Strax is walking alongside his new friend.
A bark stalker
Since gaining this friend he has had a much easier time in the jungle. The constant alertness is minimized because he has someone that could keep watch for him.
The 2 together are the hunt.
Strax layed a simple trap at a location close to a den of a venom viper. Plant food sources on the planet are not easy to source, because predators usually hunt in those areas.
They hid behind a dense bush covering and waited for the viper to exit its hole. The bark stalker hid on the other side of him. They patiently waited.
Snakes are patient animals, never doing anything without a purpose. After waiting for almost the whole day, there was movement in front of the hole. The viper came out of the hole, peeking only its head out and getting the lay of the land.
It slithered out preparing to go out to hunt. When it passed halfway through a shrub, its body bumped into a stick, which triggered a rope to snap with enough force to dig into its skin. The viper writhed in pain as it shook its body.
Strax jumped out of the bush, rushing forward, his knife already coming down on the viper…Puesh … the knife drove into the vipers head ending its life immediately.
The viper is 15meters long with a width of a man's torso.
"Come let us feast."
Calling the stalker over, Strax began treating the snake. Is skin separated, its bones retrieved, and its poison sack taken out with caution. The mean was then divided for the both of them.
"We shall continue"
There is a certain hunger in him something he had not noticed before. He felt uncomfortable without the next hunt already lined up.
Hunger doesn't come in only one form.
Meanwhile back with Dravion, who was about to experience his first battle as a full Astartes member of the Dusk Raiders
810.M30. Segmentum Solar, Aboard the Unbroken.
The world had no name the Imperium cared to keep.
It was logged in expeditionary records as Compliance Target 47-Theta-Solar, a minor industrial sphere on the fringes of Segmentum Solar. Its atmosphere was breathable, its cities intact, its population, humans.
That should have made it easy, It did not. From orbit, the world looked alive, hive clusters burned with activity. Transit lines moved in perfect synchronization energy signatures were stable and efficient, too efficient for a world isolated since Old Night.
The Dusk Raiders fleet translated into high anchor in silence.
Strike cruisers formed a patient ring around the planet, their hulls scarred from previous compliances. There were no grand displays, no immediate bombardment.
The Legion did not waste effort, they observed first.
"Population density suggests no open conflict," intoned one of the fleet's logisticians over the command vox.
"Incorrect," replied Captain Crysos Morturg.
He stood at the observation dais, his armor the dull, utilitarian grey of the Legion. No ornamentation.
"Conflict is present," he continued. "It is simply… contained."
The first landing confirmed it. The drop pods struck without warning, slamming into the outskirts of a manufactorum city with controlled violence. Their retro-thrusters screamed as they embedded into ferrocrete streets.
Explosive bolts fired, the pods opened. The Dusk Raiders emerged into silence, there was no resistance, no alarms blaring at the invaders, the world although populated seemed dead.
Humans moved through the streets in ordered lines, their expressions blank, their motions precise. Workers continued their labor even as Astartes advanced past them.
"Compliance failure condition confirmed," Crysos voxed.
"Psychic or neurological override suspected."
Then the first attack came, not from the front. The attack struck first from a worker who had been carrying out his duty without concern for the Astartes. Like a man with purpose, his eyes steel as he watches the Astartes…then he lunges at them.
The movement was impossibly fast for an unaugmented human. His limbs snapped forward with unnatural strength, striking at an Astartes' helmet. The blow connected, cracked ceramite.
The Dusk Raider did not hesitate. His bolter fired once, the worker's torso detonated and then…The entire street turned a thousand eyes focused on them all at once.
"Engage," Crysos ordered. Bolters roared.
The Dusk Raiders advanced in disciplined formation, firing in controlled bursts. Each shot precise, no hesitation with one purpose to kill immediately. But the humans did not break, instead of fleeing seeing no hope of resistance the move forward.
"They are not defending," one of the Legionaries noted.
"They are being used, end this immediately we shall locate the culprit." Crysos replied.
Above the city, something shifted, the air thickened with an unnatural eerie manner. Someone or something was watching the place, they view the battle with a detachment that indicated xenos.
The Khrave were watching, the second wave deployed within the hour. Captain Crysos requested additional deployments immediately.
Thunderhawks screamed overhead, deploying additional squads deeper into the hive structure. Unlike other Legions, the Dusk Raiders did not rely on overwhelming shock alone.
The Dusk Raiders prided themselves on their ability to endure. They did not seek glory in speed, they sought complete victory in battle with precision.
Strategic points were identified quickly, the central command spires. The energy distribution nodes, and vox relay towers, seized within the first operational phase, but it changed nothing.
"Conclusion," Crysos voxed
"Primary enemy is not surface-bound."
He was correct.
The first xenos revealed itself in the underlevels, it did not resemble a creature, it moved like a distortion its form slipping between perception and absence. When it struck, it did so through others, humans collapsing, their bodies twisting as something inside them took control.
A squad engaged with it. It did not attack them per say, it simply did as it has always done, it watched them. Then their bodies froze, dropping to the ground without any response.
"Psychic predator," Crysos confirmed.
"High order" orders shifted immediately.
"Advance to sub-level command strata. Locate the control nexus and sever it."
The war changed.
No longer a surface engagement, it has become a decent simulator. Dravion as a new fully accepted Astartes is among the first to go down.
His battle record, though slim had earned him a place among the brothers of the Dusk Raiders. His survivability earned him favour among the veterans.
The battle has already started to heat up, and Dravion is already feeling the effects.
As the Legion advanced into the depths, resistance intensified. The Khrave began focusing their control, directing waves of enslaved humans into choke points, collapsing corridors, and isolating squads.
It was an efficient and well calculated strategy.
Dravion's squad now cut off from the rest of the legion, with their retreat sealed, focused ahead. Where thousands of controlled civilians surged forward towards their position.
"Hold position," the sergeant ordered.
Dhum…Dhumm…Dhumm
Bolter rounds fired into the rushing humans, breaking their bodies into piles of flesh and senue. With each death there were more to replace them, the mortals climbed over the bodies of the comrades in an effort to attack the Astartes.
One battle brother fell, reached by the density and numbers of the humans. He is dragged down by sheer mass, and something else, then a second brother followed.
Dravion seeing this decided to break his line and move forward. Not in an effort to be a hero, but to instill fear into these mortals who have such weak minds as to decide to follow xenos.
His steps accelerated as he moved forward. He fired into a wider firing line, killing almost all at the front. After exhausting his rounds, he switched to his chain sword.
His strikes landed harder, faster, his armor absorbed impacts that should have staggered him. He knew there was something wrong with these mortals. They seemed to be enhanced in a way he did not understand.
He advanced on them with his bolter fire becoming more rhythmic. One step per 2 bodies, where others would have been overwhelmed, he held his position, with his bolter on his left and his chain sword on his right.
Minutes passed as the Astartes fought, waiting for reinforcements. They only arrived later, when most of the brothers would have been dead if Dravion had not held the line.
When Crysos' forces reached the breach point, they found him still standing, surrounded by bodies. Non said anything, because the war was not yet won.
Deeper below, the true enemy awaited them, and the chains on this world had yet to be broken.