day 173rd , Year 988, 41st Millennium
Hive Kathion
Deepest level of the Lower Hive
This area was a graveyard of industrial decay—crumbling ceilings and chemical pipelines abandoned to time. Rusted iron walkways and gratings stretched across a landscape usually teeming with scavengers, mutants, outlaws, and lethal fauna.
But now, a heavy silence reigned. The area had been systematically purged by the House Guard of the Korvax family. The only sound echoing through the stillness was a rhythmic, dull thud.
Thump! Thump!
It was the sound of a fist hitting flesh. Near a derelict waste chute, Omega was conducting a brutal interrogation of a rebel leader he had captured after an arduous manhunt.
Galjax, though unbound, collapsed repeatedly. Driven by a fierce ideology and a desperate will to live, he continued to struggle, however hopeless it seemed.
He had been in custody for five days. The House Guard had blockaded and neutralized the rebellion, along with everyone living in the sector. During the siege, Galjax had incited desperate workers to fight to the death, arguing that if they didn't join the revolt, they were doomed anyway. Fighting back was their only gamble for survival.
But the reality was devastating. While the House Guard had sustained heavy casualties, they had deployed weapons of mass destruction with utter indifference to collateral damage. Their objective was the total eradication of the rebels; the civilians were never a consideration.
Once Commander Omega took personal command of the front lines, Galjax's meticulously prepared plans and his entire movement collapsed in a mere two days.
Galjax had attempted several assassinations and ambushes on Omega. He viewed the Commander as nothing more than a mutant lapdog for Lord Valen Korvax—and he was right.
Every ambush failed. This "servant" of Lord Valen was a powerful psyker, a formidable opponent. Galjax had once buried several plasma charges beneath the floor and detonated them as the Commander passed, but Omega emerged without a single scratch.
Galjax realized he lacked the combat prowess and command experience to match this mutant. He had been hunted like vermin until he was backed into a corner like a rabid dog, his remaining comrades slaughtered around him until only he remained to be taken alive.
He knew he was only alive because they wanted information—information he swore they would never get. However, the torture he faced was unlike anything he had anticipated. For five days, Omega had brought him to this desolate place, beating him to the ground, only to let him regain a sliver of hope before crushing him again.
It felt as though the man wasn't human, as if he derived a dark pleasure from the repetition. Galjax was now a map of trauma: massive hematomas, a broken arm, a swollen left eye, a cracked jaw with several missing teeth, and internal hemorrhaging.
The pain was enough to make an ordinary man lose consciousness or divulge everything, but Galjax's iron resolve kept him upright.
In stark contrast, Commander Omega remained untouched. Every time Galjax looked at the man, he felt a surge of pure contempt.
Omega's glowing, pale-purple eyes were vacant and devoid of emotion, a sight that made Galjax's skin crawl. The marks on the Commander's body—scars of heavy past chemical use—only fueled Galjax's hatred. It proved that Lord Valen had appointed an inhuman, drug-addled mutant to lead a House Guard force that was becoming increasingly sadistic under his command.
Galjax surged to his feet, lunging forward to throw a desperate punch with his remaining strength. Omega evaded the strike effortlessly and countered with a crushing blow to Galjax's nose. Galjax hit the floor instantly, his nose shattered and misaligned. His body had finally reached its limit.
Omega rolled his shoulder slightly before crouching beside Galjax. His eyes reflected a deep boredom—the edge of his patience. He could endure much: lust, anger, greed, even the whispers of the Warp. But he was becoming quietly irritable at the rebel leader's stubbornness.
"Who provided you with those weapons and supplies?" Omega asked, his voice flat despite his annoyance.
"Go to hell, you piece of trash," Galjax spat, using his last ounce of strength to hurl bloody saliva at Omega's face, hitting the white bandage covering his right eye. Omega gritted his teeth, let out a soft sigh, and stood up slowly. He delivered a sharp kick to Galjax's side, sending the leader into a pained fetal position.
A moment later, a subordinate House Guard approached with a dataslate in hand.
"We have the data, Commander. He is Nal Galjax, formerly of the Planetary Defence Force (PDF). He was reported missing in action during the war against the Genestealers," the subordinate reported.
Omega considered this. An ex-PDF soldier. It explained why the rebels had managed to inflict such significant damage on his House Guards.
"Continue," Omega said, stepping on Galjax's chest with his heavy boot. He applied pressure until Galjax groaned in agony, ensuring the man couldn't attempt another surprise attack.
"He had a wife and a daughter. His wife was killed during the war. His daughter currently resides in Orphanage No. 11, sir," the subordinate reported in a cold, mocking tone.
Omega felt a flicker of genuine irritation. He was incensed that this rebel was not only a former PDF soldier but that his daughter was currently benefiting from the very policies his master, Lord Valen Korvax, had implemented.
Since taking over House Korvax, Lord Valen had overhauled the welfare for the House Guard and PDF. Families of soldiers killed in the line of duty received pensions, and their orphans were housed in institutions funded personally by the Lord. Despite his grim reputation, the Master had genuinely improved these lives.
Omega loathed rebels, heretics, and mutants. But he loathed ingrates even more—those who bit the hand that fed and protected their own blood.
"Give me the stimulants," Omega ordered a nearby field medic. The medic opened a kit filled with surgical tools and various drugs, handing Omega five injectors.
Omega crouched and expertly slammed all five stimulants into Galjax's neck.
Within seconds, Galjax's body convulsed. His breathing became rapid and panicked before stabilizing. He felt a sudden, artificial surge of vitality. Omega smiled—a terrifying expression when paired with his dead eyes. He knew Galjax's only true weakness was his daughter.
"Why are you doing this? What do you want?" Galjax asked, confused by the sudden medical intervention.
"I just need you to be conscious enough to see the next part," Omega replied.
"You'll get nothing from me, you tyrant's lapdog!" Galjax shouted, struggling to his feet and looking for an escape, though he was surrounded.
"Oh? I wonder how your sweet little daughter is doing right now..." Omega said cryptically. He gestured toward the dark waste chute nearby—a hole that dropped straight into the Underhive. Anything thrown down there would be torn apart by horrific creatures or the desperate, feral humans living in the depths. A living body dropped there wouldn't even leave bones behind.
"You bastard! She has nothing to do with this! Don't you touch her!" Galjax screamed, his defiance replaced by raw terror.
"Can you guarantee I won't, rebel? Even if the Ecclesiarchy runs that orphanage, do you think I'd hesitate to snatch her? I know plenty of 'high-born' deviants who would pay a high price for a girl like her," Omega sneered, closing the distance. In truth, he found such people revolting; it was a hollow threat. Though he was capable of killing without remorse, he had no stomach for that kind of depravity.
"No! Leave her alone!" Galjax roared. Fuelled by the stimulants and fatherly rage, he swung a fist with enough force to shatter bone.
But Omega simply stepped aside and delivered a punishing uppercut. Galjax reeled back, his mind swimming in a chemical haze. Omega followed up with a leg sweep, sent Galjax crashing to the floor.
"Go fetch the girl. Tell the orphanage director I ordered it personally," Omega commanded his subordinates. Two guards nodded and began to depart. Galjax tried to scramble after them, desperate to protect his child.
Thud!
Omega's foot caught Galjax in the chest, pinning him down. "Please... don't hurt her..." Galjax begged, his spirit finally breaking.
"Then give me the information. Who are your conspirators? Who supplied the high-level technology?" Omega asked calmly. He figured he was being quite generous; under anyone else's watch, Galjax's entire family would already be corpses.
"In your dreams," Galjax hissed, still clinging to his ideals. Omega sighed and continued the physical "persuasion" until his subordinates returned.
Thirty minutes later, Galjax had yet to speak. He was a wreck. Omega took a sip of water from his canteen, watching Galjax stare at the water with parched lips.
Footsteps echoed from the entrance. Two House Guards returned. One carried a young girl. She was bound and gagged with tape, her eyes wide with terror as she struggled.
"Oh... look who's here," Omega said. He grabbed Galjax by the hair, forcing him to look at his daughter as she was placed near the edge of the waste chute.
"No... no! Not her! Please, I beg you!"
Omega signaled his guard to rip the tape off the girl's mouth. Recognition flared in her eyes. "Daddy? Is that you?!" she cried out. Galjax looked devastated. He hadn't truly believed they would be this ruthless.
"I thought you were dead! I was so scar—" The guard slapped the tape back over her mouth. He then handed a revolver to Omega. Omega inspected the weapon's craftsmanship before spinning the cylinder.
"Listen closely, Galjax. She has a one-in-five chance of survival. If you don't answer me within ten seconds, she goes down the chute." Omega waved the revolver in front of Galjax, removed one round, spun the chamber, and leveled the barrel at the girl's head.
The girl's eyes filled with primal fear. She looked at her father—broken, bloody, and defeated on the floor.
1...
2...
3...
The tension was suffocating. Galjax was drenched in sweat, caught between his ideology and his blood.
8...
9...
"ALRIGHT! I'll tell you everything! Just don't hurt her!!!" Galjax screamed.
Omega slowly lowered the gun and handed it back to his guard. A thin, grim smile touched his lips.
"I thought you might prefer this method. Now, speak."
He dragged Galjax against the wall, and the true data retrieval began.
_________________________________
Author's Note: Rytus and Por'el are definitely in trouble now.