Storm of Penance
This is the story of a Death Korps guardsman whose tormented past constantly burdens his actions as a soldier of the Imperium. In a backwater planet, thrown into another pointless war he finds his place in life as he falls in love with an Eldar woman.
"In war we live, through love we grow, in penance we die"
Chapter 1: Litany of sacrifie
The slow and lumbering truck came into a halt in front of the assembled line of soldiers. As on cue the old machine complained with a grunt as its more than once reassembled hull stopped its motion. With sloth the sergeant opened its lateral hatch and made a waving move to the rigid men of the squad. In order one by one entered the truck, all moves being calculative and precise. The last one before finally sealing the door took a second to admire its corrupted beauty, his dusted gas mask concealed a sad smile as the spires of his hive probably would be his last look into the past.
"Reave¡
Are you waiting for a nice lady to send you a kiss or what? Close the damn hatch and be done, we are already low on time"
"Yes sarge"
He took another lengthy second before closing it off and taking a seat as if that second would materialize his hopes in front of him. He knew all damn too well how futile the gesture had been.
'If only you had come…'
He was Krieger through and through. The life in the hive was harsh and unforgiving. The wastes of the planet while lethal were the only kind of nature he found security on, like a mad man´s trance. From the smouldering ruins of long blasted building in an already forgotten war to the toxic clouds of the planet of Krieg he found himself at home. Such a wasted orb bloated with disease and suffering made a fine bunker for billions of vermin, stack in a constant wariness of dying off and be forgotten. For them happiness came from routine and work, familiar places and actions that everyone would thrive for when those were absent. This partial nightmare makes the hell hole that we today call today Krieg, his home.
From childhood a very strong urge to explore was what made him a natural candidate for the guard; undoubtedly it sometimes caused him more problems than benefits on the long run but no one really knows what lies ahead. Remarkably he had a particular fond in exploring the underhive against the will of his elders. Mutants and thugs competed for the dirtiest pit of the galaxy in sparring contest, an occasional shot and murder on every corner of the scraped project of a city made this a particularly dangerous hobby but his unequal ingenuity always saved the day.
Krieg was and is infamous for the infantrymen it produces, a legion of black coated messengers of death called the Death Korps. Their defiance unparalleled in the hole Imperium as a beacon of hope, millions of men and woman who would never leave their duty in fulfilment of their own cowardice. Beings made of steely muscle and unbreakable will, prepared to march into hell for the protection of mankind, no remorse on their backs and no mercy on their blades.
The planet manufactured them like an artisan would chisel a finely crafted desk, always seeking the most minuscule of holes to tear apart the lives of those unlucky enough, Death ever vigilant, adopting legions of horrendous mutants and incurable diseases under its despicable presence.
After all it was still home, His home. As his parents very well new becoming member of the Korps, was most likely a death sentence, never desiring him to become part of it they introduced him to a local noble who lived from renting and repairing military equipment. Reave had the uncommon talent with metals only a blacksmith could master, his intellect launched his love for machines and engineering beyond a mere job. The affairs of an engineer back home were to repair, construct and outfit every piece of technology this planet needed, through his hands anything could get back to working life.
But talents are not what define a man. His dreams yet to be conquered on the other hand do, as such his restless mind found itself wondering of the vast universe, his thoughts anchored in his ignorance of the overall picture. No barrier could withstand his thirst for knowledge, an urge for exploration so primal that he found himself lost in the cramped corridors of his hive.
The canvas of incandescent glows that is the firmament called him without consolation in pursuit of a worthy explorer, with the imposed decision by an incomprehensible force demanded of his vowels someone who would unveil all its secrets.
Such is how from the eternal dust of his planet he would stand up, arms raised to the stars, his only burden being the sickness that would follow his father until his death-bed mere days before his 22th birthday.
The boy no longer was, a man had taken its place after all those hard years of life and miseries. Reave was not much taller than his father was, standing at a good 1.85 meters. The broad shoulders he so proudly carried gave him an imposing figure even if he was not the biggest fish on the bowl. Two small orbs of a seasoned blue swirled with silver in an amalgamation of deep sea colours, his look one of disdain and intelligence.
Short, cut tight oak coloured hair gave the man an outlandish look, his hair being considerably longer at the top of his head, a messed up fringe marking its end. He had a peeve habit of erecting his fringe at themere suspicion of it having given up on fighting gravity, his right hand seemingly impossible to contain by his side, a gesture that would never leave it´s bearer.
Hand labour gave him quite a strong image; the resilience imbued in his sharp features gave Reave a maturity beyond his age, his chin was sharp and prominent, most of the time jaws were peppered with a three days beard.
Many years had passed since that pitiful work for the noble; still his more than talented hands with machines made him pursue the career bestowed upon him without a second thought. As a natural engineer many times had the Administorum solicited his help for repairing equipment, an occasional well fared citizen appeared to give him a device in need of some of his touch, and in even rarer circumstances a thug who wanted to pimp up his guns would call for his help.
With no little effort the old garage where his old boss staffed irreparable scrap, tools and throne knows what, was transformed into a comfortable workplace as the old bastard in a show of regret handed over to his best worker the garage. Pools of oil graciously decorated it´s soil, the order in the room non-existent with tools hanging in places were only the craziest of artist would think fitted them. His workbench flanked the entrance to the garage, leaving plenty of room for him to guard his stuff and have a good view of the hive. In the meantime when nothing was to be done, he waited at the doorstep, carefully looking at the crowd whose presence flooded the streets.
The day of his 22th birthday, his heart having skipped several bits after his last family had passed away, he stood there with no work waiting for him. Between the frontier that separated the hive´s madness and his more or less ordered refuge, at least until a ghostly figure whom would be the bane of his live materialized in front of him.
A Slim and tall woman with long black hair, with a curly touch to it, stood out of the rabid animals which were the streets of the hive, amassed with people, hardly even able to see above them as the dome of buildings shadowed the unnatural weightless movements she made. Her walking embroiled every one of his senses, moving with grace through the crowd, never disturbing the flow of people. A skin pale as silk defined a fine curvature only veiled by a finely crafted blue dress, setting what was of importance and lacking any kind of clutter were it was´t.
He stood there, looking, observing like a sniper would follow its prey, not even breathing and without blinking, fearing that it would disturb this superb hallucination. In a mere sight he fell in love. He had just discovered what ment to love someone whose blood is not yours, to meet that one person for whom you would throw into the jaws of hell without hesitation, that one and single curse whose very image would follow all your steps until your life force would slip away.
Reave may had been an oblivious dreamer most of his life, but sure as hell he would not let this dream slip away. His sweated shirt, dirtied with oil and other unguents and the olive military stile trousers he wore would have to do, as a lightning would crack through the clouds, he ran, never stopping until she was at his grasp…
M41:432
Segmentum Obscurus.
System Eta Carinae.
Designation: Planetary siege.
State: On going.
Forces: PDFs, Death Korps of Krieg.
The camp was a mess, still with a careful balance between total caos and the delicate order maintained by a column of command whose orders took each squad into its designed labour. A bolt to the head tends to be a more than convincing offer when dealing with the daily affairs of a soldier in need of cohesion and order. Nevertheless the Korps were different, no other force in the imperium could match their dreaded and cold efficiency aside from the Astartes. The first line soldiers having more balls and an impervious will specialiced in making the enemies of man suffer under holy fire.
Reave had not seen his homeworld since his entering on the Guard, four really long years since the last farewell would pass. The greater part of those years would be spent inside the blocky transports of the imperial navy with thousands of men cramped in tight spaces that only hivers would value as enough vital space. This situation made for a good opportunity of making relations with other soldiers, as their only way of entertainment was an occasional chatter, the windowless ships leaving little to no room for imagination.
Through the innate boredom these ships funnelled into every men he would fine comfort in exploring those dreaded environments where his company would be deployed. Only the transports gave him a brief moment of contemplation before thundering into another battlefield.
Today, the day of his 26th birthday, his company would be deployed into a verdant paradise called Cestis under the orders of a decrepit Imperial guard general named Dacius. Three regiments of Death Korps guardsman alongside numerous Catachan jungle fighters had been sent to the planet in help of the local forces. The Cathachans would serve for quick operations in the densest of forest, while the Death Korps would be the anvil and hammer that would catapult the war in favour of imperial forces and crash any opposition.
He as a member of the 43th battalion was sent to the fray along his longstanding friend Karl. Both had been together for the most part of their lives confronting the same adversities and fighting the same injustices. Saying they were flesh and bone would be an understatement. Their families had shared a small apartment at the hive, them being kids in a tight space with no one else to befriend made inevitable for them to not make a strong bond. Furthermore their relation became far more inmate as all of Reave´s loved ones had perished one by one, leaving the boy by himself.
Karl was certainly the crutches that sustained his friend in the direst of moments, always with a smile in his face knowing what would be the appropriate words needed at any given time. He was not dissimilar to a clown for the squad, his jokes and pranks awakened the all but necessary laugher in the men that surrounded his figure.
At night Reave and Karl had managed to get a Little rest after being ordered to maintain the increasing pile of broken lasguns and equipment they had to repair, by order of the commissar, not to stop unless they had made every single gun flawless and he could see himself on their shiny coat of paint.
Karl decided that to snap some jokes here and there would do no harm and left their shared tent in a blink of an eye; Reave refusingly followed as his body begged for some sleep, tired beyond measure he gave a shrug in defeat and simply followed his friend.
The night was cold, really cold as the place delighted it´s visitors with the cool of a fridge. Alongside the fainted light irradiated by the pair of moons, whom observed the planet from orbit, the dim orange shine of fire painted a wintry picture. The clouds caressed softly the sky, darkness came to sleep in calm, sheltered by the protective wings of silence.
Thousands upon thousands of black coated tents laid in rows that would be identified from orbit as ants whose work oiled the great machine which was war. A nearly deserted oasis in a sea of green was its basement, human hand having carved a stronghold that could resist a thousand sieges. The mortal inhabitants passed the night redeeming themselves with fiery liquor and contagious laugher.
Karl threw a bunch of blankets near the fire to make a fine sit, taking it as his personal throne. Reave followed and sat cross legged besides his friend and gave a grimace to the scene. This were the moments he liked most in the Guard, just a council of soldiers wanting to pass the night in some ressemblance of a family.
"Lads, anyone want to have a good time?"
The pack was called by the crimson haired Krieger; Karl instead of the bulky appearance of his friend had a more slender figure, its strength hid in plain sight. Freckles painted an obscure line on his chicks; the pale brown eyes that stood above did little for accentuating their presence.
"Not gonna give you any pleasure this night dear." snapped Fred with a grin on his face, as he sat on top of his helmet, the rude man, not much smaller than an ogryn had trouble maintaining balance on the tiny piece of metal.
From behind a parked truck that stood beside the tents, appeared the sergeant followed by a silent Rick whose intervention in the squad´s life rarely exceeded that of battle preparation. A bottle of stolen amassed glued to the sergeant hands called the attention of the assembled men, their eyes wide as the moons that stood above in expectation of the fine liquor.
"Boys look what I´ve got here, a finely smuggled bottle of broken dreams. Cheer up if you want some of it." Said the sergeant as he took its place by Reave´s left side.
As on cue all of them stood up and gave a loud roar in celebration, Fred also articulated an excited whistle. Their buts back on place, the scarred sergeant shared the liquor with his men, half of the bottle already wolfed down when it got back to his hand.
"Damn drunkards... She hasn´t lasted very long"
They sat around the bonfire, wasting their sleeping time before finally going to bed, in pursuit of a well-deserved easing. A myriad of sounds flooded the camp, having become ones of distant laugher with an occasional shout conjugated by the cracking noise of Wood being consumed by fire. Rivers of alcohol were consumed that night as bottle after bottle appeared in their hands. Drunken the pair decided to retire, wobbly leaping over Fred´s body as he happily slept on top of a rock. Karl dropped himself on the uncomfortable table that their superiors called bed, the tiresome of the entire day having made a toll on him.
"Holy emperor I needed some rest." said Karl with tremendous sloth in his words, ending the phrase with a hiccup. The last day had been a harsh one as some illuminated pdf decided that attacking the enemy position without proper air support was a good idea, and now they were stuck with more than enough crippled tanks to repair.
The many years at home repairing military equipment made Reave a valuable asset, not needing of those freaks of the adeptus mechanicus looking over every single scratch of paint, always prepared to rub their surfaces with really hard to clean oils. Karl was a mere assistant, but his work nevertheless made the task at hand far more manageable.
Reave grimaced and was now face up as he tried to alleviate his nausea just a mere deviated though from vomiting. His right leg laid on top a mountain of dirty clothes while his eyes impervious to their surroundings kept closed trying to contain his dizziness.
"Without the cogboys here to swarm the base with servo skulls and servitors we are pretty much the only people here who know how to keep these things working so… Deal with it"
He said clumsily while one hand rubbed his eyelids, the head on top of the other arm as his feet moved in the same example. Only after a slow succession of controlled breaths his nausea started to disappear. With a heavy sigh and his mind making those unphysical flips that only alcohol could provoke, his mind left his body and imbued itself in thoughts that would be better kept locked.
Throne he missed her.
Reave had been with the guard for almost 4 years now. Karl always was by his side, together they had seen many things that would make any ordinary men melt down.
From his childhood he desired with an insurmountable amount of love the idea of taking a seat on the Korps to explore the vastness of the universe. His dreams had to be postponed by the affairs live would throw in his direction. When Macha appeared on his sight everything changed.
No choice was left on him when she died. His soul had been torn apart with her loss, never to be reassembled. What once stood as a way of making his deepest hopes becomestrue now was a cold and unforgivable way of erasing his misfortunes. The living had become far direr, as the end of the tunnel did not have an inviting light on to which tie his fate, only the obscure certainty of eternal loneliness.
Every night he dreamed the same thing over and over again. It was a recurrent nightmare, the very moment when the life he had so hardly constructed was propelled into the abyss. The face he so much felt in love with the first gaze now lay broken, with a sad smile devoid of life stared at the nothingness.
Wondering if even living was worth anything, the only thing that kept the train of his life not getting out of rail was his anger, the anger at a unjust universe that constantly procured death to the few that deserved to live. Full of hatred for the captivating liar who had decided he was not worthy of his blessing. That was his fuel, not brainless loyalty to a cause he couldn´t even see with his own eyes nor to pursuit a better life, he was there to redeem himself. Perhaps one day all would come into place.
Perhaps...
Time is meaningless when your mind leaves the real world. His concentration had kept him imprisoned for at least an hour, only to be broken by his friend voice. As he turned his face to the voice motion sickness made his nausea appear again, blood pressuring in the veins that crossed his temples with much greater strength as each heartbeat was gifted with a sting of pain.
Mental note, do not drink anything that the Watchmaster offers.
"Reave."
"Yeah?"
Throne his head pained.
"Do you think that we did something bad in another live? Pissed off the wrong god and now we are stuck in our version of hell." Karl said curiously looking at a trinket like some kid with a toy.
Struck by the sudden 'what is the meaning of life' type of question Reave took a few seconds to think his answer.
"Care to elaborate?"
The red-headed gave a nod and shrivelled his expression in sign of having a hard time deciding what to say.
"We´ve been together through pretty batshit crazy things for what? Almost four years now? That is a long time if you ask me." His expression was melancholic with a taint of sorrow in his eyes. Karl had eased on the bed and now had his toy lost in the folds of his uniform." And I´m starting to grow tired of all of it."
Reave gave a thoughtful expression. Through all those years he had never even considered that the jubilant man had a stroke of remorse. Usually it was him the one having a strong urge on giving up. He so much hated what life had prepared for him that not a single time he had considered that his friend also stood defiant against the same problems.
"You know pretty well that also do I. The Korps is a capricious lover in the sense that it demands more than ever gives back. Maybe one day we both will be having a well-deserved vacation on some distant beach loss of the hand of god" Both gave a chuckle and kept their sight locked into the tent ceiling, a grin of a smile lumbering in their faces.
That would be truly a blessing if they ever came up victorious.
With a sight he let his right arm fall limp outside his bed and shrugged."At least I swear that something above us hates we are still breathing. If that is some petty commander or the God Emperor himself is something I don´t Know" said Reave with a contemplative look on his eyes.
Karl limited to give a meditative hum in response, his face gave off the impression of processing stacks upon stacks of information as if that would bring a definitive answer to his respond. Reave gave a half-hearted chuckle at the naive look of his friend.
He may be a battle hardened soldier but his interior child was still toying inside his mind.
That man was the only reason he was still awakening each morning, had it not been for his sense of humour he would have thrown himself in a suicide charge to end that joke of a life he had. As his mind danced with the idea, exhaustion overtook and blackness embraced his troubled mind as his eyelids slid down with as much speed as a sloth would use to take a piece of fruit.
Cestis was exactly what every Krieger would…
Despise. A healthy and beautiful planet full of life. It reminded them of what history took from their people like a monument to all their sins.
The place was full of verdant grass, like if a benevolent god had made it his plaything, making it seem like a constant spring was going on. Intensely coloured birds and other fauna difficult to classify peacefully lived in this heaven not bothering to interact with the humans that had invaded their habitat. Relatively 'untouched' by humanity the landscape had very few scars on its surface, only the starts of future cities and the ones already consolidated dared to defy the overall unison in the planet. For a couple hundred years nature would endure… not much hope for it after that.
The weather had a weird sense of humour as at day light a healthy temperature delighted its inhabitants; at night human life would barely sustain itself at the wake of a nightmarish and bone chilling cold frost would engulf the planet's surface. Like a figurative middle finger the local fauna and flora effortlessly survived the hard contrast, placidly mocking the puny humans.
It was an explorator fleet the one who not so long ago discovered the planet a few hundred years ago, the greenish orb and her two grey brethren that danced hidden in the eternal night now were the queens of the bail. As the amebae the imperium was, this oasis would get consumed and added to its limitless dominion.
In the sense that many wise men once said, war is inevitable, humanity its utmost defender. As prove of how the survival of the fittest mentality would accompany the species all its history, blood would run prematurely in our wake. The conflict first started as a rebellion thought to be easily extinguishable, at the eyes of outsiders, all fault of the heretic populace. But nothing is that easy, isn´t it?
He had seen many times people fight for good reasons, things that any none brainwashed twat would stand for, but the imperium being the shithole it is tends to destroy anyone who stands on the way of their corrupted leaders. The justice and the happiness of the population was the lowest of priorities, any kind of freewill was an affront to The Emperor was constantly repeated in each imperial world not by words but by punishment.
Half the colonized planet was at war with the local planetary governor, Otton masslow. The man had grown up to a dreaded state that even inquisitors would have problems in achieving. Trembling while walking, yet tenacious and fearsome, an aura of despair followed the man where ever he stepped.
Otton was ambitious, perhaps too ambitious. He sought total power, absolute control of everything this garden world had to offer, some lesser inquisitors saw in him a potential problem as power makes people hungry of that addictive liquor. Funnily enough the war that came as a means to seek his dethronement sought the destruction of those who wanted his life ended, freedom from the claw that was rending the planet to its annihilation. Death incarnate, for at his very indication millions would be purged to never come back, his will unfathomable.
The Korps were sent to "pacify" the local rebels and give the planet back to the Governor, as always war is not just a matter of who shot first or when but a complicated web of lies and poisonous pride. Such was the sad reality behind this convoluted plot. By the time the Korps had made planet fall the situation had devolve into a stalemate, those rebels were fighting like a rabid animal inside its cell, not giving a single meter of soil, backed up by intense artillery bombardment and heavily entrenched. Many attacks were thrown right into the enemy heavy bolters, claiming the life of many men in a display of unnecessary slaughter. Was the emperor´s currency so worthless?
Most of the frontlines where the loyal troops stood were under heavy fire, their imaginary lines blurred as the kill zones between trenches had widen up to several kilometres. A nearby explosion caught the attention of the pair who not so long ago rested inside Morpheus hand´s.
"What Th..?" Reave snapped clumsily, tucking a hand on the bed to test his surroundings, light of a newly arrived day dazzled his unaccustomed eyes.
"Reave, take this" Karl threw a krak grenade in his general direction that nearly slipped Reave grasp as his mind was still awakening. Throne forbid if that would have happened.
He hated when Karl did such things.
"That explosion was too near for comfort" He claimed as if it wasn´t obvious enough.
"We need to reassemble. Get your equipment ready by yesterday" Nearly ordered Reave to his friend who stopped bluntly his compulsive search at the comment.
"You know that you are no superior to me, don´t you?"
This is no time to protest buddy.
He sighed and exited the tent with his lasgun being scooped up mid walk, Karl shortly followed. Both ran to the place where the last night a bonfire heated their bodies. The sergeant was barking something left and right trying to make order of this chaos.
"Ok listen lads. We have enemy armour incoming from the northwest with a heavy push of infantry right behind it" Said their superior tracing a line in an old and dusted map of the region, marking a route that crossed a canyon. The only treeless place in a good radius from their position, a lengthy Summit of mountains flanked the both sides of the canyon making it a natural choke point, one which had an important airstrip hid inside it.
"They are expecting to take over the airstrip and successfully deny us any kind of provisioning. The consequences would be… Catastrophic. If we lose those birds, we are pretty much going to run the whole campaign with what we have now". Said the sergeant painting an imaginary circle in a plateau at the far end of the canyon, the only affordable point where air supplies could be done near the frontlines.
A rough and dirty Fred raised his hand in protest to intervene. "Sarge, but what about planting some mines, they have yet to pass between those slopes at the end of the canyon. That way we can block their movement before their armour reach the staging point"
A grimace of approval on his face the sergeant nodded to the proposal. Sometimes the big guy had a good idea lurking inside that sawdust container.
"Ok I like your idea, sounds like a plan. Any objections?"
None said anything and he took it as a confirmation.
"You three will go to the left slope and plant some charges, for what I've been informed the zone is not really stable and with a explosion we can force it to go down" Said the man signalling Karl, Fred and Reave.
"Rick will go with me. We´ll advance past the trench and wait as a jack of all trades with some launchers. Hope we get their attention a throw them into the trap". He said to the emotionless Rick, whose only respond was a near imperceptible nod, to what the sergeant simply sighed in exasperation.
All now standing with the hand into their hearts shouted in the unison:
"In life, War¡
In death, Peace¡
"In life, Shame¡
In death, Atonement"
Roaring in excitement, ready to wage war, into the horizon they marched, for the Emperor was watching them that day.
Authors note: Hi to everyone who had shown interest in my humble project. This constitutes my very first attempt at writing anything akin to a story and English is my secondary language so please be patient with the more than sure mistakes I will commit.
I have to highlight that a good chunk of the story is more or less written and would appreciate feedback. I promise you that unless I die (hope it doesn´t come to that) this story will get finished. Many times I have become attached to a fan fiction to discover that the author had abandoned the project midway and I won´t be part of that practice.
This is an image that pushed me write in the first place about this topic. I think warhammer deserves a proper romance between elder/human that gets finished (which unfortunately there are quite a few good ones such as Suffer not the xenos to live, that never get completed).
art/Love-s-Out-Of-Season-208565139
My recommendation: Read the work
The witch is forbidden.
That wonderful story is hidden in the mature section of the page and I instigate you out of mere admiration for the author´s work.
Thank you all.
