Sons of Orpheus

[Ufthak]

Concerning the Guard:

Hm, must have missed that bit when reading the codex, but makes sense.

Though, in any case, you could hardly call a 120,000-strong regiment a "regiment" - more like an army! Imagine being a Colonel in charge of such a regiment - impossible to wield effectively!

My guesses are that such huge formations are regiments in name only and are broken up into 1,000-4,000 man sub-units in order to fight effetcively with regiments from other worlds.

But that's just me thinking :)

 

In any case, great story!!!

Though I hope the squad now gets a chance to go home and pick up some reinforcements...

 

Keep it up, would love to hear more! You could write a sort of Compendium "The Chrinocles of a Praetor" or something :P

[Gree]

Concerning the Guard:

Hm, must have missed that bit when reading the codex, but makes sense.

Though, in any case, you could hardly call a 120,000-strong regiment a "regiment" - more like an army! Imagine being a Colonel in charge of such a regiment - impossible to wield effectively!

My guesses are that such huge formations are regiments in name only and are broken up into 1,000-4,000 man sub-units in order to fight effetcively with regiments from other worlds.

But that's just me thinking :)

 

Well the unit in quedstion is the Vahallan 18th under Commander Chenkov. They don't often remain at that size for very long given Chenkov's love for human wave tactics into the teeth of enemy guns. ;)

 

In any case, great story!!!

Though I hope the squad now gets a chance to go home and pick up some reinforcements...

 

You will see that next story.

 

Keep it up, would love to hear more! You could write a sort of Compendium "The Chrinocles of a Praetor" or something ;)

 

Yes, my Sig is getting crowded. I should start a new thread soon and put all my links in their then.

[Ufthak]

To everyone browsing the Short Stories Section:

 

I hereby decree Gree's stories to be high-class!

 

Really folks, very good stories, I highly recommend them! :)

[Gree]

Wolves Part One.

 

****

 

I am Varion Nicanor

 

Praetor of Orpheus. Servant of the Emperor.

 

The Third Company returned to our blessed birth-world of Orpheus barely a month after the campaign on Sathis III was finished. I cannot tell you how glad my heart was to set foot on the sacred soil of Orpheus.

 

I visited the great underground forge-cities and hydroponics farms. I gazed upon the vast factories and drill houses for the citizens of Orpheus. I saw the vast Temple of the Primarch on Orphic Primaris.

 

And then..............

 

I returned home to the Labyrinth of Orpheus, the honored fortress of the Chapter, a place consisting of miles of armored vaults, training halls and fortress chapels. I wandered the halls of the ancients, past the carved names of past heroes and through and training chapels. I made my respects to the Primarch and I rejoined my brothers. I spent two days hunting cave bears and rock vipers through the winding mining tunnels of Orpheus with only a combat knife. Through the darkness of the shafts I stalked and brought back the heads of three cave-ursuine.

 

Then I went to work.

 

For a week my squad trained and rested while Captain Marcenus of the Seventh Company prepared a list of recruits to transfer from the Reserve to the Battle Company. Ceranus honed his ever present aim while Morovian raced Apion on the wind-blasted surface of Orpheus.

 

The Third Company took it's pick from the Seventh, the Eight and the Ninth. Thirty new battle brothers from multiple companies joined us, now fully-fledged members of the battle companies. Four brothers joined Second Squad.

 

Four new warriors to fight alongside.

 

Protus is slender for a marine, his body whipcord fast. He has received noted honors from his time in the Tenth and the Eighth. Then there is Rhesus, recruited from the northern Aorum cities. I've already read his files. He is being considered for entry into the Techmarines due to his aptitude for machines. He is privileged to wear a older suit of Mark III armor. Then there is Heron, son of an Orphic Legatus and one of the most famous noble families. Many of Heron's bloodline have been selected over the millenia to become Astartes. He is prideful, and full of himself. I cannot blame him, for he has much to prove. The last is Verties, a shaven brutal warrior, recruited from the deep mines of Herasus. He is grim and resolute, like a hunting dog or Orphic cavebear.

 

Three weeks were spent meshing the new recruits into the squad, making sure we performed smoothly on the battlefield. Barriers were broken down and I made the customary attempts to form warrior's bonds. We attended Iapetos's mass and conducted field exercises with the brothers of the Fifth. All in the name of honing our war-skills.

 

Then we received a plea of help.

 

Chapter Astropaths received a call of mobilization from Segmentum Command along with details on Hive Fleet Kraken. The Ultramarines, our honored founders, had broken the Tyranids at Ichar IV. But Kraken had splintered like a shrapnel shell exploding, sending tendrils of Kraken to scatter throughout the Ultima Segmentum questing for biomass.

 

One of these tendrils had been sighted in advance of Dameia, the capital of the Octavian sub-sector. Three worlds of the sub-sector had already been consumed and the loss of Dameia could not be tolerated by the Chapter Master. Dameia is an old world, liberated in the days of the Great Crusade by Roboute Guilliman and Leman Russ. It is an equal parts mix of industrial world and shrine world dedicated to the glory of Him on Terra.

 

This is a world we cannot allow to fall.

 

Chapter Master Hypatos dispatched Captain Atreus and the Third, alongside Captain Doron's Sixth with supporting detachments from the First and Tenth Companies. We do not take the Arclight. Instead Strike Force Atreus, as it came to be known, traveled in the Sword of Guilliman, one of the Chapter's Battle Barges. We march out from the Labyrinth and into Orphic Primaris, past the cheering citizens who are excused from their production quotas for this one chance to see the sons of Orpheus off to war on far away stars.

 

The journey lasts six days. We arrived early, rendezvousing with the Imperial Fleet. As we come in we find out that we are not the only Astartes present in system. There is a great gray-blue ship bearing the symbol of the wolf.

 

It's name is the Wrath of Fenris. The Space Wolves have come to honor their debt too.

 

Then Tyranids come, in a great swarm, System monitors and the Imperial Navy join the fight to hold off the Kraken, but the Hive Fleet deposits it deadly cargo on the planet below. The invasion begins and Atreus dispatches his strike force to were they are most needed. For the first few days we fight off the vanguard swarms of the Tyranids in rapid strikes. Most of the xenos swarm gathers in the dust-wastes, marshaling before they strike the shrine-cities of Dameia.

 

However, mighty as the sons of Guilliman are, we cannot win alone.

 

**

 

''They are coming then?'' Fenrik asked Agmund.

 

''Aye'' Agmund Firetooth scowled as he did so. The warrior was the son of a jarl to the North, who were been famed in their skill at hunting Kraken. Considering the present situation it was an almost amusing coincidence. Agmund's fiery red hair was braided with bands of copper and twine, casting his nickname well.

 

He wore the gray-blue of the Space Wolves well. One shoulder guard depicted the heraldry of Wolf Lord Krom Dragongaze. The other identified his pack markings as belonging to Krom's Wolf Guard. Over his shoulders he wore the night black hide of a Blackmane wolf. His frostblade was sheathed at his side. Fenrik was slightly shorter with long white-blonde hair and sharper features. He was from the Dragon Isles and the son of a blacksmith. He had earned his induction into the Chapter after he slew a Night-Troll in single combat.

 

Agmund was a rising star in the Great Company, having been promoted from the same pack as Fenrik over twenty years ago. Fenrik had defended a bridge against a host of orks, allowing a group of refugees to escape, and Agmund had slain three greenskin chieftains. The advancement was something that made Fenrik's heart beat fiercely with pride.

 

However instead of joining their lord at his side, Krom Dragongaze sent them to mentor new packs of Blood Claws, figuring they were mature enough to lead, but young enough to emphasize with the newly blooded claws. On one hand it was a honor to lead a pack of the Chapter's recruits into battle at the behest of their lord. On the other hand......................it was almost a torment to lead the chapter's new recruits into battle. Both of them hardly believed they were once like those Blood Claws only a few decades ago. They had been regulated into reigning in insolent pups to the duration of the campaign.

 

Krom Dragongaze received word of Dameia's distress only a few weeks ago and hastened to defend the world. He had been far from Fenris, pursuing a Eldar witch-lord across the stars, but he had changed his objective to defend the shrine world that Russ had liberated from xenos domination ten millenia ago.

 

Fenrik was satisfied. The Xenos swarm would come, and the Wolves would break them.

 

Agmund was restless, his warrior's soul called out for glory and action. But there would be none until the Tyranids reached the large factory cities of Dameia. Most of the outer settlements and towns on Dameia had been evacuated into the eight cities. Krom Dragongaze led most of the Great Company in delaying the vanguard swarms. Such action for ambushes required stealth and patience, none of which the Blood Claws had. So the Blood Claws had been garrisoned in the cities where they had grown restless. Fenrik had to emphasize with them. He, Jorin and Agmund busied themselves with training and feasting in preparation for the murder-make.

 

And then the Praetors had landed.

 

The Wolves had received little word from their brother Chapter until their leader had requested an audience with their command post. Krom Dragongaze was unavailable, so Jorin Stormhammer, Krom's senior Wolf Guard, was to receive the visitors instead. Agmund was displeased at the news. Their were seventy regiments of Imperial Guard alongside millions of PDF, but he believed that the Space Wolves would form the cornerstone of the Imperial defense and the tip of the Imperial spear when the inevitable counterattack would come.

 

The Wolves needed no help, especially not from Guilliman's starch arses.

 

Fenrik wasn't so sure. While he had little desire to follow the dictates of Guilliman's book, he knew that the honor records of the Praetors were well-earned. However what truly sat ill with him was their connection to the Mechanicus. The Wolves had Iron Priests of course, and all Astartes chapters employed Techmarines. But the Praetors enjoyed something more than a mere training pact. Some said they served the Mechanicus over the Emperor.

 

Fenrik doubted those rumors himself, but you never knew.

 

The Space Wolves walked through the carved, votive halls of the Venetratus. In the aftermath of Dameia's liberation ten thousand years ago, shrines to the liberators had been set up. The Emperor was revered as their savior and his sons as heroes. The Venetratus was one of the largest shrines on Dameia and the Space Wolves had taken it as their command post and place of residence. The shrine was ten stories tall, topped with icons of golden eagles and carved silver wolves. Alongside it's walls were depictions of Space Wolf warriors in archaic armor defeating greenskins and casting the xenos from Dameia. The Ultramarines featured, but only to the sides of the frescoes. The Venatratus was a shrine mostly focused to Russ.

 

Inside the Venetratus, banners of the Great Company were hung. Rooms were cleared out for feasting tables and wolfskins were spread. This place would be a home away from home for the Wolves. Outside the Iron Priests had fortified the already formidable building. Extending to the shrine was a spaceport. In peacetime it was used to transport visitors to the shrine. However in wartime it had been a place of access for the Space Wolf Thunderhawks and transports, used to ferry warriors and supplies from orbit to the ground.

 

Auto-doors slid open, the machine spirits recognizing the two Wolf Guard as they stepped out into the wide tarmac of the landing pads. Fenrisian bondsmen equipped with glow-flags and landing equipment waved down a great blue and white vehicle. Fenrik instantly recognized the boxy form of a Thunderhawk. He had ridden in them countless times before. However it was still somewhat of a new experience to see the vehicle in blue and white, instead of the blue-gray of Fenris.

 

''And here they are.'' Agmund said softly.

 

**

 

Inside the Eagle's Wing Nicanor felt the power pack plug into his suit of Mark VII armor. All around him his squad hooked up to their backpacks and donned their helmets, running through their diagnostic and weapons checks. Nicanor finished the ritual quickly and efficiently before glancing at Heliocles.

 

The Librarian sat at the end of the Thunderhawk. His armor was mostly blue with only one white shoulder-guard. His face was broad and handsome in a sort of drawn, gaunt way. His skull was shaved with the mechanics of his psy-hood plugged into the access ports on his skull. He carried an ornately detailed force halberd in his hands. Scrolls of purity and wisdom hung from his shoulder guards. Epistolary Heliocles was one of the most senior officers of the Chapter and one of the most powerful psykers the Praetors had. He had been assigned to the Third Company for the mission, intended to counter the effects of the Hive Mind and to aid Atreus in any way he could.

 

With Atreus leading his men at the front lines, the Captain sent Heliocles to meet with the Wolves and discuss tactics and strategies until the Captain completed his strikes against the vanguard swarms. Squad Nicanor had been selected as an honor guard for the Librarian.

 

Nicanor felt uneasy around Heliocles, as did his squad. Technically the psyker was a mutant, a witch, something that Astartes were expected to fight against and abhor. Yet Heliocles was also an Astartes and a fellow son of Guilliman to boot. He had went through the same training and was born on the same world. Nicanor knew he could trust the Librarian with his life, but.....................

 

….........Their was something strange and unsettling about Heliocles. Something unnatural. Ceranus supposed that it was the warp about him. Nicanor was no expert in such matters. Instead he merely obeyed the commands of his Captain an followed the Librarian's orders. If Heliocles was offended or unsettled by his brothers' attitude, he gave no sign. Merely a permanent, slight smile on his features.

 

''We already went over this-'' Heliocles began. His voice was smooth and calm with an almost relaxing quality to it, but there was almost a smug undertone in it. Blue lights flickered in his dark eyes briefly.

 

''-But I will go over it again. As you all know, the Space Wolves are our cousins of a sort. Their Primarch was Guilliman's brother and had fought alongside him in many campaigns. Both Primarchs liberated this world, and I expect you to give them the utmost respect.'' he started.

 

Nicanor knew that the Space Wolves last fought with the Praetors two millenia ago. Chapter records about that campaign had mostly been concerned with details of tactics used against the orks that the two Chapters fought, along with a few thinly disguised remarks about the Wolves's barbaric nature. The Praetors knew of the Wolves's famously independent and wild nature. That kind of behavior sat poorly with the Praetors of Orpheus who had conducted their battles according to the Codex Astartes and were raised in the spartan labyrinth-cities of Orpheus.

 

Not to mention their own................unique traits. The histories of the Chapter recorded instances of minor mutations among the Wolves. That was another thing that made Nicanor uneasy. The Praetors, like most of the Second Founding had maintained pure geneseed since the day they had been founded by Roboute Guilliman.

 

But to see such mutation in fellow Astartes was disquieting.

 

Nicanor had fought alongside other chapters before, of course. He had fought alongside the Iron Champions, the Genesis, the Ultramarines and the Imperial Fists. While the Praetors had exemplary service with those chapters it had always been dogged by an undercurrent of distrust. It was mostly because of their attachment to the Mechanicus. The Praetors embraced their technologies and Techmarines. In the Praetors the Techmarines were not shunned, but respected and honored. All Praetors were expected to honor the ancient treaties binding the Praetors and the Mechanicus together.

 

Nicanor cared little of what others thought of the Chapter's relationship with Mars.

 

We serve the Emperor above all else, he thought. We know where our loyalties are.

 

''Do not remark upon the Codex Astartes. Be curt, reserved, but respectful. If the Wolves insist on telling you about the latest ork they have slain, then listen politely. If they offer you a drink, take it.'' Heliocles rattled off as his own power pack connected.

 

''Wolves,'' Ceranus muttered, shaking his helmeted head. ''Why did it had to be Wolves? Why not the Genesis? Or better yet the Ultramarines?''

 

''Oh I wish,'' Protus nodded. Despite the training exercises the new squad members had not really melded fully with the older members of Squad Nicanor.

 

''They are barbarians,'' Heron said. ''They believe they are too good for the Codex? Too good for ten millenia of battle-tested doctrine and the words of our Primarch? What arrogance and stupidity.''

 

''They obey their Primarch as we obey ours, it's too be expected after all.'' Lukias said.

 

''You would side with the wolf men?'' Nicanor imagined that Protus was raising an eyebrow beneath his helm.

 

''I pay respect to fellow warriors.'' Lukias replied.

 

''Drunks more like it.'' Ceranus muttered.

 

There were a series of chuckles from Protus and Heron.

 

''What did I just say?'' Heliocles interrupted softly.

 

The chuckles stopped.

 

''I do believe I just told you to be respectful to our comrades,'' Heliocles remarked casually. ''I would hate to think you are disobeying my orders.'' he leaned back.

 

''My apologies Brother-Epistolary.'' Protus bowed his head. Heron followed a few seconds later, then Ceranus.

 

''You are assigned five extra hours of firing practice on the Sword of Guilliman when we return,'' Heliocles admonished them.

 

There was silence for a few seconds.

 

''About that drunkenness-'' Apion began.

 

''What did I just say?'' asked Heliocles.

 

''I mean no insult, I was simply wondering how they got drunk, an Astartes's body is highly resistant to poisons. Myself and Daecus once drank wine all day and we did not get dunk. Do you remember that Dae?'' Apion asked.

 

''Sure, sure. I drank nineteen bottles and barley felt a tingle,'' Daecus nodded. ''I've heard of mortals talk about drunkenness and hangovers. I am mildly curios to see what it's like.''

 

''Curiosity can be dangerous sometimes.'' Nicanor commented.

 

''I am confident in my ability to guard against alcohol.'' Apion deadpanned.

 

''You will be able to ask that yourselves then.'' Rhesus pointed out. The Thunderhawk's landing runes flashed as the door dropped.

 

''Let's go.'' Nicanor commanded.

 

The Praetors piled out, moving in a Codex-pattern honor guard formation, five to each side, forming a pathway for Heliocles to walk out. The Librarian exited the Thunderhawk, his halberd resting in hand. There was a small smile on his face.

 

There were two Wolves to greet them. Nicanor felt almost disappointed that there was no honor guard.

 

Nicanor took the opportunity to study them. One of the Wolves was red haired with a great beard and wearing a black wolfskin cloak. The other was a scarred blonde warrior with his white blonde hair pulled back into a topknot. Their armor was blue-gray with images of wolves depicted on their shoulder guards. Tribal fetishes and wolf teeth hung from necklaces and runic script was engraved on their greaves and vambraces.

 

''I am Epistolary Albian Heliocles of the Praetors of Orpheus, I greet you sons of Russ.'' Heliocles nodded respectfully.

 

The red-haired one looked at Heliocles with a sour look. The blonde haired one intervened.

 

''You are a wyrd?'' he asked.

 

''If by 'wyrd' you mean 'psyker', then yes I am wyrd,'' Heliocles smiled. ''I am in command for this delegation, now I am informed that Lord Dragongaze is not present, however one of his lieutenants is here, correct?''

 

''Did the wyrd tell you that?'' the red-haired one said.

 

''Maybe.'' Heliocles gave a ghostly smile.

 

''I forgot to introduce ourselves. I am Fenrik Iceclaw,'' the blonde one said, nodding his head. His green eyes flickered to look at his companion.

 

''…........I am Agmund Firetooth.'' the red-haired Wolf finally said.

 

''This is Squad Nicanor, commanded by as you have guessed, Sergeant Nicanor,'' Heliocles indicated Nicanor. ''Now that's out of the way shall we come in?''

 

**

 

 

''I don't think Jorin will be happy that we brought him a wyrd, especially one of Guilliman's trained witches.'' Agmund huffed, looking down below at the groups of Blood Claws as they sparred with deactivated chainblades.

 

Fenrik was inclined to agree. Unlike the Rune Priests of Fenris, who drew their power from the storm-spirits of the planet. Psykers drew their power from the Warp, the providence of daemons and magicks. In all making them rather untrustworthy. Fenrik was always amused by the fact that the Wolves even needed psykers to even fight. Without Astropaths and Navigators no Wolf fleet would be able to safely travel the Sea of Stars in the Allfather's name. That the Imperium distrusted psykers, yet relied upon him was an interesting paradox.

 

''I trust Old Jorin will deal with it, the psyker won't try any tricks on him,'' Fenrik supposed. Jorin Stormhammer was a bear of a man, massive in his ornate Terminator Armor. Almost half of his body was replaced with augmetics and flesh grafts over his five centuries of service to Russ. He was one of Krom Dragongaze's most trusted huscarls.

 

Below them Floke, one of Agmund's Blood Claws, was knocked back by a knuckle punch to the face by Dagur, one of Fenrik's initiates. Fenrik grunted in approval.

 

''A cheap blow.'' Agmund cast a disapproving eye.

 

''You used that one of Varkus to take out that ork yourself.'' Fenrik reminded his friend.

 

''That's because he was a xenos, you don't use that against a fellow Wolf.'' Agmund said.

 

Down below Einar, the Blood Claw pack leader of Agmund's group, copied the move and sent his opponent stumbling back.

 

''You were saying?'' Fenrik asked.

 

''What were you saying?'' a voice came behind themselves.

 

Agmund turned around, looking at the forms of four Praetors coming into the training arena. It was the Sergeant Nicanor and three others walking in. Their helmets were scanning the place, taking in details.

 

Or searching for threats, Fenrik supposed. He gave a small smile. If they were looking for a fight he would give them one.

 

Agmund sniffed in the air. The Praetors had a scent of lapping oils and unguents about them. Along with a distinctive rocky smell. They smelled of chemical anointment that the Iron Priests sometimes used to maintain the Chapters' vehicles. Their armor was white trimmed in blue. Overall they had a very clean, tech-filled appearance. One of the Astartes was wearing an ancient Mark IV plate, the other a Mark VI. The other two wore Mark VII.

 

''Is there something funny?'' the one called Nicanor asked Fenrik.

 

''Nothing,'' The Wolf Guard shook his head. ''Just a private joke.''

 

''I've got a question of my own,'' Agmund said, eyes narrowing. ''Why are you here? In our arena?''

 

Nicanor shrugged, the servos in his power armor whining softly. ''Epistolary Heliocles had already taken care of the briefing with your commander. He told us to deploy and intermix with you.'' he explained.

 

Just like them, always following things to the letter. Fenrik thought. He knew the Praetors, robotic and inflexible as they were must be typical of the average Codex chapter.

 

''Why don't you take off your helm?'' Agmund said.

 

''Why?'' one of the other Praetors asked.

 

''Do you think you're too good for us Wolves in your parade armor?'' Agmund pressed, adding a bit of emphasis to the last bit. Fenrik himself was wondering the same thing himself.

 

''No, but I hardly see why it matters.'' Nicanor said. He removed the helmet seals and lifted it off his face, revealing his features for the first time.

 

Nicanor's skin was pale, as if he were someone who had spent a large time underground. His features were fairly typical of the Astartes broadness, with a knife-like nose and strong features. His dark hair was cut short and he had gray-blue eyes. He looked almost alien compared to features of the Wolves. The others removed their helmets. They all looked similar to one another to an extent. An affect of the geneseed, Fenrik supposed. It was Guilliman's features. The one with the Mark IV armor had blonde hair, while the Mark VI marine was bald.

 

''Are you satisfied?'' Nicanor said with a slight smile in his features. He cast his gray-blue eyes over to the arena below. ''Your new recruits?'' he asked.

 

''Aye Warriors of Fenris, warriors' born.'' Agmund said with relish, looking back down at his pack.

 

''We have some of our own on Dameia, but they are deployed elsewhere. My own squad was recently reenforced.'' Nicanor said.

 

''I believe they are under Saevius's command.'' the blonde Praetor added.

 

''That's right Lukias.'' Nicanor nodded.

 

Fenrik knew that the Ultramarines and their successors organized their initiates into Scouts. It always seemed strange to him to put your most inexperienced warriors in that kind of work, whereas the Wolves used hardened veterans for that knife-work. It was odd, but then again Fenrik supposed the entire way of Codex fighting was odd to the Wolves.

 

''Fenris, that sounds like it's an interesting world,'' the youngest of the Praetors said. ''I'm interested.'' the bald one glanced at him.

 

Fenrik opened his mouth and paused. How does one explain the burning summers and the ice winters of Fenris to an outsider. How does one explain the thrill of the hunt for Fenrisian elk and the difficulty of simply surviving?

 

He couldn't.

 

''I was born to the Northern Isles, clutching a axe since my birth-caul. I slew my first man at the age of five. I killed my first wolf at the age of ten. This one came at my entrance into the Chapter.'' Agmund pointed to the black maned pelt on his back. His blue eyes looked at Nicanor.

 

''What have you done by comparison?'' Agmund almost sneered.

 

Nicanor took the question differently then Fenrik expected. He looked almost thoughtful instead of angry.

 

''When I was a child,'' he began. ''I was placed in a collective with the other children of my district. We were drilled to be soldiers, warriors and workers since as far as I can remember. I was taught to fight from birth.'' Nicanor said, eyes lost in reminiscence.

 

''I learned to shoot a lagsun and handle a knife before I could walk. Food was rationed and we were expected to work at the forges, practice our weapons and conduct hunting patrols through the deepest caverns of Orpheus''

 

''For my initiation into the Chapter I was selected after the Chaplains held the traditional combat games in Orphic Primaris. Then I was expected to make it through the Labyrinth of the Deeps, through total darkness. I could barely see past my own arms in that place. Once there I was expected to avoid or kill any creatures there. Rock vipers who would kill a man with a single bite, Cave Bears as big as a Rhino and with claws three feet long. Blood sucking nightshrikes, rival initiates and more.''

 

''I succeeded, bringing back the broken carcass of a rock viper and presented it to my recruiting sergeant. It's skull is mounted somewhere on my Fortress-Monastery back on Orpheus.'' Nicanor recalled.

 

''Is that what you wanted?'' the Sergeant asked.

 

While Fenrik doubted that life on Orpheus was as dangerous or testing as his homeworld, he revised his opinion of the Praetors a bit. Obviously these Astartes knew business..

 

Agmund looked unimpressed. ''Really? You should show me your flint then.''

 

''Excuse me?''

 

''Fight one of my pups Praetor! They need the practice, or are you too scared?'' Agumund inquired, showing his fangs in a grin as he did so.

 

''A fight? I don't exactly understand what you need to prove-''

 

''I'll do it sir.'' the younger Praetor said.

 

''No, If he insists I'll do it.'' Nicanor shook is head.

 

''I don't think this is what Heliocles meant.'' Lukias deadpanned.

 

''Fenrisans brawl all the time. It's how your people earn respect? Isn't it?'' he asked Fenrik. Without waiting for an answer Nicanor turned at Lukias. ''If they want it then I shall oblige them if needed.''

 

''Excellent.'' Agmund chuckled. He looked back down for a Blood Claw.

 

''Einar! Enough! Prepare yourself pup! You face one of Guilliman's boys!'' Agmund's voice was loud, reverberating over the chamber. ''He shouldn't be too hard for you eh?''

 

''Those are your recruits? I am a veteran of over a century of service to my Chapter. It seems unfair.'' Nicanor noted.

 

''Einar will be enough.'' Agmund smirked.

 

**

 

Nicanor stood in the center of the former storage facility. In the past it had been used to store old relics and records. Since the Wolves had arrived they had turned it into a training ground for their Blood Claws until they were needed at the front lines. To the sides the Blood Claws had stopped their training, instead gathering to watch the fight. Behind him the Praetors observed.

 

Nicanor thought himself rather foolish for taking up this challenge. But then he remembered Heliocles's lectures. The Wolves were barbarians. They did not respect medals or honors. They cared only for strength and primal bravery. This was the only way to win their respect.

 

He was still clad in his power armor, as was his opponent. The Space Wolf had dirty blonde hair and a short, poorly trimmed beard and sideburns. The Wolf's hair was braided with iron rings. His foe's face was young, with only small fangs beginning to develop. His power armor was rather unadorned compared to the more ornate Wolf Guard war plate, but he had a a torc around his neck and a set of wolf tails hanging from one shoulder guard. He wore a dark gray wolf pelt over his war plate. He carried a deactivated chainblade in one hand.

 

''Hello.'' the Praetor said.

 

''I'm Einar, bondsman to Dragongaze, taker of heads, crusher of daemons.'' Einar grinned, cracking his neck from side to side. Both combatants were unarmed. Einar was pumped and ready to go.

 

Nicanor blinked. ''Good for you,'' he cocked his head. ''I am Nicanor.'' he said simply.

 

''Shall you show me what you're made of then, Praetor.'' Einar dropped into a fighting stance.

 

''You are that eager? Are their any rules that you have?''

 

''Anything goes save death.'' with that Einar launched him.

 

Nicanor brought up his own deactivated power sword to block the first strike. He ducked the swinging blow the Space Wolf sent him as the Blood Claw's features snarled with a bloodthirsty grin. Einar attacked with great gusto, launching a barrage of slashes and kicks that a normal human would have been hard pressed to follow. The Blood Claw's fighting style emphasized direct blows with little subtlety. A normal human would have been shredded in seconds, crushed the the sheer ferocity of the Wolf's blows or mowed down by the eye-blurring speeds Einar was going at.

 

Nicanor by contrast simply reacted.

 

His sword countered the chainblade strikes with the measured precision of a veteran. He fell not only into the sword-fighting forms of the Codex Astartes, but into the Orphic close-quarter style of pankration. No blow was wasted, nothing with any more force than it had to be. The Wolf was strong, he had to admit. Physically stronger than he was at any rate. But it wasn't strength that always decided battles.

 

Their blades locked as Einar shoved forward this time two-handed. Nicanor obligingly gave ground before sweeping the Wolf's legs under him. Einar hit the ground with a thud as Nicanor's sword knocked his chainblade out of his hand with a quick blow.

 

''Any more?'' Nicanor asked, deftly avoiding Einar attempts to kick his feet under him. The Blood Claw merely grinned and got back up with surprising speed despite his power armored bulk, launching himself at Nicanor.

 

If this had been a real battle Nicanor would have cut the Wolf in half with his energy-sheathed blade. However this was not a real battle and Nicanor hesitated in his blow, the blade merely skimming off the Wolf's pauldron instead.

 

Einar headbutted the Praetor back, sending Nicanor stumbling. The Blood Claw leapt in, trying to wrestle the sword away from Nicanor instead of reclaiming his own blade. For a moment the two Astartes struggled for the blade. Nicanor felt blood run down his forehead as his larraman cells clotted the blow that the Space Wolf had given him. Einar's breath, hot and rank, smelling of alcohol and meat, washed over him. The Space Wolf's features were twisted with joy. He was winning the control of the sword slowly.

 

So Nicanor let it go.

 

Caught off balance Einar stumbled, dropping his guard for a moment. He recovered quickly, but not quickly to escape Nicanor's left hook sending him spinning back. Einar spat out a fang before he took another two-handed blow to the face. Nicanor's blade fell out of his hands. The Praetor retrieved his blade, standing over the fallen Blood Claw. His superhuman muscles protested at the fierce workout that the Wolf had put him through, but he had won. His blade tip now hovered over the Wolf's throat. Einar opened his eyes.

 

''Do you yield?'' said Nicanor spitting out a tooth. Einar looked up and merely grunted an affirmative. Slowly, Nicanor drew the blade back and stepped back.

 

Einar got up, flexing his next back, inspecting his lost tooth. He began to chuckle. Nicanor looked at his strangle. The rest of Einar's pack started to laugh as well.

 

''What's so funny?'' he asked.

 

''I've never lost a tooth in a fight before,'' Einar snorted with mirth. ''And now some Ultramarine-''

 

''-Praetor of Orpheus.'' Nicanor corrected.

 

''-Whatever, knocks my tooth out? Classic stuff there.'' Einar inspected Nicanor's face.

 

''I got your nose.'' he smirked.

 

Indeed, Einar's headbutt had broken his nose. Almost absentmindedly Nicanor reset it. He had suffered far worse before.

 

Fenrik came alongside, slapping Nicanor's shoulder guard. ''Looks like you can brawl after all. Can you believe it Agmund?'' he asked. The other Wolf Guard looked like he had swallowed a sour grape.

 

''Still, if it was me, you would have lost.'' Fenrik grinned.

 

Nicanor considered the statement for a moment, then decided to err on the side of cation. He did not need another fight. ''I'm sure.''

 

''This deserves some ale, not the local kind but real stuff. We'll have your head spinning in no time.'' The Wolf Guard said.

 

Nicanor glanced at Lukias who was mouthing no.

 

''I'm afraid we don't drink ale.'' he said.

 

Fenrik stopped laughing and looked dubiously at Nicanor. ''Don't tell me you drink wine! That's a woman's-''

 

''-Engine oil.'' Nicanor interrupted.

 

''What?''

 

''We drink engine oil. It hardens the heart before battle,'' Nicanor said with a perfectly clam face. ''Maybe you would like to try some?''

 

Fenrik studied his features for a few seconds, trying to see if Nicanor was joking.

 

Behind them a Blood Claw turned to Daecus.

 

''Do you really drink oil?''

 

Daecus raised an eyebrow.

 

''Well what do you think?''

[astartes88]

I like it, some real potential with this one. I like how you captured both chapter's personalities and had a bit of a fight between the two. classic with the engine oil hahaha

[Skirax]

Great story, yes you did manage to capture the Wolves well (I thank you for your comment :unsure:)

[Darkchild130]

nice story, i like the differences between chapters especially.

 

Darkchild

[Ufthak]

:D I LOVE IT!!!!!

 

Great story, really! I think you hit the Wolves SPOT-ON, that's EXACTLY how I imagine them to be! :)

 

And I really liked the part with the ale and the engine oil ;)

 

Great stuff as usual, can't decide which story is the best, but if forced to I'd say this one ;)

 

Also: only a couple of mistakes, very good you paid attention to that!

 

All in all: BRILLIANT!!!

Keep it up!

[Shadow Nugz]

Very good description. I can almost imagine myself being there. Nice comic twist at the end. So I have to say 1 thing concerning this... and you may not like it.

 

 

MOAR!!!!

[Gree]

Thanks everyone. I am working on part two of Wolves as we speak. It was definetly a joy to write the Wolves for me. They are such an interesting contrast to the Praetors.

[Gree]

Wolves Part 2

 

 

Jorin Stormhammer looked over the tactical readouts before him. The Veneratus boasted a conference room of it's own, originally used for the shrine's keepers, it had been modified by Krom Dragongaze's Iron Priests to provide a place were the Wolf Lord and his pack leaders could oversee the tactical situation on Dameia.

 

Across him was the Praetors Librarian, Heliocles, with two of his honor guard. The Librarian's features were coolly composed, but with a somewhat smug, fey quality that irritated Jorin a bit. But he really had nothing to dislike the Librarian for. Of course he was a psyker, and Jorin knew full well the dangers of psykers. He himself much preferred dealing with his own Chapter's Rune Priests. There was something more reassuring dealing with the sons of the storm than this one.

 

''Is this true?'' he said to the thrall next to him. The bondsman had come in with news from Hjalmar's Grey Hunter pack, and it was not good.

 

''Of course my lord,'' the thrall said. ''Hjalmar has confirmed his position himself.'' he reported.

 

Jorin looked back on the data-set. The position of Hjalmar's pack was located over forty clicks from the closest Imperial lines. All across Dameia hundreds of thousands of settlers from the minor ash waste towns were begin evacuated into the main shrine-cities. Entire Imperial Guard regiments had been fighting a running battle with the advance Tyranid swarms.

 

''Your men are stranded I guess?'' asked Heliocles.

 

Jorin looked up at him. ''Did the wyrd tell you that?''

 

''No, not really,'' Heliocles shrugged. ''It was a guess, nothing more.'' he looked at the data again.

 

''Their Thunderhawk was shot down after they finished engaging one of the Kraken-swarms,'' Jorin noted. ''Dagur is there, along with Hjalmar. Without him our forces cannot extract our geneseed''

 

''Your Wolf Priest I presume?'' asked Heliocles. ''So you are going to depart soon, of course?'' he said.

 

''Of course, I'm not some old barmaid,'' Jorin snapped. He turned to the thrall. ''Prepare Jotun Six and my Land Raider, have my Grey Hunters plus Agmund's pack to come along, Fenrik will stay behind and hold the base.'' Jorin explained.

 

''You seem to have a problem.'' Heliocles noted.

 

''Damned right I do, or were you not-''

 

''No I mean your support, if the tactical data here is correct, the Tyranids are closing in fast.'' Heliocles said.

 

''And what about it? We've faced worst.'' Jorin responded.

 

''Then we are coming along, we have a Thunderhawk of our own, you have only one present at this base, the rest are with your Great Company in the field or in ships.'' the Librarian explained.

 

Jorin looked at him suspiciously. ''Why?'' he asked.

 

''You are our allies are you not? Our gene-fathers helped liberate this world. I was originally sent in to cooperate with you, this seems a good time as any.'' Heliocles explained.

 

Jorin looked at him for a few moments, before turning to the thrall.

 

''Belay that last order, Have Fenrik's group meet the Praetors.''

 

**

 

 

Nicanor put on his helmet again as the Eagle's Wing hurled through the air. A familiar display of tactical readouts and targeting systems appeared. One by one the life runes of his squad showed up, each linked to Second Squad's heart rate and current metabolism. He activated his bolter link and lined it up for a moment, testing it.

 

Once that was done he gave a quick prayer of thanks to the machine spirit before looking about. The rest of his squad was doing the same thing, preparing their armor and weapons. Lukias sheathed his combat blade by his side as Ceranus checked the action on his scoped bolter one last time. Apion hefted his flamer again, flexing his freshly healed arm. Rhesus finished checking the ammo feed on his heavy bolter before setting it across his lap.

 

The Blood Claws of Fenrik's pack by contrast were conversing themselves in Fenrisian. From their tone Nicanor assumed they were joking. Even so they were checking and readying their weapons in a practiced manner. They carried bolt pistols and chainblades instead of the standard bolter of the Praetors' tactical squads. Nicanor knew the Blood Claws were the new recruits of the Wolves, but it astounded him to see such inexperienced warriors armed for the bloodiest duties. In the Praetors of Orpheus initiates were expected to hone their skills in a squad in the Scouts before earning power armor. The whole manner of the Wolves smacked out of arrogance and recklessness.

 

The Blood Claws had a variety of wolf talismans and rune markings on their armor. Some had wolf pelts draped across their armor. Others had collections of wolf tails and skulls. All had their helmets off, exposing scarred, weatherbeaten young faces, eager for the conflicts ahead. Nicanor caught the appearance of fangs briefly. Beside him, Fenrik moved up. He had a ornate power axe with the image of a silver wolf carved into the haft. He had a wolf-headed helm at his side, an ornate piece that was obviously handcrafted by some great Fenrisian artificer. He looked Nicanor over.

 

''Is this how you prepare?'' he asked, this time in Low Gothic.

 

''Yes you ignoramus, this is how we prepare.'' Heron privately voxed over the squad net. Nicanor ignored him and activated his external address.

 

''We have already completed our weapons and armor checks. Next comes the Rites of Battle. I will lead since our Chaplain is not here,'' Nicanor said. He coked his head at Fenrik. ''Your warriors wear no helms?'' he asked. Indeed, all the Fenrisians had their helms at their sides.

 

''Aye, It's too stuffy.'' Fenrik nodded.

 

''Stuffy?'' Daecus asked.

 

''We need to smell the blood of our enemies, feel the wind on our face and taste victory. You can't do that sealed up,'' Fenrik suggested. ''It's the Fenrisian way.''

 

''I see'' Nicanor remarked. He thought it made little sense to wear power armor and then expose the most important organ in your body to enemy fire. He saw little reason not to put on the helm. The helmet provided an extensive suite of auto-senses, targeters and a vox system. Even if the Wolves really did posses enhanced sense, the benefits of helmets vastly outweighed the supposed downsides.

 

''Why do you ask about it?'' Fenrik asked dubiously.

 

''Nothing,we must complete my preparations and complete the Lament of the First.'' Nicanor replied.

 

''And that is?'' Fenrik raised an eyebrow.

 

''Understand this Space Wolf, we hate the Tyranids. We hate them more than any other xenos. They invaded Ultramar, the cradle of our Founding Legion and the place were our Primarch sits.'' he leaned in, eye lenses gleaming.

 

''What do you Fenrisians call it......a blood-foe?'' he asked.

 

''True,'' Fenrik nodded. '' We have our own blood-foes, the warlocks of Magnus-''

 

''-And they threatened your homeworld one correct?'' Lukias asked. Nicanor glanced at him. ''What? I am a student of the old files in the Librarium.'' his second in command said.

 

''Yes, and then Bjorn, mighty be his name-''

 

''-Me?'' a Blood Claws called from the rear of the Thunderhawk.

 

''No you pup, pipe down,'' Fenrik called back. He turned back to Nicanor. ''His name is Bjorn too.''

 

''I'm guessing that's a popular name on Fenris?'' Protus said dryly.

 

''Oh you have no idea. Anyway what was the Lament?'' Fenrik asked.

 

'' Every year at the Labyrinth we celebrate the sacrifice of the Ultramarines First, who sold their lives to protect my Primarch who slumbers on Macragge. That is the kind of thing we will avenge down there.'' Nicanor said.

 

''That is why we hate.''

 

**

 

The twin Thunderhawks, Jotun Six and Eagle's Wing, roared ahead. Below them in the middle of a rocky ash waste, was Hjalmar's team of Grey Hunters, clustered around the wreck of a Thunderhawk. All around them hundreds of Tyranids swarmed through the dust storms. Reddish peaks of rock rose from the tan sands all around them.

 

Below the Wolves were mere gray specks.

 

The Tyranids blended into their surroundings well. They were red of carapace and tan of flesh. The Tyranid horde was a mass of chitin, fangs and claws. Swarms of scuttling Gaunts moved under the footsteps of a trio of monstrous beasts. Other weapon beasts and towering Tyranid warriors charged through the ash waste, kicking up thick palls of dust. Bolters fired at extreme range as Hjalmar's Grey Hunters took their mark. Gaunts exploded as the Tyranids moved in. Hissing streams of bio-plasma and flesh-borers arced into the broken ceramite of the Thunderhawk but the Wolves merely hunkered down and continued their fire. However they were barely slowing the Tyranid horde.

 

Overhead the Thunderhawks opened fire. Hellstrikes misses arced below, landing among the Tyranid horde. Entire clumps of Gaunts were blown to pieces, bits of chitin rained down on the monstrous horde. Heavy bolters chattered down as the Thunderhawks made a pass. Then, coming around again, the gray and white Thunderhawks launched a second pass. This time nose mounted cannons sent high-explosive shells into the midst of the Tyranid horde. A pair of Carnifexes were torn apart in a volley of shells, along with countless more xenos. Meanwhile the Thunderhawks disengaged what was left of their hellstrike payloads right into the devastated Tyranids.

 

The two Thunderhawks engaged their hover modes, settling down while their ramps opened. Below groups of Gaunts wandered through the thick smoke. Dozens exploded from the Grey Hunters' bolters as the Wolves sought to provide their brothers with covering fire. Hovering barely a dozen meters off the ground, the landing ramps dropped as the Blood Claws leapt down. A normal human would have been severely injured or killed by the fall, but the superhuman Astartes in the power armor barely stumbled as they came in, bolt pistols coughing.

 

''Here we are,'' Heliocles said. Behind him was Nicanor's squad. Lukias, Protus, Daecus, Apion Morovian, Heron, Rhesus, Ceranus, Verties and finally Nicanor himself.

 

''Good decision letting the Wolves go in and clear the path.'' Ceranus remarked.

 

''Jealous?'' Protus asked slyly.

 

''You wish.'' Ceranus snorted.

 

''Quiet, we have Tyranids to kill.'' Lukias reminded them.

 

''Now.'' Heliocles commanded.

 

The Astartes leapt down, their stabilized power armor easily absorbing the impact as dust filled the air briefly from their impact. All around them the shapes of Fenrik's Blood Claws were obscured by a tide of red and tan as they tore into the Kraken. Agmund and Jorin's packs were moving right towards Hjalmar's group as a swarm of Tyranids detached itself from the readily splintering horde and went straight for the stranded Grey Hunters, at their head was a particularly massive beast. Another came to flank the Blood Claws of Fenrik

 

The Praetors moved in with ruthless precision. Rhesus's heavy bolter mowed down scores of Gaunts while disciplined bolter fire from the squad cut down Tyranids like a farmer reaped wheat. Apion's flamer hissed out, sending gouts of flame. Heliocles's eyes flickered with warpfire as he pointed his halberd out. Vast plumes of coruscating warpfire lanced out into the greatest concentration of the Tyranids.

 

Nicanor felt elated. He grinned underneath his helm. He was killing the hated Tyranid, and nothing felt sweeter. It was like some sort of drug was pumping into his system. Each shot that connected with a snarling xenos face was a measure of revenge for those lost on Macragge. He had never killed Tyranids before, none of his squad had. However they had all experienced combat simulation in the Librarium's sensorium and had been fully briefed in Tyranid combat stratagems and their swarm tactics. He smelled the stink of xenos flesh and ichor even through his helmet filters.

 

Flesh-boring beetles landed on the Astartes's armor, trying to find a way to breach them. Nicanor tore them off with powerful tugs of his gauntlets, while Heliocles burned them off with his own mindfire. Tyranid weaponry was evidently not made with Astartes body armor in mind.

 

They were doing well, Nicanor could see. The Wolves hit the Tyranids swarms like a Fenrisian axe, ripping deep and slaying scores in a bloodthirsty charge. The Praetors by contrast were like a finely honed scalpel, clinically taking apart the forces of the Kraken. The flanking force they were engaging was a mixed group of hormagaunts and termagants, led by a towering Tyranid warrior who leapt with terrifying speed towards the Praetors, its wickedly sharp claws extended.

 

Heliocles spoke a word of power and a line of blue warpfire leapt up into existence. The Tyranid swarm, already thinned by the Praetors guns, were engulfed into it as they charged. Fresh volleys of bolter fire cut them all down. Ceranus himself claimed the leader with a single finely placed bolter shot to the head.

 

With another word the flames disappeared at Heliocles behest. ''Divide into two groups, Nicanor move in to flank the Tyranids.'' Heliocles said, turning around.

 

''Where are you going?'' Nicanor asked.

 

''To kill something.'' the Librarian said, before running off.

 

Nicanor was uneasy about leaving his charge, but the Librarian's orders could not be ignored. Like all good Astartes, Nicanor obeyed his superior's orders. Turning around he issued a series of clipped orders to his squad.

 

Rhesus, Heron, Velties, Daecus and Ceranus were to stay behind and offer fire support. Normally Lukias would command the fire support squad, but Nicanor wanted his knife fighting skills alongside him. Besides, Nicanor trusted Heron to command the group., The young Praetor was already showing good leadership skills. The rest of the Praetors advanced under the cover of Apion's flamer, ready to engage the Tyranids in the flank and aid Fenrik's group. It was fairly standard Codex Astartes doctrine, one that Nicanor and his squad had been well drilled in before.

 

Apion's flamer roasted a group of hormagaunts as they leapt towards Nicanor's squad. Three xenos exploded from well aimed shots by Nicanor. A hulking Tyranid warrior collapsed to the ground, snarling before the bolter round in its cranium detonated, courtesy of Lukias.

 

''Blades now.'' Nicanor ordered, drawing his power sword. It leapt to life in blue fire and he sliced apart a shrieking hormagaunt with a single blow. Another died at point blank range from his bolter, and two more were gutted.

 

Slicing talons dug gouges in his armor as hormagaunts swarmed about. Nearby Morovian stumbled as a claw tore into his knee. He clubbed the offender over the head, crushing the Tyranid's skull. Protus moved like quicksilver, his combat blade flashing. Lukias was like an artist at work, every knife strike and thrust carefully measured and conducted, seeking out carapace joints and throats.

 

Above Nicanor spotted a hulking Tyranid warrior fight a Blood Claw, the Space Wolf howled as he whipped forward, his armor slick with Tyranid ichor. The xenos wielded a pair of shimmering bone swords embedded in it's forearms. Casually it removed the Blood Claw's sword arm at the wrist before beheading the Wolf.

 

Two more Tyranid warriors followed it as it crashed into Nicanor's combat squad.

 

Lukias confronted one, his knife carving a pair of deep wounds from shoulder to hip. A scything talon whipped past his own defenses to tear through his armpit and down into his chest a pair of claws ripped through his gut before Lukias headbutted the Tyranid and shot it point blank. Protus and Morovian fought a four-clawed Warrior. Protus's body whipped around as he carved deep wounds into the Warrior, removing two limbs. However he left an opening as one diamond-hard claw ripped through his breastplate and ribcage. Morovian promptly throttled the Tyranid and tore its head off with his bare hands.

 

Nicanor gutted two more hormagaunts as his brought up his blade to counter a slashing bonesword that came twords him. His gauntlet servos whirred as he countered the blow. His eyes widened, this beast was strong, stronger than any Astartes he had sparred with. The other bonesword flashed but he was able to twist out of the way, seeing the blow coming before it landed. The xenos warrior's claws tore at his side, ripping through the ceramite with ease and gouging the flesh underneath.

 

The Tyranid warrior drove him back in a storm of flashing blades and claws. Its eyes were empty black pits, like a beast's. They were soulless eyes and they spurred Nicanor on with hatred.

 

From behind came a howl and a blazing axe removed the right blade-limb of the Tyranid warrior. The Tyranid snarled about, only to have an axe imbedded in its huge chest, ichor stained the blade as Fenrik tried to wrench his axe free.

 

Nicanor took advantage of the beast's distraction to bring his power blade around, decapitating the Tyranid warrior with one blow, the power field tearing through the neck with ease. The Tyranid dropped to the ground, head rolling about as the Tyranids around them shrieked and roared, fleeing as they did so. The Blood Claws snarled and leapt into their foes, running down as many of they could. Nearby the Praetors moved in, cutting down countless more with disciplined fire.

 

Nicanor looked at Fenrik. The warrior's face was covered in xenos ichor and his blonde hair was filthy and matted, but he had a wide grin.

 

''Warriors true eh, Praetor? Where that witch of yours'' he asked.

 

Nicanor was about to tell him never to refer to Heliocles in such a way again, before a xenos scream sounded behind them.

 

**

 

Jorin Stormhammer roared as he brought his thunder hammer down, crushing another of the termagants. All around him his own Grey Hunters and Hjalmar's pack were fending off a horde of xenos. Before Jorin's pack had came in and cut down most of the flanking swarm with their bolters. However the hulking leader beast that Imperial strategists had identified as a Terivigon vomited another clutch of termagants from it's womb, then another, and another until the Grey Hunters were swamped.

 

His hammer fell again and again while claws and talons rebounded off his Terminator armor and storm shield. He snarled. Unless they could kill the hulking beast in front of him and hack through the horde they could not win. Jorin had gotten close to the massive, shell-backed monster and landed several blows with his thunder hammer, but none of them were fatal and he was inevitably force back by a tide of termagants. The rest of his pack was similarly swamped.

 

Then a column of blue fire lanced through the air, roasting termagant after termagant. The Terivgon roared as Librarian Heliocles of the Praetors of Orpheus came running in, flames billowing out from his hands.

 

''Sons of Russ!'' He shouted.

 

Jorin had never been so glad to see the the witch of Guilliman, as soon as the flames ended he charged forward through the smoldering corpses of the termagants. His thunder hammer tore another massive wound on the monster's side, ripping off a limb. The Tyranid monster roared and smashed it's frontal limbs against the Wolf Guard's storm shield. The force field in the thing sparked briefly as his Terminator armor whined in protest as he matched it against the unnatural strength of the beast.

 

Then another funnel of blue fire came in separating the Wolf Guard and the Tyranid. The shell-backed beast was engulfed in blue fire, tearing into the wounds that Jorin had inflicted earlier and annihilating it's womb. Hissing and flaming the beast charged at the Epistolary. But Heliocles leapt to the side and rammed his halberd blade two handed through the beast's throat, through an earlier wound inflicted by Jorin. A powerful burst of warp energy filled the beast, scything through it's nervous system, annihilating it beyond even the Hive Mind's control.

 

Heliocles withdrew his blade as the flaming carcass of the beast collapsed. Now it was no more than an burned shell. With a howl Jorin brought his thunder hammer down, crushing the beast's skull, ending it one and for all. All around them the Tyranids howled and hissed before breaking off and losing all cohesion. The Grey Hunters answered with a howl of their own, driving forward with chainblades, fists and fangs, eager to exploit a weakness.

 

More blue flames burned termagants to death ad Jorin gazed as the form of Heliocles. The Librarian glanced at him briefly.

 

''Thanks.'' the Wolf Guard rumbled, before charging off again.

 

**

 

 

In the end, with the deaths of the Tyranid leader-beasts, the xenos horde was broken. The Grey Hunters were able to be extracted successfully to the Thunderhawks along with the rest of the Wolves and the Praetors. The Blood Claws would only stop their pursuit at the orders to Jorin himself, backed up by Fenrik and Agmund cuffing a few heads.

 

Six Wolves were slain in the battle, mostly Blood Claws, and seven more would slip into the Red Dream. All of their bodies had been retrieved from the battlefield and their wounds treated by the Wolf Priest.

 

As for the Praetors.....

 

''Is he going to be fine?'' asked Nicanor to Dagur. The Sergeant's own wounds had been sealed up by himself. They were minor enough.

 

None of the Praetors had been slain, thanks to their conservative tactics. But Lukias, Morovian and Protus had all taken severe wounds, almost enough to kill them. Dagur himself tended to them after he had finished with the Wolves, mending their wounds with his balms. All three were stripped of their armor and lying in the Thunderhawk's storage bays.

 

Agmund had protested that a Fenrisian Priest tending to the wounds of the Praetors, but Jorin overruled him. The Praetors had proved themselves as worthy allies in the field of battle and they would not have been able to win without them.

 

''Good, you Orpheans are tough bastards,'' Dagur noted. ''They should recover quickly.'' his fearsome wolf skull mask was off, exposing his heavily lined features and white hair.

 

''You have the thanks of the Praetors.'' Nicanor nodded. As much as he appreciated the Wolf's help, he much rather preferred for a Praetors Apothecary to look over his brothers.

 

''Nicanor,'' a voice said from behind him. The Praetor looked around. It was Fenrik.

 

''Yes?'' he asked.

 

''I have a present.'' the Wolf Guard announced, dropping an object at Nicanor's feet. He picked it up. It was a black claw, severed from some sort of Tyranid beast. Nicanor looked up.

 

''A present?''

 

''A trophy. We are a proud lot, but we recognize allies when we see it, consider this our thanks. After all, we had no engine oil.'' Fenrik grinned.

 

Nicanor held up the claw.

 

''Nice'' Apion nodded.

[Ufthak]

Really, all I can say is: as brilliant as usual!!!

 

You manage to portray the Wolves perfectly B)

 

No mistakes, fluidly written, entertaining and just plain great! -_- LOVE IT!

 

Keep it up man, your stuff is top class!

[Skirax]

Very good, and I actually :) ed at the part with the Blood Claw Bjorn ;) Great as always, more now!

[Gree]

Thanks guys for the comments. The next PRaetors peice will have them with the Sisters against the Tyranids on the same planet. However that will not appear for a bit as I am writing up a short story for this board for a different Astartes legion.

[Sons of Erebor]

This stuff is great. Im thinking of making a Praetors of Orpheus army actually, and seeing as there is next to no fluff, this is a great help, keep it coming!

[Reyner]

Excellent stuff so far! The masses demand more! :P

[Gree]

Here it is, another short story entry. This one shifts interest to the Sisters of Battle during the battle for Dameia.

 

Reviews and comments are welcomed.

 

Faith

 

I am Varion Nicanor.

 

Son of Orpheus, Inheritor of Guilliman

 

The Third and Sixth Companies rest in Dalium with the Space Wolves. The days of harrying the Tyranid vanguard swarms are over. Now the xenos assault the capital of Dameia itself in all their twisted horror and strength.

 

Lord Emperor…………..the sheer amount of Tyranids still surprises me. Mountains of corpses are piled in front of the defensive lines. But it’s not enough. The Tyranids force themselves through at a great cost.

 

For the first two weeks the Tyranids flounder after their initial gains into the outer reaches of Dalium. We Praetors are at the front lines, fighting alongside the mechanized brigades of the Imperial Guard and the Space Wolves themselves. I’ve long since lost count of the amount of Tyranids I’ve killed. Atreus plans each of his ambushes and surgical strikes with masterful precision. Dozens of synapse creatures, spawning pools and Tyranid bio-beasts are destroyed by the Third and Sixth.

 

It seems our efforts are working. Along with the Sisters, the Wolves and the Guard we have greatly reduced the Tyranid numbers and even begun to push the xenos back. Captain Atreus returns to us with plans of a combined assault. All branches of the Imperial military are planning a huge counteroffensive. The aim of this urban assault is simple. Strike through the former Temple districts and through the heart of the Tyranid swarms and chase them back into the ash wastes. The Third Company is given the honor of spearheading this assault.

 

However my squad has another task.

 

***

 

Sister Vica fired her bolter at the hissing xenos. The three-round burst tore apart two leaping Hormagaunts as they rounded the corner. Next to her Sister Mei opened fire with her flamer, bathing the bounding aliens with promethium.

 

She looked about. Scores of Tyranid corpses covered the outer sanctum of the Minisotrum building her and her Sisters had taken cover in. She and the rest of her squad was part of a Commandery of the Order of the Sacred Rose sent into Dalium City’s western districts to secure the main Temples there. It had been a week since the Tyranids had breached the capital city of Dameia. Uncounted hordes had come over the horizons.

 

At first they were beaten back by the city’s defenses. But gradually the Tyranids came in over a mountain of their own corpses. Specially bred siege beasts tore apart the outer walls and disgorged horded of assault troops. As they came in the outer districts erupted into bloody fighting. So far contact with the rest of her order had been lost and the PDF network was a total mess. Her squad was now down to half strength, Sister Superior Galatea herself was slain early on by a fleshborer round through her gorget. Only Sisters Mei, Priscilla, Leeta, Mara and Sara remained with her.

 

Her death had been agonizing, with beetles crawling through her throat and lungs. Mei put her out of her misery by flaming her body before the accused xenos were able to defile it further. Vica’s squad now stood at half strength.

 

‘’Is there no end in sight?’’ asked Priscilla. Like the rest of her Sisters she wore gunmetal steel power armor, with blue and white surplices over that. The woman was the oldest of the squad, with bits of grey already running around her temples.

 

Vica looked out. In the skies the forms of winged Tyranid beasts could be seen dueling with Imperial Thunderbolts and interceptor craft under the Hive’s Void Shields. Dalium was about to break under the Tyranid assault This was her third combat mission. She herself was only freshly graduated from the Schola Progenium. She had fought against chaos twisted rebels before but these Tyranids…………………it was shocking just how many there were. She feared that her squad would run out of ammunition before the Tyranids ran out of bodies.

 

Vica checked her vox-link again. ‘’The rest of the Commandery is not answering,’’ she said softly. ‘’That means they are either dead or cut off from our position.’’ he summarized.

 

‘’What do we do now?’’ asked Sister Mei, a small, almond-eyed woman with a votive flamer.

 

‘’We stay and fight, this is the God-Emperor’s holy ground’.’ Pricilla said.

 

‘’What about the rest of our Sisters then?’’ replied Sister Mara.

 

They all went quiet. On one hand they had orders to defend the Temple, however the place was half-ruined already, and no Sister would abandon her comrades if they could help it. Vica looked up at a massive gold statue of the God-Emperor before her.

 

What should I do? She asked herself mentally.

 

The statue’s empty eyes bored into her, as if searching her soul.

 

‘’Sister Vica,’’ Mei began. Alien hisses sounded as the Tyranids began a fresh assault. ‘’They come again!’’ she pointed.

 

Seventy meters out at the end of the colonnaded hallways on the other side of the courtyard, the shapes of more Tyranids began to emerge. Bolter fire answered them as they leapt out into the Sisters pre-planned kill-zone. There were dozens upon dozens of the Tyranids leaping over the corpses of their brethren, bounding towards the Sisters. The bolters ran dry as the Tyranids surged forward, a pair of hulking alien beasts leading them.

 

Vica uttered a quick prayer as she coolly reloaded her weapon and trained it on the leader beast. The bolter kicked in her gauntlets briefly. Then the skull of the leader beast exploded in chips of alien ichor and bone. The corpse of the beast fell as two more leader-beasts took its place. Sister Mei added her flamer to her Sister’s bolter volley. Hissing promethium incinerated the first leaping aliens as they rapidly closed over the devotional pews and shrines. Xenos forms writhed and blackened into ash.

 

They were closing, Vica realized. There was simply far too many xenos for the Sororitas to gun down and expect to survive the close quarter combat that would surely follow. They simply lacked the time and ammunition.

 

Then something happened.

 

A nearby mosaic simply exploded, as if a massive battered ram struck it. Chips of plaster flew from the wall along with jeweled shards as a massive shadow appeared. Rays of light peeked around the being’s form as it stepped out into the outer temple. More promethium hissed from the warrior’s flamer as the Tyranids were abruptly caught in a crossfire. Several more shapes came through the wall as more giant figures appeared, sending volleys of bolter fire into the Tyranids.

 

Under this new threat the xenos horde simply withered away.

 

Gaunt after gaunt was simply blown into bloodied scraps by bolter rounds or incinerated by waves of blessed promethium. Vica saw one of the tall elite-warriors be flamed repeatedly before being blown in half by a bolter burst.

 

In seconds the Tyranids were gone.

 

Vica glanced briefly at the forms. They were Astartes, she realized. She recognized the distinctive model of their power armor, similar yet different than the war plate that the Sororitas wore. Larger and filled with more advanced systems. The armor the warrior wore was pure white with blue trim. On one shoulder guard was the image of a starburst shield. Purity seals flapped briefly from his vambraces as the Astartes turned its archaic helm ever slow slowly to gaze at her.

 

Vica herself had never actually seen a member of the Emperor’s Angels herself. She knew of them certainly, and she had researched actions in which the Sacred Rose had fought alongside the Adeptus Astartes before. It had been a mixed history, with some being noble allies and the some simply being barbarians. She knew of the Praetors of Orpheus of course. She had heard rumors about their connections to the Mechanicus. But she had also heard of their near-flawless service in the name of the God-Emperor. Compared to the Space Wolves, a Chapter which was at odds with the Ecclesiarchry, it was clear the Sisters preferred the Praetors.

 

Then he spoke.

 

‘’I am Lukias of the Praetors,’’ he cocked his helmet slightly at one angle. ‘’These are my brothers, Apion, Rhesus, Heron and Protus.’’

 

‘’Who are you Sister?’’

 

***

 

Her name was Vica, Lukias learned, and her comrades were all that was left of the Sororitas force in this sector. He had already studied the combat briefings before his squad had been deployed into this area of course, but he had not expected to encounter the Sororitas already. He had thought they had already pulled out.

 

‘’We are rendezvousing with the rest of our squad’’ he said to Vica, his vox-distorted voice deep.

 

He himself was leading a Combat Squad of Apion, Heron, Rhesus, Protus and himself to take point and clear out any xenos in the outer limits of the Temple itself. Nicanor considered it good practice for the newer members of his squad to blood themselves further. Apion had been brought along for the flaming duties.

 

‘’But why here of all places?’’ asked Vica.

 

‘’Our Captain sent us on a mission into this area. We thought the Sororitas were deployed in far greater numbers. What happened?’ Lukias asked.

 

Vica glanced briefing another Sororitas. Revealing your own personal failures in front of an outsider was not something they were used to, in the chapel in front of the God-Emperor yes, but not in front of outsiders.

 

It was a curious Sororitas custom Lukias knew, but he was patient.

 

‘’The Prioress was in defense of this table and central communications where lost.’’ Mei said eventually. ‘’The rest of our Commandery lost cohesion in the temple. We retreated to this place and prepared to make a stand.’’

 

‘’I see,’’ Lukias was silent for a few moments. ‘’The rest of your order and my chapter are beginning a counterattack only a few kilometers away from here. We were sent to secure their flank. I would suggest you come along with us then.’’ he offered.

 

Lukias watched as the Sisters turned to each other for a few moments. They exchanged no words. But there was some kind of deliberation taking place. Eventually their apparent leader, Vica, spoke.

 

‘’We will come with you.’’

 

***

 

Vica followed the Praetor called Lukias as he led her into the inner chapel of the Emperor. The Praetors moved smoothly and efficiently, with the kind of military precision she had seen only among the elite Celestians of her order. Of course what remained of her unit formed up as well, with her taking the point of the squad leader. The loss of Galatea had hit them hard but they remained strong. Surprisingly Vica saw that the rest of her sisters were unconsciously following her.

 

She didn’t know whether to be pleased or nervous.

 

Lukias held up a hand and everyone stopped. There was a faint click as the Astartes engaged some kind of internal vox system. After a few moments he nodded and they continued on. Rapidly Vica realized he was probably talking to the rest of his squad. Her suspicions were proven correct as they come into the central Chapel. Vica had been here a few times. The somber stone walls of the outer temple gave way to the gilded furnishings of the inner Temple. Tapestries and stained glass windows proclaiming the Emperor’s might covered the walls. On each corner of the chapel was a statue of an Imperial Saint.

 

In the center of the Church was a raised pedestal with the Altar. Here the Priest would conduct his sermons on the nature of the God-Emperor to the people of Dameia and care for his flock. Above the altar was a giant statue of the Praetors’ primarch. Roboute Guilliman. He held a sword raised high in the air with a double-headed eagle perched on his other upraised arm. A halo surrounded his head. Vica was educated enough on religious manners to know that each world interpreted the Imperial Cult differently. Worship on some worlds would be different than worship on Ophelia VII or Terra. Regrettably not all Imperial churches could be brought up to the Sisters standards, the Galaxy was simply far too big for that. The Dameians reverence of the savior Primarchs of the old was quaint but not uncommon among worlds liberated during the great Crusade.

 

From the sides more blue and white armored figures came. More Astartes. More Praetors. She spotted a warrior with a red-marked helmet step out from near the Altar. An ornate power sword was sheathed at his side.

 

‘’Good of you to return Lukias.’’ the lead figure said. He nodded briefly to the Sister before taking his helm off. His features were strangely broad, in an inhuman sort of way. Vica had heard of the gigantism that the Astartes had, but she had never seen it up close.

 

He was human, almost handsome she realized. But any male beauty was ruined by a subtle sense of inhumanity and power about him. She knew the Astartes were no longer really human of course but to see it with her own eyes was shocking.

 

They were not mutants of course, Vica knew that well from her sermon briefings. They were warriors descended from the God-Emperor himself and the Sacred Rose’s history was littered with proud examples of the Sacred Rose fighting alongside them. But Vica could not shake off that strange feeling of awe and dread at the back of her mind.

 

‘’I am Nicanor, commander of the Second Squad, Third Company,’’ he nodded. ‘’This is Ceranus,’’ he gestured to an Astartes with a bionic arm. ‘’And Morovian, Daecus and Verties.’’ he swept his arm over the rest of his squad emerging from the pews.

 

He looked over the Sororitas ‘’You are Sacred Rose correct?’’ he asked.

 

‘’That’s right,’’ Mei answered. ‘’I am Mei,’’ she said. ‘’These are Sisters Sarah, Vica, Mara Europa and Aria.’’ Nicanor looked around at them, his eyes flickering briefly.

 

‘’Where is your Sister Superior?’’ he asked. But he already knew the answer.

 

‘’Dead.’’ Mara said simply.

 

‘I see, I commend her soul to the Emperor.’’ Nicanor nodded.

 

‘’Yes, a tragic loss Brother-Sergeant, but should we not move on soon?’’ a new voice joined the conversation. Vica looked around to see a giant figure emerge from the shadows. At first she began to wonder how such a large Astartes could hide so well when she noticed the blue armor and book device of the Astartes.

 

A Librarian!

 

The Librarian emerged, a figure clad in deep blue power armor. One shoulder pad and arm was painted white with the starburst shield symbol. The other shoulder guard bore a horned book. The Librarian’s head was shaved bald and lined. His eyes flickered in an amused fashion. He carried an ornate force halberd.

 

‘’You would bring a witch here?’’ Mei said in alarm, starting to bring up her weapon. Vica had heard that some Astartes chapters employed such mutants in their ranks but she had never expected to encounter on herself.

 

Like all Sororitas she was taught to revile and guard against the psyker and the witch. Occasionally the Sisters had to fight alongside allies with psychic powers, but that didn’t change the natural revulsion all Sisters felt towards psykers. Vica knew they were a necessary evil, but fighting alongside one made her stomach churn with disgust.

 

‘’Brother-Epistolary Heliocles is an honored warrior of the Chapter!’’ The Praetor named Ceranus stood up. ‘’You will address him with respect Sororitas!’’

 

‘’Please everyone,’’ Nicanor interrupted before anything could continue more. ‘’We are all allies here with a mission’’.

 

Vica herself was wondering what exactly that mission was. Although she was rather taken aback by the appearance of the psyker she recovered herself. A confrontation was not needed at the moment. ‘’Your brother mentioned something about securing a flank.’’ she said.

 

‘’Indeed,’’ Nicanor said. ‘’The honored Brother-Epistolary here’’ Nicanor indicated Heliocles ‘’Was able to detect the presence of a powerful xenos synapse creature leading the swarm.’’ he said.

 

‘’You would base your battle plans on sorcery?’’ asked Mei incredulously.

 

‘’Now ,now I wouldn’t quite call it that,’’ The Librarian said. ‘’More like sensing the xenos’s mind in the middle of this entire city’s ether. Not exactly on easy thing to do.’’ he commented.

 

‘’The exact methods of the Librarian are approved by both the Codex Astartes and the Astra Telepathica. Needless to say that’s not important right now.’’ Nicanor’s voice held an edge of irritation.

 

‘’Sisters, we have pin-pointed its location roughly to the Schola Progenium housing barracks east of here. The Third Company of my Chapter is launching an assault there soon. We are moving up to support them.’’ He gestured in the direction.

 

‘’Your help would be appreciated Sisters.’’ the Astartes Sergeant said.

 

‘’We would, if you would not bring that witch alon-‘’ Mei started.

 

‘’I’m afraid that’s not an opinion,’’ Heliocles said dryly. ‘’I’m not in the habit of disobeying orders from the Captain of the Third. It’s not exactly a healthy habit to start.’’ he noted.

 

‘’And what if we don’t? I would like to link up with the rest of our order.’’ Sara stated.

 

Nicanor shrugged, a curious gesture in Astartes power armor. ‘’If you wish you may do that-‘’

 

‘’No,’’ Vica said suddenly. Everyone looked at her. ‘’The xenos killed Galatea and routed our Preceptory from the field. Our duty is avenging her death and breaking the back of the swarm. That’s what she would have wanted. That’s what our Canoness would have wanted.’’ she said.

 

She could hardly believe she had spoken out over her more experienced Sisters. Mei looked like she was about to say something before Mara laid a gauntlet on her shoulder guard. She looked at Vica.

 

‘’I would have to agree, despite my………..reservations,’’ she glanced at Heliocles who simply smiled back at her. ‘’We must continue on and kill the xenos.’’ Mara glanced at the others.

 

‘’Whose with me?’’

 

***

 

Nicanor felt his boltgun kick in his hands as the Termagaunt at the end of the hallway exploded into bits of alien flesh and blood. Gore decorated the cold grey walls of the Schola as Nicanor heard a chorus of affirmatives over his vox net. The Sororitas had all elected to join the Praetors and Nicanor immediately led his squad in a breaching operation into the Schola. So far only a few swarms of Termagaunts had been encountered, and all of those had been easily taken care of.

 

Indeed, it was almost too easy. One of the Sisters, Vica he recalled, was a recent graduate of this very Schola. She had been valuable as a guide to the place. While the Schola was a standard Imperial STC construction and Nicanor’s squad had downloaded the floorplans the place itself had been rebuilt only recently. So having her guide them was useful. Nicanor had sent Lukias and his combat squad along Sisters. He kept Heliocles as far away from the Sororitas as possible. The Librarian himself took no offense at that and simply continued on his way, supporting his squad.

 

‘’Morovian here,’’ his brother’s voice came over the vox. He was on point. ‘’The side galleries should be up ahead if I am right.’’ Nicanor listed briefly as he voxed confirmation from the Sisters.

 

‘’Let’s move up and secure that then.’’ he turned to Heliocles.

 

‘’Is it near?’’ he asked.

 

‘’Of course,’’ the Librarian nodded. ‘’I can practically feel its presence. We are nearing it.’’

 

‘’Excellent.’’ then the vox came over again. In the distance the screeching cries of the Tyranids came along with the cough of a boltgun. Daecus turned around, holding up his auspex. Dozens of xenos contact had suddenly appeared as if out of nowhere.

 

‘’Contact!’’ shouted Morovian. ‘’Overwhelming enemy force!’’

 

‘’Understood, we are coming’’ Nicanor voxed back as he ran off into a full charge, his power armored legs pumping back and forth as the rest of his combat squad followed. They ran past empty classrooms and abandoned staircases. A rusting locker door flew off its hinges as Nicanor’s shoulder hit it.

 

‘’Lukias come in on my position and flank them, bring Apion’s flamer and the Sisters at the point.’’ Nicanor instructed.

 

‘’Yes brother.’’

 

Nicanor rounded the hallway. The form of Morovian was best by a horde of scythe-limbed killers who emerged from the side corridors. The Sergeant identified them as Hormanagaunts, close combat variants of the Gaunt genus. He opened fire with his bolter, blowing apart the nearest Hormagaunts. Behind him Ceranus, Velties and Daecus came up, adding their own bolter fire into the Tyranids. As his bolter clicked dry Nicanor drew his power sword and pressed the activated stud. The blade flared to life with cerulean sparks as Heliocles came up.

 

The Librarian sent a funnel of blue fire into the leaping Hormagaunts, reducing them to blackened skeletons on the ground as Nicanor and Daecus moved up into the Tyranids. The Sergeant’s power sword hacked apart swarming tyranid after swarming tyranid as Morovian retreated back.

 

‘’Your status brother!’’ Nicanor shouted over the vox.

 

‘’Tolerable’’ Morovian said. Blood ran from where his armor was breached by the Tyranid horde. He swept back snarling xenos with great swings of his huge gauntlets, his bolter having long since run out of ammunition.

 

Nicanor beheaded another Hormagaunt as it charged at him. The head sailed away as the Sergeant blocked a scythe thrust with his gauntlet. His whole arm jarred briefly before he kicked the Gaunt back and impaled another.

 

‘’Brother-Sergeant here we are.’’ Lukias voice came over the vox. Promethium came through the side corridor as Apion’s form appeared through the wall, followed by Sister Mei’s flamer and Rhesus’s heavy bolter.

 

Tyranid after Tyranid was slain by the flamers or by the concentrated bolter fire. Caught between the two Imperial squads the Tyranid horde rapidly began to slacken and fall apart under the cavalcade of firepower brought to bear.

 

Suddenly Nicanor heard Heliocles call out.

 

‘’It’s here brother! Its right in front of us!’’ he shouted. Nicanor looked around, only seeing the seething hordes of Gaunts.

 

‘’I don’t-‘’ he began then Daecus shouted in alarm. Something rumbled and a trio of shapes tore out of the ground. One of them, a large-snake like Ravener, struck right at Velties as he whirled around. Razor-sharp talons tore off his arms as its powerful jaws ripped off his head.

 

Nicanor ran towards the Ravener, barreling smaller Tyranids out of his way as he brought his sword around. He was angry. One of his squad was dead under his command. The energy-sheathed blade struck the Ravener in the side of its head, cleaving its skull in half. Nicanor reversed the blade and plunged it again into the body. Behind him anther Ravener launched itself at Ceranus, but the Astartes shot it in the nick of time, the bolter round blowing it’s head off and sending the corpse crashing back. Another Ravener struck at Heliocles, its sickle-like limbs digging deep furrows in the Librarian’s blue armor before it was incinerated by a wave of warpfire.

 

‘’Sergeant!’’ Helices called out again as the ground rumbled again. Nicanor righted himself and turned around just in time to see a massive shape come out in the middle of the hallway. Rubble fell from the celling and Sisters Leeta and Priscilla were swallowed up by its maw.

 

Nicanor stared at the massive snake-like head of the beast, covered by thick plates of alien carapace. Its mouth contained row upon row of razor- sharp fangs the length of his sword. Its neck was as wide as the Space Marine was tall.

 

A Trygon!

 

Bolter fire hammered it as the beast writhed around , spittle and blood flying out of its mouth. Distantly Nicanor saw the corpses of the two Sorortias fall down its gaping maw before he added his own fire. But the bolter fire, despite the superficial damage it was causing, hardly bothered the beast.

 

Then Sister Mara shot it with her meltagun. Half of the alien’s face simply melted away, vaporized by the sudden shot. With an ear-splitting shriek the Trygon thrashed around and fell down through where it had come from. Suddenly the floor groaned and several Imperials fell to the ground. Heliocles, Vica, Mara, Mei and Sara disappeared into the ground below as the Praetors scaled with inhuman speed out of the gaping hole in the floor.

 

‘’Brother-Librarian!’’ Nicanor shouted but he was cut off as several Hormagaunts leapt at him. Cursing he charged into battle once more.

 

***

 

Pain lanced through Vica’s being as she landed roughly on her feet. Gritting her teeth she hesitantly righted herself. The fall would have killed her if she had not been in her power armor at the time. Even so the pain was immense.

 

Next to her the psyker landed smoothly and rose up. Heliocles’s eyes scanned the flickering darkness around her. Her Sisters nearby pulled themselves up roughly. Mara looked around, raising her meltagun. They were in some sort of storage basement. Heliocles raised a finger and a small candle of blue flame burned from it, half-illuminating the shadowed storage room they were in. Vica felt a moment of revulsion at his abilities before she saw the form of the Trygon illuminated in the shadows.

 

It was grievously wounded, she could see that. He raised her bolter and fired off a burst, determined to kill the beast that had slain Priscilla and Leeta. Mara joined her and fired a meltagun blast as Mei added her flames and Sara her bolter. In the shadows the Trygon reacted with rage as another superheated beam struck it in the side. Its massive body whipped forward and Mara and Sara flew back, landing wetly on the wall. Vica winced at the faint crunching sound as the tip whipped towards her and Mei.

 

A wall of blue energy surrounded her as the tail of the Trygon bounced off. Vica whirled around to stare in shock at the form of Heliocles creating a cerulean shield in front of her and Mei. Sweat beaded down his forehead as he stared at her.

 

‘’Quickly! Grab the Meltagun!’’ he shouted and Vica turned around and ran. Her legs screamed in agony and she forced herself were Mara’s body lay. Behind her the Trygon screeched and roared, slamming its head against the psychic shield once more.

 

She came next to Mara’s body. She gasped in horror, seeing her Sister’s broken body twisted and unmoving against the wall. She swallowed her sorrow, biting the tip of her tongue as sweat beaded down her forehead. She searched Mara’s body and picked up the meltagun, checking it as her instructors had taught her. Miraculously, it had survived the crash. She turned around just as the blue shield collapsed under the head-butting of the Trygon.

 

The xeno breast roared in triumph as it lunged forward. Heliocles leapt to the side. A spine blade flicked out and tore through is leg. Mei screamed as she was knocked to the side by the immense bulk of the Trygon who headed right for Vica. The Trygon cleared recognized her as the greater thread of them all. It’s immense, half-melted maw opened up, tongue flickered as it closed in on her. Vica fiddled with the meltagun in a panic, trying to find the trigger.

 

Then a bolt of blue energy struck the Trygon in the side right where the earlier melta blast had struck. The beast‘s charge was interrupted, it’s head slamming into the wall from the force of the blow. Vica leapt to the side and fired the Meltagun. The superheated blast struck the Trygon, melting through its skull. The beast writhed on the floor as Vica sighted the weapon and fired a second shot into its body. Then a third. Eventually the writhing of the Trygon slowly ceased.

 

Vica dropped the meltagun from her hands, sweat pouring down from her temples. Her heart hammered in her chest as he stared at the burning corpse of the Trygon. Above the cries of the Tyranids began to fade as the synapse link was broken.

 

Heliocles grunted as he pulled himself up. His left leg was badly mangled and sliced up. He limped towards her, supporting his weight on his staff. Vica watched the psyker as he walked over to her, wondering what he was doing.

 

Then he smiled and nodded at her.

 

‘’Good job.’’

 

***

 

With the death of the Trygon, Atreus drove through the gap in the Tyranids Swarms and sent the Third and the Sixth right into the heart of the Tyranid Synapse. Rhino-mounted Tactical Squads and Assault Marines spearhead my chapter’s assault. Atreus himself leads from the front, locating and slaying the Alpha Hive Tyrant with the help of Veteran Brother Amellius.

 

We are deployed only in the rear cleaning up operations. The Captain has decided we have done enough. By the actions of my squad and that of the Sisters we have driven the swarm out from the city and into the ash wastes. A day later we I receive the official report from their Canoness, acting on information from Vica and the other surviving Sister, Mei. It is short, to the point and openly praising the efforts of my squad and my chapter.

 

All except for Heliocles.

 

I go to him saying that I will correct this injustice. Heliocles just shook his head and said no. He does not want glory or to change the opinions of the stubborn. He simple is.

 

‘’Concern yourself with the Tyranids’’ he gives me a thin-lipped smile. ‘’Our work has only begun.’’

[Ufthak]

WOW! Absolutely amazing!!!

 

As usual, brilliant work :P Sorry I took so long to answer, I was without web access for 2 weeks. Your stories are gripping, and I love the characters, especially the old veterans Morovian, Apion, Ceranus, Lukias and Daecus. Really, really great work! Your stories really portray the dark future of 40K perfectly and epically :P

 

A couple of crits though:

A few mistakes, you should read over it again.

Inconsistency: At one point in the story, you state the Sisters are from the order of the Argent Shroud. Then, later, it's the Sacred Rose.

Inconsistency: If I remember well, in your first story Nicanor's helmet was blue, yet here it appears to be red (or blue with a red trim?)

 

In any case, looking forward to more from you, be it Praetors of Orpheus or Black Legion ^_^

[Gree]

Thanks for the review, I'll go over it again.

 

Inconsistency: At one point in the story, you state the Sisters are from the order of the Argent Shroud. Then, later, it's the Sacred Rose.

 

Sorry my mistake, they both wear silver-white armor. I'll make it into the Sacred Rose then.

 

Inconsistency: If I remember well, in your first story Nicanor's helmet was blue, yet here it appears to be red (or blue with a red trim?)

 

His helm is blue with a red stripe down the middle to show off his veteran sergant status. I hope that clears things up.

[Ufthak]

Ah, now I geddit :P

 

Overall: only minor mistakes and great work!!!

 

Seriously, have your ever thought of trying Black Library? They have open submissions or something every now and then, might be worth a try! I think you definitely are competent enough :P

[Gree]

Ah, now I geddit :P

 

Overall: only minor mistakes and great work!!!

 

Seriously, have your ever thought of trying Black Library? They have open submissions or something every now and then, might be worth a try! I think you definitely are competent enough :P

 

I don't think I would. I prefer to write for the fun of fans online. I would be too busy to actually contribute to Black Library with the pressures of real life.

[Ufthak]

Oh well, a shame ;)

 

Looking forward to more, whatever you write!

(Though I really love the Praetors' Chronicles particularly!!!)

[Gree]

Author's Notes: This is the last in the Dameia arc. Next story we head out again to face another xenos enemy.

 

EDIT: I deleted part of the ending here until I can think of something better. I just don't like how it is now.

 

Reviews and comments are welcome.

 

In the Dark

 

***

 

I am Varion Nicanor, Son of Orpheus, Scion of Guilliman.

 

And we have defeated the Tyranids.

 

Or more accurately, my chapter and our allies threw back the Tyranid presence on Dameia. Hordes of aliens assault the factory-hives of the planet and they are beaten back. Mountains of alien corpses are burned in the victory pyres as the main swarm was annihilated.

 

Captain Atreus coordinated the defense with the Imperial Guard High Command and Wolf Lord Krom Dragongaze. The Wolf Lord himself slew the Alpha Tyrant with his Terminator retinue while it was my Captain that punched a hole in the Tyranid Hive Guards for him to do so. In one mighty battle the Tyranid Alpha Tyrant was slain. For a week afterward countless synapse creatures where slain in pinpoint strikes. After taking massive losses and the elimination of their leaders, the Tyranid swarms fall back into the ash wastes.

 

They are a pale shadow of their former selves. The Guard chases them into the wastes while the fleet finishes off the hive ships overhead. The Tyranid threat is now mostly over, it’s unlikely that they will rise again. But we cannot be so sure. Tyranids have survived before in harsh conditions. We may leave and the Tyranids may regroup in the depths of the hives, like some sort of foul resurgent cancer. I’ve seen it happen before.

 

To this end we postpone our departure in aiding the Guard and the Wolves in hunting down the last pockets of Tyranids on Dameia. This clean-up work is hardly suited for Astartes operations, but if certain dangerous Tyranid leader-beasts survive then only the Astartes have the skills to finish them off quickly. The work is tiresome and repetitive. We go deep into the hives, slay a few Tyranids and move on. Each of the Company sergeants compete to see who has the most kills in the mopping up process. I trail behind in second place.

 

And now I head to an Inquisitor named Valen Toros. He is of the Ordo Xenos and is believed to be on the tail of some sort of Tyranid beast. He calls upon the chapter for aid, requesting a squad to fight alongside him in his hunt.

 

The Captain sends me. I don’t know if this is a snub or an honor. On one hand I represent the Chapter. On the other hand it’s yet another bug hunt, but this time with the Inquisition. I’ve operated with them only once before, on the killing fields of Harva III against the witch-cults there.

 

My team is a man short. Velties is dead, slain by the Tyranids weeks earlier. The Librarian Heliocles is on the front lines, but I am confident.

 

I have little to fear from a routine mission.

 

***

 

Nicanor exited the Rhino, bolter ready as his visor scanned the Imperial building. Once a department hab, the place was transofmred into a temporary field headquarters for the local Guard hunter-killer squads in this area. Behind him the rest of his squad filed out. Lukias his second-in-command, Ceranus the marksman, Apion the flamer bearer, Morovian the largest of them all, Daecus with the auspex, and the remaining recruits to the squad, Protus, Heron and Rhesus.

 

‘’My Lord Astartes?’ a red-robed thrall came up. The distinctive ‘I’ bar of the Inquisition was on his chest.

 

‘’I am Nicanor.’’ the Praetor looked down at the thin figure. He could practically sense the man’s nervousness.

 

‘’Lord Toros waits inside.’’ he gestured hurriedly.

 

‘’Lead the way then.’’ Nicanor said, his voice vox-distorted.

 

‘’Of course my lord.’’ he bowed and led the Praetors in.

 

Guard officers and PDF men moved to the side, parting before the white and blue forms of the Praetors. Some watched with awe as the sight of the Astartes, others with different degrees of fear or respect. Nicanor and his team ignored them.

 

‘’That place is a little big for an office.’’ Apion remarked over their inter-suit communications as they came into the planning room.

 

It was a huge room, once some sort of private retreat for business owners in the hives. Now it was converted into the office and planning room of Inquisitor Toros during his stay on Dameia. A large holo-projector dominated the center of the room with various communications equipment plugged into it.

 

‘’Well he is an Inquisitor.’’ Daecus noted.

 

‘’And? I’m an Astartes, but my quarters aren’t as half as big as this.’’ Apion voxed back privately.

 

‘’Maybe he’s compensating for something?’’ Protus said.

 

‘’Compensating for what?’’ asked Daecus.

 

‘’Hmm?’’

 

‘’What is he compensating for?’’ Daecus continued his inquiry.

 

Protus shrugged in his power armor, a rather odd gesture given his bulk. ‘’I don’t know, it’s a term I heard from the mortals.’’

 

‘’Quiet you, we have work to do.’’ Nicanor interrupted their conversion as Toros got up to meet them.

 

He was a middle-aged man with hooded eyes and receding grey hair. He wore suit of field grey carapace armor and a cloak with the ‘’I’’ symbol of the Inquisition. An ornate hellpistol and rapier was at his side.

 

His movements where measured and smooth. He gave a brief bow to Nicanor.

 

‘’Brother-Sergant Nicanor? I am Inquisitor Toros of the Ordo Xenos.’’ his voice was deep and rich and with no sigh of nervousness. Nicanor noted that the man’s eyes where utterly measured and calculating. It was rare to see a mortal not a least bit nervous around Astartes.

 

‘’Your identification?’’ Nicanor asked.

 

Toros looked surprised for a moment then chuckled.

 

‘’You Astartes……..so strange. And they call my kind paranoid.’’ he fished out an ‘’I’ ’shaped Rosette and pressed a data-rune on it.

 

From the device a minute holo-projection issues forth. Daecus scanned it with his auspex. After a few moments the auspex’s screen glowed briefly and a set of encrypted code ran over the data-screen before resolving itself.

 

Nicanor glanced at the auspex briefly before looking at Toros and nodding.

 

‘’My apologies Inquisitor, but our regulations must be followed.’’ he said.

 

‘’Follow them then.’’ Toros turned around and activated the holo-projector in the middle of the room.

 

‘’Let’s start here. Hive section 3-18.’’ immediately the projector came to life.

 

Green light leapt up and in seconds a three-dimensional view of the hive section was shown. Different levels and access points resolved themselves along with notes on areas of residence. Sewage systems, power conduits, mag-trains. Every detail was mapped out.

 

‘’As you know 3-18 in near the underhive.’’ the hive sector faded back to a larger view of the spire-like hive itself. 3-18 was a red area outlined in the rest of the blue holo-mass of the main hive itself.

 

‘’Eight killings. Eight deaths since yesterday morning.’’ Toros said as the holo-map zoomed back in on 3-18. Eight red dots showed at various levels.

 

‘’I’ve tracked the killings to this area,’’ the Inquisitor pressed another button. ‘’There is something special about these killings.’’ he mentioned.

 

‘’We guessed that,’’ Lukias studied the map. ‘’Clarify what that is.’’ he finished.

 

‘’The claw marks as you can see are different from any known Tyranid genus.’’ Toros pressed another button and a set of pictures came up.

 

They were bodies of Imperial PDF. Their bodies had been slashed and torn apart, limbs and heads where gone and guts where strewn other the walls and the floor. It was like some savage animal attacked them.

 

‘’That’s from the bodies we can identify.’’ Toros remarked.

 

‘’A new genus?’’ Nicanor asked.

 

‘’Or a new mutation, either way this becomes top priority.’’ Toros deactivated the machine.

 

‘’Must I assume you want to capture this creature?’’ Lukias asked.

 

‘’Yes and no.’’ Toros walked around the machine and faced them.

 

‘’While capturing the beast alive to dissect it and find out how it ticks would be the ideal possibility, I don’t think that is a practical solution. Kill it is the first priority, capture is possible, but don’t take any unnecessary risks.’’ Toros explained.

 

Back in the rear of the Praetors, Daecus grinned. He knew which of the options they would take.

 

‘’Of course I can always examine the remains later.’’ Toros shrugged.

 

‘’Of course.’’ Nicanor said. ‘’But may I ask another question?’’

 

‘’Of course.’’

 

‘’The Wolves are here in this area, closer than us. Why not ask them?’’ Nicanor wondered.

 

Toros chuckled. ‘’I did. True to their nature they did not reply favorably to an Inquisitor.’’ he said.

 

‘’What did they say?’’

 

‘’You don’t want to know.’’

 

***

 

‘’Nasty.’’ Ceranus commented as he looked over the slaughtered corpses.

 

The Praetors and Toros had left in a Rhino to 3-18. Toros had neglected to bring any followers that Nicanor had normally seen Inquisitors keep in their employ. Apparently he felt safe enough with a retinue of Astartes.

 

‘’And fresh too.’’ Protus knelt down observing the bodies.

 

They were in one of the many hive shafts. Gang graffiti and warning sides plastered the walls. Other corridors led out deeper into the darkness of the hive level. It had been a mere half hour after the Praetors had arrived when they found the bodies. Their Rhino was too wide to go in this access shaft so they parked it in a nearby shaft that was wider and better for the vehicle. Rhesus and Heron remained back to help guard the vehicle against any passing Tyranids.

 

Toros came up, cloak trailing behind him as he adjusted the goggles on his head. He pressed a rune on the side and looked over the bodies. Unlike the Praetors who enhanced vision and helmets allowed them to see near perfectly in the darkness the Inquisitor had to make due with different equipment.

 

‘’Claw marks are the same, from what I can tell anyway,’’ he noted. ‘’Fangs marks too, but I don’t think this beast is eating these men.’’ he remarked.

 

‘’No flesh is gone?’’ Protus asked.

 

‘’Yeah, whoever is doing this is doing it because of some sort of frenzy or killing lust.’’

 

‘’So instead of a meat-eater it just kills things,’’ Protus said nodding. ‘’Yes, I got it now.’’

 

‘’This is fresh obviously,’’ Nicanor noted. ‘’The beast has to be nearby.’’

 

His vox-link crackled.

 

‘’Brother-Sergeant!’’ Lukias’s voice came on.

 

‘’Yes?’’ he asked.

 

‘’We found a survivor. It’s a Wolf sir.’’

 

‘’Understood, rendezvousing in your position immediately.’’

 

Nicanor looked at Toros.

 

‘’We’ve got one living, and it’s a Astartes.’’

 

***

 

A minute later Nicanor and the rest of his squad rendezvoused with Lukias’s combat squad.

 

Apion and Heron held an unconscious Wolf between them. The Astartes was a grey-armored marine with grey-streaked black hair and leathery skin. His Great Company markings indicated he was part of Krom Dragongaze’s group.

 

And he clutched an axe, even unconscious.

 

On his armor there was dried blood. Large gashes were torn in his war plate, by the claws of some creature and his wolf pelt was stained wine-dark with blood. In all he looked half dead.

 

Nicanor had him carried to the Rhino.

 

‘’He’s alive?’’

 

Toros asked Lukias as the Praetors gathered around the Rhino. The Praetors second-in-command nodded as he and Protus looked the Wolf over in the Rhino.

 

‘’Of course, he’s badly hurt but Astartes can survive severe wounds like this provided they go into a hibernative state.’’ Lukias stated. Toras looked over the Space Wolf, marveling at the severity of the wounds.

 

Nicanor took away his hand from his helmet. ‘’I’ve contacted Captain Atreus. He’s sending Apothecary Kyros down here along with the rest of the Eagles. He’s also trying to reach the Wolves’s communication channels.’’ he said.

 

‘’When is he going to wake up?’’ Toros asked.

 

‘’Why? Do you want to interrogate him?’’ butted in Daecus.

 

‘’He is the only survivor of the attacks. If I could get any kind of information it would be extremely helpful.’’ Toros noted.

 

‘’I don’t think he’ll be very cooperative.’’ Daecus noted.

 

‘’Unfortunately, I was hoping to convince him otherwise.’’

 

‘’We won’t release him into your custody if that’s what you are asking.’’ Nicanor noted. ‘’And no, before you say anything it’s not a snub of your authority. The Wolves would go berserk if we handed him over to you.’’

 

‘’I see then, you can’t blame me for trying then,’’ Toros sighed. ‘’I’ll just go with you then………..you are going after the beast right?’’ he said.

 

‘’Of course.’’ Nicanor took off his helmet. His neck seals hissed as he removed his blue helmet marking him out as a sergeant.

 

Toros studied the sergeant’s noble-looking face. Thin white scars lined his features. His hair was cropped short. Toros noted the obvious similarity between him and portraits the Inquisitor had seen of Guilliman, the resemblance was uncanny.

 

Nicanor bent over and unhooked the Wolf’s helmet.

 

‘’What are you doing?’’ said Heron curiously. ‘’Please tell me you aren’t really going to put that….savage’s helm on.’’ he sounded aghast.

 

‘’I am, if I can find anything. I don’t have access to the Wolves’ latest squad channels.’’ Nicanor said duly.

 

‘’Sir that would be a diplomatic breach-‘’ Lukias began, but Nicanor had already slipped it on.

 

His armor systems paused before linking up with the helmet. Immediately the familiar Imperial runes and targeting system’s appeared before they flashed and where replaced by a set of Fenrisian runes. Nicanor scanned through each set of information before finding what looked like the communications channel for the local city link.

 

He opened up the signal as a buzz of static came in.

 

‘’This is Brother-Sergeant Nicanor of the Praetors. We have located one of your brothers in level 3-18. He is wounded. We are sending for an Apothecary. If any of his brothers are nearby I wish to rendezvous.’’ he said calmly and clearly in Low Gothic.

 

A few seconds ticked by.

 

‘’Nicanor of the Praetors?’’ a Fenrisian accent cut through the link. ‘’This is Dagur. I know of you. We have lost contact with Hrolf’s Grey Hunter pack. That’s Skold’s helmet. What is his condition?’’ asked Dagur.

 

Dagur the Wolf Priest, Nicanor remembered.

 

‘’He in unconscious and severely wounded. Currently we are waiting for an Apothecary to revive him.’’ Nicanor said.

 

‘’The rest of his pack?’’

 

‘’We have not spotted them and from what I can understand from your runes the rest of the squad icons here are not responding, although I could be confused here, my grasp of your runes is poor.’’ Nicanor stated.

 

‘’Stay there. Do not move.’’ Dagur replied.

 

‘’Negative, the Tyranid bio-form is still out there. I am leaving three of my brothers behind to guard Skold while I and the Inquisitor head out to hunt the beast.’’ Nicanor said.

 

‘’Toros? A bio-form?’’ for a moment Nicanor thought that Dagur sounded, worried for some reason.

 

‘’He is here because of a chapter debt.’’ Nicanor explained.

 

‘’Do not go. You cannot handle this without backup.’’ repeated the Wolf Priest.

 

‘’How so? The beast must be near. I have over a full combat squad of Astartes. I cannot let this thing escape. Do you have any idea of the abilities of the beast?’’ Nicanor asked.

 

‘’This is not your work. You can’t handle it. We’ve encountered it before.’’

 

‘’Then at least enlighten me on to what we are dealing with here. This is no time for pride.’’ annoyance began to creep into Nicanor’s voice.

 

The line went dead.

 

‘’Dammit.’’ Nicanor swore, tearing off the helm and setting on the Rhino bench.

 

‘’What happened?’’ Protus asked.

 

‘’I met with their Wolf Priest. He was stubborn as hell for some reason. No matter.’’ he turned to Toros.

 

‘’Heron, Lukias and Rhesus stay here. The rest of us will continue the hunt.’’

 

***

 

They came through the darkness.

 

‘’Anything?’’ Nicanor asked. It had been over a half-hour since they had left the Rhino.

 

‘’Nothing so far brother,’’ Ceranus said. ‘’Daecus?’’

 

‘’Hmm? Checking is almost finished……….nope. Nothing.’’ the Marine scanned the area with his auspex.

 

The combat squad and the Inquisitor descended into the depths of the hive. Nicanor’s augmented vision spotted various obscene markings and gangland graffiti. The Dameians had quite an imagination, Nicanor mused.

 

Even back in his days as a hive boy back on Orpheus did not quite measure up to this dark dank place. Was it his fading memory? Or nostalgia?

 

Strange, most strange.

 

‘’Wait, something’s coming up on my auspex.’’ Daecus stopped and checked the screen.

 

‘’Yeah, Astartes power units. I got it.’’

 

The stench of dried blood was detected by Nicanor’s olfactory sensors as he spotted. Quickly he gestured to Ceranus and Protus to take point as he switched to his helmets’ infrared.

 

Another minute passed by before they came across the bodies.

 

‘’Throne.’’ whispered Protus softly.

 

It was three Astartes lying dead. Space Wolves all of them. Their bodies had been ripped apart by some sort of wild animal, plasteel and ceramite torn open like some cheap hiver’s can. Dried dark blood covered their features. At least one had a severed arm. What troubled Nicanor even more was the fact there was no alien ichor around. The Space Wolves had fought but had evidently not blooded their foe. What kind of creature could take out three Astartes without as much as a scratch?

 

Ceranus knelt and turned the bodies over as Toros came gliding up, like some sinister shadow.

 

‘’It seems our friend from earlier was from this pack if I recognize the pack markings,’’ Toros noted. ‘’Three Astartes dead? Just like that?’’ he shook his head.

 

‘’Obviously this does not bode well.’’ The Inquisitor sighed.

 

Ceranus lifted up the lips of one Wolf carefully, exposing fangs.

 

‘’Grey Hunters. Hrolf’s pack was Grey Hunter’s right?’’

 

‘’Yes,’’ Apion came up. ‘’I got a look at their pack markings back at the base.’’

 

Nicanor was silent for a moment.

 

‘’………..I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner. Daecus get a blood sample.’’ he indicated. Astartes wounds usually clotted almost instantly, however the wounds here where so large there was plenty of dried blood.

 

‘’You want to configure the auspex to track the blood of the Wolves? Why?’’

 

‘’The creature should have its blood on it.’’ Toros realized.

 

‘’Yes, we configure the blood-scent on the auspex and we find the creature. We’d have to recalibrate the auspex as to not track the bodies.’’ Nicanor noted.

 

‘’I’m getting right on it.’’ Daecus nodded.

 

***

 

Heron looked over the slumbering body of the Space Wolf sprawled on one of the benches of the Rhino. He was snoring softly, his bearded face slack as his superhuman metabolism struggled to heal the grievous wounds on his body.

 

A savage really, Heron sneered. Regardless of what his brother-twit Apion thought of the Wolves, he had little time for their barbaric ways. He hardly needed to waste time on rescuing some of their wounded.

 

‘’What’s the ETA on Kyros?’’ he asked Lukias who was sitting quietly, monitoring the Rhino.

 

‘’An hour at least.’’ Lukias replied off-handedly.

 

‘’He can’t come soon enough. This animal is stinking up the Rhino.’’

 

‘’You should watch yourself,’’ Lukias said calmly. ‘’Nicanor would be displeased.’’ He pointed out.

 

‘’That’s true, but I can hardly stand these so-called Astartes regardless.’’ Heron said.

 

Lukias was silent. He had little time to play with Heron’s personal ego.

 

Suddenly his vox-link crackled.

 

‘’Lukias?’’ Rhesus’s voice came over briefly.

 

‘’Yes?’’

 

‘’My auto-senses are detecting some shape.’’

 

Lukias got up, Heron glanced at him.

 

‘’I’m moving out now with Heron.’’ Lukias replied, grabbing his bolter.

 

‘’Understood, Rhesus out-‘’ suddenly the vox-link was cut off by a heavy bolter burst.

 

Suddenly it struck Lukias, the beast was circling back for its wounded prey. The Space Wolf Skold.

 

‘’Move.’’ Lukias hissed to Heron as the Rhino doors opened.

 

***

 

Nicanor moved through the darkness, Protus took point with Daecus and the rest behind him. Daecus was silently studying the olfactory sensors on his auspex, trying to separate the various blood-trails from each other.

 

Then Lukias’s voice came over the vox-link.

 

‘’Contact! Rhesus is down, we are driving the beast back.’’ Lukias’s voice came, heated and loud.

 

Nicanor snapped to attention.

 

‘’Your position?’’

 

‘’Sector 12.’’

 

Nicanor accessed the maps of the hive level downloaded into his armor’s memory banks. He was near there, they would be nearly in a minute.

 

‘’They spotted the Tyranid beast?’ asked Toros.

 

‘’Affirmative, I’ve left Heron to guard Rhesus.’’ Nicanor nodded, before switch back to Lukias.

 

‘’Understood, drive it towards our positions, we are coming in.’’

 

‘’Yes Brother.’’ the link came off.

 

Nicanor turned to the rest of the squad.

 

‘’You heard him, Sector Twelve, there is an access shaft thirty feet away, move.’’ he commanded.

 

Nicanor’s combat squad sped down the dark corridors, weapons at ready. Toros floundered behind them, his breath coming out in short gasps as he tried to keep up with the Praetors inhuman pace. In less than a minute the Praetors moved through a poor-lit lit shaft and down into Sector 12.

 

The Sector was once some sort of hab-market, used in better days for merchants to peddle their wares in the lower areas of the hive. It had been evacuated during the Tyranid invasion and the illumination lights had been destroyed during the fighting. It was now engulfed in almost complete stygian darkness, what was once a thriving hot-spot was now a night-shrouded ghost town. Vermin crawled through the alleyways and trash littered the empty streets.

 

And now the sound of bolter rounds and bestial growls filled the air. Nicanor and his squad moved out with Protus and Apion taking point with a standard fire-team assault formation for urban areas. Twenty feet ahead in a nearby street Nicanor’s autosenses detected the sounds of combat. Servos whirled lightly as the Praetors rounded the corner. A tall humanoid shape was briefly illuminated in the darkness as bolter muzzles flashed. A white figure was hurled back, blood flying into the air as Nicanor heard Lukias’s curse over the vox-link

 

The rest of the Praetors leveled their bolters as the bestial shape in the darkness. Even with Astartes enhancements the darkness in this area was almost absolute. There were more flashes and a bit of grey was illuminated before the thing dove forward with blinding speed.

 

In a flash Inquisitor Toros was shredded into bloody rags.

 

Protus attempted to react but his bolter was torn out of his hands and ripped to shreds in a second. He was hurled back a moment late, his breastplate torn by enormous claws, talons digging into his stomach. Nicanor leapt forward, blade flashing as he cut as the figure. The beast snarled and turned around as his sword cut deep into its shoulder, drawing dark red blood as it did so. The beast snarled and turned around.

 

For one moment Nicanor saw its features illuminated in the crackling glow of his sword.

 

A lupine, mutated face stared back at him; a bestial muzzle bulged out of a distinctly human face, filled with sharp fangs. Luminous yellow eyes glared at him and the beast’s face was matted with black fur. But most horrifying of all, the beast wore power armor. The symbol of the Space Wolves was unmistakably emblazoned on the shoulder guard of the beast. Talons had been forced through gauntlets and dark dried blood covered them along with scraps of flesh.

 

Nicanor was shocked for a moment, and the Apion turned around and send a gout of promethium at the beast. The wolf-thing howled and leapt out of the way, flames licking at its fur and armor. Morovian came tackling at it.

 

The wolf-thing flew back in the darkness then Morovian’s legs where swept under him as the beast attacked him only to be knocked back by a point blank shot by Ceranus. His bolter muzzle flashed in the darkness as the beast turned to him. Ceranus’s bolter was torn out of his hands as the beast leapt on him, talon and fangs. The wolf-thing fell back as Ceranus’s knife found its way into the breastplate of the beast, bursting through a section of weakened ceramite.

 

Nicanor ran forward, pain blasting through his body as he sighted the form of the wolf-thing right in front of him. A claw blurred towards him as he ducked the blow, razor-sharp talons ripping overhead and lunged forward at the beast.

 

His sword flashed and a lupine head rolled to the ground.

 

***

 

None of my squad was slain. Protus, Rhesus and Lukias all suffered wounds, but they will survive. Rhesus in particular lost an eye and part of his torso to the severe damage, but a new set of bionics is being crafted for him as we speak. The war on Dameia ended not with a bang, but with silence. We and the Space Wolves leave the planet, satisfied that the Tyranid threat has been defeated. Our goodbyes are restrained. Atreus knows when not to press a delicate manner.

 

I am forbidden to speak what I was witnessed. In truth I have no desire to. I am a warrior, not an Inquisitor, and my sole duty is to fight the enemies of the Emperor on Terra. If the Ordo Xenos wished to inquire into the manner they can ask the Wolves.

 

Meanwhile, I rest and heal with my squads. We are heading yet to another warzone against another alien race.

 

They are called the Tau.

 

 

***

 

Well there you have it. How many guessed it was a Wulfen at the end? If people are wondering what exactly happened to the Space Wolf who went Wulfen and nuts....well it's another story.

 

Well form here ends the Damiea arc and next chapter will deal with a vs. Tau short story and the chapter after that will be Eldar or Chaos.

[Ufthak]

Nothing to say, great story as usual! In some way, I liked that no one delved further into what exactly was going on, why the Wulfen was slaying his own, etc., but somehow I would also have liked an explanation.

 

The ending's ok, straightforward and simple, no duel between the Wolves and the Praetors, which I find good - would have turned out a bit too melodramatuic.

 

In any case, outstanding work as usual, if a few minor spelling mistakes. Keep it up Gree!!! ;)

 

Oh, and how about putting all the Praetor stories into one large post/thread? The Chronicles of the Praetors ;)

 

 

P.S.: Looking forward to them meeting the Tau!

[Gree]

Oh, and how about putting all the Praetor stories into one large post/thread? The Chronicles of the Praetors :lol:

 

Well this was intended to be the large post/thread. I was going to link the other stories in the first post eventually.