What I fight for

XII The Emperor's Knives

- The fights are continuing, my lord, the explosion rate keeps decreasing - the liaison officer reported shortly. The colonel's headquarters kept the open channel with him, providing all data on the battle for Olynthum T. Every five Terran minutes he has been receiving a report plus emergency communications, as from the late governor Soames when the enemy got inside the palace. Last two reports were the same: the worst for the Olynthum has passed, soon the hell come here. Sebastian was sitting, surrounded with humming communication engines, gathering the information for him from the whole system. He was bareheaded, and sensed the familiar incense - the Martian left Ataraxis to look after the complex transmission machine. The techno-priest tirelessly paced from one engine to another, repeating his hymns and invocations, inaudible to human's ear. Between the reports, the inquisitor was calm. The story with Titus meant nothing in the face of the Chaos invasion. And to stop it he must be confident and focused. Keeping the enormous quantity of the information and constantly cogitating the possible outcomes of the defender's actions, Sebastian kept himself sharp with prayers and mental techniques.
- My lord, the insurgents are suppressed in four districts, one fire has been put out, two more emerged, - the vox creaked with the muffled voice, - the districts are...
- Not now, - the inquisitor stopped the officer, - what's on activity of the traitors marines?
- No new confirmed accidents with their presence, my lord. After the attempted attack on the geothermal energy plant, they seem to disappear.
- Inform the colonel that defense of Olynthum is completely in his hands. From now on, use this channel only for emergency.
- Please, repeat, my lord!
- I removed myself from the Olynthum defense operation. This channel will be kept open. Crush His enemies!
- For the Imperium! - replied the officer.
- Vice-admiral Monck, return your ships back to Abderra, - Sebastian turned to other panel and pushed several runes.
- Do...firm the or...sit..ver! - the commander of the second part on naval forces in the system shouted back through the buzz. His fleet has just started the voyage to Olynthum.
- Come back to Abderra, vice-admiral!
- Yes, my...- the inquisitor heard the important part. Where he stayed it was the early dawn, and with the Emperor's help he would make sure that this world will stay alive till the sunset. Now, they wait.

- It's starting, - colonel Arbacu stopped dutifully behind him in several steps. Sebastian pushed the rune with anxiety, breaking his calmness in pieces. The actions on Olynthum proved their plan, though the attack was horrendous and the losses were very heavy. On Abderra the whole operation has been prepared and organized by him alone. And the plan required blood.
- The enemy is here! - came the frighten voice, - they are here, in Abderra-35U!
- Colonel, tell these scouts to retreat, - the inquisitor was dispassionate. He was the hand of the God-Emperor and nobody would see his human side, - Vice-admiral Monck, bombard Abderra-35U!
- The ship will be at position in four Terran minutes, my lord, - came the reply of the commander.
- Governor, - Sebastian activated another channel, - we begun the second arrangement. Stay alert, defend Abderra Prime. Inform me, if the possible unrest will start to sleep out of your hands.
- It will not happen, my lord, - the ruler of the planet replied confidently, - the Emperor help us all.
- The settlement has been destroyed, my lord - after few silent minutes the commander of the fleet informed him.
- Colonel Arbaku? - demanded the inquisitor.
- The first observers are offline. The long-range surveillance squad confirms the successful bombardment, - reported Arbaku in a matter-of-fact way, surrounded with his communication officers and servitors.
- Send them there now, - the traitors showed themselves. Was it a false move to distract him or the first step in their vile plan? Would it be another mining colony or Abderra Prime?
- The enemy spotted in Kumer and Orson, my lord! - reported colonel Arbaku. Orson. It's been swiftly repopulated after that filthy business with the slavers. Good ration and job looked like a paradise for the new settlers. Poor folk, he had to destroy their bodies to protect the souls.
- You've heard it, vice-admiral.
- Two and four minutes, my lord, - Monck was calm like at the exercises.
- The scouts reached Abderra-35U, my lord, - the colonel broke the grim silence, - no enemy to engage with. The civilian survivors are few, no need for the rescue team. The Emperor take these martyrs, - the people around murmured prayers and curses. The enemy made them kill their own preventing the spreading of the filthy corruption. - The close-range scouts in Kumer engaged the enemy and died in battle. The long-range surveillance unit is racing to the remnants of the settlement, my lord.
- Governor? - he checked the status of the prime city.
- Minor explosions and unrest in the lowest districts, my lord. No trace of the Ruinous powers' minions.
- Orson is destroyed, inquisitor. The close observers confirmed the bombardment, - colonel Abraku listened to an officer and continued, - they are pursuing one enemy, according to their description it's a space marine, my lord. The second group of scouts are coming to assist.
- Stop them now! They must keep an eye on him from the distant, don't lose him. Send two squads to assist.
- Yes, my lord, - the colonel answered stiffly. Those several guardsmen meant more to him than entire settlements perished in moments. The enemy might take the first bombardment for a bad luck, but next two showed them obviously that the planet was aware of their plan. Would they retreat now or continue the attack?
- A ship jumped out from the warp! - vice-admiral spoke sharply, obviously just receiving the information by himself, - it is a ship, approximately an Adeptus Astartes battle barge class. Don't respond to our communication. We will destroy it!
- The battle here hasn't ended yet, Monck! - Sebastian cooled down the eager captain, - You may send other ships of your fleet, but your vessel must stay here for further bombardment.
- If it is the battle barge there will be casualties, - begun the vice-admiral, but he cut him off.
- We are fighting for the whole system! And Branitel, as the most armed vessel, will stay at my disposal.
- Yes, my lord, - Monck came to his senses, - the fleet will let the enemy get as close as the safety allows.
- I leave the naval battle to you, vice-admiral. Just be ready to resume the bombardment. - Sebastian was sure, that there would be such occasion. The ship revealed itself to pull the fleet from the planet, so they can proceed their operation. Calling for the ships from Olynthum was too risky, and they wouldn't come in time.
- Agnant, my lord! - after several minutes the colonel named the new settlement where the enemy emerged.
- Agnant, vice-admiral!
- Six minutes, inquisitor, - replied the fleet commander.
- Faster! - demanded Sebastian, having a bad feeling.
- The bombardment is on, - after five and a half minutes reported the vice-admiral. Before the colonel received the confirmation from the scouts, Monck added, - something wrong, inquisitor, the machines show that the charges haven't hit the ground.
- That's right! - cut in the colonel, - surveillance squad witnessed how the salvo dissolved in the air above the settlement. What's going on, my lord?
- Vice-admiral, keep bombardment till the further order! Colonel, one third of the forces are going with me to Agnant. Full speed. The heavy armour will get there when it can.
- The 24th regiment of the Red Champions is ready to defend their home!
- You stay here to coordinate our actions, colonel. Do the surveillance squad see anything?
- No, my lord. The traitors are hiding behind the structures. My boys are getting closer, I'll let you know immediately, my lord. Will you lead the guardsmen by yourself?
- No, - Sebastian answered after the moment of doubt, - appoint an officer, colonel.
- Major Gobryas, inquisitor, will do all you order to him.
- Put him to my channel, colonel, - Sebastian was walking to his crew, ready to unleash accumulated fury. The Chaos scum would pay for deaths of His servants.

The flyer was carrying them to battle. They were in numbers, but against unknown forces of the space marines, the quantity might be insufficient. Especially when the main force of their group was dragging behind. The spearhead units would be on their own long enough to die from the traitors' hands, and he was at the very tip. The stump didn't ache, the injections of the robed servitor and the mystery of his own body have looked to that. It itched. A short stub, above the gone bicep - the Martian should have cut it off clean, but he rejected without explanation. Instead, the techno-priest covered it with carapace. Jacob called it a thimble and everybody laughed. Titus didn't know the word and didn't answer. He has become a laughing stock for humans. He'd see how many of the inquisitor's crew would survive this battle. Not a las-gun was offered him this time, but against his former brothers it would be next to useless. Though, the humans around him relied on it. Sebastian split his warriors among the guardsmen, in order for not to lose all of them in one crash, and Titus was flying inside a Valkyrie with a unit of storm-troopers. Their red armour looked as crusted blood in the dim compartment. The dark hull showed the future. It got well lighted when the explosion torn it apart - the cockpit disappeared from the direct hit, raining the passengers with the shards and knocking most of them down. The Astartes fell too, tossing away the useless handle made for humans. Fortunately, they were flying low, and the flyer, as a headless bird dived in the sand without pouring out the living cargo. Titus thanked the machine spirit for the soft landing, but nobody joined him in doing so - the soft humans have died. He went out the wreck holding his plasma-pistol ready. Agnant wasn't even visible - the enemy intercepted them in the desert, distracting from the cursed doing in the settlement. Titus saw the traitors: two black Thunderhawks were chasing the flock of Imperial transports, which already started to cover the desert with smoking remnants. The flyers fought back, so the inquisitor didn't risk to fly further, having those crude giants behind. He could do no harm to the flying behemoths, but down here were other monsters to deal with.
- See the enemy on the land, - since the common channel was jammed with the dying and agitated humans, Titus reported directly to Sebastian, who either was dead or ignored him. Sinking in the sand, he ran forwards, hoping that another shot down flyer wouldn't crush him. The desert was empty, no stones or rocks to take cover behind. Only remnants of the fallen carriers could give him a shelter from the enemy. A small group of guardsmen survived their crush and were setting down a las-cannon next to a smoking debris. The soldiers perished in the explosion - a black object ahead noticed their action. The Predator kept coming closer, firing his cannon in the air, till the further target showed up on the ground. To his right at the distant Titus saw two more vehicles, those were Rhinos: mounted bolters flashing, black figures trotting behind. Those humans better stop dying in vain and do something: no honor and loyalty would protect him from those enemies. The Astartes ran to the killed squad, may be the cannon outlived the cannoneers. No, the gun was shredded as well as the humans. The air fight was still on, the transports scattered, leaving the Thunderhawks to the fighters, but the heavily armoured enemies pursued the Valkyries, preventing the disembarkation. Some humans did touch the sand, but those were scythed down by the tank and the Rhinos' crews.
- The tank must be stop, - he screamed to the vox, - land the heavy weapon unit now!
- Distract it then! - came the sharp reply from the inquisitor, - you've been kept alive for this!
- Yes! - barked Titus and ran to the next wreck, closer to the Predator. He was here, and the tank was here. To survive, he must destroy it.
When he was crossing the open space, the sand around him burst with shards, and one bolt glanced off his calf, exploding behind. If the shooters in the Rhino saw him, then the tank's crew must have too. But the cannon kept firing up in the air. Titus left the cover and ran to the Predator. He must damage the tracks, make it hard for the vehicle to maneuver, let the traitors spin the cannon, since he can't hit it from the distant. The hot smoked muzzle was already pointed at him. Titus had no time to shoot, he jumped, forcing the servo-muscles to carry him away from the explosion. A shard stuck inside the carapace below the power backpack, he almost died in the first seconds of fight. The shooter figured out his jump and missed just a little. Titus fired his plasma-pistol and mag-locked it to the thigh, drawing the sword. Damn it, he missed the second hand! The charge demolished the protective plate, but the track itself stayed intact. Now he was one-to-one with the roaring tank, which had enough time to meet him with the shot in the face, before the Astartes would get it with the sword. But not the cannon stopped him: the Predator spat promethium smelling fire at him, driving away and rotating the turret at another target. The fire before his nose ceased, and Titus ran after the tank, stumbling once, when the bolt from the Rhino destroyed his right pauldron. The narrow viewing points were dark and concealed the enemy, who ignored him and kept riding backwards, firing at something above. He saw the flash, when the crew did it job, and the smoking flyer dived to the ground. The tank stopped, making the sponsons-mounted flamers a threat again. Moreover, the turret turned back to him. Titus turned and ran for the cover: he has just passed by a fallen Valkyrie. The possible cover exploded before he heard the shot. He turned around to see what his risk had led to: the techno-priest was landing on the turret. Titus saw he jumped out the shot flyer and now the Martian dropped the grav-chute, which slowed down his dive, and stuck his staff in the turret gear-wheel down. The stout figure of the engine-seer got surrounded with chain of explosions, when the traitors from the distant Rhino opened fire, trying to cover their comrades, but defensive field saved the priest. The staff in his hand glowed and the tank's engine stopped. Grudgingly, as Titus heard. Somehow, the priest neutralized the machine, and Titus darted to it before the ceramite monster wakes up. The Martian kept his staff inside the turret and jumped down, hiding from the bolts. The engine-seer stood next to the immobilized flamer. The metallic hand was empty and apparently the Mechanicus disdain touching the corrupted machine with it. So, he used the censer. The priest was surrounded with the smoke as always, but to battle he carried another pattern of the cult equipment: a heavy ball with thick spikes, glowed as a power weapon, pouring out the sacred smoke through the small holes. The flail crushed the flamer.
- Martian, they will get out now! - Titus knew the crew wouldn't sit idle. He joined the priest just in time: the back hatchet opened and a black figure jumped out, shooting the bolt-pistol at the Mechanicus, whose shimmering field withstood. The Astartes charged the traitor, who dared to take him for less dangerous than his augmented companion. The Black Legionary's chainsword parried his sword aside and broken of the collision. Titus crashed into the traitor chest to chest, but the armour of the enemy was much heavier and he couldn't knock him down. He let go the sword and hit the enemy's palm holding the pistol, preventing it from shooting him. The Legionary meanwhile not only tossed his broken weapon, but also caught the Titus' sword. The Astartes hardly escaped the death from his own sword, jumping away. He got used to fight weak humans and got sloppy. Today every one of his numerous enemies exceeded him just by wearing the real armour, and the lack of the hand wouldn't make it easier to survive the day. The traitor raised the gun at the priest, wishing to get rid of the enemy, whose action made him leave the safe belly of the tank. The Martian was ready - the chain of the censer-flail got longer and the weapon hit the black marine in the chest, cracking the armour and made the enemy stumble back. Titus was there, putting the blade in the neck and jumping away from the counter-attack of the relentless enemy. The second hit from the priest cracked open the back of the head, helmet and skull alike. Fortunately, his blade survived. Titus sheathed it, wet with the blood of the former brother. But many more were around ready to kill him to waste time on remembering the last time he slew sons of Horus.
- The weapon is tainted, - creaked the priest in the vox, when he took back his power sword, - it must be destroyed to prevent the contamination.
- I will clean it with their blood, Martian, without it you may shoot myself right now.
The Mechanicus didn't answer, he stood still, waiting for something. Titus looked inside the tank, thinking he would find a driver-servitor, but the driver laid dead outside. With disgust he left the vehicle - the ugly fusion of the flesh, ceramite and the cannon repelled him. The cannoneer, former Astartes, merged with the mechanism in unnatural way, everything cried "warp" inside. That was tainted.
The situation in the sky has changed: seemed like the Thunderhawks were eventually chased away, after knocking down the majority of the transports. The survivors were landing in two groups. One on the far side of the battlefield and the other behind them. Titus looked over the tank for a moment and the hull got shot with bolts: one Rhino was racing to them, preventing the humans to gather in sufficient numbers. The marines would be inside or ran behind. He looked back, where squads of the guardsmen were forming a line on the sand. They were not rushing to join them.
- Do you have something against the armoured vehicle? - he asked the priest.
- Join the humans, Titus, - replied the Martian, - with your armour you will die here.
- What about you? - this question he would ask a brother. The Astartes ran to the line. The Red Champions stood firm, in the face of many comrades burned before the fight started. He hoped they would save the half of their courage when the bunch of space marines would be among them. Tapio, sitting on the sand, saluted him. The Astartes nodded back to the steel-faced hunchback.
- Titus, protect Tapio, - came the short order from the inquisitor. Well, he was alive. Would Sebastian handle the Astartes not so pliant as he has been? Titus counted almost a hundred of guardsmen and some were still joining the line. He saw the las-cannon crews - their only hope to stop the Rhino, which must show up any moment, because their own tanks wouldn't be here soon for sure - plenty of time to scatter the humans and one naked crippled marine. The tank and knocked down transports blocked the view. Titus saw how a crawling figure joined the Martian. Tapio didn't shoot, so it wasn't the enemy. The Astartes looked into the thing - it was a servitor, somehow looking familiar, probably one from Ataraxis. One leg was lost, the bio parts were burned. The wretched creature crawled inside the tank, and the Martian finally started to go their way. A couple of servo-skulls flew under his robe and came to the stuff, still sticking out of the turret. The automates pulled out the weapon, while one was shot down. The left skull brought the weapon to its master and hide under the crimson fabric. The Mechanicus has just joined their ranks, when the Rhino came over the tank, using it as a cover till the very end. The Predator burst from inside, but hasn't damaged the black transport. The racing vehicle got rained with las-beans. Titus heard people screaming aloud, imagine what hum should be on the common channel. The dozer blade, pushing the wave of red sand, took the majority of fire. The las-cannon crews on the right flank got perished in bolter-fire - the black shooter popping out of the top hatch was risking his life for the sake of his brothers. No way the remnants of the heavy weapon units on the left would stop the Rhino. The Mechanicus has already cogitated that and was retreating, swiping the sand. Titus grabbed the sniper to run from the inevitable collision.
- I'll go by myself, - Tapio also was not going to die under the tracks. They left the line of firing humans, who had no such option.
- Keep the line! Fire on! - yelled an officer, whose tan face got pale next to the bright uniform. The man noticed their retreat, what did he think about it, what would he like to do to them?
- The Emperor is watching you, guardsmen! - screamed a lean man in the dark overcoat. He stood out not only with his outfit but also with the confident posture and power sword, pointed at the approaching vehicle, like his authority could mean anything to the Legionaries. - We will stop them here and now, for we are His hammer!
Tapio stopped - have the words of that mortal affected him? No, the sniper laid down, preparing to shoot. Just as Titus, he stepped back, leaving the soldiers to face the attack, that would give him an opportunity to kill the enemy.
The lucky guardsmen were killed with the bolter, the dozer blade gave much worse death. The Rhino rammed the line, crushing and pushing away the humans and the las-cannons. Only three soldiers ran before the racing behemoth, nobody was there to punish them: the upper half of the nearest officer rolled in the pile of corpses, broken weapons and sand before the vehicle. The living wall met the ceramite - it was hardly a heroism, rather a stupidity in Titus' view. But the sacrifice slowed down the vehicle a little bit. The riffle in Tapio's hands twitched, and the bolter, mounted to the Rhino, ceased to spit death. One more shot sprayed the brain of the traitor. The armoured monster turned and raced to the cannon crews on the left flank, right through the humans, who kept the line obstinately. Bright thick rays pierced the guardsmen and hit the roaring vehicle - the heavy weapon unit shot through their own in the desperate attempt to stop the Rhino. The human bodies haven't obstructed the charges, which made a hole in the dozer blade. Finally, the carrier has been stopped! The back hatch and the side one opened, releasing the marines. Titus was waiting for this - he shot his pistol, and one traitor fell down, the one who jumped over the body was shot by the hunchback, but survived and leapt on the survived guardsmen with a chain-sword and a pistol. Two more black giants were hacking through soldiers to the cannon crews. One against three, Titus chose the distant fight and was waiting for his gun to cool down. Tapio was firing at the single traitor, demolishing the remnants of their right flank, but in vain so far - the marine moved fast, too fast, grimly noted Titus. It seemed the fate showed him his next opponent. A powerful charge passed him by - a poor shot of the cannon almost decapitated him, it meant that the left flank would fall soon.
- Tapio, look after the two on the left! - Titus ran to the raging marine.
The traitor was swinging the whirring sword at the nearest guardsmen, firing his pistol at those, who stayed at the distant. Humans were bravely fighting for their lives, but could do nothing: the scorched marine with all his look laughed at their fruitless attempts to stop him. Titus missed this feeling of practical invincibility. But he remembered well how deceiving this feeling was. The chainsword stuck in the soldier, gnawing out half of his guts, and the traitor turned back to the guardsmen, reloading his pistol. That was it - Titus pushed the trigger. The Legionary dodged the charge, clipped the magazine, shot few times at the guardsmen, pulled out his glistening sword from the corpse and charged him with the roar. Titus has already drawn his power weapon and ran towards. The enemy tripped from the shot in the chest, the wounded palm dropped the pistol - Tapio hasn't changed his target. He slashed across the enemy with his sword, and the traitor jumped back, dodging the power blade. Fangs of the sword scratched the helmet, and Titus tried to cut the chainsword, but the rival pull the weapon away, kicking him in the shin - the ceramite cracked, the bone withstood, and Titus fell face down. The Astartes swung his blade blindly and gasped, when the back-breaking weight pressed him into the sand - his opponent jumped on him. Titus wriggled, and to his surprise the pressure gone. He jumped to his feet wielding the sword around - the enemy laid dead, a hole in the place of the eye identified the marksman.
- I owe you, Tapio, - The Astartes confirmed his debt to the human, whose skill and self-control saved him.
- One more to the left, - simply replied the sniper.
- To the left! - he screamed to the survivors, - avenge your fallen!
The shocked humans ran to rescue their comrades, who were in danger. Those guardians killed one marine, but the second was cutting his way through the terrified soldiers, covered with human blood. Titus led the reinforcement, holding the plasma-pistol. Tapio stayed behind, waiting for the clear shot. Another ally hasn't bothered with such delicacy: a bright blue lighting hit the traitor, touching couple guardsmen by the way. They fell down, where the light touched them the flesh have turned into the crumbling matter. The Legionary survived the second lighting too, but knelt on one knee, half of his body was immobilized. Titus was an example of how dangerous a single-handed Astartes could be, so his plasma charge joined the las-beans, burning up the traitor from the safe distant. After the disembarkation, the Valkyries disappeared in the sky, now the majority of them would be empty.
- Forward! - ordered the servo-skull around the Mechanicus, surrounded with servitors, pointed with his staff at the assumed position of their forces.
- Let's go, men! - a survived officer or just some initiative man, collected a couple dozens of the guardsmen and took the command. The soldiers trotted among the burned carriers to the next battle scene, leaving this one behind.
- Assist inquisitor, - creaked the Martian in the vox. The priest himself was smoking over the dead traitor with the flail-censer. One servitor stood next to him holding the flamer ready: a medium size balloon was strapped to its bareback; no trace of hoses, they must have run under the skin of the automata. Second serf stood crunched under the long intricate weapon, literally put into its back: no trapes or case - the form of the torso, covered in faded red, replicated the form of the riffle. The face was dead and totally useless, the automata was a gun-carrier and nothing more. From the elbows the hands were metallic and held a box, probably the battery for that blue lightings.
- Let's go! - Tapio called him, clumsily running after the guardsmen.

- Distract it then! You've been kept alive for this! - Sebastian changed the channel, - Mechanicus, assist Titus with that tank. Tapio, cover them! - the flyer darted sideways, turning around the axis, the mag-locked boots kept him sit tight, while the humans around dangled for a moment, bent over their belts. - Keep me alive, servitor!
- I will, master, - with soulless confidence replied the robed pilot. He wished he had the same attitude. The Emperor, help me!
- The black ships are fleeing! - the joyful report finally came in a minute.
- Fighters, chase them! Squadrons one and two, disembarkation on the north-east, form a battle line! Squadrons three and four, on the south-west!
He received the confirmation of officers, noticing new voices - the Red Champions' chain of command worked well in the battle. He fought the temptation to fly straightly to Agnant, leaving the traitor marines to the armoured column to deal with. But having such force behind, when they would more likely face the cursed ritual in the settlement - was like deliberately put one's heads in the daemon's mouth. The land battle was inevitable, however bloody it would be.
- Five seconds, master!
- Four seconds! - he unfastened the belt and stood up, - get ready!
The guardsmen filled the corridor, ready to disembark, as soon as the hatchet got open. His own shuttle wasn't that good for such operations, but its maneuverability increased his chances to get to the enemy. The flyers bumped the sand and the soldiers jumped out.
- For the Emperor! - Sebastian encouraged them, eager to see with his own eyes how many allies he left with, but his life was much more precious for the Emperor's plan and he must cherish it, letting others to screen him from the bullets. And the bullets there were. The inquisitor jumped out after the last guardsman and the flyer took off. Few squads have already landed and were forming a gunline under the fire - the Rhino, leaving the fallen flyers behind, was racing towards them facing sporadic fire. Too few cannoneers have landed yet. The rune "J" indicated that the acolyte was close.
- Jacob! Hold your craft on the land, I'm going to you!
- Yes, mentor! - the heir of Obrecht family answered swiftly. The inquisitor ran to the grounded empty carrier.
- Show the guardsmen, that they are not alone, Jacob! - Sebastian sent his pupil away and stepped inside the vessel.
He went out in few seconds and joined the soldiers. The Valkyrie took off - that might slow down the approaching Rhino to give the humans time to gather enough firepower.
- Let them come and see their doom! - Sebastian inspired the guardsmen, walking behind their lines, holding his glowing mace as a beacon for the newly-landed soldiers. And as a screaming invitation to shoot him. But the enemy was practical, and the shooter atop the vehicle sent the bolts at the cannoneers, who, unlike himself, had no relic to protect them. Only faith, which have been tested today as probably never before in their short lives. - Don't fear death, for you will join His light dying for Him, killing for Him! Stand in your brother's place, as yourself will be replaced, knowing, that there is no end of brave men across the Imperium. Mankind prevails! For the Emperor!
- The Emperor protects! - screamed hundred throats, few of which had been torn open by the end of the battle cry. The black vehicle got closer, if it would come here and let the marines out, the operation might end. The rest of the regiment would come and chase away the small invaders, but without him the ritual would be completed. Sebastian was sure, that there was the ritual, otherwise, the infamous Black Legion wouldn't openly attack the superior Imperial forces, risking their cursed lives. That damned shooter though, cherished his existence: a mounted bolter became a turret, totally surrounded with thick plates, so far impenetrable for the humans' guns. Something red flew above the humans' heads and dived into the Rhino. The noise of crush must be deafening, if the low flight wouldn't have already plugged the ears. The pilot tried to hit the front side of the vehicle, to jam the tracks and damage the viewing points. But the driver saw the suicide move and hit the brake. The Valkyrie's bow pecked the sand, but the death of the forced martyr wasn't fruitless - the wing of the flyer cut off the bolter along with the visible half of the shooter. The God-Emperor, embrace his soul.
- Stop this transport, don't let them drive away! - he wanted to run to the vehicle and to crush it with the mace and his hatred - they were losing the precious time here. But who knows, how many marines were inside? The enemy, however, wasn't going anyway. A new wave of death ran through the guardsmen's line - the traitors were using the crushed flyer and their own transport as the cover and opened fire from the distant. Their hand weapons were as dangerous for the humans, as the destroyed mounted one.
- Forwards! Chase them out of the cover! Cannon crews, keep firing! - Sebastian commanded and the officers repeated his order, forcing the guardsmen to advance. Human shield - the Imperium always relied on it. The blood of brave ones was the best protection mankind had. He put the palm on Jacob's shoulder, - from the left! - and raced to the right.
Sebastian ran behind the las-cannon crews, avoiding the random shot in the back and headed to the protected marines, who were successfully filling the sand with the dead guardsmen. He saw bright rays of cannons - they could kill their own as far as the traitors got shot. The gun fight was short and fierce, he sensed how guardsmen' courage flinched from the losses and presumably unharmed enemy.
- Fight for your lives! Fight for the Emperor! - the loudspeaker transmitted his call over the banging of the enemy's bolters - damn, those things were roaring. He didn't hear the answer of the guardsmen - a hit in the chest knocked him down on the back. The bolt hasn't pierced the plate and exploded outside the armour. Sebastian grabbed the mace, stood up and ran further - no fire would stop him, he was His punishing hand!
The inquisitor darted to the enemy's position, highlighted with las-fire. The first traitor he saw was a dead one - a cannon burned him through, probably it was the very one who shot him. The next black marine crouched behind the hull of the Valkyrie, reloading his bolter and surrounded with unending rain of las-beans - the guardsmen knew his position and wasn't going to let him slip away. Sebastian touched the mind of the traitor with disgust, it was like putting out a filthy insect out of one's mouth, slowing down the marine. The inquisitor spared his powers, saving it for the main fight, and didn't attempt to burn it. The black giant resembled a parasite drown in resin. The armoured hand didn't get to rise the mighty bolter high enough, held down by invisible threads, when the power mace smashed the helmet. The las-fire rain ceased around him, and Sebastian darted to the Rhino and with a big swing crushed the track. The hatchet on his side was closed and he leapt to the back entrance, looking inside with his bolt-pistol: the passenger's compartment was empty, the Astartes size vehicle looked out of proportion to him. Was there anyone in the cock-pit? The reek of the Chaos blocked his senses, the machine itself and its spirit were corrupted. Sebastian checked the other side of the vehicle: Jacob and the guardsmen were shooting the single dead marine on the land, taken the rage out.
- Acolyte! - he called the man, hitting the tracks on this side. - Cover me!
Sebastian came aboard and stroke the door to the cockpit, using his mace as a ram. After the second hit the barrier fell down, pursued by Jacob's shots. But no one emerged. The inquisitor looked inside the crumpled compartment, winching inside the helmet - the rotten servitor was built in the steering panel. Eyeless skull with black teeth spun half a circle to face him; one eye socket glowed purple, a tiny single horn stuck out the temple. Sebastian destroyed the abomination and went out.
- Stayed out of the vehicle! Officers, divide the guardsmen to squads, we are going on! This battle field is ours! - "ours grave", - was more suitable words. The soldiers answered with quiet choir, staring at the horrorful enemies and comprehending their survival. Few officers barked orders, trying their best to sound confident.
The inquisitor summoned the Valkyries. The Mechanicus reported about the fight against the other half of the traitors' force. The losses were dramatic, if Agnant had a garrison of the same force - they were doomed. If they would wait for the column, they were doomed either. His prediction has been partly confirmed, it was to be hoped that he also correctly estimated the enemy's men power.
The Valkyries took off and the tattered vanguard continued its journey.
- Major Gobryas! Proceed your movement according to the plan, do not slow down on the battlefield! - Sebastian used this time to keep up with the situation on Abderra. - Colonel?!
- The black ships left the atmosphere, fighters are coming to Agnant to cover you in case of their return, - replied Arbaku, - the settlements Ronese and Oderz are under attack.
- Vice-admiral?!
- The bombardment of Oderz is starting in three minutes, my lord, - Monck answered swiftly, the communication station worked well, - after that, Branitel will be able to destroy Ronese in approximately seven minutes.
- Colonel, put the second third of the regiment to a position between those two settlements. If the bombardment fails in the similar way, send the half, do you read, the half of the force to one or each of those!
- The half of that third, copy that my lord.
- And fast transports first, the speed is essential! Let the Emperor helps you!
Two more, and how many would be there? Abderra is the low-populated world, and the summoning of the daemons required many sacrifices, so Sebastian expected two options: either the traitors would attack Abderra Prime or several of the biggest mining settlements. He believed the enemy had not much forces. The inquisitor predicted this from the goal itself, if the traitors had a big warband, why would they have picked Abderra when there was a hive-world in the same system. Of course, there was a real possibility, that the sand planet has been chosen for other twisted reasons and they all have already been doomed. But those were thoughts of the weak and the weakness is a sin. The galaxy belonged to mankind and mankind must pay with blood for keeping it that way. There was no other option.

- We are approaching Agnant, my lord! Should we scout the settlement? - the Fighters' squadron's leader received his permission and reported a minute later, - the mines' entrance is blocked by an explosion, no sign of the enemy, my lord, the living area is clear, except for the roofs: civilians were spotted there.
Sebastian ordered the Fighters to circle above the settlement and declared the landing at the town-hall. He has received the plan of Agnant and now, after the undisturbed grounding, saw for himself the unfortunate colony. Two enormous semi-circle living blocks resembled ones from now perished Orson, but stood closer to each other, leaving the Administratum building with the giant statues atop opened to the desert's winds. The sculpture of the Emperor, according to the local tradition in the image of an archaic miner with the pick-axe in the raised hand, stood headless, the divine face, crowned with a wreath, laid next to the structure, stroke down by a neat explosion.
- Mentor, - Pison called him. The acolyte was ordered to stay out of the previous fight, but now his gift was needed.
- Witchcraft, - he felt it too. The stink of the cursed mingling with the warp, pulling the vile spirits to this reality, nourishing them with the humans' blood and souls. The inquisitor turned on the common channel of the tattered vanguard, - take the town-hall! The enemy inside, the Emperor guides you, warriors!
The officers pushed the men forwards, surrounding the Administratum building. The cannoneers pointed their guns at three high arc-like entrances - narrow clefts in the rock of dark rockcrete. Tapio stood next to them, looking at the living blocks through his powerful optic.
- They are afraid, master, - the sniper lisped with that new "jaw" of him, - and it's not the blocked mines. I say, something chased them to the roof out of their compartments.
- We are late, - Sebastian didn't hear the hunchback - he has felt it already. The inquisitor screamed, - now! Storm!
The las-cannons pierced the gates, but it wasn't the fastest way to get in. Sebastian ordered the cannoneers to leave the leftmost gates to him and smashed it with his mace. After the third hit, the break was big enough. The soldiers darted inside, led by the officer with a power sword.
- The rest of you go through the other gates! - barked Sebastian. The corridors were very narrow anyway for all of them and he had no time to break the rest doors. He came in, acolytes and Titus followed him.

He was running through empty corridors. Dead clerks don't count. They were killed in close combat - the enemy spared ammunition. The psyker and his crew were running ahead of him, forcing him to stay in the rearguard, since the crumped passages left no place for the Astartes to bypass them. Titus felt, that he was left alone, the inquisitor's grip on his mind gone. But there Sebastian was, the grey power armour and the glowing mace, hurrying half step ahead, most likely running to his death. And here he was, Titus Livius of the 16th, following him because of what? Fear for his life? Right now, it was definitely a safer option to escape and risk the psyker's punishment. The corridor ahead got filled with the familiar sound of weak flesh being torn to pieces by bolts. Titus looked back - a space marine in the black armour stood still, holding a chainsword on the shoulder. The screams and firing continued behind him, but he was staring at his opponent, who slowly stepped forward and froze - the inquisitor stood at Titus' back.
- Deal with him, Titus, - Sebastian darted in the side room, shadowed by Pison, in a moment came the sound of a wall being demolished. Something touched his back.
- I'll cover your back, if you do mine, - Jacob spoke out loud, trying to look spry and confident, but he was deadly serious and focused. The heavy steps of another enemy left no other option to the proud heir of the Obrechts. If he at all had any option but death.
- I'll try, - promised Titus and the warriors' backs parted.
He darted on the traitor, as always in critical fights, the world squeezed to the size of the enemy alone. Titus slowed down himself in case his origin was unknown to the marine, who stood in position and activated the chainsword. They both were trying to deceive each other - defensive behavior wasn't in the nature of the Sons of Horus and therefore in the Black Legion's. The enemy acted first - the running teeth raced out towards his face, the armour strengthened letting him show his true speed - Titus blocked the roaring sword with his blade, damaging the ancient weapon. He didn't get to strike the traitor, because the black gauntlet clasped his wrist and the second fist hit him hard in the head, cracking again the long-suffering helmet. Damned second hands! The traitor bent Titus' arm, forcing him to drop the sword - the black suite was much stronger than his own. A kick in the torso pushed him backwards. No human back stopped his fall - there were no sigh of Jacob and second marine. A distant shooting didn't necessarily mean the gunfight between the dressed-up acolyte and his enemy. The traitor stepped over the power sword and drew a knife. Titus stood up and produced the combat blade - an exact copy of the one in the black gauntlet. Has his opponent also used his own for ten millennia?
- You are the space marine, young "brother", - the Legionary spat the last word with hatred, accumulated over the centuries, - how do you like being a dog of the corpse? You know nothing of the Imperium you serve so blindly. But losing your arm you also lost the chance to see the truth - there is no place for weak in our ranks.
- I'm rather a lone wolf, brother, - Titus answered in Chthonian.
- Traitor! - the Legionary leapt on him, striking with his knife and fist alike. Titus parried the blade and received heavy punches. The enemy roared in frenzy, the knives clenched, and the left arm grabbed Titus' palm, twisting the fingers, disarming him. - You have no right to wield this weapon, sold out worm!
He unclenched the fist and jumped back, letting the enemy's blade cut the breast. The Black Legionary lost his head and lost the battle. Titus grabbed the pistol on his thigh and shot it without rising - the left thigh along with the big part of the enemy's body disappeared from the plasma charge. A blade glanced off his helmet - the last attack of the fallen marine.
- You won, - the beaten opponent calmly admitted his defeat and asked in Cthonian - who are you? Where have you become an Astartes?
- I am Titus Livius, legionary of the Luna Wolves, - Titus looked down through the helmet bent by the marine's fists. - I am Terran.
- Your bunch never were his real sons, - the lenses were pointed at the celling, - Titus Livius, I don't remember that name. You were nobody.
- I was a legionary, and I stayed one. Do you remember our old battle cry? - now the rage took him, - I have no one living to kill for, - he picked up the power sword, the faces of the fallen brothers stood in his eyes. Those who died in better times, and those who perished in the schism, being betrayed or deceived, - but I have plenty of dead.
- My name is Ongaemon, make sure it isn't on your list, traitor, - Titus cut off the head, leaving a deep groove on the floor.
He sheathed the sword and stepped to the knives, as the fate has willed, they laid close. The weapons might look identical, but Titus knew his knife. Picking it up, he glanced at the decapitated marine. Ongaemon, a decent enemy. Yes, without his legion and a war to wage he fought for survival. Survival not through hiding under a rock, but trough beating the worst the fate could send against him. Without brothers, armour and now without the arm he was still the legionary - the mightiest warrior in the galaxy. And every time he survived, leaving such Ongaemons laying behind, he proved it again and again. Behind the corner in this very corridor the death might wait for him, and he was ready to go. But not without a fight.

Titus left him alone to face the enemy, that butchered the guardsmen and chased away the mentor with Pison. Jacob ran after his master in the same room and through the hole in the wall. "Stop him", - said the master and he heard: "stall him with your life". The man with Obrechts' blood obeyed his orders - attacking a space marine in front would be a suicide which stall no one. The cracked floor from the heavy steps of the running inquisitor - they came this way, so he went in the opposite direction. Let the traitor search for him. Jacob squeezed in one of crumped rooms, cautiously stepping over the cut open clerk, making sure that his temporary prothesis hadn't stepped in crusted gore - what a joke he would be, hiding in ambush with blood tracks pointing at him. The piece of iron! No wonder Luisa chose the death, walking around on this thing. The Emperor, forgive me for mentioning the martyr with lack of veneration. She was the outstanding warrior, but he never got her obsession with the death. Jacob hated His enemies no less than she did, and wanted to destroy them in the name of the Emperor and for the sake of his family. The Obrechts are famous and proud warriors, whose members were always on the front lines of the Imperium's wars. And the name Jacob would take its share of glory. Going into the Holy Inquisition was a bold move. Some said even impossible. There was nothing impossible for the righteous one with a bit of luck. Though he had to admit, that his fortune has been looking the other way recently, the Emperor, shed light on me today. The tight compartment wasn't the best arena for his long sword, so he would rely on his pistols. There were two lockers filled with chancery stuff, the smaller one stood closer to him, and the bigger almost at the opposite wall, probably covering a working station. Jacob hid behind the small one, holding both guns at his face - gems in the rings glowed. He loved jewels for it glowed everywhere: in the dull hole of some poor Administratum menial, who was lying dead at the threshold; in the darkness of a coven, hidden from the Emperor's light; a sun may be stolen, a planet may be pulled in the madness of the warp, daemons would walk around and still - the gems would glow nevertheless as a soul of a righteous man. Jacob wanted to have such soul, and as his father told him, the true Obrecht gets what he wants. He calmed his heart down and prepared to meet the enemy. The traitor marine saw him and must follow, or try to catch the mentor. He also might assist his fellow renegade to kill Titus first and then come together after the rest of them. Let them come - he carried two pistols. Without sound of steps or any other sign, the wall behind him burst to pieces, filling the room with chips and dust. Jacob jumped sideways, leaving the shredded shelfs behind. The second locker hasn't separate him from the enemy for long - it got pushed down, and the black giant's bolter thundered in the empty room. Jacob had already left it, tumbling over the dead clerk, not caring if he stepped in the blood - this opponent would find him anyway. The acolyte ran over the corner and stopped next to a path in some room, pointing his pistols at the corridor. He heard the steps of the confident enemy and then a big dark figure emerged round the corner, spitting fire. Jacob shot back and jumped inside the compartment. Looked like his luck came back - one pistol was destroyed by a bolt, which likely could severe his arm. He tossed it aside, mag-locked the other back to its place and drew the sword. The human had just activated it, when the shadow of the Astartes touched the threshold. Jacob used the long sword as a spear, putting it through the wall, next to the doorway. The crackling blade pierced the thin rockcrete. He didn't try to retrieve the weapon and let go the handle, darting in the corridor, rising the pistol, which he didn't get to use - Jacob and the traitor clashed at the threshold. The impact almost knocked him down, but the main treat was the mighty bolter in the traitor's hands. The acolyte dropped his gun and clung to the enemy's one, spreading the legs and pushing with all his weight. However strong he was and despite the power armor, the marine swung his weapon, taking him off the feet and crushing into the wall first and then tossing away in the corridor. A bolt torn his bright buffed shoulder, glancing off the ceramite under the fabric. A quiet click cracked in the silence. The enemy slightly twisted the bolter, while Jacob came back on his feet. The moustache moved with the grin - his pistols and the enemy's bolter are the same thing in general, so he managed to pull out the magazine, while the giant was swinging him as a cape. The marine must have spare bolts in one of those pouches. Would he manage to escape while the enemy reloading that cannon? But the traitor put the bolter aside and drew a power sword, stepping to him. Jacob grinned wider.
- Blood and honor! - he charged the marine fearlessly. Short thick blades were squeezed between his fingers - a couple of push daggers, previously hidden in the cuffs.
A glowing sword came at him from the left and Jacob jumped close to the Astartes, feeling how strengthened the servo-muscles on his good leg, pushing him away from the death. A black first met him and knocked down. Hardly touching the floor, the man rolled from the blade and stood up pushing off with the wrists and turning to the enemy, hitting the air blindly - the marine stepped back. The next moment pain bit his left shoulder, but since he got hit in the middle of his own attack, the lower part of the sword stuck in him - Jacob stub the wrist with his knife, leaving it inside and jumping back from the fist, gritting teeth with pain. He took the left knife in his right hand and darted on the marine, whose wrist was mutilated with the small thorn, and landed behind him sent there by the slap.
- Thank You! - Jacob gasped with gratitude and grabbed the pistol, the lucky punch tossed him to.
He turned around and the opponents stared at each other. The lying human stretched out the hand with the gun, and the towering Astartes stood with the glowing sword in the left. The blade raced to him and the lenses exploded. The muzzled shook and smoked, when the marine fell down on him, sending new wave of pain in the wounded shoulder. Wave of pain - what a pleasant feeling! He was alive! He has met an Astartes in combat face to face and won. Jacob fought countless slaves of the Ruinous powers, possessed and even materialized spirits, but this fight he would brag about to his siblings.

He felt the source of the dark energy, a pulsing spring, pumping the warp contagion into this space. Soon, the settlement will be swallowed by the Empyrean. Those space marines they met got a mental protection over their minds, impenetrable for the mentor - the responsible for this ritual sorcerer was not only powerful but also proficient. And only he covered the master's back. The muscles felt young and elastic, with the support of his power suite he moved lightly and swiftly. But the fake youth didn't deceive himself. Pison knew he was not a warrior. Of course, he was not a coward either, but his prowess laid far from fighting in the first rows. When they meet other marine-bodyguards he would die, giving the mentor a moment or two to counterattack. This operation was the most difficult, he has ever taken part in, and the death from the traitors' bolt or knife seemed expected. The young face of the old man smiled faintly inside the helmet: it was amusing not to die from one's gift. The distant past was faded and obscured. The childhood and parents, whom he has outlived by over a century, the terrifying Black ship and more terrifying school, and then years in the Astra Militarum using his powers roughly, not knowing its real purpose till his road crossed with the inquisitor's. Before that and ever after Pison was sure he would die from his psyching abilities. He only asked the God-Emperor not to cause more deaths, when his time would come. Pison castigated himself - thoughts of death are for leisure. He focused and ran after Sebastian, wishing to save the people and punish the filthy witch. At least, to punish the traitors.

The inquisitor led him, though he felt the route himself and anticipated the turns. They were getting closer.
- Be ready, - the vox warned him calmly.
- The Emperor is with us, master, - the acolyte answered confidently. Now, when the fight would start soon, he really felt that. It was a peaceful rage - a strange mix of readiness to kill and die at the same time. If Pison let himself be overmastered by this feeling, he would look at himself from the outside, almost disinterestedly watching the grey figure. But he focused, and watched through his own lenses how the mentor opened up the heavy doors decorated slightly more, than other entrances they have passed.
The inquisitor rammed the door with his shoulder, raising the mace. Pison darted after him and went sideways, rising his las-pistol. It was a temple: fake stained glass ran across the dome; the giant aquila hanged on the opposite wall, establishing the supreme authority of the Imperium over the small mining colony; a modest altar with some object atop stood below the symbol of united mankind, surrounded with two statues of double human height. He saw no narrative of intricate glass neither the sacred thing on the altar or details of the statues - Pison's eyes were locked to the black figure motionlessly sitting on the floor, in few steps before the shrine. The acolyte fired his pistol, knowing for sure it would be fruitless, since his mental attack has failed completely - the enemy was surrounded with a powerful field. The mentor brought down the mace, and the cracking globe glanced off the invisible protection, making the inquisitor stumbling back.
- Save the charge, - Pison let the trigger go, but didn't take the pistol away.
The inquisitor hit the barrier one more time, the marine twitched a little, but that was all. The Mentor leant on the weapon and Pison felt, how master Silver used his powers, trying to cut the vile tendrils the sorcerer in trance was spreading out.
- No use! - the inquisitor said with irritation stepping back, - we shall wait for the Mechanicus.
The minute lasted long. He kept the traitor under the gun and didn't take his eyes away from the sorcerer, waiting for the barrier fail for a moment. The wall to their right exploded, letting the Mechanicus and few guardsmen in. The soldiers were alive and intact - the marines left no wounded. And the look of the techno-priest proved that they have met them on the way: the censer gone, the sleeve was tattered and seemed empty; the robe was torn in many pieces, reveling the scratched metallic body; the bio half of the face gone, scorched to the charred nothing; the hoses were gone too, but looked like the priest could function without it, at least for some time. The Martian put his staff in the floor and took the riffle off the servitor's back, who humbly awaited behind the humans. Spoken directly with the inquisitor, the engineseer didn't waste the time firing at the protected sorcerer. Instead, the bright blue lighting hit the holy symbol, and the spreading wings fell down, crushing the statues, the altar and the traitor marine alike.
- Fire! - screamed the mentor, rising the mace. Pison and the guardsmen shot the glimmering sphere, surrounding the black giant and protecting him from the pressing mass of one wing. That hit the traitor felt, for he shrugged and turned his lenses on them. The acolyte got his mental protection up, but the sorcerer only took a look at the emerged enemies. The marine got out of the wreck. The fearful enemy crawling on his fours like a baby, that could be a funny scene, if Pison wouldn't participate in it for himself. There was nothing funny in the way the las-beans disappeared in the air around the traitor, who now was standing tall in all his might. The field also prevented the marine from attacking the Emperor's servants. The mentor with the priest were waiting for the screen be gone to strike, while the acolyte and soldiers kept firing in irritatingly calm enemy. The Astartes drew a curved blade and a bolt-pistol from a holster on this thigh and turned to the mentor. The blue light surrounded him and when it gone, Pison finally saw fresh scorches on the black ceramite. That decided the way of battle, the marine suddenly turned and leapt on the priest and the soldiers. The inquisitor darted after him and the acolyte kept firing, preparing for a mental strike. Pison saw, how the guardsmen bravely charged the giant, giving the priest a moment to drop his gun and grab the stuff. The soldiers were pushed away by invisible force, they didn't even scream. Seeing this, Pison "put claws" into the traitor's mind, but its defense was too thick for his fast attack and the marine freely shot the Martian, chipping the chest, since the engineseer saw it coming and covered the head with his hand. The sorcerer put his dagger in the metallic arm, shooting blindly back, but those bolts only hit the wall behind Pison, while the mentor swung his mace, trying to smash the stretched-out hand. The marine turned on his heels, putting away his left hand with the gun and pulling out the dagger, slashing the air in front of the inquisitor's face. Master Silver escaped the lethal strike and has raised the mace already, - Pison was running to assist, and saw everything well, - the sorcerer was a potent psyker, but being the Astartes, he also was a peerless fighter. The giant jumped back, not only dodging the heavy blows, but also knocking down the priest with his power backpack. The artificial body of the Martian weighted a lot, and that he fell down so easily, meant the engine-seer received much damage. Was he even alive? Pison shot the traitor, whose bolter thundered once more - the mentor jumped up from the hit, but finished his attack. The mace would have smashed the marine's head if the traitor didn't catch the handle with both hands, losing his weapons.
- Now! - the inquisitor screamed mentally, but the acolyte has already joined the attack on the sorcerer's mind. Together, their consciousnesses were like wriggling snakes moving with the speed of light, looking for a soft spot to bite. The marine kicked down the mentor, simultaneously suppressing Silver's attempt. But Pison did it - he pierced the mind of the enemy, feeling how unspeakably rotten and dark it was. His own consciousness began to drown in the void, into which the brain of the traitor has turned, but he did his part. The mace dropped from the shaking hands, and the mentor left the enemy no chance to recover. The inquisitor picked up his weapon and hit the traitor from below - the glowing sphere smashed the lower part of the marine, knocking him on the back. The reverse strike crushed the breast. With the final blow Silver vaporized the head. He looked at the mentor with no joy. They both knew, that stopped the sorcerer too late.
- This is just the beginning, Pison, - said the inquisitor, touching the hole in his armour around the stomach and turning to the laying priest.

The third gates finally fell too and the soldiers disappeared inside, led by the last officers. Tapio left outside, with the las-cannons crews and one more man.
- Hold your position, the enemy may show up any second, - the man was walking confidently between the crunched guardsmen. He wore the same red uniform but somehow was an outcast. The hunchback felt it, being the same.
- But these civilians on the roofs, sir, - said one soldier, squinting in the field glasses, - what are they doing there?
- I'd kick this thing out of your hands, private! - barked the commissar, suddenly turning to the speaker, -but it belongs to the regiment. I'd kick your big mouth too, but it is also the property of the 24th! Shut your hole and stay focused on your goal - guard the gates. The attack may become a defense any second!
- Yes, sir! - loudly answered the soldier, staring at the empty entrance with exaggerative attentiveness.
- We are led by the Holy Inquisition, men! - continued the political officer, - the best agents of the Emperor himself are guiding us today. And if the inquisitor let the civilians alone, then there is more urgent thing to do. Is it clear, boys?!
- Yes, sir! - the choir screamed back. Tapio felt several glances at him, probably, these Abderrans were wondering, whether all best agents looked so shabby as the crooked sniper with a metal thing for a face.
He has served enough time under the command of the inquisitor to ignore pleas for help and people in danger. You can't save everybody, the Emperor is his witness, usually they save no one. Hardly punishing the guilty and end the torture of the innocents. Those ones on the roofs still might see the next day, but he wouldn't bet on it. His vox was mute, and the minutes went in silent. Then Tapio prepared. He didn't notice anything, but the sense of danger, sharpen in his way of work, alerted him.
- The God-Emperor, save me from the vile. Don't abandon me in the face of the enemy, so I could destroy it in Your name, - he prayed, looking around through his optic. It served better, than his old eyes. First replacement he got was a dull thing, Tapio saw only silhouettes, good enough to serve, but not to keep the sniper position. By the time of the wound, he had already lost any interest in life outside the army. When the inquisitor took him and organized another operation - the sight came back completely with extra useful options. He saw nothing, but he knew, there were something.
- Commissar, check the pilots' status! Every one of them! - standing still crafts looked like they were hiding a secret.
- So far everyone checked in, sir, - reported the man in the cap, listening to his vox-device, - one vessel is mute, others are alright, - the man whispered to him, coming closer, - should I send a man to look, sir?
- Turn the cannons around! - Tapio raised his riffle, - the aircrafts in the air, now!
- All pilots, take off immediately, I repeat, all Valkyries, in the air! - the commissar obediently delivered the order and barked to the guardsmen, - turn around the guns, boys!
- What's going one, sir? - the puzzled soldiers were executing the order in hurry, while the somber man asked him privately.
- The daemons, - Tapio was short, - they are coming. We will retreat by my order. Till then, fire at will and pray, commissar.
- Yes, sir! - the man saluted him, touching the peak of his cap. "Does he have somebody waiting for him on the other side", - the thought glimpsed in his head. The commissar turned to the soldiers, - warriors of the Emperor! The archly-enemy is coming! Be strong, have faith and fight furiously as any Red Champion does. The Emperor protects!
- The Emperor protects! - the men were scared and confused. How much did they know before the operation began? Doesn't matter, till they meet the evil face to face, all stories and briefings meant nothing. Only the hellfire shows the righteous soul.
A lonely flyer took off, the rest stayed on the ground. The servitor took the inquisitor's vessel up, as soon as received his order. The mindless state saved the pilot.
- They don't respond, sir, - stated commissar, declaring the first victims of this fight. Instead of the answer Tapio pushed the trigger, feeling the familiar recoil, and a jet of something half-blood, half-fire emerged in the air between the cannoneers and the flyers. The sniper saw shapes, shimmering ghosts of unspeakable forms. They crawl, fly and waddle to the humans, attracted to their fear, not in the full state and mostly transparent. Tapio fired again disembodying another spirit.
- The Emperor guides and protects me, for He is the master of the galaxy and mankind, - the sniper started to pray aloud, encouraging the guardsmen, - I am a human being therefore the Emperor protects me and no enemy will ever harm my soul, bathed in His light!
The guardsmen echoed him in quivering voices. They las-beans came through the shadows, doing no harm. The soldiers were terrified and showed lack of faith. In additional, Tapio used bullets, blessed by himself, when no such rituals were performed over the las-cannons. Two shots thundered almost simultaneously: one sent another unborn daemon back to the warp, the other stopped the fleeing soldier.
- Fight! You will bring the disgrace on the whole regiment, cowards! - the commissar screamed and fired his bolt-pistol. This time at the shimmering monsters, despite his fervor, alas, with the same result as his subordinates. And the guardsmen saw it. Tapio heard the steps behind and curses of the officer. They are doomed.
- Retreat in order! - the sniper stepped back, shooting another thing. But the rest of the humans, finally receiving the long-awaited command, rushed to the gates. Seeing the backs of the enemy always inspire the winner, even if the one had no eyes to speak of. The spirits leapt after the guardsmen, feeling their despair, trying to suck in the souls ahead of their kin. He would meet the enemy face to face, again, the fact that the daemons had no faces at all or had too many, didn't matter. - The Emperor is my master! - a shot, - and you have no power over me, vile spirits! - another shot.
His heart stopped for a beat and something gross filled the mouth, next moment he could breathe again - the ghost ran through him.
- His light keeps me clean! The warp will not stain me! - Tapio kept waking firing.
Now he was surrounded with spirits, not strong enough to devour him, but powerful enough to kill the panicked humans. Some were just lying next to the cannons - those, who were brave enough to follow his order. For their courage they have receive a fast death despite the others. Tapio stepped over a man with the ripped-out eyes in his hands. Next to him laid the soldier with empty sockets. Here and there he saw mutilated guardsmen died gruesome way. The stone face of the Emperor frowned on His servants' disgrace. The commissar cap was torn from inside and spotted with brain - the man sent his last bolt in his own hand. Did he succumb to the evil, or rather preferred to end his life before the spirits did it for himself? These scenes didn't flinch his faith and confidence; he saw it with the corner of his sight, all this time firing at the shadows, coming in more numbers and getting more materialized with every step. Now, they were avoiding him, how pests avoid the poison, but in couple minutes or less, the daemons would send him to his family.
- By the name of the Emperor I am banishing you from this world, daemons! - the nearest shadows disappeared, - Tapio, hurry!
He turned back to the next wave of spirits, coming to the town-hall from all sides, and ran inside after Pison. The acolyte was leading him in silence, helping himself holding for the walls. On the first levels of the building he stepped over the cannoneers, who didn't hide from their death inside. The acolyte led him up, till they came out on the roof, at the bottom of the headless statue. The flyer was hovering with the open hatchet and they jumped in, Pison first.
- You are clean, Tapio, - the inquisitor lowered his pistol and disappeared in the cockpit.
He stepped inside the passenger compartment. The mood was low. The Mechanicus was lying motionless on the seats, the human half of his face gone. Pison put off his helmet and the pale face with wet locks was twitching, losing the tension - the acolyte was meditating, recovering his powers. Another pupil sitting bareheaded and looked rather excited.
- We stopped the sorcerer, but the bastard let the daemons in, - Jacob hit the thighs with the gloved firsts, - so we are leaving the poor civilians to these monsters and heading to the next spot of the witchery!
Tapio nodded and sat between the talkative man and mute Titus, who sat still with his helmet on.
- Have left, - before embarking the flyer, he looked at the living blocks - there were no movements.

- Colonel Arbaku! - Sebastian sat behind the servitor, who was flying the craft connecting directly to the panel by several chords. His third shuttle was lost, that servitor-pilot succumbed to the warp, now the contaminated vessel must be destroyed. As well as whole Agnant, after the crack into the warp got closed.
- My lord! - the man replied shortly, but the unasked question floated out the vox.
- Agnant is lost. The treat is eliminated, but the area is closed for anyone. Oderz and Ronese?
- Oderz has been successfully bombarded, inquisitor. With Ronese it is exactly as it was with Agnant. I have already sent forces there. The vanguard will engage the enemy in three minutes, my lord, - and again Arbaku held back the question.
- My crew are the only survivors of the spearhead, colonel. I will send major Gobryas to Ronese. Your men fought well, Arbaku, and killed many enemies.
- We live and die for the Imperium, - answered the man solemnly. - That traitor in Orson has been eliminated.
- Good. The battle is on, colonel, regularly check on scouts in all settlements, - he received the reply and called the fleet, - vice-admiral Monck?
- My lord, - the answer came with a lag. - It was the battle barge. The fleet fought back these traitors. One ship lost in battle and one was boarded and taken away. They are retreating now, presumably to a jump point.
- Well done, vice-admiral. Keep Branitel ready, - he addressed the servitor, who had already taken course to Ronese, - how long will it take?
- Eleven minutes, master.
- Major Gobryas, drive to Ronese. Ronese, do you read?
- Yes, my lord. Turning to Ronese. May I know the fate of Agnant? - a lower officer was more straightforward.
- It's become a forbidden area. The vanguard is gone, major, - Sebastian called his tools, - we will be in Ronese in ten minutes. Imperial forces will be there much sooner, the witchery of the same type is expected. Prepare yourselves.
- My body is in no state to participate in battle, - the techno-priest creaked in the vox, - the emergency transporting to Ataraxis is not needed, inquisitor.
- You will stay on the board, Mechanicus.
- By your command, my lord, - came the late answer from Monck.

Would the portal close when the daemons disappeared? Would it be an ugly scar on the surface of Abderra or non-healing wound? Would that ulcer condemn entire planet to death? And if there would be two? Three?
- Inquisitor! - Arbaku's agitated voice dispelled grim thoughts, - major Agious, the leader of the forces sent to Ronese, he led the vanguard and stopped responding as well as the rest of the storm group.
- Where?
- In few miles to the East of the colony. They reported of no enemy and just went silent, - the colonel hurried to answer the unasked question, - the surveillance squad gone missing right after the confirmation of failed bombardment, my lord.
- Point a new leader to the column, colonel. If I die, and both forces fail to eliminate the treat, do not send more units to Ronese. Do you hear me? Do not send more units, just blockade the settlement, - he would not let the daemons feed loose on the guardsmen, - respond to new treats as before.
- Yes, my lord! - Arbaku replied firmly.
- Come to Ronese from the East, - Sebastian ordered the robed serf.
- The destroyed Valkyries are on the land, master, - the servitor declared in several minutes, when Sebastian saw shapes of living blocks towering in the midst of the desert. - two crafts are approaching from Ronese, master.
- Contact them! - the inquisitor saw two growing dots.
- They are Valkyries and the pilots don't respond, master.
- Consider them as the enemy, - damn it, the flyer had no weapon to speak of and the living cargo that must survive, - loose them and land in the settlement!
- Yes, master, - they suddenly changed the course, - be ready to emergency landing and swift disembarking.
The Valkyries opened fire chasing the nimble flyer, which rolled and dived, getting closer and pulling away from Ronese.
- You'd better go to the exit, master, - said the servitor.
He left the cockpit on shaken legs, depending on the mag-locks in the boots. His crew was ready to leave the flyer, but were they able to win? Pison, glued to the floor, held Tapio, who pressed the riffle to his dirty cloth. Jacob put his right shoulder to Titus and clasped him with one hand, could his left wield the sword? His two main fighters were one-armed. But he had brought them here not from arrogance or blind duty - they still could win. There was a chance the witchery would be stopped in time or at least held back for some time. That would be counted as a win, and that didn't require anyone of them to stay alive afterwards. Sebastian felt their resoluteness, their eagerness to attack. Even the dubious ancient Astartes looked as zealous servant of the Emperor this moment.
- The enemies of mankind will die! - the inquisitor stated convincingly and turned to the hatchet.
- Five seconds, - creaked the servitor through the loud-speaker. The flyer raced down, levelled off and hit the sand.

The psyker jumped out first, then Jacob and he followed him. They disembarked at the corner of a living block - a high rectangular tower. Here it also was an early morning. The flyer was already taking off when Tapio and Pison jumped out of it and the vessel raced off. A laser bean cracked the building and hit the sand next to them - the Valkyries were chasing their shuttle. Sebastian led them along the wall, he and Jacob shot their pistols at the guardsmen, who stood in a loose chain around the living block, turning to them and raising their riffles. There were dead civilians laying around, all killed by las-fire - the Red Champions were obviously controlled by the enemy. He had not much experience with possessed, but those soldiers looked rather charmed: they moved clumsily and slow. So far, no charges came to their direction, but approaching the end of the wall, they saw more soldiers, and spending the bullets on those meant bringing empty magazines to the gun-fight with the real enemy.
- Stop! - the inquisitor pressed to the corner, looking at Ronese. Over his back Titus saw two more enormous square towers and a town-hall right at the middle between all three living blocks. Dozens of turned guardsmen were coming to them from all directions. Soon they would start shooting. - Pison?
- I felt nothing, master. But we should check directly.
- Titus, - Sebastian beckoned him, - find an entrance!
He ran over the corner and raced along the wall, holding his pistol ready, looking for a door. The humans in front of him were dying one by one, shot by the psyker and his men. The Astartes stopped, noticing gates. Titus kicked the door which bent but withstood, he fired at it and the plasma charge burned out an entrance.
- Inside! - commanded the inquisitor and he darted into the building. It was empty, but not for long. - Up, we need to see the residents!
The inquisitor rushed him down the narrow corridor to a small hall with elevator cabins. He looked around and saw the door, leading to the stairs. Titus saw no Jacob and Tapio, who must have been stayed to guard the exit. Followed by both psykers, he went up to the second floor, kicked down the much lighter door and stepped into another corridor, holding the sword ready - if he doesn't die from the first shot, nobody would survive his charge in this tight space. The inquisitor behind him broke into the nearest living compartment. The frighten screams met the psykers in power armours. They didn't call him and he stayed outside, feeling with all his guts that there were no enemies around. The inquisitor and his disciple stayed inside for a minute.
- Only scared people here, - said Sebastian stepping out the apartment, - we are leaving.
Titus ran back, not needing further explanations. Downstairs he heard the noised of a fight, somebody was grunting. It was Tapio: the hunchback was pressed to the wall by a guardsman, who was choking him with the las-gun. The sniper pushed back with his own riffle but was losing. Jacob was close but couldn't help - the acolyte resembled a bright flower having red aphid all over it: four soldiers hanged on him, stubbing with the bayonets at his armour. Several humans piled dead in the corridor and more were visible through the entrance. The charmed soldiers were clumsy, but relentless and reckless. The Astartes darted to Jacob, by the way he pierced the head of the guardsman holding Tapio, the skull in the helmet has hanged for couple moments on the blade before the power field made it drop crumbled. When the sword hit the nearest back, it was already clean. With short blow Titus killed the second soldier and charged the small crowd in front of him, seeing that Jacob could handle the last two on his own. The Astartes slashed through the humans, his blade streaking in front of him, vaporizing blood and staying clean. He came outside wielding the sword - there was a crowd gathered. Titus jumped from one unfortunate guardsman to another, killing and hiding from the las-beans started to fly around.
- In the opposite building! - commanded Sebastian and the squad, his squad, ran cutting through the soldiers. He led and didn't see the others, but heard rare shots of their guns and sounds of carapace armour getting cut by the power sword - the inquisitor's crew took its toll on human blood. But these were enemies and he felt to trace of remorse. To his surprise in the middle of the fight, Titus thought about the entrance he had made in that living block. Did he condemn the civilians inside to death, letting the charmed killers inside? The Astartes shook off this lame thought - war came to Rosene, and when it comes you either fight or die. The soldiers were few, next to nothing compare with the numbers of the tenants of the tower. If they wanted to live, they would survive. They left the crowd behind and now were crossing the open space, to his left he saw a town-hall. The living building was getting closer, it was also surrounded with the sparse line of controlled guardsmen. Those have been swept and Titus ran to the right away from the center of the settlement, looking for an entrance. First doors he blown with his pistol led to nowhere - a deadlock filled with machinery and thick pipes, maintaining the life of the house for many thousands. The next gates led inside. They came in running over dead soldiers, who stood around and now were lying next to their victims.
- We would run through, Titus, let me go first! - the inquisitor raced him over.
Sebastian led them up on one level and at the first turn of a long corridor smashed the wall with the mace. The psyker rammed the holed wall with his shoulder widening it, crossed the cramped compartment and smashed another barrier stepping in the similar room. They were digging through the tower, using the mace and ceramite pauldron for a pick-axe, demolishing cells of terrified humans, and occasionally running along empty corridors. Only twice the tenants were stupid enough to stay in their way, listening to the approaching hum and dying of their own curiosity. Those, who pressed to the opposite walls, scattered away like bugs before the tireless inquisitor, who as the Emperor of local myths cleaning the path in the rockcrete mountain to a goal, unknowable to mere mortals.
- There is an ambush ahead, - Sebastian warned them through the vox crushing another wall, next to a crunching couple with shut eyes, - Jacob you will go from the left, Titus from the right, rest with me. - The psyker smashed two more barriers and then commanded, - now split!
They were in a corridor and Titus darted sideways and with two strikes cut a door open. Though the walls he heard, how the inquisitor kept his job and the Astartes took a run and kicked the opposite wall, sparing his tattered pauldron. The leg pierced the crumbling rockcrete and he got inside the next compartment. This one had a door and he rammed it with the shoulder, knocking it down. The broken metal panel fell on a guardsman - the ambush Sebastian warned them about was set in a tight corridor between two rows of living compartments. Titus decapitated the nearest soldier, who stood back to him, jumped on the broken door, crushing the human underneath and swung his sword in wide arc, killing three more soldiers, who only started to turn to him. He saw the psyker surrounded with thick mob and Jacob, who was cutting his way to his master from the opposite side. Together they cleared the area quickly and Sebastian returned to crushing barriers on their way, starting with the door spotted with blood right opposite to the one he emerged from. Titus ran after feeling that the actual fight would start soon - the enemy could organize those charmed dummies, what his real attack would be? They ran through the rest of the tower unopposed.
- The source of corruption is outside the living area, - Sebastian briefed them through the vox leading them downstairs, - it must be in the mine. We must get there as fast as possible. Tapio, we can't wait for you.
- You won't have to, master, - lisped the hunchback, the only one among the humans who relied on his own muscles. The sniper sounded brisk and confident. He definitely liked that man.
- To battle! For the Emperor! - shouted the inquisitor crushing the last door.
They emerged at the western side of the tower and the long shadow covered them. There were less charmed humans, that he expected, but still too many for their small squad. It would be good if the psykers used their powers on the mob, but the inquisitor was wielding the mace plunging in the guardsmen and Pison ran after his mentor shooting the pistol. So, they had to come through using physical weapons. Titus cut the nearest soldier and jumped to the group of three, dealt with them and stood still rained by the las-beans, covering Tapio and letting him shoot down the nearest enemies. The sniper fired fast, using his long-range riffle as a rapid gun. Heads and breasts exploded around him, thinning out the las-charges. The Astartes saw, how one bullet took three lives, flying through the guardsmen standing on the line.
- With me! - called the inquisitor and they ran after him. So far Tapio didn't break his promise and kept up with him. Jacob ran along, covering the sniper form the other side. The dressed-up warrior kept his long blade in right hand, occasionally firing his pistol in his left. The nearest enemies were killed, but he didn't sheathe the sword, running under the fire, unable to shot back. Have been those puppets normal guardsmen the squad wouldn't have been done, but the hideous end of those humans became a salvation for the inqui. They broke the distance with the charmed mob.
- Valkyries! - yelled Sebastian. There were several transports crushed at the outskirts of Ronese. But the inquisitor meant the two looked intact.
- The servitor, mentor? - asked Jacob through the vox.
- It lost them, - replied Sebastian, - those two can return any moment. Titus, check the nearest Valkyrie!
He ran faster, leaving the squad behind under the sporadic shots from the charmed soldiers. Another structure was visible on the horizon, much smaller than the living towers, but still enormous. This settlement was located further from the mining facilities than Orson - those flyers better be operated. And not mined. The Valkyrie was empty and didn't exploded with him stepping inside.
- Tapio? - asked the inquisitor when the rest of his squad came closer. "His squad". Titus was straight and honest with himself - he enjoyed being a part of a war machine again.
- The optic sees nothing, master - the sniper answered looking over the aircraft and turning back to the clumsily pursuers. After two shots, he produced a magazine out of his loose cloth and reloaded the riffle. How many of those did he have left?
- Jacob, take us to the mine!
- Yes, mentor! - the man eagerly disappeared in the cockpit. The hatchet closed and the Valkyrie took off with a jerk, leaving the charmed guardsmen to harmlessly shoot the hull.

- The easy part is over, - said mag-locked Sebastian clenching and unclenching one palm, holding the mace in another, - praise the Emperor and ask Him not to forsake us hereafter.
The vox channel got silent with the humans started to pray everyone by himself. Titus thanked the Emperor for creating Astartes, making it possible for him to become what he was. That was it. He looked at his companions, who were the captures between fights, but on the battlefield the humans became his brothers. Pison stood still, holding on with both hands. Tapio, the hardy sniper, held the handle and leant on his riffle breathing deeply; for sure his servitor-like face hid the relief, that the aircraft was carrying them now. Jacob ended this short break. They have been flying less than a minute.
- Two Valkyries are going to intercept us!
- Take the lowest altitude, - the inquisitor instantly switched from communication with his god to tactical command, - open the hatchet. How far is the mine?
- A minute, mentor. Hold on! - the vessel reeled sharply. Titus hoped that this time the handle holds him, otherwise he would have to run on his own to the enemy - the vessel spit him out through the opened exit. Sebastian read his worry and cautiously stepped next to him, silently offer him a helping hand in such occasion. The vessel lurched and the engines went silent.
- The left wing has been hit, - hurriedly explained Jacob, - I turned off the right, we will plane for few seconds. The mine is close. - The acolyte stepped in the passenger compartment, trusting the machine spirit to finish their short flight. - We are lucky that these pilots are under the mind control, the wretched bastards shoot poorly.
- We will not depend on their accuracy, - Sebastian stepped to the open hatchet, below which the slowed down red sea promised the rough landing, and jumped out. The acolytes followed their mentor. Titus glanced at Tapio, who stepped forward too, he nodded to the brave man and left the soaring transport. Stopped rolling in the sand he saw how a bright ray pierced the transport putting its soaring to an end. The Valkyrie dived bow down; the open stern stuck out in the empty desert. Behind the wreck the mine facilities towered up. Titus looked in the sky - two flyers were going to attack them, however clouded were the minds of the pilots, one random shot from the cannons would end any of them. And the charmed humans might try to ram them in a suicide attack.
- To the mine! - ordered Sebastian, he and Pison were behind the Astartes. He ran towards, not seeing Jacob and Tapio.
- Damn! - cursed the first.
- What is it?! - they froze and turned back.
- False alarm, excuse me! - the limping figure emerged behind against the approaching Valkyries, - bloody prothesis, for a moment I thought it has broken.
- Tapio? - called Sebastian running again. The sniper didn't reply. From the engines roar Titus got that the flyers were not going to crush them this time and thanked the fate, when three las-rays missed him and the Valkyries raced over his head.
- See him! - the hunchback laid in the sand not far from the shot aircraft, the riffle was next to him, swept over with sand by half.
- He is alive, take him, I'll wake him later, - Sebastian raced by. Titus picked up Tapio and his gun and ran further.
The facility had two blocks. The first and nearest was a relatively low square box, probably covering the entrance in the mine. It had many enormous pipes, some were emitting grey smoke, while others shimmering hot air. The second structure was much higher and broader, it was covered with closed hatchets big enough to let a cargo flyer in. Flashing signal lights covered the mighty tower. The buildings were connected by two broad covered galleries, supported by lean columns, probably, the conveyors with whatever humans dug out here. No signs of alert, looked like the mine was working as usual. He outraced the inquisitor and almost get to the first building, when the noise became too loud. Titus turned around. Both psykers were running side by side, while Jacob lagged a little. And that distant saved him, for one Valkyrie hit the sand right there. The charmed pilot either tried to crush them, or simply lost control.
- I am alright! - spryly yelled Jacob showing over the crushed flyer. The second shot the nearest building and went up shakingly, as the pilot was drunk.
- It reeks Chaos all over here, - Sebastian put his hand on Tapio's head.
- I can't say where is the center of the witchery, mentor, - contritely replied Pison, - if there is one.
- Put me down, Titus, - the optic glowed all the time and he couldn't say when Tapio came back to his senses. Titus put the man down and held out the riffle, - thank you.
- Where to now? - Jacob finally joined them, - the Valkyrie is coming.
A loud squeal silenced the roaring Valkyrie, they turned their heads and saw how a dark thing torn open one gate of the farthest building and emerged in the air.
- Is it a daemon? - Jacob gasped in the vox.
- Not exactly, - mumbled the inquisitor, - get inside!
- This beast knocked down that Kacper's shuttle, - remarked Titus calmly, - its flame devours metal.
- That monster also spit fire?!
He didn't get the Jacob's tone, but the man chose the right word. The new enemy spread wide wings, which may look like leather ones, but were too angular to be made of skin. Short thick neck held a huge head, which open mouth kept screeching. Three pairs of crooked legs ended with a long heavy tail, with the bulging tip soaring after the beast. The monster was covered with dark-grey slime, as some swamp creature. But such behemoth couldn't be a living thing. It darted on the Valkyrie, pushed by glowing turbines hidden on the back. The pilot didn't react to the giant, as if his machine spirit recognized the beast as a friend. A jet of acid pink fire hit the flyer, and the Valkyrie fell down aflame.
While the monster was dealing with the machine, they reached the building and broke in. It was the entrance in the mine. Of course, there were no bottomless pit right behind the threshold, but Imperial slogans urging to produce more oar and killed humans indicated the mine alright. Titus saw enough of them on the Coal Day to know a miner from any other occupation on Abderra. The bottomless pit was right below them, few levels at most, but the inquisitor led them upstairs.
- The beast may guard the sorcerer, we must check that building first, - the psyker declared his decision, - we'll use the conveyors.
They followed Sebastian with resolute silence, nobody asked what to do with the flying monster. The creature would find them by itself and they would kill it. Sometimes they were following in enemy's footsteps, noticing humans that were killed fast, on the run. The traitors ran here the same way they were doing now: racing to their goal, oblivious to the small deaths. But if they win this race, those deaths and many thousands across both planets would be avenged. The inquisitor opened another door and they saw the shaft: an enormous well, taking the most part of the building; Titus saw the opposite side of the structure, galleries and doors around the hole; tangled cables hanged in thick ropes; elevators as giant dippers stood still, but the two conveyor lines rolled with hum, relentlessly taking old dust outside. Several chutes hanged to the ceiling connected the elevators and the tracks, but there must be an easier way to step on conveyors, which were two levels above the squad. The squeal which never ceased got louder and a fragment of a wall next to one transporting line exploded with cursed fire, the scorched pieces of rockcrete fell into the shaft - the beast was looking for them.
- Move! - Sebastian led them back to the ladder.
At the right floor they returned to the shaft and ran towards the conveyor. The wall across the hole was still burning. Now Titus was running first. They came in a room next to the conveyor line and Pison opened a mechanic clock on the door which must led to the track. The metal plate got moved with the squeal and a dim path blew a cloud of heavy dust at them. He ducked and stepped on the rolling line. The conveyor was broad for five average men standing freely and surprisingly high for Titus to stand straight - at least if the beast's head emerged in this closed gallery, he wouldn't hit the celling with his own charging it. The rolling line carrying him up at a slight angle. The Astartes held the plasma pistol, doubting that it alone would do the trick, he glanced back: Jacob was behind, holding his sword with both hands, then at some distant walked Tapio with his riffle down, would his optic see the beast through thin walls of the gallery? Pison has just stepped on the line, so the inquisitor will be the last. But it depended on where would the monster attack. During the Crusade, he hated the time spent aboard transport, those minutes before battle, when some random charge could eliminate entire squad. They all did. Not fear, but pure hate for those shuttles, boarding vessels and other vehicles which rubbed in their faces the truth every warrior knew already - so much depend on a chance. A twist of fate and the heavy weapon unit won't do it to the land, which lead to the heavy losses or the best fencer who would decapitate the enemy's leader and stop the unnecessary bloodshed been shot down with his brothers by some slave who secretly wished death to his master. All these things stay true during the fight too of course, but standing or sitting still in the tight compartment make one to remember and muse on it. And now he was being carried by a slow conveyor, like a lump of ore, stuck not only in a tight space but also very fragile: one charge and those lean columns would disappear dragging him with it, or at the end of the line could wait a single Legionary with a bolter or a flamer. The inquisitor was rushing; they shouldn't have jumped in this trap so eagerly. This time without a warning squeal the pink fire cut the path in several steps in front of him.
- Kill it! - urged Sebastian in the vox, - no creature of the Chaos filth will stop His righteous warriors!
Titus ran on the stopped conveyor feeling no righteousness but boiling rage - the same beast could have already killed him once, by chance picking another shuttle on Pheres, and now it challenging him again. The Astartes saw the bright morning sky between the dancing hellfire and jumped over the gap. He ran further, sensing the menace above. The ceiling was being cut open as a tin can and Titus dropped to the floor, letting the spikey tail swung above him. The passage behind got illuminated with a new attack of the monster. He stood up, stepping into the gross slime brought in by the beast. The Astartes widened the cut in the ceiling with his sword and climbed outside. The wind hit him, but even without proper armour he was not a person to push around. Titus stood in the lower third of the conveyor line, other enemies didn't show themselves, but that monster was more than enough for now. The flying behemoth was hideous up close and was pouring the fire at the gallery.
- Die! - he pushed the trigger, sincerely wishing that no one from his strange squad perished in the bright jet. The charge hit the open mouth, but disappeared harmlessly in the filthy vomit. Too soon, next time he would wait. Titus turned and ran, leading the monster from the rest of them and giving the pistol time to cool. The sound of engine came to him, he mag-locked the gun and jumped to the edge of the roof and threw himself off the gallery, grapping the edge with his palm trusting the construction to hold him. The noise of metal being sliced ceased and Titus pulled himself back - the tail left a cut in the roof and the beast itself was turning in the air, clumsily waving the wings. Sparks came out the ugly head - Tapio was shooting aptly as always but with no visible outcome. The Astartes fired his gun - some slime got baked, the creature roared, but the next moment it shot back without noticeably discomfort. Titus ran down, and the wide segment of conveyor disappeared - the way to the second building was cut. The other line was too far to jump, they had to retreat. But the humans hadn't given up yet.
- Come here, beast! - Jacob stood on the roof behind holding high the activated sword.
- It has no mind, - Sebastian said in the vox, and Titus saw him below through the crack in the roof. The mace glowed weakly next to the hellfire, - we must kill its body.
It was the big body to kill and the ugly one. The monster spit fire at Jacob and landed heavily before the Astartes, bending the edge of the conveyor. Indeed, it wasn't a living thing to have a mind. The slime-covered snout as big as his body was the most animalistic part of the creature with its bony growths and fangs in the dark maw, two glowing black lights played the role of the eyes. The whole beast reeked of the warp. The short legs were different and all showed the dull metal between the slime, the monster resembled a dirty machine constructed from the scrap. Titus has mag-locked the pistol, but didn't get to draw the sword. He grabbed the handle and activated the sheathed weapon, the glowing blade came out of the scabbard's wrecks and cut into the head. Might be showy, but not effective enough - the snout rammed him in the chest and Titus fell back, holding the sword. A dirty figure in the used to be gray armour jumped over him and smashed the monster in the forehead. The beast squealed, but wasn't going to die. Titus pulled back the inquisitor, when the monster took off using the roaring turbines and the twitching tail hit the roof next to them.
- Mentor! - Jacob emerged between them and the flying beast and cut off the heavy tip. The stump slashed around, chasing them off the belly, which hardly was soft but definitely easier to damage. Screeching monster darted up, pushed by filthy forces of the warp engine and spread the wings. Three warriors stood still for a moment and then ran from the wave of pink fire. The metal roof moaned when the beast landed again and Jacob was first to counter-attack. Titus saw how the long blade glanced off the head, giving way to the mace, which seemed so far, the most potent weapon against the behemoth. He himself darted to the neck from the right, stabbing it with his sword. No blood or other liquid came out, no surprise here. The monster trembled and shook the head darting forwards. He was almost pushed out the roof, the inquisitor was tossed back, experiencing the punch the Astartes received recently. Titus noticed that the monster received his share of beating - one "eye" went out, and the acolyte cut the right wing in flapping pieces of unidentified matter. The acolyte tried to cut the thick neck, but the beast went backwards and prepared to take off. Jacob continued his attack, taking the monster for immobilized since the loosing of one wing, but the creature unlikely used this parody to the real life's device in its unnatural flight. The back twitched, the turbines roared and the monster was above them again. Next moment the pink fire washed over Jacob.
- Run! - screamed Sebastian turning back. Titus didn't argue: in the open air the beast got an upper hand, they've learned it the hard way.
The inquisitor jumped into the gap left by the hell fire and he followed him. The very floor beneath the conveyor line shook with their steps - this section would collapse soon. He saw nor Pison nor Tapio, if they survived and hid from the behemoth they could not harm anyway, that was smart. Titus could call them on the vox, but he was busying imagine possibilities to stop the beast. Would it go blind if he hit the second light on its head? The fire pierced the roof ahead of them and the monster crawled into the gallery filling it with its corrupted flesh surrounded with the pink flames.
- Titus, behind me! - ordered Sebastian and started to chant, - I am His arm holding the shield against the darkness of the galaxy. My faith is impenetrable shield! I am the shield!
In response the monster spat fire, which filled the entire gallery but a little spot around them. The beast squealed angrily and then moaned. The fancy garments gone in fire, the ceramite turned black, only golden chain kept glowing surrounded with the hellfire. And, as Titus guessed, the satisfied smile of Jacob. The man survived the flame and jumped on the beast from the very hole it made piercing the giant head. So, the noise he heard when the fire was ravaging around him were the man's steps.
- Well done, Jacob! - the inquisitor praised his pupil and ran past the dead abomination.
The psyker smashed the floor, separating the damaged segment from the rest of the conveyor, leaving the beast to fall down eventually. Tapio and Pison were waiting them in that room.
- Jacob Obrecht, the dragon slayer! - declared Titus pointing at him and hitting the chest saluting his victory in front of others. Tapio nodded and hit the floor with the rifle butt. Pison bowed with aquila gesture.
- Now, to the second conveyor, - Sebastian ended the premature celebrating, - let's see, what did the vile creature guard.

A pile of mutilated corpses - that was the mountain of treasures of the "dragon". The workers and clerks from the second building were gathered in one big mound at one level as some horrible fertilizer. It wasn't a mindless massacre, but a wicked and intricate rite to bring the warp into this reality. And the Chaos came, its miasmas filled the structure, the bodies twitched, pieces and whole limbs disappeared and emerged in couple steps, mixing up the remains. Titus saw transparent shadows on the edge of the vile offering, they moved in jerks, ignoring the physics and skipping the space, but didn't try to attack or harm them.
- Decoy, - snarled the inquisitor, - they lured us away from the ritual. Hurry up!
They ran back to the first building and descended to the ground level. The inquisitor called the robed servitor, who was away from Ronese and sent him his helmet's jammed sight. By connecting to the automata, the Mechanicus led Sebastian and instructed him on the complex structure's plan. The Martian guided them to the small emergency elevator, which was rarely used and had better chances not to be mined. Finally, they were on the platform. The lift took them down.
- What is it? - the inquisitor asked him, when he put off the helmet.
- The battery is dead, - Titus put down the sword and the pistol, - I choose speed.
- Tapio, help him.
The sniper assisted to put off the armour. Titus thought about leaving the boots, considering the possible terrain down there, but decided not to. Pison took the pistol and he stood with the sword, barefooted and practically naked, descending in the abyss which promised to become his grave.

The platform had been driving for many minutes, showing them the previously emptied levels of the mine and thick layers of a raw rock. What would all those tanks racing here now do with the enemy hidden so low? And what was the use for the traitors to summon spirits here, far from humans? It was dark at the end of the journey. Tapio went first, scouting the way. Soon they came to the lighted tunnel used by miners. The way humans laid showed them the destination. Down here, the enemies used chainswords, no wonder - with the people above them there were many dozens of killed humans, the marines wouldn't carry so much ammo. Titus was sure, that his former brothers were few, otherwise the beast wouldn't be alone up there. The hum of mining embraced them: servitors and machines drilled and cracked the rock; unattained automates stood still, patiently awaiting to be loaded or pointed to the next goal, oblivious to the dead masters at their trucks; roaring gigantic machines with glowing lights and smoking pipes resembled the warp beast they defeated; the floor, smooth and dusty after so many heavy things rolled it down daily, led them to the main ore deposit. There were more machines and servitors and less corpses.
- We are close, - the inquisitor's voce emerged in his head, despite the noise, they were trying to move quietly, - they have herded people, here must be many thousands of them.
Titus imagines thousands charmed humans with drilling equipment charging him in his sub-suite. The Astartes heard or saw nothing new, but Tapio suddenly raised his rifle and shot the darkness ahead.
- Two, - the hunchback stood still speaking aloud, so he could hear him, - They are space marines.
- Pison with Titus to the left! Jacob with me! - the inquisitor darted to the right, - Tapio, pin them down!
- Yes! - replied the sniper, but the riffle kept silent - the Legionaries wasn't the one to put their heads under fire.
The area was so vast, that they wouldn't reach the walls, without leaving the battlefield. The actual working stations at the distant were brightly illuminated, but this field or the road they were crossing had sparce post lamps with poles filed with signs and pointers. But he saw enough and the acolyte had his visor.
- Tapio said they have split, one came our way, - said the man rising armed arms, the plasma pistol glowed, - they most likely have mental barriers, don't count on my psyching powers.
- I count on your armour, Pison, - his bare foot stepped on a sharp stone.
- I'll cover you, but you must assist the mentor if I die, Titus, - the acolyte pressed to a standing train of minecarts and screamed in his mind, - he is near, I sense him!
Titus winced with pain and nodded silently. He listened to the hum around, trying to identify the steps of the traitor marine, but heard only a lone shot from Tapio, definitely intended for another enemy. The acolyte stepped over the machine; guns raised at the level of Astartes breast. "Shot his rotten hearts", - silently asked Titus, but it was the man's breast that exploded with a hit. He pulled Pison away from the fire to the cover of the train, hearing the second bang of the bolter.
- I'm alright, - gasped the psyker, sounding not alright at all.
- Get yourself together! - Titus glanced at the glowing pistol - no, one shot was too risky against the agile enemy, and the traitor must have seen his sword, may be would try to come closer by himself, wishing to finish them quickly and assist the brother. Keeping the blade, he climbed the cart and saw the Legionary, who was doing the same in few wagons ahead. Titus jumped over the side, leading the enemy from the wounded psyker and being pursued by bursts of bolters. An active but still servitor on tracks was close enough to reach. The head of the automate exploded, but he himself got away only with legs cut by the shards.
- You are fast for the mortal! - shouted the traitor in Gothic.
- And you are loud and stupid for the legionary, - thought Titus. This one got sloppy too, was he drunk from all this murders and witchery?
- Be ready, - the voice emerged in Titus mind. He heard how the traitor turned around suddenly, sensing the treat and jumped over the servitor. The plasma charge hit the marine in the left pauldron, las-beans followed it, but the traitor fired back and stretched the hand with the bolter to Titus. Brightly glowed sword cut down the gun with the forearm holding the weapon. The knife darted to him, but twisting the wrist he managed to stop the left arm too, almost severing it. A kick in the thigh pushed him down, cracking the bone. But he sat on the ground with the glowing sword and the armoured but armless Legionary stood before him; the chainsword hanged on the belt. For a moment the future was unclear, but another shot of Tapio's riffle in the distant broke the spell. The traitor turned and ran away leaving his gun and still breathing enemy. Titus saw in it the Legion's degeneracy. He came to Pison, who was alive but severely wounded - the right hand was hit by a bolt. The Astartes started to take off the ceramite from the wounded arm.
- Does your suite got injections?
- Already have been shot, - weakly answered the psyker.
- Then help me to strip you, it doesn't look like you have an augmented hand.
Pison hadn't got one. So, they release him from the armour and he clamped the artery. He led the wounded human to Tapio squeezing the sword under his arm.
- They are fighting the marine, - the sniper didn't turn to them looking at invisible fight through the scope. Titus remembered the direction, - can't have a clear shot.
- Aid Pison, I'll help them, - the Astartes raced to the next combat. If Tapio had skills and means, the acolyte would survive, though the hand was lost already.

They were close, he felt the corruption of Chaos. It didn't flood the mine, rather formed a dense core of the warp somewhere ahead. The sorcerer in Agnant rushed to summon the spirits in the world, while this one acted slower, preparing something more complicated and therefore much more dangerous. The area was open but for few motionless vehicles, further started an impenetrable darkness. But not for the powerful sniper's eyes.
- He is behind the giant truck with shutdown lights, inquisitor, - Tapio told him through the vox, - I'll cover you.
- Pison and Titus? - he ran faster and more confident, feeling being watched over by the sniper. Jacob ran next to him in silence, holding the pistol and the sword ready. It was strange to see the Obrechts' heir in such unpretentious look, but the man radiated confidence and eagerness in unusually high amounts. "Dragon slayer", he bet his pupil liked that title. A big shape ahead sparkled with Tapio's bullet - so, that was the truck. So close, and he still didn't sense the enemy. He barriered his own mind in case the traitor was a psyker himself.
- Stick together, - he told Jacob, when the truck was close. The vehicle stood sideways to them and had two sets of tracks two men high. The inquisitor finally felt the presence of the enemy both mentally and physically - his left pauldron exploded to pieces, raining the helmet with ceramite and metal chips. Tapio chased away the enemy, who withdrew behind the machine, - to the right!
They ran along the hull, obviously audible to the enemy on the other side, but the marine wouldn't dare to show up behind them because of the sniper. By his command Jacob jumped over the cabin, followed by himself, but there were no enemy to attack. The acolyte pointed his pistol on the roof, but it also was empty. A grenade exploded above them, tossed over the cabin from the other side. It hardly could damage him, but after the recent hit in the shoulder, he hadn't suppressed the instinct and covered the head, losing a moment. Jacob, who was more able in fighting didn't react on the false treat and faced the real attack. He fired once in the emerged traitor, dropped the gun and swung his long blade with both hands. The corrupted marine dodged the strike and the whirring fangs of the chainsword did what the hellfire failed - they destroyed the golden chain. Sebastian hit the enemy, giving Jacob an opportunity to escape the sharp rolling teeth. The traitor dodged his blow as lightly as the previous one. His pupil attacked again, chasing the black giant away from him, so he tried a psychic attack. But the mental barrier swallowed his charge as a void shield. The marine chuckled out loud feeling that failed attempt and knocked down Jacob with the punch in the face with his free hand. Sebastian darted forwards saving the man from the final blow with a wide swing of his mace. With that strike the inquisitor would get anyone, but not the marine. The chainsword failed to cut the shaft, but the enemy was at him sooner than he retrieved his weapon. The relic of master Abate didn't protect from simple brutality - a punch in the chest knocked Sebastian down, leaving another crack in his armour. But he brought his own beast to the fight. The inquisitor felt the presence of his prisoner and now saw him. The traitor must have sensed the third opponent, but too late - the helmet dropped to the ground. Titus released the long blade from the body and it fell down, spitting the rotten blood of the betrayer. The Astartes returned the sword to Jacob and stretched out a hand to him. What a shame that he had taken the other one away.

Sebastian was thirsty and tired despite all efforts of the power armour, it was one of the longest field operations in his service. He wanted to take off the helmet, but unlike Titus he wouldn't be able to breath down here: Tapio, who used the respirator of one of dead miners coughed silently several times. The sniper took care of Pison, the acolyte wouldn't die from the injured arm, though in the physical combat he was next to nothing. The inquisitor hoped, that his pupil would support him in the psychic fight. Jacob was alright, the visor withstood that punch and the man ran briskly in the first row next to the Astartes. Titus's moved lightly, the small cuts on the legs didn't bother him. His own body ached from the received hits today, but in general Sebastian felt ready to the next battle, secretly hoping that it would be the last for today. Down here, without additional devices, they were cut off from the surface and the inquisitor didn't know if new places of the witchery were spotted. Meanwhile the evil got closer. He felt how the enormous energy, that was tamed for now, desired to break free. They discovered the enemy casually, just ran into him. No cave or hill, the same wide area with the humming machines from both sides, standing in the spots of light abandoned by the people. It was the territory of the main mining and the dust hanged in the air.
- The enemy ahead, - simply reported Tapio and in few steps they all saw him - a standing space marine, a symbol of both hope and despair for mankind. Behind him thousands of humans laid still. And above them was...
- Don't look at it! - screamed Sebastian, - The Emperor protect us! Pison cover your mind, all of you have faith and stay strong! - he himself glanced at it for a tiniest part of a moment and for that time he felt that he was turned inside out. The inquisitor didn't know that his eyelids could shut so fast. The body has saved him, for the mind wouldn't have made it. It was the Chaos! The sorcerer wasn't going to summon daemons, he was going to brought a fragment of Abderra or entire planet into the warp itself.
- Kill him! For the Imperium! - Sebastian darted forwards, the shots from his squad outraced his battle cry. They were the last hope of Migdonia system.

Titus ran to the enemy; his sword wanted more blood of the traitors. The sorcerer stood, ignoring their shots and yells. He saw a thin metal object stuck in the ground behind the marine, but another thing grabbed his attention. The shadowed floor gave birth to a big shape that ran on them. Titus recognized the shorten and mutilated limbs of the traitor he and Pison chased away. The bastard was coming for more, but did he have that horn on the helmet? He blinked from the damned dust covering his face and prepared to finish the enemy. Tapio's bullet pierced the head, but the marine kept running, moreover a rope of wet muscles grew from the stump - the possessed. A weak soul in the strong body, these creatures didn't surprise him anymore. Another shot from the hunchback took the half of the head, the other half tilted back, but from the open neck came out two more cables rolled from the flesh.
- Filthy beast! - the former legionary disgusted him, he refused to accept that he could end up the same way. Never! He would kill entire Legion first, he would challenge the Primarch himself, but would not change the nobility of a true warrior for the ugly coward with "gifts" from the spirits. If the thing in the black ceramite used to be a Son of Horus, then it has lived ten millennia for nothing and its pathetic existence will end now.
Titus cut the thickened tentacle from the arm, getting behind the possessed. He parried one appendage from the neck, which seemed to be unaffected by the power field. For his fortune the second thing was shot off by Tapio, so Titus could jump back from the enemy, blocking the ferocious attacks of the last tentacle, which got bigger with every jerk. He heard the steps of the humans, when the possessed suddenly turned and grabbed him with the left hand. But the five-fingered palm hanged loosely next to the new thick limb, grown from the wound. Three big fingers, partly covered with bones tossed him at the approaching Jacob, who dodged him flying by and charged the strange enemy. The inquisitor was behind his pupil. Titus landed and returned to the fight. When he get closer, the creature has lost one of the new fingers and the right knee had been shattered. Having one hand and one appendage the possessed could parry two attacks at the time, it had nothing against his sword. As thinking the same, the enemy tried to disarmed Sebastian - the tentacle wrapped around the handle, but started to twitch all over. Jacob use the moment and cut the twisted flesh. In return the giant hand slapped the acolyte aside. It made room for the Astartes to jump in and he stuck the sword in the ugly limb, but failed to cut it off. Sebastian smashed the body, cracking ceramite open. The shrunk remnants of the appendage hanged around the handle. A new tentacle emerged above them holding the rest of the head. The helmet was gone reveling the half of the face. The bullet hit it, but this time in vain. The open mouth poured out fire-like matter in semicircle, making three of them stumble back. Behind the dark flame the possessed creaked and grew up. The enemy leapt on them over the fire, crushing the ground with giant fists: the right stump became a skinless arm too with four claws on the end. The whole body enlarged, extending the pieces of the broken armour: the right leg was totally wrapped up in tight ropes of glistening flesh; the left retained the look of humanoid anatomy; a whip-like tentacle filled with bone spikes hanged stiffly from the belly; the remnants of the face laid horizontally atop the grotesque body, the mouth and the socket glowed with dark fire, being the "eyes" of the monster.
- Have faith! - screamed the inquisitor hitting the bloated leg dodging the swung of the right paw. Jacob was pressing the left one, trying to cut off more thick fingers. Their weapons damaged the possessed, though it wasn't clear how badly. Las-beans from two pistols hit the tiny head - all humans took part in the fight.
- Die! - with the universal battle cry he darted to the monster. The Astartes was glad to feel the dust in his nostrils - the beast reeked strongly. The tentacle stopped whipping the inquisitor and lashed him. Titus parried the living weapon with his sword, but glowing weapon failed to cut the thing, which bent around it and one filthy bone pierced his back. In rage Titus turned, freeing the wound from the spike and cut down several outgrowths. The appendage twitched and slapped him on the back knocking down breathless. The ribcage and the shoulder blade withstood and Titus got on his feet. Sebastian was struggling with the right paw, which burned and shook but held the mace. The tentacle lashed him, but the armour withstood. Jacob darted to cut the whip treating his mentor and succeeded, chopping off the half. But two fingers as pincers squeezed his head and threw the man away. Titus didn't know if the acolyte's neck survived that throw. He was leaping on the monster, protecting the inquisitor from the second arm. The vile appendage was growing again. "Have faith". He had none, nothing like humans for sure. But he believed in the Crusade. Despite the disaster it had turned in and the hidden truth of the warp, Titus still shared its values. The galaxy belonged to mankind, which paid for that with the ocean of blood of space proportions. And there were more than few drops of his own in it, and the entire sea of his gone brothers'.
- Die! - he cried again, but this time the many thousands-strong choir repeated after him.
Titus cut off the filthy whip and pierced its root, putting the sword in the possessed up to his elbow. The insides of the monster were strange, less dense, than it should be. He had been pulled in the air; the left arm of the creature was thick enough to squeeze him dead. Titus hit the skinless muscles wrapped around his body with the empty first. Jacob ran below and stuck the sword in the leg, the hand let him go and knocked down the man, whose weapon left in the limb. The creature didn't get to step on Jacob - the inquisitor finally freed his weapon from the paw, which turned into the rags of scorched flesh, and broke the right leg of the monster, making it stumble back. Sebastian was unstoppable, he hit the belly, splashing meat and ceramite chips, turned around himself swinging the mace and crushed it into the second leg, knocking the bloated monster on the back. Titus stood and watched, how the inquisitor stepped on the fallen enemy and smashed the last reminder that the giant was the Astartes once. After another hit in the chest the monster crumbled, leaving the burning lumps of garbage.
- That was a strong possessed, - Titus said to the inquisitor, who was walking oblivious to the ash under his boots.
- It wasn't a possessed, - said Jacob, picking up his sword from the pile of remnants, - the mentor slain the daemon.
- And his master will be harder to beat, - grimly replied Sebastian, turning to the motionless marine, seemed indifferent to the vanished guardian.
- My bullets don't pierce the field, - said Tapio, - and I have few more.
- Save them for the right moment, stay here.
They left the sniper and cautiously approached the sorcerer. Titus made himself not to look up, that thing beckoned him, almost physically pulling his head. He didn't know what it was, but obviously the potent witchery was in process and the captured humans fueled it. People laid in slumber, moaning quietly and twitched weakly. There were thousands of them. The outer rows of the captives were at some distant from the main mass, possibly, they were the charmed slaves, herded the rest of the victims. The metal stick turned to be a staff. The thing had no head decorum and was a plain carved pole. The runes were no Gothic nor Cthonian. He stepped aside and stopped behind the motionless Legionary, drawing the knife from the sheath, strapped to his waist by some belt after he became naked. To his right stood Jacob with the raised sword, to his left - Pison, the wounded arm bent and bandaged, the right held the pistol. The inquisitor stood across him, face to face with the enemy. Titus saw the familiar pattern of the armour, painted black and rimmed with gold. It didn't reflect the sins of the wearer, rather looked fresh and smooth, as it was the first day of its service. But it wasn't, despite the reek of the warp and witchery, Titus sensed the son of Horus under the ceramite. The mace hit the air next to the helmet, the power fields sparked and flashed, and the defensive one won. Sebastian didn't waste time on the further attempts he put down the weapon and nodded to Pison. The acolyte put away the gun and bowed. The man froze for a half a minute and flew back as somebody kicked him. The bullet flashed, the mace and the sword dropped on the marine, but the field withstood all attacks. Titus stood still, feeling that his blade was useless now and seeing that Pison was alive. The acolyte stood on his three, and straightened up. With the shaking hand he took off and tossed the helmet.
- I can! - the acolyte stubbornly repeated, spitting out the blood. The red tracks ran from his closed eyes, but the man confidently stepped to the sorcerer stretching out his palm. He saw Pison's lips moving silently. The inquisitor seemed to trust his pupil and didn't try to stop him. Instead, Sebastian and Jacob raised their weapons. Titus didn't know what's was going on, but his hand would strike the traitor the moment there will be a chance.
- The Emperor's light pierces any darkness, - Pison was raising his voice and now was screaming inspiredly, - you will not hide from Him! - the palm hit the air and stopped, but the sorcerer's fingers twitched slightly. - Your vile witchery is nothing against the true power! - the ceramite gauntlet glowed and cracked, the blood started to drip burning in dark flames. - The false gods run from the Emperor! They will not protect you, weak. Obey His will!
Pison's palm came through the sparking air and touched the shoulder pad. The very moment Titus felt the push and landed atop the sleeping humans gasping. If the inquisitor hadn't removed the psy-conductor before returning to Abderra, that blast would have killed him. He spurred himself to stand up and return to the fight, sounds of which he could hear. The knife was in his palm, no punch would make him lose it. He stood up, stepping on some man, and felt it - the almighty void, calling him. The voices were not offering him gifts, they knew how strong he was. They addressed him as equal. He could rule the Empyrean with them. They need him to guide them, to bring eternal chaos to order. Make one step. Turn the head.
- Titus! - the voice of the inquisitor, mental or verbal, broke the spell and he ran to the fight around the staff.
Pison laid still tossed away as he himself, but two other men withstood the blast and were trying to kill the sorcerer, who was fast and agile as any other Astartes. The traitor was armed only with a straight dagger, but his second hand was a weapon on its own - the marine's palm could crack visor or rip off human limb along with the armour. It was a dance for three: the enemy was after Sebastian, whose mace wasn't good at the short distance; Jacob kept the marine off his master constantly attacking with the sword; the inquisitor wielded the weapon covering the man, when he got the attention of the Legionary. Their combat left no place for a Tapio's bullet, but Titus would cut in. However, the sorcerer wasn't going to fight three of them simultaneously. The traitor dodged another swing of Jacob's sword, stubbed the man and darted on him, leaving Sebastian to smash the ground. Only three steps separated former brothers, but Tapio caught the moment and the black helmet twitched - a glance hit! Black ceramite chips joined the whirl of ore dust around them. Titus wasn't going to meet the enemy face to face, not like this, he must use their numerical superiority.
- Coward! - emerged in his mind, when he jumped aside, waiting for the humans to support him.
The inquisitor came first, striking with the mace, but the handle was caught by the black hand, the parchments seemed not dangerous to the traitor, how it was to the daemon. The sorcerer had to parry the Jacob's blow instead of hitting the psyker. The dull dagger stopped the glowing blade. For a moment it was a tie. He was going to sway the balance in their favor leaping on the enemy from behind - and landed on the back, pushed by invisible force again. This time Jacob has been tossed away too. Sebastian didn't let the mace go and stayed closed. The sorcerer ducked turning the pauldron under the sniper's shot and stubbed the inquisitor in the guts. He saw, how damaged ceramite has been shattered and the blood splashed the dagger. The traitor turned to block his knife with the wet blade, already covered with dust. Titus gasped and fell from the punch in the breast, broken bones filled his lungs with blood.
- Weak maggot! - thundered in his mind.
Jacob came to rescue him and the Inquisitor, chasing away the sorcerer using his sword as a spear.
- It's not over yet, - he snarled to Sebastian, who was laying on the side. The lenses were watching the fighting couple silently. Oblivious to the injures Titus stood up and grabbed the glowing mace turning to Jacob. The man was defending, the sorcerer circled around the acolyte, who frantically waved his sword parrying the thrusts. Jacob fell down from the hit in the head with the armoured elbow, the sword clinked on the ground. A shot made the traitor turned to invisible Tapio. A twitchy wave of the empty palm and the fire emerged at the distant. The mace in Titus' arms blew the dust away diving on the traitor, but the marine had already turned back and escape the death strike. The glowing ball hit the ground. He swung the weapon again. The enemy easily dodged the clumsy attack and made him move backwards escaping the dagger.
- You need two arms for a weapon like this, - the voice in the head mocked him.
Titus kept retreating as calmly as possible. Those cheap baits wouldn't work on him. If the bastard could speak to him mentally, why wouldn't he just burn his mind? He hardly got away from another lethal attack. The sorcerer was on guard, that could mean that one of the psykers were alive! Titus saw a chance and used it, swinging the mace, which was caught by the black gauntlet - a trap. He had to drop the handle and jumped back before the dagger killed him. Now Titus stood unarmed, it wouldn't take much to finish him now. The mace darted to his face and the dagger from below. Glowing globe, dagger, gauntlet, dagger, mace from above, - the death was approaching in the whirl of blows. Suddenly it stopped. Not wasting time on guessing why, he darted for the long sword. The sorcerer just come alive and raised the mace to block his strike - too late. The blade cut the head in half and stuck in the broad chest.
- For the Legion! - Titus pulled out the sword and spat on the corpse. But the death of the sorcerer changed nothing.
- My mace, - whispered Sebastian in his mind.
The Astartes took the weapon from the dead fingers and ran to the inquisitor, who crawled to the sticking out staff.
- Stay close, - the psyker was in the helmet, but according to his voice and movements, he must have a grave look, - help me to sit.
The inquisitor started to unroll the parchments from the handle and wrap the stuff with it. He was doing it in silence, shaking from the wound, probably reading prayers or using his psychic powers. The tension was so strong, that Titus wouldn't feel if more mental forces came to action. He was wondering what happened to the rest of the squad.
- Titus, - Sebastian called him and he helped his capturer to step away from the stuff, covered with inscriptions, - break it.
The Astartes picked the mace, take a swing and hit the stick like a nail. The stuff blown to pieces and he felt how his feet slipped towards the sleeping humans, to the thing.
- Take Pison and get out! - the inquisitor was hobbling away.
Titus saw the lying acolyte, but first he picked up his knife. The Astartes took the unconscious man on the shoulder and trotted after Sebastian, guessing how critical his own damages were. The dust in the air started to fly in one direction, hitting him in the face. He heard voices and shrieks and then thousands of humans started to scream choking on blood and pain. Titus didn't look behind, not willing to see his guess be proved true.
- Hurry up! - the inquisitor stood leaning on the long sword. Bent Jacob was held by Tapio, who risked to break the riffle under the weight of two men. - To the elevator, we have finished here.
They beaten squad made it to the moving platform. The sucking wind didn't pursue them.
- Titus, charmed guardsmen are on you, - said Sebastian, sitting on the platform, - I will call the shuttle. Tapio, how have you survived the cursed fire?
- Prayers, master, - the man was lying next to both acolytes. His cloak had gone, the cloth was burned. Pison didn't came to his senses. Jacob moved with support till the elevator, when it took off, he fainted, showing few cracks the dagger left in his armour.
- I see, - the inquisitor nodded and passed out.
***
The Emperor had mercy on them later that day. Ronese met the squad with the grave silence: all controlled soldiers were dead and the civilians didn't dare to leave living blocks. There were no more attempts to harm the suffered world. Abderra has been saved. The robed servitor took them to Ataraxis and the survived Mechanicus delivered them to Olynthum, for the planet could repaid its saviors with medical assistance. He declared Agnant and Ronese's mines forbidden areas and ordered to keep habitants of the latter in quarantine. Then he trusted his life to the best medic Olynthum Z could provide. He has slept for a day, while on the other side of the planet the last insurgents were being put down. All this time the Astartes has been on the ship with the techno-priest. And now, when they all returned to Ataraxis something was to be change.

- Master Boethius reported on receiving a message, master, - the robed servitor creaked behind him.
- I'll look to it later, - he had a feeling it was from inquisitor Dana. What did that insolent serf send to his superior? And has Dana taken it seriously? Would he, Sebastian Silver, stay a savior of Migdonia system known to few or become infamous traitor for the knowledge of even smaller circle? He stepped in his cabin.
- Mentor! - Jacob turned from the shrine. Dressed up even brighter without his power armour. The face wore no trace of recent events, in or out. Jacob smiled confidently and twirled his moustache.
- Inquisitor, - Tapio bowed, standing next to the bed. One of the best men he has ever met. Sebastian wished that meeting the sniper dreams about would not happen soon.
- Pison is still recovering, - the inquisitor started, wondering where was the Astartes. The Mechanicus said he has already finished the thing Titus asked him to do. Sebastian guessed he knew what was it about. Oh, here he was. The inquisitor sensed the approaching warrior. - It is time to properly introduce the new member of our crew, - Tapio's face couldn't tell much, Jacob's eyes glowed. The heavy steps emerged and the door slid open, - meet Titus Livius, the only survivor of the Emperor's Knives, the glorious chapter of Adeptus Astartes perished in our eternal war. Come in, angel of death and lend us your strength, granted by the Emperor.
Titus crossed the threshold. Three freshly polished ancient service studs gleamed on his forehead.
Now, to that message.