Terror Rising

It was still hard to believe. This was her legion. Terran men, gene forged into superhuman killing machines. The mailed fist of her father's Empire. Shock troops that were capable of facing any enemy and eliminating them.

But such tactics didn't suit the Night Huntress. She was an assassin, a mono-edged knife in the dark. Just like back on Nostramo, she invited women into her legion, and trained them in the arts of stealth and shadow. The same gene forging that made their brothers in arms warriors without match, turned them into lithe assassins without equal, save perhaps the members of the shadowy Officio Assassinorum.

Var Jahan, a confidant and strategist, who fought in the Unification Wars, had commented on it. "It is a strange thing." He had said. "To see the Legion change to reflect you. Dark haired women replacing my fallen brothers. It would be something I must get used too. The Legion reflects it's Primarch. But until the last brother falls, we shall do as we always did. Fight until the enemy is dead."

As she over looked the battle from the cliff side, the memory of Var Jahan's pledge fading. Right now, she had more important matters as her gene-sons did just as he had promised they would... holding the line against a tide of green. As her gene-daughters weaved in and out of the ork ranks, slaying them indiscriminately, as they gracefully avoided their brother's bolter fire.

She leapt off the cliff falling 300 feet, as she drew her weapons, a pair of curved daggers, short swords really, with wicked serrated monomolecular edges, surrounded by power disruption fields.

Just like back in Nostramo, an Ork Waaagh was nothing more then a large, green gang. Cut off the head and the body would die.

She cut a swathe through the tide, headed towards her target, the warboss and his nob bodyguard. They too fell against her, like so many vicious, psychopathic gangsters before.

"I have come for you." She whispered, the warboss bellowing orders, before his head was separated from his shoulders.

By the time the battle was over... another 20 gene-sons would be replaced by their sisters. The Legion was taking shape, reflecting herself.

Soon she would have a legion of lithe, graceful assassins, capable of reining holy terror on her father's enemies.