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The heretic gargled up blood as the knife thudded into his neck. Pawing at his now shattered windpipe, he tried to bring a scream to his blood flecked lip's-but none came. Toppling, the lifeless corpse hit the ground with a 'thump', as the Assassin retracted his blade.
Sindri looked up, eyes cold and calculating, as the traitor's blood seeped around his feet. Wiping his knife on a nearby tree, he agily leapt into the thick foliage below him, and dropped prone. The thinly defended fort of the heretics lay ahead, protected by little more than than an iron fence, and a couple of armed patrols. In the thick gloom, Sindri could only just make their sillohuetes out, but he counted roughly 3-4 sentinels accompnanying the guards. He allowed the briefest ghost of a smile to flicker across his lips as he contemplated his course of action. No searchlights, no heavy armour; this was almost too easy. And Sindri had always been taught that if something seemed to good to be true, it probably was. Still, he'd also been taught to use every oppurtunity as an advantage, and so began to slowly and deftly crawl towards the camp.
Stopping only to evade an isolated traitor (whom Sindri could easly have killed, but at risk of revealing himself), he reached the wall in just under 15 minutes. Rising gracefully, and using his suits ebony colouration to maximum advantage, the assassin began to scale the fence. He did this in silence, and indeed he dropped to the inside of the base with no-one spotting him. Taking cover behind some barrel's to hide from a red hulled sentinel, Sindri looked towards the most elaborate barrack. There was little doubt in his mind that the mark was within. Under his breath, the assassin muttered "This is where the fun begns", before cautiously making his way towards the establishment.
The sky blazed with fire as the first munition strook the base, and Sindri was thrown to the ground, shock and surprise coursing throgh his body in equal measure. Looking towards the midnight sky as more rockets descended from orbit, he saw the opening wave of an Imperial fighter team swoop down from the ground, closely followed by some landers, the base's garrison was now in disarray, with panicked men running everywhere, and muffled cries piercing the night air. Sindri grimaced, and bolted towards the fence, uncaring of who saw him. Whilst the thuggish Imperial war machine had thwarted his efforts this time, he knew there would be other other oppurtunities to complete his mission. Sindri just hoped he was still alive to take them.



To be continued....

A nice story nut I would really like some moer bakground stuff and so on.

Chapter 2

Cory, acting chief medical officer aboard the cruiser Hand of the Divine, was bored. It had been a slow day, with few injuries coming in or out of the medical wing. Cory knew she should be happy, but it meant she had nothing to do; and Cory didn't cope well under boredem.
Idily, she watched as two guardsmen walked past. One of them gave a suggestive wink, but she made it very clear she wasn't intrested. A noise behind her made her turn, and she flashed a quick smile as Doctor Finn, one of her colleagues, walked into the room.
"Tell me WHY we're going to Skalthrax tertia again?" Cory asked, idly looking out the window as she watched the mighty Imperial navy rain damnation down upon the planet, as landers slowly made thier way towards the surface. Cory was no stranger to warfare, indeed she'd had to employ her medical skills in the field many times, but she did not share the same passion towards it as some others did. Finn looked surprised at the question. "The Emperor, blessed be His holy name, has commanded that these vile heretics that pollute his realm are destroyed of course?" he replied, but it didn't convince Cory at all. "Yes, I know that Doctor." she replied, an icy tone in her voice, "but it doesn't explain why so much manpower is needed. I mean, the heretics have just started to get thier act together; surely one quick, descive strike could end the war now?"
No sooner had she finished, Finn started to look around the room, nervousness evident in his eyes. Leaning in, he beckoned her closer. "If I'm honest my dear" he said, voice barely above a wisper, "I think there's something the Officers aren't telling us. You are right, one quick strike could defeat these infidels. Instead, the High lords have seen it fit to send two regiments of Vostroyan's. I've even.." Finn looked around again, before lowering his voice even more. "I've even heard rumors that an Astartes chapter is making it's way here!". Cory's brow furrowed as she poured over this news in her head. "But why? What could possibly be-?"
A loud noise disturbed the conversation, making them both jump in surprise. It was the shipwide vox. "All medical staff report to hanger A33. You're going planetside.".



I hope that's cleared up a few background issues. Some people may recognise Cory and Sindri from somewhere else-and I can assure you, they won't be the only returning charecters ......

Looks great, keep it coming!

Now this is interesting my good sir! So keep it comming

Chapter 3

Cory pulled her thick overcoat closer around herself as she desperatly tried to stop her teeth chattering. Though she'd worked in many hostile situations before, she still hated cold. What was confusing her was that Skalthrax wasn't meant to be this cold. It wasn't meant to feel like your immortal soul was being plucked from your body. The aura of death was palable around her in the air. And it made Cory....scared.
In an attempt to take her mind of her worries, Cory turned her attention to the nearby group of Vostroyan guardsmen nearby. They appeared to be recieving briefing from the superior officer, a portly man who appeared to have undergone some mechanichal upgrades; half his face was replaced with bionics, but what made Cory most unsetteled was the hissing, sleek power fist that was grafted in place of his left hand. In truth, it was less of a fist, and more of a claw, and it didn't need much imagination toconsider what it could do to you if you were hit.
Cory's thought track was broken as the door of the makeshift medical base was swiftly opened, and two men carrying a raggedy stretcher rushed in. Placing it on the table, she could see it was an Enginseer, curled up in a faetal position and convulsing at random intervals. There was hot blood seeping out of many wounds, mixed with some form of mechanichal fluid. Pulling out her scapel, Cory turned to one of the stretcher carriers, and asked "What happened to him?", in an all buisness manner. "We found him outside some ruins in the south. He was on the ground with many blade wounds, and all around him were the remains of his Skitarii guards. We could make naught out of him, so we brought him here." The man replied. Cory nodded, before motioning them to leave.
Suddenly, the Enginseer sat bolt upright with a scream, blood still flowing freely. His eyes had the look of panic and madness, and Cory had never seen a priest of Mars, usually such calm and taciturn men, in a state such as this before. "Doomed!" he cried, with a voice that made Cory shudder as she desperatly tried to calm him. "We are all doomed! I have seen the machine god, and he is a false deity! His sons will come to slay us all, to take our minds for thier god! We are damned if we stay here! None shall survi-!" Before he could finish,a shot rang out, and the dead body of the Enginseer toppled backwards from the table to the floor. Cory turned to his killer, with a feeling of anger mixed with shock, and gasped. He was wearing an ornate suit of burnished gold power armour, with silver inlays. He wore no helmet, leaving his black hair to trail around his soldiers. An ancient-looking sword was sheathed at his side, and a burgundy cape was hung over his shoulders. But what Cory was drawn to the most was the medallion hung around his neck; a crimson 'I', with a skull emblazoned in the centre. The symbol of the Inquisition.
Turning his head, but leaving his smoking bolt pistol pointing in the direction where the tech priest had been. The man gave a smile. "Pardon the intrusion, my dear. Just buisness that all." he said, silky voice doing little to sooth Cory's flaring temper. "What in the thrones name was that, and who the feth are you?!" she screamed, uncaring of whether he was the damn Emperor himself. The mans face went stony, and suddenly Cory felt very foolish.
"My name is Inquisitor Naziel, of the His most holy Ordo Xenos. And as of now, everything and everyone on this base is under my direct command."



Wow, that was long .

Chapter 4

Sindri dived behind some barrels as three lasgun shots hammered into the wall where his head had just been. His pursuers ran into the cramped room, a bloodthirsty battle cry on their lips, and Sindri knew he had no choice but to fight. Pulling out his pistol, and switching it to 'standard' firing mode, he stuck his head above the parapet and fired some return shots, uncaring of where he aimed. Sindri thought he saw one of the enemy fall, but had no time to make sure, and quickly took cover as another salvo of las-fire tore threw the air.
Finally, as he heard his assailants closing in, Sindri could take it no more. Feeling the insanity and hate he worked so hard to surpress rising within him, he drew his sword, and with a blood-curdling scream the assassin leapt from behind his cover into bloody melee. The first traitor was unprepared for the vicous assault, and Sindri decapitated him in one fluid motion. The head toppled back off the shoulders as the body thrashed in a snake like manner, spraying all around it in gory arterial fluids. The second enemy had no time to take in what had just happened before the assassin impaled his still-beating heart on his blade with a deft backhand thrust. Sindri could feel the combat drugs kicking in, and threw back his head while unleashing a mad, deafning cackle.
A heavy blow from a rifle but to the back of the head cut his celerbration short, and as Sindri fell to his knee's he bit back the pain and desperatly struggled to stay concious. Turning, he saw the opponent he'd believed to be dead bringing the improvised club back for another swing, blood pouring out of his destroyed chest but with a look akin to that of a maddened dog raging in his eyes. As he swung again, Sindri brought his sword up to block it, but he was weakened and it was knocked out of his hand and sent sailing across the floor. As the heretic turned his gun around and stabbed the bayonet at the assassin, Sindri let the battle-lust take him and performed a crescent kick across the legs, sending the attacker to the floor. Pouncing on his downed foe, the assassin tried to punch him in the vain hope of rendering him unconcious. The traitor was too quick however, and rising to his feet he leapt at Sindri, once again trieing to impale him with his bayonet. This was the assassins chance. Cocking his pistol, Sindri aimed right between the eyes as the world seemed to slow down around him. With a defiant snarl, Sindri pulled the trigger. There was a squelching sound as brains impacted with the wall as the limp body of the heretic fell to the ground with a thud.
Collapsing to his knee's as the red mist faded, Sindri let go of the breath he'd been holding as he felt the drugs wearing off. Struggling to stand, he limped across the room and retrieved his sword, before turning to leave-and then stopping. Hobbling over to the first enemy he'd killed, Sindri ripped open his shirt and exposed his bare chest. Cut into it was an odd hieroglyphic, similar to one's Sindri had seen on ancient ruins scattered around the galaxy, which throbbed with a faint green light.
Sindri's eye's widened in shock and fear as realization struck him. If these symbols meant what he thought they meant, then he had very little time indeed.

O.o now this is getting really interesting, may I guess for the Necrons to make an appearance next? or perhaps something else Old and evil.

Anshal wrote:O.o now this is getting really interesting, may I guess for the Necrons to make an appearance next?

Someone's been paying attention .

Chapter 5
Naziel, in all honesty, had seen it coming. He had seen the imminent attack on the base by the heretics. He'd seen the wall being demolished by a rocket strike. He'd seen the elimination of the scant loyalist armour. The only thing that confused him was why would the enemy, outnumbered, outgunned and outmatched attempt such a thing.
He shook the thoughts from his head as he elegantly sliced his shimmering blade threw the neck of the traitor. The head fell with a soft thud to the ground, and the body collapsed almost instantly. Without turning, he thrust his sword backwards threw the chest of an enemy attempting to surprise him from behind; the blade inserted easily, and the small whimper told Naziel all he needed to know. Withdrawing his blade, he turned towards the remains of the wall threw which more heretics poured in, and drawing his bolt pistol he fired several shots into the horde charging him, dropping an opponent with every hit.
Cory took cover behind the barricade as lasfire skimmed over her head. A Guardsmen also hiding popped his head up to return fire, only to take a convincing headshot and topple backwards, quite dead. Cory had little time to consider this as she fixed her bayonet to her gun and prepared for the enemy to reach her. After a short wait, the screams of the dying all around her and fires raging, a heretic leapt up onto the top of her shelter and screamed his praises to whichever foul deity he worshipped. That was when Cory struck; after swinging the butt of her rifle into her foe's genital regions, she leapt up and struck downwards straight into the neck of her crippled foe, killing him instantly. Squatting down behind her barricade again, Cory shot some return fire at the never ending wave of attackers, desperatly trying to stem the tide.
Naziel saw him almost instantly; a stocky man, clad in what appeared to be a form of power armour and carrying an eccentric looking staff. He was paving his way thre wto the frenzied crowd easily, and Naziel guessed he was some form of leader to the heretics. No time to think though, as Naziel knew what had to be done. Raising his blade and letting loose a cry to the holy Emperor, the Inquisitor charged, relentlessly hacking his way through a sea of frothing traitors. The leader turned to face him with a smug smile on hisface, and gave a little motion for the horde to part. With a clear run now, Naziel wasted no time, and brought his blade back to deliver the killing blow. That was when the hertic struck; extending his hand, bolts of luminescant green lightning shot forth, throwing the inquisitor to the fllor and wracking his body with pain. As he lay there screaming in the dirt, the leader gave another smile, and slammed his staff into the floor.
The bolt of green light that leaped from the staff head and shot towards the heavens was almost blinding, and for a moment, all was quiet. Then, the clouds broke with an almighty roar, as every star in the sky seemed to extinguish. But that was not what held the fighters below's attention. As one, every single person on the base ceased battling looked skyward as the harvest ship broke the atmosphere and drifted through the sky above.



I thought I should let you know that I won't be updating the story for two days as I'm on holiday, so you ya' when I see ya'.

This took...longer than I thought. Apologies.

Chapter 6
Cory pulled the last knot on the bandage around the guardsmens arm as he gave a small wince. Smiling weakly, he stood up and limped off to join his comrades. Cory leaned on the table he had been perched on, and put her head in her hands. That was the last one.
After the ship had broken the atmosphere, the traitors had retreated in quickly, stopping only to finish off any wounded Imperials they came across. She wondered why the sip hadn't just blown the base from the face of the planet yet, but upon consideration it was probably best she didn't know what it was truly doing. Over half the bases guard had been killed and many more had been wounded. Cory was no stranger to death, but the loss of so much life still made her well up. Before she could burst into tears, a young trooper approached her. "Chief Medicae?" he asked, with a thick Vostroyan accent. "The Inquisitor has requested your prescence in his compound immeadiatly." Cory knodded, thanked him, and brushing away a tear made her way towards the Inquisitors lair.
Naziel had one of the few stone buildings on the base, and Cory was in awe of how quickly it had been erected. The symbol of the Inquisition was emblazoned upon the door, and the interior was a veritable labirynth of dimly-lit passages. Finally, the nurse reached the confrence chamber, and warily walked in. She was not alone, as there were 4 other men in the room-The Inquisitor (now with a scar across his left cheek where some of the psychic lightning had hit.), the portly Guard officer who was glaring at Naziel intently, and a seated young-looking stormtrooper sergeant with a hellgun strung over his back. The air was tense, and you could tell an argument had just occured.
There was one more man in the room, causing Cory to gasp. Even in the dark chamber, the light-blue of his armour was clearly visible, as was the fur draped around his neck. He didn't wear a helmet, allowing his long white beard to flow over his pauldrons, and on his shoulder his iconography was clear; a wolf belching fire. He turned to look down at Cory, and gave a small nod. The nurse just stared back at him. Naziel gave a small cough, causing Cory to abruptly turn, and give a small curtsey. He nodded, before saying "Thank you for coming Chief Nurse. Let me introduce you to these gentlemn; over here", motioning to the stormtrooper, "is Sergeant Tryjon, one of my top lieutenants. This" he added whilst pointing towards the Guard officer, with a hint of venom in his voice, "is warden Boris of the Vostroyan 286th. And we are also honoured to be joined by battle leader Erik Sunwolf, representing Svane Bloodhowls great company of Astartes." The Inquisitor gave a small bow to the Space wolf, who in returned punched a fist to his chest in salute and smiled.
Turning back to Cory, he went on, voice now somewhat darker "What I am about to tell you is top secret and cannot be repeated to anyone outside these walls on pain of death, but as one of the highest ranking members of this base you have a right to know. Skalthrax Tertia is currently under attack by the Necrontyr-a race of ancient, souless Xenos born at the dawn of time. Why, I am unsure, but I am sure it is for no holy reason. Tryjon has faced them alongside me before (he gave a small nod at this), and knows the full horror of them as I do. Sadly, it appears not all of us are aware of thier terrifying potential." Cory had a good guess as to who he was talking about here, but there was something on her mind. "Lord?" she asked "What of the Heretical leader-the one with the staff." At this, Naziels face hardened "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that my dear. We have that problem...under control. But anyway, back to the matter at hand-we have drawn up a battle strategy to deal with the undying ones. The Guardsmen will advance at the fore providing the obvious target, whilst my stormtrooper squads will perform various lightning raids on Necrontyr positions. Lord Sunwolf will despatch his brothers to strike where the foe is weakest, ripping out there throat whenever possible. I expect your staff to adavance with us Medicae to help stem attrition rates. Friends, you know your duty. See to it it is carried out.