Calixis Sector, Mandeville Point.
Oil-slick colors blood in the void as two starships tore through the Veil, their unholy wakes mingling with the flare of thrusters before gradually fading into the dark.
As the vox-systems droned their arrival, armored shutters retracted from the viewports, revealing the cold, silent reality of the Materium.
Enkidu stood fully armored beside Telax, with the other mbers of the warband gathered behind them. Varex had made a rare departure from his banquets to stand upon the high dais, delivering a feverish, ecstatic oration.
A few Noise Marines idly strumd their chords, letting the sonic roar drown out the Warband Leader's speech. Enkidu ignored the noise, activating his helt's internal display to browse the data-entries for the Calixis Sector.
The information was years out of date, but it would have to do.
Four minutes later, Varex concluded his speech amidst a chorus of jeers and officially declared the comncent of the operation. The target: a massive rchant vessel discovered by chance, currently besieged by Drukhari raiders.
The boarding torpedoes deployed, revealing gri-stained harnesses.
"Aeldari," Telax whispered into the dark shriek of the launch. Across from him, Enkidu could easily see the veteran's cruel smile and jagged teeth through his partially raised visor. "A gift from the heavens. I shall offer them all to the Dark Prince."
"Ah, the pointy-ears," Enkidu replied with lukewarm interest. "Personally, I'm more interested in the supplies than the xenos. We still need to eat and breathe, after all."
Telax glanced at him, though his gaze held no reproach.
"You are young; you do not yet grasp how precious those souls are to the Thirsty One. But you are right—we need resources. Let Varex's lapdogs indulge in their 'entertainnt.' We shall move quickly to secure captives and materiel."
"Then give the word, Lord Telax."
The Chaos veteran looked at Enkidu with approval, satisfied once again with his choice of protégé.
Excellent, disciplined, and knows his place. More importantly, Telax had yet to see the spark of treacherous ambition in Enkidu's eyes.
"Once we are aboard, we split up. I shall lead Virsuto and Armand to seize the bridge. You will take Truen and Varangis to the shrine of the False Emperor. If we control the high-value targets there, we control the ship's leverage."
Telax issued the command with cold finality.
Hiss.
A stream of splinter-rounds peppered the air. The Astartes simply tilted his fra, letting the toxic shards shatter harmlessly against his reinforced pauldron. He accelerated, and amidst a chorus of frantic shrieks, the xenos were torn to bloody scraps.
Blood dripped rhythmically from his ceramite plates. Enkidu perford a flourish with his blade, remaining in a focused guard.
Silver laughter echoed through the corridor—now to his left, now to his right, now scurrying along the ceiling. He raised his Charnabal Sabre, his eyes fixed on the boundary where light t shadow. Several figures unfurled from the dark.
Mon-keigh blades t Drukhari steel, reflecting iridescent flickers of light.
Enkidu tilted his blade at a precise angle, catching the enemy's weapon in his crossguard. Before the xenos could disengage, he reached out and accurately crushed the neck of another charging raider.
The light, mocking laughter continued, blending seamlessly into the cacophony of sonic music and distant screams. He dropped the limp corpse without expression and spun for a back-cleave.
A dark blade-flash flickered from a corner—light as a feather, fast as lightning. It drifted like smoke toward the joint of his power pack and neck seal, only to be intercepted by a second blade a fraction of a second before impact.
"Exquisite," remarked the xenos clad in a black bodysuit, his nearly pupil-less eyes beginning to shimr. "Bring him to Commorragh. He will be quite popular."
"Agreed."
The answer ca from above. Enkidu ducked low as a razor-flail embedded with a thousand micro-blades whistled over his head. A red-haired beauty in revealing armor giggled, retracting her weapon to lash out again.
Wych.
The thought flashed through his mind as Enkidu drew his second blade, severing the flail before it could wrap around his waist. The red-haired Wych grunted, dropping like a teor. Crystalline spikes grew from her gauntlets, aid directly at the hunter's neck. Simultaneously, the male warrior lunged low in an upward thrust.
Clang!
Following a frantic dance of four weapons, a flurry of "crystalline shards" filled the air like macabre confetti. Enkidu closed his eyes, mapping the movent trajectories of the two Wyches in his mind.
The male was the anchor, providing frontal pressure to draw focus. The female was the kinetic elent, using her lithe fra to bounce off walls and ceilings at blinding speed, rarely touching the ground.
Data scrolled across his HUD, but it felt like a distraction to his instincts.
Half a minute later, he seized a fleeting opening and threw himself backward, while simultaneously delivering a forceful shove to the back of the female Wych as she lunged.
The red-haired xenos was propelled forward like a projectile, impaling herself directly on the male warrior's blades. Enkidu seized the mont, his sabre sweeping out to decapitate the survivor.
The xenos remains thudded to the deck. After scanning for further hostiles, Enkidu opened his internal vox.
"Truen, Varangis. Report."
"Xenos cleared."
"Good. Rendezvous at the designated point. We proceed to the Sanctuary."
He began to run. The surroundings blurred into a landscape of screaming tal and retreating shadows. Occasionally, sothing stood in his way, but only for a mont. He didn't even feel the need to swing his blade; he simply watched them shatter as he plowed through.
Blood-stained iron boots stepped into the Sanctuary, disturbing the floating mists. The specially formulated narcotics attempted to coil around him, but they failed against the efficiency of his suit's filtration systems.
"Look what has arrived," a Drukhari Archon said mockingly, though his expression soured the mont he realized the intruder belonged to a Slaaneshi warband. "Hounds of the Thirsty Lady."
"Regardless, a hound is better than a snack."
The xenos before him wore ornate, high-status armor—a "big fish." Whether taken alive or dead, he was a prize of imnse value. Enkidu wasted no more breath and launched his assault.
"Varangis, move those mortals out of the way. Truen, hold the door."
"Received." / "By your command."
When psychic might and master-level swordsmanship were applied in unison, a lone Drukhari stood no chance. Within two minutes, Marazhai, now reduced to a "stump" of a warrior, lay none-too-peacefully beside the unconscious mortals.
Enkidu looked down. Faint vibrations traveled through the floor into his armor. The mortals were still alive, rely stunned. Based on their attire, they were people of significant rank.
His gaze drifted to the third eye on the brow of the pale-haired girl. He allowed a thin smile to cross his face.
It seed they had caught so very big fish indeed—both human and xenos.
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