The War of Shadows

[Koval]

I couldn't help but notice the effect of both the Chimera bomb and the graviton grenade on the daemon, but nonetheless it contrived to get back up, battered and bleeding from a score of lacerations that oozed black ichor. A curious stench of perfume and strong amasec emanated from its many wounds, unless that was just its own (un)natural odour masking the smell of promethium and hot metal from the Chimera wreckage.

It was still alive, and still moving, and still very angry.

Movement to my right caught my attention and I watched a force staff -- undoubtedly Maya Avens' -- sail through the air as the psyker herself rushed to attend Glosche, supine on the floor and severely injured from the graviton grenade. Jeremiah Crowe caught it, but I doubted he'd do anything more with it than tick the daemon off even further, especially weakened as he was.

The thing itself was about four times my height, and the pincers on its hands clacked menacingly as it picked up an unfortunate Guardsman and crushed him like a paper doll. Jeremiah was doing his best, for all it was worth, directing the odd bolt of Warp lightning at the daemon, but he wasn't having much success, as I'd anticipated.

We needed something big to take the daemon out, and as the thought passed through my head I turned around, looking for Czernavok. Naturally the machine-man was nowhere in sight, but a hulking Praetorian servitor that I'm sure was one of his was still moving somewhere behind me, back towards our fortifications.

"Grant to Inquisitor Czernavok, do you read me?" I voxed.

For the first few seconds, static filled my ears, but eventually Czernavok's voice came through.

"Statement: Receiving you, Inquisitor Grant."

"There's a Praetorian between me and the walls," I began, a plan forming swiftly as the daemon came even closer. I didn't have to see its next victim to hear the crunch of bones splintering in its hands. "Is it one of yours?"

On cue, the Praetorian itself turned to face me, its eyes -- or what I thought should have been eyes, at any rate -- locking with my own.

"Perplexed Confirmation: I am registering visual contact with you, Inquisitor. Might I inquire as to the nature of your question?"

"Do you think it can give me a boost?"

"Request Clarification: I do not understand what you mean."

I paused, but the next scream, pursued swiftly by an electric crackle from Jeremiah, galvanised my thought process and the words came only too quickly.

"I'm not exactly going to score a head shot on the daemon from down here, and if I close with it then I'll go the same way as our soldiers," I pointed out. "So I need some extra height."

A hiss of static, which I'm convinced was Czernavok voicing his disapproval rather than the comms fouling up, filled my ears and lingered for several seconds.

"Are you going to help me, Czernavok, or not?" I shouted as the daemon swatted Jeremiah aside with a psychic attack; judging by the scratching at the inside of my head and Maya Avens' scream of sudden pain, the attack was meant more to incapacitate through sheer pain than to kill, but it could easily have done just that to Jeremiah and although I didn't like the bastard, I didn't want that thing killing anyone else.

"Direct Order: Face the daemon, Inquisitor Grant."

"That's no bloody help," I snarled, readying both bolt pistols and lining up whatever shot I could manage, but the vox squawked again before I could pull the triggers.

"Repetition: Face the daemon, Inquisitor Grant."

The coin dropped and my stomach lurched as the Praetorian stomped towards me, its arms held out wide and low, but the logic was perfectly clear.

"Unnecessary Warning: Brace for impact."

The voice came from the Praetorian, not the vox, and before I knew it the Praetorian had both hands around my waist, its powerful augmetics lifting me off the ground with disturbing ease. Stepping forwards into a lunge, the Praetorian swung its arms up and forwards, and let go.

The daemon saw me coming, but it didn't have a clue what hit it as I crashed into its chest, shoulder-first, my power armour weathering the impact with ease. A gasp of wine-scented breath exploded from its throat with a cough and very nearly made my eyes water, but more importantly, I'd unbalanced the daemon and it tripped over the remains of a wall, toppling backwards and almost throwing me clear with the impact of its landing.

Before it could react to its peril, I levelled both bolt pistols at its eyes and emptied the magazines into its brain.

[Necris]

"Dammed woman."

He leapt from the wall catching the staff he yelped as he landed knowing that at least one of the bones in his ankle had broken, steadying himself he drew power into himself an aura of deep blue building round him and the staff as he used it's amplifying properties he strode forward limping to place himself between the daemon and Fabio. He watched as the daemon weathered the shots from Ottakar's bolt pistols as it stood again but suddenly it's head shattered and it tumbled backwards felled. He'd done it Emperor praise him in his stupidly brave stunt he'd killed the Daemon Prince, now there was just the matter of the lesser daemons and in Ottakar's apparent bravado he turned as the daemonic horde flooded in levelling his pistols at them.

"Ottakar stop."

The Inquisitor paused and looked at him, noticing the aura surrounding him the other Inquisitor lowered his pistols as he shouted at the daemons.

"You are not welcome here Daemons of Hell!"

A voice hissed into his mind as the largest of the lesser daemon's head snapped round to look upon him the smalled daemons formed behind it.

'You think you can stand against all of us mortal, join us and we will show you such pleasure.'

He half turned his face from the daemons his teeth bared like some rabid animal as it started to move towards him, images of perverse pleasure flooded through his mind, he roared as he turned to face the daemons full.

"The only pleasure I desire in to serve my Emperor."

He levelled the staff at the daemons before reversing it and throwing it like a spear the staff shrouded in blue light tore through the air leaving a trail of light that burned the retinas and left a painful after image, the largest daemon tried to swat the weapon aside but as it touched the force staff the light from it exploded outwards like a sun it burned for a second blinding all that looked upon it when the light faded and the observers sight retuned the space the daemons had occupied was empty the daemons having ceased to exist, the staff stood embedded in the ground the surface of the metal white hot a heat haze shimmering from it's surface.

He staggered dropping to one knee, he spat blood bright red across the ground before him, he pushed himself to his feet drawing his sword he used it as a brace as he moved towards Fabio Maya knelt beside him.

"Let me see him."

He knelt resting a hand on his chest.

"The pain will remain afterwards....this might hurt like a vissing bastard."

He concentrated focussing on Fabio's ribs first snapping them back into place he drew the chunk of stone from his lung pulling it into the palm of his hand before he knitted the flesh of his body back together, he delved deeper re-moulding the collapsed lung and sending the blood from his lung up his throat and in a fit of coughing out of Fabio's mouth, he supported it as Fabio drew his first breath then his hand recoiled and he collapsed to one side, his shoulder wound had reopened the blood flowing again. He rolled to one side looking up at the sky a hole had formed in the warp storm above them, he could see the stars beyond, it was night time how long had they all been awake for?

"Secure the wall..."

He drifted off into darkness.

[Swarbie]

"Oh God-Emperor! That fething HURT!" said Fabio as he bolted upright. "What the hell just happened?"

"Calm down, Fabio," Maya replied. "Inquisitor Crowe just healed you. You-you nearly died, from what I could tell."

"Another day, another chest-full of shrapnel," Fabio said, somewhat absentmindedly. "Why are we all still alive?"

"Ottakar killed the daemon. I'll tell you the details later."

"Hmph. Trust him to steal the glory. Maybe I'll ask him to transfer to Malleus. He'd get instant status after something like that."

Maya looked at him cautiously, a little puzzled by Fabio's undoubtedly good mood. What had happened to the pessimistic, self-destructive man she had been talking to only minutes before?

"Fabio, are you feeling alright?"

"I feel fine. In fact, I feel fething brilliant. I haven't felt this good since . . ." He trailed off.

"Since when?" Maya asked.

"Since . . . since Schindelgheist. It's been a long time. I'd forgotten how it felt to be alive."

He looked around. "It's weird," he said. "I give you my locket, I go down expecting to die, I nearly do die, and then I'm back to my old self. What changed? There has to be a reason . . ."

"Maybe your near-death experience changed you for the better?" suggested Maya.

"No," said Fabio. "This is different. This is . . . something else." An idea dawned on him. "Maya, can I have my locket back for a minute?"

She handed it to him. He opened it, and pulled out the holo-lith, revealing older pictures beneath. He removed these too, and eventually revealed something. A small sliver of pulsating green crystal sat in the back of the locket. Fabio stared at it.

"Oh, Marcas. Oh, you clever, clever man." 

[Necris]

Silv moved across the wall climbing down to the courtyard she strode over to the prone form of Jeremiah kneeling beside him she checked his pulse snarling at the two next to him.

"Don't bother checking on your saviour."

She stood summoning two medics over to her.

"Take him somewhere where he can be alone, when he wakes up it will be best if no one is around."

The men nodded and placed him on a stretcher carrying him off she turned back to the two of them.

"If you're quite done flirting with one another we are still in the mile of a combat situation."

She drew her bolt pistol and strode towards the gates where Ottakar stood with a dozen guardsmen, they stood ready as she joined them racking the slide of the weapon as she stepped up beside the power armoured Inquisitor.

"You're a stupid as Jere."

"Beg your pardon?"

"Taking on the daemon in the manner you did, it's reckless and foolish,"

"Why thank you."

"It was not a compliment, you remind me of Jere, reckless and all instinct."

Her arm shot up and fired dropping a human as their chest exploded.

"Even the filth that have lost themselves still linger despite their patron being slain, you'd think the sight of a diminutive Inquisitor slaughtering their God would be enough to scare them away."

The guardsmen opened fire as cultists rushed towards the gate, they were naked and caked in the filth and gore of their masters slaughter, in their hands they head makeshift weapons shards of glass, broken lengths of wood and metal they wailed like banshees as they came running at them, Silv scanned the cultists there were maybe a few dozen more then enough for the guardsmen present.

[Koval]

I leaned in close to Silv before she could go anywhere, and flicking my vox off, I held up my bolt pistol.

"Think what you will about me, and I couldn't care less so long as you keep your opinions to yourself. I will let it slide once, but if you ever voice your opinions to my face again, I will not hesitate to blow off your limbs. Do we have an understanding?"

[Necris]

"Matter at hand Inquisitor."

She checked her aim and fired again, she was used to threats idle or otherwise and took Ottakar's without a second thought. Belhast  had broken most of her bones in his fits of rage, he'd once put in a medical bay for a month simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She gave him a sideways glance as she continued firing.

[MarcoSkoll]

Shooting a harsh glance at Silv, Maya turned back to Fabio, offering a hand. He pulled himself upright, looking at the medics carrying off Jeremiah.

    "I hadn't even noticed him there.", he muttered, slightly embarrassed.
   "Don't apologise. She's just looking for people to blame. Of course I'd recognise extreme psychic exhaustion. I've seen it - I've had it- enough times to know what I'm looking at."

Fabio crouched down and picked up his sword before setting off towards the gates. Shorter legged, Maya had to work to keep up with his pace.
   "Will he be alright?"
   "He should be fine, but I won't envy him when he wakes up."

Seeing Fabio's slightly confused glance back over his shoulder, she continued.
    "It's remarkably like having a bad hangover. Gets worse the more powerful the psyker - and the more serious the burnout."

Nodding, Fabio looked down at locket in his hand. Finally catching up, Maya mirrored the subtle movement, glancing across at the softly glowing shard in the base.
    "That hasn't given me cancer or something, has it?", she asked, with an expression somewhere between confusion and concern.

Fabio laughed, although he himself seemed slightly surprised, as if he hadn't heard the sound in a long time.
   "You'll be fine. I've been wearing this for years."
   "I'll have to take your word for it."

Their walk had lead them directly past Maya's discarded staff. Staring at it set vertically upright in the rockcrete surface of the courtyard, Maya sighed. Whatever had happened, the end was now completely melted into the ground.
As she grasped it, it flared white hot with a startling instancy, liquidising the rockcrete around its base. She pulled it free with a spray of glowing droplets which splashed themselves across the nearby ground.

Turning, she noticed for the first time that the force assaulting the gates was made up solely of cultists.
   "Humans? What happened to the other daemons?"
   "I'm not complaining. You probably shouldn't either."

She weighed her staff in her hands. Whether it was the disappearance of the daemons, or the fact she had it in her hands again, she felt... surprisingly normal.
   "Good point. I do fear the daemons. But humans? "

When she looked at Fabio again, her eyes were two glowing orbs.
   "... I can make them fear me."

Something impossibly bright exploded from her back. It took Fabio's eyes a second to adjust to the dazzlingly intense light, but she was already arcing immediately towards the gate, borne aloft by a vast telekinetic wind. In absolute bemusement, he blinked, looking again.
   "Are those wings?"

Flying feet first into a  cultist, Maya twisted impossibly in mid-air and smashed aside another with the scorching sweep of a ten foot solid flame wing. A two-handed stave swing connected with skull of a third cultist, a bright flash of psychic energy flaring from the impact.

Seeing the flash of a laspistol shooting harmlessly into her left wing, her face twisted into a smile. She had their attention, but that was exactly what she wanted. Locking eyes with the offending cultist, she forced raw fear into his mind, watching him collapse as pure terror robbed him of his motor functions.

Letting her power free, she unleashed a telepathic wave of dread into the vicinity. It was crude and relatively unfocused, but the discipline and mental strength of the Inquisitors and Guardsmen would weather such an assault better than the unruly cultists.
Several of the cultists fled to be cut down by lasgun fire and many froze in horror, but an evidently bolder individual found the courage to leap forwards, lunging at Maya. She swept her left hand up, the intense flames streaming off her fingers cremating him mid jump.

[Necris]

"It's over, you men secure this gate."

She turned from the gate sliding the pistol into her holster as she strode past Fabio giving him a venomous look as she headed back into the main building, enquiring after Jeremiah she sought out the room they had put him in, finding him she entered the archive room looking over him she brushed the hair from his face.

"You stupid bastard."

She left returning with some fresh clothing taken from the stores and some water, cutting the shirt from his body she tossed it to one side looking over his torso, there were old scars running across his chest, even Jere couldn't always heal everything, his shoulder had closed again showing that his body and his mind were still working, using the water she cleaned his flesh wiping the blood from it she carefully prepared him for his awakening noting as she did the colour of his right hand, it was an angry red as if burned, she looked it over knowing what had caused it, the force staff belonging to another psyker it had been dangerous for Jeremiah to use even hold it let along use it, she wondered just how far on his powers had come since he'd left Belhast's side, he'd never been this powerful a few simple abilities such as the healing powers and some wards but nothing like what she'd seen him do since this nightmare had began.

"What's happened to you?"

She looked into his face only a few years old than he yet he had more experience than most of the Inquisitors present here now only Fabio could stand equal with him. She looked over him one last time before stepping back from him.

"Sleep well."

She left him heading for Gerhan's office stepping through the door she looked at the two guards with him.

"Leave us."

They obeyed instantly stepping from the room leaving her alone with him she stepped up to him as he lifted his head up she smashed her fist into it rocking him back off his chair.

"Who are they, the ones you're working with!"

He whined as he rolled round on the floor, she pulled him onto his back pushing the bolt pistol into his right eye.

"Tell me Emperor Damm you or so help me I'll put an end to you right here and now, I know they promised you'd live but I am not them! Tell me who they are!"

He whined incoherently squirming against the gun barrel in his eye, she snarled as she pulled the trigger watching him flinch as the chamber snapped empty, she tossed the weapon aside and stepped back looking on him in disgust.

"How could you do this to your own world?"

He fell silent and forced his words through sobs.

"Because I have faith."

"What?"

"The masters promised we'd be reborn."

"Who's be reborn?"

"All of us, Brant, Mortorn..."

Her head snapped up.

"Who is Mortorn?"

Gerhan stayed silent she moved to stand over him.

"Who is MORTORN!"

Someone was coming in through the door and she stopped turning to regard the intrusion

[Zephon]

When they felt the Chimera explode inside the bunker, the vox had died, and Oliver was fiddling his microbead to PDF frequencies. The room had shaken, the holo-table flickered, but little else had changed. By the time Oliver had finished interrogating a tank commander, the daemons outside were dead, and mopping up had begun. Gideon had left, presumably to check on his many friends and acquaintances. Bernard had gone back to the tactical display: the problem of coordinating the mechanised units to crush the remaining cultists without a functioning master-vox high on his mind. It seemed that the adepts working on repairing the malfunctioning device were having little luck. He recalled a mental note made some time ago, and called Oliver over.

"You may have noticed the hole in the corridor outside," Oliver nodded, and Bernard continued, "I'm informed there's an inert data device down there, of unknown function and under guard." Oliver turned to leave, and Bernard added, "If you like, bring it back."

Meaning, of course, Oliver thought, if you fail to work out what it is, don't worry, that tech-priest Inquisitor (something to bear in mind) will do the job. But his master would never say that. He passed through the hole in the wall, and moved quietly down the stairs, dimly lit by a light from around the corner. He turned it, saw the two adepts watching the device, and was halfway through a greeting before his eyes took in the details of the scene: A glow-lantern casting light from its place atop a humming metal power unit, the power cord leading from the unit to a steaming goblet of wires, with a metal globe impaled by data plugs resting in the cup and lying in the corner, the dead guardsman. He reacted in time to dodge the long, curved knife in the tattooed hand of the first robed figure, and to slam his hand into his throat. The second man was struggling to draw his stub pistol, the weapon made unwieldy by a bulky suppressor, but Oliver had yet to reach for his. He shoved heavily against the knife-wielding, casting him backwards into his companion and knocking him off balance. The stubber rose, but Oliver's autopistol coughed out a burst, and both men collapsed to the floor.

At the sound of such close gunfire, there was sudden quiet in the command room. Bernard was just gesturing to his staff to follow him, when the lights blew. The holo-table and monitor screens displayed brightly coloured snowflakes for a moment and winked out. Under the dim glare of the emergency lighting, there was silence once again. Several questioning voices spoke, but were interrupted by a violent commotion. One of the operating servitors was making a spirited effort to tear itself from a terminal. Blood poured from the face and arms as its movement ripped data-cords from where they entered flesh. As the head jerked backwards the implants were left behind, along with the pulpy remainder of the eyes. Finally free, the thrashing figure collapsed onto the floor, where Bernard shot it in the head. A second servitor began to thrash, before three lasbolts struck it in the back.

"All of them!" Bernard cried, and his followers hurried to obey, letting frightened adepts dive for cover before shooting ever one of the already-twitching servitors left in the room. Shouts could be heard from the rest of the complex as three of Bernard's team left the room and the men on the floor regained their feet. A side door opened, and an adept turned to explain to the vox repair team. They shot him first, before spraying the room with bullets. One threw something across the room: it smashed against a console in a burst of flame, spreading a burning liquid across the floor. The blaze licked up to ceiling as Bernard's remaining agents returned fire.

[Necris]

She watched as a las gun poked in through the door they it burst open a guardsman rushing in he aimed at her and fired a short burst following her as she flung herself across the room rolling behind the heavy desk, shots smacked into the wood as more entered the office she guessed two as the weight of fire increased, closing her eyes she reached out hoping to find Jeremiah but instead she found something more useful snapping her eyes open she looked to the underside of the desk and the small stubber hidden under it, ripping it free she dropped to her back and fired under the desk into the ankle of one of her attackers, he fell screaming as his ankle exploded and she pushed herself to her knees coming over the desk she fired again forcing the other two to take cover in the doorway.

Her eyes snapped to the chair where Gerhan was bound it was empty, she cursed as she fired again clipping another of them but unable to confirm if she's made a kill, when they tossed in a grenade she went pale throwing herself behind the desk, it detonated in the centre of the room the pressure knocking her flat and crushing down upon her, she lay there pain racking her body her breathing was strained and her ears bled, he keyed the vox on her throat and spoke her voice barley a whisper.

"Gerhan's escaped."

[Swarbie]

Fabio shook his head in amazement. "God-Emperor, but they make them even better than they used to."

He closed the locket and slipped it into his pocket. He'd explain about it to the others when there was a higher degree of safety. He strode up next to Maya and swung at the cultists in front of him, their terror making them easy targets.

There was a certain savage joy in fighting. It was the joy of being faster, stronger and smarter, of being the person who came away with their life.

God-Emperor, but he'd missed that feeling.

Inside the locket, the crystal pulsed gently. It had waited for ten years. It could wait a little longer.   

[MarcoSkoll]

The powerful floodlights overlooking the courtyard cut out, but none of the combatants had the time to figure out why. Lit only by starlight and the intense glow of Maya's wings, the fight continued.

A poorly aimed sword blow came down through the whirlwind of debris around Maya, the psyker casually deflecting it with a parry from her staff. These cultists weren't all completely braindead then - some of them could tell that she was the key to winning this fight.

Through either pure luck or a moment's inattention, the cultist's second swing tore a gash up her left forearm. A spray of blood flew from the wound, but a split second later, pyrokinetic energies cauterised it shut with an acrid smell of burnt flesh.

Roaring in fury, Maya jabbed a spike of psychic pain into her attacker's mind, dazing him. Concentrating, she coiled a sheath of white fire up around her wounded forearm, pouring energies into it that intensified the flames to an almost painfully bright light. Stepping forwards, she swung for the cultist. Still recovering from the psychic attack, he clumsily threw up his sword to block the blow.

The searing hot flame sheared through the blade effortlessly, and the expression of surprise was still fixed on his face when her next blow severed his neck.

~~~~~

The charge light on Lyra's lasgun switched to red, the power cell depleted. Ejecting the empty pack, she discarded it on to the floor - poor practice, but there wasn't the time to properly stow it for later recharge, not when it could be recovered later.

She drove the next magazine home with a solid click. The charge indication flashing green again, she unleashed a spray of shots into the nearest cultist, his chest exploding as the laser hits vaporised the tissues within.
Catching a glimpse of a cultist with some form of improvised flamethrower, she brought the rifle up and around. Carefully lining up a shot, she fired, rupturing the fuel tank strapped across the man's back, which began to spray fuel wildly.

She glanced left, shouting an order.
  "Maya! The nutjob drenched in promethium!"

The psyker responded instantly, hurling a fireball into the mist expanding from the cultist's back. The mix of fuel and air detonated with a tooth-loosening blast, killing several of the mob instantly and setting many of the others alight.

~~~~~

Further along the line, Kai drove his sabre through the gut of another of the rabble. Drawing it free with an almost casual air, he turned to fire two hellpistol shots into the head of a cult member bearing down on Inquisitor Grant.

A stubgun shot glanced off his shoulder plate, the owner of the pistol charging headlong towards him. Blowing out the cultist's knee, he kicked out violently, sending the stumbling individual tumbling back into one of his fellows.

He hooked his hell pistol onto his webbing and reached for his last frag grenade. Prepping it, he lobbed it into the mass.

[Necris]

Gerhan was struggling the Inquisition had done a decent enough job on him but he was still able to stumble behind the armed me leading him away from his office, the girl was surely dead and the others inside the command bunker were distracted as others attacked.

"Who sent you?"

"Mortorn."

"He's here?"

"Of course he is."

Gerhan paused.

"Why is he here?"

"I am here because I want the Beacon."

A tall figure stepped from a corridor his body was clad in a form fitting power armour his head hidden behind a full face helm, in his hands he carried a power maul and a hell pistol over one shoulder hung a MUI linked bolt pistol, it locked onto Gerhan as he turned to face them.

"They have it secured with a guard off the command centre."

Mortorn looked at the men with Gerhan and those following behind him.

"Go."

They rushed off to join the fight, Mortorn stepped up to him looking down into his face.

"What did you tell them."

He flinched Mortorn was the masters executioner their weapon of mass destruction he was supposed to have left this world to carry out the attack on the Nexus Belts, there were many rumours about him but nothing had ever been confirmed.

"Only what I had too."

The smooth surface of the helm looked down upon him as if examining every atom of his being.

"Why are you still here?"

Mortorn turned from him stalking down the corridor.

"Brant was unreliable I remained to ensure the first steps were carried out."

"And now we're escaping."

"No, now I'm escaping."

The bolt pistol snapped round and fired Gerhan pitched backwards his head exploding in a red mist, Mortorn strode on speaking as he walked.

"This is Mortorn, all sleeper units awaken." 

[MarcoSkoll]

Lyra's lasgun flashed yet another red charge light at her. Discarding the spent magazine, she cursed as her fingers descended into an empty pouch. Allowing the rifle to swing down onto its strap, she began to reach for her revolver, but stopped.
She was low on ammunition for the revolver as well, and given the terrifying efficiency Maya was slaughtering the cultists and the fact that tank support seemed to be arriving, spending what little she had left to shorten this fight by a few seconds was pointless.

Backing off the line, it dawned on her that the lights had gone out. Presumably Inquisitor Wyebold was working on it, but as she had to get more ammunition for the lasgun, it couldn't hurt to check. Walking over to where her graviton grenade still laid discarded on the floor, she picked it up and clipped it back on to her belt. She would need to charge it again, but she damn well hoped she'd be off this world sooner than that would take - but given the recent run of luck, that was wishful thinking. Breaking into a run, she made her way down the bunker steps.

Opening the door, the first thing she noticed was the smell of burnt gunpowder. Someone had been firing a gun down here - and recently. Discarding the lasgun at the edge of the corridor she drew her revolver, silencing the voice in the back of her head that was musing about the irony that she was down here in the first place because she hadn't wanted to use the handgun.

She glanced into the empty main control room, moving across it to one of the side rooms - there was a shifting light in there. A lamppack or something similar - was it Bernard looking for something?

Stepping into the room, the dim emergency lighting showed the shape of a guardsman, evidently rummaging through papers.
  "What the hell are..."

She was halfway through scolding him for not being on the line outside when she realised that he was equally halfway through drawing his autopistol. In the split second before he opened fire, she brought up the revolver and blasted a shot through his thigh. Ducking back through the doorway, his spray of return fire embedded itself around the door and in a pair of viewscreens on the far side of the main room.

Hearing the click of a hammer onto an empty chamber, she leant, blasting two shots into the room. The first went wide, but the second found a home between the guardsman's eyes and he collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud.

She was just about to vox for Kai when a second guardsman burst in from another of the entrances. His lasgun spat several shots. The first two missed completely, and her energy field arced as the next three were stopped in mid air. Her shield depleted, it was pure luck that the last found the flak lining of her jacket.
She emptied the last three rounds in the cylinder at him before ducking back through the door once again. His scream of pain meant she'd hit him somehow, but if he was still making noise, he wasn't dead yet.

Lyra carefully positioned herself next to the door, just as the muzzle of the guardsman's lasgun came through. Smashing it aside with her left hand, she brought around her right hand, her revolver replaced by her power knife. The weapon jammed into the soldier's throat, killing him instantly. Looking at his equipment, she considered taking his lasrifle... but Kai's words during their combat training sessions came back to her.
  "Using an unknown weapon in a combat situation is tantamount to suicide. It could be faulty, modified or booby-trapped. It is a last resort only."

With Kai in the forefront of her mind, she activated her vox. Greeted with dead silence, she cursed for about the hundredth time that day. Was it jammed, or was it damaged? She hadn't the time to find out.

Reloading her revolver with the increasingly few spare bullets she had, she weighed up her options. Going on alone was madness. The only sane thing to do would be go back for help - but that would take two, maybe three minutes, and given the havoc that had been caused since they had last heard down in the bunker, that was time they didn't have.

The decision was made for her by a grenade sailing in through the door. Desperately leaping over a pair of tables, one of them toppled over, sending her crashing to the floor. Her revolver was thrown from her hand, skittering across the smooth floor to settle under a vast rack of probably ancient files and reports.
Coming to her senses, she clasped her hands over her ears just before the grenade detonated. Her energy field again bore the brunt of the blast, with a few straggling pieces of shrapnel flying into the steel underside of the toppled table behind her.

Looking over at her revolver, Lyra immediately realised she wasn't getting it out from under there in a hurry. But she needed a weapon, and now. Reaching up the back of her jacket, she pulled free the  compact stubber concealed there. It was definitely inferior to her revolver, but it wasn't to be sniffed at as a backup.
It instantly proved itself by killing the soldier who had burst into the room in the aftermath of the explosion. Vaulting another table as the soldier's companion opened fire, she dove out of the far door. Panting heavily as she ran down the corridor beyond, she was glad that Kai had insisted she stay quite so physically fit.

Forcing her back to the wall as she turned the next corner, she unhooked her shock maul, waiting for the owner of the footsteps behind her to catch up. Her blow into his gut and the violent electrical discharge sent him careening into the wall ahead.
There was a crunch she was fairly sure was his neck breaking and he went limp. But this was no time for "fairly sure". Unwilling to take any chances, she fired two shots into the gap between the back of his helmet and armour.

It was only at this point that it dawned on her why these attackers were here.
  "Gerhan. Shaft me, they've come for Gerhan."

Doubling back to his room, she was welcomed by an open door with an empty chair and trashed beyond it. She was about to return to gather reinforcements when she heard the sound of a choked cough from inside.

Entering cautiously, she brought up her pistol at the source of the sound. Bloodied and half unrecognisable there was a figure in the corner. Finally figuring out who it was, she lowered the muzzle of the pistol slightly.
  "Silva?", she paused before correcting herself, "No, wait - sorry. That's someone else I know... What the hell happened?"

[Necris]

Silv looked at Lyra as she spoke, she was deaf and she prayed it was only temporary as the Inquisitors words failed to come to her so she told her what had happened her voice raised to a shout.

"Soldiers came and took him."

She looked around the before moving off to collect her bolt pistol checking over it she slid a fresh clip in.

"They weren't PDF, they came from somewhere else, here I'm compromised you'll make better use of this."

She offered the bolt pistol to Lyra before checking the load on the pistol she'd found, shaking her head to clear the ringing.

+

Mortorn watched as his people claimed the command centre they were standing at the entrance to an
antechamber their weapons firing into it, the guards protecting the beacon had set up a strong defence but the outcome inevitable they had no where to run and he had more people.

"It's clear."

"Good recover the beacon."

They stormed the antechamber returning a few moments later with the beacon carried between two of them.

"Do we activate it Mortorn?"

"No we find somewhere open, once we are off this world we finish what Brant started."

He signalled them to head off.

"The rest of you stay here, kill anyone who tries to follow us."

He looked over towards a second entrance gesturing at it.

"Wyebold will be back soon."

Men moved off in the direction indicated.

"What about the beacon?"

"Take it out the way we came in."