Title: Angelus Erroneous
Author: Spike
Chapter: Two
And so myself and Xerxes marched away from the battlefield. With such a battlefield of such size and wreckage it would be obvious to think that more Orks will be on their way.
No doubt sharing the same thoughts of us as looting as much as possible.
Only with the Orks, it's not so much looting as pillaging.
Of course, conducting raids is really just another day in the life for Xerxes and myself. As such, we've been doing it for so long that we've developed our own plans when doing so: We move in as a quickly possible and we leave as quickly as possible. We find whatever we can, we determine which could be useful to our cause and we get the hell out before we're discovered.
It takes daring to pull off such a feat and it must take damn good cause to keep doing this.
And I can't think of a better cause than the need for survival.
For both Xerxes and I are the only humans situated on this forsaken hell-hole of a planet. And this world happens to be inhabited by those scum-sucking bastards of the galaxy: Those greenskins known as the Orks
This planet is one of many untouched by the Imperium. It is situated somewhere beyond the fringes of Imperial space. No one knows we are here.
But then again, who cares?
After all, we are criminals. I'm a deserter and he is fleeing from the prospect of financial ruin. We are both scum of the Imperium who are trapped on this wretched planet. And being trapped on such a dangerous planet, we don't have much hope of survival.
How fitting a predicament…..
Each day it is the same: My doomed companion and I continually battle against the seemingly endless mass of Orks who inhabit this planet. Off course it would be suicide to go up against them directly, so we are reduced to fighting a guerrilla war against small groups. Along the way, we have to scavenge in the name of survival.
We use whatever firearms and ammo we can find. Most of it is stolen from the Orks but in some rare cases, a wreck can turn up on this rock, already for plundering (provided the Orks don't find it first).
We eat whatever food we can find – using what we can find. Thus, during the time spent on this planet, we have consumed various plant life, some strange beasts that appear native to this planet and even some oddly coloured fruit (well it looked like fruit). We don't care what we eat, or how much an effect it has on our system: Just as long as it's edible. Of course chances are, I've consumed enough poison to last a regular human several lifetimes.
But no matter, all we're doing here is delaying the inevitable cold touch of death….
Why, even if the Imperium comes by, we're still no better off. What haven does the Imperium offer to a bunch of deserters? Chances are we'll be left to die this stinking rock. Or worse still, taken away to proper detainment or possibly even an execution
A pair of misfits trapped on a world dominated by those scum-sucking greenskins. It makes you wonder who in this universe would really care……
Xerxes keeps telling me he was a rogue trader. A captain of a mighty trading vessel that travelled from one end of the galaxy to the other, doing many dealings with the countless worlds that made up Imperial space. However, success went to his head and he lowered his guard – an act which gave his mutinous crew the chance they were looking for. Thus, Xerxes was ejected from his ship in an escape capsule and, somehow, found himself on this planet. .
But to be honest, I don't believe a word he says. There is something about him that tells me he isn't the trustworthy type. He claims the clothes he now wears was the uniform he wore during his captaincy but they look like the standard issue uniform of any Imperial officer. He says he is determined to leave this planet and return to make a living as a rogue trader – to which I wish him luck.
He even says he once traded with the Eldar – but who in their right mind would believe that nonsense?
Anyway, being trapped on a world infested by the greenskins doesn't sound like the most ideal situation in the universe. But, myself and my companions still manage to elk out a method of survival that lasted day after day.
However, just how long this way of life will continue to ensure our state of being alive is questionable.
But that's something we don't talk about…..
"I say old chap" Xerxes said cheerily "How about we take a look at our loot then?"
I paused.
We were both partway up a large slope. Down below, we could see, quite clearly, the wreckage and the clearing we'd just come from. So far there was no sign of any Orks but it was fairly safe to say that we were a fair distance away.
All seemed quiet and the all-too familiar stench of the Orks seemed quite weak.
"I do believe we've gone far enough" I said.
"Grand" the Rogue Trade replied, grinning.
I sighed in exasperation. For someone who is standard on an Ork World with no hope of survival, no future anywhere else and who must continually stay on his toes in an effort to stay alive, Xerxes is certainly cheerful.
And by the Emperor it gets on my nerves…..
For the time being however, we halted. We took a break form our fleeing to take the time to catch our breath and to admire the spoils of our latest scavenging escapade.
I looked up at the Rogue Trader. For the moment he was busy gazing over the greatest acquisition in this latest raid: the flamer. He was examining it for any rust points, burst tubing, fuel leakages and sight capabilities.
Don't know why he bothered: On this planet any weapon found was a good weapon. Anything that couldn't be fired just ended up being used as a bludgeon. If it worked then that was an added bonus.
Of course, we never used any Ork weapons. Not under any circumstances whatsoever. Sure we stole their weapons but that was only to steal the ammunition and then dismantle the weapon so we can then use the metal for other purposes.
No, something about using the weapons of the enemies we're constantly fighting day in day out didn't really create a reassuring thought on the mind.
It didn't matter if any weapon blew up on any of us. After all, it's not that this planet had anything to offer us at all.
Or the rest of the Universe for that matter.
I shrugged and began going through the gear I had picked up.
It certainly was an impressive bounty that I'd managed to pick up: Most of it came in the form of Imperial handguns, Laspistols, Bolt Pistols, but there was also several ammunition clips and grenades thrown in as well.
This was certainly a satisfying: There seemed to be a sense of purity in using human made ammunition in human made weapons. The thought of using converted Ork ammunition, whilst capable of getting the job done, didn't sit entirely easily in my mind.
No, give me good old human manufacturing any day – it has never let me down.
Nor do I see it doing so in the near future.
The grenades were certainly a rare, and indeed welcome, find. I had a considerable knowledge in the field of weaponry so since arriving here, I was able to build a series of explosives using whatever scraps of metal I could find as well as pieces of the many Ork weaponry taken from the many green-skins I had killed. Of course, they were terribly effective in killing of large groups of Orks but such explosives weren't the must reliable devices in the world: Some couldn't detonate upon impact, some actually fizzled out and died whilst others went off but didn't really end up killing their target out right. Still in the few times they worked, they did so brilliantly.
So it certainly was a refreshing change to have some genuine, reliable, Mars-manufactured, kill-anything-dumb-enough-to-come-within-fifty-feet, grenades.
Yep, these little babies will certainly be going places…..
Likewise, the pistols were a welcome addition but their discovery left something of a bitter taste in the mouth. In the pod crash, there were some far better weapons in the form of lasguns, autoguns, even the odd boltgun. In this game of scavenging, it was paramount that we act quickly: we had to find anything that came across as useful or interesting, determine whether it could a key addition to our cause and leg it as quickly as possible. Of course, such factors that went into the decision was whether the item was recognisable, of which alien technology went into its manufacture (we trust only human-made items purely because, well, we were all humans), and its size and weight. The last criterion was of particular importance: As we were always on the move and needed to be constantly prepared for a quick getaway, we didn't want to be weighed down with heavy weapons. As such we could take items that were small, light and could be carried around easily.
Such was the effectiveness of this policy that we were able to survive for this long in this eternally-hostile environment. But there were times when the policy let us down.
And this was one of them.
That crashed pod offered a wealth of great Imperial-made weaponry. Some of which would be far more effective in the art of Ork-slaying then the weaponry we had now. But we couldn't take it all, save for a small fraction. Thus, the majority of the weapons left behind were now left to the mercy of the Orks.
We couldn't go back and retrieve the abandoned weaponry. The only left for such weaponry now would be to be torn apart by the scum-suckin' green-skins.
What was worse was that arrival of the Escape Pod was an event that should have been exploited to its full extent: Having been stranded on this planet long enough to develop a sustainable way of life, I can safely say that the arrival of an escape pod like that was of something of a rare occurrence.
No scratch that – any escape pod is a rare occurrence, let alone one of Imperial make.
So what did we do? We gave up on the gathering up the best weaponry we will ever get in the space of time equivalent to at least twenty years!
Oh well, it's not like that weaponry would make a difference.
Most likely it'll only delay, however greatly, the inevitable…
Still I can't complain too much – at least what I picked up was of some use.
I then looked up to see what my 'companion' had managed to find.
He was still examining the flamer with a very careful eye. Of course, being interested only the flamer also meant he hadn't touched the other gear he had gathered up. As far as I knew, Xerxes had gathered something else along with the flamer but what exactly was it?
No idea what he intended to do with that flamer. In fact, I didn't see exactly what purpose a flame-based weapon held on this miserable rock. As any flamer ran on a specialised form of ammunition, as opposed to the material we appropriated from the Orks that we'd been using, it seemed doubtful as to whether it will have a long and useful lifespan here.
Still it would be fun to use – and considering that a weapon like this is rare find, it would certainly be a waste to scrap it. And if it truly has a limited lifespan, then we may as well use it until the fire in it runs out (bad analogy I know but hey, I'm stranded on a rock far beyond the borders the Imperium. I can do whatever I like).
After all, there was always the ever-appealing thought of engaging in the art of pyromania. What was also certainly pleasing was the thought of seeing one of those scum-suckin' green-skins go up in flames.
Yeah, feel the purifying flame of the Emperor's vengeance….
I shook my head. No I must stop thinking things like that….
My attention then turned back to Xerxes. I cleared my throat.
"Do you think it still works?"
The Rogue Trader didn't turn to look at me. Instead he kept his gaze aimed squarely down the barrel.
"It's possible" he murmured "I certainly can see this weapon being of some use"
"Funny" I said "I can see it being of a lot of use"
"But I wouldn't want to be one to try it out"
I got to my feet and strode over to the Rogue Trader. Then, without warning, I snatched the Flamer off him. Xerxes blinked in astonishment as I took aim, my sights settling for a nearby tree. The Rogue Trader opened his mouth but before he could issue a singly word of protest or alarm, I pulled the trigger.
Immediately, a jet of brilliant flame burst from the Flamer's nozzle. It scorched its way through the air before slamming its way into the tree. Within seconds, the tree lit up with flame – flame that burned an unstoppable path across the trunk and across the branches, sending everything into a mass of yellow and orange.
As the tree burned, I turned to Xerxes.
"It works" I said firmly.
And with that I turned away and walked off. I headed back towards my gear, hoisted it up and over my shoulder and proceeded into the jungle.
I had only gone a little way before I heard the running feet come up behind me.
"Wait up!"
I stopped walking but I didn't bother turning around.
"What the hell were you thinking back there?!" came a voice that only come from Xerxes.
"What are you talking about?"
"Lighting up a tree like that. You want the Orks to try and find us?!"
"Hell why not?" I snapped, turning around "I will gladly bring each and every Ork here on this miserable rock right over here just for the sheer pleasure of blowing them away!"
Xerxes looked stunned. Seems he wasn't expecting such a reaction.
But it didn't take him long before his expression grew angry again.
"That doesn't explain why you have lasted this long without throwing your life away!" he shot back
I shrugged.
"When I decide to die"" I said firmly "It will be fighting a massive horde of Orks. It won't be from any disease or upon any executioner's block. It will be in battle, the only true way to go out. And will be taking as many of these scum-suckin' green-sins with me."
"You don't care whether you live or die do you?"
"The way I see it, there's nothing for me up there" I replied "Nor is anything down here"
"Well say what you want" Xerxes grinned "At least I have the eternal belief there is something for me beyond this planet!"
I turned away.
"Whatever you believe"
And with that I turned and headed off.
After a slight pause I heard the sound of the Rogue Trader's feet came after me.
"So what did you find in that wreck?" I asked.
"Oh just some grenades and some decent ammo" he replied.
"You don't say….."
"Well then" I said. "Perhaps it's time we put such gear to good use, now eh?"
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