03 I'll Take That

Lelith of the Savage Blade Kabal bathed in the rising sun. Deciding to soak up the last few days of warmth before the sun was finally snuffed out by the abomination waiting below the planet's surface. Already she could feel it prickling at the edges of her mind, testing her. She'd chastised herself as a fool for allowing herself to fall in the trap set by the Dread Lord Dicinel. It had been only a month before when she had returned to the Kabal broken and ashamed and more importantly in failure. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She'd been almost ecstatic when after making her failure known, she learned that not only was she not to be sent to the Haemonculi, she was also to be given a chance to redeem herself.

"I would have thrown myself into Rakarth's pits if I'd known what was to be done with me," she thought and then as an afterthought, "Perhaps not but I could have at least tried to take that deceitful bitch with me." Lelith had been mulling over her betrayal and try as she might, she could think of no way out of her former master's trap. The transponder she'd taken with her wasn't broken but there was no one answering on the other end. It appeared that the crew of the ship had been privy to her punishment.

It did however make sense that she would be condemned to this fate and she mentally kicked herself for being a fool enough to be so blind as to not see this raid for what it was. Lord Dicinel was the leader of a Kabal, she had seers in her circle of influence who could forsee events such as this. And what worse punishment could there be than to lose your soul to a daemon? she mused while watching as a sinister overcast seemed to form from nothing overhead.

"This soul is mine! You shall not have it! Never! Never! I will tear this bastard of a world to pieces with these hands! I will spit in the face of that bitch you call your mother and claw her heart out! You cannot have me! You will never have me!" Her sudden outburst at the daemon had surprised even her, though she doubted it had heard her. Again she chastised herself, this was no time to draw attention to herself.

As if in response to her declaration to the powers that be a single ship roared through the murky skies making a pass of the above her and accelerating towards the crop fields she had just fled from. Sensing an opportunity she doubled back splinter rifle in hand to the fields and just maybe an a means of escape.

Several minutes later Lelith halted at the crest of a hill about 20 yards from the shuttle, crouched down behind a thorny yellow and blue plant that seemed to be leaking fluids from the stems. Not to be discouraged by some foul smelling plant she slowly inched her way forwards to get a better view of the shuttle and more importantly who was in it.

The shuttle which was to Lelith's eye 59 ft in length and perhaps another 40 in width was very obviously an Imperial design. Two Mon'Keigh were standing just outside of the transport. The first was just a massive lump of muscle, and probably accompanying the other for that reason. He was clad in ornate power armor but he, or maybe she upon further scrutiny, was no space marine. Polished to a mirror shine the silver paint job was almost completely obscured by hundreds of scrolls magnetically locked onto the armor. Upon further scrutiny she did finally decide that the armored figure was indeed a female, which for a reason that she couldn't place disconcerted her. She stood at almost seven feet tall and wielded a large hand gun the likes of which were similar to the weapons she'd seen the thrice cursed space marines wield. The second was a stick of a man who wielded a chain sword in his right hand and a short stub nosed pistol in his left. A full foot shorter than his companion but still seemed to be in charge. From his waist down he was dressed in olive drab fatigues with a black skintight shirt that revealed muscles as toned as her own.

She'd have to kill them both, and take whoever was piloting the ship hostage to off planet. A simple plan but one with too many risks for her liking. First off there was no guarantee that one of the Mon'keigh below wasn't the pilot. Second even if she were to secure the transport she had no idea where'd she go. She certainly couldn't board an imperial starship.

Normally the thought of having to use such a ship, if it could be called that, was revolting in the extreme. Clumsy and with no thought to esthetics , the Imperial ship she dimly remembered Mon'Keigh called a storm bird was at that moment more beautiful than the family heirloom that had been given as a gift to her by her mother. And subsequently lost several years later. It was a bitter memory, and ultimately the cause of her falling out of the Wych's Convent.

"Another time, another life." She spoke quietly to herself. Apparently not quiet enough for no sooner had the words left her mouth than the armored woman jerked her head in her direction swiftly followed by a tide of bolter rounds. With reflexes toned from centuries of warfare she, leapt out of the way of the oncoming rounds and in the process unloaded her splinter rifle into her attacker. Dozens of barbs simply ricocheted off of her armor, at least one of which hit the man in the side, but a few found their mark, straight through the bitches throat.

Making good on her progress thus far she sprinted down the hill and sighted in on the man, still reeling from the wound in his side. The soft whine of the rifle as her finger pressed against the trigger told her she'd expended her ammunition and have to finish this up close and personal. Normally Lelith would have reveled in the thought of closing with an enemy and finishing it off at her leisure, but this was not the time to take unnecessary risks. Within a heartbeat she'd closed within striking distance of the man and jabbed her splinter rifle towards his neck but had it deflected by the now revved up chain sword. With her guard momentarily open he brought up the pistol and shot off a round which she only barely managed to dodge leaving her momentarily off balance. Sensing an opportunity to end the fight in a single blow, the human brought his chain sword down in a vicious vertical slash that left a savage cut from her shoulder down to her the bottom of her rib cage. Bright red blood flowed out of her horrible wound, but it did not kill her. Screaming a hateful curse at the animal she fought through the pain and with a forward jab impaled him on her rifle. The fight had only lasted about twenty seconds.

"My Lord? Inell? What the hells going on out there?" Cried a voice from inside the Stormbird. Upon hearing the words of the unknown human inside she quickly pried the pistol from her dead opponents hands and trained it on the the man as he came out. "Oh Emperor, fuck me", said the man when he emerged and laid eyes upon the carnage in front of him. She began to speak in the humans' tongue but was cut off as the man reached for his sidearm and leveled it at her in the time it had taken her to pull the trigger and blow his head off.

Wearily, Lelith climbed aboard the ship. The man whom she'd shot dead had proved to be the transports pilot and without him her chances of escape were dwindling. The blood loss from the wound had slowed but it was still seeping out of her. Almost completely sapped of strength Lelith made her way to the cockpit and upon entering fell into the seat and passed out.