11Storm Heralds Reading List
Book 1 Maledicti Venator, Serrati Stellas, Tenebris Resurget, Finis Fide, In Tergum Cultro, Omni Honore, Carpe Posterum, Vacuus Cymba, Noctem Oritur,
Book 2 Umbram Ignis, Ancra Mortis, Fame Cimex, Crux Lapis, Saeva Abyssi.
Book 3 Captum Ante
Venenum Filios Chapter 1
998.M41
He ran, ran for all he was worth, putting one foot in front of the other, over and over. What else could he do, he couldn't fight this, he couldn't beg, bargain or threaten either, not with this. So he ran as quickly as his legs could carry him, pushing himself faster with every fibre of his being. The Juvie's name was Jerrick, a scrawny lad with long limbs and little fat on his body. He was covered in gang tattoos and piercings, declarations in ganger language of the number of men he had killed and the scores he had claimed. A few of them were even true.
Jerrick was currently racing through the dark under-hive, passing slums and hovels on all sides as he desperately fled. High above his head soared the awe-inspiring peaks of the Hive Cities, the mighty conurbations that dominated Tectum, capital world of the Saint Karyl Trail. Those man-made mountains were so high and proud that they scratched the edge of space. Places where the rich and the powerful could enjoy staggering vistas, not that Jerrick would ever see them.
Jerrick was a lowly ganger, born in the darkness of the under-hive and destined to die without ever seeing sunlight. Just like a million, billion other souls in this galaxy. Yet it was doubtful he would ever understand that truth, in fact, it was doubtful he would live out the day. Jerrick glanced behind him and saw Amelia, Koru and Jazza right behind him, their own faces red and puffy from exertion. They were his last companions, all that remained of their gang. They had been hired to fetch a certain item for a powerful employer, just one more simple job for some rich guy but it had all gone epically wrong.
Jerrick shuddered when he thought of what had happened, mere minutes ago. They had found the item easily enough and retrieved it, then all hell had broken loose. As soon as Jerrick had placed the item in his belt pouch they had been attacked, hit hard and fast by huge monsters clad head to toe in metal.
The gang had tried to fight back but had been hopelessly outmatched, like babes beating on a parent's leg. Las-pistols, shotguns, vibro-knives, all had proven useless against those killers and most of the gang had been slaughtered. The four survivors knew all too well when they were outmatched and had fled for their lives, dropping their guns lest the weight slow them down. Jerrick heard a thud behind him and glanced back, seeing Koru sprawled in the dust.
"Leave him," shouted Jerrick.
Amelia cried, "But we…"
"Run," cried Jerrick, "Just run!"
Gangers knew all too well the importance of looking after themselves and they ran, leaving their comrade behind. A second later there was a scream and the sound of flesh tearing and they knew that the killers were still right on their tail. Jerrick was running hard, his chest heaving and his legs turning to jelly yet he dare not relent. They were moving as fast as humanly possible but still they had not lost their pursuers, in fact, it seemed that they were being easily outpaced.
"Gotta reach the rendezvous," Jerrick gasped between heaving breaths, "Reach the rendezvous and the guy will keep us safe."
"This way, it's a shortcut," cried Jazza diving into a dark alley between two slums.
"No," yelled Jerrick but it was too late, there was a sharp snick and then something came rolling out of the alley. It was Jazza's head, smoothly separated from his neck. Jerrick grabbed Amelia's hand and pulled her along, yelling "Keep going, get to the rendezvous. The guy, he can keep us safe."
They ran once more, fleeing for their lives. Jerrick could feel sharp pains in his shins as he ran, the life of a ganger not training him for this kind of long distance running. He dare not stop though; all he could do was keep putting one foot before another and drag Amelia along behind him. She was labouring harder than he was and struggled to keep up. Jerrick kept urging her on though, trying to keep her with him. He had always entertained hopes of tapping that girl but failing that she might be useful as a bullet shield if the worst came to pass.
Just as they passed the open mouth of another alley there was a sharp bang and something whizzed past Jerrick, making his skin crawl with its nearness. There was another bang and Jerrick felt something wet splash up his back, he thought for a heart-stopping moment that he had been hit but to his relief, he seemed unharmed. He raced on, gripping Amelia's hand tightly and pushing himself to the limit.
It took a good few seconds for reality to penetrate his exhausted mind, but at last he realized something horrible. He glanced down and saw that while he was still holding Amelia's hand the rest of her body apparently wasn't attached. The hand and wrist clamped in his grip ended in a bloody stump and there was no sign of the rest of her.
Jerrick gasped in horror and dropped the severed limb, leaving it behind him as he fled. Sheer terror gripped his soul now, pushing him beyond his limits. He had to reach his employer, the guy was his only hope now of escaping this nightmare. Slum after slum flashed past and Jerrick's legs felt like jelly under him as his vision began to grey out from lack of oxygen. He couldn't stop though, to stop was to die. He had to keep going and sheer animal instinct pushed him on, the urge to survive making him surpass what he thought was possible.
Jerrick had no idea how long he ran or how close the killers were to him, his world had shrunk down to the path before him and the road under his aching feet. Then at last he saw it, the welcome sight of the rendezvous, representing blessed safety. Jerrick forced himself forward on wobbly legs, placing one numb foot after another. He felt the gaze of the killers on his neck every inch of the way but at last he stumbled through the empty doorway and fell into the dark interior.
Jerrick lay there for long minutes, chest heaving for air and limbs cramping as lactic acids drained from his muscles. Pain wracked his frame and a sick feeling churned in his guts, part exhaustion part rank terror. Every inch of him ached, body, mind and soul, he felt drained and spent, like a wrung-out rag.
After what seemed to be an eternity Jerrick rolled over and rose to his knees. He glanced back out the doorway, seeing nothing beyond. It appeared that the killers were wary of this building and its protector. Thinking of that made Jerrick look about the building, trying to find what he had come here for. The building was a ramshackle ruin, filled with mould and decaying furniture. It was indistinguishable from a million other run-down slums, but this was the rendezvous, he was certain of that. Jerrick staggered upright and took a hesitant step, calling out, "Hello?"
From the darkness came a voice, stern and patrician in aspect, "You're late."
Jerrick felt equal parts relief and dread as he answered, "We were attacked, the others, they're all dead."
The voice replied, "Your problems are not my concern."
With that a man stepped forward into the wan light, in matt black power armour that hummed as he moved and with a long black cloak that hung behind him. His armour was decorated with imposing icons and he had a las-pistol holstered at his hip. He exuded an aura of threatening menace well beyond his size, this was emphasised by his bald, scarred head and sneering expression. Yet the most ominous thing about him was the Inquisitorial rosette on his breast: which even a lowly Juvie like Jerrick recognised to be the mark of the Ordo Hereticus. This was the guy and his employer, an Inquisitor by the name of Zerban.
Zerban looked Jerrick up and down and then said, "Did you find it?"
Jerrick looked over his shoulder then said, "There are things out there, they're after me. You have to promise me protection, say you'll keep them away from me."
Zerban's face could have been made from stone as he repeated, "Did you find it?"
Jerrick fumbled with his belt pouches and then produced a small data-crystal, the cause of all this death and destruction. He presented it to the Inquisitor, his dirty hands leaving stains upon its flawless surface. Then Jerrick begged, "There you've got what you wanted; now you have to keep them away, keep me safe, right."
However Zerban wasn't listening, he was holding the crystal up to the light and examining its crystal matrix. His eyes narrowed as he pondered its mysteries but then lowered back to Jerrick. Quick as a flash Zerban's las-pistol was in his hands, the barrel pointed right at the Juvie. Jerrick barely had time to gape in stupefied confusion before the Las-pistol blazed and he felt his legs collapse beneath him.
Jerrick fell down, hands clasped to his guts and he felt a terrible coldness begin to creep up his legs. Zerban moved nearer to stand over him and pointed the Las-pistol between his eyes. Jerrick had time to croak one last, "Why?"
Zerban replied grimly, "No witnesses," then the gun fired and ended the Juvie's short life in a flash. Zerban wasted no time lingering over the corpse, he tucked the data-crystal away and then turned and stomped off, leaving only death in his wake.
Long minutes passed as the corpse slowly cooled and vermin began to creep out of the shadows, intent of feasting on the body. But they were sent scattering by the clomp of armoured boots. Slowly a pair of giant beings entered the run-down slum. Each of them was eight feet tall and clad in thick ceramite plates, decorated in shades of turquoise and inscribed with writhing serpents. One of them held a huge double-bladed axe in his hands while the other carried a staff crested with a three-headed snake and his helm had four twisted horns upon it.
The pair of them looked upon the corpse and the one with the axe declared, "So Beta, they took the bait."
"Yes Gamma," Beta replied, "The wheels are now in motion."
Gamma idly kicked the corpse and said, "You're sure Zerban will take the data to the Storm Heralds, he does hate them after all."
"Who else could he possibly turn to?" Beta replied, "The information will tell him everything he needs to know about our base. He will see the defences and know that only another force of Space Marine could penetrate them. Inquisitors never let a little thing like personal feelings get in the way of their missions… it's what makes them so wonderfully easy to manipulate."
Gamma nodded and said, "So the Storm Heralds will come to us and when they do…"
Beta replied, "We will be ready, it is time that the Imperial lapdogs learned the truth of this galaxy. The truth that the Hydra always wins."
Gamma nodded, pleased by that answer and then the pair of them departed, leaving only shadows and death in their wake. Behind them Jerrick's corpse began its long journey into decay and as the vermin returned a chill wind blew through the open door. A wind that would push many unsuspecting individuals to places that they could never have expected to go and into encounters with some whom they could never have predicted to meet.
