"We stand at a junction, with roads leading to both abject defeat and glorious victory. In order to choose the right path to follow we need first to look back along the road that has led us to this point..."
-Commissar Sebastian Yarrick
3.844.000.M42
Many days have passed since the opening of the Great Rift. War Zone Armageddon found itself cut off from support for both Imperial and Ork forces, and those en route to the system were swept into oblivion. In the midst of battle the raging, galaxy-wide Warp Storm assailed Armageddon with waves upon waves of daemons. At times, so desperate were the defenders that Orks and Humans fought alongside each other against the greater threat. Such temporary ceasefires never lasted long.
By the time the beacon of the Astronomican burned bright once more and easy travel through the Immaterium was possible, an Imperial relief force arrived to find the landscape of Armageddon greatly changed. At the height of the Warp Storms, the daemonic forces of Tzeentch and Khorne had battled each other as part of their eternal competition in the Great Game.
The Orks and Imperial defenders sought cover as titanic Greater Daemons duelled for supremacy. Fully half the planet was reshaped into a hellish landscape reminiscent of many Daemon Worlds, a nightmare born of the Warp merged with the ruins of a war-torn Hive World. The Imperial reinforcements, led by elements of nine Space Marine Chapters with the Salamanders in overall command, succeeded in halting a daemonic ritual that would have brought Angron, the Primarch of the World Eaters, back to the world that had defied him during the First War for Armageddon.
The Archenemy is no longer and issue yet the Warp Storms furthered it's death grip on the ruined sector and it's warlike occupants. Their grasp would eventually lead these benighted realms into a different plane of existence.
She was handed a mission. A simple mission given by her leaders of Craftworld Ulthwé and the newly formed Ynnari, concerning a particular area in space that may or may not revolve around a certain costly and devastating Ork incursion due to in part of her mentor's meddling. But such things matter little now as news came from her leaders in regards to a summoning of a prolific fallen human demigod and she was to relay this message to the Salamander Space Marine chapter whilst providing as much assistance as she can. Fortunately they were successful. Unfortunately the Warp Storms intensified. She, who tried to escape back into Eldar rich lands wasn't lucky in her attempt. The assigned Ghostlance went adrift in the worst place anyone can possibly be at and in the worst time.
By the time the ship submerged and broke free from the Warp she saw the vessel fall into the surface of a random planet. The pilot then screamed at the Eldar psyker to abandon ship.
"Farseer you must escape!"
"You're not coming with me?!"
"I can still handle her! Just take a Vyper and leave me!"
The chances of survival within this falling craft are slim but outside raises it tenfold. Nodding grimly the Ulthwé Aeldari got on one of the jetbikes and drove out of the drop-ship. Maneuvering through mountains and foreign blue buildings the Farseer with her intrinsic foresight found a safe place to land, a plateau. Steering it while coming close to crashing the jetbike she is safe but in unknown territory. As her boots hit the ground she looked up to see a planet still burning with war.
Armageddon.
Bright yellow bolts from Ork made tellyportas spewed out of the war-torn world making contact with the globe she first landed on. Some manifested Orks (possibly dead) and others came in the form of Imperium vehicles. Regardless the Eldar of the Damned gathered her necessities and wandered through this new world. Her first thoughts of this planet were negative as she found the atmosphere drab and the local amphibious fauna, horny toads of all names, repulsively annoying/annoyingly repulsive. Soon as they impaled themselves on the Farseer's Singing Spear the creatures explode, showering the blade in dirty green gore. Shaking her head in disgust she pressed on facing more of the local wildlife from a random bridge and to the cliffs beyond that. Afterwards she saw a squad of turquoise-colored, unipedal robots firing bolts of electricity at a stationary Imperial machine. The vehicle whirred and moved it's four long-barreled Autocannons in front of the attacking robots.
"Yes!" A man's triumphant shout can be heard as the Hydra's automated turret was locked and loaded before firing its heavy calibre, high velocity explosive rounds turning the mechanical attackers into scrap. Jumping out of the turret is a lone Guardsman accoutred in carriers, harnesses, black caraprace armor splattered green with checks and dags, a flecktarn greatcoat complete with a helmeted Blast/Gas Mask. What's most surprising about this Imperial was the fact that he bears Orkoid weapons and paraphernalia. His wargear appears ramshackle and slapped-together; in addition to the feral appearance of the Guardsman are teef necklaces, a bull skull, Stikkbombs and additional bloodstained armour plates.
Suddenly a mob of horned toads appeared behind the Farseer scramble to get their next meal. The Orkish Human walked towards the woman, pushing her to the side and aimed his flamer at the minute horde, spraying great gouts of azure-white flame. Unbeknownst to the Farseer this isn't your regular standard-issue flamethrower. No, this unique version of a Splash Burna holds more than just pressured squig-oil, highly refined promethium and Plasma Gun compartments but also a cocktail of various corrosive chemical compounds and Ecclesiarchy-blessed oils. It proved effectively brutal, the amphibians became little more than black ash.
"Imperial." The Ulthwé woman announced catching the Guardsman attention. Turning around, the soldier tilted his gasmasked head in perplexity.
"Huh? A pointy-'ead?" He said in Orkish Low Gothic.
"Pointy..." The woman froze at the term he used for Eldar. Was that endearing? Shaking her head she proceeded to question him. "What're you doing here?"
"Writing."
"I... What?" That threw her off. Sure she's not the best when it comes to multilingualism but his phrases are throwing her in a loop. Seeing her confusion despite the Ghosthelm he hummed to himself before realizing why she is baffled.
"Right. Rhyming slang." He then clears his throat. A couple of nanoseconds of constricting laryngopharyngeal tissues and vibration of the palatoglossal arch and the vocal folds have passed and he finally answered. "Fighting."
Her shoulders slumped slightly. "Of course."
The Guardsman looked around, taking in the new environment he's currently on.
"Hmm... I've a feeling we're not in Hell Town anymore, let alone Armageddon."
"So it would seem. We are both strangers in a strange land."
"Aye; A land filled with killy zzapbots. There some more coming over the horizon right now."
True to his word another squad of turquoise plated robots came in force. With a flick of her wrist the Farseer utilized her enhanced Warp-based powers, flinging the robots down into the ravine beside them. Looking down at their scrapped remains the Guardsman commented on her abilities.
"Nifty."
She raised an eyebrow beneath her helm.
"Curious. You're not disgorging the routine xenophobic platitudes of your Imperium."
"I'm Catheric." He said while pulling back from the cliff.
"...?" Headtilt.
"It's an ancient faith from Terra."
"An Imperial with a different set of beliefs. Surprising given your government's state religion."
"The colonel I once served under says that all a man needs to do is fight and die. I don't think it matters what I choose to believe, long as I still perform my duty to the Emperor of Man. Until it ends with my life that is."
"To such an extant... Isn't that a bit extreme?" She said, frankly disturbed at his fatalistic outlook on life.
"That's the Krieg way." He shrugged before readying his flamethrower; moving a few feet away from the Eldar. "Want me to take point?"
"If you think that is best..."
The more they moved deeper into the plateau the frequent the droids and toads existence became. A nuisance they gladly rectified. The Aeldari in black, bone and crimson butchered the hostile natives with ease. Every slash, cast and puncture from her spear was perfect in dealing the fatal blow. Her 'associate' on the other hand unleashed great plumes of plasma-fire, scorching the machines, creatures and ground in front of him to an irrecoverable crisp. Immediately as the robots were being cornered a cry of zealous fury is heard from the brindle skies.
"AD IMPERATOR!"
Descending from above on wings of fire is a silver and white encased Seraphim from the Order of the Argent Shroud, one of the major Orders Militant of the Adepta Sororitas. With an obscenely large double-handed revving Chainsword in her hands she bisected the last remaining unipedal robots in one fell swoop. A vicious end for the miserable automatons. Inwardly she hoped that these were the last of them, for now anyways. Closing her eyes the armoured warrior incited a quiet prayer to her God, the Emperor before someone called her from the sidelines.
"Hail Sister!"
Shifting her gaze away from the pile of ruined metal gaze she sees the Veteran Guardsman and Ulthwé Farseer near what seems to be a crash site. Leaning the serrated weapon on her pauldron she calmly walked towards the duo before greeting them.
"Guardsman. Eldar."
"Tidings Sororitas. I presume you are here by chance?"
"Indeed. Damnable Warp Storm. Just when the Orks and their teleportation apparatuses aren't enough to displace loyal Imperial warriors." She cursed at the unexpected daemonic event.
"Speaking of those Ork things. I overheard the Morks saying that ever since Gork's Grin came about some of the tellyportas they were using began malfunctioning."
"Meaning...?" The warrior-nun questioned, fearing the answer she may get.
"Meaning that anyone in or out Armageddon, Ork and/or Human are subjects to being hit by those stray tellyporta bolts. Sending them who knows where."
"So that's what happened to us. We're here because of the Ork's faulty devices."
"Aye."
"By the Throne. It can't get worse than this can it?"
Over at the crash site a small droid popped up from the wreckage inciting a reaction from the three to aim their firearms at the little thing. Before they get the chance to satisfy their itchy trigger fingers the robot transformed into a monitor and displayed an infomercial.
The screen showed an unknown orange-red skinned, black mane xeno with glowing teal eyes in a suit addressing to those watching this visual message within the confines of a spacecraft.
"Hello, citizens of-
On-screen (all caps), showing a planet with an appearance not dissimilar to a Garden or Agri-World.
"-Novalis. My race, the Blarg, have a small problem. Our planet has become so polluted, overpopulated, and poisonous, that we are no longer able to dwell here, but I, Chairman Drek, have a solution. We are constructing a pristine new world using the choices of planetary components available. So, what does this mean to you, you might ask? Using highly sophisticated technology, which you couldn't possibly understand, we will be extracting a large portion of your planet and adding it to our new one."
On-screen, showing blueprints for the aforementioned planet, a giant interplanetary claw and its uncanny procedure of ripping a large chunk of the world's surface.
"Unfortunately, this change in mass will cause your planet to spin out of control and drift into the sun where it will explode into a flaming ball of gas, but, of course, sacrifices must be made. Thank you for your cooperation."
"Cut!" His director shouted, the camera still recording him jabbing a finger with his tone sounding more aggressive than professional.
"And if you don't like it, you can take your whiny, sniveling, snot nosed populations, form a line behind me and kiss my- We're still on? Well turn it off, you idiot!"
This left the trio speechless. A newfound xeno race with potentially dangerous technology have just publicly displayed their terracidal missive to CREATE a brand-new planet with torn pieces from several of the different planet's surfaces. The silence didn't take long before a meek response finally broke the absence of sound.
"I hate to say this Sororitas... but I believe it can get worse... much, much worse." The Eldar said, preparing herself for the Sister of Battle's astonished response. If the zealous female crusader in silver wasn't mad enough in regards to the Greenskins and their outlandishly illogical sciences, this xeno's plan surpasses it a hundred-fold.
She. Is. Livid.
"HERESY! ABSOLUTE, UNFORGIVABLE HERESY!" As the Ulthwé Farseer tries her best to placate the seething Sister of Battle, the Imperial Guardsman stood there shaking his head in disappointment at the fact that these 'Blargs' refuse to handle what seems like a still hospitable Death World.
"Those aliens wouldn't last an hour if they were on Krieg."
Merry Christmas.
Hope you enjoyed, reviewed or saw it from a kilo away.
P.S. I hope you catch some of the key details as to who these lovely people are and the few details I inserted here post-EverythingWentToHellForThe40kUniverse.
BYE! SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER!
The trio sat near an abandoned garage with nothing else better to do but unveiling their identities. After removing their helmets, the big reveal became cognizant. Seeing each other faces for the first time the Aeldari let out a light giggle.
"Oh dearest Isha... I didn't think the three of us would have the same hair colour." She commented while moving a stray lock of her mane away from her eyes.
The Guardsman reacted differently, combing/scratching his head prior to moving his sight to the Seraphim who sat there emotionless until a snicker flew passed her lips.