There were only five Eldar left in the hold. The others had been taken away and their fate was unknown. It's possible that they were still alive, but if they were, they were surely lost now..

It was hard to know how long Dresarieth and the other Eldar had been in this one room. It could have been several days, could be more could be less, but it was not important. What mattered was the Eldar in the hold were getting desperate, they were cold, they were hungry and they could feel the claws of slaanesh at their very souls. It was impossible to know how long they had been left in the hold, the light never changed and there was nothing regular to measure the time against, just the continual rumble of the ship's engine. The only break from the endless waiting was when some Space marine entered the room to take one of them out of the room, never to be seen again, or to have his disgusting way with them there and then.

Dresarieth was one of the five that was left, along with Feraset, his fellow scourge, a reaver pilot and two wyches, one of the wyches was wounded from the battle and unable to stand, her leg had clearly been broken. Perhaps this is why she had not been 'chosen' by any of the marines.

Feraset leaned over to Dresarieth, "we need to get out of here."

"I know."

"This place is too close to he who thirsts," said Feraset, "We have to get away,"

"I know," said Dresarieth again.

"We're all going to die here, there is no way out of this tiny room, and the filthy humans are going to defile us! What are we going to do, Dresarieth?"

"I don't know!" exclaimed Dresarieth. He paced around, there was nothing he could use; a flat floor, featureless walls and nothing but a single dim light on the ceiling. He had investigated the door many times, but there was no way past it, it was a heavy and sealed from the other side. Dresarieth considered himself to be good with a lockpick but there was nothing he could work with here. All he could do was wait and it was unbearable.

"We need to make a move whenever someone enters the room again." said the reaver pilot.

"But how" said Feraset, "they are always armed and they are always space marines. I can't fight that with my bare hands."

"They are not all marines," said Dresarieth. "and they seem to be taking us less seriously every time they come in, you know, taking more risks. We need to wait for them to take a big risk…"

"That will never work," said one of the wyches, she was the only one to have been brought back by the space marines. Whatever they did, they left her with a bloodied nose that still had yet to stop bleeding. "Who made you in charge anyway?" she spat a mouthful of bloody saliva on the floor, "typical scourge superiority."

"If we get out of here, you can wait behind if you want," said Feraset. "I don't see you coming up with any ideas."

"It's pointless," said the Wych, "we're nothing but playthings to them. We'll never get out of here."

An hour of silence passed and the door made the familiar unlocking noise again and all the eldar scampered to the far side of the room. It opened wide and a single space marine stepped in.

Dresarieth remembers this marine, red robes over his power armour and an ornate golden helm covering his head, Halphas.

"We have had our fun with your kind," said the marine, the helmet distorting his voice, but not able to veil the hatred it carried. "It is time for you to leave," and with that he turned and left the room.

He just left the hold and didn't close the door. After being locked up for what felt like days, this looked like an invitation.

Feraset stood up and inched her way toward the exit.

"What are you doing?" asked Dresarieth.

Feraset glanced back at her scourge kin and said "I'm getting out of here."

"Don't be so stupid Feraset," spat Dresarieth, "it's the most obvious trap I've ever seen."

Feraset poked her head out the door, checked there was noone around, then lightly stepped her way up the hallway further from the door, until she got to a corner. Peering round, then checking back the other way.

She called back in a loud whisper, "It's all clear, come on!"

The pilot and the wych that could walk followed through the door.. What was the alternative? to wait here in this tiny room for death or worse? Dresarieth got up and followed, if he was going to die, he would go down fighting.

The wych with the broken leg attempted to get up, but staggered and fell to the floor again with a crunch, she grimaced at the pain as she clutched her leg in her hand, "Scourge, don't leave me behind!" she called out, "Help me!"

Dresarieth looked at the wych, helpless on the floor. She had a pretty face, but that wouldn't help her any more and Dresarieth did not want to be slowed by the wounded, he needed to be swift and light on his feet. He turned towards the exit and said simply over his shoulder "Why?" he then left to join the others.

They walked along the corridor with feet as light as possible. The corridors were long and complex, but Dresarieth remembers the way they were brought. If there was any way off the ship it was going to be in the hangar bay.

ALERT ALERT XENOS OUTBREAK SECTOR 7-G

"They know we're here!" exclaimed the wych.

"They knew we were here as soon as that brute left the door open!" retorted Dresarieth. "We need to pick up the pace."

Dresarieth rushed forwards and took the lead of the group. The corridor was narrow and the ceiling was low; even though there wasn't even enough room to open his wings, he still tasted freedom. He was forced to use his feet, but he was still swift enough to lead the others.

He turned a corner and immediately stopped when he saw two large human figures at the far end of the hallway. They were space marines, but without armor. They spotted Dresarieth and ran in his direction.

Dresarieth turned back round the corner he had just emerged from and to the others, "They've seen us."

"Quick in here!" said Feraset as she opened a nearby cabin door; they all rushed in without hesitation.

Dresarieth was the last one in, nearly getting his wing trapped in the door as it was slammed behind him.

He looked back round and saw the Eldar were not the only ones in the room. There were two others, two women, a human and a tau. They just stood there, staring.

The Human was the first to make a move, she dived to one side, reaching for what looked like a wrapped up sword. She grabbed the handle, but the reaver pilot was on her straight away, trying to pull the sword from her. The Tau jumped at the pilot and shoved him into the wall. The wych made a leap toward the human to try and get the sword, but a lucky swing from the human with the uncovered blade found its mark, and its effects left everyone stunned.

The wych received a cut in her arm but within seconds the bleeding stopped and her arm turned black. The wych's life was extinguished only moments before her entire body was dried up and fell apart like ash.

"Husk blade" mumbled Dresarieth.

The human woman lunged with the sword to Dresarieth, but he dodged, only just letting it slip by.

Feraset Launched forwards using her wings to propel her knee into the tau's head, surely taking her out of action.

Dresariesh could hear the lock in the door begin to move, the woman raised the sword above her head, dresarieth quickly went to grab her wrist, delivered a swift palm to the face and leapt over her. Twisting the sword from her grip, he then held her arm and moved the sword to her throat.

The door swung open - BANG BANG BANG, the two marines shot the two other eldar dead. Dresarieth kept hold of the woman and hid behind her.

"Don't shoot!" said Dresarieth as he crouched below the woman's shoulders. It was only when he heard his own voice when he realized how shaky he was. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, so he took a moment to breath, for he needed to think clearly. He glanced over at Feraset's bloodied corpse, her slender frame had been destroyed by two of the space marine's bolt rounds. She was beautiful, and now these monsters had ruined her in an instant.

The woman whimpered something ,"Gechorus!"

"Be quiet!" shouted Dresarieth, "Just let me go and she wont get hurt!"

"Fine," said one of the marines, "just pass her over to me and we will all walk away from this."

Dresarieth glanced past the woman, the space marines were standing in the doorway, with their pistols aimed in Dresarieth's direction. He let out a sigh, this felt pointless, once he passed over the woman then what, he would just run into another Space Marine, or a group of them, how did he know they weren't gathering to his location, or there wasn't a whole battalion waiting outside the door.

The escape was a failure and his life was as good as over; but he wasn't going without killing something.

Dresarieth pulled the sword from Xilthara's throat and pushed her into the arms of one of the Space Marines.

Xilthara looked up into the eyes of the space marine, and this was the time to strike. Dresarieth threw the sword and impaled it into the woman's back. The Space marines were too slow to react.

Dresarieth took one step back and with a loud bang he felt a huge force impact into his shoulder. He felt nothing; and couldn't help but laugh when he saw that his arm had been blasted off by the Space Marine pistol. The Space Marine altered his aim slightly and with another bang, everything was black.