THE STORY OF VENSYVIEN

More stories by this author can be found at Eldar Online.

Vensyvien crouched low behind an outcrop of rock, silent as death. A hot wind swept past throwing up small clouds of sand and grit from the desert floor. The sun glistened off the black plates of his armour casting a low shadow over the ground behind him. His squad waited behind him for any sign of movement, but he was still.

His eyes were focused on a small group of guardsmen that were clumsily and wearily making their way along the narrow trail at the base of the hill. The leader of the group came to a halt to take a sip of his water and passed it among his group until each of the 8 men had taken the edge off their thirst, glistening drops of water rolling over their chins and falling to the ground where they hissed and evaporated. The men were clearly in no state to fight, but their lasguns were no less dangerous. The leader had short black hair, dark eyes and a battle hardened appearance. He was currently surveying a large map of the desert in which he now stood and was shaking his head.

Perfect, thought Vensyvien ... the group were lost.

He noticed a small glint of light flicker on the horizon far across the sand dunes, and with one concentration of thought the visual aids implanted in his mask zoomed in to allow him a better view. One of the men had noticed it too, and was pointing at it with one hand, while covering his eyes with the other. The other men turned to look and each one of them gripped his lasgun tight. A short man with a moustache raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes and scanned the horizon. He spoke a few words to another in the group and Vensyvien's eyes narrowed as one of the men reached for his radio. He heard one of them say

It should be within range"

The soldier held it up, pressing down the button on its side; the radio crackled into life.

This man was taller than most of the others, but lacked the muscular build of the leader. His mouth moved and then he became silent as he released the button to await a response. When none came he looked slightly unnerved and tried again. This time a reply came, although Vensyvien couldn't hear it from his position. It didn't matter, it would make no difference to their fate. Vensyvien could see the source of the light without the need for binoculars; the sun was being reflected from the hull of a Leman Russ battle tank that had just come over the crest of a dune, its heavy tracks treading their pattern into the desert sands, the powerful engine roaring and protesting as it dragged the bulk of metal along. It was the first in a column of approximately 12 vehicles. 3 Imperial sentinels strode along side the metal trail, stomping up clods of dry, cracked dirt, their lascannons protruding menacingly from their metal carapaces. The armoured column was the main spearhead of an even larger force that was thundering across the desert unrelentlessly towards a settlement of humans sympathetic to the Eldar cause, those dissillusioned with the machine of war that is the Imperium. The Yvien clan of Ulthwe had supplied them with weapons, not enough to survive of course, but enough to do some serious damage to the approaching force. Vensyvien saw it as killing two birds with one stone, foolish Mon-Keigh are easily set upon each other, so why risk more lives of his kin than necessary? This small group that his squad had encountered were infact the remnants of a scouting force that his kin had devestated in a quick skirmish several days ago. These were the only survivors that had managed to evade the Vyper squadron that had pursued them, and that was no mean feat.

Vensyvien turned his attention back to the soldier with the radio and tried to make out what was being said.

The soldier was frantically trying to warn whoever was on the other radio,

"We've been ambushed!...repeat, ambush, change heading!...over"

The radio crackled,"...advan..ng...to.ards...noth.rn...co.rdinat.s...ov.r"

"No!" shouted the soldier "Fall back and regroup!"

".epeat...over"

"FALL BACK...AMBUSH!"

"...your...bre.king...up...head..g...to...yo.r...posit.on"

"Damn it!" the man shouted and threw his radio to the ground in disgust, unaware that it was the nearby Dark Reapers causing his radio to fail.

The soldier spat, "Piece of s*#@"

The leader spoke up, "We'll have to make contact before dark, move out." Vensyvien didn't want to reveal his squads position, but neither did he want the Imperial Force to know that an ambush awaited them. Within seconds he had made up his mind.

He rose up to full height and brought his shuriken cannon level with the squad of guardsmen, the golden barrel gleaming majestically in the midday sun, and as he did so, the rest of his squad brought their Reaper Lauchers to bear, awaiting the order to fire. Vensyvien pulled the trigger and felt the almighty recoil force the stabilisers in his armour to compress as thousands of viscious shuriken rounds ripped from the barrel and tore through the air towards the startled guardsmen.

As the first volley reached the guardsmen one soldier fell instantly, jets of blood spurting from beneath his armour as he was cut to ribbons by the thousands of razor sharp shurikens. A second man screamed as his left arm was torn to shreds and he fell to the sand, his life blood flowing away. Three men, one of them being the Sergeant, leapt behind a small dune about 10 feet to their right. Two of the remaining three still standing opened fire on the reapers, bolts of scorching superheated red laser bringing down one of the Eldar warriors, the rest of them sputtering into the surrounding sands harmlessly, or their heat absorbed by the Dark Reaper's sturdy armour. One of the men froze, and was cut down by a second burst of fire from Vensyvien's Shuriken Cannon, his head falling from his shoulders with a gore spattered face that had a stunned expression.

The Eldar crouched low behind the crest of their hill and began to reload when they heard two sharp cracks ring out across the desert, the sound rebounding off every rock and cliff face for miles around. Vensyvien motioned for his team to remain low while he raised his head to see what has caused the sound. The squad reamined still for several seconds, and then Vensyvien began to laugh. He answered their question with one word.

"Rangers!"

The Sergeant and his remaining squad member cannot have run more than 30 feet before they had been picked off by Eldar snipers, their bodies now lay sprawled on the sand, easy pickings for the scavenging animals of the desert, they would not be joining the war effort...