A/N: Sorry about the schedule slip! We're back, everyone!
So let's get to it! :D
Book Two: Corruption's End
Chapter 19: Duty Above All Else
"Legion are His foes… and legion are His subjects. The differences between them are countless, but faith and duty are chief among them." – Commissar Ingrid Hauptmann
The Cathedral bells sung out their panicked cry, and Shao-la descended into chaos. The Woadian 111th scrambled for their weapons, their respite forgotten. The city square, which had been full of frivolity only hours ago, was now packed with grim and determined troopers, black-clad and ready to give battle. The civilians that had greeted them with joyful enthusiasm marched alongside the column of soldiery, which stormed down the streets to aid the local garrison in its defense of the city.
Officers bellowed orders and boots hurried along the puddle-studded street, hard leather splashing and spraying rainwater as they rushed forwards. Yang was jogging behind Jorvis and Ros, her lasgun shouldered and power sword at the ready. Word from the Colonel had gone out on all the vox-channels: the enemy had returned, and in great force.
Weiss sure knows how to pick 'em, doesn't she? She shook the thought away, which released droplets of water from the long strands of blonde hair that spilled out from underneath her helmet. The rain still drizzled over Shao-la, but it had slackened since the revelry a few hours ago.
A single woman cried out in song, the voice of a local. As her chant died away, antother echoed the cry, joined by a hundred others. The hymn swelled around them as they marched, the words a hearth-hum of chanting voices. Yang couldn't make out the words, but she knew well enough what they sung of. War. War and cleansing. They steeled her heart all the same, if not for their content but for what they represented. The choral thrum was the hope that the citizens placed in them.
The In My Spirit passed them, its huge tracks spitting mud as it overtook the Woadian infantry. Its commander, a pale hiver from Elodia, shook his fist in righteous furor as he passed. The rest of the tanks followed him, the weight of their passing filling Yang's chest with a gut-churning roar.
Inwardly, she wondered how useful they'd be. If they were under siege, the heavy MBTs wouldn't be much use. They were too wide for the ramparts on top of the walls, and the press of buildings within them limited their mobility. At least they're good for morale. She thought as the last tank, Sweet Sonjja rolled past. The natives stared after the hulking masses of steel with reverential awe, and many had slapped fluttering prayer flags to their chassis and cannons.
The local soldiery that had greeted them also filled the streets, shoring up the barricades and defenses they'd constructed. As the looming walls grew taller, the 111th split apart, divided into their companies by Major Hrakksson and Commissar Daniloft. The two officers stood atop a wooden palisade that stood before the main gate, gesturing and shouting into vox-casters.
When Gamma platoon received their directions, Yang noticed the Commissar only gave her a second look that was due to the only 'Woadian' over six feet tall. He didn't seem to recognize her from their struggle in Primum Mobilus. She shivered. It reeked of Weiss.
"Good news, Gamma platoon!" Major Hrakksson bellowed, putting his hands on his hips. "You're gettin' front-row seats to the shit show! Personal orders from the Colonel. You and the rest of First Company are on Gate-watch!"
"SIR, YES SIR!" They replied, saluting. Daniloft eyed them all as they marched to the elevator that would bear them to their posting, looking down his long aquiline nose. Yang shrugged off the glare, following Ros onto the primitive contraption that would take them up.
"Oh, this is a bad idea." Asgeg said, going green in the face. Her hands wrenched at the dark wood that framed the box that would bear them aloft. Yang didn't blame her. This 'elevator' looked like it had been used every day… for centuries.
But besides Asgeg vomiting over the edge, their ascent was uneventful. Yang kept puzzling over Hrakksson's words. The Colonel had specifically wanted Gamma platoon to guard the gate? Is it because of me? With the grind of metal links on a worn pulley, the elevator reached its destination. The ramparts were huge, at least fifteen yards across, forged from solid metal and stone. Definitely Imperial engineering. Both woadian and Ranshan troops milled about the gatehouse, stocking ammunition or praying quietly.
Yang saw why. The LZ she'd left only hours ago was now flooded with marching soldiers, thousands upon thousands of them. They crushed the blue-green grass under their sheer weight, crawling steel beetles in twisted, primitive armor. A veritable sea of apostates, their countless fluttering banners bearing repulsive symbols and abhorrent prayers. Siege machines crested the distant hills, towering contraptions built from pale wood and bristling with spikes. Drums by the hundreds sounded, a constant thrum that echoed against the walls of Shao-la.
"Looks like we're in for a bit of a tussle." Yang said, trying not to let shock rule her voice. She had never seen so many people in one place before. There were two hundred thousand at least. Even more approached as they emerged from the horizon, cresting green hills in their legions. And every single one of the warp-spawned bastards was heading straight for Gamma platoon.
"Bit of a tussle, she says." Caolin mumbled, throat working. Mael swallowed in agreement. No shit, he seemed to say. "Are we supposed to kill all of them?" He asked. Yang clapped him on the back.
"I'm sure once they get sight of you, they'll be running right back over those hills." She said. Ros snorted, eyes wide and blinking at the sight before them.
"Enough lollygagging, ladies!" Jorvis said, waving his chainsword at them. "The Colonel wants us to hold the gatehouse, so by the Emperor, we're going to hold this fucking gatehouse!" He smiled his shark's smile. "Wouldn't trust it to anyone else now could we?" A few weak chuckles. "I want thirty men in the windows on the gatehouse. Everyone else, stay on the flanking walls. When they come for us," he said, pausing to sweep them with his metal eye, "and they will come for us. We will be ready. Set watches, and try to get some sleep. We got a lot of killin' to do, huh?"
"Yes sir!" They replied.
"That's some weak-ass groxshit, boys!" He bellowed back. "Hell, I'm glad there's so many! It's time to do our Emperor-given duty and butcher some fucking heretics!"
"YES SIR!" Gamma platoon cried, their sergeant's reminder lifting their spirits a little. Yang's squad was stuck on the wall to the left of the gatehouse, right next to Delta and Epislon platoons. Her friends sat down, inspecting their gear, counting ammo cells and grenades. Yang walked over to the edge of the battlements, leaning through a firing slit to appraise their enemy. Her hair whipped against the wall as the wind returned.
So many. Against how many of us? Eight thousand? And how many local pikemen do we have on our side? Six thousand? Ten thousand? She snorted. If we're lucky. If I wasn't here, I'd actually be worried, she thought, grinning.
No way they're gonna starve us out either. They wouldn't have built those rickety-ass war machines if they aren't gonna use 'em. She shivered against Ember Celica. It was going to be one hell of a fight.
With a roar, Weiss' Valkyrie swooped over to Gamma platoon's position, its engines blaring blue flame. Extending a landing ramp, it swiveled around to reveal her red-robed acolyte, the man named Ira. Colonel von Israfel accompanied him, shoulders hunched. Behind them, the Woadian command retinue filled the troop bay.
Crossing the ramp, they joined the guardsmen on the ramparts, silent and foreboding.
"Officer present!" Ros screamed. Snapping up, Gamma platoon stood rigid, giving stiff salutes to the incoming officers.
"At ease, Corporal." Ira said. Still, her eyes darted over to von Israfel, who gave her a curt nod. Only then did they stand at ease. "Where is your commanding officer?"
"Right here, my Lord." Jorvis said, striding out from within the gatehouse. "How can we be of assistance?" A hand appeared from within the acolyte's robes, waving away the sergeant's offer.
"I am merely here to observe the enemy." Yang couldn't place it, but something seemed off about his voice. It seemed… unnatural. With several long strides, he reached the edge of the walls, standing next to Yang. He nodded. "Trooper Yang."
"Ira." He chuckled, which made Yang realize the source of her unease. The sound was distinctly mechanical. Ira waved the Colonel forward, who almost tripped himself in his haste to obey.
"Look Colonel, their 'assault' has already begun." Yang's head snapped around at his words. Sure enough, an enormous catapult squeaked forward, pushed by hundreds of grunting soldiers. Her hand tightened around her lasgun. So soon?
"No cannon?" Longinus asked. The red hood shook.
"Most of these men are enlisted from the local powers. An outside force has granted them a bevy of more standard weaponry, but even our Lady would struggle to arm the army you see before you. Most still carry the weapons their feudal masters have given them." The catapult rolled forward, directly towards the gatehouse.
"Should we take care of them?" Yang asked. They were just within range of lasgun fire.
"No, not yet." Ira replied. "I don't think a singular catapult, no matter how large, is a threat to us. I suspect they have a different goal in mind." After five minutes of waiting, the war machine deployed, its engineers scrambling and hustling to construct it.
"Are you… waiting for something?" Yang said.
"Be silent, Trooper." Colonel von Israfel snapped. She nodded, already ignoring his words.
"I am. I want to see if I'm correct about their intentions." With a wooden groan that could be heard across the grounds, the weapon fired, hurling a group of projectiles at the walls of Shao-la. Yang's mouth fell open in horror.
Heads. Heads by the hundreds hammered against the city walls, tarred-black and twisted in terror. Some struck a few unlucky wodians, splattering against their flak armor, where they burst apart in a shower of maggots and pus. The smell turned Yang's nose, and she felt bile climb up the ladder of her throat. Her shoulder burned as well, concealed under the pauldron of her flak armor.
"Holy God-Emperor!" Someone cried. Many of her comrades spilled the contents of their lunch onto the ramparts, their faces ashen and pale. Even von Israfel shuddered, clutching at his stomach and grimacing. Ira, however, lifted his head, allowing the hood to fall away from his face. Metal implants and wires uncountable covered his head, stopping just short of his hairline. A mane the color of his robes spilled over it all, thick and tangled with yet more wiring.
He was smiling.
"Ira?" Yang asked.
"Our Lady tells me to expect unpredictability from the arch-foe. This… was expected. It's almost disappointing." He turned to the gatehouse. "Open the gates!" With a groan, they did, giant doors swinging open under their feet.
"Lord Ira…" Longinus said, stepping forward to face the acolyte. Instead of replying, Ira spoke into his microbead.
"Lieutenant Varo… welcome our guests."
"Yes, my Lord!" He answered immediately. The Spirit thundered below them, and the catapult shattered into a thousand splintered fragments, its crew vaporized by a high-explosive shell. A cheer rose up from the battlements, hewn from thousands of throats. The survivors scrambled back to heretic lines, some limping, some bleeding. Some remained as piecemeal in the blue-green grass.
"Close the gates!" Ira bellowed. The gatekeepers echoed his cry, hastening to obey his command. The doors slammed shut, ringing with resolute finality. "And that is the welcome we will give the heretic. Fire and steel." His words were met with a cheer from Gamma platoon. Even Yang grinned. I think I have an idea about why she picked this guy.
War-horns sounded in the night, now on their eighth hour of trumpeting. Yang rubbed her eyes. She wished she could shove the horns so far up their owners' collective asses that they'd speak in nothing but stunted toots until she mashed their fucking skulls together. It was the second hour of her watch. Ros sat next to her, sipping shitty recaf in a tin mug as she peered through the battlements. Campfires burned at their backs, lit by Gamma platoon to huddle around.
Frosted breath spilled from the two women, sliding past the ramparts to fade away beyond the wall. Ros was as dour as ever, scowling at the heretic camps. She was watching the thousands of campfires that burned beyond the walls of Shao-la, a forest of reddish-orange embers. Her lasgun sat next to her, leaning against the battlements.
"How're you doing, Ros?" Yang whispered.
"I'm cold, I'm hungry, and I'm staring down enough heretics to plug the Eye of Terror. So you know. Okay." She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
"What's it like being filled with so much joy all the time?" Yang asked. Ros snorted. It almost sounded like laughter. "Seriously though, what's got you down?"
"You mean besides the legion of pillage-hungry murder machines out there?" She replied, jerking her thumb at the campfires. Yang rolled her eyes.
"You got really quiet today. Before the asshole convention started. C'mon. You can tell me." Ros sighed, trying to warm her hands with the vapor escaping her lips. She shook her head. "Ros, please. I'm your friend." She turned to Yang.
"I miss… I miss my husband, okay? We've been deployed for almost six months now, and every day, every hour, I wonder how he's doing. How the field's coming along. How… If he's remembering to keep the harvester full up on coagulant." She paused, her words struggling to escape her working throat. "He always forgets." Her hands met her face and she sobbed into her frigid fingers.
"Hey, C'mon Ros." Yang threw her arm around her friend. "Shhh. It's okay. Sorry for pressing."
"It's… okay. T-thanks." She said, leaning into the embrace. Sniffling, she wiped at her weeping eyes. "I'm sorry. I just try to keep it down, you know? Shit's fucking tough." She gave a weak, warbling laugh.
"We'd be lost without ya, Ros." Yang said, patting her on the back. Ros smiled, dabbing at her eyes again.
"Damn straight." She took a long breath. "You… you didn't leave anyone behind on Woadia, did you? You never really talk about that kind of thing."
"Well… it… I… hm." The question stumped her. Yang never dealt with serious relationship stuff back on Remnant, let alone in the Imperium. She liked her freedom, after all. Torrid flings and one-night stands were more her style. But since she'd arrived in the Imperium, she'd been on the longest dry spell since she was twenty. Why is that? It's not like I'm short on opportunity… "I guess I didn't." Ros sniffled, giving her a weak smile.
"I guess you're all the better for it." She said. Yang shrugged, jostling her friend as she wore her most radiant smile.
"Maybe, maybe not. Really should get laid though, it's been too long."
"I find that hard to believe, considering you look like… well…" Ros waved her hand at Yang. "That." Yang laughed, tresses of golden hair flashing in the light of the watch fires.
"Why, that almost sounds like you're offering." Ros snorted again.
"Oh, please." Yang waved her hands, dismissing her friend's complaints.
"No, no. Go ahead." Lightning quick, she clasped Ros' hand, leaning in as she did so. "Don't think I can't swing both ways. And don't pretend that you don't want me." She said, her words a sultry whisper.
"Yang…" Ros breathed, her red-rimmed eyes spread in fear. Yang edged forward, closer and closer. She nuzzled past the mane of curly red hair, brushing her lips against the Woadian's ears.
"Kidding."
"Oh fuck off!" Ros cried, shoving Yang away with a burst of laughter. Yang giggled too, clapping the Corporal's back.
"I had you going though, didn't I?"
"Emperor above!" Yang laughed again, relishing the brief glimpse of levity that shone through Ros' smile. She nudged her, curiosity furrowing her brow. "You don't actually…" She coughed awkwardly. "Uh… do it with chicks though, do you?"
"Oh no, I totally do." Ros' jaw dropped low enough to scrape against the Spirit. "Where I come from, it's not all that unusual. I do prefer guys though, to be totally honest." They just fit my tastes more frequently.
"I… uh… wow."
"Let me guess, not all that common in Bardigaal?" Ros shook her head.
"Not very. Emperor, I don't think we've had the type in… ages." Yang shrugged.
"Your loss, babe." She said, winking at Ros, who rolled her eyes. "Seriously though, married people –men or women– are off limits. You're safe. Plus, you're my friend. I wouldn't seriously consider fucking that up." In another life, plenty of Beacon students assumed she'd been sleeping with Blake, but they were mistaken. Their bond was far beyond that. They were best friends, fiercely loyal and practically inseparable. Until I threw it all away. The thought soured her mood, but she did her best to put on a brave face for Ros. She wasn't done cheering her up.
"And I promised I'd bring you back, you know. It'd be embarrassing if I had to explain your infidelity to your husband… as the source of your infidelity." She joked. The corner of Ros' mouth twitched, but instead of smiling, she just stared out at the campfires.
"How can you keep that promise? In case you haven't heard, the Black Crusade is still on. And we have a whole Emperor-damned army camped a few hundred yards away." Yang smiled for her friend, her lilac eyes meeting Ros'
"I keep my promises." The lie passed her lips with ease, the same lie she told Ruby when things looked their darkest. 'I'll keep you safe.' She'd said, the words a mockery that haunted her dreams, words that dripped with blood that was red like roses. Before Ros could notice that tears were brewing, she pulled her into a tight hug. "I keep my promises."
A/N: Sorry for the shorter chapter today... as well as blue-balling you on all the siege-battle goodness. There's some stuff I wanted to get to, and it wouldn't mesh tonally if I mashed the next chapter in with this one. This is kind of in line with something else I'm trying to do with this fic, which is explore some areas of life in the 41st millennium not often visited in the Black Library (while also staying within the kind of story you might find there). A lot of 40k canon comes off as impersonal and sexless when it comes to characterization, which made a lot (but not all, mind you!) of books feel a bit lacking in that department. I realize War is the focus here, but I feel like portraying people a tad more realistically can't hurt.
Also, no, don't get your hopes up, Yang was definitely just messing with Ros. XD But yeah, that's how I see Yang's sexuality, at least how it seems to be in the show.
As for why the heretic army isn't already rofl-stomping Shao-la, there's story reasons for this, but they won't be visited just yet. I promise there's good reason!
I hope you enjoyed, and please, let me know what you think! :D
Review Replies:
DanAbnettFan1997: Thank you! Stay tuned, there's some crazy stuff headed your way!
shadow2777: I'm not entirely sure if that's how it works...
OBSERVER01: It's still incoming! Next chapter, I promise!
Gafgar: A good comparison! We'll see how it plays out!
the metaphysical god of heroes: True, an interesting idea... but I don't think I'll be bringing in new Chaos gods anytime soon!
Galm: Maion will be back in due time!
TheSpawn117: Maybe next chapter... maybe never. :O
reality deviant: Sorry for once again leaving you in suspense!
DeusImperator92: Thank you!
Hypothetical Spiritual Entity: Hahahaha glad you like him! I guess we'll see how it all plays out.
Mintskittle: Good on you for getting the minor details! The bagpipes are actually Ranshan, but yes, Woadian culture is based off of 'Scandanavian Scotland', a period of time in which viking settlers colonized (and IIRC, ruled) Scotland. And yes, the Elodians showed up! Turns out they were a little useful after all. I also agree about the GK... they're way too much. :P
coalface: I'm glad that everyone's speaking proper grammar! XD Seriously though, thank you so much for your kind words! They really mean a lot, and definitely help push this story along! As to Aura rating for the main two teams (of course, this is all my opnion), it goes Ruby-Jaune-Yang-Pyrrha-Weiss-Ren-Blake-Nora.
Destrark: Thank you! It was too much fun to do!
doorp: Thanks for popping by! Your praise means a lot! I put a lot of time into this! haha
BackwardsHazard: That's hilarious.
6thKazekage: Awesome, so glad yo have you here! Hope you enjoyed today's chapter! :D
Nemris: End-plotter is my own little epitaph for Tzeentch, it doesn't mean he plans for the end, but rather at the end of all plots, you will find his touch. Does that make sense?
Parks98: Hope you're still with me! Glad to have you!
RED Roman Pyro: Agreed! I knew that when I started this story I wanted to visit a feudal world!
jboone93: Thanks so much! I try to keep the RWBY fans in the know about lore stuff, but sometimes it's impossible. And while it's true Astropaths are usually the only ones to undergo Soul Binding, Weiss was under extenuating circumstances...
Thank you so much, everyone! I love hearing what you have to say! :D