The Prisoner of Commorragh

I don't know how long I had been there. When I entered the Warp, time seemed to blend together. Days turned into months which turned into weeks and then into years. I... I don't remember how I got to the city. It isn't in the Warp itself. It feels like... something else between realities. The last thing I remembered was chasing an Eldar Lord's ship into the Warp and then... nothing. Darkness had overtaken me. And then I woke up

I was on a table. A bright light was shining in my face and my wrists and ankles were tied down with barbed wire. I could not move nor could I break them, no matter how hard I tried. The wires cut into my skin with every exertion of effort, blood dripping into little grooves on the table and dripping off. I healed quickly of course, but the pain... was something else. I was used to pain, but this... it cut deep into my very soul. I could hear breathing in the room. Someone was here. I waited for them to announce themselves for what felt like hours. Finally, I called out.

"WHO ARE YOU?!" My voice was hoarse and dry, as if I was dehydrated. I heard the shuffling of feet coming towards me. Then I finally smelled it. The stink of rotted flesh. The breathing was ragged and the smell of the breath was worse than the rotted flesh. As if they had eaten and consumed spoiled milk and shit in addition to rotted flesh. Then the face leaned over me. It was one of the most hideous things I had ever seen in my life. It looked like someone had taken a skull and draped dried skin over it, suturing it into the skull itself. The eyes did not match one another. One was bright green and the other was black as the starless void. The teeth were sharpened and yellowed. The thing, which I later learned was a Haemonculus, began to poke and prod me with multiple clawed hands. The thing had four arms on its disgusting carcass of a body. Then it smiled and spoke to me in a wheezing voice.

"You are strong, Mon-Keigh. Very strong. Lord Victrious will be pleased to have you in his service."

I spat in his face, my acid saliva burning a ragged hole in his cheek. He just smiled at me. "Now that wasn't very nice. You are lucky that I disconnected my pain receptors long ago or I would be in pain and unable to keep you alive." He walked away from the table and I turned my head to look at him. He was hunched over, his extra two arms were stitched onto his back, poking out of holes in his cloak, which I could definitely confirm was made from human skin. He was deep in pensive thought. "Perhaps I should poison the wires as punishment? No, no. Lord Victrious said that you were to be preserved and kept strong and I have done that. One must not disobey the master, Mon-Keigh, if that one wants to live to fight in the Pits."

I growled at him. "I do not serve Xenos filth like you or your master! And I am not a "Mon-Keigh!" I tried to break free of my restraints, but to no avail.

"No, no, no, Mon-Keigh," the flesh-smith said, stroking my long black hair with its disgusting, distended fingers. It had seven on each hand and I am sure one of those seven was an extra thumb. Why it would do this to itself I had no idea. I still don't care to find out. "You won't break free. We have you drugged and sedated. You are as weak as a feline. Your body may be able to process it faster, but we have that covered." He gestured to several IV drips that had been inserted into my veins.

"You will be a great boon to the Master, Mon-Keigh. Congratulations." He inserted something into one of the bags. "Get some rest, Mon-Keigh. Enjoy your rest." Darkness took me and I fell out of sight and mind.

When I awoke, I was in a cage suspended in the air, spikes surrounding me so I could not move an inch if I didn't want to be impaled. I looked around the room I was in. I was in a gigantic hallway surrounded by cages. Each with a person in them. I could see a few Xenos as well. Orks, Eldar, and even a few Tau. The majority of them were humans though. The cattle for the slaughter pens.

"You are bigger than most of the other Mon-Keigh," a voice next to me said. I turned my head to see an Eldar youth in the cage beside mine. "They must have injected enough tranquilizers in you to kill a normal human. But you still live. You must be special to Victrious."

"Who are you?"

"A slave. Sold to pay off a debt. I'm going to be in the arena just like you. Hope you live through it, Mon-Keigh."

"I am not a Mon-Keigh!"

"Then who are you?"

I glowered at the Eldar. "My name is Jaghatai Khan of the White Scars! I slaughtered your kind for years. Do not take my situation for weakness. And you did not answer my question. Who are you?"

The Eldar sighed. "Vect. My name is Vect. Not that it matters. I'm probably going to die in the arena tomorrow along with you."

"I am not going to die. I have too much to do."

"Like what?"

"I need to get home. I have some things to sort out with my brothers."

Vect smiled at me and leaned against one of the spikes. "Well, good luck with that, Khan."

They didn't give me any armor. Only a blade. It was about the same length and style as my Dao Blade. I gave it a twirl in my hands. It would do. Vect had a pair of carving knives that looked like they were coated in poison. He handled them well. A bit too well. A son of this society's equivalent of a noble? One who had been trained? Didn't matter. If he could fight then he could be useful. Xenos or not.

"I'll have to keep an eye on him though," I thought. "We may be fellow slaves, but that does not mean we will look out for each other. In this place it is every man for himself."

I looked up to the stands as we entered the arena. What struck me about these Eldar is how different they really were outside of their armor compared to others I had fought in the past. Whereas many of the Eldar I had slain were those that carried themselves with an unearned air of nobility and arrogant superiority, these seemed equally as arrogant, but they were more... loose with themselves. They saw themselves as superior, but they reveled in the bloodshed and violence. Many had modified their bodies to sickening degrees to the point where it felt like the goal was to feel pain and enjoy it. Many of the females had metal hair clips that pulled their hair in so tight that it seemed like the clips were digging into their skin. The men dressed about as fancy as the women. They glared at me and the other slaves with bloodlust. They wanted to see us die. It was what they lived for.

As I looked around the arena, I saw him. Victrious, my new "owner" who had acquired me for the purpose of watching me die. Tall and thin with long white hair, pale skin, and violet eyes that peered out from behind an ornate mask. He wore robes of regal purple with a pistol and saber at his side. I sighed. I would eventually have his head in my hands. The fact that I am telling you this story is proof enough of that. And I would be laughing while I did it.

"My friends," Victrious called through a Xenos equivalent of a Vox Emitter. "We have a new fighter for our entertainment. One of the many Mon-Keigh Primarchs that enjoyed slaughtering us and our brethren! I give to you, my friends, JAGHATAI KHAN!" The crowd cheered, booed and hissed at me, throwing many objects at me. Some of it food, others sharp objects. I let them hit. I'd had worse hit me. I smiled up at Victrious, baring my teeth in a grin. I think it had the proper effect. This was a being who was used to the sight of fear and subservience in his slaves. For any being to show defiance or readiness ruined the image of power he'd built up. They expected me to die. I would rob them of that hope.

Victrious grinned underneath his mask. He raised his hands. "Let the games begin!" Gates all around the arena opened and my opponents emerged. Carnodons that had been heavily modified, their claws and tusks replaced with metal enhancements. Their muscles had been enhanced as well, making them nearly half my height. They really did want to see death. The slaves cowering behind me cried out in terror and turned to run, the smell of urine following many of them. Vect was the only one who stood by me. Him and, surprisingly, an Ork. It looked up at me and grinned. And then... it spoke.

I had never truly heard an Ork speak Gothic before. It was horrifying. In every encounter I had with an Ork, they had always just roared and screamed. They were little more than animals. But this one could speak the language. Roughly of course, but the meaning was there.

"You... me... Gonna foight! No die, Humie!"

It had challenged me. I grinned and squared my shoulders and adopted a ready stance.

"You smile a lot, Khan," Vect said as the Carnodons charged us. "Most of your kind just growl and grimace. Like they don't take pleasure in the fight. But you? You enjoy this."

I nodded. "My Legion believes in reveling in battle. To laugh and smile as we kill our enemies. It gives us more to put into the fight. We strike hard and fast and we are always laughing when we make the kill." The first Carnodon leaped at me, claws bared. "I am very excited. I haven't been in a long time." The Carnodon was nearly on me when I struck first. Its head went flying over my head, its body missing me as I sidestepped it. I charged forward to meet the next one. Vect ducked low and stabbed his knives into the throat of the Carnodon that had charged him. The Ork brought its axe down upon its Carnodon's head, splitting it in two. It roared in happiness as it charged for more blood.

I had missed just letting loose. Strategy and tactics had their place in war, but hand to hand fighting is where joy was truly felt. I had hoped my sons remembered that while I was gone. I was glad to know they had when I returned.

As the fight went on, I felt the thrill wane. These weren't foes that I could take lasting pleasure in killing. They were animals. Pure and simple. The Ork may give a good fight, but only briefly. Vect, however... As I watched him fight, my impression of him grew from that of a spoiled rich boy to a deadly opponent. He was fast on his feet. He didn't stay to fight one singular opponent. He would attack one and move onto another. His movements were fluid and lacked spontaneity. He had a strategic mind. He knew how to fight and he knew how to plan. His knives were definitely coated in poison. Each Carnodon he cut began to show signs of fatigue. My body was able to process and reject poisons so if he attacked me, it probably wouldn't be fatal. But it would slow me down. Perhaps long enough for him to finish me if the poison could stop my blood from clotting and my wounds from closing. He was dangerous.

As I finished the last of them, I looked up at Victrious and smiled. I held my arms out wide and roared out. "ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED? IS THIS ALL YOU CAN SEND ME?" The crowd went silent and stared at me. Good. I had their attention. "I AM JAGHATAI KHAN, PRIMARCH OF THE WHITE SCARS! I HAVE SLAUGHTERED YOUR KIND BEFORE! YOUR KINFOLK DIED WELL ENOUGH, BUT THEY STILL GAVE ME A SMALL CHALLENGE! I HAVE FOUGHT WORSE THAN THESE MONSTERS AND THEY WERE NOTHING TO ME! HARDLY A CHALLENGE! YOU WANT ME DEAD THEN YOU BETTER SEND ME YOUR BEST!" Then I saw the mask he wore underneath his physical one crack. Victrious bared his teeth, which had been sharpened, in rage as he glowered at me. His eyes suddenly darted at Vect and the hatred he'd shown me intensified. I looked at Vect who smiled up at Victrious. There was a story there. And I had an idea what it was.

Vect's look of hatred vanished as he adopted his secondary mask again. "A wonderful show from the Primarch Jaghatai Khan! Come my friends! Cheer for our new Champion!" Slowly, the crowd began to cheer. I'd never had Xenos cheer for me, even if it was forced. It sickened me. Victrious may have been their tyrant, but these were the clear cut elite of this society. They enjoyed toying with people like those on Chogoris. I looked back to see the slaves who had run away had either been devoured or cut down by gunfire. If they weren't going to play the game then they were useless.

"This Mon-Keigh deserves all the pleasures we can give him and his fellow battle-brothers! He wants battle then he shall have it!" I bristled at that. Vect and the Ork were no brothers of mine. "Feed them! Clothe them! Treat them as the best deserve!"

I was soon lead away with Vect and the Ork, who later told me his name was Gorignak, in tow. I was shown to an apartment of my own. I was bathed, clothed, and fed. Then I was offered my pick of some of their women. I refused and sent them away. I am not as hardheaded as my brothers, but I would be damned if I would copulate with Xenos. Not even humans interest me, male or female. Fighting is what I did and it is what I lived for.

I was soon visited by Vect who had been granted his own apartments. He smiled up at me. "Gorignak has torn his apartments apart. Doesn't like them. Too fancy he said. Wants to be back in the dungeon with fresh meat. Said they ruined his by cooking it. How do you like yours? Bet you don't have these on Chogoris."

I glared at him. "The fight was never meant for me. It was meant to kill you. I was just the distraction to draw the crowds in. Why does Victrious want you dead? You his son? His brother?"

Vect grinned up at me. "I am indeed Victrious' brother. His bastard-born half brother to be precise. We share the same father, but not the same mother. She was one of our father's whores from the streets. Despite being a bastard, I am seen as a threat to Victrious' future as an Archon of our father's Kabal. Soon as my father died of what can be considered 'natural causes' around here I was sent to the dungeons to be put in the arena so I could die publicly as an example."

"How many fights have you been in so far?"

"Seven. This was my eighth." His eyes closed as his smile became more... genuine. "I must thank you, by the way. I wasn't expecting Carnodons today. Every time I survive, my brother gets more and more furious and it makes me so happy. So thank you, my friend."

My glare intensified at that word. "We are not friends. I do not plan to stay here long."

"A shame. You really are quite popular. And I saw the looks some of the ladies were giving you. You are quite big so I bet they were wondering if... every part of you is big. Or did your Emperor eliminate the need for those."

I actually felt myself blush. "That is none of your business, Xenos!"

"Vect, Khan old boy. Please. Call me Vect." He wandered to the window and stared out at the dingy darkness of the city. "Like it or not, you and I are stuck together. I was already quite popular in the ring, but you just boosted my popularity. Victrious is going to throw everything he has at us to kill me. And you as well." He drank his wine and threw it out the window. "Commorragh is a city of traitors, killers, and schemers. Everyone is out to get each other. Everyone is out for themselves here. But you? You are at least someone who fights for more than himself. I can use that."

"For what?"

Vect chuckled. "I have plans, Khan. I am not going to be a bastard born forever. I have ambition. I have dreams. And I know you do as well. You want out? Swallow your Mon-Keigh pride and work with me. You'll be out of here in no time at all."

I knew he was right. I hated to admit it, but he was right. I needed allies. I would have to do much during the long years I spent in Commorragh, but I would eventually get out. I would be free. My deeds in Commorragh have more than likely been co-opted by Vect by now, my place in his rise to power downplayed or suppressed altogether. Don't take that to mean he had no intelligence or drive of his own. In all my centuries of life, my sons, I have never met a being more despicable or more intelligent than Asdrubael Vect. And that is truth. How I escaped is for another day, but I can tell you that I did not escape unscarred or unmarked. I will see Vect again one day and I can promise you all that it will end with one or both of us dead.

Author's note: Hot damn, I have been updating more than I thought I would! Work has been tough, but I have one more extra day work week coming up and then it will be my last normal work week before vacation. I've been getting enough sleep and eating better too.

Anyways... Jaghatai Khan! If I had to say for certain, I would say that he is my second favorite Primarch after Vulkan. I love the White Scars books in the Horus Heresy and when I see one on sale, I have to get another one. Really sucks how they and the Raven Guard don't get as many stories as the Fists or Ultramarines. I hope I got Vect right or at least the kind of characterization that would lead to him becoming the big man of Commorragh. Not sure if I'll get to how Jaghatai escaped, but it could happen. For now, it's time to work on the story that many fans of the Fists have been waiting for: The story of how Rogal Dorn came back.

Love to you all and have a Happy Holiday!