Shadow of a Doubt
Chapter 19
Go on, another slice and it'll be complete. The voice whispered in his head again as Mikhail grinned and looked at the body in front of him. Behind him stood former Inquisitional Stormtroopers, all wearing vile sigils that hurt the eyes carved into their skins and their carapace armour. Their armour itself was warped, far from the crisp clean issued carapace armour from the Schola Progenium, holding now symbols of dread and the eight pointed star of Chaos. Around them stood the shamans of the Feral Tribes that led the fur clad humans in the world who waved massive ceremonial poles clad with human and animal skulls. The body was split wide open in front of him, a former Champion of the tribe who fell to Mikhail's wych talents and now as was the law of the tribe, the former warrior was to be sacrificed to the Great Star God. Mikhail understood the meaning to be of the God Emperor, although the patronages he sacrificed to now were mortal enemies of the Carrion Throne. With one more slice, he was able to carve the eight pointed star inside the tissues of the corpses heart and grinned before a foul red light surrounded them and would wash out all the way around the small forest clearing. The chaos shock troops behind him seemed to roar their devotion out to the dark gods as the light engulfed them while all around them; the tribesmen started falling one by one as their innards were dissolved and their souls ripped out in sacrifice. Even the shamans could only take a few steps before their eyeballs were dissolved as their wych souls were ripped out and cast into the warp to feed the dark hunger of the pantheon. As the light faded away, what remained of the tribesmen were twisted warped abominations. With elongated fangs, and claws as well as limbs that were definitely not human, the mutants rose one by one and howled as their skulls took on wolf like features. The howls would soar high into the skies as Mikhail grinned and ripped out the heart and began to feast on it, biting into the still hot flesh and swallowing in great gulps.
With a gesture, he would point towards another village that they had travelled past and with a psychic command, the mutants began to advance towards it. The Stormtroopers behind him would follow Mikhail as the cultist began to walk through the forest as well towards the village. As the mutant horde approached the village gates, many had been outside of their huts looking to see where the source of the red light had come from, many clutching talismans to ward away the evil spirits that had been rumoured to haunt the forests. With blood thirsty bays to the sky, the mutants would charge through the village, slaughtering and feasting on all that they took. They would fill the air with the screams of their slaughter as men, women and children were ripped apart, chewed on and bit into. While the mutants carried on their wanton slaughter, Mikhail led the Stormtroopers to around the village where desecrated unguents and oils were carefully mixed with blood and symbols were drawn onto the center of the village. Arcane symbols of a language too maddening to truly be understood by humans, they painted the grounds until the mutants would drag prisoners towards them, those captured and spared for some particular reason. The village shaman, as well as some of the village's warriors were grasped by the unholy strengths of the mutants who awaited a signal as they stood over the symbols drawn moments ago. At a signal, the mutants would execute their captives by stabbing their claws underneath the ribcages and ripping out the hearts with relish. Over one hundred hearts were held up into the sky as then symbols themselves began to glow and leak blood onto the village. At this instance, the portals opened around them, rings of red hellfire as the dark portals within them were lit with an unholy purple warp light, the screams of the warp itself could be heard as the first dark crimson armoured giant stepped out of the portal and held up his staff with a triumphant roar to the stars above. Mikhail as well as the Stormtroopers all knelt to him while the mutants bayed and whimpered in fear, getting on the ground on all fours like beasts who had just been reminded of their place by their Alpha.
Behind him marched a dozen of his hand chosen servants, dark crimson armour with high gorge armour around their necks wielding axe rakes and ornate bolters while scriptures of Lorgar were tacked onto their armour. Then screeching from another portal on jetpacks borne of unholy flames trailing behind them in a mixture of bright green and dirty smoke landed figures with revving chainswords and bird of prey like helmets who screeched their fury across the forest itself. The last portal revealed a very neat and orderly formation of crimson armoured Astartes who carried their weapons across their chest and marched through the portal. The Chaos Lord chuckled, a deep rich baritone sound as he looked around the village surrounded by blood and sacrifice. "You have done well my child. Now rise and receive your reward." Mikhail could only shiver in anticipation and stood up, not daring to look the chaos lord in the eyes while Lord Etanes the Ashfanged grinned underneath the daemonic visage of his helmet and raised his cursed Crozius into the sky and chanted words of power. Words of undiluted warpcraft that sent a searing light through Mikhail's body, the former Interrogator screaming out in the purest of pain as his body was remolded, his puny human limbs disappearing and his head splitting apart as his features changed. Horns grew from his head and claws appeared as his skin broke around him to reveal scales in various sections. He would shiver as he looked at his new body and bowed deeply to the Chaos Lord for his gifts.
With another series of words, Etanes cut a hole into the warp itself and chanted his unholy words where soon, he would reach in and pull out a shadowed figure. As the figure was tossed onto the ground, it grew to over eight feet tall, power armour appearing around him as he finally fell onto the ground before getting up and dusting himself. "You know Etanes, your summons could do with some refinement." Viprus stated as he dusted off his white power armour and grinned cockily at the Chaos Lord. At such disrespect, one of his bodyguards kicked the reborn Astarte down onto the ground with a growl. Viprus held a hand up and got back up again before sighing softly.
"You would not be here Blood Angel, if it were not for the wishes of the Gods for you to finish your original task. Your failure is what resulted in this. If you fail again, your soul will be eternally tormented in the warp." The Chaos Lord hissed before walking away, followed by his Octaivan bodyguards. Viprus sighed to himself and wondered longingly what had happened to the lovely Dark Eldar slave he had. It was too bad, she was probably dead. What a waste.
Lord Etanes stopped in front of the mutants and smiled. The boy was probably one of the better agents he had employed over the years, infiltrating the Inquisition itself. "Go forth, bring me more of you. More prisoners, do not feed too much or you will feel my wrath. Understood?" The Mutants bowed in acknowledgement before running off into the forests, their despicable forms quickly being hidden in the shadows of the thick foliage. Mikhail knelt to his Lord in supplication. "What shall you have me do, Lord."
"Go forth and the lead the Mutants. Ensure that we have fresh specimens and prisoners, we will have much use for them. Do not disappoint me, for I will peel every inch of skin from you as you hang and delicately pull out every vein inside your body so that you may see the pumps of your own heart before you are cast into the warp." Mikhail bowed deeply before quickly joining the Mutants in their rampage through the forest towards the small sounds of life spread throughout the forest.
The small base held only just over a hundred soldiers as well as support staff, the red armoured Severan Dominate soldiers on guard duty yawning as they once again stood watch in the small insignificant base that held the central road to the middle of nowhere. Another larger military base where supplies were shuttled in once a week that was the only reason for the base. He was just glad that he was not facing the Guard on various battlefields across the Domain, their freedom as hard won. The las rifle resting on the sandbag beside him as he sat on another sandbag was newly minted from the forges. The last time he had fired it was when he had been drafted into the defence forces. The only other humans here were feral tribesmen and they left each other. The tribesmen hunted and gathered for sustenance while they ate ration packs and smoked lho sticks, and the occasional curious hunter would move close towards the base and take a look before wandering off again. It was a simple task and he was just glad that he could be in his rack soon, in another hour where he can sleep for a bit and enjoy some leisure time. Perhaps a card game with his squad again? The thought was disturbed by a loud cracking of fallen tree branches. He quickly frowned and picked up the binos to look towards the forest, looking around for the source of the sound before a loud scream would erupt from one of the sentries posted a few dozen feet away. He looked up and over just to see the soldier impaled on a set of monstrous claws belonging to a horned humanoid figure who would rip the soldiers heart out and held it up high and roaring in a language he didn't understand. But he understood the meaning as soon as they came out of the forest.
Almost seven feet tall with wolf like features, the mutant beasts roared into the base howling and baying for blood. He quickly picked up his las rifle and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Glancing down, he saw that the safety was still on and quickly flicked it off before firing at the horde of mutants that came out of the jungle. Some of them were dropped as more las beams joined the fight, the thin bright red beams lancing into the darkness of the forest as they blew out bones and evaporated organs with impunity. However the numbers would tell soon. As the las rifle clicked on empty, he quickly reached down to change magazines only to feel a warm wetness on his uniform blouse. He looked down to see a pair of claws impaled in his chest, looking beside him to see the wolf like visage of the mutant who roared and ripped his heart out. As he fell, he could see around him the mutants dragging many off into the night itself as more and more mutants hurled themselves into the camp. He thought he could hear heavy bolter fire in the back ground but that sound was quickly silenced even before he hit the ground. With a cough, he vomited out more bloody matter and could hear the world around him no more.
Looking around at the Severan Dominate Camp, Mikhail revelled in his new gifts from the Pantheon and grinned savagery. With a roar, he watched as the mutants hurry to obey him, each of the mutants grabbing prisoners and dragging them in. Some of the humans were clubbed across their heads to knock them out, while others were dragged kicking and screaming over to a small structure where they were thrown inside without las rifles or anything else. The small warehouse was guarded by a pack of mutants who held in their hands chainswords taken from the camps supply dump. Mikhail closed his eyes and sent a psyker message to his master, letting him know that there are prisoners here.
The Stormeagle touched down gently, almost landing on the ground but a few inches of space separated earth and the gunship. Dismounting quickly, the flurry of dusk blue armoured Marines and the single squad of dark red moved into the forest carefully, their cameoline cloaks waving slightly around them as the Stormbird quickly activated its cloaking mechanism again and began to fly back up to stratosphere levels. The four squads each covered off a sector for a second as their active camouflage settled in and blended them into their surroundings. Consulting the auspex in his helmet, Kyreg quickly mapped out and marked the largest landing point that had been detected from orbit. The Thunderhawk which had flown down from the now destroyed Inquisitorial ship still had its power on, and that was what caught the attention of the strike cruiser in orbit. If they could secure it, it might be able to be used. If it has not been corrupted, that is. If it has been, then it would be blown in place. As valuable as another Thunderhawk would be, bringing corruption onboard the Kilo Zeta was simply not acceptable. Rythor, Daygis and Tarquin all voxed confirmations as the strike force spread out and began to advance through the forests with their weapons readied.
Captain Ikanis looked over the overall map. He had spoken to Atilius earlier and confirmed the assault pattern they would be using. Thankfully, both the XVI and the XII both used aggressive assault tactics. It just meant however, that the style of the XVI complimented the assault tactics of the XII. The strike cruisers passive auger was still on, and scanning the planet. The position of the stealth spear units were marked on the map, as well as the position of the assault spear. Of concern were the large gatherings that numbered near the positions marked as military installations of the Severan Dominate. The Lunar Wolf Captain curled his lips in disgust at the humans that made up the Severan Dominate. For those to turn away from the light of the Emperor and try and set up their own domain, it was an insult. It was an insult to every drop of blood shed by his brothers during the Great Crusade only to find the mortals rebelling. Of course while they were just mortals, it did not make their lascannons or heavy bolters any less deadly. The las rifles used by mortal soldiers were laughable in their stopping power. Heavy weapons were a different story all together. He quickly made some adjustments to their point of advances; he had a feeling that the assault spear would be needed soon.
Atilius looked over at him and placed his armoured fist over a breastplate, Ikanis returning the gesture. The Warhound Sergeant was a veteran of many forlorn hopes, something which Ikanis appreciated, the skills of veteran Sergeants were what held squads together during battles after all.
Kyreg saw the vessel first. It was parked in a grassy field with its engines turned off, its wings folded and the ramp lowered. He held up a hand and voxed Sergeant Tarquin. "Clear the vessel, I need you to check it for corruption." The Sergeant blipped back a response and led his Anpa stealth squad forward. He exchanged the ornate volkite charger he held for a stalker bolt pistol loaded with stalker rounds and gave a quick gesture to his squad. The XV legionnaires did the same, their weapons too powerful to be fired inside the Thunderhawk for fear of damaging priceless relics. He looked into the Thunderhawk and saw only three Servitors and a single pilot who was lounging on the benches smoking a lho stick. With a series of hand signals including a single finger across the throat, he advanced into the cargo bay.
The pilot looked up and dropped his lho stick as he saw the Achean pattern power armour of the Thousand Sons and was about to yell out in surprise when Tarquin grabbed the mortal by his face, his armoured hand covering his mouth and quickly smacked the man's head with the butt of the bolter pistol grip, knocking him out. The Servitors sat there unmoving and emotionless. "The vessel is clear Commander. I would appreciate if you pulled your forces forward and covered the Thunderhawk while Anpa communes and senses potential corruption." Kyreg acknowledged the message and gave the orders briskly. Gungnir and Xythos moved quickly to the front of the Inquisitional gunship, quickly moving down to one knee in the bushes providing them with cover as their active camouflage quickly blended with the branches and leaves. Daygis pushed Asgeir forward as well, their larger numbers allowing them to form a "U" behind the Thunderhawk, their active camouflage melding them in with a slight shimmer around the gunship.
Tarquin gave the order and all five legionnaires unhelmed themselves, locking their helmets onto their armour before closing their eyes and summoning the powers of the warp. They focused their powers onto Tarquin who took the offered energy and focused it into a beam of warplight, the light traversing over the ship slowly before he would open his eyes and look around, his vision tinted purple by the din of the warplight flowing through his body. The other four still stood in the circle with their eyes closed and their heads bowed as Tarquin looked over the entire gunship slowly, and carefully. It seemed the machine spirit was sturdy, trace amounts of corruption could be seen being destroyed and cleansed by the machine spirit on board, even the rare metals used in the circuitry of the ship blessed and inlaid with daemon resistance silver. Tarquin brushed his mind over the machine spirit who responded to him and acknowledged his devotion and loyalty to the Emperor and settled in as it began to cleanse the rest of the corrupting energy that sought to take over the Thunderhawk. Tarquin responded by focusing his energy into the circuit board, molding the energy into a pure white light and using it to burn away the traces of the corruption, the machine spirit acknowledging his efforts with a few soothed blips. However, it did not seem to want the servitors there anymore. Nodding with acknowledgement, Tarquin used the pure wych light and scorched the servitors into ash eliciting a soft blip of thanks from the machine spirit. Understanding its intentions, he would quickly meld his mind with the machine spirit, sending its pain at having to transport something warp tainted in its cargo hold.
"Commander, the Thunderhawk is clean. The machine spirit inside resisted any corruption and I have helped it cleanse itself. However, a tech marine still needs to look over this in order to conduct any repairs." The machine spirit blipped a few times at his words, their melds still having trace tendrils attached.
"Acknowledged Tarquin, attach signal beacon coded to Kilo Zeta frequencies and we will move on." Tarquin acknowledged the order with a blip of the vox before reaching out to lightly touch the Thunderhawk before exiting with his squad. Once they exited, the active camouflage around them would activate again as the stealth spear quickly moved to new positions and the force would move deeper into the forest.
One week later
Kyreg stopped at the edge of the clearing, he could sense multiple contacts beyond the village that stood in front of him, the feral humans there gathering spears and other rudimentary weapons as their Shaman prepared them for war. Beyond the village of less than one thousand humans, his auspex could detect a few hundred other signatures, non-human ones. He pondered it for a moment before coming up with a plan. With a simple order, Gungnir and Xythos began to circle the village towards the contacts, moving slowly and silently with the well-practiced movements of veteran XX Legionnaires. Brushing aside a small branch silently and then gently letting it fold back into place without a sound after him, Kyreg could see that in the forestry covering the village were humanoid creatures. Wolf like in features with claws, some carrying chainswords and some carrying crudely fashioned axes and they seemed to wait for some order. Kyreg quickly sent a command to Asgeir and Anpa; drum magazines were going to be needed. The marksmen in Gungnir and Xythos both locked their sniper rifles in place and drew bolter pistols, drum magazines being loaded in with quiet clicks. Each drum magazine was loaded with sixty rounds of Cainite rounds, more than enough to deal with some mutants. Asgeir and Anpa both moved silently into the village, their active camouflage hiding themselves from the eyes of the feral humans while Xythos and Gungnir circled around to the flanks, weapons held at the ready.
There was an unseen command given and as one, the mutants howled for blood and charged through the jungles towards the feral humans who were gathering in thin spear lines, gritting their teeth and holding their spears towards the charging mutants while their Shamans yelled out words of encouragement in the bastardized low gothic that could barely be understood.
"Bind them in place brothers." Kyreg ordered. In five simple words, Asgeir and Anpa revealed themselves with bolters firing steadily into the mutant horde. Brass casings scattered across the dirt as the feral humans gaped at their rescuers. The Shamans themselves paused for a moment and yelled out. "Angels! The Sky gods Angels!"
The Cainite rounds hit flesh, melta charges spraying forward through skin and bone while mutagenic acid sprayed through bodies, eating and dissolving vital organs as well as flesh and bone. The Asgeir Legionnaires fired their twin-linked combi-bolters into the charging mass, while Anpa quickly stepping into line to cover those who were reloading so the rate of fire never went down. Red beams of volkite would cut through the ranks, turning chunks of torso as well as limbs and heads into ash. Kyreg then gave the order to fire as well, Xythos and Gungnir firing into the exposed flanks and rear of the mutants. Kyreg cut down half a dozen of the charging mutants, firing his comb-stalker bolter into their rear as the Cainite rounds melted flesh and bones. Rythor led his squad forward as he fired in precise aimed single shots.
Tarquin raised his hand and with a thought turned the entire front lines of the charging mutants into ash with purple warp fire, the sky being filled with drifts of cindering ash. Daygis gave the order, bolters were exchanged for bolt pistols and power daggers as the mutant horde got closer. Tarquin stepped forward with Anpa squad who emptied their magazines in long automatic bursts through their charging foe before stepping back as Daygis gave the order to charge. With bursts of ozone, power daggers were activated by the dusk blue giants and the battle line charged.
"They've engaged. One last peel and blades." Kyreg ordered. The Legionnaires under his command exchanged spent magazines for fresh ones, and sprayed their fury through the exploding wall of mutated flesh, muscle tissues and bones exploding under the impact of the high powered bolt shells.
"For the Emperor!" Kyreg roared as he drew his phase blade and charged, Gungnir drawing their power axes and charging into the fray. As a mutant raised a chainsword towards him, the Commander kicked him in the chest, crushing his ribs before cutting its head off with a swing of his blade while Gungnir fought with a much more brutal style. A ceramite wall rammed into the mutant hordes flank, shattering their momentum as Rythor lead his squad in a swirling wall of crackling power axes, cutting through flesh and bone with ease as they left behind them broken bodies and lifeless limbs swathed with ichor and guts. Xythos Legionnaires all drew their power swords at Kyreg's signal, Thobor sending a stream of warp lightning through an entire rank of mutants before he surged forward and with one swing of his power blade, he bisected three mutants while Ulyr grabbed a mutant by the throat and lifted him up and threw him into a whirring chainsword before a quick stab forward gutted the chainsword wielding mutant, his arm swishing upwards and slicing his chest and guts open. Mytis swung his blade to parry a chainsword aimed for his head while his armoured gauntlet crushed the skull of a mutant that he grabbed before tossing the corpse aside and skewering the mutant with the chainsword sideways, slicing open his ribs and kicking it to the ground before a ceramite boot crushed the creatures skull, grey brain matter and blood forced onto the dirt.
"We are the Legios Astartes and we will not stand for such affronts to the Emperor of Man!" Tarquin screamed as his squad sent blazing warp flames through the ranks of the mutants, fat sizzling as flesh was seared and organs boiled, more of the mutants falling onto the ground while Daygis and his squad scythed through the mutant ranks with power daggers sizzling as mutant blood gushed forward, the razor sharp blades slicing arteries and jugular apart. While new to the 8th, Asgeir squad were still veteran Headhunters in every way. Daygis smashed his helmet into the elongated wolf like face of a mutant even as he clubbed another mutant with a spear with his bolt pistol, his right arm slamming the power dagger through the first mutant's chest before spinning around to impale the blade right into the throat of another. Slaine, the Asgeir marksman blasted a chainsword bearing mutant with a single round to the head, the mutant's skull disappearing as the melta tip from the Cainite round erupted and melted its skull with ease while the acid dissolved the grey matter there. With a flourish, the marksman sliced the spear head from a mutant who bared its teeth at him before he kicked the creature in its knees, bones cracking and splintering while the creature roared in pain, the marksman crushing its skull in with a swing of his bolter pistol.
The aftermath of the battle saw corpses piled up in one large group by the villagers while the village Shaman ordered the bodies burnt. The feral tribesmen looked at the angels of the Emperor who had saved them in their time of need, and they kneeled. Kyreg walked forward towards the village Shaman who went on one knee and bowed his head. "Jaci Tribe gives welcome Angel." The Shaman said with a bowed head. "Rise up feral son. You have fought well." The Shaman looked up at the Commander, his eyes squinting as he looked upon the dusk blue armoured figure that stood in front of him. "Jaci fought well, Jaci died well." He responded in a distinct pronunciation of low gothic, marking his ancestors as perhaps ones who had been enlightened to the Emperor through the Great Crusade. "Jaci sacrifice sons for Sky God." Kyreg nodded. "Jaci is loyal to the Sky God." He stated, while the Shaman nodded furiously. "Jaci loyal to Sky God, Jaci die for Sky God." Kyreg nodded and then after a moment looked at the Shaman. "What are you called." The Shaman thought about the question for a moment. "I Quidel, Jaci Shaman." The Astartes Commander nodded. "Quidel. I have a task for you, a task important to the Sky God." The Shaman bowed his head, as did his warriors. "If Sky God wish, Jaci stand in flame." Kyreg smiled underneath his helmet. He appreciated such devotion to the Emperor. He would reach onto his armour and pull off a small symbol, a small golden Aquila and handed it to Quidel.
The Shaman bowed his head as he took the item reverently and nodded. "Quidel will do for Sky God. If Quidel die, Quidel die for Sky God." Kyreg bowed to the man, admiring the mortals bravery. "Angel, Jaci scared. Jaci scared of witches in forest, that way." Kyreg raised an eyebrow and gestured for the man to continue. "One hour march lives witches in hut. Witches not pleasant to Jaci, Jaci fear them." Kyreg nodded. "I will take care of them Shaman Quidel. Go forth now and do the Emperors duty." The Shaman bowed deeply as he would walk away and lead his warriors, holding up the Aquila to shine in the sun light. The golden glint on the Aquila caused his warriors to kneel, and give their blood oaths to fulfil the duty entrusted to them by one of the Emperors angels.
"Witch? Do you think they mean Chaos, Commander?" The Thousand Son Sergeant would ask before Kyreg shrugged. "We have to investigate it regardless, we must see what is there. They are a brave people, worthy of the Emperors light. Therefore we must walk in His shadow and hunt down those who would dare to cover up the Emperors golden rule." The Astartes around him nodded and Kyreg would gesture for squad leaders to reform their squads and advance with him.
Xythos lead the advance, Kyreg pushing his legionnaires forward into the forest while Gungnir covered the right flank while Anpa covered the left flank. Behind them advanced Asgeir, drum magazines loaded into their twin-linked bolters while cameoline cloaks rustled slightly as the armoured giants stalked through the forest towards where the Jaci tribe Shaman had pointed out the structure. Half an hour later, they had arrived, a large clearing where a single structure stood, framed by open ground. There outside of the house could be seen another small hut. Outside of the hut was laundry drying on lines. Kyreg was about to order his strike force forward when Thobor beside him suddenly held his head and almost collapsed, while the Thousand Sons were frozen seemingly in pain, almost unable to move. He quickly ordered Asgeir forward, the dusk blue legionnaires moving to cover the flank left open by the sudden incapacitation of the Astartes. Thobor gasped for air underneath his helmet, barely able to move while the door to the hut opened. Four women walked out. The women were dressed simply, in white robes but they walked with confidence. In their hands were held long curved thin blades and they stood outside motionless, without expressions on their face as Kyreg looked back at them, having stood up when they exited and walked forward alone. The Legionnaires behind him raised their bolters but Kyreg put up a hand, a gesture for them to lower their weapons. He was stunned at what was here, the four women that had been here and called witches. He could feel an inkling of who they were, but the truth is one that could change the entire fight on the planet.
He would clamp his weapon by his side and walked forward to stand a few feet away from the four women who stared at him, the blades held in their hands not wavering even a millimetre. Kyreg drew his blade, the phase sword glinting in the sunlight before he plunged it blade first into the ground in front of him, and went down on one knee.