Posted on behalf of Jon
Nyssa Lystaryx grimaced as the darkness of the webway made way for the glaring brightness of realspace. Her newly regenerated eyes strained to adjust to the cursed sunlight as her craft made planet fall. The cloud cover below broke to reveal the blasted surface of Gilkan III, still covered with small brushfires and charred wreckage from the ork Waaagh that had devastated it cycles ago. Here she would find redemption for her failure at Teleron and regain a small amount of standing in Lady Melianna’s eyes.
Proximity runes flared all across the display, indicating life forms in every direction. Nyssa fine-tuned the equipment and designated the target for her raiding party, assisted by the data relayed to her force by the advance scouts. She transmitted the data to the accompanying craft at her command and gave the deployment orders. Small subtle whirrs and clicks sounded through the air around her as the raiding vehicles detached from the carrier craft and began descent, their grav-fields kicking in as they approached the solid ground.
Nyssa gave the well-practiced hand-signal and observed as her group of hand-picked wyches each administered their doses of adrenalight, their eyes narrowing as the chemical stimulant focused their bodies molecular composition into lethal energy. Off the bow, Nyssa could spot the accompanying Raider and Venom of the Last Hatred’s accompanying force, and felt pity for them that they did not indulge themselves in the Red Sorrow’s combat drugs. To kill without the enhanced rush of endorphins to intensify the sensation must feel so… paltry. She shuddered at the thought.
The targeting runes glowed brightly as the objective presented itself on the horizon. As planned, the raiding party had not yet gained attention, though that was to come to an end. Ahead, Nyssa’s enhanced eyes could make out the crude structures of the holding pens, blips of movement darting amongst it. The succubus shook her head in disgust as she laid eyes upon the crude structures of the greenskins. Though she admired the sheer brutality and dedication to a life of combat, she still could only feel cold disgust at the lesser race, crude by even the perspective of the child-men of the Imperium.
However they did still provide a thrilling challenge to cut down their massive numbers. The Kabal vehicles took the initiative, performing exactly as instructed. The blue-tinged Raider pulled ahead of the force, presenting a broadside and delivering a staggering amount of splinter-fire into the ork horde guarding the animal pens. Greenskin bodies fell over in droves, shrieking in agony as the splinter toxins infiltrated their bloodstreams and lit every pain receptor on fire. The Venom fell into formation to assist and succeeded in driving the remaining orks to flee from the encampment, shouting an alarm as they ran.
Reaver jetbikes shot by on the Nyssa’s opposite side, launching small arms fire at the small life-forms behind the holding pen walls. Noticing a large ork rise up from the structure, they changed their target and attempted to incapacitate a more glorious target. As the shots rang out, Nyssa was able to confirm the ork in the pen was in fact the Warlord himself. She smiled; no doubt he was here to observe his pets. This proximity would make the raid all the more effective.
A great bellow split the relative quiet as masses of ork reinforcements responded to the cries of the runaways. Small craft appeared almost instantly, bellowing great clouds of smoke as they tore into the strike zone. Nyssa afforded the greenskins a small amount of grudging respect, noting how they walked the path of a martial lifestyle so closely, that they could leap to battle with literally no hesitation. A blindingly bright warning rune illuminated her entire console, indicating a massive threat in close range. It presented itself in seconds to her flank, a smoking war engine towering at least 6 meters high and shaped as an effigy of its creators. It bristled with weapons and made no delay in filling the air with ear-shattering rounds of firepower. It discharged gouts of flame and ammunition, landing massive damage on the Kabal raider, sending the vehicle spinning at the ground and exploding. Through the fire, Nyssa could see a pair of surviving warriors crawl from the wreckage and attempt to crawl into cover and retreat from the brunt of the devastation the ork walker presented.
Nyssa gave a signal and her raiding craft charged forward, stopping just above the holding pens, the succubus jumped from the craft, landing perfectly on the blasted ground. Her Wych sisters followed suit and landed beside her. Above her, shots clanged off the hull of her Raider, one managing to score a hit through the hull, sparks and smoke streaking from the damage. The Kabal raider changed its bearing, swinging its mass to provide cover for the Wyches’ transport, and allowing its passengers to bring their splinter weapons to bear against the new wave of greenskins that were storming into the battlefield.
Beyond the walls of the pens, the succubus laid eyes upon a virtual horde of small deformed greenskins, bearing almost comical sized pistols. As she started to discount them as a threat, an Ork bearing a whip shouted a command in his crude language, that could only be interpreted as threatning, and the mass opened fire at the jetbikes overhead. A pair of the bikes exploded, and Nyssa could hear the repulsor lifts engage as the bikes retreated away from the blast zone. A roar of annoyance echoed through the pens and Nyssa realized that the ork warlord had just been denied a fight as the bikes streaked away.
As a group the wyches vaulted over the walls of the holding pens and began to lay waste to the small greenskins, cutting them down in a wave of splinter pistol fire and deadly knives. Nyssa herself felt the satisfaction of her glaive cutting through their taskmaster. Behind her, she could hear the explosions of battle as the Kabal Ravager expelled dark energy fire through its lances as it circled the massive ork walker in a pitched battle. The engine sounds of the Razorwing Soulthief broke the air, and seconds later were followed by its payload of monoscythe missles impacting on the ground.
Everything going to plan so far, Nyssa continued to cut down greenskins as she finally eyed the prize her Lady had dispatched her for. A strange two-legged vermin, that was more mouth than body, eyed her with animal intelligence in a special pen decorated with crude ork artifacts. It looked so insignificant, but Lady Melianna had assured her it was tactically important to her plans for Teleron.
Her attention to the vermin was suddenly diverted as the Ork warlord made his re-appearance, leaping dramatically through the air and plunging a huge rusty claw into the hull of Nyssa’s Raider. The vehicle exploded spectacularly, a massive fireball illuminating the holding pens and incinerating three of Nyssa’s wyches. She cursed, condemning the Ork for his transgressions, but privately thrilled to see the behemoth’s spectacular commitment to the destruction of the skimmer. Through the fire, she could see the greenskin getting back to his feet unscathed. Nyssa tapped her communicator and signaled the remaining Kabal raider to move to her position, as it swung overhead, its occupants providing fire support, Nyssa ordered her Wyches to hoist the growling, slobbering, pet creature onto the transport. The moment it was aboard, Nyssa gave the signal and the Raider took off, heading for the extraction zone. Sending signals across the field, Nyssa only had one more goal to accomplish.
She holstered her splinter pistol and gripped her glaive two-handed, and began a charge towards the Warlord. With a roar, he rose to meet her. With pre-natural speed, bolstered by the misery around her and the drugs in her system, Nyssa ducked beneath his weapons and scored multiple wounds across his body. Knowing that she had to leave him alive as per the Archon’s plans, she aimed only to incapacitate the titan. The greenskin hit the ground panting. Nyssa stood before him for moment, considering all the scars etched across his skin, and imagining the fights which must have put them there. Flanked by her surviving sisters and illuminated by the fires of the smoldering transport, she tapped the rune to activate her translator. Her words poured out from the crystalline speaker, translated into the crudest of languages.
“We got yo’ pet and whatnot ya green pansy. We’s gonna keep it too and takes all of your teef. Wot yu gonna do about its?”
Shutting off the communicator, Nyssa gave the word to her fellow Wyches that it was time to depart. They leapt wall back out of the pen and began to run across the remnants of the battlefield. Nyssa marveled at the decimated ork forces and the smoking crater that had once been the massive ork walker.
Behind her in the distance, some large greenskins gave chase, climbing over the wreckage of the Reavers’ jetbikes. They fired over her shoulder, but were unable to close the distance between her and her fleet-footed sisters. After clearing the field, her group was able to meet some of the emergency transports and bring the group to the carrier craft.
Standing on the bridge and observing her prize in its holding cage, Nyssa allowed herself to feel satisfaction. She approached the pilot at his station. “Remember to keep the speed down, they have to be able to see us to pursue all the way to Delteron”.
In her mind, Nyssa permitted herself to imagine the chaos of greenskin bodies clashing with the green armored bodies of the warriors who had shamed her.
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