The ship dropped out of hyperspace, and Ajax was transported down to the SGC to take on new supplies and drop off the fragments he had.

With that done, Ajax took the helm as the ship lurched into hyperspace once more.

"Here's as good a place as any." Ajax said at last, reaching over to a panel. "All hands, we're dropping out of hyperspace."

With those words, the Phoenix shot out of hyperspace, her engines firing to clear the gap before it closed.

"We're receiving a transmission." Angel said.

"Onscreen." Max replied.

"Audio only, I'm afraid." Angel replied.

"This is the Contemptuous. Surrender and be destroyed, xeno scum!"

"As opposed to don't surrender and don't be destroyed." Ajax replied laughingly.

"You will perish under our might, xeno." the voice said.

"Okay, that's cool." Ajax replied, his voice calm. "Would somebody kill the audio on that bonehead?

The voice didn't sound again, and Gazzy's eyes widened comically. "They're firing!" he said. "And their shots are BIG. It's about the size of a school bus."

Ajax muttered darkly under his breath, stabbing the gear selector into fifth gear, and mashing on the throttle.

The ship whined as Ajax rowed through the gears, and Gazzy attempted to return fire. With the pitching and yawing of the ship, it was nearly impossible, and Gazzy gave it up as a lost cause, waiting for Ajax to finish confusing the enemy.

A second ship appeared, and Angel opened the channel.

"This is Aragon the Grey, captain of the Blade of Scorn." came a voice, sounding faintly annoyed. "Identify yourself at once."

"This is Ajax, commander of the Tau'ri warship Phoenix." Ajax replied confidently. "Any idea why the Contemptuous was firing on us?"

"New around here, are you? You broke the first law of the 41st millenium, don't frak with the Imperium."

"Didn't intend to." Ajax replied politely. "I'm on a mission from Earth, looking for the pieces to an Ancient puzzle left behind by a person known as Ganas Lal. It's a hunk of stone about the size of a human fist, made of polished obsidian. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"I've heard of a few artifacts like that…most of them open gateways to hell or do something similarly unpleasant. It's my job to kill whoever wants to use them; so, explain why your artifact is different, explain what it's doing on Earth and why you need it, or get out of my sight before I blow you into so much molten slag."

"Uh." Ajax explained intelligently, hearing the cynicism in the other person's voice. "Mine is part of a puzzle that opens the path to an incredibly well-protected cache of weapons, physical treasure, and the last known database of the Alterrans, the predecessors of the human race. As for what it's doing here, Ganas Lal scattered the puzzle over the multiverse, so as to better protect the cache. We need the weapons to stop the Ori, a false religion intent on enslaving or destroying us."

"That sounds like it falls under my purview as an Inquisitor. And I don't much like false-deities, service to the Imperium or otherwise."

Ajax smiled up at the speaker mounted in the ceiling. "So…am I about to become space junk, or are you willing to help me?"

"You're about to be relegated to the role of side-kick until either I can't put up with you anymore, -in which case you are on your own- or when this little adventure of yours is done with."

"Fair enough." Ajax said, as the others breathed a sigh of relief. "Should I be setting course for Earth, then?"

"No, you'd be shot down before you reached the Charon Checkpoint. Grab whatever you need, and take a shuttle to bay A-6, you'll be traveling aboard the Scorn."

"Understood. Am I allowed to bring my senior staff?" Ajax asked, standing up.

"That depends on who and what you are." Aragon's disembodied voice replied.

Ajax was already grabbing his panic bag, and walking to the 302 bay, pulling on his jacket as he walked.

"Anyone who's wanted, and they'll probably be shot on sight. If they are hideous mutants or any variety of alien, I can't guarantee the more puritanical members of my crew won't take it upon themselves to kill them."

"We aren't hideous mutants…" Ajax trailed off quietly. "Human-avian hybrids…humans with wings and special abilities. We were…designed" Ajax spat the word as if it were venomous "on Earth. We've got a uniform that we can wear to hide our wings or whip them out at a moment's notice and fly off."

There was a long pause as Ajax climbed into his 302, Total settling in behind him. "If that is the case, you will all submit to a psychic examination. If I find anything incriminating, you'll be confined or killed, depending on how bad what I find is. But, if you aren't from around here, that should be a problem. Should it?" the question was phrased innocently enough, but as pointed as the tip of a needle.

Ajax chewed on his lip for a moment. "Very well." he replied. "Just do us all one favor. The first law of the 41st millennium might be 'don't frak with the Empire', or whatever it's called, but the first law when dealing with us is we do not want or need the pity or sympathy of others. On another note, we don't have shuttles, just two seat fighters. We are five minutes from launch. They are lightly armed and poorly armored, so please realize that we pose no threat with them." Ajax said, hoping to not get shot. He secured his face mask, and swallowed as the canopy sealed and his ears popped. He listened to the whine of his engines as they activated, and began preparations for takeoff.

"Oh, trust me, the only 'special treatment' you'll get around here if you're twists is the utter contempt of the crew." Aragon assured him.

"'Twists?'" Ajax queried. "What does that mean? The only special treatment we need is the same respect you'd give to a human being, and about double the food allotment of a regular human, we burn food faster and hotter due to the experimentation done to us."

"Mutant." Aragon explained. "As to respect, I can find the human decency to treat you as a human being. The crew of the Scorn? The Imperium's main faith puts any human who's mutated or possesses psychic abilities in the same category as lepers, rapists, terrorists and other brands of unpleasant individuals. Mainly because they usually are. Do not expect a warm welcome, and be prepared to defend yourselves if you happen to find yourselves alone with the noncommissioned officers."

"Hmmph." Ajax replied. "We've been up against Erasers, which are basically werewolves, and unless everyone knows we are mutants, we'll be fine. We'll keep our jackets on at all times to make sure. Departing now." As Ajax spoke, four F-302s screamed out of the port bay of the Phoenix, screaming towards the Blade of Scorn in a tight diamond formation.

They landed in the bay, and Ajax whistled lowly in admiration. The bay was simply MASSIVE. He almost could have parked the Phoenix inside, rather than his fighter. He looked around, obeying the hand signals as best as he understood, shuddering in horror as he saw Borg drones moving about, while others in ragged clothes loitered to watch the strange craft or were brought back to order by intimidating overseers, some armed with whips.

The skull seemed to be a significant piece for these people, as their motifs all incorporated the skull. He saw the double eagle, and thought of Nazi Germany, then saw a cog and skull motif. Everywhere he looked, the cog and skull stared back with it's macabre grin from anywhere near anything looking remotely mechanical. "I sure hope my 302s don't get decorated the same way as the rest of this ship." Ajax mused. "To see their motifs, one would think that death is the epitome of all of their lives."

He saw bare wiring and brass fittings everywhere, and began to wonder just how the ship stayed space worthy. Any electrical system looked like it could go at a moment's notice.

Then Ajax spotted an imposing figure, whom he assumed was 'Aragon'. He was an imposing figure, standing beneath a door, a silver sword at his hip, dressed in black armor chaised with silver, and a grey cloak.

At his back stood a serpentine creature, with silver-blue scales and a grey-black lion's mane around it's neck, a line of fur running the length of it's spine and ending in a rather impressive plume at the tip of it's tail.

Ajax noted it, wondering if it was a variant on one of the 'Oriental' type dragons, as well as how 'Aragon' had managed to acquire it.

Seeing breathable atmosphere, Ajax began shutting down, sweeping his hand across the board and listening to the systems shutting down. After everything had shut down, he felt the muted rumble as the APU kicked in automatically, and began undoing the restraints.

When he finished, he triggered the canopy, and jumped out, flexing his knees as he landed. He was doing his very best to appear as human as possible.

He opened the APU access, and switched it off, listening to the final turbine whine as it slowed to a stop, then whistled. "Total!" he called. The black Scottie jumped over the lip of the cockpit, and Ajax made his way to where Angel was tossing her helmet into the backseat of her 302. "Round 'em up." he said softly, handing Total to her.

She nodded, and soon the rest of the Flock was forming up near Ajax.

"Well, let's meet this 'Aragon' fellow." Ajax said. "No use delaying the inevitable." He walked towards Aragon, straight-backed and proud, though not aggressive. Four feet away, he stopped and bowed respectfully. "On behalf of the humans of Earth, I thank you for allowing this meeting to take place."

"Cut the crap. You might not feel like they're worth working for if you ever bother to find out about the history of this place." Aragon replied, waving a gauntleted hand dismissively. "This way." he added briskly, indicating the bulkhead door behind him.

"I feel I must warn you…" Ajax said, following Aragon. "The youngest of my senior staff is a telepath. Six year olds aren't known for their restraint, so she'll probably try to probe you. I personally, through trial and error, have managed to raise defenses to keep her out, but I haven't figured out how to get the Borg to stand down, so if you enter my mind, you'll have defenses to deal with. Just letting you know before someone goes in. On the other hand…" Ajax gave a shudder of fear and disgust. "It seems that humanity has already conquered the Borg. How many drones are on this ship?"

"If you mean the ship's compliment of servitors, there's a few thousand. I co-opted them instead of indentured servants. My dislike of slavery notwithstanding, servitors don't rebel, being lobotomized. As to your pet psyker, I suggest you tell her to keep her powers to herself unless she wants to get herself and everyone else aboard this ship killed."

"Telepath, not psyker." Ajax replied. He was about to continue, but Max cut him off.

"Where are you taking us?" she asked, suspicion ringing clear in her voice.

"The bridge. I'd rather have you where I can keep an eye on you, for your sake as much as for my own paranoia that you might do something untoward." Aragon replied.

"I personally am not stupid enough to try anything." Ajax said. "And so long as we aren't imprisoned in dog crates or being experimented on, I can vouch for my senior staff. I assume the psychic examination will take place on the bridge?"

"Assuming nothing unexpected happens, yes, it will." Aragon replied. He continued walking down the corridor, going just fast enough that Angel had to trot to keep up.

"Understood." Ajax said softly. The rest of the trip was spent in silence.

Just as they entered the bridge, Angel said "Thelduin is the most beautiful dragon I've ever seen." in her classic innocent six-year old voice.

Ajax looked worried and confused, as did nearly everyone else.

Aragon's eyes shifted focus for a moment, before he said "Well, that's one less person the ship's astropath needs to read."

"It won't help that we all have special abilities, will it?" Ajax asked softly.

"So long as they aren't mental abilities like telepathy, we shouldn't have any problems." Aragon replied.

"Aren't you doing the reading?" Angel asked, her wide blue eyes peering up at Aragon. Her expression was the definition of innocence.

"If I did the reading, and something went wrong, or you people pulled the double cross, then I would be the first or second one down. By letting someone more skilled at this sort of thing and less adept at combat do it, I'm keeping the initiative squarely where I want it." Aragon replied bluntly.

Ajax nodded in approval. "Smart move." he said quietly. "I'd have done the same if our positions were reversed, even if you didn't look like a threat at the time. I don't have telepathy, but from what Angel has told me, I've got nasty mental defenses. Tell your astropath to beware of the 'servitors' he sees in my mind. They have two modes of operation, assimilation or destruction. In my mind, they work for me, though I haven't quite gotten the hang of managing them yet, but in the real world, they are as nasty as they come. They answered to their Borg Queen, as she is well and truly malevolent. If they touch you, it's game over."

"That's nice." Aragon replied distractedly. It seemed to Ajax as if he'd found the information inconsequential, which made Ajax wonder about what Aragon had seen or done to make the Borg look like a minor threat if they even rated.

Before he could ask, they entered the bridge. As with everything else Ajax had seen, brass was used quite liberally, for everything from fittings to monitor casings, and the macabre skull motif decorating scheme was still present.

The various crewmen were wearing navy blue uniforms that looked like they'd put a Marine's uniform to shame, and were all working on various projects. Ajax thought they were trying hard to ignore the slender woman waiting in the command pulpit.

Guards at the door were fingering their weapons, as if it made them feel just a bit safer, and the man sitting on the command throne was obviously nervous of the woman.

Ajax regarded the woman with a sweeping glance, running through the short list of aliens he knew of with a third eye. Given what he knew, the woman was a mutated human, or a Trellith. Given the conspicuous absence of powder blue scales at the base of the neck, Ajax assumed the former.

"The astropath, I presume?" he asked, indicating the woman in the command pulpit.

"Indeed. My only advice is to not antagonize Madam Kirrilan, she…doesn't get out much." Aragon replied in an undertone.

"Good advice." Ajax replied lightly. "Now, as captain of my ship and crew, I should go first." he added, drawing himself up to full attention posture.

"Just don't try to mine her for information. It won't go well for you, and the cleaning crew does so despise having to clean entrails off the walls." Aragon said.

"Mmmph." Ajax replied. "My mental capabilities are defensive only, and strongly so. At present, so far as I know, Angel is the only telepath in my group." With that, Ajax strode towards Madam Kerrilan, stopping at a respectful distance. "I am first for examination." he said clearly. He hoped he wasn't showing the fact that he was genuinely afraid.

Madam Kerrilan's look told Ajax that she knew perfectly well how scared he was, and then a wave of bone-chilling cold swept over him, and he collapsed. Similar thuds told Ajax that the rest of the Flock had been dealt with similarly.

There was a long moment of silence, as Ajax painstakingly stood up again.

Aragon motioned, and they quit the bridge, Madam Kerrilan walking with controlled relief to the armored dome set below the command pulpit.

Ajax turned to face Aragon as they were leaving the bridge, and he managed to say "I'm loosing control." before he collapsed in a dead faint.

When he awoke, he was on a bed, and Iggy had a concerned look on his face. Aragon wasn't in sight, but that didn't preclude him from being behind Ajax.

They were in what Ajax presumed was the stateroom, and streaky, poisonous green sewage was gliding past the window. Angel appeared slightly nauseated, and Ajax mustered the will to sit up. "Status report." he croaked, his throat dry.

"You've been out for quite a while." Aragon stated. "Tried to do a bit of sleep fighting as well. Mind telling me just what that was about?"

Max piped in, saying "We are currently in what Aragon calls the Warp."

"Sewer of emotion, more like." Angel interjected. "It makes me want to hurl."

"Sleep fighting?" Ajax asked. "I wouldn't know. My dreams had me back on that damn Sphere. I never want to be on a Borg vessel again. Besides, I wasn't on the Phoenix. Your ship sounds like a transmission when Max is driving.

Despite the fact that Ajax had just woken up, Max cracked her knuckles threateningly, contemplating the idea of knocking him out again.

Ignoring this, Aragon pressed on implacably. "Borg? Those pseudo-Necron things? Pah, they're pathetic. When you've seen a Necron World Engine, then you've seen what a cybernetic apocalypse looks like. Now, I believe you've mentioned something about some sort of xenos artifact fragment. What is it, what does it do, and most importantly, where do we find the damned thing?"

"Xeno?" Ajax asked, confused. "The Ancients looked human. Rather, humans look like the Ancients. As for the artifact, it's just an obsidian stone with a trace on it. It doesn't DO anything. All I know is that it's on Terra, probably near the South Pole, or in the area of Egypt. A second Stargate used to stand in Giza, before a great deal of history happened." Ajax paused for a moment, and recollected himself. "Anyway, to find it, I just scan for a resonant trace, it's a low-level benign radiation signature. The rock actually glows slightly in a pitch black room." The room fell quite again for a moment, as Aragon stared at Ajax, who worked his mind through the questions Aragon had asked. "Actually, the stone is a fragment of a map and key that opens the path to an obstacle course. Beat it, and you go on to the second course. Rumor has it that a dragon was left as the final obstacle."

Aragon dropped his head into his hands, and massaged his temples. "We've got a real problem then." he muttered.

"Define 'problem'." Fang said suspiciously.

"Your information appears to be at least thirty-eight thousand years out of date." Aragon explained. "The Earth you knew is dead. Has been for at least ten thousand years, and more than likely another thirty thousand before that. Earth is one giant city now, and a lot of ancient artifacts like that have been found, a great deal of them been moved off Throne-knows-where or destroyed. You've got absolutely no idea what you've got yourself into."

Complete silence met Aragon's explanation for several moments before the Nudge channel switched on.

"Yeah, that's a problem. Where do you think this piece was moved to? Where would you have hidden it?" Nudge asked. She had started to pick up steam, but a poke in the ribs by Iggy's elbow served to stop her.

"Well then, we'll just have to see what Phoenix has to say." Ajax said. "She's heading for Earth, and from her last position, should be there inside of a day and a half. If we beat the Phoenix there, I suppose we could try scanning with your sensors, if they happen to be any good."

The look of incredulity on Aragon's face gave Ajax pause. "What?" he asked defensively.

"You do realize that as soon as that ship shows up, the defenses will tear apart your ship like rice-paper, right?" Aragon asked, his tone falsely curious.

"Nah, not unless the defenses have really good scanners. From the looks of this ship, I'd hazard a guess and assume that they don't have what they used to." Ajax asserted. "The construction chiefs back home would be fired if they built a ship like this. Well, either that, or you are incredibly long overdue for a refit."

"You've a right smart mouth, boy. I'd learn a bit of discretion if I were you. The Scorn and ships like her might be ugly, but they are rightly feared as being incredibly durable and packing the firepower to level a city in a single salvo. Many of them have been in service for ten thousand years, and some from before then. This is an age of war. Much has been forgotten, never to be remembered. Forget the promise of technology and understanding, these are the end times. There is no peace amongst the stars, only slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods. You are a very long way from home." Aragon said flatly.

"There's a computer terminal around here somewhere, I suggest you read up on the Imperium's History, as well as the particulars of the other inhabitants of this benighted place."

With that, Aragon stood to leave. "When you're done, let me know. We'll reach Sol inside of two days. We'll undergo refit, then we're going to go and do something incredibly risky to try and retrieve your frakking rock."

Ajax wasn't finished with the discussion, and spoke up. "Durable?" he echoed from Aragon's previous statements. "Sure. Deadly? I believe it. However, I'm willing to be that less than half of the original design works. The Phoenix may be tiny in comparison to your ships, but she'll still bloody a nose if she gets a mind to do so. She's also quick, light on her feet so to speak. Frankly, the Phoenix could teach you a thing or two about maneuvering." Ajax paused for a moment, his eyes flicked from left to right as he thought. "Oh, and she's got a Romulan cloak on board. Before you ask, Romulans look like elves, except always constipated. They almost always have a stick up their ass."

Thelduin paused as she was preparing to follow Aragon out of the room. "Eyes may be blind, but they aren't the only means of locating prey." she said. The words reverberated deep within Ajax, and he took on a slightly thoughtful look.

"Your 'Romulans' sound like they'd fit right in. I'm sure that the Tau would be delighted to know that not every knife-ear in the space despises them, just the vast majority." Aragon said sardonically.

"Phoenix is running on the strength of her processing core, nothing more. I knew a little about this place before stepping into this corner of the multiverse, so I got rid of the crew. There are no minds for telepathic abilities to pick up on." Ajax said, responding to Thelduin's words. "The only noticeable thing is the hyperspace exit window. That will be close to the sun, and she'll clear the area right quick, so it shouldn't be a problem." Ajax said. When he realized Aragon was out of earshot, he mumbled something under his breath, but shifted gears. "Angel, did you catch that telepathic trace?"

Angel nodded. "I wonder what she meant by that." she mused quietly.

"I don't know." Ajax answered. Whatever the dragon meant, it disquieted him, and he didn't like it one bit.

The two days that followed were largely without incident, though Max did wind up killing a man, and severely injuring two others.

Angel informed Aragon nearly right away that someone had been unwise enough to pick a fight with Max, which led to Max being summoned to the bridge for a personal talk with Aragon.

Additionally, the moment that the Blade of Scorn emerged from the warp, Ajax clicked on the radio.

"Phoenix, this is Ajax. Do you have anything?"

There was a brief crackle of static, and someone claiming to be the Adeptus Mechanicus began speaking, though Ajax could barely understand a word of it. When he finished, Phoenix spoke up.

"Not sure what that was all about," she said lightly "but the fragment is on the moon. I'm still narrowing my search, but I know what eighth of the moon it is on."

On the bridge, Aragon rolled a glass between his fingers, inspecting the light that refracted through his amasec and savoring the fine liquid. The door to the bridge hissed open, and Aragon felt a wave of deep-seated suspicion roll in.

"Miss Ride." Aragon said, not looking in her direction. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked. He already had his suspicions, but felt like allowing her to tell her story.

"Three of yours attacked me while I was eating." Max answered, a mixture of nonchalance and defiance in her voice. "I think I killed the first one, and left the other two unconscious on the deck. Thought you might want to know, they started it." Her tone shifted to genuine confusion as she added "They called me a 'twist'. Last time I checked, a twist is a pretzel. I fail to see the connection between fighting me and pretzels, but then, my life has always been strange…"

"I take it then, that Ajax neglected to inform you that mutant are persecuted here?" Aragon asked, standing from his command throne and motioning for Max to follow.

The two walked in silence through several halls, and took a short elevator ride to a near-deserted observation deck, massive shutters obscuring the view to the madness of the warp.

"As for a twist, I am aware of the term's use in connection to junk food." Aragon said, picking up as if there hadn't been a silence in the conversation. "In this time, it has another, less tasteful use: it's a slur against mutants. Most of them have been forced to live lives of crime due to the widespread discrimination against them. Mind you, as most of them are innately homicidal psychopaths, bent on unleashing the apocalypse, it's warranted discrimination."

"Well, I'm not supposed to bring the apocalypse. I'm supposed to save the world." Max said snidely. "Anyway, as far as the first guy goes, I made an all day pizza out of his face…I doubt he'll bother me again. He barely had a chance. I knew what he wanted, but let him hit me first to give him the chance to back out. He had a right hook, and didn't have the chance to do anything else."

Aragon regarded Max appraisingly. She was standing in profile to him, gazing at a point halfway up the shutters, her wings hanging loosely behind her. The Inquisitor could sense almost no regret from the young avian about what she'd done, though there was a willingness to repeat the performance pouring off of her in waves.

"This is so much anger in you." he said at last. "If you hear voices telling you to do something, I strongly suggest you ignore them. As far as your assailants go, the chief medic tells me that one is dead and the other two will be in recovery for around six months. As to saving the world…" Aragon took a sip from his glass, looking up at the massive iron-grey shutters. "well, there are countless worlds in the Imperium. For every one that falls, another three take it's place. Don't stress yourself."

"The only voices I hear are Angel and The Voice." Max replied. "I'm nearly convinced that The Voice is nothing more than a living fortune cookie factory, and Angel…well, her mind control doesn't work on me, for whatever reason. Possibly because of The Voice. I'm glad I won't be seeing the other two, but I am sorry that I killed the first guy. My intention was to rough them up enough that word gets around, and nobody tries to mess with me or my family." She fell silent for a moment, as her mind shifted gears. "Oh, what is it with your telepathic-capable people around here? The protection techniques I learned from the Betazoid on DS-9 were useless. Your 'astropath' went through my shields like Venetian glass, and I haven't been able to bring them back up since."

"The telepaths on this ship, indeed, anywhere in this place, are known as psykers. Properly trained, a psyker can level an army. A rather powerful one has been quoted as saying 'I can snap your bones and pulp your flesh without so much as twitching a finger. What is the power of technology compared to that?' Now, the psykers on this ship are all low level, gamma, at most. I rate at somewhere around Delta-plus, but I'm still weak compared to others." Aragon paused to indulge in another sip of amasec.

"You were never trained to fend off psykers. Only the most resolute can do it. It takes conviction and an extraordinarily strong will." He set down the tumbler, and stepped over to Max, laying a hand on her shoulder. "You need not apologize for killing that man." he said, when Max had regarded him with a question in her chocolate eyes. After a moment, he removed his hand, but continued. "He likely would have raped, tortured and then maimed you and left you to bleed out. In the future, should you find yourself in that situation, go for the throat. Better still, get a weapon. Most people here have a knife, and most use chainswords and laspistols. Both are exactly what they sound like, and are among the most common weapons in this universe. They're also only really any use against human-level enemies unless you posses the god-like strength of some of the terrors that inhabit this place. On that note, it would probably be for the best if you ignored your 'Voice'. Even if it sounds the same, it's liable to be imitated by something less than friendly."

"I haven't heard from the Voice in over a year now, since that time we were left in Death Valley to die of thirst in the hot sun." Max replied. "And I don't really need a weapon. If I have permission to kill in self defense, then the next guy to try anything gets the Nutcracker followed with a sharp jab to the throat. I don't put up with that short of shit." Max fell silent for a moment, her eyes losing focus. After a moment, her eyes refocused, and she spoke again. "Phoenix says that she's located the fragment. Apparently, it's on Luna. She's got it down to an eighth of the moon, if that helps any."

Aragon's eyes narrowed. "Your friend, Ajax?" he inquired. "Doesn't take advice, does he?"

"Once in a while." Max replied lightly. "It was on my advice that we didn't simply appear in standard orbit around Earth. Iggy is still working with the Gasman to create a working handheld. It should be more accurate than ship's sensors…but with those two…well, they know explosives better than sensors."

"A reckless one." Aragon sighed. Max knew he was speaking about Ajax. "If he gets into a fight with a Wolfblade or a pack of zealots, on his own head be it." He shook his head, and drained the last swallow of amasec. "Get yourself a weapon. Even just a pistol will do, unless you can punch through a bulkhead without mangling your arm. Yes, that's an accurate description of how hard body armor in this place can be, and that's not even top of the line stuff." Aragon said, walking towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Max asked, looking at the grey cloak of the retreating Inquisitor.

"Up to the bridge." Aragon said, turning to face Max. "I'm going to flash my Inquisitorial Rosette, and get us to Luna orbit faster. If the fragment is or was there, I believe I know where it'll be. Whether the genetically engineered, fanatically loyal, literally fearless, post-human war machines that are the Adeptus Custodes will let me in to get to it is another matter. Oh, and you can tell Ajax he isn't coming. The Custodes would literally tear him apart if they saw him or any of you. All I will need from you is a description. If I can't find it, then we'll have to do something potentially suicidal."

Max walked to the elevator with Aragon as he'd been talking. When they stopped at the doors, she pulled out a picture. "Is this good enough?" she asked, handing it to him. "This is a picture of the last one we found."

The picture showed a black rock, unnaturally smooth on the face, with what looked like a Tetris character carved into it. The sides were rough, save for one side which was as smooth as the face. Sitting beside the rock was a one cm cube, for perspective. Overall, the rock appeared to be the size of Aragon's fist.

"Didn't you say they were genetically engineered?" Max asked. "What makes them different from us? We aren't just mutants, we were created this way."

Aragon glanced at the picture. "That should do." he conceded, as the elevator began moving up. "As for what makes the Custodes different from you: about thirty thousand years of scientific advancement, the fact that their augmentation doesn't involve extra limbs more often seen in animals, and the fact that in terms of raw power, constitution and intelligence, they're far and away superior to you sound reason enough? I'm not being insulting here." Aragon said, before Max could turn to glare at him. The doors to the bridge loomed ahead, and Aragon continued. "The Primarchs, Custodes, and Astartes are humans magnified by factors of Thirty, Twenty and Ten, respectively."

That silenced the last of Max's objections on that score, and she moved to the next question. "Do you think they will allow you to retrieve it, or should we be gearing up for a fight? Also, right after we came out of the warp, Ajax contacted the Phoenix. There was additional chatter, a third party on the line that identified itself as the Adeptus Mechanicus."

"Wonderful." Aragon muttered. "The tech-priests of Mars. This could get dicey. My ship is due for a re-fit, and the Mechanicus picked up you sending unauthorized signals." Aragon growled in annoyance. "This will be a problem. As for the Custodes allowing me to look around the place I think this thing will be in…they might…if I ask nicely. If not, hopefully I won't have to get in a fight with them. They've got a nasty habit of brutally killing anyone who trespasses in places they are set to guard."

"Tech-priests?" Max asked incredulously. She couldn't help herself, and laughed outright. "That's a good one." she said at last. "I've heard of people being religious about their car, but an actual religion? That's too funny. Seriously, how are they aligned? I suppose they'd worship Phoenix, seeing as how she's an A.I. and they have a religion about technology."

"No, the abhor A.I., as in, they will erase any they find, code by code, then destroy whatever the A.I. was inhabiting, just to make sure. Considering that A.I.'s nearly wiped out humanity at the height of their power, it's a valid viewpoint. The Mechanicus believes technology is superior to the human form, but cannot exist without being controlled by humanity. They're charged with finding and maintaining pre-Imperial technology. I guess whoever founded them was an Isaac Asimov fan." Aragon explained.

"Well, the ship is pre-Imperial, all right." Max replied. "And Phoenix can hide extremely well. Give her two seconds warning, and she's gone. I watched her do it once, and when she was gone, all you could see was an extremely intuitive U.I. That's User Interface, if you didn't know. Did you suppose they would like a ship built in 2005?"

A crooked smile twisted Aragon's lips. "I doubt it." he said. "They focus mainly on anything from between the sixth and twentieth millenia."

"This would be before that." Max stated. "So, if they find the ship, what then?"

"Assuming the defense fleet doesn't annihilate it, they'll most likely board, look everything over, take it to Mars, and try to match it to a Standard Template Construct. When they find it isn't from an STC, it wouldn't surprise me if they melted it down. And I put it at fifty-fifty on whether they find your A.I. …and we really shouldn't be discussing this here, go and wait in the stateroom, we'll talk later." Aragon said.

Max nodded, and returned to the stateroom.

"We've got trouble." she stated tersely. "Mechanicus finds the Phoenix and we're out a way home."

"No problem." Ajax said, smirking. "Phoenix, activate Merlin's Cloak, and use the trace flare to track my location. You know what to do. Ajax out."

"Ajax!" Max said sternly. "Get Phoenix out of Sol. Aragon seems worried that our ship may be found. I doubt that's good enough for you, but considering that he's our local expert on this place, I'm willing to back him up." Max paused for a moment, then added. "Of course, if you want to walk home, that's fine with me. We'll just stay here and get Aragon to drop us off back on Earth in our own time when he's got a spare moment."

"Did you somehow miss the explanation on Merlin's Cloak?" Ajax asked. "Phoenix will shifted WAY out of phase. They won't be able to see, hear or hit her."

"Have you been able to put your shields back up?" Max asked innocently.

Ajax shook his head. "No…why?"

"Because the telepaths here are very powerful. According to Aragon, they are capable of killing with just a thought. They don't need to see the Phoenix when they've got a sixth sense that allows them to do stuff like that." Max said.

"They'd need more than their sixth-sense. The warp is phase level one. Surely there is a blank phase for Phoenix to hide in. Probably Delta-Four, as it's relatively close to hyperspace."

"Ajax, I suggest you listen to her." Angel said flatly. "Aragon knows what he's talking about, and he told Max. Probably because he think you respect her opinion. Was he mistaken?"

Ajax considered the innocent-looking science officer, and thought about the situation. "Very well." he said at last. He clicked on the radio. "Ajax to Phoenix. Make like a cheap pair of pants, and split. Merlin's cloak won't cut it in this system. Head for the Argo's system, cloak out as far as you can, and sit tight. We'll rendezvous with you there."

"Are you sure about this?" Phoenix asked. "I won't be able to get you out of a tight situation should anything happen."

"I know." Ajax said somberly. "Exchange my 302 for a Jumper, then go. I don't like this any more than you do, but it's our best bet. Engage. Ajax out."

In shuttle bay A-6, a bright light shone around the 302 Ajax had landed in, and the sleek fighter vanished. A moment later, it was replaced with a dull-grey tube, with slanted ends. The strange craft was slightly larger than a minivan, and had a large plate-glass window in the front. An open ramp on the rear sloped invitingly to the deck.

A moment later, the Phoenix decloaked, directly behind a defense tower, then disappeared into a white and blue tear in the fabric of space. Before the guns had a chance to swing fully around, the tear sealed itself behind the wayward vessel.

In Ajax's hand, the radio crackled to life with an oddly synthetic voice, requesting identification on the ship that had just left so spectacularly.

No one answered, and Ajax silently turned off the radio.

"I very deeply hope I was wrong about wanting Phoenix nearby." Ajax said, gravely, speaking to Max and Angel. With a practiced shrug, Ajax put on his Starfleet jacket, and turned to gaze out of the window, looking like an officer with no hope.

Aragon raised the restraints on his seat as the Thunderhawk touched down on the landing pad in the hangar bay of Luna.

He felt his heartbeat running at well above it's standard steady beat.

Of course, he'd worked with the Astartes before, but he'd never had reason to meet with the Custodes, and with his leanings towards recongregation and xenohybrianism, he was fervently hoping there wasn't a telepath among the garrison at this facility.

The boarding ramp lowered, and immediately, he laid eyes on a guard of ten Custodes, with another standing at the end of the two rows of heavily armored god-warriors.

At they're head was a man roughly Aragon's height dressed in the fine black suit, well-tailored cape and tall hat that usually marked an Inquisitor. Judging by his rosette, which was worn openly and ostentatiously, the man was also a Puritan of some description.

"Inquisitor Grey." said the other inquisitor, in clipped, aristocratic vowels. "What brings you to Luna? I'd have thought you'd be refitting your ship, and reading up on cases that require your…particular expertise." This last was said with distaste.

"In the course of my investigations, I'm come across reports that there is or was an artifact to be found here, about the size of a fist, made of obsidian, glows faintly, and apparently is for some form of puzzle-key." Aragon replied. If what Ajax had said about a dragon-guard was true, then he was fairly certain he knew what this 'key' was, or what it would be taken as.

"You seek the Typhus Labyrinth?" the other inquisitor asked sharply.

"Do you take me for having brain rot?" Aragon retorted. "If this thing really is the Typhus Labyrinth, then you can rest assured I want nothing to do with it." he assured hurriedly. "Here, I found this while I was investigating a cult out on the fringe of Segmentum Tempestuous, it's supposed to be a picture of another part of the key." he added, handing over the picture Max had given him.

The other inquisitor studied for a moment, then his beady black eyes found Aragon's face again. "I've never seen anything like this, or heard it's like described, save for a very ancient data-file in this facility. The artifact you seek was stolen a millennia ago, by the Eldar Harlequins. It's probably languishing in the Black Library now.

Aragon nodded. Truth be told, perhaps that was for the best. Nothing would be able to touch the piece there, and the key was probably useless without all the fragments, meaning that the vault or whatever Ajax was chasing was going to stay locked and out of his Aurions -or whatever they were- grasp. The problem would be convincing the infuriating little bastard that the Black Library was impenetrable.

"Very well, I apologize for wasting your time, I'm sure we've both got things we need to be doing." Aragon said with a half-bow. The meeting concluded, he returned to the ship.

The Custodes had stood, still as statues throughout the meeting, their bolter-lances at the ready should he try anything. Their eyes followed him back into the Thunderhawk, and Aragon didn't dare sigh until they were in high orbit. Surely, Ajax would accept that his rock was well beyond his reach, in the most impenetrable hoard of dark and forbidden lore in existence?

Ajax was staring out the window when a rather large craft sailed past, and Angel remarked "Aragon is back, but he does not bring good news."

"Did you really think he would?" Ajax asked rhetorically. "I've been reviewing the sensor logs. The rock wasn't on Luna, but it had been there for so long that the trace elements making it detectable had painted the area. Ever since Pandora, Phoenix has been working on her sensors. If it had been there, she's have found it almost right away, and transported it aboard. That fact that it took her so long to pin it down to one eighth of the moon means that it isn't there anymore. In other words, we'll have to go elsewhere to find it."

Ajax was silent for a time until an officer knocked on the door. "Aragon has ordered your presence in the Observation Lounge at once." he said.

"Thank you." Ajax answered politely. The officer grunted, but left. "We are GO for fun, Houston." he muttered.

Max led them to the Lounge in question, where Aragon was patiently waiting for them. "What happened?" she asked, seeing the look on his face.

"Nothing extraordinary." Aragon replied. "Except that the only thing that went wrong was what I expected. Your rock was stolen a very long time ago by a group of utterly lethal individuals known as the Harlequins. And, it's probably hidden in an incredibly dangerous, well-hidden and ridiculously well-protected library of forbidden lore." he explained. "It's out of your reach, and unless you can convince me that your enemies can actually pose a credible threat to this library's defenders, we're done here."

Ajax sighed wearily, and sat down, a look of irritation on his face. "Okay then, time for a brief lesson about the Ori.

"Point One: They are what Dr. Daniel Jackson, our leading historian calls 'Ascended Beings'. These beings were once human, but have shed human form to live on a higher plane as pure energy. So far so good, right? The Alterrans, from whom humanity is descended, known also as the 'Ancients', 'Gatebuilders', and the 'good guys' did this too. The difference between the Alterrans and the Ori is that of ideology. The Alterrans practice strict non-interference, the Ori do not.

"This brings us to Point Two: The Ori have a pervasive and oppressive religion that funnels power to them. Even assuming their numbers were equal, on the higher plane, each individual Ori being is stronger than each individual Alterran being.

"Point Three: The Ori have invaded the Milky Way Galaxy, and even now are destroying the freedom that the Tau'ri worked so hard to bring about.

"Point Four: Without that key, we can't get the knowledge and weapons that were left behind for us. Without the weapons and knowledge, Earth dies." With that, Ajax fell silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts before speaking again. "We lost three BC-304s in the span of five minutes, against ships the size of this one. They only have one weapon aboard each ship, but it's enough for complete and total exterminatus in three shots. Are you starting to get an idea here? Their Priors are equivalent to your psykers, and nothing can stop them. The Alterrans won't help us, and the Free Jaffa, which are essentially humans on steroids, took heavier losses than we did! We can't survive against the Ori for more than six, maybe eight months, assuming the Alterrans do what the Alterrans do best: run away from problems. Merlin was the only one with the stones to stand against the Ori, and he's been shut down by the rest of the Alterrans. Where is this library? I'll go there myself if I must…or maybe you'd be willing to take your ship to my reality so you can cut down the Ori? One way or another, they need to be ended, and my back is up against the wall."

"You'd be willing to walk into the Webway?" Aragon questioned in disbelief. "That place is a mess. It's a shattered galaxy-spanning labyrinth that pokes halfway into this realm and Hell. The Black Library is a city-sized construct that moves freely through the Webway. I haven't the slightest idea where it is. The only feasible way in is to be invited by the Harlequins, and there's always a catch to that. But, I take your point, these Ori sound a bit too familiar…As soon as my ship has undergone refit, I'll take you to a place where, -if we are really fortunate- we'll be able to find a Harlequin troupe. Whether or not they'll kill us on sight is something we'll discover when we get there." Aragon stated.

"So, we need to find the homicidal clowns to get to a library of distilled evil in order to get the rock?" Fang clarified.

"Pretty much." Aragon replied cheerily.

"Sounds fun." the Gasman muttered. He turned to Iggy, and said something so quietly that only Aragon, Thelduin and Angel heard it, and that was via telepathy. "Bombs ready, you think?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm." Iggy replied equally quietly.

"Cool. At the 302?"

"Probably. Depends on…things."

"It should be pretty easy." Ajax said. "All we have to do is find the rock. We aren't interested in ANYTHING else, are we?

=/\=

This is the end of Part One of the 'Imperium'. Please tune in next time for part two, where Aragon will probably (almost) kill the annoying featherhead known as Ajax, as well as find the fragment.

Answers to Readers:

Malix2: And it's been a long time once again. The muse appears to have been considerably locked up as of late.

The Layman: Despite frequent attempts on my life, I yet live to draw breath and weave new stories and worlds. I am impervious! (...maybe...) As to your question, authorial authority. I didn't feel like slogging through miles of suspicion and various other problems. This is fiction, and I prefer a feel-good story most of the time. If you want angst and despair and all that rot, I hear Stephanie Mayer published several bindings of toilet paper with words on it... Also, on the point about Max and the others being pushed to the side, I will work on that, but please do remember that Ajax is the 'supermain' character. This story is centered around Ajax more than anything else...something of an origins story.

Master of the Blood Wolves: The Lexicanum is filled with terror, anguish and pain. I'd rather not return there if I don't need to. I am currently under the impression that Warhammer 40k could be summed up as 'All the darkness of humanity, expressed as diversely as possible'. I, for one, am unimpressed with that rotting (or is it rotted?) universe.

NinthFeather: If Nudge screwed something up, she'd have a breakdown, and we'd all need Counselor Deanna Troi to recover from that. Gazzy on the other hand, would probably wind up spacing half of Aragon's vessel, or the Phoenix if he messed something up. Still, your idea has merit. Perhaps I'll cook something up in my Top Secret Bad Guy Laboratory of Ultimately-Destined-To-Fail Doom. Also, I don't really know what to do with the AMP's just yet...it'll come up somewhere, I'm almost certain of it.

Forsaken By All: Yes, he did.