The Multiverse Project: Warhammer 40,000

Seriously, Tangmo knew the 40k canon was fucked the moment they entered the universe. This was made starkly cleared by the emergence of skaven ratmen and Chaos Sororitas. Factions that were never mentioned in the thirty years' worth of lore written by Game Workshop were now major players on the galaxy at large. So honestly, Tangmo shouldn't be surprised that Chaos Eldar was now a thing. But he was, he really unbelievably was, and he didn't like this shit one fucking bit.

"Casualties?" Tangmo asked Henry, both of them were walking through the encampment situated outside Meng Hu, erected after the last of the Chaos elves ran back into the Warp. The soldiers stood tall and ready, shoulders squared as they saluted the pair, but there was a grim, almost despondent quality to their posture. Tangmo couldn't blame them, they've been bloodied badly.

"Four thousand dead," Henry said grimly, his mood dark like Tangmo's. "And about twenty thousand injured, it's gonna take months before they'll be combat ready again."

"This is across the board?" Tangmo tipped his hat as they strode passed one of the many medic tents. The humans and eldars sprawled on the stained cots, the ones who were conscious, reciprocate with grateful nods.

"Yeah, and leaning toward the eldar side," Henry nodded as the pair took a right at four way junction and headed for the large command tent, where the main characters were waiting. And looming beyond was the pagoda where the nuns and priestesses were massacred, and also where Miriael had unveiled her new elvish allies. The sharp indomitable shape was a dark blade outlined by lightening gray sky. The sun was coming back after its fifty five days absent.

"That's fucking bad, eldar troops are not easily replaced," Tangmo grunted and was approaching the tent, flanked by Sidonius of the Ultramarine and Matuk of the Salamander, when he spotted Miriya and Firnera's squad coming in from the right, all of them looked like shit, both figuratively and literally. Tangmo held up his hand in greeting. "Hey."

"Lord commissar," Miriya bowed, Firnera and the others following suite halfheartedly. "I've heard that we have you to thank for holding the line against the…fallen Aeldari. Well fought sir."

"I sure as hell didn't do it alone, but yeah, we held the line," Tangmo offered Miriya a deflated smile, the vulnerability surprising the Celestians and the Banshees. "Are you guys hurt? I can get Ryvin here if you want."

"Our wounds were fortunately superficial lord commissar, Verity and Alnelle had done a splendid job of keeping us healthy," Miriya said and the two medics beamed brightly.

"I'm glad all of you are okay," Tangmo sighed in relief. The amiability was again met with startlement, of the positive kind, from the warrior women. "Get yourself a nice chow, all of you earned it."

"Go ahead," Miriya nudged her head and the nuns and elves marched toward another tent ten paces away, waft of aromatic steams drifted gently through the billowing flaps, a heady invitation for the tired and weary. Even Tangmo's stomach gurgled from the mouthwatering smell as the Celestians and Banshees disappeared into the refectory. Miriya and Firnera remained with him and Henry however.

"We would like to attend the interrogation, lord commissar, lord general," Firnera said. Her voice strained with exhaustion and anger.

"You are more than welcome," Henry tipped his awesome general hat and together with Tangmo, Miriya and Firnera marched into the command tent. Sidonius and Matuk bowed then held the canvas opened for them, Tangmo waiied the Space Marines lowly and stepped inside with the three, and was met with crushing silence. The atmosphere was suffocating, as if he'd just walked into a vacuum that sucked every particle of oxygen from the air, the absolute crushing soundlessness was a nauseating pressure that did little for Tangmo's mood. The main characters, humans and eldars, turned to regard them solemnly and parted an avenue for the four. Nodding his thank, Tangmo and Henry strode forward while Miriya and Firnera blended into the crowd, where whispered greetings were exchanged, the Thai and American joining the rest of the Eight at a circular opening, occupied by a single chair.

"Where's the prisoner?"

"Unhand me you worthless scums!"

And that answered Tangmo's question. Every head turned to a smaller flap directly opposite the entrance, where Elraleath and Olatien were dragging a very uncooperative Chaos Eldar toward the chair. The black haired elf, one of those knight samurai hybrid sum bitches that had cut a swathe through guardsmen and Guardians with gleeful impunity, had his hands shackled behind his back, his pretty face bleeding and battered, yet he refused to shut his fucking mouth as the two Aspect Warriors hurled him onto the chair, bolted to the ground Tangmo now saw. Well, he did shut the fuck eventually, after Elraleath and Olatien beat the ever loving crap out of him, stunning the bastard long enough for him to be chained to the chair.

"Worthless dogs," the Chaos elf spat at Elraleath, who dodged the bloody molar with ease as he and Olatien joined the rest of the battlegroup. "Doing the bidding of these mon-keigh animals, you deserve nothing but death and ruination!"

"I'm sorry, but weren't you pretty much Miriael's goons?" Lita spoke up sharply, her anger manifesting in a transparent, simmering aura that now enveloped her body. "You were the one who obediently went about doing everything the Slaanesh champion command. She say jump, you jump. She say sit, you sit. She say roll over, you roll over."

"You wretched whore! Your mouth is not worthy to even suck my cock!" Well shit, Tangmo had expected the Chaos elf to be more eloquent and sophisticated, linguistically speaking. Come to think of it, now that the mofo wasn't wearing his armor, he doesn't even look like an elf. Instead of lithe and lean, the evil elf was broad and wide, the muscle mass matching his elongated frame, proportionate and well built, an intimidating warrior physique. Not anywhere near as huge as an Astartes, mind you, but surprisingly big nonetheless.

"And you are very rude," Lita went on crossly. "But I don't very much give a damn about your manner, right now I need you to cooperate and actually do something good for once in your life."

"A whore, and a stupid one at that," the Chaos eldar sneered and swept his poisonous gaze over the Eight. "Tell me, which of these animals did you fucked?"

"This is your last chance," Lita ignored the insult. "You will tell us about the Chaos Aeldari, your alliance with the Ruinous Power, and why you didn't take Isha's relics from the pagoda."

"And I shall tell you nothing," the evil elf snorted condescendingly. "So you can go ahead with the torture now, I've always like an audience. One of the boons the Exalted Queen bestowed upon us is making pain and pleasure indistinguishable from one another, each exquisite and heightened to a rapturous degree. Maybe if you're good, and use that pretty mouth of yours to bring me to an adequate release, then I might be moved to share some information."

"Then there's nothing more I can do," Lita turned to Laura, the British inquisitor was wearing a blank expression that Tangmo knew too well, the face she wore when things were about to get extremely violent. Which given the situation, didn't seemed like the best idea, the Chaos eldar fucker pretty much said he got off on pain, "all yours Laura."

"Very well," Laura stomped up to the bound evil elf, the man blew her a kiss and the Englishwoman reciprocated by snatching up a shock of his glossy black hair, yanked it harshly to the side and stabbed a thick needle savagely into his jugular. For all his talk the Chaos eldar wasn't enjoying himself, hissing through gritted teeth as Laura injected bluish silver liquid into his neck. When the concoction was emptied completely into his body, Laura wrenched the needle free harshly, leaving a trail of dark blood running down the man's neck. "Any more comment, you cheeky cunt?"

"A needle and a poison? Pathetic," the Chaos eldar growled, oblivious to the world of hurt he was about to enter, because Tangmo just remembered what the concoction was.

"Oh my, I think you're a bit slow after taking all those noggins to the head," Laura flipped open her data-pad and started tapping away, the glare she shot the Chaos eldar was very yandere looking. "No, those things in your bloodstream right now? They're nanites mate, and not the nice kind either."

"Am I supposed to be…argh! What is – what's going on?!" The Chaos eldar's eyes bulged out of his skull, every vein pulsing clear across his head and neck, muscles taut to the point of snapping.

"All your body are belonged to us now, asshole," Yuki skipped up to Laura's side, the two women looking absolutely psychotic as the British inquisitor pressed her data-pad, causing the Chaos eldar to wail in pain, and not the masochistic kind either. "Boy, that didn't look too enjoyable, was it Laura?"

"Certainly not Yuki," Laura drew another scream from the evil elf after swiping across the screen. "Why, he seems to be in massive amounts of pain."

"W-What did you d-do to me?! Yeeargh!" The Chaos elf howled as Laura continued to tap the data-pad, and Tangmo had to stifle a laugh. What? The way the mofo jerked and thrashed in the chair was kinda funny. A swift, stern glance from Lita shut him up quick enough though.

"Simply put, you douchebag," Yuki strolled around the twitching evil elf and gave him a good smack on the head, "the nanites has given us completely control over your body. Also, because you're not the first Slaanesh buttfucker we've come across, we've nullify your pleasure synapses and nodes, blocking it, stopping the secretion of endorphin and dopamine, leaving behind only raw pain. Oh, we can also make you tell us anything we want, while turning your blood to lava. So let's start with something very simple, what's your name?"

"Fuck you!" The Chaos eldar doesn't seem to realize how much shit he was in.

"Laura?" At Yuki sweet insistence, Laura ordered the nanites to extract the information, while also unleashing a torrent of pain on the prisoner. The man screamed so loud that Tangmo thought he was gonna dislocate his jaw.

"F-Fandor!" The answer came reluctantly through red foaming spittle.

"That wasn't so hard now was it, my dear Fandor," Laura went on pleasantly and eased off the pain, causing the evil elf to collapse into the chair, his breath ragged and heavy. "Let's continue shall we? Another simple question, what are you?"

And Fandor had to be stubborn, glaring at a very disappointed Laura, who then proceed to agonize him some more. Four more times did Laura tased Fandor, and Tangmo got a little concern that one of the Aeldari in attendance was gonna object to this brutal interrogation. Unfortunately for Fandor, his good kinsmen didn't give a rat ass that he was getting tortured, and if Tangmo had discerned the atmosphere correctly, the moods of the Aeldari appeared to veer from poisonous satisfaction to outright delight. Firnera and Elraleath actually looked disappointed when Laura turned the nanites off. Fandor was weeping now.

"I-I'll talk! Please! Just stop! Ahhh!" Laura shocked him one more time just to get the point across, Fandor howled pitifully at the ceiling, his pain twisted visage confused and pleading. "Exalted Queen! Please! Why have you forsaken me?! Have I not been faithful?! Have I not loved you?!"

"Yeah, keep crying you tosser," Laura snorted then pointed up at the ceiling. Well shit, every inch of the canvas was covered in churchly inscription, verses and sentences gilded in gold. "But go ahead you weepy cunt, nothing can get through the Sororitas's warding up there. Thank you again for the assist ladies, top job." The canonesses and Celestians received the praise smugly as Laura turned her attention back to the trembling Fandor, her finger hovering above the data-pad. "Now, I'm gonna ask you nicely again. What are you?"

"I-I'm an Aeldari," Fandor steadied his breathing, the contemptuous inclination returning. "The true Aeldari, the one who had ruled and will rule this galaxy again, not these hermits who flees like cowards and deny their true nature. We are the ascendants who had been enlightened by the Exalted Queen, who love us above all other wretched races that infest the stars."

"Liar!" Firnera roared, her normal voice almost as piercing as her Banshee scream, the Aspect Warrior was snarling like a pissed off wolf, held at bay by Miriya and Xiphos. "Slaanesh devour and enslave our soul and you bow your head to that creature?! You deserve to die, traitor!"

"How is it that you are so chummy with Slaanesh?" Yuki now asked.

"I was there when she gave her glorious birth cry to the galaxy," Fandor said wistful. "I bathe in her magnificent as she reached into the material world…oh, it was beautiful."

"How come you didn't die?" Yuki pressed on.

"Why would I die?" Fandor grinned. "The Exalted Queen treats her children well and will never forget a service rendered in her name. After all, me and mine were the ones who brought her to life."

"Yes, we all know what happened, you dickheads kinky fuck a god of debauchery into existence," Damien deadpanned with a shrug, not in the least bit impressed. "Seriously dude, that isn't something you should be bragging about."

"You misunderstood, mutant," Fandor sneered as he tilted his head at Lita. "We were the one who incubate and nurture Slaanesh from infancy, strengthening her, shielding her, nourishing her as a womb would a new born. Who did you think were the orchestrators behind this divine undertaking? Forging and directing the Aeldari Empire toward the grand eventuality?"

Nobody said anything for the minutes that followed, the main characters slowly distilling the information the Chaos Eldar had given them, comprehension and realization dawning to shocks and horrors.

"Wait, hold the fuck up," Henry broke the silence, pointing at Fandor while snapping his head around at the Eights. "Did he said what I think he just said?"

"That he and his goons are the reason Slaanesh is a fucking thing right now?" Tangmo said and Fandor grinned haughtily. "You people are allies of Slaanesh, her worshipers instead of food."

"Bravo! Bravo! What a rare treat it is to see a mon-keigh capable of such complex thinking."

"How?" Lita cut in before Fandor can make any more remarks. "Slaanesh was born from a physic detonation at the peak of the Empire's mad depravity, creating the Eye of Terror in the process. None of you should even be alive."

"Yes, that is the lie the survivors told their descendants, isn't it? That the Exalted Queen gave her birth cry when the Aeldari Empire descended to the lowest depth of degeneracy, well, you are not completely incorrect in that regard," Fandor swept a pitying look across the tent, making the eldars blistered. "Or maybe all of you are truly ignorant of your own history."

"You lie!" Elraleath roared, his thunderous admonition joined by the other Aeldari, with many trying to push through the encircling crowd and have a piece of Fandor. The fact that the usually calm and collected eldars were now baying like a lynch mob, with the Imperial Guards and Sororitas of all people holding them back, was fucking hilarious.

"I don't think so," Nikki approached the bound Fandor and the tent fell silence when she reached for her weapons studded belt. There was an audible groan, tinged with no small amount of disgust, when the Russian exarch knelt down in front of Fandor and held a sloshing canteen toward him. "Thirsty?"

Fandor hesitated for a moment, not blind to the good cop act, but nodded eventually. Nikki tipped the canteen down his gullet, the evil elf couldn't hide how eager and grateful he was for the water, drinking quick big gulps.

"Better?" Fandor nodded curtly to Nikki's question. "Good, now you better give us a short, abridge version of your history, or I'm gonna have my British and Japanese friends there get a little handsy with the data-pad again. And I don't think they'll be holding back this time."

"Very well," Fandor sat up a little straighter, making the smart choice. "As I've said before, it was through our machination that brought Slaanesh, the Exalted Queen, into the universe, a force of such unimaginable power that rivaled Khorne, Tzeentch and Nurgle themselves."

"Something tells me this doesn't involve orgy on a titanic scale," Erik deadpanned.

"No it doesn't young one, but we do indulge now and then," Fandor snickered darkly. "Our artistry and imagination put those rats in Commorragh to shame."

"How about we stay focus on the topic, yeah?" Laura eased her finger slowly down toward the data-pad's glowing screen.

"We of the Core World within the Empire knew of Slaanesh coming, tens of thousands of years before her glorious birth," Fandor went on easily, a man reminiscing the good old days. "The nobilities and scientists of the Empire were the first to make contact with the Exalted Queen. She promised true greatness and majestic immortality, and so we help hastened her ascension to divinity, steering the Empire toward that glorious fate."

"You know the bitch fucking lied, right?" Tangmo piped up.

"Did she though, mon-keigh? If that was so, then how come I am still here? Hale and free without the inescapable shadow of death shrouding my every waking moment?" Fandor barred his canines, filed needle sharp, in a haughty smile at Tangmo. "No, the Exalted Queen has elevated us, her most beloved children, to our rightful place by her side, where we now rule our glorious Empire unrivaled."

"The Empire was destroyed in the Fall," Olatien growled lowly.

"On the contrary, we have never been stronger," Fandor went on. "Admittedly, the birth of the Exalted Queen had severely depopulated our numbers, much more so than what was initially estimated. But after ten thousand years of silence, combined with the emergence of the Rift…the galaxy will know of us again."

"What happened to the other Aeldari?" Henry now asked. "You know, the average Joes and Janes you tricked into committing mass suicide to bring about your god of crazy sex."

"They did their parts," Fandor shrugged easily. "Like a gourmet meal, we of the Echelon marinated, spiced, cooked and prepared the subjects of the Empire into an offering worthy of Slaanesh. There will never be something so magnificent again mon-keigh, all those souls brimming with energy and essence, brought to height unheard and undreamed of, chalices spilling with vintage of the greatest kind, millions, billions, trillions, each beautiful and unique in flavor. To see it consume, and bathe in the afterglow, was rapturous."

"They were our people," Lita seethed, both hands clenched into shaking fists. "Fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters, innocents driven to madness and degeneracy by lies and selfishness, how could you have betrayed them?!"

"Because we are worthy, and they are not. Those of superior breeding need not share the stars with those of lesser birth," Fandor said, reveling in Lita's rising anger. "But we were not unkind, because even the dredges deserve peace, pleasure and enlightenment within the loving bosoms of the Exalted Queen."

"What do you mean by that?!" Lita demanded.

"Through spiritual weaving, every thread and needle joined by the intricate immaculacy of the Warp, every Aeldari soul that had consummated in the rapturous orgy, and even the cowardly Craftworlders, were woven into the very fabric of the Exalted Queen herself," Fandor grinned maliciously, feeding off the boiling anger pouring from the eldars. "Yes, we made sure that you ingrates and cowards will be of use to Slaanesh in your death, where she will dine on your inescapable suffering for all eternity. Many of your warriors have received the Exalted Queen's welcome, shall I regale to you how loud they screamed?"

"You bastard!" Lita roared and would've tore Fandor's neck open if Nikki, Laura and Yuki didn't held her back, tongues of lightning flew from her fingers, managing to singed the evil elf a bit. The Mexican Warseer had always acted as a litmus test for individuals the Eight came across. If you manage to make Lita swear at you, then you're an irredeemable piece of shit. And Fandor had achieved that distinction with flying color.

"Why are you attacking Isha's and her convent?" Damien raised his voice, bringing the raucous to a stop. "Shouldn't you people be more concern with the Ynnari?"

"Ynnead is weak, a god reverted to embryotic infancy that needed to be revived, while Isha is strong, old and wise to an inconceivable degree," Fandor sneered at the mention of the goddess. "Ynnead represent desperation while Isha is a beacon of hope, and what better ways to break an enemy than to kill hope itself? Besides, more are flocking to the life goddess than the dead god."

"If Isha is so goddamn important why are her relics still here?" Henry demanded. "You shitheads could've destroyed it, but you didn't. Why? The thing wasn't even tainted for Throne's sake."

"Because it does not matter whether the relics were destroyed or not," Fandor shrugged. "We recognize the craftsmanship and the inner work of the artifacts, the maker is probably amongst our ranks, therefore we only need access to it. Isha imprint a part of her soul, unwisely, into those relics, which make it so terribly easy for us to find her. Even now, Syrathel is mobilizing the armada for the assault to come."

"That's why you sum bitches bolted like a bunch of pussies after only a few hours of fighting," welp, it was about time Tangmo enter the fray, but he wasn't being funny this time. For all his big talk, Fandor couldn't stop squirming as Tangmo made his menacing approach. "Then again, your bosses have always been more competent."

"We are own by none, boy," Fandor growled.

"You're no different from all the other cultists we gunned down," Tangmo went on, putting on his best commissariat glare, smiling inwardly at how uncomfortable Fandor was becoming. "No, for all your weapons and supposed prowess, which wasn't even that impressive anyway, the Chaos Aeldari, the most beloved of all Slaanesh's children, are nothing but Miriael and Syrathel's little bitch."

"Mon-keigh scum!" Fandor snarled. Cuffs jangling as he tried to reach Tangmo.

"That was all horseshit, wasn't? All that crap about how Slaanesh love you people? You're just making things up to make yourself feel better, selective memory kinda shit," Tangmo continued mercilessly. "Because if Slaanesh truly hold you people above all others, why wasn't it you and your glorious army leading the attack on Yomi? Why were you kept in the dark and used as a last resort? Could it be that Slaanesh see mankind as being above the Aeldari slaves she tricked into freeing her?"

"Shut your fucking mouth!" Fandor roared, managing to rock the bolted chair back and forth, but he wasn't able to dislodge himself. Whoever said 'truths hurt' was absolutely fucking right. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"

"You're in no position to kill anyone," Tangmo said coldly then turned to Laura. "We got everything out of the little bastard, have the nanites kill him. Make it slow."

"W-Wait!" Fandor blurted, hostility drained away in the face of impending, painful death. "I-I can tell you where the armada is heading!"

"Loyalty isn't a big thing for you people, is it? Can't say I'm surprise," Tangmo snorted. "And we captured your ass before the battle was over, so there's no way you could've known where Syrathel was heading. Nice try though, but tough shit."

"The Vhilytra system! The armada is heading to the Vhilytra system!" Fandor was getting very desperate now, the Chaos elf looking breathlessly at the Solace Sun Aeldari, specifically the warlock Fanduin. "Tell them! Slaanesh has been looking for the system for so long, and now she has found it! Tell them, damn you!"

"Is he for real?" Tangmo turned to Fanduin, the warlock was pale and taut despite his best attempt to rein in his emotion.

"I'm afraid he is correct," Fanduin nodded solemnly. "The Vhilytra system is the Order of the Solace Sun's stronghold, where six Craftworlds settled down after the Fall. It was here that we erected temples in Isha's name, and after ten thousand years, successfully plotted her escape." The warlock hesitated for a moment, before sighing in defeat. "That is where Isha is currently residing. The system is hidden within a restless nebula cloud, enhanced and warded by the Solace Sun to keep it hidden from the endless war that had consumed the galaxy. I fear that is no longer the case."

"Can you confirm what he'd just said?" Tangmo asked. "I mean, can you check if the artifacts have indeed been used to locate Isha?"

"I can. I'll get it done within a day, lord commissar," Fanduin bowed gravelly.

"Good," Tangmo titled his head inquisitively at the warlock before turning back to the Chaos elf, one brow quirking. "Fanduin, Fandor, you guys are not related are you?"

"Beg your pardon lord commissar, but I would greatly appreciate it if you do not make the insinuation that I am in anyway related to this…traitor," Fanduin growled, the air around him shimmered with bubbling energy and Tangmo held up his hands quickly in supplication.

"Alright dude, chill! I'm just surprise eldar names are so similar," Tangmo let out a breath of relief when Fanduin calmed down, the warlock only glaring at him now. Adjusting his awesome commissar coat, Tangmo glanced at Fandor with a deadeye stare then said. "Kill the fucker."

"I told you everything! I told you! Spare me!" Fandor roared, even his begging sounded like a demand.

"Fuck you," Tangmo spat and nodded at Laura. "End him."

The beginning of Fandor's plea ruptured into a hellish scream, the juxtaposition between his indescribable agony and Laura's aloofness in bringing the executioner's axe down, so to speak, was actually pretty fucking unsettling, if not satisfying. The Chaos eldar's howls of anguish lasted for about thirty seconds before the nanites devoured his vocal cord, before moving on to the tongue, trachea and windpipe, the evil elf's neck visibly deflating as his breathes, wet raspy things coming in scarlet splatter, slowed until, after another excruciating minute, finally ceased. But his death didn't stop the nanites from completing their works. Like a horde of fire ant descending upon a freshly dead carcass, the microscopic robots devoured Fandor from the inside out, sickly red blossomed across his skin before the wounds broke and expanded, fleshes and bones liquefied, eating away every organic material in their path. It took five minutes for the nanites to completely consumed Fandor, leaving only his raiments and blob of dark pinkish slush on the chair, the byproduct of biological destruction. Lita had watched the execution in its entirety, unmoving and stoic, but now her shoulders sagged terribly, tears brimming in her eyes at having to witness such unspeakable inhumanity, the beginning of a sob was starting when Laura, Yuki and Nikki drew her into an encompassing hug, sharing the pain. Tangmo glanced sharply at Dalthorn, the Ulthwe Black Guardian was looking worryingly at Lita, unsure of whether to comfort her or not. The Thai commissar made the decision for him by pointing at the Mexican Warseer, fixing the boyfriend with his most intimidating glare. Dalthorn flinched and hurriedly went to Lita side, the Warseer sinking into his arms. When he and Lita broke up, Tangmo didn't turn into a jealous ex, instead he became a concerned big brother.

"Shit," Henry broke the silence that had followed Fandor's demise.

"Exactly," Tangmo agreed, took a deep breathe, and then said. "I want to call a vote."

"Go for it," Damien said, knowing full well what Tangmo was about to say.

"We have our next target," Tangmo clasped his hand behind his back and turned to the gathered main characters, all of whom were now looking at him. "We are heading to the Vhilytra system, to stop Syrathel and her army from killing Isha."

Agreeing murmurs rippled across the room, loudest from the eldars but quite poignant from the humans also.

"The high command has already made their decision," that earned sharp nods from his homies, "but I need majority consent to go ahead with this undertaking, considering how unorthodox the objective is. The mission statement of the Immortal Spirit battlegroup is to discover lost knowledge and oppose all enemies of the Imperium, missions that we have carried out with exemplar success, well, until this one," a few sardonic laughed answered Tangmo. "But we now move to save a goddess that belongs to the people the Imperium has long regarded as an enemy, despite lord Guilliman's decree. Our next operation will not be for the benefit of the Imperium of Man, but of the Aeldari. Many will deem this action to be treasonous, blasphemous, heretical, but all of you know what will happen if the Dark Gods kill Isha, and I for one will not sit idly by when I can do something about it." All eyes were honed unblinking on the Thai commissar now, hard and stern, absorbing every word spoken. "So I now call for a vote. By shows of hand, who agree with this course of action?"

The hands went up. All of them.

Holy fucking shit, Tangmo kinda knew they were gonna win the vote, but naturally had reservation given how fickle people can be. He even had a speech prepared if thing goes south. But a landside with no opposition?! Good God!

"Holy crap," Damien's mouth hug opened in shock, earning a few snickers as he turned to Gallus and Antalok, both the Astartes fists was raised. "Thank you."

"A surprise to be sure, but a welcome one," Henry smirked, and Tangmo let him off the hook for quoting Star Wars because he was that damn relieved and happy.

"Damn fucking right this went better than expected," Tangmo barked a laugh and glanced at Damien. "Yo, is everyone's hand up?"

"Oh yeah," Damien beamed brightly.

"Even the Sororitas?" Tangmo strode over to the armored nuns, meeting the women's combined annoyance with a grin, and yes the canonesses and the Celestians had their hands raised, even Bellona, Morelia, Lithia, Naledi and Victrix voted yes. "Damn, I didn't expect the hardliners to agree with me."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Morelia shrugged easily, a small but very smug smile tugging the corner of her lips. "I'm sure you are aware of this axiom, yes?"

"Of course my dear canoness, a well-mannered and learned gentleman such as myself will always know of such wisdom," Tangmo flashed his best shit eating grin, which grew even wider when the hardline canonesses groaned and rolled their eyes. "And are you sure there's no other reason? As in, you're just being a nice and kind person?"

"They will never admit that in public, lord commissar," Crestienne smirked and the Sororitas, even the diehards, shared a low but hearty laugh, a mirthful display that really put Tangmo at ease. The laughter was dying down when Lita strode up to the nuns, coming to a stop in front of Galatea, the de facto leader of the Sororitas. Hilarity ceased as the canonesses and Celestians set their unfriendly gazes on Lita, who met the antagonism with calm regality one finds in queens and princesses.

"You will help us?" Lita asked, polite and perfunctory, "truly?"

"The vote has been cast and our decision is made, lady Warseer," Galatea said sternly. "In the name of the God Emperor, we shall see to the destruction of the Chaos army led by our traitorous kinswomen, and in doing so make safe your goddess Isha."

Lita didn't say anything, and for the minute that followed she just stared at Galatea, causing the Martyred Lady canoness and her cohort to tense visibly. Then, without warning, Lita leapt at Galatea, wrapping the Sororitas up in a crushing hug as another burst of tears flowed down her cheeks.

"Thank you! Oh, thank you!" Lita half sobbed half squealed in delight, vigorously shaking the flabbergasted Galatea who could do nothing but stared wide eyed at the Mexican Warseer. When the canoness glanced at her peers for help, they were either speechless with shock or laughing loudly, being of no help to their sister in arms.

"Well…umm, yes, you are very welcome lady Warseer," Galatea spluttered, giving Lita light taps on the back, then noticed with alarm that Tangmo was pointing his data-pad at her. "Don't you dare take a picture!"

"Too late," Tangmo took several pictures before stuffing the data-pad back into his awesome commissar coat. "Another memory saved in perpetuity."

"And once again, we have more armored ladies joining our illustrious battlegroup," Henry took his place beside Tangmo and waved hurriedly at the Mexican Warseer. "Lita let her go! She's getting angry!"

"Ah! Sorry!" Lita leapt back from Galatea to the tent raucous laughter, the humans and eldars in better mood now, bowing profusely at the Martyred Lady canoness who dusted off her power armor with slow, aristocratic strokes. "I'm sorry lady canoness. I was just…a bit overexcited."

"All is well lady Warseer, no harm done."

"To answer your question, general Henry, yes, the Eternal Legion have pledge their service to the Immortal Spirit battlegroup," Victrix announced, head held high, galea helm cradled under her arm, looking every bit like a Roman legate, the crowd clapping and cheering as she turned to the grinning Naledi. "I believe you are coming as well?"

"We are. Despite the very…unorthodox state of this army, I found the battlegroup to be virtuous in heart and clean in conscience when it comes to the service and defense of humanity, a virtue most valued by the God Emperor. I would be honored to fight alongside the brave men and women of the Immortal Spirit. And they are very pleasant company to boot," ibhubesi Naledi smiled prettily, which was strangely directed at a winking elskerinne Eldul, causing Astrid and a Golden Pride ingonyama to shake their head with a groan.

"That's great to hear," Henry nodded then shifted his attention to the gloomy looking Zhensu and Myorin, both canonesses were standing close to each other, hands entwined. Their Celestians, Hitomi and Meifeng, were equally despondent. "Gaoseng? Koso? Is everything alright? Has something happen?"

"We will be coming with you," Myorin said simply.

"Forgive us for sounding so miserable lord general," Zhensu went on, her voice laced with iron. "Me, Myorin and two thousands Celestial Serenity will indeed be going with you, but the circumstance of our departure from Yomi is not something we can easily come to terms with…"

"They're leaving using the same excuse I did back on Frystasvard."

Everyone turned to Eldul. Zhensu and Myorin's startlement at the elskerinne's crass interruption swiftly morphed into affront.

"Excuse me?!" Myorin blistered, glaring at a bored looking Eldul.

"The two of you felt responsible for allowing Yomi to be attack and defile by the Forces of Chaos, a failing of the sacred duty ordained by the Allfather," Eldul said easily, totally unperturbed by the very pissed off Zhensu and Myorin, the Kung Fu and samurai nun looked about ready to give the Viking nun a double team beatdown. "Therefore, to atone for this grievous failure, you two now relinquish your leadership of Yomi, passing the mantle to worthy successors, and now join the Immortal Spirit battlegroup as a penance of some sort. Did I miss anything?"

"I admit to being pleasantly surprise, elskerinne," Zhensu smiled venomously, wicked thorns peeking clear through her civility. "I never thought you to be capable of such sterling deduction. The galaxy holds many surprises it seems."

"You won't be the last to underestimate me," Eldul grinned wolfishly, the insult unable to elicit a fiery response from her, much to Zhensu ill hidden disappointment. "But that is the reason you are leaving Yomi and coming with us, yes?"

"What do you want, a medal?!" Myorin snapped.

"That would be nice, but your confirmation is good enough," Eldul's sweet pleasantry was extremely grating to behold. "Oh, don't be so sour, I guarantee you'll be enjoying yourself in no time." The elskerinne's grin turned luscious then, the gaoseng and koso flinching back in revulsion. "And if you're especially nice to me, I can give you two a personal tour myself."

"Yeah, let's leave that for when y'all get back to ship, alright?" Henry interceded and Tangmo silently cursed the American, shit was about to get hot. Adjusting his awesome general coat, Henry turned to colonel Stanislav and major Volikova of the Vostroyan who, like the Thai commissar, was enjoying the Sororitas little catty spat. "Please tell me you're coming with us, because holy shit, after helping my armored column and repelling those Chaos eldar sons of bitches, you guys have more than earned your place amongst the battlegroup. Come on, the 101st Cadian and the Antari are already tagging along."

"Why, after such a generous compliment, it would be nothing short of impolite to decline your invitation, comrade general," Stanislav bellowed heartily, joyous and friendly, then snapped a sharp salute. "The Vostroyan First Born would be honored to join the Immortal Spirit battlegroup."

"We also have the best vodka in the galaxy!" Nikki added brightly.

"Now that is a deal breaker," Volikova's laughter was swiftly joined by those in the tents, humans and eldars alike.

"At least something good came out of this," Tangmo didn't like being a buzzkill, but shit, this was no occasion to celebrate. "We lost, ladies and gentlemen, Syrathel managed to pull a victory over us. This is like fucking Rocky II, she's Rocky Balboa and we're Apollo Creed, the bitch managed to fuck us in the last round. But you know what? I'm actually glad that Syrathel beat us this time."

Tangmo waited until the confused, and quite unhappy, mumbles simmered down to silence, let it stretched on for a few seconds, before continuing.

"We needed this reminder," Tangmo adopted the volume and octave of an epic wrestling promo. "Because no matter how great we are, no matter how blessed, we can still lose if we allow the glories and triumphs to go to our heads. So Syrathel won, good on the bitch, but I'm not gonna throw a fit, or blame other people, or fucking mope, no, I'm getting fucking angry, I'm getting focus, and now I'm more driven than ever before. Let that fucking bitch enjoy this moment, because come the next fight we're going to curb stomp her army. The Immortal Spirit had been bloodied but this will only make us stronger, faster and meaner! The Dark Gods themselves will learn that even in defeat we are unconquerable, and the price of victory is something they can never afford!"

Welp, he just cut one of his best promo to date, if the deafening cheer was anything to go by, fists and cornas thrust high in the air, shaking with unbound enthusiasm. The Eight joined Tangmo then, helping him hyped up the crowd, stroking the main characters' spirits to a blazing frenzy.

"That's what I'm talking about, you beautiful bastards!" Tangmo laughed when everybody calmed down. "And here I thought all of you were gonna be prissy and emo after losing, glad to see everyone's still itching for a fight."

"And it better be soon," Bellona grinned toothily, "because I look forward to translating this passion into something more physical."

"You'll get your chance," Tangmo winked at Bellona, who scoffed good-naturedly at his attempt to be charming. "Right now, I want all of you to keep this fire going. Because when we face them again, we are gonna repay this defeat a thousand fold. The Dark Gods are gonna shit themselves after we're done with them. For the moment, rest, recuperate and prepare, we'll be ready next time."

The main characters nodded with gusto, pleased with the rousing words, and started filing out of the tent, humans and eldars chatting amiably, the Imperial cheering the mopey Aeldari with promises of entertainment and boozes.

"Fanduin, hold up dude," Tangmo and the Eight stopped the Solace Sun warlock before he can leave the tent. The eldar waved his friends to go on ahead and turned to meet them.

"What can I do for you?" Fanduin bowed respectfully.

"Are you familiar with the Vhilytra system, warlock Fanduin?" Lita brokered the question.

"I have spent the first two thousand years of my life inside the Vhilytra system," Fanduin said. "It is where I perfected my mastery of the warlock path and pledge my life to the pursue of freeing Isha from Nurgle. That objective has since been altered to the preservation and defense of Isha herself."

"Safe to say you know the system like your own backyard, correct?" Laura now asked.

"Indeed lady inquisitor," Fanduin said.

"I need you and your Solace Sun friends to draw a complete, comprehensive intels on the Vhilytra system," Damien went straight to the point. "Map, planets composition, miscellaneous celestial bodies, the sun, travel routes, the size of the defenses, everything. The battlegroup will more than likely be heading straight into a warzone, since Syrathel got a head start, we need to be able to swiftly consolidate every advantage we can the moment we come out of the Warp."

"I'll get right on it, Brother Sergeant," Fanduin nodded sharply and strode with purpose toward his waiting companions, already giving out orders, leaving the Eight alone in the now empty tent.

"So…what are we gonna do about that?" Yuki stabbed her thumb at the slush that used to be Fandor, the muck flowing down the chair and clothes to drip lethargically on the floor. "I mean, could he suddenly morph into a fucking daemon or something…?"

"Blimey, I actually forgot about the tosser," Laura stuck her tongue out in a goofy expression then tapped her earbud. "Oi Galatea, the Chaos eldar corpse is still in here, can you get some of the Battle Sisters and nuns and priestesses and Fire Dragons in here and cremate it please, just to be sure."

"Right away, lady inquisitor," Galatea responded promptly and Tangmo and Henry had to stifle a laugh, because for a moment there she sounded almost like a fem Clone Trooper.

"Goddamn it, we lost!" Damien bellowed as they stepped outside, drawing startled looks from some of the main characters who were still loitering about. "And why did it had to be Syrathel man?! Fuck, I hate that bitch, seriously."

"Still mad she made you pissed and shit yourself?" Nikki smirked and the Eight laughed, Damien included.

"Of course I'm still mad, wouldn't you?" Damien shrugged with a grin.

"Oh yeah, I feel your pain my dude," Tangmo nodded understandingly. "I wanna kill that bitch too."

"You're the one to talk, you and Syrathel are absolutely tsundere for each other," Lita cracked a smile. "I saw how you two…wrestled before I showed up."

"Are you jealous or nostalgic?" Tangmo was extremely pleased when the Eight laughed louder than when Lita made her smartass quip, prompting the Warseer to huff petulantly. "I'll take that as a yes on both counts."

"Brutal," Erik chuckled then let out a sigh, a pleased one. "This is nice."

"What do you mean?" Henry asked.

"All of us talking, joking and laughing with each other," Erik went on and the Eight nodded in agreement, given their various jobs and duties, it was very rare indeed that all of them were together in the same place at the same time.

"Yeah, you're absolutely right," Henry looked at them with a soft, disarming smile. "How about we all have a nice dinner and drink when we get back to the Immortal Spirit, just the eight of us, to reminiscent and talk about the good old days."

"Holy shit dude, we're not that old," Damien said, very pleased with the idea. "But yeah, that sounds great. Who's place?"

"Who makes the best food again?" Nikki asked.

"I do," Tangmo, Yuki and Lita declared at the same time, heralding a Mexican standoff as the trio glared at each other.

"You what mate?" Yuki titled her head to side, already looking deranged.

"Now, now Yuki, no need to be hostile, I was simply stating fact," Lita was poisonously perky, enjoying Yuki's rising agitation as she skipped alongside her. "Japanese food is great and all, but when it comes to flare, flavor and culinary complexity, it is sadly second fiddle when compares to the greatness that is Mexican cuisine."

"Lita, everything you just said is scientifically wrong," Yuki pleasantry was barbed as she draped her arm across Lita's shoulders, canine flashing. "Mexican cuisine is a nice party food, but it's simply not fine dining like Japanese food. And I think we all deserve the best, don't you think?"

"…Tell me, you didn't just say that," Lita narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"I just did," Yuki gave the unamused Lita a boop on the nose with a flick of her finger.

"Children, please, there's no need for such pointless argument," Tangmo waited until Yuki and Lita were glaring at him before throwing the haymaker. "Everybody knows Thai food fucking slaughter everything else, now that's the gospel truth."

"Actually…I haven't had any good Thai food in a while," Laura flinched when Yuki rounded on her with a murderous look. "Sorry!"

"Yeah, I'm in the mood for something spicy too," Damien spoke up to agreeing nods from Henry, Erik and Nikki.

"And Mexican food isn't?!" Lita cried indignantly.

"Well, yeah, but I want Thai spicy, you know?" Damien shrugged.

"Welp, that settles it, I'm the chef for the night," Tangmo threw his arms companionably around the growling Yuki and Lita, hugging them with exaggerated fierceness until the two were chuckling. "Besides, all of you deserve to eat something nice." The amiability disappeared from Tangmo's face, replaced by a grim resignation. "Because we won't be having it again until we kick Syrathel's ass and save Isha, and something tells me the next fight is gonna be big."