This story is an unofficial story based, without permission, on the Warhammer/Warhammer 40,000 intellectual property owned by Games Workshop Ltd.
The Imperial Star frigate slid through the black of space, its only companion the silent world of Proticou far below.
Captain Larson was standing at the forward view port, gazing out at the sleeping planet, when Lieutenant Phorpe arrived on the bridge.
"Report from engine crew," he said briskly. "All damage from that marauder attack has been repaired. The ship is back to full fighting readiness."
"Thank you Lieutenant," Captain Larson said carefully, hiding a smile; "Inform the Inquisitor," the Captain added.
Larson returned his gaze back to the view port, looking down on the planet Proticou.
The bridge was somewhat quiet except for the sounds of the bleeping consoles, being monitored by the crew members. Darkness shadowed out most of the bridge except that of the metallic floor, lit up by a low blue light. The bridge doors were guarded by two Storm Troopers, attired in dark green uniforms, clenching their hell-guns tightly, and standing motionlessly with expressionless faces, yet poised ready for sudden attack.
Moments later, the darkness of the bridge was lit up from the opening door. Inquisitor Lord Taharan of the Ordo Hereticus entered the bridge, dressed like something from the Middle Ages. His hair was long and scraggly, yet his face was that of a man in his mid fifties. His chin bore a string of scars, as if some sort of creature had clawed at his face; probably a Genestealer. Just below his neck was the Inquisitors "I" symbol.
He was attired in a long grey leather trench coat, drooping down to his black pointed boats. Holstered on his belt, his own crafted las-pistol, coloured mostly in gold.
"Ah, Inquisitor, we have arrived at Proticou. As well as that we have managed to repair all damage done in that last raid," explained Larson.
"Good," Inquisitor Taharan replied.
A sudden beeping from crewman Salinas' console drew their attention.
"Report," Larson ordered.
"We have a vessel approaching. From the surface of Proticou, sir," she said.
Not having the knowledge of this system like that of Taharan, Captain Larson looked to him for some guidance.
"Inquisitor?" he asked.
The Inquisitor looked across the chiming console for himself, with a most disgruntled look dressed upon his face.
"Inquisitor?" Larson asked again.
"She is reading hostile, Captain." Salina interrupted the silence.
"Ready the forward guns," Larson ordered to his crew, stepping closer to the view port for a look.
"I do not understand. I was told the planet was devoid of life. Could be a Reaver Ship," Taharan mumbled.
Larson watched the approaching vessel quickly move closer.
"She probably is. I do not recognise the markings from that vessel," Larson added.
"What?" asked Lieutenant Phorpe.
"Forgive me, Lieutenant. I forget that you haven't my experience of space travel. Reavers are the worst kind of pirate you will ever hear of."
"Why is that Captain?" Phorpe asked, with a most concerned look pressed upon his young face.
"Reavers were once like us - the Imperium's finest naval patrol ships."
"So they are like us. That should be an easy fight," Phorpe interrupted.
"How naïve of you. No, they are not like us, they are men gone mad. Some say it is because they have spent too long in the furthest reaches of deep space. Others say it is because they have travelled through the Eye of Terror and returned warped. Whatever the reason, they are no longer human nor are they animal. They disfigure themselves and feed off our flesh when they can. And if we are lucky they will only rape us while the feast upon us. They will do this while we still breathe, Lieutenant."
"Have you ever seen one, Captain?"
"If I had I would not be standing here."
Inquisitor Taharan bleeped his hand comm. "Sister Periar..."
"Inquisitor."
"Prepare for battle."
"I do not understand, Inquisitor, why not just shoot them from the sky," Lieutenant Phorpe asked, whilst stroking his long moustache.
Taharan looked across the bridge at Phorpe. Then, choosing to ignore him, he looked across at Captain Larson.
"Have your Storm Troopers ready for uninvited guests."
Without even acknowledging him Larson flipped the comm at Selinas console; "Sergeant Griegg, ready the men for invaders."
Sergeant Griegg was a tall man, attired in full Storm Trooper armour, clenching his bolter tightly in his grasp with both hands. Behind him were another twenty soldiers, all armed with hell guns and crouched down on one knee. All waiting for the impact of the intruders. The corridor glowed red, hiding most of their features. Opposite the Guardsmen was Sister Periar, armed with two bolt pistols. Her white hair glowed red, reflecting off the bulkheads at her side. Behind her were another five Sisters of Battle armed with bolters and, like the Guardsmen, they crouched on one knee. A loud screech echoed throughout the corridors. Suddenly, and without warning, the corridors side exploded in a ball of fire, throwing chunks of metal in all directions, forcing it to bounce from the walls into the Guardsmen.
Griegg staggered to his feet, clenching his bolter tightly, looking up at the blast hole to see their invaders with his eyes almost bulging.
"Mother of god," he whispered to himself.
Larson glanced up from the sudden speed of the Marauder. It collided head-on into the Frigates side, violently rocking the whole crew, and forcing all on the bridge to the floor.
A couple of minutes later, Lieutenant Phorpe was the first to his feet, flicking his finger across his console.
"Report Lieutenant?" bellowed Larson, regaining his balance.
"Whatever has just boarded us will be outside the bridge doors about...Now."
The Bridge doors opened. The two Storm Troopers that guarded the doorway clenched their guns and fired. Two las blasts flew into their heads, killing both instantly.
Larson reached for his side arm, but wasn't quick enough. A bullet flew through his shoulder, rendering him almost unconscious Taharan reached for his golden side arm in time to see Salina shoot her las-pistol at the first figure to enter the bridge. Whatever it was fell to the ground screaming with laughter.
"Reavers!" he bellowed.
Six of them stormed the bridge, screeching with a terrible inhuman sound. The darkness from the shadows of the bridge hid their most disfigured look.
Phorpe dropped to his knees and began crawling behind one of the consoles to hide. Or at least attempt to.
Taharan glanced back at the bridge doorway. A tall figure of a man covered in a black cloak entered. His face was covered by his hood, except his mouth. Taharan's eyes widened, watching the stranger move closer towards him, with his hood slowly falling back from every motion revealing his face.
"Salvanfor," Taharan screeched loudly, as if the stars would answer his cry for help.
Hive World Terra