Part I: Expectant Nemesis

Part I: Expectant Nemesis

On the massive bridge of the Imperial Cruiser Undaunted Will crew members dutifully attend to their stations among the dark gloom. Only the glows of their stations provide any relief from the oppressive darkness. To use more light would only invite distractions from one's holy duty to The Emperor.

Captain Grateshaw, a veteran of some forty years, stands at the Combat Information Center, or CIC. He looks down at the tactical table before him and rechecks the coordinates as he had been doing repeatedly for hours. Grateshaw is certain his vessel is in the correct area of space at the edge of the accursed Eye of Terror.

"View screen", Captain Grateshaw orders.

With a flick of a dial the giant view screen comes to life and Grateshaw is reassured that this is indeed the correct coordinates. Filling his view screen is swirling clouds of reds, pinks and blues that twist and mingle into what can only be described as a vortex-like storm.

"We have arrived at The Brigadoom Corridor, sir", the helmsman reports.

Captain Grateshaw studies the vortex carefully on the screen. He mentally notes at how deceptively beautiful the chaotic clouds of color can be as he sighs in relief. The Brigadoom Corridor has a tendency to change position in space without warning. Thus making it hard to locate, sometimes for decades.

"Report", Grateshaw orders.

A sensors officer complies, "The warp storm's vortex is 93 percent weaker than reported by the last Imperial vessel scanning it. That was the ..... Imperial Heavy Cruiser Death's Head 38 years ago, sir."

"93 percent weaker!?" Grateshaw is horrified. "Where is Commissar Stuttgarten? He wished to be alerted as soon as we arrived? He must see this."

The black metal doors of the bridge part silently. A man dressed in the authoritarian black and red uniform of a highly decorated Commissar steps onto the bridge. Despite being middle-aged his scars and eye patch make him appear many decades older. His scowl scans the bridge like a flamethrower causing the crew to jump to attention in salute.

"Commissar on the bridge!"

Black boots pound the metal grating underneath as Commissar Stuttgarten walks purposely towards the CIC. Captain Grateshaw salutes smartly. Stuttgarten waves a dismissive hand towards the captain's dutiful protocol. In a disturbing gravel voice the Commissar speaks, "Yes, yes, captain. Enough with formalities what have you found?"

"The Warp Storm inside The Brigadoom Corridor is 93 percent weaker. The corridor is almost open", Grateshaw reports cautiously.

Commissar Stuttgarten's brow narrows in frustration as he focuses his one good eye on the CIC table's readouts below him.

"On average the corridor opens every 166 years. It is already nearly 40 years past that". The Commissar lifts his head to place his steely one-eyed gaze upon the view screen. "Just like in all the centuries past they will come again when the warp storm subsides and the path is clear. The Brigadoom Legion will sow a swath of bloody carnage through Imperial space like a reaper's blade."

Captain Grateshaw asks, "Should I alert the Cadian sector, sir?"

Commissar Stuttgarten pauses before delivering his single word response, "Yes."

No sooner than the Commissar's order is given a helmsman yells out, "The warp storm has collapsed on itself! A magnitude seventy-one warp wave has escaped from the corridor! Impact in five seconds!"

Captain Grateshaw yells his orders, "Alert status Maximus! All crew brace for impact!"

The captain secures a firm grip upon the edges of the CIC table. He nods to the Commissar to do the same, "Commissar?" Stuttgarten scowls his displeasure as he stares at the rapidly approaching wave of warp on the screen. Mere seconds before impact he reaches out and grasps the edges of the tactical table. The black leathered gloves squeak as his grip tightens.

With disdain, Commissar Stuttgarten dryly states the obvious, "You were to close, captain."

The ship is suddenly rocked violently. The deafening sound of a collision reverberates through the ship as the warp wave slams against the hull. The hull screeches as it buckles and groans against the impact. The ship lurches sideways dangerously and klaxons blare out in anger to report the dire circumstances of damage the wave has wrought.

"Report! All decks report!", the captain demands.

"Massive damage on all decks. The hull is breached on several decks. Gravitational compensators coming back online. Many casualties reported", the communications officer shouts out above the sound of klaxons.

The ship starts to right itself as the captain asks, "What about the escort ships? Report!"

Communication officers relay the grim news, "Escort ship Claymore, Imortus and Blood Fury are destroyed. Other escort ships report various grades of damage. Wait. Um, unconfirmed reports of daemons appearing from warp rifts. Some crew are being possessed and rapidly mutated. Boarders are being engaged...."

A second officer interrupts the first, "We now have reports from most decks of daemons aboard Undaunted Will. Our security teams are being directed to repulse boarders. Many mutations are reported on all decks causing mass confusion and panic."

Captain Grateshaw looks with an ashen face towards Commissar Stuttgarten. "They will defeat the daemons, my crew are highly trained to overcome any distractions or obstacles in their way."

Stuttgarten simply glares at the captain with his one good eye. The piercing cold gray of his iris relays a dire warning without the need of speaking a single word.

Intimidated by the thought of summary execution for loosing control of his crew Captain Grateshaw takes matters into his own hands. He steps forward to the helm station taking control from the helmsman.

As the captain plots a course he relays his intentions to the commissar, "I'm plotting a course away from the corridor, the more space we get between us and it the less effect the warp will have upon us. Then we can get a better grip on the situation and get my ship back in order."

Without warning the helmsman suddenly convulses violently in his chair. Blood and bodily fluids spray everywhere as his body mutates at an incredible speed into a daemonic monstrosity! Captain Grateshaw is frozen with fear as the helmsman completes his transformation right beside him.

A black gloved hand suddenly grabs Captain Grateshaw by the shoulder and throws him backwards onto the deck just before the possessed helmsman tries to bite the captain's head with a disgusting toothy maw. The daemon tries to escape his seat but is held in place by the seat belt harness and thrashes with unholy strength to get free.

Grateshaw looks up in bewilderment as Commissar Stuttgarten draws his bolt pistol with his gloved hand and fires a shot into the daemonic helmsman's upper back. To everyone's astonishment the bolter round impacts with the creatures bony back only to be deflected harmlessly.

"By the Emperor! Save us!", the captain screams in horror from the floor.

Scowling with anger now, Commissar Stuttgarten raises his bolt pistol to the back of the daemon's head. He rests the end of the barrel on the back of the creature's skull, the only part that seems to have not grown a bony armored plate yet. Stuttgarten squeezes the trigger and the possessed helmsman's head explodes leaving only a fine red mist. With brains and gore plastered on his face the horrified navigator sitting next to the dead helmsman stares wide-eyed at the headless corpse.

Stuttgarten holsters his pistol as he looks down at the tactical table grimly. A gloved hand wipes away fragments of flesh and skull from the table and onto the floor near the captain.

"I believe you have a ship to get back under control don't you, captain? I suggest you get right to work."

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On the other side of The Brigadoom Corridor, deep within the star cluster hidden there, is a command center on a demon damned planet. Within the command center's central room the darkness is even more oppressive than on an Imperial starship. Groans of suffering wail from the walls of this room where scores of nude young men and women are shackled to languish in various states of distress. Some have been eviscerated or dismembered as gruesome sacrifices to one of the foul gods.

From the soft glow of a console a red light starts to blink. The technician slave there reads the output from his long range scanners and reports the findings.

"Lord Keithdan MacGrory, I'm reading that the warp storms at the corridor have collapsed."

From his throne of steel and skulls the huge chaos lord slowly grins. At last the day has arrived. He knows now that The Brigadoom Legion is returning from it's hibernation after two long centuries.

"How soon before the corridor is safe enough to get the first raiding party through?", the lord's deep commanding voice queries.

The technician turns back to this readings then reports, "Two, maybe three weeks, My Lord. Months after that the corridor will be wide enough to get the biggest of the crusade ships through."

Lord MacGrory rises from his seat, rejuvenated after centuries of inactivity. Now the moment of a new Dark Crusade was upon him and his Legion. He can almost smell the battlefields of fresh gore and the taste of a battle victim's salty blood sprayed upon his lips. It had been far, far too long since he last experienced such simple pleasures in the name of the Chaos Gods.

"It is time that The Legion reanimates from the long sleep of death on The Plains of Damnation. I have much preparations to attend to before the glorious reanimation."

As the Chaos Lord turns to leave the room another slave speaks, "Long range sensors have picked up what appears to be an small Imperial fleet ..... one capitol ship and several escorts. They seem to be damaged and boarded by daemons escaping through the residual energy of a warp wave."

Lord MacGrory smirks with a knowing wicked smile. "Got to close to the corridor when it opened did they? Ignore them. Even if they do survive the daemons no ships besides Legion ships can survive the travel through the corridor."

The Chaos Lord moved with purpose, he had an entire crusade to wage against the hated corpse-lovers of the Imperium and anybody else whom just happened to have the misfortune of being nearby. He didn't know how many decades the corridor would be open this time. That is the way of the warp, unpredictable but at the same time it has always been The Brigadoom Legion's safe haven.

"Death to the Corpse-Lovers!"

Really cool, I keep thinking of Nick Fury when I think of the Commissar.

CKO wrote:Really cool, I keep thinking of Nick Fury when I think of the Commissar.

Hmm. Now I keep seeing Samuel L Jackson as the commissar in my head. He's been in almost every other movie so why not this?