Warhammer 40,000: Spires Of Drex

“Master, we have movement inside the perimeter….” replied the Immortal as he slowly pushed in the rusted steel door to the armory.

Khord the Unbroken was already up, pistol and chain sword in hand, what remained of his World Eater power armor already donned as the perimeter alarm changed its tone.

Multiple contacts were closing in, moving fast…

“Summon the Immortals, unchain the Objekt, and be ready at the sensor array in two minutes.” barked Khord as he activated the promethium generator that replaced his power armored backpack.

“Have I been on Drex that long?” his mind wandered.

When the Butcher’s Nails weren’t screaming pain into his spine there were moments when time was less fluid…

Decades ago landing on the Mechanicus forge world of Drex with thousands of his World Eater battle brothers, under the watchful banner of the Blind King, they destroyed in the name of the gods for months before the Inquisition exterminated the planet with a barrage of cyclone torpedoes and rad-bombs.

Abandoned by the Blind King, Khord was the last of his company on what remained of Drex…

…years sifting through the ruins in search of something to take him far away from Drex and extract his revenge on the Blind King for leaving him…

Gathering his warband, they moved north of the first tower to get a better view of the hab ruins before them, shadows danced in the light, perhaps a dozen or so humanoid shapes…

“Immortals, to the right, lay down covering fire as the rest advance with me low and fast.” he barked as two Immortals checked their auto-guns before taking up a covering position. Khord cared little for them, and why should he? His “immortals” were the crazed remains of the serf-workers of the forge world. Betrayed by their Mechanicus masters, left to die like he was, they followed him simply because they were used to being told what to do. ‘Immortal’ since when one died, a new one took up it’s wargear and death-mask from the ashen waste.

As the group advanced auto-gun fire barked overhead keeping the shadows pinned in place…

Taking cover behind the north tower, Khord looked past one of the battle-walls left behind from the invasion. Thin, tall, humanoids in black body fitting armor, adorned with chains and blades took up a defensive position.

“Xenos…” spit Khord. He may have evolved beyond his loyalist battle brothers but he was still human.

He hated them, not because they were different, or faced him on the field of battle, no he hated them because they were incapable of feeling good honest human hatred.

Golgoth the rogue Imperial Guard ogryn had never seen a xenos before, and wondering what it’s skull would like like in his skull bag pushed his hulking form forward around the corner…

…as seconds later a dark-flash of light exploded in front of him as barbed shards tore into his chest striping away his flesh as he toppled over spilling his collection of skulls from his sack.

“We charge! Take the field!” bellowed Khord, as the Immortals rushed forward as a hail of barbed splinter fire exploded around them.

“Keep their heads down…grenades…” he ordered as they surged forward, the Immortal to his right dropping to the ground motionless.

“Burn their lives away!” he signaled to the Immortal carrying a flame thrower as it ignited its promethium stink and washed over the xenos.

“Release the Objekt!” he motioned in-between plasma pistol discharges before jumping over the barrier and plunging his chain sword into one of the aliens, the Butcher’s Nails in his head screaming in agony…

The dead cost nothing, two dead Immortals, four dead xenos, and Golgoth who would recover in time, his stocky constitution and stupidity once again saving him.

While the spoils taken from the xenos would help, it was how they arrived on Drex that interested Khord…

…and how they planned to leave the planet.

CITIZENS OF HESTUS V, RISE UP AGAINST YOUR IMPERIAL SLAVE MASTERS!

A whisper in the ear, a coin in the hand, and full rebellion follows…

Free from the restraints of the Imperium the serf-workers of Hestus V rose up against their Mechanicus masters. With a population of five billion serfs and only 300 tech priests, the quick decision was made to call in a Space Marine strike force consisting of Ultramarines and White Scars to put down the rebellion.

Naturally it was a trap, the true force behind the shadows was waiting, as dozen of Chaos Space Marine warbands counter attacked.

Some fought for freedom.

Some fought for hate.

Others for slaves.

A few for power…

While Khord the Unboken fought for revenge.

Having escaped from his “imprisonment” on the forge world of Drex through the Dark Eldar webway portal, he now found himself at ground zero of a new rebellion. As one of hundreds of smaller warbands who follow the banners of the Dark Gods, he knew given the size of the battle and the glory to be won that the Blind King would be here.

Knowing that the final victory of the gods will come, but not here or today he held his warband back near the staging zone of the invasion, fighting the urge of the Butcher’s Nails which screamed for him to enter into the bloodshed of battle.

Khord knew that when the Space Marines made landing, backed by the Imperial Guard, and a few grim faced Inquisitorial fools, the lords and chosen of Chaos would make their escape- the Blind King would follow, and Khord would be there…

…as long as his Immortals could hold back the bikes of the White Scars which had broken through the first of the press-gang and slave lines.

Khord had to laugh, it was hard to tell what surprised the White Scars more- the sight of one who stood with Horus at the Gates of Terra so long ago, or the dozens of Immortals who dared to challenge the elite of the Space Marines.

Armed with little more than flack armor, auto guns, and some improvised chain weapons, they crashed and stalled the brunt of the White Scar attack.

These men, his Immortals had what the White Scars lacked…

…faith.

Slamming down behind him, right into the heart of the staging zone were numerous White Scar drop pods as heavy weapon Devastators took up position.

As predictable as ever, Khord had prepared his own response signaling to the renegade ogryn Golgoth to release his Khell Hounds- massive mutated beasts taken from the rad wastes and chem pits of Drex.

Now the retreat was in full force, and those with notice quickly made for the transports and assault boats ready to escape the planet while billions of fools would be left to die as they lived…alone.

Locating the transport of the Blind King, Khord and the last of his Immortals pushed on board as Golgoth held the line and died with his beloved beasts…

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