Mankind Protects

Cain

When I later realized that I had been named Warmaster alongside Primarch Lion El'Jonson, I was horrified. I knew this was my fault. I had spent my life building up a reputation as a hero and the Lion had taken advantage of that. He was a clever bastard. I knew that was a fact since he was a Primarch, the pinnacle of humanity, but it still pissed me off.

The truth of the Crusade horrified me. The fact that nearly half of the Dark Angels had turned traitor during the Heresy, was just asking for the Ordo Hereticus to get involved. El'Jonson had trust me with this secret and I was not about to reveal it. Not even to Amberly, wherever she was right now. But it was even more horrifying to think that a member of the Fallen had become a Daemon Prince and that same Daemon had released the Arch-Traitor Luther from The Rock. And that the Fallen was being united under him. The Fallen had to be stopped. The Imperium needed the stability the Seven had brought back to it. They were Heretics that must be stopped.

We were going to be going against Traitors that we were officially told were Black Legion. We were going against Traitors that were trained by the Lion's code of battle. It was a choice between fighting a Necron or a Tyranid. Both would kill you, but in different and excruciating ways.

"Would you like another mug of Caffeine, Sir?" I turned to see Jurgen, my aide, with a mug of fresh Caffeine in his hand. I had been so deep in thought that I hadn't even noticed his smell. Jurgen is what is known as a Blank, or a null, or a pariah. It is like he projects a field that nullified Psykers and their abilities. In short, he could not be read and Psyker abilities didn't seem to affect him or people around him. It was handy, plus he was probably the only person in the Galaxy I could really rely upon. I trusted him more than anyone else. He was the closest thing I had to a friend. Throne, he was my friend.

I often think of myself as a cold bastard, as someone who doesn't care for anyone but himself and just uses others in order to survive. But looking at Amberley's records on me, she seems to think differently of me. That I'm not a selfish bastard. I'm not sure I agree with her, but it is something to consider about myself.

The first planet we would face the Fallen on known as Centigrade. Not a very creative name, but not every planet could be named something like Catachan or Macragge. The Valhallan 597th would be the Vanguard and I would be with them. The Dark Angels and their Successor Chapters would be our backup.

Our information told us that there was a World Eater spawned Chaos group calling themselves the Red Death. They were typical worshippers of Khorne, damned be its name, that spread a taint of rage that consumed the planet and its inhabitants. Eventually, the people would die of an adrenaline overdose. Essentially, they would rage themselves to death.

When we made planetfall, we were met by a hail of bolter fire and cries of "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD". Three of our dropships were obliterated and two more were shot down. We were assisted by orbital bombardment from the Invincible Reason, but only enough that the bolter fire was put down. I raised my chainsword and my trusty lazpistol and did my duty as a Commissar and Warmaster of the Astra Militarum. "FOR THE EMPEROR!"

The Valhallan 597th were my first real command that I actually got attached to. I 'd chosen them simply for what I thought would be a cushy position, but they became part of my growing legend as 'Ciaphas Cain: Hero of the Imperium'. Colonel (Now deservedly General) Regina Kasteen had retired and Colonel Ruput Broklaw (formerly Major) had assumed command, but even then he was close to retirement and grooming his successor in Major Lustig. New faces had been recruited to the regiment and more would soon be joining. It amazed me that after all these years, the 597th still endured. I hope it will still be here after I am gone to join the God-Emperor in eternal rest. Throne, I still haven't chosen my successor to take my place. I wonder how it is that Jurgen is still here after all these years. Maybe his status as a Blank gave him extended longevity? Maybe our life forces were linked thanks to an event from one of our many adventures. Either way, I'm glad he is still here and... I'm trailing off. Sorry. Juvinat treatments can only hold off the ravages of old age for only so long.

I lead the men and women of the 597th forward through the Raging Cultists as they screamed for our blood. They would have to be satisfied with their own blood. I hate Khornate Cultists. Slaaneshi Cultists were sometimes appealing to look at when they weren't mutilating their bodies for their False God. Khornate Cultists wanted death and blood and would not stop screaming about it. As I fired with my Lazpistol, I saw the Chaos Marines in their dark red armor on the ridges, looking down upon us as their cannon-fodder attacked us. It is said that Khorne doesn't care where the blood comes from. Only that it is shed. What is it about the Chaos Gods that made them so appealing to worship. The God-Emperor simply asked us to die for the Imperium. It was a bit much for me, but it was still more understanding a request than asking me to change my body into some kind of mutant freak or to drink blood. Sorry, rambling.

As we charged, I could have sworn I saw another Chaos Marine in the background. My eyes aren't what they used to be, but I could swear that its armor was black. It ducked out of sight as soon as I spotted it so I couldn't say for certain.

Men and women died around me in as many numbers as the Cultists fell. These were proud warriors and I was equally proud to serve alongside them. Jurgen was obliterating Cultists left and right with his trusty Melta-Gun. He hardly went anywhere without it. I took as many as I could with Chainsword and Lazpistol. Finally, the Red Death attacked, their Bolters blazing, their Chainaxes whirring with anticipation of coming into contact with our flesh.

The Dark Angels made their first strike. Assault Marines fell from the skies, their Chainswords cleaving into the Red Death Marines. Some threw grenades while others took out several with a single shot for each with their bolt pistols. The Sergeants of each squad had a plasma pistol they used to obliterate their foes. I swear some of them went immediately for the headshot like it was a contest to see who could get the most. Even Astartes are not above making wagers.

My voxbead went off. It was the Lion. "Warmaster Cain, your Valhallans have done well in gaining ground. Now it is time. Let the 3rd Company have their fill."

I looked behind me to see advancing Primaris Dark Angel Intercessor Marines. I signaled to Lieutenant Barkley to fall back and regroup. He acknowledged and signaled to the squad leaders. It was time to see what the Primaris could do.

If anyone tells you Dark Angels are great fighters, they are underselling them. I have seen great warriors before. But the Dark Angels made combat almost an art form. They marched in formation, firing their bolters, never wasting a single shot. They made each bolt round count for a kill and they were precise. I lost count of how many times I saw a headshot to the point where I became bored with counting. When they got into close range, they drew their swords and fell into battle, delivering killing blow after killing blow with grace and efficiency. I was amazed and awed and I had seen Space Marines go into battle many times before.

I heard some of the squad members behind me grumble about their stolen glory. I was relieved. I knew my limits and dying at the hands of a blood crazed maniac who considered my blood as an appropriate token of worship was not on my bucket list. It was just above being eaten by a Tyranid and below dying in the 'passionate' embrace of a Slaaneshi Cultist. It was not an appealing way to go.

Jurgen's pungent aroma still managed to overcome the smell of blood as he dropped beside me as we took cover behind rocks, providing covering fire to the Primaris Marines as they advanced. "Caffeine, Commissar?" he asked as he produced a thermos. Jurgen could always be counted upon to have what I needed at the right time. Even if I didn't know I needed it.

As the Primaris advanced, I noticed something else on the cliffs above. The cultists were scurrying back and forth and I noted that they were carrying items that looked suspiciously like Melta Bombs. My eyes widened as it came to me what they were planning. I keyed my micro-bead to the Primaris Lieutenant leading the charge. "Brother Xedro! This is Commissar Cain! I have spotted Cultists on the cliffs above with explosives. I believe they are planning to blow the cliffside in order to cause an avalanche!" Of course, I wasn't really worried for the Marines. They were Astartes. They could handle snow. I believe. If those bombs went off, my men, and me and Jurgen, would be killed and I did not like dying. Dying was so final. You didn't have anything else to do afterwards.

Xedro halted as he looked up, spotting the Cultists. He didn't respond, but he did signal to his Battle-Brothers to open fire on the Cultists. Hopefully they wouldn't hit the explosives. The good news was that they did not. The bad news was that one of the Cultists was able to activate the explosives before a Mass-Reactive blasted him in the chest, causing his extremities to go flying in multiple directions.

The explosion that followed tore the mountain apart, causing snow and rocks to slide down the cliffside. Brother Xedro and his Primaris Brothers took out their swords and stuck them in the ground, kneeling before them. I realized what they were doing and turned to my men. "TAKE COVER! BEHIND THE ROCKS!" We ran for cover as the avalanche picked up speed. My men and I managed to get behind an immense boulder just before were were swept away by the snow. I sighed in relief as the rushing boom of snow and rocks surged past me. For what felt like an eternity, we waited until it finally stopped.

I checked to see if anyone from the squad was missing. Henderson, Gunnar, Corvin, McKenzie, and Winston were gone. My stomach knotted up as I imagined them crushed and suffocated beneath tons of snow. They were good soldiers. They deserved better than that. I turned to Jurgen to see if he had anymore caffeine when a horrible realization passed over me. Jurgen was gone. Whereas my aide and friend would normally be by my side, he was absent. Jurgen was devoted and loyal. He would never desert me, even if I was surrounded by Tyranids and Dark Eldar, he would come in, Meltagun melting everything in sight.

I called for him. No answer. I keyed the vox. No answer. My vox then chirped to life. Someone was trying to reach me. "Jurgen?!" I had hoped it was Jurgen. It was not.

"Commissar Cain, this is Supreme Grand Master Azrael of the Dark Angels. What happened?"

"The Cultists had explosives. They buried the Primaris Marines, though I think they're still alive. But we've lost men, including my aide." A green fist pushed its way out of the snow just to prove my point.

"My condolences, Commissar. That is no way for a soldier to go. Regroup with the rest of your men and head back to base camp. We will take it from here."

I knew he meant it. I had met many bastard Space Marines in my life, but I didn't think the same could be said of the Chapter Master of the Dark Angels. They were brusque and very anti-social, but heartless didn't seem to be completely devoid of morals, secretive as they were. But I was not going to leave until I had confirmed whether or not Jurgen was dead. Besides, we were in the 597th's true element. They could navigate this planet better than a fully armored Space Marine.

"Thank you for your condolences, Grand Master, but I need to confirm the fates of my men for myself. I will not leave them out here alone. Cain out." I turned to Barklay. "You can return to camp, but I need to find Jurgen. I will not ask any of you to come with me and to risk yourselves, but-" Barkley and his men stepped forward. I knew they would. It's always best to show compassion for your men by offering them the chance to preserve their own lives when you really want them to join you. If they feel you care, they will care as well. But I also suspected they would have come even if I didn't offer. Jurgen was just as much part of the Regiment as I was and the 597th doesn't abandon its own. I sheathed my Chainsword and saluted. "Lieutenant, have your men spread out. Search for any signs of life, no matter how small."

As we spread out, I noticed Brother Xedro and his men leaving. They had all survived, but spared no thought for us, just moving forwards on their mission. They really didn't need us after all. The Emperor's Angels could handle this mission alone. So why send us in the first place? I shook it from my mind and went off in search of Jurgen. "I'll find you, Jurgen. I promise."