The Multiverse Project: Warhammer 40,000

"You got everything Ladaee?" Henry checked his laspistol.

"Yes sir, ready to go," the engineer adjusted the straps of her backpack, metallic jangle accompanied her movement.

"What about you Ruven?" Henry glanced at the tank commander.

"As I'll ever be sir," Ruven shifted his grip on the stubber gun that looked like your average Remington shotgun. "But are these weapons necessary?"

"We don't know what we'll find down there lieutenant," Henry adjusted his awesome general cap. "The scientists here have more than likely been screwing around with the STC, we could be walking straight into a nest of techno horror for all we know."

Ruven was muttering prayers to the God Emperor and the Machine Spirit when Konas strode up to Henry, an MG42 heavy stubber slung across his shoulder like Vasquez from the second Aliens movie.

"We're all set sir," he said.

"Okay then," Henry gave his posse a nod. "Move out."

Without cheers or shouts like the guardsmen, Henry led the twenty men team down the spiraling black staircase and into the research complex proper, situated six hundred feet under Kidemonas.

"Ladaee, Ruven, front and center my dudes," Henry called his two sidekicks, both of whom quickly took their place beside him. The mirror shine stairway was wide enough for six men to walk abreast without fear of overcrowding.

"Getting lonely sir?" Ruven said good naturedly.

"Not really," Henry cracked a grin then waved at the circular wall around them. "But the mural's kinda freaking me out a bit."

Ruven nodded in agreement. The Greeco-Roman frieze was one great continuous piece without a definable beginning or end. Although intricate and masterful in its presentation, every curve, angle and form carved to unsettling perfection, it still bears the trademark grimdark aesthetic of Warhammer 40k. You got your hoplites looking dudes with gun, frolicking toga wearing people, haughty looking scholars frozen in perpetual arguments, the usual Aegean stuff mixed with smoking factorium billowing noxious black cloud, flying servo skulls with strips of litany trailing after them, cyborg babies with angel wings and a bunch of Space Marines in heroic poses. Huh, these guys look kinda like the Minotaur Chapter.

"I think they're beautiful," Ladaee mused.

"Oh, no question there," Henry said. "I'm just a little bit unnerved by the people, the buildings, the trees, hell, everything really. I mean, if I didn't know better, I would've thought the sculptors took a living person, turned those poor sods into stone and glued them to the wall."

Ladaee's gaze became more wary the longer she stared at the mural, "I see your point."

"But you're right though, the immaculate craftsmanship really is a thing of beauty."

"Can you really do that sir?" Ruven butted in. "I mean, freeze people then plaster them to the wall."

"The Scholar Progenium possess many dangerous knowledge collected from across the galaxy lieutenant," and when Henry said 'dangerous knowledge', he meant Aaron Dembski-Bowden's Night Lords omnibus. "One of the records I came across spoke of a hellish procedure the Night Lords traitor Astartes performs on civilians. They fused the prisoners to the floor of their palace, then pumped those sorry sons of bitches full of chemical so that they're kept alive and in pain for the Night Lords to gander at leisure."

"God Emperor…" Ruven's breathing grew heavy.

"These guys though," Henry tapped a stony façade of a smiling child, "are just rocks and concrete, nothing to worry about, nothing at all."

"Well sir, I don't think we need to worry about scary sculpting any longer," Bektra spoke up. "The wall is ending."

The circular chute opened up into a vast subterranean vaulted chamber, tall and wide enough to fit a small town inside while still having enough room to spare. Bracing himself against the waist high rail, the only thing between him and a hundred feet drop, Henry waited for the vertigo to pass before continuing downward, taking the opportunity to check out the architecture of the research complex. Like elsewhere on Kolasi, the Greeco style dominated, the gleaming white marble pillars supporting the ceiling looked identical to that of the Parthenon, while the walls itself were composed of more murals, these one gargantuan in size.

"This place is…"

"Be quiet!" Henry shushed Ladaee then pointed down. "There are people down there. Be ready but don't fire until I say so."

Finger coiling around the trigger, Henry bounded down the stairs three flights at a time, the troupe close on his heels and making quite a raucous, the wide and open interior amplifying the noise to a bone jarring degree. After a couple of minutes, Henry landed on the flat granite floor and was met with eerie silence. The tank crew forming up behind him, the metallic clicking of primed weapons a great reassurance to his ears, Henry slowly crept toward a row of research benches where a significant number of people were huddled over. Closer now, Henry saw that they were either very young or decrepit and covered in cybernetic augmentation, iron hands wrapped in wires and googly robot eyes hissing and whirling as they continued with their works, unheeding of the newcomers.

Two possibilities exist in that moment. One, these are just really hardworking scientists who, due to their extreme dedication, failed to notice that everything went to hell around them. Or, these were Chaos cultists who had played a major role in the fall of Kidemonas. Something told Henry that it was definitely the latter.

"Hold up," Henry raised his fist and put the laspistol back into its holster. "I'm gonna go talk to these people. Be ready to smoke them if they try anything."

"Forgive me sir, but I don't think that's very smart," Ruven took position behind a desk and trained his shotgun at the oblivious occupants.

"Thanks for the concern lieutenant, but I'll be fine," Henry smiled when pounding rumbles resonated across the hall, the concussive drumming reverberating from above like vicious peal of thunder. The battle has begun then, God speed Tangmo.

Hands hovering above his holstered laspistol, Henry approached the scientists, all of them wearing a uniform of long flowing toga, like the ones Aristotle and his buddies wore, the Hellenic attire might have been pristine once but unwashed grimes and stains have blackened it to little better than workmen apron.

"Umm, excuse me, hello there," Henry channeled his inner Barack Obama and flashed a pearly white smile. But like before, they paid him no mind.

"Excuse me!" Henry repeated himself louder, dropping the polite façade for a militaristic one. "I'm talking to you!"

That caught their attention. A decrepit geezer that looked about a few centuries old snapped his head upward, his fellows shifting their attention, in perfect creepy synchronization, to stare at Henry.

"Huh? What the?! Who the hell are you?!" The old man demanded angrily, his robotic parts making an agitated tune. "How dare you disturb me?! What's going on?!"

"Well, where do I begin," Henry wrapped his hand around the laspistol's grip. "Long story short, Kidemonas have fallen and pretty much everybody got turned into murderous lunatic, except you people apparently."

"Why has the Great Phoenix of Truth sent you? We call for no custodian," the old cyborg pressed on hotly.

"The Great Phoenix of Truth?" Henry drew his laspistol. It doesn't take a genius to realize that the man was talking about Tzeentch.

"General! There are bodies stashed all over the place!" Rookie Cil cried out. "Under the bench, inside the bench, beside the bench, by the Throne, they're everywhere!"

"Throne?" The old man's one human eye widened in shock, "you're a servant of the Carrion God!"

"Took you long enough," Henry grinned, laspistol trained on the old man as he hefted up a big wrench, the tool shaking in his bony grasp.

"I thought we killed every last one of you," he hissed. "No matter, the Great Phoenix has deemed me worthy enough to spill blood in his name. Make peace, slave of the Anathema, for my lord will feast on your soul tonight. Die!"

Now, the correct thing to do in this most straight forward situation was to simply blast the raving mad geezer straight to hell. But as the old man raised his wrench high and charged with a comically shrill roar, Henry waved for his entourage to stand down, holstered his laspistol and cracked his knuckles menacingly. When the flimsy swing finally came Henry easily sidestepped the blow, reeled back his clenched fist, and punched the old man squarely in his metal plated cheeks. With a painful howl, the geriatric Chaos scientist flew a good ten feet through the air before landing in a mess of twitching limbs.

"Holy shit sir, I think you killed him!" Ruven exclaimed excitedly.

"ONE PUNCH!" Henry raised his fist triumphantly in the air and thanked the gods that Tangmo wasn't here to make a disparaging remark on his affinity toward Japanese animation.

"You monster!" One of the younger scientist squawked. "You hurt my pappous! I'm gonna kill you!"

The boy let out a very effeminate battle cry and dove for Henry with the same unsophisticated sloppiness as his, what was it, pappous? His Greek was a little rusty, but Henry thinks that means grandpa. And like his beloved granddaddy, Henry waylaid the shrieking little boy with a back handed bitch slap to the head. He twirled like a drunken ballerina before flopping to the ground. Hammers, wrenches, screwdrivers and pieces of junks began flying at the immobile Henry, the accuracy and trajectory pitiful. The lame ass barrage wasn't even done when the rattling of MG42 erupted behind him, looks like Konas had enough of the delay. Bodies spasm and collapsed in mist of red giblets, the heavy fire power drove the scientist back across the hall and into a wide arching door on the right, about three hundred yards from where they stood.

"Should we go after them?" Konas asked.

"We'll see," Henry reached down and pulled the dazed youth up by the collar of his toga. Upon seeing Henry, the Kolasian gave a weak struggle and hit the American in the chest with a pathetically girlish punch.

"Dude, seriously? Come on, cut it out," Henry easily grabbed the flailing fist and held it firmly. The boy whined in protest but accomplished little else.

"Let go of me you devil!" He demanded shrilly, his voice hasn't reached puberty yet. "Defilers! Demons! The purity of my heart will never be corrupted by likes of you!"

"Damn, I think I hit you a little too hard," Henry mocking laugh made the boy beet red with anger. "Look kid, I really don't have time for this, so why don't you tell me where the STC is?"

"Never!" His proud resistance ruptured into a pitiful squawk when Henry twisted his wrist.

"Listen here you little nerd," Henry growled, "I'm seriously not in the mood for a good cop routine, so I'm gonna ask you again, where is the Standard Template Construct?"

"I'm not telling you anything! Aargh!"

"General, the old one is waking up," Volsom interrupted him, pointing his lasgun at the stirring old man.

"Get him up," Henry threw the boy at Ruven, the lieutenant wrapping him up in a bearhug while Volsom and Bektra hefted the old man off the ground.

"Yo, wake up!" Henry slapped the old man none too gently, snapping him back to consciousness.

"Huh? What's happening?" The cyborg scientist's head darted left and right before finding a singular, hateful focus on Henry. "You…"

"Me…" Henry lowered his voice threateningly. "Now we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. The choice is yours."

"I spit on you!" Despite the declaration, the old man didn't in fact spit at Henry.

"Hard way it is then," Henry grabbed his neck and reeled back his arm. "When I'm done, there's not gonna be any fleshy part left on you. Unless of course, you tell me what I want to know."

"My life is forfeit for the Great Phoenix. There's nothing you can do to make me talk," the old man declared, his remaining crooked teeth bared in a snarl.

"You would die for your secret?"

"Absent hesitation."

"You know what? I believe you," Henry let go of the old man and friendlily dusted down his ruffled toga. "You're a man of conviction, I understand that, you'll take everything to the grave."

"Smart boy," the old man sneered.

"But I wonder," Henry slowly glanced at the young boy fidgeting within Ruven grip, "if others share the same stalwart ideal."

Glint of shock flashed across the old man's eye as Henry came to stand before the boy, who cowered before the American, his previous defiance dimming like a dying candle.

"Feeling a bit chatty now?" Henry asked nicely.

"N-No!" The boy blurted, scared out of his wit. "I'm not talking!"

The punch was fast and hard, goring so deep that Henry could feel the boy's sternum brushing against his knuckles. The boy sagged with a pitiful choke, and would have fallen face first to the ground if Ruven hadn't held up his limp body.

"Well? You gonna start talking now?!" Henry yanked the boy's head up by his curly brunette hair, spittle hung in long droplet from his chin, face wretched with pain. Yet he remained tightlipped. Henry punched him three more times, two in the ribs and one just below the diaphragm. High pitched whine answered his fists, the pitiful weeping sounded so much like a girl that it made Henry's heart flinched, wondering if he had gone overboard. Maybe he did, but morality takes a back seat now that time was running out for him and Tangmo, if the nearing explosions were anything to go by. He felt disgusted doing this, like a bully tormenting a scrawny little kid, someone so small and frail that can never hope to fight back. But there will be time to mope about the inhumanity of it all later, right now he had a job to do.

"Spread his legs," Ruven gave Henry a confused look but complied nonetheless, the boy didn't know what was happening until the general's boot connected hard with his groin.

And that was when Henry realized he fucked up.

See, Henry had low blow so many people in the past that he knew what to feel and expect. But when he kicked the boy, no testicles or penis obstructed his boot's trajectory, nothing but emptiness greeted him as the iron rimmed tip rammed into the pelvis. And with that knowledge, Henry concluded that he hasn't been beating up a pubescent boy, but a pubescent girl.

She gave a horrid gasp and crumbled to the floor with a retching choke, Ruven having loosened his grip, her twitching body curled into a fetal ball, wet sobs parting her lips.

Shit, shit, shit! Okay, gotta keep cool, can't freak out now, those Chaos bastards ain't gonna say anything if he start losing his shit. He needed to be cold and cruel, uncaring of this crying little girl at his feet.

"Elpida! You monster!" The old man spewed his hatred, writhing between Volsom and Bektra like a caught marlin. "The Great Phoenix take you! May you burn within the deepest pit of hell!"

"This could've all been avoided if you'd cooperated, padre," Henry fought to keep his voice steady, but guilt and revulsion made its presence known with the very minute trembling in his enunciation. "So are you going to talk now?"

The old man shot a panic look at his niece, worry and duty warring to a stalemate on his wizened face. Just when Henry thought the old man was about to give in for the sake of the girl, a steely resolute came over his visage as he glared at the general and said:

"Our lives are forfeit, do your worst scion of the carrion god."

Why can't things just be easy for once? Shaking his head, Henry made his expression as flat as possible and turned to Ruven, the tank commander looking rather aloof of his deed, probably oblivious to the fact that Elpida was a girl.

"Get her on her knees," Ruven was taken aback by the change in pronoun, his movement more cautious and guarded as he grabbed the girl's arm, she let out a frightful squeak and tried curling deeper into herself to no avails.

"No…please, no more…" she begged when Henry knelt down and smoothly took her hand into his own.

"You better tell me something girly," Henry coiled his fingers around Elpida's thump. "Or I'm gonna start breaking your fingers one at a time, starting with this one."

Elpida went pale and started crying when Henry, very slowly, bend her thump down. He gave the gathered tank crew a quick glance and found them quite ambivalent of his action. The only look of admonition came from Ladaee; her gaze conveying nothing but disgust and disappointment. Henry tore his eyes away, not having the guts to face her, and instead focused on the thump he was about to mangle.

"You will burn for this!" The old man frothed. "You will burn!"

"It's okay pappous," Elpida braved a smile for her grandad. "I'll never tell them anything. They can break my body but I will not succumb to their torture. I will never falter, as the God Emperor as my witness, I will remain faithful to the very end."

There was moment of stunned silence as Henry slowly processed what he'd just heard.

"Did you just say God Emperor?" Henry spoke very carefully, easing the pressure off Elpida's thump.

"Yes," a glimmer of defiance stirred in her teary eyes. "In His name, I defy and spit at you."

"She just said the God Emperor, right?" Henry turned to the tank crew, incomprehension plastered on their gaping faces. "I mean, I'm not imagining this?"

"No sir, she definitely said God Emperor," Ruven nodded his head briskly in conformation.

"Okay, I'm morbidly confused right now bro," Henry let go of Elpida's hand and stared into her emerald green eyes. "Now, when you say God Emperor, you're talking about the Master of Mankind right? As in, the big ass dude in the giant golden armor with the long black hair and a shiny halo around his head?"

"…Yes," Elpida continued unsurely, not understanding the sudden shift in interrogation, "he who sit upon the Golden Throne and guide us across the stars."

"You worship the Anathema?!" The old man's outrage was now directed at the shaking Elpida, "you foul, worthless apostate!"

Sadness and betrayal etched savage lines across Elpida wet, sobbing face.

"B-But, you said we were fighting for the Great Phoenix," Elpida pressed on desperately, trying to make sense of her grandfather's anger. "You said we would liberate this planet from the sinners that plagued its sacred earth."

"You stupid girl!" The old man barked. "If I've known you were this imbecilic, I would've had you killed along with your mongrel parents!"

"Hey kid, look here for a moment," Henry took off his awesome general cap and pointed at the symbol above the visor and embroidered straps. "Is this the emblem of your Great Phoenix?"

"Yes," Elpida voice was hoarse with tears. "The mighty two headed phoenix."

"Well, it's actually a twin headed eagle, not a phoenix, but I can see the similarity," Henry put his awesome general cap back on and made a sign of the aquila over his heart, the girl mimicking him with unrestrained shock. "And it seems that we're on the same side."

Elpida's mouth moved absent sound as the revelation sunk in. Then she glared at the squirming old man, anger simmering in her emerald eyes.

"If these soldiers fight for the God Emperor," she began. "Then who is it that you fight for?"

"The real true Phoenix!" The old man was hysterical. "The Changer of Ways, the Architect of Fate, the Lord of Knowledge!"

"That's Tzeentch, if you're wondering," Henry gave Elpida a sympathetic look. "He's one of the four Chaos gods, mankind greatest enemy and all that jazz."

"Mama, papa…" Elpida words were soft but her stare gleamed like sharpened katana. "You said they died because they refused to accept the Great Phoenix, you said they died as sinners. But you and yours were never faithful to the God Emperor."

"Your mother and father were apostates," the old man sneered. "I carved out their hearts and gave it to the Changer of Ways."

"You killed them!" Elpida shrieked, and now Ruven had to hold her back. "You murderer! Why?! They were good people! They haven't the thought or strength to harm anyone! Why?!"

"Because he's a fucking Chaos worshipper, that's why," Henry cut in and met Elpida's eyes. "Look kid, I'm going to be straight with you. This world is about to fall to Chaos, and me and my friends are doing everything we can to hold them off. But we're losing fast. My mission here is to find the STC before the Chaos traitor does, because if they do then we're beyond fucked. So I'm begging you, if you know where the STC is, please tell me."

Elpida was far from trusting but her grandfather's betrayal seemed to have struck a more painful chord. Breathe heavy with resignation, and more than obvious pain, Elpida nodded slowly and said:

"The artifact you're looking for is nearby. An archaic techno cube that is rumored to hold great power, we've been doing everything we can to decipher the coded locks but so far we've been unsuccessful."

"Can you lead me to it?" Henry put on the kindest face he can.

Far from welcoming of her predicament, Elpida gave a despondent, "yes."

"Thank you," Henry drew his laspistol and got to his feet. "Now close your eyes while I deal with your grandfather."

Shuddering, Elpida turned away with a sob and covered her eyes with trembling hands. Ladaee was beside her in an instant, drawing Elpida into a motherly hug. The grandfather was about to begin another tirade of admonition when Henry put a scorching hole between his eyes, quick and clean.

"Get rid of the body please," Henry holstered his laspistol as Volsom and Bektra hurled the corpse away.

"Orders sir?" Ruven asked.

"You're not pulling my legs, right girly?" Henry gave Elpida a questioning look. "Because I'm seriously gonna break yours if you lie to me."

"I'm not…" Elpida tried to make herself small while Ladaee shot Henry a rebuking glare. "Please, I'm telling the truth, I know where the cube is."

"Good, because you're taking me there," Henry said. "Don't worry, Ladaee's coming with me."

"And the rest of us sir?" Ruven pressed on.

"Stay here and secure the perimeter," Henry continued. "Scour the area, somethings tells me there's more to this place than STC."

"It's a pretty big place sir," Konas made his observation.

"Do what you can," another tremor shook the subterranean hall. "Goddamn it, we're wasting time. Elpida, Ladaee, with me."

"Wait!" The trio was nearing one of the towering doorways when Elpida spun around to face the tank crew. "Pappous have been working on something behind that door across the hall, take the keycard, he kept it in his belt."

"Thanks!" Cil chirped brightly and went to ransack the old's man corpse when Elpida returned her gaze forward, frowning when she reached the big entrance.

"What is it dear?" Ladaee asked the Kolasian girl.

"The door won't open without pappous's fingerprints," Elpida pointed at the flat biometric scanner situated beside the door.

"Hang on, I'll take care of that," Henry pulled the chainsword from his belt and approached the dead grandpa; Cil was brandishing the old man's keycard proudly when the serrated saw roared to life.

"Stand back dude, this could get a little messy," Henry stabbed the chainsword down and severed, quite messily, the old man's hand just below the wrist. Sliding the chainsword back into his belt and picking up the dismembered limb, Henry walked back to the scanner and pressed the palm to the flat glassy surface. The panel glow luminescent green, followed by the rasp and clang of releasing metallic lock as the two towering partitions slowly slid open.

"Welp, that was easy," Henry stuffed the gnarl hand into his awesome general coat. "Come on…Elpida was it? You take the lead with Ladaee, I'll bring up the rear."

Nodding, the two women jogged down the wide vaulted corridor with Henry close at their heels. They haven't made it two minutes inside when Elpida, her breathing wheezy and labored, slowed her steps and slumped against the wall.

"Are you alright?" Ladaee gently grabbed the smaller girl's arm.

"My stomach…" Elpida hunched lowly, her grimacing face beaded in sweat. "I can't breathe."

Ladaee slowly ran her hand over Elpida's midsection, the girl gasping in pain with every miniscule touch.

"Her ribs are broken," Ladaee shot Henry an accusing look. "There could also be some internal bleeding, but I can't be sure."

"Okay I admit, that was totally my fault," Henry held his hands up in surrender. "Can she walk though?"

"I…can try," Elpida mustered her strength and tried to continue onward, every step agonizingly slow.

"Alright, cut that out, I feel guilty enough already, goddamn," coming to stand in front of Elpida, back turned to her, Henry got down on one knee and pointed at his back. "Get on."

When nothing happened, Henry craned his head over his shoulder to see a stupefy Elpida staring at him, while Ladaee appeared on the verge of laughter.

"Get on my back kid, I don't have time to wait for you to catch your breath," Henry rolled his eyes as Elpida gingerly approached the kneeling general and wrapped her slender arms around his muscular neck.

"Hang tight," Henry rose to his feet, the swift movement causing Elpida to squeal, her grip tightening.

"Better?" Henry continued onward, the Kolasian scrawny frame proving to be of little hindrance.

"…Yes," Elpida gave her timid answer. "Thank you."

"Consider it the first of my many apologies for beating the living shit out of you," Henry said. "Now point the way kid."

"It's at the very end of the hall," Elpida pointed down the corridor; even from where he stood Henry could see the large intricate door looming beyond. "Just keep going straight."

"Okay," Henry picked up the pace and hurried down the hallway, Elpida bouncing like an empty backpack on his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eyes, Henry saw Ladaee flashing him a half endearing half mocking smile, which he reciprocated with an amused one of his own. Soon, they reached a heavy set door of gleaming silver; the startlingly vivid etching glowed brightly in the harsh fluorescent light. Like before, the artistry was of the Mediterranean persuasion, but the depicted scene was of the prostrating sort, with people in countless cowering multitudes raising their hands to a shining cube floating in the sky. Yep, they were in the right place.

Elpida sliding off his back, Henry took out granddad's severed hand and pressed it to another biometric pad. After a quick scan, the giant doors parted to the shrill of scrapping metal. After what seemed like hours, the two partitions were finally opened in it's entirely.

"Welp, can't really say that I wasn't expecting this," Henry threw the severed hand away and strode into a techno gothic nightmare of crisscrossing wires and cables, a mad web of human size electrical cord sprouting from a gray black cube the size of a freaking house situated in the middle of a tall, ceiling-less room.

"Why is the place so freaking dim?" Henry said. "I mean, everything was so bright outside, why is it so dark in here?"

"From what I heard from pappous, the cube consumed great amount of energy," Elpida scooted closer to him, the ever watchful Ladaee at her side. "The lack of light also keeps the cube from building up heat."

"An aircon would've sufficed, you know, like at MIT or NASA."

"The cube has been here for so long, yet none of the Mechanicus manage to understand its function. Years have we spent praying to the Machine Spirit, beseeching it to reveal the forgotten knowledge hidden within the iron sarcophagus."

"Trust me kid, begging a computer to work isn't gonna do a damn thing," Henry rolled his eyes and approached the cube.

"What are you doing?!" Elpida demanded suddenly. "None can approach the cube!"

"It's just a big ass supercomputer, chill out," Henry ignored her warning.

"I'm inclined to agree with her general," Ladaee gave her input. "The Machine Spirit is fickle, angering it could prove to be fatal."

"What's it gonna do, zap me?" Henry chuckled then stretched his hand out toward the black surface. He laid his palm on the cold iron, and screamed.

As Ladaee and Elpida's squeal joined his shrieking, Henry's agonizing howl cracked into a full blown laughter, the general doubling over in hilarity. The two, now quite peeved, women glared at him.

"See? It's only plastics, steels and bolts, nothing scary about it at all," Henry grinned. "Oh come on, don't give me that look."

"That wasn't funny, sir," Ladaee scowled. "To make light of the Machine Spirit is to invite calamity."

"But you gotta admit that was pretty funny."

"Maybe a little, but that still doesn't make it right."

"Okay, sorry mom," Henry childish pouting was received by Ladaee stern look. "Anyway, ready the explosives, I'm gonna take a look around."

"Explosives?" Elpida squawked as Ladaee unslung her heavy backpack and began assembling the bomb. "You can't!"

"I'm sorry child, but it has to be done," Ladaee's apologetic look did nothing to mollify Elpida. Ignoring the rising argument, Henry strode off and circled the cube's perimeter. The machine surface was seamless, maybe it was because of the light but Henry was unable to find any gaps or joints where each component was put together. But despite the flawless geometry, the cube was bland compared to the rest of the research center, no extravagant mural or frieze, only the hectic mass of cables hanging like a macabre Christmas decoration.

Pretty unassuming, all things considered; doesn't make it any safer to interact with though.

Henry was completing the circuit when he noticed that the argument between Ladaee and Elpida was reaching a dangerous pitch. Quickening his steps, Henry rounded a corner and had to stop himself from laughing. Clinging to Ladaee's arm and wailing like an angry kitten was Elpida, whining her baleful objection, the engineer's motherly patience quickly fraying.

"No!" Elpida shrieked. "This belongs to my people! This is their legacy! I won't allow you to destroy it!"

"The STC doesn't belong to Kolasi child, it belongs to the Imperium," Ladaee raised her voice. "And if we don't destroy it now, the forces of Chaos will use the knowledge within to further their war effort. So let go!"

"No!"

"Let go now or I'll – hey! Get back here!"

With one quick twist of her wrist, Elpida snatched the satchel of explosive from Ladaee and sprinted blindly toward Henry. She skidded to a stop with a yelp when she saw the New Yorker, frozen like a deer in headlight, paling with fear but still refusing to surrender the bombs.

"Elpida, give the satchel back to…" Henry began but stopped when his eye caught an anomaly on the STC. Turning away from the trembling girl, Henry strode up to the cube and peered closer until he noticed a uniform discoloring shaped like a square. A very small, barely noticeable line of indention bordered the shape.

"What the hell?" Henry tapped his knuckles around the light gray square. When nothing happened he pounded it squarely in the center, causing a panel to lower itself down toward him on creaky hydraulic hinges. When the compartment came to a rest at a ninety-degree angle, Henry was greeted with an old timey computer console.

"Please work, please work…" Henry randomly punched the keys, Ladaee and Elpida moving up to flank him. After a few seconds, the curved screen flickered to life, the flashing neon green letters and numbers reminding Henry of a cross between the Matrix and Fallout's Pipboy.

"Alright, now we're getting somewhere!" Henry exclaimed.

"Is that a rune panel?" Elpida asked. "I don't recall pappous mentioning anything about it."

"It's well concealed, but nothing escapes the general's notice it seems," Ladaee sounded impressed. "You know how to operate the rune panel sir?"

"I can give it a try," although not as proficient in IT as Damien and Lita, Henry still knows his way around basic BIOS and console command. So, after taking a deep breath, Henry fingers danced across the keyboard, lines of code flashed across the screen in rapid sequence.

"Woah…you're really good at this," Ladaee exclaimed, her awestruck face coming to hover not an inch from Henry's own, good thing she was too fixated on the screen to notice his blush.

Typing quickly, Henry was able to discern the function and history of the STC from the digitized rune. Unsurprisingly, the STC came from the Dark Age of Technology and contains about ten exabytes worth of raw data, although he have no idea what kind. Also, it appeared that the entire thing wasn't a computer per say but a self-functioning hard drive. His fingers quickening, Henry let out a loud whoop when he found the protocol for data transfer, with the process already half way started, the external USB drive primed and ready.

"Hold on to your butts ladies," Henry typed in the last sentence of command, earning a rather cliché prompt stating whether to continue, Y/N? Pressing Y, the STC hummed loudly until the sound of whirling fan, not that dissimilar to an overworked PC, shook the chamber like a miniature earthquake. Hands clasped over his ears, Henry waved Ladaee and Elpida out of the room, but not before giving the console a quick look over, the familiar loading bar with a percentage above it shone bright on the screen. Already ten percent? Damn that's fast.

Bolting for the exit, Henry found Ladaee and Elpida staggering drunkenly down the corridor, disoriented after take the full booming blast of the STC. Wobbling to find his own equilibrium, Henry noticed that the lights in the hall were flickering; the humungous PC was really using up a lot of power.

"You two okay?" Henry shook off the last of his dizziness.

"Yeah," Ladaee braced herself against the wall, Elpida leaning into her.

"What did you do?" Elpida swayed like a tree caught in a storm.

"That STC was a big ass hard drive," Henry explained. "All I did was transfer the data to a removable USB. It probably gonna take a while before the process is complete."

"When will we know when it's done?" Elpida pressed on.

"When the fans stop spinning," Henry answered when the sharp clicking of boots broke the monotonous humming of the STC. Glancing down the hallway, Henry saw Cil sprinting toward him, the lad panting profusely with every wide step he took.

"Sir!" Cil slid to a stop in front of Henry, hunching forward to heave deep lungful while at the same time trying to speak. "We…! Over…! It's…!"

"Cil dear, catch your breath!" Ladaee went over to the boy and stroke his back. "Now slow down, and tell us what happened."

"Thank you Ladaee," Cil gave her a love struck look, Henry didn't like it one bit.

"What's happening little dude?" Henry piped up.

"Ruven told me to fetch you immediately sir," Cil smirked was devilishly conspiratorial. "He found something that he believes you'll most definitely like."

"Oh? A surprise, is it?" Henry irked a suspicious brow. "Care to tell me what you found?"

"I think you'll want to see it for yourself sir," Cil was positively bouncing when he started down the corridor again. "Hurry sir!"

"Guess I'm needed elsewhere," Henry adjusted his awesome general coat and followed Cil. "You two stay here. When the data transfer's done, go in and see if anything changes."

The two nodded while Henry easily caught up with Cil, the boy smiling ear to ear.

"Judging by your mood, I'm guessing Ruven didn't run into some scary Chaos machine, right?" Henry observed as they sprinted across the main hall and toward the awning door on the other side.

"Indeed sir," Cil hurried through the entrance and into a brightly lit, cavernous hangar.

"Well, I doubt it'll be as good as what I've…just…found…" His steps slowing to a stop, Henry found himself staring, mouth agape and breathing forgotten, at the object standing before him.

"Holy shit…" Henry's brain eventually caught up to what his eyes were seeing, a mad, hysterical smile splitting his head in two. "OH MY GOD! OH MY FUCKING GOD! HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"

Squealing like an idiot, Henry bounded toward the gigantic tank of black and gold camouflage, the monstrous war machine gleamed like a prized trophy atop the most venerated and cherished pedestal. The tank crew and his twenty good men laughed at the grossly unprofessional display, but Henry didn't give a fuck. He was so hyped that he thought his brain was going to explode.

"It's…It's…!"

"A Baneblade sir!" Ruven finished Henry's sentence, laughing magnanimously from the hatch.

"Not just any Baneblade dude!" Henry scrambled up the super heavy tank with bruised grace, coming to stand before the smiling tank lieutenant. "A Stormhammer! A God honest Stormhammer Baneblade!"

"…You can't be serious!" Ruven gave the tank another look over, his face beaming like he'd just seen it for the first time.

"Dude, check this," Henry trotted over to the triple turrets, the barrels looked like they belonged on a World War II battleship, the death dealing guns were arrayed in a triangle, one above and two below, the arrangement actually reminded him of the Triforce.

"Three barrels dude," Henry lovingly stroked the hard, long, polished metal. "Normal Baneblade only has one, like commissar Yarrick's Fortress of Arrogance. And did you see the size of this thing? It looks about four times larger than your average Baneblade."

"I see," Ruven nodded in agreement, "looks like we hit the motherlode."

"Oh yeah," Henry caressed the barrel. "That we did."

"Do you…umm…want some privacy sir?" Ruven's brow rose suggestively.

Realizing that he had been sexually harassing the Stormhammer, Henry bolted back to the roaring laughter of the gathered tank crew, coughing hard to dispel the red flushing his cheeks.

"You saw nothing," Henry hissed, holding up a warning finger at his chortling audience.

"But sir," Konas grinned. "What about these other girls? Don't they deserve some of your love too?"

Giving the driver a quizzical look, Henry glanced around and felt another wave of orgasmic euphoria driving him to his knees. Arrayed in crisps ranks of three on both side of the Stormhammer, were six equally hulking war machines, each decked out in a unique assembly of armament.

"Your face says it all general," Ruven gave Henry a friendly smack on the shoulder. "But to tell you the truth, I've never seen tanks like these before, bigger than a Leman Russ but still not as big as a Baneblade."

"My dear lieutenant," Henry composed himself. "These beautiful ladies are Macharius heavy tanks, named after one of the Imperium most venerated general, Lord Solar Macharius. They are deployed in a very limited number, hence your lack of knowledge about them, but trust me when I say that these are some of the meanest girls in the galaxy."

The gather crew whistled and hollered their approval; mightily please with themselves for making this discovery.

"However," Henry sudden shift to solemnity cut the celebration short. "These war machines are nothing but pretty, oversize toys if they are not functional." He spun to face Bektra and Volsom. "What is the condition of the tanks?"

"You'll be please to know general, that the tanks are adequately fueled," Volsom began. "On the weaponry front, it appears that the traitors were in the process of arming them. The Macharius tanks and the Stormhammer are not fully armed but still possess enough firepower to do some serious damage."

"Will it be enough to break our current predicament though?" Henry pressed on.

"Hard to say," Bektra shrugged. "But at this point, I think brandishing these tanks would be better than doing nothing."

"I absolutely agree," Henry nodded. "Next we have the problem of transportation. I'm not leaving any guardsmen behind and I don't think they can all fit in the tanks."

"No problem in that department sir, we can use those Chimera over there," Bektra stabbed his thumb at eight troop transports situated in the far corner of the hangar. "And before you ask, yes, they're filled up."

"Goddamn, don't you just love easy convenience?" Henry's laugh was cut off by concussive tremors rippling from above, the violent drumming growing more powerful.

"Is it getting closer?" Cil stared at the ceiling, wispy sheen of dust drifting down.

"There must be…wait, don't tell, let me figure this one out myself," Henry slowly took in the hangar interior before fixing his attention on the far end of the chamber.

"Those…" Henry pointed at a pair of large hydraulic hinges dominating the wall a good seven hundred yard in front of him, the enormous cranks, wheels, pumps and exhaust chutes stood silent and naked before them, "looks like some kind of door mechanism."

"Yeah, I agree," Ruven stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Get everything ready my dudes," Henry carefully clambered down the tank. "I'm gonna go check on Ladaee and Elpida, the data transfer should be done by now."

"Data transfer? I thought you were destroying STC," Ruven asked.

"Found a better way," Henry ran back the way he came, waving at the beautiful tanks as he went. "And with all these ladies to help us, I think we can actually get our original job done too!"

Laughing, Henry jogged back into the main hall and found the place reverberating with deep murmurs, emanating from the spiral staircase. Henry was reaching for his laspistol when he saw that it was the injured guardsmen shambling down the steps, every man and woman that can walk had a wounded comrade draped across their shoulders.

"Ryvin!" Henry rushed up to the medic at the head of the ragged procession. "What's happening up there?"

"They've breached the outer defense sir," Ryvin panted. "Commissar Tangmo is rallying the men around the pyramid, but I don't think he'll last long. The traitor's armor column is shelling the research center as we speak."

"I might've found something that can help them," Henry tried to be positive, but rising apprehension was turning his reassuring smile into a brittle grimace. "Tend to the wounded Ryvin, and I'll see if I can make a miracle happen."

"Good luck sir," Ryvin gave him a polite nod before heading off to direct the flow of injured guardsmen. Henry was about to cross the vast chamber when he saw Ladaee and Elpida running up to him, the engineer's backpack bulging with extra weight while the little Kolasian girl was red face with exhaustion, barely keeping up.

"Give me some good news please," Henry said when they reached him.

"The data transfer was completed without a hitched sir," Ladaee smiled and handed Henry a satchel. Inside was a warm black square the size of a DJ turntable, a very noticeable and scalding hot entry socket sticking out from one side.

"Nicely done Ladaee," Henry smiled, threw the satchel over his shoulder then got down on one knee, beckoning the breathless Elpida over. "Come on kid, time is of the essence."

Not needing any further prompting, Elpida draped herself over Henry's back as the general sprang up on his feet and hurried back to the hangar. Ladaee gasped when she saw the Stormhammer, Elpida on the other hand was too tired to notice anything.

"We're ready sir," Ruven was perched above the hatch when Henry, Ladaee and the dozing Elpida joined him.

"Have you checked for any Chaos contamination?" Ladaee asked briskly.

"There's none," Ruven shook his head.

"What about the others?" Ladaee swept her hand over the Macharius tanks.

"They're all clean."

"And the Machine Spirit?"

"Seems cooperative enough, but it's not like we have a Machine Priest to perform a ritual for us. Beside, these tanks are…different."

"I don't like the sound of that Ruven."

"It's just…get inside, you'll see what I mean," Ruven disappeared down the hatch, Ladaee and Henry trading looks of cautious before following the tank lieutenant into the Stormhammer interior. Climbing down the ladder, Elpida's head smacking against the metal hull a few times, Henry entered a surprisingly wide but short corridor. Expecting to see the usual gloomy gothic architecture and an overabundance of skulls decoration, like that cross-section picture on 1d4chan, Henry found himself surrounded by a rather pleasant dark chrome décor, brightly lit up by calming orange fluorescents, the symmetry and design actually reminding him of a modern day M1 Abram tank cockpit.

Huh, looks like someone really skimp on the grimdark.

"This is rather…" Ladaee ran her hand over a wall, "pleasant."

"A lot better than the old girl, that's for sure," Ruven agreed and led them into the main command cockpit situated at the Stormhammer forward compartment. The vertical cylindrical shaped cockpit was separated into three tiers, each metal grilled floor connected by a narrow ladder. The first tier contained the commander's chair surrounded by six curved monitors that encompassed the upper half of the wall. The second had the driver seat, the gunner seat and two computer consoles, all four work stations dominated by crisp screens displaying digitized data and live feed of the Stormhammer exterior. The third was the ammo chamber, grey shells sat in pristine rows along one side of room, locked in place by chains and magnetic, waiting to be carried to a trio of magazine like contraptions where six mechanical spider arms hovered above, three autoloaders connected to the triceratops barrels sat at the other end of the cramp confines.

"We ready to go?" Ruven asked Konas, the driver nodded and tapped the keypad fixed into the right armrest of his chair. After a moment, the picture on the curved screens became crystal clear, showing the exterior of the Stormhammer, the front, the back and the sides at six different angles.

"More or less," Konas steadied his breathing. "Never drove a Baneblade before and I'm not in any way familiar with the control. But it got a pedal and a steer so it shouldn't be hard to grasp."

"Move out then," Ruven was climbing up to the first tier when Konas shot him an incredulous look.

"And go where? There's nowhere to go," Konas pointed out the obvious.

"Maybe I can try shooting those gears over there," Bektra tried moving his controller stick, the turrets above gave a loud, but smooth, whirl in response. The screen in front of the gunner showed the hangar covered in blinking runes displaying wind speed, elevation, distant and a triangle crossfire in the center.

"I wouldn't advice that," Henry made his input. "A discharge from a Stormhammer cannon might cause a cave in."

"So what do we do sir?" Ladaee asked from her seat at the computer, trying to get Elpida familiar with the working of Imperial programming. The Kolasian girl was catching on quick.

"I'm gonna go stashed the bomb inside those hinges," Henry took up Ladaee's backpack, gave a quick look inside, then slung it over his shoulder. "This thing can detonate remotely, right?"

"Of course sir," Henry was turning back toward the corridor when Ladaee reached out and grabbed his arm. "Be careful."

Smiling, Henry gave her hand a gentle tap, "always."

As he climbed back up the hatch, Henry could hear the jeering tease of the tank crew before getting silenced by Ladaee's whip like hiss. Adjusting the pack on his back, Henry quickly scaled down the tank. Back on the ground, Henry sprinted across the empty hangar and was soon standing in front of the gear and hydraulic contraption that seemed to be holding up the metallic ceiling above. Quickly ascending the maintenance ladder, the boom from above having gone silent, a bad sign all things considered, Henry swiftly climbed up the rusty gear and stashed the first bomb inside. He repeated the process on the other gear and within five minutes was running back to the Stormhammer, finding Ruven waiting for him at the hatch.

"Ladaee told me to give you this sir," Ruven handed him a wireless headphone with a mic before patting Konas's MG42, now fixed atop the hatch, "while this is my present to you, knowing how you like to be in the fight."

"Thank you lieutenant," Henry threw the empty pack down the hatch and shook Ruven's hand. "Good luck."

"Thank you sir," as Ruven slid back into the Stormhammer, Henry activates his headphone with a little tap on the plastic ear pads.

"Can anyone here me?" Henry said.

"Loud and clear, sir," Ladaee's reply came back crisp.

"Thanks for the kind gift Ladaee. It'll be good to have your voice keeping me company up here."

"…Of course sir, I'll do my best to give you all the necessary information," Ladaee said a little breathlessly.

"You're blushing again Ladaee," Henry could practically see Ruven snickering on the other end.

"Ruven! You son of a bitch, get off this frequency!" Ladaee screamed into the mic.

"That would hardly be productive for everyone involved," Ruven went on nonchalantly.

"Alright, alright, enough guys, we still have a job to do," Henry cut it. "Ready?"

"The Stormhammer and the six Macharius are standing by and awaiting your command sir," Ruven adopted a more professional tone, eager and ready.

"Okay then," Henry drew the cylinder detonator with a big red button on top from his awesome general coat, his thumb easing on the rounded plastic. "Here we go."

Breath held, Henry pressed the button. A twin explosions bloomed from across the hangar not a second later, followed by a deep rumbling that send torrent of dust and smoke rushing straight for the tanks. Cursing, Henry ducked beneath the hatch as the billow plume flew pass, peppering him in biting gravels. Henry made a mental note then to procure himself one of those tank goggle Patton and Rommel wore, or at least a Ray-Ban like Joakim Broden.

Henry was rising above the hatch when a mighty tremor ruptured through the hangar, lights swayed and flickered, stacked crates toppled and rocks rain down on him in thick sheen. A tortured metallic screech rented the air, a squealing, agonizing pitch that grew more intense with every passing second.

Oh shit, he fucked up didn't he? Those gears were roof supports and he'd just destroyed the only thing holding the place up, and now they're going to be buried alive. Fuck. A horrid bang pierced through the reverberating din, Henry cringed and waited for the tsunami of dirt to drown him. What enveloped him however was another wave of bitter earth carried on rolling gale, the force hitting his face like a scornful slap. Coughing, Henry swiped his hand across his face when the air cleared and settled, revealing an orange tinged ramp leading upward, back to the surface in all likelihood, the muffled bellow of war machine emanating from above.

"Punch it!" Henry yelled into the mic. "Onward to victory!"

"Aye sir!" Came Ruven enthusiastic response as the Stormhammer lurched forward with surprising speed, Henry holding on to the MG42 to keep his feet steady on the fire step.

Holy shit, how can something that looked like a freaking battleship clock in the same speed as a sport car? Besides the Stormhammer, the six Macharius tanks kept pace, matching horsepower with the hulking war machine. Grip tightening on the MG42, Henry gritted his teeth as the column reached the beginning of the ramp's elevation. The impact was jarring, but not unexpected; Henry was wrenched off his feet and slammed painfully against the hatch rim, pain flared across his side.

"You still with us general?" Ruven spoke up. "That was pretty rough."

"Still hanging on Ruven," Henry croaked a laugh and forced down his pain, the Stormhammer and Macharius climbing up the ramp quickly, maintaining their pristine formation.

Less than minute later, in a scene reminiscent to the Duke of Hazzard, the Stormhammer shot off the ramp and flew a good twenty feet before landing with a concussive boom like when Godzilla came to town. Henry, all the while, was laughing like lunatic. Calming himself down, Henry gave his surrounding a quick sweep. The glass pyramid was behind him, cracked and blackened by explosive, every entrance blocked by mound of debris, shadowy shapes of panicking guardsmen darted across the transparent glass wall. But arrayed directly in front of him were Leman Russ tanks, desecrated with spikey, Death Metal effigy of Chaos, about twenty of them, formed into a formidable wedge.

The Chaos vehicles were frozen in muted incomprehension, not knowing what to do now that they were face to face with a freaking Stormhammer.

"Bektra!" Henry clasped his hands over the headphone. "Waste those motherfuckers!"

"With pleasure general!" The turret honed on a Leman Russ to the right, the cupola and Henry however remained unmoving, its position staying the same. The powerful discharge almost threw him down the hatch, the glaring white flash blinding him, but his ears were surprisingly unaffected. Quickly blinking his eyes back into focus and bracing his legs on the fire steps, Henry vision cleared in time to see the Chaos Leman Russ hurtling back across the square in a mangled heap of flaming metal. The turret turned on the tank directly in front of the Stormhammer and fired from the top barrel. The shot decapitated the Leman Russ and gouged a horrid gash deep into the hull. Finally, Bektra took aim on the third tank and fired from the left barrel the same moment the Leman Russ was leveling its turret on them. Like a bad stunt gone wrong in GTA V, the Leman Russ's carcass flew off the ground and cartwheeled across the square, flattening the heretic mob behind it.

In only fifteen seconds, three Leman Russ lay dead before them.

Taking que from the Stormhammer, the six Macharius fanned out and unleashed a hellish salvo on the stunned and disoriented Chaos line. There was one problem however:

"Hey Ruven, why are they not firing the main guns?"

"We only have enough people to man the driver seat and side guns," Ruven told Henry, "seems to be enough for the moment though."

And indeed it was. The Macharius auxiliary guns were of the overkill sort. Melta cannons, plasma cannons, lascannons and auto assault cannons shattered the night in a fiery conflagration, pouring their deadly payloads with extreme prejudice on the surrounding heretical force. Like before, no return fire came from the Leman Russ, and within minutes what might have been an impressive armor column were reduced to burning, metallic graveyard.

"Keep firing! I don't want to see anything alive in that direction!" Henry pulled the MG42's cocking lever, "rain fire and death upon them!"

Roaring, Henry held down the trigger and swept a blazing arc across the air, the heavy machinegun cackling a demented cacophony. Bright tracer rounds tore into the retreating Chaos traitors, the sinuous line of fire mutilating and decapitating all in its path. By the time the MG42 clicked empty, the flash suppressor and barrel glowing white hot, nothing but corpses, of both the fleshy and mechanical sort, littered the burning square.

"Hold your position!" Henry relayed his command. "Secure the perimeter and be ready for a counter attack."

A hearty 'yes sir!' answered Henry when hollering cheers erupted from the pyramid entrance. Rising to stand on the hatch, Henry raised both fists in the air, index and pinky extended, and roared in greeting to the surviving guardsmen rushing forth from the Ouranos research center, weapons held high in salutation. And unsurprisingly, Tangmo was at the forefront of the group, surrounded by the main characters, all of them still alive but looking like absolute shit. Jumping down the Stormhammer, Henry spread his arms wide and embraced Tangmo, who yelped in pain from the one sided hug.

"Argh! Fuck! Put me down!" Tangmo squawked.

"Oh shit, sorry!" Henry let him go, noticing just then the bloody gashes on Tangmo's awesome commissar coat. "Holy hell, you look like crap."

"No shit," Tangmo's lips thinned into a grimace as he straightened his back. "Oh shit, I think I tore something."

"What the hell happened to you anyway?"

"I…might've gone Dynasty Warrior on their asses, probably got stabbed and shot about fifty times too."

"More like five," colonel Krillen gave his deadpanned input.

"Don't listen to him, he's delirious from blood loss," Tangmo waved Krillen off, drawing a healthy laughter from the men and women around them.

"Well anyway, I got good news and better news," Henry continued brightly.

"For real?" Tangmo irked a brow.

"Good news first, I've download the STC's data into a smaller USB drive. So basically, our objective has been accomplished."

A less than enthusiastic grumble answered the declaration.

"The better news is that we're getting the hell out of here. We've found eight Chimera, fueled and ready to haul all of you back to the command base. So saddle up ladies and gentlemen, we're moving out in thirty minutes."

This time the cheer was deafening.

"You're a life saver dude," Tangmo limped toward Henry and extended his fist.

"Always bro," they fist bumped, but Henry's face took on a worried dimension. "Shit man, can you walk?"

"Slowly," Tangmo nodded, his movement pained.

"Come on man, I'll help you sit down…"

"Please general, allow me to escort the commissar to the Chimera," Tyra appeared on Tangmo's right suddenly and grabbed hold of his arm, the Thai gasping in pain.

"Get off him you stupid girl!" Leilatha stomped up to his left and wrenched him, quite unkindly, out of the redhead's grip. "You're opening his wounds with your callous touch!"

"Umm, ladies?" Henry threw Tangmo's arm around his shoulder and guided him down toward a waist high stump of rock, the commissar breathing in relief as he sat down. "I need the commissar to be combat ready in the coming hours, so I think we should let him rest up a bit."

Both women were far from receptive of his suggestion, but they obeyed swiftly enough while the other guardsmen went about trying to make themselves comfortable as they waited for the transport to arrive.

"So," Henry seated himself down beside Tangmo, a shit eating grin plastered across his face. "Spear fishing huh?"

"Hey," Tangmo shrugged innocently. "You can catch more than one with a single thrust."