Queen Of Darkness
Disclaimer: As usual, I do not own anything Warhammer 40,000 or Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha. I claim credit only for this crossover idea.
Also, I'll be honest; I'll be going on a trip soon, so I might not be able to proceed too far before I have to go on hold for a bit.
"A weak life that can't do anything is no different from an insect's. No matter how many you kill, more will just keep being born. Playing with them and abusing them, throwing them in a cage and watching them suffer... It's so much fun!" – Quattro, Combat Cyborg.
"Fetch me another plaything. This one seems to have broken" – Urien Rakarth, Master Haemonculus.
Location: Solitary Confinement prison satellite 'Joaquin', high orbit above uninhabited planet Espada, Arkham wing.
The silence of space permeated through to Quattro's cell, occasionally penetrated with the howl of madness of some inmates who can no longer withstand the isolation. Under normal circumstances, at any normal day, there would be no other ships permitted to enter the airspace of this area, with the exception of those of the Time Space Administration Bureau. Even then, it is only for the occasional interrogation or transport of prisoners.
By logic, nobody, no one sane, would have reason to want to approach this space station. For this prison contains the worse of Mid-Childa, the lowest of the low, the forsaken ones. These are the people who simply cannot function within society, people who are incurable psychopaths whose tendencies are far more threatening when combined with their intellect.
A prime example is Jail Scaglietti, who, in his zeal for science, went as far as to threaten the entire population of Mid-Childa with mass murder-or, if his ambitions are to be believed, massed experimentation. Or Quattro, one of his loyal assistants who is considered far worse by the prison guards of the facility; for indeed it must be a very black heart who is willing to turn a six year old girl against her own adopted mother.
It is on this prison satellite that these deluded persons, their sanity beyond help, are left to live out their lives in the near permanent solitude of their cells, barring the occasional interrogations. If one is inclined to say so, these individuals are left to rot. Even meals are simply pushed through the door. Who can complain? These individuals are not meant to be unleashed upon the universe-or, given the Time Space Administration Bureau's unique position, the multiverse-ever again.
It was strange, but expected, then, that Quattro would spend each day planning her escape. What better way to pass solitary time but with ones mind? Yet every time, the conclusion was foregone; suffice to say Quattro realised that every plan she has contrived so far has proven impossible. The prison guards refused to talk to her, leaving no opening; communication with Jail and the other numbers were impossible; the door to her cell, in defiance of her ECM skills, had several extra padlocks securing the door; the prison designers were smart enough to ensure that air vents cannot be climbed through…escape seemed hopeless.
On any normal day, that is. This will not be one of them.
Location: Solitary Confinement prison satellite 'Joaquin', high orbit above uninhabited planet Espada, Security and Communications Annex.
"Hey, are you reading this?"
The communications personnel of the prison satellite usually have a comparatively easier time then their prison security counterparts. The monitoring of communications was really nothing more than an official function; the truth was that escape was near impossible without external aid. This simply requires the communications personnel to be on guard and prevent ships with unidentified signatures from docking the space station. Authorised personnel, of course, were expected to give advance notice of their impending visit and have their credentials checked.
So currently, when the scanner indicates suspicious movement on the screen, Johann, our new communications personnel on the shift, had to double check with his partner.
"You mean the approaching irregularity at coordinates 15,60,49? No, you are not dreaming about that." Johann's partner, Schimdt, replied. "It is most likely a cloaked ship," he continued while flipping urgently through the day's flight manifest, "without proper identification or authorisation."
"Unidentified vessel, this is Control Tower of Prison Joaquin. You are entering restricted airspace. Turn away immediately or we will fire upon you. Repeat. Unidentified vessel, this is Control Tower of Prison Joaquin. You are entering restricted airspace…"
Location: Torture Class Cruiser Vivisection, Command Bridge
Lord Duriel of the Batarian Kabal was not pleased. Not pleased at all.
Only recently crowned Prince of Pain, he and his raiding party had departed from Commorragh, expecting to arrive at the war torn hunting grounds of Armageddon. Their intention was to capture the innumerable war hardened Orks, Space Marines, and even Imperial Guardsmen who they happened to come across; there was a recent surge in demand for experience fighters. The more they bring in, the more powerful and influential Duriel becomes. Failing that, the hive cities are essentially treasure doves of Mon Keigh asking to be enslaved and liberated from their pitiful understanding of life. Duriel had particularly enjoyed tormenting the females; somehow the female Mon Keigh's screams of resistance are usually the most exotic to his ears, and the broken soul of a fragile innocence was like fine wine compared to the tasteless water of other normal souls he had consumed.
Intentions count for nothing when your plans fail. For whatever reason, one of the Warriors decided to kill Duriel's most experienced navigators for some grudge or another. What is acceptable is killing someone because of a grudge or a power struggle. What was not was the fact that this costs Duriel, and his entire raiding band, the potentials of Armageddon because there were no replacement crews.
Of course, Lord Duriel was not without mercy. The Warrior was only following their code; one which even Lord Duriel honours. So, instead of condemning the poor Warrior's soul to Slaanesh, Lord Duriel saw it fit to defer the details of the punishment to his Haemonculus, Vayshan.
To make matters worse, a space anomaly disrupted their travel as they attempted to guess their way to Armageddon. Lord Duriel was sure that there was an explanation, but that matters not; right now, he can finally see a planet.
The scanner operator's blood and brain splattered messily over the screen when it was discovered that only the orbiting satellite had any signs of life. Sighing, Lord Duriel decided to make the best of a worst situation. Within seconds, the Vivisection and all 12 of its Corsair Class escorts were blazing full speed towards the prison station with their shadowfields active.
Location: Solitary Confinement prison satellite 'Joaquin', high orbit above uninhabited planet Espada, Security and Communications Annex.
Johann and Schimdt, the pair of communication officers, grew increasingly nervous as their looping message resonated and repeated without incurring any response. They had already raised full alert within the prison itself, and even now Johann was in the middle of going through with a distress message.
"This is Control Tower Joaquin to call-sign Watchtower. This is Control Tower Joaquin to call-sign Watchtower. We are expecting an imminent attack-"
Ironically enough, on that exact sentence, all hell broke loose.
Location: Space, high orbit above uninhabited planet Espada.
Lord Duriel may be sadistic, impatient, cruel, or any matter of words which one uses to describe a complete villain. Yet he was also observant, and it was these observations that propelled him to being the Prince of Pain. For example, he noticed that the majority of his favoured prey-Mon Keigh, Tau, Orks, Space Marines-all shared a unique weakness; as long as there is communications to be had, they would stick a great big metal dish around it. For all the good which it does, they might as well have painted a huge 'shoot me' sign around the thing.
This explains why our communications officers Johann and Schimdt soon found themselves suffocating in cold space. The Security and Communications Annex was torn apart by a barrage of torpedoes; this, in effect, prevented the Time Space Administration Bureau Fleet from even receiving the distress signal. Sure, at some point Fate Testarossa will finally see the devastation wrought upon the prison from her observation office, but by then the Dark Eldar will be long gone.
Next to go were the defences of the Joaquin prison. In all honesty, Dark Eldar ships sacrifice durability for speed, and the point defence guns of Prison Joaquin should have been sufficient to gun down the intruders under optimal conditions. However, with the Security and Communications Annex obliterated, the point defence guns defaulted to inflexible and sluggish automated control; no match for the superior piloting skills of the Dark Eldar Razorwing bombers and Raptor fighters.
Supposedly the high security pride of the Time Space Administration Bureau, within a matter of minutes Prison Joaquin was rendered deaf, blind and mute, incapable of resistance.
Only then did the Slavebringer assault boats, loaded with soul hungry Warriors and Wyches, slam into the station.
Location: Solitary Confinement prison satellite 'Joaquin', high orbit above uninhabited planet Espada, Alcatraz wing.
The assault was swift, efficient, brutal and merciless. The security officers did well enough to live up to their training, but ultimately they were defeated. Slow death by painful poison, sudden death by artery disconnection, obliteration by dark particles and decomposition by acid…these were the fortunate ones. The unfortunate ones were dragged off-their psychic senses undoubtedly adding another layer of appeal to the Dark Eldar. Lord Duriel even saw to it himself that he had a healthy supply of females to last him for the return journey. Perhaps, on a personal level, this was going to turn out better than he expected.
Several layers below, at Arkham wing, unlike many of the guards or fellow prisoners who lay headless for their attempts to resist, Quattro saw that her best chances of survival was to follow the Warriors' demands to be a prisoner of another master. She was aware enough of the obscenities of these invaders, but when you are a Combat Cyborg with several degrees more durability than an average human, coupled with the experience of Jail impregnating himself within her body, surrendering to the Dark Eldar in a bid for future escape is comparatively not as suicidal.
If anything, though, she has taken a liking to the Dark Eldar's attitude on other lives based on what she deduces from the destruction around her.
Of course, luck plays a part in these things. The Dark Eldar Warriors made another mistake; in lining up their prisoners, they placed Jail Scaglietti right next to Quattro. In typical villain efficiency, Quattro soon found within her hands something Jail Scaglietti had promised since the days before the Jail Scaglietti incident; an upgrade data chip containing the operative parameters of Due, allowing her to follow in the footsteps of her idol.
So it was that the stage is set for the great terror that will later descend upon the unfortunate masses of Mid-Childa…
Authors' notes: After barely surviving a serious storm of essays, course works and exams, I find myself re-watching the StrikersS season. Particularly, Quattro caught my attention-her tendency to diminish opposition, disrespect for life, interests in inhumane experiments and manipulation of Vivio all seemed familiar. Too familiar, because it is exactly what the Dark Eldar does. Heck, even her abilities are well suited to enhancing the Dark Eldar's modus operandi.
Then an even worse idea struck me. Heavens forbid-what would it mean for Mid Childa if, by some cruel twist, Quattro becomes the leader of a Dark Eldar cabal?
On the other hand, though, this prologue is just to flex my mind a little-I still have not decided whether to do a drastic time jump or actually attempt to depict/justify Quattro's rise to power in detail.
Last but not least-please leave review.