Sunday, 2 February 2014

The Sabik Skirmish: Prologue

+++ The following comes from the Imperial Archives of the Librarium of planet designation: Sabik +++

    
     Whirring, snapping claws clenched beaten metal, the tinny smell of burnt steel lingered in the air as Plasma Cutters seared through plates the side of a Baneblade's side. Servitor slaves ensured that the scraps were bolted to the remains of the ruins surrounding them whilst Catachan warriors dug trenches in the surrounding area. The Astartes of the Imperial Fists knew that the guardsmen were more adept at jungle warfare but couldn't help but to admire their will to adapt and the determination to work through the bitter cold to bolster their defenses.
     The city was covered in the glistening white of freshly fallen snow, the air chilled to a deadly degree to all but the armies of the Adeptus Astartes and the hardened Catachan warriors.
     The Master of the Forge paused briefly to stare up to the sky in the hazy light of the day, partly to look for any signs of the impending invasion but also to utter a prayer to the Emperor that the Imperial forces on Sabik would prevail in their absence.
     When the xenos message had arrived on the planet, many Imperial citizens fled for their lives, taking whatever ships they could board at the time to evacuate to the nearest Imperial colony they could find. Few stayed behind, but this was humanity's domain and the Imperial Fists and Catachan were determined to prove that there were those who would defend that territory until their dying breath.

     As if on queue to the Imperial Fist's stirring, a luminescent light burst into being, the computerised tracing a flickering outline of a skeletal creature, roughly the size of an Astartes. Platelets of ghostly metal swayed and chinked softly from behind the morbid creature, it's right hand swollen in size as witchfire danced from it's palm, licking it's metallic limb.
     "Ah," the creature exclaimed with peak interest, it's mouth unstirring as it spoke. "Even as your people burn within the solar system, a few still stand defiant in denying us of our birthright."
     "We stand in the sight of the Emperor and we will stand against the will of xenos scum like you!" The audacity of the creature's statement. The Overlord merely responded with a cock of it's head, though a shiver ran down the Imperial Fist's spine as he got the impression it would have smirked mockingly if it still had lips.
     "Foolish. Poor strategic choice. You should stand beside your race on Sabik and give this place to us. As a gesture of good will, we will even join you in repelling the enemy forces should we succeed in waking our soldiers from their slumber, deep in the tombs below your feet. I will give you this last chance to accept my gracious offer."
     The impertinence of the Overlord cemented the Master's resolve. Without replying to the xenos's insult of an offer he raised the arms of his servo-harness in readiness and bellowed in defiance. "Then come and take us! You have no hope of defeating us, why else offer a desperate plea for our subordination?"
     Silence befell them for a few moments. Suddenly, without provocation the Overlord burst into tinny laughter as the statement registered in his necrodermis skull.
     "Then that is your choice. Now you will know why they call me 'The Summoner'."
     The alien green hologram flickered out as one of the Catachan warriors called out, "over there, in the ruins!"
     Astartes turned to to look in the direction of the ruins for the disturbance. Their metahuman eyes picked up expanding glints of pristine metal as Necron Warriors pulled themselves out of the snowy ground, gauss flayers in tow as crescent moon shaped shadows descended on them from the void.

     The Imperial Fists Master of the Forge turned his sight to the ships above as he embarked onto his Razorback.
     "Emperor Protects."

+++ Report End +++

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