What I fight for

VIII Friends and foes

VIII Friends and foes

They flew back in silence. Sebastian calmed himself down. It was just a dead end, not a defeat yet. He would find the threat some other way. Inquisitor Dana sent him in Migdonia sector for a reason, during all previous tasks he has found cursed witchcraft or other traces of the ruinous powers. Alas, most of the time it already had been unleashed. Here, the catastrophe hasn't started yet, therefore could be stopped. The God-Emperor would guide him. Sebastian scolded himself for his temper: back then in the cave he lost it for a moment - the Astartes had an opportunity to strike. Pison would not stop him, not in his state for sure: the acolyte still was weak after the many dangerous plunges in the Empyrean. He was a gifted psyker, but a delicate and special tool, not for stopping a frenzy space marine. Just as the inquisitor himself. Titus sat motionless at the other corner of the compartment; Sebastian felt that the Aquilla amulet was filled with His power, how could that barbarian use it? The inquisitor knew, that the Astartes wasn't tainted by the Chaos, he wouldn't tolerate this as just as Matteo. But to have faith, to conduct the power of the Emperor? Giving the sacred image to Titus, Sebastian told him that the Aquilla was a poison to tainted enemies, that he could burn a possessed with it, weakening the evil spirit. But the vile entities turned out numerous and strong, not as strong as the one banished by Tapio, but strong enough. Titus had a faith, though it was a strange one, perverted and probably a mysterious to himself. Ataraxis embraced them.
- You are the last to come back, inquisitor, - the tech-priest waited for him in the mooring box clouded with incense, - servitors are busy with the vessel which brought the female. The ship returned first is ready, inquisitor, - the Martian meant the flyer used by Tapio. Sebastian has received the short report of the sniper, - what do you wish to do with Luisa's body? It will make a good servitor.
- No, take what you need, burn the body, her service has ended. Do not cancel that request for a weapon for her, we will find it a use. Look to the Titus's helmet. It has a priority over other ammunition. Proceed.
- As you wish, inquisitor, - as always, the servo-skull said goodbye, when the massive figure of the priest has already turned back.
- Titus, the servitor will assist you, stay here, - the robed machine froze in the open hatch. - Pison, take a rest, - Sebastian came to the deck, filled with the strong smell of sacred oil - the servitors were in the middle of their work. Jacob in full armour stood on one knee, his helmet laid next to him.
- Mentor, - the man lifted his head. He noticed the familiar look in those eyes: a mix of wounded pride and arrogance, grown from the same root. Those powerful families: they had means to deliver the best servants to the Imperium, and the very same houses gave birth to the worst renegades.
- Stand up, acolyte. All other chases brought nothing to our search, - he felt a tiniest glimpse of joy in the mind of the man: the acolyte was satisfied that no one gained the glory this night. A personal glory - one more senseless concept, Sebastian couldn't root out of his pupil.
- I am sorry to hear that, master, - said Jacob sincerely, - and I mourn Luisa and rejoice for her, she finally has earned her peace. I've seen her, - the inquisitor nodded silently, - also I am sorry to confirmed your assumptions about inquisitor Kacper. He acted very straightforwardly. As you said, mentor, he took me for the weakest link, - the man grinned, hiding his true heartache. Sebastian had no time for this, especially now.
- The weakest limb in the strongest body is still strong in itself. I am His hand, Jacob, and I lift only strong weapons in the name of the Emperor. Clean yourself, we will talk later.
- Yes, master, - the man bowed and went out, glancing at the box, hiding Titus. What was his true position on the Astartes? Envy for such a power, offence for not being told all of it, or suspicions toward his mentor? The mix of those and many more emotions swarmed on the surface of Jacob's mind. To find out was easy, but such intervention would not stay unnoticed, and that would cost him the acolyte. As he said, the man was a strong weapon and Sebastian couldn't spare any of it. Luisa showed weakness, overwhelmed by her past she has degraded in days from the powerful fighter to an ordinary warrior ready to die. And he let her go, counting as one more casualty of the eternal war Ataraxis' crew waged. The ship has seen several inquisitors, many acolytes and uncountable number of warriors.
Sebastian came into his cabin. The candles had been lighted up just before his arriving, a cup of hot restorative drink stood at the table. The inquisitor relaxed his face and let himself a slight smile - the old servant prepared everything for his return. He put off his coat and Lorica, drank the cup and sat before the image of the Emperor in the corner.
- You have saved him, - Sebastian put the Aquilla back to its place, - do you protect Titus just so he can fulfill his role? Please, show me what master Matteo had seen. Guide me, through the darkness, - he closed his eyes and started meditation.

Meditation has given nothing. Agents on Abderra and Olynthum found not a tiniest trace of witchcraft. Six Terran days have passed. Sebastian spoke to his acolytes separately - discussing the actions of Kacper and recalling the prints in the warp, and together - trying to figure out the next step. No reasonable action came to their minds. The walk at the Coal Day was the ambiguous move from the start and brought nothing but troubles. They need anything to begin with, any misbehavior of unusual cause, any bizarre rumor, but they had nothing. He didn't address to inquisitor Balek, but kept an eye on him - the ship belonged to the Ordo Xenos hasn't left the sector too. The clue was brought by unexpected ally.
- Inquisitor, are you available to conversation right now? - the Mechanicus asked him through the vox system in his cabin.
- Yes, techno-priest, - Sebastian opened the hatch, letting the servo-skull in, - what is it?
- Abnormal emission was spotted on , - clicked the automata.
- Was it warp radiation? How did you know? - Pheres was a small planet or a big satellite, used to be a mining colony and drilled dry to the core. It was completely abandoned for the last couple millennia. The space around the dead rock was under surveillance by the sector's fleet preventing it from becoming a base for the smugglers or other illegal elements.
- It was nothing even close to a warp-jump and not a known radiation, inquisitor. Local techno-priests have informed me, inquisitor.
- Did you ask them?
- The adepts of Omnissiah share the knowledge among allies, - grinning skull soaring before his eyes, - it is a standard protocol relating to several topics. The lives of Ataraxis' crew don't belong to any of it, inquisitor.
- I see. Please, connect me with Chasseur and then with the fleet commander. Prepare the ship to a flight, techno-priest.
- Yes, inquisitor, - the skull flew away. So, the Martian communicates with other Mechanicus on regular basis and he knew nothing of it. But how could he anyway, since the priest controlled all vox-channels and Sebastian himself delegated the total control over Ataraxis to him from the beginning. The Mechanicus was hard to understand, he wasn't a human being anymore and pursued his own interests. The inquisitor knew one thing, if the devotee of the Machine-God sees a traitor in him he would kill him immediately: the stable Imperium was crucially important to the Adeptus Mechanicus in their hunt for knowledge. A human life, even if it belonged to an inquisitor, didn't mean much to the engine-seer.
- Inquisitor Silver, how can I assist? - Kacper's voice, changed by long distance connection emerged in the cabin.
- Have you heard? - Sebastian didn't hide his feelings to another inquisitor, so bluntly doubting his actions.
- I have, - chuckled Balek, - do you want to invite me for another smugglers hunt? Though, it is still possible that the enemy revealed himself by this accident. To your luck, Sebastian.
- You are wasting my time, are you in, Kacper? I'm calling the fleet right now.
- I am. It will be our last chance to work together, I am leaving this sector. But no rush deployment, we will need to discuss our actions before landing.
- We will. Keep the channel open for navigation details, inquisitor Kacper. The Emperor protects!
- And we are his hands, - the vox switched off. In a moment the admiral was receiving instructions from Sebastian.

Both inquisitors stood alone in a beautifully decorated cabin. The walls and the celling were covered with the glistening green fabric, dimming the lamps behind; trophies were hanged around: skulls of xenos and monsters, massive tusks and claws, some alien weapons; big oval table took the center of the room, it was empty but for few objects. Enzo left them, disappearing through a hidden door.
- You may speak frankly, inquisitor Silver, - Kacper was in full power armour and armed, whitehaired head gave him a dubious smile, the helmet stood on the table, - I school my servants well. This chat will stay between us.
- You obviously a master of yours, since you have time to meddle with mine, - calmly answered Sebastian, who wore his usual suite - the Lorica Musculata under the coat. A lonely las-pistol at his belt.
- I am just a concerned citizen, - Kacper looked at him confidently, - I saw a servant of the Emperor confused and tried to figure out the trouble. I admit failing it, moreover the thing bothering young Jacob now is on my mind too.
- Titus is my tool and I use him in His name. There is no reason for his origin bothering anyone, - Sebastian was alone in the heart of Chasseur. The servitor was waiting at the mooring box with the flyer that brought him here.
- There is, inquisitor, - chuckled Kacper, - I am sending my men with him down there. You owe me the truth. Does the naivety of your acolyte spread all over yourself as well, Sebastian? We guard mankind from all kind of threats, including radicals among our ranks. It is tempting to step over the line having so much power, isn't it? I am older than you, Sebastian, and I have conquered my temptations. Have you?
- I had the best mentor to teach me, Kacper. There is only God-Emperor's rule and His Imperium. Titus is the Astartes under my command, are you satisfied?
- Of course not! Look here, - Balek grabbed a human skull off the table, - it is my most precious trophy. He was a governor, brave and active. So busy with prosperity of his world, that went into the trade with the xenos, - Kacper put the skull back and knocked on it, - it reminds me how trying their best people commit crime not understanding what they are doing. In the name of the Holy Inquisition, I am demanding that you, Sebastian Silver, reveal the origin of the space marine at your command. Who is Titus? - he felt, that Kacper was convinced in his guilt. A lie would cost him life. They were psykers of similar potent, but his interrogator wore the power suite. Old face meant nothing, there were no weak inquisitors. Well, he knew where he came. Chasseur would destroy Ataraxis in open conflict, to be pursued by another Ordo was an unacceptable thing too.
- He is the Grey Knight, - he stated, revealing the secret.
- I know this holy force, - nodded Kacper and attacked. Sebastian saw it coming and stroke back. Both psykers froze staring at each other, trembling with the struggle. In this wrestle he was a losing side since the ground belonged to the enemy and his retinue would show any moment. Sebastian took a chance: the psykers resembled clenched swordsmen and he prepared a weak defense cutting off his attack. Kacper kept pushing and his mental blow broke through the block, he grabbed the Siver's mind as a prize. That would be the end if he hadn't sent a counter strike at the same time. The other psyker was unprotected for a fraction of a moment, astonished by the unexpected hit, and Sebastian burned his mind. He did so blindly, just striking the pulsing conscious around him - the inquisitor himself laid on the floor, in agonizing pain, almost forgetting who and where he was. The mental blow severed his brain from controlling the body. But his mind withstood, he stayed alive, now he must stay clear from the suspicions, protect his secret and continue to serve the Emperor. He knew he was innocent. Sebastian still couldn't stand up, when another sentient being emerged in the room, he sent one more lethal charge with his mind - somebody fell down. The time was running away.
- Servitor? - he gasped in the vox, coughing with blood. The red spots would be found, both psykers bled from the damage. Kacper left him no other option.
- Yes, master, - the robed serf answered quickly.
- Have you hacked the ship's vox system? - he made himself crawl to the dead inquisitor.
- Yes, master. The Chasseur is less protected from within than Ataraxis. The alarm has not been raised. I blocked the vox system of the Astropath.
- Did he try to use it?
- Numerously, master.
- Deal with the pict-surveillance, I am coming.
Sebastian wiped his face with coated shoulder, but his view was still blur. Bloodshot eyes of Kacper stared accusingly, they screamed: "They all said of their innocence". He put off his gloves and laid hands on the dead head. The Balek's soul has gone, but the emotional print was there, dissolving in the warp, and he used it.
- Captain, we came to arrangement with inquisitor Silver, - Sebastian told with Kacper's voice in the vox of the dead man, - proceed according the plan. Begin the deployment immediately, we will meet you on the surface later. Let the Emperor be with you!
- For the God-Emperor! - came the answer and he turned the vox off. Sebastian stood up, holding for the table, and threw up - more biological traces of the grim truth. No time to deal with it, there is slight hope that the servitors would clean this up automatically. Otherwise he would call the mortal combat an intensive negotiation. Enzo was lying next to the different wall, not where he went out. New jaw glistened, with all augmentation the acolyte looked like a broken servitor, though he was probably someone like Pison, a gifted and righteous agent. Sebastian could walk now, but had two bodies to take with him through the ship, one of which was clad in the power armour.
- What's going on here? - an armoured giant broke in, who called him? Doesn't matter!
- Listen to me, Mischek! - it took some effort, but the ogryn became an obedient automate now, - Kacper and Enzo are sick, help them go to my ship, I will heal them, - the giant with the confused face gently picked up corpses, - show me the astropath cabin first.
- Who is here? - outside the highly decorated room of Kacper, the rest interior of Chasseur was as dark and utilitarian as Ataraxis'. The ogryn lead him to the astropath's chamber, inside the protected cabin sat a fragile woman, blind and frightened. - Traitor!
- Get out my way! - Sebastian raced along the corridors, rare servants and crew members scattered away before his authority; the bad temper of the Kacper worked for his killer's benefit now. Had the tenants of the ship dared to look closer they would notice the mindless eyes of the ogryn and the dead psykers hanging like ragdolls in his hands. And the stumbling guest. Sebastian felt burning guilt: his mind was stained with blood of His loyal servants. They came to the deck, the servitors ignored them, shuttles with the Kacper's men had flew away. With his own forces they would search the region of Pheres where the signal came. The Imperial Navy make a scene patrolling the area of the hollow sphere and sending intelligence crafts to the surface. The fleet gone leaving two small vessels of the Inquisition to do a proper search.
- Welcome back, master, - the robed servitor bowed, awaiting him outside the flyer.
- We are leaving, say the Chasseur's tech-priest, that inquisitor Kacper is flying away with me. Mischek, put them inside and come back, - Sebastian hardly stood on his legs. He must endure. The whirr of artificial legs reminded him of the last obstacle. This faithful servant of inquisitor Balek was immune to hypnosis or his rank. Two-headed dog was racing towards him, if it had real throats instead of dynamics, it would probably growl with anger. The servitor knocked off another automate, stood in its way. If the machine hadn't raised the alert, he still had a chance to escape. He drew his pistol with shaking hand and called Mischek aloud, his mind was too exhausted. Sebastian heard heavy stumping behind, - stop this broken servitor! Smash it!
The ogryn clashed with the dog, and he lowered his gun. He needed to make sure there are as few evidences as possible and stayed outside the flyer. Mischek being under his control acted slower than usual, but the two-headed servitor took him for another obstacle on the way to its master and jumped on the Ogryn instead of avoiding it. The metal beast knocked off the giant and ran him over, scratching the armour, but big arms grabbed the hind legs and stopped it. The bone paw got pulled off, but the metallic one was stronger. The ogryn pulled the servitor to himself and they rolled across the floor. Mischek managed to break apart one head, but sharp mouth of the other was treating to rip his face off. Sebastian stepped closer and shot the servitor in the skull couple times before it went motionless.
- Take in inside and come back swiftly! - the ogryn returned, he was scratched, his hands bleeding. The inquisitor walked with him to the gates of the compartment, - when they ask you, what happen, you will say that wanted to play with the dog, and the master left you here. Now sleep! - Mischek fell down on the deck, - servitor, we are leaving!

- Stay here, do not let anyone in, - Sebastian almost fell out the flyer when he left it. He closed the box and stopped the coming servitors. The flying skull of the techno-priest was among them, - the flyer is occupied by inquisitor Kacper, we will use it for landing soon.
- As you wish, inquisitor, - creaked the skull, - the departure of your crew went well.
- Put them through in my cabin, priest, - Sebastian walked into his compartment holding on to the walls. Inside he found the fresh potion and lighted candles - the serf must have just left his room. The inquisitor looked at his bed, he hasn't felt so weak in a long time. But there were no rest in the near future. He plead his innocence before Him one more time, tossed away the dirty coat, sipped the drink and switched the vox on. Pison was already on it.
- I was just going to report you, master, - the acolyte was calm but upset.
- What's going on? - demanded Sebastian, - Have you met Kacper's men? Have you landed?
- They are gone, master! - cut in Jacob, - soon after coming in the atmosphere. We've changed the route to search for their trace.
- No, - Sebastian's tired mind swarmed with thoughts and options, - no connection at all?
- They stated the beginning of the operation and confirmed the meeting point, - answered Pison, - they hit the atmosphere sooner than us and checked in then. Since we've heard nothing.
- Come back to your route, go to the meeting point and begin the task. I had a tough talk with inquisitor Kacper, we came to agreement, but there is a chance he is playing a double game. I will join you soon, let the Emperor be with you!
- The Emperor protects, - the choir answered him.
Either there are some traitors or Kacper's men took him for one. The chance of an accident is too low to consider. And it would be too easy. He must go down there, despite his state. If the tip from his superior led to Pheres, he will not have another chance to catch enemies. And he couldn't let his crew be ambushed by the men of the too suspicious inquisitor. Too many faithful have already died today, that was enough.
- Bring in stimulants and nutrition. And prepare the armour, - Sebastian switched off the vox. Stepped to the high desk and wrote down in hurry: "Investigate abnormal activity on Pheres. Lost connection with part of deployed group. Landing myself, - he glanced at the golden image of the Emperor and added, - Dubious behavior of Kacper Balek of the Ordo Xenos". Sebastian checked the chronometer and added the time of the report. He went to the astropath. Boethius met him with surprised look. Though the deaf man looked worse than usual himself. The astropath read the message, nodded and took his working chair. In an hour, during which he calmed himself down not daring to remember the horrific deed before the sensible psyker, the time of sealing came. Sebastian pronounced "Pheres", putting in the word meaning of uncertainty and mystery. The twisted face of Boethius grimaced even harder and the sending was over. He thanked the Astropath and stepped across the threshold.
- Something wrong, Boethius? - he turned and asked the man, who looked to at him uncertainty. Sebastian stepped back and write his question on some paper.
- Jus two different seal-words at the same day, master. It is unusual, - answered the Astropath.
- Different situations, Boethius, - he nodded to the deaf man, - take a rest.
He went into the corridor, cold with anger. It was useless to ask the Astropath what was that message about and how many were there: the fragile mind of Boethius was just a hand receiving and sending closed envelopes. The content of which didn't stayed in his memory. Only one man aboard Ataraxis besides him could use the astropath on his own. The cabin was filled with sacred oils - the frame with his armour stood there.
- Master, I am ready to serve, - the serf turned to him from table. A tray with food and drugs stayed there.
- I was with Boethius, Miglior, - said Sebastian, remembering that he was unarmed and exhausted. Old servant blinked and darted on him not speaking a word. An injector hit the cuirass. Even filled with medicaments, putting in the right place it could cause death. Inquisitor pushed the man away, - why?!
- You betrayed his memory, his ship! - Miglior tossed the tray in his face; hot liquid touched his cheek. The servant was twice his age and declined major rejuvenation, saying that his position didn't require a young man body. Now he must have felt sorry for that. The inquisitor kicked him, almost falling back himself and grasped the traitor, pushing him into the standing power suite. The man screamed when the pikes pierced him.
- What are you talking about, old idiot?! - Sebastian stepped back, giving the servant a last chance to explain himself, - you know me since I was nobody here, mentor Matteo chose me, left Ataraxis and you under my command. You've been the one I share my burden with. For the Emperor's sake, you have operated on Titus when nobody else saw him!
- And what is this mysterious mutant but a treason?! - spat Miglior, - if he a sacred Angel of Death, made by His will, why do you hide him from your own crew, traitor?! Saint Matteo had no such secrets and he have served the Emperor for centuries, you corrupted renegade! - with the last words old servant raced on him head down and shoved Sebastian to the table in rage. The psyker was still unable to use his powers and simply grabbed something from the table. It was a data-slate for field operations. Reinforced corner hit the back of Miglior's head causing jet of blood.
- You forgot your place, serf, - Sebastian stepped on the thin neck of the old man and broke it. Breathing heavily, he turned on the vox, - Mechanicus, help me put on the armour. And here is body for a servitor you asked.

- For the God-Emperor! - the man barked in the vox and announced, - here we go, comrades-in-arms! Take us to the surface, Tymon.
- Yes, captain! - one soldier saluted energetically and went into the cock-pit.
The rest of them showed their eagerness and readiness with a joyful "Huzzah!". They all were tough veterans, tested by war and melted in one well-oiled mechanism ready to kill. These men would be happy to kill him if receive such an order. Many of them would be glad to do so without the command - he felted their hatred. They didn't hide it. He didn't blame them and neither felt any discomfort - just another temporally allies who could shot him in the back. After his brothers had done so, he didn't wonder when the rest of the galaxy acted the same.
- Captain Radoslaw, testing, - his vox came alive, - do you read? We are landing, searching the area. Anyone but us and inquisitor Sebastian's men are enemy to kill on the spot. Captures are welcomed but don't risk your lives for those traitor scums, comrades!
- Yes, cap! - the chorus barked back. Titus said nothing, humans didn't need a confirmation from the killer of their brothers-in-arms. He sat alone at the very back of the aircraft. It was bigger than the ones belonged to Sebastian, but he felt himself out of proportion anyway. The vessel had a big rear door ramp, and two three-chairs wide rows of the low seats. The compartment could accommodate over forty men, now it had thirty, including the one went into the cabin. His name was Tymon, prompted the memory. Mortals and their names. He would forget their faces and the very deployment in no time. His memory held only fights that have proved his supremacy on the battlefield. The Eldar in the desert, those possessed in the city, - they have been remembered. But Titus wouldn't survive if he would have let himself be reckless. Never. The landing could be stopped with an air defense's blast any time, he would take one of this grav-chutes, the humans wore. If there were enemies on the surface the power suite would protect him. If they had a heavy armour, he was ready - the tech-priest granted him a melta-charge. If there are more than one - he would find a way out. The psyker warned him, that the other inquisitor knew about him and wanted the truth. Not getting one, Kacper may try to seize him or kill right away, so Titus should be careful. He would not show these men his back down there, he was with them, but he didn't answer their call. To attack him aboard the craft would be a suicide and the humans would not go for it. These veterans and he were alike: the vessel was carrying twenty-one survivors. Luisa and Angel flew around him slowly - they were in the space. He wasn't completely alone among the hostile allies after all.

- When you finish, come with me, master, - the robed servitor put the usual flask and ration on a seat, removing his thin limbs back inside the cloak, - the tech-priest wants to see you, master.
- Lead me, - Titus swallowed the food and put on his hood out of habit. He has been surely known to everybody important on Ataraxis already.
- Please go first at a slow pace, - the servitor stepped aside clearing the way to the exit, - I have been authorized to stop you if you move too fast, master.
Titus didn't doubt the machine and left the deck for the first time, pacing slowly ahead the servitor who pointed him time to time. Ataraxis as he thought turned out to be a small ship, so not much tips were required. Ascending the stairs, he saw a corridor with personal cabins, but was told to go another way. The domain of the Martian was brightly lighted open space overwhelmed with all kind of mysterious machinery and containers. In this disarray the techno-priest stood as a general in the middle of a battle: seeming chaotic for outsiders, while in truth he controlled everything. Servo-skulls buzzing around, cogitators humming, some servitor limped along the line of motionless automates, lubricating it. A greased human stared at him with awe and hurriedly left his master.
- Your helmet is fixed, - the skull said to him, while the engine-seer went away from him confidently stepping over the thick cables on the floor. Titus went after him; the robed servitor didn't follow - the master of machines needed no bodyguard. The engine-seer stopped, pointing with metallic hand at the helmet on the table among other gears and details, - the visor is replaced for lesser option: the durability is the same, but no interactive display.
- I will not see the power charge and allies, - Titus nodded.
- Correct. Request has been sent, the full repair is possible, the time is unknown, - the priest pointed at another crate with his stuff, - the weapon for you, Titus. The handle has been lengthened as well as the scabbard strengthened. Try it.
- Thank you, techno-priest, - he knelt before the chest and opened it. A broad power sword laid inside in a heavy scabbard. Titus drew the blade, in his hand it was shorter than a gladius, but it was a decent power weapon, he slashed the air with series of blows, testing how it feel - it felt great, - that is a good sword.
- You accepted the work on the handle then. Put it back and come with me, - the staff stomped on the floor. The Martian stopped at some cogitator and stayed still for a couple moments. Two servo-skulls flew out a container. - It will accompany you. This one will provide a connection with Ataraxis. This one will provide you with data at short range. It both are not finished yet. I summoned you to set voice activation. You have an option to name it for your convenience. I have no means to tune the straight mental control, - the familiar emotionless voice explained monotonously, - the verbal control is the best solution.
- One looks fresh, - said Titus. Tapio, who has just joined them answered for the priest.
- It is Luisa's. Her service continues in death. I will use them too, Titus, if you don't mind, I would like to address her by the name, - the Astartes showed no objection, - then make it answer to Luisa and Angel, Mechanicus.
- Which is which? - creaked the soaring-skull of another martyr.

The shuttle plunged into Peheres' atmosphere. Through the dancing flames behind the window Titus saw the second flyer surrounded with fire. The pilot took control of the landing and aligned the vessel. The Kacper's men sat still, praying or grinding teeth.
- What the hell?! - screamed two of them simultaneously; everybody turned their heads to the right board. Titus has already seen it: another shuttle was aflame and diving uncontrollably.
- Tymon! - roared the captain in the vox.
- No response, cap! Nothing on radar!
- After them, we must see what will happen to out comrades! - Radoslaw took control of his emotions. Their flyer turned.
- It is clear, what happened to them! - not everyone on the board mastered their feelings. One closed helmet turned to him, - what smugglers have a tech to delude our gear? It is that murky Silver entrapped us!
- Watch your mouth, idiot! - he thundered in the vox, - captain, get your man in order.
- Don't you order cap, killer! Sit still, mutant! - anger voices filled the channel. Armoured figures faced the lonely stranger stiffly in the silent hull, while inside the helmets the soldiers were screaming and cursing with hatred.
- Shut up! That's an order! - Radoslaw yelled in the vox, - everybody shut up and ground your asses or you will know the penalty for mutiny! For the Emperor's sake! Tymon, where is the Sebastian's squad?
- Can't get them, cap. Ours still don't respond, - that Tymon should have answered through private channel.
- You, - captain obviously meant him, - can you connect with your master?
- I can't, - Titus really couldn't. The skull named Angel was useless at the moment. He sealed off the helmet - there were no oxygen on Pheres and the techno-priest added gas balloons to his suite, but it seemed he would have to use it before landing. Bulging containers at his back were clad in carapace, adding one more weak point to his defense. The Martian also provided him with a standard army plasma-pistol with a lengthened handle, now mag-locked to his thigh. But he couldn't use it inside the flyer. So, Titus counted on another las-riffle he received.
- Liar! - the same man who accused him for treason raised his gun and dropped dead - the Astartes shot him right in the visor.
- Stop this madness! - warned Titus not putting down his riffle.
- Don't shoot! - screamed captain, - hold your fire! - the catastrophe has been prevented. The men didn't start shooting, lowering their guns. Titus warily put his riffle away, searching for the tiniest sign of further aggression from the humans, ready to defend himself. - Titus, for the sake of this operation and considering the unfortunate fate of our comrades, hand over your weapon, - the veterans hummed approvingly and Radoslaw raised his voice, stepping out to him, - till we met inquisitor Sebastian and discover the cause of the crash. - It was a reasonable demand, considering how tense were the men. Titus slowly nodded and stepped to the man. Both skulls soared after him, as they were attached to him by invisible leashes. He towered over Radoslaw, and the rest of his soldiers.
- No, - Titus wouldn't trust his life to the humans bent on vengeance and whose brothers were literally dying right now. The Astartes acted compliantly just to get closer, so the mere distance and the number of the humans wouldn't burn him at the spot. Now the captain saw it and the life of his men were in his hands. Soldiers froze alertly, hands on the guns, visors reflected a giant whom they turned into an enemy by themselves. But there was still a chance to avoid the senseless bloodshed.
- As you... - started Radoslaw, rapidly rising his pistol, but the armoured right fist crushed the man's helmet with lighting strike. He tossed the dead soldier aside at the same time swinging the rifle which he held for the muzzle - the gun butt smashed the leftmost soldier. Titus dropped the las-gun, right now his fists are the most appropriate weapon. He slapped the nearest man with the back of his emptied hand, with short straight punch broke the visor of the next, knocking the man out. To his right weapons already were aimed at him, before they pushed the triggers, he darted there crushing three soldiers in one jump, the hull withstood, the humans didn't - the first line of the enemy was smashed. Titus managed grabbed one more from the next row and pulled him over the seat using like a shield from the raining las-fire: humans didn't spare their unfortunate comrade and were wise. If he only had grenades. Titus got to become the one himself. He tossed the scorched corpse to his left and leapt forwards, jumping over the whole row. Heavy landing - one kill, punches to both sides - two more, on his way he knocked off another one, - in a couple moments four enemies were dead. Titus jumped to the left - he must continue his charge, veterans or not, they would know the horror of being charged by an Astartes and loose to him. The man tried to avoid death, but only stood in the way of his comrades, blocking their shooting. Titus was surrounded with enemies, las beans chased him, chipping pieces off his armour. The back, he must protect his back - without oxygen balloons he will die on the surface. Killing those, standing in the same row with him was easy, but humans ran from the Astartes, preferring to die from their comrades' fire, rather than from his hands. He jumped back to the rear side of the hull. There were four before him, Titus chose the nearest two, darting on them. His terrifying scream filled the common vox channel petrifying those, who saw what was going to them. Soldiers didn't dare to shoot. The other two, as he thought, run to their comrades not thinking of facing the giant alone. Titus took a close look at the corpses - it must work. He grabbed both men with one hand and fired his plasma gun. A force caught him off his legs and pulled out through the hole in the celling like a cannon ball. Over ten soldiers were rotating around him - the survived humans left the falling flyer. Titus was in the air, the helmet and armour protected him from the hazards of high altitude, but he had to slow down and use the dead men's grav-chutes properly to survive the landing. A las-bean passed him by - his enemies were experienced drop troops and sky diving was their element: humans made a formation above him, some of them managed to save riffles during unexpected disembarkation. Titus spread his limbs, holding the killed soldiers for hands - the fall slowed down and he flew through the veterans. While they were under him, the Astartes let one body go and hugged the other to his torso - it would save him. The scabbard hanged out at his thigh, he hoped it was strong enough. With the knife in his right, he dived on the nearest soldier - there is no place where humans can hope to get best of him. The man failed to escape and his blade cut him under the knee, Titus raced on aiming to the next. This trooper used his grav-chute to fly away, let him be. Now the Astartes faced the surface, outrunning the soldiers, ignoring their fire. Their riffles will become a danger down there, so he should hit the ground first and get ready. He didn't know how much fuel did their grav-chutes have and could they spare it for the race in the air. They could - three troopers dived on him: one flew by, using his thrusters to correct his mistake, one landed exactly on Titus's back, the last one grabbed him for the legs: his oxygen and the grav-shutes - they knew where to hit. They rotated in the air. He kicked back, but the man hanged on, getting near to the straps which held his dead comrade's equipment. Either he was unarmed or blinded by the revenge and ignored Titus' weak spots: armor joints, which were plenty around the groin. The Astartes pulled his legs as close as he could and cut the arms of the troublesome trooper, who finally let go. This movement has spun him even harder, but the man on his back stayed there - one more die-hard veteran. The bastard even managed to rip off one oxygen balloon. The third trooper came back, crushing into him powered by the thrusters. Carapace hit carapace, one blade glanced off a shoulder pad, the other cut the throat, slicing oxygen cord in the gap between the helmet and cuirass. The man lost his life, but won a moment to his comrade to rip off the last balloon - the trooper jumped off Titus' back spinning him around. The Astartes counted up his enemies - there were eight of them, pursuing him at the distance. Waiting him to suffocate. His helmet automatically sealed off the compromised hose. The left oxygen would be enough for landing, then his supreme biology support him for some time. After that the enemies would bring him oxygen. Titus calmed down his body, sparing the live-giving gas and stretched for the maximum velocity watching how the grey surface of Pheres getting more detailed with every second. The time came to slow down his descent. Titus changed his position in the air and put his hand under the straps on the dead man chest. Others saw that he was still going to fight and opened fire, he ignored it for now. The grav-chute system was a manually controlled: one rune on the cuirass connected to the backpack and two runes on both palms, close to the wrist, so the drop trooper could use it firing his riffle. Activating the button on the breast, Titus squeezed the dead hands and the thrusters flashed pulling the corpse and the Astartes up in a few seconds before hitting the ground. The grav-chute wasn't made for his weight and he landed hard, rolling over grey rocks liked a tossed stone. He stood up breathless, the trooper who saved his live turned into a mess, his breathing equipment was smashed. Titus ran, adjusting to the lighter gravitation of Pheres. Grey rocks of all sizes surrounded him, that was all this planet could offer: tank-size stone at close and towering mountains at the distance. The power sword survived the landing, as well as the plasma-gun, but the enemies were too far to use the blade and their equipment too precious to fire at them. They managed to cut him off the vox and had enough time to discuss their action in the air, now their acted. The humans were like the desperately hungry hunters dared to chase the dangerous predator, but the troopers were hungry for vengeance, blaming him for their own mistakes. And doing so, they were making one more, giving him a chance to survive. They should have left him alone, using their grav-chutes to land as far as possible from him and then run away. Instead, Kacper's men split in three groups per three and two soldiers in the air, getting ready to surround him. The shuttle was falling at some distance, its engine was dead and the craft going down spinning around, but all visors were pointed at him. Titus moved, making the humans to steer their landing at the last moment, somebody fired at him from behind, but he had already chosen his targets: three troopers were too close to the ground for further maneuvers and have landed scattered, one of them hit the ground hard, tumbled over and laid still. Titus leapt on one man who just dropped his equipment and raised his knife - the brave and useless attempt. The third in the group fired at him, as he expected, one in every group had a fire-arm. The man met him with steady arm, Titus got shot in the shoulder only due his inhuman speed. He snatched the riffle out of hands and put the knife in the arm-pit, avoiding the breathing equipment. Titus felt an urge to grab the respirator mask and inhale oxygen, but it must wait. He ran forwards the group of three leaving the last couple behind. The Astartes fired as he moved, but the enemies were not standing still either. He managed to shot one, while the other leapt for the riffle, the third stepped forward. The man raised the knife to his own throat and cut his breathing cord - tough bastard. Titus was firing at the one grabbing the gun and couldn't stop him. Firing the fearless human down he admired his bravery. The last two. One of them has already scorched his armour, while the second stood near, would he also ruin his respirator or already had? Las-beans scorched him - the trooper was a good shooter, not as good as he though.
- Why?! - Tymon brought him back to the vox channel. They two were the last ones using it, - Who are you?!
Titus saw it - the grenade, hidden in the palm of the last veteran, - and shot him in the head. The charge exploded; the Astartes had already put off his helmet, inhaling the oxygen through the dead man's respirator.

The smoke gone but he easily found the crushed plane: Pheres provided many landmarks for orientation. The area was filled with debris, the hole made by his shot was the only damage the flyer got in the air. The earth done the rest: engines and wings fell off and laid scattered around with other lesser parts. The passengers' compartment was empty, everything and everybody was swept away by the pressure. Including his melta-charge and both servo-skulls. Now Luisa's service has ended completely. Titus looked inside the cabin: landing crumpled it; the servitor-pilot turned into pulp; no piece of vox stayed working of course; the cockpit also had no additional oxygen balloons. He collected four breathing sets from the slain troopers. If they were going to search Pheres for real, then he had oxygen for a Terran day, maybe two. It was colder than Olynthum here, but he could probably survive through the night. The road to the wrecking place took around three hours. Local day circle is much longer, so he had enough time before the darkness, the question was, where to go. And did he should go at all? Whatever the reason of the first crush, one of inquisitors sooner or later come to check on the wreckage. On the other hand, if here were some hidden enemies, they should have an air supply or even the spacecraft. Waiting here alone for some time seemed tempting, but not so much having a high chance of suffocating. Rolling with the wind of fate has been his compelled motto for several millennia, and, though the dead air of Pheres was still, it blew here too. Titus pressed to the hull of shuttle looking for the source of roar in the sky. It wasn't a noise of engine, rather a beastlike howl. The memory told him what creatures could be met even on lifeless planets. The ones that could easily knock down a tiny shuttle. The shade covered the wrecks and he jumped inside, before the bright almost pink fire showered the fallen flyer. Unnatural flame danced around, smelling queer. Sebastian was right, there was witchcraft on Pheres, would he survive to tell him so. If the beast felt the bloody psy-conductor in his heck then he wouldn't. Titus stepped back from the fire devouring the hull. One more jet of flame hit the shuttle and the roar thundered again, this time at some distance. The Astartes went through another crack in the hull, avoiding the cursed blaze. The psyker would follow the beast first, not the fallen shuttles. So, getting near it was the best option. Titus trotted after the receding figure in the air.

He watched on the dull grey stone of all shapes and sizes. Not a trace of the beast in the empty sky. Titus climbed the rock, but saw nothing new. The landscape in front of him was exactly the same as the one he left behind. The hope for a near beast's den or some camp of the enemy, the creature could lead to, dashed. He exhaled calmly through the nose for his mouth was occupied with the hose. He has spent a big portion of this balloon and armour's power running here and now he had to go back. Without clue he wouldn't go wonder around the moon, however small it was. Titus froze for a moment but heard nothing and came down. He couldn't inhale - the first balloon got emptied. The Astartes tossed it away; around his torso three others were attached; he pulled one mask, torn it off and took the hose in the mouth, letting oxygen in. Titus hasn't enjoyed the walk for a long time - red flash cut the hose, leaving him with a useless pipe between his teeth and a scorched gorget. He escaped a shot in the face by few centimeters - the mistake of the shooter could be pardoned since he must have shot from the long distance - the Astartes heard and saw nothing. Titus ran to the direction where the shot came from, leaping from cover to cover. He already squeezed another hose in the mouth and closed the balloon with the shorten pipe - he would use it later when stay alone again. The shooter didn't run: las-beans hit the rocks around him and stroke the pauldron once. When Titus could see the enemy, he filled all his three lungs with oxygen and put on the helmet, shutting off the gas. It was obviously an ambush - a single drop trooper was lying on the flat rock firing at him, surrounded with rocky hills. The grav-chute was still attached to his back; he would use it when the Astartes get too close. One of the survivors from the first shuttle, others must hide near, may be even behind the very stone their comrade laid on. Titus fired back, making the shooter think of escape. The man jumped to his feet and used his equipment - the body got tossed up and fell down aside - the dead fingers didn't control the thrusters anymore. Titus was coming to the stone; two troopers jumped out of it, firing their riffles. He killed one, but got his right forearm wounded lightly. He heard the familiar sound, instead of firing back at one who shot him, Titus jumped back. The grenade, rolled to his legs, exploded. He covered his visor with one gauntlet, and the oxygen balloons with the other. When shrapnel glanced off the ceramite, he took the hands off and shot the fleeting trooper in the back of the head. The Astartes stood alone, but these veterans were tough enemies and should have seen his weakness. He ran to the nearest corpse and knelt before it checking the breathing equipment - it was intact, but he hit the corpse in the frustration, actually closing the balloon, and darted to his last kill. Titus ripped the balloon of the corpse and raised it in the winning gesture. Now came the tricky part. He had noticed two perfect spots on the slopes around him - big enough stones to hide a man or two. It both were behind him now and he decided to lure the humans out by offering them to shoot him in the back. Titus sat on one knee and pull off his helmet, leaning his head forward breathing through newly gained respirator and hiding his unprotected skull from the shooters. If there were some troopers, they would use this chance, for the motionless giant was a too tempting target. There was one and he showed himself - a las-bean hit him in the back, but the ceramite back was his hardest side. No time to put the helmet on, Titus jumped aside and fired back. Damned human's gun - he hit the cover, not the enemy. The trooper wanted to die with his comrades though: instead of running he jumped off the slope and used his grav-chutes to land, making the Astartes dodge his shots, while he was in the air. But when the man was on the ground, Titus finally hit him. He came and collected his oxygen too. Adding new trophies to his collection, the Astartes looked into the mountain ahead - what was that flash he saw? Calmly breathing, he walked towards new direction

It used to be a mining facility: down here abandoned machinery laid everywhere, dusted and dried-out but otherwise not deformed by the time; there was a couple low buildings - absolutely empty rockcrete boxes; the entrance in the mine was blocked. Titus looked at the mountain, which he believed was a source of that flash. During his three hours long walk here he saw no more flashes or anything else. He dropped the emptied balloon and started to climb the rock. It had a gentle slope and hadn't require a real effort of him. There was no wind up there too, but enough plateaus and artificial blocked caves - humans did something there generations ago. Titus didn't think about his possible death on Pheres. How would he be the only alive being on the whole planet or how his pierced remnants would be found in another couple millennia, - those thoughts didn't bother him. He was the Astartes and he would fight to the end. When the inevitable end comes - then he will give it a thought and say the galaxy what he thinks about all this. Titus climbed another plateau, watching for the oxygen balloons strapped to him.
- Greetings to you, legionary Titus.