A shadow darted from a nearby pillar, peppering the Dubuque's cover with high velocity shells.

One shell puched through the crumbling rockrete and went straight into Dubuque's artificial arm. Cursing aloud, Dubuque released the Pain Inhibitor circut breakers on his arm, pulled out his stubber and whirled out to face his opponent.

The second he broke cover, Dubuque knew he was out matched. Somehow, Fresk had followed him. All the proof he needed of this was in front of him. Two combat servitors were making their way through the forest of pillars towards him.

One of them, a heavy set brute with both arms removed and replaced with the mounting for a Heavy Bolter seemed to be setting up for another shot. The other, taller, slimmer with arms replaced with a Needle rifle and with a head crammed with delicate sensor equipment, already seemed to be drawing a bead.

Dubuque spun, feeling the needle miss him by mere inches as he pulled off a series of shots at the Sniper servitor. The burst of shells from the Autopistol pattered across the servitors armour, but a hollow point round from Dubuque's stubber slammed through the sensors on the servitors face and slammed straight into and through it's brain.

As the first servitor collapsed, the other opened fire on Dubuque. Dubuque dived out of the way, but too slowly. As he dived, a bolt shell slammed into his already damaged artificial arm, blowing it off and sending Dubuque's autopistol skittering over the cracked flagstones into the darkness. Knocked out of the air, all Dubuque could do was crawl for cover behind a fallen pillar, deafened by the sounds of shell after shell slamming into his cover.

Pulling the pin from a smoke grenade and hurling it in the approximate direction of his assailant, Dubuque sprinted from his hiding location, firing his stubber off handed at the servitor. Shots going wild, Dubuque managed to get to cover before the returning shots annilihated the walls behind him.

The smoke grenade had dispersed it's contents through the hall and visibility had dropped. Dubuque could see the laser sight of the Servitors Heavy Bolter dancing through the air. Slowly, as not to attract any attention to himself, Dubuque crawled on his belly until he was clear from the servitors arc of fire.

Slowly drawing the sword strapped across his back and ignoring the vile whispers it made, he crept towards the servitors unarmoured back. When he was in range, he swept the Daemon blade through the air at the servitors neck, severing it instantly.

Panting with exertion, Dubuque walked over to where his arm had fallen. Stooping to retrieve it, a clear voice rang out over the battlefield.

"Ah, Dubuque! So glad you could make it!" Fresk. Cursing under his breath, Dubuque stood and turned to see the Heretic-Magos.

Fresk stood framed in the arch that Dubuque had only recently ran through. Standing there, holding only a small laspistol loosely in one hand, Fresk looked nothing like the Arch-Heretic he was. Raising the laspistol level with Dubuque's head, Fresk nodded to Dubuque's blade.

"The sword, Dubuque, drop it. Now."

Dubuque let the sword drop to the ground.

"Very good, you're learning. You know Dubuque, you might even make it out of this alive. Now...the Artifact"

"You'll never be able to understand it, Fresk. Never be able to use it."

With these words, Dubuque took the amulet from beneath his coat and threw it to the ground. Fresk smiled and picked it up, laspistol still leveled on Dubuque.

"And now, Inquisitor, the time has come for you to leave." Smiling softly he pulled the trigger on his laspistol as Dubuque sent a mental message to his sword, calling it to his hand and felt the spirit in the sword moving upwards to deflect the shot. Then the world went white as the Fallen Tech-priest flung a Photon Flare at Dubuques feet. By the time his vision had recovered, Fresk had gone.