Chaos
The lord’s rhino raced across the farm fields leaving a path of pulped ruin in its wake. The machine growled, whistled, howled, and moaned as it went, the various tubes and devices on the hull harnessing the wind to create an insane kaleidoscope of sound.
Inside, Lord Epicurus’ bodyguard sat wired into their seats. A dull stare filled their eyes. Each moment the machine moved, it pumped their systems full of narcotics, stimulants, and depressants. A normal man would have been killed outright with just a drop, but these were not ordinary men.
Lord Epicurus himself was lashed into a similar device, but the cocktail of drugs did nothing for him. He had long since built up immunity. A gift from his mistress? He would be outraged, if he could muster such strong emotions. Instead, he was filled with an echoing numbness.
“The Iron Warriors have left the confines of their mines.” The oracle burbled, a long trail of saliva reaching for the floor.
The body that housed it hung from the ceiling of the rhino, gently swaying with the motions of the machine. The hosts’ eyes had liquefied, and all of its hair had fallen out. The things ribs had collapsed and cracked out of the skin. Lord Epicurus knew that it was time to get the demon a new host body, this one being almost past its usefulness.
Lord Epicurus responded, “Good, it is time that they leave their hole and make themselves useful to us. Is the sorcerer among them?”
One of the Oracles teeth tumbled to the floor and bounced away into the dark reaches of the cabin, “He is.”
Lord Epicurus nodded. He wondered what insanity would allow a marine to replace his wonderful feeling flesh with a mechanical abomination. Why would you reject the precious, delectable weakness of flesh? Why would someone close themselves off to such delights? It was madness.
“Has their digging uncovered anything yet?”
“No.” The Oracle rasped.
“Keep me informed. In the meantime, find me the Bane of the Ancients.”
“My powers are weak when I am in such a state. Perhaps with a new, more vigorous host, I will better be able to serve.”
The chaos lord knew that these were simple lies. He had been around demons far to long to fall for such a ploy. “Find me the Bane of the Ancients, and then you will have a new host.” The Oracle wasn’t the only one who could play at deception.
Dark Eldar
Though the rumor of Eldar mercenaries working for the Tau persists, no Eldar have been spotted on Centarius thus far.
Eldar
Farseer Daltharon spoke and his words were a metal gauntlet enshrouded in a velvet glove; “We agreed with your initial assessment Leanarra. It was a dire vision indeed.”
The old man poured her a cup of tea with his customary grace.
He continued, “However, we have since followed the skeins of fate ourselves. They are a tangled lot, and as difficult to read as always.” Leanarra saw where Daltharon’s words were heading.
“Tell me Leanarra, did you take the time to follow other skeins of fate?”
She brought the tea to her lips and drank. The aroma was sweet and the flavor as delicate as any she had tasted. Her mind tried to identify the flavors, but they blended together seamlessly, “I saw two possibilities, and both ended in destruction.”
“Yes. I as well. It was very easy to get caught up in such visions,” Farseer Daltharon looked her deep in the eyes. “Then I tracked back, and found that the myriad paths of fate had many branches, and many places in which we could act to alter it.”
Leanarra nodded. She could see where the Farseer was going. It had been plain to her as soon as he summoned her.
The older man continued, “As a journeyed the twisting corridors further, I discovered that the cost of interceding at Centarius could be far more terrible than we would have imagined.”
“And what of the powerful entity who observed me?”
Farseer Daltharon took a long sip of his own tea, “That is a curiosity.”
Imperial
Inquisitor Lord Thoth checked his readings one more time. They looked accurate, and in line with what Techpriest Mikhalias had reported. It appeared that the distress signal was definitely of Imperial origins. As he drew closer to the source of the signal, it became easier to interpret.
He turned to where the Techpriest was kneeling low over a communications array. His mechandrite’s snaked out of his robe and interfaced directly with the machine.
Thoth’s spoke, “Have you identified the source?”
Mikhalias did not even both to look up, “No my lord. My efforts to boost the reception of this machine have failed. The spirit seems disturbed to be so near to xeno technology.”
Thoth shook his head. Time was running out. The Black Ship was due to arrive soon. On it would be a vast number of untrained and unskilled psykers. If they were released into the general population here, his chances of finding the one her searched for would be nearly impossible without drawing unnecessary attention from his enemies.
He hoped that this signal would be the key to finding the one he was after, but the elusiveness of the signal was beginning to wear on his nerves. Perhaps there was a better method?
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Lady Jasper threw down her quill in disgust. She was tired of assurances of support. She needed Guardsmen, not words. It abhorred her to think of the alternative, but if she could not get the aid she needed through proper channels, then she would seek out other means to protect the Black Ship.
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Inquisitor Zanatos looked through the scope at the distant monoliths with his one good eye. The structures had a design configuration in conjunction with those he had seen on other long dead worlds. He feared the worst.
If his suspicions were correct, there were far worse things here than Tau and psykers. Far older, and deadly. Normally, he welcomed the chance to test his blade against the foes of the Imperium, but battling the Necron menace gave him no satisfaction. For each one he downed, the Inquistor had learned that it was only a temporary victory.
He spat on the ground. The damned things didn’t even know when to stay dead.
Without warning, one of the monoliths was engulfed in a green ball that slowly expanded outward. The Inquisitor’s eye widened and he threw himself to the ground. Moments later the concussive force of the explosion blasted over him. He dug his fingers into the ground, and tried to chant a hymn to the Emperor. The blast tore the wind from his lungs.
His command chimera was picked up and tossed like a rag doll. It crashed to the ground, and its own explosion was drowned out by the thunderous blast from the monoliths. Zanatos’ stormtrooper bodyguards were scatter like so much chaff.
With deafening suddenness the blast passed. The inquistor rose to his knees, his ears ringing and his vision blurring. Around him, those that could stumbled to their feet. As his vision cleared, he was greeted by the sight of a vast crater blasted into the barren rock. Where once a row of monoliths stood, nothing now remained.
“By the Emperor?” The inquisitor hissed.
Orks
++++Intercepted Transmission++++
'oi! Gitz! Listen up!
We just got dun' krumpn' da 'oomie base dat I was telling you gitz about last tiem. Dey didn't no nuffin' bout dat 'oomie Genewal dat we is gonna krump. Dey was mainly weedy 'oomie gauwd gitz.
But 'eres da fing, dey was wif dem fish 'eads too. I don't know y' dey was dere. I fought dat da Fish 'Eads didn't like dem 'oomies neiver. Doest matta' cause dey is all weedy gitz dat we krumpt. Annuver fing. Dem 'oomies was carrin' dem lil' black bwooks. If 'yoo gitz wasn't too stooopid you would 'member dese. Dey was da 'uns dat we found on Tiorl Seben, da 'uns dat said dat da 'oomie Empawa' is a weedy git. Well got sum' dem books now, so we don't know wat do doo wif dem. On Tiorl Seben we got dem all an' fia'd dem out of da Zuper Gunz at da 'oomie base. But 'we 'asn't got dem Zuper Gunz.
OOHH! I know, we kan sneek dem into da 'oomie gauwd bases at nite. Because dey is skarred of dem dey will just run 'way! Dey is such weedy gitz.
So 'eres da plawn: continoo lookin' fo dat Genewal guy an' move towards dat 'oomie city. If you find any of dem black books, try to skare 'oomies wif dem.
Dakkaslag Ouwt!
+++End Transmission++++
Tau
The old man gently stroked his grey beard and moustache. Carefully, he observed the holo-tank and watched the small symbols move about. The old warrior was glad for such wonders as Holo-maps, Mantas, and scout drones. It was a far cry from his days on horseback, when a commander’s reach was only as far as he could see and shout.
The Lord Protector’s eyes moved up to the Castellan Mine works. This was his ancestral lands, the home of his estates, and the burial ground of his ancestors. He was saddened to see it slowly being engulfed with red. Red was the mark of the enemy.
He had worked hard to create a workable fighting force to help the Tau defend Centarius. Even now, he worked diligently to co-ordinate the remaining PDF troops, the new irregular units, and guerrillas to work in co-operation and harmony with the Tau forces. To see his own house guard swept away from Castellan so easily angered him at first, but now simply saddened him.
“The situation in your homelands troubles you?” A uniformed Tau asked him. Commander Bright Eyes looked through the holo-map to study the Duke. His alien mind assessing his Guel’vesa commander.
“Of course Commander.” The old man responded, wrinkling his brow. “Would you not feel the same?”
Commander Bright Eyes nodded and looked away briefly, “Of course. I feared it would jeopardize your judgment.”
Duke Hammermill stiffened, “I have learned the lessons of the Tau well. We must do what is for the Greater Good.”
The Duke’s eyes moved to Ionia and Aetna. Sometimes, a commander had to put aside his own personal feelings for the good of the mission. The evacuation of his fellow citizens from the New Haven refugee camp to safety at the fortified Salvation base was proceeding smoothly. There PDF forces and Tau Cadres had co-operated successfully. Now, if only they could turn the momentum from this localized success into a broader front.
Right now, the Centarius Peace Management Forces had the advantage. They had the numbers and the initiative. However, all of it could change in a heartbeat. If any of the invaders could get an influx of troops, it would change the course of the war. Victory was still too elusive to contemplate.
Tyranids
Inquisitor Zanatos leaned back in the chair of his command Chimera. His mind raced as he tried to put together the possible implications, and what impact it would have on his mission here on Centarius.
The latest Pict captures from Captain Treg confirmed that it was a Tyranid splinter fleet waiting at the edge of the Centarius system. Its lack of activity was curious. It was as if the entire thing made it into the system, and then went dormant. It was the type of activity that the Inquisitor had never seen from such a xeno before.
Part of him was glad that such a fearsome foe was staying away. Another xeno threat was the last thing his forces needed at the moment. On the other hand, an invasion of Tyranids would provide complications for the Tau forces here, and possibly free up Imperial resources. His mind weighed which would be the better alternative.
He keyed the master vox, “Connect me with Admiral Rudolpho.”