"There is a great streak of violence in every human being. If it is not channeled and understood, it will break out in war or in madness."- Sam Peckinpah
Headstone was what many subjects in the Imperium would call a backwater, or feral world. Its inhabitants would disagree, instead opting to call it a free world. Regardless of who was right and who was wrong one thing was without doubt, it was practically lawless, the so called 'planetary coucil' was nothing more than a few CEO's of the planet's largest corporations that had seized control of a variety of mining and forestry operations whilst they fended off the bug-bites of the many roaming bandit clans.
This was very apparent to Jericus as he, B-63, and Fenria walked down the crowded street hosting a mix of peoples from many different regions of both the planet and the galaxy. It was lucky for them really because it meant they didn't stand out despite their usual attire of carapace armor and skulled gas masks plus wargear. There were more than a few korpsmen roaming the streets going about various tasks and pursuits, as well as Hoarfell, Randon, Celk, Catachan, Brontian, and even Cadian guardsmen roaming about along with the mix of locals dressed in various garbs including patch-together armor, business suits, and general piece-meal outfits.
It was to be expected as they were in the largest city on the planet, it's one and only port city as it were, which made it the planetary mixing-pot that it was. Not nearly as large as City-32 nor even Jericus' home Clonevan it was nevertheless more crowded per square block than either, or at least it seemed as such. A veritable marsh of people and architecture blending in with the arid background of the dusty flatlands it was built upon, with nigh limitless layers, and just as much character.
However the diverse mix of peoples and the city wasn't their concern for the moment interesting as they were for the curious Surrin. He and his comrades were on a recruiting mission, their quarry located somewhere in a bar called the 'Twilight Exit,' which just came into sight as they saw a local thug get throw out of it's window with a rather large knife buried in his chest.
"Told the bastard he was picking the wrong guy for a knife fight, but he didn't wanna listen. What ya think of that kill eh? Good enough for you Brontian boys," the man who owned the knife called over his shoulder to the formed crowd as he sauntered over to his fallen foe to retrieve his weapon.
Now Jericus had gotten used to Catachans over the past few weeks it took to get to Headstone as they hitched a ride aboard the Ipsum with its resident regiments. Still the sheer bulk of their muscles and general size always amazed him, they were from a heavy gravity world like him, but it seemed they had developed in a different direction, less lean muscle more bulk. And the man before them certainly exemplified the pinacle of what it meant to be a Catachan,
Clad in regular fatigue pants, webbing, and an open flak-vest showcasing his impressive musculature beneath he stood quite a bit taller than Jericus himself, Watchmaster B-63 being the only one of their trio to match the man in height. Finally noticing their presence the Catachan's feral smile turned into a grimace.
"Damn, fun's over guys the wind-ups are here," he wiped the dead man's blood off his knife before promptly turning around and walking back into the bar barely sparing a glance as he went.
"That's our target isn't it," Fenria stated with dour resignation.
"Afraid so, Corporal Jessmuck, best tracker in the Catachan 124th Bloodhounds. Also as you've seen somewhat prone to outbursts of deadly force, he also likes his alcohol a bit too much, gambling... Pretty much anything that could possibly get you in trouble with the commisariat," B-63 confirmed as he was the first to step forward and into the open door of the 'Twilight Exit' leaving his two subordinates behind.
"Doesn't that describe all Catachans?" Jericus said, Fenria merely shrugged in response and proceeded into the bar after their Watchmaster leaving him to shake his head before following in her footsteps giving the dead body a cursory glance as he went by it.
Entering the Twilight he was greeted by the sights and sounds of guardsmen on leave mixing with the already rowdy local population. Scanning the scene he could discern three different bar fights occuring which seemed to simply serve as entertainment for the mostly inebriated occupants. Further searching lead his eyes to what he was seeking, B-63 and Fenria already confronting Corporal Jessmuck about their...well it was really more like an order than proposal, Inquisitor Dauntless made it clear they were to use any and all means to obtain the Catachan for the upcoming mission.
The details were cleared with the man's superiors by Dauntless himself, but Jessmuck had a knack for going 'missing' when on leave until it was time to ship out. Thus they had to track down their tracker as it were, and so here they were in a dive bar trying to convince the quick-tempered man to join them. It was the reason why Jericus and Fenria had been selected by B-63 to join him on his recruitment mission. Not only were they now the most senior members of his squad beside the Watchmaster himself, Fenria was the most level headed in stressful situations and Jericus himself was there because he was their best close combat fighter.
That meant that if Jessmuck decided to get physical Jericus was the one who was supposed to beat the man into submission...looking at the Catachan Jericus' hand had immediately begun twitching as that familiar nervousness wound through his guts.
"Corporal Jessmuck?" B-63 began as he approached the now sitting Catachan, his table seating three other heavily scarred men each festooned with knives who Jericus recognized as Brontians.
The Catachan turned as if just noticing the three Korpsmen for the first time drink midway from his mouth to the table, finally wiping his mouth on his arm he replied. "Depends on who wants to know, what business do you windups have with me? I haven't done anything that wasn't in the right."
"I'm Watchmaster B-63 and my superior is interested in seeking your tracking expertise for a covert mission, if we could have a moment to talk to you about it in private it would be appreciated," B-63 said getting straight to the point, Catachans didn't like beating around the bush.
Jessmuck seemed to take a moment to consider it before spitting at B-63's feet. "I'm on leave for as long as we're planetside windup, tell your superior to shove it and find someone else. I hear those Hoarfell pukes ain't too bad with tracking, let one of them lead you into a poison spore pit why don'tcha."
"That's not going to happen," Jericus spoke before he could stop himself. His words and their barely veiled threat did not go unnoticed by the Catachan whose head immediately swiveled to look in his direction as a feral grin crept onto his face.
"What my subordinate means to say is that our superior isn't the type of man you can really say no to, it is in your best interest to hear all of the details from him first before rejecting his orders. Your own superiors have already given us consent to take you with us for our mission, I have their order form here written down if you'd like to see." B-63 interjected shifting Jessmuck's attention back to himself.
"Ya know I've heard a lot of tales about you windups in transit here. Some pretty unbelievable stuff, too good to be true for a bunch of brainwashed conscripts," Jessmuck started. "Tell you what, I'll make a bet with you I wanna see if some of the stories are true, you lot are supposed to be some tough frackers. Me and him, one on one nothin' but our knives first to draw blood wins. I go with you if he manages to beat me," he finished pointing to Jericus with that same feral grin in place.
Jericus felt his hand twitching even more, he knew the Watchmaster wouldn't pass up the offer, too much faith in his subordinate...the bastard. Plus the way the Catachan was smiling at him was unnerving, it wasn't what he would call a happy smile, more like a predator baring its teeth. One of the cultural quirks possessed by the Catachans they had learned of when they had shared space with the rambunctious jungle worlders.
"Deal, S-1049 ready up," B-63 accepted right away. Jericus suppressed the urge to snap his head toward his superior to glare at him, for one it would make him look weak, and two the expression would be lost behind his mask.
Instead he began to hand off his non-essential wargear to Fenria until he was simply armed with his power-dagger which despite its deadly nature felt inadequate compared to what he had learned was called a Catachan fang. Twenty inches of mono-edged steel compared to his own measely eight inches of dagger. He felt the Catachan might not think his win would count if he activated the power-field, so he'd have to fight without that advantage.
"Looks like we've got another knife fight boys," one of the Brontian men shouted gaining the attention of every patron in the bar. Soon enough a wide circle was formed around the two fighters Jessmuck having gotten up and readying himself, loud cracks emanating from his neck as he stood up and worked it around.
"Let's see if you windups bleed like the rest of us," Jessmuck commented as he drew his Catachan fang and took a few test slashes at the air in front of him to get comfortable. Jericus copied his action rotating his augmetic shoulder and then his elbow three-hundred-sixty degrees apiece to get the limb limbered up and strengthen the neural connection. Despite the unnatural movement of his appendage the Catachan didn't even bat an eye instead merely he began to circle around to start the fight.
Again copying him Jericus began the familiar movement going counter to his opponent and sizing him and the situation up. His advantages...strength, reach, probably more experience, and general hardiness. Jericus' advantages, his carapace, the agility of his lighter dagger, and his augmetics...it was going to be a difficult fight, if it was even winable for him. Another factor was that Jessmuck probably wouldn't hesitate to kill him whereas Jericus had to avoid seriously injuring the Catachan if he actually wanted the tracker to be able to properly do his job.
After a full minute of sizing each other up Jessmuck made the first move feinting an upward thrust which Jericus recognized and chose to not give him an opening. He followed with a nimble slash aimed at Jericus' thigh that the Surrin just barely side-stepped, and they went back to being at a non-attack distance from each other allowing Jericus some breathing room to further analyze the fight.
Blocking out the raucous cheers and boos of the crowd around them Jericus took things into account. Jessmuck was faster than his size would imply, but the real obstacle was his knifes reach, he would have to close the distance to gain any sort of chance of scoring a hit and safely countering the monster blade. Though Jessmuck's superior physical stature and no doubt strength would suit the Catachan just fine in close up grappling. Unfortunately it was Jericus' only sensible chance of winning, he would have to wait for his opponents next attack.
Jessmuck made for another lunge banking on his speed to land the thrust, Jericus hopped aside and began to close for his own counter slash. But the Catachan was quick on his feet and delivered a spin kick square to his chest before his blade could make contact sending Jericus stumbling back and then dodging another slash from the large Catachan fang. This left the two again circling one another.
"Heh least you have a decent grasp on knife fighting, unlike that local boy I stuck earlier. Too bad your stuck with that little pig sticker though," Jessmuck chuckled out clearly enjoying himself a bit too much.
Jericus merely grunted in reply as he rushed forward hoping to catch the large man offguard as he spoke, but the Catachan foresaw his intention and ducked down out of his slashing arc coming around behind him and gong for a decapitating chop. Jericus pulled his head back just in time as the blade whistled down hitting nothing but air, he threw an elbow into the now close Catachan's ribs to stop what was sure to be an immediate second attack.
Jessmuck barely grunted or lost ground as he reversed his knife grip on the fly and stabbed downward where Jericus now was. Using his small frame Jericus whipped around Jessmuck's larger form to avoid the attack going for a slash of his own. The Catachan paid him an uppercut with his free hand for his trouble sending him sprawling quite a distance away.
Recovering quickly Jericus braced himself and began to bat away a flurry of attacks from Jessmuck's fang, his augmetic eye relaying his opponents movements to his arm faster than a normal humans reflexes would allow and affording him the ability to parry each strike. It saved him more than he wanted to admit to himself, Jessmuck was clearly naturally faster and stronger. The attacks came to an end as the Catachan hopped back after Jericus had almost gotten a slash in on his overextended arm.
"Gotta give you credit windup, you've done this quite a few times by now haven't you? I can tell, and the way you move light on your feet like that you're from a heavy world ain't you." Jessmuck was breathing in excitedly as his anticipation of the kill grew.
Jericus again grunted as he studied the man's eyes noting the subtle look of bloodlust in them. It was becoming apparent that the longer the fight drew out the more trouble he would be in as Jessmuck got more excited and thus focused on killing rather than toying with him. This time Jericus doled out his own flurry of attacks using his augmetic arms ability to move in ways no baseline limb could to attack from every conceivable angle available to him.
The fast and nigh unpredictable swings were actually putting the domineering Catachan on the defensive for once as he backed away from most unable to properly anticipate their arcs of attack. Finally he decided to trap the augmetic limb hooking it with his own free arm, but he hadn't figure it could bend and twist the way it did. Ball joints capable of three-hundred-sixty degree rotation in nigh any direction made Jessmuck suddenly aware of just how foolish a move he had made as Jericus grabbed his knife hand preventing him from attacking with his fang whilst he sliced a solid cut across Jessmuck's shoulder-blade.
The Catachan grimaced slightly in barely acknowledged pain as the cut registered and he and Jericus ceased all movement locked in their embrace. By his own set rules Jessmuck had been beaten and he was honest enough to admit it if the grudging look Jericus saw blooming on his face was any indication. Jericus slowly release his hold on the man's knife hand Jessmuck doing the same in kind. They both took a step back from each other noticing that the crowd had gone silent and was waiting to see how the tempermental Catachan would take the loss.
In response to everyone's silent question Jessmuck began to laugh heartily as he sheathed his Catachan fang grabbing Jericus' knife hand and hoisting it up into the air to signify his victory over him as though they had simply been bareknuckle boxing. As the crowd cheered in response uproarously at the Catachan man's show of good sportmanship Jericus reflected that to Jessmuck the knife fight had been the equivalent to boxing at least in his own culture.
Once the crowd of mostly drunk patrons lost interest and began to thin out each going back to drinking and socializing Jessmuck lowered Jericus' hand and let go clapping him on the shoulder. B-63 and Fenria were quick to approach the two men, Jericus sheathed his dagger and accepted the rest of his weapons back from Fenria's care noting how the fight would have been much easier had he been able to use his axe. He also didn't miss the relieved posture Fenria was displaying in response to the fact that he was alright.
"So you said something about a mission for some higher-up muckedy-muck if I remember?" Jessmuck asked adressing B-63 directly with his gaze.
"Yes, and he would be very grateful for your expertise," B-63 replied.
"Alright, we'll need to discuss the details before I go signing on for some suicide mission though," he said with consideration. "Then again it's been pretty boring around here, a little bushwacking on the side might be what the doctor ordered."
"Glad to hear it, if you would come with us to a more private location to talk about the details," B-63 started before the Catachan cut him off.
"Nah, if I go my new Brontian friends here'll want to come too, especially if there's some good fighting to be had. We talk it over at our table drinks on me, besides nobody in here would dare listen in on me after the display we just made." Jessmuck stated with assuredness. They made their way back to the table they had found Jessmuck at with his three other compatriots, the Brontian men each gave Jericus a nod of respect as he, B-63 and Fenria were each offered a seat around the table.
"That scar on your back further dishonors you Jessmuck I expect better from you," one of the Brontians said with a shite-eating grin.
"Wasn't got because my back was turned to the enemy Kerchak, so it doesn't count according to your rules of combat," Jessmuck replied mockingly. "Anyway, taunt me about how I don't live up to your Brontian honor later, our new friends have an interesting proposal for us. If I remember right you and your friends were looking for some action yeah."
"Yes, as I've said before we have been sent by our superior to recruit you for a covert operation. As you can imagine it will be taking us through quite a large portion of land, and he was hoping to utilize your skills to keep us oriented when it comes to the jungles." B-63 said calmly folding his hands on the table as Jessmuck leaned back with a thoughtful look on his face.
"What exactly are you tracking and who is your superior, this doesn't sound like the kind of operation your regiment would usually take on, or even be interested in," Jessmuck asked as he took a sip of his half finished ale.
"Unfortunately I can't tell you who my superior is save that he's not a higher-up in the 82nd, but I can tell you that we need you to help us track down what is undeniably a dangerous xenos threat to the planet itself," B-63 stated lowly so as not to be overheard.
Jessmuck appeared to do a double take at that, and then chuckled lightly. "I take it we're not talking about some ork waagh about to take place here otherwise all this secrecy wouldn't even be necessary. I'm also guessing you can't tell me exactly what these xenos are just yet either, anyway will there be fighting along the way?"
"With all the would be warlords and bandit clans running about I'd be surprised if there wasn't. Our journey will be long and we can't use aircraft if we want to catch this particular enemy unaware," B-63 answered.
"Alright, well I'm in anyway because of that loss I took earlier from your friend here," Jessmuck indicated Jericus with a nod leaning forward on the table as he did so. "How about Kerchak and his boys, they're good fighters and it sounds like you'll be needing those for this trip."
"They're more than welcome to come along, we can have the situation cleared with their superiors within the day. For now though maybe you wouldn't mind coming with us to meet who you'll be working with for the duration of the mission." B-63 said steering the conversation toward its end.
Jessmuck gave that feral grin of his and downed the last of his drink before replying. "Sounds good to me windup, let's get the show on the road."
Lieutenant Virtanen agitatedly brushed dust off of her uniform, she thought darkly that maybe this infernal dustball of a planet may be better off destroyed by the xenos threat they had come to hunt down. One of the local men let out a catcall to try and catch her attention, she sneered internally as she ignored the reprobate. His friends snickered at the man's failed attempt as they continued on by and mercifully passed her position.
"Ya know it migh' do ya some good ta accept one of those compliments one of these days now lass," Schmidt commented idly from her left perched on his stool. They were acting as mere door guards for the base Inquisitor Dauntless had established and oh how Virtanen despised such a lowly task. What's more she despised her current companion, Schmidt and Gunther were what could be considered the scum of the Imperial Guard, and that was being kind. Former penal legionaires, to think one as esteemed as Inquisitor Dauntless would have them in his service, and on top of that they were her seniors in Dauntless' retinue.
"Common filth such as them are below my station legionaire, I am a noble daughter of the Fullsairs, it would not do to mingle with those of such a low station," her haughty sneer seemed permenant upon her features as she spoke.
"An' yet ya deign ta speak with me, you do remember where I come from aye lass," Schmidt shot back in their usual pattern of banter. Over the years he had gotten used to the haughty and higher-than-thou woman, even formed what he considered to be a friendship with her, though it was mostly one-sided to be sure.
"Due to your current service to the highly vaunted Inquisitor I have no choice but to accept you as an equal, perhaps not like you, but accept you nonetheless," she practically bit out. Had Schmidt not known her better he would have thought he was in danger of having a lasbolt put through his skull, but her tone told him she was merely angry with her current task and not necessarily him.
"Aye tha' would put ya in the predicament ta talk with someone of as low a station as I, but I keep tellin' ya my name is Schmidt. I give you the respect of callin' ya by yer own proper name and title, so I'd appreciate it if'n ya extended me the same curteousy." He replied boredly expecting the same answer he always got when he brought the subject of names and titles up.
"As always legionaire I do refer to you by the proper title, you served in the penal legions for your crimes, by Imperial decree you have given up your name during your repentance and thus legionaire is adequate. I only wish you'd do the same for me," Virtanen said with her usual disregard for his plea.
"I told ya I already do la-"
"The affectation 'lass' is not the proper way to address me as I have told you many times before, Lieutenant Virtanen is the most appropriate," she said cutting him off.
"Alright ya got me there, but tell me do I really deserve ta lose ma' name just cause I served in the legions? Is stealing food ta feed one's family really somethin' worthy a being thrown in the penal legions? I keep tellin' ya tha' I was no criminal, you've been ta hive worlds and ya know very well of the work shortages, before the legion I never even harmed a soul. Our great 'Imperium' turned me into a murderer Virtanen, an' I just wish you'd at least acknowlege tha' Gunther and I are good men," he stated with his usual passion on the subject, it was likely to be followed by the haughty Scintillian's usual dismissal.
"Whatever you did surely was sufficient enough legionaire, and you'll get no pity from me because of your transgressions. At least take pride in the fact that you were able to serve well enough to catch the attention of one as esteemed as the Inquisitor, you have little else to be grateful for as I see it," Virtanen replied.
"Aye sure lass as you like, whatever you say yeah. Just remember ta watch ma' back when we're in the thick of it."
"I am a professional Legionaire, it would do me no honor to let even your lowly life perish under my watch on purpose," the uptight woman stated before noticing the approaching figures in the crowd as their comrades.
The precise and upright Death Korps troopers stood out immediately, the brutish imitation of a miniature Arynn was a close second, and the savage looking scarred men with knives strapped all over their bodies completed the strange sight. Virtanen had to admit she had a lot of respect for the Korpsmen, the retinue's lastest additions had proven themselves well enough in combat, and though they were conscripts to the Death Korps she had to admit they had shown nigh the same proficiency and dicipline known for the actual natives who made up Korps regiments.
However, she was less than pleased at what would hopefully be temporary additions for the sake of the mission. The Brontians had not been part of the recruitment criteria Dauntless had given the Watchmaster, or so she had remembered. She immediately got between the group and the entrance to the base of operations, coming face to face with the rictus grin of B-63's skull mask.
"You were only to acquire the Catachan, who are these others with you Watchmaster," she stated clearly.
"Additional hands gathered for the cause, Corporal Jessmuck has assured us they will be quite useful. I can also vouch for Brontian fighting prowess, we could certainly use their assistance for the journey ahead," B-63 replied taciturn as usual when speaking to the Fullsair. "If you would please let us through I'd like to iron out the situation with Dauntless."
Virtanen grimaced at the Watchmaster's non use of the Inquisitors proper title, but she understood that it was for necessity around the new recruits, Dauntless didn't want them to know what he really was until he could tell them himself.
"Jus' let the man through lass, it's all within his rights ta do somethin' like this, remember his assignment not ours, we guard the door," Schmidt piped up from his position behind her idly cleaning his nails.
Virtanen ground her teeth at his intrusion into the situation and use of the term lass, but relented to his logic and merely nodded to the Watchmaster stepping aside to allow him, his subordinates, and the recruits through. As the door closed behind the group and she and Schmidt were the only ones once again outside the door she let out a sigh of annoyance.
"What was the Watchmaster thinking? Bringing those savages along like that, the Catachan alone will be bad enough," she muttered to herself.
"Dunno lass, but B-63's got a good eye he would'nt take troopers he thought wouldn't do well in a scrap," Schmidt replied to her.
Not expecting him to have heard her she turned sharply to glare at him thinking of only one thing to say. "For the last time legionaire stop calling me lass!"
Schmidt just grinned back at her in response.
A/N: Well dear readers yet another chapter for your enjoyment, hope it will please. I'm pretty happy with this one if I do say so myself, please do tell what you all think of the characterizations, and the new characters themselves. As always kindly review, feedback is appreciated.
Shout-outs:
gwb99- thank you again for yet another review, and worry not about the length I very much appreciate it. As for your thoughts on the Imperium I wholeheartedly agree and I'm glad I could actually convey that through my story.
Teefplucka- Well Dauntless has gotten around quite a bit, not sure if he's gotten around that much, but your suspicion isn't without merit. Anyway, thanks for the review and I hope you plan to stick around.
SN6494900- Glad you're enjoying the story as much as you are and thanks for the review. I wanted to do a story for death korps, but when i had first started for the original draft before the finished product you see the characters were actual kriegers and exactly as you described, emotionless and like automatons. As you can imagine those kind of characters can get boring to read and write really fast, so I had to come up with the conscript angle. Plus it just seemed like something new and undone, if you want to read a really good story focused specifically on kriegers and their culture i highly recommend Vengeful Soldiers 'Living to Die' and its sequel. Very good story's and very good writing and characterization, his kriegers are given subtle personalities that are in character and inner thoughts and motivations to justify them. Anywho thank you for the feedback hope to hear more from you.
As always thanks to all my readers who have favorited and alerted you support is appreciated and I hope you're all enjoying the story. See you all soon, remember bi-monthly updates now, so basically the same schedule.
300-709.