2.
The world of Dargas Prime was a desert world with temperatures that during the day soared into the hundreds of degrees making it extremely hot and uncomfortable to be around. At night the temperatures plummeted to temperatures so cold that it could freeze the brass nuts off a monkey.
With a history that dated back to old Night Dargas Prime had been a paradise world, discovered by the Imperial Fists they had encountered minimal resistance to make the world compliant which pleased the sons of Dorn greatly. Sometimes it was nice to have a peaceful arrival. They made the world accessible to the Imperium The Emperors Champion pleased with the natural formations of the mountains that would make good defence bastions if it were needed when it came to fighting the Xenos scum that continuingly threatened the worlds of man.
So that is exactly what they did. The Bastion of Haganash was said to be one of the greatest designs of engineering in the sector. Its natural setting making it perfect in attack and defence.
Somewhere along the way with the Mechanicum exploiting the natural resources of the world and chugging masses of polluted toxins into the air, the world of Dagas Prime began to change.
As if to compound its misery its inhabitants were attacked by demons of the warp and had it not been for the timely intervention of the Grey Knights then the world would have been lost.
The eco-system had been turned on its head and by now all paradise had become a vast desert but the Mechanicum had insisted that a presence remained on the world to protect them while they continued their work although what that work was could be anybodies guess. Everyone knew that the Mechanicum had their secrets guarded jealously by warriors that would not desert them.
As it was the populace were no longer there, they had either died in the wars that had plagued their world or evacuated it. Now the Imperial Guard had a posting there to protect the bastion from whatever else might be waiting in the wings.
Sergeant Peter Holt of the 125th Yorkana Rifles exhaled heavily and pulled his gloves on. It was night and the temperatures were dropping steadily in another couple of hours he'd be heading in for coffee then would continue his duty from the watch tower, at least it would be warmer there.
He was in his mid forties and a veteran of numerous battlefields with many enemies of the Throne and he had a few medals and citations to give him credit but now he was stuck in this Emperor forsaken sand bowl guarding Emperor knew what,
He didn't know who would want to attack a worthless piece of junk like this place was. He lit a thin cigar and inhaled deeply.
Taking his cap off he ran a hand through his shaved greying black hair and glanced up at the sky. It was a clear night so that meant it was going to be cold but if he looked hard enough he thought he might be able to pinpoint where his home world was, not that he had been there for three decades.
Part of him prayed that he would meet his death on a world with ale, women, seas of pure blue and a pollutant free atmosphere but the way guardsmans luck ran he doubted it would be anywhere so perfect.
"Sarge" He turned at the voice and smiled a little as corporal Tillia Sagnet handed him a steaming cup of coffee.
She was beautiful even in this harsh environment that stripped away a mans soul bit by bit and possibly their appreciation of a good-looking woman. Her build was lean and athletic, she had good eyesight and was one of the best scouts his unit had.
He gratefully sipped the liquid nodding his thanks. "This will warm the cockles lass" He happily sighed.
Tillia moved her auburn hair from her eyes and glanced at the looming tower that jutted centrepiece of their citadel. It was there that the Mechanicum made their place and woe betide anyone who went in with their express permission.
"What do you suppose is so damn important to them sarge that we have to stay on this sand bowl?"
He turned to look at the tower himself and shook his head "Don't know corporal but whatever it is its big enough for them to have all of us here, ten titans and twenty war hounds not to mention ten complete regiments of Imperial Guard us, the Camadern 27th and 28th Desert riders, Mendos 11th armoured brigade, Tarsa 115th armoured war dogs and 97th infantry; Ryman 23rd, 26th and 29th armoured cavalry and Zendarian 50th regiment of foot." He shrugged "they run this place and everyone bows to them even though they treat us less then better then rats in a cage. Carry on with your duties girl, lets not be found wanting"
"Sure Sarge"
He watched her move away, appreciating the sway of her hips as she went then returned to drinking his coffee. Nope nothing exciting happened here and he was hoping that they would all be able to finish their rotation and get off this rock. What he wouldn't give to be fighting a heretic army or even Orcs right now was unbelievable.
Brother Ferron had been at prayer for over thirty hours and he was still contend to pray to the gods, pray to his Primarch and read the holy words of his Primarch.
He had been a faithful servant of Lorgar for a thousand years and was one of the assault squad but lately he had been plagued by visions.
Or at least he thought they were visions perhaps more to the point dreams. Now as he knelt in his cell he tried to calm his soul the way that he had been taught unaware that he was being watched.
In his minds eye he saw a world that had once been of beauty but was now a world of shifting golden sand. There was a battle a great powerful demon with the power to destroy armies scouring the lands and laying waste to all it saw.
Its warriors tore the bones from the humans like they were nothing; victory was in its grasp but then came the warriors in grey.
Their losses were great and still they moved in perfect unison disciplined in their execution. The demon soared above them like a great dragon of old; the power in its mighty talons never ceasing to do what it had been born to do.
It was a beautiful creature of gold and silver, its stare shattered souls rendering man and Astartes alike mindless.
He began to stagger a little and tremble as the intensity of the vision seared into his mind refusing to let go its hold. He felt two hands hold him, keeping him steady as the vision played out.
The Grey Knights, the purely psyker warriors of the Astartes unleashed their psionic power and tore away the demons power sending him spiralling to the ground in pain, agony and defiance on his lips.
He fell so deep that the Grey Knights believed he was gone and the land was saved. Brother Ferron shook like he was in the throws of a palsy and found himself lain to the floor.
"Alcatran" he moaned, "Alcatran is waiting"
Mar Felan stayed with the brother until his fit had passed murmuring words of peace over him to calm his soul then sat back on his haunches. He knew the name; there was not a Dark Apostle that did not know the name of Alcatran, Prince of Power.
He rested a hand on Ferrons shoulder when the warrior was recovered he would talk to him, He had stopped by because he had heard of Ferrons devotional prayers and now he realised that he may just have found his Dark Acolyte.
Alcatran was a demon of great power, one of the favoured of chaos undivided and a known ally of the Word Bearers but he had a habit of doing things that seemed a little off base and unpredictable to the point of occasional restlessness.
He had access to weapons and technology long lost, older even then the Necrons. He supposed that the Grey Knights had thought they had merely banished him and not gone looking for him but they would.
They would free the Prince of Power and they would fight alongside him when he tore the heart from the Imperium. As he glanced down at the recovering brother he saw the tell tale signs of a chosen man. The aura changed from a steady blue to a vibrant red and gold.
Mar Felan knew now he had his apprentice and he had a mission to take his men on, with the knowledge the demon possessed then no army in the Imperium would stand against them and maybe they would be the ones to over throw the rotting carcass of the Emperor and not Abaddon the Despoiler.
Rar Kane stood proudly before his master; the greatest assault warrior in the host had been summoned before the Dark Apostle and told that he would have to relinquish his command over Brother Ferron. When he had enquired why and if the lad had done anything wrong that warranted punishment the Dark Apostle had put him straight. Gar Ferron was to be the new Dark Acolyte.
Kane was proud indeed, no warrior of his coterie had ever shown such aptitude and it pleased him greatly that a lad he had taken and moulded from a newborn brother to warrior of blessed fortune sat well with him.
He stood before the Masters apprentice appraising him with his stern gaze. "Do my teachings well and learn from the master, your destiny lays in his hand now – my lord"
That took the young apprentice back a little and he stood straighter in the facer of his former commander.
"I will never forget what you have taught me sir"
"My name is Rar Kane and you no loner call me sir or lord, it is I who will call you that," Rar Kane bowed his head and turned to the Dark Apostle "May I have a warrior to replace him?"
"Of course. I believe that the scout sergeant has overseen new novitiates into full Astartes take your choice from there"
Rar Kane bowed his head to both men and left the Dark Apostle with his charge. He bade him to sit down and perched against his desk.
"You will do everything I tell you, your every waking hour when not in battle will be dedicated to learning the Book of Lorgar until every word of it burns in your mind and is not removed. You will learn our history until you can quote it back to me. Then when you have done that I will set you new things to learn. If I tell you to not attempt something it is not because I doubt you it is because I think you are not ready.
I demand your complete attention and do not be too eager to run before you can walk, it might be another hundred years before you take my place or a thousand years but the longer you are my apprentice the more you will learn and the wiser you will become"
"I understand Lord"
"Good, now about your vision. Can you describe the world to me?"
Ferron was silent for a moment and the Dark Apostle was silent patiently waiting for his apprentice.
"There was a great bastion there, calved from the rock face itself with a mighty tower that rose dead centre of the citadel" he paused recalling the memory, his new teacher still sitting patiently and listening "There were four great turrets and a curtain wall that slides down to below ground"
"The world?"
"Covered in sand my lord totally desert world my lord"
"The main tower what colour was it, red brick? Black?"
Ferron closed his eyes again and drew the picture from his memory "Black my lord pure black"
Mar Felan rose from his desk and paced around the room. There was only one citadel he knew of that description. He activated his vox feed and told the master where to go.
Then he called for his Coryphaus. Tor Panarl arrived within moments of his summons and bowed low.
"You called my Lord?"
"How familiar are you with the Haganash Bastion?"
"I have heard of it my lord. Built by the sons of Dorn during the Great Crusade"
"Familiarise yourself with it and have the host assembled, it is time to go to war once more" the Dark Apostle motioned with his hand at his apprentice "and meet the Dark Acolyte."
Tor Panarl bowed his head in Far Ferrons direction "I will assign a bodyguard for you Dark Acolyte"
"Have Jubal look after him," The Dark Apostle told him "I have you and Jubal is capable enough to split his duties"
"I will carry out your instructions now my lord."
The Coryphaus left his master and went to do as he was ordered. Mar Felan glanced at his pupil "Now your training will begin."