Luka and Orvillea returned to the city as Rachel waged a desperate fight against Flayed Ones in the sewers. Despite Luka's warnings, neither the Planetary Defense Force nor even the Astra Militarum could easily face such foes in those dark, cramped tunnels. After losing three squads, Rachel withdrew her remaining soldiers, fortifying key positions to contain the xenos.
With Chimera armored vehicles and pre-built barricades, the PDF barely held back the Flayed Ones, forcing them into the sewers. Rachel decisively ordered the destruction of the A7-012 sector's sewer connections, sealing the area. As long as the surface held, the xenos were trapped.
The Flayed Ones, repelled, retreated to their lair. Rachel exhaled in relief, the situation temporarily stabilized. Yet, failing her first mission as Luka's deputy stung her pride. Still, she wasn't one to sacrifice lives for ego. Composing herself, she contacted Luka via vox-bead.
"Governor, bad news. The xenos are entrenched in the sewers. My troops can't fight effectively there. We need support," she reported, subtly requesting aid.
Luka wasn't surprised. If Flayed Ones were easy, the Necrons wouldn't have once ruled the galaxy. Only Battle Sisters or Astartes—perhaps elite Tempestus Scions—could match them. In tabletop terms, a 10-man Flayed One squad scored 120 points, equal to a 10-man Sororitas squad, while a 20-man Militarum squad was only 110. In reality, Flayed Ones would shred most infantry. Only elite units like Cadian Shock Troops or Mordian Iron Guard could match their precision. The Valhallan Ice Warriors on Rostov II, known for grit and anti-Ork prowess, were outclassed by their PDF counterparts.
"No surprise. Those xenos are tough. We lost a Battle Sister too. Don't engage directly—just contain them for now. I'll handle the rest," Luka ordered. "Seal off A7-012, evacuate civilians, and minimize losses. Also, send a regiment to the mine. The xenos ruins below are dangerous. I've coordinated with Sage Orvillea."
"Yes, Governor!" Rachel relaxed slightly. Luka wasn't a callous leader who'd let the Flayed Ones rampage, preserving her respect for him.
As Rachel secured the sector, Luka and Orvillea reached her forge. Having settled the spoils' division, Luka didn't stop Orvillea from storing the relics in her vault.
As she finished, Luka spoke. "Sage, can you craft a small knife with a disruption field? Decorative, pocket-sized, like a letter opener."
"A power weapon that small? It's tricky. What's the purpose?" Orvillea eyed him, puzzled. Such a weapon was a noble's toy, useless in combat—a status gift.
"A gift to secure allies," Luka said. He had a plan but needed something tangible to sway potential backers. Spending precious points wasn't an option.
Orvillea, though confused, nodded. "Fine. Come back in two days."
"Make a few, if you can. Saves me asking again," Luka added, seeing the knives as ideal gifts—master-crafted by a Mechanicus Sage.
Orvillea agreed with a huff, promising ornate designs. Outside her obsession with relics and revenge, she was surprisingly reasonable. Luka wondered if he'd misjudged her but decided to keep his distance. She was still a tech-priest with a vendetta, and his strength wasn't enough to entangle too deeply.
The tomb raid, while not overly lucrative, had yielded a massive haul for Orvillea. Luka felt he'd done right by her. With a polite farewell, he withdrew his consciousness from the Warhammer world.
(To be continued)