This story is an unofficial story based, without permission, on the Warhammer/Warhammer 40,000 intellectual property owned by Games Workshop Ltd.
The atmosphere within the Thunderhawk was warm and clammy. The sweat rolled from Captain Syakotus' face, under the moist and humid conditions, from the cockpit. He stood upright behind his two pilots, watching the metallic mass of the Inquisitor's frigate drifting limply on its side, growing closer. The whole mass of the frigate looked like a gigantic, ancient gothic cathedral, with a spear head leading its way.
"I can't see the docking bay, Captain," Gillis reported, checking his scanners whilst the lights flashed through the darkness of the cockpit, dashing his fingers across the control panel set before him under the low light.
"What's that there?" Syakotus said, pointing at their destination, bending forwards to take a closer look of the gothic looking structure they were fastly approaching. Gillis leaned forward.
"Ah, yes, I see it," he said, leaning back in his seat, flicking the switch releasing the landing legs. With a clang that echoed and a shudder of the whole craft, the crew wrenched forwards slightly. The legs came down ready for landing.
"One minute and counting Captain," Gillis said, beginning the landing procedure.
Korde, the company senior Sergeant, stepped in the cockpit doorway. Both his fists were crimson red and clenching his thunder hammer tightly in his grip.
"Have the men ready. I do not want any unwanted surprises," Syakotus said, gazing upon him.
"The first obstacle will be getting Tech-Marine Graus to the engine section. Wherever that should be."
"That should not be a problem, as long as I can interface with the internal systems," Tech Marine Graus said, stepping into the cockpit behind where Korde stood.
"Agreed. Hopefully our adversaries will not be too hostile. We will need to deal with them with utter swiftness. Our main priority will be finding Taharan." Syakotus paused momentarily to see the dark cathedral-look of the ever-closer frigate through the darkness.
"Look at the size of that thing," Graus said, looking at the strange gothic looking church positioned at the centre on top.
The Thunderhawk tilted forwards, giving the crew a second wrenching to their stomachs. Gillis started entering the Thunderhawk into the landing bay. This was lit up in a dull green light.
"Hold on to something. This is going to be rough," Gillis said.
The nose of the Thunderhawk tilted upwards before settling down and levelling on to the docking platform. With a sudden shudder their stomachs wrenched upwards with the change in the gravity.
"We're down, Captain," Gillis announced.
Syakotus fed a thick wire into the Storm Bolter latched to his left wrist. Flexing his fingers around the trigger on his palm, he then cocked it ready for immediate disperse.
"Lower the ramp. Squad Korde disembark," he ordered as the thrusters died down.
Once off the Thunderhawk, Korde looked around the large landing bay. The bay was high in height and very wide. The chrome floor was covered in blast holes and stained blood, as was that of the walls. Behind Korde stood Horton, followed by Linnex. Both were holding their bolters tightly. Frieh stepped forwards holding out his auspex.
"There is still life aboard. But whatever it is...it is weak," he said, looking into Korde's bare face.
Syakotus stepped off the ramp, followed by Graus.
"Gillis, remain with the Thunderhawk," he ordered. Flexing his bionic fingers, he walked through the doorway out of the landing bay, followed by Graus and squad Korde. Turning back to face his men, Syakotus said; "Let's find Inquisitor Taharan and get off this tin bucket."
Grailin stood at Apothecary Lenthos side, in the front cockpit of the Thunderhawk, now approaching the unnamed vessel. Jinn sat in the pilot's seat, steering the Thunderhawk into the side of the vessel.
"I sense a presence within this vessel," Grailin said.
Lenthos removed his clean, white helmet revealing his dark coloured skin, resting the helmet by the doorway. He brushed his crimson fingers through his black hair.
"Looks to me like a Reaver ship.
"I find that intriguing as I sense a psychic presence within it."
"Moving into dock, hold on," interrupted Jinn.
"Sergeant Redeka, have the scouts ready to disembark," Grailin ordered.
Once the Thunderhawk had latched on to the side of the unknown vessel, the side lasers cut a hole large enough for the Marines to step through. Sergeant Redeka was the first to step into the dark corridors, followed by the other four scouts. All were armed with shotguns, and once inside they cocked them ready for action.
The inside of the vessel was covered in curtains of bare flesh that had being stripped from others.
"Freaky," said Vedd, the scout stood in the lead. The five looked above them.
"AARRRGGG!" screeched the Reavers jumping down on to the scouts from the roof. Fully clad in the flesh of other dead humans, they attacked the scouts, armed with sharp blades and clubs.
Redeka jumped backwards, firing his bolt pistol into two of them. Vedd fell to the ground clenching his shotgun with both hands, whilst firing hot shells into those that came near him. From the hole the scouts came from, a psychic blast flew into four of the Reavers, incinerating them instantly. Sergeant Gevedin pounced from the hole into the Reavers. Armed with lightning claws on both hands, he sliced and diced his way through the diabolic looking creatures that were once human. Blood splattered across his armour, with him cutting into the Reavers. The rest of Gevedin's assault squad jumped through the hole, followed by Grailin.
The Reavers were clad in human flesh using them for clothes. Most of them had disfigured their faces with shards of metal and barbed wire. One of the Reavers grabbed Grailin's right arm and started to chew through the ceramite. Grailin looked down on the abomination.
"Be gone," he screeched.
With that the Reaver combusted into a ball of blood and guts. Lenthos reached his arm through the entrance hole, clenching his bolt pistol. He began to take careful aim at the Reavers, picking them off one by one. The noise within the dark and damp corridors became somewhat deafening from the constant sounds of gun fire. The air became very humid. Bullets ricocheted from the blood soaked walls. Grailin dropped to his knees, summoning his fear. The fear channelled its way through his brain, and then from his psychic hood and spread into the Reavers. The Marines managed to gain the upper hand, whilst the fear had stunned the Reavers.
"I pity that of the weak minded," Gevedin yelled, cutting into the last of the living Reavers.
Once the Marines had readied themselves they stood across the corridor.
"Split into groups and search this bucket for any more of these creatures."
Lenthos stepped up to Grailin.
"And what of you Grailin?" he asked.
Grailin looked into the eyes of Lenthos. "I must find this psychic presence."
"And what if you succeed?" asked Gevedin.
"I do not know," Grailin replied.
Hive World Terra