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Blood Spectres: Eight Years Later.


Eight years have past since that night atop Mount. Tafala. Eight years of implantation and further molding in the Chapters ways. Til the young boys were no more, and near fully fledged Astartes ready to take the black, now stood in their place.
The inter years had been tough to endure, but they had borne it well. Each becoming hardened to the coldness of war and it's violent ways, and had become what their brethren had wanted them to be. Killers without remorse, and studious ones at that. Ones who would plunge their hands into the filth and lick their fingers clean with a wink and a smile. These young adults were now beyond the normal thread of man, for they were now it's protectors.

Buffeted by the thermal pockets, Sargent Siglo, awaited the air drop to be over. Rocking with another heated pocket as he gazed over the seven man Scout Squad resting at ease in their bulked out carapace, their harnesses creaking to hold them to the deck. He gave a nod to Beren, whose eyes he met. Struggling to remember the boy he once knew as the dough soft Novis. His face and body now bulked out and gigantic in proportion. With it's traces of tell-tale augmented scars on his throat and skull, signaling the implantations that lay within. He scanned past to the others of the Squad. Either sat in silence of talking of past missions or fondly remembered kills, while Hewen toyed with his knife. The mood relaxed, though run through with an under-current of alertness. Each keyed up for the mission that had brought them to this world. All where honed like a whetted blade for the action to come. And he felt pride swell in this chest for the warriors around him he had watched grow into manhood under his tutelage.

'Brother-Sargent Siglo. are you receiving?'

'Five by five, Commander.'

'Uploading new data. Be advised, heavy flak and ground fire in grid two-niner-tango. Divert to secondary landing zone and proceed on mission.'

'Copy all, Commander. Out.' And with that he was unlashed his harness and was walking to the cockpit hatch that slid open with a button press and he stepped through as it began to close.
'Brother, switch to secondary LZ. Primary is hot.' He said to the Marine at the controls.

'Aye, Sargent. Any word on extra support?'

'None. The mission will proceed as it stands.'

'... As you say, Brother-Sargent.' The unease at the news evident in his voice as Siglo returned aft to rejoin his squad to inform them of the hitch in plan.

'Any extra support, Lord?' Mirroring the pilots thought and unease a few minutes later.

'No changes have been conveyed.' The Scouts sharing a look, which was not lost on Siglo.
'Steady, Brothers. It's all in the plan. Commander Agrippa would have given us the extra support if he deemed we needed it. Apparently, we do not. We will proceed to our target and complete the mission.' Ending anymore questions or debate as he ordered them to ready themselves for the drops end, and the Scouts pulled on their helms before retrieving their weapons.

Three minutes later the compartments red lighting blinked out as the rear ramp eased open to admit the reddish brown light of the brown dwarfs stars weak glow. The twinkling lights of a vast settlement, cloaking several hills, stretching out into the distance at the end of the short day formed by three to four story buildings with flat roofs. Statacco lighting playing between them in the streets from running battles between the populous and Imperial Guard and the tracers fizzing off into the coming night, adding their own lighting to the dusky view. They stepped out into hell. Staffing runs from gunships and tracers buzzing overhead, filling the settlements skies as they moved to the lip of a surrounding wall and added their bolters and the more exotic weaponry to the maelstrom around them. Further off, more Scout Squads dropping onto different roofs as two drop pods smashed into the nearby ground, disgorging two squads of battle platted legionaries. Joining the three squads of scouts firepower now occupying the high ground that was pushing the enemy they had landed amongst back.
Each home their eyes fell upon seemingly individualistic, instead of the uniformed stamped design of an Imperial world. The streets in-between equally, if not more, colourful. With it's multi-coloured paved bricks that shone in the weak light or dazzled from nearby explosions. The world they had come to was rife with the warps tainting corruption.
Tearing his gaze from an oddly shaped building nearby that emitted an inner swirling silvery glow, Siglo ordered his squad into further action.

'Kuda! Find us an exit.'

'Sir! Beren, Fena. With me.' The three of the peeling off from the rest as they ran to the steps leading down into the dwelling, and charged down. Gunfire flaring briefly before he came on over the battle net.
'Exit secure, sir. A family unit tried to bar our path, but we put them down easily enough. Light resistance encountered, no casualties.'

'We will join you presently. Good work. Kuda.' He switched over to squad to squad.
'Brother, Gandras. Report.'

'Nearby streets are clear. Moderate resistance, one casualty.' Came the reply, though laced with static and the odd bolter.

'Acknowledged. Squads Riga and Kat'thai will continue to provide top cover. All other squads are to proceed to rally point Alpha. You have the lead, brother.' Receiving to clicks over the vox as he strode over to Kuda propped halfway through a smashed out stylized window onto the front street. 'Report.'

'Sir, several dozen enemies are in the adjacent buildings. Main concentration is within the two o'clock with the bolted on cladding. Lord, they're well dug in, with good arcs of fire. We'll need more than we've got with us to dig them out.'

'Our orders still stand, no unnecessary contact. Primary target is the objective. Find us a back door or make one, Scout.'

'Sir!' Up from his firing position in an instant and, seeing no rear exit, barreled through the brick wall with a shouldered charge and disappeared into the brick dust.

'We have an exit. Move out! Fena, Santo. Rearguard. Hewen. Relieve Kuda on point and head south-west. Squad Kat'thai has our flank.'

The squad headed out into the night. Hewen on point a few metres up ahead as the rest of the squad followed on staggered behind. They moved through the settlement and between the multi-hued buildings, past alien artwork that stung at the eyes. Adding their weight to scattered skirmishes between them and their goal as Gandra's two squads cleared the bulk of the enemies blocking their passage. And after several hours of street fighting. Siglo spotted their objective in the mid-distance. A squat set building of three floors, daubed in garish paint and further artwork lit by open sided braziers casting their scented haze from where he wound find his target. Somewhere deep down under it's foundations in the dark where it practiced it's rituals, he would find the leader of this fane and leader of this world.

Let me know if people want a next chapter and I'll write one. Feedback is appreciated.

I liked it, a steady pace and belivebal dialouge between the involved individuals. Also do I smell heretics?

Indeed. But the bigger question is which side are they on.
Thanks for the feedback.

Oh my! I better get my purging outfit then
Also the pleasure was all mine.... HERETIC

Just so long as you tone down the studs and purple. Don't want to be mistaken for a Night Lord, do we.
In this case, I feel my heretic side come out for this one. Your bang on the money. Shh, don't tell the ][ where I am.

Bah! When I come rocking in my purging gear all the heretics come to the yard!
A bit late for that my heretical peon

Chapter: 2


By the fill of the nearby streets, it was obvious their passage to the fane was going to go far from undetected. Scores of locals patrolled a layered perimeter several streets out, armed with crude black powder weaponry or glowing spears held in their clawed hands, while scores more gathered on the periphery of the square to guard against sudden rushes. All moving in silent coordination, undetectable to imperial scans. As not even a blip in static was heard from the other side. But still it was clear something pulled at these enthralled puppets. With their demeanour, drugged seemingly from the smoke, though they did not jerk or stumble. With blank faces they moved in concert, directed by whatever will working their clouded minds to the attack like drones. For their cunning, far seeing, creature eyes. Had already detected Ganda's bold advance. His heavier weapons coughed to life from the main road to engage with the first of the tainted beasts patrols, while Riga's forced un-concealment on the flank had also drawn down their ire. Hundreds from the square and scores of the patrols reacted to the encroaching threat and rushed into the night to destroy the encroaching Blood Spectre squads. Though more than a third held their ground around the smoke hazed place of worship, with it's dancing shadows. Thinning out until an unbroken screen once again protected their holiest of hollies. Then Kathai came over the battle net.

'In position.'

Emerge and strike, then withdraw to strike again at your discretion. Your under Gandra's command now. Hold their attention, brother.'

'Aye, Arrvan. The Emperor go with you.'

'I shall need him, But, he goes with me always.' He cut the link.

On the flank, Kathai struck. Two Meltas and two more rocket launcher teams split the night with heated plasma shrieks and contrailing swirls to vaporize tainted flesh or blow raggedy chunks that splattered new patterns across the outer Fane. Cowing those nearest in the square into silence apart from the mewling calls of pain. Before like a switch being turned on, they charged after the retreating squad on the rooftops. Bounding over the living and lifeless alike or even upon all fours to avenge the sacrilege done to their hallowed ground and they followed Kathai and his squad into the night. Goaded on by more shots and half seen glimpses that drew them on. Until the last of the living had emptied from the square.
In the quiet that followed amongst the dotted corpses. He lead his squad out across the cobbles to draw up short before the metal sheathed gate depicting a multi-horned bestial grinning figure.
Siglo defiantly stared down the graven image as he stepped forth and ascended the stone steps. Only halting before the doors to address the squad at his back.

'Close combat pattern, theata. Blades out. Look for a passage or stairway down. Stop at nothing until we reach the last of their chambers and halls. There is where we shall this blasphemous ritual chapel of theirs, and crush their tainted worship. We are legion, but above all, we are righteous. Gather your strength and fortify your soul. You shall need it.' Pushing open the doors with a clang that split the image, and strode under the archway into the buildings waiting night.

Inside, all was darkness. Except for the few wavering pools of illumination from lit torches spaced along the inner enterance. And the squad advanced cautiously as they allowed their eyes to adjust to the details of the oblong enterance, with its branching chamber doors stretching into the twilight. Seeing more garish colours and lewd paintings streaking over or taking up the ceiling and walls. But the four horned figure on the plinth at the far end of the hall drew their chief attention.
Sitting crouched over a pit of glowing embers, jewelled eyes seemingly watching them come closer. An outlandish figure, alike to the one carved on the main door, stood over a pit of cooling embers. Though they could still see in the smouldering light it's mosaic form shinning back the weak glow from beneath, with an inner glow of it's own. Which the young squad stepped closer towards to make sense of it's multi-limbed form.
Siglo snapped them from their attention with a curt command to focus and spread out, and ignore the figure. And reluctantly they obeyed. Each picking a doorway or corner to search, and it was Santo who came upon the flight of rough hewn steps descending downward. Where the squad gathered around it circular opening into the floor. Tucked behind the beastial figure and stylised with runes round it's circumference that swirled, inter linked, picked out in gold.
The meaning was lost on those at it's threshold. But they did not care. For their eyes had followed the crudely jewelled stairway down to the next level. Where an equally roughened doorway had been staked with the hung heads of human sacrifice, taken from those of the original expedition.
Though many years had past since their death and of word reaching the High Lords chamber. Still their empty sockets stared back at them accusingly. Challenging them to answer for why they were too late, and why they had to die in a ritual that had required them to scream until the utmost end. But the squad had no answers for them. Only vengeance to barter away the shame for allowing such evil to grow and fester for so long, unchallenged. And they descended the steps, one by one. Until the last had entered the warren of passages that led to chambers beneath them, and an occult world waiting for them in the dark.