' We thank you, the People of Lexmar, for this great honour you do to us. '
Uron Malefictus, Chapter Master of the Knights Vermillion, bowed to the human. Even upon bended knee's he was as a giant to a child in comparison to the newly instated governor. The human, decked in his purple sash held a chalice clutched within his hands, a broad, if forced, smile upon his face. The pacification of the rebel forces had been swift and brutal and although the Astartes had reduced most of the capitol city to rubble, the ruling parties were grateful. They had offered to erect monuments or bedeck the Marines armour in precious jewels, but all had been refused except one thing. The offer of Blood.
Each civilian, each citizen of the world left alive donated a vial of blood, finding whatever serf or servant of the noble Astartes.
The procession of warriors had stopped on the parade ground before the palace, the huge Thunderhawk gunships awaiting to carry them back to the Dominator which waited in orbit. The huge form of Brother Tyrus had proceeded to clamber into the first of the gunboats, clamping his huge armoured form into his magnetic throne. The techmarine and the Dreadnoughts personal entourage secured themselves in around him, awaiting the command squad to mount up.
Uron, the Red Death lifted his clawed gauntlets to his head, popping the seals upon the black death mask upon his helmet. The mouth grille was a screaming mouth, needle sharp teeth glinting in gold. The eyes ghosted a red glare from within them and covering the lower half of the mask was a port cullis armoured plate. There was a puff of condensation and he lifted the helm clear of his features.
The human swallowed down the slab of fear in his throat and something primal whispered into the back of his mind, that the last thing he should do, is run.
The Chapter Master resembled the devil. His skin was like parchment, his hair had long ago deserted his skull. The colour of his eyes were like staring into hell itself, swirling pits of every shade of red and blood. He parted the thin lines of his lips to reveal every single tooth, each one had been filed into sharp fangs. There were thick black words tattooed upon his skin, scrolling litanies which disappeared down beneath the collar of his gorget.
He lifted his hands forward and received the chalice from the governor.
' To the Emperor and His people. '
His voice was like the earth splitting, a rumble of thunder in the heavens or to some, the snarl of daemons. He offered a smile which made the human shudder, then tipped the cold rim of the chalice to his lips and swallowed down the hot, sticky blood. After a long moment he handed the chalice back and whispered a small prayer of thanks, then rose. The bulk of his jump pack should have hindered the deft movement but after centuries, Uron had even made such a movement graceful.
He fixed his helm back in place and turned his shoulder to the human, his vox unit rasping into life.
++ Should you ever require our assistance again, you know the price. ++
Uron turned into his awaiting command Astartes and marched into the gunship in silence.
The Knights Vermillion gunships roared into the stratosphere and out into the horizon of blackness and void.
The rumble of the engines punished each warriors hearing, until Chaplain Grakar decided to break the sound.
++ M'lord. I implore you to atomise the city from orbit. ++
There was a burst of noise from the rest of the Marines in the lead gunship, some crying out in opposition, some declaring their support. Brother Tyrus forced a burst of static through the vox link, demanding silence while he spoke. The dreadnoughts heavy voice boomed in the confined space of the gunship.
++ Folly, I say. Master Grakar you are short minded and still young. You are too full of fire and fury to realise the scale of what it is we crusade for. ++
Uron turned his head.
++ Why, Brother Grakar, would you have me destroy those who we have just liberated? ++
The Chaplain ignored the Veteran Brother and addressed his Master.
++ Heresy took root, deep into the population. I feel it will strike again, and soon. We must crush any trace of it from the surface of the planet. Starting with the city. ++
Tyrus reared up in his harness, the groan of steel screeching in the troop hold.
++ Starting with the city? You have truly lost yourself in madness Grakar! You mean to bathe the Lexmarians in fire because of one rebellion? ++
++ ENOUGH. ++
The voice destroyed any rebuke upon the Marines lips.
Uron turned to look between the command squad and a rumbling snarl hissed from his vox grille.
++ I understand what Grakar is asking, but I will not condone such destruction unless absolutely necessary. This fortress will dock at the Gandhra Station to re-arm and re-fuel. We shall pass back this way and I will establish a link with the surface. If I discover that even a morsel of heresy has taken route once more, I shall ruin the planet of all life. Now speak no more of this. In fact, as it is, you will all pray in silence until we are docked. Begin. ++
Each Brother held their words and turned inwards into their minds to recite various different prayers or mantra's.
The Chaplain curled his lip behind his visor as he gazed upon the Chapter Master. It appeared the Knights core was becoming soft. Such a pity.