Checkmate in Ash and Blood

The core trashed in its braces, as if coming to life. Systems began to fail as the heat rose to
unsustainable levels, bolts began to liquefy and adamantium plates issured. Under normal
circumstances such dangerous happenings would trigger an alarm, awakening a caregiver
from their deep slumber and yet the ship remained silent.

The Griffin charged at the intruder, its wings accelerating it to fearsome speeds. It leaped
at its target, front claws ready to shred but not before the monstrous avian foe swung
itself out of the way by lapping its wide wings. The Griffin roared in frustration, and
continued its relentless attacks.

It had been seven hundred and thirty three years since the Seed Ship Thermopylae left
Mars for the cold embrace of empty space in search of a new home. Seven hundred and
thirty three years since they had been ighting.

The creature lew above the Griffin, out of reach from its claws. Not to be defeated, the
half lion half eagle joined its foe in the skies and swung a claw towards the avian’s head.
Proud of its bait, the creature shrieked before swiftly diving under the Griffin and clawing
the exposed belly, cutting deep into it. In agony, the mythical beast fell back to the ground,
blood trickling from under it. Plasma conduits overheated, melting their housings and
destroying more and more of the Knight’s machinery.

“Give up now and I will end you swiftly!” spoke the monstrous avian, its voice a twisted
shriek that sent waves across the planes. It descended slowly before stopping itself above
the wounded beast below.

The Griffin’s roar was no longer a challenge—it was a vow. Even broken, I endure

“Fool of a beast! You resist my embrace! Then you shall know unimaginable pain!” The
abnormal wings of the avian abomination dove to inish off its target.

Just as the grotesque claws fell onto the Griffin, the wounded beast snapped back and
aimed its maw for the avian’s neck. Unprepared to react, the winged intruder found itself
feeling crushed, blue blood gushing everywhere. “N-No You… Can’t!” it shrieked, trying to
trash itself free but the Griffin held, closing its sharp beak more and more.

Suddenly the maw snapped back together, separating the avian’s neck from its body.
Blood boiled and burst into pure warp energy, the beast’s form shattering and engul ing
the Grif in.

You have no idea what you’ve done beast! You think you can consume me? Ag’Dresil,
shard of the Changer of Ways itself!

The avian still spoke, now without a mouth its voice had turned ethereal, formless, and
illed with hate.

The Griffin continued feasting upon the disintegrating form that had taken the intruder,
gorging itself upon the leeting warp energy. The more it ate, the more its fur changed
color to a sickly blue hue, feathers growing into grotesque shapes, replicating the beast it
had just eaten.

The victorious creature roared before succumbing to its wounds, its shape a crude
relection of what it used to be.

Suddenly the cloud of free warp energy that remained found itself pulled into the Griffin.
The surroundings sparked with powerful tendrils of light, deafening booms pierced the
silence. The sky above twirled into a spiral of dark energy, lightning falling onto the
ground below. The dead beast, defying all laws came to life, enrobed in other-worldly
energy, its eyes a glistening blue, and its wound glowing from the same unnatural light.

The reborn creature roared with a deafening shock wave dispersing the storm.

“I—What is this?” the voice echoed itself, between primal roar and whispering tone, slowly
merging into one.

The core returned to nominal temperatures. Many of the Knight’s systems, once damaged
beyond repair, now showed themselves as ready anew, mystical energy dissipating as it
mended broken parts.

---

Music boomed across the dimly lit bar, only through occasional colored strobe lights could
one see further than their nose. The center of the room had been re-purposed into a
stage where exotic dancers scantily clad poured their sweat out to please the onlookers.
Once a hangar illed with dull boxes of produce and other goods, now a roaring nightclub
where men and women spilled their hard earned salaries—and their secrets. The stage
was surrounded by the intoxicated as they cheered on their favorite dancer, hoping to win
a special night should they spend enough. The stench of sweat and cheap alcohols was
overpowering.

Opposite of the bar were several tables and seats that offered a relative privacy from one
another, where under the table deals found shaking hands. Around the furthest of tables
from the entrance, two souls sat:

“Kark! How do you even drink this stuff.” The woman spat out her drink, and pushed it
away.

“If it were amasec I’d be heart-broken but looking at this stuff… I wonder what they even
put in this—still tastes alright, don’t you agree my dear.” The man took a large sip out of
the the plasteel cup, a smirk on his face as he ingested the unusual concoction, a delicacy
of Rieya VIII’s lone starport.

“Ugh how long do we have to keep up this charade… We’ve been waiting for two hours
now.” She laid back in her chair, arms crossed, moving uncomfortably from her outit. “The
longer I stay in this, the more I can’t wait to tear it off once we’re home.”

“Nonsense, you look amazing as a lawless trader who’s ready to accept any deal… even
the darkest one…” he spoke as if telling a dramatic story. “Anyways kiddo, just be patient
and keep up the mask, isn’t that right Orthenia?”

She sighed, shaking her head at the ridicule she felt subjected to “Yes yes… Lets hope they
arrive soon so we can get down to business, my dear ‘Luther’” stressing her
pronunciation on her partner’s alias.

Gastel gave a wide smile, it had been weeks since their last deployment and he was
enjoying every moment of it, even at the expense of Zareen’s pride. Another half hour
later, a group of ive muscled ridden igures crossed the nightclub’s door. They all wore
rough outits, showing their age and battles past—their weapons clearly shown in their
holsters. The group approached the two retinue members, the center figure spoke irst,
his was voice raspy and his face showed ugly burns on his left, either from injury or
prolonged exposure to toxic chemicals, as was the fate of many across the Imperium.

“Singula Praxis I presume.” The figure took a seat across from both Gastel and Zareen,
forming a triangle.

“That’s us, Singula Praxis Incorporated, finest smugglers around if you believe our clients.”
The miliatrum man took the lead, exploiting his infectious charm through his smile.

“It’s odd we haven’t been able to find any of your previous clients—or any mention of you
anywhere…” continued the figure. Zareen remained silent, a supportive role rather, trying
to mimic her partner’s energy.

“That brings pride to me heart!” Gastel howled with laughter “Its our job to keep things
down low with the merchandise—and the clients. No one likes it when someone inds
their dirty laundry.”

“You are correct—it’s just—we have suspicions. You understand of course, when
something appears too good to be true, it always is.” He brought his elbows on the table,
crossing his fingers as his gaze studied the two ‘smugglers’.

“Of course, I completely understand. We can answer any questions you might have before
you inevitably become one of our clients.” His smirk radiating conidence, Zareen was
impressed with how well he took his role.

“We shall see about that. Lets see—“

“How about introductions around a sweet drink of whatever’s in this cup!” Taking the
initiative, he would much rather keep his act around a inebriated ‘client’. “Hey! Servitor!
Fetch us an extra cup for my new friend here!” yelling to catch the overburdened
mechanical server through the almost deafening music.

“Where are my manners, you’re right, uh—Luther is that correct?”

“Luther Farid, that’s me. Been in this line of work since I could speak my first gothic—
father’s business. And to my right is the gorgeous Orthenia, my partner in crime. She looks
like just a sweet lower but she could wrestle a grox with her bare hands!”

“Hey” was all Zareen spoke, keeping her arms crossed to mask her trembling hands.
By now the drinks had arrived, they all took a sip, the pilot trying her damnedest to
swallow the nauseating substance.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance lady and mister Farid, I believe I need no
introduction but in the spirit of good manners—I am Meliaias Ghraxx, lord of this station,
temporarily unof icially.” He snickered, whatever authority manned this station had been
blind and powerless to stop the rise of illegal dealings, and now they had a self-appointed
‘lord’ ruling from behind the curtains. However that was of no concern to the inquisition,
they sought something far more dangerous.

“Terrific, we’re already practically best friends!” continued Gastel. “We can move to
business.”

“Not so fast. I wish to know more about your methods of transport, how do you plan to
safely smuggle my priceless merchandise across systems under the ruthless eye of the
Inquisition. They caught my last shipment due to the smuggler’s incompetence. I will not
be taking that risk again.”

“Well—we can’t share every secret we have… I can reveal that one of our helpful little
tricks is having found the command codes of a certain Skyla Cru—“

“Admiral Cru? Impossible, she reigned over this system eons ago.”

“Yes—and she suddenly vanished—her entire ship never left the warp. That is until we
found a derelict Destroyer belonging to a certain long lost Admiral. The ship was largely
empty but we did ind her personal quarters and were able to nab her command codes—
which help a lot when traveling through systems with an unbearable Imperial Navy
presence.” Zareen was so impressed by how well Gastel lied that she even started to
believe his tale, even if she knew Bel had simply replicated Cru’s codes by accessing her
files thanks to Phoebe’s authorizations.

“That—is impressive, mayhap my suspicions were misplaced.”

“I’m glad we can come to a mutual understanding!” Gastel grabbed his cup and took
another large sip.

“But now business, as you’ve heard I need to get my merchandise to Shenla’s Haven as
soon as possible, with my last failed shipment my clients have grown restless and I do not
wish to miss out on such a lucrative contract.”

“Of course I completely understand, we will make sure you can sleep soundly once this
merchandise reaches them safe and sound.”

“Good, there are nine crates sealed in ceramite that will require transport.”

“Ceramite? Throne that must be some important cargo.”

“Its nothing dangerous if that’s your worry, they are simply priceless artifacts from a
forbidden world. My clients collect these trinkets for a purpose I care not.”

“Artifacts? Like Human artifacts? Xeno artifacts? I’ve got a friend who works in geological
analysis and he’s always been fascinated with these old trinkets.” Gastel was now tempting
fate, all he needed was conirmation of the cargo and their mission was over.

The man removed this hands from the table and brought one to his mouth to whisper
“Artifacts relating to Khorne supposedly.”

The Throne provides

Swiftly without bringing attention, Zareen tapped the ring on her index, with a precise
rhythm she spelled out ‘Conirmed’ to whoever was listening on the the other side.

“Well as long as it makes a damn good amount of money!” laughed Gastel, steering the
conversation away, and keeping his client occupied.

Suddenly one of the four armed men tapped the vox-receiver in his ear and approached
Ghraxx, whispering to him. The underground Lord’s face exploded with shock and rage
“Someone is raiding my stores! You told them you Throne-loving-hounds! Kill them!”
The four grunts grabbed their autopistols out of their holsters and readied themselves to
enact vengeance. However Zareen and Gastel anticipated the reprisal, already weapons
drawn they ired at the armed men. The Harakoni Warhawk colored laspistol spat
precisely into one gunman and then another, their faces bursting and boiling under the
immense heat as charred lesh lew.

The pilot followed her mentor’s example by firing her autopistol at the closest of the men,
her bullets tearing open his neck and piercing the spinal cord, rendering him paralyzed as
he drowned in his blood. As the irst fell, she quickly continued her burst onto the inal
gunman, this time striking him straight through his face as chunks of lesh and brain burst
into the air. Two years ago she would shake at the thought of carrying a weapon, now it
became an extension of her vengeance. The staccato of autopistols drowned the club’s
music. Zareen tasted copper as a bullet grazed her lip – then the ozone stink of Gastel’s
laspistol boiling eyeballs.

Meliaias cowered under the table, trying to hide from the carnage before being grabbed
by Gastel and dragged away. The three of them ran out, concealing themselves in the
screaming crowd as they made their escape towards the transport Phoebe had left them.
More gunmen spotted the trio due to Ghraxx’s incessant screams, Zareen swiftly brought
her weapon to bare and squeezed the trigger— spraying two goons with a hail of brass
that sent them reeling onto the loor. Gastel’s endless drills burned in her muscles—fire,
reload, breathe—as her bullets found throats and skulls. The once innocent farmer was
now capable of taking out foe after foe with ease—until they started firing back.

Many of the crowd were cut down by the indiscriminate fire, Zareen cursed her enemy for
being so negligent, to kill so many innocents was barbarism to her. But the mission was
the priority—she continued running behind Gastel, making sure no one could harm them.
Just as they arrived by the small transport that would serve as their escape, Zareen felt
her left shoulder getting hit by a pike and then an intense burning sensation.

“Kark you’ve been hit! Get down!” yelled Gastel, shoving the terrified Ghraxx into the ship
and knocking him out with a fell swing to the back of the skull, before running back out
and quickly taking out target after target with lethal precision. Once they had a moment of
reprieve, he grabbed the wounded pilot and brought her inside the shuttle. Taking a brief
look at her wound, he could already see how badly the bullet had damaged her shoulder,
it was a gruesome mess, the bullet had splintered and torn much of the muscles and bone.

Zareen felt her world tumble and spin, the pain so intense she couldn’t feel anything but it.

Gastel jumped onto the pilot’s seat and brought the vessel to life. Pressing on a button by
the stick, he opened comms with the Inquisitorial vessel standing by: “Gastel speaking, I
have the target aboard, Zareen however is wounded” he briely looked behind him at the
bleeding woman, her eyes lickering in and out of consciousness ”Badly”

With the station now hunting them, the hangar’s doors remained closed, he flicked a
switch beside him and slammed on a large red square shaped button, iring the shuttle’s
hidden lascannons. The shuttle kept firing until Gastel judged the door weakened enough
and proceeded to fire all thrusters and plowed through, tearing a large hole through it.

Once in the emptiness of space, the militarum man plotted a course back to their
mothership, before leaving his seat and emptying every locker to find anything that could
help Zareen.

“Talk to me kiddo!” as he continued perusing the stores.

“I—Throne it hurts dad…”

“Dad? Hells you’re delirious! Keep your mind on my voice!”

“Ask… Balphus – he’s good with this… stuff.”

“Finally!” Gastel took out a construction stapler and ran back towards the fleeting woman.

“This is going to hurt a karking lot but I swear it’s for your good.” Placing the stapler
beside her, he grabbed his knife and his laspistol—with a single shot the knife was red hot,
practically melting. He brought it at her gaping wound, still leaking a river of blood. The
knife glowed cherry-red. “Bite this,” Gastel shoved a leather strap between her teeth. “For
the Emperor.” The sizzle of lesh sounded like bacon on a skillet.

She tried speaking but only muffled sounds came through, until Zareen screamed in agony as the
blade pressed against exposed veins, searing them shut. Gastel held her with one hand
trying to keep her still while the other continued its burning work. “STOP PLEASE I BEG
YOU!” yelled the poor pilot through the strap, her pain reaching thresholds she hadn’t felt since that fateful day on Onerth.

Once he’d charred enough of the veins, he attempted to brutishly close parts of the wound
with the stapler as it pierced the agonizing woman’s skin. Her screams continued to echo
throughout the shuttle. This was necessary, Gastel knew it. He tried every method in the
book to keep Zareen alive. He would not lose another.

---

As soon as the shuttle landed, the unconscious Zareen was swiftly evacuated and given to
Sasin’s mechadendrites. In the meantime, Meliaias Ghraxx was taken to a holding cell,
awaiting further interrogation on his illicit trade of heretical artifacts.

“Kark man—it happened so fast. I should have been the one protecting her…”

“It’s not your fault Gastel. Our line of work isn’t a safe one and sometimes things happen.”

“What if I gave a false sense of security and she was unprepared Talleia? I was the idiot
joking around about how ‘nine successful ops in a row with no hiccups, can we make it
ten?’”

“You’re correct in one thing, you’re being an idiot right now. She’s not the kid we picked
up from that lone planet anymore. She’s trained immensely hard, harder than some of us
to be honest. She once told me how she’d spend so much time alone at the range in the
middle of the night because she couldn’t sleep before getting a perfect score. Or that time
she spent fourteen hours trying to beat Bel’s newest Knight combat simulation, only for
her to be forced to stop when the program itself broke.”

“I do remember that one – the look on Zareen’s face when Bel told her he had made the
simulation unbeatable.” He chuckled slightly, reminiscing on old stories.

“Exactly. So you understand that she’s just like us now, just another agent of the great God
Emperor” she said with a smile.

They continued sharing stories, exchanging laughs, trying to keep their minds off the
woman’s fate.

Not before long, the door beside them opened, it was Sasin. They both eagerly awaited
news “[Protocols cooling] The operation was complex, whatever bullet was ired was no
ordinary one. It more akin to ancient so-called ‘shredder’ shells, likely Ghraxx’s personal
army were equipped with oddities from his illicit trades.”

“Yes yes what about the kid? Will she live?” asked eagerly Gastel.

“Her odds of survival amount to 89.2% – that is to say, yes she will be ine.” Both guests
who’d awaited hours for any news inally felt the weight of the world leave their
exhausted shoulders.

The techpriest continued “She will still need further care, and her recovery will not be
easy. For now she sleeps but there is still a long journey ahead for her I’m afraid.”
“That’s alright, I’ll already start preparing and planning ways of bringing her back up to
speed.” Spoke the Captain.

“Agreed, I’ll work on a nice soft training routine that’ll ease her back into punching
servitors like there’s no tomorrow!” he had inally regained his joy now that his little
prodigy was out of harms way.

“That warms my augmented heart.” Added Sasin. “Now then there are other matters I
must attend, if you’ll excuse me.” She bowed and left, walking down the dark corridors, the
lights had dimmed signifying standard Night time.

“Well that’s my cue as well, long day tomorrow, Lady Phoebe wants a report by twelve
standard.” The Militarum man stretched his aching body, before taking is leave as well.

“I don’t envy you, but take care Gastel and remember, you did good out there.”

“Right, see you!”

Gastel’s laughter faded down the corridor. In the sudden quiet, the medbay’s lumens
lickered – just as a shadow pooled beneath the door.

Dressed in her usual attire, Lilith’s pale hands grabbed the door handle and pushed it
open softly, hoping not to awaken the recovering Zareen. Closing it behind her, she moved
towards the bed where the woman lay, she sat on plasteel chair and looked at the sleeping
pilot. The lip still bruised and cut slightly from the bullet graze, her hair had been quickly
fashioned into a bun to avoid interfering with the surgery.

The psyker took a deep breath and brought her hand upon Zareen’s, embracing it gently.

‘The words elude me. For once, the Inquisitor has no script – only the confession of a broken
woman.’ She spoke not through sound but thought, connecting herself to the wounded
woman’s sleeping mind.

‘As you know by now hopefully, my work takes almost every part of me—if I don’t I’ll… die. I
cannot show weakness or they’ll come swooping in like Drukhari raiders, bringing me to
Throne knows where so they can—never mind, you don’t need that in your head right now.
Something my mentor taught me very young was that others, friends, family, lovers can be
something incredibly powerful but also your deadliest poison.

When I was nineteen, we were deployed on some agriworld, trying to root out a potential
chaos’s cult who’d successfully summon daemons that had ravaged certain sectors—I met
someone then, his name was Eli. He’d been our unofficial informant, helping us find hints of
the cult’s existence and location. We… spent a long time together and I formed a close bond
with Eli, normally Baarneas would’ve intervened by now but this time he said nothing—so
things continued and we became… very close, close enough that I started entertaining…
fantasies of abandoning my duty for him.

One night, he took me out to a secluded place, just the two of us. I was far too enamored to
even think twice. There he confessed his desire to become husband and wife, that he would
take me away from the ‘evil’ Inquisition, that we would live alone out in the mountains so we
would only have each other… Part of me honestly thought that was something I desired as
well—but I couldn’t, we would be hunted by the order. So I told him no, that it was impossible
for us, but that I still loved him and we could think of something else. Then Eli became… not
himself, his whispers curdled. ‘You are mine,’ he hissed, fingers gouging my wrists. ‘I will peel
the Inquisition from your flesh if I must.’

That’s when my senses finally woke up and realized the mess I was in. He kept getting worse
and worse, I tried to plead with him to see reason but he was out of control—then he took
out a knife and proclaimed that if I refused, he would take his own life, that he could not exist
without me. When I tried to calm him down one last time, as I approached him he leaped at
me, knife aimed at my chest and poised to hit true. That’s when Baarneas put an end it, with a
simple lick of his wrist, Eli’s every bone broke at once. I… I was horrified and too frozen to
move. That’s when the truth revealed itself, his body contorted impossibly, lesh warped into
purple hues, he continued to scream, laugh and yell about his love for me, his voice unnatural,
wrong—he was not himself, instead as someone corrupted by Slaanesh. Baarneas continued,
breaking the abomination piece by piece until nothing remained.

Once it was over, he did not come for me, all he said was ‘love is nothing but a powerful tool
you can wield, or be wielded by.’ There was never a chaos cult, instead a powerful artifact that
twisted the minds of those around it, turning innocent love into a bloody obsession. It took
me weeks, months to recover from the ordeal, but in the end I understood the lesson my
mentor sought to teach me.

What I mean to say is—relationships are not something I can afford. The risk is too great—or
so is what I believed. You have proved yourself loyal beyond all accounts but not out of dogma,
but because you believe in me. You’ve seen through my eyes, as much as one can without
psychic abilities. You’ve subjected yourself to terrible trauma to help me. And for all of that
and more, I cannot thank you enough Zareen. When I heard of your wound, fear coursed
through me, something I’ve rarely ever felt. Against all reason you’ve somehow reached into
this cold witch’s broken heart and plucked its strings in perfect harmony, I would be honored
and… happy if we could be friends. If that is alright with you of course, I understand if not, I
have been a—difficult person to work with.

Either way, I wanted to thank you again for being who you are, and I wish you a swift
recovery Zareen.

Good night and sweet dreams.“

Phoebe’s hand lingered—just for a heartbeat—before she forcibly pulled away. The ghost
vanished, but the scent of ozone and Dammassine clung to Zareen’s sheets.

---

The next day, Zareen inally awoke at last. Gastel waited eagerly for Sasin to release the
woman from her mechadendrites. He leaped into the room as soon as he could,
embracing the recovering pilot, gently enough to not wound her further. Talleia followed
soon after hearing the news, bringing some extra dessert from today’s cantine meal to
celebrate the moment. To everyone’s shock, even Bellegymere appeared, mechadendrites
twitching and spiraling around him—he made it clear he only came to inspect the state of
the pilot, making sure the Knight’s ‘heart’ was safe and sound. Everyone accepted his
excuse, going along with his emotionless charade, the Magos Errant had his pride to
maintain after all.

It was a brief moment of reprieve for the retinue, embers of Herculaar’s loss still burned
in their hearts—to lose another would have been devastating.

Amidst it all, Zareen wondered to herself… was that dream real? During her sleep she felt
a presence, soft, fragile, vulnerable—the voice spoke of a tale long past, could it have been
Lilith? Tried as she could, dream or reality she couldn’t say. She felt sadness, regret, and
something she’d hadn’t felt since those youthful days on Onerth – love.

Should she ask Phoebe directly? Would she even be truthful? So many questions that
troubled her mind. Her thoughts suddenly were cut short by the alarm blaring into life,
lights turning red—danger.

“Throne, what’s going on? We have to go, sorry Zareen!” spoke Gastel, swiftly leaving for
the bridge, with the others in tow. She remained alone but not defeated, even if Sasin had
told her moving was prohibited—she was stubborn and determined. With great pain, she
lifted herself off the bed with one arm, her other being strapped tightly to avoid
movement, and slowly made her way down the corridor, leaning on the wall.

The bridge was filled with life, servitors, naval personnel and serfs alike all ran like ants
trying to get to their tasks. The sound of clattering machinery as cogitators churned out
information was ever present. Phoebe stood by, staring into the void, her mind deep in
thought at the current predicament. The retinue inally arrived, Talleia taking immediate
command “Report!” she barked.

“A unknown cruiser left the warp and has been making its way towards us, it has been
transmitting its ID codes but…”

“Speak, don’t mince your words.”

“It’s a ship affiliated with House Valenmour.”

A chill fell through them, Valenmour? How did they find them? And why communicate?

“As you’re now aware we have ourselves a mysterious foe that wants to talk. I’ve ordered
for an astropathic message to be sent.” Lilith’s words were stern but also curious, thanks
to the mind-link she was personally aware of the Archenemy’s quest. However due to the
warplame incident, they had not been able to hear the full conversation, lacking
knowledge of Terhil’s lone adventure.

“Lady, they are hailing us.” Interjected the communications officer.

“Duty commands us to destroy them—but for all we now the entire leet is waiting to
pounce on us.” The Inquisitor thought out-loud, inviting suggestions.

“This is most likely a trap! We can’t trust these corrupted fools!” roared Gastel.

“I agree… Helmsman, ready ship for emergency warp transit—and communications, open
a channel.”

Gastel shook his head at Phoebe “This is a really bad idea.”

“I second him, I don’t like this one bit.” Added Talleia, the others remained silent.

“Objection noted.”

Several long second passed without a word as communications channels opened between
both vessels.

Suddenly a sharp voice erupted from the vox, Lilith quickly recognized it as Terhil
“Greetings dear Inquisitor Phoebe I believe? I don’t want to make a mistake now that
we’ve met twice.”

Lilith’s posture became tense, her arms crossed with her ists clenched—he knew of their
psychic intrusion. Most likely Khamosh was with him, she felt an immensely powerful
psychic presence emanating from the Chaos vessel.

“What in the Throne’s name does that mean? Met twice?” Whispered Gastel, Talleia quickly
shushed him silent.

“Yes you are correct, Terhil Myrlaugur. State your purpose swiftly, an Imperial Flotilla is on
its way as we speak.” She tried as hard as she could to maintain her composure in her
speech, conidence was crucial.

“Oh you wound me Inquisitor! We’ve only just gotten to know each other—but if you
really wish to rush, I am here to make a deal.”

“A deal? With a man corrupted by his ambition and who’s made a pact with a daemon?
You think of me as a naive child.”

“I won’t deny what is true… but please let me explain further my Lady: a flotilla the size
you’ve rarely ever seen is on its way to this very system—and this one is real. I regret to
announce your little message in the warp will not be reaching its destination.”

Phoebe’s spine shivered, her grip around her rosette tightened, he had seen right through
her. She felt disarmed, vulnerable—not like how she felt around Zareen, but dangerously
naked, where every instinct in her body screamed to run.

“Now yes my ultimate goal is to capture the exquisite Knight in your hold but there is
something else I must achieve irst: my dear brother, Antonius, current monarch—he must
die, preferably by my hand.”

Wrestling every muscle in her body, Lilith tried to keep her outwards composure and not
let her speech betray her: “That’s your deal? Help you bait Antonius to kill him and we go
free for now?”

“The short form, yes.”

“And what confidence will we have that you will uphold your end of the bargain?”

“Well obviously because the play is far from over! We are merely in the second act—
claiming the grand prize now would ruin everything. No no, you have my word that
freedom will be yours once the King’s head reaches the loor. Our time will have to be at
another hour.”

Phoebe fell silent, options were limited. With the threat of the incoming leet, even if they
led they would not be free for long… However aiding Terhil could prove disastrous, with
him at the head of House Valenmour the entire sector could be set ablaze, the man was
clearly insane. With no help on the horizon, she needed to make a decision now.

“Zareen! Throne what are you doing here?!” yelled Talleia, spotting the woman. Step by
agonizing step, she dragged herself forward, gripping consoles and servitors alike for
support.

“This seemed important.” the pilot speech was strained, physically exhausted from the trip.
[Anger! Frustration!] Sasin screeched in binary before scolding the woman “I told you
you needed to rest! You cannot be out of bed Zareen!”

“My oh my!” the vox erupted, “Do I hear the last of the Batal lineage? How I’ve longed for
this moment! To think fate would grant me your voice before your sight…”

“Silence everyone! Terhil you only speak to me and me only.” Lilith’s voice erupted in
anger, her eyes spitting lightning. The air itself turned to frost, crackling with static—
crewmen recoiled as their breath fogged mid-panic. Somewhere, a servo-skull shorted out
and crashed to the deck in a shower of sparks.

“That truly breaks my heart—what is wrong with wanting to reunite with family?”

Feeling the situation slipping out of her control, in a desperate measure she decided to
follow instinct rather than reason “Terhil—I accept your proposal.” Phoebe’s gamble was
a dangerous one, they would be allowed a short term victory but at the potential cost of
everything she has worked towards.

The silence that followed was thicker than void-cold steel. Even the ship’s hum seemed to
mute itself, as if the Omnissiah Himself withheld judgment.

She might have just signed the death warrant of trillions across the sector. The members
of her retinue reacted silently, Gastel’s face showed incomprehension, Talleia’s was dark—
having made the same thought process as her superior. Sasin and Bel remained
motionless, their mechadendrites curling inwards, they would follow the Inquisitor into
the maws of hell itself with utmost loyalty, even should the programing screech otherwise.

Zareen however showed sadness, a deep profound sorrow at the path Lilith had taken.
She did not blame the Inquisitor, even without an af inity for psychic telepathy she could
tell the desperation in Phoebe’s heart had overtaken her. She knew the battles ahead
would prove tougher than anything Bel’s simulations could throw at her—if she wanted
to take out Terhil, she would need to be stronger than ever before.

---

It had been an hour since the exchange, Phoebe sat at her work desk staring intently at
the dataslate containing additional information and instructions for the planned regicide
that Terhil had sent. ‘It’s too late for regrets now…’ she thought to herself.

Abruptly the large door slammed open, Gastel marched in “Are you insane? Have you lost
your mind?” making his voice be heard throughout the gilded room.

“First you’ve supposedly already met and now a deal with that heretical abomination—I
will not stand by this!” he continued, his knuckles cracking under the strain of his grip.

“Gastel please, karking calm down before you burst a blood vessel. I’m deeply sorry
Phoebe, I’ve been trying to make him understand—“ Talleia ran behind him, trying to hold
him back with a hand.

The Inquisitor sighed deeply, she expected this “I’ll let this insolence slide due to the
circumstances—“

The militarum man cut her off, tired of her professional cold demeanor, his voiced
boomed out of his chest like a leman russ’ howitzer “For Throne’s sake that’s not the
problem here! I’ve pledged my loyalty to you because I believed you would chase evil
until the deepest depths of the warp, that you would never stray! Today I’m not so sure
anymore…”

“Sableshank” Phoebe’s voice echoed psychically, The air itself seemed to vibrate as her
voice tore through his mind, not with sound but with raw will. “What would you do in my
place? Would you follow your guardsman training—attempt to blow apart the enemy’s
vessel with every weapon aboard?”

“Yes! They are the Archenemy! They are rotten, they are corrupted, they are vile and
disgusting, only through death shall we communicate with them.” He answered swiftly,
conident in his dogma.

“And what about the greater daemon aboard that ship? Do you believe our guns will have
any effect on it?”

“What? A daemon?” I don’t understand.”

“Precisely, you don’t. You don’t have every piece of information, you are not aware of how
dire our situation is.”

“Well of course then-“

“Then what? Flee? They have inally caught up with us. How? I do not know, what matters
is if we do not address the issue at hand, we will ind ourselves crushed and attempting to
breath in the cold vastness of space. Is that your plan?”

“Well—I don’t know but we can’t accept. They’re the enemy!’ Gastel roared. ‘You don’t
parley with cancer—you burn it out!’”

“Then death will be our fate then. You’re right.” Lilith got up from her chair, chin high and
stern.

“Wh—what?”

“Talleia, order the crew to prepare for an overload of the ship’s core.”

“Yes my lady…” answered the Captain, her voice shaking at the prospect. Talleia’s hand
hovered over her vox-bead, her usual crisp cadence broken by a half-second hesitation.

Gastel’s voice had faded, his conidence broken “I don’t—why are you doing this?”

“This is our best course of action is it not? We cannot make a deal with the enemy and
there is no escape, thus as is our duty to the God Emperor of Mankind we shall face death
before dishonor.”

Suddenly the lights switched to a crimson red, alarms roared all over the ship and the vox
came to life “Core Overload in Progress // Time till meltdown approximately 15 minutes”
the message repeating itself over and over.

“Lilith Throne! I’m sorry, stop this please!” pleaded Gastel, his voice shaking with regret
and guilt.

“Do you see now, Sableshank? Her voice was a scalpel, laying his conviction bare.

His knees hit the deck with a thud that echoed louder than the alarm, he was practically
groveling “Yes For Emperor’s sake! I’m sorry for letting my emotions run rampant. I
wasn’t thinking correctly, I resorted to my gut judgment and I was wrong. My trust
wavered in the face of things I didn’t understand. I deeply apologize, it will never happen
again I’m sorry Lady Phoebe, please.”

Lilith let out a short sigh “Talleia belay that order.”

“Yes at once Lady Phoebe!” instantly she transmitted the new commands to the crew,
canceling the destruction of the ship, silencing the alarms.

“Now, important matters await me, you are dismissed.”

Gastel got up slowly, regaining his composure “Yes—Lady Phoebe.” His face was a ruin—
devotion cratered by shame, the rubble of his certainty ground to dust under her heel.
Both retinue members proceeded to leave whence they came, Talleia holding the man by
his shoulder. The door hissed shut, sealing Phoebe in silence. Only then did her ingers
unclench from the edge of the desk, leaving behind ive perfect cracks in the adamantine
veneer. The dataslate’s glow painted her face in corpse-light. ‘No turning back now,’ she
lied to herself.

---

The medical bay’s door opened, and with it came Phoebe, dressed perfectly like a crystal
in the snow.

The Magos Biologis was already attending to Zareen when she arrived, “Have you come to
scold me as well Lilith? Sasin has already been tearing into me for the past half hour.”

“Justly so! Your little escapade tore open nine suture points and added a dangerous strain
to your shoulder, a fool would say you have been very lucky today.” Quipped the
techpriest, her mechadendrites spiraled around her in frustration.

“Not quite, but I trust you have learned your lesson at least.” Phoebe continued into the
room, grabbing a small chair by the wall to sit next to the medical bed.

“Yes I have—I apologize Sasin.”

“Good, I shall take my leave then. However young one, if this happens again I will
personally make sure you spend the next solar cycle scrubbing this room.” Her vox
continued in binaric as she left, no doubt hurling words too crude to it on a report.

They both watched as the techpriest closed the door behind her, hissing into frame and
hearing faint explicit binaric speech coming from the corridor. Zareen swore she heard
the words ‘rust-licked’ and ‘ungrateful leshbag’ in the noise.

“It’s rare to see Sasin with such animosity—she only does that for people she cares for.”
Spoke the Inquisitor, removing her coat to reveal a high-collared black bodysuit, its severe
lines doing little to disguise her gauntness. The golden rosette at her throat gleamed like a
guillotine’s edge against her pallor.

“I did it because… It felt like I was being pulled there, my neck twitched with anticipation
of what awaited me.”

“Ag’Dresil most likely reacting to the arrival of our new unlikely allies.”

“Probably yeah…”

“We can talk about that later, for now I wished to speak of the upcoming operati—“

“Did you really come into my room while I was sleeping?” interrupted Zareen, deciding to
put Lilith on the spot.

“I—“ she paused for a second, her pale face blushing ever so slightly as memories of the
event came back. “Yes, I did visit you—I thought it would be easier to simply…—“

“You were just too embarrassed to tell me this directly weren’t you?” teased the pilot, they
had grown closer as Phoebe opened herself more, to the point where the psyker felt
comfortable letting her guard down momentarily.

“Fine yes. It wasn’t exactly a story I enjoyed recounting…”

“Well thank you for sharing it, I found it very sweet of you.” A smile sparked itself across
the woman’s face, Lilith reciprocated with a smile of her own, much lighter but still
sincere. “You? Almost married?’ Zareen wheezed. ‘Did they mistake you for a normal
person? Here I thought Lilith far too prude to ever do anything.”

“Yes in fact, I wasn’t always the ‘cold witch’. I have experience—there is a lot you don’t
know about me” she tried to regain a sense of conidence and pride, even in vain details
that sparked amusement. “And what about you, your report doesn’t mention a single
romantic venture, did Onerth lack any interesting boys?”

“Eh—well girls actually… But not really, everyone there was content with their lives as
simple farmers, cooks, butchers, scribes and any other boring job. I wanted more—to live
off-world, to see the stars.”

“Oh—you never mentioned that in your report.”

“Should I have?” scoffed Zareen

“Not particularly, just an observation.”

“So you know what kind of person you need to send if I need to be seduced to give away
conidential information?” added the young woman with a laugh.

“Yes exactly.” Laughing alongside her, “Though, now that you are traveling the stars—how
do you feel?”

“Well I would’ve preferred it to be under better circumstances… and maybe without the
piles of reports to ill in—but it’s magical. I always stop by the observation deck to stare
into the sea of stars, or to watch the planets below with their different colors and
geography. It’s so much more than I could’ve ever imagined from my little place at the
farm—but it has also been a very dif icult journey. Pain and tragedy are aplenty, horrors
beyond comprehension roam the stars, and I feel powerless at their immensity at times…”
her expression had morphed into a saddened retrospection, her free hand drifted to her
bandaged shoulder, fingers brushing the wound beneath. Then moving that hand by
placing it on Phoebe’s that rested on her thighs “But—I am not alone. I have people that
care for me, protect me, and even scold me a little when I tempt fate too much.” Her smile
returned faintly. “And I have you, my dear Inquisitor, a caring angel always looking out for
me.”

“‘Angel?’ Phoebe’s smile turned wry. ‘The Ordos has another name for creatures like me,
Zareen. Angels don’t drown worlds in fire because a ledger said to.” Pausing to reset her
thoughts “ But I am glad you have found a place for yourself, every one values you as an
essential member of this retinue—and as a friend. And…” she paused, taking the time to
prepare her sentence “as I mentioned while you slept—you are very important to me.
Even if my reason, and training tell me otherwise, I can’t help but find myself enjoying our
time together.”

“Throne you’re going to make me tear up.” Giggled embarrassingly Zareen, wiping her
eyes swiftly before tears fell.

In a rare moment, Lilith left her chair and embraced the tearing woman—long seconds
passed as silence reigned. For a heartbeat, Zareen felt something wet on her shoulder
sweat or maybe a tear? Before she could tell, Phoebe had withdrawn and returned to her
chair.

“I—“ blurted Zareen

“Anyways let us get to the matter I wished to speak to you about. I trust you’ve read the
dataslate?”

“I—uh—sorry, yes I did.”

“Good, as you’ve seen this will not be easy. You are to be the center piece—pretend ight
Terhil and bait Antonius into a duel, then rising from his orchestrated ‘demise’, Terhil
swoops in and slays the king.”

“Considering my current condition, I’m not looking forward to it” bringing her hand to her
wound once again, its pain still stinging sporadically.

“We allegedly have three days before the leet arrives, if the man’s word is to be trusted.
Sasin will try her best to mend your wounds in preparation for your fight but you must be
ready for the worst.”

“Lovely…”

“As for the rest of the Court I am not entirely conident in Terhil’s assessment that they
will fold and follow him.”

“Agreed, reading his brief report on them tells me at least one will seek revenge. If had to
guess it would be Reeta, her devotion due to her insecurities will make her forget about
their hierarchy. Meanwhile Kurernias seems too stuck in his role to break his chains.”

“Interesting thought process… we should be prepared for any eventualities however. Be
ready for anything out there Zareen, even betrayal…”

“Are you sure I have to be alone down there? I’d feel less anxious if at least someone was
with me.” Her hand gripped the bed’s sheets tightly as her heart rate became elevated.

“I’m afraid so—Terhil wrote explicitly that you must be alone.”

Zareen sighed, mind racing as she tried to prepare herself for the fight ahead.

Phoebe continued “Worry not, I believe in you.”

“It’s just—the weight of everyone’s lives rests upon me.”

“Welcome to the job.” Chuckled slightly Lilith, trying to raise the woman’s spirits

“Right, you feel this every day—then I have to uphold my Knightly honor, I will do my best
my Lady.”

“My Knight in shining armor.” wheezed the Inquisitor, covering her mouth. “But I am glad, I
have faith in you—never forget, the Emperor protects.”

“The Emperor protects.” Echoed Zareen with a slight smile.

---

Three days later

The great maw of the transport opened, revealing a desolate landscape. The world was a
study in monochrome death—every inch smothered in volcanic ash. Terhil had chosen the
furthest planet in their current system due to the privacy it afforded, it had been
abandoned not less than a decade ago due to dangerously unstable volcanic activity—for
the upcoming regicide it was perfect.

Once the ramp had fully lowered, Zareen took one deep breath and set forth, the reborn
Alekto striding carefully as it prepared itself for battle. The air reeked of sulfur and
scorched metal. Ash clung to the Knight’s joints like grasping dead fingers. Sasin had
patched the pilot up as much as she could given the time constraints—even giving her a
mechanical brace to help alleviate the upcoming strain. The ancestors themselves were
wary of tempting fate with the devil, but they still understood the situation, there were no
other options.

The transport swiftly closed itself again and departed, leaving the Knight and its pilot
alone. Almost no wind registered on Zareen’s instruments, only the slow rainfall of ash
showed any movement on this desolate world. With each step, a lurry of ash lew into the
air, as she continued onto their rendez-vous, Voltstina came into view—targeting sensors
immediately offering a firing solution to the perceived threat. It was Terhil’s Knight, known
by the Imperium as the dreaded Desecrator pattern of Chaos Knights—armed with a
lethal laser destructor that could pierce some of the mightiest shields and armor in the
galaxy, and paired with a devastatingly abhorrent thunderstrike gauntlet, the once mighty
gracious weapon now a corrupted vicious claw made to tear apart adamantium. Its
carapace bore a handful of corpses sporting various lethal wounds, somehow their
decomposition had been frozen in time—just as their deathly expressions.

“Welcome my dear Lady Batal, are you ready to dance?” voxed her opponent, his voice
oozed with sadistic pleasure.

“If by dance you mean remove that pitiful grin from your face—then yes.” Alekto stood
before the Chaos Knight, weapons ready to draw blood and machine oil.

“A dagger to my heart! You wound me young lady.” Zareen gave no answer, remaining
focused on her assignment. “By my estimations, Antonius should arrive in about twenty
minutes. We have detected his fleet exiting the warp just moments ago.”

“Good, the sooner this is over the better.” Her hands ached around the controls, each
finger a steel cable stretched to snapping.

“I would rather relish in the moment, and enjoy this exquisite appetizer.” He laughed
sinisterly, sending a chill down Zareen’s spine.

“Don’t forget your role Terhil, I win this fight.” She added sternly, not giving any ground tothe monster ahead of her. Distant tremors shuddered through Alekto’s feet—the planet’s
molten heart stirring beneath them.

“Of course, I wrote the script after all! Still we can have a little fun can we not?” Instantly
Voltstina fired its lascannon at Alekto, slamming into the ion shield as energy rippled
across the barrier. Before the smoke had dispersed, the enemy Knight leaped at her with
its claw ready to strike. Zareen reacted instinctively, placing herself to parry with her
warblade before slamming a burst of bolter shells into her foe’s side.

“Well well well, the child has teeth!” snarled the vox through her ears. Countless hours
training, exercising, and preparing herself were finally bearing fruit—the Knight had
become an extension of her body, she moved effortlessly avoiding the madman’s assault.
Yet she did not deceive herself, he was merely toying with her.

Their spar continued as Terhil’s unwieldy Knight was trampled on by the much nimbler
Cerastus Pattern. Using her agility and speed she kept herself ahead of his every move,
dodging swings and using her ion shield to block the laser fire. She carefully chose her
bursts of bolt ire, being entirely alone she would rather keep her ammunition for
Antonius who would not be holding back. Despite outwards victories, her brace whined in
protest with every parry. Fresh blood seeped through her bandages—Sasin’s patch job
failing under G-forces.

Long minutes passed as the metal giants clashed, ashes lying outwards under their heavy
steps—Zareen had damaged several portions of the Voltstina, no critical systems but
enough to give an outward appearance of heavy damage.

Finally breaking the clouds was a large vessel, a transport much larger than the one that
carried Alekto—its colors a glistening blue. Landing not far from the duo, its gigantic ramp
lowered, revealing the Knight they had been waiting for—Apsinthaeus, Tyrant of Monarch
Antonius Myrlaugur. To its lanks, Sapphire Slaughter of Lady Reeta Nassek, and Radaryin
of Lord Kurernias Nassek. The Court had arrived.

With all pieces on the board, Terhil and Zareen acted out their final performance:
Voltstina charged at Alekto one last time, opening itself up for the warblade to thrust itself
into the main chassis—piercing much of the Chaos Knights and wounding the pilot.
Voltstina collapsed in a shower of sparks, its claw twitching in mock-agony. Terhil’s final
vox transmission gurgled artificially: ‘A… valiant… strike…’

Zareen carefully removed the sword, basking in her kill as she turned to face the new
arrivals.

“Have you come to face me? The Coward Antonius! Traitor to the Emperor!” she yelled
over the vox, taunting him into a duel. Her grip tightening with sweat, she was terrified but
resolute, she could not fail now.

Apsinthaeus’ warhorn screamed across the wastes—a sound like daemons laughing
through shattered teeth. “Do my eyes deceive me? Terhil fallen at the hands of the Prideful
Warden?” Antonius’ voice echoing throughout the landscape.

“Alekto is its name, and it will remove that tongue of yours! Now come and fight me
vermin!” she continued.

The Knight Tyrant paused, tilting its horned head as if studying roadkill. ‘First my brother,
now his pet? The Gods spoil me.” He paused in perverted joy. “So be it, you shall have your
duel Lady Batal.” With a thunderous roar, Apsinthaeus marched forward, leaving his court
behind to spectate and bear witness.

Zareen grit her teeth and prepared herself for her opponent, warblade cackling with
energy and bolt cannon spinning to life.

Comparatively, Aspinthaeus was a wholly different abomination—bristling with weaponry
and a considerably tougher shell. The real fight began.

The Monarch commenced his assault, firing its siegebreaker cannons at the charging
Alekto. Explosions rocked the planet’s surface as Zareen’s shields attempted to mitigate
the energy of the blows. Pain shot through her arm as she felt the impact—cogitators
revealed that just a single strike had greatly depleted her barrier’s power levels. A
growing worry found itself in her gut, was she outclassed?

Nevertheless she continued, reaching into fighting distance of the Tyrant. Zareen shoulder
bashed the arrogant monster to push it off balance before regaining hers and delivering a
tremendous roar of bolter fire. Aspinthaeus’ shields flickered as she kept firing, her ammo
depleting rapidly—The Tyrant fought back by firing its conlagration cannon. Armor plates
burned red hot as machinery began to melt under the extreme heat forcing her to
readjust her strategy. Frontal assault was proving too costly and yet her initial collision
did show promising results, perhaps she could use the Knight’s weight to her advantage.
Remembering her training in the ring as Gastel taught her how to face much larger
opponents, she devised a new approach.

“Already giving up? Has the Imperium’s finest already failed?” taunted Antonius, his
arrogance lead him to toy with her instead of pushing his advantage—a family trait
seemingly.

Alekto rushed in using bolter fire as cover, once practically touching each other, she was
close enough that Antonius would not have enough time to redirect his ion shields for her
upcoming strikes. Zareen moved swiftly, striking fast and swapping angles randomly to
tire the traitor out. Using her bolt cannon, she kept the Tyrant’s arms at bay, delaying its
eventual counterattacks—as long as she could keep up with Aspinthaeus and stay as close
as possible, she might just have a chance.

The warblade scraped armor, bolts and cables ever so slightly as she kept her assault—
when suddenly the Tyrant’s Conlagration arm veered out of the way ‘a mistake finally?’
not contempt with letting this opening go to waste, she pushed her whole weight into a
thrust, aiming for crucial joints that connected the arm.

Suddenly she felt her entire body being crushed by a wild knarloc, too caught up in her
strikes she had not realized the feint for what it was—now a thundercoil harpoon had
lodged itself into Alekto’s side. An immensely powerful jolt traveled through the chain and
hit the Knight, Zareen felt her entire body electrocuted as every system around her burst
into sparks. In one strike, the Knight fell to the ground, its systems fused together where
circuits had burst. The pilot strained her eyes open, seeing the looming Tyrant overhead,
its harpoon slowly being reeled back into place.

“I’m afraid our duel is over, it has been a pleasure Lady Batal but your filthy lineage ends
today.” The voice echoed through her mind, a deafening laughter ensued.

“Glory shall be mine tod—“ his voice cut short by the sound of claws tearing through
adamantium.

“It’s a pleasure seeing you too, brother.” Erupted from behind the Tyrant and with a
thunderous screech, the gauntlet closed itself, crushing Antonius in his throne to a bloody
pulp.

Reeta and Kurernias stood shocked, so focused on the duel they were that none had
noticed Voltstina rising from the dead to claim the crown.

“YOU KARKING TRAITOR!” boomed one of the Knights, charging forwards at their now
fallen Monarch. It was the Knight Radaryin, and just as the lord reached Terhil, the killer spun
around, catching the Lancer’s weapon with its claw and snapping it in half before firing
the Laser Destructor into the Knight’s core—terminating the man’s life in an instant.

Reeta remained frozen, her world shattered— the Monarch slain and now her brother as
well.

“I trust you will not follow his example.” Spoke Terhil, addressing the Sapphire Slaughter.

“Y-yes my lord.” She answered relexively, still processing what had just transpired.

“And you my dear Lady Batal, you have played your part wonderfully. I am impressed!”
adding laughter to his sinister compliment.

Zareen could barely feel her body, pain ached through her as she felt trapped in an
adamantium cage. Her heart racing, sweat and blood had mixed, her anxiety rising as she
wondered if he would betray her. With every last ounce of strength, she called out for him
“Terhil! Answer me this—why did my father not stop you.. Why after knowing of your
intentions did he do naught?!”

“Your father?” the new Monarch chuckled “Well perhaps because he orchestrated it—I
would’ve never been able to bring the Light to our House without him.”

“W-what? What are you talking about—?” her voice trembling.

“He did resist at first but eventually he understood what needed to be done. Our House
was rotting from the inside, its new Monarch a plaything for the Imperium to order
around! Once I brought him to that fateful trophy, he finally saw real power—and what it
could bring to our House.”

“Trophy? I… I don’t understand—no…”

“A prize from our battles during the age of revolt, a plate belonging to a Chaos titan that
had been brought back. It was kept in secrecy due to its—unusual nature—voices spoke
from adamantium.”

“A Corrupted artifact—“

“Precisely! From it did I see the truth, and Gregor saw it too. We petitioned to bring the
trophy out of lock and key, displaying it proudly in our halls for all to see—for all to hear…
Thus, slowly, day by day the voices whispered into our House, sedition, freedom, power.
That is how House Valenmour fell, that is how we were reborn as Knights that were
feared once again, even if Antonius was still Monarch—but these things had to be taken
one step a time.”

“You must be lying—I.. It’s not possible…” her voiced straining itself as emotions crushed
her weakened heart, but deep down she knew it was all true.

“But—as corruption took its toll, Gregor could no longer bear witness, the cost of power
was too great for him. An unfortunate weakness in his heart, instead choosing to exile
himself and repent in silence for his supposed ‘crimes’. That is the truth about your
father.”

“Father… why…—how could you…” the vox echoed with the sorrow in her voice, tears
mixing with sweat as they streamed down her face.

“A tragic tale— but I look forward to our next meeting, and this time there will be no
holding back.” Continued Terhil, Volstina marching towards the transport of House
Valenmour, once ruled by Antonius Myrlaugur. Now he was King, finally. Reeta followed in
tow, like a beaten dog too scared to react.

The ship’s ramp lifted and engines roared to life.

“Good bye my Lady and thank you for this dance.” Echoed into Zareen’s cockpit before the
transport took off. Her tongue tasted of copper and burnt insulation. Somewhere beneath
the pain, her scar pulsed – whether from Ag’Dresil or torn muscles, she couldn’t tell.

As the transport vanished into the ash-choked sky, Alekto’s surviving sensors caught one
final datapulse – a familiar energy signature lickering in the volcanic clouds above.
Someone else had been watching. The datapulse resolved into a familiar ID code for half a
second before vanishing – one that matched the energy signature of a certain Inquisitorial
shuttle.

---

The pilot’s weakened body was extracted from the adamantium cage once aboard the
Inquisitorial vessel. She was still conscious, despite her injuries—shoulder wound torn
open anew, and muscles strained beyond all measure—she still looked onwards… into
nothingness. Voices echoed around her, probably Gastel helping her march towards
Sasin’s mobile medical bed, the world was a blur, only one thought in her disintegrating
mind: “Why father…“

She felt herself being moved through the corridors as she lay in silence, Gastel and Talleia
in tow trying to reach the disassociated woman.
Minutes, hours passed as the mechadendrites of the Magos Biologis worked tiresomely to
repair the torn tissue, mending vein and muscle alike. Still not a word left Zareen’s mouth,
“Why?”

Four hours had since passed. Sasin had inished her operation, and all that remained in
the medical dorm were the ever present duo; Talleia sat next to her, her hand embracing
Zareen’s, trying to reach her friend desperately to no avail. Gastel sat by the wall on the
loor, they had taken turns speaking to the pilot, but nothing worked. “Why hide it all from
me…”

The door hissed open, it was Inquisitor Phoebe. In a rare appearance, her hair was no
longer held in her usual perfectly crafted ponytail, instead letting it fall along her
shoulders, revealing more of the slight blue strands that broke it’s empty void
appearance.

“Inquisitor…” Gastel had lifted his head to look at her. “I heard from Bel you had a… heated
talk with that monster.”

“Walls are thin apparently.” Acknowledging him “but yes I did.”

“Asked that bastard what he did to Zareen?”

“The truth—that’s what he told her, about her father.” She stood by Talleia who nodded in
recognition. “I’m afraid there is little we can do but let her process this.”

“I see… I suppose I too was pretty devastated when my mother broke the news that my
old man had left us for sunnier prospects…”

Talleia finally spoke “It hurts the most when it’s something we never knew about a loved
one.”

“Like when you told me you actually hated my singing?” chuckling slightly as he tried to lift
the mood.

“I thought that was common knowledge.” She quipped back, a feint smile breaking her
frown.

“Well please don’t try to sing Zareen back to health.” Added Phoebe, letting her cold
demeanor rest for just a moment.

“Is that an order ma’am?”

“I could make it one.”

Gastel’s laughter was dry, still it brought the atmosphere back from the brink of darkness.
The clock hit 0300, deep into the standard night. The captain spoke “Do you wish to take a
turn Lady Phoebe? I need some sleep and I’m dragging Gastel along, he’s been awake for
far too long.”

“How thoughtful of you, I’d almost believe you are courting me if you hadn’t turned me
down already.” Swiftly added the militarum man.

Talleia scoffed at the reminder, “Am I hearing this for the first time?” quipped Lilith,
apparently unaware.

“I didn’t know we had to report our romantic attempts, are they forbidden?” answered
Gastel

“No, I was just curious—but I can’t say I’m completely surprised, you do try to court most
of the women we come across, at least those your age.”

“He absolutely does.” Added Talleia with a slight wheeze.

“I didn’t realize this was Gastel-beatdown hour.”

“Alright you poor big man, no need to cry. Let’s catch some beauty sleep.” The older
woman left her chair, helped Gastel up and walked him out of the room.

Phoebe watched them as they left, her lips in a slight smile, glad her retinue was able to
maintain their sense of humor given the circumstances.

As the door closed, once again she found herself sitting by Zareen laying in a medical bed
—seemingly a recurring situation. The pilot lay still, eyes staring not at the ceiling by the
void past it. This time Lilith chose not to speak, instead she sat there in silence, looking
upon her grieving companion. She felt the sting of powerlessness, there was little she
could say to soothe the woman.

Hour after hour passed in silence, until the medical bay’s door opened once more—the
recognizable sound of mechadendrites twitching, it was Sasin.

“Well what do we have here?” her voice erupted, bringing Zareen’s attention. “I did not
mean to interrupt-“ she continued, tendrils pointing at the slouched Inquisitor, resting her
head on the bed, deep in slumber. A strand of blue-streaked hair had fallen across her
face, rising and falling with each breath – the most unguarded Zareen had ever seen her.

“Oh—I didn’t even notice.” Spoke Zareen, her voice came out cracked from disuse, tongue
sticking to the roof of her ash-dry mouth.

The Magos chuckled slightly “It is heartwarming to see her so, not since a certain stint has
she shown affection like this.”

“On a certain agriworld?” the bedridden woman asked.

“And she has shared the story? We are witnessing history being made.” Her mechanical
chuckle continued. “I am please as well that you have regained your voice.”

“Yeah—I needed… time.”

“Its alright, you deserve it after all. You have saved us all with your heroics.”

“I… I still feel like I failed—Alekto’s been heavily damaged and I was powerless… He could
have ended me were it not for his delusional antics.”

“That doesn’t really matter does it though?” We are all alive and we will see the morrow.”

“I suppose…”

“You did well Zareen, everyone is incredibly proud of you. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
Zareen only sighed in response, if she wanted to defeat Terhil she would need to become
much stronger.

“Well, I will leave you with these pills to take when you can finally get up. Once again, do
not strain yourself, let your body heal.”

“Yes Sasin, I will not repeat my previous—lapse in judgment.”

“Good. I shall leave you two then, and—take good care of Phoebe, she will need someone
like you in the coming storms.” The magos paused at the door, one mechadendrite
twitching as if to add something more personal. Instead, it emitted a soft binary lullaby
before retracting.

Zareen looked at the sleeping Inquisitor, and placed her free hand on her head, caressing
her woven hair ever so slightly as to not walk her up. “I will, I am her Knight after all.” She
added with a relaxed smile.

Her thumb brushed the still-pulsing scar beneath her bandages. Tomorrow, she would ask
about her father. Tonight, she would keep watch.

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