Jengal Steel watched the main repeater screen as his target took the hammering his guns dished out and and kept on going. The shields on the Eternal Will were just too **** strong. Maneuvering thrusters had fired, changing the vessels orientation and then the main drive burned.

"Navigation!" he barked. "Calculate their new course and adjust to intercept." The bastards were going for a slingshot maneuver, probably one to set them into an orbit where they could more effectively utilize Penitas's own gravity for an escape course.

"Entering data from surveyors into cogitator now," replied the pirate. "Main logic engines working." There was a moment of painful silence broken only by breathing and the hum of machinery. "Results coming in. Reverse course slingshot."

"Impossible!" Steel barked. "Not at their velocity. Even with an emergency burn! Put it through again!"

There was another painful moment. "Result confirmed."

"The stresses will break that ship," he muttered angrily.

"Orders?" asked the helmsman.

"Adjust course and get a message to the Hag. Let her know that they're coming back."

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Nareena Hast glowered at the display. "They're coming back, the stupid bastards. Gunnery crews to stand by."

The gunnery crews were ready. The terrible fire raging in Edran's Revenge's corridors had finally been extinguished and damage control teams were now working on repair rather than containment. The surviving gunnery crews had conscripted regular crew members to assist in the brute force work of loading shells into the ammo conveyors.

Ahead of them the Eternal Will had completed its slingshot around the nameless moon of Penitas and was heading towards them. Straggling behind it was Iron Claw , trying valiantly but vainly to catch the swifter vessel after Selanon Kay had given him the slip. If the Revenge could wound or slow the Will for long enough, then the Iron Claw could get into the fight. Nareena Hast had no intention of that happening. By the time Iron Claw arrived, she meant to have the Will's crew hanging on meat hooks.

This time the Eternal Will had to challenge Edran's Revenge head on if it wanted to continue accelerating. Any course change would cost them if they wanted to escape Iron Claw . The surviving macro cannon and laser batteries came to bear on the Eternal Will's approximate position.

An blinding bright beam hammered the pirate's void shields as the Eternal Will struck. Hast snarled. "Open fire!" The gunner knew that they were beyond the range where his weapons could be accurately be brought to bear, but obeyed. Beams of coherent light and titanic explosions filled the space around the Eternal Will . There were no direct hits and her void shields shrugged off the barrage.

Inside Edran's Revenge capacitor banks whined as they charged up for another volley and grunting men hauled on chains to move shells into positions on a half functional automated loading system. A grinding moan filled the upper decks as motors shifted mammoth guns to bear on the Eternal Will's new position.

The ships exchanged another volley of fire as they closed. Power was channeled away from the engines to feed the guns and void shields. Hits hammered each ship as the distance separating them shrank and their shields struggled to dump energy and recover capacity as they continued to pour fire into one another. It was a duel the already wounded Edran's Revenge was slowly losing, but the pirate ship was larger than the Inquisitorial vessel and as tough as all human space craft. The fight would not end just because her void shields failed.

The fusion beams struck the aft hull and the prow of the Revenge , overloading her void shields in a blast of sheet lightning. The guns went silent as they cooled and their capacitor banks were charged for another volley. The Revenge struck back.

A macro cannon shell exploded in a blast of atomic fury over the Eternal Will's aft section. A moment later a volley from the Revenge's heavy laser batteries smashed through the locally weakened void shields and into the engineering section.

A brief cheer went up on the command deck of the Revenge . The Eternal Will's retaliation was swift. Both turrets of fusion beamers locked onto the same spot. The combined beams bored through armour, hardened bulkheads, and the plasma reactors themselves. The pirate vessel blew itself in half, clouds of cooling plasma and chunks of metal drifting away from the wreckage.

"Damage report!" Kay barked.

"Engineering here. Two thruster tubes rendered inoperable. Allow them to cool while drifting and we can perform the necessary rites to return them to service in a day or so."

"We don't have a day," said Kay. They also couldn't afford to drift. He cut the vox link. "Inquisitor, outrunning target beta just became impossible."

"Options Navigator-Captain?" asked Jolan Gix calmly.

"We cannot outrun target beta. Beta is twice the size of alpha and heavily armed. Entering the warp represents a grave risk to the ship, but it remains an option of last resort."

"Typical pirate tactics in this situation?" asked Gix.

"Varies, but since they use human pattern ships they will likely attempt to wound our ship, force a boarding action, and kill or enslave us. The Eternal Will represents a great prize for them."

"Even if they have orders to kill us?"

"Probably. The ship is still a great prize."

"Good," said Gix. "Then there is a greater chance of this working. Turn us around and engage the enemy craft directly. Minimum power wasted on weapons fire, but maintain full charge on all weapons system. Void shields and evasive action are to be priorities."

"You mean to close with the enemy, while suffering a minimum amount of damage."

"Correct. Execute my orders."

"Your will." The Eternal Will fired maneuvering jets and turned to face the oncoming pirate vessel. The main drive fired, beginning the process of killing its velocity and caryirng the ship towards the Iron Claw .

"Inquisitor, I beg you, if you have a plan share it now so we may properly execute it."

"The course is to be as close to the enemy vessel as possible and not result in a collision." He activated his voxcaster. "Gard, I need you on the bridge."

He resumed his address to the captain. "As we reach the closest point to the enemy vessel, we'll need precise action within a limited time frame. The machine spirit of the ship is the best choice to execute the maneuver. No one on board knows the machine spirit better than Gard."

The bridge door cycled open. "Inquisitor," said Gard, "I am at your disposal."

"I need to you to prepare instructions for the machine spirit. It is to bring the ship as close as possible to the enemy vessel and use the ship's armament to disable the enemy ship's weapons."

"As you command Inquisitor. From my analysis of the enemy ship, its void shields will be able to withstand a full volley by our weapons unless the shields are already near critical and by the current power system priorities I deem that unlikely."

"Are you familiar with operations of the Adeptus Titanicus?"

"The Mechanicus who operate titans? Only in passing."

"We're going to borrow from them. And that's why we need the ship's weapon to fire in a very narrow window of opportunity."

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"They're coming at us," said the surveyor operator. "Their main engine output is reduced."

"So the Hag hurt them before she lost my ship," Jengal Steel muttered. "They're trying to run past us and get to the inner system before we can change course and catch them." He smiled showing a mouth half full of metal teeth. It wasn't going to work.

"Fire braking thrusters when we enter weapon range. Master Gunner, stand by with macro cannon bombardment. Bring down their void shields. Crews to boarding stations. Arm harpoons."

The two ships closed on each other. The batteries of macro cannons on the Iron Claw opened up, filling the space around the Eternal Will with atomic explosions. The Imperial ship fired maneuvering thrusters at seemingly randomly intervals as it closed, creating an evasive pattern that allowed it to avoid much of the bombardment as it closed.

The Eternal Will struck back with occasional blasts from its fusion beamers, sending sheets of lightning flashing over the Iron Claw's void shields with every hit. The void shields of the Inquisitorial vessel neared critical as the two vessels neared the passing point.

"Turn over command to the machine spirit on my mark," ordered Selanon Kay as the Iron Claw loomed on the display. "Now."

The two vessels were merely a dozen kilometers apart when the machine spirit fired maneuvering thrusters and targeted the Iron Claw's macro cannon batteries. The Eternal Will abruptly shifted towards the pirate vessel as the two ships sped towards each other.

As the two ships passed barely one hundred meters separating them, the bubbles of their void shields merged. For a fraction of a second the ships were naked to each other. For the machine spirit of the Eternal Will this was plenty of time. The laser cannons burned into the missile tubes on the Iron Claw's flank, burning through armour, igniting fuel, and opening the weapon bays to space. The fusion beams obliterated two of the four macro cannon batteries on the Iron Claw's dorsal surface in blasts unbearable heat.

A few shots from the flickered by the Eternal Will as it passed and then the ship's luck ran out. Eight grapple launchers fired. Two hit, slamming spears with pop out barbs into the Eternal Will's hull connected to the Iron Claw by massive adamantine chains. Magnetic grappler fields of xenos origin kicked in as the chains took up the strain of holding the Eternal Will .

"Inquisitor," said Selanon Kay. "We've been grappled. Stand by. The enemy means to board us." A cluster of boarding pods left the side of the Iron Claw , burning through space toward the Eternal Will . "Correction. Boarding pods on the way."

Four boarding pods blasted into space from the side of the Iron Claw . The defence turrets on the side of the Eternal Will turned two of the craft to scrap before they reached the Imperial ship. Boarding claws locked on and laser cutters powered up as they prepared to breach the Eternal Will's hull.

As they did so, the magnetic grapplers increased power and the harpoon lines retracted, bringing the Eternal Will in close enough to use boarding corridor and far too close for it use its armament on the Iron Claw without risking damaging itself. Inside the hull of the pirate ship, hundred of battle hungry pirates armed themselves with a variety of weapons. Shotguns, vibropikes, lasguns, cut down autorifles, cleavers, flamers, flechette sprayers, and grenade launchers were among the most common weapons carried by the disparate band of rogues.

The boarding pods were different. Each of them contained a war pack of Czur. The Imperium had wiped out their core worlds nearly eight millenia ago, reducing them to a few scattered colonies and drifting space travelers. Hatred had been their racial religion for eight millenia. They were more than eager to kill humans for profit.

They were a stocky species, averaging about one point six meters at their shoulder hunch. Their necks thrust their bear-like muzzles forward and they were covered in short, thick fur. Their clawed, six fingered hands held shields of ceramite plate and las carbines. More plate covered their torsos, the outside of their limbs, and the top of their heads and muzzles. Rebreather masks dangled around their throats. Ropes of saliva dripped from their jaws as they salivated at the prospect of killing.

Jolan Gix exited the bridge, Gard Vikal in tow. The Inquisitor activated his vox. "Hethor, you are in charge of repelling boarders. Commissar Nofield is his second. Domina, meet me and Gard in the teleportation chamber. Danell?"

"Your will Inquisitor."

"Use your judgment. Kill the enemy and create chaos as you see fit. The rest of you, you know your chain of command. Kill the unclean and the xenos scum."

As the inquisitor spoke the last part of the hull gave way under the cutters of the first boarding pod. A blast of compressed steam blew the hull section into the ship. A pair of steam powered launchers sent grenades scattering into the interior of the ship. They detonated with a dull whump and sent high velocity shrapnel flying. The war pack, twenty strong, poured out of the tight space they had been confined in. There was no one to greet them, not even the mangled bodies of the dead.

They growled in frustration. One of the pack leaders in the center of the mass barked an order and they trotted down one side of the corridor, weapons at the ready. An armoured hatch blocked their way, but they were quite familiar with the operation of human technology.

The lead Czur spun the wheel and pushed the hatch open revealing more corridor and a T shaped junction. Crouched down in the T junction, using the wall as cover, was Hethor D'eckor. The big man fired a frag grenade from the underbarrel launcher of his hell carbine at the bulkhead beside the the Czur. The blast sprayed the tough aliens with shrapnel that penetrated deeply into any exposed flesh that was unlucky enough to come in contact with it.

The Czur howled, but they were still constrained by the choke point. Hethor couldn't tell if he killed any or even if he'd seriously injured them, but that was the nature of battle. The lead Czur, blood mingled with his fur, had let his shield slip. Hethor put a tight burst into his upper torso. The first two high powered las pulses burned and cracked the breastplate. The second pair punched through the weakened armour and blew apart flesh. The Czur evidently kept some important bits of their anatomy in the upper chest as the alien toppled forward and lay still.

The Czur behind it roared forward, sending pulses from their carbines all over the corridor. The one behind them pitched a sinister metal ball off the wall opposite Hethor. A loud boom filled the corridor as the war pack eagerly pressed ahead, lusting for the kill.

Jolan waited for the armoured door to slide open and strode into the teleportation chamber. A drum fed grenade launcher was clenched in his armoured hands. Domina was there, her dark blue power armour marked with Sororitas emblems. A bolt pistol and monoedged knife were attached to her thighs and she held a massive flamer. "I am ready," she said.

Jolan turned towards the armoured window. "Gard?"

The vox crackled. "Setting coordinates inquisitor. Any preferences to where you end up?"

"Near where they are mounting boarding operations, but not among them. Side corridor, where we can mount a counter attack."

"As you wish. I think I've found something suitable. If you and Domina would step on the platform we can begin."

They climbed onto the thick disc of the teleportation platform. "Initiate," said Gix. The air swam and distorted and they were gone.

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Hethor staggered down the corridor. His armour and refractor field had protected him from the worst of the concussion bomb, but the whole ship still threatened to spin around him. A hand clamped down on his arm.

"Here," said Mikal Camron. "Come on." The young officer threw the veteran's arm over his shoulder and grabbed Hethor around the waist "Help's here." Blind grenades burst behind them. Strong arms grabbed Hethor and helped him forward and around the bend. Camron's troopers were set up in the intersection to cover the corridor. The swirling smoke of the blind grenades was disrupted by more bangs from detonating concussion bombs.

"'bout time you got here," Hethor growled. "Stormtrooper glory boys. Never on time for the party."

The war pack charged through the cloud of smoke, their carbines firing and filling the corridor with las blasts. Hellguns answered back. Bursts of high intensity las fire tore the ceramite battle shields to pieces and then cratered and penetrated the armour behind them to find vulnerable flesh.

The Cruz roared and charged. Despite their stocky bodies and heavy burdens, they were quite swift. The leaders of the war pack fell and then the ones behind them fell. The Cruz's own carbines took their toll. Several troopers took hits that burned deep holes armour, but didn't penetrate. One unlucky bastard took a las bolt in the throat and fell, almost decapitated by the shot.

Frag grenades fired low mutilated three Cruz in sprays of lethal shrapnel, but most of them received only minor injuries thanks to their shields and armour. They crashed into melee with guns blazing and curved serrated blades in their hands.

"For the Emperor!" Camron roared, bolt pistol in one hand and chainsword in the other.

"The Emperor!" the troopers roared back as they fired point blank at their enemies, smashed them with rifle butts, and drew monoedged blades for close in fighting.

The second boarding pod containing a Cruz war pack breached the hull of the Eternal Will . The docking collar sealed the breach and the Cruz poured out onto a long bay. The opposite wall was lined with thick power cables that fed power to the las cannon capacitors and the void shield generators. Except for the Cruz, it was empty.

Snarling they headed for the closest door. The closest Cruz was about five meters from it when it slid open to reveal two servitors clad in black metal. The smaller one had a heavy stub gun replacing its right arm and cruel claws instead of a left hand. An ammo feed cable lead to its back.

The other was larger and its whole body deformed to accommodate and support the heavy bolter built into its right shoulder. Targeting beams from the heads of both servitors floated over the Cruz in a brief moment before they opened fire.

The heavy, armour piercing slugs from the stubbers chewed up ceramite shields and armour, but it provided some protection. The diamanite tipped, high velocity heavy bolter rounds punched right through to blow enormous holes in flesh. The reports of the guns echoed throughout the bay as the servitors hammered the Cruz with a lethal storm of metal.

The front rank disintegrated into bloody gobs of flesh and fur under the hammer. Las beams struck the servitors and cratered their armour, but did not stop them. A concussion bomb rolled out from the panicking mass and blew the stubber servitor off of its feet. The other kept firing. The war pack broke and both servitors continued firing into the Cruz's exposed backs. None of them made it back to the boarding pod.

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Camron but a bolt into a Cruz's skull at point blank range. The rocket powered slug punched through the ursinoid's skull easily and detonated in its brain. It fell over, blood and grey matter leaking out its ears. Another Cruz shield punched the young officer, knocking him down. It raised its serrated blade to finish him.

Hethor's bolt pistol put a round between its mid ribs and another under the armpit. The Cruz toppled as the big veteran entered the fray. A short burst blew the shield of another Cruz to pieces. The second burst wrecked his breastplate and then blew open his chest.

Hethor's archeotech power sword cut through Cruz blades, shields, and limbs. The Cruz on the flanks of the war pack howled as arms were severed and the pack mired in disarray. The storm troopers rallied as Hethor emptied what was left of his clip into a Cruz in a spray of blood and bone chips. Hethor lunged and ran another Cruz through.

Hethor sliced off the wrist of another Cruz, dropping the six fingered hand and its blade to the deck. His next blow sliced off a chunk of its shield and the follow up went through the Cruz's should and deep into its chest. The Cruz fell. Hethor looked around. They were all dead.

His limbs felt heavy all of a sudden. "Treat wounds and reload," he ordered. "This isn't the last of those xenos bastards."

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Domina and Jolan materialized in flash of light. They were in a corridor near a very large gallery. Jolan advanced toward it and Domina was just a step behind him.

The corridor connected to a gantry catwalk midway up the wall. Spread out in front of them was a gridwork of catwalks above and around a pair of extendable boarding corridors. The gantries allowed troops to take up positions to fire down on boarders if the corridors were taken by a counter attack and allowed a lot of troops to be mustered and pushed into the tubes.

At least a hundred pirates, mostly human, were massed on the floor and the catwalks. Some of the pirates were just noticing the intruders. Too late.

Jolan opened up on the nearest cluster on the catwalk with the grenade launcher. Thump. Thump. Thump. Two frag grenades hit flesh, a third hit the railing. The blasts drove shrapnel into exposed flesh and through light armour at close range. The five pirates were nearly torn in half. Blood sprayed down to the deck and the mangled meat hit the ground.

Domina hauled the heavy flamer to the edge of the catwalk and angled it down. Gouts of thrice blessed promethium descended upon the pirates below as she fanned the spray against the mass of pirates. There were more loud thumps and the crack of detonating grenades as Jolan continued to kill. From beneath her came screams of pain, fear, and rage as pirates tried to dodge out of the way or fired weapons up at her.

Bullets and las blasts struck around them. Most missed. There were a few flashes as Jolan's conversion field kicked in. Armour was nicked and gouged. The battle had begun in earnest.

I had lost all hope... Captivating indeed.... I really liked the part about Jolan moral quandaries. And his slow path to damnation...

A humanoid figure drifted between the two ships. He wore a space suit of surveyor fooling material the colour of the void. His heat exchangers were shut down and the suit was as well insulated as one would expect a space suit to be.

Corpses from shattered boarding pods drifted past him. He passed through an expanding haze of frozen blood particles. The hull of the Iron Claw loomed ahead. He had timed his leap correctly and did not need to trigger maneuvering jets again. He bent his knees and prepared for impact.

A shudder ran up his body as he hit hull. The magnetic boots prevented him from bouncing away. Keys began to walk. He had some distance to travel before he reentered the ship and wrecked havoc.

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A las beam flashed through the air and the grenade launcher in Jolan Gix's hands exploded into molten fragments. The inquisitor didn't waste breath cursing. He dropped the remnants of the weapon as bullets bounced off his armour and drew his bolt pistol.

A large pool of flame was burning beneath them and the screams of the damned were rising from the floor. Domina had burned dozens before spraying the catwalks with clinging, hell hot flames. She had redirected her flamer back down to the lower levels, burning up another cluster of pirates. Trickles of liquid fire leaked down from the grating to the floor, creating new puddles of flame.

Smoke was filling the air, which was shimmering from the heat, but those were not obstacles to those who were wearing power armour. Gix put two bolts into the chest of the nearest pirate, causing his ribcage to explode in a shower blood and gore. The inquisitor made a sweeping motion and the power of the warp knocked a dozen pirates off the catwalks down the lake of fire filling half the floor eight meters below. They screamed briefly on the way down.

With the catwalks cleared Gix shifted his attention to the floor. Domina had set down her empty flamer and was in the process of detaching her empty fuel packs. Jolan opened a replacement drum for the grenade launcher that was attached to the side of his armour.

Grenades flew out of the drum, saturating the remaining parts of the floor not covered in flame. A long and loud string of cracks filled the air with shrapnel and blood. Domina's bolt pistol barked and a wounded man fell to the deck that was now lined with the maimed and the dead. "I think that is enough," said Gix. "We have bigger fish to fry."

"Yes Inquisitor," she replied steadily. Jolan headed towards the bow. The schematics that Gard had given him based on the Eternal Will's surveyor scans indicated there was another boarding section in the next bay.

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There were few men aboard the Iron Claw more violent and cruel than Sevestios N'rake. When he and his two cronies shouldered their way to the front of the boarding corridor, no one opposed them with anything more serious than curses and grumblings. The trio were deadly, well armed, and foul tempered. They were also widely known to be almost supernaturally tough. That was because they were no longer merely men.

N'rake had an erratic psychic gift and that had caught up with him after a particularly heavy drinking bout port side. A daemon of the warp had managed to slip in and make its way home. N'rake had become more volatile and powerful after that. He had also covertly overpowered his friends and drawn runes on their flesh with his knife, bringing two more daemons over.

They were not mighty daemons, but already they were beginning to warp their host bodies. The human vessels, which only contained a flicker of their original occupants within, were beginning to fail under the strain of hosting even comparatively minor warp entities. They intended to use their time well. They would ****, torture, kill, maim, and torment where they could and before they were finished they would lay claim to new bodies so they continue their revels in the world of flesh. Such exquisite delights awaited them within the Eternal Will . They could scarcely contain themselves.

The cutting lasers switched off and the hydraulic rams smashed the cut away chunk of the hull into the ship. The daemons lead the pirates into the Eternal Will , howling with glee. The orgy of slaughter was about to begin again.

Danell Keys opened the panel, grabbed the manual control and twisted. Nothing. The pirates either failed to go through the usual maintenance rituals or had deliberately disabled it. The assassin opened his tool pouch and withdrew a scalpel-like power blade. He sliced through the metal around the manual override handle to expose the circuitry behind it. Now it was just a matter of . . . ah. The gloves made his hands clumsy, but he managed to splice the wires together. The door cycled open. He hit the close button once inside. It locked behind him.

The inner airlock door was massive and armoured. Nothing short of a purestrain genestealer would have a chance of penetrating that door. At most, the door could slow Danell Keys. It cycled open. Two men were there with bell mouthed flechette launchers. Everything seemed so slow.

Keys shot them both in the face with his hellpistol. Eye searing scarlet beams bored through their faces and blew their brains out the back of their skulls in a jet of reddish steam and bone chips. Grenades bounced from the assassin's hand to either side of the corridor. The door finished opening. Razor edged shrapnel filled the hall.

Keys unsealed his helmet and tossed it aside. He pulled his hood over his head and his visor of black armourplast locked into place. Choke gas from one of his grenades filled the corridor and trickled into the airlock as the assassin ditched the last of his space suit and resecured his weapons. The assassin stepped over the bodies and began to go hunting.

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Shala Nofield's vox spoke. "Forced entry in Deck Three, Section Kappa," said a bland voice of a servitor.

"Move!" she shouted to the men and servitors behind her. To be fair, the commissar had long legs and was wearing less armour and carrying less gear than the stormtroopers. A breastplate protected her torso with the flak armour woven into her uniform and her leather storm coat made up the rest of her protection along with photoblock contacts and filter plugs. She raised her bolt pistol. "For the Emperor!"

"The Emperor!" the half dozen human troops following her roared back. The combat servitors said nothing, having had even the capacity for faith stripped from their brains. Batista Vonnil trailed behind them, robes flapping around his stick like form.

"Intruders moving to Deck Three, Section Zeta."

They were close now. "Bioscanner!" she barked.

"Boarders closing commissar," said the trooper with the bioscanner. His voice was clipped and cold. "Estimate two score."

"Set up in that cross junction ahead. Servitors in the center, everyone else hug wall." The armoured flesh of the combat servitors clanked ahead as the humans hurriedly took cover.

"Distance?"

"Thirty meters and closing commissar."

"Servitors alpha-sigma-gamma," she ordered. Scanning beams tied into targeting systems were activated and ammo loaders cycled. She had four servitors with her, two armed with heavy stubbers and flamers, and two armed with doubled barrelled, rapid fire assault lases mounted on crushing hands and chain blades in their other arms. All of them were heavily armoured.

"Commissar!" screamed Batista. He had fallen well behind the running soldiers. "Commissar there is-"

The entity that had once been Sevestios N'rake came around the corner with his possessee comrades just behind. "Fire!" she yelled. Hellbeams and 13mm slugs filed the corridor. Several struck the possessees. Flesh was blasted away and holes blown completely through their bodies. Then came the wind of fire as the flamers opened up.

The flames died inches from N'rake. His eyes glowed with emerald light. The other pirates hesitated to follow in their wake, as terrified of their 'comrades' as the Imperials were. Bleeding from a half dozen fatal wounds each, the daemons closed.

Nofield's bolt pistol barked in the pale woman's hand. N'rake fell in a spray of blood, bone, and flesh, his right thigh blown apart by the bolt impact. "The Golden Throne!" Nofield shouted as she touched the activation rune on her chainsword and trained her bolt pistol on the next possessee. "The Emperor protects!" The bolter barked in her hand. Meaty chunks of the possessee's ribcage flew through the air as bolter shells tore its chest apart and staggered it. It still came. Hell beams blasted craters in its limbs and torso. It did not fall.

Nofield brought the chain blade down on its skull. It parried with its left hand. It should have barely slowed the descent of the blade. Instead a few strips of flesh went flying off as it deflected the blade. "Your Corpse God is not here," it said. "I am." Bayonets punctured its belly and left thigh. They broke off as forced itself forward and seized the commissar's wrists. "Shall I share pleasure or pain with you before you die?"

"Captain Steel!" came the shout from an operator wired into the ship's internal communication system. His jaw and ears had been replaced with interface units and a voxcaster. Cables connected him to the bank of machines he attended. "We have been boarded!"

"Where?!" Jengal Steel roared.

"Section nine, port docking corridors. Our boarding force has been destroyed."

"I had more than a hundred men there! How the hells- teleporter!" he snarled. "What hit us?"

"Reports indicate it was a squad of Space Marines!"

Jengal Steel's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets in panic. "Marines?! Get every man and every heavy weapon down there and kill them! Every available man! Now!"

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A score of pirates ran down the corridor, driven by fear. They wore makeshift armour and carried a multitude of different weapons. They had been told they had been boarded, but not by what. There captain had sent them to die and buy time for the rest of the defences to be set up, so that his crew would have a chance against the terrible Astartes he believed coming and to save his miserable life. They were tough, hard men, survivors all, steeped in bloodshed and violence. Their souls were stained by *****, thefts, murder, and countless cruelties great and small.

Jolan Gix felt them come, saw the glitter of their tainted souls through the warp as his armour's autosenses registered the stink of their bodies and the sound of their footfalls. Domina switched the clip of her bolt pistol, loading Metal Storm rounds to shred closely packed flesh in tight quarters.

A pipe was dripping overhead. A bead of water froze as it fell, shattering on the deck. Domina felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and a tingle pass through her fingers. Jolan Gix stepped ahead of her, heading towards the next corridor intersection.

His conversion field flashed as las beams and bullets struck him. The front ranks of the pirates had opened up and many of those killers possessed enviable reflexes. Several of them dived for the deck, getting out of the line of fire and opening fire lanes for their comrades behind them.

Jolan unleashed the power he had gathered. A wave of green fire rushed down the corridor. Flesh was blackened and bodies were lifted up and thrown backwards and against the walls, ceiling, and floor with enough force to break bones. The mass of burning, tumbling pirates were barely able to scream as their blood boiled, their flesh charred, and their organs ruptured. And then it was over. The bodies of burned pirates carpeted part of the hallway.

"They are organizing resistance," Domina said, crushing a ribcage under her boot.

"Yes," said Gix. "Their attention is focused on us, as I wished."

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The daemon holding Nofield spasmed and released her wrists as it released a high, keening screech as it tumbled back. "I will place fire worms in your living brain!" it cursed. Batista Vonnil struck it again with another lance of telepathic force.

Another daemon ripped claws through the armour of a servitor, tearing out synthetic guts and oil power cables. The servitor sagged as oil and slime coated the possessed warriors hand and sprayed over its body. Another servitor reached out and clenched the daemon's arm with bone crushing force. It withstood that. Then the servitor brought the chain blade that made up its other arm down. Strips of flesh and bone chips flew a mono edged adamantine blades ripped through even warp toughened flesh.

N'rake lashed out blindly, clipping the helmet of a stormtrooper who had moved up to assist Nofield. His hand tore through the trooper's visor, missing his eyes by centimeters. The stormtrooper didn't flinch, instead putting three bolts into the daemon's right shoulder, blasting the arm out of the socket in a spray of bloody mist.

The third daemon knocked N'rake out of the way and slashed open the stormtrooper's throat with a huge knife. Nofield swung her chainsword and disemboweled the possessee. She retreated as the daemon came at her and then tripped, getting tangled up in its own entrails.

Nofield fired her bolt pistol into its face. The first round destroyed its cheeks and jaw bones, splattering her in gore. The next blew open the front of its skull, the third destroyed what remained of its brain, and the fourth blew out the back of its skull.

Her troopers tossed choke and frag grenades into the midst of the charging pirates, but that wasn't going to stop them. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the remaining daemon get blasted in two by a krak grenade from a grenade launcher. A bolt from her pistol turned the inside of the closest pirate's chest to pulp. He fell, but they kept coming and then her world vanished into a haze of pain.

Batista's psychic blast knocked half the stormtroopers in hand to hand combat unconscious. The daemons and the pirates who were the target of the blast took it harder. Three died on the spot from bursting arteries and half dozen more fell twitching to the deck. The wounded daemon occupying the mangled body of N'rake stood still as a statue. Other pirates clutched their heads and groaned.

The stormtroopers didn't have to be told twice to take advantage of the situation. They cut loose with hellguns, flamers, and grenades launchers. Concussive blasts ruptured organs, shrapnel ripped open veins and arteries, fire burned skin and flesh, and hellbeams snuffed out lives. For a full thirty seconds there was intensive firing. Then there was silence.

The stormtroopers advanced with hot gun barrels to where their comrades lay. They double tapped pirates in the head and carried their comrades free. "She's alive," said the vox altered voice of Sergeant Kisbad. "Commissar, can you hear me?" He gave her a shake.

Shala's eyes fluttered open. "Waaa." She looked blankly, her eyes swimming and trying to focus. They she gazed into the sergeant's visor. "Report," she croaked.

"Enemy boarding party accounted for," said Kisbad.

"Good. Status of other boarders?"

"Dead commissar."

"Good. Vox the report to Sergeant D'eckor."

"Yes ma'am." He switched over to the vox channel as Nofield shakily got to her feat. Stormtroopers handed her her weapons. She checked them and reloaded as Kisbad made his report. "Ma'am."

"Yes?"

"Sergeant D'eckor is ceding command of the ship's defences to you."

"What in the name of the warp?"

"He says he's acting as per Inquisitor Gix's instructions."

"Very well. Get me a report of ship's status and enemy activity immediately."

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Gard Vikal looked up from the instrument panel. "I don't think this is what the inquisitor had in mind."

"That's true," said Hethor. "Your point?"

"That just perhaps we should obey the inquisitor's orders?"

"We are. I'm in charge. I see an opportunity and I'm taking it. Jolan left me in charge because he knows to let me make these kind of decisions. So warm up the teleporter. Me and the boys are going to do some damage."

"As you wish sergeant." The big veteran left the control room and joined his men in the teleporter room. One heavily reinforced squad of some of the toughest men the Imperial Guard produced, armed to the teeth and carrying more than their share of high explosives.

"Hurry up and zap us," Hethor growled over the vox. There was a flash and then sixteen men were hurled through the nightmare of the warp, encased in a protective bubble. Their journey lasted only a moment.

The Imperial soldiers materialized in a vast gallery. It was deserted, except for a few servitors servicing machinery. Huge elevators served to carry ammunition to the breaches of enormous guns on the upper levels. Stacks of shells were piled on the lower levels.

The gun crews had been stripped for boarding parties, damage control, and to stop Gix. "Demo, set up the meltas. Make sure to give us enough time. Lets end this thing winner and alive, eh?"

His soldiers laughed and went to work. Gix might be able to win through or not. If he did then everything was fine. If not, Hethor was going to take the opportunity to blow every gun deck, power line, and shield generator he could get to while the pirates were bleeding themselves white against Gix. If it came down to another ship duel, Hethor was sure as hell going to stack the odds now while he could do something about it.

Jolan raised the autogun to his shoulder and fired rapid single shots down the corridor. The pirate who had originally possessed the gun had owned a good weapon. The magazine held a twenty four ten millimeter bullets double stacked. The recoil suppressors were probably pretty good, but superfluous. Jolan's power armour gave him more than enough strength and mass to control the weapon's recoil.

Gix hit one pirate in the shoulder and drove several others back into cover. Jolan fired off the rest of the clip before reloading. "They're tenacious," Jolan said. "You would think after so many dead they would have lost some of their enthusiasm."

"They fear their lord," said Domina. "They tremble but still fight. If they fought for love of the Emperor, then we would be hard pressed. But we are the righteous," she intoned. "Cover me inquisitor," she said, hefting her captured flamer.

Jolan went back around the corner. He fired at the pirates where they huddled in cover in adjoining corridors. Laser and bullets whizzed back. The conversion field flashed blindingly bright as it absorbed hits. Lasers pitted his armour and bullets bounced off. The yawning maw of a melta gun was pointed at him.

The gunner screamed and dropped the weapon as fire consumed him and the pirate next to him. Slugs flattened themselves on Domina's armour as the Sister of Battle sent bursts of flames at the pirates. Jolan advanced with her, putting bullets into any pirate that moved. Hopefully, Danell was making good use of the distraction.

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The assassin checked his auspex, confirming the absent of nearby pirates, and slid ahead. Jolan and Domina had left a bloody trail through the ship, which served to clear his path. He walked around the pools of sticky blood and into the lift junction chamber. Here lifts went up into the command and communication towers of the ship.

They had been locked down and trapped, of course. Keys climbed the wall, placed a melta bomb, and retreated. He triggered the bomb. Ravening white hot heat ate a hole more than two meters wide in the lift shaft.

Keys waited a minute before advancing. The heat hit him like a hammer, even in his armoured suit. He gingerly avoided the still red hot edged and entered the shaft, the adhesive pads on his gloves and feet. There was some risk of being crushed by a moving lift, of course, but such an occurrence would only happen if the lifts started moving towards him and Danell was both clumsy and quite unlucky. Not a likely occurrence. Soon, this would be over.

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A chief ran past Gard, directing a handful of crewmen forward. He stopped for a moment. "We need you! Come on!"

Gard sputtered. "You can't be serious."

The chief gestured with the pump shotgun in his hands. "No armsmen to block this bunch. We need every hand to prevent from being overrun. Which means you."

Gard looked at the wiry man. "I suppose I can't man the teleporter if I'm being garroted by some microcephalic corsair." The scientist opened a case a retrieved a weapon that was unmistakably some kind of rifle, albeit one of xenos design. Instead of a barrel, a cluster of sinister looking rods protruded from the main body of the weapon.

The chief looked uneasily at the weapon. "Shall we proceed?" asked Gard.

Hellgun fire from the gallery peppered the corridor, blasting holes in two pirates and forcing the rest back. Hethor D'eckor looked up from his position hiding behind the breach of a colossal macro-cannon. "How much longer?!" he yelled.

"Minute, maybe two!" was the response of one of the demo troopers. Hethor's aggressive assault had taken them into a weapons bay containing four macro cannons. Unfortunately this time the pirates had managed to muster resistance that his troops couldn't simply cut through like red hot wires through soft cheese. Hethor fired a grenade into the corridor that the pirate reinforcements were attempting to emerge from. "Hurry the **** up," he yelled eloquently. "Everyone, teleport homers active! If those goat ******' sister rapers want this so badly, they can have it. All of it!"

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The roar of guns game from just ahead. Gard Vikal gripped his death arc tighter as he kept pace with the crewmen around him. He had been operating in the Imperium's occasionally violent underbelly long before he had met Jolan Gix and was no stranger to it, although he preferred to avoid it. Now it didn't look like he would have that option.

Four members of the Eternal Will's crew was blasting away with shotguns and autoguns, trying to hold the corridor junction ahead against an enemy that was filling the air with las fire. Gard knew intellectually that his mesh armour and light drinker fabrics provided him with quite good protection against such weapons, but that didn't alleviate his fear.

One of the defenders fell, struck several times by las fire, and then the other three were struck by a fusillade of scarlet las beams. Oh Emperor , Gard thought. He could here the sounds of men charging forward. The two groups almost collided at the intersection.

Gard had a brief moment with which to recognize the attackers as Cruz, a savage species that was scattered over a handful of worlds. They produced no technology of note but were well known as fierce raiders and mercenaries. The squat and powerful xenos were wearing heavy armour plate and carried a variety of vicious weapons.

Gard pulled the trigger on the Xenarch death arc and swept the emitter across the corridor. The invisible ionization beams blazed a track through the atmosphere that the massive charge stored in the weapons capacitors eagerly followed. The weapon emitted a brilliant blue-white beam that seared flesh and armour alike. Four Cruz were reduced to smoking corpses almost instantly. Unfortunately, that left nearly a dozen of them alive and Gard only a few meters from them holding a weapon which had just discharged its capacitors. The closest Cruz, ropes of saliva hanging off of its jaws, shot him twice with its las carbine and then smashed him in the chest with its mace.

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A shout from behind him and the crackle of las weapon fire alerted Captain Jengal Steel to the fact that something was very wrong on his bridge. The fearsome pirate swiveled his command throne around as several of his crew clawed for nearby weapons.

The attacker was a lone man who was firing a single pistol. He was inhumanely fast, trained and conditioned flesh augmented with combat drugs or the like. He was a black clad blur shrouded by the haze of a refractor field, almost impossible to target. The assassin fired twice blazing white beams burned down two more of Steel's crew.

Steel reached for his bolt pistol as he lunged out of the command throne. The assassin burned down another crewman and turned toward him. Steel's gun cleared the holster and he brought his arm up. The assassin was a spectacularly good shot, to score so many hits while moving, but Steel wore gilded carapace armour. A hit wouldn't put him down. The bolt pistol barked.

The shot went wide. The assassin pointed his gun, but nothing came out. The sound of minor impacts plinking off the top of his breastplate distracted Steel for a second and then there was a brief needle of pain in his throat and the world spun. The captain sank to his knees as the paralytic toxin from the needle went to work almost immediately.

Keys switched the combipistol back to hellgun mode to finish the rest of the bridge crew with the hellgun tube mounted above the needler barrel. A few of their shots even managed to hit him, but the refractor field took care of those. He shot the last two in the head and activated his com and teleport homer.

"This is Knife. Target is secured and neutralized. Proceeding to disengage grapple systems from master gunner's panel." He walked passed two servitors still going about their assigned duties to disengage the grapples. He flipped several switches with lit lights. "Grapples disengaged."

"The is Eternal Will ," came the reply. "Disengagement confirmed. Stand by."

"Inform the teleport room to prepare to retrieve personnel from the pirate vessel," Selanon Kay ordered.

"Yes captain," said a young officer. "Signaling teleporter room now." There was a long pause. "No answer sir."

Kay's head snapped around. "What?"

"No answer sir. Internal schematics do show fighting occurring nearby."

"Throne of Earth," Kay swore. "Get reinforcements there. Now."

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Gard Vikal struck the deck hard. The las blasts had been powerful enough to give him serious burns despite his mesh armour and the spiked mace had cracked ribs. His whole body was swimming with pain. Drug injectors kicked in, flooding his system with endorphins and adrenalin. Move or die! part of his brain shrieked at him.

He scrambled back, the next mace blow catching him on the meat of his left thigh. The mesh armour went rigid to absorb as much of the impact as possible, but it hurt. Emperor above, it hurt. His hand freed the pistol holstered about his waist.

Gard raised the sinister pistol and pulled the trigger. A stream of high velocity crystal splinters erupted from the gun. The first shots smacked into armour plate but the barrel rose. Several struck the Cruz in the thigh, boring through tough hide and bone as if wasn't there. The ammunition was impregnated with a powerful paralytic, but not one tailored to the Cruz's biology. It fell, not because the toxin was working, but because its left leg was a chewed up and bloody piece of meat.

The Cruz snarled and grabbed Gard's leg and bit. The xeno's fang were unable to penetrate the mesh armour, but the pressure was intolerable. Gard screamed and fired into its head. Splinters bounced off or lodged in the plates covering the alien's head, but one pierced its left eye and into its brain. The Cruz convulsed, shaking Gard, and let go as it spasmed.

The scientist scrambled back and raked fire across the legs of another Cruz, tearing up flesh and bone and sending the alien to the deck in a spray of blood. The crewmen were fighting a vicious, close quarters battle. Shotguns boomed at point blank range and las carbines sent lethal beams of light into all too frail human bodies. War blades pierced flesh and maces cracked bone. The humans fell back as the Cruz's ferocity and heavy armour allowed them to push forward through the hellish melee. Blood covered the deck and the wounded and the dying lay groaning upon it.

Gard scrambled back on his hands as the Cruz came forward. A stream of bullets and las beams flashed over his head, tearing up the closest Cruz's armour and then punching several bullets into the alien's torso. Blood jetted out and the Cruz fell. The other Cruz opened up with their carbines and Gard rolled and wrapped himself in his las resistant coat. The snarl of high powered las weapons filled the air and so did Cruz screams.

Gard looked up to see black armoured troopers blasting the rear of the remainder of the Cruz war pack at point blank range. Blazing hellguns beams sliced through armour and exploded flesh as the stormtroopers slaughtered the survivors. The boom of a bolter signified the death of the last one.

Mikal Camron walked towards him, a smoking bolter held in one hand as the stormtroopers put double taps into the skulls of the downed Cruz. The young lieutenant extended his hand. Gard took it and the Imperial officer pulled the scientist to his feet. "You alright?" Camron asked.

"No," said Gard wincing. "I'll live."

"Good. You're needed in the teleporter chamber. Leave playing hero to the professionals."

"Gladly."

Explosions ripped across the starboard side of the Iron Claw as Hethor's explosives set off a chain reaction among the capacitors and shells feeding the guns on her flanks. Blast doors slammed down, preventing the ship's air from escaping to the void. The Eternal Will , the connecting grapples severed by Keys's actions in the command deck, fired maneuvering thrusters and drifted away.

The Inquisition starship had retrieved her crew. The ship's machine spirit powered the guns in obedience to her captain's commands. The Iron Claw's gun crews had been pulled from their stations to assist in damage control or fight in the boarding actions. The survivors of those brutal actions would need time to reach their stations and make their weapons operational, even if their had been a captain to order it.

Void shields sprung up around the Eternal Wil l at full power. "Inquisitor," signaled Selanon Kay, "we have cleared the pirate ship. Void shields operational, weapons are powered."

Jolan Gix stepped out of the teleportation chamber. His armour was scarred and pitted, but unbreached. "Captain, target the vessel's plasma reactor."

"Inquisitor," said Kay, "Plasma reactors will survive a breach, but they explode if they suffer catastrophic decontainment."

"Exactly," said Jolan Gix. "As valuable a prize at is it is, it is of more use to the Imperium destroyed without a trace that captured intact."

"As you wish Inquisitor." Kay turned off the vox link. "Helm, get us another five thousand kilometers away from that beast and then lock on to engineering with all weapons that can be brought to bear. Master Gunner, charge all batteries to maximum power."

His crew chorused obedience and maneuvering thrusters fired again. The ship's machine spirit had no trouble calculating the necessary fire control solutions. The massive dorsal fusion batteries and the starboard las cannons swiveled into position and locked in as their power systems rose to maximum charge.

The range ticked away as the enemy ship fell away. "In position," said the Master Gunner.

"Fire." Ravening beams of energy lashed out and tore through the Iron Claw's hull, Keys having deactivated the void shields during his stint on the bridge. Steel and ceramite were instantly blasted into gas and a fraction of a second latter a new star erupted in the Iron Claw's guts. The blue-white explosion swelled and devoured the ship in an expanding plasma shockwave that tore through space. Lightning played over the Eternal Will's void shields as the blast passed over her.

Jolan Gix strode onto the bridge. The inquisitor had shed the bulky power armour and wore a loose white shirt over dark pants. A laspistol was holstered on his belt and the conversion field generator hung as a pectoral plate inside his shirt. "Status?" he asked.

"Ship destroyed inquisitor."

"Good. The ship is to proceed stealthed to a safe spot to reenter the Immaterium. Avoid contact and identification at all costs."

"Sir?" said Kay. "Have our plans changed?"

"Yes," said Gix. "And captain, you are hereby ordered to use all means, including the silencing of loyal Imperial subjects through death, to avoid this ship being positively identified."

"Understood inquisitor. Our destination?"

"CMX-997."

"A barren system?"

"Almost barren," said Jolan Gix with a smile. He turned and walked from the bridge as Selanon Kay began to issue orders. Keys was waiting for him.

"The prisoner is secure inquisitor. Gard verified him to be in good health before retiring."

Jolan nodded and headed down the corridors of the ship. Kill teams of stormtroopers were running patrols with auspexes, hunting for any pirate survivors who may have crawled into hiding. On many vessels such a strategy could be successful. Not on the Eternal Will . Jolan reached a thick blast door that sealed off the corridor. His codes opened it and they stepped inside.

A line of featureless rooms lined the corridor. Here was where Jolan's secret work was done, where the breaking of truly valuable prisoners and the practice of warpcraft and occult technosorcery was perfected. Jolan stopped in front of door and entered a code.

The mighty form of Jengal Steel was inside. A baroque frame of cold chromed steel and polished brass held his body helpless while monitors recorded his vital functions. Armatures holding needles, probes, and various terrible instruments of Jolan's office were folded against the frame. Tubes of useful chemicals were connected by tubes to the armature and its needles. A holographic display stripped Jengal Steel naked in a far more profound way than nudity.

"Captain," said Jolan Gix, one eye flickering to note the display revealing heightened anxiety levels. "We have much to discuss."

Selanon Kay entered the conference room. Jolan Gix was there along with the senior members of his retinue. Hethor was looking like he wanted to take a nap and Domina had her eyes closed in prayer. Keys was as immobile as a statue and the Guard officer and the commissar were clearly nervous. Gard Vikal was reading a pad. "We have entered the Immaterium and are on course Inquisitor."

"Please have seat captain. We have important matters to discuss."

Kay nodded and sat stiffly in an unoccupied chair as far away from Gix as possible. He was pretty sure this "conference" would consist of orders coming from the inquisitor and "yes sir" coming from everyone else.

"The situation is worse than I thought," said Jolan. "The Rising Phoenix has been able to access some of the most heavily secured files, hunt down and ambush inquisitors, plant false communications, and arrange ambushes in deep space. The resources and information at the disposal of the Illuminated Masters is, quite frankly, terrifying.

"My usual procedures are unlikely to succeed. In fact, no Inquisitional investigation of the Rising Phoenix has done more than scratch the surface in the last two hundred years that we have known of its existence. Therefore, I have decided that extraordinary measures need to be taken. The first is to fake all of our deaths."

"That's why you ordered the destruction of the pirate vessel instead of taking it as a prize," said Kay.

"Yes," said Jolan. "As far as anyone is concerned a battle of some kind occurred, but either we were destroyed in it or lost in the warp."

"That won't be convincing," said Keys. "They will keep looking."

"I know," said Jolan. "That's why we won't resurface."

"Special Condition," said Hethor. "I take it we'll be under a long time?"

"Yes," said Jolan. "And the Inquisition will believe us dead as well."

"I take it CMX-997 is in some way related to this venture?" asked Kay.

"Correct. There is a stealthed satellite in system which acts as message drop for . . . . certain associates of mine. They'll take the necessary actions and keep them secret."

"What's our role boss?" said Hethor.

"Danell, Camron, and Gard will be coming with me. The rest of you will be meeting up with Melina and assisting her."

"Boss," said Hethor, "I should go with you in-"

"No," said Jolan firmly. "Our enemy is far too familiar with your appearance. They will expect you to be near me."

"Boss, they know what you look like and they will be looking for you."

"Gard will be attending to that detail," said Jolan.

"Lord," said Domina speaking for the first time, "I should remain with you."

"No," said Jolan. "Absolutely not."

"Lord, how can I convey the messages of Nathan to you? My duty demands-"

"You duty demands that you follow my orders," said Jolan with iron in his voice. "Means of communication will be established. Any of Nathan's messages can be conveyed but I cannot bring you into the places I must go."

"Where is that inquisitor?" Mikal asked.

"Into the darkness," said Jolan Gix. "Deep into the darkness."

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Five weeks latter the free trader Via Astria appeared in the Vola system, in the Teraborn subsector, nine thousand light years from where the Eternal Will had disappeared. Thousands of ships visited the world every year, carrying goods from every corner of the Imperium to the wealthy world and carrying the products of her factories and the warrior sons and daughters of Vola to wherever they were needed.

A shuttle dropped from the Via Astria towards Helopolis, one of Vola's many starports. The shuttle descended to the sprawling city of shining steel and glass towers. The spaceport was a vast expanse of reinforced rockcrete, steel, and armourplast ill that was as much monument as institution of commerce.

Customs officers waited as the shuttle connected to a boarding passage. A dark skinned man wearing flowing silks of cobalt and ebony stepped out to meet them with a sheaf of papers. Mechodendrites replaced the man's hair and photoblock lenses with holo displays covered his eyes. "I am medicae Carl Shraef. These papers are for the transfer of my patient and my equipment."

The senior custom officer, a blond man wearing the navy blue uniform and scarlett shoulder boards of Vola Customs looked over the documentation. "This appears to be in order," he said. "We will need to perform an inspection."

"Of course," said Shraef. "I should warn you that my patient has severe burns and at the moment is completely dependent upon life support machines."

"Lead the way," said the senior agent. The doctor lead them into the shuttle towards its cargo hold.

"This has been converted into a recovery chamber," said Shraef. Vats and a variety of arcane machines lined the room, some of them connected to the bed being watched by two robed and masked attendants. "This is as close as I can permit you without gowns and masks. The patient is very vulnerable to infection."

"This is good enough," said the senior agent. "Purpose of your journey to Helopolis?"

"To arrange for further care for my patient and allow him to convalesce properly afterwards."

"He must have money."

"His family is not without resources."

"Ahh. Well, everything appears in order. Carry on."

"Thank you," said Gard Vikal.

Gard carefully reached down and removed the life support mask from Jolan Gix's face. The inquisitor's eyes fluttered open. "We are safe inquisitor. A suitable space and equipment have been procured. Not a single element is connectible to who you really are."

"Good," croaked Jolan as he sat up on the bed. Cosmetic burn scars covered his face. Gard handed him a water bottle and Jolan greedily sucked in fluid through the straw. Gard had secured a vast room, now lined with vats and technoarcane medical equipment. "When will you be ready for surgery?"

"You won't be for another forty eight hours, as a precaution. The last of the drugs have to be flushed from your system."

"Understood," said the inquisitor. "Where are Camron and Keys?"

"In an adjacent room. Waiting and standing guard."

"Good. Bring them in."

"Of course," Gard touched his vox and a moment latter a door opened. Jolan's retainers entered the room. The stopped at the foot of the bed.

Jolan didn't bother with a preamble. "We'll be going under deep cover," Jolan said. "For that, we all need new faces and I need full body work since I will be who they are looking for."

"That's why Heth is staying behind," said Mikal Camron. "Too big, been with you too long, and too recognizable."

"Yes," said Jolan. "I also need him for something else. They're going to help Melina to continue to build a clandestine network so when we find our target we will have something to hit it with."

"We will be doing infiltration work?" ask Danell.

"Yes."

"Emperor have mercy," said Camron. "You want us to pose as heretics."

"It won't work," said Keys. "There is no way that a-" then he stopped.

"Correct," said Jolan.

"What?" asked Camron.

"See if he figures it out himself," said Gix. "We'll be going to dark places for a long time. You left behind all items that could possibly identify you or link you back to the Inquisition?"

"Yes," said Keys. "I supervised. We're clean."

"Good," said Jolan. "If you could leave me with the good doctor now?" His retainers bowed slightly and departed. "Well doctor, lets get started with the planning phase of the operation."

"As you wish inquisitor." He pointed at one of the vats. "In there new skin and hair follicles are growing. After the surgical peel I'll put your own tissues in storage with a stasis field. Bone and tissue growth stimulators will slightly increase your height and weight and the ceramite struts I will add will increase your bulk further. The eyes are of a compatible tissue type. When we are done, you will look nothing like who you really are." Gard triggered a holo display and the finished results rotated slowly in front of Jolan.

"Good," said Gix. "Good."

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The Gamesman looked up from one of his data panels as the Psy King entered his lair. Four guards in gilded ceramite plate stood by the door, with chain glaives in their hands, ready to kill at his command. "So my son," said the Gamesman, "you have returned to me."

The Psy King bowed. "I am yours to command."

"Indeed," said the Gamesman as he touched a control on the transparent crystalline board, sending events into motion in the machine mind that ran that particular game. "And how goes our campaign against Jolan Gix?"

"His ship has gone missing," said the Psy King. "There is evidence of a space battle occurring at about the right time and place. He may be dead."

"So you think your assassination plan succeeded?" said the Gamesman mildly.

"Master-"

"Be very careful how you respond," said the Gamesman.

"I'm not sure," said the Psy King. How had he known?

"It was foolish of you to try and kill Gix when I had plans for him," said the Gamesman. "Another inquisitor would have been useful. Very useful. And now if he's dead, we've lost him.

"But if he isn't dead, then he is falling even deeper into the darkness. But you will have revealed too much about how far our grasp reaches. So there remains the question of your punishment." The Psy King was silent.

"I have a job for you. If you succeed, I will be very pleased. That is the easy part. Surviving it is another matter entirely."

"Listen up," said Hethor D'eckor as he addressed what remained of Jolan's retinue. They were gathered in one of the conference rooms about the Eternal Will . Hethor was standing behind the empty chair at head of the table. "The boss hasn't forgotten us," he continued. "He's given us the easy job while he walks into hell."

All their attention was focused on him now. Good. "He's going to dig them out. He won't have weapons or backup or anything from the Inquisition, he'll be under too deep. We have to provide him with that. Melina is going to have to turn Gix's hidden assets into a secret empire and we have to train and equip that army. When the word comes we have to be all mighty hammer of the Emperor and be ready to stage a dozen campaigns at once. And we will have to do all of this from the shadows."

"And my role in this?" asked Selanon Kay. "I am contracted to fly the inquisitor's ship, not waste years of my life doing . . . whatever."

"You will be a free trader and shipmaster," said Hethor. "Melina will provide backing."

"This was not my agreement with Gix," glowered Kay.

"What is your agreement with the Emperor?" growled Hethor. "How will you account for your life when you stand before the Throne. Will you tell him you walked away from a chance to destroy an enemy that threatens sectors and the Inquisition itself? Or will you tell him you were afraid?"

"Call me a coward again," said Kay, his eyes glittering. One of his hands was on the table's edge, near his pistol. The other could rip off his bandanna and unleash the lethal power of his warp eye. "Stand on the deck of a ship I have sheparded through battle and call me a coward."

"Talk is just talk," Hethor said. "Actions matter. You in?" He wouldn't leave the room alive if he wasn't.

"Yes," said Kay. "I'm in."

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The flash dealer whimpered in the iron hard grip of Danell Keys. The assassin could twist and break bone, rupture organs, or cripple nerve clusters. He chose to hold. "Please," whined the dealer. "I-"

"Listen little man," said Keys's companion. They were in meat locker just off from the long cutting lines of the slaughter factory. Terex's World was classified as civilized in Imperial almanacs, but it was mostly an agricultural concern. In a dozen huge slaughter houses the livestock of the world were continuously killed, cut, and stripped. Men were involved every part of the process from the loading bays, to the conveyors, the packaging, the cutters, and the killing floor. The operation slowed only for routine maintenance and cleaning, one line going still in rotation while the others hacked away.

Men worked long, hard shifts here, but a little flash or lightning could make things go faster. They could also keep you alert when you were tired and that could keep you out of the cutting blades or the rendering vats, but it made you sloppier too. More than a few men supplied their fellow workers as a second job.

"No one is going to get through my friend at the door and no one is going to hear or care. I don't care whether you live or die. Do you believe me?"

The dealer stared at the ice eyed blond. He was about average height and carried a lot of muscle. His face was craggy and his eyes were merciless. Like everyone else, he was wearing a splattered worker's coverall. He didn't even need to carry an illicit weapon in this place. There were no shortages of blades and killing tools in a slaughter factory. "Y-yes," said the dealer, who wasn't a small man himself.

"Good," said the blond. "I don't want you or your business. I want your supplier."

"He won't talk to you," said the dealer. "You aren't known."

"That's my problem, isn't it?" said the blond. "Name and location?"

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To move secretly from world to world in the Imperium is not an art, it is a craft. Between them Danell Keys and Gard Vikal had considerable expertise in this craft and Gard had a whole array of contacts and long history of practical experience. Booking passage for their cover identities had been easy, although mostly because they had yet to do anything to cause them to be hunted by the Imperium.

There had been a delay, of course. One does not book secret passage overnight, but they had used that time. Jolan needed time to recover from the surgery and Gard had to arrange for the safe and secret storage of Jolan's stasis preserved tissues. Keys had glided through the Helopolis underworld, acquiring weapons and gear to replace some of what they had left behind on the Eternal Will .

Eventually they had found passage on a fat and slow bulk cargo and passenger ship Lady Joy . It had meandered through the warp lanes carrying the Throne agents in almost bare cabins as the Lady Joy was no luxury liner. It had sufficed.

Now they prowled the shanty towns that had accrue around the slaughter factories. Originally they had been prefab shacks and hastily constructed houses, but over the years decay had outpaced renovations. The streets were unpaved, there was filth and garbage everywhere, and vermin, both human and animal, were everywhere.

A rectangular house was in better shape than most and lacked the ever present garbage. A huge man with dark brown skin stood guard by the door. His face was marked with hashmark scars and he wore a long leather coat with revealing bulges underneath. Jolan stopped about three meters from the guard, his retainers hanging back. "I'm here to see the Vice."

"Why should the Vice see you?" the guard replied.

"It's worth a lot of money."

"You have any references?"

The blond crossed the distance between them almost instantly, a thin bladed knife in his hand. He slammed the guard against the wall and pressed the point to his throat. "I'm an off worlder who isn't interested in getting the run around. Care to confirm that?"

"Easy blade. Easy."

"Camron," said the blond. The Guard lieutenant had a large bore slug thrower drawn and the guard covered. Keys stepped into the house. There was the sound of several meaty smacks and then a voice rang out.

"Clear," said Keys. They entered and stepped over the body of another guard, Camron still covering the other guard.

A man sat at a table, sipping from a large mug. The wore a multicoloured shirt of checks of alternating colours. His head was shaved bald. "Get it done," he said.

"I'm not here to hurt you," said the blond. "I'm here for business."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"I'm off world and I'm not interested in ******* around."

"Who are you?"

"You can call me Sevren Dask," said Jolan Gix. "I'm either going to make you very rich or very dead."

This is very awesome. I hope that we'll see new chapters!

Thank you very much for the reading!

I hope to see more soon!

I'll reread it all since then, because it has been a long time!