaled a second in less time that it took Shepard to blink. All around the Shield-Captain, the other Custodes hammered away at the advanced Necrons, and though they were winning, Shepard had never seen them fight so hard; these Necrons were tougher than anything she had seen, save for the strongest Terminator, and their hyper-advanced minds were able to keep up with the Custodes. The only reason they lost was because they were outnumbered by warriors who weren't still waking up.

The only exception was the leader; it was bigger and more ornate than any Necron Shepard had seen thus far. Its head was decorated with a flaring crest, and its eyes burned with inhuman intelligence; just its presence made the Necrons around it fight with greater skill, to the point that some Custodes were starting to get pushed back. The leader-machine wasn't just a commander; to Shepard's shock, it dueled three Custodes at once with almost casual ease, and only a desperate leap back saved one from being decapitated.

Still, even the Overlord's skill at arms couldn't save it forever. One Custodian stabbed it through the leg, and another got in close enough to nearly tear its head off with a punch. Shepard could see it start to self-repair, so she took careful aim with her plasma pistol, and nearly severed its arm at the elbow with a well-placed shot. The sudden damage made the Overlord pause just long enough for the Custodes to hack it to pieces.

More Imperial forces flooded into the breached defenses, and without the Overlord to guide them, the Necrons couldn't contain them. After almost an hour of hard fighting, the base was taken. Shepard watched as teams of Necropolis Hawks and Custodes began to systematically destroy the alien structures, but she was bemused at how the Salamanders tore apart one particular area with almost desperate fervor.

"Did you find something?" Shepard asked Agatone as she approached.

"The Forgefather claims to have located the Unbound Flame," Agatone said with awe in his voice. "It is buried just beneath the surface."

"We're lucky the Necrons missed it," Shepard noted.

A cheer abruptly rang out from the Salamanders; the unrestrained emotion from Astartes was almost palpable, and it made Shepard take a step back. He'stan emerged from the mass of Salamanders with the artifact in his hands; it was a sphere, wrapped in six segmented bands. The sphere itself looked like glass, containing an orange flame, while the bands appeared to be made of brass and silver. It seemed innocuous enough, aside from the impossibility of fire existing in a vacuum, but something told Shepard that this device was one of the most important things she had ever seen.

"It is the work of Vulkan," He'stan said, a tremble in his voice. "I recognize the craftsmanship."

The Salamanders gazed at it with undisguised reverence. The Necropolis Hawks were impressed, but didn't have the same attachment to something not made by their own gene-sire.

"What does it do?" Torlim asked.

He'stan hesitated. "I… do not know. Very little is known of this device, other than that it is both terrible and wondrous."

Shepard tilted her head as she noticed something. "There's a notch in those bands. It looks like it fits onto your spear."

"What?" He'stan glanced at the Spear of Vulkan, which had been held by another Salamander while he had been digging—specifically, at the guard under the blade, opposite the Chapter symbol.

"You know, there's an old Terran saying: 'if the shoe fits, wear it'," Shepard said mildly. "If it looks like it should fit together…"

Without a word, He'stan slotted the Unbound Flame onto the guard of the spear. The two artifacts stuck together like they had always been one. Tiny mechanisms clicked, and then hummed as something scanned the Forgefather. The flame inside the orb glowed brighter, and then the entire combined artifact jerked out of his hands as it flew towards the horizon.

Shepard had started moving even as the gestalt device began to activate. Guided by an urging from the Emperor, she managed to grab the haft as it rocketed through the air. In seconds, she was already out of sight of her forces.

"Oh, shit!" Shepard drew on all her strength to keep from sliding off the spear, even as she called her friends over the vox. "Guys, I think I'm going for a ride! Catch up when you can!"

…

Phoros listened to Torlim's report, shared by Zandtus, with a mixture of alarm and amusement. "Shepard was kidnapped… by a spear?"

"I can't say I've heard of a weapon kidnapping someone before, Primarch-made or not," Vils said, with just a hint of exasperation. "We really should have seen this coming."

Phoros sighed. "Indeed. We're too far away to directly help, but I'll send a flight of Overlords to pick them up and go after her."

"That will lessen our own air forces in this theater," Vils noted. "I'll call up my reserves to cover for their loss. Valkyries are a poor substitute for Overlords, I know, but it's all I can offer."

"It is appreciated all the same."

Vils paused as a report came in over the vox. "It seems the Sororitas have learned what's going on. They are reacting… poorly."

Phoros sighed again. "I almost pity the xenos in their way."

…

Tia was grateful that her emotions were suppressed; otherwise, she was sure that she would be completely terrified of what she was seeing. When it had filtered down to Rychelle's forces that Saint Shepard had been abducted—sort of—the Sororitas had gone into a desperate frenzy to end their battles as quickly as possible, so that they could find her.

Josephine had buried her war-pick into the chest of a Necron Warrior, and was using the edge of her shield to decapitate another. Katarin was using the strength of her bionic arm to swing her own weapon so hard that each Necron she hit practically exploded. Around them, the rest of their squad fought with similar fury, but it was Rychelle herself that was the most impressive. A halo of golden light surrounded her as she charged into a squad of Necrons; the xenos weapons couldn't pierce the barrier, and they were quickly cut to pieces by her power sword for their trouble.

Tia wasn't a warrior of their caliber, but she wasn't helpless; still, the Sororitas quickly left her in their dust as they slammed into the Necron lines. Had Tia been an unaugmented human, she would have been annoyed that they had basically abandoned her, but she knew that the Sororitas' faith drove them to irrational actions more often than not. She understood it, and accepted the failing as one often borne by those not of the Cult Mechanicus.

The Necrons were purged from the area soon after Rychelle led her charge. The Necron structures were blown apart by missiles and melta weapons, while the rest of the force regrouped before moving on. Tia noted with some dissatisfaction that the Sororitas did not give their wargear the proper maintenance the machine spirits required. She knew, once the battles were over, that many pieces of equipment would be brought to her for appeasement.

She wasn't so removed from her humanity that the idea didn't annoy her.

…

Shepard saw the ground fill her vision alarmingly fast. At the last second, she let go of the flying spear and manifested her wings, gliding to a much gentler stop than if she had held on.

"Okay, didn't die on impact," she said to herself. "That's a good start. Now, where'd the spear go?"

She looked around the valley she had landed in, and found the blade embedded in the ground—no, she realized, it had impacted something beneath the ground. Shepard kicked away the disturbed dirt around the spear, until she found what looked like an enormous keyhole, designed to fit both the Spear of Vulkan and the attached Unbound Flame.

"Okay, this is neat." Shepard grabbed the spear and tried to turn it, but it didn't budge. "Wait, this thing activated because He'stan was holding it. I'm not a Salamander, so it probably switched off until one of them grabs the spear again." She tapped her vox. "Darius, can you read me?"

"Barely," Darius said, his voice faint. "We are tracking your location now. What is your status?"

"The spear brought me to a vault, or at least a big lock in the ground, but it's not moving now. I think the Salamanders need to be here. Please tell me you guys are on the way."

"Affirmative. We should reach you in thirty-eight minutes. Chapter Master Phoros sent Overlords to speed up transit, but they have been diverted by Necron aircraft. We are proceeding on foot for now." There was a pause. "I have requested additional support be sent to your location, in case we are delayed further, but High Admiral Dartan reports that the Kin xenos are making aggressive moves, and he cannot move his fleet out of position."

"I'll manage on my own, for now," Shepard said, but tensed when she heard the now-familiar sound of mechanical feet marching closer. "Hey, Darius? If you could shave a little time off that ETA, I'd appreciate it. I think I'm about to have company."

The Necrons rounded the corner of the valley. Unlike the dirty, damaged units she had seen thus far, these gleamed, as if freshly polished, and they moved with almost fluid precision. At their head was what Shepard first thought was another Overlord, but an armored cowl arched over its head, giving it a hunched appearance, even though it stood straight. A segmented cape flowed down to its ankles, and it carried an ornate, bladed staff in one hand.

"Greetings," the Necron said, its voice coming out refined and strong, yet old. "You are Saint Alexia Shepard, correct?"

Shepard held Liberator in a ready stance. "And who are you?"

The Necron chuckled. "How rude of me. I am Trazyn; there are some who call me the Infinite. I can see that you are in the middle of a task, but I am afraid that my own goals supersede yours."

Shepard almost rolled her eyes, but she knew never to do that in front of an opponent. "And what do I have to do with your goals?"

Trazyn tilted his head; if his head wasn't shaped like an unmoving skull, Shepard would have thought he was smiling. "Your power is unique, even among the so-called 'Living Saints'. I treasure that which is unique; I collect such things, and bring them to my museum. You will be safe there, I assure you, as will those relics of Vulkan."

"I'm going to assume that you won't accept my refusal, and I won't be allowed to leave."

"That would be correct."

Shepard sighed. "I appreciate that you were polite, but my answer is still a big 'no'."

Trazyn shrugged. "I understand. I am aware that you regenerate, so I can afford to damage you until you can be subdued."

…

"Sir! Teleport signatures detected on one of the Kin ships!"

Dartan leaned forward in his command throne. "What is their destination? Hurry!"

…

There was a flash of light, but it didn't come from the Necron weapons. Instead, more than a score of squat figures in some of the thickest power armor Shepard had ever seen raised oversized plasma guns in one hand, while shoulder-mounted grenade launchers adjusted their angles.

Another figure—shorter than the others, due to their thinner armor, but made more impressive by the horizontal crest mounted to their backpack—pointed directly at Trazyn.

"Fire!"

Bolts of plasma hammered into the front ranks of the Necrons, while grenades arced overhead to detonate among those farther back. Trazyn's body was more durable than his warriors, but he was still damaged; the newcomer raised a twin-barreled bolter and fired a long burst into the Necron's head. Shepard, not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, drew her plasma pistol and fired directly into Trazyn's head.

The leader of what Shepard could only assume were the Kin drew what looked like an axe from their belt, though it lacked a blade; that changed when they pushed a button on the handle, and a red-orange blade of contained plasma emerged, completing the weapon. They charged towards the damaged Trazyn and hacked his legs off with one swing.

"How… disappointing," Trazyn said, as the Kin raised their axe for a finishing blow. "I suppose there is always next time, Alexia Shepard."

Once the Necrons' remains faded away, the Kin turned to face Shepard; in turn, that gave her time to examine their equipment. Though she had never seen armor and weapons like theirs during her time in this galaxy before, she could definitely see similarities between theirs and the Imperium's. Her inner engineer, a part of her that had been mostly buried since coming to this galaxy, was fascinated by the potential differences.

The Kin leader marched over to her; their domed helmet folded back, revealing a craggy face with a full beard that was tucked under his armor. The top of his head was bald, save for a short, thick crest of orange hair; Shepard noted that his beard was a dark grey, hinting that the crest was dyed. His armor, like that of his hulking bodyguards, was a gleaming black; unlike his companions, whose armor was completely enclosed, Shepard could see a burnt-yellow cloth between his armor plates.

"You are Alexia Shepard?" the Kin asked in accented Low Gothic.

"I am," Shepard said. "You're the second stranger to know who I am today. It's getting weird."

The Kin nodded stiffly. "I am Kâhl Tôryk Krônn, of the Blackhammer Kindred. In the name of the Kronus Hegemony, we have been tasked with bringing you before…" There was a pause, as if Krônn couldn't decide on the words. "Before the leadership of our League."

Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose. "Everyone wants me to go with them today. Look, I don't know who you are, or why you want me to go with you, but I'm in the middle of something really important. Is there any way it can wait until I'm done?"

There was a flash of rage across the Kâhl's face—at least, Shepard assumed it was rage, since Krônn's features were similar enough to that of humans to get a read on him—but he quickly regained control of himself.

"My task is to bring you with me," he said. "I was not told when. If assisting you will hurry you along, then my army stands ready to fight."

Shepard blinked. Getting an entire xenos—though, at this point, she was starting to have doubts—army to help her wasn't something she had expected today. Then again, aside from the invasion of Commorragh, she hadn't expected it at all in this galaxy.

"I'd appreciate any help you can give," she said. "Most of my forces might not see yours as friendly, though. If you attack the Necrons anywhere we're not, I can just tell my people that you have your own business with the Necrons, and to only fight you if you attack first."

There was a calculating gleam in Krônn's eyes. "The resources we could harvest from these constructs… yes, it would offset the cost of this expedition. Consider the bargain struck."

Shepard held back another sigh; apparently, there was greed she could play on, and her reluctant ally had just become a little more enthusiastic.

"My officers will lead the wider campaign," Krônn continued. "However, I will stay with you. I will not be named an oath-breaker because you went and got yourself killed."

Shepard was reminded of her friend, Morgrim; he was a Dwarf of Barak Varr, and they had fought alongside each other several times. Because she had helped recapture Karak Eight Peaks, he had sworn an oath of loyalty to her, and when she had tried to refuse, he had asked her not to make him an oath-breaker. That, and the Kin's similar appearance to the Dwarfs of her old life, brought a feeling of nostalgia.

Lost in her own memories, she almost missed the sound of engines growing closer, and scrambled to call her friends over the vox. "Darius, can you read me?"

"Yes, Lady Shepard. Are you wounded?"

"No, but listen, I need you to tell everyone to not shoot at the people with me. I've just arranged a truce with the Kin, and I'd rather not ruin it."

"Very well." If Darius doubted her, she couldn't tell, but she could trust that he would make sure nobody started another war.

"So!" Shepard clapped her hands together and turned to Krônn. "After the introductions are over, I have to see about opening a door I found!"

I have to apologize. I know that this chapter took (*checks story*), wow, closing on a year to update. Part of this was because I was getting burned out, another part was many health issues, stress at work, trying to focus on one story at a time… basically, I got distracted. However, recent Warhammer-related releases have reignited my passion for this story, especially since I got to introduce the Leagues of Votann! They are my favorite sort-of xenos faction in the game, and I've been amassing an army of them ever since they came out. Seriously, I got so excited that I pre-ordered everything I could when they were announced, and I never pre-order.

Anyway, Shepard also had a brief encounter with Trazyn the Infinite, one of the best characters in the setting. They will meet again, but Shepard is busy looking for a Primarch, and some space dwarfs decided to crash the party.

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, in both physical and eBook format. I've been trying to finish the sequel, but it's slow going. Health issues, among other things, have made reaching what I like to call my 'perfect writing place' more difficult.

You can also support me by donating via my P-atreon (link in my profile). Seriously, if all of you donated at even the lowest tier, I could afford to live in California. Instead, I'm looking at moving to a state that isn't absurdly expensive to live in.

Thanks to the following patrons, who have been patiently waiting for me to update this story:

Serious Muffins: Nimrod009, Aaron Meek, Matthias Matanovic, Lokthar, Hakuryuken, Anders Lyngbye, Kristen Tyler

Incredible Muffins: RaptorusMaximus, Crazyman844, CherryGoesBoom, michaelb958, TBF3979

Ultra Muffins: RangersRoll

Next Chapter: Shepard descends into darkness to find either a lost treasure… or the dragon that guards it.

The Muffins are watching!