What I fight for

XI Parley

- Greetings to you, legionary Titus, - he raised the weapons to the voice, but his arms didn't obey, - put down your pistol, I hadn't saved you to kill after thousand years.
- For me it's been less than two centuries, - the Astartes sheathed the sword and mag-locked the plasma-pistol back to his thigh. He looked at the mutilated corpses of bad looking humans laying on the plateau, - what do you need me for, librarian?
- Don't mind them, - Portunus nodded to the dead men, - I just needed a reason to be here. Why, you think too highly of yourself, Titus of the 16th! You just said two centuries, I see the road I sent you took some time. But you must agree, the lost time worth the possibility to continue your life. I've been waiting for someone here, but not the lost legionary. How did you come here?
- I work for an inquisitor, - confessed Titus. Standing in his patched excuse for an armor, chewing the hose of oxygen, in front of another space marine clad in a full power suite stung him for a moment.
- That's a good thing. Those humans have means to do what I want. Tell me more.
- He sent me to find the reason of some strange activity on this moon.
- And you have, - chuckled the psyker, - will he join us? Do you have a connection to him?
- I lost my means of communication. Can't say when he or his crew come here, but think they will eventually. One of the flyers of another inquisitor got shut down by some beast.
- Don't mind it either. It's gone, - Portunus drummed the pommel of his sword with his fingers: the dark golden horned skull grinned under the black ceramite, - I'm not almighty, but this accident ended well. You are alive, which for the sake of our common past I find a pleasing news and the burned humans will beckon the inquisitor for sure. Have you come in such state, or did some of them survived the rough landing?
- They blamed my master for the attack.
- Master? You said no to your former brothers, but succumbed to a human, - chuckled Portunus.
- I call things what they are. Joining you would be a treason forever; this mortal holds me for the throat for now. And I prefer killing xenos than killing humans.
- Still fighting for the Imperium then, Titus.
- I fight for surviving. That hasn't changed. What do you want from the humans? It is not a trap.
- You are right, it isn't. - Portunus put off his helmet: one eye turned black and resembled a bottomless pit. A third eye winked at Titus. The multi-color and slanted form told of its origin. The psyker snorted. - As you see, I have changed a bit. Another gift from the sneaky allies.
- You have an opportunity to pay back, - nodded Titus.
- To their protégé. I guess, even you have heard of the great warp storm. Ezekyle has succeed this time.
- Ezekyle Abaddon? The first captain is alive?! - everybody knew how close Mournival was to the Warmaster. Titus was sure that the council fell with the mad Primarch.
- He took the Horus' place. He is my "master" these days, - answered Portunus, mocking his own and Titus' positions.
- And he is coming here?
- Only your total ignorance excuses you, brother. Abaddon dreams of Terra, he doesn't care for such trifling worlds as this system. And to his honor, he doesn't knee to the warp masters. But my current captain does, - the third eye rolled and winked, Portunus snarled ferociously, - he feeds the Astartes to the daemons, true Black Legionaries, not only those newborn pawns. The bastard tried this trick with me, - the psyker put the helmet back and slapped himself on the image of eye on his forehead, - but I tamed the imp. He is planning to summon daemons in this forgotten corner of the galaxy to show Imperium that there is no safe system. I sabotage his plan and he get punished. Would you like to help your brothers to rid of the vile scumbag? You will save many humans, if this motivates you more, - chuckled Portunus.
- I have no influence on the inquisitor, - Titus was under no illusions - the librarian would kill him as soon as he thinks it suites him. They both stood unarmed, but the cursed powers gave Portunus an upper hand he couldn't beat. - Don't think he would listen to you at all.
- Is he a psyker?
- Yes and a strong one.
- He will listen to me, and then to you. Tell him how we met. Now you have to bear it, - his body got stiffed and floated up a little bit, the psyker stepped forward and disarmed him, tossing the weapons aside. At least not off the plateau. - You will not need this for now, Titus, your master is close, let's not give him a reason to kill you for something you didn't commit, - his body soared further away of the psyker. The defenseless state enraged him; the pain squeezed the brain, - just hang there a bit.
Tutus was floating for a half of minute, then fell down - Portunus got hit with the a bullet, though the charge left no mark on his armour.
- Now stay out of it, if you cherish your existence, - the librarian warned him and addressed the attacker through the loud speaker in his helmet, - I want to speak with you, humans, - another shot in the chest, - I brought a message for the inquisitor! - dead air of Pheres shimmered around the psyker, stopping another charge, and he took cover behind a rock. Here came the roar of engine - the flyer descending to the plateau, Titus recognized the familiar vessel of the Inquisitor, one of the heavy ones. His vox-channel was open, but no one tried to reach him. Have they taken him for a traitor already? Tapio could hit him, he was laying openly. The Astartes could move and he probably could stand up, he wasn't sure about fighting and to his big surprise was glad about this - for the first time in his life Titus wasn't sure whom he should hit. Should he protect himself from the humans and escape the damned Sebastian asking his former brother for help? Or should he assist the inquisitor and his crew to catch the Black Legionary, proving his loyalty to mankind. Portunus was a traitor after all and saving him last time hasn't changed that. The aircraft hovered above the far corner of the plateau. He saw, how the black Astartes looked over his cover and got shot in the head.
- Give me the inquisitor! - Titus felt the psychic blast. The traitor stretched out his hand and the flyer got aflame: dark, almost black, fire surrounded the machine, eating through the hull. The burning vessel got lower, letting three figures to jump out, and then the servitor-pilot steered it away from the plateau. The sound of the engine ceased.
- If you kill them, he won't listen to you! - Titus warned the other Astartes. He had no power nor authority to stop the fight, but his former brother was strong enough to finish the combat without corpses. If Portunus cherishes his revenge, he will do so. The librarian kept silence, hiding from the shots behind the rock.
The hunchback approached cautiously, keeping the covered enemy at gunpoint. Two figures in power armour ran to the rock, firing their pistols, one after another. Jacob was easy to identified, the second could be Pison or another acolyte or hired gun he didn't know. The dressed-up human put away his bolt-pistols and produced the sword from the back. Titus sat leaning on the mountain, seeing the hiding librarian to his right. Jacob raced him by activating his weapon, while his companions kept firing at the rock. A son of Horus, traitor or not, wasn't somebody who would stay passive in battle. The giant in black armour jumped over the stone meeting the long blade of the human with his own sword. Power fields clashed, that acolyte was very good - stood up for a moment to an Astartes. Next second the fist, clad in ceramite, punched Obrecht in torso. The right hand with sword pushed away the long blade and the golden image of the daemon hit the human in the visor. The swung sword was ready to cut Jacob, but was hit and tilted - Tapio was a hell of a sniper. Portunus grabbed the acolyte with his left and tried to toss him, but the garment torn down. Jacob used that moment to strike the Astartes with his left; the short punch was met with Portunus' right fist, but thank to it, the human escaped the finishing hit by the sword, which were hit again by the hunchback. Meanwhile, the second opponent attacked the Astartes from the back, firing the las-pistol. The librarian finally slashed Jacob with his blade. The long sword, pressed to the body, saved the man, but the strike pushed him away. The space marine left him be for now and turned to the annoying enemy behind - Titus saw a fresh scorch on the back of his head. The human ran backwards, shooting his pistol; Portunus ran after him and as soon as he showed up at the opposite side of the stone, he got shot in the head. The Astartes kept running, though Titus saw how his lens cracked. The librarian froze in few steps before the acolyte and bowed his head, turning his body as he was struggling through the blizzard - the human stopped him with the psychic power. Could it be Sebastian, just in another outfit? Tapio fired at the restrained enemy, hitting the head half the time. The protective field started to glitch after all damage it received in this short battle. The human psyker petrified with tension, while Jacob darted to the weaken opponent with his sword raised to chop. The figure in the grey power suite fell first - whoever was behind the ceramite, he just slipped down with the same stiffness in the limbs. The Black Legionary raced to Tapio, leaving Jacob to slice the emptiness. The hunchback stood his ground till the end and got to send two more bullets before the punch in the head knocked him out. Titus couldn't tell if the tossed aside sniper was alive or dead. Even if the librarian spared the human, the punch must have smashed the breathing mask so the man would die anyway. Portunus turned to Jacob, parrying his ferocious attacks. Titus saw that his gene-brother could have slain the acolyte couple times already, despite the skills of the human, he was not a match to the Astartes with Portunus' experience. Another flyer was approaching. Hearing this, the marine strike the handle of the long sword. Jacob did the best what he could - he let the heavy weapon go. Now he was unarmed against the Astartes. Portunus knocked him off with the kick, grabbed for the artificial leg and threw into the rock, behind which he took cover earlier. The big human hit the stone and laid still. The engine roared louder, so the librarian darted to the psyker and lifted it up.
- Pison, that's the name of the inquisitor? - he asked loudly.
- It's his novice, - replied Titus, wondering if the approaching flyer carried Sebastian.
- I'll wait, - the librarian tossed Pison on the edge of the plateau. The acolyte should refrain from sudden moves, when he awakes. Portunus looked at Jacob and stepped closer. Brightly dressed human jumped to his feet and got knocked back with the black fist cracking the helmet, - after us, the Emperor had no decent warriors, - the space marine chopped off the artificial leg, - stood up one more time and I will cut off your own.
The stunned Jacob didn't answer, Titus thought how much air would he lose trough that crack. Portunus stood still, watching the sky, which must reveal the hidden aircraft soon.
- May I give the oxygen to the hunchback? - he asked the librarian. His weapons laid in different corner of the plateau.
- Still can distinguish separated persons among them, Titus? - The Astartes took the mocking for the "yes" and stumbled to the knocked out Tapio.

- Can you listen to his vox?
- Master Titus' vox, master?
- Yes! - "don't call him master", - he wanted to add, but saw no point. The Astartes was a tool, but whose? His or the cursed legion's? Or did the fate saved Titus for another use, differ to the holy Inquisition's or her archi-enemies' purposes? Acolytes said the giants wasn't talking peacefully, but their chat must have been stopped and he ordered to attack. No parley with the ruinous powers' minions. And now, all his operatives failed and presumably dead.
- The vox-system is functioning but not active, master, - creaked the servitor, - we are approaching the destination. All three old masters are alive.
- Let me disembark, and take high. If I die, bring Ataraxis back to inquisitor Dana. Also, delete all data on Titus and inquisitor Kacper.
He must finish it by himself. Fighting an Astartes-psyker one-to-one was almost a death sentence: the enhanced body will do all the killing, his opponent needs just to parry his first psychic attack. And now, when he was already exhausted spiritually and mentally! Well, he must redeem his crimes of deceiving and being deceived or get punished for that. The All-mighty Emperor, protect me! Sebastian felt the powerful enemy and his own tools scattered below him. Titus' mind with the psy-conductor was the brightest for the inquisitor. His acolytes and the servant were unconscious, while the traitor covered up his mind. He built up his own defense.
- Opening the hatch in five Terran seconds, master. - He wished he was that emotionless: anger, fear of be branded a traitor, guilt for killing Kacper and his disciple. And the igniting fury of the possibility, that all this might be in vain. Two seconds, one second.
Sebastian jumped to the ground, the activated mace in his right. Servo-muscles drove him forward, supporting his own disobeying limbs. If his body can't run to His enemy, then the Imperium's technology will deliver him to the foe. No rest, no surrender, no mercy! A faithful can't stand an alive traitor. Sebastian saw Titus, pressing a breathing mask to Tapio's beaten face, he would knock him out for the later interrogation, but could spare no power - all his abilities were focused on protecting his mind. The sorcerer stood still, while the servitor drove the flyer away.
- Are you the inquisitor? - the traitor marine asked aloud, holding hands crossed on the chest.
- ... - no parley with the enemy, the vile speaks nothing but lies. Sebastian start to shoot his pistol.
- I have a message for you, human, - his bolts exploded inflicted no harm to the black Astartes. He dropped the gun and gripped the mace's handle tighter with both hands. The mind was walled, the mental attack would be stopped and he will crush the traitor with the mace. If the marine would rely on his physical superiority, that wall will turn into the ram. The giant slowly produced a power sword, - I'm giving you a chance to protect this system, mortal.
- The Emperor Protects! - with this thought Sebastian charged the traitor. His secrecy led to the deaths of servants of Him, as eager and zealous as himself. But he was pure and innocent. No taint of the Chaos has touched him ever and none would. His faith cuts off any vile tentacles the warp stretches to him.
The wall around his mind got broken, almost knocking him out. Along with his mental barrier the marine also laughed at his physical attack - the mace hit the air. Blinded Sebastian, swung his weapon, which were parried with the sword in the steady hand, he almost dropped the vibrating handle. The swift hand caught his gorget and pulled him down on the knees. The inquisitor used the mace as walking stick, but it was kicked out his hand.
- Listen to me! - his head got lifted up and he met the gaze of the third eye in the middle of the black helmet. The image glowed and rolled, piercing his lenses and digging into his very soul.
- Begone, daemon! - snarled Sebastian, spitting out blood, which origin he couldn't tell: did it come from inside or drained from the face. He's survived the attack and must gather his forces for the last strike. The inquisitor squinted from the bright golden light. Has he failed and died already? Too soon! He was not ready to meet the Emperor yet!
- Sebastian! Sebastian, my boy, have you not learned anything? - the light dimmed and the strict face of his mentor emerged before him. Wrinkled bald head shook disappointedly.
- Master Abate? - he believed he would meet his teacher in death, but didn't dare to hope for such personal reunion. Joining the host of righteous ones in His light was enough for the inquisitor, - I have failed you, master Abate. The secret you trusted to me brought only shame and deaths.
- The death is always in our way; we don't let her slow us down or seed doubts. The next battle is ahead of you. Listen to the Astartes, he will show you the way.
- He knows nothing, he is merely a tool, - the golden light gone, Matteo seemed ill and ancient, way worse than he did before leaving him. Was it how he looked before the death? Sebastian imagined he would do so.
- He is not a tool! - angrily screamed the mentor, shaking his cheeks. - The marine knows much more, than I do. Listen to him, as you would to me, inquisitor! The daemons are coming and you must stop them. He will tell you how.
- He is the traitor and the arch-enemy, nothing but lies come from him, - he couldn't understand his mentor: master Abate taught him that speaking with the enemy was a treason. The tainted with the warp must die, not to be listened to. But Titus wasn't tainted with the warp, the black giant was. Who was the mentor speaking about? Sebastian tried check how many Astartes were around him and turned his head, but it didn't move - the hard stare of the older inquisitor held him tight. There were no strictness and faith in those eyes, only hatred and impatience. He couldn't remember the color of those eyes, but was sure it was different. - Who are you?
- I summoned you not to make an acquaintance, human, - one eye of the gone mentor turned black, then a third one popped up on the forehead. In a moment master Abate became a stranger, slightly similar to Titus, - I'm sparring your worthless life sending the message light way. Planet Olynthum will be under attack soon! But it...
- Burn in His light, traitor! - Sebastian could only curse. He came back to his senses, but had no powers to hurt the deceiver.
- Stupid bastard! Mortal maggot! - the Astartes lifted him up as an empty sack. Sebastian's legs dangled as unrolled scrolls. But his hands responded and he put his fingers into the daemon's eye, feeling how ceramite squash the filthy substance, - pain is nothing for me, human, - the same eye emerged on the temple, winked and crawled to the old place, bulging under the scarred skin of the Astartes, - see for yourself, fool!
With accurate strike of the sword the black marine cracked open his helmet like a nut. Sebastian felt the hit, new blood ran over his face, lenses went off. The gauntlet torn off the piece of his helmet, exposing his right side of the face to the still atmosphere of Pheres. The same hand ripped the blessed scriptures off the inquisitor's chest. Sebastian felt how expose he became to the warp. The stink of Chaos filled his nostrils. The oxygen was going out fast, pouring out into the dead atmosphere. He heard the hissing of the damaged breathing system which turned into the roar of burning tornados: sky-high pillars of orange fire were ravaging the red ground. Sebastian knew, there were people and settlements not just turning to ashes, but being devoured by the damned abyss of the Empyrean. Now he saw enormous rockcrete spires of a Hive-World. They stood tall and proud, towering over the dirty clouds covering the gigantic city. Flashes of light emerged down below, dimmed by the polluted air. Next explosion shuttered one spire and it fell down, crushing lower levels of the hive. Crowded people were dying in hundreds of thousands. Sebastian somehow knew for sure, that it was Olynthum T, and he was certain that those deaths, however numerical they seemed, were nothing compare to the treat to Abderra. The sand planet would be a place of catastrophe, which ruin the whole system. And he could prevent it. If he does as the Astartes would tell him.
- Are you ready to fulfill your duty, inquisitor? - the traitor marine chuckled, putting him down.
- Show me more, - the armour kept Sebastian straight. He opened his exposed eye, surrounded with crusted blood and put off the last mental defense he had. Welcoming these horrorful images, Sebastian bared his mind and stroke with the remnants of his powers, combined with the faith.
- I'll feed your soul to daemons! - the Astartes knocked him down with a slap, in his rage the marine hit the remaining ceramite on his head. The traitor stopped trying to make him listen - psychic powers were gathering around the marine for the final blow. Failure didn't discourage the inquisitor. The will of the God-Emperor demands the death of the traitor and Sebastian, as His hand, must fulfill it.
- I am in the midst of a spiritual battle, and my enemy is powerful. I feel weak and weary. - Sebastian addressed the Emperor, crawling to the mace, laying glowingly in two steps from him, - I will not give up, for You have granted me authority over the dark powers, - the inquisitor stood on his fours, grabbing the handle, - I resist the false gods, standing firm in my faith, - Sebastian stood up and swung the sacred weapon, - I step into divine strength you lent me, and I am ready to stand against the evil. Guide my hand, Mighty one!
The black fire surrounded him, pushing away, flames took shapes of deformed skulls, literally licking him. Sebastian felt no pain, no heat, no reek of damned sorcery. His faith protected him. The faith and the last gift from the venerable Matteo Abate. The mace flew out the vile fire and hit the breast of the traitor. The inquisitor stepped forward, the flame was dissolving, leaving him unspoiled. The marine's chest was broken, black ceramite splintered and pressed into the body, crushing the strengthen bones and muscles. The lips moved silently; the third eye franticly crawled around the doomed head. This body ceased to be a vessel for the filthy spirit, and it was looking for another. The mace pulverized the skull, banishing the spirit back to its world. Sebastian turned to Titus, who stood still next to Tapio. The inquisitor heavenly put down the mace, using it as cane, and threw up blood. He grabbed the end of the old sash, feeling the warm protective field generator, hidden in it. The sacred relic and the faith have saved his life one more time. But he used his powers too much today, and the brain was on fire. Remembering where and with who he was kept him awake. The inquisitor must deal with Titus using only material means. Mace and fists then.
- Traitor, - Sebastian snarled and went forward Titus, putting the heavy weapon on his shoulder, - pay for your crimes, - what did he really know about this ancient marine? Titus and that psyker were brothers, made by one pattern. Living that long without help of the dark powers? How mentor Abate and he himself could be so blind? The Astartes must die.

- Traitor, pay for your crimes, - the inquisitor stepped to him rising the mace. Both psykers used their powers a lot during the short fight, every blast wave hit his mind could drag him down into the dark sea of unconsciousness. Titus stood up when Sebastian defeated Portunus. The human didn't look good or sane.
- I commit no crime, inquisitor, - he really didn't, - the warp creature destroyed the other flyer of Kacper, his men blamed you and attacked me. I survived and came here seeing the light, guessing it would be the source of the emission that brought us here. I was going to wait for you here, but found him. - Sebastian was coming to him, his visible eye glowed with hatred and menace. There was not much sanity in that blooded face surrounded with the wrecked ceramite. - Looked into my mind, human! I did meet him before once, he is the one, who sent me to this system, though I cursed him and the rest of them for the treachery.
But Sebastian didn't hear him and couldn't. The human was shocked and no words would persuade him. Titus needed him alive to get off this moon. He should stop the inquisitor, not hurting him, though he would burn his mind as soon as get the chance. Damned psykers!
- Your crew needs help! - Titus tried for the last time and jumped away from the mace. The hit left a crater next to laying Tapio. The inquisitor didn't care for his serfs at the moment. The human walked clumsy, but hand swung the weapon fast enough to send Titus to his former brother. The plateau was big enough to give him space to maneuver out of lethal blows. If only he wasn't dizzy and weak himself.
- Traitor! - Sebastian raised the weapon high and Titus screamed of the pain, falling to the ground. A loop of fire squeezed his brain, pulling it out of the skull. He stretched out the left hand and the mace destroyed it, leaving him with an agonizing stump of a shoulder with hanging rags of flesh. The pain almost knocked him out, it was the ultimate test for his body. Titus kicked the inquisitor, knocking him down. Still laying he kicked the human in the torso, sending him away from the mace. Using his right hand, and painting the rock with blood out of his left, the Astartes stood up and stepped to Sebastian. Titus put the feet on the grey ceramite pressing his master to the ground and put the oxygen hose back in his mouth - he bit off the tip when lose the hand.
- Come to your senses, human! - the legionary fought the desire to squash the psyker, - I am not your enemy! Call the flyer, get us out of here! - the inquisitor moved under his boot sluggishly, - damn you!
The Astartes leant to the human and called the servitor through the vox - no response. Titus left the psyker be and came to Pison, taking the mace from the inquisitor. The acolyte was unconscious and didn't react to being lifted up and laid down next to his master. Jacob breathed weakly inside the cracked helmet, no more noises inside. Where is his own helmet? Titus found it and put on, spitting out the oxygen tube. The signal returned.
- Does anybody hear me?
- I do, master Titus.
- The inquisitor down and needs help, as well as all other humans.
- Is the master alive? - answered the automate.
- Yes, but not for long, take us away now, - the servitor didn't answer. Before he called him again, he heard the descending flyer.
- I am reading his vitals, - creaked the robed serf, - stay away, master Titus, or I will shoot you.
- I've gotten my share of fighting for today, - the Astartes moved to the edge of plateau, standing right between the rock and his weapons - if the automate will behave as its master, he would fight it and took the flyer. Though, to fly away would be likely impossible.
The hatch closed behind the veiled figure and the servitor came to the inquisitor. It stood motionless before it for couple moments and produced a tiny segmented limb with an injector on its end. The needle disappeared inside the broken helmet and returned. In half a minute Sebastian came back to his senses. Titus felt how the powerful mind woke up.
- He is here bareheaded, master, - the servitor replied to the human.
- We fought and you won, - Sebastian repeated out loud.
- I gave no cause, inquisitor. You may check my mind later, but now we must get out, your men are down.
- Your hand, - the human stood up and looked around.
- That's how much I am innocent.
- Nobody is innocent, Titus, - replied Sebastian, - hand over your knife to the servitor and bring the men onboard. Servitor, collect the weapons and bring the flamer.
- Yes, master.
The robed figure picked up the mace and handed it to the inquisitor, who leant on it. He looked awful, but it wouldn't take much to knocked himself out either. The servitor gathered scattered arms and came to him, pointing the las-pistol of Pison at his face. Titus handed out his blade, picked up Jacob and strolled to the flyer. The blood stopped bleeding long ago and pain was suppressed, but he already missed his arm. Brothers with artificial limbs told him how fast they adjusted. He wonders, how sincere they were. The hatched open before him and he brought the acolyte inside, followed by the servitor, who told him to wait outside. When the robed serf came out, he held a flamer with two limbs, the third changed the las-pistol for plasma one. When Titus was carrying Tapio to the shuttle, he heard the inquisitor murmuring prayers, standing over Portunus. Coming out for the last human, he found his former brother aflame. The Astartes has been escorted to the very cell where he started his acquaintance with the inquisitor. The engine came alive and took him away from Pheres. Holding the pouch with the single hand he left, Titus grimly praised himself with one more dubious win.

- How is he? - Sebastian was wearily stepping to the exit.
- Master Titus is alright, I have no means to help him, master, - responded serf.
- Mechanicus will look after him. Take care of them, - he glanced at his beaten crew and went out. One traitor marine made it, and many more were coming. He needed to know more, but first comes the rest.
- Inquisitor, Chasseur sent request for an urgent communication, - the flying-skull greeted him with reminding of his sin.
- Here is my answer: we were under attack of a powerful sorcerer, inquisitor Balek perished with all his men. I'm wounded, my crew is severely damaged. The servitor will deliver the pict-footage of the enemy. Ordo Malleus thanks Ordo Xenos for the cooperation and mourns the fallen servants of the Emperor, - Sebastian turned to the priest, - send me a servitor to put off the armour. Look to the needs of the Astartes. Do what you can for the acolytes and Tapio. I have to rest. Ataraxis to keep its position. No further communication with Chasseur till I return to the command bridge.
- Yes, inquisitor, - the Martian was already getting aboard. The servitors froze, letting him out the mooring box.
When Sebastian came to his cabin, a servitor already was waiting for him. No lighted candles and the hot drink from now on. The inquisitor put off the ceramite plates and sub-suite and fell into the bed. Ravaging fire and explosions filled his dreams, but these were old memories of unending war he has seen. To see what was ahead, he must wake up. Sebastian opened his eyes; he didn't feel rested at all.
- Servitor! - but the vox system was offline. The inquisitor sat up, and the pain pierced his head. He clenched the teeth and stepped to the communication panel, pushed few buttons, - Servitor, how long did I sleep?
- Can't say, master. Since you have left the deck three hours and seventeen Terran minutes have passed.
- Bring me water, food and medicae supply, - he switched off the vox. Three hours -injector with several needles, which grand him the desired rest, - sleep tight, master.

The still darkness let him go. He saw the familiar celling above and turned his head, expecting pain - none came. Sebastian cautiously sat up, feeling thirsty and weak - still no pain. The inquisitor stood up - there it was. Wincing, he drank what water left and checked the info panel - he has slept eleven Terran hours and a quarter.
- Anything to report, servitor? - the inquisitor called the serf through the vox, adjusting to the pain and dizziness in the head. The sleep and injections did its job; he was ready.
- Greetings to you, master. The surgeries on the crew went successfully. How can I serve, master? Sebastian dismissed the servant and put on the robe. The armour and weapon will not help in the next step. He went to the medicae compartment, which was a part of the techno-priest domain.
- I'm listening, - Sebastian said to the servo-skull meeting him.
- One flyer is utterly destroyed with the servitor on board, - as always, the Martian started with machines, - your helmet must be replaced with the spare one, inquisitor. Acolyte Obrecht's helmet is being repaired right now.
- And his leg? - the inquisitor came to the bunks occupied with the wired humans, stripped of their armour and cloth, seeing the answer for himself.
- I can't fix the prosthesis. The simpler option was used, - creaked the skull, hovering over the sleeping big man. Intricate bronze kneecap went into a crude piece of metal Luisa used for her last day. The foot got thicker and wider to match the man's other leg, which now, stripped of the armoured boot, looked shorter than the artificial one. The skull flew to the next man's bed, - bones were removed and replaced with metal. Praise the Omnissiah! The optic wasn't damaged.
- I see, - Sebastian looked at the sniper, whose face became even less human: right below the visor the plain metal plate went from cheekbone to cheekbone, one round hole with grill was at the place of the broken nose. The upper jaw was gone too: in slightly open mouth he saw a singular long smooth "tooth". Well, he can eat and breath by himself, then his war continues. - His riffle?
- The weapon is alright, inquisitor, - answered the techno-priest, occupied somewhere else, - as well as the acolyte Pison. His power armour has been cleaned twice. The servitor drugged him; I have nothing to add on his condition.
- I see. How is my suite?
- Cleaned twice as well. Titus' armour is practically intact but for the left arm.
- Any prothesis to him, Mechanicus?
- Negative. I have no knowledge on Astartes biology. The damaged flesh has been removed; the stump patched. An armoured cover up is possible.
- Do it then. What was the Chasseur's response?
- The ship left the system in five hundred forty-five point seven Terran seconds after I sent the report, inquisitor. No further messages.
- Did your fellow engine-seers in the system report on any new activity?
- I did not communicate with them.
- Please do. Everything they check to be checked twice as often as long as we stay in this system. Anything unusual to be reported to Ataraxis immediately. In the name of the Inquisition. Take us to the low orbit of Olynthum. Same report to the Administratum if such request would come.
- Yes, inquisitor, - Sebastian turned from his retinue. For his satisfaction he sensed no corruption in them. Now he must check on the questionable tool.
- Servitor! Meet me on the deck

He looked at the same flyer which brought the Astartes to Ataraxis not so long ago, but now he understood even less. Sebastian felt the presence of Titus and knew where he was, so he didn't waste his still unrecovered powers to address his prisoner. The robed servitor walked before him, hiding his numerical limbs inside. They came aboard and moved to the cell. Sebastian felt calmness and confidence of the Astartes, no trace of Chaos corruption. He tensed his powers, letting psyching energy to flow through him. It was like sipping the hot drink with already burned mouth. The closer look gave the same result: clean serene mind. Titus showed one more time that he wasn't human. The serf opened the door.
- What did he show you, Titus?
- Nothing, inquisitor, - the Astartes stood still in his sub-suite. The ugly stump attracted his eyes, but he looked straight in the marine's face. If Kacper's death saddened him, the loss of the arm didn't at all. - I've met that traitor before, but the encounter on Pheres had nothing to do with it. He said he summoned someone from the Imperium to warn about a planned daemon invasion.
- What did you two talk about?
- His superior serves to the warp spirits and he despised him for that, so planned to sabotage the coming plan. I told him that you would not listen to him.
- The servant of the Dark Powers despised the warp? Rather the inner struggle of the cursed traitors, - snorted Sebastian; the Astartes didn't argue. Sebastian wanted the sincere answer and gazed at Titus mentally, - your arm?
- It was battle, - shortly replied the prisoner. He felt no hidden malice or desire for revenge. A scratch or severed limb for the Astartes seemed to mean all the same. - I guess you wanted to hear more, inquisitor. Let me assure, that the situation stayed the same for me: to serve or to die. I lost a limb, not a reason to live.
- The situation is such, Titus, that it is a question, if your service is still needed, - Sebastian muttered to himself, when he left the mooring box.
He ordered the servitor to follow him and walked back to the Mechanicus' area. There the inquisitor came to his armour, gleaming with sacred lubricate and smelled with incense. The helmet was missing, as well as protective scriptures. He had no gloves and pointed on one little sack attached to the pauldron.
- Take this one, - the servitor obeyed and followed him to the unconscious Pison, - how is his vitals?
- Stable, master, - the serf scanned the acolyte, - should I wake him up, master?
- Mentor? - Pison with close eyes asked weakly after the injection. - What's happened, did he escape?
- No, the Emperor's justice has stricken the traitor. Time to understand what all this was about? Are you capable to assist?
- Only as an anchor, master, and I have to admit that I can't move by myself.
- Find a servitor to move him to the astropath's cabin and wait for me there, - Sebastian ordered the robed assistant and strolled to his cabin.
At his compartment the inquisitor got the sash on, tying up the ends tightly. He knelt before the golden image of the Emperor and asked to protect him from the depths of the Empyrean. Sebastian gripped the blessed Aquilla in the right hand and vigorously left the cabin. Boethius has already been standing in the corridor.
- Greetings, inquisitor, - the astropath bowed to him, - I am glad you all came back alive.
- I shall try to finish fast, - he nodded to the adept of the Astra Telepathica and came inside the sealed cabin. - pour it down on the floor.
- Yes, master, - the servitor did so.
- I am ready, mentor, - Pison was sitting in the chair breathing deeply, - let the Emperor protect you.
- The Emperor protects! - Sebastian sat down and grabbed the ash with his left hand. He was still feeling the remnant dust of the traitor with his fingers when colorful nothingness surrounded him.
- Mine! Mine! Let me in! Take me! Mine! - the cacophony deafened him, driving crazy.
- You are not alone, mentor! - the Pison's voice chased the choir away which disappeared taking all the color with it. Now he was in the blackness. Though, he remembered that he was on the board of Ataraxis. To keep this knowledge was important. He had a feeling, that he could fly to wherever he wants, not just fly, but just emerge exactly where or when he desires. This feeling was a lie. The host of hungry spirits shut up and hid, but they were around him, waiting for a moment mistake. Sebastian wasn't free and he must obey strict rules, otherwise he wouldn't leave this place. "This place" wasn't a place, Pison was close, but at the same time he wouldn't find him even if he could move. The inquisitor just knew, that the steady light was behind him. That shining intelligence would help him get out. But not before he did what he came for.
- By the will of the God-Emperor! Portunus come to me! - the blackness shattered like a broken black mirror, reveling the fusion of bright splashes melting one into another. A tangled swarm of clouds or reeks, with no end or beginning. The choir came back, now it got louder and didn't content to just scream. Entities bit and scratched him, devoured his soul, threw up and ate again.
- Faithful one does not fear the vile, for His light will shine on the one when there is life, and will welcome the one when there is death, - almost losing himself Sebastian forced back the spirits of the warp. They moaned with disappointment and showed him his death, all variations of it. The inquisitor didn't watch, he tuned to the pulsation of Pison's mind, guarding his soul. Hearing the acolyte's voice, feeling the true light of human's mind, he felt again the integrity of his own consciousness.
- By the will of the God-Emperor! Portunus come to me! - Sebastian repeated the invocation. And among mad cacophony a single voice stood out. It wasn't louder, it was different to others - it screamed of pain and torture. The spirits wanted to spread eternal torments, while this one was suffering it. - I have invocated you to reveal the treat to Migdonia system, spirit. Obey me! - the warp creatures trembled and hissed, obstructing their victim and the intruder, but strong echo of Pison's prayers kept them away.
- Save me! Stop it! I can't bear it! - Sebastian saw nothing, but he knew it was that traitor marine getting his punishment.
- What is coming to Olynthum and Abderra? Tell me, spirit! - the inquisitor demanded with all authority he felt.
- Fire and blood are coming to your towers, mortal! - the tormented soul stopped moaning and snaped. - But those among you, who live in sand will know what I feel. They let me be and gnaw your trembling souls. The golden corpse won't save any of you, these gods are false. But they are GODS!
- Be gone and receive the penance of the weak! - he banished the spirit, whose renewed moans drown in angry hum of the warp, - Pison, show me the way!
- Are you alright, mentor? - he felt the cautions touch of his disciple, who was looking for traces of corruption.
- Yes, Pison, thank you, - the inquisitor opened up his mind for him to verify his pureness. The hand was empty, the ash on the floor disappeared. He stretched out his limb, - servitor, give me something to clean this up. How long did it take?
- Here, master, - the robed servant gave him a rag wet with the sacred oil, - the ritual lasted for fifty-three seconds, master. The Mechanicus informed me, that Ataraxis is ready for the flight.
- Tell him we are good to go. Pison, well done. Take the rest in your cabin. Or would you prefer the medicae bunk? - he has already checked the acolyte in his turn.
- My cabin is closer, master, - the man smiled. He really did good and was a promising acolyte. Older than his mentor and more gifted. Alas, he lacked the better teacher, but his talent and diligence compensate the mistakes of Sebastian. - I can walk now.
- Servitor will assist you, - the inquisitor went out the cabin. The walls just started to feel solid enough, - master Boethius!
- Yes, inquisitor? - the Astropath was leaning on the wall.
- I urge you to pay greater attention to the warp. There will be messages to intercept.
- I will try my best, the Emperor help me, - Boethius bowed
- The Emperor help us all, - the short talk on the Pheres could be a deception, but the spirits, asked the way he did, didn't lie. The message was clear and he must act. But first he should clean himself properly after plunging in the Empyrean.

- Are we alone? - he asked two men standing apart before him.
- Yes, all my stuff have gone, - the governor nodded and added tranquilly, - all recording or transmitting devices are off too.
- Good, - Sebastian liked the governor Soames, a fast thinking ruler, who demanded efficiency not only from the system he ruled, but firstly from himself. He had a look of fifty years old, sticky build but not heavy to move. Simply dressed, he might seem an outsider in the magnificent palace, but every human and servitor inside the citadel knew, that this man with the bright eyes on the clean shaved face was the master of the Migdonia system.
- The room is safe, - confirmed the Martian. The robed servitor kept silenced, then he also hasn't detected anything.
- Hm, - snorted the second man, leaner and older with complicated beard and bald head, spattered with age spots and data-ports. He was dressed up as Jacob could be, though in different manner.
- Don't waste the inquisitor's time, Gervase, - said the governor.
- Coming here, on the ground, was wasteful enough, - patronizingly replied admiral Alard.
- It is essential to three of us meet face to face. We are the most powerful men in the system, - Sebastian actually lifted them to his level of authority, though the commander of the Fleet would find in vice versa, - and we must protect it. The Chaos is coming.
- When? - they both asked simultaneously, no trace of fear in these experienced protectors of mankind.
- Soon. Alas, that's all I know. The powers are not known either. My lords, your people must be ready and alert. The strictest martial law among our ranks - we can't be too cautious. The civilians must know nothing. The system has already been marked as the target, if the enemy don't strike now noticing our readiness, he will return when we will be less prepared.
- A grief news, my lord, - admiral Alard clicked his heels together, - but we live exactly for such occasions. The Fleet will be ready. Being relieved from the worry for civilians, I guess, I may return to my ship, inquisitor?
- Yes, - Sebastian nodded, - the Mechanicus will go with you - I will need the direct access to some of your information flows.
- Of course, inquisitor. Good luck, old friend, - the admiral gazed at the governor for couple moments and walked to the exit. The stomping Martian followed the human.
- Governor Soames, army and agents of the Law must not know - they are too numerous.
- I understand, my lord, - the man really did.
- The control must be tightened without revealing the true reason. I will call for the help. I may say one more thing, governor Soames, when the first explosion emerges - it won't be the last. Don't send all your forces at once - keep reserve.
- You expect diversion, my lord?
- Where the Chaos there is deceive of all kinds. The hidden enemy will rise its heads, if people at some area will not see immediate response from authority, because all units will be already dispatched, they may be used against us.
- Yes, the crowd goes mad too fast when there are blood and fire. From your saying I got that you won't be in charge, my lord.
- I entrust Olynthum to you, governor. I will look after Abderra.
- Malleus, - whispered Soames, understanding that he was told a part of the horrorful truth. Well, he has been tested by the Emperor already and would do all he could to defend the system He placed under his protection.
- I need approximate report of the battle-ready units on both planets, governor Soames. Meanwhile, the servitor is going to make sure than you and I will receive the same information in the grim future ahead. I am His hand and I will not leave your people alone in the coming fight.
- The Emperor protects!
Sebastian bowed to the man, who matched his position. The better men are at the top - the more chances to survive have those, who beneath them.