Hello Heresy, this is just started working on, had some fun with it. I'll probably add more to it, see how it goes
The Golden Sigil
Khaine’s hell forged hand never looked so ornate, leaking droplets of golden blood and surrounded with an intricate sphere of runes. Asauinn acknowledged that none of the blue-skinned aliens recognized the ancient heraldry of the Ilyandritch Corsairs, all luminous sapphires, silvers, and gold manifesting in warrior forms and bringing death. Tau never did believe in Gods, they put their faith in their own technological prowess and brotherhoods. The way they sank their hooves into the ruined streets of Kuo’no Minor was surprisingly admirable.
Young aliens equipped in sturdy, sleek armor came charging through the last barrages from the vibro-cannon batteries. Their sky blue armor couldn’t save them from the unstable warp energies that tore them asunder. Yet more continued to come into the teeth of the one hundred Ilyandritch Corsairs – Midonas’ Shrine of the Canyon of Shards. Razor sharp laser trails from the shuriken catapults intermingled with the heavier discharges from the Tau’s pulse rifles.
Midonas’ inspiring voice braces the corsair’s spirits. “Hold firm and receive the charge! Scythe them down!”
Warriors of Fire. Her visor picks out a dozen bright shapes charging through a landslide of debris. Only meters away from the smoking wreck of a falcon Asauinn hid within. The steep slope manages to keep them at bay. She sucks in a long breath, then rises up from the cover of the Falcon. The first two kills are taken without effort, the others fall to ground and begin to fight back. blue laser fire punches through Isalla’s neck guard like a knife through fabric. Isalla collapses into her, clutching at the cauterized wound in her throat. Asauinn instinctively shoves her comrade’s writhing body off of her, forgetting the guilt in the heat of conflict.
The distinctive shrill scream of the shadow weaver wails over the battlefield again, trying to swat the fire warriors who move through the shadows like elegant primitives. Dozens are minced in the span of an eye blink, the others that stand look more determined to slay their foes than ever before. One of them is laughing maniacally, dispatching a reckless Eldar Pirate attempting to cut off his head. She’s scowling at the little alien, raising her catapult for a precise kill…
The Warlocks immediately begin screaming the order to fall back. The concentration is broken and her prey scurries off to the safety of his brothers. Sapphire bolts rain down on the Falcon blindly, trying to find a mark on her. Midonas’ Corsairs nearly break cover all at once despite the spike in Tau firepower. She stifles a cry of dismay to see her brethren abandon the fight, enemy drones swoop and gun down the stragglers.
“Asauinn! Fall back! Get out of there!” Yriel’s voice cut through the den of battle into her mind. The touch of his thoughts on her own cause her to look up into the star lit night. Armadas are dancing up there in space, a delightful fireworks show if one could forget all the death. It’s so beautiful, Asauinn doesn’t notice the falling stars until the last moment. Picking Isalla’s soul stone free of her still form, she darts out of the falcon the moment the fire warriors begin surrounding it from a distance.
Pulse fire cuts grazing burns through her mesh armor and flesh, but no shot is true enough to bring her down. The Tau smart missiles fall upon designated zones without warning. Massive dome buildings come crashing down, exploding in a deafening cacophony of noise that makes the earth tremble. They begin far off initially, but each wave of destruction comes closer and closer with each renewal. Not all of the Marauding Eldar could survive the Tau’s wrathful attack. The war-walkers covering the escape were swept aside in a single volley. Dozens of the Canyon of the Shards vanished in pulses of blinding light, their screams drowned out by roaring shockwaves.
The rate of fire from the Tau infantry doubled, followed by the superheated rail cannon blasts. Asauinn’s catapult is unloading while she moves in between the rubble heaps. Fire warriors emerging from the shadows attempt to intercept her and gun her down. She primes and throws a plasma grenade through a large window, the explosion vomits out blue blood and gore. The survivors respond by blinding her with their own grenades. Something punches through the small of her back, exiting just below the ribcage. A fresh lance of agony spears through the inside of the wound. She can’t repress the scream, losing her balance, collapsing deep into a blackened crater. Gods, to die on this godless planet…
An unbearable shrieking from overhead, multiplying three fold by the time it approaches, makes the Tau retreat back into their defensive holds. Crimson and violet streaks of energy stain the skies, the kabalite warriors of the Strife that Bleeds leap from their Raiders by the dozen. Rail cannons and effective sky-drones cleave a path through their fragile grave vehicles, but far more enter and leave the combat zone unscathed. Pale skinned warriors drabbed in all manner of barbs and blades scream horrible war cries, lighting up the Tau with heavy weapons of dark energy.
Asauinn’s lips move in silent prayer, an apology to Keala-Mensha Khaine for looking so pathetic. The pain is held back, she manages to crawl her way to the lip of the trench. A Dark Kin waltzing through the warzone only feet away from her makes her turn cold and stop. The plume coming through the top of his helmet is a pure silver, a sharp contrast with the violet and burning crimson highlights on his armor. An aura blacker than space flickers in and out of existence around him, deflecting anything from laser fire to marker led missiles. Everything that exploded or detonated did so outwards, bringing no harm to him even as his own guards were meticulously destroyed.
“Enjoying yourself down there, Ilyandrite?” Speakers in her helmet picked up a female’s soothing voice, distracting her long enough for a boot to stamp down on her hand. She clumsily drops her catapult back into the crater. Asauinn’s deft fingers fall to her combat blade, lashing out in a lightning arch. The Dark Kin thrust her long spear into the cold metal of the city road, intercepting her dagger easily. “Quick on your feet. I like you.”
The Succubus wore nothing but a chest plate and thick body glove suit. She had raven colored hair wrapped in a ponytail that split into three, bladed braids, the tips falling down to the soles of her feet. Narrow eyes the color of the abyss gazed into her visor, deceptively warm and inviting. But her smug grin promised malevolence and cruelty unrestrained. She grips her long spear –no doubt a power weapon- tight enough to thrust into her gut and come out through the other side. The Arena Champion settled for twisting her heel back and forth with a crushing force until Asauinn drops her blade and cries out.
“Reshen, enough.” The wych-champion’s face shoots up toward the Dark Kin with the powerful field swirling around him. He raises one finger and points to the craftworlder stuck on the lip of a crater. “Help her.”
Reshen appears to want to vomit in unbridled disgust. “Ha. If that is your desire, my Archon.” She kicked her spear out, extending the end of the shaft for Asauinn to pull herself out. She lifts her foot with excruciating patience, the Corsair rips her broken hand free, and accepts the offer.
The Archon replied with disdain. “I am Pheth, Archon of the Strife that Bleeds. Reshen, return her to the Ilyandrites, no doubt they’ll have more use for her than I. I’ll clean up these little Tau and join you shortly.”