PANDERAAN

Master Tyross gazed out into the open fields of Panderaan, his mind elsewhere. A single rune, held firm between his fore and index finger, was held aloft, his mind fixed upon it, the slightest possibility was not over-looked as Tyross searched for the course of action which was to prove most beneficial.

Snapping back, his being set upon the proper course, thrusting the jetbike upwards as it soared higher and higher over the trees, behind him, a squadron of Guardian riders followed. As the tree's cleared beneath them, the fencing around what would have been the Imperial Governor's garden darted past. Altering the pitch of his jetbike's way, Tyross let the bike slowly descend toward the street below. 'Halt at the next corner' rang through all the rider's minds.

As they reached the corner, Tyross begun the rapid deceleration early, whilst decreasing altitude suddenly, then watched as the Guardians struggled to bring their mounts to a halt. Hovering mere inches from the ground, Tyross waited...

After a few minutes or so, one of the younger riders spoke 'why are we waiting here, grand Farseer.' "We shall see, I know of this place from my castings and all the events which unfold from it" replied Tyross. A few more minutes, then a quite hum of engines was heard coming from the south. As the vehicle over-shot the corner, skidding around the already battle scarred street corner, the green paint-work of the slopping sided vehicle came into view. The Guardians readied their weapons, yet Tyross did not.

As the Adeptus Astartes Rhino came speeding up the street, grinding to a halt just in front of Tyross, the side door opened. Out stepped a robed figure, his power-armoured form hidden behind heavy robes, a gleaming sword was present in one of his hands, in the other, held firm a large staff bearing an eagle design. Hidden beneath the shadows cast by the robe's large hood was an iron mask and hung from a chain was a rosarius.

"Asmodai of the Dark Angels, I greet thee once again," "We meet again, Tyross" spoke Asmodai with a colder tone then usual. "Indeed, we do, lest our foe remains at odds with our warriors, and yours it appears from my castings." "Our battles are going as I expected, Ezekiel was not able to join our crusade against these vile creatures" droned Asmodai, his tone getting colder with each passing word.

"My lengthy discussions with him are always fruitful, lest they may not be today, nor my warriors have ceased their relentless march on this world, may our attacks be too small to arrest these creatures from consuming this planet?" This time, Tyross' tone was colder. "Our forces on the southern hemisphere are weakening, our cruisers have obliterated the Hive-ship from orbit, and we have detected your Craftworld in orbit when we arrived. The Tyranids have apparently formed a foot-hold on this planet, feeding their attacks troops," Asmodai tone cracked as anger flickered into his voice. "I will strengthen your forces to the south..."