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Captain Corvious of the Ultramarines paces back and forth in the deserted hangar. A look of grave concern encompasses his face; a mass of wrinkled, scared flesh. His eyes, a color of sullen blue stare angrily out into the night sky. Corvious is one of the oldest captains in the chapter. A veteran of countless wars, and bloody campaigns Corvious has lost many brothers under his command. Most of their deaths still eat away at his tired, aging mind. For few were truly the “glorious” deaths that every Astartes so wishes to embody.
“Where in the throne could they be?” He mutters to himself.
They, being his First Sergeant and a handful of other Marines he had sent to the Mountain Outpost K-14 for a status report. The outpost had gone dark like many others since the sudden Tyranid invasion of the Ag-world. He had watched 1st Sergeant Dissius and his squad embark to the outpost in the early hours of dawn. Their orders being to fly over the Outpost, assess the situation, and at all costs avoid engaging a force greater than their own. That was nearly 20 hours ago. Then, like a torch shining in a sea of black the gunship flies in from the horizon; its thrusters sending streaks of fire into the night sky as it gains speed. Corvious feels a small smile grow on his face, but he quickly suppresses the feeling of happiness, and replaces it with a stern sense authority. The Thunderhawks engines whine as it enters the desolate hangar. The pilot lands the craft, and lowers its doors. Corvious hastily walks up to the ship, his voice a loud lion-like roar.
“I said assess the damn situation! Not fight the whole bloody horde!”
Sergeant Dissius steps off the ramp, a grim look sits plastered upon his face. Corvious reels back at the sight of this. The two Marines have fought side by side for nearly 200 years. Corvious can tell something is not right.
“Who have we lost?” Corvious says, a pained tone within his old frog-like voice.
“No one sir, all of the Brothers are fine.” Dissius gestures with his chainsword, as the rest of the Ultramarines step out of the Thunderhawk.
“Then what is it Dissius?” Corvious can tell, something bothers his brothers mind.
“When we arrived at the outpost, it was just as you had predicated Captain. The fortress was under attack, and the guardsmen were nearly overrun. We landed to reinforce the position. The Tyranid force was not very massive in number, most likely a scouting group probing our northern sector, but there was someone there at the outpost, someone we did not expect.”
“Who?” Replied Corvious in a curious tone.
“Him.” Dissius points back into the depths of the Thunderhawk, as a Shadowy massive figure exits.
Corviouses eyes grow wide in wonder. It’s a Space Marine, not of the Ultramarines, nor of any other chapter he would expect to see. For only the company under his command, as well as a company of Imperial Fists were engaged in the fighting on this planet, no this Marine was different. He stood taller than most Astartes Corvious had scene. He moved like a shadow as he stepped into the hangar. Shrouded over his head,sat a hood covered with black scripture. “Dark Angel” was Corviouses first thought, but this Marines armor was not the Dark green of the Angels, no, his armor was a flash of silver ceramite, and only one chapter wore such armor.
“I’m curious.” Corvious approaches the mysterious Astarte. “Why would a lone paladin of the Grey Knights suddenly appear on a planet where there is no Chaos to be found?”
“No Chaos?” The Grey Knights voice is sharp. “Not now Captain Corvious, but long ago yes..”
It is now that the Astarte steps into the light and Corvious sees the Paladin face to face. He is young, quite young for a Paladin, young for even a battle brother. His face is a ghostly tone of white, his hair a shock of blonde lighting, his eyes like the seafoam green of the oceans on Macragge. He wears no Heralds, no insignias. His relic artificer armor shines brightly even in the lowest light. A tunic drapes over the armor, the same scriptures scribbled throughout it much like his hood. A massive two-handed blade rests on his back. Its length would nearly rival that of the great sword wielded by the Lion, but there is something sinister about his weapon. It is forged of some black metal Corvious can’t identify, and at the top of the hilt; a hallow, dark face screams out into the world.
“My name is Borion of the Ordo Malleus. I have come to this planet for there is something I must find before it is destroyed.”
Corvious smirks. “And how are you so sure this planet is doomed?”
Suddenly a strange sensation ripples through Corviouses body, and Borions voice whispers in his head.
-For I have seen it-
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