The serpent kept bleeding a silvery metal instead of blood, and the psychic apparition didn't bleed at all, instead losing pieces of itself, then regenerating them in a golden glow.

Still, that two-handed sword had to be at least a Force Weapon, as every single strike hit and did damage.

The daemon prince struck back furiously, teeth and claw matching the angel blow-by-blow.

Meanwhile, the Litany kept firing in a wide circle around the fiery arena, while our corvettes bombarded nearly every single Chaos base to keep them pinned.

But suppression couldn't last long, as the Chaos fleet decided to attack and rescue the traitor Primarch.

"Scythes of the Emperor, can I depend on you to escort my mother and support the angel against the serpent?" I asked while turning towards Captain Thrasius and his squad.

They didn't hesitate for a second, and nodded politely towards Justine. "Of course, Captain Pef. It would be our honor and our duty. For the Emperor!" the Captain proclaimed in a certain voice.

I was afraid this might mean their deaths, but such is the fate of all Astartes. Not one of them has died of old age.

My mother had equipped a light power armor and a Rosarius, which should keep her safe for a few seconds.

"Follow me Astartes. This ship has a teleportarium, and there is no Silence here to stop me." the Inquisitor commanded and marched out with her retinue.

I held my thumb up for success and concentrated back on my own mission, keeping the orbitals secure.

Torpedoes and lances pounded the advancing Chaos fleet, and my corvettes were sent to dart in and around the big ships, to try and deliver a surprise torpedo into their engines.

Our space fighters flew wildly, dueling other demon fighters and intercepting bombers and torpedoes, while the missile launchers emptied their magazines, firing krak missiles as fast as possible.

Then the Chaos heavy ships closed in, and our void shields began straining under enemy fire. A purple flash, and then another, and two Chaos battleships burst into flames and demons as they encountered my own vortex torpedoes.

Of course, even more demons rushed in, somehow managing to swim through the void towards us. The point defense flak cannons and the multi-lasers fired non-stop, bursting the demons into shreds of ectoplasm and fire.

I urged the Canticle to steer away and hide behind a huge Ark Mechanicus warship, using this time to recharge the shields and reload missiles and torpedoes.

The corvettes did great, especially against demon fighters and Chaos destroyers, since their own guns fired faster and more accurately due to being new and well maintained.

I tallied about 200 Chaos escorts destroyed by my meager fleet, and a dozen critical hits on enemy capital ships that had their void shields down.

The Canticle itself did much better, with about 50 kills to our name, and even 3 battleships damaged with Vortex warheads. Considering the time and effort it took to build such large monsters, it was quite a score for us.

We lost 200 corvettes ourselves, which wasn't that good, but such is war. Especially in tight close combat, losses begin to grow fast.

"All ships, disengage and regroup at the moon, fleet pattern Alpha." I commanded as another corvette blew up from a single heavy cruiser salvo.

The Canticle's Spirit marked the guilty Chaos cruiser for retaliation and I approved. Our salvo of torpedoes blew that cruiser apart, and even a destroyer escorting it took some damage from the huge explosion. The lance batteries tracked the wounded prey and finished it off in a single pulse.

Damn, I loved my ship now!

Again, we fled and began rearming the torpedo tubes, when down on Estaban an immense psyker scream erupted.

"Talk to me, Brother Ludvaius!" I demanded without turning, my attention focused on the fleet battle.

"Lady Justine made contact. It seems that demon got scared and tried to run." he explained while I blew up a Chaos frigate and the hunter-killer launchers brought down a sneaky bomber that got too close.

The Canticle shook tremendously, and the void shield failed. And backup Ion Shield sprang back into place almost instantly.

"Teleport detected, lower decks. Combat servitors deploying to intercept." the tech-priest announced in a metallic voice.

Damnation!

Most of my Astartes were down on the ground, as were most of my troops.

"Estimate numbers and composition." I asked with trepidation, while the Canticle fled the battle before something important was sabotaged, and we were left defenseless.

The Magos screeched something in binharic, then resumed in Gothic. "Estimation complete. We detect 6 traitor Astartes and one unidentified male. Presumed armed and dangerous."

"Captain, you should evacuate to the Litany." Ludvaius demanded in a stern voice.

Uhh. The Astartes was right, of course. We'd need at least 6000 troops to match 6 power armored traitor marines, and they had a sorcerer as well.

Not that these boarders would stand and take fire from 6000 guardsmen, instead hunting us all with lightning strikes and perhaps surprise teleports.

Still, that would leave my ship, and all those wounded at the traitors' mercy.

Not on my watch!

"Victor, take the bridge. Magos, gather some servitors. We're going hunting." I commanded with fake bravery.

Damn it all to hell! I tried to avoid getting into fights with the ugly things.

In a minute, I had a hundred servitors, two squads of void marines and my bodyguard Astartes prepared, checking our weapons, lasguns and krak grenades, then melta guns and the power weapons.

I kinda doubted my chances in melee with an Astartes, especially some damned millennia-old veteran with a kill count over a million.

Then we rushed towards the latest sighting of the traitors, and caught one of them butchering some serfs while laughing madly. Khorne worshiper possibly.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

My first shot hit his face straight on, but it barely singed his hardened skin, then a blur pushed me away as it sped and struck the traitor with his Power Maul. The Chaos space marine simply broke in two, head exploding into gore and blood, then his chest.

"Containment and eject the remains into the sun" I demanded while poking the Ryza Magos on his shoulder. Or maybe his hip, hard to tell with the transhuman cyborgs.

A few servitors stayed behind to complete my order, and we ran towards the next enemy sighting. I vectored their path on my implant. The Medicae ward, of course.

"Send servitors to protect the wounded. If any are able to shoot, give them weapons." I spoke on the vox-bead, among deep breaths.

Commanding from the front was exhausting, and my Canticle battlecruiser was really big. Lots of running to do.

Then we reached a deck elevator and I managed to calm my breath, and observe Ludvaius. The marine seemed barely excited, as if this was only routine or training for him.

I mean, he probably saw more combat missions than I saw STC templates, so it made sense a little.

"Wear your helmet, Astartes." I demanded as I remembered mine and drew it on. I rather not get punched in the face again.

He listened to me, for some reason and it was just in time. The elevator doors opened suddenly, and we entered a hail of bolter fire and shrapnel from grenades and exploding machinery.

I fell on my belly on reflex and started firing my Hellpistol at any big face I could find. Since space marines are so big, their wide faces make a decent target, with their eyes as the bullseye.

About a dozen shots later, I did score a full hit, and I saw the traitor's eye burst and explode into purulent green goo. Nurgulite traitor, most likely. No wonder they headed for the medical ward.

I kept firing, while around myself the servitors and void marines began exploding into chunks of metal and blood.

Ludvaius stood in front of me and fired his bolter in loud staccato bursts, then a bluish melta blob from the barrel underneath.

Another traitor Astartes died, his armor failing him and the melta round burning his organs like creme flambé.

Then form the side, a woman's voice started singing and chanting, and a dozen Sisters arrived leading a few hundred walking wounded.

I'm not sure how they kept breathing and shooting while also running and chanting, but perhaps they had special training.

My own breath was painful and getting difficult, and I was lying down and shooting a recoiless weapon, not a bolter.

Then again, logic wasn't the strongest suit of this universe. A traitor marine growled something and punched a Sister straight through her belly, but the woman keep singing and shooting the ugly face from point-blank range, til both of them fell to the deck, dead.

Another sister grabbed an Astartes and flung him over the shoulder, then aided by two other women cracked the traitor's head open, and then incinerated the brains.

The guardsmen fired their own weapons in support, without doing too much damage, but it helped.

The nearest traitor Astartes turned to return fire, and Ludvaius pounced, striking his back with the Power Maul and then crushing the head under his armored boot.

Did I mention this galaxy is a bit brutal? Oh, yes.

Almost immediately, my friend was lifted up in the air by some unseen force, his arms forced back, leaving him exposed.

So I sprang from my safe-ish position and rushed out, firing my pistol at the pink wearing sorcerer. It did nothing, of course. The psyker had a force field around him and simply lifted his other hand towards me.

Sucker!

His face scowled in bewilderment, then fear as I got closer and closer and his Warp powers had no effect.

Then I slipped on some blood and slid on my back towards him, luckily avoiding a burst of bolter rounds from the last traitor Astartes.

My left hand grabbed my Power Dagger and I sliced the Chaos psyker's leg as I passed under him, and jumped towards the bigger threat.

But here, my luck ran out. The space marine simply caught my wrist and broke it like a twig, and ignored my reflex kick to the balls. Damn it!

These guys didn't have balls anymore.

"Funny guy, aren't you?" The Chaos Astartes chuckled in a baritone voice.

A thin scream behind me announced Ludvaius had arrived and terminated the wounded sorcerer. "Purge the unclean!" he bellowed in a loud shout.

His barrage of bolter rounds struck the traitor, only to be deflected by some type of shield.

But then another melta blast crashed that shield and I fell to the deck as the traitor drew his own weapon to parry Ludvaius's maul.

I rolled away and kept shooting with my good hand, which possibly only annoyed the humorous traitor.

Then, as the two Astartes were locked in a contest of strength, a metallic tentacle flashed by and scooped out the traitor's brain in a single second.

"Interesting. I've never seen such bionic implants before." the Magos commented while examining the still living brain with fascination. I nicknamed this techpriest the Juggler, for his skill with scalpels, as he had the habit of spinning a dozen scalpels in mid-air before a surgery.

Juggler lowered the pulsating brain towards me, so I can see it for myself. The brain looked rather normal to me, though why would anyone make black metal wires as a brain implant? Pehaps emulating his Primarch, Angron?

"Ouch. Perhaps those are slave controls" I muttered as my wrist started acting up, no doubt due to the exposed bones sticking out.

A Battle Sister came to check me out and give me a medical prognosis. "I fear you will never use that hand again. Pray to the Emperor, for healing and for salvation."

I sighed inward and fell on my back, trying to rest. Why was everything so bright?