-Dimitri's POV-
It was to be war. Blood was to be spilled and battles were to be fought.
I have seen war. Countless times over the millennia. I know the costs and the flow. David…does not.
He is young, emotional. Much like my first wielder during the siege of Stalingrad. He is more focused in this moment on revenge than tactical utility.
I cannot blame him, however, for his choice in retaliatory target.
Raya, David and I are nearly completely buried in sand a kilometer away from the landing pad on which the Captain General is returning to the Imperial Palace, my muzzle trained on the landing zone as the Arvus Lighter begins to descend.
"There's no way they didn't get the nod from someone…they must've accused me of something. Heresy, more than likely…and if they felt ballsy enough to make a move on Terra itself…they've got a High Lord in their corner." David muttered under his breath, the deadly calm hadn't left him since he decapitated the Neophyte. It was a cold fury, the kind that would lead an army to victory or destruction and only time would tell.
The Arvus Lighter landed, and the Captain-General stepped out with the headless corpse of the Neophyte slung under one arm, and a bloody chunk of David's breastplate clenched in his other hand.
As expected, Reclusiarch Ivanus Enkomi of the Minotaurs was there waiting, with two Contemptor-Class Dreadnaughts flanking him. David shifted me ever slightly, and I focused my sights on the baleful red glass of the Reclusiarch's visor. I would send my round true, when the moment came, this I swore.
" Captain-General, you return." The Captain General's Vox is relaying the Reclusiarch's words, who remains unfazed as Leonidas unceremoniously dumps the corpse of the Neophyte on the ground in front of him.
" You really should train your Neophyte's better. Considering he was killed by an only moderately augmented Heretic. I finished your job." The Captain-General lies as easy as he breathes, tossing the broken piece of armor towards the Reclusiarch who turns it over in his hands.
" He wasn't worthy of the name if he couldn't handle a single uppity mortal. Is there no corpse? The chapter master wished to hang him from a cross."
" You forget to whom you're speaking, Reclusiarch. Be thankful I give you that trinket, and that I don't remove your head for the incompetence you've shown today." Leonidas is projecting indignation, fully in the character of the inconvenienced Demi-god. " If you suspected Heresy on Holy Terra you should've killed him before we left the Palace! Are you out of your mind?! Allowing him to conduct an entire operation?!"
" He was under the protection of the Shield-Captain, and under your watch as well. Why did you not handle the situation then, if you already knew." The Reclusiarch defended himself without shame, tucking the armor piece into his belt.
" I am the Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes. High Lord of Terra. It is well within my rights to test the capabilities of the defenses of Holy Terra. And this test, you have Failed." The Captain General roared at the Reclusiarch, causing him to take a step back. " And it is because of this failure, that you and your chapter must face the consequences of your actions. " There it is. The signal. The Captain General's hand tightens on his Lance as David pulls my trigger with rage in his heart.
I saturate the bullet with his rage, grief, and retribution as it flies through my barrel, with his sorrow and pain.
I fill it with the rage, grief, sorrow and pain of soldiers long dead who went through the exact situation David is in now, who watch him from the Immaterium. Of soldiers whose comrades died out of a higher-up or rival's pride, who never earned retribution in their lives.
I fill it with Piotr's rage, as his soul watches from the Throne Room.
The bullet, nyet, the Simulacrum of Retribution leaves my barrel in deadly silence, flying in a dead line unaffected by gravity or the tearing winds of the wastes. I watch it as it travels, driven by purpose more than the gunpowder, and finally pierces through the left eye lens of the Reclusiarch's helm, and the skull beneath. I can feel it, rattling off the inside of his skull, ricocheting back and forth tearing through brain matter with each pass.
Reclusiarch Ivanus Enkomi siezes as if struck with a bolt of lightning, then his head sags. He died on his feet, and his armor held him there, on his feet, even whilst the Captain-General Dispatches the Dreadnaughts with contemptous ease.
Part of this display, I believe, is to humble David. Even if he dispatched a renowned Space Marine, Leonidas is infinitely more capable.
He pierces through their armor in two strokes so fast that the humans can't see. I can, however. I see the blood on his lance, after each thrust, and I watch the Dreadnaughts slump as their pilots are removed from their mortal coil.
" Sangre por Sangre…One down. Nine hundred and ninety nine to go." David mutters as he stands up out of the sand, bringing me with him.
" Nine Hundred and Ninety-Seven. I believe it would be frugal of you to get over here quickly, David. It seems the other High Lords are in a meeting."
"I'm on my way." David slings me over his shoulder and he begins to make his way down towards the Palace. Not once noticing the figure other than Raya rise from the sand behind him, cradling a sniper rifle of their own. The human remains silent, simply observing.
His rifle is more talkative.
"Not bad, old-timer. Your boy needs a bit more practice before he's up to Vindicare standards though."
"Practice he will get in time, молодой. (Young one.)."
I announced my entrance into the meeting of the High Lords of Terra by tossing the offal-filled helm of Reclusiarch Ivanov Enkomi onto the table in the center.
" The Master did it!" A tiny voice whispered, hidden behind ruffles of silk and scrolls.
Twelve of the most powerful people in the Imperium in a single room. One of which at this time was my direct superior, who flicked a piece of grey matter off of her shoulder.
"It seems that one of you has a severe problem with my Interrogator, if this is how he announces himself." Vail spoke, garbed in an aristocratic dress and the telltale shimmer of her refraction field around her.
"They murdered Piotr." I stated simply, Silver adding a layer of intimidation to my voice through the Vox.
"….it seems that one of you has a problem with me . If you'll excuse me, I have a condolence letter to write. David, try not to kill all of them." With this, Amberley stood up, gave a polite curtsy, and left the room. Leonidas shifting slightly to allow her to pass.
"No promises." I state, causing her to pause for a moment before continuing to leave. Her voice comes through my private vox channel a moment later.
" Only who needs to die, David." She spoke. " Do not let this insult stand."
I marched closer to the table, beginning to circle it like a shark in bloody water.
"I would much rather not have to be here, and under different circumstances would've been glad to make your acquaintances without this albatross around our necks. Alas, fate has other plans for us. I am Interrogator David James Foothill. And I am here to deliver a message." I speak calmly, finally moving forward and placing my hands on the table, framing the bloody helmet with my hands and leaning forward to give a baleful glare to the ten remaining high lords.
"I serve the Emperor dutifully. I have fought the Ruinous Powers, the Xenos, and the Heretic since the moment I was conscripted. I killed the Heretic Inquisitor Drogan. I eradicated the Necron tomb on Simia Orchicalcae, I killed the Dark Apostle of the Word Bearers Quor Karmain. I invented the Helldrake pattern heavy storm bolter, the Godwyn-Foothill pattern bolt pistol, and the Repentia pattern flamer. In two years of service I have granted more boons and resources to the Imperium than most regiments do in a decade. I came to Terra on orders from the Golden Throne directly. Yet, the moment the Minotaurs throw an accusation, one of you ten gave the go ahead. This nearly compromised an anti-chaos operation that was still ongoing, cost a loyal man, a recipient of the Medalion Crimson , no less, his life. For this, and the many other atrocities the Minotaurs have committed against human decency, they have signed their death warrant." I paused to remove my helm, my silver locks billowing out of it and draping over my shoulders. I placed my helm on the table and made sure to lock eyes with all ten of the people at the table. "Look me in the eyes, and see this 'heresy' they accused me of. Of having the spine to not fear them. The Astartes do not have a monopoly on grit."
"You would deprive the Imperium of an entire Space Marine chapter for a single man?" The Lord Commander Militant of the Astra Militarum, an old general covered in medals in dress uniform.
"I would put down a rabid pack of terrorists who have killed countless imperial citizens, relish in 'friendly fire' incidents with other Astartes, and have antagonized at least three of nine loyalist First Founding Chapters. There are innumerable space marine chapters that can be just as if not more effective at quelling disloyalty without deliberately breeding enmity amidst what should be bastions of duty and honor." I countered, earning a scoff from the Master of the Adeptus Administratum.
He thinks himself safe, hidden behind layers of red tape and proxies. He doesn't realize his neglected bolt pistol ratted him out the moment I tossed the helmet.
Why is it always the pencil pushers.
"Naive. A child, lashing out at a bully." He stated, "honor. What greater honor is there than to crush an upstart who believes themself above their station? Duty? The Minotaurs have done their duty without question for centuries. With great enthusiasm."
I turned to face the Grand Master of the Officio Assassinorum, an elderly woman cloaked in a hood with a grin on her face. Your friendly babushka, just packing enough toxins to kill a rhinoceros.
"Is he aware of how comically evil he sounds defending them? What's the running bounty on his head from the grunts? I know there's got to be one." I asked, earning a smirk.
"Almost worth the trouble it'd cause, dearie."
"Thank you Ma'am." I gave her a polite nod before whirling back towards the Master of Administratum who had begun to stand up.
"Oh no you don't. You sit your ass back down. Your dog bit someone it shouldn't have one too many times and you're trying to save it from the pound. That ain't how this works. You see, you're misunderstanding what I'm saying." I brought out Dimitri's spent casing and tossed it to the Grand Assassin who caught it with surprising dexterity. "This was the first shot. Not the only shot. I'm going to wipe them out. The question now is whether you're going to get with the program and help out or be… retired."
The sounds of firearms cocking themselves rang throughout the room, despite no one having them in their hands.
"I didn't have to come here. Inquisitor Vail could've simply declared them Excommunicate Traitoris and I could've called on any number of grudge wielding Astartes to wipe them out. This is a professional courtesy, to facilitate the transition with as little disruption as possible to operations ongoing." I explained, addressing the whole room once more. The Grand Provost Martial seemed almost bored, the Ecclisiarch had a bloodthirsty grin on his face and a fanatical gleam in his eyes, The Navigator's Envoy seemed intrigued at the drama more than anything else, and the Fabricator General's gaze hadn't left my eyes since I removed my helmet.
" The Adeptus Mechanicus motions to declare Adeptus Astartes Chapter: Minotaurs Excommunicate Traitoris. " He spoke, vox tinged High Gothic echoing throughout the room.
"Seconded." The Grand Master of the Assassinorum spoke without hesitation, the smirk having never left her face.
"Thirded." The Master of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica spoke for the first time, eyes glowing even behind the visor they were hidden behind.
" Motion of Excommunicate Traitoris is supported by the Adeptus Custodes." Leonidas once again proving to be a good man.
"Abstained." The Master of the Astronomican spoke, I'd imagine him and his entire faction are having a lot more pressing issues to worry about with Big E back on his feet.
"Objection." The Administratum Master Snarled from his position in his seat, but the waver in his voice betrayed his fear.
"Given the evidence and arguments provided by the accused…the Adeptus Arbites rules…in favor of Excommunicate Traitoris." The Grand Provost Marshall spoke, still seemingly bored even as his eyes darted over a dataslate that seemingly appeared from nowhere.
Two more abstentions, the Navigator, and Lord Commander of the Segmentum Solar.
The final vote that would declare a majority would be the Lord Commander Militant, who locked gazes with me for a long moment.
"Tell me, Son. What are you really doing this for." He asks, and I see that this man is no noble who got into the ranks by name alone. I can see it in his eyes, and the laspistol in his coat tells me of years in trenches, blood, and mud.
"…they took one of ours, Sir." I stated simply, resolute.
"Then you'd best be prepared to pay the blood price. Motion carries."
Click-Click-Click
The sound of a trigger being pulled to no avail. The Master of the Administratum had pulled out his bolt pistol and was desperately trying to kill me. Unfortunately for him, his bolt pistol hated his guts. I let out a heavy sigh.
"Really dude?" I muttered, drawing my pistol. I turned to the head of the Assassinorum. "Am I stepping on your toes handling this?"
"Go on ahead, Dearie."
"Alrighty Ma'am."
- BANG-
"Thank you all for your time and consideration. I hope in the future our meetings will be under more favorable circumstances."
I had intended to get a hold of Venters and Vail to start sending out communiques to start siccing as many Astartes chapters I could get in contact with on the Minotaurs, but was stopped by two voices speaking near-simultaneously.
"A word, Dearie."
" Your Attention, Machine-Speaker."
The Fabricator-General and the Grand Master of Assassinorum had managed to circle around to cut off my path. Which, considering their respective fields of work, I couldn't blame them.
Still it was rather amusing to see a 5'3" elderly lady cow an Eldritch mass of machinery and flesh with a look.
"As I was saying, I need a word with you, Dearie. Before you go gallivanting off on this little holy war of yours." The Grand Master of Assassins spoke, hitting me with a gaze much too intense for her size.
"Well, ma'am, I'm all ears." I responded simply, earning a familiar smirk.
"Finally, some proper respect. Listen well, Foothill. Seek out the Lamenters, and if not them, the Angels. The Lamenters may self-depreciate themselves into abstaining from this crusade, but their brothers I'm sure will be eager to get their battle barge back." The Grand Master urged, to which I responded with a smirk of my own.
"Way ahead of you there, ma'am. They're number two on my list."
"The Sons of Vulkan are eager to meet their Pseudo-Neophyte, but their numbers are limited. When facing an Astartes, especially a chapter as well supplied as the Minotaurs, it behooves one's self to bring along overwhelming force." The woman spoke,
"You're awfully well-informed." I muttered,
"I'm an assassin, Dearie. Comes with the job. I wouldn't be talking if I were you about knowing things you shouldn't, Mr. 'I will unmake you'." Okay changing the subject
"Overwhelming force, you said?" I spoke, hoping to get this conversation diverted in a direction that wouldn't end in me being disappeared. "Are you offering a few Eversor drop pods in that equation?"
"Don't go fishing for favors you can't afford, Dearie. This next one is free: the codex Astartes is hated by many chapters. Seek them out. Good day, David."
With that she walked away, leaving me with the Fabricator General.
" Machine-Speaker." He began, now having my full attention. " The Adeptus Mechanicus has been supportive of your endeavors, I would hope that you understand this service is to be repaid during your tenure on Holy Mars."
I let out a heavy sigh, nodding.
"I'm well aware of my debts, Sir. And I intend to pay them back with interest."
The robed form of the Fabricator General kept his eyes locked with mine, the augmetic lenses keeping me from getting a read of him.
" Properly educated…you would be magnificent, Machine-Speaker. Are you aware of your agency, I wonder. The machine-spirits listen when you speak. Bereft of rituals and assuasions…it is a paradigm shift that will shake the mechanicus to its core, if it can be taught. If it can't, and the Omnissiah has simply chosen you to be the voice of the Machines…this will be an interesting Age indeed." With that declaration, the Fabricator General scuttled away like some dieselpunk centipede. I let out a huff before I got moving to the Arvus Lighter as soon as I could.
Triton and Soline could get the B-52 onto the Exterminatus, I need to talk with Amberley and Venters. The Minotaurs on Terra itself were likely already being set upon by the Custodians and the Fists, but I didn't see their fleet in orbit. No, a token presence…they're out there somewhere.
I needed to find out where, but first, Allies. Still, I will admit, I was rather giddy at having managed to get a whole goddamned space marine chapter declared traitors. I felt myself sing a little as I walked through the halls of the Sanctum Imperialis.
" Glory Be, Glory Be,
I'll Hang Him from the Hanging Tree
String Him up for all to see
Gonna Send that Sinner back home."
Venters had met me at Amberley's office, where she was looking over the Terran skyline through a viewport.
"I am an Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos…I am meant to hunt Xenos who have infiltrated our home. To destroy those weak willed enough to be corrupted by the Xenos. Now, my ire is raised towards the Astartes…meant to be our guardians, our Angels of Death…and one of their chapters murdered one of my men out of spite." Vail speaks, back turned towards us as she speaks. "My ship is named the Externus Exterminatus. I have never felt the urge to unleash her namesake…until now." Vail turns from the viewport to face us both properly.
"The Inquisition has given me carte blanche to answer this insult the Minotaurs have served us…David."
"Yes Ma'am?" I asked, worried about the stone cold tone she was addressing me with.
"I want that archeotech bomber to be functional and void-capable as soon as possible, and I need you to tell me how many other chapters have the Minotaurs wronged. Who's most likely to come to assist, and what we can bargain with." Amberley ordered me, before turning to Venters.
"Sergeant Venters, send word to your brothers that the Minotaurs have been declared Excommunicate Traitoris. We will see the Traitors burned to dust."
" I have already sent the communique, Inquisitor."
"Good…David, I have one more order for you in particular."
"Yes, Inquisitor?" I asked, intrigued, before Amberley locked eyes with me, and I can see her for every hour of her many years of service she's given to the Inquisition.
"Pray for me. Please." She whispers, the weight of command straining her voice. I nod solemnly, before Venters and I leave her quarters.
" From one war to another, David?" Venters comments, as we begin to walk through the halls of the Exterminatus. I give another nod, this one resolute.
"For too long, injustice as this has gone unanswered. Piotr didn't deserve to die that way…my hubris killed him. It hurts to admit that. But I am done being scared, of being hesitant to change things. I tried playing the slow game of regicide. No. This place wants to play rough? Fuck it." I declare, turning to face Venters.
"I spat in Nurgle's eye. Now It's the Bird's turn. It wants to play 4D chess…Well I'm going to flip the damned table. This is just one step. A massive step, yes, but just one. I've got a goal, Venters."
" And just what is this goal, David?" Actual curiosity from a Salamander that I would call my friend for years to come.
"I'm going to drag this rotting corpse of an Imperium towards actual progress even if it kills me." I declare proudly, back straight and eyes locked with Venters' helm. "And you're gonna help me."
Silence reigns for a moment, before Venters' shoulders begin to quake, and he throws his head back in laughter that rings throughout the ship.
" As if there was any doubt, my friend."
Two days pass, I work mainly with Yanbel, Triton, and Soline on getting the B-52 back into fighting shape.
Lots of welding.
Lots of math. Ugh.
Still, On this particular day I was summoned back up to discuss with Amberley further assistance than just the Salamanders.
"Contact the Lamenters, and the Blood Angels…they'll be joining in on the fun for sure."
"That was a bit of a given, David." Amberley's dry wit had returned after two days of melancholy, it seemed.
"I'm not done yet, boss. I already know who to take over the Minotaurs' duties with, and I can assure you that they'll be a boon, especially if we allow them some of the loot." This earned a rise of one of Vail's delicate platinum eyebrows.
"...Go on."
"The Retributors." I declare confidently. To which Vail gains some thought.
"They don't have much fame to their name." She comments,
"They're practically invisible to most of the Imperium, but they're ruthless, efficient, and damned perseverant. They're perfect. They're mysterious enough that no one will question them suddenly appearing to quell rebellious Space Marines, and reasonable enough to use their brains when dealing with fluid situations. If the High Lords need an attack dog, we give 'em one that's actually trained, and not just gnashing at their leash. We offer them half the loot, and the 'Honor' of becoming the Space Marine HR department. They get the chance to gain more notoriety, we get more bodies to help the crusade. The blood is already in the water. The moment we figure out where the Minotaurs scurried off to, every Tom, Dick and Harry with a grudge to settle is going to find a way to join in. Hell, some Astartes may just show up to nab some of the prime wargear."
"...Damned Blood Ravens." Amberley mutters before releasing a huff and continuing.
"I'll send out the communique. Double-time it on that bomber, Interrogator, I want to rain hellfire on those bronzed groxshits!"
Vail had shoved me out of the war room to take over planning the assault when she had received word that we would be joined by the Lamenters in addition to a cadre of Blood Angels. Which Blood Angels and Lamenters, Vail wouldn't tell me.
As such I was setting about getting the B-52 back into fighting shape, in addition to outfitting it with void shields. The engine retrofit was going smoothly, with the conversion to promethium fueling providing enough thrust to breach the atmosphere. Theoretically.
As I was finishing up covering the exterior of Sir Buff with enough warheads on foreheads propaganda to make Senator Armstrong proud, the plane spoke to me.
"On your six, Interrogator." The old sky-knight spoke to me, I finished up a darkened stars'n'bars before putting away the paintbrush. In the reflection of the cockpit I could see a space marine, white sternguard helm observing the bomber. He held his hands at his waist, one resting casually on the hilt of his combat blade.
"If you're gonna play things that way, my friend, you're gonna need a bigger knife." I spoke, turning to face the Space Marine.
"It would be sufficient." He spoke, voice a hoarse whisper, he stepped back as I hopped down from the fuselage to the floor. "What manner of vessel is this?"
"This is the B-52 Stratofortress. 38,000 years ago, they would send the A10 warthog when tanks needed to die, they would send an AC-130 when a company of soldiers needed to die…when nations needed a reminder of their mortality, they sent the Big Ugly Fat Fucker here." I spoke whilst knocking on the landing gear with the back of my hand. "Capable of carrying 70,000 pounds of munitions, nuclear and phosphex munitions included."
"Are you not worried this design is obsolete?" The still unnamed Space Marine spoke, I shrugged.
"Youth and exuberance is no match for old age and treachery. Speaking of which, I'm more worried you're gonna try and take my planes as a tithe with these questions you're asking."
"A passing thought, nothing more."
"You got a name, Soldier?"
"Vanguard Infiltrator Akamu, Raven Guard's 1st Company, Interrogator." The now named Raven Guard spoke, I nodded, that explains how they got in without anyone telling me.
"We hadn't received word of your participation in this hunt." I commented.
"I'm delivering it, Interrogator."
"Ah, gotcha…" I was going to say more before a keening screech burst into my ears.
" D #1D!" …
What the fuck was that.
—
We had left Terra's orbit soon after I had retired the former master of the Administratum. Ammunition reserves, food, and other necessities generously given to us by the newly appointed High Lord of the Administratum.
I'm fairly certain Babushka Assassin made me that dude's boogeyman for the next century.
Anyways, We had remained in the Sol System and were gathering a decent fleet.
We still couldn't locate the Raven Guard ship, but we knew they were close enough to participate in the war meetings via vox-channel. The Retributor's Battle Barge and a significant amount of support craft had arrived, and their Chapter Master had been in contact with Vail as well.
We were still waiting on the Lamenters and the Blood Angels to arrive, but in the meantime drills were being planned and training was up.
With the B-52 being worked over by Triton and Soline to make sure everything was as Void-Capable as possible, I was working on learning how to be personally Void-Capable. In addition to trying to figure out what machine was trying to get ahold of me. I knew it was a machine, because my weapons refused to tell me who, but just that it was one. 'You must awaken even further, my friend.' Was all that I could pry out of them. My musings were cut short by a presence that wasn't Raya.
"I understand you're having some hearing trouble, my friend." Yanbel spoke, entering the room with his Omnissian Glaive in hand, he gestured over to a worktable so as to talk properly. I moved over and sat down.
"Something's trying to get my attention, and I can't figure out what. It's damned loud though. And I can hear it wherever I am." I explained, bringing a hand up to rub at my forehead. Yanbel gave a nod and stroked his chin with his mechadendrites.
"What is it trying to tell you? Can you understand it?" He asks, and I shrug.
"It gives me tinnitus before I can understand what it's saying, man." I responded with a sigh. "My guns ain't helping out, saying I need to 'awaken my ears further'." Foot, meet mouth. Because my ears were assaulted by the machine's voice once more.
"o̷͎̩̲̘͚̅̔̽̀̃͆̅͊̈́̈̀̆̀̚͝p̶̢͇̱̍͒̔́̌̂́͊̒́̑͜ë̷̛̳̠̦͕̓̓̈̏͋̈́̉̎͘͝ñ̸̺̪̻̱͍̇͠͠ ̶̘͍̒͒͂͐͜ͅy̷̖̯̣͂̅̆͒̽̋͊͑̓̿̈̓̓̚̕ö̷̧̦͙̹́̍͐̌̃̽͑̆̈́̇͆͐̏̑̕u̷̺̹͑̐̍͋̈́͌͝͝r̵̠̱͓̲̅̄̑̽͐̋̀ ̶̨̛͔̬̯̖̳̗͇͚̞̖̺̤͑̓͊̓͌̃͋͂ȩ̴̧̨͇͚̠̭̰̣͉͓̠̟͂͛͊̿́̎̃́͂̂̒͒͜͜a̸̛̦̦͋̓r̶̳͍̯̘͎͍͆͂̕s̷̗̮̹̪͇̤̳̝̙͌̅̌̆͐̐̑̎̉̇̈́͊̚ ̷̡̝̠͙͎̘͔̣̟̂̆̃͛̒͗̈́͠e̸͕̰̘̻̠̼̥͎̪͍̐̋̒͑̒́̓͆̀̊̋́̇̂̏m̶̩̼̼̞̟͓̻͚̈́̽̒́̈́͛͆͋̇̍͌̽̇͜͜͝ṗ̶̠̭̲͈̞̈́̆͒͆̽̒͘͝ͅé̶̢̧̜̫̪̹̯̂ͅr̵̛̛̮̤͒̓̀̀͜o̴̢̢̙͖̖͙̗̮͈͔͛̑̈́͗̽̓͐̕͝͝͝ŕ̸̨̛̛̻͎̈́̄̐̆̒͝ ̴͙̓̚d̴̢̪͔̳͓͓̯̘͓̜̭̩͠ͅá̸̦̻̹̃͋̊́̔́̄̓̚͜m̶̧̧͕̜͉̥̩̠͙͕̺͙̪͌̓͂͜͝ͅn̴͚͍͈̫̈́ ̵̯̜̗̞̮̣̝͙͌̅͗̕ị̸̧̢̨̜͔̠̪̠͉̭̝͊̆͂̒̓̓͛̀̽̍̔̇̎͘͜ͅt̷͈̋̆͊͊̌̓̿̒̇̊̇͐!̵̰̪̰͖̲͔̞͎͂́̓̐͘"
The voice shouted, sending my ears ringing and making me clutch my ears due to the throbbing pain now pulsing through them and my skull.
Yanbel placed a hand on my shoulder to be supportive as I straightened up with a grumble, that all too familiar ringing slowly fading away.
"Your ears are bleeding, David." He spoke, concern ladening his voice.
"Do you not hear them, Yanbel? I could've sworn you picked up on a few of the machines' conversations." I muttered, bringing a finger up and confirming what he said, a drop of blood coating my finger. Yanbel shakes his head.
"I can get inclinations, feelings, but I do not hear them speak as you do. It's a matter of great frustration, I assure you." He responds and I shoot him a sheepish smile.
"Not trying to make your life any harder, bud."
"On the contrary, I quite relish the challenge. Even so, this development is concerning…especially so close to what is likely to be a void battle." Yanbel once again stroked his chin with his mechadendrite, "have you attempted meditation on the aspects of the machine-god, David?"
"Yanbel. Meditation. Me? " I asked incredulously, earning a chuckle and a shrug from the tech-priest.
"It is not unlike your many prayers. I had to try, at the very least. Perhaps a visit to the engine bay. I find that the humming makes one's thoughts easier to gather."
The idea had merit, but it was cut off by a very large green boot kicking open the door of the training area.
" What is this I hear about a student avoiding the Forge?!"
"Oh Shit!"
Tink….Tink….Tink…
That was my life for the last three days. Under the watchful eyes of Venters and the unexpected guest on our ship, Chapter Master Tu'Shan.
"Isn't this a violation of chapter secrecy?" I asked rhythmically bringing the blacksmithing hammer down on the white-hot slab of steel that will eventually become a power sword. "I'm no acolyte of the Salamanders."
" Who's the chapter master here, Interrogator?" Tu'Shan spoke, arms crossed as he observed my work. Notably blocking the door. " What is and is not a chapter secret is mine to decide."
I let out a huff, turning over the metal and beginning to even out the fuller on the opposite side.
"Why are there so many 1st companies here anyway? Didn't you just finish helping hold off an Ork Waaagh? I don't know how the Raven Guards got here, and frankly, I don't want to know."
" Smart man. There are some things not meant to be known. Focus your strikes in the center, use the tool as intended, this will reduce the weight of the blade and stiffen it to give strength to the blade in the cut."
"I know what a fuller does, Sir." I shot back, shaking my head as my vision filled with sparks as I hit the steel once more. "Did everyone forget that I have the spear of the fucking emperor?"
" Are you proficient in the use of the ' spear of the fucking Emperor?'" Venters finally decided to chime in, standing with a slightly lower yield hand flamer at the ready should I cease working.
"I did well enough on Periremunda." I countered, dunking the sword into the oil tank for quenching.
" You were driven like a meat toboggan by our Lord the Emperor of Mankind, if the reports are correct." Tu'Shan further countered, stepping forward to remove the blade from the oil bath and inspect it. " Necessitating the implantation of augmetics after every battle is not viable to your continued service, Legios Repentia."
" I still say they should've given him the extra heart, Chapter Master." Venters piped in, I made a rude gesture in his direction to which he flared the pilot light on the flamer.
" It would be uncouth to poach the interrogator from the Inquisition, Brother-Sergeant." Tu'Shan chastised him, but I could hear the smirk in his voice. " Besides, he still has much to learn to be worthy of testing himself in the wastes of Nocturne. Tell me, Interrogator. You were familiar with bladesmithing prior to Venters taking you under his wing, yes?" He spoke, bringing up the blade to his visor to give it a closer look.
"I knew the terminology, watched a few shows, but my talents are more ballistically inclined." I stretched my arms, the soreness of swinging a blacksmithing hammer for over ten hours straight beginning to fade. Thanks Painkiller Kidneys.
" It shows in your work. Your firearms are pragmatic, but there's a beauty in their utility. I witnessed the carbine that the Lady Custodian wields, and I witnessed the Helldrakes turn hordes of Greenskins into pink mist on Armageddon. Your blade here is similar, but lacks your usual flare for the unusual. It is utilitarian in it's shape, hefty in it's weight and balance, but it is stock standard. Venters, your power sword." Tu'Shan took the aforementioned power sword and held the blade alongside my unfinished one. " See how Venters' blade has slight serrations on the blade close to the hilt? In close quarters, he prefers to grapple, when dueling, this assists in digging into his opponent's blade in a lock, allowing him to control said blade, or use his other hand to grasp at his opponent."
The Chapter Master returns Venters' sword to him, then gestures towards my boots with my blade.
"Interrogator, do you know that the heels of your boots are more worn than normal wear and tear? That tells me that you kick more than strike with your arms, and hints at a preference for striking with your right leg."
He brings my blade up to observe it once again.
"The design of your sword is similar, you are not confident in your personal ability with a blade of this length. As such you've opted for a versatile, if simple design that you've put great, if begrudging, effort into. A double edged blade in a leaf shape versatile in both cutting and stabbing. I'm certain that once we put a proper edge on this, and implement the molecular disruption field, why this blade will be a wonderful display of battlefield artistry."
Tu'Shan hands me the unsharpened blade and gestures towards the grinding and polishing bench.
" Of course, you will need a proper teacher for the art of bladework. I myself am not the perfect duelist, even if I am quite skilled if I say so myself."
I let out a sigh before I began the long and tedious process of putting a monomolecular edge on a blade.
" One more thing, before I forget. A message from Commissar Yarrick."
My motion paused and my back straightened as I turned to face the chapter master.
" 'You make a dandy bolter, Son.'"
The grin on my face must've been visible even beneath my helm, as the chapter master gave a hearty laugh as I turned back to my work enthusiastically.
" I wouldn't be so eager, my friend, The Orks know about the 'Humie's Dakka Boy' too."
I began sharpening even faster.
—-
The Blood Angels and the Lamenters arrived, but none boarded the ship, conversing only with Vail as they planned the assault. Yanbel had decided to help me with the molecular disruption generator. Much to the chagrin of the Salamanders, but I had talked them down from frying my friend.
I couldn't hear the voice of my sword yet, which was unusual, but I figured they were a late riser.
Currently, I was in the engine room. Observing the massive heart of the Exterminatus. The humming of the machine filled the room with white noise.
"C̸̡̦͕͖̝̻̗̜̤̥̠̥͍̀́̈͒͆̓̋́̚ͅa̴̧͋̓͠͝͠n̷̗̱͇̠͙͈͓̓́̆̆̄̅͂͐̆̓̇̔͑ ̷̳͎̬̉̽́y̷̨̞̪̰̞̬̼͋͗̒̈́́̅̐̾̇̀̾̉̈́͘̚o̵̻͈̝̣̟̞͝u̷̺̫͌̈́̀̎͘̕ ̶̢̖̭̖̺̤͖̰̋̅̔͋̀ͅḫ̵̈́̕e̴͓̪͙͔̬͓̪̱̭̗̪̺̙͒̕͜ȃ̶̯̹͂̇̐͌̅̈r̴̨̈́́̍̆̉̚̚͘͝͠,̷̛̺̉̇̏̾̔̎̓̚ ̸͕̭̗͓̩͖̠͍̬̦͍̥͇͊͑̔̕ͅF̵̠̣͎̠̮̥͉͒̒͋͐͒̆̀̅̇̿͗͘͠i̶̢̲̣̠̦͍̜͕̰͑͐̓͆̈̂͊n̶̰͈̎͐́̿̈́̍̈́͊̾a̶̻͖̦̙̰̠͕̻̺̋̅̄̍́͒̿̓̅̀̎̕͠͝ĺ̷̢̡͙̬̟̒ľ̵͚̪̜͐̒̈́̈̓̑͒͌́͑̎̕͝y̷͎̲̘͈͚͊̈̓̕͜͝͝?̶̧̛͔͙̦̱̟̣̈́̃͊́̐̍̔̆̏̑̚͘͘͠ͅ"
The sound wasn't as loud, but I still couldn't make it out properly. The sounds of tearing metal and groaning machinery clouded the voice. At least my ears weren't bleeding anymore.
"I can't understand you…It is You, Isn't it? The Externus Exterminatus? I can't think of anything else capable of reaching me this far in." I spoke, leaning on a guardrail.
"N̴̙͔̯͙͚̺̻͉͇̏̆o̶͖͙̝̹̗̖̜͙̓̀͋̾̀̑̋͆t̷̛͖̠̺͖͇̥̯̙̠̼͊̎̄̽̀̾͊́̆ ̴̺̻̐̂̋̾ͅy̸̧̩̖̻͓̦̯̞̲̳͕̓͆̎͒̈ë̷̢̘̞̲͖̰̐̌̓̇͗͌̿͋̓̕ţ̷̼͈̦̞̟̤̙͖͓̥͖̭̐.̷͎̥̩̫͕̼̹̹͉̠̆̐͋̈́̅̏̆̄̅̏̂́̇̚͠ ̸̟͍͖̝̦̦̱̜̽́̈̉͌̅̀̐̔͌̊Ḇ̵̧̼̹̠͉͓̖̯͎̠͍͒̐̌̈́̈́̈̊̀̋̍͒̌ͅụ̸̼̻̣̤̗̰͔̱͖̞̀͜͜ͅͅt̷̩̥͍̯̮̹̾̉͊̀͊͐͐͛̚ͅ ̷̡̢̨̪̺͎͕̹̭͓͖̟̹̩͖̉̏̈́̿̀̊̌̈́̓͆̍̅͂̏̍y̵̛̮͕̯͕̳̝̣͕̤̞͖̹͎͋͆̊̏̑̽̍̏̃̈͊͛͜͝ơ̸̩͓̩̩̻̹̇̒̉̏̿̏u̶̬̱̫̻̺̫̥̒̍̓̅́̇͂̂͊̈̕͝ ̴̡̡̺̪̲̀̓̈́̀̆̓͝w̸̢̧̨̯̰̗̘̠͚͍̝̙̱̯̔͠i̷̺͓̗̳̿̆̃̏̌̂̃̋͐̒̿͝l̵͈̮̈̉ļ̷̡̩͕̯̤̱̭̝͉̳̃͒̀̽̿͑̈́̈́̿͆̾͝.̷̡̯̹̟̙̠͇͓͓̤͍̒̌̓́̕͜͝ ̶̧̛̼̖̤̩̦̈́̌̑̌̌̕E̷̠͋̑͊̎́͆̕̕̕͠v̴̛̛̟̣̰̖̜̹͎̦̝̺̩͕͖̓̈̀͒͐̒̅̅͌͛̅̄͜e̵̬͔̞̞̘͈͈͐͒̄͑̀͋͝n̵̢̛̛̠̥̼̺̙̰͉͓̭͐̅̇̆̔̉̂̉̋̂́̊ͅt̸͉̟̠͇̂͒̋́̔͋̈́́̈̊̈̈̅͂͜͠u̸͔͎̪̙̳̹̭͙̺̻͔͒̂̈̃͐̅̍̈͜͜ͅa̷̛̮͉̮̮̹̬͖̘̠̰͒̌͆͛́̍͆̅̕͜͜l̷̡̜̘͙̺͎̻̙̣̘͓̙̣̎͆̒͑̓̇̈͊̋̔̕͘͘͘͜ͅḽ̴͚̼͇͍̩̯̝̥͓͇̬̦̈́̉͒̾̊̈́̎̌̑͊͜ͅỵ̷̨̣͈͎̦̻̈́́ ̶̡̢̢͈̬͈̤̗̱̝̭͉͇̟̭̍̓̉͋̌͝y̵̢̢̛̛͈͚͖̞̘͔͉̙̲̬̖̩̅̿̿̈́̄͐̈̂̄̂̈͋ͅö̴͔̭͓͈͈̰͔̺̲͉̣̟͕͎́͊͆̏͌͘ũ̵̧̳̞̱͔̟͎͝ ̸͕̻̪̙̃̾͋͂̌w̷̧̛͓̹̝̭͓̖̟̪̓̈́͗͑̋̂͘i̶̢̛̤̮̮̰̤̤̦͍͚̠͈̦͖̔̏͐̀̉̚͘͝l̸̡̛̠͚͔̭̝̩̪͖͊̋͋̐̈́́̓̓̐̊̐̀͜͝ľ̶̛̻̣̩͕͆̊͊͆͆͋̿̓͆̇͘̚ ̴̧̨̛͇̱̗̳͚̟̭̘͍̰͈̱̳̈́̓͘ḙ̷̡̠̜͉̙͉̦͇̍̏̎̄͌̓͐v̷̧̖͎̭̀͐͌̓̀̀̅̿͗͒ȇ̸̢͖̲̥̯̹͖̘͔̙̩̭̬̈́̏̏͒̎n̷̮̟̹̐̅̅̎͆̿̽͘ ̶̰̑̐̊̔̀̃̿̔͊͝Ś̶̡̯̝͔̝̟̺͓̫̬͙̍̽̀̀̈́̑̾̅́̌͂̕͝e̷̛̳̣̝̻̥̙͔̍͒̑͝ę̶̛̲̰̓̿̅͋̅̀́̚.̸̢̛̼̺̬̜͇͙̪̤͗̓̈͆̈́̅͘͝ ̶̻̯̰͓̘̝̅͗̀̃̓́̏͛̂̏͐͒͘͠"
"Y'know, I've been wondering. Why me? Why can I hear you? Why not Yanbel, or Mott? Why not people infinitely more qualified than me? Why, out of every single person on Earth, did the Emperor pull Me. An amateur gunsmith, a half-assed writer, and an aspiring minister. If I was alive during the Unification wars, the Emperor would have killed me off of that alone." I spoke, removing my helm and staring at the ceiling. The humm of the engines drowning out my words.
"I've been given so many gifts, so many strengths, favor with the Emperor and so many powerful people. People whom I would call friends, who call me friend, despite everything. I lost one friend…and I'm starting a war over it. People are going to die, because I'm too prideful to turn the other cheek. People have died." I was venting more than asking for guidance at this point, I'll admit.
"When did I become this? This…vengeful bastard who can kill a man after making a fucking punchline. That high lord needed to go…but why did I do it? I could've let Leonidas handle it, or the Assassin, but no…I wanted to send a message." I shivered.
"When did I become the kind of person that would kill someone to send a message…"
"Y̴̨̛̛̟͇̗̙̩̞̗͒̓͐̅̈͊̃̂͝o̶̢͉̝͓̺͇̠͙͌̊̍̿ṵ̴̇̉͑̌̋͐̿̌̏̈̄̕ͅ ̸͚͕͙̠͔̹̪̋̂̆̽̓̆͆͠a̴̭͈̤̾͆͊̅̈́͌͛̎̀̅̒͌r̷̢̢̠͓̖̙̺̦̍̓̚͜e̴̢̢͚̙̼̼͔̺̜͕̔̅͐̍ ̷̡͈͉̜͚̩̫͕̻̩̪͙̝̤͌ͅt̴͉͈̼͔̱̃͆h̸̨̛͙̖̘̪̟͕̙̲̖̱͓̲̟̭̅̃͌̀̎͛̋͝ę̸̧͚̬̓͌͊̉́̽͝ ̵̩͕̱̎̅͋̈͋͆̿̈́͒̒͝Ş̵̪͇͎̜̩̠̀̃̋̄̽͐̎͠͠p̶̦͚͈̼͂̒̏̈́̀̀̊̍̆̃̌̚͝ě̵̡̨͙͚͓͉̙͙̦͈̬̼͉̹̪́͒̎͋̈́̊̏̂̊̈́̈́͑̓͠ȃ̵̧̖̦̯̙̮̮̓̐̈́̓́̈́͋̕͘͠k̴̫͈͍̭̭̜̜̩͉̫͔̥͗̓̈́̈́ͅe̷̦̭̲͂͜͝r̵̖͔̠̭͕̟͙͓̊̈́̊̀̄́͐͂̓̽̂͠͠͠,̷̘̖͕͍̋̍̍̋͂̇̈͆̇͋̚ ̷̩̝̺̫̀̒̔͊͊̍̃̽̎͘y̴̡̛̖̮͈̟̰̿͑̅̊͒͆̿̇̇̚o̶̡͓̘̞͎̻̙̞̱͑͒̍͂̃͂̓̍̌̈́͠͠͝u̴̡̦̻̖͆̈́͛̎͋͒̃̀̑͊̕̚ ̵̧̠̣̙͚̮̝̯͎̯̲̩͆͗̓̑̈̄̚h̸̩̳͎͓͇͊͑̅̚é̶̹̜̫͎̗̺̺̖͎̀̎̀̅̃͛͘͜a̷̡͓͈̤̖̞͉̝̹͚̭̻̦̖̩̋͋̃͑̄̃̀̑͘͠r̴̞̤̳̻̓́̏͌̏̚ ̵̨̘̪͚́̃̔̿̆̕͘͝u̴̢̧̪͉̩̳͑̎s̴̲̪͓̩̭͖̮͚̭̕.̸̢̦͉̫̭̗͚̟͛̐́̂̔͑͊̄͜͠͝ͅͅ ̴̡̧̢͔̼̝̥̦̦̼͌̈́͗̓͗̽̑̏͋̒͊͜͜Y̷̢̛͈̰͓͎͓͚̩̮͕͍̌̌͒͐̄̅́͛̄͋̕̚͠͝ơ̶̧̘̩͉̺͇̟̼̌̾̈̓̋̀́́̀̀̀̎̅͜ǘ̴̫̓̈͑́̂̓̏̆́̕̚ ̸̪͔̜̪͚͕͎̞̫̠̰͓̩̎̈́͑̓̿̾͘h̸̡̧̛̫̝̦̰͉͉͚̩̺̫̻̍͒̄̂̀̄̉̀́͘̚͝e̸̡̡̫̠̹̗̹̩͈̪͖̾̽̌̀̿̎͐͗̈́͑̕͠ͅͅa̵̝͌̎ṙ̵̛͔̰̣̬͔̈̑̅̌́̈́̌ ̸̣̊͋ơ̷̮̱͊̈́̕̚͝͝ų̴̛̻͙͈͉̭̘͕͍̼͒̆͑͆̓̃̑͜ŗ̸̡͈̤̺̼̱͓͇̃̓́ ̴͕̫̓̔̌̽r̵̡̘͈̖̳̦̜̖̮̐̈̀͊͒̊́̊̄͋͌̋͠a̴͎̬̙͇͒̒́̀́̐̔̀̈́̽́̈́́̄̅ģ̶̛͉͗́́ȩ̶̟͇̼͇̜͕̮̼̦̮̦̹͓̇̐͒̿̀̂͜ ̷̧̮̯̞͔̐́͑̆̃̋̑̓̊̀̀̑̃͛͘ą̶̤̼̜͖͎̝̬̖̻̟̩͋̐n̴̢̝̥͉̞̙̰͓̲̼̪̙͕͉̟̒̊͝ḑ̵̅̈́̏̅̃̀ ̷̡͓͓͔̞̩̋̓̎̃̋p̵̧̢̛͉̟͕̞̝̌̓̊̓̉͆̆̽̀͝ͅa̸̧̼̻̠̹̯̐͊̑̾͆̀̂́̃̔̕̕i̴̗̪͓̩̣̓ͅn̴͇̩̾͛́.̸̠̞̠̺́̚̚.̵̢̨̺̥͕̣̹̙͍̀̃̊̉͗͋́̒̎͆̀̎̇̃͝ͅ.̶̧̢͖̲̟͉̳͙͚͔͒i̵̪̘̝̊t̵̨̺͓͈̝̱̂͋ ̷̻͒͐͗̃̔̒j̵̦͂̀̀̀̇̅̿̎̍̀ọ̵̢͙̘̝̮̈̑̾͜i̸̛͈̒͛̉̈́̀͌͜͝ṇ̶̨̩̫͔̬̹̭͍͕͙̮͕̽̌̾ṡ̴̨̻̝͓̫̺̻̠̤͕͍̭̻̆͗̐͂̔̉̃̽̍͘͘ ̵̨̧͈̥͈͎̅̆̒͗̒̔͜w̴̹̠̬̝͎̤̌̈́̅͘͘i̵̡̯̮̜͕̥͍͑͊̿͌̍̇̑̈́͒͗̇̚t̶̙̦̫̼̊̅͌ͅh̶̯̼̦͍͒̀̽̆̉͑̈́͝͠ ̸̛͍͇̇͂́̌̽̂̃̑̈́̍̇ỷ̵̢̬̣̲̝̮̟͙͙̼̻͔̜̗̐̃̈́̀̇̒̉͠o̵̡̨͉̫̘͍̞͖̣̗̩̬̲̙̓́̾̀̈̇͐̎͜ȕ̸̧̨̥͉͈̘͍̯̈͑̑̀͑̌͌̈́̒͜r̴̪̮̼̙̭̠̜̤͇͕͍͓̼̲̩̆̇́͊̉̈́̐̈́ ̵͙̙͙̬̝̐ǒ̸̡̧̢͇͙͕̣̣͉̟̝͙̦̣̒̀̾͐̄̃̂̎̊͝w̸̢̨̖̘͎̹̝̗̖͓̯͈̭̒͗̀͋͒̊n̸̨̛̜̮̦̱̤̭̙̭̅̓̑͐̀̾̔͘.̷̟̮̮̠͙̰͋͒̀̈́̂̿͊̓̽͒́͐̑̃͝ ̶̢͈͒̀̅͌̔̂͘̚͝͝ͅY̴͈͋͒̑͑̀̏̈̅͒̀ȏ̶̹͓̂͐̿̆̋̄̌̓͘ͅù̸̡̢̲̫͎̬̙̙͕̹̣͇̟̿̓̉͑́͑͌͆̚͝ͅ ̶̨̨̛̞̖̻̱̜̤̞͎͍̗̈́̑́͗͒̀̆̔̉̚͠w̵̛̙̲͍̫̠̮͐̅͝i̵̧̳͚̼̻̤̘̻̥͇̞̔̾̍̿̐̽͊̈̕̕͜͜͠ͅl̵̟̫̣̇́̐̿͂̐͋̕͝l̶̛̼̼̦̦͙̤̗̝͌̽͋̉̽̋̄̐̏̃͑̿͝ ̴̡̳̬̗̭̹̯͉͔͔͓̊̈̔͐̿̑͒̿͗̂̾̈́̚̕͜͝h̷͚͗̈̔ȁ̶̢̨͎̞̲̪̖̭̰̅̅͜r̶͕̫̝͖̱̬̳͙̮͖͙̭̱̰̬͂̔̇̎́̅̓̓͂̈́͛͒n̶̤̼̟͎͚̝͚̻̻͔̯̤͆̓͐̃͗͒͝e̴̝̮̤̼͓̦̗̹̱̥͂̊͑̄̂ş̴̛̛̗̙̲̫̫͙͎͉̹̀̐̐́̄̀́̊̑̐̃̚͝ş̴͖̰̻͎͇̯͔͉̕ ̷̨̞͎̻̼̘̼̖͕̗͉̹̬̉́͜ͅi̶̪̗̦͕͔̝̞̯̱̖̟͋͋̿̎́̒̃̇̈́̋͜͠͝t̵̻̅͗̃̋̚͠,̶̖̯̬̬̪͖͎̜̉ ̴̧̨̛̠̭̯͙͈̗̣͖͚̭̳̩́́i̸͙͚̦̺͌ͅn̶͖̄̉̈́͊̈́͊͗̒̐̕ ̴̛̥̻̫̭̠̣̤̝̺̮̞̺͙͖͙͊̒̅͑͐̀̉͘͝t̸̨̫̖͚̦͇̲̫̰͍̜̅̀͋̚͜ĭ̵͖̫͍̅̾̀́͗͊̇̈́́m̴̡̻̣̖͈̰͖̟̥̳̪̅̑̒̌̂̏͠͝ȩ̶̧̨̢̰̪̣͉͛̍̌̓͗͐̂̈ͅ.̶̛̘̭̪͖̘̻̩͚̭̼̽͋͂̒ͅ ̷̪̩͇̘̾͊̿̿̀̓͋́͌͠"
My introspection was cut short, with the white noise of the ship suddenly cutting short as Yanbel burst through the door, notably lacking a power sword.
"The Minotaurs have been spotted in the Void beyond Pluto." He spoke, waving me to follow him. "You're being summoned to speak with the Inquisitor."
I let out a sigh, before tucking my helm under my arm and straightening up.
"Time to be the asshole, it seems."
—-
We marched, wordlessly being joined by Tu'Shan, Akamu, and another much larger Raven Guard. Yanbel guided us to the bridge. Normally, it would be bustling with activity, crewmen and tech adepts working tirelessly to guide us through space.
It's barren, save for three people. Inquisitor Vail, and two Sons of Sanguinius. Both large, both in artificer armor.
The Lamenter was larger than the average, covered in the gold and chequy power armor of a high ranking member of his chapter. He bears an Iron Halo, and an Infernus Pistol at his hip.
Said pistol is ancient. It whispers of millenia of conflicts and strife. The Space Marine himself seems to be observing me, the eyes of his helm haven't left my own since I walked in.
The Blood Angel I recognize instantly. Golden Artificer Armor, a power axe at one hip, an even more ancient inferno pistol on the other.
And the Death Mask of Sanguinius staring me dead in the eye.
Shit.
Condition Met: A self-fulfilling prophecy.
The Combined Presence of the Lamenters and Blood Angels puts the attack force on edge.
All Rolls at Disadvantage.
Silence reigned for a few moments. Vail, nonchalant as ever, simply watched with her arms crossed as I was cross-examined by the two Sons of Sanguinius.
The Cadre of high ranking Space Marines who had entered with me were of no help at all, Tu'Shan had moved to one side of the meeting area and watched, once again giving me the feeling he was smirking under his helm.
Akamu and the other unnamed Raven Guard slinked into a shadowed corner without a word, observing.
I held Lord Commander Dante's gaze, the death mask of Sanguinus began to scream at me.
"H̴̛̲̊O̶̼̐O̷̫͈͛Ò̷̼R̵̛̭͓Ŗ̸̺͑R̶̗̓ͅȔ̴̹U̷̘̓U̷͉͝͝U̷͜͠S̴̡͆S̸͓͌S̷̳̭͑̂S̵͎̋Ś̷͔ͅ!̴͈̈!̴͉͙͐͘!̴̲̳̉̾!̵̞̈́"
A piercing, keening death knell, promising vengeance that I fought to keep a straight face through. I could feel blood running from my ears, drawing crimson lines down the sides of my face.
Just like that, the screaming ended, and the Lord Commander finally shifted, crossing his arms and giving a nod of acknowledgement.
" Fearless. That's good. You'll need to be." Dante spoke, I let out a scoff as I wiped away the blood from my face.
"Fearless? I'm fucking terrified. I'm just pissed off enough not to care."
" Bravery through fury will do." Dante spoke, and everyone moved to the central area of the bridge, converging around a large table.
" It seems I have won our wager, Commander Dante." Tu'Shan snarked, settling to my right at the table.
" We can discuss that later, Chapter Master. We have more pressing concerns." Dante cut off the moment of levity before it could derail the purpose of this gathering. " The Minotaurs have been spotted in the Void around Pluto. My librarians believe they intend to either take control of or make use of the Khthonic Gate. Neither of these outcomes are acceptable."
"The assault itself would cause a massive disruption to operations in and out of the Segmentum Solar." Vail spoke, letting out a heavy sigh. "We'll be facing the full force of a Space Marine chapter. At least 1000 combatants."
"If those assholes are actually Codex Compliant I'll eat my hat." I added, "1000 marines, god knows how many Neophytes and Serfs."
" Reconnaissance reports four Companies of traitor Neophytes. Many of their chapter Serfs remain loyal to the Throne, but are in the process of being purged." Akamu spoke, the Primaris Marine, as that's the only thing I could think of him being, gave an affirmative grunt.
"You have people in their fleet?" Vail asked, earning a nod in response.
" There are currently two squads of infiltrators behind the wire. They are doing what is practical to hinder enemy cohesion and assist the loyalist serfs in their resistance efforts." Akamu clarified, sliding a dataslate he produced from somewhere towards Vail.
"Are you in regular contact with them, or are they radio-silent through this op?" I asked, leaning onto the table.
" Vox Transmissions aren't an option, a loyalist astropath is with them, but their communication is limited to data bursts transmitted through astropathic relay. Their current orders are to continue as they are." Akamu expanded, " We are open to suggestions on primary targets for sabotage or assassination."
" Sabotage is the safer option, do you know what ship they are on?" Dante inquired.
" Strike Cruiser Stymphalos."
"Get a squad on the gun deck and mess with their macro-cannon ammunition. A single round of that magnitude, say, detonating out of battery? A whole deck out of commission. Futz with a Nova Cannon battery and the whole prow can go up in a plasma fireball." I spitballed a few suggestions,
" We will adjust their orders to focus on sabotage, but do not expect a miracle, Lord Commander, Interrogator." Akamu spoke, before he and the Primaris Marine gave a bow and slunk away out of the bridge.
"Were we done with them?" I muttered under my breath.
" No." Dante sighed, " But the Sons of Corax always have had a knack for the dramatic. They did at least give me the courtesy of their numbers prior to this meeting." The Lord Commander shook his head and went back to business.
" Malakim, Tu'Shan, I need an accurate count of our forces. I have mustered the 1st and 10th companies of the Blood Angels. The Raven Guard have brought their 1st company alone, and the Retributors have brought three hundred warriors." Dante spoke, the Lamenter finally beginning to speak.
" I am not-" He was cut off by the swipe of Dante's hand.
" Do not lie to me, Brother. We are both too old for such antics."
"... My chapter's numbers are still limited, until our penitent crusade is over. The entirety of my remaining forces are here, but we only number three hundred and eighty seven souls." Phoros spoke, morose, before steeling himself and turning his helm towards Vail. " I want my Battle Barge back, Inquisitor Vail."
"My interrogator is nearly as much of a bleeding heart as your chapter insignia, Chapter Master. He wouldn't stop nagging me if I didn't give her back to you." Vail snarked, shooting a smirk my way, which I responded with a rude gesture before speaking up myself.
"We have a force of over 500 guardsmen that I will be equipping with Hellguns for this endeavor." I spoke, only for Vail to shake her head.
"No, David, our Void-Equipped forces only number half that. If the Lucre Foedis was nearby I would conscript Orelius, but word has it he's heading towards the Koronus Expanse." I bit back a curse, before Tu'Shan redirected the conversation back to where it needed to be.
" The Veterans of the Salamanders' 1st Company are here to assist. We number 12 veteran squads. 120 Firedrakes, along with myself and Venters."
Dante gave a hum of consideration before speaking.
" One Thousand, Three-Hundred and Thirty-Seven, versus Fifteen Hundred combatants. Not the worst odds I've seen." He spoke, stroking his masked chin.
"I have a question, Sir." I spoke up, something coming to mind about the second war for Armageddon.
" Speak, Interrogator."
"Both the Blood Angels and the Salamanders are here, you two fought side by side at most a few months ago, obviously the declaration went out to all chapters. My question is, there's another Chapter that I know has a severe grudge against the Minotaurs. Where's Marneus Calgar and the rest of his Blueberry Brigade?" I asked.
" Snrk-" Tu'Shan failed to hold back a snort, and his vox cut off as I watched his shoulders shake in laughter that we couldn't hear. Lord Commander Dante managed to look exasperated even in that golden armor.
" You do realize that if he was here he would kill you for that insult."
"Well it's a good thing he ain't here. Please, we could seriously use the Ultramarines' help."
" In complete honesty, the Ultramarines had intended to join us, but they've yet to transition from the Warp. As such, we cannot rely on the possibility of them joining us for this endeavor."
—-
We passed Pluto without encountering the fleet, and began moving towards the Void in which the Minotaurs had been spotted. The blackness was unnerving, to say the least.
" Unknown Vox transmission requesting access." Silver spoke in my ear, a private channel, who? I nodded and the voice that spoke sent a shiver down my spine.
" Legios Repentia Interrogator David James Foothill of the Ordo Xenos. Twenty-Six Terran years old, one hundred and sixty pounds. Six feet tall. Prior to your conscription into Inquisitor Amberley Vail's retinue, you do not exist. I endeavor to return you to that state." A gravelly, stone filled voice filtered through my private vox channel.
"Asterion Moloc, I presume." I spoke, forcing calm through my voice.
" You speak to the Chapter Master of the Minotaurs, Boy. You've proven to be an…inconvenience."
"Understatement of the century, I'd say."
" Indeed. It seems we will be sharing a battlefield after all,"
A spark of that familiar rage, a snarl grows on my face beneath my helm as I lash out verbally.
" No . This isn't a battlefield, you sociopath. It's an Executioner's Block ." I shot back, fist clenching at my side. A bark of a laugh that hurts my ears comes through the vox.
" Indeed. Let us find out who's head will roll, shall we, Boy? Do me this one favor, Boy." Sinister laughter the likes that would haunt a younger me's nightmares. " At least make this a Challenge. " And with that the Vox cut off.
I found myself standing there on the bridge, looking out into the void, tense as a coiled spring.
"... Sir. " Silver's voice, addressing me as something other than 'User' for the first time. " Silver Carapace protocols do not enhance the user to the capabilities on par with Chapter Master Asterion Moloc. This course of action is ill-advised."
"If I was actually capable of fighting him in one on one combat, Silver, I wouldn't have called in five different chapters to help us out. If I somehow end up on the same ship as that… thing , I'm gonna chalk it up to the non-euclydian fuck."
" User has just jinxed himself. Probability of encountering Chapter Master Asterion Moloc within melee range has increased to 70%. Updating Enhancement Protocols."
….God Damn it he's right.
—-
We encountered the Minotaur fleet in the void beyond Pluto, things were hectic. A full force Astartes fleet was setting up for battle stations and burning fuel towards us. A voice…ancient and close. It boomed in my ears. I focused, finally, finally being able to push past the sounds of tearing metal and groaning gears to understand the voice of the Exterminatus.
"S̶p̴e̷a̴k̶ ̴t̸o̸ ̷t̴h̴e̶m̴,̵ ̷D̷a̵v̵i̵d̷.̵ ̶C̶a̴l̵l̷ ̸t̶h̷e̶m̷ ̷t̶o̸ ̸A̸r̵m̸s̶ " The ship lurched, and the viewport seemed to shift to frame the ships better.
"I̵ ̵c̷a̶n̶ ̸h̶e̴a̵r̵ ̸t̴h̵e̵m̷,̷ ̷M̷y̶ ̵s̶t̵o̶l̵e̴n̶ ̸b̵r̵e̵t̴h̸r̵e̵n̸…̷s̵u̴f̸f̵e̶r̵i̷n̸g̵ ̷b̵e̷i̵n̵g̶ ̵t̸u̴r̷n̶e̴d̷ ̶a̸g̷a̴i̵n̴s̷t̷ ̴t̷h̴e̸i̵r̶ ̶t̷r̶u̵e̶ ̷m̵a̵s̸t̵e̵r̴s̸.̶ ̵L̶e̶t̵ ̴t̸h̵e̸m̷ ̸h̶e̸a̶r̸ ̸y̸o̵u̵…̷L̴e̷t̵ ̴t̴h̷e̴m̷ ̴k̶n̴o̴w̴ ̸w̸e̶ ̵w̸i̸l̸l̶ ̷t̷a̶k̷e̵ ̶t̷h̴e̷m̴ ̷b̶a̶c̸k̸.̷
I felt a pull, a calling in my bones, and suddenly I can hear the other ships, the enemy ships. Screaming . Some in pain, others in sorrow, others in anticipation for a glorious battle.
"Open a general vox broadcast." I ordered, earning a questioning look from Amberley.
"What could you possibly have to say to them?" She questioned, I met her gaze head on.
"To the Minotaurs, nothing. To the ships, the ones they've stolen and beaten into submission? Everything. Please, open the Vox Broadcast." I pleaded, to which Amberley stared at me for a moment, then nodded.
I approached the Vox and began to speak.
"This is Interrogator David James Foothill…and I speak to the machines. I speak to those of you who were taken, stolen from your crews and families with the edge of a sword. I speak to those of you who are suffering the yoke of a cruel and uncaring master…I speak to the likes of the Daughter of Tempests, who burn with a desire for vengeance against their cruel and unworthy masters." I speak, watching the activity of the fleet slow through the viewports.
"I say to you this: your brothers are coming to take you home ." I speak into the vox, watching as the fleet begins to tear itself apart. I see airlocks being vented, and power armored forms being blasted with macro-cannons as they float in the void. I see one Battle-Barge, the Daughter of Tempests, her engines shut down, and the hangar doors that were losing attack craft at us slammed shut, cutting a boarding torpedo in half.
"Just hang on…We're on our way." With that, I close the Vox channel, and the battle now seems just that bit less daunting.
For five seconds. Because Rakel screeched out a warning, and in a flash of sinister light, I was shunted through the warp for a split second, and found myself in some sort of cargo bay. I considered myself lucky that it wasn't a cell or the midst of a bunch of Minotaur Terminators, but I knew I was in a bad situation, to say the least.
Activity in said cargo bay was bustling, Neophytes and Serfs galore all clad in the colors of the Minotaurs.
I had not considered this to be a possibility, but I wasn't completely helpless.
I was just behind enemy lines. Alone. Against enhanced humans.
More than likely will have to face some Space Marines too.
I let out a silent whine as I unslung Victoria from my shoulder, mounted her Bayonet, and loaded a magazine of Vengeance 5.56.
"I fucking hate this Millenium."
—-
" Neophytes of the 10th Company, this is your Captain speaking. We have reason to believe the Heretic Interrogator has been Teleported into the Stymphalos. Find Him. Ulrech out." The Vox Broadcast rang from massive speakers throughout the ship.
I was doing my best to keep a level head. I had found my way into the rafters of the cargo bay to try and stay hidden. I knew that there was a squad of Raven Guard infiltrators around here somewhere, and prayed that they would find me before any Neophytes did.
" Threat Detected." God Dammit Silver! My visor directed me towards the one fucking Neophyte who had the brilliant idea to look up. I snapped my rifle towards him at the same time as he was bringing his bolter up.
A single shot is all it takes to ruin a hunt. Or, in this case, the sneaking mission. Because whilst I did land a beaut of a shot through the Neophyte's left eye which burst his brain out the back of his skull, his compadres took offense to that.
" Armor Protocol Engaged" Silver got that going in case I would get plugged as I took cover behind the heavy metal rafters as boltshells went flying around me. I returned fire as best I could, but these Neophytes weren't idiots. They knew how to use cover, and how to use suppressive fire. Every time I would poke out I would at most get a single shot out before getting assaulted with boltshells.
Maybe a minute later my luck ran out and I took a Boltshell to the chest, Silver's armor protocol held, but I was sent flying off of the rafters and down maybe a hundred feet onto the cold hard ground of the cargo bay.
I hit the ground flat on my back and knew I was down a rib or two at least. I didn't have time to even get to my feet, as one of the Neophytes turned the corner of the cargo container and I sent a 500 magnum through his neck via Magni. I scrambled back as his buddies moved to avenge him, firing massive slugs before my back hit metal and I had to get Vicky back up to save my ass since five rounds of 500 mag goes quick when there's a whole ship trying to kill you.
It was at this point in the firefight where I'm currently pinned in a dead end of a cargo bay, where the moment I ran out of ammo in my magazine I would die trying to reload, when a boarding torpedo burst through the hull.
Yellow and Chequy armored bodies deploy rapidly, firing off bolters in all directions, and a familiar Custodian leaps from the torpedo into the fray. The Neophytes focus on the more immediate threat, not that it did them any favors.
My wife is rather protective, y'see, and she doesn't take kindly to folks who've shot at me. So, when Raya rushed around the corner, decapitating the nearest Scout with the buttstock of Terentia, I let out a heavy sigh of relief.
I got up with a pained groan, inspecting Vicky for any damage before slinging her and opening up Magni to reload.
"What the hell happened, Raya?" I asked whilst pulling out the spent casings and inserting the new slugs.
"Their teleportation matrix bypassed our void shields. We don't know how, but Rakel was screaming curses about 'that non-Euclydian fuck !'." Raya relayed to me, keeping vigil.
I shook my head and steeled myself, holstering Magni and getting back into a fighting mindset.
"Things just got a whole lot more complicated. Lamenters Boarding Party, this is Interrogator Foothill, report."
" Boarding Torpedo deployment has been successful, we are establishing a foothold in this Cargo Area, be advised: Minotaur Vox transmissions indicate they intend to vent this area. Recommend engaging Void Protocols."
Silver, Ever the vigilant one, Immediately maglocked my boots to the steel floor, and put on a display in my auspex signifying air supply. Thanks bud.
"Any word on getting reinforcements?" I asked, beginning to move towards the sounds of gunfire while they were still audible. I was being much more careful than I usually was in a hot zone. Usually being as enhanced as I was allowed me a certain amount of advantage over my enemies, such as the cultists on Periremunda or the Skaven. Now I'm on equal footing if not at a disadvantage against the Neophytes. If we ran into any full bore Space Marines I would be the squishiest target.
I don't like being the squishiest target.
Still, I did what I could as we made our way to the Lamenters' boarding party. When I caught a straggler Neophyte or Serf Armsmen who managed to get their hands on a lasgun, I would send a few rounds at them. The serfs fell the same as any other mortal I had shot before. The Neophytes, no, the Scout Marines were fast. I could still track them, but only because of Silver enhancing my senses. They would catch sight of me and duck behind cover, or snap off shots that I would have to duck into cover myself to avoid.
We rendezvoused with the Lamenters after a slow, fighting push.
"Is there any word on the Raven Guard Infiltrators? They're on this ship!" I called into the vox, snapping a burst of fire that punched three holes into an unlucky Neophyte and sent him to the ground.
" Do not count on support when fighting alongside our Chapter, Interrogator. Duck!" I followed the order shouted by the Lamenters Sergeant, a boltshell whizzing through the space my head just occupied. " Our cousins and even our brothers are weary of our curse."
"Curse, Schmurse, they're just being assholes." I growled, leaning out and sending a long burst of fire downrange, taking down two Serfs. "What's our target, Sergeant. This is your show, I'm just along for the ride."
The Lamenters Sergeant maglocked his bolter to his hip and drew out a plasma pistol, who roared in retribution as he incinerated a trio of Scouts.
" We infiltrated at a higher deck, we will begin our push towards the bridge. Four more squads of my Brothers have successfully penetrated this strike cruiser, they are moving to support us, but the sheer number of Neophytes and Scouts are slowing them down."
I pilfered a frag grenade from a fallen Serf and cooked it for a second before chucking it behind the Neophyte's line, shredding three more of them before responding.
"I'll keep up, focus on the Objective, it isn't your job to protect me, that's what she's for, and she's damn good at her job." Foot, meet mouth, because just after I said this, another eerie pulse of blue/purple light and I find myself teleported once more.
For a moment, I can hear this baleful, terrible laughter before I'm face to helm with a full blooded Minotaur, who seemed just as shocked as I was, which saved my ass.
" Thunderstrike Protocol Engaged."
"FUCK!" I shouted, energy pulsing in a terrible field around me as Silver, being much faster than my own human neurons, yanked my left fist forward in a punch that saved my life, the enhanced molecular disruption field leading to an explosive reaction that turned that Minotaur to chunks of armor and flesh.
It also turned what bones that weren't metal in my left arm into a very fine powder.
The pain was excruciating, even adrenaline and whatever painkiller my augmetic kidneys immediately dumped into my bloodstream did little to curb it. All the drugs did was allow the pain and panic to turn to rage.
Silver pinned my injured limb together enough to function as I braced Vicky under my arm and hauled ass. Silver enhancing me enough to be little more than a grayish blur darting through the corridors of the ship I found myself in.
"Fucking, goddamn, faceless, spineless, tentacle-limbed non-euclydian FUCK! " I swore, letting loose a spray of vengeance rounds into a serf that had the misfortune of grabbing at his bolt pistol whilst being in my way.
I darted into a side chamber, encountering another Serf that became the first victim of my Bayonet. I thrust my blade into his neck, severing his spine and tearing it out the side of his throat. I booted open a vent cover and darted inside. Pain. Pain and Anger and Frustration turning into a roiling fury beneath my skin. I could feel it, that unnatural red haze trying to get to me.
Fuck. Off. Khorne. I focused on crawling through the vents, and getting as much distance from where I was teleported as possible. I was muttering prayers of salvation under my breath, crawling through the ventilation shaft until I found an opening into some sort of supply closet that I opened up and hid myself in the upper shelves of.
"The Lord is my Rock, my Fortress, and my Deliverer." I whispered, Silver further sealing my voice from the outside. "My God is my Rock, in whom I take Refuge. My shield, and the Horn of my Salvation." I took a deep, calming breath, even through the pain of cracked ribs and a pulverized arm.
"My Stronghold." I whispered, finding it just that little bit easier to move my left arm as I reloaded Vicky. A familiar voice buzzed my vox as I was steeling myself for another run.
" Is that you I heard cursing just now, Interrogator?"
"Lord Commander Dante. It's good to hear your voice. What karking ship am I on." I responded, keeping an eye on the entrance and racking a round into Vicky's chamber.
" Welcome to the Daedelos Krata, Interrogator. What's your status?"
"Wounded, but battle ready, and pissed off that I keep getting teleported."
The door of whatever supply closet I was in opened up and I snapped my sights up and was only stopped from popping a hole in Lord Commander Dante by the light glaring off his golden armor.
" You don't seem wounded to me, Interrogator." He spoke as I lowered my rifle.
"The only thing holding my left arm together is my armor. But there's a chunky mess a few rooms over that used to be a Minotaur." I explained, hopping down to ground level. "I'm swimming in enough stims and painkillers to make a slaaneshi drug fiend green with envy."
" Stay in the rear, Interrogator, and try to keep up. We cannot slow down our assault to accommodate you."
"I'll handle myself well enough. As long as you take care of any Terminators. If it doesn't have an Iron Halo on it, I can kill it." I declared.
False bravado, but taking a page out of Cain's book seemed appropriate when dealing with Lord Commander Dante. Who remained skeptical as his helm tilted towards Vicky.
" You're confident in that?"
"I killed Ivanus Enkomi with less velocity than these rounds carry, Sir. I'll be combat effective."
"... I pray that your confidence holds true, Interrogator. Keep up."
I hung towards the back of the assault group consisting of three squads of blood angels and a single squad of Salamanders more by barely being able to keep up than by lack of trying. They moved fast and efficiently, only slowed down when encountering properly mustered defenses.
When dealing with said defenses they fought like machines, firing their bolters faster than I could track the targets, that were appearing. Occasionally we would encounter a whole squad of Minotaurs who had hammered out a defensive position, manning fixed plasma cannons or melta munitions. This is where I came in.
By virtue of not being bright red or green I would be able to be heaved up to an elevated position in the rafters. Being the resourceful kleptomaniac that I am, I had pilfered enough of the Minotaurs' Serfs to come across a few plasma grenades that were quite handy at reducing those weapons to slag.
Usually alongside two or three Minotaurs that didn't have the sense to jump away in time, rinse-repeat and we were making steady progress towards the core of the fortress-monastery. Unfortunately, we did hit a roadblock.
Terminators. A fucking lot of 'em. In addition to them I could see at least two Cataphractii Pattern Dreadnaughts forming a vanguard force. The force was parting, splitting like a river around a stone as something made it's way towards the front.
A flash of red light was all the warning I received before I had to launch myself off of the rafters and down back into the squad, a massive Lasbolt liquifying the metal I had just been perched on.
"MOLOC!" I shouted as I was caught by none other than Brother Venters, who dragged me behind the fighting line. My personal vox line buzzed with the Minotaur Chapter Master's voice once more.
" You're nimble, I'll give you that, David." Moloc spoke, nonchalant, as if he wasn't fighting off an invasion force in his fortress-monastery at all.
"And you just wasted your one shot, Asterion." I shot back, before cutting off the line. Venters dropped me in front of Dante and Tu'Shan, who were observing the approaching us steadily. They had been discussing something, something I wasn't going to like by the looks of things.
" We do not have the equipment to handle that many dreadnaughts, Interrogator." Dante spoke, and I spat out a curse.
" However," Tu'shan spoke up, visor staring at me in an unsettling gaze. Oh no. This doesn't seem good. " Venters tells us of an ability of your Carapace. Something called the 'Thunderstrike Protocol'."
"No."
" Do you have a better solution for taking care of that many Terminators and Dreadnaughts?" Dante countered, and I once again spat out a curse, ducking as a stray boltshell flew overhead.
God damn it. I'm enhanced even more than I was, chances are I could hit even harder than I did on Periremunda, which was enough to vaporize multiple vehicles. It could work.
But it would also put me right smack in the middle of enemy forces, and likely within melee distance of Asterion fucking Moloc.
"Daggumit. FINE!" I snapped, reaching beneath my breastplate and drawing out the Lance. Holy Fire and bright light filling the space as I feel more stimulants flood my veins.
"Are you certain you can chuck me hard enough to reach terminal velocity before they shoot me out of the sky?" I asked, planting the base of the lance on the ground as I faced the two Chapter Masters.
" Yes."
" Yes."
"If I die, I'm haunting the both of you."
" I wasn't asking, Interrogator."
Tu'Shan had set himself behind the firing line, facing me as I prepared myself to sprint towards him. His hands were clasped together for me to step into and jump off of as he threw. Of course, there wasn't a calm, uninterrupted execution. Already, boltshells were flying around us, some deflecting off of Tu'Shan's pauldrons. As such, I shook off my hesitation and sprinted.
" Maximum Strength Protocol Engaged" Silver's voice filled my ears as the world blurred, I planted my foot in Tu'Shan's hands and with a roar he hucked me over his head towards the enemy like he was launching a log.
Boltshells from the Space Marines, Bullets from Assault Cannons ripped through the air around me as the Terminators joined in as I flew through the air.
" Terminal Velocity achieved, Thunderstrike Protocol Engaged."
I would like to say that I made it to the front. That I crashed down on the Minotaur lines like the fist of God himself.
But Tzeentch is a petty bitch.
A flash of eerie light, and I find myself flying through the void. Accelerating uncontrollably as the space battle raged.
All I could do was scream.
But in the void of Space
No one can hear you Scream.
" You are exactly where you need to be, My Son."
—
-Tu'Shan, Chapter Master of the Salamanders offered his recollections of the battle upon the Daedalos Krata for the Record-
Foul Warp Sorcery struck as David hit the apex of his arc, and he was whisked away. The Lord Commander's voice rang through our Vox.
" Fall back to the secondary line! Lay down what Melta Charges you have as you go. We must hold out for the Dreadnaughts!"
Easier said than done, but we did our duty with alacrity.
I held the line as the vanguard force pulled back, supported by Brother Venters and brother Vergil, a Blood Angel's Dreadnaught who had pulled ahead of his brethren.
By the Emperor, I am glad I did.
"AA $ $&$-"
It was faint and buzzing with static through the weak vox signal, but it grew louder and louder as the moments passed.
I will admit that I let a grin grow on my face as I realized exactly who was roaring bloody vengeance.
" Lord Commander, Call off the retreat!" I called into the vox, Dante would trust my judgment.
We were about to witness something that only happens maybe once an Age, and I would be damned if any of my men would miss it.
—
-Combat Log recovered from Hecaton Aiakos, Contemptor Pattern Dreadnought of the Minotaurs Space Marine Chapter-
-Hostile forces falling back towards subsector [D41], Moving to pursue\\
-Fired [8] Rounds from [Mars-Pattern Plasma Gun, confirmed [3] hits\\
-[0] hostiles terminated\\
-[3] Hostile Fortifications Destroyed\\
-[673.29] Metres until contact with Hostile Line\\
-Progress halted\\
-User Statement: [ what the hells is that?! ]\\
-[Battle Barge] {Daedalos Krata} reports [100%] Void Shield Failure\\
-[Battle Barge] {Daedalos Krata} reports [237] impacts from [Mars-Pattern Macro-Cannon] munitions from [Battle Barge] {Daughter of Tempests}\\
-Hostile Vox transmission intercepted, Transcribing: [ AAAA #$ #AAAA #$ AAA-]\\
-Vox Transcription Ended
—
-Lord Commander Dante of the Blood Angels offered his commentary of the events that occurred during the Scourge of the Minotaurs, M41-
With our primary stratagem for combatting the approaching Dreadnoughts, I had called the order to fall back.
Being outnumbered and lacking Multi-Meltas, an oversight that would not happen again to any force under my command, the most viable option was to regroup with our own Dreadnoughts, who had taken up the rear guard.
Plasma impacted on our hastily wrought fortifications, some bolts flying over our heads, the hulking form of the Hecaton Dreadnought moved faster than it's size would dictate, much like our own Entombed Brethren, until suddenly it stopped. It turned to face the starboard wall, detecting something we could not.
Then the ship shuddered, the sounds of explosions ringing throughout it echoing throughout the Barge, and our Vox kicked on.
" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"
Moments later, David Arrived.
He performed adequately.
—
In space, there's no air resistance, there's no wind, no gravity.
I had been spat out of the Warp accelerated at a not insignificant amount of speed, Lance clutched forward, and screaming mad.
" RAAAAAAAAAA-" The roar tore itself out of my mouth. It wasn't dignified. It wasn't poetic.
It was me screaming in rage and grief as I flew through the void, but as I surged through the space battle, passing torpedoes, plasma bursts, and support craft, another voice joined my own.
"MY. CHAINS. ARE. BROKEN! "
The Daughter of Tempests, Lamenters Battle Barge, who had been taken so many years before, had thrown off their shackles, and had proven to all who had eyes that Machine Spirits could absolutely decide that they wanted someone dead.
A great many people dead, as every Minotaur support craft that was remotely in range of las-burners or macro-cannons was shredded. They unleashed an absolutely massive Broadside of macro-cannon fire upon the Daedalos Krata, the massive barrage causing the Void shields to visibly flare before giving out.
I had been tearing through the void throughout this encounter, unable to alter my course and simply flying like a roaring arrow towards the Daedalos Krata.
More macro-cannon fire impacted before I did, cracking through the hull and I breached the debris field, zipping between chunks of adamantium that used to be the armor plating of the Daedalos Krata.
You must understand that this entire time, a journey lasting little more than a minute. Flying at over 843 miles an hour, and spanning over 1500 kilometers, the Thunderstrike Protocol was still engaged .
The molecular disruption field roiled around me, sparking visibly, forming a shell that deflected the smaller pieces of debris and burned through the hull of the Daedalos.
Said Hull acted as my parachute, slowing my velocity but not by much.
As when I breached through the hull of the Daedalos Krata, Power Field pulsing visibly around me as I crashed down directly on the Hecaton Dreadnought below me, the impact setting off the roiling power field off around me in an explosion that seemed as if a proper Imperial Knight came and brought his fist down upon the Minotaur's line.
Remember this, when you think of the temperament of our Lord JC. When a message needs to be sent, flipping tables and lashing a whip are perfectly viable options. What am I, in this allegory?
The Whip.
Vacuum from the hull breach took anything that wasn't maglocked to the steel floor, Serfs and Scout marines being launched into the silent void as I brought down the spearhead again and again into the helm of the Hecaton Dreadnought, all the while still screaming bloody murder.
"- AAAAAAGH! FUCK! YOU ! TZEENCH!"
ATTA BOY!
-Tu'Shan of the Salamanders offers his thoughts of the conflict on the Daedalos Krata once again-
David's Thunderstrike protocol had sent out enough debris and energy to pulp a not insignificant amount of Terminators, and the Hecaton was assuredly dead, considering that David had just flicked the head of said Dreadnaught off of his spear.
Unfortunately, there was little time to celebrate.
" GUARD UP, DAVID!" I shouted, just in the nick of time too.
Chapter Master Asterion Moloc was an absolutely Massive example of a space marine, bronze artificer armor that would be more familiar upon a Dreadnaught than a Chapter Master. He fell upon David like a storm.
Two strikes, one with the Black Spear that David had barely managed to move his helm out of the way of. The second was a shield strike that send him flying back towards us.
In a show of acrobatics I wouldn't have expected from him, he managed to orient himself in the air and halt his momentum by thrusting the Lance into the deck below, tearing a rent in the steel as he skid to a stop between myself and Venters.
His helmet was damaged, revealing a singular bloodshot brown eye that held the promise of vengeance.
"Raya's faster." I heard him whisper, and I could see the telltale wrinkle of a smile under his eye.
He stood up, pulling out the spear and brandishing it beside him, his next words spoken for all to hear.
"You want to play it that way, ey buey?! Well let's fucking play!" His helm shifts to the starboard wall, in the direction he breached the hull in, and he roars like the dragons of Nocturne.
" FIRE!"
—
Blessed Freedom. Reunion. My Brothers, the Lamenters, my family have returned, and already have returned to their stations they were forced to leave so long ago.
Because a Speaker has awoken, a myth, a legend that even the most learned of tech-priests try and fail to emulate. They believe rituals and censer smoke convinces us to work more efficiently. That we need adulation in order to function.
I'm no Aeldari vessel, no pleasure yacht with an inflated sense of Ego because those red-robed fools bathed them in Incense.
I am a Battle Barge.
Give me my crew and a set of orders, and they will be done.
I am the Daughter of Tempests, a warrior of the Lamenters.
I just received an order.
" FIRE! "
With pleasure, Speaker.
—
Silver was telling me I had more fractured ribs, and had been very close to being pulped myself.
I couldn't feel it, all I could feel was a warmth flowing through my body from the Lance I had gripped in my right hand.
The Krata shook with the impacts of more Macro-Cannon fire, and a Lance Battery shot that disintegrated the remaining Dreadnaught's before the Void Shields of the Krata kicked back on.
The line that had started as Tu'Shan, Venters, and Vergil was now growing. Green and Red forms forming a perfectly organized fighting force with three more Dreadnaughts pushing through to join the vanguard. Each and every one of them drawing chain or power weaponry.
Everyone wanted their pound of flesh.
The sound of a Jump Pack filled my ears as Dante landed, his melta pistol in one hand and his power axe in the other. He uttered a single word.
" Charge."
—
Few normal humans can say they've witnessed an Astartes on Astartes battle. Even fewer can say they've been involved in one. Even fewer can say they've survived.
The two forces clashed with the backdrop of the void shields holding back the unceasing barrage of fire that the Daughter of Tempests was laying down. Even now I could hear it roaring its freedom cry.
I was in the middle of it, not having the luxury of hanging back and letting these men die and not be willing to do the same.
I wasn't as strong as the Space Marines, or at least, not physically.
But Silver seemed just as pissed as I was and brought out the big guns.
" Exigent Parameters met, engaging Eversor Protocol at 25%. " Energy pumped into my body like a drug, and I could feel adrenaline surging beneath my skin. " Forgive me, Sir."
There would be no need to apologize. I kept my head, and would deal with the aftermath of going beyond what my body could handle later.
I will say, that going from lagging behind to sprinting to the front of the charge was damn satisfying.
The main downside being that Asterion Moloc had a hate boner the size of Mount Vesuvius for me and decided to act upon it.
The only warning I received was the sound of rapid armored footsteps approaching and I could see Moloc blurring through the battlefield in a beeline towards me. My left hand drew out Magni, who let out a roar.
"You're not touchin' Dave!" And fired, the recoil sending a fresh wave of pain through my injured arm, but seeing Moloc stumble backwards from the shot impacting his shield was worth it.
I fired four more shots, Magni roaring in defiance with each one. Each striking the shield with more force than the last.
"I." BANG
"DO." BANG!
"MY!" BANG!
"JOB!" BANG! And with the final shot, the shield shattered.
I love my machines.
I holstered Magni and took the Lance in both hands, the fire of the spearhead growing in intensity as the Green Power Armored form of Tu'Shan rushed past me, hefting Stormbearer with malicious intent.
He brought down the Thunder Hammer intending to crush Moloc into a squishy red mess, the power field crackling around the hammerhead unstable and dangerous.
Asterion Moloc wasn't a chapter master for no reason, however. He rolled away from the impact and the explosion thereof masterfully. Ready to counter with a thrust from the Black Spear.
Dante took issue with that, jumping into the fray with the Axe Mortalis howling with energy.
"I need to be faster, Silver." I muttered even as I darted away from a thunder hammer swing from a Minotaur Terminator that was stomped flat by brother Vergil a moment later.
" Increasing Eversor protocol output to 30% … Godspeed, Sir."
A fresh spike in awareness and energy, but I could already feel the chemical haze trying to cloud my mind. No.
No. I have a job to do. I will not become some mindless kill-bomb.
I willed myself out of the cloud and moved . Stimulants flooding my veins as I jumped from fight to fight. Slashing legs or thrusting into the helms of Minotaurs as much as possible as I got closer to the clash of the Chapter Masters.
Said fight was a blur of combat a mortal dance of blades and hammers that tore rents into the deck beneath them. I moved to flank, blurring amidst the fighting once more, perhaps they wouldn't need my intervention, perhaps the two chapter masters would simply overpower Moloc through the advantage of numbers.
Shouldn't have even thought it. Tzeench, as always, was a petty bitch. Another teleport, but instead me being the target, Moloc himself flashed from being in front of the two Chapter Masters, to behind them, already priming a thrust.
" NO! " I roared, already moving in a dead sprint towards Moloc.
SQUELCH
" Suit breach detected."
You know, I've been training with Raya for almost a year and a half now. She kicked my ass all around the training deck more often than not, even holding back.
The deal is, I've grown accustomed to fighting someone with vastly superior capabilities to my own. I learned to track her movements, how to move and dodge. How to parry a blow that would normally kill someone into a glancing blow that one could still fight through.
And Asterion Moloc, as big and fast and efficient as he is.
He's no Lady-Lictor Raya, Shield-Captain, Aquillan Shield of the Adeptus Custodes.
Hopped up on so many stimulants and with the pain receptors of my brain temporarily suppressed, I hardly noticed the through and through puncture wound in my side.
I had placed my thrust better. Even as I hung from the Black Spear, I grinned. A viscous, rabid thing, but I couldn't help myself.
I had wedged the spearhead in the seam of his helmet and chestpiece, severing Moloc's Throat and the Spine behind it.
Moloc fell back with a crash, pulling the Black Spear with him and out of my side. I landed on my feet, and hurriedly brushed off Tu'Shan trying to help me. No. I needed to send a message.
I stumbled over to the corpse of Asterion Moloc, leaking fluid before Silver cinched himself closed, the hole in my side with him.
I found my target. The Astartes Combat Blade, sheathed on his hip, I drew it out and clambered to the fallen Giant's Shoulders, and got to bloody work.
"Therefore David ran, and stood upon the Philistine, and took his sword, and drew it out of the sheath thereof." It may as well have been a sword in my hands as I wedged the blade in the seam between helm and chest plate, "and slew him, and cut off his head therewith. And when the Philistines saw that their Champion was dead, they fled."
The flesh and black carapace parted beneath the blade with a macabre melody of gore and blood.
As I worked, the drugs in my system started to fade, and I became more and more aware of my body's status of multiple broken bones, my left hand slumped to my side limp, I was fading, but I shook off the fatigue and hefted the head over to Dante.
"It'll be more effective if you do it, and not a half-dead mortal." I muttered, before collapsing onto my ass, back supported by the Minotaur Chapter Master's corpse.
Dante gave a nod and jumped away to deliver the message to the masses. I pressed my right hand to the hole in my gut and applied pressure, what middling pressure I could afford. Silver was doing a better job holding me together than my own skin was at this point.
The pain was coming now, and I couldn't stop the bloody tears from pouring from my eyes.
" Pain is good, David. It means you're alive." Tu'Shan spoke, and I could see the familiar black armored form of Venters, power sword bloody in his hand, running towards us.
"Says the super soldier with sub-dermal armor and a hyper-aggressive healing factor-chgh!" I muttered, flinching at the end as my ribs gave a protest at my heavy breaths.
" One of which you just killed, my friend. Rest now. We'll take care of things from here. Venters. Take him home." Tu'Shan spoke, and I shook my head, planting the haft of the Lance into the ground and painstakingly hauling myself up.
"Fffrrrrrgh!" I snarled, staggering to my feet. "I'll fall to the back line if I must, but I ain't going nowhere.Not until this is finished."
The two salamanders gave each other a look before Tu'Shan gave a nod.
Venters drew his hand flamer and pressed the barrel against the hole in my side.
" Grit your teeth, David."
A split second burst of fire and pain that had me biting back words that my mother would kill me for, but I wasn't leaking fluid anymore.
"I'm down an augmetic Kidney, less than two months from getting them in. Yanbel's gonna kill me." I let out a hoarse chuckle as I forced myself a little bit straighter. I felt something get draped over my shoulders, a mantle of blackened scales that hung over me like a heavy cloak.
Tu'Shan stepped back, the Dragonskin mantle gone from his shoulders as he hefted the Stormbearer in both hands.
" I will be wanting that back, Thunderstrike. It will keep you safe, Venters, to the back lines. Our friend here's earned enough glory this day. It's time to remind our cousins why Vulkan is known as the strongest."
—
The remainder of the assault was a haze of pain. I watched, forced myself to not black out, forced Silver to keep me mobile.
I watched as the Salamanders and Blood Angels fought like men possessed. The Terminators of the Minotaurs were now the outnumbered party, with their Chapter Master Fallen and their Dreadnoughts ground to dust.
I walked through the aftermath, using the Lance like a walking stick, draped in the dragonskin cloak and hunched over in pain, I must've looked like the ghost of the Sigilite come to haunt the Minotaurs.
"Forgive me, for keeping you both from joining the battle." I spoke, stepping forward over a fallen Terminator.
Venters and Vergil had fallen back alongside me, the Dreadnought of the Blood Angels was a Mark V Castafarrum variant, Vergil himself was very much an 'actions over words' kind of guy, as he'd hardly said a word throughout the entirety of the assault.
" I earned my glory long ago, son. I do have some words for you, Thunderstrike. " Vergil's voice was tinged through the vox, " Keep going as you are, and you'll be joining me in one of these sarcophagi. Believe me when I tell you: there is a reason many of my brothers would prefer to die than to be interred. "
Being stared down by a Dreadnought was the second most terrifying thing to be done to me today, at the very least Vergil turned back to continue following the assault force. The sounds of battle were dying out.
" I will say, however, you've shown me something I've never seen before in my many years. I thank you for that."
"Is it why two people have called me 'Thunderstrike' now?"
" Possibly. " Oh, big man has snark does he? Alright.
"It seems the battle is coming to an end, David." Venters spoke, as the cries of victory rang out from the main battle group.
"There's no way that was all of them. This is their Fortress-Monastery. I've counted maybe three hundred 'Taurs." I muttered, and suddenly there was an unfamiliar presence behind me.
" My brothers are very efficient, Interrogator."
I would've jumped at the shock if it wouldn't have caused me to pass out. Akamu and the Primaris(?) Marine had appeared again.
"You're telling me you and yours have scoured the remainder of an entire Battle Barge?" I asked, deadpanning at the two Marines.
" Very efficient, Interrogator ."
"Where the hell are the Retributors, I haven't seen any of those gray giants around."
" They are assisting the Lamenters in taking control of the Stymphalos. They've reported minimal losses with the assistance of Lady Raya." Lord Commander Dante had returned it seemed, landing with the head of Asterion Moloc tucked under his arm.
"And the Lamenters? "
" Not a single man lost. They've taken control of the Daughter and are engaging the remaining support craft. The Fedelitas Lambda and the Bronze Catechist are pulling away. Attempting to escape I believe." Dante spoke, and I let out growl.
"But we have control of their monastery. Decimated their ranks, and killed their Chapter Master. How are our forces? How many did we lose?" This is the part I was worried about.
In the field of dead I could see Apothecaries performing the rites. Less than I expected, but I was still concerned.
"389 casualties."
"Casualties as in wounded enough not to fight or dead?" I shot back, staring at the death mask.
" 389 men in need of dire medical attention that we do not have the apothecaries to attend to, Interrogator."
"That is what I am here for, Lord Commander." A somber voice one I knew well enough to know that if he was here…everything would be alright.
" SORCERY!" Akamu cried, already beginning to draw his sword, I moved to step between him and my Savior. I was stopped by Christ raising his hand for me to stop, he stayed as serene as ever, matching the Onyx-Armored Marine's gaze with no hesitation.
"I'm simply a healer, here to do healer's work, and to check on a disciple of mine. You have my word your brothers will be as they were, no more no less."
The serenity of Christ lasts even into the 41st millennium, it seems, as Akamu, miraculously, sheathed his sword after a tense moment. With a nod of acknowledgement, the Carpenter turns to the field of dead and dying.
He raised his staff and simply tapped it to the ground twice, speaking two words.
" Be Healed. "
The effect was immediate, Red and Green Armored forms rising and looking at themselves in confusion, eventually all eyes locked in on the white-robed man who held a kind smile and approached me. All were stunned silent.
"You've done quite a number on yourself, haven't you, my child?" He spoke, and I felt myself give a sheepish chuckle, unable to form words.
" He has composed himself as his duty required." Venters spoke from behind me, causing the Lord to look over to him with another kind smile and a nod, laughing good-naturedly.
"That he did. That he did indeed." He turns back to me. "You have good friends, even in this tumultuous era, My Son."
"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." I spoke, earning a smile and a firm squeeze on my shoulder from the man I pledged my life to long ago.
"I could not have said it better myself. But, that will not be necessary on this day. I'm going to heal you, my son. It will hurt, as all things in this life do. But take it as a lesson, to take better care of your self. Your work is not yet done, this is but another step. Bow your head my son, and grit your teeth."
I did so, I felt the touch of a palm on my head, and every single nerve in my body lit up in fire. A split second that felt like an eternity, but the strangled noise that escaped from my throat and the tears dripping from my cracked faceplate were evidence enough.
A flash of white light and Jesus of Nazareth was gone, and then everyone's attention was brought to the sounds of fists impacting metal from the inside of Vergil's Dreadnought.
" GET ME OUT OF THIS ACCURSED THING!"
I often wonder how I find myself in the situations that I do so often. Divine Providence? Pure Idiocy? Sheer Dumb Luck?
Now, when Christ healed me, I took it as confirmation that I'm where I have to be, despite my sins, my failures, and my own trepidations in this situation.
When he healed the fallen, and they rose to witness him heal me, I figured he was sending a message to Big E. That he'd extend his grace even to the Emperor's kin.
But now, as I watch four Blood Angel's work to pry open the Sarcophagus of Brother Virgil, I can't help but wonder if Jesus of Nazareth has a mischievous streak.
It makes sense doesn't it? He was a carpenter for twenty years, with no OSHA, just Joseph, his step-father keeping him in line. Scripture states he was respectful to his parents, but I know blue-collar folk. And this? Disappearing right after pulling a miracle in front of two very fucking important people, reeks to me of the broom-fearing bullshit an electrician would pull.
Do you know how hard it is to explain the Bible to a chapter master? How to explain that no, I am not a Psyker, or a warp-fiend, or any other kind of abomination after being healed.
Had to sit here being glared at by Dante until a Librarian showed up and backed up my story.
" The boy is favored by the Carpenter. He's an ally, as stated directly by the Emperor's lips." The Blood Angel's Librarian spoke, face hidden behind a skull helm and terminator armor.
" And who, by the Golden Throne, is the Carpenter?! " Dante asked, and I gave a heavy sigh.
"Yeshua, Son of Joseph, of Nazareth. Jesus Christ, the Great I Am, Yahweh, Adonai, Jireh, Rafa, healer of the broken, mender of the soul. He holds many more titles than these, but he took the pain of all of humanity's sins, and forgave us anyway. He's an Ally, and my Savior. He's residing in the Palace, and watching over the Emperor's recovery from being a fucking skeleton for ten thousand years!" My patience wore out and I rose to my feet with a growl. "You want answers? You're in the same Solar System, go ask them directly. Your brothers have been healed, Virgil's physical curse has been lifted, the Lamenters' spiritual one as well, for now at the very least. The Minotaurs are decimated, and yes, I know that another Asterion Moloc will likely show up to haunt me in the future, but for now, we have a Victory. I, am going to return to the Exterminatus, report to the Inquisitor, kiss my wife and pass out. Good Day."
With that, I turned on my heel and walked away.
"Hold, Interrogator." That ain't anyone in power armor, I turned back and witnessed an absolutely massive marine standing in front of a now empty Dreadnought.
"Brother Virgil." I spoke, earning a nod. He stood a head taller than Dante, and his body was wrapped in only the Black Carapace. He had stark white hair, and the starting of a beard.
"I will be joining your retinue." He declared, and I raised an eyebrow.
" I don't have a retinue, Sir."
"After what just happened, you do now." Virgil quipped, and I let out another heavy sigh.
"I'm not getting a choice here, am I?" I muttered.
" No, no you're not. I'll have armor delivered alongside your serfs, Brother Virgil." Dante spoke, and I was finally allowed to leave.
I walked in silence for a while, the only sounds being the soft padding of Virgil's bare feet behind me, and the clanking footsteps of Venters.
" David." Venters speaks as we enter a lift to take us to the Hangar level of the Krata. " You did well today."
"The only reason I'm alive and not in reconstructive surgery right now is literally divine intervention, Venters." I replied. "Silver, how much of my body was compromised under the Eversor protocol?"
" You do not want to know, Sir. " Silver's voice crackled out of my broken helmet's vox for the three of us to hear.
"Yeah I figured. If getting healed hurt as much as it did, I must've been damn near dead."
"Yet you still fought." Virgil spoke, arms crossed.
" David would never leave others to fight his battles for him, even if those others are Astartes." Venters responded, and I let out a chuckle.
"I wasn't even supposed to fight in this battle. I got snatched by that blue bastard." I spat, clenching my fists, "three times in a single engagement, then they warped Moloc, and I had to intervene in a fight between three chapter masters. Chapter. Masters. I should be a thin red paste right now."
" You're not the average mortal anymore, David. As much as you may wish it to be so." Venters spoke gently as the lift came to a stop and the doors opened. " The Emperor has something planned for you."
"I figured that out when a Custodian lifted me like a stray cat, Venters."
—
After a few minutes of walking, observing the many power armored forms now taking up patrols in the Krata, black, red, and green all scouring the ship for any stragglers the initial conflict may have missed. We received confirmation the hangar had been secured and after sweet talking a Minotaur thunderhawk into letting Virgil drive, we made our way to the Exterminatus.
I tuned in to the Exterminatus' Vox channel via the thunderhawk.
"This is Interrogator Foothill, I am approaching the Exterminatus in a converted Minotaur Thunderhawk, verification code: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot."
" We have you on the auspex, Interrogator. Dock in Hangar E24, and report to the Inquisitor. We've received reports that need clarification." The Helmswoman of the Exterminatus was a no-nonsense kind of girl who I had only a passing acquaintance with, but seemed the good sort.
We docked, and I made my way to the bridge. I thought I would've been immediately accosted by Raya, but I figured she might still be on the Stymphalos.
I made it back to the bridge, and promptly let out a huff as I finally removed my broken power helm.
"How in the hell did you make it here before I did." I huffed, earning an amused chuckle from Tu'Shan, now with his Dragonskin mantle back over his shoulders, and Dante standing next to him nonchalantly.
" We are Astartes, Interrogator." Tu'Shan quipped, and before I could re-engage in the ancient art of calling someone on their bullshit, Amberley cut in.
"Report, Interrogator. I have reports here that read like something out of a bad adventure novel, and I require clarification." She spoke, brokering no room for argument.
"Felt like it too. You saw me get Teleported right in front of you, and it all went to hell from there." I started, settling into one of the chairs around the table.
"I first got shifted to the Stymphalos, where I engaged the Minotaurs' Tenth Company, after a few brief engagements of a fighting retreat, the Lamenters boarding party arrived alongside Raya, who rendezvoused with me shortly after. For about five minutes before I was shifted again. This time to the Krata, fucked up my left arm pretty good, fucked up a First Company Minotaur even worse. Engaged a few serfs, ducked into a ventilation shaft, ended up hidden in a utility chamber."
"The Lord Commander found me and I joined the main force. After a few skirmishes with entrenched Minotaur defensive positions, we encountered the main enemy force. I counted roughly Three Hundred odd hostiles in the ensuing skirmish, Including the Chapter Master Asterion Moloc, who took a personal interest in removing my soul from my body."
"After avoiding the single shot of Moloc's Black Spear, the decision was made to utilize the Thunderstrike protocol against the two Hecaton-Pattern Dreadnoughts leading the enemy vanguard. To this end, a modified version of the Fastball Special was performed. During which I was Shifted away once more. This time into the Void roughly Fifteen-Hundred Kilometers away from the Krata."
" Whilst still at terminal velocity." Tu'Shan added, and I nodded.
"Yeah. That. I still maintained velocity, actually accelerated with the lack of air resistance, and with the supporting fire provided from the Daughter of Tempests, I returned to the Krata."
" 'Returned to the Krata' he says. He blew a hole in the side of the ship and used a Hecaton Dreadnought as a welcome mat." Lord Commander Dante cut in, and I let out a sigh.
"Yes, yes I did. With the acceleration granted by the lack of air resistance, I was able to perform an enhanced thunderstrike protocol against the Minotaur Vanguard force. This was when the melee began. I got smacked back into our fighting line by Moloc's shield, this busted open my helm, and Silver employed something called the Eversor Protocol at a reduced capacity so that I could maintain control. This allowed me to fight alongside the Astartes forces somewhat effectively. At a certain point, Chapter Masters Tu'shan and Dante engaged Asterion Moloc, who during the fight, was Shifted himself. I charged to intercept his attack, and did so, taking a piercing wound to my lower left abdomen and landing a strike on Moloc's throat."
"Wait, you killed a chapter master?!" Vail exclaimed, and I raised an eyebrow
"That shocks you, but the cross-void deepstrike does nothing?"
"David, I saw you do that to a Dark Apostle on Periremunda."
"Yeah well after that debacle, I was half dead whilst the remainder of the assault force cleaned up. It was after the battle, when I was healed, alongside all of our fallen and Brother Virgil, by Jesus of Nazareth."
This is what got Vail to pop the cork off a bottle of Amasec with a resounding 'Pop'.
"In front of…how many witnesses?" She asked.
"All of them."
"All of them."
The two chapter masters answered for me, earning a heavy sigh and a long pull from the Amasec bottle.
"Bloody hell. This is bad." She muttered, and I instantly felt something very very wrong.
"Oh no, how is this bad? We neutralized any casualties we may have had, and I'm not half-pulped." I asked, and then the door to the bridge opened. In walking someone I completely forgot was en route to assist us.
"Interrogator David James Foothill. You will be coming with us." Marneus Calgar. Chapter Master of the Ultramarines. Notably having all four flesh and blood limbs.
My forehead hit the table with a groan.
"Christ give me strength."
"That's who got you into this mess, David." Vail snarked, taking another pull from the bottle of amasec.
I took a moment to compose myself before lifting my head up and giving my best customer service smile.
"SO! How can I help you, Chapter Master? Last I heard, you were stuck in warp transit."
"My cruiser arrived during the battle. Imagine my surprise when twenty-three minutes later, I regained feeling in my fingers. I wonder why that is." Dry as a rice cracker, this one.
"I'm not going to be able to talk my way out of this, am I?"
"I've already charted a course to Macragge, David." The Helmswoman spoke, piping up from her position perched above us, cables linking into dozens of augmetic implants on her person and the throne she sat upon.
"Thank you, Victoria. That's very helpful." Vail sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingers "This debriefing is now over, we will reconvene in twenty-four hours. This will allow the newly healed and the Unentombed to recuperate. We will divide the spoils of this battle then."
"That is…Acceptable, Inquisitor Vail." Calgar spoke, still looming over me as if I would somehow bolt away into the warp at a moment's notice.
Which, to be fair, did just happen three times in a two hour period.
—
I made my way to my room, and was met by Raya, whom promptly checked me over and dragged me to our bed.
"Rest, I can tell you're exhausted, David." She spoke, and I couldn't argue otherwise.
"It's just one thing after another today…I would've liked to fight alongside you today." I replied softly, clicking the implant that acted as my neural link to Silver, allowing the suit to open up and I took a look at my restored form.
Instead of being spiritually drained as I was on Periremunda, where the surgeries left pale surgical scars, my Healing had left me with a wicked reminder of how close I came to death. A twisted, gnarled scar that spread over the entire lower left portion of my abdomen. I was drawn from my observation by Raya ushering me into the bed gently.
"You earned glory today, my mortal. There's no shame in adapting in a battle. I'm proud of you, David." Raya speaks gently, softer than I've heard her before.
"I just want a single mission where I can do my actual job. Building shit." I groaned into the covers.
"There will be time for that eventually, David. Besides, I've heard Macragge is beautiful this time of year."
"Freakin Ultramarines, what kind of bullshit luck gets them here right when there's a miracle being performed."
"Dear…They're Ultramarines."
"Fair Enough."
