# Redemption



## Dirge Eterna

Now, before my inbox overflows with WTF R A KYTHARIN, I have THIS to tell you everything you ever conceivably wanted to know about my made-up aliens. Thanks all! Oh, and this is going to be LONG. Settle in and share the popcorn, folks. 
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_It is the 47th Millennium. For seventeen thousand years the Emperor has sat immobile on his Golden Throne of Terra. He is the master of mankind and lord of a million times a million worlds. Innumerable battle fleets ply the stars and uncounted quadrillions toil ceaselessly, keeping the Imperium alive. The Emperor is the beacon of light for mankind. And he is dying.

While the Adeptus Astartes and the Imperial Guard vainly try to stem the tide of ideological freedom taking hold in the Imperium, for every one rebellion that is crushed another two succeed. The advent of Mass Relay technology traded from Tau Enclave seperatists allows faster-then-light travel without the brutal dangers of the Warp. On a trillion worlds, Tau, Hrud, Kytharin, Eldar, Kroot, Vespid, and even Orks trade with Human settlers. Species long thought to be little less then brutish heathens prove to have diverse culture. Species long thought to be learned show a darker side. 

To be a man in such times is to be one amongst billions, whose life in total means less then the whole, but it is very early days yet. Forget the promise of endless war, for it is meaningless to all save the slaves to Darkness, who constantly battle for supremacy in the Eye of Terror. Forget the value of hiding secrets and covering up progress, for so much has been learned, never to be forgotten. It is the 47th Millienium and Mankind has learned there is only survival._

A Drifter Colony, she thought.

What the hell.

_New Athens_ was a salvage yard, and it showed. The "colony" was actually a massive square, two kilometers in either direction, engines on one side and massive manipulator arms on the others. A gunmetal "ceiling" stretched off in all directions. People bustled about, trading or buying, or even selling. Ships were tough to come by out in the Fringe, a nickname for the dark edge of the galaxy near the edge of the SDF, or Sol Defense Force, the last remnants of the Old Imperium. SDF cruisers and gunships came by every once in a while, sometimes simply destroying everything they could find before vanishing back into the Warp. Even in an age of faster-then-light travel, the Astartes and Imperial Guard chose to utilize the dangerous, unpredictable Warp Engines for their between-system travel.

Kyra leaned back in a military-style bucket seat bolted to a swivel on the floor. She had her feet up on the next chair and a stein of cheap, watered-down alchohol in one hand. The bartender had taken a look of shock at her for one moment, then simply shrugged. The man was a "New" Imperial. The kind that, while they considered the Emperor humanity's savior, wouldn't pull a gun on anyone who walked in without a copy of the _Princeps Aquilia_ in your hand. And standing seven feet tall, nearly two hundred and fifty pounds, Kytharin weren't your average bar customer. Most of them were still attached to the raider fleets in the void near Kytharin space, but a few, like Kyra, plyed the vasts of space as pirates and mercenaries, and occasionally, as scavengers.

She sighed, taking another sip, and the bartender refilled the glass.

"You got some guts coming out here, scalie." said a voice.

Kyra didn't turn, simply taking another sip of the beer.

"You know what the bounty on your head is, girl?" said the voice.

"Two thousand six hundred and seventeen credits last time I checked." said Kyra slowly.

The voice chuckled. "Really now?"

A single footstep and Kyra set the mug down. A second step and she had spun around, a fat-barreled pistol in her hand. The man stopped, his face hidden in the lunatic shadows the bar's less-then-adequate lighting.

"Little Kyra," said the man. "Always fighting. Always running."

Kyra sensed a twinge in the voice she recognized and set the gun down.

"Lars." she said simply. The man smiled and stepped out of the shadows, revealing a broad, bearded smile beneath two ice-blue eyes and a bandana the man had woven around his long hair.

"Last time I heard about you, you were rotting away in a jail on Espandor." said Kyra. "They let you out on good behavior?"

Lars chuckled and sat down at the bar, moving Kyra's armored talons off the barstool. 

"That's right, scalie. I'm a model citizen now."

Kyra chuckled and toasted the man, taking a great drink and setting the mug down.

"So what brings you out here?" she asked. 

"A little bird on Espandor whispered "Lars, Lars, there's a little scalie out on _Athens_ that's trying to do something stupid again."

Kyra smirked. "And what do you suspect that "something stupid" is, Lars? Listening to you talk?"

The man laughed. The bartender accepted a credit Kyra handed him and refilled both drinks.

"I guess you're here to buy? Ships are expensive, scalie. I could see you getting a lifeboat for your budget, judging by that armor."

Kyra looked at her own armor, it's dented and chipped frame a testiment to the amount of punishment it had recieved. Her helmet, a sinister blue-grey piece of Kytharin Iron, had bare metal scratches on it, like something had clawed it. Something _had_, of course. Belts and webbing crisscrossed her chest and waist, and a massive Impaler pistol hung low on her thigh. The armor was nearly skintight, but had overlapping plates with an odd, greyish-blue color. A tattered cloak was hung from her frame and attached at her shoulderpads. 

"Actually, I already _have_ one."

Lars gaped in a fake display of shock.

"Wow. Doing a bit better in business since we last met?"

"You could say that."

Kyra did own a ship. The sleek, stealthy form of the _Deliverance_ was docked in the Drifter Colony's outer segments. Sal and Zekt had stayed aboard, partially out of not giving a shit, partially as security. Drifter Colonies had a nasty reputation for thieves and pirates.

_Not unlike the kind of thieves and pirates you are_ she reminded herself.

As to the issue of money, six months of fighting SDF soldiers in the Ultima Segmentum had made her wealthy. Not rich, but she'd payed off a group of bounty hunters sent after her to collect the money she had owed on _Deliverance_ and had completely overhauled their equipment. Brand new shiny QI-74 "Impaler" rifles from back home and other interesting bits from the many races that now traded freely (or near-freely) in once-Imperial space.

"Yeah Lars, like you said. I'm a high roller now." said Kyra sarcastically. 

Lars leaned back, toying with a peanut shell on the bar. 

"Listen, kid." he said. Kyra felt the weight of his sudden lack of sarcasm and turned.

"I've got something big." said Lars.

"A contract?" whispered Kyra. Without knowing it both of them were speaking in hushed tones. Mercenaries and pirates didn't share secrets.

"No. Bigger." said Lars. "Can we talk somewhere else?"

The bartender put his hands on his hips, seeming indignant.

"No offense to your lovely establishment." added Lars. Kyra flipped a high denomination credit chip onto the bar and walked off. 

_New Athens_ was a huge place. It took the pair fifteen minutes walking through the streets to return to the vast Docking Arms that held the ships.

_Deliverance_ sat on it's dampers. The ship was less then five hundred feet long, painted a deep grey color with blue details and edging picked out along it's side. Sal leaned out of the hatch and smiled.

"Hey, it's the jerk." he said. The Kytharin dropped out of the ship, vaulting over the guardrails of the boarding ramp and walking to shake hands with Lars.

"Our buddy's got a business proposition, Sal." said Kyra.

"Does he now?" said Sal.

They clambered up the ramp and into the ship, Sal shutting the hatch and sealing it behind them. Kyra led them down the hallway that ran the length of the ship and up a short flight of stairs to the bridge, sitting in the command chair, turning to face the situation table and Lars.

"So, what's so important I couldn't finish a drink over it?" said Kyra. 

Lars knelt down and placed a dataspike into the situation table. A holomap of the galaxy sprang into existence. 

Then it died.

Sal kicked the table, and it flickered weakly. A _bang_ sounded from below the table, and a stifled cursing filtered up. A floor panel was lifted off the frame, and a Kytharin covered from head to claw in oil, soot, and data medium crawled from the guts of the ship, an omni-tool in one claw.

"Did you really have to do that?" asked Zekt. He tapped a series of controls and the map flashed back into life. The Kytharin grumbled and walked off to take a shower.

"Remember if I go nobody's gonna fix this tub." said Zekt.

"Wit, spit, and duct tape." said Kyra at his back. "Fixed it before you, it'll fix it after you."

Zekt gave her the finger as he walked off the bridge. 

Sal made sure he was gone and mouthed _I really had to do that_ at Kyra. She smirked.

"Alright." said Lars. The map zoomed in on the Ultima Segmentum.

"I've got a contact in the ISO, who says the SDF is ready to start a serious push into the Ultima Segmentum and the Segmentum Tempestus."

"They know they're not going to retake the entire Segmentum." said Kyra, confused.

"Ah, but that's it. They aren't here for a land grab, kid. They're going for all their relics that they lost in The Fall."

The Fall was the hushed-up destruction of the Imperium at large. Millions retreated behind the Maginot Sphere, the mass of fortified planets and fleets that surrounded the Segmentum Solar.

"All that stuff they left behind." thought Kyra. Imperial relics were worthless outside the Imperium, unless you got lucky and stumbled on a collector or something. She'd found a bolter marked "_Calgar_" on Calth more then five years ago, and had offered it to her own contact in the SDF, who informed her the Astartes would kill him if he spontaneously came up with the weapon. He never told her why.

"Yeah. And they'll pay some serious green for it." said Lars.

Kyra was suddenly alert.

"That sounds pretty good, actually." she admitted. "I like serious green."

"I thought you might." said Lars. "But there's a catch."

Kyra sighed. "There always is."

"One, the SDF is starting their push in less then a week. Two, I only have fixed locations on two relics, the Shroud of Terra and Commissar Richter's Bolt Pistol. The others I need some time to find. Oh, and I get to come with."

"You get to come with?"

"Yeah, why not," said Lars. "I'm as tough a man as can swing a chainsword."

"Chainswords are barbaric." said Kyra. Sal snorted.

"So are spiker rounds." said Lars, indicating the heavy pistol she carried.

"You're not a Kytharin. How am I going to explain to the cabal I've got a paleskin on board?"

"You'll say it's your very good best friend Lars, who's better looking and has better aim then any of them."

Sal snorted again, burying his face in the crook of his arm.

"They'll tie you to the decks and pull your guts out if I say that, and I'll get relegated to guarding the spire."

Zekt piped up from the living quarters down the hall.

"Or breeding." he yelled.

"In your dreams, maybe." said Kyra.

"You know it." replied Zekt.

"Pig." 

Lars smiled. "So, are you in?"

Kyra rubbed her forehead, thinking. She looked at Sal. The Kytharin gave her a half-smile and nodded.

"Lars, you know me too well. We're in."


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## lawrence96

ooh! intriging! just what other relics might be found? and just what will stand in our intrepid anti-heroes way? why did calgar leave his bolter behind? 

Find out soon on Redemption!

and in case you can't tell, me likey me likey alot!


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## Dirge Eterna

lawrence96 said:


> ooh! intriging! just what other relics might be found? and just what will stand in our intrepid anti-heroes way? why did calgar leave his bolter behind?


1. Not telling, still populating the list, actually.

2. There's the SDF, LaMoE, other pirates, Xenos Raiders, Imperial stranded, indigenous creatures, and of course the Inquisition. 

3. I'll be fleshing out the 47th Millennium soon enough 

Thanks for the feedback!


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## dark angel

great work dirge i have a question though what is LaMoE?


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## Dirge Eterna

You'll see. Hee hee! I love secrets! Oh, and I was eating while I wrote this, and now I feel kind of queasy. A word to the wise.
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Bacilla was a world colonized in the early M41, a death world renowned for a horrific variety of fungus and molds that could eat a full-grown man in a day. Huge mushrooms grew from the earth, while greenish molds dripped from the higher levels. Odd, disk-shaped leaves sprouted from the rocks and even the earth held a loamy, fleshy feel. None the less, it held a remarkable amount of natural resources, and a group of miners were sent to the planet. The settlement of Hell's Edge had catered to their needs, watched over by a company of Imperial Guard and a single Preacher, who held the Shroud of Terra in a suspensor field in the town's chapel.

Kyra turned off the holotable, disgusted.

"Really? A mold planet? _Really?_" she said to no one in particular.

"I know, right?" asked Sal. He too was fully suited up, including respirators and air tanks for the spore-choked air. Apparently Bacilla was home to a particularly foul contagion known as Lung Rot, a spore that took root inside one's lungs and grew out of the chest in a burst of gore and other spores. Kyra didn't want to test the legend.

_Deliverance_ set down in a haze of spores just south of Hell's Edge. Kyra and Sal stepped off the ramp and the autoturrets on the bottom of the ship sprang to life, beginning to track the pair as their movement registered. The ramp closed behind them and they set off.

Sal stepped gingerly around a pit in the ground ringed with teeth. 

"Bacilla snapper." said Kyra. She too gave the maw a wide berth.

The gate of Hell's Edge was covered in phosphorescent molds and mushrooms. Sal slung the Impaler over his shoulder and grabbed the Scorcher from the magnet mount on his armor, twisting the nozzle and unleashing a torrent of liquid fire onto the gates. The molds made an odd squealing noise as they were torched. The gates stood unmarked, besides the odd pit or scratch where the fungus had found a weakness. Kyra set a scrambler against the doors and they parted, opening into an airlock. The pair entered and Kyra hit the green button. The spores and fungus that had already attached to their armor was sucked into the vents and a familiar squeal indicated it too had been incinerated. The inner doors parted and the pair stepped inside Hell's Edge. 

The place was deserted. A total lack of weather gave it the feel of a tomb. Kyra stepped across the gate square, spying the steeple of the chapel across the massive geodesic dome that Hell's Edge was built in. 

Sal and Kyra made it to the chapel in six minutes, and Sal kicked the heavy wooden door in. Across the church, a suspensor field generator sat on the altar, a piece of cloth enclosed inside it. The entire assembly was the size of a large book, about a foot long and eight inches wide, perhaps two thick. The cloth was imprinted with what looked like a face. The entire thing radiated a sense of timeless age. 

Kyra took the device and placed it in the airtight backpack attachment of her armor.

"Kyra." said Sal.

"What?" she asked.

"The candles... look."

Kyra turned, and started.

The candles to the altar's left, the votive lights, were lit. A smoldering lighter sat to the side.

"I think it's time to go." said Kyra. 

Sal nodded and the pair ran for it as an unearthly screech echoed up from the undercroft of the chapel.

They bolted across the town, not looking back even for a second for fear of losing their balance. In their haste, they took a wrong turn at some point, ending up at the southwest corner of the city. A square with a fountain sat in the center, now dry and cracked. A boarded-up house was in the corner of the walls.

"What the frak were those?" asked Sal.

"I don't know, I didn't look." said Kyra. 

Sal began to sit down on the fountain and then sat up swiftly, a look of horror over his features.

A man, or what must have surely once been a man, was laying in the fountain, a pool of tar-like black ooze surrounding him. Fronds and feelers grew from his body apparently at random, and his left arm had been replaced by two long tentacles. Molds and fungus covered his frame and a massive hole in his chest was occupied by a single spike of mold, the number of holes in it telling Kyra it was the vaunted Lung Rot virus.

"Oh, gods." said Sal. He seemed perilously close to vomiting.

"Don't frakking throw up in that suit, idiot." warned Kyra. She steered him away, kicking in the door of the boarded-up house.

A man fired a pistol at her.

She ducked out the door and returned fire, the man giving a surprised yelp as an Impaler bolt stuck in the wood a foot from his head.

"What's.. what's that thing?" asked Sal, pointing at the fountain in horror.

"I don't know, come on. LaMoE's giving us some trouble."

Every Kytharin pirate or mercenary knew LaMoE. Last Man On Earth, they were called. During the chaos and panic of The Fall, many of the survivors had banded together, originally, but as time wore on they could not sustain a population and spread out. The battered, beaten, paranoid children of the original stranded were violent, uncooperative, and mostly psychotic.

Sal retched and handed Kyra a Spike grenade. She tossed it into the house and a piercing scream indicated the man had been hit.

She ran inside and found the man against the wall, two spikes through his chest and pinning him. 

"You... you'll bring them!" whispered the man. Blood flecked the corners of his mouth.

"What the frak are those things?" asked Kyra. Sal followed her in, looking around at the disheveled home.

"The.. the Lung Rot. It doesn't kill you, no. It makes you _living colonies_. I won't be like you! No! I'll die before I'm like you!"

"He thinks we're the rot zombies." said Sal.

"And now you know I'm here! No! Noo!!" yowled the man. Sal snapped his neck with a quick gesture. 

A shriek echoed down the street, followed by a series of roars and the growing patter of dozens of feet. 

"Shit." said Kyra. Sal threw open an emergency airlock in the house's rear and they stepped inside just as the first figure appeared in the door. Kyra tossed a Tetrahydride Peroxide grenade out of the lock just as the door closed and the Infected erupted in flames and squealing, boiling molds. They toppled over in a heap in the door and the airlock closed. Dozens more rolled over the scorched pile of dead and began to beat frantically on the airlock.

The outer airlock opened and the two Kytharin were stunned by the sudden voices in their helmets.

[-gain, ground team respond!]

Kyra keyed the mic. [Ground team in, over.]

[Oh, gods, boss. Thought the things had got you.]

[No, Hell's Edge must be radio-shielded.]

[We're going to pull a fly-by, they're attacking the airlock doors on _Deliverance_. Ready for pickup?]

[Yep. Get us the hell out of here, Zekt.]

A growing roar built in the south, and the ship launched into the air, the bottom of it coated with the molds and fungus that permeated the area. Kyra and Sal's armor was already covered with it, they'd given up trying to fight the ever-pervasive force. Luckily Kytharin Iron was stronger then the flimsy Carapace armor Kyra has seen the Lung Rot penetrate, or else they might already have been infected. 

_Deliverance_ swooped low overhead, the boarding ramp down, and both of them jumped onto the ramp as it closed and the ship lifted away from the surface, the auto-turrets killing a few of the Infected as they sprinted for the ship.

"Oh, gods. That was too close." said Sal as the ramp closed. A field suddenly snapped into being in the airlock and the molds and fungus on their armor was vaporized in a heartbeat, the ashes sucked into the vents on the sides of the lock to be vented into space. The growths on the hull itself peeled back and burned as _Deliverance_ cruised through the atmosphere.

Kyra peeled off the armor, feeling unclean from the planet. She helped Sal out of his, then pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt from the shelves set into the airlock. 

"Shower, food, sleep." she said, prioritizing.

"Shower, then another shower." said Sal.

She nodded to Lars and Zekt at the controls and stepped into her cabin, closing the door of the attached refresher. A hot shower felt good on her skin after the horrors of Bacilla. After fifteen minutes under the soft drizzle of water, Kyra stepped back out and put on a new set of clothes, happy to be off the planet. 

She returned to the airlock and pulled the Shroud from her pack, carrying it to the bridge and setting it on the holotable.

"Woah. So that's the money shot." said Zekt. He flicked the AUTOPILOT function on the control panel and turned the chair around, staring.

Lars stood up from his own seat at the autoturret station. 

"Yep. That's it." he said, running an auspex over the shroud. "Current market value set at twenty-four hundred thousand credits, and that's if we sold it as an Ancient's cloth, and not a holy relic."

"What if we do sell it as a holy relic?"

"Uh, the auspex doesn't count that high, sorry."

Even Zekt looked up at the mention of _that_.

"No, really."

"Well, we won't get a fraction of it's real value, but you better believe it's worth something to the SDF. They'll pay up."

He whistled cheerfully and stowed the Shroud in one of the lockers under the holotable.

"So, anybody a good fence in the art world?" asked Kyra.

"The fine arts are my natural territory." said Zekt.

"You're an uncultured barbarian." said Lars. "But I think an old buddy of mine could help. Got anywhere out of the way we could meet?"

Kyra smiled, sitting her head on a closed fist in an exaggerated thought.

"Well, Zekt, where's out of the way, pleasant, a good place to sell stolen goods, and an equally good place to buy?"

"_Kytha'yaim?_ Zekt responded hopefully.

"How about it, Lars? See the home front?" asked Kyra.

Lars looked uncomfortable. "Aren't they going to _pull my guts out_ as you so richly described?"

Kyra laughed. "No, probably not. Depends on which clan world we go to. Zekt, take us home."


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## Ordo Xeno Commander

Brilliant Dirge, I like it a LOT!


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## Dirge Eterna

Thanks OXC!
-------------------

[Ven'couyt TC, this is mercenary frigate _Deliverance_, request permission to land.]

[_Deliverance_, this is Ven'couyt TC, feel free. Proceed to pad seven.]

The ship flashed by the highest spires in Sai'rag, the planetary capital. The landing pad came up and with a low _bump_ the ship was home for the first time in four years. The landing ramp descended with a hiss and Kyra walked out wearing full armor minus a helmet. The Shroud was safety tucked into her backpack. 

A lighter-colored, elderly Kytharin stood at the edge of the pad, steadying himself on a staff carved from some sort of bone. A cloak of deep red and silver was draped over him, and he carried himself with a weary pride. At the sight of him, Kyra handed her Impaler to Sal and ran down the ramp to embrace him.

"Dad." said Kyra. The Kytharin smiled.

"Kyra. It's been too long since you've been home. Your mother's been worried sick."

"How is mom?" 

"She's fine, _Ky'ika_. What brings you back?"

Kyra looked up at him. "We've got something, dad. Something _nice_."

Her father gave her an odd half look. 

"Well, come with me." he said. Sal, Zekt, and Lars followed as he led them through the streets, past dozens of merchant stalls selling everything from food to scrap metal. Lars was gaping at the city, made of tasteful grey stone and wrought steel mountings. The beauty was skin deep. Sai'rag was a fortified city, and it showed. Steel mountings held rappel hooks. Thin windows were gunslits. Every door had a thick durasteel frame.

Kyra's father led the party through the streets until he stopped in front of a small villa set back from the street. He opened the door, beckoning them inside. 

"Guys," said Kyra. "This is my father, Rek."

Rek gave them a shallow bow. "Sal I already know. But who are you?" he asked Zekt. 

"Zekt." he said. "I'm the ship's engineer on _Deliverance_."

"And you?" asked Rek, looking at Lars.

"Lars Adamson. I'm the map." said Lars.

Kyra pulled up a chair at a large holotable set into the floor of the living room. She put the Shroud's casing on the table, and Rek stopped.

"Is that.." said Rek.

"It is. We had to go to Bacilla to get it."

"The Shroud of Terra, by the gods." said Rek. He reached out and brushed the casing. 

"Do you know a fence?" asked Sal. Rek nodded.

"Of course.. but it's.. it's something I'd never seen before. An Imperial relic. Do you know what this will fetch from the SDF?"

Kyra smiled. "A lot."

"Oh, _Ky'ka!_" shouted a voice. Another older Kytharin bustled in from outside, holding two military-style rucksacks filled to the brim with all manner of goods. 

"_Nov'ika_," said Rek. "_Kyra magna aurum ferret._"

The rucksacks were placed against the doorframe. 

"Well, we always knew she'd end up stumbling onto something."

Kyra smiled and tucked the Shroud back into the pack. 

"Can we go to the fence tomorrow, dad? I'd really like to get going. The SDF's pushing into the Tempestus less then a week from now."

"'Course, _Ky'ika_. But let's eat, relics make me hungry."

An hour later, they all sat down around the holotable, laughing over stories. Sal told them about Bacilla and the crazed man who'd attracted the creatures. Kyra explained the war on Murder and the last Imperial bastion blowing itself up rather then fall to the Tau. 

Finally Rek set his glass down and began his own story.

"Well, this must have been thirty years ago, just before you were born. Your mother and I had met a year before after the Massacre of the Astartes on Aay'han. We had been deployed onto Ceris V, as part of an invasion force to destroy the shipyards and refineries. 

So this place was total jungle, couldn't see ten feet ahead of you. Bugs the size of your fist. So on the first night we set up camp, dug our snake holes in the ground and began to wait till' morning. When the morning came around, we all started stumping off to the nearest town. The warrior in front of me in the line was named E'ru. Beast of a Kytharin, maybe three hundred pounds and seven nine. So he torches this place, uses a full tank of Scorcher fuel, and as he's shifting through the rubble, our warband leader shows up. E'ru explains the situation, and the warlord looks him over, all covered in ash, and says "Always make sure to pillage BEFORE you burn."

The Kytharin roared with laughter. 

Nov cleared her throat and nudged Rek with her elbow. "Men love wars, because it keeps women from laughing at them."

Rek smiled and finished his own drink, getting up and taking a last look at the Shroud. 

"Anything you guys need? Are you staying here?" he asked. 

"Might as well." said Kyra. "Sal?"

Sal shrugged. "I'll go back to _Deliverance_, take Lars with me. I don't think the merchants would take kindly to him, heh."

Rek chuckled. "Probably for the best."

--------------------------

The next day, Rek led Kyra and Zekt to the market district, a maze of colorful stalls and vendors from every corner of Kytharin space. Merchants, servants, and soldiers mingled in the stalls, trading and talking. A woody, smoking smell hung over the food vendors, while machine oils and ozone smells wafted from the fabricators. A female Kytharin wearing only a thin, translucent robe walked past Zekt and Kyra, as if she wasn't semi naked. 

"What do you think?" said Kyra. She held the backpack containing the Shroud in both hands.

"She's very attractive." said Zekt, following the pleasure girl with his eyes. Kyra rapped him on the side of the head with her knuckles.

"Focus, _mir'osik_. About the Shroud?"

"It's going to bring a great deal of money." said Rek. "You should be proud to have acquired it on such a planet as Bacilla."

He opened a metal door in the side of a building and hustled them inside. A thin, almost cadaverous Kytharin sat at a tabaac table, the tabaac orbs randomly placed on the surface as it someone had just been playing. A bac-stick was held in one claw while the other rested on an airtight backpack similar to Kyra's.

"Hello, Rek." said the thin Kytharin. He got up and the two gripped each others' forearms in an extended handshake. Kyra had heard the handshake was first invented when Kytharin invented swords, to keep a stranger or new acquaintance from drawing a weapon.

"Hello, Wes. Kyra, Zekt, this is Wes. He'll be your fence on Ven'couyt."

Wes smiled with a friendly look and pushed the backpack along the table, Rek opening it. The old Kytharin's eyes widened. He nodded to Kyra, who handed the Shroud of Terra across the table to Wes. Wes ran a scanner along the side, and seeming satisfied, replaced the backpack and threw it over his shoulder.

"Pleasure doing business." he said. "Call me up next time you're in town."

Kyra nodded as the Kytharin left through a side entrance with the Shroud. 

"Was it worth it?" asked Kyra to her father. Rek smiled and hefted the backpack.

"Oh, I think it was worth it, _Ky'ika_."

---------------------

Back on _Deliverance_, and preparing to depart, Kyra emptied the bag onto the bridge holotable. 

"Gods." she said. Over a million Imperial ducats and Kytharin credits tumbled out onto the table in a great pile. Rek smiled. 

"See, sweetie?" he said. 

"What's the handler's fee?" asked Kyra.

"_Ky'ika_, I'm disappointed in you. I'm your father, no matter what. Keep your money."

Kyra shook her head and pressed a ten thousand credit chip into her father's hand. "Thanks, dad. For everything."

Rek tried to put the chip back down, but seeing the look on Kyra's face was enough for him to pocket it.

"Alright. Do come back and see me when you've gotten something like that again. It's nice to have my daughter home every once in a while."

Kyra nodded, and accompanied Rek to the boarding ramp. The pair embraced again, hard armor on the soft cloak Rek wore, and he stepped down the ramp, the heavy neosteel plate closing behind him.

"Alright, fellas." said Kyra. She swept the loot into a locker and stashed it under the holotable. Zekt was under a console on the port side of the bridge, fiddling with the autoturret controls. Sal sat at the helm, tapping out a tune on the armrests of the chair. Lars stood up against the navigation helm.

"Where to next?"

Sal and Lars approached the holotable, the image springing to life now that Zekt had worked on the emitter. 

"The Ultima Segmentum." said Lars. "Some relay station called The Lighthouse. The Imperials used it as a fleet beacon until The Fall."

"What's there?" asked Sal. 

"Apparently a man named Commissar Richter was on board during the Fall. Some kind of backlash from the "Astronomican" killed everyone on board."

"A psyker backlash?" asked Kyra.

"It would seem so." said Lars. He tapped a control and an image of the station appeared. Only three decks high and sixty feet long. Two massive docking arms extended out from it's sides. One was clearly blocked by debris. A ring of shrapnel and flotsam orbited the station weakly.

"Nice." said Kyra. "Any word on SDF presence in the area?"

Lars seemed to flinch, then Zekt physically did as the console he was working on sparked and shocked him. He cursed. 

"Well," said Lars. "That's the problem. An Explorator team was sighted two days ago."

"Then we've no time to lose." said Kyra. "Sal, get us the hell out of here."

Sal nodded, and _Deliverance_ shot off the ground, in pursuit of another relic.


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## Ordo Xeno Commander

Awesome work. I have some good news of my own. The 409th ODJJ are officially underway, and Zulu is shaping up to be a very characterful squad, as you will see when I get the models up :mrgreen:


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## Col. Schafer

If you dont mind me asking what does SDF actualy stand for? Or did I miss somthing (more than likely as its. :shok: 12:15) 

Anyway... this is awsome! 47K is verry diferent from 40K. How do I put this... 40K is an awsome stratagy game, but yours would make a much more interesting RPG than dark heresy by lightyears. 

+rep. And another thing... can I borow the setting for my next project? After I finish rebirth of course, so It might be a while.


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## Dirge Eterna

@OXC: Nice! As soon as you can get some pics up, I'd love to see them!

@Col. Schafer: lol. SDF stands for Sol Defense Force, the Segmentum battlefleets and armies of the Segmentum Solar, the last vestige of the Imperium. And yes, feel free to use the setting. Thanks for the feedback!


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## waltzmelancholy_07

You never fail to impress Dirge... Rep!:victory:....


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## Dirge Eterna

Thanks all! To everyone who's glanced at this (116 views), PLEASE take the time to say "Wow, this is good", or "Wow, this sucks".
--------------------------------------------------------------------

The Lighthouse proved even more dark and dilapidated then the holotable had shown. Loose plates and rivits formed a debris ring around the station. Lights glowed dimly inside.

"Looks homey." said Zekt. 

"Quiet that up. Radio silence until we know what we're dealing with." admonished Sal.

Kyra settled _Deliverance_ on the underside of the station, noticing with some concern a flickering SDF drive signal. She dismissed it as a sensor malfunction as the signal winked off and on.

The three of them began to cut through the hull of the station, while Lars walked around the ship with an autogun to guard the frigate while they searched the station.

The floor panel made a soft whine as Sal lifted it free and set it on the floor. The Lighthouse was pitch black inside. Sal swallowed and flicked on his shoulder lamp. Kyra and Zekt followed him up the hole. 

"Any idea where to look?" asked Zekt. His weapon of choice was the Lasher, a shotgun known for the scything rain of fletchettes it fired. 

"The bridge?" suggested Sal. Kyra nodded and walked down the thin corridor, looking. They found a service staircase and walked up to the next deck, which turned out to be dimly lit by a few flickering glowglobes. 

"Bridge is twenty meters ahead if the auspex is right." said Zekt. 

Kyra nodded silently, holding up a closed fist. Someone was talking up ahead.

"-finally, will be returned to it's rightful place."

Sal crept up to the corner, peering around it. He stepped back quickly. 

"SDF." he whispered. "They've got it."

"How many?" asked Kyra.

"Seven." said Sal. 

"Aw, come on. We can take'em." snarled Zekt. 

Kyra licked her lips, and nodded. Zekt jumped from cover and rained fletchettes into the room, slicing the man holding a golden bolt pistol on a velvet cloth in half. Two others fell, dozens of cuts opening on their chests and faces. Sal and Kyra leaned out and fired Impalers into the still confused SDF stormtroopers. A spike caught one of them between the eyes. The last two troopers ducked and returned fire. Zekt stood up again to fire and caught a lasbolt across his shoulder, slicing the Kytharin Iron. He grunted over the battlenet and fell to one knee. Kyra stood up and shot his attacker. The last guardsman, showing more bravery then sense, rushed Sal, screaming. The Kytharin sidestepped and shot him in the back.

"Corporal?" roared a voice. It had a metallic ring Kyra knew too well, and feared.

A Space Marine, twice as tall as Zekt and holding a vast weapon in one hand, stomped into the room. 

"Xenos." it growled. "Purge the unclean."

The weapon came up, chattering death across the bridge. Consoles were blown out and holes gouged in the walls. Sal ducked as a bolt blew the top three inches from the console he was sheltered behind.

"Shit." he swore. Kyra scrabbled for cover. The marine took one vast step forward and kicked Zekt across the room, crushing the pic screen he landed on. 

Sal leapt onto his back, firing an Impaler pistol at point-blank range into the marine's back. A lucky shot broke the backpack's armoring and severed the power cables. The Space Marine's movement slowed noticeably as he felt the full weight of his wargear. 

The marine spun wildly, throwing Sal off into a stack of ammo crates. 

"Only in death does duty end." it barked. The bolter came up, and Sal rolled as the crates disintegrated under the hail of fire.

Zekt had slowly climbed to his knees, and placed the Lasher's barrel against the Marine's rear kneeguard. He fired, blowing the man's leg into bloody rags and flecks of bone. The marine roared in more rage then pain and picked Zekt up, dashing him off the floor.

Kyra swept in underneath his guard, kicking with all her weight against his good leg. The marine toppled and suddenly all three of them were on top of him, yelling and stabbing, firing weapons. The marine made an odd growling noise and rose from the ground in a berserk fury, tossing them off. It grabbed a plasma pistol from one of the dead Guard and fired a shot into Sal, taking off his arm at the elbow. Sal toppled backwards, grabbing at the limb. Kyra dove, and Zekt kicked the Marine's weapon at her. She came up holding the vast bolter in both hands.

"Die, frakker." she said simply, and pulled the trigger.

The gun clicked.

The marine took a step forward, raising the pistol. A series of warning runes flashed on the bolter's casing. Kyra threw the weapon at him and dove.

The marine caught the thrown weapon out of habit, and in a split second the roar of every bolter round in the clip exploding drowned out everything else. A noise like an armful of buckets falling made Kyra rise from cover to see the lower two-thirds of the Space Marine laying on the ground in a pool of rapidly congealing blood. She picked the velvet-encased bolt pistol from the Guard officer and helped Zekt up. 

Sal was against the wall leading to the stair, gasping for air. Kyra took two single-use auto injectors from her tactical vest and stabbed them into the ports on Sal's armor. His breathing evened. She picked him up as they made their way back to the ship.

Lars was waiting for them as Zekt jumped down into the airlock, Kyra handing Sal down to him before climbing down herself and sealing the hatch.

"I tried calling." said Lars. "A troopship fell out of the warp almost as soon as you got inside."

"Wouldn't have made much difference." admitted Kyra. 

She set Sal in one of the ship's cryotubes, and patted Zekt on the shoulder as she passed, the Kytharin tending his wounded leg. 

"Well, we've got to go back home now." she said. The NAV screen flashed green.

"Course plotted for Ven'couyt relay." Kyra said to herself. Lars sat down in the turret control chair.

The engines stopped with a screech. Kyra cursed and banged with a closed fist on the Mass Relay panel. The lights flickered off and on, and the engines screamed to full warp burn. She smiled and sat down.

"Home again." she said, and _Deliverance_ flashed to full speed.


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## Ordo Xeno Commander

Awesome. Take that marine down!!!! Frickin awesome.


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## Sniper

Great story Dirge :victory: hmm I really must post in this section more again, ah well, looking good so far, 409 was pretty well written as usual to.:grin:

Sniper


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## Dirge Eterna

Thanks all. I've noticed an annoying trend lately. My 360 sounds like a small aircraft taking off, while my PS3 is whisper quiet... I think Moneysoft needs to upgrade their fan system 
-----------------------------------------------------------


Kyra leaned over the map table, poring over the holos. 

"What's next?" she asked no one in particular. The ship's AI, a new improvement that had come about with the bolt pistol's money, chipped in.

"Three relics remain that are known." it said. A readout printed into the air on the holotable's surface.

Gauntlets of Ultramar- Used by the Ultramarines' chapter master until The Fall, last known location is Macragge.

St. Alessia's Tears- Crystals blessed by the High Lord of the Ecclesiarchy during the 13th Black Crusade, last known location is Arabica. 

Tome of Maxentius- Holy codex thought to contain much of the Imperials' knowledge of psychic abilities. Last known location is Magog, last speculated location is Hawke's Island, Cadia. 

Kyra sighed. None of the quests were going to be easy. Sal walked onto the bridge, his new augmetic arm clicking and whirring as it ran through the final series of diagnostics. The Kytharin healer that had tended him had provided one of the best augmetics on Ven'couyt, a slim, versatile device that almost perfectly mimicked a Kytharin arm. He refused the synth-flesh covering, however, and wore the silvery replacement as something akin to a badge of honor.

He too leaned over the table, scratching his chin and almost getting the distance right. 

"So, what do you think?" asked Kyra. Sal swallowed.

"As the gods will." he said. Kyra had met a few Kytharin who fully believed that statement. Coming from Sal it was the verbal equivalent of a shrug.

"Well, we've got Cadia, Macragge, or Arabica to choose from." she said. Sal flinched.

"Aren't the Space Marines still active on Macragge?" he asked.

"Technically, yes. But it's only a few caretakers and some menials. Hive Fleet Mjolnir left very little to mark their passage compared to the other fleets, but Macragge's going to be desolate compared to the other two."

"What the frak is Arabica?"

Kyra pulled up a map of the planet.

"Desert world, population around seven million, clustered around the main cities."

Sal thought about it for a moment.

"How hot?" he asked.

"It gets to about three hundred and fifty Celsius during the day. At night maybe ten below."

"So we're going to need full suits for the daytime?"

Kyra nodded. "Yeah, unless you want more augmetics to add to your collection. Says it'll roast flesh in a few minutes."

Zekt walked onto the bridge as well, crunching on a bag of crushed nuts and dried fruits.

"Where to next, boss?" he asked lightly. He stepped around the map table and settled into the pilot's chair.

"We're thinking... what are we thinking?" asked Kyra.

Sal shrugged. "Cadia's nice this time of year."

A map of Hawke's Island popped up on screen. The city of Kasr Pallen loomed on one side of the island, while the other was covered in dense jungle and marshlands. In the center of the jungle a temple was built. Even at the resolution Kyra could make out the individual rows of crops around the temple.

"All the little people look like ants." said Zekt happily, spraying crumbs like meteors down on the projection. Sal swept them away.

"What are you smoking?" he asked.

"I'm high on life." said Zekt. "Got money, youth."

He swept an arm around, indicating everything.

"Gonna have wine, women. Palaces. Gold. Gold Palaces. Carpets _this thick_." 

He held up two fingers about four inches apart as a reference.

"High on life? Is _that_ what the kids are calling it now?" remarked Kyra, amused.

Zekt rolled his eyes and swung back around, still eating.

"So, Cadia?" he asked.

Sal shrugged. "I guess."

Kyra looked around. "Where's Lars?"

Zekt turned his head. "He's staying with Rek, they're going to get some business done with Wes before we get another treasure."

_Deliverance_ jumped out of the system.

Ten hours later, as Kyra was rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, the ship lurched back into reality, and Zekt swung it around to avoid a vast chunk of a once-battleship. Dozens of hulks formed a loose belt around the planet, remains of the many incursions from the Eye of Terror.

[Cadian TC to unidentified infiltrator, squawk ident and proceed to Port Kiev orbital.]

Zekt clacked his teeth, thinking. He flipped a switch on the console. The dampers and heat exchangers on _Deliverance_ flipped on, hiding the ship from modar and long-range pings. The dark grey coloring would shield them from visual range. He patched into the comm-net.

[Port Kiev orbital, UI's gone dark, sir. I think it's gone.]

[It was a Mass Relay signature?]

[Yessir. Definitely not a warp engine.]

[Then it's not SDF. Keep a sharp eye.]

[Yes, Admiral.]

A small burst of blue fire signaled their entrance of the atmosphere. Zekt keyed the intership comms.

"Guys, gonna hit the LZ in about twelve minutes. Suit up. I'll hold the ship just outside the killbox under the water."

Kyra commed back. "Gotcha. Wish us luck."

_Deliverance_ attracted little attention, cruising across the sky above Hawke's Island. Two small dots detached from the ship as it flew overhead and floated down on vibrating air currents, the grav-chutes distorting the air.

Two pairs of armored talons smacked into the marshy land a half-mile from the temple. Sal made a disgusted face and picked up one of his feet, wiping the sludge off with his gauntlet.

"Really? A mold planet, and _then_ a frakking swamp?"

Kyra smiled and nudged him forward. "Come on, prima donna. Temple's less then a klick north."

The began to make their way through the swampy ground, working around thick mangrove trees and hanging vines. Kyra turned to talk to Sal and bumped into something underwater, tripping. She cursed and picked herself up, thankful for the sealed armor. Sal reached around and looked at her.

"Marine." he said. He fished around and pulled up a corroded shoulderpad of Mark VI power armor. The plate was covered in greenish mud and algae, but she could still make out the U of the Ultramarines on the rusting metal. Sal tossed the plate back into the swamp and they moved on, twice more finding bodies sunk under the water.

They passed a horribly corroded Leman Russ tank, little more then a turret and body sunk to it's sponsons in the mud. 

"All this stuff must have been left over from the Black Crusades." said Sal as they passed under a body hung from the trees. A parachute anchored it to a mangrove tree high above them, swaying gently.

"Place must be spooky at night." said Kyra. 

The temple rose from a mercifully dry patch in the swamp a half-mile in either direction, with long rows of vegetables and fruits growing in the humid environment. A monk in brown thatch robes looked over and dropped his rake, walking to the edge of the dry patch. Both Kytharin looked at him with something like surprise. 

"Hello, travelers." said the monk.

"_Sal'ika, Imperialis divinus est inquit to ego?_" said Kyra quickly, switching to their native tongue. _Sal, is that Imperial priest talking to me?_

"_Ego anima tu._" he responded. _I think so._

The monk was unconcerned by the chatter. "You must be tired. Come, the cooks are preparing food."

He helped them both up the mud brick wall that kept the muddy waters from flooding the grounds and led them both across the fields to the wooden door of the monastery. The building was a three-story pile of masonry, with a low wooden roof and stained glass glaring out at them. More monks ran to and fro, tending the gardens or rushing scrolls between the buildings. Very few looked up, despite the striking light grey armor both of the Kytharin wore.

The monk led them to a heavy wooden table set against a wall, while across the room enticing aromas left little to guess. A platter of roast grox and bread rolls were set in front of the pair. 

"Please, eat." said the monk. He rubbed his hands together. Sal and Kyra looked at each other, and Sal took his helmet off. He ran a practiced eye over the foods, checking for poison, and took a small bite of the grox. 

"_Ita bonus_" he said to Kyra. _It's good._

She too removed her helmet and the pair ate their way through the food, grateful.

"So, who are you, travelers?" asked the monk once they were done.

"We're not really travelers." said Sal. 

"Oh, really?" said the monk. "Are you pirates? We get a few of them now and again." 

Kyra smiled. "That might be an accurate description, actually."

The little man seemed pleased. "Well, as long as you treat this place and the brotherhood with respect, you'll receive it in return. Will you spend the night?"

Kyra looked at Sal. "When's Zekt going to be back?"

"Twenty hours, the planet's rotation is off a bit."

She licked her lips. "I don't know."

The monk picked them up by the arms, no mean feat for two armored Kytharin.

"Please, I insist." he said.

Kyra shrugged, and allowed the monk to lead them to a room set into the wall of the monastery. Two stout beds, made large, and a simple desk adorned the room. A dozen statues sat on the windowsill, every god from the Emperor to Gork and Mork, to even the Kytharins' Serpent Gods were represented. 

Sal tested the door.

"He locked it." he said.

Kyra put more weight on it, then jumped back, and threw herself at it.

The door refused to budge.

"Shit." she said. "Do you have a Slasher?"

The Slasher AP mine was a brutal device, but one almost guaranteed to break open a stubborn door.

"No. I didn't think I'd be laying mines on a search-and-retrieve."

Kyra lay down on one of the beds, in near full armor. 

"Well, I don't see him as the betraying type." she said.

"You're an appalling judge of character." said Sal.

"I mean, I bet you ten creds he'll just let us out in the morning." said Kyra.

"Ten creds, or my life, I wonder." growled Sal. 

"Stop pacing like a caged animal and get some sleep. I'll keep watch first to make sure he doesn't come in here and slit your throat or something."

Sal grumbled, but relented, taking off his helmet and carefully placing it next to him before falling asleep with a sigh.

Kyra blinked slowly. The time in her HUD slowly ticked past. 

At 2245 exactly, a man slid into the room, closing the door. He walked over to Sal's inert body. Kyra crept up behind him, silent. She drew the combat knife from her boot with a quiet _hiss_. 

The man froze and turned suddenly. Kyra grabbed him and held the knife to his throat. Sal sat up with a jolt.

"I mean you no harm!" squeaked the man. He was even shorter then their guide, wearing the same thatched robes and rope belt. A small icon of the Emperor was looped around his neck. Kyra wondered why the man looked first at her chest, then the blank visor of her helmet.

"Then what do you mean?" growled Kyra. The knife didn't waver.

"I have heard about your race." said the man, recovering some of his composure despite the razor sharp _Kuriam_ blade held an inch from his jugular. "I wanted to see if some of the legends were true."

Kyra rolled her eyes under the visor of her helmet and tossed the knife away with a contemptuous flick of her wrist, embedding the weapon three inches into the wooden door.

"Is it true you can change colors?" asked the monk eagerly.

"No." said Kyra, already annoyed. She pulled one of the light grey gauntlets from her armor, exposing the green-grey scales. Kytharin did change colors as they aged, it was true, but they could not change on command.

The man smiled broadly and flipped open a notebook.

"I'm very excited. It's been a very long time since a Kytharin was here, much less two! Is it true you lay eggs?"

Sal burst out laughing over the net, his voice inaudible to the monk over the sealed vox-net. Kyra snorted before answering.

"No, sorry." 

The man nodded happily and made a note.

"Why do some of you have tails but others don't?" he asked. He moved his thick glasses a bit farther up his nose, and Kyra was amused as his eyes were suddenly magnified by the lenses. Sal yawned, and answered.

"Some warrior orders don't allow them, and the Kytharin in them have to readjust their balance. Most of them are very young, because older Kytharin usually can't run or jump without the extra balance."

Kyra leaned back against the wall. "The real question is, why _don't_ you have tails?"

The little man cocked his head. "What?"

"I'm just saying, don't you trip a lot?"

"No.."

He recovered quickly from the question, and pointed at Kyra's chest plate, slightly bulkier then Sal's.

"You're female?" asked the monk.

"I think so." said Kyra. She took off her helmet and pulled the flexible collar of her armor away from her, looking down her undersuit for a moment.

"Yep." she said. The monk didn't register the sarcastic ring of her first answer. 

"Both male and female fighters." he said to himself. 

"I hate to interrupt this no doubt _fascinating_ conversation." said a voice Kyra recognized as their guide from earlier. "But it's likely our guests need some rest. Come, Brother Denalis."

The short monk had a look of crushed curiosity on his face as their guide led him away, closing the door again. As soon as the latch clicked both Sal and Kyra burst out laughing.

"Do you lay eggs?" Kyra chuckled, mimicking the monk's awestruck tone.

Sal smiled. "So, when are we going to ditch these guys?"

The question brought Kyra back to the present in a hurry. She replaced her helmet and set her talons up on the desk, laying against the wall on her bed.

"An hour or two. You take watch, I'm going to sleep for a second." she said.

Sal shook her awake an hour later. A murmur of voices was growing to a cacophony outside.

"I'm sorry, but you simply cannot walk in and demand one of our relics!"

"You will let me pass, by the order of the Emperor's Inquisition!"

"I am _terribly_ sorry, friend, but I am unable to. The Tome of Maxentius is our most revered artifact from the Old Imperium."

"I swear on pain of death that I will raze this place to the ground before I allow one of those scaly bastards to get their claws on another relic!"

"I'm sorry, sir. Use of that type of language in the Emperor's presence is forbidden. You're going to have to leave, now."

A gunshot rang out.

Kyra checked the door. It clicked open. The short monk had forgotten to lock it, then.

She grabbed the Impaler she'd brought with her, and crept along the hall, Sal behind her. A man in dark red robes and black armor stood in the great hall, the short monk laying in a pool of blood in front of him, the notepad still clutched in his hand.

Kyra didn't think. She stepped from cover, and raised the Impaler in one hand. A single six-inch long spike flew from the weapon, covering the distance in less then a quarter of a second. The man's chest exploded and he toppled. Kyra rolled him over, and Sal stepped up, holding a Lasher. 

"The... the High Lords... promised." sputtered the man.

"Promise this." said Sal. He cocked the Lasher.

"You're.. heh. You're all going... to die." said the man, a streak of blood dripping from his mouth. Sal fired the Lasher point-blank, blowing the man's upper torso and head into spinning fragments. 

Kyra walked up the hall, and took the Tome of Maxentius from it's resting place at the Temple's altar. Their guide walked into the room and took in the scene with one look. He looked from the short monk's body, to the Inquisitor's destroyed corpse, to Sal, to Kyra, and then to the Tome. He walked briskly up to Kyra and placed a hand on the book, whispering a quick prayer. 

"Take it, if you must, travelers. You've saved us a world of hurt."

Kyra gave the man a shallow bow, which he responded. 

The pair of Kytharin walked into the field as _Deliverance_ cruised overhead again, and climbed up the ramp. A smoldering Aquila shuttle sat at the edge of the field, no doubt destroyed by the ship as it passed.

Zekt looked at them as they walked onto the bridge with the book.

"Nice catch." he said.

"I only fired once." said Kyra. 

"Really?" asked the pilot, astounded.

"Just, treat them nice, y'know?" she said.

Sal smiled. "I think you're in danger of becoming a good person, _Ky'ika_."

Kyra punched him playfully on the shoulder as _Deliverance_ screamed through the atmosphere.

"I think _you_ just wanted to spend a night with me." she said. Sal shrugged.

"Well, beggers can't be choosers."

"Don't frak with me. You want some of this."

She turned with a flourish and left the bridge as the Mass Relay drives engaged.


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander

haha loving the ending yet again. You incorporate all aspects into your writign very well, both the battles and the menial tasks and pointless chatter that happens. Brilliant Dirge, simply brilliant.


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## Dirge Eterna

Thanks. I find a lot of stories are battle. battle. battle. I like to have some pointless chatter and cracks in there, makes it seem more real then a series of wars. Oh, and did you like the Space Marine fight? It was my first "true to fluff" Space Marine, and I think he turned out rather well.
--------------------------------------------

[_Deliverance_, cease all actions and prepare to be boarded.] said the comms.

"That's what you get, coming to Aay'han." said Kyra. Zekt shrugged and shut off the drives. A ship slightly larger then theirs drifted closer, _Fire of Damnation_ visible on it's flanks. The boarding hatch closed with a _clang_ and a hiss indicated the airlocks were opening. Kyra was leaning against one of the hallway walls leading to the airlock in full armor, an Impaler pistol conspicuous on her thigh.

A massive Stormserpent stomped into the ship, clad in the heavy red armor Aay'han's formal soldiery preferred. 

"You're pirates." he said simply, looking over Kyra's customized armor.

"That we are." she replied. 

"And you're a female." said the soldier, deadpan.

"I think I am." replied Kyra.

"I did not know I was addressing a _breeder_. Where is your captain?"

"You're looking at her."

The soldier flinched and then stepped to the side. A Kytharin in formal robes and carrying a staff of gold-inlaid bone stepped into the ship.

"I am Chancellor Kelorum." said the Kytharin.

"I'm supposed to be impressed." retorted Kyra. 

"You will hold your tongue, breeder-" began the stormtrooper. Kelorum held up a hand to stop him.

"Don't mind Krald, he's a good soldier. Aay'han values it's males more then females as warriors."

Kyra rolled her eyes, thankful for the blank visor of her helmet.

"I'd love to go to the practice cages just to challenge that belief, but what do you want, _Chancellor_?"

Kelorum leaned on the staff, seeming to gain some confidence. 

"We are here to search this ship. Pirates are not allowed in Aay'han's airspace, as you should have known."

"Feel free." said Kyra. She led Kelorum through _Deliverance_, from the thrumming drive coils in it's stern, through the mess room and cryo deck, across the slim walkways in the small armory and ramp area, in the crew's quarters, through Zekt's collections of pic-captures and Sal's range of weaponry, and to the bridge.

Kelorum wiped a finger across the holotable, coming up with crumbs from Zekt's meal. 

"What are you here for?" he asked. Kyra shrugged. 

"Recharge the drives for a bit. We came all the way from Cadia."

"Getting what?"

"Not getting anything." lied Kyra, one hand moving to the pistol at her waist.

"Then why?"

"Doing some high-altitude recces for the Te'kiel shipyards. Good money. Maybe you should try it."

Kelorum didn't look convinced. He swept down the three steps leading to the main corridor and swung open the door to Kyra's quarters, looking around as if hoping to find a mound of trafficked weapons or illicit narcotics somewhere. He looked under the military-style bunk and smiled, pulling out a plain metal case.

"Now, what's in here?" he said.

"I wouldn't open that." said Kyra.

"Really now? Well, then that means something." said Kelorum. He broke the seal and opened the case, staring into it for a moment. His eyes didn't waver, but his fingers twitched.

"I suppose you were right." he said. He closed the case without another word and replaced it under the bunk. 

Kyra shut the airlock door as the soldier and the Chancellor left. Sal looked around the corner.

"What was in the box?" he asked. Kyra sighed.

"If you ever need to know, you'll know." she said.

"Aw, keeping secrets? You know Zekt's going to be asking every chance he gets now."

"Make something up. Say drugs or knives or somebody's severed head or something. _Personal_ devices. I don't care."

"Is it any of those?"

"Yep. Gotta keep that severed head around." said Kyra sarcastically.

"Always knew you were an uncultured savage." said Sal.

---------------------------

Arabica was a dry place.

Over ninety-seven percent of the planet was bone-dry desert and bluffs, the remaining three percent was paved.

_Deliverance_ sat on her dampers, looking hazy and melted with the heat.

Kyra and Sal dropped from the ramp in full environment suits, armor with respirators, air tanks, and toughened fabric seals along the joints. The same suits they'd used on Bacilla. Kyra shivered a little as she remembered the Infected.

"Alright." said Zekt over the helmet mics. "Nearest settlement's about two klicks over the desert, east-south-east. That's where our navi says the Tears were."

Sal grumbled something about the dust and heat. Zekt chuckled.

"Quit your whining. Your arm's _metal_, you cheating _mir'osik_. One less part of you to get turned to ash." 

Sal looked at the limb.

The pair set off over the dunes, rapidly beginning to hate the way their talons sank into the soft sand, and the way the wind always seem to blow towards you, even if you were sure you'd turned away from it.

Kyra wiped the sand from her visor and suddenly the town rose from the dunes. Metal shacks and heatproof cloth tarpaulins kept everything in the shade, lowering the blistering three hundred degrees celsius to only seventy.

"Greetings, my friends!" said a fat merchant. He wore a thick turban and spoke with an odd tilt in his voice. "You are doubtlessly merchants, judging by your dress. No one goes out into the wastes without reason, eh? Well, today is your lucky day! For Abusaal can get you fantastic deal on new ship. KDY Interceptor, very fast. I will throw in arms, too. Special price for new customer!"

Kyra turned. "We're here to see the sights, actually. What's interesting on Arabica?"

"Ah, well, there is most famous Shrine of St. Alessia in the Cathedral, the Emperor's Way down the center of town, but if you're looking for real fun, try Asaad's. Right down the street, you see?"

He pointed to a single-story stack of sheet metal and heatproofing with a sign hung over the door. It read "Drinks, Women, Music."

"Leaves little to the imagination." said Sal. "The Knights would be on them like rust on metal."

The Priesthood of Silence was one of the dominant warrior orders on Ven'couyt, requiring absolute chastity, respect, and commitment from it's members. The militant order of the Priesthood was the Knights of Silence.

"Probably right. But this isn't Ven'couyt." said Kyra. The merchant's eyes glinted.

"Ah, you are trying to pull fast one over Abusaal. You are Kytharin, no?"

"And the winner is..." said Sal.

"We're looking for the Tears of St. Alessia." said Kyra. "You said something about a Cathedral?"

"Ah, yes. Cathedral is mile north of here, along edge of city. The Fathers probably will not let you in, though."

Sal thanked the fat merchant and the two walked down the street, the joints of their armor clicking and whirring as they moved. Merchants and shoppers cleared out of their way as the two armored Kytharin stomped through the markets.

The Cathedral turned out to be the largest building in the city, made of sand bricks and almost seven stories high at the tip of it's steeple. Stained glass and golden edging marked it as a higher class of building then the mud brick of the merchants' quarter.

Sal pressed the door open and the pair walked into the cool interior of the church. A throbbing cryo-unit at the center of the roof gave off a misty chill. 

"You're not Imperials." said the pastor. He wore dark red robes with a large Aquila device on a necklace. Rosaries and purity seals hung from his belt, and a chainsword was scabbarded on his side. 

"You're not Kytharin." said Kyra. 

"You cannot desecrate the Emperor's ground, Xenos." said the priest. "No matter how far this planet falls, St. Alessia's Cathedral will remain Imperial soil as long as a single Faithful remains."

Sal picked the man up and slammed him against a wall before he could draw the chainsword.

"The Tears." he said. "Where are they?" 

The priest puffed up a little with pride. "The Inquisition was here two days ago. I happily handed them over to the Imperials. They are far closer to the Emperor's sight then I."

Sal growled and tossed the priest, smashing one of the pews as he crashed into it.

"The Inquisition." said Kyra. "Two days ago, we were on Cadia. Clever bastards." 

"They're learning." added Sal.

The two left the church, leaving the priest to cackle over his petty victory.

"What now?" asked Sal.

"Well, I guess we're stuffed. Want to try Macragge?"

Sal shrugged, the motion exaggerated by his heavy armor. "Sure, but what if they got there first too?"

"The we sit on our laurels, and you buy the drinks."

"Alright."

They reached the edge of town when it happened.

Abusaal crept up to the gate's corner, shutting it with a screeching _clang_. Eight or nine men wearing menacing facemasks and scarves surrounded them, wielding curved blades and autorifles. One had a fat-barreled RPG-23 slung over his shoulder.

"Yes, yes. You try to pull fast on on Abusaal, Abusaal pulls fast one on you! Aliens highly sought after on Arabica, make great slaves, you see?"

"Well, can't argue with that." said Sal with more then a hint of sarcasm.

The men moved towards them, a length of chain and heavy binder wires in their hands.

Sal kicked out, smashing a man's ribcage with his armored talons. Kyra dropped lower and broke a knee with a quick punch. Both men went down, screaming. The remainder ran at them. Gun butts, blades, and fists thudded against their armor.

The world slowed down as the armor's systems pumped chemicals into their bodies. Kyra jumped to the side, kicking a man's leg out from under him and stepping hard on his neck. Sal swept a fist around, shattering a skull. Abusaal began to back up. 

The last five men jumped at them, holding weighted truncheons. Sal went down, four of the men beating his armor with the clubs. Kyra crushed the skull of the fifth, and picked up one of Sal's assailants, using him to batter the others senseless. Sal got up, and the pair held Abusaal against the gate.

"I meant nothing personal." said Abusaal, pleading. "Just good business, you see?"

Sal keyed the gate open, and walked out into the blistering Arabica daylight, dragging Abusaal. Within a minute the merchant was screaming and clawing his face as the heat torched his flesh. Kyra followed. 

By the time they got to _Deliverance_'s ramp, Abusaal was nothing but a torched skeleton, his singed robes clinging to the body. Kyra went through the pockets and stuffed a few credits into her backpack. They climbed aboard the ship, and the ramp closed, leaving the merchant's body outside.

"It'll give the local enforcers a _fascinating_ project." explained Sal. He lifted his helmet off gingerly, setting it on a shelf. The metal hissed as the helmet burned it.

A field snapped into place, diverting the heat and atomizing the sand, dust, and blood clinging to their armor. Kyra pulled the suit off, exchanging it for her lighter flight armor, the kind they'd used on Cadia and Ven'couyt. She sighed in rapture, grateful for the cool recycled air of the ship.

"So, what now?" said Zekt. He appeared in the doorway, splattered with oil and data medium again.

"Well, the only thing to do is go to Macragge." said Kyra. "Hope it's not looted too."

"Sounds good to me." said Zekt. He walked up the stairs to the bridge, Kyra following, suddenly struck by the makeshift nature of _Deliverance_. In contrast to some Kytharin ships, which were like flying temples, all white stone and gold edging, her own ship was metallic and functional, more a weapon that happened to be crewed then a ship that happened to be armed. Nothing was covered in metal, wires and cables were held to the walls by metal tabs. The stairs were plain gunmetal with diamond tread patterns. A panel of the floor was taken off where Zekt had accessed the guts of the vessel.

"So, home again, or are we going to take that side-trip?" he said, sitting down in the pilot's chair.

"We can't waste any more time. Macragge." said Kyra.

"And to the bluies' homeworld we go." said Zekt. He stabbed at the Mass Relay drive controls.


----------



## Dirge Eterna

Doing this while waiting for Fallout 3: Broken Steel, to download. OMGAWD it takes forever!
-------------------------------------------------------

Macragge was originally the anchor of the Ultima Segmentum, the farthest reaches of the Old Imperium. Heroes to a man, the inhabitants of the planet had fought Hive Fleet Behemoth, numerous Ork and Eldar raids, and taken on the entirety of Hive Fleet Mjolnir on their own once the Astronomican was crippled during The Fall. This second Hive Fleet had annihilated the Space Marines and their armies, paving the way for the Tau Empire to move into the area after the Tyranids were destroyed by an equally large Black Crusader Fleet around Pavonis.

_Deliverance_ slowed to engagement speed, coming side-on to a Manta-class Missile Destroyer in high orbit over Macragge.

[Kytharin.] said the Tau comm officer, deadpan.

[That's us.] replied Zekt. [Kytharin armed frigate _Deliverance_ requesting permission to set down on the planet.]

[You do not embrace the Greater Good, renegade. You will not land on this planet.]

[I really don't want to have to fight.] 

[Fight? You believe you can stand against the Tau Empire?]

Zekt sighed and shut the comms off.

"Power up the guns, Sal. We're going in hard."

Sal flipped a switch on _Deliverance_'s controls and the ship spiraled towards the Manta. 150mm cannon extended from it's hull, tracking the Tau ship. 

Before the Tau gunners could even get a fix on the Kytharin ship, it had latched to the hull of the Manta, thick magnetic Boarding Pads holding it tightly to the Tau ship's hull.

[You will retreat!] roared the Tau. Zekt shut off the external comm array. 

_Deliverance_ was originally an ore scow, and still retained one critical piece of equipment. With a screeching roar, a vast breacher drill extended from the bottom of the ship, spinning faster then the tech-adepts on Quet'zal would have thought possible, or approved of. It bit into the hull of the Manta and rose to a screeching pitch as the atmosphere in the ship was blown into the void, along with debris and frozen bodies.

Now with most of the crew dead or running for their lives, _Deliverance_ broke free, it's shields absorbing the few railgun slugs the automated systems fired, and fired six 150mm slugs into the breach. The Tau ship came apart, throwing shrapnel and burning wreckage.

"Brace for debris." chimed the AI. A few chunks of the ship pinged off _Deliverance_'s hull.

The ship nudged through the debris field and burst into blue fire as it entered the planet's atmosphere. Zekt expertly piloted them around rocky mountains and outcrops, a few times passing rusted and unused AA sites, or anti-ship rockets. 

Finally a vast marble fortress came into view, now shattered and defiled, but still giving off an aura of power and honor. Vines clung to the sides of it, and plants grew from the cracks in the pavement. In better days, the Fortress of Hera had been protected from aerial assault by a massive energy field. Now stripped of that shield, Zekt set _Deliverance_ down in the parade ground, easily a half-mile wide and a quarter long.

Kyra stepped down the ramp, stopping.

"This isn't a fort." she said. Sal walked down next to her.

"It's a tomb."

Tens of thousands of bodies littered the field, massive Space Marines in rusted suits of power armor, skeletal Guardsmen clad in Carapace and Flak armor. Huge piles of orange-brown shell casings had rusted into heaps of corrosion. A Land Raider tank was smashed thirty feet away, scorch marks on it's inside and a horrific impact on it's upper plating.

Sal breathed.

"Well, we might want to get this over with." he said. 

He stepped gingerly around the bodies, making his way to the massive Temple of the Primarch visible on the fortress' western wall. A dozen huge Terminator-armored Space Marines were lying on the steps, back to back, where they had died to protect the relics inside. Kyra stepped around them and crept through the smashed doors.

The stasis field that had protected the body of Roboute Gulliman, the Ultramarines' Primarch, was switched off. The Primarch lay a few feet away from the throne he had sat on for a hundred centuries, riddled by claw marks and massive Venom Cannon burns. The flesh on his body was gone, exposing the greying bones.

"Yeesh." said Sal. "On the dead scale, this individual gets an A+."

Next to the Primarch was a massive warrior in artificer Terminator Armor, two massive gauntlets on his hands. Twin power fists with attached bolters.

"Those are the Gauntlets?" asked Sal, indicating the dead warrior.

Kyra nodded. The pair of them grunted and turned the warrior over, exposing a skeleton with one side of it's face completely made of bionics.

"Calgar." said Kyra. She rubbed a patch of rust off the neckguard of the marine, reading.

"Whatever. Help me with this." said Sal. He took a cutting torch from his belt and began to slice through the armor holding the Gauntlets on.

One of the massive gauntlets fell to the ground, clanking heavily off the polished marble of the Temple. 

Sal was halfway through the other when someone cleared their throat.

Kyra turned around, sidearm in hand and aimed before Sal even turned to look.

A man in dark red robes, with black armor. 

"Put that down, creature." he said.

Sal growled, but shut off the torch and stood up, holding an Impaler.

"Regulus." said the man. A massive Space Marine in silvery grey armor strode up the steps, carrying a vast weapon in one hand and with a twin-barreled Storm Bolter on the back of the other hand.

Regulus took a vast step forward, batting the Impaler from Sal's hand. Kyra stepped back, sending a rain of Impaler bolts off of the marine's chest plate.

"I am the Hammer." invoked the marine. He swept the weapon around, a massive halberd that crackled and hissed as it rang off Kyra's chestplate. She was thrown sideways, glancing off the Primarch's body. 

"Take them alive." said the Inquisitor. "The Biologis has never caught a live Kytharin."

[Kyra, this is Zekt.] rang the comms. [They're in orbit. I pulled _Deliverance_ back to the second planet in-system, but I can't extract you. Can you do anything?!]

[No. Get out of here.] replied Kyra.

[But-]

[Just do it!]

[Roger that, boss. Jumping now.]

Regulus put a hand to his helmet, listening.

"We've got a confirmed jump out-system. Mass Relay ship." he said the the Inquisitor.

"Well, let them run. We've got the Gauntlets and some prisoners."

Regulus picked up both armored Kytharin as if they were children and carried them back to the Inquisitor's shuttle, throwing them in electrified cages in the rear.

"When we get to Espandor, strip their armor and gear and bring it to the tech-priests. Give them to the Biologis once that is done." said the Inquisitor.

"As the Emperor wills." replied Regulus.

Kyra looked at Sal. The Kytharin had a trickle of cyan blood coming from his brow where the Marine had cracked his helmet.

"_Kep magnus, Sal'ika._" she said. _Stay strong, Sal_.

Sal looked up.

"Survival is not enough." he replied. 

Then the world went black as Regulus knocked her out with a single strike.


----------



## Dirge Eterna

Come on guys, 200+ views and 9 feedback posts is making me a little blue here. If you've got the time to read something like this you've got the time to right YAY or NAY. lol.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_I think she's coming to._

_How the frak you know that thing's even a she, Evan?_

_Medicae, asshole. I know. Get me some more bandages._

Kyra groaned and put a hand to her head, massaging the place Regulus had hit her. Her eyes fluttered open.

She kicked out, throwing the man away, and rolled up into a low fighting stance.

"Woah, calm down." said another man. He wore a grey coverall with metal manacles and rings attached to it. Kyra noticed she wore the same garment, extended to cover her tail.

"Who the frak are you?" she snarled.

"Evan." he said. "Settle down, please."

"I frakking _won't_ settle down! Where's Sal? Where _are_ we?!"

Evan took a cautious step towards her, helping up the man she'd kicked. 

"You're on Espandor." he said. "In Biologis Facility Sigma E."

"Biologis?" Kyra asked, confused.

"The SDF's biology and mutations wing. They're obsessed with keeping their genes pure."

She cursed lowly.

"I need to get out of here."

The other man, the one she'd kicked, stood up, laughing. A trickle of blood flowed out of his mouth.

"Don't we all, scalie. You're actually a fortunate one. They thought you were a mutie instead of some Xenos. Tossed you in here with us."

She noticed his eyes were reversed. Totally black, with white pupils. The other man winced and thin spines grew from his arms, legs, and back.

"Mutants." she said.

"Yep." said the black-eyed-man. "Name's Ray. Short for X-ray."

"Corny." she remarked, shaking his proffered hand.

"That's cute, scalie. Cute will get you killed in here."

Kyra bared her fangs. "I'd love to see them try."

Evan sniffed, and the spines retracted. "No, you wouldn't. Espandor's got some real nasties in it."

"Where's Sal?" she asked. 

Before Evan could answer, a burly man in Carapace armor flung open the door. Evan and Ray stood against the wall. Ten men in flak armor and carrying shock batons swarmed over Kyra, pinning her down and dragging her away.

"Nice meeting you." said Evan, and a guard smashed him down with a baton.

The big man shoved the guards forward.

"Someone will die for putting the Xenos in the mutant wing." he growled.

Kyra was dumped into a room with two massive lifter-servitors and a twittering Adeptus Biologis adept. He looked her over and gestured.

The servitors gripped her by the arms and legs, laying her down on a heavy durasteel table with restraints. They unbuckled the restraints and pulled the coveralls off with a sound of cloth tearing. The adept cocked his head, and satisfied she wouldn't attack him, approached the table with a recording device in one hand. He spoke into it.

"Subject is Kytharin, or Xenos Species K-14667. Female, approximately seven foot two and weighing..."

He consulted a scanner on the table.

"Two hundred and fifty-two pounds."

He ran a metallic finger along her arm, making her flinch.

"Advanced musculature, highly evolved cardiac systems. Shows evidence of two hearts."

He pulled open a drawer and attached a sensor to her stomach, looking at the screen.

"Subject is able to breed, but does not appear child bearing at time of observation."

The sensor was pulled off and replaced in the drawer. The adept leaned over and cocked a head at the two tattoos adorning Kyra's left shoulder. The first was an open book overlaid by a dragon, wings extended. The tattoo was simple black ink.

"Belongs to the Ven'couyt hub world."

The second was simpler. A single Kytharin character, rendered in reddish ink.

"Has a secondary tattoo. Note that this is unusual. Perhaps a warrior order or pirate insignia."

He addressed her directly for the first time.

"Care to answer that? It'll be less painful."

She snarled. "It means _Justice_."

"Ah, honor. Of course."

He turned away, pulling a razor-sharp scalpel from a drawer.

"Confirming interior make-up now." he said.

"This might hurt." he added, moving away from the recorder.

Kyra snapped the right hand restraint, a loose band of plasteel, much weaker then the others, and grabbed the adept around the neck, pulling him close.

"This might hurt worse."

She smashed his head against the table, embedding several horrifying-looking medical implements into his skull. The adept opened his mouth in a wordless scream, blood pouring from his fractured head, and collapsed. Kyra pulled the rest of the restraints off and stripped the Adept's body, pulling on the thin chain mail rainment, and the reddish cloak, now stained with flecks of blood and shock gel.

She looked around, and began to open doors at random. A cabinet near the door proved to be an arms locker, and Kyra cocked a pair of bolt pistols.

She turned to the servitors, still waiting for orders, and shot both of them through the head.

A shout rose outside the door, and a young man in flak armor burst in. Kyra shot him through the stomach, exploding his organs.

She walked briskly down the hall, the cloak obscuring her face, but the seven foot frame would draw attention. She reached a remote terminal and blessed Zekt for enduring the endless ridicule she'd given him when her taught her to hack.

The computer spat out a long list of prisoners, and one caught her eye.

"KYTHARIN MALE, Subsection C, Biologis Sigma E."

Kyra tossed the list into a wastebasket and rushed down the hall, a siren rising in pitch behind her as the guards discovered the carnage in the observation room.

The elevator was also operated by servitor. As soon as the doors opened to Subsection C Kyra snapped the machine's neck. At the very least it would slow the SDF down.

Subsection C turned out to be a line of fifteen cells with an emergency access chute at the end of the hall. A half-dozen guards loitered around a table, playing cards. Kyra pulled the pistols out and opened fire, blowing brains and gore across the walls. The last guard staggered forward a step, his hands at his stomach while organs flopped from the hole, and Kyra shot him in the head.

"Sal?" she said. "Sal!"

"_Ky'ika_?" came a voice.

Kyra threw open the door, and a short Hrud blinked. She brought up a foot and crushed his ribs, tossing him back.

"Sal?" she said. Sal was in the back corner of the cell, badly beaten and with a long cut along his face, eclipsing the eye.

"Who?" she said simply.

Sal pointed at the Hrud, who was now drawing a makeshift knife with a look of rage on it's face.

Kyra turned, knocking the knife from his hand and putting a dozen bolter shells into him. The Hrud exploded into globs of jellied flesh and offal, and Sal took Kyra's hand.

"Time to go." said Kyra.

The elevator banged, and screeches echoed from the shaft.

The two Kytharin walked from the cell, Sal limping a little, and Kyra shouldered open the access hatch. 

It looked over the Espandor plains, almost sixty feet below.

Kyra leaned out and tested a ledge with her weight. She tossed the pistols away and began the climb. Sal tried for the same ledge and missed, falling.

Kyra reached out and grabbed him, pulling him against the rocks. Sal grasped at the side of the mesa, an infinite weariness in his eyes.

The pair took almost a half-hour to climb down, Sal almost falling twice more. As they reached the ground he collapsed.

Kyra picked him up in her arms and walked across the plain, looking for a copse of trees. After ten minutes they reached a spot she knew from Lar's stories. A grey rock with a red arrow painted on it. She levered the rock up, revealing a hole leading into a cave, little more then ten feet in any direction, and lowered Sal in, following.

She leaned her head against the wall, the exhaustion finally catching up with her.

"Nice save." said Sal, breathless.

"You'd have done the same." said Kyra.

"No." said Sal. "I wouldn't. I would have gotten killed somewhere."

"Stop doubting yourself, Sal. You're a good friend and a damned good soldier."

Kyra yawned widely. Everything seemed brighter, more in depth. 

Sal was obviously under the same spell. He leaned forward, hands on his knees, still wearing the grey coveralls. 

"I feel pretty good." he said.

"Me too." said Kyra.

"How long you think it'll take Zekt to pick up a beacon?" 

"Long enough, I think."

Kyra pulled a survivor's kit from the earth, and located the ship beacon. She set it aside and smiled at Sal.

He looked back, and suddenly seemed tired again.

"Maybe we should just activate the beacon." he said, a nervous twinge in his voice.

Kyra looked at him, amused.

"Maybe we should."

She flipped a switch, and the beacon began to blink.

------------------------------------

Twenty-seven parsecs away, Zekt was pacing the bridge of _Deliverance_, thinking about anything he could have done.

"Stupid, I was stupid. Washed-up. A _mir'osikla_-"

His rant was stopped by a blip.

A distress signal tuned to the ship's specific frequency.

Zekt ran to the control panel.

"Hold on, guys." he said.

He flicked on the Mass Relay engines.


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander

Awesome, a break out. This girl is positively ninja!


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## Dirge Eterna

Thanks. I was wondering if I overdid it, but based on that response I think I'll keep the breakout as-is.


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## Vaz

Excellent reads as always, far outstripping anything I've been able to put pen to paper to.

Just a quicky though, is this 'Deliverance' linked in any way to your previous stories?


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## Dirge Eterna

The ship? I may have used the name before, but it's over 5000 years after even my latest stories, so no, _Deliverance_ has no relation to any other fic of mine. That was my intention, I didn't want to put any connections to this, start fresh.
----------------------------------------------------------

"This is an outrage!" yelled Kelorum.

Kyra shivered, despite the heavy cloak she wore over her armor. The garment was trimmed with black fur at the collar, a striking contrast to the light grey armor.

"You can not blame her alone for the SDF's incursions! We knew this day would come!" replied Rek, shaking a fist. Kelorum growled and sat down.

The circular Cloister of Heroes was on Kytharia, in the massive Clan Hall. It was the only place in Kytharin space that the numerous clans and pirate fleets could meet in relative peace. The six major clans were represented by four or five Kytharin, the smallest Pirate fleets lucky to have a single representative.

Kelorum and six Aay'han Stormserpents were on one side of the room, across from Rek and two of Ven'couyt's Praetorian Guard. Another two figures were present, clad in silvery armor with pure white talbards and cloaks. The Knights of Silence. Other clans sat around the room, with a single Kytharia Clan Guard standing in the center holding a staff made of bone.

"The Clans recognize the representative from Ven'couyt." said the Guard.

Rek sniffed. "My fellows, we are already at war. The SDF has begun a reoccupation of the systems surrounding the Segmentum Pacificus. Already our forward listening posts and scout ships are reporting fleet movements well beyond our previous indicators."

He paused and looked at Kyra, a smile tugging at his lips.

"If _Deliverance_ hadn't brought word of their activity on Espandor, Macragge, and Arabica, we would be under attack even now. As it stands, Ven'couyt's PDF fleet is engaging the enemy on Ceris. Who will stand with us?"

The first silver-armored Kytharin removed a helmet, showing her face to the air. She had scars running down her left cheek and her armor was adorned with gold edging.

"The Knights of Silence are with you." she said. Rek nodded.

"We are happy to have you."

Kelorum sighed and crossed his arms. 

"Aay'han will not go to war. This is not our fight. If the SDF is expanding they will go east towards the Tau Enclave-"

Kyra stood up.

"Did you not hear?! We are already under attack! The time for speculation is over! The clans must go to war!"

She looked at the Stormserpent behind Kelorum, a vast warrior in reddish armor that barely contained his figure.

"Our honor is at stake."

The Stormserpent winced as she used the word, and stood up, pushing Kelorum down.

"The warrior clans will fight, even if our _leaders_ will not."

Kelorum looked at the trooper with something approaching rage.

"You are disgraceful." said the soldier. He shoved Kelorum out of the Chamber.

"Quet'zal's forges are behind Ven'couyt." said a Kytharin across the hall. He was covered by augmetics and wore a pair of heavy blast goggles on his forehead.

"As is Te'kiel's shipyards." said another.

"Kel'de will fight." said a third.

The Clan Guard in the center of the hall tapped the staff on the ground.

"Then the clans will go to war."

------------------------------

Kyra followed her father down the steps of the Clan Hall.

"Father-" she began. Rek turned.

"_Ky'ika_." he replied.

"Father, thank you." she said.

"Not at all. If it was not for your testimonies about the SDF on those worlds they'd be running their flag up the pole right now."

Kyra looked at the ground.

"I... I mean for everything."

Rek smiled. He kissed Kyra on the forhead and put his hands on her shoulders.

"You never owed this old lizard anything, Kyra."

She smiled back. "So, is it done?"

A siren sounded in the distance, and a massive Kytharin Dreadnought blasted off the ground. The pair watched as the vast ship vanished into the clouds over the city.

Rek's eyes took on a sad tone.

"No, _Ky'ika_. I think this is just beginning."


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## Micklez

oooooo, this is amazing mate. extra points for killing smurfs  You are a very talented writer mr eterna, +Rep


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## Dirge Eterna

If you read back, actually. In every fic I've written in the future, the Ultramarines die in some fashion lol. 
---------------------------------------------------------------------

[Warp portals opening]

[Isolated approach vectors. Sixteen _Stormrider_-class battlegroups, make it four capital ships per group. We've got about fifteen seconds.]

[Flotilla is slowing the engagement speed.]

[Do not engage, repeat do not engage, forget them. Target the landing craft.]

[Sir, they're launching missiles.]

[No landers spotted.]

[Bastards. What are they doing?]

[_Reverus_ has gone, sir.]

[They're launching fighters!]

[They're trying for the orbital lanes! Close up and advance!]

[Evade! Evade!]

[Sweet Emperor, they're so fast...]

[Forget the landers! Make them bleed!]


--------------------------------

As the vast Kytharin fleets burned the SDF battlegroup in low orbit, thousands of _Osprey_ and _Talon_-class dropships fell to the planet. Within twenty minutes of the fleet's first sighting in-system, every Imperial garrison on Ceris was under siege.

Through it all, _Deliverance_ fell among the massive landers, a platoon of Stormserpents, and a single unit of Knights on board. Kyra had offered the vessel as a lander, an offer Kelorum and Rek had been eager to accept.

For the mission, Sal and Kyra wore the heavy power armor they'd used on Arabica, deep red and deep blue, respectively. The joints whined quietly as they moved. On the Mass Relay jump, Kyra had gotten to know the two leaders of the units riding the ship into battle. Dez was the leader of the Stormserpents, a brute of a Kytharin who carried a Heavy Impaler like his fellows held their rifles. In many ways the Knights of Silence's leader was the exact opposite. Her name was Jesc, a lithe, thin Kytharin who looked more like a medicae then a soldier. She wore the silver Knight's armor and carried a crackling halberd with a fierce pride.

Zekt piloted _Deliverance_ expertly over the carpet of SDF anti-air and small arms, as the vast landers disgorged their soldiers into the thick of the battle. Kyra's ship came down on a command bunker's roof, crushing the AA battery under it's bulk. The ramp opened and Dez stomped out, his soldiers following. An SDF Stormtrooper was pinned under the heavy ramp, screaming. Dez pulled his sidearm out and shot the man through the head. He lit a narc-stick, taking a long draw, and putting his helmet on.

"Alright, spawnlings." he bellowed. "Last one to cap a pinky buys the ales."

The Stormserpents roared approval and took off down the access points, the sounds of gunfire and explosions filtering up. Jesc and the Knights walked down the ramp serenely, their weapons held in ready grips. Kyra and Sal walked with them.

"Honor and Victory." said Jesc. The Knights shouted as one in reply. They too stormed down into the bunker.

Sal looked at Kyra, who stood holding an Impaler in one hand.

"What are we still doing here?" he asked.

"Kicking ass. Taking names." she replied. "Oh, and I want my relics back."

"Really? Are we _really_ going after them?"

"Command bunker, Sal. Means good stuff. You can borrow my pillaging shovel."

The pair leapt down a vent, crashing into the midst of a battle. A single SDF heavy bolter team was at one door, six Stormserpents at the other end of the room. A single Kytharin was down in a pool of blood, a vast wound in his chest.

The SDF trooper manning the bolter saw them and tried to adjust his aim, but they were too close. Kyra wrenched the bolter out of his grip and smashed his ribs in with a massive _snap_ noise. Sal grabbed the loader and pinned him against the wall, unloading a half-dozen shots into him.

The Stormserpents got up, one pausing the pull the holotags from the dead Kytharin, before moving on. Kyra and Sal ran down the stairs behind the heavy bolter team, passing more Kytharin, these ones the drop troops on the landers outside. 

A dozen sounds spoke of battle ahead of them. Kyra turned a corner, taking a half-dozen hellbolts to the chest and shoulders. A single round passed right through the armor, blowing a singed half-circle out of her arm. She yelped and ducked back.

"An Astartes, and a squad of troopers."

Sal shook his head. "Astartes."

A drop trooper with a dozen fat optics on his helmet peered around the corner.

"Gotcha." he said. He picked up the rifle he held and fired a shot that made him step back, such was the weapon's recoil. A familiar sound filtered back. Like an armful of buckets falling.

"No way." said Sal.

"Yep." said the trooper. "Prosecutor rifle from back home. Takes em' down at up to two miles from a clean headshot."

The SDF troopers milled around in confusion. Kyra and Sal leaned out from cover and rattled Impaler rounds down the hall, scything through the carapace armor.

Kyra limped a little as they stepped over the Space Marine, noting the vast hole through his visor. A heavy spiker round was embedded in the wall behind the Marine.

Sal pulled open the door they'd been guarding, and scooped up a massive black case with the Inquisitorial I and the eagle symbol of the SDF stamped on it. They cracked the seal, exposing two vast gauntlets and a small vial of crystals that looked laughably small in comparison.

"Got em." said Sal. Kyra patted him on the shoulder, and they began to retreat back up the building, walking past Jesc and her Knights as they went through the command center. The Knight nodded to Kyra.

Zekt was waiting on _Deliverance_'s ramp as they exited onto the roof of the building. 

"Got trade?" he asked simply.

"Yeah. Nice flying, _mir'osik_." said Kyra, pointing at a long laser burn on the ship's prow, still glowing cherry red.

"That's coming out of your share."

Zekt rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. That'll buff right out."

The three stepped up the ramp, and _Deliverance_ boosted out of the planet's atmosphere, returning to the war fleet.
---------------------------------------------

Still in low orbit was the SDF cruiser _Hand of Night_. The observation deck was populated by only three people. One was Inquisitor Adrian Black, the man who'd captured Kyra and Sal on Macragge. To his left was Regulus, the Grey Knight. Both stared at the third man in the room, who was looking out at the unfolding war below them.

"Lord." said Inquisitor Black. 

Lord Commander Maxim Volk turned to Black, sighing.

"What is it, Adrian?" he asked. The man's eyes had deep black rings under them.

"Can you do it, Maxim? Can you go all the way?"

"Yes, Inquisitor." said Vulk. "I can go all the way."

"Watch!" ordered Black. He grabbed Vulk and shoved him towards the viewport. "To capture and study them is one thing, but to unleash them on a force is another!"

"I know that!" roared Vulk. The force of his reply startled Black, but he quickly hid the emotion.

"Then is everything prepared?" asked Black. He offered the Commander a cigar. The man took it. 

"Yes. Everything is ready."

Black poured himself a measure of amasec from a capped decanter.

"Then we will lie still, and let our prey come to us. They may be strong, Commander, but they have betrayed a fatal weakness."

He flipped on a pic-capturer, showing Kyra and Sal carrying the fat black case onto _Deliverance_.

"Greed." he said. "That will be their undoing."

The ship's intercomm squawked.

[Sir, the SDF positions will be overrun in a matter of minutes. Should we intervene?]

Vulk looked at the carpeted floor beneath his boots.

Black curled his lip in distaste.

"No. Take us into high orbit, Mr. Cross."

[Aye, Inquisitor.]

Far below, Guardsman Jacob Holdren fell to his knees as he watched the _Hand of Night_ turn away from the battle, fading from sight. A silver armored Kytharin holding a vast Force Pike pinned him to the ground, drawing the pike back, and just before he died, Holdren saw a banner bearing the dragon-book emblem of Ven'couyt being raised on a pile of dead Astartes.

The world went black, and there was peace.


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander

Awesome, that alternate view ending is very cool!


----------



## Dirge Eterna

Thanks OXC. After a few days, I think I've finally plotted out the entire length of this story. Time for an update!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"To our fallen!" roared Dez.

"The fallen!!" the soldiers screamed back. They raised steins of ale and beer, clashing them together.

Dez sat down at the table, still in full battle armor. He wiped a patch of drying blood from his shoulder and took a swig from his mug. Sal and Kyra sat opposite him, Zekt on his right, and Jesc on his left.

"And to you, of course." he said, gesturing with the ale. Kyra smiled. 

"He did the flying." she pointed at Zekt.

"He's not nearly as pretty." said Dez. Zekt snorted.

"Tell me that when you're not drunk." said Kyra. Dez laughed. 

Lars and two Kytharin pulled what looked like a whole roasted grox onto the table, and Lars sat down.

"So, what's been going on?" he asked.

"What's the matter with you?" said Dez. "Pinky."

"Lars is with us." said Kyra.

Lars yawned widely. "Your friend's been teaching me the finer ways of money. I can deal directly with the SDF now, if you want."

From the side of the table came a noise like a chainsaw through a slab of beef. Dez and Zekt were having an eating contest, the Stormserpent easily outstripping the lighter pilot.

"You can?" asked Kyra.

"If you want to cut out Wes." said Lars. 

She leaned back and bit her lip. "Well, if it comes to that. We've got the other two relics they took."

Lars nodded. "That'll be great."

A dozen Stormserpents started a brawl two tables over, six on six in full armor. Sharp _crack_s sounded as armor clashed together. Lars looked in alarm. 

Dez snorted. "Don't worry, Pinky. They're having some fun."

He got up, grabbing a side of beef on a spit from the table, and joined in the melee, bludgeoning the soldiers around him with the spit. He paused to take bites from it now and again.

Jesc smiled. "Well, at least he's tough."

Sal nodded and took a bite of the grox. "He's having fun."

Lars looked exasperated. "Well, then. Anyways, we'll have an easier time dealing with the SDF merchants now. By the way, did you get my share from the pistol?"

Kyra leaned back in the chair. "Your share? You weren't there."

"But I gave you the location."

"But you _weren't there_. We took on an Astartes. You can get 5%, max."

Lars stood up. "So that's how it's going to be?"

Kyra looked at him. "I'm fighting a war. That's how it's going to be."

Lars laughed, and swept an arm around the room. "A war!? You're all going to get crushed! No matter how tough you are, the SDF still outnumbers you a thousand to one, not counting ships, tanks, or Space Marines, for Emperor's sake!"

The talking and drinking stopped. The melee two tables over ceased instantly. Dez stood up, the side of beef in one hand.

"What did you say, Pinky?" he asked dangerously. Lars seemed to shrink.

"You must understand." said Lars. "You can't beat them squarely."

Dez shoved Lars over, planting an armored talon on his chest and holding the side of beef before him like a sword.

"Careful with those words, pinky. The wrong ears might take that for dishonor."

"You can't hurt me." said Lars, but the fire was gone from his eyes now.

The Stormserpents laughed. Dez smiled. "I can't, can I?"

He picked Lars up and dashed him across the table. Kyra picked up her mug just before the man swept over the food and drinks.

"Dishonor us again and we'll hang you from your own guts." threatened Dez.

Lars looked at Kyra, who shrugged. 

"Fine." spat Lars. He got up. "I'm done with this shit. Fight your war."

He walked out.

Jesc watched him go. "You handled that well."

Kyra swallowed. "Well, can't deal with all of them. I needed to cut him loose at some point. Dez and the Storms would probably have killed him sooner or later."

Jesc nodded. "Or my Paladins would have. Some of them are reasonable, others, well. You get the idea."

Kyra yawned and tapped Sal with her elbow, making him flinch. He sat up straight.

"I'm awake." he said.

"Sure you are." said Kyra. "Come on. Kelorum's giving a briefing on the next planet. Some hellhole called Threshia."

The pair walked across the temporary compound to a vast hanger area with a holo emitter set up in the center. Kelorum was in the midst of a sentence to dozens of soldiers and pilots.

"-jungle planet, population of about seventy million. The standard PDF force is three million, but the advanced stages of a SDF Guard regiment has already made planetfall. Our forward fleets have already made contact, but you should expect a protracted war."

The soldiers groaned. Sal swayed slightly. Kyra caught him and dragged him up.

"That's about it." she said. "Jungle world. Great."

She pulled Sal along, working her way across the compound again to the patch of earth _Deliverance_ sat on, the ship looking sleek and shiny in the cold night on Ceris. 

Sal yawned. "I wasn't really tired."

"I guessed." replied Kyra. "I was right about you, back on Cadia."

He seemed shy. "Yeah."

"And you're drunk."

"Do you care?"

Kyra thought about it for a moment. "No, not really. Celebrations and all."

"How long does it take Zekt to fail to impress a platoon of Stormserpents?"

Kyra smiled and pressed the CLOSE panel on the ship's ramp.

"Long enough, I think."


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander

Wicked. I think I can see what's going to happen soonish, but I'll keep my mouth closed.


----------



## Dirge Eterna

Oh, great. Now you've done it. I'm curious now. lol, send me a PM with your predictions. Some of them might make it into the story. 

It's my great weakness. Never say "But I won't say", or "Keep my mouth shut"

It makes me even more curious lol >.<


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## Micklez

I think i might have an idea as well. In any case awsome write up mate, looking forward to more


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## Dirge Eterna

lolz. Well, no predictions, so I'm forced to ramble on, as is my custom 
------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Deliverance_ shuddered slightly, making Sal bolt upright. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. Kyra sat up groggily next to him.

"Wha? What happened?" she asked.

"I think we're on-ship." said Sal. He got out of the bed and pulled on his flight armor's pants.

Kyra laid back, yawning and stretching. She checked the chronometer set into the wall of her room. 2300. Less then six hours since she'd led Sal back to the ship.

"Zekt must've taken the ship back up." she said. Sal nodded, still pulling on his armor. He snapped his shoulderpads on and attached his helmet to his belt. The door swished open as he pressed a touchpad, and then he was gone.

Kyra stared at the ceiling, recounting the night's events. She smiled to herself and threw off the blanket, pulling on her own suit of flight armor. 

Zekt was on the bridge, sitting reclined in the pilot's chair. Kyra sat down at the holotable, adjusting the display until it showed Threshia.

"Was it good for you?" snickered Zekt. Kyra shot him a glare and he turned around.

"Where are we?" she asked.

Zekt turned in the chair and walked over to the holotable. 

"Well, I suppose you wouldn't know, having been on your back all-"

"Zekt."

He sighed. "Fine. We're on _Serenity_, the carrier for the Ven'couyt fleet. We're going to hit Threshia's orbital lanes in about three hours."

"Good. Anyone we know on board?"

"Dez's Stormserpents, I think Jesc and a few of the Paladins are here too, some stayed on Ceris to oversee the rebuilding."

Zekt sipped a bottle of water and tapped a few controls on the holotable.

"I did manage to catch Kelorum's speech in the hangars after you two...left, at least. SDF's got this place locked down hard. They're training the civvies to play tough, and we should expect some LaMoEs too. They've got strongpoints," 

He tapped the map projection, highlighting three spots.

"Here, here, and here." 

Kyra sat down in the navigational chair, pondering.

"Who's going in first?"

"The Slayers, then Stormserpents, and then the Knights. We can go anytime we want, really. We're still not officially part of this war."

Kyra nodded. "Well, that's something.

------------------------------------------------------------
_Three hours, fourty-four minutes later_

A QI-74S "Talon" Dropship was not a lightly armored craft. Six stubby engines propelled it from the belly of _Serenity_. 150mm cannons tracked the movements of other craft as they fell through the atmosphere, through the burning wreckage of dozens of SDF orbital defense platforms.

_Deliverance_ once again held soldiers, instead of Stormserpents and Paladins, however, this time thirty-seven Kel'de Slayers stood in the halls and bays of the ship. They were more practical warriors then the decorated Aay'han or Ven'couyt soldiers. The Slayers had green camouflaged armor, with camo nets as cloaks. They carried grenades and Impaler rifles painted matte-black. Their leader had a bandanna around his helmet, an Ace of Spades stuck into the band.

"So, when are we'ze gonna hit the LZ?" he said in a thick Kel'de accent. Kyra shrugged.

"When you stop complaining?" she offered. The Slayer laughed and slapped her on the back, making her flinch.

"Good one, sweetie. Now, when you get to groundz, we gonna have a nice hootch set up, maybe, eh, two klicks from here. You wanna bunk wit us, just say the word."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Sure. I'll stay on my ship, behind plasteel and one-twenties, thanks." 

The ship's intercomm crackled. 

[Thirty seconds. Clear the ramp.]

The Slayers shuffled around.

[Fifteen seconds. Redlight.]

The drop bay turned red as the drop lamps flicked on.

"Helmetz and gunz, maggotz!" yelled the Slayer's commander. The Kytharins cocked their weapons.

[Five seconds.]

The ship bumped slightly as it touched the ground.

The ramp opened.

A blaze of bullets smashed through the Slayers, taking the closest ones apart at nearly point-blank range. The Commander was hit through the waist by a bolter round and blown neatly in half.

The rest staggered down the ramp, taking up positions to return fire at the camouflaged Heavy Bolter team firing at them. A grenade sailed through the air and blasted the gunner and loader into paste. The spotter stood to run and caught a dozen Impaler bolts through his torso.

As the noise died down, The Slayers picked up their dead, including the shorn commander. They tossed the bodies in an unceremonious pile and formed up, moving off.

Kyra stepped down the ramp, looking at the dead soldiers.

[That was abrupt.] said Sal over the comms.

"Yeah." she said. The Ace of Spades was still stuck in the bandanna, spattered by a spot of bluish blood. Kyra untied the bandanna, and put it in her pocket, playing card and all.

"Yeah, it was."


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander

Freakin sweet. D-day landings much...


----------



## Dirge Eterna

Well, I WAS going to go clubbin' with some of the guys (clubbin' as in "stay in one bar, talk, and eat"), but everybody feebed out on me at the last second. Cold pizza and flat beer for the win. Either way, nothing's doing tonight, so I decided to keep on truckin' with this. Oh, and almost 450 views.

Also, as a special treat, I present to you, Deliverance
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, what are we doing?" asked Sal.

"Shut up." said Kyra.

The pair walked down the gangway from _Deliverance_ onto the hanger deck of _Serenity_. A Kytharin in a black robe trimmed with reddish edging looked them over. He was almost entirely encrusted with augmetics, and wore a heavy pair of welding goggles on his forehead.

"Hello." he said cheerfully. "I am Augmentor Berris, of Quet'zal."

"Freelancer Kyra, of _Deliverance_."

"Ship-born?" asked the Augmentor. Kyra nodded.

"Though I do consider myself a part of Ven'couyt." she added.

"Ah, well, then you can be of help to me." Berris said. He gestured around the hanger bay.

"You see, this old ship requires a very specific type of drive coil, one only made in a sect on Quet'zal. Unfortunately, during the jump from Ceris, our remaining spare was destroyed. While the ship can still function, the high lords do not wish to continue our war without a spare coil."

"You want me to go to Quet'zal, from here, to get your coil." said Kyra.

"Erm. Yes." said Berris.

"No. That's Reaver space. You have any idea what the hell they do?"

Berris licked his lips. "Well, yes, but you're armed, see, so-"

"Reavers," growled Kyra, "Are the most warlike pirate fleet in our space. If they catch us, they will torture us, rape us to death, skin us, and strap our dead bodies to their ship. In that order, if we are _very_ lucky. That's not something that's high on my list of priorities." 

Zekt walked down the ramp, holding one of the soldiers' bodies. The dead Slayers had been brought back up on _Deliverance_ to be cremated, as per Kel'de custom.

Berris sighed, and seemed to deflate. "You will be rewarded, of course. Ten thousand credits for the return of the coil."

"Ten thousand?" asked Kyra. "Well, that changes some things, but again, I'm not going to risk running Reaver space for a _spare frakking part_."

Zekt looked over the pile of bodies, then looked at _Deliverance_. A smile came to his lips.

"I think I know how to get us through." he said. "But we're going to need lots of paint."

---------------------------

Six hours later, Kyra flipped the welding mask up and stared, part horror and part admiration, at _Deliverance_.

The fat round drive repulsors now had torched skeletons strapped over the cowlings. The nose under the windscreens held another six skeletons chained to the ship's prow. Spars and spikes jutted past them. Streaks of blue paint were daubed liberally on the ship, making it seem blood-splattered. _Deliverance_ had been peeled off the ship's nose and _Scourge_ was written in horrific blue splatterpaint. Extra modar and vox-masts were applied to the ship, and dozens of tubes that went nowhere, making the ship look much more haphazard. The sigil of the Reavers was daubed in black and blue paint on the middle repulsor cowlings. 

Berris flinched as he walked into the hangar.

"Did you really do that?" he asked.

"Yep." said Kyra. "It's a good idea. As long as the Reavers don't board us, we'll be cool."

"Horrible." said Berris. "I will inform Quet'zal TC to eradicate those beasts as soon as possible. I have never seen a Reaver ship, but this mock-up is sufficient to back up your word."

"Yeah." said Kyra. "You will." 

Sal turned to Kyra. "Count me out of this one. I'm going to ground to help out Dez with some stuff."

Berris nodded, and Kyra stepped aboard the converted _Deliverance_, taking off. Once outside the massive hangar bays of _Serenity_, the Mass Relay drives flashed into life, and _Deliverance_ winked out of existence above Threshia.

---------------------------------------------------------

Almost half the Segmentum away, the ship reappeared. Poorly welded spars and plated were flung off by the force of the jump. Perfect Reaver entry, thought Kyra.

A vast graveyard of ships and stations littered the Quet'zal spacelanes. The Boneyard, as it was known, was only one of two ways into the planet's airspace. The other was strictly monitored by Quet'zal's PDF fleet, but they would have refused the ship entry on learning it was not from Quet'zal. So _Deliverance_ had to prove to the planet's lords it was strong enough, by passing the Reavers.

_Deliverance_ drifted slowly, Kyra purposefully venting excess radiation and energy into space to give off an air of a derelict Reaver raider. As they passed a vast Orbital Station, now shedding parts and surrounded by scrap, a vast spotlight snapped on, illuminating the ship in it's beam.

Zekt piloted the ship ineptly, bumping against debris and frozen bodies on purpose. The light wavered, then flicked off.

"You think they bought it?" asked Sal.

_Deliverance_ drifted by the station, the skeletons chained to the hull wavering in the absence of gravity.

The radio chimed. Zekt looked at Kyra.

Kyra picked up the receiver, and breathed in, before coughing loudly to distort her voice, and pressed the CONNECT panel.

[This is the _Meathook_. Who are you, cousin?] 

Kyra snarled. [The _Scourge_, back from raiding Reimos.]

That much was true. An SDF colony, Reimos was attacked by Reavers two days after the fleet had jumped to Threshia.

[Ah, we heard Reimos was raided, but we didn't know who. Are any of your trophies fresh?]

Kyra winced. She knew what the phrase meant. _Are you finished with your prisoners? Got any to spare?_

[My sorrow, _Meathook_. We got bored on the jump.]

[Good for you, cousin. Going to raid the machine-men?]

[Of course. Our slave pens are ever hungry.]

The Reaver on the other line laughed. [Well, _Scourge_, it is custom when one enters the Boneyard to take on one of our captives, to entertain you on the passage to your next conquest.]

Kyra froze.

[Of course, _Meathook_. Unfortunately our side airlock was damaged in the attack. We'll blow it open on-planet.]

[No need, _Scourge_. We'll drop'er in through the cargo tubes. No handling required.]

She turned to Zekt, covering the microphone.

"Ready the medbay and prepare to take on wounded."

He nodded grimly and walked off.

[Sounds good, _Meathook_. We are honored by your generosity.]

Kyra set the receiver down, breathing hard. She heard the _thump-clang_ of a cargo hatch setting down on _Deliverance_'s top, and the doors between the ships swished open. A second _clang_ indicated the caged prisoner had been dropped. The Reaver ship's doors closed and _Deliverance_'s doors opened, dropping a young Kytharin onto the cargo nets Zekt had strung up in the hold. Blood matted her lower body, coming mainly from a long cut on her left leg.

The _Meathook_ flew away from them, wagging it's stubby engine wings in a salute. _Deliverance_ exited the debris field, everyone breathing a sigh of relief.

Everyone except the prisoner. As soon as Kyra stepped into the hold, dreading what she might find, the Kytharin began to wail in terror and tried to crawl away. 

"Get away from me! You won't.. you won't do to me what you did to the others! I won't die like them!"

Kyra stopped and knelt down, removing her helmet. 

"Calm down, we're not Reavers." she said. The Kytharin looked in wonder and confusion at the sudden twist.

"You're- you're not." she said slowly.

Kyra pulled the chains off the Kytharin and helped her stand, noting the strong limp she had on one side. 

"You wouldn't believe.." said the Kytharin. She began to weep, crying on Kyra's shoulder.

"Oh, Gods, the things they did, they made me watch.. all of it. Gods."

Kyra sighed and patted her on the back, lowering her into one of the tanks in _Deliverance_'s small medbay. The Kytharin seemed lost for words, but her eyes had an infinite gratitude in them. The tank burbled and filled with healing, oxygenized gel. For a second, the eyes changed to terror as the Kytharin rebelled at the thought of breathing the thick ooze. Kyra tapped the glass and made an exaggerated breathing motion. The Kytharin closed her eyes, and sucked in a breath, opening them once she realized she wasn't dead. She smiled at Kyra, and closed her eyes again, sinking to the base of the tank in a ball as the sedative infused gel gently put her to sleep.

Kyra resolved to have Wes talk to her after she got out of the tanks. He'd been born into a Reaver-populated family, though many of his ancestors were in the Merchant Clans.

_Deliverance_ fell through the upper atmosphere, down through the clouds that blanketed Quet'zal in a haze of metallic dust and smog. Anti-aircraft batteries and ship-missiles targeted them, until a hurried message from Berris to the High Lords calmed the weapons' AI.

Zekt set the ship down expertly on the pad, the spars and vox-stacks welded to the outside catching an automated trolley and tearing it loose.

The ramp dropped and Kyra stepped down, hands at her sides. A dozen of Quet'zal's Steel Guard stomped over, Lashers and Impalers at the ready.

"Kyra of _Deliverance_, here to retrieve a QI-236H Drive Coil for the _Serenity_." she explained.

The leading soldier nodded and a vast trolley crawled from the factory-fortress adjacent to the landing pad, bearing the massive Drive Coil. The cargo ramp to _Deliverance_'s rear opened and the trolley drove up it, barely fitting in the ship's bay.

"That's it then?" asked Kyra.

"You were expected. That's it." said the Steel Guard. He handed her a keycard.

"This will get you through the orbital lanes from now on. Your ship is always welcome on Quet'zal, m'lady, though we'd appreciate it if you were not flying a Reaver ship."

Kyra turned as the thought struck her. Zekt had taken down the bodies from the prow and repulsors, placing them respectfully on a second trolley and covering them with a canvas sheet.

"These soldiers' bodies helped us get through the blockade. They are from Kel'de, Slayers, and should be given a full honor cremation at their homes. They deserve it."

The soldier bowed at the bodies. "Of course." he said.

Kyra shook the Guard's hand, and she and Zekt climbed back aboard, flying back out of Quet'zal's airspace to the orbital lane. It challenged them, but Kyra input the coding on the keycard she'd received, and the guns fell silent.

They were almost to the jump point when the radio chirped again.

[That was a mighty short raid, "_Scourge_".] said a voice.

Kyra keyed the comms.

[You can go frak yourself, animal.]

The voice on the other end stopped, then turned to a low growl.

[Prepare to be boarded.]

A blip appeared on the modar screen. Zekt spun around, facing the weapons con. Six 150mm cannons rotated to face the _Meathook_ hurtling at them. Shots blew huge chunks from the Reaver ship, but it was in too close. Kyra hit the repulsors, suddenly happy for the extra credits she'd paid to install them. They were nearly useless in open space, but for pinpoint maneuvering, heavy repulsor engines were the best possible option. In all, _Deliverance_ was the most overbuilt ship in the fleet, with six translight engines on it's stern, two Mass Relay converters feeding them, and the ten Repulsor disks on it's sides. 

_Meathook_ sped under them, turning at a breakneck speed to come about again. Energy grapples and mag-levs trailed behind it, no doubt hoping to snare _Deliverance_ in it's grip.

Kyra spun the ship around, the cannons still throbbing at the vacuum. A single 150mm slug smashed the permaglass seal on the cockpit, and a dozen Reavers were blown into the void, their blood boiling and freezing all at the same time.

"Mercy killing." she explained, reasoning away any captives still on board.

"Fire rockets." she said to Zekt. He tapped a key, and sixty short-range Archer missiles flew from racks on _Deliverance_'s top side, impacting the _Meathook_ and detonating it into a thousand glittering shards.

"You did good." she said to Zekt. 

"Yeah. I guess I did." he said.

He tapped the Mass Relay switch, and two hours later, Threshia snapped into view again.

Zekt maneuvered _Deliverance_ back into the hangar. Berris and Sal were waiting for them. Zekt and Kyra stepped out, explaining the wounded captive and the drive coil in the cargo bay. 

Berris handed Kyra a case with the credits inside, and moved away with the trolley.

"Well, was it worth it?" asked Sal. 

Kyra thought about the young Kytharin still in the healing tanks, and the destroyed Reaver ship.

"Yeah." she said. "I'd have done it even if they hadn't paid me."

Rek stepped from the shade, looking at _Deliverance_.

"I always knew you'd been raised rough, sweetie, but joining the Reavers seems a bit too rough, even for you."

Kyra smiled and hugged him. "We saved someone, dad. Quet'zal PDF by her tattoos. We killed a Reaver too."

Rek returned the hug. "Good for you. One less pirate ship is always good. I'm glad you're back, _Ky'ika_. If you'd been... captured.. by those animals I'd have led every ship here through the Boneyard."

"Maybe that should be done sooner rather then later." said Kyra. 

"I will bring it up with the Clans. We've still some assets not committed. It might be a good thing to remove the scum before we leave the Segmentum."

Kyra cocked her head.

"Leave the Segmentum?"

Rek nodded. "Oh, yes. We're taking the fight to Ilios after this, right to the SDF's civilians."

Kyra looked at the converted _Deliverance_, already removing the paint and random spars in her mind's eye. She wanted the ship back to it's old self, and forget all about the Reavers.

"I'm ready. When do we get our claws on the ground?" she asked.

Rek gestured at _Deliverance_.

"Whenever you pry that trash off your ship, _Ky'ika_."


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander

Awesome, I love your creation of races and the Kytharin's ingenuity of how to deal with it. Brilliant Dirge, as per usual.


----------



## dark angel

i agree that was great by any chance do you like firefly?


----------



## Dirge Eterna

I was wondering if someone would pick that up. I do like Firefly


----------



## Dirge Eterna

_Dear god a double post_. I just got back from Star Trek, one of the best movies I've seen in a while (though I did have some criticisms about the villains' plot), and decided to update a bit.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kyra shivered, despite the heavy gear.

Threshia was a hellhole. Thick, canopied jungle covered everything, and what didn't have trees growing from it had moss and lichens clinging to it. Water dripped from the upper reaches of the trees.

An Osprey flashed overhead, dropping a fat munition on a concrete fortress six hundred feet away from the staggered patrol of Stormserpents and Slayers. Kyra, Sal, and Zekt were in their midst. Kyra had the bandanna wrapped around her head, the card strapped to her shoulderpad. 

"Maybe two hundred meters?" asked the lead trooper. Dez nodded. 

"Break off and give us covering fire." he said. Two Slayers in light camouflage nodded and set up a fat Thrasher mortar just behind the treeline.

One dropped a shell into the device and it coughed, cartwheeling the heavy HE round directly onto the chain-link fence keeping Threshia's denizens out of the base.

"Let's take em'!" roared Dez. He and the Stormserpents bellowed an incoherent cry and charged. The Slayers and Kyra's crew were more reserved, advancing slower. An SDF trooper stuck his head over the barricade and caught an Impaler bolt in the forehead. Dez's troops surged over the crater left by the Thrasher, putting down a few wounded Guardsmen. Kyra swept right, with Sal and Zekt right behind. A man wielding a machete smashed into her, throwing her back. Sal brought up his rifle and smashed him back. Kyra kicked him, shattering his ribs. The guardsman fell back, blood erupting from his mouth. Kyra shot him and moved on.

The command bunker door was wide open, a young ensign trampled to death in the doorway. The empty shuttle pad adjacent to the building left little to the imagination; the command staff had fled in panic from the advancing Kytharin armada.

Kyra swept the first room, finding no one. The bunker was built in a T shape, the entryway longer then the two rooms to hold off attackers. Sal stepped up to the intersection and ducked as lasfire blistered the air.

"Hello!" he said, surprised. Zekt handed him a LDF charge. A Laser Dissipating Fog grenade was useful against energy weapons. It caused the concentrated beams to break apart, reducing a killing shot to a hard slap. They were useful, but they were expensive. Sal pressed the primer button and hurled the charge around the corner.

A yelp sounded as the charge went off, and the bunker was flooded with white fog. Kyra whipped around the corner, six weakened lasbolts smacking into her armor and making her step back. She raised the Impaler and shot three of the men. Upon realizing their weapons were worthless, the three remaining troopers ducked down, making room for a hulking SDF stormtrooper with two sloshing tanks on his back. A roaring sheet of fire surged down the hall. Kyra dove to the side. Zekt leaned out and took a glancing hit, the burning chemicals melting one shoulder of his armor and blistering the paint. He yelped in pain and fired the Lasher down the hall. 

The hail of shurikan cut the flamer trooper nearly in half, and detonated the promethium in his tanks. The other soldiers wailed, turned to burning torches by the fire. 

Sal swept the command room, brushing aside the scorched bodies. 

"Nothing here." he said. "But their comms gear is working. They wrecked everything else."

Kyra shrugged and flipped on the comms.

[-is Admiral Maxim Volk. To preserve all Imperial lives, we are retreating beyond the Maginot Sphere. To all those who cannot make it, the SDF honors your sacrifice.]

"Retreat." repeated Zekt. He cradled his wounded arm.

"They know we've got the outer colonies locked down." 

[Though do not be saddened. For even now our enemies will be stricken down. Even now, we rise again from the ruins. And they shall know fear.]

"Excuse me?" asked Sal. 

A Slayer ran into the bunker, looking panicked.

"You're the pirate, right?" he asked.

"That's me." said Kyra. 

"Distress call coming in from the fleet. They say Kelorum's taken the Aay'han guard and betrayed the Coven."

Kyra turned. "What!?"

"It's on the high beam. _Serenity_'s fleet is engaging Kelorum's in low orbit."

Kyra flipped channels.

[KSV _Serenity_ calling all Kytharin loyalists. Ambassador Kelorum has betrayed our crusade to the SDF. He fights with the apparent support of Aay'han's ruling bodies, though the warrior clans do not fight with him at the moment. Open war has broken out on their homeworld. Though their fleet is dust and ash above Threshia, they have weakened our own vessels, and Kelorum himself fled in a shuttlecraft just before his flagship was destroyed. To all Kytharin still on this feed, we have a traitor.]

A vast shout rose from outside. "Traitor! Traitor!"

Kyra exited the bunker and looked as burning ships rained from the sky, each bearing the crest of Aay'han's ruling caste. There were none of the warrior clans' ships that she could see, and she thanked the gods. Fighting a ground war against the Stormserpents was something she wanted to avoid.

Dez stalked out of the barracks and stared at the sky as well, his helmet off. The Stormserpents formed up around him, silently.

He turned to Kyra. "There is no honor in betrayal." he said with a growl.

She nodded, and they watched the traitor's fleet burn.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
_Six Hours Later_

"What are we going to do about the traitor?" asked Rek. The delegates on _Serenity_ looked around.

"Hang him by his entrails." suggested one.

"We must restore order to Aay'han before we move onto Ilios." said another. "We cannot risk a two-front war."

Rek sighed. "What we need to do."

"We cannot send a fleet after the traitor and a fleet to Aay'han." responded a senator. "We lack the ships."

Kyra stood up. "I will go."

The delegates stopped. Rek closed his eyes.

"You what?" asked one.

"I will find Kelorum. And I will kill him." said Kyra.

"What is your name?"

"Kyra, of _Deliverance_."

"Rek. This is your daughter?" asked the Slayers' leader. He was a wiry Kytharin, perhaps a year older then Rek.

"She is." said Rek, part pride and part trepidation.

"If only my children were half as noble, my old friend." said the Kytharin. Rek swelled a bit with paternal pride.

The Slayer turned to Kyra. "What do you need?"

"Food, water, weapons, ammo." she said. "I'll take myself, Sal, Zekt, and one other."

"That other being..?"

"I already have her on-board my ship. I do not know her name."

"Ah, the captive from the Boneyard?"

"Yes."

The Slayer looked around the council chamber. Dez sat in, representing Aay'han's loyalists.

"Does any being here raise an objection?" said the Slayer. No one responded. The Clan Guard in the center of the room, representing Kytharia itself, tapped a staff to the floor and nodded at Kyra.

"Then go, Kyra of _Deliverance_. Find this traitor and administer justice."

Kyra nodded. "Do we have any leads?"

"Our sources say Vesperia, judging by his Mass Relay trail. The fleet will go to Aay'han, to assist the warrior clans' overthrowing the ruling castes."

Kyra bowed slightly and left the chamber.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Zekt sat on _Deliverance_'s nose, polishing off the last of the blue paint with a buffer. He leaned down and applied the finishing touches to the script on the nose. DELIVERANCE was painted in thick black script, overlapping a golden Aquila eagle with a white sword driven through it.

"Looks nice." said the Kytharin they'd rescued. She still limped a little, and was twitchy, but overall Zekt was impressed by her recovery.

"Do you have a name?" he asked offhanded, as he swung down off the ship.

"I do." responded the Kytharin. She held out a hand. "I'm Izi."

"Izi. Nice to meet you." said Zekt. "I'm Zekt. And this," he patted _Deliverance_'s side. "Is my baby."

Izi smiled. "And what do you do exactly?"

Zekt shrugged. "Whatever. We used to be pirates, then freelancers, and now I guess we're soldiers. I fly, and sometimes I fight."

"I was a medical officer on a mining vessel before I was captured." said Izi. "What do I do now?"

Sal stepped down the ramp, multicolored wires wrapped around him from repair work. "You can hang with us if you want. Or we'll take you back to wherever your planet is."

"I would like to stay, at least for a time. In my experience, soldiers needs medics."

Kyra stepped from the elevator to the upper decks. 

"You're awake. Good." she said. Izi nodded.

"Do you know how to use one of these?" Kyra handed her an Impaler pistol on a belt.

"I- I passed field marksmanship, like all the others." said Izi.

"Good. We get to hunt down a traitor. You have a name?"

"Izi, of Quet'zal, though my comrades used to call me "Doc."

"Ah. Good."

They stepped back up the ramp, and Kyra closed it behind them. Sal and Zekt took their customary places at the bridge. Izi looked around with some confusion.

"You can sit at navi if you want." said Kyra. "Not much to do, the AI handles course calculations."

Izi nodded, and gripped the armrests as Zekt piloted _Deliverance_ out of the hangars yet again. 

"Buckle up." said Kyra. "Let's go get him."

_Deliverance_ flashed into nothing as the Mass Relay drives engaged.


----------



## Dirge Eterna

W00t! 500 views!
----------------------------------------

_Deliverance_ flashed in-system in a blaze of light, floating by the outer reaches of Vesperia's asteroid belt. A single orbital defense platform went dark and let them pass rather then attempt to engage the larger, more heavily armed ship.

[Vesperia TC, copy on location, over.] said Zekt into the vox. The machine crackled.

[Roger, copy clear inbound.]

[Kytharin freighter _Deliverance_ request to refuel and take on supplies.]

[Roger that, inbound. Proceed to bay seven west, Arbora Spaceport.]

[Copy clear, TC. _Deliverance_ out.]

The ship's drives thrummed steadily as Zekt feathered the vessel over the treetops. Vesperia was over ninety percent forest, mostly tame oak and maple descendants from Terra. Ancient, pre-Imperium ruins dotted the trees, made from pale marble and bluish glass. Fields surrounded Arbora, basically an overgrown farming village that numbered just under one million residents. Laborers shielded their eyes and children waved and chased the vessel's shadow as _Deliverance_ hurtled past, coming around to settle on an open landing pad to the northwest of the city.

The ramp clanged down and Kyra stepped out, Sal and Izi in tow. 

"I'll stick around." said Zekt. "Don't want any of these mouth-breathers prying anything off the hull."

"Your attitude must be so becoming to the locals." retorted Kyra. Zekt sniffed and closed the ramp.

Izi looked around. Sal had given her a set of grey Flight armor similar to Kyra's, except with white shoulder and knee pads. An Impaler pistol was strapped to her waist.

"What do we do now?" she asked. Kyra sucked her teeth, thinking.

"First thing I always do on a planet." she said. Izi blinked slowly.

"Go to the pub." said Kyra.

--------------------------------------------

The three pushed past the doorway, avoiding the startled Hrud guarding the door.

"Well?" asked Sal. Kyra breathed in, trying to avoid the smell of the food.

"Look around for anyone with Kytharin stuff." she said. "Kelorum's not a living-off-the-land type. He'll have _minions_."

Izi looked at her. "Where are you going?"

Kyra smiled. "For a drink."

The bartender looked at her with his one good eye, the other hidden behind an opaque black eyepatch. 

"What'll it be?" he asked. Kyra looked at him as he spat into a glass and began to clean it with his apron.

"Glass of milk." she said. "Preferably not that one."

The bartender sniffed. "We ain't got no milk. Tell you what. I'll mix you an Astartes. You don't like it, you.. well, you still pay."

Kyra shrugged and accepted the glass of greenish alcohol he handed her.

Sal and Izi walked around the pub, looking.

A man, perhaps twenty-one years old, got up from his seat alone across the bar, moving towards Kyra. She sniffed at the air, catching a whiff of a dozen types of combat drugs, stale sweat, and hatred.

When he was six feet away, Kyra swung around and kicked him back, knocking him over onto another patron's table. The man showed his displeasure by breaking a bottle over the young man's head. The berserker whipped around and wrapped a burly hand around the man's neck, blood and alcohol mingling on his face. The young man expired and the attacker tossed him into Sal, throwing him back. The man launched himself at Kyra, teeth bared and voice raised in a shriek. She yelped and ducked, sending him crashing over the bar. Almost instantly he jumped back over, pinning her to the ground.

"Xenos." he said. He closed a fist around Kyra's neck, ignoring the blades growing from her back that sliced into his hand.

"Look at you." he said. "Can't even fight back."

Her vision began to grey out. She felt something hard and metallic in her grip, and chuckled breathlessly. 

"What's that?" he asked. Kyra murmured something. He leaned closer.

"I got your gun." whispered Kyra. He looked down, and the modified bolt pistol blew a fist-sized hole through him. He collapsed. 

Kyra stood up, taking ragged breaths. Sal shoved the dead patron off himself and helped up Izi.

"Sorry about the mess." said Kyra. She slid a credit across the bar at the bartender, looking ruffled from the fight.

Sal went through the man's pockets, coming up with a handful of cards, a few credits, and a single handwritten note.

"ThEy'LL Be THerE. KiLL THem. -K"

"Nice place." said Sal. "Gotta love the locals."

"K, Kelorum?" asked Izi.

"Ah. Perception." said Kyra with a hint of sarcasm. "I bet he's still in town. Might want to ask around. Find someplace to stay."

She turned to the bartender.

"What's the shadiest place we can spend the night without getting killed or attacked or something?"

"Uh, Moriarty's is a kind of rough place."

Kyra nodded. 

------------------------------------

Thirty minutes later the trio found the door guarded by a skinny man in a deep blue trenchcoat. 

"We're closed." said the man.

"And I'm Kyra." said Kyra. "Can we see the specials?"

"We're _closed_."

Sal stepped on the man's toes, making him wince in pain as two hundred and eighty pounds of Kytharin and armor broke three of them.

"I do believe you're open."

He shoved the man aside and they walked into the building.

Moriarty was sitting at the empty bar with dark rings under his eyes, nursing a fat bottle of some local alcohol. 

"Well, lizards." he said. "Don't get your kind out here often. Must be business."

Kyra took the bottle from him, taking a long sip and handing it back. "Strictly business, pinky. Need a place to stay. Somewhere without much attention."

Izi smiled. "And a good view. Natural lighting."

Moriarty's mouth opened and closed with dumb confusion before he registered "stay" and looked at Kyra.

"Look at this place." he said. "Nobody. I've got a floor of rooms upstairs."

Sal walked to the stairs to check the rooms, and wandered off towards the kitchen.

"You and I talk prices then, scalie?" asked Moriarty. Kyra nodded.

"I want sixty credits a night." said Moriarty.

"Rooms better be made of gold and come with hot and cold narcs to be worth that."

"Narcs, no. Boys and girls, yes. I run a little side business. Let you in. You do have a-"

"Yes. I think I get it. Don't need your side bullshit. Just the rooms. And no interruptions."

"What will you be storing?"

Kyra feigned shock. "Me? Goodness. I'm just a tourist."

"You people are never tourists." Moriarty took a swig of the bottle. "Don't frak with me. You're smugglers, pirates, or Reavers. Or a combination thereof."

Kyra counted off on her fingers. "If I was a smuggler, I'd stay on my ship. If I was a pirate, you'd have a gun in your face, and if I was a Reaver, well, I'd rather not elaborate."

"Yeah, sure." said Moriarty. He turned the bottle, attempting to comprehend the lack of alcohol left in it.

Sal walked back down the stairs and nodded at Kyra.

"Whole floor at the top, plus rooftop access for those long walks at night."

A scream sounded from the kitchen and a fat cook raced out. Izi stepped out after him and holstered the pistol. Kyra smiled in faint amusement. Sal snorted.

"It's good." she said. "Just don't eat anything that's still moving." 

"I cook my food." said Moriarty. 

"Well, if it's alive, it's not going anywhere quickly. Alright. Ten creds a night, and I'll ensure your _lovely_ establishment is still in one piece when we leave."

"I'll lose business!"

"A bit of customer focus is a good thing. We'll move in our gear tonight. Have the rooms ready. Beds made up and such."

Moriarty grumbled. "Not that you'll actually be using them."

"Actually," said Sal. 

Kyra cut him off. "Just do it."

Izi looked from Kyra to Sal, and he nodded slightly. Izi's hand went to her mouth with some combination of surprise and amusement.

-------------------------------------------

Zekt met them at the base of the ship's ramp, cradling a Lasher shotgun.

"Got all your stuff, kids?" he asked. Kyra nodded.

"Alright. Now don't drink the water, don't talk to strangers, and always use the buddy system." said Zekt.

"I don't want you sitting around frakking yourself until we get back." said Kyra. "The aft turrets lost targeting from the jump on Threshia."

Zekt shrugged. "I'll get it done, mom."

Kyra smiled. "I'm sure. Alright. Let's go get a traitor."


----------



## Dirge Eterna

_Two days later, Arbora market district_

Kyra yawned. She rolled on her side, scratching a spot on her stomach. She was laying under a sheet of plas on a rooftop, a Prosecutor heavy sniper poking out. The fat optics glistened in the light.

A thin man in a grey coat walked across the square. Kyra keyed her mic.

"Got him. He's with Kelorum?"

Sal's voice answered. "Yeah. Ignis Der Vosgalt. Responsible for most of the arms trading and smuggling to the SDF from our space."

"When did you get this intel?"

"Just after you left. Good thing you brought the rifle."

Kyra smiled and cocked the vast weapon. "I never leave home without my baby."

Der Vosgalt smacked his lips, and a second man approached. They shook hands, and the man handed the merchant a wad of what looked like tan clay. Kyra bit her lip.

"Looks like an explosives deal." she said. "Got a confirm on detonite. I can't tell the grade."

Sal sighed. "Great. Probably for terrorism or insurgency once the warfleets roll up Ilios.

"Are they that far into the SDF?"

"Oh yeah. This guy's big in the circles."

Kyra lined up the rifle. "Should I take him out? I've got a perfect shot here."

"No. Let him go, but try and capture the other guy."

She sighed and picked up the rifle, throwing off the plas and inserting a clip into the Impaler on her back. The sniper replaced it on the sling and Kyra walked down the steps to street level, watching as Der Vosgalt and the man parted with nods.

She followed the man down the streets, ignoring the clamoring of merchants and buyers.

Kyra turned down an alley, and the man whipped around. 

"You." he said.

"Me?" she asked, confused.

The man's hood flapped slightly in a weak breeze, and Kyra's eyes widened.

"Hello, scalie." said Lars. 

His hand came up, and blackness fell.
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Sal picked Kyra up.

"You alright?" he asked.

"I think so." she replied. "Bastard."

"What?"

"It was Lars."

Sal narrowed his eyes. "_Tar'kal_. Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." 

He growled slightly. Izi stood behind him with a Lasher, keeping guard.

The trio left the market district, pondering the events. Back at Moriarty's, Sal looked over a map of Arbora, marking off houses and buildings.

"We've only got two quarters of the place left. The red light districts around the southwest or the merchants' quarter in the north."

Kyra rubbed her chest. Lars had been wearing electric cestii, a device used to make punches stun or knock out, or even kill a man with a weak heart.

"I can't see them setting up in a brothel somewhere. You said it yourself. Kelorum's used to having lackeys. Go for the merchants' district. What do we have there?"

Sal rubbed his eyes and marked off two buildings in the quarter.

"Der Vosgalt's villa, and an abandoned warehouse just south of it. He owns the land, but apparently the local praetors' office didn't even know the warehouse existed."

Kyra nodded. "Nice."

Izi blinked. "That sounds a little conspicuous."

"He's a traitor, not a strategist, and until today he didn't know the Council knew where he was."

Sal circled the building. 

"He knows now though." he said. "He's gonna run."

"No ships out here right now."

Izi nodded.

"None except for yours." she said.

Kyra and Sal stopped, looked at each other, then grabbed Izi and broke into a run towards the landing pads.

A local praetor stopped them at the gates. A dozen Arbites stood around the doors.

"Can't go any farther. There's armed fugitives loose in the yard." he said.

"That's my ship, asshole. Get out of the way." said Kyra. She shoved the man out of the way. The young judge holding the keys took once look at the trio and opened the gate with almost indecent haste.

_Deliverance_ sat on it's dampers, the drop ramp open. A digital scrambler was set against the lock. A dozen bodies littered the pavement in various pieces, and one of the 150mm cannons was torn loose from the ship.

Kyra stomped onto the ship, trying to move quickly, but quietly. A man with his back turned faced into the ship. Sal wrapped an arm around his neck and yanked him into the shadows.

"How many of you are there?" hissed Sal. The man growled. Sal smashed the man's head off the bulkhead.

"Twenty." said the man. Sal hit him again. He gasped.

"Thirty-seven."

Kyra looked around the corner, then returned to the man.

"Where's Zekt?"

"That other lizard? Dead."

Sal rolled his eyes. He took a combat knife from his belt and drew it across the man's shoulder, lighting up the nerves. He writhed.

"He's in holding!"

Kyra nodded. "Nice."

She leaned down and snapped the man's neck. Sal rolled the body down the ramp.

The ramp closed with a _hiss_, and _Deliverance_ lurched and took off.

"Not good." said Kyra. She broke into a run towards the stern of the ship.

A man in heavy coveralls was monitoring the reactor, looking at the humming GeoSync coils with undisguised jealousy. Kyra watch him reach for the control panel.

"What the frak are you doing?" she said. The man jumped and spun around.

"Nothing!" he said. His hands flew up, and Sal shot him dead.

Izi leaned into the main hallway and ducked back as a sheet of lasfire passed through it.

"They know we're here." she said. Kyra cursed.

"You got a LDF?" she asked Sal.

"I got one." he said.

Kyra leaned out from cover and tossed it down the hall. The trio jumped from the side and ran at the startled SDF soldiers and mercenaries, firing. A man came apart as Izi's Lasher caught him in the midsection. A dozen Impaler bolts passed through bodies. Kyra didn't even slow down as the first man rose up, tears from the LDF gas running down his face. She jumped, crashing down on his shoulders and crushing him.

The cabins were almost as they left them. Zekt's door was closed, and Kyra's was wide open.

"Check the room." she said to Sal. He nodded and opened the door, pulling out a bound and gagged Zekt. Sal and Izi worked to untie him as Kyra looked into her own room. The box previously hidden under the bunk was laying on top of it, a dozen fresh dent showing where people had tried to smash it open.

"Is nothing sacred?" she asked. 

"I'm afraid not." came a voice. She turned, and Lars was standing in the doorway, the sound of gunfire telling her Izi, Zekt, and Sal had engaged the rest of the SDF.

Lars lunged with the electric cestii again, but this time Kyra was ready. She ducked low and hit him, throwing him over her shoulder. He smashed into an open weapons locker, Impaler clips and spiker grenades falling across the floor. He gripped a grenade with an evil grin, and as he pressed the activation rune, the weapon blipped. He hurled it, and Kyra ducked, letting it pass into the hall. A dozen screams told her the SDF soldiers had gotten the full brunt of it. Lars twisted and kicked her legs out from under her, and he knelt down, straddling her chest. He drew back the cestii, the electricity crackling with menace.

"Bet you're sorry you stiffed me." said Lars.

"Bet you're sorry your such an idiot." said Kyra. Her fingers found the box, laying on the floor where she'd dropped it. She grabbed the metal handle and smashed it against Lars' face, making his nose break with an explosive _snap_ of bone.

He bellowed in pain and backed up, towards the door. A bolt pistol appeared in his hand.

"Frakking lizards." he said. The pistol came up.

A knife appeared in his chest, point towards Kyra. He stared at it for a moment, gasping dumbly, and then he fell. Blood pooled around his body, and Izi stood in the doorway, a look of part shock, part amazement on her face. Her right hand was outstretched, a gauntlet-mounted knife extended out.

"Wha?" asked Kyra. She dropped the box, one corner with a blood stain splashed across it.

Sal leaned into the room. "I gave her a gauntlet knife before we left Threshia."

"Why?" 

Sal snickered. "All you gave her was a pistol."

Izi nodded and retracted the knife with a quiet _snick_. "He's right."

Kyra shook her head. "No, I mean why didn't I get one?"

"I can show you the guy who makes them when we get back home." said Sal with a laugh.

Zekt knocked on the door. 

"Got one lifesign on the bridge. Guess who."

Kyra nodded grimly and picked up Lars' dropped pistol. 

Kelorum sat on the bridge of _Deliverance_, not making any attempt to resist. He sat in the navigational console chair, hands steepled in front of him.

"What the hell?" asked Sal.

"I _surrender_." said Kelorum. "Now give me a room and food, and take me back to Kytharia for trial."

Kyra shook her head. "Not this time. This time you're going to die. _After_ you clean my ship."

Kelorum's face paled. He spent the next two hours in orbit picking up the bodies of his guards, depositing them in the airlock before Sal vented them into space. As he placed the last body into the lock, He turned to face Kyra. 

"Get out." she said.

"But-" said Kelorum. "I _surrendered_."

Kyra thought about it. 

"Fair enough. You're a prisoner of war. An SDF prisoner of war."

Kelorum nodded. "And I deserve to be treated like one."

Sal looked at Kyra. She raised the bolt pistol and shot Kelorum in the head, blowing his brains over the armored airlock door. She pulled the crest from his robes before Sal blew his body into space with all the others.

Izi blinked. "Is that how we treat prisoners?"

Kyra growled. "Only the SDF ones. Why give mercy when you get none?"

Sal nodded grimly, and Zekt hit the Mass Relay engines.


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander

haha ruthless. I love it! and there's so much more to come too!!!


----------



## Dirge Eterna

It's true. 
-----------------------------------------------------------

Kyra flinched and sat bolt upright. Sal groaned and shifted beside her. She rapped on his head with the bones of her knuckles.

"What?" he mumbled. He grabbed the pillow and tried to cover his head.

"Your _ori'shal_ metal arm, _mir'osik_. I've met Astartes with more warmth."

He yawned and stretched, examining the limb. 

"Whatever." he remarked. He turned over and fell asleep again almost instantly.

Kyra sighed, then smiled. She got up, pulling the pants of her flight armor and a loose tank top, yawning as she walked out of the room. The bright lights of the hall made her wince, and she stepped onto the bridge, Zekt also asleep in the command chair. 

"Hey. Flying, not sleeping." she said.

Zekt snapped awake and grasped at the controls. 

"M'awake." he mumbled.

"Sure you are." said Kyra. 

He smacked his lips and flipped the autopilot off, looking at the Mass Relay screens.

"We've got one and a half _ori'shal_ hours until we get back to fleet." he said. "What's the point?"

Kyra sat down next to him at the weapons console.

"Gotta keep you on your toes." she said. "An Astartes could teleport onto this bridge as soon as we drop, and you're sleeping. Disgraceful."

Zekt laughed at the sarcasm. "So you wanted someone to talk to?"

"Yeah."

"At least you're honest. How was your tumble?"

"Not about that."

Zekt rolled his eyes. "What else is there to talk about? You know your father's going to go spare when he figures it out."

"My father is an old Kytharin, and has been hit on the head many times. What does he know about it?"

Zekt shrugged. "Whatever. I got the targeters on the aft turrets up again."

Kyra nodded, looking up the weapons on the console. "I see. How's Izi?"

"I think she's passed out right now, like _I should be_. You know, before I was rudely awakened."

A stiff _thud_ echoed around the ship, and suddenly Zekt looked at the consoles.

"Aw, shit. We hit a Relay shift. Hang on, we're jumping _now_."

Relay Shifts were an inevitable part of Mass Relay travel. In certain areas when a ship jumped, a "ripple" of space was created around the entrance. Any other ships jumping across it could be propelled faster, or slowed, by the force.

_Deliverance_ shook, rattled, and dropped out of Relay space, cruising at a low burn.

"Nice flying. See? That's why I keep you awake." said Kyra. She patted him on the shoulder and walked back to the holotable, turning the device on.

A dozen Kytharin cruisers were positioned above Ilios, thousands of smaller craft flitting around them, from tiny shuttles and landers to resupply tankers and agricultural ships. The massive bulk of _Serenity_ dwarfed everything, the Dreadnought easily three times the size of a Cruiser or even an Imperial _Retribution_ class.

"Ah, home sweet ship." said Kyra. 

"You're a spacer, right?" asked Zekt.

Kyra nodded. A "spacer" was a Kytharin term for someone who had been born on board a ship or station. 

"Must be right at home, then. Riding Relay currents and fighting ship-to-ship."

Kyra smirked. "Are you saying you _don't like_ certain death?"

"Just fond of the more _planet-based_ things in life."

"A pilot who hates spaceflights."

Zekt shrugged, the motion making _Deliverance_ tilt upwards before he corrected it.

"I don't hate them. Just... I like atmospheric better."

Sal leaned onto the bridge, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Wha's going on?" he said. Kyra winked at him from the holotable.

"_Mir'osik_ over there ran over a speed bump."

Zekt coughed slightly.

[_Deliverance, bay seven-B cleared on port side. Copy?]

[Copy clear, Serenity TC. Hoping to direct to Gocel MSB, over.]

[Uh, approved, Deliverance. Pad four.]

[Received and executing, Serenity.]

Zekt nosed the ship through the atmosphere, the viewscreen glowing cherry red. They passed through the cloud layer, and the mass of vegetation that was Ilios became visible. Flashes and detonations appeared on the horizon, where Kytharin heavy artillery pounded SDF strongpoints, and vice versa. 

Gocel MSB was a fancy name for a circle of sixteen prefab bunkers, barracks, and command centers. Six landing pads were on one side. Zekt set Deliverance down on pad four, making the ship shudder slightly.

The ramp dropped, landing in the muddy soil a calculated inch from Rek's foot.

"My child." said Rek. 

Kyra smiled, and tossed the crest she'd torn from Kelorum's robes to the ground before him. He stooped to pick it up, and upon examining it, smiled.

The pair embraced as Zekt, Sal, and Izi clattered down the ramp, laden with equipment and weapons.

"Suc'coy, veer." said Kyra. Hello, father.

Rek cocked his head. "Why the formality?"

"I had to kill Lars, father. He was fighting for the SDF on Vesperia."

"It happens, Ky'ika. How many Kytha'yaim have you had to kill, simply for being mercenaries or Reavers? In self defense?"

Kyra blinked. "Nineteen, not counting the crew on the Reaver ship we destroyed."

Rek wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading Kyra to the barracks.

"Our people are passionate and warlike, Ky'ika. We end up killing each other for all sorts of reasons. Personal or impersonal. Don't feel bad if it was his life or yours."

"It was, veer. Thank you."

Rek smiled. "Don't, daughter."

Kyra tied the Slayers' bandanna around her brow.

"When can we get into the action?"

Rek smiled and handed her a backpack.

"As soon as you feel like it, Ky'ika. I had the frontline commander informed you'd likely be storming in on him."_


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## Ordo Xeno Commander

loving it, more action on the way!


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## waltzmelancholy_07

Dirge!... Men I am so hooked! If it really makes you feel better... Here's another rep!... Hahaha... You're amazing men...


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## waltzmelancholy_07

Dirge... Sorry... Can't give you the rep that I talked about in my last post... cause the site won't let me:ireful2:... don't know why?... But still... Hell of a fluff:grin::victory:...


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## Micklez

I love your work mate +Rep


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## Micklez

or not, damn spreading rules


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## Dirge Eterna

Oh, dear. That's twice in a row now. 
------------------------------------------

Kyra sighed.

"Alright, fine." said Sal. He sucked his teeth, building up courage, and smiled.

"You know the money from the Gauntlets?" he asked.

Kyra nodded.

"Well, I bought some favors." he said. "And they've paid off."

A Kytharin Forgemaster stood in _Serenity_'s arms locker, a vast room the size of a scrumball pitch, weapons and armor hanging everywhere, from standard Impaler rifles to Imperial Bolters to Shurikan catapults.

Sal's smile broadened. "So anyways, this is Forgemaster Hesk. He's got some new toys for us."

The Forgemaster licked his lips and opened the massive crate next to him, exposing what looked like a bulky suit of flight armor, but more smooth-edged and somehow more menacing. A snarling helmet had twin red-tinted slits of a visor, and two fangs of armor descended from it's jaw. The shoulderpads were slim and a single piece of curved metal, rather then the overlapping plates of Kytharin powered armor. The entire suit was a forge-fresh shade of grey, the color of the lapping powder used in it's construction. A black undersuit was laying beside each suit.

"Well?" asked Sal.

"What is it?" asked Kyra, apprehensively.

"Mark XVII "Lancer" armor." said the Forgemaster proudly. "It's brand new. These are the first four production models.

"We're going to test it in exchange for the suits." said Sal.

"Test it." repeated Kyra. She leaned in and picked one of the helmets, placing it's armored brow against her own.

"It's nice." she said. "Can we try it out?"

The Forgemaster nodded, and they both stripped down, pulling on the black microfiber undersuits. The garment seemed to suck in, totally skintight. Kyra pulled on the heavily reinforced boots, followed by the greaves and thigh plates. A thick-plated, but flexible, breastplate went next, Kyra finding to her satisfaction there was indeed a female version of the armor. Then came the gauntlets, attached to thick plates around her upper arms. The shoulderpads clamped down, and finally the helmet. The armor was stuffy, and the visor was blank.

"Alright. I'm going to power it up." said the Forgemaster. 

Something _clicked_ in the suit's backpack, and Kyra was blinded by a white light as the visor flicked on. The suit loosened, and suddenly she could breathe again as the respirators built into the helmet flipped on.

"Alright?" asked the priest. Kyra nodded, the motion exaggerated by the armor. She stood almost two feet taller, just a head under the vaunted Astartes. Sal's armor activated, and immediately a waypoint flicked on in her HUD, showing his position relative to hers. 

"Wow." said Sal. He moved his fingers, flexing the armor ever so slightly.

"It's at full power. You can move now." said Hesk. "I've set up an obstacle course to test the armor's effectiveness. You'll then be airlifted down to the surface. A final strongpoint remains, and then we move on to a dry dock known as Port Royal, it's the last fight before we enter the Maginot Sphere.

"How far is this war going to go?" asked Sal. "Are we going to take the fight into the Sphere? Haven't we lost enough already?"

"We will not enter the Sphere. However, we are going to spread havoc throughout the systems bordering our new domains."

Kyra nodded. "You said the obstacle course, then?"

"Yes. Now then, your armor is equipped with mono-molecular autoarmature fibers that should carry most of the armor's weight, as well as your own. Be careful with your reflexes as well, it's boosted too. It has a full autosenses suite, and advanced HUD IR and nightscope settings. The prototype was clocked at bursts of up to forty klicks per hour, and lifting roughly three times it's weight."

Kyra smiled beneath the helmet.

Hesk led the pair to a blank-faced wall, LIVE FIRE- WARNING stenciled above it.

He clicked a button, and the klaxons began to wail.

[All crew to stations, all troops prepare to deploy planetside. Repeat, SDF presence in-system confirmed.]

"Oh, frak." said Kyra. Hesk looked at them, weighing the odds.

"Deploy with the army." he said. 

Kyra nodded, and she and Sal sprinted for the bulky shape of _Deliverance_.

--------------------------------------

The ship set down in a muddy marsh, the harsh echoes and flashes of the suborbital fighting going on overhead. As Kyra and Sal marched from the ship, an SDF gunboat flashed into fire and punched through the clouds, shards of metal and hull plating peeling off to form contrails.

Zekt and Izi elected to stay with the ship, in case an SDF patrol had seen them land. It was a long shot, the jungle being too thick, but it never paid to be less then cautious.

Kyra stomped through the marsh, marvelling at the armor's responses. It was less like moving armor, and more like a second skin. An Impaler rifle was held in one gauntlet, the barrel pointing idly at the treetops overhead. 

"Got trade." said Sal. "Supply convoy coming through here in about twenty minutes."

Kyra nodded, and the pair stepped from the sucking marsh, choosing a small vantage off the main road. Sal tossed a Thrasher AP mine onto the road.

Twenty-six minutes later, a rumble filled the air, and a Leman Russ battle tank turned the corner, it's engine roaring as it propelled the tank. A second tank, this one with twin autocannon in a turret, was at the rear of the column. Three heavy Cargo-10's drove between the vehicles.

Sal shifted slightly. They both lay prone at the edge of a short defile leading down to the road. He held a Retributor RPG in each hand. The disposable rocket launchers were portable and stupidly easy to use. They were a favorite of Kytharin pirates and raiders.

The Russ' turret swiveled slowly, tracking the road ahead, and suddenly it hit the mine. The tank detonated with a roar, tossing it's turret dozens of feet into the air before it came down hard on the hood of the Cargo-10 following, crushing the cab into a ruin. The second Cargo-10 tried desperately to evade, and smashed into the defile, sticking. Sal rose to a crouch and fired the Retributor into the back of the third truck, which proved to be carrying fuel. It went up like a box of fireworks, and the last Russ, the Exterminator, roared forward. The twin armaments fired, chewing a line of holes in the dirt before a half-dozen spanked off the heavy armor Kyra and Sal wore. Sal dove to the side, Kyra towards the tank, and he fired the last Retributor. The rocket smacked into the tank's turret, and blew off the autocannons. It tried to reverse and bring the sponsons around, but Kyra leapt onto the tank with a single bound, and hooked her fingers under the hatch. Two grenades hung by the pins around her other hand's fingers.

"-hear something?" she heard mutely, from the inside of the tank. She pried the hatch open, the tortured metal squealing in protest as the Kytharin armor's brute strength broke the locking bolt. Both grenades went down the hatch, and the crew panicked. 

Kyra rolled off the tank, behind one of the wrecked Cargo-10s, just as the bombs detonated, throwing chunks of the tank- and likely the crew- dozens of feet around the small clearing.

Sal stood up, two smoldering craters in his shoulderpad where it had stopped autocannon rounds.

"Gotta love the techies." he said. Kyra nodded. 

An SDF trooper coughed blood and crawled from the wreckage of the Cargo-10 Kyra was sheltered by. She kicked him in the chest, making more blood erupt from his mouth.

"K-k-kill.. y-you all." he gargled. 

"You can try." said Kyra. She ejected the gauntlet-mounted combat blade from it's housing, and stabbed him in the throat, silencing him except for a quiet hiss as he breathed out for the last time. 

A crackled filled their helmet radios.

[-is _Serenity_ TC, SDF has been beaten back, but we are beginning bombardment _now_. All outlying patrols and scouts return to the MSBs. All regiments report to dropships. Pull out, repeat, pull out. Impact in ten. TC out.]

Kyra looked at Sal, who nodded. As they watched, burning contrails began to etch themselves across the darkening sky. Kyra shrugged the kicked-up mud from her shoulderpads, and walked back to _Deliverance_ with Sal.


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## Ordo Xeno Commander

Wicked, new armour! Yet again, Kytharin kick ass. Keep it up dirge, its brilliant.


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## dark angel

another great instalment Dirge cant wait for more


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## Dirge Eterna

Thanks guys!
-----------------------------------------------------

Kyra stepped through the wreckage of Strongpoint 227-Z, the last of the Imperial bastions to fall under the siege and bombardment by Kytharin forces.

"Where to next?" she asked the trooper next to her. He wore the colors of a Slayer, and a long fur-trimmed coat to show his rank.

"Hill 67." he said. "That's the last fight on this world, I'm afraid. Are you in?"

Kyra nodded slowly, the bulky armor clicking and whirring as it moved.

"Great. We could use the support." he said.

Sal walked up next to them, his own armor scorched by a Heavy Flamer impact.

"Are you really that short-staffed?" he asked. The Slayer sucked his teeth.

"No," he said. "But between the platoons we've only got six anti-tank weapons. I'd like some more to take on 67."

Kyra nodded. "Alright."

-----------------------------------------------

Thirty minutes later, two assembled Kytharin brigades of Slayers and Stormserpents stood to the south of Hill 67. The north and east approaches were blocked by a river, making the point one of the most defendable locations in the region.

Kyra tapped her comm bead.

[Zekt, wake up.] she said.

[I'm awake. What do you want?]

[We might need some gunnery support. How's your aim?]

[Good enough.]

[Then bring the rain. Away team out.]

The leading Slayer licked his lips, and blew a single note on a bronze warhorn he carried on a loop. The Kytharin surged forwards.

A blitz of lasgun and bolter fire smashed into the front lines. Kytharin fell, bleeding, their comrades automatically parting as not to trample them. Halfway up the hill the front ranks of Stormserpents fired grenades that landed amongst the defenders. 

The Kytharin in front of Kyra was hit in the head by a bolter round, blowing his head off. She caught his Impaler as it fell, holding one in each hand as they ran. Twenty feet from the Imperial defenses, more then half their number gone, the Kytharin began to sing an ancient war chant, broadcasting it on their helmet microphones to unnerve the Imperials. The front rank pumped their Scorchers and Lashers, finding to their glee that the weapons were in range.

With six hundred voices raised in a howling cry, the Kytharins smashed into the Imperial line, bayonets stabbing through bodies. Scorchers blazed away merrily. Lashers cracked, separating heads and limbs. A few knots of resistance held out, clearing some areas with lasfire, but the relentless assault could not be denied. 

Kyra leapt over the Imperial barricade, firing both Impalers. Guardsmen toppled over, dozens of rounds tearing into the squads. A bolter round went wide and she knelt down with a preternatural speed, firing at the man holding it. He went down, screaming. A trooper holding a Heavy Flamer bathed her in fire, but the armor simply indicated the fire was nowhere near hot enough to penetrate the plates, and Kyra leapt on him like a giant bird of prey, crushing his arms to dust. He wailed in agony and Kyra pumped a shot into his face.

Sal flashed past, a Lasher in his hands. Two Imperials rounding the corner of a bunker caught the brunt of it, falling in pieces to the ground.

Kyra knelt down, sighting a massive Heavy Bolter emplacement mowing down the Slayers still brave or foolish enough to charge it.

[Zekt, come on. Where's the bang?] she said.

A half-second later, a massive _Sy'kyr_ class antiship missile smashed into the roof of the bunker, blowing it out in a hail of rockrete shrapnel and gore. _Deliverance_ flashed through the smoke at full burn, making soldiers flinch as it roared over Hill 67.

The last defenders of Hill 67, two Astartes and six SDF Guard, fought back-to-back on the summit of the hill with no cover in the least. The Guard fought from behind the Astartes, letting the heavy power armor deflect the Impaler and Lasher rounds. A Slayer with a Prosecutor rifle stood up and caught a bolter round just below the collarbone, blowing his organs to paste.

"Sal." said Kyra. Sal was at her side, cradling the Laser. His armor was dented and smoldering, but hadn't been breached.

"Do you have a Turkov?" she asked. Turkov heavy munitions were rare, because their maker, Turkov'Te'Kiel, made them by hand. They were basically two Spiker grenades attached by a chain. Extra explosives and a jelly-like adhesive made them extremely dangerous, both to the user and the target. 

"Just one. Please don't tell me to-"

"Give it to me."

Sal sighed and handed over the device. Kyra handed him the Impalers.

"Cover me." she said. Sal nodded with a determined motion and cocked the rifle.

Kyra vaulted over the barricade and ran at the Imperials. The Marines saw her first, and turned.

"Purge the Xenos!" one roared. The bolter came up, chewing a line of craters before smashing into her chestplate and shoulder. She held up an arm to protect her face and felt a single round go through her shoulder and detonate just behind her back, making her stumble. The Astartes corrected his aim, and a Spike round smashed into his eye, making him roar in pain and lower the bolter. Kyra gritted her teeth and continued. 

When she was five feet from the first Marine, she triggered the Turkov, sticking it to his chestplate. She planted her unwounded hand on his shoulder and vaulted over the others, landing a foot from the second Astartes. She stuck the other half of the device to the second Marines' chest. The pair seemed to realize what was about to happen, and ran in two directions. The grenade went off, killing one outright and making the other stumble and fall as it obliterated most of his chest. Five of the six Guard were down, the last tried to crawl away as Kyra, nursing her injured arm, stepped heavily on his leg. 

"Please, Emperor no!" he wailed. Kyra shot him.

The second Astartes was getting to his feet, panting in pain. Drips of blood fell from the ventilator grille in his helmet.

"You... you are, all of you. Vermin." growled the Space Marine.

Sal and most of the surviving Slayers walked up to the pair. Sal patted Kyra on the shoulder.

"Nice move." he said. "But don't do it again."

The marine swallowed, sending a spurt of blood spattering from his ruined chest. Something clicked.

Sal saw it a second before anyone else. A grenade rolled from the Astartes' limp grasp as he died. The Slayers were right on top of it, exposed. He didn't think. Pushing Kyra back, he jumped onto the bomb. He tried not to look at the Marine's ruined face, desperately hoping Lancer armor was all it was cracked up to be.

There was a feeling like being shaken hard in a metal box, and the world went black. 

He distantly heard Kyra yell. "No! Medivac, medivac _now_! Bring it down right here!"

He felt hands on his arms and legs, and the downdraft of _Deliverance_'s drives, and then even that faded away.


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## Ordo Xeno Commander

Awesome, I hope he's alright. Probably just bruising :wink:


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## waltzmelancholy_07

Dirge!:shok:... Men, where do you get these ideas?.... Hahahaha!:grin:


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## Dirge Eterna

Thanks all. I actually spend a lot more time planning then writing. At some point I might make a choose-your-own-adventure, just to use all the unused story ideas 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kyra sat on a set of marble steps leading down from a columned temple, atop a vast citadel of similar stone construction. Plants grew everywhere, from small grasses that grew in precut slits in the ground to vast trees that broke the stones nearest then in an effort to grow. The moon of Vay'kal was one of Ven'couyt's primary satellites, but almost totally uninhabited. Only sixteen hundred monks, priests, and warriors lived on the moon, tending to the broken citadel of Pax Mons. Only one among them was anything but a normal Kytharin, an oracle and healer only known as The Valkyrie. 

The Kytharin standing next to Kyra was decidedly unnatural. She wore a suit of white armor, so thin it was translucent, though Kyra knew it could turn the blows of an Astartes with ease. Two white wings draped from her shoulders, and a cloak of pure white feathers was draped over her shoulders, trailing on the ground behind her. A staff of smooth wood was gripped in one hand, designs of exquisite craftsmanship were carved into the soft wood, and a silver rose adorned the tip. A vast sword was scabbarded at her side. A blazing white aura surrounded the Kytharin, making her look almost angelic.

_I am sorry._ said the Kytharin. Her voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, as her mouth didn't move as the words sounded. 

Kyra shook her head slowly.

"I doubt it." she said.

The Kytharin's eyes took on a pained look. _I mean it. I have a respect for all living things. I feel the pain of their passing every day._

She knelt down near Kyra, running two fingers along the petal of a dying rose on the stairs. The flower seemed to tremble at her touch, and suddenly burst into life again, shedding the dead exterior. Beads of dew dripped from the leaves.

"How can you not do anything?" asked Kyra.

_It is not for me to decide, at least how to use my abilities._

"But-"

_You are tired. Please come inside. I will have the brothers prepare a meal_.

"What are you?" asked Kyra. "The clans say you're a healer."

The Kytharin smiled sadly. _I am, in some sense. They call me the Valkyrie, though I do not know why. Perhaps it is the wings._

The two limbs flexed in a motion, making the feathers ruffle against each other.

"I just can't believe he's hurt." said Kyra. The Valkyrie placed a hand on Kyra's shoulder, where the bolter round had gone through it. The flesh shuddered, and flowed together. Kyra scratched the new tissue.

_He has life in him yet._ said the Valkyrie. _He will not pass quietly into the abyss. If your medicae is as good as you believe she is, he will not pass at all._

Kyra stood up. 

_See? Not all is as it seems. Nothing ever is. All you can do is hope it will turn out as you wish it will. And I can tell you have feelings for him._

"What do you know of it?" asked Kyra, an edge coming into her voice. "You haven't ever been normal, at least as far as the Clans tell it."

The Valkyrie shrugged slightly, making the cloak quiver in the slight breeze. _The Clans are good Kytharin, at least in their own right. The story of my coming has been lost to many of them. I, at least, still recall the very first days._

The Kytharin picked Kyra up with one hand, as one would lift a child to it's feet, and led her inside. They passed a half dozen other Kytharin, two armored like warriors, while the others wore the half-armor and half-robes of the scribes and priests that tended the fortress. They stopped at a series of murals and bas-reliefs etched into the temple's walls. The first showed a single planet, obviously Ven'couyt, and a shard of white crystal falling towards it.

_The founding of Ven'couyt, and the clans._ explained The Valkyrie. _The white crystal that led the Explorer fleets to the planet._

They passed another two murals, and ended at a bas-relief of a young Kytharin holding a sword, draped in robes.

_This is me. Or at least it was. As far as I know, I am the only psychically attuned Kytharin. This ability gave me my wings, my powers. I gathered a following and made a pilgrimage to this moon after the Battle of Irae Mons. The brothers and sisters renamed this broken citadel Pax Mons and took it as a home. And here we have dwelt ever since. Occasionally a sick or weak Kytharin will seek me out to be healed, but other then that I am normally removed from Ven'couyt's proceedings. The clans fight as they always have, and I tend to my gardens in peace, with only my brothers and sisters for company._

"How old are you?" asked Kyra, mystified. 

_I do not remember._ said The Valkyrie slowly. She cocked her head, calculating. _But the Exodus from Ven'couyt was over twelve thousand years ago. I lived another six thousand on the planet itself, before Pax Mons was but a glimmer in my thoughts._

"That means you're older then the SDF itself. Gods. And you rule this place?"

_Gods, no. I would not want to rule anything, I imagine. The temptation would be too much for me. Instead I offer counsel, and treat the injured or sick, of course. But most of all I nurture the plants that inhabit Pax Mons._

Kyra looked at the floor. "So there's nothing you can do for Sal?"

The Valkyrie lifted Kyra's chin up, looking her in the eye. _He is beyond my help, young Kyra of Ven'couyt. Only his own will may stay his judgment now._

"Can you tell what will happen?" asked Kyra. She jogged to keep up as The Valkyrie moved back down the hall, to a clear pool set into the floor of the temple. A single tree grew from the edge of the pool, cracking the tiles. It reached almost to the ceiling, which was open to the sky.

_I cannot. The Imperium's war has render my sight nearly useless. The pain and suffering blocks my vision, as it sometimes has. Such is the way of things. In peaceful times I would tell you, but I am afraid that it is impossible under the circumstances._

Kyra bit her lip. "So that's it, then? Down to fate?"

The Valkyrie placed a hand on Kyra's shoulder, giving her a small smile. _Nothing is ever certain. Remember that._

She handed Kyra a single white feather, the nib of it carved with wording too thin to make out. Kyra sat on the pool's edge, thinking, and when she looked up, The Valkyrie was gone.


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## Ordo Xeno Commander

Awesome. I love this fillers that prove to have a use later in the book. Very nicely done Dirge.


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## Dirge Eterna

800 hits on this topic so far 
--------------------------------

Kyra stood in the medbay of _Serenity_, watching as Izi detached the tubes running to Sal's mouth. The breathing machine stopped with a _click_, and the tank he floated in drained within a minute. Sal gave a long gasp and coughed. He looked around in a wide-eyed terror for a moment, and then he met Kyra's stare. She put a hand to the outside of the tank. 

He had a concussion, multiple fractured ribs, a deflated lung, a broken arm, and internal bleeding, Izi had said. Kyra felt a wetness gather at the corner of her eyes, and she hastily wiped it away. When she looked up, Sal had his own hand pressed on the inside of the tank, only a quarter-inch of the transparesteel separating them.

Sal smiled weakly. Kyra returned the gesture.

"He'll be fine." said Izi. "As long as there's not any significant activity within two or three weeks. I'm going to watch the internal injuries, a few of them might need to be cauterized."

Kyra nodded, and turned to Sal. He had a puzzled look on his face, and Kyra remembered the tanks were soundproofed. Keeping her hand against his, she raised her other hand and made a simple Kytharin sign, used when soldiers couldn't hear over a battle.

_Good_.

Sal's eyes glinted.

"But that's all I can allow for today, at least." said Izi. "I'm staying on _Serenity_, at least for the time being. I need to reoxygenize the tank."

Kyra nodded, and gave Sal one last look before leaving the medbay.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, what do we have left?" asked Rek. Kyra sat in his quarters with Dez, and Jesc, the four of them sharing a bottle of a Kytharin alcohol known as _Ire'kal_. 

"Not much." admitted Kyra. "The SDF's gone quiet since Vesperia."

Jesc nodded thoughtfully. "They're probably waiting for us to strike at Port Royal. They know it's the outlying system on our territories now."

"It's true," said Rek, "But why not attack back? I don't mean to be a pessimist, but the SDF Solar Fleet could roll over our armada, scattered as it is."

"They're waiting." said Dez. "They fear our might. And rightly so, I might add."

Kyra nursed the dregs of her glass. "What we need is intelligence. What's the closest system to the Solar we can get to?"

Jesc thought for a moment. "Dunbar." she said. "It's a feudal world. We've got a few traders that go through now and again. Mostly friendly. The humans there think we're dragons."

The assembled Kytharin laughed.

Kyra drained her glass and set it on the table next to the bottle. "Well, then. I'm going to pay them a visit."

-----------------------------------------------------------

An hour later, Zekt sat at the controls of _Deliverance_, piloting the ship away from the hangars. 

"Why are we going here, again?" he asked.

Kyra sat next to him, manning weapons. "Because we need all the intel we can get at this point. Port Royal's going to be brutal. And this ship's small enough to slip past the nets of the Maginot Sphere."

Zekt sighed and pressed the fat yellow handle marked "RELAY" forward, sending _Deliverance_ hurtling away.

Little more then ten minutes later, he pulled the handle back, and the world of Dunbar came into view. A dozen massive islands composed the landmasses, mostly chilly forests and, farther south, windswept plains and rolling hills. The populace was peaceful to outsiders, ruled by a singular All King for dealings with spacefarers, but brutal to each other, the eight tribes always vying for dominance.

Zekt homed in on the nearest city, called Edinbarrow. Though to call it a "city" was a bit of an understatedment. The town was built into a hillside, sixty-odd homes, with large wooden and thatch buildings for businesses and merchants. A stone fortress was atop the hill, ballistae and catapults looming from the walls. The only modern building was the spaceport constructed by the traders that came through, tasteful metal fittings and ductwork overlaying the greyish stone.

_Deliverance_ set down on the pad, and a small man with large eyes and a fat tome greeted them at the ramp.

"Scribe Brian." said the man. "I'll be yer guide to Edinbarrow."

He led them down the metal staircase and along the street, avoiding the muddy road. 

"We want to know things." said Kyra. Brian shrugged. 

"I figg'rd." he said. "But I thought ye'd by more comf'terble with yer own kind. There be a smithy in this town, he's a dragon too."

Zekt snorted quietly as the man said "dragon".

"Can ye breathe fire li' the other 'un?" asked Brian. Kyra cocked her head.

"What?"

"Ne'er mind."

The little man led them to a partly open forge in the center of the city, leaving them with a bow. Kyra shouldered open the door, to be confronted by a dozen people and a scorched Kytharin, a plume of fire issuing from his mouth. The crowd cheered and clapped, and the Kytharin turned away. The people dispersed, most holding some manner of iron goods.

"You do that often?" asked Kyra offhanded. The Kytharin turned, rubbing his mouth with a cloth. He spoke with an odd accent, similar to Brian's, but not nearly as thick.

"Good eenin' to you too. I'm afraid it don't do much to the myth we're dragons, of course." he said. "I use whiskey."

Kyra smiled and extended a hand. "Kyra'Ven'couyt."

"Your worst nightmare." added Zekt.

The Kytharin rubbed the worst of the grime off his face and hands, taking the proffered hand. His now-clean skin revealed a bluish design tattooed onto his face, chest, and arms. Swirls and intricate patterns were worked into the design, and Kyra could tell the artist had been a man of exquisite skill. He wore a chainmail shirt under a leather vest and pants, with a pair of fingerless gloves. Belts crisscrossed his thin chest, and a headband of some plaid material was wrapped around his forehead.

"Vaiq t' Forger, as fell-handed a dragon as e'er lift'd a Claymore."

"A what?" asked Zekt. Vaiq pulled a massive sword from his belt, almost five and half feet long and so sharp it was almost transparent on the edges. A series of Kytharin runes were etched into the blade, and the hilt was wrapped in leather. The guard was worked into the shape of a crescent moon facing the holder. 

"These b'eauties." said Vaiq. "Monst'r swords, really. The people here love'em. As long as I keep makin'em, they keep buyin'em."

Kyra blinked slowly. "Well, can we talk?"

Vaiq sheathed the massive blade and nodded. "Yeah, but let's go some'er nice."

St. George's Pub was a two-story pile of wood and slats that turned out to conceal a brewery, pub, and inn. A sign showing a man in plate armor spearing a dragon was hung from the porch.

"Nice place." said Kyra, indicating the sign.

"Oh, don't mind it." said Vaiq. "It's a pretty good joke around here that all the Kytharin drink here because it makes fun of the sign. Apparently St. George killed a dragon back when their Emperor was still in nappies, and we're just his kiddies running around."

The trio sat down at a table, ignoring the raucous laughter and drinking songs. Three tankards the size of buckets splashed down on the table. The innkeeper smiled at Vaiq, who handed him a golden coin with a crown inscribed on it.

"How do you live here?" asked Kyra.

"I love the atmosphere." said Vaiq. "Nice people, nice place. No smoke an' smog an' shite in the air, like back on Quet'zal. But then again, I do barely remember the place. I was maybe four when mum left with me to move here."

"Anyways, what's the deal with the SDF?" asked Kyra. Vaiq sipped his beer.

"Bollocks to tell, really." he said. "Last rogue trader was maybe, oh, two months 'go? Last patrol was God knows when. May'e twenty stormtroopers, in a wee litt'le frigate."

Kyra tested her own beverage, noting to some surprise it was extremely well-made. Zekt was moving on to his second mug.

"Can you tell us who's leading them?" asked Kyra. Vaiq leaned back a little, putting his feet up on the chair next to him.

"Nah really, o'course, but I've heard some'thins."

"What kind of things?"

"A spook name'a Adrian Black. He popp'd in maybe two weeks 'go, talk'd to the king, an' left."

Kyra cursed under her breath. She took another sip of the beer, and a man burst into the bar, yelling.

"There's outsid'rs in the grounds! I's Inglis and his lot!"

The men in the bar roared and grabbed swords and axes, storming out the door.

"Shite." said Vaiq. He looked at Kyra. "E's a local brigand. Gotta go stuff 'is 'ead down 'is neck."

He got up and left, dropping a second coin on the bar.

The people of Edinbarrow formed up in two loose ranks, facing outwards along a line of spiked spears driven into the ground. A similar force was arrayed against them. The people gripped spears and pikes mostly, but all of them had an axe or sword in close reach. The second line gripped two-handed axes and Claymores.

Vaiq stood head and shoulders above the crowd, gripping the vast sword in both hands. A small buckler was strapped around his wrist.

"Why don't you use a goddam gun?" asked Kyra. 

"Takes all the fun out o'it!" replied Vaiq.

Kyra rolled her eyes. She motioned to Zekt and the pair took up positions near a set of stairs.

A man blew a single note on a warhorn, and sixty or seventy men charged the lines of villagers. At the last second, Edinbarrow's residents countercharged, lunging forwards with pikes and spears to impale the attackers. Swords swept through the morass, axes broke heads. Shields were shattered by blows. A ball on the end of a long chain whipped over Kyra's head and embedded itself in the wall.

Vaiq was in the center of it all, shouting curses fluently and swinging the claymore in wide, turning loops that killed two or three men with each pass.

Kyra pumped precision Impaler fire into the melee, careful not to hit any defenders. Zekt followed the example, firing single slugs from his Lasher. 

The two forces had mostly been decided now, the villagers' countercharge having weakened the attackers. A man in plate armor fought Vaiq and two others in the center of the battle. As Kyra watched, he beheaded one of the villagers, his sword clanking off Vaiq's own. As the Kytharin deflected it, an axe came up and slashed open his arm. Vaiq spit into the warrior's visor, and drove the claymore two-handed through his chest. The opposing army stopped for a moment, and the plate-armored man sputtered, falling off the blade.

"A bad death!" yelled someone. "Inglis' dead! E's died badly! One strike!"

The two sides parted, some of the warriors shaking hands and exchanging nods.

"Find yerself a new leader, an' haste back!" yelled one of the defenders. The brigands laughed and walked from the lines, chatting.

Kyra watched in amazement. Vaiq wiped the gore from his sword and smiled at them, the blue tattoos turned a slight purple by the splatter of blood.

"Now, where were we?" he asked. 

"The SDF?" offered Zekt. He lowered the Lasher.

"Oh, right. O'course. If yer gonna go off an' fight 'em, I'd like to come with." said Vaiq.

"Doesn't Edinbarrow need you?" asked Kyra. 

"Nah. They'll get on fine. I'll tell Duncan to watch the smithy while I'm gone. E's a good lad."

Kyra nodded, and they walked from the forge to the landing pad. She keyed the comms. Dez answered.

"Speak." said the Stormserpent in a typical gruff manner.

"Got some intel." said Kyra. "And another stray."

"One of the pinkies?"

"No, he's a smith from the planet. _Kytha'yaim_."

"A stray. Great."

Vaiq leaned over to the screen. "Jus' cause I live on a planet like this, you think I'm a savage? I'l take 'his and shove it up yer-"

"At least he's tough enough." said Dez. "Debrief me when you get back. _Serenity_ out."

Kyra smiled at Vaiq. "Go take a shower." she said. The smith shrugged and walked back towards the refreshers. Zekt licked his lips, and hit the Mass Relay drives.


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## Shogun_Nate

So I just sat down and spent the last couple hours reading over this from beginning to end. Very good story mate. You tell a good tale. It's got everything a story needs to keep it interesting and fresh. 

Good luck and good gaming,

Nate


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## Dirge Eterna

That's quite something, coming from you.


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## Shogun_Nate

Pfft..don't say that..or my ego will kick in and I'll have to call Deneris in to deflate it (something he relishes more than roasting Space Wolves over an open flame...)...


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## Dirge Eterna

If he did deflate your ego rapidly, would you pop, or explode? I imagine that would depend on whether your ego is inflated with helium, or hydrogen, and whether you're on fire when it gets deflated...

Note to all: There's been a bit of a name change, as when I was writing this it struck me how similar "Sal" and "Val" were. Val's name is now Vaiq, and I'll be editing this in for the previous chapter.
-------------------------------------------------------------

_Serenity_ and it's adjacent fleet flashed into existence above Kel'de, the small tenders and transports flying off to refit and rearm the vast war fleet. _Deliverance_ wasn't among the fleet, Kyra having taken the ship directly to Ven'couyt with Izi, Sal, Rek, Vaiq, and Zekt aboard. 

Unknowable to all, a single relay probe on the outskirts of the system began to chirp. For the entirety of the wars between the former Imperium and the Kytharin the Core Worlds, Ven'couyt, Kel'de, Quet'zal, Te'Kiel, and of course, Kytharia, had been kept a closely guarded secret. Aay'han was freely known, as the warrior clans there had little problems mopping up the occasional invasion, and they boasted proudly that Aay'han's warriors grew on battle.

But for all it's advantages, Mass Relay technology had one fatal flaw: it could be tracked, as each ship left a "hole" in space, from where it jumped to where it exited. Inquisitor Adrian Black had spent over a hundred years of constant research attempting to find a scanner that could pinpoint such holes. He was only partially successful. The Mark I Mass Relay Detector could pinpoint entrances to Relay Space, and their direction, but not their distance. He had spent six weeks in the Warp tracking _Serenity_ and it's fleet, and now as his private ship, the _Furious Revenge_, floated on the edge of the system, the entirety of the Segmentum Solar battlefleet warped in behind it.

On Kel'de, klaxons began to rise in pitch to a screaming wail. One final message was sent to the fleet before the world initiated blackout measures.

[_Serenity_ TC, fleet, get clear. Kel'de stands or dies alone. Face this enemy on your own terms. Do not die for theirs. Kel'de GC out.]

The Kytharin fleet smashed back into Relay Space, leaving Kel'de at the mercy of the Imperials. Or nearly at the mercy. Vast orbital defense batteries hammered at the fleet. A destroyer fell into the atmosphere, boiling. The defense platforms were quickly surrounded and destroyed, and the SDF set up a quarantine of the planet.

And the landings began. But when the soldiers tore into the markets and homes of Kel'de, they found them deserted. Kel'de Slayers lived on a permanent war footing. They'd gone to ground at the first squawk of the sirens. Over the council palace, the flag with Kel'de's symbol was gone, and in it's place was a red, tattered banner, bearing a clawed fist clutching a war hammer. The ancestral symbol of resistance for the people.

A curfew was enforced, and the SDF waited.

--------------------------------------------------------

Kyra leaned back in the chair, rubbing her eyes. Zekt sat at the controls, motionless. Izi and Sal were in the infirmary, Sal's injuries still severe. Rek was over the holotable, watching the fleet engagement over and over.

Vaiq walked up the steps to the bridge, clad in a new suit of Flight Armor. He retained the multitude of belts, as well as the vast claymore and what looked like an elongated harmonica. 

"What we doin', then?" he asked. Kyra shook her head. 

"Well, there's always the Hammer." she said. The God Hammer was a massive ion pulse cannon built into Kytharia's northernmost mountain range by a forerunner unknown. Some speculated the precursors to the Kytharin themselves put it there.

Rek turned. "We will not lead them to the homeworld, _Ky'ika_, unless we've no other place to go."

Zekt nodded. "It's true, but we have to get the clans together. Get everyone ready and dug in. There's not way _Serenity_ and the fleet is going to engage that flotilla straight away. Even Reigk isn't that stupid."

Fleetmaster Reigk'Te'Kiel was the leader of the _Serenity_ and it's fleets, and thus in almost total command of the expeditions to Vesperia, Ilios, and the other worlds.

"Where are we now?" asked Kyra. Zekt slid over to the Navi station and keyed in their codes.

"Subsector Beta-Four." he said. "Just short of the Kytharia Jump Point."

"Drop us here."

Zekt nodded and pulled on the Relay controls. A sharp _bump_ echoed through the ship and they dropped out of Relay space.

"What was that?" asked Kyra, and edge in her voice. Zekt shrugged.

"Hit a bump. Don't worry. We bounce."

Kyra looked at one of the exterior cameras, looking at a fat scratch along the ship where a Microasteroid had smacked into the hull.

"You almost jumped us into a rock, _mir'osik_." she said. 

"Aw, that'll buff right out." said Zekt.

_Deliverance_ crossed the planet's terminus line, passing from night to day. The sensor nets registered the vessel and moved out of the way, allowing the ship to land in the capital itself unchallenged.

A Council Guard walked to the ramp as it descended.

"Councilor Rek'Ven'Couyt." said the Guard. "The Council expresses it's relief at your return."

Rek nodded. "Come, we've much to discuss."

Kyra turned to a cargo tender parked at the edge of the pad. She jingled a few credits in a pouch on her waist, and the ground crew lounging there began to restock _Deliverance_. Far in the city, a long, solemn note blew. It was the call of the _Inp'ke'dom_, the Horn of Doom. 

It was a call to war.


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## dark angel

Awesome work Dirge i must say this is among my favourite fluff on the internet its great, DA


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## waltzmelancholy_07

One word... AWESOME!!!!!


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## Shogun_Nate

Excellent addition Dirge! Can't wait for the next part!

Good luck and good gaming,

Nate


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## deathbringer

2 hours and worth every minute
fantastic read dirge
i cant do it justice with my pathetic linguistic skills
so have some rep
and shame on every lazy frakker that couldnt be bothered to spend 1 minute to comment on work of this quality


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## waltzmelancholy_07

Here!2x... I second the last comment:victory::laugh::biggrin:...


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## Dirge Eterna

Thanks guys. It means a lot to me .

Update tomorrow, sorry, I've been a bit busy of late. There was a small scramble over the F-22/F-35 debate, and some people went home angry. Luckily I'm not one of them. They take my baby, there's going to be blood.


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## Dirge Eterna

Well, that fell through. I'm not doing anything right now, and out of 120 channels approximately NOTHING is on. Update NAOW party later.
------------------------------------------------------------------

"You, are damn lucky."

"I prefer to think of it as skill."

"I'm just glad you're back, _Sal'ika_."

Sal smiled and stared at the ceiling.

"I heard the Horn. What's going on?"

"The SDF invaded Kel'de. We haven't heard anything in a week."

He looked at her. "You think it's already fallen?"

Kyra chuckled. "I think the Slayers haven't even finished their opening skirmish yet. They're guerrillas anyways, so gods help the SDF on the ground."

A rapping of knuckles came on the door. Kyra pulled the blankets up tighter. 

Zekt threw open the door, in full armor with an Impaler in one hand.

"I knocked." he said. Kyra glared at him.

"I noticed." she replied.

"Stop your fun and armor up. There's a confirmed in-system jump to Aay'han."

Sal's eyes widened. He pulled on his armor's undersuit. Kyra followed. 

"What happened?" asked Sal, as Zekt led them onto the bridge. He sat down in the command chair and lifted _Deliverance_ off the pad, cruising low over the city before angling sharply upwards and punching through the clouds.

Vaiq yawned widely and stretched, walking onto the bridge and sitting in the navi console.

"What's going on?" he asked. Kyra noticed his accent was diminished now that he'd spent time with other Kytharin.

"The SDF's invaded Aay'han, apparently."

Vaiq snorted. "They're gonna need more ships, I think. A few wee guard are gonna get slaughtered on the ground."

Zekt shook his head quickly. "That's the problem. The Council thinks the Astartes have invaded on their own time. _Just_ Astartes."

"An army." breathed Kyra. "Of just Space Marines."

"So we've got to take them out in orbit." said Zekt. He leaned forward, edging the Mass Relay lever back. Kyra hadn't even noticed them begin the jump.

_Deliverance_ exited Relay Space, into hell.

Over three hundred ships in low orbit over Aay'han pounded each other with point-blank volleys. Two hundred were the gunmetal grey or blue of Kytharin, others were the riot of colors the Space Marine Chapters employed. At least a dozen hulks fell burning into the atmosphere. _Serenity_ was at the heart of it all, downing an SDF ship with every broadside. The ship was thrice the size of the Astartes' Battle-Barges, and reaped a fearsome toll.

[Unknown contact slipping in, stopped just outside the killbox.] chirped the radio.

[Track steady.] came the reply.

[This is the EWS _Transcendence_. The contact is the SDF freighter _Trespassers William_ under KV-202 protocol nine. All friendly contacts clear a path to the Astartes' flagship, please.]

Zekt looked at Kyra with a crazed smile. The Kytharin grasp of hacking and technology was almost unbelievable, especially among the techtheologists of Quet'zal, and their research bore strange fruit. The Electronic Warfare Ships, or EWSs, were outfitted with hacking, slicing, and intrusion viruses. When in range, they could disable a ship, or even take control of the systems.

The SDF fleet saw the ship ignite it's engines, and most of them scattered. A single scarred Battle-barge stood in the way, it's black hull marked with a white cross. "En Templar Nominae" was stenciled under the cross. It fired a full broadside at the hurtling ship, but by now _Trespassers William_ was going so fast it would be impossible for the SDF targeters to follow.

"They're going to take down the flagship!" said Vaiq. The freighter impacted the barge just short of the engines, cracking the fusion bottle. The cargo exploded in a silent hellstorm of fire. Blobs of cooling metal were flung away by the force. The barge flew in a tight circle, thrusters trying to control the spin, and tumbled into the atmosphere, a dozen contrails following it down.

The SDF ships, seeming to realize their life expectancy, flashed to life, throwing themselves at the planet. Small pods and landers spilled out of them like egg casings. 

[Fighter wing seven, targets approaching at map grid two-nine-four.]

[Uh, copy clear, two. Get that one.] 

[Drop-pods down in sector six, confirmed hostiles]

A flash lit up the horizon as the Templar battle-barge struck the planet's surface and detonated in a hail of shrapnel and molten metal. 

_Deliverance_ rolled and dove to the surface. Zekt piloted the ship around the swarms of drop-pods and landers. The 150mm cannons throbbed, accounting for more then a dozen heavy dropships. 

[Aay'han TC, this is armed pirata vessel _Deliverance_. Anything we can do to help?]

[_Deliverance_, TC here, yeah. Kill something. Aay'han TC out.]

"Cool." said Kyra.

Sal and Vaiq looked at each other, then at her.

"Suit up, fellas. Let's follow his advice."


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## Ordo Xeno Commander

Awesome stuff Dirge. Loving the mix of space fights and ground-fight. You really are a brilliant writer. 409th is coming along well, almost finished A-0227 and Zulu.


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## waltzmelancholy_07

I just can't believe you're this good!:biggrin:....


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## deathbringer

Hot! another star fight
great stuff dirge


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## Dirge Eterna

Thanks all! Almost 1000 views!
-----------------------

The regional capital, Aeos, was almost instantly under siege by over three hundred Space Marines of the Raven Guard Chapter. The surrounding countryside was ravaged by the Blood Angels, Death Spectres, and Warp Ghosts. _Deliverance_ cruised through the smoke pillars and debris, setting down just south of the main capital thoroughfare, across a thin bridge leading to the Aay'han Archives.

Vaiq, Sal, and Kyra stood in the drop bay, in full suits of Lancer Armor. Kyra had hers painted deep blue, with black slashes, while Sal's was deep red with white. Vaiq had opted for gunmetal grey with blue splotches that perfectly matched his tattoos. 

"Alri'hy then." said Vaiq. "We gonna hand it to 'em, then?"

Kyra smiled and set her helmet into place. She keyed the doors, and the drop bay opened onto Aay'han at war. 

"Yeah." she said. "Alright, team. Primary objective is to link up with Dez at the city center. Secondary's to protect the civvies."

Sal nodded, and cocked an Impaler. Kyra led the way, loping along the white marble bridge to the capital streets. They crossed a road, littered with small craters and wrecked vehicles. A dozen Raven Guard and fifteen Stormserpents lay among the wreckage. The Astartes weren't advancing without cost, then.

Kyra ducked around a shattered Talon dropship, and caught sight of Dez in the center of the square. He was talking to the Stormserpents.

"-then, spawnlings! You will fire until you run out of ammo, and then you will charge them with knives and axes. When those break, you will use teeth and claws. If you cannot do that, you will attempt to punch your enemy. If you have no arms, you will kick your enemy. If you have no legs, then you will attempt to trip the enemy with your limbless body. If you are unable to do that, you've got an attitude problem. Do you hear me, Stormserpents!?"

The soldiers echoed Dez's speech with a roar. Weapons and armor cracked together.

"To war!" roared Dez. The Stormserpents ran in a dozen directions, and the sound of small-arms fire intensified.

"E'z here already!" yelled Vaiq. He spun around and a dozen Raven Guard appeared from the mist, spattered with blue blood. 

The soldiers took up defensive positions. A hail of Impaler bolts and Lasher shurikan clattered off the power armor. The marines raised their bolters, the heavy projectiles chewing through cover, armor, and flesh. A Stormserpent with a Redeemer stood up and fired, killing two Marines and sending four stumbling away, their armor torched and blood leaking from cracks.

"For the Raven! For The Emperor, brothers! Look to the skies!" roared a voice. A marine with a bright white helmet and six others vaulted from the overhead buildings on Jump Packs. Kytharin were pinned down and crushed by the weight of the falling marines, and their chainswords reaped a tally among the Stormserpents and local PDF. A marine charged over Kyra and Sal's hiding place, and smashed into Vaiq. The chainsword clattered off his armor and sent him tumbling. Sal jumped onto the Marine's back and smashed the flight controls with the butt of his Impaler. He fell off, and the Marine rocketed off into the clouds, his flight uncontrollable. Another bowled him over, and Vaiq unsheathed the gleaming sword. The Raven Guard roared a warcry and swung his own blade at head height, and it would have surely decapitated Vaiq had his own blade not suddenly intervened. The razor-sharp neosteel blade scythed the chainsword cleanly in two, Vaiq ducking as the top half of the blade whistled over his head and connected with the arm of another Raven Guard, cracking the armor. The Assault Marine looked in stupefied silence for a moment, and reached for the flight controls on his side. Vaiq drew the sword back, and stabbed him through the chest.

Kyra vaulted over the small barrier and kicked a Marine back, the augmented muscles of the Lancer armor smashing him backwards. The bolter tumbled from his grip, and she ducked down again, kicking him in the knee and snapping it backwards. The marine roared in pain and anger and punched her away, falling to one leg as his injured one gave way. A dozen Stormserpents directed their fire on him and he tumbled, three dozen Impaler and Lasher bolts in his chest and head.

An Eagle bomber flashed overhead, and dropped a fat munition onto the Marines' position. A plume of dust whipped up, and the Kytharin cheered as the Marines stumbled around, missing limbs or crawling from the impact site. Dez led his soldiers to finish off the survivors.

[AHC, AHC, AHC calling all surviving ground units at Liberation Square, the Astartes have taken the Council chambers and grounds. Fall back to the Archives, repeat fall back to the Archives.]

"Damn it all." said Dez. "The Black Talon were supposed to guard the Chambers. I'll have their heads on a platter."

Kyra blinked slowly. The Black Talon was a shadowy assassin order, employed by the Council of Eldars on Kytharia. 

"You had assassins and mercenaries guard the Council Chambers?" she asked.

"I did, and now I regret it." said Dez, as they ran back towards the bridge. The assembled Stormserpents now numbered only twenty, plus Dez and Kyra's crew.

_Deliverance_ still sat on the pad, it's rear cargo doors open. Dozens of Kytharin in reddish robes bustled about, carrying fat tomes and stacks of paper into the ship. Kyra picked the one with the most gold on his robe and tapped him on the shoulder, gesturing to the bucket line of scribes.

"That's my ship." she said. The scribe took on a look of grateful, yet incredulous hope.

"Good. We need to get these records off-world as soon as we possibly can."

Dez appeared at Kyra's shoulder, as the Stormserpents, Vaiq, and Sal took up positions on the bridge. 

"That'll be when we leave, Scribe Zelin. We've got enough C-12 and Comp E to blow that bridge into low orbit, hopefully with as many pinkies on it as possible."

"Guns up and heads down!" yelled a Stormserpent. A Predator tank and dozens of Space Marines poured onto the bridge. A flare lanced into the air and came down sixty feet in front of the marines. A second one landed over a hundred. The first flare marked the optimum range of an Impaler. The second marked the optimum range of a Bolter, when the Marines could be expected to shoot back.

Impalers and Redeemers opened fire up the line, scything down the first rank. The second tripped over their bodies and soon a third rank was picking over the bodies and wounded. The Predator opened fire, slicing through a half dozen Stormserpents. Bolters began to chatter as they passed the second flare, and the cover the Kytharin sheltered behind began to disappear. Kyra looked up and shot a hole through a Marine's visor. 

_Deliverance_'s drives thrummed, and the 150mm cannons swiveled to track the charging marines. Huge holes were blasted into the lines.

"Got your paper on board, Scribe? Didn't forget the kitchen sink?" asked Dez. Scribe Zelin shook his head with almost indecent haste. 

"Alright, spawnlings, let's hit'em!" roared Dez. He brought the detonator up and clicked it.

Nothing happened.

He turned to Kyra, and pressed it again. A red, flashing light appeared on it's casing.

"They're jamming the signal." he explained. Kyra blinked slowly.

"We can take it out with the 150s."

"No. The bridge is made of phrik. Nothing but a battleship is going to destroy it. Or the twenty-two hundred pounds of explosives I have strapped to it."

Kyra cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

Dez handed her his Impaler.

"Take care of my Stormserpents." he said.

"Wait!" yelled Kyra, but he was already gone. The Stormserpents piled onto the ship, and Zekt reached down and grabbed Kyra as the ship accelerated upwards. It fired a volley into the Archives, destroying what Zelin and his scribes had left behind.

Dez watched from the barricade. 

"Get clear." he said, and he cocked a Lasher. The Marines were scattered, firing ineffectual volleys at the retreating _Deliverance_. Dez vaulted the barricade and ran at them, roaring war cries. 

The Marines turned, and brought up their weapons even as two of their number fell to the hail of automatic Lasher fire. A bolt slashed through Dez's abdomen, blowing most of his organs into stringy paste. He cried in pain but kept running. A Marine swung a combat knife. He blocked it with his armor and put a Lasher round into the man's chest, killing him. A sergeant smashed him down with the butt of a plasma pistol, and Dez picked the dropped combat knife and sliced the sergeant's arm off at the elbow. He roared in rage and lifted a chainsword. 

Dez slumped against the bridge stanchion, holding his insides in with one hand. A trickle of blood escaped the corner of his mouth, and he scrabbled at the clasps of his helmet with the other hand. The marine hesitated, letting Dez look him in the eye. He too removed his helmet, showing a scarred and battered face with two service studs in his brow. Dez tossed his helmet at his feet, the glowing optics staring at the sergeant.

"You fight well, but not as well as the Emperor's Chosen." said the marine. He raised the chainsword, and Dez gripped the plasma pistol he'd dropped.

"You fight well," agreed Dez. "But your guard is too low."

He aimed between the Marine's legs, and fired a single shot. The sergeant turned, just in time to see the white-hot globule strike the first pack of C-12 on the bridge.

Kyra watched from altitude, eyes widening as the streak of plasma struck the explosives, and the entire structure vanished in a fireball.

"Too many dead heroes." said Sal slowly, and Kyra nodded.


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## Ordo Xeno Commander

Brilliant Dirge. Marine's getting owned, there's a first hahahah


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## deathbringer

I refuse to read any more but i have to
You have just killed off my favourite charactor 
In a totally kick ass way but he's still dead
Its brilliant dirge


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## Shogun_Nate

Another thrilling entry! Heh heh heh... It's sad that Dez kicked the bucket but damn he did it with style and that's the best anyone can hope for! Keep up the good work bud!

Good luck and good gaming,

Nate


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## Dirge Eterna

Thanks guys! Hey, Nate, when is your fic going to be updated?
---------------------------------------------------------------

"What now?"

"We do what we always do. _Ke'shal'dam_."

"I'll make the call."

A Kytharin was trained from birth in the art of _Ke'shal'dam_, literally _Reform with Allies_, it meant to retreat from all fronts and reform into an army, ready to strike back. The tactic was unorthodox, frowned upon by most, and declared tactically suicide, but it had saved their race on more then a dozen occasions they faced certain doom. After Waaagh! Toof-fist nearly obliterated Te'Kiel, a massive reindustrialization of the outlying colony worlds had produced strange fruit. Sixteen Dreadnoughts, each as large as _Serenity_, as well as over two hundred battle cruisers and destroyers, hung in high orbit over a planet simply called P3X-029. A single Dreadnought was covered from prow to cowlings with golden scriptwork. _Wrath of Ages_ was visible on it's side.

_Deliverance_ passed through an orange biofilter, the crew and soldiers inside flinching as the field burned all impurities from their bodies and the ship. The Marauding Fleet, as it was known, was the last-resort homeworld of the Kytharin race, and it's inhabitants had spent so long aboard the purified atmosphere of their vessels they had become more susceptible to disease. All outsiders had to be decontaminated. 

The ramp dropped, and the Stormserpents filtered off to find more of Aay'han's survivors. Izi hustled a few wounded off to the infirmary. A Kytharin covered from head to toe in a sealed suit approached Kyra as she stepped off the ship's cooling, ticking ramp. He had a series of twittering mechanical arms drooped over his shoulders from his back, and a bundle of optics glared from his helmet.

"Hello." he said in an odd, mechanical voice. "Welcome to the Marauding Fleet, outsider."

"My thanks." said Kyra. "Did you transmit the call to _Ke'shal'dam_?"

The Marauder nodded. "I oversaw it personally. Ven'couyt is undetected due to it's EMP fields, but the moons have evacuated. The Valkyrie has expressed an interest in joining us, and the survivors from Aay'han are en route. Te'Kiel and Quet'zal are currently shutting down their forges and will join us shortly. We have received no word from Kel'de, though we have something of interest."

The Marauder led Kyra and her crew to a console set into the hangar wall. He typed in a code, and a video-feed popped up, grainy with SDF feedback. It showed a Guardsman's weapon, obviously mounted on the man's helmet. The date showed it was from the previous day. 

"Sarge?" asked the man. A low hissing noise made him whip around. The video crackled with feedback as the trooper removed his helmet. He looked into the camera, eyes wide with fear.

"To garrison command, they're everywhere out here... I can hear them, stalking me. The sergeant, the lieutenant, they're all dead! It's just me! It's only me!"

A crack of sound and he dropped the camera. A dozen soft _cracks_ Kyra recognized as silenced Impaler fire sounded, and the Guardsman dropped dead in front of the camera, blood pouring from his shattered skull. A Kytharin in midnight black armor with red cloths tied around it looked into the camera.

"_Kel'de erestince_." he said simply, and smashed the camera.

Kyra looked up. "Kel'de resists." 

The Marauder nodded. "Yes. The guerrillas are quite adept. I estimate only 6.4% losses at a standard rate of attrition." 

Sal smiled. "Hard devils, to be sure."

The ship's loudspeakers crackled.

[To all hangar decks, incoming ships, repeat incoming ships from the Quet'zal moons.]

"Excuse me." said the Marauder. He turned and rushed away. A ship that for all intents and purposes looked like a pile of junk smacked down on the pad with enough force to break pieces of it off. The drop ramp clanged down and a dozen Kytharin walked down onto the deck, armored and armed with a motley collection of scrap and sharp-edged junk. Their leader's helmet was decorated with feathers and blades.

"Reavers." said Sal. Kyra nodded in disgust. She motioned and the crew confronted the Reaver commander at the foot of his ship.

"Sister." said the Reaver slowly. He gave a shallow bow. Kyra raised a fist and smashed him down, hitting his head on the deck hard enough to make him cough blood. He wiped it away with one hand and swallowed painfully. 

"I deserved that." he said.

"You sure as hell did. You're god damned brave showing your face around here."

The Reaver licked his lips. "I cannot condone the actions of my captains, but we are still _Kytha'yaim_. We answer the call."

"You answer nothing. Get out of here." said Sal. 

The Reaver shook his head and motioned with a hand. 

"We are here to make amends."

Kyra raised her lip in a snarl. "Amends."

"Let me explain. I am Skar of the Reavers. Our leader was killed in battle on his ship, the _Meathook_. His last request was we attempt to contact the Council and parley for peace. He told us a number of truths, the most profound the truth we had been killing and torturing our own kind, not the traitors and deserters our founder led us to believe."

Zekt cocked his weapon. "Your founder?"

Skar shook his head quickly. "A Kytharin named Urkratas. He said a man named Adrian Black informed him the Council and it's citizens were traitors and evil and must be punished. I now curse his name thrice over, for the pain we caused. We are not worthy of redemption, though we ask for it."

He rolled up his sleeves, showing a series of long, jagged cuts in his forearms that vanished up his armor onto his upper arms. Greenish slashes marked the cuts. Kyra's eyes widened. 

"You.. the _Irk'eshes_."

The Marks of Shame, as they were known, were the highest form of dishonor and self-cleansing a Kytharin could endure. They were performed with a poisoned dagger, without anesthetic. 

Skar's crew rolled up their own sleeves, showing similar marks. 

"He tells the truth." said a voice. Kyra turned, to be dazzled by the shimmering aura of The Valkyrie. The ship bearing the insignia of Pax Mons stood behind her on the hangar tarmac.

"They mean no harm." she said. Kyra looked at the ground.

"Izi will kill you." she said. Skar nodded.

"I will happily accept a challenge to the pits, as will all of my crew. We are suicide warriors, without fear or surrender."

Sal and Zekt lowered their weapons.

Kyra sighed. "You will keep to your own ships, your own crews, and will fight on your own. You will not approach other Kytharin ships or forces, and will leave Kytharin space never to return at the end of this."

"We accept your terms." said Skar. "I speak for the Crews."

[Hangar bay, ready, ships inbound from Quet'zal relay. Wait, wait. To arms! Reaver ships, hundreds of them!]

Skar keyed the console comms.

[Belay that! Allies, allies inbound!]

[Who is this!?] demanded the comms officer.

[The Speaker of the Reavers. We come to fight, and die.]

There was a moment of hesitation, and then,

[Belay call to arms, repeat do not fire on the Reavers. They're pulling back, pulling back to fleet order.]

Skar handed Kyra a slip of paper. It read "QUET'ZAL 03'45'29, 94'12'36"

"What's this?" she asked slowly. Skar swallowed, his eyes showing a slight wetness at their corners.

"The bodies." he said. "Gods help us, the bodies of our captives."


----------



## waltzmelancholy_07

Ei Dirge... I don't understand the numbers on the paper that Skar handed to Kyra.... Anyway... Nice work!:victory:...


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## deathbringer

Neither do i
What do they mean
Is it the number killed by the reevers or something
Brilliant cant wait to read more


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## zboy234

If I'm not mistaken those are latitude and longitude i belive, and since Dirge is a pilot he could make sense of them, I can't:grin:


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## Dirge Eterna

Longitude and Latitude is correct, the spot on Quet'zal where the Reavers buried their victims. Thanks for the feedback!


----------



## deathbringer

ahhhh 
now i understand
i got confused between skar and sal
lol redemption is making a little more sense 
never saw it coming tho
great stuff dirge


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## waltzmelancholy_07

Ooooh.... Now I get it... That was a nice twist:victory::biggrin:... And I forgot to ask you earlier... The reavers... Were you inspired by the movie "Serenity"?.... And another thing... In you character sketch template... What are "Quirks"?.....


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## Dirge Eterna

Quirks are little oddities I explain throughout the story that adds a sense of personality to the characters. I've referenced the box under Kyra's bunk several times, once when they stopped at Aay'han, and the second time when Lars attacked Kyra as they escaped Vesperia.

Update tonight or tomorrow.


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## dark angel

Awesome Awesome Awesome lol i love it i love it i love it please more and one thing- why does Skar call Kyra 'sister'? or have i missed the part saying why?


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## Dirge Eterna

Just a general term of welcome. I use it as someone just greeting someone. I think one of the Slayers calls her "Sister" at one point too. It's basically saying that all Kytharin are together. From a Reaver, it's more like an insult, but the tradition lingers on.
----------------------------------------------------------------------

HIGH ORBIT, KEL'DE, Day 67 of the Seige.

"Status report."

"Nothing, sir. Jump points are clean."

Admiral Vulk turned as the viewscreen flicked on. Inquisitor Black glared at him.

"Admiral." said Black. "How goes the campaign?"

Vulk shook his head slowly. "Slowly. The rebels are heavily entrenched and the local fauna and flora are making progress difficult. Our casualties are-"

Black cut him off. "I care not about our casualties, Admiral. The High Lords grow impatient. Destroy the planet and move on. We cannot waste time."

Vulk nodded. "Aye, sir."

The screen flicked off, and Vulk turned to his XO.

"Arm viral bombs and bring us into bombardment position."

The massive bulk of the _Emperor's Judgement_ moved into position above the planet, scattering it's escort fleet. All their guns were pointed at Kel'de, ready to deliver the deadly payload of Life Eater shells.

And so they were wholly unprepared for the sudden appearance of seventeen _Serenity_-class Dreadnoughts and over five hundred frigates, cruisers, and destroyers that suddenly jumped into orbit all around them. The modar overloaded and blew out. The Kytharin started firing almost as soon as they dropped out of Relay space, and reaped a grim tally among the Battlefleet Solar, which now numbered only a hundred and twenty ships.

Vulk spun his own vessel around, brushing aside the wreckage of his escorts and boosting across the planet's terminus line, hoping to slingshot around the world and escape.

"Arm virus bombs!" he roared. "This world burns!"

The XO stood up, his head bloody. "Sir, projectile incoming!"

"Just one?"

"Yes, sir. It's too big to be a slug."

The cracked viewscreen sizzled and a haze of static appeared.

"Admiral." said a voice, distorted by the reception.

"This is Admiral Vulk of the SDS _Emperor's Judgement_. Who is this?" demanded Vulk.

The interference steadied for a moment, and Vulk looked into the eyes of a Slayer in black armor, holding an SDF trooper's helmet cam towards himself.

"The voice of Kel'de, Admiral." said the Slayer.

Vulk's eyes widened suddenly. 

"Enjoy the fireworks, Admiral. Kel'de resists. Out."

The screen went blank.

Vulk dropped to his knees. His XO looked up.

"It's an anti-ship missile! Ground-fired! We have to move, now! Orders, sir!"

Vulk shook his head slowly, shattered by the enormity of the things he was witnessing.

The XO turned to address the bridge crew. "Abandon ship! Abandon-"

A QI-227Z _Javelin_-class anti-ship missile struck the Redemption-class ship between the engines and the bridge, killing most of the crew instantly. Admiral Maxim Vulk had one moment to look in horror at the vastness of space suddenly open above him, and then he and his command crew were sucked into the void, silent screams loosing the last of their breath.

_Deliverance_ flashed past the ships, thousands of landers and fighter-bombers behind it. The assembled invasion force came directly down on the SDF garrisons, and within ten minutes every single SDF position on the planet was under siege. 

Kyra stomped down the ramp, followed by her crew, and sixty members of the Knights of Silence. A trooper yelped in shock as they stormed over the loose wire gates of the SDF garrison. Men milled around, and the Knights laid into them with guns and blades. A man wailed in pain, most of his lower limbs gone. Kyra put a round through his head and moved on. Sal had a sledgehammer from somewhere, and was systematically bashing his way through the back of a bunker, Vaiq close behind. Zekt and Izi ran past, a Heavy Incinerator gripped between them. The SDF soldiers quickly became disorganized and began to rout. Men tripped over each other in an attempt to get away from the blood-splattered Kytharin, running headlong into their own minefields and dying in droves as the weapons detonated.

"No prisoners!" roared Jesc. She stood on a pile of SDF dead, fending off a half-dozen soldiers armed with chainswords. 

"No surrender!" answered the Knights. Their cries drove the SDF's morale even lower, men falling to their knees and begging. The Knights did not even slow down. 

A dozen shapes flitted into the compound, gunfire and grenades flying from their midst with an almost omnipresent precision. Their leader stopped at Kyra's position. He wore black armor, with red cloths tied around his brow and limbs.

"Kel'de resists, sister." he said. Kyra nodded.

"That you do, and you do it well. The Marauders have joined us, they're in orbit. The Reavers as well."

"Reavers." spat the Slayer. "That does explain the SDF fleet running. We've been trying to get the flagship away from it's escorts for weeks. We only had one shot, one missile."

"Very good shot, by the way. The ship came down on the southern continent. The Marauders sent down scavenger teams."

"Thank you, but the guidance system did most of the work. The name's Ayk."

"Kyra." 

The pair shook hands for a moment, which seemed ludicrous to Kyra, in the midst of a battle, but then Ayk stood and roared to his guerrillas.

"Slayers! For Kel'de!"

The rebels roared back.

"Kel'de resists!"

One tossed a fat satchel charge through a window, and a moment later the SDF command bunker blew out in a spectacular explosion. Sal and Vaiq walked up, both covered in dust and gore. Vaiq held his sword, which was stained red by the SDF's blood. Zekt and Izi followed them, the twin barrels of the Heavy Incinerator smoldering.

"Final count is twenty-two." said Sal. "Between me and Scotchland here."

"I only got nine." said Kyra.

Zekt chuckled, and dropped the Incinerator with a _clang_. "Got twenty-five, torched the supply bunker."

Ayk stood up and put a hand on Zekt's shoulder. 

"Three hundred and fifty-six, spawnling."

Zekt watched the Slayer go back to his guerrillas. 

"I still won." said Zekt at his back, after he was out of earshot. Izi gave him a light shove.

"Ignore this great liar," she said. "He only got twelve before I had to pull him out of the bunker before the SDF gutted him."

Dozens of Kytharin resupply ships and drop-pods began to fall from the fleet, and the Slayers raised a ragged cheer. 

"Showers and ales, on the Council!" roared Ayk. 

"Shower and ales, on the Council." agreed Kyra. She turned to her crew.

"Get packed. We're not staying long. There's still Aay'han."


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander

Awesome stuff Dirge. Ruthlessness at its best :grin:


----------



## waltzmelancholy_07

Men, this is just awesome:grin:...


----------



## Shogun_Nate

Heya bud! Excellent work as always. I love how this story is going. As for my own work, I hope to have something up this weekend depending on how things go with my BL entry. I've pretty much set everything else on the backburner to work on it and start work on the Heresy Short comp as well. It shouldn't be too much longer now though!

Good luck and good gaming,

Nate


----------



## Dirge Eterna

I hate today. I had a bunch of stuff for tonight (read: go to the bookstore and buy nothing, but read all sorts of stuff), and it all fell through with five words.

"Will you stay home tonight?"

Me, being me, and not wanting to be frightened out of my own home by a RAWR FIRIN MAH LAZOR girlfriend, said yes. So I'm hanging out here for the time being, and since there's nothing but cold lasagna and milk to eat, I'm living on Cheetos tonight and am really high on cheese dust, so I decided to double-update.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Kyra sat at _Deliverance_'s command console, feet up on the controls. Zekt lazily spun the ship between the massive hulks of the Dreadnoughts.

"What's going on now?" he asked. Kyra rolled her shoulders and looked at him.

"I don't know. Fleet's en route to Aay'han in six hours. We've got to liberate it before we move on to Port Royal."

"Aay'han is going to be hard."

"Maybe not. The warrior clans started a ground war against the Astartes almost as soon as we left. They might still fight on."

"Or they might not."

Kyra rolled her eyes. "You're a very pessimistic _Kytha'yaim_, you know that? Gods, I've got a stomach ache. Did you eat all the antiacids after you failed to impress Dez back on Ilios?"

"You sure that stomach ache's from the food? I know you and Sal are _sleeping over_ more and more often. You father still hasn't figured it out?"

"It's from the food, _vi'kit_. No, as I said, my father could probably care less."

"I still think he's going to hang you by your guts when he finds out you're sleeping around with your own crew."

"My own crew? Just one of them. Izi's flat out, Vaiq's a bit too crazy."

"Why not me? I'm mysterious."

Kyra eyed him. "I find keeping secrets attractive, actually."

Zekt cocked his head. "You do?"

"In attractive people, yes. You're out, _mir'osik_."

Zekt grumbled and turned back to the controls. 

Vaiq walked onto the bridge, carrying a small bag of datachips.

"Got new fleet communiques." he said. He plugged the first one into the holotable, and the image blossomed into focus. Zekt and Kyra turned to watch. The image showed Aay'han. More then half the world was shaded green. A small portion was red. A grey ring marked the border of the red zone.

[Current status on Aay'han], said a computerized voice. [Victory certain, protracted campaign. Advise use of additional force to change to Victory certain, single strike.]

"So that's the skinny." said Zekt.

"Yeah. We're deploying just south of the main Astartes line. Evidently out of the three hundred some that landed, only about seventy of them are holding the line near their drop zones. They're pushed back, but we have to give them the knock out."

"Damn this entire campaign. Why can't they just leave us alone?"

"They're the SDF, Kyra. They've always been like that."

Kyra turned. "How many, Zekt? How many has this campaign alone cost us? Dead? Crippled? There's no mercy or peace with the SDF. They're going to keep coming until we destroy them, or die trying. We need an ultimatum. No more games."

-----------------------------------------------------------

Sixty thousand parklicks from the fleet's anchor above Kel'de, Inquisitor Adrian Black stood on the observation deck of _Elysian Fields_, the largest warship ever created by Mars. It mounted a half-dozen Nova cannons in a circular rotary shape, and when fired in sequence, he was told, could destroy an entire planet. He sipped a glass of liquor and thought how wonderful it would be, standing above the burning Kytharin homeworld, sipping the drink and praising his Emperor. 

"Do they know?" he asked Regulus. The Grey Knight shook his head, then stopped.

"One of them." he said slowly.

"The girl." spat Black.

"Find her, and kill her."

Regulus nodded, and turned to leave for the hangar decks.

"Your will be done, Inquisitor Black." said Regulus.

"The Emperor's will be done, Grey Knight." responded Black.

But even as he said it, he pictured the Kytharin that had stymied his every effort dying on the point of Regulus' halberd, and smiled lightly. 

He turned to the windows, and poured himself another drink.

"As the Emperor wills." he said, to no one in particular.


----------



## deathbringer

Great work Dirge
I'm back into my state of confusion
I have no idea what the hell will happen
Actually i have one idea but its wrong
Great stuff


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## Dirge Eterna

PM me that idea on the pronto! I love to get predictions on my stuff, it makes me feel like people are really getting into this stuff. Which pads my ego rather nicely.

^^


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander

Haha, another brilliant chapter Dirge. Keep it up, I am intrigued.


----------



## dark angel

Once again two more great pieces i love this, DA


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## Dirge Eterna

Kyra yawned. She looked at the board. Vaiq was on the other side of the small mess table, contemplating his pieces. He reached out and moved his Slayer across the board, in line with one of Kyra's Knights.

"Beat that." said Vaiq.

Kyra sipped her drink and moved a Spawnling up to the piece. Vaiq rolled his eyes and ran the Slayer sideways, taking Kyra's Dreadnought with some relish. Kyra choked in her glass as she realized the move. Iricide was a game, played on a checker-painted board with small pieces of glass or ivory. Vaiq was surprisingly adept at it, and had defied her every attempt to beat him.

"You win again." she said. Vaiq nodded.

"It's a tough game. You'll get the hang of it."

Zekt hung over the low wall leading to the galley, watching.

"It's a bullshit game. Droughts is a man's game."

Vaiq began to place the glass pieces carefully into the board's hollow interior, packing the game up.

"Funny," he said. "I thought it was for people to thick to understand Iricide."

They both laughed, and Vaiq left the mess. 

"So what now, boss?" asked Zekt. "Are we really going to just run headlong into this war? Aay'han is going to take the fleet _weeks_. Weeks we could spend on a beach on Tranquility if we wanted."

Kyra got up from the table, walking with Zekt back to the bridge.

"I can't see us on a beach. Armor and guns and sand. And you'd be out drinking with Vaiq and chasing women while the rest of us stayed on ship planning."

"So off to the next hellhole, then?"

"Yup."

Sal turned in the pilot's chair as they walked in, relinquishing the seat to Zekt.

"What's this about a beach?" he asked. Zekt sighed.

"I wanted to take a nice, relaxing vacation. Someplace with hot weather and hotter waitresses. Relaxing."

Sal looked at Kyra, and she smiled, amused.

"Sescara's nice this time of year." he said.

"Is it?" asked Kyra. 

"Yeah. We got a distress call from an SDF Gas Mine in the upper atmosphere. Fleet needs someone to check it out."

Zekt turned around. "Sescara? What's that place like?"

Kyra walked to the map table, flicking it on. 

"Sounds nice." she said.

"Really? Can we stay there?" asked Zekt.

"Yeah, sure. Population's about twenty-seven hundred, average rainfall is zero, surface temperature has a low of about three hundred sixty degrees Celsius."

Zekt sighed and turned back to the controls.

"Why do we need to help out the pinkies anyways?" he asked.

"Because we're not helping." said Kyra. "We're going to land, steal anything of value on the station, and then blow it up."

"Ah, nice. A raid mission."

Kyra nodded. "Sanctioned by the Council, no less. It's got a stamp and everything."

"I better go check the ammo." said Sal. He turned and left.

"You can borrow my pillaging shovel." replied Zekt.

---------------------------------------------

The Sescara Z-207 Hydrogen/Helium Gas Mine hung in low orbit over the planet of the same name. It was connected to a large refinery complex in high orbit by a thick cable. The refinery kept the mine from tumbling to the planet, and the mine kept the refinery from flying off into space. But when _Deliverance_ dropped in-system, the mine hung at an unnatural angle, a vast hole in one side of it. The refinery was smoldering, and gasses floated around it. Zekt cut the ship's engines to keep them from igniting the flammable atmosphere, using the Repulsors to drift close enough to the station. 

"Comm check, clear?" voxed Kyra. Zekt hit the comm pad.

"Yep. Copying."

"Alright. If we aren't back in six hours, then act like you normally do. Except smarter. Braver. More mature, for god's sake."

Zekt shook his head. "I'm the most mature person I know."

"That speaks volumes for those you are around. Away team out."

Kyra, Sal, and Vaiq floated down into the shattered station, small jump-jets on the backs of their Lancer armor keeping them on course. Sal landed lightly, Kyra right behind. Vaiq smacked into the station with enough force to leave two dents in the metal, and he crept to the outer airlock.

"Alright, now see here." he said smoothly. He gripped a remote charge in one hand and stuck it to the airlock door.

"What about hacking it, so we _don't_ vent this place?" asked Sal.

"Rapid entry." said Vaiq, but he removed the charge and allowed Sal to step up and slice the door. It whooshed open with a cloud of escaping air, and the trio crammed into the airlock.

"Alright." said Kyra. "Now we hope some _mir'osik_ with a grenade launcher didn't see that."

The door to the station opened, and dark shapes fell into the airlock. Sal yelped and fell backwards as the bodies fell onto him. There were three of them, each killed by precision cuts of what looked like blades or axes.

Sal shoved the bodies off and stood up, visibly shaken.

"What the hell?" asked Vaiq. He knelt down to examine them.

"It's not a forged blade." he said. "There's too much shredding. Might be bone? But what could do that?"

"A few things." said Kyra. "But most of them I'd like to keep at arm's reach."

Her mind flashed uncomfortably to the Infected from Bacilla and she winced.

"Gotcha. Guns up and heads down, then."

They passed the bodies, moving deeper into the mine. Spotlamps swept the wreckage. Panels from the ceiling and walls were gone, creating black holes that were filled with imaginary creatures in Kyra's thoughts. 

The station's lights were barely working, flickering on and off. Sal took the lead from Kyra, brandishing a Lasher in front of him. 

"Bridge is twelve meters ahead." he whispered, even over the sealed comm-net.

The doors were sealed, the small window splattered with red gore.

Something dripped from the ceiling, landing on Vaiq's shoulderpad. He groaned and wiped it off.

"Blood?" he asked. Then he looked up.

"Oh, shit!" he yelped. Kyra and Sal looked up. A pool of blood formed a dark spot on the ceiling, seeping through a crack in the metal.

"Bodies another level up, then." said Sal.

"Keep moving." ordered Kyra. They moved on, opening the doors to the bridge.

A man in a grey uniform with golden edging sat in the command chair, coughing. Every time he coughed, a spurt of blood pumped from the rent in his chest.

"He didn't.. get you." said the man. Kyra approached him with a pistol in one hand.

"Who?" asked Sal.

"That grey devil. He came here, killed everyone. Two hundred and sixty men and women, dead."

Vaiq looked up. "Not bone. A power field. Energy weapon."

Kyra whipped around. "Everyone out! Now!"

And then Regulus the Grey Knight stepped from the outer airlock door, his pristine armor covered in gore and blood. It hissed from the energized blade he clutched.

"I am the Hammer." intoned Regulus. "I am the Point of His Spear. I am the Flight of His Arrows. I am the Shield He Holds."

"You... are the murderer of innocents." said the mine's commander. He coughed, sending another spurt of blood down his front. Regulus shot him dead.

"There are no innocents." he said. "Only degrees of the guilty."

"We aren't your enemies." said Kyra. "Why can't the SDF leave us alone? Stay at their goddamned borders?!"

Regulus said nothing more, but raised his halberd, and charged.


----------



## dark angel

WOW i like it!


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander

Awesome, I want to see this fight, it is going to be epic.


----------



## Dirge Eterna

Just got back from Kemble. Food's mediocre, but their beer's great. Well, their tap is great. You know what I mean. 
-----------------------------------------------------------------

Kyra pivoted out of the way, letting the Grey Knight's momentum send him crashing through the doorway out onto the landing pad. Vaiq and Sal jumped through the door, Kyra following. Regulus turned from the edge of the pad, seeming to stare down into the abyss. The planet loomed below, them being so far up in the atmosphere they could see the curvature of it. 

"Xenos." said Regulus. "Of course you will not fight with honor."

Sal cocked the Lasher. "More honor then you. We don't kill innocents."

Regulus smirked. "Of course not. How many innocents were on Threshia? Or Ilios? How many, massacred by your armies?"

Kyra raised her Impaler. "You started this war, Imperial. Don't try and shift the blame."

"Enough talk." growled Regulus. He sprang forward, sweeping the halberd at knee height. Kyra jumped high, smashing his face with the butt of the Impaler. Regulus roared and punched her in the chest with his other hand, so hard it would have killed her instantly had the Lancer armor not stopped his fist. Even so, she catapulted backwards and struck the doorway leading into the station, groaning.

Vaiq ducked under another swing and brought the sword up, a jury-rigged emitter at it's base fizzing with barely restrained power. The halberd met it in mid-air and the weapons sparked and crackled. Sal leapt sideways and kicked Regulus in the knee, sending him down. The Grey Knight turned and batted Sal backwards, extending his revolution still farther and kicking Vaiq's legs out from under him. He raised the halberd to gut him, and Kyra smashed into his chest, throwing him backwards.

Regulus leapt to his feet, his armor ringing as Sal fired Impaler bolts into it. He shot back with the Storm Bolter on his wrist and Sal flipped backwards, bolter fire gouging scars into his armor.

He smashed into Kyra, making her take a half-dozen steps back. The halberd came around, and she extended the gauntlet-mounted knife, stabbing him through the arm. He growled in rage and pain, slowly reaching with the other arm to grab Kyra's wrist and pull it out of the wound, his ridiculous strength surprising the Kytharin. He twisted Kyra's arm to the side, making it _pop_ as it dislocated. She yelped in pain.

Vaiq swiped his own blade across the back of Regulus' knees, making him stagger backwards slightly before his wounds clotted almost instantly. Kyra crawled backwards, pulling her shoulder back into place with a wet _shlick_. She groaned in pain, rubbing the torn muscles, and stood up. Regulus whipped around, smashing his gauntlet into Vaiq's face and sending him to the floor, his helmet optics cracked.

Sal, the Lasher in his hand, vaulted over a chunk of fallen ironwork and fired. At such a close range, the hail of shurikan tore away everything lower then Regulus' elbow on his Storm Bolter arm. The marine bellowed, more anger then pain, and brought his massive weapon around, slashing off Sal's augmetic arm, as well as cutting the Lasher cleanly in two. Sal rode the blow across, not feeling the metal limb's death, and smacked his elbow into Regulus' face. The marine's nose broke with a sickening _snap_. Regulus brought his knee up, able to kick Sal away thanks to his larger stature.

"I am the Hammer." said Regulus. He planted a boot on Kyra's chest, her vision still blurry from her shoulder wound. He drew the weapon back, preparing to stab it through the toughened seal around her neck. 

"You're a loony." said Vaiq. He stepped over Kyra, blocking the weapon as it came hurtling down. The two blades locked together again, and the power conduit attached to Vaiq's sword fizzled.

"Oh, shite." he said, and then it failed completely. The Nemesis weapon sheared right through the now-unpowered sword and slashed Vaiq from his eye to his stomach, opening his armor. Bright blood spattered Kyra and Regulus as the Kytharin fell, writhing. 

"No!" yelled Kyra. The gauntlet blade sprang out of it's mounting and stabbed through Regulus' boot. The Knight roared and sprang back on pure reflex. Kyra ducked his return swing, and nodded to Sal. 

Sal swept around, under the Knight's back, and shot out the power cables to his back with the Impaler. The backpack fell heavily, smashing Sal's fingers, and he dropped the Impaler. Regulus batted him away with the halberd's butt, but Kyra noticed his movements slow from blindingly quick to almost normal speed, the weight of his wargear finally paying the price. She dodged a swing at her shoulder, bending out of the way and enjoying Regulus' frustration. Sal was at the edge of the pad, desperately trying to stop the bleeding from Vaiq's wounds with his one hand. 

Kyra stepped around Regulus, the Grey Knight overextending his swing in frustration, and she kicked him in the back of the leg, where Vaiq had slashed his knees. The wound reopened and Regulus went down on one knee. Kyra planted one hand on his shoulder, and swept down, grabbing the broken haft of Vaiq's sword. Regulus got up, a hand reaching around to throw her off the pad, and she leapt over him, for a fleeting moment catching the surprise in his eyes. Kyra drew the broken sword back to plant it in his head.

And he kicked her as she came down, tossing her like a ragdoll against the wall leading into the base. The sword fell from her grip, clanking along the deck. She felt a surge of pain and knew at least one of her ribs had cracked from the impact.

Regulus stomped across the deck almost casually. His nose was shattered, blood covered his face and armor, almost none of it his. His left arm was gone, shredded by Lasher fire, and there were holes in his armor where a blade or Impaler round had struck, but his eyes held more rage then Kyra had ever seen in a single being before. He drew the Halberd back to strike her head off with one blow.

"As The Emperor wills." said Regulus. "So do I purge the Xenos from his sight."

He stopped suddenly, a look of confusion passing over his face. He blinked rapidly, and then turned slowly to stare. The lower half of Vaiq's sword was embedded in his back, a spurt of blood pouring from the wound it had made. Vaiq sat upright at the edge of the pad, gasping, his arm still extended in the throwing motion.

"Take that, arsehole." he said, and then he toppled back to the deck, unconscious.

Kyra slowly got to her feet as Regulus pulled the sword from his back and tossed it away. He turned to face her, his face pale with blood loss. 

"A Grey Knight never surrenders." said Regulus. He raised the halberd to continue the fight, but his arm quivered as the wounds began to affect him.

"I never asked for your surrender." growled Kyra. She sidestepped the clumsy blow, ignoring the chorus of pain from her arm and ribs, and stabbed the gauntlet blade through his throat as he staggered.

Regulus coughed wetly as the fountain of his lifeblood poured from the wound. Kyra dragged the blade sideways, opening his entire throat, and let him fall to the deck, a dark pool forming around him as blood poured from his shattered frame. 

"Frakking asshole." she said quietly, and removed her helmet, clipping it to her belt. She held her wounded arm and spat onto the Grey Knight, hoping he was still alive enough to feel the globule strike the back of his head. Kyra staggered over to Sal, rolling him over. 

"Did- did we win?" asked Sal. "Because this would make a really _osik'la_ afterlife."

"We won." said Kyra. "It's over. He's dead."

Sal sighed. "Good... I knew we could take him."

Then he passed out. Kyra keyed the comms and Zekt brought the ship down, a move he had previously considered, but the gas clouds and acidic vapors around the station had made it almost impossible. But now, they could care less. A plume of flames followed _Deliverance_ as it settled onto the pad, and Zekt and Izi ran out, helping Vaiq onboard. His eyes flickered open and shut. Kyra picked Sal up, her good arm around his waist, and they clambered onto the ship.


----------



## deathbringer

Damn i thought it might be Vaiq
Dirge even though this is your story you have to kill someone 
haha
Brilliant stuff 
i think thats ur best scene so far 
amazing work


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## waltzmelancholy_07

Damn!:shok:... That was just....... :victory:Great work!:grin:...


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander

Snap, GK got owned. Brilliant Dirge, as usual hahah. I love your fight scenes, so realistic and desperate.

BTW, here's Ghosts, my 409th Story. Ghosts


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## Dirge Eterna

Thanks guys. 
-----------------------

Kyra slowly opened her eyes, taking in the blue-tinted medbay. She shook her head slowly, clearing it, and tapped the glass. Izi looked up, setting down a dataslate, and consulted the readout next to the tank. A smile played across her face, and she tapped the controls. The tank drained with a vague sucking noise, and Kyra fell wetly to the floor. A _whir_ emanated from the upper reaches of the medbay and the round tube of glass was sucked into the ceiling, leaving Kyra on the base of the tank, the med-gel dripping off her.

"Gods, but I hate those things." said Kyra. Izi gathered a towel and Kyra's clothes from a table and tossed her the towel. 

"You may hate them, but it did a job on your ribs." said Izi. "Just take it easy for a few days and you'll be fine."

"What about Sal and Vaiq?" asked Kyra. She scrubbed at herself with the towel, removing the oily medium.

Izi took on a pained expression. "Sal's injuries aren't that bad, he's got a concussion, two broken fingers, and some scrapes and bruises, and he'll need a new augmetic, but he'll be fine. I am worried about Vaiq though."

She pointed across the medbay to a second tank. Vaiq hung heavily in the liquid, a thick slab of synthflesh across his chest and stomach. Blood flecked the gel in the tank.

"He took a beating. His jaw's broken, his collarbone, two ribs, a punctured lung, one of his hearts was pretty much sliced in half- I did manage to seal it back together- and there's some pretty bad internal bleeding. By all rights he should have died on the landing pad."

"If nothing else he's a stubborn bastard." said Kyra.

"That he is." agreed Izi. 

"What's your opinion?"

Izi turned the pair around so Vaiq couldn't see them talking, even if he was conscious. 

"He's not going to make the Fleets." said Izi. "Unless I can stabilize him. He's still bleeding into his chest; I'm having to pump the blood out every few hours. Do you have an autosurgeon on this ship? I'm still getting used to it."

"No." said Kyra.

Izi licked her lips, turning back to Vaiq. 

"Then tell Zekt to step on it." she said, and wandered back to the medical station.

"Can't you just transfuse more blood to him?" asked Kyra.

"Not without opening that tank, and then he'll die from shock and trauma." said Izi. 

"What about the blood in the tank?" 

"Transfuse him with _his own blood_? There's not enough to keep a human alive, much less a _Kytha'yaim_."

Kyra shrugged on her shirt. "Can't hurt."

Izi got up and was attaching pumps to the tank when Kyra left, flicking the towel onto a counter near the door.

------------------------------------------------

Zekt was sleeping in the pilot's seat, snoring, with one arm draped over his eyes. Sal sat at the navigation console, a small set of tools on the console. He looked up and smiled a little lopsided, a result of the concussion.

"Hey." he said. "Are you OK?"

Kyra knelt next to him, watching him detach the now-useless upper half of his augmetic arm.

"I'm always OK." said Kyra. "But I am exhausted. Damn that Inquisitor."

"Yeah." agreed Sal simply. He twisted the limb, and it came free with a _click_ of connectors being separated. 

"Is that an omniconnector?" asked Kyra, looking at the metal socket affixed just below Sal's elbow, where the augmetics met flesh.

"Yeah." said Sal. 

"Typical Quet'zal." said Kyra. "They couldn't fork over a specialized one?"

Sal laughed and started packing up the toolkit.

"It's not all bad. I can hook _anything_ up to that joint. Arms, blades, guns, cutter torches, omnitools, breacher drills, automedicaes, grenade launchers, you name it. Do we have any of those things?"

Kyra took the toolbox from him and set it under the holotable. "Izi's got an automedicae, I think, but unless you want to lop it off, she's rather attached to it."

"How's Vaiq?" asked Sal, a note of worry entering his voice.

"Not good." admitted Kyra. "Izi's not sure on whether he'll make the fleet at this rate."

She turned to look at the sleeping Zekt and raised her voice to a shout.

"Too bad that idiot pilot can't speed this up!" she yelled. Zekt snapped awake and thrashed for a second.

"Excuse me." he said. "But I'm not the one who didn't pay for a quad-core drive."

He looked at the floor. "But, I may have a solution."

Kyra cocked her head. "By all means, enginseer. Enlighten us."

"Absinthe." said Zekt.

"Not really in a drinking mood right now." said Kyra. "Moving on."

"No, no. Absinthe in the coolant lines. It freezes at a much colder temperature, which means we can run the reactor faster, and cool it better. Do you have any on board?"

"We've got some from Threshia, yeah. About three liters. That won't even fill a tenth of the reactor lines."

"Do we have anything else?" asked Zekt. "Ammonia, nitrogen, fyceline?"

Sal looked up. "The Slayers' equipment from Ilios ran on Nitrogen. They left a good ten liters in fuel cans."

"Good, good. Anything else? Something that freezes colder than water."

"All the liquor in the galley." said Kyra. "Maybe another two liters."

"What does that make altogether?" asked Zekt. "Fifteen liters... that's about 70% of the lines. We can run..."

He counted off on his fingers, making mental calculations. 

"About 137% reactor power." he said.

"That shaves maybe what, three hours to the Marauding Fleet?" asked Sal. 

The trio looked at each other, and ran to the corners of the ship, gathering the liquids. Zekt pried open a ceiling panel and crawled into the ship's guts, cursing as the tight spaces closed in on him. Kyra and Sal stacked the nitrogen containers, then the two bottles of Absinthe, and finally a half-dozen bottles of various liquors and beers. Zekt ran a hose into the coolant lines and down onto the bridge as Sal stopped the engines. The ship slid out of Relay space and came to a stop, venting coolant as they pumped in the new fluids. 

"Alright, almost done." said Zekt. He pried the hose connector off and closed the coolant cap.

"Start her up." he yelled down. The hose dropped from his fingers and clanked off the deck, and Sal pressed the LIGHT ENGINES rune on the controls. The engines coughed, sputtered, and died.

"Great." said Kyra.

Zekt jumped from the open panel and sat in the pilot's seat.

"Might want to hold onto something." he said.

"Should I get out and push?" asked Sal. 

Izi shouldered open the door to the bridge. "Why the hell did we stop?"

"Hold on." said Zekt. He turned, and Kyra could make out the Relay drive panel glowing red with barely restrained energy.

"Do you have any idea-" began Izi. The ship lurched forward like a bolt of lightning, smashing back into Relay Space at a speed the engineers on Quet'zal would have declared them liars for bragging about. 

"Oh." said Izi.

"Yeah." said Zekt. "Coolant's good. We can hold at 140%, or push it at 160%."

"Push it." said Kyra. "As fast as you can."


----------



## deathbringer

ohhh tension lol
hehe
good stuff dirge really enjoying this story


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander

Wicked idea hahahahah. Very nice Dirge


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## Dirge Eterna

Sorry about the shortness of this, but I gotta run NOW!
-------------------------------------------------------

_Six hours later_

[TC request urgent landing coordinates to your x, copy?]

[Uh, copy clear, _Deliverance_. Divert to port side, pad 18.]

Zekt swept the vessel down over the startled heads of the enginseer and pilots, landing it near the doors leading into the ship. Because of the situations pilots and drop troops usually encountered, the hangar bays were outfitted with a full trauma and shock ward, complete with autosurgeons and syth-weavers. Izi and the medicae crew hurried Vaiq off into the ship's medical ward, other Kytharin nodding respectfully and moving out of the way. Sal and Kyra stepped down the ramp, Kyra carrying Regulus' left shoulder pad in one hand. Rek stood at the base of the ramp, a gaggle of technicians and fitters around him.

"My daughter." said Rek. "I heard of the fight on the gas mine. A horrible trick."

"Designed to lure us... me, out." she said. "That Inquisitor's got it in his head I'm gunning for him in person, _veer_."

"Are you?" asked Rek. He took the shoulder pad with a quiet reverence, running his fingers across the dried blood that clung to the elegant scrollwork.

Kyra gestured at the drops of Vaiq's blood that traveled across the deck to the trauma center.

"Yes." she said quietly.

"That doesn't suit you, _Ky'ika_. Remember the tenets of our creed."

A sudden rage gripped Kyra. She grabbed the pad back from Rek, the older Kytharin letting her take it. 

"And what do you know of the creed, father?" she snapped. "Honor, Valor, Courage, Duty, Justice. You chose which one, again?"

"Honor." said Rek, his lips growing to a snarl.

"Honor." growled Kyra. She pulled back her sleeve, revealing the single red tattoo on her arm. "Justice. It is _not_ justice to allow that madman to rampage through these systems unchecked. He will die. And I hope, desperately, that I'm the one holding the gun when he does."

"I would not deny you that." said Rek. He deflated, showing his age for one of the first and only times. "I am an old _Kytha'yaim_. I am allowed to be concerned for my daughter."

Kyra's anger left her, and she handed the pad back to Rek, suddenly ashamed. "I know, father... but it's so... unfair."

"Life is almost never fair, _Ky'ika_. It will hurt you in ways you will never see coming. Your only recourse it to hurt it back."

Kyra pinched the bridge of her nose and began to walk back up the ramp. Rek's mouth twitched into a smile.

"My daughter, no matter what, remember this." said Rek. Kyra turned at the top of the ramp.

"What's that?" asked Kyra.

Rek shrugged his cloak a little tighter. "Always take armor and weapons as trophies. Body parts begin to stink faster."

Kyra smiled and shut the ramp.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"Well, we're not going anywhere fast." said Zekt. He dropped a lump of metal and circuitry onto the table. Kyra glared at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"_That_ is the main coupling that goes from the reactor to the drives. I had to use a cutting torch to get it out. We're going to need a whole new set of couplings, and the coolant system fused almost as soon as I shut the drives down. We'll need to replace that too."

Kyra sighed and reached for a drink on the counter, her hand closing on air.

"Of course not." she said. "Poured _that_ into the coolant lines too."

Zekt snickered and left the fused connector on the table.


----------



## NurglingStomper

Wow this story is ..... AWESOME!!!! It's way better than some so called novels. You sir need to be a writer. GREAT job, please accept my rep as a way of thanking you for a good hour or so of excellent reading.


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## Dirge Eterna

Thanks lol. I actually only do this in my free time, through lots and lots of hair-pulling annoyance when something doesn't work the way I thought it would 

Update tonight or tomorrow. I might be glued to the TV playing Prototype.


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## Shogun_Nate

Bah!  I have a complaint! For the love of Gork and Mork, would you please stop being so damned prolific in your writing! Gads man! It would be one thing if it was drivel I could read over like the morning news but you keep putting up great stuff. Sigh..just means I'll have to take a chunk out of the weekend to catch up LOL!

Good luck and good gaming,

Nate


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## Dirge Eterna

Update now, as I got shafted by Best Buy >.<. They had a shipping error, and Prototype is going to be there tomorrow.

Curse you technology! Curse you!
-------------------------------------------------------------

"So how's Vaiq?" 

"I heard he's still in the ICU."

"Is Izi staying with him?"

"I think so. She wanted to make sure the medical staff know what they're doing."

Sal clipped the plates of his Flight armor back on and left, Kyra following. Zekt and a half-dozen enginseers walked the other way, towards the fused drives.

"_Ky'ika_?" asked one of the enginseers. Kyra turned, puzzled. The Kytharin wore a deep gray suit of Flight armor, covered in omniconnectors and tool belts. His helmet incorporated a heavy rebreather and blast goggles. 

"No way." said Kyra.

The enginseer took off his helmet, revealing a lighter-complexioned Kytharin with a HUD projector set into his face beside his left eye. The blue-tinted display overshadowed the eye, making it seem like they were two different colors. 

"Rav!" yelled Kyra. She ran back down the hallway to hug him, Rav setting down the heavy drive coils he was carrying.

"When did you get here?" she said. Rav was her older brother by five years, an engineer and shipwright on Te'Kiel.

"With the Te'Kiel fleets." said Rav. "We mined the Ring and left with everything we could."

The Ring was the massive orbital installation that circumnavigated Te'Kiel, and served as most of the shipyards and repair docks.

"But, how are you on _Serenity_? Why aren't you on your own ship?" asked Kyra. Rav mocked astonishment.

"Do you think father and I really hate each other that much? No, I wanted to see you two. Make sure you haven't killed yourself over something stupid. And your engineer wanted some help with the coils."

"_Veer'ika_ told you about the Inquisitor, then."

Rav nodded. "He did, but I think you're doing the right thing, at least for the moment."

"You'll have to stop by later, have a drink." said Kyra. 

"Maybe so." said Rav. "I do need to get back to the _Dawn Hammer_ at some point, so maybe tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night." agreed Kyra. Rav smiled and replaced his helmet, picking up the coils and following his fellows into the engine room.

"I take it back." she said to Sal as she walked onto the bridge. 

"_He's_ the one you need to watch out for." 

Sal chuckled. "Why's that?"

"My father might be old and overprotective, but Rav is _young_ and overprotective, and he has more metal in his fists then you do."

Sal shrugged. "As long as you're not suddenly _Kyhaldae_ I think we'll be fine."

Kyra leaned over the controls, watching the engine display. "I'm _not_, thankfully. Can you imagine?"

"What?"

"I wouldn't be able to _fight_. Gods, I'd have nothing to kill except time."

Sal laughed. "What a horrible fate that would be. That attitude must get you pretty far with everyone who's _not_ _Kytha'yaim_."

"Lars wasn't." said Kyra. The drive coil indicator changed from red to orange.

"Yeah, but you're forgetting you _alienated him, pissed him off, and then killed him._"

Kyra yawned. "He attacked me first. Self-defense kill."

Sal sat down at the holotable, activating the exterior displays. The dozens of Kytharin ships clustered around _Serenity_ glowed in the bridge lights. 

"Quite something." he said.

Kyra turned from watching the engine readout to look.

"How many Dreadnoughts do we have now?" she asked. Sal looked over the projection.

"Nineteen." he said. "Counting Te'Kiel's, which are more like two Dreadnoughts welded together."

The _Dawn Hammer_-class battleships were the largest ship ever built by the Kytharin, mounting the firepower of three Dreadnoughts, and the hangar space of four. Two massive Linear Accelerator barrels loomed from their prows, easily large enough to drive a Destroyer into.

"How much are those?" said Kyra.

"Thinking about upgrading?" asked Sal.

"Why not? We've got the money. Those guns put a round clean through an SDF battlegroup."

"I'll talk to Zekt. Those 150s are nonmod, right? They might not work with an Accelerator."

Nonmods, or Non-Modular weapons, were normally not used in Kytharin ships. In a universe of omniconnectors, retrofitters, and fully interchangeable wargear, things that were unique were often discarded in favor of the more reliable and readily available. 

"Yeah. But they were cheap, and I was poor. And they work rather nicely."

Kyra remembered the Manta above Macragge.

"What about the drill?" she said. "If we took it out then we could mount the Accelerator on it's base plate. The drill's an omniconnecter."

Sal cocked an eyebrow. "You want to ditch the drill?"

"The Manta was a one in a hundred occurrence, Sal. And an Accelerator could take it out in one shot."

Sal leaned back, arms folded across his chest. "It sounds good, in theory. You think Rav could scare up one?"

"If Rav can't acquire one, I'll go through Wes. He's got his fingers in arms trade."

"If Rav can't acquire what, now?" asked Rav. He stepped onto the bridge with Zekt, chewing on a sandwich. 

"An Accelerator." said Kyra. Zekt looked up.

"We get new toys? Gosh, like Spawning Day all over again!" he said, adding a childish edge to his voice. Rav chuckled and took another bite of the sandwich.

"Well," he said, spraying crumbs down his front. "I could get you one, but it'll cost you something fierce. Maybe three hundred thousand."

"Don't want to buy the whole fleet, Rav. Just the gun." said Kyra.

"It's got an extra magnet, fires twice for one bang."

"I'll pay two seventy five, tops."

Rav shrugged. "I'll talk to the quartermaster about it. It's a prototype model, he might let the price slide if you're going to test it."

A voice boomed over the loudspeakers, using a priority override to use even _Deliverance_'s sealed vox-net.

[Fleet jump to Aay'han system in thirty minutes, repeat fleet jump in thirty minutes. All cruisers proceed to Dreadnought grav-hooks. Dreadnoughts, proceed to _Dawn Hammer_-class grav-hooks. _Serenity_ TC out.]

"Grav-hooks." said Rav. "Why can't all ships just have the same Relay drive?"

The Kytharin ships often had multiple drives in a Fleet, ranging from _Deliverance_'s ridiculous 782.761K/S drive to the ponderous 556.53K/S on most pirate and raider vessels. The "standard" fleet drive was a 700K/S core. To balance them out, larger ships "attached" smaller ships to them, via tractor beams known as "grav-hooks". As soon as the largest ship jumped in-system, the other ships would break off and move into attack positions. The largest ships, like the _Dawn Hammer_, could hold Dreadnoughts like _Serenity_ in their grav-hooks. This did add drag, but Kytharin ships were among the fastest ever built. An SDF "Warp Engine", Kyra was told, averaged about 205.7K/S, and was fraught with danger. Since the Tau had traded their Relay technology away, the other races had expanded on it exponentially, with Kytharin and Squats leading the pack at their maximum speeds of 784.023K/S and 778.284K/S, respectively.

"782's are expensive, that's why." said Kyra. "Cost me six months' pirating and mercenary pay to earn one."

"Well, at least you didn't kill anyone."

Kyra smiled at the inside joke. As pirates, _Deliverance_'s crew had killed very few. It was a standing joke among the pirate fleets that a pirate that didn't kill his victims was basically just a Kytharin police force.

"It's a legitimate business." said Kyra. Piracy was perfectly legal in Kytharin space. If your ship was undergunned or too slow, you didn't value it enough to prevent such a condition. Fat trader ships from the SDF systems were especially vulnerable, and the Inquisition placed bounties on the heads of any Kytharin suspected of piracy. Which was basically all of them. Looting and plunder was Kytharin tradition, ever since the first Kytharin existed, other Kytharin had robbed them. The hub worlds were a set of alliances, but the numerous pirate raiders and mercenary fleets often scrapped amongst themselves.

"Either way, I best get back to the _Hammer_." said Rav. He took the last bite of the sandwich and hit the LIGHT ENGINE panel on the ship's controls. The drives lit and hummed quietly, the readouts a uniform green.

"Ah, watch the master at work." said Rav. He turned and walked from the bridge, whistling merrily to himself.

"He's almost as arrogant as you." said Zekt. "The master."

Kyra nodded slowly, turning to look at the drive panels. 

"Yeah, but he's not nearly as good looking."

"He's twice the mechanic."

"And half the shot."

Zekt sighed, and Sal snickered. 

"Doesn't your ego ever get stuck in the door?" asked Zekt.

"It's not arrogance if it's true." replied Kyra.


----------



## Dirge Eterna

Shogun_Nate said:


> Bah! I have a complaint! For the love of Gork and Mork, would you please stop being so damned prolific in your writing! Gads man! It would be one thing if it was drivel I could read over like the morning news but you keep putting up great stuff. Sigh..just means I'll have to take a chunk out of the weekend to catch up LOL!
> 
> Good luck and good gaming,
> 
> Nate


Ooh. Brutal for you. You put this up just as I put up a really big update full of fascinating things and characters .


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## deathbringer

Another charactor
dirge i demand to know when this is going to end
i feel like i might go blind from over exposure to pure awesomeness
though i must admit im enjoying every second of this


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## waltzmelancholy_07

This is just pure awesome!:biggrin:.....


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## Ordo Xeno Commander

^ seconded! With much enthusiasm!


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## Sternguard VETRAN

Great story mate i jst read hole thing in bout 3-5 hours and i loved it + rep but did you have to kill the raven guard i mean fo f*#ks sake


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## Dirge Eterna

Didn't kill then all, just a few. lolz. The Ultramarines got killed off completely though, but then again that's a tradition of mine. The Smurfs gotta go.

Update tomorrow.


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## Dirge Eterna

Well, it's still technically today.
------------------------------

[Fleet copy on location. Set scan range and adjust elevation.]

[Roger, _Furious Revenge_. Orders?]

[Deny access to orbital lanes. Prepare to jump to point Zero. We've found it, over.]

[Found the Source?]

[Roger that, comms. Inquisitor Black is certain.]

[Praise the Emperor, and purge the Xenos once and for all.]

[Praise the Emperor, comms. _Furious Revenge_ out.]

-----------
_Two days later_

The Marauding Fleet jumped to Aay'han to find the spacelanes deserted. A few damaged warships, unable to jump with the SDF Fleet, were swiftly destroyed by the escort fleets of Destroyers and Frigates. Dozens of sensor drones confirmed the lack of a trap, and the Kytharin descended to the surface, landing in a haze of smog and dust.

Kyra stepped from _Deliverance_'s drop ramp, an Impaler held against her shoulder.

"Where are they?" she asked to no one in particular. Sal switched on his shoulder lamp.

The patrols moved off into the haze, passing rotting bodies and burned-out armor. It seemed the fighting had blazed through this area, and, after killing all in it's wake, died out. 

"The banner still flies." said Sal. He pointed to the Aay'han Council Chambers, a fat, round building with parapets and towers surrounding it. The banner of Aay'han, a black serpent coiled around a red sword, still flew defiantly over the building. Craters and bullet pocks were so frequent the Kytharin found it difficult to move over the ground.

"Detected friendly FOF tags. Moving to rendezvous." said a trooper over the comlinks.

"Copy." replied another.

A hiss of static filled their helmets, and then a voice answered.

"Look to the skies, brothers."

Kyra and Sal whipped around as a Space Marine toppled from the top floor of a building, a knife cleanly though his visor. The heavily armored soldier hit the ground and didn't move. A Kytharin wearing a blackened suit of Stealth armor shimmered as the auto-reactive plates of his suit struggled to mask his movements. He dropped from the balcony, the springs in his leg armor absorbing the impact, and walked up to Kyra.

"Greetings, brother." said the Kytharin. "I am Xyk of the Black Talon."

"Sister." corrected Kyra, tapping her chest plate quietly. "Are you all that's left?"

Xyk shook his head slowly, and motioned to the south. "No. Our cabal fought and secured the Council Chambers after a treasonous coward let it fall. The Black Rose and Stormserpent orders fought in the south. From what we heard, the Black Rose was surrounded and overrun on Day 30 of the siege, but the Stormserpents fought their way clear and occupied the south of the city. The other warrior clans are spread over the planet, I know not of what happened to them."

Kyra nodded, and keyed the comms. "Zekt."

[Yeah?]

"Transmit to fleet, we've found survivors. They say the planet's retaken, mostly."

Xyk took the PDA from her belt and keyed up a map of the city. He marked two points in red and one in green.

"These two," he said, pointing to the red, "are SDF concentrations. The commanders pulled back after their invasion fleet left. They're heavily defended, but with fleet assets we can take them in a day. The green position is Kyz's House. A Stormserpent commander by the same name has held the position since Day 4. He should be relieved as soon as possible."

Xyk accompanied them back to _Deliverance_ and stood at the base of the ramp, watching.

"Aren't you coming?" asked Kyra.

"Not until I have determined the fate of every last one of my Talons." he said. "Their legacies will need to be carved into the Halls of Remembrance."

Kyra hit the ramp controls and walked to the bridge. Zekt piloted them upwards, passing the vast fleet of resupply vessels falling to the planet's surface to relieve the beleaguered defenders. 

[_Deliverance_ reporting in, copy clear.]

[Copy. Proceed to port side bay, prepare to take on supplies and assist wounded on-surface.]

[Confirmed, TC.]

Zekt snorted. "We get to play med-evac now?"

"They need help."

He shrugged, and set the ship down in _Serenity_'s cavernous hangar bay, the cargo tenders moving to fill the ship with food, medical supplies, and clean water.

After ten hours, Zekt sat at the bridge alone. Aay'han's defenders were resupplied, and the crew had gone to bed. He tapped a tune on the controls, his trick for staying awake. He hit the radio channels randomly, cycling through the frequencies. 

The override code squawked with a shrill whine, and a voice cut through, half panic and half horror.

[Fleet prepare to jump to Kytharia, _now_.]

---------------------------------------------------

AS24-[Sentry station 12 respond.]

SS12-[Warp portals on the scope, over.]

AS24-[Impossible. Check your equipment.]

SS12-[It's...it's confirmed! Multiple jump points below the orbital defense grid! They're coming in right on top of us!]

AS24-[Oh, Gods. This can't be happening. Alert the fleet, get them here now.]

AS24-[Sentry 12?]

AS24-[Gods help us.]


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## Qualtor

looking good


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## waltzmelancholy_07

The battle begins.... Wahahaha!... Can't wait till the next chapter:biggrin:...


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## Sternguard VETRAN

Absaloutly ausome:mrgreen:


----------



## Dirge Eterna

Thanks guys!
---------------------

The Segmentum Solar defense fleet warped into the space above Kytharia on 227.643.M47. Within six hours, the Orbital defense batteries, though they had reaped a grim toll on the ships, were outmaneuvered and destroyed. The God Hammer fired six times, accounting for over twenty confirmed kills and several unconfirmed, before an EMP charge buildup from the rapid firing overloaded the weapon and rendered it inoperable. The carriers and dropships of the SDF fleets fell to the planet's surface, and the land war began.

In Cor'd'azur, a village on the southern island chains, an Interrogator ordered the mass execution of every inhabitant, over four hundred men, women, and children. The SDF assault on Xe'kel, the planetary holy grounds, left the entire Priesthood of the Serpent dead at the doors of the chapels. A contingent of Citadel Guard held the Eternity Gates to the capital of Kytha'skan until an engineer detachment from the Council was able to destroy the bridge spanning the Great Chasm surrounding the city. The Citadel Guard were trapped on the other side and destroyed in a matter of hours. An orbital bombardment rendered Rypat, the ground command for Kytharia's military, into molten slag. Within ten hours, every city on the planet save for the capital was in ruins.

Numerous guerrilla groups and assault platoons escaped the vengeful SDF assault, along with over 30% of the global population, seeking shelter in the forests and mountains to the north. In the port city of St. Ana, a group of twenty partisans held off an assault for over eight hours before being overrun at daybreak on Day 2 of the invasion. The SDF massacred the populace and burned St. Ana to the ground before joining the seige of Kytha'skan. The capital city was equipped with a massive anti-laser shield, and resisted the waves upon waves of infantry and armor thrown at it, but it was clear that the city would fall. The Imperials dug in for the assault and waited. 

Millions of Kytharin looked to the skies, praying, screaming for the Marauding Fleets that seemed to have forgotten the home world. 

After eighteen hours of the siege, on 228.643.M47, seventeen Dreadnoughts, Two _Hammer_-class supercruisers, and over a thousand smaller craft jumped to the Relay outside Kytharia's spacelanes and engaged the SDF fleet at close-range, using their numbers and weapons to the maximum advantage.

------------------------------------

[Ground control TC is down, control reverting to _Serenity_ TC, copy?]

[Copy, TC. Ground forces coming down. Bring the rain in on top of up, request .405 rounds, over.]

[You got it, GC. Make them bleed.]

_Deliverance_ came down over Kytha'skan, the 150mm cannons throbbing at the air. SDF anti-aircraft weapons opened up, missiles and small-arms filling the air. Zekt hit a yellow switch on the controls and the rockets fell from the air, the electronics scrambled by the manic frequencies emitted by the countermeasures.

"Gods." said Kyra. She flipped through the radio channels, listening in horror to the reports coming in from the defenders. The SDF assault had left them in shambles, the lightning assaults cutting them apart.

"We're gonna make 'em pay." said Vaiq. He stepped from the hallway, a thick scar beginning at his left eyebrow and crossing his eye before disappearing down the neck of his armor. His newly reforged blade hung from his belt, a more permanent power source melded into the hilt.

"We are." growled Sal. "In blood."

[All units, we asked for Redemption, and now we give it in blood, and death.]

The override cut in, and one of the TC operators spoke in a hushed voice.

[The Reavers! The Reavers are ramming the SDF ships!]

"Redemption." said Kyra. "Don't we all."

Sal nodded slowly as Zekt set _Deliverance_ down in the main square of the city, before the Council Chambers. Contrails etched across the skies as the Kytharin swept down on their homeworld with merciless death on their lips.

"Friendlies!" yelled a voice, and a dust-spattered Council Guard stood up from a pile of rubble, a smile on his face.

"Thank the Gods." he said. "I thought the Marauders had deserted us."

"Not a chance." replied Kyra quickly. "What's the situation on the ground?"

"Not good." admitted the Guardsman. "The God Hammer overloaded, and our orbital defenses are gone. The SDF fleet bombarded the cities, and the military scattered from the drop zones. Rypat is gone, and the Council has gone into lockdown. The last order to come through was to resist the enemy at all costs."

"The Marauders will handle the fleet." said Kyra. "What about ground forces? What's the city look like?"

"Kytha'skan hasn't been hit hard, mostly in the south quarter." said the Council Guard. He pulled a holoslate from his belt and activated it, showing a map of the city. The southern quarter was a mass of red and orange, while the rest of the city was a uniform grey.

"The orange is contact, sighting enemy forces. The red is hard contact, actual engagements. Flashing red is ongoing firefights in the city in real-time."

Kyra noticed most of the red zones were flashing. Small-arms fire filtered through the air.

"Where's that bastard?" she asked herself, mentally searching for Inquisitor Black through the scanner, fruitless as it was.

"Excuse me?" asked the Guard. 

"Nothing." said Kyra. She handed him his holoslate and motioned to her crew. "Let's hit it."

They ran down the side streets, past a burned-out SDF Chimera. A Guardsman sputtered weakly from the top hatch, blood dribbling down his front. Sal grabbed him with his free hand and pulled him from the wreckage, dragging him into the street. The man's chest was burned, and a long shard of metal was embedded in his stomach. He writhed and yelped as the shard dug deeper into his flesh.

"Invade. Our goddamned. Homeworld." growled Sal. He dropped to his knees, straddling the man's chest, and punched him, stiff, quick punches that did not miss. The man stopped moving, but Sal kept hitting him, cracking his skull. Blood pooled on the ground, and splattered Sal's gauntlets. Vaiq leaned over and gently pulled Sal up, the other Kytharin panting.

"It's OK, brother." said Vaiq. "He's not in this war anymore."

The man's head was a mass of shattered bone and pulped flesh. Sal flicked blood off his gauntlets and moved on.

A square opened up, into hell. Sixteen Kytharin fought against twenty SDF Stormtroopers in a plaza before the Storm Chapel, dedicated to Rukt, the Kytharin Storm God. A series of fallen marble columns sheltered the defenders, while the attackers fought from behind stone walls and a smashed Leman Russ tank. Kyra raised her weapon and shot a hole through a man's chest. Blood erupted from his mouth and he toppled, screaming.

The Kytharin raised a cheer and the firing redoubled. The SDF became pinned down, only showing their weapons as they raised them above their heads to fire. Vaiq thumbed a grenade, an evil grin on his face. He flipped the bomb over the Leman Russ and a second later a splash of blood and a dozen screeches of agony filtered back as the men behind it exploded. An SDF lieutenant stood up, weapon gone, arms out to his sides. His men did the same.

"Against the wall!" roared the Kytharin leader. The SDF soldiers, only about six of them, most of them wounded, complied. Their lieutenant looked at Kyra. She removed her helmet, and stared back at him. 

"Please." he said. "We didn't know... we didn't know Black intended to take it this far."

The Kytharin raised their weapons to fire, and Kyra shouted. 

"Stop!"

The leader stopped dead, his soldiers a few seconds after. Kyra stepped up to the lieutenant.

"You know Adrian Black?" she growled. The man seemed to shrink. It struck Kyra he was very young, perhaps nineteen at most.

"N-no better then most. He briefed us before the landings... he told us this was the end to the war."

"He didn't tell you this was our _home world_?" snarled Kyra.

"H-he, he did. But we didn't think it held such a regard." whimpered the man. He seemed perilously close to tears.

"What about Terra?" asked Kyra. "What if we visited this destruction on Terra?"

"O-on Terra?" asked the man.

"Is there an echo in here?" Kyra said to Sal. Sal shook his head slowly.

"Where. Is. Adrian. Black." said Kyra haltingly. The man closed his eyes, whispering a prayer.

"On his ship." said the man. "Emperor forgive me... he's on the _Furious Revenge_. He's dropping to inspect the garrisons later next week."

"Good." said Kyra. She pulled the pistol from her belt and smashed it across the man's face, making him drop to his knees.

"Please, Emperor no!" yelped the man.

"You dare speak of your false god!?" roared one of the Kytharin.

"Forgive me, for you know not what you did." whispered Kyra. A sharp _crack_ echoed down the streets as she pulled the trigger, and the Kytharin followed her example. The SDF soldiers toppled, dozens of rounds tearing through their armor.

"Forgive us all." said Sal. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"This is going to kill us all." said Kyra.

"We're survivors." said Sal. "We'll get through it."

"Not all of us." said Kyra. "Not all of us."


----------



## dark angel

Great Work Dirge i love it


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## waltzmelancholy_07

All I can say is awesome:grin:.. But can the Kytharin really invade Terra?.... With all those fanatics guarding it?.... Really want to see them try though:laugh:...


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## dark angel

Haha you should start a Role Play based on this:victory:


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## Ordo Xeno Commander

So keen for the RP hahah. Very well done Dirge, as usual. Brutality, it is awesome


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## Dirge Eterna

Actually I think my next tackle is going to be a choose-your-own-adventure, based off an RP character a while back. I'm really going to miss the Kytharin, though :cray:.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The SDS _Elysian Fields_ jumped into Kytharia's spacelanes three days after the Kytharin fleets made orbit. The massive vessel dwarfed the Dreadnoughts, and was a match for the _Dawn Hammer_ and the _Dusk Hammer_, who had quickly thrown up their shields. The majority of the SDF fleets were gone, but enough stay with the _Elysian Fields_ to pose the major factor in the battle over Kytharia.

Kyra raced down the halls of _Serenity_, Zekt and Sal close behind. She shouldered past a crewman and walked onto the bridge, a vast semicircular room with screens clustered on every surface.

"Charging weapons, running out the Accelerators." said a crewman. Fleetmaster Reigk nodded.

"Engines to half speed, bring us port-side-to, at the double."

"Half speed and port-side-to, aye."

The ship turned slowly, presenting it's elongated, predatory silhouette to the SDF fleet.

"Ready guns. Mark targets and load EMP-Shredder."

The terminology wasn't lost on Kyra. EMP rounds would destroy shields, and Shredder shells, a massive shell that contained thousands of small bomblets, would wreak untold havoc aboard a sealed spacecraft. 

"Aye."

"Fleetmaster, reading unusual energy readings off the leading SDF vessel's prow. Perhaps-"

"Perhaps we should follow orders, con."

"Aye, Fleetmaster."

The first salvo fired, making the Kytharin fleets ripple as a hail of building-sized projectiles hurtled through space. The SDF ships fired their engines and sprang in front of the _Elysian Fields_, protecting the vast ship. Shells smashed into shields. Decks depressurized. Men were sucked screaming out into the void. The SDF weathered the first volley, so they could unleash their secret.

The vast rotary Nova Cannon on the prow of _Elysian Fields_ fired in sequence, striking the Kytharin Dreadnoughts on their broadside. The first ship, the _Consolidation_, was destroyed instantly as it's fusion bottle cracked and blew apart. _Reverence_ was hit in it's hangar decks and the doors melted to slag, rendering the docks useless. A shell passed through two destroyers and struck _Dusk Hammer_ in it's Accelerator magnets, crushing the prow of the vessel to an unrecognizable pulp.

Kyra grabbed a stanchion as _Serenity_ was struck just below the bridge, near the engines. A howl grew in the air as the klaxons began to scream. The panels flashed red.

"We've lost all engine power!" yelled a crewman. Most of the bridge crew were down, blood pooling around them. Reigk was in his command chair, the impact of the shell had snapped his neck.

"No, no, no!" yelled another. "We've been pushed off-course! We're headed into the atmosphere!"

"The gravity well." said Sal, breathing. 

"Can we get _Deliverance_ off the hangars?" asked Kyra. Zekt shook his head. 

"The force won't let us." he explained. "Too much pressure on the doors for them to open."

"Does anyone fly?" asked the XO.

Kyra nudged Zekt forward. The XO looked at him.

"No." said Zekt. "I fly ore scows. Traders. Scrappers. Not battle cruisers."

"You're the closest we've got." said Kyra. "If you don't do it, I'll use the last few moments of life we've got left to think up something really painful you can die from."

Zekt swallowed visibly and shoved Reigk's body out of the command seat, opening the holographic controls. His fingers danced over the board.

"Um." he said. "Open all hatches. Extend all flaps and drag fins."

A low hiss sounded throughout the ship.

"Seal the ventral gun decks."

The bridge crew bustled around as the viewscreens grew cherry red. Panels and spars snapped off the ship's body and whistled away, forming burning contrails across Kytharia's skies.

"Altitude at two hundred kilometers." said Sal. He sat next to Zekt at the auxiliary pilot's controls. "We're in the atmosphere."

"Hold that." replied Zekt. He indicated a pitch lever. "Keep us level."

"That bastard." growled Kyra. "He had that ship up his sleeve all along."

"Hold off vengeance until _after_ we get off the plummeting death trap, OK?" said Sal.

Zekt's eyes flicked from screen to screen, taking in the news. It wasn't good.

"Everybody might want to take a seat." he said. "This is going to be a bumpy landing."

_Serenity_ blazed over Kytha'skan, leaving a smoky contrail that was visible to Kytharin and SDF alike. Both sides stopped their fighting for a brief moment, sharing confusion at the sudden appearance of the burning object as it fell from the sky. 

"Thrusters at amidships." said one of the crew. "Coming down stable."

Sal nodded. "Pitch and yaw are good, we're at fourty-five degrees off the vertical to the bow. The stern will hit first."

"Might want to evacuate that part of the ship." said Zekt. A crewman hurried to comply."

The bridge viewscreen cracked from the heat, and a blast shield slammed shut over it, making the only light the glow of red emergency lighting.

"Five seconds to impact." said Sal. "Altitude seven thousand feet."

"Four seconds."

Zekt gritted his teeth. He slammed the controls forward, making _Serenity_'s AI howl and gibber in protest as the straining thrusters roared to full tilt. The ship lurched forward, it's movement overcoming the fall.

"Two seconds."

Kyra buckled a grav seat over herself.

"One second."

_Serenity_ hit the plains sixty kilometers from Kytha'skan going approximately twelve hundred kilometers per hour. The ship smashed into the ground, tearing the back half loose in a massive tear of metal. The bow segment bounced, then buried itself thirty feet into the ground at nearly a twenty degree angle, a path of dirty glass fused behind it.

For a long second there was only the sound of metal ticking, and the blips of the screens as the AI desperately tried to fix the connections. Dust filled the room, and spars of metal clanked off the decks. The XO got up slowly, coughing.

"Crew, sound off!" yelled the XO. He dabbed at a cut on his forehead.

All the bridge crew muttered weakly. Sal stood up, shaking his head to clear it. Kyra blinked. The screens were smashed, and the blast screen had been torn away. Warm sunlight filtered down into the ship's bridge.

"We're down." said Kyra. "We're down!"

Zekt stood up weakly, then his knees buckled. Sal grabbed him before he fell and dragged him back up. Zekt looked at him, disoriented.

"We must've made it." he said. "You're too ugly to be allowed into the Serpent Halls."

"Thanks." said Sal. He stood Zekt up and dusted him off, turning to look around. 

"Heck of a landing." he said. 

Kyra hugged Zekt, and then took Sal to go and check on _Deliverance_ in the hangar.

Zekt looked around at the near-deserted bridge, taking in the smashed consoles and dusty air. He removed his helmet, and breathed in air that reeked of fuel, burned metal, ozone, and the woody smell that permeated Kytharia's atmosphere.

He sighed, and flopped down in the command chair.

"Now _that_ was fun." he said the XO, before he promptly passed out in the chair. The weapons con nudged the XO, who begrudgingly handed him a twenty-credit chip.


----------



## Dirge Eterna

Next update might take a bit, but in the meantime I want you guys to look at This and PM me immediate reactions. I'd like some basis before I go on rambling. Either way, see you later!


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## waltzmelancholy_07

:laugh:... Some bits from Anakin's landing on Episode III... Another great work!..,


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## dark angel

Good work Dirge:victory: and as for that diary entry thing i liked it alot except i was a bit confused weather or not it was Fantasy or 40k


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## Dirge Eterna

It's Fantasy lol.


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## Shogun_Nate

Wow..great job bud. The story just keeps rolling on. Keep up the good work man! 

Good luck and good gaming,

Nate


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## Dirge Eterna

Thanks all. I got off early tonight, a result of some minor technical difficulties on a refueling trolley, so here we are.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You see?" asked Inquisitor Black. He watched the footage of _Elysian Fields_' guncams over and over, playing back the grievous blow to the Kytharin fleet.

"See what, my lord?" asked a crewman. Black blinked slowly. He had almost added "Regulus" to the end of his sentence. Damn those lizards. Damn them for spilling the Emperor's blood on His soil.

"See the future, of course." said Black. "I counted on their honor to bring them to Kytharia. I counted on their courage to land immediately, and I counted on their tenacity to keep their fleet in orbit, even in the face of this ship's firepower."

"They are predictable." said the crewman. "I see it, lord."

"No." replied Black lazily. "You don't. Your mind is a prisoner of it's own ignorance. But I see it. I see their end. It will be at Port Royal. Their greed will consume them, and the Emperor's fire will cleanse this galaxy of their filthy claws once and for all."

"As the Emperor wills." said the man. Adrian Black rolled his eyes. 

"As the Emperor wills." he repeated, the sarcasm lost on the tiresome man.

-------------------------------------------------- 

"How's the ship?" asked Kyra.

Sal smiled. "The AI got it out of the hangars with your father, Izi, and a good portion of the hangar crews right before the emergency doors shut down the bays. The enginseers are repairing some minor debris damage and scorching in the repair wards."

"That's a relief, at least." said Kyra. "Home sweet home."

The small prefab shelter the pair lay in was made of a nonreflective weave that was mostly camouflaged by the foliage. The fighting in Kytha'skan and the outlying areas wasn't done yet, a few SDF positions stubbornly holding back the Kytharin juggernaut, despite the SDF's complete lack of support. The loss of _Serenity_ and three other Dreadnoughts had shaken the Kytharin morale, but Enginseer Berris had promised the Council a brand new set of ships within three months, which made the small dip in their morale bounce back with almost supernatural strength. A celebratory atmosphere filled the makeshift camp.

"What can they possibly throw at us now!?" roared a Kytharin outside. A dozen shouts filtered into the tent, almost as many answers as voices.

Sal yawned and stretched slowly. "Y'know, are you really gonna live on that ship after all this?"

"Why wouldn't I? _Forsik Deliv'ika_? Never."

"I dunno. Settle down. Get a place on Ven'couyt or one of the Hub worlds and start a family."

Kyra smirked. "I can't see me having a family. Come on, kids. Go get mom another belt of ammo."

"Isn't that how you were raised?"

Kyra thought back to her childhood aboard _Deliverance_, when Rek had been a merchant raider against the SDF.

"Yeah. Worked out pretty well."

"Pretty well for a sociopath."

The shelter's entrance code blipped and slid back. Kyra ducked under the blanket. The shelter was only registered to Sal.

"Sal?" asked Jesc. The Knight stuck her head through the door, almost in full armor.

"Yeah?" responded Sal. He must have looked guilty, because Jesc sighed.

"First off, they're having a briefing in the command tent, five minutes. Second, who's your friend?"

Kyra peeked above the blankets, and Jesc's eyes glimmered faintly as she chuckled.

"I should have known. Make that twenty minutes."

Kyra joined in as the pair laughed.

---------------------------------------------

"Alright. First off, the home front. Major SDF concentrations are still entrenched in the lower plateaus, but we're digging them out one artillery shell at a time. We expect a complete collapse of their ground forces within seventy-two hours."

The holomap spun off of Kytharia, flying at an impossible speed to center on Port Royal. The massive space dock hung in high orbit above Jacinos V, a planet that was mostly taken up by refineries that turned the toxic goo present on the planet to sustaining promethium for the ships' engines. Over sixty stories tall, a mass of docks, refit bays, and shipyards spun off it, making it look more like a knot of metal then a space station.

"Our preliminary assault will consist of Stormserpents and Black Talons, supported by Osprey and Talon-class ships. The secondary assault will be the Knights of Silence, Praetorian Guard, and Slayers. The Reavers will provide supporting fire against the SDF fleet presence, and the Marauders have pledged the _Dawn Hammer_ to our cause, as well as all their Dreadnoughts. If the _Elysian Fields_ makes an appearance, we will raise shields to full, and group up. The EMP waves off the shield collisions should neutralize Nova cannon shells. We will then surround it and destroy it's engines. If possible, do not damage the main gun, the gearheads on Quet'zal want it for study. Got it?"

A few heads nodded. 

"Good."

The holotable zoomed out, showing the entire battle front along the border of Kytharin and SDF space.

"As we speak the Council has dispatched EWS battlegroups and mercenary companies to the hot zones, attempting to pin down the location of the _Elysian Fields_. We have to assume it is at Port Royal, and we have to assume we will take casualties as a result."

"We're not exactly queuing up for death, boss." said a pilot, still in his Flight armor. 

"I'll try to keep my arc of fire under control then." chuckled the briefing sergeant. The assembled Kytharin rippled with laughter.

"Sir, situation on the ground is what, exactly?" asked a Stormserpent in the front, surprisingly civil for one of Aay'han's most brutal war clans.

"We expect standard spaceport security, plus two regiments of SDF Guard and a number of Astartes garrisons in for refit. Our strength at total will be over fifty thousand bodies total between crews and soldiers, and about two hundred ships. We expect numerical and tactical superiority. That means surprise."

"Copy that, sir." said the Stormserpent. He sat down.

"Any more questions?" asked the sergeant. Kyra's stomach twinged. She wished she had gotten something to eat before coming to the briefing.

"Then get to it, Kytharin. And may the Gods smile on us all." said the sergeant, and the crowd split in a hundred directions, now with purpose.

_Take Port Royal, and we all go home._

_Most of us._


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## waltzmelancholy_07

Men, the unimportant things in your stories are just brilliant:laugh:... Excited to see what will happen next...


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## dark angel

Great work i ant wait for the next part now


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## Sternguard VETRAN

u are awsome. you should get this on papperback and present the idea to black libary.


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## Dirge Eterna

Update tomorrow, fellas. But I do have a cop-out for my rather large gap between updates. My life recently took a hard left for a couple days, a result of inconsequential things rearing up in a huge globule of Not Inconsequential Things Any More, and I had to scramble to get some stuff done. I did manage to continue my work on The Watcher, though, and I posted a little tidbit In my Blog.

Check it out if you want, if you're not interested in Fantasy check back tomorrow night and this will be updated. Clear up and clear out, fellas. See you tomorrow.


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## Dirge Eterna

[Fleet Relay at seven-two copy?]

[Copy on location. Cutting Relay engines in five.]

[Dropping Relay power to eighty.]

[Four.]

[Charging weapons.]

[Three.]

[Copy, shields up.]

[Two.]

[Preliminary fleet data uploaded. Track steady.]

[One.]

[Cutting Engines, prepare to jump.]

Zekt shut down the drives, and the ship sputtered. 

"What happened?" asked Kyra.

He shrugged. "The Relay switch must be fused." 

He tried the lever a few more times, then gave up and sighed. "Tell Jesc and the other what's happened. Give me ten minutes."

"I'll give you five."

Zekt removed a panel and crawled into the ceiling.

Jesc stuck her head out of the drop door, two dozen Paladins and Knights behind her.

"What's happened?" she asked. Kyra gestured to the bridge.

"Relay switch is fried. Ten minutes, then we turn around and come back."

"Gotcha." 

Kyra stepped around the Knight, beginning to clip on heavy Lancer armor. The plates clacked and slapped against each other. Vaiq shoved a few Knights out of the way and handed her an Impaler. 

"Alright." said Zekt over the speakers. "It was jammed, not fused. We're turning now. Thirty seconds to exit."

Jesc breathed out, and clacked her halberd off the floor.

"Alright, Knights! Strength and Honor."

"Strength and Honor." repeated the Knights solemnly.

A slight bump shuddered through the ship as the Relay engines engaged, and Zekt yelped. The ship lurched sideways, then began to roll. Kyra shoved Knights out of the way and ran to the bridge, just in time to see Zekt roll out of the way of a massive chunk of burning ship. Dozens of hulks hung in orbit around Port Royal, the Kytharin ships were hammering the station and the orbiting Segmentum Solar battlefleet at near point-blank range.

"Hang on." said Zekt. "I got a contact on the long-range."

"How big?" 

"Big."

Kyra gritted her teeth. "Damnation. Get us a visual, confirm what I think it is."

Zekt swung _Deliverance_ around, wheeling around another wreck. The exterior cameras focused on a greyish shape the Kytharins had dismissed as an asteroid.

"It's not a ship. It's too big." said Zekt.

"It's the _Elysian Fields._" said Kyra. Zekt choked. 

"We have to tell Fleet." he said.

Kyra knocked the radio out of his hands. "No time. Take us in."

"What?!" 

Kyra set her helmet on. "If I'm right, that asshole doesn't think we're crazy enough to attack him with ships this small."

"It's firing!" 

Three Nova shells smashed into the rear quarter of the _Cerulean_, blowing it out in a fantastic explosion. The remaining Kytharin Dreadnoughts and the _Dawn Hammer_ turned to face the new threat. _Deliverance_ flashed to full burn, screaming across the surface of the massive vessel. SDF crewmen cringed as the ship flashed by windows.

"Entering the shields. I'm deploying countermeasures."

_Deliverance_ flashed blue-white and broke through the _Elysian Fields_' shielding. A dozen bolter turrets turned to face them, but suddenly the ship vanished from their computerized screens as the EMP fields fired pulses into the servitors' brains.

"Come in on the gun barrel, use the breacher." said Kyra. Zekt nodded. He swung the ship around a massive observation tower, and touched down in a small divot in the ship's surface, a testament to it's previous engagements with the Kytharin.

Sal stumbled onto the bridge, breathing hard, already in full armor.

"We're landing on the _Fields_." said Kyra. "And we're going to blow it up."

Sal blinked slowly, and then left the bridge, cocking his Lasher.

"Get suited up." said Kyra. Zekt nodded and left the bridge. She activated the massive breacher drill on _Deliverance_'s base, which reached a screaming pitch before chewing straight through the meter of adamantium and plasteel into a wide corridor. Crewmen screeched as they were torn apart by the sudden change in pressure.

Vaiq and Sal dropped through the breach, their helmets on to protect them from the howling escape of air. Izi and Kyra followed, and then Jesc and her Knights, thirty Kytharin clustered in the hall. Zekt looked down from the ship. Kyra met his stare.

"Activate the compensators, keep the ship on the _Elysian Fields_ at all costs."

He nodded slowly, and suddenly _Deliverance_ vanished in a plume of fire and smoke.


----------



## dark angel

YOU CANNOT DO THAT! :shok: please tell me you didnt just destroyed Deliverance? lol


----------



## Dirge Eterna

All will be revealed tomorrow or the next day. Some death, some asplosions, a serious case of why the frak, and a revelation. I promises.


----------



## Sniper

hmmm I like the explosions your promising there Dirge  great story so far

Sniper


----------



## deathbringer

please let the revelation be what I think it is 
but me no thinky the deliverance is dead
great stuff dirge
i missed a bit and have had a thoroughly enjoyable morning catching up


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander

Agree with all of the above ^. Very nic Dirge, I love your stories as always.


----------



## Dirge Eterna

Alright, I'm tired, and hopped up on Airheads, but I did say today or tomorrow, and tomorrow I will be on-base ALL DAY (everyone grumble for me), so today is left.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Zekt!? Zekt, respond!" voxed Kyra. Static hissed back. 

"Are you there? Please, respond!"

Sal put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head slowly. She flipped off the vox.

"Come on." he said carefully.

The Kytharin moved along the corridor, past iron stanchions with icons set into them, past double doors sealed against damaged sections of the ship. Massive _thumps_ echoed through the hull as the Kytharin fleet hammered the _Elysian Fields_.

"Fan out, look for a crewman." ordered Jesc. The Knights nodded and began to smash down doors. After only a few seconds one hauled out a terrified little man, shorter then Kyra's stomach and with wispy white hair clinging to his scalp.

"Don't kill me!" he squealed. Jesc hauled him up to face level by his collar, his feet hanging two feet above the floor.

"Where is a remote relay panel?" asked the Knight. The man squirmed and pointed down the shaft.

"Twenty meters down that service tunnel, on the left. Please, let me go!"

Kyra shrugged, and Jesc let the man down. As he turned to run, Kyra tripped him. The little man turned onto his back just in time to see the descent of an armored talon, and then his head exploded onto the deck.

"Nice." she said slowly. She wiped off the blood and gore onto the man's tunic.

"Got the access panel here, Paladin." said a Knight. Jesc turned around and walked down the hall, turning to face the terminal. Her fingers danced along the keyboard.

"Your ship was hit by a turret." she said. "They managed to fit a rating next to one of the servitors in the gun bubbles. 

"Damnation." said Kyra. "Did they track it?"

"Rating's report said it disappeared after he hit it."

Sal turned as the sound of clattering feet approached. The Kytharin ducked into side rooms and deep recesses as a team of armsmen rushed past, to fixated on their goal to look in closed doors.

"Whew." said one of the Knights, as the men ran down the ducts.

"Tap into their comm-net." said Jesc. One of the Knights, carrying a bulky comm unit on his back, flicked a switch. A low hum filled the air, then a _pop_ sounded in the net.

[Damage to section seven, atmosphere venting.]

[Decks breached from E to K.]

[Engine power at 37.4% and dropping.]

"Sounds like Fleet's kicking arse." said Vaiq. Kyra nodded.

"They can't fire off those Nova rounds as fast as the other ships. It's the rotary cannon. Heh, their own improvement stuffs them."

"Alright, Knights. Keep moving." said Jesc smoothly. The Kytharin took off down the corridor, and a shadow flashed in the corner of Kyra's vision.

"Helmets!" she shrieked, a moment before a rocket-propelled .227 round smashed a hole in the deck. A Knight was pulled into the breach, screaming, and for one terrible second his body blocked the hole. Then with a wet _squelch_ he was ripped through the foot-wide hole. Jesc slammed her helmet down, along with the rest of the Knights. Kyra and her crew, already having sealed their suits, grabbed the Knight's discarded Impaler.

"Deck's sealing." said Sal. The feeling of wind suddenly ceased as the last of the air was sucked through the hole. Jesc motioned, eerily silent in the vacuum, and the Kytharin moved forwards.

"I've got a cutting torch." said Izi. "Can we slice one of the doors?"

Kyra bit her lip, thinking. "They'd just seal the next deck."

"Not if we're already at the next deck."

Vaiq looked up sharply. "Let's take a walk. Give me that torch."

Izi handed the device to Vaiq and he turned to the hole in the hull, cutting a five-foot wide hole around it. When it was finished, he kicked the metal out, a fat donut of plasteel spiraling away into the void. The Kytharin clambered out onto the side of the ship, the magnets in their armor's feet clanking as they sealed.

"Life support's good, magnets on-line." said Izi, monitoring each of their lifesigns via the automedicae built into her arm and gauntlet. Disturbingly, Zekt's signs were a dull grey instead of the vibrant green of the Kytharin.

"Alrighty." said Vaiq. "Do as I do. One false step out here and you're fried."

He stepped cautiously around a massive transformer that crackled as it desperately tried to pull the shields back up. The party followed, moving past massive turrets, that despite the servitors' AI seeing them, were unable to depress their weapons enough to shoot at them.

"Where are we now?" asked Kyra. They were about halfway up a massive spire built onto the ship's dorsal ridge, a dizzying drop to the deck below. Kytharin fighter-bombers flashed around, lighting up the gun emplacements. 

"Main elevator to the bridge." said Jesc. She flipped on a holomap of the ship's spire.

"Alright. Cut in here, the elevator's self-sealing." said Kyra.

Vaiq nodded and knelt down, the torch fizzing as it sliced through the armor, layer by layer. He pulled out the slab, and instantly a fat wad of yellowish foam plugged the hole.

"How's that for self sealing?" he asked offhandedly. He pulled the sword from his back and sliced a second hole through the foam, letting the Knights and crew through before jumping through himself, letting the foam seal again.

They hung onto a low outcrop in the elevator shaft. A low clanking filtered up, and the mass of the elevator's top became visible through the haze of machine oil and smog.

"In three." said Kyra. The Kytharin counted off and dropped, smacking into the elevator's top segment. Vaiq knelt down and pulled the hatch off, while Izi and the Knights pumped Impaler and Scorcher fire into the car. Guards and crew screeched as they were set alight and sliced apart. The troops clambered down into the car, and stood among the corpses as the elevator passed floor after floor.

"So, seen any good holos lately?" asked Sal. The Kytharin chuckled.

"Not many. Beat Vaiq at cards a dozen times on the way here." said Jesc.

"I want a rematch." added Vaiq. "I want some of those creds back before you drop them in the poor box."

"Well, I _was_ going to spend them on hotel rooms, beer, and narcs, but you're right. The poor could use them better."

The Knights laughed, and Vaiq grumbled.

The doors swooshed open, and a motley assortment of mercenary weapons and blades pointed at the single terrified rating in the hallway.

"Please-" he managed, before every Kytharin pulled the trigger, blowing him apart.

Izi walked to the bridge door, noting the heavy blast screens had been activated. She pulled a scrambler from her belt and slapped it onto the door controls.

"That's against the rules." said Sal. He tapped a sign next to the door, reading "Do not Touch, under penalty of Death. The Emperor Provides."

"I'm sure their Emperor won't mind if I just make a little adjustment." said Izi. She pulled the scrambler off the door and pulled out her pistol, firing the entire clip into the door console. The doors hissed as the seal broke. Two dozen voices yelling at once filtered out into the hall.

"Raiders at two-oclock, reposition gun 42!"

"Incoming!"

"L Deck totally depressurized!"

"We've lost maneuvering thrusters!"

"Enemy contact splashed, confirmed kill."

"Fighter bay doors are fused, cannot launch."

Inquisitor Black's voice filtered back.

"Make them bleed, Emperor damn them!" 

A Knight slipped the claws of a pneumatic ram through the door's slit and cranked. After a half-second, the gears slipped and the door swooshed open. The bridge crew looked at the fifteen armored Kytharin standing in the doorway. For a second there was silence, then the disbelieving minds of the SDF registered the soldiers and selected "panic" as the appropriate response. Uniformed Fleet Commissars and Admirals drew ceremonial sidearms, while armsmen drew combat shotguns. The Kytharin opened fire, mowing down the few men whose antique bolt pistols and needlers didn't detonate in their hands from lack of use, while the armsmen's shotguns pattered harmlessly off the Kytharin Lancer armor. Impaler fire slashed across the bridge, killing anyone who shot more then a terrified glance at the invaders. 

"Check the bodies." said Kyra, after the last crewman had stopped twitching on the deck. The Knights spread out, Izi helping one who had caught a lucky bolt pistol shot to his side.

"He's not here." said Sal.

"I heard him."

"He's not here." Vaiq repeated.

The viewscreen, cracked at the edges and smoky, flicked on.

"You are, all of you, creatures, disgustingly predictable. Did you really think I would be a part of this attack?"

Adrian Black smirked. Behind him, a dozen Stormtroopers worked at stations and screens, doubtlessly another ship.

"You cretin." growled Kyra. 

"Now now, lizard, must not allow that temper to get out of control. Congratulations, you have taken the _Elysian Fields_. I did not expect a boarding party, but I did expect the loss of my ship. Now then, my lizards, listen closely. You will need much more help then the pathetic few you've gathered to withstand the full might of the Emperor."

"We've beaten you at every turn, imbecile." said Jesc. Black cocked his head.

"And you, with your piety and devotion. Can you not see the lost cause in front of you?"

"The Serpent Gods' cause is never lost, as long as a single Kytharin stands to defend them." intoned one of the Knights, quoting the _Libra Scerpia_.

Black smiled. "We'll see."

The screen flashed blank, and Kyra smashed it with a talon.

"That bastard." she raged. 

"Come on." said Sal. "Transport's cutting through the elevators now. Ship's set to blow."

They clambered into the dropship, as the _Elysian Fields_ blew apart.


----------



## deathbringer

Great stuff as always cant wait for the final revelation


----------



## waltzmelancholy_07

As always... Brilliant work...:grin:


----------



## Dirge Eterna

"TC confirm acquisition of target."

"Confirm orbital up, locked in now. Tracking steady."

"Roger. Deploy counters and AI-2207."

"Copy. Five seconds."

"Backup in two seconds."

"Almost."

"One second."

"Got it. We're through. Slicing in now. Checking PR for mention."

AI-2207 slid through a single fibre-weave dart fired at nearly light-speed, impacting the side of the _Furious Revenge_ as it fled from Port Royal. The dart struck just below the main capacitor for the gunnery support, allowing the AI to slither from it's matrix and reach into the ship.

A simple subroutine blocked it's path. AI-2207's core matrices emanated humorous dismissal of the intrusion, and send a concentrated ion-flux charge into the routine's core, disabling it permanently.

"2207 copy." said a EWS operator. 2207 slowed it's assault, concentrating on the signal.

[AI-2207 intrusion protocol active. Objective: Check PR for Inquisitor Black and disable drives.]

"Good luck, 2207. EWS _Temperance_ out."

2207 continued it's movements, sliding past the gun controls and modar arrays. The personnel roster flashed past it's matrices, and a single name stuck out to it like a beacon.

_Inquisitor Black, Adrian D._

AI-2207 prepared to send a tightbeam communique back to the _Temperance_, assuring the Operator Inquisitor Black was on the ship, but before it could send the packed message, the _Furious Revenge_ slipped into the Warp, cutting AI-2207 off, stuck in the ship's systems. 

-----------------------------------------------------------

Zekt coughed. A fine mist of blood coated the inside of his helmet. 

"Gods." he moaned quietly. His armor clicked and whirred as he slowly reoriented himself. He floated near the open airlock door, trying to clear his head. The ship had been hit suddenly, and he'd been tossed back into the ship by it's spin. A massive hole was punched through the airlock door, through the deck plates, and a large dent was visible in the lower deck's flooring.

He blinked the blur out of his eyes and looked around, taking stock of the situation. The ship's sensors pulsed wildly as a massive explosion consumed the _Elysian Fields_.

"Take that, asshole." he said weakly, desperately hoping the soldier who'd gotten the shot off had died aboard the ship.

A plain metal box, heavily dented on one side, floated past his head and bumped off the wall, starting towards the airlock.

"Damn it all." he said. He reached out and grabbed it, noting the fused lock. He tested it. The lock snapped. He peeked inside the box, then closed it.

"Well.. that's something." he said to himself. Zekt pushed himself off a stanchion, tossing the box back into Kyra's room.

"Never would have guessed it was a-"

[Broadbeam signal to all in range Relay ships, come in.]

Zekt whipped around, secret boxes and wounds forgotten. He floated to the comms console, letting a sob of relief escape his lips as he realized that although gravity, life support, and engines were down, the comms still worked.

[KSV _Deliverance_ copy, need evac now, repeat request evac and salvage to my X.]

Kyra's voice broke over the comm, a squawk cutting out the automated message as she sliced into the channel.

[Zekt? Gods, you out there?!]

Zekt winced as his wounds throbbed. [Copy, boss. Got that evac? How you doing?]

[I'm fine, thanks. Evac in five.]

Four minutes later, the docking hatch of the troopship slapped against _Deliverance_'s hull. Zekt slumped into the airlock, and the soldiers hauled him upright, taking him to the medbay. Izi stood at the foot of his cot.

"Your head OK?" she asked.

"I'm fine."

"How about your neck?"

"I'm _fine_."

"You're a damned _mir'osikla_ idiot." said Kyra, walking through the door.

"Ow, my neck." groaned Zekt with a theatrical grab to his throat. Izi shot Kyra a glare.

"Do you know how much that ship costs?" asked Kyra.

Zekt chuckled, while Izi just looked horrified.

"I see what's at stake here." said Zekt. He stood up, to Izi's frantic, disapproving gestures.

"Not your sorry ass." said Kyra. "And you opened my box."

"I did not, I'm trustworthy enough."

"You're not trustworthy. You're a _mirosik'la_, scheming, idiot."

She smiled, and hugged him. "But we do like having you around, _Zek'ika_. It's good you're alright."

Zekt blinked slowly. "Have you been smoking something?"

Sal stepped through the medbay doors, followed a bit later by Vaiq, who held what looked like a whole roast _Kuvara_ bird on a spit.

"No." said Sal. "She's allergic to the troopship's insulation. Wait until the meds wear off, then you'll get the same discussion minus the hug."

Zekt blinked as Kyra walked back out of the medbay, humming merrily.

"What are you going to get?" he asked.

Sal shrugged. "I do fine."

Vaiq shoved his way past Sal, the drippings from the bird down his front. 

"Good to have ya back, laddie." he said.

"We'll see about that." said Zekt. "Still have a ways to go."


----------



## deathbringer

It just gets better and better great stuff dirge


----------



## Dirge Eterna

Thanks DB. I'm looking to wrap this up within ten days, actually. It's been a trip, and I'm going to miss the Kytharin desperately. It's been too long since I wrote about them last, and I'm glad I had the opportunity to do so again. I have grown quite attached to the many characters, and you might be seeing some of them in the future. I have great plans for the 47th Millennium, after I've finished _The Watcher_, of course.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kyra sat at _Deliverance_'s holotable, contemplating the fat piece of metal covering the breach in the hull.

"Is it confirmed?" she asked. Rek nodded slowly, activating the table. The crew leaned inwards.

"AI-2207 breached the ship's roster just before it jumped, and managed to confirm Inquisitor Black's presence onboard. The jump vector suggests he left for Arabica."

Sal shrugged. "Why Arabica? The place is a cesspool. We saw that last time we were there."

Kyra nodded. "And he knows we know it's a cesspool, so he's going to ground there, hoping to his corpse god we don't think to look."

Rek licked his lips. "We can only spare what is absolutely necessary. A small contingent of Raven Guard have managed to start a guerrilla war against Aay'han, we need to return to the Hub Worlds to pacify them."

Zekt blinked, making a piece of gauze taped to his forehead move. 

"What then?" he asked. "What happens after we kill Black? It's not like the SDF is suddenly going to stop. They don't quit. They'll keep going until either we're all dead or they are."

"That is not the case." said Rek. "Inquisitor Black is, for lack of a better word, the first and last word in authority in the Pacificus Rim. We kill him, the Maginot Sphere falls apart quickly. Orks and Hrud will take the initiative and push into the now leaderless systems. The SDF would pull back, fighting off the invasion,"

"Which gives them time to forget all about our little adventure." finished Izi. Rek nodded.

"They'll be more worried about ten thousand greenies on their front step then the few thousand battered _Kytha'yaim_ a dozen parsecs away."

"So then, that's it?" asked Kyra. She poured a glass of clear _tir'kar_ liquor into a glass, attempting to discern the fruit it had been distilled from as she sipped it.

"That's it." confirmed her father. "If we kill Inquisitor Black, we end this war. Right here, right now."

"I don't like it." said Vaiq. "Leaves too many loose ends. What if some knuckledragger captain gets it into his head after Black's gone just to start wastin' things? Eh?"

"The PDF fleets will be returned to their Hubs to defend against any disorganized attack. The Marauders will go to Aay'han, Kel'de, and Kytharia, the three Hubs they know the location of. With any hope the last coherent order to come through will be a general retreat."

"What about Port Royal?" asked Sal. "How did the battle end?"

Rek smiled. "Stormserpents planted an antimatter charge in the main engine blocks. The station's dust and ashes in high orbit now."

"Dez would have enjoyed that."

"They've got a plaque on the new Archives bridge dedicated to him. I hear it's already covered in Astartes wargear and severed heads."

The crew laughed easily. Trophies were a fundamental part of Kytharin war. It was the highest honor to give one away, especially one as prized as an Astartes. To give so many showed the deep respect the Stormserpents had for their leader.

"How are they going to get things across the bridge by the time the war's over?" chuckled Zekt. "It'll be covered."

The happy mood endured over the next few days, a celebratory atmosphere taking hold as everyone sensed the war slowly grinding to a halt in the face of the SDF's horrific losses and the Kytharin's growing sense of imminent victory. Across the Hub Worlds speakers and orators told the stories that had been made, the songs that would be etched into the marble columns in the Chamber of Heroes on Kytharia.

"You're getting good at this."

"I've had some practice."

"What's in the box, again?"

"Ask Zekt."

"You know he's not going to tell me."

"I'm surprised he hasn't already."

"He's a conniving _mir'osik_, but he does have a respect for you."

"I'm glad that hasn't developed into something else. I'd hate for you to feel emasculated."

"Now how would that ever be possible?"

Kyra rolled her eyes, stepping into armored boots and snapping short armored plates onto a Flight armor undersuit.

"It's nice to see getting blown up hasn't changed your charm." she said. Sal nodded slowly, setting down a glass on the end table.

"I'm worried about you, though." he said. He stood up, moving to walk up to her.

"Worried about me?" asked Kyra incredulously. 

"Yes." said Sal. A note of seriousness at odds with his usual demeanor entered his voice.

"Why would you be?" 

"This... this quest you're on." said Sal. "Don't you think it's time to lay down the sword? We could pick a little villa on Ven'couyt, up in the Highlands above Sai'rag, maybe. Raise some kids and settle down."

Kyra's mouth twitched in the approximation of a smile. She wrapped her arms around Sal's chest, hugging him closely. 

"Sal, _Sal'ika_, _mah amate_, I'm twenty-seven winters old. You're twenty-eight. We don't settle down. We travel, we share, we lose, we win."

She looked at him, the pair making a solid eye contact. 

"We love." she said. "But most of all, we _fight_. We have to."

Sal returned the hug, and Kyra released him, walking towards the door. 

"You'd make a great demagogue." said Sal. Kyra turned.

"Too much talking. Nothing to kill except time." she replied. Sal laughed and flopped back on the bed as she left, going over the conversation in his head.

Izi was looking at a low-spectrum medical scan on the bridge's holotable, scribbling notes on a holoslate. Vaiq was on the other end of the table, eating a bag of frozen fruits and nuts. Small crumbs flew onto the projection table as he talked.

"-and so I told him, I said "better back off, mate, before I take a pike and stick it up your-"

Izi silenced him with a look. 

"Stop eating and talking." she said. "Or at least keep your arc of fire under control. I keep looking up and thinking someone's got cancer from all the spots on the projector."

She swiped the specks off the table with an irritated flick of her arm. Vaiq stuffed another handful of food into his mouth, oblivious to her protests.

"What are you looking for anyways?" he asked. "Isn't those the scans from after we kicked that Grey Knight's arse?"

"Yeah," said Izi. "Something's not right about it, though."

She leaned in closer, adjusting the magnification.

"Oh, gods." she said. She looked down at the projector, hoping Vaiq had sprayed more food onto it. It was clean.

"That's not... oh, gods." 

Vaiq swallowed with a grotesque choking sound as his anatomy protested the massive intake of food.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Something that is going to end extremely badly." said Izi. "We might want to hurry up this little assassination."

"_What is it?_" repeated Vaiq. 

"_Domina te kyhaldae_." said Izi quietly.


----------



## dark angel

Great work Dirge


----------



## Dirge Eterna

If you read carefully enough into this you'll know what that means, but if you do know, DO NOT SAY ANYTHING. This is early warning for the people that read this regularly. My last little revelation is going to be a shocker for anyone who doesn't know what that means. Feel free to PM me with guesses, and if you get it right I will confirm it.


----------



## deathbringer

I think I know
I think but then who knows
With u dirge
great work cant wait for the rap up


----------



## Dirge Eterna

This has surpassed my wildest estimations of views lol. Glad it had such a fan base, and I think only one or two updates from now I'll be signing off for the last time with this fic. Work progresses on _The Watcher_, which has become less of a grim and subdued work to a more over exaggerated and rather funny romp across the Warhammer Fantasy world. The main character is still the rather dour person he's supposed to be, but a lot of the minor characters are very exaggerated, at least in respect to their moods and behaviors lol.

Update tomorrow.


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander

AWESOME haha. I leave for a week and come back to some great reading. Great work Dirge, can't wait to see what happens!


----------



## Dirge Eterna

As promised, here it is. Only 2-3 more updates, so I'm trying to drag this out. I'm going to miss the Kytharin :cray:
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What!?" whispered Vaiq. Izi bit her lip and shut the projection down. 

"I'm telling you." she said. "Don't tell her."

"No, no, no." said Vaiq quickly. He dropped the bag of nuts onto the table. "I'm not going to, Gods. I like keeping my limbs attached."

Kyra stepped onto the bridge. Izi quickly slipped the datachip into her satchel and practically sprinted down the hall to the crew quarters.

"Keep what attached?" she asked Vaiq. The Kytharin swallowed visibly and shook his head.

"Alright." said Kyra suspiciously. She tapped a control on the table and an image of Arabica sprang to life, marked with a number of places all centered around Port St. Athein, the major city on the planet. Izi walked onto the bridge with Sal, Sal looking slightly pale and blinking slowly. He licked his lips and sat down at the navigation console heavily, drumming his fingers on the table. Kyra looked around.

"Did somebody die?" asked Kyra. "We're gonna kill Black, and this is over."

"Nobody died." said Sal quietly. He turned back to the navi console. 

Kyra flicked off the holotable. 

"What the hell happened?" she asked pointedly.

"You." she pointed at Vaiq. "You're the most weak-willed here. What. The. Hell. Happened?"

"After Arabica." said Vaiq, looking at Izi. "After Arabica."

Kyra gritted her teeth. "Vaiq, don't frak with me. I'm not feeling good anyways, since frakking last week I've been sick. Now what the hell are you idiots on about?"

"_Ky'ika_," said Sal. "After Arabica."

Kyra threw him a glare, then her expression softened. 

"Fine. I want to know _right_ after Black's body hits the floor."

The holotable sprang to life again. Kyra glared at Vaiq before continuing.

"We've got six main points of interest that Black could be at, five of them heavily guarded. The Arabica garrison has been reinforced by the retreating SDF forces, and with the loss of the _Elysian Fields_ their fleet presence is small. We don't have the military strength to take them head-on, but the _Temperance_ will be on-station as an EWS support vessel. It will just be us on this, no reinforcements, no backup, no bullshit. We were given the run of _Dawn Hammer_'s armory before the mission. Who knows how to make bombs?"

Zekt raised a hand. "I was in the KRA before I joined your crew back at Tal'kadesh."

The KRA was an acronym for the _Kytha'yaim Eresitice Armade_, or the Kytharin Resistance Army, dedicated to learning guerrilla warfare and unconventional tactics.

"I thought you sewed uniforms for the KRA." said Sal. The crew laughed.

"Alright. Our contact on the ground is Pierre De'lakruse, the leader of the anti-SDF movement on Arabica. He'll be giving us shelter while we hunt for Black. We're going to need some quiet on this one. Choose quiet weapons, no Redeemers, no Lashers. Everyone pick a modular bolt so we can swap out ammo."

They exchanged nods, and Kyra flicked the projector off, wincing and touching her midsection.

"What's wrong?" asked Izi, a little too quickly.

"Nothing." said Kyra. "I've been feeling like somebody put me through a grinder since last week, I told you."

Sal bit his lip. "Fine. After Arabica, we all go home."


----------



## dark angel

Once again great work Dirge cant wait for the next part


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## Dirge Eterna

Zekt flipped a switch on the bridge, cutting power to the engines. _Deliverance_ slid out of Relay space, gliding and invisible to the sensor nets. It entered the atmosphere above St. Athein, cruising in a lazy circle until they landed two miles to the west of the city, deep in patch of scrub trees and salt marsh that would camouflage the ship nicely. 

Kyra stepped off the ship, fiddling with her armor, and looked up. A skinny man with a red armband stood at the base of the ramp, holding what looked like a battered Impaler rifle.

"_Suc'coy, Kytha'yaim. Ego Pierre De'lakruse_

Kyra smirked and cocked her head quizzically, surprised. Most humans couldn't even decipher Kytharin, let alone learn to speak it fluently.

"You've quite an accent." she said. Pierre chuckled.

"Comes from speaking without a few essentials." he said. He tapped his chest. "Missing lung from a ricochet."

"The honor is mine, then." said Kyra. Kytharin considered wounded veterans as a double-edged sword. Most of them honored the warrior for the dedication and sacrifice for the Kytharin people. A select few belittled them for allowing themselves to be wounded in the first place.

"I can tell you Sieur Black is staying at the Regent d'Arabica, in the penthouse suite. It does not have a landing pad, but the roof is large enough to permit Orthinopters to come and go."

Kyra shouldered her own weapon, barrel pointing into the sky. Sal, Vaiq, and Izi stomped down the ramp in full Lancer armor.

"Alright team." she said. "Let's do some recces."

--------------------------------------------------------------

Kyra licked her lips. She looked down the barrel of the SRS-2 Retributor rifle, face blackened by charcoal and wearing matte black Flight armor. Sal lay prone next to her, a pair of magnoculars held against his eyes. The Retributor was a heavy sniper, designed to take out Terminators or even light vehicles. With a range of up to three and a half miles, it was favored by assassins and bounty hunters.

"Got one." he said. "That's one of Black's lackeys from Macragge."

"We need to confirm it's him." said Kyra.

Just as the words left her mouth, Adrian Black walked into the room, a glass of clear liquor in his hand. The penthouse's mirrors played havoc with the Retributor's sensors, causing Kyra's aim to be fouled. He'd planned this, no doubt, she thought.

"That's him." said Sal. "The AI's still in his ship's systems. I tabbed it as soon as we dropped in-system. When we want to go in, it'll kill the engines and life support. Zekt can take it out as we exfil."

"Good." said Kyra. The last thing they needed was Black escaping Arabica to go to ground behind the Maginot Sphere.

They stood up and crouched into the doorway set into the roof of Pierre's rebel group's building. A half-dozen rebels stood around the room, carrying makeshift weapons and with their faces covered by scarves or bandannas.

"This is Ace." said Pierre, gesturing to a heavyset man with a pair of thick sunglasses on. "You need anything, he's our quartermaster."

"We brought our own stuff." said Sal. "We probably brought too much, actually. If you need gear after this op we'll have stuff to spare."

"Ah," said Pierre, looking to his men. "_This_ is why we fight, brothers. Think the SDF would do that?"

"Just remember you're not _Kytha'yaim_." said Kyra. "The clans won't take kindly to you, but don't shoot anything more then a look at them, and they'll warm up eventually."

Pierre puffed up a little. "We will fight for a hundred years to be free of the SDF."

The rebels nodded and grunted affirmations.

"OK then." said Kyra. "Let's go get 'em."

------------------------------------------------------- 

Ten minutes later, sixteen Maujassi rebels led by Pierre and the four Kytharin converged outside the Regent d'Arabica, holding a small armory's worth of weapondry.

Two rebels were dressed in fine business suits, carrying briefcases. The others wore a scruffy assortment of rough traveling gear and bulletproof armor, red bands tied around everything. 

Pierre nodded to the suited rebels, and they walked into the hotel, chatting amiably about nothing. A man in Inquisitorial Stormtrooper armor looked them over, and waved them by with a dismissive gesture. 

The first rebel put a narc-stick into his mouth, reaching into his jacket as if for a lighter. The Stormtrooper didn't even look up as the silenced Autopistol appeared in the hand. A shot rang out, and the man pitched back, blood pumping from his shattered skull. The rebels poured into the lobby, passing the dead Stormtrooper and making for the elevator. 

"This is him." said Kyra. She projected an image of Black's face out of her gauntlet's holoslate, showing the rebels. "He's mine."

Pierre nodded and hit the PENTHOUSE button on the elevator. 

The elevator chimed as they passed floors, playing a set of instrumental music that seemed ludicrous given the situation.

"Do they know?" asked Sal. Kyra shook her head. 

"No, I've tapped into their net. They're looking for the guard downstairs. We don't have much time."

The doors opened and a split-second later a slug the size of someone's fist smashed into the first rebel, blowing him neatly in half and lodging itself into the guts of the next man. The rebels poured into the hallway, killing a young woman with a riot gun.

Kyra ducked left as a hail of autorifle fire came down the corridor, catching a Maujassi in the legs. He wailed and the Stormtrooper leaned out, trying to finish him off. Kyra shot him in the head and left Izi to sort out the wounded rebel. Gunshots and shouts mingled as the rebels swarmed over the penthouse. A group of three passed Kyra, taking up positions to breach a door. As one man brought up a foot to kick in the door, a hail of lasfire cut him down, shooting through the door. A second later the rebels bashed the door open, confronting a Stormtrooper captain in his nightwear, holding a hellpistol loosely. They shot him a dozen times and moved on. 

Sal fired a Lasher down the main hallway, cutting a marble column in half and collapsing it onto a man with a laspistol. Return fire from the penthouse's steps cut down another Maujassi and Sal hurled a grenade up the steps, a twisted shriek rewarding him as the bomb went off. Vaiq and Izi flashed by, Vaiq holding his sword in one hand. The surviving rebels regrouped at the base of the bedroom steps, charging up the flight with a shattering roar. Pierre reached the top, turning to wave at Kyra. He stopped suddenly, and flew back down the stairs as a bolt pistol blew the top of his head off.

Sal and Izi strafed left and right, tossing a grenade into the chokepoint between the stairs and door. A man wailed and flew sideways as his bolt pistol skidded across the floor away from him. Kyra smashed open the door, letting the rebels flood into the main bedroom. They ran to the walls, taking up positions. A broken window was at one wall, and a man lay dead across a table, a pistol in his hand.

"No way he killed himself." said Sal. He pulled the body up by it's hair.

"Nope. That's not him." said Kyra. "Though I do recognize him. You remember that arms dealer from the last time we were here?"

"Yeah. Too bad for him."

"Did he jump?" asked Izi. She looked over the side of the building.

"Yeah, he must have." said Sal. He put a finger to his helmet's breather grill, moving to the closet. Kyra nodded. The rebels took up positions around the door, Sal leaning back to bash it open with the butt of his Lasher.

A half-dozen shots rang out at once. Two glanced off Lancer armor and struck Maujassi rebels. A third struck Izi in the ankle, making her cry out and fall to one knee. Sal caught four of them in the chest, making him stagger slowly. His hand went to his chest, coming away wet with blood. He turned, looking at Kyra, and fell to the floor.

"NO!" she screamed. Every soldier in the room raised weapons and fired into the closet, shredding the door. A man-shaped shadow twitched and jerked as the hail of weaponsfire impacted his chest and limbs, tossing him around like a puppet with it's strings cut. Inquisitor Adrian Black collapsed to the floor.

Kyra dropped the Impaler and ran to Sal, turning him over and pulling his torso up. He raised and hand and unclipped his helmet, letting it fall away. He smiled weakly.

"Armor needs some work." he said. Kyra pulled her helmet off, looking at him.

"You're going to be OK." she said. Sal chuckled, turning to a cough that wet his lips with blood.

"Exploding bullets." said Sal. "You're a bad liar."

"Sal, no, no." pleaded Kyra. The rebels stood around, weapons slack as they watched. Vaiq helped Izi over, looking at the dying Kytharin.

Sal blinked slowly, seeming too tired to speak. Kyra shook him.

"Sal, stay with me, you're... you're going to be OK."

Sal's eyes fluttered, and he suddenly regained a sense. He looked at Kyra, only a second of eye contact, and placed a gauntleted hand on her stomach.

"Kad." said Sal. "Call him Kad."

Kyra looked at him. "What? You mean-"

Sal smiled at her, nodding, then went limp, his eyes closing. Kyra wiped her face, smearing blood and tears onto her gauntlets. She hugged Sal's body, then lay him on the floor, standing up slowly. Inquisitor Black coughed wetly, blood pumping onto his front from a dozen bullet wounds and twice that Impaler spikes. A layer of subdermal armor had taken most of the impacts, but the Inquisitor was mortally wounded. Kyra picked up Sal's Lasher, a fire burning in her eyes.

She flipped Black over, looking the Inquisitor in the eyes. A wicked bayonet was attached to Sal's weapon. She lay it against his neck.

"Go on," she growled. "Beg."

Black laughed as more blood spilled down his front. "You think you've won?"

Kyra leaned down, whispering to the man.

"This wasn't about me." she said. "Within a week, the outer systems of the Pacificus are going to realize the Maginot Sphere is breached. Imagine, Inquisitor, Orks, Hrud, Eldar raiders and Kytharin pirates, all swarming in. Maybe even the followers of Chaos, if they stop their war long enough. Your Imperium won't last the winter."

Black thrashed weakly. "It's not going to work. The Emperor never dies."

"Your Emperor is already dead." said Kyra. "Didn't we tell you?"

"You lie."

"Ah, but we don't." Kyra had a triumphant smirk on her face, masking the tears still running down it and pooling in her armor's neck ring.

"The Fall wasn't caused by rebels." she said. "The Astronomican, the beacon you use for Warp Travel, has been dead for six ages. The Beacon only extended to the outer fringes of the SDF, which includes _every single_ warzone you've ever fought in. How does that compare to your victory here, Inquisitor? Our victory is _complete_."

"No, no it's not true." choked Black. "That's impossible!"

Kyra set a boot on the fore grip of the Lasher, placing a little weight on the bayonet.

"Believe." she said softly, and stomped down, hard. Black's head rolled away from his body, a flood of vital fluids pouring onto the carpet. 

"Kyra." said Vaiq. He put a hand around her shoulders. "I'm... I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." she said. Kyra bent down, removing Sal's ammunition and identifying tags. She stood up, then knelt down again, gently removing his helmet and putting it in her pack.

"Goodbye, _Sal'ika_." she said painfully. She bit her lip, and gestured to Vaiq. The Kytharin pulled a KE-9 HAVOK charge from his pack, capable of leveling the entire block.

"Let's send him out with a bang." said Kyra. She knelt down and hit the activation rune.

The Kytharin, accompanied by the rebels, left the hotel. As Zekt piloted _Deliverance_ away from the planet, a devastating explosion consumed much of downtown St. Athein.

"No more." said Kyra softly. "No more war."
-------------------------------------------------------------

_Eight months later, Sai'rag Apothecarium, Ven'couyt_

"You did great." said Vaiq. He stood in his battered Lancer armor, the chipped and notched powerblade strapped to his back. Izi walked into the room, wearing light medicae robes and holding a cloth-wrapped bundle, which she smiled at, then handed to a tearful and exhausted Kyra. 

"He's beautiful." said Izi. "Healthy baby boy, _Ky'ika_."

"Yes, yes he is." said Kyra breathlessly. She looked at the baby, a curious expression in her eyes.

"What are you gonna call 'im?" asked Vaiq. "And when are you gonna tell your old man? He's gettin' kinda cranky with me of late. I can't keep covering for you after he rips my head off."

Kyra smiled at the baby, thinking of Sal's words in the penthouse.

_Kad. Call him Kad._

"Kad." she said quietly. Vaiq cocked his head.

"Sal named him." explained Kyra. _Kad_ was the Kytharin word for "future". 

"Figures he's still frakking with us after he's dead." said Vaiq. "My name means "to drink", and my family name means "smells like a dead bird."

"Fits you perfectly." said Kyra. Izi laughed, checking the charts.

"Well, humor's a good sign." she said. 

Kyra smiled at baby Kad, then looked at Vaiq pointedly. He handed her a small commlink.

She keyed in Rek's number and waited until the old Kytharin picked up the other end.

"_Ky'ika_!" he said. "Your mother and I've been worried sick, what's going on? We saw you'd gone to the apothecarium. Did a mission go wrong?"

"_Veer_," began Kyra, exhausted. "Everything's fine, better then fine. I've got some news for you, though."

"What, my daughter?"

"_Ka'veer_."

_Grandfather_.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

IT'S OVER!

After 120+ replies, 2000+ views, and a LOT of time, Redemption finally comes to an end, with a beginning of sorts. Many thanks as always to my loyal readers, even those of you who don't post feedback and just mooch, or "lurk" as Shogun Nate so aptly puts it. Happy 4th of July to all those of you on the winning end of the Revolution, and good luck next time to all of you on the losing end. Love your tea, though. Just don't tax it so much.

Work as always continues on _The Watcher_, which I will begin as soon as I get some time this week. God, this is really bittersweet for me. It was really hard to kill off a main character, especially Sal, so much so I've got an alternate ending where he doesn't die, and debated with myself for ages on which to use, but in the end I believe Redemption lived up to his name, redeeming the Reavers, redeeming _Deliverance_'s crew, and certainly the majority of the Kytharin that came and went throughout the story. I'm dreadfully going to miss this fic, and all it's characters, but all good things must come to an end, so I might as well end it with you guys.

_Kytha'yaim es saulte tu!_
-Dirge


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## deathbringer

Great work dirge
I wish I could give you some rep but apparently i must spread it around
Fantastic story
enjoyed reading every minute
Time to start the watcher
Thanks for the great story dirge


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## waltzmelancholy_07

Dirge... Don't grow tired of this: "THAT WAS AWESOME!!!!"... :laugh:... Expecting the watcher in the coming months...


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## dark angel

Dirge that was great! please tell me the Kytharin will be returning in the future?


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## Dirge Eterna

I'm still undecided on that. Am I going to feature them in more work? Absolutely. Am I going to write another only-Kytharin story? I don't know. The next project I have in the works, after _The Watcher_, is going to blow some minds, but it's very early days yet. Chances are you might be playing as a _Kytha'yaim_, but then again I may switch it to a Tau cook for all the planning I've done on it so far. But more details will become apparent, I promise.


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## dark angel

"Chances are you might be playing as a Kytha'yaim," does that mean a RP?


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## Dirge Eterna

In a sense, yes. I've yet to work out all the details. More of an interactive story then a true RP, but you get the idea.


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