The moon was hidden behind cloud that night and the rain fell, as it always did on Aldebran, or 'Kahynes Slumber' as these talking apes had named it after it was discovered by a ship captained by Elucius Kahynes who died and was laid to rest here, in continual light sheets of smoggy wetness. The kind of rain that falls so lightly it can't be felt, and falls so often it isn't heard. The drops splattered into shallow gouges that had speckled the brick roofing which covered the home of Aldebran's Titan regiment, gouges created by years and years of industrial rains, eating away at the brickwork just like the humans that eat away at the planets they infest.
The smell was something to be believed! The shadow had crouched low on the wall, stock still as the gargoyles of stone that littered the rooftops as far as the eye could see, realised why his brethren had named them Black-water Worlds. Not for the first time since receiving the mission details, the shadow felt elated that so many of these...these Mon'keighs would die before the night was through.
Trooper Cadaz was also feeling in a lamentful mood that night, sighing, he lit a lho-stick - possibly the only benefit of exterior patrol duty! He had stopped by one of the stone figures on the roof edge, staring out over the world he had been bought up on. His trips to the Librarium had told him that once upon a time it wasn't this industrial magnificence that it is today, he sneered at the continual acidic rain, the lack of wildlife, the smell of heavily confined humans and of course the smog laying over the city like a pestilential malignancy in the air...industrial magnificence! To think that mankind had taken Kahynes Slumber from the barren landscape it had been for such a long time and terraformed it into a landscape of wonder, rolling green hills, plants, animals...such was the glory of mankind's abilities when put to good. But, when put to bad, humankind was a devastating power...within only a few thousand years the Adeptus Mechanicous had strip-mined most of the planet and had exterminated all wildlife except for a few species that had fled to the fringes of the giant cities. Course, if you believed the rumours that captured Eldar saboteurs had conceded then even before humans had discovered Kahynes Slumber it had been a lush fertile place although this is widely discredited seeing that as far as records on Terra go back Kahynes Slumber was always a red and dead planet.
He flicked the dead lho-stick over the edge, spat after it for good measure and had continued to trudge along the roof edge, past the stone statues. He too had shared the rain with the roof shadow that fateful night...although he was never aware of the deadly companion. Cadaz stopped near a corner on that sepulchral rooftop halted by a sudden caustic gale that tugged at his foul-weather overcoat biting into his bare neck. Grumbling many obscenities he lit another lho-stick and inhaled, blue smoke billowed from his nostrils, barely visible in the background of smog. He went to take another drag but the lho-stick fell to the floor, still clutched between his dismembered fingers, he turned towards the now visible shadow and tried to shout but the return-swing of the blade was upon him.
It was a short drop, a mere metre or two from the skylight to the darkened corridor, the figure dropped silently to the floor...pistol held out in front...he scanned both lengths of his entrance point. If the rest of the guard were as untrained as the fool on the roof, then this should be an easy mission. Without even trying the infiltrator had slipped past 14 guards, 3 check-points and was now only 4 rooms away from the objective - only then would he know the full specifications of the mission, the objective until now was only to infiltrate the building and reach the fuel store for the Titan legions of Aldebran. Round his neck, covered by a splint of wraith-bone was the remainder of his orders, carefully hidden from prying eyes...only one who has taken the path of enlightenment can unlock its secrets, one who can speak to the wraithbone in a language understood by none and all at once.
Enlightenment would have to wait however, the doorway that had been carefully closed now stood wide open. The dim strip lights flickered to life illuminating a kneeling figure, gaudy colours on a body suit were just visible underneath a dark-grey foul-weather jacket the name tag said "Cadaz, R". Surrounding the lone figure was at least a dozen Imperial Troopers, all looking very incensed for being disturbed near the end of the night-shift...still when better to slip past watching eyes then when the eyes are only half-open.
"You are trespassing on Imperial Property. As acting commander of this base I request that you drop any arms and surrender." As if to reinforce the request the whine of Las-rifles powering up and clacking of bolter pistols being loaded filled the air, but still the figure just...sat. A voice, smooth as oil and framed with an almost melodic note, sailed effortlessly across the room. "Put away YOUR weapons and YOU surrender."
Spluttering obscenities, the Troopers crowded forward, "Hold your places!" bellowed the sergeant. "You," he addressed the individual who was still serenely kneeling "I have asked you to surrender. Now I shall insist that you surrender...don't think you can hide from us, don't think that grey coat hides your true colours. I know what you are you foul xeno..." At this the figure moved like lightening, a perfect mix of speed and composure. Within a heartbeat he had drawn his pistol and had it lying against the cheek of the sergeant.
"You dare to call me foul?! Have you stepped outside this building? Have you seen the filth and muck that hugs this planet like a constricting serpent? We are older than anything you can imagine, we remember the birth of this planet...it was a beautiful world. Plants and animals ran freely, water, pure as the blue sky ran from springs and filled the oceans. Tell me, Mon'keigh, where is it all now? All that I could see through that choking smog was row upon row of blackened buildings back-dropped by that everlasting redness. Terrible machines tearing out what is left from the very heart of this place...and what for? To build more machines of war so that more planets can be disease-ridden by you and your misguided empire. You sicken me, I feel tainted from your mere presence."
The amount of brain matter contained in a race which showed very little mental aptitude was always a paradox to Voraleth, still the Trooper's coat protected him from the worst when the air was filled with blood and gore as he fired, point-blank, into the sergeants face.
Releasing his gun, he dropped into a low crouch...on the way down he flung a handful of shurikens, the same used as ammo for his pistol, towards the huddled group lacerating the faces and bodies of two troopers. Spinning his right foot out in a wide circle, four more troopers were incapacitated as a neural toxin applied to spurs on his boots entered through scratches in their ankles. With half the opposing force dead or dying, Voraleth retrieved his Shuriken Pistol, using the still-twitching body of the sergeant as a springboard Voraleth leapt forward, tumbling through the milling troopers, the overcoat borrowed from Cadaz making it hard to tell enemy from friend in the melee. The guardsmen's nerves were in pieces already, the thought that any of the other people in these close quarters could be the xeno helped the heighten their fear and lower (if that was possible) their intelligence.
"I've got him!" One of the troopers screamed, wrestling on the floor with the great grey cloak previously owned by poor Cadiz. With the help of the remaining able-bodied men they pinned down the fluttering cloak, the one Eldar struggling against the grip of five. A pistol butt was crushed into Voraleth's face though he could not tell where it came from, indeed with his nose broken he could not see very much at all for a few seconds.
"We'll make you suffer now you Emperor-damned xeno, bringing your foulness to our planet! You'll tell us what you were doing here...yes you will...the Inquisition will have whatever's left of you. I doubt they'll mind if we get some payback for Sarge! Maybe we'll start with this lovely face of yours...eye for an eye and all that..."
The words halted in mid-flow as there was a teeth-jarring explosion, it wasn't nearby but from the way the lights started flickering...there had definitely been a colossal detonation somewhere. All thoughts of the alien were left for a short few moments as secondary explosions could be heard, the lights overhead began to flicker and finally ceased to illuminate. From the darkness there came a soft, lilting laughter.
"I still got him!" Called the trooper...they all turned their heads down to check but it was not until the emergency lighting restored vision that they realised..."I don't got him..." The saw the plasma grenade that had been left by Voraleth.