“Checkmate,” Inquisitor Stella stated.

Belestine the Living Saint did not like this ‘checkmate’ and proceeded to eviscerate the chess board and table with her chainsword.

“This is a waste of time. We should be laying waste to our enemies,” Belestine said.

Inquisitor Stella sipped her coffee, navigating the fallen chess pieces on the way to the Living Saint’s face. 

“If you want to outmanoeuvre and defeat the enemy, you need to think in five dimensions, not just at what’s in front of you,” Stella said. “For someone with healing tears, you should understand consequences better than anyone.”

Belestine nodded, hardly listening. “Speaking of technical jargon, the Canoness was looking for you.”

“Why?”

Belestine shrugged. “Something about detecting Gauss weapons atomising the local fauna and Tetra-wave signals interfering with local cluster communications? I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. I am fairly certain it was code-speak for something.”

*

An hour later, Inquisitor Stella looked over the holographic readout alongside Canoness Clair aboard their temporary command center on the edge of the city. Small red dots paraded around the 3D generated map, occasionally blipping in and out of existence. Stella took a long drag of her cigarette, blowing smoke over the map, like a fog of war.

“Yeah, those are Necron signatures, alright. Funny story, I used to ride with a Necron called Greg. You see, a whimsical Rogue Trader masqueraded it around as a Servitor and…”

The Canoness stared blankly at the Inquisitor. 

“Actually, it’s not very funny. Heresy et cetera, et cetera.” Stella finished promptly.

“Inquisitor,” Canoness Clair said. “Those affronts to the God Emperor’s image are desecrating consecrated ground. The Cathedral has been atomised. Sunday service is cancelled.”

Stella took another drag of her cigarette, nodding.

“I’m certainly not one to question the Inquisition’s orders,” the Canoness continued. “I know there’s no end to hidden vaults and relics on the surface that need attending to, but do you not think this heralds priority?”

“You know, I do security checks all over the system. And with the exception of Armageddon, this planet has the worst security in this corner of the galaxy. I’m not surprised Necrons have snuck onto Sangua Terra to atomise some churches. Priority is a precious thing and would be better served alongside some more preventative measures when it comes to invasion.”

“Inquisitor, what are you preaching?”

“Nothing. Pack your flamers,” Stella said, stubbing out her cigarette on the battle map. “But if you come across a Necron called Greg, let me know. His traitorous little metal arse is mine.”

*

As another church crumbled, stained glass shattering all over the streets below, Inquisitor Stella watched at a safe distance. The sky was several shades of tesseract green, filled with warp energy and alight with explosions.

Stella stubbed out her cigarette on the armour of the Living Saint beside her. Failure after failure for the Imperium had led to this moment. Inquisitors didn’t easily accept defeat, but the outlook for Sangua Terra wasn’t looking too bright.

“What’s next, Inquisitor?” Saint Belestine asked.

“Well, obviously this situation only calls for one thing,” Stella answered, rubbing her chin. “Exterminatus.”

“You’re jumping straight to Exterminatus? For a few undead evil servitors?”

“Necrons are not to be trifled with, and with the forces of chaos and opportunistic xeno looters ravaging the planet, it’s better to rip off the band-aid right now,” Stella said, lighting her tenth cigarette of the day. “However, such a resolution comes with its own difficulties.”

“How so?”

“While I have the authority to request it, I am missing a key ingredient. The launch codes for the one ship in orbit which has the firepower. The commander of that ship was killed and someone stole the launch codes. We detected an escape pod that crashed somewhere in this area. We get the launch codes back and into orbit, then we’re golden.”

Stella stamped out her spare cigarettes for dramatic effect. “We’ll deal with getting into orbit later. For now, that leaves us to retrieve the lost launch codes. Think you have it in you to do that, Belestine?”

Belestine stood up straight. “Yes, I will fight the Necron leader.”

“That’s not what I asked of you.”

“I will take the fight to those heathen machines.”

“Belestine, I beg of you. Please obey my command.”

“By the will of the Emperor’s light, I will drive this Holy Eviscerator into its necrodermic maw.”

“Okay, see you later, I guess.”

*

Greg, an ancient Necron, free from all his obligations, had been floating around the Nachmund Gauntlet. In his quest to find ancient Archeo-Poetry (which had the power to make even a Necron feel things again), he ended up aboard an Imperium Battle Cruiser.

Greg blended in as a servitor once again (his Rogue Trader Entourage papers still worked), which gave him time to locate a library on Sangua Terra which held such poetry. But once rumours of a possible Exterminatus went around, Greg knew he had to do something.

*

Greg clambered out of the escape pod, Exterminatus Launch Codes in hand. He crawled out of the hold and suddenly noticed that he was surrounded by Necron Warriors with the markings of the Shakhana Dynasty. This was trouble. Would they be able to tell he was a Fake Necron who was independent from any Dynasty?! Greg tossed the launch codes back in the hole and acted casual.

“How do you do, fellow Necrons?”

Nearby, Watch Master Brando Prerogativitus, directed his Kill Team to hold off the Canopyek Wraiths and the Skorpekh Destroyers, but they were happily cleaving through his men.

“Brother, no! Hold on brother! Think of the Emperor! Death to Xenos! Brotherrrrrerrrr!”

High above, Saint Belestine saw her target, a Skorpekh Lord, bulldozing through the Death Watch. She flew down, Eviserator chain sword at the ready. A worthy fight once again! … This was the sixth death of the Saint.

*

The cathedral was a warzone. Thankfully, the Battle Sisters had bought the Inquisitor some precious time to search for the Exterminatus Launch Codes. Stella got bulldozed by a a towering Wraith and decided to play dead. After they moved in, she followed the signal on her scanner, sliding deftly into a hole which led to the catacombs. The scorch marks boded well – it was likely that the escape pod had landed here, hopefully the one containing the captain of the artillery ship in orbit.

Lighting another cigarette, the inquisitor followed a spiral staircase, laid with skulls, deeper. A low hum became more prominent the deeper she went. She was not alone.

The catacombs opened up into a cave. Torches out the walls and the outline of an escape pod which had shattered a mausoleum in the center. Standing 7 feet tall and prying off the escape pod door was a Necron Chronomancer, glowing prismatic pink from within.

Stella took a deep breath. If only her old Rogue Trader friend were here, she was excellent at negotiating with Xenos. 

“Do you follow the rules of Parley?” Stella shouted out, gripping her bolter in case the answer was a resounding no.

Klotophis, a Chronomancer of the Shakhana Dynasty, eyed the bloodied and bruised Inquisitor standing before them.

“Rudimentary. Why would I humble myself to such a thing as parley?” Klotophis grumbled, every passing second a waste of time. 

Stella ran her hand through her hair, feeling her psyker implants, which were hot and overloaded. “We can make a deal. I need the contents of that escape pod.”

“Ah yes, the Exterminatus Launch Codes. You wish to blow up this world with orbital bombardment, crack the mantle with.. with explosives?! It is so… basic,” Klotophis replied. “And that broken Necron you were so desperately trying to retrieve-“

“Greg!” Stella mumbled. So he was alive…

“We will… fix or dispose of it for you. Now our conversation is concluded.”

The cavern began crumbling. The Paragon Warsuits were causing havoc above, enough of a distraction for Stella to run. The catacomb tunnels collapsed, but before they did, Stella grabbed her pack of cigarettes from under the archway.

It was a long dog to the sewers, but Stella was no stranger to wading through big piles of shit. 

“I don’t get paid enough for this.”