The Multiverse Project: Warhammer 40,000

"When did you arrive on this planet colonel?" Tangmo glanced around the empty, Victorian-ish lane flanked on both side by dainty, but wrecked, townhouses and gothic street lamps, the sound of boots crunching gravels echoed hauntingly across the thoroughfare.

"Just a week ago sir, we were completing our preliminary reconnaissance on the city when you arrived," colonel Al-Rahman of the 756th Tallarn mechanized infantry said. "Judging from what we've seen so far, I'm glad for the reinforcement."

"Happy to help colonel," Tangmo nodded and took in his surroundings. Shattered windows, roads and buildings pockmarked by bullet holes, dried blood splattered everywhere, topped off with the bitter acrid stench of spent promethium drifting lazily in the wind. Yep, this place got fucked hard.

"Nervous?" Tangmo asked when he noticed the beads of sweat running down Al-Rahman's hawkish face and bearded chin, the white keffiyeh above his brow was drenched despite the planet mild weather

"My regiment is more attune to fighting in the open sir," Al-Rahman wiped away his perspiration and fumbled with his agal, trying to make himself look more presentable, "and…forgive me for being presumptuous but there is evil here, I can feel it in my bones. It's like walking into an open grave."

"Yeah, this place is creepy as fuck," Tangmo swept his laspistol over the soundless desolation.

"Commissar," Krillen strode up to his right. "Luva's scouts report massive casualty deeper inside the city."

"Hardly surprising," Tangmo grimaced. "Where's Korri?"

"Up on one of the communication tower," Krillen stabbed his thumb southward, "surrounded by two squads of Fire Guards heavies."

"She sees anything out of the ordinary?" Tangmo said.

"Just the same death and ruin we now tread upon," Krillen's nonchalant attitude drew an incredulous looks from the Tallarns, while the Cadian and Kolasian laughed lowly.

"You know, I kinda expect to see dead bodies and shits by now," not a second after Tangmo said that, the companies of Cadian, Kolasian and Tallarn entered a cobbled plaza littered with corpses, the killing swift and clean, but brutal in scale. The place reeked horridly but the carrion ambience of buzzing flies was absent. The carcasses were bloated and decomposing, but no maggots feasted upon the rotting flesh. Strange.

"I want these buildings secured," Tangmo waved at the townhouses that ringed the square. "No less than eight guardsmen for each, search every floor, basement and attic. Then set up a waypoint for our troops here. Safeties off and don't trust the dark. Get to it."

The Cadian and Kolasian saluted and carried out their order with trained swiftness. The Tallarn however, looked to their young colonel for directive. Al-Rahman fidgeted from the attention and turned to a big, dark face major sporting a black conical Arabic battle helm. The thick bearded man took in the square, slow and calm like a patience hunter, before giving the colonel a nod.

Relaxing somewhat, Al-Raman said, "do as the commissar said."

The Tallarn went about their task with admirable gusto, the desert warrior's discipline rivaling the Cadian and Kolasian.

"I never did get your name major," Tangmo asked the huge, broad shouldered Tallarn.

"Major Salahdin, at your service lord commissar," the man saluted handsomely but Tangmo detected an edge of distrust in his voice. And that name, welp, this was one dude he wouldn't want to fuck with.

"Pleasure," Tangmo gave him a Thai wai, the gesture confusing the major, before turning back to Al-Rahman. "Any idea what the hell happened here colonel?"

"We and the Praetorian Guard responded to a distress astropathic choir," Al-Rahman quickened his pace as Tangmo and Krillen headed for the fountain at the center of the plaza, Salahdin shadowing the colonel closely. "But when we arrived it was too late…forgive me sir, but how did you come by here?"

"We were in the Saule system three weeks ago, collecting STC and kicking ass," Tangmo began. "The data we retrieved from Ghamarhon gave us the location of other STCs scattered across the galaxy. This planet, Zyrien, was the nearest, so we came here. And like you, we have no idea what the fuck happened either, but I'll guess a Chaos raid."

"I suppose that is the most readily available explanation," reaching the large, intricately carved fountain, Al-Rahman peered inside the dried pool and recoiled back with a gasp. Where crystal clear water once flowed, bodies now clogged the porcelain basin, sprawled and curled in their final posture of life. Tangmo counted about fifty on this side alone.

"By the Emperor," Al-Rahman was angst but went a shade paler when Tangmo and Krillen climbed into the open charnel house. "What are you doing?!"

"The bodies can tell us what happened," Krillen said.

"But…they are to be given proper rest," Al-Rahman protested as Tangmo rummaged through the corpses. "Please! They have suffered enough in life, let's not torment them in death also."

"Stay out of our way if you're so squeamish," Krillen growled before yelling over Al-Rahman's head, "Where the hell is Ryvin?!"

Salahdin glowered darkly at Krillen, but a quick, almost pleading look from Al-Rahman stopped him from reaching for his lasgun. Then, with an endearingly childish nod of determination to himself, Al-Rahman vaulted over the fountain rim, landing gracefully beside Tangmo and Krillen.

"My prince!" Salahdin blurted, drawing raised brows from Tangmo and Krillen.

"I shall be fine, major," Al-Rahman put a heavy emphasis on the rank, causing Salahdin to realize he fucked up.

"Apology, colonel," Salahdin stepped back from the fountain.

"Please patrol the perimeter," Al-Rahman said.

"As you wish colonel," Salahdin bowed and walked away. Sighing, Al-Rahman spun around and found himself under Tangmo and Krillen's undivided, some would say judgmental, attention. Before Al-Rahman can offer an explanation, Tangmo cut in, "I don't think you need to be reminded that who you were before joining the guards no longer matters?"

Although Al-Rahman didn't look like the royal dickhead type, the comically affronted look he shot Tangmo definitely bespoke of a pampered, and quite obviously spoiled, upbringing where he usually gets what he wants.

"I am well aware of that, lord commissar," Al-Rahman huffed hotly.

"Good, because I need your help flipping this dude over," Tangmo pointed at a large body garbed in military uniform.

Losing some of his bluster, Al-Rahman kept a straight face as he knelt down and placed his hands on the dead man's hip, while Tangmo and Krillen grabbed hold of the shoulders and arms.

"On three. One, two…" grunting, they rolled the carcass over. Tangmo frowned, Krillen was silent and Al-Rahman gasped when they saw a boy of about five curled deep inside the man's protective embrace, both splattered in ichor and gore.

"May the God Emperor have mercy upon their soul," Al-Rahman said sadly and Tangmo was honestly surprised, in a good way, by the man's burgeoning empathy, something that was sorely absent in the grim darkness of the forty second millennium. His compassion will become problematic in the future, Tangmo thought bitterly, but for now this little display of humanity was appreciated.

"Kinetic weaponry," Krillen observed with cold professionalism, "the entry and exit wounds are too messy to be made by lasfire."

"And not your average stubber guns too," Tangmo peered closer. "The meats are all torn apart. I mean, shit, a good chunk of his spine is gone and the kid's lower half is shredded to pieces."

"Don't touch the bodies!"

Ryvin rushed up to the fountain, a young Tallarn woman with a tight hijab covering her head, another medic Tangmo assumed, trailing after him.

"Damnation, you already moved him," Ryvin gave Tangmo and Krillen a reprimanding look. "This is going to make my examination that much more difficult."

"Umm…you want us to put them back the way they were?" Tangmo offered.

"Don't! Just step away from the bodies," Ryvin pushed him and Al-Rahman aside, much to the Tallarn woman shock. "And make some room for me and Zuhra to work for Throne sake!"

"I'm very sorry…colonel," Zuhra bowed at Al-Rahman, stopping herself just in time before calling him 'prince', then went to help Ryvin. With pliers and scalpels Ryvin examined the two corpses conjoined by viscera, swift and reverent, treating the cadavers like fragile pieces of art. Zuhra watched him with unhidden awe as Salahdin rejoined them.

"Found anything major?" Tangmo asked.

"Just more bodies, lord commissar," Salahdin shook his head. "Poor bastards, they should be given proper passing rite, not discarded like slaughtered livestock. The heretics seek to degrade the subjects of the God Emperor even in death."

"These people died here major, not placed," Ryvin corrected Salahdin.

"How did you come by this conclusion?" Al-Rahman asked.

"The PDF made up the first line of bodies," Krillen said and Tangmo saw the obvious pattern he had missed earlier. At the edge of the fountain, men and women in military uniform lay with lasgun cradled in their arms, fingers still coiled around the triggers. Behind them, making up the inner layer, were the civilians.

"They tried to form a defensive perimeter inside the fountain," Salahdin couldn't believe his eyes. "By the God Emperor, why pick such a poor position? And with noncombatant in tow no less."

"Desperation," Ryvin moved on to another body. "What can a man do when faced with annihilation but defy it? See the impact marks? Bullets came at them from every direction. They were surrounded with no hope of escape, so they stand their ground."

Salahdin lowered his gaze and nodded sadly, ashamed that he had questioned the dead. Ah, so he's not so heartless after all.

"What kind of bullet was used?" Tangmo did a double take on the fountain's deceased occupants, and damn, things were really messy. Conventional bullets didn't kill these people, that's for damn sure.

"I found something sir," Zuhra wrenched a piece of metal out of the boy's gaping thorax. "Here sir, sorry it's a bit messy."

"Thank you," Tangmo took it, wiped it clean on a dead woman's skirt and held it up to the cloudy noon sun. The cylindrical object, broken and cracked, was almost as big as a 40mm M79 grenade.

"Bolter rounds," Tangmo said.

"Chaos Astartes," Krillen spat the words like it was something foul.

"Are the wounds consistence?" Tangmo stashed the bolt into his awesome commissar coat.

"It would appear so," Ryvin took in the butchery and sighed. "But I need to be sure, this could take some time."

"Already missing Xiphos?" Krillen smirked and Tangmo chuckled at the jab.

"Don't be jealous Krillen, I'm sure you'll find someone who can stomach you eventually," Ryvin shot back mercilessly, and although the sight of a pissed off Krillen always brings a smile to his face, Tangmo cut his chortling short when he saw how unreceptive the Tallarn guardsmen were of his attempt at levity. Even the Cadian and Kolasian were solemnly quiet, the gloom of the place putting a heavy shroud over their moods. Coughing, Tangmo was salvaging his commissariat image when the rumbles of Tauros engine broke the silence. Speeding around a corner, a column of battle jeep rolled into the square and came to a stop in a pristine two by four row. Inside the lead Tauros was Bruce, belching out a hearty laugh and smacking an uncomfortable looking Praetorian Guard colonel seated next to him on the shoulder.

"See lad? That wasn't so bad now was it?" Bruce leapt off the Tauros with springy steps, while the Praetorian extricated himself haughtily, dusting off his prim and pressed red uniform.

"I have always despised these infernal transports of yours," the colonel adjusted his white helmet and marched toward Tangmo, right and proper like a Victorian gentleman. It was very hard to keep a straight face at seeing something so ridiculously British.

"Lord commissar," he saluted crisply, "colonel Alistair, reporting for duty sir."

"Oh yes, Bruce's friend, I heard a lot of good things about you," Alistair's blue eyes twitched irritably as he shook Tangmo's hand.

"I believe friend is too liberal of a definition," the young man with an epic handlebar moustache frowned.

"Allie! Why do you have to be so hurtful?" Bruce grinned brightly. "And after all we've been through together no less!"

"Wait a minute, is he the guy from your love worm story?" At Tangmo pointing inquiry, Alistair's pale complexion deepened into bright, dangerous red, nostril flaring as he glared at the sheepish Bruce.

"I would not take the account of colonel Bruce as factual, lord commissar," a prim woman strode up to stand beside the fuming Alistair, the soft touch she lay on his shoulder calming him down. "He has the tendency to exaggerate."

"Really? Because the details were disgustingly vivid," Krillen was his charming, mopey self but, to Tangmo infinite incomprehension, the smart and pretty Praetorian major decided to reciprocate his question with a warm smile.

"Was it the one about the tunnel or that little nap after a bottle of Sleaghadharian whiskey?" The major went on pleasantly.

"The sewer actually," Krillen continued glumly, a grey cloud to the major's sunshine.

"Oh Aileen," the major gave her Grey Watch counterpart a less than serious chiding. "It is positively naughty to be passing around a raunchier version of an already embarrassing tale."

"I have no idea what you're talking about lass," Aileen shrugged innocently as she joined the Praetorian.

"Oh, pish posh my dear, I know you couldn't keep something that juicy to yourself," she continued knowingly. "Beside, everybody knows the truth of it involves…"

"By the Throne Emily, you are exasperating the situation!" Alistair cried indignantly.

"Okay, settle down, we're still on the clock here" Tangmo interrupted the Brits and Scots.

"Right, apology lord commissar," Alistair drew himself upright, the paleness of his complexion returning to normal.

"Now, how did the reconnaissance go?" Tangmo asked. "Found anything?"

"Just more death, sir," Bruce sighed heavily.

"The bodies have already entered advance stage of decomposition," Alistair added. "The atrocity was committed weeks before our arrival, we have no inkling as to why this isolated research planet was attacked so savagely."

"Did you find any trophies?" Tangmo continued. "You know, the crazy Chaos shit like flayed people hanging upside down from a bridge, piles of skulls, crucifixions, disembowel corpses…anything?"

Bruce and Alistair traded look before the Praetorian answered, "no sir, we found no such desecration."

"That's a little weird, don't you think?" Tangmo glanced around the square. "Chaos heretics are a bunch of crazy asshole, but their antics are super predictable. Those sick fucks like to show off and turn everywhere they go into a macabre version of the Louvre. But as you can see this place is still, relatively speaking, clean. Odd ain't it?"

Nodding murmurs answered him as Al-Rahman rejoined the conversion, "come to think of it, the attack seems to show a level of finesse rarely displayed by the Archenemy, swift and deadly, with no wasteful cruelty displayed, as the commissar had correctly pointed out."

"Perhaps this is not a Chaos attack, but the work of some rebellious faction?" Emily suggested, "Maybe even an Eldar raid, they have been known to attack the Imperium without presage."

"This seems a little too professional for a ragtag band of rebels. As for the Eldar theory," Tangmo reached into his awesome commissar coat and took out the bolt remains. "They don't use bolter. Plus, we have an alliance with them now."

Tangmo stuffed the bolt back into his awesome commissar coat and turned to Ryvin and Zuhra, "found anything else?"

"More bolts sir," Ryvin didn't look up from the dead body he was examining.

"So far, eight out of ten casualties appears to have been caused by bolter rounds," Zuhra added. "While the rest died from standard lasgun fire, and those shots are pretty accurate."

"Sweep the city while the sun's still up, we need to find out what the hell happened here. And Bruce," Tangmo waved Bruce over while the other colonels and majors strode off.

"Yes sir?"

"Tell your pipers to play something lively and cheerful, this place is too damn quiet for my taste."

"Guns up ladies and gentlemen, appearance is always deceiving, stay frosty."

An enthusiastic 'yes sir!' answered Henry as the four Cadian company led by Meko and Orhul spread out across the empty power plant situated thirty kilometers east of the city, the tall exhaust chimneys lay in crumbled heaps or jutting out of the ground like broke teeth. Around them, the many power grids that had fueled the city were reduced to nothing but charred metal scraps, the demolition work precise and meticulous. It didn't take a genius to see that this was no simple Chaos attack.

"Rie, keep an eye on that forest to the south," Henry spoke into his headphone.

"Yes sir!" Rie replied with her usual boundless gusto.

"Kaela, take the other three Macharius with the Nynaeve and patrol the perimeter," Henry continued.

"On it sir," Kaela made his acknowledgement.

"Mitsurugi, have the Evangelion watch the northern plain please," Henry addressed the newly name Macharius.

"Affirmative," Henry couldn't help but shivered at the woman's icy voice, lieutenant Mitsurugi demeanor and appearance, short black hair and menacing sunglass, reminded him way too much of Gendo Ikari. Hopefully she doesn't have an evil plot to turn everyone into Tang orange juice.

"As for my buddy King Ghidorah, stand by and watch the ruins, if something out of the ordinary pops up feels free to blow it straight to hell," Henry said as he strolled into the power plant proper, broken furniture and dead bodies dripping ooze of decomposition greeted him. Hmm, where the hell were all the flies?

"I'm going to look around a bit," Henry tapped his earbud. "I'll meet you and Bektra at the main power station later."

"Copy that," Ruven said as Henry drew his laspistol and ventured into the deserted, dust caked interior. He stopped at the destroyed welcoming desk and went over a few papers that survived the attack, nothing of note, just a bunch of electrical bills, name of appointments and some bored doddles. Walking down the wide corridor behind the reception area, Henry peeked into a few office rooms and found more dead bodies.

The thoroughness of the undertaking was unnerving, to say the least. From what Henry can discern so far the hostile party, Chaos in all likelihood, went door to door and gunned everyone down. Although this wasn't out of character for the servants of the Ruinous power, the finesse displayed bespoke of a new modus operandi, a professionalism that seemed at odds with the heretic's berserker nature. Even more curious was that bolter appeared to be the main weapons of choice. Chaos Space Marines? Maybe, but rampaging ten foot tall super soldiers usually leave behind a lot more mess than this. After about fifteen minutes of checking in on one crime scene after another, and still as clueless as he was before, Henry decided to head for the main power station. The least he could do was get the power back on since the underground auxiliary grid was still intact.

Stepping into a large room filled with electrical consoles, some whole, some busted, Henry headed toward the bangs and grids of repair.

"Alright my dudes, what are we looking at…"

Ladaee spun around to face him, both startled by the other presence.

"General," Ladaee greeted him curtly and went back to work.

"Ladaee," Henry's words was equally grated. Ever since their spat on Ghamarhon, both he and Ladaee have been cold and bitchy toward each other, every moment spent in close proximity quickly devolved into glares and fights. It's not his fault she was being difficult, who the hell did she think she was telling him what he can and can't do? And why in the fuck did Tangmo and Damien took her side?! Whatever, if he had to be the adult in this conflict, then fine.

"Do you need some help?" Henry offered politely.

"No," was Ladaee harsh reply.

Gritting his teeth, Henry persisted, "are you sure? Those things look pretty heavy, I can help."

"I don't want any help from you," Ladaee lashed back.

"Okay fine! Be like that then!" Henry threw his arms exasperatedly into the air. "You're so fucking difficult, I swear!"

"Me?!" Ladaee dropped her work and rounded on him. "How dare you?!"

"I'm not the one shooting down every attempt at peace!" Henry shot back. "Why are you acting like this? What the hell did I do to deserve this?!"

"If you haven't figure that out by now, then I don't see the point in enlightening you," Ladaee snapped.

"Can you please not pull this Wheel of Time crap with me?" Henry sighed heavily, both weary and angry that they were having this argument again. "For the love of the God Emperor and his Saints, please tell me what I did wrong?!"

"And why should I do that?" Ladaee snorted venomously.

"Because I care about you!"

That choked Ladaee up, her mouth moved but no words came. Growling, Henry spun away and stalked for the exit, not waiting to hear her response.

"You know what? Forget it!"

"Henry wait!"

Henry knew he should just keep walking, but his steps slowed then stopped, the soft pattering of Ladaee's footfall catching up to him. Wordlessly he turned to face her, tired in both body and spirit.

"Did you really mean that?" Ladaee asked. "That you care about me?"

"I do," Henry nodded slowly. "Look, whatever I did, I'm sorry okay?"

"You don't even know why you're sorry," Ladaee shook her head harshly.

"Look, can we please not…"

"Why do you have to endanger yourself so!?" Ladaee's shriek struck Henry like a slap.

"I-I…I …" Henry spluttered but Ladaee cut in savagely, the tears rolling down her cheeks did nothing to diminish the intensity of her gaze.

"What you did on Ghamarhon was unnecessary and stupid, what possesses you to face down Zorkha in a duel?! We had that bastard surrounded, but you had to go and play the hero. You could have been killed! Cleaved in half like…like…!"

"But I didn't…"

"That's not the point you fucking idiot! Did you ever think how I would feel?! To see you dead because you needed to show off?! Answer me damn you!"

For his answer, Henry closed their distant and wrapped Ladaee up in an embrace. She sank into his broad chests and wept openly, bawling loud and hard, finally releasing all the pent up emotion in one over pouring torrent.

"I'm sorry," Henry caressed her dark hair in slow, soothing strokes. "I was selfish, thinking only of myself. I should've known you were worried. Ladaee I'm so sorry."

"Damn right you should," Ladaee sobbed, her muffled voice reverberating over his heart, "you stupid inconsiderate man."

"Yeah, I'm a jerk like that sometime," Henry chuckled. "But still, I'm really sorry."

"I'm sorry too," Ladaee gave him a parting squeeze before extricating herself. "I should've just talked to you in the first place, but I get very stubborn and spiteful when I'm angry. All I wanted to do was burn everything down."

"And I happily added more fuel to the fire," Henry sighed. "We were both stupid."

"But you more so," Ladaee wiped her eyes and gave him a less than serious look.

"I'll agree with you this time," Henry grinned then said. "But Ladaee, you have to understand that in the future I will be charging into danger again. And when that happens, I simply ask that you understand its necessity."

Ladaee held his gaze for a long moment before nodding, "and I'll be sure to give you a sound scolding when you come back."

"Deal," Henry extended his hand, Ladaee sniggering at the gesture then took it.

"Deal," Ladaee let go and waved him back to the power panel. "Come on, we got work to do, and I really need help with the heavy lifting."

"Yes mam."

They both went back to the destroyed panel and, for the first time in a month, were happy with each other's company. They talked as the panels were removed to reveal the charcoaled circuitry beneath, they joked while the many connecting ports were rewired and melded into place, and they laughed when everything was put back together in its proper places.

"Well, we did all we can," Ladaee reached over to the lever next to the panel. "Here goes nothing."

"Wait," Henry eased her hand away. "I'll do this. There could be electrical feedback."

"Trying to be a hero again?" Ladaee shot him a look.

"I don't want you to get hurt," Henry smiled, causing the engineer to flush red.

"Be careful," Ladaee said gingery and went to stand behind him. Taking a deep breath, Henry flipped the switch. Sparks flew from the panel, followed by the loud buzzing hum of surging electricity traveling through the hectic mass of cables and wires. The light above them flickered, teetering between life and death before glowing to its maximum luminosity.

"You did it Ladaee!" Henry scooped her up in a hug.

"No, we did!" Ladaee laughed and then, out of the blue, pressed her lips to Henry's. It was a quick bashful thing, but that little touch sends Henry to heaven and back. The softness and warmth lingered long after Ladaee pried herself away, shocked by her own impulsiveness while Henry just stood there, shell shocked, paralyzed by this sweet euphoria now coursing through his veins like the rarest, most delicate wine.

"I'm…sorry sir, I didn't mean too…I don't know what came over me," Ladaee stuttered nervously.

"Uh…no! Don't be!" Henry said quickly. "Thank you Ladaee."

"You're welcome sir," Ladaee composed herself then knelt down to gather her things.

"Just call me Henry, please?"

"…I'd like that very much, Henry."

With that, they strode together in jovial silence out on to the power plant's large parking lot where the expectant tank crew was waiting for them, the grey sun hovering just above the western horizon.

"That was very sneaky Ruven," Henry glared at the smirking tank commander. "I didn't expect such a sly maneuver from you."

"Well sir, I'm capable of many things when the situation calls for it," Ruven said. "…so?"

Henry glanced at Ladaee and threw his arms around her, drawing her close, both sharing a smile as the tank crew erupted in a loud ovation.

"I am touched that our relationship means so much to all of you," Ladaee was endearingly sarcastic.

"Well, the King Ghidorah has become a little cramp lately," Volsom spoke up. "But thankfully, we can breathe again now."

"Yes, yes you can," Henry nodded and let her go.

"Good news lord commissar," Ruven spoke into his mic, Henry quickly tapped his own earbud so that he was latched on to the same frequency. "The general and Ladaee have made peace."

"About fucking time, goddamn," Tangmo sighed dramatically. "So who did the groveling? It's gotta be Henry right? I mean, shit, I can't imagine Ladaee getting on her knees and begging for forgiveness like how he did with Laura."

"Actually, Henry was extremely courteous and gentlemanly, lord commissar," Ladaee spoke up before Henry could. "He took the initiative to mend our misunderstanding."

"Ah, first name basis now I see? Congratulation," Tangmo said. "Anyway, take care and thanks for bringing the lights back on. I'll see you guys later."

"Thanks Ladaee," Henry climbed up the King Ghidorah after her.

"You're welcome Henry," Ladaee stopped at the hatch and gave him an eerily sweet smile. "So, who's Laura?"

Henry made a mental note then to kill Tangmo next he sees him.

"Nice, the power's back on," Damien took off his awesome Space Marine helmet, put it on the magnetic lock at his waist and took a deep breath. The air was dusty and dry, with an overpowering stench of weeks old rot and excrement.

"The air is foul," Gallus also removed his helmet. "The source seems to be emanating from up ahead."

"Well, let's not waste anytime then," Damien turned back to his Ultramarine squad and the long column of guardsmen behind them. "Stay close and weapons free, we're nearing the crater. Leilatha, you ready?"

"Always sir," Leilatha held her laspistol high and relayed Damien's command to Krix and Luva, the two captains quickly passing it on with swift hand signals now that the lights were back on. Bracing his bolter, Damien quickened his pace down the rectangular hewed corridor of granite and into an open air cavern the size of a small neighborhood created by a meteor strike. According to Albert, the thing that has fallen here was a large chunk of Blackstone. So naturally, the STC will be about that.

But as Damien glanced around the ransacked cavern littered with debris and dead bodies, he had a bad feeling that those Chaos assholes had beaten them to the prize this time.

"Spread out and search the area," the guardsmen spurred into motion while Damien waved his Space Marine to follow. "Come on, let's go check out ground zero."

Strolling up to a deep indentation at the center of the cavern where the Blackstone must have once stood, Damien knelt down and ran his hand over the smooth mosaic floor comprised of jagged ebon crystal, so dark that it seems to absorb light.

"Helvius, get over here," Damien slammed his fist onto the ground, shards of bladed crystal flying loose. "Clear some room in that fanny pack of yours dude, we're taking these samples back to the ship."

"Is that wise sir?" Manus voiced his concern as Damien picked up a crystal. "For all we know, that thing could be contaminated by the Warp."

"Nah, I don't think so," Damien crushed the shard, grinding it to fine dust in his palm before letting it flow down between his fingers. "These looks like normal dirt, but it's obvious that some organic elements of the Blackstone had diluted into the surrounding soil. Beside the color, I don't see anything supernatural about it. Still, just to be on the safe side," Damien took out his data-slate and took a picture of the inky ground. "Yo, Albert, is this thing toxic?"

"Give me a sec," the AI ran his diagnostic. "Okay, the thing looks pretty clean but it was most definitely touched by the Warp in the past. Nothing to worry about though, the residue is inert."

"Should I bring it back on the ship?" Damien asked.

"I don't see why not," Albert gave a disembodied shrug. "We have a containment unit that emits the Blank field, so if anything happens we can stuff it in there."

"Copy that," Damien scooped up a handful of shards and held it out to Helvius. "Fill her up dude."

"Yes sir, Brother Sergeant," The Primaris Apothecary went to work with precise swiftness, arranging each sample into the correct container, lead boxes for the shards and clear vials for the sands, all done under the watchful eyes of the helmed Manus. Since the Slender Man incident on Ghamarhon, Helvius and Aurius has dedicate themselves to martial and spiritual training to prove their worth to the squad. They've made great progress in the last month, their discipline honed to a sharpened edge, but Manus still watched them closely.

"Brother Sergeant," Leilatha approached him, the lady commissar saluting smartly.

"What can I do for you mam?" Damien wiped the dust off his hand.

"I think you need to see this sir," Leilatha ushered for him to follow.

"Alright," Damien spun around and addressed his squad. "You guys stay here and secure the perimeter, search the ground in case we missed anything. Gallus, you're with me."

Gallus fall in behind him as they followed Leilatha, passing rows of destroyed scientific instruments and decaying corpses struck down by accurate gunshots, black lethargic blood seeped between the metal grilles floor. The killing here was woefully one sided, and the job itself was thorough, like, professionally thorough. Makes him wonder what kind of enemy they were dealing with.

"Here sir," Leilatha waved over to a mound of carcasses, rotting bits of brown meats and slick white bones with thin strips of tendon clinging to it were scattered like leftovers on a dirty plate.

"Holy shit, this is new," Damien observed.

"My thought exactly," Leilatha agreed. "Unlike the other bodies we found, where commendable marksmanships were displayed, the wounds here were sloppy, made by clumsy lasfire and stubber bullets. Not only that, but I believe the remains were cannibalized."

"Sorry lady commissar, but I beg the differed," Gallus knelt down beside a ravaged torso. "The feast here was not meant to satiate the hungers of men."

"Are you certain, Brother Astartes?" Leilatha asked.

"See these bite marks?" Gallus pointed at an open ribcage. "The small incisions meant that the incisors, canines and bicuspids are, although large, significantly narrower than that of a human tooth. And judging from the deep rent set into the bones, extremely sharp. Furthermore, and forgive me for contradicting you again lady commissar, the amount of blood spilled here indicates that some of the victims were alive when they were consumed, animals like their prey fresh."

"I might get Tangmo to double check this, his mum's a dentist," Damien said. "So did daemon eat them or something?"

Gallus peered closer, "…hmm, the bites bear a striking resemblance to that of the Rattus genus, more commonly known in low gothic as rats"

"Rats," Damien stared at the eaten remains. "Are you sure?"

"The Warp can morph even the simplest of creature into an unnatural abomination," Gallus said. "No doubt that what feasted upon these people were creations of foul sorcery, beasts chained to the Ruinous power."

"I hope that's the case," Damien chuckled nervously, knowing that the word rat and Warhammer usually combined to make a rather undesirable and verminous result. Thankfully those unmentionables are confined to Warhammer Fantasy, not 40k. He hoped. "Have we found any of these rats? Even dead ones, because if not, then I'm gonna get really nervous when the sun sets."

"I'll have the men sweep the area sir," Gallus was tapping his earbud when a loud argument drifted from somewhere to his left, the timbre catty and most definitely female. Groaning, Damien strode toward the noise with Leilatha at his heel. Damien soon came upon a large, elevated disc like contraption made of metal rusted by gore and dust, layered in a way that it looked to be composed of circles that gradually reduced in size until the smallest rest at the center. And standing before the computer console attached to this machinery was Krix and Luva, the two captains barking at each other while their men, as usual, stood back at a safe distant.

"Would you piss off already?!" Krix refused to move even when Luva was up in her face.

"Like I'm going to trust something this complex to a gutter wretch," Luva spat. "Get out of my way."

"I worked in the factorium to support my mother, I know what I'm doing," Krix remained unmoving.

"Funny, I didn't think your pimp let you out that far," Luva sneered.

"You fucking bitch!"

"What is going on here?!"

Leilatha stomped forward as Krix was reeling back her fist, the flamer captain gave a start then unclenched her hand and took a step back from Luva.

"Lady commissar," Luva began, folding her arms haughtily over her chest. "I was just informing captain Krix that a more qualified individual is needed to operate this machinery."

"I am qualified!" Krix raised her voice but a sharp look from Leilatha settled her down quickly. "Beg your pardon lady commissar, but this is a Mercury pattern memory unit that is use to maintain and collect data. A model of this size can only mean that the STC information is stored within."

"If that is the case, I recommend that we wait for engineer Ladaee and her assistance Elpida to get here," Luva continued as if Krix haven't spoken.

"But those two are hours away," Krix pressed.

"Are you sure you can handle the transfer, captain Krix?" Leilatha cut in before Luva can speak again.

"Of course lady commissar," Krix remained adamant.

"Okay Krix, give it a whirl," Damien nodded and went to stand beside her. "I'll be here if you need anything. Not to brag, but I'm pretty good with computer myself."

"Thank you lady commissar, Brother Sergeant," Krix huffed triumphantly and swiftly got to work, her fingers dancing across the keyboard, lines of code blinking to life. Luva scowled hard at being upstaged, but the animosity failed to hide her begrudging respect for Krix. After a few minutes a huge exclamation point flashed across the screen in glaring red, the universal sign that something fucked up. Blinking, Krix typed quickly only to be greeted by the affronting image again. She repeated the process three times with the same result.

"The data's gone," Krix groaned.

"What? How?" Leilatha demanded.

"I'm not sure…" Krix said slowly. "Maybe I need to bypass…"

"Why don't you just check the login registry and clearance protocol of every user that has access to the data bank? That way we can see whether the transference was done through the correct channel or if it was breached by outside machination."

At the blank look Krix gave her, Luva rolled her eyes and shoved the flamer captain aside, taking her place and typing rapidly onto the keyboard.

"Good news," Luva let out a breath of relief. "The data transfer was done by a high ranking researcher nearly a month ago."

"The researcher could have betrayed the Imperium," Leilatha pointed out.

"I don't think so mam, the record shows that the files were relocated to a servitor," Luva continued.

"Then all is lost then," Krix interrupted. "We found the servitor's repair station, every last one of them was destroyed."

"Leave it to you to miss the finer point of things," Luva snooty disappointment made Krix flushed red. "The docking station has fifty servitor slots, but only forty nine are accounted for. Are you following the math Krix?" A middle finger answered her. "Good, and cross-referencing this fact with the data inside the console, we can assume that there's a servitor lose somewhere within the city. That would actually explain why the killing was so thorough."

"I'll inform commissar Tangmo and general Henry of the new intel," Leilatha let her gaze drifted slowly between Krix and Luva. "I would advise that the two of you cease this childish rivalry, lest I lose my patient, because if that come to pass, you have my words that your punishment won't be something as trifle as a kick in the buttocks."

"We'll keep that in mind, mam," Krix said tightly, and for a single moment hers and Luva's hostility found a singular target on Leilatha, the lady commissar returned it with a challenging glare of her own.

"Alright ladies, play nice and keep up the good work," Damien gave them all thumbs up. "I'm gonna go tell Gallus to keep an eye out for any lost servitors and big ass rats that can be skulking around."

Striding back toward the Chaos buffet table, Damien wondered why this place wasn't choked full with flies.

"I don't like this place," Orhul swept his lasgun down every little alley they passed.

"Neither do I," Tangmo admitted, night has fallen and the stuttering streetlights failed completely at keeping the encroaching darkness a bay. The sound of patrols and chatting guardsmen did nothing to elevate the eerie atmosphere, what little voices can be heard were strained into long drawn howls by the acoustic of the city, a ghost beckoning the living to join them. The entire place reminded Tangmo of that cursed village in the second Fatal Frame game.

"No insect, no animals, by the Emperor there's hardly even a breeze," Meko added. "Something's wrong here."

"Thank you, like we don't already know that!" Orhul hissed.

"Calm down, we should be at the checkpoint soon," Tangmo held up his data-slate. "The GPS said it's just around the corner."

"I can see lights ahead," Orhul pointed at the warm glow tucked into the mouth of an alley. "It'll be good to stay in a large group."

"Yeah, all alone in the dark, anything can happen," Tangmo quickened his pace. "But keep an eye out for that servitor Leilatha told us about."

"In this gloom, we'll probably shoot it by mistake," Meko said.

"Trigger discipline then dude, ease the finger off," Tangmo said as they joined a squad of Cadian at the campfire, the men and women staying close to the orange light, gazing warily into the surrounding ebon. And amongst them was a squad of Tallarn led by major Salahdin.

"Oh hey guys, what's up," Tangmo, Orhul and Meko sat down by the fire opposite the Tallarn.

"A pleasant evening to you, lord commissar," Salahdin politeness was brittle.

"Not that pleasant, this place is spooky as hell," Tangmo chuckled dryly then noticed that the Tallarn guardswomen's heads were bare, burkas hanging from their necks like scarfs, revealing curly, straight and short hair in shades of black and brown.

"Is something amiss, lord commissar?" A woman spoke, and it took Tangmo a moment to recognize Zuhra, the curly dark brown lock framing her face was throwing him off.

"Just a little surprised Zuhra," Tangmo tipped his awesome commissar cap at her then turned to regard Salahdin. "So you guys are like the more progressive bunch of Tallarn, that's nice."

"And what do you mean by that?" Salahdin growled at Tangmo.

"Oh, you know," Tangmo went on nonchalantly, "the kind of Tallarn that believes women should have the same equal right as men, and that they can do whatever they like without fear of persecution from an orthodox society and its retarded law regarding gender. You guys are the good Tallarn, am I right?"

"You ignorant little…!"

"Be at peace Khaleela," Saladin's hard look stopped a Tallarn woman with grey streaks in her hair from throttling Tangmo. "His assumptions are not wrong. The ways of our tribe differ greatly from those of Tallarn at large; we do not cling to such derelict practice."

"And his majesty prince Al-Rahman was the one who brought about these positive changes?" Tangmo pressed.

"Ah, so that's why the Praetorian and Grey Watch kept calling him Dainty Boy Al," Meko mused.

"It was his mother actually," pride brimmed across Khaleela's rugged, but admittedly handsome face. "She united all the tribes across the northern, eastern and southern plain under one banner and created a confederacy of fairness and meritocracy. Where every man and woman are equal and free, and can all aspire to greatness by their own mettle."

"What? No fanatic devotion to the God Emperor?" Tangmo looked at his wristwatch. "It's been five minutes since your last prayer, the Master of Mankind is not please."

"We are absolute in our devotion to the God Emperor!" Khaleela snapped. "But our great rayiys Mavia, Al-Rahman's mother, has taught us to balance faith with reason. She said that logic and rationality will triumph over blind fanaticism any day."

"She's a regular Temujin then," Tangmo nodded appreciatively. "And those who oppose her die by the sword?"

"The legacy of all great men and women are written in blood," Salahdin said. "Ours is no different."

"Hey, I ain't complaining dude, I agree," Tangmo said. "So are you guys the first regiment to come from this tribe and serve the Imperium?"

"We are sir," Zuhra's soft, pretty voice was a nice break from Salahdin and Khaleela's gruffness. "It is how we legitimize and reinforce our standing back on Tallarn."

"And your leader sent a prince to lead the regiment?" Orhul piped up. "That doesn't sound like a good idea."

"He is the youngest," Salahdin added reluctantly. "And… because of his affinity toward more peaceful pursues, many within the tribe wanted him blooded."

"Ah, a shame, Al-Rahman seems like a genuinely nice guy," Tangmo continued. "But then, there is only war in this galaxy, the sooner you're baptized in combat, the better." Tangmo stared at Salahdin. "You're his bodyguard, right?"

"Uncle, actually," Salahdin nudged his head at Khaleela who was busying herself with a pan bubbling above the low fire, disgusting slob of melted protein bricks stirring within. "She's the bodyguard, his mother personal handmaiden to be precise."

"Al-Rahman is in good hands then," Tangmo observed. "You two look pretty seasoned."

"I am sworn to protect the colonel from all that threatened his livelihood," Khaleela shot Tangmo a warning look.

"Would you chill woman? I'm not gonna hurt your darling prince," Tangmo shook his head. "But now I'm curious, how does serving in the guards help with your prestige back home?"

"For every mission completed, we sent an astropathic message back to Tallarn detailing our engagement," Zuhra said. "The missive must be written, approved and signed by a higher ranking Imperial officer or commander from another regiment as confirmation for the deed done."

"I see," Tangmo looked thoughtful for a moment, "I think I can help with that, if you agree to join us."

"And why would we do that?" Khaleela hissed lowly.

"The Immortal Spirit's mission is unique, to say the least, it requires a certain delicacy both on and off the battlefield," Tangmo continued. "I want soldiers who are not braindead zealot, but thinking men and women who can adapt to different situations. You guys fit our requirement and Al-Rahman, despite his soft sensibility, looks competent enough as a commander. Stick with us and we'll make a warrior out of him, plus a slew of glowing review for his performance. Besides, you won't find a nicer commissar across the entire Segmentum."

That drew subdue laughter from the Cadian, and although the Tallarn remained silent, the thoughtful look that flashed across Khaleela and Salahdin's faces meant that they were considering his offer.

"I'll let the colonel know," Salahdin said neutrally.

"Wonderful," Tangmo flashed a toothy grin then turned to Meko. "Break out the food man, I'm getting a little hungry."

Meko reached into his backpack and fished out three grey MRE packages, no more eating those disgusting nutrient shits now that the Ghamarhon STC showed them how to grow and make food.

"What's on the menu today?" Orhul asked.

"Let's see," Meko drew closer to the fire so he can read the label. "Braise fish fillet in sweetened yogurt sauce, grilled muuku pork with sour and spicy paste, and assorted stirred fried vegetables topped off with salty black gravy."

"I'll try the fish this time," Tangmo took the MRE, Meko chose the pork and Orhul got the vegetable. The Tallarn watched in fascination as Tangmo, Meko and Orhul tore open a section of the package and pour water into it, steam rising from the sealed top.

"The food's ready," Khaleela announced tersely, drawing the Tallarn's attention away from Tangmo. "Give me your bowls quickly. Zuhra, don't be difficult now girl, hand it over."

"I don't enjoy spending half a day in the latrine," Zuhra eyed the ration with clear vehemence.

"You need to eat," Khaleela said crossly.

"I rather starve than put more of that poison in my mouth," Zuhra shook her head.

"That's an order, private," Khaleela raised her voice.

"Here, have mine," Tangmo popped open the MRE, the savory scent of salty cooked fish mixed with the soft aroma of creamy topping wafted over the fire, followed by the heady fragrance of fried vegetable and the crispy tang of grilled pork. "Looks like you need it more than I do."

"But it's yours sir," Zuhra swallowed loudly despite her attempt to decline.

"I'm not that hungry," Tangmo shrugged. "Come on, give it a try, it's pretty good."

Noticing how Zuhra was slinking away from Khaleela's appraising look, Tangmo continued, "you're not going to let your own guardswoman starve now, are you captain?"

Scoffing, Khaleela growled, "fine."

Zuhra carefully took the hot MRE, lifted up the fork already inside the package, held the white strip of fish coated in fluffy pink cream to her face, then chomped down. Failing miserable to hide her giddy joy, Zuhra wolfed down the food with ravenous vengeance, having obviously been fasting against the usual Tallarn ration. Tangmo was still chuckling when Zuhra finished the MRE and coyly wiped the splotch of cream from her upturned lips.

"That's one more benefit of joining us," Orhul spoke between mouthfuls of green. "Good food."

"He should know," Meko added with a grin. "He's a very picky eater."

"Feeling better?" Tangmo asked Zuhra.

"Very much sir, thank you," the young Tallarn woman nodded.

"Good to hear," Tangmo shifted into a more comfortable position, "because we could be heading out soon."

"Al-Rahman told us as much," Salahdin said.

"Where is he anyway?" Tangmo asked.

"Seeing to the burial of the dead," Salahdin answered.

"An honorable duty," Tangmo commented. "Did you guys have any luck finding that servitor?"

"No sir," Salahdin shoveled the gruel into his mouth. "We searched the entire western sector to no avail. Not a trace of the damn thing anywhere."

"The sooner we find it, the better," Tangmo said.

"What's the hurry?" Khaleela spoke up.

"You seriously don't feel how off this place is?" The Tallarn nodded collectively. "I don't like it here. The way the massacre happens, the sheer scale and method, this is some new Chaos shit we haven't seen before. I mean listen…nothing, just silence so freaking thick you can suffocate. Hell, we've already got more than fifty cases of friendly fire because people's nerves are getting frayed to shit. Thank the Emperor nobody dies."

"Not to mention the rats Brother Damien told us about," Meko grimaced and tossed the empty MRE into the fire.

"Yeah, I hope as fuck he's wrong about that…" Tangmo's word died in his throat when he saw a blood red orb bobbing slowly in the solid darkness of an alleyway across the street.

"Jumping Jesus Christ on a pogo stick!" Tangmo leapt up, voice pitched embarrassingly high, and drew his laspistol. "What in the fuck is that?!"

"By the Emperor! Get up you lazy bastards!" Meko reached for his lasgun and trained it on the singular pinprick of light coming toward them, while Salahdin shouted the Tallarn into firing position.

"Give me some light!" At Tangmo's command, Orhul drew a flashlight from his belt and pointed it forward, bright white light lancing through the gloom. It was the servitor they were looking for, rumbling along on tank tracks, skinless skull twitching to random electrical current.

"Phew! Almost shit myself there!" Tangmo hoarse laugh was joined by the Cadian and Tallarn alike, the Thai bending over to gather his breath. "Alright, let's go get that robot dude – where the fuck did it go?"

How the fuck?! He only looked away for a fucking second!

"He took that smaller corridor over there," Orhul pointed to the right.

"Well let's rock and roll then!" Tangmo bounded forward. "Come on, move your asses! We need to catch that thing!"

Sprinting across the street, flashlights scything the night like a lightsaber battle, Tangmo lead the Cadian and Tallarn guardsmen into a narrow path nestled between the looming buildings. Thankfully, the dirt road went in a relatively straight line, with a few smooth curves and sharp bends.

"We're gaining on him," Tangmo pointed his flashlight at the fresh trail on the ground. "At this rate we're gonna – Gah!"

Tangmo collided into something hard and fleshy, the world spun and he found himself flat on the ground, his face stung as if slapped. Rubbing his sore cheek, Tangmo reached for his fallen flashlight and found Evangeline, the Mordian Iron Guard colonel, flat on her bottom next to him, the woman massaging her breasts with a grimace.

"Are you alright Evangeline?" Tangmo offered his hand but the red faced colonel sprang back to her feet and dusted herself off daintily, her Mordian squad forming up behind her.

"I'm perfectly fine, lord commissar," Evangeline huffed testily.

"Okay," Tangmo nodded politely. "I guess you were chasing the servitor too?"

"That we are sir," Evangeline said as the Cadian and Tallarn joined them.

"Are you still sore about what happened back on Ghamarhon?" Tangmo snickered at the appropriate choice of word.

"I am," Evangeline turned away coyly, arms folded squeamishly over her chest.

Tangmo grinned maniacally, "wait a minute, was that my face in your boobs just now?!"

"Sorry to interrupt lord commissar, but I've found the servitor's trail," Zuhra interrupted just in time before Evangeline went ballistic. "He shouldn't be far off."

"Lead the way Zuhra!" Tangmo dashed after the Tallarn girl, the growing crowd of guardsmen thundering behind them, the combined glare of their flashlights painting the corridor in luminous white.

"Sorry for asking, but why don't you leave that off?" Tangmo saw Zuhra donning her burka again.

"Because my hair would get in my face," Zuhra looked at him like he'd just asked her why water was wet.

"Good point," Tangmo shrugged and saw that the alleyway was opening up into a cul-de-sac, and sure enough the servitor was there, running around in a circle with no apparent destination in its machine mind. "Found it! Okay guys, block the entrance, don't let it leave."

"I can disable it sir," Orhul pulled an EMP grenade from his belt.

"No, we can't risk damaging the data," Tangmo turned to Meko. "Get Ladaee and Elpida here. In the meantime, I'm gonna try and stop that thing."

Holstering his pistol, Tangmo carefully strode toward the lobotomized machine man, Orhul, Evangeline, Salahdin and Khaleela at his side, lasgun trained forward and ready. At the sight of the approaching guardsmen, the servitor gave a siren like whine, eight mechanical arms twitched frantically as it backtracked into a wall, shinning red eyes blinking an epileptic rhythm.

"What the hell?" The closer Tangmo got the more distress the servitor becomes. Then he realized why and waved quickly at the guardsmen. "Lower your weapons, now!"

Trading each other cautious glances, the guardsmen lowered their lasgun. Seeing that the barrels were no longer pointed at him, the servitor calmed down and went still, the glowing light in its sockets no longer flashing.

"Come here boy, that's a good boy, come on!" Tangmo hunched down and tapped his knees like he was summoning a dog. The servitor complied and rolled to a stop in front of him, its metallic ribcages peeling open to reveal a keyboard and a monitor.

"Yo! We're here!" Henry, Ladaee and Elpida burst through the crowd.

"Right on time," Tangmo stand aside and gesture to the servitor. "Do your magic Ladaee."

"With pleasure sir," Ladaee and Elpida swiftly got to work. Ten minutes later, a small disk like those used during the 90s popped out of the servitor's jawless mouth. Taking the disk, the machine man made a noise that sounded eerily like a sigh and went still, all motor function ceasing. Then the keyboard that Ladaee had been typing on cracked opened in two, revealing a large metallic key inside. Taking it, the monitor started playing a prerecorded message, the bedraggled face of an aging man dominating the screen.

"They're already here," he started clichély. "Let this be my final message to those who find this servitor, the information within must be protected at all cause. If the knowledge of the Blackstone fell into the enemy's hand, then doom shall surely come upon the Imperium of Man." A loud explosion erupted behind him, followed by bangs of bolters and…squeaks and chatters of rats? What the fuck? "By the Throne, I must get back to the estate. The other part of the data must be kept safe." He laid his hand on the screen then. "Take care my loyal friend, the secret passage will keep you out of sight." The man hesitated for a second before saying. "My estate is in the Rakarna quarter, number 73364."

The monitor went black, slender tendril of smoke rose from the servitor's skull.

"Well that's beyond fucking stupid," Tangmo made a disgusted face. "I mean shit, if the heretics found this then everything's fucked, the dude just spilled everything."

"Beg your pardon lord commissar, but the encryption on that servitor was one of the strongest I have ever encountered," Ladaee spoke up. "That was why it took me so long to crack it open, I doubt the heretics would be able to decipher it."

"I'll take your words for it," Tangmo pointed at the disk in Ladaee hand. "So that data is incomplete?"

"I'm afraid so," Ladaee nodded. "Any attempt to open the file will fail because the rest of the protocol is missing."

"I guess we're heading to his house then," Tangmo tapped his earbud. "Yo Albert, get me the location of estate 73364 in the Rakarna quarter please."

"Hang on," Albert said. "Okay got it!"

"Well, this isn't inconspicuous at all."

Tangmo couldn't help but agree with Damien. Estate 73364 was a White House looking abode situated on a hill that overlooked the entire settlement, the opulent neighborhood would've looked nice, in a Mary Poppins kinda way, if it wasn't for the dead bodies and bullet holes. Now, almost every guardsman on the planet had their lasguns, bolters, flamers, meltas, rockets and missiles trained on house 73364. With the Space Marines leading the search, they scoured the estate for the second disk. After two hours of fruitless searching, from the attic to the basement, it was by sheer accident that Elpida's clumsiness ripped a great, nine meter tall tapestry in the welcoming hall loose. Behind the somber image of an empty battlefield being watched over by what Tangmo assumed was Death the Horsemen, was an iron archway framing a great metallic door cleverly disguised to blend in with the brick and mortar of the estate.

"How in the hell did we missed this?!" Tangmo declared incredulous.

"If it makes you feel any better, so did the heretics," Henry glanced to his right. "Is that the dude from the clip?"

Tangmo grunted his affirmative. The corpse, broken and mutilated, was the first sign of the trademark Chaos style violence they had come across since arriving on Zyrien. Not that Tangmo was cool with this, but seeing something familiar did brought him a strange measure of peace.

"The keyhole is over here," Damien pointed at the indentation beside the entrance, "Ladaee, would you do the honor?"

"Those Chaos sons of bitches really drop the ball on this one," Tangmo continued as Ladaee pushed the key in, turned, and was rewarded with the loud clangs of releasing locks. "The damn thing is right there."

"It is actually pretty common for people to miss the most obvious thing in front of them," Henry made his comment while Damien and Gallus pulled the doors open. "Okay ladies and gents, stay here while me, Tangmo and Damien poke around in the dark a bit."

The main characters nodded their assent, the new addition to the group was major Gaston of the Iron Guard, Evangeline's attaché, major Moltke, Hildebrandt second in command, Al-Rahman and Salahdin of the Tallarn, and Alistair and Emily of the Praetorian Guard. When Ladaee started making pouty face, Henry went to her side and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, a soft, loving smile gracing his handsome face.

"Don't worry, Damien and Tangmo will keep me safe," Henry said sweetly.

"That we will," Damien nodded and walked into the darkness. "Come on Romeo, let's go."

Tangmo and Damien rolled their eyes when Henry gave Ladaee a parting kiss on the cheek, the gathered women gasped and squealed in delight, before joining them.

"Showoff," Damien groaned.

"Do be jealous," Henry grinned brightly, "you see anything?"

"Yeah," Damien scanned the cramp room that stank of rotten food and human waste. "Fifteen bodies, all of them alive but very weak and malnourished."

"Watch my six, I'm going in," flashlight held forward, laspistol holstered at his side, Tangmo carefully edges toward the nearest form lying face down on the floor, the white glare revealing a dirty mat of black hair crowning an unwashed dark green dress. Very slowly, Tangmo knelt down and gently eased the woman, no, a girl actually, onto her back. A moan escaped her cracked lips and slowly her eyelids twitched open, bloodshot gaze held dizzily on Tangmo.

"Hey, it's okay I'm here to – Ah!"

Thanks to his super Muay Thai reflex, Tangmo dodged the laspistol upward swing and scrambled back behind Damien's hulking leg.

"Stay back!" Her hoarse bellow woke up the others, all of them girls, the youngest about seven and the oldest, that being the one holding them at gunpoint, looked about fifteen.

"It's alright, we are – hey!" Damien shouted when a lasbolt ricocheted off his left pauldron. "That was very rude!"

"Brother Damien what is happening in there?" Leilatha's voice boomed from beyond and the girl's face morphed into one of absolute fear.

"They've found us," she panted heavily, eyes bulging with rising hysteria. "You're not taking us! I won't let you! I WON'T LET YOU!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Yo! Dude! Chill! Calm dude! Yo! What the fuck?!"

Tangmo, Henry and Damien yelled at the same time, arms waving frantically in the air as the lead girl pressed the barrel of her laspistol to her temple. Around her the others were taking on the same suicidal posture, guns and knives held awkwardly to heads and necks. Tears streamed down their dirty faces, weapons shaking in rictus grips, but the desolate look of determination told the trio that they would go through with it.

"Yo dude! Put the gun down!" Henry said quickly. "We're your friends, we're not here to hurt you, we're here to help!"

"Lies, lies, LIES!" The girl screeched. "That's what they said when they killed father!"

"We're not the bad guys!" Damien took off his scary, but awesome, Space Marine helmet and put on his most disarming smile. "See?"

"No…" the girl gave a surrendering sigh and slowly squeezed the trigger. Shit, shit, shit! Fuck! What the fuck were they going to do?!

"When I am down, and oh my soul, so weary," Damien soft melodic voice stunned the girls into immobility, confusion raked their faces. "When troubles come, and my heart, burdened be."

"Then I am still and wait here in the silence," Henry added his soothing verse to the mix.

"Until you come and sit a while with me," Tangmo picked up the lyrics as the three voices joined in angelic harmony.

"You raise me up, so I can stand on mountain. You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas. I am strong, when I am on your shoulders. You raise me up, to more than I can be."

Holy shit this was actually working. The girl's gaping shock was unraveling into calm, the tension in her trembling muscles easing, the laspistol drooping slowly downward until it went slack at her side, swaying from her finger like a pendulum. Although very obviously still distrustful of the singing trio, a sort of curious serenity had replaced the stark hardness from before. Seizing on the shift in temperament, Damien spread his arms wide as if to embrace her and stroll casually forward, not fast, not slow, but just about right, Tangmo and Henry following close in his shadow. The girl flinched, but did little else as the trio continued to sing.

"There is no life, no life without its hunger. Each restless heart beats so imperfectly. But when you come and I am filled with wonder. Sometimes I think, I glimpse eternity."

The clatters of knives and guns rang around them, the girls shuffled out of the shadow and gathered in front of the trio, and instead of wretched despair hope now gleamed on their gaunt visage. Damien knelt down before the sobbing lead girl, arms unfurled, and sang the final verse.

"You raise me up, so I can stand on mountain. You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas. I am strong, when I am on your shoulders. You raise me up, to more than I can be."

Laspistol bouncing off the floor, the lead girl bawled miserably and leapt into Damien waiting embrace, crying into his ceramite chest as the Space Marine wrapped her up inside his arms. Soon the other girls converged on the Astartes, their tiny bodies clinging to his massive form, seeking safety and sanctuary from the Emperor's Angel of Death. Minutes passed before Damien finally spoke through the chiming twinkle of tiny sobs.

"Time to leave this horrid place little ones, come, I promise that me and mine will keep you safe."

After a moment of hesitation, the girls nodded weakly.

"Come along now," with that Damien got to his feet, six girls cradled in his arms, two dangling from his pauldrons, and slowly strode toward the exit. Tangmo and Henry offered their hands politely to those that remained, the girls nervously took it and were guided after the Space Marine.

"Lower your weapon please," Damien said as they got back into the hallway, subdued orange light casting an easy hue on them. "And can someone please cover him up."

Emily, Orhul, Xiphos and Al-Rahman quickly threw the wall hanging over the dead man before any of the girls noticed, a small mercy given what had befall them.

"These are my friends," Damien lowered the girls down in front of Ryvin and Zuhra. "They will get you fed and clean, you don't need to be afraid anymore, okay?"

The girls whimpered when Zuhra approached and scrambled behind Ryvin like ducklings flocking to their mother. The Tallarn woman looked a little disheartened but kept a respectable distant as Ryvin led them away. Come to think of it, they all seem scared of every woman in the hall.

"Wait! Mr. Space Angel!" The girl cried and fished a disk out of her skirt, handing it to Damien. "Father told me to give it to our friends. Here, please take it."

"Thank you," Damien took the disk. "What is your name little girl?"

"Fana."

"Thank you Fana, I'll protect this with my very life," Damien gave her a wave goodbye, Fana reciprocate with a demur one as Ryvin led the girls outside.

Following the rescue, the trio and the main characters relocated to a destroyed dining room, where a long oaken table stood miraculously unscathed. Now, gathered around the flat, dirty tabletop, the main characters listened intently to the audio clip taken from the destroyed CCTV in the hall, the horrific crunch and tear of a limb being ripped messily asunder blared from the speakers of Ladaee's laptop.

"Your stubbornness is most admirable, but truly ill advised, Mr. Oritius," the velvety smooth voice of a woman easily overpowered the man's tortured wail. "So I shall ask again, where is your daughter and the information she carries?"

"Safe," the man slurred, his voice jagged with pain, "away from the likes of you."

Another snap of bones and Oritius screamed anew.

"I know they are close," the woman crooned sweetly. "So why not save yourself the agony?" She giggled huskily. "Do you enjoy it?"

"Sister," another woman, eerily calm, interrupted the torture. "I'm afraid we can no longer enjoy this planet's hospitality. The astropathic guild had successfully sent out a distress choir, Imperial reinforcements are en route and the time is not yet right to reveal ourselves. We need to leave."

"But the data have not been found," the other woman said.

"She will not be please, but we got more than enough recruits to soothe over the lack of success regarding the Standard Template Construct."

A pause, then, "very well, we shall withdraw. Does our ally require additional nourishment?"

"The rats have more than enough food for the Warp transit. Come along then sister, let's not tarry, the others are getting impatient."

"Lucky you," the metallic cocking was quickly followed by a loud bang. After the thumping of iron sabaton faded away, the audio clip ended. Nobody spoke for the next minutes, none dared to acknowledge what they've just heard. Knowing that someone had to break the ice eventually, Tangmo elected himself as the speaker:

"This…is bad."

Low murmur reverberated in agreement.

"Who were those women?" Xiphos voiced the question on everybody's mind.

"I have a theory," Tangmo continued cautiously. "But nobody's going to like it."

Tangmo swept his gaze across the table, gouging the emotion of the main characters, finding that most, like Krillen, Xiphos, Bruce and Alistair, seemed open to what he was about to say. While others, like Evangeline and Al-Rahman, looked affronted with the direction he was taking. As for Hildebrandt, well, he doesn't emote.

"Let's hear it then," Leilatha said crisply.

Exhaling heavily and turning to Henry and Damien for support, his bros giving him a firm nod, Tangmo steeled himself and said, "evidences seem to suggest that the perpetrators of this attack are fallen Adepta Sororitas."

"That is not possible," Al-Rahman gasped, his cheeks fluster red.

"You are wrong," Evangeline glared at him like he'd just murdered her dog. "The Adepta Sororitas are incorruptible."

"The evidence is incriminating to say the least, colonel," Gallus spoke up. "I have run ballistic test and simulation with my men, and collected every discarded shell and remains of bolt rounds that could be found. Every shot fired matched the characteristic of a Godwyn-De'az pattern bolter, a model used exclusively by the Sororitas."

"Couldn't this have been some heretics using stolen Imperial weapons?" Krix pipped up. "I remembered seeing gangers back in Cadia smuggling and using bolters before."

"Discounting the sheer flawlessness of the attack," the usually silent Hildebrandt said. "Godwyn bolters are not common commodities within the Imperium at large, the manufacturing and distribution is closely guarded by the Ecclesiarchy. For this Chaos warband to field them in such a large number points to the commissar earlier prognosis."

"All of this is nothing but speculation," Evangeline raised her voice.

"Based on conclusive evidence," Henry shot back, getting rather annoyed with the Mordian colonel obtuseness.

"This could very well be the heretic's attempt to slander and turn Imperial forces against each other," Evangeline countered lamely.

"Oh please, you're denying everything because your girlfriend's a nun."

Evangeline cursed loudly and made to advance on Henry but was held back by Xiphos and Luva. Across the table, Leilatha drew her laspistol but a stern look from Tangmo dissuaded her from using it. Standing next to the lady commissar, Ladaee extremely judgmental look made Henry squirmed like a scolded child.

"Evangeline, calm the fuck down right now!" Tangmo's pissed off command brought the unfolding calamity to a halt. Breathing heavily, Evangeline shrugged off Xiphos and Luva, adjusted her jacket, and stood straight with chin held high.

"Please forgive my lapse in manner, lord general, lord commissar," Evangeline expertly smoothened her tone. "I behave most disgracefully, for this I beg your forgiveness and would submit myself to the required disciplinary action."

"That won't be necessary, colonel, I was the dick in this instance," Henry glanced guiltily at Evangeline, who nodded slowly to his apology, not quite ready to make peace but not wanting to wage war either.

"Believe me Evangeline, it's not my intention to slander the Sororitas," Tangmo put on a kindly face. Hey, he might as well score some point with the Mordian now that Henry fucked up. "Every possibility has not been discarded and I personally hope that my own hypothesis is wrong. But given the current discovery, I have no choice but to assume the worst. I know that you're upset but please understand that I did not come to this conclusion lightly."

Dropping her granite visage, Evangeline let out a heavy sigh then smiled at Tangmo, the pretty curve of her lips was breathtaking to behold.

"Thank you lord commissar," she nodded gratefully, and goddamn why did she have to be so beautiful?

"The women in the recorded vox mention something about rats?" Al-Rahman brought the meeting back on track. "What did they mean?"

"This research center was collecting information on the elusive element known as the Blackstone," Damien's timbre was grim. "From the data that had been deciphered so far, the scientists have come to a consensus that the Blackstone is some sort of Warp energy conduit. Given the correct persuasion it can either be used to nullify Warp energy, like the destroyed Cadian pylon, or enhance its effect on the material realm. Unfortunately, all of the Blackstone samples have been taken." The Canadian Space Marine paused for dramatic effect. "Another part of the research focuses on the topic of Warp mutation, and this is where things get really scary."

Dropping his serious façade, Damien became more animated, "our dear departed Oritius have been working on a theory that was close to fruition before his demise. He claims that he had discovered a species of hyper intelligent rat humanoid lurking beneath the soil of countless Imperial worlds. Most of the data he got were from credible testimonies across Segmentum Obscura, Segmentum Solar and Segmentum Ultima."

Damien let the murmur settle down before continuing.

"Judging from the eaten corpses we found, I'm going with the assumption that these rat people are now working in league with the Archenemy, or at the very least with this particular warband. That's what Albert had been able to decipher so far, the rest will take days, maybe even weeks to go through."

Tangmo sighed and rubbed his eyes, unbelieving of all the crazy shit that was suddenly piling on them. The evil Sororitas thing was hardly surprising, everybody knows about Miriael Sabathiel, a Slaanesh champion who leads a warband of corrupted Sisters of Battle across the galaxy killing things for shits and giggles. Then we have the fucking Skaven. Seriously, what in the fuck?! Those bastards were supposed to be in Warhammer Fantasy, not here. God fucking damn it, aren't Orks, Tyranids, Tau and Necrons bad enough already?! Shit!

"What do we do about this information?" Krillen asked. "Do we let the rest of the Immortal Spirit know of this? This could cause hysteria amongst the civilian population."

"We will not announce this discovery, but we will not withhold it either," Henry said. "If asked for clarity, related information will be given, not before."

"If we linger too long, gossip can ferment and become an even bigger problem," Leilatha made her input.

"Albert can tell us if things start to heat up," Henry continued. "When that happens, we can send father Joseph in to relay the truth of the matter. He already got quite a following, people will listen to him."

Agreeing nod answered him.

"Was there anything else we needed to discuss?" Henry asked.

"There's one more thing," Tangmo glanced at Alistair and Al-Rahman. "I'm gonna cut to the chase, are you two coming with us?"

"We now face an adversary never before seen by the Imperium of Man, I can only deem it wise that we form a union with a worthy ally," Alistair's English was immaculate. "I have decided that joining the Immortal Spirit battlegroup will be in the best interest of the 815th Praetorian Guard. We shall gladly join you, even if we must endure the Sleaghadharian."

"And you colonel?" Tangmo turned to Al-Rahman.

"I am inclined to take your offer, lord commissar," Al-Rahman spoke with trained decorum, but Tangmo was able to detect a boyish eagerness glinting in his eyes. "The Ministorum have not given us any directive after the mission is accomplished. I believe that my regiment can do greater goods for the Imperium if we are to join you."

"Have you discussed this with your uncle and handmaiden yet?" The two Tallarn baulk at Tangmo's directness, not at all pleased that they've now become the center of attention.

"They will do as I command," Al-Rahman did his best to appear authoritative, but it came out more like a kid trying too hard to be an adult.

"You're more than welcome to join us, but go over this with them first," Tangmo continued. "It would be better if all of you are on the same page, it's a group decision after all. Take your time, we'll take off in twenty four hours."

"Very well lord commissar," Al-Rahman conceded tightly. Beside him, Salahdin gave Tangmo an unreadable but not unfriendly look. Well, at least that's progress.

"I guess that's it then, welcome to our merry band of misfits colonel Alistair, colonel Al-Rahman," Tangmo smiled. "And would you look at that, I didn't need to kick anyone in the ass this time."

Laughter rippled across the table, but Evangeline pointed glare cut deep into his throat.

"Alrighty then, let's get out of here."

At Tangmo announcement the main characters filed out of the destroyed room, some chatting with each other and some, like himself, were content with thoughtful solitude. He traded looks with Henry and Damien, all three of them sharing an understanding nod before slowly making their way outside. Tangmo was the last to step out on to the courtyard. Taking a deep breath of the chilly air, Tangmo glanced up at the night sky, the Milky Way bright in its cosmic radiance, an ocean of diamond glittering into infinity. Tangmo sighed, lamenting the beauty above, how can something so divine harbor such dark unspeakable horror? The universe truly is unkind.