Operation: Pacifica, Storm Warnings
by Prince Sheridan Iscarius, aka Shardik the Feral (NYAR!)


"Ready?"


"Hai!"



The sounds of WarpStone clanging against Owsenite-2 filled the empty hold,
 as an apparently uneven battle commenced.  One man with a single greatsword 
battled a mechanical monstrousity with 4 arms, each carrying an Owsenite-2 
katana, and incredibly enough was holding his own.


"Well Nameless, I see you have been practicing.  Been wanting to get
  me back for the match last week, eh?"  The man chuckled slightly as he
  parried the furious series of blows being dealt by the robot.


"Prince Iscarius, need I remind you that you DID rip both my left
  arms off?" The large robot made several feints and slashes, while Sheridan
  blocked every blow and even managed to get in a few of his own, putting the
  Rottweiler class battle droid on the defensive.


"My prince, I've noted that you've spent 76.89% of the time since
  you're returned from Iowa practicing and sparring.  Are we feeling a wee bit
  obsessive about your performance in battle, sir?"


"My banishment was because I was ill prepared for a single battle.
  That shall never happen again, old friend." With that, Sheridan ducked and
  slid forward, between the Rott's legs and brought the sword up in a vicious
  slash which connected with the robot's "crotch", digging in very deeply,
  toppling the 8' battle droid.


"My lord, it is at times like this that I am VERY glad I'm only a
  machine" Namless chuckled as it drug itself over to the repair bay.

Sheridan smiled, relishing these times when he could just spar... so much time
 after the X'hirjq invasion was spent digging through the remains of Maenad HQ, 
and salvaging what he could from Sub-level 3, his old home.  Now he was here, 
aboard the Redemptor, trying to enact his lord's will and make the Jihad even 
more ready to battle the Purple Prince of the Pedarasts.

Sheridan was roused from his thoughts by the pinging of the communication 
console, and was already at the console before the servitor-class cyborg in 
charge of communications could say "Message for you, commander".


"To whom do I owe the pleasure?"


"Shard, this is J.  We have a situation down here..."

Sheridan listened intently to what Admiral FoxGlov had to say, and after he 
closed the comm link to TRES HQ, he activated the internal telecom.


"2nd company, 1st squad, assemble at Thunderhawk Peregrin in full
  gear in 5 minutes.  Destination: TRES HQ, Terra".

Four and a half minutes later, nine troopers in full power armor were assembled 
by the boarding hatch of the transatmospheric gunship, checking the bolt pistols 
for ammo, and their chainaxes for fuel.  Seeing their commander, the Khornate 
berserkers saluted sharply.


"All systems ready, men?"


As one, the nine men replied with a hearty "Aye!"


"Good, we should be meeting with your sergeant once we get dirt-
  side.  Mount up."

The troopers and Sheridan boarded the gunship and left the main loading bay of 
the cloaked war-barge, their destination 47,500 Km below...



TBC

- Commander Sheridan Iscarius of The Chosen of Khorne