Purge of the Heretic

     The Master of the Blood Guard, Dysartes, stood with his back to the rest of his council, staring into the infinite depths of space. The Fortress Monastery "Citadel of the Unlimited Warrior" the immense flying asteroid base of the Blood Guard Space Marine Chapter, cruised through real space on the journey into the Luxor system. Three weeks had passed since they had emerged from the warp and still there was no sign of the renegades reported by Trader Jugul. By rights, the long range sensors should have picked up some sign of the heretics but all seemed peaceful. He knew something was wrong, knew that even if they had fled there would be a warp signature, or turbulence from their passing.
     "Is there still nothing, Navigator?" He asked.
     "Nothing, sir. There was a large disturbance in the warp two months ago; I can still sense the echoes. But there has been no warp travel to this system since we arrived." The Navigator replied, his two normal eyes closed but with his ghostly third eye open, scanning the warp currents.
     "Captain Isum. Are your scouts ready to deploy once we arrive in drop pod range of the main planet?" Dysartes asked, and turned and strode back to the table that dominated the centre of the room.
     "Aye, sir, they are. They're all eager, too. I've got a squad ready for their power armour and one who seems to be a promising Sniper. If the Lieutenant Commander would be kind enough to transmit the request to the Adeptus Terra, he could be in training within two months."
     "Good. If its Chaos traitors we're facing, I want us all to be ready. The unpure must be cleansed from this system!"
*   *   *

     On board the Strike Cruiser "Child of the Angel", heading into the orbit of the furthest moon of Luxor, tactical squads of the Blood Guard headed for their drop pods ready to deploy on the moon's surface. The lone installation there, a missile silo and system scanning base, needed to be eliminated so that the Fortress Monastery could enter the system safely.
     Chaplain Jessiam had been chosen to lead the assault. His experience in battle was unmatched, as was his valour. With him he fetched a battle-hardened squad of marines, most of which were the survivors of the Battle of Belionas IV, where Jessiam had led his force into the heart of the Ork raiding party. Only seven marines had survived the fierce fighting where Jessiam had defeated the Ork Warlord in hand-to-hand combat. On the surface of a moon, where the fighting was liable to be at close range, he was the only real choice to command the force.
     One squad stood separately from the rest - a Terminator squad. Squad Destructor would not be joining their battle-brothers in the initial landing. Instead they would be a mobile reserve, teleporting in when the highest concentration of enemy was found. Their thick armour meant that they would be able to hold up a force while their brother-marines prepared to assault in support.
     Hopefully, the speed of the landing would shock any traitors so they would not react straight away. The plasma pistols of the two assault squads would give needed punch to the attack, piercing the armour of any Traitor Legionnaires with ease. Their jump packs would enable them to get to a close enough range to use them with speed.
     Jessiam looked over the scans on his screen. He knew he had seen a pattern in the enemies deployment before, but for once his memory was letting him down. With a muttered prayer to Sanguinius and the Emperor, he donned his skull-helmet and spoke the Litany of Sealing. Little pressure changes signalled that it had locked onto his neck-ring. He fingered his rosarius, the sacred symbol of his office and checked the charge on his plasma pistol. As an afterthought, he picked up a handful of photonic-hydrogen flasks, on the off chance that he might get to reload. The last part of his preparations was a last prayer of devotion to Sanguinius, as he picked up his Crozius Arcanum and fastened it to the D-ring on his wrist, so there was no chance of it being knocked to the ground, as it had been in his first battle as a Chaplain.
*   *   *

     "Has Jessiam launched yet?" Dysartes stood in the command chamber of the "Citadel". In the centre was a full tactical hologram of the moon about to come under attack. The sole installation, a missile silo and sensor monitoring base were near the north pole of the moon, was likely to have been captured by the Traitors on their way into the system, as he was attempting to do now. If it had been captured, then the operation Jessiam was leading would make the passage of the monastery safer.
     "Reports indicate five minutes till impact, Commander. They launched five minutes ago and report no counter-fire. The sensor shielding must be working as I can't get them on sensors." The comm-monitor lit up to Dysartes' right - transcripts of all communications from the moon would show up there and be recorded for later analysis. The sensor shielding was an idea that Tech-marine Culexes had implemented on the journey into the system. Hopefully, it would prevent any enemy guns from locking onto the pods as they plummeted to the moon's surface.
     "Tell the Strike Cruiser to maintain its position relative to the surface. But if they don't seem to be gaining access, deploy squad destructor behind the enemy, outside the base."
     "Sir, the pods have impacted."
     "May the Emperor be with them." and Sanguinius be at our sides, he silently added.
*   *   *

     The sides of his pod irised open. Jessiam and his squad stepped out into the dim light of the moon, followed by the forty marines that made up his force. At the lip of the crater that housed the installation, they paused. Jessiam gestured for them to hide just outside the lip, while he alone moved up far enough for his bionically enhanced eyes to see the base clearly. There were two sentries outside the main door stood ready, lasguns loaded with vacuum masks shielding their faces.
     "Culexes, this is Jessiam. What frequency are those two using? Does your auspex have the range?" The call went out across the comm-net.
     "No, sir. Get me halfway down that ridge, though, and I'll be able to tell you."
     "Don't bother. It was just a thought. Sergeant Dracus!"
     "Yes, sir?" A new voice came on channel.
     "Your squad is to stay here. Missile launchers to be loaded with Krak rounds. If we can't reach the door, blow it open. Squads Pian and Erri, jump out left and right, ready to move in. Tactical Squad Frey, halt halfway down the ridge to provide covering fire. Use the rock for cover. Everyone else, follow me. Let's go."
     The two assault squads jumped out to the flanks, their anti-grav jump packs silent and undisturbing. As they landed, they moved into cover behind nearby rock outcrops. At the edge of the ridge, missile launcher-armed Devastator marines loaded their weapons and aimed them at the door. Silently, the rest of the force moved silently down the crater toward the complex. The sentries appeared not to notice the red and white armoured marines as they moved down the crater. Halfway down they paused, as Culexes checked for other life signs.
     "Nothing new, sir"
     "Good. Squad Frey, load your launcher with a frag round. Any fire comes at us, fire at the door. Sergeant Dracus?" A crackle as Dracus cleared his throat.
     "Yes sir?"
     "If we take any fire, fire at the door. Wait for Frey's frag missile, though. You'll be less likely to get a Guardsman in your shot, then."
     "Right, sir."
     "Then move to join Frey. Once you're there, fire at will."
     "Orders understood. Dracus out."
     Before they went down the last half of the crater, Jessiam readied his Crozius Arcanum, unholstered and armed his plasma pistol. All around him, marines loaded bolters or hefted grenades. To the right and left of him he could make out the red gleam as his assault squads loaded and armed. As a final precaution, he activated his rosarius, the blue glow of the energy field becoming almost solid, before fading to a faint light. Looking around, he saw his forces were ready.
     "Let's go."
     He span out from behind the rock, pistol ready to track any new threat. Behind him he felt the rumbling as his marines charged behind him toward the sentries. Still they did not move.
     Then, as they reached a quarter of the distance from the door, he saw they were not reacting. Blades, the tips just showing as a glint, were sticking through the heart of each man. There was enemy in the base! As the shock hit him, so did a curtain of enemy fire. But it was not the mass-reactive rounds he had been expecting; instead a hail of splinter fire hit his shielding. As his energy field flared blue, the bodies of the sentries seemed to explode as the frag round flew past and exploded, the little remaining blood in the bodies freezing instantly. A second missile shot past him, through the icy-blood, to explode against the door. It shattered instantly, the released atmosphere blowing the bodies away and clearing the vision. The third missile shot through and hit a shambling mutated creature that Jessiam recognised for a second - a Grotesque. The missile threw it back into the airlock, exploding and disintegrating the corpse, with the remains of its body splattered on the wall.
     "Child of the Angel, come in. This is Chaplain Jessiam. We are being attacked by Dark Eldar, repeat, Dark Eldar! Teleport squad Destructor to these co-ordinates, Alpha nine seven, Beta four one, height relative to my current one. I need them now! Jessiam out!" He disconnected from the main comm-net, going back to the frequency he shared with his squad.
     "For Sanguinius! For the Emperor! Charge!" His cry echoed onto the comm-net, as he charged the shambling monsters emerging from the airlock. Boltgun fire pattered off their skins, to the surprise of the marines who paused to fire. Plasma pistol fire, from the two hidden assault squads, in contrast, was reaping a grim toll of the foul beasts. Bodies would be hit by the flaming balls, and would be thrown back, as the balls exploded with the effect of a small sun. None that were hit got back up.
     "If that got through," he thought. "Then they'll arrive inside the complex. That should surprise these creatures." Behind him the marine charge was faltering, as marines would be knocked down by a burst of splinter fire and have to force the servomotors in their legs and arms to move the massive weight of their power armour to a standing position again. As it was, Jessiam and his squad were ten or more meters in the lead. Just five meters from the line of the enemy, he fired his plasma pistol, the shot disintegrating the first of the normal warriors emerging from the airlock. As its head disintegrated, he hit the first of the remaining Grotesques, the disruption field on his Crozius Arcanum ready. A thunderous backhand blow smashed into the thing's arm, the power of the disruption field nearly blowing it off. As it reeled from the attack, he smashed down again, and with a spray of blood that instantly froze, smashed its head off. The second shambling, mindless beast appeared to eat a ball of plasma as he fired his plasma pistol at point-blank range. The things head dissolved into the ball of fire.
     "For the Emperor! For Sanguinius! Assault the Heretics! Pian and Erri, jump behind them now!" He yelled as hacked into the mutated things in front of him. As he forced his way toward the airlock, blow after blow crashed into his energy field, causing a blue corona to surround him. Behind him, his retinue hacked into the normal warriors that were emerging. Culexes appeared to be using his servo-arm, a bionic arm on his backpack, to hammer the corrupt aliens with one of their own, while he hacked his way through with his glowing power axe. Already, he stood atop a pile of dead enemy.
     Jessiam was surrounded by a horde of warriors. Suddenly, as if from the heavens, a rain of explosive bolt pistol fire smashed into the frail Eldar. Fully half of those opposing him died in the volley as the assault squads landed in combat, chainswords ready to hack the enemy to pieces. The whirring blades hacked into the Eldar, the assault squads armour preventing them from harm. But it still wasn't enough, there were still more pouring through the wrecked airlock.
     "Dracus! I need frag missiles in the doorway. Leave a five second time gap between each one. Use Squad Frey's launcher as well!"
     "Yes, sir."
     In the eye-plate of the warrior in front of him, Jessiam saw the explosion signalling the launch of a missile. It flashed past him, almost hitting his energy field. Ten meters in front of him it exploded, hurling corpses up into the void, spraying frozen blood back into the airlock, causing those in it to shrink back. A huge hole was torn in the advancing Dark Eldar ranks, but after a couple of seconds more advanced. Unfortunately for the Eldar, the timing of the second missile was perfect. As they tried to get past the bodies, it hit, throwing their corpses back into the front of the next Eldar. The tide of emerging Eldar slackened off, the airlock door open enough for the third missile to fly straight into the building before it exploded. The Terminators had arrived.
*   *   *

     In the command centre, Dysartes watched the battle unfold on the tactical display. His forces were doing well, inflicting huge casualties while suffering few. So far only three marines had become so injured that they had had to retreat back to the Devastator squad. Yet there were still more Eldar.
     Dark Eldar in the base. That had been a surprise, to say the least. He had been expecting the Traitor marines, the forces of Chaos, but instead of the impure warriors, he faced pirates. The Planetary Defence Forces should have been able to deal with the raider, but obviously not.
     "Comm. Any broadcasts from the planet?" He asked the marine at the communication station.
     "There's one signal, sir. It is aimed at the planet behind us."
     "Can you read it?"
     "No sir. But it seems to be similar to the activation signals Eldar use."
     An activation signal. There was something on that planet, he knew it. The signal was be set to only activate one thing, a ship or a missile silo.
     "What distance are we from that planet, at top known Eldar speed?"
     "A day, sir. I can call the Battle Barge "Wings of the Angel" back to assist, if you want, sir."
     "Do so. Fleet Control is to launch all torpedo rams. Shields up when they are clear. All defence weapons to come to full charge, but keep them hidden until we need them. Load all missile bays with high implosive warheads. Signal a gamma alert - all troops to battle stations. Get our plasma batteries loaded. Terminator squads to their boarding torpedoes. All magna-melta cannon to aim to the rear."
     "Well," he thought, "we're ready for anything they throw at us now. If we can capture it, the Mechanicus will owe us a favour." Around him the bustle on the bridge increased as his orders were carried out. This would be where the battle would be. This is where we stand.
*   *   *

     Inside the base a purple light shone for a second, then faded as the teleporters dropped their load. A squad of elites, the Terminator squad Destructor. No Dark Eldar appeared to challenge them, or to notice their appearance in the side room, except for one warrior in exquisite armour who died instantly in a rain of bolter fire, the mass-reactive rounds contorting the body as blood sprayed the wall. The glowing power blade of the Sergeant carved into the door, slicing a hole big enough for even a Terminator to step through in three strokes. With the Sergeant on point, and the two marines with heavy flamers following, they stepped into the corridor, storm bolters at the ready.
     A small display in the corner of his visor flared into life. Now, instead of not knowing where they were, he knew the layout and, more importantly, where the enemy were. One room glowed on his display, the control room of the base. Instead of heading straight for the room, they headed to a set of side corridors that would help them to help their battle brothers by thinning the numbers of the enemy.
     After five minutes of walking and setting up the trap, they were ready. The sergeant had cut holes big enough for the storm bolter barrels and heavy flamer nozzles to fit through, yet not exposing any of his squad to enemy fire. Half the squad was on each side of the corridor, ready to fire on his signal. Knowing that this would save his fellow Marines outside, he almost suicidally stepped into the corridor full of Dark Eldar, his storm bolter spitting explosive death. Five of the pirates fell before they noticed him. His power blade glowing blue, he hacked his way into them.
     "For the Emperor. For Sanguinius. Fire!" he said calmly on to the comm-net on his squad's frequency.
     Almost immediately a storm of explosive death and unquenchable fire spewed from the walls in divine vengeance. Dark Eldar after Dark Eldar fell to the relentless torrent of fire. The chemicals in the flamer's fire spilt on to the floor and spread, burning from the feet upwards. Gristle sizzled, flesh cooked inside the ceramic armour.
     The sergeant had not noticed this. On the outside of his armour a camera recorded all that happened, even as his armour was covered in a rain of a Eldar blood. The torrent of fire slowed as the pileup of bodies prevented the firing. Even this didn't prevent the Terminators, as they tore holes in the walls with their power fists, ripping the wall like paper in their desire to get to grips with the enemy.
     The Eldar were trapped. They couldn't go back up the corridor- the Terminators would gun them down with impunity. If they stayed where they were, they would die. They could only try to force their way through with weight of numbers. This was the only way they could live through this night of fire and blood. Already, over a hundred corpses littered the floor.
     As they pushed their way forward, they had to go by the Terminator Sergeant whose power blade, now red with blood, hacked into them, even as his storm bolter roared, blowing the foul aliens apart. More Dark Eldar were crushed by the glowing fists of the Terminators as they smashed into the rear of the Eldar charge. The Black Rage was upon them, there would be no peace until all were dead.
*   *   *

     Outside the base, the Chaplain smashed his glowing weapon into the chest of another warrior, crushing the ribcage, killing him instantly. He looked at the next warrior in his path - this one was different. A different style of armour. A different way of moving. A style he remembered fighting before, but not in the forces of the pirate Eldar. The armour, though was no match for his Crozius, which was able to penetrate the incredibly thick Terminator armour with ease. However, this warrior it seemed to be equally as skilled as he himself once. While Jessiam had the edge in his rosarius' protecting shield, the warrior's weapon seemed able to block his every attack.
     When, after what seemed only five minutes, he had been unable to defeat the alien by fair means, he decided there was one way to end this - his pistol. He launched a furious assault on the mysterious warrior, forcing his enemy back and the defensive, forcing him into parry every blow or risk annihilation. Using one hand, he yanked his pistol from his holster and fired a single, desperate shot towards enemy, not bothering to aim, knowing that every second wasted was a second further for the "Citadel" to come closer to its destruction.
     The shot caught the warrior in the chest, dropping it to its needs. Jessiam, knowing a dead enemy was safer than a wounded enemy, finished him with a blow to the back of the head. He looked up, to see if there were any more of these combat masters, but saw none. In fact, he didn't see any Dark Eldar. They had all been destroyed by his forces. All they had to do now was getting inside the base, where they would be able to gain control of the command centre and stop the missiles being fired at the "Citadel".
*   *   *

     On board the fortress monastery "Citadel of the Unlimited Warrior," Commander Dysartes stood looking at the display which showed him how far the craft that had left the planet was from their ship. He knew it was only half a day away, but still he looked at the display.
     "How far is the battle barge from us?" He asked the fleet commander.
     "Only about two hours." The marine replied.
     "Good. Get them to charge up all their weapons. I want them ready to help us take out this craft that's following us. Have them come to a position ten kilometres above us."
     "Sir?" The marine on scanners asked. "I think you should have a look at this."
     "What is it?" He asked. On the display, ships continued to appear from nowhere. "There must be a web-way portal on that planet. That's where they're all coming from."
     The enemy fleet emerging from the portal outnumbered and outgunned all the forces he would have when the battle-barge arrived. "Recall all elements of the fleet that are in system. Launch Strike Cruiser "Angel Fire", but don't recall "Child of the Angel" until they have completed their mission."
     This trap would probably destroy them all, but Dysartes wasn't going to go down without a fight. Once the other elements of his fleet that were available headed back in, he wouldn't be in such a bad situation. As it was the enemy had twice the guns he did, and almost forty times the ships. They were in big trouble.

Chapter 2

     Inside the base, Jessiam could see where the Terminators had been - the trail of dead Eldar and wreckage was enough. The Black Rage had taken them, they were out of control. If he did not stop them then everyone would perish, including anyone who had been caught by the cruel Eldar. The Terminators were easy to follow, there was a trail of dead bodies and blood. Some of the casualties were horrific. One had had its head ripped off its body whilst still living, and its spine had been pulled out as well, severed at the pelvis. As they had no enemies to fight, they were able to get closer to the rogue Terminators.
     Further and further into the base they went, weapons ready in case the Terminators had missed any Eldar. It seemed that the Terminators had decided that the whole base was unworthy, as they had ripped sheets of metal as they passed. He looked at the display inside his helmet to see how far-off they were from the command centre. They should be there within half an hour.
     Soon they could hear the sounds of battle, the screams of the Eldar has they were ripped apart. Within minutes they had caught up with the Terminators. The Terminators were hammering on the Eldar with their power fists, except for the sergeant. When he listened to the comm-net, Jessiam could hear him trying to calm them down. At least one of them was not under the influence, he thought. "Sergeant!" he yelled. "Are they listening to you?"
     "No sir. They have been like this since we ambushed the main corridor of the Eldar."
     "Sanguinius aid me," the Chaplain thought. "If we don't stop them soon, they'll destroy everyone."
     "Sergeant, stand back." The sergeant did as he was ordered, as the Chaplain was his superior. "I'm going to try something that I saw on Belionas. One of the chaplains there managed to convince a squad which had fallen to the Black Rage to stop attacking everyone and calm down. Maybe I can do that here."
     "I hope so, sir. They have not let any live. They've been in each side room, each corridor, killing everyone. I can't control them any more." the sergeant replied. It was true. Along each corridor that they had passed, mutilated bodies lay everywhere. The bodies of Eldar.
     "Terminators, listen to me! Sanguinius is alive! He speaks to me, through me! He tells me that just because his body was shattered by the arch-traitor Horus, it does not mean his soul is dead. While he wants you to avenge him, he knows that this is not the way. Calm down. The Primarch instructs you!" He cried out to the Terminators, knowing that this is the only way that they would be saved. If he could persuade them that their founder, Sanguinius, was speaking to them through him, then maybe, just maybe, they would calm down.
     It seemed to be working. Six of the afflicted marines were slowing down, their relentless fury having spent itself. Two, however, seemed to be unaffected by his words and carried on slaughtering the Eldar relentlessly. The rest of the squad, now shaken from their trance-like state, moved back to join Jessiam in the corridor. They were now outside the command centre where the two Terminators battled against the Eldar force. What he needed was a diversion, something to distract the heretical Eldar while he led his forces in a single charge. As he reloaded his pistol, the idea came to him - the flasks of photonic-hydrogen, the ammunition for his plasma pistol. If Culexes tampered with the seal a little, then when he threw it into the room, well over the heads of the Terminators, it would explode. That explosion would probably make them shy away for a couple of seconds, but that was all the time he needed.
     "Culexes, get over here." The Tech-marine approached him. "Can you make this flask of hydrogen into a grenade?"
     "I should be able to. It is only a minor alteration. I'll add a detonator to it, so you can throw it then detonate it when we move."
     "Do it. Everyone, come here. When I throw that flask into the room, I want us all to fire a quick round of shots, then charge. Missile launchers, stay here and fire a couple of frag rounds each in, if we need them." Culexes handed him the modified flask. "Everyone ready? Let's go."
     He moved round to the door, trying to pick a spot where the explosion wasn't likely to damage the Terminators instead of the Eldar. There it was; just in front of what looked like some sort of portal. Jessiam didn't have time to worry about that now, he just threw the grenade as close to there as he could. The metal hit the deck and slid, rattling along towards the portal. It nearly reached it, but stopped a couple of metres away. He moved back to the rest of the marines, stood around a bend in the corridor. Culexes handed him the detonator, and without looking Jessiam activated it. It seemed like nothing was happening, but when he glanced down at the detonator he saw numbers rapidly counting down. They hit zero a mere second after he had activated it.
     The blast shook the base, and a ball of plasma almost reached them. It had been more powerful than they had realised. The plasma slowly crept back into the chamber, stains showing for a moment as it encountered the walls or other metals. The marines moved back around to the doorway and peered into a raging inferno. They could not make out much, even with the enhanced vision their helmets gave them. They could see the two armoured suits of the Terminators who had been blown back to the wall so hard it had had huge dents driven into it. The armour of the Eldar had not given them similar protection. The only remains were a few half-melted scraps of armour or crushed weapons.
     "Are they alive?" Jessiam asked Culexes. The tech-marine pulled his auspex scanner out of its sheath on his belt and switched it on with a muttered prayer to the Machine God. Its screen flickered to life, flared brightly for a second before settling down. Two green blips could be made out on the screen; power armour had a sensor beacon that auspex scanners could pick up. A few taps on the keypad and he could access their armours' bioscans.
     "They are alive, but both are severely stunned - unconscious I think. They won't come around for an hour."
     "That's good. Can you stop their weapons from functioning for a while? Just for a few hours after they come around. They've succumbed to the Black Rage, and if they can use their weapons then they may attack us."
     "No problem. Just a little programming. Give me five minutes and they'll be safe for five hours after they come around. The alpha brain-waves will activate the interruption. Until then, I want a look at that portal, providing the plasma hasn't damaged it too much."
*   *   *

     On the surface of Luxor III, a group of individuals in black, hooded robes met in a disused building on the outskirts of the capital. None of them would know the others, except for the dream that had fetched them all together, a dream of power and glory, a dream that had at first seemed so easy. Now, days from accomplishing their goal, they had run into difficulties.
     "Where is Brother Shac?" The leader intoned. "He should have the final piece of the artefact?"
     They had been told in a dream to find, collect and fetch pieces of an artefact of unimaginable power. The same being, a winged giant with a long scrawny neck and blue skin seemed to change whenever anyone looked at it. If an Inquisitor had known of their dream, they would have been "purged", as communication with a daemon, especially a Lord Of Change, was forbidden. So it was kept a secret. They had no idea what the artefact did, and they did no care. People who asked questions were dealt with, removed like any minor obstacle. The possession would have been called "Indirect possession", where the daemon used only a small fraction of its power to influence the individuals.
     They did not know what the artefact did or what it would use. Maybe if they had then they wouldn't have tried to fetch it together. The Inquisition had scattered the pieces all over the planet's surface, but it hadn't been enough. When the last piece was placed in its position, then the horror would begin. They did not know this, of course, they merely knew they would be rewarded by their masters for their help.
     Another hooded robe stepped forward. "The Inquisition knows something. They have sent an Inquisitor Lord to look into us. We must move fast!"
     "Brother Shac has the last piece. We cannot do anything until he gets here, and you know that!"
     The sound of running footsteps approached, getting louder and louder, building into a crescendo as the missing brother hurtled round the corner of the building. "The Inquisitors are behind me." He shouted breathlessly. "They say the artefact summons a d...."
     The brotherhood heard a single shot fire. The running brother's body contorted. He managed a few more steps by sheer momentum before his legs collapsed, a hole in his back gushing blood. The piece of the artefact skittered along the ground towards them. One brother darted forward and scooped it up, hugging it to his chest. He turned back and ran to the rest of the brotherhood. Reverentially, he placed it in the gap in the artefact.
     Three men in Terminator armour came around the corner in time to see the piece click into place. One raised the Nemesis force weapon in his hand and took aim with the built-in stormbolter, then lowered it, as a column of blackness rose from the centre of the completed artefact. The blackness span round and around, like a cyclone. As soon as it had appeared, it vanished, leaving behind the creature of their dreams. A Lord of Change, one of Tzeentch's children. It hovered, its wings fanning a foul stench towards the Terminators. Their insignia showed them to be Grey Knights, the military arm of the Inquisition. The leader of the three, a marine with the Inquisitional insignia on his right shoulder pad, started to chant under his breath, readying his mind to use the unholy power of the warp to banish it back into the warp. He was not fast enough, for even as he finished the mantra that bound the energy he would use, the daemon raised one arm and summoned a score of lesser demons, that bounded and gibbered their way towards him. The storm-bolters on the hafts of other two marines' Nemesis force weapons spat explosive death towards the daemons, but for each of the pink monstrosities they destroyed, two blue smaller ones arose to take its place. Only when the blue ones were destroyed was the daemon truly dead.
     The psychic bolt of power flew from the fingers of the Inquisitor, aimed straight at the Lord of Change. It merely laughed, raising a hand to deflect it into the wall behind it. The storm-bolter in his hand fired, sending bolter rounds impregnated with negative psychic dust towards the daemon. The daemon could not deflect these with its hand. Instead it jumped into the air, its wings carrying it high into the air, avoiding the speeding rounds with ease. It landed in front of the Inquisitor, its staff ready to deal out death.
     More daemons were emerging from the artefact, spitting blue and yellow flames at the Terminators. The flames merely ignited on the armour, failing to cause any damage. Their force weapons carved into the daemons, banishing them back into the warp. Even as they destroyed them, more were emerging from the artefact. They were emerging faster than the Terminators were banishing them. They knew they would be overwhelmed, even as they fought for the planet. The Inquisitor knew of only one power that might be able to save them - the Holocaust, a power that caused inferno-like heat to emerge from the ground and would burn the daemons like the fires of hell.
     The Inquisitor started to chant again. He tried to ignore the combat around him, but could not. The sounds and flashes of multicoloured flame were too hard to ignore. He raised the haft of his nemesis sword and charged towards the nearest daemon, knowing he was battling for his life. The unholy power of the warp flowed through it, enhancing the force of his strikes to a huge potential. He hacked his way into the pink horrors, slicing into them, splitting them and destroying the blue horrors in a flurry of strikes.
     There was a scream to his right, as one of the Grey Knights succumbed to the attacks of the daemons. The Inquisitor prayed for his soul, knowing that the attacks hadn't yet finished. The daemons would attack his soul, even as it passed into the peace of the Emperor. He hoped the marine would be strong enough not to succumb to the attacks on his soul, even though he had died. The spawn of Chaos attacked him again and again, with unrelenting fury, but each time he banished them or split them. His psycannon never stopped firing, its modified bolt shells tearing into the ranks of the daemons, spilling their life-blood onto the tiled floor.
     The brotherhood had long since run off, their minds blasted into madness by the presence of the daemons. The Inquisitor transmitted a signal out to the Inquisitorial Office, telling them what had happened, including the sensor descriptions of each of the cultists. He backed away from the daemons, trying again to summon the power of the Holocaust. This time he was able to, the unholy power fetching forth flames from the ground, burning the daemons, boiling the spilt ichor. The flames caressed the horrors, splitting them with muffled pops. The daemons that spewed forth flames were unaffected, as fire was in their body anyway. The Lord of Change just stood and laughed at his attempt to cleanse the planet of him and his spawn. He laughed as the flames burnt the other Grey Knight, laughed as the Inquisitor eventually succumbed to the fire himself.
     The flames died down, and the daemons marched on the unsuspecting innocent citizens of Luxor, murder in their minds.
*   *   *

     "How long before they're in weapon range?" Dysartes asked the marine at the tactical station.
     "Five minutes before they are in missile range, ten minutes after that they will be in range of our energy weapons, sir"
     "Target our first spread of missiles on the smaller craft, the second spread on the nearest heavy cruiser-class ships. Tell the battle barge to fire a salvo, then move into energy weapon range to engage. Keep our energy weapons hidden, but extend the targeters when we are within range. Maybe the capabilities of our ship will surprise them."
     "Sir, the Strike Cruiser "Child of the Angel" is calling us. They've captured the missile silo, but it appears to have a web-way portal inside. They don't know where it goes. Two of his Terminators have succumbed to the Red Thirst."
     "Has he got the time or the equipment to work out where the portal goes?"
     "No sir. Culexes can't tell with the equipment he has with him at the moment. There is one way, though...."
     "He could put a beacon on the Terminators and send them through. Their armour should protect them from the Eldar weapons, at least for long enough to triangulate their position. It might work, but be sure that Jessiam knows that he is to get the Terminators back alive. The apothecarion has developed something that could cure them." The comm-marine bent to the task of transmitting the orders.
     "Sir!" The marine at the tactical display called for his attention again. "We've come within missile range."
     "Then fire as soon as you have a lock. I want the quicker enemy neutralised in the first salvo. They're the ones that will be able to exploit any shield failures. They are the ones with the light armour. They are the ones who will die."
*   *   *

     On the surface of the asteroid, hidden launch tubes opened, their cover sliding seamlessly back into the rock as the batteries of anti-ship missile launchers emerged, rotating to face the oncoming fleet. Targeters flared into life, the red glows like eyes looking out into space. Inside the asteroid, computers calculated the movements of the enemy fleet and fed the information into the rudimentary computers in the missiles. Within a minute, the missiles were locked onto their respective targets.
     "Fire" The command went onto the comm-net. Almost instantly, hundreds of missiles shot from their launchers, crossing the void in seconds. The first few flared on the shields of the enemy warships, weakening their shields. More slammed through gaps in the energy shielding, impacting on the hulls of their targets. Chunks of the superstructure drifted away, leaving crippled hulks drifting in space. Fires guttered away inside some, eating away what little atmosphere remained.
     Some of the missiles missed their targets, hurtling through space. Some of them curved towards the nearest ship, while others just detonated in space. Others were hit by small asteroids, or micro meteorites, blowing them up prematurely. The damage of the salvo had been done. At least fifteen of the smaller enemy ships were destroyed or crippled, taking them out of the battle, but this was only a drop in an ocean of the enemy.
     Even though the salvo had only destroyed fifteen of the enemy, the hulks were drifting, forcing the formation of the enemy to evade them to avoid collision. Above the asteroid base, the immense battleship "Wings of the Angel" started to move. Immense engines flared into life, moving the ship towards the enemy fleet. A second salvo of missiles shot past it, aimed at the larger ships in the enemy fleet. Explosions rippled on the protective energy shields of the enemy, crumbling them, bending them inwards and finally collapsing them. More explosions rippled on the surface of some of the targets, biting away chunks of the hull.
     The battle barge had reached the edge of the range of its energy weapons. It slowed down, channelling the energy into the immense weapons batteries, charging them up, readying them to rain destruction on to its enemies. Even as its energy weapons locked onto their targets, it fired a third salvo of missiles, trying to finish off one of the heavy cruisers that had been damaged in the second salvo of missiles. The missiles streaked towards the ship, explosive warheads configured to cripple rather than destroy. As soon as the missiles had cleared the battle barge, its immense shields activated. The field, designed to protect the battle barge from both energy and projective weaponry, flared into life, making it look like the ship had divine protection.
     Huge barrels aimed at distant targets. For a moment a soft glow built up around some of them, then beams of impossibly bright light shot out, connecting the battle barge to one of the enemy cruisers. The shields flared for a brief moment, then gave up. The beam caressed the superstructure, carving through decks, severing energy connections. The light winked out, leaving behind a burning, crippled wreck.
     Balls of burning plasma slammed into the shields of other ships. The detonations, like a sun going nova, destroyed the shields, while others vaporised parts of the ships, leaving behind a melted wreck and a rain of metal droplets. The strangest weapon left no visible trail, Where it brushed the shields of the enemy, they glowed blue. Where they struck the enemy, the metal melted and flowed, and the moisture in the air inside vaporised explosively, tearing the ship apart from within. The molten metal, as soon as it was out of the path of the beam, solidified, exploding into shards that travelled into the shields of other ships, sending sparks flying off them.
     Shot after shot slammed out from the warships of the Blood Guard, destroying or crippling ship after enemy ship. It wasn't enough, though. Even as the immense weapons batteries of the Strike Cruiser, the Battle Barge and the two Destroyers hammered at the enemy, the Dark Eldar were coming into the range of their own weapons. Flashes of dark light crossed the void, striking the shields of the Blood Guard ships. Each shot drained some energy, but the capacitors of the four ships were easily able to cope with the drain that the weapons caused. It was time for the asteroid base to show the extent of its capabilities.
*   *   *

     While the battle barge possessed a large number of energy weapons, the asteroid base possessed ten times that amount, hidden in craters and cliff banks all over the asteroid. Only when it was necessary for the base to defend itself did they emerge from the shelter that protected them from the debris of space. Shields of rock slid apart slowly, revealing an amount of weaponry that could destroy a planet within an hour. Battery upon battery of lances, of plasma accelerators, of planetary defence lasers, emerged from their cover, ready to deal death to those who would defy their lord. More racks of missiles emerged, targeting on the distant ships that were still emerging from the portal. They locked into position, aimed towards the distant portal. Second passed, as the computers on board the asteroid flared into life once more, computing the targeting information given to them by the holocams slung under the missile racks.
     Eventually, they fired. Instead of the hundreds that the asteroid had fired in its earlier salvos, this time it fired nearly ten thousand. They streaked off towards the distant fleet that was emerging from the web-way portal to support their brethren. In less than an hour they would cross the distance of space that a ship would take a day to cross. While the battle was raging close to, it made sense to lessen the enemies reserves while he had time.
     The engines of the asteroid base flickered into life, pushing it towards the field of battle. Its energy weapons, fully charged, targeted themselves on the nearest ships. The computers recorded flight paths and strategies that the enemy used for later reference. The weapons locked as the asteroid reached range. The weapons turned towards their targets. In the bellies of the plasma accelerators, photonic hydrogen, a rare isotope, was compressed and wrapped in a glowing magnetic shield. The balls of fire travelled up to the barrels of the gun, through pipes taller than a man. The barrels rotated slightly, tracking their targets, anticipated their movements. A minute after loading, they fired the first shots.
     A thousand balls of plasma shot from the barrels of their launchers, flaring across the void toward their targets. The plasma slammed home, detonating on shields or hull, uncaringly. The blasts knocked their targets off course, causing two to collide in space, piling up into a mass of metal. The racks of lances discharged into the ships that the plasma hadn't destroyed, causing more explosions and beams of light to appear briefly across the void. The defence lasers, being so close ranged, stayed silent, waiting for the enemy to come up to them.
     Wreckage spiralled out of the target area, revealing the extent of the damage the salvo had done. Twenty more medium or small size ships were out of the fight, and ten of the larger ships had been damaged by the attack. A second round of lance fire shot out from the base, drilling through decks or slicing into engines. One large ship, pierced by twelve lance shots, ripped itself apart as the engines imploded. Another disappeared entirely, its fusion drive vapourising the entire ship as it exploded. The asteroid ship was reaping a grim toll, it weapons batteries hammering away at anything that threatened other elements of the fleet.
     A squadron of the smaller Dark Eldar ships broke off from the fleet attacking the Blood Guard craft, and curved outwards to set up for an attack run. The defence lasers kicked into life as they approached. Hundreds of flashes of laser light shot out, hemming them in, restricting their manoeuvrability, keeping them in a predictable pattern. A battery of lances turned from piercing the hull of a large Dark Eldar ship, leaving it to drift. Through the laser fire, and the returning fire of the Dark Eldar, the gunners could make out the shapes of the small Dark Eldar ships. The battery needed to only fire once. The lance fire shot out in five groups of four shots, each aimed at a different ship.
     As the lance fire was about to hit, the defence lasers went from a restricting fire pattern to an all-out attacking pattern, hammering the shields. The lance fire hit, piercing the weakened shields with ease. It hit the rear of the Eldar ships, drilling through their hulls. The engines imploded, the strange fuel pulling the section of the ships into incredibly small sections. The shattered remains of the ships hurtled on through space carried on by their own inertia.
*   *   *

     The two Terminators stepped towards the portal, glints of purple and black light showing on their white knee pads. The beacons attached to the back of their armour signalled where in the solar system they were. They stepped forwards, their minds no longer registering what their eyes saw. Instead, their minds were filled with visions of an ancient battle that was almost ten thousand years ago. While in the chamber in the missile silo no shots were being fired, they saw a conflict of vast proportions, where Space Marine fought Space Marine, and the Imperium itself rocked to its very foundations.
     The portal flashed and swirled as they approached, twisting itself through all three dimensions. The Terminators ignored this, their minds embroiled in the ancient conflict. The Chaplain could see them moving slightly, not quite attacking, but almost. The restraints that the Tech-marine had programmed into their weapons were working. The weapons would not activate until they had passed through the portal.
     Three steps, two steps, they approached the portal, closing on their goal. All the two Terminators knew was that they were closing on their enemy. Jessiam watched them, trying to see whether they would break the restraints on the armour or not.
     "Child of the Angel, ready sensors. Set them to the frequency of 30,000 hertz. Signal me when you pick them up." He ordered over the comm-net.
     As they reached the portal, tendrils of dark energy stretched from it, wrapping the armoured frames in dark light. The energy snatched them in. They were instantly transported across the void, what was left of their minds being taken taken back to the time when Sanguinius held the Eternal Gate on his own, preventing the forces of Chaos from harming his brethren as they moved into the Imperial Palace. They could see his divine radience protecting him from the attacks of the traitors.
     Back on the base, Jessiam turned to the Tech-marine who was stood next to him. "Where are they?" he asked.
     "I can't tell yet. They haven't re-entered realspace yet."
     "As soon as they do, tell me. Child of the Angel, can you give me a tactical feed. I want to know how the battle is progressing."
     "Yes, sir"
     Almost instantly, the visor of his helmet changed to show the battle being fought thousands of miles away. He saw missiles and torpedoes spraying in both directions, batteries of plasma and laser fire smashing into the Dark Eldar fleet. The smaller, faster, more lightly armoured Eldar ships darted in to attack the asteroid base, lances of dark energy striking the shields of the base, and a rain of laser fire arcing to follow the flight paths of the ships. The ship fled ahead of the laser fire, only to end up in the middle of the next spray of missiles from the base, its hull contorted by the explosions that tore it apart.
     Jessiam could see the shattered hulks that littered space, some of which had fires that consumed what little atmosphere remained. From the portal on Luxor IV's surface, he saw more and more ships arise to try and destroy the Imperial fleet. One of the Strike Cruisers was limping out of the flight, what guns it still had firing to pick off the harrying Eldar ships.
     "Jessiam!" the call came through from the tech-marine.
     "Have you located them yet?"
     "Yes. They're in an installation by that ship portal. Sir, if we can get them back, I could send two of the nuclear warheads through the portal. The detonation should collapse it."
     "Can you get control their armour from here?"
     "I think so. Transmitting a signal to their beacons. Getting through to the neural interface, overriding it. I've almost got it. Opening fire with storm bolters, deactivating power fists. I'm moving them back in standard formation. They're five metres from the portal."
     "I don't need a constant commentary, just tell me when they reach the portal. Child of the Angel, cut the feed."
     His visor darkened for a second before clearing. Once more he could see the blood stained walls, the melted and shattered remains of the aliens that had attempted to oppose them. A glow caught his eye.
     The portal was glowing again, seeming as if something was coming through. Jessiam glanced towards the tech-marine, who shook his head. It wasn't the two Terminators that were coming through. At that signal, the marines readied their weapons, concentrating their aims on the dark glowing door into another world. They slowly moved to what little cover remained, sheltering behind half-melted cabinets or deactivated computers. The marines with missile launchers moved back into the cover of the doorway, loading their weapons with armour-piercing rounds.
     The portal continued to churn, but humanoid shapes could be made out in it now. There were more than two. The marines moved their weapons up to their shoulders, bracing themselves for the huge kick of the boltguns. Jessiam crouched at one end of a cabinet, his plasma pistol trained on the portal, ready to rain fiery death upon the enemy, whoever they were. The marines watched as the figures grew larger and more threatening, but their sensors could not recognise what they were.
     As minutes passed, and the figures didn't emerge from the portal, Jessiam scuttled over to the tech-marine. The tech-marine could tell him nothing - as far as his sensors could tell, there was nothing there. Instead, he grabbed a satchel charge from the tech-marine's belt, and rolled it over to the portal, ready to detonate when whatever it was emerged. The marines in the chamber started to move back towards the doorway, moving in a leapfrog style, with one marine stopping to cover the other as he moved. Pairs of marines exited the chamber, heading into the antechamber beyond. Once there, they reassembled into their squads, ready to move back in when whatever it was emerged. Jessiam and the tech-marine were the last to emerge.
     The door hissed shut as Jessiam pressed the control. It didn't quite fit - the plasma diversion had slagged the edge of the door and it wouldn't fit into the frame. The detonator for the satchel charge rested in Jessiam's hand, ready to activate the charge as soon as anything that wasn't the Terminators came through the portal.
     "We've got lifesigns in the chamber." Culexes spoke to Jessiam. "They're not the Terminators, but they don't register the same way as any of the Dark Eldar we've fought here. I'd recommend detonating the charge."
     "Do we know if they're hostiles or not?" Jessiam asked.
     "I can't tell. Half the time they don't appeat to be there. It could be a Mandrake, but I'm not sure. The blast will stop the camouflage field they generate - it's hard to do that when you're dead."
     "True. Just tell me one thing - is this detonator another of those time delay ones or not? I need to time everything so whatever it is dies."
     "No, these aren't time delayed. On that plasma, I thought it would be safer for us if it were. You can blow it any time you want to."
     "Right." Jessiam looked down at the detonator in his hand. With his other hand he motioned some of the boltgun armed marines to move level with him, avoiding the space where the blast could get through. When everyone was in position, he pressed the red button. The explosion was less than last time, but seemed to have no less of an effect. A body was thrown against the door hard enough to dent the tempered steel. The blast died away, and Jessiam hit the door control again. The door opened grudgingly, as if it didn't want to let Jessiam see what was in the room. Five or six corpses littered the edges of the room, collapsed in heaps where the detonation had thrown them. One stirred, and a hail of bolter fire hit it, putting it out of its misery.
     The portal still churned and heaved, getting ready to deposit whatever it was transporting in front of Jessiam for his viewing. The marines moved into their combat positions, weapons trained once more on the glowing doorway. They were battle weary, but would still be a match for anything that came through that doorway. They could not tell what sort of monstrosities would appear, but they knew they had to defeat them.
     They could start to make out two shapes in the swirling light, two hunched shapes. The marines snapped back to full readiness, instantly awake and targeting the portal. The shapes approached, getting closer and closer. Details could not be made out, but the shapes appeared to be fighting with an invisible enemy. The marines tensed, missile launchers came up to the shoulders, loaded with fragmentary rounds. As the shapes stepped out of the portal, the marines fired.
*   *   *

     The Lord Psyker, Tempus Fugit, chief of the psychic warriors of the Blood Guard, stirred from the trance he had been in for the past day. He had been aware, distantly, of the battle raging in the void around the ship. He had watched the force led by Jessiam take the base on the moon. He had seen the flare in the warp that heralded the summoning of the daemons. He knew what the real threat was.
     He scanned the warp, looking for a psychic presence among the Eldar fleet that were attacking them. He could find no one who could defeat him, no-one who would be able to stop his powers from succeeding. He knew his powers may save the base and his entire fleet, but in doing so would destroy untold Eldar. The power would depend on his control; if he tried to bend time too much he could cause a rift in space allowing the creatures of the warp to spill into the material universe.
     He donned his power armour, moving to ease the stiff muscles in his back. He had been the Lord Psyker now for a thousand years, almost as long as Dante had been Chapter Master of the Blood Angels. He was a Chrono-path, a psyker with the rare ability to mould time to the way he wanted it. He readied his weapons - a Nemesis Force Sword and a lighning claw, so that he could fight at the close ranges he was expecting to. His psychic magnifier clicked into place on his head, the locks holding it down solidly. The clear visor slid down, forming an air tight seal.
     As a last, final, preparation, he picked up clips of his silenced boltgun rounds and emptied them into the haft of the built-in stormbolter in his Nemesis weapon. Now fully prepared, he said a silent prayer to Sanguinius and quit his chambers, heading up to the bridge.
*   *   *

     In the command centre of the "Citadel", Dysartes struggled to stay on his feet as an explosion rocked the room. A missile had penetrated the shield and detonated, causing a new crater to form on the surface of the moon. The anti-missile lasers were overheating, shutting down. More and more missiles were getting through.
     "Concentrate fire on single ships. Cripple them if possible, destroy them otherwise." He ordered. The laser fire honed itself into cones of fire, hitting ships with shot after shot until they were no longer a threat. The missile fire was becoming sporadic, as there were so many hulks littering the void that many missiles were impacting on the hulks instead of their targets.
     Dysartes saw a single small ship fly past one of the holocams, laser fire streaking behind it. Suddenly, without warning, it was no longer a ship, but a ship shaped cloud of dust. He was sure that none of his shots had hit it, when a voice came out of the shadows:
     "The force of ages will aid and can destroy."
     Tempus Fugit stepped out from the shadows, the blade of his sword glowing with a black radiance, the power of the warp flowing through it. He pointed the blade again, and another small ship drifted apart in a cloud of dust. He sat in his seat on the command podium. Lines snaked into sockets on his armour, injecting chemicals that super-charged his mind, increasing the range of his power.
     With a grunt, he summoned the reserves of his power to activate another of his innate abilities - Blur Time. He wrapped the ship in a net of time, making its outline blur with its past and future, confusing the eyes of the Eldar gunners. Shots started to spark around it, heading for where the ship had been. The gunners in the asteroid started to fire again, their shots proving yet again to be more deadly and accurate than those of the Dark Eldar.
     "What effect will this psychic power have on launching ships, Tempus?"
     "None. They will not appear visible for a couple of seconds after they emerge, then they will be out of my sphere of influence." Tempus Fugit replied, his voice deeper than it had been before, his face tight with the lines of effort as he continued to hold the illusion.
     "Right. Signal the crews of our escorts and the four Dominator-class cruisers that are currently docked. I want them launched as soon as possible. They should help us push back the aliens. Signal Jessiam. Why hasn't he got their space-ship portal closed yet?"
     "The crews say they will be launched within half a standard hour. Jessiam appears to be having difficulties with the portal. Some creatures are about to emerge from the portal at his end. He expects only minimal resistance, though."
     "Good. As soon as the portal is neutralised, I want him preparing to reboard his Strike Cruiser. Understood?"
     "Yes, sir."
     The battle has only just begun, Dysartes thought to himself. It's only just begun and I'm powerless to stop it. This is a strange feeling, this inability to do anything other than send brave men possibly to their deaths. But I must be strong. If they reach the planet then Sanguinius shall fight through me, and all the alien scum in the galaxy shall not prevent me from cleansing this system of their menace.
End.

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