Continued from here:

"Ah, Eklius. I remember him. Isn't he the one who died and then became a machine spirit? Quite an unusual way to come back from the dead? But to be honest, I am glad Darius gets to have him around. Those two seem to be close friends."

Her mood gradually calmed down as a result of Drifak steering the conversation away from anything nurglite. Still, she figured out it would be a good idea to reasure the scout.

"By the way, even if I got mad over you know who, you do not need to worry about me making a scene. I am not going to wreck anything, ok? No matter how angry I get."

For a brief moment, she winced as she remembered those times in her youth where she thrashed rooms whenever she was in a foul mood.

"Now, going back on topic, you said the Sixty gave their lives to evacuate sixty thousand refugees? That is a noble sacrifice, let me tell you. Unfortunately, that mentality seems to be unusual on our kind."

She let out a long-suffering sigh, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"The things the Iron Hands and Marines Malevolent do to civilians are a good example of the opposite attitude. It is as if mortals were bugs to them."

“Father is not a cruel man, and he teaches us that we are defenders of humanity. And that killing nobles is alright sometimes. Good chance they deserve it. And yes! Eklius is Father’s greatest friend.”

"It is good that he is not a cruel man. The universe is too full of them. I know from experience. The long-gone Frateris Templar are some of the ones I had the displeasure of meeting. And yes, nobles are another. Specially because they adore using the lower classes as playthings. More than once I have had to take care of those poor souls after the high-born were done with them."

“Father’s partner, Bahram, he used to be a menial in the Mechanicus. It took a while for Bahram to jump or hide whenever he heard angry voices or yelling.” Drifak says quietly.

“I know it’s just as bad in regular Imperial Society.”

"I remember Bahram once said his mother died bringing him into world because of a faulty cybernetic implant. Like, the mechanicus actually put it in her on purpose. Why? Because she was a menial, her life was worthless. Meanwhile, the techpriests and magii kept the best ones for themselves. Fucking hell. And I am quite aware Bahram didn't have the best life. Poor thing was skin and bones when I met him. The wind could have easily carried him away."

Continued from here:

"Ah, Eklius. I remember him. Isn't he the one who died and then became a machine spirit? Quite an unusual way to come back from the dead? But to be honest, I am glad Darius gets to have him around. Those two seem to be close friends."

Her mood gradually calmed down as a result of Drifak steering the conversation away from anything nurglite. Still, she figured out it would be a good idea to reasure the scout.

"By the way, even if I got mad over you know who, you do not need to worry about me making a scene. I am not going to wreck anything, ok? No matter how angry I get."

For a brief moment, she winced as she remembered those times in her youth where she thrashed rooms whenever she was in a foul mood.

"Now, going back on topic, you said the Sixty gave their lives to evacuate sixty thousand refugees? That is a noble sacrifice, let me tell you. Unfortunately, that mentality seems to be unusual on our kind."

She let out a long-suffering sigh, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"The things the Iron Hands and Marines Malevolent do to civilians are a good example of the opposite attitude. It is as if mortals were bugs to them."

“Father is not a cruel man, and he teaches us that we are defenders of humanity. And that killing nobles is alright sometimes. Good chance they deserve it. And yes! Eklius is Father’s greatest friend.”

"It is good that he is not a cruel man. The universe is too full of them. I know from experience. The long-gone Frateris Templar are some of the ones I had the displeasure of meeting. And yes, nobles are another. Specially because they adore using the lower classes as playthings. More than once I have had to take care of those poor souls after the high-born were done with them."

Continued from here:

"Ah, Eklius. I remember him. Isn't he the one who died and then became a machine spirit? Quite an unusual way to come back from the dead? But to be honest, I am glad Darius gets to have him around. Those two seem to be close friends."

Her mood gradually calmed down as a result of Drifak steering the conversation away from anything nurglite. Still, she figured out it would be a good idea to reasure the scout.

"By the way, even if I got mad over you know who, you do not need to worry about me making a scene. I am not going to wreck anything, ok? No matter how angry I get."

For a brief moment, she winced as she remembered those times in her youth where she thrashed rooms whenever she was in a foul mood.

"Now, going back on topic, you said the Sixty gave their lives to evacuate sixty thousand refugees? That is a noble sacrifice, let me tell you. Unfortunately, that mentality seems to be unusual on our kind."

She let out a long-suffering sigh, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"The things the Iron Hands and Marines Malevolent do to civilians are a good example of the opposite attitude. It is as if mortals were bugs to them."

Continued from here:

Drifak's reaction didn't go unnoticed to Akhenaten. "Look, I understand why you panicked. It took me a long time to get used to my new appereance. Heck, I even worried about breaking mirrors for years. But at least you did not throw boiling coffee at me, so we are good. And yes, even with our kind's accelerated healing it hurts a lot and leaves grevious injuries." She avoided mentioning she turned the offender into mincemeat.

"So you were born on the fleet? For how long has your family been in it?"

“On my mother’s side, she was the first one. On my dad’s side it was my grandfather. The one who’s a Felinid.”

Drifak makes a snort. “Although I suppose now my grandfather is Mortarion.”

"Ah, so chances are it was your grandfather who came from Carlos McConnell. And as for Mortarion being your new grandfather, well, I get how you feel. We are related to people like Abaddon the Despoiler, Fabius Bile, Huron Blackheart, Typhus, and Eidolon The Auric Hammer. But it's not all bad. There's also people like Saul Tarvitz and Uriel Ventris.", she shrugged.

“No I mean Mortarion is my grandfather in the way that Darius is my father. He started this chapter with his own progenoids. He started our geneseed line by himself. After everything he’s…he’s practically become a primarch. So while I am in a way related to Abaddon and such…my Father is the Revenant of Istvaan III, the last loyalist Death Guard.” Drifak says, impassioned.

"So he started his own geneseed line? I wonder how he pulled that off. But I wouldn't be surprised if he managed to get the adecuate contacts and resources through the years. He has been around for a long time. Chances are he is even older than me. I was born in 883, M30. And by the way, please do not crack jokes about how I am older than the first cities and the wheel. I am so done with that."

The sound of coming footsteps made Akhen put the glamour necklace back on. A few moments later some serfs walked in front of the two astartes.

"I am aware of what Darius is. All the others are rotten apples, like Typhus. I believe you already know how he loves travelling along the galaxy spreading his plagues. I have personal reasons to hate him. He killed my friends. But I will not kill him. Darius himself told me that right is his and his alone."

Though her voice remained civil, one could see the fury in her eyes. For anything nurglite sent her into fits of rage.

Continued from here:

Drifak's reaction didn't go unnoticed to Akhenaten. "Look, I understand why you panicked. It took me a long time to get used to my new appereance. Heck, I even worried about breaking mirrors for years. But at least you did not throw boiling coffee at me, so we are good. And yes, even with our kind's accelerated healing it hurts a lot and leaves grevious injuries." She avoided mentioning she turned the offender into mincemeat.

"So you were born on the fleet? For how long has your family been in it?"

“On my mother’s side, she was the first one. On my dad’s side it was my grandfather. The one who’s a Felinid.”

Drifak makes a snort. “Although I suppose now my grandfather is Mortarion.”

"Ah, so chances are it was your grandfather who came from Carlos McConnell. And as for Mortarion being your new grandfather, well, I get how you feel. We are related to people like Abaddon the Despoiler, Fabius Bile, Huron Blackheart, Typhus, and Eidolon The Auric Hammer. But it's not all bad. There's also people like Saul Tarvitz and Uriel Ventris.", she shrugged.

Continued from here:

Drifak's reaction didn't go unnoticed to Akhenaten. "Look, I understand why you panicked. It took me a long time to get used to my new appereance. Heck, I even worried about breaking mirrors for years. But at least you did not throw boiling coffee at me, so we are good. And yes, even with our kind's accelerated healing it hurts a lot and leaves grevious injuries." She avoided mentioning she turned the offender into mincemeat.

"So you were born on the fleet? For how long has your family been in it?"

"Ah, I see. Well, I wish you the best of luck in your studies. The career of an apothecary is a challenging but rewarding one. I do remember my beginnings a long time ago. I am a biomancer, so it was necessary for me to become medically trained so as to avoid things like turning my insides into outsides. I had to study for years until I was allowed to modify myself."

A sad smile formed on Akhenaten's face. Those days were long gone, just as Prospero was.

"Makes sense. Fuck up with biomancy too much and you die in horrible agony, or so I've been told. I'm not a psyker."

Two fluffly triangular ears suddenly perk up from where they were laying flat on his head, the same color as his hair.

Drifak looks around. "I hear a fly." He mutters.

Akhenaten tilted her head. She could also hear the fly. "Ah yes, a pesky fly. I never liked them, to be honest. I'd rather feed them to my carnivorous plants." Her attention then went back to Drifak. "Oh, so you are felinid? Now that's unusual. So, are you from Carlos McConnell?"

The annoying fly landed on Drifak's ear. A few seconds later it dropped to the floor, dead. "I used biomancy to turn off its brain. Easiest way to get rid of them. Else I would have to chance them with a flyswatter."

“From…who? And only kind of. My grandfather was a Felinid. I’m a bit of an experiment. I wanted to be an Astartes more than anything. Gallus and Eklius were pretty thorough in their research, getting everything ready so I could actually survive the implants.” Drifak says with a small smile. His teeth are more pointed and sharp than normal.

His ears flick a little. “Sorry if the ah…mutant…bit makes you uncomfortable. There’s a reason the ears are flat most of the time.”

"Oh. Carlos McConnell is the name of the planet from where felinids come from. It possibly was named after the person who discovered. You said you wanted to become an astartes more than anything, right? Well, I am glad your dream became true. And as for the mutant part...look I am the least qualified person to judge."

She took a look around to check if someone was around. When the biomancer saw none, she proceeded to remove the glamour necklace around her neck.

What could be described as an eldritch elderly astartes stood before Drifak. "I am way more mutated than you. To the point some people have mistaken me for a daemon or a xenos. As for why I am like this, it is the flesh change. I was on the verge of turning into chaos spawn when a warp entity saved me. But they could only interrupt the transformation, not undo it.", she shook her head.

"Ah, I see. Well, I wish you the best of luck in your studies. The career of an apothecary is a challenging but rewarding one. I do remember my beginnings a long time ago. I am a biomancer, so it was necessary for me to become medically trained so as to avoid things like turning my insides into outsides. I had to study for years until I was allowed to modify myself."

A sad smile formed on Akhenaten's face. Those days were long gone, just as Prospero was.

"Makes sense. Fuck up with biomancy too much and you die in horrible agony, or so I've been told. I'm not a psyker."

Two fluffly triangular ears suddenly perk up from where they were laying flat on his head, the same color as his hair.

Drifak looks around. "I hear a fly." He mutters.

Akhenaten tilted her head. She could also hear the fly. "Ah yes, a pesky fly. I never liked them, to be honest. I'd rather feed them to my carnivorous plants." Her attention then went back to Drifak. "Oh, so you are felinid? Now that's unusual. So, are you from Carlos McConnell?"

The annoying fly landed on Drifak's ear. A few seconds later it dropped to the floor, dead. "I used biomancy to turn off its brain. Easiest way to get rid of them. Else I would have to chance them with a flyswatter."

"Ah, I see. Well, I wish you the best of luck in your studies. The career of an apothecary is a challenging but rewarding one. I do remember my beginnings a long time ago. I am a biomancer, so it was necessary for me to become medically trained so as to avoid things like turning my insides into outsides. I had to study for years until I was allowed to modify myself."

A sad smile formed on Akhenaten's face. Those days were long gone, just as Prospero was.

Continued from here:

Noel was about to ask who was the person singing that tune, when he noticed the ring on Oswyn's finger. Of all the people who could have entered the shop, a high-ranking ecclesiarchy member wasn't one of them. The man's pale face worried him. "Is there anyone who wants to hurt you? Because you look like you are in deep trouble."

The whistling kept getting closer. They had to get out there soon. He grabbed the bolt pistol and the dagger which were underneath his desk. "I'm following you. You might have better chances defeating whoever is coming after you. I don't know what one of the ecclesiarchy's big wigs is doing in a non-imperial corner of the Koronus Expanse, but I have the feeling you angered one of your colleagues."

“Former. And more than one,” was the curt reply. The old mercenary leaned out from a tall shipping container, using the scope on his pistol to check the approaching gang; three humans and an Ogryn, all dressed in ragged leather and piecemeal combat gear.

Oswyn snorted. “Mad enough to have me killed, but not enough to hire a professional. Idiots.”

Noel wondered about what the man could have possibly done to piss people enough to send assassins after him, but there was not time for questions. "How familiar are you with this zone? Because we could hide in the tunnels and launch an ambush from there."

He went to where Oswyn was and looked out the window. The Ogryn would definitely give them trouble. There was a reason why the Imperial Guard liked using them agaisnt space marines.

"Let's go. There's a secret door on the basement through which we can exit this place. Follow me." And with this he left.

Continued from here:

Noel was about to ask who was the person singing that tune, when he noticed the ring on Oswyn's finger. Of all the people who could have entered the shop, a high-ranking ecclesiarchy member wasn't one of them. The man's pale face worried him. "Is there anyone who wants to hurt you? Because you look like you are in deep trouble."

The whistling kept getting closer. They had to get out there soon. He grabbed the bolt pistol and the dagger which were underneath his desk. "I'm following you. You might have better chances defeating whoever is coming after you. I don't know what one of the ecclesiarchy's big wigs is doing in a non-imperial corner of the Koronus Expanse, but I have the feeling you angered one of your colleagues."

Noel lifted his gaze from the book he was reading when he heard the man's voice. To be fair, he wasn't expecting company. "The person in charge of this place had to get out for some days. I am just here to take care of the place. Is there anything you are looking for? I may be of assistance."

He laid a strip of leather on the page he'd stopped so as not to lose it, and then closed the book and place it on the table beside him.

Oswyn shook his head. “I’m afraid not, son. To tell you the truth, I only slipped in here for some privacy. There are some…unsavory characters in this city, and I’d like to avoid them if I can.”

He placed the vial back into its display stand.

“I won’t let them hurt the store, though. You have my word.”

Unsavory characters. The words caught Noel's attention. What kind of malicious people might be lurking in the city, and what were they after? And what were the chances that they would direct their attention to this corner of Summernight City? Depending on their numbers and how well they were armed, the chances of the store surviving might be low.

And what about himself? He'd rather keep on living, thank you very much.

"Who are these people? Are they looking for you? And most importantly, how dangerous are they?"

He hoped he wouldn't have to call Achilles and his team to deal with the menace. The poor shop wouldn't survive them being unleashed. Worse, he hated the idea of his friend losing something she'd built with a lot of effort and sacrifice.

Noel lifted his gaze from the book he was reading when he heard the man's voice. To be fair, he wasn't expecting company. "The person in charge of this place had to get out for some days. I am just here to take care of the place. Is there anything you are looking for? I may be of assistance."

He laid a strip of leather on the page he'd stopped so as not to lose it, and then closed the book and place it on the table beside him.

Akhenaten tilted her head. She wondered if the night lord was more of the depressive kind. From what she had heard, some night lords fitted that profile.

"You seem to be the doom and gloom kind, not gonna lie. Those friends of mine who've met you say that. Like Samantha."

She shrugged. "But maybe being doom and gloom is more of an apothecary thing. The kind of things we see in medical practice..."

Continued from here:

[[flashforward]]

Achilles, Artyom and Ana stood before Noel. The three men were in an intense conversation about how they would weaken the imperial loyalists from within. As someone who was deeply involved in the defense of psykers and mutants, Noel often had to deal with those who came from imperial communities. Those people knew well the depths of the hypocrisy and idiocy present in the Imperial Cult. Even better, they were dissilussioned with it.

What better way to deal a death blow to the imperial loyalists who'd been a thorn on the side of the system for too long?