Trying my hand at something new

It had to be perfect. Lycus knew this, at a level that penetrated beyond perfunctory knowledge. It was something that resonated within the core of his being, a need for perfection so deeply ingrained that every movement and thought was without error or hesitation. He became a focal point through which perfection could shine out into the material universe. The wards had been placed around the chamber, mathematically aligned and every edge, line and colour drawn with great care. He had specifically chosen this place, out of all the others on the ship. Closest to the engine core of the ship, bathed in the radiant heat and psychic machinations required to punch holes in reality itself, suffused by the ethereal glow of a power source strong enough to allow the ship to slip between dimensions and sail the endless sea of the warp. The chamber was lit entirely by the reddish glow of past and present energy. This was the perfect place for a summoning. It had taken him a day to journey through the cramped tunnels, even without the added bulk of his battle plate it had been difficult to move his genetically altered physique through service tunnels designed for much smaller beings. Fortunately, the chamber was tall enough for him to stand to his full height, but he did not relish the thought of the return journey, even if he did not return empty-handed. He sighed and brushed perspiration off his temples, then briefly glanced at his wards before bending over to pick up the adamantine and wraithbone chain he had brought with him. It was time.

Lycus concentrated on the spell as the chain clinked in his palms. “Vaarnu ora slaa'neth uster,” he pursed his lips as an impossible wind began to whip through his robe. Lycus took a vial of iridescent purple liquid and poured it into his outstretched palm. He pictured his target, imagining every curve of the body, the lethal spikes, the knowing sneer, even the thoughts that may be running through her mind. The liquid burst into flame and he hurled it into the centre of the summoning circle as he spat the final words into the railing wind. “Na calth ora Syphion lartrea!” The flames climbed to the ceiling and the wisps of ash burst out as a figure stepped onto the warded floor. Smooth skin, beautifully supple yet muscular, the form of an amazoness, tipped with spikes and horns. The daemonette's features barely had time to register her astonishment before Lycus' fist landed directly in her midsection. The blow appeared to smoke as the remaining fluid sublimed off his hand in an instant. Even with complete surprise, the daemonette recovered quickly. A razor sharp talon, the size and shape of a scythe, flew towards Lycus' throat, only for the daemonette to find the killing edge caught in a loop of chain. Mocking laughter quietly escaped Lycus' lips, the difficult work was now complete and he could fully enjoy what came next without care. It was only a moment before both of her arms were completely entangled. Hissing daemonic curses became wails of dismay as Lycus carefully disarmed her, pulling the razor sharp talons free from each arm, the sockets oozing ichor as he revealed the clawed hands underneath. Disarmed but still dangerous, she lashed out with a kick that would have hamstrung him, but he swiftly changed his stance at the last moment and pinned her leg to the floor with his foot. One of the spines on her armour pierced his bare heel and he grunted in pain as they fell together. Lycus' breath hissed through gritted teeth as they landed heavily, noses touching, fangs and teeth practically entwined, he looked into her eyes: “You are mine.” They rose together some time later, Lycus' cuts and scratches mostly healed, the daemonette seemingly no worse for wear and no less defiant. Her weapons and armour lay in a pile some distance away. Lycus had tied the chain well, wrapping her from head to claw, restrained but still permitting limited movement and, most importantly, the ability to stand and walk. The chain looped around her limbs and torso, then continued along her back to tie off her hands, then climbed to her neck and shoulders where it looped to form a collar, terminating in the lead that Lycus was now holding. He piled the weapons and armour in a cloth sack, and hoisted it over his shoulder. The weapons master would be pleased to have such fine specimens for study. With a snap of the chain, Lycus beckoned towards the passage from which he had came, permitting himself a small smile as the daemonette led the way.

They had only been travelling for an hour or so when Lycus noticed the subtle pressure change in the corridor. The daemonette's sudden snarl and darting eyes confirming what he had already suspected. His psychic senses dulled as the creature neared, and he closed his eyes. Stopping short, the daemonette whined as he closed his eyes in concentration. Counting out the moments, feeling the air on his skin, the increasing ache behind his eyes, and listening ever so carefully to the suddenly obvious ticking sound. Then it was time. The daemonette shrieked as Lycus yanked her towards him, and a barely visible chitinous claw blurred the air where she had been standing. Lycus squatted down then sprang directly at the seemingly empty corridor, the remaining length of chain outstretched between his hands. The mewling daemonette was dragged forward as he leapt over her to confront the new foe. The chain found purchase on thin air, and a a dismayed hissing erupted. Lycus spat directly into the noise, and was rewarded with a change in pitch as the acid of his spit etched the chitinous faceplate of the lictor. The cramped hallway was not large enough for the lictor to effectively use its killing spikes, but it still managed to open up a gash in his thigh with a clawed hand. Retreating, Lycus used his good leg to power backwards, while throwing the daemonette directly into the lictor's embrace. A psychic touch down the length of the chain released the daemonette's hands just as she landed. A cacaphony of shrieks complemented each new puncture wound on the combatants while Lycus reached into the bag of weapons. Grabbing one of the daemonette's talons, he raised it over the daemonette's head and plunged it directly into the lictor's seething face. It collapsed in a heap, releasing the daemonette as ichor suddenly poured freely and the limbs curled in on itself. The daemonette merely sat while Lycus tended her wounds, each passing minute cementing her further in this reality weakened her warp powers, chief among them that of regeneration. Her fate was now sealed until her mortal form was destroyed or Lycus released her. “You will pay for this, Astartes.” Her first words whispered through dry lips and throat, unused to speaking instead of shrieking or cackling. Lycus merely passed her a bottle of water and she drank it greedily, fangs glistening as moisture returned. “Perhaps,” he replied, “but not now.” He glanced at the lictor as he retied her bonds, the telltale radio collar and antenna coming from a poorly patched portion of the skull letting him know exactly who was behind this attempted sabotage. The capture of a daemonette was a valuable addition to his collection, and would increase his stature among his battle brothers. Some among them were less than enthusiastic about his rise, notably Krogar, whose unhealthy fascination with all things Tyranid made him the most likely candidate for sending a slave Lictor to undo Lycus' hard work and perhaps undo Lycus himself.

Lycus was furious. He had only won through luck. An unaltered lictor would have killed them both, even altered, it would have killed them both if it had caught them in the chamber where it could have used its full strength. He had not planned for this, and such carelessness had almost been the end of him and his endeavour. As it was, both he and the daemonette were injured and in bad need of rest, something which would have to wait until they arrived safely to his sanctum. Krogar's attempts may not have succeeded in their aims, but they were enough to affect Lycus, and this was only the first attempt, there likely would be many more. It had not gone perfectly after all. Lycus grimaced in disgust. He helped the daemonette to her feet as they resumed their journey towards the rest of the ship and his quarters. There was still much to do.