Presenting a teaser for the upcoming story: Noctem Oritur
Somewhere, Somewhen
The bridge was to all appearances was a perfect example of Imperial efficiency, with officers and crew bustling about with well-practised ease yet scratch the surface and the veneer of perfection was marred. The crew were hunched twisted things, men with tentacles for arms or too many eyes sitting at consoles and tending to arcane machinery.
The servitor systems were wrong too, men who had not been properly lobotomised had been drilled into place, moaning and screaming in agony as their brains were subverted to manage the complex systems.
Most Imperial bridges were ornate and gilded, large enough to resemble cathedrals in their echoing space but this, this was an amphitheatre. It was a vast bowl shaped arena, with thousands of crew bustling to and fro and receded pits were sunk into the floor each housing a dozen industrious officers.
The walls and floor were curiously bare too, lacking the gilding of the Imperium or the twisted nightmares of Chaos; it was clean, efficient and elegant in its plain lines... if somewhat darkly lit.
In the very centre of the soaring bridge was the raised pedestal of a command dais, it was bordered with a marble rim and surrounded by a polished Nalwood rail and it bore a single throne. The throne was large, extremely large, too big in fact for an Astartes to sit in without looking childlike themselves.
Standing before the throne were two figures, one wore long robes over his turquoise armour that were embellished with esoteric symbols, he carried a staff crested with a three headed snake and his helm bore four twisted horns. The other was a giant even by Space Marine standards, his armour decorated with writhing serpents and chained 'A' shapes, he bore a large double headed axe that was carved with glowing runes and he was kneading it impatiently in his grip.
The giant turned his back on the bridge and snarled, "By the dark powers Beta, how much longer are we going to play these games, when will we finally launch our attack?"
The sorcerer replied, "Now, now Gamma, this is an important step in the process. We must ensure everything is perfect before we make our move, haste is an enemy as deadly as any other."
Gamma growled, "He who hesitates is lost."
Beta sighed and replied, "It took ten thousand years to complete this work, what are a few more weeks of field trials?"
Now Gamma sounded like he was grinning under his helm and said, "Single handed we have obliterated the other ships in almost every simulation."
"Almost" replied Beta rolling the word around like grit found in a succulent delicacy, "Lord Vorshaan has no use for 'Almost', either we triumph or we die there are no other options."
"Vorshaan" growled Gamma the amusement gone from his voice, "How much longer are we going to follow that damned cur about?"
"As long as the Legion requires" answered Beta, "Alpha wants this done right and we will not fail him."
"Then just kill the fool and be done with it" hissed Gamma.
"No" commanded Beta "Until the prize is ours we will act the part of loyal servants, now speak no more of this, he is coming."
From behind them a new figure was climbing the marble steps to the dais, he was clad in lightning streaked armour of mid night hue with a fanged helm that appeared to leer at anyone who glanced at him. Behind his back were a pair of fleshy mutated wings and at his waist were a pair of bare swords, marked with dark runes that leaked black smoke and seemed to writhe in ways no simple metal should be able to do.
Beta turned to face the newcomer and bowed low saying, "Welcome Lord Vorshaan, all is in readiness for your next field test."
"It had better be" growled Vorshaan the Dusk Prince, "I grow weary of these endless trials; I yearn to unleash our new weapon in genuine combat."
Beta could practically feel the smugness radiating off Gamma but stepped forwards and said, "One more round of tests my lord, just one more to ensure everything is perfect."
Vorshaan glared at him in irritation and said "You are lucky your grovelling pleases me or I would rip out your slimy tongue. If you insist then I can defer my triumph for one more go around the system, what is the status of our escorts?"
Gamma stepped forwards and said, "The cruisers Ixion and Ephialtes are ready and Phorcides squadron reports their frigates have bound Neverborn into their auspex arrays, their commanders boast that there is no way we can escape detection this time."
"Those boasts better prove hollow or I will take both your heads" growled Vorshaan, "Let us not waste more time, signal the chasers to fall back to the edge of sensor range then commence their sweep. We will disappear and let them test our effectiveness; if we can elude Daemons then we can evade anything the Imperial dogs can throw at us."
Gamma bowed low and moved away shouting orders at bridge officers and stirring a commotion in their serried ranks, meanwhile Vorshaan wandered over to the great throne and rested one hand on the stone seat. He did not sit upon it for he would have looked weak in such an overbuilt setting but he did not move away from the centre of power either.
Beta wandered over to him and asked, "Lord, why have you never had that removed?"
Vorshaan did not look at him but said, "As a reminder that there is always someone bigger than you out there and that even the best laid plans can go awry."
He lifted his hand from the throne and spread his arms wide saying, "This should have been mine ten thousand years ago, I was within an inch of claiming it for the VIIIth Legion but then that fethwipe Typhus swept in and burned it out from under me. Ten millennia I have scraped, stolen and bargained for the materials to rebuild my great chariot and the others laughed at me for it!"
He spun about and declared with anger in his voice, "They laughed! They called it a folly and a useless relic but look at me now. While all the other Chaos Lords wasted their armies on petty vendetta's and pointless wars I alone rebuilt and gathered my strength."
Beta nodded, "It is indeed an impressive and potent weapon of war."
"Impressive?!" barked Vorshaan, "The Vengeful Spirit, Macragge's Honour, Iron Blood, Endurance, Hrafnkel, Conqueror and Red Tear those are more than just names. Those ships dictated the course of history itself, the men who commanded them were kings of the nine vectors and now I will join them. A Glorianna class battleship of my very own, those pathetic Storm Heralds will not stand a chance."
Beta said snidely, "Still it can only break the loyalist's fleets and clear out the orbital defences, a Fortress Monastery is another problem altogether. Even this ship will not break their void shields, only a ground assault can achieve your ultimate goal."
Vorshaan waved a hand dismissively and said, "That is where the warbands you and Gamma summoned come in, we will wait until the moment is right then wipe the Storm Heralds from the face of the galaxy. Once word spreads that I have crushed an entire chapter countless warbands will flock to fight under my banner, I will command whole legions of Chaos, enough to give Abaddon himself pause."
Now a note of alarm entered Beta's voice as he said, "You are not planning to challenge the Warmaster are you?!"
Vorshaan gave him an exasperated look and said, "I may be crazy but I am not stupid, no a position of glory in the next Black Crusade will suffice... for now."
Their discourse was interrupted as Gamma strode back saying, "The chasers are in position, we are ready."
"Good" purred Vorshaan, "Beta you may begin the procedure."
Beta bowed then turned and marched over to the edge of the rail where he could look down into a very special operation pit, ensconced within was a large white cube that was twelve feet to a side. It was covered in ceramic tiles but through the gaps could be seen arcane mechanisms inscribed on obsidian plates and on the front were a ring of interface cables plugged in around one analogue dial.
Beta began directing gaggles of twisted Dark Mechanicus priests to begin tending to the device and as they did so the already dim lights on the bridge flickered and died. In the twilight illumination of consoles and flashlights Vorshaan and Gamma walked over to the rail and watched on with fierce interest.
Before their eyes the needle on the device began to twitch and move, then it began to climb passing through a green segment of the dial and on into the yellow part. As they watched the analogue dial crept up past the yellow boundary and kept climbing into the red, they all held their breaths for a heart stopping moment but then the needle slowed and came to rest, well into the red but just shy of the danger limit.
Beta breathed out in relief and declared, "The Primaris Harmonic Invertor is performing perfectly again, Reflex shields are engaged."
"Excellent" replied Vorshaan, "Then we should be undetectable to any auspex or visual scanners, you may begin your manoeuvres, I want us well off our last heading when Ixion, Ephialtes and Phorcides squadron start their sweep."
Gamma stomped off again but Beta said with a note of caution, "Tolerances are much finer than we expected, masking a battleship this size is a delicate balancing act, too much manoeuvring and we risk energy bleed. The ancient accounts say the XIXth Legion had to operate at reduced power when using Reflex Shields, I would recommend shutting down all non-essential systems this time and keeping course corrections to a minimum."
"I will take that under advisement" said Vorshaan as the crew hurried about their business, "Who would have thought the lost secrets of Reflex Shield technology was sitting right under our noses the whole time. A fine cosmic jest but the Dark Gods must have laughed their faces off when they put it into the hands of the very Imperials we want to kill."
Vorshaan paced back to the throne and leaned against it in satisfaction as he said "Still we will be the ones laughing when we are orbiting their homeworld and watching it burn. I would love to see their faces the moment that they witness the Shadow of the Emperor returning from the grave right on their doorstep."
