Title: Angelus Erroneous: Fabricati Diem

Author: Spike

Chapter: Six

I gazed around the battlefield. This had been a tough fought battle. I could still feel the heat from my two bolt pistols from constant usage. All around, there lay the bodies of the enormous Orks.

I could still feel my breaths coming out in short bursts. Perhaps I should be thankful that I'm still alive: This has been the most intense battle I had ever fought on this miserable rock. I had managed to crawl my way to the top of a heap when confronted by Orks who amassed in a huge tide that just kept rumbling on and on, determined to spill blood at any cost.

Like I said, I had never fought a battle like that one before.

Beside's there was no way in hell I would ever let myself lose to a stinking green-skin…….

Just then, I noticed something: All of the Orks bore the insignia seen before: The crude image of a red jawbone crossing the red axe. It appeared as tattoos and as inscriptions on both weapons and armour. It was also just like the same insignia we'd seen on the Orks the day before.

Seems we've wandered into some tribal lands.

Well there's a first.

Before now, I've never really cleared

Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of steel-capped boots crunching their way across the bones of the fallen Orks.

I could feel my blood go cold – It didn't take a Tech-Priest of Mars to know who this could be. I looked up to see Deacon. His clothing was blooded and torn, his heavy stubber was smoking and the weariness of battle was written all across his face.

It seems that he too had certainly felt sheer mayhem that was this battle.

But what I found disturbing was his expression. No emotion was displayed across it and his distinctive glare of hatred was still burned at me.

I gulped. It seems no amount of fighting can really change Deacon at all.

He reached into a pocket and pulled out a cigar. He lit it up and took a puff.

"I see you're still alive" I called.

"Likewise" he growled back, between puffs.

"There certainly were a lot of them – do you reckon we stumbled across an encampment?'

"It's possible"

"What I don't understand was just how big these green-skins were. Compared to what we've encountered before, these ones are enormous!"

This comment did little to inspire a reply from Deacon but I continued regardless:

"Look at this" I said "These Orks are all bearing the same insignia as the lot we encountered yesterday. And they seem much larger and tougher to what we've faced before. Seems we're walking into someone's territory"

"Does that really matter?" Deacon snarled "I though all Orks looked alike to me. And they're all lining up to get plastered. "

Man it sure sucks being the voice of reason sometimes

Regardless I continued: "I sure hope I don't meet bastards like these when I'm on this rock…."

"Really?" Deacon said softly. "I hope we do"

I blinked as the gunner took another puff of his cigar. His glaring eyes locked onto me as he continued:

"I was hoping those Orks would spare me the trouble of putting you out of my misery."

"The irony of fate huh?" I sneered.

Of course, this wasn't the best thing to say: Deacon's mouth immediately morphed into a scowl and he stormed over to confront me. He got to within a foot of me and leaned in close.

I could feel the heat from his cigar burning it's way through the air between us. I could feel his breath billowing out noxious fumes before me. And I could sense his glare making his annoyance for me all too clear.

But never once did I flinch.

"You may have survived this battle" he growled. "But who's to say that you'll survive the rest of this day? And the next day? And the day after that?"

My brow furrowed. I didn't reply because I could easily identify the rage within Deacon. When he's being this talkative, it very much means that his bloodlust is still present.

And he may find an excuse to get in – even if it means within me.

"I'll be watching my back if I were you" he went on.

"Don't I do that enough already?" I retorted.

"Point noted" Deacon growled "but if the Orks don't get you – I will"

And with that he pushed his past me and headed off into the jungle.

I blinked. No doubt he would be heading his way back to camp. And to report to Bishop about the events of this morning.

But then again, why should he bother me? We're all marooned on this Ork-world so what difference would another blood-thirsty psychopath make?

I guess the difference being the psychopath in question happens to a member of your own species.

Just then, I heard another noise.

I looked up to see Laertes making his way towards me. His flamer was smoking. His hands were blackened from the heat, his priestly robes were stained with flame, petrol and blood but he had an enormous smile on his face.

I blinked. Out of the three of us it seems he was hardly concerned with his own survival….

"Still alive are you?" I said.

"Absolutely!" he beamed.

"I gather you sent more heretics to their deaths?"

"Oh absolutely!" he said, the elation radiant in his voice. "The Emperor saw fit to deliver me those greenskins and I purified all their impure souls!

"And the day is only just beginning! Just think, there are more souls on this planet for me to deliver to light!"

"I'm just glad to be alive" I murmured.

"Then the Emperor must have his eye on you and seen you fit to survive this morning's battle" the priest declared.

My eyes narrowed.

"Do you really believe that He is watching us on this miserable rock?"

"Of course!" Laertes said. "The Emperor watches over all his children"

I blinked, recalling the conversation we had earlier that morning. At the moment, his spirits are as high as they will ever be – and as such, he doesn't seem to recall the argument we had……

Therefore, perhaps I should be consider myself fortunate.

Better not push it then….

"Come on" I said. "Let's get back to camp"

He nodded.

"So that's what happened?"

Bishop fixed the three of us with a quizzical eye. I adopted an expression of battle-weariness and hardened eyes – both of which should be enough to convince our de-facto leader.

Deacon however, showed no facial expression at all. But the stench of blood and heavy stubber smoke was perhaps enough evidence the support our testimony of the morning's events.

Naturally, there was nothing in Deacon's facial expression that provided any hint of the conflicts between him and myself. Naturally, Bishop would have no such thing as dissension within his ranks and would most certainly deal with such thing immediately (hey, we're the only humans on this miserable rock after all, so the least we could do was work together).

But as Deacons facial expression suggested nothing else happened in this mornings' battle, Bishop was easily convinced.

I could feel the hatred swelling inside of me. The cunning bastard…..

Laertes, on the other hand, was silent – his maniacal grin and the elation within his eyes said it all.

We had only arrived back at camp a few minutes ago. Already, the dawn had passed and the sun had well and truly appeared from beyond the horizon. The moment we got back, we were immediately cornered by Bishop, wanting to know the results from this morning's Dawn-Watch. As we told him the encounter we had, both Xerxes and Jessie emerged from the encampment, listening attentively.

"You mentioned these Orks seemed tougher than normal" Bishop inquired "How so?"

"They seemed much bigger and muscular" I said. "They seemed able to take a tremendous amount from us in the terms of firepower."

"Yeah?"

"They seemed capable of withstanding numerous shots and still be able to keep on coming"

Suddenly, I heard the sound of running feet: I looked up to see Jessie come hurrying over.

Her eyes were sparkling.

I suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable: If Jessie was like this then that can only mean one thing….

"Stronger Orks?" she beamed "DO go on"

"We seem to have wandered into some region where the Orks seem bigger and more powerful than anything we've faced before" I managed to mumble.

But it was still enough: Jessie's face suddenly burst with enthusiasm and she began looking eagerly to the rest of us.

"So then" she said "When are we hunting them down? Now?"

"Who said we're hunting them down?" Bishop snapped.

Jessie blinked in surprise.

"If we have truly wandered into more dangerous territory" Our Fearless Leader mused "then the longer we remain here at this encampment, the greater danger this position will become"

"That's nonsense!" Deacon snapped suddenly.

Immediately, all eyes turned towards the gunner.

I raise an eyebrow. This was the first time I had ever seen Deacon argue with Our Fearless Leader.

Being the lapdog that he is.

"Come on, what we need to fear from another bunch of green-skins?!" Deacon went on "So what if they seem more powerful than normal, they're only Orks! We've slain many before and we can keep on doing it!"

"I agree entirely!" Jessie chimed in.

"Always taking the more challenging route of a problem I see" Xerxes murmured.

"Damn right I am!" Deacon retorted, the all too familiar unsettling spark of battle-lust already enlightening within his eye.

"I concur!" Laertes added "We should stay here – this is after all, the will of the Emperor that he delivers me more heretics to purify!"

"Are you crazy?!" I yelled. "If we stay here we'll get ourselves killed!"

Bishop's eyes hardened, wondering how long this exchange would catapult into an argument where everyone would be at each others throats.

"If you deny me from the purification of any heretic then you're no better than they are!" the priest argued.

"What's the matter Narc?' Jessie added. "Anyone would think you're chickening out of the prospect of killing more Orks."

"What?"

"I never thought you were one to avoid any combat" she mocked "Particularly when it involved Orks. And I thought you had more balls than that"

Deacon took a step back and lit up another cigar.

He made no move whatsoever to enter this debate any further, particualry when he got the whole thing up and running. Deacon favoured instead to merely to puff away in a manner that wondered when this debate was going to reach a resolution.

One that is inspired without his involvement.

Smug bastard….

"Are you trying to tell us you're a coward Narc?" Laertes growled, his hand reaching out and grabbing by the front of my shirt (Geez, this has happened to me a lot ever since I've been travelling with these people).

"We don't need cowards like you!" the priest continued "Cowards who are too scared to take a stand in the Emperor's name!"

Faced with such words may seem intimidating but I just didn't bat an eyelid

"Of course you are" Laertes snarled. "You turned your back on the Emperor! And that makes you a heretic!"

Suddenly, I could feel myself growing cold – This situation wasn't looking good. Sure it didn't take much to convince Laertes that anyone was a heretic but at the same time, he certainly showed a merciless ferocity to those whom he considered a heretic.

And in that case this would be me…..

I could feel my hand reaching towards one of bolt-pistols…..

When suddenly a cool commanding voice cut in:

"All right that's quite enough."

Bishop strolled over a stern gaze across his face.

"Leave him alone, both of you"

Well, he sure took his time getting involved.

Jessie blinked, her face a mixture of reluctance and annoyance. But in spite of it all, she recognised Bishop's authority and moved away from me.

Laertes however, being merely seconds from being overcome with one of his explosions of violent fanaticism, didn't make any such move whatsoever.

"Father?" Bishop snapped

Instead of making the desired move, the priest glared back at Bishop.

"You dare stand in my way?"

"And what if I do?"

"No shall dare!" the priest roared. "The Emperor is on my side!"

"So let's see your Emperor deals with this!" And with that he grabbed the priest with that bionic arm of his. And with a burst of well-used mechanics, Bishop threw Laertes aside, sending the priest flat upon his back.

Bishop sure loved to send Laertes off the enemy but is only now that he'd begun to realise that there were times when he seemed beyond our control

"Now do shut up will you?" Our Fearless Leader snapped.

But if he thought that would break Laertes from his fanaticism, Bishop was wrong.

Flat on his back, the priest managed to prop himself up into a seating position.

"I won't!" Laertes yelled "if you challenge my judgement than that must make you a heretic as well!"

With a growl of frustration, Bishop strode over, lent forward and grabbed the priest by the collar of his robe. This was soon followed with a right hook delivered straight from Bishop's bionic arm.

And for the first time that morning, Laertes fell silent. His form crumbled to the ground silently.

"That's a bit rough" I muttered.

"Don't worry" Bishop replied "He was just having one of his moods. When he wakes up, he'll forget that this incident ever happened."

(Such a thing has happened before)

"Now where were we?" our leader then said "Ah yes, we were debating whether not we were staying here and avoiding these supposed super powered Orks.

"As the private so graciously pointed out"

"We should leave!" I said quickly.

"Forget it!" Jessie snapped "We should stay here!"

Bishop sighed, his hand moving up to hold his forehead.

"Well looks like we'll be settling this the old-fashioned way" he murmured "Via a democratic method"

The rest of us blinked. We all knew about this – it was Bishop's final way of settling disputes. When shouting at us, breaking our bones and just generally being a tyrannical bastard didn't work, he would fall back to democracy.

Of courses no sane person would ever consider using such an initiative in amongst a group of desperadoes like ourselves but Bishop could get away with it simply because he was our leader and we all needed his intellect and guidance.

And all for good reason too.

And besides, when you're with the only humans on this planet, the least you could do was look out for one another.

"All right then" Bishop said. "We have two choices here: Either we stay or we leave"

He looked at each of us in turn – all except Laertes, whom was still out for the count, and Deacon. The gunner didn't seem in any way interested and he continued puffing on his cigar. As such, Bishop didn't pay him any attention – this wasn't unusual behaviour: whilst Deacon was the only one would listen to our esteemed leader for orders, Bishop didn't seem to argue with the gunner on anything.

It makes me wonder what degree of interaction these have with each other……

"So who votes we leave?" Bishop asked.

Both his hand and my hand shot.

"Very well then" Bishop said. "Who votes we stay?"

Only Jessie's hand was raised.

"You're out-voted" our esteemed leader resolved.

"That's bullshit!" Jessie snapped.

"Really?" Bishop said, rasing an eyebrow.

I began to feel uneasy. In all honesty, Bishop may be no more of a desperado than the rest of us but he is our commander and certainly not the type to argue with.

Doing so usually meant a fist to face.

Strangely enough, I've never seen him to it to anyone else…..

"I do recall that Laertes has yet to make a vote" Jessie challenged "And he seemed rather keen on staying here"

Bishop sighed.

"Okay, I'll take Laertes' vote" he said, his voice both one of annoyance and one willing to play along, "But you do realise that this places this decision within a deadlock"

This is strange: Bishop normally flattens someone for arguing with his commands….

I guess he's currently in a position where he can't get away with such a thing.

And his influence as leader must be weakening….

"What about Xerxes?" Jessie inquired "He hasn't made any say in this"

Immediately all eyes fell on the former Rogue Trader.

He blinked, his facial expression betraying his unease.

"Silent are you?" Bishop said.

Xerxes smiled – but it did nothing to conceal his awkwardness within this situation.

"We need your input on this one" Our Fearless Leader said "Your decision could ultimately decide what we do next."

The former Rogue Trader still hesitated.

"So then" Bishop asked "What it'll be? Do we stay here? Or do we leave?"

Xerxes clearly didn't seem very comfortable with three pairs of eyes glaring at him – particularly when one of those pairs belonged to a female of homicidal intent.

Eventually, he cleared his throat.

"I'm going with Bishop and Narc" he said firmly.