Chapter Nine

"Oi Dicer, what do you call a good insurgent cell?"

"I dunno Tick, hit me with it."

"Fireworks!"

An explosion rocked the sturdy hill, creating a smoldering gash and scattering debris throughout the previously quiet vale, on a nondescript mining planet in the once neutral zone.

"Not your best, but I'll take it."

"Ok, if you think you can do better, be my guest."

A thunderous roar echoed from deep within the lands' jagged wound, a storm of feet charged the duo. Valiant war cries drifted from within, taunting the over-eager pair of soldiers.

Dicer, a stocky lunatic swathed in scars and the best armour the crafty Warlock could get his hands on, hefted his favourite special issue heavy rifle, taking aim through the thick smoke billowing from within the uncovered entrance.

Tick, a quiet, lanky man dressed from head to toe in a pitch black combat suit threw a cluster of small black spheres above his head. One by one they began floating in place; dark mist gathering towards them, eventually forming sleek blades the width of Ticks' thumb. In total, eight razor sharp blades orbited the vicious Warlock, keenly awaiting the bloodbath.

As the lingering smoke dispersed, the insurgent charge raised their ragtag weapons to face the pair. Not one of them fired. A tangible chill descended upon the hot blooded freedom fighters, each one of their indomitable wills faltering.

In a flash of dark mist Dicer unleashed a storm of shadowy projectiles which shredded through the first wave of rebels.

As the first dozen fell their shoddy equipment became obvious to the seasoned warlocks. These rebels were just farmers, miners, construction workers, ship techs and other such civilian professions.

Despite a twang of guilt from both Dicer and Tick, they continued their mission to exterminate any and all resistance from the inhabitants of their new forward operating base.

In keeping with Imperial Combat Protocol, Tick finished off the fallen foes using his floating blades without hesitation, a wounded enemy was one that held a grudge after all. Once that was done he turned his focus to the second group of now trembling insurgents, and directed his blades to cut them down.

Dicer, seeing that his oh so fancy gun had jammed once again, decided that it was time for his trusty standard issue survival knife to shine. Signalling to Tick that he was ready to advance he charged a third group, grinning maniacally.

The slaughter continued deeo into the rebels base, disabling many life support and weapon protection systems along the way. Eventually the duo reached what seemed like a warehouse packed full of variously sized crates. The killing had ended as any remaining insurgents fled deeper into the base, they would be hunted down later, for now the vast room felt too ominous to the duo to be left alone.

Silently and with practiced precision the pair cleared the brightly lit yet still chilly warehouse, finding nothing they met in the middle of a few of the larger crates.

Dicer was getting anxious, he hated unseen enemies, and an unseen enemy this was. He kept fiddling with his knife and a few pouches attached to a belt he wore.

As if answering the stocky warlocks anxiety a tall well built man appeared before the pair, wearing a simple green woolen robe and a sheathed short sword.

Immediately Dicer lunged for the new arrival with a vicious slash to the chest but missed, as though he had been two steps further away than he was.

"Bloody spatial trickster!" Cursed Dicer, retreating a few steps. "Do the thing."

Tick, gleeful from his friends admittance of incompetence, gathered dark mist around himself, forming four rings on his left arm.

With his right hand he pointed at the unknown enemy, causing the four rings to dissolve then reform on the green robed man's four limbs.

Tick nodded to Dicer, prompting him to once again slash at the man's chest. This time the knife made contact, leaving a deep wound which whilst bleeding, also seemed to be drawing in a dark mist from Dicer's bloodstained hands. Within a few moment the paralysed man had flopped to the floor, allowing the duo to relax until reinforcements arrived.

The fun part was done, now came the paperwork.