All is Dust

[Gree]

All is Dust

Prologue


You were on Xalas yes?

The Library on Zelosia Square, the National Library of Xalas Secundus. You were it’s chief curator of rare books and data-stacks. A noble job I might add. You did very good work from what I had seen.

You fear me now, but to tell the truth I hardly care if you fear or not. I have what I came now and I had the state of mind and the kindness to bring you along, which is more than you probably deserve. You should have felt glad, if I had not come along the Emperor’s own wardogs would have trampled it underground in their typical ignorance.

So don’t fear, relax and let me speak to you. You accuse me of being a traitor eh? Really? You clearly don’t know of who you are speaking to.

Let me tell you of the Emperor’s former warriors……..

…….The Thousand Sons.




I was born, as with many of the legion, on Prospero. I lived at Tizca, the beautiful City of the Light. A glorious place which humanity will never have the chance to see again sadly.

My father was a member of one of the philosopher guilds in town. My mother was died from a disease early on in my life. However I had a companion…. My cousin, Bakari Xalpia…….


The speeder pulled up to the ancient ruin, the old grav-engine purring and then shrieking as the speeder came to a halt. Bakari, the older boy leant forward and set the speeder in a resting position.

‘’Ishkor? Are you alight?’’ he asked.

Ishkor turned to meet him. He was young, twelve years old, with his face already losing its baby fat. His dark hair was cut short and straight in comparison to Bakari’s curly blonde hair. Bakari was older by almost a year, as well as being bigger and stronger than Ishkor. But Ishkor minded little. The boy was a reliable friend, if a little bellicose and rather proud for his age. He supposed it was for his father. Faros Xalphia was a member of the Prosperite Spireguard after all.

‘’The Desolation is just so….creepy’’ Iskor commented.

Bakari chuckled. ‘’You scared?’’

‘’No.’’ Ishkor replied, a little too quickly. Bakari smiled. He patted his autogun.

‘’Don’t worry, I’ve taken a hunting rifle. Father has taught me to use it. We will be safe’’ he stepped out of the speeder.

‘’Let’s go.’’ Bakari said.

They had traveled deep into the Desolation, past blackened frameworks of iron arranged into large grid-like squares. These were the ruins of one of the long-destroyed cities on Prospero’s past. Overhead the sun beat down hotly.

They found a larger, more intact house. One that looked bigger with a pair of larger wings that divided the complex. Bakari finished through his pocket for a pict-graph. He stared at it.

‘’This looks like the place Questus Museum.’’ he declared. He looked at Iskor.

‘’Do you want to go in or should I?’’ Bakari asked.

‘’No, I’ll go in.’’ Ishkor did not want to look scared in front of Bakari, not at all.

He went through the open doorway, shuffling past tiles and pieces of rubble that that had fallen from the ceiling or crumbled from the walls. He supposed it looked rather dangerous.

But he continued on.

Light stabbed through holes in the walls and ceiling on the first floor from outside. However much of the area was shrouded in shadow. Iskor tried to stay close to the light as he could. He looked around. Weathered husks replaced paint frames. Shattered statures were strewn around their pedestals. Exhibits were completely gone in some bases.

It saddened him to see a place of so much learning destroyed and wrecked like this. One it had been the heart and pride of the Prosperite Hinterlands. Now it was a ghost city.

Someone touched his shoulder. He turned around hurriedly. It was Bakari who grinned.

‘’Don’t get so excited.’’ he went past. Iskor noticed he clutched the autorifle tight. H looked around the room, walking around the destroyed exhibits, searching for their objective.

‘’’It’s probably destroy, the Book of Yalol I mean.’’ he said.

‘’Maybe’’ Bakari shrugged. ‘’I’m not going to give up so easily.’’ He walked over a skeletal staircase.

‘’Are you heading up?’’ Iskor asked nervously, he did not like the state of this building.

‘’Sure.’’ Bakari replied flippantly. Iskor cursed softly and move dup after them.

They emerged on the second level of the building, this floor being darker than the previous one before. It gave Iskor the creeps but he forced his fear back in his chest.

‘’Come on, come on, were are you?’’ asked Bakari as he walked deeper into the floor, pulling out a small flashlight as he did so. The beam of light that issued forth was pathetically small.

Ishkor moved cautiously, arms outstretched, not wanting to fall through the floor and injure himself, suddenly his foot hit something hard. He looked around, eyes desperately trying to adjust in the half-light of the room/

It was a human skull.

He stumbled back, going right back towards the original stairway entrance, retracing his steps. When he got back there was a gunshot and Bakari was running like hell towards him.

‘’Wha-‘’ he was cut off by the sound of buzzing wings.

‘’Psychneuein!’’ he yelled as Iskor got the hint. They both ran desperately down the stairs and into the lower floor of the building. A part of the staircase snapped under their running feet behind them, but they did not care.

Ishkor and Bakari ran desperately, hearts pounding at the rush of adrenaline. Iskor dared to glance back. The huge, insect like psychneuenin buzzed towards them, their wings practical invincible in the darkness. The stinger waved menacingly in the half-light.

‘’We ar’t going to make it! Run! I’ll cover you!’’ Bakari stopped and fired his autorifle at the pursing psychneuein two of them exploded as the heavy rounds blew them apart. Bakari had always been a good shot.

Iskor stumbled as he reached the entrance, he hand reaching for the corner. He froze up. He turned around watching Bakari shoot another. The psychneuein were obviously sluggish after a long hibernation. He could see the speeder in the distance, but if he took that then Bakari would surely die. He did not want to leave the boy who decided to selflessly sacrifice for him. He was not worthy if he left.

But if he left he would die!

He did not want to die! Not here with his father and friends still back home. He did not want to waste Bakari’s sacrifice. His heart pounded. He had to make a decision soon.

His fingers shook with stress as he stumbled towards the exit. He looked behind one last time. Bakari was still standing him ground. The psychneuein were closing on.

I don’t know what to do!

Blue fire ignited in the air, striking the first psychneuein. He crashed into the ground, several feet away from Bakari, through the air a torrent of fire flew at the psychneuein who were thrown into disarray. Something ignited Bakari’s hair and he dropped the rifle, swearing and running. Ishkor was already out the door and they ran as fast as they could to the waiting speeder. Bakari hurriedly ran in as Ishkor strapped himself in.

The speeder moved out, rapidly, away from the museum, which was now starting to burn more rapidly. In less than a minute the speeder was roaring away from the Desolation. The embers on Bakari’s head were eventually beaten out as they stopped over a mile form the outskirts of the city. Ishkor breathed heavily as he realized how close to death they had come.

‘’Ishkor.’’ Bakari said, grimacing at his burned head.

‘’Y-yes?’’

‘’Your nose and ears and bleeding’’ Ishkor brought a hand to his face and pulled it back. It was covered in a thin sheen of blood. Bakari looked at him with concern.

‘’I-I-‘’ Iskor began.

‘’Don’t worry about it, let’s get back to Tizca’’ Bakari said, gunning the speeder into the distance.


After that I swore to always be brave. I could not live with myself like that. I could not be a coward. I tried to purge myself of all fear. When the recruitment for the Thousand Sons Legion came into the central districts of Tizca Bakari was one of the first to join the latest crop.

And I , the good friend, the follower, joined him as well.

The initial tests were exhausting, the Astartes only accepted the best after all. We were tested both in the mind and body. We passed the tests, until the final one came before we where officially accepted as initiates……

Bakari looked upwards as Umar came stumbling up the hill, his skin slick with sweat, and his breathing heavily. He shouldered his autogun as he came up near the older boy’s position.

‘’Where are Tolas and Atep?’’ Bakari asked.

‘’Dead,’’ Umar breathed out. ‘’The hunters are behind them.’’

Recruitment squad Hawk had already lost two of it’s nine members. That was bad. The recruitment squad ha been gathered from various hopefuls and put under a senior boy who showed command promise and sent out for the hunting trials. The whole thing was quite simple, they were being hunted by specialized combat servitors who would try to track down and kill them with live rounds. It was relatively typical of the Astartes training programme.

They had been issued flak armor, combat fatigues and autorifles along with basic rations. After they had been dropped off by a Thousand Sons Stormbird they had occupied a tall grassy hill as their temporary camp.

They were not told were the servitors were though.

Bakari had immediately taken control, his natural presence and clear head marking him out as a leader. As such he had ordered Umar, Tolas and Atep to scout out for exactly were the servitors were while the rest of Hawk stayed on the hill.

‘’Where exactly?’’ Bakari asked.

Umar pointed in the distance, several hundred meters away, squinting Iskor could make out three large shapes coming around a nearby copse. They would take a few minutes before they got into weapons range.

‘’They are tracked units, with autoguns and chainblades for close combat.’’ Umar explained quickly.

Bakari took this in rapidly, forming a plan.

‘’The Scarab’s teeth.’’ he decided. Indicating the broken terrain in the distance.

‘’You want to trap them there? It’s rough terrain, their treads won’t fare well.’’ Nassor Ishum asked. He was one of the other boys, around Ishok’s age. He was something of a joker.

‘’Correct, and we have to move now, we are faster than the Hunters but I don’t want to waste time.’’ Bakari ordered. Rapidly Recruitment squad Hawk followed him out.

Over the hills and past several well-worn paths Hawk came to the Scarab’s teeth. It was several deep ravines in the middle of a field of granite slabs that rose haphazardly out of the earth.

Bakari quickly explained his plan to the rest of squad Hawk. He would lead the servitors on, using the stones as cover. Umar, Ishok and Nassor would deploy to one flank and circle around the servitors after he lead them away while Valu and Apok would snipe at the Hunters with everything they had. In all together, it looked like a good plan and the rest of squad Hawk quickly and hurriedly deployed into their positions. After all, not only were their lives were at stake but their initiation into the Thousand Sons.

Ishkor knelt in the ravine, choosing a deep one with several rocks at the end. It was right near the middle of the Scarab’s Teeth. He curled dirt beneath his fingers, readying his autogun. He was a reasonably good shot with a weapon, but it never felt like his true calling. But he was willing to take anything against the hunter servitors and it was certainly better than a rock.

Something coughed above. It was the sound of autogun fire, but not the lower caliber rifles that squad Hawk used. It was the heavier roar of bigger and heavier weaponry. He heard Bakari curse. His heart pounded as adrenaline flooded his body in the ‘’flight or fight’’ response. He steadied himself. He would fight. Quickly he glanced around and saw Umar and Nassor wave him over.

Quickly the boys peered over a large rock. Three large shapes came into view. The servitors were pale-skinned human bodies plugged into movement units and sheathed with layers of flak mail. Their arms were a matched autogun and blade pair. Bakari was darting quickly among the stone formations, the bullets pinging off the rocks as the slow servitors tracked him. These could not be war servitors, Ishok realized they were took slow than he had heard about from Bakari’s father.

Instead these were training ones disguised as war servitors, albeit still deadly to the flak armor clad initiates. At a short word from Nassor Ishkor followed the other two boys behind another rock. Then a shot rang out and one of the servitors exploded. It was Apok who made the kill shot, who gave a triumphant whoop, which lasted for barely three seconds before the other two servitors targeted him and blew his brains out.

Ishkor winced in shock. Apok had stuck his head too far out. But were the servitors really that easy to kill?

He was answered soon enough by Valu firing at the servitors with his rifle. His rounds pinged off the armor-sheathed bodies of the hunters as they fired again, having bullets pinging off of him. It was a lucky shot, Ishkor realized. Poor Apok must have gotten a lucky shot through one of the armor joints into the ammunition carrier in the servo tracks. However it was unlikely that the feat could he replicated.

Bakari hid behind a rock as the servitors halted and came up. Ishok inched behind them, circling around another rock formation. Evidently the servitors could only detect what was in front of them.

They appeared to be stuck at the rocks. Ishok noticed one get wedged between a ravine and a jagged stone. He tried to press on, but the ground was too rocky and uneven to proceed. Bakari took the opportunity to fire off a brief burst before another hail of bullets forced his head down. Breathing hesitantly, Ishok began to aim with his rifle at the rear armor of the servitors.

Then to his shock, the servitors began to writhe before stepping out of their track units. A pair of mechanical limbs was soon revealed to Ishok’s shock as the two servitors began to march coldly to where Bakari was. A trick them, these servitors had backup legs in case for rough terrain. A cold realization hit Ishok. They were going to die. Bakari was going to die. They were going to fail and be forgotten.

Something sized him. He got up, yelling and running. Something welled up inside if him. He would not let Bakari, his friend, die under a hail of bullets. One of the Servitors turned, sensors locking on his form. In the distance he heard Bakari shout something. Heat filled the air as a massive fireball ignited in the air and hurled itself at one of the lead servitors. It was engulfed in fire. A high shriek of binary exploded form it’s vox unit.

It toppled over, flaming and writhing into the nearby ravine. In less than a minute it would become a burnt and blackened husk. Incinerated by the unreal fire that Ishok had produced.

Meanwhile to his right the other servitors collpased, blood boiling in it’s veins and Nassor bathed it in lighting. In seconds, it took was dead, it’s organic portions annihilated by Nassor’s own powers.

It was over.

Bakari stumbled out behind the rock, crossing the ravine cautiously, he went up to Ishok, who looked at him in amazement.

‘’I’m sorry, I ran out-‘’ Ishok began.

‘’You are bleeding.’’ Bakari said. He grasped Ishkor’s hand and pointed to his right eye.

‘’He’s right, like tears of blood.’’ huffed Nassor who came up.

Ishok wiped away blood form his cheek. His right eye began to hurt.

‘’Pyrokine?’’ he mumbled.

In the distance a great shape flew over the white mountains in the distance and landed nearby. Silently, the rest of Hawk stumbled towards it.



As it turned out, it was not a test to have us accepted into the Astartes. Oh, sure, it was a nice way to decide, but the real marker of the test was to see how developed the psychic powers of the recruits were.

Placing them in danger forced them to manifest their powers more. It was a crude, early training method, but effective nonevertheless. Upon learning I was a pyrokine, I was overjoyed. You see on Prospero, psykers were welcomed and revered, not shunned on other planets. As such my induction into the Thousand Sons was practically assured

And indeed it was. When he returned to the Pyramids of Ticza I was inducted as a Neophyte into the Thousand Sons legion and sent into the cult of the Pyrae. I was a pyrokine, one who could control, manipulate and generate fire and heat.

Such a gift was powerful, fortunately I had powerful masters to help me. Nassor Ishum was a biomancer, he soon joined the Pathoi. As for poor Bakari, he did not posses the needed psychic powers. Technically he was a psyker, however his powers were so small it was almost negligible. He would never be able to wield them in any significant manner. In other words that meant he was essentially condemned as a line marine.

Bakari was accepted, he met all requirements and was sensitive enough to feel psykers, but my friend, who was braver, stronger, smarter and faster, would never lead a squad. If it was any other legion Bakari would have been an officer.

But in the Thousand Sons it was your powers that played a part.

Bakari bless him, never held as grudge against me. He was my most loyal battle brother……

I first met him again, after many years in the Librarium training facilities. I was assigned to an Adept Minor named Asten Aktar. I myself achieved the rank of initiate when I first entered war properly at the fields of Fadas………..

[Dosjetka]

This is...amazing! I'm surprised that no one else has commented. This is pure goodness. I love the training part and the story is really well told. A few points of punctuation are missing, but apart from that it's perfect. I give you a solid 9.5/10

Good work! <_<

 

Are you going to be writing more?

[Gree]

Yes, this is the tip of the iceberg.

 

I have the story planned out into multiple parts.

 

Zelator-3 parts (Detailing the battle on Fadas)

Practicus-4 (Were Ishkor becomes a Practicus and fightd alongside the Salamanders legion and their primarch Vulkan against the Eldar)

Philosiphus-3(Ishkor, freshly ascended to the rank of Philosophus fights alongside the Space Wolves on Shrike)

Prospero's Lament-5 parts (The battle of Prospero )

The Rubric (Showing the aftermath of it, )

 

That's the Heresy part of All is Dust, after that we will get more modern tales of war set in the 41st millenium.

 

 

Here is the begining of Zealator and the war on Fadas....

 

Zealator-1

 

 

‘’Are you okay Grannus?’’ Bakari asked him.

 

The young Zelator looked around. ‘’Oh, sorry’’

 

It had been three years since the day at the training fields of the Scarab’s Teeth, and Ishkor had grown significantly from the fresh neophyte that had unleashed his powers for the first real time. His features had grown out in the broad feature of the Astartes, however his cheeks were high and his features patrician. His skin had a ruddy, reddish tone to it, something not uncommon to the sons of Magnus.

 

He wore a suit of the new MKIII plate, the crimson armor gleaming. The left shoulder guard bore the symbol of the Thousand Sons legion. In the circle was set the mark of the Pyrae, his cult. His right shoulder guard has the Prosperite symbol for ‘’Two.’’ He carried a bolter, stamped freshly from the forge ships of the Thousand Sons and carefully oiled, and a sickle-blade sword with built in psy-crystals. Hopefully he would not have to engage in close quarters on Fadas, but Ishkor supposed he would be doing it soon enough.

 

Baltain however around him, flapping its ethereal wings. He had only recently acquired the tutelary shortly after he ascended to the rank of Zelator, something his peers had not yet accomplished. Zelator, the title felt strange still. He had already begun work on the Aras and Pranyama, the lower Enumerations. The ritual into the rank of Zelator was far more subdued than he had expected.

 

There was no chanting chorus, great powers unleashed. Instead a series of tests before a senior Practicus had confirmed his new rank and handed his new robe and granted him access to the higher libraries.

 

‘’You look troubled.’’ Bakari said.

 

‘’I am just lost in thoughts of vengeance against the greenskin.’’ Ishkor answered truthfully.

 

Like Ishkor Bakari had grown into a full Astartes. His head was shaved and the symbol of the Fifteenth Legion was tattooed in black ink across his forehead. His wide intelligent features gave him an air of warm while his hawk-like eyes took in everything. On his shoulder guard he also bore the symbol of his cult within the legion’s heraldry. But his was of the Corvidae, not the Pyrae. However is powers were limited, merely brief flashes of insight in the best of times, compared to the greatest adepts of his cult. He carried a bolter and chainblade.

 

‘’The greenskins deserve to be exterminated.’’ Ishum Nassor said. He lowered his MKII helmet over his pale handsome features and thin blonde hair. His shoulder guard bore a single feather, the mark of the Pavoni.

 

He was arrogant and bellicose, typical Pavoni.

 

‘’I think that was a given.’’ Seron Khosaru said, chuckling briefly. His own, lean, predatory features were soon covered by a MKII helm. His shoulder guard bore the symbol of Athanaean cult.

 

‘’We fight to liberate them, the greenskins fight because they are bored.’’ Came the voice of Epistolary Aktar, Adept Minor of the Thousand Sons and current commander of Nekhet squad.

 

A MKIII helmet floated across the arming bay, over the heads of various serfs to settle on Aktar’s head, covering his foreign Terran features and his broad Ural forehead. It snapped into place with a click. The symbol of the Raptora was as clear as day within his shoulder guard. His tutelary, Talasor followed him, it’s lizard like form floating in the air.

 

‘’Let’s go.’’ he commanded. Oktar, Amar, Thoth and Tair, the previous brothers of Nekhet were already within the Dreadclaw. All were Raptora except for Thoth who belonged to the Corvidae.

 

The whole bay of the Prospero’s Pride, was filled with various servitors, legion serfs and members of the Thousand Sons 2nd Fellowship under the command of Magister Phosis T’kar.

 

The pride itself was currently hung in low orbit over the world of Fadas. When the 102nd expedition, with the 1st and 2nd Fellowships attached, they had found the Fadasians welcome the Imperial Truth, their noble culture having survived the untold horrors of Old Night. Their libraries had immediately been compiled by the Thousand Sons’s legion serfs and scheduled to be sent back to Prospero, A small garrison of Astartes was left behind to collect the rest of the knowledge.

 

Three weeks after they left Fadas, the Corvidae in the fleet received a vision of Fadas’s destruction. Magnus had ordered his forces back to the system. They survived just as the first ork ships began to land. Nekhet, newly filled with fresh battle brothers who had only seen action against pirates for the last three years, was ordered to prepare for battle. Here the Philosophuses and Practicus of the squad would monitor the young Zelators into the lessons of the Enumerations.

 

Ishkor himself put in his helmet and entered the Dreadclaw, he hooked himself up to the restraint thrones, Baltian coiling near him. Bakari entered the restraint-throne next to him as the rest of Nekhet came. Aktar commanded the pod to be sealed as lights began to flash from the ceiling. A short set of data scrolled down the side screen of the central part of the Dreadclaw’s spine portion.

 

‘’Shall we begin the Enumerations?’’ Bakari asked.

 

‘’Of course,’’ Nassor nodded. ‘’It’s not like you need them.’’ he added the last with a bit of a barbed finality. It was no secret that the arrogant Pavoni distained the far weaker Corvidae.

 

‘’I would reply, but I expect you to master your own first.’’ shot back Bakari. Ishkor was about to rise to Bakari’s defense when Aktar intervened.

 

‘’Enough, we prepare for war.’’ he rumbled. Quickly the data-runes flashed down and the pod launched.

 

The entire Dreadclaw pod shook and a steam of data-played on the side-screen next to each restraint throne. The rattling filled the ears of the Nekhet like an avalanche of a Prosperite mountain.

 

For what seemed like almost a minute it continued then there was a loud roaring noise before the pod finally decelerated, runes flashing yellow this time instead of red, before the pod hit the planet.

 

The runes flashed green as the hatches opened. Quickly the restrain thrones were undid and the Thousand Sons exited into the battleground outside.

 

A clear blue sky filled the air as Grannus looked around. Tall, blue-green trees filled the horizon several hundred meters near were the Thousand Sons Dreadclaws had landed on Fadas. The rest of Nekhet spilled out of the Dreadclaw. As the last one exited, the Dreadclaw sealed itself, quickly the squad scrambled out of the heat-wash of its engines when the assault pod lifted back p into the air again.

 

Vox chatter and the mind speak of the Athanaeans filled his senses. He quickly took in the information. Two hundred Astartes of the Thousand Sons Second Fellowship were ordered to move out under Epistolary Vosegus, an Adept Major of the Raptora. They were being ordered to move out, six miles to the western outreaches of Vashinpol, the chief spaceport and city of Fadas Prime. There the heaviest greenskin assault was reported.

 

‘’Does everyone have it?’’ Aktar asked as he began the ground-eating walk that the Astartes were known for. Nekhet voxed their affirmation, except for Khosaru who mentally sent it.

 

The terrain of Fadas was green, filled with tall trees and thick bushes. Small clearings linked paths in and out of the edge of the forest that the 2nd Fellowship had landed in. A small river bordered the largest of roads at the edge of the forest.

 

Nekhet was ordered to take point.

 

Quickly, the nine-man squad moved among the thick green bushed and took the outer path of the woods, near a small, fast, flowing river. Rocks tumbled into the water below them as the Astartes moved. Above, in the skies, the forms of Thousand Sons Stormbirds and Dreadclaws filled the air, along with dozens upon dozens of ork ships, huge, crude metal contraptions that fell with an uncontrollable, maniac freefall.

 

 

Every few seconds there was a loud crash in the distance, signaling more orks had entered into the assault on Vashinpol’s outer defenses, the Astartes quickened, they had to hurry. Dozens upon dozens of crimson forms hurried along the forest edge.

 

‘’Orks,’’ came Khosaru’s thoughts. ‘’Three hundred meters through those forests and closing quite fast.’’ he mentally said. Aktar looked around, voxing confirmation to Vosegus.

 

‘’Eight hundred orks, must have came from a crashed ship in the forest. Raptora-’’ Vosegus’s voice came on the Second’s vox system. ‘’-Bring down the trees, Pyrae set to burn, Corvidae, Athanaeans, help in, Pavoni, this will be hard but bolters only for now.’’

 

Aktar reached out, and Ishkor could practically feel the Great Ocean’s power being manipulated. Along with the many other Raptora that made up the preponderance of the Second’s ranks, they brought down countless tees. Blue-green oaks fell down, right on entire mobs of greenskins, cutting off entire mobs and crushing dozens under their immense bulk. It was all guided by the very thoughts of the greenskins themselves, read by the Athanaeans.

 

‘’Keep in up, we’ve taken a lot out now.’’ Khosaru’s thoughts came.

 

‘’Now Ishkor.’’ Aktar voxed to the young Zelator. Baltain came close to him, feeding his power as he lowered his bolter and extended on arms. A torrent of flame conducted into the reality, a product of the Great Ocean.

 

Al round him, he could feel the other Pyrae assigned to the Second’s ranks open fire with their own powers. Great balls of fire and ash were hurled through the forest in front of them.

 

Trees were ignited quickly by the unnatural fire. Quickly, the forest itself was consumed by a fire inferno, setting dozens of orks afire. Entire warbands were trapped inside the forest, blocked off by the trees or consumed by the flames.

 

Ishkor watched as a single, massive ork, covered in fearsome red flames stumbled out of the edge of the bushes, roaring and waving its cleaver, its features masked in fire.

 

‘’Who wants the honors?’’ asked Khosaru.

 

Bakari dropped the ork with a single headshot.

 

‘’Well that answers the question.’’ the Athanaean chuckled.

 

‘’Let’s go.’’ Aktar said, as similar orders flowed over the vox network. The hundred Astartes of the Second Fellowship’s squads moved off, leaving the orks to burn.

[Gree]

Nekhet was first on the scene.

 

The outer trench works of Vashinpol stretched all round the city, an extensive system of concrete bunkers, support trenches and artillery dugouts along with defense lasers and missile racks.

 

The defense laser and missile racks shot down countless ork drop ships, sending hulks of burning metal to the ground in fiery explosions, condemning their occupants to whatever xenos afterlife they believed in.

 

And then they stopped.

 

They could not take out all the drop ships, which seemed to fall like an endless rain. And from those drop ships came orks, a green tide of monsters who overran the trenches and annihilated the defenders in a storm of crude iron and barbarity.

 

Nekhet, along with Sepht, Daror, Varsen, and Fastel, came to the edge of the twenty-sixth defensive sector.

 

‘’Place is blown to hell.’’ Bakari commented.

 

Ishkor was inclined to agree. A massive hole had been ripped in the eight-meter tall concrete walls and a large chunk of the trench section was missing, as if a massive bomb had it.

 

Or a drop ship, Ishkor thought as he looked at the various pieces of wreckage strewn around the former remnants of the defense sector. Bits of burning metal were dispersed along with the corpses of green-skinned ogres and black uniformed Fadasian Defense Troopers.

 

‘’Lord Aktar, you are not going to like this…’’ Khosaru began.

 

Aktar, standing at the head of Nekhet raised his azure heqa stuff.

 

‘’Orks?’’ he asked. Khosaru raised his bolter and fired it in response, blowing apart a greenskin coming up from the ruin underneath.

 

‘’They took the underground tunnels.’’ he groaned.

 

‘’Nekhet! Defensive formation! Kine shields up!’’ Aktar barked. Quickly the walls of pure thought were readied as the forms of hundreds of orks came charging out of the tunnels below.

 

It was the first time Ishkor had seen an ork alive and up close, not on an autopsy table when training in the ‘’Hidden Ones’’ or studying texts or old picts taken from combat recordings. His combat experience as part of the scout auxiliary up to this point had been human rebels and Hurd raiders. This was the first time he would take on the ork scourge and Baltian burned with anticipation.

 

They were hulking, muscular and bulky, almost as big as Ishkor himself. Their eyes were flat and brutal, animated with only a brute desire for destruction. They wore bits of rags, iron and animals hides. They carried a motley collection of crude heavy caliber solid slug weapons and cleavers.

 

They roared.

 

‘’WAAAAGGGHHH!’’ a deep alien roar came from over five hundred throats. They began to fire their pistols and rifles at the Thousand Sons, but the kine shields went up. Between the horrendous accuracy of the orks, the power armor of the Sons and the kine shields, not a single Thousand Son fell.

 

It could not be said the same for the orks.

 

Bolters blazed at Aktar’s sharp-tongued command, as over fifty Astartes poured fire into the orks ranks, cutting down dozens and dozens of greenskined beasts with each emptied clip.

 

‘’Coat it Ishkor!’’ Aktar commanded, similar calls were made by the other Librarian-Sergeants of the squads. Ishkor understood the call and extended himself deeply to the Great Ocean, drawing upon the aether.

 

It was an old Thousand Sons trick, the Raptora would form the kine shields in the air and the Pyrae would coat it in warpfire, making the defenses even more dangerous for a charging foe, thus protecting the battle brothers from close quarters for a limited time. Any rational being would have stopped their assault. However the orks continued, a mountain of green muscle and sinew that came, their feet casting up clouds of dirt and grass.

 

The orks hit the shields.

 

The shields held.

 

Ishkor could practically feel the strain that Aktar and the other Raptors were experiencing. Holding back a few hundred straining greenskins was no easy task, even with the warpfire burning away at the front ranks of the greenskins, the pure press of bodies was almost too much. Bakari fired his bolter at full auto, not even needing to aim, a dozen orks were blown apart by his close range fire. Ishkor saw two or three bolts striking the same corpse at such close range.

 

Bakari cursed.

 

‘’Prepare for close quarters!’’ Aktar ordered. Less than half the orks were alive at this point. Ishkor followed his advice and drew his sickle-blade form the mag-link at his waist and readied himself.

 

The kine shields collapsed and the orks came in charging over the bodies of their dead fellows.

 

Nassor laughed, sending arcs of lightning to fry the nearest orks as the t shields dropped. Greenskins died as they stumbled out of the fiery blaze the impetus of their charge broken.

 

Typical Pavoni.

 

Ishkor’s sickle blade flashed as the first ork came stumbling over the flaming corpses of his comrades. The Thousand Son beheaded him with a two-handed stroke as the greenskin suddenly lurched forward. He was not so lucky with the next two. Hulking brutes, with red fire slicking at their flesh and armor, they assaulted him with much ferocity, if little skill. The sickle-blade countered on stroke and sent Ishkor stumbling.

 

Quickly, the young Zelator changed his tactics. He parried the blow instead of blocking the blow next time, severing the hand of a one-eyed ork. The beast roared as a hot torrent of fire engulfed it from Ishkor’s blade. An axe-like cleaver rang off his shoulder guard, carving a deep furrow in the ceramite. Pain pulsed through his shoulder from the force of the blow and Ishkor’s blade flashed, splitting the ork from crown to jaw.

 

Another chainaxe sliced forward, flames trialing behind. The head of the rough steel blades tore through the Scarab decoration on Ishkor’s MKIII chestplate. Ishkor felt rage at the desecration of Magnus’s symbol. He lashed out with new strength, the sickle-blade igniting. The smell of burnt meat filled the air as he severed the ork’s wrists when it raised the chainaxe to attempt a crude parry. The blade continued on to bisect the surprised ork’s skull.

 

Something roared, and a hulking greenskin chieftain wearing a suit of crude ceramite and steel plated bolted to his enormous frame shouldered its way through. One of its arms had a clacking power claw strapped to it. Two of Daror fell before the beast, its energized claws sipping through power armor with ease and crushing the skulls of two Astartes. Another of Daror lost an arm before codicer Breeta of Daror fried the primitive nervous system of the ork.

 

An ork wearing a horned helmet and carrying a long handled chainaxe barreled into Ishkor, its muscular shoulders knocking the Thousand Son back. Ishkor hit the ground with a thud.

 

With a deep alien howl the ork raised it’s chainaxe to bring the head down.

 

It pitched backwards, blood flying in the air were Bakari had shot it in the torso twice at point blank range. The Corvidae dropped his bolter and drew his gladius before slamming it into the skull of a nearby ork. Ishkor got up to his feet as Bakari withdrew the gladius in a welter of blood. The Zelator sent a brief burst of flame arcing over the heads of the orks into the charging rear ranks, Baltain urging him on.

 

An enormous ork wearing what looked like a crude suit of power armor charged in, energized claws flexing with murderous intent. Oktar stepped up, kind shields extended, the beast threw its bulk forward. For a few seconds the kine shields held. Then they broke and the claw crushed Oktar’s skull. With blood running down the panels of his war plate Oktar’s body slumped to the ground.

 

Ishkor felt shock, one of Nekhet was dead.

 

Aktar came, blue and gold heqa staff shrouded with warp power. The ork roared at him and rushed the Epistolary, but a kine push from Aktar send him stumbling back. The Epistolary parried an overhead sweep of the power claws before he crushed the ork chieftain’s skull with the warp-charged heqa staff. Aktar then extended his powers and Ishkor felt the Great Ocean churn. Six orks flew up high in the air, ripped apart and clubbed to a bloody pulp on the ground by the powers of the Raptora.

 

Tair and Amar followed their Epistolary’s lead and extended their powers, throwing orks back with telekinetic pushed. Mentally, they crushed ork skulls with clubs of pure thought and ripped off limbs.

 

‘’There, I see an opening.’’ Khosaru whispered into the young Zelator’s mind. Ishkor extended his own powers, channeling them out. A gout of red fire burst through the greenskins ranks, roasting over two dozen of the green aliens.

 

The ork tide was halted by the Thousand Sons’ stalwart defense. Then it slackened, and ran out of steam, like a marathon runner winding down. Then the Astartes began to push back. Lightning and fire from the Pavoni and the Pyrae of the Second slew greenskin after greenskin while the Raptora pushed back more greenskins. The Corvidae and the Athanaeans poured bolter fire at point blank range.

 

Some of the greenskins tried to man abandoned heavy caliber autocannons and turn them on the melee, regardless of the fact that their own comrades were still fighting in the way of the wall guns.

 

Nassor and Ishkor immolated them.

 

The greenskin ranks thinned slowly under the relentless barrage of warp powers and bolt shells, until there were only a few dozen stragglers trying to flee over the corpses of their fallen comrades.

 

The Thousand Sons cut them all down.

[Walter Payton]

Fantastic

[Gree]

‘’There they are Fadasian Defense Troopers, scared as hell, which is understandable.’’ Khosaru’s voice echoed through the minds of Nekhet as they traveled through the Fadasian night.

 

It had barely been an hour since darkness had fallen, and the Nekhet, along with the Daror, Varsen, and Fastel had engaged mob after mob of orks along the out reaches of the Fadasian Defense lines while the 1st Fellowship struck at the heart of the ork invasion. This was the first band of Fadasian troopers they had managed to encounter after seeing hundreds of corpses strewn about the destroyed and wrecked defenses along with the bodies of the orks.

 

‘’Let’s come in then,’’ Aktar said. ‘’Ishkor, Bakari, take point.’’ he ordered.

 

The darkness was no great obstacle for the Astartes, the low-light vision of their helmets and their enhanced vision marking out the trenches and the forms of the orks with ease among the darkness.

 

Ishkor lowered his bolter, extending one hand to send out a gout of red flame that lit up the night, roasting several orks in front of him. Baltain followed, feeding him power when ended. Bakari opened fire with his bolter blowing apart four orks with one accurate burst. The Corvidae’s marksmanship was always better than Ishkor’s, whose bolter burst only took out three.

 

There were a couple hundred of greenskins, or at least by Ishkor’s estimation in the dark. The forms of the Fadasians were almost swamped by the greater number of orks running ransack over the locals.

 

Nassor let lightning fly from his hands, distaining the use of his bolter. Aktar, Amar and Tair picked up orks and crushed them with kine clubs while the other squads moved in, their own powers added to the affect. Dozens of orks were burned to death by the Pyrae, or crushed by the Raptora. Volleys of bolter fire cut down the orks as they charged towards the Astartes, howling for blood and death.

 

Thoth was knocked to his knees by a couple of heavy caliber rounds that took him in the knee, Bakari took a round to the helmet and was forced to discard it. One of Daror fell to the massed ork fire.

 

But the Thousand Sons were too much.

 

‘’MAGNUS!’’

 

Someone in Fastel started the cry, Ishkor did not know who, but it quickly caught on with the Thousand Sons. Ishkor himself found himself chanting his primarch’s name as they cut down the orks.

 

‘’Magnus! Magnus! Magnus!’’

 

Within less than a minute it was over.

 

The Thousand Sons moved among the orks, kicking the corpses. If any of then groaned or twitched they were shot with several bolt rounds to make sure. Greenskins were tough to permanently put down. Aktar strode ahead to the Fadasians, who were coming out of their blasted bunkers, faces smeared with dirt and blood, eyes wide open in shock and fear. Ishkor was shocked he had been mortal like this once.

 

‘’So weak, like children.’’ Nassor commented scornfully.

 

‘’And like children,. They must be protected.’’ countered Bakari.

 

One of them, in a captain’s stripes stumbled forward.

 

‘’Captain, what is your situation?’’ Aktar asked.

 

The Fadasian, who had most likely never seen or even heard of the Astartes until a few short months ago, was in awe. He began to stutter at the giant figure who towered over him even more with his ornate crested helm.

 

‘’We got hit hard sir.’’ the Captain’s aide came up. Aktar looked him over.

 

‘’Your Captain seems to be in shock.’’ he commented as the aide mentioned some of the troopers to take the Captain away quickly.

 

‘’We lost communications recently, we don’t know much about the situation.’’ the young aide explained to Aktar.

 

‘’We are pushing the orks back, or at least the 1st Fellowship is. The Second is cleaning up the other defenses of the greenskin scum, we have made quite a killing out here.’’ Aktar commented.

 

The aide was about to reply when Aktar held up a hand.

 

‘’Hold on, I have a transmission,’’ the Epistolary opened up his vox-channel. ‘’This is Nehket Leader, what are your orders my lord?’’ he asked.

 

‘’Sepht has gone missing,’’ the voice of Phosis T’kar came over the vox channel, half-masked by interference static. Sepht had been sent out to take point as night fell, while the other four squads went and cleaned up in the local defense sector. In all fifty marines was a small portion of T’kar’s 2nd Fellowship, but through clever tactics and use of the Great Ocean’s gifts, they had triumphed.

 

‘’What was the last news?’’ Aktar asked.

 

‘’They were sent to destroy some artillery that the orks had managed to land. They reported heavy resistance of the ork elite, then the vox channel went dead.’’ T’kar explained.

 

‘’Your orders then my lord?’’

 

‘’Recovery, Nekhet, along with Fastal and Daror are to find and recover what’s left of Sepht squad. Varsen will continue clean up and coordinate with the local Defense Troopers.’’ T’kar continued.

 

Then Aktar asked the dreaded question. ‘’And if Sepht is gone lord?’’

 

‘’Avenge them, T’kar out.’’

 

Aktar shut off the vox link and turned to Nekhet, which formed up. Khosaru was the first to speak.

 

‘’Lord?’’ he asked.

 

‘’We go find Sepht.’’ Aktar said firmly.

 

‘’You don’t’ think they are still alive do you?’’ Tair said.

 

‘’I think nothing, I only hope.’’ Aktar replied.

 

 

‘’Greenskins, up ahead.’’ Khosaru sent his thoughts into the rest of Nekhet.

 

‘’Are you sure?’’ asked Aktar.

 

‘’Of course, their thoughts are as crude as…..well an ork.’’ Khosaru commented.

 

The Thousand Sons had traveled straight on for twenty minutes, encountering various bands of scurrying gretchin, and the occasional Fadasian straggler, this was the first time they had encountered a major ork band since leaving the Fadasian troopers. A loud roaring filled the air in the distance six hundred meters away. It was the ork artillery, the haphazard booming sound filling the audio receptors of the Astartes as the orks blasted away at distant targets.

 

The Astartes could not see the guns, hidden in the distance to the high, eight-meter tall trench walls of the Vashinpol defense line. However they still had other means of reconnaissance. Aktar dispatched Talasor to scout, his lizard-like Tutelary moving up ahead, unimpeded by physical obstacles. The Epistolary watched meter by meter as the trenches were exposed to the Tutelary’s eyes.

 

Eventually, after several minutes, the forms of the greenskins were revealed. Dozens upon dozens of them, wearing crude plates or iron and ceramite, and carrying long-hafted chainaxes and heavy caliber guns. Several of the greenskins were larger than others, and carried strange flamer-like weapons and clacking power claws. But that was not the worst of what Aktar saw through Talasor’s eyes.

 

The forms of Sepht were broken and split apart, slain by the greenskins. Bits of ruby power armor was torn off and defiled by the crude alien killers. He felt anger at the hooting laugher of the orks. He felt a great pall of sadness when he saw the form of Xanatos Rall, his former battle brother and one of the few remaining Terrans left in the legion. Rall was dead, beheaded by a chainaxe, his ornate relic blade lying in the mud.

 

To the credit of Sepht, heaps of dead orks filled the trenches, casually thrown aside by their own comrades with complete disregard. Let the xenos rot, Aktar thought with blistering contempt. Then something else filled the Tutelary’s vision, a great being, filled with crackling green power and lightning. It was a hunched ork, wrapped in animal skins and face slathered by blue warpaint.

 

It looked at Talasor and roared, sending a shockwave at the tutelary. Talasor fled at top speed right back to the waiting presence of Aktar who filled the tutelary with reassurance.

 

He looked at Khosaru.

 

‘’Did you-‘’ he asked.

 

‘’Yes,’’ confirmed the Athanaean. ‘’He just revealed himself to me, he is crude, but stealthy.’’

 

‘’What are you talking about?’’ asked Nassor.

 

Aktar snarled with contempt. ‘’Sepht is slain, down to the last brother, all by the greenskins. They are led by a ork psyker, a perversion of the Primordial Creator’s vision, he is leading the greenskins.’’ he said with hatred.

 

Ishkor knew the greenskin had psykers, but they were wild, undisciplined things who pulled their power from the greenskin masses rather than directly from the Great Ocean like the Thousand Sons.

 

‘’Xanatos Rall was among them, a noble man, now slain, we must avenge him and alert the apothecaries to our position, we cannot lose the geneseed of our brothers.’’ Aktar explained.

 

‘’Then we must have vengeance.’’ Bakari declared.

 

‘’Yes, oh yes we will.’’ Nassor was in rare agreement for once.

 

Ishkor nodded, fires playing at his fingertips. Baltain hovered near him, filled with his anger. He could feel the Great Ocean upon him. He called upon the enumerations to prepare himself.

 

‘’May I take point?’’

[Lynnean]

fantastic......

i want more!

[Gree]

**

 

Aktar allowed Ishkor to take point.

 

He focused fires at the first greenskins who came into range around the bend of the trench. The red flames traveled along the trench, igniting orks with hellfire. Alien roars filled the air as they charged back only to be hurled by the kine shields of the Raptora. In the narrow trenches, the fires of the Ishkor were all the more deadly. He kept focused on the Enumerations, hurling bursts of fire down the trenches. Next to him Ishum Nassor sent bolts of lighting from his fingertips and Bakari fired his bolter.

 

All along the Thousand Sons advanced, killing.

 

Eventually, the trenches split in two. Nekhet and Daror took one branch and Fastal took the others. Ishkor’s flames were soon joined by bolts of pure force wielded by Aktar himself while Amar and Tair maintained the kine shields. The greenskins in front of Ishkor howled, and hammered his blade at the kind shield in front of Ishkor. Instead it rebounded and Ishkor blasted him at point blank range, the warp fire melting off the greenskins muscles, down to the bone.

 

Ishkor crushed it’s burning carcass beneath his feet as he carried on.

 

Aktar passed him as the head of the Nekhet assault, with Codicer Breeta’s lighting flowing out. The lip of the trench widened to reveal the artily area. The whole place was sixty meters in diameter and filled with howling greenskins, almost a hundred of them. Huge, rusted pieces of greenskins artillery, manned by small, pasty-fleshed grots, were pointed towards the sky. Franticly they tried to move the great guns about to blast at the Space Marines

 

They never go the chance. The Raptora of the squads reached out and lifted the guns into the air, before smashing them to pieces with clubs of pure though and casting them on the greenskins, crushing dozens beneath the guns. With that most of the enemy where gone. But some still remained. Ishkor drew his blade, and sent a torrent of flame, roasting four greenskins before he sidestepped a reckless charge by a warrior wearing a jaw-mask.

 

The sickle-blade flashed, taking off the top of the ork’s head, killing it. The smell of brunt meat filled the air as Ishkor’s fire roasted to more charging greenskins to blackened corpses. Nearby Bakari fired his bolter at point blank range, shredding a greenskin warrior, and blowing the limb off another. Ishum Nassor drew his own blade, running it over with electricity, before slicing through the orks.

 

A choppa rang on Bakari’s shoulder guard, the huge clear partially tearing it off. Nassor beheaded the ork who did it. Bakari shot an ork aiming a crude rocket launcher at Nassor’s lightning shrouded form. The xenos tipped back, dead, its fingers working on the launcher to sent the crude rocket firing over the lip of the trench.

 

Aktar advanced, pushing a dozen greenskins into the air, Thoth and Khosaru advancing next to him, firing their bolters point blank into the melee. Several of the hulking ork nobles charged into them and Daror. Meanwhile the ork weirdboy was slowly turning around, like some sort of lost dog. Arcs of green lightning played across its hunched frame and it pointed a finger at Thoth and waved it.

 

A whip of pure energy flashed into existence, cutting the Thousand Son from shoulder to hip. The upper half slid to the floor as Ishkor stared in shock at the greenskin’s casual slaying of a member of Nekhet.

 

Aktar stepped forward, raising a hand as the weirdboy charged. Khosaru, Bakari and the members of Daror fired bolters at the ork psyker, but all the shells were stopped a foot away from the ork psyker, by some green energy field. It roared, sending green lighting out at Aktar, who stood his ground and absorbed it with his bleu and gold staff. The Epistolary send out a telekinetic push at the ork psyker, who dug it’s staff in the ground and send out a telekinetic burst of it’s own.

 

For a moment, the two powers were pushed against one another, and then Aktar was hurled back into the wall. Ishkor gave a cry of hate, feeling concern for his commander as he sent a burst of fire at the weirdboy, Baltain supporting him. The flames scorched the arm and side of the distracted ork, peeling off skin. The ork gave a howl of rage and waved a hand, sending a bolt of warp lighting at the young Zelator, who barely raised his psy-blade in time.

 

The psy-blade took the force in time, as the green energy flashed among the psy-crystals and overloaded the weapon. The blade shattered in a small explosion, hurling the young Zelator back.

 

Ishkor hit the ground hard next to a corpse. He shakily opened his eyes. His first image was that of the scarlet phoenix, the symbol of the Pyrae, his own cult. He got himself up as quickly as he could servos in his armor protesting. The corpse was of an Epistolary, one hacked apart by multiple choppa blades and surrounded by smoldering ork corpses. It must be Xanatos Rall, he realized with a shock.

 

He looked next to the defiled body, spotting a force sword, intricately contrasted in the style of the Terran Terrawat clan. He brushed the dirt away from the ornate broadsword, nothing the fine psy-crystal detailing and mental circuits. He picked it up, nothing as flame came along the wondrous blade. It felt natural, reassuring. Ishkor noticed the symbol of the Pyrae on its hilt, wondrously detailed with skill.

 

Bakari fell back to him, bolter still spitting rounds at the greenskin nobles coming towards the rest of Nekhet in the wake of their psyker-leader’s assault. Nassor himself was assaulted by two ork nobles. The Thousand Son fried the nervous system of one ork noble, before blocking the strike of the other with his lightning wreathed blade, snarling, Nassor fought with the ork noble to the death.

 

‘’That ork psyker is far more powerful than I realized.’’ Bakari growled. An ork noble suddenly lanced out of the confusion of battle and locked blades with Bakari, forcing the Corvidae back.

 

Ishkor moved into action, flames coating his blade as he lashed out, a torrent of flame cutting off the arm of the surprised ork noble. Bakari took advantage of the ork’s confusion to blow its head off.

 

Ishkor stared at the blade in awe as he felt it’s power. He heard the name of the blade in his mind.

 

Inferni

 

Nearby the ork psyker-chieftain lashed out, turning two of Daror squad to blackened husks. Breeta of Daror tried to stab the ork weirdboy, but was thrown back, armor blasted as a result for his efforts. Aktar got up, Talasor fueling his strength, his blue staff rippled with crimson fire and he lashed out a wave of telekinetic force at the ork weirdboy, pushing him back with a wave of power.

 

Snarling, with spittle flying from its lips, the ork psyker rushed forwards, lighting and crimson fire clashing for a second time, a thunderclap sounded as the staffs locked together.

 

Ishkor breathed deeply, indicating another ork who got too close with a wave of his blade. He was chanting the Enumerations to properly regulate the power that Baltain was feeding to him from the Great Ocean.

 

He dove forward, he had to help Aktar.

 

There.

 

He saw it, the opening in the weirdboy’s defenses as it clashed in a war of power with Aktar, as the ork psyker was winded from the clash, Ishkor dove forward, Inferni blazing with fire.

 

The ork psyker turned just in time for the blade to sink through its skull and out the back of it’s head.

 

Ishkor twisted the blade, just as the body of the greenskin psyker began to quite with a fearsome green light. Aktar grabbed him and the blade before leaping back. An explosion sounded behind them and Ishkor was hurled into unconsciousness.

 

 

 

**

Ishkor later learned that the weirdboy’s psychic presence was driving the orks of the southern defense into a frenzy. The death of the weirdboy promptly threw them into confusion, allowing the 2nd Fellowship to annihilate them.

 

Ishkor awoke a few hours later to be told that the battle was almost over. On the city of Vashinpol itself Magnus the Red descended from a Stormbird to annihilate the ork warlord and his bodyguards with a flick of his wrist. After that, the demoralized and disorganized greenskin horde was destroyed. Army teams spent days afterward beheading and burning all the greenskin corpses in the aftermath. The residents of Vashinpol would refer to that action as the ‘’Great Burning’’ decades later.

 

A week after the victory at Vashinpol the 1st and 2nd Fellowships attended a parade in Vashinpol itself, alongside thirty thousand Prosperite Spireguard and Fifty Thousand Fadasian defense forces. Ranks after rank of the two thousand Astartes passed through the streets first, with each squad bearing their insignia. Bakari was given the honor of carrying the hawk standard of Nekhet while Aktar himself headed the marching rank.

 

Women threw garlands of flowers and the crowds cheered at their liberators as the Thousand Sons came past landing square, the hall of Tetarchs and past the Arc de Delaz were Magnus watched his sons pass by with the High Tetrarch of Fadas.

 

Ishkor had never felt so proud in his life. His only regretted that Thoth and Oktar were not here to enjoy it.

 

 

**

 

It was after the battle when he had been approached by his lord. Ishkor had been in his study cell, cleansing his weapons, dressed in a crimson study robe when Phosis T’kar came through the door.

 

‘’My lord.’’

 

Ishkor immediately stopped the disassembling of his bolter and bowed to T’kar.

 

T’kar waved him up.

 

‘’It’s fine, you have done nothing wrong.’’ the Captain of the Second, and the only other Adept Exemplar in the Legion, said. His helmet was off, revealing his strong, bellicose features. The young Zelator could see Utipa, T’kar’s tutelary, hover behind his shoulder.

 

‘’I am afraid I don’t’ understand this honor.’’ confessed Ishkor. Baltain came down, flapping with curiosity. Phosis T’kar mentioned forth one of the Legion serfs behind him, who carried a wrapped bundle.

 

‘’Show him.’’ T’kar commanded.

 

The serf unwrapped the cloth covered the long object, revealing the silver form of Inferni. Ishkor took in the masterfully worked blade, the silver hilt with the phoenix, the wire-wrapped hilt and the ruby pommel. He had returned the blade dutifully to the Legion armory after the battle, as was custom with the weapons of the fallen Thousand Sons, he had no idea who it was being presented to him.

 

‘’My lord….why?’’ he asked.

 

‘’This blade has synchronized well with you. Asten Aktar has recommended that you wield it, since Xanatos Rall’s death. I’ve spoken to your Magister about it, he agrees with Aktar about your suitability.’’ Phosis T’kar said.

 

Ishkor sucked in his breath. ‘’I am honored my lord.’’

 

‘’As you should be,’’ Phosis T’kar said. ‘’Swear on the name of Magnus that you will treasure the blade of Xanatos Rall.’’

 

‘’Yes, my lord, I swear by the name of Magnus!’’

 

 

 

And I did. That blade, Inferni, serves me even now. I have lost count of how many lives of the False Emperor’s servants I have slain in revenge for the ghosts of Prospero. I have used this blade to slay Wolf Lord Jorik Sunheart and behead Chapter Master Aurelian of the Iron Reapers. I have slain Eldar Farseers and banished daemons with this blade.

 

After Fadas I fought on many more worlds against those who opposed the Emperor’s will and against the orks many, many times. Nekhet lost and gained members over the years, but us, the rising neophytes of the chapter, always seemed to stay alive

 

However, I will never forget the glory on Tathe’s World. The battle of mind and heat. The fight alongside the Salamanders against the Eldar……….

[Gree]

‘’Why do Eldar have helmets like this? It’s not like they can fill it all up?’’ Khosaru said, using his true voice, instead of his telepathy. He carried a dusty Eldar helm in one hand, holding it up like some Prosperite playwright.

 

Nekhet was in the middle of Tathe’s Landing, the chief, and only city on Tathe’s World, one of the newly founded colonies in the galactic South and formerly Eighty-Four-Five. The sun beat down hotly on the dusty streets of the half-built city.

 

Ten years before, the Salamanders 84th Expedition had colonized the planet. Initially, it seems to be abandoned. Groups of returned Imperial Army veteran and Terran colonists were settled.

 

Until about to years ago everything was fine.

 

Then the Eldar arrived. They ordered the colonists to leave, claiming this palace was theirs giving them a single day to do so. The Governor of the planet tried to negotiate, but the eldar ignored their requests and attacked anyways.

 

Eventually, the Imperium could not stand such an insult, and Primarch Vulkan of the Salamanders led his legion against the Eldar host. Magnus the Red himself came, as well as Ahriman, the chief Librarian, and the 1st and 2nd Fellowships in support to Tathe’s World. The Second had landed alongside Ahriman’s First Fellowship while Magnus directed the overall operations of both legions. Vulkan himself was content to direct the front line fighting.

 

Tathe’s Landing, when the Thousand Sons had arrived, had been a ghost town, the Eldar had slaughtered every last one of the colonists for trespassing on their maiden world. Nekhet had only been too happy to slaughter the first xenos they found. Ishkor looked around, Baltain hovering over his shoulder. The homes on this street were the typical prefabricated sort that was so commonly used in the Great Crusade’s colonization fleets.

 

He shook his head, these people did not deserve this at the hands of the Eldar. While he had heard tales of the psychic might and ancient skills of the Eldar race, and handled some of the older Eldar artifacts found on abandoned worlds, he could not forgive this crime. The Nekhet, along with Daror and the reformed Sephet had orders to proceed in this square and range ahead of the main Fellowship, it was a fairly simply search and destroy objective.

 

The target of course was Eldar.

 

‘’They seem so much like us….except for the ears and the proportions….too thin’ Ishkor looked around at Nassor who hunched over the corpse of an Eldar warrior in green and white armor. His Tutelary, Daatal, was acquired a few years back. The serpentine form of the warp being coiled around Nassor’s arm.

 

‘’What’s wrong? Jealous?’’ Khosaru mentally jabbed playfully at Nassor who scowled, Daatal flaring in irritation, it’s ethereal hood spreading out like a Prosperite cobra-killer. Khosaru knew full well of the Pavoni’s vanity.

 

‘’As if the could hope.’’ Nassor shot back. Khosaru chuckled. His own Tutelary, Utilaa, an orb filled with glowing eyes, danced around him, reflecting his master’s mood of contentment.

 

‘’And yet they claim to be so superior.’’ Bakari noted, as he stood up, helmeted head scanning the horizon. He had no Tutelary, of them all he still retrained the rank of Zelator and was unlikely to advance.

 

Practicus, that was Ishkor’s rank now. His ranks and priority had reflected the higher-ascension from a young inexperienced Zealator to a wiser Practicus, he had studied the Qahbalah, and the middle Enumerations.

 

A part of him felt sympathy for Bakari, he had proved himself to be a brilliant warrior countless times. But his own lack of psychic gifts would doom him to eternal mediocrity. Ishkor’s own pity warred with his sense of relief at not being like Bakari.

 

Don’t think that, Ishkor reminded himself. The power of the flames does not change who you are.

 

But it does….. a voice seemed to whisper at him.

 

‘’Contact, these Eldar bastards are tricky, definitely tricky, but I have them.’’ said Khosaru joyfully. He picked up his bolter, Utilla advancing ahead, floating into the air. Aktar sent Talasor ahead as well.

 

Nehket immediately feel into places of nearby cover. Aktar, Amar and Tair brought out nearby groundcars and market stalls to form a crude, but effective system of cover. Power armor was tough, but the eldar weapons were deadly as anything Ishkor had every seen and it paid to be cautious.

 

Rounding at the end of the plaza, ninety meters away, the forms of blue-armored warriors appeared. Their once clean armor was marred by the dusty streets of Tathe’s Landing and blood of their various kills. They moved with a certain elegance and inhuman grace that made Ishkor, for all his Astartes enhancements and modifications, feel slow and bulky. They quickly and efficiently moved up into places to pour fire on the Thousand Sons.

 

Bolters from Talak, the new Pavoni assigned to the squad as a replacement, Nassor, Khosaru, himself and Bakari, all answered the Eldar shuriken fire. One of the enemy warriors pitched back, slain.

 

Another kill shot tore through the skull of an Eldar warrior, blasting apart the white comb-headed helm into bits of red xenos metal. Another Eldar warrior lost a leg, falling to the ground writhing in pain, but no scream emerged.

 

But all was not easy on the part of the Thousand Sons.

 

Shuriken whizzed across the plaza, kicking up a small storm of dust as Nassor cursed in pain. One had gotten into a joint in his MKIII armor, causing him to bleed briefly before his Astartes physiology sealed it up.

 

Bakari stumbled, shuriken cutting fine furrows on his helmet and torso plates. The Scarab on his chest practically disintegrated in the sheer amount of miniature monomol discs that hit it at high speeds. Tair raised a kine shield around Bakari, shielding him from any further assaults. Ishkor voxed a thanks over the squad communication system to the Raptora. Tair’s Tutelary, Torsuka, spread it’s wings as it fed him power.

 

Aktar’s own Tutelary, Talasor, coiled about, feeling him power as well. A weather vane picked itself off a broken roof and drove forward and incredible speeds. One of the Eldar warriors below, leapt back, dodging the killer instrument with alien grace, however another warrior was not so lucky. The Eldar warrior screamed this time, the weather vane, propelled by the telekinesis of the Raptora, impaled the blue-plated warrior though a gap in it’s torso armor an emerged out of his back, killing him.

 

Aktar cursed and began to run through the Enumerations. The Eldar were a highly psychic race, affecting them would not exactly be as easy as killing the orks with clubs of pure though.

 

But he managed. Aktar lifted an Eldar warrior up into the air. The xenos kicked it s limbs, struggling as it did so. The Epistolary stretched out one hand and then closed it quickly.

 

The Eldar warrior exploded, as if crushed by an invisible hand.

 

‘’Up ahead, flank them, Ishkor, Nassor, Amar, Talak, move out and flank them, we will cover you.’’ Aktar ordered, his breath labored with effort of exerting his powers. Talasor glowed behind him, giving every last drop of energy.

 

Ishkor got up, firing off a last burst from his bolter as he did so. The blue-armored eldar warriors had taken heavy casualties so far, and appeared to be falling back before the Thousand Sons.

 

He sent Baltain forward, and channeled his powers through the fiery hawk-like Tutelary. A stream of flame ignited in the air, roasting two Eldar Warriors going through an alleyway nearby.

 

Their screams were music to Ishkor’s ears. It was vengeance for the slaughtered citizens of Tathe’s Landing.

 

A loud curse interrupted his thoughts. It was from Khosaru.

 

‘’Eldar assault specialists! Female! Coming from the rooftops to your right Ishkor! They must have shielded their thoughts somehow, but I’ve got them!’’ nearby Utilla pulsed with urgency.

 

Nassor snarled an oath and turned around. Bakari fired his bolter as green and bone armored shapes appeared on the rooftops and alleyway of a chic eatery next to the members of Nehket.

 

Ishkor had been briefed of the various Eldar warrior cults on the Scion of Prospero when they had came en-route to the Tathe Warzone. These were a Banshee cult, of an all-female cast of close combat specialists who wielded power-wreathed energy blades and sonic masks. They were superior to Astartes in close combat, fighting them blade to blade would be unwise. Fortunately the Thousand Sons were prepared to avoid that, something certain other Astartes legions refused to do.

 

Ishkor accessed his powers Baltain fed him energy gleefully. The air in front of him ignited and he wove a shield of red flames around him quickly, forming spikes of fire from them. The Eldar banshees, tall, slender feminine figures in form-fitting white and green armor, halted, their terrible, ear-shattering screams just beginning. They recognized the fire as not being natural, to touch it would be to die.

 

Others leapt at Nassor, who wreathed a shield of lightning around him, shocking two of the Banshee-warriors who came close, momentarily paralyzing their nervous systems before they could scream. Nassor cut them both down. One of the warriors got to scream however, sending Amar stumbling in shock. She beheaded the warrior of Nekhet with a single blow of his power blade. His helmeted head in the floor with a thud.

 

Another warrior of Nehket was dead.

 

‘’Amar!’’ Ishkor hear himself shout. He whirled around.

 

But Talak already attacked.

 

The Banshee warrior fell to the floor, blood boiling as the Pavoni tore apart her nervous system. Talak shouted the name of his fallen comrade in triumph, and another Banshee came up behind him. Talak whirled around, drawing his blade as he did so. But it was too late, an ear-splitting sonic burst sunned him, and the Banshee stabbed him through the chest, right next to the Scarab decoration.

 

Ishkor cursed as he redirected the flames to strike at the Banshee-warrior. One of them dove out of the way, but this fire flowed into another Banshee warrior, quickly the Eldar warrior was covered in flame, the body hit the ground, writhing as it was reduced to a blackened skeleton. The other Banshee rushed him at incredible speeds. But it suddenly froze and was hurled back by some incredible force. Ishkor took the opportunity to send a fireball at the Banshee, killing it.

 

Red flames licked out from the Eldar warrior’s corpse as Ishkor whirled around, summoning his powers again. The form of Tair came up to him, blood drying in his armor as he opened fire with his bolter at another Banshee. The Eldar warrior junked out of the way before Tair could get a good lock on him. But Ishkor sent a gout of flames to wrap around and brunt the Banshee warrior, who wrthied in pain before being reduced to a blackened corpse.

 

The last two Eldar warrior raced towards Bakari. The Corvidae blew on back with a lucky burst, shooting off a feminine leg. Screaming, the warrior dropped to the ground, sending sonic screams into all directions. The other flashed its blades and Bakari barely avoided being beheaded, as the blade cut though his upper chest all the way to his shoulder guard, across his Legion symbol. The Eldar warrior reversed her sword grip and prepared to strike again.

 

Instead she was lifted up into the air, struggling, as if wrapped in some invisible hand.

 

Aktar closed his own hand, she exploded, bits of gore-stained armor flying across the rooftops. The Epistolary lowered his hand and brought his heqa staff on the remaining Banshee-warrior on the ground, crushing her skull.

 

‘’More Eldar Banshees, coming from the west, ETA about four- never mind, Daror took care of them.’’ Khosaru’s voice broke into the thoughts of Nekhet as they regrouped together.

 

Aktar looked over at Talak. ‘Are you fine brother?’’ he asked.

 

The Pavoni nodded, withdrawing his hand from the wound. ‘’It missed my primary heart by inches, my secondary heart is compensating, I am healing the wound as best I can’’ he reported. Aktar nodded.

 

‘’Bakari?’’ he asked. The Corvidae straightened himself.

 

‘’The bleeding has ceased..’’ He said. Aktar nodded and knelt beside the flame form of Amar. He brushed the Scarab symbol on his chestplate, taking out the crystal hewn form the Relfecting caves and putting it in a storage pocket in his waist armor.

 

‘’Khosaru.’’ he indicated.

 

‘’Already sent my lord,’’ the marine replied in his normal voice. ‘’They are sending an apothecary to retrieve Amar’s geneseed and tend to our wounds.’’ he reported, Utilaa reflecting his distress.

 

Aktar sighed. ‘’Good then.’’ he turned around, examining an Eldar corpse. He pried a blue gem from the chestplate of one of the fallen Banshees. He examined the stone, holding it up.

 

‘’We will have our vengeance.’’

 

**

 

The Apothecary came.

 

When he arrived Daror and the reformed Sepht had already secured the area, beating off an assault from a group of Eldar jetbikes that patrolled the area. A half-dozen wrecks littered the streets when the apothecary arrived.

 

The Apothecary’s name was Ilmatar Serpal, a Pavoni, like many of the Thousand Sons Apothecarion. That cult’s use of biomancy made them excellent healers and useful to the gene-seed implantation.

 

Ishkor watched as Amar’s body had its prognoids extracted. The two slug-like organs being taken into cyro-containers fitted to the Apothecary’s armor. After that had been completed he looked over Talak and Bakari. Of them both Bakari was the worst, the slash had done some deep damage. The wound was closed and sealed by Serpal, but the bulk of the healing was already closed by Bakari’s superior Astartes body.

 

Talak had already healed the most of his wounds with his powers, and Serpal simply had to give him a blood supplement quickly to return him back to his former health. After that, orders came in from Phosis T’kar himself for Nekhet, Sepht and Daror to escort Serpal to a group of 1st Fellowship warriors who had suffered significant casualties with an Eldar ambush.

 

Nekhet made good speed.

[Dosjetka]

I have read through this and I am amazed at your skill! I was gripped from start to finish...amazing! Of course, there are a few grammar mistakes here and there and a couple of things that aren't very clear but I don't have time to point them out now so I'll do it when I have time (in about a week or so).

Can't wait to read more mate! :P

 

Amazing stuff! :huh:

[Gree]

The Governor was a decadent man, Ammon Akharin, Adept Major of the Corvidae, Epistolary of the Thousand Sons, and warrior of the Sekhmet, mused as he watched a statue of a nude female blow apart when a stray bolter round struck it.

 

Of course a few seconds later the actual statue exploded when a stray bolter round struck it, just like Ahkarin predicted.

 

Fifty Sekhmet of the First Fellowship battled dozens of various Eldar warriors assaulting them around the Governor’s Palace, a towering building that once housed the now-deceased Governor of Tathe’s Landing. Magnus ordered to be taken, to serve as a communications post for the advancing Salamanders and Prosperite Spireguard coming up. Frankly Ahkarin did not see the point, for him the Athanaeans were good enough.

 

But Ahkarin was nothing if loyal to his primarch’s orders.

 

When the fifty warriors of the First had come to the place it had seemed fine, until Akharin got a vision of an ambush and ordered full battle order. The warning had come only a few seconds before the xenos burst out of the alleyways and attacked the Sekhmet, hidden by their own mental powers. An image of a blue-plated Eldar warrior driving a knife into his back appeared in his mind. Ahkarin whirled around and coated the head of his sekhem staff with blue lightening. He swept the sekhem staff through the chestplate of the Eldar warrior as it lunged with inhuman grace, crushing its torso.

 

‘’A good kill Brother.’’ Pervik Nelkar complimented him, as he came up nearby, his Tutelary, Soresis, hovering over his shoulder, coating his heqa staff in a field of darkness.

 

‘’Indeed.’’ Akharin saw a crimson-armored Eldar warrior flash in existence right before he actually did. When the Warp Spider came into being the Epistolary staff was ready to crush its skull.

 

The Librarian was well-read on the various combat reports compiled by the Emperor’s legions and various archeological evidence recovered from Eldar ruins by the Thousand Sons, to know about the Eldar warrior cults. Most of the enemy assaulting from around the streets near the Governor’s Palace appeared to be of the Dire Avenger and Striking Scorpion cults, with some of the Swooping Hawk and Warp Spider cults taking part as well.

 

In addition the forms of Eldar support walkers could be seen, blazing into the Astartes below. Two of the Sekhemet were blown apart by the blazing lasers of the walkers as they stooped forward. Ahkarin had a brief flash of a Pyrae wielding warrior. He shook it off and called his Tutelary to enhance his staff. Isirus responded with a mewl and came near him, feeding him power.

 

Ahkarin drew his bolt pistol and focused his mind’s eye. He shot as a blue-armored Eldar warrior, who jinked out of his aim before he pulled the trigger, causing the bolt to miss by inches. However that brought him right into a chainsword backhand from one of the Sekhemet. The head of the Eldar warrior rolled on the ground as the ruby-armored Astartes yanked his blade from the shoulderblades of the Avenger warrior.

 

Another image came of a xenos round striking him in the skull, killing him. Akharin sidestepped just as an Eldar sniper fired its rifle at him, causing it to miss by mere inches. In return Akharin allowed Isirus to peer into the strands of fate. Selecting the best event, he lined up his pistol and fired at extreme range. His prediction came true and the corpse of the Eldar warrior fell to the ground, blood dripping from its sniping perch.

 

‘’My lord,’’ came the voice of Previk Nelkar, ‘’I have received word that Nekhet, Sepht and Daror have arrived on the Eldar flank, they are driving the point home right to the command group of the Eldar.’’ he reported.

 

Ahkarin looked in the distance, seventy meters away, as ruby-armored warriors came out of a side street to launch a punishing crossfire on the Eldar coming up the main avenue to the Palace. Fire and lighting tore apart and immolated Eldar warriors, while disciplined volleys of bolter fire tore into the Aspect Warriors, who turned around to take cover and respond to the Thousand Sons.

 

Ahkarin chuckled. The Eldar and the Corvidae had been fighting a game of cat and mouse over the past several weeks, with their visions. Forces had struck and retreated according to the stands of fate. The Thousand Sons had had the advantage thanks for Magnus’s own incredible powers, but it had been close.

 

It looked like the Eldar did not see Nekhet then.

 

 

**

 

Ishkor felt Baltain feed power to him as he directed the warpfire into the Eldar ranks, two blue armored warriors with tall, peaked white helmets died screaming under his fires. Bakari’s bolter thumped as it clipped an Eldar warrior, sending him spinning to the ground.

 

Nekhet had made good time.

 

Aktar had ordered the squads to take cover along a set of high-rise gardens, having the Athanaeans in the squads hide their presence from the telepathic Eldar. It had not been easy, but they had managed to do it. The Eldar were caught off guard by the Thousand Sons bursting through the thick kyne-bushes, bolters firing in short, controlled bursts as they snipped of a portion of the xenos flank.

 

Aktar grabbed various statues and bits of broken metal gates and flung them at Eldar warriors, some managed to leap away with inhuman speed and grace, those who did not were quickly pulped by the heavy stone and metal. Tair and the other Raptora in the squads set up kine shields when the Eldar cult-warriors finally responded, sending a storm of shuriken into the advancing Thousand Sons. Ishkor felt pain in his knee were a lucky shuriken managed to pierce his weaker joints.

 

He sent out a pair of large fireballs at the hidden shooter, slaying them and turning the set of kyne-plants into a blazing inferno. More Eldar warriors began to fall back from their ambush on the First.

 

‘’Advance move up, I can see their commander-champion, kill him and we break their morale.’’ Aktar commanded.

 

At this, Nekhet and Daror advanced forward, supported by an Epistolary from the First. Sepht moved towards the Sekhmet with Serpal in tow, ready to harvest the geneseed of the fallen First Fellowship elite.

 

‘’Kine shields now!’’

 

Bolter fire cut down more Eldar as they fled with incredible speed back into the windows and walls of the Palace. Two of Daror fell to the concentrated Eldar fire, and Khosaru cried out in pain as a pair of shuriken cut into his arms. Aktar shrugged off a hip wound.

 

But the bulk of the Astartes advanced, safe under their kine shields.

 

‘’They hide in the palace, Pyrae, flush them out.’’ Aktar ordered.

 

Ishkor sent Baltain forward, channeling his powers through the Tutelary, doing so with his Tutelary was always harder than with himself, it was an advanced skill, one he had only recently mastered, but it proven to be worthy as frightful red flames coated the building’s front porches. Other fires from the Pyrae in the Daror and the Sekhmet quickly covered more of the front building. The unnatural flames quickly spread, forcing the Eldar warriors back through the building to move away quickly.

 

One of the Sekhmet died as an Eldar psyker came out of the burning building and laughed bolts of lightening over the kine shields to assault the Thousand Sons. The Sekhmet responded moments later with a burst of bolter fire, killing the psyker.

 

‘’There he is!’’ Khosaru spoke through the minds of the Thousand Sons, indicating the position of a blue- armored warrior armed with a gleaming scimitar. He had a guard of more blue-armored warriors around him.

 

The Eldar leader wore the same armor as his followers, yet more ornate and detailed, carved with strange Eldar runes that practically glowed with power to Ishkor’s warp-sensitive eyes. He could practically see the alien sigils in the Great Ocean. It pointed a sword at the Thousand Sons and gave a strange alien war cry. Immediately green-armored warriors came out to flank the Thousand Sons as the leader and his bodyguard moved forward, catching the Thousand Sons in a pincer movement.

 

‘’Kine shields!’’ Aktar roared, but it was too late.

 

The Astartes and Eldar collided, blades striking and bolters firing away at point blank rang. The rune-carved chainswords of the Eldar rent great wounds in Astartes flesh as fire and lighting whipped out from both sides.

 

The Eldar lord moved gracefully, a member of the Scarab Occult was the first to die, the blazing alien sword slicing off a limb form the veteran before beheading the Scarab warrior,. Then a second veteran died, gutted like a fish in the blink an en eye.

 

The Eldar lord moved with skill that was beyond even its fellows. A warrior of Daror fell next, a series of silver flashes removing both of the Astartes’ arms and then its head quickly.

 

Then it attacked Ishkor.

 

The Practicus barely managed to get up a shield of fire in time. The warrior lord fell back just in time, flames licking at its armor, Eldar runes flaring. Its sword flashed, but Inferni countered, fire running along the blade. There was a series of silver flashes, but Ishkor held his own. Yet the Thousand Sons knew that only that the flames that wreathed his form kept him alive from the Eldar lord’s ungodly skill. But his time was limited, eventually he would lose his head.

 

Then a sekhem staff blocked a sword thrust. The Eldar lord gazed at the form of a Thousand Sons librarian with the command markings of the Sekhmet. The newcomer moved with incredible skill, as if forewarned.

 

Then Ishkor saw his shoulder guard and understood.

 

Corvidae.

 

The sekhem staff blazed with blue fire as the Librarian countered the Eldar lord’s inhuman skill with his foresight, seeing attack coming moments before they were formed by the alien leader. They appeared to be equally matched.

 

Then the Librarian gained the upper hand.

 

The sekhem staff impaled the Eldar warrior through the stomach, crushing it’s lower torso. The Librarian smoothly withdrew the blade and struck again, only to be stopped by a forearm mounted force shield. Then Ishkor launched his attack. A funnel of red fire launched around the Corvidae Librarian to strike the Eldar lord’s side, engulfing him in a warp blaze. The alien lord was knocked back by the blaze.

 

Yet it flipped back up and launched another attack, giving another warcry at the Corvidae warrior. Ishkor drew upon Baltain’s reserves of power and blasted the Eldar lord again, turning it into a great blaze.

 

Yet it continued to fight.

 

But its movements slowed, and the Corvidae Librarian must have gotten lucky because as the Eldar lord’s blade cut through the shoulder guard of the Thousand Sons, drawing blood, the sekhem staff crushed the warriors’ skull, tearing it off.

 

The blazing body of the Eldar warrior fell to the ground, burning away.

 

**

 

With the death of the Eldar lord the xenos fled back, like a lantern chasing away shadows, their morale broken by his death. The Thousand Sons had won, but at a frightful cost in battle brothers.

 

Akharin ignored the pain in his shoulder plate. The wound was minor and his Astartes healing was already taking care of it, meanwhile the Apothecary had more pressing matters to take care of.

 

Ten Sekhmet were dead, and five were badly wounded. Their rest of his command retained some form of wound, but they were too minor to impair the ability for the Scarab Occult to fight. Serpal had already harvested their geneseed for the Legion banks when a Stormbird came down, the wounded were sent on it, along with several Sekhmet warriors to safeguard the bodies of the dead.

 

Another Stormbird had arrived, and rolled out two Land Raiders and four Rhinos. The drivers explained they had orders from Ahriman to transport the Sekhemet and Aktar’s force to a nearby sector for another offensive.

 

War never waits for anyone, he mused, mortal or Astartes.

 

He plucked a glowing stone from the breastplate of a slain Eldar warrior, he examined it briefly, feeling the Great Ocean’s power within it. He heard footsteps coming towards him ad looked up at Aktar and a Pyrae.

 

‘’Asten, it is good to see you again.’’ Akharin greeted his old squad mate warmly. The Raptora nodded.

 

‘’Ammon you too as well, I did not expect to see you so soon.’’ he replied. Akharin noticed the Pyrae.

 

‘’Is this another one of the youngbloods? One of Nekhet?’’ he asked.

 

‘’Yes,’’ Aktar said. ‘’This is Grannus Ishkor, a Practicus of the Pyrae.’’

 

Akharin noticed the hawk-like form of his Tutelary flapping above the Practicus. An interesting choice of familiar, given the squad’s name.

 

‘’You fought against the Exarch with me, good work.’’ Akharin said.

 

‘’Exarch? The warrior lord?’’ questioned Ishkor.

 

‘’Yes, they are the combination of many Eldar souls lost on their war-path concentrated into one warrior soul, they have millennia of experience, you were lucky to survive as long as you did.’’ Ahkarin said, analyzing this new warrior.

 

He was young, but held incredible raw power, with time Akharin suspected it might even surpass his own, but this one was young, and had still a long way to master the Enumerations and master his powers.

 

He took Ishkor’s hand in a warrior’s grip.

 

‘’I sense a good future for you.’’ he said.

 

‘’Is that a real vision?’’ Ishkor asked.

 

Akharin laughed. ‘’No, I can see your potential.’’

 

‘’That being said it’s almost time to move out.’’ Aktar said.

 

‘’Yes,’’ Akharin said. ‘’Ahriman was quite insistent about it.’’

 

The two Land Raiders, Falcon’s Eye, and the Apep, named after the fallen Thousand Sons captain, rolled up. They were manufactured from their forges of Mars barely four years ago, and still had new honor markings.

 

Four Rhinos came up, however there would only be enough warriors in the Thousand Sons taskforce to hold two of the Land Raiders and three of the Rhinos. When Akharin asked the driver why the extra Rhino was there, he shrugged and got this-

 

‘’Ahriman’s vision.’’

[Gree]

The Thousand Sons column drove through the streets of Tathe’s Landing. They were strangely empty of the usual Eldar ambush teams, probably drawn off by the Salamanders offensive.

 

Ishkor sat within the Falcon’s Eye, next to Bakari and Aktar. The rune-screen on the side of the Land Raider flashed with each sweep of its internal auspex. Ishkor felt the side paneling, he could practically feel the machine spirit of the beast. All vehicles had machine spirits, but Ishkor heard that Land Raiders possessed something more than what most vehicles had. Riding in a Land Raiders was different from a Rhino or Stormbird.

 

There was a brief shake.

 

‘’What was that?’’ Ishkor asked.

 

‘’Contact up ahead, I believe we have found our objective.’’ Khosaru said, receiving thoughts from the rest of the convoy.

 

A loud whizzing sound came along with a harsh heavy bark. The Land Raiders was opening fire, the tank moved beneath them and into a new firing position. Behind Ishkor, Baltian flapped in anticipation.

 

‘’Prepare yourselves,’’ the voice of the driver came. ‘’Contact imminent.’’ Ishkor got up, Bakari grabbing his bolter. Aktar readied his heqa staff and stepped to the front of the ramp.

 

‘’Kine shields.’’ he ordered.

 

Quickly, the Epistolary and Tair set up a kine shield as the door to the land raider slammed down. A hail of laser bursts and shuriken rounds pattered off the shield. The invisible shield of pure thought advanced as Nekhet came out of Falcon’s Eye.

 

Before them was a wide plaza, leading into a series of side eateries and restaurants. The massive form of a downed Stormbird painted in the colors of the Salamanders dominated the plaza.

 

Dozens upon dozens of Eldar were assaulting the Stormbird, from various fire positions blue-armored warriors laid down covering from for groups of green armored Scorpion-warriors and female Banshees. Roughly two dozen Salamanders were fighting, taking cover among the wreckage of the Stormbird and various metal seats in the plaza stands. However that was not what drew Nekhet’s eyes.

 

‘’Lord Vulkan!’’ Ishkor gasped.

 

The Primarch stood tall, dueling a dozen of the green-armored Scorpion warriors. He was tall, taller than any Astartes that Ishkor had ever laid eyes upon. His skin was dark, and swarthy. His armor was wondrous crafted, the color of sea green with images of fire artificer-stenciled into the plates. One shoulder guard was made of the skull of a Firedrake, while the other was covered by a great cloak of green scales.

 

The Primarch was simply awe-inspiring.

 

And he was fighting a dozen Scorpion-warriors, even one of the veteran Librarians of the legions would have paused at fighting so many elite Eldar warriors, but Vulkan was slaughtering them with incredible ease.

 

A God of War.

 

‘’Concentrate!’’ Aktar voxed. ‘’Lord Vulkan and his men are beset! Advance.’’ he reached out, plucking a blue-armored Eldar warrior and crushing him with a wave of pure thought.

 

Nekhet opened fire, Ishkor with his flames, Nassor with his lightning, Tair with bolts of pure force, and the rest with a wave of disciplined bolter bursts that cut down several Eldar warriors. Nearby, Akharin and proud Sekhemet were exiting from their Land Raider and Rhinos, opening fire with their own weapons. Tutelaries glowed as they fed their Pyrae and Pavoni wielders with power.

 

A blue armored Eldar warrior was burnt to death by a fireball cast from Ishkor’s hand, next to him two green-armored warrior had their blood boiled by Nassor as the Thousand Sons advanced under the fire of the Land Raiders. Caught suddenly by this new assault the Eldar turned about, trying to repulse the Astartes, rather then annihilate them. Robed warlocks and armored aspect warriors welled about squad by squad.

 

Bolts of warp lighting danced from an Eldar warlock as he came up against Nassor, the Pavoni matched blades with him, pure bolts of psychic energy coruscating through their blades. The Pavoni and the Eldar locked wills, fighting with their minds rather than their bodies. Nassor was surprised by his opponent’s power. Clearly the Eldar were more skilled than he had given them credit for.

 

Lightning ran through his stomach and Nassor shoved back mentally, sending the Eldar warlock stumbling, armor blackened and burnt. Nassor brought his sickle-blade around, impaling the Eldar through the heart.

 

Aktar and Tair muttered through the Enumerations, sending bolts of pure through into various Eldar warriors who were falling back under the sudden psychic onslaught from the two Raptora.

 

The Sekhemt advanced forward, several warriors launching fire from their fingertips or blasting away with bolts of warp lighting. Akharin gave a curt chop with his sekhem staff for the kine shields to be maintained.

 

‘’Eldar are taking up position, dark-armored ones, they are going to fire upon the lord Primarch!’’ Khosaru’s voice broke through the thoughts of Nekhet, in response Aktar’s voice came on.

 

‘’Bakari, Tair and myself stay here,’’ indicating the squad of Dire Avengers. A set of shuriken rounds cut through Aktar’s shoulder guard. ‘’Nassor, Talak, Khosaru and Ishkor, move in and eliminate those Eldar.’’

 

Ishkor gave an affirmative as he broke from a mêlée with a one-armed Eldar warrior, his power-armored legs pumping full sprint towards a large nearby wall that Khosaru had mentally indicated. His autosenses picked out the forms of dark-armored warriors moving in and beginning to open fire with long-scythe like cannons at the Salamanders. Two of the Astartes fell, slain.

 

Ishkor channeled Baltain’s power, feeling the Tutelary’s strength. He reached out, flames swirling around his fingertips. The inferno erupted over the broken wall to land among the Reaper-warriors. An Eldar warrior thrashed around, reaper cannon spitting fire into a nearby wall as the unnatural flames consumed his body and armor. A burst of fire consumed the arms of another Reaper-warrior.

 

Khosaru sent a burst of shells, knocking a Reaper Warrior back. The Eldar stumbled, bits of wraith-armor blown away in the streets. The warrior managed to turn his autocannon around just in time for Nassor to close the distance lightning crackling around his form. The Pavoni’s blade disarmed the Eldar warrior, sending the frontal part of the cannon and the limb spinning away. The Reaper-warrior brought it’s other arm around in a quick arc, but a burst of lighting engulfed the Edlar’s armored body, blazing arcs of warp electricity leap out of it’s eye sockets, roasting it’s nervous system.

 

The fight was short and brutal as the Eldar tried to fight back, but caught as they where between the Thousand Sons and the Salamanders, the Eldar had very little chances of victory. They fled, like ethereal wraiths, leaving behind their dead and dying. They where gone almost as instantly as they came.

 

Ishkor walked through the streets, taking in the form of the Salamanders primarch with awe. Vulkan cast aside the crushed carcasses of the Eldar warriors he had slain and started towards the Thousand Sons.

 

With a shock Ishkor realized that Vulkan was coming towards him, he was the furthest Thousand Son out there.

 

‘’A fire-wielder, you wield the flames like my own legion’s Librarians.’’ Vulkan rumbled, his voice deep, like a distant volcano, but at the same time filled with an incredible sense of power and charisma.

 

Ishkor stuttered, completely overtaken by the Primarch’s charisma. He could form no words. Simply be being in the presence of one of the Emperor’s own sons was too much for him.

 

‘’I was wondering when my brother would send reinforcements.’’ Vulkan continued.

 

‘’My-my lord, I am honored, we simply did your duty.’’ Ishkor said.

 

I am speaking to a primarch, a primarch. Ishkor thought. He had seen his own gene-father from afar, and listened to the lectures Magnus had given. But he had never gotten a chance to speak personally with a primarch.

 

‘’Lord Vulkan, we have arrived at the orders of Lord Ahriman and Lord Magnus.’’ Aktar came, walking up to the Salamanders gene-lord, Ahkarin following behind him, indicating for the Sekhmet to take up guard positions. Two warriors also came behind Vulkan.

 

One of them removed his helmet, exposing his black skin and burning red eyes. He nodded to Ishkor.

 

‘You have my thanks, I am Nes’ten, of the Firedrakes, Champion of my lord.’’ he said to Ishkor.

 

Recognition hit the Practicus. ‘’You were under attack by the Reaper warriors.’’ he said.

 

Nes’ten nodded. Ishkor returned the favor and removed his own MKIII helm. The features of the Salamander were broad faced, bald with thin lips and a thick nose over a broad Astartes face.

 

‘’Indeed, We would have lost battle brothers if you had not saved us.’’ He explained. Ishkor took a liking to this warrior, he had a sense of nobility about him that drew the Practicus in.

 

Vulkan’s voice brought Ishkor back to the main conversation.

 

‘’-We were shot down as I brought my Firedrakes to link up with the main advance.’’ said Vulkan, indicating the crashed Stormbird. A Salamanders Apothecary was moving among the dead, harvesting the gene-seed of the fallen.

 

‘’We have brought transportation my lord,’’ Ahkarin said. ‘’If you wish it true to the main forces we can-‘’ he began.

 

‘’No,’’ Vulkan interrupted. He held up one giant hand, the size of a normal Astartes’s head. ‘’I apologize for the interrupted Librarian Ahkarin, but we have another task ahead of us, one that we must bear to defeat the Eldar.’’ Vulkan spat out the last word hatefully.

 

Ishkor knew well of the enmity that the Salamanders held for the Eldar race. He had heard tales of how the Salamanders Primarch fought that psychic race when he was but a youth.

 

‘’Can you feel it? The tang of war, an alien feel in the air.’’ Vulkan said.

 

‘’Yes, I feel it.’’ Aktar said. Ahkarin sucked in air.

 

‘’Yes, I feel it too, something big is about to happen-‘’ he started.

 

Then the Thousand Sons felt it.

 

Power flowed through the air, something old, something impossibly ancient was coming into being.

 

‘’The shard of the Eldar war god,’’ Vulkan said softly. ‘’They have summoned it to do their bidding, if we do not stop it now, it will carve through the front ranks of the Legions.’’ he said.

 

He looked at the assembled group of warriors. ‘’Cut off the head of the drake, and the body dies, we will end the war on Tathe’s Landing within the hour, who is with me?’’

 

Vulkan did not need to ask. A wave of affirmation filled the plaza.

 

 

 

A dozen warriors from both Legions stayed behind at the Stormbird, another Stormbird was called in to reinforce the positions of the Legions and ferry the remaining wounded back to the main lines. In all Vulkan took place in the Apep with Ahkarin while the rest of the Salamanders broke ranks and intermixed with the Thousand Sons, a sigh of trust that Nekhet was especially honored by.

 

Two Thousand Sons Land Raiders and eight Rhinos full of warriors from both Legions came out, the Raiders covering the vanguard of the Astartes convoy. Ahead Thunderbolts filled the air, along with some of the new model Thunderhawks.

 

Nes’ten sat on the other side of Ishkor in the Falcon’s Eye. He wore a master-tooled suit of MKIII armor, colored a deep green. He wore a great scaled cloak over that, the hide of a great drake, the skull of which formed one shoulder guard. The other sported his Legion heraldry proudly.

 

‘’You use a sword, that is a fine blade.’’ Nes’ten said.

 

‘’What? Oh yes.’’ Ishkor was snapped out of his reviere.

 

Ishkor examined Inferni, he looked at the Salamander’s own sword, a dragon-hilted blade the color of carmine. Silently the Thousand Sons marveled at the craftsmanship of the blade, it easily rivaled his own relic-forged blade.

 

‘’I am not much of a judge of things, this blade is attuned to me after the death of it’s previous owner.’’ Ishkor explained modestly.

 

‘’Who was that?’’ Nes’ten asked.

 

‘’Xanatos Rall,’’ Aktar answered. ‘’A hero of the Legion, he fell against the orks many years ago.’’

 

‘’You have my sympathies.’’ Nes’ten said, nodded to Aktar.

 

‘’He died a hero’s death,’’ Ishkor replied. ‘’But why did you need to know?’’ he asked curiously.

 

‘’We Salamanders have a love for the forge, I have rarely seen such a finely crafted blade before it’s make us of Terran style, of the Ural blade-clans, but modified for a psyker.’’ Nes’ten explained, a curious glint in his crimson eyes.

 

‘’May I see it?’’ he asked, holding out one green gauntlet.

 

‘’Of course.’’ Ishkor gave it too him, the crystals dimming as it left his hand.

 

‘’Yes, definitely Terran make’’ Nes’ten said. ‘’And if judging by the sheen and make of the blade this must have been forged when your legion was first founded’’ he marveled. Aktar nodded.

 

‘’He is right.’’ Nes’ten gave it back.

 

‘’Does your blade hold a noble history?’’ Khosaru asked, trying to return the favor.

 

Nes’ten laughed suddenly. ‘’I should hope so, I forged it myself!’’ he grinned proudly.

 

‘’Yourself?’’ Ishkor was impressed at the master-work blade. He looked like a relic from some heroic age, like his own.

 

‘’Sixty years ago I was inducted into the XVIII Legion from the cities of Nocturne, after a four decades I was accepted into the Firedrakes, upon which I forged this blade myself.’’ he patted the weapon.

 

‘’We Salamanders have a love of metalworking and of blades, this extends back on our homeworld as well.’’ Nes’ten explained.

 

‘’I heard of your Legion’s skill, but to this extent…’’ Bakari joined in.

 

‘’I have heard I skill is rivaled by only the X Legion, the Iron Hands, I myself have no fought alongside those warriors so I can say little.’’ Nes’ten shrugged.

 

‘’You speak of Nocturne, what is your homeworld like?’’ Khosaru asked.

 

Nes’ten closed his red eyes and breathed in deeply.

 

‘’Nocturne? It’s not pretty, but it’s home, the volcanoes are great and black, the ash plains long and infested with predators, but the ground is rich with minerals and metals, the Seven Settlements are home.’’ Nes’ten said, his voice heavy with remembrance.

 

‘’I’ve heard things about your planet’s radiation interfering with the gene0seed, is that why you have……’’Nassor indicated Nes’ten’s skin.

 

‘’Ishum you go too far.’’ Aktar warned. But Nes’ten laughed good-naturedly again.

 

‘’Maybe, maybe not, these are the traits of my primarch, just as you have the features of yours, I have mine, besides, you still have to speak of your homeworld, Prospero.’’ Nes’ten asked, changing the subject discreetly.

 

Ishkor took chance before Nassor could run his mouth again.

 

‘’Prospero is in many ways a paradise, white mountains, green fields, blue seas. It’s probably to what you have experienced, but we are shaped by our homeworld just as with your’s’’ Ishkor said.

 

‘’The City of Light is a place of learning and wisdom, one could say we are to knowledge as you are to metalworking. The place on the outside of Prospero is called the desolation, infested with beasts called the psychneuenin, evil things, we hunt them daily to train our neophytes.’’ Bakari remembered.

 

‘’Each of our cults had a Pyramid, constructed of out ceramite and synth-glass, and bordered with silver. The warriors of the legion train and study there, watching over the people of Ticza.’’ Ishkor said softly , remembering his home.

 

‘’I see, an interesting place, someday I would like to visit.’’ Nes’ten remarked, sounding genuinely interested.

 

‘’Aye, maybe you can visit it in the future.’’ Ishkor commented.

 

‘’Aye, maybe.’’ Nes’ten echoed.

[Dosjetka]

Wow, I especially liked this last part. I really like how you portray the differences and similarities between the Thousand Sons and the Salamanders :pinch:

 

What's next? :D

 

Ludovic

[Legio Draconis]

Some grammar mistakes and some of the word structure can be jarring but all in all an amazing tale. Keep up the good work.

[Brother Cambrius]

Just started and finished reading what you've done thus far and I must say I am very very impressed by what you've written thus far! As mentioned a number of grammatical errors, but it doesn't draw anything from the work so far. Looking forward to more!

 

Cambrius