Hi and welcome to my first story on fanfic. Here is a bit about my story so if you want to skip to the action then you dont have to read this. This story is about the Relictors chapter and thier adventures. Here is a bit about them;
These bad-boys were founded in the 36th milenium, created as one of the twenty chapters guarding the eye of terror. Now they are excumminicatus (please tell me if I spelt that wrong, thanks) for using chaos weapons in thier quest to defend humanity, but they arent traitoris.
The inquisition, noting thier activities despatched Inquisitor Cyarro to wipe them out along with a Grey Knight Brother-Captain. They Destroyed the Star-Fort and only a few hundred Relictors escaped.
The Relictors still use weapons of the enemy and now this is where my story comes in.
The Relictors fled to a system just outside the halo stars thinking the Imperium has given them the title of traitoris and have lost almost all contact with the Imperium, and they named the planet they setteled on Bardane, after thier chapter master Artekus Bardane. This planet is also home to human tribes, whom they now use to recruit new members. Now 160 years after Cyarro's purge the chapter has returned to full strength and is now nearly twice as powerfull as before, (as they havnt taken part in many wars since) and is now holding one thousand seven hundred members. They have now diverted even further from the Codex Astartes and Artekus has a vision of making his chapter into a legion! But now Artekus has gone missing without trace, and Warboss Grashnar has attacked with a small but formidible ork waaagh! that is more than enough for the chapter to handle. The warboss has somehow managed to get his greenskin hands on an unidentified daemon-weapon of incalcuable power. Young captain Signandus has been elected chapter master until they find Artekus... if they do...
(Author's note): Im probably not going to include many non-fighting scenes but if you think it needs more just include it in your review and I will see what I can do.
Ok, now thats over sit back and enjoy the story and I hope it didnt put you off ; ).
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The Terminators tenced at the violent shuddering of the stormbird as it connected with the gigantic steel form of the ork command ship, formely a magnificent Astartes battle barge.
The newly promoted Terminator-Sergeant Katanen drew his broad-bladed sword from its gold trimmed leather scabberd and examined it's shining mettalic surface, it's blade reflected the white and gold helm he was wearing perfectly. It's hilt was forged with brass, the hand guard was formed in the shape of an imperial eagle and adorning the end of the hand grip was a small golden skull. The sword from top to bottom was nearly as tall as a normal person. Such a large and powerfull weapon could only be used by a space marine. He thumbed the activation rune on it's guard and the gleaming blade was suddenly surrounded in a leathal energy field, capable of cutting through almost anything.
He turned to his fellow terminators.
"Fellow space marines! Another mission, and another victory in the making! The Emporer watches over us this day, and armours our souls with his grace, and aids us with his strength to purge the Xenos scum and the heretic alike.
The metre thick blast doors opened and he pointed his power sword into the hordes of ork warriors waiting for them."So let us return the favour, with faith!"
Katanen and his terminators lumbered forward like unstopable behemoths, storm bolters blazing, each bolt finding home and knocking orks from thier feet. The orks' answering fire pattered feebley from thier impenatrable grey terminator armour.
Within seconds the corroded iron corridor was littered with the corpses of the greenskin dead and not a single terminator had fallen.
The terminators ploughed through the orks in the confined corridors, easily beating back the wavering ork mobs sent to defend the ship.
Katanen had been sent to secure an unidentified daemon weapon the warboss Greshnark had captured and, to kill the warboss himself. Where exaclty the warboss was, they didnt know, but they knew he was somewhere on this ship but what mattered the most was that they got the daemon weapon back to the fortress monastery as quickly as possible, as the damage the ork could do with it was incalculable.
Three other squads of terminators, had borded the gigantic looted battle-barge in search for the boss. This whole operation was lead by Codicer Vortigern and Katanen maintained contact with all of them.
Katanen gunned down another ork, then advanced through a large gold-lined archway, the once magnificent imperial decorations were now covered in ork trophies. This place was massive. There were about twenty fight cages, and right in the center was a gladatorial ring, the weapon rack long since salvaged by the orks. These were the once magnificent training halls. Katanen's eyes where fixed on a statue of the emporer, undoubtedly where brave warriors saught his greatness's blessings before a fight. The statue was now grefeated, and orks had drawn childish pointy looking beards on the Emporer's perfect features and orkish words covered all the rest of the golden statue. Katanen howled in anger at such sacralige.
The orks had re-grouped here and immeadiately counter-attacked. The terminators quickly opened fire, and more orks fell, but there were too many too close, and the firelight was instantly plunged into bloody melee.
The training hall rang with the howling of dyeing orks, who were flung metres through the air by the power-fisted terminators.
Katanen slashed his sword through one of the greenskins, blood spraying over his armour. Another came chargeing at him with it's vile axe raised over it's head, it was immeadiatley thrown onto it's back three smoking holes in it's chest, blood pouring out of each hole. He parried the heavy blow of another choppa then hit the ork over the head with his storm bolter, as it staggered back he fired, and it's head exploded in a fountain of blood.
"Come in, Sergeant Katanen do you copy?" Came a crackling voice from his vox
"Yes Librarian?" replied Katanen, he slung the storm bolter over his armoured sholders and took his sword in a two handed grip and drove it through the back of a gigantic greenskin beating back one of his own brethren, Brother Kardon.
"I had him you know!" said Kardon indignantly.
"Hardly, that is the second time I saved your skin!" laughed Katanen, briefly forgetting the defaced Emporer statue.
"We have found the warboss Sergeant" Came the librarian's voice " He has the daemon weapon and is using it against us and we need reinforcing. Move in on our position"
"We are a bit tied up, but we will reinforce as soon as possible" Katanen then voxed into his squad. "Our brother Vortigern has found the warboss but is being beaten back. We must give our position to these orks and converge on his position, understood?"
A smatter of mingled replies and groans came from the vox, they didnt want to go and Katanen didnt blame them. They wanted to punish the orks for defacing a statue to his greatness. But his order was obeyed instantl and the fell back.
Durian, Chapter Champion of the Relictors slowly drew his ornate, gold tassled champion's sword from the expensive leather scaberd at his hip, the alien runes inscribed on it glowed faintly as he lifted the xeno-blade high above his head. A faint breeze blew from the south disturbing the scarlet cloak clipped to his gold-trimmed shoulder guards. A gigantic cream robed figure slowly walked past, Chaplain Galatain standing oposite Durian was holding aloft his golden crozius arcarnum, his expressionless white skull mask cast to shadow by the maroon hooded robes he always wore over his artificer armour.
The robed figure walked up a flight of stairs onto a platform with a huge banner of the Relictors chapter icon, a side view of a laughing skull on a black background.
In the middle of the stage was a weary looking servitor with three arms, next to it was a rack holding a magnificent suit of golden artificer armour which gleamed in the setting afternoon sun. At the foot of the rack was an ancient looking chest, but everyone knew what was in it.
Once the figure reached the centre of the stage, it lowered the hood to reveal a young, handsome face with emerald green eyes. He had short black hair, and the albino skin that was the trait of many Relictors who had recieved the geneseed.
Durian sheathed his sword and watched as the figure cast off his robes. Underneath he wore a light, grey jumpsuit that was stetched tight over his muscular form. This was Signandus, the new elected chapter master of the Relictors. Artekus Bardane, the chapter's most fearce warrior and chapter master had mysteriously vanished, and Signandus had been elected to rule over the Relictors until the chapter master was found.
Signandus was far too young to be a chapter master Durian thought, there were older sergeants. Yet almost everyone else thought differently, and he had wondered why chief Librarian Santerus had chosen Signandus. But still, Durian thought, he supposed Santerus had his reasons. Anyway why shouldnt he be chapter master? The thought of such power at his fingertips made him smile as the ceramony of the chapter master began.
Vortigern threw himself to one side as a mutated burna-boy bathed the spot he was in a micro-second ago in yellowy flames. He fired his bolt pistol at the ork and it's head exploded in a fountain of reddish gore.
The warboss himself stood on the speaking-stage shouting at his nobz to figh harder in it's own barbaric tongue. The warboss himself was horribly mutated, and stood about 17 feet tall and heald a huge double bladed axe which glowed with inner-power that could only be the daemon imprisoned inside it.
Vortigern saw one of his terminators brake through the fighting and lumber slowly up towards the warboss, storm bolter blazing. Sparks flew from the warboss's mega armour but the gigantic greenskin did not fall. He downed the terminator with one swift chop his axe and laughed cruelly as he fired his big shoota into the combat.
Vortigern's attention returned to the combat as another ork came charging towards him, choppa raised. He raised his force-staff to parry the blow, kicked the ork in the stomach then spun round as the imperial eagle on the top of his staff clove through the ork's neck. He ran at another and drove his staff through the ork's belly, took hold of it's head and ripped it off the neck and tossed it as a challenge to a large ork no that was nearly as tall as the warboss.
He holstered his pistol and charged. The huge nob cut at him from the side and vortigern parried, he reversed the staff and pushed it forward. But the greenskin caught it with it's callaused hands just inches away from it's face, and pulled it free from Vortigerns armoured grip and tossed it away. He raised his choppa overhead to strike again, as it came down Vortigern leapt back and easily dodgeing it.
Vortigern spun round in a blindingly fast wheel kick which almost broke the orks arm. But the ork gave no sign of pain. It caught the punch Vortigern threw at him that would have crushed a normal man's skull and pushed the fist back into the librarian's own face. The ork laughed cruely and picked up the librarian with effortless strength and threw him against the wall.
Enough of this he thought, that had been a foolish mistake. The librarian stretched out his palms and the incalculable power of the sea of souls coursed through his fingers. As the ork borught the huge choopa back for the killing blow there was suddenly a blinding flash of blueish light and the ork fell to the floor, a huge hole in it's chest. Vortigern nodded satisfied, and the force staff lying on the floor flew into his outstretched hands.
The orks, strugeling to understand what they had just seen broke and fled. The remains of the two terminator squads began to fire on the warboss, who charged into thier line and butchered them all in a mad pool of blood.
Vortigern dived out of the way, but the terminators werent fast enough, and they all fell like child's playthings to the might of the chaos fuelled warboss.
It then turned to face him. At once, powerfull warp lightning leapt from Vortigern's gauntlet and arched towards the warboss, but the daemon weapon glowed suddenly with an obscene pinkish light and the lightning dissapated just before impact. The warboss gave a harsh laugh, which boomed around the hall.
It opened it mouth, and with a strained look on it's face as it tried to speak the high gothic tongue.
"You powurs, dont ffect mee hoomie. You die now"
At that moment, the other orks began returning. But the warboss said something in his own tongue to the orks who stopped and formed a semi-circle around the two individuals.
Oh, thought Vortigern, this is going to be bad.
The orks were chanting and screaming orkish insults at Vortigern and encouragments to the warboss, who was taking in all the support waving his axe around and smashed the bottom end of the axe into the corroded iron floor, somehow denting the metres thick hull.
He closed his eyes and touched two fingers to his forehead. His thoughts stretched beyond normal consciousness and into the immaterium. He let the power of thewarp flow through his veins and into his powerfull muscles. He opened his eyes to see the warboos waiting for him, an evil grin on it's massive face. Vortigern felt as light as a feather and a feeling of invinsibility reached his thoughts. He fealt he could accomplish anything, leap over the highest mountain or lift the biggest rock.
He crouched, then leapt. He was carried over 30 feet through the air, a snarl of bloodlust escaping his lips his thoughts full of avenging his terminators. Both his feet hammered into the warboss, cracking the mega armour. The warboss staggered but quickly recovered, bringing his axe round to parry Vortigern's staff.
Vortigern cut left and right with incredible speed, but still the orks parried his blows with relative ease. He dropped down low his force staff arched towards the lower part of the warboss's legs. Amazingly, for such a massive and heavily armoured creature, the ork leapt above the stike and brought it's axe down upon him. Vortigern threw up his staff to block the blow and fealt shockwaves pass up his arm at the sheer strength of the warboss's attack. His was thrown on his back and the orks' chants got louder and more exited. The warboss bored down upon Vortigern.
It's head was inches from his, in it's firey red eyes was the promise of death and Vortigern new he couldnt hold out much longer. He spat in the ork's face, both as a gesture of contempt and to distract him so he could get out of such an awkward position. The highly acidic spittle caught the warboss in the eye, and the ork reared up howling. Vortigern leapt up and ducked under the flailing chop of the ork's daemonic axe. He swung his force weapon in an upward arc, cleaving through the orks left hand which currently held the axe, drawing a howl of pain and hatred from the warboss as the axe clattered to the floor.
The ork picked up the librarian and threw him into the croud of orks. Vortigern rose but he was met with a choppa in the face and he fell back down, blood pouring from the deep gash in his head all over his ornate blue armour.
Katanen's crooked teeth were grinding together in anger and his breathing was ragged. He surveyed the carnege infront of him, 20 terminators and librarian Vortigern, some the emporer's finest warriors were lying amongst of dead greenskins.
He looked at the gigantic smurking warboss surrounded by the several surviving orks and let out a howl of bloodlust and rage.
"Men!" Katanen screamed, "Open fire! We will avenge our fallen brothers or die trying!"
Storm bolters fired and orks died, in seconds all that remained was the warboss, who was standing impervious to the bolter shells.
Katanen noticed that the warboss was missing a hand. He strode towards the warboss who laughed at the challenge.
"Magic oomie easy, you even easier" it grunted
"You will not get away with this ork. If I die, my terminators will kill you! There is no escape!"
He gave a silent prayer to the emporer and the warboss seemed to notice this. He laughed harder.
Katanen stalked right up to the huge ork and with a roar thrusted his sword at it's gut. The thrust was slapped aside with the but of the blastphamous axe. katanen immeadiately parried a counter thrust and cut to the ork's left, but this was parried as easily as the other blow.
The axe the ork weilded was far too big to be used effectivly with one hand. But still, the warboss was almost as fast as Katanen himself, and because of this Katanen could smell the ork's fear as he frantically tried to parry the blows Katanen threw. He just couldnt attack fast enough with one hand.
They dueled for at least three minutes in an enrapturing display of skill and cunning. But with only one hand the warboss couldnt use his daemonic axe as effectivly as he could have and that cost him.
The ork rained down slash after slash down on the terminator's defences, but Katanen parried them all, then he lashed out and put his whole weight behind an overhead cut which cleaved through the warboss other hand, the same stroke carried the energy sword right through the orks leg.
The combat ended with the warboss at his knees before the terminator armoured space marine to the cheers of the onlookers.
Katanen pulled off his white and gold helm. His face was hidiously mutilated and scarred from the Inquisitor Cyarro's power sword, where he had almost killed him. The left half of his face was metal, after his skull had been cut open. His expressionless red bionic eye stared blankly at the warboss, his remaining blue eye regarded the warboss tiumphantly.
He pointed to it.
"This is the last thing you will ever see in your pathetic life" Katanen hissed.
His sword cleaved through the warboss's overly muscled neck, and it's head fell to the floor. He stamped on the skull and was rewarded by the cracking of bone and the squelch of brains being compressed. He sheathed his sowrd and then leant down and picked up the daemonic axe. It fealt absurdly light for such a huge thing, yet it was still far too big and heavy for Katanen himself to weild.
"Check the bodies of Vortigern's men" he commanded, his voice expressionless.
He picked up his helm and turned on his heel to watc his men examine the dead.