The Sisters of Midnight - MattChapel (2024)

Chapter Text

All characters depicted in this work of fiction are of legal age of consent.

Part 1
In the grim darkness of the forty-first millennium, there were only shenanigans.

And nowhere were the shenanigans more rife than on the jungle world of Doska. A verdant gem swathed in a tapestry of emerald canopies, teeming with life as vibrant as it was voracious. The air was a constant thick buzz of insects and calls of exotic creatures, a cacophony that drowned out the constant churn of interconnected pumping rigs and rumbling refineries.

For beneath the undergrowth and towering ferns lay a treasure most valuable; vast reserves of raw promethium. The lifeblood of the Imperium of Man formed vast lakes under the planet’s crust, just sitting and waiting to fuel the endless war machine of humanity.

One such valuable refinery sat nestled among the roots of a thousand-year-old tree right on the edge of a clearing. The promethium refinery, like many more on the jagged horizon, belched thick plumes of acrid smoke into the hazy, pollution strangled sky. And this metal behemoth brooding like an immense spider, with many more sprawling legs than it had any right to have, growled and groaned as it devoured the planet’s resources.

Perched atop a grassy knoll, a lone figure sat astride an idling dirt-bike. His boots were firmly planted, balancing the vehicle between his thighs as his arms levelled an autogun, his shrouded head angled to peer through the rifle scope. With practiced eyes hidden in the shadow of his hood and scarf, he scanned along the refinery’s walkways, rooftops, stretches of metal piping and then finally towards the front gate; a break in the chainlink fencing surrounding the facility and guarded by several figures.

Men in coveralls moved about, seemingly working. Except their movements made no sense. Their proportions were all wrong. Arms too long, legs too short, faces too elongated… skin too purple.

It went beyond the unflattering wrap of their work clothes, and perhaps oddly coloured grime of the hard work they were doing. Mainly because they weren’t doing any work at all.

The watcher squinted as he settled his reticule on one of the figures moving along a walkway at a patrolling gait, an old rifle in his hands rather than work tools.

Lowering his weapon, the figure chewed his tongue somewhere behind his scarf. Doska’s twin moons were fading as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon behind him, bringing more than just the light of a new day. It was bringing with it impending mayhem, and undoubtedly, more shenanigans.

With his rifle slung and leaning heavily on his bike’s handlebars, the figure keyed his comms, speaking low and firmly into his throat-mic. “This is inquisitor, in position. Twins, you up?”

“Mmm-hmmm~!” his sniper cover sang cheerfully over the comms, followed by a low grunt of affirmative from the other marksman… well, maybe not so much a ‘man.’

“Goonies, you ready?” the ‘inquisitor’ continued.

There was a sudden roar of engines on the comms, the grumble of multiple vehicles revving loudly as they sped through the jungle. Then the sergeant of ‘goonie’ platoon answered in his thick Low Gothic accent.

“Aye, sah! We’ll be on the blighters mighty quick at this pace.”

The shrouded inquisitor nodded, then lowered the goggles perched on his forehead down over his eyes. The ballistic armour over his torso was as protective as it was light, festooned with pouches whose contents would feed his autogun, while his trusty sword hung diagonally the other way over his back.

Revving his bike twice, he reached up one more time to key the commlink via the switch pinned to his body armour. “Roger that. All callsigns, full send.”

With the signal to go broadcast, the inquisitor clicked the dirt-bike into first gear and twisted the throttle. Knobbly tires fought a moment for purchase, throwing up clods of grass and earth as he turned on the spot, carving a deep arc in the ground before speeding off down towards the refinery.

The approach was anything but subtle, and the moment he rode out of the glare of the peeking sun, figures could hear and spot him from the refinery gantries. He saw several of the oddly proportioned figures on watch dart about, raising weapons over their heads to shout and point in his direction. But their attention didn’t stay on him for long. Because the inquisitor had his ‘goonies,’ who did what goonies do best.

With a roar of several dozen promethium sucking engines whose cacophony had only been hinted at over the radio, a mix-match of buggies and dirt-bikes burst from the treeline and sprang across the grassy clearing in front of the refinery. The bikes immediately weaved, riders letting loose a flurry of las-pistol shots before breaking off and letting the main body of vehicles with mounted guns charge ahead. Drivers held steady while the gunners in the back manned the guns rigged expertly to the buggy roll cages, and side seat passengers took aim with their service weapons.

Joining their charge, blaring at maximum volume was the cacophony of heavy metal, an anthem of screaming violence the inquisitor’s retinue of guardsmen all agreed was their theme song. And it played unfettered even as the opening volley of gunfire unleashed a tide of hell fit for the deepest depths of the warp.

A mix-match of mounted heavy stubbers and passenger lasguns let loose an almighty torrent of fire, connecting with the refinery’s front gates and absolutely decimating the guards before they could respond with violence in kind.

One of the guardsmen in the side seat of a lead buggy hefted a rocket launcher, and as the vehicle’s wheels left the ground at the crest of a rolling hill, the man let loose mid-air. The missile streaked through the air, curled ever so slightly as the shooter directed the rocket by remote, then guided the shaped explosive charge into the midst of a guard tower. It didn’t explode at first, a palpable second ticking by between skimming the handrail with a shower of sparks, leaping between two stunned hostiles and then smashing through the window of the guard tower behind them. Then the rocket air-burst, blowing the top of the tower clean off, disappearing it like a detonating fire-cracker.

His distraction in full swing, the inquisitor rode unmolested through the clearing. When one of the refinery’s occupiers did turn in his direction though, it only lasted a second.

He didn’t gear her shots so much as saw them. The bullets, if that was what her rifle truly used, left vapour trails through the sky, zipping overhead and cutting through the hostiles centre mass with enough force to split them apart at the ribs. One after the other, along the gantries, and pipes where the rag-tag occupiers traversed in apish lopes, or turned to address the fast approaching biker on their flank, the men simply exploded into chunky strands of what used to be people.

None of them got a shot off, and could only duck for cover as the inquisitor sent his bike full throttle up a natural incline and leapt almost clean over the chainlink perimeter fence. His rear wheel bounced over the top, rattling the line of fencing before he plummeted to the flat asphalt on the far side, landing with a heavy crunch of old shock-absorbers in dire need of retiring. But the bike had done its duty, and the rider slammed the brakes, half-turning to skid to a halt.

He flipped the emergency cut-off as the bike flipped onto its side, the sudden stop launching the inquisitor purposefully out of the open and let him roll in one smooth motion behind the high concrete foot at the base of some metal rigging that suspended many lengths of the thick rust-coloured promethium pipes high overhead. The machinery all around churned on using automated systems, despite neglect from the locals. Servitors wandered from one task to the other, joined by equally diligent servo skulls suspended by some anti-gravity technology that might as well be magic. Neither kind of automaton of flesh, bone and circuitry paying any mind to the utter ruckus of battle enveloping the refinery around them.

Drawing his autogun off his back and to his shoulder with one hand, his other ripped off his goggles, then tore back his hood and scarf to reveal the youthful face of Inquisitor Gabriel underneath. His ‘hat-hair’ was a matted mess of dust and sweat, but that look of sheer determination never left his eyes. Even as a flurry of gunfire churned up puffs of asphalt near where he sat.

Keeping his weapon up, he twisted it horizontally and laid it over the base of the pillar, the unusual angle ensuring he barely revealed the top of his head over the concrete barrier. He adjusted the reticule out of sheer practiced eye, then returned fire.

Three of the hostiles less than a hundred metres away ducked into cover as rounds sparked against the waist high barriers that lay scattered outside the main administration building in the heart of the refinery. Another turned and tried to run to a less crowded piece of cover. But that was when Gabriel successfully compensated for the extreme cant of his rifle and nailed the runner sidelong through the back of his head.

The custom round the cogheads back at base had developed in tandem with his heavily modified autogun exploded on contact with soft tissue, blowing the figure forward with the force of a krak-grenade going off under his ass, before he flew face first into the side of an old forklift.

Wising up, his buddies held their own weapons high over their heads, barely peeking to see where they were shooting and unleashed a stream of suppressing fire that roughly shoved Gabriel back into cover.

“Oh, Naestra, would you be a dear and provide some sniper support?” he chimed into his throat-mic.

The aeldari ranger’s affectionate voice came back to his ear with an almost melodious quality. “Well, that depends, love. Are we assaulting the same refinery? You are certain you’re in the correct sector this time, right?”

Gabriel grumbled. She was never going to let him live down the Gestalt blunder. “Yes, I’m in the right sector! Now will you-…?”

‘Zip-zip-zip,’ three rounds tailing vapour trails zipped overhead and their flight was punctuated with a trio of wet smacks, one after the other with barely a pause between. When Gabriel lifted his head a little to look, he saw the three shooters harassing him lay in various states of disassembly all over the crudely welded steel barricades they’d used for cover.

“Much obliged,” Gabriel growled as he stood and pushed forward.

His autogun remained level, one eye peering through the scope and the other past as he spotted figures on the far end of the courtyard. Most were running perpendicular to him, rushing towards the storm of mischief Gabriel’s sergeant and his convoy of goonies were kicking up. Others turned to re-enforce the admin building, receiving explosive anti-infantry slugs for their trouble.

Gabriel’s weapon shuddered as he fired and moved, the hefty rectangular suppressor on the muzzle doing its best to reduce the report of the rifle an octave below permanent hearing damage. Several of the figures running towards him dropped with a round to their chest or gut, subsequent explosion practically ripping the fleshy targets in two and throwing everything left to the ground with malicious disrespect.

As he darted towards the half-raised shutter door in the side of the admin building, something blurred in his right side periphery.

“Watch out!” Naestra called on comms, clearly watching closely. But it was too little, too late.

At the same time two clawed hands latched on to Gabriel’s rifle and pushed, the tooth-filled maw of a monster snapping dangerously close to his face. At least, it appeared to be a monster at first, with its slavering jaws lined with interlocking, pointed teeth. But aside from the long talons on its fingers, disproportioned limbs and flat face with purple-hued skin, the human features were still obvious on what had formerly been a refinery worker, evidenced by the oily coveralls that still hung in shreds over its body.

Like the others all over the refinery, this human-tyranid hybrid was bedecked in the iconography of their alien worshipping cult, it’s mental faculties decayed along with its body into worshipping the foul xenos that had forcibly infected and changed it from a man into a deformed abomination.

It snarled, nostril slits flaring as its red eyes flashed with violence. Lips, what little thin membranes existed in their place, peeled back and serrated teeth parted to allow a long whiplash tongue to flick out and snake about in the narrow space between them.

But Garbiel had been on Doska long enough to sample all the colourful beasties scrabbling around in the undergrowth. And that included everything the xeno cult had to offer. He’d been there, done that and bought the t-shirt.

Shoving as the hybrid pulled, he stopped deep between its feet, catching it off-balance and by surprise. Then anchoring himself he raised his rifle, and swung the entire hybrid over his shoulder, and threw it heavily into the deck with enough force to crack its skull open and splatter the pavement with purple blood. Then for good measure he stomped a boot on its throat, shoved the muzzle of his autogun in its face and pulled the trigger twice.

The sheer proximity of the barrel-to-target meant his custom explosive rounds didn’t make near enough revolutions to arm the payload. But a bullet to the brain was a bullet to the brain, and the handsy hybrid stopped twitching by the time Gabriel finished swapping magazines and pressed on.

He half ducked under the garage door and found himself on the edge of a factory. Pipes entered the cavernous chamber from all angles and several other roller doors on the far end hanging open in an attempt to ventilate the hot, humid place. Promethium flowed in through an oversized chemistry set, rolling from vat to vat, coiling through rubber and metal tubing, dripping from lines where dire maintenance was neglected, and pumping waste products produced during distillation – mostly – out of chimneys lining the roof.

The smell was as dizzying as the heat, both of which went unnoticed by the servitors clanking from station to station to ensure the main operations were running non-stop. Even though the promethium had nowhere to go.

Stepping off to one side, he darted up a set of metal stairs and into a corridor that connected with the elevated offices that sprawled over the upper floors above the refinery. The clean white walls cut out the noise of the churning machinery below, and much of the heat as well. But in the absence of air conditioning, the clean and quiet administrative floor was just as hot and humid as the air outside.

Made worse still by the heavy mouth-breathing of several dozen hybrids loitering around the corner. Gabriel almost ran into the mass of purple bodies, all of them heaving like they’d run a marathon. Red eyes flitted up to look at him as he frowned, stumbling back a few paces and keeping his autogun level.

He didn’t think as his weapon slipped into full-auto and he let the congregation have it. But thirty rounds wouldn’t be enough in the grand scheme of things. His traversing fire, raking left to right, cut down and mutilated a handful of the hybrids. But behind them even more mutants slowly turned, unphased, to size up the lone inquisitor who stood looking rather silly facing their bloodthirsty claws, clubs and knives with an empty, smoking rifle.

“Frack!” he curse as the rest of the horde rushed forward.

There was no time to reload, so he threw his weapon in its sling, drawing his sword free in the same practiced motion. The pale blue blade crackled to life with energy the moment it came free of the back-scabbard and he raised the weapon in a high guard to face the gibbering monsters.

“Frack-frack- frack!”

The weapon cracked and hummed as he started to cleave through the first few hybrids with deft, two handed strokes, swinging over and back. They came apart almost like soft cheese under a razor.

And still more threw themselves forward.

“Frak-frack-frack-frack-frack!”

Undeterred by the slippery mess of organs and body parts he reduced their fellows to, the rest piled on, throwing themselves on him in gibbering, suicidal droves. And Gabriel wasn’t, admittedly, the most efficient swordsman. He hadn’t gone to the froo-froo fanciful schools like many of his colleagues who became inquisitors. He was more a salt-of-the-earth type fellow. He’d been a shooting-war infantryman once upon a time, and close quarters combat with a sword was something he’d learned later as he survived trenches and assaults, and eventually inquisitor recruitment and training.

That wasn’t to say his technique was sloppy… just a little panicky as he chopped frantically through the fragile monsters.

“Frackfrackfrackfrackfrack!”

In that exact moment, as the gunfight raged on, another figure slipped undetected into the refinery. Lithe and swift, it dropped and rolled as it vaulted over the chainlink fence then darted towards the administration building, trailing a long shadowy cloak in its wake. With ease the figure scaled a section of scaffolding to where streams of pipes were suspended overhead, then cleared a five metre gap horizontally to a walkway.

From there it leapt back onto the guardrail and launched forward, soaring cleanly towards the admin building’s upper floor, tucking at the last moment to slip through an open window, then landed in a roll inside.

Naestra’s ranger sister, both metaphorically and literally, rose to her feet. Arahan would have been impossible to distinguish from Naestra standing in her place were it not for the aeldari’s austere glare marring her perfect doll-like features, and the silky white hair that flowed in straight tresses down to her shoulders.

Keeping her shuriken pistol gripped in two hands, she glided forward with surprising stealth considering the imperious height of her skinny boot heels. But she barely made a rustle of the long cloak draped over her shoulders as she pushed towards a ruckus erupting just around the corner. She paused, listening to the swish and crackle of a power sword cleaving through flesh, the hiss of dying hybrids… and the customary cry of distress coming from the inquisitor.

Speaking of the latter, Gabriel swiped through the last hybrid and came stumbling around the corner before he collapsed against a wall in front of Arahan. He was unharmed, but breathing heavily like he’d run the entire way to the refinery from their mountain base several hours flight away.

“There you are,” he panted between heavy breaths. “Why didn’t you help?”

Her eyes followed the blade he pointed into the massacre he cut through and she shrugged casually.

“You seemed to be doing fine on your own.”

Gabriel scoffed, sheathing his blade and reloading his autogun with a flick, followed by a slap that closed the bolt on a fresh caseless round with a satisfying ‘clack!’

Arahan sniffed as she watched him pass her on the way to the control room. Now the time for stealth had clearly passed, she followed with a more graceful sway of her hips, letting the attention-grabbing click of her stilettoes ring out.

“Perhaps if you took more care with your infiltration you wouldn’t get yourself into so much trouble. I had no issues whatsoever,” she added haughtily as Gabriel posted up by a nearby door.

“Well hooray for the perfect xeno princess,” Gabriel shot over his shoulder while he tested the door. The lock clicked and it started to swing open, but he recoiled as autogun fire inside rang out and several slugs ripped through the polymer door. “You know we can’t all be flawlessly graceful with a five-metre vertical leap.”

As Arahan positioned herself behind him, hand on his shoulder but her eyes rolling tiredly, Gabriel pulled a concussion grenade from his kit and primed it almost lazily.

“Oh, and by the way, I didn’t really need your help back there,” he teased, throwing the device into the room without even looking. His eyes were fixed on Arahan as he rattled on impatiently. “I just pretend, so you’ll feel useful, lest you devolve into a whiney, cold-hearted bi-…”

BANG!

Neither of them hesitated when the concussion grenade detonated and the shooting from inside the door, which had completely minced the door off its hinges at this point, halted abruptly. Weapon up, Gabriel pushed through the open doorway, dug into a corner on his right to check it was clear then swept his muzzle into the middle, identifying two hybrids recovering from the concussive blast of the grenade. He put them down, one after the other with three neatly placed shots each. The first two would have done it, but he was irritated, and it was free therapy.

Behind him Arahan had pushed in on his heels, swivelling immediately left like she knew exactly how Gabriel would clear the room, her own pistol barking in time with his rifle. When the noise settled down, the duo swept one more time to make sure it was clear.

“Two down. Clear,” Gabriel reported as he lowered his gun.

Arahan let a small smirk crack her stony features. “Four down. Clear,” she said sounding quite proud of herself.

Gabriel was clearly unimpressed. “Oh, you think you did better because you had more on your side of the room than I did? That’s cute. Because I’m adding these two that I got to the tally of like forty that I dealt with on my own back there.”

“Don’t be a brat.”

As if to be exactly that, Gabriel blew a raspberry, then stomped to the nearest console to start his work.

The cultist occupiers hadn’t ceased all production in the refinery. The automated tasks had continued to churn over, thus pumping in raw promethium from the nearby network of drilling stations to be refined and loaded onto auto-barges that would transport the stuff into orbit for distribution. That was where the supply line had been cut though. The cultists had disabled the servitor pilots on those barges, grounding all six of them along with the numerous metric tonnes of promethium they had on board. Refined promethium that was needed to fuel the Imperium.

Unshackling the servitors took only a few button presses. If only getting into the facility to do so could have been just easy.

The console rang and diagnostics readouts across the screens indicated the servitors were performing pre-flight checks. Mission accomplished… mostly anyway. It technically wasn’t a success until they got out in one piece to celebrate.

“Alright, we’re good. Let’s skidaddle,” he suggested and turned, only for Arahan to hold up her hand and stop him.

“We should secure this room. Make sure nobody re-shackles those servitors before the auto-barges can take off.”

She had a point, Gabriel hated to say. And he nodded in agreement. “Fair enough. We only should need to hold until pre-flight checks are done. Then they won’t be able to be stopped.”

Something flickered in Arahan’s eyes that Gabriel recognised. He’d just never seen it on her face during a mission though. “We’re in agreement then.”

“Uh… yeah. I suppose.”

“And can we also agree that you were the first of us to be discovered by the enemy.” A low mirthful tone had entered her cold monotone, and there was that flicker in her eyes again. Gabriel caught it more clearly now and realised what it was.

“Ugh. Yeah fine. I’ll be your trench bitch for fifteen minutes.” He rolled his eyes.

It was a little game the aeldari sisters and the inquisitor had started to play on Gestalt, and seemed to continue on for as long as the duo remained in Gabriel’s retinue. On a stealth mission, the first to be discovered had to be trench bitch for the others for at least fifteen minutes. Which in this case meant Gabriel had to do everything Arahan and Naestra asked of him for fifteen minutes straight.

“Excellent. Come here and f*ck me,” Arahan chirped, a smile tugging at her lips again. Trotting up to the nearest wall, she threw aside her cloak so it hung out of the way. Then she reached into the waistband of her skin-tight leggings and pulled them down in one motion, revealing her smooth toned thighs down to the knees.

Gabriel’s eyes bugged. “W-what? Right now?”

Her hands pressed against the wall, she looked over her shoulder with an expectant eyebrow raised. “Yes, right now. You’ve been so busy with work lately, you’ve neglected to breed me. I have needs, Gabriel. Now come over here and rut me like an animal.”

The human grunted, almost with pain as he felt his dick go from flaccid to painfully erect against the inside of his pants in half a second flat. Like a zombie, he shuffled up behind the familiar curvature of her rear, watching as she bent her knees a little to lower herself down to his crotch. He was shorter than her, but that was just aeldari problems.

As if making up for their height difference, he opened his pants then unfurled a more than impressive erection that never failed to turn Arahan’s legs to jelly… nor her sister’s for that matter.

She peered down at it over her shoulder and Gabriel caught her biting her bottom lip with excitement.

“If you’d be so kind as to hurry up,” Arahan whimpered.

Gabriel didn’t need to be asked twice. In a flash he was on her, his strong hands grabbing at her sleek hips as he positioned himself behind her. She could feel his arousal pressing against her smooth, hairless quim at the same time and her teeth sank deeper into her lower lip. The porcelain lips of her labia parted eagerly to let him into her honeyed flesh, and she felt the hot tip like an iron rod fresh form the forge explore the length of her silky folds. Up and up until…

She gaped, eyes fluttering, but just about managed to suppress her moan when his crown found the clenching little mouth of her arousal. Gabriel pushed and Arahan’s muscles relaxed, opening to him, letting him slide inch after tantalising inch of his co*ck into her eager body. Her back arched in response and she hungrily rocked back until the firm globes of her ass settled firmly against his hips.

Her body stretched deliciously as Arahan’s quim eagerly welcomed his aching need into her eager embrace. Slick walls clutched and rippled like a delicate velvet glove. Gabriel shifted his stance a little, hands moving from her hips to her taut ass cheeks. He gripped and kneaded the flesh hungrily, feeling her body tremble slightly under his touch and listening to her moan as he pulled back slightly, then slammed back in, burying as much of himself as she could take.

Which to be fair, was every delectable inch, even as his crown nudged her innermost core.

The room became a studio for the slick, slapping sounds of their lovemaking. And Arahan was as vocal as her slurping, sodden puss*, her keening little groans drowning out the distant sounds of battle as Gabriel pounded her harder and faster. Moans of pleasure turned desperate and Arahan’s mind races as his co*ck pounded in and out of her, her walls reflexively squeezing.

“You know,” Gabriel half growled, half wheezed with the effort of his firm strokes, “if Naestra catches us…”

He meant to add: “… she’ll be inconsolably jealous,” even though they both knew the other sister would be far from inconsolable; nor would she be all that jealous, so long as Gabriel offered her his next erection.

But Arahan cut him off, her voice a low growl between breathless moans of encouragement. “Then she can damn well watch!”

Gabriel chuckled into the greedy aeldari’s white hair. He let his hands slide up along her flat belly, following the subtle curves and bumps of her muscle and bone beneath the silky smooth exterior until his fingers sank into the softness of her ample breasts. Palms tested their weight which undulated subtly in time with his thrusts, and he trapped her erect pink nipples between thumbs and forefingers in teasing pinches and tugs.

Arahan’s own fingers dug into the cold metal wall, her knuckles white like the sex-crazed, frenzied slu*t she turned out to be under her unbroken expression of solemnity. Gabriel’s co*ck dragged it all out of her as it assaulted her core with rough, bruising, unyielding pressure over and over again. Just how Arahan loved it, they all knew, but she’d never admit to it out loud. Not until Gabriel broke her just the way she liked him to.

And even still, there were little things Gabriel knew could let the cat out of the bag early.

“Moan for me, little xenos slu*t,” the inquisitor demanded softly in her ear, and Arahan obeyed as reflexively as her body rose to org*sm around the pounding of his erection.

Her mewls echoed throughout the chamber, blending with the sound of their bodies coming together. His hips slapped against her bare ass as he drove in and out of her wet, eager hole. Arahan’s hands slipped on the wall and she pushed back into him, wanting him deeper, harder and faster.

The motion was a wordless command and Gabriel was happy to oblige, slamming into her with raw unrelenting force. His pace became punishing for them both, wearing down Gabriel’s stamina like he was a video game character out for a leisurely jog, while mercilessly pounding Arahan’s cervix with soft smooches of his glans, drawing a shaky, keening wail from the ranger. Trickles of warm fluid were running down her sleek thigh, soaking into her bunched up leggings. Her knees trembled and despite her usual grace and preternatural balance, her ankles wobbled and threatened to buckle over the stiletto heels of her boots.

Arahan gasped for breath, her fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth wall. Gabriels’ hands were back on her hips, fingers digging in deep for purchase as he drove himself into her quivering, wanting flesh.

“Almost,” Arahan moaned, her voice a small whisper over the sounds of lovemaking. “I’m almost there. Ahnf~! ♥Gabriel♥!”

Shivers lanced down Arahan’s spine in time with the lustful thrusts of her lover, the first embers of a raging org*sm beginning to catch in her core.

“Don’t stop~!” she hissed. Her voice was cracked and raw.

And the command was somewhat redundant anyway. It would take more than a few hybrids tumbling in to crash their party for Gabriel to stop at this point. And even with that danger on the periphery of his thoughts, his pace increased until not even their moans could be heard over the slick, erotic sounds of their sex echoing around the control room.

Very suddenly as if a switch were thrown, Arahan’s legs gave out, but Gabriel was there as always to catch her. He wrapped his arms around her midsection with ironclad strength, holding her in place while every inch of his co*ck hilted into her wonderful sheath. The tip prodded her innermost core firmly, making Arahan cry out, almost screaming. Her back arched as the burning coals in her core combusted into a raging inferno of pleasure.

Waves of ecstasy washed over the aeldari woman like an otherworldly delight, making her shiver and her sheath spasm around his throbbing need. Gabriel could feel it, the tightening of her c*nt sending him hurtling over his own edge until there was no holding back.

Arahan’s org*sm was wet and warm, and while Gabriels was arguably the same, hers came in a single long tsunami. It flowed down her inner thighs, dribbled from Gabriel’s clenching balls and formed a small puddle between their boots.

Gabriel came at the same time, hilted in her like that. His throbbing tip massaged the neck of her womb in a delightful little swirl that made Arahan choke on her breath, then he released long waves of his seed into her quivering body. Her walls milked him for every dreg, squeezing at the apex of every trembling release, daring him to withhold even a drop from her.

“Warm~!” Arahan whispered shakily, her cheeks blushing the way they always did when Gabriel filled her to satisfaction. Even when her austere expression didn’t break during a frantic lovemaking session, that blush was a constant clear signal she loved what she had just received.

Catching her breath, some sobriety seemed to ease back into her aspect, but it looked weird with those red cheeks as she looked over her shoulder. Her eyes were clearly hooded with desire, and her lips were curled with a very subtle grin that even Gabriel almost missed.

“We still have work to do,” she said, barely keeping the tremor of deep satisfaction from her voice. And with that she straightened, towering over her human inquisitor again. And there was no mistake; he was hers at that moment, her gaze fixed on him and oozing possessiveness.

She lifted off his co*ck with an audible pop, which was still hard and coated in a co*cktail of their juices as it slipped from her tight crease. But the way he’d stretched her, Arahan’s walls were too slow to close and with a faint gurgle, a long stream of his seed, foiled in its attempts to stay inside her by gravity, oozed out of her quim.

She caught it before it made the slow journey down her long thigh by yanking her leggings back up over her ass and wriggling her hips side to side in a brief time-tempered dance all women knew as ‘pulling on pants that were at least a size too small.’

In just a few minutes Arahan had transitioned from co*ck-hungry-slu*t to org*sm-drunk bimbo and back to business as usual completely seamlessly. But the satisfaction remained clear behind Arahan’s eyes even as her pistol came back out of its holster and she watched with vague disappointment as Gabriel re-dressed himself.

At that point the consoles chirped. The pre-flight checks were done and the servitors were contacting the automated flight control systems for take-off. There would be no more stopping the barges now, and with gibbering hybrids figuring out what was happening and swarming towards the control room, it was time to leave.

Gabriel pushed out and swung hard right, aiming the way they’d come just in time to sight and tag two hybrids with weapons. He gunned them both down and pushed the rest into cover, keeping them pinned with sporadic shots. Arahan was out after him, pistol up and securing the way ahead. When she was set, Gabriel tossed a krak grenade around behind him and into the control room.

“Krak out!” was followed by an earth-shaking boom that reverberated through his boots, and he reported: “Control room, secure. Let’s bounce.”

Arahan led the way to the stairwell with Gabriel matching her step. He paused as slugs whistled through the corridor past them and put accurate fire back on the hybrids. Then he followed Arahan up, pausing once to deposit an anti-personnel mine on the bottom tread.

Winding their way up the metal steps, they emerged onto the roof where Arahan smoothly transitioned to her longrifle and swept the nearby rooftops and upper gantries of the refinery for crack-shot threats. Gabriel sealed the rooftop access door behind them just as the mine he left behind exploded and slowed pursuit. Still, for good measure he slipped a quick-weld kit into the slot between the door and the frame and tugged the ripcord. In an instant the volatile chemicals in the kit mixed, creating an extreme exothermic reaction, fusing the door’s lock into the fame and essentially welding the door in place.

“That oughta hold ‘em. Could use a pickup, now-now-now!” he barked into his throat mic as he scanned the sky.

“Already on the way. Keep your pants on… for now,” Naestra teased over comms, that she full well knew everybody could listen in on.

The valkyrie pilot chortled as she added “Five seconds to extraction.” And almost exactly on cue, one of the thick black smokestacks spit apart, with the aircraft coming in fast with the nose dipped and whisps of black smoke spiralling in the backwash of the engines.

The wide ass suddenly dropped and the valkyrie slowed before rotating and hovering just above them, whipping the duo in the wind of the VTOL turbines. The side of the bulky craft hung open, and Naestra’s slender, leggy figure was crouched on the edge of the hold, her rifle angled down and muzzle flashing as she fired into targets.

Behind them, the large, bulky auto-barges were taking to the sky. The first was already fading into the distance, rockets rumbling noisily in the distance. The second hovered in place, held there by six tilting rockets that swivelled on their nacelles. The craft turned, angled upward, then with a roar of its engines rose up into the sky to pursue the first.

Beside where Naestra braced herself, a crew chief kicked out a length of rope ladder that clattered to the rooftop beside Arahan.

“I’ll cover,” Gabriel said as the roof access door behind them buckled, and he turned to aim at it. “Go!”

Arahan was on the ladder in a moment, scaling the length in just a few seconds. When she clambered nimbly into the aircraft behind her sister she called down on comms, the noise of the engines blaring in the background.

“I’m in!”

Gabriel’s turn, he threw his autogun into its sling and reached for the rope ladder. But as he touched the first rung, the third barge hovered into place, only for one of the engines to explode in a fireball. The inquisitor recoiled, and so too did the valkyrie pilot, causing the craft to wobble and sway off-course, dragging the ladder across the rooftop and out of reach at the same time.

The massive auto-barge began to list, just as Gabriel saw the reason for the first explosion. A second rocket streaked up into the air, missing the valkyrie by a wide margin, but striking the barge in the mid-section. Power flickered and the engines began to flash off one at a time, sending the immense aircraft plummeting towards them.

“Oh, frack! Bug out! Bug out!” Gabriel yelled waving off the valkyrie, whose pilot already had a read on the situation.

The VTOL screamed as it angled sharply away and ducked out of view. Gabriel at the same time dove to the deck and curled into a protective ball, for all the good that would do with the immense twelve-tonne barge bearing down over him.

The craft rumbled and creaked disturbingly as metal screamed and tore. The shadow flitted over Gabriel and the barge missed the rooftop, smashing into the mid-section of the refinery, piling through lengths of piping and toppling support beams like dominoes. Promethium hissed as it was released in great, spurting org*smic gouts across the barge as it slid to a halt with a pained screech, then thudded abruptly as it came to rest.

Gabriel scrambled to his feet, wondering where the almighty ‘boom’ was. Certainly there would be an earth-shattering ‘boom.’

He pulled a face at the realisation, then turned and ran for the far end of the rooftop. He got about three paces in before the barge finally did explode, and the wave of forceful heat lifted him off his feet and threw him, along with several metal sheets of what used to be the administrative building’s rooftop clean into the air.

Clearing the edge, Gabriel plummeted then grunted hard as he crashed into one of the fat pipes, slid over the far edge then fell another dozen feet before landing with a violent rattle on a metal gantry. Groaning he managed to sit up, his limbs numb and his head spinning. The air around him had taken on a fiery, apocalyptic hue of red. Hellish winds whipped the hot stench of burning promethium in an eye-watering whirlwind all around as he took in his surrounds. There was almost nothing to see as a haze descended over the burning refinery, reducing visibility to just a few feet.

Comms chatter blared in Gabriel’s ear like an alien language. What little he could decipher was Naestra and Arahan ordering the pilot to circle around to look for him, while the sergeant in charge of the goonies was rallying his boys for a retreat.

Just then the gantry shifted and rattled and he lunged reflexively for a handhold, afraid the whole structure might flip and toss him overboard. Up ahead the reason for the subtle shift appeared, a silhouette in the haze. A gangly hybrid rubbing at its eyes came stumbling into view, waving a snub nosed pistol in front of it.

The two locked eyes for a moment before the hybrid raised its pistol. Gabriel instinctively went for his sword, for whatever good it would do. The hybrid would pump him full of lead before he could even draw the weapon, never mind clear the distance between them.

But in that moment it fell from the sky, butt first and cracked the hybrid in the head. The thing toppled forward, faceplanting in a daze as Gabriel’s saviour, his custom autogun, clattered to his boots.

“Emperor protects,” he muttered with surprise, and that was about all the precious few seconds he’d waste thinking about his luck.

Scrambling forward he scooped the autogun up by the grip, righted the weapon against his shoulder and executed the hybrid before it could recover.

By the time Gabriel straightened up, the chatter in his ear had focused as the initial panic passed.

“Fall back! Fall back!” the sergeant shouted before addressing Gabriel. “Sah! Are you alright?”

“I’m breathing. Status!” Gabriel demanded.

“I got the lads clear. We’re peeling back, leading stragglers into a kill-zone. Do you have extraction?”

“Don’t worry about me, just get clear. Naestra, did you get eyes on the man-pad that took out that barge?”

“I did,” Arahan responded, sounding almost offended he would trust Naestra’s eyes over hers. “An elevated position, some two-hundred metres east of your position.”

There was a howl of valkyrie engines overhead, but Gabriel couldn’t see them. Though they clearly had eyes on him. “Roger. Walk me there. I have to take them out before they get the other barges!”

Naestra chimed in, the worry palpable in her voice. “Gabriel, the refinery is on fire. You won’t have time to circle around and deal with the launchers before-…”

As she was talking a hot wind washed over Gabriel, parting the hellish haze enough to reveal a barge just a hundred metres away beginning to rise from its landing gear, gently bobbing skyward into the hungry sights of the hybrids on the rocket launcher.

“Time’s up! Moving!” he barked, turning and pounding towards a set of stairs in a dead sprint.

He dropped three at a time before leaping clean over the railing for the final flight, hitting the asphalt with a roll. The stumble felt clumsier than it looked, but Gabriel managed to keep his footing as he delved into the red murk, the flash and flicker of flames beginning to resolve all around. He had no idea where he was or where he was going, but trusted Arahan’s words in his ear implicitly.

“Hook left,” she instructed calmly. “Keep the admin building on your left and continue past the loading bays. After the third bay take a sharp right, move around the base of a support beam… oh, just jump over the rubble you big baby. Keep moving. Okay, now the building in front of you is a workshop and on the roof-WAIT! STOP! STOP!”

Gabriel skidded to a halt at Arahan’s uncharacteristically panicked shout just as a wall of flames rose up from a pool of spilled promethium. He jumped back as the heat blasted him, shading his face behind his arm.

That pause cost him time, and looking up as he heard a whoosh, he saw a missile streak up into the air towards the next barge. It had come from the roof of the workshop. Gabriel was right on top of his target, and he was still too slow.

Just then the valkyrie re-appeared, spitting glowing flares in an eagle-wing pattern. The heat signatures confused the missile’s tracking system and it dipped, colliding with one of the hot flares and detonating in the air. The valkyrie moved clear in that same instant, just as the blast made the craft wobble and the auto-barge began its journey skyward.

“We can’t do that again, and we can’t stick around to take shots at those man-pads. They have us locked in!” the pilot reported over the blaring master alarms ringing through her co*ckpit.

“Rog’! Keep clear! I’m heading up now!” Gabriel barked as he circled the wall of flame and ducked into the workshop.

Fire was spreading through windows and under the garage door right on Gabriel’s heels, pools of promethium flowing out ahead of the flames like fast-moving lava. He darted between stacks of equipment and leapt onto a workbench before hopping across a flow of flickering promethium spreading under the bottom tread of a stairway leading up towards the flat roof. The metal treads sagged and melted as supports buckled beneath Gabriel, but he just about kept clear of the carnage as he ran up three steps at a time to the first gantry, outran the twisting, warping metal at his heels and flew up the final steps towards the roof.

He didn’t even pause to draw a krak grenade, simply throwing it as he ran. It detonated with a ‘BOOM’ just as he crested the rooftop with his autogun up and set to full-automatic.

Five hybrids were scattered, three of them holding bulky rocket launchers that fell awkwardly to the ground as the crowd was nicely seasoned with shrapnel. Gabriel hit them with traversing fire before they could recover. The riflemen dropped first, blown apart into bloody chunks by his explosive rounds, before he dumped the rest of his mag into the others.

Except his shots went wild. They all cratered into the floor as the whole rooftop sagged, cracks ripping across the concrete making Gabriel and the remaining hybrids lose footing and drop onto hands and knees with surprise.

Then before any of them could cry out, a perfect circle of rubble collapsed into the workshop and down into the burning lake of promethium below.

Naestra watched it happen as the valkyrie moved in for another pass, seeing the man-pads were stunned by the grenade. She’d ordered the pilot to go in so she and Arahan could lend supporting fire. But just then, they watched roof, their lover included, collapse into a pool of flame.

“Gabriel!” Naestra screamed, leaning out the side of the Valkyrie for a better look. She was shouting at the pilot to take them lower, to the rather obvious residence from the pilot.

“He’s still alive,” Arahan assured. “I’m still reading his transponder.”

“There!” Naestra cried, pointing.

Sure enough, a figure hung with his fingers slipped between crags of broken concrete. Gabriel dangled near the edge of the collapsed roof, the soles of his boots beginning to melt over the hellfire. Swinging his other arm up he managed to anchor himself, before slowly clambering up towards the partially stable edge of the rooftop, but chunks of concrete crumbled under his hands and feet, threatening to drop him to his death.

The pilot brought them down as low as she could, engines spluttering and choking in the heat and smoke, and the whole VTOL swayed drunkenly. Naestra was flush on the floor of the craft, arm stretched out the hatch and reaching down for Gabriel who reached up towards her.

Their fingertips touched a moment, but only brushed, prompting Naestra to desperately lean further out the side of the valkyrie. So much so she would have plummeted headfirst out towards Gabriel were Arahan not holding her by the back of her armour.

“Come on, little inquisitor! Reach! Just a little more!”

“I’m not short, you pointy-eared weirdo!”

Gabriel slipped again as the concrete gave out under him one more time. It seemed helpless for a moment and the desperation was visible on Naestra’ face again.

As if spurred on by that, Gabriel hauled himself up, coiled with his boots planted on a piece of sagging rebar, then leaped with all his might. That final jump gave him the extra foot of elevation he needed as the building completely crumbled underneath him and threatened to plunge him into the pool of fire…

When Gabriel’s hand locked around Naestra’s wrist, and hers wrapped tightly around his.

The pilot fought for altitude as Gabriel was pulled aboard, and with all hands secure they pulled out completely. Behind them, the sixth and final barge rose out of the banks of acrid black smoke, then took to the sky as behind them the refinery exploded with finality.

Part 2
“That facility cost several billion crowns to build, and another billion to bring into operation! We haven’t even seen a fraction on its return on investment yet, and you blew it all up!”

The planetary governor’s holographic avatar flinched as the feedback from his shout resonated back and forth over the commlink with an ululating wail. It faded quickly though as the engineers behind Gabriel in the comms array worked their technical magic.

Still, it didn’t change the fact this pudgy planetary governor trapped in the worst uncanny valley of balding was yelling at an agent of the inquisition from up high in his ivory tower in Doska’s capitol. He had such a position of safety despite all the war raging through the galaxy, and on his own damn planet, that the governor seemed to have lost all cautious trepidation around agents of the Throne such as Gabriel.

He kept his patience though. “Err, to be fair, governor, it was the hybrid cultists doing the blowing up of stuff.”

The governor’s eyes widened and he tutted sharply. “Really, inquisitor? What backwater hole in the galaxy were you raised in? You can’t call them that!”

“Call them what? Cultists? But they’re member of a cult that goes against-…”

“Hybrids!” the governor cried, seeming more displeasured by the fact he had to say the word out loud. “We don’t use that sort of language on Doska anymore. We are an evolved society who have some respect for the genetically divergent.”

Gabriel blinked. “Genetically div-whatnow?”

“And while we’re on the matter of our cultist neighbours, what of my suggestion that you simply negotiate with these people? If it’s simply a tax-exempt status they’re after for their church…”

Gabriel raised a hand to cut the planetary governor off. “With respect, sir, it’s not that kind of cult. They’re not interested in taxes. More so they plan to eat and assimilate everyone on this planet!”

“Eat us? My dear boy, are you mad?”

Relieved the governor was finally putting on a more appropriately concerned tone, Gabriel shook his head. “No, governor. I’m quite serious. Tyranids do indeed-…”

“You can’t just go around blurting out that these diverse visitors to our fair world eat people, just because they have a little tyranid heritage!” the governor exploded in a rage, making Gabriel raise his eyebrows in concern. “And even if they indulge in acts of cannibalism, who are we to deny them the right to engage in the traditions and culture of their people?”

Gabriel stared with his mouth agape. Had the governor been huffing his own promethium stores? He was about to ask exactly that when the planetary governor seemed to have lost his patience for the conversation and cut the transmission entirely.

The inquisitor coughed. “Did he just hang up on me?”

There was a burst of static before a mechanical vocal box behind him chirped: “I believe he did.”

Had the whole galaxy gone mad? Why did Gabriel keep running into these witless planetary governors? First the tactically illiterate bureaucrat on Gestalt, now a rabid political panderer!

Gabriel whipped around to address the pair of crimson robed technical liaisons he’d added to his retinue from the adeptus mechanicus when he re-tasked to Doska. The ‘cogheads’ as they were affectionately known were brothers, both working in tandem of each other as if they read each other’s minds. Which, considering they were ninety-nine-percent machine, was probably actually the case.

The duo were identical in their sharp movements of mechanical claws typing over consoles and fiddling with dials. Even the folds in their crimson robes were identical. The only distinguishing features were the eyes, glowing optics under the gloomy shadow cast by their baggy hoods. Wun’s eyes were green, while Zee-roh’s glowed a pale blue.

“Call him back right now!” Gabriel demanded.

Wun raised his claws in a shrug. “We’re trying, inquisitor. I’m sorry, but…”

“… but he seems to be blocking our calls,” Zee-roh added, his mechanical voice identical to his brothers, probably right down to the scientific wavelength if Gabriel cared to measure.

Wonderful. Gabriel rubbed his eyes in frustration. This whole mission on Doska had been spiralling the drain since day one. The xenos cult flourished despite how many followers his retinue put in the ground, and no matter how much promethium he saved or liberated, the local governor was up his ass over petty things like ‘phrasing!’

He was about to retire to his private quarters with a bottle of whiskey when the cogheads chirped like a ringing phone.

“Incoming call,” Wun explained, and the holo-tank opposite Gabriel lit up again.

For a moment Gabriel dared hope the planetary governor’s high had faded and he came to the sobering realisation Doska was f*cked in the worst possible way. But in place of the planetary governor’s girthy frame stood a tall, slender figure clad in a sleek, flattering suit of ebony armour. She had a long, slender figure that was right over the borders of athletic and into the realms of sensual, especially considering her face didn’t match the trim, limber form of her body. Creases, some of them probably scars etched her thin, feminine face, her full ruby lips flanked by deep laugh lines despite the look of a woman who probably never stooped to such an aspect. More creases surrounded her smoky eyes and she had straight silver tresses cut in a reverse bob, long bangs framing her mature, but serviceably handsome face.

Were she not lacking the typical teardrop tattoo of their division, this woman, a commander from the Ordo Xenos, would have looked right at home as member of the adepta sorotitas. She certainly had the terse expression of a bolter-bitch down to an art form.

“Inquisitor Gabriel,” her voice snapped, in turn snapping Gabriel to pristine attention.

“I-Inquisitor Sabel,” Gabriel stammered, caught off guard. “It’s… uh… g-good to see you.”

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. And then, much to his shock, the corners of her lips raised, a few millimetres. “And you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel didn’t relax, more so out of confusion. Inquisitor Sabel had been supervising his operations from afar on Gestalt, and during that time she hadn’t exactly been fond of him. He chalked that up to the almost stagnant operational momentum at the time. But he had noticed a slightly warmer tone in her voice when at the end of that campaign he reported impressive progress in the decimation of Tau Empire forces.

Now though, to see her lips curl up even slightly out of her usual impatient grimace was heart-stopping. She was honestly the prettier for it, despite her advanced age and he dared to wonder what a full smile would look like.

“Do you have an update for me?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. The last operation was a success. We suffered no losses and liberated five of the six barges. But the refinery was lost.”

She hummed thoughtfully, eyes remaining fixed on Gabriel’s. Now would be about the time for her grin to fade and her wrath to fall on Gabriel. But it didn’t. She patiently continued in her husky tone, “Disappointing. I would have preferred all six barges, but these things happen. It is certainly better than nothing. The situation on Doska has been desperate for a long time. Anything you do now, even with hiccups, is better than what the planetary governor has managed so far. Good work, and keep it up. Crush the xenos invaders by any means necessary.”

“Y-yes, ma’am. And thank you, ma’am.”

“In the meantime, my assault carrier is due to be in your locality next month. Perhaps if you’re still at it my retinue can lend a hand?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’d appreciate the assistance.”

Her smirk crept a little higher and there was something new in that hooded look of hers. Something… excited? “Good. I’ll be receiving your next report in person, all going well. Until then, inquisitor.”

And then like that, Inquisitor Sabel’s image flicked off and Gabriel stared into the space the woman had stood, completely dazed.

That was until one of the cogheads chortled. “Teacher’s pet.”

Whipping around, Gabriel saw both the ad-mech technicians were avoiding his glare, tugging at their hoods to cover their faces a little more as they giggled mechanically.

“Is there a problem, boys?” Gabriel demanded.

“Oh, no problem, inquisitor,” Zee-roh assured. “No problem at all with your older girlfriend.”

That made Wun snort so loudly he misted the air on front of him with black oil-like spittle.

Rolling his eyes at the two recent additions to his retinue, Gabriel took his leave. Stepping out of the comms array and not the evening air, he took a winding stone staircase down the steep mountain valley that was sectioned off. It was one of the few places the invasive jungle had trouble growing, giving the perimeter guards clear sight-lines for hundreds of metres. And the sheer terrain, with steps and ramps cut out for the retinue to traverse quickly while any invader would be forced to climb precariously out in the open gave them a solid home-field advantage against any sort of assault.

A few hundred metres below the comms array which was built on elevation to better clear the mountainous terrain, the trenches levelled out into a series of ancient plateaus that had been carved into the rock some hundred years ago when the base was first established. Gabriel’s retinue had since inherited the real-estate after landing on Doska.

Or rather, he should have said ‘acquired’ the real-estate.

Further down among the battlements guardsmen lifted their gazes and addressed their commander as he passed. And Gabriel respectfully greeted them back, even if he didn’t know them all by name. On many he recognised the patch of goonie platoon, but there were a lot of reinforcements after the operation on Gestalt.

Among them were many young but experienced guardswomen, including a certain young lady Naestra was chatting with.

The aeldari ranger’s black hair was whipped up by a breeze that also tugged at the sky-blue dress she wore. Its skirt was a modest length, except for the long slits down the sides revealing the full length of her pale legs ending in a pair of high heels that buckled around her ankles. The front of the dress, if it could even be called that, plunged down to her navel, revealing the tantalising valley between her perky breasts.

She was slightly stooped, watching the guardswoman who seemed to be adjusting the cuff of her shirt. And then with a flourish like a magician, the woman drew some complicated looking array of straps attached to a pair of cups from her sleeve.

Gabriel stopped dead, staring at the woman’s bra, removed without having to remove the flack-vest or her shirt.

She sighed with relief and nodded in agreement to some comment Naestra must have made before Gabriel arrived. “Wow. That is soooo much more comfortable in this jungle heat.”

Naestra smiled. “Told you so. It’s a freeing sensation, isn’t it?”

About then Gabriel cleared his throat, making his presence known. Naestra, unabashed as ever simply smiled. “Oh, hello, inquisitor.”

At those words the guardswoman snapped to a stiff attention, her face turning bright red under the rim of her helmet. That was when Gabriel noticed not only the recently removed bra in her one hand, but a bunched up set of panties not at all unlike something Naestra or her sister would wear clenched in her other hand.

In fact, the longer he looked at it, the more he came to realise that pattern of lace was of the swirling aeldari aesthetic that only a few nights ago had been circling Naestra’s trim…

He blinked and shook his head as he looked up. “Private, there’s a uniform standard to uphold. And that includes underwear,” he told her patiently.

Her gaze panned to Naestra’s breezy dress, silently asking ‘so what’s her excuse?’

Gabriel frowned, just as silently answering ‘no excuse, I just can’t make her dress even if I wanted to.’

“We’re expected in the briefing room soon,” Naestra interrupted gently, sensing the silent conversation.

She bid goodbye to her guard friend and led Gabriel away. And in that moment he noticed how the guardswoman was less than subtle about the way she eyed down along Naestra’s retreating figure, chewing her bottom lip in the way a girl with a crush tended to do.

As they moved through the base, Gabriel jogged to keep up with the aeldari’s long legged strides.

“Our situation is growing more tentative,” she said over her shoulder, the words sounding like a matter of fact, but there was concern in her voice. “Hybrid cultists are growing in numbers beyond our control. They’re breeding up a storm out in the jungle and we’re hopeless to slow them down.”

Gabriel grunted in agreement. “Unfortunately the planetary governor isn’t going to be much help. But at least my commander at the Ordo Xenos understands what needs to be done to save Doska. She just gave me the green light to do whatever it takes. And she’ll be joining us within the month to lend aid.”

“Teacher’s pet,” Nastra mumbled lightly, mirroring the sentiment of the cogheads.

Throwing her a sarcastic look, Gabriel continued, “But if things get too rough we may need to cut our losses.”

“Doesn’t the Imperium need all the promethium reserves, especially now? Without it the Imperium could fall. And after that, my people. The Ynnari…” Naestra trailed off as she let Gabriel catch up. The concern wasn’t written on her face, but it was palpable in her eyes.

He knew he had her loyalty to the bitter end, she and Arahan had pledged themselves to his retinue. To him, as a matter of fact. But their concerns for the fate of the aeldari as a whole would always remain in the back of her mind.

Gabriel grinned, gently touching the small of her back comfortingly. “One problem at a time.”

He wasn’t sure if his words did the trick, but his hand on her body certainly helped alleviate her concerns, and her smile fluttered back to life.

“Arahan should be back from recon soon,” Naestra said, changing the subject as she whirled and led Gabriel down some metal steps. Serveral uniformed members of the retinue jumped aside and stood to attention, letting the inquisitor and his aeldari lady-friend pass. Gabriel offered a few salutes of respect, while Naestra flashed each a warm smile of thanks. “We’ll have more information on the broodlord’s movements soon, and hopefully we’ll liberate Doska of its evil just as quickly.”

Naestra pushed open a door off to the side, much to Gabriel’s confusion. He paused outside, looking ahead as Naestra disappeared over the threshold and out of sight.

“Isn’t the briefing room that way?” he began to ask, but he was interrupted by Naestra’s slender hand reaching out, grabbing a hand full of his shirt and dragging him in after her, before the door slammed shut behind them.

The room wasn’t so much a room but a cramped and narrow supply closet with just enough space to let them stand side by side. So long as they were squished together like awkward lovers. Which was coincidentally how Naestra arranged him, keeping Gabriel firmly nestled against the flimsy silk of her lovely dress and the tantalising softness of her sleek body just below. Their height difference was even more obvious at that proximity, his eyes only just about level with the valley between her ample breasts, which hung naturally with her nipples beginning to poke ostentatiously through the dress. And speaking of eyes, his were wide open with surprise and lingering confusion, even though it seemed rather obvious what Naestra was up to.

Glancing up he caught a wicked edge to Naestra’s mischievous smile. “But Arahan can wait a few minutes… hopefully longer,” she whispered, low and seductive.

Gabriel’s pulse quickened as Naestra started to re-arrange her dress. Her breasts slipped form the plunging collar with ease and she pulled the back of his head encouragingly until she directed his lips around a firm, pink nipple. He suckled and licked immediately, rewarded by her pleased gasp as she started to move her skirt aside. Gabriel’s hand moved up her smooth thigh at the same time and touched the damp lips of her labia, puffy and swollen with need.

Naestra’s guardswoman fiend wasn’t the only one, it seemed, disobeying the retinue’s basic dress code; naughty girl.

He continued to suckle as his fingers traced up through her soft folds. He felt her back arch off the wall, bucking her puss* tighter into his touch. And in devious response, he pulled away, earning a needy whimper from the woman.

“Come back. Touch me,” she pleaded in a whisper.

A glance at her face was all that was needed to see Naestra was nothing like her austere sister. This aeldari ranger’s middle-name was passion. She let the desire be written all over her perfect aspect. Her eyes were closed, red lips parted as she panted for breath, and every muscle in her doll-like face relaxed. Centred there, most importantly, was her graceful smile.

Naestra had always been the more affable of the two elven sisters. And it showed as Gabriel’s fingers slid between her quivering labia. Her eyes shot open and her moan was so loving and affectionate, Gabriel would have swelled to a full erection even if his eyes had been closed. Her long fingers reached down to tease it out of his pants, then traced her fingertips lovingly along the length.

She pulled his face away from her breast at the same time and forced him up onto the tips of his toes so their lips could meet. The kiss was deep and voracious, a clear indication that the lust had been smouldering in Naestra’s mind for too long. Their tongues danced while Gabriel’s free hand stroked along her perfect body and halted on the soft curvature of her rear. She lifted her leg in response as if to bear more of her firm curvature for him, and with a scrape of a stiletto heel she planted her foot on the wall behind him while she balanced on the toes of the other.

When their kiss broke he settled his face between their breasts while her delicate digits guided the tip of his co*ck up along her sleek thigh. She licked her lips, feeling a warm smear of precum spread up her leg. He was ready for her, and yet it was but a shadow of how ready her percolating little slit was for him.

If she was wet before – forced to listen to Arahan’s moans over the comms as they rutted like unaware animals during the mission, completely oblivious to how Naestra quietly touched herself in her sniper hide – then she was positively dripping now. Her juices gleamed in the dim light of the supply closet like some holy nectar giving off an aethereal glow. She was slippery and wet, and there mere act of sliding his crown along her waiting c*nt made them both tremble with pleasure.

Then Gabriel plunged home. His thick, rigid shaft disappeared into her tight heat slowly – lovingly. Naestra’s back arched and her mouth gaped in a silent scream. One hand was keeping his face between her breasts, the other sank her nails into his shoulder through his shirt.

Naestra’s puss* seemed to swallow and gulp, hungrily sucking him in and Gabriel could swear he felt her cervix begin to suckle at his tip as if it was trying to pull him even deeper inside her. The rippling walls made it almost impossible to pull out again, and there was an active resistance until he was about halfway out and let himself be dragged back into her again.

Her moan erupted so loudly it was a wonder the entire retinue didn’t come bursting in. But even if they did, Gabriel wouldn’t have cared. Nor would he have been able to stop himself from continuing to f*ck the aeldari bueaty he had pinned to the wall while she keened in his ear for more.

Their lovemaking continued slow and rhythmic, making them lose all sense of time. And somehow the affair was even more intense than the feverish way Arahan would demand Gabriel f*ck her with reckless abandon. As if the act of holding back his primal urges and set a romantic pace took altogether more effort.

Turning his head, Gabriel suckled one of Naestra’s nipples hanging at convenient mouth-height and lapped firmly, making her head fall back with a soft thud against the wall.

“Good boy,” she breathed in a high-pitched moan. “You make me feel so nice. I’m so wet for you, my little inquisitor. Keep loving me like that.”

He growled into her breast and was almost tempted to thrust into her with one of the hard slams her sister loved so. He wasn’t short, damn it!

Though he did nip at her nipple with his teeth, making Naestra giggle between her moans. She understood full and well that she’d deserved that. And the way she was starting to buck her hips forward to meet his strokes made him figure maybe she wanted him to punish her a little.

Gabriel’s thrusts became deeper, more urgent despite the effort he took to keep his rhythm. His co*ck grew thicker with need, and Naestra’s puss* responded by getting even wetter. Just how much further was she going to take him?

Not much further it seemed, as Naestra’s body tensed. Her toes curled in her shoes as she felt his tip swell against the neck of her womb. She could feel that need, that throb of desperation vibrate through her, and in turn brought her to the cusp of completion. Her hand digging into his back suddenly darted up over her head and slapped at the wall behind her, desperately scrambling for something to hold on to. Her legs were trembling, her knees were weak and her heel scraped on the wall as it lost purchase thanks to the tremors.

Her puss* fluttered, milking his co*ck as he thrust into her with finality, making the xenos woman cream all over his length after what felt like hours of patient lovemaking.

“Cum, my darling,” she whispered in his ear. Her voice was low and calm, but trembled with need. Her words were as much an order as some of Gabriel’s shouts for troop compliance on the battlefield. “♥Cum♥! Cum for me. Put your babies in me. Make me the mother to your beautiful children.”

His hips jerked forward to respond to her words and his co*ck swelled for a final surge. The roar building in his chest was muffled against the softness of her breasts as his balls clenched, ready to unload. Then every muscle in his body tensed, making him growl a low “f*ck!” before he emptied himself into her welcoming heat. Naestra shuddred as she felt him pour his essence into her. Her legs gave out all the way and she would have collapsed had Gabriel not been there to hold her upright, fingers sinking into the firm curves of her ass as they rode out their joint org*sms together.

Their bodies were slick with sweat that could have just as easily been Doska’s humid heat. But what was not the fault of the planet’s climate were the breathless pants for air at the peak of their lovemaking.

Gabriel’s heart raced wildly, feeling the tightness of Naestra’s puss* still gripping his co*ck like a vice. It was a wonder he had even managed to ejacul*te with how tight and possessive her body clenched on him. He started to pull out, but Naestra threw up her other leg and locked her ankles behind his waist, trusting him implicitly not to drop her. Her body still clenched and unclenched with long, loving spasms as she draped her arms around his neck for good measure.

“Don’t pull out yet. Stay in me a while longer,” Naestra cooed. “Make sure the little ones reach their goal.”

It was a sexy tease that kept Gabriel hard despite having just spent inside her. They both knew what she was suggesting was not possible. But her want for it, Naestra’s constant begging to be bred, to have his children; it was the kind of sexy no amount of money could buy.

They stayed there like that for several minutes, their breathing slowing, their sweat evaporating. And eventually, almost reluctantly, Gabriel’s erection softened and slipped from Naestra’s body. And just as lazily they started to dress.

Naestra had only just managed to cover her breasts and Gabriel tugged up the zipper of his pants when the closet door was yanked open, harsh light from the hallway spilling inside and framing the interloper as a dark silhouette for a moment.

Both of them recoiled from the shock and embarrassment of being caught like a couple of teenagers sneaking away to make out in private. They squinted, Arahan’s features finally resolving on the silhouette as the austere ranger narrowed her eyes at the duo.

None of them said anything for a moment, staring at each other. Then Arahan’s nostrils flared like an animal picking up an interesting scent.

“Were you two having sex in here?”

Gabriel spluttered at the straight line of questioning. “No, of course not!” he started to say.

Except Naestra cut across him. “Yes of course we were,” she blurted out. “What else would we be doing? Certainly not doing anything wholesome, I promise!”

Arahan’s eyes shifted from the human to her aeldari sister, then back again, clearly not sure who to believe. Then just as abrupt as her entrance she stepped back and turned away, continuing down the hall to the briefing room, the crack of her heels fading as she went.

In the briefing room it was all hands on deck.

Gabriel’s senior sergeant was pacing around a glowing holo-tank in the centre of the room sipping his re-caf. There were numerous technicians working on workstations dotted around, and a pretty young ensign in naval uniform briskly walked over to hand Gabriel a tablet.

“Thank you,” he murmured, looking at the data from Arahan’s reconnaissance scroll across the screen.

By the time he looked back up the holo-tank was projecting a sprawling jungle map dotted with clearings where rigs and refineries were situated on this particular continent. Two refineries had red X’s over, them, and a third appeared over the refinery they had just ‘liberated’ from cultist control.

“Alright, people. We’re fighting a losing battle here,” Gabriel admitted, getting everyone’s attention. “When we first arrived we believed the governor’s reports on small-time cultist mischief and underestimated them completely. We’re now down three refineries and eight pumping rigs. If this keeps up, Doska’s resource extraction operations will no longer be viable and we lose the planet and all its resources completely.”

“Aye, but what’re we supposed to do?” the sergeant asked between sips of his steaming mug. “We’re outnumbered. And cultist numbers are growing every day. We can’t react fast enough to every report of cultists moving around… that’s even if the local constabulary bothers to inform us. It’s like the locals don’t want to be helped. Not to mention they’re well dug into the jungle.”

Arahan stepped forward and drew her fingers across the holo-tank image, focusing on a mountainous stretch of jungle. “That is why we have to go after the source of the hybrids. We need to find and eliminate the tyranid broodlord.”

“Any reason we didn’t do that in the first place when we made landfall?” the sergeant asked.

“It’s a matter of firepower,” Gabriel explained. “The broodlord is the thing snatching the locals and transforming them into hybrid monsters. And as such, the hybrids protect it. We were thinking we could thin the herd before going after the boss-monster, but we underestimated cult numbers. Now we’re playing catch up, murdering cultists by the bushel but still no closer to evening the odds. And every day, while we sleep or re-assess our next target, the broodlord is out there converting more into its army of cannon fodder.”

The sergeant’s magnificent straw-coloured mutton chops bristled as somewhere under that impressive moustache he seemed to be smiling confidently. “Well then, sah! We’d best get after him so. How tough can one little space-bug blighter be?”

Arahan, almost enjoying herself as she did it, flashed a new image onto the holo-tank. This was a pict-recording displaying the ‘little pace-bug blighter’ in its terrifying glory. The beast’s scale couldn’t quite be discerned, but with four arms ending in wicked claws, a powerful tail ending in a bony scythe as well as spikes running like a mohawk down its carapace spine and rows of wicked teeth curving into its hungry maw, size didn’t really matter. The thing could be shorter than any of them and still be a nightmare to deal with.

The sergeant stared unblinking at the picture, which seemed to loom over him for added effect. Then he seemed to suddenly shake himself casually out of the trance. “I take it back. I think I just shat meself.”

Naestra passed the man with a grin and gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. Then she said, “My sister has been tracking the broodlord’s movements for a while and found it doesn’t always stay with the pack.”

“Correct,” Arahan took over. “The beast moves faster on its own and seems to hunt in these regions here.” She threw up the map of the jungle again and highlighted an area in the mountains with red. “It works alone to pick off locals from villages and worker towns before taking them away to its lair for a ‘conversion.’ If we can set up an ambush in this area, we may be able to catch it unaware during one of its hunts, while it’s isolated from the cult and vulnerable.”

“That thing can be vulnerable?” the sergeant scoffed, tipping his cup at where the picture of the broodlord had hung a moment ago.

“Well, as vulnerable as an eight-foot bug made of claws and teeth can be,” Arahan added quickly.

“I’ll have the goonies airborne and minutes away as QRF. But you’re going to need some firepower out there, sah,” the sergeant said.

And as if those were the magic words to summon them, two crimson robed figures bustled into the briefing room. The cogheads carried something between them as they waddled on mechanical claws towards the holo-tank, seemingly unaware they had just crashed a retinue briefing. They brushed by Gabriel who had been nodding in agreement with his sergeant and plonked something large and heavy on the holo-tank, making it flicker and cut out to the collective groans of technicians who’d spent all morning installing the new piece of equipment.

“We’ve got something for that!” Wun announced brightly, then nudged his brother.

Zee-roh reached out and patted his mechanical digits on the weapon they’d just lugged into the room. “For that we have something, indeed!”

Frowning, Gabriel walked over and admired the weapon. It was a bit like the autogun they’d built him, but much longer, bulkier and with a magazine that looked like it held a dozen rounds about the size of his fist. There would be no way an average man could shoulder and fire the weapon accurately, simply because of the heft of it.

It clicked a moment later what Gabriel was looking at. A familiar weapon he’d seen and admired with awe in the past. But never had he seen it just casually carried into a briefing and slapped down on the table like it was another tool.

“Where did you get that?” Gabriel demanded.

“We made it!” the cogheads announced brightly in unison, which sent some nervous glances around the room from the human occupants.

Gabriel jabbed a finger at the weapon and regretted it instantly. The gesture felt blasphemous. “That is a bolt-carbine! That’s a primaris service weapon! You can’t have just ‘made it!’”

Wun scoffed. “Oh, so old Belisarius Cawl can pull a whole army of brand spanking new astartes out of his waste-hole, but somehow my brother and I are not smart enough to make a simple gun?”

Zee-roh mimicked his brother’s tone, folding his robed arms across his metal chest-piece. “Yeah. Seriously, inquisitor! What backwards fairy-land galaxy do you live in half the time?”

“Yeah, inquisitor,” Naestra added sarcastically, a teasing smile all over her lips as Gabriel shot her a glare.

“Alright, fine. You made it. Run me through this. Will I be able actually use it?”

The cogheads seemed immediately excited again, his earlier offense having been purged from their databanks as they flew into rapid-fire explanations.

“Okay, so we developed a chemically charged explosive round,” Wun babbled happily between bursts of machine code in the background of his mechanical voice. “Standard bolter calibre. On its own, more than enough to cause grievous bodily harm to just about anything.”

“But we don’t deal in ‘maybes,’ do we?” Zee-roh interjected. “So, we added the chemical payload.”

“Highly corrosive,” Wun said.

“Very corrosive,” Zee-roh agreed. “Hundred-percent, will absolutely ruin any tyranid’s day or your money back.”

“Wonderful,” Gabriel said, gesturing the duo to slow their roll as their talking got so fast words were beginning to blend together. “Now how do I fire it without breaking every bone in my body?”

The cogheads scoffed at the exact same time.

“We made some modifications, obviously,” Wun said as Zee-roh nodded vigorously.

“Have faith inquisitor. We added recoil buffers, lowered the round’s charge, along with a whole spate of extra springs and cushiony bits.”

Gabriel grimaced. ‘Cushiony bits’ sounded more like ork design than precision engineering, but he let them continue.

“You should be able to fire this weapon without turning yourself into a pink mist,” Zee-roh finished. Then rocking from the balls of his feet to his heels, the tech-priest who didn’t like ‘dealing in maybes’ added: “Maybe… probably.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows in alarm, glancing between the duo.

Wun nudged his brother sharply, perking the other ad-mech to straighten his posture.

“Oh, right. Definitely!” Zee-roh flashed a clicking wink, one pale blue optic blacking out for a second as he co*cked his head conspiratorially towards Gabriel. “It’ll definitely probably not kill you.”

Part 3
Prone behind his brand new possibly maybe deadly bolt-carbine – deadly for whom remained to be seen – Gabriel tried to ignore the trickle of sweat tickling almost every inch of his skin. His eyes did their best to remain fixed on the dense jungle, expecting the tyranid broodlord to come stalking out of the dense foliage at any moment. But even with the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife, the distractingly heady air was thicker. There was a scent of exotic flowers mingling with the musky odour and damp earth. As well as the smell of his companions’ sweat, which was very familiar to him.

Laying in the jungle hide directly behind him were Naestra and Arahan, prone and on the glass of their own rifles. And similar to how Gabriel quickly regretted donning his custom battle armour before facing the broodlord, subsequently tearing off the impact plating and tactical gear until he was simply dressed in plain pants and a tee, so too had the aeldari rangers doffed their cloaks, sleek bodices and equipment. Dressed in only their boots and skin-tight leggings hinting at the outline of underwear they’d at least bothered to wear underneath, and their sleeveless cropped tops were just short enough to show off their trim, pale mid-riffs.

Despite knowing full well what the women looked like completely naked, a teasing look at those slender waists between the bottoms of their tops and tops of their bottoms was almost as distracting as the humid Doska air.

Making it worse, their hide was a cramped hot-box with a low ceiling and barely a few metres of wiggle room to manoeuvre in. In fact, there was such little space for them to lay in wait, Naestra had opted to lay on top of her sister as the duo set up interlocking fields of fire that watched Gabriel’s back.

Arahan was on the bottom, angled slightly towards the right flank with the muzzle of her rifle just inside the narrow firing slit of the hide. Naestra lay on top, her mid-riff draped over her sister’s back so she could lay facing the other flank, their bodies forming an X along the slight incline.

Seeing them on top of each other was not a new sight for Gabriel. And neither was the feeling of Neastra’s boot reaching out to gently touch the toe of her boot down the leg of his light pants. The contact sent a small shiver down his spine, despite the stifling discomfort of the hide.

“Now may not be the nest time,” he muttered, voice low.

He knew they couldn’t afford a distraction. But how was he going to resist Naestra’s teasing touches? He glanced back, their eyes meeting for the briefest moments before she turned away again. Her struggle to not smile had been so intense she might as well have just let it spread across her face, and the desire in her eyes mirrored Gabriel’s own. Heat and mission be damned, he wanted her… wanted them both.

But now just wasn’t the time.

Clearing his throat, Gabriel focused his attention back on the jungle. “We have to stay focused,” he said firmly, trying to convince himself as much as his companions. “This whole planet is counting on us. If we fail today, then everything may be lost-oh, frack-it!”

He cursed as he felt Arahan’s foot join in on his opposite thigh, which made Naestra snort into her rifle stock. Gabriel immediately set down his bolt-carbine and rolled onto to look at them. Their leggings were so tight, he could make out the lace pattern of the underwear underneath, as well as the shapely cleft waiting, begging to be touched between their sleek thighs.

It was a wonder Gabriel could focus around those two even without their incessant teasing. So it was time to turn the tables. Crawling over, keeping his head low under the hide ceiling, he clapped his hands down on their firm rears, causing their taut, firm curves to wobble slightly with the impact. One hand sank into the flesh of each sister.

Arahan gritted her teeth but was silent while Naestra yelped, the spark of arousal already flashing in her eyes.

“Inquisitor!” she breathed, feigning a scandalised tone. “We are working.”

“Uh-huh,” Gabriel grunted as he ran his hands over the round globes of each aeldari ass, testing its firmness with subtle squeezes and pinches. “And this underwear is part of your work uniform, is it?”

It clearly wasn’t.

As he kneaded the supple muscle, he could feel their cores clench and relax as if trying to draw him in by some invisible lasso. Naestra bucked into his touch more firmly than her sister, but he could feel them both start to shake with anticipation as his fingers moved down into the delectable thigh gaps and ran the length of their quims outlined there in the fabric.

He could feel their heat through the garments already, and as he pressed more firmly he heard them groan in unison with need. There was no more turning back.

Gabriel gripped both their waistbands and slid them down over their asses, exposing the erotic choice of underwear the women had consciously donned for the mission. It seemed they had been planning something, but Gabriel was clearly throwing a wrench into those works.

Naestra’s panties were purple, while Arahan wore deep black. But the style and form were exactly the same, mirroring their twin features. They rode up into the crease between the globes of each buttocks, revealing as much of the supple, marble flesh as possible. Lace decorated the waistband, and a light patch of silk cupping the crotch had taken on the shape of the smooth puss*es beneath, the wet pleas for his touch beginning to darken the fabric.

Gabriel’s touch plunged to their wetness, feeling the heat radiating off of their intimate flesh. He slipped his fingers down along the thin silk and massaged the slick folds through the fabric in firm, loving circles.

Arahan’s puss* was already dripping with desire, and Gabriel could feel her wetness despite the barrier as he rubbed her cl*t. Naestra was just as wet, and her thighs quivered in time with the slow circling touches.

Arahan bit her lip, stifling a moan as Gabriel focused his attention on the hard pearl of flesh just above her clenching opening. She glanced over at her sister who was much more open in her delight, wearing a loving smile as she gazed out into the jungle. Their eyes met for a brief moment, smouldering hot enough to cause a wildfire. They were in competition and the tension was palpable. All of them could feel it with each stroke of the inquisitor’s fingers. One of them would break first. But it was just a question of who.

Naestra’s eyes fluttered shut as she felt her climax fast approaching, legs shivering beyond her control as Gabriel’s fingers worked their magic. The scent of arousal, her own and her sister’s, clogged her sinuses and she brought up a finger to suckle on, an attempt muffle her moans. But it was no good as Gabriel seemed to catch the gesture and redoubled his efforts, forcing his aeldari plaything closer to her release.

She was saved a moment before the end by Arahan, who broke first. The austere ranger’s moan exploded past her pursed lips and she leaned heavily on her elbows, bucking her hips back to grind his fingers firmer against the erect pearl pounding with pleasure under his touch. She was cursing in her otherworldly native language as she crested the peak of her org*sm. Her puss* spasmed against Gabriel’s digits, her body trying to draw him into her through her panties.

“It-it’s so good,” she squealed in a stammer. “H-how d-d-do… do you a-always make me-…nyahnf~!” she bit down hard on her bottom lip as she keened loudly, her sister giggling somewhere beneath her.

Naestra’s quim shivered more delicately, but then his motions across her slit were more delicate too. In the excitement of feeling Arahan’s org*sm approach against his touch he’d focused entirely on her, flicking her cl*t with a quickfire ‘come-hither’ motion he knew they both liked. And while Naestra would have enjoyed the gesture as well, she still managed to get off, albeit quietly and more subtly as she felt her sister try and fail to hold her composure beneath her.

“Oh, poor sister,” Naestra cooed, leaning over to whisper in the trembling aeldari’s flickering ear. “Is our little inquisitor making you cum already? You’re so sensitive today. But it’s okay. You have my permission.” She punctuated her statement by running her tongue up along the edge of Arahan’s pointed ear, making her cheeks flush a deeper shade of red as she glared out ahead. “Do it. Cum in those lovely panties I picked for you. I want to feel you squirm under me as you org*sm against his touch.”

For Arahan, there was suddenly no holding back. She threw her head back, the strands of her raven hair clinging to her sweaty forehead as she shook with pleasure. Her puss* clenched in on itself, spasming in time with Gabriel’s strokes.

“Yes,” Naestra groaned with a soft hiss of delight, her own hips bucking against the delightful wet circles, Gabriels fingers drew across her own folds. “Cum for us, my sweet sister. Let go and give in to your pleasure.”

Arahan’s heart was racing in her chest. Her eyes squeezed shut as she struggled to keep her composure, but Gabriel refused to relinquish his hold on her. Instead, he pushed his fingers deeper into her sopping folds, teasing the sensitive opening with the soft fabric of her own panties.

“♥Gabriel♥!” Naestra moaned lovingly. “She’s doing it. She’s cumming. She’s going to-…”

Arahan’s climax ripped through her body all at once, her juices flowing freely through her panties and into Gabriel’s hand. She writhed with pleasure, unable to contain the waves of ecstasy that coursed through her.

As Arahan came down from her high, Naestra shifted her position, rolling off her sister and giving her some space to breathe. And no sooner were they laying side by side, catching their breaths and still blushing in the afterglow of Gabriel’s touch, she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Arahan’s lips. Their tongues danced together in a sensual battle that was shown off as they parted to breathe, then delved back in for more, making sweet sounds all the time.

Gabriel felt his co*ck twitch in his pants. He could feel the heat radiate from their bodies, and saw their skin was slick was sweat and desire.

Naestra broke the kiss first and looked down at Gabriel, her eyes glinting with lust. But her sister looked about ready to tackle the human.

In fact, Arahan did tackle him.

With a single pounce she had him flat on his back. And the next thing Gabriel saw through the swirl of stars exploding in his vision was the smooth, pale quim still glistening with what his fingers had done to her easing itself down and fixing firmly over his mouth. He wasn’t sure how long she’d dazed him for, but in that short time Arahan had somehow gotten her pants and panties off entirely, but still seemed to be wearing her boots and thigh-high tights he hadn’t noticed before.

“Mmmhhh, that's better,” Arahan sighed as she felt the warmth of his lips on her slit. “Right where your mouth belongs.”

Naestra smirked at that, crawling over to position her face directly above Gabriel’s aching co*ck. Her fingers made short work of the pants and she unfurled his raging erection for the admiration of her hungry eyes… and her equally hungry, salivating mouth.

Excitedly, as her sister rode the inquisitor’s face, Naestra stuck out her tongue and with a lascivious moan, dragged it in a long lick from the base, up-up-up, all the way to the tip where she swirled skilfully across the glans. Then she pursed her lips over the tip, nostrils flaring to mix his scent with his taste. Her eyes shut blissfully as she savoured the feel of him throbbing in her warm, welcoming mouth.

But as much as he too wanted to lay back and enjoy, Gabriel’s tongue was equally busy, darting up and down Arahan’s needy slit. He made sure to explore every corner, every nook and cranny. And as he feasted, Arahan moaned, savouring the sensations of his licking. She eased herself down to where her sister worked her mouth dutifully on Gabriel’s erection before the three of them became a tangle of erotic activity.

Naestra eased aside to make space, her hand sliding down into her panties where she could stroke her own slit in time with Gabriel’s powerful licks across her sister’s wet heat. Arahan at the same time kissed the tip of his now available erection, teased it with her tongue and then opened her mouth and let the thing slide into her throat with an effortless wet gulp. Her tongue stuck out over her bottom lip as in one thrust she took him all in, audibly stretching her tonsils as she bobbed her head in place, trying to force some more of his co*ck down her throat.

Naestra watched her sister with pride, feeling her puss* clench and tremble around her own fingers. Arahan was so eager.

Gabriel couldn’t help marvel as well, rolling his hips to thrust up and make the aeldari gulp and ‘glug’ loudly. Back and forth his motions went, thrusting up into her mouth as if he were pounding her puss*, moaning into her as he felt the warm wet walls of her gullet milk his shaft.

Her mouth was a tight sheath that seemed to taunt him with every gulp. His org*sm was fast approaching, and he forced himself to slow with a clench.

Naestra watched as black tears of effort dribbled down Arahan’s cheeks. But she didn’t dare pull away, gasping between his thrusts and sometimes even lowering her head with him so he could stay in her throat a little longer. Watching with fascination for a while, finally she couldn’t keep her mouth off him any longer and eased her mouth against his balls, just below where Arahan’s open lips hung.

Gabriel’s tongue idled over Arahan’s cl*t, trembling with indecision as he felt the seed beginning to churn at the starting line deep in the roots of his co*ck. And the aeldari must have felt it too, because they immediately lifted off him. Arahan gasped for breath, a thin line of drool still connecting her lips to his tip. Naestra wrapped her free hand around the stem when his needy pulses lessened, and started stroking up and down in time with the wet noises of her fingers working under her panties.

“Keep licking, little inquisitor. Don’t you dare stop,” Naestra moaned through the delight of her own fingers strumming her cl*t like Gabriel’s tongue started doing for her sister.

Arahan writhed in pleasure. Her climax was building, the waves of pleasure striking her shores more strongly, more intensely with ever lick and flick of his tongue. She moaned louder, her hips bucking wildly against his face as she bunched her fingers into Gabriel’s shirt.

“♥Sister♥,” she gasped, her voice barely audible. “I’m getting close.”

Naestra understood what was being asked and kept her eyes intently fixed on Arahan’s. Her hand slowed it’s pace, her fingers drifting expertly, lazily up and down Gabriel’s shaft. She could feel him tense under her touch, the muscles in his tighs tightening as he neared release. But she held him off, as if the sensation of his pleasure were mirrored in her. Though at the same time, her fingers quickened inside herself.

Arahan, for all her austere demeanour, had always been the more sensitive sister. And as a result she could feel her second org*sm building rapidly. She moaned, bucking her hips more vigorously against Gabriel’s mouth, riding his face closer and closer to the edge.

Naestra watched with bated breath as her sister’s climax approached, her own pleasure mounting in tandem. And their steadfast gaze into one another’s eyes, unblinking and unwavering, as if they were connected by their stare and sharing their pleasure, pulled Naestra along to a summit of delight looming just within reach.

The rising tension in the women was palpable, and sensing this Gabriel redoubled his effort. His tongue darted faster and more insistently over Arahan’s cl*t while his frustrated hips thrust into Naestra’s grip, though to little avail.

“Ah-ah-ah, little inquisitor.” Naestra giggled. “Make my beloved sister cum first. Then maybe I’ll give you something nice.”

Just then though, Naestra’s org*sm hit her with an intensity that left her breathless. Her mouth spread into a wide smile and her eyes fell shut, small gasping breaths announcing the tidal wave of pleasure crashing over her tingling body. Loudly, body trembling as the pleasure washed over her in a warmth totally unlike Doska’s heavy air. Their scent of sweat was already thick, but now the air was heady and musty with feminine gratification too.

As Naestra came down from her high, Arahan leaned forward and kissed her sister with a deep, sensual duet of their tongues. And as they kissed, Arahan’s climax ripped through the little jungle hide next. She squirted without much ceremony all over Gabriel’s tongue, drenching his face in her aeldari juices.

“Look what you made me do, dear sister,” Arahan teased as she looked back, lifting her slippery puss* off her lover’s mouth. Strings still connected his lips to hers as they parted with a moist ‘smack,’ and Gabriel looked over in a daze, his overworked tongue still hanging out of his mouth. “I think Gabriel is going to need a little break.”

No sooner had Arahan climbed off Gabriel though, did Naestra scramble up on top of him, straddling his hips and looming heavily over the human like a hungry predator.

“Oh, but he won’t be getting one,” she promised feverishly through the aftershocks of her org*sm, licking some of her sister’s org*sm from his chin.

Her fingers were always pleasant, especially when utilised while watching Arahan get off. But she needed more.

“Noth ehen then sec-honths?” Gabriel slurred with a tongue that simply refused to obey his commands.

“Not even one,” Naestra growled with a needy smile. She needed to feel him inside her.

The aeldari’s eyes darkened as she reached down between them and positioned his persistent erection against her slick entrance. She slowly began to lower himself onto him, inch by glorious inch. Gabriel’s eyes rolled into the back of his head at the contact, then felt himself being swallowed up by her warmth; her wetness; her heat.

It was as amazing as it was intense. Better than any time before, as far as his memory would allow him to analyse. Better even than Arahan’s throat… though he’d never tell her that.

“Hh-yeeehhhss~!” Naestra moaned, her voice low and jagged. “That’s exactly what I need.”

The hide was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and moaning as they f*cked each other like animals in heat. Naestra raised her arms, gripping the low ceiling and letting Gabriel fully admire the dance-like gyrations of her lithe body squirming atop him with duty and pleasure.

Behind her Arahan seemed to have regained her composure and crawled behind her rifle again, paying the sounds and sights of slow romantic sex no mind. But the aeldari’s fingers were still busy, rubbing her cl*t beneath her as she watched Naestra ride with a sensual skill in the corner of her eye.

But the slow loving didn’t last very long before Naestra began to build her speed. Her hips moved faster and faster as she ground herself down against him. Her edge was close once again, the waves once more picking up in strength as they assaulted a metaphorical beach deep in her core.

“Gabriel, I’m close♥!”

The sound of her voice calling out to him drove Gabriel wild, and his hips bucked up to meet her. He could feel her puss* clenching around him, gripping him tighter as she neared release.

“I’m going to cum,” she announced in a small cry. “I’m going to cum all over your co*ck~!”

Gabriel’s own org*sm was close. The pressure at the base of his spine was intense and his erection swelled inside Naestra’s canal.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Naestra moaned lowly. She had doubled over, caressing his face in both hands, her lips close to his but not quite touching as she panted for breath and moaned at the sensations ripping through her. Her hips moved up and down feverishly, each motion punctuated by a sharp slap of wet flesh.

The scent of sex saturated the air in the hide. The sounds filled their senses as Naestra threw her head back and cried out. And then it all culminated with a sudden, sharp silence broken a split second later by a sharp gasp from both of them.

“Ahn~! ♥Gabriel♥!” Naestra practically screamed. Her whole body tensed up and shuddered as she came hard, puss* clenching and releasing around his co*ck in a milking action. And even still her hips rose and fell, continuing to ride him as her juices flowed freely down his balls and formed a puddle beneath them.

Her perfect xenos face had taken on a new expression of pure ecstasy as she rode through her org*sm, eyes rolling and her tongue hanging out similar to how Gabriel’s had before. Her thighs squeezed his sides as she spasmed in pleasure. The wetness of her happiness flowing over his balls sent Gabriel over the edge a moment later, and with a grunt he thrust up into her one last time and held her there with one hand clamped over the small of her back, filling her to the brim with his own release.

The spurts of Gabriels seed spraying against Naestra’s sensitive walls sent her into another quivering org*sm and she collapsed on top of him, her body trembling with… pleasure? The world almost lost meaning compared to what Naestra felt. ‘Happiness’ seemed more appropriate.

Each time the handsome human filled her with his seed, tried to impregnate her, attempted to put his children in her; it completed Naestra.

As they lay there, spent and exhausted, Gabriel felt a mixture of satisfaction and exhaustion wash over him. So much for keeping focused on the mission. But these moments, connecting with the sisters like this, they were irresistibly special.

So special in fact, it made Arahan feel left out.

He looked over, as if just remembering the other sister laying there and spotted a disapproving frown on her face, mouth slightly agape.

“Wait. We’re getting creampies? Where’s my creampie? I want a creampie!” she whined.

Gabriel chuckled as Arahan’s reaction, which was a little bit as if her mother had just told her she wasn’t allowed to have ice cream… nor that all new high powered sniper rifle.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Gabriel will take good care of you,” Naestra mused as she rolled off him.

Like before, giving the man barely a moment to breathe, Arahan crawled over, her eyes locked on his still-hard co*ck. She could feel the heat radiating off of it, the mixed scent of his gratification and Naestra’s snaking into her senses. She licked her lips in anticipation.

Leaping on her inquisitor, she straddled his hips and doubled over, the tip of her nose touching his. “You’d better be ready. I demand my satisfaction.”

Then, with her lithe aeldari fingers guiding him to her entrance, she sank down on him, his entry lubricated by her sister’s org*sm. Slowly her warmth crept down his shaft, and after some agonising waiting he felt her hips settle against his, hilting his co*ck deep inside Arahan’s body with a slight bulge appearing on her flat belly, just above her belly-button.

With him hilted inside her, Arahan deftly rolled sideways and dragged Gabriel on top of her. Before long she had her back arched off the ground, breasts pressing to his chest as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Take me, Gabriel,” she whispered in his ear.

He wasn’t going to let her ask again. He began to thrust, slowly at first but building up speed as he savoured the feeling of her wetness enveloping him. The sounds and smells of their exertions quickly drowned them in the poorly ventilated hide, stewing them in sex and sweat.

Gabriel felt Arahan’s puss* clenching quickly as he drove into her. And the way she moaned loudly wit her head resting back, eyes blissfully shut and her mouth hanging open urged him on. Her wetness flowed down his crotch, slicking the entire area between them.

He slowed his pace, taking the time to appreciate her tight puss* gripping him. Every motion sank deep into Arahan’s warmth, their bodies becoming one in a way that was both primal and beautiful.

Naestra watched from her side, her fingers still playing with her own creamy folds as she watched her sister get f*cked by their little inquisitor. The sight of them together made her hot all over again, breath hitching as she felt the foundations of another climax getting laid down.

“♥Gabriel♥!” Arahan moaned, fingers digging into his shoulders as she held him tightly. “So deep… Nnnhah~! D-doh-hon’t stop…”

Her voice raised to a high-pitched octave for the final syllable as Gabriel’s erection pounded close to its edge once again. His balls drew in tight as he began to piston in and out of Arahan’s heat. Her pants and moans grew more urgent as her nails curled and she started raking red lines across his skin.

Gabriel could feel Naestra’s eyes on them, her gaze as caressing as her touch. And the thought of her interest sent a surge of pleasure through him that made the whole affair become unbearable. With one last thrust, Gabriel buried himself against Arahan’s cervix and held there as his co*ck twitched and released a wave of hot cum deep into her core.

Arahan cried out, her body shuddering with the intensity of her own org*sm as his seed began to flood into her with warm spurts.

“Yes~!” Arahan moaned, her ankles still locked around Gabriel’s waist as they ground their bodies against each other with delightful friction. “Yes, my little inquisitor! Just like that. Put your short little babies in me.”

“I… am… not… short!” Gabriel growled into her neck, pounding her with finality between each word and spray of cum, until finally with a cry he mashed his crown into the neck of her womb and delivered the last spurt of his seed into her innermost depths.

Arahan cried out, losing complete control of herself as he flooded her with a mind-numbing warmth. She clawed at the ground and arched her back, at the same time kicking her trembling legs straight up into the air.

Straight up against the ceiling of the hide. Something cracked loudly and one of the support beams came crashing down between them. And in the stunned silence that followed, all three felt their moans catch in their throats as they looked up.

Gabriel frowned. “Aw, cra-…”

The hide came tumbling down on them in a heavy smattering of leaves and sticks, burying the trio and their gear in a carpet of natural and artificial foliage.

When the dust cleared the pile of rubble shifted, then upended, thrown aside by Naestra and Gabriel climbing onto their knees. Arahan had been pinned under Gabiel for the collapse, and her legs still trembled like jelly as his seed leaked from her satisfied quim. She had a hand over her eyes, blushing furiously in a mixture of gratification and embarrassment at what she’d done.

Gabriel seemed ready to tell her it was fine. ‘No harm – no foul,’ and all that. Except it wasn’t entirely true.

There was a snort and the trio froze, listening to the heavy tramp of clawed feet. Slowly Gabriel looked up and he saw it, stunned something so big was able to stay hidden.

The tyranid bloodlord was twice as mean looking that the pict-recording from the briefing. But that was because it practically towered over Gabriel, shiny black carapace revealing only slivers of raw pink flesh in the chinks under its natural armour. A thick tail ending in a curved blade snaked lazily from side to side as the wide maw filled with more interlocking teeth than was good for his mental health started to hinge open and a long blood-red tongue began to ease out in preparation to taste its prey.

And there the trio were. Caught with their pants quite literally down around their ankles.

The broodlord leapt forward, it slower arms clawing into the earth to give it more forward momentum with the two larger arms tipped in three slashing blades reaching out for Gabriel.

Cursing he lunged over Arahan at the same time, the aeldari sisters rolling aside to go for their own weapons. But Gabriel reached his first, landing prone with a huff and bringing the bolt-carbine up on its bipod. The cushioned stock pressed to his shoulder and his cheek welded to the appropriate rest to peer through the sights, the broodlord’s big ugly face framed right in the faintly green reticule as the targeting computer registered a kill-shot.

But the moment Gabriel pulled the trigger, the tyranid jinked sideways with impressive speed, like its massive bulk didn’t obey the laws of physics.

Thankfully, the cogheads had pulled through and Gabriel wasn’t folded in half backwards by the recoil of the carbine. But he would have some long term hearing issues as the report of the weapon left a distinct ringing in his ears, even with the hefty suppressor on the muzzle.

The recoil carried the weapon up off the ground and up, causing the the five round burst to only shred foliage where the broodlord had been moments ago, a crackle ringing out as the rounds exploded off in the distance.

The creature disappeared into the trees, foliage shaking violently as it passed out of sight and circled hard right. Gabriel rolled onto his side and tried to track but the bulk of the carbine was too much. His arms screamed as he bounced the weapon on its bipod trying to get a bead and pump more rounds into where he though the target was. But it was futile, and any moment now the thing would come leaping out of the trees and shred the three lovers in an instant, ending their affair so quickly it was as if it had never happened. The bitter galaxy would have snuffed out another little light of goodness lost in the swirling grim darkness…

Except nothing happened.

The violent rustling of the trees seemed to halt suddenly with a violent crunch and a wet squeal like air being let out of a tyre. Then as the sound faded, so too did the violent beat of Gabriel’s heart hammering in his ears. Quickly the ruckus of buzzing insects and noisy birds were the only sounds in the jungle, along with the panting breath of the inquisitor and his aeldari retinue.

Without asking what happened, the three of them scrambled for their armour. They didn’t know what had held up the broodlord’s assault, but they weren’t about to give up the opportunity to pull their pants up and don battle armour.

It took an embarrassingly long time to get the final clasps in place, but before long the three of them slotted helmets into place then lifted weapons again, Gabriel slightly clumsily considering the weapon that honestly had never been designed for a man of his ‘stature’ to carry.

Fanning out, Gabriel led the way into the trees, flanked by the ranger sisters. But they didn’t have to delve far before the broodlord came into sight again. Just beyond the curtain of foliage it sat still as if waiting for them.

Or rather, it just hung there.

Gabriel recoiled and brought up his bolt-carbine. Then ever so slowly lowered it, realising the broodlord wasn’t moving. Then again, it couldn’t, the way it was impaled through its face by a thick, jagged branch. The branch entered the tyranid’s mouth and exited messily out the back of its spiked head, suspending the monster in place as it’s claws hung limp and useless, twitching faintly in its death throes like a boiling lobster.

“Wow,” Naestra said plainly as she lowered her weapon and looked up at the tyranid that had full-force impaled and killed itself in the rush to flank them. “I feel kind of cheated actually. Do you two think that was anticlimactic?”

Arahan shrugged. “Any one you walk away from.”

Gabriel pulled a face. “No, no, I agree with Naestra. We cannot tell the others about this. This is just embarrassing.”

“Well, what do you suggest we report? We just found it out here like this?” Arahan asked smartly.

Gabriel thought for a moment, then smacked his lips like the lightbulb flashing to life over his head had an aftertaste.

Levelling his under-utilised carbine, he let another four round burst fly. They ripped the broodlord from the side of the tree and sent the body sprawling across the jungle floor, gaping holes blown through its carapace with the flesh underneath beginning to sizzle and smoke as the chemical payload did it’s gruesome work.

“There,” Gabriel said, sounding rather proud of himself. “Now nobody will know any better. Our battle was epic! And that’s the story I’m sticking too.”

Naestra chuckled slinging her rifle and removing her helmet, revealing a suggestive smile. “You’re right. That battle was one for the history books. And, oh brave and powerful little inquisitor, I’m so grateful you saved me from that horrid beast.” She fell to her knees dramatically, so quickly it surprised Gabriel and he stumbled against a tree, Naestra’s hands clinging to his belt. “How ever can this faithful aeldari servant thank you?”

Gabriel stuttered, staring with bug-eyes behind his helmet visor as Naestra seemed intent on only removing the armour around his crotch.

She gasped, feeling her fingers along the bulge that was already forming. “Oh, I know how!” she smiled wickedly as she opened his pants and hungrily devoured his erection.

Gasping, Gabriel looked up to Arahan who was prodding the dead broodlord with her rifle, helmet under her other arm. She looked over, saw her sister dramatically gulping down the inquisitor’s co*ck in thanks for winning the day against the foul beast.

She rolled her eyes. But there was a faint smirk on her lips before the austere ranger suddenly mimicked her sister, dropping dramatically to her knees as if suddenly faint… then quickly joined her mouth to Naestra’s efforts.

###

This story was commissioned by ANONYMOUS.
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Stay sexy, peeps.
Matthew Chapel.