"Wake up, 30245011
Or Should I call you,
███ von ████
Oh what is it that you go by right now?
——Right,
The Dead Rogue."
The voice continued to speak until everything became a blur.
"Shut it",
the prisoner muttered.
"Do you even know
when to shut your mouth?"
Finally, the voice stopped.
"Ulysses, ████."
The man's lips clearly formed
those words,
the Prisoner's eyes widened.
He was in some kind of office,
No longer restrained.
"How did you know that name?"
He asked,
then lifted his hand up.
The other person came closer into view, revealing a short plump man in his late 50s.
His face no longer obscured,
The inquisitor.
"Let's say, we have an aligning interests."
the man said.
"And don't even bother with your tricks."
He finished speaking then pointed
his finger to the woman in golden mask.
She waved at them.
"Was she always there?,
I couldn't sense her",
the Prisoner thought to himself.
"I will save you the headaches,
she is a blank,
psychic won't work when she's around."
The man shrugged.
"Don't ask me how."
The Prisoner calmed down and
sat back in his seat.
"So, shared interests...
I take it you also want ███ dead."
"Among other things,
to get to him....
We would need to shake alot of places,
kill many people––
and by we, I mean you."
The inquisitor leaned against the table
and handed him a parchment.
Seems to be a planet, Named "Erika's orb."
"You still haven't told me
how you know Ulysses",
The Prisoner asked.
"An old friend", he answered.
"Is that how you know about
my real name",
The Prisoner questioned.
"Indeed,
I have been looking for you
for the past seven years,
it's very hard to find a dead man,
you know. And you don't make it
very easy as well."
"Who would have thought
a dead heir would be calling himself
Dead Rogue, that's just ironic."
The inquisitor let out a scoffs.
"So how did you know I was on that ship"
he asked.
"The blank,
and you were not really being quiet
the last couple of years either",
why are you in such a hurry to die?" inquisitor asked.
"Dead?, the bastard was finally in my grasp.
I could have given him the Retribution
he deserves, had you not interfere."
He slammed his fist on the desk.
The inquisitor laughed
"I doubt that psy-damper
was part of your plan."
"I...could have managed, I think."
He answered hesitantly.
"Sure thing boy,
Are you prepare for real service
to the Imperium?",
Inquisitor asked while
shoving the parchment on
the man's chest.
"Alright Inquisitor Helsin"
The man replied after
he read the name's on the table.
Theolard Helsin.
"What should we call you?
Son of Artine." Helsin asked
"Kochav von Artine"
Kochav answered resolute.
"I almost forgot, theses are yours right?
She found theses in
the same holding as you."
Helsin asked then
kicked a box full of items Kochav's way.
A half-body jacket, an old force-sword,
a golden Aquila and
a pentagon shaped Psy-Amplifier.
"Aren't they all a little old",
Helsin asked while observing.
"They're important… a reminder."
Kochav answered.
With a look of understanding on
Helsin's face,
he determined this young man
was finally ready.
He then nodded to the woman.
"Mira will give you the details, just follow her."
The young man followed the mute woman, from a darken hallway to
a big unused hangar full of cobwebs
and dust. In the middle
there was a landing pad,
clearly had been used.
An out of place aircraft was located there.
A valkyrie,
"Wings of the emperor"
a named given by imperial guardmans.
This airborne assault carrier was one of
the widely used vehicles in the
imperium of man, a well-armed,
durable and versatile aircraft
capable of
Vertical Take-off and Landing.
With twin-engines on top
and hellstrike missiles under the wings,
A true beauty.
This one was grey seered with
caledor underside,
matching the biome of the assigned planet.
"Erika's Orb''
A glacier planet, the polar opposite of Artine, But harsh all the same.
There was no known settlement there...
to the public's eyes at least.
"This parchment is useless,
it is just general information,
what am I supposed to do there?"
Kochav asked Mira.
She was just sitting across from him,
without replying.
Mira then shrugged and
walked toward the cockpit.
"Great, she will give me the details he said", Kochav mumbled to himself.
Arriving on top of a icy hill,
The valkyrie landed.
Kochav and Mira walked to the ramp,
with the ramp down.
Only Kochav was outside the ship.
"Am I supposed to do this alone?"
Kochav questioned.
Mira then pointed past Kochav
to direction behind him,
10'o North West.
Then went back inside,
took off almost immediately.
"...Great" *sigh*.
He then started walking in that direction.
around 20 minutes later....
a metallic thud,
Kochav stepped on what seemed
to be a metal surface.
The foot that made contact was buried
in the snow, after some clearing.
a metal hatch?
"Is this it?"
Kochav muttered.
He lifted the hatch slowly,
revealing a ladder descending into darkness.
Bracing himself, he took a deep breath
and prepared to descend once more.
"What would Philos say in
a situation like this?....
dispatch the servitors?,
no.....commencing the purge protocol."
The scene shifted to the bottom
of the abyss, a narrow hallway
fitted with red light far apart
from each others.
"another gloomy place,
where do i get rainbow and sunshine
around here", spoken Sarcastically.
He walked along the hallway,
metal doors on both sides,
with sign next to some of them.
"High-Compatibility",
"Volatile",
"Marked for Disposals"
....Then the next door on the left,
read "Harvest".
This one was occupied,
A whirring could be heard...
A sound of butchering.
Kochav stood next to the door,
using his telekinesis to unlock the door
and open it silently.
He peeked inside,
a room in red.
A drill-arm could be seen
thrusting at something back and forth,
each times covered in fresh
blood and meats.
The metallic smells filled the air,
disrupting his rationality.
He cleared his mind before
peeking inside again,
the figure was gone.
He tried to detect presence,
nothing came up.
He then swung the door opened,
Sword charged and readied.
A sight in front of him is pure horror.
An examination bed....
with a dead astartes?,
decaying and leaving horrid odor.
Upon closer look,
Holes of various sizes could be seen
all over the torso,
matching the shape of the drill.
"It got something from his body,
whatever it was" he muttered.
He searched the room for clues
and potential information of
what he gotten himself into.
...There is nothing, desk emptied,
shelf filled with jar and bones.
The only lead was the blood trail
from whatever that thing was,
it led to another door.
A big door, wide enough for
a small-size vehicle.
He followed the trail, a holding or
maybe a storage space,
some kind of mist was obscuring the view.
It reeked warp's bleed,
a smell known to all psykers.
This was dangerous.
Kochav drew his force-sword again
and ready to channel his power,
filling the darken hold with
blue and white sparks.
The room began to change,
the floor turned into black liquid and
the wall narrowed.
If kochav were to explain this...
it felt like a peril of the warp.
A psychic phenomenon...
But Kochav wasn't using much of his power, except for some enhanced awareness
and presence detection.
He did not trigger this event.
Then,
a dark figure appeared in front of him,
there was nothing to
identify the being.
Except that they were made of pure shadow, Just shapeless darkness.
The creature crept closer,
with each closing distant
the peril became more intense.
Daemonic hands sprouted from the floor trying to get a hold on Kochav,
Pinning him in place.
He swung his sword at the hands,
shooting force-lighting at the being.
There was no effect.
Suddenly the light filled the room,
and everything went back to before.
"That thing was like.....A living Peril".
He thought to himself while being befuddled.
"Someone else is coming"
Kochav realized,
the people who used this place to
do their wicked experiments was home.
Kochav looked around.
He ducked into the shadows.
Rows of servitors stood like statues—
some splattered with blood, others pristine.
Had these machines
been the surgeons?
Speculated then hides in the shadow, awakening his psychic abilities.
His pupils turned blue, readied to ambush.
The door slowly open,
building up tension.
When it fully opened,
there was nothing comin–––
*bang-bang*
A barrage of bullets,
hitting everything insight.
Most of the servitors fell,
spilling oil and blood everywhere.
When the silent returned
and smoke dissipated,
The now covered in blood and oil Kochav was holding out his hands
to make a force-shield,
he was unscathed.
Though angered.
"My turn."
*Boom*
Kochav sent back the fire-power
along with some servitor's parts
and his full psychic force.
But no respond.
After that,
he quickly moved around the room.
Stood next to the door.
He made a quick peek and saw a downed machinery resembling a combination
of servitors and ranged weaponries.
"Is whoever made this has a thing for servi–––",
He noticed something.
the core in it's chest was
pulsing red and flashing,
the rhythm was going faster,
Kochav's eyes widened and he instinctively pulled up force-shield again.
The machine exploded
sending kochav flying to the end of the room,
he tried to get up,
Though not badly injured.
The effect of the blast
made him disoriented and staggered,
trying to balance himself using his sword,
he managed to stand.
"We meet again, Dead Rogue."
Kochav's losing balance, and he fell.
A familiar figure from the past,
a foe.
With considerable amount of manpowers.
The figure got closer,
standing next to the downed Rogue.
Then a kick to the face.