In the Eyes of Men

by Falconwind

Chapter Fourteen

"Walking Together"

Imperial Guard Garrison GSI4452-X5593 (Venerable Base), Minos Corva, Tellaris System

Though Commissar Branch hated to admit it, Steinbech's absence caused him to become most uncomfortable. Now, there was only him and the Inquisitor in the dark room. Branch tried his best to not fidget, but under the attentive, unblinking eyes of the Inquisitor, it was hard, near impossible, to not feel the pressure.

Branch's mouth had gone dry, and he swallowed as if that would help. It didn't.

"Care for something to drink, Commissar?" the Inquisitor asked, startling him.

"Nothing alchoholic, Inquisitor, thank you."

"Actually, I was referring to a glass of water," he said, a slight smirk on his face. "You're mouth is dry, is it not?"

Branch's left eye narrowed, as it did when he was suspicious of someone. "Yes, it happens it is," he said neutrally. /You goddamn mind reader,/ he added mentally.

Inquisitor Gerard visibly frowned. "Now, now, Commissar, it is simply what I do. As an Inquisitor, I'm well within my rights to invade your innermost thoughts."

Branch was taken aback; his suspicion had been founded. "So then, why are we speaking if you may simply suck the knowledge you need from my brain?" Branch said, his hostility growing. He realized, somewhat shockingly, that he was being hostile towards an Inquisitor, and he didn't care.

Gerard seemed to reach into the shadows of the room and pull a glass of water from nowhere. Was there someone else in the room? Branch could not tell.

The water was set upon the table in the center, as if a peace offering.

Branch, who's throat desperately desired the water could not help himself from taking the drink.

He downed it in moments.

"There," said Gerard soothingly, "isn't that better?"

Branch decided that the question did not warrant an answer.

"You know," the Inquisitor began, "I too know General Harrington well. I met him on many occasions during my first mission to this planet. It seems like a lifetime ago. I knew he was a great military mind instantly, and accurately forsaw his rise to the position of Military Commander of Minos Corva."

For some reason, Branch's hostility towards the Inquisitor still remained, he struggled to understand where it came from. "Really? Good for you."

Gerard simply returned to his story. "I came to know him quite well, and indeed we called each other 'friends' for a time." Branch arched an eyebrow. "Then, my mission was complete, and other duties called me away. So I left."

He leaned back and meshed his hands together on his stomach. "I must admit, I knew there was something strange about Harrington. In hindsight, perhaps I should have looked into the matter further. But in any case, I certainly didn't expect him to pull a stunt of this scale."

Branch blinked at the lights that seemed to have brightened. The world seemed to move around him slowly, and he steadied himself with his hands on the table. He knew what was happening before Gerard even mentioned it.

"Oh, I see the drugs are taking effect," he said matter-of-factly. "To answer your earlier question, Branch, I could easily take what I need by psychic means, but it might result in brain damage. These drugs will make it much easier and safer, usually."

All strength from Branch's body seemed to drain from him, leaving him immensely tired, but not at all drowsey. "You bastard!" he said between laboured breaths. "I want to... see General... Carston."

"General Carston does not have the authority to stop me, Commissar Branch. If I so ordered it, I could have him executed for no particular reason other than my own word. I would never do such a thing, of course, but I'm afraid you're quite stuck. And don't worry, the drugs will wear off in a few days, but not until I ask you some questions."

"Suck my..." Branch struggled to finish, but could not.

"Now, tell me everything you know about General Harrington. After all, I have 30 years to catch up on. And I do mean EVERYTHING!"

-----------------------------------

Kamerov and Tokogawa retired to the Colonel's quarters nearby. The room was nice, and well furnished. It was, however, quite small, and little more than a bedroom/office.

"Do you trust him?" asked Tokogawa.

"Who?"

"Horandrin."

Kamerov raised an eyebrow. "The sorcerer? Not particularly, no. Do you?"

"Not at all."

"Not at all? Not in the slightest?" He said, walking over to the liquor cabinet.

"No."

Alexi offered the bottle, and the Admiral politely refused. "Why is that?"

"He's a sorcerer. Isn't that enough?" Tokugawa said, sitting on the colonel's desk.

With a glass of vodka in hand, Kamerov sat down on his bunk. "Is it?"

The admiral's face showed an interesting mixture of shock and puzzlement. "He's a sorcerer!"

Alexi winced against the burning vodka as it slid down his throat. "Yes, you've said that once already."

"You mean to tell me that his being an agent of Chaos doesn't bother you?" he crossed his arms, contemptuously.

"It makes me uncomfortable, yes. Even a little wary," he admitted.

"You certainly don't show it."

"You're right about that. I'm the General's second-in-command; my role is to stand by the General," Kamerov explained, simply. "Are you suggesting I re-think my alliegence?" he asked, half-seriously.

"Nothing so dramatic, Colonel. I simply wish to see you taking in this situation with a little more salt."

"I trust General Harrington, explicitly. He is not a fool. He believes in what the Shadow says. As I recall, you agreed to come on this little adventure of your own free will."

The admiral did not say anything.

"Truthfully, I'm glad you are a skeptic."

"And why is that?"

"You have the same effective rank as the General, more or less. You act as his check and balance. I'm his subordinate, so I don't normally have that luxury." Alexi finished his drink. "I'm glad that you are suspicious, so that I don't have to be."

"Humph."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Admiral, I have some sleep to get."

------------------------------------

Gerard had been merciless, such was the nature of his profession. He had grilled the Commissar for 18 hours straight, and was only now convinced that there was no further information to be gained from his brain.

Of course, this left Commissar Branch with the mental capacity of a stalk of celery. This was hardly surprising, minds did not hold up well to deep, invasive psychic probing. More subtle techniques were available, but Gerard did not have the patience to use them. And he admitted that he was a powerful, but not particularly adept, psychic. By most standards of his comrades, he was somewhat akin to a mace walking amongst rapiers.

Gerard did not think himself especially cold, so he wished the Commissar a speedy recovery. But it would be many weeks before Branch would be able to resume his duties, and it was not unlikely that he would not fully recover.

Perhaps the most frustrating of all was that Branch's suffering had, for the most part, been in vain. While Gerard now had a clearer image of his old friend, he was not at all closer to finding the renegade general or his troops.

Gerard had a respect for how skillfully Harrington had executed his desertion. All those that knew about it had gone with him. And the few that didn't, knew nothing of importance.

And there was the letter too, something Gerard had not expected, but found fitting for a man like Harrington. He was a man of honour, and he was well aware that his actions were treasonous.

Gerard studied the letter once more. He noted the ancient debt, the Shadowatchers, and the description of their quest as a "just, noble, and good" one.

The Inquisitor noticed that this case was different from any other case involving traitor guard; they think they're doing good. All other times, the traitor guardsmen made no attempt to conceal their evil with a cause of righteousness. Usually it was plainly apparant that they had sworn alliegence to a god of Chaos. Sacrifices, bloodthrist, murderous betrayle, there was none of that here.

Gerard firmly believed that they were, nonetheless, traitors and minions of Chaos. But he wondered, could there be truth in the letter, in the legends of Minos Corva? Could there be a god out there that was truly fair and benevolent?

He snorted. "Now, wouldn't that be something?" Gerard mused, quietly. Of course, by principle, he would still have to bring Harrington and his followers to the Emperor's justice, regardless of what there cause was. For, if the cause was not humanity, then it was evil. Of course, if it WERE for humanity's sake, as the letter insisted.... /Bah! How likely would that be?/ He was about to lapse into deep thought when he was suddenly interrupted.

"Inquisitor! Inquisitor!" came an incessant call from behind. He recognized it instantly. He cursed under his breath; he had lost his train of thought.

Commissar Steinbech ran up to the Inquisitor. "Inquisitor Gerard! I've found something that will surely help you in your search for Harrington and his cohorts! Now, he will face the wrath of the Emperor and the Imperium as he-."

"Get to the point, Steinbech!" interrupted the annoyed Inquisitor. After all, he had enough sermon in his life already without a petty commissar preaching to him.

"Uh, yes, I apologize! Here," he handed Gerard a datadisk. "This is a message log from Corona Station."

Slipping the disk into a portable reader, Gerard scanned through the files. "What am I looking for?"

"File number 45403."

He played the audio file, and listened to a whispered, distant voice. Gerard grinned. "So, the Vertolli system, hmm?" He turned to the Commissar. "Excellent work, Commissar. You shall be rewarded for this assistance." /I have you now, Harrington./

Steinbech beamed proudly.

Gerard turned, and started to walk away. "Oh, and Steinbech?"

"Yes, Inquisitor?" he asked with a small smile.

"Never bother me again," he growled.

-------------------------------------

Harrington caught up to the Doom Lords Librarian as they walked out of the conference room. The space marine was headed towards the hanger. "So, Librarian," he said returning to a more formal title, "have you given any thought to the Thousands Sons remaining on the planet?"

"Of course," he replied, "I would be negligent of my duties had I not. I imagine you too have considered the matter."

"If you mean I considered striking against them, yes I did."

"It is tempting, as it is notoriously hard to find the encampments of Chaos Marines." He stopped. "However, we did not bring many men with us. We hadn't anticipated having to go to war on this simple voyage."

"But we did," the general pointed out. "My troops and I knew that battle would be a part of the Debt. You have our services, of course."

The Librarian bowed his head slightly. "Thank you for the offer, but if this threat is indeed as dire as the Shadow insists it to be, then we would do well to conserve our forces. Not that I underestimate the competency of your men, of course," he added quickly.

Harrington surpressed a prideful grin. "Of course."

"Besides, I somehow doubt that Horandrin would be comfortable with the idea. No doubt he'd prefer to convert them, rather than kill them."

"He has killed them before," Harrington pointed out.

"Out of necessity."

Harrington nodded. "For a sorcerer, he is rather surprisingly amiable. I hesistate to anger him, as I wish for us to be on good terms. And he is a rather powerful... man."

The Librarian nodded, neutrally. "If your other troops are as capable as that Sergeant Conrad of yours, we should do quite well in the battles to come."

Harrington chuckled. "Conrad is indeed as sharp as they come, though he is a bit... perculiar."

"How so?"

The general shrugged. "Well, for one thing, he never takes off that damn facemask, as far as I know."

Covan cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Like I said, as far as I know. There are quite a few rumours. Shall I tell you?" asked Harrington, not really seriously.

"Maybe another time."

"Didn't think so. I'll let you go then, Librarian; I've kept you long enough, I think."

"Good night, General."

Harrington glanced at his watch, and a look of surprise flashed on his face. "I've lost track of time. Good night, Librarian." He half pivoted before stopping. "Oh, and are you to return to your ship, or stay onboard?"

"I have not decided."

Harrington nodded, and they each went their seperate ways.

-------

Horandrin walked back to the hanger alone. Covan had gone with the others, but the sorcerer had insisted on returning to his troops.

Every once and a while a passing crewman looked his way with fear in their eyes. Horandrin did not mind, for it was a reaction he had been accustomed to for centuries. His presence was intimidating and frightening, to say the least.

"Hello, sir," came a synthesized voice from behind.

The sorcerer turned, expecting to see a space marine, but instead, looked down to see a stormtrooper, in full combat armour. The armour was a dark grey that seemed suitable for shipboard operations. Instantly, Horandrin realized that the suit was of quite heavy contruction, so much so that they reminded him of Space Marine Scout armour. It was, however, the 'Kasrkin armour' that Covan had mentioned earlier.

Surprised, he still managed to reply, though somewhat awkwardly. "Hello."

There was the pause of mutual hesistation.

"That was quite a display of fighting skills I witnessed in the hanger," the guardsman said, simply.

He knew then that it was one of the guardsmen who had particpated in the battle. He was somewhat intrigued that he was attempting, what sounded like, conversation. "Thank you. Where you to grow as old as I, I think you too would acquire formidable skills."

He shrugged. "I suppose so. Still, it was quite impressive."

Horandrin spotted the man's nametag. It read 'SgM. A. Conrad'. "I'm afraid that I did not witness your fighting, Sergeant Major. I was rather occupied. But as neither myself, nor my counterpart had to tend to any of your men, I would imagine you faired quite well."

"Thank you, we did."

There was another silent moment. "Why are you still in your armour, Segeant Major? I'm curious. Are you expecting trouble?" /From us, perhaps?/ he added silently.

"No, no," Conrad answered, "I always wear my armour."

"Even your facemask?"

There was the a brief hesistation. "Yes."

"I see."

"I have my reasons. Though, nothing so absolute as yours, but nonetheless real," he said, cryptically.

Horandrin nodded.

"In any case, Sorcerer," he said, switching subjects quickly, "there is another reason I sought you out. Apart from my competence on the battlefield, I'm known as being somewhat eccentric, and a rebel of sorts. So, call it a self-indulgance, but I wanted to personally welcome you aboard." He presented his open hand. "I can't think of a more ludicrous thing, can you?" Conrad's amusement was apparent, despite the 'vox box' and his concealed voice.

Horandrin laughed, shaking his head. "Only hardly, Sergeant." And he shook his hand.

"You can fight with me any time, sir," said Conrad. "As long as you leave some for me."

"Agreed."

"Well, this is certainly an extraordinary sight," came a voice. They both turned to see Covan striding towards them with a grin plastered on his face. "Wish I had a camera," he said, half-seriously.

"Hello, sir," Conrad greeted. He did not, however, salute.

Covan wasn't a stickler for protocol, but he did notice it. "Good evening, sergeant. Building bridges, I see."

Conrad chuckled. "Yes, caught in the act. It sounds like you approve."

"Indeed, I do," he said. "I witnessed your troops in action, quite respectable. You've obvisouly been trained well."

"Some of it is training, the rest is experience. But Horandrin was the one who stole the show."

"That is true," agreed Covan.

Horandrin would have blushed if he could. He was not accustomed to admiration or compliments, and it had reached the point were he was now uncomfortable. "Please, do not say so. Many men fought bravely today, I should not be one to steal away their victory."

They nodded. "Of course, Horandrin."

"Right, sir."

"If you will excuse me, I must return to my troops," announced the sorcerer.

"I will accompany you," said Covan. "Do you wish to follow, Sergeant?"

"No, thank you, sir. I've just come back from there, actually. Good night, sirs."

"Good night, Sergeant."

"Good night."

--------

"A perculiar man," commented Horandrin as Covan walked beside him.

"Oh?"

"He wished to welcome me aboard."

Covan smiled. "Harrington told me he was perculiar, I guess he was right."

"He was not afraid," Horandrin added.

Covan raised an eyebrow. "How could you tell?"

He paused. "I could not sense any fear from him. There was an uneasiness at first, but it evaporated rather quickly." The sorcerer shook his head slowly.

"What is it?"

Another pause. "I think he was trying to befriend me."

"That certainly is extraordinary." Covan looked at Horandrin. "You don't seem happy."

"It is unfamiliar to me, after so long."

Covan nodded, understandingly as they approached the hanger entrance. "You need not hurry with your feelings, Horandrin. Unlike the rest of us, you have all the time in the world."

-----------------------------------------

Daleon had found Braxton in a neighbouring hangerbay. They had not talked since coming aboard the Redoubtable.

"How are you faring, Sergeant?" Daleon asked without preamble.

Braxton did not turn to face the sorcerer as he surveyed his unit. "As well as can be expected. I've done more adjusting in the last few hours than I have in centuries." He finally turned around. "And what about you?"

"A similar story on my part. Calderon is not taking this well, it seems," he replied. They looked over at the dreadnought, standing perfectly still next to Horandrin's thunderhawk.

"He is the oldest among us," pointed out Braxton. "He has memories older than ourselves. Memories of the Adeptus Astartes, or the Thousand Sons before we... well, you know."

Daleon nodded. "At first, I thought that would make the transition easier, but it appear I was mistaken."

"What did he say?"

Daleon cast a look at the sergeant. "What makes you think he said anything?"

"Didn't he?"

"He did. However, what he said was in confidence. I don't think I should repeat it."

"I see." Braxton sat down heavily on a box of ammunition. "Let me remind you that any problem on his part constitutes a problem on our part."

The sorcerer considered his words. "A problematic dreadnought is indeed a frightening thought." He paused, considering whether or not to keep it to himself. "He said that we should not trust these Doom Lords; that they mean to betray us."

"It is sound advice," commented Braxton. "But hardly the advice we need to hear. I'll keep an eye on him, for all our sakes."

Just then, the access doors opened, revealing Horandrin and Covan. They walked in, side by side, regarded each other and went to their respective camps.

Horandrin gestured Daleon and Braxton over, and they came promptly.

"Some developements, my friends. We will all be going to Evernight, it seems."

"Evernight?"

"The Doom Lords' homeworld," he explained.

Daleon was silent for a moment. "I see."

Horandrin would have frowned. "That is not exactly the response I was expecting."

"Horandrin, do you not think... well, perhaps we are moving too quickly?" Daleon asked quietly. "I am not arguing with your decision, I simply think that you should consider our situation."

"Our situation?"

Daleon nodded. "If I may play Tzeentch's advocate for a moment. We have only known these Doom Lords and these Guardsmen for mere hours. Are we so desperate as to throw ourselves unto their charity and good will?"

"Are we not? Are we not in need of some charity, as undeserving as we may be?"

"Yes, we need help, Horandrin, I do not dispute that. But my point is this: can we trust them?" Daleon asked seriously.

Horandrin regarded Daleon's skepticism with concerned intrigue. "I believe we can. The Emperor's minions do not take to deception. If they are anything, it is straightforward. But I am starting to wonder, perhaps, if they should trust us." He stared at Daleon. "Your thoughts trouble me, Daleon. And I do not need telepathy to know that."

Daleon looked down for a moment. "I'm sorry Horandrin. It is just that... Calderon is not as confident as you. Let us say that he is taking the Doom Lords' generousity with less than veiled skeptism."

"I see. And what of you, my friend?"

"Calderon is wise to distrust these people, Horandrin. Because it seems you cannot, or will not do so." He looked away for a moment. "I must also insist on caution. We have fought beside them, we have died beside them, and that accounts for much. But we have been betrayed before. I do not want it to happen again."

"Nor do I, Daleon. But we cannot be afraid to walk if we might fall. The Thousand Sons must walk, or our freedom will be wasted and this chance for redemption spoiled." Horandrin placed a heavy armoured hand on Daleon's shoulder. "You DO want redemption don't you?"

He nodded. "Yes, Horandrin. More than... anything."

"Then we must walk the path given to us. Walk with me, Daleon." He squeezed his shoulder for effect. "Walk with me and don't look back."

He nodded. "I will walk with you, Horandrin. But you walk with your eyes focused miles away. I walk with my eyes placed on the road ahead. I do this for you, and all of us, Horandrin. Please know that."

"I do, Daleon. Thank you." He turned to the other marine, who had been standing patiently nearby. "Braxton, tell the others that they should dust off their social skills."

Braxton chuckled at the ironic choice of words. "Yes, sir. And what of Calderon?"

"Keep an eye on him."

"My thoughts, exactly, sir."

---------------------------

Covan stepped into the open Thunderhawk, and put his helmet on an empty bench. He unstrapped the sword at his hip and placed it next to his prized force axe. /The one time I use my sword, and it nearly gets cleaved in half./ he mused.

"Perhaps you should use your axe from now on, then," came a familiar voice from behind.

"Shadow. I thought you had business elsewhere," he said turning.

The Shadow stepped out of his seclusion. "This is elsewhere, is it not? And you are my business."

"You should not come to me in this form. As benevolent as you are, my brothers do not understand you. The Thousand Sons, yes. But not you."

"It is fine," he said sitting down. "They will not remember my connection to you."

Covan frowned. "I don't approve of you tampering with their minds."

"I would not do so, normally. But it is necessary. There are no ill effects when a being such as myself does so. My powers are as accurate as an atomic clock, Covan."

"By principle, then."

"I know, and I apologize. It is, however, the least invasive means I have."

Covan sighed. "I know." He retrieved a ration bar from a storage cabinet mounted in the bulkhead. The bar was the size and colour of a brick. "What is it that you want?"

"Only to tell you that you are performing your duties admirably."

"I would still be here even if you never entered my life," he pointed out. He took a large bite of the reddish bar and chewed slowly.

"I do not doubt that, Covan. I do not control your life. This was the agreement, and it is still honoured."

Covan remained silent.

"Something troubles you, Covan?" the Shadow asked, concerned.

"Nothing."

"Covan, you can tell me, and I will listen, as I always have."

Covan nodded. "I am not sure if inviting them was such a good idea. The offer was made in haste."

"Would you like my opinion as a friend, or as a omnipotent being?"

Covan laughed. "I suppose both would be useful."

"My opinion is that your offer, made in haste as it was, is genuine. And that it will be a time for celebration, and not bloodshed between you. I think you made the right decision." He rose from his seat. "Get some rest, Covan. You will need it."

"For what?" he asked, but the Shadow was already gone.

---------------------------

I've been super-mega-ultra busy for the longest time. I'm working with a friend to open up a business, so I've had little time for much else. Rest assured that I'm still writing here and there, and I WILL finish this story.

In recent chapters, I've digressed from the Thousand Sons, and after the next chapter they will be back in the spotlight.

btw, I apologize that the formatting is a bit inconsistent between chapters. doesn't allow indents anymore, and even when I indent with spaces it strips them out. Also, I usually seperate scenes with two blank lines, but makes them all one blank line. Basically has a stupid formatting system. I don't know who the idiot is, but obviously he's never actually written anything.

So without further delay, the review responses:

Ivan Alias: I'm not actually sure when it's set in relation to the 13th Crusade, I hadn't thought about it. Safe to say before. Actually, I'm drawing a blank in regards to anythig to do with the 13th Crusade, I only recognize the term. Yes, the Space Wolves may make an appearance. About the dividers, is TOTALLY SCREWING up my formating (read above).

son-goku5: thanks, haven't seen yours, so I can't comment. I'll look for it so I can confirm your opinion :P hehe

Void Dragon: Hi, thanks for reviewing. How many ships? Tell me how many people can fit in a Luna Class and I'l tell you how many there are ;). Yes, I'm well aware that there are no female space marines, I think someone already mentioned that to "put me in my place". However, this is a deliberate aspect of the Doom Lords, not a mistake. However, the Doom Lords are NOT MY CHARACTERS. They belong to That Swedish Guy, so complain to him about it. And as a matter of fact, clones (ie. genetic twins) do not have to be the same gender. Case in point, fraternal twins. (you know, like Luke and Leia).

Irn-Bru: Hey, glad to hear that you like the story and are finding it helpful! Thanks for your vote of confidence! I too have been experimenting with standard marines with Chaos colour schemes.

EpsilonDragon: Wow, you're finding inspiration in this story too huh? Uh oh, pressure! Thanks for reviewing, and I WILL be putting more chapters up... perhaps slowly, but they will go up.

duckmasta2020: Indeed, Shadow is the only God of Light still around, the others fate is unspecified, but sufficed to say that they are in no shape to oppose the Gods of Chaos... hence why Chaos is rampant. As for piquing your interest... that's the idea! :D I reel ya in! I may even tell that story after this story is done.

Thalanox: Uh, heh, yeah... I know... it's been horribly long. But I've been busy (read above). Don't worry, the story is still going.

That Swedish Guy: Ow! Ow! Okay, okay, here! Sheesh! :P

So that's it for now, but toon in next week for the next exciting adventure of the Thousand Sons! Same Chaos time! Same Chaos channel!

(and I DO mean next week).