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+Forgotten Sons+ “A forgotten blade retains its edge…” 'How insular is Chapter 333? Well it depends entirely on their mood; with some being quite open, while others often as not sulk or ignore you. In the time I dealt with them, I could never truly say I knew their true character.' -Lord Astor Glaber, "Beyond the Light of the Emperor: A Privateers Tale" Astor Glaber grunted as he ripped the rapier from the guts of the spindly A’ltuu scout, the alien’s cerulean blood spattering across the privateer’s face. Behind him, he heard a wet crunch and snap fired his arklock, the lightning gun obliterating the insectoid that had it’s mandibles deep in the chest plate of one of his scions. Glaber, the youngest son of the formidable Rogue Trader family, had found himself in the employ of one the fleets escorting the Lord Regent’s primaris marines to a forgotten region of space, though the fact that a chapter could have survived this long, so far from the galactic core, had seemed impossible. However, the young Glaber, at the time, a tender twenty-two and in command of his first vessel, had leapt at the opportunity to make something of himself in the years following the schism of the galaxy. That, of course, had been ten years prior, and while Astor had seen his share of wonders on the edge of Mankind’s great empire, he more often found himself in situation like today: balls deep in unknown xenos forms, hoping desperately that Chapter 333 would arrive as promised. As more of the yellow and black insectoids began to push into the atrium, Glaber cursed, the guttural slurs black enough that even a Necromundan ganger would have taken pause at some of his word choice. “Where in the three hells is Sjakpaba?” He roared into his vox, not really expecting a response, though hoping that the smooth tone of the Gatebreaker Gnostic would respond. His vessel, the light cruiser Solinus had been carrying fresh supplies for the long out of contact 5th strike force, and had been caught in low orbit as they had begun to ferry the supplies to the designated dropzone. Alien raiders had broken out of the black of the void, laser weaponry burning two of his escorts before they could even raise shields, with boarding pods already streaking towards his anchored fleet. Within an hour of engagement, the sons and daughters of the Imperium were fighting and dying to hold on to their vessels, Astor Glaber included. Astor shoved one of his bodyguards into the path of a marauding Mandarinia elite, whose hooked stinger glistened with the potent neurotoxin that had tested even the resiliency of the Adeptus Astartes. The yellow and black striations on its carapace were dappled with the red of the rest of his retinue, and while Glaber was no slouch with a rapier, he did not like his odds against the chittering warrior. Uttering a quick prayer to the Emperor, Astor braced himself to die, wishing desperately that he had smoked the Macraggian Cigarillo this morning instead of maintaining his diet. “Fething Astartes, useless fething arseholes.” He growled, not bothered that his vox was open, nor for the arguable blasphemy of his words. His rapier snapped, embedded in the carapace of his opponent and Glaber grimaced, looking up at the clacking mandibles of the 7 foot insect. The beast lunged forward, and the void prince heard a boom and felt warmth spreading across his face as he fell to his knees. He smiled, eyes closed, surprised at how little pain there was. The heat, he assumed, was the beneficence of the Emperor, carrying him to his side. He however, was wrong, as he was roughly dragged to his feet, the booms now echoing rhythmically around him. Opening one eye, he was greeted by the image of a giant in green and yellow, who’s pale face was broken with a rather large grin. Gnostic Sjakpaba, alongside his rift team, had arrived. As the Astartes veterans quickly began to drive back the xenos, Astor’s vox bead crackled and he heard the bemused response of the Gatebreaker lord: “Useless. That is a grave insult little prince. Maybe next time I am not so quick in arriving. Let bug implant you with eggs. Then we see who is useless.” [Gnostic Kixang Sjakpaba, Lord of the 5th Strikeforce] [Member-Cardinal Janus Tor, Firstborn] This is my take on Apologist's lovely Gatebreakers, which I am sure many members of this forum are familiar with. All credit for lore and color schemes goes to him, and you should absolutely visit his thread Here