Hi! I was and stil am to a degree seriously ill. I am back from hospital, but I need more time to fully recuperate. I try to keep the Saturday updates going. Have fun!
California, 24.12.2015
The old man was not a happy man. Last night`s dream had been so realistic that he had awoken cold and shivering. It had pushed nearly every button he had and unlike his normal dreams he had remembered it as clearly as anything he did awake, if not better. Yet the mild Californian weather had brought his spirits up and he actually was looking forward to a good night`s sleep to make good on the last one.
Which made him even more unhappy when he emerged into the setting of his last dream again. Just this time it seemed that his two dreams had merged into one. He recognized the plaza and the cathedral at its end, but this time the whole area was more than well lit by thousands of lamps and lights. Lights that illuminated stands, lights that formed trees, reindeer, Santa Claus or incongruously a hammer.
A great crowd was milling through the paths that were lines by the many wooden stands and a diverse crowd it was. Humans in what he thought of as normal cold-weather gear, humans in tunics and cloaks, partial armor and cloaks, robes of all colors and descriptions-they were all there. He stayed to the outskirts of the Christmas Market and tried to find the spot he had ended his dream yesterday. He did not find it exactly but a lot of very similar-looking buildings. He also found more than a few burned-out ruins and spots where more of such ruins had been removed. This city must have seen a hell of a fight sometime in the not so recent past. What he did not see was any more freezing homeless. There had been a beggar or two at the market, but in the more quite side streets there were none.
He was able to see much more this time as at least the major roads had some illumination, a huge change from the last time. His way brought him back to the huge plaza where he found the doors to the cathedral open and no longer barred by halberds.
Chancing a view inside he found a service that seemed to attract a bigger audience than before. One side of the pews were taken by handicapped people. Given that many more men were in this block the old man would wager these were veterans. Somebody who by his rich garb and entourage had to be the priest of this gathering was moving down these pews and handling out small packages together with handshakes. At first he thought the priest wore a cross but a closer look revealed it to be a hammer.
Still disoriented, still ill at ease even when the scene of this dream was less depressing than last year he drifted into the Christmas market proper. It was like others he had seen before and it was not at the same time. The stalls were the same if one discounted the very beautiful carving that many of them displayed. The push of the crowd and the many children were the same, but his nose told him that soap and deodorant were not used so much as what he was used to. Funny wise it was not so bad as one would expect as if some of the people he jostled with actually used such things when he did not expect them to.
There was a nativity scene all right, but also a statue of an armored warrior wielding a hammer and another one which showed a dove. The latter had bigger stall in front of it and some robed women who were obviously asking for donations. He stepped backwards to avoid a group of what seemed to be Vikings just to bump into somebody else. He found himself face to face with a burly middle-sized man in the same robes as the women in front of him and a short blonde woman at his side.
The man had found his balance back and looked at him.
"Frohes Fest, geht es Ihnen gut?"
The old man had to think back to German lessons he had quite some time ago and managed to make out "Merry Christmas, are you well?" after a few seconds.
"Thanks, mir geht es gut"
„Might you be more comfortable in english Sir?"
"Yes, that would be nice. Who are you?"
"Oh sorry, I am Ralf Winkler, this is my wife Christine. Are you dizzy or is something else off?"
"I am not drunken if that`s what you mean. But-ah I do not know."
"Then let me invite you to a mulled wine and we see what we can do."
The old man found himself steered to the stand with the dove and parked at one of the tables that allowed one to put down what they were eating.
"Can I get you a sausage with that wine as well?"
"That would be pork sausage right?"
"Yes, bratwurst is like that."
"Then no, I am not allowed."
"Fine, but the mulled wine would be ok? Sorry but we are out cacao, it would be tea otherwise."
"No the mulled wine is ok, thanks you."
"Ok, just a second then."
Shortly thereafter three mugs with a steaming red liquid arrived and the pair lifted theirs to a toast.
"To a happy Christmas then…"
"Oh sorry, I am Harry. To a happy Christmas."
When he had drunken the first of the sweet wine he looked at the man in front of him.
"Sorry if that get across the wrong way, but are you always inviting strangers?"
"Ah, no I do not think my purse or liver would survive that. I think it is just that you can take a person from the medics but not the medic from the person. You looked pretty disoriented and when you were so much better in English than German I was not sure if you needed more help than a bowl of this."
"So this is where you Germans ended up. This world? What did you do to this city?" The medic`s robe had a hood that hid the raised eyebrows.
"Yes, this is where we ended up. And what we did to this city-introduced some sanitary system, decent health care and the joys of mass media, why?"
"Because of the ruins I saw a couple of blocks back."
"Ah that-wasn`t us. The Skaven came up for some reason and started to trash the place and kill the inhabitants. The Empire battled them pretty much on their own, we just lent a hand and helped with the disaster management. And we finance the rebuild, at least in a big part."
"I see. And now you bring these guys Christianity?"
"Because this is the first Christmas market in Altdorf? No, so many Imperials have visited German markets in the last years and liked the idea, the churches are involved only at the fringes. They try to bring their beliefs only to those who want it, which is not too many. The local gods have a way to make their presence known. Just ask me about it."
"Oh, sorry. So all is peace and quiet or…"
"For the moment. But this world is not exactly at rest. Yet it seems we are done with fighting for a while."
"Whom did you fight?"
"Let`s see-the Norscans came over for a raid or two. They got themselves a battle and now think better of it. The Dark Elves tried to raid Papenburg and got their heads handed to them. Our Navy arranged a return visit to Hag Graef and ever since then they do not do that anymore. The Empire had a Chaos invasion and the Skaven tried to kill us all. Apart from that it was quiet."
"Oh my-back to your old ways again? Who is government at present?"
"If you mean Germany-Angela Merkel and a Grand Coalition. I do not think she will go for another round when the next elections come around, she looks like shit these days. But one question from my side-where have you spend the last three years?"
"Home"
"Best place to be. Ups-mulled wine is done and I could use another. Christine, would you be so nice to get another, if possible from booth 112."
"No problem dear."
"Now if I am allowed-the way you asked I got the feeling that you think we have provoked these wars somehow?"
"Isn`t that always the way…sorry, forgot that you said that."
"Oh, I understand well enough. And yet, this a new and improved Germany Harry, very much so. We no longer do such things and I am pretty proud we do not do them even when things get tough."
"For now."
"Who knows the future Harry. Ah, but there is Christine-and she has brought a bit of help."
The old man woke up before the two red-clothed medics had reached him.
Labyrintis Noctis, Mars, another universe
Björn the Fell-handed was not sure if he liked his new body. Well, not totally new of course but the cogboys had repaired so much that it felt like new. Had taken some getting used to, it had. In the moments he was really honest with himself he knew that most of "getting used to" meant that he had to unlearn the millions of workarounds that he had learned to get around systems that no longer functioned as they should. Still it was disconcerting when his right leg moved exactly when he wanted it to and not with the barely perceptible delay he had been accustomed to for the last 3600 years or so. He had kicked a lot of walls, a few servitors and one Techmarine before he had gotten hold of that problem. Not to speak of the embarrassment when his autocannon did indeed fire when he thought the command and not on the repeat.
Yet he was not the only brother with such problems.
The Adeptus Mechanicus had showered the Chapter with toys as soon as their manufactories digested the plans that the STC provided to them. More than one Brother had checked if his power pack was really engaged for lack of vibration and noise. Many had to relearn the multiple options that the sensors in their helmets provided now that they were made as intended and they had to scrape at least two assault marines from the hangar`s ceiling when their jump packs were quite a bit more powerful when they had expected. But now that was mostly behind them and a detachment of Space Wolves like the galaxy had not seen since Horus was making its way into a system of caverns containing the mysterious goal of this operations.
The tunnels were like nothing Björn had ever seen-smooth and covered with a silver metal of satin sheen. That by itself was not so strange but when another of his brothers scratched the wall forcing a passage the scratches disappeared like waves in a pond. The floor was seemingly made from multicolored glass, but even his feet did not break it up. The tunnel was just wide enough to let the Dreadnaught pass and several placed would have stopped him if the Marines would not have employed meltas to enlarge the passageway.
The Space Marines had progressed into the tunnel quite a bit when it widened into a hall full of strange machinery. It was here that the Wolves were halted, not by an enemy host or a barrier, but by on old woman in a robe and an ancient servitor. Björn thought that it looked somehow familiar but could not really place it until his database presented a model that had not been built for at least 5000 years. He trusted his brothers enough to keep a watch on their surroundings and pointed a high-gain microphone at the conversation between the old man and Leman Russ.
"I have seen you coming Leman Russ, some time ago. It is a good thing too, the Dragon is shifting in its tomb and its screams are nearly comprehensible these days. And I am tired, so tired."
"Father told me to convey his commendation for your unfaltering service. He also gave me this."
The box in the Patriarch`s hand looked tiny and yet the hand that took it seemed to be too frail to handle it at all. And yet the box did not tremble when it was moved and the old woman did not flinch when she pressed it against her chest.
"Follow me then, I will lead you to the tomb."
The entrance into the tunnel that had just been before them now was off to the left and led to a different path. It was through this one the Space Wolves were led. They entered a labyrinth that defied the senses.
Björn the fell handed had been around since the Emperor had walked among men. He had died once, well nearly so, and had not let that distract him from his duties. He had fought ancient evil, unending hordes of killers with tooth and claw and beings that made humans look like shaved apes. He had seen it all and yet now he was nearly unable to move due to the sight in front of him. The passageways branched, divided, turned and merged without rhyme or reason. The silver coating of the walls made it difficult to say where floor, walls and ceiling were, especially when the walls reflected the picture in them endlessly. At some points the Dreadnaught was sure he had passed before, in others it looked like they were passing themselves. Yet their guide led them through the labyrinth without a pause and several scouts were busy marking their way.
It all ended in a hall that was probably the biggest single room that Björn had ever seen. In front of the Space Marines was a wooden plinth and some writing utensils, but apart from that the hall was empty of everything. Still even inside his sarcophagus Björn was not at ease as the hall seemed wrong, as if the dimensions given to it were not following the rules that applied elsewhere.
That was when their guide opened the case and a clean white light emerged that nearly overwhelmed even the Dreadnaughts filters. When it was gone only ashes remained where their guide had been-and the hall in front of them revealed its true contents. In the last third of the hall a huge stone sarcophagus dominated the room. It was made from a black material that seemed to swallow every photon presented to it. Its surface was covered with green lines depicting an immense dragon, ever shifting and swirling.
One voice crashed into the silence and got the Space Marines out of their reverie. Leman Rus had to use his voice as radio seemed to have taken a holiday from white noise.
"This is what we came for lads-get to it. Marines-establish perimeter defense. Techmarine Hangulf-to me.."
The Marines shook themselves out and Björn led the other Dreadnaughts of his pride to their places when the air in several places seemed to ripple and weaver before rifts in space itself appeared and disgorged hundreds of bodies of all shapes. The air inside the cavern was ripe with screams and piercing cries in Binary-and near human voices that voiced an unending chant.
"Kill the heretics."
California, 25.12.2015
The old man looked at the pill in disgust, he did not like to take refuge in such means. Still he found himself rather exhausted by the vivid dreams of the last nights and needed some rest. Today had been very nice with the grandchildren and everything but not a night of long uninterrupted sleep would really be a good thing. If his long life had shown him anything than that sometimes you had to do things you do not like. He dry-swallowed the pill, kissed his wife goodnight and turned into his favorite sleeping position.
He was no longer unhappy-he was highly frustrated when he found himself there again. And again the place had remained the same –and changed. The cathedral was there all right, but light up with what seemed a million decorative lights and showing signs of recent renovation.
The plaza was still cobblestoned but the very regular stones and the seams indicated that they had been redone with an eye on the authentic feel and added convenience. The stalls were there too, but this time the woodwork was less elaborate, but the lighting had increased tenfold. The statues were around as well, yet the dove that flew right through one made it clear that this was a hologram.
Knowing that he would get into the mass again sooner or later the old man yielded to the dreams logic and made his way into the Christmas market proper.
It took him a minute to spot the real marvel of the place. It were not the wondrous toys offered in some stalls, even when he was pretty sure that one doll had hovered without any rotor while another seemed to have a pretty deep conversation with a girl.
Nor was it the smell of many really exotic foods that were on offer. It was the crowd itself. Where before only humans had mingled now beings of many races went through the market. The slender elegant beings with the sardonic smile were like the few elves that Harry had seen in Marienburg when he had paid the town a visit last year. There were a lot more dwarfs than the one or two that the old man had spotted the last time. This time there seemed to be two distinct groups, one with very modern clothing, the others in what seemed like traditional garb. But the smallish green hominids that weaved their way through the crowd, sometimes giggling with no reason the old man could not place-might these be goblins?
At one crossing a small group of somethings held placards into the air. Getting a little closer he saw the signs. His rusted German worked much better in written form, so he could translate "Keep Christ in Christmas" well enough and "this is the Season of Worship, not shopping". There were others, but never saw them. He was now close enough to see those who carried the signs for real and that took his breath away. Rats-giant rats who walked on their hind legs, wore partial clothing and glasses. And whatever else they wore, they all had a large, visible cross on a chain around their neck. He had read about them, these were the Skaven that sometimes got caught-but these were totally different. They touched several subconscious panic buttons at the same time and he tried to push through the crowd to get away from them.
His attempt to do so ended at the chest of a man in a robe who staggered back two paces from the impact before catching himself.
"Whoha man, no need to run me down."
"I am very sorry-err entschuldigen sie bitte…"
„It is ok, nothing happened. But I think I saw you somewhere before. And ..was that english?"
The old man had a second look at the face in front of him. There was no hair left on the head, small spots dotted the skin and a host of wrinkles divided skin as thin as parchment. The beard was still there, but totally white now. The robe did not give too much away but the shoulders were still broad but now were balanced by a paunch.
"Were you the guy who invited me to some mulled wine-and had his wife get the medics to take me in."
"Oh Shallya-that`s you? You were suddenly gone-we never figured out how you did that. And you do not look older by a day?"
"I just woke up and that was yesterday night to me-but why did you do it then?"
"Call the medics? You looked totally disoriented and spoke mostly English. Some people got these kind of bouts back then, would no longer accept that the Weltensprung happened and all that. They usually got better after a few days, but as long as that lasted they should be looked after. You can ignore reality only for so long."
"So you wanted to help me?"
"Yes. Come on, nothing happened. Let us try it again-I`ll invite you to a drink and some mulled wine and a few crullers. No medics this time."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Then I`ll be happy to."
When a couple of crullers had appeared on the table and the mulled wine mugs warmed the hands of both the old man started again.
"You promised not to call the medics again-right. So a question-what is the date?"
"Bäkertag 24. Vorhexen."
"Err no. So much seems to have changed-the year."
"Ah-sure you would not like a bit of help? No, well your call. This is 2614 my friend."
"Oh my..a long time. Where is your wife then, I remember her?"
"With Shallya these days and I have this feeling I will join her before too long."
"Oh I am very sorry."
"Don't be, we had such a life between us."
"Well then, while you still answer questions-I have seen the the Rats over there?"
"What-ah the Sleenek Pact Skaven. Silly hypocrites if you ask me."
"Why?"
"Ah, they make half of the toys we buy for Christmas these days and then they tell us not to commercialize the holidays-that is funny. But I`ll admit that this bunch is probably not in the manufacturing business."
"But you said you had a very nasty war with them the last time we met."
"Did I, it is so long ago now. Yes, we had a really nasty war with them. They tried to kill a lot of us, we killed too many of them and their bleeding God. But that`s the past and at least that particular bunch over there has really reformed itself. In some cases far too much. Wake you up Saturday morning "Good morning Sir, we`d like to talk with you about God". Really now, but much better than the other kind."
"What other kind?"
"Oh these particular ones got a dose of God after the Horned Rat went off. Others tried to connect to any Chaos cult that wanted to have them, these can be nasty."
"Ah."
"And these over there?"
"Oh you mean the Goblins? Long story, but there is a bunch of them that now lives in Ostermark and in Sylvania. If they offer you a tasty mushroom-don`t"
"So all is well now?"
"You ask me? Well we are at peace now, and many other powers are too. I do believe they learn wars are too expensive, but that may be wishful thinking."
"And who is in charge now?"
"Oh for the next two years that will be Thorgim Steinier, then we`ll see what the next elections bring. I do believe the Freisinnige had their time and are tired for now but who cares what I think."
"So you are still a Democracy?"
"Yes, of course, why shouldn´t we?"
"Hmm, right you are."
"So what about.."
"Sorry for that, but there is something I have to watch for a second, `ll never tire of that."
"What do you.."
The old man followed the view of Ralf who watched the Sky on the other side of the Plaza. Before Harry could ask again a warm-colored light rose and seemed to chase one of the moons. It looked like a big cross, but without a telescope that would be hard to tell. A smaller light seemed to be approaching the bigger one from behind.
"What is that?"
"Copernicus Station and if I am not off "Emden" is coming in for repairs. If the net is not making it up they had a rough time at Bernhard."
"What….."
And that was when the old man woke up. All a dream, thank god.
"Humbug, all Humbug"
"What is it dear?"
"Oh sorry love, just had a vivid dream again. Sleep on."
"Yes"
The snoring on the other bed half convinced Harry that his wife never woke up for real. He was about to follow her lead when he realized that his hand was holding something warm and greasy. He managed not to scream when he saw the half-eaten cruller in his hand.
Paulskirche Frankfurt, 1848
Friedrich Wilhelm IV, King of Prussia was not a happy man. He loved being King of Prussia, this was his birthright and what he believed had been his destiny. And yet, he believed that what he was about to do was his duty. His duty to avoid further bloodshed, to keep the radicals from power and to keep his people safe. And no man could say that he would not fulfil his duties, no matter how distasteful or taxing he might think them.
So he stepped forward to the lectern and faced the hundreds of people who wanted to make him do something he rather did not want to. People he had not raised to this station, but who had been "elected" by the rabble. And yet..
"Honored members of the National Assembly, after careful deliberation and much prayer I have come to the decision to accept your proposal. I will accept the crown of an united Germany and become your constitutional monarch…"
"Up so early dear?"
"Yes, I could not get back to sleep and had an idea for a new project."
"Fine then. You`ll take breakfast with me?"
"30 minutes ok hon?"
"Yes, go ahead."
Harry Turtledove turned back to his computer and resumed writing. He had a new Timeline in his head and that wanted to get written. And for a change, the Germans would be the nice guys….
Labyrintis Noctis, Mars, another universe
Björn the Fell handed had not survived ten millennia by being taken by surprise. With every second more and more enemy entered the cave through short-lived warp gates. Some did arrive in an even uglier amalgam of metal and flesh than usual and dropped where they arrived. Some arrived intermingled with their peers and lived only for seconds. Most arrived, got their bearings and attacked.
His comm lit up "Second and first platoon-form a base of fire on me. Longfangs to the left, enfilade them. Rest of you-go get them."
The Dreadnaught was pretty sure that the Jarl had not being so tactical before, "kill them all" had been sufficient once combat was joined. What were they-Space Wolves or Ultrasmurfs? Maybe the nap time Leman Russ had in the warp made him mellow? Yet, as with the raid on the Iron Warriors before, it worked. And his orders allowed him to do what he wanted to-to wade into the thick of it and let his enemies have it.
Selecting a group of heavily armored servitors he fired his assault cannon while he accelerated into a full run. The machines that had been built around what had been humans once were a bit slow to react and when they did their bolter shells were unable to penetrate his ancient armor. Closing further the heavy flamer inside his other arm covered most of them with liquid fire. Burning the few organic components there still were and devastating insulation and hydraulic lines that were merged with them he killed more before he stepped directly into the fray.
Laying about with his Lightning Claw he managed to kill the surviving servitors in mere seconds. He took several more seconds to make sure that all systems were still functioning and look for his next target. His pack of Dreadnaughts was still around him and they seemed unharmed. The same could not be said for quite a few of his battle brothers. Some were on the ground, some fought on despite horrible wounds, others were pulled back from the fighting. On the other side clusters of something that managed to combine the most grisly aspects of an charnel house and a junkyard indicated where the attackers had been hit hardest.
The next target of the Dreadnaughts wrath were a group if Skitarii, the soldiers of the Mechanicum. Most normal humans would have cringed in terror at the sight of towering machines of destruction that ran their way, howling both in radio and from loudspeakers like a pack of wolves from hell. These were so far removed from their human origins that they stood their ground and made ready to receive the charge.
Their fearlessness did not earn them a great reward-the Björn`s flamer took care of that group before the Skitarrii could do anything with the meta weapons they had brought to the fight. Wading forward to do more mayhem Björn could not help to listen both to the enemy`s broadcasts as well as their high-pitched screams in Binary. As a being that was 95% mechanical components and in dire need of Techmarine assistance Björn understood more than a little of what he heard. It just did not make any sense.
"Save the Omnissiah" seemed to be the cogboy`s battle cry. As far as the ancient Dreadnaught knew the Cult Mechanicus had decided a very long time ago that the Emperor was the Omnisiah as well-the Machine God. So how could the Wolves threaten the Omnisiah? Unless-what the blazes was inside that sarcophagus?
Björn still did not have his mind made up about that when another actinic flash in the middle of the Mechanicus forces announced the arrival of reinforcements. When the Dreadnaught`s filters allowed him to see clearly again they revealed two machines as he had never seen before. Of about his height they had much more bulk and were clad in red well-rounded armor. A small ball on top of them probably contained sensors and four stubby arms contained weapons. All around the machines tentacles waved like mad serpents, brandishing cutting tools of some sorts. The machines turned on what looked like ball-shaped wheels towards the Space Wolves gun line and opened fire. A mixture of rapid-fire cannons, plasma weapons and something which looked like it shot lightning ripped into the Long Fang squads. And the weapons brought to bear were easily able to rip through the power armor worn by these marines, bowling them over like ninepins.
"Wolfpack-on me" sent the four Dreadnaughts into a charge right through an enemy whose tactical expertise did not run into berserker charges. The armor of the venerable war machines saved them countless times when projectiles and beams wasted themselves against it. They assaulted right through those attackers who wanted to get in their way, in some cases stepping right on them with predictable results.
Björn fired all of his weapons at the nearest machine. While the assault cannon managed to get a tentacle the machine itself did not show any real damage. Instead they turned to deal with the more potent threat. Their shots did not do their full damage, partly because of the heavy armor, partly as the cloud of flame that engulfed the machine degraded their targeting mechanisms. Björn`s autosenses told a tale of a damaged leg actuator and the loss of two cameras before he managed to close the distance. His best weapon had always been the Lightning Claw and he used it to fend the tentacles off which wanted to burn and cut his metal carcass. At the same time he fired his assault cannon in an unending stream at the same spot of the machine, watching as the diamond-tipped projectiles chipped at the thick hide of the machine.
The machine tried to turn, so he switched the energy field of his claw off and instead of cutting through the next appendage he used it to fix the monster that proved unable to depress its guns enough to harm the dreadnaught.
Warning runes appeared in his field of vision and told a tale of an overheating gun. He ignored it and continued to fire at the same spot again and again till finally a plate flew off and exposed vulnerable innards. Releasing his grip on the tentacle he put his claw inside the machine and ripped through whatever was in there. He refrained to use the flamer as he had the feeling that there was a healthy amount of ammo inside, yet his not-too-gentle ministrations allowed him to rip through things that were important. Suddenly the free tentacles no longer sought to dismantle him, the fire from the cannons stopped and Björn managed to get a couple of steps back before an explosion ripped through the gutted machine. His companions had by now finished the other machine in a display of teamwork worthy of any pack of wolves and were now trying to keep a bunch of Skitarii of their backs who wanted to kill the Dreadnaughts with grenades. Björn stopped that with another application if his flamer and then led the pack back to the Wolves lines.
In the end it did not matter. What mattered was that a group of enemies charged out of their ranks and tried to storm the Primarch and the sledge he was on. A number of figures lead the charge, totally wrapped in electric discharge arcs-electropriests. Made up from the most fanatical adherents of the machine cult they had changed their bodies so much that they generated and discharged huge amounts of energy. Said to be in eternal pain they charged the line of Longfangs in front of them just to be taken down by their heavy weaponry. Yet not all fell before they reached the Wolves ranks and they tore into the heavy weapons operators who had a hard time defending themselves in close combat Something in their midst exploded, throwing both attackers and defenders by the wayside and leaving a gap in the Space Wolves line.
Björn was pretty sure that he would not be able to close the gap in time. He could see several of the attackers carry some satchels that were unlikely to contain the next breakfast. Triggering another assault cannon salvo he sent several flying when a small number of Wolves stepped into the gap. The Terminators of the Wolf Guard were clustered about their commanders who had gotten it into their heads to lend a hand. It did not curb the enthusiasm of the attackers in the slightest but stopped their charge cold. Beams and bullets that would pierce even the power armor of Space Marines with ease bounced off from the tough armor and a firepower out of proportion with the numbers ripped through the cogboys.
It was not a one-sided battle though, numbers and the willingness to die if one were just getting the chance to close with the enemy gave the attackers an opportunity lost to attackers more sane. Yet the Space Wolves had never been accused of too much sanity themselves and threw themselves into that madness willingly. That they were led by their Primarch did enhance their enthusiasm even more and the assault for the sled collapsed not so much because of a retreat but for a lack of attackers. The attempt had left the cogboys in a bad place-strong out into a line bordered in the front and one side by the Wolves a vicious crossfire took care of the rest.
Björn found himself guarding a perimeter around the sarcophagus while behind him the many Techmarines that were a part of the group went to work. Switching to a channel he contacted the Primarch who was overseeing it all.
"Primarch-what was the meaning of this-why did the walking spanners attack us and why did they think we attack the Omnissiah? They should be our allies. And what is in the bloody box over there anyway?"
"Björn-you do not want to know, really. If anything of what we do today comes out it would be worse for the Imperium than if Horus himself would make a comeback. We do what we always do-whatever is necessary -but this time no bragging. Told you before this one is in the black-now you get an idea why this is so. And the cogboys were a splinter group, heretics who believe their Machine God is inside this box-otherwise we would never have made it here. Not if the Mechanicum itself does not want it."
"We swore an oath Leman-no one will talk."
"Yes and it might be the most important one in your life Björn."
"Fuck this-what do we do next-taking out the trash?"
"We just take out the trash Björn. It is important. And now let`s get on with it, shall we?"
"We shall Primarch and thank you."
The Dreadnaught knew very well that he had just skirted the borders of what he was allowed with the Primarch, but had been deeply disturbed by what they were doing. It was not the violent skirmish they had just weathered, that was nothing. But something about this chamber and the sarcophagus made him highly uneasy. And the more he stood watch the more he was concerned something was deadly wrong here. He could see systems within his "body" developing glitches at an accelerating rate. A sensor here, an actuator there.. So far it was nothing major, but he quickly released he was not on his own with that.
And then his ELINT systems found the transmissions. They came from the cask behind him it seemed and were as incomprehensible as they were disturbing. When his systems decoded something audible it seemed like an unending scream, and video showed beings that seemed to consume stars-and then it all ended.
It was as if a heavy weight was lifted from the shoulders of the Dreadnaught and his mood immediately improved. Taking a peek at his rear camera he found a silver box where the sarcophagus had been before. He had seen such things before-stasis field. Whatever was in that casket, it was now frozen in time until the field was switched off.
"Ok, trash is in the box, let`s get it to the dump truck folks."
