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Day 100, 850.M41 - Deliverance Sector

Admiral Enis Ferrae watched nervously as the Thunderhawk Gunship touched down in the ornately decorated VIP hangar of the Emperor-Class Battleship Avenger. Assembled in columns to his left and right stood an honour guard of Stormtroopers, the finest representatives of the companies that made up the ground forces of Task Force Raven. Though a veteran of a hundred campaigns with the Nova Ravens Chapter, Ferrae had never met the Astartes Chapter Master – until now. He fidgeted with his over-starched dress uniform, his stomach tied in knots as he scratched at his scarred hands and flattened his jet black hair.

The craft hissed and the ramp slowly descended, steam venting from the hydraulic rams. The Stormtroopers snapped to attention and Ferrae dropped to one knee, bowing his head to avert his eyes from the powerful Astartes warrior. The hangar was eerily silent as the Chapter Master descended from his transport, raising his head Ferrae could see six pairs of booted feet.

“Lord Stryker…you honour us with your presence…”

The Astartes looked down at him and motioned for the Admiral to stand.

“You may rise Admiral Ferrae.”

As he rose, Ferrae realised how tiny he was in comparison to the Astartes. Although the Space Marines wore only simple black robes bearing their chapter insignia, he still only came up to their mid-chests. He suppressed a whistle as he looked up at the Raven Lord and his retinue, all of them pale skinned with long flowing hair and eyes as black as the deepest void.

“May I introduce my officers, Commodore Jose Migel - Master of this vessel, Wing Captain Paul Braggins – Commander of the Fleet Air Arm and Doctor Sophia Lang – Fleet Medical Advisor…”

Stryker nodded to the Commodore and the Doctor, but stepped forward to regard the young Wing Captain. He extended his hand, and the pilot took it in a warrior’s handshake – fingers clenched around the other’s wrist.

“Well met Captain…it has been a long time since our last encounter…”

The pilot nodded and released the Marine’s arm, he clenched his fists to work the ache out of the muscles in his forearm. Ferrae glared at the other officer, the very idea that a line officer knew an Astartes on a personal level seemed preposterous. Clearing his throat, he stepped forward.

“If you’ll excuse me Lord, we have much to discuss…if you’ll come with me, I’ll show you to the War Room…”

Stryker nodded and followed the Admiral out of the hangar. As the heavy blast doors closed behind him, the Stormtroopers began to file out to return to their units. Some of the gathered men and officers began to mutter and chatter among themselves, the presence of the Raven Lord aboard the Avenger could only mean one thing – the fleet was once again going to war…

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Thanks to enisferrae for letting me use his name for my Admiral. Also, if comments and critique could be posted here at this helpfully coloured link button, I'd like this one to remain for the sole purpose of continuing the story.

Day 178, 850.M41 – Praxis Cluster

The Light Cruiser Griffon shook under the force of multiple torpedo hits, fighters and bombers swarmed over the small vessel as her gunners frantically tried to score a direct hit on what appeared to be the flagship of the enemy fleet. The Bridge was all but destroyed, many of the control systems were burned out and only a handful of cut and bruised officers and crew were left alive to direct the ship’s operations. First Lieutenant Oscar Mayer gripped the armrests of the Captain’s Chair as the battered cruiser shook again.

“Report!”

One of the junior engineers who had been drafted to Bridge duty called across from the station he was using to monitor the ship’s systems. Just a technician, he was doing a job better left to a Tech Adept - the Tech Adept who lay in a crumpled heap at the primary engineering station, charred and mangled beyond repair.

“Void Shields offline, Engines failing…port side Weapons Batteries disabled…Lance Systems offline…”

The ship rocked again as a lance strike blasted into the hull near the midsection. The lights flickered and alarms wailed, before everything went dark and silent. Mayer felt suddenly weightless as the Artificial Gravity systems failed and he floated away from his seat.

“Captain! We’ve lost main power! Auxiliary Sensors are online, but that’s all…”

Mayer swore, he didn’t even have the option to activate the ship’s self-destruct mechanism and prevent it falling into enemy hands. Capture now seemed inevitable for the crew of the Griffon, and Mayer didn’t want to imagine the horrors that he and his remaining crew would face in the prison cells of the ships that now approached the broken Cruiser.

The telltale hiss of venting atmosphere filled the silent Bridge, and Mayer was comforted in the fact that he and his crew would probably be already dead by the time the boarding parties reached the ship…

Aboard the Strike Cruiser Raven’s Claw, Stryker sat in his Command Throne observing the human serfs as they went about their duties. After receiving the distress call from the Griffon, the Space Marine vessel and her escorts had raced ahead of the rest of the Task Force at full speed – time was of the essence, and the Imperial Vessels were just too slow. A younger serf in robes lined with the colours of his tactical advisors approached, barely a shadow in the dim-blue light of the Bridge.

“Communiqué from the Crow My Lord, they have the Griffon on long-range sensors, along with some thirty unidentified vessels…”

Stryker frowned, his fleet consisted of a mere nine vessels – three Strike Cruisers, three Nova-Class Frigates and three Gladius-Class Frigates. His captains would have to rely on their speed and manoeuvrability if they were to survive until the main fleet arrived.

“Tell Engineer Barrus to push the reactor to one-hundred-ten percent…”

“Yes Lord.”

The serf saluted and went back to his station, moments later the ship surged forward as a burst of acceleration from the Plasma Drive pushed the ship faster through the void.

“My Lord, we are entering extreme weapons range. Shall I have our gunnery crews open fire?”

“No…maintain silent running for now…do not disengage stealth fields until we are within optimal firing range…”

The stealth fields were rare pieces of Mechanicus technology that had been recovered on the ten-thousand year sunlight journey from the far reaches of wild space. While not rendering a ship completely invisible to sensors, it masked a ship’s approach sufficiently to surprise even the most experienced captains.

Whoever they are, they will rue the day they attack the Sons of Corax…

“Lord, we are entering optimal firing range!”

Stryker sat forward in his throne, his power armoured gauntlets gripping the armrests.

“Disengage stealth field and fire at will!”

The lights on the Bridge went from their dim blue to a dark red, casting deep shadows over everything. Deck crews that had waited silently as the fleet approached the enemy were now frantically relaying messages between officers, Gunnery Officers barked orders at their crews and blast shutters slid into ready position. The crew had mere seconds to fire before the element of surprise was lost and the enemy ships opened fire.

The ship rocked as heavy cannons along the port and starboard sides launched high-calibre shells at the unidentified ships. The first barrage struck the ship closest to the Griffon amidships, chewing through shields and detonating against the hull. The enemy cruiser was in a bad position to return fire, with only a third of her weapons able to be brought to bear on the oncoming ships. Shells fired in haste by a rattled gun-crew went wide, passing between the Raven’s Claw and the Crow. As Crow broke high to engage another cruiser, Stryker ordered his gunnery crews to split fire between the cruisers closest to his flagship. Weapons Batteries barked as devastating ordnance was blasted at point-black range into the already damaged cruiser. Secondary explosions ripped through the ship as it tore itself apart from the inside.

“My Lord! Enemy Cruiser entering our aft quarter!”

The Raven’s Claw rocked violently as shells impacted on the shields protecting her engines. Red warning lights flashed on a display on his console, the aft shields had been knocked down to a mere ten percent – another volley would punch straight through and severely damage the engines.

“Evasive Manoeuvres! Engines to full!”

The next volley from the cruiser narrowly missed the Strike Cruiser as the helmsman expertly piloted the ship into a corkscrew. Taking opportunistic shots, the Raven’s Claw’s gunnery crews blasted shot after shot at the enemy cruiser whenever it entered their sights. None of the desperate shots hit their target, but it did force the other Captain to flinch and disengage. As the cruiser broke away, Lance strikes from one of the Nova Raven escorts blasted into its port side – raking it from fore to aft, chewing through shields, hull superstructure and whatever was inside the ship. Burning furiously from multiple hull breaches, the Cruiser tumbled away into the Abyss.

Startled by the sudden appearance of the Astartes vessels and the ferociousness of the attack, the hostile cruisers retreated. Stryker ordered that there be no pursuit, the recovery of the Griffon was of higher priority – while the ship floated lifeless, sensors detected human life forms aboard. Those men and women would prove invaluable to deciphering the cryptic message on which the Task Force’s mission was based.

In the distance, the dark shapes of the Imperial Navy vessels powered into view as Thunderhawk Gunships carrying Engineering and Medicae teams launched from the trio of Strike Cruisers and began their approach to the crippled Griffon.

Day 180, 850.M41 – Praxis Cluster

Pain.

All he could feel was pain. It felt like acid ran through his veins and he had been immersed in scalding water at the same time. In the distance he could hear faint noises, indistinguishable over the sound of the blood rushing through his head.

Then the noises grew clearer, and the black veil that had covered his eyes seemed to lift away, leaving a blurred image before him. A man stood over him, silhouetted against a harsh white backdrop. For a moment, he thought he was meeting the Emperor and about to take his place beside the God.

However, he was mistaken.

The figure leaned down, and the grievously wounded Mayer saw the green eye plates gazing down at him. The figure was dressed in white power armour, stained with blood but still clearly bearing the black and blue colours of the Nova Ravens Chapter. The Apothecary shone a light into each of Mayer’s eyes, before turning and walking to the next bed in the row. Mayer tried to sit up, but his body would not respond to his commands.

“Rest easy boy…your spine was broken in three places and has yet to be completely fused together…you should thank the God-Emperor you’re alive at all…”

Mayer twisted his neck to view the speaker, and his breath caught in his throat. Standing in front of him, clad in floor-length robes was the Raven Lord himself - his bone white skin a harsh contrast with the coal black of his hair and robes. As the Astartes approached, Mayer fought to sit up until he felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

“Lie still…you need not rise…”

Mayer nodded slowly and looked up into Stryker’s coal black eyes, in them he saw a great deal of concern, and of intrigue. No doubt the Astartes had made a personal visit for a reason, and that reason was why the Apothecary had been sent to tend to him rather than one of the fleet medics.

“Lieutenant Mayer, your actions on this day will long be remembered by the Chapter…where lesser men would have fled, you stood firm despite the knowledge that your death was certain.”

Mayer wasn’t sure whether the Chapter Master was complimenting him on his bravery, or criticising him for his stupidity. But in his heavily sedated state, he didn’t really care either. The Astartes took a seat next to Mayer’s bed, the seat, designed for use by normal humans, looked as though it was about to buckle under the man’s immense weight, but somehow it remained structurally sound.

“Your mission, it was a success?”

Mayer nodded slowly, as he did he winced in pain, the sensors directly implanted into his nervous system activated valves on one of the IV drips connected to his body, and a steady flow of painkillers flowed into the crippled Lieutenant’s veins. As the pain eased, Mayer sighed before continuing.

“We met with the informant who claimed to know where the Spear was buried my lord…but the rendezvous was interrupted by the unknown fleet…although we obtained the co-ordinates, our navigator was killed and we could not use our Warp Drive to escape…”

Stryker was silent for a moment, then leaned forwards.

“Well done Lieutenant…you have done the Chapter a great service…you are to be commended for your actions…now rest…I will have need of you and your vessel in the coming days…”

Rising, Stryker turned and strode determinedly out of the Medicae, his bodyguards following him. Mayer was left alone in his bed, the Apothercary and his orderlies tending to the few wounded Astartes. It was only then he noticed the unrolled scroll on the table beside his bed, squinting to read it, he saw it involved orders signed by Commander Stryker and Admiral Ferrae. It stated that the Griffon was to be getting a new Captain, as he continued reading, he saw the name of the ship’s new master.

It was his own.

Day 250, 850.M41 – Auraxis Prime

[[Squad One-Three to One-One, we have the target in sight, request further orders.]]

[[One-Three, this is One-One, hold your position. Do not engage hostiles surrounding target, over! All units, maintain radio silence after this transmission!]]

[[Roger that One-One, One-Three out!]]

Despite the erratic comm.-chatter in his earpiece, Scout Captain Corvus Cornix held the Stalker-pattern Bolter steady, the bipod sunk firmly into the ground and his eye nuzzled up against the master-crafted scope. He and his scouts had been in position for days before the Stormtroopers of the affectionately named ‘Little Ravens’ Regiment. The arrival of over one-hundred men, armoured vehicles and aircraft had spooked the unidentified aliens surrounding what was believed to be the final resting place of the Battle Barge Spear of Deliverance and they had taken up defensive positions along the perimeter of what appeared to be a large archaeological dig.

Pathetic xenos! Their misguided faith that their defences will protect them will be their undoing.

Adjusting his aim slightly, Cornix settled the crosshairs over a lithe figure in flowing robes that covered his body and ended in a hood that masked his face in shadow. Around him, another nine scouts; hand picked by him for their accuracy, had picked out their own targets and were waiting for permission to fire. Like their human counterparts, the Astartes snipers were getting restless and silently prayed to the Emperor that the signal would be given, for they knew that somewhere in the growing pit before them was possibly one of the greatest finds the sons of Corax would find.

[[One-Seven to One-One, I have an incoming heat source on bearing one-seven-three…Distance three klicks and closing!]]

[[One-One to One-Seven, I see it! God Emperor! All units! Fall ba…]]

The signal ended in a burst of static as Stormtrooper Squad One-One disappeared in a fireball. Cornix flinched instinctively as an explosion of terrifying force ripped through the heart of the advance strike force. Over the panicked comm..-bursts between the Stormtroopers, Cornix thought he could hear laughter…

From the command cupola of his Salamander, Brigadier Jaydon Grier watched the carnage unfolding before him. Positioned on a hill behind his main force, Grier’s Salamander was safe from the initial attack by the unknown enemy. Over the erratic and panicked comm.-chatter, Grier could hear the sound of heavy footsteps in the distance.

“Someone get me an Auspex contact!”

Inside the Salamander, his driver unhooked his harness and clambered into the cramped engine bay to divert more power from the engine into the vehicle’s boosted Auspex display.

”Try it now sir!”

Grier tapped the keys on his auspex panel, turned dials and flipped flipped switches as he tried to get a better look at the source of the incoming fire. As another Chimera burst into flames, the heavy footfalls grew ever closer. Turning to the south, Grier gasped and his blood ran cold.

The creature was over twenty feet tall and forty long, walking on four legs and bearing menacing red eyes in its head. It roared and reared up on its hind legs as the closest of the ‘Little Ravens’ opened up with small-arms fire. It was then Grier saw that the creature was, in fact, entirely mechanical. Crashing back onto its front legs, the creature’s mouth opened and a beam of blinding blue light lanced out towards the nearest squad of Grier’s men. The Auspex fizzed as the blast sent an electromagnetic pulse surging across the surrounding area, Grier swore loudly – he had nothing currently on the ground that would even begin to damage the beast.

Picking up the microphone for the Salamander’s vox-unit, Grier cleared his throat before opening a channel to all of his forces.

”All units! Mount up!”

Grier knew the mechanical beast would annihilate them all, but he also knew his men would be more than a match for the aliens guarding the dig-site. He hoped that if he made it into the crater, the monster would cease its attack to avoid damaging the priceless relic within. As his driver gunned the engine, the Salamander roared down the slope churning up a thick spray of mud behind it. Lining up on a squad of the now-advancing xenos, Grier’s fingers dug into the trigger paddles for his cupola Heavy Bolter. A three-second burst was all it took to cut the aliens to ribbons, chunks of grey flesh and fountains of brilliant blue blood sprayed out of tattered robes as the high-explosive rounds did their job. A kilometre to the south of him, a Chimera was caught under one of the mechanical creature’s giant feet and crushed flat into the mud.

Without even thinking, Grier’s left hand wandered over to his command panel and tapped in a four-digit code. From a small tube in the very rear of the vehicle, a small capsule was blasted many thousands of feet into the air before exploding and sending an encrypted data transmission to the force’s main staging area nearly fifty kilometres to the east. His duty done, Grier urged his driver onwards in an insane attack as the robed aliens began to return fire with their small-arms. Magnetically propelled cones of metal bounced off the armoured hull, one grazed Grier’s cheek and left the stink of charred flesh as the sheer velocity of the round cauterized the wound.

One round found a weak spot in the driver’s windshield and blasted straight through. The Salamander veered sharply to the left as the driver’s head exploded in a red and grey mist, Grier was thrown free as the command vehicle slid sideways before flipping onto its side. Mud covering his white body armour, Grier struggled to his feet and unclasped his power sword. Thumbing the ignition, Grier smiled in satisfaction as power flowed into the weapon and the dull blade lit up with a murderous red glow.

Wielding the weapon two-handed, Grier charged head-first into the aliens, hacking and slashing with his weapon. Even before he had started, Grier had lost count of the amount of aliens that had fallen to his sword – cleaved in two by the crackling blade. From nowhere came an alien in black robes, standing a good metre taller than Grier and carrying a two-bladed halberd, the alien advanced on Grier and swung at him with a shot that was aimed to cleave his head from his shoulders. Swinging his own blade up to meet the alien’s, Grier only barely avoided certain death. The alien was bigger and stronger than the Stormtrooper General, and easily pushed the officer back onto the defensive. The ensuing fight lasted only a few more moments as Grier lunged forward, his attack parried by the alien’s blade. Attempting to come around for another attack, Grier forgot the halberd’s second blade which swung up beneath the man’s guard and cleaved through his arm effortlessly. Grier screamed in anger and agony as he watched his arm fall limply to the ground, power sword still activated and clutched in rigid fingers. Falling to the ground, Grier stared up at the alien above him and closed his eyes, waiting for the death blow.

It never came.

The smell of burning meat came to his nostrils. At first, Grier thought it was his arm but the smell was different. It wasn’t…human. Opening his eyes, Grier could clearly see the alien ready to strike. Why hadn’t he?

It was then that Grier saw the four shimmering blades protruding from the alien’s chest. With a roar of jet turbines and rockets, the Assault Marine pulled free of the alien’s already stiffening corpse and launched himself into another pack of aliens. As his vision clouded over, Grier could see the outlines of Thunderbolt Fighters and Thunderhawk Gunships soaring above him. Laughing inwardly, the General knew that, although his life may be over, the aliens would pay dearly for their attack.

Please see this post.