The automatic doors before the power lift hissed open, revealing the empty antechamber ahead of Lord Malek and his honor guard. He raised an auspex in his right hand, taking a reading of the corridors outside the antechamber. Giving a silent gesture with the auspex, Malek took point and led his men through the door.
Swinging his auspex to the left, then the right, he waited on the displayed results. A blip was revealed inside the room to his left. Unfortunately, the room was a machining shop for the tech-priests; the blip would be behind several multi-ton machines.
When the auspex slipped to his right, it revealed several blips inside the room just ahead of them. It also indicated that the 'blips' were almost directly behind the door. Another gesture and the group proceeded forward in that direction; weapons were readied and Malek slipped the auspex away. The door hissed open just as he drew the Masters of War, revealing a fleshy amalgamation of tentacles, claws, and sharp edges. The smell of rotting flesh exploded through the open door, as well as the additional scent of machine oils and lubrication.
Trained vollys of bolter fire exploded from the eight pistols amongst the honor guard, wizzing by their lord to bounce off the chaos spawned monster's hide. Several of the rebounding rounds thudded into the unmoving pieces of servitors strewn inside. One bolt sparked off a bench and exploded into the ceiling, shutting down the lights.
Before the chaos spawned monstrosity could react to the pain of impacts, the honor guard raised their weapons. At the point of the group, Malek leapt forward with blades at the ready. His honor guard were quick on their feet and charged in right behind, sharing the rage of their master for this mutated beast. Before the wretch had time to respond, it was cut down, and Lord Malek charged passed without being slowed.
Behind the chaos spawn, just past a bench of tools, were a group of daemons. Malek lept onto the bench itself and pushed off, veritably flying into the surprised daemons with a roar.
--
"I repeat, we are under concentrated/supressive fire." Captain Taq shouted into the vox-caster of his helmet. He paused long enough to raise his storm bolter over the barricade and snap off a quick burst. The return fire of several heavy stubbers spanged into the metal in response, and he dropped his weapon back to his side.
"Sepulchre, can you read me? This is Captain Taq of the Justicar's first squad. We are under heavy suppressive fire."
A burst of static was his only reply, the powerful warp energy permeating the ship was distorting communications. Taq was kicking himself for not having seen this ambush coming; the Justicars had barely left the main engineering bay before a wave of firepower blasted into them.
"Grandmaster, are you receiving?"
"Captain!" One of the Justicars at his side hissed after looking over the barricade. "Large mutants, my ten, coming this way."
"On my mark." Taq nodded in reply. "Concentrated volleys!"
"Mark!" Captain Taq and the nine other terminators stood to their feet, moving as one to point their weapons towards the encroaching mutants. "Fire!"
He heard, rather than saw, as the assault cannons began firing. They drowned out the rapport of the storm bolters, and the sheer mass of fire was always impressive to him. Captain Taq watched in horror as their concentrated barrage only tore apart a pair of the giant mutants. The rest were still charging and now brandished scavenged weapons.
--
The daemons, known as Tzeentchian horrors, were unable to respond quickly to the assault. Fire blossomed at their ever-gaping mouths, ready to shoot into the Astartes. There was never a chance, though, as Malek slammed into the group of daemons. Several were knocked sprawling, and they were lucky enough to survive his blades.
Those within reach, however, were not so fortunate. Precise cuts removed limbs from joints, and heads from fleshy masses. As the Templar's Grandmaster finished his first attack, his honor guard charged into the daemons. Confused and overwhelmed, the horrors 'died' swiftly and without the chance for retaliation.
Turning at the sound of open doors, the Templar prepared for another assault. They were not prepared for the shrill screeching that seemed to penetrate their helmets. Heads swimming with unblockable agony, they were unable to meet the new daemons' charge.
Achingly attractive females suddenly filled the sights of the Astartes, brandishing claws and talons were hands should have been. The Templar were forced to dodge and weave around the attacks as their heads swam. After a few seconds of being completely on the defensive, the Lyman's Ear implant was able to begin filtering the screech. Finally, the Templar were able to orient themselves and strike back.
The ten Astartes struck back simultaneously, in near perfect form. Malek and Arai-Beni, the veteran sergeant of the honor guard, stood back to back. Each had two weapons in his hand, and both struck and parried in harmony. With a grace suspected of a much smaller person, the pair opened a five foot circle around them with which no daemon could enter.
Meanwhile, the other eight members of the squad were busy with the massed daemonettes. Unable to get to Malek, they turned their attention on the other marines. The eight fought just as effectively, if far more brutally, then their lord and sergeant. Soon the Slaaneshi daemons were fading back into the warp, leaving nothing but a memory behind.
Looking around rapidly, Lord Malek sheathed one blade and withdrew his auspex. With a silent command, the marines under his command moved to flank the nearby exit.
"My lord..-" Arai-Beni, the hand-picked veteran captain of the honor guard, broke the vox silence.
"Yes, brother-sergeant. I hear it." Lord Malek answered. "Assault cannon fire."
He glanced at the reading on the auspex one more time and then nodded. "Captain Taq's men are well trained. We will arrive in time."
--
The large group of mutants down the straight corridor had stopped firing and Captain Taq now noticed why. They had used the distraction of the big mutants to move within range of the laspistols they carried. With a wordless signal, Taq and his Justicars dropped back behind the barricade. Just as the last head vanished behind the steel, the heavy stubbers began firing once more.
"They are wearing Templar iconography, captain." Taq's second reported. "They appear to be the Undercroft's detachment of the Errant Sentries."
"Weak willed cowards!" Captain Taq hissed. "Prepare to fire again on my mark. Aim for the bastards sullying our colors!"
On a three count, all ten of the terminators lept upright and opened fire down the corridor. The assault cannons shredded through the makeshift razorwire and several of the mutated men. Those unfortunate enough to be caught in the initial burst were dead before they struck the deck. Those the assault cannons did not kill either took cover, or were blasted apart by the storm bolters.
Captain Taq watched with amazement as the swollen mutants, the two remaining, charged out of the machine shop to his left. He had thought they were in retreat after the Justicars caught them mid-charge. "More fun for us." He mused, drawing looks from his squad-mates. He raised his storm bolter and snapped off a round, but the bolt missed the lead figure.
Pivoting in place, the Justicar opened fire upon the charging big mutants. The biggest of the two, the obvious choice for the boss, tumbled away from the fire with a grace he shouldn't possess. His unfortunate companion was chewed to bits by massed fire.
As the traitor Errant Sentry's own massed fire crashed into the terminator armor, the Justicars pivoted in place once more to unleash a return volley. Several screams accompanied the barrage, signaling that they had successfully hit. "The fools should know when they're beaten." Taq's second, an old man named Arthur, laughed.
Their attention on the traitor-mutants ahead of them, they had seemed to ignore the boss mutant of the squad they just decimated prior. It was the awareness of one of the Justicars that alerted them. He shouted a warning into the vox, just in time to alert his brethren.
The big mutant had produced a flamer in the seconds their attention had wavered, and now was raising it at them. Before the squad could turn and fire, a gout a flame burst forth and began to lick at the paint on their armor.