Editing Republican Commando (section)

===(29) The War Economy===
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All Automata maniples have been returned to the Blade. It will take many days to clean off Eldar blood. Some Squats have been ordered to remain behind until further brotherhoods and Inquisitorial scions can arrive, the Wraithship cordoned off, but most await next orders. Their normally stoic demeanors are somewhat downtrodden today, as they consider the specifics of the mission ahead.

Cortain is again considering drinking as he examines those Automata that remain. A great many were destroyed, and it will take some time to repair. Cyril checks on Notomok's treatment in medbay, and notes it will be another few days before treatment is completed, so he goes off to sculpt some Wraithbone with shattered spirit stone inlays. Temur, now in possession of another signature wargear, is eager to try out his new Paragon Blade at the closest opportunity.

Shady, by now, is long gone, but as Cyril moves the shards into the trophy room, he notes a small box on one of the pillars, one the Commandos did not place there. Opening the box carefully, there are four small sculptures within. Inlaid with crystal, they are white nautilus shells. One for each Commando. There's also a note within.

"Told you. Militant arm." 

Cyril clips one Nautilus Shell to himself, and sends a pulse through voxnet to the other Commandos, alerting them to their gift.

"What is it?" Cortain asks.
"Seals of his Ordo, I believe," Cyril suggests, "They are in the trophy room."
"Well...at least it is not something trying to kill us," Cortain sighs, knowing full well how these Inquisitors work.
Cyril chuckles. "Yet."

O'Malley is finding a boomtime for the Bar and Grill, to ease the squats' sorrows, while Rockfist, Rose, and Executor Thexus are all hard at work setting up a number of boxes and supply crates. The Commandos are nonetheless eager to put off the meeting with the House of Korst'la, and do their best to drag out daily duties before departure.

Cyril heads off to the workshop to craft an image of an Eldar Guardian, in classical Squattish style. The Eldar will be screaming. The Eldar will be on fire. In the workshop, there are piles of ded automata. They are organized for work, but left aside for now as secondary priority. Rose takes a moment to wipe some oil on her coveralls, as Rockfist hefts a box under Thexus's supervision.

"You know, my hair used to be red," she sighs, "And I thought getting oil out of it BEFORE was hard. Now..."
"Your implants trouble you?" Cyril asks.
"Nope, just a lot of work," she says, "Thexus asked us to ready some gear for the deal. He did not trust the Tau's craftsmanship, and would prefer "proper" weapons be displayed."
"In this I agree with him," Cyril affirms, "The Tau's machines are effective, but lack spirit."
"THIS IS ACCURATE, CONSUL," Thexus blasts, "I AM PREPARING WEAPONS AND EQUIPMENT FOR DISPLAY, SO AS TO AVOID INEFFICIENT XENOS CRAFTSMANSHIP. DESPITE WHAT THE XENOS SELLS, YOUR WEAPONS SHALL BE FORGED BY MYSELF AND THE ROCKFIST-LORD-OF-HELOTS."
"That is a first for that name," Cortain silently observes to himself.
Rockfist and Thexus merely stare at each other, before moving on with their business.
"Hey, I helped too!" Rose pouts, "Anyway, we're ready to depart when you're ready. The Nemi system is two days away according to maps, so it shouldn't be that bad."
"Understood," Cortain says, sending the order to the bridge.
"The Tau seemed patient. I do not like to consider why," Cyril muses, "Now that the Eldar wreck is secured we should make haste before he sells too many of those abominable tee shirts."
"Aye, lads," Rockfist nods, "We'll depart immediately then."

The order reverberates through the Blade, and the Squats rush to position. A day of travel out of the system, and the Blade enters the Warp for a short jump from Taedium to Nemi. There are a few in storage, and the Farseer was transferred to the Medicae Deck for Brynjol's personal use. O'Malley can mix Eldar milkshakes surprisingly well, though the art of Farseer Distillation is beyond him.

Cyril takes the time to begin his newest sculpture. Evoking the ancient terran legendary sculpture of Laocoön and His Sons, he can craft an Eldar Statue reaching around and screaming, attempting to extinguish the serpentine flames.  Rose even offers some thoughts, as she remembers seeing the original. It really helps to bring out the fear in the statue. Cyril nods with satisfaction and places his work in the trophy room, displacing the Nautilus case. He thanks Rose for her input.

Cortain's, few days go by quietly and uninterrupted, as he anxiously awaits anything the Tau may need of him. It is somewhat worrying when he receives no message. Temur heads to the Hololithic Combat Chambers to practice, until his new Paragon Blade is but an extension of himself.

The Blade forces itself out of the Warp mercifully quickly. A day of travel and verification that the Commandos are going to the right Nemi system, and the jewel of the planetary system greets them. The only sore spot marring it, in most of the Commandos' eyes, is the flagship Studio 69. There are also a couple of Imperial Battleships and Cruisers in station, no doubt the interested buyers.

Rockfist awaits at the bridge as the Commandos file in. He looks somewhat dour.
"Well, lad, here we are," he sighs, "The Nemi system. We've already received word of a firing range and proving ground set up on the Garden Nemi, and all that's missin'...are you, lads."
The Commandos remain silent. The Rite of Command is invoked, generating additional Requisition, in preparation for the mission.
"We're told the Tau has already landed, an' his list of prospective buyers are landing as we speak," Rockfist says, "We've loaded some gear onto haulers for demonstration, but I can't say what ta expect, or what they expect ta see down there.""
"We will have to go there ourselves, then," Cyril declares, "Theta-Ten-Sigma will accompany us."
"ACKNOWLEDGED, CONSUL. ALL SYSTEMS NOMINAL," Thexus crosses his mechadendrites.
"It will at least intimidate any thoughts of betrayal to being just thoughts," Cortain notes.
"I'll prepare yer Fire Raptor, lad," Rockfist says, "An' a transport fer Thexus. I'll load the location to yer flight cogitators."

The Fire Raptor is rapidly readied, and placed top of the queue. On the Commandos' mark, departure vectors are set and supplies are prepared. Thexus, meanwhile, heads off to rearm himself. The Commandos accompany Thexus to the armoury to grab some special ammo and other gear, and affirm an Oath to the Emperor. Thexus begins disassembly of some of his key components. The last thing the Commandos see as armored doors seal, is removal of his Irad Cleansers, and recalibration of his Darkfire cannon.

The Fire Raptor is launched out of the Launch Bay, as numerous squat haulers bear their weaponry and gear down. Breaking the calm, pleasant atmosphere of the Garden World Nemi, the Fire Raptor flies over a wide plain, over an evident collection of people at the boundary of a cliffside a few meters tall. The Commandos can tell they're at the right place, as the area's flanks are fortified with Tidewall ramparts.

Brynjol wakes up with a snort.
"What- where are we? Why am I in my armour?" he rumbles, "Allfather curse it, did you deploy without waking me again?"
There's even a landing zone set up, a few guides flashing landing lights to indicate a good area.
"This is a bad dream," Cortain says, "You might have to talk to a xenos...WITHOUT EVISCERATING IT."
Brynjol looks aghast. "Say it ain't so."
Cortain looks away.

Landing within the designated zone, the Fire Raptor stands out against the numerous Aquilas and Gun-Cutters that the clients used. Stepping out, the Commandos can see a fairly large conference ahead - numerous Astra Militarum commanders and private company heads sit eagerly in a set of prefab seating. A few minutes later, an Arvus lands, and Thexus deploys. Curiously, today he is wearing a black cloak, with red interior lining, and a tiny little commander hat upon his cortex case. Much to the Commandos' most likely displeasure, Korst'la VII has seen the spectacle now, and pops on over.

"Welcome, welcome, my friends," he says, "Are you ready to help your Militarum choose the best weaponry possible, and make me some money on the side?"

Cyril nods the bare minimum to acknowledge Korst'la and surveys the scene. Brynjol sulks in a corner, ignoring the xenos as best he can.

"The situation is simple," Korst'la says, "What we have here are interested buyers who want to outfit their regiments with top-tier weaponry. They've expressed interest in a lot of rare weaponry and gear, the same type you all use sometimes, and it will be YOUR job to demonstrate them. Give a little history on them, embellish them, sell them, and we'll both walk away a little richer."
Cyril gestures to Thexus. "We took the liberty of bringing an expert on the holy implements of war."
"Good, good. If you want to review a couple of the weapons, feel free to check the storage complex, it's the prefab building to the rear," Korst'la says, looking up at Thexus, "When you and your Automata have reviewed everything, just head to us and we can begin."
"Automaton. Singular," Cyril corrects him, "We will return shortly."
"I'm a businessman, not a Gothic major," Korst'la shrugs, "To each their own."

"Is he an automaton though? I thought he was partly biological..." Brynjol murmurs over the vox, "Besides, he has something approximating free will..."
"Of course he is," Cyril says as he leads the way to the storage warehouses, "Aught else would be tech-heresy, right, Thexus?"
"CORRECT, CONSUL. CORTEXES ARE BIOPLASTIC AS WELL AS CIRCUITRY."
"An automaton is strictly speaking, a robot with limited pre-programmed instructions," Brynjol points out.
"Thexus' programmed instructions are just extremely sophistocated, Brynjol," Cyril states.
"But he can answer questions with natural language," Brynjol notes, "And I swear he's LEARNING..."
To this, Cyril has no response.

Within the prefabricated building, there are a number of boxes. Many are open. The Commandos can pick out Rotor Cannons, Volkite Chargers, and Photon Thrusters at a quick glance, meaning they'll probably have to show those off at a minimum. What catches the eye the most, however, is the blue torch in the rear, near a fabric fold.

"Got a selection of good things on sale, stranger..." the Merchant rasps.

Brynjol, after months of trying, finally acquires a Blur Shield. Temur selects a box of targeters to freely apply to the Commandos' weaponry. Cortain manages to get Enhanced Retrothrusters for Crusader Invictus, improving its maneuverability. Cyril augments the Blade with another set of Volkite Grand Bombards, making the vessel symmetrical once more, to the autistic relief of all. As a team, the Commandos upgrade their VF/SS Fighters to Tier 2 Maneuverability.

"Heh heh heh, thank you..." the Merchant rasps as he steps behind some fabric.

The Commandos note a couple of Fire Warriors moving boxes outside for testing. The xenos regard them with full respect. Everything's ready outside. Brynjol sighs, affixing his already slightly-battered blurshield to his belt, where it interfaces with his armour systems, and sealing his helmet. Cortain stares at them with the burning hate of Damocles.

"The Conference is ready for you, Gue'ron'sha," one Tau says, "The weapons have been moved out and ready for testing."
Cortain just walks without giving a second thought to the Fire Warriors. Brynjol sighs, wrapping his ragged robes close. Cyril checks that Thexus is following to exposit about the weapons. Temur walks behind Cyril, taking his helmet off and clipping it to his belt, enjoying the fresh air while he can, before the disgusting xenos and mere humans force him to replace it and filter the air. Approaching the conference, a number of lord generals and commanders are about. Korst'la is standing off to the side, conversing with Thexus, while Khodexus the Dark Eldar Archon stands, always scanning the area and ensuring Techmarine Jamal doesn't somehow hurt himself.

"CONSUL, I HAVE DETERMINED IMPERIALIS AUXILIA REGIMENTS OF THIS AGE ARE NOT ARMED TO EXCERTUS STANDARD. THESE COHORTS ARE LAX."
"Blame the Administratum and Munitorum for desperation," Cortain says, "The economy is not the same as it was during the Crusades. I blame the Ministorum, personally, but such talk might bring about...controversy."
"Perhaps the weapons on display might assist in making up for the humans' current... shortcomings."
"The Guard is as vast as the Imperium, and cannot always be afforded the finest weapons," Cyril states, "Let us do what we can to rectify that."
"I fully agree..." Korst'la states, "My friends, the Republican Commandos, have graciously offered to demonstrate a number of weaponry that can assist you and your regiments in combating the threat of the Xenos and Heretic, all for affordable prices."
Korst'la smiles, before stepping back.
"All weaponry is strictly of the highest grade," Korst'la says, "But I'll hand it off to my dear friends here to continue..."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s4SXDj2rIfk

Cyril stiffens at the word 'friends,' and studies the commanders' faces at the mention of 'the threat of the Xenos and the Heretic.' The Commanders are all eager to see the demonstrations. Cortain gives one last once-over of the weapons on display. There are boxes of Photon weaponry, Rotor Cannons, and Volkite weapons. A crate of Charnabal Sabres lays half-opened. The squats have brought over a box of Auxilia Lasrifles, and there's at least one more sealed box so far.

"Shall I begin with the Rotor Cannon, brothers?" Temur offers.
"Proceed, Temur," Cortain says, "Xenos, if you will present us some targets."
"Of course," Korst'la says, offering a signal, "If you would like to offer some words about the weapon...?"
Khodexus moves a hand, and out of one shelter, a black-bagged slave of some sort is brought out at 50m, and forced to the ground. The Kabalite gives the signal, and Korst'la nods, "You have your target."

Brynjol realizes something off about the target. Something smells familiar.

"Not a very impressive target," Cyril admonishes, "A Rotor Cannon can fell massive beasts, and you offer one individual?"
Khodexus sends another signal out, and another large bunch of slaves are brought out.
Cyril instantly recognizes them as more Craftworlders, probably more sorry remnants of Kionash.

"Now, Commanders, for someone not of Astartes stature this weapon would likely be deployed as a crew-served emplacement," Temur explains, "However, for demonstration purposes, I will be using it in a style closer to a heavy rifle."
"Thexus, please supplement our descriptions of these weapons," Cyril states.
"Rotor Cannons are forebears to the Assault Cannons of modern days," Cortain continues, "Though these weapons are of slower firing rate."
"Normally, under field conditions, the weapon would require a minimum crew of two, and a usual complement of three, gunner, loader, and a spotter to carry the tripod and gunshield," Temur continues, "And act as a watch for the other two."
"THAT IS PARTIALLY CORRECT, CONSULS. DURING THE CRUSADE, THE EXCERTUS WOULD OUTFIT ENTIRE SECTIONS OF TROOPERS WITH THESE HEAVY WEAPONS, SO AS TO PROVIDE SUPPRESSIVE AND MASSED FIRE," Thexus clarifies, "THE ADVANTAGE OF A ROTOR CANNON IS ITS SINGULAR MAN-PORTABILITY, AND RATE OF FIRE AT COST OF HITTING POWER, THOUGH ALTERNATE PATTERNS DID EXIST. I SHALL DEFER TO THE CONSUL CHAMPION."
"There ARE ammunition types available that augment the penetrative capacity of the weapon close to that of a solid-core bolt round, however they are expensive and difficult to manufacture," Temur continues, "I'm sure that our host would have these available should you need them for your elite units."

Temur raises the weapon, preparing to fire.
"This leaves a sour taste in my mouth," Brynjol mutters, "Defeated captives should not be paraded and slaughtered like this."
"Would you rather pillows?" Cortain quips.
"Yes, I would, as a matter of fact," Brynjol retorts, "You kill them for the sake of pragmatism, not for some... show."
"And why not?" Cyril asks, "It serves a purpose, demonstrating what the weapons can do. Besides, pillows cost more than captured xenos. This kills two problems with one volley."
"You're beginning to sound like Korst'la after a deal," Khodexus laughs slowly and inhumanly.
Cyril stiffens.

Temur subvocalizes into the vox collar. "If you have objections, brother, now is the time to do something before I continue."
Brynjol walks out towards the captives abruptly. The Commanders are intrigued now. Brynjol yanks the black bags off their heads one by one, before walking back to his spot. They curse at him hatefully in Eldar, not expecting Brynjol to fully understand.
"Call me what you like, but I only treat animals like animals," Brynjol hisses in Eldar, before turning to the assembled conference, helmet off, "If you're going to kill them for show, you will at least look them in their faces when you do so. But I will have no part of it."

The Mark is given, and Temur opens fire. He drag the weapon's sights along the Eldar prisoners, blasting apart 9 of them in gory volleys. The Commanders clap.

"Now I do say," says one with a curious country drawl, "Those are mighty fine. I'll definitely be considering some of those."
"Fun note: Should you find a proper merchant, you can also outfit them with bio-corrosive rounds to better dissolve biological enemies to mush," Cortain states.
"Very good," Korst'la says, "The Rotor cannon is available for a paltry fee, with package deals for every 10 ordered."

"WHAT DO YOU INTEND TO DISPLAY NEXT, CONSULS?" Thexus announces.
Temur returns the rotor cannon to the table, and unlimbers his Grav Cannon "I'm not sure if our host has such weapons available, but for the purposes of demonstrating a more exotic option..."
Korst'la gestures, leaving the floor to Temur.
"These weapons are rare and arcane examples of the craftsmanship of Mars, designed to damage an enemy with the weight of his own armor and flesh, or to cripple the motive systems of vehicles," Temur explains, taking aim, "Something such as this would be a heavy crew served or vehicle mounted weapon, but should still serve well for demonstration of the effects of the design."
"THE CONSUL IS CORRECT - THESE WEAPONS CRUSH ENEMIES UNDER THEIR OWN ARMOR," Thexus adds, "ORIGINALLY ADAPTED FROM MINING TOOLS, I NOTE THEY HAVE BEEN IMPROVED SINCE MY TIME."
"Grav-Weapons are still...somewhat restricted in availability, and I have yet to see these weapons mounted on Militarum vehicles," Cortain adds, "Though I have seen a Grav-Cannon on a Land Raider before."

Brynjol stands up, walks over to the table, once more showing a disregard for the spectators.
"Apologies, Temur," Brynjol says, taking a Charnabal sabre from the table, "You have your morals, I have mine."
Brynjol walks over to the eldar, blade in hand.
"At least they saw their death in the face," Temur says, "That is all many of us can ask for."
Cyril sees where this is going, and draws his Astartes-sized saber, gripping the blade to offer it to the Wolf Priest hiltfirst. Brynjol hesitates, taking Cyril's sword and dropping the human-sized one in the dust.

"Ah, it seems our Priest is now going to present the Charnabal Saber," Cortain says quickly, "These are elegantly-crafted blades meant for duels of honour."
Brynjol severs the Eldar's bonds with a few swipes, and drops the sword at his feet.
"Cortain, make sure you have a good angle to record this," Cyril voxes, "It may prove useful for morale."
The eldar looks down, and then up at Brynjol.
"Fight me," Brynjol demands.
"I shall hold my demonstration until my battle-brother is finished," Temur says, stepping back, turning to Korst'la, "Perhaps in the meantime, you can arrange a more suitable target for demonstrating the effects of graviton arms?"
Korst'la nods, allowing the duel to commence first.

The Eldar rapidly grabs the saber, though slower than it should be due to malnourishment.
"Though they lack the...erm, power of Power Weapons," Cortain says, "The Saber makes up for it in grace."
Brynjol takes no action as the Eldar haphazardly charges with the weapon. Brynjol parries it effortlessly.
"Look at that style," Cortain comments.
"Indeed, each Charnabal Sabre is customized to its buyer, so fear not," Korst'la says, "We have the sword for you."
Brynjol stares impassively at the assorted Commanders, sword held loosely in hand, as he defends himself against the emaciated slave's pitiful advances.
"A mewling cub could do better than this," Brynjol sighs boredly, "Are you a warrior, or do you bear the children for your people?

Brynjol soon realizes this slave, not fed for days and severely beaten, is unable to provide even the barest possibility of challenge. Brynjol knocks the Eldar's blade aside with one mailed fist, and then brutally clubs him to the ground with the haft of the weapon. He kneels and beats the Eldar slave to death with the hilt of the ornate weapon.

"Did you know that Eldar Blood makes a good decoration for your weapons?" Cortain asks, "It even brings out the best of the Missus' Eyes."
"Normally used for Flawless Cuts," Korst'la says, "You can see the weapon's structure is sturdy enough to be used as a club as well, money back guarantee."
Cyril sighs. The sword is basically a duelling machete, but it's still designed for killing with the sharp part.
"A most elegant weapon," Brynjol says, "Would you care for a further demonstration?"

There is much clapping echoing across the stands.
"I think I want one already!" a crude viking-ish motherfucker yells. The Commandos reason he's probably from Deleator.
Brynjol looks around. These Commanders just don't understand. They're no less than bloodthirsty IDIOTS, willing to toss their money away to a xenos for the latest shiny. Brynjol tosses the sabre back to Cyril, leaving the eldar blade in the dust by the mangled corpse, and takes his seat, unwilling to speak more on matters.

New slaves are brought out, ready for Temur's gentle ministrations with grav. As the grav beams compress each slave into eldar mcnuggets, it causes some of the Commanders to get out of their seats for a better look.
"This weapon as stated is also exceptionally effective vs light and even heavy vehicles," Temur adds.
"We carry the Graviton Imploder, an older design but no less effective," Korst'la says.

Cortain grabs a Volkite Charge and unleashes his handgun.
"Now for a personal favorite of mine, Volkite," "Volkite weapons are available in multiple sizes, ranging from pistols like the one in my hand, to weapons large enough to mount on a tank."
"THE VOLKITE CHARGER IS RARE IN THIS AGE, I FIND, USUALLY RESTRICTED TO HIGH LEVEL MAGI," Thexus clarifies, "EVEN DURING MY TIME, IT WAS BECOMING RARER AND RARER."
"The Paragon is correct, these ancient weapons are rare, mostly due to their upkeep compared to something like the beloved boltgun or lasgun," Cortain agrees, "Now to see why these things are frightening."
"Rare, until today!" Korst'la hastily adds, "Package deals for every ten!"

Cortain points his finger at one of the slaves, firing a martian deathray at the eldar. The initial damage is monstrous, but the deflagration afterwards catches everyone's eyes. The Commanders in the audience are amazed at the beam's killing efficiency, but are double-shocked at the incinerating display.
"For the Emperor!" one yells in excitement.
The Eldar Slave is reduced to a heap of burning ash, with the others inching away in horror.
"Now for a...more large-scale measure of Volkite's potency," Cortain says, leveling the Charger.
"DEFLAGRATE INCINERATES OPPONENTS FROM THE INSIDE," Thexus says, "IT IS USEFUL IF AN OPPONENT IS HARD TO HIT OR POSSESSES SHIELDING."

Cortain stares in simulated glee as more Eldar become tinder and dust. Their explosions are quite large, and it's already got a few commanders pulling out their checkbooks.
"These weapons are especially effective against Tyranids, I find," Cortain says.
The only exception is the commander with the drawl, who is relatively calm, adjusting his ten gallon hat as he converses with another commander from his world.

Cyril strides up, hefting a Photon Thruster.
Cortain motions to Cyril. "Our Consul Delegatus is now going to demonstrate the arcane weaponry of Photon Thrusters."
For this one, an old jetbike is brought out. Cyril holds the gun up for all to see before taking aim at the bike.
"EVEN THE MECHANICUM DID NOT FULLY UNDERSTAND THESE WEAPONS, AS THEY FORGED THEM. THEY WERE RETICENT TO SPEAK OF THE SOURCE. THEY ARE CAPABLE OF PIERCING ANY ARMOR.
"These are weapons that will definitely arouse your Techpriests," Cortain says.

A howling black beam streams from the weapon, slicing through the Jetbike, and exploding it. Only the engine casing remains.
"As you can see, these beams are more effective than those fired by lasguns," Cyril clarifies, "Shearing through armour with the cold contempt of the void."
"By far one of the most expensive weapons, but worth every Throne!" Korst'la says.
"Beams of pure dark science, piercing even the thickest armor," Cortain affirms.

Much to the Commandos' surprise, a pair of identical black beams surges from behind them, to hit the last remnant of the jetbike, exploding it.
"A little warning, please, Thexus," Brynjol requests as the Commandos laugh amongst each other.
"THAT WAS NOT ME, CONSUL."

The Commandos stop completely short, raising weapons, searching for any hostile actions. Khodexus twirls a pair of Darklight Blasters in his hands, before sheathing them, "Yes, dark science, of course..."
The Commandos stare at the weapons, the implications obvious now.
"Resume," Khodexus says, "Don't let me...interrupt."
"You can bloody well stand in front of us from now on," Brynjol demands.
Khodexus shrugs, standing off to the side, ahead of everyone.

The Militarum Generals and Force Commanders are in deep discussion over the Photon Thrusters, but their enthusiasm for purchase seems barely dimmed.
"Now for the last weapon, and the one that will be given to your men at the best values," Cortain says, picking up a Lasrifle, "These lasrifiles were the standard armaments of the Imperial Militia during the Great Crusade."
"We should demonstrate the lasrifles all at once," Cyril suggests, "Temur, would you like to take the first shot, before we begin a volley like the Guard might employ?"
"CONSULS, AS YOU RECALL, THE AUXILIA LASGUNS HAVE THREE SETTINGS - NOMINAL, BLAST CHARGER, AND COLLIMATOR," Thexus blasts, "I AM CONFIDENT THESE EXCERTUS PERSONNEL HAVE SEEN STANDARD FORMS BEFORE. PERHAPS THE BLAST CHARGER WILL INTEREST THEM?"
"Xeno, if you could bring out more targets for the volley demonstration?" Cyril asks.
"As you wish," Korst'la says, "More targets will be prepared."
"As our Paragon mentioned, these weapons are customisable," Cortain says, "The Blast Chargers overclock the Lasrifle's settings to produce a remarkably more potent blast."

Temur takes a moment to demonstrate the Auxilia Lasgun's Blast Charger. The slave is blown backwards with incredible force, quite dead.
"As you can see, Blast Chargers radically increase a lasgun's stopping power, rivalling a longlas in an expert's hands while still serving as an effective lasgun," Cyril says, "They do, however, carry the same risks as overcharged use of the M36 pattern."
"And there is no lasgun in this Imperium that can hit that hard," Cortain adds.
"With the Auxilia Lasrifle, even your basic infantryman is carrying a capable heavy weapon!" Korst'la says, "Lasrifles are customizable to the customer's needs, so feel free to augment as needed!"

The Commanders discuss with one another, quite intrigued.
"All as one, now," Cyril commands.
Enabling the Collimators, disabling safeties for additional range, the Commandos take aim at the Eldar.
"Fire."
Cyril, Cortain, and Temur fire as one. While Temur and Cortain blow away eldar after Eldar, Cyril's weapon jams multiple times.
"Thexus, is this one of the xeno's?" he asks, annoyedly.
"Seems our Ice Wraith is having a bit of a problem..." Korst'la says, "But as you can see, weight of fire at great distances overcomes."
"CORRECT, CONSUL," Thexus clarifies.
"Collimators are effective at allowing troops in cover to engage from farther away," Cyril says, "Though they do reduce mobility."

"Excuse me, Commandos," one Commander asks, "In your opinion, would outfitting all troops with all Lasrifle Augments be useful, or keep specialized squads with different augments?"
"It depends on your mission profile, and the objectives commonly assigned to your units," Temur clarifies, "Elite units would benefit from having all options, while rank and file assigned to simple sweeps may only need the basic capability."
"I favor specialization," Cyril says, "But when facing unknown threats the tactical flexibility of many augments can be valuable."
"Collimators are a total must," Cortain suggests, "Blast Chargers would be better used based on discretion. Blast Chargers do carry the risk of melting out the lasrifle."
"The support elements already available to each squad should also be considered," Temur states.
"As Temur says, a cadre of veterans equipped to face any threats while line troopers use collimators is advisable," Cyril says, "Scout forces may need to be considered on a case-by-case basis, depending on their doctrine."

The Commanders take some time to mull this over.

"The last thing we have to show you," Korst'la says, pointing at the sealed box near Brynjol, "Is a defensive piece of gear, useful for deflecting harm away. If you would...?"
Cortain orders some Fire Warriors to open the remaining box, but that is BRYNJOL'S box, dammit. Nobody opens the box but him.  He cracks open the box, and can see neat piles of carefully packaged Iron Halos.

"Our Iron Halos are marginally less powerful as the variants available to the Astartes," Korst'la begins, "But, they are more than up to the task of defense from a wide variety of offensive powers."
"They'll also make you a lot of new friends amongst the Militarum!" Jamal yells helpfully, as a few Fire Warriors guide him from a rocket launcher sitting nearby.
The Commandos are now at a loss for words.
"....Why do you have these?" Cortain asks.
"Freshly constructed," Korst'la replies, "And ready for distribution and purchase by officers and commanders everywhere!"
Cyril inspects the Halos, checking for any obvious differences from Astartes-pattern ones.
"Iron Halos are rare even among the Astartes. These...replicas might be appreciated among successor Chapters," Cyril whispers, "How did you acquire knowledge of their construction?"
"Now now, that would be telling," Korst'la laughs, "I am told, however, that these were all the rage 10,000 years back?"

Cortain reviews the Halos. These are smaller than the Iron Halos of the Astartes, first and foremost. He also notes their power draw is heavier, and their shield projectors are not as efficient. They also have commemorative numbers engraved in them, probably to grant bonuses to interacting with fellow Militarum troops.
"They are definitely not the same," Cortain clarifies, "They are not quite as potent as the real deal, but these would still suffice for a less...endowed chapter."
"THE XENOS IS CORRECT, CONSUL. DURING MY TIME, IT WAS CUSTOMARY FOR EXCERTUS AUXILIA AND MILITIA STRATEGOS, LEGATES, AND FORCE COMMANDERS TO POSSESS THESE," Thexus notes to the Commandos' shock, "I DO NOT SEE A PROBLEM. DO YOUR EXCERTUS AUXILIA NOT USE THEM?"
"They do not," Cyril says, "Power shields of any sort are rare in this Millenium, to the point that these devices would be valuable even to Astartes forces."
Brynjol and Cyril can see Korst'la's eyes literally glaze over with thrones as Cyril speaks.
"One would be considered lucky to even have a Refractor Field," Cortain states.

Korst'la turns around and barks some orders.
"Okay, Jamal, pick one up and stand there," Korst'la orders, "Yes, good. Commandos, you have your target. Don't worry about Jamal, he's tougher than he looks. I suggest the Rotor Cannon, to best illustrate the mass shielding ability, but I leave the specifics to you."

Jamal puts an Iron Halo on, and stands about 30m away. Cyril grabs a Rotor Cannon, sights, and lets loose.

The shield blocks five hits, before flickering off. Two hits bounce harmlessly off ceramite armor, but the last hit knocks Jamal down. He begins to cry. Cortain facepalms. Clearly, this is a damning indictment of the Black Panthers. How he's lasted this long...only the Emperor knows.

"As you can see, the Iron Halo, despite being slightly less efficient than Astartes patterns," Korst'la explains, "It is still an incredible defensive tool."
Cyril carefully sets down the weapon and walks calmly over to extend his hand to Jamal.
"The Omnissiah protects, cousin," Cyril commands,  "You will be fine."
Jamal grabs Cyril's hand, getting up as a Tau orderly rushes over to tend the wound. They didn't actually expect Jamal to get hurt. Cyril signs the Aquila to the Techmarine before rejoining his oathbrothers.
"I want to thank the Republican Commandos for demonstrating the power of these ancient weapons, you've been a great help and will be well rewarded," Korst'la says, "Now then, gentlemen,are you ready to sign?"
Cyril quietly sings a native Nixarterian hunting prayer, hoping that a chorus about watching out for wild yeti will help with checking the fine print.

The Commanders are quite eager to begin signing, but then Khodexus looks up, drawing his blasters. Brynjol hears something off as well. The screeching of engines high in the sky soon reaches all.

"Oh good," Brynjol says, "Trouble."
"Question: Was there supposed to be a late arrival?" Cortain asks.
"No..." Korst'la says, "Why?"

As a pair of Nightwing Interceptors fly overhead, the question is answered.

"Korst'la, you idiot...! Those prisoners were probably theirs!"
"Told you," Brynjol points out.
Khodexus stares wordlessly, before calmly heading back to a cloaked Phantomfish. Much to the Commandos' concern, Korst'la is smiling as he rubs his goatee. "While unexpected, I think we can use this..."
"The Tau is right," Cyril realizes, "There is no better demonstration than a field test."

"All in favour of heading back to the Blade and letting them have their fun?" Brynjol says, eager to leave.
"Not a chance, Brynjol," Cyril says, "These are Imperial troops, not Korst'la's lackeys."
"Besides, I doubt we have a way of returning cleared," Cortain adds.

Korst'la, meanwhile, addresses the generals.
"Gentlemen, I have equipped your transports with Flare Shields and Ramjet Diffraction Grids as a gesture of good faith," Korst'la says, "Retreat to your ships, we can sign the paperwork later. Commandos, would you like to cover them?"
"It is our duty and privilege," Cyril says, "Make haste, gentlemen."
"Lad...the last prefab complex. Check it," Rockfist suddenly voxes.

Cyril's jump pack rumbles to life. "Cortain, keep the Commanders safe. We will be back momentarily."
"Executor?" Cortain asks, passing the buck.
"I WILL ENSURE THE EXCERTUS AUXILIA REACH THEIR TRANSPORTS, CONSUL."
Cyril soars in broad arcs to the complex. "Make it so, Thexus."

Heading on over to the armored prefab complex, the Commandos push open the doors. Perhaps to relative surprise, the VF/SS are waiting.
"Lad, we had intended to test missiles and bombs next," Rockfist says, "But I guess a live fire exercise is in order."
"Rockfist, are there any other Naval Assets to be aware of?" Cortain asks.
"We're seein' Eldar Cruisers up here. We'll hold our own until ya get the higher ups safe," Rockfist says, "We can't quite support ya otherwise."
"The ship is symmetrical again," Cyril says, "Make use of the Grand Bombards and punish them in the Emperor's name."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uo2wT2A-MZI

The Commandos receive word - estimated Heavy Anti-Air contacts. Light Cruisers are breaching atmosphere. Brynjol and Cortain select QAAMs and XLAAs, while Temur and Cyril stick with Krakens and XLAAs. The Commanders have reached their shuttles, and are beginning to take off.

"Launch and form up. Brynjol, on point; we will cover you," Cyril commands, "Protect the Commanders' shuttles."
"I'll go hunting," Brynjol states.

The runway lights glow, and the Commandos accelerate the VF/SS up and into the sky.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2KMr9oyXMKU

The VF/SS fighters take off, the Arvus lighters in the distance. There are five Arvus lighters. They are strangely shimmering, no doubt from the Flare shields and Ramjet Diffractors.

"Commandos, I'll try to provide support from here" Rose announces, "There are Five Arvus Lighters returning to the fleet. The aim is to protect them all, but at least one must survive for this to have been worth it."
The Commandos' VF/SS hololiths alter to a battlefield map.
"There are incoming Darkstar Fighters, and Wraithfighters," she continues, "The Wraithfighters will be heading to the Arvuses, while the Darkstars will most likely be gunning for you."
The hololith projectors zoom out further.
"In addition, Rockfist informs me that an Aurora Light Cruiser and a Hellebore Frigate have breached atmosphere, and are taking interdiction routes," she says, now somewhat out of breath, "Those will be the biggest problem, but they can potentially be outrun or fought off."

"Acknowledged, Rose," Cyril says, "Bryjol, bank for the Wraithfighters."

PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: At least ONE Arvus must survive.
SECONDARY OBJECTIVE 1: Destroy the Aurora Light Cruiser.
SECONDARY OBJECTIVE 2: Destroy the Hellebore Frigate.
TERTIARY (Optional) OBJECTIVE: All Five Arvuses must survive.

"Our priority is the Commanders' safety," Cyril states, "The voidcraft can be destroyed after they are secure. Thexus, do you read?"
"I ACKNOWLEDGE, CONSUL," the Paragon of Metal yells.
"How are the Commanders?"
"ALL EXCERTUS FORCE COMMANDERS HAVE BOARDED ARVUS LIGHTERS, AND ARE RETURNING TO THE FLEET. I AM ABOARD A SEPARATE LANDER, AWAITING ORDERS."

The Commandos debate - Cyril believes sending Thexus against the Frigate is sufficient, as the Light Cruiser can be outrun. Temur, however, knows that attempting to outrun an Eldar is a fool's errand, and suggests Thexus be sent to destroy the Light Cruiser, as VF/SS weaponry is sufficient to combat a frigate. Brynjol recalls firsthand the difference between a frigate and a light cruiser - quite a hefty one. There is a deep stalemate, until Brynjol tosses his weight behind the Light Cruiser. 

"Our manoeuvrability is definitely a strong point versus our gunnery," Brynjol says, "I suggest we deploy Thexus to the Cruiser. It has quite a hefty broadside."
"Are you confident we can deal with these fighters before the frigate threatens the transports?" Cyril asks.
"You're asking the wrong person, Cyril," Brynjol boasts, "I'm ALWAYS confident that I can beat stuff up within a time limit. I think it's a reasonable gamble to make, however."
"Very well. Thexus, bring down the xenos light cruiser. Try to minimize damage to your transport's pilot and to yourself," Cyril relents, "We will have to bring those Wraithfighters down quickly, brothers, but do not lose track of the Darkstars."
"ALL SYSTEMS NOMINAL. WEAPONS HOT. MISSION: DESTRUCTION OF XENOS LIGHT CRUISER ACKNOWLEDGED," Thexus blasts across all channels, "I SHALL TEACH THEM THE ERROR OF IMPEDING THE GREAT CRUSADE."

Brynjol takes point, flying forward towards the two Wraithfighters threatening the Arvuses, leaving the two Darkstars for the other Commanods. He surges ahead 35 AU, before shifting his VF/SS to Strike Mode, and raising his Lance. While the enemy Wraithfighter effectively dodges, a battery of Swarm missiles puts an end to it.

"Brynjol, SWARM," Rose says, "Wraithfighter destroyed. One remaining."

The Darkstars break off, one peeling towards Brynjol and strafing him with Starcannon plasma and Bright lances, while another splits fire between the rest of the Commandos, dealing superficial damage to Temur, but penetrating Cyril's armor for light damage. The Wraithfighter fires its twin distort scythes at the Arvuses, but the Ramjet Diffraction Grid's hit-softening ability saves them from heavy damage, reducing the weapon's damage die by 1d10.

"Commandos, Arvus Lighter 2 reports fire," Rose says, "Ramjet Diffraction Grid is holding, but light damage was sustained."

Cortain sets his VF/SS plasma repeaters to Armorbane phase, and hammers the remaining Wraithfighter with missiles and plasma. However, the Hemlock Wraithfighter has a hefty toughness bonus, and his shots do minimal damage. Temur moves up to cover, and fires everything he has at a nearby Darkstar fighter. Cyril moves up, setting his own plasma to armorbane, and firing at the Wraithfighter. However, he does almost no damage. He finishes with a series of XLAA missiles, but fails to break toughness. He does manage to turn his guns to the other Darkstar, downing it.

"Cyril, FOX 2," Rose says, "Another hit! Just how tough is this thing!?"
"...Wraithbone," Cyril realizes.
"Cyril, GUN kill confirmed," Rose says, "Those Wraithfighters, your plasma wasn't having its normal anti-armor effect, be careful!"
"All squad, switch to bluephase!" Cyril yells, "The Wraithbone lives!"
"I'm seeing another wave come in!" Rose says, "Three more Darkstars, and another two Wraithfighters!"

Brynjol sees the Wraithfighters on the attack, and opens up with a Plasma Swarm missile barrage on one Wraithfighter. Heavily damaging it, he couches his lance, and charges full forward, the Hemlock Wraithfighter bursting into pieces upon his devastating impact. The Commandos dodge and ion shield away incoming bright lances and starcannon fire, while the Wraithfighters moderately damage a few of the Arvuses. They are all still in one piece, however.

"Commandos, the Arvuses are taking heavy fire," Rose says, "And be careful, something feels...off."
"As you can see," Korst'la says over vox, "the Flare Shields and Ramjet Diffractors are heavily blunting the assault, buying you the precious time you need, just as you'll be buying from me!"
"Get off the damn vox, Korst'la!" Brynjol yells angrily.

Brynjol begins to get a bit of a headache, however, as the psychic pilots of the Wraithfighters focus the wrath of the Warp upon him, the closest target. Brynjol concentrates, his mind rebelling instinctively against the maleficarum seething around him, throwing off whatever intelligence guides it, and the warp lances dissipate with a little fphbwt as they strike his VF/SS. Cortain fires his missiles at the remaining Wraithfighters, knowing full well he may not hurt them, but at least he can blow their dodges. Sadly, his plasma misses a Darkstar, but it opens the way for Temur to clear the way, damaging one Darkstar with XLAA missiles and gunning down the other. 

"Rose, how soon can we expect the frigate?" Cyril interjects.
"The Frigate is approaching fast," Rose says, "It will arrive within a few moments."

Realizing that time is running out, Cyril fires a Kraken penetrator at a Wraithfighter, downing it, while firing Fleshbane phase plasma at the Darkstars. Whoops. His plasma gun does burn through, but with great difficulty.

"Cyril, GUNS kill confirmed on first target," Rose says, "But barely. Second target took minimal damage. It wasn't very effective."
"Acknowledged, Control," Cyril smiles warmly at how far Rose has come. Not that anyone could tell through the strikefighter and the Maximus helm, "Well done, Brothers. Two to go. Rose, where is the frigate?"
"Commandos, I'm getting auspex scans..." Rose says, "The Hellebore Frigate has arrived! The Aurora is on it's tai...wait, it's pulling out?"
"Any idea where it heads?" Cortain asks, "I ill like where it is heading..."
"Back into space... towards the rest of the Eldar fleet here," Rose says.

Brynjol, now quite furious at being attacked by the Psy, grabs onto the last Wraithfighter, and claws his way on over. Extending his powered blades, Brynjol brings the weapon down, and strikes.
"Brynjol' that's...Oh no..." Rose says as he rips the pilot out of the Wraithfighter, impaling him on arm blades and leaving the Hemlock to tumble.
"Hemlocks are indeed psychic weapons," Cortain observes.
"Classy," Cyril says, "Try to do that the next time we meet the Black Caste."

While Brynjol dodges the remaining Darkstar's lances and starcannons, the Hellebore frigate, a kilometer and a half long, turns its bright lance turrets on the escaping Arvuses. Regrettably for the commandos, the barrage manages to down the heaviest-damaged Arvus, leaving only four to escort.

"DAMNATION!" Cortain yells.
"Everyone, unleash missiles on the remaining Fighter and engage that voidship!" Cyril commands.

Cortain tails the final Darkstar, lining up a series of XLAA missiles, enraged and vengeful. Three of the four missiles make their mark, and the final Darkstar plummets in fire.

"Cortain, FOX 2," Rose says, "Kill confirmed on rear armor, all that's left is the Frigate there. We have visual on the Light Cruiser, but something's...wrong with it. Its pathing is erratic."
"I would imagine that's due to Thexus bouncing its nav officer off the walls," Brynjol laughs.
"I hope he is not planning on engaging the Fleet up there...!" Cortain begins, before realizing it's Thexus, and he'd thouroughly enjoy doing so.
"The Executor does not disappoint," Cyril points out.
"If things get too sketchy, I'll take my VFSS over to the Cruiser and help him with boarding actions," Brynjol says, "Don't worry."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q7UNmskEg-A

Cortain presses the attack, flying over and switching to Strike Mode, aiming his lance, but sadly missing. Temur pulls up near Cortain, shifting to Strike mode, and targets the Bright Lance turrets that are wrecking the Arvuses. Temur strikes well, and disables a number of turrets in addition to damaging the frigate with the Plasma lance. Cyril joins him, called shotting as well, and disabling the remaining turrets. Brynjol tries to add his firepower to the mix, but his ballistic skill is hot dogshit and he misses the shot.

"Commandos, the Eldar look like they're getting despera...WATCH OUT! IT'S FIRING ITS PULSAR IN ATMOSPHERE!" Rose yells, "Evade!"

The Hellebore begins turning, aiming its Pulsar lance downfield. Hitting such tiny targets with an anti-voidship weapon is near impossible, even for Eldar, and the errant beam of energy misses, to the relief of all.  Cortain begins a forced laughter at the Eldar who missed them, and curses them with advanced sparkly impotence. Eldar forces are beginning to emerge from the small holes the Commandos cut, however, and a few Wraithknights that bring their weapons to bear fire at Temur and Cortain. Lucky for them, however, the weapons miss horrifically. Cortain continues the pressure, heavily damaging the frigate with his Plasma Lance and causing it to falter. Temur adds to the devastation, and leaves the killing blow to Cyril, who guns down a Wraithknight with plasma, while turning his lance to the frigate. It finally begins to sink down, hitting the ground and collapsing in a massive plasma explosion.

"Hellebore confirmed destroyed!" Rose yells, "The Arvuses are clear! The Blade is under attack, however, from Eldar Cruisers, so please return when you can!"
Cyril sighs at the blemish on the Paradise World. At least the Ice World is probably untainted by elves.
"Done. Executor, status?" Cortain asks. He receives nothing but static, however, which concerns him.
"This forebodes ill," Cortain sighs, "Quickly, to the Blade!"

Escorting the Arvuses back to the Fleets, the Commandos can see the Blade and a pair of Dragonships circling each other. This is the last remnant of the Eldar fleet attacking as Studio 69 covers a number of smaller vessels.

"Lad!" Rockfist yells as the Commandos land in the frantic landing bay, "We've held'em off as long as we could. A pair of Cruisers broke through, and we're engaging!"
"Are they in position to attack?" Cyril asks.
"We've got everythin' ready fer ya, lads," Rockfist says, replete in full ceremonial armor, "Jus' give the order!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJjVFMLw_LM

The Commandos decide that this needs to be finished in one decisive strike. The Dragonships are damaged from dueling the Blade, but at full combat effectiveness. The Commandos' retribution is swift and just - Cortain Arc Charges the Arc Reactor, leaving Temur to fire the Arc-Charged Accelerator Cannon. The accelerator cannon focuses the immense energy of the arc reactor, before firing it out in a great beam, raking across the Dragonship and annihilating it before it can even respond. Cortain then boosts the Blade's Augurs, increasing Detection so Brynjol can pierce the Eldar holofields. Thus locked on, Cyril has all the time in the world to line up a shot with the Blade's Volkite Grand Bombards. These vessels are weaker than normal, more ragged, but they too bear the symbols of the devastated Craftworld Kionash. He briefly wonders - is this what the Eldar in the sector have been reduced to? The thought is amusing as the Cruiser is incinerated in deflagrating fire.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uzgBD2wysuI

"Ahh, Commandos," Korst'la suddenly says over hololithic voxes, "I think that was quite profitable for all of us. Much thanks for your help."
"Just make sure you give the Commanders equipment of quality," Cyril warns him.
"I've signed off on numerous contracts thanks to you," he says, "Don't worry, everyone gets what they pay for."
"Frankly, I expected you to be selling them Pulse rifles," Cyril says, "I was pleasantly surprised to see more human archeotech...and the Photon weapons."
"Next time, make sure you try NOT kidnapping people of a species that will hunt down anything for kidnapping," Cortain suggests.
"Oh, relax, Brother. Kionash were good sport," Cyril says, "Besides, they hardly count as people."
"I acknowledge that many of my clients prefer more home-grown gear," says Korst'la, "And as Khodexus has just alerted me, landing on a Maiden World brings out the best in his...brethren. I DO hate Eldar, though, you've done us all a favor, and killed many birds with one stone. You've earned som extra for that." 
Cortain coughs through his rebreather, "...Why am I so utterly inversely-surprised?"
"It is, of course, regrettable, that not all survived to sign the contracts, but it is not my intent to get my clients killed," Korst'la says, "Regardless, you have my thanks."
"How many were aboard the lost Arvus?" Cyril asks.
"And more to the point, where is Thexus?" Cortain continues.
"I am unsure, four, maybe five? I would think what matters is so many more survived," Korst'la shrugs over vox,  "Ah, and before I forget, I don't suppose you know of a Kroot, named Thrax?" Korst'la asks, "He just boarded my ship from your own. He sends his regards, and says he thanks you for the gifts."
"... what gifts?" is the collective reply from all four Commandos.
"I don't know, I didn't ask," Korst'la said, "I assumed you had given him a parting token or so?"
"No. He was not authorised to take anything from our ship," Brynjol says icily.
"Well isn't that an awkward turn of events," Korst'la shrugs, "Well, until next time. My regards, Republican Commandos!"
Cyril nods curtly and cuts the transmission.

"If he kidnapped Thexus I swear to the Omnissiah I will...!" Cortain begins, before the Commandos all look outside. Something is beginning to glow outside as the Commandos by the wrecks of the Dragonships.

"...what is that glow?" Cyril asks, "All hands, lock sensoria!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uowr5SjE38k

Outside, the Aurora light cruiser tumbles through space, careening towards one of the wrecks.
"...Ah. Well done, Executor," Cyril says softly.
Perhaps most concerningly is the eerie blue-green smoke it is trailing into the void.
"What the blazes is that?" Brynjol demands.
The Aurora crashes into the Dragonship, careening into a halt.
"Exactly, Brynjol," Cyril begins laughing, "If ever there was an appropriate situation for Phosphex..."

Blade Augurs pick up Executor Thexus as he punches his way out of the Aurora's bridge and lands on the Dragonship wreckage. He is trailing phosphex flames.
"CONSUL, OBJECTIVE COMPLETE. I REQUEST RETRIEVAL."
"Stylish," Brynjol concedes.
"Ideal for boarding actions, really," Cyril says, ordering a transport to retrieve the Executor, "Re-entry will prevent it from surviving to ruin the world below, but the xeno ships' crews are not so warded."
"INCORRECT, CONSUL. THE VESSEL HAS BEEN SET TO IMPACT THE WORLD. THE PHOSPHEX WILL SURVIVE RE-ENTRY. THE ELDAR SHALL NOT CLAIM THIS WORLD."
Cyril loses feeling in his superhuman throat.

"Of course they shall not. We killed them; this world is the Imperium's!" Cyril yells, recomposing himself, "BLADE OF THE LONG WATCH! WEAPONS HOT; CARVE THAT SHIP APART BEFORE IT CAN BREACH THE ATMOSPHERE!"
A Squat is sent out to retrieve Thexus, as the Aurora begins its death spiral into Garden World Nemi.
"Well, that would be one way to clean a plague," Cortain acknowledges.
"Lad, we HAVE received an emergency request," Rockfist says, trying to rapidly change the subject, "It's from the Inquisition."

Cortain takes a moment to review the contact as Cyril rushes to the weapons. It seems there is a massive emergency on Cataclysm, HQ of the Inquisition. One of their Storage Domes on the world, where they store their really bad and important stuff, has gone dark. 

"Should we set course, lad?" Rockfist asks.
"Considering the Invictus is there, full speed," Cortain orders.
"Aye, we'll take care of it," Rockfist says.
"And theme of today's mission is," Temur announces, "Thexus does not understand subtlety or restraint."
"He is a destroyer, not a guardian," Cyril reminds him, "But he's the best at what he does, even if what he does isn't very nice."

The Blade immediately begins departure procedures, leaving the pieces of the Aurora to impact a wider area and spread the phosphex faster, much to Cyril's horror and inverse of his intentions. Entering the warp at system's edge, the Inquisition's emergency request is...concerning.

-------------------

"I would not have made half the sales I did today without your help. Why, those Iron Halos alone are projected to increase earnings 8% over the course of the decade!"
"YOU ARE MERELY LUCKY THAT THE DESIGNATE INQUISITORS CONSIDER YOU A PROTECTORATE."
"Of course. I make myself useful, I'm left alone. But let us discuss things further."

Thexus remains silent, as he stares into the holilithic terminal.

"It's not often that the House of Korst'la owes a favor to someone."
"THEN YOU ALREADY KNOW I REQUIRE SOMETHING IN RETURN."
"I would not be a good businessman if I did not. You want something, important enough to sell me all these schematics."
"YOU ARE CORRECT."

Korst'la leans back.

"Well then, how can the House of Korst'la assist you?"
"IT IS CLEAR THE CONSULS ARE DOING THEIR BEST. HOWEVER, THEY ARE OUTNUMBERED AND CANNOT BE EVERYWHERE AT ONCE."
"This is true. You have a solution?"
"AUXILIA ARE NEEDED, STRONG OF BODY, SHARP OF MIND, PURE OF SPIRIT. IN THE FUTURE, I WILL CALL UPON YOU TO ACQUIRE THESE."
Korst'la leans forward, very deep in thought, crunching numbers on a nearby dataslate.
"A deal is a deal. When it's time, give me a number and a location. I'll take care of the rest."

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