Alex Emry planned to head straight for the extraction point. He climbed out of the trench and ran toward the hive city. Hand in the guns, job done.
The grain station was still echoing with gunfire and explosions. The rebels didn't have much in the way of heavy weapons—there was no way they could deal with a Chimera armoured transport. The insurgents there were in for a very bad night.
Alex melted into the darkness, choosing low ground whenever possible and keeping his ears open for distant movement, careful not to blunder into other armed forces.
At some point, the gunfire from the grain station stopped. Alex figured the rebels had been wiped out and the Planetary Defence Force was now sweeping the battlefield.
Next time he deployed, he could check the grain station. There might be valuable items left behind.
As he was thinking that, a low, chaotic noise began approaching from behind. At first, Alex didn't notice—it was faint—but gradually it grew louder.
Something was wrong.
He immediately picked up his pace and silently prayed the sound wasn't coming for him.
Bad luck.
It was a Chimera armoured personnel carrier.
It had finished off the rebels at the grain station and was now charging straight toward Alex's position. Two massive headlights and searchlamps swept over the land like hunting eyes.
"Emperor, damn it!"
Alex swore and sprinted at full speed. His stamina bar plummeted as the seven rifles strapped to his body bounced violently.
But under heavy encumbrance, there was no way he could outrun a tracked vehicle. The roar of the engine closed in rapidly—he could practically smell the propellant fumes from its weapons.
His stamina dropped dangerously low. Behind him came a mechanical clack-clack—the unmistakable sound of a turret rotating and locking on.
Panic surged.
Out of the corner of his eye, Alex spotted an irrigation canal. With the last of his strength, he dove into it, vanishing below ground level.
But it was only delaying the inevitable.
The surrounding area was open farmland—flat plains as far as the eye could see. There was nowhere to run. He could only hide in the canal.
The thunder of the Chimera's tracks grew closer.
Alex's life entered its final countdown.
He stared at the seven autoguns hanging from his body, his eyes full of regret. Death meant redeployment—but the weapons would definitely be recovered by the PDF.
That would be a massive loss.
What puzzled him was this: the Chimera had already cleared the grain station. Why had it come back?It was almost as if it knew he was here.
"Emperor's Throne—auspex!"
Alex smacked his forehead in frustration.
An auspex was a standard Imperial reconnaissance device in Warhammer 40,000—similar to radar—used to scan terrain, atmospheric conditions, and enemy presence.
Portable auspex units could be carried by individual soldiers, capable of scanning several hundred metres to over a kilometre. Voidship-grade auspex arrays could survey entire planets.
A Chimera would typically mount a vehicle-scale auspex—more than enough to scan a battlefield three to ten kilometres across.
The Chimera must have swept the grain station, checked its auspex, and noticed a hostile contact still registering near the trenches.
One glance at the display—Oh? A red blip?—and the driver slammed the accelerator.
"Damn it… forget it. Next run."
Alex sighed as the Chimera came to a halt a few dozen metres away. He climbed out of the canal.
He'd never been killed by a 40mm autocannon before.Strangely enough, he was a little curious.
He stood upright on the open ground. The Chimera's headlights flooded his vision, blinding him completely.
Refusing to lose face, Alex planted his hands on his hips and shouted:
"Come on! Fire already! If I even grunt, I'm not a real man!"
He tensed his muscles, ready to savour the experience of a 40mm shell.
Seconds passed.
Nothing.
No cannon fire. No gunshots.
Only the headlights burning into his eyes.
Alex waited, confused.What's this? Trying to capture me?
His expression changed instantly.
He wasn't afraid of death—but torture was another matter. If they mistook him for a rebel and dragged him back for interrogation, that would be unbearable.
As his thoughts spiralled, he reached for one of the rifles, preparing to end it himself and redeploy.
Then the Chimera's headlights switched off, leaving only its dim running lights.
Alex rubbed his eyes as his vision slowly returned and looked at the vehicle.
It was a slab of Imperial steel, painted in grey-green camouflage, with the PDF insignia clearly marked on its armour.
Its armament included a hull-mounted heavy stubber at the front, and a turret-mounted 40mm autocannon above.
Other Chimera variants might mount multilasers, heavy bolters, or even missile systems—but this agricultural world clearly couldn't afford more advanced configurations.
Alex clicked his tongue in appreciation as he examined the vehicle.
Then—clack—a hatch opened on the turret. A PDF soldier leaned halfway out.
A familiar face.
A few minutes later, the Chimera was heading back toward the PDF defensive lines near the hive city.
Inside the troop compartment lay two dead PDF soldiers on the floor. Five seats were occupied—three by wounded troopers quietly groaning, and the other two by Alex Emry and Lieutenant Rudson.
Alex glanced at Rudson's left hand. The last time they'd met, Alex had saved his life—but his hand had been destroyed.
Now it had been replaced with a crude mechanical augment.
His rank had changed, too.
Lieutenant.A PDF company commander.
This night raid on the rebels had been his operation—one hundred and twenty PDF infantry and a single Chimera, striking two insurgent strongholds under cover of darkness.
Alex looked Rudson up and down.Rudson did the same.
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Alex couldn't take it anymore.
"Well, look at you—promoted already. Congratulations. So when are you buying me a drink?"
Rudson's eyelid twitched as he stared at the seven rebel autoguns hanging from Alex's chest.
"You know that illegal possession of weapons carries the death penalty, right?"
Alex laughed.
"Then the entire underhive should be lined up and shot."
Silence returned.
Alex was confident Rudson wouldn't do anything. He was PDF, not Astra Militarum—and Alex had saved his life. At most, Rudson would turn a blind eye.
The PDF were the planetary governor's guard dogs—stationed on one world their entire lives.In blunt terms: local forces.
If this had been the Astra Militarum, Alex would've killed himself on the spot.
The Imperial Guard were the Emperor's true hammer. Break the law in front of them, and a Commissar's bolt pistol would be aimed at your skull without hesitation.
When Rudson didn't even confiscate the guns, Alex knew the debt still mattered.
He lit a cigarette and said casually, like giving directions to a rideshare driver:
"Drop me off twenty kilometres west."
A few minutes later, the Chimera stopped several kilometres from a ventilation shaft extraction point.
Alex jumped down, weapons on his back, brushing the smell of gunpowder from his clothes.
He turned back toward Rudson inside the troop bay.
"Let me reintroduce myself. I'm Alex Emry. A battlefield scavenger. I specialise in finding high-value items—and I can handle jobs others can't."
He shrugged.
"So. Got any work you can't officially touch?"
Rudson met his gaze, eyes hard.
After a moment, he spoke in a low voice:
"Some of my comrades died fighting the rebels. Their bodies are in zones still under insurgent control. We don't always get the chance to bring them home.
"That bastard planetary governor… a greedy, filthy rat.
"The compensation he offers is pitiful—and even that is hard to claim. Without identification tags, their families won't receive a single throne gelt.
"If you come across the bodies of my men while scavenging… bring back their dog tags.
"I'll make things easier for you."