The tension within the Salamanders’ camp was palpable. Days of exhaustive searching had yielded nothing, no Chaos cultists, no signs of corruption, not even a whisper of an enemy presence. Daedren could feel the frustration building in the squad. The once disciplined, measured conversations had given way to muttered complaints and speculative debates.
On the second night, as they regrouped around a temporary command post within the outpost, Captain Agatone himself addressed the squad via the vox. His voice was calm but firm, cutting through their growing unease.
“We do not assume a false alarm,” he said. “Chaos operates in shadows, manipulating through confusion and fear. If there is no sign of them, it means either we’ve missed something, or they’ve cloaked their presence. Remain vigilant.”
Daedren sat with his squadmates in a circle near the perimeter, his shields resting by his side. Caldon paced restlessly, his irritation more visible than anyone else’s.
“We’ve scanned every inch of this outpost, every village, every stretch of land for miles,” Caldon muttered. “If there’s Chaos here, they’ve learned to hide better than ghosts.”
Lieutenant Thran’s stern voice cut through Caldon’s complaints. “That’s enough. We follow orders, and we maintain discipline. If you’re frustrated, direct that energy into the mission.”
Daedren said little, his thoughts preoccupied with their fruitless efforts. He had joined the Salamanders expecting action, battle, and the test of his mettle. But this was a different kind of trial, one that tested patience and resolve in the face of uncertainty.
On the third day, the squad spread out once more, splitting into smaller teams to cover more ground. Daedren was paired with Caldon and Thran, their task to revisit areas already searched in case something had been overlooked. The air was heavy with heat, the sun blazing down on the barren landscape as they moved methodically through the outskirts of the outpost.
“Anything?” Thran’s voice came through the vox, calm and steady.
“Nothing,” Daedren replied, scanning the terrain with his helm’s enhanced optics. Rocks, ash, and the occasional twisted tree dotted the landscape, but there was no sign of life.
The team regrouped by midday, their frustration growing as more reports came in. The other squads had found nothing, no Chaos symbols, no hidden caches of weapons, not even rumors from the locals.
As the Salamanders gathered back at the command post, Captain Agatone himself descended from his Thunderhawk to assess the situation personally. His presence brought a sense of gravitas to the camp, his green and black armor catching the harsh light as he surveyed the weary squad.
“Three days,” Agatone said, his voice low but commanding. “Three days, and we have nothing to show for it. If Chaos is here, they are either masterfully hidden or gone entirely.”
Lieutenant Thran stepped forward. “We’ve scanned the orbit, every village, and even the smallest settlements. The people know nothing, and their behavior shows no signs of tampering. Could the distress call have been falsified, Captain?”
Agatone’s expression darkened. “Chaos does not toy with us lightly. If this is their work, there is purpose behind it. We will continue until we have an answer.”
As the third day wore on, the squad expanded their search radius even further, pushing beyond the outpost’s perimeter and into the wild, rocky terrain. Daedren’s armor felt heavier than usual, his body weary from the constant marching, but he pressed on. The Salamanders did not relent, even in the face of monotony.
By late afternoon, the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the jagged cliffs. Daedren, Caldon, and Thran were traversing a narrow pass when the air changed. It was subtle at first, a shift in the atmosphere, a faint static hum that seemed to vibrate in Daedren’s bones.
“Do you feel that?” Daedren asked, his voice quiet over the vox.
Thran paused, his posture stiffening as he scanned the horizon. “Stay alert.”
The shadows deepened unnaturally, the light dimming as if a veil had been drawn over the sun. Daedren felt a chill run through him, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat they had endured for days. He gripped his shields tightly, his instincts screaming that something was wrong.
Without warning, a shrill, bone-chilling scream tore through the air. It was followed by the sound of rapid movement, skittering, slicing, unnatural sounds that made Daedren’s stomach churn.
“Contact!” Thran barked, raising his weapon.
From the shadows emerged lithe, alien forms clad in blackened armor that shimmered with an unnatural sheen. Their faces were obscured by grotesque helmets, and their movements were impossibly fast. Dark Eldar.
Daedren barely had time to raise his shields before the first volley struck. Splinter weapons hissed as they fired, shards of crystalline projectiles ricocheting off his reinforced armor. The enemy moved with fluid grace, darting between cover and closing the distance with terrifying speed.
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“Dark Eldar!” Thran shouted over the vox. “Squad, regroup and engage!”
The moment Thran barked the word "Contact!" the world seemed to explode around Daedren. The eerie shadows that crept across the cliffs solidified into sleek, darting forms. The Dark Eldar moved like whispers of death, their lithe figures blending seamlessly into the jagged landscape. Splinter weapons hissed, launching crystalline shards that buzzed through the air, leaving trails of venomous energy in their wake.
Daedren’s instincts took over as he slammed his shields into the ground, creating an impromptu barricade. The first volley of splinter fire ricocheted off the reinforced adamantium and ceramite, the shards shattering harmlessly against his defensive wall. Caldon ducked behind him, using the cover to line up his bolter.
“Keep firing! Pin them down!” Daedren shouted, his voice barely audible over the rising cacophony.
The Dark Eldar struck like a storm. Their speed was unnatural, darting from cover to cover with movements that seemed to blur in the faint light. One leapt high from a nearby ledge, aiming for Daedren’s exposed side. He caught the motion from the corner of his eye and turned just in time, slamming the shield upward. The alien’s razor-sharp blades scraped across the curved edge with a metallic shriek, sparks flying as the impact sent it sprawling.
Daedren followed through with a crushing forward bash. The shield struck the Dark Eldar midsection, the sheer force shattering its ribcage and sending the body tumbling lifelessly to the rocky ground.
“More coming from the left!” Caldon called, his bolter barking in controlled bursts.
Daedren turned, locking his shields together to form a wider barrier as Caldon repositioned, firing over the top. The bolts tore through the air, their explosive impacts lighting up the battlefield. A Dark Eldar warrior attempting to flank them was caught mid-sprint, the bolter round detonating against its torso in a burst of gore and shattered armor.
“Hold the line!” Thran’s voice echoed over the vox, steady and commanding.
The Salamanders regrouped swiftly, forming a defensive semicircle around their position. Thran took point with his chainsword, its roaring teeth cleaving through two attackers that had dared to close the gap. Another squadmate, Garron, held the right flank with a flamethrower, the liquid promethium creating walls of fire that forced the Dark Eldar to keep their distance.
But the aliens were cunning. They used the terrain to their advantage, weaving through the rocks and striking from unexpected angles. Daedren caught sight of two warriors scaling the cliffs to their rear, their movements so fluid they seemed to defy gravity.
“Above us!” he shouted, repositioning to intercept.
The first climber lunged downward, twin blades gleaming in the dim light. Daedren raised his shield just in time, the weapons glancing off the adamantium with a shriek. He swung his second shield upward in a brutal arc, catching the alien under the chin. The force of the impact snapped its neck, the lifeless body tumbling to the ground.
The second warrior hesitated, giving Caldon enough time to train his bolter upward. The crack of the weapon echoed through the pass as the bolt round found its target, the alien exploding in a shower of blood and bone.
Daedren took a moment to catch his breath, his muscles burning from the constant movement. His shields were battered, the edges chipped from repeated impacts, but they held firm. He glanced around the battlefield, taking in the chaos. The Salamanders were holding their ground, but the Dark Eldar showed no signs of relenting.
The sound of splinter rifles shifted, growing sharper, more coordinated. A new figure emerged from the shadows, a towering Dark Eldar in ornate, baroque armor that glistened with an oily sheen. Its helm was crowned with jagged spikes, and it wielded a long, wickedly curved blade that pulsed with a faint, sickly light. The air around it seemed to shimmer with malice.
“Leader identified,” Thran said over the vox, his voice clipped. “Focus fire.”
The Salamanders redirected their attention, their bolters roaring as they unleashed a hail of rounds at the new target. But the alien was fast, impossibly fast. It danced through the incoming fire, weaving and spinning with an almost mocking grace. Several of the rounds detonated against the ground and nearby rocks, the explosions lighting up the battlefield, but the Dark Eldar remained untouched.
Daedren felt a surge of anger as the alien leader closed the distance, heading directly for Thran. He surged forward, planting his shields in the ground to create a protective barrier.
“Thran, cover!” he shouted, slamming the edges of his shields into the earth.
The Dark Eldar leader collided with the barricade, its blade crashing against Daedren’s shields with a force that reverberated through his arms. The alien struck again and again, its movements a blur of speed and precision. Daedren held firm, his muscles straining as he absorbed the blows.
Thran took the opening. He swung his chainsword in a wide arc, aiming for the alien’s exposed side. The Dark Eldar twisted at the last moment, the teeth of the chainsword grazing its armor and sending a shower of sparks into the air.
“Keep pressure on it!” Thran barked, stepping back to avoid a retaliatory slash.
Daedren used the moment to counter. He pushed forward with his shields, driving the alien leader back with a series of rapid, powerful bashes. The edges of his shields connected with its armor, denting the intricate plates and forcing the alien off balance.
Caldon, firing from behind the line, managed to land a bolter round near the leader’s leg. The explosion didn’t kill it, but the force sent it sprawling to the ground. Daedren seized the opportunity, slamming one shield downward in a crushing blow. The alien leader twisted away at the last moment, avoiding the full impact, but the strike clipped its arm, sending its blade skittering across the ground.
The alien hissed, a guttural sound that sent chills down Daedren’s spine. It scrambled backward, its movements no longer as fluid, before disappearing into the shadows. The remaining Dark Eldar began to retreat, their forces scattering like shadows in the wind.
The battlefield fell silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of the Salamanders and the faint crackling of Garron’s flamethrower as it extinguished. The squad regrouped, forming a tight circle as they scanned the cliffs for any remaining threats.
“Status?” Thran demanded, his voice steady despite the intensity of the battle.
“All accounted for,” Caldon replied, his bolter held at the ready. “No casualties.”
Daedren let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His arms ached from holding the shields, his shoulders burning with exertion. He glanced down at his battered equipment, the edges of the shields dented and scratched, but they had held. He had held.
Thran turned to Daedren, nodding in approval. “Good work. Those shields proved invaluable today.”
Daedren managed a tired smile, his chest swelling with a sense of accomplishment. The battle had tested him in ways he hadn’t expected, but he had risen to the challenge. Yet, as the squad began to move back toward their temporary camp, questions lingered in his mind. Why had the Dark Eldar attacked so suddenly? And what had happened to the Chaos cultists they had been sent to find?