Planet Nyx. A harsh, but habitable world. Located near Catachan outpost, planet Nyx belonged in the homeworld systems of the Imperial Guard and the Space Marines. Located near the Maelstrom, Nyx held many undiscovered secrets. Small warp storms, bizzare energies and rifts, unexplored ruins, abandoned cities, underground machinery, caves and creatures that inhabited the planet targeted Nyx as one of what one would call "Exploration Worlds".

 

Nyx was also near Catachan Outpost- a base that trained Astra Militarum soldiers. The honorable Commisaur who was stationed for years on Catachan Outpost for heavy training was sent to Nyx a few years ago to increase Astra Militarum's force strength and to explore the planet for possible resources. Our story begins there.

 

The Betrayal

 

Honorable Commisaur Helsling and his unit was recently under investigation. The Space Marines received rumors from locals that Comisaur's unit was seen killing the locals and friendies, and destroying important structures. After the word got out, the Space Marines warship Cerberus immediatelly dispatched a small squad of Ultramarines led by a Librarian Max Lotharus to find out what was going on.

 

Upon arrival with the hope of peace talks, instead they were immediately attacked by the Commissaur and his army, leading to a long battle. The Commissaur was a great strategist. He placed his heavy units up on a hill, and with a help of mortar fire and knowledge of terrain, he forced the Ultramarines to charge forward. The marines had to charge into a battle where the odds were 3 against 1, hoping that their armour would help to shift the tides of the battle. Commissaur was able to significantly wound the Ultramarine Librarian in a challenge. The Space Marines fought ferociously and have nearly won, but towards the end of battle the tides shifted and the marines had to retreat. Retreating, the Ultramarines have called for back-up.

 

The Dark Eldar Wyches

 

This distress call was intercepted not only by Space Marines' warship Cerberus, but also by the Blood Fang- another warship belonging to the Space Wolves, which happened to be in the area on patrol. The Wolves were closer, so they immediately diverted their course for the planet, rushing in to help the retreating Ultramarines.

 

Meanwhile, the retreating battle brothers were suddenly ambushed by no other than Dark Eldar Wyches, with a very strong Succubus leader. With weakened forces, the marines fought a perilous battle. Dark Eldar with their superior vehicles and more units overwhelmed Ultramarines quickly. The marines secured a position on a hill, trying to pick off the swarm of flyers. They were successful in destroying a small squad of Dark Eldar vehicles and destroyed one of the troop transports completely. Dark Eldar units poured out, running blindly to engage the Space Marines.

 

Another Dark Eldar transport got stuck in a rough terrain and the marines took that opportunity to call in for deep strike with a squad of Terminators. Unfortunately, the transport contained the Succubus Warlord. The beasts poured out of the ship, quickly engaging the Terminators. Succubus threw a challenge at the Terminator Commander. Without hesitation or fear, the commander accepted. But he was no match for the Succubus: with her lightning fast attacks, the Succubus managed to not only kill the Terminator squad leader, but also 2 more units. The Terminator squad was decimated shortly after. 

 

Meanwhile, the other marines engaged in a ferocious battle with the units from the destroyed transport. But the Dark Eldar seemed to feel no pain! Unknown to the Space Marines, the Dark Eldar ingested drugs just before the battle which made them immune to pain and increased their toughness by about 33 percent! In close quarters, the Space Marines did not stand a chance, and even the Librarian, still carrying wounds from his previous battle with the Commisaur, was slain in no time. The only hope for the marines was the Land Speeder, which was doing a fantastic job at burning the Wych squads with its Heavy Flame Cannon. Unfortunately, it was charged by the Succubus and, with a lucky strike, it blew up into pieces.

 

Seeing the horror, the only remaining Ultramarine Sergeant of a small squad unit decided this was not worth dying for.

 

"The hell with this battle, I'm getting the fuck out of here!" - he yelled out, then pushed his way through two Dark Eldar Wyches and ran towards the extraction point.

 

He was nearly reaching his objective, calling the Space Wolves for help, with only his head visible across the field from a certain ship cannon angle... Only to have his head explode by a blast out of the cannon of the Dark Eldar transport ship, which was stuck in the mud... watching the whole battle with a grin. A head shot. Fucking. Sweet!

 

...and thus, the marines were wiped out to the last man with a signature head shot before the Space Wolves were able to help. What a fine day for the Dark Eldar!

 

The Ghosts of the Space Marines

 

Without any knowledge of the recent battle between the Space Marines and the Wyches, the Blood Fang quickly approached their destination.

 

Suddenly, the ship was under attack! Rushing in to see what was going on, the Space Wolves units were shocked to see the Ultramarines attacking them on their own ship! Rushing through hallways, the Ultramarines made a charge, creating unbelieveable riot and chaos. But, there was something odd about them- they phased in and out, almost like not being there. When they got to the hangar area, a fierce battle ensued.  But to the wolve's surprise, the blasts from the Ultramarines' bolters did not penetrate the wolve's armour. Shortly after, the Space Marines just... dissipated into the air.

 

"What the hell was that?" - yelled one of the Space Wolf's younger soldiers, scratching his head in bewilderement and thowing up his arms in the air. "Some type of illusion?"

 

"Must have been the dark powers that lurk around this sector!"- one of the warriors snarled through his fangs, still mounted on his giant Fenrisian Wolf. "We're somewhat close to the Maelstrom. Who knows what kind of strange demons and creatures come out of the Warp?"

 

"This looked like the ghosts of the Ultramarines squad that called for help, if you ask me"- said Commander Lukas, examining the holes in the walls which his squad was responsible for. "I don't know what kind of mechanism or magic causes this, but I think we will have to be more careful. This planet seems fishy."

 

Lukas stuck a finger in one of the blast holes to pull out a glowing piece of plasma. He then turned around, and with a glowing finger he pointed up and addressed his crew.

 

"And also, we will be teaming up with another Space Marine dispachment unit sent out by Space Marines warship, the Cerberus. They have also received a message of the defeat and a small backup squad is on a course to join with us. We will be descending together, so things look a little brighter. But we do need to report this incident to the command. We will try to look for any survivors, but judging from the fight we just had, I highly doubt that we will find any. We must be ready for anything. The Necrons, Chaos... Hell, even the Tyranids."

 

A short silence followed.

 

"Dismissed!" - said Lukas.

 

The wolves slowly returned to their posts, enthusiastically talking about the fight they just experienced. Someone will have to repair those shot-up walls and the blasts made to the ship's interior, Lukas thought. Fuck.

 

The Nature of The Hunt

 

While the Dark Eldar Succubus leads her raiders across the planet in search of valuable keepsakes, her cousins in misery, a Harlequin warband, have seized upon their true quarry, an ancient C'Tan artifact., Squealing delightfully, they bound, leap, and whir their jetbikes towards the beacon, its emotionally distressing output, a soundtrack to these whimsical warriors. Their gleeful merriment ends abruptly as they are met by resistance from a roving Planetary Defense force lead by Imperial officer J. "Wraith" Edgerton. His heavily concealed armored patrol begins laying waste to the lithe, flitting aliens on sight, but they weave their craft into striking positions tearing into light armor with ease.  Dancing across the battlefield, a lone Solitaire grabs the glowing device, whisking it away, while his comrades fall prey to artillery bombardments and heavy laser fire.  In the midst of all the carnage, a defeated Shadowseer lays an outstretched glove across a passing Catachan soldier, instantly learning much about the distress of this planet and the turmoil it is doomed to see play out. Rising from his own scorched mortal body he reaches into the mind of Edgerton, sharing the wealth of understanding unique to his kind. At this moment an accord is reached, neither truly sure whether to proclaim relief or despair.  The mysterious artifact glows dimly, twirling in the hands of the deadly Solitaire for safekeeping. 

 

Commissar Helsing

 

Under new directives, Commissar Helsling has established a base of operations within abandoned imperial science facility Alpha Tau Sigmar, planet Nyx. Orders confirm that Eldar forces are not to be engaged until further notice, and as the shadows surrounding A.T.S. begin to writhe and distort with alien craft, Helsling demands reluctant control from his men.  Astartes warrriors will soon be the stuff of their nightmares, should they survive this night.

 

At first light, Commander Lukas positions his ground forces at the outskirts of Alpha Tau Sigmar station, awaiting the aid from mobile Ultramarine force Omega before unleashing the slavering

 

bloodlust of his bloodclaws and Fenrisian wolf riders upon the renegade Guard forces gathered in the area.  Auspex scannners suddenly begin filling with blips from both flanks of the entrenched guard, heat signatures and velocity lead lukas to believe there may be Eldar cunning behind the betrayal occuring on Nyx. With the advantage of speed giving way to the opponent, Lukas snarls and howls, revealing his charismatic smirk, knowing that his moniker, "The Trickster" may just prove too accurate this day.

 

Centuries of survival on Comorragh has trained the Succubus wych coven to see through the thickest gloom, proven so as an opening beam of darklight tears into a newly arrived transport rhino sending Ultramarine reinforcements into cover.  Seconds later, fire flashes in the sky as a drop pod screams into retro-thrust, hatches blowing out with a hiss while flames erupt from a 12 foot tall armoured legend, laying waste to guardsmen by the dozen. Screaming for order, Helsling is momentarily taken aback by the looming silhouette of an overhead Eldar Raider taking careful aim before shearing the Dreadnaught at the waist, rendering it immobile. With 1 threat removed, relief vanishes as 2 more atake its place. Wolves at the front door and Ultramarine Terminators materialising to his right, the guard know that their mission is not victory in battle but in death, wearing down the enemy with quickly diminishing lasfire for the Succubus to charge in. 

 

Lukas watches keenly as his men are picked off by needlefire during their advance, but quickly seizes his chance  for glory as the vanity of the Succubus wych places her within reach. Crouching menacingly, she accepts his laughing challenge. Staying her hand momentarily, Lukas adeptly prepares a stasis transport, and as the Succubus' blade nears his throat, the deadman's switch is released, exiling them both in a blink. Without their leader, the wyches are quickly over run, combat drugs no longer granting a sense of wreckless abandon as they are cut down by bursts of boltfire and throats torn open by hungry wolves.

 

The Necron Tomb

 

 

Far below the polar ice, a faint hum spreads intermittently for kilo-miles, vibrating at such high frequency that micrometric fractures begin chiseling out smooth contours in both stone and earth.  Luminessence pierces the snowy veil, revealing tall pyramidal shapes as mountains make way for metal.  

 

Warp energy crackles against machinery as an ancient sentience reaches out for functioning equipment littering an abandoned drilling operation. The sky, cloudy with code, ripples and distorts while small scarabs toil to first unearth the "protectors", before moving on to the next burial site.  With a furious howl, and a booming flash of ethereal light, savage creatures of flame and blood begin prowling the area, noses twisted with contempt, eyes pealed for mortal victims. Scouring the snowdrifts, they are set upon by small swarms of scarabs, easily dispatched with flame and cannon blasts from a Khorne blood charot poised above them. The herald of khorne, Magrath, pushes his bloodletter hordes forward. Flesh hounds circle a perimeter, scanning for life and a cause for his incorporation.

 

Rising from the earth, five hovering Necron destroyers, deranged from their long slumber, begin blasting at the cannon, gauss energy quickly deteriorating its armour.  The herald snarls, and declares a charge against the mechanical defenders, throwing his forces straight into gauss blasts before finally colliding into glorious combat, once again. The balllistic machines, however, are championed by a Destroyer Lord, barely cognizant of its new sense of being, but maddened by the disruption of its yet unknown purpose. They exchange blows easily capable of sundering any mortal, both nearly invulnerable, having given themselves over to greater powers in aeons past.  Raging ever more furiously, the Herald finally strikes a downward thrust deep into the base of the Lord, staking it to the ground, it's eye-jewels dimming permanently.

 

Khorne's wrath yet unfulfilled, Magrath quickly orders all Necron structures in the vicinity set to warpflame, before marching into the snowy tundra. The close combat challenges quickly swayed in their favor for a sweeping victory.

 

 

Helsling's Cunning

 

 

Commissar Helsling , cut off from reinforcements, has managed to flee the battle field, narrowly escaped Imperial redemption at the hands of Space wolves and Ultramarine forces. Outside Alpha Tau Sigmar,  his men have become inexplicably more enraged and even feral. Their drive is inspired, and yet not by the Commissar's tyrant disciplinary field presence, but a maddened lunacy. The Preacher, familiar to the conscripts, has all but convinced every one them that they are invulnerable, servants of the great Emperor, and humanity's finest warriors. They march at the head of his force, clearing the fresh snow for his seasoned soldiers and the supply vehicle.  Days pass before their ranks are refreshed from a small garrison en route to the original target coordinates and communications re-established with the top brass.  It seems that a Catachan legend, Commander Edgerton has assumed control of ground operations on the planet and declared martial law at the behest of Imperial Inquisition. Encrypted linguistics confirm his mission remains the same. Without further inquiry, Helsling straightens his shoulders and pushes his men further into the withering heights leading to sub-arctic Nyx.

 

Planet Nyx, a world founded well after the great reclamation, an infant in Imperial holdings, is still virgin to the exploration of its settlers.  Known for glacial water reserves and lush, fertile tropics, the world is as dangerous to its inhabitants as they are Naive to its history.  The Lord Commissar knows all too well how quickly a youngling planet can fall prey to the unspeakable terrors of the galaxy, or just as often, the manifest fears of its own people. As if his meandering thoughts could spawn hidden inner demons, the horizon line became full of red, humanoid creatures, against a backdrop of misty green haze.  From the slackened pace of his company, he knew that this was no deception of the mind.  The creatures could be seen prowling in the dirt, sniffing into the breeze, when their gazes in unison swiveled towards his troops and fires could be seen in the facets of their eyes, even at this great distance.   They howled, shaking snow from their furry manes, an da horn could be heard, blaring out one dissonant, long note. 

 

Helsling could barely keep his arms up to shield from the raining blows from the Hellspawn Demon. His men were quickly falling to the hailstorm blasts from a distant screaming cannon. The psyker had vanished in a bloody burst of warp flame at first contact with the enemy, a testament to the psychic leeching powers of their dark lord.  The priest and his conscripts had finished off the very last of the enemy ground forces, through hit and run maneuvers designed to maximise lasfire concentration.  With all his might, Helsling raised his Relic Blade for a deflecting glance, and grabbing the pommel with his pistol hand, drove the blade downward,  cleaving through the furious beast. It fell to its knees, and with utter disregard for its wounds, grasped at the Commissars tattered official robes, driving a seering glare into his soul. It rasped through discorporeating lips, "We are your salvation, you fool......We are your own hatred made flesh, and we will consume you...from within..." 

 

A warp storm activation left the Primaris Psyker destroyed and replaced by a Herald of Khorne. The demon cannon was able to slaughter 90% of the guardsmen while flesh hounds and blood letters made way on foot, dying to organised lasfire.  A final, desperate charge from the Commissar into Magrath secured his victory over the battlefield.