Evolution II: Brothers in Blood.
The chaplain passed by the convulsing brothers as they spit out curses to the enemies of the Chapter. In their jet black armor, they waited for the coming battle. These were the Death Company. These were the selected of the Blood Angels who were shown to be afflicted by the Black Rage. They feared not death. Frenzied by hatred, they could not cling to their lives for they were already dead. They were the walking corpses whose names were already counted among the casualties of the next day's battle. No Death Company member had ever returned alive. They were to die in combat or rage themselves into oblivion.
The holy brother removed his skull-engraved helmet and stepped into the temporary shelter at the head of the Beldath base camp. The small facility was filled with technical equipment and virtual reality read-outs of the city. At the head of the main strategy table, Commander Nerih sat and drank from his cup with grim concentration focused on the advancing left flank. Nerih had been the commander of the Division for a hundred years. His armor was decorated with the highest honors and many tales stood testament to his worthiness as both a commander and a soldier.
"Greetings, my brother." The commander spoke without looking up. "How go the chosen? Where do you recommend that we deploy them when they are ready?"
"My lord, Nerih. The numbers of the men stricken with the Black Rage grow by the hour. I expect we will have twenty-five by sunrise." The chaplain stepped up to the other end of the table and pointed at the location with the strongest resistance. "The men have requested that they be placed at the heart of district 764."
"As expected. We have been struggling with the heretics there for two days now. I would not want them to be disappointed. Very well, tell them that they will meet the stronghold of the enemy resistance in the morning."
"Very well, Commander."
As the chaplain left, the battle-hardened commander stood and walked over to the communication network. Quietly, he read over the most recent battle reports. The campaign went well. He sensed a presence in the room. "Is there something else, Chaplain?"
"Sir, it is Sergeant Tithca. And yes, I do have something that you should see." Tithca sounded winded and his scout uniform reeked of combat.
"Sergeant, what am I to see?" The commander picked up his helmet and strode proudly toward the door.
"Sir, my squad has returned from our mission and we discovered something not four kilometers from here. We brought it back for further instructions."
"Something? Let me see." Nerih pushed past the sergeant and quickly made his way through the camp. His subordinate hustled behind him. The two made there way to a collection of scouts that were from Ithaca's squad. At their feet lay a crumpled body. It was sheathed in a black body suit and had the scabbard of a combat sword wrapped around its waist. The body was badly wounded. "You brought me a corpse?"
"My commander, he is alive. We found him in some debris not far from here. He is a marine, but his identification marks have been removed and he bears no clues to his origins. He has no division or chapter insignias."
"I know of this man. He was found in containment this morning. He is most likely not a member of a chapter. I suspect he is some agent of the Inquisition. Our apothecary is deployed at the moment. Is this man stable?" Commander Nerih questioned as he examined the body.
"He heals quickly. He should be fully recovered within days, hours if the apothecary returns."
"Put him in the brig. I don't want to take any chances."
"Yes, sir." Two marines grabbed the marine by the shoulders and pulled him to his feet. As they lifted him, Azeroth's eyes opened.
"You have been found by the Blood Angels." Commander Nerih bowed slightly to gain eye contact. "You have been compromised. You will be detained until your loyalties can be confirmed."
Azeroth coughed and tried to focus on the commander. "Not again."
*****
Azeroth sat in his cell and stared out the only window. Behind the blue force shield, he tried to remember. He tried to recall his past. He watched a squad of marines as they sat for their mandatory relaxation. Marines required no sleep, but they did need to rest for several hours to maintain full effectiveness.
Suddenly, a marine entered the field of view. It was Kendral and he held four human heads in his hands. He sat among his brothers and began to speak loudly about the vengeance he had visited upon the enemy. How Azeroth longed for that kind of camaraderie. He was alone. He had no one to draw strength from. Without his memory, he had no deeds to recall and no alleys to rely upon. Worse still (while he was in this cell) fulfilling the will of the Emperor could not be done.
He heard footsteps and rose to meet the visitor. Commander Nerih stood on the other side of the power shield. The leader disengaged the barrier and entered the room. "Marine, I wish to speak to you."
"Very well." Azeroth stretched his shoulder. His arm had almost completely healed.
"Our apothecary was disintegrated in battle early this morning. Without him we are unable to do a genetic scan to find out who you are. You have three options." "I'm listening." "First, you remain here until we get another apothecary. You will be well cared for and will have access to a chaplain. You shouldn't be in here any longer than three days." Nerih could hear the grumble that the prisoner made.
"Second, you will be flown by ship to our support craft in orbit. There your mind will be scanned and your identity will be discovered. If you are as you maintain, you will be returned to your commander. If you are a heretic, you will be destroyed."
"These options are not acceptable. What is my third?"
Nerih presented a satchel and a tiny pistol. "You take this las pistol, these rations, and this comlink. You find the governor and tell me where he is. We will bombard the location from orbit. If you survive, you will have proved your loyalty and I will allow you to function in a limited capacity within my command until your identity can be determined."
"A suicide mission?"
"Such a small price to pay in order to serve Emperor, don't you think? You could waste your time - and His - sitting in this cell or in some interrogation room on board a star ship."
Azeroth paused for a second. "Well spoken. Give me some fatigues to compensate for my lack of armor and I will find your governor."
*****
The armored column lumbered down the main thoroughfare of Beldath. Ten vehicles strong, the Rhinos revealed perhaps the largest troop movement that the Blood Angels had launched since the battle for the purity of Beldath began three days ago. The red line of tanks was lead by two black ones. The obsidian-colored vehicles were marked with the symbols of the Death Company. Their time had come.
Within the lead tank sat an odd collection of warriors. Near the cargo door, seven death company marines sat and tried to hold back the fury that drove them close to madness. Against the far wall, Azeroth sat opposite Commander Nerih and privately mused over the irony that he was lumped together with the other men who would die today.
In the middle of the cramped room, a chaplain stood and recited words of wisdom to give his men something to focus on other than their rage and grief.
".true victory is to crush your foes utterly, to shatter his armored legions and run down his fleeing troops as they scatter. Pursue them to their lairs and burn them out. Burst into his unholy temples, smash down his icons and topple his foul idols. Burn his heretical works and leave no stone upon stone. Slaughter his followers, their families and their livestock lest any of their taint remain."
As the chaplain spoke, Nerih handed Azeroth a headset. "Plug this into your comlink and wear it. I want to watch your progress."
"Very well."
"If you succeed, your mission will end this pointless conflict. The troops will surrender when their leader is destroyed. You do understand the importance of what you are about to under take."
"I do. I gladly take on this mission. My life is the Emperor's to do with as He pleases and this is obviously His will. Although I would like to be better equipped."
"Make do with what you have. We are near your stop."
"Any that have dealt with them or given them succor must be obliterated, for memory is insidious and though you have crushed their will and their bodies they may yet return." Azeroth stifled a chuckle at the chaplain's words. Memory insidious?
"Send warrior scribes to excise the records of their name, expunge their deeds from the annals of history and remove even the memory of your foes existence. Only then have you truly won." The tank stopped and the back door began to drop. "This is the meaning of victory!"
With a unified shout, the warriors in black surged out of the door and poured out into the street. Azeroth listened as weapons fire rippled down the line of tanks. Privately, he observed that the Blood Angels may be effective, but they were never subtle.
Commander Nerih secured his helmet and checked his bolter. "This is our stop. Be quick and do not fail. Do not fail me, do not fail these men, and do not fail the Emperor. May Sanguinius guide your steps."
The two advanced out of the tank and Nerih laid down enough fire to ensure that Azeroth made it into a near by building without resistance.
Quickly, the unarmored marine entered the building and advanced up the floors to get a better vantage point. He made his way through the rooms to the third floor and crouched near a window that looked over the fire fight. The column had driven straight into the heart of the city's resistance. The unwashed masses of the defense forces poured from their hiding places as the Marines cut them down liked wheat.
"I am spending far too much of these battles hiding." Azeroth lamented. He decided that the fastest way to rectify that would be to prove his loyalty and complete this mission. He surveyed the battle and watched as a small group of the enemy shouted commands from a bunker down the alley. Azeroth peered through the weapon slit and saw a communications radio among their equipment. Quietly, the impromptu assassin made his way back down to the street.
The five members of the command squad frantically tried to hold their line as the marines advanced upon them like a red juggernaut. The charismatic and inspiring words of the governor were little comfort to them now. So this was what being outside of the Emperor's will was actually like.
The radio hissed and a hurried message came through the speaker. "It is Lieutenant Mend! I'm at the door! Let me in!"
"Why aren't you with your unit?" The captain questioned.
"They are all dead, I need orders. Just open the door."
The captain nodded to his staff sergeant who went and unlocked the door. The door flung open with such force that the sergeant was knocked prone. Lieutenant Mend entered the room, but his feet hovered over the floor. In one hand, Azeroth held the lifeless body of the lieutenant by the neck. In the other hand he held a radio.
He smashed the radio against the wall and dropped the corpse to the floor. "He did lose his unit. At least that was true. I need to find the governor. Perhaps you can help me." His words were met with lasgun fire. The terrified soldiers fired blindly in his direction as he waded through them like a force of nature. Moments later, only he and the captain stood in a bunker whose walls were covered in blood and whose floor was strewn with broken bodies.
The enormous frame of the marine towered over the human and his voice billowed as he spoke over the advancing weapons fire. "Heretic, you obviously have loyalty issues. Tell me where your superiors are. If you speak honestly, I will end it cleanly. If you do not, I will turn you over to the inquisitors. Either way you will speak. It is your choice."
The captain's eyes widened at the mention of the inquisitors. Hushed rumors spoke of only one way that those men gathered information and he shuddered at the thought of it. Eyes closed tightly, he spoke in a weak and fearful voice. "The commander of our defense forces operates from a hidden bunker five kilometers from this position. It is under an old weapons refinery. It is the only location where I receive orders and I know of no other center of our command."
There was a brief pause and the captain opened his eyes. He looked down the barrel of a las pistol. "That is the truth?"
*****
The factory was nearly ruined. Planetary bombardment had shaken the facility to its foundations. As always, the surface did not matter. What lies beneath reveals the truth. What truth would he find in the bowels of that base of operations? Azeroth moved quietly through the destroyed building.
Huge containment tanks lay on their sides all around the facility. On the far side of the building, three soldiers sat and smoked. Hidden in the rubble beside them, Azeroth could make out what appeared to be a camouflaged blast door. Azeroth stepped out in the open and opened fire. Two of the men never got a chance to react. The third lunged for his weapon and ducked behind cover.
Azeroth stood and leveled his pistol at the barrier. Eventually, both the las gun and the head of the sentry looked over the wall. Azeroth promptly shot him.
Beside the corpse lay a communication radio. He had warned the station below. It would be impossible for Azeroth to fight them all without the element of surprise. He scanned the room and noticed a green residue all over the walls. Rubbing his finger across it and tasting it, he found it to be palleon gas. The chemical was used in superheating a forge to melt high resistance metals. Breath masks littered the debris. They weren't military grade breathers. These were here before the battle started.
Azeroth collected several of drums of palleon gas that had survived the attack on the building. He opened the hatch to the bunker and peered down into the hole. A staircase lead down several stories and ended in a solid door.
He rolled five of the drums down the stairs and then went back to the sentries and retrieved several frag grenades from their belts. Holding the bundle of explosives in his hands, he collected the pins in his mouth. He pulled them with a jerk of his head and tumbled the grenades down the stairs.
They bounced down the chamber and rested on the pile of barrels that lay against the door. As Azeroth went back and gathered another bundle of grenades the corridor erupted in fire. The concussive force the explosion ruptured the door to the command center. Slowly, a green gas seeped into the room and hung in the air like a deadly visage.
The door gave way under a second explosion and fell to the floor as more gas billowed into the room. Azeroth strode into the room shrouded in green haze. As the humans in the room choked and sputtered their last breathes, he began to search for clues on the governor's whereabouts.
Because of the early warning, the occupants of this room had managed to destroy most of the evidence. Electronic equipment lay smashed and a pile of ash revealed what had happened to any hard copies they might have had.
Azeroth cursed and overturned an adjacent table. Enraged by his ineptness and the stubbornness of these rebels, he drew his weapon and began to fire into the dying men. Shot after shot hit their targets with a soft thud, but offered Azeroth no respite from his anger.
Across the room, a civilian man leaned in the corner and choked on the gas. He wore a robe of purple and clutched a book in one hand. Azeroth leveled his pistol and shot him. The blast refracted off of his chest and struck the wall which only infuriated the marine all the more. Beneath his singed clothes, the marine caught the shine of a metallic object.
He ran and yanked the man to his feet. Angrily, he threw the fool across the room and into a metal cabinet. The defenseless heretic looked up only to find the marine on him yet again. Azeroth picked him up and smashed him back into the cabinet. "What is it that you are hiding under your shirt?" The agent of the Emperor ripped the robe from his victim as the man wheezed incoherently. "Shut up." Azeroth stated dripping in hatred and placed the las pistol in the man's mouth. "I'll find out myself." He pulled the trigger. Around the man's neck a large, silver hoop hung on a chain. The ring had engravings on the inside of if. It was not his native tongue, but Azeroth instantly knew its meaning. Memories flooded back to him in vivid detail. Faces, times, and places whispered secrets that they were unwilling to share not moments before.
In that moment of clarity, a rage unknown to most men crossed Azeroth's face. He gripped the ring in his hand and spun to stare at the rebel remnant in the room. The few survivors would die by his bare hands.
The chaplain passed by the convulsing brothers as they spit out curses to the enemies of the Chapter. In their jet black armor, they waited for the coming battle. These were the Death Company. These were the selected of the Blood Angels who were shown to be afflicted by the Black Rage. They feared not death. Frenzied by hatred, they could not cling to their lives for they were already dead. They were the walking corpses whose names were already counted among the casualties of the next day's battle. No Death Company member had ever returned alive. They were to die in combat or rage themselves into oblivion.
The holy brother removed his skull-engraved helmet and stepped into the temporary shelter at the head of the Beldath base camp. The small facility was filled with technical equipment and virtual reality read-outs of the city. At the head of the main strategy table, Commander Nerih sat and drank from his cup with grim concentration focused on the advancing left flank. Nerih had been the commander of the Division for a hundred years. His armor was decorated with the highest honors and many tales stood testament to his worthiness as both a commander and a soldier.
"Greetings, my brother." The commander spoke without looking up. "How go the chosen? Where do you recommend that we deploy them when they are ready?"
"My lord, Nerih. The numbers of the men stricken with the Black Rage grow by the hour. I expect we will have twenty-five by sunrise." The chaplain stepped up to the other end of the table and pointed at the location with the strongest resistance. "The men have requested that they be placed at the heart of district 764."
"As expected. We have been struggling with the heretics there for two days now. I would not want them to be disappointed. Very well, tell them that they will meet the stronghold of the enemy resistance in the morning."
"Very well, Commander."
As the chaplain left, the battle-hardened commander stood and walked over to the communication network. Quietly, he read over the most recent battle reports. The campaign went well. He sensed a presence in the room. "Is there something else, Chaplain?"
"Sir, it is Sergeant Tithca. And yes, I do have something that you should see." Tithca sounded winded and his scout uniform reeked of combat.
"Sergeant, what am I to see?" The commander picked up his helmet and strode proudly toward the door.
"Sir, my squad has returned from our mission and we discovered something not four kilometers from here. We brought it back for further instructions."
"Something? Let me see." Nerih pushed past the sergeant and quickly made his way through the camp. His subordinate hustled behind him. The two made there way to a collection of scouts that were from Ithaca's squad. At their feet lay a crumpled body. It was sheathed in a black body suit and had the scabbard of a combat sword wrapped around its waist. The body was badly wounded. "You brought me a corpse?"
"My commander, he is alive. We found him in some debris not far from here. He is a marine, but his identification marks have been removed and he bears no clues to his origins. He has no division or chapter insignias."
"I know of this man. He was found in containment this morning. He is most likely not a member of a chapter. I suspect he is some agent of the Inquisition. Our apothecary is deployed at the moment. Is this man stable?" Commander Nerih questioned as he examined the body.
"He heals quickly. He should be fully recovered within days, hours if the apothecary returns."
"Put him in the brig. I don't want to take any chances."
"Yes, sir." Two marines grabbed the marine by the shoulders and pulled him to his feet. As they lifted him, Azeroth's eyes opened.
"You have been found by the Blood Angels." Commander Nerih bowed slightly to gain eye contact. "You have been compromised. You will be detained until your loyalties can be confirmed."
Azeroth coughed and tried to focus on the commander. "Not again."
*****
Azeroth sat in his cell and stared out the only window. Behind the blue force shield, he tried to remember. He tried to recall his past. He watched a squad of marines as they sat for their mandatory relaxation. Marines required no sleep, but they did need to rest for several hours to maintain full effectiveness.
Suddenly, a marine entered the field of view. It was Kendral and he held four human heads in his hands. He sat among his brothers and began to speak loudly about the vengeance he had visited upon the enemy. How Azeroth longed for that kind of camaraderie. He was alone. He had no one to draw strength from. Without his memory, he had no deeds to recall and no alleys to rely upon. Worse still (while he was in this cell) fulfilling the will of the Emperor could not be done.
He heard footsteps and rose to meet the visitor. Commander Nerih stood on the other side of the power shield. The leader disengaged the barrier and entered the room. "Marine, I wish to speak to you."
"Very well." Azeroth stretched his shoulder. His arm had almost completely healed.
"Our apothecary was disintegrated in battle early this morning. Without him we are unable to do a genetic scan to find out who you are. You have three options." "I'm listening." "First, you remain here until we get another apothecary. You will be well cared for and will have access to a chaplain. You shouldn't be in here any longer than three days." Nerih could hear the grumble that the prisoner made.
"Second, you will be flown by ship to our support craft in orbit. There your mind will be scanned and your identity will be discovered. If you are as you maintain, you will be returned to your commander. If you are a heretic, you will be destroyed."
"These options are not acceptable. What is my third?"
Nerih presented a satchel and a tiny pistol. "You take this las pistol, these rations, and this comlink. You find the governor and tell me where he is. We will bombard the location from orbit. If you survive, you will have proved your loyalty and I will allow you to function in a limited capacity within my command until your identity can be determined."
"A suicide mission?"
"Such a small price to pay in order to serve Emperor, don't you think? You could waste your time - and His - sitting in this cell or in some interrogation room on board a star ship."
Azeroth paused for a second. "Well spoken. Give me some fatigues to compensate for my lack of armor and I will find your governor."
*****
The armored column lumbered down the main thoroughfare of Beldath. Ten vehicles strong, the Rhinos revealed perhaps the largest troop movement that the Blood Angels had launched since the battle for the purity of Beldath began three days ago. The red line of tanks was lead by two black ones. The obsidian-colored vehicles were marked with the symbols of the Death Company. Their time had come.
Within the lead tank sat an odd collection of warriors. Near the cargo door, seven death company marines sat and tried to hold back the fury that drove them close to madness. Against the far wall, Azeroth sat opposite Commander Nerih and privately mused over the irony that he was lumped together with the other men who would die today.
In the middle of the cramped room, a chaplain stood and recited words of wisdom to give his men something to focus on other than their rage and grief.
".true victory is to crush your foes utterly, to shatter his armored legions and run down his fleeing troops as they scatter. Pursue them to their lairs and burn them out. Burst into his unholy temples, smash down his icons and topple his foul idols. Burn his heretical works and leave no stone upon stone. Slaughter his followers, their families and their livestock lest any of their taint remain."
As the chaplain spoke, Nerih handed Azeroth a headset. "Plug this into your comlink and wear it. I want to watch your progress."
"Very well."
"If you succeed, your mission will end this pointless conflict. The troops will surrender when their leader is destroyed. You do understand the importance of what you are about to under take."
"I do. I gladly take on this mission. My life is the Emperor's to do with as He pleases and this is obviously His will. Although I would like to be better equipped."
"Make do with what you have. We are near your stop."
"Any that have dealt with them or given them succor must be obliterated, for memory is insidious and though you have crushed their will and their bodies they may yet return." Azeroth stifled a chuckle at the chaplain's words. Memory insidious?
"Send warrior scribes to excise the records of their name, expunge their deeds from the annals of history and remove even the memory of your foes existence. Only then have you truly won." The tank stopped and the back door began to drop. "This is the meaning of victory!"
With a unified shout, the warriors in black surged out of the door and poured out into the street. Azeroth listened as weapons fire rippled down the line of tanks. Privately, he observed that the Blood Angels may be effective, but they were never subtle.
Commander Nerih secured his helmet and checked his bolter. "This is our stop. Be quick and do not fail. Do not fail me, do not fail these men, and do not fail the Emperor. May Sanguinius guide your steps."
The two advanced out of the tank and Nerih laid down enough fire to ensure that Azeroth made it into a near by building without resistance.
Quickly, the unarmored marine entered the building and advanced up the floors to get a better vantage point. He made his way through the rooms to the third floor and crouched near a window that looked over the fire fight. The column had driven straight into the heart of the city's resistance. The unwashed masses of the defense forces poured from their hiding places as the Marines cut them down liked wheat.
"I am spending far too much of these battles hiding." Azeroth lamented. He decided that the fastest way to rectify that would be to prove his loyalty and complete this mission. He surveyed the battle and watched as a small group of the enemy shouted commands from a bunker down the alley. Azeroth peered through the weapon slit and saw a communications radio among their equipment. Quietly, the impromptu assassin made his way back down to the street.
The five members of the command squad frantically tried to hold their line as the marines advanced upon them like a red juggernaut. The charismatic and inspiring words of the governor were little comfort to them now. So this was what being outside of the Emperor's will was actually like.
The radio hissed and a hurried message came through the speaker. "It is Lieutenant Mend! I'm at the door! Let me in!"
"Why aren't you with your unit?" The captain questioned.
"They are all dead, I need orders. Just open the door."
The captain nodded to his staff sergeant who went and unlocked the door. The door flung open with such force that the sergeant was knocked prone. Lieutenant Mend entered the room, but his feet hovered over the floor. In one hand, Azeroth held the lifeless body of the lieutenant by the neck. In the other hand he held a radio.
He smashed the radio against the wall and dropped the corpse to the floor. "He did lose his unit. At least that was true. I need to find the governor. Perhaps you can help me." His words were met with lasgun fire. The terrified soldiers fired blindly in his direction as he waded through them like a force of nature. Moments later, only he and the captain stood in a bunker whose walls were covered in blood and whose floor was strewn with broken bodies.
The enormous frame of the marine towered over the human and his voice billowed as he spoke over the advancing weapons fire. "Heretic, you obviously have loyalty issues. Tell me where your superiors are. If you speak honestly, I will end it cleanly. If you do not, I will turn you over to the inquisitors. Either way you will speak. It is your choice."
The captain's eyes widened at the mention of the inquisitors. Hushed rumors spoke of only one way that those men gathered information and he shuddered at the thought of it. Eyes closed tightly, he spoke in a weak and fearful voice. "The commander of our defense forces operates from a hidden bunker five kilometers from this position. It is under an old weapons refinery. It is the only location where I receive orders and I know of no other center of our command."
There was a brief pause and the captain opened his eyes. He looked down the barrel of a las pistol. "That is the truth?"
*****
The factory was nearly ruined. Planetary bombardment had shaken the facility to its foundations. As always, the surface did not matter. What lies beneath reveals the truth. What truth would he find in the bowels of that base of operations? Azeroth moved quietly through the destroyed building.
Huge containment tanks lay on their sides all around the facility. On the far side of the building, three soldiers sat and smoked. Hidden in the rubble beside them, Azeroth could make out what appeared to be a camouflaged blast door. Azeroth stepped out in the open and opened fire. Two of the men never got a chance to react. The third lunged for his weapon and ducked behind cover.
Azeroth stood and leveled his pistol at the barrier. Eventually, both the las gun and the head of the sentry looked over the wall. Azeroth promptly shot him.
Beside the corpse lay a communication radio. He had warned the station below. It would be impossible for Azeroth to fight them all without the element of surprise. He scanned the room and noticed a green residue all over the walls. Rubbing his finger across it and tasting it, he found it to be palleon gas. The chemical was used in superheating a forge to melt high resistance metals. Breath masks littered the debris. They weren't military grade breathers. These were here before the battle started.
Azeroth collected several of drums of palleon gas that had survived the attack on the building. He opened the hatch to the bunker and peered down into the hole. A staircase lead down several stories and ended in a solid door.
He rolled five of the drums down the stairs and then went back to the sentries and retrieved several frag grenades from their belts. Holding the bundle of explosives in his hands, he collected the pins in his mouth. He pulled them with a jerk of his head and tumbled the grenades down the stairs.
They bounced down the chamber and rested on the pile of barrels that lay against the door. As Azeroth went back and gathered another bundle of grenades the corridor erupted in fire. The concussive force the explosion ruptured the door to the command center. Slowly, a green gas seeped into the room and hung in the air like a deadly visage.
The door gave way under a second explosion and fell to the floor as more gas billowed into the room. Azeroth strode into the room shrouded in green haze. As the humans in the room choked and sputtered their last breathes, he began to search for clues on the governor's whereabouts.
Because of the early warning, the occupants of this room had managed to destroy most of the evidence. Electronic equipment lay smashed and a pile of ash revealed what had happened to any hard copies they might have had.
Azeroth cursed and overturned an adjacent table. Enraged by his ineptness and the stubbornness of these rebels, he drew his weapon and began to fire into the dying men. Shot after shot hit their targets with a soft thud, but offered Azeroth no respite from his anger.
Across the room, a civilian man leaned in the corner and choked on the gas. He wore a robe of purple and clutched a book in one hand. Azeroth leveled his pistol and shot him. The blast refracted off of his chest and struck the wall which only infuriated the marine all the more. Beneath his singed clothes, the marine caught the shine of a metallic object.
He ran and yanked the man to his feet. Angrily, he threw the fool across the room and into a metal cabinet. The defenseless heretic looked up only to find the marine on him yet again. Azeroth picked him up and smashed him back into the cabinet. "What is it that you are hiding under your shirt?" The agent of the Emperor ripped the robe from his victim as the man wheezed incoherently. "Shut up." Azeroth stated dripping in hatred and placed the las pistol in the man's mouth. "I'll find out myself." He pulled the trigger. Around the man's neck a large, silver hoop hung on a chain. The ring had engravings on the inside of if. It was not his native tongue, but Azeroth instantly knew its meaning. Memories flooded back to him in vivid detail. Faces, times, and places whispered secrets that they were unwilling to share not moments before.
In that moment of clarity, a rage unknown to most men crossed Azeroth's face. He gripped the ring in his hand and spun to stare at the rebel remnant in the room. The few survivors would die by his bare hands.