I AM SOOOOOO SORRY!!! I lost the disk my stories was on. I just found it behind my fridge (don't ask).
In the Eyes of Men
by Falconwind
Chapter Four
"Interlude"
The library was deathly quiet, as all libraries are. However, the one belonging to the Thousand Sons, was perhaps a little more so. Currently there was no one but a lone sorceror inhabiting the vast archive. But this soon changed with the entrance of a sergeant, whom promptly stood at attention before the reading sorceror.
"Ah, Sergeant Braxton, what brings you to the library this fine morning?"
The sergeant, for his part, gave Horandrin the strangest look possible with the lack of an articulated face.
Horandrin, for his part, savoured Braxton's speechlessness. "Perhaps there is something you wish to tell me?"
Braxton had to consciously bring back his previous train of thought. "Yes, I did. Lord Daleon sent me to tell you that we may not have a means of getting a ship afterall."
"That is not good news."
"I know. But it seems we will have to find some other means of getting off the planet."
A moment of silence passed. "Was there anything else, sergeant?"
"No."
"Pity," he said, returning to his book. "I thought perhaps you came for a book as well."
"Not today, sir."
"Then carry on, sergeant."
Braxton did not move. "With all due respect, sir, don't you find this distressing?"
"Extremely, sergeant," replied Horandrin without looking up. "However, what would you have me do? Run around screaming like a woman? I have devoted much time to the puzzle you speak of, and at present, I do not think any further thought would yield results. Is that to your satisfaction, sergeant?"
Braxton crossed his arms and planted his feet. "As a matter of fact, it is not, sir."
This did manage to bring Horandrin's eyes up. "Is that so? Well, a thousand apologies, oh powerful sergeant. I will endeavor to serve you better in the future," he said sarcastically.
"You'd better, Master Horandrin. Because all of our futures are in your hands. I, for one, don't like having the captain 'asleep at the helm'."
At this, Horandrin slammed his book shut in a cloud of dust. "How dare you! I will-"
"What? What will you do?" challenged Braxton. "Both you and I know you are not the same Horandrin that would have killed me five seconds ago. The Light of Revelation changed you. It changed all of us. Whether or not that was intentional, I don't know, but what's done is done. You aren't like that anymore, so stop pretending." Braxton planted his hands on the table, and met Horandrin's fiery glare measure for measure. "You have responsibilities, sir. And if you neglect them, even for an instant, you might make our new lives a short one! You have duties, sir. I am simply a man that is reminding you of them, for all our sakes!"
Horandrin grabbed the Thousand Son by the collar of his armour, and pulled him threateningly close. "You, sergeant, are- are-"
"Right," said Braxton, far too calmly.
Horandrin smoldered for a moment longer and released him roughly.
"You know I'm right, sir."
"Get out, I have work to do," Horandrin growled.
Braxton bowed respectfully, and left.
/He's right, you know,/ the voice said.
He sighed wearily. "No one asked for your opinion," replied Horandrin, irritated.
/But you have it, nevertheless./
"Unfortunately. Who are you?"
/A friend, I assure you./
Horandrin scoffed. "I find that hard to believe."
/Why?/
"I know nothing of you or your motives. And I must say that I do not appreciate you speaking to me in my mind."
/It is my only means at this time./
"I cannot possibly trust a person I know nothing about. In fact, I cannot be sure if you are even a person. How do I know you are not Tzeentch himself?" Horandrin said suspiciously.
The was quiet laughter. /You don't./
"I have had quite enough of you! I shall not allow this any further!" With that, Horandrin closed his mind to all psychic emmanations around him. He felt weak, and alone, but he knew that it would most likely keep the intruder out of his thoughts.
/That won't work./
This time, Horandrin actually stood. He could no longer tolerate this casual tresspassing of his mind. "Leave me!"
/It is necessary that I be able to communicate with you./
"You claim to be my friend, then I ask you to leave my mind! Or else find another way to communicate!"
And once again, there was silence.
Horandrin remained still, thoroughly disturbed. Whoever, or whatever the mysterious friend was, he was powerful. Much more so than Horandrin or Daleon. Horandrin now wondered if Daleon had any contact with the voice.
/No, he has not. And do not share my existence with anyone./
"And why is that?" he asked, more suspicion creeping into his voice.
/They will not trust me./
"I do not even trust you."
/You will, Horandrin. I apologise for angering you. For what it is worth, I can assure you I have no malice towards you, or your followers. I shall leave you now./
Horandrin grumbled, and hoped the entity was indeed gone, for now at least.
"Why me?" he asked himself in despair, and partly to test if anyone would answer. No one did.
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It was late in the evening now. The sun had set long ago, and the corridors of the fortress were dim, matching perfectly their thoroughly medievil decor and achitecture.
For the past few hours, Horandrin had been walking, or rather pacing, in a long, wide circle about the base. His body handled the walking, while his mind was completely devoted to the problem at hand.
A lesser commander would have simply settled on the idea of attempting to steal a spaceship by sheer brute force. But any sane person would figure out quickly that that was a disaster waiting to happen.
One could argue that applying brute force was a typical space marine tactic, for both Chaos and Imperial varieties. But not the Thousand Sons, they preferred finesse, skill, and precision. The problem with brute force tactics is that it usually involved a lot of death on both sides. The tactics they normally employed were generally safer than those of other space marine legions or chapters. This, of course, was seen often as cowardice. Horandrin, and most other rational commanders, saw it simply as efficiency. The less troops lost is more troops fighting, after all.
And also, brute force tactics usually required one main thing: strength in numbers. A luxury that Horandrin's followers did not have.
Besides, Horandrin could not afford to lose even a single man. They weren't just clever automatons anymore. No, once again, they truly had choice. And their lives were precious and not to be wasted needlessly. If anything, Horandrin wanted to avoid as much fighting as possible.
They could indeed, trick the captain of a vessel, just as Sergeant Braxton had suggested. But since there was no vessel with a captain to trick, that idea was on hold. But at least it was a good, workable idea, and Horandrin was thankful for that.
But they could not bring a ship to them, that was out of the question. So the only alternative Horandrin could think of, was simply waiting for the right time. That idea, however, was not at all appealing.
"Horandrin!" came a somewhat distressed shout from behind. It was Daleon.
Horandrin turned to meet the voice. "Daleon? What is it?"
Daleon sprinted the rest of the way to Horandin. "We have trouble."
"Trouble?" he asked curiously. Then his mood darkened. "What sort of trouble?"
"The bad kind."
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To be continued...
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Oooo! What will happen next??? You'll have to wait to find out!
But I have to say I'm extremely pleased at the progress I've made with the stories. This appears to be one of the few stories where I have an awesome streak. Well, don't forget to review, people! Chow!