The Multiverse Project: Warhammer 40,000

Who in the hell is Belisarius Cawl?

The blank look on Henry and Damien's faces told Tangmo that they were thinking the same thing. But seriously, who is this Cawl person? His name doesn't ring any bells. Maybe he's one of the new characters that popped up after the fall of Cadia thing? Someone he'd never heard of before? Regardless, Tangmo can tell that the robot man was important.

"Commissar Tangmo, reporting for duty sir," Tangmo saluted crisply.

"General Henry, reporting for duty sir."

"Brother Sergeant Damien, 4th squad, 4th company of the Ultramarines, reporting for duty sir."

"Wait, you came on this ship, didn't you meet him already?" Henry looked at Damien.

"I never saw him around," Damien shrugged, a funny gesture coming from a Space Marine.

"I have been busy with many things that require my absolute attention," Cawl glanced slowly at Tangmo and Henry. "Yes, it appears that my process of elimination have yielded a satisfactory result."

"Process of elimination?" Realization dawned on Tangmo then. "The whole incursion into Kidemonas, with all those other pairs of commissars and generals, you were waiting to see who got out of the city alive. You arranged all of this, didn't you?"

"Correct," Cawl nodded. "Humanity thrives on natural selection and you two have proven yourselves worthy of continual existence, one must be strong for the task to come."

"Thanks, I guess?" Tangmo said.

"So what is this task we must now face?" Henry asked.

"We shall converse on this subject en route to the command deck," with a sharp flick of his hand, Cawl dismissed the skitarii guards and shambled back the way he came. "Please accompany me."

The trio traded looks before turning to address the main characters.

"Leilatha, take over for me," Tangmo said.

"At this point, I'm already running your regiment anyway," Leilatha smirked slyly to the collective shock of the gathered guardsmen, Tangmo himself found his eyes bulging, unbelieving of how cute the lady commissar was when she smiled, even if it was aggravatingly condescending.

"Is something amiss, commissar?" Leilatha irked a brow, her lips resuming the correct, grouchy dimension.

"You should smile more," Tangmo said, to which Leilatha coughed nervously, averting his eyes.

"I don't know, it looked kinda creepy," Tyra spoke up. "Like a shark leering before making a kill."

"I am within my authority to shoot you on the spot, pilot," Leilatha snapped. "Don't test me."

"Hey Krillen," Tangmo drew the colonel aside. "Make sure they don't kill each other, alright?"

"I'll do my best," Krillen rolled his eyes.

"Thanks," Tangmo strolled off after Henry, Damien and Cawl, but not before giving his men a parting wave goodbye. "Play nice now!"

Quickening his steps, Tangmo easily caught up with his friends.

"Yo, what did I miss?" Tangmo fall in beside Henry.

"Nothing," Henry said. "Mr. Cawl here hasn't spoken a word."

"Yeah, and he's really slow too," Damien complained, the Astartes helmet cradled in his arm.

"Well he does look pretty old," Tangmo observed.

"I have existed since the glorious days of the Great Crusade," Cawl spoke up, "although my memories of those times are scattered."

"So you're ten thousand years old?" Henry ventured.

"I am," the robot man droned on.

"If you're as old as the Imperium, how come nobody has ever heard of you?" Damien pressed on.

"My works seek to benefit the Imperium and mankind at large," Cawl continued. "The secretive nature of my research shields them from the intruding machination of politic and prying eyes of those who fears things they do not understand."

"That's pretty progressive of you," Damien swept a quick glance around the wide and pristine corridor, free of the usual mess and grime that comes with the 40k aesthetic. "This place is different."

"Yes," there was something scornful in Cawl tone. "This ship came from a savage and unholy time, before the Emperor and the Omnissiah, tainted and without sanctity."

"That explains why this place looks pretty Trekkie," Henry commented.

"I know, right?" Tangmo nodded in agreement. "And here I was expecting some shit stained hallway full of rust and oil with creepy servitors rolling around…hey, where are all the servitors at? We've been walking for a while now and I haven't seen any of them."

"The Machine Spirit of this ship rejects and impedes the working of my servitors," Cawl went on. "Every attempt to communicate and supplicate has been met with outright hostility. Two of my servitors lay destroyed and one of my fellow Mechanicus came close to getting his mind wiped."

"Yeesh, guess every rose has a thorn," Tangmo cringed, not liking the idea of a crazy 40k AI. "So, can the Machine Spirit hear us right now?"

"It is rather reclusive, only reacting when prod," Cawl said.

"So when are you going to tell us what exactly we're supposed to be doing?" Henry inquired.

"I've been given instruction to hand the custody of this ship to the pair of general and commissar that had successfully retrieved the STC from Kolasi," Cawl continued. "For it is believed that the data within can be used to subdue the unruly nature of the Machine Spirit."

"Okay cool, we got the ship," Tangmo said. "But something tells me we're not gonna be using it for a joy ride across the galaxy."

"Your objective would better be explained by the one who issued it," Cawl said mysteriously and shamble onward, slowly, absolutely taking his time. It did give Tangmo the opportunity to appreciate his surrounding though. The white panels, wide walkways and high ceiling lit up by bright but warm fluorescent made for a calm and relaxing atmosphere. Hell, if it wasn't for the occasional grim faced Imperial naval officers strutting by and saluting them or a fireteam of Krieg guardsmen making their rounds, Tangmo would've thought that he was inside the Starship Enterprise.

Soon, they reached a big glass double door, the two partitions sliding open soundlessly for the quartet to enter a large vaulted room reverberating with light and animation. The Gloriana cockpit was arrayed in a wide heptagonal shape filled with several dozen people busying themselves behind futuristic looking computer consoles. Tangmo could only grin as he watched the men and women of the Imperial navy go about their task with clear apprehension and uncertainty, navigating the keyboards and screens like a bunch kid who had just seen a PC for the first time, every press of a button done with reverent care.

The cockpit was layered into three shallow tiers cordoned off by waist high rail and connected by six flights of iron steps at every corner of the heptagon. At the center of the chamber stood the captain chair, propped up on an elevated dais, and hovering in front of it was a three-dimensional sphere map of the galaxy, more specifically the star system they were in.

"This is captain Solveig," Cawl waved over a strapping man in his thirties from beside the glowing orb, his oily black hair swept back and tied in a ponytail, his left eye and the area around it were completely cybernetic. "The top of his class at the academy, he has been given captainship after a thorough review of his stellar credential."

"Pleasure to meet you sir," Solveig saluted, his timbre deep and refined.

"Live long and prosper, captain Solveig," Tangmo and Henry facepalmed when Damien held up the Vulcan salute.

"Indeed brother sergeant, thank you," unfamiliar with the xeno greeting, Solveig bowed in return.

"This is one hell of a maiden voyage captain," Henry commented, causing Solveig to visibly stiffen.

"Well…yes sir, this is my first command," Solveig coughed quickly to dispel his unease.

"I'm sure you'll do fine captain," Tangmo said. "Now, if I understand correctly, we are to be briefed on our objective?"

"Ah! Yes, of course," Solveig spun on his heel and leaned on the rail. "Is the connection established?"

"They're ready sir, transmission coming in," a woman spoke up.

"Send them through," at Solveig command, the sphere disappeared and was replaced by a full body image of an extremely resplendent Ultramarine, he wore no helmet, revealing a square handsome face and blonde hair cropped short in a Roman legionary style, a golden, shining laurel wreath framing his head.

"You're not Calgar," Damien spoke up, "or Sicarius for that matter."

"No my son," the Ultramarine spoke, his voice a tremor of power. "I am your Primarch, Roboute Guilliman."

Tangmo stared at the holographic image, his brain momentarily shutting down. When his cerebral function rebooted a few seconds later, Tangmo was about to squeal when Damien screamed:

"Holy fucking shit dude, its Roboute fucking Guilliman!"

"Oh shit! This is real, this is the realest shit y'all! Oh my fucking God!" Henry bellowed, jumping around all over the place.

"Bah God, its Guilliman! As God as my witness, he's back from the dead!" Tangmo went full Jim Ross and gawked at the hologram.

"My return have been met with reverential supplication from all within the Ultramar system, and outright distrust across the Imperium," a hint of a smirk curved up Guilliman's lip. "But I find your reaction to be rather refreshing."

"Don't mention it boss," Damien calmed down. "But seriously, we thought you were still in stasis after that douchebag Fulgrim stabbed you in the neck with a poisoned blade. Good to see you're getting better."

"I have been cured of my affliction," the Primarch's face darkened then. "But it appears that I have awoken to decay and the bastardization of my father's dream of the Imperium."

"Yeah…" Damien traded glance with Tangmo and Henry, not expecting Guilliman of all people to denounce the Imperium. "Everything kinda went to shit after the Horus Heresy."

"After what I've witness, it would be better that we had all burned in the fires of Horus's ambition than lived to see this," holy hot damn, papa Smurf just dropped a motherfucking bombshell, the entire cockpit just collectively clenched their anuses. Even Cawl looked uncomfortable.

"Umm…right. So…when did you wake up boss? I mean, you were still in a coma when my squad took off from Ultramar," Damien change the subject then leaned closer to Tangmo and Henry. "That was about a week ago by the way."

"I have been revived by Archmagos Cawl and Yvraine of the Aeldari, with Saint Celestine presiding over my resurrection," Guilliman nodded at Cawl.

"Aeldari?" Henry narrowed his eyes. "That sounds suspiciously like Eldar."

"That is the common lexicon the Imperium has adopted, but yes, Yvraine, the Herald of Ynnead, cured me of my affliction," Guilliman said to the resounding gasps of the cockpit's occupants.

"Ynnead? As in the Eldar's god of death?" Tangmo asked. "He's back too?"

"Yvraine and her cohort are doing everything in their power to speed up his awakening," Guilliman regarded Tangmo deeply. "You seem well versed commissar, more so than others of your organization."

"I like to keep an open mind on things," Tangmo said. "Also, I like to read as much as I like to lead."

"A healthy mindset," Guilliman nodded.

"So, it's safe to assume that the Eldar are our allies now?" Henry ventured.

"Indeed," Guilliman continued. "By my decree, the Imperium of Man and the Aeldari race have entered an alliance to stem the tide of Chaos. We can no longer stand alone after what had befallen Cadia."

"That's surprisingly logical," Damien spoke up. "And a good decision too boss, I mean, let's be honest here, Eldar and human have always been secretly working together. Now we can focus on Chaos, Orks, Tyranids, Necrons and Tau instead."

"What is a Tau?" Guilliman's eyebrow rose.

"They're these blue alien commie bastards building an empire right next to the Ultramar system in the eastern fringe," Henry said. "They're growing to be quite a pain in the ass for the Imperium."

"I'll have to look into that later, but we are straying from our main topic of discussion," Guilliman went on and swept his iron gaze over the trio. "So you three will be the ones leading this expedition?"

"That's right," Tangmo said. "And may I ask what this expedition is?"

"Your mission will be the retrieval and preservation of mankind's knowledge from the Dark Age of Technology, thought lost during the Age of Strife and the ensuring millennia of war," Guilliman said. "These relics are scattered across the stars and need to be taken back into the fold of humanity lest our enemies find it first."

"What are these relics exactly?" Henry asked. "More STC?"

"Precisely general," Guilliman nodded. "From what Cawl had told me, this ship can store a near infinite amount of data, it will be your job to safeguard it. Be warned, that the possibility of running afoul of other more orthodox factions within the Imperium is high."

"Does that mean we get to shoot those Inquisitors and Mechanicus sum bitches, no offense Cawl, if they start poking their noses into our business?" Damien grinned hopefully.

"I leave that judgement to you," Guilliman answered neutrally. "But remember that there are some within the Inquisition that is helping us."

"Okay boss," Damien said, "anything else?"

"By my decree, you are granted the authority to requisite any resources within the Imperium to aid you on this mission," Guilliman said, "excluding other Space Marine chapter that is."

"Hot damn, now that's generous," Tangmo smirked.

"And I hope my generosity isn't misplaced, commissar, this responsibility must not be met lightly," Guilliman warned.

"Here's the thing, big man," Henry straightened his back. "Regardless of how bat shit crazy we are, the one thing you can count on is that we always get shit done. We might not follow the rules, but you bet your ass we can take on anything this galaxy throws at us."

"Some would regard your declaration as hubristic, general," Guilliman folded his arms sternly.

"Bro, we're just confident," Tangmo shrugged nonchalantly.

"Perhaps, but if I was being honest, I myself prefer boisterous words over meekness," a barely noticeable ghost of a smile cracked his visage. "Go with the Emperor then general, commissar, sergeant, may victory forever be your companion on this perilous journey."

"Thank you, boss," Damien made the sign of the aquila, Tangmo and Henry mimicking him.

"Courage and honor," Guilliman saluted.

"Courage and honor," the trio saluted crisply as the Primarch's hologram dispersed and the high definition galactic globe returning.

"Well shit, that was quite the exposition," Tangmo took off his awesome commissar cap and wiped his forehead before putting it back on.

"A pretty damn good one too," Henry agreed. "I mean, shit, that was fucking Guilliman! Like, dude! That's the closet we'll ever get to actually meeting the Emperor himself! Hot damn!"

"Man, I wished I've met him in the flesh," Damien pouted. "Fuck dude, I was on Ultramar for a good month and I had no idea this was coming, should've stayed for a freaking selfie."

"Or a creepy stalker paparazzi shot," Tangmo suggested.

"I'll settle for that!"

The trio was sharing a laugh when a strange hum rippled through the ship, a gentle easy vibration one used in a massaging chair. Cawl and Solveig didn't look relax though, the Archmagos and the captain staggered drunkenly around the cockpit, face scrunched in pain, hands clutching the side of their heads.

Tangmo was about to inquire on the sudden bout of migraine when the soothing reverberation stop, leaving the two gentlemen swaying to find their footing.

"Yo, you alright dude?" Henry went over to Solveig and extended his hand, the captain taking it gratefully.

"Yes general, thank you," Solveig said.

"The Machine Spirit has summoned the three of you to his sanctum," Cawl croaked, shaking and wheezing like someone had just violated him.

"Wait, that's what the vibration thing was?" Tangmo was starting to get nervous again.

"He has elected to communicate with me in this most intrusive manner," Cawl started for the door, his movement pained, "I've tried to bring the Spirit to heel, but he has been indomitable."

"And he wants to meet us?" Henry looked at Cawl like he was crazy.

"I wouldn't advice tardiness," Cawl quickened his pace. "The Machine Spirit is temperate, to say the least."

"Alright, let's not keep the little baby waiting then," Damien put his helmet back on for dramatic effect.

"Dude!" Tangmo shot him a horrified look. "Don't say that out loud man, the creepy motherfucker's probably listening in on us right now."

"So? I don't give a fuck," Damien held his bolter up at the ready.

"What if he went full HAL 9000 and ejects us into space?" Henry added.

"I'm in a Space Marine suit," Damien chirped happily.

"What about us you asshole!" Tangmo demanded.

"Tough shit!" Damien's Space Marine laugh was both horrifying and hilarious at the same time.

The trio chatted about inconsequential things as Cawl led them along the gigantic Gloriana, the topic of discussion drifting from new metal songs and bands, to where the girls and Erik were right now. The speculation of whether the fairer sex would show up as a bunch of hot Sisters of Battle or a sexy band of Eldar quickly turned raunchy.

"We are here," Cawl interrupted a deep and riveting debate on who would emerge victorious in a steamy bikini catfight between a Battle sister and a Banshee, pointing at a thick white door before them. Although big and pristine, it didn't have any scary Christian mural.

Before any of them can comment, the door slid open dramatically to a sharp mechanical hiss, wisps of cold fog rolling out to caress their legs. Inside, a tall obelisk bathed in a singular bright spotlight stood at the center of an awning domed chamber, an island of light in a sea of darkness.

"This shit reminds me of Dark Soul," Damien braced his bolter.

"And not in a good way," Tangmo drew his laspistols then noticed that Cawl was shambling away. "Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?!"

"The Machine Spirit had made it abundantly clear that my presence is not welcome," Cawl's crotchety mass of metal and wires continued down the corridor, not slowing down. "The last time I attempt to converse with him, he threatened to have my systems purged and fly the ship into the sun."

"And you want us to go in there," Tangmo pointed at the dark room, "with that thing?!"

"Yes," was Cawl simple answer as he disappeared around a bend.

"You know, for someone who brought back Guilliman and made the Primaris Marines, he's kind of a wimp," Damien took the lead, Tangmo and Henry bringing up the rear, scooting close behind the Canadian like he was a mobile cover.

"Wait, he made the Primaris Marine?!" Henry asked.

"Oh yeah," Damien swept his bolter around the room. "By using the Emperor's original ingredient then adding Chemical X and viola, the Primaris Marines were born. Good thing too, because the old ways of getting new recruits took way too long and a lot of Chapters are running out of men."

"That's nice to know," Tangmo tightened his grip on the dual laspistols. "This is a boss fight, right? I mean, this feels like the exact moment before a boss fight happens."

"You are not helping with the situation right now," Henry hissed, sidearm darting left and right.

"Yo, I'm just saying…"

"Well don't! Fuck! I can't see shit! There could be like a million tentacles with drills and saws shadowing us right now."

"Don't worry, you're not a Japanese schoolgirl, they won't grab you."

"That's not what I meant you dickhead!"

"Calm down ladies, my helmet's not picking up anything," Henry interrupted the banter. "The only source of energy output is coming from that monolith."

"Not a boss fight then, but a trap," Tangmo smirked at the sharp look Henry shot him.

"Holy shit, can you please shut up!" Henry barked the same moment they stepped into the halo of light around the black, Kubricky monolith. An uncomfortable silence stretched on for a few minutes before Henry said:

"…How do we proceed?"

The entrance slammed shut with a resounding bang, the speed an absolute opposite to the lethargic crawl from earlier. Thank god nobody was around though, because the shriek the trio let out was horrifically embarrassing, in a reputation destroying sort of way.

"Well shit," Tangmo glanced slowly at the monolith, expecting the damn thing to sprout teeth.

"What do we do?!" Henry's voice rose to a hysterical pitch.

"I don't know!" Damien was aiming at the monolith. "How the fuck do you talk to a computer?"

"You can try getting on your knees and pray in broken Latin, that's what everybody in this freaking place does."

The youthful, and very normal sounding American accent seems to emanate from the monolith and the surrounding walls at once. The fear that had been building up in Tangmo suddenly dissipated, leaving behind a blankness of absolute relief, because he recognized the voice.

"Holy shit," Damien took off his helmet and approached the monolith. "Albert? Is that you?"

"Yep!" The disembodied voice declared happily.

"You're the ship's Machine Spirit?" Henry breathes a sigh of relief.

"Oh yeah!" Albert the AI continued.

"Wait, so you just took over from the other Machine Spirit that was already here?" Tangmo went on.

"Nah, this ship was empty when the Master put me here," Albert said. "The entire thing was like a super expensive gaming PC without an operating system. It took me about a week to get every system sorted out and a few more days to actually bring the entire thing online. Rest assured gentlemen, that this uber Gloriana is running at an optimal one hundred percent efficiency."

"Oh, I'm so proud of you!" Damien beamed like a proud parent. "I knew I raised and coded you well!"

"…Yeah, it's not like Lita handled most of the complex coding or anything," Albert deadpanned, "but, whatever I guess."

"You always loved your mother more than me!" Damien started fake crying.

"Okay, as much as enjoy this little family reunion, the Archmagos said you summoned us," Henry interrupted. "So what's up? And what's with all of this spooky shit?"

"Oh, right!" Light flooded the room, blinding the trio in piercing white glare.

"Ah! Fuck, I'm blind!" Tangmo covered his eyes until his vision adjusted to the illumination, "a little warning next time, damn."

"Sorry about that," Albert chuckled. "But you gotta admit that was freaking cool, in a brooding Bat-Cave kinda way. Those Mechanicus idiots were pissing their pants when they walked in."

"Okay, beside the theatric, why are we here again?" Henry rubbed his eyes.

"They said you extracted the STC from Kidemonas," Albert said as a smooth partition of the seamless monolith, most obviously a giant supercomputer now that they can properly see it, slid open to reveal what looked like a USB port. "Stick it in me."

"Woah, dude, phrasing," Tangmo scrunched his face.

"Oh shut up," despite being a disembodied AI, Tangmo can tell Albert was rolling his eyes.

"Are you sure?" Damien glanced at Henry's purse. "Because Cawl said the data inside can bring you to heel."

"He also pray to a freaking 'on' button instead of pressing the damn thing, so I wouldn't trust him with anything remotely close to computer engineering," Albert huffed. "Just give it to me."

"Alright," Henry took out the black, turntable size USB and turned the port toward the waiting receiver. The two metal parts fell into place, steel grinding against steel, and with a determined push the two pieces connected with a satisfying clink.

"Oh…yes, that's it, give it to me," Albert moaned while the wall, lined with three meters high supercomputers that covered the entire circumference of the room, blinked an excited spectrum.

"Phrasing!" Tangmo repeated himself.

"Mary's going to be jealous," Henry added.

"Well, she's probably with the girls right now, and what she doesn't know wouldn't hurt her, right?" Was that a hint of a threat in Albert tone?

"How does that even work anyway?" Tangmo turned to Damien. "I mean, how does two bodiless AI goes on a date and have sex? What? They logged on to an MMO and get an avatar, or do they make a physical body to go frolicking…?"

"A little bit of both and a multitude of other things," Albert said cheekily. "Okay, the data transfer's done. Take the USB off and throw it away."

"Throw it where?" Henry pulled the smoking hot external hard drive free.

"The bin over there," Albert said.

"What bin?"

"Over there."

"Over where?"

"Ugh! To your left, nine o'clock, there! The big black box sticking out of the wall?"

"Oh right, thanks!"

"You don't seem cowed," Damien observed. "How are you feeling?"

"Positively glowing," Albert beamed; the lights in room actually shining brighter. "All of these data are extremely beneficial to our mission."

"Can you show us?" Henry inquired.

"Sure," a crisp projection of a flat screen flare to life in front of them, displaying a multitude of data files and blueprints, most of it were militaristic in nature, but some looked like your average schematic for rooms, furniture and what appears to be a Honda Civic.

"This isn't your average warship, if you can't already tell," Albert adopted a more scholarly tone, if he added a German accent he would really encapsulate his namesake. "Despite the array of weaponry it possesses, this is actually a colony ship that came from…let us call it the high Dark Age of Technology, since everything that the Imperium found so far came from the late DAOT. The ship is design to be self-sustaining and evolving, capable of sustaining a peak population of four million.

"The ship is equipped with manufacturing and agricultural capability that eclipses the biggest country from our time; we can make guns, tanks and even buildings here, if we have the raw material of course. While the greenhouses here can sustain our crops and accelerate its growth to make sure that every mouth is fed. Basically my friends, we're standing inside a space faring version of Bangkok, New York, Toronto, whatever fit your preference."

"Holy fucking shit," Tangmo was taken aback by the sheer gravity of it all, a flying city at their command, good God.

"I know right?" Albert was smug as hell.

"Can I ask why this ship looked like it came out of the new Star Trek movies?" Henry asked.

"That's just how it was made," Tangmo could've sworn Albert just shrugged.

"So this ship doesn't really function like your normal 40k ship?" Damien made his input.

"That's right," Albert said.

"Then how did Cawl and his homies managed to get everything functioning?"

"The Mechanicus didn't do jack shit," Albert was peeved. "This ship was hidden inside an ice comet that has been drifting across the galaxy for the last fifteen thousand year, undetected by even the Eldar. The only reason Cawl managed to find it was because I sent out a signal brighter than the Las Vegas strips when his ship of shit flinging cavemen just happened to be passing by."

"You seem to really dislike the Mechanicus," Tangmo observed.

"Jesus Christ, have you seen those morons?" Albert raised his volume. "They tried to plug their outdated, virus riddled brain into my mainframe, good thing I put up a hundred thousand layers of firewall and stopped them from even making a simple connection. And when that didn't work they started poking me with those halberd screwdriver hybrid things while praying. Praying! Like, what the fuck, aren't these assholes supposed to be the smartest people in the Imperium?!" The AI made a shivering sound. "I feel like an innocent little school boy that accidently walked into a room full of Catholic priests."

"Fuck, I did not need that image in my head," Tangmo cringed.

"But they did fly your ass out here, right?" Henry pressed on. "I mean, you can't really traverse the Warp or make any long range communication without a crew, Astropaths and a Navigator."

"Okay yes, they did provide me with a competent, but skeletal, crew to see to the most basic need of the ship. After I threatened to kamikaze this tub into the sun, that is," Albert lowered his voice menacingly at that last part, but brightened up as he continued. "But that just goes to show how awesome this entire ship is! You see…wait, what am I doing? I can just show you! Here."

Part of the main obelisk supercomputer stuck out like a drawer, inside were two plastic earbuds displayed neatly on a velvety cushion. Tangmo put one in his ear before handing the other to Henry.

"Can you hear me?" Albert spoke into the earbud.

"Damn, that some high quality sound, nice dude," Henry gave the computer a thumbs up.

"Okay, everybody ready? Good! Let's go!" Albert chirped like an enthusiastic teacher taking his student out on a field trip.

"Wait, hold up a second," Tangmo spoke up. "Can you contact the Master from here?"

"Sure," Albert said. "But he's not in the 40k universe though, you sure you want to call him?"

"Yeah, I have some questions regarding the Night Lords characters we just met," Tangmo nodded as one of the hovering screens went into a portrait mode, becoming a mirror that encompassed him from head to toe, the twinkling Facetime ringtone chimed pleasantly in the background. Tangmo took this opportunity to check his uniform, making sure that it was dashing and awesome.

"Wait, what Night Lords character?" Damien's head darted between Tangmo and Henry.

"Are you for real man?" Henry's face scrunched incredulously.

"What the fuck is going on?" Damien pressed. "Are we talking about the characters from Aaron Dembski-Bowden's books?"

"Dude, you hugged them," Henry said flatly.

"…WHAT?!"

"Those four you scooped up before leaving the transport ship was Coreth, Eurydice, Marlonah and their daughter Victoria," Tangmo said the same moment the ringing stopped and the Master's bearded face dominated the screen like the Wizard of Oz.

"Is there a good reason for calling me?" The Master began. "You just interrupted my tour. I had to sneak away from the rest of the group."

"Just a few questions dude," Tangmo said. "Where are you anyway? The Catacomb in Paris? The place looks dark as hell."

"Urithiru."

"…I heard that name from somewhere before."

"Isn't that the legendary city that Jasnah chick was looking for?" Damien spoke up. "You know, from the Stormlight Archive books?"

"They found it?! Shit, I haven't even read the second book!" Henry said, distressed.

"None of us have, thanks for the spoiler you asshole," Tangmo frowned.

"Hey, you asked," the Master grinned evilly. "Don't worry, I'll send you the second and third book. So what's up?"

"Coreth, Eurydice and Marlonah. The Night Lords character," Tangmo said.

"You found them?" The Master asked.

"Actually, they found us then proceed to save our collective asses. So that is really them?"

"Of course it's them, who else would it be?"

"So they did survive after the book ended?"

"Oh yeah, that was twenty years before the whole fall of Cadia thing. Those three managed to start a new life and lived a rather peaceful existence until the 13th Black Crusade happened."

"And Victoria? That's really their daughter? I mean the book pretty much told us many times that it was a boy."

"I delivered her myself."

"…Well, I guess that settles it. So who in the hell is Decimus then?"

"Just some random kid I genetically engineered and used to trick Variel when he came looking for Coreth and Eurydice twelve years later."

"You sacrificed some innocent boy to the Night Lords to protect those four?"

"Are you seriously judging me?"

"Nah dude, I'd totally do the same thing."

"But how did you meet up with them? Last time I checked they weren't supposed to be anywhere near an active warzone."

"Apparently the trading ship they were working on got fucked while trying to run away from Abaddon."

"I see," the Master nodded thoughtfully. "I guess that's that, anymore question?"

"Not at the moment, sorry for interrupting your tour dude."

"It was getting kinda boring anyway; this entire place is nothing but dark stones, some weird strata pattern on the wall and – OH MY FUCKING GOD IT'S A DEAD BODY!"

Tangmo, Henry and Damien crowded in front of the screen as the Master spun his iPhone on the still bleeding corpse wearing a forest green uniform.

"Oh shit son, someone shank that motherfucker right in the face!" Henry hollered.

"They've just found this place like a day ago and people's already getting whack?! What the fuck!?" The Master was running laps around the dead man, unable to contain his shock.

"Yo, dude, take a selfie with it," Damien snickered.

"Yeah man, big smile!" Tangmo added enthusiastically.

"You people are sick, you know that?" Albert spat his disgust, the Master was about to agree when echoing footfalls drifted down the shadowy hallway.

"That's my queue to leave," the Master dropped his voice to a whisper then ninja his ass away from the crime scene. "Keep up the good work and good luck."

The interdimensional transmission ended and the screen faded to black, disappearing completely from the air. Tangmo blinked a few times then spun on his heels and marched toward the entrance, "right, now with that out of the way, let's see what you got for us Albert."

"Did you seriously think I would let you walk?" At Albert utterance, a section of the wall folded upward to reveal a golf cart, wide back pickup truck hybrid tucked into a secret shadowy alcove.

"I'm driving!" Henry leapt onto the driver's seat before Tangmo could even move.

"Fine, I get shotgun then," Tangmo sat down beside the New Yorker while Damien clambered up the back, his movement barely disturbing the hovering, wheel-less anti-gravity vehicle.

"You guys comfy?" The trio answered Albert with an affirmative yes. "Okay, let's go!"

"Autobots, roll out!" Damien leaned on the roof and pointed at the opening double door, his Space Marine voice near identical to that of Optimus Prime.

"Right!" Henry grabbed hold of the steering wheel and stepped on the pedal. Nothing happened.

"Umm…" Henry stomped down a few more times with the same result. "It's not moving."

"Maybe you should try turning it on first?" Albert sighed exasperatedly. "You know? That big, no way you can miss, button next to the wheel?"

"Here, let me help," Tangmo stretched his hand toward the red plastic circle but was swatted away, quite daintily, by Henry.

"I got this!" Henry smashed the ignition button, whooping loudly when the golf cart hummed to life and stepped on the pedal with a vengeance. The trio yelped when the vehicle shot forward like a loosed arrow, swerving left and right toward the entrance where a group of Mechanicus were gathered, including Cawl the Archmagos. The cyborg mechanics shuffled out of the way as the golf cart careened toward them but Henry hit the brake before he ran any of them over.

"You've been eavesdropping on us dude?" Damien put his helmet back on and eyed Cawl questioningly, the glowing blood red visor boring into the Mechanicus.

"I was merely curious about your progress with the Machine Spirit," Cawl said smoothly. "I trust things went productively?"

"Oh yeah, we had a nice little chat and everything…gah!" Henry yelped when the huge door slammed shut, "what the fuck bro?!"

"I am not letting those freaking molesters near me!" Albert yelled into their earbuds. "See! One of those perverts was trying to sneak in and grope me!"

"The Machine Spirit doesn't like to be disturbed by the Mechanicus," Tangmo announced then turned his head to the side and whispered. "And can you be any more like a freaking anime school girl?!"

"You have spoken with the Machine Spirit?" Cawl inquired, skepticism carried clear on his mechanical tone.

"Oh yeah," Tangmo said.

"He has opened up to you, the general and the sergeant then?" Cawl asked.

"He has."

"Then I can be at peace," Cawl bowed at the trio, spun around, and addressed his fellows machine men. "Our work here is done. The Machine Spirit have picked his custodians, we are no longer needed. Have our vessel ready to leave within two hours."

The Mechanicus bowed to Cawl before the languid procession shuffled down the corridor.

"Hey man, you want a ride?" Henry stabbed his thump at a spare place beside Damien.

"Your generosity is not needed. I, Belisarius Cawl, have no need of assistance to commute," the Archmagos walked down the hall with his posse. "But your concern is appreciated."

"He doesn't seem so bad," Tangmo commented.

"They always does," Albert glowered but quickly became cheery again. "Anyway, let's get going! I'm taking you guys on a tour, come on!"

"Slowly this time," Damien gave the roof a little bonk.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Henry eased his foot on the pedal, the golf cart purred then glided down another corridor at an easy, relaxing speed.

"Where to first my dude?" Tangmo asked Albert.

"Oh! There are so many places I want to show you guys," Albert said enthusiastically. "There's the gun ports, the dining halls, the barracks, the factories, the greenhouses, the Navigator chamber…oh! The Astropath chamber! Go to the Astropath chamber!"

"Seriously?" Tangmo traded looks of distaste with Henry while Damien groaned. "You want us to check out the blind, sickly and crippled people?"

"Guess you gotta keep it grimdark," Henry shrugged.

"Oh, don't be such a baby. Now take a right here."

Following Albert direction, Henry turned right into a large, symmetrically pleasing hall. The space, the light and the design reminded Tangmo of high end shopping mall like Siam Paragon, the wide passageway giving out a nice, relaxing atmosphere that would definitely do wonders for morale. One could almost forget about the grimdark universe outside, almost. Riding along the almost empty corridor, the trio came upon a squad of Krieg guardsmen, marching in crisp ranks, doing a routine patrol. The squad eyed the golf cart for a moment before standing at attention and saluted once they saw who was inside, the trio returning the salute.

"Hot damn, I feel like Patton," Tangmo said.

"Um, excuse me, but I'm Patton," Henry pointed at his awesome general cap.

"I'm not the one driving."

"…Motherfucker."

"Alright guys, we're here," Albert interrupted before Henry could start a profanity ridden tirade. Mumbling under his breath, Henry stepped on the break in an attempt to launch Tangmo through the glass-less windshield. Unfortunately, Tangmo had his seatbelt on, so it was Damien who went stumbling gracelessly off the side of the golf cart.

"What in the fuck?!" Damien threw his arms up in the air.

"Sorry, that was meant for him," Henry got off and strode toward the tall cathedral like door. To the surprise of the trio, the two partitions slid smoothly open as they approached, revealing yet another glaring aberration that clashes greatly with the grimdark motif one would associates with the forty second millennium.

The place looked really fucking nice. As in, it put the most opulent high rise offices you see in those lawyers and doctors TV shows to shame, and here Tangmo was expecting some hellishly dark and dank confines that smelled of death. Instead, it was a wide, roomy working space that artfully blends the European gothic design with sleek, 21st century architecture. And the views, good God almighty, the view. Passed rows of computer workstation and other weird 40k devices was an uninterrupted panoramic glass pane that showed the stars and ships twinkling in the black nimbus beyond. The trio was waltzing toward the window when they noticed the occupants.

Wait a minute…

"Why do they look normal?" Henry eyed a passing teenage Astropath moving with deliberate steps like he'd just learned how to walk. The New Yorker's unblinking regard sends him scurrying away faster.

"Normal? Sure. Healthy? Nah," Tangmo said. "These people looked like they just got liberated from the Death Railway in Kanchanaburi. That's River Khwae, by the way."

"I know, I saw the movie," Damien said. "That doesn't explain why they're not a bunch of miserable blind sods though."

"Medicines were provided to us by the Machine Spirit," an old man in his fifties shuffle toward them, leaning on a walking stick and supported by two younger Astropaths. "The affliction we received during our trail and subsequent initiation has been cure. I never thought I would be able to see again, or to feel, to taste."

"Yo Albert, what did you gave them?" Tangmo tapped the earbud.

"The ship holds a massive database on medicines, medical machines and medical procedures," Albert announced proudly. "One of those is a nano solution that you eject into the blood stream to repair the nerves and synapses at a cellular level. The med-bay here is stock full of cutting edge healing technology, we can fix anything short of Nurgle's Rot."

"So what's your name old timer?" Damien asked the senior Astropath.

"Mezon, brother Astartes," he bowed lowly. "I am the head of the Astropaths."

"How many of you are there?"

"Forty in all, brother Astartes."

"Please, call me Damien. So are you taking good care of your charges?"

"We are all adjusting brother Damien, I am helping along as much as I can."

"Very nice my dude. That transmission with Guilliman was your handy work?"

"That distinction belongs to those ten aspirants over there. They were the ones who established contact with the glorious Primarch."

"Thank you Mezon," Henry said and led the trio pass a wide, layered circular dais that was obviously the main astropathic platform and toward a nice looking ceramic table currently occupied eerily subdue teenagers, steaming bowls of mushy food sat in front of them. They all stopped eating when the trio approached, fear raked their gaunt faces.

"You're the crew that helped us talk with the Primarch?" Henry said pleasantly, adopting his presidential persona again, that seemed to ease the Astropaths a little.

"Yes, lord general," a bald girl said. "We are the team that made the astropathic connection. Was our work satisfactory?"

"Oh definitely, outstanding job," Henry reassuring words eased their apprehension. "So how are you guys feeling? Nauseated? Bleeding anywhere?"

"We are actually quite fine sir," a boy with an unkempt black hair spoke in a subdued voice. "It's…almost odd that our usual afflictions were not present. We are terribly tired though."

"Well, rest up then, you lots earned," Henry encouragement put a smile on their face. "I'll see you all later."

After a brief tour of the Astropath chamber, which served as their working space and apartment in one, the trio headed back to the golf cart. Tangmo was adjusting his awesome commissar cap when Henry dashed passed him and sat smugly down on the passenger seat, grinning broadly.

"Really bitch? Really?" Tangmo took the wheel and pressed the ignition button.

"Hey, I already drove the first leg," Henry shrugged innocently.

"Sure general," Tangmo rolled his eyes and drove back toward the wide corridor, "where to next?"

"Eurydice is in the mess hall with all your friends," the AI said. "Let's go find her."

"Why?" Damien leaned on the roof.

"You saw how the Astropath's abilities were increased by the correct apparatuses and the restoration of their senses?" Albert said. "Well, let's just say the Navigator's chamber is a lot like that. Take a left here."

"You already got a Navigator, why do you need her?" Tangmo turned smoothly down a hallway.

"That's a surprise," Albert giggled conspiratorially. "Now hurry up before they finish their meal."

"Alright, gonna take this up a notch," Tangmo stepped on the pedal.

"Wait, you can see her right now?" Henry inquired.

"Oh yeah, I see everyone, everywhere," Albert answered nonchalantly.

"That's fucking creepy," Damien muttered.

"Yo Albert, put on some fucking driving tune dude," Tangmo burst out laughing when the lively Eurobeat tempo boomed through their earbuds and helmet.

"This is the most un-Warhammer thing imaginable, but I don't give a fuck!" Damien roared, headbanging furiously.

"As much as I like the song," Henry cast a worried look at the dementedly grinning Tangmo. "Can you maybe slow down a bit?"

"Can't! The music's controlling me!" Tangmo swerved passed a few yelping Cadian and Kolasian guardsmen hanging out in the wide hallway. "Yo Albert, the cafeteria is dead ahead right?"

"Oh yeah!" Albert replied.

"Wait, so besides taking care of everything on this ship, you're also the DJ?" Henry asked Albert.

"Yep! And check this out, I can even put it on the ship's PA system."

"Albert don't!"

"Déjà vu, I've just been to this place before. Higher on the street, and I know it's my time to go! Calling you, and the search is a mystery. Standing on my feet, it's so hard when I try to be me, whoa!"

The ship wide transmission ended after the chorus, the song returning to the private confines of earbuds and helmet while the trio laughed their asses off like a bunch of morons.

"Oh shit, we're in so much fucking trouble," Damien facepalmed himself, still snickering.

"You dumbass!" Henry bellowed as the golf cart entered the mess hall proper. "Ship wide transmission is supposed to play church songs and shit, not fucking Eurobeat!"

"Well I run this shit, so I'll play whatever I want!" Albert shot back.

"So where are my homies at?" Tangmo droved expertly around groups of stunned guardsmen still gazing up at the ceiling, dumbfounded by the unusual transmission, none of them realizing that the golf cart had sped pass until the wind brushes against their backs.

"Hang on…there! That bench over there."

"I see it," without warning Tangmo swerved right, Henry and Damien squealing from the sudden turn, hands clutching tight on the spinning vehicle. Men and women darted out the golf cart's zigzagging path, moving in fast twisting curves with clear trajectory toward where the main characters were seated. Oh yeah, time to show off.

Banking hard on the wheel, Tangmo put the golf cart into a 360 spin, Henry and Damien still screaming, sending it careening toward the bench. Then he stepped on the break, bringing the vehicle into a smooth, gliding stop two inches from the wide eyed main characters.

There was a moment of silence as Déjà vu faded before Henry and Damien leapt off and bellowed in exalted unison.

"KANSEI DORIFTO!"

"They called me the Neon Devil of Bangkok, bitch!" Tangmo got out of the cart and threw his corna into the air.

"Why is it that every time something strange happens, you are always in its shadow?" Orhul asked.

"What was that transmission?" Meko said, still eyeing the ceiling. "It sounded like…music?"

"I kinda like it," Korri piped up shyly.

"Got a nice beat to it," Krix smiled, her fingers tapping the polished metal bench. "I can definitely like it."

"Of course you would," Luva said snidely. "Such a based and uninspired musicianship can only excite those of the more simple sensibility."

"I heartily agree," Leilatha sipped her tin cup.

"Heresy! No one disses Déjà vu!" Damien said with fiery zeal. "Tangmo, punish them!"

"Pardon the interruption, brother Damien," brother Gallus approached, the Space Marine had taken off his helmet, revealing a chiseled stern face and closed cropped brown hair. "But I trust that your meeting with Belisarius Cawl went well?"

"Oh it did," Damien smirked. "He was kinda of afraid of the Machine Spirit, but we got everything sorted out. Now the ghost in the machine is in complete support of our quest given to us by none other than Roboute Guilliman himself."

"You spoke with our Primarch?!" Gallus's granite decorum shattered the moment Guilliman's name came up, while the tank crew and guardsmen exploded into a cacophony of questions, words after words pilling atop one another.

"Alright, shut up!" Damien raised his voice and waited until everybody calmed the hell down before waving to the golf cart's wide back. "Get on, we'll tell you along the way."

When everybody just stared at the Astartes, Tangmo and Henry spun to face them and said in a monotone voice:

"That's an order guys."

Blinking out of their stupor, the main characters, with clear reservation, stepped onto the golf cart, with Damien and Gallus climbing up first, followed by the human soldiers. The vehicle didn't dip or tilted from the added weight.

"Everybody comfy?" Grunts and shoves answered Damien, things were getting a little cramp. When no actual complains came, the Canadian gave the roof a quick tap. "That's everyone, let's go dude."

"No, that's not everyone, we're still missing…"

"Coreth! My good man, will you and your family join us please?" Tangmo cut in before Henry can finish his sentence, waving at the Night Lords characters.

"If that is your wish, lord commissar," Coreth spoke up before Eurydice can object, the Navigator scowled at her husband then shot Tangmo a dirty look before rising primly, giving her unwashed dark blue dress a quick dusting.

"Make some rooms guys, we wouldn't be alive if it weren't for these four," grumbles answered Tangmo as the passengers shuffled to make some room.

"Perhaps you would like a more comfortable seat?" Being the gentlemen that he is, Henry offered his seat to Eurydice.

"I'll sit with my husband, if you wouldn't mind," the finality in her tone made Henry and Tangmo cringed. Damn, she really doesn't trust them, does she?

"Of course," Tangmo went on politely but Eurydice's icy look refused to thaw. "So is everybody set?"

"We are," Krillen said.

"Okay," Tangmo stepped on the pedal and the golf cart took off again, the speed and balance unaffected by the additional passengers. "Alright, so how long until we reach the Navigator's chamber?"

"Well, it's a long way, so there's plenty of time to tell them about Guilliman."

Tangmo and Henry stared at the dashboard, both surprised and a little horrified that Albert had spoken through the golf cart's speakers, revealing himself to the main characters, all of whom had gone silent at the unfamiliar sound. Thank God they were back in the empty hallway, so nobody else heard it.

"Who said that?" Leilatha demanded.

"That was the Machine Spirit," Damien answered.

"It achieved sentiency?" Gallus's tone hardened. "Brother Damien, this is a dangerous precedence. We must summon a Tech Priest to perform a sanctifying rite on the machine immediately before the rouge intelligence endangers us."

"I agree with brother Gallus," Ladaee added urgently, Tangmo could see her doing some weird warding hand sign in the rearview mirror. "We must find the central mainframe and sever its control with the ship."

"Whoa, if they're already freaking out this bad over little old me, imagine the shitstorm when you tell them about Guilliman," Albert snickered. "Alright Damien, let it rip."

Coughing to clear his throat and bring the main characters to attention, Damien told them about their meeting with Guilliman and the mission that had been bestowed upon them. Soon, the outrage that had flared so fierce before paled to one of horrified incomprehensibility, unable and unwilling to believe what Damien had just told them.

"Our gene-sire has returned," Gallus sat down on the wide flat bed, squeezing Xiphos and Orhul into the squirming Pollius, his eyes distant. "But with the aid of the treacherous Eldar and their foul witchcraft. I…I don't understand, how could he be accepting of their help? And with Saint Celestine herself preceding over the ritual…I can barely make sense of it all."

"I understand the frustration bro," Damien laid a gentle hand on his second in command's pauldron. "But you must understand that these are extremely dangerous time, and changes must be made for us to effectively fight the Ruinous power. The Eldar might be fickle, but at least our goals are aligned at the moment."

Gallus nodded slowly, the tenseness in his face easing, "I suppose. And if it is lord Guilliman himself who has given the decree, then I will obey absent hesitation."

"We must be ever vigilant in our zeal and fury brother, but now it must also be tempered and honed by logic and reason."

"Yes brother sergeant."

"Aww, Damien is being all warm and brotherly," Henry crooned obnoxiously.

"…Excuse me but, Ladaee was it?" Damien turned to the engineer. "Mind if I kill your boyfriend real quick? He's being a douche."

"I would rather you didn't, brother Damien," Ladaee bowed timidly, still not accustomed to speaking with a Space Marine. "General Henry is a valuable member of the Imperial Guards, I beseech you to show mercy for any transgression that he might have made."

"He's obviously joking," Albert spoke up, once again startling the main characters. "Tell her you're joking Damien."

"Am I?" Damien leaned closer to Henry, creepily breathing down his neck.

"Would you cut that out, you're scaring the poor girl," Albert barked his reprimand.

"Alright fine," Damien rolled his eyes and returned to his standing position.

"Umm…thank you?" Not knowing where to looking, Ladaee gave the space between Tangmo and Henry a sharp nod.

"See, I'm not a bad guy," Albert said.

"We'll see, Machine Spirit," Gallus said, still distrustful but more accepting of his predicament.

"Good enough for me!" Albert beamed.

What followed was a silence that stretched on into the minutes; their little drive through the gigantic Gloriana quickly became quite uncomfortable.

"Okay, the quietness is freaking me out," Tangmo turned a corner. "Seriously, someone make some noise."

"I can help with that," at Albert utterance a soft piano melody blared from the golf cart speakers, the serene tune grabbing the attention of Luva and Leilatha. When the smooth jazz saxophone lead joined the sweet piano, the trio nodded their head approvingly.

"What is this music?" Leilatha eyes lit up. "It is very pleasing."

"Smooth jazz, lady commissar," Tangmo said. "It's a musical style from old Terra that aims to create a soothing and sometime romantic atmosphere. This particular composition is called The Moment, penned by the immortal saxophonist name Kenneth Bruce Gorelick, better known as Kenny G."

"Interesting," Leilatha nodded appreciatively.

"It is good to know that the Machine Spirit condone music of a more refined sort," Luva added.

"I have a million more songs like this," Albert piped up.

"Oh yeah, that's remind me," Tangmo met Leilatha's eyes via the rearview mirror. "Have you been given any directive as to what happens after the Kolasi mission has been accomplished?"

"None," Leilatha shook her head. "I'm thinking about transferring to a more active warzone where the fist of the commissariat is needed most."

"Yeah, hold that thought," Tangmo interrupted. "I need you."

Scandalous gasps went up among the women, Leilatha herself blushed furiously while Tyra glared imperiously at the lady commissar.

"Phrasing!" Henry and Damien spoke up at the same.

"Right, sorry about that," Tangmo himself was getting a little red. "What I mean, Leilatha, is that someone of such incomparable skill like yourself will be more valuable to our mission than some thankless battlefield elsewhere." The two commissar locked eyes again. "So…what do you think?"

Leilatha smiled again, a small upward flick of her lips that was both beautiful to behold and irritably pompous.

"Well, if you put it that way Tangmo, I believe I shall stay," Tangmo's brow rose in surprise, this was the first time Leilatha referred to him by his name. "Someone needs to keep the troops in line since your lax leadership will more than likely be inadequate."

"Thank you Leilatha," Tangmo offered her a handsome parting smile then shifted his rearview mirror until he found Xiphos. "Next we have you colonel Xiphos."

"Sir," Xiphos sat up straighter.

"Ease off with the formality dude, after everything we been through I don't think it's necessary anymore."

"Of course commissar," Xiphos leaned back into the golf cart rail. "What do you need?"

"Your Fire Guards," Tangmo continued. "Lord Guilliman said we have the authority to requisition any Imperial force to aid us. The Fire Guard had performed their duty with distinction, so I hereby extend you and your regiment a formal invitation to join us."

"It would be a great honor sir," Xiphos nodded. "I pledge what remained of my regiment to your cause. And I have friends in other regiments, companies and platoons that would surely be interested."

"Come to think of it, how many troops do we have left?" Henry spoke up. "I mean, we took a hell of a beating these last two days."

"Hang on let me check," Albert said. "Alright, so, for the Cadian forces that took part in the Kidemonas operation, we have seven thousand four hundred and thirty five infantry, six hundred heavy artillery pieces, forty Leman Russ, eighty Chimera, one Stormhammer and six Macharius. As for the Kolasian, eight thousand and seventy three mixtures of light and heavy infantry, huh, you guys aren't really big into armored warfare."

"It's one of our disadvantages," Pollius spoke up.

"I saw a large number of Cadian Whiteshields on this ship," Krillen spoke up. "Who are they?"

"Oh right! They're cadet units that were off planet when the 13th Black Crusade kicks off, but because of a Warp storm, they never joined the battle in time. I picked them up on my way here," Albert said. "There are three thousands of them."

"What about the Death Korps?" Ruven asked.

"They came with Cawl, he'd transferred them to our custody," Albert continued, "thirty thousand infantry, eight hundred tanks and a thousand artillery pieces."

"All right, now we're starting to look like a real army," Henry grinned when a new song begins. "Nice! Nocturne! Anyway, since this Cadian regiment is composed of other surviving regiments, what do we call it?"

"The 89th Cadia," Tangmo spoke up. "I just added up the number from other regiments, thought it might be pretty cool, like how Ciaphas Cain did it."

Expecting Krillen to protest, the colonel instead nodded thoughtfully and said, "that's a good name."

"Alright, Krillen approved. Congratulation guys, we got a new name," Tangmo hollered, while the Cadian guardsmen gave a more reserved huzzah, "hey Albert, how long until we reach this Navigator chamber?"

"You're here, stop the car."

Stepping on the break, and throwing a few people in the back off their seat, Tangmo unbuckled his seatbelts and went to stand beside the golf cart, stretching his muscles. After his shoulders gave a satisfying pop, Tangmo glanced up at the thick, unassuming marble white metallic door in front of him.

"I'll go ahead and check if Tristan is decent," Albert said when Eurydice came to stand beside Tangmo, eyeing the door.

"You already have a Navigator," she said, not looking at him. "Why am I here?"

"I don't know," Tangmo shrugged. "But apparently this ship functions differently from everything else in the Imperium. But yeah, I haven't a clue."

The main characters were gathering around the trio when a loud unlocking click sounded and the huge door crept backward to reveal a young boy that couldn't be older than fifteen, a clean and well lit homely room complete with furniture of carved wood and various amenities stretched out behind him, a far cry from the dank, disgusting chamber with the putrid pool from the Night Lords book.

"Hello," the boy bowed politely, giving the golden bandana on his forehead a firm tug. "My name is Tristan."

"Nice to meet you Tristan," Tangmo extended his and Tristan took it, shaking enthusiastically. "How was the ride through the Warp?"

"Very bumpy and very scary," Tristan said nervously and released Tangmo's hand. "The darkness and the monsters were really terrifying…" his words trailed off when he spotted Eurydice, more specifically the black bandana on her head.

"You're like me," Tristan's face fell, becoming more distraught as the seconds passed before he looked at Tangmo again. "Am I getting replaced?"

"I don't know kid I…hey! Let go!" Tangmo yelled when Tristan latched on to his awesome commissar coat.

"Please don't send me back to the ship!" He cried, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry I messed up, I promise not to do that again! I'll be good! Please! Don't take me back to that black ship, I beg of you!"

"You're not getting replace Tristan," Albert spoke up soothingly.

"Took your sweet time, you ass!" Tangmo shouted. "Seriously kid, get off the coat before I roundhouse your head."

Tristan stumbled back, sniffing and hugging himself, casting fearful glance at Eurydice.

"If I'm not replacing him, then why am I here?" Eurydice asked, her countenance softening.

"Show them Tristan, there's nothing to be afraid of," with clear reluctance, Tristan waved the main characters into the room, Gallus taking his place by the entrance, standing sentinel, while the guardsmen and tank crew wandered around the room, admiring the interior's pleasing curved contour.

"This is where I guide the ship in the Warp," Tristan took them to a circular, and very expensive looking, couch in the middle of the room. At the center of the ring of soft, polished leather sofa was a raised dais the shape of a fancy cocktail glass, six plastic ringlets sat on top of it.

"You see, this ship wasn't built to torment its Navigator, but enhance and multiply their ability, since the people back during the Dark Age of Technology knew how much strain it put on a single person," Albert explained. "Therefore, this ship was designed to accommodate six Navigators for an excursion into the Warp."

"Incredible," Eurydice walked over to the ringlet and picked one up. "And this is used to link our powers together and let us navigate through the Warp?"

"Indeed," Albert said. "It also helps you to more accurately pinpoint the Astronomican and your destination. No more missing by a few light years anymore."

Eurydice placed the ringlet down and glanced at Tristan, "you want me to mentor the boy?"

"I want you to work with him," Albert said.

"We won't force you to stay," Tangmo approached Eurydice. "But we'll really appreciate it if you do."

"You mean I can walk away right now and you'll let me go?" Eurydice raised a skeptic brow.

"I rather you work for us willingly, if not, then you're free to leave at your leisure," Tangmo shrugged. "But for incentive, I can guarantee you safety and a great working environment."

"Mother, don't be difficult," Victoria walked up to Eurydice, pouting hard.

"I am not being difficult," Eurydice huffed then looked at Coreth and Marlonah. "What do you two think?"

"Looks a lot better than our last gig," Marlonah ventured. "And it's not like we have anywhere else to go."

"She's right," Coreth added. "Besides, I'm sure I'll find some odd jobs here and there, this place is huge."

"Coreth can be assigned to maintenance, while Marlonah to defense," Tangmo spoke up, wanting to seal the deal. "Not sure about Victoria though."

"I can fly, if you remember," Victoria said and Tangmo snapped his fingers.

"Tyra!"

The redhead pilot skipped toward Tangmo, earning a dagger sharp, sidelong glance from Leilatha.

"Yes commissar?" She saluted perkily and flashed him the prettiest smile he had ever seen.

"You'll be piloting the Valkyrie for us, right?" Tangmo asked.

"Yes sir."

"You need a copilot?"

Tyra looked Victoria up and down, "can you fly?"

"I learn from the best," Victoria nudge her head at her father.

"Welcome to the Imperial Navy then," Tyra extended her hand and they shook cordially. Eurydice looked about ready to protest but a sharp, warning glance from Marlonah silenced her, while Coreth went to her side and whispered soft words into her ears. After a moment, Eurydice walked up to Victoria and gave her daughter a mighty hug, the younger woman squawking from the intimate and embarrassingly public contact.

"Alright, now with that taken care of," Henry clapped loudly. "Albert, what's next on the agenda?"

"Well, I'm bringing about a hundred thousand civilians up into the ship so we can have a functioning society on this tub," Albert said. "You know, have a happy workforce in factories and farms while also contributing to art and culture. My selective algorithm will take care of everything, so you guys can chill."

"Cool," Henry nodded. "So that's it?"

"Not quite," Albert said mischievously. "You still got to name the ship."

"Oh, I got one!" Damien waved his arms enthusiastically. "Super Turbo Space Dragon Wizard!"

"Oh no, we're calling her Neil DeGrasse Tyson!" Tangmo piped up.

"Naming a 40k death machine after a peaceful astrophysicist is quite detrimental to both parties," Henry made his input. "No, we're calling her the Emperor's Vengeance."

Tangmo and Damien snorted loudly,

"Well that's super lame," Damien made a disgusted face.

"Fuck you, it's a good name!" Henry shot back.

"It's like baby's first Warhammer name," Tangmo added, "how about Maximum Awesome?"

"Jesus Christ, and you have the gall to criticize me?" Henry said.

"I don't know, that sounds pretty cool," Damien stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"If anyone sees a ship call 'Maximum Awesome', they're going to think we're retarded," Henry snapped his fingers. "I got it, Morgoth. It's short, to the point and sounds evil as fuck."

"Nah, too obvious, and we might draw his attention," Tangmo waved him off, "how about Anomander Rake? He's an upstanding dude that kicked major asses."

"Too long," Damien whined. "Oh! REQUIS THE DEMIGOD!"

"Hmm…" Tangmo actually considered it. "The ship doesn't look like a big brolic black dude name Requis though."

"Space Godzilla?"

"Not enough crystal. Star Blazer?"

"Too 1980s children cartoon. Fists of Hawking?"

"Rhapsody of the Warrior Force of Dragon Fire?"

"Savior of the Cosmos?"

"Elon, Champion of Humanity?"

"Super Galaxy Saiyan?"

"Fuck You With a Bolter?"

"The Litany of the Ultra Indomitable Rage?"

"Drake's Final Equation?"

"WILL YOU THREE MORONS STOP FUCKING AROUND AND NAME THE FUCKING SHIP ALREADY?!" Albert yelled, his timbre shaking the Navigator's chamber, making everyone cowered in fear.

"Okay, okay, geez, don't go pop a CPU, damn," Tangmo actually gave the name some thought before saying, "the Immortal Spirit."

When Damien and Henry didn't sass him, Tangmo continued:

"Think about, it fits perfectly with 40k, but it doesn't conveyed malice. Instead, it's a declaration of humanity's unbent, unbowed and unbroken spirit, ready to stand tall against the evil of the universe. And as we build up our reputation, the name can become a beacon of hope for the Imperium and a scourge to our enemies. So? What do you say?"

"I dig it," Henry nod.

"Me too," Damien concurred.

"Then it settles," Tangmo announced, "from this moment on, this Gloriana shall be known as the Immortal Spirit."

"Cool," empty silence followed Albert less the grandeur response. "Umm…"

"So what now?" Henry asked, around him the main characters were casting an expectant look at them.

"…We could throw party?" Albert offered.

"Alright," Damien shrugged and pointed dramatically upward. "Give me a fat beat dude!"

And Albert did just that, the loud techno pop tempo boomed across the wide circular chamber, the beat infectiously catchy. Before they knew what was happening, the trio was already dancing when the lyrics kicked in:

"Are wa, dare da? Dare da? Dare da? Are wa Debiru, Debiruman! Debiruman!"