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Maw of the Kraken


Gree

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Author's Note: Alright, here is the sequel to Eye of the Storm, featuring the same squad from that. It's my third Black Legion work so far. This was edited by St. Gene, so much thanks to him.

 

Reviews and comments welcomed.

 

Maw of the Kraken

 

 

-o0o-

 

The Returned venture far from the Eye.

 

Ashrak the Sorcerer received visions lately, visions of a great treasure, an astropathic monastery in the far reaches of the Imperium. He brings these findings to Heru’ur, who in turn brings them to Abaddon. The Despoiler is pleased by his seers’ findings and bids Lord Varkast and his warband to travel far across the galaxy, through the void and into the Ultima Segmentum. This information, he decreed, will be of great use to his plans.

 

Heru’ur Varkast inspects his entire warband and selects a handful of his best squads. Among them Upuat is selected. I am not surprised. Ever since Horus’s Rebellion we have served as the elite of the XVI Legion, and we will serve ever more.

 

The Occularis Aurum is the strike cruiser selected to carry us and nine other squads under the command of Ashrak into the Eastern Fringe. We travel through the Arx Gap, past Imperial patrols and through the blockade.

 

It takes almost a year of travel before we reach our destination. As we come closer and closer the Sorcerer receives more and more news through his visions. The Tyranids come to devour the world that we seek. The Tyranids are a species that we know of only recently, and even then we thought them to be long gone. They had attacked the homeworld of the XIII Legion, Guilliman’s lapdogs over two centuries ago in Throne-reckoning and where destroyed. And now they come again, devouring worlds.

 

We will not let them take out prize. This is our galaxy to burn, ours to enslave.

 

Horus Luprecal did not die for nothing.

 

-o0o-

 

A barbed black spear cut through the void. Ebon-skinned and trimmed with golden bronze, the strike cruiser tore through the darkness of space out of a seething warphole in the middle of reality. Once it was the Star Hunter, a strike cruiser in the White Scars Chapter.

 

Now it was the Occularis Aurum, warship of the Black Legion.

 

Aboard the bridge, Rafelea Markenhof sat in her command throne, looking over the dozens of bridge officers that manned the Occularis’s command stations. A faint crimson glow lit up the entire room, casting everyone’s features in a faint bloodshine. Only a few of her crew sported mutations, and she herself sported none. They had not been in the Black Legion’s service for long, although their ship had been in the warband’s service for longer than she had been alive. She even wore a defaced version of her old Imperial Navy uniform.

 

There was something empowering about commanding an Astartes strike cruiser. Once she had been assigned to commanding a system tug after her disgrace, but now joining the XVI Legion she commanded a proper warship, one that was appropriate to her skill.

 

She was good at void warfare, masterful to a degree that surprised her Astartes masters (Although they would never admit it). It was one of the reasons why she commanded the ship and not some black-armored Marine.

 

‘’Rafelea, dear.’’ the smooth voice of Ashrak sounded. The skull-embossed doors at the end of the bridge opened and the Sorcerer slipped in, dark robes swirling as he did so. The Sorcerer always unnerved her more than the others for some reason.

 

The other Astartes where silent, and often aloof. This one was cheerful to an almost maniacal degree. She found she really could not predict his actions. He strode over to her and placed one black gauntlet on her shoulder.

 

‘’Are we there yet?’’ he asked smoothly.

 

‘’We have almost arrived, my lord.’’ she said respectfully. Ashrak withdrew his hand.

 

‘’Good! Come in, Sartol, I know you are lurking outside the door,’’ Ashrak called. ‘’Come to see Markenhof have you?’’ he asked.

 

The doors opened again and the armored form of Sartol appeared. His helm was off, exposing his pale, scarred features. Red light from the data-banks cast his features in a crimson glow. Skulls clacked and jangled off his power armor as he looked at Ashrak and Rafelea.

 

‘’Are we there yet?’’ he asked. As the words left Sartol’s lips, the ship shuddered and exited the Warp. Chaos ships had no need for the complicated protective rituals of the Imperial Navy.

 

‘’Of course,’’ Ashrak snapped his fingers. ‘’Inita Prime, is it not?’’ he gestured.

 

Rafelea looked out of the viewport from the vessel, observing the green-blue planet in the distance. Inita Prime was a bulwark world made to protect against the orks from the Charadon sector, manned by a strong Imperial Guard garrison it was a strong defense as anything.

 

It was also under attack by the Tyranids.

 

Ashrak had seen the place in his warp-touched visions. He knew of a great treasure, an astropathic relay high in the mountains of the planet, that held invaluable information for the Black Legion, information that the Warmaster would like to have.

 

And so over a hundred Black Legionaries had been dispatched untder the command of Heru’ur Varkast. Ashrak would command the Returned and extract the information from the planet before it was overrun by the Tyranids.

 

‘’The xenos fleet is spotted.’’ one of the officers announced.

 

‘’Bring us in behind the moon.’’ Rafelea tuned to Ashrak.

 

‘’My lord, your sorceries will cloak us?’’

 

‘’Of course,’’ Ashrak nodded. ‘’The wards I placed on the ship will ensure our invisibility enough for us to close. Wouldn’t want the insects getting a headstart.’’ with that he turned and left, leaving only Sartol and Rafelea in the bridge along with the crew.

 

Sartol walked over to Rafelea and looked down at her. Rafelea shied her gaze away from his hard black eyes.

 

‘’You do well to command the Occularis, better than the last Captain.’’ Sartol said. Rafelea knew full well what fate had befallen the last Captain, and she had no wish to repeat it.

 

‘’I do my duty.’’ she said.

 

Sartol was silent for a moment.

 

‘’This mission is important. I don’t have to remind how much.’’

 

‘’Of course.’’ She replied.

 

She was scared of Sartol being so near her. She had every right to be. But Sartol would not hurt her. Competent naval captains where hard to find after all. He looked at her, studying her lean, patrician features and green eyes for a moment.

 

Then he left without a word.

 

-o0o-

 

The arming chambers of the Occularis were busy. Legion slaves and servitors machined armor and weapons into place and ran last minute checks on the wargear of the Black Legion. Over a hundred Astartes prepared for war.

 

Sartol took his MkVII helm and put it on. Rapidly a tactical view-screen filled his features, washing everything in a crimson haze before turning to normal. A series of data-runes and targeting arrows appeared across his visor before he dismissed them. Then several life-runes, one for each of his squad brothers, came online.

 

‘’How was your visit with the female Captain?’’ Zaltu asked slyly. ‘’Did you enjoy it?’’

 

‘’That’s none of your business.’’

 

‘’But seriously, Sartol, why a mortal?’’ Pidar added.

 

‘’I hate having to repeat myself, Pidar.’’ Sartol put a bladed edge to his words. Pidar got the hint.

 

Nearby Zaltu fitted on his own helm and gave a stretch, testing out his armor once more. When that was satisfied he took his chainsword and bolter from a waiting servitor and checked them over himself.

 

Namtar brought a large knife down on a vat-grown slave and smeared the fresh blood over his shoulder guards and breastplate, muttering a prayer to the Blood God under his breath. Once he was finished he ritually cut his cheeks before putting on his helmet.

 

Always close to Khorne that one, Sartol reflected.

 

Pidar took the Icon from its altar and blessed it with some of the slave’s blood before he accepted his helm. Saphon gave a wet wheeze as his multiple bionic augmentations linked up with his power armor. He took his plasma gun and checked it over.

 

Ishkar silently put on his MkVI armor with the help of a single female slave. To either side of him Keret and Lahar also armored themselves in their black wargear. Sections of jet black armor covered their flesh piece of piece. He and his fellow newbloods had joined the Legion only a few centuries ago, recruited from the masses of cultists that were enslaved by the Black Legion.

 

Keret’s was covered with cosmetic scratches and gashes. He refused to have it repaired, insisting that he had to show off his scars. Privately Sartol thought that a Nurglite streak was beginning to develop, but he said nothing.

 

‘’We are armored for war once more brothers.’’ Sartol began his voice deep and distorted by the vox-caster. He took a shining silver blade from a weapon rack and held it admiringly, it was called Moonclaw and it was a relic blade of the XVI Legion, forged at Terra, back in the days of the Luna Wolves. Then he took his bolter, a recently plundered item taken off the corpse of a Space Wolf.

 

‘’We are Returned.’’ the rest of his squad intoned. They were still understrength from the previous assault at Varlan Gate. Hedam and Sharru had died, and their geneseed would return to the Legion once more. It was the way of things.

 

But Upuat squad was unbroken. They would continue to fight until inevitable victory or their own deaths.

 

Sartol looked around at the seven armored forms of his battle brothers surrounding him and he smiled.

 

-o0o-

 

Major Vassili looked up, sipping his recaf as he did so. The 119th Vahallan’s 8th Battalion, all two thousand of them, where charged with guarding the Kertan Monastery deep in the Fromax Highlands. It wasn’t exactly the choicest posting, but it put the 8th Battalion away from the frontlines.

 

As much as Vassili liked to serve the Emperor, going up against the hordes of Tyranids was not his idea of a glorious death. Keeping the peace against rioters or fighting the greenskin raiders around his homeworld was a much more appealing prospect. But now he was here, on Inita Prime, the frontier world, now under attack by a splinter fleet of Hive Fleet Kraken. It was not an especially large splinter, but it was one large enough to have the Segmentum Command worried. Most of the 119th had been shoved to the front lines.

 

And here, at Kertan Monastery he protected the astropathic choir. Eight hundred Astropaths could launch a message as far as Cadia if needed, and the databanks below where filled with a Segmentum’s worth of communications and information that was far beyond Vassily’s security clearance.

 

‘’Sir,’’ Lieutenant Rozosky came up to him. He was a young, fresh out of the academy. ‘’We have a message from the High Command, a Tyranid swarm is heading for our positions.’’ he said, handing a set of tactical maps to Vassily.

 

The Vahallan cursed as he read through the information. That was not good, but he was confident he could hold out for reinforcements. The Kertan Monastery was situated on a series of mountainous cliffs that offered only one way to effectively reach the monastery by foot. He was confident his battalion possessed enough firepower to throw the swarms back.

 

‘’And sir? We have a communiqué from the Astartes.’’ Rozosky gulped nervously.

 

Vassily’s mouth went dry with awe. Astartes? Here? That was more than he wildest dreams. With the Astartes they could turn back the xenos assault and slaughter them all. Vassily had been weaned on tales of the Angels of Death. If half of those were true then victory should be no problem.

 

‘’ETA is in fifteen minutes sir, they sent a coded message right to use, they are landing three dropships.’’ Rozosky said, his voice a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

 

Vassily sat up, putting aside his recaf. ‘’Get the battalion ready for inspection. When the Astartes get here I want to talk over the defensive plans with them.’’ His mind was racing with the possibilities.

 

‘’Yessir!’’

 

Fifteen minutes later Vassily and his officers gathered in ranks in the airfield in front of the Monastery. Tall communications towers and spires lanced up from the rockerte monastery below. A statue of the God-Emperor rose high, sword brandished.

 

‘’There they are!’’ Rozosky pointed. Indeed, Vassily could see three great black shapes, Thunderhawk gunships move through the clouds. Within moments they had descended down into the airfields, winds whipping up from the VTOL jets on the Thunderhawks.

 

No that they were up close Vassily saw that there was no forms of identification at all. They were just smooth, black, featureless Thunderhawks. One of them turned and landed on the ground while the other two remained in the air.

 

‘’Is this some sort of show?’’ an officer in the back whispered. Vassily ignored him. Suddenly the Thunderhawk door opened.

 

A huge black figure leapt forward. Vassily’s heart jumped up in shock. It was over a foot taller than the Vahallan officer and crowned with horns. Skulls clattered against its dark armor and writhing runes glowed on its plate. A carved golden eye was present on the shoulder pad.

 

This was not Throne-loyal marine.

 

Vassily barely had time to open his mouth before a blazing silver sword cut him in half.

 

-o0o-

 

‘’This is boring as hell’’ Namtar complained as he fired off another bolter burst. ‘’Where is the excitement? Anyone remember Mackan? At least the Angels gave me a good workout there.’’

 

‘’Just keep on killing!’’ Ishkar voxed back, beheading a set of terrified Guardsmen as he fired off another bolter burst.

 

‘’Move up, kill the gunners’’ Sartol commanded as he ran through a squad of terrified Guardsmen, his sword flashing. Heads and limbs rolled on the ground as Pidar and Lahar followed him. Keret opened fire with his flamer roasting another group of Guardsmen.

 

The Black Legionary leapt into a heavy weapons platoon of Guardsmen trying to set up a series of heavy bolters rearward. Immediately Sartol was among them, blade rising and falling as he tore through the loyalists in an orgy of blood. The Vahallans had fought bravely, but they had been doomed from the start. Immediately Upuat squad leapt down among the surprising Vahallan officers and slaughtered them all. A hundred Black Legionaries followed them as pacted daemons and the Thunderhawks came in support.

 

Hundreds of Guardsmen were slaughtered in the first minute, taken off guard and unable to respond to the sudden Astartes assault. Those survivors in the following minutes desperately tried to organize a defensive, but with their officers and heavy equipment gone, they had no chance.

 

In short, it was a brutal on-sided battle.

 

Up ahead, Garlok’s Berzerkers tore into the groups of Guardsmen in front of them. Red and black shock troops tripped through scores of Vahallans with chainaxe and blade. It was like watching a chainsaw tear through butter. Overhead Vasik’s Blackened Claw Raptors flew above, plunging into groups of Vahallans attempting to form a defense, daemonic shrieks ripping through the air.

 

‘’Sartol, move into the complex itself’’ Ashrak voxed. The forms of the Sorcerer strode through the battlefield, casting shadowy lighting from his gauntlets into fleeing Guardsmen, accompanying him was Koramak’s Terminators, eight black armored giants who sent constant volleys of bolter fire into the enemy.

 

‘’Affirmative.’’

 

‘’And would someone destroy that statue? It’s hideous.’’

 

-o0o-

 

Pidar slammed the Icon of Upuat squad into the center of the Kertan observation and communications room. The place was a massive thing, forty meters long and filled with countless arcane equipment used to monitor the psychic transmissions by the Astropaths.

 

Hundreds of bodies, in stasis-cradles, stretched out before the Black Legion. Bodies kicked with nightmares in the floating stasis coffins before Sartol and his peers. The Champion heard a dark chuckle behind him.

 

‘’Fitting that Upuat gets here first’’ rasped Koramak. The hoary old veteran’s voice was deep and raspy, like nails. He wore a massive ornate Terminator suit. Details of his victories were carved into each and every plate, etched there for all to see. Oversized Astartes skulls and helmets clacked on his trophy rack. As commander of one of the Black Legion’s Terminator squads Sartol had to afford him full respect.

 

‘’Yes, well at least we have it here.’’ Ashrak entered, followed by several blood-soaked champions and a group of Dark Mechancius Tech-Priests. The Tech-Priests rushed forward and silvery servo-arms extended from beneath their robes as they immediately hooked up to the systems of the monastery.

 

One turned around and sent a burst of binary before switching to Low Gothic.

 

‘’11011101-we thank you Ashrak of the XVI Legion for your clearance of the Throne-loyal, Downloads of information are beginning immediately.’’ it said, coldly and robotically.

 

‘’Excellent,’’ Ashrak nodded pleasantly. ‘’Lahar, Zaltu.’’ he said, and the two Black Legionaries snapped to attention. ‘’Begin placing the demolitions here, we won’t have need of these Astropaths after we’ve got the information.

 

The two nodded and left.

 

‘’And what now Sorcerer.’’ Garlok’s ragged, grinding voice sounded through his horned helmet. A hulking figure in black, red and gold armor, he was stained wine-dark with the blood of his enemies. Skulls mounted on long chains hung from his armor, each a favored kill. A double-headed power axe was clutched in one hand, the head of an Imperial Commissar in the other.

 

His impatience with the servants of Tzeentch was typical of his kind.

 

‘’We move up a defense, the Tyranids are coming after all.’’ Ashrak sighed.

 

‘’What?’’

 

‘’Oh do be happy Garlok, more skulls for Khorne of course.’’ He gestured. ‘’The Vahallans were easy enough, but you could say we took them…off guard.’’ he chuckled.

 

Nobody laughed.

 

‘’Off guard? Get it? Imperial Guard? We took them off-guard?’’ Ashrak cocked his head.

 

No reply.

 

‘’You did not tell us that the Tyranids were a part of the plan.’’ Dtar, the Champion of a Plague Marine squad gurgled out. Once he had been one of Sartol’s training brothers back in the days of the Luna Wolves. Now?

 

He was something more, a filth-streaked figure. His gut burst beneath his armor plating, and the grime and pus of ages ran from his armor joints. His mono-eyed helm was blank and filmy, like the rheumy eyes of a corpse.

 

‘’The tides often war change.’’ Sartol reminded them.

 

‘’That they do brother.’’ Dtar the corpse-thing rattled off. He gave a hacking chuckle.

 

‘’Then we defend it, as you know the information we have here is extremely important to say the least.’’

 

‘’Then what do we do Sorcerer?’’ Vasik, the Raptor leader, hunched down on all floors, the turbines of his jump pack spinning impatiently, he hated being confined in close spaces like this.

 

‘’Defend of course.’’ Ashrak turned to one of the Tech-Priests.

 

‘’How long will the download process take?’’ he asked the leader.

 

After a few moments the heretic Tech-Priest turned around.

 

‘’Thirty minutes.’’

 

-o0o-

 

‘’That’s a lot of xenos.’’ Zaltu said as he saw the approaching horde on the horizon.

 

‘’Really, brother? I would have never noticed.’’ Ishkar said sarcastically.

 

‘’Well, it’s somewhat obvious that there is-‘’ Lahar began.

 

‘’-I was being sarcastic you idiot.’’ Ishkar glared at Lahar through his helm.

 

‘’Quiet,’’ Sartol stepped in. ‘’Pidar, is the standard ready?’’

 

‘’Of course si-‘’

 

‘’Blood for the Blood God!’’ Namtar raised his chainsword.

 

-that too sir, supplications to all four powers have been made.’’ Pidar nodded.

 

‘’Permission for first shot, Champion?’’ Saphon asked.

 

‘’Permission denied. We don’t want to waste the plasma gun yet.’’ Sartol looked at Ishkar.

 

‘’Ishkar?’’

 

The Black Legionary cackled over the channels and lined up his bolter shot. A moment later he fired.

 

The Tyranids came in a tide of chitin and claws. Countless hundreds of smaller beasts scampered underfoot while vast flocks of gargoyles flapped through the skies. Hulking Carnifexes and Tyranid Warriors stood above the hordes. Floating Zoanthropes crackled with power.

 

The skull of one of the Tyranid Warriors exploded as the Tyranids crossed into the optimal killing range. Immediately the Black Legion Havoc squads lit up the horde in a storm of heavy bolters, frag missiles and lascannons. Scores upon scores of Tyranids were killed, then a moment later volleys of bolter rounds joined in, along with the base’s outer defenses, now under the control of the Black Legion’ tech-adepts. A veritable storm of fire lashed into the xenos.

 

Kertan Monastery was situated on such a way that there was only one way to approach the monastery on foot on the cliffs. Only the Gargoyles where able to circumvent the route, but as they circled behind autocannon fire from the base’s defenses felled them in the hundreds.

 

One by one on the rocky outcroppings the Black Legion combined their fire, creating overlapping fields that pushed the Tyranids into kill zones. Underneath the ground the mines that the Vahallans had set up earlier erupted.

 

Great clumps of Tyranids where blown to pieces. Yet they still came on.

 

At a word from Ashrak, daemons clawed their way forth from reality, using the corpses of the freshly slain Guardsmen which the Black Legion had arranged them into summoning circles.

 

Crimson-skinned Bloodletters charged full tilt down the hillside while Daemonettes pirouetted and danced through way into the Gaunt brood. Flamers blasted gouts of silver fire into the swarms of Tyranids horde. Furies fought Gargoyles overhead. Through the swirling melee the Tyranids fought tooth and claw with the daemons while the Black Legion indiscriminately poured fire into the melee, not caring about their daemonic allies. They could not truly be killed anyway.

 

Carnifexes where slain by heavy weapons fire while Tyranid Warriors and Bloodletters pulled each other down. Xenos ichor and daemonic warpstuff soon hissed down the mountainside. The Tyranid horde was suddenly stopped in its tracks.

 

The Tyranids continued to advance towards the Black Legion, but they were slowly cut down as the withering bolter fire reduced the xenos charge. Only a few Tyranids reached the Chaos Astartes’s lines and they were cut down quickly.

 

Silence reigned on the battlefield.

 

‘’Well that was easy.’’ Zaltu muttered.

 

-o0o-

 

 

Zaltu’s words where proved wrong when the Tyranids came two more times, both times being cut down before they could reach close quarters. Only at the third time did they come in greater numbers and with ranged weapons.

 

Fleshborers splattered off Sartol’s armor as he blew the head off a Tyranid Warrior and shot three more Gaunts. The Tyranids numbers seemed endless, although they were greatly thinned out compared to the earlier assault Hormagaunts leapt over the rocks and among the Black Legion.

 

‘Finally!’’ Namtar leapt forward, disemboweling the first gaunt and then beheading another He was confronted by four more and engaged them in a flashing duel of scythe-claws and chainblade. Next to him Zaltu withdrew his blade and Keret opened fire with the flamer.

 

Through the blazing flames Gaunts died. Then a pair of hulking Tyranid Warriors charged through the promethium, their outer carapaces burning off from the tainted fires. The first one hit Keret hard, it’s claws tearing strips of ceramite from the Chaos Marine’s breastplate and gutting him. Sartol appeared through the flames, Moonclaw removing the Tyranid Warrior’s arm and then head. Keret fell back, hacking up blood as the other Tyranid warrior advanced on Sartol, the claws flashed forward and Sartol severed one of them before shooting the Tyranid warrior in the face.

 

Then Karomak’s Terminators walked forward, combi-bolters blazing. Their trophy skulls jangled as they tore into the nearest group of Tyranids. Power maces and axes hewed a path of corpses through the grunts.

 

Garlok’s Berzerkers tore through the enemy. Garlok himself was a blur of motion as he abandoned his bolt pistol, using his power axe two-handed against the Tyranids before him. Currently he was dueling a trio of Tyranid Warriors.

 

Two massive Carnifexes charged through the hordes of lesser Gaunts, heading straight for the central positions. Lascannons beams and heavy bolter rounds dropped one, but the other kept on coming despite its severe wounds. Its massive crab like claws seized three Astartes from Bartek Squad and tore them to pieces, its tail slammed another away into the melee. The Carnifex roared and turned around, acidic saliva dripping from its fangs.

 

Then Vasik the Raptors Leader landed on its back, quickly the Raptor leader rammed his lighting claws into the head of the Carnifex and then ripped sideways, slowly, but sure the head came apart in a shower of ichor.

 

Vasik leapt nimbly as the huge corpse of the Carnifex fell to the ground, his thrusters burning as he was carried into the air.

 

Meanwhile Ashrak sent bolts of black lighting and shadowy bursts into a Zoanthorpe, the Tyranid beast screamed and exploded from the backwash of warp energy that Ashrak channeled into him. To the right of him Dtar’s Plague Marines held their ground, to the left Karomak’s Terminators moved in.

 

The Tyranids wave had been halted now, but at the edge of his senses he sensed more beasts coming up. The Tyranids where really relentless, the Black Legion might not even have enough ammunition to deal with the hordes.

 

Then his vox activated. It was Kheitar, the Dark Mechanicus representative that had joined this mission.

 

‘’Sorcerer Ashrak of the XVI Legion. Information has been covered, we are en-route to the Thunderhawks now.’’ the cold monotone came in. Ashrak grinned.

 

‘’All units,’’ he opened up all frequencies. ‘’The objectives have been met, fall back to the Thunderhawks by squad. Terminators, Squad Dtar, Squad Ralek, form a firebase. Everyone else, withdraw. Yes, that means you too Garlok.’’

 

A bestial howl answered him before Garlok shut off his cerebral implants. ’’Yes Sorcerer.’’ he growled out hatefully. Slowly, but surely he beat some sense into his Berzerkers and they fell back.

 

Ashrak brought his staff around, impaling a Gaunt before incinerating it in a burst of black fire.

 

‘’Upaut Squad! Converge on me.’’ he ordered as Dtar’s resilient Plague Marines and Karomak’s Terminators held their ground.

 

The Tyranids had been badly blooded and until the next swarm arrived, would not be able to get past the Black Legion’s defenses in time. Nonevertheless Sartol was going to do anything he could to cover the Legion’s retreat.

 

‘’Pidar, summon my vassal.’’ he commanded. Pidar grunted and lifted the squad Icon high into the air. The spiked golden eye glowed briefly as he chanted the phrases of summoning.

 

Immediately crimson warpstuff flashed into reality as the daemons bound to the Icon where released into the material world. A tall humanoid shape materialized from the red warp energy right before Sartol’s eyes.

 

Khas’tarka was eight feet tall and heavily muscled as any Astartes. He wore a suit of bone plates and a cloak of skulls. His skin was the color of old blood and his bestial face was famed by four twisting horns, like that of a goat. His eyes where white without any pupils. He carried a massive two-handed broadsword in his claws.

 

‘’Have you summoned me to kill again, Child of Horus?’’ Khas’tarka bellowed out, his voice inhuman.

 

‘’Yes, you and your retinue will cove our retreat.’’ Sartol replied briskly as he fired off another bolter burst into the advancing Tyranids.

 

‘’Coward.’’ Khas’tarka replied hatefully as seven more Bloodletters flashed into existence.

 

Sartol ignored him. He knew the daemon hated him ever since he had acquired his services. Two millennia ago Sartol had come to some nameless daemon world in the depths of the Eye and challenged Khas’tarka, daemon-champion of Khorne to a battle. If he won he would have Khas’tarka’s service as long as he drew breath. Is he lost Khas’tarka would have his skull.

 

He won, of course.

 

It was the second hardest fight in his entire life (The first having been his first encounter with the Corpse-Emperor’s Grey Knights). Once he had recovered the Herald and his Retinue presented themselves before him.

 

Upuat Squad fell back, bolters blazing as Khas’tarka charged screaming into the Tyranid horde before him, followed by his Bloodletter pack. They could be torn to shreds eventually but as daemons they could not truly be killed. Their sacrifice would buy the Black Legionaries enough time. Upuat Squad moved up the open bay of the Thunderhawk before him. Already inside were other Black Legionaries, hooking themselves into the restraints as the Thunderhawks prepared to take off. Karomak’s Terminators and Dtar’s Plague Marines had already withdrawn thanks to Upaut’s pacted daemons.

 

As he reached the Thunderhawk Sartol was hit by something huge. Pain ripped through his side as a massive Tyranid appeared to materialize out of the nearby outcropping and strike him. Its skin warped and flowed as if it were bending light.

 

Some sort of Tyranid stealth-beast. Sartol rolled as the claws flashed again, almost spitting him. He had his bolter knocked out of his hands and he had no time to raise Moonclaw and kill the beast. It looked bad for him.

 

Then Lahar came charging in, chainblade whirling, the blades hacked through the Tyranid beast’s torso, hacking off one of the bladed scythe-limbs. The thing whirled, face-tendrils writhing as its remaining three-claws flashed.

 

Lahar was torn. His body was thrown back into the Thunderhawk, crimson blood flying everywhere, but it was enough for Sartol.

 

He leapt up, Moonclaw flashing. The Tyranid beast had no time to react as it was cut in half. The twin writhing halves slumped to the ground as Sartol limped into the Thunderhawk. The doors closed behind him as the sounds of battle raged on.

 

-o0o-

 

We have won.

 

While we had taken losses on the world, we have gotten the data. All of it. Entire databanks of half a galaxy’s worth of information. Imperial troop movements, Crusade plans, locations of vital worlds and information on Chapter Planets. We have the location of over sixty Inquisitorial faculties and Sororitas training planets. We know the routes of over twenty Black Ships. Sixteen Astartes died to the hordes of the Great Devourer. But their deaths are a small price to pay for information of this magnitude. The Warmaster will be greatly pleased. Out brothers’ sacrifice was not in vain.

 

When I return to the Occularis’ med-bay to have my wound treated, the woman, Markenhof visits me. She seems fascinated by me for some reason. How odd for a mortal. She is valuable to the Legion certainly, but there is something more to her behavior?

 

Romantic love? No, I have long since cast aside any sexual desires. Respect? Admiration? Fear?

 

I will find out eventually.

 

On more pressing matters. Lahar survives, although barely alive. Some of my fellow Champion-Sergeants demand that he is euthanized and his geneseed used to uplift another aspirant into the ranks of the XVI Legion.

 

I disagree and take my case to Ashrak. Lahar has served with me for over four of the Imperium’s centuries. I hold enough respect for him to see him ground up for spare biological parts. I want him placed in one of the XVI Legion’s spare Dreadnought frames. I want to him to kill again.

 

Such an honor is usually only done to the greatest of heroes in the Black Legion, or its worst offenders. Ashrak puts Lahar in a stasis field and says that it will be up to Lord Varkast to deicide.

 

I hold my hopes.

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  • 1 month later...

Hey Gree, only got round now to read your story. Really, once again I can only say: brilliant!!! Very very good portrayal of Chaos Space Marines :D Keep up the good work and keep me notified if you have any new stories! Any idea what's up next?

 

By the way, ever thought of writing a story where Upuat squad meet Nicanor squad? That would make a grand ending to one (or both) of the storylines, and would be epic :P

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The line 'Horus Lupercal did not die for nothing' sent chills through me.

 

You've got some interesting characters here. Manic Sorcerer, stoic Champion with mortal admirer, various Black Legionaries falling prey to the vices of specific Gods. All in all this is very in keeping with the themes of the Black Legion.

 

I think you have a tendency to break a couple biggies that make my eyes kind of glaze over when I read.

 

The beginning has a fair bit of info dump. I'd advise spreading it out- incorporate it into the dialogue, but not in such a way that the characters are puppets to give out information. Make it natural. Read it out loud, with the voices of your characters in mind. This may require that you expand on the first part of the story- being on the ship. However, I don't think this is a bad thing, as I found it interesting.

 

Then there were some things, on the other hand, of which I would like to know more. Why doesn't their ship need the same Warp-exit processes as the Navy? Surely the reader can surmise it is the favor of the Gods and their connection to Chaos, but I want to know. I want something to compare it with.

 

In the beginning of this piece I feel you did a great job of showing and not telling, or rather, evoking and not showing, as I epiphanized (not a word but I'm making it) in my creative writing courses. However, when we get into the bolter porn I feel there's a lot more steps involved: move, shoot, show other dudes moving and shooting. Battles are hard to write for a wargame tie-in because we see so much of it it looks like a battle report. Show me how the Terminators lurch or stomp or lumber forward into the fray. Give me the smell as that gaunt is cooked by Warpfire. Make the sound of chainswords through alien flesh.

 

Long sections of battle and dialogue need some meat in between everything else.

 

Also, watch the were's and where's. B)

 

It's a really fine piece of writing, and I'm going to check out the rest for sure.

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Thanks for the review, I'll take that in mind when I write the next one. I've already included the link in the previous story here.

 

Yeah, I was kinda thinking it could be the last, closing chapter for both storylines...well, i hope it'll be a while yet, looking forward to more :P Any idea what'll be up next?

 

No, idea, I'm still thinking of what I want to do.

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