Prince Yriel looked out across the bridge of the Candidus Callipus at the small strike force he had assembled. The fight to the fire control station had been far too easy for his comfort. The soft Mon Keigh manning the Hulk’s massive orbital batteries were no match for the silently whirring blades of the Striking Scorpion attachment he had tasked with leading the assault. Within minutes his raiders would have the guns firing on the surface of Reth into the Imperial forces armored brigades massed outside the city of Caul. Usually not one to give in to the intuition of others, Farseer Eth’El Ret was seldom wrong in his visions and Yriel had come to trust his judgment in such matters. When Eth’El Ret told him it was crucial that the guns keep firing on the planet at all costs, Yriel chose not to tempt fate. The rest of the Candidus Callipus would be ignored and the bridge would be held.
“They are coming,” the Seer whispered to Yriel. Seconds later, the echoing cacophony of massively armored Terminators storming through the halls of the ship began. Silently, his warriors readied their weapons and moved into position. The Dire Avengers would hold the bridge itself as long as possible while the Scorpions and Banshees took up positions at either entrance. The Fire Dragons, their Fusion guns ideal for cutting through even the thickly armored Marines, took up position on the observation deck overlooking the fire control station. With a silent grace belying their size, the pair of Wraithlords Eth’El Ret cryptically requested took firing positions along the narrow hallway from the engine room. The ripping sound of the Marines cutting through bulkheads in distant chambers seemed to come from everywhere at once. Gripping the Spear of Twilight tightly in his hands, Yriel joined the Banshees and prepared to give these foul smelling Mon Keigh a true accounting of the might of the Eldar.
Eth’El Ret nearly wept at the carnage on the bridge of the Candidous Callipus. The brightly colored bodies of the twenty Dire Avengers assigned to man the weapon controls lay broken and bleeding throughout the bridge. Here and there the dull grey and crimson of the Blood Wolves Terminators that tried to wrest it form them could be seen. Most had been vaporized by close blasts from the Fire Dragon’s Fusion guns, and others had been literally broken in half by the massive Wraithbone warriors behind him. Yriel himself was barely clinging to life, the mysterious energies of the Spear of Twilight sustaining him for better or worse. The Hulk was undoubtedly back under the control of the Mon Keigh. However, aside from a brief moment where the Marines had broken through the Avenger’s gun-line, the bridge remained in the hands of the Eldar. Eth’El Ret had learned long ago not to question the purpose the strands of Fate had laid out for him. He had faith that Fate would not have asked such a high price for nothing. He might never know the reason for their actions, but he had faith that their actions on Reth were necessary. Turning towards the escape shuttle attached to the emergency bulkhead, the few surviving Eldar gathered the collected Spirit Stones of their fallen comrades and abandoned the Hulk to its original owners.
