The Number of the ED
"Woe
to you, Oh Earth and Sea, for the Devil sends the Beast
with wrath, because he knows the time is short...
Let him who hath understanding reckon the number of the Beast
for it is a human number, its number is six hundred and sixty six."
--Book of Revelations Ch. XIII v. 18
Charleston carefully closed the door as he got
home to McKenzie. The psyker had very good hearing, and Charleston could bet he
didn't want it damaged further. Battles were noisy, that Charleston knew very
well. Furthermore, there was an old lady upstairs to McKenzie's apartment, and
she used to bang a broomstick in the floor when they got too noisy, especially
when McKenzie played his Iron Maiden records. Charleston liked some of the
Iron's music, but he preferred Zeppelin.
"G'day Ed." McKenzie said as Charleston poked his head into
McKenzie's kitchen. "Knew you were coming."
"You always do. So, why'd ya call?" Charleston asked.
"I thought we could go down to the pub, take a glass or two. Talk
memories."
Charleston thought on this for a moment and then answered:
"Okay, but'll Eddie come?"
"No, he said he was busy with something, didn't state what."
McKenzie was obviously picking out dishes from the dishwasher. Charleston
knew he was the butterfingers concerning kitchenware, so he told McKenzie he
would wait for him at the door.
Fifteen minutes later, the two were sitting in
the pub on St. John's Street, having their first beer. Charleston watched as
McKenzie fooled yet another man with his coin trick. Charleston smiled to
himself. He knew McKenzie never brought money to pay his drinks with, but he
always seemed to have it when he had to pay. It was witchery, Charleston knew
it, but he also knew that daemons weren't here, so McKenzie was safe from their
malignant influence.
"So Ed," McKenzie said, turning to him. "What are you
thinking about?"
"You tell me." Charleston replied.
McKenzie looked puzzled and uttered a quiet "oh" and looked
concentrated for a moment. He looked up after a few seconds and turned to
Charleston.
"You're thinking about the Yarricks, right?" McKenzie asked.
"Righto. More precisely about Seb."
"Sebastian?" McKenzie said and scratched his chin. He came to
think that he should've shaved before he'd gone down to the pub, but he didn't
care so much. "He was a hero. Talk about a legend reborn..."
"I thought Rolf was the legend reborn?" Charleston said,
confused.
"Oh, he was, but he was also half-breed, Sebastian wasn't."
"I still recall the day Seb graduated from the Commissariat, when
he'd earned his Ordo Imperialis and Commissarial Badge. What a day. I still
recall it clearly."
"I still recall his answer to your question if he remembered
you."
Charleston looked shocked and turned to McKenzie.
"He wasn't more than a baby when he met me the first time, on
Armageddon. I thought he wouldn't remember me!"
"Well he did. To quote: 'Of course I remember you, Charleston! Such
a stink as that of your feet, Lieutenant, can only be forgotten with therapy!'.
I laugh at it still!"
Charleston got a sour face as McKenzie laughed out loud at this. Other
people in the pub wondered what was happening at the counter. When they saw the
two huge men, they decided not to pay too much attention to it. They had after
all come on motorcycles, big ones. And the smaller, lankier fella had an orange
tattoo on his left temple.
McKenzie suddenly stopped laughing, a streak of concern going across his
face. He looked directly at Charleston, and this made the giant man reel away a
bit.
"Ed, you've never told me what happened when you and Sebastian were
left alone to fight both Orks and Berzerkers on Armageddon. Why haven't
you?"
"Because it was the worst war ever. Sebastian had nightmares from
that year on, every night! I'd rather not talk about it."
"Ed, please, I want to know. Either you tell me, or I'll probe you
for the information."
Charleston's eyes turned hard to McKenzie at this.
"Y'know I hate it when you do so!"
"Then tell me"
Charleston sighed and began:
"It all began about ten, maybe twelve, years before the Siege. My
8th Company had been stationed on Armageddon for roughly a hundred years, or as
long as the von Strab's had held the power as Governors of Armageddon. Seb was
stationed there on one last mission before his retirement, to reform one of the
Armageddon Steel Legions. It all began that fateful day known as the day of the
Feast of the Emperor's Ascension..."
Armageddon, 12 years before the Siege and
Fall of the Imperium of Mankind, day of the Feast
Sebastian Yarrick was woken by a wet nose that puffed him in his face. He
opened one eye and looked at his dog, Cerberus. Sebastian'd had Cerberus since
the day he'd graduated as Commissar. He'd gotten him as a pup, and that was
nearly forty five years ago. Cerberus was a wolfhound, native to Callidus and
from a race renowned for it longevity.
Sebastian opened his other eye and sat up in his bed. He stretched out to
his full one metre seventy before he scratched his old friend behind his ear.
"This is the Day, right Cerberus?" Sebastian said as Cerberus
tried to lick him as thanks.
He got up and got dressed in his finest dress uniform. This was a great
day for celebrating, and that meant suave clothing. Seb dressed himself in the
black highwaisted dress breeches and dress jacket of the Commissariat, tied his
Ordo Imperialis around his waist and went into the bathroom to shave and fix
his hair somewhat. Sebastian had earned his grandfather's genes concerning his
hair, and he had to cut it every six weeks or so. He always cut it in a
buzz-cut, much like Charleston's, but a little longer, but his hair, which was
steel-grey for the record, seemed to want to grow into a hairstyle that made
him look as his grandfather. Sebastian hated it. Unlike his grandfather, Seb
had turned an old man just a few years ago. He'd noticed it one morning when
his legs didn't want to get out of bed. Charleston had joked about it and said
Seb had just gotten into the metal-age, the age when one has gold in the teeth,
silver in the hair and lead in the legs. He was right, Sebastian thought, on
two points at least. Sebastian had all his teeth left, as a matter of fact, and
he was proud of it.
When he was in the middle of his thoughts and shaving, Cerberus came in,
holding his food-bowl in his mouth. Sebastian looked down on him and said he
would come in a moment. As Cerberus went out, someone came into his apartment,
a place lying high up into the Spire of Infernus Hive.
"Good morning, Lieutenant Commander!" Sebastian said as he
finished the tricky part under the chin.
"Morning Seb!" Charleston echoed. "I'll feed Cerberus for
ya!"
Sebastian hummed an answer and washed his face clean of the shaving
ladder. He was a commissar, with a good monthly income, but an electrical
shaver was quite expensive. They weren't STC'd as Chimeras or Leman Russ tanks.
He went out of the bathroom and picked up the morning mail. For
Sebastian, 'morning' was from 9.00 am to 12.00 am. The latter was usually when
he got up. Armageddon was in times of peace now. The one letter that caught his
eye was an invitation from no one else than the Planetary Governor himself;
Herman von Strab. Sebastian hated the man for the simple fact that he was
incompetent. His father, Luthor, had been much more intelligent. So had his
brothers, but they were all dead. But, one couldn't deny an invitation from the
Planetary Governor. Sebastian sighed as he thought of what he was going to miss
by being stuck on a gala-dinner. He would miss going with Charleston to that
Cathayan restaurant, he would miss the hours before the yearly meteorite rain,
which always happened on the same time, every year. He would miss a bar fight
or two...
"Ed," Sebastian called as he walked into the kitchen, just in
time to see Charleston drop a plate. It fell to the floor and went to a hundred
pieces with a crash.
"Sorry." Charleston said meekly.
"Don't worry. What I wanted to say was that we're invited on a
gala-dinner tonight."
"At who's?" Charleston asked as he picked up the larger chunks
of what once was a dish.
"At von Strab's..." Sebastian didn't get any further.
"No way! I know how he talks about me! He hates us Marines!" Charleston
was so upset he almost dropped a new plate.
"Ed, look, it's for this evening only, and I believe he knows of the
meteorites, so we won't miss it!"
"I don't care, he can go to Helsreach!" Charleston was very
angry, at least of what Sebastian could tell.
"It's pronounced 'Hell's reach" Ed, when will you learn?" Sebastian
sighed. He went out in the entry room and pulled on his jackboots. He'd
polished them shiny the night before, and was very proud of their looks. After
that, Sebastian pulled on his leather gloves and put his commissar's cap on his
head, back brim first. He turned to Charleston who was approaching him as he
took down his greatcoat from its hook.
"One night only, Ed." Sebastian repeated.
"Oh, okay, but it's his fault if he asks insulting questions."
"I'll be the judge of that." Sebastian replied and patted his
thigh to call Cerberus to him. "Now, let's go find you a dress suit. Won't
fit if you came in power armour, would it?"
Later that evening
"I feel stupid." Charleston said as he twisted a bit in his
brand-new dress suit. "I look like a penguin!"
"Get used to the tails Ed." Sebastian replied as they walked
into the great hallway of the Infernus Opera. Sebastian had been here before,
but he was just as awed this time as last time by the huge marble walls. It
seemed everything was carved from one enormous rock. The galleries and boxes in
the main hall could be transformed, so to speak, into a space capable to field
the tables that were laid out for nearly one thousand guests. To finish it all
off, a huge chandelier hung from the roof, shaped like the Imperial Eagle. Sebastian
estimated it weighed somewhere around a tonne.
As the two walked through the entry hall and entered the main hall, a
voice snapped Sebastian from his thoughts:
"Excuse me Mr...Yarrick, is it? You must leave your 'pet'
here." the receptionist said with a gesture towards Cerberus. Sebastian
had forgotten all about him.
"Of course." Sebastian replied. "But be careful, he bites
people he doesn't like."
Sebastian smiled towards the now nervous receptionist and patted the man
on his shoulder before he went on.
Charleston looked nervously around. He was definitely not used to wear a
dress suit instead of a suit of powered armour. He seemed to be looking for
something. 'Probably the exit' Sebastian thought to himself.
"Ed, calm down. This isn't so bad and in merely an hour we'll be
watching the meteorites, as we usually do." he tried. It didn't seem to
work.
"I feel so out of place. Look at me! Look at them! I'm two and a
half metres high and nearly all muscle, but they're thin and
aristocratic!"
The commissar did not take notice so much of Charleston's comment on how
they looked, he got more attached to the cats in the ladies' arms.
"Gyrinxes!"
Sebastian spat. "I have to leave my dog outside,
but they can bring in their Gyrinxes! Well ain't that the worst! Cerberus has
higher intelligence than those felines! At least he's less malignant."
"Has this something to do with the Gyrinx that scratched you bad
when you were three years old?" Charleston said and scratched his chin. "Of
course it has Ed!" Seb replied. "And the worst is that Herman adores
them, we're not equal on one..."
Charleston gave Sebastian a hard elbow as to warn that someone was
approaching them. That someone happened to be Herman von Strab. Of course
carrying his own Gyrinx, the chalk-white Sela. It had been in the von Strab
family for many years, longer than Sebastian had been around and it had been
that Gyrinx which scratched him. There was no love lost between Sebastian and
Sela. None at all.
"Good evening gentlemen." von Strab said in his most
pleasurable tone. Sebastian thought it sounded so fake he could be sick. Charleston
felt the same. Herman von Strab was a man in his thirties, his head shaved bald
and wearing a monocle over his left eye. He was around one metre ninety and
quite powerfully built.
"Good evening, governor." Sebastian managed to get out, his
eyes fixed on Sela. The Gyrinx purred softly, but it kept a steady eye on the
old commissar. Charleston muttered forth an "
'Evening." and then decided it was time to visit the punch bowl.
"Good," von Strab began. "Now that the Marine is gone, I
can talk with you Yarrick, one-on-one."
"Of course." Sebastian replied and in a sweeping chesture
grabbed a champagne glass from a passing waiter's silver plate. von Strab was
just startled over how swiftly the old man moved. He'd read about Sebastian's
grandfather, the famous, and now legendary, Commissar-General Rolf 'The Wolf'
Yarrick. von Strab had, how much he even hated to admit it, the Yarrick family
to thank that his family now was in control of Armageddon. It could have been
the other way around, Herman knew it.
"What is it about?" Sebastian asked after a moment's silence.
"As you know, you've been my tactical advisor the last ten years,
but as you're going to retire, I'm wondering, who will replace you?"
Sebastian was taken aback by the question. He hadn't told Charleston yet
that he had thought on retiring, but somehow, von Strab had managed to find
out.
"I don't know," Sebastian replied while playing with the
thought of what he would to do to the man that had told von Strab he was going
to retire, when he found him. "You'll have to ask Commissar Holt about
that. He's in command of the Commissariat of Armageddon."
With that, Sebastian left von Strab to his thoughts. It was rude to leave
a planetary governor just like that, but a commissar served the Emperor first
and no-one second. Most people with sense knew this.
Sebastian tapped Charleston on his arm as he joined him. Charleston spun
round and then looked down to get into eye contact with the old man.
"Ed, there's something I have to tell you." Sebastian said, his
voice sounding troubled.
"What?" Charleston simply replied and handed Sebastian what
looked like cheese and shrimp on a stick. Gourmet food wasn't in Seb's taste,
but this was the day of the Feast, wasn't it?
"I'm going to retire."
Charleston nearly dropped the very expensive Cathayan mica glass in his
hand. The glasses were made of the sand on the Cathayan seafloor, which was a
good 10 miles below surface level and gave the glass a reddish-purple colour.
"You must be kidding!" Charleston yelped.
"Ed, I'm no Space Marine, I'm an old man now. My body has begun
telling me it's had enough!" Sebastian played a bit with the stick from
the snack between his left-hand fingers, placed it in between the thumb and the
middle finger and broke it with the index finger. He looked up at Charleston.
"It's life, my friend, heroes come, and heroes fall. I'm seventy
years old, and I would appreciate to celebrate my seventy first birthday."
"Sebastian Yarrick, is it really you?" a voice called from
behind them.
Sebastian and Charleston spun round and a smile broke Seb's face.
"Ishmael Grisham! What are you doing here?" Sebastian said as
he hugged his old friend in a brotherly embrace.
"I live here nowadays. Retired ten years ago. Had no idea you were
here. How long have you been here Seb?" Ishmael asked. Ishmael was just
like Sebastian seventy years old, but his hair was chalk-white. He was just as
slimly built as Seb, but nearly ten centimetres taller.
"For thirty years at least." Sebastian said as the threesome
walked away from the crowd of people. "I was stationed here after twenty
years of service between different regiments. I've grown quite fond of
Armageddon, despite its name!"
The other two laughed heartily at this. Sebastian had, despite his
childhood, a great sense of humour. Charleston believed it was because his
childhood, Sebastian had that humour.
"So, Ishmael, where have you been? We lost communication shortly
after graduation." Sebastian asked after a while.
"I was stationed in the Border Planets systems. There had been
reports of one planet being heavily infested with Orks."
"Orks?" Charleston asked, "What are those?"
"They're big and green, Ed, extremely savage, could tell you more,
but it would take ages." Sebastian suddenly remembered he hadn't
introduced Charleston to Ishmael. How rude of him!
"I forgot, Ishmael, let me introduce you to Lieutenant Commander
Edmund Charleston, 8th Company Death Angels. Ed, let me introduce you to
ex-commissar Ishmael "IG" Grisham."
"IG?" Charleston asked as he shook Ishmael's hand.
"I hated my name when I was young, IG are my initials."
"So, Ishmael, what happened there?" Sebastian queried.
"The Orks put up some damn hard resistance. We fought for years. Thought
that every new day was going to be my last. Nearly was ten years ago. We'd been
fighting for two years on Gideon when it happened." Ishmael made a pause
to rub his back as the war-wound that had made him retire reminded itself
again. "The Orks fought like if possessed, and they were
quite well organized. Haven't seen them so organized, with the exception
of..."
"Gazgrim
Nekksnappa, I know." Sebastian interrupted.
"I made a study of them. I know their language and culture quite well,
thank you Ishmael."
"Right," Ishmael said as he continued. "These were even
more organized, like the Hive Fleets. The force I was in was attacked from
behind, and what I saw before I was knocked into a coma, was the most fekking
large Ork I've ever seen, must have been at least 3 and a half to four metres
tall. Without the mega armour it was wearing."
"Mega armour?" Charleston interrupted.
"Almost like Imperial Tactical Dreadnought armour, but less efficient,
and more cumbersome." Sebastian explained.
"Yeah, but this Ork was the size of a Dreadnought walker! He didn't
even bother to use the power claw of his on me. He merely smacked me in the
back, breaking it. That's what made me retire and come to Armageddon. I was in
coma for four weeks. The medics said it was risk for me breaking it again, so I
retired. Believe me, they said it was only a few centimetres from making me
lame from chest and down."
"Not good." Sebastian mumbled as he knocked back the last of
his champagne.
Ishmael "hmm"ed an answer and started fidgeting with his left
hand. Sebastian saw immediately that something was wrong with his friend.
"IG, what is it?" he asked. Sebastian grabbed his friend in his
left arm, but snapped his hand back. With force, Sebastian rolled up Ishmael's
sleeve. What he saw was the titanium skeleton of a bionic arm. He looked
shocked at Ishmael.
"What...how...?" Sebastian stuttered forth.
"The giant Ork left me for dead, trampled my arm." was
Ishmael's simple answer. He looked with sorrow eyes on Sebastian. Sebastian
answered with the same look. They both had told each other to try to avoid
bionic implants. Ishmael had broken that promise.
"I didn't notice because you were wearing gloves." Sebastian
said after a long moment's silence.
"Something bugs me about that Ork Warlord though." Ishmael said
as he pulled down his sleeve again. "On his claw was a glyph I've never
seen before. Never. If I didn't know better, I would say he had his own,
personal glyph."
"Impossible." Sebastian protested. None of them were paying
attention to Charleston now. He just watched the conversation. "All Ork
Warlords and Warbosses create their names from existing glyphs! There has been
no record of personal glyphs before."
"Well, "expert"?" Ishmael said a bit irritated. "I
still remember it clearly, I can draw it up for you. Then you tell me what it
is!"
"Fine!" Sebastian said and crossed his arms over his chest. He
and Ishmael often had conversations like this, but they were the best of
friends.
Ishmael pulled out a pad and a pen from a pocket and drew down the Ork
glyph.
"I'm writing my biography, if you wonder Seb." Ishmael said as
he put the finishing touches to the glyph. "That's why I always wear a pen
and pad nowadays." He handed the pad to Sebastian, who studied it
intently for a couple of minutes.
"Never seen it before, but the iron gob and the horns give him away
for being a mighty Warlord, but as for the one-eyed skull, I don't know." Sebastian
said as he looked up from the pad.
"Half the Ork's cranium seemed to be made of metal, of what I saw
the split second before he hit me." Ishmael added. "Maybe that
explains the one-eyed skull."
Charleston took a look at the glyph. He remembered something with it. He'd
seen it before, but where?
"I've seen it before, on a crippled Space Hulk. We thought it was
Genestealer infected, but it seemed as if used by something else and then
abandoned." he said as he turned to the two elderly men.
"How long ago was that, Ed?" Sebastian asked concerned.
"Couple of months ago maybe, can't remember clearly." Charleston
said as he scratched his chin in thought. "But it was in an abandoned star
system, far from any planet, so I don't know what happened to them."
"What did you do then?" Ishmael asked.
"Reported it to the Magos Xenos, and it was identified as Space Hulk
6-6-5." Charleston replied.
"6-6-5?" Ishmael repeated silently. "That was the hulk
that left Gideon, the planet that they'd invaded. It just disappeared!"
"And Ed found it." Sebastian said as he thought of something. Something
wasn't right here. Throwing an eye on his watch, he saw it was approaching mid-night.
"Yoinks!" he exclaimed as he saw the time. "We'd better
get outside, Armageddon soon passes through the Belt."
Ishmael and Sebastian went outside, followed closely by Charleston. Although
in a Hive, they were so far up that the night-sky was clearly visible. There
wasn't a cloud on the star-strewn sky and Charleston inhaled the air as if it
was the real. Armageddon's atmosphere was since long destroyed by all the
industry, but the filter in the Upper Levels still kept the cool in the outside
air but wasted the toxins. He looked towards the east and saw the pyre rising
from the Diablo Mountains. Beyond the Diablo Mountains lay Hades Hive, on the
other side of the Euminedes River.
It wouldn't have been visible at ground level, but here, ten miles up in
the air; one saw the black silhouette of the Hive where Sebastian had been
raised. Charleston remembered the day he'd visited Rolf and his dead son's
wife. Sebastian was cute, Charleston had thought. He'd born clear Yarrickian
signs, like the blueish hair and the green eyes. Not to mention the slim build.
But the accent from Callidus was lost as he was much with neighbours on
Armageddon. He still had his grandfather's way of exclaiming things, but he
lacked the accent. Charleston had thought it had sounded silly in the
beginning, but now he liked it. Sebastian always had something to throw against
possible verbal opponents. Anything ranging from an insult to a mere sarcasm. Sebastian
had many times ended in trouble in the Schola Progenium because of his gift of
the gab. At least that was what McKenzie had told him.
Charleston joined Sebastian who now was alone. Ishmael had gone to talk
with some of the Armageddon nobles. He got along much better than Sebastian, a
much more political commissar than Sebastian. Seb was more the lead-by-example
type of commissar, Charleston knew so. He and Sebastian were standing by a
marble rail, wonderfully sculptured by the best sculptor that Armageddon had to
offer. Their eyes were focused at the horizon to the south. Suddenly, a
blue-white streak crossed the sky, the Belt Passing had begun.
In the minutes that followed, all eyes were focused on the night-sky, as meteorite
after meteorite crashed and burned in Armageddon's atmosphere. Some were of the
larger kind and would probably hit the ground somewhere, most likely in the
wasteland. Suddenly, Sebastian pointed towards something that seemed like, not
a meteorite, but an asteroid.
"Check out the size of that thing!" the old man gasped.
Charleston saw the big rock as it came streaking towards Infernus Hive. It
passed a mere kilometre above the highest spine, the roar of it's burning hulk
almost deafening. Charleston guessed it'd been at least a few kilometres long
and half as wide. But something with the huge rock troubled him. He wasn't
alone on that point. He felt as Sebastian tugged his arm, like a small child
calling an adult's attention. That was what Sebastian looked like in comparison
with Charleston. A small child.
"Ed, don't you think it's odd that thing hasn't been pulled in by
Armageddon's gravity pool earlier?" Sebastian asked.
"You too eh?" Charleston said and looked down on the small man.
Something fell down before their noses and tinged as it landed on the
marble floor. Sebastian, with his keen eyesight, saw where it landed and picked
it up. He got a concerned look as he examined the little piece of metal. It
looked like a cruel and flat hook. Sebastian tucked it into the pocket of his
breeches and turned to Charleston.
"Let's go inside. It's chilly and I don't want to catch a cold. Besides,
I believe the dinner itself will begin soon." Sebastian told the Space
Marine. He then turned and called over to Ishmael that they were going inside. Ishmael
answered with a gesture that said they could go in before him, he'd join them
sooner or later.
"I think I'll go visit the punch-bowl again, before dinner." Charleston
said with a smile.
"I thought Marines weren't allowed to drink on duty?" Sebastian
said with a shrewd look on his face.
"McKenzie once told me a Marine body could take more than ten times
as much alcohol as a normal human body. I intend to find out if that's
true."
"I see." Sebastian said and quickly added, "It's made from
the Volcanus Hive Blanche Wine, right?"
"Yeah, mixed with Volrathian Vodka and Callidussian Retango fruit
juice." Charleston answered with a big smile and rushed off.
As Sebastian was left alone, he shook his head silently to himself. Charleston
was the perfect soldier, if it had not been for his somewhat cliffhanger like
tactics. And his slow-to-get ways. But in the end, Charleston, IG and Cerberus
were the best friends Sebastian ever had.
"Well, if it ain't the reckless old man?" a voice suddenly said
from behind. Sebastian knew the voice.
"You still blame me for that thing, Hans Grauberger. They were up
against bad odds." Sebastian said, as he turned on the two metres tall
merchant noble. Grauberger was built like an ox, and had good contacts
with noble houses as well as Underhive Gangsters. Sebastian had gotten on the
way wrong side with Grauberger just a few months ago, when Charleston was gone
on his mission in the abandoned star system.
"It was six of my finest bodyguards against you, a decrepit old man,
and his pooch." Grauberger said and grabbed Sebastian by his collar.
"Watch the uniform, I'll use it when reviewing the troops next
week." Sebastian said, trying to calm his rage against Grauberger. How
Sebastian hated to be called decrepit old man. He wasn't one.
"One of them is still in coma! And by the way, we're a bit off from
the rest of the crowd, so you're free to scream. I want the others to hear what
happens to my enemies." Grauberger spat and came close to Seb's lean face
with his own pasty features. Sebastian winced slightly. It was clear Grauberger
was drunk, very drunk, judging from his breath. It frankly reeked of the stench
of liquor.
"Can you allow an old man a last wish and will?" Sebastian said
and raised his left hand.
"Of course!"
Without a word, Sebastian put his left hand index finger and thumb at the
corners of his mouth and let fly a high pitched wolf-whistle. It was so
high-pitched, that it was barely discernable for human ears. Grauberger winced
at the high-pitched whine, but didn't let go of Sebastian's collar.
"What the fekk was that good for?!" Grauberger growled at the
old commissar.
Sebastian simply smiled a wolf's grin back. "You'll see." he
said. Grauberger raised his meaty fist for the blow.
In the lobby, Cerberus awoke from his nap and twitched his ears,
searching for the source of the Call. His master was the only human that knew
the Call that was all Cerberus knew. And when the Call came, the master was in
trouble. Leaping up and across the counter of the reception in a blur, he ran
towards the source of the Call. Cerberus long claws left horrible scratches in
the marble floors and several Gyrinxes were sent leaping out of their owners
arms as the Callidus wolf-hound ran past with the speed of a rocket. Sadly
though, it passed by von Strab and Sela leapt out of her master's arms and ran
and hid underneath a table, not to come out in hours.
Grauberger realized the commotion too late and turned only to see a
grey-red-black ball of fur and claws come flying towards him. Instinctively
letting go of Sebastian, Grauberger raised his arms to protect himself from
Cerberus powerful jaws and tearing claws. With a scream issuing from his lips,
Grauberger fell backwards to the ground, eighty full kilos of wolfhound landing
on top of him. Noticing no biting, Grauberger lowered his guard and looked
straight at the snarling face of Cerberus, standing astride over the big mans
body, a low growl coming from Cerberus throat.
"Enough, Cerberus. He's learned his lesson." Sebastian said and
Cerberus obeyed immediately.
"YARRICK!!" a hoarse voice screamed from behind. Sebastian
didn't want to turn, but he did it anyways. He looked at the planetary
governor, who was red-faced with rage. 'Oh, God-Emperor, why did I do that?' Sebastian
thought darkly to himself.
"Get yourself and your mangy mutt OUTTA HERE!! NOW!!" von Strab
screamed at Sebastian.
"Yes, milord governor." Sebastian managed after restraining
himself from shooting the man. He always had a laspistol with himself, but
remembered he'd left it home, because of the party. 'Damn,' Seb thought. A
summary execution had been fine now, and Sebastian even had the prosecution
laid up in his mind: "Insulting of Imperial Commissar, punishable with
what the commissar see fit" according to Commissarial Edict 827f,
Sebastian recited to himself in his mind. Now he just hoped that Holt had seen
it all, or at least heard it.
Turning his back towards the angry mob made up of Gyrinx owners,
Sebastian called his dog to his side and walked out. As he came to the
reception, the receptionist had the guts to heave out: "Leaving early, Mr.
Yarrick?"
Sebastian'd had about enough. He gave the snooty receptionist a stare
that could have cut through adamantium and growled:
"That's Commissar Yarrick to you, you little whippersnapper! Now
hand me my greatcoat and cap so I can leave this place!"
The startled receptionist handed the obviously enraged old man his
belongings and watched him leave with his dog.
As Sebastian got to the door, a big hand on his shoulder tried to stop
him.
"There's no use in trying to make
me stay Ed." Sebastian said and sighed heavily. "I've been ordered
out of here, by the governor himself."
"It's not that Seb." Charleston
replied. "I just don't want you to end up in trouble. It's a dark night
out there, and you're an old man."
"I can manage on my own." the
old man said and shrugged of Charleston's grip. "I've got Cerberus to
protect me."
As Seb walked out the main doors of
Infernus Hive Opera House, he turned to Charleston, his eyes shadowed by the
peak of his cap, giving him a sinister look.
"Two more things. Make sure
Ishmael gets home safely. He's not the type that can take much liquor. And stop
calling me old man." Sebastian said and walked out.
"Sure, I will." Charleston
replied, a slight sadness in his voice.
As Sebastian walked down the boulevard,
he turned towards the opera house and sighed. Why did things always go so wrong
for him? As he kept walking home, Sebastian kept pondering on this. Why did no
one listen to him? His grandfather hadn't that day when Sebastian had turned 15
and had wanted the Chaos Hound hunting delayed for a day. Luthor von Strab
hadn't when Sebastian had warned him of the many fatalities around the Cathayan
fugu-fish ten years ago. Fugu. Cathay.
"I know Cerberus, let's spend this
Feast Day at Cheng Fu's Cathayan restaurant, as we usually do. At least you're
allowed there, right, old friend?"
Cerberus gave to a bark as an
approvement. Sebastian Yarrick laughed to himself all the way to Cheng Fu's,
together with Cerberus's joyful barks.
Tertius Recreation Island, south of
Phoenix Island, three days later
"If you can stop doing those
lobs!" Sebastian said as he threw himself after the LazerBall. He missed
it with a hairs width and the ball bounced into the forest behind the LazerBall
court.
"Can't help it Seb." Ishmael
said and made a twitching gesture with his right wrist. "'S all in the
wrist!"
"Whatever!" Sebastian replied
and chased after the ball into the woods. Holt had allowed him a few days off
after von Strab's explosion on him, and Holt had also said Seb could do some usefulness
while away. Usefulness had apparently been; 'Keep Charleston of me back!'.
Sebastian was soon joined in his
searching by Charleston, but the big Marine seemed to be pondering on something
else than finding a tiny LazerBall. They'd walked a good bit into the woods,
when Charleston finally broke the silence.
"What did you do after you
left?" was all he said.
"I went to Cheng Fu's. After that
I went home. Did you get Ishmael home safely, Ed?" Sebastian replied.
"Yup, and I can say he was more
than tipsy by three o'clock. That's when I got him to bed."
Sebastian made a sign to Charleston to
keep quiet. He edged soundlessly further into the forest. Something had caught
Seb's attention, and with pure curiosity as driving force, Charleston followed.
They walked for a few minutes until they got to the other edge of the forest. It
was the Tertius golf course. Said to be one of the finest golf courses in the
Imperium. It was the 18th hole as far as Sebastian could tell. He could see the
tee from where he was, and wasn't it...?
(Author's Note: On the contrary to
popular belief, golf isn't native to Earth. Instead, it's a sport which
mysteriously appears in all higher standing civilisations and races as soon as
it reaches a certain technology standard and the office people and bosses have
too little to do on their holidays.)
"Ain't we going a bit far away
now, Seb?" Charleston asked.
"Shhh..." Sebastian hissed at
the Space Marine. "I believe that's von Strab up there."
Sebastian pointed at the man at the tee
point. He wasn't alone. He had a servitor caddie with him, and somebody else.
Charleston picked up the magnoculars he
had around his neck and took a look in them. He was wearing them because he had
to supervise his soldiers later in the day. That was where he was going when he
had run into Seb and Ishmael at least. Now he seemed to have forgotten it all.
"That's von Strab alright." Charleston
said and handed the magnoculars to Sebastian so he could have a look. "I
don't know about the other two though."
"Excluding the servitor, they're
three." Sebastian said quietly. "von Strab,
Grauberger and..."
Sebastian
hesitated a bit and touched the zoom runes on the magnoculars.
"By holy Saint Armagon!" Seb
breathed. "I can't believe it. What is Holt doing here?"
Sebastian crept closer to the edge of
the woods.
"Careful Seb." Charleston
warned. "I've heard von Strab's got a good drive..."
"Get real Ed!" Sebastian
snapped him off. "What are the odds on von Strab getting a ball on the
green from there?"
The -thwock!- sound from
Herman's club reached Sebastian's ears to late and as he turned, the white ball
hitting him hard on his brow. Seb was thrown backwards onto the ground and the
ball disappeared into the forest. Charleston ran after the ball and was soon
back with it. He pulled Seb a good fifty metres into the forest and hunched
over him.
"You okay?" Charleston
whispered. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Hmmmm, eight!?" Sebastian
exclaimed, his vision blurred by the whack on his head.
Charleston looked at the two fingers
he'd been holding up and smiled back at Seb. "Good enough! Get up."
"Now that's a head-in-one!" Sebastian
said as he rubbed his forehead where one heck of a lump was forming.
"How's the head?" Charleston
asked as he watched the threesome and the servitor get closer. Holt and
Grauberger weren't as good golfers as von Strab on miles distances.
"It smarts a bit." Sebastian
said and tried a half-hearted smile. He looked at the closing men.
"I see my
ball, and Commissar Holt's ball, but I can't see milord von Strab's ball
though." Grauberger said and gestured towards his blue ball and Holt's
red.
"Maybe it flew into the
woods?" Holt suggested. Holt was a tall man, lean but slightly built. His
face had a scar across his right cheek, cut there by a Genestealer claw many
years ago. His hair was closely cropped and blond, his eyes blue. Coming into
his early forties, he'd been stationed on Armageddon for quite a while, nearly
ten years.
Charleston took careful aim and,
muttering the Litany of Secure Aim, threw the little white golf-ball onto the
green. It stopped little more than half a metre from the hole.
"Talk about wonder screw!"
von Strab exclaimed. "I believe the Emperor must be smiling on me
today!"
"By all the saints, so must be the
case, milord!" Holt said as von Strab received the putter from the
servitor.
"But to get back to
business," the governor answered after the sinking the ball into the cup. "What
do you think of these reports we've received?"
Holt realized it was him Herman was
talking to.
"Don't you mean lack thereof? Maybe
it's just Jungle animals. After all, it's only two squads of men."
"Of course, you are probably right
James." von Strab said as he and Holt watched Grauberger put.
Holt got ready for his put but as he
swung the club, von Strab cut in.
"By the way, who will be Yarrick's
replacement when he retires?"
This remark made Holt miss the put and
he looked up sharp at the planetary governor.
"What? Yarrick's going to retire? He
hasn't told me anything about something as that? He looked tired last time he
came down to the Commissariat, so I gave him a few days off from the reforming
mission he has." Holt finally put the ball in the cup and the servitor got
a blank look on its face before it told the three men their scores. von Strab
had won, but Holt and Grauberger had been close behind though.
"Though he said this was going to
be his last mission, but I thought he meant on Armageddon." Holt said,
looking puzzled. "Who told you this?"
'That's something I also want to know.'
Sebastian thought to himself in the bushes, trying to block out the throbbing
pain in his forehead.
"None of real importance."
von Strab said and wavered it off. "But till his mission is complete, he
remains my tactical advisor. Maybe I should have a talk with him when he comes
back from his holidays?"
"I would also like to have a talk
with that old man." Grauberger said and looked disgruntled. "You know
what he did with my bodyguards!"
"You were breaking Imperial Law,
he was acting correctly according to the Book of Imperial Law and
Punishment!" Holt snapped. He wasn't going to stand here hearing a
comrade-in-arm's name being dragged in the dirt. "Drug dealing is breaking
paragraph 284/js in volume 5 of Imperial Laws."
"I never got to deal them, he
destroyed your only evidence!" Grauberger answered back.
"That's is not the matter right
now!"
"Gentlemen," Herman eased
them. "Let's not begin arguing over something that happened months ago
shall we?"
"Milord Governor, should I remind
you that the cases on the murders of your father and brothers still aren't
closed?" Holt said and shot von Strab a devastating glance. von Strab
looked taken aback by this. Holt looked dangerous even without his smart, black
uniform, and Herman had the feeling that Holt could kill both him and
Grauberger with the golf clubs if necessary, and dismiss it as 'Acting for the
Imperium's Good'.
"Let's not talk more about this,
shall we?" von Strab said as the three left, the servitor caddie crawling
after them on it's mechanical spider's legs.
"Did you
hear that Ed?" Sebastian said as he turned to face Charleston as the
others disappeared out of sight.
"Yuh, our thoughts have been verified."
Charleston answered.
"The plot thickens Ed. I have
always thought that Herman killed his own family to seize the power as Governor
of Armageddon. Only thing that troubles me is why Holt doesn't stop both
Grauberger's and von Strab's actions?"
"Though that about the missing
squads worries me." the lieutenant commander said as he and Sebastian
walked back to Ishmael. Seb picked up the LazerBall from the ground as he found
it. "I have a Neophyte squad which hasn't reported back, and it's almost a
week since it set out from base."
"I believe we'll just have to wait
and see what happens Ed." Sebastian said as they entered the LazerBall
court, where a very curious Ishmael waited.
"Where the fekk have you two been?
It can't take that long to find a cursed ball, can it?" Ishmael suddenly
saw the big red lump on Seb's forehead.
"What happened with you Seb?"
"Long story, but as I probably
can't play any more today, I'll tell you as we get back to the hotel." Sebastian
replied and picked up his gear.
"Gee, what for?" Ishmael
asked and picked up his own gear.
"I must get back to Infernus
Commissariat, we may have a situation brewing."
And as the threesome walked back to the
hotel, Sebastian explained everything he'd heard to Ishmael. Charleston didn't
pay too much attention. He'd heard it before. He smiled to himself over the two
old men. Sebastian and Ishmael had been friends since even before the Schola
Progenium. They had much in common, mostly their occupation, or in IG's case,
ex-occupation. And the fact that they both refused to grow up. That was why
they played LazerBall. It was mostly a game for 15 to 18 year olds with good
fitness. Seb and IG had made themselves a reputation as LazerBallers back in
the Schola Progenium. They were as good now as back then, but the poor
youngsters that had been on the neighbouring courts had looked dumbstruck on
the two old men playing as LazerBall pros, not believing what they saw.
Charleston was pulled form his thoughts
by Sebastian's voice.
"Huh, what Seb?" Charleston
said as he came back to reality.
"I said, do you think this is it
Ed? McKenzie has made more horrible predictions than ever, and a big Warp Storm
has cut off Armageddon from the rest of the Imperium. Or is it just Jungle
animals?"
"Let's hope on Jungle
animals." Charleston replied.
"Told you." Ishmael said from
his side. "You're so negative Sebastian."
Upper hab levels of Infernus Hive, 3
weeks after the Days of the Feast
"Still don't understand why you
harvest your own grapes, Seb." Charleston asked as he let Sebastian stand
on his shoulders to cut down the uppermost grapes.
"Because I like the Callidussian
better than those "native" to Armageddon, Ed. Stretch yourself a bit,
I can't really reach that one." Seb replied.
Charleston grunted a bit as he straightened
himself. Seb had a balcony to his apartment, or whatever one could call the
"balcony". There he had for several years now farmed his own grapes
and made his own wine from. With a little help from the Adeptus Mechanicus he'd
turned the climate on the large balcony into that of the equatorial regions of
Callidus. Sebastian had built some frames out of wood on which the grapevines
could grow on, and they certainly had. The ones that stretched the highest were
nearly out of Sebastians reach, even when standing on Charleston's shoulders. The
one topmost were at the edge of the next balcony on the apartment above.
"Ed, I said straighten,"
Sebastian muttered to himself. "Ten-hut!"
Hearing the order Charleston made a
perfect attention and grew one more inch. That was all Sebastian needed to grab
hold of the edge and stretch after the last bunch of grapes, but as he did so,
he looked over the edge of the upper balcony floor.
"Aiiie! Look!" a female voice
screamed. Sebastian, sweaty and red-faced having a firm grip around the edge,
looked shocked at the young woman that was sitting on a sun chair, not wearing
more than a bikini. She had obviously been sunbathing, this being the Season of
Fire after all, but she hadn't been alone. A tall, muscular man rose from
another sun chair and looked curiously at Sebastian. Then a grin split his face
and he walked over to Sebastian and knelt down.
"Well, well, well. If it ain't the
old man? Had no idea you looked on girls for fun. But I believe it's common in
your age."
"Now, Grauberger, this is not what
it looks like..." Sebastian tried to explain.
"Oh no Yarrick, you ain't getting
away that easy." the big merchant growled.
"At ease?" Charleston asked
from below. "Okeydokey commissar!"
With that, Charleston let rest and
walked away. Sebastian, still holding a firm grip around the edge, fell down
half metre before his arm muscles finally got it that they should start
working. He fumbled with his feet to find the pole that stuck out of the wall
on his left. This part of Infernus Hive was built to liken the houses of old on
Armageddon, before the Hives became a reality and industry turned the lush
green fields and forests to Ash Wastes. Sebastian's left foot found the pole
and he got his foot over it.
Down on the ground, Charleston paid no
attention to what was happening. He was busy taking in the baskets full of
grapes, when Seb's doorbell rang. Charleston went and opened it and saw the
planetary governor standing on the outside, without Arbiter escort or anything.
"Is Yarrick here?" he asked,
before he saw Cerberus coming up behind Charleston. The wolfhound was not
enraptured of seeing the governor. He smelled Gyrinx. A low growl came from the
wolf's throat.
"Get that dog away from me,
Lieutenant Commander." Herman said and swallowed. He was aware of how
dangerous Cerberus was, the quarter of Chaos-hound making him twice as
dangerous and totally fearless.
"Now
Grauberger, make no hasty decisions!" Sebastian squealed, falling very out
of character with himself.
"Keep off my back Yarrick! And
especially my dames!" Grauberger said and shoved off Sebastian from the
edge. Sebastian landed on the pole, with a leg on each side of it. His face
contorted into a wile grimace of pain and agony as he glared up on Grauberger. The
merchant just gave him a pleased smile as reply and disappeared from vision. Sebastian
let his head fall against the wall as he exhaled for the first time since the
pole had smashed into his groin. He tried to hold back the tears of pain, but
it was no use. They ran down his face and as he relaxed his grip with his hand
around the pole somewhat, he spun round 180 degrees and became hanging upside-down,
the pain easing somewhat. Sebastian poked his head through the green roof of
the grape plants and looked around. Charleston was nowhere to be seen, but he
heard voices and they were coming closer. It was Charleston and von Strab,
which he could make out. Instinctively, he ducked back up and hung in a very
uncomfortable sort of way, but he was supposed to be reviewing the troops, not
harvest grapes. His head disappeared through the foliage just as von Strab and
Charleston entered the balcony.
"I'm sorry 'bout Cerberus,
governor. I believe you smell Gyrinx and Cerberus does not like Gyrinxes."
Charleston chuckled.
"Right," von Strab answered,
not the slightest bemused. "So, where's the old man?"
"I don't know really." Charleston
said and looked around, confused. "He was here a minute ago."
"Maybe he got other things to
do." von Strab tried. "He's a busy man, after all."
"But he didn't pass the door of
what I know. Maybe he's hiding somewhere?"
"Never mind," von Strab said
and waved off Charleston's question. "Just tell him when you see him that
I want to talk to him. I'll be in the tactical room in the Upper Spire."
With that von Strab left, but as he got
to the door, he stopped dead. Seb took a brief moment to relax his back and
bent down beneath the foliage and looked at Charleston, who looked back with a
confused and shocked expression, and then at von Strab. Seb ducked back up just
as Herman turned round to look back at where Seb had been a split second
earlier. von Strab walked up to where Seb had hung.
"What is hanging here then?" Herman
said bemused and looked upwards. "A bunch of grapes?" He plucked down
a grape and ate it, smiling at its taste.
"Had no idea Yarrick was growing
his own." von Strab said as he left.
"He likes having a hobby, and he
doesn't like the Armageddon grapes so much. You know, the ones grown in
Volcanus, Tempestora and Tartarus."
"I see. Equatorial Callidussian,
right?" von Strab asked standing in the doorway.
"Yup. By the way, I'll tell him
governor." Charleston said and closed the door. Turning on the magnetic
locks, Charleston went out on the balcony again. Cerberus where already sitting
underneath where Sebastian was hanging, the old man's head poking through the
foliage again.
"You okay Seb?" Charleston
asked worriedly as he helped the commissar down.
"I'm fine, except my groin hurts a
fekking lot." Sebastian replied and walked inside. "I think I'll have
to freeze the grapes, no matter how little I like it. And as soon as the pain abates,
I'll go see what the governor wants."
"Hope you'll wear something else
than a singlet and your breeches." Charleston said as he carried the last
basket of grapes inside.
Infernus Hive Spire, Tactical Room, 2
hours later
Sebastian walked in a quick march as he
approached the tactical room. It had been a long time since he'd been used as
tactical advisor, but by the Emperor, he had knowledge of tactics. He'd been
fed with it from a tender age because of his grandfather. When the other kids
had played Loyalists and Traitors, Sebastian had learned how to fight and
outwit a real Berzerker opponent, tactical wise and in close combat. He'd read
about Imperial Law and Creed when the other had read comic books. Then
Sebastian hadn't liked it, but now he was glad he had as he had a great
advantage now. His many years of personal experience also paid off.
As he got to the entry doors, the two
fully armoured Arbiters saluted him sharply and Sebastian answered it. With a
hiss the entry doors opened, a sound Sebastian thought sounded too much as the
hiss of the Ash Waste Cobras. He shrugged of the feeling of foreboding he got
when he thought of the creatures. Horrible
summed up the sand cobras quite well. He took off his peaked commissar's cap,
went into attention and saluted the assembled officers.
"At ease Commissar Yarrick,"
von Strab said as he looked up from the map of Armageddon Prime that was
projected on the glass of the table the men were assembled around. As Sebastian
relaxed, he found much to his chagrin that no chair was empty. Seemed they
didn't want him to stay long then. This was not a good sign.
Sebastian looked around at the assembled
men. There was of course von Strab, but also General Hurley of the 1st Steel
Legion, Colonel Archer of the 15th Steel Legion, Lord General Terhune of the
Planetary Defence Force (PDF for short), Lord Inquisitor Yudka (who made Seb
unintentionally shrug), Princeps Kurtiz Mannheim, Princeps Prime of the Iron
Skulls Titan Legion, and Commissar Holt.
Hurley, Archer and Mannheim were
temporarily stationed here, that Sebastian knew, so this had to be severe.
"Commissar Yarrick, may I ask you
something?" Herman began. Addressing him with rank wasn't von Strab's way,
so this was bad, Seb knew.
"Go ahead, milord."
"You know that three weeks ago,
Armageddon was 'hit' by an asteroid the size not seen in centuries, millennia's
even. Hasn't it bothered you that it never crashed?"
"Indeed it has." Sebastian
replied, feeling the tiny shard of metal inside his greatcoat pocket. He'd put
it there when he was at Cheng Fu's and completely forgotten it since. The same
went for the paper with the glyph on that Ishmael had handed him.
"Right, because the answer's
simple. It was a Space Hulk, and it has landed."
The silence after von Strab's words was
deafening. Sebastian felt for the first time surprised in twenty years.
"Maybe it's fate that a warp-storm
of immense size has started right now, disabling any help from the rest of the
Imperium reaching Armageddon, but on the other hand we won't need it, as I'm
fully aware that we can manage on our own." Herman said and smiled.
Sebastian couldn't take it; he had to
put in his word.
"Permission to speak freely,
governor?"
"Of course Yarrick."
"I think we should at least send
out something to find out what we're facing..."
"We already know what we're
facing, commissar!" the governor snapped him off. "This morning
Volcanus Hive fell to an allied force of Berzerkers and and an Orkish Horde
under the joined command of Lord Kharn and an Ork Warlord named Ghazghkull Mag
Uruk Thraka."
Sebastian looked shocked at the
governor.
"Is this some sort of joke,
milord?" Sebastian queried.
"No, Yarrick, it isn't,"
Herman softly replied.
"Then we MUST inform the Imperium
of our, hrm, situation. We cannot fight such a war alone! We need immediate
assistance from the Adeptus Astartes!"
"I told you the warp-storm makes
all inter-stellar travel impossible! Besides, we can fight this battle alone! We
have got one and a half company of Space Marines already stationed here! We
even have a Titan Legion at our disposal!" von Strab shouted. Seb was too
well aware of the governor's short fuse. And glory-hunger and incompetence.
"It's barely ONE Company!" Sebastian
shouted with a gesture. "The 8th is still drawing Neophytes!"
"Okay, have it your way, Yarrick. I'll
listen to you." von Strab said and calmed down, pinching the bridge of his
nose with his fingers.
"Good. We can fix it without help
from the Imperium, but then you'll have to do exactly as I say. First and
foremongst is Kharn's Berzerkers. Never fight a Berzerker on equal terms. He's
too good a tactician for that. If you're not careful, he'll outflank you and outmanoeuvre
you like that!"
Sebastian snapped his fingers to
emphasize his meaning.
"Go on, commissar" von Strab
said, steepling his fingers.
"Secondly, the Orks. They're mean
and green. That's how far most of your knowledge stretches on orks. More so,
they're tough as heck and they're quite capable of surviving in nearly any environment.
The ash wastes of Armageddon poses no threat to them. Possibly the sand cobras,
but nothing else will. I've never heard of Warlord Ghazghkull Thraka before,
but as he's warlord he's undoubtly very powerful."
"Your advise Yarrick?"
"With the aid of the Iron Skulls
and 8th company of the Death Angels knock them out with an enormous military
force in one decisive hammer blow."
"Thank you." von Strab said
and smiled. "Dismissed."
Sebastian got the shocked look again.
"B-but, you said that...the
foe..." he stuttered forth, completely taken aback by the order.
"You're my tactical ADVISOR,"
Herman and looked forgiving. "That doesn't mean I have to listen to you. Besides,
we can do this without any help, so don't even think the thought of sending out
a distress signal."
Sebastian stuttered forth something
unhearable and involuntarily reached for his holstered laspistol.
"I'd strongly recommend not doing
so, Yarrick. The exit's that way!" and with a gesture von Strab showed
were the door was.
Against his own will, Sebastian left
the Tactical Room, ignoring the salutes of the Arbiters. Once again he'd been incapable
of doing his duty. The governor had after all broken several Imperial Laws, Seb
was sure. In his mind, Sebastian kicked himself for being such a weakling. His
grandfather would have shot the brains out of von Strab without blinking. But
then again, his grandfather had been the military commander of Armageddon, not
von Strab. It was horrifying for Sebastian to realize he would never become as
great a commissar as his grandfather.
When Sebastian got home, he made
certain Charleston wasn't there and locked his door securely. After that, he called
Cerberus to his knee and as he hugged the big wolfhound, he started weeping
tears of shame.
Princeps
Mannheim didn't really listened to von Strab after Yarrick left, neither did
Holt. Both had been worried about the old man. In their ears, Seb's 'advise'
had sounded like a battle-plan especially made for this. Mannheim woke from his
daydream when his name was mentioned.
"Princeps, if the orks and
Berzerkers get through the jungle, which I doubt, do you think you can stop
them?" Herman asked.
"Of course, with support. But
shouldn't we do as Yarrick said?" Mannheim asked worriedly.
"Maybe, but what does he
know?" von Strab said with a shrug. The governor went back to explaining
his battle plan to the other officers.
"A fekking lot, it appears." Mannheim
thought to himself.
"Mannheim," von Strab broke
Mannheim's thoughts once again. "I want you to move north and engage the
enemy."
"Of course. With who?" the
princeps asked.
"Beg your pardon?" von Strab
said with a confused look. "With your Legion of course."
"Governor, don't say your thinking
on sending me up there alone, without infantry support?"
"What do you think,
princeps?" Herman said dryly.
Mannheim saw in von Strab's eyes that
the man was serious. This was madness. No Titan Legion could hold on it's own
against an entire enemy force without infantry support.
"Maybe we should listen to
Yarrick." Mannheim said and looked worried.
"Look here Kurtiz," von Strab
said, an undertone of annoyance in his voice. "On this planet I'm in
charge now, not the Yarrick family. It's been nearly a hundred years since
Commissar General Rolf Yarrick gave my family command of this planet. You do as
I say or you can got to Helsreach!"
"Yes milord." Mannheim said
as he realized the insanity that lurked inside von Strab and his orders. "I'll
go get ready."
In his mind, Mannheim thought on how to
tell his wife and children he'd never see them again.
Armageddon Prime, Tower of Doom Ruins 2
weeks later
It's dawn on Armageddon, a bloody dawn.
In the gloom of the ruins one can make out two figures. One huge and bulky and
the size of a dreadnought. The arms of the figure end one in a big gun and the
other in a pneumatic claw. The other figure, about two metres thirty, looks
like a Space Marine with the possible exception of the horns on his helmet and
the missing armour on his left arm. Suddenly, the power armour clad warrior
starts walking into the ruins.
"I still don' get why da zog we're
'ere Kharn!?" the bulky figure growled.
"Because I need to make myself
whole after all these years Ghazghkull." Kharn said and looked around. He'd
left it in it's pedestal, but where?
"Waddaya mean wiv 'ole
again?" Ghazghkull said and walked closer, the adamantium of his partially
metal skull glittering in the dawning light.
"Once, I had this planet in my
grasp, but I lost it. The Imperial lackeys shuns this area, so it's probably
gonna be here still."
"A weapun?" Ghazghkull asked
walking even closer.
"Yes, a very potent weapon." Kharn
realized Ghazghkull was getting dangerously close the edge. "Don't walk
any further!"
"Why not?" the huge Ork
Warlord asked in his deep voice.
"Because anyone who enters the
Arena I must challenge. Only four has ever escaped alive." Kharn went back
to searching.
"Which four wuz dat?"
"They were the Space Outlaws and
that Commissar I've told you about."
"Oh, dat
Yarrick..." Ghazghkull's voice trailed off. "I
fink 'Umie commissurrs have smart hats. Uzbex, a big boss uv mine, collects
'em."
"That's a nice hobby." Kharn
said as he started digging with his bare hands on a place.
"Ya nevvur nailed dat Yarrick, why
not?"
"'Cause he was a bit
slippery..." Kharn said as he dug deeper, cursing Armageddon and it's ash
wastes as well as the Yarricks.
"He's got a grandson though. Heard
he's quite an expert on orks." Kharn continued as he dug. Just a little
further...
"Is he a commissurr?" Ghazghkull
asked curiously.
"Yeah, but he's old now. Probably
won't fight much more, sorry to spoil the fun. Anyways, the Yarricks are
mine!"
"Righto Kharn." Ghazghkull
muttered and kicked a 15-kilo rock away a good hundred metres. After all Kharn
had told him about the Yarricks, Ghazghkull was quite hoping for a good fight. Seemed
impossible now, Kharn wanting the 'Umie for himself and the man being old. Ghazghkull
weren't an expert on humans, but he knew they began to leak when one punched
them too hard and that old humans broke much more easily. He remembered the
commissar he'd broken the back on and then trampled the old human's arm. It had
been very easy, Ghazghkull remembered. Old humans weren't fun.
"YESSSS!!" Kharn shouted as
he pulled forth his trusty old axe from beneath the sand. "Behold Warlord
Ghazghkull Thraka, the ultimate weapon!"
"Now dat's a zogging 'uge
choppa!" Ghazghkull shouted astonished.
"It's more than a 'choppa' my
friend. It's the most powerful deamon weapon in the galaxy! Deamon Lord Kharn,
welded it, second in power to the King of Deamons himself, Kharzhan! An Eldar
Craftworld had it, but the sissies were probably afraid of using it. I
liberated them of their burden and since then, the Axe of Khorne has been mine!
Once again, I'm made whole!!"
As Kharn's mad laughter echoed in the
ruins, Ghazghkull felt his green skin get prickly. There was something very
wrong with this human.
"'Oo made da choppa?" Ghazghkull
finally asked.
"Huh?"
"Wot's da name of da mek wot made
dat choppa?" Ghazghkull repeated.
"This weapon my friend, was forged
by the best smith through time, but also the bane of all deamons. It was forged
with hatred, the very essence of the deamons. Still, it's not as potent as
Kharzhan's personal blade, but it's second best..."
"'Oo da zog made it Kharn!?"
Kharn eyes turned hard on Ghazghkull.
"Why do you want to know?"
the Berzerker Lord said in a low, whispering tone.
Ghazghkull found no answer on the
question so he decided to leave it at that. Something else took his attention. An
Ork Nob was shouting something on orkish.
"What does he want
Ghazghkull?" Kharn asked.
"Boss Tufzog sez somefing about
'Umie Gargants."
"Titans," Kharn muttered to
himself. "Any suppport?"
Ghagzhkull yelled something unintelligible
back to Tufzog, who replied just as oddly.
"No, no suppurt."
Kharn smiled to himself. "By the
Throne of Skulls, they're more stupid than I thought."
Infernus Hive, a week after the
destruction of the Iron Skulls Titan Legion and loss of Death Mire hive
"Lord Astropath Zebulon, you must
send out the distress signal!" Sebastian nearly begged the psyker to do
it. Armageddon Prime was nearly lost, and the loss of Hive Tempestora would
prove a serious blow towards the forces of the Imperium. The tank factories in
Tempestora was all that stood between the Imperial forces and total destruction
on Prime, and Sebastian wouldn't such a minor thing as an order from the
governor keep him from saving billion lives.
"Sorry commissar, but without
clearance from the governor or an inquisitor, I can't send out the psychic
distress beacon. Laws, you know." Zebulon replied with a gesture of
sadness.
"Don't you understand!? Armageddon
is being destroyed because of the governor and I don't trust the Inquisition
for two seconds!" Sebastian shouted, feeling agitated.
"Commissar Yarrick, maybe it is
you who don't understand?" Zebulon said and stood up, his skeleton like
frame wrapped in green robes. "I have my creeds and edicts to follow, just
as you do. Mine, on the other hand, are there for my colleagues and my own
security."
"Believe me Zebulon, if you don't
do as I say, you won't leave Armageddon alive..." Sebastian muttered
between clenched teeth.
"Is that a threat,
commissar?" the two metres tall psyker-skeleton said.
"No, a fact." Sebastian
replied with a steely gaze. The Astropath seemed to understand and sat down.
"Right, I'll send out a distress
signal. But beware, an Inquisitor may pick it up and wonder what's wrong."
Sebastian sat down on a chair a good
ten metres away from the psyker. He felt so uncomfortable in their proximity. He
realized his skin had turned to goose flesh and tried to shake of the feeling. Sebastian
felt something heavy land in his knee and saw that Cerberus rested his big,
furry head in his lap. The big wolfhound didn't like psykers either it seemed. Seb
gently stroke Cerberus' grizzled fur, remembering when he'd gotten the dog as a
pup. It had made him forget for many years his grandfather and that horrible
day. He'd fled to Armageddon after completing his Commissar's training to
forget, and Cerberus had helped him somewhat. But one day he'd stumbled upon a
statue of his grandfather in Volcanus Hive. Sebastian had been 28 at that time,
new to his duty, assigned to a Steel Legion nicknamed the Armadillos after the
creatures out in the Wastelands. He'd fallen to his knees and wept as he
remembered what he'd done when he saw the statue of the Liberator of
Armageddon, The Wolf, Commissar General Rolf Yarrick. Since that day, Sebastian
had never for one day forgotten his "mistake".
Suddenly, Cerberus raised his head so
quickly it made Seabstian start. A low growl came from the hound's throat. Seb
knew immediately what was happening.
"They're here..." he said
quietly to himself, considering how good his odds were if he were to...? Sebastian
shook his head and banished the thought. It would only get him into more
trouble.
"Nearly done..." the
Astropath mumbled, Seb glancing towards him, quickly regretting it, seeing that
Zebulon seemed more skeletal than ever, blood dripping from the psyker's nose. The
taste of metal was in the air because of the psychic powers. Cerberus bark woke
Seb from his daily nightmare as he'd watched the psyker. Seconds later, a squad of Arbiters broke into
the room, armed with combat shotguns. After them came their Judge.
"Commissar Yarrick!" the
Judge called. "You're under arrest for breaking Article 3543, Section 6;
Disobeyment of superior order!"
"What!?" was all that
Sebastian got out, grabbing good hold on Cerberus, who'd spotted a
cyber-mastiff amongst the Arbiters.
"Do not attempt to flee, it will
only make it worse." the Judge said in a calm voice.
"The only superior I have is the
Emperor of Mankind!" Sebastian shouted as two Arbiters disarmed him and
put handcuffs on him.
"Wrong!" a voice called from
the corridor. Sebastian knew it too well.
"As long as you're here Yarrick,
I'm your superior." von Strab said and stood himself before Sebastian. He
spotted the clearly pissed Cerberus and took a few steps backwards.
"Do something about that wolf
too!" von Strab ordered the Arbiters. One tried to put a mouth buckle on
Cerberus, but ended with a very bloody arm instead.
"Get them Cerberus!" Sebastian
shouted. The old wolfhound jumped on the cyber-mastiff and tore the robot-dog's
head from its body. Cerberus was about to jump on another Arbiter, when the
Judge pulled his hell pistol and shot.
"NO!" the old commissar
screamed as the powerful laser shot hit his old friend in the side, throwing
him to the floor. Bashing himself free from the two Arbiters that were holding
him, Sebastian rushed to his dog's side. This couldn't be true...
"Fekking bastards!" Seb mumbled
to himself, feeling anger inside himself he hadn't felt for many years. "I
hope for your sake judge, that he isn't dead! Because if he is..."
"He's stunned." the Arbiter
Judge cut him off. "Do you really think I would kill an innocent animal? Only
humans make mistakes."
"You're making one right now,
following von Strab's orders!" Sebastian growled. "Wait till Holt
hears about this!"
"There's no need in wasting your
phone call on me, Yarrick. I'm already here." Holt said calmly as he
entered. "I've heard all of it, and I'm sorry to say it, but Yarrick, you
have disobeyed a direct order from the planetary governor of Armageddon. There's
not much I can do about it, either."
"Right," Sebastian said and
looked the present men over. "I'm coming with you, but firstly I want to
know what's going to happen to me."
"You're going to be banished from
Infernus Hive." von Strab answered him. "I can't have you executed,
that would cause some raised eyebrows, so I'm sending you off to Hades Hive. I
heard you were born there, so why not spend some time there again, no?"
"Do I have a choice?" Sebastain
replied and met von Strab with a steady, steely gaze. With that the Arbiters
left, carrying Cerberus with them. Von Strab and Holt stayed in the Astropath
Chamber. Zebulon looked up at them.
"Did Yarrick manage to send a
signal?" Herman queried.
"No, and I had the Astropath Creed
on my side." Zebulon replied calmly and quietly. This tone made both Holt
and von Strab shrug.
"Good." von Strab said and
left with Holt.
As the metal doors closed with a hiss,
Zebulon smiled to himself.
"No, Yarrick didn't send a signal.
I did." the Astropath said to himself.
And with that he closed his eyes and
entered the Immaterium to send another distress signal, focused on a special
mind.
Hades Hive Spire Space Port, 2 days
later, Hive Tempestora under siege
Sebastian wasn't welcomed by cheering
crowds when the Thunderhawk landed in Hades. Instead, the spaceport seemed
rather dead. Not a man as far as he could see.
"Let's go," Seb said to
Cerberus after a moment of silence. Cerberus was sporting a bandage around his
ribs where he'd been shot, being lucky that las-weapons fuse the flesh together
after they'd hit. That the shot hadn't been so powerful had saved him too. Though
it had been enough to throw Cerberus off his paws.
The two walked for a few minutes until
a voice called their attention.
"Commissar Yarrick! Good to see
you here!" a man called. He was thickset and seemed to be in his early
fifties, his hair beginning to grey at his temples. Though the man was
thickset, he was still a good ten centimetres taller than Sebastian. Seb
recognized him immediately.
"Michael Atris!" Seb
exclaimed. "What brings you here?" the commissar asked, although he
already knew the answer.
"You, who else?" Atris said
as he joined Seb and Cerberus. "When I heard you were going to be banished
here, I sighed in relief, in fact."
"I see," Sebastian said and
the two men and the dog walked off towards a turbo-lift that would take them to
a lower level in the Spire. As they entered the lift and it began taking them
down the nearly two miles to the level where Sebastian had been assigned to
live. It was in the Upper Levels, not far from Hive Hades Ruler's home, but
still, Hades was notorious for it's many gangs. There was a long moment of
silence until Atris broke it.
"Going
with light luggage I see," he said, indicating Seb's lone bag. It was a
standard issue Imperial Guard equipment bag. It was made from a durable textile
in black, with a gold Imperial Eagle on it together with the text:
Imperial Commissar Sebastian Yarrick
"The Emperor knows, the Emperor watches"
The
motto was probably sewn into place later than the rest, Artis could tell.
"I weren't really allowed to pack
down my entire home. This bag was all I managed to get with me." Seb said
and looked at the Hive Ruler.
"And your weapons, I see." Artis
said and looked down on the chain sword hanging from a chain underneath
Sebastian's Ordo Imperialis on his left side. On his right side, his laspistol
was sitting in its holster. Sebastian seemed armed and ready for battle, which
was much the case.
"Out of pure curiosity, what is in
that bag of yours, Sebastian?"
"Clothes, of course," Seb
began. "Some extra tunics and breeches, data-slates containing information
about Orks and Berzerkers, and of course my family gems."
"Orks and Berzerkers?" Artis
asked, sounding surprised, which he was.
"So you don't know what we're
facing? Armageddon is facing an all out invasion of Berzerkers and Orks. This
makes Kharn's last assaults seem like walks through the park. And we're having
an incompetent Commander. Great..." Sebastian sighed and fell silent.
"He won't listen to you,
right?" Artis said and looked softly on the old commissar with his blue
eyes. Sebastian wished he could meet Artis with the same soft eyes, but he
couldn't.
"He's incompetent to the extreme,
Michael. And it's all because he's a full-blood aristocrat. His father Luthor,
may the Emperor watch over his soul, had worked hard to get his title, but not
by assassinating his brothers and father, like Herman. Luthor worked his way
hard to make his father understand he was the most suitable inheritor of the
throne of Armageddon."
"You still believe that Herman was
behind the murders, Sebastian?"
"Of course. I wonder why Holt
hasn't nailed him? He's got sufficient proof." Sebastian said and
scratched his cheek. He hadn't shaved this morning; there hadn't been time for
such.
"Maybe he's being bribed?" Artis
suggested. Seb gave him a shocked look, like what he said was more than
impossible.
"I mean," Artis explained
"Holt's only human, after all. You can never know."
"Of course." Sebastian
replied as the elevator slowed down to a halt and they walked out. Seb saw the enormous
plaza he was going to live beside under the conflict. There were much people
here, seemed to be some sort of market day. Around the hexahedral plaza, dozens
of levels of habs raised up into the Spire. The outside of all hives was just a sort of shell. On the inside
several smaller 'hives' were. Seb was now standing on one of the levels of one
of these mini-hives, looking down at the plaza a hundred metres below him. He
felt a nearly boyish urge to spit down on the crowds below to see if he could
hit someone, but restrained from doing so. Walking away from the railing Seb
fixed on the huge crystal tree in the middle of the plaza. It looked like one
of our oaks but it was about a hundred times larger. Seb couldn't remember that
it had been here last time he'd been in Hades. As he watched, a paper-thin
crystal leaf fell down in the water of the artificial lake that surrounded the
tree. It was mechanical, Sebastian thought. It HAD to be mechanical.
"What do you think of our Elysian
Crystal Oak?" Artis said and smiled. "It's a real tree, if you
wonder."
"It's biological?" Seb said
astounded. "I thought it had to be mechanical or some sort of
biotech."
"It's neither. It's a living
crystal. There are many such things on Elysion. Most remarkable are the
Sapphire Rays and the Ruby Lizards. They're protected by Imperial Law and can't
be brought off-planet, but the Crystal Oaks aren't. This one was taken from
Elysion maybe thousands of years ago and has stood here since. It's as hard as
diamond, so not even a Leman Russ could blast it apart."
"Yes, I've heard of the crystal
planet." Sebastian said and pulled away his eyes from the oak and started
walking again. "Believe my grand-father was there some time. He brought
home an Emerald Raven. I think he had permission for it, of course."
"Bet he had. He was an Imperial
Commissar General, and such have pull. Did it survive long?"
"Not long, I believe Callidus sun
was too much for it. As it was a crystal animal, it turned quite stiff. It's
one of the gems I have with me."
There was another long pause of
silence, broken by the murmur of the crowd far down below. This time, however,
Sebastian broke the silence.
"Artis, I must ask you of a
favour." Seb said in a troubled voice.
"Go ahead, commissar."
"Can you put every working man on
reinforcing the blast doors and the Shell? After that, I want to have a list of
every man here who's got experience, either in the Imperial Guard, the PDF or
in the Gangs. Make that every man and woman, above eighteen."
"Ay, ay Commissar." Artis answered
with a smart salute. "I understand, I've been in the Navy, many years
ago."
"Artis, you haven't been closer to
the Black Sea of space than a bathtub." Sebastian snapped.
Tempestora Hive, the same afternoon
"Say again, Commander?" Captain
Mikos of the 8th Assault Company said to his commander over the roar of the
Gargant siege guns.
"I said: fall back and take as
many civilians with you as possible!" Charleston roared back over the
storming guns.
"Why, sir?" Mikos said and
raised a questioning eyebrow. Mikos was around fifty years old but had a
childlike face and yellowish hair. He looked quite young had it not been for
the numerous scars on his face.
"We're abandoning the Hive! Tempestora
is dead! I'm not even doing this on the Overlord's orders. I'm acting as the
Emperor wants!"
"That's why we don't have any
support?" Mikos asked as the two blasted off up in the sky with their
jump-packs and landed on a roof. Fifteen Marines with gold-helmets followed
them. They were Mikos and Charleston's Honour Guard, the personal bodyguard of
Death Angel commanders and officers, the absolute elite of warriors and often
equipped with jump-packs and the best weaponry the Imperium can offer.
"Yep." Charleston simply
replied as the landed and surveyed the battle tearing apart Hive Tempestora
from above. The Berzerkers weren't many, and that troubled Charleston. Kharn
allying with some other force wasn't uncommon, but the few Berzerker squads
he'd met and gotten reported over the helmet vox-links was bothering. Why so
few? There weren't even any trace of the Terminators that Kharn had under
command. Something was fishy with this entire invasion. He had to get to Seb as
soon as possible and tell him about this. That something wasn't right. Sebastian
didn't have his grandfather's sixth sense of knowing what Kharn was up to. He
didn't have the personal grudge, but still had a good reason for one...
"Mikos, there should be some
Thunderhawks left up in the Spire that the nobles houses left behind. I'm going
to pull out with the forces down here and salvage as many civilians as
possible. You take the Honour Guard and take the Thunderhawks up in the Spire,
with force from the nobles, if needed. Cram the Thunderhawks full of people,
preferably workers, we'll need tank-constructors and weapons-manufacturers, not
nobs."
"Yes sir!" Mikos said,
saluted and with a simple order, the fifteen Honour Guard followed him as he
put jump-pack on full blast and flew up into the Spire.
Charleston watched his aide fly upwards, but there was no sign of relief on his
face. Rather the opposite. Mikos was young, for a Space Marine, and eager to
prove himself. Charleston could bet he wanted to be transferred to one of the
Battle Companies instead of 8th, which was a Reserve Company after all. But it
hadn't been used like one lately. The numerous battles it was used in were
because McGranth had begun using startlingly aggressive tactics. McKenzie
couldn't be behind it, Charleston thought. McKenzie had his hands full of
Genestealers and that Magos Grimjaw, who'd returned from death, in some odd
way. McKenzie ranting about this wasn't worth listening to, Charleston had
thought.
"Good luck, Brother Mikos." Charleston
said and flew away down towards the hab-level plaza where some of the fiercest
fighting was being done. As he flew over the plaza, he saw another squad of
Berzerkers. God-Emperor, they had spread out. But still, the sixteen Berzerkers
were just red spots in a sea of green-hided Orks. 'Like my boys.' Charleston
thought darkly to himself. The Death Angels were so hopelessly outnumbered. They
hadn't suffered heavy causalities, but where slowly being pushed back as wave
after wave of Orks came storming. Charleston landed in the thick of the
fighting, power sword and plasma pistol at the ready.
It was like being hit by a heat wave,
the stench of the Orks were overwhelming. McKenzie often complained about
Charleston's lack in personal hygiene. That was like nothing compared to the
rotten stench from the Orks, their teeth yellow and their breaths vile like a
predator's. One of them jumped at Charleston, only to be cut in half by the
huge Marine. Charleston was probably the tallest Marine ever, bar the Emperor
himself, but still the Orks were a good 2 metres tall. And the more powerful an
Ork was, the bigger he seemed to get. Charleston had listened to Sebastian and
Ishmael's conversation about the Ork the size of a Dreadnought walker. Charleston
shrugged slightly at the thought of facing that beast.
Before he knew what had happened, he'd
carved a path through the Orks and, followed by twenty Marines, he now stood
face-to-face with the Ork Warboss, which commanded this warband. The bodyguards
themselves were the size of a normal Marine, some of them clad in that mega
armour Seb had talked about. With a mighty roar the Angels of Death and the
Orks charged each other. The Orks that weren't dressed in mega armour fell
quickly to the chain swords of the Marines. But before Charleston knew what was
happening, the Orks seemed to get the upper hand. The chain swords couldn't
pierce the thick armour of the remaining bodyguard, and the snipping
power-claws of the Orks cut down the Marines as nothing. Feeling the anger
burning inside of him of the loss of his brother-warriors, Charleston charged
the Warboss, which had just beheaded Sergeant Young with its big, crude
chain-axe. The Ork swung at him with incredible speed, but Charleston ducked
away. The chain-axe tore of his helmet instead, which was dangling from the
mag-chain in Charleston's belt.
"For that, I'll take your helmet
instead, Ork-scum!!" Charleston roared. The Warboss was wearing a big,
black helmet with huge horns on it.
"No, yoo won't Oomie! Dis iz a
Waaagh! All Oomies die!! Da
red deamon 'as said so!" the Warboss roared as he plunged his chain-axe in
a wide arc, trying to catch Charleston in it's reach. Charleston was shocked on
hearing an alien, a crude and savage Ork for the matter; speak Low Gothic,
though he had obvious problems with pronunciation. He thought he ducked and
evaded slashes and swings from that huge chain-axe for five minutes before he
saw a drop in the warboss' guard. Ramming his power sword deep into the chest
of the Ork, Charleston pulled himself close to the Ork's face and hissed:
"See your deamon gods in hell! This
planet belongs to the Emperor and not Kharn!"
With that Charleston put all his weight
on the sword and forced it downward, carving open the Ork from chest cavity to
groin. As Charleston pulled out the sword with a powerful jerk, the Ork Warboss
still stood up for half a minute, before falling over. Stone dead.
Picking up the warboss' helmet and
putting it on his own head, Charleston looked around. He fended of another Ork
deftly and, using the vox-link hanging on his ear, he ordered all the Marines
to fall back using pattern Omega7. That was a fall back technique only used by
the 8th Company of the Death Angels.
"That should surprise them."
he thought and yelling the order to fall back, flew out of the combat and took
flight to the Shuttle Bays on Hab-level 23. The entire of the 8th Company
followed him as a whole. The Orks, to confused or to surprised, didn't pursue. The
Berzerkers, on the other hand, had their orders. This was all going according
to plan...
Infernus Hive, 6 days later
Overlord Herman von Strab was looking
through some reports on data-slates, when Commander Charleston burst into his
office. The big Marine hadn't even bothered to remove his armour, though he had
been smart enough to take off the jump-pack. On Charleston's face was a look of
anger, perfectly well qualifying him for 'Most Disgruntled Person of the Year'.
von Strab understood the man's temper quite well. The reports he'd read from
Tempestora were disheartening.
"It's lost!" Charleston said
after standing quiet for a few minutes. "Armageddon Prime is lost, and you
know why, dontcha?"
"I wasn't prepared for an assault
this size, Commander." Herman replied, looking up from the data-slate he
was reading.
"As fekk you were!" Charleston
snapped. "There has been plenty of bad omens recently! Most notably the
statue of the Emperor in Helsreach's Prime Church wept bloody tears just before
the day of the Feast!"
"I haven't been informed about
it."
"Oh, you have, by Commissar
Yarrick even! You've just chosen to ignore him!" Charleston growled. If he
just had the authority to remove Herman from his position, but only a Grand
Commander or Commissar could perform such an act. Thinking of commissars, where
was Seb?
"Speaking of the same,"
Charleston said in a milder tone. "Where is he?"
"Commissar Yarrick? I banished him
to Hades Hive." von Strab answered without as much as blinking or looking
up from the report. Seemed Hive Monitor Artis was up to something, reinforcing
his blast-doors and Hive Shell.
"You what?" Charleston asked
shocked.
"I banished him to Hades Hive
because he disobeyed a direct order from me." Herman said and looked up
again. "As a matter of fact, I had thought of executing the bastard, but
Holt got me on other thoughts."
"Executing!?" Charleston
shouted in surprise. "If you'd had him shot, I'd kill ya with me bare
hands!"
"That is the punishment for
disobeying orders, the same for deserting the Guard, Yarrick should know. He's
a commissar."
What followed von Strab words was an
uneasy silence. The last sentence had taken Charleston aback. He was in a loss
of words. von Strab was crazy, that was clear. And that Holt, he seemed to
cover the governor's back, but why? He was a commissar, just like Sebastian. Charleston
finally came up with what to say.
"I just wanted to inform you,
governor, that the enemy forces will probably go through the Jungle soon, so
I'd recommend you to move your HQ." "They'll never make it through
the Jungle, Lieutenant Commander. Never. It's too damn thick."
"You think so? It takes my scouts
one month to move through the jungle on foot, and they're rookie Marines. How
long time, or for that sake short time won't it take an army of veteran
Berzerkers and Orks to move through it?"
With that, Charleston left the office.
von Strab was left in deep contemplation.
"Maybe he's right." he said
to himself. "Maybe I should move my HQ to some other Hive. Acheron, for
example. Yes, Acheron's good."
Reaching with his finger to the vox-channel to inform his secretary,
hestitating for a moment, but then pressing it, Herman called:
"Miss Renton, get me Commissar
Holt. I want to talk to him."
Settling back in his big office chair,
lighting a cigar, he thought on what was happening in Hades Hive. What was
Artis up to? Then it struck him what was happening. It struck him like a
lightning bolt and Herman spat out the cigar.
"YARRICK!" he shouted
hoarsely.
Infernus Hive, 4 months later
The Berzerker assault came swift, they
poured out of the Equatorial Jungle like a blood red sea. One thousand warriors
of Khorne; a full company of Space Marines. Charleston saw them come at dawn. A
swift army, mounted on bikes and in Rhino transports. Some even were riding in
the fearsome Land Raider tanks, the worst of the tanks the Imperium could
produce. He didn't, wouldn't believe his eyes when he saw the flashes of light
from the jump-pack equipped Berzerkers. Raptors, they were called. Rare sight,
those Berzerker Raptors. Raising the magnoculars to his eyes and zooming in he
saw Kharn at the front, wearing his own jump-pack. Charleston remembered he'd
found brothers of the 8th without jump-packs, snatched by the Berzerkers to use
on their own. Charleston felt the spite rising in his throat at the thought of
the vandalized suits of armour, belonging to the dead.
"Good thing we managed to evacuate
the Hive." he thought to himself. "So many civilian lives we left at
Tempestora makes me queasy."
Seeing the Berzerker army come to a
halt at the very gates of Infernus Hive surprised Charleston a bit. But it also
gave him a ray of hope.
"It won't be so here, this war
ends with Infernus."
Down on the
ground, Kharn walked forward, the mighty Axe of Khorne in his hand. He was
going to give that fool Charleston a chance on surrendering and joining him. The
time they'd taken on waiting out the Imperials was going to pay off. The long
time had probably made their guard slacken. Kharn hoped so at least.
"Lieutenant Commander Charleston!!
Show me your face, you Imperial worm!" Kharn shouted up towards the
barricade facing him. His shout was amplified by the helmet's vox-system. Those
words made his soldiers feel better, Kharn knew. Some were newly converted, the
colour of their old Legions shining through the gore and gold colour of the
Berzerkers Horde, so they needed proof they were the only real warriors. All
others were worms.
"Whaddya want, ya little piece of
traitor dung!?" Charleston snapped back. Kharn scanned the rows of Marines
up on the barricade and soon found Charleston. He was standing a head taller than the others.
"Charleston, I give you one last
chance. Join my forces, and we'll crush this pathetic Imperium ruled by a
carcass!" Kharn did with a lively gesture.
"Go to Helsreach!" Charleston
snapped.
"I'm just telling you the truth,
brother warrior. What can this Imperium offer you, which Khorne can't? Battles,
that is what a Space Marine lives for. What do you think will happen to you and
all other Marines, when universal peace is acquired? You won't be needed any
more. They'll get rid of you."
"I'm not so stupid I'll fall for
that one. The Emperor can offer me ten times as much as your fallen god."
"It's the truth, lieutenant! You
call us renegades, but we're Marines who've seen the light, who understand what
will happen with us when we're not needed any more."
"There is always wars for us
Marines to fight, and don't call me brother! Traitor!"
'Boy, he's slow.' Kharn thought darkly
to himself. 'I called him that half a minute ago.'
"Think of it Charleston! You
wouldn't need to serve under incompetent commanders any more. You'd be your own
commander."
"It's no use Kharn. I know your
tricks. Your honey-coated tongue can't shake my faith in the Emperor of
Mankind. He created this Imperium and he created us! We will succeed!"
"No you won't!" Kharn
shouted, losing his temper. He showed Charleston the axe so the dumb loyalist
could clearly see the power Kharn held.
"See this, Charleston? See this!?
It's the Axe of Khorne! I had it once, but it was taken away from me by those
pesky Omega Squadron Outlaws and Commissar General Yarrick, but what did that
do for good? I have it once again; I'm made whole again! With this Daemon
Weapon, welded once by Daemon Lord Kharn Fleshtearer himself, King Kharzhan's
right hand, I am invincible! It's the most powerful weapon in the galaxy and
with it in my hands nothing can stop me!! Not the Imperial Guard, not the Legio
Titanicus, not the Adeptus Astartes, not you, not Yarrick!!"
Charleston slowly realized his mistake.
Keeping a steady gaze on Kharn, he whispered in his vox-link to Mikos.
"Take half of eighth and get the
fekk out of here. The renegade is right. We don't stand a damned chance against
him now."
"So, what it's gonna be
Charleston!?" Kharn shouted. "Surrender or prepare for your death at
the hand of the Axe of Khorne. Or should that be the Axe of Kharn!?"
"Kharn," Charleston called
down. "If you're going to take this Hive, it's going to over my dead
body!"
"My pleasure," Kharn thought
grimly. "That can be arranged, worm! CHARGE!!!!!"
Kharn's roar was out-classed by the
mighty "Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!!" that
was shouted from the lips of every Berzerker as the gore-coloured horde stormed
against Infernus Hive.
"Oh Emperor," Charleston
whispered in his vox-link to his warriors. "May You hath mercy on our
Souls and guide them to Your side..."
Then the Battle for Infernus Hive
begun. A battle in which centuries of hatred erupted as the Angels of Death and
the Berzerkers of Khorne clashed in the streets of the Hive. Charleston and
Kharn never met, but their warriors did, and around a hundred Marines on each
side fell before Charleston abandoned the Hive. Kharn ordered his men to hold. They'd
taken what they'd come for.
Two days after Infernus Hive was taken
by the Berzerkers, the chandelier in Infernus Opera house was torn down and
destroyed.
Hades Hive 4 days later
Commissar Sebastian Yarrick looked out
the great view-port of Hades Hive and saw the sea of green skinned warriors
outside. They camped on both sides of the river Euminedes. It seemed quite
weird that a sea of green being broken by a nearly grey river. He'd received
messages from the Orks in the shape of captured humans, probably from Volcanus
or Tempestora, humans with their hands or eyes cut out, some poor fellows even had
gotten into the way of the Ork Meks. Some of those had minor bionic implants
and some extreme cases had grot-braintransplants. They all carried the same
message with them: Surrender or die!
The first one to come in with that
message had been Colonel Archer. He was taken care of now, medics tending him
every minute.
Looking away from the horde outside,
Sebastian sighed. They would attack soon he knew so. The siege guns of the
Gargants had silenced, which meant the Orks were preparing for an attack. Sebastian
had seen a huge banner pole out in the green sea and read the glyphs on it. This
was an army belonging to an Ork Warlord named Ugulhard. Seb had heard of
Ugulhard's Chargers. Their Warlord, Ugulhard, was notorious for his assaults,
but Ugulhard bowing down before another Ork Warlord, that meant this Ghazghkull
Thraka held power indeed. Ugulhard also had a big Ork Battle-claw, very much
like the power-claws, but of an older design.
A messenger tore Sebastian from his
thoughts.
"Excuse me Commissar Yarrick, but
I have some messages for you." the young boy said. Seb guessed he could be
older than eighteen and he probably wouldn't survive the war. Sebastian
swallowed hard at the thought.
"Thanks," Seb said as he
received them. He handed the boy fifteen Imperial credits as a tip. The boy
lightened up at the money and bowed deeply and ran off. Seb looked after him a
long while until he opened the messages. The first one was from Ishmael. He had
written that Holt had called him back to duty, as all commissars available were
needed. He'd been stationed in Helsreach Hive to serve with the PDF and Lord
General Terhune. He also wrote that an enormous Ork force was coming to
Helsreach, but he'd never let Helreach fall. The entire of Helreach population,
10 billions all in all, had volunteered to defend their homes. He wished Sebastian luck and was sorry for
that he'd been banished. There was also post scriptum:
"I'd check on Holt if I were you. He's
been acting strange lately and he's grown gaunt in his appearance." it
read.
"Good luck to you, old
friend." Seb mumbled to himself, as if IG was in psychic communion with
him. 10 billion, that was more than the 5 billions that Hades population were,
and still, only a million had military training in any form. Sebastian sighed.
There had to be the same number of Orks out there. That he was sure of.
The other message was from Charleston. Charleston
had obviously written it in a hurry, so his messages, which were usually hard
to read, nearly became impossible to read. There were misspellings everywhere. But
Seb could make out what he meant. Charleston and the whole of 8th was speeding
to Hades Hive in their Thunderhawks, and would probably be there in six or
seven hours.
"If we're still alive then
Ed." Seb said and closed the data-slate with a snap. He walked out of the
office and took the turbo-lift to the ground levels. He'd managed to keep Atris
out of going into battle by saying the Hive Monitor was needed elsewhere. He
also needed someone to look after Cerberus. Cerberus had fought against many
foes through time, but he was wounded and Sebastian didn't wan't to lose his
best friend.
When Yarrick stepped out of the
elevator, he seemed to have changed in appearance. At least the welders at the
blast-doors thought so. They had met an old man, shortened by age, slightly
built and with slumped shoulders. What stepped out of the elevator was the most
fearsome commissar they'd ever had seen. They knew it was Commissar Yarrick though;
the blue-grey hair was hard to miss even though he was wearing his peaked cap. He
just seemed to have gotten taller, more muscular and broad-shouldered. They
just didn't understand how it made sense, such a transformation of a human. Sebastian
walked up to the colonel of the Hive Defence Force who'd been supervising the
soldiers and organized them into companies as they'd arrived.
"Are we ready, Colonel
Logan?" Sebastian asked the tall colonel.
"As ready as can be. We'll take anything
those Orks throw against us." Logan replied with a grin.
"I really hope so..." Sebastian
said and turned on his chain-sword. He always had his sword hanging from his
left side, even though he was left-handed. But Imperial Commissars' uniforms
were made for right-handed people, with the pistol holster always sitting on
the right side. Seb didn't like it. It was making things difficult, but beggers
can't be choosers. He was brought from thoughts by the shouts of warning from a
watchtower.
"Now it begins..." Sebastian
said in a whisper. "The Battle for Armageddon."
The two forces met in a hideous roar of
guns and screams of dying and wounded. Sebastian parried and slashed with his
chain-sword. Each cut brought down a green-skinned beast. The soldiers saw the
old man fight for the Imperium with vigour they didn't think possible, but it
brought hope to their hearts and they attacked Orks with their lasguns and
bayonets. Sebastian was far from the only commissar present. He didn't
understand how, but after fifteen minutes of fierce hand-to-hand, he was joined
by four other commissars, all of them belonging to Armageddon's Commissariat,
all of them younger then him, but they fought with experience and they formed a
black spear that drove deep into the Ork horde. But as sudden as the young
commissars had joined him, they disappeared. Sebastian didn't want to think on
why.
'The moment you start to count the
cost, is the moment you fail.' he thought to himself.
Warlord
Ugulhard was cutting through humans with his big battle-claw when he saw
Commissar Yarrick. He'd heard from Grand Warlord Ghazghkull that Yarrick had
been banished for contradicting his leader's orders. Ghazghkull had also said
that the Red Deamon wanted the Yarrick for himself.
'Wut da zog?' Ugulhard thought. 'I'ze will kill da Oomie now. Why does da Red Deamun
want dat old Oomie for?'
Ordering his driver to drive towards
the old commissar, Ugulhard readied himself to disembark from the warbuggie. As
he reached Yarrick, Ugulhard threw himself at the old man with a bestial roar. Sebastian,
being not as quick as his grandfather, but quick none-the-less, ducked
Ugulhard's first attack with ease. The battle-claw flew towards him five, six, seven
times, Sebastian ducking it every time. But when the eighth swing came,
Sebastian jumped to the left, but felt a cutting pain in his right arm.
Ugulhard had caught his right arm by
the elbow with the claw and cut it right off! The pneumatic claw had gone
through bone and muscle like a hot knife through butter. Sebastian just stared
at the stump that once had been his right arm; the blood was spurting out from
the wound. When he saw the rest of his arm lying on the ground, the pain seemed
to reach him finally.
Screaming with pain, Sebastian went
down on his knees, clutching his severed arm with his left hand. He heard
Ugulhard's mad laughter and victory shout, as if the Ork had killed him. Yarrick
couldn't believe it. This couldn't be true. It couldn't be true. It couldn't,
wouldn't end like this. He'd always thought he'd die of age or in the field of
battle, but not like this, not like this! The Iron Will of his family pumping
in his veins together with the hatred he held towards anything alinged with
Kharn, made it possible for him to shut out the pain. Grabbing hold of his
chain-sword and staggering up to a standing position, fighting the shock and
pain like no normal man, Sebastian Yarrick, Imperial Commissar and Warrior of
the Emperor, looked Warlord Ugulhard in the eyes. The Ork looked shocked back
at the old man. He thought he'd killed the human.
"You can destroy our homes, you
can murder our loved ones," Sebastian panted forth, putting the
chain-sword in highest gear, making the motor scream as it pulled round the
adamantium toothed chain. "But we'll defend our honour and homes no matter
the cost! We will never forgive, never surrender!!"
With that, Sebastian brought the
chain-sword about in a wide, crimson arc, severing Ugulhard's bony, green head
from his body. The head sneered at the old man for a moment until the
creature's metabolism conceded he was dead.
Sebastian breathed hard in and out a
couple of times until he calmly reached down and loosened the battle-claw from
Ugulhard's twitching body. It was hard with one arm, but he managed. As he was
bent down when he loosened the straps of the claw, he didn't see the
Thunderhawks landing behind the Imperial force. Pulling off the claw from
Ugulhard's arm, straining every muscle in his old body to lift it, Sebastian
showed the battle-claw to all the warriors present, Ork as human. The
battlefield fell silent. Human and Ork as one gazed at the old man, standing on
Ugulhard's body, holding a battle-claw a third of his height above his head. There
was another moment of silence before the Ork horde fled; wailing in terror as
they realized their leader had fallen. The human army attacked the Orks with
renewed vigour and now finally Sebastian saw the Space Marines amongst them. As
the Orks were beaten from Hades Hive, Sebastian Yarrick finally allowed himself
to pass out.
Charleston ran
the fastest he could through the thick of humans. He sometimes flew short
distances with his jump-pack. He had to find Sebastian, he knew the commissar
in some way was behind the Orks so suddenly fleeing. The sudden silence he'd at
first thought come because his force had arrived and surprised both HDF and
Orks. But such wasn't the case. It had been Seb who'd caused the silence, but
how.
"Lieutenant Commander, over
here!" a Space Marine Apothecary, the Marines equalient of a medic, called
him.
Charleston flew over to the apothecary
with a few jumps and landed. What he saw he didn't want to believe. Ugulhard's
beheaded corpse, Sebastian's right arm and Seb himself lying on top of
Ugulhard's body. The claw had slipped out of his hand and was lying on the
ground beside Ugulhard's body. The apothecary walked up to Sebastian's body and
checked it. He put on a field dressing over the stump, to make it stop
bleeding, but as he put his hand on the old man's chest, he pulled it back. Charleston
wasn't watching, he was studying Ugulhard's claw and weighing it in his hands. Seb
probably wanted to keep it. Charleston was still wearing the helmet from
Temperstora that he'd nicked from the warboss. Sebastian liked trophies, but
Charleston wasn't entirely sure that Sebastian wanted to be reminded of this. He
decided to bring the claw with him so Seb could decide himself. "Sir?"
the apothecary asked, holding his hand over Sebastian's face as thinking on
putting it down.
Charleston looked up from his thoughts.
"What?" he asked.
"Sir, Commissar Yarrick,
he..." the apothecary hesitated. "He doesn't breathe."
Charleston looked shocked at the
apothecary. What had the man said?
"He doesn't what?" Charleston
said shocked, almost dropping the heavy claw on his feet.
"Commissar Yarrick doesn't
breathe, sir." the apothecary replied, a slight tone of sadness in his
voice.
~~~~~~To Be Continued~~~~~~~