Waaagh Meckenheim

[Friddel]

Part 32

The Kill-team shot down Pelucidar's gravity well, falling like bricks. "Torvald, spread out your limbs. Everyone, move into formation" ordered Xerxes over the vox-net. The Marines complied, spreading their limbs to gain maximum surface area. "Check your altimeters. When we hit 1,000, activate the grav-shutes" said the Deathwatch Captain, watching as the flickering digits clocked down on his visor. "Punch it!" he ordered, pushing the button mounted on his belt. The whine of jet engines could be heard over the roar of the wind, jolting Xerxes out of his dive. The ground rushed up before him, and then he landed. His power armour and augmented skeleton absorbed most of the shock, as he knelt to take the rest of the momentum through his muscles. In seconds, the others landed around him, weapons already loaded and aimed. Their grav-shute packs fell off, dull clunks sounding as they detached.

"Do not engage unless fired upon" ordered Xerxes, shouldering his bolter, "com silence from here on in". The Kill-team set off, the Marines making good time through the rubble. Xerxes consulted his auspex feed on his visor display, even as he scanned the surrounds. He halted the team with a gesture, turning to them. He held up one gauntlet, flexing it twice, then holding up three fingers. The others nodded, Deja moving to cover on flank, Fabian and Torvald in close support. Crucio hefted his plasma gun, crouch-running along the opposite flank, Morghast following. Xerxes sighed, before stepping out into the open, his weapons lowered.

The click of chambering bolts greeted him, as Justicar Weiss and his Grey Knights emerged to confront the Deathwatch Captain. "Stand down, heretic. Tell your squad to emerge from hiding as well" ordered the Justicar, aiming his storm bolter at Xerxes. Xerxes holstered his bolter slowly, before reaching up to his helmet. "Order them from cover, Captain. I will not ask a second time" growled Weiss, sweeping his force halbered before him. Detaching his helmet, Xerxes locked eyes with the Justicar. "You would take up arms, brother, against another in the service of the Inquisition?" he asked quietly. "You are no brethren of mine, Dark Angel. You are in the service of a heretic, which makes you a traitor. Stand down" ordered Weiss firmly. Xerxes laughed harshly, no trace of humor on his features. "I thought you were only going to ask me once" he said.

Weiss opened fire, but the Captain was already moving. His power sword flickered to life, as his bolter came up. His first shot lodged itself in the barrel of a stormbolter, blasting the barrels apart. Weiss switched to his force halberd, as the rest of the squad moved to engage at close quarters. Xerxes parried and swung, lopping the limbs from one unfortunate Grey Knight. The others hit back, their consecrated blades augmenting their strength. Xerxe's felt the humming blade of the Justicar narrowly miss his face, tearing a strip of ceramite from his shoulder plate with ease. He spun and fired his bolter at point blank range into the back of the Justicar's head. Weiss was pitched forward, but his Aegis armour held. Xerxes backed up, letting the rest of the Kill-team engage. Deja riddled the legs of one Grey Knight. The others fought on, undaunted as Crucio began to fire. His plasma struck the backpack of Justicar Weiss, freezing his armour. The warrior struggled against his immobile suit, but could do nothing as Xerxes engaged the rest of the squad.

The Deathwatch Captain felt a blade piece his shoulder armour, ripping through the flexible join. Ignoring the pain, he drew the blade deeper, before snapping it off. The Grey Knight simply switched tactics, using the halberd now as a polearm. Xerxes sliced it in half with his power sword, before kicking his opponent down. He spun and caught a flurry of psycannon rounds, as the Grey Knight specialist attemped to bring him down. Xerxes ran at the Grey Knight, cutting the weapon in two before striking at a weak point in the abdomen with the butt of his bolter. The warrior doubled over in reflex, trying to regain his poise. Xerxes was on him before he could rise, shouldering the Grey Knight into two of his brothers.

"Enough, Captain" came a harsh voice from behind him. He levelled his bolter at the sound, as something jet-black and fast moving darted from cover. In seconds, the death-cult assassin was in combat, dissecting Xerxe's power armour even as he tried to parry. Cutting the tendons in his legs, the assassin darted back into the shadows. The Deathwatch Captain fell to his knees, unable to get up. Heavy footsteps came from behind him, before a familiar weapon nudged his throat. "None can escape the Emperor's judgement, heretic. Tell your squad to surrender" ordered Weiss, no trace of anger or emotion in his voice. "Kill-team, stand down. We have failed" said Xerxes bitterly.

From the edge of the system, Malak watched as the Marines emerged from cover, weapons held low in surrender. Stormtroopers hurriedly slapped manacles on the squad, as others removed their weapons. He felt a twinge of amusement as Torvald stared down one Stormtrooper, attempting to take his powerfist. Only when Inquisitor Karamazov emerged and gave him a direct order did the Space Wolf relinquish his weapon, deatching it from his powerpack. A Thunderhawk bearing the mark of the Ordo Hereticus landed nearby. The Grey Knights escorted the Kill-team aboard, storm bolters and force weapons held at the ready. The Stormtroopers swept the surrounds for any other enemies, but Malak's Lictor evaded them all. Karamazov impatiently ordered them aboard. As the gunship began to lift off, the Lictor spat a microscopic pellet onto the wing. The tiny fungus quickly assimilated the colour and mineral composition of the surrouding ceramite, shielding the small core from Imperial sensors.

The Ordo Xenos Inquisitor shifted his concentration, revelling in the exquisite control afforded to him by the synapse network. He found the faint signature of Neophyte Wiell. The cortex leech fed new signals to the aspiring Black Templar. The Crusade squad had returned to their base of operations, a small encampment close to the ruins of Hive Belkan. He sent the Neophyte to the rear of the camp, towards the command centre. The entranced Wiell knelt in the shadows, close enough for his augmented hearing to pick out the conversation and vox-casts inside.

"As you can see, Castellan, the Orks are in full retreat. Where they have gone is a mystery to us" said a deep voice. "Thank you, Captain, that will be all". Heavy footsteps lead away from the bunker, before the door opened. The Neophyte curled into a ball, his black carapace armour concealing him as light spilled out into the night. The door closed behind the Captain, as Folkert spoke again. "Chaplain, the Sword Brethren have found nothing in that wasteland. No Orks, not even a single booby trap. Not a sign of the Tyranid either, which raises a disturbing possibility" he said. "If the hive fleet has already absorbed the greenskins, then the Emperor's work has been made easier, Castellan. I fail to see how this is a problem" said Grenfell. "Reclusiarch, the greenskins landed in vast numbers, equalling the Tyranid swarms. They wrested control from the PDF, the Chaos cultist and the Tyranids, and were on the verge of overruning this hive. Our forces have had no noticeable impact on the conflict here."

"I concur with the Captains, Castellan. If the enemy has relinquished this city, we should take the open ground while it remains uncontested." Folkert sighed. "I agree, Chaplain, but I cannot shake the feeling there is some unseen force upon this world. We advance tonight, so a command post is ready by morning. Tomorrow, the banner of the Black Templars will fly in the heart of this city" he said. "I have no doubt our crusade will achieve that, Castellan. Blessed be Dorn and Him on Terra" he recited. "Blessed be Dorn and Him on Terra" repeated Folkert. Both Marines left the bunker to organise the crusade. Neophyte Wiell kept the shadows, until he rejoined his squad. "Brother, do not stray into the desert again" barked Initiate Morias. "I cannot teach you the ways of the Chapter if you become distracted. Quickly now, the Captain has ordered us to the reclaim the city" he added, as the squad broke into a run. Malak sent the cortex leech to sleep again, letting the confused Wiell take full control of his body again.

[Friddel]

Part 33

Inquisitor Lord Karamazov regarded Captain Xerxes as the giant Dark Angel sat in his cell. The Inquisitor knew that if he wanted to, the Marine could eat his way through the bars and leave, as could all the others. However, none of them had attempted a breakout. "Captain, Inquisitor Malak is a wanted heretic. If you will not co-operate, I see no reason to keep you alive" he stated coldly. Xerxes locked eyes with Karamazov, a dark smile on his face. "I am a Deathwatch Captain, my Lord. Your empty threats cannot change the facts; I am only here to await representatives from the Ordo Xenos. Once they arrive..." Karamazov cut the Marine off mid-sentence, anger flashing in his eyes. "The Lords of the Ordo Hereticus are granted the power to investigate and detain other members of the Inquisition, that I can assure you. If your Order attempts to obstruct the Emperor's will..." Xerxes's smile widened, and his eyes flashed. "You would not only violate the sovereignty of another Order, you would also face the ire of the Adeptus Astartes." Karamazov let out a bark of harsh laughter. "A heretic is a heretic, Captain. Not all of your order are radicals like Malak, and I do not need to remind you of what your own Chapter would think" he said quietly, a dangerous edge to his voice. Xerxes leaned back, totally unafraid. "As the Emperor my judge, I have committed no heresy. Do as you will my Lord, but know that your actions are not without dire consequences." The Ordo Hereticus Lord snorted derisively. "You know better than to threaten me, Captain. The only dire consequences will be your burning corpse on a stake." Karamazov swept out of the room, leaving an unimpressed Xerxes to ponder his situation. Suddenly, his vox-bead burst to life. "Captain Xerxes? Please respond, this is Sergeant Hagen."

On the Mako, Hagen ran for his life. Around him, the squads embattled Stormtroopers that remained stopped and started. Rear-guard squads leapfrogged, laying down a constant stream of hellgun and plasma pulses. Three leering, warp-corrupted creatures pursued them, chunks blown from their bodies as they advanced. "Hagen, we have to reach the cells! Ask for the over-ride codes!" shouted one of the squad leaders, downing one of the Chaos spawn with his bolt pistol. Hagen nodded, keeping up a steady stream of shotgun shells into the second beast, as plasma finally killed the third. "Captain, we need the over-ride codes to the cells. Without the Enginseer we can't escape" he said. The calm, deep voice of Xerxes sounded in his ear. "I understand. Get to the right-most turbo-lift, once you are inside I'll send you an encrypted data package." Hagen relayed the information to the others, as the tortured yelps of more Spawn echoed down the hallway. They reached the turbo-life in time, all four squads piling in. The lift doors sealed. "We're in" said Hagen. He pulled a fibre-optic cable from his helmet, jacking into the interface. The lift dropped, as they sped into the bowels of the ship.

On the Righteous Purgation, Xerxes spoke again. "What happened, soldier? Where is the Inquisitor?" he demanded. "Malak is dead, Captain." The static at the other end was loud over the silence that descended. "That is unfortunate. Whom are you running from?" he asked finally. "Chaos Spawn. The Astropath turned traitor, tried to corrupt us too. We lost several squads escaping the bridge, and then he..." Hagen paused, stifling a wave of revulsion, as the others shuddered around him. "What is it?" snapped Xerxes. "He corrupted the dead into spawn, Captain. Send them after us as we ran. We suspect the Astropath isn't the only one, however. We watched him talk to someone else through the warp. I suspect its Kalis." Xerxes pondered this, before he replied. "Use the Enginseer to get to the Thunderhawk. If you don't leave quickly, they may attempt to flee into the warp" he said calmly. Hagen felt a wave of dread overcome him. The turbo-lift slowed, as the doors opened. The Stormtroopers spread out, their helmets filtering through the darkness. "I will have to break contact now, Hagen. Their cell is the third from the end" said Xerxes, breaking the vox-link.

Lord Karamazov re-entered the cell, several Sisters of Battle forming a guard around him. "It seems your saviour has arrived, Captain" he said sarcastically, "Lord Reynaard was most insistent that you be released." The Dark Angel raised himself to his full height, towering over the Sisters and Karamazov. "Best not to keep him waiting then, my Lord" he said with equal sincerity. The Sisters gave the huge Marine a wide berth, bolters held at port arms. As they walked past the other cells the other Marines fell into formation, more Sororitas moving to flank them. They entered the turbo-lift, rising five decks before moving down yet more corridors. Eventually they reached a docking bay, a Thunderhawk bearing the mark of the Ordo Xenos waiting. Lord Reynaard stood alone, a scowl across his features. "I won't ask next time, Karamazov, I'll just order them to return. Consider this an act of generosity" he snapped, clearly impatient. The Ordo Hereticus Lord regarded his opposite number coolly. "I'll thank you not to meddle in the Emperor's holy work again, Lord Reynaard."

The Ordo Xenos Lord ignored this barb, turning to the assembled Kill-team. "Get aboard the Thunderhawk, much has transpired while you were enjoying the hospitality of the Witch-hunters." Torvald snorted. "I don't know, my Lord. Some of the Sororitas were certainly..." Reynaard silenced the Space Wolf with a look. Once they were all seated, the Thunderhawk took off. As they sped through space, Reynaard began to check his ornamental bolt pistol carefully. "I know about Malak, my Lord. Sergeant Hagen has survived however, but is still trapped on the Mako" he said. "That ship has to be destroyed, Captain. With Malak's death forces have been unleashed, forces that threaten not just one world" he said gravely, activating the energy field on his power sword. "With respect, my Lord, Malak built the defences to be impassable. If it has been over-run, the traitors are quite safe" he stated simply. "Aren't there failsafes, codes that must be entered?" asked Reynaard. Xerxes shook his head. "Glavius is a psyker, he could have easily read such things from the warp through scrying. We must assume they have control" replied the Deathwatch Captain.

"We could teleport aboard" suggested Torvald suddenly. All present turned to him, surprised at the Space Wolf's willingness. "I'll be damned before I let some cowardly Chaos pawn take that ship. If Kalis wants it, he'll have to fight for it" he growled, flexing his reclaimed powerfist. "Well-said, brother, but Glavius will see us coming. He could scatter us across space and time at will" countered Deja. Xerxes spoke up. "Its too risky. We'll have to sacrifice the Thunderhawk and conduct a space drop." "With respect, Captain, that's suicide. Malak built point defence cannons into every spare metre of hull. No blind spots, no cover. The Emperor designed our armour to be impregnable to small arms, not defence cannon shells" said Crucio, gesturing to their power armour. "So we use the Thunderhawk as our drop pod. Below a certain incline the cannons can't reach us. We'll insert near the engine cluster at the rear, where the fire arcs overlap least" replied Xerxes, bringing up a three-dimensional wireframe of the corvette. A blinking red rune indicated their insertion point, near a cluster of sensor pods.

Lord Reynaard nodded slowly. "Impossible odds, but I have gotten used to watching the Astartes pull off miracles" he said, a faint smile on his face. Xerxes motioned to the squad to prepare their weapons and armour, as the Thunderhawk accelerated. "Inquisitor, where will you be?" he asked. "On this ship, Captain. No one gave you license to blow it up, and I have yet to see a vessel destroy this one. Malak was smart but not all Thunderhawks are alike" he said cryptically. Xerxes sighed, but accepted the Inquisitor's decision. "We'll deploy through the frontal assault ramp, the de-compression should propel us towards the hull. Ave Imperator!" he shouted, and the squad replied in kind. "I don't think you Space Marines need luck, so all I will say is, may the Emperor watch over you" said Reynaard over the vox-link. "And you, Inquisitor. Malak will need you before this is over" he said. He cut the vox-link, switching to the squad channel. "Torvald, we will need your powerfist to breach the hull. Crucio will weaken it first with his meltagun" he said, as the Blood Angel retrieved the weapon from the gunship's armoury. The others had already equipped themselves with bolt pistols and chainswords, Deja hefting a flamer unit.

The Thunderhawk sped towards the underside of the Mako, its engines glowing orange exhaust. "On my mark, Captain. Even if you don't get inside, attach the locator. Without that we won't even have its location" ordered Reynaard. Xerxes acknowledged with a green status rune, as Fabian attached the bulky device to his thigh. The magnetic clamps secured it, as the Raptor checked his bolt pistol one last time. "The turbo-laser will drop the shield for a very short window, Captain. Your timing must be exact" said Reynaard, anxiety palpable in his voice. Again, the stoic Xerxes acknowledged this with a green status rune on the display. The Ordo Xenos Lord felt the Thunderhawk pitch around him, as it evaded incoming fire. The whine of the plasma generator behind him grew, vibrating the Inquisitor and the servitor-pilots as the turbo-laser discharged. An electric-blue lance of focused photons punched a small hole in the Mako's shield, as the assault ramp blasted open. All the air in the transport bay rushed out, propelling the Kill-team at hundreds of meters per second. The Thunderhawk peeled off, lascannons blasting the hole open again as the generators attempted to seal it off.

The Marines barely made it through, the Captain ushering them through before pivoting and pulling his legs through. They continued towards the hull, bracing as they impacted. Servos whined and their enhanced bones shook as they absorbed the impact, their dense muscles taking the rest. The Marine's anchored themselves with their magnetic boot-soles, slowly traversing the hull. Reaching a servitor hatch, Crucio knelt. The pyrum-petrol blast made no sound or heat as it burned a charred hole in the hull, the dead cold of space cooling the weapon instantly. Torvald drew back his powerfist, the deadly weapon crackling with energies as it rammed into the weakened adamantine plate. Getting a grip, the Space Wolf pulled with all of his considerable strength, ripping the hatch off. Atmosphere vented and almost blew Torvald off the Mako, only his magnetic boots and superhuman reflexes saving him. Xerxes sent Crucio and Fabian into the hole, following as soon as they gave the all-clear signal.

[Friddel]

Part 34

Hagen and the other Stormtroopers swept the cell area, disabling cameras with low-power hellgun bursts. The cameras remained intact, but the flash of photons totally ruined their pict-capture systems, dissolving into static. "Sergeant, are you still at the cells?" came a calm voice over the vox-link. "Yes, Captain. We are still extracting the Mechanicus personnel" replied Hagen, as one of the Stormtroopers used a meltagun to bore a hole in the thick ceramite shielding. Cutting a circular hole, the trooper kicked it in. From the dark hole, the robed form of Enginseer Corom fell out, a dozen hellguns covering him. The other Skittari soon followed. "Hagen, you will need to get to the landing bay. The Thunderhawk is still where Malak left it, yes?" asked Xerxes. "Yes, Captain. We'll meet you there" he replied, as they small group set off.

A pair of dark eyes watched them from the darkness, probing them. Corom showed up as a shining figure of light in the Culexus's vision, blotting out the others. The leader, Hagen, had a dark void in the place of his soul. The Assassin cocked its head, curious. It watched as faint tendrils of warp energy still present in Hagen system evapourated, drawn into the maw. The Culexus remembered its mission, moving on. Its master had promised more prey, but only if it completed its first assignment. It silently slipped past the group, dropping down to a single cell. Drawing a small silver blade, the Culexus swiped at the lock. The phase blade parted the metal at the atomic level, cleanly slicing through with no rough edges or jagged clumps. The Assassin opened the door, revealing the restrained, unconcious form of Magos Belkan. It swung the door shut, sealing the pair in.

The Magos stirred, the animal part of his brain sensing the void of the Culexus. "Free me" he ordered hoarsely. The Assassins deftly cut the bonds, releasing the Magos. Belkan coughed up a wad of blood, but his rage gave him strength. "Take me to it" he ordered again. The Assassin produced several small obsidian objects, placing them in a defined pattern. A flicker of green energy ran between the seven pieces, as a portal opened up. Belkan staggered through, the Culexus shutting down the portal as soon as he had left. Retrieving the objects, it jammed a modified data-slate into a nearby terminal.

Several hundred meters above, Xerxes reached the Inquisitor's quarters. He tapped in a complicated code to the datapad mounted on a hidden panel. The door opened, the whining of arming weapons following the team as they entered. The messages sent from the team's power armour displayed the heardly and clearance codes of the Ordo Xenos, disabling the turrets. As Crucio and Deja placed melta charges, Fabian and Torvald stood on guard at the door, bolters at the shoulder. Morghast began to dismantle the room's data-codex, packing it into a trolley. Xerxes confiscated the alien artifacts, distributing them among the team. Torvald took the Eldar witchblade with some disgust, but sheathed it. "Stay fast, only engage what stand in your way. Ave Imperator" he said. The others responded in kind, readying themselves.

Astropath Galvius watched as several figures stepped out of the warp portal. Fashioned from the bodies of the dead crew, their contorted forms writhed as pure warp energy flowed through them. The first figure to emerge was huge, a power-armoured giant. In one hand he held a sword wreathed in blue flames, while the other rested on the oversized boltgun strapped to his thigh armour. "Lord Kalis, I am honoured" said Galvius, his eyes shining with glee. The Thousand Son Sorceror regarded the Astropath coolly. "Where is the Inquisitor?" he asked, his voice resonating with power. The Astropath's eyes dropped, his voice less confident. "He was killed by the soulless ones" he replied cautiously. Kalis felt a wave of anger seethe through him. "Without Malak I cannot complete my plans" he said. Kalis gestured with his force weapon, the blue flames cascading over the form of the Astropath. The body simply disintegrated, a screeching purple essence flowing into the force weapon. Kalis shivered, then relaxed. He left the bridge, hunting through the vessel for the Inquisitor's body. Meanwhile, Rubric Marines deployed from the portal, the automatons searching the ship methodically.

Xerxes and his Kill-team hurried through the corridors, heading for the docking bay. Hagen and his group came from the opposite side, the Enginseer and Skittari in tow. Xerxes sent the others ahead, his eyes watchful. While he did not possess any psychic abilites himself, his training as a Dark Angel had kept his animal senses keen. While a blunt, the sheer power of the psyker hunting them could be felt in the air. "Go" he ordered the others, as they stopped too. Kalis emerged from a higher level, looking down as the Kill-team and Stormtroopers rushed to the Thunderhawk. Rubric Marines were closing in, but the Sorceror knew that they could not catch the fleeing Imperials. Cursing, he leapt down two stories, landing with a thud. His power armour and enhanced frame took the fall, and in seconds he was up and running.

Xerxes turned and watched the Sorceror chasing them, the warp lending him unnatural speed. "Crucio" said Xerxes, as the Blood Angel rushed forward. Kalis tried to go for his bolter, but the loyalist was faster. His meltagun came up, sending a beam of superheated gas at the traitor. Kalis was forced to dodge, his warp-enhanced reflexes saving him. But the delaying action worked, slowing the Sorceror. The Thunderhawk came to life, as Deja piloted. The heavy bolters stitched a line of mass-reactive shells across the floor, covering the retreat of Crucio and Xerxes. They dissapeared up the assault ramp, as the gunship began to take off. Kalis roared in frustration, sending a ball of psychic energy into the craft. It tore into one of the auxilary wings, ripping off its lascannon. In response, the battle cannon fired, annhilating a squad of Rubrics. It then pivoted and sped out into space.

Kalis stood in the docking bay, seething with frustration. Suddenly, he felt a slight depression in the warp. The feeling grew, and soon the Sorceror could feel the debilitating effects of a Pariah nearby. He turned, and saw the Assassin come for him out of the darkness. The Rubrics sent hails of bolt shells into the beast, but the reflexes of the Culexus were too fast, too skilled. Kalis watched as the Animus Speculum opened, the void opening up in his warp-senses. He felt his very soul being drawn into the beast piece by piece, an agonising process. Then, in a wash of relief, the feeling passed. Kalis looked up to see the Culexus, missing its head, fall to the ground. While the Pariah gene still clawed at Kalis's soul, it was weakening. The Assassin dissolved, then dissapeared in a flash of green light. The Rubics halted, awaiting their next command. "My dear Inquisitor, what have you been doing?" asked Kalis to no-one, seeing along the strands of fate. He could only see an opaque mist, the ever-changing future too clouded by unknowns and peripherals to see clearly any path. He could see however the charges the Kill-team had placed. Kalis and the Rubrics fell back to the portal, entering one by one until only the Sorceror was left. "Where are you?" he demanded to the air, before hurling himself through the portal. As the charges activated, the engine core detonated, obliterating the entire ship.

Magos Belkan strapped himself into the Assassin pod, sighing as blessed augmetics and servo-probes plunged into his tortured flesh. The ungents and dispensors relieved him of the burning sensation of his fried nerve endings. The machines could only sustain him so long, but the Magos knew his time was short anyway. Activating the drive, he closed his eyes, settling into a deep sleep. His master awaited.

Xerxes watched the Mako disintegrated, his eyes cold. He somehow knew that the Sorceror had escaped. "Captain, return to the Imperius Luxor, we must talk" said Lord Reynaard, interrupting Xerxe's musing. "Recieved, Inquisitor. Xerxes out" he replied brusquely. The Thunderhawk continued towards the Inquisitor's ship, but other vessels were already emerging from the warp. "Why would they deploy a battlefleet, Captain?" asked Hagen. The Deathwatch Captain regarded the man for a moment, judging him. "To conduct the Ultimate Sanction. This world is corrupted by daemon, alien and heretic. There is no way to redeem it, it must be purged" he replied.

"So, anytime the Imperial Guard decide they can't send any more cannon fodder, we just abandon whole planets?" snapped Deja. Torvald stood, his eyes flashing with anger. "There is no mercy for the corrupt, Salamander. If the divine will of the Emperor is for a world to be destroyed, then it will be destroyed" he growled. Xerxes stepped between the two. "Deja, your sympathies are misplaced and bordering on the heretical. Those still pure will join with the Emperor, while the vast majority of aliens and heretics will fall into oblivion" he said calmly.

He locked eyes with Torvald. "However, I have lived long enough in the Emperor's service to understand the difference between the Emperor's will and the desperate men that claim His authority" said Xerxes. Fabian joined the conversation. "So, are we going to fight or not?" he asked, hefting his bolter. "We will fight, but it will not be heretics or aliens that we purge" said Xerxes. The cargo bay fell silent. "I must ask you all to take up arms against our own blood. Otherwise, the ignorance at the heart of such men as these will doom us all" Xerxes continued, gesturing dismissively to the massive fleet gathering.

[Friddel]

Part 35

"Exterminatus?" asked Chaplain Grenfell, his eyes narrowing beneath his skull-helm. "But we have made so much progress." Castellan Folkert rubbed a hand across his unshaven face. "Believe me Chaplain, if the Inquisition did not have grave fears for the Imperium's security, then I doubt they would give such an order" he replied, a bitter edge to his voice. "Since when have we been at the beck and call of the Inquisition? If they doubt our abilites..." began the Reclusiarch again, before the Castellan held up a hand to stop him. "I understand, brother, but the Inquisition only asks once. I have already heard mutterings of increase scrutiny and gene-seed testing should we resist" he warned. The Chaplain slammed his fist into the wall, denting the metal. Composing himself, Grenfell turned back to Folkert. "We are sons of Dorn. To doubt our purity, our loyalty, is an insult" growled the Chaplain, barely supressing his rage. "Chaplain, I fear that it is not the xenos defiling this world that prompted this response. The Tyranid invasion was brief and from what I can tell a total disaster. As for the Orks" said the Castellan, voice trailing off, "they have all but dissapeared." Grenfell tightened his grip on his crozius arcanum. "Chaos constantly seeks to confound us so it may destroy us from within. I think the xenos were a distraction, designed to lure us away from the intact hives" said Grenfell, mind racing. "I fear the same, Chaplain. Our efforts have been but nought to whatever foul scheme is taking place here" said the Castellan darkly, eyes watching the nearest hive city. "Shall I recall the men?" asked the Reclusiarch, drawing his bolt pistol expectantly. "Immediately, Chaplain. Get everyone into transports, our time here is running out" ordered Folkert. Grenfell hurried out of the command building, his deep voice booming out across the camp. The Castellan felt a tinge of dread in his stomach, as he watched his Crusaders pack up.

High above in orbit, Lord Karamazov watched as more and more vessels moved into formation. "Isabella, have you recieved word from the Black Templars stationed on the surface?" he asked sharply, as the Inquisitor entered. "No, my Lord. Servitors confirm the directive reached them but Castellan Folkert has not responded." The Ordo Hereticus Lord let out a sigh of frustration. "I would admire such devotion to the cleansing of the xeno and heretic, were it not for the timing. Perhaps I made a mistake in requesting their assistance" he murmered to himself.

The holo-projector on the bridge of the Righteous Purgation activated. A blurry, static-laced three-dimensional figure grew before the two Inquisitors. "Lord Karamazov, I presume" growled the Astarte, locking eyes with the Inquisitor. "Chaplain Grenfell. Has the Castellan been informed?" asked Karamazov bluntly. The skull-mask betrayed nothing to the Inquisitor, although the tone of the Reclusiarch's voice spoke volumes. "You requested our assistance in the cleansing of Pelucidar. Now that we have driven off the xeno menance and are about to cleanse the last heretics from the hives, you order us to evacuate so you may conduct Exterminatus" said Grenfell suspiciously. "Do think we are incapable of dealing with Chaos, Inquisitor? Do you think of us as weak?" snapped the Reclusiarch, incensed. "Chaplain Grenfell, I would remind you of who you are speaking to. I am a Lord of the Witch-hunters, and I will not..." began Karamazov, before Grenfell cut him off. "We are Black Templars, Inquisitor. I ask you to consider who you are ordering off this planet with such presumption" growled the Reclusiarch, raising his crozius arcanum accusingly.

"I have given the Castellan and yourself fair warning, Chaplain. Disobeying a direct order from the Inquisiton is tantamount to heresy" said Karamazov, furious. "We are converging on Hive Belkan, Inquisitor. If the corruption at the heart of this world is cleansed, then you will have no need for an Exterminatus" said the Chaplain calmly. The Ordo Hereticus Lord took a deep breath, considering his options. Looking up again, his face could have been etched from granite. "There is a window of two hours, Chaplain, before the final ships are in place. If you have not succeeded or evacuated by that time, then Exterminatus will be conducted" said Lord Karamazov grimly. Grenfell bowed, a faint smile beneath his skull-helm. "Very well, Inquisitor. Ave Imperator!" he shouted, raising his crozius triumphantly. "Ave Imperator, Chaplain" snapped Karamazov, as the holo-projector shut down.

Inquisitor Isabella turned to her senior, eyes questioning. "My Lord, the final alignment of the fleet will occur within an hour. Why did you make that promise?" she asked. Lord Karamazov's features remained impassive. "If they are successful, then they go to the Emperor redeemed. If they fail, then they will be cast into oblivion, as is the fate of all heretics" replied Karamazov. He activated several runes built into his command throne, gesturing to a servitor. "Encription protocol Gamma, wide-sweep transmission to all Inquisitors" he ordered the servitor. The half-man began to speak frantically in Binary, various machines humming to life as their cogitator banks randomised the transcript. "Blanket ban on all communications to the surface. Do not respond to Astarte transmissions. Continue to prepare for Exterminatus order" said the Hereticus Lord, gazing down at Pelucidar fiercely. Isabella felt a twinge of remorse for the doomed Templars, but her training quickly expunged her sympathies. Clearing her mind of doubt, she watched as a lone Thunderhawk headed for the Righteous Purgation.

"Xerxes, our fight here is over. Chaos is the province of the Witch and Daemon hunter. The xeno threat has been eliminated" said Lord Reynaard. The Deathwatch Captain nodded slowly, feeling embittered. "My Lord, what happens to my Kill-team?" he asked. The Ordo Xenos Lord pondered the question for a moment. "You will be attached to my mission now" he said slowly. Xerxes sat up, his interest rekindled. "I have been hunting a Dark Eldar Archon for over a month now. His raiding patterns seemed normal at first, but then he encountered Malak. Who was hunting whom, I doubt we shall ever know. However, Malak managed to obtain an ancient artifact from the Archon. Its function and origins remain a mystery, but it was certainly of great value to this Dark Eldar leader. His Kabal was captured by our mutual friend Isabella" continued Reynaard grimly, bringing up a pict-capture sequence. Sororitas battle-sisters fought their way through the ship, eventually capturing the Archon and subduing his Incubi bodyguards.

Reynaard let out a sigh as the symbol of the Ordo Hereticus blacked out the pict-display and sound, the automated code-blocks preventing any further information to be divulged. "Normally, those of equal rank in other Ordo have the same clearance, but the Ordo Hereticus has been obstructive and belligerent in this matter. Whatever the Archon told Isabella, Captain, it is worth risking the ire of the Ordo Xenos. Not even our most senior Lord, Lord Grundvald, can access the contents. This after repeated hacks and memory wipes into our own databases, in the name of 'doctrinal purity' " spat Reynaard. "If they can't trust a hard-core puritan like Grundvald and his Conclave Conservatii with this information, who do they trust?" asked Xerxes, confused. "Probably only Isabella or Lord Karamazov know. Karamazov is untouchable, he's a Lord of the Ordo Hereticus. The junior Inquisitor, however, is a different matter" said Reynaard, thinking intently.

[Friddel]

Part 36

The convoy of Black Templars made their way towards the central hive of Belkan, engines roaring. As they neared the outskirts, Crusader squads deployed from their Rhino transports. Assault Marines flew overhead, as Castellan Folkert and Relcusiarch Grenfell left their command Landraider Crusader. "I sense a trap, Chaplain" said the Castellan quietly, as the Black Templars flooded into the city. "Have faith, brother. The Emperor watches over us, and He will let none of these heretics escape our holy wrath" replied the Chaplain, activating his jump pack. He soared through a breach in the wall, weapons held ready. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw the familiar glow of plasma. The lethal bolts struck him, flaring against his rosarius field. Bellowing in anger, Grenfell leapt and twisted, hacking the head off one of the ambush team. Seeing the Chaplain walk through their barrage, the cultists continued to fire, one bolt piercing the field. Grenfell felt a searing pain in his shoulder as an entire auto-reactive plate was boiled away, cooking the flesh underneath. His bolt pistol came up, booming as it spat mass-reactive rounds back. Two plasma gunners were blown away, the rounds entering their chests and detonating in twin explosions of gore. Grenfell never stopped moving, quickly catching the three others as they tried to escape. His crozius was quickly drenched in their vital fluids, as he slew them with a vengeance. The power field crackled and fizzed as the blood evapourated. "Forward, brothers! For Dorn!" he yelled, rousing the reinforcing Assault Marines.

The furious zeal and righteous hatred of the Black Templars was on full display, as they worked themselves up into a frenzy. Cultists died by the dozen, as entire squads were simply run over by the rapid advance of Astartes. Those not cut down by chainswords or blown apart by bolters were quickly purged with flamers. Castellan Folkert and the Emperor's Champion fought side-by-side, power weapons flaring as they cut the enemy down like scythes through wheat. Suddenly, a deep, inhuman bout of laughter caused the three warriors to turn. "Couldn't resist, could you? This is truly the blind leading the blind" snorted Kalis.

Grenfell raised his crozius, bellowing his reply. "You will pay, traitor! Your foul war-spawned sorcery will be purged from this world, just as surely as you will be! Face me!". The Reclusiarch activated his jump pack, landing on the upper level. Kalis smiled maliciously, as Rubric Marines appeared from the shadows, their bolters raised. "Tzeentch likes the souls of true believers the best. I doubt you will dissapoint him" laughed the Sorceror, as the Rubrics opened fire. The cursed bolts they fired flared against the rosarius, pitching Grenfell back with the force of impacts. The field soon broke down, as the blue-tinged shells went straight though the Chaplain's power armour. Grenfell roared, defiant to last. His bolt pistol was soon emptied into Kalis, who casually flicked the rounds aside with his fingers. The Chaplain's crozius came around, only to fall from his fingers as he fell. Collapsing before the Thousand Son, Grenfell spat blood onto the traitor's armour before falling to the floor, dead. "Come, the Imperials will kill these fools for us. Thank the Gods for the Inquisiton and its Puritans" said Kalis, smiling nastily. The Rubrics followed the Sorceror through the warp-portal, even as the Castellan and Emperor's Champion fought their way to the top.

The Black Templars were bloodied and low on ammunition, as the never-ceasing wave of corrupted men and women kept fighting to the last. Foul Spawn rampaged through the Marines, brought low by multiple stabbing chainswords and combat knifes, or accurate bolter shots to the head. The Castellan reached the portal just as it closed, letting out a roar of frustration. "Chaplain, tell me you killed that..." said Folkert, turning to find the Chaplain's body. He knelt before it, as Apothecary Corvus checked the read-outs from the power armour. "He has fallen, Castellan. Shall I remove the gene-seed?" he asked. The Castellan rose, feeling a wave of sadness. "Administer the last rites, brother. But I have a few words to say first" replied the Castellan. He made the sign of the Aquila, before speaking. "May you find your way to the Golden Throne, brother, and join with the Emperor. May your steadfast devotion and piety be rewarded forever. Ave Imperator" he said, finishing. The other Black Templars responded in kind, clearly in shock. The sounds of raging battle could barely be heard over the silence that descended on the Black Templars and their Castellan. The scream of incoming ordnance woke them from their reviere.

"On my command...fire!" ordered Lord Karamazov. The fleet shuddered collectively as a titanic amount of lance strikes, melta torpedoes and cyclonic bombs was fired from them. Pelucidar began to heat up, the clouds evapourating as the tectonic plates began to crack. The hive of Belkan simply exploded into a gigantic fireball, visible from orbit. Others blossomed into mushroom clouds of fire as the collossal firepower of the Inquisitonal fleet tore them apart. The planet's mantle began to shift, lava pouring from cracks in the crust. Oceans evapourated in boiling clouds of steam, as the mantle subsumed them and the crust. The very core of Pelucidar began to break apart. Then the planet truly died. Its death-throes, a spectacular explosion of rock and magma, didn't reach the ships, but threw continent-sized asteroids and chunks of cooling metal deep into space. The heat and flame from the death of Pelucidar cooled in the dead vaccum of space, dissapating to flecks of cooling ash and rock. Isabella was still gaping at the sight, when Karamazov turned to her. "This is the price we pay, Isabella. When the taint of Chaos infests a planet, sometimes the only option left is to sacrifice the world" he said, gesturing to the new spherical asteroid field "and all upon it".

Lord Reynaard and Xerxes watched as the remains of Pelucidar drifted into space, gravity no longer holding them in place. "I have seen many Exterminatus, Captain, but they never get any easier" sighed the veteran Inquisitor. Xerxes shrugged. "We must make sacrifices if we are to outlast our enemies, my Lord. The Adeptus Astartes is living proof of that." Reynaard raised an eyebrow. "You are made into the most lethal soldiers the Imperium possesses. Your entire lives are dedicated to war and conquest in His name. What do you know of sacrifice?" asked the Ordo Xenos Lord. The other Space Marines got their feet, incensed, but Xerxes waved them down. "We sacrifice that which is most important, Inquisitor; our humanity. We have no purpose, no reason for existence, once our enemies are vanquished. The men of the Imperial Guard, of the Inquisition, of the Imperial Navy, they can go back to peace, to a normal life. Our only purpose is to die in their place" finished Xerxes firmly. Reynaard felt his face redden slightly. "I take your point, Captain. But what occured here today was a waste, it achieved nothing" he spat, disgusted with Karamazov.

"How so, Inquisitor? That world was lost to Chaos" said Torvald, clenching his powerfist. "Would it interest you to know, Space Wolf, that the Inquisiton just destroyed an entire Company of Black Templars?" responded Reynaard. Xerxes and the others spun to face the Inquisitor Lord. "They knowingly conducted Exterminatus, while our brothers were still crusading in his name?" said Fabian incredously. "Yes, it would appear so. Their last transmission was a heated argument between them and Lord Karamazov. After that, their was a blanket ban on all communication with the Astartes frequency. Less than an hour later, they destroyed the planet" responded Reynaard calmly. The Space Marines all let out different cries of defiance and rage, but Torvald said nothing. He walked purposefully up to the Inquisitor Lord, leaning in face-to-face. "Take us to him, so I may rip this traitor limb from limb" he growled menancingly. Reynaard smiled faintly. "I too feel betrayed by this callousness, but Lord Karamazov is untouchable. He is a Lord of the Ordo Hereticus, they have the unique power of being able to investigate other members of the Inquisition. An attack on him would spark an intercine war within the Inquisiton, which would achieve nothing" retorted Reynaard firmly.

"So, he is going to get away with this act of base treachery?" asked Xerxes, his voice as low and ominous as Torvald's. "Yes, Captain, and there is nothing you can do about that. However" he said, raising a hand as the Astartes began to raise their protests, "our mission remains. If we can convince Isabella to tell us what Malak took from the Archon, we might gain a piece of the puzzle to discovering his killer." Xerxes snorted. "He was killed by a Culexus, my Lord. I saw the pict-capture myself" he retorted, clearly frustrated. "If that is true, then the level of corruption were dealing with goes to the highest ranking authority in the Imperium" pondered Reynaard, clearing distressed with the news. "Only the High Lords of Terra can dispatch an Assassin, not even the Inquistion has that power" he continued, as Xerxes spoke again. "So we shall find our answers on Holy Terra" he said, continuing on. "One of the High Lords must be an imposter" he concluded darkly. Reynaard smiled again, but it was not a pleasant look. "Captain, if Malak's death was ordered by the High Lords, they would have had to have a reason. Temple Assassins are an extremely rarity, and there are many other ways to kill a man" replied the Ordo Xenos Lord. "Nevertheless, you are correct. If we are to discover who engineered Malak's death, Terra is where we will find the answer." Lord Reynaard left the Kill-team in the secure conference room, heading for the bridge.

[Friddel]

Part 37

The lone Thunderhawk sped through the blackness of space. Inquisitor Isabella was in the docking bay of the Righteous Purgation as it landed. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted the disctinctive insignia of the Ordo Malleus imprinted onto its side. The assault ramp lowered, as the gunship settled onto its squat landing gear. The Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor gestured, calling two squads of Sororitas over to her. "Be on your guard. Overt hostility I prohibit, but be prepared nonetheless" she whispered, as the Thunderhawk disgorged its cargo. Inquisitor Gunther strode down the ramp, his retinue shadowing his moves. "Inquisitor Isabella?" he asked, his deep voice booming through the cavernous hangar. "Who wants to know?" she replied haughtily, one hand hovering near her bolt pistol. "I am Valorus Gunther of the Ordo Malleus" he replied, moving closer. His pair of gun-servitors and Sergeant Castra faced down the battle-sisters, the Stormtrooper's face a mask of contempt. "And what would a daemon-hunter want with me?" asked Isabella pointedly, gesturing to the ship behind her.

Gunther nodded, shrugging. "I understand your suspicion. However, I have located the whereabouts of the traitor Sorceror Kalis" he said calmly. Isabella's pulse quickened. "Where?" she demanded, as one squad of battle-sisters peeled away, heading towards the bridge. "Crucis sector. Its a far-flung system on the edge of Imperial space. Indications are that the Ordo Xenos has been active in that sector" responded Inquisitor Gunther, as Isabella began to issue orders rapidly. "Is there any indication that Malak is with the Sorceror? If we are in luck, we may be able to catch both heretics red-handed" said Karamazov, emerging from a nearby grav-lift on his Throne of Judgement. Valorus shook his head, eyeing the dreadnought-sized construct dubiously. "In any case, Kalis will be able to direct us to Malak, and I will have the evidence I need to purge him" responded the Ordo Hereticus Lord viciously, a savage smile forming on his cold face. "I can transport Inquisitor Isabella to the region immediately, Lord Karamazov. The 'Righteous Purgation' can remain here until we return with the traitor" suggested Inquisitor Gunther. Karamazov eyed up the Ordo Malleus Inquisitor, before nodding. "True. Kalis is certainly slippery, speed is of the essence. But Gunther" he added, as the Inquisitor made to leave, "I need that thrice-cursed traitor alive. He is of no use dead" Inquisitor Gunther nodded, as Isabella and her two squads returned, boarding the Thunderhawk.

From the safety of the 'Imperator Dominatus', Lord Reynaard watched as one of the Ordo Malleus ships from the fleet peeled away. Moments later, it tore a hole in reality and entered the warp. "It is done. Captain, I am placing five more squads under your command. The operation will be bloody and hard-fought. I know you will not fail" he ordered, turning to Xerxes. The Dark Angel nodded, and left the Ordo Xenos Lord to his thoughts. The warp-drives of the strike cruiser powered up. Moments later, it too dissapeared into the Emperyan.

The Ordo Malleus ship, 'Imperius Luxor', sped from the warp, exiting on the outer edge of the Laius system. On board, Inquisitor Isabella prepared herself and the Sororitas, reading their souls as much as their weapons. "The last time I faced this Sorceror, I barely escaped with my life. Capturing him will be difficult and cost us all dearly, but he must be taken alive" stressed Isabella, as they boarded the Thunderhawk once more. "You are not accompanying us, Inquisitor Gunther?" she asked, as he watched them board. "If the traitor surfaces, then I shall deploy the Grey Knights to your position. Kalis has a notorius contempt for the Adeptus Sororitas. If we lull him into a false sense of security, his arrogance will lead him into the trap. Good hunting" added the Ordo Malleus Inquisitor, as the assualt ramp closed.

[Friddel]

Part 38

The Ordo Hereticus Thunderhawk sped from the launch bay of the ‘Imperius Luxor’, Isabella watching from the cockpit as the gunship sped towards Laius. The desolate ice-world had a palpable sense of foreboding, of hidden secrets. The Inquisitor shuddered involuntarily, her psychic senses repelled by an unknown force. Her hand tightened around the grip of her bolt pistol. She had felt the oppressive energies of null-fields and ‘blanks’, but this felt different. It felt almost…sentient. The Thunderhawk banked sharply, Isabella pitching slightly. The reason for the sudden change in direction became apparent, as another defense laser stabbed upwards. “This is Inquisitor Isabella of the Ordo Hereticus! Cease fire immediately!” she shouted over the vox-link, as the second pulse narrowly missed. No answer came over her helmet, but she felt a slight nudge in the back of her mind. “Kalis” Isabella spat, fury coursing through her. The Thunderhawk pitched again, the impact melting its right wing and sending it into an uncontrollable dive. The Inquisitor’s expression didn’t change, as she reached into the servitor’s minds. Although the Adeptus Mechanicus did all it could to remove the emotional hemisphere of the brain, the half-men before her still retained a slight presence in the warp. Their current guidance routines were scrambled by the defence laser. Cursing quietly, Isabella cautiously reached out mentally, taking control. She felt the immense stresses of the craft, sensed its engines and retro’s straining to recover. The gunship was going to crash, realised Isabella; only she could choose whether it would be fatal.

The Thousand Son Sorceror watched callously as the flaming Thunderhawk sped through the atmosphere, its ceramic armour glowing from its speed. Come on you lackey, fight, it he thought. Struggle against the inevitable. The gunship wobbled, but gradually stabilised. “Come then, you arrogant fool. It is of no consequence” he hissed at the Thunderhawk. The traitor’s power armour shimmered, warp-energy flaring as Kalis concentrated. His smile widened as he felt the Grey Knights through the warp. Turning to his small band of traitors, he waved them away dismissively. They hurriedly returned to a nearby cave, where a squad of Rubric Marines stood guard. Kalis entered, watching as the portal began to take shape. “Fate is inescapable” he whispered to himself, as he felt another being shift behind the veil.

“Inquisitor, we have detected daemonic activity on that planet. The Sorceror is trying to summon a Great Daemon, probably of his patron god. We must prevent that from happening” intoned Justicar Weiss, his gauntlet tightening around his nemesis force halberd. Gunther nodded solemnly. “Justicar, this traitor must not be allowed to escape, nor can he be killed here and now. I have chased Kalis for too long to let him slip from my grasp” warned Malleus Inquisitor, readying his daemonhammer. Weiss nodded, as they and the Inquisitor readied themselves for teleport. The artificer-forged Terminator armour Gunther wore was ancient and potent; the hexagrammic wards and daemonbane incense dispensers made it a powerful piece of equipment in hands of a daemonhunter. It also allowed Inquisitor Gunther to wield his daemonhammer. Integrated into the left vambrace was a storm bolter, mimicking the distinctive wargear of the Grey Knights squad. He stood in front of them, head bowed in prayer, while the Grey Knights began their own chant. The teleport chamber crackled with barely-contained energies, before they all disappeared in flash of blue light. From the hangar four Valkyrie gunships, each with ten Inquisitional Stormtroopers, sped towards the surface.

Inquisitor Isabella felt the depature of Gunther and the Grey Knights, cursing beneath her breath. “Sister Superior, we do not have long. The impetous daemonhunter and his Grey Knights are inbound. We have to place the teleport homer” she shouted over the icy wind. From ahead, the Sororitas squad leader spoke. “Inquisitor, we have found the cave. The stench of Chaos fills the air” she reported coolly. Isabella reached the cliff, looking down onto the flat plain where a crack in the earth disappeared underground. “Storm the breach. Inquisitor Gunther and his Grey Knights will arrive to capture Kalis” she ordered. The battle-sisters snapped into action, hurrying down the slope. The two squad leaders sang hymnals over the biting wind, keeping the Sororitas driven. One of them pitched, a bloody hole bored through her helmet. Another two were picked off as they tried to get under the arc of fire. “Get inside and torch them!” ordered Inquisitor Isabella, as another Sororitas dropped. The wind and the driving snowstorm made it impossible to place the location of the shots, so all the witch-hunters could do was run.

From the same hill the Inquisitor and Sororitas had just departed, Vindicare Operative Shrike breathed in the cold air. His Exitus sights settled on a straggler. He exhaled and fired in one smooth moment, the shot pitching the target into the blasted ice. The remaining Sister Superior was running hard, her storm bolter firing wildly one-handed as she backpedaled. The mass-reactive shells zipped by the hidden sniper, who calmly ignored the inaccurate spread. His sights lowered onto the right shoulder of the battle-sister. The shot blew a chunk of flesh and ceramite from the target, dropping her into snow. Satisifed, Shrike slung his rifle, moving to the next designated foxhole. The Vindicare’s final target would reveal himself in due time. The assassin felt a slight shiver down his spine. Moving faster than any normal human, his Exitus pistol as drawn and he sat, hands cupped in a firing position.

Inquisitor Gunther and the Grey Knights re-appeared in another flash of blue light. The Justicar noticed the fallen bodies of the Sororitas, and then looked at Shrike. “I trust you remember whose side your are on” said Gunther coldly, looking at the bodies. The Vindicare operative holstered his pistol, slinging his sniper rifle. “I serve the Emperor, Inquisitor, and no other power. They entered without your permission; you instructed me on what my orders were” he said calmly. Weiss nodded to his squad, who readied their stormbolters and halberds. “Form up on me, Justicar. Remember, the Sorceror is mine” he snapped, nervousness and tension creeping into his voice. They descended into the cave, following the booming sound of bolters and the battle-cries.

The Ordo Xenos strike cruiser was spat from the warp, exiting on the edge of the Sol system. Instantly, security protocols and other more arcane devices scanned the ship, various Inquisitional overrides and clearance codes shutting down the different barriers. Huge system defensive ships moved back into original positions as the sleek cruiser went deeper. “Captain Xerxes, I need you in the Thunderhawk. Leave your Kill-team on the ship” he ordered, brow furrowed and eyes watchful as they slowly made their way to Terra. Soon, they had departed, leaving the strike cruiser to remain in orbit. The Thunderhawk sped over Terra, and Xerxes marvelled at its beauty. A hive world of truly epic proportions, the homeworld of mankind groaned under the weight of the awe-inspiring edificies that covered its surface. Thousands of shuttles and other small atmospheric craft darted around the gunship. The Deathwatch Captain felt the ship slow, then lower onto its landing gear. “Come, Captain. Its is rare that I am given an audience with the High Lords, if it were not for Lord Karamazov’s absence and the intervention of the Lords of the Ordo Malleus none of this would be possible” said Reynaard hurriedly. Xerxes nodded, as a unit of Terran honour guards surrounded them. They eyed up the giant Marine without a trace of fear or surprise. Their burnished bronze-coloured carapace armour shone in the sunlight, giving them a regal quality. The imposing doors to the Senate Imperialis loomed before Xerxes, flanked by a pair of Custodes. As Lord Reynaard made to enter, a halberd sliced across his path. “No weapons are permitted within the Senate. Not even an Inquisitor has that authority within these walls” intoned the Custode, his voice deep and firm. Lord Reynaard fumed silently, but passed his power sword and bolt pistol to the Terran guards. Xerxes calmly relinquished his bolter, power sword, grenades and meltabombs. He followed Lord Reynaard inside.

The sheer scale of the Imperial Senate dwarfed the two newcomers. Hundreds if not thousands of servitors, scribes and other attendants surrounded the eleven delegates. From where the two Ordo Xenos representatives had entered, Xerxes looked around and saw a smaller if still impressive assortment of scribes, servitors and servo-skulls. A voice boomed through the huge building, silencing the murmurings of the various people. “This meeting of the Senatorum Imperialis is now in session” said Master Adonis of the Administratum. The Inquisitorial representative may speak” he said, gesturing to Lord Reynaard. The alienhunter acknowledged the High Lord, then turned to the rest of the delegates. “Noble High Lords, an act of heresy has been perpetrated from these chambers. A member of the Ordo Xenos was sentenced to death by this august body, his execution carried out by a Culexus Temple assassin. The deployment of such a resource can only be done with the unanimous approval of the Senate. So, may I ask, who insitigated this act of treachery?” he snapped.

Instantly, the room descended into chaos, as various delegates stood and shouted at Lord Reynaard, others shouting over the top of them at Master Adonis. “Silence!” ordered the High Lord, his face flushed with red. He turned to Lord Reynaard, eyes narrowed. “It was on the advice of Lord Karamazov, a respected member of the Inquisition, that the deployment of a Culexus was authorised” he said coldly. Reynaard’s voice lowered to a hiss, his words echoing through the total silence. “You accepted the word of a confessed extremist puritan, without consulting the Ordo Xenos? Were it not for your rank I would have you burned at the stake for such heresy” snarled the venerable Inquisitor Lord. The Fabricator-General of Mars spoke up, his voice flat and machine-like. “He had consorted with xenos and traitors, Lord Reynaard. Lord Karamazov’s purity and faith is unquestioned, we saw no reason to delay the Emperor’s will” he said, many of the other High Lords murmering their assent. Lord Reynaard looked around the chamber, his face wrinkled with disgust. “That evidence was subjected to the scrutiny of a Conclave trial, and it failed to convince any bar the Ordo Hereticus of Malak’s guilt. The Inquisition deals with such matters, not the Senate” he snapped, fury coursing through him. “We do not question the authority of the Inquisiton, Lord Reynaard. Lord Karamazov had requested the deployment of Temple assassins before, as have you. Should we not investigate the validity of all recent deployments?” responded the Lord Militant Markus Aurielus, his bionic eye fixed on the alien-hunter. Other High Lords spoke of their approval, eyes turning to the Master of the Administratum. “Very well. Until such time as we have validated all recent Temple deployments, no more operatives may be deployed” ordered Master Adonis. The Grandmaster of Assassins stood, eyes narrowing. “What of the operatives in the field? Should they be recalled?” he asked, his voice sibiliant and distorted. Master Adonis considered the question. “Any who can be safely recalled should be. Those who are too far to be returned to their Temples within a week will remain, but will be subjected to the same scrutiny as those who return.”

[Friddel]

Part 39

Inquisitor Isabella swept the tunnel ahead with her bolt pistol, the Sororitas covering her with their bolters. They continued downwards, as the air began to thicken. Half-glimpsed images flashed through the air, but the squad’s heavy flamer quickly dispersed them. “The taint of the warp is strong here. We cannot allow them to summon a daemon” whispered the Inquisitor, as she probed the darkness ahead psychically. “Sister Superior, I need frag grenades forward” ordered Isabella, turning to the squad. “Sister Lavelle is with the Emperor now, Inquisitor. But we will do as you command” responded one of the battle-sisters, reaching for her belt. Isabella recovered, a wave of bitterness crossing her face. “The moment after the grenades explode, we storm them” she ordered. Gripping her own bolt pistol tighter, she watched as the Sororitas threw frags into the space ahead.

Kalis didn’t even look up; he continued to chant the incantation, while bringing up his left gauntlet. Flicking two fingers, he sent the grenades flying back up the tunnel. From either side of the entrance, Rubric Marines fearlessly advanced into the shrapnel, pouring cursed bolts into the space. Isabella leapt, her psychic premonition saving her life. The Sororitas were less fortunate; their own grenades blew four apart, the remaining five falling back up the tunnel. “Inquisitor, we must fall back!” shouted one of the survivors, watching Isabella leap forwards. The witch-hunter ignored her, drawing a power stake from her belt as she charged the Rubrics. The psychically-charged weapon scythed through the air, cutting down three of the traitor Marines. Isabella spun around their bolter fire, stabbing one through the chestplate and then decapitating another with the backstroke.

The Sorceor roared in frustration, summoning his hate and anger into a psychic bolt. “Go to your beloved Emperor, whelp! I have no time for your petty disruptions!” shouted Kalis, as the roiling ball left his fingers. Isabella fell to the floor, feeling the bolt of change spin past her. Kalis drew his force staff and bolt pistol, snarling in frustration. “Continue the summoning, I will deal with the Imperial” he snapped to the handful of cultists, who had stopped chanting. They hastily resumed, as the Sorceror strode purposefully towards Isabella. “No one can escape their fate, Inquisitor” he said calmly, focusing. “Then you know you are already doomed to die by my hand, traitor. Kneel and receive the Emperor’s vengeance” spat Isabella, her power stake sweeping the air, crackling with soul-fire.

Kalis laughed mockingly, then sent a blast of warp-energy at Isabella. She batted it from the air with her weapon, but the exertion made her stagger slightly. “You feel it, don’t you? That is raw power, Inquisitor. The Emperor only lets you feel a sanitised version; powers I mastered when I was but an Initate” he whispered, striking out with his force weapon. Firing a salvo of bolt pistol to distract the Inquisitor, he swept upwards. His blow was blocked, but his enhanced reactions meant Isabella had to parry another blow near-simultaneously. The combat descended into a blur, both psykers drawing on the warp to guide them. Kalis closed his eyes, then evaporated. Isabella spun, as the Sorceror re-appeared before her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another appear beside her. Soon, the Inquisitor was surrounded by the mirror-images, all of them lashing out with perfectly-timed blows. Isabella swung her power stake in wide slashes, parrying waves of strikes, before decapitating two of them with the backhand strike. The ghosts dissolved, as the other images began to flicker and break up. Isabella roared in frustration, ramming her power stake through the chest of the last Kalis. Suddenly, the veil was lifted, and she locked eyes with her opponent. The Sororitas just stared at her, her mouth open in shock. The life left the battle-sister’s eyes, and the body slid from Isabella’s weapon.

The witch-hunter fought back the bile, turning to the sound of the Sorceror’s mocking laughter. “Slain by your own hand” he said, gesturing to the four other fallen bodies. Isabella watched as the Sorceror stepped through the veil, her shouts of vengeance echoing in the silence. The sound of thudding footsteps shook Isabella from her grief, as Inquisitor Gunther and the Grey Knights rounded the corner. The daemon-hunter’s eyes narrowed, as he surveyed the carnage. Justicar Weiss brought his storm bolter to bear on Isabella, as the rest of the squad copied the manoeuvre. “Leave her, Justicar. We have other priorities” he ordered. Weiss ordered his squad to move out, flowing smoothly past the frozen Isabella. “But when I return, Inquisitor, there will be a reckoning for this heresy” he hissed, as he passed the witch-hunter. Isabella dropped her weapons, kneeling. Tears mingled with sweat and blood, dripping down her face as she recited a prayer to the Emperor.

Valorus Gunther felt the wards in his armour burn, as the taint of corruption and change washed over him. The Grey Knights felt it too, their armour glowing softly with a white light, as their Aegis suits counteracted the warp. Kalis stepped from the shadows, eyeing up the newcomers disdainfully. “You are no match for the true power of Tzeentch, mortals. I have foreseen your deaths, in every last detail” he whispered, his words echoing ominously through the cave. “Silence, traitor. Your blasphemous lies cannot save you from the Emperor’s divine retribution” snarled Inquisitor Gunther, raising his shining daemonhammer. From the pit, a dozen Horrors spat from the warp, gibbering and shifting constantly. “Justicar, purge the daemons. I shall deal with the Sorceror” ordered Gunther, as he advanced on Kalis. The Thousand Son smirked, sweeping his force staff before him. The two met, as Justicar Weiss and his Grey Knights assailed the Horrors. Their storm bolter tore three to pieces, but the other daemons flowed around their fire. As they came closer, one of the Grey Knights opened up with an incinerator. The blessed flames claimed six more daemons, but the Horrors kept coming. “Into them, brothers! Let them taste the purity of our blades!” ordered Weiss, sweeping his nemesis force halberd through two Horrors. They dissolved into a greasy ash, the wards on the Justicar’s Aegis armour flaring. The rest of the squad easily dispatched the Horrors, the warp-creatures flailing uselessly before the psychic defences and combat skills of the Grey Knights.

On the lip of the pit, Kalis and Gunther fought. The Sorceror flowed around the daemonhammer, drawing blood from the Inquisitor with every touch of his force staff. Valorus fought the leeching of his soul, praying to the Emperor with every swing. Kalis felt the hexagrammic wards and daemon-bane incense suffuse his senses, loosening his connection with the warp. His blows became slower, more desperate. “You will not best me, Imperial dog! I have slain creatures beyond your imagination, your sanity!” cursed Kalis, as he dodged storm bolter fire from Gunther, parrying the daemonhammer away. Kalis struck out, burying his force staff in the Inquisitor’s shoulder. Gunther grunted in pain, but swung his daemonhammer under the Sorceror’s guard. Kalis hissed, extracting his blade to parry the strike, relinquishing his grip on Gunther’s soul. The Inquisitor brought his storm bolter up in one fluid motion, emptying the remainder of the magazine into the Sorceror’s helm.

The blessed psy-bolts hammered a tattoo against Kalis’s head, ruining his helmet and pulping his face. Kalis sliced the still-firing storm bolter from Gunther’s Terminator armour. The Inquisitor swept his daemonhammer sideways, catching Kalis in the vulnerable side armour. The flexible joint cracked under the blow, sending the Sorceror staggering to the left. Gunther bashed the daemonhammer into the chesplate of his foe, sending Kalis unceremoniously onto his back. Placing a heavily-armoured boot on Kalis’s chest, Gunther let the weight of the Tactical Dreadnought armour pin the Sorceror in place. He kicked the flailing force staff away, ignoring the impotent bolt shells. Kalis soon expended his pistol, which he then whacked uselessly into the leg of Gunther.

In the pit, Justicar Weiss turned his storm bolter onto the cultists. They screeched and cursed, but the squad incinerator put an end to their cries. As their cursed bodies dissolved into ash, Weiss noticed Gunther above him. “We will begin the ritual of reconsecration, Inquisitor. What is to be done with the traitor?” he asked calmly, flicking the last droplets of unclean blood from his hissing halberd. “Purify the area, Justicar. Once that is complete you will escort the Sorceror from here. I shall ensure his co-operation” replied Gunther, breathing heavily. Even with the enhanced senses, weapons and protection of his Terminator armour, the Inquisitor knew he had been lucky. Had Kalis not been so arrogant, or engaged the Grey Knights instead, Gunther would have failed to capture the Sorceror alive. He knew Weiss would have cut the traitor’s head from his shoulders without a second thought. The still-squirming Kalis spat a few words from his ruined face. “This means nothing, Inquisitor. You are a servant of Tzeentch just as much as I am. The only difference between us is that you deny…” spat Kalis. “Silence, traitor, before my urge to purge your life overcomes my better judgement” replied Gunther, cutting Kalis off.

Weiss motioned to the Inquisitor. “We are ready, Inquisitor. What should be done with the witch-hunter?’ he asked calmly, as the squad readied their weapons. “I shall deal with her. Focus your attentions on the traitor, I will not tolerate his escape” ordered Gunther, dragging the traitor to his feet. He pushed the Sorceror into the waiting arms of two Grey Knights, who held him firmly. Weiss expertly carved a section of armour plate away from Kalis’s neck, just above the backpack powerplant. Another Grey Knight shoved his incinerator into the hole, pressing it’s hot barrel against the traitor’s skin. Kalis writhed, but stopped as Weiss raised his halberd to the traitor’s neck. “So much as a twitch, Sorceror, and I will send you to the Emperor’s feet. Move” he ordered, the hatred palpable in his voice. The rest of the squad surrounded Kalis, Weiss keeping his halberd at the Sorceror’s neck as they set off.

[Friddel]

Part 40

Lord Reynaard fumed silently, as the Thunderhawk set off. “What now, Inquisitor?” asked Xerxes, unperturbed. “We’ll have to meet with the Strategic Collective. The data-codex and other information you recovered from the Mako is of utmost importance to our plans” responded the Ordo Xenos Lord. Xerxes felt the gunship descend rapidly, and the internal lights came on. “Why does the Strategic Collective not include the High Lords, Inquisitor?” asked the Deathwatch Captain, as they left the Thunderhawk, heading down a tunnel. “I would not make open accusations, Xerxes. But like any Inquisitor, I have my suspicions. And such doubts go even to the heart of our Order” said Reynaard heavily, his face twisted with anxiety. Xerxes noticed the two squads of Deathwatch Marines guarding the door. Reynaard motioned the Astartes to stand down, as the bulkhead opened. Xerxes followed the Ordo Xenos Lord into the chamber.

Around twenty alcoves lined the wall, the usual attendant servitors and other aides flanking the six other Lords. Another four empty alcoves were filled by holo-projections, the remainder left bare. Lord Reynaard stepped up the central dias, motioning Xerxes to remain in his alcove. “I am not here to dwell on recent events. Malak’s assassination only shows how little time we have to act, and the forces arrayed against us” stated Reynaard emphatically, silencing the scattered chatter. He tapped several commands into the control console before him, connecting a data-pad to the holo-projector. “As we are all aware, events in the Octavian sector remain unchanged. For ten years now, the Tyranids and Orks have battled eachother ceaselessly. Our own Kill-teams and the few Callidus operatives we have had deployed have observed no clear winner. The Hive Mind has assimilated the Ork genetic material, but has so far been unable to best the greenskins. Both xenos grow stronger from conflict, and our assassinations of veteran Ork Warlords has no discernable effect” stated Reynaard, as replays of wide shots flashed across the holo-projector, the full ferocity of the Ork and Tyranid battles made all too real.

Lord Reynaard brought up a different holo-projection, statistics and charts flashing across it. “Malak’s project was an attempt to subdue the Tyranids, cut them off from their Hive Mind. However, they required raw material, a hive fleet that could be contained and subdued. Thus, the Laius Rift was chosen” continued Reynaard, bringing up a three-dimensional projection of the ice planet. “Notorious for its disruption to warp-travel and the many ships it has claimed, this isolated planet in the Crucis sector was requisitioned by Malak. A splinter fleet from the Hive Fleet Kraken invasion had stumbled across Laius and become stranded on the surface. The frequent crash-landings of various vessels, both Imperial, traitor and xeno, provided it with minimal sustenance. Over time, the Norn Queen adapted it’s broods to the harsh environment. It was in this state that Malak found it, weakened and unable to contact the Hive Mind.” The auto-sensor recordings of a servitor played across the holo-projector, showing Deathwatch Marines and Stormtroopers cleansing the taint. “Over time, Malak established several secure, automated facilities. These linked to the underground tunnels dug by the Laius broods, providing a steady stream of specimens to examine.”

Lady Veritas broke into the lecture. “Adolphus, where is this heading?” she asked, a slight tone of exasperation to her voice. “Patience, m’lady” responded Reynaard testily. “Failure was encounted, at every angle. The broods, while weakened and forced to fend for themselves, would not respond to augmetic implants or drugs. It was Malak who suggested they required a psychic controller” continued Lord Reynaard. He activated a different pict-recording, showing Inquisitor Malak taming a Gaunt. “The synaptic control system was there, all that was required was direct psychic manipulation. I had my reservations about it, but Malak was insistent there was no other way.” The holo-projector sputtered out, as Reynaard turned to the other Lords. “At this point the record becomes sketchy. Malak left Laius without a word of explanation, but in great haste. He requested a sealed container be brought by a Kill-team to Pelucidar.” Lord Abraxas sighed, shaking his head. “Our efforts to eradicate the Tyranid threat will not be aided by these methods, Lord Reynaard. Malak’s execution has shown us how the Ordo Sicarius views such matters” he replied gravely, static crackling across his holo-projection. “Perhaps, but Malak left one other important legacy. A virus that may yet yield victory over the Great Devourer” responded Reynaard.

Xerxes moved from the alcove, bringing the data-codex with him. Connecting the device to the console, Lord Reynaard entered the Ordo Xenos access code. A loud beep echoed through the chamber, as a scanner played across the man’s face. Another beep sounded, and the device began to decay. “I need a Tech-priest here, now!” ordered Lord Reynaard hurriedly, as no less than five rushed to the podium. Their mechadendrites and augmented hands probed the data-codex, as they mumbled in Machine-code and High Gothic. One turned to the Inquisitor Lord, what little flesh remaining on his face ashen. “It appears to have a sophisticated liquid-metal security system, my Lord. The data has been lost” he responded nervously.

“Adolphus, we must move onto other matters. Should you recover anything of importance you may bring it to the attention of the Collective at a later time” said Lord Draconis smoothly. As Lord Reynaard left the podium fuming, Draconis activated his own holo-recordings. “As many may well be aware, work has continued ceaselessly to find an effective way to eradicate Ork infestations. As proven on Armageddon and on countless other warzones, not only is the initial invasion a danger, but also the potential of the Feral Ork tribes it leaves behind” he began, as more statistics flooded across the projector. “Recently we have discovered, or rather re-imagined, chemical defoliants. Usually used by the Imperial Guard for clearing dense forests or by terra-forming fleets to shape a planet’s surface, these substances have proved to be remarkably destructive to Ork DNA.” A pict-capture played, showing slide-by-slide the defoliant dissolving the algal component of the Ork DNA. “While of course on the adult form defoliant would probably not kill them, for eradicating spores this would serve as a useful weapon” concluded Draconis.

Lord Xanthus raised a questioning finger at the holo-projector. “I find it hard to believe that such a discovery has not been made before. And is not fire just as effective at eradicating both adult and spores?” he asked sceptically. “I admit that I and my team were sceptical of our result, but the evidence is that defoliant would be an effective weapon. It has the advantage over fire that it could be tailed to specifically the Ork algae, and thus cleanse eco-systems without the need for total devastation” responded Draconis. “I am requesting that concept be field-tested, if only to put to rest the idea” continued the Lord hopefully. “Defoliants are notoriously carcinogenic substances, Draconis. I think I speak for all of us when I sat that we do not wish further scrutiny of our methods, especially not after Malak” said Lord Zacharius sternly. “Of course, brother. I am planning to deploy it in the Octavian sector, there is certainly no shortage of test subjects and few innocents” said Draconis with a smile.

“Lord Abraxas, you wished to comment on the mobilisation rates within the Imperial Guard?” queried Lord Arvus. “I’m afraid the previous recommendations of the Strategic Collective simply cannot be met by the Guard. It would deprive the Imperium of far too much human capital, which is stretched as it is supplying our existing forces. Also, while the induction criteria for the Guard are much less stringent than the Adeptus Astartes” continued Lord Abraxas, nodding at Captain Xerxes, “not everyone is suited to becoming a soldier of the Emperor.” Lord Arvus sighed. “Without the added manpower, it is unlikely the Imperium will be able to repel another attack by the Hive Mind through brute force. Perhaps it is time for a expansion of the Deathwatch itself” he added, turning to the other Lords. “I doubt the Chapters would welcome such a move, brother. While I do not question their loyalty to the Emperor, I have seen more than one Chapter Master refuse to deploy battle-brothers or allow them to be requisitioned” responded Lord Reynaard, “our limited deployments of Kill-teams are stretching our available pool of Deathwatch Marines”. “If we sanctioned their transformation from a Chamber-Militant to a full Chapter, like the Grey Knights, would that not circumvent both problems?” asked Lady Veritas haughtily.

“A Chapter cannot be made out of such disparate legacies, m’lady” responded Captain Xerxes. “Each Chapter is proud of the heritage, and can trace their gene-seed back to a Primarch. Also, to grant the power of a Space Marine Chapter to the Ordo Xenos would undermine the authority of many other institutions” continued the Dark Angel seriously. “You need only look to the Ordo Hereticus to see the lie in that, Captain. The Ecclesiarchy was forbidden ‘men under arms’, and yet they maintain extensive armed forces in the form of the Sisters of Battle” responded Lord Arvus dismissively. “So too the Ordo Malleus; I can think of no force superior to the Grey Knights. I would struggle to name a loyal force which would take up arms against them” added Lord Abraxas. “Neither the Grey Knights nor the Adeptus Sororitas are wholly under the control of the Inquisition. Both are sovereign entities, and can refuse to co-operate. The Deathwatch’s only purpose is to enact the will of the Emperor, as interpreted by the Ordo Xenos. We have no autonomy in our actions” retorted Xerxes firmly.

[Friddel]

Part 41:

Isabella turned her head as Valorus and the Grey Knights rounded the bend in the tunnel, Kalis firmly held between them. Her eyes widened with rage and shock, as she rose and drew her pistol in one smooth movement. Inquisitor Gunther raised his daemonhammer threateningly, as Justicar Weiss covered Isabella. “Stand down, Isabella. He is most deserving of death, but not yet” cautioned Gunther. “His actions have lead to the deaths of millions, Gunther. Death would be a gift to such a debased traitor” she spat, still aiming her bolt pistol squarely at the Sorceror’s ruined helm. Kalis turned his head, Weiss’s halberd remaining at his throat. “My dear Inquisitor, you have lost in almost every sense of the word. And this minor obstacle” he added derisively, twitching his shoulders at the Grey Knights “will not last. Can you not accept your place in the Great Archit…”. Isabella’s bolt pistol boomed, sending a mass-reactive shell at Kalis’s head. With great speed, Gunter superimposed himself right before Isabella fired. The bolt deflected harmlessly off the Terminator chestplate. “Enough! Justicar, de-motivate the Sorceror’s power armour and shut down his vox-caster” he ordered furiously, rounding on Isabella. “By the powers of his most Holy Inquisition, I charge you with heresy and intention to obstruct Imperial justice. Take her” he ordered, as two Grey Knights quickly moved from either side of him. Isabella glowered at the two advancing warriors, who both raised their gauntlets. While one covered Isabella, the other Grey Knight knocked her out with a soft blow to the back of the head. “We’re coming out now. Myself, the Grey Knights and two prisoners” voxed Gunther.

Watching Pelucidar burn below him, Lord Karamazov turned as one of his subordinates entered the room. “My Lord, the envoys from the Black Templars have arrived” he said, bowing respectfully. Karamazov ignored him, turning as five Astartes entered the bridge. Clad in black power armour, decorated with white campaign stripes and the Chapter symbol on their right auto-reactive shoulder plates, they towered over the lesser mortals on the bridge. It was the Space Marine at the centre that command attention though, as he locked eyes with Lord Karamazov. Clad in intricately-wrought power armour, an ornate death-mask concealing his features, the Chaplain was a fearsome sight. Purity seals decorated his gauntlets and chest, and even through the helm’s lenses Karamazov could see the dark eyes staring back at him. “Chaplain Leuter, you honour us with your presence” said Karamazov seriously. “I am not here to exchange pleasantries, Inquisitor. A great tragedy has befallen our Chapter, and I wish to discover how so many brothers were lost” he snapped harshly, his voice a low growl. Lord Karamazov raised an eyebrow fractionally, keeping his eyes locked with the brooding Chaplain. “Castellan Folkert and his brethren fought valiantly, but the traitors were well-prepared and bolstered by Traitor Marines” responded the Hereticus Lord. As the Chaplain’s eye’s widended with disbelief, Karamazov continued. “From the vox-reports, we understand they engaged no less than the cursed Thousand Sons. Reclusiarch Grenfell reportedly was felled by the Sorceror Kalis” added the Inquisitor Lord. “What of the Castellan? Did he not return to the Righteous Fury?” asked Leuter, his command squad visibly stunned by the news. “He succumbed under the sheer weight of filth, roaring praise to the Emperor and your Primarch” said Karamazov, careful to not name Dorn, knowing the sensitivities of the Astartes.

Chaplain Leuter moved to stand beside the Inquisitor, his gaze focused on the cooling remains of Pelucidar. “Knowing they were doomed, we enacted Exterminatus. Even the lives of such holy warriors are naught to the threat of Chaos” continued Karamazov. “From what I have heard from the bretheren still stationed on the Righteous Fury, the Castellan disagreed with your decision” said Leuter slowly, turning to face the Hereticus Lord. Karamazov met his gaze without fear, despite the accusatory tone in the Chaplain’s voice. “Castallan Folkert assaulted the last bastion of Chaos upon this world. I came to the conclusion that he would either triumph, thus making Exterminatus uneccessary” responded Karamazov “or fail, and leave the Ordo Hereticus no other option.” The Chaplain held his gaze, his eyes narrowing. “You condemned them all to death, callously purged the Emperor’s chosen in their moment of victory. I do not question your piety, Inquisitor, but you have the blood of Astartes on your hands” growled Leuter, raising his crozius accusingly. “The threat of Chaos dictates great sacrif…” began Karamazov heatedly, before Leuter cut him off. “Enough of your dogma, Lord Karamazov. I would have praised your actions before, were it simply the Imperial Guard or another lesser force. But my brothers were no mere mortals, they were Astartes; some of the most loyal and formidable warriors in the Imperium. Their lives are not expendable” snarled Reclusiarch Leuter, the malice in his voice thick and palpable.

“I warn you, Chaplain. I have the utmost respect for the Black Templars and their Crusades, but your Castellan recklessly ignored my orders. He brought about the deaths of the Crusade forces. I merely enacted the will of the Emperor, knowing the peril of failure” snapped Lord Karamazov, all pretence at appeasment flung unceremoniously aside. “To defy the edicts of a Lord Inquisitor is to invite eternal damnation. I am the Emperor’s will, any who oppose me are heretics” he continued, his eyes blazing with fury. A servitor wandered between the two incensed men, mindlessly turning to Lord Karamazov. “My Lord, an Inquisitor by the name of Valorus Gunther wishes an audience” it droned tonelessly. Lord Karamazov tore his gaze from Chapalin Leuter, glaring at the servitor. “Transmit to my private quarters, initate a secure holo-projection” he ordered. Rising from his command throne, Karamazov made his way out, fearlessly turning his back on six enraged Astartes.

As the blast doors sealed behind him, the Hereticus Lord made his way to the holo-projector in the centre room. “Lord Karamazov” greeted Inquisitor Gunther, his holo-projection laced with static. “What news, Gunther?” snapped the Inquisitor Lord, still smouldering from his last encounter. “We have secured the traitor. Your overzealous acolyte nearly allowed him to escape” stated Gunther calmly. Lord Karamazov frowned, thinking for a moment before replying. “Isabella is my responsibility, leave her to me. As for the Sorceror…” Gunther broke in quickly. “Having captured Kalis myself, the Ordo Malleus has sovereignty in this matter” he amended. “Very well. I shall petition your order upon returning to Terra. Ave Imperator” responded Lord Karamazov. Taken aback by the nonchalance of the Hereticus Lord, Gunther stuttered a reply before Karamazov ordered the link cut. “Resourceful, but extremely foolish” said Fydor to no one.

Inquisitor Gunther watched as an Ordo Malleus Thunderhawk descended from orbit, growing from a speck to a discernable shape. Without warning, a blue laser blast obliterated the craft, sending it’s flaming wreckage into the icy plains below. “Throne!” swore Inquisitor Gunther, but Justicar Weiss motioned him to look higher. A ship now hung in orbit, it’s underside belching fire as drop pods descended. “What in damnation…?” asked Valorus, as the first pods landed. Out of them sprang Deathwatch Marines, bolters up. In less than a minute from the destruction of the Thunderhawk, sixty black-armoured Astartes had surrounded Gunther and the others. “Surrender your weapons” barked one of the Sergeants, as several Marines peeled away to confiscate their equipment. “This is insanity! I demand to speak with your ranking Inquisitor!” shouted Inquisitor Gunther, jerking his daemonhammer from the grasp of a Deathwatch Marine. “You will comply or be terminated. This planet has been declared Perdita by the Ordo Xenos, those who break the quarantine suffer death. It is only your rank which is keeping you alive” barked the same Sergeant again, as the other Deathwatch covered the group.