Sons of Malice 40k

by Son of Malice

An account of the Sons of Malice space marine chapter. Part one focuses on their betrayal and fall from grace. Part two will record the 3rd company's mission to capture a powerful relic from the Inquisition and also introduce their new sacred ground the Labyrinth.

Sons of Malice

It was beautiful once, Scelus. A planet of dense, dark forests and jagged mountains. The air was always cold and rain lashed the tops of trees and mountains alike for weeks without ceasing. Under the cover of the trees the light was always dim, shadows more common than clear sight. Terrible animals, if such horrors could be called that, stalked their prey in these perfect conditions. We were that prey, the descendants of humans who colonized this world thousands of years ago. Then the Imperium found our world and everything we knew for generations changed at the whim of one man. A new purpose was decreed for us, to be tested by the conditions of our homeworld, our bodies honed to provide the Imperium with recruits for a new chapter of inhuman Space Marines. That was before we were betrayed, that was before we found our true path, and that was before the terrible beauty of Scelus was burned by the fires of war. Though we are now outcasts from the Imperium we have kept our chapter's name to both remind us where we came from and what we are now. As it was written in the Index Astartes over three thousand years ago we are, now and forever, the Sons of Malice...

~Kathal, Anarch of the Sons of Malice

Sons of Malice

Ba'Kel Draak-Chapter Master of the Sons of Malice

Kathal-1st Company Captain/Anarch of the Sons of Malice

Oeadvi-Chief Librarian/Prophet of the Outcast God

Erstol-3rd Company Captain

Athric-3rd Company Sergeant

Brother Cerus-3rd Company Tactical Marine

Tovac-8th Company Captain

Physo-Commander of the Lex Talionis

Inquisitorial Forces

Pietas-Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor

Lo Sha Sun-Death Cult Assassin attached to Inquisitional Retinue

Savina-Ecclesiarch priest attached to Inquisitorial Retinue

Uulia-Canoness of the Tears of the Emperor Convent

Lorae-Celestian squad leader

Part One:

Fall of the Sons

1

Heretics

Wrath of the Sons

Daemons

Erstol dropped down in a crouch behind one of the many wrecked Planetary Defense Force armored personal carriers. His squad quickly followed him, moving like ghosts as they spread out and moved in for the first attack on the rebels of hive world Cilix 225. As the one hundred and twenty one warriors of the 3rd company positioned themselves to unleash a devastating surprise attack on the heretics who dared attempt to defy the Imperium Erstol found himself concerned. The Inquisitor that had requisitioned the chapter, Pietas by name, had given them sparse details on the heretics themselves let alone their weapons or leadership. All she had seen fit to reveal was the traitor's plan to detonate several explosives to destroy the massive pylons that held the hive city above the waters of the ocean world. While some Inquisitors defied the normal view of their dangerous and secretive order Pietas was one who made other militant Inquisitors look meek and humble by comparison. She had simply appeared at Scelus, the chapter's homeworld, and demanded the whole chapter, all eleven companies, be mobilized immediately to strike down the heresy that was rife within the hive cities of Cilix 225. After much argument with Chapter Master Ba'Kel Draak, Chief Librarian Oeadvi and 1st company captain Kathal she had grudgingly accepted two simple facts. The first was that, though she was a ranking Inquisitor within the powerful Ordo Hereticus, the Sons of Malice had been founded on Scelus as one of the Astertes Praeses for a very specific reason, defense of the area of space near the Eye of Terror. Whatever power she carried it was the High Lords of Terra themselves that had stipulated that at no time should the fighting strength of the Sons of Malice ever be less than four full companies based in Scelus and ready to strike out against Chaos incursions. The second reason was simply that one full company with support would easily be enough to subdue the hive world.

Argue and threaten though she might Pietas had been forced to concede the first point but demanded at least two companies to root out the heresy. With the fourth, eighth, tenth, and eleventh companies being required for garrison duty and the second, fifth, sixth, seventh, and ninth companies already engaged in battle in various war zones the dubious honor fell to Erstol's third company and the pride of the chapter, Kathal's first company. Neither had been filled with any real excitement at the prospect of serving under the Inquisition but servants of the Golden Throne, and especially Space Marines, did not need to be. These were beings (hard to call them men with the legacy of the Emperor pumping through their veins) who had fought in more war's than most men had hairs on their head. Battle was common and often hard won. Not for the Sons of Malice the berserker rages of the Blood Angels or the feral intensity of the Space Wolves, nor the arrogance of the Ultramarines. No, the Sons fought in a very different manner from most Chapters, preferring the silent advance and stealth to battle cries and brazen displays of courage. In organization too they differed from the vast majority of their brother Chapters. Instead of the standard ten company chapter they had eleven, instead of the normal hundred battle-brother company they used a hundred and twenty-one, and instead of only the first company being composed of veterans and using hallowed suits of Tactical Dreadnought, or Terminator, Armor both the first and the eleventh companies shared these honors. The Sons had met much resistance for these practices but these complaints soon faded under the sheer number of victories won by this odd Chapter.

The time for the assault was almost upon them and it was time to confirm his company's readiness, "Erstol to all squads, sound off in order". As one corner of his mind acknowledged the squads' readiness he focused most of his attention on the plan of attack. The heretics had taken the planetary governor's fortress and had barricaded themselves against the expected counterattack. Pietas had been all for a full frontal assault of Astartes backed by Imperial Guard and battle-sisters of the Tears of the Emperor convent but Kathal had been adamant, no frontal assault for his chapter. Instead Erstol's company would worm their way into the fortress by cover of night and then, using calculated attacks would take down all the frontal defenses and seize the main gate that lead into the depths of the fortress. After doing so they would leave the battle for the fortress above to the guard and sisters of battle. Erstol's company would regroup and use secondary tunnels to gain entry to the depths while several Predators and Land Raiders put just enough pressure on the main gateway to simulate a full scale assault. After descending into the fortress Erstol's unit and three other squads were to secure several out of the way storage areas. In these rooms they would activate portable teleportation beacons that would allow Kathal and three other Terminator squads to deep strike directly into the lowest depths of the fortress at a moment's notice. After that the 3rd company would seek out the leader of the uprising and dispatch him.

In reality the Sons of Malice didn't expect Kathal's company would even see action, the hundred and twenty-one battle-brothers of 3rd company were well used to this type of attack and with back up supplied by the guard and sisters of battle the ill-disciplined and barely equipped heretics were as good as dead. Still it was standard procedure for the Sons to set up these beacons, either as means of reinforcement or escape and though the Emperor might protect it never hurt to take precautions.

His squads had all finished their sound off and the first squad was ready, weapons sighted, ready to deliver swift death in an instant. "Erstol to Kathal…..and Pietas" he voxed. His lip twitched into a smile as he imagined the reaction of the inflammable Inquisitor to his near omission of her name. "Kathal here Captain" "INQUISITOR Pietas here as well, are we finally ready to dispense the Emperor's justice Erstol? Or do we need a few more days of sneaking about like Eldar scum?" Erstol smile vanished at that and he was about to respond with a less than-well-thought-out retort but thankfully Kathal beat him to it "Inquisitor Pietas, my apologies. You do not know our chapter well. Many suppose that our silence and patience mark us as weak, that we are not truly the Emperor's Chosen if we do not lunge into battle with roars of fury. Those enemies that thought so are all long dead. We bring as swift and sure a death as any of the Officio Assassinorm and we fight without shouts to better hear the screams of our enemies as we unleash the Emperor's wrath on them. Allow me to show you how a full company of the Sons of Malice fights. Captain Erstol, Execute." At that one word one hundred twenty-one guns barked only once, one hundred twenty-one heretics fell dead or dying, the six interlocking main gates vanished in massive explosions, the power grids running the defenses went dead, and the vox network for the heretics went totally silent, all that in less than four seconds. In the next thirty the remaining gates mysteriously opened and remained locked that way, over three hundred heretical men and women died, and the gate to the deeper reaches of the fortress collapsed onto the ground as its hinges exploded outward. By three minutes the main enemy forces had been sectioned off using explosions to collapse their entrances and exits and the first land raider was moving into position. Total causalities in 3rd Company of the Sons of Malice: 2 Total enemy casualties: 3600 estimated, a twentieth of the known enemy forces above ground.

Allinallnotabadstart thought Erstol as his men moved to their secondary locations and prepared for the next phase of the assault. The main gate was already being deluged by lasgun fire from two predator tanks and the initial land raider and the foolish heretics seemed to be paralyzed by the swiftness of the attack. Maybe Pietas had a point Erstol thought grudgingly; this rabble couldn't hope to contest his forces. Still, better to play it safe for the time being. "Erstol to entry squads, commence breach on my mark...3...2...1...Go." The countdown was not just for rhythm or show, at the exact moment Erstol's squads breached the grates, doors, or walls of their entry locations the Imperial Guard's long range artillery regiments first salvo hit the fortress. With luck any explosions that might have been heard would be put down to the shelling. Like shadows the marines moved in, finding no resistance at first. After a few minutes of careful advance they reached the storage rooms designated for teleport beacons and secured them. Still no resistance and this worried Erstol more than any screaming mob he had expected to find. Where was the enemy? Surely they couldn't all be at the main gate?

"Commander Kathal, Inquisitor Pietas, we have secured the teleport locations. Request permission to proceed to final assault." For a moment the air was heavy with silence as his men stood primed and ready awaiting only the word to bring the fight to the enemy leaders in the depths of this citadel. Finally Inquisitor Pietas' voice echoed through the vox-net "Granted Captain, bring the Emperor's justice to this scum" With a nod from Erstol the teleport beacons were activated and then his men moved to the open gate that led into the depths of the fortress.

From the shadows that were far deeper than any normal darkness a solitary figure watched the advance of the 3rd company. His ancient robes covered a type of power armor not used for over ten thousand years. A sword hung sheathed at his side, his fingers playing over it as he nodded in approval of the tactics the Sons of Malice. Shades of Alpherius himself in their methods, no wonder some in the Imperium were unsettled by them. Behind an ornate helmet a smile touched the figure's lips. Little did they know that they were trapped in the web of fate, that every action they had made and were about to had already been foreseen and altered ever so slightly to lead them right here, right now, in these perfect circumstances. They didn't know but even if they did it wouldn't matter, it was already too late.

Sorcery...Erstol could practically smell it. The further down his men went the more Erstol's apprehension screamed into his battle trained mind. In his experience the only reason for the lack of enemy forces was that they were guarding something even more important, something that could turn the tide of a battle. Intelligence reports suggested that the explosives that the traitor's intended to use to sink the city into the ocean were located somewhere in these depths. Finally the company reached the final gate, the inner sanctum, and halted awaiting orders. A hellish light spilled from the door, ever shifting and harsh. Erstol knew that whatever was in there was not of this world and he steeled his soul. Erstol felt pride and anger burning hot in his veins, now let these pitiful fools who tried foul sorcery try to hide from the Emperor's vengeance. Stealth would not serve here, now was the time for fury. With a quick gesture the doors were rigged to blow inwards and he began the count. "3...2...1...Breach." As the doors fell Erstol caught his first glimpse of what the heretics had wrought inside and he felt his fury rise to incandescent levels at the terrible image he saw before him. Thousands of bodies littered the ground, twisted in unnatural ways, scarred with unholy runes of summoning. Ten of thousands of living humans chanted and gestured wildly, whipping the very air into a malignant fury. Hundreds of mutated and twisted former humans shuffled mindlessly around a huge altar in the center of the carnage. Standing beside it were two figures, one was a man, tall and powerfully built with an aura of command. The other being was a massive humanoid vulture-like creature. Even the lowliest marine in Erstol's company recognized this creature. A Lord of Change, one of the greater demons of Tzeentch.

The first volley of fire from the Sons of Malice tore into the shambling mutants and heretics bringing many to the ground but the Lord of Change and the man seemed not even to notice. Erstol could see power flickering out from the altar, lazily licking like a flame from corpse to corpse and he felt his blood run cold. The bodies gasped and the runes burned as bright as suns and one by one the bodies exploded. Emerging from the gore stood hundreds of demons of Tzeentch, Flamers, Horrors, even Screamers. A force from the warp itself was as formidable a foe as could be imagined and Erstol knew that this was no time for pride "Kathal, contact made. Corruption is present, demon force, approximately five hundred in number along with thousands of heretic filth. Request all possible back up immediately." Before he could even be sure his message had gotten out the man near the altar slammed his staff into the ground and instantly the vox network went silent. Erstol Knew there was only one possible means of survival, perfect defense. Ripping his helmet off he yelled out his orders "All squads form up for total defense, hold the gateway, reinforcement is on the way."

As his company formed up the demons and base traitors were readying themselves for the assault and that slight delay gave the Sons of Malice the opportunity to strike first. The moment every squad got into its position it opened up on the demons. From behind the lines devastator marines brought their heavy weapons to bear. Demons were ripped apart, sent screaming back in to the immaterium that had birthed them, cultists were atomized by bolter fire and for a moment it looked like the fight would be a simple one. Then the enemy struck back. Eldritch fire flared from inhuman arms and mouths and with screams of madding intensity, lasguns opened fire as heretics and demons alike charged the Sons of Malice. Claws and balefire clashed with bolter and chainsword. Erstol stood at the front of the battle, fighting as befitted a Son of Malice, with fury and cool precision. Every strike a calculated, every block setting up for a counter attack and following the doctrines of his Chapter the battle-brothers fought as one, each defending the other with sword, bolter or even body.

After the initial rush that threatened to overwhelm the company equilibrium developed, for every demon that was killed another rose and for every heretic sent to his grave another charged forward. Erstol knew he had to destroy the Lord of Change and that sorcerer near the altar. "First squad form on me, we will take the fight to the enemy." he yelled above the noise of battle and death "The rest of you I need as much covering fire as you can safely give" His squad signaled their readiness and for one second the combined fire of his whole company blasted a hole in the demon ranks. The hole was only there for a second but to a space marine that was more than enough time. Erstol led his squad through the enemy line and after a brief attempt to stop them the demons continued their assault on the rest of 3rd company. Erstol led his men at a run towards the altar and was surprised at the indifference the demons had shown towards his advance, something must be up. As the squad moved to within thirty feet of the altar his fears were confirmed. With a croaking birdlike noise the Lord of Change made a sweeping gesture with its talons and waves of shimmering light assaulted the marines. Erstol felt as if his body was being shattered, bone by bone, and his mind screamed with the pain of the psychic attack. Behind him the rest of his company was in a similar plight, writhing on the ground and in tremendous pain. The Lord of Change made horrible cawing noise and returned its attention to the altar.

Erstol tried to move, tried to raise his sword and charge his enemy, but the pain was so intense that it was difficult to resist curling into a ball let alone standing. With an effort he forced himself to speak "Squad sound off, who's still alive?" he forced the words between gritted teeth. Five voices responded, each strained by the effort it took to speak through such devilry. Erstol cursed at that, every marine lost was a blow to the chapter. He could hear the battle behind him and he knew instinctively that his men were on the verge of being overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the enemy. He could see the Greater Demon and his human ally weaving more sorcerous energy and realized what they were doing. Powered by thousands of deaths the Lord of
Change and his human ally were going blast the supports of the city to bits sinking it into the cold waters of Cilix. The demons would survive and maybe even some of the cultists, protected by the reality bending powers of their demon master, but millions of normal men and women in the hive city would die and their deaths would be a massive offering to the dark gods. Such an offering would almost certainly open a warp portal that would allow torrents of demons to cross the boundary between warp and realspace. The entire world might even disappear into the warp itself, a plaything for the amusement of the ruinous powers. Almost as bad this would mean the destruction of a full company of his chapter, his company, and this he could not allow. The pain that crippled him was in his mind, it was foul warp energy that assailed him and by the Emperor he would not lie here like a weakened child as his men died. His hate burned like molten iron in his veins and he gritted his teeth against the sorcery that wracked him with pain. Moving slowly at first he rose to his feet, his eyes locked on his enemies, letting every pain he felt mobilize him to action rather than paralyze him. All that existed in his world was the necessity to break free and destroy the chaos filth that had blighted this world. Suddenly he began to run, all pretense of discipline lost to him now as the need to bring the Emperor's wrath to bear against his foes overrode all other thoughts.

They had almost completed the ritual spell they were preparing when Erstol reached them, the very air smelled of blood and terror, and only their arrogance gave Erstol the time he needed to get so close. No man, Astartes or not, should have broken out of the web of pain and misery they had unleashed so quickly and so they hadn't bothered to raise wards against an attack. With a mighty leap Erstol jumped and landed right on the altar, driving his sword through it. With an explosion the spell was undone, launching Erstol into the air and throwing the man into a wall and the Demon almost fifty feet away into a group of cultists. Erstol landed amongst his squad and for a moment he was dazed by the fall. The duties of a captain called however and so with aching pains he rose once more, this time to finish the fight.

The Demon was the most important target Erstol knew but he would need the help of his squad to deal with it. Unfortunately the demon had vanished and until some sign revealed it they were painfully exposed to a magical assault. There was only one thing to do, charge. "First squad, assault formation. Sergeant Athric, lead them in" "Sir? What do you intend?" "Find me that demon Athric, I will deal with the heretic witch that brought all this insanity." With a quick nod Athric placed a hand on his captain's left shoulder guard, on the symbol of their chapter, the halved black and white skull. "Strike him down with the vengeance of the unknown primarch himself and we will find that demon of yours." With that Athric turned and led his remaining squad-mates towards where the demon had fallen.

Erstol didn't watch them for more than a second, with a powerful psyker at hand he had to finish this fight quickly or he might end up no more than a charred ceramite shell of burnt meat. He marked the place that he had seen the pskyer scum fall and cautiously began his advance, sword and bolt pistol gripped firmly and ready to attack. From a distance he heard a rhythmic chant rising to a shrieking crescendo. Darkness shrouded Erstol and the Psyker in a large circle, this fight was not to be interrupted. "Foolish Astartes, you cannot stop the Changer of Ways. He will remake this world in his image just as he will the whole universe in time". The voice seemed to come from a hundred different directions at once and in the darkness it was impossible to know where the psyker was hiding. Erstol closed his eyes, they were doing him no good anyway, and focused solely on listening. Tuning out the various noises of the battle he listened for any hint of breath, any scuffle of feet, even the faint heartbeat that only a space marine would be able to mark."You cannot stop us, even if we fall here our God's plan still unfolds, the same plan that struck down your precious corpse-emperor." He'stryingtoenrageme Thought Erstol tryingtomakemelashout...butwhy? Shifting his weight slightly aimed his bolt pistol at a random point in front of him and fired one shot. Almost as soon as the flash subsided he heard a roaring crackling sound coming from behind him. Guided by sound he dived to the side as some bolt of warp magic streaked by him.

The blast knocked Erstol to his knees, his armor burnt and smoking. The blast had almost missed him but had caught on his right shoulder guard. Had it not been for his roll it would have cut right through him. Adrenaline pumping he focused even harder to hear anything that would lead him to his foe. As he listened in total silence he considered what he had learned from his gambit, what his foe had unintentionally shown him...he was as blind as Erstol in this sphere.

Orkalis was frustrated. Most opponents he had faced ran around in his globe of darkness shooting and swearing, easy to toy with and pick off. A few trusted their reflexes and dodged the first few blasts but eventually they would tire and find death at his hands. Not this one. His stillness was absolute, his movements nonexistent until the precise second that he had to dodge. Orkalis was both impressed at his prey's skill and angry that he was being beaten at his own game. Back when he had first sold his soul to the Ruinous Powers he had been given the gift of this spell and his senses had been enhanced. The Gods demanded bloodsport and this game amused them. Orkalis found himself wishing he had been gifted with a mutation that would allow him to see through the darkness but sublimated that thought, that would ruin the Gods fun. Still though, this was taking far too long, he needed to finish this one and regroup with Revhagigethamatol before long, these space marines were only the first wave, more would follow. They had to complete the ritual that would open a large demon portal otherwise the battle would be lost before it had even truly started.

Suddenly he sensed something, a quick movement to his left, a clank of metal, probably a distraction, but where had it come from? His question was spoiled by several more clanks...what was this fool doing? Throwing things to try and locate his foe? Orkalis had expected better from such a foe. "You cannot find me by throwing stones, insect, I am everywhere. I am the darkness, I am the void I am the devistaSIOOARGGGGGH!" Orkalis was blown cleanly through his globe of darkness, shattering it, and landed hard yards away. Barely breathing, unable to stand let alone fight, all he could do was watch the armored figure of the Astartes walk slowly towards him, a shiny metal object in his hand. "They weren't stones actually, that would have been foolish. No heretic, those were GRENADES. Let me show you one up close" With a contemptuous flick of his wrist Erstol tossed the live grenade in a perfect arc to land with a "thud" on Orkalis' chest. The would be sorcerer-king of Cilix didn't even have time to compose a death curse before the blinking green light flashed red and a second later the Melta grenade that Erstol had been saving exploded, utterly incinerating Orkalis in less than three seconds.

The battle was still raging as Erstol looked out onto the battlefield, his men still held against the ravening warp-beasts and insane cultists. Still no sign of Kathal or his Terminators though, maybe his vox hadn't gotten through. Regardless Erstol's duty remained, purge the heretic, suffer not a demon to live, and by the Emperor his company would do that duty with a vengeance. Now there was the demon to deal with. He couldn't see his squad at first and with the vox down he couldn't hear them either. "Athric! Report! Where are you?" Erstol's shout carried over the roar of battle but he heard no answer from the redoubtable warrior. Suddenly he heard a shrieking cry from an area to his right that was shrouded in smoke followed by a sound like ice shattering. The smoke parted as the body of one of his marines came flying through it. The battleplate was cracked in two across the chest and blood was pouring out of it. Even without his helmet's sensors he knew that the wound was mortal, maybe thirty seconds remained before his squadmate would be in the Emperor and the Unknown Primarch's care."Brother-captain..." wheezed the Marine "Yes Brother Cerus" Erstol leaned close to catch the ragged whisper coming from the dying marine "The demon is strong, only Athric and Ivoan remain...don't underestimate...its….speed." Cerus was fading fast "Watch for...it...in the air..."

"Yes Brother, I will avenge you and the rest of our brothers"

"Thank..you captain...Strike for the Emperor and the Primarch...".

"His wrath shall guide my hand and vengeance shall undo our foe"

"Vengeance...is all...we live for"

Erstol couldn't see through the helmet but beneath ceramite plating and optical display Cerus was smiling as he died, content in the knowledge that his duty to captain, Chapter, and Imperium had been honorably done and that it was not in vain. His captain would succeed where he had fallen and the progenoid genes in his neck would be implanted into an aspiring Son of Malice to transform them from man into Astartes. He would live on in the blood of warriors, warriors from his own homeworld of Scelus, and his name would be remembered. As the light faded from his eyes he saw Erstol running towards the smoke that obscured the Demon, watched him vanish, and in the last seconds of his life he felt a hand touch his shoulder, saw a masked face before him, and heard words that gave his last instant of consciousness more meaning than every moment in his entire life combined.

Athric was crouched behind a wall of bodies as Erstol came running up. "Report Sergeant, where is the beast?" Athric gestured towards the ceiling with his bolter "Somewhere up there sir, he strikes with sorcery and remains out of reach. How shall we proceed sir?" With a sardonic smirk Erstol stood out from the makeshift cover "We bait him down here..." and without waiting to hear Athric's protest Erstol walked slowly out into the open. "Demon! Come out! I have already sent your mewling lackey to meet the Emperor's judgment, would you like to join him?" From above him there was an angry shriek and a blast of lightning which he barely managed to dodge. Without pausing he continued taunting the warp beast. "Come down and fight me coward! Your kind can't hope to defeat men of courage when you are too busy hiding in fear!" an outraged squawk and a blast of fire that singed his armor and caught him in the chest was the demon's response. Knowing that he couldn't take many more blasts like that Erstol filled his lungs with air and bellowed "THEY SHOULD HAVE CALLED FOR A BLOODTHIRSTER! AT LEAST THEY WOULD PROVE A CHALLENGE WORTHY OF A BOLTER ROUND! AT LEAST IT WOULD FIGHT INSTEAD OF HIDING IN THE SHADOWS LIKE A MISERABLE DARK ELDAR RAID..." With a horrible screech the Lord of Change, spurred by this last insult came streaking down from the ceiling, the tip of its staff bathed in a hellish violet aura and roiling with dark lightning. Expecting this furious charge Erstol easily dived to the side, what he didn't expect was the enraged Lord of Change to slam his crackling staff into the ground and release all the pent up energy it contained. With a massive explosion the ground around the demon exploded and the remaining space marines were thrown away like leaves in a wind.

Erstol was barely conscious, his whole body jarred both from the impact and the unholy sorcery that had caused it. He tried to rise, to fight, but his faculties hadn't quite returned when a clawed hand grabbed him about the neck and pulled him up to look straight into the eye of the Lord of Change Revhagigethamatol. "You puny, insignificant mortal...you DARE to compare me unfavorably to one of those lumbering brutes...I am one of the Changer of Way's finest! I will tear you apart and use your skin to chronicle this world's damnation!" The Demon's breath was rank and through the haze Erstol couldn't help but be vaguely amused at the human speech croaking out of the beaked mouth. He was about to pass out from lack of air when suddenly the pressure at his neck disappeared and he fell to his knees. With a rush his senses returned just in time to see the demon screeching in pain as both its wings fell severed to the ground, cut away by a perfectly controlled 'X' strike from the lightning claws wielded by a Space Marine in ancient Terminator armor, Kathal had finally arrived.

Revhagigethamatol's scream did not signal the end of the fight but with such a first strike victory was inevitable. With cold precision Kathal dueled the demon, each strike biting into the unnatural flesh of the Lord of change, never giving it a moment's rest. At the same time Erstol, his sword recovered, would lunge in at any opening, harrying the demon even further. The demon had no opportunity for a spell, no opening for attack, and no means of defense against the disciplined strikes of the Space Marines. Finally, with a coordinated strike of chainsword and lightning claw, the demon was hamstrung and with no means of support it fell to the ground. It tried to raise one arm, perhaps to weave a spell, and Kathal's boot came smashing down to pin the arm to the floor. "Brother Erstol, as ever your sword work is masterful."

"And as ever Kathal you are late"

"I thought I'd leave you some sport before I made my appearance...that and we lost contact when the vox-net went dead"

"Excuses"

"What of this one? Shall I make an end of it?"

"No, I owe this beast a swift trip back to the warp for the death it has caused."

"Then by all means Brother"

With deliberation Erstol raised his sword for one last sweep but the demon's laughter stopped him for a moment. "Already...lost...human...HIS web is drawn tight...none….escape..." With a swift slash the demon's head was severed in a flash. "And no demon speaks the truth" spat Erstol before turning away and moving off to meet up with his victorious company.

As the Space Marines mopped up the few remaining demons and heretics a figure glided over to the remains of Revhagigethamatol and an armored hand reached out to pick up the head of the demon. The eyes flickered open "It is done" the decapitated head croaked "I have caused the chaos you demanded, now pay your debt. Release me from the binding." slowly the masked figure shook its head "But...you promised...me...release..." slowly the figures other hand reached out and a single finger touched the demon's forehead. From that touch a fiery symbol appeared on the demon, instantly silencing its croaking protest. With a gesture the demon's form disappeared, transformed into an azure mist that was drawn into the outstretched palm of the being's hand, coalescing into a ball of sapphire light. The figure's fist closed over the glowing orb and a pulse of energy caused the being's gauntlet to flare for a second. With a glance towards the Sons of Malice the figure walked towards the shadows from whence it had come. Things were moving just as planned...

2

Tears of the Emperor

Lex Talionis

Dark Suspicions

It never ceased to amaze Erstol, the rapid return to "normalcy" that occurred in the wake of a world being reclaimed. It was almost as if the populace had done their best to forget about the uprising at the hive world's Imperial Stronghold. Within hours after the battle autocrats were barging their way in, each seeking to take the place of the late Governor. Administarium bureaucrats soon followed, bemoaning the cost of repairing the damage done in the assault, seeking "aid" from the strike force that had just finished causing all that damage. "If Chaos doesn't kill us then these parasites surely will" Thought Erstol bitterly "The one day they scream for aid to root out and evil and the next they beg and plead for the very wealth that caused the problem in the first place!" Though as yet unconfirmed the Sons had been given access to the Ordo Hereticus information on Cilix 225 and what Erstol had found had filled him with resignation. The cult that he had just helped destroy had been started by a nobleman named Orkalis, the psyker that Erstol had immolated in the battle. Apparently it was his ambition that had led him into using his talents and that had blinded him to the dangers inherent to such a course. Using his powers Orkalis had suddenly jumped from a relative nobody to a social super nova. Carefully he had whispered here and there, words of mystery and intrigue. Speaking of powers that the Emperor, beloved by all, had made available to him he took on the role of a prophet. Many nobles where attracted by this seeming saint, others went along for the ride, some few stayed out of the whole thing entirely but what Orkalis was selling to any that would listen was that most poisonous of emotions, Hope. It was the hope of a better world and a brighter tomorrow that had led the elite and the down trodden alike down the path of damnation. It was either wealthy idleness or crushing despair that had seduced their souls. They had turned from the Emperor's light long before they had ever known what it was they were doing and, of course, by then it was too late.

Howmanytimes? Erstol wondered. How many times must I turn my weapons on unwitting pawns rather than the dark powers that spurred them to action? These people are fools and little more, tricked so easily into betraying their oaths. Are these people worth fighting for if they cannot even guard their own souls? Can anyone be so deceived? Could I? With a shake of his head he banished the disturbing thought and turned his attention to the casualty list in his hand. Total casualties: Forty-seven. Thirty-four of those were dead, almost half his company. To most commanders the destruction of over thirteen thousand heretics and demons with only a force as small as his would have done a jig at such a victory but to Erstol the battle might as well have been a defeat. A Space Marine was worth a hundred men easily, more if one factored in the decades, even centuries, of battle experience and training that each had accrued. With almost half his Company out of action it would take time before the 3rd would return to full strength. New Initiates from Scelus would be elevated to the ranks of the Sons, each donning the armor and receiving the weapons of the fallen. This was the tradition of the sons and of the Space Marines as a whole, to both remember the dead by bearing their effects and honor them by continuing their legacy of war and victory. Earlier Erstol had stood present as the Apothecaries had done their sad work, harvesting the progenoid genes from the fallen or mortally wounded. Each of the thirty-four vials sitting within the chest next to Erstol contained those genes, the legacy of the Chapter. On return to Scelus they would be carefully housed within the Apothecarium and, in time, implanted into an Initiate to begin his transformation from mere man into one of the Emperor's Angels of Death.

A noise to Erstol's right caused him to turn his head, shouting and cursing it sounded like. With a weary sigh he placed the casualty report on top of the chest and moved towards the rising din. IswearbyTerrathatifit'sanotherjumped-up,slack-jawed,idioticpoliticianclaimingthattheGovernorwrotehiminashissuccessoronthebackofadinnernapkinIwill... The rest of Erstol's thought was interrupted by the sight of a stern looking woman with short cut black hair in cream colored power-armor in the act of throwing the chair he assumed she'd been sitting on in his direction. Without a thought Erstols body reacted to the projectile and his fist back handed the chair right back towards her were it fell at her feet. This unexpected return cut the tirade the woman had been unleashing on one of his men short. "YOU!" She shouted pointing a finger at him "Find me your Captain! He will surely enjoy hearing that his men are obstructing the Emperor's agents! Tell him that CANONESS Uulia of the Tears of the Emperor demands access to the prisoners taken during the battle by the Sons of Malice!" With an inward sigh, he knew this was not going to end pleasantly, Erstol composed his face into a half smile "Sister, you have told him that yourself. I am Erstol, Captain of the third company of the Sons of Malice." He hadn't expected her to change her tone or volume and he wasn't disappointed. With angry steps she closed the distance between them until she stood just within arm's reach. "Captain, I demand that you turn over every prisoner that your men took during the assault. They are base heretics and must be cleansed with fire and bolter as the Ecclesiarchy proscribes! I will not rest until they are sent to meet the Emperor's judgment."

"Peace sister, they shall."

"Then you will hand them over?"

"...No. The Sons of Malice will deal with them as according to our own...tradition"

This set her back on her heels a little, her eyes, a flat grey not unlike the metal of the inferno pistol she carried, scanned Erstol's face intently.

"I am not familiar with your traditions captain, in fact I know little of your Chapter. Will this scum be freed or pardoned?"

"No, of that you have my word."

"What then will you do to them?"

"Apologies Sister but I truly cannot say, it is for the Chapter alone to know"

Her eyes narrowed at that, he could see her suspicion and wariness as clear as day.

"For the Chapter alone...you would have us allow you to take over two hundred prisoners off world? Prisoners that, I must remind you, still reek of the warp?"

"It is not for you to allow or disallow Sister, this is the Chapter's prerogative, the handling of prisoners"

"Inquisitor Pietas might disagree"

Erstol's smile disappeared

"What do you mean?"

"She is the one who sent me here, she is as eager as I to ensure that no hint of the corruption found here escapes. She will not allow this...Captain"

Erstol felt his temper rising, his men had won the day at the cost of blood and here was this woman treating him like a mindless servitor. He took a breath to calm himself before responding.

"I think that you will find that she has no more authority over us in this regard than you do and further that to insult the Sons of Malice so, after the victory we have just provided her, is both dishonorable and unwise. Tell her to take this up with Chapter Master Ba'Kel Draak if she wants but right here and right now I am the authority for my Chapter and my orders from Draak himself are clear, all prisoners we take return with us to Scelus. Unless you intend to try to stop me...Canoness."

For the first time in the exchange Uulia smiled, an action that was clearly rare to see, and Erstol noticed her teeth. They were metal. Whether by necessity or design she had had all her teeth replaced with steel imitations so that even unarmed she would never be defenseless.

"Let us hope that I never have to Captain...for your sake"

With that she turned on her heel and marched calmly away.

The ships of the Imperium in the 41st millennium where a heterogeneous lot, some ancient in design with a lineage of service stretching back ten thousand years and others brand new and as yet untested in the furnace of combat. The LexTalionis was a mystery though. No one truly knew when it had been built or even where and even the Tech-Priests couldn't pry the secret from the massive cogitator banks that held the Battle-Barge's collected history. It seemed that the LexTalionis had simply begun its service at the founding of the chapter but subtle architecture, certain hidden pieces of arceotech, and the ship's own design pointed to its being built much earlier. For what it was worth it also fought like a grand cruiser from back during the crusade. It was a common aphorism that the older the ship the better its performance as technology was lost faster than it could be recreated. Whatever the case the LexTalionis was truly a spectacular vessel, one that even old chapters such as the Ultramarines might envy.

Erstol had always felt at home within the ship, enjoying the pulsing of the engines and the crackle of the Geller fields. He had a particular love of looking out into space, seeing the stars and planets or the ever shifting tides of the warp from the vantage point of his quarter's oval window. A privilege of rank, his room was large and sectioned in the dorsal area of the ship. Erstol kept the room comfortable but not ostentatious and it was his habit to allow anyone to enter and speak with him except during certain hours when he could be found sparring with his company or else otherwise engaged in his duties. So it was no real surprise to him when a knock sounded at his door about an hour after the LexTalionis had made its warp transition. "Enter" Erstol acknowledged from his position near the window. The door opened and a tall, lean figure dressed in black and white quartered robes walked slowly in. "You should have been a Naval officer" Kathal chuckled "I swear that every time I come to this room you are standing right there in that exact spot looking out" Erstol shared the laugh, happy that Kathal had found time to visit. Normally during warp runs the captains and non-coms of the Sons of Malice spent a fair amount of time together, recounting stories, fighting, planning future battles all in the same way that they had done as children in their various tribes on Scelus, some habits just couldn't be broken. Unfortunately this time such pleasant diversion was curtailed by the presences of an Inquisitor on board.

"Did she finally free you for a while or did you have to fight your way out?" Erstol asked as he poured two glasses of snake venom liquor, a Scelusian drink of great potency, for the first captain and himself. "I almost had to, if it isn't one thing it's another with her and YOU are a topic of great discussion with her believe me."

"Oh? What did I ever do to displease the Emperor so?"

"Her pet Canoness was quite descriptive of your threats and arrogant manner."

"I'm interested to hear how she managed that, I was a model of politeness."

"...Until you told her to take the whole thing to Draak. She took you at your word on that my friend. I have tried everything I can think of to get her to "bless" another world or ship with her presence but she's warp bound to have Ba'Kel Draak himself answer for your conduct."

"I had no choice Kathal, you know that."

Leaning against the railing Kathal took a sip of the snake liquor and closed his eyes.

"Of course not Erstol, I'd have done the same but she will be a problem nonetheless."

"Maybe but we have survived worse"

Kathal chuckled again "I'd rather fight ten of Khorne's own Bloodthirsters than deal with her."

Silence fell between the two as they watched ever shifting cascade of the warp through the glass.

"That Demon's last words bother me Kathal." Erstol broke the silence

"Why Brother?"

"He said something about a web being drawn tight around us, that it was already too late."

"As you said then, all demons lie."

"Maybe but I sense something...more might be at play."

"Oh? Such as?" Kathal turned to look at Erstol and his dark eyebrow was raised slightly, not knowing how seriously to take his friend's line of conversation.

"I don't know, I just have a feeling. I grow tired of killing fools who unleash evil unknowing. I had hope that my company would be rotated to Cadia or some other world for a time, at least there my enemy is one that I can fight with zeal."

"I know what you mean, these cults...they grow worse every time. I long to cut down the traitor marines on a blasted world, to show them vengeance for their transgressions, not obliterate weak-minded fools who trade their own souls for the merest illusion of power."

Erstol caught the glint of anger in Kathal's midnight black eyes and his teeth showed as he continued "We have spent the last two decades putting out fires behind the lines rather than stopping the inferno at our gate and I tire of it Brother."

"Maybe soon we will get our chance"

"I hope so. I have spent too much time fighting the Imperium's bureaucrats and duped citizens and too little time defending it from the REAL enemy. Speaking of...I think I'd better go fight that Lorencian Serpent of an Inquisitor for a little while otherwise she'll feel neglected."

Draining his glass Kathal slapped Erstol on the shoulder and walked out, leaving Erstol alone with his thoughts.

In the room provided her Pietas slowly came out of her trance, her mind returning to her body after listening in on the two Captain's conversation. There was definitely something going on that involved those prisoners she decided, why else all the secrecy? Letting her come all the way to speak to the chapter master himself over such a trivial matter meant only one thing, the matter wasn't trivial at all. She would get to the bottom of this, her duty demanded no less. Now to alert her allies to the course they would take. "Uulia, Savina Sun, please enter." She voxed. The doors to the outer room opened and her three allies entered. Uulia stood as straight as a power sword as always, even out of her armor she radiated ridged resolve. The priest(es) Savina was, as always, in black robes that had been woven from the hair of penitents and carrying a staff with the twin eagles of the Emperor on it and a massive book of prayers. Her eyes were wild and her movements frantic. The last of the trio was the least noticeable and also the most deadly person in the room, perhaps even the entire ship. Lo Sha Sun looked like just a young girl she was so short and slender. Her head was bowed as always in the presence of the Inquisitor who had saved her from a mob, hiding the cuts on her face. Those weren't the only marks of violence on her but the rest were hidden by a form fitting suit beneath a simple robe of grey cloth. To most people she was a barely noticeable ghost but even Uulia wouldn't have challenged the "girl". A deathcult assassin was dangerous regardless of the form it appeared in.

"What is your will Lady Pietas?" Uulia, as always, was the first to speak.

"They are certainly up to something Uulia and I would know what it is."

"Regarding the prisoners? I am sure they will dispose of them, whatever that knave Erstol is I feel he has no love for the Heretic or the traitor."

"Perhaps but heresy takes many forms, some more obvious than others."

"You suspect the Sons?"

"And you do not? Shrouded in stealth and mystery, arrogant and independent to a fault...and they have secrets Uulia, they are hiding things and that is something only the guilty do."

"For the servants of the ruinous powers hide their guilt behind glory and honor even as they spit in the face of the God-Emperor!" Savina began what promised to be a long sermon but Pietas cut her short. "Indeed, and I would see to it that if they hide behind such valor as they claim a truth that is not His truth that they be struck down."

Uulia looked stunned

"Strike them down...on their homeworld Lady?"

"Of course Canoness, you will outnumber them by at least four to one if it comes to that."

"Lady...these are not rabble, we might need more sisters, I could send for reinforc..."

"Absolutely not Canoness. Would you sit idle if there is corruption present? Besides your sisters there are penitents seeking absolution in the care of Savina correct?"

Savina's face took on a fanatical glow of pleasure "Indeed, many souls seek the forgiveness that only service to the Master of Mankind can provide"

Uulia still looked uncertain "What of Ba'Kel Draak? He is wise and strong and his Chief Librarian Oedvi is a powerful psyker."

For the first time Lo Sha Sun spoke, her eyes fixed on the floor and her head never rising. "I will kill them, I always love killing space marines and psykers...it take so long for them to die that they make great sport" She giggled, a sound that was jarringly lighthearted "besides their blood always tastes so much better than normal peoples blood."

The silence that followed could have been minutes or seconds but even Savina didn't know how to respond to this nightmarish facsimile of a child. Finally, clearing her dry throat, Pietas spoke "Well then we shall wait and see, and if we have to we will execute our duty as the Emperor demands."

3

Scelus

Tradition

Master of the Sons

A week of warp travel passed with little activity. Kathal was kept interminably busy with the Inquisitor and only visited sporadically. Erstol, for his part, split his time between meditation and honing his skills in the practice cages. His company, despite the heavy losses was in good spirits, the marines that had been wounded had for the most part been returned to duty and the glow of victory surrounded the 3rd company. Kathal had been heard to remark that while his company had the advantages of Terminator Armor in the battle the 3rd had fought as good a fight as even his company could have offered. He had even accorded the 3rd the laurels of victory, saying "The 1st but struck the hammer blow, without the anvil of the 3rd we would have hit naught but air." The companies had worked together many times in the past and such displays of friendship between the two were common. Even so Erstol was grateful to his superior for the compliment. After a week of travel through the void at last Erstol heard to words from the bridge he had longed to hear "Preparing to exit the Warp, all hands brace for materialization." And within a few minutes the ship shuddered, slowed and finally reentered realspace.

Erstol's gaze scrutinized Scelus from the viewport in the bridge. Home,nothinglikeit he thought as his eyes registered the cloudy upper atmosphere. Scelus was a world that most would have found hard to survive, let alone enjoy, with its towering mountains that tapered to tips that broke the through the clouds like the spines of some massive creature. It rained or snowed most of the time on the surface, falling upon the massive forests that covered the world in a perpetual twilight. Trees that grew to heights of over five hundred standard Imperial meters were the norm, not the exception, and their canopies were made of leaves the size of a man. Under such gloom the humans of Scelus lived as tribes, competing for the most defensible positions and resources and also for the best hunting ground. These were not peaceful natives of the land but the descendants of humans forcibly settled here thousands of years ago. War was not only common but incessant between tribes and resources of any kind were incredibly scarce. From the very youngest of ages children were trained to fight and kill for their tribe, taught the arts of the hunter and the warrior and by the age of ten most of the children had killed as many enemies as they had years. Food was the great currency of Scelus, where a good hunter was the most powerful leader within a tribe. Tribes lived or died on the prowess of those tasked with providing for the rest. Scelus was a place where only the strongest and craftiest managed to survive, most couldn't measure up.

It was for precisely those reasons that the Imperium had decided to recruit soldiers from Scelus, hard worlds meant great soldiers of course, but the High Lords of Terra wanted more from this world than a few regiments of the Imperial Guard, a lot more. Scelus had the misfortune to be close to the Eye of Terror, that horrific break in reality where the hellish realm of the warp bled over into the universe. From that break came chaos raiders of every sort, from turncoat guard units to demons, but worst of all, the traitor legions themselves. Most in the Imperium would have laughed at the idea that one of the Emperor's Chosen, the mighty Astartes, could turn traitor but such a thing had happened and, sadly continued to happen. From within the Eye of Terror the very marines of the first heresy (an event largely shrouded in myth) still lived and prospered, nursing their hatred of the Emperor and his realm. From time to time they would gather in force as they had done over ten thousand years before and strike out from the Eye to ravage the worlds of the faithful.

It was for this reason that the Sons of Malice and nineteen other chapters, known collectively as the Astartes Praeses, had been formed by the order of the High Lords themselves, to guard against such strikes by the Great Enemy. Scelus was strategically important as a fortress world and so it had been selected as the home world for a new chapter of space marines, the Sons of Malice. The marines would be drawn from the populace of this wild world, shaped by the genes of an unknown primarch into superhuman warriors of the Imperium. In one of the largest mountains a massive fortress-monastery was carved into the rock and landing pads built for the use of the chapter's navel compliment. That had been almost a thousand years ago and to the tribesman these marines were as ascended gods, each a perfect warrior. The chapter recruited from the tribes yearly, seeking the best male children to bear the heavy duty of a Son of Malice.

Erstol had been such a youth over a hundred years ago. A strong and agile boy of ten he had been neither the biggest nor the fiercest of those tested from his tribe. While the other boys had fought through the tests with sheer stubbornness Erstol had always found a way to conserve his strength until it was absolutely necessary and only then make his move. His patience and ingenuity caught the attention of the tester Oedvi, then but a humble Librarian, who had picked Erstol and six others out of more than two hundred potential children. At that young age he had left his parents and entered his family for the first time. The man Erstol had become since then bore little resemblance to the half-starved youth that had been tested so long ago. His body now stood at about two meters and a half, his skin was scarred over a hundred times with the reminders of battle, even his hair had changed from blonde to a light brown. Such changes where the result of the Primarch's genes, over time all space marines came to resemble their founding Primarch to some degree and the Sons had tendency towards being dark of eye and hair.

As the LexTalionus edged closer to his homeworld Erstol heard footsteps behind him, turning he was surprised to see Uulia walking towards him. "Captain." She greeted him "Canoness." He cautiously replied. She walked to stand with him before the viewport and he noticed the strain in her movement, she was unsettled. That puzzled him, she hadn't seemed the type to succumb to nerves no matter the reason. "Sister, are you well?" "I am Captain, though I have never been found of space travel…so….exposed." Erstol nodded at that, Uulia wouldn't be the first to feel the weight of Warp and empty space pressing in on her. She had been conspicuously absent throughout the voyage, here was the reason. "We will land soon Sister, I promise that though our world is cold the Sons treat all guests with honor." Her lips twitched, for a moment he thought she might smile but no such luck. "I will be remaining in space, the Inquisitor wishes me to be ready to move at a moment's notice in case…we are needed elsewhere." Erstol shrugged, he hadn't expected anything different, the Inquisitor was a busy woman and her agents would be constantly on the move. Suddenly she startled him with a question "Why all the secrecy Captain? Why not just hand over the prisoners?" Erstol sighed, he had been afraid of this "Sister...you must understand, this is simply our way. It has been for a thousand years and more." She scowled at him "You didn't answer my question, WHY don't you just give them up?" "Because they will die in a time and a place we choose in accordance with our tradition." "What tradition?" Erstol's smile was forced and had all the warmth of a skull's death grimace "They will come to know the hunger of Scelus" and without waiting for her reply he turned and moved off to join his company in the hangers for transport down to the planet.

The Fortress-Monastery of the Sons of Malice was a gigantic complex, a catacomb of tunnels and vaults on the inside and formidable defenses on the outside. It was carved into one of the largest mountains on Scelus, a mighty peak broking through the clouds that were constant on the planet. At the base of the mountain the forests had been cleared a little to allow for clear fields of fire. Within the Fortress-Monastery there were great caverns hollowed out and used for storage, massive tunnels and rooms to be used for garrison by the whole chapter in the event of assault. Yet for all the beauty of architecture and attempts to create a Fortress-Monastery to match such as the hallowed halls of the Blood Angels on Baal it was not within the mountain that the Marines of the Chapter spent most of their time, it was in the smaller villages within the dark forests. The Sons of Malice still were members of their tribes and to the tribesmen having such a god of battle amongst them was a stabilizing force and an occasion that would be celebrated with hunts and celebration. Only Sons of Malice, however, where ever allowed to leave the Fortress-Monastery, for their guests own protection it was said. The rites and traditions of the Sons and the tribes had grown together and no outsider had ever been given the right to walk into the forest and if they chose to disobey...none returned.

The audience with Ba'Kel Draak took place in the mountain fortress and from the beginning it went from bad to worse when he refused to censure Erstol or Kathal in the least and adamantly told Inquisitor Pietas in no uncertain terms that he would neither allow her access to the prisoners nor tell her their intended fate. "This is not under your purview Inquisitor, these are our ways and have been since the founding of our chapter. Content yourself that the Emperor's wrath will be meted out on these traitors." Pietas was absolutely livid with fury but knew better than to challenge Draak in his own throne room. "As you like it Chapter Master, but be aware that your actions shall not pass without notice. MY order has no limits to our authority except that which the Emperor himself decreed. That I do not demand my rights here is only out of deference for your Chapter's years of service to the Golden Throne." Ba'Kel Draak's smile with glacial "I thank you for your recognition Inquisitor. Take this case to your masters if it troubles you so but they shall find my answer the same. A thousand other Chapters of Astartes have their own rites and traditions, most of them secretive and unseen outside of their own brotherhood, we are no different than such loyal and exemplary Chapters as the Dark Angels and the Black Templars in this respect. We have earned that right and we maintain it." Turning to go Pietas allowed herself the final word "For now Chapter Master...For now."

As he watched her exit Ba'Kel Draak felt his anger flowing out of him, replaced by resignation. This fight would have consequence he knew, the Inquisition was the most powerful force in the Imperium barring only the Emperor and the High Lords of Terra themselves. This would not be the first time that his Chapter had flouted the rules of some fool of a commanding officer and he knew it would not be the last. Still, this Inquisitor was relentless and her Ordo Hereticus was the most dogmatic of all the branches of the Inquisition. Slowly he made his way towards the Librarium and his friend the Chief Librarian Oedvi. As he'd expected Oedvi was in the process of instructing new initiates. Slowly he approached the group so as not to disturb the lesson. "…So my brothers, who here thinks he has learned his duty? Who here wishes to tell me where the strength of our chapter comes from?" Ba'kel smiled, he had heard enough of Oedvi's many lessons to know where this was going already. A young initiate, no more than twelve cycles, slowly raised his hand. "Master, doesn't our strength come from the Emperor" Oedvi chuckled "How direct is youth! Perhaps one could say that as our grandsire he is indeed our strength but even He is but a part of what our strength comes from…anyone else?" The youths sat puzzled, none of them having any idea of what this grizzled ancient's meaning was. "Our strength is our past Chief Librarian." Oedvi smiled "Quite right Chapter Master, perhaps you would like to explain to these young minds why that is the case?" Ba'Kel Draak walked from his place at the back into the light, drawing startled gasps from the initiates. "Tradition is what gives us strength in all things, the memory of how things were and how they should be sustains us. The reverence for friends and the hatred for enemies show us our place in the universe. Lastly the past keeps us strong, from our chapter rites that are based on our tribes rituals to our veneration of the Unknown Primarch himself, we are made stronger by adhering to the traditions of those who walked before us and honoring their memories." As he spoke Ba'Kel Draak felt his good humor return, Inquisitor or no his chapter was an honorable one and his men loyal servants of the Golden Throne. No matter the irritations and insults that they suffered from others that would never change.

"As ever you inspire the ranks" Oedvi's comment would have sounded sycophantic but Draak knew his friend well enough to detect the humor.

"One does what one can. I remember old Master Phoietan drilling that lesson into us for what felt like a hundred cycles."

Oedvi laughed "Tradition is Tradition and the Past is the key to Tradition…great warrior, no way with words though. You seemed troubled when you entered though, the meeting with the Inquisitor?"

"Truth Brother, she is more noxious than a Plaguelord, every demand couched in arrogance, every word a knife. She tried to insist that she AND her lackeys witness the death of the prisoners…."

"That, we cannot allow." All hint of a smile had vanished from Oedvi "The victory celebration is our most sacred and secret ritual. No outsider would understand."

"Of course not, have no fear my friend. She has returned to space.'

"She is aboard the LexTalionis?"

"No, she has pulled all her retinue off our ship and packed them into the troopships that carried the Imperial Guard to Cilix 225."

"That is fortunate. Perhaps she will leave soon and never return."

"And if she does return she will find us considerably less cooperative, if we even let her land."

Clapping Draak on the shoulder Oedvi turned to go "Remember today's lesson my friend, she is but one fool but we are the Sons of Malice and you are our Master, we will never forget our ways and never give up our past regardless of what others desire."

With a shake of the head Ba'Kel Draak answered his friend "I am not the Master and we all know it, He is and always has been even if we see him not."

"Are you echoing the boy now Brother? Of course we all serve the Emperor…"

"But we serve another too; as our tribes have done for centuries….As always we serve Malice first."

Space Marines, the Emperor's Chosen, the Angels of Death, each imbued with the spark of a demigod. These beings were not born as such but created. At a young age boys throughout all the recruiting worlds of the Space Marines were marshaled together and put through trials that grown soldiers of the Imperial Guard would have had a hard time attempting, let alone surviving. The best of these survivors would be inducted into the ranks of the Chapter of Space Marines that laid claim to the world. These boys were simple mortals when chosen but soon after their acceptance they would start a journey that would transform them from man into something far more. Organs grown from the Gene-seed harvested from past Space Marines would be implanted, each improving the Initiate in some way. The young boy would gain a secondary heart, a third lung, an improved kidney, increased muscle and bone growth, acid spit, the ability to rest one half of the brain at a time, amazingly fast clotting blood and many other things besides. Yet for all that these miraculous organs were monitored carefully and the gene-seed kept as pure as possible these new marines were still human, their minds still open to corruption. Most traitors fall due to external factors be it bloodlust or temptation. These traitors are unfortunately common but usually renounce their oaths in ones and twos. However when a large group turns their back on the Emperor's light in almost every case the roots of their sedition can be found within the culture of the chapter and its recruiting ground. The worst example of this is obviously the traitor legions themselves who were led down the dark path by the cultures and traditions of the worlds of their origin. As Guilliman himself remarked "Plant a tree in poison and it will bear only deadly fruits…"

~InquisitorLaberio-"Malficum Astartes" M35.038

4

The Hunger of Scelus

The Nightmare Child

Malice

The night on Scelus was only slightly gloomier than the day and only occurred every eleventh standard day. Such times of true darkness were deemed auspicious and the tribes would raid and hunt with abandon. These periods of night were also the time of the rituals of the Sons of Malice and of all those rituals the rite of victory was the most important. Only a skeleton guard remained within the mountain while the remaining marines walked out into the forests unarmed and without power armor. These were sons of Scelus as well as Sons of Malice and they feared nothing within the forests of their birth. With over three hundred space marines marching to the celebration they were secure without such protection. In two rows they walked and between them filed the pitiful survivors of the rebellion at Cilix 225. Each had been inspected by the Librarium and had been pronounced clean of warp corruption. Some cried, knowing that in some form or another they would be put to death, others tried to fight, but most just walked on in dull eyed silence. They knew what betrayal to the Emperor meant and expected no mercy at the hands of his Angels of Death. As the Chapter walked towards its hidden destination they were watched by thousands of tribesmen, some the fathers or brothers of this assembled host. Yet except for the occasional scream or sob form a prisoner the march was a silent one and the tribes respected the silence.

Erstol marched in the front on the left with Kathal on the right. After the confrontation with Pietas Ba'Kel Draak had decided that Erstol wouldn't be the one credited with the victory officially, hopefully not being praised for it would smooth over the conflict with the Inquisitor. For his part Erstol was unperturbed by this, his record was already impressive and Kathal's first company had helped secure the victory. His only wish was that Ba'Kel Draak himself could have been present at this event but he had remained with the guard at the fortress to allay any suspicions should the Inquisitor try to make an unexpected visitation. Slowly the procession marched deeper and deeper into the forest and soon the ground began to slope downward. Suddenly the front of the group broke through the dense foliage and Erstol's eyes adjusted instantly to a slight increase in light. The prisoners at the front tried to stop, stunned and terrified by the sight before them but with Astartes on either side of them they were part pushed or part carried forward. All the fears that their minds had created hadn't prepared them for this and yet such fear kept them from running, even the ones who had fought before were silent as the method of their death finally became clear. "Secure them brothers." Kathal's voice cut through the night "then we shall begin"...

High above Scelus in her quarters aboard one of the transport vessels of the Imperial Guard Pietas sat on the floor with her eyes closed, her every thought bent towards finding the mind of First Captain Kathal. The days with him during the trip to the warp had been a carefully planned ruse, allowing her the time to get a very good sense of his personal aura. She was certain that if he left the area of the fortress-monastery she would get a fix on him and end this mystery forever. There! Her mind's eye watched as he marched out into the forests with the prisoners and a massive number of Astartes. For a time she watched them march, her irritation mounting with the banality she was witnessing, until at last they entered an area that was grey and dark to her. She couldn't see anything for sure and she had no idea what could be interfering with her. Marshalling her will she forced her mind like a beam from a lance battery to pierce the veil and what she saw stunned her, sickened her. Her concentration lapsed for just a second but that was enough for darkness to flood back in and hide the scene. It didn't matter anymore, she had her proof.

"Uulia, Savina, Sun please report in immediately." Pietas voxed shakily. After a few moments her servants made their appearance. "Do you have new information on the Sons milady?" Uulia, as usual, was the first to break the silence. "Prep your sisters for IMMEDIATE assault Canoness, Savina prepare the Fallen for the attack as well."

"So there is proof milady? The Sons are corrupt?" Uulia's face showed her uncertainty

"Absolutely Canoness, they are rife with pagan rituals and they attempt to ward their presence with demonic sorcery."

"Should we not inform the Inquisition?"

"I fully intend to the moment this council ends but right here and right now we must launch a strike against the Sons of Malice while they are vulnerable."

"We cannot hope to defeat them in their fortress milady, they are simply too well fortified and the minute we assault we will be attacked from orbit by their Battle Barge."

Pietas smile was glacial "Of course not Canoness, that would be suicide...unless the majority of the garrison was out in the forest with no weapons, the transport cruisers boarded the LexTalionis and tied it up, and the defenses of the Fortress-Monastery were temporarily disabled."

"How will the defenses be disabled milady?"

Pietas turned to look at the most inconspicuous looking member of the trio. "Sun will take care of that for you. Then Savina's charges will take the fortress while you surround and destroy the Sons out in the forest."

Uulia was nodding and Savina was murmuring a catechism of devotion and wrath but Pietas had one final instruction to give.

"Lo Sha Sun by the authority of the immortal Emperor of Mankind and his holy Inquisition I authorize you to kill all enemies of his truth in the prosecution of your duties in disabling the defenses. Further, I charge you with a duel task. You are to assassinate the Chapter Master of the Sons of Malice, Ba'Kel Draak and Chief Librarian Oedvi for Heresy and corruption by the Ruinous Powers. The Emperor is with us all."

Unseen by the rest a slow smile crept over the Death-Cult Assassin's face, becoming unnaturally long. Deliberate cuts in her face made to looks like scars running from the corners of her lips almost to her ears split open to reveal a preternatural number of needle-like teeth. It had been too long since her last hunt, this was going to be fun.

The night air surrounded Ba'Kel Draak as he stood looking out from a balcony. His eyes were on the forest, the forest that had been his home, and he felt a pang that he was not with his Brothers out there but with that Inquisitor in orbit he couldn't rule out the possibility that she might try to transport down and cause even more difficulties. Soon she would be gone though and his Chapter would be out of scrutiny. "Chapter master" his vox bead interrupted his thoughts "we are reading several objects being launched form the transports in orbit." Draak frowned "How many objects and what is there projected destination?" "They appear to be at least forty-three in number and they are on two different trajecDraakies. It appears that they are landing vessels of the type commonly used by the Sisters of Battle." Draak felt a chill run through him. She couldn't be doing what it seemed she was doing. "What are the exact projected landing points for the ships?" He waited what seemed an age, hoping that his fears would be put to rest "Half seem to be headed here Chapter Master but the rest..." Draak felt his blood running cold and even before the report came he knew were the rest of the transports were going "They appear to be heading straight for where the rest of the Chapter is gathered."

As the ramifications of that simple statement sunk in Draak's enhanced eyes caught the first hints of reentry trails in the sky above him. "This is Chapter Master Ba'Kel Draak" His vox carrying into every room and every vox station in the Fortress-Monastery "Prepare for attack immediately, we are betrayed by the Inquisitor and her lackeys but they shall find us no easy prey! Send a message to our brothers in the forest to return immediately lest they be struck down by this cowardly ambush. We will not be so easily beaten!" As he heard the buzz of orders in his vox he turned and walked quickly back into his quarters to arm himself. As he began the process of dawning his power armor he stopped midway as more and more reports of malfunction within the primary through tertiary defense grid began to be discovered. "Sabotage, someone must have infiltrated the Fortress." He thought and suddenly his ears caught the distinctive sound of bolter rounds being fired. Draak rushed to the balcony and looked out on the approaches to the main gate. At the gate, still open due to sabotage, stood several squads of marines firing into the darkness at shadowy forms charging forth from the forest's edge. He couldn't quite make out what they were but their shapes were both human and yet not, as if their arms had belonged to a being twice their size.

"Merciful Emperor, what has she unleashed on us?" Draak spoke quietly "Those are Savina's toys, aren't they lovely?" A voice came from the darkness of his room "Who is there? Show yourself!" Draak bellowed, acutely aware that in his haste his weapons remained in their place, as did the majority of his power armor, in his room within an alcove cut for that purpose. Draak started to inch back into his room, straining his lowlight vision trying to see who had dared challenge him in his own sanctuary. Slowly, almost playfully one of the many shadows elongated, stretching out to take the form of a leg, then a Draakso, and finally the rest of a body clothed in the deepest of blacks and masked in the same manner. With deliberation the figure removed that mask and hair almost as dark as the slick synthskin she was wearing fell to frame the face of a child. Where Draak stood almost two and three tenths standard meters tall she could not have been more than a meter and a half. Where his face was old even for an Astartes hers seemed young, though marred by scars, and his grey eyes looked into twin pools of obsidian.

"Who are you …how did you get in here?" He edged closer to his weapons. "I am Lo Sha Sun, my life is devoted to the God Emperor and paying the blood debt we all owe him. I serve my Lady Pietas." The words were spoken without any emotion, as if reading off a script. "You are deemed impure by her authority. Your organized rituals are perversions and bear the mark of Chaos, you have defied direct orders, and for these crimes you will be totally destroyed and this world burned to ash." Draak's hand stretched out towards his power sword, he was so close. Just a little farther… "We have done nothing that other chapters have not themselves done. Tell Pietas to call off the attack and she may yet leave our homeworld alive." The girl thing grinned, her smile widening until it stretched horribly from ear to ear, rows of tiny razor sharp teeth gleaming in the darkness. "I am not here as a messenger or a diplomat, I am here for your blood Chapter Master. I like a challenge though, pick up your weapon and let's begin."

With a quick movement his power sword was in his grasp, its field of energy glowing angrily and dispelling some of the shadows. "If you want my blood you will have to earn it." Draak roared defiantly and slashed at the assassin. The terrible grin never left her face and her body barely moved but with a speed unlike anything anyone would have expected from such a "child" she bent just far enough away from the slash for it to miss. Shocked, Draak lunged forward, stabbing straight at her only to watch her twist away from the attack with ease. He cut towards her only to watch her bend underneath the blade. He swept his leg low while at the same time swinging high, trying to catch her in between. Sun jumped just high enough to avoid his kick but not high enough to meet his blade and at the apex of her jump she kicked out, hitting his side and using the momentum to propel her away. They both recovered almost instantly, each ready to continue each gauging the movements of the other. "This is no young girl..." Draak thought as he instantly reviewed his initial attacks. She had not even met his attacks and still had not even been scratched. He looked at her and tried to read exertion, fear, any emotion that he could use but her face was set in that rictus grin and gave away nothing. "You are good Chapter Master" she hissed through her teeth. "You are good indeed. I've been wanting to play with someone like you for a long time…" With a tightening in his throat Draak realized that this fight was just about to begin for real. Sun crouched low and Draak caught the gleam of metal in her hands. Sun giggled "Try not to die too fast…"

Canoness Uulia led her sisters through the forest as fast as stealth would allow. It was imperative that they catch the Sons in the hollow or else the whole attack would be in jeopardy. From the ranks she heard the whispers of her sister praying for victory in battle and for the Emperor to strike down the traitors. The Canoness had led many assaults and had never yet been afraid to face an enemy but this fight was different. Prayers or no these were former loyal servants of the Golden Throne and Astartes at that. She had seen how well they had fought and had been stunned by their success. Deep in her heart she was unsure if the Inquisitor was making the right decision. Still, it was not her place to question, it was her place to act. As she approached her position she coordinated with the Elite Celestian forces that had been dropped on the other side of the valley where the Sons were located. Uulia was leaving nothing to chance, the Sons were to be surrounded and cut off before a single shot was fired. As Uulia picked her way forward her vox bead began to beep heralding a message. "Lorae to Uulia, we are almost in position for assault. Holding position and awaiting your command," Uulia looked at her auspix, her own force was just behind the ridge line that ran around the depression where the Sons were located.

"Uulia to Pietas, we are in position, what are your orders my Lady?"

"I am moving up to your position Canoness, ready your force for assault."

Uulia blinked "Assault my Lady? We have a perfect ambush position here, we could shoot them down easily with little risk of them escaping."

"They are unarmed and we outnumber them, there is no risk. As we speak their mountain fortress is compromised and their Battle-Barge is under attack. We are the Emperor's hand and we shall strike them down face to face that they might know his wrath."

Uulia sighed, this was a bad plan and she knew it but this was an Inquisitor, a member of an order founded by the word of the God-Emperor. The simple stylized "I" of the Inquisition had more power and caused more fear than a legion of Titans or a Chapter of Space marines in full wargear. Uulia was under that authority and knew that if Pietas ordered her to march into the Eye of Terror itself she would have no choice but to obey.

"Your will my Lady" she whispered back.

"Good. ETA in five minutes. Then we strike."

"We stand ready."

With another sigh Uulia began informing the various squads of their orders. This was going to be a hard night.

Commander Physo sat looking out at his homeworld from the command throne of the LexTalionis. Though his scarred face didn't show it he was worried. Minutes ago he had watched huge numbers of landing craft heading for the surface from the troopships and had immediately sent out requests for orders from Ba'Kel Draak, for the intentions of the ships, and even for the Inquisitor to explain what exactly was going on. He had received no response from anyone. Now the troopships were powering engines and he was still without orders. Physo was a good commander, he had a pretty good idea of what was going on, and had it been any other force that was making such aggressive motions he would have immediately destroyed the landers and then turned his wrath on the troopships. The only thing holding him back was the knowledge that if he fired on an Inquisitor without direct orders then he would doom his entire Chapter.

"Troopship Alpha has turned to broadside position, Troopship Beta is following suit" droned the sensor-servitor. Physo scowled, the decision was rapidly being taken out of his hands. Suddenly a pulse of light lit the void between the ships, streaking towards the Battle-Barge from the bow of troopship Gamma. Physo braced himself for impact but none came, poor gunner-team discipline on their part. "Get me a vox line to those ships immediately, I don't care if they answer but by the Golden Throne they WILL hear me." Physo looked out at the slowly moving ships, his anger growing by the second. "Vox line open" the servitor responded dully. "Attention troopships, by firing you have proven yourselves to be enemies of the Sons of Malice. Power down all weapons, engines, and shields immediately or I swear by the Unknown Primarch's Blood I will incinerate the lot of you. You have thirty seconds to comply." The seconds seemed to take hours to him, 1...2...3...4... Each moment he hoped for a response but none came. Finally, at twenty-six seconds he got his answer, one sentence from the Alpha followed by a full broadside of all its weapons, "Death to all Chaos Traitors" and so, not even knowing why, Physo found himself condemned as a rebel and fighting for his life.

Sitting alone in the forest Chief Librarian Oedvi let his mind expand into the ethereal realm of the warp. In front of him was a massive slab of rock scored with hundreds of symbols. This was a stone that had been found deep within the forest by the tribes several thousand years ago and used to foretell the future. When the Sons of Malice had been founded on Scelus the stone had been taken by the new chapter for use by the Librarium and the stone had been placed outside of the Fortress-Monastery. Oedvi was the son of one of the seers in his former tribe and as a child had been fascinated with the stone, called in the native tongue Hak ra kek Malis. He had spent years learning the symbols and their many meanings until the years before he had been inducted into the Sons. It was on one of the rare nights on Scelus that Oedvi's life had taken an unexpected turn while he sat study this stone. As the light of the moon rose and touched the stone a symbol slowly began to appear in the center of it. As Oedvi had watched he had felt his mind opening, expanding. As the symbol grew brighter he felt fire in his blood and lightning in his fingertips until, at last, the symbol was fully formed. A skull, outlined on one side and illuminated on the other, the symbol of his chapter, stared at him from the rock and from that skull tiny flickering lights spread to the other symbols. Itching with the power in his mind Oedvi had still been able to read the message. He saw his future unfold, his acceptance into the Sons of Malice and that he would become a powerful psyker. He saw a future of war, hundreds of battles against many enemies and saw himself rise to stand at the right hand of the Chapter Master himself. As quickly as he had read the message it had vanished and left him feeling the full pain of his awakening as a psyker.

Here he sat now, two hundred and fifty standard years later seeking knowledge of the future yet again.. His mind focused and power harnessed, calling out into the void. Suddenly his heightened senses felt a surge of energy and his eyes snapped open. Slowly the same light he remembered from his many previous divinations appeared in the form of his chapter's symbol and even more slowly the light spread to the thousands of small runes and carvings. Oedvi's eyes narrowed as he read the signs, muttering the meaning under his breath. Suddenly his jaw fell open, he felt sweat pouring from his brow, and felt his muscles tense with shock. "No...it can't be..." The symbols were flaring faster and faster now, searing meaning into his mind without his conscious control. "Emperor protect...no this is wrong...this can't be right" Oedvi whispered, his voice hoarse from exertion. He read calamity in the signs, a great betrayal, and flight from his homeworld. There was a great crusade to return and a war with against traditional foes and former friends. As the signs flickered he saw an old power faltering and a new power rising. The lights began to form a greater pattern and as he watched Oedvi felt his blood run ice cold. "By the Primarch...I must prevent this..." With a huge effort he tore his eyes from the stone, turned, and ran as fast as he could toward the fortress.

From the darkness of the forest a tall figure stepped, cloaked and armored. An ancient helmet obscured his face. The figure watched the Chief Librarian run at full pelt toward the mountain fortress. Slowly he turned to regard the stone and the final symbol still burning with a terrible scarlet glow. Burning bright on the Hak ra kek Malis, the Anvil of Malice, was an image that struck terror into any sane servant of the Imperium. There were eight arrows pointing horizontal, vertical, and diagonal all piercing through a circle. The Eight Point Star, the Sign of the Dark Gods, or more commonly known as the sign of Chaos. In the center of the star of Chaos was the image of a skull, half outlined and half fully formed, the mirror of the Sons' chapter badge. The Librarian could run all he wanted; his fate and his chapter were already sealed by that symbol. The Sons of Malice were marked by Chaos.

5

Blood of the Enemy

Penance

For the Emperor

Pietas was as good as her word, five minutes after her transmission she was standing next to Uulia with almost a hundred battle sisters in tow. "Are you prepared Canoness?" Uulia bowed slightly "Yes my Lady, we are ready but..." Pietas shot an annoyed look at her commander "What now?" Uulia swallowed slowly, steeling herself to ask the question she had been holding back since she had been told of the assault "My sisters and I...with your permission...wish to know what the Sons have done to warrant all this. We will do our duty regardless but we would fight the harder if their crime was revealed to us." Uulia braced herself for the explosive anger of an Inquisitor questioned but none came. Instead Pietas slowly started nodding "I understand Uulia, having seen them fight you still think them noble and true servants of the Golden Throne. No words will move you to action as surely as seeing the truth for yourselves. Lead your sisters to the top of the hill and look down. When you do you will know what it is we fight. When you have your answer gather your sisters and do your duty." Moving slowly the battle sister crept to look over the hill, careful not to move to quickly lest haste and noise alert the Sons below. As Uulia moved to look down she heard the gasps and whispered prayers of the her sisters as they caught sight of the scene below. Raising her head just enough to look down Uulia gazed in utter horror at the butchery below.

The hollow was a massive one, easily large enough to hold an entire chapter of Space Marines. Tables cut from stone formed a half circle on the end farthest from the entry. These tables surrounded a massive icon, a skull, half white and half black. The symbol of the Sons of Malice was unsurprising in itself but as she looked Uulia could detect subtle shapes in the icon that told her a sickening truth, the symbol had been formed out of hundreds and thousands of skulls and bones. Torches ringed the entire of the hollow lighting the Sons below in a hellish blood red. The Sons were sitting in groups at the various tables apparently sharing a meal of raw meat. Then a terrible thought hit Uulia and she felt her stomach turn; where were the prisoners? Her eyes focused on the tables and the meat being consumed. It simply looked like meat until her gaze swept to the foot of the table. Severed heads littered the ground, each with a hole directly in the center of the forehead that could only have come from a shot from a bolt pistol. This was what they had been hiding. This was what was worth denying the Inquisition for. Blood rites by Astartes had been known to happen but these were secret rituals, blood sacrifice to an idol, ritual cannibalism, some of the very things that had caused the Horus Heresy ten-thousand years ago. This was the basis of the Inquisition, to root out heresy and corruption in all institutions no matter how old or noble. Uulia looked out at the sight and at last understood what had to be done.

+Excerpt from Filii Malicum Rituale+

...As our bodies are the legacy of the Emperor and the Unknown Primarch so too do our most hallowed rituals come from the tribes of Scelus. All of us have known hunger, all of us have had to fight for scarps of food, and all of us know the law of combat. With food ever in short supply any warrior or enemy captured is sacrificed to Malice, their blood offered as tribute. The flesh, however, belongs to the tribe and is a gift of victory from Malice. So it has been for hundreds and thousands of generations. While we have been elevated beyond the needs of such a meal the rite of victory remains at the heart of our Chapter. Only the strong survive on our world, only those that survive the hunger of Scelus. Any enemy that would either surrender or allow themselves to be captured is the weakest of the weak and deserves no mercy. They are to be slain. Their flesh eaten and blood offered to Malice. Though our bodies were forged by the Emperor and the Primarch our strength has always been hidden in our past. The Emperor may protect but Malice provides.

+End of Excerpt+

The attack hit the Sons of Malice totally unprepared. Distracted by their gruesome meal and sure of their security the first sign of danger was a bolter round impacting on one of the tables. From the forest a horde of warrior women charged, the sounds of gunfire almost muffled by the screaming of prayers that they spat in the face of their enemies. From one side of the hollow came this frenzied charge and from the other, rising like wrathful stars, came a host of Seraphim assault troops and at the head of the sisters of battle ran Cannoness Uulia of the Tears of the Emperor and Inquisitor Pietas of the Emperor's Holy Ordos of the Inquisition. Uulia's metal teeth gleamed in the flashes of light caused by her inferno pistol as she screamed out one of the many litanies of fury taught to every sister in the convent. In her other hand a Chainsword whirred angrily, waiting to cut into traitorous flesh and shed heretical blood. Inquisitor Pietas by contrast hid her psyker talents no longer and the very air flickered with electricity around her. In her hand was a sword that glowed white with energy and even her eyes had changed from a normal gray blue into a storm vortex of blues and burning white.

Shocked by the unexpected attack the Sons of Malice had only seconds to react before that charge would reach them reacted with all the speed of years of training allied with superhuman muscles. Bolt pistols appeared from the deposits used to dispatch the prisoners and combat knives grabbed from the table and those same tables flipped over to form makeshift barriers. With quick shouts Kathal, Erstol, and Captain Tovac of the 8th Company rallied their men just as the Sergeants rallied their squads. Most armies caught in such a trap would have been quickly overrun, most wouldn't have even been able to put up a fight, and Inquisitor Pietas had counted on this in her battle plan. Unfortunately for her these were not ill disciplined Imperial Guard or fractious Ork tribes who might have fallen. These were the Sons of Malice, the Emperor's Angels of Death. They would stand their ground against any odds and never yield. With a tremendous crash the two lines met and battle began in earnest. Outgunned the Sons leaped into the midst of the Adepta Soroitas using their greater size to tackle the Battle-Sisters to the ground. The blood started to flow as bolter rounds from both sides found purchase in the press of bodies.

Standing just behind his men Erstol, Kathal and Tovac took stock of the situation. While the Son's quick response had bought them some time the simple logic of the battle was beginning to assert itself. There were simply too many soldiers for the Sons to fight off without their armor and equipment. The only hope for them was in reinforcement from the fortress-monastery but their vox signals had met with no response. Turning to Erstol Tovac spoke in a quiet, angry tone.

"They will be done with us in less than fifteen minutes unless we do something drastic. We must gain an advantage somehow."

Kathal frowned as a bolter round flew past his ear.

"What do you suggest? They have every advantage here. We are outnumbered, our men virtually unarmed and we are cutoff from any aid apparently." His dark eyes flashed with fury "Whatever happens I will see that damned bitch of an Inquisitor burn for this, no matter the cost."

Erstol surveyed the battle slowly, searching for any opportunity. His eyes found Uulia and Pietas at the forefront of the attack. The attack was fiercest around them and while elsewhere the battle was still uncertain the sisters who fought by their Canoness and the Inquisitor were beginning to break through the Sons' line. Erstol gestured towards the Inquisitor "We need to break their attack right there. If they see their leaders fall and the main thrust of their attack break then they will hesitate and that hesitation will give us a chance." Kathal nodded curtly "Agreed, we must strike them hard and fast. The Inquisitor is mine though, no one is to interfere. Gather your best men for the assault quickly and then form on me." An idea occurred to Erstol and he smiled wolfishly "Captain, let my men lead, I have a trick that might just let us break into their lines with greatly reduced casualties on our side." Kathal shrugged "As you like Brother Erstol, I care not how we attain victory this night so long as we gain it soon." Erstol saluted "My thanks Captain, I will not disappoint." Without waiting for a response Erstol ran through his company, tapping men on the shoulder as he did. When he had assembled twenty he quickly briefed them on his plan. "How will we make it through the line?" Seargent Athric asked. Erstol smiled "By using an old terran tactic brother, we form a tortoise."

Lorae was frustrated with the fighting and her squad's lack of effectiveness. The crush of bodies made it all but impossible for her squad to fire at the enemy without hitting her friends. Gritting her teeth she pushed forward, trying to come to grips with someone. Suddenly she heard her sisters crying out in pain and fear and before her eyes a wall of stone shoved its way through the front line. Lorae gaped in shock as this moving fortification continued forward, its pace steady and unyielding. From the cracks in the stone she could see bolt pistols protruding and firing at her squad. Marshaling her surprise she attempted to rally her troops but her cries fell upon deaf ears and the Sons continued their implacable advance. "Pietas to Lorae." her vox crackled "We see that the Sons are breaking through your line, how is this possible? Are they attempting to flee?" Studying the situation Lorae quickly realized what was going on. "They are trying to break through to your position I think Milady." "Emperor's blood!" Pietas cursed "What are you waiting for? Cut them down!" "It isn't that simple Milady, they are using the stones as shields. There are no openings for attack." Pietas' response was filled with static as her anger caused her psychic powers to flare "THEN BREAK THEIR SHILEDS! WHAT IN THE BLESSED EMPEROR'S NAME DO YOU THINK HEAVY WEAPONS ARE FOR? STOP THEM IMMEDIATELY!" Lorae winced at the tirade but responded calmly "It will be done Milady." Turning to the remainder of her squad she picked up a plasma gun from a fallen sister. "You heard our Lady Sisters; it is time to bring the Emperor's enemies to justice." As one her squad cheered and braced themselves for combat as the living battering ram of stone moved ever closer to their line.

Ba'Kel Draak had fought in thousands of battles on hundreds of worlds, had fought Ork Warbosses, Eldar Farseers, and Champions of Chaos and always walked away victorious. Never before though had he been so sorely pressed by a foe though as he was by this nightmarish child thing. His body already bore several cuts where the assassin had outmaneuvered him. He should have been struck down twice already but each time Sun had merely cut him a little deeper than before. Had he been in armor, had he been on a battle field and with his plasma pistol in his other hand the fight would have been laughably simple. An assassin's duel was not something he had ever been called upon to fight and it showed. Sun was playing with him, reveling in her ability to strike down a being supposedly so far removed from the weaknesses that humans felt. Dancing in and out of shadows with terrible speed, dodging and parrying at the last possible second, it was almost as if Draak was dueling a shadow. Draak knew he couldn't win if the fight continued in the dark and cramped conditions of his personal room. He had to break out and soon.

Suddenly he heard heavy footfalls just outside his door and the familiar voice of Oedvi cut through the fight. "Chapter Master are you safe? We are in the most grave of dangers!" Draak barely jumped away from a vicious slash and shouted back "I am attacked Brother, an assassin from the Inquisitor!" He heard Oedvi curse and the door shake violently "The door is locked shut, I can't get in!" Draak steeled himself and charged towards Sun, trying to drive her away from the door. Sun gave ground but as Draak reached for the lock she lashed out with a thin length of wire. Blood spurted from Draak's wrist and he roared in pain as it cut him almost to the bone. Instantly the fight was much more serious and Draak was forced to focus totally on defense. Sun knew that she could defeat Ba'Kel Draak easily in this condition but Draak and another Astartes would be too much to easily deal with. The door should hold even a Space Marine for just long enough to finish the first part of her mission and then she would be ready to attack Oedvi as he came through the door. No more games then. With a quick press of a button she activated the poison dispensers on her weapons. Draak might be able to take two hits, maybe three, but more than that and he would be paralyzed and easy prey.

The fight above Scelus mirrored the battles on the surface. The Lex Talionis was the stronger vessel but the troopships had a unique strategy that negated many of the battle-barge's advantages, suicide. While troopships Alpha and Beta kept the Lex Talionis under constant fire the Gamma method of attack was attempting to ram the Sons' ship. They nearly had succeeded and only Physo's quick reactions and an emergency boost of the engines had saved them from destruction. Now he was engaged in a game of cat and mouse. The Lex Talionis was more than a match for any of the ships in a normal setting but with the Gamma trailing behind still attempting to ram the larger ship couldn't concentrate its fire. "Broadside from troopship Alpha incoming" the tracker servitor droned. "Emperor damn it! We aren't going to win like this." Physo slammed his fist against his command throne leaving a large dent. He grimaced at the tactical holograms showing his situation and wracked his brain for a way to finish the fight.

Suddenly it came to him, insanely risky but possible. "Physo to Navigator Scravo" the guttural voice answered him "Scravo here Captain, how may I serve?" Physo hurriedly outlined his idea. Scravo responded with dead silence and at first Physo thought he had lost communication until, speaking slowly and firmly, Scravo answered him "Captain, what you ask is absolute madness. There is no guarantee it will work and it is almost certain death to try." Physo lept from his seat in frustration "All death is certain navigator and I have a terrible feeling my brothers are dying down there while I run in circles up here. Make the arrangements and await my command. Fear not, the Emperor protects." He heard the navigator grunt in disagreement but an order was an order "So be it Captain, let us hope that we are the ones that He chooses to protect."

6

Silence of the Grave

Vengeance

Erstol's squad ran full tilt into the Celestians using the stone tables like riot shields. Time was running out for the Sons and Erstol knew it. Kathal and Tovac would only be ready for a few moments longer before they would be unable to mount a charge. He saw the squad leader of the Celestians shouting as she watched her sisters get trampled by the Sons' charge. With a snarl she grabbed gestured and a group of her warriors armed with plasma guns opened up on the advancing marines. The first few shots seemed to do nothing more than graze the stone shields but after a quick handful of volleys stones began to crack and disintegrate. Erstol Knew his advantage was played out and switched tactics immediately. "Break charge! Close the distance and use our enemies own friends as shields against their plasma guns!" With speed born of desperation Erstol and his front rank dropped what remained of the "tortoise" and ran full out to come to grips with sisters directly in front of them. They squared off against the sisters and by the simple press of bodies made it impossible for them to bring their heavier weapons to bear.. For his part Erstol faced the leader, a tall delicate featured woman with white blonde hair. "Why are you attacking us? We are on the same side!" Her lip curled at the thought "No, you are touched by Chaos. Every one of you mocks the Emperor's light with your dark sacrifices to idols and cannibalism. You are a traitor and a heretic and you will burn!" With a snarl she lunged towards him recklessly, catching him off his guard, and smashed right into him. The impact knocked Erstol to the ground and only luck and quick reflexes saved him from being decapitated as Lorae swept her chainsword towards his neck. Pushing off from the ground as hard as he could he somehow managed to roll away just before the adamantine teeth of the sword could cut him. He had lost his bolt pistol in the tackle and only had a standard issue combat knife to fight her with. All around him his men were in a similar plight as Adepta Soroitas battle plate fended off the majority of their blows while they had only speed to defend against the Seraphim's attacks.

Another sweep of Lorae's chainsword came close to killing him but Erstol again managed to dodge away. He felt hot anger burning in him as he realized what this battle meant for his chapter. Even if they did somehow survive they would be outcasts, enemies of the Imperium. They would be hunted by every servant of the Emperor in the galaxy and even friendly chapters would spit at their very name. One woman had done this, the Inquisitor. "If we must fall then we will take every one of you with us." He growled and slowly stood straight, dropping his combat knife. "Kill me then, if you can." Lorae didn't hesitate at all and swept her sword in a horizontal line at his exposed throat. Moving with speed born of countless years of training Erstol kicked himself forward and inside the arc of Lorae's swing. His left hand caught her wrist and a quick movement caused the sword to fall from her hand. His right struck the Seraphim right on her throat instantly collapsing her windpipe and lifting her up into the air. As she fell to the ground Erstol shouted "KATHAL! TOVAC! NOW!" Down the line that Erstol's men had created ran the two other captains, each followed by a select strike group from their own company.

Linking up with Erstol and ten of his own men they formed a spearpoint of flesh and steel and drove straight towards the Inquisitor and her retinue. Anger fueled their charge, the almost uncontrollable need to make the invaders pay for their attack. In the back of every marine's mind was the certainty that, unlike every other battle they had fought, if they lost their chapter, their victory, even their existence would be eradicated from annals of Imperial history. They knew that their homeworld would be destroyed and that their tribes would be harshly punished. Though none of them had yet had time to say it they all knew that they were renegades from the Imperium, outcasts from their own race. If the Imperium and the Emperor would renounce them then they would openly worship a force that had never abandoned them and always assured their victory. As he always had Malice would see them through this battle. With no outward signal the Sons stopped speaking, falling back on training honed by childhood hunting and a several lifetimes of war. The way of Scelus was simple, what you did would grant you the right to speak of it. Hunting on Scelus required absolute silence if one wanted to survive long enough to kill one's prey and this simple necessity was drilled into the minds of any child at an early age. Silence was Malice's promise of death in the old legends and the chapter named for him had shown that to be a reality many times. So it was that as they charged towards their foe the Sons stopped calling out orders, stopped screaming battle cries, and even ceased their sounds of pain. In perfect silence the Sons of Malice crashed directly into the Sisters of Battle main line.

Uulia's squad was the first to clash with the Sons' desperate charge and to ferocity of the attack took the sisters completely off guard. Veteran warriors of scores of holy crusades were scythed down by the enraged Marines. While armor gave the sisters better protection they were still children by the standard of an Astartes and that experience was winning the fight. As Uulia watched the attack a figure broke through the mass of tangled combatants. She recognized Erstol at once. His movements were calm and oddly unhurried as he walked towards her with all the inevitability of death itself. Uulia felt a nameless dread well up in her as his eyes locked onto her. He pointed Lorae's chainsword at her and then began to run faster than she would have believed possible. One of the younger sisters tried to strike at him and without slowing Erstol cut parried her blow away and with a savage backstroke cut the girl's head from her shoulders.

Seeing her sister fall so quickly to the brutal strike shook some of the paralysis from Uulia, filled her with the anger to start firing. Even as her own shots rang out other sisters joined their commander and unloaded every weapon they could at the Sons. Many of the shots seemed to go wide and even those few that hit home didn't raise so much as a grunt from the Sons "What manner of devilry is this?" Uulia thought as she tried to aim for the head of the Marine directly in front of her "Why don't they scream or speak?" As the Sons moved in, heedless of the sisters' attacks, the Sons would quickly and efficiently execute any sisters in their way. Uulia found herself watching Erstol running in a direct line towards her position cutting down anyone that got in his way with lightning fast sweeps of his weapon. She fired until her gun wouldn't fire anymore and yet none of her shots ever even came near him. Steadying herself she raised her chainsword and set her feet, bracing herself against the expected collision. Just before reaching her though he stopped, resting his sword lightly against his shoulder, staring at her silently. Uulia gritted her teeth as she waited for him to speak, to curse, to scream an invocation to a dark power, anything other than stand quietly with that horrible unblinking stare.

Uulia finally cracked and screamed at Erstol "You brought this on yourselves heretic! That you hid this place proves that you knew your guilt else why the deception? If you had a legitimate truth we would have gone our way. You KNOW this is wrong and yet have continued down the road of corruption. You damn yourself without needing to even say a word!"

Erstols slowly shock his head and his eyes looked tired as he revved the motor on his chainsword. Uulia struck first, flinging her spent bolt-pistol at Erstol as she lunged at him. Moving deliberately Erstol stepped to the side of the thrown gun and parried her thrust easily. Uulia launched a flurry of blows at Erstol, her speed increased by her armor's psudo-muscles, and yet could not find an opening in his defense. His eyes never left her as they fought and even so his movements were fluid and his defense unbeatable. Uulia slashed wildly and without any thought of tactics. Her blows of desperation were knocked aside with contemptuous ease and Erstol swept his sword straight down in a vertical slice. Uulia barely managed to bring her own sword up to block and the two blades crashed into each other. The force of the strike brought Uulia to her knees and she had to brace herself against the ground to keep the Space Marine's whirring blade from cutting her in half.

Erstol pushed hard against the blade and even with only one hand his strength and leverage was slowly pushing her blade down. Uulia used her other hand to add more strength to her defense and at last the blades hovered in equilibrium just above her head. A savage grin flashed on her face "What now traitor? You and I are at a stalemate now." Like a striking serpent Erstol's left hand streaked out and fastened on the hilt and he slowly began to pry it from her grasp. In her position she couldn't kick out or even break away. She realized she was trapped, unable to maneuver, attack, or even to defend. Uulia knew couldn't hold onto the chainsword much longer, Erstol was simply too strong. Without it she would be dead in less than a second, she had only one choice. With a whispered command word she lunged forward she sunk her metallic teeth into Erstol's wrist biting down has hard as she could. His reaction was swift a quick jerk back and then a punch straight to her face that knocked her a good five feet back and onto her back and felt a searing pain in her chest where Erstol's had slashed his chainsword. She coughed and a little blood from her cough marred her cream colored armor. Summoning her last strength she laughed at Erstol "I told you to hope we never met in battle, you are as dead as I will be. My metal teeth aren't just for show, on the inside of each tooth there is a different poison and my bite just delivered them all into your blood. You'll probably be dead before me. She saw him stagger a little, his eyes closed. As she watched him she began to feel cold and it was starting to get hard to focus but Uulia didn't care, she had taken her enemy with her. She was about to let herself slip into the grip of death when she saw Erstol's muscles tensing almost to the breaking point. The Space Marine spat at the ground and slowly he rose to stand straight, facing the dying Sister of Battle. For the first time Erstol spoke. "A worthy attempt Canoness, against any other opponent probably a successful one. However there are few enough poisons in the universe that an Astartes cannot defeat. I am sorry that you must all die here today, this was not how it should have ended but I see now that it could have done so no other way." With that last sentence Uulia felt her breath slowing and darkness filled her mind as her spirit went to join her Emperor.

Aboard Troopship Alpha everything was going even better than expected. The Lex Talionis had been kept under constant fire and hadn't been able to bring its powerful broadsides to bear effectively due to Troopship Gamma's continual attempts to ram it. Ship Master Yoric hadn't expected it to be this easy, in fact he had expected to be vaporized the instant the fight began. The Emperor, apparently, had other plans. He was about to order another broadside when he saw the Lex Talionis heading straight for him. Yoric frowned, what was the Captain of the Lex Talionis thinking? Was he going to ram the Alpha? Was this a suicidal last attack? Whatever the case it didn't matter, his duty was clear. If the Sons of Malice wanted to ram his ship and die with him or die from bombardment either way was fine by him. "All hand brace for impact. Gunner teams on starboard side I want as many volleys as you can before they hit." he then switched to the vox net and contacted the Beta telling them to take position just out of range of any explosions to finish the Lex Talionis off if necessary. He watched as the Son's Battle barge approached, feeling the tension growing as he realized that they must truly intend to ram. "Collision in 30 seconds...15...10..." Yoric Closed his eyes and held his breath waiting for the inevitable explosions and loss of gravity. Instead he heard the countdown stop at 3. "Lost target, cannot reacquire" the servitor intoned. Yoric's eyes opened and he looked out the viewport to see the Lex Talionis gone but the Gamma bearing down on his ship instead. His mouth dropped and for a second he simply starred but then his training took over "EMERGENCY THRUST! Get us clear!" But he knew it was too late to make a difference, the Gamma had been at full speed and his main engines had barely been warmed up. Suddenly the Servitor signaled a new contact. With a sick feeling he turned to look and, even as the Gamma smashed into his ship, he saw the Lex Talionis exiting warp translation on the other side of his ship.

"Physo to Navigator Scravo, my compliments and thanks. That cannot have been easy for you to do at such short notice." Physo heard the strain in his navigator's voice "Yes Captain, very difficult. I take it that my efforts had the desired effect?" Physo looked at the viewscreen and nodded "Aye, the Alpha and Gamma are all but destroyed and you brought us out in a perfect position to strike the Beta before they could respond. The fight appears to be over." Scravo's tired voice held an ironic edge "It would appear that your lesson in faith moved the Emperor to our protection, I should never have doubted your wisdom Captain." Physo chuckled and replied with mock seriousness "Your piety is inspiring Navigator, I could learn a thing or two." Turning he walked over to the auspix control panel "Any word from the surface? What has happened during our fight?" The serf controlling the auspix shook his head "No word yet Lord but the surface burns, the fortress is under attack as well as a location in the forest..." Physo's hand suddenly convulsed, crushing the back of the chair. "Enough of this, get me scans of the surface immediately. We must be ready to help our brothers at a moment's notice. I refuse to float in space doing nothing! The second you have a clear readout of the enemy positions or a signal from the surface fire a precision lance strike and incinerate our foes!" The surf nodded "Your will my lord. In the meantime?" Physo stalked angrily back towards his command throne "In the meantime send coded messages to all the offworld companies and their vessels, Even if all my brothers below die I will make sure our chapter survives!"

Ba'Kel Draak lasted almost a minute, a testament to both the super human strength of the Astartes and his own formidable will to fight. The poison that Sun used was one that should have paralyzed him after only three hits but it had taken a flurry of strikes by the deathcult assassin to finally rob him of his ability to move. As he lay on the ground the assassin moved in to finish the kill and he steeled himself for the end. Sun's terrifying visage appeared before his eyes and she spoke, again without breaking her unnatural smile. "I must thank you Chapter Master, fighting you has been most entertaining. Hopefully your Chief Librarian will be as amusing. Goodbye." With two quick jabs she stabbed both of Draak's hearts and blood spurted into the air. Draak went rigid, gasping as his life began to ebb. "Oh merciful Emperor no..." he groaned. Sun, her back to him as she prepared for the attack on the Librarian gave another unnerving girlish giggle "That's right, pray for your soul, maybe it will ease your passing." Draak coughed, his blood still slowly pumping out of him "Not...praying ...for me...Praying...for my...Brothers..." He coughed again "You...might...kill me...but...they will ...survive...everything….has...changed…..Our...path…..They're Path…..lies…with HIM now..." And with that Ba'Kel Draak, Chapter Master of the Sons of Malice for centuries, died.

Sun paid no heed to the dying Marine. She focused her complete attention on the door. The hammering and shouting had stopped but Sun's enhanced sense told her that the Librarian was still on the other side. Was he waiting for her to open the door? If so he was completely mistaken, Sun was not stupid. If he wouldn't come in then she would use the window, go a level above and backtrack quickly to attack him. She was just about to make a move towards the window when she heard a crackling sound and the air began to smell of ozone. The dark metal of the door began to glow white hot and bend inwards. Sun dived into the arming alcove as the door exploded in molten fragments. Standing at the other side was Chief Librarian Oedvi, his hand extended and smoking. His eyes burned so bright that they were more silver white than blue and the mist around him crackled with spikes of lightning. He walked slowly, unarmored and with no weapons, and looked at Draak's body. Seizing her chance Sun leapt from the shadows to strike Oedvi in the back. Without turning Oedvi moved calmly to the side and her strike went wide. Before she could move from her landing a voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere roared and drove her to her knees. MURDERER normally she would have laughed but for perhaps the first time in her life Sun realized she was fighting someone on an entirely different level than her. She tried to move but was held in place, as if her muscles had been disconnected from her brain.

I SENSE THE STAIN OF DEATH ON YOU ASSASSIN, YOU HAVE BEEN KILLING WITHOUT HONOR FOR A LONG TIME

Sun fought hard and slowly managed to turn to face Oedvi "I learned at a young age that whether you kill an enemy face to face or strike from the shadows the result is the same." She spoke through her gritted teeth. "I also learned that there is no point having "honor" if it will only get you killed." She kicked Draak's corpse "I at least gave him a chance, let him have a weapon, where as you...with all that honor will you hold me still and kill me or will you give me the chance I gave him?" She didn't expect it to work, didn't expect this psyker to actually give her a chance, but every second she talked and he listened she was getting more control of her body. Her kick had been a test, seeing how hard it would be to break the hold he had on her. YOU DARE ASK FOR CONSIDERATION MURDERER? I AM NO FOOL, YOU WILL DIE HERE AND NOW She felt force gathering and made her move. With an unnaturally strong kick she launched Draak's body at Oedvi and, using the momentum of the kick, back flipped quickly towards the window. She reached it and without turning spoke "If you want a real challenge Librarian then seek me outside." With that she casually jumped out of the window an instant before a bolt of lightning blasted exactly where she had paused.

Pietas and her forces had formed in a tight circle as close to the cliff walls as possible. While the Sisters were still numerically superior the Sons' assault was carving its toward her with frightening speed. Contact had been lost with Uulia and her detachment and no word had come from the Celestians. As befitted an agent of the Inquisition Pietas stood at the front line ready to unleash all the psychic powers at her command on this damned chapter. Still the enemy carved their way forward and the sisters waited for to repel the imminent assault. After what seemed like ages the final line before the command line. One of the Sisters opened fire, quickly fired by others but the Sons closed into to close combat range. At the forefront of the rush ran two captains in a straight line for Pietas. Erstol and Tovac, aided by several of their squad mates engaged the sisters surrounding the Inquisitor, keeping them from assisting her. Kathal walked slowly through the line created by his brothers, twin chainswords swinging in time with his march. As he walked towards her he spoke, his words tight and edged with wrath.

"Inquisitor Pietas. You came to our world, demanded our help, made use of our talents and we willingly provided you with a flawless victory. In return you disrespected our traditions, spied on us, plotted against us, and attempted to murder us. Worse you have made us outcasts, renegades who cannot return to the Imperium we are created to serve. On your word alone has this occurred without any chance of an explanation. Our path is now clear though our future is not. You, however, will be dealt with tonight."

Pietas spat at the ground "All your words only underscore your guilt as does your veneration of unholy powers. Do your worse traitor, I am not afraid to die for I will do so knowing that I signed your death warrant before ever I stood on your planet."

With that she let her psychic powers infuse her sword making it glow with a violent silvery light. Kathal, 1st Captain of the Sons of Malice, smiled and calmly walked towards the Inquisitor that had tried to destroy his chapter.

The main gates of the fortress-monastery had been locked open by Sun's sabotage forcing the few remaining Sons into a desperate defensive action against the attacking Sisters. While surprise had been on the Sister's side training and natural terrain had gave the defender's the advantage. The attack was stalled and the Sons were about to launch a counterstrike when Savina and her "penitents" arrived on the scene. Screaming an epistle Savina loosed the controls that kept the unfortunate men and women lucid and calm. Instantly over a dozen screams of rage and anguish filled the air as combat stims filled the bloodstreams of the poor unfortunate souls who had been condemned to Arco-Flagellation. One of the worst punishments that the Ecclesiarchy could inflict, an Arco-Flagellant was a man or woman who had been deemed impure by the ruling clerics of the Imperial dogma. Instead of being put to death as most sinners were these souls were condemned to a life of perpetual torment and redemption. Their bodies were enhanced with stim packs to numb the pain and drive them into a killing frenzy, their arms replaced with vicious claw whips, and their minds conditioned to seek out and kill any enemy of the Imperium. Only in death could their service end and only a prodigious amount of fire power could give them the death that they craved. Charging with unnatural speed they quickly made it to the center of the fighting and began slashing a path through the marines and Sisters alike. Wading into the fray with her staff in hand Savina watched proudly as her charges inflicted carnage upon friend and foe alike. Surely nothing could defeat such instruments of righteousness.

From the shadows next to her Sun materialized as if she had been conjured. Savina blinked, Sun was supposed to remain in the fortress to assist in the capture "What are you doing here? Was your mission successful?" Sun straightened from her crouch "Yes and no, Draak is dead but the psyker...he had me at a disadvantage." The priestess frowned and was about to remind Sun of her oath and her duty but a quick glance at the assassin told her that the reminder would prove hazardous to her health. Instead she cleared her throat and gestured at the battle "The assault her goes well, soon you will have another chance to strike down the impure." Sun shook her head slowly "It won't last, our advantage was surprise and that is long gone now. The psyker was also far more powerful than our information suggested he would be. Has there been any word from our Lady or Uulia?" Savina was slightly shocked, this was the most she had ever heard the normally silent assassin speak at one time. "No...not since they signaled that their attack had begun. What do you it won't last?" Sun raised her black gloved hand and pointed at the battle in front of them. "I mean that right there."

Savina turned to look where the assassin pointed. At first she didn't see anything out of the ordinary crush of battle and was about to ask Sun what she had been pointing at. Then she saw it. The attack that had been breaking through the defenses had been halted again. From the center of the marines' line a light began to glow. A man, in form at least, wreathed in lightning and white fire appeared and continued his slow walk toward the center of the fight. An Arco-Flagellant charged him, its whip claws stained with blood from the Son it had just finished disemboweling. The penitent-berzerker lashed at the man before he seemed even to notice its presence. The whip connected with an invisible barrier inches in front of his body. Lightning flashed and with a roar of thunder the whip, and the arm it was connected to, exploded violently. Undaunted the Arco-Flagellant tried to tackle the man. Without slowing his walk the man raised his hand and grabbed the penitent by the throat and, with a quick movement, broke its neck without any apparent effort. Other combatants took note and simply moved out of his way until finally, at the center of the battle, he stopped.

Standing there Oedvi felt the power singing in his blood, promising infinite possibilities and even more power if he would only let go. A Librarian was trained to draw the powers of his mind out, not to use power from unknown forces. For over ten-thousand years that had been the edict of the Emperor and those Librarians who had defied it had universally been corrupted by the power they sought to master. For many long years Oedvi had heeded that prohibitions and ignored the siren song of the warp, forced limits upon how much power he used. No longer. Reaching within himself he drew on energy from the rage and hate screaming in his mind, using the raw power to empower him. As electricity pulsed around him and fire burned at his feet he forced all the energy he had gathered into his right fist as he smashed it into the ground. A wave of arcane energy radiated out from him striking the Sisters and Arco-Flagellants like lightning. Arcing from battle-sister to battle-sister soon his attack had touched everyone in the battle but his comrades. Those closest had died instantly while those at the edges of the conflict had been wounded sorely. Only one woman remained unharmed, a women in hair robes outside of the press of battle. Oedvi frowned, he had hoped that the assassin would have come to fight him but what could one expect from a coward? The woman started running at him, her staff leveled like a spear. A smile twitched at his lips. Ah, the bravery of the fanatic! Raising his hand he focused his energy and prepared to end this foolish woman's life.

Suddenly pain erupted from his back and streaked down his back. He tried to turn, tried to raise a defensive shield but and other line of fiery pain slashed across his left leg at the hamstring and he fell to his knees. He reached around trying to grab his attacker but only managed to get stabbed under his armpit. Only luck and his double layer of bone kept his heart from being pierced. Another stab pierced his back and found a lung and he gasped as he felt it collapse. A hand gripped the back of his neck and forced him to look straight up and into the dead black eyes of Lo Sha Sun. Her hideous smile seemed, if possible, even wider than before. "I told you, honor means nothing if it gets you killed. Honor breeds over-confidence and arrogance. That is why you are dead and I am not." Oedvi tried to find something to say, to stall for time, to blast her to atoms but she was as good as her word. Without waiting for any reply Sun quickly slashed her knife across his throat.

Time seemed to stop for Oedvi, he could see the knife begin its slow track from left to right and felt the searing pain it caused but after a moment he realized nothing was moving. The knife still hadn't cut very far and its momentum had ceased. "Did I do this?" Oedvi wondered "I knew I had strength but nothing like this." He tried to move but found that he was as still as the knife no matter how hard he strained. "So I didn't cause this..."

No, I did.

The voice came from the knife and Oedvi looked closely to see his face speaking to him from the reflection on the blade. The image was distorted, giving his face a skull like appearance while casting one half in deep shadow and the other in the electric white of his psychic aura.

"What? Who are you? You aren't me, that at least is obvious."

His face smirked back at him revealing sharp pointed teeth.

You know who I am already. You always knew this day would come.

"What point is there in communication? I am about to die. You can't gain anything from me."

This is not the time of your death. Your service to me has only just begun.

Oedvi snorted "Clearly not."

Your chapter will survive this night but without a purpose, without a path, in time you will be hunted down and destroyed. Your homeworld will burn, your tribes butchered, and all you have done erased including your name.

"Lies! My brothers will not fall so easily. You know nothing of our Chapter or our destiny."

His reflection fixed him with a stern glance and the eyes burned with a savage blue light.

I know more of your chapter and its history than any being in the universe, more than even the Emperor. You were placed on Scelus for a reason and that reason is at the heart of your chapter. You are meant to fight and destroy the forces of the Dark Gods. More than that you are meant to release the strongest enemy of Chaos since the Emperor himself.

"Who...who do you speak of?"

I speak of the Outcast, the Renegade, I speak of myself Librarian.

"You never answered my question, who are you? Why should I trust the word of a warp entity?

I have told you who I am. You will trust me because you have always trusted me. I will save your chapter and in return you will release me. Serve me as you always have and I will show you the darkest secrets of the universe...and the hidden truth about your chapter.

Oedvi felt a cold chill run through him as a sick realization came to him.

"You are a god aren't you, a Chaos god?"

I am many things, right now I am your deliverer or your destroyer. Choose.

There was no escape for his chapter Oedvi understood. This had been fated to happen, made to happen, by a force beyond mortal understanding. He knew that by agreeing he was only paying acting out the final part of a play.

"I...accept your aid. I assume my brothers also hear your voice?"

No. You are my prophet. After you are done here gather your men and march to the hollow with all your prisoners. I will impart knowledge of a ritual to contact me again. There I will make your chapter the same offer I have made you and the one who speaks first shall be my champion.

"Very well. Please, before I return to normal time, I must know...I must hear it from you...WHO ARE YOU?"

His reflection's face lost all semblance of humanity taking on the form of a half black and half white skull. Blue fire burned in the sockets and long, inhumane teeth formed a mouth opened either in laughter or hunger. The skull was in the center of an eight point star that pierced through a circle and seemed to writhe of its own volition. Twin beams of icy light lanced from the sockets of the skull striking Oedvi in the chest.

I am what I have always been. I am Malice and you are my Sons.

Pain exploded over Oedvi's hearts and at the same moment he felt power that made his previous strength seem insignificant flowing into him. His whole body vibrated with energy and suddenly the knife cutting him seemed dull against his skin. The muscles on his back writhed and shifted as his form changed with the influx of eldritch power. As time began to flow back at its normal pace Sun's knife continued its slash but her blade drew not a single drop of blood. The Librarian's skin had become as hard as adamantite and no matter how hard Sun pressed she couldn't pierce it. She felt the energies building in Oedvi and dived as far out of the way as she could, Savina was not so quick. As the priestess charged an explosion rocked the ground around the Librarian. Raw force through Savina high in the air and she screamed as she began to fall. She never reached the ground. Oedvi reached out and caught her in a telekinetic hold stopping her fall and holding her still. She screamed again as she realized her plight "SUN! Help me! Kill him!' but there was no sign of the assassin. Looking down she felt her eyes drawn to Oedvi's. No more blue fire, no more silver light, just total darkness deeper than the darkest night. Other changes had been wrought on the former Space Marine's form. His skin had become scaled and turned black on one half of his body while the other remained seemingly human. His shadow writhed around him as if of its own accord forming terrible shapes as it moved. Oedvi had become a thing of nightmare, his very presence enough to drive one to madness. Staring at this figure Savina saw her death in this thing's eyes and tried to fight back but to no avail. She saw the thing smile at her efforts and then it spoke, its voice grating and harsh, "Die….." and he closed his hand, his telekinetic force quickly crushing her to death.

As Savina's body dropped Sun launched herself at Oedvi again but this time her attack met with no success. Every time she struck it was as if she was stabbing a block of iron and every slash felt as if she had tried to cut through solid rock. As she rained blows on her enemy she became aware that not only was he not fighting back, he was laughing. She jumped as high as she could and struck for his face but her blow was stopped a scant inch his eye. She found herself floating, trapped in Oedvi's psychic grasp. "As….pleasant as this has been I am afraid our time together must end assassin" he rasped "My chapter is saved and you and your army are dead." Sun looked at him and the first genuine smile he had seen from her slowly spread across her face. "Yes….we are dead…..but your Chapter is definitely not saved….look down Librarian…..See what survival has cost you…." She began to laugh, no girlish giggle this time, and watched as Oedvi slowly looked down and saw his new form, felt his wings, and at last noticed two symbols seared into his skin over his hearts. It was the same symbol he had seen on the Hak ra kek Malal and on his blade, the eight point star of chaos, the mark of a traitor to the Imperium. Just over the mark of Chaos was a grisly representation of a skull, half of it the black of his new skin and half of it the lighter burned skin, a mocking echo of his chapter's emblem. "You see?" Sun asked as she continued her laughing "Your precious Sons of "Malice" are nothing but the puppets of the Dark Gods." Oedvi's teeth clenched but his answer to Sun was calm and measured when it came "No. If anything we will be the Dark Gods greatest foes. This was always the path we were meant to walk." With a flick of his wrist he telekinetically ripped her head from her shoulders. Letting the body drop he looked to see his brothers mopping up the remnants of the Sister's assault. "This was always our path..." He whispered and began the slow walk back to his brothers.

Kathal had always been a great warrior, since the day he could first walk he had trained every day in the arts of combat. He had been selected to become a Space Marine at eleven and by the time he was thirty he had already moved up the ranks into the second company. Within a hundred years he had been selected to lead the hallowed 1st company and had been trained in the use of tactical dreadnaught armor. For another hundred and a half years he had fought brilliantly, leading his company to victory after victory. Many said that the only thing keeping him from becoming the Chapter Master was that Ba'Kel Draak was still alive.

Starting slowly he tested the Inquisitor's defenses with some slow swings of his chainswords. Left, right, left and then a quick thrust to keep Pietas on her toes, predictably she managed to block each one and surprised him by actually trying to strike back. Kathal blocked her swing quickly and moved into a more intensive series of attacks, forcing Pietas back. Cursing she realized that she was going to have her back up against the rubble if she kept retreating. Her rosarius was ready to defend her, if only for a very brief moment, she just had to stay alive long enough. With decades, even centuries, of experience dividing them she knew she was no match in a fair fight, so she would just have to use other methods. As Kathal began another sweeping attack she began to activate various auxiliary weapons hidden on her person. A mini flamer erupted from her outstretched hand forcing the Space Marine to halt his attack. As she reversed his charge she activated an ancient digital weapon that shot bolts of pure energy, a few of the shots actually striking him. A quick command and the jump boots she wore ignited and launched her forward into Kathal. Surprised, he tried to push her off but the inertia from her jets was too strong. As she rammed into him her rosarius signaled and she grinned in savage triumph. The moment Kathal found his balance he slashed at her as quickly and cunningly as he could. She let the swords get within inches of her, so close he couldn't back out of his attack, and then she triggered her secret weapon. A field of light enveloped her and the strikes that should have cut her in half were turned aside. At the same moment she stabbed straight for Kathal's chest in what promised to be the final blow. Erstol drew in his breath as he saw the move and knew his friend was about to fall, nothing could block that perfect counter, except for Kathal's foot. Sweeping it in an arc his right foot knocked the sword out of her grasp spinning to the ground. As he did so he reversed his chainswords and struck at the shielding with the blunt, shielded end of the blade at a frantic tempo. The light dimmed and then finally dissipated and at last Kathal's blows smashed into the Inquisitor, each blow was accompanied by a snarled word. "YOU….KILLED…..MY….FRIENDS..YOU…..BETRAYED…..MY…CHAPTER….AND…NOW…..YOU…WILL ….PAY!"

With a final almighty blow he knocked the Inquisitor twenty feet back into the cliff side. The last thing she saw before she fell into unconsciousness was the Space Marines binding her hands and carrying her and into the darkness.

The death of the Inquisitor and their Canoness changed the battle for the Sisters of Battle. Panic began to set in as the Sons pushed them harder and harder. Some of the lower level commanders began to rally the Sisters in to several tight groups. Like islands the sisters tried to weather the hurricane of fire that the Sons maintained. While his troops held the line Kathal used Pietas' vox communicator to get in touch with the fortress and the Lex Talionis. Oedvi promised that reinforcements would be arriving momentarily. For his part Physo informed Katahl of his desire to launch an orbital strike immediately followed by a drop pod assault using the thirty marines stationed on the battle barge. "All you have to do is pull back and I will rain down death on their positions first captain." Kathal scanned the battlefield, while the Sons had gained a temporary advantage the Sisters would soon recover and with superior numbers the Sons would be lost. "Alright Physo, tactical strike authorized."

"With pleasure Captain."

With a quick signal Kathal and the Sons quickly pulled their forces as far away from the sisters. The women never knew what hit them. Pillars of fire blasted through the clouds to land on the tight formations that the sisters had been pushed into. Such was the intensity of the beams fired from the Lex Talionis that anything caught in their path instantly vanished, utterly atomized.

Quick on the heels of the devastating barrage came three streaking meteors of steel. The drop pods landed with a crash and battle-plated marines quickly fanned out to cover the survivors of the lance strike. From the other end of the hollow came another detachment of marines equipped with jump packs. With a roar they launched themselves at any sisters that still had the will to fight. Most of the attacking force had been immolated and the few remaining were quickly disarmed and bound. Along with the assault forces came the heavily robed figure of Oedvi. He moved to join Kathal who was supervising the gathering of prisoners. Kathal spoke without turning to look at Oedvi .

"He's dead isn't he, Chapter Master Draak."

Oedvi nodded solemnly

"He died fighting one of the Inquisitor's assassins, I saw to the murderer's demise personally. You are now officially our Chapter Master."

"Not how I had expected it to happen. It is a shame, Draak was a true warrior and deserved better than to die under an assassin's blade." He turned to walk away and caught a glimpse of Oedvi for the first time. His eyes narrowed to slits.

"Brother, what has happened to you? What have you done?"

The robe fell from Oedvi's shoulders revealing his new appearance and the brands on his skin.

"I made a choice, one that we all must make. HE saved me and HE will save us all." The Librarian emphasized the HE by tapping the symbol. If he had been carved out of stone Kathal couldn't have been more still. When he finally spoke his voice was a choked whisper.

"MALICE saved you? MALICE actually spoke to you?"

"He spoke to me Kathal, he has a new path for us to walk. He gave knowledge of a ritual for communication and bade us assemble and hear his offer "

Kathal still stood as if inanimate for several long moments before slowly nodding.

"Alright, we have little to lose and possibly much to gain from His assistance. We would be fools to spurn our protector and provider when he chooses to speak to us. prepare the ritual while I deal with the captives."

"Actually let me deal with them Kathal, they are the key component of the ritual..."

In the darkness of the forest, at the heart of the Sons battle with the Sisters of Battle from the Tears of the Emperor convent, the prisoners of the battle were gathered. Most prayed and begged the Emperor for forgiveness, some few broke and cried, but all looked on with fear to see what the Sons of Malice would do next. The remainder of the chapter stood silently in a ring around the unfortunate sisters, no movement or word indicating their intentions. After a time a small group appeared in their midst, the three company captains and a heavily cloaked figure following them. At the front marched Kathal at last in his battle plate and to his left was Tovac. Erstol marched at his commander's right and had distained armor unlike his peers. The cloaked figure glided behind the captains, nothing on its person enough to identify it. As a group they moved forward and stood at last before Pietas who had been lashed in the center of the throng of prisoners.

Slowly Kathal drew his knife and at that signal the robed figure began to chant, its voice low and intense. Minutes passed, no one making a move, held in place by the dissonant syllables. The chanting rose to a scream and even as it did the remaining Sons of Malice moved forward as well, each drawing their combat knives. Energy flared violently from the cloaked figure and the sky crackled with red lightning. Raising his arms the cloak fell from what had once been human hands and as the winds whipped furiously the cowl fell from Oedvi's face. The tied Sisters gasped at the sight of him and struggled to free themselves. On his chest the twin symbols of Chaos seemed to writhe upon his skin with a life of their own. His screamed invocation finally reached its crescendo and as it did eleven bolts of lightning struck his outstretched hands. With a sweeping gesture he redirected it into the prisoners. At that exact moment the Space Marines struck, each blow an instant kill, and then quickly stepped back.

As the lightning struck the bodies flickered like candles in the wind. The blood floated up into the air to form a circle hovering directly over the bodies of the Sisters. For a moment it simply rotated in midair but slowly, at the very center of the circle, an image began to form. First a vision of the cold depths of space, stars burning dimly but no planets in sight. The vision began to move, faster and faster, speeding towards some unknown point. At the very edge of vision a tiny point appeared and grew quickly into a massive space hulk. Easily five or six times the size of the Lex Talionis it must have been built before the Great Crusade before such technology had been lost. Streaking through the hull as if it didn't exist the vision twisted and turned through an immense maze of passage ways and corridors until entering a grand hall that could have easily held two entire chapters of Space Marines on parade. At the far end of the hall there were eleven coffins, open and unoccupied, and ringed in a circle around a sarcophagus that was several times the size of the other coffins. On the sarcophagus there was a carving of a man-like being, body like that of any human or Astartes but where there should have been a head instead there was a skull, half ebony, half ivory. The skull's teeth were long and feral and the eye sockets seemed to glow darkly. Around that head, surrounding it like a nimbus or a halo, was the eight point star of Chaos, the same image burned into Oedvi's skin.

As the assembled Sons watched this spectacle a cool, strong voice projected itself into their minds. "MY sons…..you realize your fate at last…from the moment of your founding you were marked for me…though you did not know it every step you have taken only led you to me…you are betrayed by your "Emperor" and his lackeys…..yet you are still at war with the rest of the universe…you will not last long…Either you will be hunted down by the Imperium…or you will fall and become the playthings of the Dark Gods….A fine choice….Chapter destroyed and legacy forgotten…or soulless pawns of the Primordial Annihilator…But there is another path….a more dangerous path than either before you….Bow to me…take the path you were always meant for….I am Malice, the Outcast God…Exiled from the warp by the Dark Gods….While they seek bloodshed and war, death and disease, knowledge and change, sensation and excess….I seek… BALANCE…The nature of Chaos is that it is the raw force of creation…The nature of Order is that it will decay and collapse…only in union…..only in eternal competition will the two find meaning…I am but the redresser of that balance…..This is your path my Sons….to balance the scales…To create Chaos in the Imperium's Order and in so doing strengthen them…to bind Chaos and give it purpose…These are the three paths you face…..Death….Damnation….or Deliverance….Choose."

All had heard these words but only one was meant to answer them. Kathal took one step forward and spoke. "I am Kathal, and my chapter stands ready to act. Tell us what must be done." A rolling chuckle seemed to fill the hollow and the image of the skull seemed to move in a mocking parody of real laughter. "Scatter throughout the stars, fight and destroy Chaos where ever you find it. My will shall be made know through your librarians and my Prophet. Go forth for a hundred years at a time, each band separate and independent. At the end of a hundred years you will all feel the call and it will lead you here….to my Labyrinth….a champion from each Company shall hear my voice and undertake the trials of the Labyrinth. Only one shall survive and fight his way to me. There the champions will rest until eleven are gathered. Once this is done I will be freed. I will lead you back to Scelus and we will reclaim it. On that day my sons….your hunger shall be sated…..forever. With that the vision faded leaving the Sons standing on the field of battle in the cold night air considering the path that the Outcast God had laid before them.

~Epilogue~

Aboard the Lex Talionis a figure stood in one of the many cabins reserved for Astartes. While wearing power armor like one of the Sons the armor the figure wore was over several thousand years old, the helmet a model unknown to any current Space Marine fighting force. The figure stood completely still, statue like, and a passing serf might have mistaken it for power armor on a stand holding it upright. Slowly a change began to creep over the armor, reshaping it, molding it into generic Mark V power armor with the color and livery of the Sons of Malice. The change completed the figure moved out into the corridor and marched to join the assembled Sons of Malice for scheduled weapons practice. As he reached the training room he was stopped by Captain Erstol. "It is good to see you again Brother Cerus, your unexpected recovery was glad news indeed." Brother "Cerus" bowed slightly and signed his thanks for his captain's kind words. Erstol nodded "I had forgotten that the extent of your injuries has rendered you mute. Please continue to your weapons practice, I fear we shall be faced with much battle soon." Cerus bowed again and moved off towards a sparring servitor. Underneath the powerful illusion that had recreated the form of Brother Cerus and altered the Sons collective memories to make them believe he was still alive the imposter smiled, everything was still going exactly as planned.