Thread: Imperial Agenda (Squishypink and Arcturus)

Empty space loomed in every direction, distant stars the only points of light in the otherwise empty black void of space. Lightyears away, the vastness of the Eye of Terror shone, a tear in the warp from which the lone ship had come. Rust shone on the hull of the vessel like open wounds, and jagged tears and rents in the massive vessel told the story of ten thousand years of warfare which the craft had seen. The Discordant had once been a vessel of the mighty Legions of the old space marines, back before the foolish Imperium had decided to split the marines apart, weakening themselves, leaving them open. Now, the vessel served a new master, the god Slaanesh. The ship, where paint could be seen, was done up in a cavalcade of color and designs too numerous to count. The massive guns of the ship had been modified, so that every blast resonated discordant music within the might war vessel, a cacophony of pleasure to those damned souls who toiled inside. Master of the vessel was the Chaos Champion Heiros Lutherius. Once a member of the Emperors Children legion, Lutherius now served only Slaanesh. The Imperial Aquila had been besmirched upon his armor, which was now a mixture of purple and black. At his side was a terribly loud chain sword, which the champion did so enjoy to use. The roar of the engine and the whir of the blades as it tore into flesh made him practically giddy. The merest thought of it sent a shiver down his corrupt spine. His bolter, older than whole civilizations, had been warped and changed by the powers of the warp, the mouth of the weapon literally screaming with every unholy round fired at his enemies. Even his armor seemed to cry out with every heavy step which he took. Beneath that armor, Lutherius was beautifl to behold. Unlike many in the service of Slaanesh, who became mutated in their pursuit of pleasure, Lutherius perversions were not as prone to warping him. Marines and acolytes around him were hideous creatures, eyes bulbous, ears melded into audio enhancers as they sought even the slightest pleasure, their bodies long since immune to regular levels of stimulation. Lutherius has skin which was nearly flawless, a lone scar running along his jawline from ages past. His eyes were the blue of lake water, back when Terra had oceans and lakes. His silvery-gold hair was cut close to his head. Powerful limbs and a broad chest were hidden beneath the armor, honed muscles taut and as ready today as they had been millennia ago. At this moment, those ice blue eyes were focused upon the scanners set into the console. In the distance was an Imperial vessel. From the markings upon it, the ship belonged to the Sisters of Battle. He snorted almost derisively, his arrogance at his own strength showing at that moment. The Sisters of Battle might be brave and fierce warriors, but none could hope to stand against the might of a Chaos marine, especially those of old, when the technology of the Empire had been great, not this shadow of old glory which they were now, hanging on by a thread. Their vessel was smaller than the great war vessel which Lutherius commanded. If he wanted to, his ship could wipe the sisters from existence, sending them to their precious false Emperor. That, however, was not what he had in mind. His plans had been rather different, but this would suit him just as well. Prepare to fire, he ordered, his voice a deep bass which carried clearly over the command deck. Disable their engines and prepare to board. Take them alive. He wanted to hear their delicious cries. With a roar, the guns opened up, firing across a hundred miles of space in a near instant, the rounds smashing into the Imperial ship, punching holes into the hull and utterly destroying the engines with the first volley. Against a larger vessel such an action would not have been possible, not with the first volley. There could be no more than a company of Sisters on this ship, however, no doubt investigating some claim of heresy on another forsaken planet within the Imperium. Whatever the case, they were here now, and would suit Lutherius aims. Several boarding ships, gunboats capable of holding half a dozen marines, burst from the hull of the Discordant like puss-filled growths, swarming toward the disabled craft. Lutherius was not on any of those ships. He was already making his preparations. Perhaps the Sisters had been heading to the exact planet which was his eventual goal. To most, it was a backwater agricultural planet, but Lutherius knew better. He had plans for this planet, which would be just the beginning.