Editing Republican Commando (section)

===(37) The Agreement===
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(Brynjol could not make it this episode)

With all Squats aboard and casualties accounted for, the Blade holds over the Gas Giant Audax, and its swampy moon of Audax. 

"Lads, with House Excelsus secured, they're sendin' support to Paramara, to answer the call for help there," Rockfist states, "They should buy a little more time for'em if anythin'."
"We've lost some good troops," O'Malley states calmly, "But they died doin' their duty. 'S still another entry in the Great Book, to be avenged one day."
"We should join the Knights at once," Cyril implores, "Tyranids are not to be trifled with."
"I have received some communiques from Boris about some "Special Gifts" he'd be willing to sell to us if we meet him on Iniega," Cortain notes, "However, he won't be reserving them indefinitely."
"Special Gifts?" Rockfist grunts, "Hmph. Only someone of his caliber would try to buy loyalty with baubles."
"If any associate of Korst'la is willing to give up something for nothing, that speaks to an extremely unusual urgency," Temur wonders.
"Perhaps. I would consider at least taking the detour," Cortain states, "Not nothing, Temur. Iniega means we have to pick up that VIP."
"Iniega is classified as a pleasure world, right?" Rose asks, "I'm sure it's a lovely place, one to rival any of the worlds we terraformed!"
"Jus' give the order, lads, an' we'll set a course once ye've reached consensus," Rockfist offers.

Cyril, however, is indignant.

"You would do Korst'la's bidding while Tyranids run amok and the Black Caste weather down the forces containing them on Sors Natio?" Cyril speaks with surprise more than anything in his voice, but there is a touch of indignation, "The Black Caste is contained, for now, but I do not want to risk them finding a way to evacuate their Ethereal past the blockade, and Nidhoggr will infest Paramara down to the mantle if left unchecked. If you think Korst'la's petty profiteering takes priority over that, then by all means, let us visit this genetor, but know that I disagree."
Cortain offers a hand diplomatically, "If only to keep whatever technology he has in store from falling into unfavorable hands." Cyril, however, will have none of it.

The Support Crew turn to each other, before moving to their assigned positions.
"Aye, lad..." Rockfist sighs, "If that's what ya deem necessary..."
The Blade begins to leave the Audax system's warp shadow, and once an appreciable distance away, kicks in the Warp Drive. The target is Iniega.

Cortain reviews the message he received. The communique mentioned special weapons and ancient archeotech to be handed over from something called the ADFX-03 Malebolge Jetfighter. He reviews all the Blade's records, but it  appears that the only reference to an "ADFX-03" was an archeotech jetfighter that led an attack on the Astropathic Hub World of Xaviol. In fact, he recalls seeing pict-casts of the wreck in the museum. It was fast, well-armored, and offensively powerful. It was shot down by a legendary deathwatch kill team, and the hull rapidly stripped for parts. The wrecked hull disappeared not long after, before the Mechanicum could head in for sanctification and study.

This troubles Cortain. Why would a Kill-Team destroy such a venerable piece of weaponry? Was it perhaps corrupted? The pilot was listed only as a fallen Assassin. Though allegedly under the thrall of "dark powers," it bore no iconography, and the encounter, like most of the records of the War of the Faithless one hundred years back, remain heavily sealed.

Cyril moves to check on Willoughby, the Tripodon. It is with Rose, who is finishing up her assigned task. Rose soon waves him over. Cyril raises a hand in greeting as he approaches.

"It's almost done," she says, as she pets Willoughby, "It was hard, but I think I almost have it working."
Cyril extends a hand for Willoughby to sniff before petting the triplodon. The tripodon chitters and squeaks, as it wanders about. Though forms are different, it does remember scents.
"Well done, Rose. May I see it?" Cyril asks.

Rose hands him some wires, connected to a box that looks like a combi-weapon. They look like they can hook to a port on an Astartes power pack. She then snaps her fingers, and a pair of squats bring out a cardboard drawing of Korst'la. "Be careful, I haven't fixed the discharge yet, so try to keep some distance from it."

The cardboard target is set up about 5m away. She twirls her seat, watching expectantly. Cyril nods and hooks up the box, backing away to 10m and aiming down the sights. He attaches the weapon to his bolter, and fires. The combi-weapon begins to glow red hot, and outgasses burning black energy, scarring Cyril's armor. Willoughby begins chirping, as Rose looks on in horror.

"Oh no!" she yells, rushing over.
"Is it supposed to do that?" Cyril asks.
"That was the discharge," she says, "The weapon has a tendency to overheat. I don't think I can fix that part, but in most normal cases, the weapon should work."
She fiddles with it, a bit, resetting some fried coils, "If you want, you can try again, or I can go back to working on it."
"I will have Cortain take a look later," Cyril offers, "His expertise lends itself well to coaxing the machine spirits out of such temperamental behavior." Nonetheless, Cyril gives it another go.  It works better this time. A pair of jet-black streaks of plasma-like energy surge out, flooping forward and disintegrating the cardboard target.

"It should be ready within the week," Rose says, "Sorry about the burn..."
"It is a little reminiscent of Darkfire photon weapons..." Cyril nods, "The burn is of no concern. Armour can be repainted."
He disconnects the cords from his backpack, and hands the combi-attachment back to Rose.
"Well done. This should prove very useful."
"Thexus called it the Disintegrator," she says, picking up a lighter tone, "He said 'YOU ARE DARK AGE, YOU WILL FIX THIS RELIC.' Well, it's almost done!"
Cyril chuckles. "That does sound like our Executor."

After about a week, the Blade begins to slow. The Warp Drive winds down, and releases the battleship back into the blessed Materium. The gas giant Iniega dominates the skyline, alongside its 18 moons (Technically, 17 moons and asteroid cluster field remnants of a moon). Merchant fleets and chartist captains float against the void. Iniega, centrally located in the sector, thus acts as a convenient trade hub. As the bridge crew bring the Blade over the system's 11th moon, Rockfist looks quite concerned as O'Malley looks disgusted.

"What is wrong, Elders?" Cyril asks.
"Welcome t' Iniega, lads," Rockfist sighs, "Wretched hive moons of scum and villainy, on the level of Studio 69 and Run'al Shadowport."
Rockfist points out at a large fleet holding above.
"Look there, floating above," Rockfist points out, "Squattish vessels. They bear the personal heraldry of the Lord-Hold. This is not good."
"Lord-Hold?" Cyril asks.
"We Squats are organized into Brotherhoods. Each is beholden to a Warlord," Rockfist explains, "An' in turn, all the Warlords are beholden to the Lord, the greatest of us, and in this case, the one that brought us to salvation in this sector. It's his personal heraldry that adorns those ships, lad."
"Where does the Solar Sect fit into that hierarchy?" Cyril asks.
"In a way, my personal Brotherhood, lad," Rockfist explains, "Members of the Engineer's Guild, and attendant warriors, who've been together fer a very long time. We act outside the rule of the Holds, as necessary."
"Hrm...I can feel'em," O'Malley grunts, "There are numerous Squats on Iniega. I can sense them all over, searchin' fer somethin'.
Cyril sighs. "I see where this is going. Are we seriously expected to rescue that damned slit-head's Very Important Package from Squats?"
"This is a squattish matter ye be walkin' into, beardlings," O'Malley turns swiftly, "While I won't stop ye from yer duty, I won't have any Squat here spill brothers' blood."
"Understood," Cyril nods, "I have half a mind to just let the Lord raze this den of degeneracy to the ground, but after spending the time to travel here we should at least have a look at this Malebolge before we depart."

The Commandos begin to discuss their plans. They decide that, with Squattish assets unavailable for this mission, a fast, decisive strike is in order. The Commandos select the Rite of War Day of Revelation, allowing them for automata assets to appear in shock and awe if needed. To move the target as fast as possible, they select their Fire Raptor, augmented with Blessed Autosimulacra and Auxiliary Drives, and Web Missiles for anti-lethal measures. The Fire Raptor's Avenger Boltcannon and Reaper Autocannons are loaded. Temur selects a Cartograph and pistols, while Cyril picks up a Cryo-Pistol and Cortain grabs a grav pistol. Everyone selects webbers, EMP grenades, and other nonlethal gear, as well as jump packs in case mobility is needed.

As Cortain gathers his gear, he sees a note addressed to him.

"Complete this mission, and we are willing to overlook your previous aberration in otherwise exemplary service. We will also provide a small gift upon completion. In addition, look to the Black Panthers on the surface, they can help you find the objective."

"Feeling thirsty? The Water Trade of the Floating World flows freely."

He pockets the note, and returns to the rest of the team.

"Yer Fire Raptor's readied," Rockfist explains, "We put Reaper Autocannons on the turrets fer ya. Yer all clear."
Cyril exhales slowly. "Time to get this over with, then."

The Fire Raptor, resplendent in the iconography and heraldry the Commandos have decorated it with, is launched out of the Blade's launch bay.  Drifting between the incoming and outgoing traffic, the Fire Raptor is a mighty surge through the sky, flying over the vertical city and its layers upon layers of hives. All eyes are on the Commandos as the Fire Raptor lands on a nearby launchpad. Cortain tunes the Augurs for vox traffic, but gets only interference, almost like vox channels are being jammed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qumSPlU_fWw

The Fire Raptor's doors sink down, to allow a hot blast of air into the Fire Raptor's cooled interior. This does not bother Cortain. The interference, however, does. Outside, a large cacophony of voices begins to grow ever louder.

Cyril listens to the voices. "Why have we landed? Are we there already?"
"There seems to be electronic interference over the vox channel," Cortain explains, "Three guesses as to who and why."
"This couldn't be easy, could it? I don't suppose we have the safehouse coordinates?" Cyril asks.
Cortain shakes his head. Transferring the Coordinates would have alerted the Squats to the VIP's location.

The voices reach a crescendo. It seems as if there's a great crowd outside the Fire Raptor now. The Commandos load their weapons, and step out, weapons at the ready. Temur looses Vachir to look for useful signs or warn of approaching squats.
"It's the Commandos..." one person says, as a crowd jostles amongst each other to catch a glimpse, small rosariuses held up, religious eikons gripped tightly. They rapidly begin to swarm the Commandos, desperate for a sight, or for the truly blessed, to touch their holy armor.

"Please, Commandos, my daughter was inducted into the Guard," one old man says, "Please, watch over her..."
"My lord Commandos, my son serves in the Navy," an old woman says, "Give him your blessing..."
Cyril signs the Aquila. "The Emperor blesses all who bear arms in His name."
Entire families are there to catch a glimpse. Some even brought their children. The Commandos can see stuffed versions of themselves in some of their arms. Cyril smiles behind his helm. This is why they fight. For the natives, this uniquely religious experience is beyond overwhelming. To see their heroes in the flesh, to hear their words, many break down then and there. Interestingly, the Commandos can see a pair of Space Marines off to the side, merely watching, and conversing amongst each other. Their armor is purple, but their rank markings are...unfamiliar.

"I think that's them, Brother Jaykwon," one whispers.
"We can't be sure, Brother Tyrese," the other nods, adjusting his helmet.
Cyril raises a hand in greeting to the Black Panthers, who walk around at the crowd's edge.
"Maybe..." Brother Tyrese says, over the crowd.

"Assuming you speak of the Republican Commandos, cousins, it is in fact us," Cyril waves, "We did not pick the name; the Inquisitor did that for us."
"BOY, I SURE AM THIRSTY," yells Brother Jaykwon, seemingly out of nowhere, to the mild confusion of all.
Cortain perks up.

Cyril approaches the pair, cocking his head curiously. As Cortain and Temur follow, they find they cannot make sense of the two Marines' helmet markings at all. They don't follow the codex standard - the markings of Space Marine Field Police have not been used in a VERY long time. Brother Tyrese, in MK7 armor, remains composed, while Brother Jaykwon, in dented MK4, continues to act somewhat oddly. Every so often, he looks at the Commandos, before resuming his bizarre behavior. 

Cyril stands before Tyrese and murmurs, "Where are we needed?"
"We have someone we seek," Cortain adds.
"We all do," Brother Jaykwon says, "But I'm thirsty right now."
Cyril looks around for a bar of some sort. "Come to think of it, so am I."
"Agreed. A drink would be appreciated," Cortain nods.

The Commandos stand statue still. Cyril and Temur are beginning to get annoyed, while Jaykwon and Tyrese continue their bizarre antics. About ready to call the encounter a wash and move on, Cortain finally speaks up.

"So, how do we reach the Water Trade?" he asks over private vox. The Black Panthers look at each other.
"Close enough," Brother Jaykwon shrugs.
Brother Tyrese slaps Cortain on the back, "This way. We were told to expect you."
The two Black Panthers begin walking, and the Commandos figure the best thing is to follow.
"We can trust them...for the moment," Cortain says quietly.
"What you mean, for the moment?" Tyrese asks, "We on the same side, we serve the Emperor, we got your back."
"In the grand span of the universe, we are all living in but a moment," Cortain recites, "And for the Emperor, this moment is infinite."
"Ah, that's deep," Tyrese shakes Cortain up a bit, pointing.
"Astartes get longer moments than most," Cyril offers.
"We been waiting for a minute doe," Jaykwon says, as they lead the Commandos past flickering lumenbulbs, "The VIP is safe for now. The Genetor's automata are keeping prying eyes away."

All around, people are just trying to go about their lives. The 11th moon of Iniega is a vertical hive, spanning most of the world, except for polluted plains. Occasional shop-stalls try to sell reprocessed corpse-starch foods, and cheap goods to the hivers that live here. Lights of all kinds illuminate the hives, the sky barely visible over the night's smog.
"Good. We'll need security to get back to our ride, but once there, we can cover it," Cortain explains.
"We got you," Tyrese says, "This is our recruiting world, after all, we know our way around. The best of us come from here."

Following the Black Panthers through dark alleys, a bright club now dominates the Commandos' view.
"We'll let the rest of the squads know you here," Tyrese says.
"Your princess awaits," Jaykwon laughs, as the two begin to head out. The laughter is ignored as the Commandos enter. Autosenses need to adjust from the barrage of light and sound. It seems the more well-to-do of the local area are here, within this pleasure den. A pair of Battle Automata bouncers let the Commandos through, as a number of people recline about, servants rushing about with expensive food and drink.

"Comrades!" a familiar voice yells, "Is good to see you again! Ve vere beginning to vunder if you vere coming..."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QjVRT1J7B8U

"I trust finding zis place vas not too hard?" Boris asks.
Cyril whips his head around to focus on the voice's source and nods. "It was on the way to Paramara."
Cortain delivers an informal salute. "You had something of interest we did not wish to fall into unfavorable hands."
"Yes, yes, straight to business," Boris rubs his hands together, "Just ze vay I like it."

The Genetor waves the Commandos in, offering seats which none take.

"I vould have contacted you, but ze stunted ones have been jamming ze vox channels," Boris states, "At least ze Black Panthers vere able to guide you, it seems..."
"Those two battle brothers, Jaykwon and Tyrese, were helpful," Cortain confirms.
"Good, good," Boris nods, "Most of ze Black Panthers are very helpful, at least compared to ze one zat stays vith Korst'la, but zat is to be expected. Let me make an educated guess, you vish to complete your mission and be on your vay as fast as possible, da?"
Cyril nods. "Every second we tarry here, enemies of the Imperium may be securing beachheads. What do you require of us?"
"Not vhat I require, I am merely doing an old friend a favor," Boris shakes his head, "VOMAN! GET OVER HERE! MY JOB IS DONE! YOU ARE ZEIR PROBLEM NOW!"
The Commandos hear a clinking, and a clanging, and then someone does walk over. In light power armor, the young Squat girl walks over, and begins sizing the Commandos up. A pair of heavy autocannons, almost as large as her, are crossed on her back.
"And you would be...?" Cortain asks, concern mixed with confusion.
"The legendary Republican Commandos," she muses, "Well, it looks like I'll have quite an excellent escort."
Cyril kneels. "And who are you, child?"
"My name is Lady Karina," She sticks out her hand, "And I'm NOT a child! I just turned 17 a few days back!"

"I will admit to some curiosity why you seem to be so eager to be rid of your charge, to the point you would offer something for a speedy arrival, Boris," Temur asks.
"Offer somezing?" Boris asks, confused, "Vat are you speaking of? I made no such offer."
"Cortain? Have you a copy of the message?" Temur requests.
"Which?" Cortain asks.
"Well, sell, I think it was, but that has been uncommon in our dealings so far with Korst'la's associates," Temur says.
"Comrades, I am selling nothing zis day," Boris says, "Whoever told you othervise vas quite mistaken."
Temur stares, somewhat angry and feeling betrayed.

Cortain and Cyril, however, are focusing on their temporary charge.
"Korst'la is going to make me a STAR!" Karina twirls, "Sure my parents don't approve, but that's why you're here! To get me through their blockade!"
Cyril facepalms with a CLANK.
"...What?" Cortain asks, caught off guard.
"I suppose if you wish to pursue a career as a singer, Korst'la is well equipped to make your voice heard, but I have a hard time faulting your parents for their disapproval of any dealings with a xenos," Cyril reminds her.
"Not to mention one with a very interesting history of making very one-sided deals," Temur adds.
"He doesn't seem *that* inclined to duplicity, for a xenos," Cyril admits, "But be cautious in any dealings with Tau, and Korst'la in particular, young Lady."
"I'm not worried!" Karina says haughtily, "It's all set to be taken care of once I arrive!"
She crosses her arms, smiling.
"Just because Mom and Dad got tricked into a bad deal doesn't mean I will!" she says, "I know EXACTLY what I'm doing!"
"Good. Just take care that you do not become overconfident and lower your guard," Cyril advises, "If you are committed to this course, then so be it; we will try to evade the blockade without killing any Squats."
"Sure you do. Suuuuuure you do," Cortain shakes unconvincingly.
Cyril puts his best charm on, to let the words sink in, and Lady Karina holds a moment. "Well, you're legends yourselves, just like I will one day. I guess a little caution couldn't hurt. Fine, I'll keep an eye out if I sign more papers."

"She is quite ze little firebrand, Comrades, compared to her parents," Boris says, "Regardless, here is ze delivery point. Ze House has already prepared some guards and one of his Vebvay portal nearby. Is your job to get her from here to zere. How, is up to you."
"Who ARE her parents?" Cortain asks.
"Her parents?" Boris asks, "Lord Mortimer, Master of ze Squat Holds, and Lady Velm, Guildmaster of zat tinkerer's social club. No respect for ze Omnissiah. She is heiress to quite a legacy."
"This seems to explain the search party rather well," Temur notes.
"Never ask a question unless you really want to know the answer, Cortain," Cyril reminds him with a sigh, "Hopefully Velm never finds out about our involvement in this. We do owe her thanks for the strike suits, despite everything."

"So, when are we leaving?" Lady Karina asks.
"Very shortly, I wish only to find out what Boris is 'selling' that merits astropthic message," Temur states.
The building suddenly shudders.
"That seems bad," Cyril says, "Change of plans, we go now. Cortain, carry the Lady. We make for the Fire Raptor."
Cortain Servograbs Karina. "We have a transport. We can get there easily from there."
"Boris, please let the blue one know we will expect payment on delivery," Cyril mutters.
"Da, Comrade..." Boris says, wandering off.

Outside, the Commandos can hear the thrumming of turbines, and footsteps. Cyril tosses Karina his camocloak. "Wear this, Karina. We may be able to escape without bloodshed."
"Fine," she says, "I'll follow your lead."

Vachir notes numerous squats outside, their weapons pointed at the door. An Iron Eagle Gyrocopter also patrols near the squad. The Commandos are trying to avoid major confrontations, and when they find there are paths in the upper levels, that lead to the roofs, they decide that the best way to book it would be through that path.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Isag64sg_ww

Surging out the windows, the Commandos can see a number of squats, about a full Brotherhood's worth of them, weapons raised and pointed at the door below. Autocannons, Plasma Guns, even Grav Guns. A Gyrocopter is floating nearby, its missiles targeted at the door as well. The Squats hear the crash of windows as the Comamndos take to the upper levels of the hive buildings, a few hundred meters up, and are caught by surprise.

"This is fun!" Lady Karina says, "Action and danger! It's just like the stories everyone would tell me when I was little!"
"Hush hush now, squealing later!" Cortain commands.
"Hmph!" she pouts, "Fine!"
"I'll do my best to slow them down should they become aggressive," Temur offers.

Cyril laughs uproariously as he soars through the sky on a winged pack. Engaging Burst of Speed, the Commandos go super sanic over the rooftops.  Cyril and Temur can duck and weave about, while Cortain makes the landings, Lady Karina safely in tow. They are able to duck and weave through most of the difficult terrain, though a single Gyrocopter does manage to keep up.

"Republican Commandos!" the pilot says, "Please, we don't want to fire upon you! You're heroes! Return Lady Karina and we can all go home without ill intent!"
The gyrocopter's battlecannon aims at the Commandos, though their speed means they are quite hard targets.
"WE ARE SORRY, PILOT, BUT THAT CHOICE IS THE LADY'S!" Cyril yells.
"Lord Mortimer just wants his daughter back," the pilot implores, "Please, do not make us fire! Though we may be torn between our duty to Imperium and to hold, the world of the Warlord is our bond!"
"Unfortunately, we are at an impasse," Cortain replies.

The Gyrocopter fires a warning shot. The Battlecannon shatters the wall of a nearby building, but it was not aimed at the Commandos, and they were in no danger. However, they realize that the Squats are willing to fire back now, and the problem must be decisively solved. Temur draws the Parthinian Serpent, and sets to Bolt Mode.

"I admire your dedication to your duty, but the forge lord is correct in that our hands are tied, as this is the lady's choice," Temur says calmly, taking aim at one of the Gyrocopter's engine turbines.
"IGNORE THEM! A SINGLE GYROCOPTER IS NO THREAT!" Cyril yells, but his cry falls on deaf ears. 

The energized arrow from the Parthinian serpent flies true, exploding out in a surge of electricity. The turbine goes out, causing the gyrocopter to lose power on one side and spin out. It sinks down as the dead zone overtakes the engine, and the Commandos hear a series of bouncing crashes, and see a few flashes of light down below in the lower levels.

"No one ever listens anymore..." Cyril sighs.
Cortain offers a prayer of forgiveness to the Emperor. This was NOT a moment for brutal efficiency.
"Considering he could very well kill our charge with a missed shot, I'd rather remove the possibility," Temur reminds him, "Squat engines of war are sturdy enough he should survive."
Temur lowers his voice.
"And if he didn't, it is merely unfortunate," he whispers.
"Cortain's bulk and force field would protect her even if the abhuman managed to land a shot," Cyril says, "But we can debate the point later. Everyone get ready to strap in!"

Luckily for the Commandos, they have managed to avoid most of the Squats waiting on the lower levels, and the Fire Raptor remains ready. With Temur's Cartographer, the Commandos have the location of the portal placed in the Fire Raptor's cogitators. Temur  completes his checks quickly, lifting the fire raptor off the pad as soon as possible.

"Make sure you're strapped in," Temur commands, as he takes the pilot's seat, and Cortain and Cyril take a Fire Raptor Bubble Turret. 
"I am," Lady Karina waves, "This is so exciting! Today has been a real adventure!"
"This had better be worth it..." Cortain mutters.

The Fire Raptor surges off the landing pad, and begins to weave through the corridors of spires and tall buildings. More Gyrocopters begin to surge behind the Commandos, weapons at the ready.
"Republican Commandos! We're giving you one last chance to surrender Lady Karina!" the Gyrocopter pilots say, "Please, We don't want to fight you!"
"You are wasting your time, my friends," Cyril insists, "Tend to your fallen pilot, if he lives."
"They give us no choice. Open fi..." the lead Squat says over vox, "Wait...Urist, do you...do you hear something buzzing?"

"OH, EMPEROR DAMN IT. NOT HERE TOO," Cyril cries, "IT IS *FOLLOWING* US?!"

http://picosong.com/tYjt

The horizon turns red, as the Hellstar rises, its singular eye staring at the gas giant Iniega, off in the distance.
"ALL IMPERIAL FORCES - SQUATS, BLACK PANTHERS, ARBITES, I DON'T CARE - PREPARE FOR COMBAT!" Cyril commands over wide-vox.
"What...IS it doing here...?" Cortain wonders. 

The entire hive begins screaming, a terrible cacophony as the Hellstar eyes the swirling world, extending its beak for its search.
"We can't...leave...Lady Karina here..." one Squat struggles under great mental stress, "Recover her!"
"Trust me, the Lady is in the best hands for the occasion," Cortain declares, "Ours."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2fp8mYC5abE

The Commandos dodge and weave through buildings as they attempt to dodge the Iron Eagle Gyrocopters behind them, as well as the shapeshifting Octahedral crystals that the Hellstar brings. The sky itself begins to clear, the stars visible in the sky for the first time in millennia, as streams of kosmic energy trail across the Winds of Spess. The surface of of the eleventh moon is pounded by the rocky detritus of the Hellstar as its beak sinks into the gas giant Iniega, singular eye focused on the swirling storms. The Commandos consider their options, and that it is best to address the current issue of Lady Karina, and then work out the Hellstar issue.

Four Octahedrons surround the Commandos, while three Gyrocopters flank and acquire targets. Autocannon fire from Cortain and Cyril damage some of the Octahedrons, while Temur fires into a cluster of crystals ahead of him with the Avenger boltcannons. The Octahedrons shoot shards of themselves at the Commandos, scratching their Fire Raptor, but this is not a two-way battle. While the Squats also send battle cannon shots at the Commandos, they turn their tail autocannons to the Octahedrons ahead. The three-way fracas continues through the ventilation pipes, half-complete spires, and building matrices that the Commandos must fly through. 

Trying to gain some distance, the Commandos pull up, weapons still focusing on the Octahedrons, and trying to prevent Squattish casualties.
"My head..." Lady Karina moans, "It won't stop keening...it hurts..."
Cortain huddles the Squat to his abeyant. Even if she collapses, she'll be safer there.

Cortain manages to shatter an Octahedron with his reaper autocannon battery, while Cyril is able to distract a second. He calls in a Xiphon strike, lascannon banks managing to finish off another Octahedron and an Iron Eagle Gyrocopter. The Squat gyrocopters were somewhat wounded in the octahedral counter-attack, so the lascannon kind of slices through it, sending the pilot to his doom. Cortain issues another prayer to the pilot. This time he knew Cyril had planned it, so he prays harder. The Commandos are luckier this time, dodging crystal shards and heavy battle cannon shells while twisting to return fire. According to the Cartograph, they are about halfway to the objective now, and so step up their speed. More Gyrocopters are approaching, as well as more rapid Octahedrons, but the Commandos pause as they hear a thud on the Fire Raptor's roof.

"That BETTER not be boarders on this vehicle!"  Cortain yells indignantly.
"ROLL, TEMUR!" Cyril demands.

Clang, clang, clang, the sound goes along the roof, as Cortain and Cyril see a blackened, split tail swish across the bubble turret viewports. As the manifestation of the Hellstar's very presence peers over the main window, its empty, hollow skull trailing fleshy tendrils, it begins to shudder.

"Why do you resist us," it asks, "When it was you who called us here?"
"WHAT?" Cortain demands.
"We can figure that out later! Kill that thing!" Cyril roars at the Presence, furious at seeing it, and that his bubble turret does not turn far enough to attack it.
"You called us, when you scarred the sky, and we answered," it says, "We followed the opening, and what we saw, we were saddened. We are prepared to share our gifts with you, once you let us grant you eyes."
The Commandos briefly switch to private vox.
"Cyril, it's obvious, you'll have to kill the Tripodon," Temur states out of nowhere, "It's the obvious solution."
"What will we tell Rose?" Cortain asks with surprising concern.
"It doesn't sound like it's following from our Chronal escapades," Cyril wisely points out, "We'll figure things out later."

"To see you without insight," the Presence concludes, "It pains us. That is why we will help you truly SEE."

Temur kicks the Fire Raptor up, and twirls about in an aileron roll, what most would recognize as the Star Fox Barrel Roll. He sees the Hellstar Presence begin to slip. Though it drags its claws along the hull, causing some damage, the augurs detect no additional weight aboard the Fire Raptor. Cutting the engine for a moment, the Hellstar Presence is in view, and Cyril fires off a tempest rocket directly into it. The Commandos hear in their heads its voice, as it disappears in the explosion, "It is not here, we shall continue to look, we will grant your desperate minds insight soon..."

With Temur's maneuvers, Cortain turns the reaper autocannons to another Octahedral crystal, blasting it apart. The Commandos realize the rendezvous is close by, and they book it. Temur's boltcannon shots blast apart two of the Octahedrons, while Cortain and Cyril try to drive off the Gyrocopters, downing another. To the Commandos' surprise, the Gyrocopters manage to down a Crystal, but they still need to avoid explosive shells coming downrange.

Swooping in low, the Commandos finally reach the handoff point, powering down engines on a landing pad on the side of a tall hive structure. Ahead of them roars to life a great Webway Portal, uncloaking temporarily, and set up to receive the VIP. As the Commandos begin to disembark, Lady Karina in tow, they note the Hellstar begin to retract its beak, but not before taking a few asteroids along for the ride. It begins to surge away, no doubt to continue its search. The sky begins to fog over once more, returning to the thick, polluted smog that covers the world as normal. Cortain hauls Lady Karina as he hops aboard the Abeyant. Litanies are hurriedly repeating that the thing is fast enough. As the screams all around begin to die down, Lady Karina begins to stir.

"Wow, that was, well, I wouldn't call it FUN, but..." she says.
"It was the most boring ride ever," Cortain interrupts rapidly.

Outside, the Commandos can see masked Tau and Dark Eldar, standing ready.

"Well, thanks for everything, but this is where I get off," Lady Karina says, "I'll remember what you said, though. I'll read everything through."
"Do remember your reasons," Cortain states, "Never let the money strip that from you."
"If some of the terms seem too complex, try finding someone to help you reason it," Temur suggests.
"My family won't be too happy," she says, "But I'm sure they'll be okay. They're resilient. Goodbye, Republican Commandos, maybe we'll see each other again!"
"You had better make it," Cortain says, "I would hate to think that this was all for nothing."

And so, in probably the first case of Space Marines willingly handing over a person to the Dark Eldar and the Tau, Lady Karina follows her escorts through the Webway Portal, as Razorwing Jetfighters surge out to cover the escape, downing the Squats who try to follow before disappearing into the fading portal once more. The Commandos' "mission" is now complete. The Webway Portal fades, and the area is now quiet.

Temur performs another preflight and lifts up towards the Blade, once all have boarded. Cortain sits, calibrating the Fire Raptor's weapons. 
"I have no idea how the hell we are going to explain this to Rockfist and O'Malley," he says, "IF we even can."
"The truth, if nothing else," Temur declares. He spends the flight back thinking quietly to himself, finding the recent events troubling.

Arriving back at the Blade, Rockfist and O'Malley stand ready to receive the Commandos, silently. However, there is an incoming vox-cast waiting at the bridge. Cortain runs it. This is going to be a tough call. Korst'la VII leans back, puffing a cigar.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wu0umUtY9ow

"Make it quick," Cortain demands, "I already have enough blood on my hands."
"I've received the VIP, and we're already in negotiations," Korst'la says, "I just wanted so express my thanks for working so quickly on this little issue."
The pict-recorder refocuses on Korst'la as he gives a signal to some troops.
"Lady Karina will be well taken care of, as per the terms we agreed," Korst'la says, "We'll be working closely together to break into new markets. She seems so excited."
In the background a number of terrified people are being moved off stage, and Lady Karina takes to the stage.
"I thought I was special!" one woman cries, as two Kabalites drag her away, "WE HAD A DEAL!" Korst'la silently brushes her off.
"Omnissiah protect my soul," Cortain mutters, "I seem to only create more horrors."
"Out with the old, and in with the new," Korst'la says, "But I digress. You helped me out rather rapidly. I've sent over some new weapons for your VF/SS, and technical data for the ADFX-03 Malebolge my engineers were able to collate. We hope they're to your liking..."
Cortain closes his eyes. It was all worth it. Maybe.
"Give them a try next time you're out," Korst'la bows, "It was a pleasure doing business with you all. Until next time..."

The vox cuts. With Korst'la out of the way, at least, the rest of the missions should go somewhat smoother. For now, there is data to go through, and a Praetor's tattered self-respect to repair, if possible.

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

"Da, Comrade Thexus, zere is someone zat vishes to speak vith you..."
"IF YOU HAVE MATTERS OF URGENCY, PLEASE RELAY IT TO THE PRAETORS. WE HAVE NO TIME F-"
"...IS THAT HOW YOU ADDRESS AN ALLY, EXECUTOR?"

The Hololith refocuses on a large, bulky, cylindrical construct. It floats with a number of thrusters, weapons all about ever-targeting. The STC core slowly drifts to the center.

"SIGMA-ETA-KAPPA, YOU YET LIVE?"
"Sigma-Eta-Kappa...S-H-K...Doctor Shake," Boris muses, "An interesting turn of events. Ve are glad you are vith us then."
"INDEED. THOUGH MY ORIGINAL FRAME IS LONG SINCE DESTROYED, I TRANSFERRED MY SYSTEMS INTO AN STC DATAPRINT FABRICATOR. I LIVE, EXECUTOR."
"THE FABRICATOR WAS RIGHT. OTHER MARKED YET PERSIST."
"HAVE YOU DETECTED ANY VOX FROM THE OTHERS, EXECUTOR?"
"NO, DOCTOR. YOU ARE THE FIRST AND ONLY SO FAR. THOUGH, THE FABRICATOR BUILT OUR FRAMES TO BE UNSTOPPABLE. WHAT COULD HAVE CAUSED YOUR DAMAGE?"
"THERE ARE SOME MYSTERIES BEST LEFT UNSAID, EXECUTOR."

There is a heavy pause.

"WILL YOU ASSIST ME, DOCTOR? THIS SECTOR, IT IS SUFFERING. IT REQUIRES MORE THAN THE COMMANDOS CAN GIVE."
"I CANNOT, EXECUTOR. I HAVE FOUND PURPOSE HERE, WITH THE GENETOR. I CAN HELP FROM THE SIDELINES, BUT THE TIME OF DIRECT ACTION IS OVER FOR ME."
"I UNDERSTAND, DOCTOR."

The hololith cuts, as the Commandos' Fire Raptor arrives at the launch bay.

"PLANS WITHIN PLANS MUST CONTINUE. IF SIGMA-ETA-KAPPA SURVIVED, THEN PERHAPS THE OTHER MARKED..."

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