Escorted by Ludvaius and followed by Rose and her retinue, I take the Mona Lisa and land on the planet, right next to the wreckage of the citadel.

A Neophyte marine with a flamethrower is casually incinerating bodies, while further away tech-priests and servitors perform binharic rites and convert the wounded into undying servants of the Omnissiah.

Nobody bats an eye at the scene, even though I can barely keep myself from hurling at the smells and sights.

War, war never changes...not the smell of death, not the burning buildings and the cries of the orphans.

Hopefully everyone still alive will get evacuated after I talk with the Astartes.

A dead body jumps up and sprints towards me, glass-like claws emerging from its hands. Ludvaius swings his Power Maul like a feather and crushes the infected body into a pulp.

All around, dozens of more bodies begin rising, undead but infected with tyranid synapses. A Deathguard draws his bolter and unloads his clip in a single second, scoring a dozen headshots without breaking stride.

I contribute too, my Hellpistol firing blazing hot beams and blasting a single enemy into Hell with only three shots. Then I search around, but there aren't anymore targets.

Rose giggles and blows softly on her fingertips, violet flames disappearing by magic.

"At least you didn't panic." she comments while Ludvaius holds a thumb up in praise.

"The time to panic is after the fight is over." I declare, trying to sound cool. A Deathwatch snorts amused, so it probably didn't work.

Then I check the more distant Neophytes, catching a few giggles aimed at us. A damn prank, using live enemies. Possibly Astartes humor, macabre as it may be.

Justine steps beside me, and checks me over seeming worried. "You're too slow" she announces in a sad voice.

I just shrug and walk faster. Damn killers all of them. I'm a thinker not a damn grunt.

A bit later, our guards stop as the Scythes honor guard takes over the escort. Not even Ludvaius is allowed into their sacred sanctuary.

Just me and Rose, and a thousand space marines, and perhaps ten times as many Aspirants.

These are recruits undergoing testing, selected from the local population. They don't look so tough, not yet. I could probably take one, if I'm wearing my power armor, and he doesn't.

I expect many of them will be inducted early and assigned as Neophytes to replenish lost brothers. The marines spend lives with same ease as they spend bolter rounds.

Then again...I do the same thing, on an even larger scale.

One ship would have thousands of crew if it was small and millions for a battleship. The regiments under my command are much the same, line infantry regiments reaching 40 thousand guardsmen while armor regiments have much fewer soldiers but greater firepower.

"Chapter Master Thorcyra, congratulations on the promotion." I tell the man with a small nod.

He stares at me in silence, then turns towards the Inquisitor. "We will listen to your maverick commander, Inquisitor. My Chaplain is bringing the coffin with Captain Oberdeii, right now."

Yeah, I don't amount to much right now, because Astartes respect only strength. But knowledge is power too. And that's my chosen field of battle.

Soon enough, the former Chapter Master is floated inside the lavish meeting room, filled with purity seals and campaign trophies. Skulls, severed arms holding weapons, flags and armor bits.

"The Chaplain can stay. He has seen the tyranid fleet, right?" I ask to make sure.

"I have. I was on board the Xenophon when it dropped out of Warp right next to the xeno bugs." Hornindal says proudly.

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"What do you need of me, Lord Pef? I am waiting to die and join the Emperor." Oberdeii asks from his coffin.

I glance at Rose and nod.

"These words are forever sealed under Inquisition's mandate as the Agent of the Throne. Is this understood?" she demands in a warped voice that tingles in the back of mind. Some kind of engram spell was infused in the words.

The three marines agree with some reluctance.

"I am Rogue Trader Pef Lancefire. You may dismiss me as a merchant or profiteer, like many such Captains are. But my Warrant right here says: The bearer of this Warrant speaks with Our Imperial Voice. And I tell you, the Primarchs will return. Roboute Guilliman first, and then more." I proclaim in my sternest voice.

I admit I practiced it a little, though using different words. It works, and how it works.

The Chaplain explodes in a golden glow, his eyes burning with bluish warplight. A scroll in his hand amplifies the light a dozen times. A feeling of wrongness washes over me and I feel my knees give way.

Damn psykers! At least this one is friendly...for a minimal definition of the word.

"I don't feel any taint, Captain." the spiritual leader of the Scythes declares after a long minute.

To the side, Rose is polishing her nails without a care. I mean, there're no organs or brains flying around yet, so it must be okay.

With some effort I rise to my feet and push forward, then punch the crazy marine in the jaw. I think my wrist breaks inside the power armor anyway.

"Enough, Brother Hornindal!" the Chapter Master commands in a sharp tone, and the glow lowers ten times, but not entirely.

I rub my wrist and wait for the Astartes to talk, but the man turns toward the coffin. "You know this man better than me, brother. Is he mad?"

A short metallic laugh sounds from the coffin. "He deciphered the use of Pharos in a few minutes. And you've seen the ring of forts in our orbit. Plus...he has the Warrant."

"I asked Lord Pef to divert the psychic beacon on the Necron world of Mandragora. The attempt was successful beyond belief. Hive fleet Kraken is changing course, ignoring human worlds and eliminating the ancient menace like attack dogs. Soon, the Necron Dynasty will be crushed under trillions of tyranid organisms." Rose speaks in my support, making the Chaplain perk up in wonder.

"Wonderful news, if it could save humanity from both threats at once." he remarks in a hopeful voice.

"You forget one thing, Lord Hornindal. Sotha is emitting a powerful psychic beam of stellar intensity to illuminate the Necron capital in the Warp. And that hive fleet you had encountered is coming here to investigate, and eat any lifeforms it finds. Trees, crops, animals or people...it's all the same for the Hive." I explain in polite voice then step away before he remembers I punched him. If he even felt it.

"You have a plan for another flawless victory?" the Chapter Master wonders with a piercing gaze. Well, I wish I could...but I lack the tools to build the weapons I would need for something like this.

"Somewhat. I have a plan to exterminate this hive fleet and save everyone on Sotha. You won't like it, but you can complain to your Primarch about my crazy ideas." I answer with a shrug.

Rose turns around and leaves without a word.

"What plan? Speak already, damn trader!" Obredaii asks from its coffin.

"Well, we have this big fleet here, enough to load everyone on board. Then you change location and let me kill all the nids by myself. I always wanted to see the Exterminatus in action." I say with a joking voice and turn around to jog after Rose.

I don't get very far, of course. Damn marines are too fast.

An armored hand catches my throat and turns me around.

"You're too slow." the damn Chaplain explains politely, and punches me with his other hand. His wrist doesn't break.