Chapter 2
"Man, Machine, Abomination"
Far above the lonely planet, a small inquisition ship drifted almost invisibly. Slowly the planet's surface crackled with fire from the raging war below, but in space there are no atoms to vibrate to generate sound. The Inquisitor watched his monitor closely as the fire looked almost peaceful and relaxing with nothing audible. Thrax sighed, "How petty." He thought to himself silently, resting his head on his hand, bored.
He pressed a button on his control panel, bringing up a view screen of his lead engineer on the ship. The servitor looked up from his task, ready to follow orders. "Release Cyclone." Thrax ordered loudly. The servitor nodded and pressed a button, opening the back hatch of the ship. A single coffin shaped object with no obvious markings or glass to reveal what was inside rested silently in the cargo bay. The object slid as the depressurization began to suck at it. The object finally slipped out of the ship and began to plummet towards the war torn surface of Titanicus. Thrax righted himself and began entering coordinates for Terra, his objective complete for now. "Poor fools have no idea what's coming." Thrax sighed in honest pity as the comet looking coffin began the burn in the atmosphere.
Strazon looked upon the surface of this planet indifferently. The entire visible surface was covered in a sprawling city on the horizon. The cave Strazon just exited being the only patch of green wildlife he could see from his position on the mountains side. He looked around at all the life. "What happened to this place?" Strazon pondered. He knew the planet was lifeless and desolate when he was here last. Then again he had no idea how long it had been since he last saw the planet. Not being a deep thinker, Strazon focused on the city. The city was covered in smoke and fire. "War." Strazon could practically sense it. War was all Strazon had known for as long as he could remember, even before he was incarcerated in iron. He slowly remembered being a soldier of flesh, but still images of anything before iron and steel eluded him. He grumbled to himself in his mechanical voice as he set off towards the city. A small meteor appeared in his vision, causing his vision assisters to focus on it as a potential threat. The trajectory was calculated and its landing zone was well within the city, so it was no direct threat to him. "How odd, a meteor right during a war? The odds are minuscule." Strazon uttered in his toneless mechanical voice. He just remembered he could speak after he uttered the words. Not much of a surprise, more of a quick realization of one's abilities. He continued down the hill quickly, determined to find out what brought him back, or who.
Miles away a dark figure watched a computer screen as a Necron Immortal jogged down a large mountain. The figure reached a dark metal hand out of its cloak and pressed a button, cutting the screen off. The figure turned away and headed into the darkness of its own cave.
"Ha! where's your Emperor now you imperial fraks?" A large flak jacket covered man yelled. He fired a few more lasgun shots at the fleeing loyalists, missing all of them. His squad had managed to take a small factory on the outside of the city, but every gain counts. He sneered, a few teeth missing in his evil grin. Suddenly the ceiling screamed as metal bent and broke under pressure. The large rebel looked up just in time to see a large crate head right for him. His squad gasped as his body vanished under what looked like a metal coffin. A small blood splatter was all that was left of their fearless leader. They raised their rifles at the crate as it began to creak and groan.
OBJECTIVE: Total elimination of rebellion leaders. *Value level Red*
TASKED: Eversor 8467-E *Clover*
ADDED NOTES: Inquisitor Thrax: Let none stand in your way. Your objective is clear we cannot lose Titanicus. Its production value is too great. Eliminate everyone who poses a threat. Emperors light guide and protect.
*End Briefing*
Inside the coffin the fair skinned human groaned as her injection sights were probed again with the all too familiar narcotics of various colors and stengths. Her eyes flew open with the sudden jolt of adrenaline. The mission prep was burned into her vision, as she almost like a dog on the hunt committed it to memory. Her prison quaked as a few nozzles appeared over her nude body and began to spray a black liquid. The liquid formed over her body and connected and smoothed over on its own. Her helmet was slid down over her face; she was now the very face of death and despair. The rest of her gear, the armor, the pack, the clips and survival gear were strapped on to her by the encasing. She grinned happily as her prison depressurized and opened up.
Around the entrance stood five terrified men all brandishing standard lasguns, they stood no chance. Her fingers slipped into her gauntlet and around her Exitus pistol. The startled rebels barely had time to give orders before the female assassin was upon them. She leaped from the coffin, reaching almost 7-8 feet in the air before landing on the closest man. He screamed just in time for her clawed fingers to draw four red lines across his neck, silencing him forever. The remaining four yelled and opened fire, their terrified hands barely able to keep their aim straight. One soldier fired a shot so poorly aimed it went straight into the ground, not ten feet from him. Clover smiled behind her skull mask and lunged, burying her gauntlet into the torso of a larger cultist, his gun discharging into the ground as he was lifted into the air. Clover's drugs flowed into her, giving her the strength to lift a tank if needed. She kicked the dying man off her hand, sending him flying through the air and into the concrete wall, cracking it under the force. The assassin's suit dripped with blood as the waterproof material kept anything from seeping in. Clover rolled her fingers, clicking the blades of her gauntlet together. The remaining men continued to fire again and again, but miss horribly. The Eversor waited patiently, not moving as her drugs swapped tubes to give her speed over strength.
"Damnit, shoot this bitch!" the remaining leadership of the squad commanded, as he fired one shot square at her chest. Clover smiled and leapt into the air, flipping and landing just as the lasblast ended. She looked up and the man's eyes widened in terror. Before he could fire again, Clover was upon him. Her blades protruded from his back as she disrupted as many internal organs as she could. He coughed blood onto her shoulder as she pulled her blades out. The man fell onto his back, dead, some pieces of his flesh still clung to the blades. The last two turned to run, only to find the doorway blocked by a massive, black, metal creature. One soldier foolishly pulled back his fist and hit the creatures chest hard, only to break his hand under the force.
"Gah! My fraking hand!" he yelled as he fell to his knees, griping his odd angled fist. The iron warrior brought back his hand and backhanded the cultist, sending blood splattering across the room along with bits of skull. The remaining cultist, stuck between two of what he could only describe as Death incarnates, pulled out a totem to the chaos gods. "For Slaanesh!" he cried in a crazed tone. He raised his hand and shattered the icon, which emitted a pink and purple mist from the bits. The cultist screamed as his body warped, as if something was growing inside his skin. He choked as his flesh began to split, leaking a purple fluid from the separations. Suddenly he violently exploded, sending the remnants of his flesh scorching with a purple flame across the room. What was left horrified even the fearless iron warrior.
"What a strange predicament…" a deep articulate voice came from the purple shrouded creature. "Two machines of death, come together for no reason?" the mist faded and what remained looked to Strazon like a cross between a Tyranid, and an Eldar. The creature had armored plates on its arms and legs, but its torso looked exposed and unprotected. The creature had one grotesque mammary gland on one side of its chest, and what looked like a organic pectoral muscle where the other mammary gland should have been. "Did you wake me?" Strazon asked, as he bent down and picked up the awkwardly small human rifle in his hand. His hand to large for the finger guard, simply crushed the object away from the trigger.
The Eversor grinned, "Good more of a challenge foul creature!" She interrupted the daemons response. Her accent was ancient; the Daemon had not heard a human speak with such a tone in centuries. No matter how intrigued it was it ignored the human and turned to the real reason why it obliged the cultist request to be here; the strange, out of place immortal. "No I did not. Strange, however, your kind rarely speaks, and when it does it never speaks to warp spawn, why are you different?" the large daemon asked in a sly tone, with a massive sneer on its flawless face.
The Daemon suddenly felt a sharp pain in its back, and turned to find the human female clawing away at her hind side. "How cute. Go about your mission petty creature." The large Daemon raised its arm up and backhanded the drug experiment across the blood soaked floor. As the creature moved it suddenly felt an even more intense pain in its neck, turning its head to find the man of iron had jammed the gun into the Daemon's chest. The weapon discharged, creating a crater in the Daemons back, in front of where the gun discharged. "Wha-"the large abomination groaned. Strazon withdrew the barrel of the rifle from the creature and cranked back the gun, landing the butt powerfully against the Warp spawn's head, with a resounding crack. Much to Starzon's dismay, the strength of the impact cracked the gun in hid grip, rendering it useless. In an instant the creature burst into flames and vanished, leaving the two killing machines alone in the dark dingy factory room. "Wait-"Strazon said, just as the assassin leapt at him.
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