Thulsa ducked below a crackling bolt of lightning. Leveling his graviton imploder at the offending Thallax he pulled the trigger, the resulting gravity flux turning the cyborg into a pod of crushed scrap metal dripping with milky nerve-gel and motor oil. Spinning on his heel he rent the ribcage of a grenadier apart with his ceramite vibro-cleaver, carapace armour providing little protection against Thulsa's terrible strength. Kicking the half-dead man away, he parried a blow from a power maul aimed at his face, slamming his blade up to the hilt in the grenadiers skull. Tearing it free and mag-locking his grav-imploder to the small of his back, he picked up the power maul, its flanged head still wreathed in an electric-blue field of energy.
Thulsa laughed as he batted away a gleaming mono-sword with the back of his vibro-cleaver before slamming his maul into the grenadiers head. Not even bothering to look at his handiwork, Thulsa leaped backward to avoid a swinging sledgemaul, landing nimbly on his feet. There were only three grenadiers left now, the nearest of which was the first to die.
Like a coiled spring, Thulsa darted fowards at the sledge-wielding man, his bloodied weapons at the ready. He dropped to his knees as the sledgemaul tore through the air, missing his head by mere inches. Using the momentum of his charge, he slammed his power maul into the man's right knee. The heavy flak armour and the flesh and bone beneath shattered like a glass plate as the grenadiers leg bent backward with a sickening snap. Spinning on his heel, Thulsa stabbed his vibro-blade deep into the man's side before tearing it free in a shower of bile and blood.
Pain shot through Thulsa's body as a neural whip grazed his left hand, sending his power maul clattering to the floor. Growling, he rose, licking the gore from his blade as he did so. He dodged another strike from the whip as he shot into motion. His free hand closed around the throat of the bare-headed man as he used his momentum to plunge his vibro-blade deep into the man's heart whilst they both crashed to the ground. Thulsa rose to his feet, panting from the sideaffects of the high-grade combat drugs on his system.
Tearing the blade free from its fleshy confines he glanced around at the carnage surronding him. At least two dozen bodies lay dead, most were tech-thralls and gun servitors along with the few grenadiers that had joined the battle. He picked up the power maul off of the blood soaked ground before glancing at the doorway that they had came out of. Pressing the activation rune of his power maul, he broke into a jog, then a run.
His prey was close, all that need be done was reach out and grab it by the throat.
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The Heretek Magos Dominus Alekura stood hunched over a battered logis-engine. She had more then a hundred guards within his lair, from drug-fueled zealots to thallax cyborg's, and thay all shared one thing.
That they were all dead.
She had intially paid little attention to the intruders through the mind-impulse units and crude bionics implanted into them, thinking that it was another group of bounty hunters attempting to claim the bounty on his head just as so many others had tried before them. She was wrong.
Over the course of a mere ten minutes, the group had butchered there way through all of her guards. Even she had to admit, a Ssyth warrior, Dark Eldar Incubi, Ogryn and an old Redemptionist Priest was an unlikely group, but it was the man who led them that scared her the most.
The leader of them had gone on a killing spree, even her prized Castellax-Class Battle-Automata had been all but torn to shreds before the warrior's onslaught.
She withdrew her data-tether from the logis-engine. Her servo-arm clicked and whirred over her shoulder as she drew a baroque stubcarbine from the depths of her off-white robes, The power axe in her other hand sparked into life, its overcharged power field sending arcs of raw energy cascading off of its cog-toothed edge. With a thought she offlined the auspex built into her servo-rig as he turned to the doorway.
Her executioner approched...
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Back on Terra...
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Malcador looked over the group of servents arranging the room. He counted the chairs in his head, noting the lone extra.
Not long after the end of the Great Crusade, when the Emperor had given his sons the means to have families of their own, when the wives of the Primarchs had given birth to their children, the Dark Eldar had launched an attack on each of them.
Nearly all were beaten back, all but one.
On that night, the Dark Eldar had stolen the son of a demigod.
His twin sister was unharmed, save for a tiny scar on her left cheek. But of her brother, there was no sign amongst the ruined corpses.
Every Space Marine, Adeptus Arbites, Sister of Silence and Adeptus Mechanicus Magos knew to keep an eye trained on finding any trace of the boy...
...And, for the last eighteen years, not a single trace of him or the geneseed within him were found.
The Sigillite slowly shook his head.
'Nothing is set in stone, Malcador' Those were the very words the Emperor had used when he had brought the subject up.
Malcador was snapped from his thoughts as a servant approched him "My lord, which wine is best" The servant questioned. Malcador glanced a the man for a moment before pointing at the bottle of white wine.
Throne, he hated his job.
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Thulsa nimbly ducked under the Heratek's swinging power axe. He used his momentum to his advantage and slammed his shoulder into the techpriest's torso, sending both of them sprawling to the floor. Thulsa rolled to the side just as the power axe slammed into the floor where he had been a moment before.
He lashed out with his vibro-cleaver, carving a deep gash across the Magos's power-armoured midsection. The techpriest sent Thulsa flying with an armoured backhand. He landed on his heel, spinning around with power maul at the ready as he skidded to a stop in a low crouch. The Magos's servo-arm gripped his right hand in its vice-like grip.
Thulsa parried the desending power axe with his maul before slamming it into the primary joint of the servo-arm, sending sparks flying. He brought his power maul down again before the techpriest could counter, shearing the servo-arm in half before tearing his arm free. Out of pure instinct he hurled himself backwards, the Magos's power axe missing him by a hair's breath. He rolled to his feet and spat a gobbet of blood onto the ground.
'At last a true fight' Were the words Thulsa muttered softly, rising to his full height. He cut the thick woven cord that held his flakweave trenchcoat to his torso with his vibro-cleaver before shrugging the restrictive garment off his armoured shoulders. He smiled, his lipless mouth curving into a savage grin as his eyes rolled back. Deep within his body, the xeno-crafted chem-gland's sent a fresh cocktail of Hypex, Serpentin, Grave Lotus, Painbringer and Adrenalight directly into his bloodstream.
He allowed both of his weapons clatter to the ground as his blade-tines extended from his fingertips. Each blade-tine was four inches of monomolecular-edged adamantium able to retract fully into the users hand when not in use. Thulsa's had been enhanced with a sub-dermal electro-kenetic dynamo, evidence of this became apparent when arcs of neon-blue lightning played across his outstreached fingers.
The Magos charged, as did Thulsa.
One would live, one would die.
Such was the 34th millennium.