Sacrifices
From space, Kentares IV was beautiful. The oceans, continents, and gigantic mountains made the planet look like old Terra, thought Lucullus Calgar as the boxy transport roared into the atmosphere. It seemed like so long ago he was only an innocent child on his home planet- until the Space Marines came. Unknown to him he was slated to be recruited into the Adeptus Astartes, the Emperor's Children, the Angels of Death. He was taken from Terra at fourteen and sent to the planet Ultramar for bio-augmentation and his first battle training. After a harsh year of rough training, religious indoctrination, and little comfort, he was being sent into his first battle zone. Few had survived that first year, leaving only a mere dozen new recruits from the original fifty. He wondered if he would ever see his home again, or whether he would be killed here, thousands of light years from Terra, and no one would even give his corpse a second thought… He was awakened from his musings by the sharp voice of the Sergeant.
"My brothers! Today you are truly going to become the Emperor's finest, and vanquish his foes with righteous fury! The foul heretics of Chaos have descended upon this world, and we must destroy them utterly. While traitors still stand to fight, while mutants still live, while demons still draw breath, we will not back down! To retreat is to blaspheme against the Emperor. Remember that, my brethren, and charge into battle knowing that the divine favor of the Emperor shines on those who are united in his purpose." Lucullus almost chuckled. Sergeant Novarius was a little fanatical in his devotion to the Emperor and Sanguinus… almost too fanatical. He banished the heretical thought from his mind in a instant, remembering the teachings of Brother Mortez. "Never doubt the righteousness of man. Though you have been elevated by the blessings of the Emperor you are still the servants of man. It is doubt that forms the path to damnation."
Novarius was now walking around the transport, inspecting armor and checking boltguns, making sure that everything was in order. The display on the wall showed that they would be on the surface in less then five minutes. Lucullus checked his own red power armor. The Sergeant came to him
"Brother Lucullus, Squad III, Tenth Company, Blood Angels, sir! All systems green sir!" reported Lucullus.
"Excellent." The sergeant moved on, checking the other soldiers equipment. As he returned to the cockpit and began preparing his own, an explosion rocked the ship. Men and equipment were flung about as the damaged transport began to spin.
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"Fools. Those self-righteous dogs of the Emperor got what was coming to them." The Chaos gunner loaded another clip into his lascannon and scanned the sky for his next target. The Space Marine assault was being pushed back across the battlefield. The few troops who had safely landed were pinned down in bunkers and trenches, and many of the transports were being shot down even as they entered the atmosphere.
When the transport crashed, six of Lucullus' brother Marines were killed instantly. Two more were severely wounded, and were carried by Lucullus and Novarius to a bunker. Fortunately, the area they crashed in had already been overrun by Chaos, and the battle had moved elsewhere. The bedraggled soldiers took a moment to rest in the bunker, tending to wounds and ensuring the safety of Brother Marcus and Brother Volcanu before leaving to find the main force. Their only long-distance communicator was aboard the ship, so they would have to make their own way to meet up with the rest of the army.
"I know from mission briefings that our brother Terminators and Mortez were deployed at in a defensive position slightly north of our intended landing spot. I suggest follow these trenches to reach the position they were holding. They will need all the help they can get," said Novarius. "I concur," agreed Lucullus. They set off through the trenches, stepping over the bodies of Space Marines who had fallen in service to the Emperor.
"Halt," said the sergeant. "Though there be no Chaplain here to give the Rites of Battle, I say we stop and say a prayer for these brave soldiers who gave their loyalty until the end." There was a solemn moment as Novarius prayed for the souls of the warriors. Then they were off again, rushing through the trenches in a desperate effort to reach the front lines of battle before it was too late.
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Shells were falling all around Brother Mortez as he struggled to get his armored bulk past the heavy Chaos defenses. Mortez was a Dreadnought, a mortally wounded Space Marine warrior permanently entombed in a robotic sarcophagus. He was an imposing sight, over three times the height of a man with a pair of massive machine guns on one arm and a huge crushing fist on the other. Even his power was not enough to overcome the Chaos heavy weapons, and he was forced to fall back. Only three Terminators remained to assist him, and there were more Chaos troops arriving by the moment. Mortez was surrounded. There was no escape, and he was sure he would perish under the withering fire of lascannons and missiles. Despair was a foreign sensation to the old warrior however, as centuries of combat had hardened his unshakeable faith in the Emperor to an almost adamantine level. He clenched and unclenched his robotic fist several times, and said a prayer to the Emperor as he charged forward to his final battle.
"Mortez!" cried Novarius as the Dreadnought rushed into battle. Mortez halted, and turned to regard the sergeant. As soon as he took his eyes from the combat, however, a powerfist smashed into his leg and knocked him to the ground. Berzerkers of Khorne swarmed over the venerable warrior, ripping at him with chainswords, trying to find a chink in his plasteel armor. Mortez flailed his giant fist around, smashing Berzerkers left and right, but the tide of enemies seemed endless. Upon seeing this, a scream of pure rage erupted from Novarius' lips and he charged headlong into battle to help his dying friend.
"Novarius! Come back! You can't save him! Novarius!" cried Lucullus. His screams were to no avail, however, for the sergeant was already in the midst of the Chaos ranks, ignoring vicious wounds that would stop even the most toughened warriors. Finally, a well-placed shot from a plasma pistol blasted him back from the carnage, and he lay stunned on the ground. As Lucullus rushed over to his sergeant, there was a mighty CRACK as an explosion ripped forth from Dreadnought's carapace. Rather than allowing his soul to be sacrificed to the Dark Gods, Mortez had done the most noble act of all: he had self-destructed, utterly annihilating both himself and the swarming Berzerkers around him. Lucullus was stunned. In his short time in the Blood Angels chapter, he had never seen such a powerful act of self- sacrifice. Then, from under a heap of bodies, he saw a slight movement. It was Brother Novarius. He staggered out from under his gruesome prison, only half-conscious and bleeding profusely from many wounds in his crimson armor. Upon seeing the blackened carcass of Mortez, he fell to his knees, tears of grief and rage flowing from his eyes. Lucullus felt a similar anger rising deep in his own soul. He began to see visions of his Primarch, Sanguinus, being sacrificed at the hands of the Dark Gods. A red mist began to form in his vision, and he could feel his rage building up uncontrollably. Novarius stood up, nearly blinded from pain and his anger. He too could feel the Black Rage growing in him, and the normally suppressed bloodlust that all Blood Angels contained broke free. With a strangled cry like a wounded animal, he began running towards the sounds of battle.
"For Mortez and Sanguinus! Bring death to the heretics!"
Lucullus, hearing nothing but the orders of his sergeant and the noise of combat, charged forward screaming with all the rage and hatred felt by his whole race.
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The Chaos soldier found no remaining military targets, so decided to have a little macabre fun. He turned his weapon on some civilian apartment buildings that were still populated, and let loose a burst of crimson energy. He chortled with sickening glee as the building collapsed, bringing the lives of many innocents down with it. He heard a sudden noise behind him and turned to greet his battle-brethren. Instead, he found himself looking down the barrel of a Space Marine boltgun. He quickly ducked and rolled out of the way, the actuators in his armor grinding to compensate for his movements. Not quickly enough, for he was stopped by a stream of lethal shells smashing into his breastplate. He recited an incantation to the dark gods as darkness washed over him…
Lucullus heard nothing. He saw nothing. He felt nothing, except for the numbing bloodlust of the Black Rage that washed over him. He turned from his latest kill to follow his sergeant off to more battle, wishing only to turn the ground crimson with the foul blood of Chaos.
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After many hours of the most deadly fighting any of the participants had seen, the Space Marines had clearly lost Kentares. The lines were falling back across the war zone, and casualties has risen to over five hundred, which was almost half the entire Blood Angels chapter. The last troops were being shuttled off at a spaceport near the capital city of Macragge, and with luck, the rest of the troops would be able to escape. Suddenly, a massive energy signal materialized on the general's radar map. It appeared to be moving quickly towards Macragge.
"Brother Locador!" yelled the Chapter Master overseeing the operation. "Find me the source of that energy signal!"
"Yes, sir!" replied the Techmarine operating the communications systems. After a few minutes, he turned back to the Chapter Master with a blank look in eyes. "Sir, the energy signatures are not of any technology Chaos has in operation… They are laced very strongly with raw warp energy. It can only be one thing…"
"A greater daemon," said the commander. Greater daemons were the most feared creature in the known universe, striking terror into the heart of any normal man. Space Marines were much more than normal men. The Chapter Master reacted to the news with cold acceptance. "Tell all my soldiers of the situation. Tell them that this may be their final hour in this mortal world. Tell them to go down with a prayer to the Emperor in their hearts."
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Bloodthirster. The very name was enough to make nearly anyone quake in their boots. The actual sight of one was enough to make one faint. Twenty feet tall, with a sinuous whip in one arm and a massive axe in the other, it could tear apart even the strongest armor easily. It's brown skin was tougher than any armor, and the look of pure bloodlust on it's face struck terror into the heart of all but the Space Marines. It exuded an aura of pure evil, and the stench of death. It flew through the air with unnatural grace, it's leathery red wings parting the air with ease. As it descended upon the Blood Angel positions, the Adeptus Astartes steeled their nerves and hearts for the ordeal to come. One rarely saw a Greater Daemon more than once, for one rarely survived the experience.
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Novarius and Lucullus heard the noise of battle before they saw it. They heard screams of pain and earth-shattering roars from the Bloodthirster. When they finally crested the hill, they saw the fearsome daemon ripping the Blood Angel ranks to shreds, seemingly oblivious to the lascannon and boltgun shots peppering its hide. The mere sight of the thing stopped Lucullus in his tracks. Novarius, however, was beyond hope of saving. Once a warrior became completely overtaken by the Black Rage, there was naught to do but allow him to die for the Emperor in bloody melee. Novarius grabbed a power sword from a fallen Space Marine and charged towards the Bloodthirster, sword in hand and a battle cry on his lips.
Pain was not an issue for Novarius. He was beyond that now. Dozens of former friends had fallen before his eyes this day, and Mortez's demise was no one's fault but his own. His fury guided his sword as he tore through the Bloodthirster's flesh, ignoring the massive wounds he was dealt in return. The Bloodthirster grabbed him in his claw, swooping upward away from the battle. All combat ceased as warriors on both sides stopped to watch the battle: a struggle between two titans; a duel between the Emperor's finest and the mightiest champion of Chaos. Novarius began by slicing the Bloodthirster's claw from it's arm, with a movement almost too quick to register. Held aloft by his jump pack, he proceeded to deal the Bloodthirster a flurry of blows to his face. It wasn't called a Greater Daemon for nothing, however, so it shrugged off the wounds and swung it's massive axe around. Novarius dodged, but not quickly enough. A million fires of agony coursed through his nerves as the cruel Axe of Khorne tore his flesh and crushed his bones. Novarius, too, was made of tougher stuff than that, so he gritted his teeth and jetted away. The two combatants circled each other warily, looking for an opening in each other's defenses. Suddenly, the Bloodthirster stuck! With a lightning-fast slash, the axe came around behind Novarius and dug into his armor. Novarius did a quick backflip, twisting the daemon's arm around. The Bloodthirster roared in pain and clobbered Novarius with it's giant fist. The Space Marine went flying away, reeling from the force of the blow. As he regained his bearings, Novarius felt a tugging on his leg. He was being pulled towards the daemon by it's whip, and there was nothing he could do. He boosted the power to his jump pack and slashed at the whip, but the adamantine strength of the cords held. As he was dragged closer, the Bloodthirster swung its axe at him, cutting deep into his power armor. Another slash severed his leg from his body. The spark of life was fading fast from Novarius, and with his last breath he leveled his sword at the foul monster of Chaos. He severed the bonds of his jump pack, plunging his blade downward into the daemon's massive chest. With a final growl of agony, the Bloodthirster collapsed, his body dissipating into red smoke as the energy that bound him together dissipated. Then Novarius was falling, plummeting towards the ground and landing with a sickening thud.
Lucullus was dumbfounded by his sergeant's demise. Novarius had always seemed an invincible rock of strength, able to withstand the worst punishment and live through it all with stoicism and resolve. He had taught Novarius everything he knew, about faith; about truth; and most of all, sadly, about self-sacrifice. He had given his all to save the warriors of his Chapter, and had never allowed any of his brethren to die in vain. This last act of self-sacrifice brought Lucullus from his rage fully and completely, and he realized that the only way to honor Novarius' memory was to honor his death.
"My brothers! We must make haste! Gather your wounded, and make for the spaceport with all speed. We must not allow ourselves to die here, for that is what Novarius gave his life to prevent. He knew he would have no chance, but now we do! Follow me, my brothers, and let us leave this god-forsaken rock forever!" cried Lucullus.
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As the transports left the atmosphere, Lucullus stared back at Kentares IV in silent contemplation. Novarius had proven that the misguided ideals of Chaos would surely lead to humanity's destruction, for only through co- operation and self-sacrifice could people achieve the goal of peace. Chaos led people to believe that the purpose of life was self-fulfillment and personal power, but life's true purpose was not personal advancement. It was helping others, working for a common cause, and giving for the benefit of others, not any personal kickback. Although Novarius had been killed, his act had saved the lives of many others. Devotion to the Emperor was merely a facade. The true virtue of man was giving, a virtue which the evils of Chaos would never have.
From space, Kentares IV was beautiful. The oceans, continents, and gigantic mountains made the planet look like old Terra, thought Lucullus Calgar as the boxy transport roared into the atmosphere. It seemed like so long ago he was only an innocent child on his home planet- until the Space Marines came. Unknown to him he was slated to be recruited into the Adeptus Astartes, the Emperor's Children, the Angels of Death. He was taken from Terra at fourteen and sent to the planet Ultramar for bio-augmentation and his first battle training. After a harsh year of rough training, religious indoctrination, and little comfort, he was being sent into his first battle zone. Few had survived that first year, leaving only a mere dozen new recruits from the original fifty. He wondered if he would ever see his home again, or whether he would be killed here, thousands of light years from Terra, and no one would even give his corpse a second thought… He was awakened from his musings by the sharp voice of the Sergeant.
"My brothers! Today you are truly going to become the Emperor's finest, and vanquish his foes with righteous fury! The foul heretics of Chaos have descended upon this world, and we must destroy them utterly. While traitors still stand to fight, while mutants still live, while demons still draw breath, we will not back down! To retreat is to blaspheme against the Emperor. Remember that, my brethren, and charge into battle knowing that the divine favor of the Emperor shines on those who are united in his purpose." Lucullus almost chuckled. Sergeant Novarius was a little fanatical in his devotion to the Emperor and Sanguinus… almost too fanatical. He banished the heretical thought from his mind in a instant, remembering the teachings of Brother Mortez. "Never doubt the righteousness of man. Though you have been elevated by the blessings of the Emperor you are still the servants of man. It is doubt that forms the path to damnation."
Novarius was now walking around the transport, inspecting armor and checking boltguns, making sure that everything was in order. The display on the wall showed that they would be on the surface in less then five minutes. Lucullus checked his own red power armor. The Sergeant came to him
"Brother Lucullus, Squad III, Tenth Company, Blood Angels, sir! All systems green sir!" reported Lucullus.
"Excellent." The sergeant moved on, checking the other soldiers equipment. As he returned to the cockpit and began preparing his own, an explosion rocked the ship. Men and equipment were flung about as the damaged transport began to spin.
***********************************************************************
"Fools. Those self-righteous dogs of the Emperor got what was coming to them." The Chaos gunner loaded another clip into his lascannon and scanned the sky for his next target. The Space Marine assault was being pushed back across the battlefield. The few troops who had safely landed were pinned down in bunkers and trenches, and many of the transports were being shot down even as they entered the atmosphere.
When the transport crashed, six of Lucullus' brother Marines were killed instantly. Two more were severely wounded, and were carried by Lucullus and Novarius to a bunker. Fortunately, the area they crashed in had already been overrun by Chaos, and the battle had moved elsewhere. The bedraggled soldiers took a moment to rest in the bunker, tending to wounds and ensuring the safety of Brother Marcus and Brother Volcanu before leaving to find the main force. Their only long-distance communicator was aboard the ship, so they would have to make their own way to meet up with the rest of the army.
"I know from mission briefings that our brother Terminators and Mortez were deployed at in a defensive position slightly north of our intended landing spot. I suggest follow these trenches to reach the position they were holding. They will need all the help they can get," said Novarius. "I concur," agreed Lucullus. They set off through the trenches, stepping over the bodies of Space Marines who had fallen in service to the Emperor.
"Halt," said the sergeant. "Though there be no Chaplain here to give the Rites of Battle, I say we stop and say a prayer for these brave soldiers who gave their loyalty until the end." There was a solemn moment as Novarius prayed for the souls of the warriors. Then they were off again, rushing through the trenches in a desperate effort to reach the front lines of battle before it was too late.
**********************************************************************
Shells were falling all around Brother Mortez as he struggled to get his armored bulk past the heavy Chaos defenses. Mortez was a Dreadnought, a mortally wounded Space Marine warrior permanently entombed in a robotic sarcophagus. He was an imposing sight, over three times the height of a man with a pair of massive machine guns on one arm and a huge crushing fist on the other. Even his power was not enough to overcome the Chaos heavy weapons, and he was forced to fall back. Only three Terminators remained to assist him, and there were more Chaos troops arriving by the moment. Mortez was surrounded. There was no escape, and he was sure he would perish under the withering fire of lascannons and missiles. Despair was a foreign sensation to the old warrior however, as centuries of combat had hardened his unshakeable faith in the Emperor to an almost adamantine level. He clenched and unclenched his robotic fist several times, and said a prayer to the Emperor as he charged forward to his final battle.
"Mortez!" cried Novarius as the Dreadnought rushed into battle. Mortez halted, and turned to regard the sergeant. As soon as he took his eyes from the combat, however, a powerfist smashed into his leg and knocked him to the ground. Berzerkers of Khorne swarmed over the venerable warrior, ripping at him with chainswords, trying to find a chink in his plasteel armor. Mortez flailed his giant fist around, smashing Berzerkers left and right, but the tide of enemies seemed endless. Upon seeing this, a scream of pure rage erupted from Novarius' lips and he charged headlong into battle to help his dying friend.
"Novarius! Come back! You can't save him! Novarius!" cried Lucullus. His screams were to no avail, however, for the sergeant was already in the midst of the Chaos ranks, ignoring vicious wounds that would stop even the most toughened warriors. Finally, a well-placed shot from a plasma pistol blasted him back from the carnage, and he lay stunned on the ground. As Lucullus rushed over to his sergeant, there was a mighty CRACK as an explosion ripped forth from Dreadnought's carapace. Rather than allowing his soul to be sacrificed to the Dark Gods, Mortez had done the most noble act of all: he had self-destructed, utterly annihilating both himself and the swarming Berzerkers around him. Lucullus was stunned. In his short time in the Blood Angels chapter, he had never seen such a powerful act of self- sacrifice. Then, from under a heap of bodies, he saw a slight movement. It was Brother Novarius. He staggered out from under his gruesome prison, only half-conscious and bleeding profusely from many wounds in his crimson armor. Upon seeing the blackened carcass of Mortez, he fell to his knees, tears of grief and rage flowing from his eyes. Lucullus felt a similar anger rising deep in his own soul. He began to see visions of his Primarch, Sanguinus, being sacrificed at the hands of the Dark Gods. A red mist began to form in his vision, and he could feel his rage building up uncontrollably. Novarius stood up, nearly blinded from pain and his anger. He too could feel the Black Rage growing in him, and the normally suppressed bloodlust that all Blood Angels contained broke free. With a strangled cry like a wounded animal, he began running towards the sounds of battle.
"For Mortez and Sanguinus! Bring death to the heretics!"
Lucullus, hearing nothing but the orders of his sergeant and the noise of combat, charged forward screaming with all the rage and hatred felt by his whole race.
************************************************************************
The Chaos soldier found no remaining military targets, so decided to have a little macabre fun. He turned his weapon on some civilian apartment buildings that were still populated, and let loose a burst of crimson energy. He chortled with sickening glee as the building collapsed, bringing the lives of many innocents down with it. He heard a sudden noise behind him and turned to greet his battle-brethren. Instead, he found himself looking down the barrel of a Space Marine boltgun. He quickly ducked and rolled out of the way, the actuators in his armor grinding to compensate for his movements. Not quickly enough, for he was stopped by a stream of lethal shells smashing into his breastplate. He recited an incantation to the dark gods as darkness washed over him…
Lucullus heard nothing. He saw nothing. He felt nothing, except for the numbing bloodlust of the Black Rage that washed over him. He turned from his latest kill to follow his sergeant off to more battle, wishing only to turn the ground crimson with the foul blood of Chaos.
************************************************************************
After many hours of the most deadly fighting any of the participants had seen, the Space Marines had clearly lost Kentares. The lines were falling back across the war zone, and casualties has risen to over five hundred, which was almost half the entire Blood Angels chapter. The last troops were being shuttled off at a spaceport near the capital city of Macragge, and with luck, the rest of the troops would be able to escape. Suddenly, a massive energy signal materialized on the general's radar map. It appeared to be moving quickly towards Macragge.
"Brother Locador!" yelled the Chapter Master overseeing the operation. "Find me the source of that energy signal!"
"Yes, sir!" replied the Techmarine operating the communications systems. After a few minutes, he turned back to the Chapter Master with a blank look in eyes. "Sir, the energy signatures are not of any technology Chaos has in operation… They are laced very strongly with raw warp energy. It can only be one thing…"
"A greater daemon," said the commander. Greater daemons were the most feared creature in the known universe, striking terror into the heart of any normal man. Space Marines were much more than normal men. The Chapter Master reacted to the news with cold acceptance. "Tell all my soldiers of the situation. Tell them that this may be their final hour in this mortal world. Tell them to go down with a prayer to the Emperor in their hearts."
************************************************************************
Bloodthirster. The very name was enough to make nearly anyone quake in their boots. The actual sight of one was enough to make one faint. Twenty feet tall, with a sinuous whip in one arm and a massive axe in the other, it could tear apart even the strongest armor easily. It's brown skin was tougher than any armor, and the look of pure bloodlust on it's face struck terror into the heart of all but the Space Marines. It exuded an aura of pure evil, and the stench of death. It flew through the air with unnatural grace, it's leathery red wings parting the air with ease. As it descended upon the Blood Angel positions, the Adeptus Astartes steeled their nerves and hearts for the ordeal to come. One rarely saw a Greater Daemon more than once, for one rarely survived the experience.
************************************************************************
Novarius and Lucullus heard the noise of battle before they saw it. They heard screams of pain and earth-shattering roars from the Bloodthirster. When they finally crested the hill, they saw the fearsome daemon ripping the Blood Angel ranks to shreds, seemingly oblivious to the lascannon and boltgun shots peppering its hide. The mere sight of the thing stopped Lucullus in his tracks. Novarius, however, was beyond hope of saving. Once a warrior became completely overtaken by the Black Rage, there was naught to do but allow him to die for the Emperor in bloody melee. Novarius grabbed a power sword from a fallen Space Marine and charged towards the Bloodthirster, sword in hand and a battle cry on his lips.
Pain was not an issue for Novarius. He was beyond that now. Dozens of former friends had fallen before his eyes this day, and Mortez's demise was no one's fault but his own. His fury guided his sword as he tore through the Bloodthirster's flesh, ignoring the massive wounds he was dealt in return. The Bloodthirster grabbed him in his claw, swooping upward away from the battle. All combat ceased as warriors on both sides stopped to watch the battle: a struggle between two titans; a duel between the Emperor's finest and the mightiest champion of Chaos. Novarius began by slicing the Bloodthirster's claw from it's arm, with a movement almost too quick to register. Held aloft by his jump pack, he proceeded to deal the Bloodthirster a flurry of blows to his face. It wasn't called a Greater Daemon for nothing, however, so it shrugged off the wounds and swung it's massive axe around. Novarius dodged, but not quickly enough. A million fires of agony coursed through his nerves as the cruel Axe of Khorne tore his flesh and crushed his bones. Novarius, too, was made of tougher stuff than that, so he gritted his teeth and jetted away. The two combatants circled each other warily, looking for an opening in each other's defenses. Suddenly, the Bloodthirster stuck! With a lightning-fast slash, the axe came around behind Novarius and dug into his armor. Novarius did a quick backflip, twisting the daemon's arm around. The Bloodthirster roared in pain and clobbered Novarius with it's giant fist. The Space Marine went flying away, reeling from the force of the blow. As he regained his bearings, Novarius felt a tugging on his leg. He was being pulled towards the daemon by it's whip, and there was nothing he could do. He boosted the power to his jump pack and slashed at the whip, but the adamantine strength of the cords held. As he was dragged closer, the Bloodthirster swung its axe at him, cutting deep into his power armor. Another slash severed his leg from his body. The spark of life was fading fast from Novarius, and with his last breath he leveled his sword at the foul monster of Chaos. He severed the bonds of his jump pack, plunging his blade downward into the daemon's massive chest. With a final growl of agony, the Bloodthirster collapsed, his body dissipating into red smoke as the energy that bound him together dissipated. Then Novarius was falling, plummeting towards the ground and landing with a sickening thud.
Lucullus was dumbfounded by his sergeant's demise. Novarius had always seemed an invincible rock of strength, able to withstand the worst punishment and live through it all with stoicism and resolve. He had taught Novarius everything he knew, about faith; about truth; and most of all, sadly, about self-sacrifice. He had given his all to save the warriors of his Chapter, and had never allowed any of his brethren to die in vain. This last act of self-sacrifice brought Lucullus from his rage fully and completely, and he realized that the only way to honor Novarius' memory was to honor his death.
"My brothers! We must make haste! Gather your wounded, and make for the spaceport with all speed. We must not allow ourselves to die here, for that is what Novarius gave his life to prevent. He knew he would have no chance, but now we do! Follow me, my brothers, and let us leave this god-forsaken rock forever!" cried Lucullus.
************************************************************************
As the transports left the atmosphere, Lucullus stared back at Kentares IV in silent contemplation. Novarius had proven that the misguided ideals of Chaos would surely lead to humanity's destruction, for only through co- operation and self-sacrifice could people achieve the goal of peace. Chaos led people to believe that the purpose of life was self-fulfillment and personal power, but life's true purpose was not personal advancement. It was helping others, working for a common cause, and giving for the benefit of others, not any personal kickback. Although Novarius had been killed, his act had saved the lives of many others. Devotion to the Emperor was merely a facade. The true virtue of man was giving, a virtue which the evils of Chaos would never have.