Marshaling Majesty - 1
Just like the rest of his men gathered around him, Captain Troy Malverick stood waiting beyond the city walls. Taking after his first name, Troy sported a grizzled mustache that went with his black stubble and normally short and tousled hair, though he made sure to slick it back for the arrival of the Imperial forces. Dressed similar to those he stood with, Malverick wore tan cargo pants that seemed to come up from out of their brown boots, with a matching shirt that had long sleeves; though, like many of the men around him, he made sure to have them rolled up. He wore a vest over the shirt, from which several spare clips of ammunition were attached, badges to mark his status as the planet's militia leader, and even a grenade. Holstered at his waist was a single black gun with several more clips of ammo and a walkie-talkie, while he kept a medium-range rifle strapped to his back. Standard armor and gear for those working to defend their planet from threats to their people, both internal and external.
The captain stood at the group's head, each man looking up expectantly, hoping that they would be the first one to spot their inbound visitors. Troy couldn't just see, but he could feel the sense of both awe and excitement coming from those gathered to greet their guests. Even some people from the city who had free time on their hands came to stand at the raised gate. However, though he found their enthusiasm to be a bit too much, neither could the captain of the militia find fault with their unbound energy. After all, it was very rarely that the empire sent out space marines to check on their planet. Even by the Troy's reckoning, the last time he'd seen one of the space marines was nearly ten years ago, when a small group of had come to take a census of their population, and only ten years before that had been his first time seeing one, when their planet was first entered into the Empire's system; in exchange for minerals that could be harvested from the planet they would be protected under the Empire, but no mining crews ever came and the desert planet went on forgotten.
Even to a newly indoctrinated planet such as theirs, the chapters of the space marines were legendary. Servants to the Emperor of Mankind, the prowess these soldiers wielded seemed ultimate, and it was all for the defense of man. Throughout the entire empire a thousand of these chapters existed, dedicated either to the protection of the Emperor or the eradication of mankind's enemies, and there were many sects that were busy fighting every day to hold back the forces that would see mankind wiped out or subjugated. So, in truth, when the captain first requested assistance against the Orks, he was surprised that a force had actually come at all, and figured that it would be up to his own people to get out of their rut.
He remembered that time grimly, when he was first forced to send out a call for aid. It was nearly a year ago when the first of the Ork attacks occurred, a skirmish on one of the trade routes that had left everybody dead. At first Malverick and his militia believed it to be the work of heavily armed bandits and so they went in search of the band of raiders responsible, but after scouring the hills they came to realize that the truth was much worse. Instead of finding renegades, the militia stumbled upon a fighting force of Orks in the hills, and it had been a terrible battle. The militia had come out on top then, but after that only more skirmishes took place, and they found themselves caught in a constant state of fighting against the greenskinned brutes. Not used to such fighting, that was when Captain Malverick sent out the distress call, never to hear back from Imperial forces.
With weekly fighting occurring in the desert wastes and no word from the Imperium, Malverick saw only one thing to do, and he marshaled his people as best he could. Though it was their first time fighting against Orks, all knew of their ferocious appetite for destruction, as well as their hatred for mankind, and all knew this was a foe that'd draw no quarter. Despite a lack of military experience, the captain of the militia organized his people well, and the Orks found their human targets to no longer be easy pickings. At this time, the planetary militia took to referring to Troy Malverick as Marshall, instead of captain, something he consistently tried to halt the use of. Yet, even with their settlements made safer, the greenskins still held authority over much of the wastes, and occasionally they would succeed in razing some town.
Then the attacks started to lessen, and people began to report spotting other strangers roaming the wastes, a taller group of people garbed in various pieces of clothing and armor, and bore masks each time they were spotted. However, while they appeared to steer clear of their settlements, people were still uneasy about their presence, and Malverick promised to investigate things. Then, one night, while drawing preparations to check the suspected range of hills, he found himself faced with the unexpected surprise of meeting the leader of these strangers hiding in the wastes.
Of course it turned out to be none other than one of the Eldar, another species just as well-known throughout the galaxy as either the Imperium or the Orks. At first Troy hadn't known how to react to the being before him, which referred to himself as Jester, for there were some throughout the empire who claimed the Eldar to be worse than even the heretical forces of Chaos. Yet, here the man was claiming to be the one responsible for helping to alleviate much of the pressure that the Orks had been putting on his people, and all he asked for in exchange was their presence to go ignored.
Thinking that the empire had forgotten about his planet, Troy Malverick saw little reason to turn down this Eldar's offer to hunt down the Orks for his silence. Since then, Jester would periodically arrive in his quarters unannounced to keep the marshal informed where the Harlequins were positioned, that way he could be sure to make sure his own patrols didn't go anywhere near. Yet, despite this going on for months, nobody ever said a word to him, and Malverick often wondered why nobody else ever seemed to know of the masked Eldar. He had asked Jester a few times before, but the infernal man always just laughed or said it was magic; in the end he gave up on finding out, and chalked it up to the Eldar using telepathy, which was an unnerving enough thought on its own for the marshal.
No matter the case, despite what others would have done if in his position, Troy Malverick had no issue accepting an offer of aid from the alien people. Furthermore, as nobody seemed to know about it, he felt at ease harboring the truth that there were Eldar hiding upon the planet. Besides, the space marines would be here to deal with the presence of Orks, not Eldar, so there would be little reason for him to mention anything at all.
Then, after a quarter hour passed by, the marshal's thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the first ship to bear the space marines. Just on time, Malverick thought to himself.
He'd been sitting in his quarters awaiting word from the chapter of marines on when they'd be landing nearly all morning. As morning turned to afternoon, the captain was contacted and told that he could expect their arrival outside the city in fifteen minutes; and whoever he spoke to even gave the exact coordinates that the ships would be landing. Naturally, as the highest authority on their planet, it was expected of him to greet the newcomers. Knowing that the Imperial forces would be arriving on that day, there were many in the city that waited eagerly to find out when the fateful hour would be, and word spread quickly as Malverick made preparations to meet with the leader of the space marines until he had all but the entire city defense positioned to at least see their initial landing.
The first of the ships to come down was a lengthy vessel, with a short cockpit and a long back end where the troops where Malverick suspected the troops to be held. Sure enough, as the transport ship slowed for landing, it maneuvered so that the longer side faced toward the crowd. While it descended closer to the ground the jets on its underside caused a storm of sand to shoot out, and the militia was forced to step back several feet. In the meantime there were three legs that extended out from the bottom of the ship as it was suspended in the air before it finally landed safely. Already there were three more ships dropping out from the blue skies, black dots that swiftly grew larger as they approached: two of the vessels were similar to the first of the transport ships, while the third was much larger, and Troy Malverick could only guess at what might be contained within its metal belly.
When the last of the ships finally touched down the back end of the transport vessel standing before the militia opened and a metal platform extended out to the ground. Then a hulking figure walked to where the ship opened up from, appearing as nothing more than a shadow against the light of the ships interior, and he stood there staring at the large reception group gathered just for their arrival.
(-****-)
Troy Malverick, Marshal of the People, broke away from the hushed crowd of guardsmen and walked toward the foot of the platform, stopping only when he stood but a few feet away from where it touched down. The figure standing at the other end of the ramp continued to look down on them until two others came up to stand behind each of his shoulders, and more filed up behind them as well. The marshal noticed that the other ships were now opening as well, and guessed that a similar procession was being prepared in each. Then, once the line stretched beyond Troy's view from where he stood on the ground, the hulking figure at the forefront of the platform started to walk down.
Getting past his middle years, there was very little that surprised Marshal Malverick, but when he saw the marine that walked down from the platform he gaped. Completely covered from head to toe in a black suit of ancient power armor unique to the space marine chapters, the man – and he had to be a man due to his great girth – easily towered over the six foot marshal. He wore a magnificent tabard of thick, red and black cloth that covered his entire torso, tucked into the girdle of a great iron cross, and which trailed down in front of his legs just past the knees. A metal cross rose up from behind his head, and the skulls of fel monsters and sinful men adorned his armor at the joints, while in other places spiked studs protruded from his wrists and elbows. At first such morbid décor at first setback Troy Malverick, but then he imagined to himself that it was a message to the wicked; that they should fear the coming of these fearsome black warriors.
Unlike his comrades behind him, this man wore no helmet, but merely had a mask fixed to his bald head over the nose and mouth. As he drew closer, Troy was able to see that there was a terrible scar, much like a rip instead of a cut going down his left eye, and the red glow of a cyborg eye gleamed from the socket. There were two large bolt pistols on either side of his hips, and one of the marine's famous chainswords was secured to his back. Malverick eyed this weapon with wonder, for it was known that such a weapon could cut clean through an enemy in mere seconds due to the biting teeth that lined the blade.
As he walked down the platform, which was large enough for two of the marines to walk down side-by-side, those who had stood in back of him followed. Troy could see that the other ships had already gotten started with unloading their passengers, but those marines didn't approach, and stayed standing at attention close to their ships. Finally, the leader of the marines stepped onto the sand and walked to stand before the marshal while the rest of his soldiers formed a line on each of their sides, and left them standing in the middle.
They stood in silence for several moments, and in that time the marine only stared down at him. As if to try and impress the marines, the marshal also noticed that the militia had straightened themselves out as well. Well, here goes nothing, Troy thought to himself.
"You must be the commander of this force. I thank you for responding to the distress call we sent out," he started to say before the space marine cut him off.
"Are you the man who communicated with our frequency this morning?"
"Yes sir."
"Troy Malverick… You should be commended for your ability to marshal a defense against the Orks with nothing but your own people. The greenskins are vicious fighters – it's a surprise that you're doing as well as you have been, Captain." Troy turned his head slightly at the leader's depreciative tone, which came out deep and cracking from behind the mask, but remained silent as the man continued. "I am Jorval Corvis, Chaplain of the Emperor's Wrath Chapter, and leader of the group you see before you. We have long engaged in combat against the foul Ork scum and were chosen to cleanse your planet of the stain that their kind are." Jorval then motioned with a single large hand toward the militia gathered close by, and along the walls. "Since these men are armed, am I to presume that they are part of the Planetary Defense Force that has been safeguarding this planet?"
"That is right, Sir…"
"Chaplain Corvis, Captain Malverick – now that we are here," Jorval said, "there is no need for your men to possess their weaponry any longer. Have them disband and return their arms and ammunition to the armory. I and my men will use your town's barracks as our headquarters during our stay." Completely disregarding Malverick's presence, the chaplain turned slightly to look back at the greatest of his four ships. Out of all of the vessels it had landed closest to the town, and, looking inside, Troy saw that there was at least two tanks sitting inside, maybe three. "Depending on how long we are required to stay and deal with the Ork threat that wall may have to come down and be extended to protect our armory. The barracks is just on the other side there, yes?" Jorval asked, turning toward the marshal once again.
For once, Troy found himself at a loss for words as the marine seemed to slowly take things over bit-by-bit. "That it is, Chaplain. The sector of the city you're looking at provides housing for the militia."
"This is a city?" Jorval said incredulously. "Well, no matter, either way we will have to tear part of the walls down immediately and make a gate for me and my men to pass through, so that we may reach the armory more quickly."
When he had called on the Imperium it had been aid, not a takeover. Now, as how quick the marines were to take charge, Malverick wondered if he ought to regret sending out the distress frequency. But he wasn't sure how to negotiate with the space marine before him. Right away it was clear that he wouldn't be able to see things from his perspective, and it was already said that the rigorous psycho-conditioning that the Chapters put their soldiers through often left them unsympathetic, and sometimes downright cruel, to the members of mankind they deemed weak.
"Chaplain Corvis, we'll certainly be glad to provide shelter for you and your men, but would it truly be prudent for my men to return their arms? What if there is an Ork attack on the settlement, shouldn't we have as many men as possible around to help defend the city?"
"I see the point you would wish to make, Captain Malverick, but, as your people are merely a self-trained fighting force, they may wind up causing additional problems for my own men if such an attack does occur. Rest assured, I'll see to it that at least one squad always remains on watch while we're out. Now, unless you wish to express other concerns or troubles, it would be best if we hurried along so my men can get situated."
Jorval Corvis gave Troy a hard stare, and the captain gulped under that harsh gaze. "No sir, you've made your point."
The chaplain nodded at him, and then proceeded to issue orders. "You've all heard my order, now return your armaments. Any attempt to retain them will be looked at as treason against the Emperor, and be dealt with as is appropriate." He spoke next to his own men. "Inform the other groups that we're to take refuge in the barracks, but I would like for one of the squads to remain within the barracks and keep watch over the vehicles."
"Yes Lord Corvis!" One marine said as he stepped forward to lead the squad of a dozen to their brethren. At the same time the militia, who were previously unsure as to whether or not they should wait for their marshal's order, now returned back to the city crestfallenly. Before long, only Troy and Jorval remained, and the two regarded each other; the captain looking grimly dismayed, while the chaplain appeared so bored that he also seemed irate.
"Well, Captain Malverick, lead on to your headquarters. It would be best if we started to form plans for scouring this desert right away."
Captain Troy Malverick turned on his heel and started to walk toward the gates, with the chaplain right on his heels. As Troy looked at the walls and thought of the city hidden behind them, he couldn't help but wonder if he had just delivered his people into the hands of a tyrant.