This is a old story which I wrote years ago. Just uploading it gradually to see if anyone enjoys it or has some criticism.


Box of Souls

Prologue

Council chamber

Bel-tan craft world

The human entered our home, our craftworld, alone, clad in shining silver ceramite, or tactical dreadnought armour, as the humans called it, its colour only blemished by the splatter of blood strewn across it. He had a shining halo of light playing around his head that marked him out as a psyker. We thought him bringing our deaths and, in a way we weren't wrong. Our guards were the first to fall. When surrounded, he was asked why he dared trespass. He said he came bearing gifts. Thinking themselves to be mocked by this primitive creature, the guards aimed to strike him down. Surprisingly the human showed mercy. No sooner had they started to strike, the human had them disarmed and unconscious. Even I could not foresee this. For warriors trained to the peek of their abilities to be beaten by a human! As proud as I am, I do not fail to admit this, as a Eldar Farseer of the Bei-tan craft world, I am trained to set aside such petty emotions.

As he stood in the ring of the howling banshees, the warriors of vengeance, that were forming around him, he spoke. I, myself was perched on a throne of star white wraithbone, surrounded by warriors of the seer council, waiting for the ever predictable human to proclaim his authority. To speak of his brilliance or to mock us on our failure as a race. We were, for once, wrong. He opened our deaths.


Background

Delta 4 is a death world, pure and simple. It is much larger than Terra and one planetary rotation would take the same amount of time as 4 rotations of Terra. The surface is a massed jungle with an oxygen level around 40 percent higher than Terra with some added cocktail of toxins making it deadly to most life forms without appropriate filters. A normal human would breath and live for fifteen minutes, after which they feel as though they need more and more intakes of oxygen until their lungs would swell, to such a point that their rib cage would crack open and vital organs would be smothered. This expansion would continue until either the victim's lungs give way or his chest would explode.

However this high oxygen level has allowed flora and fauna to flourish. Plants and animals, especially insects and arachnids, grow to enormous sizes. Unfortunately to prevent these massive animals from consuming them, each plant developed a defense system to protect itself. Almost all flora on Delta 4 could and would kill a human, and even eat one, in a multitude of ways. This also led to the creatures developing vicious methods to gain a foothold in the ever changing food-chain, and would only be too happy to turn on any other creature.

The only clearings are those of the surprisingly large planetary garrison of imperial guard and the spaceport. The planetary garrison consists of mostly light infantry and mechanized scout regiments, but also included some Leman Russ battle tanks. The guards stationed there always employ gas masks as standard, to combat the choking atmosphere. The regiments there are very gung-ho and trigger-happy. Sometimes boredom sets in and they are known to open fire on wildlife that 'got to close' or 'looked at me funny.' The only reason these outposts are kept operational is because of its proximity to a warp gate, from which chaos forces can spill. This gives Chaos war-bands a safe haven to launch raids and even invasions into imperial territory. Though seemingly a useless death world, Traitor forces have always stopped to rendezvous on or ,if occupied by imperial or xeno forces, lay siege to Delta 4. Nicknamed 'Little Terror' because of its two similarities to the 'Eye of terror.' On a star map it almost looks the same but much smaller. It also spits out the same 'Terrors' as the eye...


Command deck of the Grey knight battle barge 'Wings of Redemption'

Orbiting Planet Delta 4

'Status report!' yelled Hubris as the Wings of Redemption obliterated the Word Bearers strike cruiser with broadside after broadside, sending rent metal and dismembered heretics spinning away into the boundless expanse of space.

'Our hull integrity is holding. Void shields are at optimal levels.' replayed the chapter serf, a human assistant that fail to initiate as a space marine but lived to tell the tale. 'We have successfully neutralized the chaos threat.'

Hubris smiled. The Wings of Redemption was renowned within his chapter for its masterfully executed, point-blank broadsides, so this was no surprise. Although he wouldn't mind to have Tech-knight Altar's cold logic advising him at this time. Altar seemed to know exactly when a enemy would strike and predict his movements before he had even made them.

'I would give my nemesis blade to know how he does it' thought Hubris.

Unfortunately since his initiation into the ranks of the Tech-priests of Mars, the red planet, Altar had become silent and liked to keep himself to himself. He was usually found in Deimos, the steel forge, a planet of weapon factories, that orbited Titan, the Grey knights chapter planet, unless off-world on a assignment. As brother-captain of a star cruiser he didn't cross paths with him at the forge and they only met when the Wings of Redemption needed repairs at the Broadsword station, a gargantuan space station that also orbited Titan. Admittedly, this was a lot, because the psychic energy's that help speed the vessel wore on the ships engines and machine spirit. But he never got chance to have a conversation with him that did not involve the maintenance of his ship, usually about a torn hull interior or it's worn and battered machine spirit.

"Incoming! Brace!" shouted a crackling voice on the comms wired into his helmet. Seconds later the ship was wracked with shock waves and many serfs stumbled. "Second contact! Designation: unknown pattern battle barge. Boarding torpedoes launched to our stern! Deck 8."

"Nearest terminator squad to deck 8 report!" barked Hubris.

"Squad Achilles on its way to deck 8. Keep us posted brother." replayed the voice of Justicar Hal.

"May the Emperor guide your blades Grey knights."


Deck 8

"For the Emperor!"

Charging through the Word Bearers soldiers, Hal swung his daemon hammer in a diagonal ark. It smashed into the skull of a berserker, and continuing on its bloody path, marked by the lines of blood streaking from it, into the chest of the man next to him, the force of the blow sending him flying into another. Hal looked around for more foes to face. The chaos marines had used looted boarding torpedoes to penetrate the outer layer of the hull and deliver its payload. In this case, a dozen of Khorne's berserkers, worshipers of the blood god. They had just began to charge towards a weapon platform when squad Achilles had arrived at the scene. Hals armour was slick and droplets fell from every surface of his armour as though he had been caught in a rainstorm, but it was not mere rain but blood. A bellowing skull champion, leader of this boarding party, had thrown a experimental grenade at him. It contained not shrapnel or explosives of any kind, only the lifeblood of some unfortunate soul. It had exploded against his chest and covered him in the red matter. Obviously designed to scare a foe, such as a inferior xeno race or more likely mortals, human. But Hal was a spacemarine and the blood grenade only seemed to make Hal more menacing. He wore terminator armour, that rose his height to over 8 foot and he weighed even more in tons, although he did not show it, thanks to his own enhanced strength and the muscle fibers inside the suit that carried its own weight. His face was covered in a helmet that suited the armour he wore, coloured silver and now painted in blood. It hid the expression on his face, as well as any facial features. He bore the golden lettering of his chapter proudly, the shoulders, knees and chest of his silver ceramite, engraved with the words 'Titan' and 'Honour' as well as the red sword of the Justicars. Teacher, leader and commander of squad Achilles, a squad who's history could be traced to the very beginning of the Grey knight chapter, Hal had only led the squad for a few years, a trivial amount for a spacemarine. He had led the squad after the death of the squads previous Justicar, Haygar who had been killed in the defense of the hive world, Deria.

Like most space marine terminator squads, Hal's squad was composed of five men all fitted in tactical dreadnought armour, almost indestructible armour originally designed to withstand the strength of a plasma core generator. It was now used, like most technology in the 41st millennium, in war. It could withstand anything from anti-tank missiles to armour sundering power weapons. It could also, if completely sealed helmet and all, withstand the vacuum of space and allow the wearer to live almost indefinitely. Unlike most terminator squads, the squad members were equip with much deadlier weaponry. Being grey knights, they all used storm bolters, a double-barreled rifle set side by side, that fired small missiles, or 'bolts,' that on impact, dug into a target and then exploded inside them, causing an appealing and usually gruesome amount of damage. These were traditionally strapped to their left vambrace and was fired by fully clenching their gauntleted fists, so a battle-brother could have his hand free for a double handed grip on his weapon, or to do any other task the knight might need to achieve that required both hands but allowed him to be armed at the same time.

They were also issued a Nemesis force weapon. Each type of Nemesis weapon is chosen by each member to suit his preferences. Squad Achilles had a varied selection of weapons. Hal himself used a daemon hammer. Each hammer, when it impacted against a target, releases a burst of psychic energy that turned a opponents size against him. Slow, but it could make a hell of a mess against large targets like tanks or large creatures not to mention the more man-sized targets he now faced.

Brother Mantos, one of the newest recruits to squad Achilles, used a force sword. It was similar to just a primitive long sword except that the blade was light blue in colour. In reality, it was a marvel of technology. The blade is made of tempered iron, flecked with shards of silver and inset with ancient runes of daemon slaying. In contrast to the primitive materials, the haft and the hilt contained advanced power field generators. Once activated these acted in union with the generator inside tactical dreadnought armour to create a much more powerful energy shield around the bearer.

Brother Pelenas, a grim warrior who had been in squad Achilles longer than Hal, used a pair of falchions. They resemble a force sword in many ways, with a much-reduced hook-ended blade. If the generators inside the hilts are activated, Brother Pelenas can, and does, wield them at incredible speed, whirling around in a tornado of blue flashing blades.

The other two members of Squad Achilles, Brothers Jun, another new addition, and Soran, Hals most trusted companion and friend, who had been brought into the order at the same time as each other, were equip with force halberds. With the same blade similar to that of the force sword and falchions, except that it was set on a long adamantium haft, that gave Brothers Jun and Soran a longer reach. This was invaluable in landing a fatal blow before a enemy has got close enough to swing his weapon.

Brother Soran also used a heavy weapon, forfeiting his storm bolter for a psilencer. Psilencers resemble a three-barreled mini-gun but is twice as deadly, and a thousand times rarer. It fires nothing more than the psychic might of it's wielder, sending bolts of psychic force into a target, these bolt are particularly effective against beings of pure energy, daemons being the foremost of these creatures.

Spinning around on the spot and swinging his hammer, Hal smashed a berserker who was trying to run past him in the chest hitting so hard that he impaled the marine on his hammer. The defiled power armour around the point of impact caved in on itself and in turn making the flesh and bones beneath a bloody ruin as the hammer made a box shaped hole in the berserkers lower chest.

"Second and third breach! Deck 7 and 9." cracked another serf, Hal never remembered their names.

Hal looked at the still hammer-impaled marine who was trying very hard the decide whether to pull himself free or try and attack the knight. The chaos marine looked up at his impaler's visor, but saw no pity, only hatred and contempt burning inside. Hal ended the berserkers life of rage and bloodshed by pointing his storm bolter at the joint of his neck and clenching his fist, splattering yet more blood and gore across his ceramite armour. Pulling his hammer from the now decapitated marine, Hal began to issue orders.

"Pelenas, clean up here! Brother Mantos, Brother Jun, you have deck 7. Soran, deck 9 with me." The runes on the inside of his helmet all turned green in acknowledgement. No other words were needed.


There you have it, hope you enjoyed, let me know if you want me to continue with this or my other story(s).