McKenzie looked up sharp from his ponderings. He'd been monitoring Charleston's brainwaves, and a wave of stress had just gone through the man's head. And McKenzie knew why. He didn't have to turn to McGranth; the grand commander had seen the psyker's sudden movement. McGranth almost felt a bit ashamed that he found it joyful that something finally happened. After all, he'd spent a lifetime fighting the enemies of mankind, and he didn't know much else than how to lay up a battle plan that couldn't fail.

"Okay," McGranth said to no one in particular. "Seems Charleston has gotten into a bit of a situation. Commissar, you assist me and McKenzie, you others stay out of the way, as good as you can." He could think of much else right now, he needed to see the enemy first, to get an even better order from his lips, but this would suffice for now.

The group followed McKenzie, whom quickly made his way towards the star port. The slender Marine had pulled out both bolt pistol and force sword. The blade of the psychic weapon shone with a bright blue colour and McKenzie unlocked the safety lock on the bolt pistol, thumbing in a different kind of ammunition than the common bolts. Rolf took up a rear guard, the Yarrickian sword held two-handed.

When they arrived at the star port, they saw what Charleston was fighting. Necrontyr warriors and tiny Scarabs overwhelmed the big Marine. Rolf moved up to support the others and the kids took refuge behind another Thunderhawk.

"Ed! Get the frekk out of our line of fire!" McGranth shouted. Without warning, Charleston activated the thrusters of his jump pack and flew out of the way, so that McKenzie and McGranth could fire their bolt weapons at the mechanoids. Controlled bursts of Kraken Penetrators burst they head of many Necrons on sprays of oil and otherworldly fluids. McKenzie noticed the tiny, beetle-like Scarab attached to Charleston's leg before it had the chance to detonate itself, and McKenzie destroyed it with a psychic impel. Drawing his force sword, he joined the fray together with his Grand Commander, Charleston and Rolf. Swinging left and right with his sword, he cut off arms and severed torsos from legs, but the Necrons repaired themselves. McKenzie ducked away from the glaive of one of the mechanoids. This was not good.

McGranth attacked the Necrons with sheer force, slamming down his massive power axe into the head of one of the glaive-armed warriors. The shots of the Necrons and the hacks from their strange knives didn't do more than scratch his ancient suit of Terminator Armour. He made a quick glance around the "battle-field" and immediately saw that this wasn't good. Changing clip in his storm bolter in a matter of seconds, he took up new aim and blew twenty or so Scarabs into oblivion. He saw Charleston blowing big holes in the Nercrontyrs' torsos with his plasma pistol, only to see them repaired seconds later. Charleston spun round, thrusting his power sword through the head of one Necron. He didn't see the glaive armed one appear behind him.

"Commander, behind you!" McGranth shouted, feeling a sting in his right shoulder. He looked round, and saw the death's mask that was the face of a Necron Lord. The thing had snuck up on him an unguarded moment...

In the meantime, Charleston spun round and atomised the head of the Necron behind him with a powerful punch of his huge fist. As he did this, he saw Rolf, jumping and dodging the Necrons with ease. Charleston felt a bit awed by the young man's capabilities. He knew how agile and lithe the commissar general had been, refusing to wear armour, as it would hamper his movements, but this boy was almost better. Charleston guessed it was because of the lad's young body.

McKenzie turned when he heard the scream from his grand commander. The mighty Necron Lord was all over him. Focusing, McKenzie sent a surge of electric power through the droid. He hoped he would short-circuit something. He soon found himself joined by another force. It was Edd. The boy joined in with glee it seemed. McKenzie couldn't blame him. He'd also been eager for battle. The time on Terra had been all too calm. He didn't like it so much. Maybe this was something that had been gleaned down to the Space Outlaws as well? McKenzie wasn't sure.

"What do we do?" Ed asked. He wished so he could be out fighting with his friend. Edd was lucky to have psychic powers. He looked at Eddy, as seeking help.

"We get into the Thunderhawk." Eddy replied simply, a stern look on his face. The Nighthawk wasn't long away from where they stood. The sprint would be short and easy. "Let's go!"

With that, Ed and Eddy darted off, taking no heed to the other six cul-de-sac kids. Kevin looked shocked. They were abandoning them?

"I can't believe it... " he murmured to himself. He looked back to the fight. Edd had done something strange with that robot, and he was still firing strange lightning from his hands, and he seemed to enjoy it. Kevin sighed.

"My suggestion is that we follow Ed and Eddy, they seem to know what they're doing." Nazz said and tugged Kevin's arm.

"That is what bothers me," Lee interrupted. "They seem to know so darn much about this... Imperium, it's spooky. I have a feeling our dear Eds know more than we want to think. And just look at Rolf!"

"So," Kevin said, throwing a glance at Rolf, "you're trying to suggest we follow Dork and Dorkky into that ship?"

"Exactly!" Lee said, crossing her arms over her now quite ample bosom. "Because if anyone can help us get this right, it's them."

Kevin considered this for about five seconds. "Let's go then!"

The six sprinted after Ed and Eddy and into the still functioning Thunderhawk named Nighthawk. When they saw the interior, their jaws dropped. It was like nothing they'd ever seen before. The Gothic architecture they'd seen on the outside seemed to have been implemented to the interior of the Thunderhawk. And the manifold sigils on various places spooked them as well. Johnny threw a look on one. He liked languages, and recognised this as something close to Latin, but still not. It seemed hard and... industrial in its construction. Johnny had no idea he was looking at and reading the language of the Adeptus Mechanicus: the Lingua Technis. Meanwhile, Kevin had seated himself on a chair behind Ed, who was sitting in the pilot's seat. The 'Hawk seemed constructed to house twenty or so of the Emperor's finest, i.e. the Space Marines. Ed studied the controls intently.

"Strange, I can't remember how to function this sucker,” he mumbled. "I only remember how to steer."

"So," Eddy said and leaned against the controls, making sure not pressing anything by mistake, "you've no idea what these buttons do?"

"Exactly commander..." Ed replied absently.

"This is not good..." Eddy sighed.

"Wait a second," Marie interrupted. "I have an idea... "

On the outside, McKenzie temporarily froze the Necron Lord with a psychic move and Rolf destroyed the head in a flurry of sparks and super conducting material, as the Yarrickian sword passed through the robotic leader's head. McKenzie was short but amazed at the power of the sword in this youngster's hands. When Commissar General Rolf Yarrick had wielded it, it had been able to pass through Terminator armour with ease. These droids were obviously just as hard nuts as Berzerker Terminators, and the sword responded to every whim of the young man. McKenzie had his thoughts on that there was a speck of Yarrick in Rolf, but how could that be?

Something caught his attention. Snapping his head round to face behind the Necrons' that were attacking. The curious look on face changed to one of terror as he realised what it was that had snapped his attention. He saw the red eyes, the faintly green light from Hellblades and the glittering of brass armour and trims. He saw how the Juggernaught jumped out of the shadows, its rider a two metre tall and inhumanly muscled Bloodletter Knight. Following the Khornate deamon came lesser Bloodletter warriors. The deamons on foot were also about two metres tall and well muscled like their leader, but unlike their leader, they weren't as well armoured. Like it would matter, their skin was tough as iron anyway. Their heads had ebony black horns and their teeth were ivory white. In their clawed hands they held viciously shaped so-called Hellblades, jet-black in colour, but with a faint green glow around them. The swords trailed greenish smoke as well. The Juggernaught the Blood knight rode upon was a four-footed beast. Instead of a normal skin, it had an armoured hull, making it look more bulky than it already was. It also had a neck-shield covering its neck, were the collar was situated. The collar made the Juggernaught and its rider immune to psychic powers; McKenzie knew it. The Juggernaught was black, with brass trims and a lot of spikes. The Juggernaught looked over-all like it was mechanical, but McKenzie knew better.

The small deamonic warband attacked the Necrons with a ferocity that McKenzie hadn't thought was physically possible. The Juggernaught opened its maw and closed it around the leg of a Necron warrior with a sickening crunch. The leg didn't come off and the Juggernaught started to shake its head to loosen the Necron from its leg. Instead of panicking, like any mortal would've, the Necron silently raised its Gauss gun and fired of a shot into the eye of the Juggernaught. This didn't stop the Juggernaught in any way; it only left an ugly hole where one of its eyes had been. Now, the Juggernaught raised one of its massive frontal limbs and crushed the Necron's head underneath its enormous weight. McKenzie didn't know what to do. He had fought deamons before, yes, but these deamons seemed in some way so much more powerful than any deamons he'd ever encountered, like the Dark Gods had adapted towards this new threat. He looked around. Charleston was gone! Where was the big oaf when one needed his strength? McGranth was busy crashing through Necrons, but he soon noticed the new threat he too. He quickly put himself beside Rolf, who'd already engaged a deamon. The young man in the commissar's coat was howling in fury as he attacked the deamon, Rolf Yarrick's memories searing through his mind. McKenzie, so gripped by his thoughts, was knocked to the ground by a deamon that had gotten close to him and now it raised its Hellblade, ready to pierce it through McKenzie's heart...

In the Thunderhawk, the Kankers were busy pressing every button they could. That had been Marie's idea, at least. Ed didn't like it; Thunderhawks could be a bit temperamental, he knew so. May keyed one and a hatch opened above Kevin. Ed noticed.

"You'd better get out of the chair, Kevin." Ed said with a worried look on his face.

"Oh yeah, what do you know about that, dork!" Kevin snapped. The chair was quite comfortable, and he'd grown fond to it.

Lee touched another button. This button sends the chair behind the pilot's high into the air with a roar of its rocket engines.

Ed lay on the floor, over Kevin. He'd thrown the other boy out of the chair nanoseconds before the chair flew up and out of the 'Hawk.

"That's why... " Ed panted forth and rolled off Kevin.

The flying seat didn't go unnoticed on the outside. The Imperial servants ignored it, but the Necrons and deamons didn't. This gave McKenzie a chance to boil the brain of the deamon above him and hurtle it back to the Warp, where it belonged. Edd had ducked for cover behind the Thunderhawk when he saw the deamons arrive and thus didn't technically take part anymore in the skirmish. McGranth plunged his power axe through the heads of the remaining Necrons, incinerating their controller chips with the distortion-field around his weapon. Rolf took the change and plunged at the Blood Knight and sent his silver gleaming sword, which now was largely covered in oil and black deamon blood, through the black heart of the Knight. The thing screamed and retched as the Deamonslayer sword passed through it. Rolf jerked it out and jumped backwards. The Juggernaught got temporarily confused as its master twitched and died upon it. Swinging his sword in a graceful arch, Rolf decapitated the huge deamonic beast. The Juggernaught spasmed and collapsed in a heap, deamon blood spurting from its severed neck and steam oozing out from within its hull. Rolf turned to the other deamons, the warriors and butchers of Khorne, the Bloodletters. In his eyes was the look of hate, in its most pure and raw form. The deamons saw the look. They also saw what the young human was wielding and what it had done to their leader. They looked back at the young man, fear colliding with feelings for revenge and to fulfil their role in Khorne's army; to take skulls and spill blood to His honour.

The deamons settled their dilemma and stormed towards Rolf, howling and baying. Rolf braced himself for the inevitable, but it never came. McKenzie was suddenly at his side and so was McGranth. The two Marines attacked the deamons with a grim determination in their faces, a determination that, Rolf realised, was the look of a true Space Marine, doing his duty.

"What in the name of the Emperor of Mankind are you up to?" Charleston asked the youngsters sourly as he entered the Thunderhawk.

"Nothing!" was Eddy's snapping answer. "Well, at least until Marie here came up with the brilliant idea... "

"Yeah, just make me the scapegoat!" Marie cut off Eddy.

"Doesn't matter who did it." Charleston said, calming down. With a flick of a switch, he closed the hatch above where the seat had been. He pressed another button and a console opened in one of the walls. "I assume you were looking for this."

Charleston gestured towards the console. In there lay lasguns, many lasguns. Ed noted them to be of the standard variant but...

"Why do they have reinforced barrels?" Ed asked as he picked one up and studied it. He picked up a power-clip and slammed it home. He turned a switch on it and heard the pleasant sound of a laser weapon charging up.

"They're hotshots; lasguns that fire a more powerful round, but... it has the downside that it puts stress on the barrel. Therefore the reinforced barrels." Charleston replied. He picked out a bunch of lasguns and loaded them and handed them out to the other kids. "Let's help your friends!"

As Edd crawled into the Thunderhawk, he got a lasgun pressed into his hands and was forced out, into the battle again.

McGranth shoved off a Bloodletter from himself. The thing had tried to bite him. He prepared to meet it with his power axe as a red beam of plasma stabbed into it. The deamon exploded and covered McGranth in filth. He was going to need a bath after this. He turned his head and saw Charleston storming towards the deamons, the nine other kids in tow, lasguns spurting. The distinctive crack-crack from the lasguns was apparent, even though the air was full of inhuman screams. McGranth raised his storm bolter and aimed it towards the clique of deamons, yelling to Rolf to get out of the way. The young man nimbly somersaulted out of line of fire and McGranth pulled the trigger. The storm bolter kicked in his hand for a couple of seconds, until the dull clack came to indicate the sickle-pattern clip was empty. By then, all the deamons were dead.

"Nice job guys!" McGranth said and wiped deamon pus from his brow. He shot Nazz and the Kankers a look. "And girls, of course!" he added with a sheepish smile.

"Let's get the frekk out of here." McKenzie said curtly. McGranth startled at this. He wasn't used to the fact that McKenzie used that sort of language. But sometime has to be the first, he thought. The thirteen boys and girls moved towards the Nighthawk.

As they got in, Charleston seated himself in the pilot's seat and flicked several switches. He adjusted a bit in the seat, and then turned, punched off most of the backrest of the seat, and settled again. The rest had been in the way for his jump pack. The others buckled in on the places that were meant for passengers, McKenzie helping them with the buckles. McGranth didn't sit down like the others. He remained standing. McKenzie put back the lasguns and then settled down in the seat meant for the Navigator.

"Know what Edward?" Charleston said with a smirk to McKenzie.

"This Thunderhawk has a Warp drive? I know." McKenzie replied after both reading Charleston's thoughts and seeing the new panel.

"It's no fun playing guessing games with you... " Charleston replied sourly and turned back to his controls.

"I hate them, Ed, they're too easy." McKenzie replied absently as he strapped himself in.

Charleston pulled the control stick towards him and the Thunderhawk rose. It hovered in the air for a while, and then the landing gears retracted into its hull. He keyed a couple of buttons and sent a prayer to the God-Emperor that the automatics of Hades Hive still worked. His authorisation code was received by a database somewhere in the hive, a new signal was sent down to their level and the star port doors opened before them. Charleston pressed the thrusters to maximum and the Nighthawk sped out of Hades Hive. The kids looked out of the portholes beside them and saw what Armageddon was. Sand, sand, sand and even more sand. Kevin reeled backwards as he saw something huge roll under the sand dunes. McGranth had seen what Kevin had seen over his shoulder.

"Sand cobra," McGranth said. "Big carnivorous snakes. Can swallow a man whole. Be glad we're not down there."

Kevin just swallowed. They went higher and higher up into the air. They passed a greenish-black river. The problem with the colour was that it looked like the green was snot and the black oil.

"Euminide River." McGranth said explaining to Kevin. He had no idea why he did this. The child awoke such bad memories to him. The Nighthawk passed through the sulphur yellow clouds of Armageddon and the sight of the ground of Armageddon was forever lost to Kevin. He felt the pull as Charleston witched the propulsion system from atmospheric to interstellar. He also wondered why McGranth didn't start floating. He asked why.

"Electromagnetic boots." McGranth said and showed Kevin one of his boots. There were ridges in it, like any ordinary boot, but nothing that was strange overall with, except for the fact that they were made out of adamantium. McGranth put down his foot again, and as if to demonstrate, pulled out his power axe and let go of it. It drifted in the air. McGranth took it again and fastened it at his belt. He'd made his point.

At the front, McKenzie was discussing with Charleston.

"What do mean 'low on fuel'?" McKenzie asked, leaning as much forward as the seatbelt would allow.

"You know perfectly well what I mean," Charleston replied. "I'll have to refuel if we're going to make any longer trips. Now, where are we going?"

McKenzie considered this for a while. "Ichar... our home. There the kids can get armour."

"I know what you're thinking, but what about the girls... I mean, there weren't any female Space Marines as you know, and our armour..."

"I know what you mean commander." McKenzie replied softly. "It's just... I long for home."

"So do I." Charleston replied.

"Good." McKenzie said and patted his friend's shoulder. "Take us to the Warp-gate then, Commander Charleston."

"Roger that, Master Lexicanum. But, I'll need a Navigator."

"I'll take care of that... " McKenzie said and leaned backwards. He closed his eyes, and concentrated. He'd never done this before, and hoped it would work. With his third, mental eye, he saw the swirling energies and eddies of the Warp. The tricky part wasn't to go right and avoid being lost. The tricky part was to stave off deamons.

Charleston shut off the engines as they approached the Warp-gate. The colours hurt his eye and he hoped McKenzie knew what he was doing. Charleston felt the push as the Nighthawk was sucked into the Warp. He put on the engines again, but just to such speed that he could navigate.

Four hours later, the Nighthawk came out of the Warp outside the Hive-world Ichar. Charleston took over the navigation again and aimed it towards the northern parts of Ichar. As the retros of the Nighthawk flashed and broke their downfall, he felt a sudden rush of joy over him. He was home!