Omni Honore: Chapter 14
Toran, Furion and Persion followed the trail down the long corridors and across empty junctions, everywhere they ran piles of dead crew and decomposing mutants announced the fighting still raging throughout the ship. They pushed it out of their minds as they swiftly pursued the author of this carnage, determined to find Vorshaan and stop him once and for all.
Soon they approached a dank bilge from which they could hear a monotonous chanting, they slowed down and crept to the hatch. Toran glanced around the edge and took in the scene, in the centre of the room a large ritual circle had been marked out, edged with runes drawn in blood.
Inside that circle a dozen mutant priests stood with arms raised as they chanted some arcane spell. Directing them was an armoured sorcerer with four horns on his helm and bearing a staff crested with a three headed serpent.
Alongside him there were four Chaos Marines who were clad in midnight plate, they guarded a large cube, which was twelve foot to a side and covered in ceramite plates. Almost as an afterthought Magos Castabore floated silently besides it, she was subdued as if she had been stunned and was chained to the ground like a tethered blimp.
Yet what stole Toran's attention was the winged form of a Night Lord with a fanged helm and a long chainglaive, it was Vorshaan and he was in their grasp at last. Toran felt his bile rising at the sight of the Traitor, the arrogance and superiority oozing off him but worst of all was the fact he had a canopic jar hanging around his neck.
Ophelian's gene-seed was in the hands of the enemy.
Toran leaned back and whispered, "Furion with me, Persion go left, no matter what happens we must complete the mission and if I should fall you know what to do."
His brothers nodded at his words and as one the Marines charged into the bilge, weapons raised and already firing. The bolt shells soared across the space before the heretics could react, yet it seemed that they had taken precautions.
As the shells reached the edge of the circle they impacted on a shimmering energy field and detonated harmlessly in mid-air leaving the heretic unharmed. Vorshaan spun in surprise and as the bolts exploded before him roared, "Kill them!"
The four Chaos Marines drew flensing knives and bolt pistols then charged out of the circle to engage the intruders, passing through the energy field unscathed. Toran and Furion levelled their bolt weapons and Persion went wide to create a deadly crossfire. They instinctively concentrated their fire on the largest Chaos Marine and tore him apart with a devastating salvo. The Traitor fell with ragged holes blown through his armour but then the other three were upon them.
Persion was confronted by a Marine with a pair of flensing knives that he twirled in his grip, the savage Storm Herald met him with his own blade drawn and they fell upon each other in a frenzy of stabbing and hacking. Furion's opponent fired his bolt pistol as he approached but the bolts ricocheted off his thick Mark III plate and he leapt through the salvo to land a punch to the helm that sent the heretic reeling.
Meanwhile Toran was confronted by a midnight clad marine whose notched blade was smeared with blood, the sergeant saw it was transhuman in origin and realised this monster must have been one of those who tortured Daite. Toran felt the anger rush through him and it lent power to his blow as he met the scum with a scything stroke of his sword.
Too late the filth saw the power field sparking around the edge of the blade and before he could react the sword carved through his guard and on into the armour. In a blaze of lightning and sparks Toran cut the traitor in two, leaving him to collapse in a pile of steaming gore.
Vorhsaan saw his minion fall and sighed "If you someone killed right… kill them yourself."
He flared out his wings above him and swept them downwards to propel himself through the shimmering field. He soared straight at Toran with his Chainglaive extended and the sergeant met the roaring chain weapon with the edge of his own sword. As soon as they touched its power field exploded in blaze of light and it smashed the spinning blades into splinters.
Vorshaan however didn't seem fazed; he landed gracefully and swept his Adamantium haft about to bring up the serrated dagger on the other end. With eye watering speed he launched a series of blistering attacks that Toran barely fended off as he was forced backwards step by step.
Toran could feel the anger building in him, his hate and fury powering his limbs, driving him to fight harder and never letting him relent. He could see in his mind's eye the torments heaped upon his squadmates, the good men who died this day and his own physical disfigurement at the hands of this cur the last time they had met.
He deflected a vicious thrust for his heart and launched a counter attack, angling to rip off Vorshaan's head. The Dusk Prince was forced backwards and actually seemed surprised by the strength and power of his opponent's aggression.
Toran could not stop himself yelling, "You will pay for your crimes filth!"
Vorshaan actually laughed and cried, "My, my it is that little Sergeant again, this is turning out to be quite a day for reunions… How is the eye working out for you?"
Toran snarled in outrage and redoubled his attack, his need for vengeance burning fiercely within him. In his mind's eye he had fought this duel a thousand times and he had replayed their last confrontation over and over during his battle drills. He had sparred with his Chapter's champion duellists and honed his skills for countless hours in the training cages, all to be ready when he faced Vorshaan once more.
Despite all that he could still barely match his foe, the Dusk Prince fighting with a skill and grace he had honed over ten thousand years of combat. His elegant moves made Toran look brutish and crude in comparison and he was always in the best position to avoid blows, always poised to turn a parry into a counter strike.
Vorshaan's advantage was his phenomenal speed and the reach of his Chainglaive, Toran's only real counter was the lethality of his power sword. The Dusk Prince dared not block directly and was forced to deflect and dodge, falling back where he could have struck instead. Toran pressed hard but despite all his fury could not land a killing blow and the duel was a stalemate.
Out of the corner of his eye Toran saw Furion had wrapped his arms around his opponent's neck and was slowly throttling him to death while Persion had rammed his knife up under the helm of his own foe.
The microsecond of distraction almost cost him dear as Vorshaan launched a deadly thrust for his face that the sergeant barely deflected. He fell back in desperation and it was then that he realised he could not match the Dusk Prince's skill, so he changed his strategy.
Toran dropped his guard and roared "We are the Emperor's Storm!" as he brought down his sword in an overhead sweep, channelling all his strength, fury and zeal into one overpowering blow. Vorshaan was not expecting so reckless an attack and was forced to hold out his chainglaive laterally to block.
As the two weapons met the power sword's energy field flared and in a blaze of lightning the sword cut straight through the Adamantium haft. Vorshaan threw himself backwards to avoid being disembowelled by the follow through making him stumble away and loosing his poise for an instant.
Toran wasted no time in following up his strike; he raised his sword for a final killing stroke and shouted, "We are…"
He never got to finish the cry for as he lunged forward Beta intervened, making an arcane gesture that spawned blazing tendrils of green energy. The tendrils writhed and twisted around each other as they hurtled forwards to catch Toran full on in the chest.
The force of the impact threw Toran from his feet, sending him sailing backwards to land on the deck in a clatter of ceramite as the breath was knocked out of him. The warp blast coursed through his armour transmitting energy directly into his nervous system and the sergeant could not stop trashing in agony as he convulsed helplessly.
Vorshaan regained his balance was about to leap forwards to finished Toran, holding the broken ends of his Chainglaive like two short swords but at the last second broke off. While they had been duelling Furion had finished off his opponent and was now charging forwards to tackle Vorshaan.
Vorshaan looked at his foes, judging how long it would take to kill them all but at that moment the chanting behind him reached a crescendo and he realised he was out of time. He spread his ragged wings behind him and laughed, "Too little too late" then in one great sweep propelled himself backwards to land inside the circle.
On the floor Toran's trashing was subsiding as the energy faded away, his strength was returning but he could see the opportunity for vengeance slipping away. Yet in his heart he knew that there was a far more important cause at stake: his mission and his duty.
With what little breath he had left he yelled, "Persion now!"
From the side-lines Persion sprinted towards the ritual circle and nosedived over the edge, the shimmering field had deflected bolt rounds but could not stop his mass. Like a wrecking ball he barrelled through the field and pounced upon those inside, Vorshaan spun about and raised his weapons to meet him but had misjudged Persion's intent.
As he flew through the air Persion collided with the chained form of Magos Castabore, her weight was cancelled out by her anti-gravs and his inertia easily slammed them both to one side. The chains holding her down snapped like wet string and together they tumbled out of the circle, rolling over and over in a heap of metal and ceramite.
Vorshaan roared in fury at losing one of his prizes, he tensed to leap out of the circle but pulled up when he saw Toran getting back to his feet. He looked around and saw his troops had been bested and he was outnumbered by foes.
Vorshaan sneered and held up the canopic jar containing Ophelian's gene-seed as he said, "Well... two out of three isn't bad."
Then Beta slammed his staff down on the centre of the ritual circle and in a flash of Warp light, the Traitors, their priests and the cubic artefact teleported away.
Toran was left behind to roar his denial as the Dusk Prince escaped justice once again.