The Void Scorn(40K)

The purplish haze of the hangar rushed into the drop bay. It caused Ivex to shiver. He felt the malign presence of the unborn and the damned. Such was the Talons' nature.

"Brothers, steady yourselves" he worded, speaking each one as though they were his last.

"Inshavit Dyltha" he whispered.

"Inssshavit Dyltha" Finnik replied the mist licking at his bonding studs.

"Inshavit Dyltha, may we do our justice" Tyllalb spoke like a hammer on an anvil. Still hefting his heavy weapon.

6 Marines stared from beyond the ramp. Purple and black hazard stripes dotted their slowly melting armour. Each was a mess of marks, the aquilas long since scarred and flesh ridden to the point of the sublime.

The foremost, with an ironclad helmet, several spines sticking out from his boots and pauldrons, step forth. The symbol of an eagle's talon gripping a cog glaringly shown, the other pauldron contained the symbol of the prince itself.

"It has been a while since you broached the world of pleasure Void Scorn" He said in a hideously beautiful voice.

"The chosen is meeting with his associates, you are expected" The beautiful voice twisted slightly, becoming warped and deeper.

Finnik walked forward, covering Ivex slightly with his body. Zhouggath followed suit with his retinue.

"lead on"

Osatar grunted, thank the Omnissaiah she still had servitors to work this task. She admits that the task is important but the thought of touching and operating upon flesh, makes what is left of her skin crawl. Her cogitator started to click as she watched the medical servitors begin their work.

"Batch 260 commencing, medical servitors have begun implantation of astartes geneseed" Her robotic voice whined slightly as she spoke.

"geneseed stock left is low, recommendation for apothecary attendance impossible. No aspirant has survived the implantation process completely. Progress and refinement of surgery ongoing. Approximate chance of successful astartes creation now 1 in 100,000 for Arbito-" she caught herself.

"Void Scorn geneseed"

She touched at the side of her cheek, the skin long becoming cold and hard. Her auditory mechanism recalibrating.

"Few geneseed remains, harvested from KIA members of Cnathre squad. This Development also fixes issue of availability of astartes armour" She stopped, watching as the small, frail being on the table began to twitch as saw met flesh then bone, causing a squeaking. Looking again to the recording device.

"All results are to be reported to Ivex, experimentation still in phase 2, failure will no longer be tolerated, Tech priest Osatar. Conclusion."

Norma, took in her stride, manually puffing air in and out of her lungs as she plodded through blue hallways and gangways. She touched the console to heavy blast doors, allowing them to open. The bridge windows were closed. She shuddered away from them, the purple mist looming beyond. Ghostly bridge crew hobbled about, each screen's light being swallowed by it's dark blue surroundings, like the bottom of a deep ocean. A large throne lay at the back, draped in azur crystal, serenaded by two weeping figures. She approached Xanac slowly, her new uniform beginning to chafe. She kneeled, her dirty ponytail falling to her side.

"You took your time Vice Captain" he said, turning, his bionic arm held behind his back.

"Im surprised they found you a uniform"

She stayed silent, both pupils fixed upon the two giants, in place behind the empty throne.

"you are to keep your personnel in check, though I loath those without discipline your people are required. I assign you to the mid decks, many of your crew are to be helpful with the Tech priest's work"

"Of course captain" Norma stated

"this place is without fairness" Tyllalb spat, the vox crackling, as they passed room upon room, covered in tendrils and snaking vines.

"I would happily oblige to burn this place to the ground Ivex" Finnik spat.

Ivex stayed silent as they tempted him. The rooms began to become more eccentric as the group marched further into the station. Mechanical cogs and eyes, vibrating and filling with fluid. Xenos food and vials filled with oozing liquid, scattered upon gilded tables. Mist being inhaled and exhaled. Beings of tendril and claw gyrating upon large, incomprehensible stringed instruments, as men and women alike bled from the ears, begging for more. A room larger than the rest caught his eye. A legionnaire, sat in the middle, surrounded by the damned, contorting and teasing the thing as it gripped and danced, palatine sword now in hand.

He averted his eyes.

"One day brothers"

Small, ornate, curtain like openings, revealed the chamber at the centre of the malign paradise. Purple and gold, silver and marble. Dotted with tendrils and flesh. Ivex gave a small nod, Zhouggath responded by halting his squad and pulling to the back of the chamber. Other astartes crowded in the exquisite war room. Ivex grunted in a high pitched annoyance. Talons were present, striking in the purple-black hazard stripes, cogs and servos. Other colours dotted the space around the central console, and a single ruby red carpet. Cyans and greens, garish reds and golds. Crowded in the back several wore striking purple flames amongst their cream armour. Pushed to the back by Talons and others of the legion.

"Zhouggath, be ready" Ivex barked, while Night Reaver crackled with loosening energy, the machine spirit beginning to thirst. The room quietened each legionnaire turned to the red carpet, lighting up in a soporific display. A large mound of steel and crystal made the formations of 2 thrones, a larger one, the symbol of an eagle striking a marble at it's height. And a smaller one beside it. The talon holding a cog. The astartes sitting in the smaller throne was a purple hulk of servos and mechanics. His armour, tainted with metal pipes and wires.

"Void Scorn" The chemosian voice whispered. A beautiful tone of a diplomat or aristocrat, uttered through millennia tainted MK 3 Vox grills.

"We have not had the pleasure of your presence in... several cycles, you have caught us at a… perfect time" The sentence was almost painful to Ivex's ears, slow, too slow.

"We only wish the repairing of our vessel, chosen" Ivex retorted back, keeping his left hand on his bolt pistol, the other firmly clenched.

"Tell me Ivex" The chosen uttered

"you bring many guards with you… even making one lug what you consider a relic about" he gave a chuckle, quick and brief.

"we are here for repairs to The Indomitable, not to entertain your vanity" Ivex worded, standing his ground.

"And what have you to offer, for this. Greatest of favours?"

"we have recently captured a torpedo destroyer and we offer it and its crew in return"

"a most fulfilling offer" the being said, the ancient battle plate muffling his words.

"But…" he said, Ivex could feel the chosen smile behind the iron grill.

"I wish for you to aid us in our next conquest" the voice rippled, Ivex noticed two garmented legionaries next to the throne begin to laugh behind their helmets, making him grimace.

"Your warband's impressive speciality is...useful indeed"

"I must object Chosen, I will not risk the few warriors I have"

Ivex stealed a look at Finnik, already gripping his eviscerator, Ivex could only imagine how impatient Zhouggath was becoming.

"oh im sure you will come around Ivex" the chosen said, at once the numerous legionnairs in the room turned to Ivex and the 2 Yaczharri. Each raising their own armaments, howling boltguns, excessive power swords and darkened bolt pistols.

"I might even reward you for your efforts… thinblood" his voice becoming venomous

Ivex took a breath, visual array within his helmet, following his eyes darting over his view.

"I have voxed Iazhec and The Indomitable, the decision on their fate is yours"

The gruff voice of Tyllalb was a reassuring note on the vox, he knew the relic to be lifted, and the eviscerator about to be revved.

"We shall do it" Ivex spoke, relieving the tension, despite the wry smiles planted across the chamber.

"how easy you are to mould Ivex, im sure the prince will welcome you once you fall" another chuckle, the feeling of a deathly smile, his head tilted to one side, propped on a gauntleted hand, Hate began to froth from the locked chest at the back of Ivex's mind.

"You will receive your justice one day fallen one, whether that be by others, or by the lick of my claws"

"oh how thoughtful of you thin blood, you treat us so unfairly, do you not see our sacred humanity? How that taints your precious justice"

"you are right, I do see humans in this misshapen chamber of war... but I see no humanity"

Khatal pawed at his eye lenses as they rubbed against his skin, he sought refuge behind the chosen's throne, observing the scuffle happening within the war chamber. He coughed, the soft wine of his jump pack, etched finely into his lungs, making the turbines whir in response. He kept himself low, observing the thin bloods as they bickered with the chosen. The one upfront caught his eye, his black beaked helmet patched on one side. Khatal stared firmly, the thin blood's right fist, four gleaming blades shuddered. Various red runes glowed from their housing on the thin blood's fist, 2 rows, the first in a language Khatal read easily, the second unknown to him. He read the first row, his long tongue, gripping at his chiseled teeth. Ashilla dasovalia, Ashilla vasha solruthis valas, Vashian Vylas, Vor Shol Ivalastia.

The Yaczharri steadied themselves, turning to leave quickly, Tyllalb stopped, spotting Ivex peeking over his shoulder.

"What is it Ivex?"

It was gaunt, malformed, weirdly out of place in the space next to the thrones. Astartes maybe once, now a hideous malformation, it's armour painted purple save for one pauldron, a cobalt blue, the symbol of a winged skull stared deftly forward.

"Nothing"