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Chapter 11: Daemon's Bane
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Interlude: A quiet death
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The Warp
U'zhul, the Skulltaker, most honored Herald of Khorne died quietly. In fact, almost no one noticed the precise moment of his passing.
The reason was simple. The Warp surrounding Kronus was chock-full with ravenous Daemons tearing at the borders of reality itself. Their screams of fury and pain drowned everything else. A thin barrier of Anathema's light stood firm, extracting a price of anything that attempted to manifest on Kronus. It further weakened and drained every Lesser Daemon that had the misfortune to be banished, which led to short-lived fights and feeding frenzies.
Nevertheless, Chaos was winning. The barriers separating Materium and Immaterium gradually weakened, more Daemons passed through the Warp Gate, even though they had to burn a lot of power for the privilege. Those already on the other side grew gradually stronger and bolder.
His victory was at hand, and then the impossible happened.
Chaos was denied its due. In a single moment, something banished hundreds of screaming Daemons back into the Warp. A very short-lived stunned shock ensured before the Warp descended into a feeding frenzy. In the ensuing anarchy, the feasting Daemons didn't know or care that much less food came back weakened for the taking.
Many a Daemon had expended too much energy fighting against Necron anti-Warp technology, then they expended more in actual combat and to heal wounds that would have slain a living creature. The weakest of them simply didn't have enough power left to cross back into the Warp and survive passing through the Anathema's barrier. They burned, their remaining energies purified and consumed.
The same happened to a smaller number of the weakest Lesser Daemons caught in the Necron trap. Their essence scattered and could only reach the zones of purified Warp created by the Pylons. There, it was slowly cleansed, obliterating those daemons for good.
U'zhul suffered a similar fate. He found himself caught in a potent anti-Warp field and the presence of a Pariah. He had bled a tremendous amount of energy by that point and was unable to properly replenish it. A different Daemon might have noticed the danger and ran.
The Skulltaker was made from a tougher cloth. He had his targets in front of him. The victory was at hand. And he was the Herald of Khorne. He didn't run. He fought and he won.
U'zhul fought to the last. It was glorious combat, and he gave it his all. Yet, victory has slipped his grasp, and his determination doomed him in the end. His unnatural flesh burned, his energy ended up scattered or absorbed by a ravenous Pariah, with what little was left, slamming headfirst into the Anathema's barrier where it burst into silver flame.
U'zhul, the Herald of Khorne, the Skulltaker, was no more. His very essence was gone, destroyed, transformed, or purified.
When Khorne beheld the destruction of his honored servant, he was silent for a moment that lasted for an eternity. And when it came, his wrath was legendary. The warp shook from his fury, scattering Lesser Daemons to the four winds.
Against that boundless fury, the Astronomicon glowed brighter, spreading waves of searing golden fire across the galaxy.
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Bridge
Rogue Trader Vessel Lucre Foedis
The Warp en route to Kronus
Your ship shaking during Warp travel was never a good sign. The vibrations became worse and worse the closer they got to their destination. For days now, Inquisitor Vail had her retinue outfitted for heavy combat, which unfortunately wasn't their specialty. It was a good thing they had a Mechanized Infantry Regiment embarked. The Guardsmen along with most of the crew were spread throughout the ship, watching intently for any incursion. Amberly had her retinue divided between main engineering, the Gellar field generator in particular, and the bridge.
They had to change Navigators for a third time today – the strain of finding a way past the hordes of Daemons converging on Kronus was becoming extreme. Fortunately, thanks to acting as her transport, the Lucre Foedis enjoyed ample resources in all categories.
In this particular case, paying from her pocket for additional Navigators was an extremely useful investment, which paid for itself through survival.
The senior Navigator stumbled from his alcove to be replaced by a much younger and fitter woman. Disturbingly, he bled from his three eyes, yet has had a smile on his face. Amberly's hand quickly went for a weapon, and she was ready to draw at a moment's notice. The Naval Armsmen on the Bridge did the same.
"The Emperor's light, it's beautiful!" The Navigator gushed. "He on Terra is protecting Kronus! I could see his shield! Its divinity made manifest!"
A shock-wave hit the ship and threw everyone not secured off their feet. Only Amberly's power armor and the magnetic clamps holding her to the deck saved her from breaking something, perhaps even her neck. The Navigator stumbled into a console and hit it hard. He screamed and fell to the ground carefully holding a broken arm.
"Status report!"
"Gellar Field down to forty-one percent and climbing! No breaches detected!"
"Multiple casualties, all decks!"
One of the Navigators screamed and their alcove burst open, spilling a fountain of blood, though no Daemon jumped out. There was just smoking blood and gore.\
"We lost two Navigators!"
"Pressure on the Gellar Field is lessening!"
"Whatever happened pushed us closer to our target. Estimated time of arrival in system, twenty-seven hours."
"And fifty-one hours to reach orbit afterward," Amberly muttered.
She was almost afraid to find out what waited for her at their destination.
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Part 7
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Deimos Peninsula
Kronus
The Humans were utterly insane, and the Necrons? Those murderous machines were more dangerous than the stories Rohan had heard.
He knew this mission would be dangerous, and it might risk the very souls of all Aeldari under his command. All his expectations fell much shorter than reality, unfortunately. In this place, the walls separating reality from the Sea of Souls were particularly thin. Thin enough that any Aeldari with meaningful Psychic gift would be keenly aware of all the Daemons clawing at those thin barriers. The twisted servants of She-Who-Thirsts were present, both on the surface of Kronus and in the Sea of Souls in great numbers, and all they wanted was Aeldari souls to devour and torture for eternity.
A less desperate Commander would have ordered a retreat, leaving the Humans and their allies to fight alone. Rohan didn't dare even think much about such a possibility. He didn't want to know what kind of alliance might be forged from such a cataclysm, much less see it unleashed upon his people.
The Ranger had to re-evaluate the magnitude of the disaster his sister unleashed on Kronus. He wanted to believe this was a one-off, an outlier that couldn't happen again. Either the Humans or Necrons would surely see to it. Yet, the alliance didn't fall apart. On the contrary, it was working rather well, all things considered. Too well in fact, and now the situation deteriorated further.
A veil of golden power fell upon the whole planet. Almost every Aeldari could recognize it – it was the same kind of power that illuminated a large part of the galaxy for the past ten thousand years, the Human Emperor. Kronus had his attention. The alliance had his attention, and Rohan didn't dare think it might have held disapproval.
He silently cursed Taldeer for causing this, and then Eldrad for good measure, for sending him here.
At that point, a horde of Daemonetes crawled out of the smoke, followed by Noise Marines flying on crude contraptions.
"Enemy forces in range. Weapons free." Rohan bitterly ordered, ruing the need to spent good Aeldari lives and endanger souls.
He aimed with his sniper rifle and gently caressed the trigger. A Daemonnete's head snapped up, its back missing from the shot. Grav Tanks unleashed their fury, blowing large craters within the volcanic hell. The Necron Drones found targets and descended, ramming Daemonetes and corrupted humans alike.
At the same time, the main enemy host began its attack upon the combined Human and Necron forces, who soon played their trick shaking every Aeldari in range to the bone.
The thin walls between reality and the Sea of Souls suddenly strengthened, which was good, great even. The acute appearance of pristine, clean, and peaceful patches within the Sea of Souls, which remained untouched by the neverborn was like a serene song. Whatever the insane Humans and their allies did, stunned him. For the first time since he could recall, the monstrous and malign presence of She-Who-Thirsts was nothing more than a distant whisper he could barely perceive. For a moment, Rohan could almost imagine that the Aeldari's greatest folly couldn't touch him.
A lance of coherent light ravaged the hill he hid on, rattling him out of the daze. Rohan slapped the side of his helmet and shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. Looking around, he could see his soldiers were affected as well. Most had ceased firing, including many Grav Tanks, which merely floated listlessly. Only the Walkers appeared unaffected, and they kept shooting at the advancing neverborn.
"Aeldari!" Rohan screamed. "Fight! Fight for Ulthwé! Fight for your families! Fight for your souls! Don't let those wretches claim you!"
More and more Guardians shook off their stupor and rejoined the battle. One after another, the tank crews found their senses and unleashed their fury upon the advanced Daemons.
Rohan kept firing in a frenzy, hating those who brought the Fall of the Aeldari Empire and caused the birth of Who-She-Thirsts more than he could put into words. For the first time in his life, he had a taste of what his people lost in the Fall, and it was staggering beyond belief.
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There were Daemons everywhere. Thanks to the Emperor they were "only" Bloodletters and other lesser abominations. Otherwise, Captain Thule and his Blood Ravens would have been dead already. It was a very close call anyway. All he could do was fight. Parry, slash and tear with his Lighting Claws, then jump up to avoid being swarmed, before landing into another group of the monsters. The Daemons were weaker than they should have been. While their Hellblades were as dangerous as ever, almost all Bloodletters Thule engaged moved slower than they should have. There was less strength behind their strength than it should have, their unnatural flesh split easier than experience told him it should.
The Inquisitor's latest scheme was working, better than expected. Perhaps disastrously so. The Skulltaker was on the field. Weakened or not, there were too many Daemons between that monster and Captain Thule. He had to trust the Inquisitor, Anteas, and the Xeno because disengaging in order to seek that particular abomination would be disastrous.
This battle might very well decide the whole campaign. If they could establish and hold a foothold in the region, without suffering crippling losses, then they could win. A catastrophic setback here might doom them all.
All the Captain could do was fight with desperate fury and pray. He tore apart countless Daemons, yet for every single abomination he banished, at least one more came to take its place. The line was breaking, his allies couldn't halt the Skulltaker, and he was stuck dealing with this chaff!
"Blood Ravens! To me!" Thule roared as he decapitated a screeching Daemon. "Hold the line!"
The Captain jumped again and had to twist in mid-air to avoid dozens of descending Necron Drones. The suicidal machines rammed Daemons and detonated, throwing away mangled bodies, which soon got back up, wounded, but still dangerous.
He saw the line break, saw the Inquisitor's retinue charge at the Skulltaker in the distance. Invigorated Daemons surged forth, ensuring no help would reach the beleaguered defenders. The Blood Raven slammed into a Bloodletter, pulping it under his bulk, and tore its skull in two with a swipe of his right claws while catching a sword aimed at his neck with the other. A riposte eviscerated a Daemon, then two more red abominations were on him. Those two were much faster and stronger than the Bloodletters he has faced so far. They pushed him back, and the captain found himself fighting among a cluster of Necron Warriors who stubbornly held their ground against overwhelming numbers. Thule parried two Hellblades trying to gut him and caught a glimpse of a black sword passing above his head to cave in the slobbering face of a Daemon. He used the opportunity to cut the other Bloodletter in two, and only then it registered that a Xeno just saved his life.
For a few endless minutes, Captain Thule had to fight back to back with a shrinking group of Necrons while Daemons did their best to overrun them. His world shrunk to his Lighting Claws and tearing apart any abomination coming close.
A huge emerald flash shattered the spell, rattling the Blood Raven to the bone. He blinked off after-images and saw a Necron Monolith towering above the battlefield a few kilometers away. Daemons fell left and right, bursting into white or silver flames. Those who survived whatever just happened stumbled and began moving much slower than before.
The Monolith lashed in all directions, heavy exotic weaponry laying waste upon anything it touched.
"Push them back! Attack!" Captain Thule roared and threw himself back into the fry.
"All units on this net, Priority Alpha target Skulltaker has been neutralized." Anteas' tired voice came over the battle-net. "We need immediate Apothecary or Medicae assistance on my position. Multiple critical wounded…"
Thule sliced through one last Bloodletter, and suddenly there were no more Daemons facing him. He could see Traitor armor in the distance exchanging fire with the Monolith before all kinds of Necron Drones swarmed all over the vehicles. A moment later, numerous explosions lit up the horizon.
It was time to take stock of the casualties and figure out the situation.
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