Not all such conversations were to be quite as serious as that held between tecpriest Argo and Emile. Only but a few yards away, stood Commander Richell and her team. Including the weak one, Ervin. Still he played his part well enough thus far, without losing his sanity. Richell decided that perhaps he could be salvaged from his cowardice.
Ervin breathed heavily as he heaved the bag packed with the vox equipment and laid it onto the ground with a thud. Richell's two lieutenants pressed to not laugh at the sight.
Richell sighed. If Ervin survived all of this he might even be guard material. Perhaps.
She looked over towards the massive formation of troops within the room. She felt comfort in knowing they had such allies in this endeavor. But she could not help her gaze from its wander towards the door at the far end of the room. The one that the Mechanicus walkers crowded, their weapons outstretched outwards from it. That was the place they were to enter. But what was it? She rarely got the details of her assignments, and given her place as a member of an Inquisitors retinue, she knew better not to. No old ties to Viola would save her from knowing too much. This time though, something was different about this sight. It was… almost as if it called out to everyone in the room, imposed its presence as something holy, and beyond their understanding. She was not but a soldier…
Ervin sat beside his bag as he pulled on his las rifle. He looked over at Richell curiously as he wondered what she so intently stared at. He didn't dare ask however, and only mumbled to himself.
"At least we have a break…"
Richell shook away her curiosity, and focused now on her men. She had a mission to complete, and that was that.
"Rest for now. Once the operation starts, I expect all of you to push on even if you are on your dying breaths. Understood?"
Her lieutenants both stood in attention and saluted her. Ervin only found himself in an uncomfortable pause as Richell peered at him. With a kick from one of the lieutenants, he stood up and copied them. He gave her an adequate salute.
"Y-Yes mam…"
Richell smiled.
"Very well then. Shall we mingle with our new friends?"
Her lieutenants looked to one another with a grin on their faces.
"Yes mam."
Ervin on the other hand stayed quiet, though this time Richell did not reprimand him. She didn't want him to go anywhere.
"Good. Go see what you can find out. And don't go causing any trouble."
Lt. Jimmy only walked off with a salute, while Lt. John waved his hand in her direction.
"I'll keep an eye on Jimmy. You can trust us commander."
Richell grinned, faith in her men. They knew the penalties for being a problem.
"I better hope so. We got special eyes on us this time boys."
Lt. John only nodded as he wandered off after his compatriot. Only Ervin and Richell left besides their gear. What was she to do with him? That is what she had to find out. But to do that, she would have to learn more about this voidsman. From his behavior, she didn't expect much, but if she knew anything from commanding the guard, she learned to know her soldiers. So she could send them off to die with the most impact. The luckiest would survive to continue their service.
"Well then, voidsman. Might you tell me about yourself?"
Ervin looked up at her.
"R-Right mam…"
She waited for him to continue, but he only stared at her. He was just as daft as ever it seemed.
"Don't make me lose any respect I may give to you. Answer."
He nodded as he nearly fumbled the las gun in his hand.
"I was a… Schola reject. Passed over for the selection by my older brother. Left alone on the station I was born. I managed to train myself well enough to work with the voxes. Then I was recruited for the Inquisitors ship… that's all really."
A Schola reject? Why did those words remind Richell so much about her own past? For the first time in years, she showed a moment of pause in front of a lower rank. Ervin was smart enough to notice it, and even smarter not to say a word about it. Richell knew this of course, but it bothered her more how easily she was frozen by such a simple phrase.
"What station?"
Ervin swallowed as he tried to actively recall the name. It had been nearly four, maybe five, terran years since he had even thought of that dreadful place. He left it willingly and with nothing but contention in his heart. To live amongst the alleys and streets, constantly berated by the thugs that overran its lower corridors. He used to have contention, he used to…
Richell cleared her throat loud enough for him to hear.
"Ervin. Test my patience again, I promise you."
His eyes blinked as he found himself back in reality.
"H-Huh, I…"
He shook his head as he straightened out.
"I'm sorry. My mind wandered off. The name of the station was… I…"
Richell sighed.
"What?"
Ervin looked her in the eyes as he told her his answer. He had no intention of remembering that place any further than he already had. It was a dead memory to him.
"I don't remember. I forgot it."
Richell raised an eye as she looked at him. So he could have balls if he wanted to.
"Good then. You keep up that fire in your eyes and you will survive this. Maybe."
Ervin hardly expected such a reply. But, he was most surprised by her sentiment that perhaps, he wouldn't die. Something that he was still amazed he wasn't. Up till now, he had only himself to convince him that he would live. To hear another person say those words were nice.
"T-Thank you, commander."
Richell smirked as she sat down on one of the many barrels across from him.
"Call me Richell. You aren't one of my squad. You want to call me commander, you better prove to me that you are worth commanding. Got it?"
Ervin nodded.
"R-Right."
Richell looked over towards the forces of skiirtari and walkers again. Her interest swayed by a sudden and loud crack, one of the legs on a Dunecrawler busted open. Ervin noticed her interest, and his mouth got the better of his mind to stay silent.
"The Onegar Dunecrawlers aren't made for this sort of environment. It's a lot different in space than on a planet."
Richell looked over at him. He knew what they were called did he?
"Oh, and how would you know this, voidsman?"
Ervin cringed at that title. Voidsman. Though, the way she had said it did not seem as harsh as it had before. So he would take his victories where he got them. But, he could at least try and tell her his name.
"My name is Ervin. No last name, and no surname to pretty it with. And before I joined the ship, I had worked with the mechanicus on a previous mission. So I learned a lot from voxing in information for them."
Richell smiled.
"Well then, Ervin, perhaps you'll be more useful after all. And I thought that Lady Viola only wanted you dead when she assigned you with us."
Ervin couldn't tell if that last part was serious or not. Knowing the Inquitor he didn't doubt it. But, either way, he was more relieved than before.
"I'll do my best."
Richell crossed her legs and stretched her arms, strained from holding her plasma pistol.
"That's the spirit. There isn't any trying in my outfit. You either get it done or you get killed trying. Got it?"
Ervin nodded.
"Got it."
Richell found it interesting that he had worked with the mechanicus before. While she had meant what she told him about Viola intending on his death, she also knew that Viola wouldn't have sent him along just to die given the current situation. This was an important enough mission that Emile and Eli were sent here. Still, to have worked with the mechanicus before Ervin was recruited into Violas service could only mean so many things. He was likely saved from a purge of some sort. Especially since the Mechanicus rarely liked to acknowledge they needed help from time to time from regular meatbags.
She waved a hand his direction as she rested her elbow on her knee. Her chin rested on-top of her palm as she leaned toward him.
"So then, how exactly did you end up as a voidsman aboard the ship?"
Ervin frowned, but he knew best not to stall his answer.
"There was a small mechanicus ship that had crashed into our station, and as one of the vox casters I had to provide communications for them between the stations security and them. It went on like that for at least a year, I think it was. Then when they did whatever they had to do they had to clean up loose ends. I just happened to be lucky enough to be recognized as above average to one of the Lady Inquisitors officers. While the other vox casters were hauled off to a quiet room, I was pulled away and taken aboard the ship where I apprenticed under him. Lucky for me too. Without him, I might never have had the chance to keep looking for my…"
Ervin stopped as he realized his tongue had run away from him again. Dammit! Why did he let that slip? Richell on the other hand felt almost, no, she did feel as if she understood. She miraculously had so much in common with him. As much as they clearly turned out different from one another. Not that she would ever admit to it. Before she was picked up by Viola, she and her men were sent to die. To waste their lives against the enemy for no reason other than to lower the mouths the division needed to feed. Her regiment just happened to draw the short stick, and off they went sure as 'ell to not come back again. But, at the last moment she and her men were recognized by Viola. Her search for a long lost friend… a family member, was over. For a sister. A secret she even kept away from the Emperors own angel of death, Emile, when he asked her about her relation to Viola. Not that it mattered to anyone but her.
Her own home world too was a horrific place. The daughter of a prostitute. Thrown out from home and abandoned with her little sister to take care of. Certainly they were the daughters of an Imperial guard officer, but they never even knew his name. They only carried around the badge that labeled him such, the payment he gave to their mother. As they grew older Viola began to show promise, as they grew into young gangers. Viola killed an entire cult in the darkness of their hive world, and the Inquisitor who watched from the shadows saw much worth in her. All she needed was an excuse to whisk her away to their 'feckin hell of a school, and when she discovered that she had the lineage of an officer, she took her away. Richell tried to stop it, but she was beaten and thrown to the side like garbage. When she tried to plead her worth to join her sister, she was spat on and called worthless. By some stroke of luck, she found herself picked up by the guardsmen stationed on her world, and she strove to join them and rise to the highest rank she could. She did, and she became a commander, respected by all of her soldiers and nothing but feared by her enemies.
Only to end up as some weakling governors sacrificial lambs to satiate the rest of her divisions resource problems. Yet, fate and the Emperor had a way, and she found herself in the employ of her sister. Not that she remembered her, or wouldn't hesitate to kill her if it came to it, but at least, they were together once again.
She held back the memories as they continued to flood into her mind as she looked at Ervin who remained silent through her pause.
"Who are you looking for?"
Ervin knew he had been found out. He could have tried to deny it, say he didn't know what she talked about, but he wouldn't. It was foolish anyway.
"My brother."
Richell only laughed at his response, not intentionally, but she did. That sealed the tragedy they both shared was nothing more than common at best! Ha! How the cruel world, this wretched universe, would laugh. Ervin at first saw it as an insult to himself, but his mind changed as Richell smiled at him, warmly and with a hint of compassion he would never have expected.
"You know Ervin, you and I are not very different after all. Would you sit here with me, and talk? About anything would be fine."
Ervin nodded, relieved and perhaps even comforted by her words. He didn't see her as an imposing figure in that moment, and saw her as a person. Relaxed for the first time in this entire mad venture he found himself in. Richell too, relaxed as she and Ervin began to talk about their lives, their service to their Inquisitor, and soon about whatever came to their minds. Both saw something of themselves in the other, and both for the first time in years, simply enjoyed another person's company. Not that they assumed the other would live to see to the end of it.
Just across the room, two others shared a different conversation. One that was entirely serious with hints of scorn. Emile had nearly had it with the techpriest in front of him. He was mad. They would simply go through the vault upon its opening, and immediately secure the inside of the ship. How it would open he refused to say. There was no mention of rituals, or of the sacred practices he had expected would be all but demanded. No, it was as precise and as cold as he would have been. Except there also seemed to be some compassion behind it that held the skiitari and other troops with under in high regard. Likely, he assumed they were too high quality of a resource to waste. He would have expected much more precaution from a priest of the mechanicus on the side of the machines themselves. Especially from a dark age vessel.
Then again, everything about this Argo had made it clear that anywhere else and he would have been considered a heretic. This group of mechanicus were no doubt outliers to the main cult, and a very cautious one at that. Regardless, Emile had no choice but to accept the techpriest's plan. A plan that had him and those brought from Violas ship to the forefront as body shields. It did not matter in the end how he felt, as long as the mission was a success. And he had the suspicion that perhaps all of the current assets the Mechanicus had here were not the only ones. Things he would rather keep confined to the back when he and his detachment were gone. It was the way of the Mechanicus after all…
Emile grunted from underneath his helmet as he peered down at Vargo, huddled comfortably behind a metal table. His legs crossed over one another as he carelessly teetered his chair on its edge. A glass of some liquid in his hands as the techpriest gleefully swished it around in his hand.
"You seem displeased, Space Marine. Did I not make the mechanizations of my plan clear?"
Emile set his hand onto the table, with enough force that the metal began to bend underneath his very grip.
"Do not chastise me, techpriest. You and I both understand the reality of your plan."
Argo dumped the liquid onto the floor.
"Oh? I ran several dozen simulations within my core processing unit. This has the highest chance of survival and of success."
Emily removed his hand.
"For your forces, correct?"
Argo grinned.
"Oh, you do catch on quick. Wouldn't you do the same, other way around? I never have been so fond of you illustrious Angels of Death. Such blunt instruments as you are best used in grander wars and then sealed away…"
Emile knew that this Argo wished to anguish him with such remarks, but he knew better than to let himself be bothered by the petty taunts of a foolish priest. Though he would have to ensure that such interactions were limited with his much more impulsive brother Eli. Regardless, he would have to prove to this Argo the reality of his situation. And to do so, he only needed to say a few words.
"Vargo, might I inquire where you will be during the operation?"
Vargos face slid into a grimace.
"Ah, there you go. Do you suggest I be with you and your team up front?"
Emile only started to walk away.
"Be certain that you do, lest I make a report to higher powers than you."
Argo smashed the glass in his hand as the pieces fell to the floor.
"Of course. As you wish, noble space marine. We leave within the hour-"
A loud crash and several booms rocked the entire room. A loud creak that only grew in intensity came from the end of the room where the vault began to putter open. It was not pried, nor was it interfaced with, and none of its systems had seemed to be online. No, they opened on their own, as if by the will of something else. Someone else.
Argo stood immediately from his seat as he began to issue orders to everyone around him. In such a quick and coded flow of words that only those who were trained to understand would. Emile was cautious as he approached his brother Eli. Stood in front of all the forces that they had arrived with, Richells team up front with all the Stormtroopers ranked behind.
Eli held up his bolter cautiously, uneasy as it was being within a hulk again.
"Emile, what's going on? Did they open the door?"
Emile held his hand firmly around the guard of his bolter, and another around the grip by its trigger. This was not planned, and that was more than apparent by the immediate call to arms that all of the surrounding forces found themselves in. All of the Dunestriders began to move as their four legs pushed the main frame off of the ground. The cannon that was mounted on its side twitching as if just awakened, and the Skiitari soldier who was in the port above checked the heavy stubber mounted before him. The floating Skorpius Dunerider transports began to move in a flurry and zoomed along a set path towards the vault door.
Emile turned to face it as well and answered his brother's question. Though he was certain he already knew it as well.
"No, Eli, I'm afraid not. Be prepared, all of you! We know not what is behind that door. Do not underestimate whatever it is we may come across."
He heard his reply in unison.
"Yes my liege!"
The circular door before them creaked ever so slightly open. A large streak down its center that began to expand as dust and broken debris fell from the ceiling from the sheer magnitude. The room had stopped its terrible tremble, and now all only gazed at the strange majesty that was this relic before them. But there was not darkness from the other side, no, it was light. By the time the door had opened up to half its height, all could clearly see within. Nothing but a perfectly preserved hallway stood before them, grand in nature. It's walls filled with strange remembrances of a bygone era, much like what a planetary governor's citadel would resemble. Massive trees were grown, in incredibly good health, in increments along the center. Several large illustrations of people long past lined along the walls, as if preserved eternally. Benches, made out of some metal material lined along the edges of the grand hall, and the floor was made of a glorious white tile that shined in the light. This truly was an ancient sight to behold, for no ship any among those present, had ever seen before. That a ship from the Dark Age would be found in such preservation was nigh unthinkable. No ship in the Imperium would waste such resources into presentation like this, aboard any vessel, not when they could be maximized for war. Gutted of any semblance of comfort and replaced with the brutal efficiency of dark halls and compacted space. Not even those chambers reserved for those of high command would have such a pristine living space, and this was all that was before them. Not a sound to be heard anywhere among them as all did nothing but stare. Even the two SpaceMarines, Eli and Emile, were shocked in awe at what they saw. How had this place come to be so well preserved? So well cared for? In such a place as this hulk, this writhing mass of metal, wire and death.
None more wanted to understand than those of the Mechanicus gathered around. Oh, it was as if seeing the great Omnisiah it-self reflected in but this simple view. The techpriest Argo had nearly felt a surge of tears, such things that should have been long ago removed, as he stared into its brilliance. No, not anyone could simply treat this holy halls before them. No one! He had intended upon sending in his forces as soon as it opened, but he never would have assumed such glory behind. It truly was a vault, a fountain of endless knowledge long lost before them, and he would not have it desecrated. No!
He made his way towards the front of his forces, of all those present and rested at the very foothold of the barrier between the hulk and the ship. His human heart beat, and beat and beat in its excitement as he neared it so!
"This… this is…"
He nearly fell to his knees in mere respect, but his servo arms managed to keep him held high. He had to be the extension of his Magos command, and he knew his mission well. But he doubted that even the Magos himself would have foreseen this. No, in truth, only the Magos and those he deemed worthy would be allowed to enter. And only them. Not even he would dare tread on such ground.
"This is magnificent! Truly, the Omnisiah has blessed us on this day! No one is to step foot within this chamber. No one! We contact the Magos immediately!"
Emile was about to press onto his Vox to contact Viola, but he was halted. Everyone was halted by the curdling scratches and cries that soon followed. Emile knew all too well the horrific sound that it was, the bellows of fore-coming death and violence that would soon befall them. Had they waited for this moment? No one knew, and Emile would not try to understand the mechanization of those foul and repugnant monsters. It was the cries of Tyranids, as they crept their way along the underbelly of the Hulk they resided within. This expedition was within the reach of an uncaring monster whose maw would do everything in its power to consume them. To consume everything indiscriminately.
He held up his bolter in preparation for attack. His brother did the same, knowing too the reality of what they were to face. Richell's soldiers held fast, even the nearly faint Ervin, whom only managed to barely maintain his sanity. Fear a foreign and uncertain concept to the Stormtroopers that surrounded them, but even they felt an imminent threat, and all were wary. The forces of the Mechanicus, and those of the Guard detachment with them were no different. All were ready to fight to the death should it be required, and they would do so willingly.
Vargos was the only among them all to speak, and waved his arms about in an uncanny show of emotion. He would not let it fall… this was their prize! Their gift!
"Do not let a single xeno enter this very chamber! Burn it all if you must! Annihilate every chamber, every corridor, every room and every vent! Blast this hulk to dust, ground its metal to nothing and leave nothing unturned! Give your life en-mass to protect this chamber! Suffer not the Xeno to live! Suffer not the monster to spread its taint to this unclaimed relic of mankind! Kill them all! Kill them all!"
In Regard to Ambition
The grim-dark universe of the 41st millennia is a cruel and unforgiving one. Here death and stagnation run rampant, war and destruction but the common reality to many. Yet even in these times many have ambitions they hope to achieve. Such powerful driving forces, ambitions are, which can and will force people into doing anything to attain them. Whether it be stoop to any low, climb the highest of highs, or stay somewhere in-between. But I will not tell you how to feel of these who you see here in this tale. Hate, like, sympathize or pity them as much as it pleases you. It's a good thing that you can choose how you view them. They will be who they will be, and I will not defend any terrible actions they take. But I ask this; what lengths will anyone go for their ambitions? Can Ambitions change someone, make them better or worse than before? Does chasing your ambitions make anyone good or bad? Certainly some have ambitions of revenge or murder, but on the other hand some simply strive for a comfortable life or for those they cherish to be secure. Do such things even matter in a setting like Warhammer 40000, where lives are but blips on a cosmic scale, where so few are granted the ability to pursue what they desire? Everyone in this story has ambitions of some sort, and you will and have seen how they go about achieving them. I hope that this story makes you think about such things as ambition, and helps you come to your own understanding of it. Though this is all the ramblings of my thoughts, perhaps you see it differently, and that's ok. Everyone has their own way of seeing things, and I'm interested to hear others take on this. But if not, that's fine as well.
Thank you for reading thus far, truly.
