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The sentry never saw the coming blow that killed him. The blow delivered by the wraith like figure would have pulverized power armour and dropped a space marine like a pole axed grox bull, such was the strength behind it. Biting deep, the blade, a mixture of xeno tech and forging techniques lost to all but a few in the Adeptus Mechanicus, drained the life from the wretch, and the keen edge split him from head to groin in one fell strike.
The cadaver dropped down into the dust with the ruined remains of his entrails steaming on the cold ground as his killer flicked the blood off the blade as she scanned around to see if she had been discovered.

As the first hard round pinged of her armour and sent sparks flying, that alone alongside the shouts of the other guards answered her question.
She spun her twin blades in her hands as she took up a inhumanly fast sprint and leapt high into the air from the rampart she had stood on mere moments ago. As she fell towards the ground, shots, both solid and las ripped trough the air, or connected with a spank of metal or a bright flare. But they did nothing to slow her down as her steel boots made contact with her second victim. The man was struck squarely in the chest, and it caved in under the force of the brutal blow, felling him backwards gurgling blood and clawing the rubble below him in panic as death took him.
His killer however took no time to savour the kill, for she was already moving. Blades spinning in intricate patterns as she carved a bloody path trough the confused and scared sentries that had never and would never see a foe such as this again.
As the sentries manning the outer perimeter where torn to bloody shreds by the blood crazed fiend from the darkest depths of hell, the alarm sounded into the night air, summoning more men and women to come to their comrades aid.

Lost in the thin blood misted red veil she could only see the world trough, she could feel every beat of her own twin hearths and the thump of her pulse as her chemical laced blood raced trough her system. Every time her blades bit exposed flesh, or hacked off a limb only to kill on the return blow, she revelled in the spray of arterial blood and the wails of her dying victims.
She could hear her own cackling laughter as she buried her clawed fingers in the guts of a woman dressed in the uniform of the merchant guild guards, hearing the sickening sounds of flesh being ripped and guts spilled as the would be hero was gutted alive.
The kill counter installed in the display of her helmet blinked at a furious rate as the once sane and noble warrior turned living instrument of terror reaped a bloody harvest, and in the back of her throbbing skull she could hear the now howling choir reaching out from the empyrean to fill her mind with its maddening hymn.
Meanwhile the crazed assassin plying her bloody trade in the now chaos stricken compound, there was someone that stood and debated if to come to her aid.
The ones that did where the sisters she had left behind to secure the route they would be taking, but in stark opposition to what the Cannones had said, she had not had the nerve to send the strange prize out into the gloomy and war torn hive alone.
Battered and bruised from the almost non stop fighting since planet fall the sisters formed up behind their equally grimy and battered leader as they followed the path the assassin had taken.
It did not take long before they came upon the signs of her passing, corpses lay in heaps. Mangled beyond recognition and hacked down with both blade and claw.
Clearly no mercy had been given to be it civilian or rebel troopers, for all had fallen victim to the fiend that had torn trough this place on its hunt for blood.
“steady sisters! Such is the fate of these that strays from the path of the righteous, and the wrath of the immortal Emperor knows no mercy! Let the fate of these wrecks be a example of that!” Aritusa said with disgust clear in her voice as she walked trough the gore and human remains with weapons in hand.
Her armoured boots crushing bones and organs under foot as she strode fourth, followed by her own personal guards, each one of the grim faced veterans gripping their blessed power weapons and various ranged weapons in their armoured hands, and with grim determination radiating out from them.

It was not long before the sisters came upon the outer perimeter of what had just minutes before been a well guarded outer ring of defences.
But now the screams and shouting alongside the muffled bark of auto guns and the hiss of las guns coming from inside the ruined building.
“ My lady, is it wise of us to burst in there while that homicidal thing is busy painting the walls red? You know as well as I do how these infernal and damned souls are when their blood is up!” the stern voice of one of the very in the strike force that could allow herself to directly disagree with their leader.
Reloading her heavy bolter and hefting it like a child swinging a wooden gun the heavy weapon specialist looked calm as every, if a bit worse for wear.
Turning her head away from the partially ruined building the Cannones seemed to chew on the answer for a few seconds before responding.
“ Wise words sister, I for one do not wish to face a assassin today. And certainly not that one! I have a very sneaking suspicion sisters that that would be the end of us all.”

Taking a moment to step over a particulary mangled corps as she slid the last precious power cell into her plasma pistol she continued.
“ But nor can we run the risk of our package getting mortally wounded or otherwise lost to us! For that would shame us and the order. So therefore we need to asses the situation at hand.”
but before she could speak another word something came flying trough the air, and landed with a wet thump at her feet.
Instinctively everyone scrambled for cover, expecting it to be a grenade or some other unpleasant explosive greeting from the rebel scum.
But no explosion or shower of lethal metal fragments followed, instead a giggling laughter could be heard from above as a figure dropped down, and rose to her full height with two gore stained blades in hand. And the thing that had made all the sisters scramble for cover appeared to be a severed human head, with a look of utter terror upon its bloody features.
The features of the assassin was almost unrecognisable as she stood there, eyes as dark as sin and a pale table aura of dread seeping of her, and creeping into the sisters.

“The path is cleared my lady! No one stands between us and the place you wish to reach, and many more of the scum has been punished for their heresy” she said with a flat tone to her voice, and before their eyes the tortured soul seemed to shrink as the blood haze released her, and the voices that haunted her mind fell all but silent.
“You have my deepest thanks warrior, now let us depart this foul place. I have no wish to linger in this cesspit for any longer that strictly needed. “ Artiusa said and gestured for the remainder of her underlings to advance in good speed to the nearby LZ where they would be collected and finally be free of this world, and so they pressed on. Running as fast as their weary bones would allow them.
As they came out of the maze like labyrinth of narrow streets and partially or completed gutted buildings they could see the landing zone, the former landing zone for civilian and commercial flights now lay just a few hundred meters away.
The Cannones and her fellow sisters alongside their precious price could almost feel the sense of security the knowledge of soon being lifted up and away from this dark and forlorn place.
But in a galaxy ravaged by war, haunted by genocide and where demi gods strides upon the fields of war hope is something only the insane or dying should cling to.......

The assassin, whom before her capture had gone by the name of Valeria suddenly felt a very familiar, and deeply unnerving urge being to fester in her mind. It started as just a thought but soon, the choir of voices and the basic urges ignited in her threatened to make her mind boil over.
And for the first time since her “escape” she strained to hold back the rage building inside her own mind and body. Biting her lips so hard that it drew blood and clenching her fists equally hard she felt the long talons on the end of her fingers dig into the ceramite of her gauntleted hands she somehow managed to maintain a somewhat sane grip on herself. But the effort did take a brutal toll on her strength, and with a almost strangled scream she collapsed onto the dirty ground and lay motionless as the ominous shapes of the transport came into view.
Shuddering as she fell hard she felt something snap inside her, and that drew a faint sob of pain and denial from the one that had already lost herself once.
Feeling the burning heat from the ornate silver necklace that hung around her neck inside her armour she knew one thing. Soon she would repay the one that had orchestrated her hellish transformation from a beautiful and free woman into this tortured form of wrath made manifest.

Artiusa saw and heard the collapse of the blood caked warrior, and ordered her underlings to waste no time in dragging the unconscious form of Valeria into the ship, that now waited for them to embark. She saw the blood dripping from the lips of the assassin, and the nasty looking talons dug into her own hand palms. It was at that moment that the mask of the woman that had seemingly cared for the assassin fell away, and revealed the ice cold butcher that normally showed its fangs when she dealt with the universe at large.
“Squad leaders! Give me a headcount of all of us that still draws breath!” she said as she walked up the boarding ramp, helmet in one hand and her still humming power weapon in the other.
“ All still living accounted for Cannones, everyone is aboard this heap of junk!” one of her senior squad leaders told her over the hissing vox as the boarding ramp closed. And they could feel the powerful engines roar into life as the ship began the almost hour long journey back up to the ship that awaited them amongst the stars.
As the transport cleared the smoking skyline of the hive as AA fire illuminated the gloomy skies around them, the sisters began to relax. Removing their helmets and laying down their weapons for the most part they congratulated themselves on a mission well done. And that the wrath of the immortal Emperor had been delivered to those that strayed from his guiding light and will.
But not all of them relaxed or lowered their weapons, Aritusa and several others stood around the now chained and secured form of the assassin that had helped them made good their departure.
Their prize was bound in massive adamantium chains that could have restrained just about anything. And in addition several electronic pacifiers had been placed upon the unconscious form that lay drooling on the floor of the cargo bay, there where also the ten sisters armed with electro staffs ready to give the very dangerous cargo a brutal treatment if she tried to break free.
“Do NOT let your eyes of her, if she moves as much as a hair fry her!” she said to those chosen to guard their prize as she tried to raise lord inquisitor Romanov.

Nice new entry, a bit brutal at the end with all those electric cattle prods, but suitably grimdark.

It's a shame ... I quite liked those Sisters ...

In his own private bedchamber he lay, upon his sickbed tended to be skilled medical personnel and a host of personal retainers that catered to his needs as he recovered from the nasty backlash the psyker had dealt him. The backlash had overloaded the already strained body and caused his life supporting implants and other things essential to his survival to almost give out before his storm troopers got to him and administered life saving first aid.
Romanov snarled as the last of the plugs where removed from his biomedical implants, and a small drop of dark red blood stained the sheets. The pain was still ravaging his whole body and his head felt strange as if he had consumed too much amasec.
But the pain helped him focus and to maintain grip on reality, and what needed to be done so he could depart this wrenched part of space. And finally be able to put this whole sorry affair behind him.
As he glared bloody murder at the ceiling as one of the medical orderlies gave him a rather painful injection with steroids to help his body recover faster, he heard the door open and a somewhat sweaty navy officer enter.
“My lord Romanov, we have just received news from the strike force lead by Cannones Aritusa. They have the package in custody and are fifty minutes out as we speak.”

This message had an almost immediate uplifting effect on the ravaged man as he answered the navy officer.
“ Splendid news! Make the necessary preparations and have the cryo unit prepared for the new arrival!”
“ At once my lord” the man replied as he saluted and closed the doors behind him as he left the lord Inquisitor to ponder the coming arrival.
Waving the retainers and medical personnel away he swung his still shaking form out of bed, and gripped the bed rail in a iron like grip with one hand as he began to dress himself, it was difficult, but he persevered and somehow managed to get most of his cloths on before conceding defeat and allowed himself to be helped with the rest.
With his cape fastened and with cane in hand he felt properly dressed and with a sharp command he dismissed everyone from his quarters, although his medical chief protested against it, and told him that he should rest. And leave this to his more than capable servants the old war hound wanted to hear noting of it, he wanted to behold his price personally and savour the feeling of power and influence it would grant him. Plus knowing he would have several new individuals to lean on for favours and somewhat unwillingly donations in return for his silence also motivated him.
But most of all he wanted to make sure that his price was worth having struck such an diabolic deal with those rabid mongrels from Fenris.
For even he did not doubt for a second their willingness to allow the things they knew to reach the ears of his superiors and colleagues in the holy Ordo should they come to feel he had somehow broken their agreement.
As he limped out of the grand personal chambers, and into the dimly light ship corridor to begin the rather long walk towards the docking bay where the transport ship would dock in some twenty standard minutes.

Meanwhile on the approaching transport ship, in the stinking cargo hold that reeked of rust, blood and the general stink of a heavily used ship the sisters of battle stood guard around the unconscious form of Valeria, the living weapon that they had secured at great cost to their order. Some fifty fellow sisters lay dead on the world below as their living sisters departed.
Their eyes where fixed on her, nervous hands gripping their electro staffs as they made sure to keep a healthy distance from her, even if the beast was secured by heavy chains and electronic suppressors.
One of the sisters, a relative new addition to the order turned to her older and far more seasoned sister and asked with a uneasy tone in her voice.
“ Have you ever seen a thing like this before? I mean who in their right mind let such a abomination run free? Whomever let her loose better hope he or she is dead by now.”

“don’t piss yourself girl, and yes. I think I have seen one of these things before, but its hard to say for sure. Assassins seldom hang around to chat after they are done, let alone one as nasty as this one. And if she was let loose well I would not worry about the one that did so.”
Before the younger sister could reply a tortured groan slipped out from the still woman on the floor. It was a horrible thing to hear, a mixture between pain, fear and pure lust for either release or blood. They could now see the breath of the price in the cold air of the cargo hold.
It was then that the senior sister of them gave the order.
“You heard the Cannones! Fry her and make sure she stays down!”

She lay there in silence and pain, feeling the blood call surge trough her abused and now very much exhausted body. But she could feel her inner implants and the ones in her armour do their task with brutal efficiency, the sore and abused muscles being rejuvenated by the vile chemical cocktail now flowing trough her system.
She could feel the shudder of the ship as it broke free of the atmosphere and reached the cold vacuum of the void. The metal below her grew colder and colder until it stung her bloody chin and made her short hair tingle.
The cold sting of heavy chains could also be felt on her hands, legs and around her waist. So this was how far these new found “allies” trusted her. Even after she had carved a bloody path for them to safety. Never been one to trust anyone, even before her capture and transformation into this tortured form. So she was not very surprised but non the less, traitors would still pay a bloody price for once more placing her in chains.
She drew a deep breath and let go of all her mental restraints and barriers, the safeguards that had kept the voices of the empyrean at bay and allowed its wonderful choir to sing its dreamy tunes to her.
And with a otherworldly screech she tore the restraints of, even as the deadly surges of energy danced across her body. Her talons flexed as the chains broke and sent metal fragments flying like shrapnel and the panicked shouts of the electro staff armed sisters.

A staff caught her in the shoulder and the scent of charred flesh and hot metal filled the air and she screamed in pain as she gripped the staff with her hands. And with all her unholy strength she ripped the staff from the grip of the sister that had been wielding it.
Spinning it around her to clear some space and to secure her rear and flanks she reversed the spin and with murderous joy impaled the now weapon-less sister and gunned the activation rune, unleashing a torrent of power that cooked the innards of the screaming woman and reduced her to a lump of boiled meat and hair inside her armour. Now the hour of reckoning was indeed at hand for these warrior brides of the carrion lord of mankind.
The rest of them fell back, stunned by the sheer brutality and horrid speed the assassin had cooked their comrade with her own electro staff.
“Drop that hag! Open fire!” the veteran sister screamed as she levelled her bolter that she had drawn after dropping her staff.
The bolter barked as she sprayed from the hip as the assassin dodged left and vaulted over a sister to her left, and with a brutal twist snapped the neck of the screaming young recruit and as if to spite those that still lived she buried her fangs in the neck of the now dead girl and came away with a bloodied mouth and a hungry gleam in her deranged eyes.
Sensing despair Valeria picked up the staff dropped by the now dead recruit as she barely avoided a hail of shots that pinged of the hull behind her, and sent sparks flying.
“Let us dance my pretties!” she cackled madly and jinked left, as a bolt round nicked her shoulder pad and almost knocked her of her feet and another grazed her left hip, leaving a bloody cut that stung painfully as her own blood stained the floor red.

Snarling like the wounded beast she was, Valeria dropped low and caught another painful and numbing blow from a electro staff. But her heavily augmented body allowed her to fight trough the brutal shock to her nerve system and reward her would be headsman with a hard blow to her armoured chest that knocked her of balance. And allowed the assassin to follow up with a brutal head butt before slamming her own staff that she had in hand down across the face of her foe.
What followed was noting short of a massacrer in the heartbeats it took those whom had heard the screams of the dying from the other side of the heavy blast door that now slid slowly open and revealed the gory remains of the would be guards.
All except for one lay in unnatural positions, or torn to bloody pieces by their deranged killer.

But opening the door was something those that lived still would regret, for from the darkness of the cargo hold came a menacing sound. It resembled more the cold laughter of a daemon lord eye up its prize, or that of a traitor Astartes that had disarmed his foe than something that would come from the lips of a creature that had once been human.
Then they saw her, stepping into the beam of lights projected by their flash lights and the light spilling in from the section behind them they saw what would be their end.

Is it me, or did she just go all Golum? Me thinks the =][= will have a nice surprise when the now auto-piloted transport comes in to land and he's there to greet it.

 Necroagogo wrote:
It's a shame ... I quite liked those Sisters ...

I was not wrong.

Nicely-orchestrated carnage! I'm looking forward to seeing and learning more about the assassin as this goes on.

 Necroagogo wrote:

 Necroagogo wrote:
It's a shame ... I quite liked those Sisters ...

I was not wrong.

Nicely-orchestrated carnage! I'm looking forward to seeing and learning more about the assassin as this goes on.

You make it sound like I have a habit of disposing of the folsk you like in my stories But yes, I am very much pleased with this one

The scent of blood filled her nostrils as she watched the ferro steel doors slide open, and the ghostly lights from those that had just heard heir sisters die a horrible death dance across the dark and bloodstain cargo hold, where she had been chained mere moments ago.
In her mind the words spoken by the one that had seduced her weary and abused mind with faked compassion, played over and over as she hugged the shadows, while feeling anger mixed with both despair and a deep sense of betrayal that played havoc upon her.
It was this finale drop that broke the dam that had held all her suppressed memories under lock and key so to speak. Her psychic wards broke and with it the cold sensation of just what her captors had done to her began to slowly filter down into what remained of her sanity.
There was now noting that remained of the finale restraints placed upon her, or embedded in her minds by the twisted geniuses of the cult mechanicus.
She could almost see herself as if standing some distance away, and looking at her own battered and bloody form lurking in the darkness, then the sound of her own laughter broke the spell and she found herself moving out from the darkness and into the rays of light that danced on the walls and floor that now had a shade of rusty red to them.

Gripping the staff she had used to dispatch the last of her would be guards she came walking towards them, several of the sisters raised their bolters as if to fire. But their fingers would not obey them, for inside their minds they could feel the cold and spine-chilling touché of the figure that drew near to them.
“ Feel the pain your bastard of a master caused me, feel the decade of agony, torture and beatings I suffered” she growled as she unleashed a blast of psychic energy that sent the would be shooters reeling, with agony gripping their bodies as the blast broke bones and made their heads spin with dizziness that blurred their eyes, and made their hands drop the weapons that they had held moments before.
One sister managed to remove her helm with trembling hands, and in fear and pain she vomited blood and bile as ripples of pain from her ruined body stole her consciousness and sent her into the darkness.
Around her the others slumped down too, too ravaged by the brutal mental assault, and the sheer bone chilling aura of fear that radiated from the assassin that now had at last cast her shackles of, and seeked revenge on all those that she perceived had a hand in her sufferings over the years.
Stepping over the twitching corpses the baleful figure walked into the waiting light of the main cargo bay, where she knew the others would be waiting.
Meanwhile, on the unmarked ship that hung in orbit that transported the good lord Inquisitor there was confusion in the air, some minutes ago all contact had been lost with the incoming transport ship. And the rather unpleasant anger of their lord made everyone aboard the ship all the more determined to find out just why the transport had fallen silent as it began its finale approach.
Aboard the bridge Romanov stood, leaning on his cane and feeling the residual pain wash trough his body, but he did show any sign of the pain as he watched the crew working feverishly to come up with a answer to what had happened abroad the now silent transport. Letting out a muffled breath of annoyance he turned to the officer in charge.
“Well I hope you have an answer for me boy!”
“We do my lord, scans seems to indicate that there has been a major malfunction of the life support system. Since there only seems to be two life forms abroad according to the scans we have preformed, there also seems to have been some sort of malfunction of either internal systems or something far worse, considering the cargo they where transport my lord. “ the gaunt officer said, and maintained the stoic calm he was known for abroad the ship, he had served his lord for almost twenty years and had never failed him. Nor would he fail now in this moment of destiny.

“Hmm I see, good work boy. Keep me informed of any changes that may occur.”
“ Understood sire, you will be the first to know it.”

In the hangar that would receive the now eerily silent transport there was a flurry of activity, the ships contingent of Inquisitorial storm troopers rushed to their designated position. And the navy arms men also stood ready to offer their support if need be.
Countless deck hands and servitors hauled cables and other sorts of equipment around, and prepared to handle the incoming ship that no one really knew what carried, except for their master and his closest henchmen that where at this very moment making their way towards the hangar bay.
The stench of grease, promethium and the hot stinking sweat of the labouring deck hands mixed with the recycled air and gave the whole place a very distinct and deeply unpleasant stink.
As the massive blast doors that lead into the hangar slid open, and the lord Inquisitor entered alongside his henchmen and other assorted servants a klaxon announced that the silent transport was due to land in two standard minutes.
Romanov looked to his side and let his eyes inspect his personal protection team, all where veterans in his service for many a bloody wars and covert operations, all fine fighting men but yet he found himself wishing he had accepted the offer for a far more numerous and hard hitting retinue from one of his close allies some months ago.
But noting to with that now, he hoped he could have this matter dealt with fast and without much hassle, although having to explain how a full strike force of battle sisters had meet their end on one of his own transports would be irritating at best.

Then the loudspeakers sounded again and announced that the incoming vessel would begin its landing now, and that all hands where to report to their respective stations and await orders.
With a hiss the shields that protected the hangar from both incoming fire in the case of attack, and debris floating about in space deactivated, and allowed the ship to glide in with its landing lights glaring and its hull hissing with heat, and the sounds of cooling metal filling the air alongside the air with a distinct smell of burnt ozone.
“Open her up! And find out what in the nine circles of hell went wrong!” he said as a brutal wave of agony assaulted his body once more, reminding him that he was far from well. No matter what he would try to force himself to belief. He gripped the cane so hard with his bionic arm that the ivory began to crack and come apart in his vice like grip.
Obeying the command of their master the labourers and deck hands began to drag heavy welding gear, and other means to pry open the hull of the damned ship.
Soon the stinking air inside the hangar began to fill with the stench of molten steel as the workers sliced a great hole in the flank of the ship.
As the metal began to cool and the work crews drew back, to allow the breaching squads of storm troopers to form up, in preparations of their search of the silent ship.
Romanov coughed and spat blood as he limped forwards, shadowed by his personal retainers, the old man seemed transfixed by the ship. Lost in deep thought as if he thought he could unravel the mystery by simply glaring at the ship.
His moment of silent thought was ended when one of the tech priests that where monitoring the sensory equipped servitors began to curse the device he held in his hands, in a most ill tempered way while making obscene threats to his menials.
“Something wrong with that servitor of yours I assume” the inquisitor said as he watched the the tech priest take a deep breath before answering him.
“The damnable thing and its equally useless kind has gone dark, I swear I will force feed whomever made them a barrel of lubricant when I get my mechandrites on them.”
“Gone dark? All of them at once? Or did they fail one after another?”
“Well yes, that was so infuriating. They began to fail one by one. I suspect that the wiring and the serial connection implanted in them where faulty, or substandard. “
“ Hmm I see, well I would suggest that you make sure to have better terms for acquiring such things then,”

but before the pair could continue their argument over faulty servitor parts, a pale faced tech adept came running down the boarding ramp and headed towards the inquisitor. His hands and robes red with blood and gore. His eyes wide with shock and perhaps panic as he came to a rest before his master.
“ Sire, its an absolute nightmare inside that damned rust bucket. Whatever those poor souls where transporting must have broken free.”
“What do you mean man! Do you mean to tell me that there is no one left alive inside that ship? “
“Well no one except for one my lord, we found her under a pile of corpses and with ghastly wounds upon her. The medicae are working on her now as we speak.

For being dumb enough to let the shuttle dock, Romanov deserves all that's coming to him.

I look forward to more carnage. Nice description of all things shipboard, Trondheim!

 Necroagogo wrote:
For being dumb enough to let the shuttle dock, Romanov deserves all that's coming to him.

I look forward to more carnage. Nice description of all things shipboard, Trondheim!

Thank you, and yes, The judgement behind that particular decisison will definitly come back to haunt him so to speak

Pain and the horrid sense of having failed her sacred vows and oaths mixed and only added their weight to the torment that surged trough her body, as she felt the hands of the medical personnel on her as they pulled the corpses and body parts of her now dead fellow sisters of her.
Drifting in and out of consciousness as a result of the severe blood loss she had suffered, and the stinging pain that radiated from the stump of her arm that had been ripped of at the elbow also made staying awake harder and harder.
But the one thing that kept her somewhat awake was the face of the beast that had killed her sisters, and savaged her before the horrible choir of voices from beyond the veil had reached into her mind, and showed her the secrets of the man that had sent her and the ones that had followed her to their death. She had been unable to withstand the furious and frightening assault that the living weapon had unleashed upon her, and now as she lay like a bloody and torn rag doll upon the stretcher the medical personnel carried her on she could only feel one emotion burning in her soul. And that was cold murderous rage.
The rage made her wounds throb with pain and sent flares of agony down her spine as she let out a tortured gasp as the medical team hurried along, while trying to stem the flow of blood from her wounds, and to ease her pain with a cocktail of powerful pain killers and muscle relaxing drugs. But in her mind she could still picture the one that had lured herself and her sisters to part take in this mad chase for personal glory and power.
All her thoughts focused on that she would have her revenge, in either this life or the next. These was her last thoughts as unconsciousness claimed her and sent her spiralling down into a dreamland of violent, colourful and utterly borderline feelings of lust as the darkness opened its maw and swallowed her whole.

Lord Inquisitor Romanov was having a moment of deep and utterly worry, the search parties abroad the ship that had docked, had yet to find any signs of its precious cargo. All they had found was the butchered remains of dead crew men and the equally ravaged remains of the battle sisters that had died aboard that ship of the damned.
The holo pictures shown to him showed bulk heads riddled with bolter and las fire, deep gouges on the metal floor left by that infernal creation that had someone how gotten loose from its restraints and then proceeded to butcher everyone abroad, save the mangled Cannones and the silent and understandably unknowing servitor that had served as a second pilot.
The thing had been taken away by the adeptus mechanicus personnel for further study and dismantling. But he did not hold much hope for any clear answers from that thing.
No the only one that could have answered him was the now unconscious and gravely wounded Cannones that was under heavy guard by the few of her sisters that had remained on the ship, and even he did not feel up to the task of arguing with the barely restrained fury those harpies now seemed to simmer with.
Feeling something equal to despair beginning to form within his dark mind the old and crippled hunter of heretics and their infernal masters growled a few order’s to his men. All of whom seemed more than pleased to slip away and carry out their tasks than to remain anywhere near their lord.
Drawing a deep breath and cursing his folly he opened a vox link to the captain of the ship, and spoke the words he never imagined, or had dared imagined he would utter in this miserable life of his.
“ Open a emergency channel to the orbiting Space Wolf flagship, and send emergency communication Aleppo to whomever commands that damned ship. When that is done power down all engines, and await the answer from the wolves. I will be in my quarters until it comes.”

“ Aye my lord, I will personally send the message and see to that the answer reaches you as fast as the Emperor allows. “

The stoic and as always calm captain of the Inquisitorial ship opened a secure communication link from his command throne.
It took a few seconds for the communication request to reach the other ship, and a few more for the individual overseeing the communication station on the other end to set up a stable and secure feed.
The hololitich picture crackled as interference from a distant star affected the link. But the picture remained and showed just whom commanded the other ship.

A massive figure clad in battle scared armour and with long locks of braided hair and beard, decorated with skulls that where both human and xeno. And brass charms to ward of the foul arts of the dark powers, a pair of cold and savage eyes that looked like two ice cold orbs of ice gazed back at the captain. All this alongside the mark of many a long and bloody century passed in the service of the all father gave Harald Haråde a feral yet regal look.
“Why have you sent this message human? I assume you are well aware of the dire nature of such a squeal for help? “ the giant said with a poorly hidden look of morbid satisfaction upon his ravaged face as he awaited the answer from the mortal that had contacted his flagship as he and his company prepared to depart from the smouldering world that lay far, far below them.
They had cut out the hearth of the rebellion, and slaughtered just about anyone that dared to draw breath and was not a loyal subject to the imperium. And now as his warriors cleansed the blood of the disloyal scum and washed down the bloody taste of victory with vast amounts of cold Fenrisian mead and songs about the deeds they had done, and the honour their great company had earned.
“ My lord and master deemed it such that he requires the aid of the Adeptus Astartes in dealing with a particulary dangerous, and now escaped subject of great interest to him. What answer should I give him?” the man said without missing a beat, and showing any signs of feeling intimidated by the snarling image of the wolf lord.
The answer seemed to the captain to be wrapped in poorly hidden pleasure, knowing that the Inquisition required the aid of a chapter many of their own counted as borderline heretical at best.
Grinning from ear to ear the wolf lord gave his answer to the captain.
“ Tell him that he will get the help he needs to save his incompetent arse, and tell him if that he dares to contact me again there will be no pit in the nine circles of the abyss deep enough to hide in!” and with that snarling threat the lord of the sons of Fenris cut the link.
Letting out a deep breath, and steeling his nerves the captain sent a short message to the lord Inquisitor as he also issued the order to sound the alarm to get all those serving under him to stand to their battle stations, and for all naval security teams aboard his ship to read for a ship wide sweep for the yet to be found object of interest.
As if driven by some suppressed thought he felt on his hip for both his side arm, and the ornate sabre that he carried. Perhaps it was just a reflex but he somehow felt uneasy by this whole ordeal and could not wait to have it all dealt and buried under secrecy.
At that moment, in the darkness of the now silent hangar bay where the transport ship had docked, a lone figure dropped down from the place it had been hiding. Having avoided the countless search parties that had looked for her, both aboard the transport and on the great ship itself she now was free to set about reaping her bloody and personal brand of repayment for all the acts of cruelty, the countless hours of torment and agony and the feeling of that despair that had gnawed her sanity to noting more than frayed ends.

The call for aid was answered by a lone gun ship, its navigation lights turned of, and just the white hot engines to tell it apart from the darkness of the void. It banked hard and the pilot began to slow his ship down and making the last preparations for docking it. Having served the wolves for countless centuries the ship was a precious relic of the chapter, and in its cold metal womb the warriors that would come to the aid of the mewling mortals waited for it to land.
Everyone last one of those twenty warriors was clad in sacred suits of runic war plate and armed with the best weapons available to them, five of them clutched massive shields in one armoured fist and a equally ornate bolter in the other. They alongside their leader whom carried a brutal looking chain axe forged from some dark metal, and its teeth gleaming in the cold light of the sole source of illumination inside the ship. The warrior held in his other hand a bolt pistol that clearly had seen heavy use, for it was stained with red spots and traces of sooth was visible on its brass decorated maw. Gundleif growled beneath his helmeted head and took a deep breath as the pilot announced that they would land in a few heartbeats, he had never enjoyed flying. Even less so when he had to deal with incompetent humans and all their foolish impulses.
As the ship shuddered as it touched down in the designated hangar bay, and the hiss of cooling metal could be heard all around the towering wolf guard stood up and all of his brothers did so to, each one a seasoned veteran and with more blood on their hands than most. They where the blunt instrument of enforcement their lord unleashed when something or someone needed to die in a gory and horrid way.
The boarding ramp fell down, and without a single word spoken the twenty strong group strode fourth.
Outside in the harsh light of the massive flood lights that illuminated the hangar they definitely looked like the myths that where told about the sons of Fenris, their massive forms dwarfing the mortals that awaited them there.
Romanov had very seldom if ever felt afraid or threatened, but when he watched the twenty towering figures stride down the boarding ramp, and the sense of inhumane power and sheer animalistic fury held in check by centuries of fighting, and iron like discipline did he feel a cold shiver worm its way into his body. He had dreaded to take such desperate measures but he knew that the compliment of storm troopers and the brave teams of naval security personnel would not be enough to stop the predator that was on the prowl.
Sitting in his own private quarters and watching the wolf guards form up behind the one that seemed to be their leader he cursed his own foolishness for letting this whole ordeal get so out of hand, he should have ordered the transport blown out of the void the moment it went silent. And doing so would have cleared his own name and reputation from any stains too. That and it would have saved him from having to resort to this last panicked attempt at regaining control.

In silent and gloomy bowls of the ship she stalked forwards, her whole self drenched in gore and the remains of her last kills. Her talon like fingers clutching the twin power blades she had claimed from one of the weaklings she had torn to shreds. The familiar weight and balance of them giving her some small comfort in that not everything was lost to her. She remembered whom had gifted them to her before her capture and transformation. And she remembered how that person had died in her arms.
And inside her mind the voices continued to sing and the gifts they granted her allowed her to reach out with her mind, or to pulp her enemies with waves upon waves of raw psychic power. But her prey would die with her own two hands wrapped around his neck, and the sense of utter horror creeping into his guts before he died.
Smiling like some feral beast she crept between the shadows, and watched the group of heavily armed navy arms men drawing nearer, as they no doubly scoured the ship after her.
When they where no more than ten meters from her, she exploded into action. Gone was the need to scream and shot, to make the enemy soil themselves in fear. No they would die like cattle under the butchers blade.

Loved that update, Trondheim. Your Space Wolves are almost as scary as the assassin. Looking forward to seeing how she matches up against them!

Gundleift stood silent in the pale light of the hangar alongside his brothers, his axe at his side as they awaited the arrival of the one that had sent the panicked, and rather amusing call for aid. Although his lord had snarled like a thunder wolf and vowed to slay every last one of that wicked sort of man, he had sent his most able servants to see to that the fool was granted the aid he pleaded for.
He had seen six centuries of bloody mayhem, desperate last stands and the deaths of whole worlds, both at the hands of his enemies and at the hands of the imperium. Behind the savage looking exterior the wolf guard veteran hid brooding mind, that seldom saw the feeble rays of hope and thoughts of jubilation. He was in many ways strikingly reassembling of his lord and brother in arms Harald Haråde.
As he stood there, with his mind set on the task at hand a sudden change in the air made his senses flare. And it seemed his kin had sensed it too, before any of the humans that stood and gaped at them could react they where faced with the full fire-power of the two squads of Space Wolves aimed at the source of the new odour mixing in with the stink of fuel, cooling metal and the pungent stink of cooling liquid dripping onto the cold metal deck.
Then he saw him, limping as a wounded carrion eater the Lord Inquisitor clad in his ornate armour and gripping his cane in one hand, seemed more like a war ravaged general of sorts than someone that hunted heretics and other foul things in the depths of some stinking hive city. But he did not let himself be lulled by this false look of someone posing as a valiant defender of man kind. He could count the number of Inquisitors worth their salt on three fingers, that he had the somewhat dubious honour of meeting.
The pale figure came to a halt before him, and craned his neck backwards to look at the helmeted figure of the veteran. Speaking with a firm voice, but one that carried hidden traces of desperation he spoke.
“Glad to see that your lord still remembers some manner of good and courteous behaviour after all. Your arrival will be the key to saving this ship, and all abroad it from certain and bloody demise. Before we start I would like to see your face son of Fenris, if you would be so kind to indulge a cripple to such a wish” he finished, sweat now beading on his forehead as if the effort to speak, let alone stand up cost him much in the way of will power and strength.

Compared to the civilized tone and manner of the inquisitor, Gundleif sounded more like a snarling beast when he gave his answer to the request from the weakling that stood before him.
“ You do not need to see my face human, or see the scars I have earned in the name of the all father! My lord sent me here to save your sorry hide from your own creations! But if it can keep you from pissing your pants so be it.” the scarred warrior said and moved to remove his helm with one hand, the hiss of pressurized air giving of a small whistling sound. As he hooked his helmet on his mag belt his feral features came into view. Skin marred by countless scars and savage weather back home on Fenris, his long bloodstained beard and the mane of hair he wore added further to the look of savagery about his person.

“Hmm I see that being polite or acting diplomatic is not a skill that is heavily refined on Fenris”
If the inquisitor had been hoping to make the veteran smile or maybe feel somewhat more at ease he did not get the result he wanted. Instead Gundleif only gave him a cold glare before he barked a command to his brothers, in the harsh Fenrisian native tongue.
His brothers wasted no time in following the command given by their irritated leader, twenty helmeted heads glared at the humans and post human creations that stood and looked at them for a short moment, their dislike for being sent here clear upon their armoured forms. Although no one spoke a word.
“ We will find whatever has gotten loose, and we will kill it and secure your ship inquisitor Romanov. But I suggest that you find somewhere safe to hide, but fear not. You will not go alone.” Gundleif said with a morbid smile upon his face.

“ Ten of my brothers will accompany you to ensure your safety, no harm will come to you as long as they still draw breath I can assure you inquisitor.”
“ Well then.... I will not keep your from your prey then and my thanks for the ample security provided by your brothers. Good hunting! “
And with that the towering figure of the veteran wolf guard leader lead his most able companions towards the bowls of the ship, the sounds of their heavy footfalls echoing along the corridors and signalling to their prey that there would be no place to hide from the wrath of the sons of Fenris.

Meanwhile the wolves began their hunt another predator had just claimed another kill, her blades where stained with gore, and her features equally showered in blood and viscera. Around her lay the remains of a naval security team that had gotten in her way.
Their broken forms lay all around her, as she flicked the off switch on her twin power blades, as if in a trance she stood there and watched a single drop of blood run down the length of the curved blade before falling to the ground and shattering into a thousand ruby red mini droplets.
Slowly the red haze and howling choir of voices faded away and her ice cold demeanour appeared once more.
She knew that she could not linger her, for that was to risk detection, death or even worse capture. For her keen senses and ghost sight warned her of a coming storm, already she could feel the heavy vibrations in the deck under her feat.
She knew not what was coming her way, but it could not be anything good. Most likely cyber Ogryns or some other twisted and lethal creation of her own makers design.
She knew that she had to escape this damnable floating prison of hers, her personal vengeance would be wasted if she could not slip away into the shadows afterwards. So it was at that moment that a plan began to form in her mind.
A bloody grin played across her lips as she bent down and grabbed the remains of a naval security trooper that had lost his head to her blades, however his uniform was still intact......
so with no hesitation she swung the headless corps across her shoulders and disappeared into the darkness to assume the new identity of hers.
She soon came to a quiet and secluded corridor where she could not sense any foes, and thus she dropped the stiff corps down. And began the painful process to shed her dented and battle scared suit of armour. The effort made her grin as she felt the cold embrace of the stale air upon her pale and stinking skin.
The process made her bite her lower lip in agony as she peeled her dented and scarred breastplate of and dropped it down with a muffled clang.
The rest of the worn suit of armour came of relatively easy but it still made her eyes water, and shivers of agony shoot up her spine.
Then as the last piece of that cursed suit came away she could not help but grin from ear to ear. Finally she was free of that thing that had subjected her to so much pain and misery. Even if it had saved her life on several occasions. She then started to strip the corps that lay at her feet of the uniform it wore, she pulled of the dark fatigues, webbing and other assorted gear.
After a few minutes a new figure stood there, clad in baggy pants secured by a leather belt and with a somewhat to big jacket and under shirt and gripping the ugly looking auto shotgun that the previous wielder had no longer any use for.
Growling she gripped the bloodied helmet that contained the head of the dead man, and with a firm grip she pulled it out and tossed it aside.
Dressed in her new attire the assassin began to make her way towards the upper decks of the immense inquisitorial ship.

It might work for Indiana Jones but it won't work against the acute senses of the Space Wolves!

As always, great descriptions of the sons of Fenris. Good to see the tale update!

 Necroagogo wrote:
It might work for Indiana Jones but it won't work against the acute senses of the Space Wolves!

As always, great descriptions of the sons of Fenris. Good to see the tale update!

Well that may be, but then again I would still be worried if I where on that ship. Now to ramp up the bodycount!

Gundleif and his brothers stalked trough the bowls of the enormous ship in silence, had it not been for the long shadows cast by them one would not have believed them to still remain on the ship.
The stench of stale air, sweat, blood and misery hung heavily in the air as the pack of wolves hunted their elusive prey.
They had until now only seen a handful of signs of her passing, but as they pushed deeper and deeper into the bowls of the ship they had begun to find more solid proof of her presence, or at least her passing.
Butchered Navy arms men and inquisitorial troops decorated the hallways and the dimly light chambers with their blood, and the walls, floor and ceiling bore witness to their desperation as their killer had fallen upon them with vengeance burning bright.
As he and his comrades entered one massive hall that where clearly a research or manufacturing facility of sorts a vile stench hit their noses. It was the burning stench of sulphur and other far, far more deadly chemicals contained in great drums, but there where also the raw stink of embalming fluid and rotting meat mixed with the sensation of despair and forlorn hope.

Raising one massive hand to signal his brothers to fan out he felt a eerie feeling crawl up his spine as he took a cautions step forwards into this sanatorium of some clearly very, very unhinged soul.
Opening a secure vox link he spoke in a low tone.
“ My lord, it seems the good inquisition has kept us in the dark. But I fear there are far, far worse things loose here than a mere rouge assassin.”
From the other end of the vox link came a rumbling answer more akin to thunder than the voice of a human.
“Just what do you mean Gundleif? What else has that stumbling fool kept abroad that ship of the damned of his?”
“Transferring helmet feed now my lord.”
The grainy hololitich video feed showed a nightmarish selection of various surgical implements, a gore stained operating table and other sadistic and twisted flesh crafting tools, alongside numerous containers that seemed to contain the remains of deceased test subject, or at least the wolf guard veteran hoped they where dead and free from this horrid place.
It also showed numerous empty suits of what seemed to be power armour forged for some augmented fiend, most likely created within this abhorrent place.
Alongside those empty suits of war plate crafted for someone far smaller than him hung a sinister selection of blades and other implements of death.
“ Are you seeing this sire? I have a sneaking suspicion that there is more to this supposedly rouge assassin than the slippery serpent is telling us. “
“Agreed brother! Keep vigilant, both for that insidious beast and the good lord inquisitor too.”

Taking a step backwards and drawing his sword out of pure reflex and pressing the activation rune, signalling his brothers with a hand gesture the hunters began to make their way our of the accursed chamber of madness.
As they rounded the last row of chemical filled glass tanks and it seemed that they would need to press on in their hunt a low and sinister laughter filled the air and the sound of soft footsteps could be heard from somewhere behind them.
Gundleif froze as if struck with a spell, he felt a pang of unease worm its way into his bone marrow, and he could almost smell the same feeling coming from his brothers that stood around him, with weapons ready for violence and their keen senses searching for any signs of their prey.
“ We leave brothers! This is not the place to let loose with bolters and flamers, Russ only knows what sort of diabolic chemicals that mad man had brought aboard the ship.”
Taking a deep breath of the foul air that reeked of the foul chemicals and dried blood and other foul things.


Meanwhile the space wolfs hunted the escaped assassin and the lord inquisitor felt his unease continue to build, someone else abroad the ship was too feeling the atmosphere grow ever more filled with distrust and suspicion.
In the medical facility the few surviving sisters of battle stood in silence and with grim faces, their leader and beloved leader had escape death, and her wounds although grave had not incapacitated her. Instead they seemed to have opened her eyes so to speak, she seemed to simmer with barely contained fury and pent up murderous blood-lust.
Her temper in this moment was a far cry from what it normally was. As the medicae personnel finished stitching her wounds she snarled at them like a wounded beast, making the nervous staff almost flee before her.
Now she stood on her feet, and swung her arms, as if testing if her mobility was still to be counted on. Although her wounds caused her some pain it was not something she could not deal with, she had felt far worse pain in ages gone past.
“Bring me my armour!” she snapped to the only one still in the med bay that was not of her beloved order, the silent figure of the tech priest simply looked at her with his red glowing eyes and with his mechandrites weaving around at his side.
“My lady, the suit you wore where badly mangled in battle, and it is the main reason that you still draw breath. It will take many weeks to repair and properly bless it before it can be used again. But however it seems the machine god smiles at you, for I have a suit of war plate at hand that can be fielded at once. But be warned, its a relic and thus irreplaceable.” the half man, half machine said in his customary flat tone.
“Bring...me...the...suit” the warrior woman growled from behind clenched teeth as she ripped out the intravenous tubes the medical personnel had implanted her with to provided her with both blood and fluids alongside painkillers.
The mad look in her eyes and the way her whole body seemed to radiate barely contained fury certainly seemed to hasten the pace of witch the tech priest started to summon his thralls and other various minions.
Her fellow sisters stood silently and like statues forged from obsidian and gold they awaited the commands of their enraged leader and beloved mistress.
The most senior of them, a slim yet predatory looking woman with dirty blond hair and ice cold eyes stepped forwards and while kneeling before her mistress she presented her with something that made the Cannones shiver with anticipation.
It was a long slender power sword, its hilt forged from silver and brass with a pommel shaped to resemble the two headed imperial eagle. Its blade forged from some of the rarest materials known to mankind and its makers.
Almost as if cradling a newborn the warrior held her new blade, and notion her underling to rise she took a practice swipe with it. Feeling how well the weapon rested in her hand.

As she stood there naked, with blade in hand the doors slid opened and the tech priest returned with his thralls and menials, prepared for dressing the lady in the new suit of war plate and blessing it and her while doing so.
None of the menials dared meet her eyes nor did any of the tech adepts that followed their master to aid him in this matter.
But she would not spare them a glance even if they did drool over her naked form, her body was a temple dedicated to the master of mankind and saviour of the race of men. And no bodily desires and feelings could be found within her except rage and righteous fury aimed at the criminal that had forsaken her sisters and brought about this madness.





Gundleif and his brothers stalked down the halls in silence, their bolters and other weapons raised and ready to unleash hell should their prey show itself.
As the hunting party rounded a corner they came upon a scene of utter devastation. And one that made even harden killers like themselves somewhat uneasy, for in front of them lay piles of bodies, body parts scattered to the four winds and the walls bore testimony of the insanely brutal and desperate fight that had taken place here.
“ Fan out and look for any clues or wounded for that matter. Put them out of their misery and move on” he growled as he stepped over what looked like the corps of a navy arms man, but the corps was so bloodied and mutilated that he was not able to make an positive identification.
The HUD display in his helmet blinked to inform him that the machine spirit could only register the life signs of his brothers, and that no other life forms was within the immediate area.
The grim warriors fanned out and started to look over the heaps of mangled and broken bodies.
All was quiet except for the sounds of the dead bodied being shifted.

But then suddenly like a warp spawned horror a sleek and gruesome figure dropped down from the darkness above them, and with one swift strike of her curved power blades she decapitated the two wolf guards that had stood below her as she dropped down like a hawk.
Her deranged laughter rang out and filled the blood stained corridors as the still standing wolf guards turned, and roared in anger.
Bolter’s and combi weapons barked, spitting death and kicking up showers of sparks as the mass reactive rounds missed their intended target and instead punched holes in the walls of the ships, or pinged of the massive steel pipes or bulk heads.
“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” Gundleif roared over the din of gunfire and assorted weapon fire, he was the one whom stood furthers away from the scene of the death of his brothers.
Seeing the clear danger and the sheer murderous prowess of their foe, he knew that to empty ones weapon in a display of anger and fury was to invite bloody death.
Gripping his trusty weapon the towering figure ran towards the horrid scene that was unfolding before his eyes, two of his comrades was already dead. Their souls gone to sit by the side of the all father, and another lay still in a pool of blood. His own blade protruding from his neck.

Yay - update! Although you're only really teasing us with this one, Trondheim. It looks to me like it could be the Sister riding to the rescue of the Wolves.

Bet they won't make a saga out of that one!

Fun stuff. More, please.

Glad you liked it then, and sorry to have kept you waiting so long. Life has been somewhat evil as of late, but yes. Now I am back

Well time will tell in that regard

Gundleif saw that his surviving brothers had heard his command, and where now falling back. Snapping of short bursts of fire to keep the fiend back.
Raising his trusty blade and barring his fangs he growled at her as they stood opposing each other, one clad in form fitting body glove and armour, the other a towering giant clad in runic armour and armed with weapons fit to serve gods of old.
One a product of decades of torture, augmentation and maddens while the other was a several century old veteran of bloody wars, and gruesome battels that would have left any mortal broken and utterly mad beyond all help.
Speaking with a voice that was deceivingly cold and flat the veteran addressed his brothers.
“Go on, get out of here and zeal the bulkhead behind you. If I die, avenge me and if I live.....well you all own me a tankard of mead! “
Then the towering predator looked at his foe and grinned, almost ear to ear.
“ Come on then! Lets dance harlot!” he said and took one step forwards, blade at his side.

This was of course an invite his deranged foe could not resist, snapping her twin blades up. And flexing her iron like arms she shrieked in something resembling glee and lunged at him, the twin blades spinning in a razor like pattern.
Her flesh made strong by ungodly means and her mind broken and rebuilt countless times drove the screeching woman to press her attack like a crazed daemonic being.
But she was matched equally by her foe. The towering warrior was every bit as deadly as she was, his massive blade blocking and chasing her at every turn, and his feral snarls added their fell tones to her own sounds of rage and pent up blood-lust as the pair fought in a shower of sparks.
To anyone listening in via holo picts or other means the duel must have sounded as if the warp itself had born some growling and screeching beast down in those dark depths of the ship.

Gundleif lunged to one side and barely avoided a scissor like cut from his foe, and responded with a quick series of blows that forced her back.
He was breathing hard and he felt the blood dripping from several small cuts in his face, and other places. But his foe had felt his bite too, her left side was coloured a deep crimson red where a blow had graced her, and she where also missing her left ear. Witch had been bitten of and spat out by her snarling foe.
As the warriors once more came face to face in a shower of sparks and screeching metal as their weapons sought a opening to exploit, events of a equally grim nature was about to unfold elsewhere on this ship of the damned.
Cannones Aritusa stood silent and grim, as the finale parts of her new and hallowed suit of war plate was secured, and the internal systems awoke and came online, feeding her precise and up to date streams of data trough the neural link.
Her face was a sortied mess of dried blood that the medical staff had not washed away, and new gruesome scars. The fact that the woman was on her feet, let alone in such murderously good form made the on hand technicians mumble and shake their heads in belief.
But that was not their doing for the most part, in silence did the sister hospitaler and the ever silent form of the tech priest that seemed to shadow her gaze upon their mistress.
“Tell me sisters, what is the punishment for squandering the time of our order on a personal quest for glory, and power. For wasting the lifeblood of our beloved sisters and casting a shameful shadow upon us that still draws breath?”
None of the grim faced sisters that surrounded her answered their mistress, the now newly armed and armoured woman drew a deep breath and said in a cold tone.
“The punishment is death! No one of these wrenched heretics gets to further sully the realm of mankind!”
Her new second in command, whom had replaced the brave woman whom had died aboard that rusty hulk of a transport spoke with a even tone.
“ Lead us onwards lady Aritusa! We will follow you into the maw of the abyss itself!”
With those simple yet almost cataclysmic words did the sisters that remained raise their weapons, and begin their purge of this ship of the damned.
Watching all this was the silent form of the tech priest, his red glowing eyes observing the beginning of the end, and as the first salvoes of bolter fire began to fill the corridors outside the now empty medical facility and madness seemed to grip every other living soul aboard the ship, a low and utterly inhumane laughter escape from his hidden face.
Mechandrites snapping and his internal and external security running at their absolute maximum the figure made his way to the hanger where his personal transport awaited him.
It had always amused him to play these flesh things up against each other, and to watch them tear each other apart.
But now time was of the essence and he could not linger any longer, to do so was to invite the chance of failure or even worse. Capture by some of these deranged fools.
He sent a subnet instruction to his battle automatons that stood silent guard in his hanger to purge any and all, not of his retinue from said place. And to keep the hanger hermetically shut until he transmitted the proper code for its opening.

The sisters tore trough the panicked and now utterly broken ship crew, and what remained the on board ship security personnel, however they did encounter stiff resistance but noting a hail of Godwin bolter fire and liberal helpings of burning promethium could not break.
Chanting their hymns of purification, purity and zeal the sisters tore trough the ranks of the henchmen of the heretic they where hunting.
“We need to seize the bridge, and disable the life support functions and any automated security measures set against us” Aritusa said as she cleaved a man in two, with her newly acquired blade while her customized inferno pistol cut down several more in a hail of infernal heat and molten metal.
The man that lay cut in two at her feet, wore the uniform of a imperial navy NCO, and his face was pale with horror and disbelief. Still displaying the emotions that had clearly played out in his mind just before he died.
Bending down she ripped a security card from the chest of the man, and inspected it closely as her sisters gunned down the last remains of the navy arms men and other heretical rabble.
Slipping the card into a pouch on her hip she decided it could still come to good use.
“Where do we go mistress? Witch way to the bridge? This damned ship is immense, we cant go stumbling around looking for it can we?”
“No need to worry sister, no need to worry at all. It seems we are not the only ones that has been lost in the bowls of this ship.” Aritusa said and pointed with her glowing blade to a large piece of text, written in Gothic on the wall at the end of the corridor. The text informed that the corridor leading to the bridge was the one to the left at the next intersection, it also informed any visitors to said place was to keep their access cards ready for inspection and use.
“The emperor provides, even for the daft it seems my lady!” the veteran sister said and slammed her
last remaing magazine of fragmentation shells into her bolter.


Meanwhile, far bellow them in the now gloomy ship corridors sealed of from the rest of the ship Gundleif was breathing hard and his body throbbed with pain, but still he stood firm. He comforted himself with that his foe seemed to be equally worse for wear. Her form bloodied form ravaged by the brutal fight against the wolf guard.
He raised his blade and expected her to come at him again, and this time he expected he would not survive the encounter with her twin blades.
“Come on then! Come and try to kill me you damnable charlatan! I have eaten things deadlier than you!” he growled and spat blood, tempting to enrage the fiend and thus maybe gain the upper hand.
As if prodded with an electro staff the howling assassin exploded into motion, one blade held in a reverse grip she pelted towards him, eyes glowing with hate and blood-lust.
She moved as the wind that swept across Asaheim, and as she leapt into the air, her foe brought his blade to block her. But even he could see that he could not raise it in time. So he did what he did best.
She could almost taste his life blood, and the look of acceptance in the eyes of the towering prey made it all the better, and now she would end this before claiming the last kill that mattered.
But then a force like that of an bullet striking a man on the day of his execution caused her to veer of course, and collide with the wall in a bone crushing collision.
Then she heard the howl of the wolf and saw his gore stained gauntlet grip his blade, it was then she realized that she was mortally wounded. Her feet would not respond as she tried to get up so she could at least die on her feet. Her head lolled as she felt the damaged nerves protest as she tried yet again to get up but she could not.
Blood dripped down from her mouth and she could also feel the tangy taste of bile at the back of her throat.

Gundleif looked down at his now gore stained fist, it reeked of chemicals and mineral rich blood.
He picked up the blade that he had dropped with the same hand that had struck the crushing blow. It would be good to just leave the wrenched thing to bleed out but he could not bring himself to let her lay and bleed to death, not after having proven such a worthy foe. He gathered himself and stood there looming over her, weapon in hand and aimed at her.
As he raised the blade he realized that she was weeping blood, and that her broken lips where trying to form words.
Deciding that anything that this crazed killer could say was not for a sane mind, he activated the recording function in his helmet and listed to the broken words she struggled to deliver as she lay there dying and with her body broken and beyond all help.
When she was done he reloaded his bolt pistol and looked down at her.
“ Find whatever peace that awaits your unfortunate kind assassin!” he said and aimed the pistol and pulled the trigger.
The mass reactive round slammed into her skull and shattered it, send shards of bone, metal and other things he did not know what was flying. Opening his vox link he contacted his surviving brothers.
“It is done. Open the blast doors! I will have words with that wrenched vermin”

Go Gundleif! Visceral fight, well-described.

More gore yet to be splattered before the tale's told, I trust!

As the massive blast doors slid open and revealed the bloodied and haggard form of the wolf guard, that had faced and slain the crazed assassin his brothers could not hide their amazement.
His armour was dented and bloodied, his face a unholy mess of congealed blood and the helmet he had carried was held in one massive hand. Its features ruined and cracked.
The other hand gripped his trusted blade and his bolt pistol was secured to his mag belt.
But it was his eyes and the sheer aura of barely contained anger as he strode to meet them as they offered nods of respect and approval to their now returned comrade and leader.

“The only worth while foe has been slain, and now only the butchery of the cowards that remains aboard this damned ship! Anyone with a working vox link send word to the great wolf! He must know of how deep this betrayal run!”
pausing to wipe away a stream of blood that ran down his face, and trickled down along his beard and into his mouth, its metallic taste made him feel sick and it reminded him that even he was not immune to injury and death.
As he accepted a fresh magazine of rounds for his pistol from the warrior at his side, one of the other wolf guards that still lived broke the sombre silence.
“ Well then, I guess I was never meant to have all those barrels of mead to myself then”
The other space wolves grinned and their rancorous laughter rang down the gore stained hallways, like the snickering of hyenas to anyone that heard it.
Even Gundleif joined in and he felt some of the tension slide of his broad shoulders, but he still was on edge. For he was no fool and he knew that the target that mattered the most still lived.
“ enough!” the pack leader snarled and spat blood as he slammed the magazine into his pistol.

The short but sharp outburst from their normally cool headed leader, made the surviving wolves obey.
“We need to find the bridge and seize control. When that is done we will scuttle the ship and withdraw with our transport. There will be no survivors.”
With grim faces under their skull faced helmets the wolves pushed on, almost running they swept trough the halls and corridors of the ship they had initially come to save.
Passing the remains of crews and slaves alike they became aware of the substantial amount of spent bolter shells and the soot stained walls and blast doors as they pushed towards the bridge.

As the wolves forced open a blast door that had been sealed shut from the other side, they became upon a truly unwelcome sight.
For beyond those flame and bolter scared doors awaited the grim figure of the Cannones Aritusa and her comrades in arms.
Upon seeing the towering forms of the Wolf Guards and their horrid looking leader with weapon in hand and murderous intent plain for all to see on his face, the brides of the emperor lowered their weapons.
While many of their fellow sisters would have aimed their weapons at the space wolves, or perhaps opened fire. They did not, instead they stood aside and allowed the warriors of the Fenrys Hjolda.
The apparent leader lowered her gore stained blade and spoke in a hard flat tone while slightly tilting her head backwards to look Gundleif whom simply glared daggers at this unwanted complication, and possible threat.
“Well meet honoured lord Astartes! May I ask what your bloody task may be aboard this ship of the damned?”
“You may ask you all you want until the end of time lapdog! I have had more than enough of your fell kind these last hours” he said and barred his teeth, clearly having a hard time controlling his urge to gun these lesser forms down and stride over their broken and bloody forms.
“I will grant you harlots something I offer few souls not of Fenris! Get your Ministorium loving arses of this ship. And if not....... well the universe will be lacking a few more zealots” the wolf growled as he spat the last of his own blood from his gore stained mouth
the other wolves also signalized their less then friendly attitudes towards the sisters.
But the battle ravaged and bloodthirsty Cannones did not shrink, when confronted by the towering figures of the sons of Fenris. Instead she barred her own fangs so to say, and levelled her blade at the wolf pack, and spoke with a voice now brimming with cold fury and anger.
“Don’t think yourself high and mighty wolf! I have faced the horrors of the warp, I have slain your traitorous kin and I have seen the horrors unleashed upon the helpless by the wicked ways of the Xeno! And I will rather be dead and damned to shame than to let you and your kin deny me my vengeance upon the fool that has wronged me and my sisters so greatly. “

Gundleif growled and looked the furious wench in the eyes, his inner beast howling for him to rip and tear, to stamp out this disrespectful harlot. But he ignored the howling of the beast.
“ You best be careful when teasing a wolf, it would be a shame if it where to take your throat” he said with a grin on his lips.
And before the furious human could answer him he continued.
“Stay then, take your vengeance or die trying. But I warn you, don’t get in way for or my brothers. THAT will be your bloody demise girl!” he said and pushed passed her, followed by his brothers whom did in a similar way brush the interlopers aside

but neither wolf or bride of the Emperor would get the honour of being the one to slay the now, marked for death lord Inquisitor Romanov.
For the fool had in his own personal pursuit of power, wealth and other worldly things taken to consorting with powers far, far more deadly than the wrath of an Astartes or a Cannones, even as his would be executioners closed in on him he knelt on the floor of his personal quarters, head bowed and lips franticly producing the summons he knew would get the attention of his sinister partner in crime so to speak.
The sharp and unpleasant stink of burning parchment and the sweet smell of burning sacrificial flesh filled the air, and made him almost vomit. But he held his form, and spoke the last few baleful words that needed to be spoken.
In a realm torn asunder by the ever changing nature of the empyrean, something stirred. Its hulking form rose from the bone strewn floor where it had rested after the last of countless victims had been consumed.
Great claws flexed and arms like tree trunks flexed and pale grey skin rippled as the unholy musculature beneath awoke and pumped blood anew, a set of of yellow tinted eyes slowly slid open and took in its surroundings. Seeking the source of the disturbance that had awoken it from its slumber, with the crunching of bone beneath its feet the abhorrent fiend rose up to its full height and let out a deep snarl.
As it stood there and took in the eternal gloom of its lair it became aware of the familiar, almost pulsating sensation that signalled that a new victim was at hand. And that it could once more walk in the realms of the pity full wrecks known as humans, whom squandered their life’s and yet managed to rise to such heights of power and infamy.
Predatory teeth where flashed in a morbid grin and with a low chuckle as if was amused by what was about to happen the daemon allowed its would be summoner to draw it into the realm of the living.
As the gateway that now cast a sinister light, that illuminated his personal quarters Romanov thought himself safe, the beast he had summoned was bound to his will, and a slave to his considerable psychic talent. But mortals have always seeked to stake their claim of mastery of the empyrean and countless now tormented souls being used as playthings by the baleful denizens of that hellish realm should have discouraged any more from seeking such means. But greed and fear are powerful motivators, or sometimes these souls are driven by their own twisted and utterly mad agendas.

Excellent and viseral story - enjoyed that

Good descriptions and characters - nice to see the Sororitas being more than bullet fodder

Many thanks, and yes. I never quite understood why so many stories portray them as fodder

So much testosterone!

And the Wolves were just as bad!

There'll be a few extra heroes at the Emperor's side before this tale's done telling. Looking forward to more bloody mayhem.