Brother-Captain Malachi stepped around a human woman's body; his gaze surveying the deaths the enemy had caused earlier that week. His company had arrived on Solos V over 6 days ago. The fatigue was starting to get to him, and his Power Armor was becoming uncomfortable. He had not had sleep in almost 100 standard hours, and it was night now. It was very tempting to just sit and rest, but he had work to do. He gave a hand signal to his scouts, ordering them to fan out around the town. Unfortunately, there was not much to see. New Vadenborg had been totally destroyed. Now, they just had to find the rest of the people. There were literally hundreds of bodies in the streets of the capital city, but this did not account for the thousands that had lived here.
With a mental command, he opened the file on Solos and displayed it on his HUD. The exact population of this town had been 10,673. That was last year - space travel still took some time, even with the use of Warp Space, and a census had not been taken since the last Black Ship had arrived to take it's donation of Psykers from the death world. This planet was coreward of Terra, lying close to the Maelstrom - a huge warp storm near the galactic core. The storm's edge was only a thousand light-years distant. The forces of Chaos could easily reach this place in under a week.
This was not like the Chaos forces, however. If it were indeed the Traitor Legions that had attacked, there would be many more bodies. There would still be daemons around, and the town would be utterly destroyed. Here, the buildings were still standing and relatively free of damage, but the bodies were quite numerous. There was no sign of Daemons.
Malachi issued the prayers of his Chapter for the souls of those dead here, and continued onwards. He was a Chaplain of his Space Marine Chapter, the Black Templars. It was odd that he was put in command of a scout squad, but not unknown. His Chapter had been under strength ever since the incursions by the Tyranids. The company's apothecary called Malachi over.
"Sir, this is very distressing." Brother-Apothecary Icaron stated.
"How so?" Malachi replied.
"Well, the wounds sir." Icaron pointed at the small, needle-like cuts in the woman Malachi had seen earlier. "These are like nothing I have ever seen. Do you notice how they do not bleed much? But they go completely through, as if at very high velocity." He turned the woman over and showed Malachi the woman's other side. It had slightly larger exit wounds from whatever had hit her. Malachi looked up at Icaron. He continued as he showed Malachi the injuries, "And look at the base of her skull. There is a small incision - very precise. It looks like whomever did this took a sample for medical study."
Malachi nodded, "Perhaps it was Eldar pirates?"
Icaron shook his head, "No, sir. They don't do this. Eldar pirates tend to be extremely unstable, and do not have the patience, skill, nor the equipment to warrant such things." He looked up at Malachi and stated quietly, "I think this was Eldar doing, alright, but it was not pirates."
******
Icaron studied the body he had taken from the planet's surface. He recorded the wounds in his notebook and started the autopsy, recording the proceedings. He tasted some sort of clear liquid flowing from one of the wounds. He had done this many times before on many different planets. It was the quickest way to determine what had caused the death of a victim. He frowned as his internal computer processed the poison. It came up negative in the database. This was not so unusual in itself, but there were several discrepancies to make note of.
First, the poison came up negative in a catalog of over three billion different poisons and toxins. Second, this planet only had 5 plants that secreted poison at all, and of those, none were even remotely similar. It was matched as a synthetic neuro-toxin, on the same basic level as Cyanide, but much more severe. He had only tasted a small sample, but he was sure to get sick later. Third, the poison had no color, smell, taste, or defining feel - it was almost exactly the same as water. He knew of only one group of people that ever used poisons such as this - the Officio Assassinorum, but if it was the Office of Assassins that had caused this, it made no sense. Why would the assassins have any interest in this remote world? This fact posed an even greater threat. Whatever caused these deaths was not of human origin, but the Eldar did not do this either - at least, not any Eldar he had ever seen.
Icaron accessed the Eldar database and cross-referenced the poison to their index. There was a match. This poison had not been manufactured in over 30,000 years by any known race but the Eldar. They had used it before, but not since the destruction of their homeworlds upon the creation of the psychic blast that created the Eye of Terror. Icaron became pale. This meant that whomever had created this poison against them originated in that blast or before it happened. He tried to read the rest of the screen, but his vision blurred. His medikit injected him with several different stimulants and pain blockers, attempting to stop the toxin flowing throughout his system. Icaron groaned and staggered towards the exit. As he reached the open button, his vision suddenly cleared.
Icaron smiled and chuckled, opening the door - no ancient toxin could kill someone as resilient as a space marine. As he stepped from the room, he collapsed. The last sound he heard was the blaring of his suit's medical sensors.
******
Malachi frowned down at the report he had written to Terra. It was quite distressing that an alien toxin of Eldar origin had killed the apothecary here. The fact that it had not been used in over 100 millennia was even more distressing. He signed the report and signaled to the Astropath to transmit it. Even as he took the report and left, Malachi stood and started towards the door. He walked down the hallway silently, nodding to those that he passed, offering them blessings in the battles to come.
He exited the Thunderhawk and began walking down the road through the middle of the ghost town. The bodies had been taken away earlier that day while he rested. As he neared the governor's palace, his comlink buzzed. He issued the mental command to open the link.
"Sir, we have reports that the Solos VIII outpost is being attacked by unknown intruders. It is believed that these are the same aliens that attacked here."
Malachi acknowledged the report and ordered over the comlink, "All Marines, report to battle stations. This is not a drill. Repeat, all Marines report to battle stations. We dust off in 15 minutes. Report to your Thunderhawks for transport to the Battle cruiser Angel's Fury." He turned and started back to the Thunderhawk landing site.
******
Malachi smiled cruelly through his helmet as they approached the space station orbiting Solos VIII. The enemy ship was docked with the station. He turned back towards the crew, looking directly at the gunner. "Target their engines and fire on my command."
Just as Malachi turned back towards the view screen, a technician shouted, "Incoming!"
He barely had time to grip the handrail before the blast hit. A reverberating explosion rocked through the hull and sparks exploded around him as the electric charge blasted free from some consoles from overloading power conduits that had been hit. The Engineer on the bridge shouted, "We've got a breached hull on decks 8, 9, 10, and 11! The Emperor save us, what was that weapon?!"
Malachi growled and looked at the enemy ship as it began to pull away from the station. "Fire!"
The gunner responded instantly, triggering several blasts from the linked lasblaster and plasma coils mounted on the hull of their battleship. The enemy cruiser was no match for the devastating weapons the Angel's Fury mounted. The las blasts seared huge rents in the underbelly of the enemy cruiser just moments before the plasma bolts rocketed into the engines.
The first bolt scoured the surface of the engine shielding, melted globules of armor flowing into space. The second bolt tore through the engine and blasted into the interior. The ship spun out of control and its nose swung towards the station. The crew of that vessel was under extreme pressure, probably close to 12 G's, from the sudden attack. They could not control their ship.
Malachi just watched helplessly as the armored bridge section smashed into the hull of the Solos space station. A series of explosions rocked the station and it exploded as the liquid fuel cells ignited. All 250 people onboard had probably died.
He turned towards the navigator, "Prepare to dock with that ship. We're going aboard." He pressed the intercom button, "Battalions Alpha, Beta, and Omega, prepare for boarding actions against the enemy ship. Group up in Assault Bay three for debarkation."
Malachi raced towards the armory, passing several soldiers on their way to the assault bay. He entered the door using his keycard, climbing into his suit of tactical dreadnought armor, taking up his storm bolter and Crozius Arcanum. He stalked towards the bay and smiled. Today, the enemies of the emperor would fall.
******
The bay doors buzzed as they prepared to open, plasma torches having cut through the hull just moments before. He signaled the marines to fan out as he finished up the Battle Litany that he had been orating to the troops. The doors sprang open and the marines went through with all guns blazing.
Malachi stepped through into the enemy ship and surveyed the sleek craft from the inside. Marines fanned out through the ship's empty hallway. IT was quite long, stretching through darkness to each side. Everyone took up defensive positions in various darkened doorways along its interior, and Malachi noticed the strange smell in the air. It was a smell that was common on the battlefield. The stench of death and decay. He noticed the entrails strung up along the walls and the strange, swirling glyphs on the doors. They looked like those of the Eldar, but strange… twisted.
He had no chance to interpret their meaning, since a twisted creature leapt from a door towards his throat. Malachi cried out in surprise despite himself and fired off several bolter shots at the creature, none of the striking as it reached his armor. He had nothing to really worry about - Terminator Armor is nearly impregnable, but it seemed to go for the weak points. He brought up his Crozius and smashed it down on the creature's back. It fell, screeching in anger, writing on the floor with a broken spine. Malachi fired a double blast into its thick, matted fur and it died.
He was breathing heavily and looked around when all hell broke loose. From every door, every air vent, nearly invisible creatures appeared in the dark corridor, attacking the marines where they stood. One stood in front of Malachi and he could not help the feeling of indescribable horror that overcame him.
It shimmered into being before him, crouched in a battle stance. Even crouched, it was nearly as tall as he, and covered in a strange, mesh armor. The armor had dozens of blades and spikes protruding from it and the thing hissed. Bolter shells wined around him as other marines screamed in agony as they were torn apart by the various creatures assaulting them.
Malachi readied his Crozius as it attacked. The double edged, reversed swords that it carried swiped out, biting deep into his ceramite-plate armor. They whizzed blurred as they were pulled out, and Malachi struck back. He was unmerciful, uttering curse after curse as he struck out at the creature. One lucky his struck his enemy full in the face. It's black, ichorous blood sprayed over his faceplate as its head was crushed under the powered blow.
He turned and assisted his other warriors in fighting off their attackers, and soon, the enemy was repulsed, slinking back into the darkness from whence they came. Malachi stood over the body of the one he had killed. It was Eldar, but not like any he had ever seen. The armor was covered in some sort of sneak suit, allowing it to remain unseen. It carried a strange pistol that fired unknown ammunition covered with some sort of clear poison. It looked like a match of the toxin that had killed Brother Icaron.
Malachi called on his comlink, "Brother Nathaniel, prepare the Eversor. It seems that our little party was expected. We were ambushed and our losses are over 20 percent. Order it to go to the bridge and bring me back the leader of this raiding party. Alive."
Moments later, barricades had been set up in the halls. Most of the walls were made of the dead bodies of both friends and enemies, but the armor that they provided could not be discounted. Scouts were ordered into the vents above their heads and thermite charges were planted along the walls. Anything going through the ducts would not live for long.
Malachi signaled to his troops and they spread out, placing infrared sensors about beyond the barricades to watch for any more Eldar wearing that light bending armor. It was Malachi's experience that the best cloak armor in the world would still put off heat.
Moments after this was completed, a form darted past him. Malachi brought up his storm bolter, but paused. It was the Eversor. This man was the deadliest creation ever to be created by the Imperium. Out of the thousand or so people put through the training to become assassins, no more than five ever succeeded. Space Marines were tough - the best warriors in the galaxy - but a well-trained Eversor class assassin could kill a squad of them before they even knew what had hit them. This particular assassin, Nickolai, had a kill count that was impressive for even one of his kind. Before Malachi could even register his presence fully, Nickolai was gone.
The assassin pressed several buttons on his chest, forcing the injected hormones and stimulants through his system. He shuddered briefly and continued on his way. He realized that the stimulants that he had just injected would have killed any three men, but for the Eversor it was standard. There were so many toxins, stimulants, hormones, and other drugs coursing through his system, that if he did not take them on a regular basis, he would die.
That was why he had been kept in stasis for years on end. Nickolai smiled as he thought about it. Eversors had a nasty tendency to kill whatever came across their path - they were the most dangerous humans that were ever trained. Being active for more than a few days at a time caused a terrific strain on the assassin's metabolism. Any longer, and the assassin would soon forget about the orders implanted directly in his brain from stasis. He would just kill. Kill anyone or anything in his way.
He darted down the hall at blinding speed. Just ahead, a guard was locking a door behind him. Silent as a cat stalking his prey, Nickolai stepped behind his victim. Before the Eldar could even twitch a muscle, Nickolai's claws dug deep into his back. The Eldar collapsed; the poisons Nickolai's body had produced wreaking havoc on the guard's nervous system.
A sadistic grin came over Nickolai's features behind his skull-like mask as he slipped through the door the guard was at. Nobody was inside. He pulled the guard through the door and put him in a storage locker after locking the door. Above, an air vent was blowing cool air through the ship.
Nickolai easily tore the welded metal grating off of it and slipped through, fusing the grating back in place after himself with the arc torch set into his arm. Turning in the narrow space, the assassin slipped easily down the confined space.
Following the sensors displaying information on the retina of his cybernetic eye, he soon arrived at the bridge. Peering down through the grating, he saw 10 crewmen, all going about their business. He chuckled quietly to himself. He could kill every single one without a sound. He was sure of it.
The bridge door opened and an Eldar stepped through. This one looked to be the leader, as every other Eldar on the bridge snapped to attention. "Excellent," he thought, "My objective will be complete in a matter of seconds."
Tearing the grating from its hinges, Nickolai dropped through. He darted to the communications officer and dispatched him with a quick swipe, then turned to the Eldar leader. He was gone.
Rage spread throughout Nickolai and he roared, tearing the Comm Station from the ground and hurling it at another bridge officer, crushing him against the wall. He looked about wildly, searching for the leader. The other Eldar were shocked, just staring at the assassin that dropped from the vent.
Grabbing one of the onlookers by the throat, Nickolai crushed his windpipe and threw him against the wall with a dull thud. Within seconds, the rest of the crew was dead.
Laughter erupted from behind him and he turned, too late. The leader had used some sort of camouflage to disappear into his surroundings. He was back now, and fired the wicked looking weapon in his hand. Nickolai dived for cover, only to see the bullet veer and hit him anyway. Unconciousness swept over him.
Malachi was fighting his own battle. Dozens of strange warp beasts had attacked soon after the Eversor had left. They were relentless, climbing over the piles of bodies to feast on the flesh of the space marines. He held them back as well as he could, fighting close quarters as he and his men were accustomed, drawing power or chain swords to deal with the enemy.
One beast bit through Malachi's armor easily, sendimg pain coursing through his leg. He dispatched it easily, and turned to fight the newest opponent. He realized suddenly that he could not move his leg. Warnings were flashing in his helmet, telling of severe damage to the leg actuator and the flesh underneath. He growled and pulled a fragmentation grenade from his belt, tossing it into the crowd of beasts.
Several were thrown to the ground, writhing as the shrapnel pierced their hides. He hit another beast with his power sword, the energy held in it crackling when it hit. He turned to swing at the beast gnawing his hip, but found that he could not move anymore. He was paralized. The beasts dragged him to the ground and everything became dark and hazy. A welcome peace came over him as he faded into unconciousness.
When Malachi awakened, he found himself strapped to a large table. His armor was gone, torn from the connectors in his chest and head. Groaning, he found that he could move, but barely. His arms and legs were chained and his head strapped. A sinister Eldar stooped over him, it's fetid breath washing over his face.
"Sssoo, Marine, you think you can ssstop usss?" It cackled.
Malachi grunted and glared at the thing. It was barely an Eldar… it's legs were braced and suspended inside a strange hover vehicle, the anti-grav unit propelling him where he wanted to go. It's clothing, or lack therof, only covered a marginal part of it's chest, the rest revealed to be infected and rotting. The machine injected him with some sort of green liquid and he drooled through partially rotted lips.
Malachi was disgusted, and his tone reflected that, "What are you?"
He smiled, his lips cracking and bleeding as he did so. Jagged, sharpened teeth filled it's mouth. "I, Marine, am known as Corom, Grand Haemonculus of the Bleeding Eye Cabal of the Dark Eldar." Spittle dripped from it's chin and landed on Malachi's chest. "And, brave Marine… who might you be?"
Malachi growled, "Brother Chaplain Malachi of the Black Templar Chapter. My name shall be on your… lips… as you die by my hand, scum."
Corom cackled. He turned away, touching the skull mask of the Eversor welded into the wall of the torture chamber. "Wonderful being, Malachi… just wonderful. I have never seen one of these in my entire two thousand years in this horrid, man infested galaxy… tell me how many of these do you have?"
"More than you have," was all Malachi answered.
Corom smiled, "I wish to have this technology. You will give it to me."
Malachi smirked, "Over my dead body, you worm infested pile of Eldar trash."
The Haemonculus glared at Malachi and drew a glistening blade from his back. "That is the general idea, Malachi… you will die. You will share your secrets with the Gods of Chaos before you are devoured."
Malachi chuckled quietly, "I think not." He muttered a silent command into his comlink.
Nickolai's vision blurred and cleared suddenly. In front of him he saw the Eldar leader advancing on Malachi. A red mist fell over his eyes and he laughed. His bodysuit gave him several injections and he roared.
Malachi savored the look on Corom's face. The assassin stirred, then roared. The metal that held him to the wall was like paper as he ripped free of his bonds. Corom turned and brought up the blade defensively, Nickolai knocking it to the ground with blinding speed. With a single punch, he caved in the side of Corom's anti-grav chair - metal that had been meant to stop the most powerful tank weapons ever created.
Nickolai tore Corom from his machine and roared again. The Haemonculus leader cried out in pain and surprise, twisting in the assassin's grasp. Nickolai crushed Corom's throat with his bare hands, then tore the Lord's head from his shoulders.
Several dark eldar burst through the door of the chamber, firing strange weapons at the assassin. One shell tore Nickolai's arm from his shoulder, but that didn't even slow him down. It made him furious. He grabbed the Eldar in a deathgrip, crushing it's ribs easily before tossing his lifeless body to the ground.
A stray shell had hit the table that Malachi was strapped to. He struggled in his bonds, and using the strength of ten normal men, he tore his arms from the chains weakened by the blast. By this time, the battle with Nickolai had gone into the hall, the death screams of Eldar echoing in the room.
Malachi ran into the hall, dispatching a single Eldar before turning, rushing down the corridor away from Nickolai's battle. The assassin was already dead. The command he had issued to the Eversor's suit was to use any means necessary to wake him up. It had. Any minute now, the chemicals that surged through Nickolai would cause him to explode - even an Eversor cannot withstand the number of injections he had received. It was just as well, however, since Nickolai has been faltering. The assassin was well over 300 years old, and he was losing effectiveness. He had issued a request for one last mission before his death.
Soon, marines rushed down the hall towards Malachi. "Sir! We've captured several of the Eldar, and bombs have been planted in the fusion engine banks. We have 5 minutes! We've been holding the Eldar off, but if we don't leave now, we're going to be caught here when the ship explodes."
Malachi nodded and ran with them, leaving the ship behind as they blasted free from it's hull. Malachi opened the com channel to Nickolai. Heavy fighting could still be heard in the background.
"Nickolai, you have done well this day. Your request for your last mission was accepted and you will die with full honors. You saved us here, but you served the Emperor far better that we could have hoped without you. Emperor save you, Brother Nickolai."
The assassin did not speak. He laughed as another one of the enemy's poisoned barbs pierced his armor. He had never felt so free as now, even with the toxins in his system flowing towards an apocalyptic detonation. Another Eldar was struck down, and the rest ran. He was on the ground now, an arm and a leg missing. He dug his adamantine claws into the hull, dragging his near lifeless body towards the fleeing men. Then, he lay there. It felt so good to just rest… he had never done so before, but he realized it was right. He was about to die. As explosions rocked the ship from below in the engine room, he slept. Finally, he was free.
******
As the Eldar ship detonated behind Malachi's own cruiser, he put his hand in the pocket of his pants. Frowning, he removed a small object that rested there. It was circular, and had a strange rune engraved in it's surface. He vaguely recognized it. It was a series of lines that formed a triangle. This triange had large horns projecting from both sides, and another line extending downwards, with arm-like lines on either side. A tail curled below this. On the bottom, in small, twisted, Eldar words was written: He, the child of Khaine, will return to have vengeance upon those who would enhabit the Crone Worlds and wreak havoc in the name of Chaos. And on the back was a set of coordinates. Malachi looked up at the navigator.
"Follow these coordinates. They must lead to either those that will help us avenge our lost brothers, or those that would destroy us themselves. The Imperium will have it's revenge… as well as the Eldar."
Malachi smiled as he looked upon the future. Soon, he would find true battle again. Nothing would stop them from having their revenge.
By Brandon Staandon