Any businessman would love to see his shop to grow, to get more and more clients and enjoy of a higher revenue. Of course, that is a logic anyone would follow.
However, the client right there was one no one would ever want to deal with.
"Bring me your best sweets." She ordered, she wouldn't even need to say her name, everyone knew about her. The reason was unnecessary; fear is all she needed. After all, doesn't the weak must live under the stronger?
"Y-yes ma'am, right away!" The oak obeyed, fear and doubt in his voice. And he ran back to his shop, to get what she had asked.
"Ah, General Esdeath. Good evening." A voice greeted her, a man, a familiar one. Ambassador Iturbid was. His grey uniform as impeccable as ever, his stroll solid and without doubt. She could certainly admire that man, he was not old, but certainly not too young. He was like a hawk, always watching, measuring, and contemplating.
"Good evening, ambassador." She saluted. "What are you doing alone now? I'm always seeing you being followed and guarded just like a noble. I'm starting to wonder if you aren't just some white collared politician."
Aragorn smiled. "It's certainly better to show weakness when you have strength. It's an old Terran advice. There is always a villain plotting against you, to see you fall, to backstab you or simply to deliver chaos upon your being. If I'm alone now, is because I have decided it."
"Your words certainly bring wisdom. But also your actions tell me you are more than what you show. You hide something, like if this tittle of you were just a mere facade, don't you think so, Ambassador?"
He laughed, few times he had found such edge in his line of work. This was certainly amusing, she was smart, but he also felt how her talents wasted on this world. "That is quite the word, General."
"I'm being honest." She continued. "That time you uncovered those revolutionaries hidden into the nobles and officers of the military. Even for me it would have been hard to detect the traitors."
"Well… when you deal with Genestealers it gets easier to detect heretical cults?"
"Genestealers?" Esdeath's curiosity picked, it was something new she was hearing now coming from the imperial delegate. "What is that? Some kind of danger beast?"
Aragorn chuckled at the mere words. "Well… They certainly are dangerous. So dangerous a few of them can bring a world to its doom."
"Oh? My curiosity has been picked. What can they do? If a few of them can be so dangerous then it's worth to hunt them."
"Certainly is." Aragorn answered. "To let them live is to invite infestation…" He grabbed a small cup from the table. "They yearn to reproduce, to multiply. They prey on the people, infecting them and corrupting them with their foul seed. Then their victims continue infecting and corrupting more and more. Always in secret, always in the darkness. They create cults and infiltrate the ruling population of each planet. Then, when they have achieved enough, they rise against the Imperium and spread further into other worlds, then the nightmare repeats again. And all this for the great devourer to achieve an easier prey." He then destroyed the cup, his fingers shattering the porcelain, blood escaping from his palm. "Then the only way to stop them, is burning them and the world with their corruption."
Esdeath pulled out a hankerchief from the middle of her clothes and wrapped his hand with the improvised bandage. "You certainly look like you hate those creatures. It tells me how much of an issue they are to make you react like that. Also, how a completely different reality you face compared to ours."
The sweet had finally come, she sat just as she invited the ambassador to accompany her. The panicked oak returned to his shop to bring a few seconds later a gasified cold and dark drink to the table. Esdeath wrapped her tongue and mouth around the ice cream as she watched the man in front of her drinking calmly. "So… Ambassador, are you going to tell me about this Great Devourer?"
"I'm no authorized to tell you that." He spoke. "Ignorance is a blessing, and I prefer you people to remain just like that against the darkness of the void."
"You speak as if I were a weakling. You know, if I wanted I could destroy this nation and bring calamity upon the rest of this world."
"Is that so?" He tested, unamused.
"Well, maybe I could take down your forces, frozen one of those ships and kill your Astartes." She smiled, sadist eyes contemplating Iturbid just like a new toy to play. She wanted to see his reaction, but he just kept drinking, however, he opened his eyes.
"You believe you can take us down?"
"Sure I can!" She claimed with a laughter. "I have taken down bigger threats than them!"
The inquisitor smiled, his mind already remembering the countermeasures already planned. To take down this general, to take down this Empire in case of a rebellion. His mind ready to release a Psychic blast if needed. In fact, he had been already releasing the power of his mind, forcing fear and terror on anyone nearby. Even if the people around them was running away, paralyzed or literally soiled themselves, he wanted to test his suspicions. A couple was crying in a corner, a woman was pulling her hair and breaking her nails, a man was unable to move, around them they had been trapped by the aura of terror, power from the Warp and the sensation of certain death. The drink in Iturbid's hand had been frozen, a cold like nothing she had ever feel, Esdeath wondered at this sensation, her mind driven by the adrenaline of danger. This bloodlust was something completely different, even the voices of his Imperial Relic would have been silenced.
Yet, even with all this mental pressure, Esdeath would not falter. Her will pushing her to test her limits for minutes she stood there, unwavering even if a cold sweat was running down her back.
And finally, the psychic grip started to leave. The pressure was released and second after second the cold from the warp started to fade. Aragorn wanted to reach for his drink, but he found it had been frozen. "I guess you pass…" He commented, as he pulled out a wood pipe to smoke.
"¿Excuse me?"
"You have resisted a mental assault that would shred any lesser mind. That is such remark."
Esdeath tilted her head to a side, curiosity in her. "I think I don't understand, Ambassador. What do you mean with this?"
A line of smoke was released from Aragorn's mouth. "You win, Esdeath. You discovered me. I am not an Ambassador. Yet, my power is far more than that. I´m an Inquisitor, an agent who only takes orders from the golden throne and God-Emperor himself. There are few who can oppose my authority in all this galaxy."
"Ah, that is something interesting… Tell me, what an inquisitor does? What is this mental assault?"
"I'm a Psyker, Esdeath. I can do things no normal human would be able to do. I'm not the best suited for its use in combat, but brute force is not always the main choice to fight an enemy." Aragorn puffed a cloud of smoke. "And I belong to the Ordo Hereticus. My duty is to find and execute traitors and heretics who try to damage the Imperium from the inside. I can use different methods, such as a retinue or an army."
"That is a really thrilling thing you are telling me." She played with a rose made of ice, then this turned into a small knife which she moved at a speed that could only be rivaled by a space marine, the small ice knife was soon in front of the Inquisitor's eye, millimeters close to stab his eye, yet, this wouldn't even flinch to this. "Let me in." She said.
"Excuse me?"
"Let me in and let me be part of all that. Fighting enemies I had never seen and venturing on the stars. I want to see it, and I want to experience it."
"What about your duties as a general here?"
"Fuck that bullshit! I want to find something worth of my might. This planet will be part of your empire anyway, why wait? Take me as your retinue and let's jump to explore the stars!"
Aragorn Iturbid smiled at her words. She had proven herself, both physically and mentally. Yet, she still had a last test to take. But only in duty she would be able to discover if her soul was ready to take the toll.
The inquisitor leaned on his side, vox awakening near his ear and a familiar voice to inform. "Looks like the little fly has fallen in the web."
Esdeath soon realized a new presence was in the rooftop now, no, more than one.
[-]
Leone cursed in silence for being so stupid, for letting her carefree attitude act over her instincts. She had paid the price and had bathed in a bloodlust filled halo emanating from those two. The unforgiving cold still in the air was testament to a pair of monsters right in front of her. Monsters she had fooly believed to be easy targets if picked by surprise. Oh how stupid had she been.
"I must retry now!" Her instincts screamed at her. Better live and fight another day.
However, that would not happen. Because before she could even turn to flee, she felt the cold of a gun right behind her skull. And a voice filled with authority and hate. "Don't dare try anything, you Abhuman."
Leone considered disarming the woman behind her. However, a click from the Bolt pistol froze that. "Stay down, you mutant. You are surrounded. Look ahead, in that tower."
A black figure let itself be seen. Her feline eyes made her realize it was one of those super soldiers who had killed Sheele and Mine. In his hands a long rifle, pointing at her. Her ears noticed finally the steps of armored boots landing near her. Another one was aiming at her with a heavy and powerful rifle. Two men clad in blue with those laser guns were now pressing on her, ready to vaporize her entrails.
"Get up!" The woman demanded, the barrel hitting the back of her head. "Deactivate your relic, and don't try anything stupid."
"Seems like I am too much for you to take me in numbers."
Something smashed her head, the power feeling like a hammer striking her face. Such punch would have knocked her off, yet, her relic would allow her to stand. This is how Sheele had been hit, she remembered, embedding the pain in her chest and mind. When orientation returned, the Astartes was at her side, moving from tree meters of distance to a mere step away from her in a heartbeat. Kissing the floor stone, iron tasted in her tongue, an iron vanishing in a few seconds.
"You won't trick us, Mutant. Now turn off your Teigu!"
Leone could just imagine what they would do to her. Torture and humiliation, all kind of techniques developed for years by the torturers inside the palace. Yet, they still didn't know her identity, they shouldn't know she is a member of Night Raid.
They brought her down. Finally, she had decided to turn off her relic, she handed it. Maybe she could take it back and escape.
"Ah, a Night Raid's member." She was taken aback by the words of the man in front of her, the man looking down on her. His eyes penetrating into her being, discerning anything about her.
"H-How…?" She stuttered, her words trembling knowing already her fate.
"How did you know she is an assassin of Night Raid?" Esdeath asked, her head already remembering drug recipes, tools, movements of her hands to deliver the exact amount of pain, not too much to make a prisoner claim anything to survive, but barely just to force the truth from someone's throat.
"I didn't, it was just a small trick to make her confess." Iturbid scoffed, almost childish malice running through his lips. He delighted at her eyes, looking at him. Betrayal in her retinas, shame and regret reflected in her irises.
"We shall take her into custody, Honest has agreed to this."
"Wait." Iturbid raised a hand, stopping her. "I must first confirm something." He pulled out a data-slate, Leone had seen it before, Nia would use them often, yet, this was the first time one was so close to her. There was an image in the display in front of her, a holographic one. She remembered that relic Najenda had showed them that time. Was this similar, had they that technology? The holopict showed a rifle, or something akin to a rifle. It was nothing like the ones the Empire had, and it was different from the ones those mechanic men carried. A symbol was etched, a circle with strange lines.
"Tell me, have you seen this?"
She had no idea what he was talking about, she had never seen one. It was weird, alien like. However, she had been too slow to negate such claim. Her cheek ached with pain, the familiar feeling of a fist mauling her face, and this time she had no relic to ease the pain. She shuddered trying to hold the agony, to look defiant against her captors.
"I sure know Esdeath here knows some torture methods to retrieve information from someone's mind. But I don't want to lose time flaying you alive. So tell me, where are these weapons? Who gifted it to you!?"
"I don't know." Her body screamed pain as her skin was filled with the electric bite of an arc maul. For seconds she felt as hours her body was filled with tremendous pain coming from the unforgiving electricity.
Her hair was uncaringly pulled, her face still dazzled by the torture, but her eyes still holding the hatred on her torturers. "As I told you. I don't want to lose time torturing you. I could open your brain and probe it as you are awake feeling thousands of needles piercing your soft brain." Iturbid closed to her face, his voice almost a whisper but the seriousness on it was palpable.
"I… I swear it… I swear it over the tombs of my friends… I have no idea what you are talking about. I have never seen something like that!"
"She may be lying." Esdeath voiced behind the inquisitor. "I could torture her personally and get the info."
"It will be a waste of time… This one is not worth interrogating." He looked at the Astartes at the side. His Bolt Carbine moved, the cannon aiming near touching Leone's head.
"Wait…!" She screamed. Her will to live climbing to survival. "I can tell you…! I don't know who made them but I know about someone who knows! They are in the frozen mountains, their technology could certainly have made it!"
"So you know about the Adeptus Mechanicus location…" Iturbid raised a hand, the Black Templar taking away his weapon. "This is convenient. I knew they had survived but I didn't know where they had stablished."
He looked at Leone and the last thing she saw was the man in front of her as her back was smashed with the backside of a rifle.
[X]
If there was one thing the Imperium of Makind was known for, it's its retaliation.
Few rebellions had been brave enough to declare against them. After all, how could a simple ant defeat a giant?
The fear after defeat was the greatest persuasion. What would happen to them after they had been defeated? What would become of their families and loved ones after the Imperium had recover the world to re install it into its fold?
Many times the reason was too grim to answer.
The revolutionary army had started as a simple mob. A few civilians unhappy with the way the empire had turned. The very first rebels had started with just a few protests, these always broken by the empire's unforgiving military. Many had died and many more had been turned into slaves to the worst fates.
And yet, they had keep going. They had installed, away from the empire. Hidden in the shadows for the years to come.
Thus they had become stronger, little by little. They had turned into a powerful force able to present a danger for the corrupt empire.
However, this was an empire of mortals. An empire barely able to totally control a continent.
And they had failed to realize.
What Najenda had witnessed that day was beyond anything the Empire had done.
When the Empire showed retribution, this would usually leave some survivors. Too crippled and too demoralized to ever become a treat in the close future. Sometimes it was for the very pleasure of the corrupted officers, others were just a waste of resources. They would leave kids alive, after they had raped their mothers and killed or enslaved their fathers. Even if it was a small possibility, a kid would survive in the wilderness turning them into powerful warriors in the future.
What was in front of Najenda was only death.
They had not just killed every single soldier of the revolutionary army, they had murdered every single person in all the villages and small towns surrounding the revolutionaries' base. For Najenda, traveling through these settlements told her what had happened.
They had lined the people against walls and these had been fusilladed with those laser weapons of the Imperium. Every street was covered in bodies, be adult or child. They had all died the same.
There was a huge hole in the center of every town, and a plank heading above the center of this. When she looked at the chasm she saw the burning remains of people covered in a blanked of black ash. They had all been thrown at these, forced to walk the plank and fall. Then they had been burned, those who had survived the fall had been burned alive, their charred corpses showing them trying to escape from the hellish pit.
How many had died like this? How many purged in this genocide? She could not know.
And when she had reached the revolutionary's main base, she had found tens of thousands of corpses nailed to a cross.
They had suffered slowly. The crows and vultures feasting over the dead. Black wings covering the sun in dark clouds. Every one of her comrades and friends was now dead.
She approached to one of the crosses, there was a woman there, bare nude as everyone else. She recognized her, an old friend, one she had relied on for so many years. Her face full of agony, tears and blood covering her.
Why do this?
Why someone would kill so many innocents?
What kind of sin had they committed to deserve this?
All they had wanted was to be free.
The base had been destroyed, and in its place was a flag. Like a mock to the destruction that had been realized on this place. A standard above the rubble and ruin.
And then she fell, her knees finally giving out. How could they win? How could they had ever expecting to win. The revolutionary army was no more. She was alone now, alone with Night Raid. Orphans in the claws of an unforgiving tyrant backed by a greater Imperium.
Thus she weeps.
Her tears fall on the dry earth, now a graveyard.
[-]
She had been crying for a while.
Her day was only mourning.
And yet she had no idea what was about to come.
"We can't keep with this farce." She said to herself.
"Indeed, we cannot." A voice responded to her, a familiar one. She had not noticed, she had no will to ever care. However, when she heard that voice she found a girl. One she had known for a while.
When Najenda turned, she found a woman, a young one. One she had already known for a while. Her long hair was a mess, burned and cut, her clothes were just as bad. Her eyes, empty and almost hollow.
"Chelsea…" Najenda called her name.
The girl smiled softly, yet, there was no emotion left into her face. She looked into the wasteland, devoid of all life and only littered with corpses.
"You know, I think now I understand, how small I am. How foolish I am. To think we could bring peace, justice and freedom to this world. But now… it's all ashes." She opened her palm and particles of ash bathed her fingers. Tattered memories filled her of sadness just as cold bitter flooded her heart. In all her years as an assassin she had dried her tears, however, after this day, she discovered there was still some.
She was about to break, her composure shattering like a mirror. Her despair showed clearly as she trembled with rage, pain and sadness. All her friends and loved ones murdered in such brutal and inhumane ways.
"... We didn't stand a chance against them, their weapons were superior, the relic users were prime targets. There was little we could do against their aerial machines, as well as the bombardments coming from higher up, those were the most devastating ...They formed them, they formed the smallest ones first... they inspected them, took some and then slit the throats of those who were left. Then they made us dig, we dug and dug for three days without rest, those who died were left in the ditches. Then they formed us up again, and started filling the ditches with a strange liquid, by the time we realized, many had already been forced into the ditch... I managed to escape using Gaea Foundation... but the others..."
Chelsea broke down, threw herself to the ground in sobs and wails. She felt like scum, for her brain, which, having sought survival, had preferred to save her life rather than someone else's. The memory of such a natural instinct, which she saw as selfishness, only made her feel worse.
"I can still hear your screams...! I'm sorry...! I'm really sorry!"
Najenda approached her, holding her in arms. She tried to calm her down, but there was little she could do in the face of such magnitude and atrocity that had happened here.
The Revolutionary army had been destroyed. There was no longer any hope of stopping the Prime Minister from taking over this world under the backing of the Imperium. Once his title came, it would be impossible to stop.
And now there was no hope of doing so.
All that was left was Night Raid, what could a small group do against a force that had destroyed ten thousand men?
[X]
It was at this time that the capital was celebrating.
On a grey gravitational ark pulled by servants, were five of those great warriors who had arrived here months ago. Three of them wore huge armour, grey with black, armour larger than one of these genetically modified warriors would normally wear. They carried large shields and chainaxes with menacing teeth. At the front stood another of them, but his face was not covered by his helmet, his face as pale as marble as he stoically watched the crowd that came to see them. Many were celebrating their triumph over the revolutionary army, but a few others held their words and watched from a distance.
Akainu knew that so many mortals greeting them as heroes would not be possible without the intervention of the inquisitor and his entourage. They had begun to change some laws, erased some and created others. For the first time in a long time, the military police were working efficiently, catching evildoers in droves. The first Arbites were beginning to be seen among mortals, their uncompromising imperial justice had brought judgment to hundreds. Finally, people could open businesses, could work, could generate resources. Walking at night was once again a possibility that hadn't come in years.
The Harvester Prime turned to look at the two Black Templar sergeants behind him. And he remembered the purge of the central square when Inquisitor Aragorn had ordered the capture of all nobles with traces of depravity, of a possible heresy that might form in the future. Dozens of nobles had been rounded up, all for the execution that was to take place there. The Black Templars were efficient in unloading their weapons.
However, there was also another factor to consider.
There, in that castle, was that mortal. An old man, more of a hunger and ambition befitting a high nobleman of those hive worlds. The Harvester Prime knew that those nobles they had condemned to death were nothing more than a distraction and at the same time a way to get rid of the rubbish. Having so many leeches in the same place would make food for all the others scarce. The lives of these civilians had improved, but just a little more than they were, the high leaders of this nation still enjoyed acts of lust, gluttony, greed and arrogance. But they would not dare to show it, and after the Astartes' demonstration, they had understood that it would no longer be possible for them to unleash their instincts easily. For the eyes of the Inquisitor were upon them, and a simple call would cause Honest, who was obsessed with obtaining the position of Planetary Governor, to vanish them for undermining his chances of achieving his dream.
Akainu ignored it, the designs of mortals were predictable, but too much so for his liking. In his mind he could only think of the red tithe that would be forthcoming. The most promising would have to be set apart from the rest. And while that wouldn't be a problem, he also had a competition with his cousins in the other chapters.
"There may be too many Astartes on this planet..."
Out of the corner of his eye he felt someone's deep gaze. In the end he could only see a greenish-haired boy, walking away from the crowd.
[X]
It was time to close.
He put the key in the lock and closed the door. The bookstore had been empty today, anyway. The entire city had come to greet the Adeptus Astartes, whether out of curiosity, celebration, or mere hatred.
After all, they had wiped out the Revolutionary army.
For years, the Empire had found them guilty of the highest treason. Criminals condemned to death on sight. There were rewards for killing a few revolutionaries. Endless propaganda against them.
Still, the population knew that they were their only hope for escape from the yoke of the empire.
And now that hope was gone.
Lubbock had stopped drinking years ago, but right now, the bottle of liquor was the only way he had left to escape this reality.
There was no more revolutionary army, no more way to defeat the prime minister, no more resources to continue their operations.
Night Raid had been left totally alone. Worse, disbanded. With three of its members dead and Tatsumi and Leone missing. There was only a small fraction left. What could he and Akame do? There was no point, even with Lina it wouldn't be enough.
He took the bottle and emptied it until there was only a third left. Perhaps by drowning himself in alcohol he would find some solace and maybe an idea would occur to him.
However, since the Imperium of the stars had arrived, things had begun to change. For the first time in a long time, a little hope had begun to appear.
It was subtle at first, as an iron fist had exterminated all the criminal groups in the city. From one day to the next, people could feel safer.
The fields had benefited. Plants from other worlds were sown, like miracle seeds they germinated within hours and in a matter of weeks could be harvested.
However, Lubbock knew it was too good.
It had taken him a while to realise how youngsters no more than twelve years old had disappeared. In a city full of criminals and kidnappers, it would not be unusual for this to happen.
But Lubbock had followed the clues, and had found a pattern. All of the missing were male, and generally described as being in considerable physical condition, either from surviving in the slums or being trained. Many of them had already shed blood more than once.
They seemed to be taking the fittest, as if they were looking directly for the most capable for something. Were they looking to create a new army? It was hard to tell.
He walked over to an open window, in the distance he could see those three huge ships hanging menacingly over the capital. There were smaller ships, coming and going, what could they be carrying? Little did he know.
Of course, there were still those machine-men from the mountains... But he doubted if they would offer their help. They had long since ceased to contact him.
Lubbock took the bottle and drained it in several gulps until he was unconscious.
[X]
The Amasec filled the crystal goblet in his hands, the golden liquor brought from another world so popular among the nobles. Her curiosity had called to taste it, and though it was distinctively a remarkable taste, the drink was not relevant to her except for certain occasions.
This was one of those occasions.
The balcony overlooked the main street, where thousands of soldiers marched by, all to the beat of a Commissar. Those imperial guardsmen raised their polished boots and rifles proudly aloft. Behind them were Imperial soldiers who had been sent as a show of support and cooperation with the more advanced forces from the stars. The parade was the largest seen in centuries, almost a kilometre being taken up by thousands of men and machines. All led by a group of those legendary space marines at the front, squads had been formed to accompany the boat that was being carried by slaves that had been captured in this operation.
Certainly, Esdeath had not been pleased to learn that the Astartes had decided on their own to attack the main base of the revolutionary army. She would have wished to participate in the hunt, the heat of battle always called to her. The feeling of spilling blood was thrilling.
However, she knew that she could well have wiped out the revolutionary army before they even became a threat. But had not.
She enjoyed the war, the conflict. To such a degree that sometimes wondered, what would become of her when she had defeated them all? That was why wasn't able to destroy her toys too soon.
"Would you like some more Amasec?" Run asked, she nodded and her cup was again refilled with the golden colour.
She heard a rustling sound, as if something was trying to restrain itself from coming out. On the balcony were also other members of the Jaegers, their new team originally created to hunt down traitors or assassins. A countermeasure to Night Raid, but it seemed their purpose would change.
And one of the new members of the Jaegers, had been sent on behalf of the ambassador, or, as only she knew, the inquisitor.
"Something wrong, Cidor?" She asked the Black Templar who was standing on the same balcony watching the parade on the main street. After the creation of the Jaegers, Esdeath had considered using one of those super humans. Partly to reinforce her team, partly to gauge their strength. Their castellan had decided to send the emperor's champion from the battle company, Cidor Nero.
She noticed the creaking sound, it was Cidor's hand gripping the hilt of his black sword. He was pressing it so hard that it felt as if it would break at any moment. There was a slight tremor in his armour, even if he was wearing a helmet, there was no doubt that something was bothering him.
"Is there something you want to talk about?" She asked, somewhat curious to understand these genetically modified warriors a little more. Not that the concept was unfamiliar to her, Dr. Stylish himself had manipulated the DNA of hundreds of people and created lethal and destructive warriors. But this Astartes was something completely different. His body, his armour, his equipment. Everything was as if it had been carefully planned by someone, his physical and mental capabilities were something that, according to Stylish, had been so carefully crafted for every eventuality to a level of extreme premonition.
Cidor didn't respond, just fixed his gaze on the boat leading the procession.
"He's just angry that he wasn't the one who wiped out the revolutionary army." Spoke for him Kurome, who had been at his side devouring more of those biscuits she always carried with her. "I don't blame him. If someone else killed my sister, I would be very, very upset."
"Is that so, Cidor?" Esdeath asked him, with some boldness she dared to add; "Are you envious?"
The nearly teen-foot giant turned his face towards her. The red lenses of his helmet glowing in barely contained fury. "Such human sentiment is beyond my understanding... Though I must admit I feel... anxious."
"There will come many enemies to conquer." Esdeath smiled at him. "Soon we will attack Wakoku, and you will be at the front with us."
Cidor pondered those words. It had only been a week since he had been assigned to this team of mortals. Each with different abilities and personalities, many of which were difficult for him to comprehend, the human psyche no longer working on him. His eidetic memory made him remember every detail about them.
Esdeath was the leader, even if he didn't recognise her. But he had sworn an oath. She was a sadist who would feel special appreciation for her subordinates. Her methods of torture and her physical and deductive abilities gave reason to why the inquisitor had recruited her into his retinue.
Wave, gullible and idealistic. She didn't recognise that, while his physical capabilities might give a good challenge wearing his armour, he would still need decades of training to match a space marine.
Seryu was a ticking time bomb. Her mental instability made her prone to take refuge under her ideal of justice. An ideal that, instead of being put to proper use, gave her the justification to perform unnecessary acts and expend resources on targets of little value. Yet she possessed courage and combat experience acceptable.
Run, even more idealistic in character than Wave. He had spoken to him many times of changing the empire from within, of educating the young to show them that it was more valuable to carry a book than to carry a dagger. And while commendable, Cidor knew he could only go so far. Multiple times, Run had asked him about knowledge of the greater Imperium. Its history, its ideals, its arts and cultures. Cidor couldn't answer all that, but his experience in hundreds of campaigns had allowed him to gather information that Run might find useful.
Kurome was a complex yet simple being. Trained since childhood to serve as an assassin. She had been made so dependent on drugs that she would probably have a year to live before her body collapsed. He had heard of the Eversor, but it was impossible for these primitives to even approach the level of the masters of the assassin temples. Kurome had demonstrated her combat prowess, her sword, Atsufusa, had made count numerous kills.
Dr. Stylish was an eccentric. A kind of madman trying to master what he called science. Truly someone he could only compare to an adept from Mars, but it was like comparing day to night. When he found him he had asked him countless questions, some of them too personal, even bordering on the heretical. Yet he allowed him some blood samples.
"Mr. Nero. This tea is for you." He was told by the voice of a man, Bols, holding a tray with a cup of steaming liquid. This 'tea' was something only some snooty officer would drink, a way to pass the time. But the man in the mask was insistent, he would have refused it, but accepting it would bring to a quicker conclusion.
Cidor removed his helmet and hung it from his waist, and with the same hand that did not hold the black sword, he took from the delicate pottery of the glass. The servos of his gauntlet responded accordingly and applied the necessary force. The tea was green in colour, it had no sweetness or bitterness, it was a faint, barely perceptible taste of herbs of different aromas and tones. For an Astartes who was already accustomed to bland foods, this tea was no big deal, he might even dare to say that it might enlighten his mind enough to forget, at least a little, his annoyance at not having exterminated the heretics.
"Now that you've calmed down a bit, why don't we talk about our new purpose now?" spoke Esdeath, looking at him with a wry smile. "Now that we have no major enemies within the country, we must redirect our efforts."
"Huh? What about Night Raid?" Kurome raised her voice in surprise.
"They're now too insignificant for us. I understand your reasons, Kurome. And I will allow you to do so myself. But you shouldn't worry. They have not dropped off our radar, yes, they can no longer cause trouble, but they are also still criminals who must be eliminated." She opened a container from which frigid air was pouring out and took a fruit from inside. It was in the shape of a peach, though with a different, more exotic hue. She bit into it and paused to feast on the juicy fruit. "But there are still loose ends to tie up, and we have been tasked to do just that. The prime minister has ordered a search for relics in all corners of the continent, not just us, but they are paying considerable sums of money for those who find any."
"I hear a new special ops team has been created similar to ours." Seryu announced. "Supposedly they will be tasked with eliminating all groups opposed to the empire. The southern tribes and western nomads have been considered as possible future insurrectionists."
"Oh? And what is this group called?" Esdeath showed barely noticeable interest at such news.
"Wild Hunt." Seryu answered him, thoughtfully, trying to recall the details of the rumors she had gathered. "I believe it will be led by... Syura...?"
The general laughed, a barely audible chuckle. The prime minister's son, who could conceive the child of such a being? It probably hadn't been consensual, she didn't care, the more the news of that group reached her ears telling her that perhaps they had been copied. "Syura... that guy is a spoiled child... But I don't doubt the reason why Honest chose him. He's perfect for causing terror and destruction to enemies, but he's best if he's deployed far from the capital." She made a mental note, she should get the profiles of every Wild Hunt member, maybe the inquisitor might have an idea.
She took her gaze over one of the buildings, a balcony, where there were two Tempestus Scions and a man with several medals adorning his chest. But she knew that inside that building was Lord Iturbid. She drank from her Amasec, thinking of the gift he had sent her.
There was a sound at the door, and then a maid entered with permission. She approached Esdeath to whisper in his ear.
Esdeath smiled.
[X]
Aragorn brought his hand to the inquisitorial rosette he jealously guarded beneath his robes. Held by an adamantium chain, it was both the piece that gave him the power he had and a reminder of his former mentor.
He returned his attention to the map on the table. The map of this world. A world covered 60% of its surface by water and the rest by two continents. The larger one, where they were right now, and another one barely a third of its size: Wakoku.
An interesting land indeed. With technology even greater than that of the empire. In time, one of the eleven countries controlling it would eventually absorb all the others, forming a powerful and united empire. It was a land that would clearly be a challenge to conquer.
While the empire could focus on containing the surrounding countries, it would not be the same for Wakoku. It would be no easy task to keep it under control with only a few regiments. However, they could not rely on the support of the empire either, as the nations closest to the empire were potential enemies.
The northern lands had only recently been subdued. Their king had been killed and the rebellion crushed. Yet there were small military groups that had already begun to consolidate again. They were a clear future danger.
The south was the one they should probably subdue first. The empire had destroyed the armies of the savage tribes, but it had been confirmed that several had survived and they now had an army of tens of thousands ready to mobilise. They had to take action against them as soon as possible.
Last but not least, the western republic. The only country that had put up any resistance to the empire. It was also the only one in the region with technological advances capable enough to keep the empire at bay if the empire did not want a Pyrrhic victory. It was a country with a certain form of government, there was no leader, but a kind of council or group governing the country under an economic policy controlled entirely by the state. They hated the empire, dominated by an ideology that was opposed to any existence of monarchy.
Whatever it was, it would be necessary for one of the Space Marine companies to deal with them quickly and focus on Wakoku.
"Lord Iturbid, are you sure you do not wish to see the procession out there?" His apprentice's voice came through. In her hands was a small tray with a cup of hot tea. Aragorn took the cup to drink.
"I have more important things to do right now." He kept his eyes on the map. He studied every place on it for the umpteenth time. He took a sip of his drink and set about moving some of the pieces and markers on the map. The revolutionary army had been destroyed, the cities sympathetic to them had been purged, and the republic had withdrawn its forces from the border, their chances of winning gone.
Setting aside the map, he considered watching the procession, but did not wish to inflate Akainu's ego. There were enough tensions between them and the black templar who saw them as savages and looters. Perhaps the last battle of the Carcharodons had caused bitterness at not being chosen to destroy the rebellion. Of course, he had done no more than communicate the growing inconvenience of the rebels to the three captains. It was obvious that the Carcharadons had been quicker and crushed them first.
The Inquisitor exhaled, he wanted to sit down, but it was not natural for him to linger without doing something. He took a fourth look at the room. He had been given accommodation in the most prestigious hotel in the capital, a suite that only the most powerful could afford. Every piece of furniture, corner, ornament and detail had been placed with the utmost care and willing to maintain the highest quality. There was a picture, a painting, which, according to the receptionist, was a work dedicated to the founding of the Empire and the first emperor commissioning the best craftsmen and engineers to create the relics that would ensure the power of this nation. He sighed and fixed his gaze back on the map, considered again going over his invasion plans. How they should attack each nation and how to secure the lands and people to initiate them into the creed and law of the Imperium.
"Has Esdeath sent the information about her Jaegers yet?"
"Yes, she has already sent it. According to her, she has gathered members who could be useful. But I must admit that some of them make me uncomfortable, I think we should stop them or purge them."
The inquisitor took another sip of his tea. The slight minty taste allowed him to have a calmer mind and ready to act. "This is about Dr. Stylish, isn't it? That man has done experiments bordering on the heretical. Most conservatives would have burned him at the stake by now."
"And you are not a conservative, Lord Iturbid?" Gina was carrying documents back and forth, documents she had to review and approve. Just now they were preparing a treaty between this world and the Imperium.
"I am, but I must not pursue radicalization either. His judgement will come, Gina. The situation has become too volatile for that."
Indeed. Even if they had been making progress in integrating this world, there were tensions that had been escalating with each day. Protests between those who approved of the annexation and those who rejected it. Even if he knew that these were nothing more than politically driven, they were still a problem to be dealt with. Not only that, but also the rise of Honest to the position of ruling governor of this planet. The very few opponents had flatly refused this and had asked for a vote to resolve it.
It was then that someone knocked on the door. There was Tempestus Scions guarding the entrance, so it had probably been authorised. Still, he brought a hand to the hilt of his bolter pistol behind and allowed to enter. Gina stood ready as well, Adamantium's spheres already swirling around her.
There was a servant girl. Was Honest trying to buy him back again? Several times already he had offered handmaids, or, frankly speaking, slaves disguised as handmaids carefully selected to serve all sorts of 'special' individuals. He had declined them for the most part, sometimes having to give in as a matter of policy. But if he kept Gina close the maids would do nothing unusual. Especially considering the heavy aura that emanated from his apprentice.
This time, however, he would dare to say aloud that the prime minister had gone too far.
The servant girl carried a chain in her hands, and behind her, on the other side of the chain, were two women crawling on all four limbs. They were barely clothed, their eyes blocked and their mouths gagged. A scent emanated from them - was it some kind of drug? His hand tensed, ready to draw and fire.
"What's the meaning of this, I was very clear with Honest this time!"
The servant bowed in deep respect. "My apologies, but the Prime Minister did not order this. It was General Esdeath."
Iturbid tried to understand the reason behind those words. What the hell was Esdeath trying to do with this?
"Lord Iturbid. I think it would be wise to end this awkward situation. That new addition..." Gina had not stopped spinning the adamantium spheres. Her eyes cold behind the lenses of her glasses.
"I'll handle this, Gina. And I'm not going to do anything weird."
Iturbid ordered the chains removed, even under the maid's protest, he removed the gags from both women.
"What is this...?"
One of the slaves was a young dark-skinned woman. Her body bore marks and scars, signs of cruel training to serve carnal effects. Her eyes were glazed over, completely lost in the effects of the drugs. She lunged at Iturbid, her hands reaching for his crotch. He could feel the anger in Gina, the spheres spinning even more frantically. So he raised his hand and with a psychic pulse knocked her unconscious.
The second had done nothing, she had stood still, her eyes lost in the distance... no, focused on one place. She tried to control her impulse using every part of her will.
He recognised her, blonde hair and white complexion. It was Leone, a former Night Raid member who had been captured a few days ago. "What the hell are you trying to prove, Esdeath?" he asked to himself.
He let out a sigh and reached into his clothes, from which pulled out a vial that slipped into a tube. It was a syringe, capable of injecting all kinds of medicines and remedies with pressurized gas. He put it to her neck and pressed the trigger, a depressurization sound was heard, as well as a moan of pain from Leone. She fell to the ground, her body trembling from the chemical fighting the toxins around her system. She pulled out another vial and tossed it to Gina along with the syringe. She would tend to the other girl.
Leone finally reacted. Her body instinctively reminded him to defend herself. The last thing she had seen was the prison and the darkness. She was trying to adjust to the new circumstances she was seeing.
"Calm down." You were brought here against your will," said Iturbid.
"So you decided to take advantage of the fact that I am now helpless. Now you show your true colours by being just as rotten."
"I am not weak to carnal temptations." Iturbid replied, "Nor am I the reason you are here today."
The dark-skinned girl awoke, the toxins had been purged. She was trembling, trying to understand what was happening. Fear would barely let her speak. "W-where am I?"
"That's not relevant for now." Gina told her.
The slave turned to look at Iturbid, her mind, indoctrinated by her masters, gave her the answer to what to do.
"My master wishes to use me this day?" she crawled on all fours towards the inquisitor. "That must be the reason I was sent here. Allow me to serve you." She tried to approach him, her movements changing from fearful to agile and sensual. As if a switch had flipped in her mind.
Aragorn stopped her, grabbing her shoulders. "No, I seek no such thing this day. Your services are not needed by me. Withdraw."
At these words, the slave girl threw herself to the ground and began to weep. She was still trembling, even more erratic than before. Like someone suffering from an uncontrollable phobia. She threw herself at the inquisitor's feet, kissing his shoes and begging for mercy.
"My lord, I beg your mercy! If I do not fulfil my task this day I shall be thrown into the street. I shall be abandoned to this cruel and horrible world! I beg you to allow me to serve you! I do not want to die in the streets!"
Iturbid pulled her away and his fingers pressed the poor woman's cheeks. He took a closer look, then glanced at her arm, dozens of wounds on her forearm. She had been turned into an addict, a tool to be offered to high-level guests. This sort of thing was not uncommon among the Imperium's nobility.
"Go away." He said as he released her. By my authority you will not be touched. "You are free from now on."
The slave stood speechless for a moment, perplexed by the ambassador's words. But it was then that she threw herself at Iturbid's feet, a clear gesture of gratitude on a desperate soul.
However, an explosion occurred. But there was no fire, only sound. The reverberation of the room set off an alarm, and the Tempestus Scions stationed on the balcony entered, Hellgun in hand and iron discipline.
What had exploded had been the air itself. An effect that only an object of enormous velocity would achieve was brought to an abrupt halt, generating a powerful shockwave that threw the slave to one side. As everyone else registered the situation, they realized that there was a fist-sized sphere of adamantium in mid-air, and Iturbid's hand a few inches away from it. The sphere was spinning as it floated, the massive kinetic energy released was like being shot by a Kraken-class heavy bolter round.
"Gina!" He exclaimed in annoyance. It was unacceptable for an Inquisitor to have one of his acolytes defy his orders. However, this had more than once caused the death of the same inquisitor by being tricked by some enemy. It was a choice Gina had to make, obey the inquisitor or act at any sign of danger. An assassination attempt was not out of the question. Toxins, poisons, hidden blades, firearms or even a human bomb. For the slave to have pounced like that, she could be a suicide bomber trying to exact revenge. And Gina would not risk seeing her master die, so she showed no remorse when confronted by the inquisitor.
Iturbid ignored it for now. He had to deal with this matter immediately. "You," he addressed the servant still in the room, still a little frightened by what had happened, yet he heeded her words. "Take her away and do as I have decreed. She shall be set free, give her some money and release her." His eyes then fell on Leone, who had stood still, trying to hide her existence. She was huddled in a corner, like a feline trying to get herself ignored as the Tempestus Scions escorted the maid out.
Iturbid cut the chains that restrained her, even if he knew that Leone had the ability to fight and defend herself even when unarmed. But it had been proven that if she tried anything it would be impossible to defeat him.
"You ended up being nicer than I had thought... inquisitor."
There was a reason he had let her stay.
"How much did you hear?" he asked, partly knowing the answer.
"Enough to realise that you would kill me for knowing too much." She let out a small laugh. "At least I'll leave knowing that soulless one won't be on this planet anymore..."
"You're right. I should kill you."
The Inquisitor turned away from her, back to the desk looking around for something, finally finding a document he was looking for. "Night Raid is all but disabled. We have destroyed all resistance in this nation. Soon we will move to initiate a conquest over Wakoku. This world will be brought under the shadow of the God-Emperor of Mankind."
He approached her and dropped the file to the floor. There were reports with the names and details of each member of the Night Raid, as well as highly detailed portraits of its members. A lump formed in her throat when she saw the words on some of them: 'Dead' on more than half of them. Only Akame, Lubbock, Lina and Najenda remained alive. Tatsumi's report marked him as missing, but that couldn't be encouraging.
"You're fighting a battle you can't win. Even if you manage to stop me, the Administratum has already marked this planet as a high priority target. And a detachment has already been dispatched and will arrive here in a matter of months." He finally revealed the information to Leone.
The mere consideration of more of them coming to this world made her shudder inside. They were already an unstoppable force. She refused to accept it, but she knew they hadn't even released the full power they possessed. A feeling of dread was washing over her. A force with an iron fist, that knew no mercy or empathy, an Empire that had allowed monsters like Honest to take power as ruler of this planet. But, above all, it was doubt that crept into her above all else.
For the words Iturbid had spoken to her reverberated in her memory: 'A high priority target.'
"Why?" she asked. "Why would this world be of any value to you?" In truth for her it was a question she did not understand. What was this planet to an empire of millions of worlds?
The Inquisitor approached the window, outside the parade was still going on, but that was not the reason Iturbid had approached. He looked up at the sky, seeing beyond this system, to a place of nightmare and pain to the north of the cosmos.
"This galaxy hides things that would make Honest look like a good man." He said. "Do you think we are alone, that we are the only thinking species among the stars?"
Philosophy was not something Leone was versed in. She had heard that once, from Lubbock who one night while stargazing had asked her this question. What was the difference? Humanity had all along been threatened by beasts, monsters that, were it not for the ability of humans to organize and fight together, would have made them extinct by now.
Iturbid ignored the silence and continued. "Your world is important to the Imperium. Whether by chance, or by the will of the God-Emperor. But at this moment the entire galaxy hangs in the verge of destruction, and a world such as this is simply too precious to let go. For it contains an element within it that is too precious and too essential."
A bastion before hell itself
Iturbid was reminded of Vigilus. That dry planet consumed by industry. Quite the opposite of this planet with an abundance of materials. He still remembered the effort, the wasted resources, the lives spent and the enemies of man attacking from all sides. He remembered with hatred the Genestealer cults, always lurking, waiting for the right moment to reveal themselves from the depths of society. The Orks filled him with fury, beasts whose sole purpose was the brutality of war with no regard for anything more or less. And then there was Chaos. The very plunderer he loathed with every particle of his being, he and his infinitely damned progenitor, Horus, the greatest traitor in the history of mankind.
All that anger had an effect. Where a normal human would only denote his discomfort. But Iturbid was a psychic, and emotions were food for the power within him. His already brilliant soul within the Immaterium became even more powerful. And Gina was the first to notice the drop in temperature inside the room, then Leone followed, her instincts screaming at her to escape, from an aura as fearsome as Esdeath herself. And this was not just from a presence, it was something more sinister, something that affected her very soul.
Iturbid broke free of his emotions, the memories of his ancestor bringing him back to the reality that was now being altered under his emotional impulse. In front of him was a terrified Leone, as far away as possible from him and the thin layer of ice that had him as its epicenter. The Inquisitor sighed, annoyed with himself for his momentary lack of control. On the other side was Gina, this one, in contrast to Leone, had remained close to him. Her mind using it to suppress the aura of terror that had exuded from him.
He had already spent too much time wasting it in this impromptu meeting. Esdeath's game should be over by now. From the window he watched as the parade was about to end, the balcony where she stood was up ahead, he couldn't see her, but he knew she was watching him. An acolyte perhaps too independent, but it was this very autonomy that would allow her to survive.
"Leone." He finally called out to her. "I'll give you two choices."
The fear had slowly begun to leave her, and she was now aware enough to hear him. She said nothing, but she was listening to him intently.
"I can simply let them take you away to some dungeon, where your future will be filled with pain and misery. Or I can give you and Night Raid a new chance to redeem their sins."
"And why should I accept them? You will most likely order me to execute innocents. What's the difference between you and this empire?"
"The difference is that, to us, you are insignificant. Your comrades are no longer a threat, all opposition to us has been crushed, my Astartes will simply go after them, and slaughter them without mercy, you know full well they cannot win."
Leone understood this, she knew this very well. There was no way to win, but still, her ideals could not allow her something like that. She could not allow herself to bathe her hands in the blood of innocents, to carry out orders to commit atrocities.
But she didn't want to die either.
She still felt selfish.
But she didn't want to die in such a gruesome method. Raped, tortured and executed in horrible ways. She had seen prisoners sentenced to death being impaled before. Of all, that was the kind of death she feared the most.
"What shall I do...?" She said, cursing herself and condemning her companions.
[X]
The Empire had long tried to subjugate the southern tribes.
It had been a gruelling war for the Empire. The climate and terrain were too much for the imperial troops who could not survive such a desolate and hostile place. Insects, beasts and intense humidity made it a nightmare for the invaders.
This is how the southern tribes had managed to maintain a defence against the imperial war machine. Even if they were few in number, they were still able to fend them off and defend their lands.
That is, until Esdeath had arrived.
The infamous General Esdeath had devastated every tribe that had not submitted to the empire.
But given Esdeath's sadistic and cruel nature, she had allowed several to survive, filled with hatred and resentment towards the empire and its people.
Those survivors are the ones who had once again raised his people, stronger and smarter, a greater threat.
The spear was pointed at his chest as it thrust towards him. His arm moved, several times he had been psycho-indoctrinated for this. His muscles moved like springs, his hand intercepting the spearhead of the tribal in front of him.
The bolter carbine fell to one side, still held by the strap. He didn't need it for this occasion. He clenched his fist and threw a punch, his already genetically altered strength causing him to feel bones snapping in his attacker's face. The attacker fell to the ground, unconscious, but not dead. He left him in chains and threw him in with the others, someone else would pick him up later.
This was a relatively large village, the palisade surrounding the village had been left intact.
This was to prevent any escape.
His bones still ached, the apothecary had told him that this was normal, in time his body would get used to the accelerated growth of muscle and bone. He touched his chest, felt his bones changing, his ribs slowly melting into a solid plate harder than steel. He had been eating lots of things rich in minerals and ceramics, the sergeant had told him that the more he ate the stronger his bones would become.
He approached one of the many wooden huts, and with a kick, pushed open the door. He pointed the bolter carbine from side to side, scanning the room. There, in the corner stood a pair of children, both boys. One of them, the older one, was in front, his body trying to hide the smaller one. The older one had a dagger in his hands, in his eyes was a deep anger, but more so a clear fear of his person, of the invader of his dwelling.
He observed and weighed the situation, two children, one of them lightly armed. After a few seconds he lowered the bolter and approached. The older boy lunged at him, screaming as he tried to stab him. He was slow, erratic and lacked technique. He took a quick swipe at his hand and the dagger fell to the ground. She took advantage of the momentum and slammed her knee into his chest, depriving him of air. He fell to the ground, writhing in pain, the lack of air causing him to pass out in seconds. The younger one was easier to deal with. In one swift movement he struck him in the back of the head, knocking him out immediately. He picked them up and carried to the outskirts of the village, where the sergeant would be waiting.
The orders had been simple. Every male child was to be taken outside the village, where a squad of Carcharodons, those who watched over their progress, would send them out as potential new recruits.
Tatsumi and fifteen other scouts had been deployed to this village.
Some of his now battle-brothers were already further along in implanting the special organs that would make them Astartes. He was now one of the newest. He felt his new heart beating, his blood circulation improving, his bones continuing to grow, and he felt himself gaining more and more muscle mass each day thanks to the biscopea.
However it would be a slow and painful process until he reached the second phase.
But even so, he knew he was still a long way from being worthy of wearing power armour.
And he was reminded of that by the blade of a spear that had been thrust into his chest.
Yet, thanks to his reinforced bones, the blade would only leave a nick in them. His organs protected from the thrust, it was an intense pain, but it was not fatal.
The spear recoiled and attempted another attack, this time Tatsumi reached for his blade, blocking it in an instant. Hhis attacker stepped back, and then could see who he was up against. It was a woman, tall, tanned skin, light dark. She was a warrior of the southern tribes, the skimpy clothing she wore gave speed, while the leather plates giving extra protection without weighing her down.
Tatsumi considered shooting her, but the sergeant had only allowed them to do it if necessary. Anyone would think that on this occasion it would be most necessary. The training had taught him otherwise. He was training to become a future Astartes, for one of them, was it necessary to face a mere human with a spear? That was why he had decided to use the bolter only against any beast that appeared, attracted by a potential easy meal.
Moreover, the parameters of the mission had been defined.
This was a tithe.
And the Carcharodons needed more manpower. Especially when they had lost so many on Vigilus.
Long ago, Tatsumi would have waited for his opponent to attack.
But the Carcharodons, his brothers, had taught him the value of immediate offence. He could not give his enemy a chance to prepare for an attack, he had to be the first to spill blood.
It was for this reason that he threw himself against her.
Both blades clashed against each other, multiple blows of metal against metal reverberated. She was swift, precise, each of her attacks was well measured and performed with almost masterful skill. Tatsumi felt a familiar sensation as she blocked and deflected each blow, she had fought someone similar to her before. She tried to remember, to find a kinship. Black hair, a cursed sword...
The psycho-indoctrination hit him, the safeguards in his brain activating. His mind forcing him to forget, to leave past behind. He was now part of the chapter, no longer belonged anywhere else. He swung his sword and with one slash split the spear in two. The young woman was now unarmed, his sword had swung to one side, his muscles tensing ready for a diagonal slash. Yet his brain flashed back, the memory of tragedy, of anger and revenge. The same angle he had once used to exalt his fury at someone who had stolen something most precious from him.
His mind punished him again, it was wandering and forced him to refocus. He had wandered for a second, but it had been all it took for his opponent to sneak around his flank, knife in hand looking for a stab.
Tatsumi reacted, the training again calling to him. He dropped his sword and without the weight in the way he threw his elbow and smashed into her temple. The reinforced bones worked like a hammer knocking her unconscious.
Now on the ground she was helpless. Should he leave her here? It didn't hurt that she might escape if she turned her back on him. Besides, he had to take the other children to the outskirts of the village to be tested and selected by the sergeant. He was to take as many as he could to be received as potential recruits.
"Hey, you put up a good fight." A voice said behind him. Tatsumi turned, not letting his guard down, as could be another enemy.
In front of him stood a man with tanned skin and white hair. A cross-shaped scar ran across his face that bore a cruel, thirsty look. The man brought his eyes to the woman on the ground and licked his lips.
"And what an interesting bounty you've got yourself..."
"Syura..." Tatsumi remembered her name. One of the Wild Hunt members who had offered to assist in the tithing of the Carcharodons in exchange for any riches they found in each village. The Carcharodons had accepted, for to them the only thing of value in all this was recruits and new slaves for them.
Nothing else.
However, it was not uncommon for Wild Hunt to ask for a couple of slaves from time to time, mostly women, trying to compensate by capturing more and more servants for the Carcharodons.
"Mind if I help you carry them? That way we can get over with this quicker."
Tatsumi didn't mind, in his view it would be the most practical way to handle this situation. However, there was something in Syura's voice that kept him on his toes at every turn, like a whisper alerting to a danger within him.
Let him try.
By the time they reached the stockade, they noticed a Thunderhawk descended. These were the children, the youngest who would go through multiple tests to see if they were worthy of even becoming recruits. Tatsumi knew that many, perhaps almost all, would die. His brothers would choose only the best for the chapter, and the rest, hopefully, would be turned into servants.
But there was another group there, a larger one. They were the villagers, adults, men and women gathered there. In chains, trembling for their fate. They would be sent to the Maw of the Predator, the Carcharodon assault cruiser. Where they would serve as labour, until the demise of their bodies.
Then Tatsumi noticed someone approaching them, it was a thin, but sharp looking man, like a razor. He grabbed the neck of a prisoner, a young woman. Then in one movement he tore her clothes away, revealing her entire body. She tried to cover herself, but the guy held her arms, looking her up and down. After drawing a smile on his face he turned to Syura himself. "This one." He voiced. Syura nodded, then turned to look at Tatsumi.
"The good Oku, he has allowed us to take some." Syura picked up the woman he had brought and carried her over his shoulders. "Don't take this the wrong way, I know it was you who defeated her. But a deal is a deal."
Tatsumi nodded, after all, the Assault Leader had allowed that. Plus, Syura had most likely already spoken to Oku.
"Oh dear, oh dear. What have we here?"
A shrill yet unpleasant voice let itself be heard. There stood a man, his face painted with make-up and a ridiculously overly showy suit. "Two little angels have fallen, two beautiful creatures. I wish I could take them for a nice walk." The man was referring to the children Tatsumi had captured.
The scout's senses were triggered. In front of him stood, not only a wicked being, but also a hindrance to the chapter by taking recruits away from him. This was something none of his brothers would forgive. And he was about to go for his bolter, were it not for the fact that Syura himself had intervened.
"Champ!" His voice had authority over the clown, who flinched at the sound. "We talked about this! Besides, I ordered you to help the others collect everything of value. Now, get back!"
Like a dog that had been beaten, the clown named Champ obeyed and returned.
"Sorry about that." Syura told him. "I must keep an eye on him. Ah well, I'd better retire too. Tell good Oku my thanks and we'll move on to the next village."
With the girl slung over his shoulders, Syura disappeared behind the rustic buildings these natives called homes.
For some reason Tatsumi thought he should felt a hatred towards this man, rather than considering him just another threat. When Wild Hun had been introduced Syura had told that his group would aim to hunt down the enemies of this new Imperium that had arrived, including Night Raid.
That name again, those words hung on his lips. There was something that made him think these should be something important to him, something he had lost. But the psycho-indoctrination wouldn't let him. His mind wandered, he felt as if he were trying to catch raindrops with his hands.
"There's something bothering you, Scout." It wasn't a question, but a statement, the Assault Leader, Oku would notice without a problem.
Tatsumi turned to look at him and folded his hands in a sign of the Aquila. "Just my mind again, Assault Leader, nothing more."
"The sessions should be longer." The Astartes voiced. "Brother Chaplain Dokon will take that task."
"My deepest thanks." Tatsumi replied with a bow.
"You have gathered many goods." Oku continued as he looked at the more than forty prisoners gathered in the place, they were only part of several other posts. "You are a good predator."
"Some of them were also brought by my brothers."
"Enough of modesty. Modesty has no place among us. I have watched you, as well as all the others. You have potential, accept that and keep it to yourself."
"I remain chastised, Assault Leader."
A new Tunderhawk descended. And this time it would take the last prisoners from this village. Oku and two other Astartes climbed up, Tatsumi was the last, behind him were his brother Scouts, one of them was bleeding, a wound in his side he was trying to contain. There was something pink dangling, and another was treating the wound using the medical equipment on board.
Tatsumi took one last look around the village.
One that would now remain deserted.
[X]
This took really longer than expected.
It's funny, as I'm finishing this one an earthquake has hit my country.
Anyway.
I don't want to make dozens of chapters for this fic. I feel like I'm in the middle of the story. Hope to finish it in 2022.
For now, please read and enjoy, and if you can leave a review. Criticism is good.
I will continue with Gate of false liberty.