The chamber was silent but for the hum of ancient machinery and the faint scrape of servos adjusting the Cryptek's stance. Orykhal stood motionless atop his polished dais. His metallic form gleamed faintly in the cold green glow of stasis-lit monoliths that framed his command chamber. Streams of cascading glyphs illuminated the air around him, feeding him every detail of the recent skirmish.

  The primitive settlement known as Dusthaven still stood. Its power grid had been crippled as planned, plunging the town into chaos and leaving its inhabitants scrambling in darkness. Several humans had perished, their soft forms no match for the mechanical precision of his scarabs and flayed ones. But that was where the progress ended.

  It was not enough.

  Orykhal's talons flexed at his sides, the faint grinding sound of metal on metal the only outward sign of his bemusement. "Suboptimal, if intriguing results." His voice reverberated through the chamber, metallic and emotionless, the echoes filling the void like the chime of a distant bell.

  The loss of fifty scarabs, while irksome, was inconsequential. They were drones, replaceable with a flick of thought and time. And the loss of the flayed ones was, if anything, a boon to the Necron race as a whole.

  What was not replaceable, however, was his certainty. And that certainty had been shaken by a single figure.

  The Cryptek's optic sensors narrowed, focusing on the hololith hovering before him. From the fractured memory cores of his destroyed units, he replayed the assault on the reactor's control chamber. There, amidst the chaos and radiation, the image was clear: a lone human clad in battered pale blue armor, moving with a precision and lethality that belied his species' usual frailty.

  The recording stuttered as it displayed the human's desperate stand. Six flayed ones converged on the human, their bladed fingers slicing through the air. Yet the human fought with savage determination. He ducked, sidestepped, and countered, each motion deliberate. A cybernetic arm, shimmering faintly with flickers of blue-white electrostatic energy, drove a fist clean through the chest of one flayed one, before pivoting to drive his elbow into another, smashing it into the wall with bone-shattering force. The fight was raw, close, and vicious, and by the time it ended, all six flayed ones lay in sparking ruin, their limbs twitching lifelessly on the reactor floor.

  "Interesting," Orykhal murmured, his voice a low metallic rasp.

  The data flickered again, shifting to show faint traces of the human's systems. The scarabs had tried to probe his tech, but their intrusion had been met with powerful barriers—defensive code, elegant and alien, patterns Orykhal had never seen before. These defenses were not the crude, clunky work of the Adeptus Mechanicus. No, this was something far stronger, far more efficient.

  The Cryptek's gaze lingered on the image of the human, collapsed and unconscious, bloodied and battered yet somehow alive. His systems had been failing, and his flesh should have succumbed to the searing radiation, yet the blue-white energy of his implants still flickered faintly, stubbornly pushing back against death.

  "Resilient." Orykhal said to the silent chamber, his tone one of quiet contemplation. "But not enough."

  The display shifted, showing another angle of the battle. The scarab swarm had successfully severed the settlement's power grid, throwing the humans into disarray, but their defense had held firm where it mattered. Dusthaven remained intact, and this one figure had been pivotal to that outcome.

  Orykhal turned his attention to the streams of data cascading across the hololith. "Preserve everything we have on this anomaly," he commanded, his voice echoing through the chamber. "Every fragment. Analyze it."

  Straightening, his towering frame casting long shadows across the chamber, he continued. "This anomaly is valuable. A fresh dataset for the first time in ages."

  He turned away, ascending the dais that overlooked his chamber. Behind him, the hololith replayed the fragments of the failed assault, the image of Koron's bloodied body frozen in the faint green light. Yet even as Orykhal began to shift his focus to plans of the next assault, a sharp alert pulsed through his neural lattice.

  A glyph pulsed red, interrupting his thoughts. Orykhal froze, his optics flaring brightly as he accessed the information directly. The chamber was utterly silent as the data streamed into his mind.

  Six Imperial vessels arriving in orbit. Astartes, Salamanders.

  The faintest trace of excitement entered Orykhal's voice as he spoke. "Astartes. A welcome addition of combat data."

  The hololith flickered, shifting to display the arrival of the six ships in orbit. Their green-and-black hulls bore the unmistakable sigils of the Salamanders Chapter, fire-breathing dragons etched into their plating like a challenge hurled across the stars. Orykhal stared, his mind working with cold precision.

  "Perhaps…" he mused softly. "Yes. Extrapolate out scenarios of the settlement gaining Astartes aid. Project results of the anomaly interacting with current Astartes armaments. Update as projections complete."

  Orykhal turned to the hololith, the faint green glow casting his skeletal visage in stark relief. His voice dropped to a cold whisper as the results began to come in. "Excellent. Data results are worth exploring. Direct communications, refine troop movements. Bring the anomalies settlement to the human's attention."

  -

  Elissa sat in silence, staring at the seven white sheets stretched across the morgue. Beneath them, the bodies rested—mercifully hidden from view. Some irrational part of her mind urged her to pull back the fabric, to see their faces one last time. To remember them, to honor them.

  But another part, selfish and raw, whispered louder: Don't. She didn't need their faces etched into her nightmares. Not when the weight of this war already threatened to crush her. Not when the only relief was knowing neither of her daughters lay beneath those covers.

  She stayed frozen, her breath shallow, her fists clenched tightly in her lap.

  A heavy, armored hand clasped her shoulder. Warm through the ceramite, steadying. Doc knelt beside her, the polished silver of her armor a sharp contrast to the stark whiteness of the sheets. "It's not your fault," she said, her voice low but firm, as if daring Elissa to argue.

  "I know. Up here," Elissa murmured, tapping her temple lightly with trembling fingers. Her voice cracked as she added, "But I—"

  "No." Doc's grip tightened, an unyielding anchor against the storm of guilt. "Don't even think it. Don't let that thought take root." Her eyes burned with conviction. "This wasn't you. You didn't do this. Those Emperor damned xenos did. They took them. Not. You."

  Elissa's breath hitched. She tried to speak, to force a denial past the lump in her throat, but the words refused to come. Instead, she nodded faintly, her gaze lowering to her lap. Doc stayed by her side, silent now, her presence the only reassurance she could offer.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, Elissa knew the guilt wouldn't vanish, not entirely. The faces she'd refused to look at would still haunt her. But for this moment, Doc's words cut through the noise.

  Taking a steadying breath, Elissa grabbed Docs hand, giving it a squeeze. "Thanks Doc. I should-I should go, lots of stuff to get done." She stood, Doc following a moment after as they left the morgue, and the dead within, to their rest.

  Once outside, Elissa tilted her head back, rubbing her cheeks with trembling fingers as she let out a long, steadying breath. "Okay," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "What's our status?"

  Doc stood beside her, her silver hair catching the faint glow of the emergency lights. The streaks of grime on her pale skin made her look as weary as Elissa felt. "Not great," Doc admitted, voice grim. "Power's still down, but the backup generator and batteries are holding, for now. We've got the hospital, command, spotlights, charging ports, and the water system running, but that's it. Everyone else is making do with firepits and lanterns."

  "And the wounded?" Elissa asked, her voice quieter, almost hesitant.

  "A dozen or so, nothing life-threatening." Doc hesitated, her gaze shifting to the corner of the hospital where a privacy sheet swayed faintly, as if disturbed by an unseen hand. "Except Koron."

  Elissa followed Doc's gaze, her full lips pressing into a thin, bloodless line. "What's his condition?"

  Before Doc could answer, their vox pinged softly, and Sasha's honeyed voice came over the channel, warm and laced with the faint twang of a drawl. "He's holdin' on, sugar, by the skin of his teeth. Radiation levels have dropped to where they're no longer downright fatal, and his systems are workin' overtime to patch him up. But that man's gonna need at least three days of good rest before he's anywhere near his best self again."

  Elissa frowned, her hand dropping to her hip as she tilted her head slightly. "Hold on a second. That… accent—where did that come from? You didn't sound like this before."

  Sasha's laugh came soft and smooth, a musical tone that carried through the static. "Oh, darlin', this is my normal voice. I usually talk this way—it's how I like to be. But when things get all hectic, like with Koron, I drop it for clarity and speed. Ain't no time for charm when a life's on the line."

  Doc raised an eyebrow, her fingers tightening on her bolter. "So, what, the charm's back on now that he's stable?"

  "More or less," Sasha replied, her tone bright but unbothered. "I figure y'all deserve to meet the real me now that we're not racin' the clock. 'Sides, this is just how I like to talk—makes me more personable. And who doesn't need a bit of that in times like these?"

  Elissa's brow furrowed for a moment before she shook her head, brushing past it. "Fine. Let's focus on the situation at hand."

  Doc's grip didn't loosen as she gave Elissa a wary glance, but she kept quiet. Elissa's shoulders remained tense as she turned toward the door, glancing back toward the privacy sheet one last time.

  "So," she asked, her tone sharper now as she spoke into her vox-bead, "what can you do for us?"

  The vox crackled softly as Sasha answered, her voice picking up a lilting confidence like a hostess welcoming someone to a grand ball. "Well, I may not be much in a firefight, but I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. First off, I've got Koron's drones at my disposal. They're not built for tusslin', but they're mighty fine when it comes to sneakin' around and gettin' the lay of the land. I can send 'em out to scout the Necrons and give y'all early warnings about what's comin' your way."

  Elissa paused at the door, raising an eyebrow. "That's something, at least. And?"

  "I can lend a hand with repairs and fortifyin' your defenses," Sasha continued, her tone warm and practical, like a neighbor offering to patch a leaky roof. "The drones can seal up holes in your walls, shore up weak spots, and even whip up a few surprises if you've got the right materials lyin' around. Nothing fancy, but every little bit helps, don't it? Right now, they're patchin' up the hole in the reactor, so at least it'll quit spewin' rads all over the place."

  Doc scoffed lightly, crossing her arms. "Not exactly groundbreaking. What about firepower?"

  "Now, sugar," Sasha said with a gentle laugh, "I'm not about to go fibbin' to you. Combat ain't their forte. But I can help you make the most of what you've got. The Necrons may be nasty, but they're not invincible. I can analyze their movements, find their weak spots, and give you strategies to hit 'em where it hurts. Y'all might be runnin' on fumes, but I'll help you stretch every drop."

  Elissa leaned against the doorframe, rubbing at her temples. "All of this sounds great in theory, but we don't have the resources for a drawn-out fight."

  "I know, darlin'. That's why I'm here—to lighten your load, not add to it. Let me handle the drones and keep an eye on the battlefield. I'll make sure y'all have the intel you need to stay one step ahead. You focus on your people, and together we'll keep Dusthaven standin'."

  For a moment, silence filled the air, broken only by the faint hum of the emergency lights. Finally, Elissa sighed and nodded. "Alright. Let's see what you've got."

  Doc gave a sharp, skeptical glance at Elissa before rising to her feet, bolter slung over her shoulder. "I'm keepin' my eye on you, Sasha. Don't make me regret it."

  Sasha's response was smooth, with a touch of playful warmth. "You won't, sugar. Now, let's get to work."

  -

  The dim light of the command room flickered faintly as Elissa leaned over the weathered map of Dusthaven spread across the central table. A steaming cup of tea sat untouched beside her, her eyes focused but heavy with exhaustion. Two days. Two days without an attack, without the Necron presence even scraping at the outskirts. She should have felt relieved.

  Should have.

  The vox pinged, Sasha's smooth drawl cutting through the still air. "Elissa, darlin', you got a minute? We need to talk."

  Elissa frowned, straightening up. "What's going on, Sasha?"

  "Well," Sasha began, her voice warm but laced with concern, "I've been keepin' an eye on those metal-headed varmints. Somethin' about their movements just don't sit right with me."

  Elissa crossed her arms, the faint crease in her brow deepening. "Movements? You mean the fact that there haven't been any? Not that I'm complaining, but…"

  "Oh, I reckon it's a bit more complicated than that," Sasha said, a soft hum in her voice like she was piecing her thoughts together. "They ain't just quiet, sugar. They're… avoidin' us."

  Elissa blinked. "Avoiding? What do you mean?"

  "Exactly what I said. They're movin', alright. But every pattern, every approach they've taken in the last two days has deliberately avoided Dusthaven. It's as plain as day once you look at it. You could draw a circle around this town on the map, and they'd be dancin' right along the edge, never settin' foot inside."

  That twisted something deep in Elissa's gut. "Why? Why would they avoid us? From what I've seen they don't hesitate, they don't retreat. They just… march. Kill."

  "Exactly, darlin'. And that's why it's downright peculiar. This ain't normal behavior for them. It's too obvious, too deliberate." Sasha's voice carried an undertone of unease. "I don't know why they're doin' it, but any fool with half a brain could see this shift in their pattern. And if it's obvious to us…"

  Elissa's eyes narrowed. "It's a message," she muttered.

  "Or a trap," Sasha countered gently, her voice soft. "Could be both. Could be neither. Whatever it is, sugar, it's unnatural, and that makes it dangerous. Mark my words, this quiet ain't somethin' we should be sittin' easy with."

  "Agreed." Elissa leaned back in her chair; the flickering overhead light casting shadows that made the room feel even smaller than it was. She folded her arms, gaze distant. "What's our status anyway?"

  Sasha's voice filled the air, calm but purposeful, as though the words were coming from somewhere just beyond Elissa's line of sight. "Backup gens are down to two days of operation. We could stretch it to a week if we only use them for the absolute necessities. Batteries will fail the day after that. Reactor core's sealed tight, but we're stuck 'til we figure out how to deal with the rads. Ain't even safe to get near it right now, let alone make repairs."

  A small pause, the subtle hum of electronics in the background as Sasha continued. "Weapons and ammo? We're good. Plenty of both. Food, we're set for a month and water is just gonna need people to ferry it once the powers out. But perishables are gonna spoil soon without power, so if you've got meat you're looking to keep, I'd suggest salting it or using it soon. You've got maybe a couple days."

  Elissa nodded absently, already processing the information. "Medical supplies?"

  Sasha's voice lowered, a touch more measured. "Stretched thin. But we've been lucky, for now. Most injuries have been either minor, or... well, fatal. Koron's the big concern, as you know."

  Her thoughts briefly shifted to the memory of the man lying behind the cloth screen. "And how's he doing?"

  "Better," Sasha responded smoothly. "System repairs are going well. His bio-signs are improving. He'll be up and about in a day or two, assuming no setbacks."

  Elissa let out a slow breath, relaxing just a little. "And my girls?"

  "Oh, those two?" Sasha's tone softened with an almost maternal note. "They've been on rotating shifts to keep him company. Think it's good for 'em—he's a good friend, and both of 'em need the connection. But if you need 'em for anything, just say the word, sugar. I can direct them elsewhere if that's what you prefer."

  Elissa hesitated for a moment before shaking her head, her crimson braid swaying. "No, let them be. They're keeping their duties in order. We've got enough work to go around right now. No need to pull them off in their free time."

  "Sure thing, darlin'." Sasha's voice carried a warmth that seemed to wrap around Elissa. It was strange—comforting, almost as if Sasha were sitting right there beside her, offering reassurance. "Be sure to get some rest tonight, alright? You've been burning the candle at both ends, and the people need their leader healthy. I'll keep an eye on things."

  Rubbing her eyes, Elissa let out a tired sigh. "Yeah, alright. I'm gonna grab a bite and hit the hay. Let me know if anything comes up."

  "Of course, sugar. I'll have Yannek fix up your usual. You're headed his way, right?"

  Elissa blinked, pausing mid-step. "…You know, it's kinda creepy how fast you've picked up little things like that."

  Sasha let out a soft laugh, light and easy. "Apologies, darlin'. Old habit of mine—paying attention to details, you know? I'll dial it back a notch or two, promise."

  Shaking her head, Elissa allowed herself a small smirk as she headed for the mess hall. "You do that."

  "Sleep well, sugar," Sasha murmured, her voice as soft as a lullaby. "I'll keep the town safe for you."

  Elissa had barely taken four steps outside when Sasha's voice crackled over the vox, sharper now. "Elissa, we have an incoming transmission on an open frequency."

  Tapping her vox, Elissa adjusted the signal, and a deep, gravelly voice filled her ears, laced with authority.

  "Hailing the settlement of Dusthaven, this is Sergeant Vulkanis Kade of the Salamanders, requesting permission to land. How copy?"

  Elissa froze mid-step, the color draining from her face as the words sank in. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. "By the Emperor," she whispered, her heart pounding. "His Angels… here?"

  Before she could fully process the enormity of the moment, Sasha's voice cut back in, low but edged with urgency. "Elissa, listen to me carefully. You cannot tell them about Koron. Or me."

  Her brow furrowed as she slowed to a halt. "Sasha, what are you talki—"

  "Elissa, please!" Sasha's tone cracked, desperation threading through her usually steady, honeyed voice. "If they find out about Koron, they'll either kill him outright or drag him away—to imprison him, to dissect him. You don't understand what's at stake. I'm begging you—keep him secret. Just until he can speak for himself. Just until he can decide his own fate."

  The weight of Sasha's plea hung heavy in the air, and Elissa felt the knot of uncertainty tighten in her chest. Her fingers hovered near her vox as her mind raced. This was no small ask—hiding something from the Emperor's Angels was heresy by any measure. But the sheer fear in Sasha's voice made her pause.

  For now, she simply said, "Alright," her voice quiet but firm, though her thoughts churned with questions she wasn't sure she wanted answers to.

  -

  The Thunderhawk's engines thrummed with latent power, their deep hum resonating through the air as they began to wind down. A dozen guardsmen, their postures stiff with unease, stood rigidly in place, their eyes fixed on the towering wall ahead. Wet sand clung to their boots, a reminder of the relentless storms that had battered the planet for months. Yet now, finally, the storm had begun to ebb.

  Amidst the same sand that had swallowed him up to his mid-calf, the Astartes stood utterly still. Like a statue hewn from stone, he was an immovable force in the desolate landscape. His oversized bolter rested in his hands, the underbarrel weapon adding a heavy, menacing weight to the firearm. At his sides hung a bolt pistol, a chainsword, and a collection of magazines, grenades, and various other pieces of equipment—many of which Elissa couldn't even begin to name. Yet it wasn't the weaponry that held her attention; it was the intricate markings and subtle details etched into his battle-worn armor.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  The towering figure was clad in emerald-green power armor, its surface scratched and scorched by countless battles. Draped across his shoulders was a mantle of black-scaled drakeskin, a grim trophy that shifted with his every movement. A skull, stark and unyielding, was emblazoned on the forehead of his helm—a chilling symbol of death and judgment. His left gauntlet bore the unmistakable sigil of the Promethean Cult, and a single crimson visor slit on his helmet glowed faintly, pulsing like the ember of a dying fire.

  Each pauldron told its own story. One was painted deep black, bearing the image of a red drake, its mouth agape with razor teeth. The other was similarly black but adorned with a yellow flame that licked skyward, vivid and alive despite its static form.

  It was the smaller details, though, that captured Elissa's curiosity. Painted flames rose from his boots, climbing the greaves of his legs. On the right, the artwork was immaculate—neat, precise, and deliberate, executed with the care of a practiced hand. But on the left, the flames were crude, uneven, and jagged, as though drawn by a child with an unsteady grip. The stark contrast between the two designs struck her like a discordant note in an otherwise meticulously orchestrated symphony.

  Before she could dwell on the implications of the mismatched artwork, the marine's voice shattered the stillness around them. Deep and resonant, it carried the weight of centuries of battle and duty, commanding attention as it echoed across the barren sands.

  "Hearken to me, sons and daughters of the Emperor! Step forth, that we may speak in His name!"

  Elissa cleared her throat, silently relieved that her voice didn't crack as she addressed an Angel of Death. "Welcome and well met, my lord!" she called out, her tone as steady as she could manage. "Apologies for the delay; we're clearing the extra barricades on the gate."

  Below, the townsfolk worked with frantic efficiency, hauling away the hastily added plates and beams that reinforced the gate. The crude reinforcements clattered as they were removed, leaving the way clear just as Elissa, flanked by Doc, stepped forward to greet the towering Astartes. As the gates groaned open, the marine strode inside, his presence immediately demanding attention.

  For a moment, Elissa was struck by just how small she felt. At five foot five, she had long learned to weaponize her unassuming stature, using others' underestimations of her to her advantage. But here, standing before this armored titan forged for war, she felt like a child standing before her father.

  The moment was broken by Doc, who stepped forward and gave the marine a respectful nod. "Welcome, Sergeant. I am Interrogator Malinov. What brings you here, so far from the battlelines?"

  The marine's crimson visor shifted to regard Doc, and his reply came in a measured, booming tone. "Greetings, Interrogator. Our scans revealed that this location is being deliberately bypassed by Necron forces—"

  Elissa's sharp grunt of disbelief cut him off before she realized what she was doing. She met his gaze, her voice rising in challenge. "Bypassed? I have seven dead, a dozen wounded, and a breached reactor core that refutes that claim. They started going around us two days ago, but they have attacked us."

  Doc quickly interjected, her tone placating. "This is Elissa Brandt, the mayor of this town. She has been coordinating our defenses against the xenos, alongside myself and our security team leader, Milo." She gestured toward the guard tower, where the gleaming barrel of a lascannon protruded, scanning the horizon.

  The marine— Vulkanis Kade, if Elissa recalled correctly from his transmission—gave her a slight nod. "As you say, Mayor. Regardless, their new movements drew the attention of our Mechanicus allies, and I volunteered to reconnoiter the area. Truthfully, I expected to find this settlement wiped from existence. I am pleased to be proven wrong." His tone softened slightly, though the metallic edge of his helmet's vox still rang clear. "You mentioned attacks. Please, explain what has happened."

  Elissa nodded, motioning for him to follow. "Come on, then. It's a bit of a story."

  -

  "Your people have had a difficult time of things," Kade said, seated atop a metal crate that served as his makeshift chair. His pitch-black skin, in stark contrast to the warm green of his armor, framed his crimson eyes as they met Elissa's emerald gaze. "But I must admit, I find it surprising that you dealt with a dozen melee-focused Necrons so easily."

  Elissa's lips tightened into a thin line, her eyes narrowing as she assessed him. "I wouldn't exactly call it easy," she replied, her voice edged with restraint. "But for whatever reason, they've been ignoring us for the time being. With the non-combatants already in Anaxis, we're planning on leaving as soon as the wounded are stable enough to travel."

  Kade nodded. "If you wish, I'll gladly carry your people aboard my shuttle. It should be able to accommodate the majority of your citizens," he offered, his voice low but steady. The tiny cup of gritroot tea at his side sat undisturbed, a quiet symbol of the soldier's stoic nature. "That said, I'll be conducting a sweep of the town. I was sent here to investigate, to find out what's truly happening."

  Elissa gave a measured nod, her gaze steady as she met the towering Astartes' crimson gaze. "Completely understandable. Take as much time as you need. We still have at least another day before the most critically wounded are fit to move. Would you like a guide, then, or are you good on your own?"

  "I would. Do you have someone in mind?" he asked, straightening to his full, imposing height. The faint creak of metal echoed from his power armor as he shifted, the sound a constant reminder of the war machine encasing him.

  "If you like, my daughter Tara could accompany you," Elissa offered, her tone practical. "She has some technical knowledge and might be able to answer some of your more advanced questions. I'd have Milo or Doc do it, but... well, they've got other priorities."

  "Understandable." Kade gave her a polite nod, his movements measured and deliberate. "I'll start at the wall, if you don't mind. Have your child meet me there." Without waiting for further discussion, he turned and ducked through the doorway, the soft hiss of hydraulics accompanying his departure.

  Elissa exhaled slowly, counting silently under her breath—one, two, three, four, five—before muttering, "Well? What do you think, Sasha?"

  The reply came immediately, a smooth, honeyed voice crackling to life from the comm system embedded in her wrist. "Oh, sugar, I've got plenty to say about that fellow. Especially about that man's augments. But for now? Thank you. I'll make sure you don't regret sticking your neck out for him."

  Elissa arched an eyebrow, glancing at the comm as Sasha continued, her tone shifting to one of bright satisfaction. "By the way, I've already notified Tara. She's on her way to meet him now, and excited as all hell."

  Elissa's expression tightened, her jaw setting as frustration flickered across her face. "You owe me an explanation, Sasha," she said, her voice low and firm. "No bullshit. If I'm risking my life—and the lives of everyone here—for you two, then you're going to tell me the truth."

  There was a brief pause, and when Sasha spoke again, her voice was softer, edged with guilt. "...That's fair. Will you wait until Koron's awake, though? There are…parts of this story that aren't mine to tell."

  Elissa hesitated, her fingers flexing as though she were holding back a sharp retort. Finally, she exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing only slightly. "...Fine," she said at last, her tone clipped.

  "Thank you," Sasha murmured, her voice warm but subdued. "For what it's worth, I'm grateful. We both are."

  Elissa turned toward the open door, her gaze drifting to the distant wall where the Astartes' towering form had already disappeared from view. Beyond, the storm-battered sands stretched endlessly, their shifting dunes glowing faintly under a pale sun. The storm had passed for now, but Elissa knew the calm was only temporary.

  She didn't reply to Sasha. She didn't need to. The silence that followed was answer enough.

  -

  Tara kept pace with the towering Salamander, though it was mostly due to his deliberate shortening of his stride to avoid forcing her to jog. Her boots crunched lightly against the sand as she glanced up at the massive figure beside her. "So, what are you scanning for anyway? There's not much here except, well… sand." Her voice was bright, her green eyes practically glowing with curiosity. Despite the grim setting, she seemed completely at ease, staring up at Kade's imposing features without a hint of fear. "And is that your vox unit? It's so much smaller than the ones we use! Where's its power supply?"

  Kade glanced down at the diminutive woman walking beside him, his crimson eyes briefly flickering with what might have been amusement, helmet tapping on his belt. "You are… unusually fearless," he said, his deep voice resonating with a tempered rumble. "Most mortals react to me with awe, or fear. Have you met an Astartes before?"

  Tara shook her head, her hip-length hair swaying slightly with the movement. "Nope! You're the first one ever! But since this might be the only chance I have to talk to someone like you, I figured I might as well ask a few questions." She grinned, her enthusiasm infectious. "Besides, Mom told me to help you out however I could, and a conversation seems like a good start, don't you think, Mr. Kade?"

  The Salamander let out a low snort, the sound somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh. The corners of his lips tugged upward in a fleeting grin, though it was quickly swallowed by his usual stoic demeanor. "Mr. Kade… I have not been called that in a long, long time." His tone softened for a moment, as if the words stirred some far-off memory. Shaking his head, he refocused and reached down, handing Tara the oversized auspex scanner.

  "Tell me, Miss Brandt, what do you see?"

  Tara took the bulky device with both hands, her lithe fingers dancing over its controls as she adjusted to the weight. "Please, just Tara. Miss Brandt is my mom. I'm only twenty." She gave him a sheepish smile before turning her attention to the auspex. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she studied the readouts. "Let's see… hmm… looks like a standardized scanning algorithm? You're looking for unusual energy readings, material compositions, and stuff like that, right? Emperor, this thing is leagues ahead of the auspex units I've worked on before. Everything's so crisp!"

  Kade tilted his head, observing her with a quiet curiosity. Despite her relative inexperience, she carried herself with a sense of eagerness and earnestness that was rare among those he encountered. He had expected awkward silence or stammered awe—but instead, he was met with genuine interest.

  "You have a keen eye," he said after a pause, his tone approving. "Most of your kind wouldn't even think to identify the algorithm, let alone remark on its clarity. Perhaps there is more to you than first meets the eye, Tara."

  The compliment brought a slight flush to her cheeks, though she quickly masked it with a grin. "Well, I've had a bit of practice tinkering with machines—Koron's been teaching me a lot. Still, this is next-level tech. It makes me wonder what else you've got hidden in that armor of yours."

  His lips twitched slightly, almost forming another smile. "Perhaps, if you prove to be as resourceful as you seem, I may show you."

  Tara looked up at him, her grin widening. "You've got yourself a deal, Mr. Kade."

  "And Koron? Your mentor?" He asked, watching her work the scanner with a surprisingly deft touch.

  "Yeah, he's one of the wounded, the worst one off. He's the one that turned the reactor core breach off after those little bug machines ripped it open. Nearly died doing it too." She replied, fingers pausing for a moment as she composed herself.

  "A brave man then. Not many would willingly go into deaths jaws." He replied. "I hope the emperors light comes upon him."

  "Me too." She softly replied before shaking off the thoughts. "A-anyway, mom said you're looking for reasons why the machines are leaving us alone, right? I don't know why, but if you have questions feel free to ask!"

  Nodding, he holds out his hand, retaking the scanner. "Can you tell me what happened the first time they came?"

  "Oh, sure!" Tara began, her voice animated despite the tension in her eyes. She gestured toward the wall. "We had about a dozen of the skeleton men making their way toward the gate. Spotted them from a ways off—always have someone in the watchtower." Her hand waved toward the lascannon emplacement, where the weapon's metal glinted faintly in the sun. "They weren't exactly trying to hide, you know? Picked them off quick with that gun."

  Her expression shifted, the light in her eyes dimming. "Then two days later, those…" Her voice faltered, and a visible shudder rippled through her frame. "The skin-covered ones showed up. They attacked the town and—" Tara stopped mid-sentence, her breath catching. She clenched her fists at her sides, taking a long, steadying breath before continuing. "Sorry. I'm still… dealing with all of that."

  Kade inclined his head, his expression softening. He said nothing, giving her the space to regain her composure.

  "The militia handled most of them," she finally continued, her voice quieter now. "Mom, me, and the staff gunned down three that jumped us. Koron… he took care of the ones that got into the reactor." She swallowed hard, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't know how many there were in there, but it was a close thing. Too close."

  Kade reached out, his massive hand resting lightly on her shoulder—a gesture of both reassurance and recognition. His deep voice carried a weight that spoke of shared loss and the resilience forged in hardship. "Be proud, Tara Brandt. Your people have survived where few others would have. That's no small feat."

  Her lips twitched into a faint, hesitant smile, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. "Thanks, Mr. Kade. That… means a lot."

  "Shall we continue?" he asked, his tone gentle but purposeful.

  "Yes, please!" she said quickly, her voice brightening as she seized the opportunity to leave the grim memories behind.

  As they walked, Kade's measured voice broke the brief silence. "Does the town have any unique landmarks, ancient ruins, or structures that stand out? Anything old that predates the colony itself?"

  Tara frowned thoughtfully, shaking her head. "Not that I know of? But to be fair, I'm young, and it never really occurred to me to ask. If you're looking for that kind of thing, the old folks we evacuated to the city would probably know better."

  Kade gave a slow, deliberate nod, as though mentally checking something off a list. "What resources exist in or beneath the town? Minerals, aquifers, energy nodes?"

  "We've got an aquifer—that's where all our water comes from—but no mines or anything like that," Tara answered, her tone growing curious. "And energy nodes? What would those even look like?"

  "Think concentrated energy points," Kade explained, gesturing with a gauntleted hand as if sketching the concept in the air. "Anomalous readings, high energy outputs. It could be natural or artificial."

  "Oh, then no, definitely not. If we had something like that, we'd be way better off. Before Koron fixed the reactor, we were barely scraping by. The old thing was running on a trickle charge—just enough to keep the rechargers going."

  Kade grunted softly, as if in understanding. "What about the town's spiritual practices?" he asked after a moment. "Are there relics or icons blessed by the Emperor? Any rituals that might hold unknown protective properties?"

  Tara's brows furrowed, and she tilted her head slightly. "Not… really?" Her tone was uncertain. "Doc made sure we kept up with our prayers—always said we needed to stay strong in faith. But protective rituals? Nothing jumps out to me. Do you have an example of what you mean?"

  "Icons, relics, or even particular rites tied to the Emperor's will. Sometimes blessings are hidden in plain sight," Kade replied, his tone calm but probing.

  Tara thought for a moment before shaking her head again. "No, nothing like that. Honestly, if we had anything blessed, it's probably just the fact we've managed to hold on this long. Feels like a miracle some days."

  Kade hummed thoughtfully, his glowing red eyes turning onto Tara, as though measuring the weight of her words. "Perhaps," he murmured, his voice low and contemplative. "Miracles take many forms… Hm." He paused, glancing toward the horizon before returning his attention to her. "Could you take me to the aquifer? I'd like to investigate something."

  "Follow me!" she chirped, spinning on her heel and bounding forward. But she stopped abruptly after only three steps, turning to glance back at him with a skeptical expression, her head tilted slightly. She studied him for a moment, her sharp eyes flicking from his broad shoulders to the top of his towering frame, as though silently judging his odds against the cramped spaces below. "Mr. Kade, I don't think you're going to fit," she finally said, her tone frank. "The halls aren't really built for someone as… tall as you."

  Kade's stern features softened, and for just a heartbeat, a grin crept up his face—nearly splitting his stoic demeanor before he quickly schooled his expression back into something neutral. "A fair point," he admitted, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Then would you be so kind as to retrieve a sample of the water, and some of the silt, for me?"

  Tara nodded, her loose strands of auburn hair swaying as she flashed him a wide, confident grin. "Sure thing! Be right back!" she said, her voice light with excitement. Without hesitation, she turned and bolted toward the back of the hill, her boots kicking up small puffs of dust as she disappeared.

  Kade watched her go, his expression unreadable. Once she was out of sight, he shifted his attention to the weathered wall at the entrance to the town, its surface pockmarked with years of makeshift repairs and scorches from past battles. With a deliberate motion, he keyed his vox.

  "Sergeant Merran," Kade said, his voice cutting crisply through the channel, "status?"

  A burst of static was followed by a familiar voice, the raucous laughter that carried faintly over the comms in the background. "Yes, m'lord. So far, all the scans you requested are coming back negative. We've been discreet, just like you ordered, so I don't think the locals suspect anything. However…" The laughter on the other end died down, replaced by a hint of seriousness. "There are two things of note, sir."

  Kade's brow furrowed beneath his helm. "What are they?"

  "The wall," Merran began, his tone matter-of-fact. "It's got these… small balls embedded all over it. Tech I've never seen before. We recorded everything; the data's been added to your video buffer for review. The second thing? Their lasguns."

  Kade arched an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "What about their lasguns?"

  "Well, we made some bets with the locals," Merran said "Wanted to see what kind of training they had. Turns out, they're good shots—real good, sir. Clearly used to fighting, which isn't surprising out here with the orks and raiders. But their weapons…" He hesitated, as though trying to find the right words. "M'lord, their lasguns put ours to shame. Night and day difference."

  "Explain," Kade pressed, his voice tightening.

  "We asked around—got a few drinks into them," Merran admitted with a low chuckle. "Turns out, someone named Koron upgraded them. He's their tech-savvy man, from what I gathered."

  "Koron…" Kade's voice trailed off as he mulled over the name, filing it away for further consideration, this being the third time he was mentioned. "I see. Excellent work, Sergeant. Continue as ordered and report back if anything else arises."

  "Yes, sir!" Merran's reply came crisp and assured before the vox clicked off.

  Kade lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon where Tara had disappeared. The wind whispered through the wet sand, carrying with it the faint metallic tang of the settlement's defenses and the distant echo of human resilience. Something about this town and its people gnawed at the edge of his thoughts. There was more here—he was certain of it. He would find the answers, even if they were buried deep beneath the surface.