Title: Angelus Erroneous: Fabricati Diem

Author: Spike

Chapter: Five

Moving with the stealthiest of movements, I crept through the jungle. My skills I had picked up during my time as an Imperial Guardsman had not diminished and certainly got plenty of use ever since Dawn-Watch started.

My hands still gripped my trusty bolt-pistols but I could feel my ever-ready trigger finger twitch.

Obviously it was keen for some action.

Only problem with that idea was that this was a patrol mission…..

With each step I could hear the leaves of the forest floor crunch beneath my feet….

I could hear the soft whine of some insect.

I could sense a soft breeze drift through the greenery….

My finger continued to twitch….

My eyes darted left and right, trying to find something to report back to Bishop.

My feet ground to a halt.

My finger continued to twitch….

Before me, upon a leaf, crawled a tiny beetle.

My ears struggle to pick up the sound of an interloper to this scene….

My finger continued to twitch….

Suddenly, I could feel my blood run cold.

I had the feeling I was being watched.

Immediately, all alarm bells went off in my mind. I had the feeling I was being watched yet but not by an Ork. An Ork would rip my head off without a second's hesitation.

No, what I was felling was the sense of another.

Someone who wasn't a green-skin. .

What was that?

I spun around in a flash, my ears having picked up the sound of a leaf being brushed behind me.

And what happened next happened quickly.

I could see something. Something small that moved in the blink of an eye. It suddenly appeared and, in the blink of an eye, nothing was there.

I blinked in disbelief, my brain trying to register what it was I just saw.

Eventually it came to me: it was metallic, and it blazed with an uneasy red.

My head started spinning. What the hell was that? That wasn't anything of any Orkish origin nor did it seem like anything the savage Orks of this miserable rock could muster.

I tried to dismiss it as a trick of the mind but my sense of reason refused to accept it.

Then an uneasy thought came to mind, something that bore into my mind and refused to leave.

We guerrillas may be watching the Orks but is someone watching us?

Suddenly my train of thought was interrupted by something new.

It was the sound of feet approaching.

The feet that were running.

Running in steps the suggested huge feet supporting a large weight.

Immediately, all thoughts of seeing metallic objects vanished and my grip on my bolt pistols grew tighter.

My finger continued to twitch….

I then grew apprehensive. Who was this approaching? Could it be one of my allies or one of the Orcs?

Or a clue to that metallic thing I just saw?

My senses alerted me to sone particular about the sound of the approaching feet.

They were heading this way.

My finger continued to twitch….

I aimed one of my bolt pistols in the direction that the feet were coming form.

My gaze burned down the barrel of the pistol to the fernery

My finger continued to twitch….

When suddenly I balked: The tension had been building up inside of me suddenly exploded and provoked me into movement. So I dived out of the way and into the undergrowth.

Once under the cover of the greenery, I cursed under my breath. This wasn't normal.

Nevertheless, under this cover I should see who it is approaching and how to deal with them.

Seconds later, my suspicions were confirmed: A massive Ork burst out from the undergrowth.

This Ork was just like every other greenskin on this miserable rock: He had the distinctive bucket-shaped jaw, beady red eyes, bare chest sporting a range of scars, crude-made trousers, bare scalp, and a brutal selection of weaponry in a boltgun and an axe. And much like the green-skins we'd encountered the day before, he boasted the crude insignia of a red axe crossed with a jawbone – only this time it was tattooed across his chest.

And just like every other Ork here, he was just as ugly.

The Ork's pace ground to a halt ad he paused. He then began sniffing the air and emitted a soft growl.

I blinked. What was this one doing here? And all by himself?

No matter – if he can smell me out then that scumsuckin' greenskin should be dealt with just like other of his ilk.

I gripped my bolt pistol tightly and slowly raised my arm. Without making any sound at all, I aimed the barrel out from my concealed position.

I was about to pull the trigger….

….when I felt something metal being pressed against my head.

My blood went cold. The metal in question felt like the distinctive rim of the barrel of a heavy stubber.

This was soon followed by the stench of burning tobacco and a gravely voice which I didn't really want to hear.

"Nice try there, small fry"

I smiled – one which Deacon couldn't see.

"Good trick there - diverting my attention by manipulating that lunatic priest" he went on "But that doesn't really do a lot for you!"

"Where is Laertes?" I replied.

"I managed to escape him" Deacon growled.

My ears detected the sound of the gunner puffing on his cigar. He then continued:

"But don't think you're going to escape me blowing your brains out. As far as I know, you're selling us out to the Orks."

I did consider snapping back a ferocious retort and protest my innocence but, considering I was still aiming my bolt-pistol at the Ork and was being held in check by a psychopath, that didn't really seem like a bright idea.

Deacon then must've noticed the Ork standing outside in the open for he then inquired: "So who's your friend?"

"Some stinking greenskin whom I'm going to the favour of putting him out of his misery" I growled back. "Look at him, he's begging for it"

Deacon replied with a soft chuckle.

"Threatening to kill the prick you sold us out to?" he sneered. "A cunning bluff there"

My gaze kept on the Ork – by now, he was sniffing the air in absolute suspicion. Judging by his facial expression, he had sensed the stench of humans had grown stronger – largely due to the fact that Deacon has just shown up – and the Ork wasn't liking this at all. By now, his teeth were bared and he started growling in a bestial manner.

Miraculously however, the Ork did not seem aware of the hiding place where myself and Deacon were concealed.

Yet.

But considering that I was caught between two homicidal lunatics, this situation wasn't looking out to be so crash-hot for me.

In desperation, I shot back at Deacon.

"Are you crazy?! There's an Ork out there. If he finds us before I nail him then he are finished!"

"Well then" Deacon sneered. "Perhaps you should get rid of him. Then I can have the pleasure of getting rid of you all to myself"

Normally, Deacon was the most silent out of the six of us – but that was only when we're not in combat. Needless to say, this situation was perhaps the most talkative he had ever been since we met. It was likely that he had fallen to the prospect of bloodlust and was all too willing to surrender to it.

And that's certainly reason enough to be worried.

"Dammit man!" I retorted. "Can you get it through your thick head?! I'm not in league with the fucking Orks! I would rather die than do such a thing!"

"Really?" Deacon replied. "Then that suits me fine!"

Frustrated, I tried to change his mindset: "When you snuck up behind me, did you see something unusual?"

"What?"

"I saw something strange before" I said "Something that didn't look Orkish at all"

"The only thing I see strange is that you're still alive even when I have you at close range!" Deacon snapped

"It looked metallic and it moved quickly…"

"Don't try and change the subject small fry!"

I groaned – this was just getting better and better. It seems there was no way I could get out of here alive.

But suddenly, something happened that changed everything.

From out of nowhere, came a ferocious burst of flame. It came screaming out from the undergrowth, incinerating all the undergrowth in it's path, turning what was green into ash and cinder.

Deacon must've been completely surprised by this move for I felt the rim of the heavy stubber's barrel lift away from the back of my skull. Now free from certain death, I daringly cast a gaze back over my shoulder.

The gunner didn't seem to notice me at all. Instead, he was glaring at the priest, a snarl on his face, thus betraying his disgust.

Laertes meanwhile, stormed over, his face lined with an expression that had enough enraged fury that a Greater Daemon of Khorne would admire.

The priest strode up to Deacon and thrust his face right up close to the gunner.

I blinked with the sudden dread that someone, who was aware that their planet was about to face the Exterminatus, would feel.

After a brief pause, words began grinding their way from Laertes' throat:

"I don't recall saying I was finished telling you about the dangers of the sin within the Emperor's gaze"

If Deacon was intimidated he certainly didn't show it.

"You think I care?" he growled.

Just then Deacon sensed something metal being rammed up hard against his chin – something that burned of petrol and flame and resembled a flamer.

"You should you know" Laertes snarled back.

I offered myself a small smile of relief. Sure there Laertes' fanaticism created more than difficulties then what was necessary but it sure had its benefits.

And you had to hand it to the man – when he's convinced the Emperor is with him, he has absolutely nothing to fear. This makes him the only one who would dare stand up to a psychopath like Deacon.

"You certainly have a lot of balls about you" the gunner sneered.

"All in a days' work of hunting down the heretics that profane His name" the priest retorted.

I allowed my body to washed away in a hurricane of relief. With Laertes occupying the gunner's mind, it should draw Deacon's train of thought away from me. This would then give me the time and space to do something about this meddlesome Ork…..

The Ork?!

I quickly darted my gaze back to the where I last saw the greenskin.

He was still there.

Obviously he hadn't been expecting to see any of the hated humans on this planet so he stood there, in what could be describe as a state of disbelief.

I blinked before leaping out of my hiding place.

Immediately I forget all about getting one over Deacon. I also forgot all about Laertes and the sounds of him rattling on and on about the dangers of sin. Instead, I grew wary of why we were sent out here in the first place:

To make sure no Orks find out about us at all.

And as far as I was concerned, there was one standing right in front of us whom was just begging to have his brains blown out.

With both bolt pistols in each hand, I slowly advanced on the greenskin.

The greenskin didn't move – instead he blinked. Seems he was more in a state of shock at this rather unexpected discovery on this planet

I gripped my pistol and gazed down the barrel at the unlucky bastard.

Unlucky?! No, scratch that – He is an Ork after all.

Suddenly it happened.

He began bellowing. A huge bestial roar burst from his throat and rang out across the jungle, sending everything shaking.

"You sure are a noisy bastard you know that" I snarled from gritted teeth.

So, I did what anyone would do in that type of situation: I pulled the trigger and sent shells of hot lead in his direction.

The Ork took them full on the face. He then went flying over backwards as the shells penetrated their way into his brain.

To give him the message that he was dead.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Mission successful.

But then I was struck by an alarming thought.

That roar he issued was fairly loud – perhaps it was likely that other Orks could hear it….

I looked up – to see Deacon and Laertes come storming over.

"Nice going bozo" the gunner growled. "You should've shot him when you had the chance!"

"So?" I retorted.

Deacon growled and grabbed me by my collar.

"That scream of his could've been heard for miles! Now every Ork on this planet will come looking for him!"

"Why would you care?" I snapped back "After all, it's more killing for you!"

"Really?" the gunner snapped back. "I would rather see you dead than face a whole horde of Orks rampaging after us!"

The feeling's mutual I thought.

Suddenly the jungle was rocked with an explosion of noise – it was a ferocious roar that brought all noise to stand still. It was the type of noise that a very large and angry Ork would make….

The three of us blinked at each other in bewilderment.

"What…what in the name of all that is holy was that?" Laertes inquired.

"It's proof" Deacon growled, his eyes glaring at me "Proof enough that this moron has now brought each and every Ork down upon us!"

Upon hearing this, I then felt a cold shiver flow down my spine.

This situation keeps getting better and better – not only am I trapped with a lunatic who wants me dead but now I now face the rather unpleasant prospect of being torn apart by a horde of approaching Orks.

Just simply wonderful…..

Indeed, now would be a good time to locate some allies……….

"Wait" the priest interjected "The Orks are heading this way?"

"That's right" I replied, thinking quickly. "That means lot's of heretics for you to purify!"

At the mention of this, the priest's eyes blazed with eager fervour. He then reached for his flamer and gripped it with the passion that was both sick and affectionate.

"Then let them come" the priest growled. "And I shall bring them the absolution of the Emperor's light!"

Deacon blinked – but he didn't notice the small smirk that made its way across my face.

Just then, another roar bellowed it's way across the jungle – sending the ground quavering and several leaves drifting from the trees.

I gripped my twin bolt pistols tightly, Deacon readied his heavy stubber and Laertes' eyes began blazing in fanatical passion.

"Seems like your friends are well on their way" Deacon growled in my direction.

"No – there's just a lot of Orks" I retorted back.

Deacon opened his mouth to speak – but was beaten by Leartes.

"Gentlemen" the priest declared "We are standing on the threshold of a glorious battle. The Emperor has seen fit that we be at this spot to bring down all the heretics that profane His name!"

I blinked as Laertes continued:

"If we can kill all those that challenge us, the Emperor will can us sanctuary so we will live forever alongside the Golden Throne itself!"

"How is that possible?" I inquired. "I doubt the Adeptus Custodians would appreciate our presence in that throne room…"

"Don't you understand infidel?!" the priest snarled "This moment is our hour! We have a horde of heretics being delivered to us so we can butcher them all! This is destiny!"

"No, I see a horde of Orks wanting to kill us" Deacon growled.

Laertes' eyes blazed with fire at the gunner's retort.

"Heathen!" he bellowed "You dare question the Emperor's will?!"

"And what if I do?" Deacon snapped.

"Then that make you better than the heretics that infest this galaxy!" Laertes fumed, as he stormed over to confront the gunner, stopping mere inches away from him. "And the Emperor commands that all heretics should be purified!"

"And what if I don't want to?" Deacon growled, leaning forward so his face was within inches of the priest's.

"Well it means good news for me" Laertes grinned. "Because it is real pleasure to send all heretics to their deaths.

"Trust me" he added, running his hand up and down his flamer in a loving fashion. "This won't hurt a bit. You'll thank me later when I see you with the Emperor."

This exchange brought Deacon and Laertes on a rapid descent into arguing. But I paid no attention – I was more concerned with what was heading this way.

If there was a horde of very angry Orks heading this way then th leats I could do was put them out of my misery.

So, I glared at the jungle, my eyes expecting to see this horde burst out, waving weapons and screaming like their lives depended on it.

I grit my teeth as my finger began twitching over the trigger.

Come on, I know you're in there somewhere…..

I could feel perspiration break out across my forehead, and my trigger finger growing increasingly uneasy.

And Laertes still continued to lecture Deacon….

Finally it happened:

I snapped.

With a roar of frustration, I opened fire onto the nearest tree. Three shots burst from the barrel of my bolt pistol only to scream across the air and bury themselves into the cold surface of the trunk.

My blinked through the smoke as it drifted out from the barrel.

In front of me, there were three black holes embedded in tree trunk. All sent the unmistakable stench of hot lead into the air.

But nothing moved.

I flicked my gaze back at Laertes and Deacon. Already Deacon had his eye on me – possibly he been attracted by me firing off my bolt pistol.

"What's up with him?" I managed to hear him say. He then shoved Laertes aside and started making his way over to me.

My gaze returned to the boulder.

I fired another shot…..

But it was there and then that I saw it:

There, out of the corner of my eye and lurking discreetly within the trees was a bald head consisting of green flesh and a pair of beady red eyes.

I grinned evilly.

"There you are" I said. "I've been looking all over for you"

Suddenly, without warning, the Ork bolted. He immediately turned tail and ran!

I blinked – this was odd. Why would he run off like that? Normally any Ork would come charging forward at the sight of an enemy.

But chances are he wasn't expecting to see anyone else on this planet.

Well, anyone that's not a greenskin at least.

"BASTARD!" I yelled.

"Hey, what's going on?" came a shout.

I looked back over my shoulder to see Deacon hurrying over. Laertes followed close behind, still rattling on about the evils that plague the Emperor's universe and why His loyal subjects should maintain a mind that is steadfast against such temptations.

"Greenskin!" I shouted, gesturing towards the intruding Ork, as he plunged deeper into the edge of the forest.

"I see him" Deacon growled, as he skidded to a stop.

He then unslung his heavy stubber and slammed a fresh cartridge of ammunition into it.

"Prepare to die greenskin" he growled.

But before he could open fire with that lethal weapon, the retreating Ork began bellowing out a bestial roar, screaming in the general of the direction of the forest that lay at the bottom of the slope.

And suddenly, in reply of the Ork's roar, the forest suddenly erupted. Immediately, a whole group of Orks suddenly burst from the trees, all waving their axe-like weapons in a wild fashion and firing random shells from their equally ill-manufactured weapons.

I cast a gaze at the other two.

"We've been discovered!" I shouted.

Deacon merely grinned an evil grin.

"Well, looks like we have some sport this morning" he said. "There's a first"

"What are you talking about?" I shot back.

"Well I don't know about you" he replied, gripping his heavy stubber tightly in anticipation "But I'm not going to stand around yakking whilst there are some greenskins charging towards me."

And with that, he strode down the slope, his heavy stubber gripped eagerly in his hand.

Laertes and myself exchanged glances. Then I smiled in sick satisfaction. Who am I to pass up the opportunity to kill some more Orks?

"Well Laertes" I grinned, as I drew forth my other bolt pistol. "Looks like a whole bunch of heretics have come your way. Guess you'll gladly bring them to the Emperor's purifying flame of absolution?"

At the mention of this, the priest' eyes sparkled. Immediately forgetting about our argument mere minutes ago, he reached behind his back to grasp his trusty flamer. He then connected the flamer's fuel cable to a canister that was attached to his belt.

"Prepare to receive the Emperor's mercy, heretics!" he growled under his breath.

And then, whispering some prayer of battle from ancient text, he engaged his flamer.

Immediately a burst of flame burst out from the nozzle, enlightening the jungle. The charging Orks were immediately incinerated in a blast of red and orange.

When the smoke cleared, it produced a selection of mixed results: The flames had managed to down some of the Orks whilst others had been set ablaze – thus prompting them to run around and screaming in alarm. But there still Orks that thundered towards us, murderous intent blazing in their eyes.

All in all, the flames were enough to hinder the charge but it didn't do much to halt the charge completely.

Deacon turned to me, hatred blazing in his eye.

"Watch my back" he growled. "I'm going to fry all of them!"

And to prove his point, he open fire onto the charging Orks. The Heavy stubber sprayed hot lead in the general direction the greenskins were running into.

I blinked before gripping my two bolt pistols and opening fire.

These Orks seemed rather bigger than usual: they were large, even by the standards we've encountered so far on this miserable rock. Compared the other Orks on this planet this mob had even larger muscles than before, their teeth were enormous tusks and they seemed much uglier.

"All right then" Deacon bellowed over the roar of his heavy stubber. "Who's wants to die first?!"

The nearest Ork immediately replied with a ferocious snarl – whether or not he understood the challenge is anyone's guess. But, judging by the way he heaved his weapon above his head and the way he charged forward, indicated that he was only to happy to spill some blood of the hated humans.

But it didn't seem to bother Deacon too much: Instead, he merely grinned and continued firing with his stubber.

As such, the Ork was riddled with red-hot shrapnel. His forearm was severed free in a matter of seconds, his chest was blown apart in a haze of red blood and his mouth was ripped open along with his throat that, where it had once roared forth a challenge had not become a scream of pain.

His fellow greenskins that stood beside him didn't fare better: Faced with so much firepower coming from Deacon, they wouldn't have stood much of a chance. Like the first one, they were hit with so much firepower that they were brought off their feet and sent crashing down onto the jungle floor.

Or at least that's what they should've been doing.

Normally, they would've fallen to the firepower from both Deacon's heavy stubber and my twin bolt pistols. But that wasn't the case here.

No, being of a much larger size, they were certainly capable of taking a tremendous amount of pounding. Shooting at them was one thing but making sure they stay down was another. No, these Orks just kept advancing under the hail of fire that these two desperadoes issued.

This made me feel somewhat uneasy. These Orks just didn't want to slow down – they just coming: For everyone I downed, another two emerged to take his place. Some of them actually seemed hardly bothered by the sight of being faced by three desperados with better weaponry. They still advanced, crude axes and bludgeons at the ready and enormous muscles bursting all over.

I grit my teeth. One bolt shell got one Ork right between the eyes, another shell downed a second with a shower of blood, another shell brought a third toppling down as his bestial battle cry died down to a whimper.

Several feet away, Deacon was firing his heavy stubber like there was no tomorrow. Each round of ammunition was being slammed into the stubber and fired out in incredible bursts. The air was split with the stubber's distinctive smoke and loud roar.

But the noise of the heavy weapon was joined by the cackling of Deacon, his battle-lust as strong as it ever will be.

The shells of the heavy stubber was having more luck at downing these Orks then I was. A huge spray of bullets carpeted the forest floor, striking the Orks in every position available: the head, the arm, the chest and the legs. The heavy stubber was doing enough to keep the tide at bay but not enough to halt it.

Laertes, on the other hand, wasn't standing with the myself and Deacon. He preferred to attack the horde not at an arm's length but directly. He gripped his flamer with ferocious passion and let loose bursts after bursts of flame. His eyes blazed with the unmistakable fanaticism.

"There's a lot of them!" I shouted.

"The more the merrier" Deacon snarled back.

"There's too many of them! And nothing seems to be keeping them back!"

"You don't fight battles with words small fry!" Deacon roared back.

Even as I shouted these words at the gunner, I could still feel my two trigger fingers issuing round after round of deadly ammunition into the Orks. My eyes never lost sight of them all this time – I could still feel their red eyes glaring at me with utter hatred, the sweat from their green-skin and the distinctive Orkish instincts that preached hatred of all humans.

I grit my teeth, perspiration dripping from my forehead.

"YOU'RE NOT GONNA TAKE ME, YOU FILTHY PIECES OF PIGSHIT!!!!" I bellowed.