Lori always liked the sounds of the city downtown at night. It was intoxicating, the pulse of the traffic, the music drifting out of bars, and the laughter of people enjoying themselves. Lori was usually one of those laughing and enjoying herself. She was a well figured red head with long hair and a smile that could (and did) melt hearts with a glance. She always stood out in a crowd and had not paid for a drink in years.
Tonight was different. Since the Orks landed, if you could describe the way their drop ships crashed into the ground and spewed out Orks a landing, the cityscape was totally changed. It was sickening, the screaming roar of PDF and Ork vehicles, the sound of weapons blasting from doors and windows, the screams of the terrified, the shouts of defiance, and the waaggh of the Orks. She also wished to be invisible and unnoticed. She had done what she could by dressing in loose close and getting a jacket with a hood, but she was still just one of those people that other people noticed no matter what they wore.
She snuck through the city armed with her grandfather's laspistol. She had originally taken the shooting lessons from him just to humor an old man she loved. She thanked the Emperor she had listened to him. He was gone now. She went to find him after it became obvious that the PDF was not going to be able to keep the Orks out of the city and had signaled for an evacuation. He was dead when she got to his hab. There were 4 dead Orks outside and 3 more inside, all shot through the throat or face. She realized then that the old war stories that she loved to hear him tell were not just stories after all and sought to remember everything he had ever told her about Orks; they were big, green, muscle bound, walking piles of anger and death that shrug off wounds that would kill a human. It was not very comforting. Knowing he would not want her to take the time to mourn him now, she took the laspistol, checked the charge, and went to the bedroom when she knew he kept the spare battery. She swapped power cells and put the partially depleted one in her pocket.
Her parents lived in another city and she was not dating anyone, so the only person she had any concern for now was herself. The evacuation point was at the starport and that was a long way away, through an increasingly hostile city, so she didn't waste any more time getting started. Along the way she saw sights both great and despicable. But what surprised her the most were the street gangs of the city. Rule of law was cast aside as the Arbites had more pressing things to worry about than gang related crime. Some gangs (and many normally law abiding citizens) simply started looting. They carried off almost more than they could physically carry; as if they thought the Orks would let them keep it. Others staked out mini-kingdoms and declared themselves masters of their domain, as if the Orks cared and would let them live. Surprisingly, some fought shoulder to shoulder with the PDF, Militia, and the Arbites to man barricades; as if they could actually stop the Ork flood.
"'Ello wot 'ave we 'ere?" and then there were these shits. She had been making her way cautiously down a windowless, trash strewn side street when a figure detached itself from a shadow and stepped into the light of a streetlight. She turned to run but there were already 2 gang members blocking her path that way and when she turned around again, the first figure was joined by 2 more. She had no illusions about what they were after.
She knew it was a doomed effort from the start, but she felt she had to try at least once to reason with them before she drew her laspistol "Look, maybe you haven't been paying attention, but the city is being overrun with Orks. There isn't time for this."
"Look yerself, maybe u aven't been payin a'tenshun. This is 'bout all there IS time for." Lori pulled her laspistol out from under her jacket, but the would be rapist was undeterred. "Ye might get a couple of us, but ta rest 'ill still have our fun." He then nodded back in the other direction. One of the other gang members was pointing an autogun at Lori. Not at her chest, but at her legs. "Try ta shoot or run an ya still get it. Just wit a 'ole in your leg." They closed in around her and she was just about to see how many she could take with her when,,,,
The night air was punctured by the striking of 2 chords on an electric guitar followed by a stream of maniacal piano music. Everyone stopped and looked around but there was no telling where the music was coming from, it seemed to come from everywhere. Music like this had never been heard by any of them before. The gang leader looked sharply at Lori and she just shook her head as she was as bewildered as everyone else. The music built to a crescendo, tapered off and then the lyrics started.
The sirens are screaming, and the fires are howling way down in the valley tonight.
There's a man in the shadows with a gun in his eye and a blade shining oh so bright.
"Oi, he must be singin about me."
"Don't you find anything really creepy about this?" She said after a few more moments.
Like a bat out of hell I'll be gone when the morning comes. When the night is over, like a bat out of hell I'll be gone, gone, gone.
"Nope, tis more like mood music than anyting else. So, let's let ta music play and let's get back to wot, and who, we was doin."
The music intensified as the next line rang out, I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram on a silver-black phantom bike.
At that moment the 2nd story wall across from where Lori was being pinned exploded outward and a bike and rider landed on the pavement in shower of bricks. The bike scattered the gang members and skidded to a halt right in front of Lori. The biker dismounted as if there was nothing unusual about his arrival, nodded to Lori and then faced the gang. "Well boys, playtime is over. The young lady has things to do and places to go and you're keeping her from it. Why don't you be good little boys and hit the far end of the street as fast as you can get there?"
Lori looked the newcomer over. He was slightly above average in height, middle aged, and definably on the heavy side. His head was topped with a red bandana and he was clean shaven. It appeared that he was wearing an old faded commissar's greatcoat, although she had never heard of a leopard print greatcoat with frills on the sleeves. His hands were in fingerless gloves, and his pants were tucked into high Rogue Trader, or pirate, style boots. She couldn't tell much else from where she was as he had his back to her, except for the studded collar, with blinking lights on the studs. All told he was no less outlandishly dressed than the gang members but instead of feeling threatened in any way, she felt more of a sense of security. He seemed to be on her side, but she had no idea what his intentions were. On the other hand, she knew exactly what the intentions of the gang were. She decided not to interrupt or run for it and see how it played out. Besides, she still had her laspistol. She had a moment of chill when she looked at the bike and realized it was silver-black just like the line from the song and seemed to shimmer. But that had to be a trick of the light.
Although taken aback by the method of the stranger's arrival, the gang leader stood his ground. He looked the stranger up and down, "Wot? You think we're jus gonna piss off jus cause you say so?"
"Yes."
There was a long pause as the gang leader didn't really know how to respond to such a short, decisive, unargumentative answer. Eventually, "Well it ain't goona 'appen, right guys?" A short chorus of agreement echoed up from the other members as they started to close in again.
The biker held up his left hand in the universal 'wait a second' gesture and with his right pulled a square bottle with a round neck out of its holster on the right handlebar. He took a healthy swig of the amber liquid inside, smacked his lips appreciatively and replaced it. From a large quiver attached to the right side of the bike near the saddlebags, he pulled out a large wooden club. "For small groups, I have always preferred using a nice, old fashioned baseball bat." Without another word, he launched himself at the gang.
Lori was impressed. Not only was his speed and agility completely at odds with his apparent bulkiness, he moved through his opponents with the skill and grace of a ballet dancer amid a group of drunks. In less than 20 seconds, it was all over; even the guy with the autogun at ready never got a shot off. They were all either dead or unconscious. He strolled back to the bike looking rather pleased with himself and pulled the bottle back out again and drained the contents. He glared at the bottle for a moment as if its emptiness somehow offended him. He looked around for a moment and then spotted what he was looking for. "Tell you what, why don't you check the bodies out for anything useful while I take care of this." as he headed over to a water spout he found on the side of a building. "The head punk has a sweet helpistol rig." Lori looked over at the prone gang leader. He did have a helpistol in a military style holster rig. She also knew for a fact that he did not have it when looked him over to evaluate how much a threat he was when he first stepped out of the shadows.
"Wait, just who are you?"
He stopped in mid street, turned to her and smiled, "That's not nearly as interesting as 'what' I am."
She sighed, took a deep breath, "OK, what are you?"
He spread his arms wide, went down on one knee and bowed. "I, am your guardian angel." He tilted his head up and gave her a crooked smile, "Temporary assignment. You have a destiny to fulfill and it's my job to see that you live long enough to get an opportunity to fulfill it."
"Yeeeah, riiight." She adjusted the grip on her laspistol and tried to calculate if she was fast enough to get down the street and lose him in an alley. She dismissed the idea immediately. Not only had she seen how fast he was, he also had that bike. Although he was obviously insane, she still did not feel any sort of menace from him, just the opposite actually. There was absolutely no reason to feel safe around him, but she did.
He stood up and pointed to the empty bottle, "Mind if I take care of this? We need to get going and I can explain on the way." She nodded numbly. He went to the spout and filled the bottle up with water. After staring intently at it for a few seconds, the clear water turned into an amber liquid. He took a swig, smacked his lips appreciatively and then nodded to himself. "Ok, we're ready to roll." He strolled back over to her and extended the bottle to her. "Like a snort?" She sniffed the bottle dubiously and was surprised to discover that it smelled like amsec, and a rather good quality at that. Like teaching her how to use a lazgun, her grandfather also taught her the difference between good amsec and bad.
Lori was dumbfounded. It had to be a trick of the light or he had slipped something into the bottle when she wasn't looking. It smelled like amsec, but she watched him put the water in it. "Did you just change that water in to amsec?"
He nodded and said, "We call it Jack back where I'm from, but I think amsec is the current name for it."
She was completely nonplussed. Lots of intelligently phrased questions flashed through her head but all that came out was, "Why, how?"
"Why is easy, not everyone likes red wine. How? That's easy too. I'm an angel, I can do shit."
She found those answers somewhat less than helpful. She was still very doubtful, but there was no denying that that was amsec in that bottle. That gave some credit that he had some powers beyond the normal. "So you claim to be an angel? Why would the Emperor send an angel to me and not to put too fine a point on it, I would have expected an angel to look a little more, um, well, angelic?"
"The Emperor didn't send me." Lori quickly brought up the laspistol, aimed it directly at his forehead and fired. The impact caused him to tilt his head back slightly, but seemed to have no other affect. "And just why did you do that?"
"If you're not from the Emperor, you must be from one of, of, them!" Lori was terrified now. If a lasbolt to the head didn't even make him blink, she was totally at his mercy.
The biker sighed, closed his eyes and clenched his teeth as if he were suppressing an urge to yell at her (which he actually was). "I refuse to get into a theological debate with you. There just isn't time. Your Emperor is sitting on his throne taking a 40,000 year dump because he was MORTAL-ly wounded. Key word, mortal. He breathed, had a pulse, slept, ate, drank, got drunk, got horny, and had to use the bathroom just like everybody else. Before him, there were other options for gods to worship that were not one of the four freaky stooges. My boss is one of them. He isn't evil and just because he's not openly worshiped any more does not mean that he doesn't still care. You have something to do and he sent me to make sure you had the chance to do it. I really do appreciate the irony of what I'm about to say, but you have to take it on faith that there are other Divine Beings that care about humanity, even if all knowledge of them has been repressed.
So I don't look the part? You were expecting what? Long flowing white robes, long blond hair, white feathery wings and a golden glowing halo? I used to do that. I just got tired of being called gay-boy, faggot, and getting snickered at every time I got looked at. It's real hard to be an effective Guardian Angel when you want nothing better than to pound the little bastard into snail snot and scrape him into a crack in the pavement. That kind of thing gets you talked about. Don't look at me like that." He said angrily. "It only happened once and he deserved it! Look, I know I was not supposed to be judgmental, just watch out for him," his voice took on a pleading tone, "but you have no idea what this guy was like." He took a deep breath and calmed down. "Besides, I blend in better this way." He spread his arms wide so she could take in the full view, which she did. She looked at the faded leopard print great coat with fringes on the sleeves, the red bandana on his head, the spiked collar with the blinking lights, the fingerless gloves, the baggy pants tucked into high boots cut in the Rogue Trader, or pirate style and the bottle of amsec in one hand. She decided not to comment on his ability to blend in. Still, to be fair, she had to concede that it was still less conspicuous than feathered wings and a glowing halo.
"I really have been watching out for you. Do you remember when those Orks were nearing where you were hiding and the heard something and veered off? That was me. Do you remember thinking about helping at that barricade and then the smoke cleared for a moment and you saw what was coming and you changed your mind? That was me. Remember that cat that hissed at you and scared you so you picked a different alley to go down? That was me. There were 9 punks waiting in that one by the way. Remember the gnarly looking rat that ran in front of you before you started down this street? That was me too, but you ignored that one, and so here we are."
Reluctantly, she couldn't disagree with anything he said. He either really was what he said he was and did those things to try to safely guide her, or she somehow missed that she was being followed around by a big, outlandishly dressed guy on a motorcycle. Both were highly unlikely, but the first one was more comfortable to believe. She decided to try something else, "Alright, what is this destiny I am supposed fulfill?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"Paradox. And really, we should be going. We don't have all night for this."
She took a step backwards and brought up her laspistol, "I'm not going anywhere unless I understand what is happening."
He looked at the laspistol, back up to her face, cocked an eyebrow and said, "Seriously? Ok, one brief lesson in paradox and we have to get going or you won't get a chance at destiny. To get to the port we need to turn left at the end of the street. What if I told you it was in your future that if you tuned left, you would twist your ankle on a rock so bad you wouldn't be able to walk. What would you do?"
"I sure wouldn't turn left!"
"And that is my point, knowing the future invalidates it and changes it. Turning left would have made you unable to walk, but you would have been sitting on the curb when a patrol came by looking for survivors and you would have been taken straight to the evacuation area. Turning right would leave you whole and healthy and put you in the path of an Ork mob that would kill you. Knowing the future to avoid a bad thing doesn't mean that there isn't something worse in store for you for having avoided it. On the flip side of that, having something bad happen doesn't mean that something good won't happen later. The choices you make determine your possible future. That's why I keep saying 'get a chance' to fulfil your destiny. You have free will. You can make a decision to do something that will take the destiny planned for you right off the options list. Now, can we get going, or do I just fade out and tell the boss I couldn't pull this one off?"
"So basically you want me to accept on faith that some deity, other than the Emperor, or the Ruinous Powers sent you to me to make sure I fulfilled some destiny that you won't tell me about and I'm to just ride off with you?"
"Yes."
Lori hesitated for a moment, there was simply too much to think about and no time to do it. One thing did stand out to her though, she shot him in the forehead and he was still concerned about her safety. Most people would be a bit upset over that, but he wasn't. Not without misgivings, she decided she had no real choice but to trust him and then nodded. "By the way, which way do we turn at the end of the street?"
"You decide. That free will thing, you know. Besides that was just an example, neither one is going to happen. Besides, you'll be riding, kind of hard to twist your ankle when it doesn't touch the street. Any more questions?"
"Just one, what did you mean by 'temporary assignment'? "
"Good catch. You're smart, I like that. What it means is that I only started looking out for you since the Orks arrived and once you get on that ship and get out of the system, I'm gone. You're on your own again, my job is done. Now, that was the last question until after we get moving. Now grab some gear and get in the side car."
Lori turned back to the motorcycle and there was now a sidecar attached to the right side. She knew for a fact it did not have one when it came through the wall and skidded to a stop in front of her.
"How, did that get there?"
"I told you, I'm an angel, I can do shit." She gave up trying to come up with logical explanations at this point. She was alive and he seemed interested in keeping her that way so the details just didn't seem all that important right now. She headed toward the gang leader to get the helpistol and then stopped and looked back at him questionly. He nodded. "And before you ask why, two words; plausible deniability. If someone asks you where you got that helpistol and you tell them you got it off a punk that threatened to rape you, no one will bat an eye and you will be telling nothing but the absolute truth. Just imagine what they would do if you told them your Guardian Angel manifested it out of thin air and gave it to you. You'd still be telling the absolute truth, but,,,,"
She couldn't argue with logic like that, but one thing bothered her, "Why does that matter? I can think of half a dozen believable lies that are just as good."
He just shrugged, "The Boss has this thing about lies. Giving you a way to explain things without lying keeps it cool with him."
She gave him a speculative smile, "So, you can't lie?"
"Oh no, I never said anything of the sort. I can lie; I just have to be ready to justify it to the Boss. He likes for everyone to always tell the truth. But, being the kind of person I am, I found lots of loopholes. You can tell the truth, but just not all of it. You can say it in a way that leads people to the wrong conclusion. Or my favorite, say it in such a way that you won't be believed. Seriously, cop a snarky attitude and tell them I gave you the helpistol, they'll brush it off."
Again, she couldn't argue with logic like that. She finished collecting the gear she thought would be useful and it was actually a pretty good haul. She got a helpistol in a military style rig designed for it, a couple of frag and krak grenades, the autogun had a targeter that she removed and fixed to the helpistol. She was worried about how to modify the holster to accommodate the targeter, but then noticed it was not a problem. She studiously ignored the fact that the helpistol with targeter would not have fit in the holster when she put it on, but somehow it did now. Remembering what she was told about Orks, she decided she really needed the helpistol. It was still basically a laspistol but it was upgraded to have more strength and penetration. That would be needed against Orks. There was no place on the rig for her grandfather's laspistol. The laspistol had a great deal of sentimental value to it and she didn't want to give it up, so she didn't. She tucked it back into the jacket where she had been carrying it before. There was also a combat knife that was of far better quality than one would expect to find on a street punk. She was not surprised when she went to attach it to the rig; there was a spot that it fitted to perfectly.
He was already on the bike when she finished collecting and stowing her new found gear. As she climbed into the sidecar and sat down, he asked, "Mind if I put on some tunes?" Without waiting for a reply he hit a button between the handlebars.
You can't run away forever, but there's nothing wrong with getting a good head start,,,
"So, in case you need any more convincing." He reached into his coat and handed her an envelope. She checked inside and there was a boarding pass with her name on it for a ship heading out of the system. "One of the reasons we need to get a move on is that that shuttle to get you up there won't keep having technical difficulties all night."
They pulled away from the street and headed to the spaceport using as many alleys as they could to avoid any contact with Orks, gangs, Arbites or PDF patrols. "So what is your name? Calling you Guardian Angel all the time is a bit cumbersome and anyone that over hears us might think it a bit odd."
"Call me biker dude."
"What? That's not exactly flattering you know."
"So? You asked for something to call me. You didn't say it had to be flattering."
"I'm just going to call you Angel instead." The played 'snoop and scoot' for several blocks trying to avoid Orks and gangs. Lori always picked the direction, but sometimes Angel offered suggestions on which way to go. He stressed the final decision was hers, but she usually took his advice. "If you don't mind my asking, well, you explained about your looks, but you seem to have an attitude that just wouldn't normally associate with angels."
The music player changed tracks.
I know that I will never be politically correct,
and I don't give a damn about my lack of etiquette,,,
"Yeah, this is going to sound really weird coming from someone in my line of work, but I have a real problem with authority. You wouldn't believe the amount of convincing it took for me to take this job." He paused for a moment to listen to the music.
And I ain't in it for the power,
and I ain't in it for my health.
I ain't in for the glory of anything at all,
and I sure ain't in it for my health.
But I'm in it 'till it's over and I just can't stop.
If you wanna get it done, you gotta do it yourself,
and I like my music like I like my life.
Everything louder than everything else,,,
"I had a problem with authority when I was alive too. I died trying to protect someone that I had no reason to look out for. It was just the right thing to do. Wasn't the first time I did what I considered the right thing and took some hurt, but I didn't walk away from that last one. Anyway, afterwards I was met by some guy who stepped out of a bright light and he looked like a 'proper' angel, with wings and halo and all. He said I had earned my place in Heaven because my good outweighed my bad. I asked what Heaven was like and then he told me all about it. I then told him to shove it up his ass. There was no way I was going to spend eternity bored shitless. No fighting, no drinking, no sex, no nuthin! I asked to be sent to Valhalla instead but he told me it didn't work like that. So I just told him to piss off and I would just be a ghost helping out where I could and I would be able to at least watch people fight, drink and have sex. In fact I knew of several bars where you get all 3 on any given weekend. I was actually looking forward to starting my haunting and that's when he started in with Guardian Angel sales pitch. It took a lot of convincing but we worked out an agreement. I get my assignments and it's pretty much up to me on how to carry them out as long as I generally obey the rules, and the best part is I never have to pass through the Pearly Gates. By the time we were done, I think he was rather glad I wouldn't be passing through them too."
"Why would you want to go to Valhalla? Isn't that an ice world and a horrible place to live? And what are the 'Pearly Gates'?"
He looked at her like she was stupid for a moment, started to say something, but changed his mind. Instead he said, "No theological debates. Let's just say that the Valhalla I wanted to go to is different than that one and leave it at that."
"Hmmph. Change of subject then, how will I know when I've completed my destiny?"
"You won't, and before you ask why, paradox. This is a good thing actually. If you don't know your destiny and don't know when it is done, you hopefully won't do anything stupid. Like think you can't get killed until after you've met your destiny. I've seen it happen. Someone learns they have something to do and think they're immortal until it happens. Not even close. They usually die taking chances that they normally wouldn't take because they think nothing can happen to them."
They rode on for a while as Lori grumpily tried to find a suitably vulgar way to describe how much she disliked paradox.
Eventually they came to an intersection. The space port was not far off now and straight ahead. As he did at every major intersection, "Which way?" Angel asked.
"Straight ahead looks,,," The street straight ahead of them started to erupt in a series of violent heavy explosions. ",,,like a very bad idea! RIGHT! Turn RIGHT! Move! MOVE!" They roared down the road as fast as they could while mostly dodging wrecks and debris. They heard the sound of lasguns and shootas coming from up ahead. He looked over at her; she looked back the explosions in the street behind them, looked back at him, shrugged and nodded forward.
They came up the next intersection and pulled behind some wrecked cars. It appeared to be all but done for a group of PDF, militia, and civilians that had been forced to make a stand. Judging from the pile of dead Orks surrounding the PDF vehicles, they gave good account of themselves, but more Orks were climbing over their own dead and were finishing off the last defenders as they watched. The Orks roared their victory WAAAAGH up into the night sky and then one of them looked around for more hoomies to kill, and from his vantage point atop his dead comrades, he found one. He spotted Angel but not Lori as the sidecar was lower than the car they were behind and out of line of sight. He opened up with his shoota and almost instantly the rest of the Orks turned to see what he was shooting at and then opened up with their shootas too.
"Time to go and keep low." Angel said he revved the bike and shot out of their hiding spot. There was not much difference between going forward or going back so he opened the throttle full up and sped past the battle mound on the side with the least number of Orks. They were around the other side and aiming for the street when an Ork shell hit the 'Jack' holster, vaporizing the holster, the bottle, and showering Angel with the contents. "SON OF A BITCH!" He skid the bike to a stop with the sidecar on the opposite side from the Orks. "Stay here, this shit won't stand. I have some whoopass to deliver." He reached in the quiver he had got the bat out of and this time brought out 2 items. "For large groups, nothing is better than a tire iron and 3 foot of good solid chain." Lori wasn't sure what he meant by '3 foot'. The chain he pulled out actually appeared to be about a meter in length.
There was no more time to speculate for as soon as Angel spun the chain to wrap the end of it around one fist and then charged into the Ork mob. The music player kicked in once again,
The monster's loose
And now you know the truth
Tell me can you feel it
As you hit the wall
It was like it was with the street gang. Although this time it was about 15 battle crazed Ork warriors instead of 5 street punks, it didn't seem to make any difference though. He wove in and out of the Orks as if they were moving in slow motion. The tire iron struck and the chain snaked out with lethal precision into any Ork that came into arms reach. He drew the Orks away from the bike and away from the mound so he could fight them on level ground and keep them away from Lori. One Ork had started back toward the bike to see if there was anything to loot and Lori ended his curiosity with a well-placed helpistol bolt. He was the only one and none of the other Orks noticed what happened to him. Even though they were getting smashed, broken and beaten, almost all the Orks were more interested in taking Angel on in hand-to-hand than anything else. She mentally shrugged and realized that her grandfather had been right about their desire to get 'stuck in' as well.
She crouched lower into the sidecar as soon as she noticed another mob of Orks. There was only about ten of them, but this group was led by what her grandpa would have called a 'Nob'. Although all Orks are green skinned masses of hunched over muscle and mean, Nobs are even more so. This one was a full head taller, much bulkier, had a choppa that looked like it weighed as much as she did, and he even had on armor. She glanced over to where Angel was clearly enjoying himself, (those were cries of delight, not battle cries he was shouting) and slid a little deeper into the sidecar. He still had a few to go and as far as she was concerned, he was perfectly welcome to this lot as well. All that changed as soon as she heard it, the cry of an angry baby came from inside the mound of dead Orks and PDF.
Unfortunately, the Orks heard it too. As they started toward the sound, Lori leapt from the sidecar with the helpistol in one hand and her grandfather's laspistol in the other. Part of her brain had registered that the music player had changed tracks again and kicked up the volume as well.
It's a time for heroes,
Time to answer the call,
It's a time for the hero in us all.
We carry the flame
For all to see
The fire and the passion, of what we can be.
Sometimes we must fight,
But we never bend
The hero keeps fighting, standing tall in the end.
Four of the Orks died before they even knew they were being attacked. The rest promptly forgot about the baby and charged towards her. For them, while killing was always fun, it was more fun when they fought back first. She had successfully distracted the Orks from the baby, but now she had to deal with the consequences. Two more died as they closed in on her. She ducked behind a wrecked car and dropped her grandfather's laspistol. It did damage, but usually not enough to kill and when it didn't kill, it just made them angry. The helpistol killed when it hit, the problem was that it wasn't fast enough. She primed a frag grenade and chucked it into their midst from behind the wrecked car. The blast killed two more and the last two were easily picked off as the blast stunned them. And that left, "WAAAAAAAAGH!", the Nob.
It advanced steadily towards her. It was last in line not because it lacked any bravery, the heavy armor it wore slowed it down. It also kept any of the helpistol shots from getting through to either wound or kill it. As she watched repeated shots splattered off the armor harmlessly, she began to wonder just where her Guardian Angel was. Then she remembered; he was gleefully smashing up other Orks. If she had stayed put like he told her, which was not an option once she heard the baby, she would not be going head to head with an Ork Nob. It all comes down to choices. Well, she made this one and it was up to her see it through.
There was no way she could take this thing in hand-to-hand and shooting it did no good at all. She needed an idea fast and she got one, and even as she thought it up she realized it was so stupid, it just might work. If it didn't, she wouldn't have to worry about the consequences for long. She switched the helpistol from her right hand to her left and got ready. When the Nob was close to the car she jumped up on to the hood, raised the helpistol over her head and screamed at the top of her lungs, "Waaaaaaaaghhhh!"
The Nob thought it was hilarious twice over. Once for the high pitch and again that a hoomie female thought she could challenge him. Instead of cutting her in half with his choppa, he inhaled and was going to show her what a real Waagh was supposed to sound like. "WAAAAAGGH-ulk" As soon as the Nob inhaled, Lori primed the Krak grenade she had in her right hand and when the Nob opened his mouth to roar at her, she threw it unerringly into his gaping mouth. She just barely got behind the car again before it detonated. The Nob's head exploded and bloody chunks of it went everywhere. The headless body fell into the street with a resounding clang as the armor met the pavement.
"That was just freakin awesome!" Lori looked toward the sound of the voice and Angel was leaning up against the side of the bike giving her applause. "Well, I think we've both blown off a bit of steam here and it's time to get going again. Grab a souvenir if you want but be quick about it."
"What the hell! You're supposed to be my Guardian Angel and you're just sitting there enjoying the show!" Lori was furious. After everything he told her about her having a destiny, he just sat there while she took on an Ork Nob. "Why didn't you help me?"
Angel just shrugged, "Choices. I told you to say in the sidecar. If you had stayed there you would not have had to fight anyone. I just figured you wanted to work off some frustration. Since you decided to take on a mob of Orks instead of staying safe like I told you to do, who am I to interfere? For whatever reason, you got out so you have to deal with the results. Besides, we both got done about the same time and I couldn't get to you before you took care of him yourself."
"Are you insane? What kind of an idiot takes on and entire Ork mob just to work off some frustration?" As soon as she said it, she realized that was exactly what Angel had done when a stray round destroyed his bottle of amsec. If he was offended in any way, he never showed it. She moved on quickly, "Besides, the only reason I got out of the sidecar was,,," She never finished the sentence as she turned and darted toward the mound of dead PDF and Orks. She reached the base and started up. She thought she had a pretty good definition of the word disgusting thanks to an ex-boyfriend, but she revised that as she tried to climb up the shifting pile of freshly dead, blood covered and partially dismembered Orks. She revised it again when she got to the top and looked down at what was left of the humans in the center. Shootas and choppas made a much bigger mess than lasguns and bayonets.
The baby cried again and she fought down her rising bile and made her way towards it. The baby was protectively sheltered beneath the body of a woman that could only have been its mother. The woman's back had been split open by a choppa, keeping it from hitting the baby. Beside the woman was a young man with his entire body cavity blown out by shoota bolts, his right hand still held his lasgun, his left was holding her hand. It was a tragic display, but no worse than any of the other dead bodies that had been once human beings strewn about the center of the mound. She carefully drew the wailing baby out from under the dead mother and checked it to see if it was ok. It wailed thunderously while she looked him over and only subsided slightly when she held him close. If nothing else, its lungs were in good working order. It was apparently only a few months old and dressed in a blue onesie that had a nametag sewn on to it, Sebastian. Near the woman was a baby bag. A quick check showed it full of the usual items, fresh diapers, bottles, pacifiers, baby toys, and not unsurprisingly considering the situation, a compact stub gun with extra clips. The bottles she noticed were all empty. Making her way back to the bike was both easier and more difficult. Easier because from inside the battle area it was easier to pick the best way out, harder because she had to be more careful with her footing as she was carrying Sebastian now.
When she got back to the bike she found Angel leaning against it taking a healthy swig of amsec from the bottle she had seen destroyed just a few minutes ago. He looked at what she was carrying; "Whoa, when I said to grab a souvenir I meant like a choppa or a shoota, or maybe a tusk."
She glared at the bottle, glared at him, and decided the argument was just not worth it. Instead, she reached into the baby bag and pulled out a bottle, "Here, do your water to amsec thing but make it milk this time. He's hungry and I don't want to hear him crying all the way to the starport. We're supposed to be sneaking, right? Here", she reached into the bag again and pulled out 2 more "fill these up too." He put the bottle of Jack back into its holster and took the bottles from her. Instead of doing anything, he just stood there frowning at them. She snapped at him, "What are you waiting for?"
"You want me to turn water into milk? Non-alcoholic milk?" He was still staring gloomily at the bottles and muttered to himself, "Something that does not contain alcohol." He looked up at her and said, "Sorry, that just seems a bit unnatural."
Lori lost it. "Look you moron! You crashed through a 2nd story wall without a scratch. You beat up punks and Orks like you're swatting flies. You make weapons appear out of nothing. You make a motorcycle grow a side car. You change water into amsec, and you say changing water into milk is UNNATURAL!"
"Yes."
"JUST SHUT UP AND DO IT!" She roared at him.
Without a word he turned and walked over to a tap and filled the bottles. Lori no longer questioned certain things. Like how he changed the water into whatever he wanted, or how there always seems to be a water tap nearby when he needed one. He returned with the bottles and she immediately gave one to Sebastian and breathed a sigh of relief as the crying stopped. The other 2 bottles she stowed in the bag. They got under way again and something crossed Lori's mind. "Hey Angel, can Angels and Demons tell if you're lying?"
"Most of the time, yes. That's why I got so good at the loopholes. Why?"
"That thing with the baby bottles may come in handy someday that's all."
"How so?"
"Well, if I ever encounter a Demon, I can warn him to watch his step around me because I can tell him that I once forced an Angel to perform an unnatural act. There's no telling what I might make him do, and he'll know I'm telling the truth. Like you said, loopholes"
Angel laughed so hard he almost ran the bike into a pole. The rest of the trip to the spaceport was relatively uneventful. Well, as uneventful as a trip across an Ork infested city that had abandoned all sense of law and order can be. There were still a few encounters with gangs, mobs (human and Ork), and PDF trying to stem the green tide of violence. Only one incident really stood out I her mind. The way had been blocked by a couple of could only be 'Killa-Kans' from one of her grandfather's stories; 'Imagine a huge garbage can on legs with a big circular saw on one side and something nasty on the other'. Angel dodged incoming fire and pulled the bike up behind a large pile of rubble and hopped off. He pulled another club from the quiver, gave her a smile and said, "For big shit, you just gotta use a cricket bat. Stay put, I mean it his time. I'll be right back." He scrambled over the rubble and charged the kans. Lori stayed put, but did keep her helpistol drawn just in case. Idly, she wondered just how big the crickets were where he was from that you needed a club that large. She couldn't see over the rubble, but the sounds came over clear enough. There was the stutter of large caliber shootas, the clanking and stomping of metal feet, the whoops of joy followed by the thunk of wood meeting metal. It didn't last long though. Soon Angel came back around the rubble looking very pleased with himself just as the music player wrapped up the song it was on;
Let the end of the world come tumbling down
I'll be the last man standing on the ground
And if my shadow's all that survives
I'm still alive
They made it past the fortified perimeter of the space port and quickly headed towards the shuttle terminal. The port was packed with refugees and their quick progress was a direct result Angel's intimidating looks, the baseball bat in one hand and the fact that he seemed perfectly willing to run down anyone who got in their way. They entered the terminal and as they approached the shuttle gate Lori asked him, "Can you do me one last favor? Could you beat senseless anyone that tries to tell me that I can't take Sebastian with me?"
"No need, it's already taken care of. Check your boarding pass." He reassured her.
They stopped just before the gate and she took out the envelope again and looked at the pass. Where it only had her name on it before, now it said 'plus 1 infant child'. She was about to thank him for all he did for her when he whipped his head around and looked up at the ceiling at something she obviously couldn't see. "Get going, just go. We're out of time. It looks like I got one more thing to do before we can close the door on this one and I can't do it from here." Without another word he turned and jogged back to his bike, which despite the number of people that tried to steal it, was still where he left it.
Lori showed her pass and was taken straight to the shuttle and helped her into her seat. Several people commented on how luck she was to have made it. The shuttle was supposed to have left two hours ago.
Meanwhile, in the shuttle cockpit…
"Check it again!" Crew Chief Anders was worried, angry, and desperate all at once. "I know the diagnostics have already been done a dozen times. There has got to be some reason the engines won't start!" Besides himself, there was the Co-pilot and 2 servitors, one for engineering and one for sensors. The engineering servitor ran the diagnostic routines one more time, the sensor servitor just quietly stared at his screens as it had nothing to do, and the Co-pilot grasped his Aquila tightly and prayed because the Crew Chief didn't really trust him to do anything else. He was the first one to see the engine rune turn form amber to green.
"We have green!" he shouted.
Preflight had been complete 2 hours ago, all they needed was for the engines to ignite. Anders flipped switches and pressed levers and started the shuttle down the runway, informing the tower after the fact that they were finally underway. "Good work Eddie." Eddie was the nickname for the engineering servitor.
They were most of the way down the runway and just starting to get lift when Eddie spoke up, "Diagnostic complete. No actions taken. No problems or defects located." This was the exact same response he had been giving for the past 2 hours for every diagnostic check he was told to perform. Anders just shook his head and made a mental note to get a diagnostic run on Eddie once they got back aboard the ship.
They broke atmosphere and aligned with the starship that was their destination. Almost at once, the sensor servitor spoke up. "Six Ork fighter bombers inbound from the port quadrant. Flight path indicates interception prior to docking. That was probably the last thing Anders wanted to hear. That is until the servitor continued, "Object approaching from directly astern. At current rate of speed it will overtake the shuttle in 20 seconds."
Anders checked his display screen. The Orks were there but that was all. "Sam (Anders nickname for the sensor servitor) are you feeling ok? I got the Orks on screen but I don't see this 'object'. How about some hard data, you're not usually this vague."
"Repeat, object. Object is seen only in visual display. No heat. No mass. No electrical or radiation signature. Object appears only as a light source.
Anders ignored Sam from that point and concentrated on finding a way to get past the Orks and on to the ship. Unless that 'object' was a miracle from the Emperor, he didn't have time to deal with it. Anyway, he'd know if it was going to kill him or not in about 10 seconds.
Lori had a window seat but the view had no interest to her. She was spending her time trying to keep Sebastian from being fussy. Tension and fear were high among the passengers and babies and small children can pick up on that kind of stuff even if they don't understand the cause. So far she was successful in keeping Sebastian calm, but down to her last bottle. She started when she heard a familiar voice say, "Hey, check it out." She looked about the cabin but did not see Angel anywhere, and then she noticed a light on the other side of the window. She looked out and smiled at what she saw. Angel was showing off.
Gone were the outlandish garb and the pudgy appearance. Angel was sitting astride a slightly translucent silver and black bike. His face was movie star handsome complete with long blond hair and his facial features could have been chiseled from stone. In place of the greatcoat he was garbed in flowing, brilliantly white robes cinched at the waist with a simple golden cord. Huge feathery, white wings extended from the back of his shoulders. And of course, there was a large glowing golden halo. What confirmed to Lori that it was Angel beyond any doubt was that he was still wearing the Rogue Trader boots and the holster with the bottle of amsec was still on the handlebar. Lori had to keep herself from laughing as she took in the rest of it. There are no roads or air in space and yet the wheels on the bike were spinning, his hair streamed out behind his head, and his wings were extended behind him as if he was meeting high speed wind resistance. Even the glow from the halo seemed to leave a short vapor trail. She looked around the cabin quickly to see if anyone else saw him and none had. All the viewports on her side of the shuttle had their shutters down except hers. She suspected that that was not a coincidence.
He drew a short hafted warhammer of a simple design from the quiver, saluted her and moved on. As he did she felt the baby bag shift and so she checked it. There were four full bottles in it now and there was a large can of powdered formula with a note attached. 'Now you can change water into milk too.' Also the compact stub gun that had been lying loose in the bag was now in an ankle holster.
On a whim, Angel pulled alongside of the cockpit and waved at the pilots. The pilots, just gazed, slack jawed, at what was outside their shuttle viewport. He put the hammer back in the quiver and drew the bottle of Jack from the holster, held it high in salute and then chugged a healthy portion of it. Replacing the bottle he drew out the hammer again and with a flick of his wrist the short handled warhammer became a long handled warhammer. He then shot forward in a stream of light.
One right after another the stream of light intersected with the oncoming Ork fighter bombers and they exploded as the light passed through them. The only thing that registered on the sensors of any nearby ship was the fact that the fighter bombers exploded, there was no indication of why. Only the two shuttle pilots saw the light. Later when the shuttle data logs were checked, there was no trace of the light on any of the recordings. They docked without incident and until they made the transfer to warp space, any Ork vessel that came near the ship, regardless of size, simply exploded before it got into firing range.
EPILOG 1
The pilots remained in awe of the miracle they witnessed and reported it to the Ecclesiarchy. Their story would have been dismissed outright if not for the fact that there was no other explanation for the Ork ships exploding when they got near the shuttle or ship. With difficulty they convinced the Ecclesiarchy that they witnessed a miracle. The rest of it took a bit more convincing. Even the most liberal of the Ecclesiarchy review board had a hard time accepting a bike riding, amsec guzzling, and hammer wielding Angel in Rogue Trader boots. In the end they accepted that an Angel sent by the Emperor had manifested to them but would neither endorse nor refute the description of said Angel. Slowly, a new patron saint for small craft pilots was grudgingly added to spaceport shrines. The Saint had no name and was just referred to as Angel, and his icon was that of an angel in white robes with a bottle of amsec in one hand and a hammer in another standing in Rogue Trader boots before a silver and black bike. The icon was usually well in the back where most people wouldn't see it, but all the shuttle pilots and fighter pilots knew where to find it.
Angel himself thought it was totally hilarious. He was told though, by the Boss that he could answer prayers to him as he saw fit. The reasons were two fold. First was that it was a start. Not the start that the Boss would have picked, but if people started praying in his direction through Angel he was not going to complain. The second one was that Angel really was the kind of saint that those kinds of people needed.
EPILOG 2
Lori went to the Schola Progenium with Sebastian and was currently sitting in an interview with the Ecclesiarchy clerk trying to get him accepted. The baby was thankfully asleep in Lori's arms as they went through the interview process. Sister Alexa of the Orders Hospitaller was the induction administrator for this Progenium and it was her duty to see that only qualified applicants were accepted. A brief examination of the baby showed that he was in very good health, so the only details remaining were of the child's patronage. Only the orphaned children of those whose parents died in the Imperial service were supposed to be taken in and this woman's story was dubious at best. The Progenium provided a special service to the Empire and was not a dumping ground for unwanted babies. She had listened to Lori's tale and although fascinating, it did not establish the required parentage requirement. They had been over it for almost an hour and seemed to be deadlocked on it. Sister Alexa started again, "So the child is a foundling."
"No, he is a rescue. He wasn't just left on my doorstep. His parents were with the PDF and were killed fighting Orks. I arrived at the scene just after the fight ended and when I heard him cry, I rescued him."
"But you have absolutely no documentation to prove those were his parents."
Lori sighed, "No, none. There was no time to search. More Orks could have arrived at any time." She sighed again and tried a different line of thought. "Do you believe in omens?"
Sister Alexa gave a weary chuckle, "I'm a member of the Ecclesiarchy, which means I usually give omens more thought than most. Why do you ask?"
"I discovered him roaring his defiance from amid a huge pile of dead Orks. That seems to me that he is destined," as she said it, she nearly choked as she realized it, HE was her destiny. "for great things." She finished with a slight cough.
Sister Alexa stared at her for a moment then mentally decided, why not? Besides, the influx of orphans had slowed lately and there was always a need for more children to be made into useful adults for the never ending needs of the Administratum. "Ok, you win. But before we process him in I have to make sure you're aware of the kind of life you're putting him in for. Most Progena become administrators. There is no patronage here. He will be assigned an initial posting based entirely on his skills. Those that show a talent for martial skills will become Storm troopers. Exceptional Storm troopers will become Commissars. It is a very hard life at all levels. Discipline is harsh and demanding, but progena go on to be some of the greatest leaders of the Imperium. Do you understand what you are doing to him?"
"Not to him, but for him." Lori responded sincerely. "And considering how and where I found him, I am sure he will become a Commissar."
"I see you do understand." Sister Alexa pulled out a data slate from the desk and activated it. "Let's get started. First name?"
"Sebastian."
"Last name?"
Lori flushed; she had no idea what his last name was. When Lori didn't answer, Sister Alexa looked up, "Oh, that's right, you don't know it. Well, he will need a last name. Go ahead and pick one."
Lori smiled as she looked down at the sleeping baby, "He can have my last name, Yarrick. That has a nice ring to it, 'Commissar Sebastian Yarrick'.
DISCLAMER: All song lyrics are the property of Meatloaf and no challenge or infringement is implied. They are presented here for entertainment purposes only.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Inspiration for this piece came from the official video for the song 'Rock and Roll Dreams Come Through' by Meatloaf. Check it out. Also, I know this is not canon; I just made it up because it amused me.
