Kalistabán was starting to curse the words of the human General that had led him to this sector of the galaxy… And the worst part was that he knew he hadn’t been lying, he’d seen to that himself.
Standing on the peak of a rocky formation, he looked over the forest planet of Jorn, the 12th planet he had scoured with his group. In the distance he could see the outline of a temple, or at least the ruins of a temple, with a great beam of energy erupting from it and trailing into the sky.
Following the deep blue light to its destination, he could see the great beast of a Tyranid Hive floating above the planet. This one being the size of a large moon, these hives usually spelt the total destruction of a planet – the Tyranids inside of it would literally devour any and all organic life to strip planets completely clean… but this one was different.
Instead of an apocalyptic force of the creatures invading the planet it was though, as if the Hive was dormant, leaving the lush green forest in front him completely intact.
Taking this as a good sign that the area was safe – or as safe as it could be under the circumstances, Kalistabán lead his team down the hill and towards the temple.
Passing into the woodland that lay between them and their destination, Kalistabán’s heightened senses started to notice something, started to smell something – the familiar smell of blood in the air. Not just the metallic tinge of human blood either, but the sweeter smell of Eldar blood. Turning to his team he noticed the same expressions on their faces as they readied their weapons and moved closer to the trees.
As they covertly continued their journey, they encountered nothing, no assailants and no bodies – it was as if the corpses had simply disappeared.
Moving cautiously they eventually encountered an opening in the forest, but not a natural one. It was though a large ship had come screaming to a crash, destroying the trees in its line of decent, but any signs of obvious destruction had gone. Now it was just an odd clearing in a flourishing forest.
“Kalistabán,” one of his team called softly, getting his attention before waving him over. “Look,” he said, pointing at a patch of earth he had scraped away with the bayonet on his rifle.
It was an Imperial insignia, The Golden Eagle that scores of Humans would stand behind and unquestioningly throw themselves into deaths waiting arms for, on the side of something far bigger and metallic.
Signalling over another of his group that wielded a blaster, Kalistabán ordered him to fire at the ground around the insignia. As the weapon’s plasma projectiles scorched the earth, sending dirt in all directions under the stress of the potent energy that it fired, the insignia was revealed to be on the side of a huge craft that had been buried thousands of years ago. But if that was the case, why was the vehicle in such good condition?
Before he could reach a conclusion Kalistabán was called over by another of his group who led him to a building…Or at least the top of one.
Climbing in through the window, Kalistabán took a few warriors with him and left the rest to guard the exit as they explored the dark building. Not needing a light to see through the gloom with his Commorite eyes, he started to notice where the smell of blood was coming from.
Lying next to what looked like a window was a score of humans, dead and their basic armour shredded by the monomolecular disks that his Craftworld cousins employed… but why would there be a window underground?
Venturing deeper into the building Kalistabán found more human bodies, all less than a few cycles old, as well as a handful of Eldar corpses garbed in the armour of the Craftworld’s Aspect Warriors but with their Spirit Stones removed – likely by Eldar Rangers who had taken them to make sure the Eldar’s spirits would be kept safe from She Who Thirsts.
Eventually arriving at what would appear to be the main door, the Commorrites found themselves about thirty feet underground, the door leading to a solid wall of earth.
Leaving the building by the same means they had entered, the group reappeared, finding the rest of the group still stood where they had found the insignia, all with a puzzled look on their faces.
Walking over to the group, Kalistabán noticed what was troubling them. What had not long ago been a hole in the ground, torn apart by the blaster, was now as fresh as it was when they first arrived, as though it had been untouched for millennia.