The War of Shadows

[MarcoSkoll]

Lyra emptied her revolver into the closest of the Screamers, yelling at the top of her voice as she did so.

   "In nomine Imperator, ego iacit vos in obscurum, fera foedus of altum inconsessus!"

It seemed to do little but annoy the beast. As the hammer clicked down onto a spent chamber, it lunged for her. With practised speed, she drew out her power knife, thumbing the activation rune. These were insane odds - victory was beyond them. Better to die fighting honourably than as a coward.
   "Nos timo nec vestri genus nec nex.", she mouthed at the oncoming beast.

It was yards from her when it was suddenly raked by multiple hellpistol bolts, blowing deep craters in its body.
  "GET DOWN! LYRA, GET DOWN!", Kai roared, bedecked in borrowed Inquisitorial Storm-Trooper equipment.

The Inquisitor didn't argue. Diving to one side, the daemon soared over her, millimetres from making contact. Still possessed of incredible momentum, it swerved towards the Sergeant, opening its mouth wide as it lunged. Unflinching, he pulled something from his webbing and threw it through the daemon's open jaws, stepping aside just in time to avoid its sweep.

Prone, Lyra shouted at the Sergeant.
   "What the hell was that?"

Behind him, the screamer exploded, its entire front quarter reduced to vapour.

   "A krak grenade. Faith is a strong weapon, Inquisitor - but it won't blow a hole in the side of a tank."
   "Well, I'm not arguing.", she said as she got back off the floor, and started reloading, "Stick with me. We have seven different kinds of hell being delivered to our door."
  "What do you propose?"
  "...Return to sender."

~~~~~

A heavy lump of masonry arced through the air, thrown by one of the Furies. Maya had to duck under it, giving the daemon the split second  it needed to close the distance between them.  It slashed out with its claws, aiming for the psyker's mid-riff. Dodging back, it took all of her agility to simply keep out of the reach of its claws - she hadn't the skill to fight one of these beasts in hand-to-hand.

Out of nowhere, the Interrogator who had dismissed Maya a moment before leapt for the daemon. It decapitated him almost dismissively with its claws - but it had been distracted for a brief second. Turning back to the psyker, it was greeted by an expression of not fear, but one of wrath, set with the two burning fires of her eyes.

  "Big mistake, a***hole. I still had to pay him back.", her voice echoed.

A violent shockwave burst out from her body, knocking the daemon back. In the same instant, her entire body seemed to ignite simultaneously. Wreathed in white-hot flame, she strode forwards.

  "I was thinking I'd make him wet himself. Perhaps make him believe he was a six year old girl."

She swung her flaming stave at the daemon. It brought up its claws to parry it, but the touch of the psychically charged weapon seared the flesh from its hands and blackened the bone below.

  "But you had to kill him."

Smashing the stave into the daemon again, it was knocked back several feet by the psychic discharge. Reaching forward with her left hand, the fire that surrounded her body sloughed off into a writhing torrent of flame that swept over the daemon.
Drawing her hand back, she focusing her rage into the flames that leapt over the Fury, turning the blaze into a roaring inferno. Shrieking but still alive, the daemon leapt for the psyker.

It disintegrated instantly, the psyker's staff held rock steady through where its heart had been immediately before.

  "... and he didn't deserve that.", she finished.

[Swarbie]

Fabio stalked across the open ground in front of Grant, intercepting Furies and other lesser daemons as Ottakar continued to blast away at Screamers. His abnormally fast reactions aided him, allowing him to block sweeping claws that would otherwise have disemboweled him and to intercept daemons as they materialized, destroying them when they were vulnerable and confused by the limits of the physical plane.

He swept around and made for another blurred shape, then stopped in his tracks as the daemon materialized. Its skin was the colour of dried blood, its eyes a milky white. Its skin was covered in small bumps and an impressive set of antlers bedecked its elongated skull. In its hand was a long sword of black iron, its edges glowing with heat.

The Bloodletter took a step forward, testing the confines of this new reality. It sniffed deeply, catching the scent of fresh blood coming from Fabio's hand. Fabio cursed and backed off slightly.

"Ottakar? If this thing drops me, you better blast the hell out of it. If you don't, I'll find a way to come back, and then I'll kill you."

He ran forward and started to slash at the daemon. It blocked his stroke easily, its longer blade giving it an advantage. He dropped under its return-swing and thrust his blade into its leg. The white-hot steel left a charred hole, and the Bloodletter screamed with rage and pain.

Fabio stepped back, giving himself room to think. He had the advantage over it in speed, but it was far stronger and tougher than him. His sword could hurt it, but experience told him that a single good hit from its blade would be the end of him.

Fabio reckoned he had a chance. Not much of a chance, but a chance nonetheless. He simply prayed that no more daemons would appear nearby while he was fighting this thing.

He ran forward, and met the daemon blade to blade.

[Koval]

I hadn't recognised the other two varieties of daemon, but this breed I'd seen before.

It's called a Bloodletter, a footsoldier in the employ of the Blood God. They're incredibly agile and essentially built for efficient slaughter at close quarters. From what I've seen, they usually carry giant zweihänder swords with oddly barbed and serrated blades; the only other time I'd seen one, I'd thought it incapable of holding a cutting edge (and without a monofilament wire, it should have been), but as with everything to do with Warpcraft, the impossible becomes reality on a disturbingly regular basis. On that previous occasion I remember seeing a fully armoured Storm Trooper being chopped in half down the middle, his carapace armour tearing like paper.

Fabio Glosche was having more success than my hapless Storm Trooper, thankfully, and was certainly putting up a stiff resistance against the Bloodletter. However, there was simply no question in my mind that the Bloodletter was the stronger of the two; from my understanding of it, those things are created for the sole purpose of beating the living daylights out of anything and everything, so it seemed rather inevitable that it would overpower Glosche sooner or later. I don't mean it as an insult to my more faithful peer, of course, but we were all caught off-guard and it's likely that he had specialised daemon-hunting equipment to which he simply no longer had access; as such, unprepared as we were, the daemons presented us with a far greater challenge.

I raised one of my pistols, trying to get a clear shot at the Bloodletter, but either it noticed me or was simply seeing how fast it could go in its new physical body, so I couldn't line up a shot without risking hitting Glosche. Being as Glosche was the only present Malleus operative known to me, that wasn't a risk I especially wanted to take. The two of them were moving rather a lot faster than I'd have liked, and although Glosche was fast, the Bloodletter had strength and raw aggression on its side, and the agility to match him. The thing's giant sword was whirling around faster than I thought possible, crashing against Glosche's blade time and again as he tried desperately to land a solid hit against it. The few scratches he could make in the Bloodletter's leathery skin were doing little more than pissing it off by this point, although the wards were certainly helping in that regard and the Bloodletter's wounds were smouldering from where the blade had penetrated.

Eventually, though, the Bloodletter got the upper hand, and fortunately for me, but unfortunately for Glosche, the Bloodletter's sword smashed into Glosche's and sent it flying out of his hand, miraculously unbroken but nonetheless decidedly out of reach. The force of the impact sent Glosche sprawling and the Bloodletter howled in triumph, pausing for a second as it savoured its victory.

It wouldn't have surprised me if the Bloodletter had decided to formally execute Glosche there and then, or simply hack him to bits with its sword, but if it was standing still, it was a sitting target. The shot I'd been waiting for lined itself up instantly and I fired only a split-second too late, barely missing the Bloodletter's head and taking off one of its antlers instead. It snarled in surprise and turned its head to stare at me. Its entire face was emaciated and almost skeletal, its skin stretched tightly over its very prominent facial bones. Its eyes were ablaze like burning coals, but nonetheless empty and devoid of any other emotion than unfettered rage; curiously, however, the sockets themselves were hollow and the light it radiated burned somewhere deep within its skull.

"YOU DARE INTERFERE!?" it bellowed. I didn't so much hear its voice as feel it; battered by a wall of angry noise, I felt each anger-fuelled syllable pound against my entire skeleton and reverbrate within my skull, throwing my aim off as I tried to line up another shot. "I SHALL FEED YOU YOUR OWN ENTRAILS!"

"Ooh, now that won't do at all," cooed another voice from behind me and I whirled to see another daemon, this one's skin a sort of milky white; instead of hands, it had oversized pincers like a scorpion's. It seemed to be male and female at once, a black corset covering a single breast on its left side, and a long strip of some unearthly fabric concealing whatever junk it may have possessed. Its face was at once alluring and utterly horrific, an aura of deception partly shrouding its true form and giving it an oddly attractive appearance.

"YOU DARE!?" the Bloodletter repeated. "HE IS MINE!"

"Oh, how unimaginative you are," the daemonette sniped. "Let's do away with this one first. The short fat man is an ungainly specimen."

I tried to shoot it, but my shot went wide (I think it hit a tree) and the daemonette vaulted onto my chest, bowling me over spectacularly as it lowered its face close enough to mine for me to smell its vile, intoxicating breath.

"YOU DISHONOURABLE SWINE!" roared the Bloodletter. Desperately wishing it would shut up, I found myself wondering exactly what Glosche was doing.

"Your methods are crude," snapped the daemonette. "Now then, Inquisitor, what shall I do with you? Hm? I know..."

My bolt pistols were frustratingly out of reach, but I still had my laspistol; the problem was reaching it, as the daemonette had my arms pinned.

"I am going to rip out that pathetic hunk of meat you call your phallus, Inquisitor, and I am going to rape your eye sockets with it until your eyes mix with the grey mush you think is a brain," the daemonette promised, somehow seductive even as it described its grotesque threat in gory detail. "Then I'll pour your head cocktail into your empty stomach, chilled with your frozen balls. I'm going to drink it, using your tongue as an umbrella, and salted with your dried piss."

"Have fun with that," I answered, overcoming my revulsion for long enough to throw the daemonette off me and unholster my laspistol. "I prefer amasec myself."

Not bothering to wait for a reply I jumped on top of the daemonette, driving my knee into its belly and ramming the barrel of my laspistol into its open mouth. Six shots later, there wasn't an awful lot of daemonette left to make good on its rather imaginative threat.

I must confess, I hadn't ever heard that one before.

Turning my attention back to the strangely silent Bloodletter, I saw Fabio Glosche attempting to clean bubbling black ichor from his blade. The Bloodletter itself was in three pieces on the floor; its sword-arm closest to me, then its head, and finally its lifeless and dismembered body lying on its back. Arterial blood was still leaking out of its neck in semi-gaseous globs of superheated high-pressure matter. Judging by the ragged state of what used to be the daemon's neck, I judged that Glosche had first hacked off its arm, and then stabbed straight through its larynx before it could retaliate in full. In ripping out his sword, Glosche had evidently decapitated the Bloodletter quite spectacularly.

"My thanks for distracting it, Ottakar," Glosche grunted, shaking off the worst of the Bloodletter's vital fluids. "Was that...?"

"If you mean that thing down there, it used to be a daemonette," I replied, gesturing at the already-dissolving remains, "with a rather sick and twisted mind."

"They're all like that," Glosche sighed. "At any rate, this place has become rather compromised. I suggest we find a way out of here, and quickly."

[Swarbie]

Fabio walked over to the weapons-cache and pulled out the bolt pistol lying on top of the other weapons. He made sure the safety was on, then dropped it into his pocket, hissing with distaste when he saw daemon-ichor covering most of his coat. He turned to look at the others.

They made an uninspiring sight. Shock and exhaustion clearly showing on their faces, the ragged group of inquisitors, acolytes and henchmen had unconsciously formed a rough circle, the old, injured and spiritually or mentally weak cowering in the center while the more martial members faced outwards, taking shots at swiftly-manifesting daemons with lasguns, autoguns, and some more advanced, personal equipment. Fabio saw the henchman who had saved him from being trapped in the now-collapsed building wielding a hell-gun; several meters to his left an inquisitor raised a long-barreled needle rifle.

The closest way down into the city was blocked by the shimmering haze caused by larger daemons manifesting; fortunately these were too tempted by the large amount of sport offered by hundreds of fleeing civilians to take note of the small group of people standing less than a hundred meters behind them.

Fabio did not know the layout of this place, he needed someone who did.

"Hey! Does anyone know where we might find safety? If we stay here too long we'll be overrun!" 

[Kallidor]

"If we stay here too long we'll be overrun!"

Molovich tossed the beacon to Arisha. His Interrogator crouched behind, a protective arm around the bio-unit. How sentimental, he'd have to have words with her about that, an Interrogator was a far more vaulable asset than a simple bio-unit which could be easily replaced. He saw her tie the beacon to the bio-unit saying somthing sotto voce that he could not hear but which he was able to discern via lip-reading, "Hold this tight. Everything will be okay."

His helm, other than being a defensive device, was also filled with numerous scanners, targeters and more pertinently, three dimensional mapping. A grid was projected onto the ground for approximately five-hundred metres in every direction, a super-imposed image that only Molovich could see, with the buildings overlayed in crisp data lines, even where they had been damaged with the advantage that he could see what had been and not just what was. Over this grid a red line plotted the optimum route of escape, based on telemetry he had inloaded the previous day, he had not expected to need it for martial purposes but it would do to get them away from here.

As he was about to relay this information to his fellow Inquisitors he had the ululating, chirriping melody of the Divinus Machina; it was his retainers finally catching them up. Two praetorians led the way, gene-bulked using ogryn DNA and their limbs augmented like his own. The foremost was a tank, massively armoured and carrying before it his power axe. A screamer dived towards it but it did not flinch, did not attempt to use its master's weapon to defend itself, instead leaving that task to the second praetorian, more lightly armoured and wielding what many would consider an antiquated and obsolete weapon, a reaper auto-cannon. The twin barrels tracked the daemon thing and then fired, the heavy shells obliterating its lithe body.

Behind them came three skitarii, who stood one to the front and one either side of Adepta Reiss and protecting that group were four combat servitors. The group trudged into position in front of the group of Inquisitors and opened up on the handful of daemons that were peeling back to attack them. Hard rounds and laser fire hammered the air, shredding the corporealising daemons before they get a foothold on the material plane.

++01010100011010000110100101110011010000001110111011000010111100101000010000011++

It was a data pulse less than a second in transmission but none of them, apart from his own people who had already begun to respond, would understand that he had even said anything. With no time to use the bio-unit he used his flesh voice, shouting as best he could, and sounding more like two sheets of rusted metal crushing together.

"This way!"

[Necris]

Jeremiah hadn't actually used his weapons yet they both hung at his sides as he stood head slightly down as if stuck with fear even as they withdrew he remained, several Inquisitors and staff pushed past him one spitting in his direction at his inaction.

Glosche came to him grabbing his arm.

"Come on we've got to go!"

He remained still as a statue

"You've never fought the daemon before, I know they can chill the core..."

He turned his head towards Glosche his eyes were solid orbs of white dark streaks of power flashing through them like cracks in marbles.

"On the contrary Inquisitor Glosche, This is what I do best."

He took a step forward the single foot fall causing lightning to dance up his leg

"What are you doing?!"

"I am a servant of the most Holy Emperor of Mankind the gods that once walked amongst us who gave his mortal form for us and now guides and protects us from the beyond, I have his faith as my shield, his faith as my weapon and in his name I shall cast you foul denizens of the warp from this world claimed in his name."

His words gained the attention of the closest daemons bloodletters smiled in wicked sneers as the locked onto him, Glosche steppe up beside him as they started to move toward the pair.

"I am his weapon and his will personified, I am the might of the Imperium given flesh and the faith of mankind given purpose, I am he who stands against the darkness and brings the light of salvation and protection, I am his servant and he protects!"

Even as the words slipped from his lips thunder rolled over the sky followed by lightning which struck carving up the ground before him directed into the pack of daemons approaching it cooked their otherworldly flesh and reduced them to seared remains, more bolts struck the ground directed by Jeremiah's will carving a hole in the manifesting daemons.

"Very impressive but you can't keep this up my friend we must evacuate and consolidate our forces."

He nodded and dropped to his knees.

"Your sword."

"What?"

"Hold out the blade."

Glosche held the burning blade out and watched as Jeremiah slashed his hand along the blade.

"With the blood of the faithful I sanctify this ground."

He smeared blood across the ground in a runic pattern before standing holding his bleeding hand before his face.

"And I say you are not welcome!"

He slashed his hand out sending blood out before him the rune blazed underfoot and a stillness and calm descended on the courtyard those daemons not fully manifest ceased to be while those fully formed recoiled from the rune clawed hands over their faces the closest faded and were swallowed back into the warp while those beyond the immediate effects leered with hungry intent on the edge of an invisible barrier.

"We are safe for now, but it wont take long for the blood to dry up."

He looked down at the rune the very edges of it were starting to dry and congeal, the pair of them turned and ran following the others.

"You're Ordo Malleus?"

"In a manner of speaking."

They moved behind Molovich's people and joined the rest some gave Jeremiah a sideway glance as he walked between them, his eyes still glowed with the barely contained power he was using, one of the PDF troopers spoke, it was the man he'd put in charge before heading into the ruins of the Palace.

"We've managed to get Lord Gerhan on the Vox he's taken command of the PDF and is coordinating the armed forces from the command centre, he's dispatched a detachment of chimera's to collect all the surviving Inquisitors."

Fabio replied looking round the gathered body of peers and those who'd been caught in the palace.

"Inform Lordd Gerhan we'll meet the chimera on route it it too dangerous here."

The sergeant nodded

"Yes sir, it's this way."

He led them off in the direction of the transports and the command centre.

[MarcoSkoll]

As she followed the group, Lyra passed the open, but very much diminished weapons crate. Pausing, she holstered her revolver - while a much beloved weapon, it seemed near useless against these supernatural foes, and was almost out of ammunition. She made a mental note that she would have to see to it that she started carrying projectiles warded against the daemon.

Snatching what looked to be a Triplex pattern lasrifle from the top of the weapons pile, she checked it over as quickly as she could. She didn't naturally favour lasweapons, but she knew how to use them, and it seemed it was the time.
Satisfied, she used the the few seconds she had left before she was left alone against a legion of daemons to force as many power cells as she could into her equipment pouches. Grabbing one last magazine, she ran with no small haste to rejoin her peers, loading the power pack into the empty housing on the rifle as she went.

[Kallidor]

They had set off at a steady pace but they were half running now. Bolter fire bellowed and a piercing screech filled the air. Somewhere above leathery wings beat but what beasts were tracking the group of Inquisitors was out of sight. With an animal bellow a Bloodletter pounced like a lion on one of the skitarii. The augmented trooper grunted and brought his rifle up to block a blow from a sizzling weapon that cleaved through and down into his chest. The soldier never cried out and continued to struggle, grappling with the writhing daemon and the heavy praetorian, massive armoured arms rattling and wheezing punched the red skinned beast in the side of the head.

With a hiss if anger it finished the wounded trooper, cutting him in half but the praetorian swung again, fist and arm like neumatic ram that mashed the daemon's skull into a collonade. Once more the beast was hit and the daemon's hoofed feet scrabbled drunkenly. With an unearthly howl the warp entity was dragged back into its tormented realm.

They ran up a flight of sloping brick steps, up a narrowing path between old tenements painted yellow like the ceiling of smoker's room, crumbling plaster cherubs leering at them from the shadows of the gables. A roar up ahead and a screech of brakes announed the arrival of chimera. Gruff voices called out as a soldier barked orders and the group moved quickly to get to the transport.

"I don't think you'll all fit." Molovich canted to his warriors who immediately clambered onto the shivering flanks of the chimera, scanning for any attacks that might come from above. Molovich pointed to the chimera and said, "In." his flesh voice forcing the word out as his sightless helm stared at Arisha. The augmented Inquisitor joined his warriors atop the vehicle, leaving room for his fellow Inquisitors inside and those otehrs who were not adequately armoured to survive the trip topside.

[Necris]

Jeremiah climbed onto the hull crouching by the turret he daubed his hand over the surface of the metal repeating the rune he'd made earlier, the blood bubbled as he withdrew his hand before glowing red, he spoke to the commander who looked at him in horror.

"Make haste, the rune will not last for long."

He nodded shouting down into the tank his voice lost in the low rumble of the tanks engine, a moment later the chimera lurched forward forcing him to grip one of the rungs of the turret, civilians rushed out towards the tank hoping for salvation

"Fire over their heads, we cannot stop to help them."

The commander obeyed angling the gun up he gave a burst of fire which caused the civilians to halt and cover.

"Find a secure place to hide and pray to the Emperor, your faith will protect you!"

He cried out as they sped past, Molovich moved to his side his voice like the hull of a tank being torn open.

"A cold lie."

"Better they believe in their faith than succumb to the horrors that walk this world."

[Zephon]

Seated inside the Chimera, Inquisitor Bernard Wyebold reached into his inside left pocket, and withdrew a white handkerchief. Unfolding it, he wiped the sweat that had accumulated on his face and hands away. Moving forward, he shouted upwards to the tank commander.

"Set your vox to frequency 11.4."

As the man obeyed, Bernard reached for the microphone.

"This is Wyebold. Oliver, can you hear?"

He was repeating this for the third time when a return message, heavily distorted, came through over the headphones he had borrowed. The others inside the Chimera could not hear what was said, but when Wyebold replied, it was with a less grim expression.

"Have them take you to the PDF command centre. Don't delay for anything. Got that?"

Presumably, the reply was affirmative, since Bernard handed back the vox equipment.

"Inquisitor... Glosche. In my experience, psychic phenomena exhaust themselves without a constant source of power. But I hear that warp-spawn sustain themselves on carnage. Could this world fall if the whole city where to be slaughtered?"

[Swarbie]

"It's possible. If they cause enough destruction here, their gods may focus their gaze upon this world, empowering them. Certain daemons will remain longer anyway, by the simple fact of their greater resistance to the physical realm's . . . constraints or the fact that they feed upon souls."

Fabio looked around at the other inquisitors.

"Regardless, if the city should fall, this world will soon follow. Mass panic will spread through other cities, riots will start. Numerous Chaos cults will reveal themselves, each claiming to have caused the destruction in an effort to gather more followers. As long as there is a heightened daemonic presence here, undetected and rogue psykers elsewhere will have an increased chance of becoming gateways for more of these blasphemous things."

"So what can we do?" asked Ottakar.

"The only viable option at the moment is to find as many troops as we can and begin a purge of the city. Even if that fails, it should buy us enough time for the aftershock of the psychic . . . attack earlier to die down. We will be able to re-establish communication with our ships in orbit. They can send landers to pick us up and anyone we can safely evacuate.

Then, depending on how successful our purge here was, we may have no choice. We may have to perform Exterminatus." 

[Necris]

The Chimera's pulled into the command centre compound Jeremiah was the first to leap from the tank he travelled on walking back towards the gate he forced his fingers into the wound in his hand muttering under his breath.

"I am he who serves the Emperor of Mankind his servant and his vessel, I anoint this land with my blood to seal it against the malign and the sinister."

Blood flowed freely from his hand as he walked a long circle the same width as the gates carefully he walked the lines of the runes inside the circle he traced the out carefully as he knelt at it's centre drawing a smaller circle and marking more runes in it's centre he knelt as he finished then flicked blood across the circle. Where the drops landed the blood pulsed with a malign angry red he stood as the pulsing red spread through the whole of the markings, it pulsed like a heart beat slow and steady, his eyes turned to some of the guardsmen stood on the gate.

"Ensure no-one breaks the marks."

They nodded looking more worried at the marks than the sky and the chaos beyond. He walked back to join the others.

"We need to tell the Conclave of what has happened here, so that those responsible can be brought to justice."

[MarcoSkoll]

Lyra watched the youthful Inquisitor spilling yet more of his blood across the ground.
   "At this rate, the silly sod will faint from blood loss."

It was Ottakar Grant who answered her.

   "You think this a joke?"
   "Not at all. I am grateful for the wards, but wary that he may overstretch himself by protecting every inch of the ground we step upon."

She broke off as Jeremiah returned, carefully binding the wound on his palm with some odd strip of material. Lyra wasn't exactly sure where it had come from, but it didn't strike her as an entirely hygienic bandage.

   "We need to tell the Conclave of what has happened here, so that those responsible can be brought to justice.", he spoke as he tied off the knot.

Lyra rolled her eyes at the suggestion, although with no-one's attention on her, it went unseen. The youth was useful, but she didn't have time for someone who was blind to the obvious.

  "I think it's likely the Conclave has already noticed. Either that or they're dead.", she replied, carefully trying to keep her irritation from showing in her voice.
   "I expect as much, but we must still attempt to contact them if they are still alive.", Fabio spoke, "Our efforts must be coordinated efforts if we are to repulse this invasion."

He gestured at the door of the bunker, whereupon an assortment of the Inquisitors followed him. Lyra hung back briefly, turning to Maya. The psyker was a little the worse for wear, with more than a few cuts and grazes, most of which appeared to be smouldering - much to the alarm of several of the people in the vicinity. She pulled the psyker aside, carefully making sure no-one was within earshot.

   "I have a question."
   "Lyra... you are far more knowledgeable than I can hope to be".
   "And you're a psyker, which I will never be. You have first-hand experience of the aethyr."
   "Valid argument. Ask away."
   "Can we risk Exterminatus?"
   "Risk? I'm not sure I understand you."
   "Could this be part of their plan? What we see here began with the sacrifice of the Astropaths' sector - perhaps a few hundred. Can they feasibly make use of the billions of deaths Exterminatus will bring?"

There was a brief moment of silence, with Maya's long dress rippling in the wind and her facial expression uncertain of whether it should display fear, shock, confusion or pensiveness. Eventually, it settled on one of dread and awe.

   "That... would be a vast conspiracy", Maya breathed in disbelief.
   "I'm an Inquisitor. It's my job to think big." Lyra countered, "Is it possible?"
   "I... I don't know."
   "Work it out. And not a word to anyone else. There are traitors in our ranks."

[MarcoSkoll]

The passageway opened out into an oppressively dark room. A voice came from the other side, but the reverb made it hard to work out who it belonged to

  "Has anyone got a lamp-pack? I can't see a damned thing down here."

There was a pause before Maya reached for Lyra's shoulder.
  "Inquisitor?"
  "Sure. Go ahead."

The psyker stepped forwards, raising her hand up above her head. In the next instant, flames curled up around her fingers, bathing the room in light. Carefully channelling more energies into it, the flickering orange-yellow tone slowly solidified into a brighter blue-white.

Lyra had to blink a couple of times to get her eyes to adapt to the light, but eventually the room drifted into view, the walls packed with pict-screens and assorted other equipment, most of which she couldn't identify from first glance.

The light also revealed several of those present had drawn back from Maya and her flame wreathed hand, presumably out of an innate distrust for the witch. Apparently relatively unconcerned by such matters, the quiet was broken by the voice of Molovich's puppet.

  "Such a facility will be designed with a power backup."
  "Good.", Fabio answered, "Where will we find it?"

Kai's voice echoed out in answer from one of the doors on the far side of the room.

  "Through here, I imagine, sir."

Lyra however was relatively uninterested in this. She was no mechanic, so she could offer little assistance in powering up the systems. Instead, she had moved over to a figure who had collapsed into one of the corners of the room. Coming into a crouch, she addressed them.

  "Arisha, was it?"

The woman nodded in response. Without the empathic powers Maya possessed, Lyra was forced to guess somewhat, but it looked like the woman was getting close to breaking down. The Inquisitor could hardly blame her - daemons were a foe that could wear down the strongest of resolves, and the woman had appeared nervous from the start.

  "Alright if I join you?"

Arisha nodded again. Shifting her lasrifle across her back to allow her to sit, and removing her hat, Lyra moved alongside the Interrogator. Leaning back against the wall, she placed her hat down on her lap, then extended her gloved hand.

  "Lyra - Lyra Rhodes. Well, Lyra Joandra Rhodes, if you want to go that far. I'm afraid my parents went a bit over the top with the name."

Smiling weakly, Arisha took the proffered hand and shook it. Lyra lopsidedly mirrored the smile as she took back her hand.

  "I'm sorry about all this. Well, it's not my fault - but I'm still sorry that you've had to be subjected to it. Daemons... I remember when I first faced them - I was absolutely terrified. To be quite honest, I wet myself. Not exactly my finest hour - but it must have been... 60 years ago, I guess. Damn... I'm getting old."
  "What happened?", Arisha said, breaking her silence.
  "I wish I could pretend I managed what an acolyte I once looked after for a few months did - an Inquisitor himself now - but after my previous admission of nerve, it would probably be a bit farfetched to say I decapitated it.
In my case, it took much delight in mocking my lack of courage, then because I was beyond actually coordinating myself to run away, it knocked me down. More derision, threats of what was going to happen to my soul, how unpleasantly it was going to kill me... stuff I wasn't exactly making many efforts to remember for later.
But it was preoccupied with me to the point it almost didn't notice when my mentor's bodyguard came out of the darkness and blew it back to the seven hells with his plasma gun.
Somehow I managed to come away from it with not much more than damp trousers, a generous coating of daemonic ichor, a few relatively minor injuries and a set of terrified memories."
  "Lucky."
  "I have a knack for narrow escapes. Anyway, no-one ever mocked me for that one, of which I am very glad - so I pass on the favour. If people have the guts to face a daemon, then that's fine. But if they don't, I won't blame them.
Frankly, I would still sooner leave such abominations to someone else. But it just looks like it's going to be one of those days. Anyway, you alright now?"
  "I should be.", she spoke a little more assertively now.
  "Perfect. And remember this - you're doing better than I ever did. And I was only up against one daemon.
Anyway, now I've got a question."
  "What?", was the curious reply.
  "How long can it possibly take to get the power working?"

[Necris]

He strode in behind the rest finishing the binding of his hand, the material had come form one of his pockets a xenos hide it promoted healing, though many would scoff at it's use as heresy he didn't care.

He looked round the dimly lit command room.

"Where is Lord Gerhan?"

A voice came from the darkest corner and a large pudgy man ambled out from the darkness.

"I am Gerhan."

His skin was pallid and sweat covered his brow, his eyes were watery and as he approached Jeremiah wrinkled his nose at the smell coming from him.

"I want you to establish a cordon round the command centre, any refugees are to allocated to a single barracks one of us will need to check them for taint before we allow them to move freely around the compound."

"But my lord, we do not have the man power to police any civilians."

"You think anyone left alive out their is a civilian? should any of them come here the first thing they will be give is a gun, we are at war sir for the very survival of this planet."

The lights blinked back to life and more terminals illuminated some showed schemes from the city and the massacre that was occurring things tearing people limb from limb feasting upon their flesh and worse, schemes of depravity being played out by sleek daemonic forms even bloodletters slaughtered through the throngs.

"Turn those off."

The order was ignored as the soldiers were enraptured the horror, stunned or beguiled into watching the horrors play out, lightning leapt from his fingers and destroyed the screens with bright sparks.

"Listen carefully all of you, the Emperor Protects and we are his most loyal servants you follow our words without question and you will survive this."

He looked at Gerhan who nodded before turning on two more inquisitors one was injured one side of his face burned by fire the other a woman comforted him.

"Fyes, would you mind conducting the inspection of the refugees?"

Fyes sighed nodding he gestured at his face.

"I'm no use in a fight."

He and the woman headed off and Jeremiah turned looking around.

"Where is the transponder?"