Brother Jokin – Black Shield
The giant strode down what passed for an alley in the hive before turning back onto a main thoroughfare. Ordinary humans stopped and gawked or ran. Most had only ever heard rumours of the Emperor's Angels of Death. This apparition in their midst didn't fit the descriptions of golden heroes in blessed armour protecting the Emperor's faithful followers. His armour was battle damaged, covered in gore, blood and chunks of unrecognisable meat. Rents in the black armour showed through to the flesh beneath and the grinding noise as he moved told of at least one servo joint protesting abuse.
Brother Jokin Levin looked neither left or right. He knew his quarry wasn't far, but he also knew they were still running. His keen hearing filtering out the ambient noise of the hive could still detect easily the slap of running feet ahead and the timber and tempo remained unchanged.
Chaos cultists had initiated an ambush with explosives that had all but destroyed a hive dwelling and severely damaged several others. It had also laid low the Lamenter of the kill team sent to root out this tiny spot of corruption and recover the artefact at the centre of the chaos outbreak. Brother Lawrence was being attended by fellow kill team member, the Apothecary Nigellis Giles of the Aurora Chapter. That left two marines to follow up the ambushers through the mass of humanity that was the hive.
Brother Deln of the Sons of Guilliman Chapter and the Black Shield Jokin had agreed to split up and parallel each other through the hive's busy streets. The pair looked out of place amongst the haunted gaunt faces of the street urchins, street walkers and munitorium workers going to or from their assigned shifts. It was Jokin who took first blood. Upon sighting a fleeting figure dart from a side alley into the crowd milling about nervously 200 metres away, he took one shot from his Skapulan Pattern Bolter and the 19.05mm round exploded within the brain cavity of the target dropping him instantly to the grimy street surface. Use of the explosive rounds in these conditions meant that collateral damage was minimised in the crowded hive as the charge detonated within the mass of the target; Jokin thought this even as the blood and gore was still expanding outward to cover surrounding members of the crowd.
Instantly the air was filled with shrieks of pure fear as the human mass went from a writhing serpentine entity into a stampeding herd of wild-eyed creatures. None really understood what they ran from, only that the Emperor's Angels of Death were amongst them, and the mob careened from wall to alley in a vain attempt to avoid being killed for whatever petty transgressions drove their individual guilt.
Jokin ignored the normal humans as they raced to be the first to avoid him. He knew his quarry, had seen them, smelt the filth of chaos taint in the moments after the ambush was executed and they ran from their cover to avoid retribution. Sadly, for them, the lords of chaos were not smiling down upon them. It was the Emperor of Mankind's guiding hand in the form of a gene-formed space marine that shone upon them this day. Mere moments had passed from Jokin's shot when the report of two more bolt rounds echoed from the black shield's left. He trotted off in that direction confident that his battle brother had finished the other two ambushers.
Brother Deln stood over two corpses, or what remained of them as Jokin approached. Seeing his kill team brother approach he turned slowly as his auto senses fed information about his surroundings. He was sure all the cultists were dead, but a warrior never assumed and he mentally marked various points where other cultists may attack from. It was Jokin who stooped and picked up the small knife, wickedly sharp yet ornate with a large red jewel set into the pommel.
There had still not been a word uttered between the two marines as they covered the last few metres back to the ambush site where Brother Nigellis was watching over the fallen Lamenter. This was not unusual, in fact, Jokin would have thought it more unusual for any of his Death Watch brothers to talk to him without an absolute need to. As a black shield, he was accepted nowhere other than the Death Watch, yet even amongst these warriors of renown, he was shunned by silence.
"Will he survive"? It was Deln who broke the silence directing his question to the apothecary. Nigellis turned his helmeted head slightly toward Deln as his vox clicked "Yes although he is serious enough that his sus-an membrane has taken over. I can do nothing more here".
"The black shield recovered the object so we can call in transport". Deln nodded in direction of Jokin even as he dismissed his importance with his words. Battle Brother Jokin, an Angel of Death with no recognisable allegiance other than the Emperor was only marginally more palatable to other loyal space marines than the chaos worshipping cultists they had so recently cut down… even in the Death Watch.
Despite his obvious injuries, he was not surprised when the apothecary made no move toward him to treat him. After three centuries hunting xenos and chaos cults across the Imperium of Man as a member of the Death Watch, Battle Brother Jokin Levin was brother only in name to his peers who still treated him with distain and suspicion. He stood as if frozen, watching out for any new threats as the roar of the Thunderhawk's engines signalled its approach and the promise of what small comfort was afforded his small cell aboard the orbiting strike cruiser. Three centuries, was it ever going to be enough to expunge the shame he wondered.