The Multiverse Project: Warhammer 40,000

"There's fucking rats everywhere!" Henry yelled into Damien's awesome Space Marine helmet.

"Yeah, I heard about that," Damien typed leisurely onto the keyboard connected to a large pile of PC towers haphazardly stacked together in a trademark display of the Mechanicus technological ineptitude, "haven't run into any ourselves though."

"That's fucking nice!" The roar of heavy bolters punctured Henry's heated words. "I'm up to my neck in fucking skaven! It's like all of them are ganging up on my tank!"

"Well, they probably like big shiny things," Damien frowned when he reached a block in the code sequence. "Sidonius, help me out with this line please."

"On it, Brother Sergeant," the tactical marine strode across the great Mechanicus temple and took his place at another console beside Damien, his fingers moving with careful reservation.

"Wait, you're already at the STC?!" Henry demanded.

"Yep, there wasn't that many orks around," Damien continued. "So yeah, we got here pretty quick, despite that fucking bell."

"God, I hate you so – shit! Fuck! Gotta go!" The last thing Damien heard before Henry cut his transmission was an abominable ratty shriek. Shrugging, Damien went back to work on the STC, all the while skimming through different frequencies to get an overview on the situation below. Apparently the skaven has entered the fray. Welp, all of them saw that coming, but the rat bastards were proving to be quite a menace, attacking guardsmen and orks indiscriminately, panicky shouts and screams accompanied the hellish din of discharging weaponries. After a while, he reached Tangmo's channel and what he heard made him flinched.

"Fall back! Jesus Christ! Don't trade shot with them, get to cover! Go, go, go, get the fuck back! Covering fire! Covering fire!"

"Tangmo? Dude, what's happening?" Damien never heard him this distress, something was definitely wrong.

"Sororitas! Fucking Chaos Sororitas man! They're wrecking our shit!" Tangmo was panting hard.

"What can I do?" Damien asked quickly.

"Get the STC and take it back to the Immortal Spirit! Those bolter bitches are obviously looking for it – argh!" An explosion went off nearby, Tangmo roaring in frustration. "Get inside, go!"

Damien was about to say more when the transmission ended. Great, here he was up in a skyscraper while his friends fought, and quite possibly die, below. And he can't do anything about it.

"Brother Sergeant," Gallus lay a calming hand on his pauldron. "The commissar and the general are in the Emperor's hands now."

"You're right," Damien sighed and went back to work on the STC, "we need to complete our mission."

"The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can join the fray," Gallus continued, "if master Coreth can drop us off in a hot landing zone that is."

Smirking beneath his awesome Space Marine helmet, Damien picked up the pace, "you are absolutely right my friend."

"Oh shit bro! Keep your fucking heads down!" Tangmo ducked beneath the exploding sandbags and waited until the barrage ran its course before rising above the dwindling parapet and returned fire on the advancing Chaos Sisters. Goddamn it, none of the bolter bitches were going down.

"Incoming!" Orhul's warning herald a horrific rocket salvo that tore the trench apart, killing the guardsmen in droves. And to make matters worse, the hellish gong came again, not as bad as before but unpleasant enough that it turned Tangmo's vision into a shuddering tunnel of blurry shape. Roaring, he fired blindly at the Chaos Sisters, but the nuns were hardly perturbed by the Imperial Guards smattering resistance as they advanced across no man's land. Unlike the orks and skaven, the Sororitas move through the battlefield with the grace and instinct of battle hardened professional soldiers, fast, flexible and deadly, their weapons making short work of the entrenched guardsmen as they crept closer.

"Someone needs to destroy that fucking bell!" Kenshin hissed through gritted teeth.

"Here's the coordinate!" Min Jae tapped his data-slate quickly and handed it to Tangmo.

"Shit, it's out of our artillery range," Tangmo growled.

"Not that it matters," Orhul grimaced. "Vakon's guns are still fucked."

"Herr commissar, I suggest that we call in admiral Yi's air support," Hildebrandt popped a few shots above the trench before ducking back down.

"Holy shit, I completely forgot about that, thanks dude! Meko!" Tangmo waved the captain over and took the headset from the big radio pack on his back. "Admiral Yi, come in, this is the Immortal Spirit battlegroup, we need your help!"

"Go ahead lord commissar," admiral Yi's calm voice answered him.

"I'm sending you the coordinate of Yu Sok monastery," Tangmo hurriedly tapped Min Jae's data-slate. "That place got taken over by Chaos and I want you to blow it straight to hell, no survivor!"

"I already have bombers on stand by, they will reach the target soon," Yi replied crisply.

"The sooner the better admiral, we're taking one hell of a beating here," Tangmo cringed when a Buxiunese guardsman flew off the fire step not three feet from him, everything above his mandible a molten charred mess.

"Is the situation really that severe lord commissar?" Yi asked.

"Yeah, things are pretty fucking bad dude," Tangmo chuckled mirthlessly.

"The bombers will be above the target in six minutes, lord commissar, you have my word on that," Yi declared sternly.

"Thank you admiral," Tangmo returned the headset to Meko and fired a burst at a Battle Sister trying to sprint for the trench. Sparks ricocheted off her ceramite armor as she dashed back into a crater where her squad was hunkered down. Now that the Sororitas's advance has been stalled, Tangmo finally got a good look at their adversary. There were two kinds of Chaos Sisters that he could see. One variant wore a corrupted Sororitas armor painted in shades of black and violet, every piece of armor decorated with lecherous effigy of love making and alluring form frozen in gleaming gold, they also laughed a lot and moved in a rather seductive manner. The others were clad in red and brass, with spikes, chains and skulls adorning their armors. These gals screamed and cursed a lot, casting aside feminine grace for a full on violent barbarian gimmick.

"Keep them pin, don't let up!" Tangmo peppered a muddy depression, forcing a purple Sororitas carrying a heavy bolter back into cover.

"Why are you so mean to us?!" She crooned throatily, her voice carried unnaturally across the din of battle. A sickeningly sweet fragrance accompanied the melodic resonance, an ethereal thing that caressed with a sensual loving touch. Disgust shielded Tangmo from the corruption.

"Because we hate you, bitch!" Tangmo shouted back.

"But we love you all so much!" The woman giggled wistfully, childlike and innocent, her squad mate joining in.

"Fuck you!" Tangmo yelled.

"Oh! Is that a promise?"

"I think you should stop talking," Lingxin advised him.

"Agreed," Tangmo nodded then laughed when he heard the roar of engines rumbling above them.

"The air force is here!" Someone in the trench yelled, cheers answered his announcement. Up in the air, three wedges cut cleanly across the smoky sky, heading unchallenged toward the monastery. That was until streaks of anti-aircraft missiles and streams of tracer rounds tore into the aerial formation.

"What in the flying fuck?!" Tangmo yelled as the bombers fell from the sky in flaming, shredded pieces, those that survived the salvo broke formation and shot back up into high orbit, "who the fuck shot them?!"

"The batteries came from the expeditionary camp," Orhul spoke up.

"Are you sure?" Tangmo glared southward.

"Positive," Orhul nodded.

"Jesus Christ almighty," Tangmo pressed his earbud so hard that it was almost lodged into his ear canal. "Minoru, Feng, you stupid pieces of shit what in the fuck did you just do?!"

Eerie silence answered him.

"Answer me you motherfucking dog shits!"

Only faint sounds of relaxed breathing can be heard.

"What's going on?" Meko asked hurriedly.

"I think we just got stabbed in the back," Tangmo hissed lowly then switched to a wide frequency. "This is lord commissar Tangmo speaking, what in the hell is happening with the expeditionary force?! Have they betrayed us? What in the blazing fuck is happening over there?!"

"The generals' closest officers and their personal guards just opened fire on us sir!" A young female voice answered him hysterically.

"What about the rest of the expeditionary force?" Tangmo pressed on.

"We don't know what to do sir!" The woman continued. "We're running around blind and getting gunned down by our own high command. Please sir, you have to help us!"

"What is your name soldier?" Tangmo said slowly.

"Kimiko, sergeant Kimiko sir," the woman responded.

"Now listen to me very carefully Kimiko," Tangmo spoke sternly but calmly. "The expeditionary force's high command has betrayed us, your job from here on end will be to neutralize them and silence those anti-air craft guns."

"But…the officers and their men are better equipped than us," Kimiko stuttered.

"But there are more of you," Tangmo went on. "I have seen the courage and determination of Kuronese and Buxiunese guardsmen sergeant, and I believe you can overcome the odds. Take those traitors out, because if you don't, then we'll be all righteously fucked. Understand?"

"…Yes sir."

"Emperor speed sergeant," Tangmo cut the transmission.

"Thanks a fucking lot!" Min Jae snapped at Kenshin and Lingxin.

"Go fuck yourself!" Kenshin shot back.

"Seriously?! We're about to get murder fuck by a bunch of psycho nuns and you idiots are still fighting?!" Tangmo's annoyed outburst was interrupted by a harrowing war cry that erupted across the battlefield, a choir of hellish sirens about to descend upon the earth. The timbre struck them like something physical. The sickening stench of wet blood flooded the air.

"Onward sisters! Blood for the Blood God!"

As one, the Sororitas emerged from their cover and advanced on the trench, heavy infantry leading the charge, suppressing the guardsmen with heavy bolt rounds and melta beams, while the standard Battle Sisters followed closely in their shadow, laying down burst of accurate shots and decapitating those still returning fire.

"Oh shit!" Tangmo fired off a couple of shots before taking cover. "How many trenches do we have left?"

"One more before we have to fall back to the abandoned town," Meko answered.

"We'll take our chances with the town, the trenches are fucking deathtraps!" Tangmo baulk at how close the Sororitas were now, he could see the Khornate sisters wearing a demented smile, moments away from sprinting for the trench.

"Smoke!" Tangmo yelled down the trench. "Get your smoke grenade ready!"

Orhul tossed him one and Tangmo coiled his finger around the pin.

"Make ready, on my mark!" His command was echoed down the corridor. "Pull the pin! Throw!"

The canisters flew over the trench, bounced and rolled across the field before popping open a few feet away from the Sororitas's iron boots.

"Chuck your grenades at them! Frags, kraks, anything! Throw at will!" Tangmo hurled a pineapple over his head, around him every guardsman were doing the same, their ordnance disappearing behind thick cloud of black and red smoke. Flashes of light bloomed behind the churning curtain, follow by enraged scream as the suppressing fire stuttered and, in some places, stopped completely.

"Fall back to the town, call for a general withdraw!" Still firing into the rolling smoke, Tangmo climbed out of the trench, got down on one knee, and with the help of the main characters, covered the guardsmen's retreat.

Damien was moments away from typing in the last sequence of codes when orkish howls erupted outside the machine temple. Grabbing his bolter, Damien and the Marines fall into defensive position behind pillars and overturned metal furniture, their weapons trained on the tall arching church door. But no gunfire or bloodthirsty roar came, only horrid wet tearing and agonizing cries. What in the fuck was going on? Abruptly the sound ended, and all that remained was a complete deep silence.

"Hello? Is anybody here?" A tiny fearful voice echoed from outside the closed door. "Please, I need help!"

"Syrathel?!" Damien raised the volume of his awesome Space Marine helmet in disbelief.

"Brother Sergeant?!" The seer gasped. "Oh, thank the God Emperor, I am saved!"

"How in the fuck are you here?!" Damien asked.

"Please Brother Sergeant, there are orks and ratmen everywhere," weak tapping came from the door. "I can hear them just around the corner, please Brother Sergeant let me in!"

"Hold your position!" Damien told his squad. "I'm going to ask again Syrathel, how did you end up here?"

"Brother Sergeant, please!" Syrathel started sobbing, banging more franticly on the entrance. "Let me in!"

"Answer the question woman!"

"The orks kidnapped me while I was blessing the camp's outer perimeter in the dead of night, they wanted to make me their slave. Brother Damien please open up!"

"How fucking stupid do you think I am?! I'm not falling for that shit you unsanctioned psyker bitch!"

"Please! I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You know what? Fuck this!" Damien shouldered his bolter and fired two shots at the door. Unfortunately, he forgot to load the Kraken rounds, so the bolt didn't penetrate the ten inches of steel. Expecting a prissy scream, what Damien got instead was a disappointed tsk that sounded like it belonged to a nasty headmistress.

"I did try to be polite, Brother Sergeant."

The iron doors burst open, flying across the hall like cardboard boxes caught in a hurricane, the bent and twisted partitions crashing into the far wall with a shuddering bang. And strolling leisurely through the destroyed entrance was Syrathel. Shedding the Greeco robe, the woman was now clad in a Sororitas pattern armor of gleaming azure trimmed in gold with flowing watery design etched upon the surface, translucent strips of cloth fluttered down her back like a cape, and in her hand was an evil looking staff, the spiked crown curving upward like bladed wings.

"Open fire, kill the witch!" Damien and his Marines unleashed a hellish barrage on the woman. Syrathel lifted up a bored hand and the storm of bolts smashed into an invisible force field, the spent rounds clattering harmlessly around her feet.

"Enough of that now," at Syrathel's gentle tapping, the floor bulged then exploded, peppering the Space Marines with fragments of rockcrete and steel as copper pipes reared upward, their movement serpentine. Like cobra the animated tubes lashed out in a blur, striking down the Astartes with the force of a battering ram, before wrapping them up in a crushing vice until sparks and cracks ruptured their armor. Sidonius and Manus, having fought the binding most valiantly, was impaled through the shoulders and hung from a pillar like macabre tapestries. Himself immobile by the crushing python pipes, Damien can do nothing as he was hurled toward the approaching Syrathel and forced to his knees before the woman.

"I should've blown your fucking head off when I had the chance!" Damien growled at Syrathel.

"That was your mistake, Brother Sergeant," Syrathel grabbed his awesome Space Marine helmet and wrenched it off, the metals scalding his scalp. She glanced around the hall, at his incapacitated men, then back to him. "Where is the commissar?"

"Aww, you miss him?" Damien laughing ended when Syrathel back handed him with her gauntleted fist. It fucking hurt, he can taste blood in his mouth.

"Such a shame," Syrathel rolled her wrist. "I was dying to see him."

"What, Feng and Minoru not good enough in bed?" This time a punch busted his cheek open.

"Men, so crass and vulgar," Syrathel shook her head and strode over to the STC. Craning his neck back, Damien saw that the Chaos Sister was actually proficient with computer, fingers dancing easily across the keyboard. Shit. But soon enough her typing became more aggressive, a frown cracking her serene visage. After a few minutes the pipes lifted Damien up, the suddenness causing him to yelp, and dropped him down in front of Syrathel.

"It appears that a final code sequence is needed to initiate the data transfer," Syrathel said nonchalantly.

"The answer is no bitch, I'm not gonna help you," Damien rolled his eyes.

"Oh you will," Syrathel giggled, amused by his defiance. "Nobody say no to me."

"Wanna bet?" Damien grinned nastily even when veins of blue electric bolts coalesced around Syrathel's right hand.

"I'm not a follower of Slaanesh, I do not take pleasure from inflicting pain," Syrathel knelt down until they were eye level and stroke his bleeding face, letting him feel the surging electricity needled his skin. "But I do take joy in completing a task, especially when it comes to the dismantling of one's spirit. To see something so proud reduced to nothing but a weeping ruin is a…rapturous experience to say the least."

"Kinky," Damien deadpanned, the voltage prickling his skin growing more intense.

"This is your last chance for pleasantly, Brother Sergeant," Syrathel voice lowered darkly.

"Fuck you."

"So be it then."

"Tennoheika banzai!"

Tangmo watched in dismay as six Kuronese guardsmen banzai charged a squad of Chaos Sisters, rushing forth from their overrun barricade of chest high rubble, death over dishonor. None of them made it two steps before getting cut down to pieces, the unlucky bastard that survived the volley got his neck crushed agonizingly slow by the boot of a cackling Khornate sister. Not far down the road, a group of Slaanesh sisters bathed a hut in burning promethium. The Buxiunese squad that had been stubbornly holding the position barreled onto the street, screaming and wreathed in flame, flailing in agony before collapsing into burning soot, the sisters moaned in ecstasy.

The situation on their front was bad, and that's putting it lightly. Although they've managed to fall back to the abandoned town, linked up with surviving companies from the Immortal Spirit battlegroup and the expeditionary force, and bolstered the place with heavy guns and impromptu defenses, the Chaos Sisters were still on their asses. And goddamned, they were hard to kill. There must be thousands of those crazy nuns closing in on them and he managed to kill only five. Five! Fuck!

"Any words from anybody else?!" Tangmo turned to Meko.

"None sir," Meko shook his head and put away his headset. "All I'm hearing are snippets of screams and incoherent orders. The frontline is in total disarray."

"What's the plan sir?" Orhul slammed a new power cell home and braced the rapid-las on the window sill of the one storey house they were in.

"Ease up Orhul, the barrel's going to melt," Tangmo pointed at the white hot muzzle.

"I would if they will. Shit!" Bolt rounds tore into the wall next to Orhul's head and the captain responded with a quick return burst. The four Sororitas trying to advance up the street ducked for cover and slunk back toward their battle line.

"They're prodding us," Min Jae observed.

"Why? They could easily plow through our defenses right now," Lingxin spoke up.

"They're preparing for an all out charge," Kenshin hissed.

"Won't be long then," Tangmo slid a bayonet down the muzzle of his busted up Zetton lasgun. "This is gonna get up close and ugly, make ready."

The guardsmen were preparing their close quarter weapons when a low rumbling noise, not that dissimilar to a Viking battle horn, reverberated through the town, so loud that the furniture and dusts were shaken loose.

"Oh fucking shit, here they come!" Tangmo went to stand beside Orhul and trained his lasgun down the street, the howling horn had gone silent but the earth continued to tremble. Then they heard the roar, loud, boisterous and feminine, an all-encompassing thunder that rose in cadence as the heartbeats passed.

"That's kinda loud," Orhul turned to face him.

"Yeah," Tangmo was getting a little freaked out. "I didn't think there were so many."

"Feels like an army out there," Meko made his input.

"Dude, you are seriously not helping!" Tangmo gritted his teeth when he saw a churning mass of people bulling up the street toward them, "contact!"

What came charging out of the roiling dust made Tangmo gaped, his muscles locking up as he took in the sight before him. Naked women in the hundreds, lean, muscular and beautiful, were charging straight for them. Of course the evil nuns were going to have their own version of Repentia, but instead of rocking the semi-nude BDSM outfit like the pious and decent Sisters of Battle, the Chaos Sisters replaced them with psychotic Viking berserkers, every one of them wielding chainswords and chainaxes. Black and red war paint adorned their bare bodies, while those that wore anything were clad in bikini armors like Red Sonja or those nipple plates thing Dejah Thoris wore. Yep, this was extremely distracting.

"Kill them you fucking idiots!" Lingxin bellowed and fired her lasgun on full auto at the berserkers. That snapped Tangmo and the men out of their stupor, and soon every gun was brought to bear. As Tangmo had feared, they don't go down easy. Who the fuck survives three shots to the head?!

"Sorry!" Tangmo gave Lingxin an apologetic smile.

"Men! Moments away from dying and it only took a pair of tits to get them distracted!" Lingxin snarled at him.

"Several exquisite pairs of tits!" Tangmo barked a laughed. "Keep up the good job colonel!"

"Someone has to do the work," Lingxin vehemently took down one berserker after another.

"That's good, channel those anger and jealousy into something productive," Tangmo dropped a woman with a headshot.

"Oh, get fucked!" Lingxin yelled at him.

"Hopefully not by them!" Tangmo dashed toward a table and pushed it against the building single entrance. "Brace the door and stay away from the windows, don't let them get close!"

With the help of Min Jae and a couple of Cadian troopers, Tangmo braced the door the same moment chopping blows of axes and swords began tearing away at the wooden frame, the berserkers roared and howled with unrestrained bloodlust.

"We're thinning their number," Orhul held the trigger down, sweeping the rapid-las in a zigzagging motion. "There are only a dozen of them left now!"

"Can someone please nade those bitches!" Tangmo yelled as grasping hands now clawed through the jagged gaps on the door, jeering and promising them horrific death.

"Fire in the hole!" Meko threw a frag out the window and Tangmo ducked. Woods, bloods and limbs flew over him. Popping his head above the table, Tangmo found splinters and dead, naked bodies piling high where the door used to be.

"Shit, anyone dead?" Murmuring no answered Tangmo, much to his relief. "Okay, check your ammo. There's gonna be another wave coming…"

"He taua! He taua! Ka mate! Ka mate! Ka ora! Ka ora! Ka mate! Ka mate! Ka ora! Ka ora! Tenei te tangata puhuruhuru, nana nei i tiki mai whakawhiti te ra! A upane! Ka upane! A upane! Ka upane, whiti te ra!"

"…Was that a fucking haka?" Tangmo's face scrunched up in confusion.

"Incoming!" Kenshin bellowed as another charge came. Pointing his lasgun outside, Tangmo saw that beside the naked Scandinavia berserkers, a horde of tanned skin Maori women, hellish tattoos making a fearsome pattern across their naked bodies, were amongst the attackers. And holy shit, they were fast.

"Oh fuck!" Tangmo hefted up his lasgun and threw it like a javelin at the oncoming mob, managing to impale a Maori berserker in the left breast. "Fall back to a more defensible position, retreat!"

Not a second after that a Maori woman leapt through an open window and pounced on a Buxiunese guardsman. She fell on him with a feral frenzy, knife and spiked club tearing the squirming man to ribbons. A Cadian guardswoman tried to help him but got her right arm lobbed off by a Viking berserker who had followed the Maori inside. The berserker then grabbed the screaming woman's head and dashed it against the wall. The helmet split open, spilling fragments of skull and eyeballs. Laughing, she tossed the corpse aside and bulled into another group of Kuronese guardsmen.

"Get the fuck out of here, go!" Tangmo drew his combat knife as the berserker women poured into the room, their weapons singing gleeful song of bloody murder. Tangmo was searching for the main characters when a Maori berserker tackled him through a door and into what appeared to be a kitchen, both of them rolling into a pile of pots and firewood. Grunting, Tangmo launched the roaring woman into a cupboard with a double kick to the gut and scrambled up to his feet in time to see two other Maoris and three Vikings charging him en mass. Tangmo ducked an axe that flew dangerous close to his head, only to take a knife stab to the knee and spinning chainsword teeth to the chest. Thank God he was wearing carapace armor underneath his awesome commissar coat, or sparks won't be the only thing flying. Getting inside the guard of a charging Maori woman, Tangmo dropped her with a flying knee to the chest, then he stoop low and swept his leg out in a wide arc, tripping a Viking into a cold hearth, before springing up at a chainsword wielding blonde. Grabbing her arms, Tangmo judo flipped the Viking on top of the Maori he had kneed earlier. This was bad, there wasn't enough room for him to maneuver effectively, and those crazy bitches weren't even fazed by his attacks. The Maoris were pissed he wasn't going down easy while the Vikings were energized by the challenge. Their demented smiles were both hot and horrifying. So Tangmo did the most logical thing available to him. He bulled through the exit and into a wide street, where he tripped over a dead Jigurean officer, not someone he knew fortunately. He was carrying a sword, a geom, and an idea, an awesome idea, came to him. Tangmo reached down and took the geom then drew his own broadsword, giving both a good swing and got into a dual wielding krabi-krabong stance.

"Bring it," Tangmo grinned and parried a simultaneous flurry of attacks from a Viking and a Maori as their companions spread out to encircle him. Their assaults were eerily synchronized, every slash and stab, although differing in style, worked in fluid tandem with each other. The Maori's attacks were quick and precise while the Viking overwhelmed with power and relentlessness, one finding the weakness and the other going in for the kill. However, they've never went up against a krabi-krabong master. In a blur, Tangmo lashed out with a thrust and a cut. The Viking went to her knees, gasped two shallow breaths before falling dead with a pierced heart, while the Maori folded limply, unbelieving of the gash carved deep across her throat. The remaining berserkers were closing in on him when two shapes darted into their midst, two of the naked women burst into a fountain of blood as Lingxin and Kenshin came to stand with him.

"Thanks for the save my dudes!" Tangmo twirled his two swords, flicking blood off the blades.

"I thought you could use some company," Kenshin's katana made short work of a Viking, the folded steel parting flesh with ease.

"And to make sure you don't die," Lingxin landed a series of punches and kicks on a redhead before decapitating the woman with her dao. Tangmo was about to revel in this minor victory when Lingxin dashed toward him, grabbed his arm and dragged him into a narrow alleyway across the street, Kenshin following closely at their heels.

"There," Lingxin nodded at the first door they came upon and the three slipped inside, Kenshin quietly shut then locked the door behind them. The interior was dark, only a few measly shafts of light provided any illumination. Placing a finger over her lips, Lingxin snuck toward a barred window, Tangmo and Kenshin right beside her.

"Where are they?!" Peering outside, he saw other berserkers, dozen of them, gathered around their dead comrades the three Asians just took out.

"I'll carved out their hearts and eat it!" A frizzled hair Maori declared.

"No! I shall be the one to tear out their lungs and placed it on their shoulders!" A Viking yelled at the Maori, the two women suddenly moments away from coming to blow.

"We'll find them! We'll find them!" Another joined in, the sentiment echoed with furious gusto.

"Commissar, come in, do you read?" Meko's voice blared in Tangmo's earbud suddenly, almost making him jump.

"Good to know you guys made it out," Tangmo whispered, "can't really say the same for us though."

"Us?" Meko asked.

"I'm with Lingxin and Kenshin," Tangmo cringed when he saw how animatedly violent the berserks were becoming. "We're not far from our original position. Where are you guys?"

"The town hall sir, at least, that's what I think it is," Meko said. "It's about four kilometers west of your position, every surviving unit is digging in for the worst. It appears that more Sororitas have entered the fray, the armored one that is, and they're making a hard push for us."

"Is everybody okay?" Tangmo pressed on.

"Yeah, we're all here, as safe as we can be for the moment," Meko reassured him.

"I'll see you guys soon," tapping his earbud, Tangmo hazard a glance outside and found the berserkers still arguing.

"What's the plan sir?" Kenshin asked.

"We need to rejoin our troops," Tangmo said. "The problem is we're behind enemy's line right now."

"We can fight our way through," Lingxin gave her vote of confidence.

"I don't doubt that, but given how badly outnumbered we are, I think the situation calls for a stealthier approach," Tangmo offered, Lingxin conceded with a curt nod.

"So when are we moving out?" Kenshin pressed.

"Right when those bitches fuck off," Tangmo took a peek, goddamn it why can't they just shut up and leave?! The argument was reaching a fevered pitch, Tangmo silently praying that they would kill each other and saved them the trouble, when a high pitched voice cleaved through the din.

"Quiet! Shut you mouths!" A tall Maori sporting a dreadlock shrieked, silencing her sisters as she sniffed the air like a wolf. "I can smell them, they're…there."

Fuck! They were all looking this way. The berserkers giggled as they stalked forward, weapons shaking with anticipations.

"Time for some fun, little prey!" The dreadlock Maori laughed aloud.

"We're going to take our time…oh yes, it's going to be slow!" A blonde Viking crooned manically.

"If anybody got a plan, I'm all ears," Tangmo twirled both his swords, the best bet right now was to charge the berserkers head on and kill them before more showed up.

"Use this," groaning, Lingxin reached for his belt and pulled a krak grenade free. Huh, completely forgot about that. Pulling the pin, Lingxin opened the door and lobbed the grenade at the approaching berserkers. The explosion threw Lingxin on her back and destroyed the wall they've been leaning upon. When the dust cleared, all that remained of the warrior women was a red stained crater.

"Good thinking colonel," Tangmo helped her up.

"Yeah, but I think everybody heard that," Kenshin adjusted his kabuto.

"Then we better start running," Lingxin dusted off her shanwenkai.

"Let's go then," Tangmo hauled ass down the road with Lingxin and Kenshin at his side.

Okay, so he seriously underestimated how badly this would go. And… he just shit himself, right after pissing himself. The world was a quaking, miasma of pain for Damien. His two hearts beat a failing, erratic rhythm, and he gasped short, tortured breathe despite having four lungs, every inhale nothing but fire and agony. The first ten electro shock was bad, but things got progressively worse when Syrathel started getting creative. Apparently, the woman can control the directions and charges of the electricity using her staff. She started shocking individual parts of his body, his head, his neck, his torso, his stomach, his groin, each bolt punctured by her demand for him to transfer the STC data. He laughed even when it felt like every organ in his body had failed.

"Maybe I should invite some of my Slaanesh sisters over and have them skinned you strips by bloody strips," despite her calm, regal tone, Damien can tell Syrathel's patience was nearing its end. "By the gods, I believe they would kill for a chance to sodomize an Ultramarine."

"Projecting much?" Damien's croak of a laugh ended when Syrathel shoved three fingers down his throat and electrocuted it. His head bounced sickeningly off the floor, wet, frothing gurgle articulated his pain. It felt like hours before the electrocution ended, his eyes bulging so large that he thought it had popped out of his skull.

"Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way," Syrathel flicked her hands and a bound Gallus was forced to his knees before the Chaos Sister. She grabbed his helmet and tore it off his head. "Perhaps your men will be more cooperative."

"Do your worst, Chaos witch!" Gallus snarled. "The Emperor is with me and I shall never yield!"

"I will be more than happy to put that statement to the test," bolts danced across her finger tips as she strolled up to him. Damien let out a pathetic moan and tried to raise his nonfunctioning arms, Syrathel had released him from the constricting pipes after the electrocution rendered his muscles near useless.

"Hmm?" Syrathel glanced at him with a quirk brow. "Did you say something?"

"N…N…!" Damien tried his best to enunciate.

"Louder Brother Sergeant, we can't here you," Syrathel knelt down beside his head.

"N-No…" Damien at last managed to get a coherent word out.

"A vague request Brother Sergeant, perhaps you can be a little more specific?" Syrathel was taking immense pleasure in toying with him.

"Don't hurt my men," Damien said. "They don't deserve to suffer for my mistake. Leave them alone."

"I sense a shift in your temperament Brother Sergeant, a most satisfactory development," Syrathel rose and let her hand hovered lazily over Gallus's face, blue slithering bolt glowing bright across her palm. "I'm listening."

"I'll retrieve the STC data for you and submit myself to your mercy," Damien got on his knees, restoring some semblance of dignity. "In return, you will spare my men."

"Brother Damien no!" Gallus shouted. "Do not throw your life away in vain!"

"Oh, hush you," with a snap of her finger, a thick electrical cord wrapped itself around Gallus's mouth, gagging him. "I wonder Brother Sergeant, is this chivalry or desperate stupidity?"

"They will continue to fight, even without me leading them," Damien forced a grin onto his face. "Besides, it's obvious you know jack shit about computer, sad really, in this day and age."

After the electrical shock, a staff to the face felt like a blessing. Sure, blood poured from his mouth, but it was better than having an electro seizure. Still on his knees, Damien was starting to rise when an invisible coil hurled him roughly toward the keyboard and screen.

"Get to it then," Syrathel came and stand beside him, he could feel the soft electrical charges teasing his cheek. Sighing, Damien concentrated and languidly typed in the code sequence.

"Ahhh! Get off me you crazy bitch!" Tangmo slammed his back against a wall and judo flipped a Viking berserker off his back. The naked woman was bouncing off the ground when Tangmo stomped down hard on her throat, the crunch was satisfying. Tightening his grip, Tangmo rammed his two swords through the back of another Viking who had Lingxin pinned against a wall, the blades sliding in just beneath the ribcages. The berserker's roar of indignation ended when Lingxin ran her dao across the woman's neck. Down the corridor Kenshin was in the process of decapitating and disemboweling two Maori that had ganged up on him. When the task was done, he strode up to join them, his right leg a little stiff.

"You're hurt," Lingxin wiped blood from her face.

"I'm fine," Kenshin flicked red droplets from his katana.

"You sure dude?" Tangmo nudged his head at the tempestuous battle raging a couple of blocks down the road. "We're heading straight into a massive shit storm, just so you know."

"It is not in my nature to back down from a fight sir," Kenshin managed a shallow smile.

"Stay close then," Tangmo took the lead down the alleyway, his many cuts and bruises flaring in protest, but he fought down the pain.

"Don't slow us down," Lingxin told Kenshin, absent her usual biting venom.

"I won't," Kenshin easily matched steps with her as the three came to a stop at an alley mouth. Peeking across the wall, Tangmo saw an expected, but discouraging sight. What remained of the Imperial Guards, now fortified inside a two storey town hall, was pouring every lasbolt and bullets on the tightening ring of Chaos Sisters. The armored sisters comprised of one flank of the assault, while the berserkers took the other, spreading the defenders thin and diluting their firepower.

"What do we do?" Lingxin asked.

"We need to draw the berserkers' attention away from the town hall, so that the defenders can concentrate on the armored Sisters," Tangmo twirled both his swords. "You guys ready to do something stupid?"

"There are only three of us," Kenshin spoke up.

"Yeah, and?" Tangmo smirked.

"It was only a statement lord commissar," Kenshin nodded. "It's been an honor sir."

"It was a pleasure to have fought by your side," Lingxin added.

"Thanks, but we're not dead yet," Tangmo readied himself and leaned slowly into the street. "Follow my lead. We're going to give them a little surprise."

Tangmo dashed toward the berserkers, swords unfurled at his sides like the wings of a raptor in flight. The berserkers quickly took noticed and were leveling their weapons at him when Tangmo leapt on to the nearest Viking's bended knee, using it to climb up to her shoulder. Taking advantage of their confusion, Tangmo pushed himself off the woman's collarbone and frog hopped his way deeper into the berserker's ranks, heads and shoulders providing the perfect stepping stone. When he judged that he'd reached the center mass of naked violent women, Tangmo dived into their midst, his two swords a tornado of steel that cleaved everything in his path. The air was red and wet as Tangmo made his superhero landing, around him were twitching corpses of Viking and Maori berserkers, arrayed like sacrifices at his feet. The berserkers were reeling from the attack when Lingxin and Kenshin joined him, creating a bloody crater of their own. Giving each other a nod, Tangmo, Lingxin and Kenshin attacked, the berserkers can do nothing but die before the awesome power of krabi-krabong, wushu and kenjutsu.

"Mamorubeki mono, shinjiru mono wa!" Tangmo epic song blared over the berserkers' roaring din, Lingxin, and especially Kenshin, spared a heartbeat of shocked glance at him. "Suukina sadame ni yurare!"

With frightening speed and precision, Tangmo, Lingxin and Kenshin carved a bloody path through the warrior women, moving swiftly so that the Vikings and Maoris couldn't pin them down. It was a heavy drain on their stamina, but it was better than stopping and getting swarmed. As the three plowed deeper into the encirclement, raking in kills after kills, Tangmo's voice became one with the singing blades.

"Usuku haiiro ni irodzuita, kibou ni suragi, kono byakuya ni kirisake to, CRY OUT!"

Their swords a blur of scarlet silver, Tangmo, Lingxin and Kenshin stabbed, slashed, cleaved and hacked at everything that moved, droplets of ruby hung above them like morning mist. When the bloody curtain falls, the Asians found themselves standing atop a hill of corpses like the heroes of old, the Chaos maidens converging on them like a hungry tide. Knowing that this would be where he makes his stand, Tangmo thrust his sword to the sky and sang:

"Raise my sword! Freedom became thousands of flames! Mezame yoi ma kono toki!"

With the berserkers pressing in on all side, Tangmo, Lingxin and Kenshin soon found themselves fighting back to back, swords, punches and kicks pushing back the Vikings and Maoris, adding more bodies to the hill until it became a mountain, defiant even in the face of annihilation.

"Raise my hope! Nageki wa tashikana kibou e to, kawaru darou!"

Tangmo was starting to wonder how long this could last, and whether the Imperial Guards were pressing the advantage, when a solid bolt struck his left abdomen. Although he was wearing a storm trooper carapace, hardened and upgraded by the Kolasi STC, it couldn't withstand a direct hit. Shrapnel and shattered metals lancing into his guts, the lower part of his breastplate a smoldering ruin, Tangmo careened down the mountain of corpses, flesh and bones proving to be very poor cushions. Tangmo had just stopped rolling, pain searing across his body, when the berserkers fell on him with joyous vengeance. Tangmo tried to raise his sword but a Viking leapt onto his arm and started biting it, her teeth tearing into the black fabric of his awesome commissar coat until it scraped against the armguard. A Maori then pounced on his legs, stopping him from rolling or kicking, and stabbed her jagged dagger down in a maddened fury. It scraped his armor a few times before finding the chink, Tangmo screamed when the dagger plunged into his leg just below the knee, the serrated blade grating against his femur. Up and down, up and down, the woman laughed as she sawed deeper into his flesh. Spurred by pain, Tangmo wrenched his arm free and reeled back for a chopping blow. A kick to the face planted him back on the ground. Dazed, Tangmo could do nothing as three more women pummeled his face with a flurry of fists and feet, while another he couldn't see stomped mercilessly on his wounded side, every hit sending blood spurting passed his lips. He was seconds away from losing consciousness when they suddenly relented and his body was wiggling free. Blinking through teary pain, Tangmo found Lingxin pushing the berserkers back with her bare hands, every kick and punch hitting like a hammer blow. At his ruined leg Kenshin's katana weaved a storm across the air, killing and deterring all that tried to approach.

"Run," Tangmo coughed and stood up on one leg, his swords becoming crutches.

"Not without you!" Lingxin leapt back from a chainaxe's killing arc, the Buxiunese was battered and her left arm bled profusely.

"Give me your grenades," Tangmo managed through shaky breath. "You two fight your way out while I cover the retreat."

"Not a fucking chance!" Kenshin shambled up to him, his limp more pronounced now.

"Stupid idiots," Tangmo laughed hoarsely and braced himself on the broadsword while pointing the geom at the horde of berserkers, Lingxin and Kenshin taking their place beside him. Tangmo was truly touched by their loyalty. Scanning the mass of evil naked women, Tangmo caught a glimpse of red carapace moving behind the crowd. Fighting back the darkening haze of pain, Tangmo saw a bolter slipping through the throng of berserkers, the barrel trained on Lingxin.

"No!" Using what remained of his strength, Tangmo tackled Lingxin aside the same moment the bolter's muzzle flashed and his breastplate exploded into a hundred pieces as he hit the ground. Was this normal? Tangmo thought he was supposed to feel pain, not this numbing chill spreading across his body. He tried to move, but nothing worked, all he can do was turned his head feebly left and right. The berserker closed in, Lingxin and Kenshin roared, and a powerful hail of orange lasbolt tore across the grey sky above. Wait, what's going? Whose lasbolt bolt was that? Are the Guards sallying forth? He didn't ponder long however as Lingxin fell down beside him, the Buxiunese colonel wrestling a Maori berserker to the ground, both women trading vicious stabs with knife and dagger. Not far away, a Viking had straddled Kenshin and was throttling him. Finally, a Khornate Sororitas came to stand above him and trained her bolter at his face.

Well shit.

Tangmo tried to move, to do anything, but his body appeared to have stopped working completely. But when he blinked the Sororitas was gone, and he found himself staring at the sky again. Dull noises echoed somewhere to his left, was that a sword clashing or a woman screaming? Okay, he was pretty sure his body wasn't supposed to spasm like that, and now he can't breathe, plus everything was going dark. Great. Just fucking great. Then someone blocked out the sky. It wasn't one of those bolter bitches, because the face was crying and he knew who it belonged to. Leilatha. Damn, at least he got to see something nice before punching out. Not a moment after that everything faded to black. The last thing he saw was Leilatha screaming his name.

"Are you stalling?" Syrathel demanded.

"What's the hurry, you need to be somewhere?" Damien shot back snidely as he typed in the last sequence of codes. Outside, he could hear the constant rumble of jet engines. The droning reverberation told him that it was a tight, bombing formation. Battering explosion followed not a second later, rocking the manufactorum.

"Don't test me," Syrathel warned.

"Calm your tits, I'm almost finish," Damien continued to type. "You've done quite well, all things considered. For someone with limited understanding on coding, you actually got pretty closed to the prize, but alas, no cigar."

"Shut your mouth," Damien could feel the air simmered with rising voltage.

"See, the problem was that you put the code into the wrong command protocol," Damien fingered started to slow, "rookie mistake."

"One more word and I'll…"

"How about you shut the fuck up?" Damien pressed enter and dove to the floor, around him pillars and ceiling shifted open to reveal rows upon rows of autocannons and heavy bolters, all of them trained on Syrathel. Damien wasn't lying when he said Syrathel got close to taking the STC's data, the woman however wasn't able to differentiate one command prompt from another, which was why he managed to access the security protocol right under her nose. The muzzles erupted in unison and fire consumed Syrathel. Damien moment of triumph ended when he saw Syrathel, encased inside a transparent energy shield, lashing out with blue lances of light, turning the turrets into smithereens. Soon, the powerful volley lessened until only a few guns remained, but the automated defenses managed to push Syrathel back toward a huge stain glass window. She was panting heavily, her shield moments away from yielding. When the last heavy bolter got turned into flaming scraps, Syrathel was without her energy barrier. Summoning every last reserve of energy he had, Damien tackled the surprised Syrathel, carried her off the ground and hurled her at the window. The glass exploded brilliantly as Syrathel flew across the air and dropped like a rock. Peering outside, the wind whipping fiercely at his face, Damien saw a Warp portal opening up beneath Syrathel and swallowed her.

"Good enough for now," Damien pushed himself off the wall and staggered back to where his squad was breaking free from the now inanimate pipes and wires and helped Gallus up, "you guys alright?"

"Worse for wear, but a lot better than you," Gallus handed Damien his awesome Space Marine helmet before putting his own back on. "You never intend to give the witch what she wants."

"Of course not man," Damien donned his awesome Space Marine helmet, the HUD taking a few seconds to restart. "I tricked the bitch and she fell for it."

"Even though I don't support your decision to sacrifice the objective on our behalf," Gallus began, "I am nevertheless grateful for the gesture, thank you sir."

"No problem bro," Damien nodded then headed back to the STC's console. "Come on, give papa some good news…yes! We got the data!"

"I thought we need to restart the process?" Manaus joined them, rolling his injured shoulder irritably.

"Nah man, I started the download as a background process, beneath everything that was happening on the surface," a hard disc size square popped out of the STC, smoking hot. Damien gingerly removed it, "so that we don't waste any time."

"Form up, we're heading back to the drop zone," Gallus waved the squad back into formation.

"I have a better idea," Damien tapped his awesome helmet. "Coreth, do you read me?"

"Go ahead Brother Sergeant," their new chauffer responded.

"We're at the top of the manufactorum," Damien continued, "inside the room with the broken window. I want you to make an emergency exit for us."

"Copy that," a couple of minutes later the very familiar hum of a Thunderhawk engine rumbled across the machine temple.

"Take cover!" Damien and the squad dashed behind a pillar as the Thunderhawk's heavy bolters and autocannons tore the wall apart. Ten seconds after the barrage ended, Damien and the Space Marine emerged from their cover and dashed for the gaping hole punched into the side of the manufactorum. The Thunderhawk had its back turned to them, ramp lowered and hovering as close as possible to the destroyed wall.

"Go, go, go!" Damien waved his men onboard before he himself leapt forward. Still dizzy from the torture, Damien slipped at the edge and would've fallen off if it wasn't for Galerius and Aurius who quickly pulled him back inside the hull. It wasn't until the ramp closed behind him and the adrenaline faded that the full damage done to his body became apparent. His hearts were beating way too fast, his shivering limbs were lethargic and he had difficulty trying to keep his eyes open, the heavy caress of weariness tugging him gently toward darkness. Damien shook himself awake and tapped his earbud.

"Coreth, what's the situation below?"

"The high command of the expeditionary force has been neutralized, Brother Sergeant, and all their anti-aircraft guns silent," Coreth said. "We've regained complete air superiority and have since bombarded the monastery where that damnable bell was situated. The ratmen and the heretic Sororitas are retreating back into the Warp."

"That's good," Damien smiled.

"Sir," Damien didn't like the heaviness in Coreth's tone. "The commissar… he's dead."

Why was she here? Leilatha had asked the same question again and again for the last several hours as she sat beside commissar Tangmo's unmoving form, her eyes bloodshot with weariness and grief. Leilatha took in every detail of the young man on the cot, his clean shaven face, the contour of his muscles, the slow, shallow rise of his chest, and the white blemishes of his healed injuries. After the emergency surgery, blessed Ryvin for his deft hands, the general and the Astartes had given him an injection called the 'cheat code'. The concoction miraculously healed his battered body but did not wake him. Leilatha winced at the memory. When the Cadian 89th and the Mordian broke through the Chaos Sororitas line, they had rushed with all haste to relieve the encircled Cadian, Krieg, Buxiunese, Kuronese and Jigurean forces under Tangmo's command. She found him lying on the ground, broken, bleeding, teetering on the very edge of life, with a Sororitas moving in for the coup de grace. She fell on the woman with an inhuman fury, her saber goring into the Battle Sister's neck again and again until it was severed messily. That was two days ago, the battle was won but she doubted anyone felt that way. The casualty was high, they've lost over four thousand men, and Leilatha knew that she should be tallying up the dead and injured and making the appropriate engagement report, but no matter how hard she tried, she always ended up here, beside Tangmo. She asked the same question again, even though she already knew the answer.

That she cared for this obnoxious and immature man. That she liked his unconventional personality. And would she dare admit that the fondness went beyond simple camaraderie?

"He hasn't woken yet?"

So lost in thought that she didn't hear Tyra entered the small tent that served as commissar Tangmo's recovery quarter. Of course the pilot was going to be here, her affinity toward Tangmo was less than subtle, but in that moment Leilatha was unable to conjure any ill feeling toward the woman. Instead, she quickly wiped her misty eyes and said:

"No, he hasn't."

Tyra came to stand beside her, and for the minutes that followed neither spoke a word, the silence they shared was deep and heavy.

"I was too late," Leilatha spoke up, cursing the tremor in her voice. "If I had pushed the men harder I could have…"

"You saved him," Tyra cut in.

"Does he look saved?" A sob broke into her words.

"He's not a corpse," Tyra pointed out.

"But he might never wake up," Leilatha went on dejectedly. "I've seen injury like this before, the damage to the body was so severe that the mind never returns…he'll spend the rest of his life as a soulless husk."

Tyra didn't respond immediately, but when she did it was with a poisonous sneer, "and this is the woman he chose over me? A sniveling little shit?"

Leilatha sprang off her stool, knocking it over, and rounded on the pilot with fist clenched. But before she can throw the punch, Tyra's word sank in and she froze mid-swing.

"What did you just say?" Leilatha asked.

"He chose you," there was clear resignation in Tyra's tone. "I always knew where his heart was, but I fought anyway. Heh, I never did know when to quit."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?!" Leilatha snapped harshly. "Now that he's at the Emperor's very doorstep you gloat?! To leave me with this knowledge of what I've lost?! Fuck you!"

"I'm not gloating you stupid bitch, I'm telling you the truth!" Tyra shot back but went on in a softer octave. "You deserve to know that after everything, he loved you."

And with that Leilatha crumbled. Like a dam yielding to the rushing river, tears at last flowed freely down her cheeks as she collapsed to the floor and wept, hoarse and loud. She felt Tyra's hands on her shoulders, the grip firm yet gentle as she was slowly guided back to the stool that have now been righted. She cried, back hunched and shuddering. Tyra's grip never left her, providing a firm anchor in this overwhelming sorrow.

"I am a commissar," Leilatha spoke when the worse of the sobbing subsided. "I have pledge my life to duty and the God Emperor, to be stalwart even in the face of death. And here I wept over a man! Why am I so weak?"

"Acting like a normal person doesn't make you weak," Tyra said. "It makes you…well, human."

"The Schola Progenium was supposed to hammer out such impurity," Leilatha sniffed.

"This isn't something to be ashamed of," there was a hint of humor in Tyra's voice.

"I don't like this pain," Leilatha continued. "I rather take a lasbolt to the gut."

"All of us feel this way one time or another," Tyra said.

"…What am I going to do?" Leilatha asked, desperate and lost.

"Tell him you love him when he wakes up," Tyra suggested.

"If he wakes up."

"Oh stop sulking!"

Leilatha had to agree with that, moping wasn't going to resurrect Tangmo, better to steel herself and faced what comes with dignity and courage, as a commissar should. Wiping away tears with the sleeve of her coat, Leilatha sat up straight and took a calming lungful. Worry for Tangmo still clung heavy over her, but at least it wasn't as crushing as before. She even allowed herself a halfhearted smile as she met Tyra's eyes, the pilot reciprocating in kind. Leilatha admitted that this was the first time she ever saw Tyra as anything beside a subordinate and a rival. In that moment, they were only women, absent ranks and station.

"Thank you Tyra," Leilatha tapped the hand on her shoulder.

"I don't like seeing people cry," Tyra shrugged.

"So, no hard feeling about me and commissar Tangmo?" Leilatha asked.

"Sorry mate, I always hold a grudge," Tyra smirked evilly. "I don't take losing well."

"I will fight to keep what is mine," Leilatha welcomed the challenge.

"I'm not going to take your man, but there will be retribution," Tyra snickered playfully.

"Then I shall await it with eagerness."

"I promise to go easy on you."

"Nice to see the two of you getting along for once."

Gasping, Leilatha spun toward the cot and found Tangmo watching them with a grin. Without realizing it, Leilatha sprung off her seat and wrapped her arms around Tangmo's chest, holding on so tight that the commissar squawked in pain.

"Pain! I'm still in pain!" Tangmo tapped her back urgently. With some reservation, Leilatha pulled away and quickly made herself presentable, wiping away any lingering trace of tears and adjusting her uniform, while Tyra helped Tangmo up to a sitting position. Leilatha was pleased to observe that the pilot usual fawning deposition was absent.

"Thanks Tyra," Tangmo glanced guiltily at the pilot. "I'm sorry I led you on like that, I should've given it to you straight."

"All is fair in love and war sir," Tyra came to stand beside her.

"Thank you Leilatha," Tangmo smiled warmly at her. "You saved my life out there."

"It was my duty, lord commissar," even Leilatha knew her commissariat tone was forced. "And I am glad to see that you have recovered from your injuries…"

"God Emperor's mercy, just tell him already!" Tyra gave her a friendly smack on the shoulder. Leilatha glared at her but conceded to the pilot's suggestion with a sagging sigh.

"Tangmo," she began, dropping all pretense of decorum. "Is it true that you harbor romantic feeling for me?"

"I do," Tangmo said.

"I feel the same way," Leilatha continued awkwardly, such intimate colloquialism was foreign to her. "I am glad that you do too."

"In the grim darkness of the forty second millennium, I am happy to have you by my side," Tangmo nodded, his voice deep and warm. "Thank you Leilatha."

"Thank you Tangmo," Leilatha smiled, a genuine heartfelt thing she'd thought forgotten after years of crushing indoctrination.

"That was painful to watch," Tyra giggled. "Like two toddlers courting each other."

"Be quiet," Leilatha elbowed Tyra friendlily in the side.

"Umm, ladies? I'm glad the three of us managed to work this out but," Tangmo threw the bed covering over his shoulders, "I'm a thin sheet of paper away from being totally naked, so I would really appreciate it if you can help me find my uniform."

"It's over there," Leilatha pointed at a metallic cupboard a few paces away from the bed.

"…Can you please get it for me?" Tangmo asked.

"I'm sure you can walk," Tyra said with a hint of mischief.

"You know I'm wearing nothing under this gown, right?" Tangmo said, a hint of bashful red rising up his neck.

"We know sir," Tyra giggled and Leilatha's cheeks flushed a furious pink.

"Whatever," Tangmo got up and Leilatha found herself gawking at his toned, firmed rumps. Tyra, being more crass, whistled appreciatively.

"Enjoying the view?" Tangmo asked as he pulled up his boxer.

"Very much sir," Tyra said.

"I wonder what my reception would be if I return the favor by leering at you two in the shower," Tangmo quirked his eyebrow suggestively.

"You will be ostracized and branded as a lecherous pervert," Leilatha said.

"How in the hell is that fair?" Tangmo countered cheekily.

"It's a perk for us women sir," Tyra smirked, "and we like to take full advantage of it."

"At least you're honest," Tangmo chuckled and went about dressing himself, granting Leilatha and Tyra a full view of his rippling muscles. Watching those bulges shift and grind was truly mesmerizing. She cursed the coat when Tangmo threw it on. Tangmo was putting on his cap when the tent flaps swooshed open and strode in general Henry and Brother Sergeant Damien.

"Oh good, you're awake," general Henry made his greeting.

"Been dozing on and off since morning," Tangmo sniffed the air and Leilatha noticed then the foul stench that has come upon them. "Something smells like shit."

"That would be me, sorry," Damien held up his hand guiltily. "I bumped into Syrathel at the manufactorum."

"She's one of those Chaos Sisters, isn't she?" Tangmo strapped his weapon belt around his waist.

"Probably their leader too," Damien said. "She fucking tased me for an hour until I shit myself. She also really wants to meet you."

"I know, I know, I'm popular with the ladies," Tangmo was quickly regaining his trademark pomposity. "So did we get the STC?"

"Oh yeah, right after I threw that bitch out the window," Damien continued. "We hit the motherfucking motherlode too. This thing is shocked full of weapons and technologies from the twentieth millennium. We're talking super advance shit here dude."

"Awesome," Tangmo nodded. "Now give me a run down on what happened while I was sleeping."

"Welp, the Chaos Sisters and skaven bailed into the Warp after sergeant Kimiko and her men managed to destroy the expeditionary force's anti-aircraft guns and put the entire high command under arrest," Henry said. "Then we mopped up all the skaven and orks stragglers, easy peasy."

"Our casualty?" Tangmo said grimly.

"The Buxiunese and Kuronese got the worst of it, but their number can be easily replenished," Henry said. "In total, we lost about four thousand men, the death spread out across every regiment. More than twenty thousand were wounded but those guys and gals will be back fighting within the month. Oh, and glorious leader Kim got away."

"I thought things would be worse," Tangmo admitted.

"Yeah…about that," Henry began awkwardly. "The Inquisition is here."

"…Fuck," Tangmo grimaced and Leilatha shared his trepidation. It was only a matter of time before the Immortal Spirit's activity attracted unwanted attention from the Inquisition. "What do we do?"

"Well, it doesn't look like we're on their radar," Damien said. "Apparently, a loyalist faction within the Buxiunese and Kuronese government joined forces and called the Inquisition here. An inquisitorial taskforce is purging the government right now."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Tangmo ventured.

"Two of them are on their way to meet us," Henry deadpanned then spun around at the commotion rising outside. "And they're here."

"Welp, there's only one thing to do then," Tangmo got up and stretched, wincing a little from the recently healed wounds. "Let's go tell them to fuck off."

"Hell yeah," Damien smirked and smacked his hand with Henry and Tangmo in a gesture called a high five, if she remembered correctly.

"Coming Leilatha?" Tangmo beckoned her with a small tilt of his head.

"Of course," Leilatha assumed her correct commissariat image, but allow a hint of affection and easiness into her posture, a little slip of decorum never hurt anyone. As Tyra had said, she was still human, and not without sin.

"So you and Tyra are friends now? That's good to know," Tangmo said as he went to stand with Henry and Damien.

"Are we?" Tyra was smirking as she skipped up to Leilatha's side.

"You can join us for a drink later," Leilatha adjusted her coat. "You remember our promise, Tangmo?"

"I change my mind," Tangmo said. "We're going out for ice cream instead, with parfaits, sundaes, milkshakes and kakigori, Kenshin probably knows how to make those, all nice and creamy and cold and icy…he and Lingxin are still alive, right?"

"They are," Leilatha nodded.

"Can I come too?" Henry glanced hopefully at him.

"That's up to Leilatha," Tangmo gave her a wink, causing a blush to creep up her cheeks, made worse by Tyra friendly nudging of her ribs.

"But first we have a bunch of inquisitors to deal with," Damien squared his shoulders. "You guys ready?"

"Let's do this," at Tangmo's words, the five of them strode outside to find the Immortal Spirit's high command forming a human wall between the inquisitors and the tent. Banishing the last tinge of red from her face, Leilatha lifted her chin high and adopted the correct commissariat stance, putting on an intimidating display for the nosey inquisitors. Argument boomed from the front, colonel Krillen's angry voice being the most prominent.

"Well, well, well what do we…" Sergeant Damien began but stopped, a look of absolute disbelief plastered upon his face.

"Damien? Is that you love?" An unfamiliar voice called out, the accent similar to major Emily of the Praetorian Guard.

"Oh my God!" Damien bellowed as a woman, clad in a dark brown inquisitorial coat, burst through the ring of people. She had a long wavy auburn hair that gleamed in the mid-morning sun. The young woman had a tall, firm athletic build and was, Leilatha admitted with no small amount of jealousy, strikingly beautiful. She smiled brightly and leapt with arms unfurled at Henry and Tangmo, much to the shock of all. The general and the commissar caught her in a laughing embrace, the three spinning like dancers on a ballroom floor before Damien scooped them up in a mighty squeeze.

"I knew it had to be you three!" The inquisitor beamed. "It's so good to see you guys again!"

"They made you an inquisitor?!" Henry said. "Damn, someone fucked up the paperwork!"

"It's all about the power, mate!" The woman turned to Tangmo and singularly hugged him, Leilatha felt her muscles twitching at the display. "Good to see you on your feet love, everyone said you died."

"And you actually believed that crap?" Tangmo said.

"Not for a second," the inquisitor let him go and gazed around at the gathered guardsmen. "So this is your crew?"

"The best in the galaxy!" Damien said.

"Please to make your acquaintance ladies and gentlemen," the woman took off her wide brimmed hat and bowed with a showman flourish not that different from Tangmo, Henry and Damien. "Inquisitor Laura of the Ordo Hereticus, at your service, now attached to the Immortal Spirit battlegroup."

"Guilliman sent you, didn't he?" Henry asked.

"Yep, because things are about to get super complicated, what with all the Chaos Sororitas and everything. But I'm not here alone," Laura waved at someone, "your turn to make the introduction love."

At Laura beckoning, another inquisitor strode forward, beautiful in all the correct classical way, this one sporting a shiny blonde hair.

"Good morning," her words were disarmingly melodic and sweet, "inquisitor Amberley Vail of the Ordo Xenos, please to make your acquaintance."