Intrigues of the Soul Hunters – Chapter 11: Scouts, Messengers, and Envoys

Chapter Summary: Plans change, diplomacy ends in battle, and forces mobilize for war.

Author: Khodexus

Rated T: For Graphic concepts, suggestive dialogue, and brief violence. No cussing, no adult situations.

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights for the worlds or characters in Warhammer 40,000. Those rights are owned by Games Workshop. I do own the rights to my original characters depicted here, in as far as they differ from the worlds created by Games Workshop.

Warning! This fic is MUCH darker and more graphic than my Harry Potter fic. Not suitable for children.

Lethis was feeling quite please with herself as she entered the audience hall of the Soul Hunter's fortress. This was one of her favorite rooms, for it was where Khirareq met with her Kabal as a whole, and where she displayed the evidence and trophies of her greatest triumphs. Lethis knew someday she'd have a hall just like this, maybe even grander.

She danced across the empty space towards Khirareq's throne, spinning in a circle once to gaze fondly at the gallery, and the great doors which led out of the hall, where individual petitioners would enter through to speak with their mistress. Unlike the throne room of the Midnight Reapers' fortress, this room had only three exits. The first were the wide doors, reinforced with sturdy alloys and a force field against invaders. There was a second exit directly opposite, partially hidden behind columns, and the location of the third exit was a closely guarded secret, but Lethis suspected it was near the throne, which sat in the exact center of the spacious chamber.

The dais the throne rested on was rather clever, in Lethis opinion, for it could be perfectly level with the floor, or it could extend upwards on hidden motors like a telescope, enough to form steps on the outer edges, or even to raise the throne itself high into the air where it could not be reached from the ground. At present it was flush with the ground, and Lethis approached it, running her fingers along the intricate carvings on the arms and back of the throne. In her explorations she'd once discovered a hidden trigger on the throne itself which would activate a dangerous trap to spray anyone near the edge of the dais with toxic chemicals. Since then she'd searched for more such devices, and had discovered another which opened a secret compartment perfectly sized to conceal one of Khirareq's polearms within easy reach.

She hummed to herself as she set about tracing the designs of the chair, padded in all the right places, but still severe and harsh in appearance. She stopped suddenly, growing still and quiet as voices drifted to her, along with measured footfalls which she could mistake for no one other than the owner of the chamber.

She made a dash for the gallery, and hid behind a column bare moments before the second door opened, admitting Khirareq and her companions into the room. It wasn't against the rules for Lethis to be here, but she wasn't sure she liked the idea of Khirareq knowing just how much she enjoyed her things when she was not using them.

The War Queen was accompanied by her standard retinue of incubi, as well as three kabal warriors, wearing the armor of reaver riders. Lethis didn't recognize any of them, though she thought the girl closest to the archon was one of Vallus' new sybarites. She had a very… gentle face, and Lethis had to wonder how she'd made it to any rank at all with such an amiable visage.

"…I have prepared a full report, of course, but I thought you'd want to hear of this as soon as I returned." The platinum haired girl was saying her youthful brow wrinkled ever so slightly in frustration or irritation above her striking red eyes.

"You were correct in your assumption, Sybarite Mercelle." Khirareq responded. "I am not an expert on the tactics and strategies of the hive fleets, but this most definitely smells off to me. I am going to summon my dracon court, as well as Archon Vallus and his court. I will ask you to explain to them what you have just shared with me."

Lethis sighed, knowing she'd have to reveal herself now, since she was to receive a summons anyways. She stepped out from behind the column, and winced when Khirareq frowned the moment she spotted her.

"Trying your hand at eavesdropping, Death's Shadow?" she asked after a moment.

"It was not intentional, milady, I was already in the room when I heard you approaching, I'd planned to simply slip away while your attention was on other things, but since I overheard you say you'd be summoning your court, there'd be little point in me leaving now."

"It's dangerous to skulk about; one might mistake you for an assassin, or worse and that might not end well for you." She admonished.

"I understand." Lethis said simply, moving to stand a little ways away, and regard her mistress.

Khirareq decided to move on, and gestured to one of her incubi, who departed to send messengers to summon her court. Lethis wondered why she didn't simply convene a war council, to summon the entire court must mean either something very unexpected and important had come up, or perhaps that Khirareq was upset enough to want a more public display. She could feed off the emotions of the crowd, and stirring up their excitement or bloodlust would help temper her own frustrations or anger.

It didn't take long; no one wanted to keep Khirareq waiting, and soon the hall was filling up. It was a little surprising, in fact, just how many people were filing into the room, taking seats, even as Khirareq's generals and lieutenants took their places closer to their Queen. Lethis had not realized until she saw them all assembled, just how large their Kabal had become. There was more than could fit in the room, but then some had to stay on post to guard against invasion, while others were still in the field.

"Most of you know of our recent interest in the Glacionus system." Khirareq began once the crowd had settled and quieted. "You may not know the details, and you may not have fought in individual battles, some of you may have only heard about this campaign recently since joining our prestigious Kabal. Something has come to my attention that I wish for you now to know, for its ramifications are dire."

She gestured Vallus forward, and her second moved to stand closer, but not too close, bowing as befit his station as her fellow Archon. She spoke briefly with him, and he glanced at the scout who'd reported to Khirareq in the first place. Lethis' guess had apparently been correct, Mercelle belonged to Vallus, and Khirareq was doing him the courtesy of explaining her use of his servant.

Then Mercelle stepped forwards, all eyes on her. There was a brief murmur through the assembled kindred, Lethis thought they found her appearance funny, but Mercelle ignored them, no doubt used to this sort of attention.

"My Lady Khirareq assigned me to a routine surveillance of an imperial outpost we might be targeting on Glacionus Three. I was about to return with my report, after the outpost had been resupplied, when it came under attack by a third party. I observed the Tyranids begin to assault the outpost, and returned to confirm it had been utterly destroyed, and then I came here. Khirareq was most displeased when I told her what I'd seen, for this struck her as very uncharacteristic behavior on the part of the Tyranids."

Khirareq motioned for the girl to resume her place, and stood to address her Kabal, though more specifically her dracons. "I do not know for certain what prompted the Tyranids to attack in this way. It is possible this is normal behavior, but I do not think so. I am no seer, but I sense there is more to this than the Great Devourer normally accounts for, so I've called this court that we might speculate and share any insight each of us may have, and form a larger picture of the situation. I will allow Archon Vallus to officiate, but if things should get out of hand I will step in and punish any offenders. Be that as it may, if you withhold information that could prove useful, I will punish you far more severely. Vallus." She gestured to her Archon, and he bowed again before she sat back down on her throne.

Vallus was efficient, and ruthless, calling on people who believed they had information, and cutting them off as soon as they were finished. Lethis watched, admiring the way he worked, building an image of the foe they faced. The consensus seemed to agree with Khirareq, that the small force of Tyranids in the system should not have so openly begun attacking targets without the support of a hive fleet, but beyond that most could offer no more than idle speculation as to the cause.

Finally one girl, a very young warrior who already had earned a scar across her cheek, was called on, and very nervously said, "There's a chaos cult, in the Glacionus system, if they have powerful sorcerers, they may have found a way to influence the Tyranid hive communications."

"How do you know this?" Khirareq asked; certain that if her scouts had obtained such information she would have heard about it.

"When Archon Vallus attacked the Lance Glorificus I overheard some soldiers discussing it. I believe that's why the Inquisition has a presence in the Glacionus system to begin with."

"Truth, speaks the young." There was a collective gasp throughout the room, this was the first time anyone had spoken out of turn. The crowd parted a bit to reveal Calleidas whose holo suit had disguised him as one of Khirareq's Kabal, but now that he was revealed it shifted back to its customary visage as troupe master of their resident harlequins. He stood and began walking forward towards Khirareq, "Knowing of Truth have we; a gift from He Who Laughs, yet there is more. Speculation determines perhaps these are the steps we saw naught when our bargain first concluded."

"The Laughing God eternally fights against the Lords of Chaos, doesn't he?" Khirareq mused. "I'm inclined to believe this might just be the case. Still, my knowledge of Tyranids is incomplete, and Threchul has not yet completed his studies of the synapse creature, but I know where I might seek out more detailed information."

"As says the Warqueen, Calleidas would enjoy her company, if she would enjoy ours." Khirareq smiled, and nodded, then turned back towards the girl who'd spoken only to shrink back behind the taller warriors around her when the room's attention had been drawn to the danser.

"Warrior, come forwards again. Vallus will continue, but I wish to begin preparations, he will fill me in before I depart." Lethis watched her leave with her Incubi, Mercelle, Calleidas, and the young girl, who appeared no older than thirty standard years at the most, she had not yet reached her full height, or developed her full figure, yet she walked with a grace and confidence some of the True Kin never achieved, she was talented, a prodigy perhaps, or maybe she'd just been forced to learn quickly to survive.

Lethis turned her attention back to the proceedings, much as her curiosity ate at her, she didn't want to miss what was happening here either. It did occur to her, to wonder why all the really unusual subordinates seemed to belong to Vallus.

"What is your name, warrior?" Khirareq asked the young girl who accompanied her away from the great hall.

"Liaratali." She answered back promptly, "I'm blooded, and trueborn."

"I know, I make a habit of memorizing small details about all of my warriors, you look a little different than I remember, however, and that's why I asked." The girl nodded, and Khirareq considered her for a moment as they walked, she seemed in awe of her, and yet wary as well; smart, and talented, for one so young. Khirareq herself was not particularly tall, but she felt her height next to the teen.

"Why did you ask me to come along?" The young warrior asked after the silence had stretched a moment.

"What else, if anything, can you tell me about the chaos cult in the Glacionus system?" Khirareq got straight to the point.

"Not much, I just remember them talking about it, saying something about being frustrated they couldn't find the thing."

"Interesting, the Inquisition is supposed to be very good at rooting out such problems, which means the cult must be either very small, very secretive, or very powerful, assuming you heard right."

"Powerful?" The girl was smart, but still inexperienced with such matters.

"If they have the power, through technology or sorcery, to hide their presence from humans as dedicated and skilled as the Inquisition generally are, it's not insignificant."

"I see. Do most Chaos cultists have psykers?"

"It's one of the reasons we fight them whenever we can." Khirareq tried to remember if she'd ever been this curious. "Except for cults of the blood god, of course."

"Four are our enemy, the greatest of all the warp, each a different mind, a different way of seeing, those who become lured by the pipes find their own steps, creating thousands of ways where there were four, each lure unique, and each to be approached with care, lest one falls and never dance again." Khirareq had not forgotten the harlequin still accompanied them, but Liaratali started visibly when he began speaking.

"I'll uh… remember that." She muttered, confused as to the meaning of his words.

"Each of the main gods has their own methods, their own tricks. Their followers often find their own ideas, however, and so the possible variations on tactics and abilities are quite extensive." Khirareq explained.

She nodded, and smiled, understanding that explanation better. Calleidas' mask assumed a 'hurt' expression, but the harlequin himself merely shrugged when Khirareq met his gaze.

"Is that all you know?" Khirareq asked again when the silence stretched for more than a moment.

"I'm sorry, my Queen, that is all." She looked worried, perhaps that her lack of additional information would be a punishable offense.

Khirareq merely smiled, "Very well, you may return to court, but take this." She gestured, and one of her incubi extended one gauntlet, without breaking stride, and opened her fist to reveal a delicately crafted hairclip with a psicrystal worked into it.

"A personal psicrystal channel, in case I decide I have any new questions, I'll be able to contact you directly."

Liaratali took it from her hand, and smiled before turning and dashing back the way they'd come, vaulting lithely over a low obstacle in her haste. She was honored, of course, but experienced enough to know that honors could often cut both ways.

"Youth and promise we enjoy seeing, even in the children of the dark." Calleidas' voice lilted musically as he regarded the young warrior's departure.

"Promise, definitely." Khirareq smiled, "But I do have to wonder. I don't suppose you noticed anything… unusual?"

"All kindred have their secrets, even children; we are not surprised to learn she is no exception." Khirareq had to think about that, but decided it meant there was no immediate threat. She wished Zul were present, to give her his opinion on the youth. She'd already caught the Warqueen's attention, and that could be either very dangerous, or very fortuitous for her advancement.

But she had other matters to think on. "You will accompany me? I am leaving on a short trip, and I won't be traveling alone. I don't know if you'll want to bring along some of your troupe or not."

"A few, mayhap. We sense the dance will not be without misstep. Even so, vigilance is never wasted, we believe."

"I can definitely agree with that." Khirareq had already made a mental list of who would be enlisted for her entourage, and she sent her summons as soon as she arrived in her chambers. Calleidas waited outside. She didn't think he meant her harm, but there was a limit to how far her 'trust' would extend, even with a Harlequin troupe master. There was a hiss, and a slight scent of burnt skin on the air, and she glanced towards her personal slave pen in an alcove across from her bed chamber door. A pair of eyes glared back from behind the force screen, and Khirareq laughed, "No time for 'play' today, lovely. Mommy's got an errand to run!"

Her words were greeted by a strangled hiss and a glare of absolute hatred. It warmed Khirareq's black heart, and she was still smiling when she emerged in full armor to meet with those she'd summoned to the docking bay.

"This one believes the darkened mists are omnipresent in the outer weaves." Zul explained to his companion, sifting his fingers through the air, and watching the black particles flow and swirl around his hand. "The reasoning for our name for them, one would think?"

"The lyric has indeed a rhythm." Liliath agreed.

"The Dark Ways are treacherous, but not too dangerous for a large group like ours." Their guide explained as they disembarked from their transports, and started forwards to be greeted by a small army of servants and lesser warriors. They did not try to relieve them of their weapons; probably a wise move.

"Master Malfes is awaiting your arrival in his throne room." A woman told them. She was older than Khirareq, Zul noted, though her exact age was difficult to place, as with all Eldar. He was better at such estimations than most and he wagered she must be at least a five or six thousand. Still swift and athletic, but old enough that she was starting to slow down without a ready supply of souls to rejuvenate her here in the dark ways.

The fortress was well maintained, but obviously in need of some extra reinforcements and supplies. It was a wreck compared to the tower fortress of the Soul Hunters, but understandably so. They were led along a central avenue, and into the main keep, with co-axial disintegrator turrets on each corner of the hexagonal building.

Some attempt had been made to bring the throne room up to a more generous standard, and Zul could almost forget he was in a deposed enclave as he set foot in the spacious room, and approached the dais and its occupant.

"Lord Archuleth Malfes of the Whisperers." Zul intoned, offering a curt bow, without letting his eyes leave the psyker's face. Liliath's curtsy was much more elaborate and formal, but then everything the Harlequins did seemed to require dramatization.

"You are Hierarch Zul." Malfes said, as if confirming it to himself then added, "I am pleased that Khirareq accepted my invitation to open a negotiation. And I understand why she sent you, instead of coming herself. "Please, sit." Chairs were brought forwards for them, nothing especially comfortable, but the gesture was appreciated all the same, many leaders among the True Kin never allowed their subordinates to sit while attending court.

"You wish to form an alliance, and we think that could be profitable for both our interests." Zul offered. "But we must ensure that your motives truly align with our own, and that such an alliance will indeed prove advantageous to us. To be perfectly blunt, we don't need you, but you seem to need us, and that makes your position tentative at best."

"Me and mine have already offered assistance to Khirareq; have already proven our willingness to serve her interests. And we have asked only this opportunity to further cement our alliance in exchange."

"Khirareq owes you nothing. You said yourself you offered your assistance free of obligation or charge." Zul was starting to enjoy this conversation. Malfes may have been an outcast, but he seemed to understand bartering and the deadly dance of power.

"Indeed, but it is not what I have given that has so intrigued the Warqueen. No, that earned me only this interview. It's what I still have to offer. She's never seen a Dark Eldar battle psyker in action before, and I feel confident she'll wish to witness such at least once."

"That is what I'm here to determine." Zul interjected smoothly. "I'm here to get a feel for your ability and power, both personal and that of your enclave. So by all means, I think a demonstration is in order."

"Quite so. I will admit some curiosity of my own as well." Malfes stood from his throne, and stepped off the dais. The whole stone circle shifted backwards on silent motors until it was flush with the wall, leaving the center of the room clear, except for the three of them. "I have never had the opportunity of seeing a Shadomite blade dancer in combat either."

Zul visibly started, and even Liliath looked at him with renewed interest and respect. There were very few who knew where Zul had originally trained his skills, and Malfes should not have been one of them. "You have me at a disadvantage." He was loath to admit. "And you've sparked my curiosity, as no doubt you intended."

"You wish to know, if I read that information on your mind?" Zul nodded, "No, I did not. But you did just confirm my guess, I thought I remembered you from Shadome, and from what I have heard of your skills it seemed likely you might have trained with them."

"Clever." Zul acceded the compliment, genuinely impressed. It was an intriguing trick; and one which he would not fall for twice.

"Very well, I'll face you." Zul stood, and loosened his outer robe. A fluid movement dropped it on the floor, where it was retrieved by one of Malfes' servants. Liliath stepped back as the chairs were cleared from the center of the room, and Zul slipped his void katar into his hand from its hidden sheath beneath his bracer.

Its twin slipped into his off hand, but he left it dormant, for the moment. A mental impulse activated his main weapon, and the focusing crystals at either end of the handle bent a pair of spatial folds into slightly curved blades which intersected at a point about three hand-spans in front of his closed fist. They would shear through virtually any armor with unmatched ease, which was counterbalanced by possessing particularly poor penetration against energy fields of most variety.

"Just a warning, my weapons of choice can be lethal, even in a 'friendly' duel." Zul told his opponent, but if he were afraid to get a little blooded, he wouldn't be the leader of a Dark Eldar enclave. Zul wasn't worried that he would back out.

Malfes drew a long curved knife of elaborate design and a short agonizer sword from his belt, both weapons looked sharp, and lethal. The two warriors dropped into their individual stances, and moved around one another, not yet closing to within striking distance. Observation of one's opponent–to look for clues of their fighting style–was an important stage of the duel, and since neither of them was familiar with the other in the least, they took their time sizing their opponents up.

Zul made the first offense, stepping forwards into combat range and slashing out twice, testing Malfes' defenses. He dodged the first feint, then blocked the second with his agonizer, slashing with his knife as Zul swayed out of reach, then came back in, twisting his weapon in a third attack attempting to slip past his guard.

Malfes turned aside, and the deadly 'blade' of Zul's weapon barely grazed his breast plate. "You're definitely good." Malfes agreed, "Against your skill alone I doubt I'd match you. But this isn't a demonstration of purely blade craft, is it?"

Zul nodded acknowledgement of his point, and stepped back a moment, steeling himself for some psychic attack. He did not notice immediately when his vision seemed to begin blurring, and growing dim, but when Malfes began a renewed offensive he realized the power Malfes was using on him. He could move just fine, but it was growing increasingly difficult to judge his opponent's position and actions. He blocked, and feinted, and activated his second void katar, his confidence returning along with his second weapon, and the realization that he could still keep up with his opponent.

"An interesting trick, but it doesn't seem to be granting a significant advantage now that I know how to compensate for it." Zul told the Archuleth.

"It works best at longer range." Malfes shrugged, then added, "But it's served its purpose, I've managed to cut you a few times."

"It's only superficial." Zul reminded him, dancing forwards and slashing several times as he flipped over Malfes, landing two blows along his upper arm and shoulder, both shallow, but enough to sting.

Malfes extended one hand, and a ripple of invisible energy seemed to project towards Zul. This time the effects of his power were immediate. Zul did not cry out, but the sudden pain coming from his shallow wounds stunned him very briefly. It didn't stop there either, but mounted gradually, forcing him to grit his teeth as he fought to break the psyker's concentration with a new series of attacks.

He was used to pain, and did not fear it in the least, but this power was potent, and could swiftly become debilitating. "Hold, dancer." Malfes called, as Zul's blade came to rest a hairsbreadth from his throat. "That is a small taste of my power, but I also accede your victory." The pain, uncertainty, and visual dampening lifted, and Zul took several deep breaths. He hadn't even realized his nerves were being so frayed by Malfes' influence. He wondered if that were directly intentional, or a side effect of his overall ability.

"That was… not an experience I would wish to repeat." Zul told his foe, deactivating his weapons and taking several steps back.

"You are disciplined, and hardened against terror and fear, as well as highly confident and skilled. Imagine how such power would affect a less seasoned soldier, and one unaccustomed to our ways?" Malfes' grinned, it was clear he enjoyed the way his power effected people, and looked forwards to seeing its results in combat against the Soul Hunters' enemies.

"I think Khirareq may indeed be pleased with my report; that was, unsettling, and intriguing at the same time." Zul offered a rare smile, and donned his outer robe once more. Then he glanced towards Liliath, her mask morphed from an expression of watchfulness to one of pleasure.

"The taint does not mark the Archuleth, yet marked he has yet been. The seer knows curiosity, and would enjoy the telling of this mystery. She does not presently understand, and understanding we seek in all things."

Malfes regarded Liliath, absorbing her words, and something else passed between them, something Zul thought one would likely have to be a psyker to truly understand. "A symbiosis. They are called, Morghuls, and they live in this part of the webway. I do not know where they came from originally, but they have some connection with the warp, and no love of Chaos. I believe they may have been driven out of the warp by the daemons of the enemy. Through our bond, we protect one another, and it gives me the tools I need to hone my art without fear of the thirst."

"That is quite a claim. Has it been tested outside the webway?" Zul wondered aloud.

"It has, though not as much as I may have liked. That is, in part, why I wish to ally with the Queen of War."

"Well, let us talk somewhere more private, where we can discuss the details of our potential association." Zul suggested, and Malfes agreed, leading them into a smaller anteroom where they could sit comfortably and pursue their discussion as long as they desired.

Syrus, or Brother Captain Syrus as he was called now, stood in the observation deck of the cruiser he'd inherited from his former captain, the Lance Glorificus. He and the other grey knights still mourned the loss of Brother Captain Perseon, a great leader who did not even receive the honor of dying in combat with their nemesis, the minions of Chaos. It was a heavy burden to bear, but Syrus bore it willingly, and gratefully, hoping only that he honored his memory and the immortal emperor with his own service and leadership.

The stars beyond the windows glittered mockingly in the inky void of space, and Syrus regarded each in turn as if they could provide an answer to his troubles. Inquisitor Markus was putting everyone on edge, and it was with difficulty that Syrus had retained his composure. The sensor systems of their ship and the nearby station were still offline, several dozen cycles after they'd been taken out of commission by an incursion of eldar pirates. Parts of the systems had been corrupted by an advance virus, and while they had been isolated, they would need to be replaced before the entire system could be brought back online.

The problem with that, of course, was that while the order for parts had been sent out, they had to be requisitioned through the proper channels, and even for an inquisitorial strike force with the authority to cut through the logistical nightmare, that could take time.

"I'm listening to you." He said automatically when Markus asked if he'd heard a word he'd said, "I empathize with your zeal and your anger." Syrus added, "But there is no known reliable method of entering the webway. We would have to negotiate with the eldar to aid us in entering, which neither of us desires or we would have to requisition some stolen eldar artifacts, and hope they would serve our purposes without destroying us all in the attempt. The only non-eldar to successfully breach the webway in recorded history are our enemies, and we will not negotiate or deal with them in any way."

This was not the first time Syrus had said this, but he said it with the same patience and sympathy he'd used the last time, and the first time, and as before, it mollified Markus only a little. "We can't just let them… get away, without reprisal."

"Vengeance is not our way." Syrus reminded him. "And I believe we have not seen the last of these eldar, as I've said. They disabled our systems for a reason, and I have no doubt they have continued interest in this star system. If we are patient, our enemy will come to us."

"Easy for you to say." Markus stormed off, and Syrus just shook his head. He wished he had Perseon's rigid discipline. He was patient, and good at holding his emotions in check. He'd never lost his mind to anger or battle lust, but Markus was starting to irritate him, and his stress seemed somewhat contagious.

"We'll have our chance." He spoke to the void outside the window, and sighed. He had a bad feeling about whatever was to come. Markus' inability to let go of his anger did not bode well, but Syrus knew he and his men were up to the task of whatever lay ahead. "Which is the greater threat, at present?" He wondered, to no one in particular, "Perseon's murderers, or the defilers we hunted to this frozen system."

He wondered how long they would have to wait, how long he and his men would sit idle before… No, he wouldn't allow them to waste away idle; he realized that may have been part of the problem right there. Idleness was discouraged; it promoted frustrations and irritations like he'd been seeing, not just in Markus' forces but in some of his own grey knights as well, particularly since Perseon had been killed. Perseon had a gift of infinite patience, and he could keep his people occupied between missions in such a way that they never felt idle. Syrus was not Perseon, much as he'd been called upon to fill those rigid shoes.

He activated his vox bead and spoke to both his second and leader of his honor guard, and Markus' personal assistant both at the same time, "I have decided on a course of action. We cannot strike back directly at the assassin interlopers, and neither can we presently locate our true targets in this system. We will not sit and do nothing, and therefore I'm calling a council of all ranking grey knight and inquisitorial forces aboard the Lance Glorificus. We have a target, and we will begin preparations to fight it until such time as our resources or luck returns to us. Meet in preparation room fourteen, Syrus out."

He felt better already, he'd barely realized just how much the waiting was grating on him, but the wait was finally over. The daemon hunters were going to war!

Author's Comments: This is the eleventh chapter in what will hopefully be a series of short stories following the exploits of my Dark Eldar army list, the characters were interesting enough in my mind that I thought a little dramatization was in order, and I hope people enjoy it, whether or not they are familiar with Dark Eldar, or even with the worlds of Warhammer 40,000. Please inform me if you enjoyed reading this, and feel free to critique if you like.

Once again the copyrights for the Warhammer 40,000 worlds belongs to Games Workshop. All characters depicted in this story are copyrighted by me. The exception is the name of my main character (Khirareq), which I did not invent.

I apologize for how long it's taken me to update recently. I have had difficulty with inspiration due in large part to a falling out between me and the community. The people there are for the most part great and very helpful for a writer like me, but circumstances have not allowed me to continue with their site. I have no intention of stopping updates on this story, but it could get a little rough, so bear with me. Thanks!