In Memoria (40K)

[LadyTevar]

This is the finest 40k fan fic ive come across. I came to these boards just to continue reading this mans work. Any chance of you coming to the new BL boards?

Yes.

We were rooting for him to win the last BL contest.

[gunldesnapper]

I was too. Im hooked to his 40K stories.

[[R_H]]

I was too. Im hooked to his 40K stories.

What contest was that - and who won? Revenant and Imperial Overlord are my two favorite WH40K fanfic writers. IMO, no-one else comes close.

[Dominus]

Alas for poor Nofield. I quite liked her as a character (one of the few commissars sans Abnett's Gaunt that I can speak of in positive terms), though I knew she wasn't going to make it in the long run, given her notable absence in the 41k RPG.

There will be a great and terrible reckoning for this, I hope.

[Imperial Overlord]

Brilliant white hellgun beams struck the armsmen in the breastplate. He fell to his knees and then toppled to the deck, his shotcannon falling out of his dead hands. A moment later a grenade struck the wall of the T junction behind him and burst into a cloud of incandescent plasma. The roiling cloud engulfed another armsmen. When it receeded, it left charred flesh and blackened ceramite in its wake.

Sulliman Crane turned to Eraine Gersh. Crane had served as a retainer and warrior in Inquisitor Brokk's service for three times as long as the woman he answered too, but in his opinion the Inquisitor had never possessed a finer servant than Gersh. The interrogator was wearing gold washed carapace armour and a golden battlemask with dark red lenses. "My lady, this isn't working. They're too good and too well equiped for us to dig them out this way. We'll just burn up our men and time trying."

"Pull our men back and tell them to brace for assault," Gersh replied. "I'll dig them out."

---------------------------------------

Hethor looked back at his four men command group. "Bioscanner readings Corporal Marr?"

"They're retreating sir," said Marr.

"Not like them to give up," said Hethor. His men had spent the last ten minutes fighting and killing in the corridors leading to the life support systems. Brokk's men had pushed hard to try and retake it, but pushing hard against prepared Stormtroopers backed by combat servitors had only gotten a lot of Brokk's armsmen killed. "They'll be trying something new. They want to get as many of the ship's crew in the fight as they can. They won't want to do all the bleedin'. Batista."

"Yes sir," said the nervous psyker.

"Keep alive. They might use witch us.."

"I am alert for it. I can-" he gasped. "I can feel her! She's so strong!"

"Throne!" growled Hethor. He tapped his breastplate and the amulet with hexagrammic wards he wore beneath it. "Fight her. Keep the bitch off us."

"I'm . . . trying," said Batista. He moaned softly.

"This isn't going well," said Lieutenant Connell.

"I can see that," snapped Hethor. One of the Stormtroopers further up the corridor twitched and shuddered. "Emperor's bones," muttered Hethor. The trooper fell.

"I hate witches," said Hethor. Connell looked back at Batista. "If they're on our side, they aren't witches," Hethor clarrified. "We're goin' to have stop this the hard way." The fallen trooper got up. He then fired a burst into the back of the Stormtrooper next to him. Hethor shot the possessed man in the back of the neck. The hellgun beam burned through the Stormtrooper's gorget and flash vaporized the water in his blood and tissued. A bloody mess sprayed out of the wound and the possessed man fell.

Batista moaned and fell to his knees. "Marr!" barked Hethor. "I want a psi tracker reading on that bitch! I'm goin' to gauge out her eyes and pull her rapin' brain out of her thrice damned sockets!"

"Fifty meters, ahead and to the left," said the corporal calmly as Batista began to shake. He looked at the psyker.

"We need all the time he can buy us," Hethor said ruthlessly. "And they'll be waiting for us. All units advance. Clear the intersection ahead!"

A pair of frag grenades were shot into the T junction ahead and then a pair of blind grenades. Hethor broke into a run, his refractor field shimmering around him like a heat distortion. He chucked another grenade further down the corridor to the right, bouncing it off walls before it came to a rest and detonated with a dull thump.

"Enemy just on the other end of the corridor," Marr said. "They'll be set up for us." Behind them, alone except for the dead, Batista Vonnel spasmed and twitched on the deck.

"They're not ready for us," said Hethor. "And their sure as the warp not ready for me. Follow me and kill them all!"

[Imperial Overlord]

Carnifex Beta stalked the kill site. The Stormtroopers had been formidable. It was logical that Keys would join with them in an attempt to terminate him, but he hadn't. The assassin hadn't come this way. He had erred. Keys had employed some kind of climbing equiment to skirt the blood pools by using the walls and ceiling. He had taken a different branch.

Trying to catch Keys would probably be unsuccessful in the short term. The correct move would be to terminate the rest of Gix's men and then hunt the assassin through the ship. Beta broke into a run and headed towards the next target zone.

More than a hundred meters and a half dozen corridors away Danell Keys spoke into his vox. "Nofield? Answer." Nothing. She was probably dead.

The Eversor would systematically eliminate all opposition. Having lost Keys he would move on to the next target, unless Danell showed up again. And he would, after a little time to prepare the killing ground. Tme that the Eversor's target might not have. The closest group to the Shrine Assassin was . . . Meradin.

"Meradin, there is a Shrine Assassin targeting your group. It's already killed Shala and her men. Withdraw towards the enginarium until I am able to neutralize it."

Lydia Meradin froze implace as her Stormtroopers moved passed her to secure the intersection. "Halt," she ordered. "Fall back."

Domina, at the vanguard of the advance, half turned. "What?" she said, hefting her heavy flamer.

"Fall back," Lydia repeated. "Shrine Assassin incoming." She switched channels. She hefted her psycannon. Waves buffeted her mind, a thousand images of death by gun, by fist, by foot, by nerve gauntlet, by blade. She forced the images away. Her soldiers jogged back passed her. "Go," she ordered.

Domina hesitated. "The Emperor is with us."

"We'll be with him very shortly if you don't follow my orders," said Lydia. "We can't match his speed or his skill. There's only one way this works and it isn't your way. It's mine. Now follow my orders and fall back. I need you to safeguard my soldiers."

"I will not-"

"Shut up!" Lydia screamed. "You swore vows of obedience! Obey! I lead this team! Go. Safeguard the others. Don't die here needlessly."

The Sororitas hesitated for a moment and then inclined her helmeted head. Domina lumbered passed Lydia and disappeared around the corner. The visions were becoming stronger, superimposing themselves over the real world.

Lydia retreated around the corner. The images came on, stronger than ever. Death was coming. A thousand different ways to die. All imminent. All of them oncoming. The harbringer of her death was almost upon her. She raised her psycannon. There was nothing in front of her but the cascading images of the warp. A thousand assassins colliding and becoming one.

She fired. The bolt's rocket motor ignited, blasting it out of the gun. Carnifex Beta blurred forward, rounding the corner. The bolt punched through the Eversor's armoured mask and his reinforced skull. It struck his frontal lobe and exploded. The assassin's skull held together, but his brain was instantly destroyed.

His body toppled towards the deck. Implants in his body recognized his flatlining brainscan and released additional chemicals. They reacted with the cocktails of drugs already flooding his body. The Eversor struck the deck. The corpse exploded.

The shockwave knocked Lydia off the deck and pelted her with bone fragments and pieces of cybernetics. Lydia shook her head and sat up. She activated her vox. "This is Meradin. The Eversor is terminated. Get a move on. We've got work to do."

[Alan Bolte]

That was... impressive.

[Vehrec]

One wonders why one doesn't see Farseers with longrifles after that beautiful display of precognition. I guess that's the one you didn't see coming, isn't it?

[Imperial Overlord]

One wonders why one doesn't see Farseers with longrifles after that beautiful display of precognition. I guess that's the one you didn't see coming, isn't it?

Farseer precog wank is even worse. They can give that heinousness to other guys on their team. Guide/Doom anyone?

[Imperial Overlord]

Eraine pushed harder. The little psyker was tough, but not her equal. He wouldn't bloody die. Snarling, she focused her will into a lance to push through his psychic defences. The defences crumbled.

She was through, into Batista's mind. No point in messing around. She fried his brainstem and withdrew from the dying psyker's mind. She snapped back into her body.

Blood was dripping from her nose and the wall and floor around her was covered in frost. The Stormtroopers had minds that were conditioned against psychic assault and had been tough nuts to crack. Finishing off the psyker had been draining in the extreme.

She fumbled for an injector, loaded it with a mix of spook and stims, and shot it into her neck. Energy flooded through her entire body. She felt like she could run an marathon and then wrestle an ork. Her mind felt like it was only half tethered to her body. Her armsmen looked at her. "They're coming," she said. Time to reach out and kill one of them.

Hethor darted around the corner, shrapnel bouncing off his refractor field. A burst of hellgun beams struck the wall next to him, splintered off his refractor field, and bored a hole in his breastplate. Brokk's troops were stubborn on defence, using grenades and automatic weapons to discourage the advance. Playing creep forward games would only let their psyker kill them one by one and Hethor wasn't having any part of that shit.

So he bulled forward, protected by heavy armour and a force field. He had a decent shot at two of the armsmen laying down fire. They wore carapace armour just like he did and they were armed with automatic shotcannons and hellguns. Good weapons for a situation like this. Hethor squeezed the trigger of his own gun.

Star hot plasma fired from his rifle's lower barrel. The brilliant violet bolts blew through their breastplates and reduced their torsos to char. A third man rose, his shotcannon coming to bear. The plasma gun whined, its capacitor's discharged and steam blasting out of the cooling vents. Hethor thumbed a control and shot him in the face three times with the hellgun attachment. The corpse fell backwards. Marr and Stenlitz rushed to join him.

He sent a plasma grenade up the corridor. "Fifteen meters," said Marr. Hethor grunted in respose and rushed forward, towards the roiling mass of flames that was slowly contracting. He dived forward, passing through the edge of the cloud and into the mass of armsmen that had been driven partially into retreat.

He fired a burst into the closest one's chest. The first two of tightly group mass of shots cracked and holed the armour in one small place. The third and fourth burned through. Flesh exploded. A hand pushed his rifle down. The quarters were too close anyway. Another was drawing a pistol. A third had a combat knife and was striking for the gaps in his neck armour.

Heth kicked the third into the wall and drew the weapon holstered on the left side of his chest. His thumb triggered the activation rune. The archeotech power sword flared into life, projecting a meter long blade of blue light.

The grabby guy was bringing his own shotcannon to bear. Hethor shattered his gun and then stabbed him in the face. The power blade emerged from the back of his victim's helmet in a spray of blood.

Marr came around the corner. The armsman with the pistol fired. He was carrying a large caliber slugger loaded with armour piercing rounds. Marr fell to the deck, blood pouring from his neck. Stenlitz shot the armsman a half dozen times in the chest. He fell to the deck.

Hethor removed the knife fighter's right arm at the elbow, disembowled him, and then took off the top of his helmet at about eye level. Blood and brains splattered the deck. Hethor killed the power sword and returned it to its sheath as he picked up his rifle.

Marr was in a bad way. "Sorry about this," said Hethor as he took the psi tracker from the dying man. He loped down the corridor. Stenlitz started to follow and then fell twitching. Hethor turned to look back and then carried on.

An armsmen popped around the corner. A pair of shells bounced off the refractor field. An eye searing violet beam turned most of the armsman's chest to ash. The capacitor's whined softly as they charged again. Hethor rounded the corner.

Three men stood between Eraine Gersh and Hethor D'eckor. A hail of gunfire went both ways. Plasma bolts burned down two of them, a hellbeam from the third penetrated Hethor's refractor field and lanced his armoured left hand. Tissue burst away from the wound and smoke rose from the hole in his hand. He raised the rifle one handed and walked hellguns beams up from the man's sternum to his nose. The third man fell.

Eraine Gersh looked upon him with mild curiousity as he dropped the rifle. It would take too long for the capacitors to charge and too ackward to use one handed. He drew his bolt pistol and raised it. Or tried to. The muzzle pointed at the floor.

"I don't think so," said Eraine. Hethor took a step toward her. And another. "Drop the gun." The gun slid from Hethor's hand. He drew the power sword and took another step.

"Drop it!" she commanded. The sword slipped from Hethor's fingers and he took another step. She drew her own bolt pistol and Hethor stepped closer. The gun came to bear on Hethor D'eckor and his left hand pushed it aside. "Stay back!"

His right hand closed around her throat. "No," he rasped. "Time for you to die."

[Comosicus]

Hethor is one badass motherf****r. Does he have any psychic shielding or is just extremely strong willed?

[Imperial Overlord]

Hethor is one badass motherf****r. Does he have any psychic shielding or is just extremely strong willed?

Strong will, conditioning, and the amulet with hexagrammic wards mentioned earlier.

[Imperial Overlord]

Brokk's psycannon shell grazed the side of Gix's helmet and bounced off. Jolan stepped sideways, taking cover behind one of the massive and frozen heavy weapon servitors. Telekinesis dropped a pair of blind grenades just in front of the servitors and more psycannon rounds smashed into the servitor in front of Gix.

"Russ's teeth," Brokk swore as dark smoke and jamming obscured his view. "Kill him!" he ordered as he opened fire with his gauntlet mounted grenade launcher, sending haywire grenades up the corridor. The Untouchables opened up on full auto, armour piercing shells piercing layers of ceramite plate to shred flesh and augments. Blood and fluids spilled from their ravaged bodies and they toppled to the deck.

Jolan catapulted backwards, propelled by a rush of psychic power. He needed to regroup and plan a counterattack. He drew his inferno pistol, a horrifically lethal weapon well suited to combat in short corridors. He landed at the corner. Energy discharges from bursting haywire grenades crawled over his armour. His conversion field hadn't gone off. Everything went dark and he was falling.

Gix's power armour had become a tomb. The inquisitor fought down panic with action. He could just make out the sounds of slugs impacting on the walls nearby. He reached out with his will. Cables withdrew from the interface bodyglove he wore to control the power armour. The armour's plaston opened and he wrapped himself in a aura of psychic force. He flew up, out of the armour and darted into the next corridor.

Brokk stepped through the clouds of dense smoke emitted by the blind grenades and snarled when he saw Jolan's empty power armour. The little bastard wouldn't stay still and die! He rushed down the corridor, his Untouchables following him as closely as they could. All was far from lost. In his power armour he could run down Gix, who couldn't have gotten very far. The haywire grenade had stripped Gix of all his weapons and defences. He was just delaying the inevitable.

Brokk's autosenses caught the sound of metal tearing. Jolan was trying the force the secured hatch. Brokk rounded the corner at a run, bouncing off the wall in his haste. A massive object rushed towards him. The hatch, three hundred kilos of hard metal coming straight at him. Gix had riped it out of the wall and thrown it telekinetically. It was going very, very fast.

The Untouchables had no power over momentum or kinetic energy, just the ability to disrupt warp connections that were no longer relevant. The leading edge of the door struck Brokk in the right hand, knocking his psycannon out of his hand. Then the rest of the door smashed into him. The iron laws of the conservation of momentum sent them both smashing back into the wall.

The Untouchables were only a few steps behind their master. They rounded the corner to see their master lying stunned on the deck and Gix floating in the air, surrounded by a corona of emerald light. Lightning flashed around him. They opened fire. Bullets bounced off the walls and floors a meter from Gix.

They advanced. Jolan extended his hands and a ball of swirling, white hot flames materialized in front of him. He fed power into the flames and they swelled and grew as he fed air into the growing blaze. The warp fed blaze was so hot the air itself ignited. It rapidly swelled up to block the corridor. The Untouchables approached.

He flung the mass of burning air at them. His power failed just before it struck them, but it was enough. Flame enshrouded them and they fell screaming.

Brokk got to his feet as a hammer of heat washed over him. His armour's autosenses clearly showed the charred masses that had been his Untouchables lying on the fire scared deck. Gix still stood, shrouded in psychic power.

He ordered his grenade launcher to load psyk out grenades, but got nothing but an amber malfunction rune. The hatch's impact must have damaged it. His psycannon was out of reach. He would have to finish this up close and personal.

He drew his chain axe, a forty centimeter blade connected to another forty centimeters of handle. Hexagrammic and pentagrammic runes covered the blade. He flicked the activation rune and charged.

He was protected by power armour, faith, hexagrammic wards, and mental conditioning. All he had to do was close the distance and swing. Easy.

The lightning around Gix died. The sorcerer raised his right hand as Brokk rushed towards him. His eyes glowed gold and sky-blue lighting crackled over his arm. Brokk raised his axe in preparation for his swing.

Pink flames burst from Jolan's outstretched hand. They struck Brokk full force in the breastplate. It held as pink fire continued to lash the inquisitor Brokk took a step. His hexagrammic wards were red hot. And another. The axe began to fall.

The wards began to melt. An invisible hand picked Brokk up and held him up, three meters from Jolan Gix. Just out of reach. His breastplate gave way like wax under a blow torch. Brokk had one brief moment of searing agony before the fire consumed him utterly. His power armour fell to the deck, containing only ash and blackened bone.

Jolan gently dropped to the deck. Only his own shields prevented the forces he had unleashed from cooking him in his own skin. He sent his mind outward, looking for a friendly contact. His telepathy was still a poor thing, but in this instance it would serve.

Lydia, he sent.

My lord? she replied.

Brokk is dead, but I am alone and unarmed. Send someone to me.

Keys should be with you shortly. Brokk's assassin and interrogator have been killed.

Thank you. Use your authority to send for reinforcement from the station. Tell them its a mutiny and secure the sanctum area with our own people. He broke contact. Victory tasted so very, very sweet.

[Brain_Caster]

Victory is sweet indeed, but it seems to me Jolan's plans pretty much went down the drain this time. He wasn't really prepared for the Eversor or the fact that his opponent had specialized weaponry to take out his servitors.

In the end it was only pure psychic power that got him through. It will be interesting to see if and what consequences he draws from this battle.

[Imperial Overlord]

Victory is sweet indeed, but it seems to me Jolan's plans pretty much went down the drain this time. He wasn't really prepared for the Eversor or the fact that his opponent had specialized weaponry to take out his servitors.

In the end it was only pure psychic power that got him through. It will be interesting to see if and what consequences he draws from this battle.

1) Brokk had literally decades to study Jolan and make preparations. And he still lost.

2) Brokk suceeded in taking out the servitors and daemonhosts, but only by bringing to bear an considerable amount of rare and specialized equipment and by having things go his way.

3) There's not much you can do to prepare for an Eversor.

4) You'll see Jolan's reactions in the near future.

[Raj Ahten]

1) Brokk had literally decades to study Jolan and make preparations. And he still lost.

Heh, maybe he wasn't being paranoid enough. He also seemed to be quite overconfident. Throughout the fight he was thinking how he couldn't lose, and how he was going to slaughter Gix easily with his next move.

If I was taking on Gix after decades of study I'd take more than a few Untouchables with me into the fight, for one. (But I'm not an asshat obsessed with my own power like Brokk was).

[Dominus]

I like the way you brought this story arc to a most decisive conclusion, IO. The loss of the commissar, Batista and a good number of Jolan's retinue (and not a few stormtroopers, as well) will be felt keenly, I imagine, and make this a suitably Pyrrhic victory in traditional 40k fashion. I'm glad that you decided to kill Brokk the way you did, nevertheless--overconfidence is ever the downfall of power-mad inquisitors. And I, for one, found his demise to be deeply satisfying, to quote a nameless Elite from Halo 2.

If nothing else, at least Hethor's still around, but I don't think anyone else from Gix's original retinue has lasted quite so long. You just can't kill that veteran sergeant, I suppose.

[Imperial Overlord]

Heh, maybe he wasn't being paranoid enough. He also seemed to be quite overconfident. Throughout the fight he was thinking how he couldn't lose, and how he was going to slaughter Gix easily with his next move.

If I was taking on Gix after decades of study I'd take more than a few Untouchables with me into the fight, for one. (But I'm not an asshat obsessed with my own power like Brokk was).

Imperial Inquisitors tend to be extremely confident, they need to be to do their job. And Brokk was worse than most, a man of such hubris that he believed the changes he created were worth monstrous mass murders.

[Imperial Overlord]

Hethor D'eckor stepped over the blood stained patch of the carpet and approached Jolan Gix. The inquisitor had taken over Brokk's personal quarters as soon as the area was secured. With the help of Gard Vikal he had begun going through Brokk's personal effects.

The room was tacky to Hethor's eyes. Lumen's held in casings that resembled golden lanterns hung from the ceiling on gilded chains. Gold framed mirrors hung on the walls and gold scrollwork covered the decorative white marble pillars and furnishings made from exotic woods. Gix sat on an overstuffed couch, his stormcoat next to him, and a portable cogitator and a stack of papers on top of the blood red table of Vitrian glass.

"Boss," said Hethor.

Jolan looked up. "Yes Heth?" The inquisitor was still wearing his interface bodyglove, but had added a weapon harness with a refractor field to it.

"Mop up is goin' well. Naval Security comin' through."

"And?" asked Jolan.

Hethor dropped a sheat of paper in front of Jolan. "Our butcher bill."

Jolan picked it up and scanned it swiftly. "Damn," he said softly. "Too many names."

"Yeah," said Hethor. Jolan dropped the sheat of paper and and bowed his head for a moment. Hethor stood in silence.

"Damn it!" Jolan roared. He took a deep breath. "Alright. We lost good people. Friends. They'll get a proper remembrance."

"Boss?" said Hethor. He coudl tell from Jolan's voice that there was something else there.

"My fault, some of it. Brokk studied me, prepared for me. He had a team ready to kill us. He even anticipated the damned daemonhosts. All that work appearing to be a moderate Puritan wasted when he starts thinking about what I might have picked up in all that time chasing the Rising Phoenix."

"And we still killed him for it boss," said Heth. "We don't work the way we do by accident. We do it because it works."

"And it almost didn't," said Jolan. "He hit us damn hard and he's been talking to the Psy King."

"Yeah, that could be a problem. How's this stuff goin'?"

"A lot of data, most of it only circumstantially incriminating. Enough to confirm the burn though. And some recent communications, not yet destroyed. One of his associates, a former interrogator by the name of Aledail thinks he's uncovered a Dark Age tech cache."

"Are we headed there?"

"Probably. Varian and Novum haven't exactly been circumspect with their distribution of Adraxian tech. Some of the Mechanicus have noticed and aren't happy. They're suspicious. That could sink the whole enterprise. However, if we reclaim a Dark Age cache and drop it into the hands of our Mechanicus allies they can use the extra leverage to kill that fire."

"Always thinkin' boss."

Gard Vikal walked in from an adjoining room and dropped a handful of data slates on a corner of the table. "Circumstantial evidence. Useful, but nothing new," he said. He inclined his head towards Hethor. "D'eckor."

"The hand is fine so far."

"I should look at it again tomorrow," said Gard.

"Fine," said Hethor.

"Is there anything else you need from me inquisitor?" Gard asked.

"Not at the moment," said Gix. "Be prepared to transfer your patients to the Eternal Will. We're going to leave as soon as it arrives. We have a few loose ends to tie up."

[Raj Ahten]

"And it almost didn't," said Jolan. "He hit us damn hard and he's been talking to the Psy King."

Ah, the Psy King. He's always been my favourite antagonist from this fic. Can't wait to see what happens to him. (hopefully something quick and painfull, such as Gix's fire hitting him.)

[Imperial Overlord]

"And it almost didn't," said Jolan. "He hit us damn hard and he's been talking to the Psy King."

Ah, the Psy King. He's always been my favourite antagonist from this fic. Can't wait to see what happens to him. (hopefully something quick and painfull, such as Gix's fire hitting him.)

Nothing actually. Although the tentative title for the next flick involving Jolan Gix is "The Blood of Kings", although I might change it or Latin it up.

[Raj Ahten]

"And it almost didn't," said Jolan. "He hit us damn hard and he's been talking to the Psy King."

Ah, the Psy King. He's always been my favourite antagonist from this fic. Can't wait to see what happens to him. (hopefully something quick and painfull, such as Gix's fire hitting him.)

Nothing actually. Although the tentative title for the next flick involving Jolan Gix is "The Blood of Kings", although I might change it or Latin it up.

I'm sad to see this fic go, but the title of the next piece sounds Awesome. (as awesome as it can sound from just a tentative title, anyway). Though I wouldn't mind at all if the Psy KIng stays on the loose. Gix can't deal with every crisis or cultist.

[Imperial Overlord]

+++Journal of Kyra Neven+++

Date: 3375005.M42

Jolan Gix has been gone for two years. His last communication placed him enroute to the shrine world of Ophilia VII after having resolved the Mandrassi Harrowing and brought its perpetrators to justice. I don't know what he was doing at Ophilia, but I do know that shortly after he would have arrived Inquisitors Ristani, Novum, and Varian began calling in almost every favor they possessed and amassing a huge force of Imperial Guard, Navy, and Space Marines. An Ecclesiarchy force lead by Living Saint Lena Novadlorian was also assembled. All the members of the Adraxian conspiracy. Admiral Severa Valin also takes a leave of absence at about this time.

The combined fleet is spotted in three different locations before vanishing near the Eye of Terror. Shortly thereafter a very large Tyranid splinter fleet ends up diving into the Eye of Terror. I do not believe this to be a coincidence.

I don't know the details of whatever mad plan they concocted, but it appears to have worked, at least in part. None of the vessels that make up the fleet have been seen again. At this point I can only assume they are stranded in the Eye or dead. Realistically, there is little hope that they will ever stand again in the Emperor's Light, despite their heroic service to the Imperium. That is a bitter pill to swallow.

May the Emperor watch over their souls and, if they live, guide them back to safety.

[Imperial Overlord]

And that's it folks, I'm done.

[gunldesnapper]

Welp, i have to say that this is the finest fanfic i have read. I loved your characters and story. I hope you get published.