POV: Slagfist, Hive of Woe deck enforcement officer. Slagfist frowned. A few minutes earlier, the boarding alarms had gone off. The enemy had struck near the port hangar bay. He gripped his shotgun and double-checked that it was fully loaded as he descended into the corridor, his team of grunts just behind him. The first response team had gone dark. A series of shudders ran through the ship, making the dim overhead lights flicker as something near the hangar exploded, he assumed the fuel or ammunition. "Come on, you lot. The next junction is only fifty meters." He growled as he stomped ahead. Just as the junction came into view, the overhead lights went out. Something metallic thunked into the floor plate and rolled toward their position. He crouched and raised his shotgun, squinting into the darkness. What rolled out of it was the decapitated head of one of the deck crew, it still wore its voidsuit helmet, trailing a line of dark blood back into the darkness. He heard several men cock their weapons behind him as he flicked on the flashlight mounted on his gun. The beam panned along the floor, tracing the line of blood to the corner of the junction. As he watched, a mechanical, blood-soaked hand, still wet with viscera, reached around the corner, followed by the sneering pale-faced visage of a Redcap who had added to his mask a simple yet horrifying smile drawn with blood. The eyes stared at Slagfist, who pulled the trigger and held it down. The men behind him added their shots, and for a few seconds, the corridor was filled with the spray of lethal shotgun pellets. "Boss, what the frak was that!?" One of his men hissed. When everything got quiet, Slagfist started to pan his light around. "I think it was some kind of servitor," He growled as he panned the light around while moving to reload the spent shells. "Where'd it go?" Another pair of thunks echoed out, and two more heads rolled down the hall. Redcap stood in the middle of the junction unharmed. The servitor bowed mockingly at the men before it reached back to grasp its scythe with one hand. The other was twirling what looked like a small knife. A deft flick of its fingers sent the knife blade first into Slagfist's flashlight. Shattered the protective glass lens and ruined the emitter. "Shit!" He hissed, "Someone get me a light!" In the scant few seconds it took for someone to do so, the servitor silently closed the distance. When the light clicked on, that same mocking visage was right in front of Slagfist. The shimmering blade swept around, and his vision spun. His head rolled down, where it landed on the floor, looking back at his own body as it collapsed, and in his fleeting last moments, he watched as the monster deftly cut its way through his men like a farmer scything through wheat, painting the walls with their blood as they panicked, screamed, and blindly fired their weapons. The hallway grew dark as the servitor targeted the other light sources and plunged the hallway back into darkness just as the last flickering candle of his life sputtered out. —-------------------------------------------------- POV: Argent Drake Pilot, Ace Grenada "Gold Seven, this is Gold One. You've got company! Bank right!" Ace called out as he swung his fighter around on an intercept vector. They had been killing the enemy in droves, but there were always more, despite all five Fury squadrons having been deployed - a hundred Interceptors in total. The Argent Drake dove through the enemy formation like a shark through a school of startled fish. Its fighter squadrons hung tight to the vessel, avoiding the fields of fire for the macro weapons and baiting enemy craft into the kill zones for their point defenses. Despite their advantages, they were still taking losses. Each interceptor they lost was felt dearly. Their rookie squadron, Lead Dragon Squadron, had it the worst of the five, having lost six fighters. Ace's Gold Dragon squadron had one casualty, but they had managed to limp back to the Drake. Silver, Iron, and Copper Dragon squadrons had each taken at least two losses. Ace had already used all his standard missiles and was down to just his lascannons and multi-lasers, aside from the two special missiles the Princeps herself had given him. Ace adjusted his course slightly and watched as they blasted past Gold Seven and bracketed one of the enemy fighters with las fire that sent it careening away, out of control. The other craft banked away, breaking contact. "That makes nine." His gunner muttered with a hint of pride. "Thanks, Gold One" Gold Seven replied as they came back around and were about to rejoin the formation. "Gold Seven, you should head back to the Argent. Your right engine is sputtering, and you've spent your missiles. Go back. Repair and rearm." Ace said firmly. "Yes, sir" came the disappointed reply. Ace watched them go and narrowed his eyes as he checked the scanners. He caught the distant movement as a trio of enemy Apostate heavy raiders abruptly swung around, and their engines flared as they accelerated towards the Argent Drake. "Shit! Argent Drake! This is Gold One, we have raiders incoming!" Ace could tell their intentions instantly given how the trio formed up in a line formation. "They're going to try and ram!" Ace looked back and cursed, the Lance Batteries were all facing the other way. Even as the Plasma Macrocannons moved to target the lead raider, he wasn't sure it would be enough. "Launch two squadrons of bombers! Have them target the second raider!" Ace led his squadron around just as the Argent Drake fired the salvo of lethal plasma into the lead raider, overwhelming its void shield and perforating it. The ship was drifting dead, but it had done its job blocking for the other two vessels that were still accelerating. The two squadrons of bombers were joined by two more from the other side of the ship as both hangars launched them at once. The forty bombers immediately angled for an attack run on the second ship while their fighters escorted them in. The Macros would take time to reload and fire. Ace banked around in a circle, watching as the rain of bombs wrecked the second raider. The bombers, having spent their load to knock it out, turned to retreat towards the Argent Drake, but the third vessel charged right past its dead companion. Ace had but a moment to make the critical decision. "They're not going to make it. Gold Two, you have the squadron! Cover me!" Ace called out, having no time to explain as he slammed on the throttle and flew towards the incoming raider. Ace mentally reviewed what he knew about the enemy vessel. 'The bridge should be there.' Ace tensed as the raider grew large. incoming sporadic fire from the raider's point defenses chased him around but he evaded. Skimming along the dorsal of the hull like he had in the race simulation. Ace subsumed himself in the MIU link with the Interceptor, cutting out the concerned exclamations from his squadron. Ace knew he was well within their void shield envelope. He painted the bridge with his targeting software and waited until it was practically impossible to miss before he launched both missiles. Ace banked away, gritting his teeth as the g-forces pushed him back into his chair. Even with the extreme maneuvering, they nearly got clipped by a lucky laser shot. Just behind him, the two missiles impacted the spot just above and below the bridge and detonated spectacularly. The two cyclonic weapons vaporized the entire bridge spire in a brilliant flash of white. The resultant explosion nearly engulfed his fleeing fighter, and only the flickering void shield of the enemy vessel containing the explosion managed to prevent the edge of it from clipping them. Ace suddenly recalled the Princeps' warning. "Warning! Do not use in danger close range, or short range! You will die!" Ace winced and resolved not to doubt the Princeps again. The Raider, bereft of a bridge and helm, continued on its last chosen vector, allowing the Argent Drake to barely avoid a collision. The Raider spewed atmosphere from the large scoop-shaped section of the upper hull that was just missing from the ship, along with the entire bridge spire. "This is Gold One, we are RTB to rearm and refuel." "Ace…" His gunner called up to him with a huff. "That voidship kill still only counts as one!" —----------------------------------------------------- POV: Abdimidoz Razorscale, Noise Champion of the Emperor's Children Abdimidoz strode down the corridor. It had taken them longer than anticipated to rouse their ancient brother, Ramiel Kaldill, in his dreadnought. Now the howl of his symphony could be heard behind them as they made their way to the warp portal. Abdimidoz sneered under his helmet. He noticed the frantic nature of the other Astartes as they tried to move men and material through the portal. "How unclouth." He scoffed and shook his head as he hefted his doom siren. Behind him, his twenty noise marines and brother Ramiel walked, a chorus of noise heralded their arrival. "You're late!" Shouted one of the Scourged captains. "You lot need to get through the portal now!" "We arrived precisely when we meant to. Why are you in such a hurry? I was told this portal would be stable for as long as necessary." Abdimidoz hissed. "The daemon we summoned for the deed deceived us. The portal is stable but not going to stay anchored. Frak! It's shifting! Everyone go go go!" he yelled and charged the portal. Abdimidoz sighed but broke into a jog. "Chorus! To me!" He roared, and the warband moved in. Several other squads were also sprinting for the portal. Just as the captain was passing through, the portal flickered, and the scene on the other side changed. Half of the Scourged captain's body flopped through the other side of the portal, cleanly bisected. Abdimidoz pitied the man for a moment before he crossed over; his momentum carried him several steps into the rather large open space. Abdimidoz looked around and froze. Rather than the fortified position that their allies had secured, it was immediately apparent he had just walked into a kill zone. Gun emplacements hung from the ceiling and the walls. Across the room from them was a control station with several tech priests - the control station was the only piece of cover. Worse, there was an entire force arrayed opposite them. A small army of ancient Automata, Loyalist Astartes, and Skitarii had their weapons raised towards them. The enemy even had a dreadnought! They were in a defensive pattern around a small red-robed tech priest. Abdimidoz had moments to take stock of his twenty noise marines, and Ramiel were not the only troops that had crossed over, another thirty or so Scourged had done, with more coming in behind them. The enemy forces looked surprised, but there was only a brief pregnant pause as both sides hesitated. "Hello there." Came a soft, high-pitched voice from the loyalist side. Abdimidoz was surprised when, out of everyone who replied, it was Brother Ramiel's booming voice. "Do my sensors deceive me? Is that little Baldos?!" Ramiel laughed loudly, the sound echoed hauntingly throughout the chamber. "It looks like you got tired of the dull silver and black? You look good in blue! I haven't seen you since… Istvan." Ramiel purred. "Still missing those limbs I took? No need for you to lose your head." Abdimidoz's sensitive ears picked up a creaking sound. "Ra-Mi-El!" The loyalist dreadnought howled furiously. —----------------------------------------------------- POV: Farseer Anvial, the Starlight's Ghost He stared out the bridge viewport at the absolute carnage as the two fleets engaged one another. This was no graceful, tactful duel between fleets. One side was an unrelenting wave seeking to overwhelm the defenders with sheer numbers, while the defenders fought with the ferocity of an Exodite dragon beast protecting its nest. The center line of defenders was crumpling as they wore down the system ships and battered the Halo. However, the flanking pincer attacks from the Argent Drake and Purest Shadow devastated the attacking forces. The defenders seemed to be enduring, for now. Having slipped behind the main enemy line, it was time for the Starlight's Ghost to get involved. His target was the hideous beacon of warp energy, the enemy's proto Silver Tower. "Discharge the sonic torpedoes! Pulsar Lances cripple their point defenses. Bombard these foul vermin of chaos into oblivion!" He ordered even as he turned back to the tactical display, trying to feel the threads of fate. As they continued their attack on the tower, Anvial felt a massive disturbance in the weave as some form of grand foul sorcery was enacted. Anvial winced as the weave was not touched on but yanked and forced. His eyes widened as he realized what the enemy had done. "Oh no." —----------------------------------------------------- I certainly wasn't expecting a warp portal to pop up in the middle of the Teleportarium and for a small horde of traitor Astartes to pour out of it. I am pretty sure I can feel Baldos and my escorts judging me. It is not my fault! Probably? Maybe. I scan the enemy troops. A full host of Noise Marines with their hideous, ugly sonic weapons and even a sonic dreadnought. Thankfully, the enemy is just as surprised to see us as we are to see them. As everyone raises their weapons and takes aim, I can't help but chime in, "Hello there." I did not expect the enemy dreadnought to recognize and then start taunting Baldos. Despite having most of my dampeners on, I can sense the seething mountain of pure rage and hate coming from Baldos' sarcophagus. So I am not too surprised when he breaks into a sprint, charging straight at the enemy Dreadnaught. Uncaring of the twenty enemy astartes between him and his foe. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. "I'll fucking kill you! You backstabbing traitor bastard!" Baldos screams, blaring his war horn like a lumbering train of death. I command the Automata to open fire. The Darkfire Heavy Photon Thruster Cannon from my lead Castellax Automata scythes through the clumped enemy ranks. I notice that the beam passes through the portal, striking a wall on the other side. "Delta-A3, you may open fire. Try to keep the beam aimed towards that portal." I watch as Delta hefts the Conversion Beamer and fires the weapon. The thin beam of antimatter strikes the first Noise Marine in the chest. The stream of antimatter particles impact the ceramite, and the matter-antimatter reaction triggers. The pure energy explosion it releases removes the torso before the beam continues toward the next enemy. The beam creeps slowly towards the portal through one enemy at a time. The enemy takes note of Delta-A3 and directs a considerable number of guns his way. In response, I move the Domitar to cover him without impeding his line of fire. An absolute deluge of bolter rounds assault the enemy forces from all sides as the chamber's defensive turrets join in. Adding their fire with the Star Dragon's devastators, the sisters, and my Automata. Despite the overwhelming fire the enemy fights back, the howling of sonic weapons blasts out along with sporadic enemy bolter fire. There is a titanic crash as Baldos charges and plows through the enemy lines, batting aside enemy Astartes with his arms as he ignores all the incoming fire. He doesn't stop until he slams into the enemy dreadnought with enough force to send the enemy careening backwards through the portal as he tackles him. The pair start to exchange blows viciously, Baldos with his combat weapons and the enemy with their chainfist. "Baldos!" I yell as he vanishes from view. Growling, I draw my Wrath and aim at one of the Astartes. The bolt of plasma blows a hole through the head of the enemy. "We need to support Baldos. Kill them all!" I command my protection detail. I unleash the Vorax and let them charge into the fray. —----------------------------------------------------- Long-buried memories bubbled to the forefront of his mind. The pain. The shame, the great loss. The one individual he had never hoped to see ever again had appeared. The traitor, the betrayer, the backstabber, the enemy. Ramiel. Baldos remembered his voice, still cocky and taunting. He could still see that smug face leering down at him as he laid on the ground bereft of his leg and arm. Letting him watch as his brothers fell around him. Baldos felt little aside from an all-consuming fury. Nothing mattered besides himself and his most hated foe. With every fiber of his being, he wanted nothing more than to see Ramiel ripped limb from limb. Baldos hadn't hesitated to charge straight in, laser-focused on Ramiel. He ignored the rest. They were inconsequential obstacles best ignored. Baldos's bulk smashed and broke them as he tackled his foe with enough force and momentum to buckle the thick armour plates adjacent to their sarcophagi. Baldos roared as he grabbed and carried Ramiel back through the portal and smashed him into the closest object, which turned out to be one of the large stone ritual pillars. The pillar exploded, and Baldos stomped forward. Ramiel tumbled and skidded away from him. Baldos flexed his clawed hands, he tossed the metal he had ripped off of Ramiel away. His scanners detected movement around him, and soon after a few bolt rounds bounced off his armour. Baldos did not know how long Ramiel had been entombed in a dreadnought, though Baldos was certain it was less time than his own. "Get. Up" Baldos growled as Ramial lurched to his feet. Baldos scoffed as his foe acted predictably. The sonic blasters fired as he closed again. A salvo of bolt rounds silenced the foul weapons mounted on his hull. The larger arm-mounted weapons met his clawed fist. He ignored the damage it inflicted as he clamped down and twisted. He left the weapon sundered and sparking, the noise cutting off as he did so. "Quiet." The chain fist from Ramiel struck out and scored a gash across his torso and sarcophagus. Baldos sneered as his foe targeted the heaviest armoured location. His rebuttal was a wicked right hook to Ramiel's shoulder joint. Baldos's was fire and fury made manifest. He was no berserker, he settled into a machine-like calm, the fury still simmering. He would not let it consume him. He was controlled. Baldos's movements were systematic, each strike a calculated trade to maximize damage to his foe. Baldos kept going, unflinching, unstoppable, unending in his strength. "Where is your banter now, traitor?" Baldos struck again. He slammed one of Ramiel's legs and left him limping when something buckled. "You used to be a duelist." Baldos doggedly pursued as Ramiel retreated. His next blow was interrupted by an interceding Astartes. Baldos growled and left the traitor a crumpled corpse smeared across the marble floor. "Out of the way, chaff." Ramiel was yelling for a Tech Marine. He ducked behind a pillar, forcing Baldos to maneuver. Baldos was forced to gun down two more Emperor's Children. His enhanced frame allowed him to keep pace, but barely. Each life carelessly thrown against him slowed him for fractions of a second. Baldos watched one of the vile sorcerers skittered behind Ramiel's fleeing bulk. Moments later, the foul purple glow of sorcery encompassed his foe and some of the wounds he had inflicted were undone. "You want to be a coward, Ramiel?!" Blados blared, "Fine. We'll see which runs out first, my rage or your foul minions!" —----------------------------------------------------- POV: Star Dragons, Captain Bolaar Bolaar stepped forward over the corpses of the unfortunate pirates. "Another bulkhead." He called out. Within moments, one of the other terminators pulled out a series of melta charges and attached them to one of the few remaining barriers blocking their route to the bridge. The charges detonated and blasted straight through, leaving a glowing hole big enough for the Dreadnoughts to pass through. The moment he cleared the opening, his armour registered impacts and incoming fire from the troops that had amassed further down the corridor. Most deflected off the field of his Halo, but the few that slipped through plinked off the thick plate of his Terminator suit. Bolaar stepped into the streams of fire, raised his arms, and returned fire. Bolaar stepped past a trio of heavy weapons that could have posed an issue. Unfortunately for the Lascannon team, Brother Silverfury in his Contemptor Dreadnought was right behind Baldos. His form lumbered forward, and his multi-melta vaporized the team. The autocannon and heavy stubber teams continued to pour fire into their advance, along with the pirate crew using lasguns, autoguns, shotguns, and even a handful of bolters. The lumbering form of Brother Solantar's Ironclad charged to the fore, getting within range to trigger his Frag Assault Launcher, which devastated the infantry with an unstoppable wave of shrapnel. "Clear." Solantar announced as he kicked the molten remains of the Lascannon and some of the portable barriers out of the way. The last door separating them from the bridge loomed in front of them. The secure door was nearly twice as thick as the previous dozen they had cleared. Wading through waves of pirate defenders, minor traps, and the occasional corrupted mutant had taken them an hour, but they had finally arrived. "Let's not keep them waiting." Bolaar growled as he waved the team forward and let the Astartes start piling on the remaining melta charges. Even through the door, the advanced sensors on his suit picked up faint sounds from the bridge. The sound of frantic screaming and panicked demands echoed over the local Vox network. The charges were set. Bolaar looked around and nodded. "On my mark. The captain is mine." Bolaar closed his eyes and took a moment to offer a prayer to the emperor. He pushed his sense of immersion with his suit deeper than he ever had before, and as his eyes snapped open, time seemed to slow. "Mark!" The melta charges detonated, reducing the bulkhead to molten slag. Bolaar stepped forward even as the shockwave dispersed around them. He took in the bridge, seeing the captain cowering behind the command throne. The bridge crew had weapons trained on the door. It didn't help them, they were so slow. Bolaar aimed and fired at three separate targets before they had even recovered from the flash of the explosion. Bolaar continued to calmly stride forward as additional shots from his brothers right behind him slaughtered the mortal crewmen. Bolaar watched the fear sink into the pirate captain, Vox Nightscream's face. He fired his pistol at Bolaar, but the shots plinked off his Iron Halo. As he closed, the pirate swung a power blade. Bolaar backhanded the cretin's wrist which shattered and sent the sword clattering to the floor. Bolaar used his other hand to reach behind and yank out the thick cable connecting the scum to the command throne. He ignored Vox's screaming as he leaned down to make direct eye contact with the feeble man. "Do you know who I am?" Bolaar asked through his external speakers. Behind him, his brothers secured the bridge and ensured the crew were all dealt with. "How the frak should I know!?" Vox sputtered. Bolaar reached down and carefully grabbed the pirate's bicep and twisted, inflicting a horrific spiral fracture and rendering the arm holding the sidearm useless. "My name is Captain Bolaar of the Star Dragon's Ninth company. Formerly of the Hollow Star." Vox's eyes bugged out frothing at the mouth as he trembled, "Fuck you, corpse worshiper!" Bolaar backhanded him across the face, knocking several teeth out. "Captain, Bridge secure!" A voice called out from behind him. Bolaar growled. "Turn their point defenses and guns on the closest enemy vessel. See if you can overload the reactor from here. If not, pilot a collision course with the space hulk. Drop their void shields as well." He said before using one of his boots to stomp down and crush one of Vox's feet, grabbing the man by the hair to hold his head up. "For what you have done to my brothers, our clutch, and our allies. You die slow." ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ novelꜰire.net Vox coughed, and blood ran from his broken nose in rivulets. He suddenly flinched and then started to laugh as one of the chaos tattoos on his neck began to glow ominously. "Aha, haha! You are too late, Space Marine! It seems my use has finally come to an end. My master holds my leash, and he has come to collect!" He smiled a broken, bloody grin with a crazed look in his eyes. His eyes rolled back, and he convulsed before he slumped down and screaming as he crumpled, the chaos mark burning hot and then crumpled into ash as the foul sorcery consumed his body and soul. The hairs on the back of Bolaar's neck stood up as his sixth sense for danger, honed from hundreds of years of combat, went wild. "Captain!" Screamed one of his men. "The warp core! We need to leave NOW!" "Argent Drake, this is Captain Bolaar! Requesting immediate emergency teleport recall!" —--------------------------------------------------------- POV: Transmaterium Magi, Lord Eligael Eligael sighed as he examined the display that hovered in front of him. "What do you see when you look at this readout?" He asked placidly his arrayed advisors. There was a pregnant pause before the boldest of their group spoke up, "Sir, we're losing." He said stiffly. "While we are close to breaching their formation and assaulting the station, our flanks are collapsing, and the xenos vessel has snuck past our lines and is attacking the silver tower." Eligael stared at the man who bowed his head. He nodded. "I concur. This situation is untenable. The resistance here has proven far more capable than my highest expectations. So, what shall we do about it?" He asked, scanning the faces of his loyal but confused underlings. Eligael couldn't help but chuckle in amusement. "Ahh. This feeling. The feeling of adversity, of struggle, I had nearly forgotten it. This is a true challenge suitable for my ascension. I shall enlighten you. We stop playing their game." Eligael said as he lifted a hand, and a series of glowing runes appeared as he flexed his psychic abilities. "Tell the fleet to prepare and launch all assault boats. If they survive, they are worthy, if not, well, they will still harry our foes." The crackling aura of energy enveloped Eligael as the runes locked into place. A familiar rune mark hovered in front of the men. "Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine souls. Is the price I must pay for a single pluck at the strings of fate. I pay it thrice." Across the fleet, nearly thirty thousand individuals bearing that mark screamed and crumpled to ash. A manic grin formed on his face as the digits of his left hand shuddered and extended as he reached out. "Watch, with just a minor manipulation of fate." He plucked at three invisible strings. The ethereal skein rippled and shuddered as time seemed to freeze for a brief moment. Across the fleet, three vessels were in the midst of being defeated. The Sky Scourer, an Idolator, and an Infidel raider had their fates twisted. They would not become hunks or wrecks, instead, all of their warp cores suffered containment failures and detonated simultaneously. Eligael looked out as the bridge was bathed in the red light of the warp as three seething holes in space, a trio of maelstroms into the realm of chaos spawned. Several of the nearby raiders and system ships were engulfed and sucked into the roiling rifts. Mass possessions and manifesting of daemons flooded into realspace in mass. "With this, I have flipped the board."