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"Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive."- Josephine Hart
The mission seemed like it would be simple, get in, raid the enemy base, collect relevant information on layout, and get back to friendly lines. B-63 hadn't given them much to go on, the order came down from pretty high up and the Watchmaster was keeping very tightlipped about the details, even B-80 seemed to only know a little more about what was really going on than the rest of them, and that wasn't much.
All the relevant details Jericus knew, they were to avoid enemy contact as much as possible, record possible fire-zones and enemy emplacements they saw, and get into the enemy base they had been told was in the sector. Unfortunately they were quite deep behind enemy lines, the only other imperial forces in the area would be small contingents of Randon drop-troopers, and they wouldn't be too much help because of their own responsibilities. So for all he and the others knew they were all on their own for the foreseeable future.
Jericus was on point, a position he found himself in a lot more lately since the Watchmaster liked to have the enhanced sight of his augmetic eye keep them a step ahead of enemy patrols. Thing was though, other than getting past the main battle still in progress they hadn't run into any enemy opposition since getting into the sector they were sent to search. S-548 had gotten a long-range vox for the mission at hand, they were to keep tight communication control for the mission, but if they found anything particularly important—B-63 said he'd know what it was when he saw it—they were supposed to vox the coordinates back to command.
Despite having participated in quite a few operations behind enemy lines by this point Jericus' gut was churning, his eye and arm aching, it short he felt as though something wasn't right in the least. They were coming up to an open area between buildings, having used the back alleys and other obscure roads until that point to avoid possible enemy sight. But there was no way around it, the area was relatively small, and there were derelict vehicles to provide good cover and concealment.
His phantom pain persisted though as he slowly made his way out of the alley they were currently in, scanning his surroundings with his eye he couldn't detect anything. Before he could make the motion for the rest of the squad to move though, a bright flash and concussive bang made Jericus' world much too bright. Even his augmetic eye was disorientated, the phantom pain shutting it down and leaving him blind.
There was shouting, and a series of more bangs, followed by something very hard and very fast colliding with the back of his head, just under his helmets protective covering. He was aware of gravity seeming to betray him as he fell forward onto his face, the last thought on his mind being that he should have listened to his gut.
Opening the door Jericus had to try very hard to restrain his reflexes from kicking in and striking at the two people who had roughly dragged him through the door as soon as it cracked open. B-63 and F-920 had grabbed his arms and pulled him through rapidly for S-1050 to plant a very strong kick into his gut, luckily he had stowed the power-dagger in his belt at the small of his back after deactivating it before he had opened the door, otherwise he might have stabbed one of them accidentally.
"Wait!" he managed to choke out. "It's me, S-1049." S-1050 was the first to notice his uniform and recognize his voice, refraining from smashing in his nose. A look of concern crossed her face, a pale face he was looking at for the first time, framed by dark black hair, and highlighted by bright green eyes. He found himself savoring the experience, mainly because now he had an image to place upon the mask, it somehow made their connection all the stronger, he wasn't just keeping the name of some blank drone anymore.
B-63 and F-920 eased him to his feet and, F-920 leaning back down to pick up the keys he had discarded when he was hauled in by surprise, handing them back to him. Jericus caught his breath and stood up straight nodding to everyone briefly, they were all up now, and somehow they had gotten free of their bindings.
"Well, report trooper what's going on," B-63's face was crinkled in concentration, a few very deep scars standing out against his skin on the left side, they looked like acid marks of some kind, his intense dark—almost black—eyes stared into Jericus' own unerringly. Obviously B-63 had an idea of what was happening but like any good leader he was looking for more detail on the current situation.
"When I woke up some enemy sergeant came to get a few of us for interrogation, Corporal B-80 was awake at the time as well, and we were both brought to an interrogation room. He's still there now, they worked him over badly, but he's still alive, I was able to overpower the guards and get the location of our weapons. Hopefully the medical kit is with them B-80 will need it, Watchmaster I suggest we get moving if you'll follow me," Jericus stated shifting from foot to foot, his eye glanced back to Fenria's face; though none seemed to comment on it, which in hindsight gave him significant relief.
"Fantastic, get us to B-80, we'll go from there." B-63 stated clearly. Jericus nodded and motioned for them to follow him back down the hallway.
"He's right in here Watchmaster," Jericus opened the door to the interrogation room, allowing the others to filter in and see the mayhem he had caused. Though none seemed troubled by it, B-63 in-fact went straight over to B-80, checking on his old friend, taking in the wounds given to him by the torturer.
"Where's the one that did this to him, S-1049 tell me you got the bastard," B-63's voiced dripped with unrestrained anger at the state of his comrade.
"Yes Watchmaster, the skinny one pinned under the sergeant over there, stomped his windpipe in," Jericus stated impassively before adding. "Watchmaster, if we can, we should hurry this along and get our weapons, we're going to need them if we want to get Corporal B-80 out of here and complete the mission. Well whatever the mission is exactly now."
It stood to reason that Watchmaster B-63 still wasn't going to tell them what the real reason behind them being here was, even after the major s.n.a.f.u that had just happened. The man was stubborn like that, an eminently fair and level-headed leader, but he did as he pleased and for this mission he felt they didn't need to know. So he did what any good leader would do, he ignored that last little add-on Jericus had tacked onto his report.
"Right, S-360 you and S-548 stay here with B-80, eyes on the door ready to attack if it's not us. The rest of you come with me and S-1049, we're going to get armed, I'm not going to tell you all how, but we're probably going to be having some friendly assistance soon enough. Before then let's try to soften up this target for them," B-63 stated with the utmost confidence in his voice, that told them all that he was telling the truth, help would be on its way.
Jericus gave a nod before leading them back out the door four more down from it where Mr. Spindly said their weapons would be stored. He wondered why B-63 hadn't questioned how he had gotten loose and been able to kill all six of the enemy in the room by himself, surely the veteran had noticed the various stab and slash wounds left on the corpses? Although maybe the Watchmaster didn't particularly care, so long as they got everyone out of this, B-63 was a lot more attached to his team than he let on at times.
Finding the door Jericus tried each key that was part of the set, he found the whole thing archaic, even on Surris there had been electronic locks. It was strange considering that the people of Endurholdgun had such advanced weapons technology. Finally finding the right key he slotted it into the hole and turned, the resounding click signaling that the door was opened. Stepping inside slowly he as always took point and found himself in a room laden with shelves, upon which were quite a few examples of Imperial weapons technology.
"Arm up troopers, seems we've got a variety to choose from, anything you see that'll give more punch take. If you can recover your own gear too so I don't have to get an earful from the Quartermaster," B-63 was walking over to what looked like an imperial plasma-pistol, still fully functional if the blue glow was any indication. "I've always wanted one of these."
Meanwhile F-920 picked up a meltagun, making it look very easy to lift the bulky weapon in his hands. Jericus and Fenria found their own weapons, the actual ones they had before they had been captured. Lifting up his lasgun Jericus was relieved to feel the weapon's familiar weight in his hand, happily noting that his bayonet was still attached; stowing it on his shoulder he grabbed a nearby hellpistol, stowing the powerpacks next to it in his webbing. He also grabbed a liberal amount of frag and krak grenades, counting on them coming in handy later on. Looking around more he was disappointed that he could not find his trench-axe anywhere.
But he did find the camo-cloak given to them by the Cain, he bundled the meta-material up and secured it in his webbing as best he could, it was very useful, something he would prefer not to lose if he could help it.
Fenria grabbed her longlas, and the lascarbine she had as back up, taking a liberal amount of powerpacks for her own use. The two of them also grabbed the hellguns S-360 and S-548 had been using stowing them on their shoulders for transport. Last but not least something very important caught Jericus' eye, his mask, the frowning skull stared back at him with an abysmal gaze, the right socket with a nasty slash through it.
Picking it up he wasted no time in securing the filtration unit that was attached to his back, he left the mask hooked up to it, but hung it from his belt, not quite willing to put it on for the moment. Instead he secured his helmet to his head and handed Fenria her own mask and helmet. Frowning at him—he still couldn't get over the fact he was actually seeing her frown—she secured her own filtration unit, and surprisingly enough copied him, the mask hung from her belt, helmet placed atop her head.
They continued to collect grenades, powerpacks, and other equipment to give to their comrades when they got back to the interrogation room. It wasn't long before B-63 and F-920 made their way over to them laden with quite a bit of high-end imperial equipment liberated from enemy clutches.
"Ah good you two found our original equipment, lucky that, now I don't have to hear the Quartermaster's tirade," B-63 stated accepting his own hellgun and handing F-920 his as well, F-920 slung the weapon across his back to make better use of his recently acquired meltagun. They both loaded up on grenades and powerpacks as well, alongside their other ammunition taken for their more exotic weapons, Jericus also glimpsed F-920 carrying a medkit, no doubt so S-360 could work on B-80.
B-63 stopped to look into his helmet for a moment—his eyes telling Jericus that he was reading something scrawled inside—before putting it atop his head with a relieved smirk. Taking a note from Jericus and Fenria's books he hung his mask on his belt and placed the filtration unit in-place across his back. F-920 was the only one to actually put his mask back on, the rubber and metal concealing what Jericus could tell was a very pained expression etched on his face and in the man's brown eyes.
Feeling a pat on his shoulder Jericus turned to face B-63's scarred face, his Watchmaster was holding something out for him to take. "Figured you could use an upgrade, found this, thought about keeping it for myself, but to be honest I was never one for getting particularly close to my enemy, besides you'd know your way around it better I figure."
Taking the weapon Jericus found himself looking at an axe, not unlike his old trench-axe, blade on one side spike on the other. It was a simple looking weapon, almost crude really, though that belied its deadly nature, as soon as he glimpsed the activation rune on the haft he knew exactly what it was.
"Watchmaster I can't take this…" Jericus tried to get out of it. Officers, let alone troopers would have a difficult time getting any kind of power-weapon, and the Watchmaster didn't know that he had one already, or at least hadn't questioned it. Overall the situation was unprecedented, and Jericus definitely did not feel worthy of what was considered an extreme honor by most.
"None of that trooper, you're a grenadier, and our light weapons specialist. No one else in the squad would be able to make better use of it and like I said I don't find myself really wanting it, take it or it'll otherwise go to waste. Besides most officers would prefer a sword anyway, more noble looking, you know. You won't get a second look with that thing, too simple looking for what it is really." Watchmaster B-63 stated with no room for argument turning and walking away.
"Alright Watchmaster."
"There's a good trooper," B-63 called over his shoulder.
Placing the axe into his belt he and the group started back to the interrogation room armed to the teeth. It was a short trip back to the room, opening the door slowly Jericus noted that S-360 and S-548 were ready to attack if necessary, though the two stood down once they saw that it wasn't a threat.
Jericus and Fenria handed the two their recovered weapons, grenades, powerpacks, and masks, the last of which the two put on with surprising speed despite the fact that half the squad had opted not to do so. A testament to how deep their training was ingrained, or maybe at this point they simply felt more comfortable, Jericus despite his stubbornness was feeling naked. F-920 handed the medkit over to S-360 who immediately began to dress B-80's wounds from the torture.
While this occurred near everyone else was poised and ready to blast whoever was unfortunate enough to stumble through the door halfway across the Milky Way. B-63 stuck with her as she tended to B-80's wounds and assessed his condition. Once the wounds were dressed S-360 put B-80's top clothing and armor—stripped from him during torture—back onto his unconscious form.
"Will he be able to move?" B-63 asked evenly.
"From what I'm seeing Watchmaster he should be fit enough to fight, the damage is mostly cosmetic, made to inflict the most pain possible, but surprisingly none of it crippling save for his eye. Though it'll hurt something awful for him to grip a weapon without his nails he should be able to do it, I've given him some mild painkillers, and I can wake him up on your order," S-360 replied matter-of-factly.
"Exactly what I wanted to hear, get our Corporal up,"
S-360 held smelling salts under B-80's nose; the man awoke mere seconds as the powerful odor assaulted his sinuses. He started groggily and startled before he took in B-63's face and S-360's mask, he visibly relaxed though he still looked ill-at-ease.
"This a dream?" he speech was somewhat slow.
"Warp no Corporal, get your arse up we've got heretics to kill. S-1049 already got a head start on you so I'm expecting you to catch up," B-63 placed a hellpistol in his friend's hand and handed him his mask and helmet afterward. B-80 simply nodded standing on his feet, though slightly shaky he got his balance quickly enough, put his mask, and helmet on. Stowing the hellpistol he accepted his hellgun and readied the deadly weapon with slow but practiced movements.
He had to have felt pain in his mangled hands, though he didn't show it, possibly because of his training or the painkillers. Though that didn't matter seeing as he seemed ready and able to carry out the mission.
"Ready to go Watchmaster," B-80 gave a salute to the man. "Follow you anywhere."
"That's what I like to hear Corporal," B-63 turned to address the rest of them. "Time to move out troopers we've got some killing to do."
Jericus took point with F-920, with his eye and F-920's meltagun they would be best able to deal with threats in the close-quarters of the winding hallways ahead and ostensibly the whole complex. B-63 was close behind them with B-80 by his side, while Fenria brought up the rear with S-360 and S-548. The halls were laden with boxes, overturned crates, their contents long gone among other odds and ends. It was truly strange for a secure installation to be this messy, unless of course things were not in point of fact going well for the defenders.
Jericus judged from the messiness that that was probably what was occurring, it probably had something to do with what B-63 had said, about them having reinforcements soon enough. The sounds of fighting were audible ahead, they followed them, the closer they got to the danger the closer they would most likely get to safety. If there was fighting then there was only one reason for it, guardsmen, unless the humans of Endurholdgun had repented their heretical ways and decided to exterminate their xenos allies to save themselves, but that was unlikely given the tenacity of their resistance thus far.
Finally they came to a semi-open area of sorts, overturned desks, and chairs, with some kind of cogitators in the back and flickering holo-displays gave the impression of some sort of command space. They could see enemy combatants on the other side; hold up behind a deployable barricade fending off what was no doubt their backup. Jericus judged by the fact that a few of them were not armored and that they seemed to be in what looked to be battle-dress-uniforms that these were mostly upper-enemy-command, tech and communications support, and a handful of actual troopers meant to be guards.
Heavy lasfire was coming through the large breached entrance—the heavy metal peeled back from the force of whatever the guard had used to breech—the enemy was facing, along with what looked like plasma fire judging by the blue bolts. Despite the heavy saturation the enemy cover was holding up remarkably well, it must have been a higher-grade defense material to be able to defend—albeit only slightly Jericus judged by the melted portions—against so much lasfire and even plasma. Though so focused on their front they failed to notice the grenadiers coming up behind them.
Jericus and F-920 looked behind them to Watchmaster B-63 for his go ahead on how to handle the situation. B-63 immediately began to sign where he wanted everyone, B-80, S-360, and S-548 over to the enemy's right flank behind some overturned cogitator banks. Jericus, Fenria, and F-920 to the left flank along with himself behind the base of a flickering holo-display; the positions allowed them to catch the enemy forces in a crossfire from behind while remaining safe from incoming friendly fire.
Getting into position B-63 gave them all the go ahead and they opened up on the exposed backs of the enemy. There had to have been at least twenty-five counting troopers, officers, and support personnel though it was probably closer to thirty; in any case Jericus and the others opened fire into the enemy, their weapon-fire raking exposed unsuspecting backs.
Despite being a close range weapon F-920's meltagun did as its namesake suggested, any enemy it hit seemed to evaporate, or otherwise…well melt from the intense heat energy. B-63 decided to use his new plasma-pistol for the extra punch it offered to go through enemy armor as he targeted the troopers, bright blue energy melted through the tough material and enemy bodies alike leaving very large scorched holes or otherwise turning the target to slag.
Lasfire from the hellguns supercharged lasbolts took care of the rest, Jericus worked with Fenria to focus fire on the same target, or going after the unarmored support personnel and officers. Terrible wounds soon silenced the enemy who hadn't even known what had hit them as they fell over dead, any who had thought to return fire on their flankers was shot down by the assaulting force they had been holding off before then.
Jericus and Fenria each pulled the pin on their own frag-grenades lobbing the explosives to land in the midst of the remaining enemy. Explosions punctuated by flying shrapnel eliminated any of the enemy that remained; one poor xenos had the unfortunate luck to be ripped in two as Fenria's grenade landed right at its feet. Apparently the xenos bled red just as humans did, and any anatomical difference in organ structure was lost as shrapnel turned guts to paste. Jericus grenade made two enemy trooper dive away from the explosion only to be cut down by the assaulting lasfire.
Sounds of weapons-fire ceased haltingly as the assaulting forces realized that the enemy was no longer shooting back. B-63 still had everyone train their weapons on the entrance should the assaulting forces by some slim chance not turn out to be Imperial forces. Jericus was uneasy; the silence was equaled only by the stillness after the firefight, comparable to the aftermath of a large storm, the smell of ionized air was heavy.
"Grenadiers, Watchmaster B-63-82-Echo Company, captured during raid, code-phrase echo one-eighty," B-63 yelled out as loud and clear as he could. His voice carried through the silence only to be answered by more silence until the soft clacks of boot falls could be heard. Jericus had expected Korpsmen, Hoarfell, or even Randon to appear through the entrance, but what came through instead was quite the shock.
Storm troopers, their carapace armor and mirror visored helmets gave them away, and if that wasn't enough their hellguns as well as assortment of plasma and meltaguns left no more doubt on the matter. One of the lead storm troopers put his hand to the side of his helmet and had a brief conversation over the vox not heard by Jericus and the rest of the squad. Done he didn't reply to them instead the precise formation parted to allow a group of figures through.
Jericus immediately recognized Magos Chevel, the loose red robes, and the mechadendrites flowing idly around her form, green optics peering out from beneath her hood. The other figures he hadn't the foggiest, one was a rather tall man, his large greatcoat concealing carapace armor underneath, though from the look of it the armor was of remarkable workmanship, certainly not like Jericus' own hand-me-down battle-scarred set. A wide brimmed hat obscured his face, at his right hip a similarly well crafted sword, on his left some unidentifiable pistol the like of which Jericus had never seen or heard of.
The rest of the group varied wildly, five more people in total, one obviously an ogryn judging by its massive form, what looked to be a Guardswoman of a regiment Jericus had not heard of, though the uniform was certainly unique, the tri-fold hat left an impression. Two more individuals were not so easily discernable, their wargear reminiscent of guard issue, but obviously customized and with no prior ranking or regimental insignia, so perhaps freelancers, two men by their shape and bearded faces. The last looked to be an Arbitrator of all things, her heavy armor, shotgun, and power-maul making her very distinct.
"B-63! It's absolutely fantastic to see that you're still alive and kicking. Hope we weren't too late, looks like you and yours didn't do too bad all things considered," Magos Chevels cheery mechanical tone carried through the silence.
"Kerelia, how is it that whenever something terrible happens to me you always seem to show up?" B-63 shot back, a little aggravation in his voice.
"Dunno, divine providence I suppose," the man in the large hat coughed politely from her left having walked up to her. "Oh my, where are my manners Watchmaster B-63 it is my pleasure to formally introduce you to Bernard Sander Dauntless of the Emperors holy Inquisition, Ordo Xenos."
Jericus and indeed the entire squad gaped at the new information thrown at them by the over-exuberant tech-priestess, at least on the inside. They kept as professional as they could, given the circumstance, and Jericus felt he was doing a pretty good job of it, though he was now really regretting not having a mask to cover his face.
"Well, I wasn't expecting that when I woke up today," B-80 responded first, the drugs having made his sense a little more loose than it should have been. Jericus, Fenria, S-360, and S-548's heads all seemed to slowly turn toward their Corporal, certain that speaking as such in the presence of an Inquisitor was likely to result in nothing good. Their worries were cut off by a soft chuckle; they all turned, again this time to the Inquisitor himself, the source of the amused sound. The Inquisitor fixed B-80's battered form with a friendly looking gaze and a genuine smile.
"My dear friend, no one ever expects the Inquisition."
A/N: Apparently my Guest reviewer did, good job on that by the way. Apologies to all by the way for the time between updates, as I'm sure it was for everyone else the holidays are quite time consuming and I didn't get much time to sit down and type this up. Next update should be back on my usual schedule, one or two weeks.
CookieMonsta1233- thank you kindly for the review.
SgBriggs- You're welcome and I hope you enjoyed your holidays as well.
Commissar Critical- I was lmao at your reviews (in a good way, I thank you for your input), but yikes my good reader did you really read this whole thing in a day 0_0? That's pretty damn hardcore, even for a Commissar.
CommissarCowboy- Yes indeed that will be a plot point later on down the line.