The wolf did not sneak up on me. There was no snatching the floor out from under me or tossing me into the darkness at random. That is not how the wolf operates. I was sitting in the living room, Bea’s head on my lap, Marceline lounging upside down on a nearby chair, Peridot assembling a new kind of Kamen Rider belt, and we were all watching Down Periscope. The crew was in the middle of singing Louie Louie when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. All at once. A low growl cut through the air. The boards above our heads creaked as something started walking down the hallway towards the stairs. Each of us turned to stare, frozen in place despite ourselves. All our powers and we were simple deer for the form padding down the stairs. It had no shape beyond darkness. Nothing to see besides burning eyes and glittering teeth. It was a cloud of predatory instinct made manifest. No… no that wasn’t quite it. My mind simply refused to take in its actual shape, to see what it actually was. It was protecting itself the only way it knew how. By blotting out the details. “Run.” Growled the voice. Blood leaked from between those teeth as if it had killed only moments ​ before. Red droplets fell onto the floor and the wall as it spoke. “Run and I will chase. Fight and you will ​ earn another breath. Kill… and you will be worthy of surviving.” There was no arguing with those words. We left everything where it sat. Grabbed nothing on our way to the door. I all but wrenched it from its hinges opening it. We tumbled out into the darkness. I didn’t fall, but somehow I lost Bea’s hand despite holding it in my own with a crushing grip. Another growl, this one louder and mixed with laughter bordering on manic glee, sounded in the air. I pumped my legs all the harder. And suddenly there was no floor to press again. No air to breathe. Cold vacuum stole into my mouth, boiled the water on my tongue and lips, and I tried desperately to grab something, anything. A little push to send me back into air and gravity. But there was nothing except the emptiness of space ahead of me. Endless, star studded void streaked with the color of far away gas clouds in shapes that beggarded describing. A fraction of a second of absolute, mind numbing chaos stole into my brain. If there had been air in my lungs I would have screamed. But it stilled the fear. I found myself breathing again. The air was stale, smelled of death and heavy metals, and I had never taken a single sweeter breath in all my existence. Mon’keigh, why is your mind so full of music? The words inserted themselves into my mind, pressing ​ past my defenses as if they weren’t there. Because they weren’t. Somehow I wasn’t surprised that the faint, constant hum of magic that normally surrounded my body anymore had disappeared. The Beast of Black wanted to see what I could do. What I had learned. An image of that dread beast stole across my mind again. I heard someone nearby curse in a language so fluid and perfect it sounded like music to my ears. I looked over and saw one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen. They were tall and statuesque. Their features could have been carved out of marble with a sharp, hawk like nose and ears that drew out to delicate points at their tips. The eyes were white within white within white. I would have thought them blind except for the way those orbs stayed trained on me. They had skin almost as pale as their eyes, but hair the deep red of freshly spilled blood. The full lips quirked upwards, along with one eyebrow, in amusement. “If I had a kill for every time I had seen that look, my name would even more honored than it is already.” Their voice echoed, literally, with power. Almost like a clap of thunder. “Which would be difficult indeed.” I opened my mouth to introduce myself, but the… Eldar? Yes, that was the word. Where had I picked that up? The Eldar simply held up one hand to stop me. “I have already gleaned anything you could say as part of your introduction. The only reason I saved you was that your mind interests me. It is so very different from those of the rest of your kind. Show me how you came across it.” The raised hand reached forwards. The lights shining on the rusted metal walls seemed to dim. It was reaching into my mind again. Searching for answers. I have lived long enough to have picked up a few tricks of my own, Eldar. I thought into that connection. ​ Surprise showed on their perfect face as I marshalled willpower to bend their mental grip away from my mind. The power was not there, of course, but I had once had mental powers of my own. And some feats took only willpower. I twisted the alien’s reach around and gleaned several tidbits of my own before they severed the connection. They, no doubt, learned much more than I had. Still, the very fact that I had been able to gather anything at all astounded them. And made them wary of slipping into my mind once more. “Warlock Carwyn.” I used their name, the fact striking them like a physical slap. “I am Yorokonde.” They stared at me for several heartbeats before an amused, arrogant smile reintroduced itself to their face. I had a feeling that was their default expression. “It has been several centuries since I have been surprised so thoroughly. You might yet be worthy of being called by your name.” That was as close to an apology to them digging through my brain as I would ever get. “Once again the future has chosen to favor me above all others. Come. I have gifts to help you survive.” And just like that they spun on one heel and began walking away. It was expected that I would follow. I could tell that all followed in the eyes of this one. He?… She?… He?... They wore arrogance like a cloak, but it was one held in place by sheer power and longevity. Their sense of age made Marceline look like the smallest of children in comparison. [-500 CP, Carwyn the Warlock] Still, lacking an alternative at this point, I followed. The corridor we travelled down had metal walls on all sides, every inch coated with rust or dust or both. Splatters of old blood blended in so well with the rust that it was hard to tell one from the other at times. There was sufficient light to see by, if barely. Fixtures set high in the walls flickered or randomly dimmed or simply sat as barely glowing squares. Strangest of all was the sand coating the floor. Hundreds of years of drifting metallic flakes had turned into a dry, red sand that swirled up with every movement. What I marvelled at most of all was the scale everything had been built to. The hallways we walked and doors we passed were all oversized by several feet. Everything was built for people who had to stand ten feet tall, if not more. And they were wide enough that three such people could have walked down it without touching shoulders. Every intersection of corridors had small alcoves, quarter-circles with just enough room for one of the giants to stand in, at each corner. At first their purpose eluded me. Then I realized they allowed one to easily lean out around either corner and see the whole hallway. They were defensive structures. Four soldiers at a crossroads could hold quite a bit of territory with them to lean behind. Eventually Carwyn opened a door similar to the hundreds of others I had seen so far and stepped inside. They didn’t touch the door, of course, but it opened anyways. I peered inside and was surprised to find the room relatively clean. At least compared to everything else. A metal slab in one corner would have made a hard, but serviceable, bed with some kind of padding on it. The Eldar pointed to the opposite corner of the room where a pile of armor and a rifle unlike anything I had ever seen before sat. “These are for you.” They said simply, eyes locked on mine. There was a momentary brushing against my mind. Knowledge planted itself there like someone shoving a seed into soil. Suddenly I knew that the armor was Mesh armor, normally worn by his race’s more common soldiers, as well as how to put it on. I also knew that the rifle was called a Tuelean and that it launched discs of metal sharp enough to slice through my own armor like butter. I sensed a bit of smugness radiating from Carwyn as I realized their own armor could take more than a few blows from my new weapon. That wasn’t even counting their considering psychic powers into the mix. They wanted to make sure that I wasn’t going to get any ideas. Not that I would have. Not right now, at least. “So why are you here?” I asked them as I moved to start putting on the armor. “This is where I am needed.” They assured me, as arrogant a statement as I had ever heard. “Look, I’m grateful you saved me an all, but I would like a few answers.” I snapped. Their attitude was already starting to wear on me. “Very well. Just open your mind to me and-” “You reach into there again and I’ll start counting in fractions.” The threat actually seemed to startle the Eldar. A frown touched the corners of their mouth. “You wouldn’t.” He countered, though some of the surety had gone out of their tone.

One, two, three and a third, four and an eighth, five and eleven-sixteenths... “Stop it stop it stop it!” The Eldar bellowed in my direction. But the pain hidden under the anger and command was obvious. “How dare a lesser being like yourself know such things?!” “This is the twenty-second world I have seen. You would be amazed at the things I know.” I managed to hide my surprise, but just barely. I hadn’t really expected that to work. It was just something I had read in a book once. I wondered how many other worlds had psychics with that flaw. Or maybe I just had a really stupid Eldar on my hands. Considering how quickly their face shifted back into that arrogant smile, it might very well be the latter. “Only twenty-two worlds? I have seen tens of thousands in my life. I had burned hundreds of worlds as revenge for their inhabitants daring to take a single Eldar life! I have-” “Yet to answer my question.” I pointed out. I pulled at the armpit of the armor. It felt like chainmail, except made out of millions of tiny plates instead, but clung to my skin like spider silk. I struggled to get my shirt not to bunch up underneath it. Surprisingly, as I thought about it, the arms of the armor stretched of their own accord and let my sleeves fall into place. Then they tightened once more. Interesting. A few years ago it would have surprised me, but after Song Science I had stopped doubting what sufficiently advanced technology was capable of. Carwyn sighed, loudly, as if I were a house pet that would not stop yapping. They waved one immaculate hand dismissively. “The runes pointed me here. To this wreck of a ship. Your mind drew me to save you from your own stupidity. And now here we are. Hurry up and finish putting on that armor. I have been without a guard long enough and it is already disdainful that I have to resort to using a Mon’keigh like yourself as one.” “Again, grateful for the rescue and the gear, but if you think you own me now I’m going to find a tender place on your anatomy to cram this Tuelean and pull the trigger.” “You’re welcome to look, but I assure you that you would not get within five feet of my regal self.” I let out a frustrated sigh as I picked up the disk throwing weapon and turned around. At least now I knew how superheroes felt. Silly and oddly comfortable. Carwyn eyed me up and down critically for a moment, then shrugged. “As well as can be expected from a lesser race.” They stood up from where they had been sitting on the metal slab of a bed. “Come. I am needed elsewhere.” “Not until you tell me what the unholy fuck is going on!” I stomped up to the Eldar, but ran into an invisible barrier a few feet away. In anger I slammed the butt of the rifle against it. The air rippled with blue and green light, but didn’t give. “I got chased from my home into this world, I don’t know where my friends are, I lost my love somewhere in the darkness, and I don’t even know if she’s alive! For all I know she’s fallen into the void like I did!” I rammed the gun into the invisible barrier several more times. Cracks appeared in mid-air, spreading faintly with each blow, but it did not shatter. Finally, I stopped and just leaned against the psychic barrier, glaring at the impossibly arrogant space elf on the other side. But, surprisingly, their face wasn’t smiling anymore. Their white in white eyes stared off into the distance, into the past, and pain radiated from them. They blinked, turned away, and reached for something at their belt. The barrier fell away. I staggered a few steps, but managed not to fall over. “If you give me a few moments, I will cast the runes for your friends and your love.” Their voice was soft, and sad, and quiet. It still radiated power, but now it was that of a pouring rainstorm instead of thunder. They did not look at me, instead kneeling in the metal dust in front of the slab bed. The runes were a number of incredibly intricate marks made into small pieces of metal, bone, and crystal. Some of the bones looked human. The process itself just appeared to be the Eldar throwing the pieces randomly onto the metal, picking up certain ones, then throwing them again. The intense look of concentration on their face told me there was much more to it than that. It was obvious they believed the runes worked as some sort of precognition ritual,

but whether that was the actual case… I guess it depended on the local magical physics. It could be accurate or complete bupkis. But, I wanted to hope they were all right. So I waited with baited breath as if I believed. It took Carwyn almost ten minutes to finish their ritual, but the pain and anxiety had faded out of their eyes and face when they turned to me. “Your allies are safe. They are not aboard this vessel, but orbiting a star far away from this empty bit of space we drift through. You will be reunited.” Their words seemed sincere, almost seeming to come from another person. I had a hard time seeing the arrogant Eldar who had initially saved me in their face now. But, slowly, that punchable smile appeared once more. “So you are free to act as my guard Mon’keigh. Come. I feel a presence inviting us. We must see what it wants.” I just frowned and followed the being out of the small room. I didn’t entirely trust them. They seemed to be as mercurial as their gender. Still, they were an ally, at least for now. Without my powers I knew I would sorely need one. I would punch them at some point though.

Empty corridors greeted us with more metallic sand and the echoing sound of our own footsteps. In certain rooms the ceiling disappeared into the darkness where distant lights more closely resembled stars than anything else. We travelled a path that was at best confusing and at worst labyrinthian. I was soon lost and wishing for Marceline’s marvelous map. Doors large enough that I could only oggle in disbelief pulled themselves aside as we entered with deafening screeches of metal. At first I thought it was Carwyn pulling the doors aside with their psychic might and guiding us. But then we reached an intersection with nothing but closed doors on three sides. They seemed confused, looking from one door to the other. After a moment the one to our left ground open. They strode through it with the look of a cat that had totally meant to fall off the table on its face. They had mentioned something was inviting them. If that was the case we were certainly taking the scenic route. It took us an hour of walking to reach a section of the ship where I could hear signs that it wasn’t completely dead. Machinery still lived. Massive, rumbling monsters that made the deck shiver for hundreds of feet in every direction. I asked the Eldar what the first few of them were, but they didn’t know. Oh, they claimed they knew, they just weren’t telling me because it wasn’t important. Which meant they didn’t know. Another hour walking past machine giants led us into a more intact section of the ship. Carved wood panelling suddenly lined the corridors with remnants of banners or silken tapestries hanging here and there. At one point we passed through a cathedral that would have done credit to one of the Neo-Gothic architecture geniuses on Earth. Except I doubted any of them had conceived of a house of worship on such a scale. Tens of thousands of the giants that should have inhabited this place might have just started filling the space. The eyes of the gargantuan statues lining the walls seemed to follow me as I walked. A clever architectural trick. Carwyn gleaned the thought and asked me, with a chuckle in his voice, if I was so sure about that. But they hushed any response from me. Not all of your Gods are as peaceful as the one on the ​ Golden Throne. Then they stretched their long, shapely legs and hurried through the space. I would have ​ smiled at their calm anxiousness, but frankly the space felt alien to me as well. Beautiful, but strangely powerful. One last grinding lift up three levels let us out into a large, glass domed room. No, not glass, screens. Viewing screens of such high quality that it was next to impossible not to tell them from the real thing. I only could because one of them flickered into static every now and then. Cases of weapons and armor taken from hundreds of battlefields and representing dozens of different races lined the walls. Everything from giant sledgehammers to pistols of impossible sizes and even exotic weapons that looked too fragile to even fire was represented on those walls. However, dominating the center of the room was a massive throne of steel and wire and tubes. Every inch of it pulsed or flickered or undulated. A desiccated body sat on its seat, the focal point of all the machinery. He breathed in long, raspy sounds that made it sound impossible he should take another one. But

he did. One after the other, as if refusing to give into the death that hung so close to him. Or, I realized as I gave the throne another look, perhaps he simply couldn’t give in. “Ah, fellow travellers… of the void.” Impossibly, the dry lips cracked opened and a voice issued forth. It was a thin, reedy whisper that somehow seemed to cross the distance easily. Each pause between words was punctuated by a gasp for breath that was not unlike a drowning man’s struggle for air. “Newly arrived… on this ship and… luckier than the… others.” He gestured with one hand, skin flaking off his wrist as the joint moved. Several screens to our right changed to view interiors of the ship. They were surprisingly clear for the age of the ship. A creature straight out of a horror film, all chitten and claws and gore, wandered down a hallway only to be crushed by a falling metal strut. An humanoid alien in brightly colored armor holds up a four fingered hand in greeting. The pale skinned mutants were not nearly so friendly. On another screen a creature more machine than flesh was having its spider-like metal limbs torn off one by one by three hulking brutes. I turned away when I saw the human face in the next one. I did not want to see what happened to her. Thankfully there was no sound. “How many did you call?” Carwyn’s voice was accusatory. As if he was insulted that he wasn’t the only one summoned to whatever this was. “As many… as would come.” The enthroned man answered. Before my ally could ask another question, he continued. “I am… Lord-Captain Draken Grigobretz.” He drew himself up a little straighter. Dust flaked in a small cloud around him. “I command this vessel. The Light of Terra.” The name meant nothing to me, nor Carwyn, but the Lord-Captain was more than happy to explain the ship’s history. How gloriously it had defended the Empire of Man until it had become lost in the Warp. Rusting away inch by inch as the madness of the Warp held it like a plaything. How the once proud Imperial Guard regiments had broken down, become savage tribes fighting over the steadily dwindling resources aboard the ship. Most of all he spoke of his last duty to this ship. To see it safely back to port. He refused to let himself die until that duty was fulfilled. But the Light of Terra was broken, battered, and needed to be repaired before it could dare the Warp for one final leap home. Now that it was free of the Warp, it could be done. “I am no Bonesinger.” Carwyn asserted. They didn’t even bother looking in my direction. I would have been insulted if it hadn’t been so clear I didn’t know anything. “Those aboard… know all that is… needed. They only lack… leadership. They have… long since… stopped listening to me.” “Trapped as we are, I guess we have no choice.” Their offhand remark confirmed one thing. The Eldar had no way off this ship either. Which was why they was hunting for allies. Or at least those weak enough to be bend to their will. I wasn’t entirely convinced the two weren’t one in the same for them. “I’d be happy to help.” I chimed in. White eyes traced onto me. That couldn’t possibly be respect in those snowballs they had for eyes, could it? They snorted loudly as they gleaned that thought. “Of course not. I was just admiring how foolishly you leap to help those you know nothing about.” The Lord-Captain seemed to find this exchange vastly amusing, issuing forth a sputtering, stalling chuckle that was not entirely indistinguishable from coughing. His arm left the throne enough to gesture towards the trophy cases on the walls. “My treasures are not... what they once were… but you… are welcome… to any that still… function.” I offered him a respectful bow and shifted my gaze to each weapon in turn. The ancient warrior told brief snippets of each weapon I stepped in front of, including how he had defeated their previous owner in single combat. While they were merely interesting stories, I felt them resonate in my mind. A few sentences filled my head with visions of extensive, life-threatening battles against singular foes. I glared over at Carwyn, who just smirked back at me and placed one finger over his lips. It appeared he was raiding the Lord-Captain’s brain as well as his treasury.

[-650, Marksmanship] I already had a, quite frankly terrifying, ranged weapon in the Tuelean, so I focused my attention on the melee ones. While there were many of these still in fine working order I did not want to appear greedy. Besides, I only had two hands. Wearing half a dozen weapons would only slow me down. Eventually I found myself looking at an axe hanging next to a helmet eerily similar to the one Carwyn wore at their hip. The only difference was that it was decorated with gold and black colors with emerald gems. “Ah, so you’re the one who killed her?” Carwyn has slipped up beside me as silently as anything and nearly made me jump out of my skin. I had last seen them on the other side of the room. Their tone sounded regretful, but not angry. Draken launched into another tale about how he had personally led his troop down onto the planet the Eldar were holding fast. I barely listened, because my companion started telling their own story. “She was kind once. Soft and gentle as a flower’s petal. But I think we all were then.” They weren’t sad, not exactly, or mad, or any of a dozen different emotions I was used to hearing when someone talked about a loved one who had passed on. Instead they were holding themselves together with bands of steel. A fierce, ridgid control had taken hold of them. “She loved the stories of peace and dreamed of a day when Eldar and Mon’k-... Humans would put down their arms. But then they killed her mother. Trapped her father inside a suit of wraithbone. It would still bring her flowers sometimes. When it remembered who it had been.” “Her axe was a thing of beauty on the battlefield. She burned tens of thousands where they stood.” Carwyn’s eyes found mine and they burned with an intensity only equalled by the runes glowing with the light of a sun on the axe’s side. “If you pick it up, promise me you will remember her with each swing.” “What was her name?” I asked as my fingers reached to grip the handle. He walked away without telling me. But I promised to remember her all the same. [-800, Fire Axe] As we turned to go, one last object caught my eye. A palm sized gem so deeply green it looked black except from just the right angle. A smooth orb that teased and tantalized me, though I could see no reason why it should. I went to put it back on the shelf only to find that I could not. I could move my arm away from myself but I could not convince the fingers to unfold from around it. I have sealed all that you once were within this gem. The growling voice appeared only in my ​ own head, but from the way Carwyn looked over in alarm I knew they could hear it as well. Break it and you ​ will be whole again. But know that if you do, they die. And a world burns. I looked over at my ​ ​ companion and, for a few seconds, considered it. A dark little voice asked why I should care about one life or one world if it gave me back everything I was. They saw that thought as well. I slipped the gem into an armored pocket of the armor. Inside my head the black voice howled in ecstasy. Or in horror. I could not tell which. Carwyn kept themselves banded in iron. Their usual arrogant smile replaced with a deadly calm. “You considered it.” They accused. “Wouldn’t you have done the same in my shoes?” I tossed back. For just a few heartbeats, I let the Eldar into my mind. They could not resist the chance and dove inside. Searching for answers. Searching for what I had just given up. I fed them some of the answers before shutting myself up again. They could have pressed the issue and stayed, but pulled back instead. Letting me have my privacy. For now. If what they had seen disturbed them, it was not enough to break through the stillness. “You are either a fool, a madman, or the bravest of your kind I have ever met.” They muttered. “And only time will tell which.” I grinned back at them. It was enough to let them ease that mask of pure ego back on. “I suppose I will have to keep you alive long enough to find out which it is then.” “Careful, that was almost pleasant.” “My honor has never been more insulted.” The Lord-Captain once again broke into a round of his coughing laughter.

[-600, Enemy Clan: Pale Sons] [-400, Enemy Clan: Redeemers]

What followed was neither entirely interesting or unexpected but it was time consuming and bloody. Our course of action was clear. We needed to rally the tribes, get those that would work together to do so, and make enough repairs to the Warp Engine and Gellar Field that the ship could survive the flight to port. Lord-Captain Draken assured us that once we reached our destination, the shipyard would have everything necessary to refit the ship. Given enough time. So we set about doing just that. It took weeks of travelling from one end of the ship to the other to visit each of the tribes. We were forced to climb in places because lifts were out, or sabotaged, or circle around large sections of the ship that were open directly to vacuum. There were also the assaults by the scattered Pale Son clan members. They were a ragged group, attacked almost strictly in ambush fashion, but were quickly driven off my a combination of my weapon prowess and Carwyn’s talents. I’d like to say we bonded during that time. I’d really wish I could say that after surviving so much together and tending each other’s wounds we became friends. Instead we barely managed to keep from killing each other when we weren’t given other targets. Carwyn took to scrutinizing and criticizing basically everything I did with every spare moment we had. If I killed twelve savages driving off their latest ambush, they demanded to know why I hadn’t finished off four more. They would tell me that they certainly could have done it themselves if only they weren’t burdened with protecting my life. They would have held their gun closer and locked their elbow to allow the armor to absorb its recoil for better aiming. Or they would have swung the axe with more finesse, letting the blade and fire do the work. If they hadn’t been such an asshole about everything I would have thought they were trying to give me advice. Also, I discovered they were still toying about with my brain in the most roundabout way. They didn’t change anything major or attempt to force me into performing specific actions, though more than once I knew it crossed their mind. No, instead they gently clouded over the details of their own gender in my mind. I know I saw them naked on more than one occasion. Carwyn was been stabbed high on the thigh at one point and I had to stitch them together. Pants were removed. I was intimately close with their genitals in a way that was awkward for both of us. But even with all that, I could not for anything remember what gender they were. Carwyn found this vastly more amusing than raiding my brain for secrets. Doubly so when they realized how flustered it made me. They even took to removing entire sections of their armor for “maintenance” whenever we found a decent hole to rest in for some rest. Just to tease me with the unknowledge. They did use their talents for more constructive purposes at times. The Redeemer clan proved to be hostile, so he reached into their minds and turned their anger towards the Pale Sons instead. The other tribes simply stood back and kept out of the way as the two truly barbarian clans tore each other to pieces. Then we all moved in to pick up the pieces. Given the talents of the four other tribes and no real competition to speak of after that, we led them towards fixing enough of the ship to make it fly one last time. The Void Walkers helped us find shortcuts between sections of the vessel we had thought closed off forever. The Kin of Iron knew the secrets of coaxing the machine spirits back into life through a combination of religion and science that was wholly incomprehensible to me. The Wargars and Aquil Lejens contented themselves with flushing out the last Pale Sons from their hiding holes. I did, very firmly, split the Light of Terra into two distinct territories first. The two were far too eager to spill each other’s blood lacking other targets. It took almost two months, but eventually, the last light on the Gellar Field turned green. The Warp Engines lurched to life. Rusted particles of metal plumed up in every inch of the vessel. Like a dog shaking itself after a sleep so long it had grown dust bunnies. The Gellar Field crackled to life, encased the ship in a rainbow of energy. Then the universe outside changed. The rainbow became opaque to shield us from the insanity just beyond.

But for just a moment, I saw. And the Warp, the Chaos, the insanity that was hidden just behind the veil, looked back. Four sets of eyes every bit as hungry as the Beast in Black’s own fell upon me for that instant. They had noticed me. And then the Light of Terra was back in real space. The familiar void between stars. The ancient shipwide radio crackled to life. There was a space station out there. It had been waiting for us just like the Lord-Captain had claimed. We were expected, eagerly, and it was already accessing the repairs the vessel would need. The pair of us, along with the leaders of the four tribes, made the long trek up to the Captain’s throne as the ship slowly maneuvered itself into port. Lord-Captain Draken Grigobretz lay slumped in his chair. The mechanisms no longer chained him to life. But his withered, desiccated face was set in a contented smile. His last duty had been fulfilled and he allowed himself to rest. The tribal leaders offered their respects to the corpse, as did I. Surprisingly, Carwyn also joined in, pressing two fingers to their forehead before touching them to those of the corpse. “If there is one thing the Eldar respect, it is commitment to duty.” They stated after a moment of silence had reigned. Then they strode off. I followed after the green robed figure, marveling at just how much of the cloth had been stained red in the last weeks. “Where are you going?” “I am needed elsewhere.” “So that’s it? After everything you’re just moving on?” My voice was more accusatory than I really meant it to be. I was rather hurt that they were just cutting and running. They didn’t stop, but there was a measure of hesitation in their steps. “You, of all people, should be aware that sometimes it is necessary.” We had reached the lift, but their words stopped me just outside of it. They turned and looked me up and down. Somehow there was a feeling of finality in that gesture. “Fate pulls me according to its own plan. Still, it was an… interesting experience. Farewell Yorokonde.” The doors began to slide closed. Grating metal nearly drowned out their final words. “I will, of course, be taking one of your shuttlecraft. I doubt I will return it.” The doors shut. “Asshole.” I muttered at the empty hallway. Then I started laughing.

When I discovered that Bea, Marceline, and Peridot were on the ancient repair station, I displayed levels of public affection that made the tribals behind me fidget. I didn’t care. I was just happy they were all right. Peridot was rather surprised to find herself included, but not entirely displeased. Though she did call me an idiot afterward for being so emotional. After all, hadn’t they rescued me how many times already? What was one more? I couldn’t stop smiling enough to play along. The Hephaestus Orbital Repair Platform was a marvel of engineering on par with the Tower itself. But it’s advanced age and lack of maintenance meant many of the systems it had aboard would function only one last time. The repair systems were, thankfully, the most robust and would hold millenia longer given the barest of attention. A terraforming system was also included. It sat at the base of the platform, already working on converting the planet below into something other than a hunk of barren rock. Unfortunately, Peridot had gotten a couple of wires crossed restarting everything. We should have had control over what the system was turning the planet into. It could have been an eden unlike anything seen since Earth was an untouched paradise. But instead, it decided to poison the well instead. I suggested pulling the plug when I saw what was was happening, but Peridot insisted doing that could very well explode the planet. Or turn it into a sludge ball. So we let it work. The result was… unpleasant.

Atmosphere: Toxic [+2 TP] - The very air itself is so laced with heavy metals and poisonous ​ compounds that it causes severe lung damage to pretty much anything that breathes. Full atmospheric gear is going to be required during the early days of colonization until domes, filter systems, recirculators can be put in place. Terrain: Mountainous [-1 TP] - Okay, strike the dome idea. Tunnels are the wave of the future. We’ll ​ build directly into the mountains themselves. It’ll be far more defensible that way, but we’ll also have few places to run if we do get attacked. Then again, it’s a poisonous rock ball. Who would want to attack that? Flora and Fauna: Scarce [+1 TP] - I don’t know what we were really expecting, but there’s not a lot of ​ interesting plants and animals here. Underground caves are pretty much the only place life had managed to find a foothold. Mosses and mushrooms run rampant near cavern entrances, filtering the deadly atmosphere into something barely breathable but no less dangerous to one’s health. It’s just that instead of your lungs bursting every blood vessel you’ll get lung cancer five years later. Deeper underground, generations of moss and mushrooms living and dying has created a kind of soil for more complex plants to take root. At least, wherever there is water. Depressions have become glades of flowers glowing from their ingestion of faintly radioactive metals. Insects have also cropped up. Moths acting as pollinators and spiders feeding off them, along with several kinds of beetles maintaining the soil. Unfortunately, beyond that there is not much life to speak of. Food stores on the Light of Terra will last for some time yet, but our diets will be very uninteresting. And even after that mostly vegetarian in nature. Special Resources: Geocore [-2 TP] - Looks like there was enough in valuable resources even before ​ the terraforming that someone invested serious time and technology here. Someone mined a shaft almost to the core of the planet, then set a mind bogglingly large thermal generator inside. In keeping with what I’ve learned of this universe, they then set an even larger plasma artillery cannon on top of it. Surprisingly, it’s all completely functional and with a little work we can even access the aiming of the artillery from the space station. At least energy and airspace superiority aren’t problems we’re going to have to worry about.

I promptly named the planet Bob. Really, it’s the only sensible thing one can name a planet. The girls groaned and protested, but the Tribals all loved the idea. It was such a simple, easy to remember, and fun to pronounce name. Plus, it sounded great as a battlecry. “FOR BOB!” They’d scream as I packed them off in spacesuits to go bore tunnels into the mountains around the Geocore device. Thankfully the atmospherics of the unit had been designed for something normal enough that it kept the toxic atmosphere of the planet from murdering us. The Geocore was the only reason we didn’t spend the entire first year in space. It still wasn’t all that pleasant though. It was built with efficiency in mind, which meant tight corridors and small rooms. But thankfully we numbered in the thousands instead of the millions the place was designed to hold. So we knocked down dividing walls and eventually turned it into something a little more livable. At least we never had to worry about running out of hot water. The Kin of Iron handled much of the technical work, assisted by Peridot. She asked as almost as many questions as she answered but inside of a year you would never have guessed she wasn’t a techpriest herself. The Void Walkers stayed with the Light of Terra to assist in its repairs. They distrusted solid ground after so long clinging to the edges of space. Meanwhile the rivalry between The Wargars and Aquil Lejens slowly morphed from murderous to something more akin to the fans of two rival sports teams. They hurled insults freely, but all sat down together to drink at the end of the day. I was named the Governor of the Planet of Bob. The tribal leaders got together and voted on it while exceedingly drunk, but they all claimed the vote was totally valid. They even found me a Commissar’s black and red hat from somewhere deep in the Light of Terra’s storerooms. I thought it looked rather nice on me.

When it came to building a society from the ground up, I reached the limits of my knowledge as soon as we had installed the first set of air recyclers. So I learned what I could from Bea, Peridot, and Marceline. Their experience in those years working with the Tower, its citizens, and Viela ensured each of them had something they could teach me. They all teased a little about the master becoming the student. But I goodnaturedly took those lumps. Peridot taught me a lot of the simple lessons about caring for a society. The tunnels we made to escape the poisonous fog was really not that different from those the Tower made to keep out the Fog of Death. Roads and tunnels to link the various cave systems were vital and had to be sturdy enough to withstand obscene amounts of punishment. Always at least two tunnels connecting each major section.. Always install emergency airlocks on new tunnels. And plan for growth. We had men and women among the tribes, and that meant children sooner rather than later. [+1000 CP, +600 CP Total] [Skill Gained: Civilian Infrastructure, -100 CP, +500 CP] [Skill Gained: Transport Networks, -100 CP, +400 CP] Marceline, who had been closely involved in the Revytails of the Tower, helped me plan out the healthcare system for our little society. While we didn’t have to worry about plugging crystals into people to keep them alive there were plenty of mundane concerns to think about. A hospital was set up and clinics littered the residential areas to help deal with more common injuries. It was strange to think we had competent doctors mixed in with the tribals, but the Aquil Lejens proved they had kept more than simply the old military traditions alive. [Social Structure Installed: Healthcare, -200 CP, +200 CP] Bea’s lessons were more practical in nature. She had been given little to do outside of her own experiments in the Tower, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t learned anything from earlier worlds. New Vegas and the Brotherhood of Steel had taught her just how valuable a small, but advanced, fighting force could be in a primitive world. She assisted me not just on the ground, but by making overtures to various trading guilds in nearby sectors. They brought goods and services to trade for our wealth of minerals and chemicals. But most importantly they brought weapons. [Armament Upgrade: Military Modernization, -300, -100 CP] Of course, I didn’t need everything taught to me. Certain lessons I had learned ages ago and only needed a refresher course in. When pirates managed to sneak their way onto our port, killed several dozen people, and tried to escape with everything they could get their hands on, I grabbed every able bodied hand. We collapsed tunnels and used the rubble to create cover on the last route to the port. We had barely enough time to toss everything into place, but the strategy worked perfectly. The ambush combined with our cover ensured we captured or killed every last one of them. The three survivors were caged and hung next to each of the passages leading out of the area. Future traders got the message. We had few problems after that. [Strategy Learned: Defensive Tactics, -300, -400 CP]

The anniversary of our inhabitation of the planet of Bob came and went peacefully. Traders had finally stopped slapping on massive “hazard rate” fees onto every transaction with our little port. The first major crop of food had been harvested, which mean eating something other than ration packs once the first batch of tofu had been made. That might not sound exciting until you had been eating ration packs for a year. And we had just received word from the Void Walkers that previously inaccessible parts of the Light of Terra had just yielded two Imperial Transport ships and one Battleship, each of them intact. Which meant we were no longer beholden on traders coming to us. It was a great way to start the week. Then someone jumped onto my back while I was getting undressed for bed. They wrapped their arms and legs around my torso like some kind of monkey and clung. My bare back instantly felt sticky from the contact. It was like getting bearhugged from behind by a licked popscile. One that smelled entirely of bacon.

“Hwe have cap-toored hyu fhor Kay-oss! Hyu mhyust sub-hmit to whor wheel!” The small, girlish voice screamed from behind me in the most annoying accent I had ever heard. [Author’s Note: I’m not going to try to ​ keep writing her accent. Mostly because it’s annoying to even write. You’ll just have to imagine it.] They ​ attempted to shift their grip on me, so I used that moment of distraction to lunch backwards and slam the figure against the wall. They cried out in pain, released me, and I threw myself away. “Owwie! You were supposed to submit to Chaos!” It was… a young girl. She couldn’t have been older than fifteen. She was dressed in rags that looked suspiciously like one of Bea’s better nightgowns, except she had used electrical tape to hold the ripped pieces of cloth together. It had also been used to decorate her bare midriff with an eight pointed star. Then I noticed her eyes and realized she had seen far more than her form would suggest. I knew of Chaos, of course. The traders from other worlds talked about which legion of the Imperium of Man had just had a traitor turn up in their midst and which worlds were currently falling the might of the cursed Chaos Marines. I had been trying to learn what I could about the presences I had felt in that other slice of reality. Much of what I had learned was unpleasant. The rest of it was downright disturbing. “I don’t know what kind of trick this is, but I’ll never join Chaos.” I announced firmly as I wondered if I could get an alarm off before the legions behind this one stormed the planet. “Awwwww!” The girl breaking into a pout and whining was not what I had been expecting. Fire, brimstone, torture, sure… but this? “Come on! Chaos is fun. We have cookies.” She said the last as if cookies were the holiest of creations and I should be honored to even be considered to receive one. “I… what? No!” “Not even for cookies?!” She gasped, shocked to her core. Then her face broke into a devilish grin. “So it’s something naughty then? Is that what it’ll take to convince you?” Her hands reached up to the electrical tape and began peeling strips away. It didn’t take much for the top to become barely decent. “No! Nononono! A thousand times no!” I yelled at the girl, but she just seemed to take my protestations as a challenge. She was barely half-dressed when someone knocked on my door. “Oh by the Nine please come in and get this crazy person out of my room!” I shouted towards the door. It burst open. Carwyn, resplendent in a new set of green and white robes, this time decorated in diamonds instead of rubies, leapt into the room and quickly took in the scene. Their eyes took in me, shirtless, and the girl, who was still removing strips of tape, as well as the Chaos star on her belly. Before they shifted back to me. Their concern melted away in an appalled, and somehow hurt, stare. “Consorting with Chaos?” They accused me. “I was only gone a year.” Their eyes flicked back to the girl and flared with light. Green and blue energy wrapped around her and propelled her through the wall out into the corridor beyond. The wall was several inches of reinforced concrete. The blood splatters on either side of the hole made me fairly certain they had just killed the crazy person. “It’s not like I invited them in! She snuck into my bedroom and attacked me while I was undressing.” I grabbed my shirt off the floor and quickly shrugged into it. “Such demons often take the most seductive forms for their intended victims. Pulled directly from their secret desires.” The accusatory tone still laced their voice and flared the fire in their eyes. “I’m attracted to a lot of things, but that is hardly one of them.” I said defensively, peering out the hole. There was definitely a blood splatter in the middle of the street. The guards normally stationed near my residence were already calling for reinforcements. “I’m glad to see you.” By the time I looked back, Carwyn’s face had softened slightly. “I find myself similarly pleased that fate has returned me to your side. You have done much in just a single year.” “Looks like you’ve gone up in the world a little too.” I gestured towards their outfit. “Baubles really. But it’s expected of an Eldar when-” A roaring sound all but literally shook the air. Both of us turned and looked outside again.

The insane, still half-dressed, girl was riding on the back of a massive scaled creature that was not terribly unlike a slightly smaller T-Rex. She had even found a saddle for the thing. The guards were very busy pissing themselves. “What… the fuck?” I was literally dumbfounded by what I was witnessing. “Where did she get the dinosaur? Why is she still alive? WHERE DID SHE GET THE DINOSAUR?!” “Ah.” Carwyn actually looked a little ashamed as well as horrified. “I may have brought you a present to help you celebrate my glorious return.” I sighed, screamed several more profanities into the air, and stomped out of my room to deal with the chaos of Chaos. I did not get much sleep that night. And not for the reasons I would have preferred.

Carwyn did not just bring a dinosaur, supposedly a mount but I was doubtful, with them when they returned. They also brought news and warnings. They had been granted the title of Farseer upon their return and only recently completed the final rites to confirm them. Their first vision had been a strong and demanding one. They had seen me as a whirling nexus point of futures of the universe as a whole. They did not share all the details with me, but they were certain that if I did not have correct guidance going forwards I could be the cause of untold suffering. Their predictions had rarely been wrong and I had no reason to doubt them. Especially not considering what I was. It only confirmed what I had suspected already. This universe was going to be home for quite a while. They also brought a small contingent of Howling Banshees. And while they were only three squads of ten, Carwyn assured me they were each worth three dozen of my tribal warriors. They did amend that to a single dozen once they saw how thoroughly I had upgraded their tactics and weaponry. Which was the closest thing to praise I had yet heard from them. The insane girl was a problem. Carwyn assured me she was most certainly of Chaos, but a weak manifestation of it. The girl had no name that she could remember. So I just started referring to her as Cultist. She seemed delighted with the “name” and took it up instantly. Cultist was a strange creature even by Chaos’ standards. She could not be killed, a fact repeatedly proven on a weekly basis, and was inept at everything that wasn’t sneaking up on me or causing trouble. She refused to leave when asked politely, commanded, or even begged. Even when I paid a crew of grey market traders to take her off-world and dump her somewhere she would never be found, she somehow appeared behind me the next day. I later heard that the ship she had been on exploded, then caught fire, then melted. In vacuum. After that I resigned myself to tolerating her presence. She wasn’t interested in actively sabotaging my world or my efforts to improve it. She would leave me alone for a few hours if I asked her too, though she usually caused problems somewhere else in the meantime. But she was irrepressibly fixated on turning me to work for the forces of Chaos. She didn’t even particularly care which of the Four Ruinous Powers I picked. Just so long as I picked one. From whining and seduction attempts she moved on to trickery. After that came the offers of bribes, both in fantastic powers and material wealth. Then she attempted to kidnap Bea and hold her hostage. Which was a bit like a kitten trying to kidnap a saint bernard. Once she had exhausted all manner of mischievous ways to force me into joining her attempts died down a little. Instead Cultist began lecturing me on how the Four Ruinous Powers are not nearly so bad as their names suggests. That they are, in fact, vital aspects of the universe and psyche of every living thing. That is was quite possible to use their gifts, abilities, and aspects for the betterment of mankind. Honestly, the calm lecturing was more terrifying than anything she had done up until then. Mostly because some of what she said made sense.

Between all this, our colony continued to grow and expand. I forced myself to make time to stop and enjoy some downtime with Bea, Peridot, and Marceline. Each of us were even more busy than we had been with the Tower, but it was a good kind of busy. A gentle, warm happiness that we were all working towards something greater even though we missed out on the small moments sometimes. Carwyn stood aside from the workings of the community, despite being invited to fill whatever position they preferred. They were always willing to advise when I asked but did not get directly involved. So time continued to tick forwards. In my room sat three trinkets only I could move. The Stone, as silent and dim as I had ever seen it, the Gem, where the Beast locked my past, and the Seed, where Vielia hummed in her sleep. Yggdrasil was the only one unaccounted for. But I didn’t worry about him. Out of everybody following me around, he needed my help the least.

[Preemptive Retaliation Gained: Sword Class Frigate] [The Litany Gained: Imperial Transport] [The Lapsed Pacifist Ganed: Imperial Transport]

“You cannot hold me forever.” The dark, twisted, insane voice gasped. It’s body shivered and twitched as muscles spasmed of their own accord. I need not hold you forever. You need only make the promise. “I will not! His head must adorn my wall!” The screeching tone it used was somewhere between a proud demand and an irritating whine. Then I will hold you a little longer. The form suddenly burst into a fit of rage and reached to tear at the intruder. But just as before there was no flesh to dig fingers into. One of his robotic hands slashed through the spectral form and went limp. Disabled. “You cannot do this.” Pleading crept in now, pride hiding itself as its list of injuries grew ever longer. I ask for so little. A handful of targets removed out of uncountable trillions. “And how many more added before all this is done?” Few enough that it should make no difference to one such as you. “Fine. Fine. You have your promise. Release me and I will turn my eyes elsewhere.” The spectral voice didn’t respond. It simply left the lump of flesh and shadows to tend to its wall of skulls.

“Well Carwyn. This is a fine section of empty space you’ve dragged us out to.” Sarcasm dusted my words as we both gazed out the view screens of the Preemptive Retaliation. “It looks absolutely nothing like the empty sections of space we just spent a week travelling through. I’m very happy you dragged me out here to see this specific shade of dark space.” “Strange. The Runes would not be wrong.” The Farseer pressed their face closer to the screen, ignoring me entirely. As if their proximity and sheer concentration could allow them to pierce the blackness around us. “I cast them several times to be fully certain.” All this had started with a garbled transmission received from a seemingly empty hunk of space. There was little sense to it. Words and videos were layered on top of each other hundreds or thousands of times until it all just became a blast of noise and static. But here and there words lined up. Every voice somehow managing to say the same phrases at the same time. “... SOS… boarders stripping… disabled… mayday… anyone…” But we were a full week of hard travel out from where the signal had originated. I was already dismissing the event as subspace interference or warp shenanigans when Carwyn had demanded the transmission be replayed again. I had no idea why. There was nothing we could do from so far out. The unlucky crews were either already dead or would be before we got there if they existed at all. But the Eldar had the message replayed a third and fourth time. I waited to see what they made of it and resisted the temptation to ask what they heard with their elven ears. “The Gateway of the Damned.” They whispered the words with a mixture of horror, greed, and reverence. When I failed to act appropriately awed, they looked at me as if I were a particularly stupid dog. “The resting place of a million million spaceships. Wrecks from across time and space pulled around a star that is forever dying but refusing to completely do so.” I had never before seen Carwyn display desire, but I knew it when it took root in their eyes. “I must consult the runes.” Which, barring a week’s travel on the Preemptive Retaliation accompanied by the transport ships, The Litany and The Lapsed Pacifist, brings us up to date. “You can’t promise a girl adventure like that and not deliver.” Marceline half-complained, half-teased. She had taken a liking to Carwyn. They were exotic, new, different, and that always interested the vampire. The Eldar did not seem quite as keen on their attention. Or perhaps they just didn’t know what to do with a devoted pleasure-seeker on their heels. “There is something here. I know it.” They continued to insist, gripping the console in front of them so tightly I could hear metal warping. “It’s okay to be wrong once in a while.” I told them. To which the universe responded by opening a massive portal in space ahead of us to a pocket of time and space normally cut off from the rest of the universe. One with a star on the verge of collapse at its center. Carwyn simply looked in my direction and looked as smug as anything that had ever smugged in the history of the multiverse. I refused to give them the satisfaction of looking embarrassed, instead tossing out orders for the Void Walkers to start checking on the stability of the anomaly. I would have dearly liked to have at least one real Navigator or Astropath aboard. But psychic ability was the one talent the tribal clans hadn’t been able to supply. So we had to make do with best guessers and guys running on instinct. Admittedly they were good at what they did… as long as you didn’t ask them to prove their math. After an hour of spirited debate, they reported that the portal would remain open for about two weeks. Which, considering the size of ships in this universe, was barely enough time for a smash and grab. Still, we were already here, we had ships with empty holds begging to be filled, and Marceline was chomping at the bit to see some kind of action. So into the portal we went.

The sun wasn’t stuck on the verge of becoming a singularity. I don’t know how I knew that, but something deep in my bones told me just how wrong this section of space was from the first moments I saw that black sun. It emitted an odd, violet colored light that dyed everything into shades of black or vividly glowing purple-whites. The sun was literally emitting ultraviolet light instead of anything normally on the visible spectrum. My stomach rolled and threatened to rebel at the odd visuals, but I forced it back into place. Three planets lay trapped around that cursed orb. They were nowhere near each other, separated by wide swatches of space and two massive metallic belts. No, they weren’t simply metallic rocks. They were destroyed ships. Vessels from all ports, from all races, from every corner of the galaxy in numbers so vast that even if I had been given decades and the entire Imperium behind me, I would have only made the barest dent in the resources found within. Carwyn pointed out a tiny remnant from an Eldar Craftworld. I didn’t know enough about ships to tell any wreckage from any of the rest of it. But here and there I spotted pieces that could have belonged to the Preemptive Retaliation. Marceline was the first to spot the flare of orange and crimson from one wreck caught in the outer belt of debris. So we travelled towards it, pushing the magnification on the view screens to their limits. A heavily pixelated ensignia slowly came into focus. It was painted large as one of our transports on the side of the ship. Carwyn snorted derisively, then identified the ship as belonging to the Adeptus Sororitas. The Sisters of Battle.

Warrior nuns who practiced everything from diplomacy to assassination to pitched warfare on par with the Space Marines. The Eldar saw them as little more than a nuisance They lacked the technological might of the Space Marines or the sheer numbers of the Imperial Guard. As we continued to close in on the vessel, the lights began to resolve themselves into flames jutting from the craft. Gasses leaked from a thousand tiny holes. But not all of the lights were coming from holes in the ship. Some were dancing around the craft like lazy fireflies. Marceline, Carwyn, and I all leaned close to the screen trying to understand what we were seeing. Then we realized. We weren’t seeing a salvage operation. We were seeing an entire force in spacesuits dismantling the ship while it still lived. Then they noticed us. Fireflies started streaking in our direction. A bigger prize had been spotted and they were eager for our riches. [Skirmish with the Hollow Men: +400 CP, +0 CP] I didn’t hesitate. The ship was thrown into reverse to buy a little time. I ordered our laser batteries to begin firing, only to be told the systems refused to lock onto such small targets. So I yelled at them to fire wildly anyways. Every bastard they hit was one less to deal with on our end. But I told them not to hit the Sister’s ship just in case there were survivors aboard. Then I told all available hands to prepare to take the fight outside. The transport ships had already fled the battle by the time Marceline, Carwyn, and I led our fighting men out onto the surface of the Preemptive Retaliation. Fighting in the vacuum of space was a startlingly different experience from fighting in atmosphere. All the millions of sounds of other battles weren’t there. I was locked in with only the sound of my own breathing competing with comm chatter. The suits were equipped with thrusters so maneuverability wasn’t the issue so much as fighting in all three dimensions. I realized only after I had screamed out a warcry and leapt towards the invaders that I was terrified. When was the last time I had been truly afraid for my life and out of my depth? I remembered the cave and its hole with a hungry entity within. I remembered sacrificing Alexander to save the small town from mind-rending monstrosities. Men screamed and died as blazing torches and hydraulic claws meant for ripping apart ships cut through armored spacesuits like butter. I lost track of Carwyn first. His halo of green and blue psychic energy flared out in branching strikes of lightning that split the heavily armored scavengers like eggs. Marceline stuck with me for longer, wielding a pair of Power Swords and using the lack of gravity to become a spinning dervish of destructive fury. But even as hard as we fought to stay close, the press of battle forced us apart as men died. My axe blazed with the fury of the sun even in vacuum, igniting the dark armored forms with the slightest of knicks. Then two bodies slammed against each other. The swing I had been intending for a chestplate instead connected with the oxygen tank. My whole world exploded. A hissing sound filled my ears momentarily. Suit seals struggled to compensate. I felt my ears pop, then pop again. I was hurtling through the void of the blacklight sun. I saw metal come up. Tried to slow myself. But in my moment of panic I succeeded only in adding more momentum. The pain of impact. The second thud as my forehead hit my own faceplate. Blackness surged up to claim me. I fought it, but it took me anyways.

I came to with my head ringing and a hundred small noises trying to invade my head all at once. Cloth shifting, metal scraping against metal, the pages of a book turning, and someone whispering. The voice spaced its words oddly, clumping two or three together in a rush before pausing for a breath. It almost sounded like a prayer. “LordEmperor guidemyhand. Bythepowerof basilandointment.” I groaned as a hand slapped against the bare skin of my chest. A thick oil splattered across my skin that was already tacky with the substance. The voice, a woman’s, broke off the strange chanting and started another one. “Awake! He’sawake! Awakeawakeawakebythepowerof-” She broke off and took a loud, gasping breath before continuing in a whispering hiss. “-ointment.” I wondered if I had been taken by the pirates as I opened my eyes.

A woman, a true, powerful female in every sense of the word, towered over me in a suit of jet black power armor. Her hair matched the armor so exactly that for a moment my bruised brain thought she had a hood of some kind on. Her face was a wide heart, her eyes an icy, dangerous blue, and the scar over her right eye lent her face a dangerous cast. The monocle seemed a little over the top to me. Until she smiled. Then it all solidified into the picture of a confident commander. “Commissar, welcome back to the waking world.” She said as she took off the monocle to give it a brief polish. In the momentary pause, a pixie of a face pushed itself into view only inches from my face. I mostly saw wide, staring, green eyes that did not seem to blink. The pupils were not the same size either. The one on the right was wide and almost blocked out the emerald color, while the other was barely a pinprick. “Isaved yourhat. Iputitthere. Themost importantplace.” I had the feeling she was gesturing with her hands, but with her so close I couldn’t see anything but her stare. I could feel where she had placed my hat. And it was the only thing preserving my dignity at the moment. Not that I doubted everyone in the room hadn’t already peeked at least once. After far too long a moment, the woman in black armor pulled the crazy person away from me. “You will have to excuse Initiate Lina. She is an excellent healer and will one day make an exceptional Sister for one of the Orders Hospitaler. But her zeal to find new and better ways to heal does sometimes get the better of her.” The monocle had been replaced. Initiate Lina grumbled a strange cadence of noises that sounded a little like a war dance, but turned around and began fidgeting with the contents of a few sacks. One of them was wiggling. “I apologize for my rudeness. I should have introduced myself. I am-” “I don’t mean to be rude, but can I have my pants back?” I interrupted the woman before the speech could really get going. “I try to make it a habit to learn people’s names with them on.” The frown the woman gave me told me she was not used to being interrupted. Or much enjoyed the experience. “Unfortunately, your pants… disappeared in transit.” There was a glance towards Lina who was busy pretending we didn’t exist. Or maybe she wasn’t pretending. “Okay then.” I sighed the words out, frustration and headache making my voice a little harsher than I would have liked. I looked around the room for a moment for something to cover myself with. But unless I wanted to start stripping one of the three women nearby I was out of luck. “As I was saying, I am Celestian Arlissa Val’Rayan of the Order of the Obsidian Rose.” The raven woman took charge of the conversation again with a certain amount of forcefulness. “You have already met Initiate Lina. Behind me is Initiate Fia.” She took a step to one side and half-turned to gesture towards a girl with green hair. Initiate Fia was a stout, solidly built young woman clad in flowing armor that looked like the cross between a robe and a set of full-plate. She had moss green hair was a truly unusual feature given the opinion of mutations in the general populous. Despite the introduction and two sets of eyes on her, she continued to stare fixedly at the leatherbound novel in her hands. It proclaimed itself to be a book of collected sermons by some archdeacon. She also didn’t seem to realize that the bottom corner of the book she was really reading behind it was showing. “Can love bloom on the battlefield?” the section of cover asked. ​ ​ Celestian pretended not to notice, turning back to look at me before motioning towards the door. “The fourth, and final, survivor is Initiate Cierra. She may one day make an excellent diplomat if she ever makes it out of the kitchen. She has gone off to tell your companions that you are not dead.” There was a pause and she tilted her head to the side as if listening to something. “It seems one of them is not very interested in listening.” “You’d better let me talk to them before someone gets hurt.” I struggled to my feet as I spoke. The room spun a few times. I was forced to let go of the hat and hang onto the wall behind me instead. Two and a half pairs of eyes found a singular point of interest between them. One set was entirely too close for comfort.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Cultist’s voice bounded out into the silence like a cheerful ray of sunshine. Celestian had a pistol in her hand by the time I realized the shark-toothed girl had appeared in the room. The bolt-pistol was deafeningly loud in the small space. My world erupted into ear-ringing deafness. Once again I hoped I got my magic back before I lost my hearing permanently. The bullet entered Cultist’s forehead and exploded the entire back of her head. Brains and blood splattered over one wall. A single vertebra embedded itself in the wall. The body was gone before it even hit the floor. The gore remained though. The girl’s deaths always left their mark. “I thought I told you to stay on Bob!” I shouted over the ringing. The fact that I couldn’t see her usually didn’t mean much. One that she proved by stepping out from behind Fia, despite the fact the girl was still sitting with her back to the wall. Cultist said something I couldn’t hear. Suddenly two hands clapped themselves onto my ears and jammed them full of a waxy substance. The crazy girl no doubt. But when I struggled back out of her grip and dug the greenish stuff out of my ears, they were clear. “Howdoyou feel? Nauseous? Feverish? Horny?” Lina demanded before I could speak my appreciation. When I just looked confused, she nodded as if I had given her a dissertation. “Confusionandmild annoyanceacceptable sideeffects.” I looked over to see Celestian raising her gun again. I raised my hands and waved at her frantically. She paused, considered me, but kept her finger on the trigger. “I doesn’t work!” I said with no small amount of exasperation in my voice. “She refuses to die no matter what happens to her.” “Chaos.” The head Sister spat the word as if the very sounds of it tainted her tongue. “What vile sorcery have you gotten yourself involved in?” The pistol swung around to point in my direction instead. “I’m trying to convert him to Chaos!” Cultist announced as she landed on the shoulders of the black power armor. She leaned forwards, rested one elbow on the head between her thighs, and looked at me in frustration. “But so far he’s resisted everything. Up to and including cookies. Who resists cookies? Honestly.” “Demon.” Celestian’s words carried enough fire that they could have given an albino a sunburn at a hundred yards. “Touch me again and I will transform your world into one of pain and torment that even the Four Ruinous Powers would be revolted by.” Then her gun snapped upwards and painted the ceiling with Cultist’s lungs. “Oh! Maybe I should switch to converting you instead. You must submit to our will!” I decided that I had had enough of this whole farce and walked out of the room. Carwyn was there, leaning casually against the wall opposite the door. They looked up, face impassive and blank, to my nude form, then behind me to the room. Another gout of blood erupted. This time it was pointed in my direction. I tried, desperately, to maintain a shred of dignity even as my back dripped. “I’m going to have to stop taking you places if you keep ending up covered in blood and naked.” There might have been humor behind those carefully guarded eyes. But I wasn’t in the mood to go looking. “Please tell me there are a few other, more sane, survivors?” I all but begged. They shook their head. I growled in frustration. For a moment I was tempted to leave the lot of them behind and hope they could keep Cultist busy for a few years. “Fine.” I poked my head back into the room. “If you all want to get off this scrap heap before it explodes, hurry up. If you’ve got valuables or a weapons cache or anything, speak up now and I’ll get the tribals to start moving.” “Sadly the reliquary was ripped free of the ship hours ago.” Initiate Fia spoke up for the first time. Her voice was stronger than I would have expected. “I had just gotten everything counted and organized too.” “Fantastic.” I muttered dryly. “Well hurry up before…” I looked over my shoulder to Carwyn. “The Litany.” They supplied. “The Litany is leaving as soon as I’m clean and back in proper clothes.” I didn’t stop to wait for any responses, just walked away. Carwyn trailed a few steps behind me. “An Eldar, three Sisters of Battle, and a Chaos Cultist walk into a bar…” They muttered. I glanced back and found the corner of their mouth lilting upwards. There was definite humor in their voice now.

“And the Inquisition blows up the whole planet.” I finished. It wasn’t exactly a joke, but it lifted my spirits enough that I realized I felt disgusting. “At least the one in black armor seems relatively normal.” “Seems being the operative word.” Carwyn quipped back dryly.

It took a little while under the showers before I was sure I had gotten all the blood off, but by then Carwyn had delivered a spare set of their robes for me to wear in. My spare clothes were all aboard the Preemptive Retaliation. I would have simply transferred over, but the crew warned of something strange in the void. Marceline had taken the ship to check it out. So we were on catch-up duty. There was still several hours to go when a loud knock sounded on the door of my borrowed cabin. I opened the door to find a large woman in the robe-like armor of the Sisters of Battle. No, she wasn’t fat, not really. She was certainly thick and curvy but in the way a truly strong person might be. Muscle lay under a layer of fat meant to keep those muscles fed for a while even on short rations. Or to use for bursts of intense activity. A strongman-type physique. Which, on someone as tall as she was, was wildly attractive. She noticed me looking her up and down and flushed just enough to let me know she noticed me looking, but that she didn’t really mind the attention. “Commissar Yorokonde, I hope I am not interrupting anything.” It wasn’t exactly a question. But she was deferential enough that I knew if I said she was she wouldn’t press the issue and leave it until later. “Not at all.” I replied with a shake of my head. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” I found myself smiling for no reason I could readily identify. There was just something likable about this curvaceous woman. “No, we haven’t. I’m Initiate Cierra of the Orders Famulous.” I expected a handshake, but instead she motioned to her left with the extended hand. “I have some sweets that have just come out of the oven. Perhaps we can talk over them in the galley?” Her smile was inviting but gentle. I hadn’t had anything sweet in the entire year and four months I had been in this world. Initially it was a lack of options, then it had seems an unnecessary extravagance, and finally it had just slipped into habit. So it took a considerable amount of self-control to act as if I was merely being polite when I agreed and walked behind her down the corridors. Brownies. She had baked brownies. The smell of warm chocolate was already slipping out to fill up the hallway outside. Nearly everyone that walked past on their duties walked just a little bit slower in that hallway. A few even stopped and just breathed deeply for a moment. I was tempted to do the same as soon as I caught its scent. I doubted any of the tribals even knew what chocolate was, let alone brownies. But it was a divine smell. We made small talk for a few moments as we walked. Nothing you would remember later but it wasn’t there to be memorable. It was there to fill time and break the ice. Both of us knew it and still we played the game. She sat me down at a table and went to retrieved the chocolate squares. Her hip bumping against the door and swinging it most of the way closed was no accident. The plate arrived with a pyramid of the treats. Tea, actual tea, showed up in a tall metal pitcher. I tried not to salivate noticeably. She didn’t try to ply me with more talk to keep me from the brownies. She just poured me a cup of tea and told me to enjoy both before they cooled down. So I did. So, I want you to imagine the best brownie you’ve ever had. Whether you like them dense or fluffy, dark or light, whatever. Just imagine what it tastes like. Now imagine someone spent thirty years perfecting the taste of that brownie, then poured love generations deep into its creation. That’s what I put into my mouth. I tried to chew it slowly and savor the taste, but before I realized it the brownie was gone. Cierra didn’t mock my haste. Instead she seemed proud. I took a sip of my tea before I spoke. It was just as delicious as the treat. “Can I keep you?” I asked as I set down the cup. She laughed a rolling, rich peal that was entirely too pleasant to listen to. It reached her hazel eyes and made them sparkle gold. “Usually I have to whip up a three course dinner before someone asks that.” She managed between the dying chuckles of her laughter. “Perhaps you should hear what I want first.”

“I figured you would get around to it eventually. I had just planned to enjoy sane, pleasant company and delicious brownies until then.” I picked a second square off the platter. She joined me this time, her cup filled with steaming coffee. After a few bites she nodded and started speaking again. “I’ll get right to the point then. We can dance around it and be charming all night without getting anywhere.” I nodded but let her continue. “Sister Celestain deeply appreciates your assistance against the scavengers. Despite all we lost it still could have been much worse.” Her eyes turned somber with those words, but only for a moment. “And would like to apologize again for Lina. She has ingested a few too many experimental compounds over the years. It has made her a little unstable, but she’s a genius when it comes to healing people.” “Considering the state you all found me in, I know I’m lucky to be alive. People don’t usually recover from passing with with a concussion while their suit is pissing atmosphere everywhere. So really I should be thanking you. Despite the awkwardness.” Cierra’s smile became warmer than the brownies. “We do our best to help where we can. The Empire needs hands that care much more than another set holding a gun.” The Empire of Man. From what I had gathered it was the roughly unified totality of Human civilization in the galaxy. Or, at least, the only one organized enough to span more than a single system. There was millennia of history behind it that read as series of betrayals, triumphs of the human spirit, and eternal war with one alien race or another. Sometimes all of them at once. They also clung to various versions of cult-like madness that encouraged warfare and discouraged questions. Or independent thinking. Especially thinking. Honestly, after talking to Carwyn for a while I was wondering how this Order of the Ebon Rose had even survived. But then, supposedly there was a Chapter of Space Marines who went around killing almost as many civilians as they did enemies and they hadn’t been smited by anyone yet. “That’s a pretty unique view, given what I’ve seen.” I responded, smiling to let her know I approved without saying exactly that. Cierra’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “We will have a long, and I think interesting, discussion about that. Later.” Her hand reached for a second brownie, hesitated, and refilled her coffee instead. “For now I’ll just say that our Order is pretty unique among The Empire.” A sip, then her smile faded into something more serious. “We need your ships.” “If the next sentence is ‘We’re commandeering them in the name of the Emperor’, I’m going to be severely disappointed in you.” I kept my voice calm. But I drained the warmth out of it. “Nothing so crass as that, thankfully.” Somehow I could tell she really meant that. That she really didn’t want to have to take my ship out from under me. Except, I could also tell they would not hesitate to fall back on that demand if I proved unreasonable. “We merely wish to hire you to help us search for our reliquary. The bodies of our Sisters, as well as the artifacts, aboard The Heart’s Cathedral must be recovered if at all possible.” “And the payment?” I asked because I knew that was what was expected of me. She had been leading the conversation in this direction from the start. I had a feeling she also wanted me to talk about how wealthy merely scavenging the wrecks nearby could make us, but I didn’t. And that set her off-step for half a measure. “Ah-” “I mean, your fellow Initiate embarrassed me. Not just in front of your friends, but my crew. Most would demand a hefty payment just to forgive that.” “Now-” “And then there’s the damage to my ship, loss of crew, and subsequent loss of salvaging potential rescuing you cost me. As well as renting your quarters and food for the three or so weeks until we return back to port. My my my, the bill just keeps adding up.” Cierra’s face went from calm, collected, and friendly to stern and stoney by degrees with every few words. Clearly this wasn’t how she expected this conversation to go. She was a diplomat, yes, but she seemed used to receiving a certain amount of deference from being a part of the Adeptus Sororitas.

I calmed reached out and picked up a third brownie. “But I think… this just about covers all that.” I waggled the treat meaningfully before taking a bite. It tasted just as lovely as the last two had. The words surprised her all over again. For a moment she sat stunned, then broke out into another wave of that lovely, rich laugh of hers. I luxuriated in it and chewed while I waited for her to finish. “I can tell you’re going to drive Sister Celestain crazy.” She giggled, finally taking the second helping she had wanted for a while now. “And that I still have a lot to learn.” “You did fine.” I corrected. “You had the carrot, the reluctantly held stick, but you took too long to get to the prize. And you shouldn’t have apologized again for Lina. Second apologies for past mistakes just remind the other person there was a mistake. But overall you were doing rather well.” “Commissar, warrior, diplomat… you’re a real triple threat.” She grinned and leaned her elbows on the table. I was talking to the real her now, not the politician. She could have been simply shifting gears and trying from a new angle. But her eyes didn’t seem as false as they were before. “So you’ll help us?” “We’re going to be looking around this belt of ships anyways. I can’t promise we’ll find the rest of your ship, but if we do we’ll do our best to help you recover what we can. Just help out around the ship and we’ll call it square.” I wasn’t foolish enough to try to land on any of this insane solar system’s three planets. Not when our sensors couldn’t make heads or tails of what was on the surface and there was wealth beyond counting right at hand. “As soon as we reach the Preemptive Retaliation, I’ll have Carwyn cast their runes for a general direction to start.” [Searching Area - The Outer Sea: +400 CP, 400 CP] Her smile could have calmed every fussy child within eyeshot. “We really do-” Carwyn’s voice rang out over the intercom and interrupted her. “Yorokonde, you are needed on the Preemptive Retaliation. Immediately.” They were using their bands of iron voice. “Did they turn around? I thought we were a few hours out.” “Yes, they did.” “More pirates?” “No. This is far worse.”

Marceline was waiting for us on the bridge of the cruiser with a bored expression on her face that meant she was trying not to panic. “So glad you could join me. And you brought your guests. Bea is going to be so happy to hear that.” It was dry, brittle teasing that I brushed aside. The four Sisters hung back a short distance. Their position aboard the ship was awkward, but Celestine was used to being in command and wouldn’t be left out. The Initiates followed her like ducklings. Carwyn eased through their cluster as if they weren’t there. “What is that thing?” I demanded instead of any form of greeting. My voice was a little higher than usual and contained a note of fear that I had been trying to mask. Not very well, but considering what I saw out in space through the window I believe I was allowed. [Complication - Void Kraken: +500 CP, 900 CP] “A Void Kraken.” Carwyn might as well have been commenting on the weather for all the emotion in their voice. “A creature born of the space between worlds. One that lives and dies without ever feeling the touch of atmosphere.” “It’s the size of a small fucking moon!” I exclaimed, jabbing my finger towards the main screen. “How are we supposed to deal with that?” “We don’t.” They answered. “We stay out of its way or else it eats this ship and everyone in it.” The fact that they were admitting they couldn’t do something would have topped my list for things that scared me on any other day. Now it was barely holding steady at the top five.

“I can help!” Cultist’s irritating accent broke into the conversation. More than a few eyes glanced in her direction, but everyone tried to ignore her. “No, really, I can! All you have to do is agree to serve-” There was the sound of a pistol cocking behind me. “If you get more blood on my ship you’ll be the one cleaning it up.” I shouted over my shoulder. There was a pause. I could all but hear Sister Celestine weighing her options. “In your undergarments.” I added. Marceline broke out in a smirk and looked towards the woman in black speculatively. But there was the sound of a weapon being holstered and the crew of the ship started breathing easier. My finger touched the switch for the shipwide comms, then a few more to add the transports into this broadcast. “All right everyone. This is your Commissar. You know I don’t sugar coat things for you guys. There’s a Void Kraken in this system. It’s not coming at us and seems content to chomp its way through the many, many wrecks on the other side of the dark star. We’re going to keep it on the other side of the dark star. So that means salvage operations will be smash and grabs. You see something useful, you grab it. If you can’t grab it, get a tech to take a look. We’re doing this fast and dirty. Other than that you’ve all been briefed on your duties.” There was a moment’s pause as I looked around the Void Walkers who shared the bridge. They were worried, maybe a little afraid, but determined. They had already lost brethren in this venture. Now they were determined to make it mean something. Marceline stepped forwards into that pause and screamed out our planet’s battlecry. The whole bridge roared it back at her. I had a feeling everyone on all three ships did. I smiled and flipped off the comms. “You never could end a speech on the right note.” She muttered to me, still smirking. “I’ve got to give you something to do.” I quipped right back. Carwyn just shook their head in our direction. I turned to look back at the Sisters. “Time to work for your passage.”

Salvage operations went about as smoothly as anything in this universe does. Thankfully the pirates seemed to have decided we weren’t worth the effort or cost of a second assault. So most of our problems centered around clans of survivors holed up in the larger, more intact wrecks. Some were eager to be rescued from their generations of slowly failing systems and dwindling supplies. Others were only interested in taking our ship for themselves. Surprisingly, the Sisters proved to be quite the capable unit of warriors. Sister Celestain was a force of nature all to herself. With a sword in one hand and a pistol in the other she didn’t hesitate to press every advantage she made. The Initiates, while lacking all their training, were excellent team players and more than happy to take a backseat if it meant saving others. Lina used her syringe gun to alternate shooting exotic poisons into foes and battle stims into allies. Despite her personality she never got the two mixed up. Fia was a workhouse, hauling huge amounts of spare ammo on her back for others and using her shotgun if attacked. Cierra was the least battle capable. Her rifle was simple to use, easy to maintain, and was sturdy enough to bash heads too. Carwyn used his runes and mental abilities to scout out the richest wrecks. In return, we checked out any chunks of Eldar technology we happened across for useful information or equipment. We found little of the latter but they seemed pleased with the amount of information retrieved off the few working command consoles we found. It mostly looked like crew manifests to me, but I spotted them looking over what appeared to be blueprints from time to time. By keeping the Heathen Star between us and the Void Kraken, we has very little to worry about from the beast. While that did mean that eventually our pickings became much thinner as we reached the section of the ring it had started eating from, even something so massive couldn’t find every treasure trove. Twelve days later our transports were full and even the Preemptive Retaliation was sluggishly responding to controls. The best part was that we were able to find the Sister’s reliquary. It was not entirely intact and we had to retrieve more than a few artifacts from the emptiness of space itself, but the fact we discovered it at all is purely thanks to Carwyn’s skill. The Sisters, all four of them, were pleased but somber when we discovered the wreckage. An entire section of our cargo space was set aside for the armor and weapons we stripped away from the deceased. It was not a pleasant affair, but necessary. [Item Found - The Rapture of Our Father: -300 CP, 600 CP] [Item Found - Ammunition STC Cell (Banestrike Rounds): -200 CP, 400 CP] [Ship Upgrade Discovered - Counterfire Defense System: -300, 100 CP] Installed on the Preemptive Revenge

It would still be almost three weeks before we could make it back with our heavy load of salvage. Still, the trip had been an unqualified success. We were coming home with more people than we had left with, the STC Cell we had discovered would ensure we wouldn’t have to buy ammo from outside traders ever again, and I had gotten a lovely new set of sidearms. On top of that, Carwyn and Marceline had disappeared into the ship together. So I was able to enjoy some time to myself. Sister Celestine asked to meet with me privately the day after we had put the subspace of the Heathen Star behind us. I made excuses for a few days but eventually they showed up at my door. “It has become vital that we speak to you.” Sister Celestain’s armored boot was wedged firmly in the small gap of my open door. I looked down at it, then up at those ice blue eyes of hers. I peeked out beyond and noticed Fia, Lina, and Cierra there was well. I couldn’t help but notice they looked rather worried. “Should I get undressed?” My quip wasn’t appreciated by the Sister, but it did ease a little of the tension out of the other three. “Be serious.” The ebody statue snapped back. My lips curled down into a frown. I let my fingers close around one of my new pistols. The one capable of punching holes in several Space Marine’s worth of armor. “As you wish.” I opened the door and motioned her inside. The Initiates moved to follow, but hesitated as my barred the path with the hand holding the pistol. Cierra, wisest of the bunch, took the other two by the shoulder and pulled them back. I gave them a smile, if a strained one, and shut the door. I didn’t bother with the lock. Two of the three could kick the door down in less time than it took to open. Celestaine seemed unperturbed at being denied her escort. She leaned against my desk, bolted to the floor of course, and faced me. I tried not to think about how her metal plates were biting into the wood. “So, what is so urgent?” “This ship is not yours, is it?” The ice in her eyes perfectly matched her voice. “It is, actually. The former Captain of the vessel transporting this one gave it to me himself.” “Lord-Captain Draken Grigobretz of the lost ship Light of Terra just handed over his vessel to you?” She didn’t bother to hide her look of disbelief. “I see The Order of the Obsidian Rose has a very complete set of histories. Full of lost secrets.” The fact that she knew both Draken’s name and of the ship did surprise me. So far I hadn’t met anyone who had. Not even the rogue traders had heard whispers of it, never mind its captain. “Initiate Fia has a mind like a steel trap. All she needed was access to our archives to prove it.” She pulled a yellowed tome from somewhere and set it to rest on the desk. The bright red wax seal holding the ribbon binding it had been broken in several places. “The Emperor needs his ship back.” “His royal self can come and get told no in person if he so desires.” I felt my face begin to heat as anger sped my blood. “I appreciate the fact you all saved my life, even though it was rescuing you that risked it in the first place, but I’m not handing over my ships just because you ask.” “This is not a request. It is an order from a representative of the Empire of Man.” She pushed away from the desk and stepped towards me. “I have overlooked a large number of heresies as it is.” Another step. “Consorting with the Eldar, allowing mutants onto your crew, letting a source of Chaos have free run of your ship, not to name-” Her third step brought her within punching distance. The sound of my gun barrel scraping against her breastplate and then cocking stopped her tirade. Her eyes lacked any trace of fear. I was forced to admit I admired that.

“These are my friends you’re talking about. My people. Do you really think you get to just waltz onto my ship and pass judgement on who is important and who isn’t? Those mutants are what is left of the Imperial Guardsmen assigned to the Light of Terra. Carwyn is showing the entire universe that Eldar and Humans can coexist peacefully.” The words hissed from my lips with a ferocity few ever heard. The change from my usual collected but carefree attitude struck her like a slap to the face. “We’re living proof that you don’t have to pick sides to become whole. And your first reaction to that is to shoot everyone then take our stuff? That says more about the Imperium than you ever could.” For the first time, I saw the ice melt in her eyes. Not much, just a degree or two, but I could see the doubt slip in. Cierra had told me that their order was supposed to be one of the more tolerant ones in the Empire. That they seeked to help where they could. It seemed my words had touched a nerve. So of course that’s the moment a gun barrel touched itself to the back of my head. “Could you please not shoot my superior?” Cierra’s cheerful voice interjected. I opened my mouth to answer, only to be interrupted with the sound of another gun cocking further back. “Yoro, you should have told me you were having a party.” Marceline’s joking tone still somehow carried a hefty bit of threat. Then a third gun cocked. “S-s-stop it!” Fia’s voice didn’t have much confidence in it, but her shotgun sure sounded serious. “You realize I could pulp all your minds with a thought, yes?” Carwyn’s voice wasn’t accompanied by the sound of a cocking weapon, just faint amusement. “Carwyn!” Marceline dragged out his name with exasperation. They sighed and there was the sound of energy coils warming up. “Hold it right there.” They muttered as dryly as possible. “Did you all rehearse this or something?” I suddenly shouted over the sound of a sixth gun adding it’s voice to the cartoonish antics. Everyone began speaking all at once. Lina dove into my line of sight yelling that she had just spread a powerful paralytic over her hands and she was prepared to use it on anyone who so much as moved. Then she fell over like a statue. “Enough!” I roared over the chaos. Silence reigned, even among my companions. “Carwyn, get everyone but me and Sister Celestain out of the room and keep them out. If you have to break into their minds to make it happen, do it.” Instead of an answer, there was an implosion of displaced air and then silence. It seemed they had added teleportation to their list of powers. Cultist appeared in the doorway hauling a plasma cannon sized for someone wearing full Terminator armor. How she had managed to get it all the way from the lower holds I didn’t know. “Am I too late for the stand-off? I brought a cannon! B-” The pistol in my hand was suddenly snatched away by the woman in black, pointed over my shoulder, and fired twice. My doorway and the surrounding wall was coated in crimson. “Bitches loooooove cannons!” Cultists’s voice whispered in my ringing ear accompanied by a giggle of madness. She didn’t reappear, thankfully. Rather than pointing the gun at me next, Celestine tossed it aside. It landed on the barely cushioned slab of metal that was one of the nicer beds on the ship. I let my hand rest on it’s twin at my hip, but didn’t draw it. “You… make a fair point.” She admitted, ignoring everything that had happened in the last several moments. “I spoke a great deal about cooperation but meant the words selfishly. You seemed like just another rogue trader or treasure hunter. You’re not… are you.” The last words weren’t really a question. “I’m the Commissar of the Planet Bob, rightful owner of the Gloriana-class Battleship named the Light of Terra, and leader of the free people living on both. My own interest is peace, but even I know that in this universe it can only be bought with a measure of blood.” The words contained pride without arrogance, were determined without being angry. Her icicle eyes melted a little more. “As she said, a truly good man.” Her whispered words were inaudible, but her lips were not hard to read from a pace away. Her next words, however, were not. “I will not apologize for doing my duty. I will think upon your words. But before I go, there is one more thing to attend to.” She stepped back. Her armor made a series of popping and whirring noises. Then she stepped free of the black plates while they remained standing in place. She had an easy out system built into her armor. I was confused at first, then my face turned bright red. She was wearing little more than a sports bra and a tiny piece of fabric that could not reasonably be called panties. Both were as black as her armor. “W-W-What are you doing?” I looked away quickly, but couldn’t keep from glancing in her direction. She padded towards me, her smirk a confident one. Her hands reached up and straightened my hat. Soft curves with iron behind them pressed against me. “The Lord-Captain of this ship and Commissar gave me a direct order.” She stated. There was humor in her voice even as she kept her professional air wrapped close. “The next time I spilled the Chaos spawn’s blood aboard your ship, I was to clean it myself. In my undergarments. I am simply following the orders of the highest ranking officer aboard this vessel. As any dedicated Sister of Battle would do.” She brushed past me, picked up a towel, and then looked back over her shoulder towards me. “Unless, of course, there are any other… more pressing… orders you have for me.” I did not miss her downward glance. I swallowed. Hard.

An hour later I was walking to the nearest galley, shirtless and much sweatier than the air temperature could be blamed for, when I rounded a corner and spotted Carwyn. They were in much the same condition as myself, though they were headed the way I had come. Towards Marceline’s room. With two metal cups filled with something I didn’t doubt was revitalizing. We shared a knowing glance, a smirk, and then a silent nod. I walked past him to grab my own refreshments while they headed off to continue their night. It was a rather hormonally charged two and a half weeks back to the Planet Bob for everybody.

“I won’t be staying.” Sister Celestaine told me as we were pulling into dock with the space station orbiting Bob. The Light of Terra was still too badly damaged to make deploying the ships from its bays practical. I turned to look at her, rather surprised by the sudden news. Not that we had crafted any illusions for each other about the future. But still… “I have responsibilities to my order. Especially now. There will be new Initiates to train to fill the numbers we lost orbiting the Heathen Star.” She didn’t wait for the objection that wanted to leap to my lips. Or, perhaps, she didn’t want to hear anything that would tempt her to stay. “An Adeptus Sororitas ship will be dropping into the system shortly to take us back home.” Behind her, still following like ducklings to their mother, were the three Initiates. Lina even seemed to be mostly sober for the first time since I had met her. Fia was stoically trying not to appear emotional despite the little time we had spent together. And Cierra just had her normally cheerful smile plastered on. Celestaine herself had slipped back into ice queen mode. “Well, I can’t say I don’t understand. But I do wish you would stay.” I reached out my hand and she gripped it in her own armored one. We shook like the pair of professional soldiers and leaders that we were. Then she turned and left as the Void Walkers around me reported the ship fully docked. I didn’t see her again. I did watch the Adeptus Sororitas ship, a marvelous blend of practical design and aesthetics, disappear out of our system. However, when I returned to my room to pack up my belongings, I discovered a small piece of paper on my desk. Above Celestine’s own name, she had written a series of spatial coordinates. Along with a short message. For the last truly good man in this universe. If you ever have need. Which made me smile. I only hoped I could live up to that estimation of my soul.

“If you didn’t, do you really think I’d be trying this hard to get you to side with Chaos?” Cultist sounded, for once, annoyed from her perch atop one set of shelves. “I’m pretty sure you’ve been assigned to me just to get you out of the Ruinous Powers’ various hairs.” “I’ll have you know this was a highly sought after position!” “Sure sure sure.” I waved away the girl’s further shouts of protest. “Come on. I’m not leaving you on this ship to break something. You can tell me one of your stories on the way.” “Sermons! Not stories! Damn your eyes I’m trying to convert you, not entertain you!” But she did hop down and follow after me anyways. “What’s got you all annoyed?” “I’ve been trying for a year to get you into bed and that… that… SPACE TART manages to do it inside three weeks!” “Well, just as a tip, she didn’t start up the conversation by pointing out just how many diseases she’s carrying for the glorious Ruinous Power of filth and decay.” “Grandfather Nurgle is more than just that! Let me tell you about his love for everything living.” She continued talking all the way off the station. I just let her prattle on and mostly ignored her.

Three years passed after that. I used the spoils from our expedition around the Heathen Star to grow our colony’s numbers. While several thousand people was a good start, it wasn’t enough to take advantage of this world’s resources efficiently. Unfortunately, I was forced to do this in the most distasteful way. After a brief attempt to tempt people from other nearby worlds to relocate, which was met with almost universe levels of indifference, I started buying slaves instead. I didn’t allow the slavers onto my planet, instead going up to meet them with the Preemptive Revenge and Geocore’s massive artillery plasma cannon pointed firmly in their direction. While I disliked even letting them onto my ship I had to meet them somewhere. And I wasn’t foolish enough to do it on their turf. The kinds of people I dealt with were the worst scum of the galaxy. The flesh trade is not something that anyone with a soul gets into. Still, word got around quickly that I wasn’t a man to be cheated, threatened, or blackmailed. Those who tried found their ship disabled, a gun to their forehead, and only the assurance that they wouldn’t have to watch their ship emptied of “cargo”. I did my best not to destroy ships with slaves aboard, but sometimes it proved necessary. After they were freed, the slaves were offered a choice. A ride home with a reputable Rogue Trader, citizenship on the planet Bob, or a quick death. This was not done out of cruelty or spite. Some had simply suffered so greatly at the hands of the Dark Eldar or the slavers that they wished for their lives to end. We would do our best to talk them out of that option, but it was there as a mercy for those who needed it. Thankfully, the gun wasn’t used much. Most slaves were grateful that their life of servitude was over and they were happy to discover kindness was not dead in this universe. Almost all of them chose to stay after seeing how happy and industrious our citizens were. There was the predictable spike in crime as some were unable to readjust to society and “snapped” in one way or another. When I tried to apologize to the local peacekeepers, mostly drawn from The Wargars and Aquil Lejens, they just laughed at me. They told me not to worry about it. They had been bored anyways. The odd incident kept their skills fresh. Our colony on Bob grew slowly but steadily. Our few thousand random clansmen became several tens of thousands of happy, hard working tunnel dwellers. Even the number of Eldar living on the planet grew when it became known I would offer a small kings ransom for any of their kind in shackles. Of course, Carwyn stepped in for those instances. The slavers very quickly forgot they had ever had an Eldar in their possession. Honestly, I wasn’t sure at first how they manage to capture Eldar at all. When I asked Carwyn about it, they just shrugged and claimed the battlefield was an unpredictable place. While they were powerful and careful they said their kind was just as susceptible to a rock to the back of the head as I was. They then proved the point by knocking me out with a telekinetically controlled rock. They could still be a bit of an asshole at times.

Of course, just when everything was settling down into a routine again, something exciting and deadly happened.

“Sir! Sir! Lord-Captain Commissar!” A young man wearing the grey pants and jacket that those in Planet Bob’s army wore raced up to me as I was inspecting the crops in the lower levels. One of the freed slaves who had volunteered, clearly. He stumbled, almost crushed several young potato plants, before finally slowly down as the farmers started yelling at him. I simply continued watching the planting while he picked his way over. “What is it Private?” I kept the frustration out of my tone. It was probably one of the site managers telling me another piece of equipment had broken down. “Message from one of the early warning substations sir! An Adeptus Mechanicus survey ship has been struck by an Ork Space Hulk in the next system over! They’re calling for help.” I wondered how many excited, eager young men and women like him had fought over who would be the one to give me this message. Clearly there were a lot of young hotheads eager to go on a daring rescue mission. I took the printout and scanned over the message. It was exactly as the young man had described. It would only take a few days to reach the neighboring system. Then I noticed something odd. I sighed and reached into my pocket. The communicator tucked there wasn’t nearly as small as the one I was used to, but at least it was portable. A few knob twists and a soft prayer to the machine spirit inside later Peridot’s voice issued forth. “What’s shakin’ bacon?” “Is today the day you happen to be working on that early warning substation that had been giving us trouble?” “Yup. Just finished it an hour ago. Something wrong?” “You might want to reflush the system. It’s started broadcasting signals it hasn’t been able to send to the main station, starting from the oldest. Which, by this print out, is about six hundred years old.” I glanced over at the young man in grey. The red, excited blood had drained out of his face awfully fast. “Six hundred-! Okay okay okay, I’m on it. I’ll go give those databases a good scrubbing. Sorry about that.” “No worries Peridot. You just excited some of the recruits down here. That’s all.” Her chuckle rang out over the radio before it snapped off from her end. I glanced over at the messenger. He seemed on the verge of fainting. “I-I-I-I… I didn’t realize…” “Private, I’m not going to flog you for a little mistake like this. Just make sure you read these reports more carefully from now on.” I had only actually flogged one soldier in the history of the planet Bob. The idiot had raped several women because he assumed his uniform granted him special privileges. I will admit I had put my back into the lashes rather more than necessary. The men were still whispering that story, it seems. “Yes sir!” He snapped off a crisp salute and turned to leave. As he walked away, my mind couldn’t help but consider the message. A Space Hulk was a massive craft. Surely some part of it survived the impact and the centuries of weathering. And an Adeptus Mechanicus ship. Even a survey ship would have technological secrets in its data banks if they were still intact. At the very least there would be equipment buried in holds that hadn’t been damaged in the crash. We could stand to expand our armored division beyond a single dinosaur covered in metal plates. “Private!” I called after him. He wheeled midstep and snapped another salute in my direction. He stayed in place as I walked over to catch up with him. “A salvage mission might not be as exciting as a rescue, but I’ll bet the girls would like hearing a few stories about you battling Orks.” He stared at me in disbelief for a moment, then grinned. “I bet they would indeed Sir.”

“Go tell the Void Walkers to get the Preemptive Revenge ready for departure. However long they tell you it will take, tell them they have half that. And find Sub-Commissar Bea. Have her and the Clan Chiefs meet me in the war room.” “Sir yes Sir!”

“Well, that’s going to put a damper on salvage operations.” I muttered, glaring at the screen looking down on the planet. It was less than a week later and we were looking down on the world that was supposed to be uninhabited except for valuable debris. Instead we discovered a whole Ork town built around the ruined ship. There were enough to make a ground assault impractical and even an orbital bombardment expensive. Not that we had the weapons or personnel for either action. “Perhaps if we scan the surface for the Admech ship instead?” Bea suggested as she entwined her arm with my own. She was rather pleased I had suggested this adventure be for just the two of us. Carwyn and Marceline were having one of their annual fights, making it rather unpleasant to be a part of the command structure. I had locked them in a room, told them to figure their shit out, and then left Peridot in charge. “Good idea. Hopefully it hasn’t dropped too close to the Orks. I doubt it would have gone unlooted for so long but maybe there will be something worth-” My voice cut off as crackling energy erupted around me and the smell of burned lemons was suddenly everywhere. Bea was still next to me, her hand reaching for her pistol. But the rest of the ship had disappeared around us. “Boss! Boss! We’s done firin’ dat Girfinda!” A large, heavily accented voice shouted over the sound of rattling metal and sparking electricity that came from the device we now stood on. The humanoid was a brutish creature with green skin, a slumping frame, and a number of metallic devices hanging off their belt that glowly alarmingly. It looked in our direction. “Boss! We’s found two gits fer one!” I sighed loudly and pulled my pistol, but before I could cock it, a weight like a sack of concrete landed on my shoulder. I staggered and looked. The weight was a hand equipped with fingers each as large as my own wrist. The arm it was attached to was similarly gargantuan. I very slowly put my pistol back into its holder. The hand lifted off. Bea and I turned around to greet the Ork who had captured us. “By the Nine.” She whispered. I had to agree. The Ork was fourteen feet tall. He was very obviously male and sheathed in a perfectly tailored purple leopard-skin suit. The cane he twirled with a diamond larger than my head was taller than me by a pair of feet. And then there was the hat. The glorious, wide-brimmed velvet monstrosity with so many feathers stuffed into its rim that there scarcely appeared to be room for one more. “We and I be Abak Manyfingaz, my fine lil ‘Umies. And yous gon’ win fer uz da Kannonball Run.” His voice was so low that it actually caused my joints to ache a little. The guttural, accenting English he used was just this side of intelligible, but as he elaborated I got the gist of it. The Kannonball Run was a race around the outside of “the skid”, which was the several hundred mile long canyon carved out by the Space Hulk’s crash landing. I was to be given slightly less than fourteen hours, and a bag of teeth, to find a crew, a vehicle, and arrive on the starting line in time for the “Openin’ KABLAMO!”. From his rambling statement it sounded like none of the contestants even made it off the starting line before opening fire on each other. When I asked what would happen if I refused to race for him, he informed me that he was carrying no less than three guns at least as large as I was. I took the point. After that, I was handed the bag of teeth and shoved out the door. Abak told me to be on the starting line as soon as the sun rose over the Space Hulk. Or thereabouts. It seemed the start of the race was heavily dependent on how drunk the judges had gotten the night before. Judging from what I had heard of Orks through the Rogue Traders, I figured we would have an extra hour or two of fiddling time once we got there. Of course that was highly reliant on us finding a team at all. Our initial inquiries earned us anything from drunken laughter to heavily drunken laughter. Apparently these Kannonball Runs were a regular thing on this dust cloud of a planet and everyone worth their boots had already chosen their teammates.

In between being laughed out of rickety buildings calling themselves pubs and mechanic shops, I sent a call skyward. The crew was very relieved to hear from me but mildly alarmed to realize I was being threatened into a death race. They offered to stage a valiant rescue mission, at the cost of many lives, to save me from my entrapment. I told them everything was okay for now and they just needed to stay put. They reaffirmed their desire to die heroically for my life if necessary, but followed orders. When I got home I vowed to put every trashy romance/action novel Fia had infected my world with to the torch.

We wasted two hours looking for a team before one finally found us. Bea and I rounded the corner out of a dingy little alley sandwiched between two rusted out cannon shells that were large enough that they were now homes. Guns were pointed in our direction. Four of them, each with a glowing red light at their tips like massive cigarettes. Lasguns. In an Ork town? That didn’t make any sense… unless… “Oh shit. It’s a Commissar.” A gruff male voice behind one of the guns muttered. “A Commissar? Here?” A second man asked, his voice anxious but dragging over the words. “That does seem strange. Doesn’t that seem strange? Why would a Commissar be here? Now? In the middle of the Ork camp at night? This all seems very strange.” The female voice rambled all over the place as she spoke and at a speed that reminded me far too much of Lina. The man behind the fourth gun just grunted. “All right, all right, I got this.” The first one assured the others, before shouting in my direction. “Who the fuck are you and why shouldn’t we shoot you for impersonating a Commissar?” “Impersonating?!” I bellowed back. Even Bea jumped at that. “I am the Lord-Captain of the Light of Terra and rightly appointed Commissar of the planet Bob. I impersonate no one!” “Certainly sounds like a Commissar.” The second man whispered. The fourth grunted again. “But can Commissars be Lord-Captains too? I didn’t think they could but then there were stories in the archives about Commissars taking command when the proper leaders fell I remember because-” The female voice cut off with a yelp as the second gunman elbowed her in the side. “Not now Symm!” He hissed. “Got any credentials to back that claim up?” The first man was ignoring the antics of his followers. I was starting to get a major case of deja vu. “I’ve got the Sword Class Frigate called Preemptive Retaliation ready to glass as much of this planet as it can if those aboard don’t hear back from me in the next hour.” A partial lie that probably wasn’t far off from the truth. Three sets of eyes turned skyward as if they expected to see the ship coming in for a landing. The older man’s stayed firmly in place, along with his rifle. “The ‘Mechs did say there was something strange on their skyward scopes.” The fourth man finally spoke in a strangely high pitched voice. It didn’t match his grizzled face. “So you’re the survivors of the Adeptus Mechanicus ship then.” I stated the question instead of asking. Their discipline revealed much. “We got your message a bit late. I must admit we thought there would only be scrap left to recover.” “He knows the old name.” The second man sounded even more nervous now. “He’s got an Imperial ship and command. That’s all the ‘Manders and ‘Mechs are going to care about.” Grumbled the first voice. Finally, the lasguns lowered, if slowly. “Commissar, please excuse our rudeness. We’ve been trapped among the savages so long that we stopped believing there would be a rescue.” “We were going to enter the Kannonball Run because the winner gets a whoooooooole heap of scrap parts and we that would give us enough parts to build a radio transmitter to finally call for a pick up but since you’re here I suppose we don’t need to worry about that now. Seems a shame though because we spent all that time building a vehicle and now we don’t need it.” The unstoppable torrent of words from the woman started up again. This time she dodged the elbow thrown her way. “It’s a great vehicle loads and loads better than anything these greenskins are shoving together and besides there’s a lot of interesting things to see out there so maybe we should run in the race anyways what do you say ‘Mander?” The grunting individual finally clapped a hand over her mouth and held it there. I didn’t quite manage to hold in a sigh of relief. “Pardon the ‘Gator, Sir. Symm is just over excitable. I’m ‘Mander Graf Renik and we would very much like a ride off this rock now if you please.” He looked like he belonged on a poster for the Imperial Guardsmen. Lines of hard fought experience coated his face and he looked like he had seen enough action to qualify for retirement if such a thing existed. I rather liked him and his blunt attitude immediately. “A ride we can provide.” Bea pushed her way into the conversation for the first time. “But she has a point. You already have the vehicle. We have a huge bag of teeth. And there’s a giant Ork with three very large guns and a teleportation device who will shoot us a lot if we don’t win. So-” There was a yelp as teeth found flesh and the torrent of voice started up again. But ‘Mander Graf just talked over it. “Well it’s not like we weren’t planning on it anyways. The teeth’ll help outfit the SSV a little better.” “I can’t be working all night if you expect me to drive.” The grunter with the high voice complained. “As to that, I have an idea.” I grinned as I lifted my communicator. ======[Dust Rats Joined: Support and Salvage Vehicle Obtained] [Bag Contains: 3000 Teef]

SSV Loadout + Armourplas windows and windshields (Free) - What it sounds like. + Proper Suspension (Free) - Man, I’m glad this is included. + Heavy Bolter (Free) + Lascannon (Free) + Multilasers [x3] (Free) + Servo Mounted Electromagnet (Free) - A massive electromagnet mounted on an equally massive robot arm. Bikes and warbuggies can be picked right off the ground, while larger vehicles can be captured, held, or flipped over. + Actual Seats (25, 25) - Going to have to sit everyone somewhere. + Big Fat Tires [x3] (150, 175) - Six for the vehicle and six spares. + Extra Armor (50, 225) - Extra plates to slap onto the side of the vehicle. + Spikes (50, 275) - Mad Max ain’t got nothing on us. + Red Paint (50, 325) - For some reason this actually does make the vehicle go faster. + Bigga Fuel Tank [x2] (125, 500) - No pit stops on this death race. + Fuel [x2] (100, 600) - We’re not going anywhere without gas. + Armored Fuel Tank [x2] (200, 700) - Might not be properly Orky, but I’m not exploding if I can help it. + Heavy Bolters [x3] (800, 1500) - More firepower. + Multilaser (200, 1700) - I said more FIREPOWER! + Rokkit Launcha (300, 2000) - Oh, I’ve got plans for you + Grot Bomb Launcha (150, 2150) - This is perfect!

Extra Vehicles + Light Recce Vehicle (250, 2400) - This gives me an idea.

Extra Boys + Shootas [x8] (600, 3000) - Those guns aren’t going to man themselves.

Gunner Positions + Gunner Soloman Sykes (Grunter) - Lascannon, focusing on longer range targets specifically. + Four on the left, four on the right. Two Heavy Bolters and two Multilasers on each side. Shootas to man these. Accuracy won’t mean much but with so much lead and laser flying it couldn’t make a difference. + The Multilaser on the Light Recce Vehicle is getting pulled off and put on the back of the SSV. Will be manned by Bea or myself, situation permitting.

The drop pods were even more earthquaking than I thought they would be. Three dozen members of the Kin of Iron clan poured out of them, a little shaky but uninjured. The Dust Rats all looked rather impressed at the entrance. I just grinned. “Okay men!” I shouted over the ringing in my own ears. “We’ve got ten hours to get all these parts-” I motioned towards the extra guns, plates of armor, spikes, and ammo sitting next to the SSV in a big pile. “-fitted onto that!” I pointed to the SSV itself. It was already a solid looking beast of a transport, but I knew we were going to need more if we wanted to win the death race. “We’re going to be adding guns, spikes, paint, armor, wheels, and ripping the engine out of that Recon vehicle and adding it to the SSV. I want that thing able to outrace a Wartruck by morning while firing every gun! So that means moving the gas tanks to over the middle wheels instead of letting them drag the rear end. And make sure the exhaust vents outside!” I spent a few more minutes going over the specifics, the Kin of Iron looking more and more excited at the technical and engineering challenge ahead of them. They did seem slightly aghast when I told them all the firing mechanisms had to be able to be operated by Ork hands as well as Humans. “But Commissar! We have troops willing to drop in and fight alongside you! Why use filthy greenskins?!” So I told them. They were staring at me as if I was a mad bastard before I was halfway through. But by the end I had the lot of them laughing. They set to work praying to the machine spirits between their chuckles. ======Nobody got much sleep that night. I had a certain enterprising private find the strongest version of caffeine these Orks had and brew us up a batch. After it melted our coffee pot I had some sent down from the ship instead. But we managed to get it done. With two hours until the start time we rumbled the frakensteined vehicle towards the starting line. We woke up more than a few locals on our way, but they didn’t seem to mind greeting the morning to the smell of engine fumes. The SSV was first to arrive, naturally, and I had them park it right in the center. On top we balanced the gutted Light Recce Vehicle. We had stolen basically every useful part out of it, but welded the Rokkit Launcha and Grot Bomb Launcher onto it. And then loaded it full of every explosive substance we could get our hands on. Including the Ork “Coffee”. Yeah, that’s right, we had transformed it into a massive single-use missile. So we tinkered, puttered, and made last minute adjustments to everything from seat height to armor plate placement. Two hours passed. Then a third. And a fourth without any sign of the locals waking up. But when I had gotten tired of being creative, and it was nearing noon, I climbed into the Lascannon and aimed it towards a “guzzoline” tower most of a kilometer away. The explosion was spectacular, even at this distance. It did get the locals up and moving through their hangovers at least. Our fellow contestants, which seemed to be everyone who could get at least two wheels or four legs under them, trickled onto the field. A horn was sounded which turned the trickle into a flood. Large beasts strapped with plates stood beside fleets of War Trucks and even shared space with a literal land ship, sails and all. Eventually the judges even arrived. There was a properly stirring speech delivered in the Ork’s guttural version of English that focused heavily on the terms “krumpin’” and “‘splodin’”. But eventually someone got tired of the judge’s droning on and shot him in the leg. At which point everyone opened fire on each other while every driver pushed their gas pedals to the floor.

Since I had been the one to fire the shot, Bea was already pushing the big red button by the time everyone opened fire. A massive explosion ripped over the terrific noise going on outside. Six dumbfire missiles flew off to our right and created a line of carnage a distance away. The gutted vehicle flew in the other direction, assisted by its Grot trashcan bomb engine. It flew a fair distance before plowing into the terf, and those assembled along the line, and exploding in an even larger radius of carnage. Of course, that wasn’t the only surprise. Six vehicles on the left and five on the right of us tried to rocket forward only to hit a trench we had used our extra time digging and covering over. They tipped, stalled, and spilled most of their riders. We had no time to stop and watch this part of my plan go off, but I knew what would happen. The SSV peeled out and into the race, revealing the hole where I had concealed four dozen fighting men. The youngest, craziest, and most desperate to prove themselves poured out of the hole, lasguns firing at those stalled vehicles. With the chaos going on everywhere along the line, most of them fell to crossfire, but some made it to their goal, shot the greenskins inside, and forced the vehicle onwards. Suddenly we had four extra vehicles, two War Bikes and two War Trucks. They were never going to be at the head of the pack, but that wasn’t what they were in the race for. They were looters. Drop pods would land more men further down the track, which these stolen vehicles would pick up. They’d travel after the carnage of the race itself and scout out wrecks for useful bits. Anything that could move, they’d steal, anything that couldn’t, they take what was useful and move on. Eventually they’d head towards the Dust Rat’s crashed ship to await pickup by the transports from the Preemptive Revenge already loading people up. ‘Mander Graf hadn’t liked being left out of the race, but I had needed someone in charge to let their people know not to murder the transports headed their direction. I would have much rather sent Symms. “Oh wow that was an amazingly bombastic way to start a race No wonder the Orks have such a high rate of reproduction if this is how many casualties they’re willing to have over a simple recreational activity Oh look at that I didn’t even know you could fill a wheel with hydrogen but it has to be for it to explode like that and right right right I’m supposed to be navigating Well just keep going straight for now and dodge around all the explosions.” I really wish I could have sent Symms. ======[[Going into summary mode because I really want to move on from this.]] Kannonball Run Final Results: A win, but a close one. Despite all the addons, the SSV doesn’t ​ handle all that well at higher speeds. Especially not on the mixed, nasty terrain of this planet. A couple of speedsters took the lead for most of the race but didn’t fare so well on the return trip when they had to dodge around all the debris of those who didn’t make it. The SSV was big enough and heavy enough to just plow through wrecks and keep on going. Plus the troops we left behind to loot the failures arranged for a few surprises. Some carefully placed landmines worked wonders. Thankfully the Orks didn’t question why bikes and cars exploded despite nothing else being nearby. Ork tech is, apparently, just like that sometimes. Reward: Tellyporta Array ​ The Kin of Iron tribe loves this thing, even if it scares everyone else shitless. But, thankfully, it actually works. It doesn’t splice people into walls or anything. We installed this onto the Light of Terra. Special note: Several dozen Orks led by a pair of MekBoys threw themselves at my feet and begged ​ me to be their Warboss. So I shrugged and let them come along. They were ecstatic. Peridot just looked at me like I had brought home a whole troop of mangy dogs. At least until the MekBoys started talking to her. The others were a little wary of them at first, so we built them their own set of tunnels with doubly reinforced walls. Their penchant for diselpunk machinery played hell with our atmospherics until we managed to calibrate everything correctly and install a few extra air scrubbers. Still, they caught and killed another Dark Eldar assassin, so they’re proving their worth.

That and they’re the only ones able to teach us how to operate and maintain the, startlingly large, collection of Ork vehicle we “salvaged” from the Kannonball Run. Not that we really have anywhere to use them, but they’re nice to have. The disadvantages of a tunnel-based society is that building a racetrack and maintaining atmo scrubbers for it is just too cost prohibitive. Not to mention the strain it would put on our healthcare system. ======Then the moon orbiting Bob exploded into a fungal plant growth overnight. We suddenly had millions of kilograms of edible fungus that would outlive the youngest child on the planet even if we didn’t bother preserving it. It kind of made our farming efforts seem a little silly if the moon was going to produce a generation’s worth of food every decade or two. Then a wreck was discovered bearing all the documents I would need to set myself up as a Rogue Trader. A few names changed here and there was all it took. Peridot had it done in an afternoon. We even had the coordinates to a planet all but begging for foodstuffs. This wasn’t a hard decision to make. I went to drag the miniature green wonder out of her lab only to find her already packed. She had apparently been planning to demand that it was her turn to go and force me to take her. [Resources Gained: +1000 CP, 1100 CP] We arrived at Hive City, a towering structure so impossibly huge that my mind kept assuring me that it was actually a massive distance away. For some reason that caused me no small amount of vertigo. But soon enough we were docked and my senses were able to take in the reality of the spire. It was a city, like any other, with customs officials and traders coming and going in waves. The governing body took one look at my cargo manifest and decided that my paperwork wasn’t all that important. They were even happy to reissue everything with the correct seals and certifications. “Obviously an oversight. Not to worry.” The rather stern-looking clerk behind the desk assured me. He hadn’t started our meeting nearly so friendly. Peridot found the whole exchange amusing. We were directed towards the Underhive when I asked about the best place to offload my cargo. I didn’t just come out and ask the question. The trading culture of this spire was far too rooted in intrigue and backstabbing for that. Instead, Peridot and I spent several days listening in on the conversations of others at various taverns, bars, and outside the customs office. So we descended the levels, docking the Preemptive Revenge where the air was not nearly so sweet but the deals better. The local Guilds, a name that made me laugh to still see in use, were all too happy to meet with me when I sent around my cargo manifest and stated my desire to sell everything. I had six houses eager to meet with me. House Van Saar eventually won my interest because, out of everyone, their messenger was almost the most polite. They were disciplined and willing to wait to be heard so their message wasn’t lost in the noise of everyone else’s. However, the strangest thing happened on my way to their guild hall. ======“We’re lost.” Peridot informed me, for the fourth time in as many hallways. “Thank you Captain Obvious.” I spat back sarcastically. The Underhive was a maze of corridors modified and remodified by residents who had lived and died in them for untold numbers of generations. Maintenance was spotty even before taking into account modifications the locals have made. Poor lighting and shifting hallways made following directions, even good ones, was not always as easy as it should be. “Don’t get all pissy with me.” She shot back, digging an elbow into my side. “Let’s just go back to the hotel and wait for the daily messengers tomorrow. We can have them lead us.” “I suppose we’ll have to. I just wanted to arrive on my own terms. Gives off a stronger impression at the bargaining table, you know?” I peered to the right and left and saw nothing I hadn’t already seen the first time I had looked.

“Won’t be that bad. Think of it as taking advantage of their hospital-” She broke off suddenly. I looked over at her, confused. She was looking behind us at the way we had come. I followed her eyes and found a dead end there. One of concrete and metal. “Wasn’t there a hallway there a moment ago?” “Yes. Yes there was.” My pistol was in my hand before I could think about it. Peridot lunged at my hip for its twin. She hadn’t seen the need to wear her weapon of choice. Then again, she enjoyed lugging around a Heavy Bolter. I couldn’t fault her too much for being it to what was supposed to be trade negotiations. In the few moments it had taken us to notice the change behind us, the way ahead of us had changed as well. Now there was only one path to go. The walls had become more rusted, the air a little staler, and the gravity subtly heavier. As if we were many levels lower in the Hive City than we had been a moment ago. The lights here were completely out. They had been replaced by candles that filled the air with the smell of herbs and spices. Fresh scents to cover the sour air. The lights were tucked along the edges of the hallway or in little notches cut into the walls. “Ideas?” I asked. Peridot just shook her head. “Well, forward it is then.” She nodded. So we proceeded down the only path available. The feeling that we were being herded in a direction only grew as every side passage we came across was blocked by debris, collapses, or even a toxic spill in a few cases. One hallway was actively being electrocuted by a live wire as large as I was. After a half hour or so, the corridors finally led us to a larger open area. From the rusted cargo containers and massive cranes slumped over it had once been a docking bay. Which meant we were near the outer wall. It should have taken us much longer to reach this part of the Hive City. I glanced as Peridot but she was too busy trying to look in every direction at once to notice. A skittering, scratching noise drew both our attention and that of our pistols. A rat-like nose poked itself out from around the corner of a massive shipping container. It was easily seven feet off the ground. “Man-thing no fire. Only wish to chat-talk.” Despite the squeakiness of the voice, there was a deepness to it that spoke of a large body. I motioned Peridot to spread out with the faintest flick of three fingers. She took three long steps to the right before nodding. “All right. We’ll listen. But I’m warning you that we’re armed and in no mood for shenanigans.” “No nanigans! But this one-self is he, not she.” With that odd statement the creature stepped out from behind the container. It was a massive rat-based humanoid. Coarse brown fur covered it from head to ankle, leaving his hands, feet, and tail bare. It was not as bulky as a human might be, but if the Heavy Bolter he carried across its back easily was any indication, the thing was built for war. He turned his head from one side to the other to regard me with each of his glittering black eyes. Then ducked his head so he could regard us with both. His ears, heavily notched and scarred, twitched this way and that in response to sounds I couldn’t hear. After regarding us for a moment he smiled. With his rat muzzle of a face and the state of his needle-like teeth, it was somehow both threatening and friendly. “Yup-yup. You two the ones-ones.” His head bobbed comically up and down. “The shaman-elders promised-predicted you be here, now.” A hand, tipped with claws, pointed to the far wall. “This day-hour has been seen. Many times many shaman-elders in many times many tribes read same signs.” “Oh good, you’re in another prophecy. This can only be a good thing.” Peridot groaned. But I simply waved a hand for her to be quiet as a response. Because this didn’t make sense. The prophecy of the Red Warden, as it had slowly transformed into, was linked to my powers. The times I had been deprived of them, it hadn’t followed me. So how had it travelled to this world too? Usually this would be the moment where the Lady in White giggled in my ear. But she was silent. The Beast in Black refused to chime in either. So I had nothing to go on but my own instincts. “Tell me of the prophecy.” I demanded of the ratman. He seemed exceptionally pleased with the response, performing a small shuffle with his feet like a jig. “Yes! Yes! As they said-saw. He desires to know-understand his own legend-myth. He will ask-demand after it. Do not worry-fret. This one will tell-recite it best I can.” He drew himself up to his full height, which

easily added an extra two feet. I hadn’t realized just how slouched his back had been until that moment. Then his eyes glazed over. Someone else began to speak through his body. “He soon comes, the Pathwalker.” The voice that slipped from him did not squeak or double-speak some words. It spoke without emotion, but with a driving, unstoppable certainty. I tried not to shiver under their weight. Tried. Something knew me despite everything. “His robes have been taken.” “Blackness chases.” Whispers erupted out of the shadows. Hundreds of reverent, squeaking voices answered the prophecy. “He has stitched them anew.” “With courage and cloth.” The shades began to answer every monotone line from the spellbound ratman. It had the feel of a religious ritual, but not an entirely holy one. “Violence in one hand, burning and red.” “A color well known.” “Peace in the other, living and red.” “The color of an ally missing.” “He will ask after his own legend.” “Though he knows it well.” “He will ask much else.” “Answer him as kin.” “Glowing Land awaits us should we follow.” “He is on the Path.” “One we must also take.” “The Horned Rat rewards the faithful.” As the echoes of those final words drifted to silence, nobody moved. The ratman with his glazed eyes remained in place. My instincts screamed at me that doing the wrong thing here would result in my death. Carwyn had spoke of a nexus of destinies swirling around me. It seemed I had finally stumbled into one so obvious even I recognized it. “Lead me to where your path intersects mine. And tell me of the one you worship.” I stuttered on the first word only slightly, yet even that little mistake was enough that I could feel the shadows pressing closer. But the rest of the words fit what they expected well enough that it was overlooked. The feeling of oppressive darkness faded without a whisper of movement. The ratman eased back down into his normal, slouching posture. He smiled at me again, friendly and threatening. “Come-Follow! You are the one we seek-found.” Squeaky voiced and apparently unharmed from the ritual, he turned and motioned us towards the far edge of the room. He took several bouncing, oddly-gaited steps before turning fully away. “Holy shit.” Peridot swore under her breath. “How do you argue with a prophecy?” “You usually don’t. Come on. We’ll have to see this through.” She grabbed at my sleeve before I could take my first step. “You don't really want to play along with this messiah malarkey, do you?” “Of course not. But they know of the Path.” I twisted my hand to wrap my fingers in hers. Still as smooth as ocean smoothed pebbles. “I have to figure out how and why. The Three don't drop hints, but those who serve their purposes sometimes do.” “I'm not sharing Bob with them.” Peridot stated firmly. I found myself smiling again. “We'll figure that out later. There's always the moon.” We walked after the ratman. I asked for his name. ‘He Who Finds’ told me it then introduced his gun as ‘He Who Roars Death’.

“Do you name all your guns?” I was desperately trying to find something to anchor my swirling thoughts onto. Small talk seemed the easiest. Their prophecy had claimed I would ask many questions, and he was happy to keep answering them. “No, not all. Rare is the gun-weapon who earns-deserves a name.” He proceeded to tell me of the long and storied history of the firearm. It was well over three generations old and had passed through five owners in that time. Battling the Plague Zombies that cropped up from time to time was no light matter. After a time he realized I was more interested in our surroundings than his stories of battlefields past and stopped talking. I was looking all around, not at the ancient and rusting machinery around us, but at the eyes. Pairs of shimmers gleamed out at us from the shadows. A pair here, a dozen there, three dozen huddled close to the ground under a massive crane at one point. While the whispering shades had been more of an ethereal threat, the numbers surrounding us now were anything but. There weren’t just hundreds, there were thousands. Maybe tens of thousands. It took us an hour of walking to cross the massive room. Our route twisted and curved around collapsed machines and even through metal containers that looked like they had been chewed open. They probably had. Finally we reached the doors that would have once opened alongside a ship the size of the Light of Terra. Even if the mechanisms hadn’t long since rusted shut, the rat people’s city built up the metal would have kept them from opening. Everything had been cobbled together out of available materials. Metal sheets from shipping containers were bolted and welded to each other to form rooms. Ladders had been made from rods and chains. There was even a coarse plumbing system in place using water from a leaking mainline pipe. They even had power drawn from several wires that disappeared into the wall. I couldn’t help but wonder how many had died getting that connection right in a city of solid metal. He Who Finds urged us further and further into the city. The eyes were opening watching now. Clusters of rat-people whispering and pointing and gesturing. I caught snippets of the words they spoke. “He comes…” “Glowing Land awaits-calls!” “Soon… leaving.” “... she?” “Gem Child… forehead.” “Elder-Shaman predicted…” “... did not!” “Hive be praised.” The noise died away slowly as we were led into the tunnels of their city. It was impossible to tell just how long we wandered through those dimmy lit passages. We turned and twisted about so many times that I was certain we would never be able to find our way out without assistance. But He Who Finds assured me that the Elders-Shamans were waiting at their most sacred place. I was to meet them to initiate the journey. The path finally ended in a room that seemed to glow of its own volition. A soft, green like sunlight through leaves filled the space but came from no source I could find. Fourteen figures waited from us, arranged in a circle around a small plant. A fruit tree with three branches, each bearing a single fruit, but no leaves to be seen. He Who Finds directed me to stand in the single empty space of the circle, gently pulling Peridot towards the edge of the wall when she tried to stand beside me. She struggled at first until I shook my head. Her eyes smoldered at the command. But I didn’t see another way. Once those two were standing in the doorway again, the closest elder spoke. She was a wrinkled old thing without a single strand of hair visible. Thankfully they were all wrapped in thick layers of cloth. “The words have been spoken-heard. How do you answer?” She had a voice like coarse sandpaper on wood. “Who is the Horned Rat?” Her mouth quirked upwards into a smirk at my defiant tone. “Spirited. Good. The Horned Rat, the ever hungering-thirsting, brought our kind-people here in ancient ages. Even the Man-God on the Throne of your kind-people does not remember then, so long-distant was it. The Four Ruinous Powers were squabbling-fighting children when our blades first tasted blood here.”

“That’s a lie and you know it!” Cultist appeared in the middle of the circle dressed in black leathers and clutching her pain wheel. It was the closest to battle ready as I had ever seen her. Her face was serious, determined, and angry. “Your dead god had to trick his way in through the shadows while everyone else was occupied.” I started to open my mouth to yell at her, but one of the Shamans spoke first. “Child of the Powers, you tread uninvited into a sacred-holy place.” “I can do what I want! I’m favored by all four of the great masters of the Warp! Able to travel wherever there is a shadow! Allowed to inflict whatever torments I can devise! Forever denied the bliss of death so that my torment may forever fuel-” She continued to rant and rave as the fourteen shamans each raised their left hands. I felt magic surge to life at their call, powerful and sinister. I barely resisted the urge to dive for the doorway. There were no words. No chant or incantation. One moment Cultist was preaching the prowess and immortality of herself and the Four Ruinous Powers, then she was gone. Just gone. Along with one of the three fruits. “Not so dead-gone after all.” The male shaman sneered at the empty air. Each of the others chittered in a tone of cruel laughter. Their eyes turned back to me and, thankfully, softened quickly. “Do not think us cruel-mean.” The first woman spoke again. “We have little mercy-patience for fools and enemies. But our allies-friends get only kindness-honey.” “You still worship one of the dark lords?” It wasn’t really a question and they noticed the disapproval in my tone. Thirteen of the group shifted uncomfortably. The last, an individual that appeared to be more cloth than flesh, spoke from the hole in his bundle of green. “The blasphemer is partly correct. The Hungerer-Thirster moved on from this plane many times many generations ago. We but cling to the last-final of His teachings.” This one’s voice was far too similar to that of the ethereal shadows for my comfort. “Rest assured, he is not dead. Simply far away.” “We not follow-worship Him like ancients-far-elders did.” A fourth voice butted in. This one was more heavily accented and seemed to have trouble speaking coherently. “We no longer fed-sacrifice His hunger-thirst.” The others offered scattered words that agreed with his own “It does us no good.” “Blood is not power any longer.” “Not in ages.” “He feeds-eats others now.” “Ourselves-souls cannot reach him.” I asked so many more questions after that. Bit by bit, I began to understand. It reminded me all over again about how much sense Cultist could make when she tried. A small part of me was terrified of that. It knew which direction that path would lead. As well as how easy it would be to take it.

Peridot tried not to fume from her position at the door. Her legs were aching from how long they had been walking without rest. Two, three hours now? Absurd. People shouldn’t have to walk such long distances unaided. That was the point of technology! Her thoughts were interrupted by He Who Finds nudging her and smiling that wicked grin of his again. “The shaman-elders do like to chatter-talk, yes?” “Are they always like this?” She tried not to let her impatience show through. But she wasn’t at good at hiding her emotions as Yoro was. The guide’s expression widened another inch. “Many moon-cycles have passed since such willing ears-mind has chatter-talked to them.” “Many moon-cycles will pass before all this is over.” He chuckled at that, a deeper sound than she had expected. “This one senses boredom. Perhaps some quiet-rest and food-drink?” “You know what? Yes, absolutely.” If Yoro was going to spend the next few hours asking questions about religion, she was at least going to get to sit down and eat something. But a thought stopped her. “What do you eat?”

He Who Finds chuckled again and motioned her back down the passage. “Many good-tasty things. Honey-fruit and Crispy-stalks. You will like them. Come-follow.” So she did. She saw no reason not to trust these people at least a little at this point. After all, if they wanted them dead they would have sprung a trap long before now. Unless they were trying to kill her with boredom. Either way, they were both so deep in their territory that fighting back out of it would be futile. The odds were just too stacked against Yoro and her. As it turned out, “honey-fruit” was literally a pear-like fruit that had been blended and mixed with honey. It was delicious when spread on the thin, unleavened bread the rat-people made. He Who Finds talked about how it was an excellent source of energy in lean times. However special occasions called for special treats. Peridot suspected he was using her as an excuse to dig into the sweets. Especially since he ate nearly as much of the jar as she did. The “crispy-stalks” were less interesting. It was just celery. Ordinary celery. Admittedly, it was impressive that they could grow anything at all inside a metal garage. The guide seemed to relish the taste of it just as much as the jam though. She just smiled and chewed through several bland stalks to be polite. “So, can you give me the short version of what they’re talking about?” She finally asked, more as an excuse to stop chewing on celery. He Who Finds shrugged as if he didn’t care for the topic but answered the question. “We don’t worship-sacrifice to The Ever Hungerer-Thirster anymore. He moved-passed on and does not listen-hear us any more. So we use-scavenged useful bits. Use those instead. Very simple-easy. Rule the first: Always strive-seek to be better. Rule the second: Don’t steal-scavenge from packmates.” ======Skip over a lot of this. Peridot still isn’t sure about all this. Necrolord declares war on the Hive. The usual heroics happen, with He Who Finds and other Skaven warriors lending an enthusiastic hand. The complication (Electrical Charges) make things a little hectic and shocking at times, but the reliance on ranged weapons keeps casualties down to a minimum. The battle against the Necrolord himself is pretty blunt and brutal, but Yoro had the forethought to shape a few pieces of phase-iron into helmets to prevent warp influences out of their minds. Didn’t help so much against warp fire though.

Yoro gains the following Psychic Powers + Telekinetic (Primary Power) + Energy Absorption (Minor Power) + Bang Flash (Minor Power)

The Skaven end up settling on the moon. It has enough of an atmosphere that I immediately wonder why on earth we didn’t set up shop there in the first place. It’s a little thin, but introducing some extra bacteria to help break down dead mushroom starts CO2 forming. That allows plant life, bought from off-world traders, to start setting up the cycle of oxygen creation. Buying enough water to sustain the small moon just about empties the coffers though. I would have just raided an uninhabited world for it, but Peridot pointed out that it would cost even more for the filtration systems to ensure we didn’t being along space plague too. The ratlings are pretty happy being mushroom farmers though. Especially when I told them they could have bees later and celery soon. Not sure how bees are going to react to half a G of gravity, but that’ll be interesting to find out. They supply the food while the planet switches to focusing on industrial processes. Which nobody on Bob really complains about. The slaves and tribals were never much for farming. The next few years are rather uneventful outside of the normal stresses and dangers of our lives.

At one point Marceline asks me why there are more Orks than there were a year ago. My reaction can mostly be summed up as “What the fuck?”. Apparently Orks can produce asexually. I asked for details but apparently it involves a lot of “krumpin’” and that’s just not something Orks are willing to do in front of their Warboss. No matter how large his hat. After a little investigating I discover that the strange fungus that was originally the source of the problems with our atmospherics is actually some kind of primal ooze. For Orks. Peridot assures me they’re some kind of fungal species. I decided to just take their word for it and not think about it too hard.

An Inquisition ship wandered out of the Warp and into orbit around Bob at one point. The leader was someone with a really long set of titles I didn’t bother remembering. He started screaming over the radio at us for violating all sorts of laws. Everything from claiming ownership of the Holy Emperor’s property (The Light of Terra) to setting up our own colony without permission (despite Bob being a toxic little rockball). He even included a charge of impersonating an Imperial officer after I told him I was Commissar for Planet Bob. So we blew him up. Don’t look at me like that. He was threatening to blow up Bob after he finished listing out all the crimes we were guilty of. Which was apparently important enough that he missed the fact his ship was orbiting inside the firing arc of the Geocore. I’m pretty sure I did the Imperium a favor.

The Dark Elves… sorry, Dark Eldar, came looking for us in force near the beginning of our eight year on Bob. They didn’t do anything silly like demand surrender or offer us a way to pay our way out of being killed. They didn’t even flip their radios on to taunt us. Just warped into the sector and made for Bob. The only reason they didn’t get the drop on us entirely was the fact they stopped to raid the last water hauler making their way to the moon. Their distress call allows us to start opening up with the Geocore. They weren’t stupid enough to stay in it’s firing arc, but Peridot turned on every weapon the Light of Terra had working and caught a few ships by surprise. Bob itself was the main reason things didn’t go as badly as they might have. The toxic atmosphere and mountainous terrain both did their job just as admirably as I hoped. Open warfare was out of the question. Our points of entry were tried, tested, and not found wanting thanks to my army’s special focus on defense and better armaments. However, things turned nasty when a bunch of the Dark Eldar snuck into the Geocore. Bea guessed they were trying to take it down since the colony drew literally all its power from that one source. My excellent civic planning appeared to have one massive, fatal flaw I hadn’t expected. Man to man fighting inside the darker corridors of the Geocore played to the Dark Eldar’s strengths more than my troops. But the tribals had been born and bred fighting for dominance in the shadowed corridors of the Light of Terra. Some of the older warriors were actually grateful for the chance to relive the good old days. I wanted to call them idiots, but that kind of thing didn’t help morale. Carwyn and I did a majority of the heavier lifting with our psychic powers. Flash Banging every corridor before entering it turned out to be wildly effective. And Carwyn was nutty powerful enough that they could just tell where Dark Eldar were. Of course, the minute I thought we had the upper hand Bea nearly gets gutted by a Dark Eldar knife. The only reason she didn’t die is that the poison on the blade had been spent slicing through the three guards who were watching our backs. Thankfully, the colony’s investment in a health care system paid off in spades. She does have a wicked scar across her belly now though. On the plus side, her injury proved to be the rallying cry our troops needed to push the last major force of the Dark Eldar out of the Geocore. Thankfully, deprived of anyone to hurt, the stragglers quickly devolved into gibbering wrecks that we managed to murder before Slaanesh tried to drop any surprises on us. Strangest of all, Cultist actually helped us detect them before they went critical. She never explained why though. Eventually, the last metal plate was strapped onto the Light of Terra. Everybody cheered, shouted, and drank to excess. Basically everyone on Bob and it’s moon gathered on the ship to celebrate. I was absolutely astounded at how vast the ship was now that it was whole. It had seemed to cramped when most of what I saw of it were corridors still barely clinging to the ship and dark rooms. With everything lit and working, I realized

just how big it was. Even with our numbers rapidly approaching the million mark, the Light of Terra could have housed double or even triple that before feeling the strain. So, Peridot, Bea, Marceline, and I sat down to pour over the final details. We had all chipped in to make decisions along the way. Resources were allocated towards buying specific weapons, extra defenses, and retrofitting existing ones. We had used some of the excess to work on the Preemptive Revenge as well. In the end, we were all proud of the decade of effort we had put into both Bob and the restoration of such a relic. The fact that it was a weapon of war didn’t decrease our elation at helping to make an ancient piece of history live again.

Accumulated Ship Upgrades

Eldar Upgrades: + Twin Star Cannons + Reaper Missile Launcher + Warp Jump Generator

Skaven Upgrades: + Phase-Iron Armor Plates

Ork Upgrades: + Tellyporta Array (Installed on the Preemptive Revenge

Heathen Star Upgrades + Counterpoint Defense Array (Installed on the Preemptive Revenge)

Additional Purchase for The Preemptive Revenge + Void Shield (Prow), Belacane Pattern Void Shield (300 CP, 4100 CP) [Lots of tiny, fragile, overlapping shields instead of one large plate. Basically proof against anything except really high fire rate weapons and extremely precise ones.]

+ Macrocannon Battery (Prow), Caledor Pattern Disruption Macrocannon (500 CP, 3600 CP) [Fires EMP shells that disrupt other vessels rather than damage them. Mostly.]

The Preemptive Revenge has essentially become a boarding ship at this point. The extra void shield on the prow, matched with the pair of EMP batteries, give it the ability to charge straight into enemy fire and disable the enemy ship. The Counterpoint Defense Array also protects them from torpedo strikes as well as smaller fighter or bomber squadrons. Then, the boarding parties teleport over and begin taking control of the ship. Meanwhile the Preemptive Revenge can charge off in another direction to do the same thing again or switch to defending their new prize with more traditional firepower. Considering how lightly armed my troops are, casualties for these missions are going to be pretty high. But capturing entire starships might be worth the price.

Light of Terra’s Armaments (3,600 CP) The Prow (2 weapons max, can only fire forwards, but massively increased in power) + Nova Cannon (Free) - An absolutely, stupidly, insanely huge torpedo launcher. Inaccurate enough that specifically targeting anything smaller than a small planet is next to impossible. Can be fired at extreme ranges thanks to the projectiles leaving it at close to light speed. Does not detonate on impact but instead after a certain time (calculated before firing based on the distance it should travel) passes. Each shell has as blast radius the size of a small planet and enough firepower to cripple even a battleship in one shot. + Reaper Missile Launcher (Free) - A long-barrelled missile launcher that fires armor-piercing missiles powerful enough to punch through all but the absolutely thickest armor. Insanely accurate as the gunner can psychically “see” out of the barrel of the weapon. Even those unskilled in its use find it nearly impossible to miss. Psychic helmet also tracks multiple targets, allowing for easier target acquisition.

Port-side & Starboard-side (Slightly increased fire rate, but can only fire on that side) [Identical loadouts on both sides] + Twin Star Cannon (Free) - Rapid-fire plasma weapon. Armor piercing in the extreme. Wildly more accurate than anything else in its class. Extra safeguards to prevent meltdowns. + Torpedo Launcher [x4] (Free) - Basic dumbfire missiles. Good blast radius though. + Hecutor Pattern Plasma Macrocannons [x6] (1200, 2400) - Plasma artillery guns. Extreme range. + Belacane Pattern Void Shield (200+400, 300) - Lots of tiny, fragile, overlapping shields instead of one large plate. Basically proof against anything except really high fire rate weapons and extremely precise ones.

Aft (Can only fire behind the ship, but gain a huge increase on range) + Mezoa Pattern Hybrid Lance Weapon [x3] (600+600, 1200) - Basically massive laser shotguns. Very short range, but by installing them here that problem is mostly nullified. Step up in raw power too.

Hull (Much better armored, almost impossible to destroy. Takes time to deploy & slightly less accurate) + Torpedo Launcher [x4] (Free) - Basic dumbfire missiles. Good blast radius though. + Lance Batteries [x8] (Free) - Massive laser weapons. Can be used for precise shots or ranked along targets to try and overload shields. + Belacane Pattern Void Shield (100+200, 0) - Lots of tiny, fragile, overlapping shields instead of one large plate. Basically proof against anything except really high fire rate weapons and extremely precise ones.

Warp Engine + Vakarian Warp Engine (300, 900) - A lighter Warp Core and two stripped down twin drives, all of it exceedingly precisely engineered, means the Light of Terra sheds a lot of weight without losing power. This allows her to maneuver at sublight speeds as if she was a much, much lighter ship. [No slow and ponderous mega ship for me!] + Cogitator (Free) - A machine capable of navigating the currents of warp with ease. UNIQUE. [At least the Astropath problem has finally been solved.] Entire Ship Upgrades + Phase-Iron Armor Plating - Warp Immunity. Just full on Warp Immunity for the ship and anything inside. + Warp Jump Generator - Can cause the ship to leap, instantly, tens of thousands of miles from its current position. + Void Shield (Free) - Force Shield. Six in total, each protecting a section of the ship.

[Just a note for myself] >Felinids https://1d4chan.org/wiki/Felinid ​ + Literally cat people are a thing, even if they are only barely not heretical. So I probably have some of those mixed into the slaves that I’ve been buying. Probably have a lot of pockets of random mutants, adhumans, and beastman races. + It’s been pointed out that the Imperium, while tolerating Adhumans and Beastmen of some stripes, do not allow them to freely wander the galaxy. They are mostly quarantined to their own planet and likely kept out of most armies. There would still be a few mixed into the general population, because slavers gotta slave, but not likely enough to be a notable or sizable chunk. At least not for a while.

======You should do a little side story when the mechanicus keeps finding him and installing him on bigger and bigger things until Jumper find him again. Starts with a servitor, somehow ends up within a dreadnought, then the core of a insane rogue traders ship, then in the body of a titan when the mechanicus salvages the remains of the RT ship and then finally into a Hellhound. By the end of it all Binary Saint Toaster is considered a holy relic of avenging fire sent by the Omnissiah to purge the none toasted items. An entire sect has even appeared in the Cult Mechanicus solely dedicated to the holy heat ray gun.

Imagine if Lord Toaster was the one to rediscover Phosphex too? It actually sounds like a highly amusing scenario to me if written well.

It was simply meant to be a temporary fix as he landed on Lucius and they had nothing better to hand to help fight the 'Nid plague. They had full intention to install him onto something far larger. Also I think the interactions between being a massive unstoppable titan and then turned into a tiny tank in comparison would make an even amusing monologue. And a very good reason for challenging a Hive Tyrant to a flamethrower joust.

>How will it end?

Probably with him joining the Admech on a more permanent basis, after Jumper manages to convince him that now that he actually has power and responsibility, as well as followers, he needs to act a little more responsibly with all of them. You know, channel that world ending fury into something productive without diminishing it.

I could see him leading his Admech cult to team up with one of the especially fire-loving Space Marine Chapters. ======

Cultist was sitting on my desk when I came back from the Light of Terra’s final inspection. This time she wasn’t dressed in rags or even the black leathers she adopted in an attempt to be “serious”. She wore a simple black robe with the signs of each of the four Ruinous Powers stitched into it. Khorne’s angry red symbol on her right shoulder. Tzeentch’s was a shimmering rainbow of color on her left. Nurgle’s was a green so deep it was almost black on her stomach. And Slaanesh’s seemed to be a color I had never seen before stitched directly over her groin. It was at that moment that I realized this was the first time I had seen her in weeks. I couldn’t remember the last time she had caused any real chaos on Bob either. She had broken my T-Rex out of its pen again some weeks ago, but ended up putting him back even before the peacekeepers had gotten there. I had wondered then what she was trying to tell me. Now I had a feeling I knew what it was. “This is goodbye, isn’t it?” I asked the obvious question. Part of me hoped I wouldn’t get the answer on her lips. “It is.” She uncrossed and then crossed her legs again in a way that was somehow far more sensual and powerful simply because she wasn’t playing the fool for once. “Why now, after all this time?” I stepped over to the left chair that faced my desk and sat down. Her foot twitched in my direction, but didn’t touch. “What do you care? I’m an annoyance. A failure. I can’t even tempt one mortal to side with Chaos given an entire decade and the blessings of the Four.” There was genuine hurt in her voice. I expected her eyes to tear up, but the iron in her red orbs was too thick for that. “You don’t spend a decade with someone without caring for them a little. Even if they are partly insane and obsessive.” I reached out one hand. She tensed and eased away subtly. I put it back down. “I had thought we were friends in a roundabout way.” “We weren’t supposed to be friends!” The last word was launched laced with venom. Hatred and anger flared in every inch of her. It was powerful enough her robe began to flutter. The temperature of the room rose by several degrees almost instantly. “You were supposed to pledge yourself to one of the Four! To lead the armies of Chaos in a grand and glorious crusade that would be the envy of all those before it!” “I’m sorry. That’s just not who I am.” I was a little surprised to find that I was genuinely sorry. A dark little corner of my soul had wanted to take her up on her offer. To spread my glorious influence under the banner of Chaos while honing my Song to a sinister prowess. I think she sensed that. It just seemed to twist the dagger in harder. The anger in her form died. Turned back to sorrow and pain. “I could have given you everything. They would have given you anything.” She wasn’t begging. Just stating facts. “Armies, women, men, control over life and death in all its varied forms, or power enough to bring about your deepest desires.” She slipped off the desk in one sinuous, cat-like movement to land lying across my lap. She was as light as ever. Skin peeked out from the folds of her robe. “I would have done anything to catch you. To keep you. Fulfill any desire.” Her tongue slid out of her mouth, far longer than anything that should be contained in so small a mouth. But it slipped back inside and the sensual tones died as quickly as they had begun. She seemed to shrink in my lap. The curves that had pressed the robe open drifted away like a dream. She was child-like in figure once again. “But you only want the one thing I can’t give you.” “Your lot might want to invest in trying. It could do them some good to remember there’s something besides blackness in the galaxy.” I pressed my lips to her forehead. A quick, gentle expression of affection for a pouting child. She turned insulted eyes up at me. “I keep telling you. They could be. They’re just lost.” “Like you.” She nodded. Then she simply faded out of existence. Like a lingering nightmare finally returning to the depths of memory after waking. For a few moments I simply sat there and thought about the different paths my life could have taken. Wondering if Cultist had been down the other one. But then I sighed, rose, and pressed the button on my desk that summoned my office’s clerk. A big, burly man by the name of Jack cautiously peered inside.

“Sir?” “Jack, call the clinic. Tell them I’ll be down shortly and that I want to be tested for everything.” “Ah. Yes sir.” He was confused, but military discipline prevented him from asking directly. He closed the door again. I would have sworn I could hear her giggling in my ear. But that was just wishful thinking.

======

My radio crackling to life was never a good sound to hear in the wee hours of the morning. It always meant trouble. I groggily grabbed it and pressed the button while Bea muttered sleepily beside me. “Yalo?” I mumbled something that definitely wasn’t a word into the radio. “It’s two am and all is not well.” Peridot, as per her habit, skipped the formalities all together. “It’s two am and I’m not in the mood for riddles.” I grumbled back. “The Light of Terra’s sensor grid is lighting up like a Christmas tree. There are Eldar and Dark Eldar ships by the dozen. Orks and Tyranids are landing on the planets in the next system over. There’s also hundreds of Imperium ships battling things I’ve never even heard of before. System registers them as Necrons. Somebody called the Tau also showed up and are firing at a whole bunch of different Imperium ships with more high tech gear than I can easily identify. Pretty much everybody who’s anybody just showed up in our backyard and are punching the shit out of each other.” I was half-dressed and halfway to the port by the time she finished. “Give me alarms. All of them. I want every able bodied man at their posts now. Reserves, regulars, everyone.” Peridot wasn’t one to argue at least. She cut the radio. A moment later every broadcasting device on Bob started blaring the alarm everyone knew but hoped never to hear. Invasion protocols meant nearly every man who could stand, see lightning, and hear thunder would report to their nearest army center. Weapons were being unlocked, armor handed out, and men formed into Troops ready for deployment as soon as orders came in. Off-worlders were told to get out, stay in their rooms, they would be put in line with everyone else. Thankfully Bea was right behind me as I reached the port. The shuttle ride was short and hard burning enough that I say stars for most of the way. But I was standing on the bridge of the Light of Terra as quickly as anyone could have managed. Not that the readouts were any less strange in person. “Why the fuck did half the galaxy just show up here, now, and start a free-for-all?” I swore as I looked at the wall of screens that covered the bridge’s domed walls. Each were displaying a different battle taking place the next system over. They were simulated images based on sensor data, but accurate enough to be trusted from this distance. A Tyranid Hive could be seen crash landing on a planet while Ork ships burned through the atmosphere all around it. Even in just that one picture there were millions of beings landing to try and start killing each other. “There’s something wrong.” Carwyn mumbled, apparently not even hearing my question. I turned to see him staring at a seemingly blank monitor. He typed something into the console in front of him. The screen shifted to a few black hunk of space. “Something is very wrong.” “What is it?” I strode over and looked as well. I could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on us. “Fate is coming unhinged at the seams.” His iron mask was back in place again. Even still I could see traces of fear in those utterly white eyes. “Something is dragging all of destiny into itself. And in this direction… a black wolf howls.” “Navigators! Fire up the Cogitator. I want a path around as much of the chaos as we can manage to that spot in space.” “But, sir, there’s nothing there.” The head Void Walker navigator protested. “By the time we get there, there’s going to be.” I promised him. This time my tone didn’t brook any argument. They scrambled. Signals were sent to the ground forces and shuttles started lifting off. Each filled with hundreds of soldiers who would be needed to keep our massive engine of war running.

Marceline eased through the chaos to my side. There was nothing of her usually casual manner about her now. She had lived long enough that she knew when she could afford to play around. “Is this the final hunt then?” It wasn’t really a question. “I wish I knew.” My hand slipped into my pocket as something dropped into it. I found three objects there. One carved stone, the other smooth gemstone, and the third a faintly humming metal sphere. I glanced over at Marceline. She smiled enigmatically. For the briefest of moments, her eyes shimmered with an all to familiar blue light. But then she was herself again. I resisted the urge to laugh. It seemed there were still loopholes I knew nothing about. “Sir!” A younger Void Walker burst into my thoughts. “The Cogitator has found four paths free of sortees. You need only determined which one to take.” I glanced down at my screen and saw the courses laid out on the console. Each seemed suspiciously clear of any of the conflicts. Either someone was tampering or there were traps down each. But there were no other clues that would let me guess which was down which path. Except… someone had laid each path down with a different color. A vibrant red, a deep green, a shimmering blue, and a fleshy pink. I smiled and wondered just how many hands were stirring the pot at this point. “Take the fourth one.” “Aye aye Lord Commissar!”

======I won’t bore you with the details of what came after that. They’re easy enough to glean if one knows how these kinds of stories go. There was a Chaos infused ship that the Changer of Ways placed in our path. Unfortunately it was no match for a ship literally immune to the Warp and all its sorceries. One could always hear the frustrated scream rip through space as the Light of Terra warped with her nose all but touching the undead battleship, ramming into it at full speed. At the path’s end lay a horrifying creation of ages so far distant, those who worked on it had likely been the first to wander the space between planets. A man who was no longer a man stood there with the machine working behind him. Real space and Warp space were bleeding together at the edges. This machine was dragging them into one single realm. Carwyn’s dread had been the presence of Slaanesh herself breathing down his neck. All this he explained to me in a booming, resounding voice. It all had the air of something he had rehearsed in his mind repeatedly up until this point. He had seen the future, he had seen all possible paths, but he had been unable to believe I would choose the harder path. The one where I set aside all my powers and abilities. Left them sealed in their gem. After all, how could a being as ancient and powerful as himself could conceive of such a thing. One life and a miserable planet were little enough cost to keep his abilities. I let the green gem fall from my fingers. The Black Beast howled in triumph so loudly that even the arrogant machine on his pedestal heard it. He staggered, flabbergasted as the machine began shutting down. Ripping itself apart. Even as it fell apart, my powers began to return. Like a muscle kept cramped so long that the ability to stretch it was a relief all on its own. But instead of singing, I recited a poem. It carried all the power I could muster and even more. The dam burst over the man of iron. And he came apart at the seams. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T3dpghfRBHE And in the end, I went home. The warring tribes around us felt the shockwaves of what had happened. They left, knowing something had been unleashed even though their universe had been saved. It was not the end of the war. Not by many, many millennia. But, for a moment, those capable of doing so dared to hope there was another way.

======

The next day found me alone in my office. My return, the events of the alien station, and the ripple of energy escaping from it had caused no end of questions to erupt from those around me. Carwyn was, more than anyone, eager and believed himself most deserving of those answers. But I needed time to think. To figure out what the next steps would be. So I had asked for a day to myself. People grumbled, but a single day seemed little enough time to wait. It wasn’t that I didn’t know what to do next. I had thousands of ideas. Each of them piled on top of each other. Possibilities that had been locked away for a decade were now open again. The Tower offered a wealth of opportunities if I could learn how to tap it. Certain Jobs could be taught to my followers to transform them from a competent force to one this universe had never seen. Kamen Rider belts could transform warfare as these people knew it. I could wander the many worlds and simply see what it had to offer. Except responsibility had layered itself on top of my desires. I had a planet, its moon, and a space station to look after. Along with my motley population. My people depended on me. They needed stability, leadership, direction. I couldn’t simply go wandering off without leaving someone in command. And half of them would only follow me or one of the girls. My thoughts swirled and wandered without making many decisions at all. Half a day passed before I realized that part of me was stalling. I was waiting for something. A sign, an answer to my thoughts that didn’t rely on my own judgement. I wanted someone else to make the decision for me. That thought brought a curse to my lips. I sat heavily into my chair and leaned back. “A decade making all the decisions and at the first opportunity I expect someone else to take over the job.” “It is all right to want a break. Heavy is the crown, after all.” The Woman in White finally appeared. She lounged across my desk as if she had been there the whole time. Her glowing eyes seemed amused when my gaze fixed firmly on her wooden mask. “You have seen me so many times and still…?” She giggled and sat up in a smooth, lithe motion. “I’m flattered.” “It has been a while.” I admitted, my eyes darting anywhere but the flesh and wool in front of me. “I had forgotten how fun it is to tease you.” Her right hand reached out to brush the hair at my temple. “I approve of the grey streaks. They make you look as wise as you are.” I pushed her hand away, but not unkindly. Her touch was cold, yet burned, and somehow tickled all at once. “Am I on to another world then?” She shook her head “This one is not yet done with you. However, you must decide on which direction you will travel next.” “I thought you three made all the decisions. You have thus far.” “There is still only one Path.” She assured me. “There are simply many ways to travel this portion of it.” I could have asked the obvious question, but I didn’t. After a moment of waiting, she continued. “You have made allies during your time here. Each of them but a small part of something much larger. You will be exploring most of these paths before you leave here. Some for a decade, others for only the length of a single military campaign. But which one you experience when is entirely up to you.” “So I’ll be spending time as an Ork, an Eldar, a Sister of Battle, and as a Skaven?” At the name of the rat people, she gave the impression of wrinkling her nose. Even though I couldn’t see her face. “Not them. Their time has passed. But the others you will. And more. For their paths will lead to others.” She relaxed and reached for my hair again. I intercepted her hand, so she ran those odd fingers along the back of it instead. “You may even find yourself asking after the child of Chaos before the end.” “That I very much doubt.” I pulled my hand away again. “The price for the power her lords offer is higher than I wish to pay.” “You may be surprised. Their methods are dark, but that is only because this world is a nightmare unto itself.” She leaned back, spun, and shimmied across my desk to stand on its other side. “Choose your path and we will assist it. And do not discount the Orks so easily. They have more potential for your art than you could possibly find in others.” Then she was gone. And I was left alone again with my thoughts.

======I’d like to say I carefully considered all possibilities and weighed my choices. But really there was only one option when it came to what I wanted to see first. Carwyn was down at the practice grounds, overseeing the nightly training routine of his soldiers. Contrary to popular belief, the Eldar in our community were under his direct command instead of mine. It was simpler that was for both of us. He was allowed to maintain his independence and I could slowly pick up their tactics without making too many mistakes. Still, we worked so closely together that in practice it made little difference. He removed his green and white helmet. A sheen of sweat hung on his skin like a glittering curtain. Somehow it only added to his overall appeal. It just make me smirk in amusement. He returned the expression. We didn’t talk about how I could see his true gender now. We both knew the reason was that he couldn’t simply tamper in my mind anymore. “And lo, on the thirteenth hour he emerged from his isolation to preach to his masses.” Carwyn’s wry, teasing tone managed to sound prophetic in the same breath. But he spoiled the effect with a soft chuckle. “You should hear how they think of you now. You have spawned from the mists between Chaos and Reality to show all the truth path to peace. They’ve decided this past decade was simply you testing those you encountered and determining the truly worthy.” I groaned in ran my hands through my hair. I had forgotten about the legend trailing behind me. It looked like it had caught up along with all my powers and taken a turn for the religious. “I’m not some messiah figure.” I complained. Carwyn wrapped his arm around my shoulder and continued to smirk at me. Nobody who had been sparring as hard as he had been had any right to smell so pleasant. “It seems a habit of your people in this time to make saints where there are none. I believe it is to help keep hope alive.” His hand patted my shoulder a few times. “Best to… what is that expression you used? ‘Lean into the skid’?” “I might as well. When they hear about the next step on my Path it’s only going to fan the flames.” “Oh?” “I’ve been sent a vision to go on a pilgrimage and visit many of the societies of this world. To experience their culture firsthand.” Carwyn stared at me hard for a moment and I felt a nudge against the barriers of my mind. A reflexive gesture more than him actually trying to break in. “That is almost the truth.” Amazement crept into his voice. “Close enough to it to make no difference.” I admitted. “I look forward to the sermon where you announce that to the faithful then.” His smirk returned and widened. I shoved him away and laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll have a follow-up speech to make after the ‘sermon’.” It was strange to watch the humor drain from his face when he realized what those words meant. I had expected him to be happy to show me his culture in full. Especially when I had time to devote myself to experiencing it instead of just gleaning details from the sidelines. “I… am not sure that is wise.” He muttered hesitantly. “I don’t see why not. We’ve spent a decade making inroads in this direction. Eldar living and working and battling beside us silly Humans. Not being horribly betrayed or belittled in the process. Eldrad even seemed proud of what we managed to accomplish.” My protestations didn’t seem to convince my friend. “A decade may as well be a minute to some of us. I have tried to tell you this before.” “Well, yeah, you said you guys were long lived.” “Saying the Eldar are long lived is like saying a water world is wet.” His words were not unkind, but had the tone of someone who had tried to explain this to me once before. “Eldrad was a millennia old when the Imperium fractured. And that was almost eleven millennia ago.”

My mind staggered at that number. Tried to make sense of it and utterly failed. It was simply too massive. Carwyn saw this and spoke again. “He has seen over one hundred and fifty generations of your kind come and go. And while he is the oldest of us, there are many who remember those ancient times when the original hatred was kindled.” “By the Nine.” I cursed. That had allowed me to get some sense of the sheer scale we were talking about, but even then… What had Humanity been doing eight thousand years before the birth of Christ? Likely they had just discovered farming and domesticated cats at that point. “Now you see. The grudge will not die so quickly or easily. It is a good first step and an encouraging one, but my kin on the Craftworlds would not be enjoyable company.” He smiled fondly and patted me on the shoulder again. “Maybe you should check in on that Sister of yours. It has been a while.” “You only remember her fondly because you were getting laid at the time.” I got to enjoy Carwyn sputtering in actual embarrassment for a moment before he recovered. “But I’m serious Carwyn. I’ve heard you talk about your people. The Bonesingers and the Harlequins especially. You know what a strong attachment to music I have. Even if I put it off for another decade or two, would your objection carry any less weight? I do not have millenia to try and prove myself worthy of the trust of your people.” I paused, remembered something. “Besides, Eldrad invited me, remember?” He sighed and rubbed at his right temple with two fingers. An odd gesture of frustration, but not a new one. “Somethings I think you are an avatar of the Laughing One himself.” “Not yet he isn’t.” A soft, giggling voice broke into our conversation. We whirled and came face to face with an figure dressed like a circus had exploded in his wardrobe. His long coat was crafted from small diamond-shaped plates that shimmered and shifted in color with even the smallest movements. Underneath it, he wore the armor of a common Eldar soldier. Except it was painted a dark black that drank in the light instead of reflecting it. His face was covered by a mask painted porcelain white and devoid of any markings. I had no idea how he even saw through the solid mask without eye holes. “But, the day is still young.” The figure held a thin, shapely hand out towards me. The movement was accompanied by afterimages of his arm moving in all different directions. But when they stopped moving they synced up again. “Come on now, the play is about to start. You don’t want to miss you cue.” The figure sounded like a madman, giggling between every word as if they were each an exquisite joke only he understood. I glanced over to Carwyn. He had his head bowed. “A truly grand and unexpected entrance, honored Harlequin.” “Tut tut tut!” The giggling voice turned as sharp and melodical as a high note on a flute. “You have no time for frivolities. Set the wheels in motion while I take the new player backstage.” Carwyn looked a little annoyed at the brush off, but kept the smile on his face nonetheless. He paused only long enough to send a short, reassuring message my way. He would tell the population and keep the planet from blowing up. The runes would tell him when we would meet again. I thanked him just as silently. “Sir Harlequin, is there enough time for me to gather a few things and say some farewells?” I asked politely. The figure tilted his head to one side as if listening to something far off. Then he nodded. “There is a short intermission for you to do what is required. But be warned, once the music begins you may not have time to return for some time. Meet me at the park as quick as you can.” I nodded my head and lopped off at a quick jog. ======“You’re going off to study under the mad god of songs and laughter Carwyn told us about?” I had found Bea in the officer’s mess and pulled her into the pantry for a little privacy. The cooks had given us a few knowing looks, but a scowl had sent them back to work. “I didn’t think once I had made my choice they would come this quickly.” I tried to explain. “At the very least I expected to have a few weeks as we flew the Light of Terra out to wherever Eldrad is based.”

“I guess I shouldn’t complain. I didn’t have to worry about where you were for almost a decade now.” She sighed, frustrated but not angry. Her lovely eyes turned back towards me. “I just really wish we had some choice in the matter. I’m getting tired of being jerked this way and that.” “So come with us.” The giggling voice interrupted our conversation as if he had been here the whole time. By the way the space was suddenly even more cramped, I knew he hadn’t been. We both just about jumped out of our skins and swore loudly. “It is no trouble to take two players instead of one. The Great Fool would likely find the jest quite amusing.” “Are you all like this?” She asked the rainbow-coated figure. His blank mask turned to regard her. Somehow I knew he was smiling. “Dear lady of the wicked smile, we play the parts we are given. We enter on cue and exit the stage when the act is over. We serve but we also lead. We are the fools in a universe that takes itself far too seriously.” The porcelain mask leaned in despite already being suffocatingly close. “We lead from the shadows as advisors and assassins, from the front as glorious heroes, and even serve as the righteous fist delivering vengeance from time to time. In short, we are as we are as he wills us to be.” Bea considered all this with the outer calm that those unfamiliar with her would mistake for utter apathy. It was just how her face rested, no matter the body she was shoved into. “You could have just said yes.” She chided the figure. He seemed to find this funnier than anything he normally giggled at and broke out in a peel of rich laughter. “Oh yes, he will be pleased.” His mask turned in my direction. “Are you almost finished? The curtain will soon rise.” “Just a few more stops.” I assured him as I moved towards the door.

Peridot and Marceline were, thankfully, must easier to convince. “You’ve got Bea with you.” Marceline said as way of a farewell as if that explained everything. Then again, maybe it did. “Oh, good, I can turn that second moon into a mobile battle platform after all.” Peridot chose to be flippant, which was better than hurt at least. She didn’t like being left behind anymore than Bea. But the Harlequin assured me that three was right out. Because then we would have to find a fourth and who has time for that. When I pointed out I already had a fourth, he simply pretended I was mumbling my lines and he couldn’t understand me. The antics seemed to annoy Peridot and she changed her mind about wanting to go. I wondered if perhaps that was the point. In the end Bea and I walked with our unnamed Harlequin guide to the massive Webway gate that sat at the middle of our complex’s park. I had my pistols, my axe, Vielia’s seed, and The Stone. Everything else I was told would be provided. Bea, perhaps more pessimistic, had brought along a few Kamen Rider belts. Just in case. They seemed to amuse the Eldar as if they were some kind of quaint toy. Into the webway we strode. Along it’s paths until we were somewhere else.