Speculum Enigmate Chapter 6

Through the Warp a small ship sailed, riding psychic currents like a fish slipping along a fast stream. Dodging whirlpools of despair and reefs of grief she dove over waterfalls of passion and narrowly avoided being dashed to pieces on the rocks of adulterous lust. She flew down the cyclic flows to Tectum then up the tributary branch leading to the Heraculan Deeps, but when she passed Sucaris she broke away and began tacking across shoals of avarice towards the glimmering island of life that was Pascum.

The vessel was small by void standards, a mere Gladius-class frigate and her name was the Eternal Fidelity. Within the ship Persion was laying on his back, staring at a bare metal ceiling as red paint hardened on his armour. The new Lieutenant was propped up by his backpack generator and his Friction Axe lay at his side. Nearby the sound of boltguns faded as the battle ended, leaving one team victorious and the other defeated. Persion should have been elated at the result but in truth he was angry, and he was determined to take it out on someone. Persion got to his feet and clamped his axe to his hip as he voxed, "Sergeants, report to me."

He was in a mock-up of an urban street, a recreation of a battlefield perfect down the rubble on the ground and the smoking ground-cabs burning on their sides. All Astartes vessels boasted training facilities that could recreate any environment imaginable. The largest Battlebarges could host three whole Companies at once. The Fidelity wasn't quite so impressive, she could only fit a street or two in her training arena but it was enough for a few squads to practice manoeuvres. Persion had been running drills with his new command, but it hadn't gone well. In fact it had been a complete mess.

Persion stood impatiently as several Marines emerged into sight. First came Jediah, his blue team trudging along in defeat. He had with him Sergeant Yones and nine more Primaris Intercessors, beaten but not defeated in spirit. From the other direction came Sergeant Zeax, his burly Devastators lugging Heavy-bolters while the Sergeant held a Thunder Hammer and Storm Shield. Then there was Gotram of the Reivers, striding cockily along in victory. The last person was Apothecary Memnos, whose white armour was spattered with blue paint.

Persion waited for the lot of them to stop in front of him then spat, "What was that?!"

Gotram spoke first, "It looked like a victory to me."

Persion glared at his insouciant face and snapped, "Victory?! You used me as bait then shot everybody in sight!"

"Yes," Gotram replied, "And?"

Persion gestured at the red paint on his armour then snapped, "I was on your side!"

Gotram shrugged in his lighter armour, "Acceptable causalities."

"Just stop talking," Persion hissed, "Zeax, where were you?"

Zeax glared back defiantly as he growled, "I was exactly where you told me to be. Set up in that building at the end and don't move unless ordered, you said."

Persion snapped, "Surely you could see Blue Team came from an unexpected direction!"

"Don't get lippy with me," Zeax growled, "It's not my fault if your orders didn't allow me any tactical flexibility."

Persion ground his teeth in frustration, mostly because Zeax was right. Persion's first attempts at running a training drill had been a complete hash; he'd screwed up a simple engagement and was aware he was blaming others for his own mistakes. Zeax was a veteran warrior who'd fought as long as Persion and knew how to adapt to a changing battlezone, but the inexperienced Lieutenant hadn't given him the freedom to do so. Persion had tried to micromanage the engagement and been caught flatfooted. Zeax knew it as well as Persion did and wasn't about to swallow blame for someone else's mistake.

Persion had participated in countless drills under Captain Toran and tried to imagine what his commander would say in this scenario. Probably congratulate the winners then make some overblown speech about Brotherhood and duty. Persion drew in a breath and said, "Red team won, but the blue team shouldn't be ashamed. Just because you lost doesn't mean you were bad… er… I mean you weren't as good as red team but it's not a competition. Well, it is but…"

Thankfully Yones stepped in to say, "They got lucky, we'll thrash them next time Lieutenant!" Persion was glad the Primaris was present. Yones may have been new to the Chapter but he had been irrepressibly cheerful since they'd left Lujan II, just about the only one who was. Zeax had been dour as always, Gotram had been ceaseless in his efforts to cause trouble, Jediah hadn't been helpful or troublesome, seemingly content to sit back and watch events unfold. The real wildcard was Memnos, who had turned up at their embarkation and announced he'd be coming along too. Persion had quickly figured out the Apothecary had come along to keep an eye on him, though the specialist's prompting was making him look stupid.

It was at that point Memnos said, "Shouldn't we get cleaned up before we try again?"

Persion sighed, "Very well, go back to barracks and scrape this paint off. We'll meet again in three hours, next time we'll try bringing the Repulsor tanks into the fight and see how it develops."

Gotram snorted, "Why wait, I'm ready to go right now."

Persion glared at his irritating question and snapped, "I said three hours."

Gotram wasn't the least abashed as he said, "You go ahead; my Reivers will stay here and run drills."

Yones volunteered, "My Intercessors will stay too."

"No," Persion barked, "I've told you to go back to your chambers, stop questioning my orders!"

With that Persion left them behind as he stormed off, muttering under his breath about the insolence of his squads. He marched away from the training arena, storming past baffled serfs and leaving them dazed in his wake. Teams of Enginseers were forced to jump out his way, dropping tools in their haste to avoid being crushed while he glared foully at them. A party of workers dragging carts of laundry were taken by surprise, one of their loads bring tipped over as the Astartes smacked his hip against it, throwing it onto its side with his bulk as he strode by. Persion brooked none to delay his path for he was in a foul mood and had no patience for anyone else's stupid concerns.

He stormed back to the quarters set aside for the commanding officer and thumped his fist on the runepad to open the hatch. Inside was the standard officer's billet common to all Storm Herald ships, bunk, workbench, desk piled high with reports, armour and weapon stands. There was also a lone serf-equerry, labouring over the piles of paperwork on the desk. He looked up as Persion stomped in but hastily fled as he growled, "Get out." Persion was alone, but that meant he had no distractions from his thoughts. He didn't want to think about recent events so grabbed a sonic-lathe and applied it to his armour, scouring the paint marks from his plate with ultrasonic pulsations. Unfortunately that only bought him a few minutes of distraction so he threw the tool down, forgetting to bless the Machine Spirits for their service, and dumped himself into a reinforced chair at the desk. He sat there for almost a minute, face curling as he brooded on the voyage so far. Bitterly he gnawed on his botched leadership, wondering how Toran managed to get through a day without screaming at people for their idiocy.

Finally his patience wore thin and he leaned forward to thump his forehead loudly on the wooden desk, none too gently it must be noted. Minutes crawled past as he stewed in frustration, going over the last few days in his mind and each time blaming someone different. Yones, Gotram, Zeax, Jediah… each Brother had a turn at being cussed out in his head. His brooding was interrupted by a cough at the door and he lifted his head a fraction to see Memnos and Jediah standing at the still open hatch, their armour cleaned so well it gleamed. Persion jerked upright, shamed at the pathetic sight he must have presented as he spat, "What is it?!"

Memnos stepped within without being invited and remarked, "We thought you could do with a sympathetic ear."

Persion glanced at Jediah and lifted an eyebrow curiously but his savage Brother merely muttered, "It was his idea, not mine."

Memnos sat down in a chair across the desk and laced his fingers before him as he stared at the Lieutenant. Jediah for his part merely leaned against the workbench, drawing his Fractal Short-sword and examining the edge as if uninterested in the proceedings. Persion eyed the pair of them then said, "So… you're playing Furion this day."

Memnos looked puzzled as he inquired, "Excuse me?"

Persion sighed, "I've seen how this goes when Toran's in one of his brooding moods. Furion always cheers him up and sets him straight. Are you here to put me back on the righteous path?"

Memnos shook his head as he uttered, "Not my department, I deal with biological mysteries not spiritual counselling."

Persion sank back as he groaned, "Damnation, I could do with some supportive words after that screwup."

Memnos affirmed, "It certainly was a clusterfrak."

"You're not helping," Persion muttered resentfully, "I don't know how I got it so wrong. I did everything Toran does; he took to leadership like he was born to it."

Memnos sniffed, "Leadership is in Toran's blood, frankly you're not very good at it."

Persion glared at him as he spat, "For a healer you have a lousy bedside manner."

Memnos lifted his arm, exposing the Chains of Shame as he growled, "Lies led me to this. I will speak only harsh truths to you."

Persion sighed, "I could use some comforting lies right now. I keep asking: what would Toran do differently? Make some big melodramatic speech, reminded everybody of their Brotherhood and duty? I have to figure out what he would do to gain the trust of his Marines."

Jediah broke his silence to pronounce, "Wouldn't work, he has something you don't."

"A big red cloak?" Persion wondered aloud.

"Sincerity," Memnos rebuked him, "Toran may be a tad overdramatic but he means every word he says. The Marines sense that he believes in his principles with unwavering conviction, just as he believes in the men under his command. He looks at his squads and sees heroes, he thinks they are better than they know themselves to be, nobler and more selfless than our hearts truly are and they would die before disabusing him of his vision. Toran offered to let an untrusting Honour Guard cut out his heart and he willingly stood on a bridge against the fires of Chaos to save the innocent. He was punched into a coma by a Primarch, rather than let his Brothers confess to crimes we did not commit. A line-brother will overlook a few foibles for a Commander who lives and dies by the words he preaches."

"Are you saying I'm insincere?" Persion mused.

Memnos replied, "I think you're trying to be something you're not and the squads know it."

Persion sighed forlornly, "I've spent my whole life circumventing rules and bypassing protocols. Now I am the one who has to enforce them, I have no idea how to do that. It goes against every fibre of my being."

Memnos' eyes narrowed as he pointedly said, "You better find a way, or the Chapter Master will have you booted to the Deathwatch when we get back."

Persion frowned as understanding dawned and he accused, "He sent you to keep an eye on us?!"

Memnos replied candidly, "Of course he did."

Jediah looked up from his sword's edge as he asked, "What kind of spy tells everybody he's spying?"

Memnos replied, "One who is here to help you, not undermine you."

Persion pressed his hand to his forehead and said, "I'm starting to think the best thing is to get mission this over with as quickly as possible. Perhaps I should speak to the Navigator and ask if we can go any faster?"

"Bad idea," Jediah warned, "Never interrupt a Navigator in the Warp, unless you like wearing your skin inside out."

Persion groaned loudly, "I'll just have to make the best of it. At least Yones and his Intercessors are trying to be helpful. Zeax can be counted on to be Zeax. It's Gotram who's the real problem, if I can get the Reivers into line then maybe I can figure out the rest."

Memnos asked, "How do you intend to berate a bunch of Reivers into line?"

"I've got no idea," Persion sighed, "They don't listen to anyone but their own kind. Toran can't figure out how to get them to obey him, so how can I?"

Suddenly Jediah stood up and slid his Fractal Short-sword into its sheath. Persion looked over in concern and asked, "Where are you going?"

Jediah declared, "To handle them."

Persion frowned as he questioned, "Handle the Reivers, how?"

Jediah snorted, "Better you don't know."

Memnos questioned from his seat, "You're not going to do anything… regrettable are you?"

Jediah turned for the door and walked out leaving behind only a cryptic reply, "Trust me."

The pair were left alone, pondering what he had said and Persion mused, "What did he mean by that?"

Memnos replied, "I think it means he intends to take matters into his own hands."

Persion scoffed, "Jediah thinks he can handle the Reivers, all alone. How is that supposed to work?"

"He'll find a way," Memnos uttered with surety.

Persion snorted, "There's ten of them and one of him. Even Jediah can't be foolish enough to take them head-on. He must have some other plan."

Memnos stated grimly, "I think he plans to be Jediah."

Persion absorbed this statement for a moment, then his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. Instantly he was out of his chair and leaping to the doorframe. He slammed his palms onto either side of the frame and stuck his head out into the corridor as he yelled at the top of his voice, "Don't eat their brains!"