V
Hunters in the Shadow
Begin mental log 1…Officio Assassinorum: Eversor Agent Tiriaq's Log. Imperial Date: 194034.M42. Reporting from Roque System. Planet VII. Roque VII has become a hellish landscape. The forces of Chaos have raped the land, doing what they will with her natural beauty. Smoke spires are most likely not supposed to glow that shade of red, at least not any world I've been too anyway. These monsters have utterly destroyed the populace, signs of Imperial life: minimal. Heretical Units: Maximal. Assessing threat level… Threat Rating: Malleus Extremis. Notes: Proceed with caution; numerous occult and renegade marine factions present. Use hostility sparingly. End Mental log.
The assassin named Tiriaq crouched before the heinous threat before him. He blended in perfectly with the dark, despite the grim, red moonlight bearing down upon him. Tiriaq watched as the armored behemoths beneath and their heretical slaves scuttled about, maintaining a camp of horrors. His helm was not like others of his Assassin type; his grey helm was smooth and rounded on all sides, his mouth covered by a black mockery of a skull's mandible. Two baby-blue lenses, sunken in beneath his more prominent helm formed a vicious, constant glare. The hyper advanced lenses scanned all possible faces in the crowd below. Tiriaq watched, observing their movements for hours, so still it's almost as if he was not alive at all.
After several long hours of assessment, Tiriaq finally stood to his full height, easily 2 meters tall or more, the assassin's extensively muscular body was held tightly by his matte black synskin. He was a shadow standing on a building 100 meters above the foe. His body reflected no light, though as he uncoiled his hands the glint of metal could be seen. Each of his fingers ended in long, razor-sharp blades, laced with potent toxins. Flexing momentarily triggered a muscled activated drug injection directly into Tiriaq's blood flow. He closed his eyes and counted back from ten. When he reached zero his eyes opened to a world of clearer more vivid colors. Time slowed to a crawl. Sounds became twenty times as clear and his vision equally as precise. He smiled beneath his mask and let himself rigidly fall forward.
His body, stiff as a board fell one hundred meters down head first and a rapid speed as he was aerodynamically perfected. The warm wind that struck him flowed slowly over his body, crashing against his near naked form like waves to a beach. The mere seconds it took for him to fall felt like minutes each for Tiriaq. He watched as the camp moved along with their vile activities, not one noticing the hunter in the shadows swooping down like a hawk for its prey. Beneath him stand two renegade Space Marines, their armor blood red and scarred from ages of endless battle. Their forearms and gauntlets were black appear as if dipped in black paint. The same effect was for their boots and shins as well as their all black, hornless helm. A trait uncommon for the followers of chaos.
As he descended onto the crimson traitors he slowly rotated his body focusing on the weak portions of the traitor's armor on the left and contemplating exactly how his comrade would react. Space Marines were very alert and had incredibly potent senses. Tiriaq predicted 1.5 seconds and his prey's associate would notice. Tiriaq was now flying feet first at his prey, his claws slowly extending for the kill. As Tiriaq landed his claws dug deep into the helm of his kill, slicing through the thick skull, black carapace and penetrating the vital brain. Tiriaq held his arms firm against the marine, dragging his claws through his power pack and goring his back, lacerating his many organs and obliterating his bones. Tiriaq withdrew his talons and flung them backward; poising himself for a soft landing, spattering tainted blood against the wall behind him.
Landing gracefully, Tiriaq counted the seconds as the marine beside him turned to notice his bloody comrade falling forward. At 1.5 seconds exactly the marine saw the body and Tiriaq was in his peripheral. Before even bringing his hefty bolter to bear, Tiriaq sprung upward, protruding his middle and forefinger from his left hand and thrusting them into the red lenses of the chaos worshiper. The blades glided smoothly through the warrior's eyes and out the back of his helm. Rapidly withdrawing his hand from his victim, Tiriaq broke out into a run, keeping low and to the shadows. Before the second body had fully collapsed Tiriaq was long out of site and continuing on his mission.
Leon and Ashok sat in the back of a large grav vehicle as it navigated the growingly chaotic streets of Castle Rock. Ashok smoked his increasingly disappointing Skyfall cigar, blowing the smoke out the rolled down window. The interior was large, at least big enough to be comfortable for one completely armored space marine. The interior was black leather; glowing fluorescent lights lined the underside of each seat, giving the floor an eerie glow. In the center a small table with holsters for drinks and other supplies took up majority of the long vehicle. It was needlessly lavish, even for one such as Leon.
Leon watched the hordes of confused and struggling people in the streets, barely getting out of the way of the prestigious vehicle. Behind them a similar grav vehicle filled with Ashok's personal command squad, equipped and ready for any violence, be it alien or human. Before and behind both vehicles a row of two motorcycles being driven by the white and grey uniformed Castle Rock Enforcers, Castle Rock's personal police force. The people looked disheveled and poverty stricken. The definition between the actually poverty ridden and those who have nothing because of the war was indiscernible at times, though each was a sad sight, with or without context.
It wasn't long until the convoy pulled up to the AdministratumBuilding. This mighty, gaudy capitol building stood brightly above the other "skyscrapers" of Castle Rock. Its mighty jade spires reached up to touch the top of the hollowed out mountain. Each tower was tipped and edged with the most elegantly carved and constructed platinum. Windows that rival even the mightiest cathedrals open entire floors to the scope of the city. Two banners kilometers long sit on either side of the building, woven from the finest jade colored fabrics and trimmed with more platinum spun into fibers and woven into eloquent patterns. At the center of the left tapestry the traditional emblem of the Imperial Aquila is adorned at the center. The heart of the eagle was the same green forming a perfect circle, at the center of the circle the jagged, High Gothic "A" of the Administratum. The right banner was quite different, the symbol, also mostly woven in platinum was a symbol Leon did not recognize, and assumed it was the planetary symbol for Skyfall. The symbol was a large, grid like sphere, as if imitating a globe. Within the sphere three diamond shapes, each a different color, were laid in a specific "V" pattern.
"I've been meaning to ask, Commander," Leon spoke for the first time since entering the car. "What is with all the silver? It seems your entire town is coated in it."
"It's not silver it's platinum." Ashok corrected his voice monotone and tired from the gruesome events of yesterday "It's our planet's primary resource and largest export. We put the damn thing in everything. Vehicles, weapons, computers, clothing. You name it we put that expensive shit in it."
As they talked the convoy entered the massive gates of the Administratum's courtyard. All around them, easily thousands of protesting and furious civilians fought at the platinum coated guards, attempting to gain access to the building and get a piece of the greedy adepts and politicians within. Their vehicle itself was bombarded with refuse and rotted food. Leon still glancing at the civilians saw the masses giving unruly gestures and shouting the vilest curses at the Captain's black, shady grav car. Normally taken aback by such behavior, Leon understood at this time; Things are beyond hellish. He thought These people deserve much better than this Tyranid scum.
The convoy came to a halt at the main driveway before the many granite steps that lead to the massive ebony doors of the Capitol. The servitor driver exited the vehicle and limped to the door; his metallic components too coated in the seemingly plentiful element and was wearing a jade suit, unusual attire for a servitor but none the less unexpected. The machine-man opened the door and bowed to his masters as they exited. Ashok was first to exit, the roars of anger and fiery rebellion only seemed to be fanned by his presence. He smiled smugly and tugged at his robes.
"Always good to receive a warm welcome." He said sarcastically as a dirty can flew at him striking him in the head and knocking his sunshades off.
"Back off!" shouted one of his Soldiers's raising his lasgun at the crowd and receiving no reaction.
"Its fine, lad." Ashok said picking up his shades "Don't waste your breath."
The command squad still aimed their guns at the horde of dissidents awaiting retaliation as Leon exited the vehicle. The bulky marine had some issues standing up out of the low riding vehicle, the grav thruster struggling to keep his side of the vehicle balanced as he rose. Leon now stood at his full height, he was not wearing his helm or his hood but his size and his mighty ancient suit of power armor seemed to strike a fear of the Emperor's wrath into the agitators. The crowd grew silent and several seemed to flee, be it from respect or fear. The crowd remained so until they had entered the building.
Upon approaching the tops of the steps, They were met by roughly a half dozen sparkling Honor Guard, their helmets adorning a smooth, mirror-like platinum visor, rendering others incapable of determining their face.
"I'm sorry, gentlemen." Spoke the man in the center "You'll have to relinquish your weapons. Governesses orders."
Grunting in frustration, Ashok removed his elaborately embroidered chainsword scabbard and handed the weapon over as well as the holster with his antiquated plasma pistol. Ashok then passed the soldier to where two other Guard were carrying metal scanners. Leon began walking with Ashok but was stopped by a rather daring hand on his elbow. Turning to look at the man, he seemed to reel back a bit and his voice shriveled like a grape in the sun.
"I-I'm sorry, m-my lord." He stammered "Governess's orders, you must relinquish your weapon to the Honor Guard."
"Son, this weapon is older than your whole lineage." Leon retorted.
"It's protocol, lord Astartes." Squeaked another female Guard.
"Alright then." He said staring down at the Guards and holding his arms out wide "Take it from me."
The two Honor Guard looked at each other for several long seconds; neither dare make a move to take the mighty Astartes' relic.
"I didn't think so." Leon said arrogantly turning to the doors. Meanwhile, Ashok stood, trying to repeatedly empty his pockets of any possible metal items he has including his cigar tin, wallet and pocket chrono.
"Are you about done yet?" he barked at the Guard, who continually waved the wands up and down his body.
"You appear to be all clear, Commander." He finally said standing at attention "You're permitted to enter."
The soldier then turned and looked up to the Captain before looking past him to see the other two soldiers shaking their heads.
"So you going to frisk me, boy?" he spat
"No, my lord," the Guard replied attempting to maintain his cool "You're permitted to enter, my lord."
The two commanders of two very different calibers passed by the security and made their way into the grand hall, the massive ebony doors slamming shut behind them.
"How often does shit like that happen?" Ashok said, pocketing his now extinguished cigar
"Less than you'd think, but more often than you'd hope." The goliath replied
"And it pays off…" continued Ashok
"Every damn time." Leon laughed.
The enormous entryway of the building was laid with the finest marble and granite for the floors and walls. Gaudy symbols of Imperial Governments and Matriarchy adorn every corner of the impressive building. A massive marble staircase follows along the walls, curving up to the other floors. The vaulted ceiling stretches for a kilometer or two before the upper floors come into play. A mighty chandelier made of the rarest crystals dangles from the ceiling, shining bright light through a matrix of prisms.
Coming down the staircase, a group of prestigious looking individuals accompanied by a collection of several platinum Honor Guard appeared to the two commanders. At the head of the group of pungently smug individuals stood a dark skinned man with a bionic eye, his head wrapped in a golden shawl.
"Director Avahkian, I'm assuming?" Leon said as the group approached.
"Yes Indeed, and I assume you are Captain Leon, no?" replied the Director waving his fellow dignitaries off, the Honor Guard staying close to the Director. "And please, call me Ahmet; there are far too many more serious matters to focus on than titles and formality."
"Agreed." Said Leon
"Good to see you again, Ahmet." Spoke Ashok, feeling somewhat left out. "I just wish it could be on a lighter hearted occasion."
"As do we all my friend." The thick accented man said solemnly. "Though you men didn't take all this time out of your busy schedules to come speak with an old politician did you? This way."
Ahmet lead the two generals up the stair case for several flights, Ashok having to take several short breaks before they reached the top. The railings of the stair case were made of fine woods and metals, each centimeter of the hand rail carved meticulously by the finest artisans money can afford. Leon admired it as he climbed feeling the details with his sensitive gauntlets. Before long they had reached the Governess's office. As they approached a collection of specially uniformed Enforcers accompanied by uniquely equipped servitors flooded the wide hall. The people and their cybernetic servants flitted in and out of the room collecting evidence and samples of the chaos that ensued less than a day ago.
A duo of servitors being lead by an Enforcer wheeled a grav cart out of the room, a white tarp laid over the mass beneath, bloodstains beginning to form about wounds of the corpse.
"May I?" Leon asked approaching the Enforcer, who nodded in compliance. Leon lifted the sheet to see the body of a young woman clad in the signature armor of Skyfall Honor Guard. Her breastplate was punctured; whatever had hit her was a force strong enough to demolish platinum plated Carapace armor and managed to penetrate through her back in a single hit, eviscerating her innards. He dropped the sheet and gestured them to continue.
Leon looked into the room where the other two men already stood. Ashok observed the grisly mayhem with a look of astonishment and bone-chilling dread. The room was as gaudy as the rest of the Governess's palace, though this one had been turned into a gruesome display of savage murder. Gore and blood-spatter coated the walls, paintings and furniture. The remaining corpses were left untouched, awaiting the investigators' approval. They were grey and cold, Rigormorits having long since kicked in.
"Who could have done this?" Ashok asked.
"We have processed some of the security camera's footage, but we have very little to work off of, it appears to be some sort of creature." Replied Ahmet concernedly.
One soldier drew Leon's attention, a soldier who lay almost completely intact, but his face was a ghoulish sight to behold. Leon approached, kneeling down to him and looked at the corpse at first only noticing the wound in his leg, which has long since become pus ridden and bloated due to the powerful toxins. Leon then looked at the head of the soldier; he noticed the massive puncture in his skull, the insides of which appeared hollow. Leon placed two of his gauntleted fingers into the wound as deep he could before removing them. Only coagulated blood came out, not a single fragment of brain. Leon stared at this for several long seconds, rubbing the gooey ichors together with his thumb.
"Ahmet," he said standing and turning to the others. "I need to see that footage."
"Of course," he said handing him a data-slate, Leon dwarfing it with his large hands "I took the liberty of having some of the boys in record keeping transfer it to a data-slate in preparation of your arrival. It turns out one of them worked in the Strategic Collective. This is what he managed to get."
Ashok and Leon observed as Ahmet started the replay of the grainy footage. The camera was fixed in the upper right corner of the room giving a minute vantage point. They witnessed a digitized blur leap from behind Amira's desk and puncture that same woman's chest through her back, launching her to the other end of the room. The blur seemed to move, a man suddenly severed at the midsection. The third knocked down, blood jetting from a massive strike downward at his chest.
The creature suddenly became clear, and Ashok gasped in horror, Leon's worries becoming proved as he saw the creature for what it was. After the Tyranid fired its spine's its stepped out of view before completely leaving the frame. The reinforcements entered and ran to attend the Governess and their fallen comrades. As they enter the digitized blur appears again, the digital camera picking up movement and reflective light only. The blur seems to follow along the left wall, exiting the room undetected.
"What, the hell was that…thing?" Ashok stammered, suddenly feeling nervous and paranoid.
"It's a Lictor," Leon spoke wiping his jaw with his clean hand worriedly "That's what it is."
"What is a lector, Captain?" asked Ahmet.
"Lictor, it's Lictor." Leon began, pacing around the room as he talked "It's a visceral killing machine like no other. Tyranid hives form these creatures first and send them to the planet weeks if not months in advance. They act as reconnaissance and assassins. Doing all the wet work to assess and destabilize a population before the invasion even happens."
"Assassin?" question Ashok "This thing had two opportunities to kill the Governess but it didn't. That's a pretty poor assassin if you ask me."
"Yea, you're right. It didn't kill her and that's why it bothers me." Leon says halting in his spot and noticing the black orbs in the upper corners of the room. "Where's the other footage?"
"Other footage?" questioned Ahmet
"Don't play dumb with me Director I'm not in the mood." Snapped Leon "I see four cameras and we only have footage from one, where's the rest?"
"We've been having some issue with the catacombs, technical bugs nothing serious." Ahmet says nervously
"Technical bugs? What kind of technical bugs?" pressed Ashok, seeing through Ahmet's guise.
"There were a series of murders in the Catacombs, matching the methods seen here but not anywhere near this scale. We thought it was gangs from the underhive trying to send a message." Revealed Ahmet, looking extremely distressed.
"How many murders?" grunted Leon placing a palm on scarred his face, refusing to look at the Director.
"Uh, around twenty or so? Is that bad?"
"Twenty?" Leon snapped again
"People are dying during a war and you don't think to tell the PDF?" barked Ashok. "A message was sent alright, this planet is run by a bunch of boneheads!"
"So what do these people have to do with the footage?" Leon ordered, agitated
"Some of the power lines in the catacombs were cut it's been causing major power issues through out the Administration district of Castle Rock. The people killed were mostly electrical engineers. Again, we thought it was the gangs." Replied Ahmet pointing the camera that caught the footage "That camera is on a back up battery incase of a situation like this. The others…"
"Where's the Governess?" Leon said angrily marching out of the room, Ashok hot on his heels.
"I-in her suite on the top level," Ahmet stammered following after the Commanders "But she strictly asked not to be disturbed. She's still very shaken up."
"Tough luck for everyone these days, it seems." Returned Ashok igniting his half-finished cigar. "Your tone is distressing me, Captain. You have something on your mind. Care sharing that with me?"
"This thing isn't an ordinary Lictor." He began "Downing power, killing ratings, murdering guards; those are terror tactics. No this is something much worse."
"Forget I asked then." The commander replied taking puff of his cigar.
"Tyranid hives can form different strains." Continued the Captain ignoring Ashok's sarcasm. "This one, I've seen this before, but only once. It was on Medusa V. It didn't just murder people. It used its abilities to pick off those close to the commanding officers until they were little more than balls of nerve and paranoia. It ruined more tactics than I care to count. The Guardsmen gave it the name 'Deathleaper'. Like some sort of storybook villain."
"So this thing is a Tyranid terrorist?" Ashok asked, huffing and puffing his way up the stairway behind Leon.
"Of sorts, yes." Leon said "But if this thing gets its way it will tear Skyfall apart from the inside out."
Captain Abdul made his way down the armament halls of the Grim Singer. The massive compartment filled with serfs and personnel attempting to prep weapons and repair damage in preparation of the upcoming hive fleet. Abdul's men knew as well as any the grievous nature of upcoming threat. The bulk of this fleet would be triple if not larger than the vanguard, and the Imperial defense barely survived that. It was in moments of great stress like this that Abdul needed the guidance of a true friend. He was well aware that he would be mad about awaking him before a battle, oh how he enjoyed his rest, but there was nowhere else to turn.
The Invader entered the end of the armament halls, a collection of massive chambers extended to the end of the deck. Each enclosed by massive doors bearing the symbol of the Invaders. Abdul reached the second one on the right and entered the access codes. The pressurized seal hissed and white vapor began pouring out the cracks as the doors slowly split open. Abdul entered the dark chamber, the icy room causing Abdul to see his breath; the freezing air biting at Abdul's tan face and chilling the two service studs in his brow. Though his sealed armor kept his body plenty warm, the presence within the room filled him with a chilling feeling, like seeing a spirit.
Before him stood a hulking figure; a massive emerald machine, standing on two piston driven legs that hold its kilotons for weight. At the center of the boxy machine's main body sit a golden trimmed sarcophagus, a small view hole at the top so that the marine within could see out in times of battle. The machine laid dormant, ice collecting on the edges of its massive ceramite hull. Coils and wires of all sizes connect to the missing arms of the machine and to the sarcophagus itself maintaining the occupant's slumber.
Abdul smiled a bit as he began pressing buttons the Dreadnaught activation console. The coils jerked, and a whirring noise of the machine powering started from a low droning noise to a loud boom. Suddenly thick smoke began jettisoning from the exhaust pipes on the behemoth's back. A loud sigh, delivered through an external vox speaker could be heard. The machine moved, stepping forward slowly, chunks of ice falling from its massive form. It took a second step, as far as the coils would allow it. Abdul stepped in front of the automaton with a grin, his mighty lightening claws held patiently behind his back.
"It's good to see you again, Jiadev." The man within the machine spoke finally "It has been too long."
"Indeed it has, Hisien." Abdul said grinning wider.
Jiadev Abdul sat there holding the dead child for what felt like an eternity awaiting death, a bolt pistol pressed tightly against his brow. He heard the hammer drop and the bolt pistol fired as well as the sound of several other weapons. A great pain streaked across Jiadev's forehead, causing him to drop in pain. He lay there still, still breathing. Sparing a glance at the traitor marine, he turned to see the soldier collapse to his knees, the upper half of his head demolished by enemy fire. The bleeding corpse fell over beside Jiadev, spouting blood from its stump of a head.
Still holding the child's corpse, Jiadev held his palm against his scalp, wincing in pain as he touched the wound. Retracting his hand he saw blood, but there was no major wound, only a graze. His head still ringing from the sound of the gunshot, a muffled sound of a voice and the crunching of gravel could be heard. Jiadev looked back and saw Maximus Kodey approaching him holding his power fist against his bleeding neck, his modified storm bolter smoking from the barrel.
"You got lucky there, mate." Kodey seemingly mumbled, looking down at Jiadev. The Invader said nothing; he felt he had nothing to say. Kodey looked at the fallen Ogyrsian child and her mangled family.
"I can not speak for us all, brother." Kodey spoke his voice, however strained and horse from the gunshot wound, seemed soft and reassuring "But you suffer no blame from me."
Kodey shouldered his storm bolter and held out his free hand to Jiadev. He glanced once more at the child before laying her down with her fallen family, all of which who died at his hands. Jiadev grabbed Kodey's crimson vambraces and rose with him.
"There is nothing more you can do for them, brother." Kodey spoke again with a rasp. "What's done is done."
"Are there any others?" Jiadev finally spoke, his voice heavy with sorrow.
"No." replied the raspy voice of Kodey, checking the palm of his power fist to see his advanced physiology had clotted the wound "They're gone, my Redeemers… dead."
"What about Hisien?" Jiadev shouted before bolting to the fallen statue. "Hisien! Hisien are you alive?"
Jiadev began searching through the field of corpses, both Traitor and loyal. Jiadev now saw when he left the statue that the enemy had moved in for an assault, slaughtering the defenders. Placing his hands on his head and screaming in anger, Jiadev felt broken, his morale utterly destroyed. Suddenly a gurgling cough cut through the silence. Jiadev and Kodey rapidly moved to the source. Leaning against the massive granite statue they saw an emerald armored marine, battered and bloody, holding a grievous gunshot wound to his chest.
"Hisien!" Jiadev shouted before feeling great sorrow at the sight of his friends wound. "Hisien! Hang in their, brother, we'll get you help."
"I-I can't f-feel anything." Hisien exclaimed "I-I can't move."
"Then we'll carry your ass out of here!" Jiadev shouted gesturing to Kodey "Help me pick him up we can get him back to the encampment."
"Brother Abdul that's almost 30km from here there's no telling if he'll even last that long." Argued Kodey, helping none the less.
"We have to try." Jiadev said placing the marine's arm over his shoulder "It's what separates us from them."
Jiadev pointed with his head to the fallen traitor marine. A marine in black armor with a helm and shin guards of sliver that seemed to shine blue. The symbol on the gored warrior's shoulder guard was a silver scorpion. A symbol that belonged to their former companions and members of the Edina Council; the Scorpion Guard. These warriors once represented the spirit of vengeance and stood for the Imperium against insurmountable odds. When an enemy of the Imperium invaded an unprotected world the Scorpion Guard would retaliate, driven by His holy wrath. Kodey questioned how something so righteous could become completely lost and corrupted.
"Alright," spoke Jiadev grabbing Kodey's attention again "On my count. 1…2…3!"
The two mighty Astartes grunted as they hefted the full weight of a suit of power armor and the dead weight of the dying marine within. Jiadev picked up Hisien's black cased bolter, tucking it in the crook of his arm and using all his available strength to carry his comrade.
"Th-this is going to r-ruin my whole day." Joke Hisien coughing in pain, causing Jiadev to smile a bit. The three loyalist soldiers pressed on for kilometers, avoiding any of the growing noises of war. They kept to the shadows and avoided open spaces, often cutting through the ruined buildings. As they walked the witnessed the atrocities of the traitors; hundreds of Ogyrsian corpses of all sexes and ages litter the killing fields, scattered amongst them are the bodies of Loyalist and Traitor alike. The men pressed on, trying to ignore the grim, ash covered casualties of this meaningless war.
As the group of entered a half destroyed office building of some sort, the barely conscious Hisien began coughing and gagging, blood dripping from the grill of his rebreather and from underneath his helm. His protectors halted and lowered him to the ground aware he was getting worse.
"Remove his helm, he's vomiting blood." Ordered Kodey ripping the strap off with his power fist letting Jiadev easily remove the helm. Beneath it was a oddly pale faced man, his body draining of his vital fluids every second. He appeared younger than the others, most likely the youngest tactical marine in 7th company. His hair was short and black, his eyes a crystalline hazel, now fluttering and dilated from his injury. Hisien had been inducted as a space marine long after Jiadev, he was always overly cautious and timid, Jiadev helped break him of many of those traits. Part of Jiadev blamed himself now for pressuring his younger Battle-Brother to be so reckless. Perhaps it was going to be his downfall as well.
"He's going into shock," Kodey said opening his eyes and looking at the fully dilated pupil. "And his blood isn't clotting fast enough. He's going to die if we don't get him help soon."
"We're no where near the damn, base!" shouted Jiadev, slapping Hisien's face to keep him conscious "Come on, brother. This is nothing! You've suffered worse!"
"You think I don't know that?" replied Kodey, getting frustrated with the younger marine. "Hell I'm not even sure if we're going the right direction anymore."
Jiadev heard a distinct humming sound of thrusters, charging out into the streets, despite Kodey's protesting shouts. In the rubble of the massive road, Jiadev spotted an emerald gunship flying scouting only a few blocks down the road.
"Hey!" Jiadev shouted raising his bolter into the air and firing several burst shots. "Hey over here!"
"Abdul what the hell are you doing? If that's a traitor ship we're done for!" barked Kodey, shaking the slowly dying Hisien.
"What other option do we have?" Jiadev barked back, firing the rest of the clip into the air. A few seconds after the last shot, the ship halted in its path and pivoted in their direction, the Storm talon gunship speeding toward Jiadev. He stood in the open, completely vulnerable, waving his arms in the air in effort to flag the ship down. To show he was loyalist, Jiadev placed the bolter down and continued waving. Kodey felt the tension rise as the ship approached further, the Invader completely unprotected.
The Invaders' Stormtalon slowed to a stop, and intersection between them. Its nose reared up as it halted and the thrusters on either side of the gunship lowering, putting it into a hover mode. The ship hovered for several moments before Jiadev's inner ear vox unit cackled to life.
"State you designation." The pilot commanded.
"Brother Jiadev Abdul of the Invaders 7th company." He replied loudly "With me is Veteran-Sergeant Maximus Kodey of the Crimson Paladins, and Brother Hisien, also of the Invaders. He is extremely wounded, we need medical evac immediately!"
The line stayed silent for several minutes, the green gunship hovering ominously across from him.
"Come on, come on." Jiadev muttered beneath his breath, nervously.
"Affirmative, Brother Abdul." The pilot replied "Help is on the way."
Jiadev sighed in a moment of relief as the gunship flew up over the buildings and powered toward its direction of origin. Not ten minutes after the encounter with the Stormtalon, a medicae Rhino baring the colors of the Invaders powered through the terrain. The rhino crushed its way carelessly into the office building crushing a traitor's corpse with ease. The skilled pilot pivoted the vehicle before its halt, the rear hatch bursting open, an Apothecary adorned in his signature white armor, a combat squad of Loyalist marines following in close suit, and two chapter Serfs emerged, the surfs pushing an industrial gurney made for the space marines and their bulky armor. The serfs, the apothecary, Jiadev and Kodey all worked together, lifting Hisien onto the gurney before pushing him into the rhino. As the door shut, the whirring chainblade attached to the Apothecary's Narthecium could be heard sawing into Hisien's shattered breastplate. The rhino peeled off back to the encampment, leaving the two warriors coughing in it's the grey dust.
Two well-armed, platinum guards stood on either side of the eloquent, white, wooden door to the Governess's residence. A carved mural of the winged Saint Anais in her hour of martyr during the Kaurava Crusades was depicted on the 5 meter tall double doors. With Captain Leon approaching rapidly, a rather unpleasant look on his scarred but otherwise striking face, the two guards attempted to intercept.
"My Lord, you are not allowed access to the Governess's quarters-" One began to speak. Leon with ease pushed the Guard aside and approached the door. His mighty gauntlet engulfed the golden handle, breaking the antiquated lock with a single turn of his wrist. Leon pushed the gaudy door open and entered the lavish chamber, the winded Commander Tahmid close behind. Amira jumped as the two commanders barged in, standing in haste to see who intruded. She let out a sigh of relief, placing her delicate hand on her rapidly beating heart and sheepishly disposing of a lho-stick into an ashtray with her other hand.
"Oh Captain Leon I was not expecting you." She said seemingly out of breath. She was not a nearly as well kept or dignified as she normally looked. She wore only a very casual, relaxation robe. Bags were heavy and dark beneath her eyes, with no indication to cover it up cosmetically. As well, her skin was bare of any obvious attempts to remove or replace her facial make-up, rendering her normally russet skin oddly pallid. Her long black hair was left down and didn't appear to even be brushed. She bowed her head politely attempting to still seem cordial despite her appearance and demeanor.
"A pleasure to see you, as well, Commander." She continued with a bright, if not forced, smile.
"As always, my lady." Ashok said flirtatiously with a bow at the waist.
"I apologize to barge in Governess," Leon said quickly throwing his hands up in the sign of the Aquila. He turned to Ashok who was finishing his bow. Awkwardly, Leon lowered his hands to his sides and bowed at the waist as well, as to not offend the Governess's customs. "But I need to speak with you about yesterday's events."
"Ah," she said, the memories of the horror imbedded deep into the forefront of her mind. "Would you care for a drink?"
Amira crossed to the left wall of the room, passing through the arrangement of pristine white couches in the front room. She approached a small divot with a mini-bar made of granite imbedded in it. She opened a crystal bottle filled with a ruby liquid and poured some of the contents into a, doubtlessly costly, crystal glass.
"With all do respect Governess," Leon began slowly moving toward her "But we are very short on time as it is, and there are vital needs we must discuss."
"Well then its only customary we share it over a drink." She said pouring two more glasses of the thick, reddish liquor. "You are in my house after all you must follow my rules."
Amira handed the captain his drink and moved to Ashok, handing him one as well. Leon met eyes with Ashok, a look of growing frustration clearly visible. Ashok, shrugged and took a sip of the potent fluid, his face too construed with confusion. The Governess's sat down crossing her slender legs gracefully and sipping her liquor. She gestured to the two commanders to sit on the apish couches across from her. Ashok sat down without question, Leon stood there frozen in the thought of the Governess's strange attitude.
"I doubt those your furnishings could-" began Leon, suddenly self-conscious of his size.
"I insist, Captain." Amira Persisted.
Aware there was no way to win with this woman unless he followed her every whim, Leon crossed to the couches and hesitantly sat down, the antique wood splintering under his weight. Amira sipped her drink and admired the fluid spinning it around to test the legs.
"Alright then," Leon said still a bit puzzled but still pressing the matter at hand "We… I have reason to believe-"
"Damn this is good." Amira spoke up cutting off Leon as if on purpose "Donation from Canoness Brigitta. The Order of the Valorous Heart had stationed themselves here after a very nasty crusade in order to heal and return to battle. The Canoness gave me this as a token of her thanks; Alto Wine made from the finest fruits available on Ophillia VII and aged to perfection. Have you tried yours yet Captain, it's quite-"
"Governess!" barked Leon angrily attempting to stop her digression, startling both Amira and Ashok. Leon cleared his throat and continued more calmly. "Apologies but you were rambling. I completely understand why you're upset, my lady-"
"Upset?" Amira turned to the Captain, placing her wine down looking as if finding his ignorance amusing "You think I'm upset?"
The diplomat stood and began pacing, searching for her pack of lho-sticks. She retrieved one and lit it, turning to the captain, shaking with rage.
"Upset, is when the tithe is a unit short and I get a nasty message from the Adeptus Terra." She began, her voice on the verge of breaking "Upset is when there's an accident on the highway and I'm going to be late for an important engagement. Upset is when they purchase the wrong type of wine for a very important ball. This…"
Amira shook her head taking a draw of her lho-stick, her eyes welting with tears. She turned away from the commanders so they could not see her in her moment of most human weakness.
"This is not upset." She said softly, fighting back the urge to cry.
Leon and Ashok held their heads low. Both soldiers of grim battle, they so often forgot the effect of these events on the civil populace. Placing his drink down, Leon stood the wood creaking as he rose. He approached the lithe woman, placing his mighty gauntlet hesitantly on her shoulder. She turned slightly, her eyes bloodshot.
"Ma'am I cannot ever begin to understand what you're feeling." He admitted. "I am a warrior surrounded by death from a very young age. Suffering is in my blood. But its not in yours, you are much more delicate than that."
Leon pulled her chin toward him, turning her so he was looking into her red eyes. The towering marine knelt down so she was looking at down at him only slightly.
"You and your people are not meant for this," he continued, speaking softly "And they are just as terrified as you. It is of utmost importance that you maintain yourself at this time. It may seem a lofty thing to ask for but your people need you."
"That being said," Leon continued his face forming to a frown "This creature, this is not an ordinary creature. It's been called many things but one that always remains is Deathleaper. It is not going to kill you, it has no gain from that. Its duty, its sole reason for existence is to destabilize the population, to cause panic, fear and paranoia. All things you undoubtedly feel right now. You cannot let these emotions win. If you let this creature's presence get the better of you it gets what it wants, what the entire Hive wants. You must stay strong. You must if not for your own sanity for the people of your world."
"What if I can't?" she began to sob feeling the weight of his statement "How can I stay vigilant with that things slaughtering those around me, and what if I'm not fit to lead during a war."
"You are." He said standing. "I know it to be true. You are not just some woman of Skyfall, you are the woman of Skyfall. You'd not be here if you weren't."
"Thank you, Captain." She said wiping her tears and smiling "That was very nice to hear for once."
"I have spoken to the others in the Headquarters' Staff. Captain Abdul, Colonel Cyprian, Commander Tahmid and my self are requisitioning a squad of our best men each to guard the city, yourself and your cabinet. In addition we suggest an early nightly curfew for the citizens and patrols of 3 or more Enforcers and Guard, no less. The Deathleaper doesn't attack large groups unless it feels it has an advantage. Its smart, but its still an animal, and I believe we can outwit this thing."
Amira nodded in compliance, biting her lip nervously in thought.
"You're right, Captain. I will put the orders in immediately. Nightly watch will be doubled- no tripled! I refuse to let my city fall out of my grasp." She said feeling slightly more confident.
Leon let a smile show in the corner of his mouth at her change in tone and body language.
"Alright then," he said bowing at the waist. "With that, we should leave you to your duties."
Leon turned to exit the room, his cream robes drifting behind his stride. Ashok stood and bowed as well giving the Governess a warming smile before following the Space Marine out the lavish doorway. The Guards turned their heads into the room attempting to avoid looking directly at the more exposed and less dignified Governess.
"You alright, my lady?" one said concernedly
"Quite, yes." She said shortly, "Thank you, and please close my chamber, will you?"
With an echoing slam, the doors shut, Amira leaning against the granite island in her kitchenette and letting go a quivering sigh. She continued to breathe sporadically, pacing a bit rapidly smoking her lho-stick. Her eyes darted around the room as she marched without rhyme, nor reason. She finally arrived at the small living room area, quickly drinking the remainder of her wine without pause for flavor. She then grabbed both the commanders' drinks, finishing Tahmid's in a gulp and proceeding on to Leon's.
Halfway through the glass her eyes darted to her left. She choked, spitting wine and stumbling. She looked up at the corner of her room, shaking in dread but refusing to look away as well. She seemed to boil with fear and rage simultaneously.
"They're gone, okay?" she snapped with rising fury and welting tears "They're gone! Leave! Please!"
The Governess screamed in panicked wrath, tossing the glass at the corner of the room. The crystalline goblet shattering against something, spilling the remainder of the auburn fluid through out the room. Amira dropped to her knees, crying uncontrollably, hiding what she saw with her hands, praying to the Emperor quietly. An organic chirping noise like that of a baritone cricket came from the emptiness of the left wall. Amira looked up and saw the two rows of three bright blue eyes staring at her as they had been for the past five hours or longer. The form of the creature outlined due to a thin layer of auburn wine spattered against it.
"What do you want from me!?" she bellowed. It chirped again as if in response. The two guards burst into the room and guttural screams of death echoed through the halls.
Tiriaq danced through the group of heretics swinging his talons elegantly, cleaving limbs off with every strike. Their skill so unmatched it was almost comical to Tiriaq. The cultists wildly swung their clubs and knives and fired their primitive auto-pistols in an effort to hit the dancing shadow, each attempt a failure. Tiriaq dodged and leapt over every swing with grace immediately taking advantage of the opening for attack; puncturing chests, cleaving off portions of their arms and finally silencing them with a ginger deathblow to the cranium.
Spinning on the balls of his feet and bringing his claws to bear, Tiriaq stopped, holding himself prepared for the cultists' retaliation: there was none. The corpses of roughly ten sub-par thugs collapsed seemingly all at once, gushing gouts of blood from their stumps and grievous lacerations. He watched as the head from his last kill landed beside its falling owner, a stump jetting with blood where the cranium should be.
Raising his arms and quickly snapping them down to clear the adamantine claws of blood, Tiriaq turned away and darted down his path. He ran for several more minutes, feeling like hours in his drug educed state. Hearing voices off in the distance, he halted and held himself tightly around the corner of a near-by building. The voices became clearer and completely audible, without seeing them he could tell the demeanor of each of the three men by voice alone; one choleric and easily set-off, most likely a warrior through and through. Another was elegant and sanguine, a pleasure cultist if there ever was one. Lastly was a sophisticated and educated tone, a scholar or sorcerer. Each spoke with an air of combative authority; all of them were leaders of one sort or another, each of them holding distain for one another.
Turning only a degree to give himself a view, he could see they were exactly as predicted; a red warrior, a black thrill-seeker, and a blue Sorcerer. Each wore a suit of desecrated Space Marine armor, each gaudily adorned with the different symbols and trophies of their patron gods. It sickened Tiriaq.
"It seems our… my master has been delayed in his return here for around four more short weeks." Spoke the sorcerer. "It will be most difficult to continue without him. But we must proceed. We are pressed for time gravely"
"Indeed," replied the cultist of excess "As it stands several of our men have been disappearing. I believe we are already in the eye of the Hive Fleet."
"Without a doubt," added the Warrior "I've done my best to prepare my warriors for a Genestealer incursion but we alone cannot stand against a hive fleet."
"No need to worry." The Sorcerer said assumingly "As long as the Corpse-God Worshipers are focused with Skyfall the Hive Fleet will be more than pre-occupied. By the time the hive shifts focus we'll be long gone"
"Let's just hope the Imperial dogs aren't completely devoured before we get our chance to strike." The cultist laughed.
The three champions of Chaos went their separate ways, the Sorcerer heading toward Tiriaq. The assassin quickly blended back against the shadows, slowing his breath to a shallow halt. Several seconds after the Sorcerer passed, Tiriaq released his breath. The Sorcerer appeared to be holding a small rectangular box in the crook of his arm. He watched the Sorcerer enter a building a few hundred meters away, a pair of blue armored behemoths guarding the doorway.
Begin Mental Log 7…Officio Assassinorum: Eversor Agent Tiriaq's log… My suspicions have been confirmed; Roque VII is now confirmed as a Genestealer infested world. Increase Threat Rating to Malleus Extremis/Xenos Extremis. Overall Threat Rating: Majoris Terminus. I've spotted what I believe to be Sorcerer Valerio. I also overheard a conversation involving two other Chaos Captains; they predict Sorcerer Lord Nowell Samuels' arrival in four weeks. Assuming they're using Roque VII time that puts his arrival at roughly 320-326034.M42. That's our window. Following suspect sorcerer into a refinery office, carrying a box, looked important. End Log.
Tiriaq pressed his heels against the wall he leaned upon, leaping with great speed and height to a nearby light pole. Perched atop it, he scanned the faces of those near. Only two within visible line of sight were the blue Space Marines Guarding his entrance. With another bounding leap, Tiriaq landed on an olden generator shack, abandoned long before the traitors attacked Roque VII. The clamor of his landing attracted the attention of the blue soldiers. The two looked at each other seeming to communicate silently and one approached the origin of the noise.
Thinking quickly, Tiriaq dropped down, his body flat with the roof of the shack. The marine now stood before the shack, ignorant to the assassin's position. The goliath warrior booted down the sealed metal door, entering the generator room and inspecting the contents, aiming down the iron sights of his boltgun all the while. The remaining soldier stood vigilant and unmoving beneath the spotlight. With a vast leap, Tiriaq jumped from the shack silently and landed a few meters from the marine, immediately bursting into a sprint. The marine reacted quicker than he expected, immediately turning to Tiriaq and firing a burst shot of enchanted bolts. Each shot was pin-point accurate but Tiriaq could easily dodge every shot. After a mere three second charge, Tiriaq lunged his blades into the breast plate of the behemoth, slamming his weight against the metal door. Instead of collapsing in deathly throes or even screaming in pain, the warrior just stood straight again and withdrew its combat blade, swiping it down at Tiriaq.
The assassin quickly withdrew his talons and ducked from the arc of the blade. As he rose again, Tiriaq swiped his claws upward, slashing massive gouges into the blue and gold breast plate of the traitor marine. Again, surviving wounds a mortal should not, the warrior simply stood again and prepared to strike. As the seemingly immortal marine raised its arm to strike, Tiriaq swiped his claws horizontally, obliterating the visor of the automaton's elegant helm. At last the warrior collapsed, not a drop of blood present. The warrior from the shack began marching toward Tiriaq, a hideous, terrifying screech coming from its external vox and firing wide with his bolter. The assassin quickly darted into the office building, willing to take his chances with what was inside than face any reinforcement of those bizarre soldiers.
Within lay a cold, damp and dark office; its contents scattered about, completely untouched for months and collecting dust. Sparing no time, Tiriaq dug his claws into a nearby metal desk and dragged its bulk infront of the metal door. Seconds later the door was slammed against, only cracking a bit, the angry hiss of the automaton seeping through the opening. Tiriaq bolted for cover huddling against the shadows. The door was slammed against several more times, louder and more violently slow each attempt. In a few moments, a contingent of Tzeentchian warriors burst through the door, knocking the desk aside and began patrolling for the infiltrator. The lumbering behemoths walked down each corridor of desks in their search. Tiriaq looked around the room rapidly moving very subtling and making no noise. His eyes landed upon a cracked door against the far wall, the word "Basement" embedded in its bulk. It was his best chance for escape.
Tiriaq waited for the spectral soldiers to make another pass and leapt softly from his shadowy haven to another collection of shadow. In a moment he was at the door. As the door creaked open, one of the warriors heard the sharp noise and turned rapidly, bringing his bolter up to the sound. He saw only a closed basement door, and continued his search.
Within the room, Tiriaq took deep, calculated breaths, slowing his heart rate back down and, again, injecting his drugs into his system. As he waited for his new dose to take hold he looked down the stairway to see nothing but a void of shadow so dark even his night vision enhanced helmet could not penetrate farther than a meter or two. With nowhere else to run and no sight of Valerio outside, Tiriaq readied his talons and descended slowly into the darkness.