Fallen Paladin, Traitor Champion

[Necris]

Nero growled as Flazone's ship vanished he consulted the pulpit at his side and hissed his orders

"They have Eldar technology, plot projected courses and fire all weapons, instruct assault boats to fire payloads and withdraw."

His eyes snapped up.

"Order them to draw those thunderhawks in close to the ship we'll pluck them from the void, ready our own thunderhawks."

He moved from the pulpit to stand beside Draconis as the boarding torpedo shattered the forward shields and dug into the hull of his ship.

"Status on the shields?"

"Down, they used a gellar field to disrupt the shield arrays."

"Recalibrate and get them back up."

He strode over to the pulpit again.

"Put me through to Sol."

A moments pause.

"Captain?"

"We have a hull breach, upper forward compartment delta seven, be warned of a daemonic presence."

"Understood."

[Necris]

Sol moved through the ship at the head of twenty marines each of their armour a oily black like his own, the gold of the armour shone brightly, each carried finely worked bolter every one of them a work of art, swords hung from hips ready to be drawn at a moments notice. Sol strode proudly his head exposed unlike the marines under his command, he'd picked the trait up from Soloman all those years ago, though they shared the same name Sol had always been held as a sergeant never a captain now under Nero's command he'd risen to be one of his lieutenants a commander in his own right.

"Fan out at the next intersection and secure, Lucas go right, Isaac left."

The two sergeants obeyed without question leading the men under them left and right leaving him with ten marines.

"Specials to the fore we hold here and wait for what ever comes through, remember concentrate fire on the daemons first."

He'd fought enough daemons during their campaign an he feared little that this universe could throw against him yet even now he could feel a darkness building on the other side of the emergency bulk head, it sent a shiver down his spine. He loosened up his power sword and checked his side arm one last time, the sword had been with him all his life and had seen every foe mortal and daemon alike sent reeling he had no fear as the sounds of the breaching team beyon worked.

"Remember a perfect defences comes from the timely application of a perfect offence, we hold here before we push these bastards back."

"Maybe we can help with that aspect."

Sol turned looking back over his men and allowed himself a cold smile. Brak strode with five of his hounds each of them bore a storm shield in their off hands and heavy chain axes in their main hands, bolt pistols hung at their hips but Sol knew they were mainly for show, they came to a stop Brak nodding at the door.

"One team, they have confidence, in their superiority."

"Or they have something they think can tip the battle."

"Good thing we do too."

"Get down behind my men Brak, stay out of sight until we're ready to counter their attack."

"Strike from the shadows, you know Sol you're more like me than you'd admit."

Sol sneered as he turned back to the bulkhead."

[Draco Silverhand]

Jessup Takon leveled his meltagun at the bulkhead door once more. A perverse amalgamation of flesh and metal stood beside him, roaring its displeasure, or perhaps pleasure at the situation. Its arms extended before it, a long metal tube protruding began to glow at the tip before discharging a burst of light into the blast door. The obliterator laughed as the tube widened, as if liquid, shortened, and became a missile launcher. Takon fired another blast of his meltagun, searing an arc of red-orange across the metal before a single krak missile flew forward into the door, punching a hole no larger than a bolter round, but as it did, a Black Knight ran forward to spray prometheum through the hole before another marine dragged him back to the breaching barricade. When Takon saw that the flamer-weilding maniac had also dropped a meltabomb, he ducked behind the barricade, and only the obliterator stood as the room filled with dazzling white, then orange, then red. As the fusion bomb's glow faded, all the marines opened fire through the smoke.

Bolter fire erupted from both sides of the blast door, and Takon lifted a hand, swinging it forward before an unearthly chorus of roars swept past him, seven bloodletters, and an Inquisitor ran forward through the smoke, followed closely by Brother Albador. Brother Albador had a cheerful disposition, he couldn't help it. He knew his death was iminent, and had laughed with his fellow brethren about how horrid it could be. He laughed, and he stank, and he rotted. Brother Albador bore the mark of Nurgle. He carried a heavy bolter with him into the hallway, and as the bloodletters leapt over the barricade on the other side, he planted his feet on the plasteel as he readied the heavy bolter. The floorboards rusting as he stood there. Albador opened fire into the melee, and laughed all the while bolterfire sprayed back into him.

From behind the defending lines, a new foe sprung. Takon snarled as he saw a squad with storm shields and chainaxes. The traitor smiled slightly as he realized the irony. These marines who fought for the Emperor wore the colors of traitors. He and his brethren, traitors to the Emperor, fought under the colors of a loyalist chapter. Such ironies made him grin. With that, Takon ordered his men forward. All of them.

The hallway was narrow, but the first Emperor's Children squad had fallen back several yards, while the World Eaters marines held, slaying most of the bloodletter daemons, and sending the renegade Inquisitor flying backwards into the breach.

From the breach, two squads of Black Knights charged, chainswords revving and bolt pistols firing. Takon's squad entered the fray first, filling the gap from the bloodletters, running over Brother Albador's corpse in the process.

The second squad opened fire as the corridor opened up, spraying bolterfire down the halls to either side. The squads that had been sent to secure the area returned fire, sending withering hails of bolterfire.

Takon died seconds later, his squad no match for ten millenia experienced veteran marines. His men slaughtered to a man, the dead Black Knights made a fitting barricade as they were heaped up, but what waited in the darkness beyond the breach found their deaths more fitting as sacrifice to its own immortal desires. A hideous laugh filled the air as a greater daemonette of Slaanesh manifested in the boarding torpedo. A laugh that reached into the minds and souls of those still living and made them realize what horrors she would inflict upon them. As she strode through the breach, she stood in the high-rising hallway at her full height. Five meters tall, the daemonette unfurled a flaming lash and a sword materialized in two of her hands. The other three held variants of knives or daggers, each with a cruel, yet unique edge.

"Come, mortals. Join your fallen brethren! I bring the end of Man!" As she said this, she cracked her psionic whip and one of the nearby squads fell back to a nearby location. Bolterfire seemed to miss or simply pass through her semi-corporeal form, and as she neared, a new scream echoed through the breach just before a swarm of cultists came surging through.

[Koval]

Totally separate from the rest of the carnage, I flattened myself against the wall at a T-junction as a squad of Space Marines blundered up the corridor beside me, thankfully turning right rather than left otherwise they'd have probably gunned me down quite easily. I couldn't quite make out their livery but judging by their colouration, I think they might've been Death Guard.

No matter. I didn't really care for their allegiance; I just wanted to be as far away from Space Marines as possible. Although fights involving the Astartes tend to be fast and bloody affairs by definition, I couldn't really afford to let myself be tied down, even though I'd effectively foregone a prime opportunity to shed the blood of heroes.

It chafed at me, but Khorne's martial disciplines also encompass complex strategy and sabotage, and naturally, being something of a rogue element made me a prime candidate for this mission; after all, the longer I dallied, the greater our chances of failure, and Khorne's not too fond of stupid decisions.

While the ground pounders slaughtered each other and distracted the defenders, and while Tigurio went about whatever he was getting up to, my job was to disable the ship's generarium.

Stealth, however, is rather difficult when you're carrying a giant, irregularly serrated zweihänder on your back, and when you only have one functional hand. The arm was healing well, and the patrols that had discovered me so far had made for a good meal, not to mention a source of replacement flesh, but for all the good it was at the moment, it might as well have stayed as a tangle of bloody rags. Human frailty is something I've still not entirely gotten used to.

I'd resorted to a chainsword over the hellblade for the time being, the simple, mechanical, physical reliability of the weapon easily making up for the sheer power of the Warp-sword, not to mention it makes a bloody mess everywhere, which is the important thing.

The Space Marines had missed me -- how, I'll never know -- but the next security patrol I encountered had no such ill fortune (though depending on how you look at it, the Space Marines were the lucky ones). These patrols travelled in threes, possibly as an extra security measure so that at least one of them could raise an alarm; all of them had shotguns, not powerful enough to blast a hole in a starship wall but certainly capable of reducing a man to chunks of meat.

I'd done it myself only two patrols ago with a gun I'd looted, but not having a second hand to rack the slide, and not really being in the best position to operate it by any other means, I'd discarded it almost instantly.

"Halt," ordered the patrol leader, and I had a flash of inspiration.

"Inquisition," I stated, dropping my chainsword and producing Dakarai Khama's rosette with the other. Belatedly, I wondered if I still looked like him, but if the patrol leader hadn't just outright assumed I wasn't who I said I was then I'd have been dodging buckshot by now, so I had to assume that I'd not spontaneously mutated again.

"Why aren't you on the bridge with Lord Falzone?" asked another crewman.

"Bones o' the saints!" exclaimed the third, and I suppressed the urge to wince. "What 'appened to your 'and?"

"Bolter shell," I lied. "Listen. There's no time for idle chatter. We've been boarded by the renegades. There's a powerful entity, a Warp creature, making its way to the aft of the ship. I believe he's going for the Warp drive or the generarium. He wants to cripple the ship."

"We'll be sitting targets if that happens," observed the second, fear creeping into his voice.

"Which is why I need to get there," I told them, stooping to pick up my chainsword. "So let me pass."

"Understood, Inquisitor," nodded the patrol leader, standing aside with his men behind him. Inwardly, I sneered. They'd lined themselves up perfectly. Too perfectly.

Chainsword practice.

I swept past them, and before they even knew what had happened I'd taken all three of their heads off with a single clean sweep; they didn't even have time to scream.

Not even stopping to watch the blood spray out from their necks (not to mention stain my Inquisition disguise), I rushed off towards the nearest large energy signature, pausing only to wait for another patrol to go past before running in the direction of what I thought was the generarium.

[Necris]

Brak snapped his weapon up into a firm hold as he looked over his shoulder at Sol, their forces had not survived undamaged several of Sol's men were injured and three were dead he looked at his own one would never fight again his throat torn open blood pooling at his feet, another had lost an arm, he'd discarded his shield in favour of his axe an stood with the others.

"Someone should have told you bitch, we are not men here. We are Astartes!"

With a snap of his arm Sol's men refocussed their fire driving the rounds into the chest of the daemon Sol stepped forward his power sword crackling as he took place between Brak and the others. They charged sword and axes swinging in against the daemon Sol slid under the swinging sword raking his own blade across the flesh of the daemon before being swatted back he landed heavily rolling to his knees he watched as Brak and the other World Eaters hacked at the daemon.

Brak moved like quicksilver stepping aside from the daemons weapons his axe clove great lines across the flesh to no effect, one of his marines exploded in blood as the sword smashed through his chest another was split in two as the lash snapped out cutting through his armour as though it were parchment, yet another died three daggers punching through his armour his death throws tied up the weapons and Brak clove one clean off as he stepped up to help his brother. The daemon howled in glee the arm growing back almost instantly.

Sol stood his sword snapping out to swat aside a cultist his marines has changed their aim cutting the cultists down in a brutal field of controlled fire he made to rejoin the fight with Brak before a voice thundered in his mind.

"Stand aside Sol."

He obeyed instantly as a spear shot past him the blade burning fire as it struck the daemon squarely in the chest, it recoiled howling, Brak snarled the sound an equal for the daemonic howl casting his shield aside he took his axe in a two handed grip and swung it into the face of the daemon the teeth bite the daemon's flesh sending gore spraying across the corridor. Sol turned and watched as a crimson armoured marine strode down the corridor he stepped past Sol his face hidden behind his helm his eyes glowing purple behind the lenses.

"Raneb?"

"Clear the area you are no match for this."

"You heard the Thousand Son, kill the cultists, Brak fall back."

Brak snapped his head round seeing Raneb he turned again slashing the axe across the daemon again before stooping and collecting his shield before stepping back. Raneb stepped forward and with a flick of his wrist the spear flew back to his hand.

"Come meet your end daemon."

++

+Sol?+

He paused as the vox link activated.

"Captain?"

+There is someone abroad on my ship, reports of Legio security teams being found dead towards the aft, suspected target are..+

"The warp drives or the generarium."

Brak shouted out having listened in on the vox traffic.

"I can handle these humans, go."

He turned to his men.

"Isaac, Lucas take your men, head for the warp drives and secure them, the rest of you with me."

He headed off in the direction of the generarium, the fact that someone or something had slipped past them galled him, the fact that they were now killing the human crew of the ship stung, he pushed his body as he surged down the corridor risking a glance over his shoulder as Brak slaughtered the cultists using his shield as as weapon smashing the men down with ease.

++

Nero stepped back from the pulpit and turned in his robes he was still a head taller than the nearest marine and he strode across the bridge towards the exit.

"Tass you have the bridge, continue to fire on a dispersed pattern  until you get a confirmed hit, then launch boarding torpedo's lets see how Falzone likes being boarded."

He left the bridge heading for his quarters.

[Draco Silverhand]

"Lord." A rating pettitioned Tigurio's ear. "The ancient ship... It seems to have calculated our trajectory, master." The whelpling human cringed as Tigurio's helmeted visage turned a burning third eye towards him. "They are firing closer to us."

"Evasive maneuvers. Roll the ship if you have to. Get us below the planetary plane and bring us back up in the middle of the main fleet. Load bombard cannons with maximum payload, and fire only on my command!" Tigurio spoke through clenched teeth.

Remember... You must fulfill your end of the bargain, or we shall shred your soul and share the morsels it yeilds... You have become a powerful psyker, Falzone, but you are no match for us...

Yes, Oxan. I can see just how powerful you are, when a bloodletter of Khorne, bound in a mortal frame can best you in single combat. I shall keep in mind just how god-like you can be.

Mock me if you like. It will only make tormenting you before devouring my portion of you sweeter...

"Tansis, on my mark, re-route power from the shroud to the shield generators. Give me full broadside shielding, with fifty percent on prow and stern shields."

"Yes... Lord..." Tansis' reticence to respond struck Tigurio as belligerent, but he couldn't tell for sure, not with Mechanicum. This Tansis was of the Dark Mechanicum cult. He was as much daemon as machine, and only a sliver remained human. As far as Tigurio could make out, they had the capacity to hate, like daemons. As such, Tigurio kept an even closer eye on the techmarines and techpriests under his command.

"Perpare another boarding party." He finally spoke. "This time, give them our World Eaters." Tigurio smiled. He'd recieved broken vox messages from the initial boarding party. Pre-heresy traitor legion colors, specifically those of Fulgrim and Angron's legions. Possibly more. "Let us see how World Eaters deal with World Eaters."

"Lord!" Another lickspit spoke up. "We are out of the firing lane of the pre-heresy ship, but we are detecting an anomaly in our wake. Another energy field like our shroud... Feth. Target lock. Druuchi..."

"Dark Eldar?" Tigurio interrupted.

"Yes. Dark Eldar on fast approach from the planet's orbit. They must have webways in system. There was no warp translation."

"Spare me your commentary, whelp, but thank you. Full speed ahead into the Imperial fleet. Drop cloak on my mark." The ship lurched as it corrected from a galactic down-bubble angle to an up angle, swinging towards the naval vessel. Nero's ship continued to fire, spreading its shots into the void surrounding the Naval vessels, but carefully missing.

"Incoming!" A marine at an arms platform shouted.

"All hands, brace for impact!" Tigurio shouted across the vox net as the ship ploughed through the salvoes of scattered cannonfire. As the ship passed halfway through the barrage zone, a cannonshell struck square in the side of the strike cruiser, exploding in a thunderhawk hangar. "Damage report!"

"Hangar Four and Five on the starboard side are inoperable. Six is sealed off, and the surrounding chambers are being sealed as well. We cannot whether more hits like that!" A rating called out. Tigurio snapped a bolter round in the back of the woman's head.

"We will take as many hits as we must!" Tigurio snarled, then tapped the vox rune "Tansis. NOW." The ship's shields hummed to life, void shields projecting into the warp. At the same time, the cloaking field deactivated. No sooner than the naval fleet was alerted to their proximity, the Space Marines battle barge opened up with all dorsal bombard cannons towards the flagship. They were almost through the bombardment field, and would soon be too close for a loyalist to risk hitting Imperium ships.

As Tigurio maneuvered his ship, the Dark Eldar pirate ships, each no more than the size of a sword class frigate, lurked in the void. The two ships had a firing solution on Tigurio, but if they could avoid announcing themselves, they would.

As Tigurio began to come around the back of the fleet, and as the fleet broke to try and level broadsides on Tigurio's ship, he ordered a boarding torpedo launch, sending one last torpedo at Nero's ship.

[Necris]

"Fire Boarding torpedoes!"

Tass shouted as they weathered the fire being pumped into them, he held onto the pulpit as the ship rocked from a series of salvoes but maintained his footing looking to the bridge crew.

"Damage teams to all levels, Legio assault teams prepare to repel borders, all Astartes to arms."

He watched as their own torpedoes screamed across the void slamming into Flazone's ship where Flazone had sent two they'd sent a dozen, it told Tass alot about the foe he was facing.

"We have more Astartes then they do."

He smiled as he shouted out his orders.

"Bring us around and give them another broadside."

++

Nero slid his helm on having donned his armour he turned collecting his weapons he spoke into a close bead link within his helm.

"Are we set?"

"On your orders."

"Engage."

He turned as blue light coruscated across his armoured form a moment later he was standing in a darkened corridor, a human looked up into his armoured helm fear drawing across their face, he looked down at the degenerate wretch, the cultists dropped his weapon and turned to flee as more teleportation bubbles popped behind him, Nero leapt forward driving his fist into the wretches spine his fist punched clean through shattering his ribs as he collapsed Nero flicked the gore off his hand, he turned to regard the marines behind him, all Luna Wolves they held sword and pistol all save the marine at their head he possessed a pair of bolt pistols a further pair strapped to his hips.

"Grave."

"Captain."

"Where was the target."

"Port side, rear compartments."

"Engineering."

Grave nodded.

"How long do we have?"

"Ten minutes, or until Falzone looks like he's going to jump to warp."

"Forward then, kill everything in sight."

He strode off down the corridor

++

Brak slammed the last of the cultists head into the wall plating shattering the skull under his hand, he growled and panted like a beast as he circled looking down the corridor Raned and the daemon had vanished, their battle taking them back towards the boarding torpedo.

"Captain, are you responding?"

It was Skraal one of his sergeants he gathered his rage swallowing it deep within himself.

"What!"

"We have reports coming from the lower decks, Astartes have boarded us in a second location they say they're us."

Brak snarled, world eaters their fallen kin he turned the snarl into a vicious howl.

"Meet me there, we will butcher our weak kin without aid."

He set off in the direction of the lower decks.

++

In the wake of their launch and the absence of Captain Brak the command of the boarding party fell to Maarl he consulted his helm before waving those marines under his command forward each one bore storm shields and chain axes, several of them carried plasma pistols and they all bore krak and melta grenades. As the entered the first junction he spotted a group of cultists roaring his confidence he stormed ahead unleashing his fury in a bloody assault four were dead before the rest of his marines were on them and tearing them apart, in the bloody and brief combat.

"You know your destinations place the metla charges and get out, we can not afford to linger."

He dismissed the strike teams and led his own team down into the bowels of the ship

[Draco Silverhand]

"Lord! We are boarded!" A cultist shouted to Tigurio. "The torpedoes have struck in the Enginarium, starboard launch bays and the forward assault bay! Reports indicate a full hundred space marines, Pre-heresy World Eaters colors!" Tigurio turned to the fanatic.

"Good!" He bellowed, as he pressed a rune on his arm. "Xanthetus! Spring the trap!"

Tigurio had deigned to send a small measure of men. A sacrifice of his own to unleash hell aboard the enemy ship, but also a piecemeal offering of those bloody bastards in red. Figuring he could doubly do away with them as well as put a dent in the enemy. The reason? To keep the majority of his army aboard his own ship.

"Hell hath fury, like no other." Tigurio snarled. "Cultists of Chaos, DIE FOR ME!" He shouted across the vox net.

Four marine sergeants had been sent with one of the four daemonic artefacts to a segment of the ship. The Nurgle knife, Nachtsterben had been sent into the Enginarium, and as that was Tigurio's greatest concern, he condemned the trespassers there to a plagueridden hell, as a hundred cultists each drank a goblet of poison, while the marine leading them in the chant slit his own throat with the dagger. A Deathguard marine, he probably would have survived the damage, but the symbolic act was far greater, as it opened wide the hellmaw, engulfing him with the essence imbued in the dagger. As he became posessed with the greater daemon of Nurgle, each cultist who had slumped over so recently began to rot, decay, bloat and grow bony protrusions from their flesh. Horns and spikes from heads and elbows, the rotted cultists rose once more, chanting insane blather and profanity against life.

Tigurio, listening to the voxcast dirge of the dead began to laugh, as thousands died aboard the ship, a world eater drank from the goblet of Khorne while his cultists gored themselves, and each other. The Thousand Sons sorceror wielding the Medallion of Oxan sliced his own tongue down the middle, before licking the stone pendant, its weird energies shooting out from him like lightning, mutating half his cultist company and setting the other half on fire. The last act of atrocity onboard the ship was that of the longsword Tigurio had given to a noise marine. The maniac swallowed the sword, throwing his head back and plunging the blade straight down. The cultists around him overdosed on pleasure drugs and pain inducing toxins, while sonic weapons discharged into the crowd until their bodies were overtaken by daemonettes that luridly enjoyed themselves momentarily.

Such improvised daemon summoning was surely not to last long, but each daemon army had a segment of ship to fight for. Nachtsterben in the Enginarium, Blackpraise guarded the Munitorium, Oxan was tasked with holding and retaking all hangars, and Syladril spread its forces to the command, housing training and Navigation areas.

Such arrayed, Tigurio unleashed the remaining Black Knights to perform security sweeps, while the daemons held their respective areas. Other chaos marines, some as old as the Age of Apostasy, had been stationed in their respective zone, corresponding with the daemons they aligned with.

"Come aboard my ship, like I hadn't expected it?" Tigurio snarled. "You shall only serve as fodder."



Draconis looked at the tactical readouts. "Sir..." He looked around, spotting Tass, "I think you should see this."

"What is it?" The aged marine strode over, faster than expected.

"Look there." He pointed on the screen, an energy field sat where there should be none. "It reads similar to Tigurio's cloaking technology, but the signature is more subtle, I would have disregarded it as interference from the star, perhaps a solar flare, but it's too steady, and it can't be a shadow of Tigurio's cloaking device. I was able to track that, after a fashion..." Tass interrupted before Draconis could continue.

"Then why didn't you help with a firing solution?"

"I couldn't." He raised a hand to placate Tass, as if to ask for one moment to explain. "I didn't know what I was seeing. Had it happened before, I would have known the exact location of Tigurio's ship. Look here." He said as he replayed on a separate screen the anomaly. "There, the energy dips below the galactic plane, slightly, as if diving to spike itself into the other naval cluster." He paused the screen. "But look now, there is a second anomaly, it spiked for a moment, as if appearing form nowhere. Not a warp translation, something else." He paused. "I've never seen anything like it, but judging from what Nero said was aboard my uncle's ship, I would say we have an Eldar ship of some sort observing this battle." Tass stood back for a second, then switched to Cthonic Battle Cant, voxed Nero, and bent back over.

"Good eye, Falzone, you'll make the fists proud." He stood and walked back to the command pulpit. "Xeno target detected, follow Sergeant Falzone's coordinate placements, and give me a single broadside cutting short of the alien target." Tass' orders were followed swiftly, the ship shifting slightly meant the broadsides targeting Tigurio would only have partial range, but the warning volley fired at the Eldar craft would hopefully deter them enough to allow him to redirect towards Falzone. "Only good xeno is a dead one."

[Necris]

Maarl led his astartes with deft brutal skill he moved through the ship knowing his bearings he was headed for a major power conduit, Nero and Brak had instructed them to ignore the obvious targets they were to lay waste across the ship, a dozen acts of sabotage to conduits and service lines, alone they would be nothing but combined they could cripple the ship, rob it's forward sections of life support and power, bleed pressure from the Hydraulic systems that powered the gun decks and launch bays, she'd still be able to fly and to jump to warp but there would be few that could survive long with her cold airless insides.

He stopped sniffing the air it had become thick with blood and filth, a sickly sweetness and a acidic tang he swallowed back his rising gore and growled.

"Witchcraft."

His hand snapped left and right and the ten marines behind him fanned out.

"Find the conduit, there should be an access down that way get it open and the charges planted."

Two of his marines broke from the group while the rest held their ground.

"Pistols."

The each drew their pistols as the first of the enemy came into sight world eaters their armour long stained red with gore, as a single body the men under Maarl fired their rounds dropping the first of them then like quicksilver then swapped to chain axes and combat was begun brutal and blood the two groups of world easters clashed roaring and snarling at one another the groups locked in vicious combat, Maarl back handed a tall marine the heavy axe haft crushing his helm before stepping in and stamping on his knee, the armour gave but the limb held his axe took the marines head from his shoulders while his shield took the full force of another attack spinning him round he brought the axe down into the attack opening his chest. His two marines came back and joined the fight their added fury tipping the battle, Maarl noted that they were both missing their charges.

"Kill these miscreants and withdraw our work is done."

He ducked under a wild swing and a second caught him in the face tearing his helm from his head, snarling at the attacker he smashed his shield into the offending marine sending him reeling, he released the shield as another came at him side stepping the axe he gripped the weapons haft and drew his own axe across the marines throat taking the two weapons he launched himself into battle once again.

"Reports from the others, they are meeting heavy resistance."

"Have they done their jobs?"

"Fifty percent of objectives met."

"Not enough."

Maarl hacked the last head from the traitor marine and looked around less than half of his men remained, he ordered their charges collected and looked at his men, they were caked in blood and gore almost to the same extent as the traitors.

"Loose the shields, they give us away."

His marines threw the shields aside and looked at him as they formed up around him.

"We strike deeper, try and pass our selves off as them, get as many of the charges set as possible."

They all nodded and followed as he strode off.

++

Nero stepped back the Black Knight falling at his feet he looked down the length of the dorsal spine from here he could strike at any point of the ship and he knew where he was destined, the reclusium the heart of any modern ship the temple at the centre of the ship, on his own ship it was the hall of memories, here it would be a twisted and perverted space.

They headed for the temple reclusium,

Nero could feel the unease of the ship what ever Falzone had done did not sit well the ship recoiled at the horror he'd visited upon it, the very hull creaked and complained with the powers contained within, he touched a name plate of the ship as they

"What horrors has he visited upon you?"

[Draco Silverhand]

"The pink kind." A daemonette said from the shadows, stepping out, her lithe form slinking towards Nero. "And the purple... And various other forms of daemons. Such as ourselves..." She gracefully bowed, the trance of her presence momentarily ensnaring Nero and his marines. "But, such are we... We are not horrors, dear traitor. We are the reality that Man, Eldar, and indeed all life has created. We are not some enemy to be fought, but the beuatiful quintessence and culmination of creation!" Her voice raised in pitch to a shriek as she finished, like a slight climax as she took another step forward. "Do not fear or abhor us... join us..." Her words were cut short. In the moment her lips had uttered the word "us", Nero had drawn his sword, activated the runes on it, and sliced her head clear from her shoulders. Not watching it roll around, mouthing empty promises, Nero stepped forward as shrieks of rage and hate echoed, a dozen daemonettes stepping lithely from the shadows, their hands and arms morphing into whiplike tentacles, crablike pincers or simply growing razor sharp claws. The nearest shrieked at the top of her lungs as she leapt, flying through the air at Nero.

"DIE!"



Tigurio stood grimly on his command podium, a mask of hate glaring down on his minions. His helmet had been holstered on his belt for the time being, and with the helmet off, he smelled a rat.

"Something is amiss." He said. "All patrols report." He voxed.

"Kartarion reporting. Death guard patrols all accounted for."

"Torthnochta reporting. Thousand Sons patrols remain unharassed."

"Sanza reporting. Emperor's Children patrols have met hostile invaders. They broke cover under the power of our sonic blasters. In pursuit."

"Identify legion colors." Tigurio voxed.

"Sons of Horus."

"Black Legion patrol, report."

"Hanz here, we heard. En route to location now."

"Hold there. Let them drive the enemy to you."

"Kratos, report." Silence. "Kratos of the World Eaters. Report." Silence.

"Lord." A voice more human than expected answered after a moment. "Patrol Alpha Niner Zero Seven here. We've come across dead World Eaters."

"How many?" Tigurio asked.

"Fifteen, Lord." The traitor guardsmen answered.

"Alert! All patrols beware. Allied World Eaters dead. Kill any walking World Eater on sight."

"Aye Lord." A unanimous report came back.

"Erl Krung." Tigurio switched to a separate vox, and spoke so softly as if to keep someone standing next to him unaware of the conversation.

"Night Lords patrols all accounted for. We've run into various loyalists from the traitor legions. None from our legion, sadly, and none from the Iron Warriors. I suspect they are trying to disable the power systems to kill life support. They haven't made a direct assault on the Enginarium or Munitorium, which are most heavily guarded with daemons of Nurgle and Khorne." Krung spoke so softly that despite having his vox bead at full volume, Tigurio could barely make out the words.

"Report back to me as soon as your men are in place. Let these fools be haunted by their memories of boarding my ship.



Draconis hovered for a moment, before calling out to Tass.

"We've got a problem." Tass looked at him, slight chagrin passing over his features. He'd come to trust Draconis enough to know he could assess information accurately. "There's more than one Eldar pirate ship, and they're not the friendlier type either. Druuchi." Tass scowled.

"The one thing, Draconis Falzone, that you shall learn before I let you leave this bridge is that there is no such thing as friendly Eldar. There are only sneaky, cunning, untrustworthy Eldar, and their sinister but more plainly motivated cousins, the Dark Eldar. And stop using that underhive nickname for them. It's unbecoming of a space marine." Draconis bowed his head slightly.

"My apologies. I never meant to imply that either ancient and degraded race would be considered friendly, I simply meant to point out that the Eldar ships sitting cloaked by the world Tigurio just razed happen to be of the more overtly hostile and psychotic nature, and are more numerous than the original readings had indicated."

"How many?" Tass cut to the chase.

"Two. Just two, I'm sure of it this time." Tass nodded.

"Then plot me a firing solution, transfer it to the ordnance deck, and let's see them survive torpedoes while cloaked."

[Koval]

Barging past another headless Naval crewman, I passed through an open doorway and into the biggest room I'd seen on the entire ship.

The generarium was enormous. I couldn't really begin to guess at the size with more crewmen shooting at me, but I'll warrant that two Emperor Titans could have stood on each other's backs and still not touched the ceiling; were it not for the huge generators and reactors all along the floor and walls, necessitating the network of gantries I stood on, you could easily have crammed a good couple of Guard regiments into a roo, of this size, armoured support and all, and still have been able to move around freely.

Up on the higher gantries I could see the defenders trying to take pot shots at me, but the problem with shotguns is that the shot itself spreads out a lot over a distance, so the worst I suffered was a rain of individual buckshot balls, robbed of much of their force and impact by the distance between the firer and myself. However, I really wasn't in the mood to close the distance and risk turning into mincemeat, so I found myself looking for another way round.

Working at various terminals were lower-ranking Tech-Priests, overseen by a more senior enginseer. My initial aim had admittedly been to hijack a terminal and, stripped for time, mash buttons at random until something failed, but with the defenders now forming something of a living barricade, that wasn't an option any more. I could have rushed the defenders at great risk to myself, or I could have cut it really fine and wasted time finding another entrance with fewer defenders.

None of that really occurred to me at the time, but under the circumstances I don't think it would've made a difference either way. Ultimately, my solution, though unorthodox, worked, and certainly gave the defenders pause for thought.

Locking my chainsword in the active position, I turned and threw it as hard as I could into the first generator I came to, before retreating back through the doorway at a run; judging by the noise behind me, and the sudden blackout along the corridor (not to mention a sharp loss of artificial gravity, though thankfully it hadn't failed entirely), I'm convinced that it worked, and moreover, that I'd taken out a few other generators as well as the one I'd been aiming for.

"Let's see what you can do now," I mused as I ran back towards the boarding torpedo.

[Necris]

Time was running short, Maarl checked the countdown and frowned they were so deep in the ship there was no turning back now, he had three marines left now having come into contact with other patrols they'd battled their way deeper and deeper.

His body ached from a bolt wound to his chest yet he kept his feet and his fury powered him ever onwards he'd set three more charges along his way and he carried the detonators himself and now there was one destination he looked down the corridor at the Munitorium, inside h the dooreet the hate and fury boiling from behind the bulkhead, his marines were on either side of it setting krak grenades, as they withdrew he lowered himself into a crouch and waited.

++

Tass cursed as the lighting flickered looking around.

"Situation report?"

"Primary generators down, switching to secondary generators."

"What of my firing solutions?"

"Still locked on."

"Then fire."

++

Brak strode down the corridor his weapon held firmly and ready a world eater stood opposite him, the last of their number the rest having been butchered or in the process of being butchered by his astartes, he removed his helm hooking it to his hip.

"It's been a long time Largon."

"It has Brak, not since Istvaan."

"Time to settle the score then."

Brak launched himself down the corridor taking Largon from his feet the two of the rolled snarling and snapping at one another, coming on top Brak smashed his fist into Largon's throat cutting his breath short he tried to get his axe round to end Largon but the weapons locked, he let go of the weapon grabbing his helm he smashed it into Largon's face cracking the helm under it. He reached down and drew his dagger from his boot bringing it up in a rapid strike he drove it into Largon's eye slit, he roared as the blade bit in throwing Brak from him, rolling he came to his feet his bolt pistol in his hand.

"Die you bastard."

He blew Largon's head from his body.

"Tass is the ship secure?"

"Neagtive one target moving back towards the first torpedo, and the daemon is still engaged with Raneb."

"Understood, what of the boarding teams?"

"We've recovered half of the teams three more are tied up and we've lost contact with the rest."

He sighed so many lost.

"Understood keep me informed."

++

Nero stepped aside from the daemonette as it slashed it's claws at him, he slid past another attack and another moving back down the corridor the daemonette hissed in glee as it scored a line across his armour.

"You are no match for me Nero."

He stopped side stepping the final attack his hand smashing her in the face, she recoiled entering a crouch her talons aimed at him.

"You think I have survived ten millennia without being able to defend myself?"

She launched herself at him with a ecstatic howl on her lips which turned into a started cry as Nero swung his bolt pistol round firing it at point blank range into her face, her body snapped back vanishing into purple mist as she fell. He turned cutting another in two before he blew three holes in the next, his astartes were killing the daemonettes with fury, Grave stepped like a dancer his guns blazing and gunning down the enemy his movement was in contrast with the rest of the squad who cut and hacked with well practised and disciplined attacks each one expertly timed and executed with controlled rage.

It took only a few minutes to end the last of the daemonettes and Nero once again set off for the temple, Grave moved to his side.

"We only have six minutes left captain."

"More than enough time."

++

The Bulk head exploded in wards crushing a swath of possessed deck hands the four Astartes charged in hacking and cleaving without mercy slashing and killing as they pushed into the Munitorium, Maarl laid eyes upon the hulking form a daemon of Khorne and growled his challenge.

"Daemon, know I do not fear you."

He opened his weapons in a stance leaving himself open to the possessed all around him.

"NO!, THIS ONE IS MINE!"

The voice was like thunder his reverberated round the Munitorium. Maarl looked round at his Astartes they battled with the possessed cutting hacking fighting one died his head pulled from his body another stumbled and was set upon by the mob around him the last battled a dozen foes cutting them down like wheat, he turned to the daemon knowing this would be the place of his death, he smiled baring his teeth in a wild grin.

"Today is a good day, For the Emperor!"

He surged toward  axes held wide cutting into those around him as he charged Blackpraise, he threw one of his axes the heavy blade digging into the daemons chest, as he rushed in he pulled something from his belt depressing a red stud on the small device he launched himself into the air axe hacking down burring deep into Daemon, It pulled him free holding him like a rag doll before it's maw, Maarl spat into it's face.

"Die Daemon!"

It looked down at Maarl's chest it's expression changing as the lights on the melta charges blinked.

Maarl detonated vanishing in a ball of super heated plasma the heat cooking off the nearest munitions and engulfing the Munitorium in explosive fire.

++

Nero staggered as the ship rocked violently they were only a few dozen feet from the temple and he growled as several secondary explosions rumbled through the ship, Grave spoke as he reloaded his bolters.

"Looks like our brothers have done their task."

"Then we best hurry."

Nero strode forward his armoured book kicking open the temple doors.

[Draco Silverhand]

[OOC: Still no takers on the Navy captain, eh? Oh well.]

"All guns, prepare to fire!" The order rang out across the port side gun decks. "We give only enough time for the space marines to evacuate, and then we give what for!" Slave drivers stood vigilant over the ratings hauling behemoth guns, sweat, grease and gunpowder fouling the air. The guns, on rails, took several minutes to reload, and in the moments since the boarding torpedoes had hit, each crew had been given plenty of time to reload, rearm and calibrate the guns to precision. When the order came to fire, they would surely obliterate Tigurio's ship.

"All hands, brace for impact!" As the vox called out, bombard shells ripped through the hull. The naval captain had blundered in assuming a space marine assault would prevent a space marine assault. Even as the primary munitorium bay erupted in blue and orange plasma into the void, the strike cruiser remained ready to fire, and proved so by firing a second volley into the nearby naval ships, destroying all but the battleship herself. Scarred, the ship began to list to starboard.

"All hands open fire, before we drift too far!" The order held a note of desperation, before the vox could deactivate, a sharp report of gunfire echoed through the ship.

"This is Commissar Danin. I am in command of this vessel. Make for the nearest Imperial Navy dock for repairs." The order was brief. Obviously, the Commissar had his reasons. The captain had willfully not opened fire on an enemy vessel, had cost the fleet the majority of support vessels, and almost cost the flagship. Quit the battle now, and perhaps preserve one of the Emperor's mighty warships for another day. However, in all likelihood, the Commissar would be shot too, by an Inquisitor or some other bureaucracy motivated uptight who would argue the Commissar was a coward for leaving the battle. Regardless, the naval vessel began to list in the direction of a nearby planet with an Imperial Navy dock.



"Lord, the marines fire upon us." A voice in a dark command nodule spoke softly, sibilantly. "Shall we engage evasive maneuvers?"

"Take us above the galactic plane by the distance between us and our enemy. Power up the dark lances and plot me a firing solution." Another voice in the gloom. The eyes of the dark eldar lord glowering at the viewscreen were shrouded in unnatural dark. "And get that damn haemonculous to take this nightshade contraption out of here..." He added with a bit of disdain. "We're scary enough without people seeing us sitting in a pitch black cockpit."

"Yes, lord."

[Necris]

His eyes scanned the temple interior and his bile rose the place had been desecrated first by the Imperial Creed and then by Chaos, he saw the signs of the old Creed replaced with the foul glyphs of dark powers he stepped into the chamber the marines behind him fanning out, with a quick gesture of his sword four of the marines detached from the group moving into the temple where they started laying charges.

"Be quick time is short."

Grave's voice was a hiss as he strode across the room heading for the altar and what ever had been sacrificed over it, something moved to his right and he brought one of his pistols up, a Chaplain came from the darkness his Crozius Arcanum swung out striking Grave sending him spinning through the air and crashing into the darkness at the edge of the chamber. The Chaplain rushed towards Nero his weapon coming down to crush the Captain's head.

"I will not let you defile this place!"

Nero stepped to the side as the Crozius Arcanum swung down creasing the floor with it's force, it came up and instant later and connected his Nero's sword sparks flew as the pair locked weapons the Chaplain hissed through his helm at Nero.

"Are your marines just going to let me kill you?"

"They know not to get involved in my fights."

Their weapons broke and the Crozius swung in again his weapon stopping dead as Nero brought his blade up to parry, the Chaplains fist snaked out connecting with Nero's helm twisting him from the weapon as he turned his foot lashed out sending the chaplain reeling, as he stood he removed his helm hooking it too his belt, his grey alabaster skin matching his armour. They came at one another again their weapons crashing against one another as they rained blow after blow at one another Nero stopping and swatting the Chaplains blows with ease, he lashed out again with his foot lifting his opponent from his feet and rolling him across the floor. 

The Chaplain corrected himself and drew his bolt pistol firing a shot off, Nero swatted the shot aside with his power sword and stepped into combat their weapons clashed sparks flying before Nero stepped round under the Crozius his sword raking the side of the Chaplains armour, recoiling the Chaplain held his weapon in defence as Nero stepped in again swatting the weapon aside he kicked the Chaplain back against the wall of the chamber as he slumped forward he swatted the Crozius from his grip and stepped in to end it pausing as his eyes fell upon a item on the marines armour.

"An Ultramarine, so ever the great Guilliman's kin can fall."

He laughed as he brought his blade back to thrust it into the throat of the Fallen Chaplain staggering as the ship rocked again as a series of secondary explosions tore through the ship, as he Staggered the Chaplain rolled free of the Nero's grip blood pumping from the wound in his side he staggered bringing his pistol up, Nero recovered his own pistol aimed.

Nero paused as an aura of power built round him the chaplain fired his bolt pistol as Nero vanished in the wake of his teleportation aura. The Chaplain looked round cursing as the charges flashed he fled from the chamber as the detonation tore it apart.

Nero re-materialised on the staging deck and looked round.

"Where is Grave?"

One of the other marines looked at him.

"I'm still registering him on unit comms, he's still active."

"Can we teleport him?"

"Negative, there is too much interference round him we can't get a lock on him."

++

Grave landed heavily he'd forced his way through a grill dropping into the innards of the ship surrounded by wires, cables and piping he was in a space that was only just large enough for him to fit in, as the flames from the detonation above washed over him setting off warning of his armour, he weathered the heat his skin searing within the armour as the surface became super heated.

He lay there waiting for his armour to cool before he crawled off deeper into the bowels of the ship. q

[Draco Silverhand]

Fury built within Tigurio. He listened to the tactical readouts of what was happening across his ship. His daemons were eluded or destroyed, his ship's main life support functions were in disarray and despite a gambit against the Imperial Navy ships, he was still outgunned by this unidentified Imperial craft. Turning from the bridge, he placed a hand on the shoulder of Orrus, his Chaos' Champion.

"Bring us about the other side of this moon, and drop us into the warp. We are needed elsewhere." He commanded, before leaving the bridge to consult with the daemonhost in his quarters.



"Lord... the Monkeigh ship, crippled and fleeing is powering up its warp drives. If we engage them, we will not be able to escape the translation..." A dark eldar ensign said to his lord.

"Very well. We give this quarry ground... for now... He bores me."



Draconis turned to the command pulpit.

"The strike cruiser's going to drop into the warp. Reccomend we move to a safe distance, sir."