Getting from the boarding deck corridors of the Glorious Heritageto where Commander Dariel kept his office wasn't the easiest of treks to make – let alone with the chaos of that had caused the ship it's upsets and continuing malfunctions from the large energy-spike that'd come from Tuelle. Several doors had become shorted out and refused access even when given the correct codes. Other sections of the Imperial Ship had collapsed in on themselves blocking any passage through them.
Primaris Greyson felt initially irate that he'd not been informed of such irksome details preventing his swift arrival to his Commanders quarters. He turned to Private Krell who'd only recently been with Dariel. "You knew about these," he accused the deformed Private openly. Tension tight in his voice. It felt like every single time he took this trip it got longer and longer – he was not impressed with the notion that there was another force at play preventing him from getting to where he needed to be.
The private quickly shook his head. "No Sir, these are new, Sir." He answered drawing closer towards some of the fallen debris that currently blocked their path. He frowned deeply at the collection of metal walkways, walls and wires.
Keeva Genesis had already turned around and started to backtrack their journey and find a way around this collapse. Not for the first time.
"New?" He questioned, watching the private impassively. He gave a glance over his shoulder to see where the Second-Commander had gone, and caught her turning back the way they'd come.
"Yes, Sir. I swears it. Somethings happened since I came this way." Krell stated utterly confused as to what had happened on board the Glorious Heritage. It was weird, unknowable and utterly... chaotic. Certainly a mind such as his couldn't comprehend what was happening.
"Stand back, Private." The Psyker ordered.
Krell gave the debris a last look over before backing away from it, dutifully obeying orders. The Psyker reached out with his mutated hand. Through the thick veil of his Torpor cocktail he could barely feel the immaterium that fuelled his abilities, but he clawed blindly through the dense fog. Reaching out for something, anything that may aid in the access through the ship. His brow twitched and his forehead beaded with sweat at the strain. Fighting through the drug had never been easy – but adding on the presence of additional barriers amongst the immaterium made the job near impossible. Near. But not quite. There was something he could harness in the darkness, something solid that would change their fate. The hard chitin of his mutated claws grasped tightly upon it; with great effort and exertion that showed across his noble features he pulled. All the while something whispered comfortingly, soothing his rising fears and calming the pains creeping inside his mind.
"Victarius," Nathaniel called out, knowing that his aims would bare little fruition should they be used upon him. He was a Psyker of the biomantic arts and whereas should one of his telekinetic brethren be here they'd just be able to move whatever blocked their path with their minds, he however had to seek alternative methods.
When the Overseer drew next to him, Nathaniel turned, with sweat dripping down his face and pulled the spell through the starchy mush of the immaterium enhancing the humans already considerable abilities.
"We need to clear this mess," Nathaniel ordered once more. "Second-Commander, head back and bring half of what remains of the Guard attachment from the Blast door, they can help us remove this wreckage."
With the aid of the psychic enhancement, Victarius set to work, pulling various parts of the debris out of the way with little strain to his physical self. Nathaniel could see the mans muscle structure through his torn clothing and how easy he was making lifting pieces of metal look. The Overseer might regret the enhancements when they wore off, but for now he was making light work of getting through the tangle of waste.
Before Keeva could return to them however, there was a faint sound right behind Nathaniels ear. Only noticeable as it caught the fringes of the Psykers hearing. It sounded like someone ripping a piece of paper directly in half with extreme slow precision. Pale faced from his prior exertion he turned to look over his shoulder and took a fleeting step backwards towards where Victarius was working.
What he saw through the unstable plane of the warp, would not be granting them any respite from their already turbulent trials. Through the clarity of his own eyes, freed from the grasps of immaterial space he could see what had made the haunting sound. A violent split torn in the side of the corridor – yet not so physical to be in the side of the metal of the battle barge herself, a large swirling rend, darker than the blackest of xenos clenching maws was arching out before him.
The faint whispering of; "I'll protect you," swished it's way into his ears and Nathaniel was about to thank whoever had made the gesture, only to realise there was no one standing close enough to him to have made the offer.
The rift howled, tearing itself wider taking up a large portion of the corridor. Against his skin, Nathaniel could feel a sucking pull towards it. His hair whipping around his face – even at the distance he stood from it. He shouted a warning to Private Krell, telling the stunted man to keep away from the vicious rift. His warning came a moment too late – as the power of the centre of the rift magnified; drawing the Private towards the mouth of the rift.
Krell squealed, the sound strangled in his throat as he was uncontrollably sucked towards the rift.
The terrified psyker reached out and grabbed onto the Privates arm, keeping him from being consumed by the warp-rift and whatever lurked within. Powerful clawed hand of the mutant Imperial keeping the stunted man as close to him as possible, despite feeling concerned for both his health and mentality.
Once more the Psyker reached through the thickness to access his own abilities. The reward he was granted was feeble, a fleeting scrap of his will remained despite the drug and the vacuum effect of the opening rift. From the tips of his clawed hand lightening crackled, the hairs on the back of his neck stood high on end. The white hot forks of lightening raged out towards rift and the ever more visible white toothed maws within. The moment the chained-power touched the edges of the rift the Psyker recoiled in pain as it arched back at him. The heat diminished, but enough of a shock to cause him stinging discomfort. He clutched the staff tighter in his hand to give him a grounding notion – leaning against it for added comfort. The Psyker couldn't peel his eyes from the Warp rift and for good reason. Within the centre of the portal he could see something, a shape emerging; as much as he did not desire to stick around to see the warp spawn form he felt frozen to the spot – through fear or curiosity he did not know.
The beasts, at first they seemed small, but Nathaniel knew that this was not the case. Their skins a vibrant hue of rusted crimson. With long claws stark white reaching to pointed tips. Their faces were elongated into hook-beaked ends; they had no eyes, they didn't need them to see, only hollow sockets. From their back powerful leathery wings protruded, a single hooked appendage probed the air. A gurgling screech tore Nathaniels attention back from the rift, as the furious daemons leapt through the portal, bringing only a couple of their charred brethren. The spear tip of his staff jabbed at one of the beasts before the Psyker turned to flee.
As he did so he came face first to greet the Second-Commander. He looked confused at him, "Are you on fire?" She asked, tilting her head slightly to the side. With her there were several guardsmen, a mere handful compared to what they had originally left behind.
He shook his head, the shock from his own lightening had caused his overcoat to smoke. "No time," he said to Keeva unable to explain, going to take her arm and lead her away but thinking better of it; incase any of the static from his shock arched onto her.
Keeva frowned, and tried to look behind him to see what caused the sound and the screeches that followed, and saw the flashed of lasgun fire from where Krell had remained behind to fight, the simple Privates courage against what he faced a credit to his nature. The Private protecting the still working Victarius. There would be little they could do against so many beasts other than hope that they could keep them at bay long enough while the wreckage was cleared for them.
"Engage," Nathaniel ordered his men and they quickly fell in beside the rapidly firing gun belonging to Krell. "You three," his clawed fingers pointed towards the guardsmen he was ordering. "Help clear that mess."
The lasgun fire held the daemonic furies in a bottleneck; keeping them from pressing through the rift. On the floor one twitched, writhing in pain. The heavy metal tip of the Psykers staff was brought down on the side of it's sightless head crushing it's soft tissue against the hard corridor floor. Keeva had her own pistol drawn and was aiding the guardsmen in their attempts to keep the relentless beasts from getting on board the ship.
A glance was given towards the rubble clearing guardsmen their work well under way. There was a small gap emerging in the wreckage.
"Can you get through?" Nathaniel asked of Keeva.
She gave the small gap a quick look between firing her pistol. She lowered her weapon and looked to see how much of a space there was. A crippling fear came over her as she looked at the narrow offering. The cave in bringing back forth unwelcomed memories of her sole survival on the planet Ashera. She hesitated, looking back to the portal and the horrors pushing their way through. She then looked back to the gap. "Yes," she uttered hesitantly trying to keep the fear for confined spaces from her voice.
"Then get through and get help," Nathaniel ordered her once more.
She was about to protest, to tell the Psyker to send Krell through but when she looked over her shoulder she could see that their firing line was failing to keep the beasts at bay. She heard the clicking sound of a magazine cartridge being expended and one of the guardsmen calling to one of his fellows for a spare for reloading. She pressed herself against the metal and managed to wriggle herself along the narrow gap, trying to keep her mind off the tightness that she squeezed her way through. Behind her she heard Nathaniel shout to his fellows; ordering them to hold their line. Their courage was clearly faltering.
A grinding noise sounded not long after, as she was part way through the debris and her heat pounded faster. Certain she was going to be crushed by some of the broken metal. She stopped where she was looking the other way to see if she should go back – she'd made it further than she had anticipated and that spurred her on further through the hole.
The amount of relief she felt when she finally got free from the small space was overwhelming. She shouted a few times for someone to come help her before anyone came rushing.
Nathaniel took an unwitting step back himself, he felt utterly drained and had no desire to use his powers against the rift should they once again be redoubled against him and his own men. Their time was running short and out of the corner of his eye he could see Victarius lagging in his efforts. The effect of his spell not lasting long enough due to the influence of the torpor.
"Concentrate on the gap," he breathed. If they could get through the gap after Keeva they might just survive.
Victarius and his fellows did as they were ordered and started pulling pieces of the wreckage away from the side of the wall.
Beside him Nathaniel heard a garbled scream as one of the furies leapt from the rift onto the guardsman beside him. Another tragic waste of life. The Psyker brought the tip of his staff forwards, impaling the beast. It writhed in absolute agony, it's scream far worse than that of the human it had just killed. The claws in it's wing tips curled up like a shrivelled, dead spider as it screamed on the floor. Several of the other furies looked in Nathaniels direction and a feeling of dread overtook him once more. He moved defensively, taking another step back towards the guardsmen clearing the debris. Krell took a step towards the monsters, keeping his gun firing. Joined swiftly by his peers, the death of the fury bolstering their confidence.
From behind there was an almighty crash and the wreckage caved in on itself. Taking with it two of the working Imperials. When the dust cleared Keeva emerged with an attachment of her own. A squad of older, more senior members of the Aris 412th. Their fire over lapping with that of those around the psyker – giving them some more powerful sustained fire to hide behind. Relief came to those who'd been under so much pressure. Yet there was still no time for rest as the rift continued to pour out fury after fury to overwhelm them.
"Lead on, hurry," Nathaniel pressured her. The Second-Commander did as she was ordered and led them away from the rift filled corridor. Their flight did not last long, Keeva led them to another corridor, clear this time from any debris.
"Hold here," The Psyker barked another order through his tiredness, "We need a cordon here," He marked out a line with his hand in the corridor where the Guardsmen should set up their line of defence.
"Krell, Victarius, with me," he ordered his two closest allies. They were visibly relieved to not be left behind to suffer the fate of the furies.
The four of them headed down towards their destination, a light flickering on the wall hinted to the unstable power enveloping the ship. It was clear that the Grim-Daemon had wrought some of it's own havoc throughout the Imperial War ship.
"What happened?" Keeva questioned once they had reached some sort of safe distance.
Nathaniel gave the slightest of shrugs, his footsteps had become more difficult and he lent heavier against his supporting staff. He hadn't a clue himself about what they had just faced, other than assuming that it was the Grim-Daemon that had somehow brought them with him when he'd been resurrected. Yet there was something that he felt concerned for, both the voice he had heard and the coincidence of the rift emerging twinned with the use of his powers to enhance Victarius – who now looked almost as awful as he felt.
Keeva looked utterly confused, Nathaniel was hiding something from her, and she couldn't understand why. It felt awful being kept in the dark when everything around her was falling apart. She turned on the Psyker. Demanding that he explain his initiative, but her words stopped mid sentence. Out of the corner of her eye she saw something. Something more terrible than being kept in the dark. Daemon spawn. She drew her small las-pistol and took aim, ready to fire.
Nathaniel caught her arm and started to pull her away from the oncoming beasts. Her bravery in the face of the daemons was commendable, but foolish. A single pistols Las-fire would only antagonise the beasts; they needed something more substantial – a gun line at best. Knowing when to hold and when to retreat, where your tactical lines were; that was the trait of the Guardsmen. Recklessly engaging the enemy and assuming you'd win? That was the way of the Space Marine!
Nathaniel hurried to the nearest functioning wall-mounted Vox unit. It was belching static and he couldn't be certain that it was working entirely. "All remaining guardsmen are to rendezvous at Commander Dariels office. Do what you can to entrench there. Engage all unknown entities with suppressive Las-Fire."
There was no reply from the Vox and the Psyker had to trust that the Emperor was still watching over them.
Still holding onto the Second-Commanders arm he led her away from the pursuing host of daemons towards their initial destination; surely with the collection of guardsmen and their guns they'd stand a chance of holding. Silent prayer was given to the Emperor for that slim chance.