The Lure of Pleasure and Pain

Chapter 2: A City in Flames


Nash Kraven crouched in the dirt and rubble of the old brothel. He had owned the club for the past six years. It was a prize won in a card game. It was either that or the man’s daughter. The man didn’t seem too willing to part with his daughter, so Nash ended up with the man’s club. Most of the girls had been taken without so much as a shot being fired. He had known them all personally. He would have called them all friends, and now they were gone.


He hated the bastards who had attacked the place he now called home. For twenty eight years he had travelled from system to system, from the day he was born he had been a traveller. At the age of 14 his parents were taken as slaves by one of the slaving cartels. He had managed to escape, but he never saw his nomadic space faring people again. For several years he lived among the gangs on the hive world Erigon IX. The capital city of Radaghan was one of the deadliest places in the system, but he had survived.


At eighteen he had escaped the city aboard a smugglers ship. When they caught him, impressed with his skill at getting on board in the first place, they offered him a job. For the next ten years he travelled with some of the worst criminals in the system. All were bloodthirsty killers and none had even the slightest hint of morality. He had seen them do terrible things he only wished to forget. But he had also taken part in some of those things, he hated himself for that. But it was already done, and he was tired of hating himself.


At twenty eight his ship landed here on Erigon XIV. After winning the club, he bought himself out of the smuggling cartel. He thought it better that than have bounty hunters on his back for the rest of his life. It was costly but worth every credit.


He was now thirty four, almost thirty five. He had thought himself finally settled. He was even planning to settle down with one of the exotic dancers, Shelana. She was crouched next to him in the dirt. She looked terrified, as was to be expected they all knew the enemy they now faced. He had seen this before, she had led a peaceful and trouble free life. He hated that he couldn’t promise to keep her safe, but he would try.


Nash had the heavy blaster ready to slaughter anything that walked through the door. It had cost him a month’s credits when he was working the smuggling routes. But he always knew the peace wouldn’t last. Although he had expected imperial troops to be his enemy, not these vile creatures.


He had a bag full of eleven clips as well as two grenade belts. Some were incendiary and armour piercing grenades. A force axe taken from a fallen imperial officer, at the battle of Keltus V. It was a small hive world where his ship had been blockaded by an imperial cruiser. They had helped the hivers defeat the invaders. And then they had escaped before the cruiser pounded the city with orbital nukes. There was nothing left, imperial bastards he thought.


He handed the trembling Shelana a bolter pistol and several clips. She looked scared but listened intently as he instructed her. She looked out of place in her short dancing costume, strange that they were still in the club.


The other survivors he had gathered together included three other dancers, six of the brothel girls, four bouncers, all armed with bolt pistols and close assault shotguns. Nash kept them well armed, sometimes things got dangerous in the club. There were around thirty or so patrons that had managed to avoid capture by hiding in the wine cellar. A few were armed with small handguns, but nothing that would pierce armour if the need arose.


The remains of a planetary guard platoon had sought refuge in the ruins of the brothel. Nine were still alive and without injury, though their ammunition was severely depleted. Three were wounded and in need of medical attention. The rest of the thirty-man platoon was dead. The highest rank among them was a young and very scared corporal. They seemed to be listening to Nash more than to him. He didn’t seem to care, happy to let someone else have the responsibility.


A handful of civilians had found their way into the brothel. Some of them would have never even contemplated walking through the clubs doors before the attack. But here they were, huddled together alongside hookers, heavies, dancers, customers and troopers. They all had one thing in common, they all wanted to survive. There were sixteen of them in total, none were armed, just scared. There were five children among them. Nash couldn’t believe that children were forced to hide out in a place like this. But he supposed one ruin was much like another and at least he could offer them some protection unlike the poor unfortunate souls taken already by the chaos hordes.


With around seventy people to keep calm and quiet, he was beginning to think he was taking on just slightly too much. He was a scoundrel, a lovable rogue, not a leader. But no one else seemed to want the job, and he couldn’t refuse to help them. Perhaps in his heart he felt as though this were his one chance at redemption for his past actions.


The gunfire in the streets below seemed to be intensifying. After almost three hours of nothing they would be mopping up the last of the resistance. It sounded like a mortar shell crashing into the street below. The impact shook the walls of the brothel, and the terrified group of survivors began to panic, some were crying, others had to be warned not to scream lest they give away their position.


The only thing he could think of was to enter the sewers. There was a tunnel that had been used to escape government raids and for smuggling purposes. It was built into the wine cellar, and had been sealed when the sewers were overrun by mutants several years earlier. But it would only take a well placed charge to remove the seal, lucky he had one in his bag of tricks.


He had already emptied his safe of anything that was valuable. And with over half a million credits and various documents in the safe, he couldn’t afford to leave them behind. He also took the diamond ring he was going to give Shelana. He wouldn’t give it to her unless they made it out of here alive. Or perhaps he needed to, he was unsure how he felt at present.


The thought of going into the tunnels was almost as daunting as staying in the brothel. But it was only a matter of time before one of those shells tore the building to pieces. He gathered everyone around and prepared to tell them what he proposed.


As he explained what he intended to do, some of them seemed visibly horrified at the thought. Some even refused to go, to which he had replied. “Anyone who wishes to can stay here and take their chances. It’s your choice. I can’t force you to go. But I’m going to blow the entrance once we’re inside the tunnel. So if you’re coming, you’ve got to leave with me.”


It took several minutes but all eventually agreed to follow him. He was noticeably relieved. He didn’t want to leave anyone behind. Nash and the bouncers led the way, they had to check the way was clear. All was going well until he saw a group of four mutant soldiers checking the ground floor. He signalled for them all to stop. He took the power axe from the bag and watched as it rezzed into life, its electrical energy whirring along its blade.


The bouncers drew what looked more like double sided short swords than combat knifes. At almost two feet long they looked deadly in the hands of a trained killer. With blasters in one hand and short swords in the other, they slung the shotguns over their shoulders, and prepared for hand to hand combat. Nash readied the axe, he would need both hands to use it, but it would be worth it if they could surprise the mutants.


He dropped the heavy bolter with his equipment bag and signalled for Shelana to watch it. She was gaining confidence from his actions, she had never thought of him in this manner. And she could only try and imagine what he had done before they met. This was no typical club owner.


The mutants passed underneath him. A gaping hole in the floor provided him with an excellent vantage point from which to spy on them. When one looked up he dropped the ten feet to the floor swinging the axe down into the closest mutant, he landed like he had done it before, the axe cleaved the skull in half of the target mutant. It swung around and caught a second in the arm, the bouncer Haris, a seven foot giant dropped next, the short sword plunged up and under the jaw of the mutant who turned to face him. It pierced the top of his skull and it attempted to shriek, until a well placed fist shattered the front of its face. Haris pulled the blade from his target as it fell to the floor dead.


The other two mutants turned and readied their bolt rifles. Dremin and Lyrak dropped next, both behind their targets. With two on each mutant they wrestled them to the ground, overpowering them, and then slit their throats as they struggled.


Jarick the last of the bouncers was the only one to see the fifth mutant enter the room. He launched the short sword at the vile looking creature. It entered his stomach and knocked it back. It was enough for Nash to close the distance and send the axe screaming into its shoulder. The axe exited at it’s hip, cleaving it into two pieces, killing it instantly.


The bouncers looked at each other and then at Nash. They knew he was a hard ass, but hadn’t expected this. He looked back at them and grinned, knowing what they were thinking, little did they know this was child’s play compared to what he had once been used to.


They gathered up the bolter rifles and ammunition. This was a good start, five rifles and 23 clips between them. He shared them out the best he could. And then they continued checking for any remaining mutants. He was surprised at how poorly trained the mutants were, but knew they couldn’t be complacent. Marines were a whole new experience, and he hoped they didn’t meet any, that was one thing he could do without.


When they had checked the building thoroughly, they brought the other survivors down stairs, and quickly moved them to the cellar. He had almost forgotten that he had nine able bodied troopers at his disposal. It felt good not to be on the opposite side for once.


He gave the bolt rifle to one of the club patrons he new personally. He was a smuggler back in the days when they were both active, and now a respectable merchant, his name was Vendrith. He was a sly and unscrupulous man, but also a tough bastard who would hold his ground under fire. He handed him three clips, the others had taken five each.


Nash retrieved his heavy bolter and got one of the patrons to carry his equipment bag. After that display no one seemed unsure any more. The man willingly took the bag, and followed Nash.


After setting the charges and blowing the door into the tunnel, Nash set a series of charges around the entrance. When they were all at a safe distance down the tunnel, he detonated the charges, bringing down tons of rubble over the sewer entrance. There was no way back now, only forward into the sewers. He didn’t want to think what may lie ahead of them. They had managed to grab what provisions they could carry from the cellar and the kitchens. But it would last them a few days at best, still it was better than nothing.


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Chrystania knelt in the entrance of what was once the subway station. Her employer was dead, the other bodyguards killed or captured. She had a captured bolt rifle, seven clips of rifle ammunition, her own needler pistol and five clips of needler ammunition. She checked to make sure the weapons were fully loaded and working. The combat knife she had taken from a fallen trooper, it was all she was willing to carry, it should be enough she thought.


She observed the area in front of the subway station. She was well hidden behind fallen slabs of concrete and metal beams, there didn’t seem to be anyone else alive in the entranceway, though there were certainly hundreds of bodies.


The buildings in front of the station were being literally shredded by continuous bolter and las-gun fire. As well as shells from armoured vehicles, mortars and rocket launchers, leaving little standing and very little alive.


It was a killing zone, and nothing entering it would live. She wished she could help the defenders, but it would be futile, she headed back into the subway. It seemed to have escaped attention so far. Those that had survived had long since entered the station. She would still have to be careful of gangs and stray enemy troops. Maybe they had entered the station from a different direction.


No one moved as she stepped over the fallen bodies. Most were civilians. It looked like they had been executed. None were armed except for the occasional trooper. She knelt over next to one of the troopers and retrieved a flash light, and a handful of grenades. Though grenades inside a subway station was not a great idea, only a last resort.


She wrestled a woman’s leather shoulder bag from her lifeless corpse and placed eight grenades inside, along with all but one of the rifle clips. It was a sturdy bag and held the weight with no problem.


Her needler ammo was clipped to her belt as usual, the needler in its holster on her right side. The knife in its sheath on her left side, the rifle strap she flung over her other shoulder and then she prepared to move out.


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Captain Josiah Urichon of the planetary guard lay face down. He carried his blaster pistol in his left hand while he scrambled desperately with his right to find a full clip. He managed to replace the empty clip but was rewarded with a volley of las gun and las cannon fire. He rolled out of the way just in time as half a dozen shots would have torn him to pieces. He kept rolling towards the metal plating barricade, and managed to reach it as a hail of bolter fire tore up the tarmac road.


Josiah’s company had been pinned at the military depot for the past four hours. He had started with almost three hundred troopers. He had two hundred and twenty five remaining. The siuation wasn’t too bad he thought considering the onslaught they had faced. They had defended well, but the enemy were now bringing up more troops. He reckoned there must now be over two thousand troops surrounding his position. They wouldn’t wait much longer to launch an all out assault, his men would be slaughtered.


Josiah ordered a full withdrawal back into the depot. He had held off the order for too long, it just meant there was no where left to retreat to once they were inside. The troopers fell back in an orderly fashion, they were veterans of the Erigon XIV Marsh Wars, and knew their way around a battlefield.


Lieutenant Lucita Farrachi was the first platoon leader to reach the depot. Most of her fifty troopers had survived. They were a heavy weapons detachment, more used to supporting than close up fighting. Though the heavy bolters were useful wherever they were deployed. They had heavy flamers, missile launchers, heavy bolters, plasma throwers, and grenade launchers, as well as thirty or so troopers with the standard issue bolter rifles. The depot would give them the chance to load up on supplies and ammunition if it wasn’t destroyed first. Though she thought the enemy would prefer to capture it, that’s why it must still be relatively unscathed.


Sergeant Benito Danatarso was next to reach the depot. His lieutenant had died hours ago, which left him in command of the thirty seven survivors of his close assault platoon. Close assault shotguns, bolter pistols, grenades, light flamers and swords were their weapons of choice.


Lieutenant Arietta Malanis was next leading a full fifty strong unit of various platoons. She had integrated them together to turn them into an effective fighting force. They had fought back wave after wave, the heavy weapons, and close assault troopers integrating well together.


Captain Josiah followed with a further ninety or so troopers. They were the remnants of various units. They had suffered constant pounding and were almost out of ammunition. All looked relieved to be entering the armoured depot. The captain had two lieutenants with him. Timus Pharadu and Wilhelm Richelau, both were from different companies, but neither had more than a handful of men left to command. This left them with little to do other than follow the captain’s orders and join his men.


As the last of the troops entered the depot, the heavy steel blast doors closed behind them. Josiah was certain it would be a close assault rather than a pounding. Though there was little left in the way of armoured vehicles, they had either escaped or been taken by the imperial forces before the invasion had begun., He counted six rhinos, four light tanks and one heavy tank remaining in the depot. It once housed over three hundred vehicles, one of ten depots dotted around the city, all would have been emptied like this one, it seemed too much of a coincidence he thought that there was virtually nothing left to defend the city. Someone must have betrayed them, but whom, or maybe he was just being paranoid.


Once the troops were safely behind the blast doors, he ordered them all to the armouries. They were to take whatever ammunition they could carry, replace damaged weapons and take what supplies they needed. He wanted them to be ready, and arguing about food rations would achieve nothing. They seemed pleased, it was a relief. He wanted them to be prepared when the blast doors fell.


The main depot area for storing vehicles was left as an unoccupied killing zone. With firing arcs across the entire width from defensive positions along the inner building, like almost every other building in Drayden, his only escape was into the sewers. It was a last resort but he would take it if necessary. He had a detachment of ten troopers with heavy weapons enter the sewers and gave them orders to clear a path if need be. But they were to be mindful of other survivors who may have escaped into the sewers. Wilhelm Richelau offered to lead the sewer detachment, stating he would be more use leading something than as a spare part that wasn’t needed. Josiah agreed with him and gave him the command, the troopers were relieved, they knew his fierce reputation, and were thankful of the help.


After second thoughts, he ordered the three lieutenants and their platoons into the sewers, with the orders to escape if possible. The captain intended to stay with around eighty of his troopers and mount a token defence. Lieutenant Timus Pharadu offered to lead them in the captain’s place. Stating it would be a great honour to lead the remnants against the hordes that would follow. And that the troops needed their captain with them.


So with around one hundred and fifty of the remaining troops, Josiah entered the sewers. The entrance was mined with numerous explosive charges. It was enough to bring the sewers down on top of those in the immediate vicinity. But it meant the remaining men were trapped, but it was necessary to slow down the enemy, so he had no choice.


Timus arranged the remaining vehicles and his heavy weapons crews into a formidable yet small defensive force. They would kill many but they would all die. They all knew their fate, but all knew death was preferable to capture. The entrance to the depot was mined along with routes through the depot that would be used to reach the sewer entrance, anything to slow the attackers down.


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Kasandra Liu stood in the ruins of what was once the police precinct. With her were Jeremiah Lucien, Mathias Lucien, Eridani Mathar, Simona Nevalis, and Rudan Sura. They had come for their leader if she still lived, Erika Nyamis, scourge of the Erigon trade lanes. She had been captured while visiting her family. She had been transferred here to their maximum security cells. Though no one seemed left alive, the cells were underground however, so chances are she could still be alive.


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Ileana and Kelbor Varez hid in the rubble strewn alley. They were brother and sister. They were twenty one year old twins, visiting their mother when the attacked sent them scurrying for cover. They had gathered a few survivors with them, Lani, Jamil, and Hamed Zartuane, aged eighteen, sixteen, and thirteen. Wenda Faru aged fifteen. And Hali Denvari aged nineteen. They all stood over the sewer grate contemplating whether to enter. The sound of approaching footsteps followed by high pitched grunts left them in doubt they would not survive long if they remained above ground in the ruined city.


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Imperial agents Kioku Ricaraz and Rayan Shamez wandered through the imperial records of the consular building. Everything was set alight. Nothing could be allowed to fall into enemy hands. They tossed EMP grenades to fry the circuits of the computerised storage devices. Then used hand flamers to torch anything that could be set alight. Finally they exited and tossed incendiary and frag grenades into the records storage area, the blast shook the walls around them as they moved further into the building.


Both women had posed as mid level management employees at the consulate. When the attack began they reverted to their imperial roles of spy, infiltrator and assassin. They had always worked as a pair, and now was no different, for the past twelve years, since the age of twenty, they had done the bidding of their imperial commanders. They were connected directly to the office of the notorious imperial commissar Imalia Kryenn. She was a woman with a reputation for her devotion to the emperor and for her merciless behaviour. They were her favourite agents, and most capable killers. They were pleased their time as office girls was now over and the real mission had finally begun. The mission was to locate, and capture or eliminate all traitorous threats to the Imperium on Erigon XIV. And if necessary to call in a planetary bombardment to cleanse the planet of the taint of chaos.


Inquisitor Parisia Nardu stood waiting for her imperial contacts to arrive. Her small entourage had secured the meeting area in the consular building. Her presence was unknown to all but the two imperial agents. She had one mission, to locate the traitor who had brought the forces of Slannesh to the Erigon Prime star system.


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Commander Vrishitar Jesemari of the Slannesh 103rd Defiler Legion strode arrogantly through the scorched remains of the 3rd Armoured Depot. Fifty six prisoners knelt on the floor of the depot, the commander was not so much as he or she as an it. The creature bore the features of both male and female, a row of breasts reached from its neck to its stomach down its left side, the right side would have been male in appearance were it not wearing the armour of the space marine. But the armour seemed almost alive, like it had moulded itself to the creature’s body. The creature was indeed beautiful in appearance, but it carried the stench of death and corruption like a well worn piece of clothing.


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General Graknashir Urixialia of the Slannesh Assault Forces of the 36th Slannesh Defiler Army looked over the front of his land raider armoured fighting vehicle. The heavy steel blast doors to the 8th armoured depot were closed and barred the way of his assault forces. Weapons would cause too much destruction here, he wanted the depots intact. The massive machine pulled up directly behind the land raider detachment, it was a menacing piece of mechanical genius, a heavy and massive construction and demolition vehicle, used for building and destroying the most powerful of defences. Its heavy front mounted boring machine was capable of penetrating the steel blast doors, it would take time but it would be the least destructive option.


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Battalion Commander Horzu Vrex of the Slannesh 103rd Defiler Legion led his five hundred strong detachment of close assault troops into the entrance of the 12th planetary guard barracks. The initial barrage took down fifty of his forward troopers, those who screamed his officers shot. Those who lay and wallowed in their pain he allowed to be taken back to the field medics. Such was the insanity of the chaos legions.


Within minutes they were upon the defenders, frightened men and women who were reluctant to face their screaming enraged enemies. Half of them broke and ran back into the barracks before the chaos forces could reach them. The rest lasted no more than ten minutes in an orgy of blood and defilement. There were no survivors, just those that died instantly and those who didn’t. The screams of those that didn’t will remain in the minds of those who escaped for the rest of their lives.


With half of his regiment already captured or killed, Colonel Grishan Gent, had just lost almost half of the remainder. That left him around eight hundred troops to defend the barracks, out of more than the three thousand he had started with. He sat back in his chair and looked at his young captains and lieutenants. Major Raina Jameson stood watching him, she had an idea what was coming next. And if it didn’t she would be tempted to shoot the incompetent bastard herself.


He raised the bolter pistol, turned it and blew his brains out all over the wall behind him, everyone but the major reacted. She looked in disgust and then said to a couple of the nearby troopers. “Remove that thing from my presence. It doesn’t deserve to be in the company of real soldiers.” They walked up and dragged the corpse out of the room without question. It was a whole new game with the major in charge, and they knew she wouldn’t hesitate in shooting them.


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Nadir Asher walked point. The heavy flamer stripped from a planetary guardsman. Behind her were the mercenary captain Zemian Devier, and his band of eighteen mercenaries. The rest of his crew and mercenary battalion were still on Erigon XI, they had only come here to finalise a business deal, and found themselves caught up in this mess. He had lost fifteen of his mercenaries in the battle to reach the sewers. It had been a relief to finally get out of the firing line of both sides. No one seemed interested whose side they were on.


As Nadir walked around the wide bend she noticed what at first appeared to be dozens, but as she got further around the bend it soon turned into hundreds of people. All were huddled together, many were crying, some were wounded, a few were dying, there didn’t seem to be anyone in charge, no one to speak to, and none of them offered any sign of a threat, they were just too scared.


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Captain Jedsar Hyan looked at the burning city from the peak of the craggy hill. At the bottom of the narrow valley were the remnants of everyone he had managed to gather together, sixteen trucks, seven of which contained supplies and water, nine contained around thirty people each. Two rhino troop transports held point. Each had a ten trooper unit inside. The tops were covered in planetary guardsmen. He counted around twenty four in total. So with the crew of each around fifty troopers for the two vehicles.


At the rear a light tank guarded their retreat, it carried a squad of heavy weapons troopers. All had their weapons trained on the approach to their position, a squad of twelve scout riders and sniper pillion riders waited alongside the trucks. It was a poor excuse for a fighting unit but he had well over three hundred people under his command, admittedly most were unarmed civilians, but that was just a minor setback.


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The main shopping precinct had not yet been touched by enemy fire. Several thousand people remained trapped inside. There was at best a few security guards armed with bolter pistols, no one seemed to know what to do. Stephanu and Nanetta were celebrating their wedding when they became trapped on the planet. They should have been on one of the transports, but couldn’t get there in time, before departure.


“Stephanu, someone needs to take control. Or all these people are going to die.” Nanetta suggested to her husband.


“Are you suggesting I try to take control, why would they listen to me?”


“Because you own one of the largest space transport companies in the system. People do what you ask them to do. It’s got to be better than waiting here for the inevitable.”


“I knew it wasn’t just for your looks when I married you.” He teased.


“Stephanu not here, don’t embarrass me in public. Wait till were alone, if we ever get the chance again.”


“I’ll speak to the security guards, and try to find some of the exits. Maybe we can persuade them to open the gun shops. We could at least arm ourselves then.”


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Sergeant Isaiah Frandashorn held the research labs below the Far Horizons Corporation’s main tower building. They had held the upper floors with a combined force of over nine hundred troopers. Five hundred remained in the upper floors, keeping at bay more than five thousand mutant soldiers. It was impressive while ever they didn’t use artillery against the building, then it would be a massacre.


He led three thirty man units into the labs. His intention was to find a way out of the building, he had heard there was a series of old tunnels that connected to the hills in the deepest part of the labs. A single unit of commandeered heavy weapons troopers led the way. Giving him one hundred men exactly. Not bad for a sergeant, but most of the officers were either dead or needed in the main building, so it was left to him.

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Katelynne Zereman was a high ranking official in the city government. Her bodyguards Jonah and Nadia crouched on either side of her, bolt pistols ready and aimed forward. As the first mutant troopers rounded the corner the bodyguards opened fire. Their employer remained calm, she had hired them to protect her, and she expected no less than their best. Though even she knew that was asking a lot under the circumstances.


They actually appreciated how calm she was, it made their jobs easier. The first two mutants had their heads blown apart as they ran straight into the aimed shots. Six more rounded the corner and fired wildly, seeming to hit everything except the three crouched figures.


Corporal Kensu Mobaasi ran to the sound of the gun fire. He had just four men of his twelve man squad left. His battle lust and rage sent him flying into the enemy, he didn’t even bother firing, three of the mutants had been killed by the bodyguards. Kensu smashed the butt of his bolter rifle into the face of the closest mutant, black blood flowed from the wound, the three mutants were then torn to pieces by a combined effort of his men and the two bodyguards.


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Sharik was a criminal, a selfish and self obsessed gang boss who found himself in the middle of someone else’s war. He picked his way through the fallen bodies of his men, along with the mutant troops and the planetary guards. He filled a backpack with twenty clips of ammunition, found himself a working bolt rifle, and bolt pistol. He clipped the six bolter pistol clips onto his belt. His personal pistol was custom made, it carried a silencer, a laser and targeting sight, as well as the ability to use either needler rounds, or bolt pistol rounds.


His three remaining companions were Rosanna, Tyron, and Xanik. All were young gang members, late teens and early twenties. They all scavenged as much as they could carry and moved forward away from the battlefield of corpses.


Sharik spotted a fallen missile launcher in the middle of the street. He thought about running for it until a volley of las gun fire sent them all reeling backwards behind the cover of the city library.


“Rosanna you’re the youngest. Run into the street and fetch me the missile launcher.”


“I might be the youngest, but I’m not stupid Sharik. If I go out there I’m dead.”


“If you don’t do as you’re told your dead.”


“Leave her alone Sharik. You’ve gotten enough of us killed already today.” Tyron looked at the older man with intense hatred. He just wanted any excuse to kill him.


“She’s not doing shit for you Sharik, you fetch the damn thing.” This was from Xanik, the tattooed giant from the marsh lands. One of the few who wasn’t completely insane.


“Well I thought I was in charge of this gang, looks like I thought wrong.”


“This is not a gang Sharik. It’s just four people trying to survive. So give it a rest or leave, we’ll manage without you.” Tyron smiled as he said it, daring the older man to challenge him.


“It’s trapped Sharik, look underneath. It’s the edge of a pressure mine, lift the launcher and bang, your dead. It’s been left on purpose.” Rosanna stated as she observed the weapon.


“Oh, sorry about that Rosanna didn’t see that.” Sharik actually looked embarrassed at his mistake.


“Did he just apologise. That must be a first Sharik, are you feeling ok.” Xanik asked.


“Alright enough of the sarcasm, we need to figure out where were going.”


“There are enemy troops everywhere, we can’t move far above ground.”


“You know everyone’s probably thinking the same thing Sharik, get down into the sewers, but what then?”


“We find a way out of the city, and maybe hook up with some other survivors. It’s better than being caught by these things.” Sharik actually looked worried by the thought of it.


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Rogue Captain, Adolnis Hoff, smuggler and slaver made his way through the burning ruins of the merchants’ district. His six bodyguards were all that remained of his entire crew. His ship was thought lost to the chaos forces. His slaves undoubtedly killed or captured. His cargo seized, he was definitely not happy.


The mutant squad rounded the corner, almost oblivious of their presence. Adolnis lifted the auto cannon, his captured space marine armour gave him the strength he needed to fire the weapon without any problems. Burst after burst tore into the unsuspecting unit of Slannesh troopers. The bodyguards opened up with their las guns until nothing but bullet ridden and charred corpses remained. Adolnis tossed a frag grenade into the centre of the bodies, just to be sure.


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Kattinia Ruvenska, slave and pleasure girl, hid quietly under the overturned mattresses. A pile high enough to completely cover her presence, or so she hoped. The slave market and holding pens had been hit early on in the battle, many slaves and customers lay dead throughout the compound.


She had no idea if anyone else had survived. She was too scared to move, she had hoped the troops would come and find her. But why would they be bothered about slaves she thought. No one was coming and she was getting frantic at the thought of being captured.

And what was she to do with the wounded officer she had found. She had hidden her best she could. But the colonel needed medical attention soon.


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A combined group of twenty or more gangs had found refuge in the lower quarter among the munitions factory buildings. With them were half a dozen shattered platoons of planetary guard, several hundred civilians and an army medical unit. The highest ranking person in the building was a major from the medical corps.


There was however a certain notorious individual known only as The Phoenix, at seven feet four inches tall, he looked barely passable as human. Over 500 pounds in weight and covered from head to toe in gang and battle tattoos.


His face was studded with all manner of piercing and he wore quite openly trophies of presumably vanquished foes. He looked almost as bad as the mutants to most of the people hiding in the factory. But there was a sharp mind behind all his grotesque attire.


The various gang leaders were terrified of him. He was wanted in at least twenty star systems for his illegal activities. The planetary guard were in no fit shape to cause him any problems and the civilians were terrified of everyone.


He approached the major and extended his hand “Please to meet you sir. My name is Jhosan Phoenix, I believe we are in quite the predicament wouldn’t you say.”


The major looked at him startled. He wasn’t sure what to make of the well spoken giant, but took his hand anyway. Hoping he wasn’t about to become the next victim.


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The offices of the Drayden planetary exchange building lay in ruins. There would be no trading for the foreseeable future. The staff had all fled onto the waiting transports, so it had been deserted when the small group of survivors entered through the destroyed security doors.


There were just eight remaining of the seventeen that had decided to band together and find a way to leave the city. No one led, no one was armed, there were five females, three of them adults, and two were children. The three males were all children. None of them were related or even knew each other, but now they relied on one another to get through this nightmare.


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Firefights raged throughout the city as the last remnants of defence tried desperately to hold onto their positions. There couldn’t be more than ten thousand free troops and civilians left in the entire city. They were outnumbered by something like five to one, there was no chance to hold the city, just a hope that they could escape from it.