Of Xenos and War

by Snake Staff

Knowledge and Preparation

Alex Aisen let out a long sigh of relief as he flung his last boot off and simply collapsed onto the cot in front of him.
“Twenty. Two. Bloody. Hours,” he gritted his teeth at the thought even as he rested his sore, bruised head on the uncomfortable pillow. “Little xeno bitch. She hates me. I know it. She didn’t push the others half as hard.” But voicing such thoughts out loud wouldn’t be wise, particularly not when he had unceremoniously been jammed into a group quarters with Yilmaz, Durrane, and Titus. “Officers dumping the grunts into little cells while they get their own place. Some things never change.” Not that Aisen was in any particular position to complain about such behavior, having indulged in what small luxuries of power a PDF Sergeant could manage wherever and whenever possible.
Still, that certainly wasn’t going to keep him from complaining about it when the little purple devil wasn’t around.
“Why in the Emperor’s ballsacks does a little xeno slave driver get her own quarters when we’re crammed in here?” he managed, his intended inspirational anger somewhat muted by the fact that he was face down in his pillow.
“Because she is an Acolyte of the Holy Inquisition and we do not enjoy such a station. It is natural that rank carries privileges, even for an alien,” came the infuriatingly emotionless reply from Red Eye, or Durrane as his actual name went.
Aisen groaned. “If there’s anything almost as bad as the bloody xeno bitch, it’s that cold-blooded bastard! How can he be so bloody calm about all this? We’re humans! The Emperor’s own chosen! And some alien… cartoon… horse gets to order us around like slaves! It’s an outrage! A damned nightmare! And that bastard just acts like it’s no more important than crumbs on a jacket!”
“Stop your whinin’. I’m tryin’ ta get a bit a’ shut-eye.” Yilmaz’s deep, bass voice resounded throughout the squad quarters.
Aisen blindly groped around his small space for several seconds before his fingers closed around what he had been seeking. Raising a tiny metal flask, a pale shadow of the one he’d lost on the night he’d performed his blind charge, to his lips, Aisen took a long swig. The alcohol he’d “acquired” from a bondsman with an unhealthy gambling addiction flowed down his throat. It wasn’t very good, but it was something.
“Eh,” he managed after a long silence. “Shove it up your collective arse and smoke it, you alien backside-kissers.”
“You know she’s only trying to whip you into shape before our boss throws us back out there,” came the voice of that despicable xeno-lover, Titus.
“By killing us before the ‘crons can?” snorted Aisen. “Back in the hive, I heard tell that there’s kind of xeno that likes to take human slaves. Not to work, but just for the sport they get outa watching ‘em suffer and die in their arenas and dungeons. I think that our “good” Acolyte must be one of them.”
“She ain’t tryin’ to kill you, lad. That’s just the way she is. Believe it or not, you’ll find that she’s… actually pretty amiable most of the time,” Titus retorted from his bunk.
“I don’t believe it.”
“The thing you gotta realize about her is that she really hates the ‘crons. And I’m not talking like proper Imperial hatred for the heretic, neither. I mean she can get real fugging obsessive about hurtin’ ‘em. Somethin’ keeping her from dishing out pain on the metal bastards and she goes a bit crazy, starts getting’ real vicious on whatever’s between them and her. I’ve been with her for years, I know these things.”
“Yeah? And do I bloody look like I’m standin’ between them ‘crons and that purple daemon? They can have each other for all I care.”
“You ain’t gettin’ it. You lads,” there was a rustling sound from the direction of Titus’ bunk, Aisen presumed he was gesturing. “Aren’t exactly Imperial Stormtrooper quality.”
Aisen laughed harshly. “Well congratulations on figurin’ it out! Ya want a medal or something? Get to the point!”
“She can’t fight them herself. She’d get killed in seconds, minutes at best.”
“I’m not seeing the downside of that from here.”
“The Acolyte needs a team. And right now, that’s us. But you lot ain’t what she’s used to working with, and to her that’s an obstacle. You get it now?”
“What? She’s beating us because she’s an obsessive psycho in addition to being a xeno witch?”
“She’s pushin’ you so hard because she thinks you might let everything go to hell on mission one if she doesn’t. And she never wants anything to go anything less than perfect ‘gainst the Necrons. That’s the thing you ain’t getting’. She won’t let anything stop her from hurting them however she can, no matter what. That’s why she pulled the trigger. That’s why she’s drivin’ you all so hard. She normally ain’t the sort to be too stringent, but… she’ll never accept anything screwing her war with them. Don’t do that, and from what I seen she’ll treat you right. Do that, and… well, you saw what happened earlier.”
“Oh, great. Pleasant bloody dreams to you too.”

“This,” Twilight gestured at a woman standing behind her with her front right hoof. “Is Imperial Guardswoman Liah Nessi. This,” she gestured with her left to the man standing next to Nessi. “Is Planetary Defense Force Private Ener Di’Tal. I have taken the time to have a little talk with them and am assured that neither my species will not be a problem to their integration into this squad, nor will they be giving us trouble. Will there be any from your end?” she asked the four men in front of her.
“No!” came the unified and timely response.
Twilight smiled to see even the good Sergeant Aisen jumping to respond on que, though she frowned a little when she noticed his eyes lingering overlong on Nessi. “Better keep an eye on that,” she decided. “Just in case.”
Twilight beckoned. “Then what are we waiting for, soldiers? We have training to do!”

Trazyn the Infinite stared down from his command throne at the team of Deathmark assassins kneeling at his feet. “Is it finished? Are the Inquisition’s men slain?”
The leader of the elite squad and master sniper, Teritekh, raised his head from its bowed position. “Yes, my lord. The Stormtroopers suspected nothing until we struck. Not one did we leave alive.”
“Good. Very well done, honored warrior.” A lie, of course. Deathmarks were abhorrant to the old codes of martial honor that some of the Necrontyr still clung to. Not that Trazyn intended to be bound by such trivial nonsense. Particularly not when there were unique artifacts to preserve. “You may rise. I have another task for you.”
“What is your will?” asked Teritekh as he and his men regained their feet.
“Another squad of Inquisitorial Stormtroopers is attempting to scout out our positions in Quadrent X52981. Destroy it.”
“By your command.” The Deathmarks vanished quickly into one of their portals, returning to their pocket dimension until it came time to strike.
Once they were gone, Trazyn pressed a combination of buttons on his armrest, bringing a black-grey disk floating down from the ceiling. The machine presented itself to Trazyn. A handful of seconds later, an image appeared in its center. The uninformed would have suspected they were looking at a mirror.
“Honored Lychguard,” Trazyn said to the duplicate image. “Are my units in position?”
“Yes, my Overlord,” came the Lychgaurd’s reply, in Trazyn’s own voice. “All is in readiness. We merely await your signal.”
“The assault may begin as soon as scouts confirm the presence of the Deathwatch Space Marines.”
“As you wish,” said the subordinate wearing his master’s form.
“Remember, Lychguard, this must be convincing. The Deathwatch must believe that I lead this attack personally. Do not allow them to suspect otherwise. I do not want a single Imperial leaving that facility during this time. Keep them occupied until I signal you to withdraw.”
“It will be done, Overlord.”
“Good. I look forward to your successful return.” With that, Trazyn shut down the communications link with another few taps of his controls. Had he been able to smile any longer, he would have done so at that moment.
Instead, Trazyn the Infinite rose from his throne. Heavy thuds echoed through the gloom as he strode through his temporary headquarters – until a few days ago, an Adeptus Mechanicus facility deep in the polluted wastelands between the hive cities on Denton III. Nemesra Ehtekhra’s sources indicated that this place had had substantial ties to the Inquisition. Of course, the same data had placed it on a list of targets to be left alone for the time being, but such petty orders meant nothing compared to the chance to correct the mistake he’d been forced to make all those years ago and secure a priceless biological relic for eternal preservation in the Solemnance Galleries.
The Inquisition could not fail to investigate the base’s sudden silence. And with its other teams destroyed or occupied elsewhere…
Everything was in place, now he had just to wait until his quarry showed itself.
After all, it was simply a matter of time.