A Worthy Prey

**Tales of the Hunt: A Worthy Prey**
Gather Brothers and let me tell you a tale of the Bane of Tyrants, our brother, Our Captain. You have witnessed him in battle, but you have never seen him stalk, no one ever does. I remember a time before the title and the glory, a time when he was simply known as Aristaeus.

Aristaeus a young man who had risen quickly to become a member of our veteran first company, he had never been sent on a solo big game hunt before and his skills were untested. This is a story of his first big game hunt, a tale of cunning and guile and a tale of Glory; But first let me set the scene.

An attachment of Brothers was dispatched to a forgettable hive city to mop up the remnants of a recruitment hunt. I was among their number. The beacon had been activated and as usual we descended to the unknown to see how many of the initiates had survived. We entered the forsaken tunnels of the under hive, following the signal of the beacon, each brother wishing they were on the front line of the eternal hunt but prepared to do their duty. The air was hot and thick with the putrid stench of decaying flesh. Evidence of the cult’s atrocities lay in the dark corners of every tunnel. It was clear that the initiates had successfully tracked the cult back to the genestealer’s Lair and from the number of half-eaten bodies that littered the walkways the cult was bigger than average. We took solace in the freshness of some of the kills, our experience told us this it was still a young cult, the generations hadn’t produced more than aberrants, this meant no new genestealers to spread to this world’s many hives. As we delved deeper, we found our first xenos bodies. The initiates had done well, clean kills. So often we are disappointed to see bodies strewn with bullet wounds when one would do. Before log we found the beacon and the cavern the cultists call home. 4 of the original 10 initiates had survived and were eager to show off their kills. A good number this time, they must have come from a robust planet. We began the process of confirming the kills, as we went the seeds of doubt began to germinate. Octavian, the most cocksure of the initiates was adamant that he had taken on and killed the patriarch, yet he could not provide a trophy let alone the corpse. He tried to convince his experienced superiors that the body had fallen down a ventilation shaft, but he did not realise that he stunk of fear and deception. Culmack, the tracker, took a sample of DNA from one of the fallen cultists, isolated the Xenos strain and sent it to his bio scanner. Immediately it confirmed that the Patriarch had fled its signal heading north through the tunnels of the under hive, north towards the spaceport. At the same time a gurgle was heard, I did not turn, I did not need to, it was the sound made as the sergeant’s knife pierced Octavian’s neck before he could attempt a defence. The other initiates learnt a valuable lesson about honesty that day.

It is here that our very own Aristaeus enters the story.

A Vox communique is sent to the cruiser orbiting above, it simply states ‘The herd is culled, the predator escaped. Dispatch a hunter’ followed by coordinates. Aristaeus is that hunter. A single quarry, tight spaces, as a veteran he knows how to prepare. Phobos armour, a hunting knife for each hand and a bolt pistol with a single clip. Leave the helmet hunters work better with natural vision.

Boarding the dropship Aristaeus readies himself for the hunt. He closes his eyes and visualises his prey. His senses heighten, he can hear each mechanical click inside the ship, he can feel every vibration, time seems to slow. His blood feels like it is on fire as his body floods with the endorphins of anticipation and then calm, his mind his free of all but the hunt.

Aristaeus jumps from the drop ship close to the spaceport, landing in the street amongst the unsuspecting populace, he moves quickly to the shadows, fast enough that those who notice him think he is a phantom, a figment of imagination seen in the peripheral vision. Good if the people knew he had arrived then surely their reaction would alert his prey. Quickly locating the sealed entrance leading to the tunnels below, Aristaeus works swiftly and deftly to bypass the lock, remaining unseen he starts his descent into the dark. His eyes quickly adjust to see in the gloom. He does not use a light, even in sections of complete darkness. He uses his touch to traverse the cubes. The air is acidic with the decay of negligence. He enters the boundary of the space port right on top of the coordinates given and begins to track his prey the natural way. Subtle clues reveal where the patriarch headed. The slightest discolouration reveals where one of the beasts’ monstrous claws took hold of a pipe. We may hate these vile beasts, but we cannot ignore the beauty in their design, little else could move through those tunnels whilst leaving so little trace, save Aristaeus, he leaves no trace.

Aristaeus pauses at each junction and void in the wall, he meticulously checks and confirms the tracks, hours pass as he stalks the tunnels unnoticed and unseen by any other life. And then he smells it. Stopping suddenly. The Patriarch is still releasing pheromones, it’s made a mistake or maybe it’s a genetic weakness. Pheromones that are used to bond his cult are unmistakable to the trained hunter, so why produce them when you have abandoned your cult for your own self-interest. Reasoning that it must be close, hiding nearby, waiting to slip on a transport to get off world and start anew, Aristaeus began to track the scent, moving from tunnel to tunnel, into a crawl space below a shuttle pad. The scent was easy to follow, and Aristaeus believed the hunt would soon be over as he stalked his prey to a small service hatch that emerged onto the pad right next to the landing pontoon of small freighter. Silently Aristaeus slipped through the hatch and began to climb into the freighter, his keen senses alert, eyes scanning every potential hiding space. But no sooner had he started his ascent into the ship, he froze, something was not right. As he did so the freighter hummed into life and the engines fired. What was he missing, Aristaeus was unsure for the first time, he knew that he had missed something, quickly he began to scour his mind, recalling each bit of evidence he had found that directed him to the creature’s location. The launch countdown started in the distance.

His thoughts whirring as he tried to fathom what he had missed and then all of a sudden, clarity, as though the emperor had shone his divine light on him. The tiny imprints that the Patriarchs claws made had stopped. There were none inside the freighter, just the traces of the pheromone. Cunning beast, he thought to himself, jumping from the landing assembly just as the ship began its thunderous ascent to the heavens.

The Patriarch had created a diversion in case it was being followed, any other hapless hunter would be off world at this point leaving the Patriarch free to restart his cult on this world. A smile briefly crosses Aristaeus’ lips. A good day, he thinks, finally a worthy prey.

Descending back below the surface Aristaeus now focusses on the tiny claw marks that are barely visible, the creature does not know he leaves these. Aristaeus now see’s the marks move off down the tunnel. Humbled, he now learns that he is never to experienced to improve his skills. Our hunter vows at this time that he will not stop trying to improve as a hunter and moves off down the tunnel, once again into the near pitch black of the under hive. Aristaeus continued to track his prey through the inky blackness of the under hive for 2 days, hunter and prey had zig zagged across miles of the hive city locked in a lethal game of cat and mouse, only Aristaeus had the advantage, his mouse did not know there was a cat. Finally, Aristaeus, spots his prey across the superstructure of a putrid corpse starch cannery. There hidden among the steel trellis of the roof is the genestealer patriarch. Its body entwinned with the structure around it, rendering it almost invisible. The hapless workers below would think it a part of the roof if they were to look up. Seemingly convinced that it was not being pursued the Patriarch was now hunting as well. Its cold soulless eyes locked on to a small group of workers scurrying around the floor below. Silently it followed its prey, choosing which one to make its new thrall. Aristaeus couldn’t help to respect the creature. For its size it moved with remarkable efficiency and stealth, but it has made another mistake. This creature believes it is the apex predator on this planet. It still does not know that another predator is stalking it.

For hours the two predators follow their prey, waiting for the right moment to make the kill, each movement is calculated and precise and brings the predators ever closer to their intended targets. As the Patriarch moves position again, Aristaeus notices a change in its movement, it’s holding itself tighter, muscles are tense, it’s about to pounce. Aristaeus looks into its eyes and thinks he recognises the sense of anticipation of the kill, an emotion mirrored in him. The beast still does not see him, it cannot sense his presence, as it silently moves from cover. Finally in the open the creature raises itself to its full height and drives forward towards its unsuspecting victim. It reaches out with a clawed hand and then stops, millimetres from the prey. Frozen, it cannot move, fear trickles into its eyes. Yes, now it sees Aristaeus, it understands that it is not the apex predator as its neck is being crushed by the vice like grip of our hunter. Pain suddenly surges through the creature’s body as the knife slowly pierces its body, slicing through the tissue until it reaches its heart. The life slowly drains from the creature as Aristaeus calmly watches. Aristaeus speaks for the first time, “Thank you for the hunt’.

Now, Brothers, perhaps you expected an epic battle between foes as the conclusion to this story, but that is not the way that the veterans of the 1st company operate. Aristaeus knows this and now so do you, there will be plenty of bloody epic battles, it is in the hunt that we find the true glory as a master stalker. When we hunt, we do so silently and efficiently and when we kill like this, we have the honour of taking a trophy for our armour. Next time you see our captain see the number of claws that adorn his plate and dream that one day someone may stand in this great hall and tell stories of your glorious hunts.

More tales of the hunt can be found below

* The Call of the Wild
* Clipped Wing

Or you can read about the Swarm Stalkers here.