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This is the beginning of the fanfic for my army 'Hands of Fate" Hope you like it. Just to give some more understanding. The Hands of Fate are my grey knight chapter and inducted imperial guard that were believed lost when their ship was engulfed in a tragic warp storm. Their ship emerged fifty years later. Feel free to comment, critisisim can be a good thing.

Three years after the crusade ship “Impending Silence” reemerged from the warp.

“He can’t do this!” They yell was followed by two fists slamming onto the table. A sergeant of the 66th Akridan stood up, rubbing his hands from hitting the table. “Why doesn’t he just let us do what we’re told? Who does he think scares us more, him or the space marines? We’ll be executed for sure.” “There’s no point in yelling,” A second voice answered. Commissar Toklov is just doing what he sees as right, in all truth I don’t like the orders, but I hear the inquisition has given worse. Besides it’s not our business, that’s why we’re the guns, and they just tell us where to shoot.” The first voice seemed to agree with this. “You’re right; I just don’t like sitting here while there are still orks running around out there. But I guess it will all be resolved soon.” The two men were interrupted by the rumbling of a large vehicle, and looked up as a black land raider crusader broke over the hill, coming to a stop just before the camp. “Send word to the Commissar, he’s here." As the front ramp lowered, a lone figure rose from the depths of the crusader’s hold, his black terminator armor almost blending with the night. Lord Paladin Lafayel Necrarch of the Hands of Fate rose to his full height, easily dwarfing the surrounding imperial guard troops. As he emerged, the tendrils extending from his helmet could taste the fear in the guardsmen upon seeing him. His appearance was truly intimidating, for his helmet had been elongated slightly, ending in three black tendrils with two long tubes on either side of the helmet extending from bottom to top. His harsh rasping breath could be heard even outside the suit, and every outward breath sent a burst of air out both sides of the lower part of his helmet. His retinue emerged behind him wearing armor matching his, and making the same raspy noise. They began to survey the still burning city in front of them when they were interrupted. “My lord?” The cry came from his left, and he turned to face his addressor. Commissar Ivan Toklov stepped forward flanked by two of his soldiers. “My lord, I understand the need to quell the corruption, but the men say they are finding many survivors free of mutation and uninjured holed up in the various buildings, most of them women and children. Do I have authorization to begin evacuating them?” One of the ghostly terminators stepped forward drawing his nemesis sword to remove the source of his master’s annoyance, but was halted when Lafayel raised a single hand signaling for him to step back. The activation of the suit's comlink made a sound that can only be described as a mechanical bubbling. “Your orders were clear… is there a problem?” “No my lord… it’s just that… they are women and children.” Lafayel took a deep breath and nodded to the Commissar. Then, swiftly turning, he caught the commissar in his right hand, the massive fist of his aegis suit squeezing the air out of his victim. He lifted him only inches from his helmet as a very loud hollow roar came out of the suit’s vocabulator. “I SAID NO SURVIVORS.” The last sight the proud commissar saw was the cold blue lenses of Lafayel’s helmet as the fist squeezed his body past its limits. Throwing the broken body to the ground, Lafayel looked to the two escorts that had accompanied their fallen leader and pointed a bloody finger at the nearest one. “Tell this story to anyone who thinks to question my commands. There will be no survivors; I will not allow the corruption to spread.” The frightened guardsman took off running, leaving his partner behind, who simply shook in fear at the sight of what the Grand Master had just done. Amused, Lafayel looked over his shoulder to one of his retinue. “How many men does it take to deliver a message?” A loud hollow hiss sounded from the terminator in answer as he leveled his storm bolter. “One!” He fell instantly, the two bolt shells tearing his body in half at the torso. His companion turned around after hearing the shot and made eye contact with Lafayel once more. In answer, he simply pointed off towards the forward base camp. “Go!” The guardsman shook off his look of fear and bowed before the Lord Paladin. “By your will my lord.” Hearing this truly brought a smile to Lafayel’s face. He cared not if those under his command served him through loyalty… as long as they served him first through fear.

I actually haven't thought too far ahead, but I do have a general idea. You'll be suprised as to some of the motives on both sides though.

Chapter 3
Planet Ichar 4

With the city once again free of the sounds of combat, a lone Imperial Guard platoon quietly advanced through the central buildings that made up the governing body of the city. One squad in particular led by a sergeant named Tobin made their way into the basement of the building that was head of the city’s military operations. An initial sweep of the room indicated nothing interesting, however, upon sweeping the room a second time, he noticed a hollow area showed up behind the back wall. “Corporal Adams, put a det pack on that wall.” His corporal followed orders quickly, and before long they found themselves deep in a top secret storage room. Walking around the room, he began to hear ghostly whispers coming from the back corner of the room. He slowly headed towards the sound with his lasgun leveled in case of a surprise. As he closed distance with the object, he immediately recognized the whispers as a something extremely dark. They were mulit-voiced whispers of pain, death, decay, and extermination. Upon opening the crate, he found an odd orb pulsing with a dim sick puke colored light. As soon as he reached for the orb, the sound of hollow raspy breathing reached his ears followed by a mechanical bubbling. “You have done well Sergeant Tobin. It would have taken much longer to locate the artifact without your assistance.” Tobin turned to face one of Lafayel’s terminators, its tendrils flicking as if tasting the air, and stared at Tobin with its empty cold emotionless eye lenses. He watched as the terminator waved his hand forward, and two of their power-armored troops walked past him and grabbed the crate containing whatever it was that was whispering and carried it back out the door. It was when Tobin attempted to walk out of the room that he recognized the betrayal, for the terminator moved to block his path. “Seeing as how you have found what we are looking for Tobin, we no longer have any need for you or the rest of your fellows here.” “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted you… you have been corrupted after all. Who are you working for now? What is it you plan” “That knowledge is not meant for you. The only comfort I can offer is that not only will you be the first of your fellows to die but your death shall be quick, however I am afraid it will be rather… agonizing.” As the terminator said this, he raised his hand towards the sergeant and a long inky black tentacle shot forth, and as it approached Tobin, it split into three separate tentacles and wrapped around his body. He let out a painful wail as he began to melt and twist into an unrecognizable glob of flesh. When the tentacles returned to the terminator’s hand, he turned to leave the room as a squad of power-armored troops poured through the door raining a hail of bullets into the remaining guardsmen. The last words any of them got to hear was the terminator opening a com channel. “My lord… we have it.”

The rest of the night was filled with the roar of gunfire. And only a handful of the guardsmen managed to escape the slaughter…

Thank you. The colors were an idea I got from another rp guild I'm in. I'd like to think I could at least attempt evil after playing the Thousand Sons for so long.^_^