The Restune 5 Chronicle II
Archon Akuf Tworf, Lord of the Dark Eldar Kabal Al Fuqyu, was not happy. He had been expecting a minor firefight with a few demoralised and broken Space Marines and had been looking forward to seeing how long their genetically improved bodies could withstand the delights he had in store for them. His wishes had gone awry.
He had grabbed a few units of troops, a couple of Raider transports and some Reaver JetBikes to hunt down the remaining mon-keighs as he was not expecting trouble. He was wrong. The cowardly ignorant scum had just stood still, using their long range weapons to pick off his troops, cripple his Raiders and shatter his JetBikes. The pathetic creatures would not fight, instead relying on their power armour to protect their feeble, slow, ugly bodies. How the mon-keighs made him sick!
Had it not been for the fall of night he would have made good the slaughter and swept upon them en masse, as the brave Warrior, Rob, had shown should be done. Then he would have made them pay. Slowly, agonisingly, tantalisingly. Nothing so pleasant as the torture they would have got so lightly away with if they had fought like real warriors. No, these flea-bites, these parasitic slime that spread through the galaxy would pay dearly for their impertinence.
He returned, with his dejected troops, to the rest of his Kabal still celebrating their capture of the civilian population. Perhaps the slow roasting of some mon-keigh children might brighten his spirits. Then as he fed upon their released souls their flesh could provide fodder for their parents. Yes, that cheerful thought would tide him over until the morning. Then he would teach these disrespectful Space Marines how hard life really can be.
It never occurred to him to wonder where these Space Marines had come from, nor whether there may be yet more lurking hidden on the planet ...