Emperor's Judgementries

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As the last defender fell, he gazed upon the mighty Chaos lord, and spat a curse, vowing that the Emperor's Judgement would be enforced upon Lord Mexia's blackened soul.

Back then, in the Siege of The Emperor's Palace, it seemed such an empty threat...

*  *  *

Peratus was damned. The Imperial Guard were fighting a losing battle, trying to contain the Chaos army that flowed over it. The uncovering of the Obelisk of A Thousand Eyes had marked the world's undoing, for it was a gateway, through which the Daemon-Prince Mexia and his Daemonic Hoards now sallied forth.

High above, a star winked softly. The Ether-Eye, a Warp-spawned sentinel charged with watching the space around Peratus, looked upon the star and screamed as it was banished for ten-thousand years.

Below, the Hawk-Lords, Daemonic lieutenants of Mexia, felt the death of their watcher, and willed themselves onto the object it had found.

Their souls were annihilated, never to respawn in the Warp.

Finally, the mortal shipBringer of Gifts gave a brief, futile distress signal as Bombardment Cannons tore her apart, sending showers of debris down to the planet below.

Mexia received the message, and roared curses into the heavens, casting the rune-slate aside in his fury.

The slate began to replay the message. "The Ordo Malleus! The Daemonhunters have come!"

*  *  * Brother-Captain Azarel flexed his hand, feeling the micro-vibrations of the finger-aculators as he did so. He stood resplendent on the teleporter dias, his five Battle Brothers with him. All of the warriors were adorned in Terminator Armour, bedecked with Purity Seals and icons of faith. Brother Izan began checking his Psycannon again, seeminly unsatisfied at the twenty checks he had made thus far.

"Techpriest," Azarel intoned, "we are ready."

The Techpriest nodded, "One moment, sirs. The machine-spirit is unsettled due to Daemonic forces that have sought to breach through the ship's psychic shield. I need a few minutes more..."

Azarel nodded, and began reciting the Six-Hundred and Sixty-Six Words. No sooner had he finished, than the world began to spin. A strange, icy coldness filled the room, and the warp-chatter of Daemons filled the minds of the Grey Knights. With a mighty lurch, the Marines vanished, leaving nothing but frost on the pad.

*  *  * There was a flash, and the centre of the Daemonhost was blown asunder.

A heartbeat later, Bolt shells filled the air. The psychically-purified rounds slammed through the Daemon's flesh, causing them to scream in agony. Even the mighty Armour of Khorne gifted to the Bloodletters failed, as if it were made of paper.

Mexia turned, and snarled at the figures. He began to stride forward, eager to take the heads of these interlopers.

As he closed, he found himself repelled by an unseen force. He slashed with a mighty talon, only to roar in agony as his hand was vapourised by a shimmering field of energy. Mexia locked his eyes on the leader, and saw the Psychic projections he was creating. This simple thing, thisMortal, was creating a field of energy that banished any Daemon that touched it.

...he briefly considered ordering the Bloodletters to halt, but he knew it would achieve nothing. They would gladly destroy themselves rather than hold back from a potential foe.

Bolter fire stung Mexia's chest. His ancient Power Armour, now warped into his monstrous being, seemed unable to stop the torrent of shells the leader was firing. Summoning all his power, Mexia unleashed a Psychic blast, and the shield fell.

Azarel charged. Horrors of Tzeench sought to challenge him, only to be obliterated by his Holy Aura. The weapons of his Battle-Brothers continued to roar, killing dozens, hundreds of Daemons with each barrage. However, the Daemons were closing too fast, and it was clear that if this war was not ended soon, they would be overrun.

Azarel and Mexia faced off. The Daemon Prince summoned a blast of Warp-Fire, but it seemed useless against the charging warrior. Azarel began to recite an incantation, and swung his Nemesis Force Halberd. It connected with Mexia's leg, and sheered it off in a flash of molten sparks. The Daemon Prince fell, and Azarel was upon him in an instant.

He raised his halberd high, "I name thee, Daemon Spawn, as Savos Mexia in mortal life, andgzklakzth in Damnation!"

There was a flash of white light, and Mexia felt his energies fade. Around him, his Daemonic servants wailed as they were banished, their power drained from them by the Ritual of Naming.

"In the name of the Immortal God-Emperor, I shall Banish thee! Not to the Warp, not to the Void, but to His Judgement, so that you will answer for all eternity for your heresy, and never rise again!"

Mexia roared, "Then die with me, Grey Knight!"

The Daemon thrust his sword, only to have his arm blasted apart by a volley of Psycannon shells. He wailed in terror as the Nemesis weapon struck his heart, and all went white...

*  *  * Above Peratus, the ships of the Imperial Navy began to arrive. Fresh soldiers landed to mop up the remains of the Chaos army, and the Obelisk was struck with Nova Cannon, blasting it, and the entire mountain range, from existence.

No-one saw the lone ship hidden from sensors on the dark side of the world. Abord this craft, Brother-Captain Azarel watched the bombardment, and turned to the waiting Inquisitor.

"The Bombardment is powerful, but I would like to be sure..."

The Inquisitor nodded, "We have found no further evidence of taint... but vigilence is needed in times such as this. The planet's population will be subjected to incarceration and interrogation, just to be sure..."

Azarel nodded, knowing such methods were often necessary. He strode from the bridge, glancing at the waiting Engineseer.

"Prepare the Teleporter, and have my men ready for battle."

 




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