6Storm 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, Veneum Filios, Locum Ignotus, Domus Discordia
Book 4 Cincere Tempestas, Ignis in Vacui, Indomitus Bellum, Falsa Verum.
Falsa Verum Chapter 1
The fleet was burning; a score of ships reduced to flaming wrecks as oxygen spilt out of rents in their hulls. They spun helplessly in orbit, twisted spars protruding from every angle as their superstructures shattered. Trapped in the wrecks thousands of mortal crewmen wailed and prayed unto the Omnissiah as their life-support slowly failed, knowing that nothing could stop death coming for them. Countless saviour pods spilt out from the sundered vessels, but there was nowhere to go, their feeble thrusters lacked the power to reach escape velocity and the harsh grip of gravity dragged them down.
Below them the planet spun uncaringly, a harsh bleak world of dusty deserts and inhospitable salt flats. It was a tiny rock orbiting a harshly radioactive star, whose searing light scoured the deserts with every sunrise. It was a most unworthy place to die for, the planet's only item of note was a small Adeptus Mechanicus research facility, whose mostly-metal inhabitants cared nothing more for radiation than they did comfort. Yet someone thought this place worth fighting for, the facility was ringed by an army, Traitor Space Marines, advancing with full fury. Many different colours were on display and many old icons could be discerned, but each and everyone had one unadulterated symbol on their person, a many-headed snake. The Hydra, emblem of the thrice-accursed Alpha Legion.
They were a mismatched collection of renegades, Traitors and turncoats, yet their fighting skills were in no way diminished and they smote the defending skitarii warriors with startling speed. Their bolters and melee weapons spilt oily lubricants freely as they broke the outer perimeter wide open and stormed the facility itself. At the last gates, under the shadow of the wall guns, the Skitarii turned and reformed, holding their guns tightly as their Noosphere calculated the last stand had come. Yet just as they were about to present arms the wall-guns turned and opened fire on the defenders, mowing them down in scores. Seconds later the agents of the Alpha Legion already within the facility sent the command to open the gates, having seized the control centre and slain everyone who could have opposed them.
As the Traitor Marines poured into the facility they were watched from far above by cold and uncaring eyes. High in orbit lurked a vast starship, one that totally eclipsed the paltry Martian defensive flotilla. Those ships had been brutal pugilists, built for destruction, but this vessel put them to shame. It was a titan of the void, a queen of all she surveyed and she laughed at any lesser pretenders. Rank upon rank of cooling weapon batteries covered her flanks, buried within armour thicker than anything the Imperium of man could produce. Her prow was a twin-bladed fork, that protected a launch bay larger than most starforts could boast, while forward and dorsal lances stood ready to unleash death in an instant. She was a legend brought to life, a dinosaur in an age of rodents, a Glorianna class battleship and her name was, 'The Shadow of the Emperor'.
Upon the Shadow's amphitheatre like bridge her commander stood upon a raised dais and surveyed the scene. He was clad in shimmering green-blue armour, covered in arcane robes that bore eldritch symbols and icons that hurt the eye to look upon. His helm was crested with four twisted horns and he carried a staff crowned with a three-headed serpent. His name was Beta, Sorcerer of Chaos, commander of the Shadow and the Alpha Legion cell it housed.
Beta looked over the amphitheatre like bridge taking in the sunken pits where mutant crewmen laboured to control the multitudes of systems such a mammoth vessel required. He drew in a breath and called, "Report!"
From among the crew another Alpha Legionnaire stood up, one with armour flecked with darker green, growled, "Ground forces have penetrated the facility."
"Excellent," Beta replied, "Tell them to kill everyone then bring the contents of the labs to us."
"They already know that," the other replied sullenly.
Beta fought the urge to snap at him, Delta was a squad Brother to him, the closest bond possible in a Legion riddled with distrust. Such comradeship was the only thing that held the Legion together but sadly their union had been shattered some time ago. Another Brother, Gamma, had died in a tussle with some piffling loyalist Chapter and the squad blamed Beta for the death. Beta chewed his lip under his helm then added, "Tell the ground force, they can claim whatever spoils they like."
Beta knew it was superfluous, the Traitors would take what they wanted anyway, but he had to present himself as a generous lord. Chaos warlords lived and died upon their accomplishments, they had to keep their troops satisfied or the knives would be drawn. Beta knew it well, that was how he had risen to command after all. A lord who was too miserly with spoils or lost too often, would be swiftly eliminated by rebellious troops, so keeping the spoils coming was essential. Unfortunately the last few years had resulted in meagre picking, the galaxy was spilt in twain by an unprecedented warp rift and unsullied hordes of loot were few and far between.
From across the bridge another Chaos Marine, this one with various tools hanging from his belt, announced, "The orbital lanes are clogged with debris, the gunships will have a hard time getting back." That was Epsilon, the squad's tech-expert, another soul who resented Beta's less than sterling achievements. Beta had worked hard to rebuild the trust between the three of them but that was hard when all three of them were well aware that a trusting Chaos Marine was soon a dead Chaos Marine.
Beta looked at his erstwhile cell-mates and said, "The pilots know what they are doing, we will soon have spoils aplenty."
Epsilon turned away with a snort of derision but Beta saw Delta looking distracted. He turned to face the wily warrior and called, "What do you see?"
Delta was staring into a pit of sensor readouts and said muttered, "Errant power spike, it's faint but moving fast."
Beta speculated, "One of the cogboys ships wasn't as dead as we supposed."
"No," Delta countered, "It's coming out of the deep void, this is something new."
"Don't you know already?" Epsilon sneered, "Why don't you summon a Daemon to peer into the future for you?"
Beta shot him a filthy glance; the others knew very well that Daemons were untrustworthy allies, ever ready to turn a bargain to their own advantage. Beta had taught his cell-mates to keep Chaos at arm's length, to use the Warp as they saw fit but never to depend upon it. Mutation and madness were the fate of those who dabbled too deeply, the Alpha Legion accepted only those gifts it could control and no more. Beta had told them that repeatedly, so Epsilon's jibe was nothing more than a goad.
The Sorcerer drew himself upright and declared, "I want active scans of that vector, paint the void red and find me a target."
Mutants scrambled to obey and a long moment passed and then Delta leapt up in alarm and cried, "Gods Below! It's an Astartes Battlebarge and it's on an attack run!"
"Accursed throne lapdogs," Beta snarled, "They can't have responded to a distress call so quickly, they must have been already looking for us."
"How did they get so damned close?" Epsilon spat.
Delta replied, "Their power readings are masked somehow, not as good as Reflex shields, but still brilliantly sneaky. Ident logs have a match: the Veiled Claw, a Revilers warship."
"Corax's gets," Beta snarled, "Damned XIXth Legion by-blows, they won't stop hounding us."
It was true, the successor Chapters of the Raven Guard had shown an annoying persistence in attacking Beta's cell. They seemed determined to track the Shadow down and take or destroy her. The Shadow had been their Primarch's flagship in the Great Crusade and they seemed to take it personally that the Alpha Legion had claimed her.
"Shall we withdraw?" Epsilon called out.
"Negative," Beta snarled, "We can't leave our troops on the surface."
"You're concerned for their well-being?" Delta asked suspiciously.
"Warp no," Beta replied, "We can't afford to lose those spoils. Worry not; the Revilers have just bitten off more than they can chew. Reload the guns and point us right at them."
The mutants scrambled to obey as Delta and Epsilon fell to their tasks. Whatever their differences this was war and they all knew a moment's hesitation could spell doom. Beta looked up into a Hololithic projection suspended over his head and saw the icon of the Battlebarge closing rapidly, with her weapon ports open. She was a powerful champion of void warfare, enough to give most pause, but the Shadow was Glorianna class, nothing could match her.
Ponderously the prow swung about and he saw the Revilers pick up speed as Delta cried, "They know we've seen them. They're trying to close into gun range!"
"Too slow little birds," Beta chuckled, "Give them a taste of the lances."
At his command searing columns of lethal laser energy stabbed out from the prow and spine of the Shadow, crossing the void to slam into the oncoming enemy. Void shields flared as the Battlebarge struggled to avoid damage but the defences were no match for the carnage sent against them. The shields popped in a heartbeat as several blasts gouged into her hull, tearing through her guts with ease.
On the bridge Beta grinned and he heard Epsilon say, "I know we favour grabbing every advantage we can get, but when you command firepower like this…"
"I know," Beta concurred, "The Shadow is an advantage all her own."
"Don't get too cocky," Delta suddenly cried, "They're launching Thunderhawks!"
Beta saw smaller icons spilling into the Hololith and swiftly cried, "Launch Swiftdeaths, task them to deny approach!"
Epsilon commented, "Against Thunderhawks our crew will take heavy losses."
But Beta snapped "They're replaceable but if the loyalist scum boards us we will lose everything. With our forces on the planet even a single company could gut the whole ship. Get the fighters into the void, then place us side on to the Battlebarge and ready a broadside."
The crew hastened to obey and Beta watched the clouds of strike craft engaging in the space between the two ships. Swirling darts of light and fire told a tale of crews dying in the void, becoming brief points of light but he cared nothing for their lives. The Battlebarge was also swinging abeam and the two leviathans were about to exchange broadsides. Beta wanted to fire immediately but he held his tongue until the vectors were just right and then called, "Fire everything!"
Space erupted with fireworks as the two battleships traded shots, macro cannons, turbolasers, plasma blasts and missiles filling the void with death. The bridge rocked under Beta's boots as the fusillade hammered at his ship's shields, yet despite the staggering power set against them the overlapping voids held true. In return the Shadow gave back twice as much punishment, the barrage overwhelming the Reviler's paltry efforts.
The Veiled Claw's already battered shields were no match for the onslaught and collapsed in seconds, letting the barrage strike her hull directly. Armour was incinerated and compartments blew wide open, spilling fuel and bodies into the void. Weapons were obliterated and shield projectors tore off as fires erupted deep within, racing through the bowels of the ship before the crew could seal them off. In one pass the Shadow ripped the Veiled Claw's flank to shreds, managing her entire port side and reducing the weapons in that arc to useless twists of shattered wreckage.
The two ships thrust away from each other, ponderously coming about as Delta called, "Enemy is bleeding power and debris, energy levels dropping sharply, they're crippled. The Veiled claw is not attempting to come about; they are running out their engines in a straight line and recalling their Thunderhawks. They seek to disengage."
"Shall we turn and finish them off?" Epsilon called.
Beta felt the rush of victory fill him and answered smugly, "No, let them scurry away."
"You're letting them live?" Delta spat in shock.
Beta leaned back, enjoying the power at his command and smiled as he said, "Do not forget the lessons of the Legion, there's always another angle to be played. This defeat will gnaw at the loyalist's pride and it will set their confidence back a notch. I'm tired of being hounded everywhere; I want them to back off. So we let them live and take a message back to the Imperial lapdogs."
"What message?" Epsilon asked.
Beta grinned as he declared, "That in the end, the Hydra always wins!"
