Saeva Abyssi Chapter 3

Toran was breathing hard, gasping for air as his body sought to restore its equilibrium. His multi-lung was fully engaged and his second heart thundered in his chest for he had been fighting hard for hours, at a pace that would have certainly killed a mortal man. His face was flushed beneath his helm but still felt a triumphant grin creeping onto his face as he levelled his Relic blade at his defeated opponent. Sprawled on the deck before him was a Transhuman warrior, in battered armour, laid prone by Toran's last blow. The Captain laid his sword across the neck of his enemy and growled, "You are a dead man."

The defeated warrior raised his twin lightning claws and said, "At least I die in battle."

Toran replied, "Well that's good, I would hate to have to report that you died because a rock fell upon that thick skull of yours."

From the deck Sergeant Lorath chuckled and lifted his hands to pull off his helm saying, "Another worthy victory Captain Toran, yet again the heroes of Blue team have defended the ship from the vile boarders of Red team."

Toran laughed as he sheathed his sword and then reached up to pull free his own helm, revealing his scarred face and augmetic eye. The Captain took in a breath of smoke-filled air and heard the sounds of combat fading away as the Red team were beaten soundly into submission. He glanced at Lorath and said, "That's five victories out of five matches, I trust you are not going easy on me just because I am your Captain?"

From behind them a voice spoke up, it was Persion and he was picking himself up off the deck as he said, "Trust me Captain, Lorath is not one to pull his punches." Toran saw him reach down and pull free a short dirk that was embedded in his side and immediately Larraman cells welled up to clot the wound in seconds. Toran was not shocked by the injury, training exercises may be fought with dulled blades and inert bolt rounds but they were utterly ferocious nonetheless. For an Astartes to fight with anything less than absolute commitment was an alien concept, if training held no risk or danger then what would be the point of it?

Lorath was working a crick out of his neck and said, "Seriously Sir, you have been fighting extremely well these last few days. I would swear your swordwork is improving."

Toran replied, "I confess I have taken to duelling with Novak recently, sharpening my skills."

Lorath asked, "Going for the title of Chapter Champion are you?"

"No," commented Persion dryly, "He merely got fed up with every passing Warlord battering him senseless; he said he had decided to do something about it."

Lorath rubbed a sore jaw and remarked, "Well it's working, I couldn't lay a finger on you."

"Come on," said Toran with a smile, " Let's find the rest of this sorry lot."

The three of them gathered themselves together and set off, wandering down a narrow corridor as they headed towards the noise of the company. Toran glanced at his companions and was glad to see Lorath in such fine spirits. Once the brusque warrior would have been sent into a monumental brood by repeated defeats but he seemed to be taking it in his stride. When Toran had met him Lorath had been a Terminator, a great honour to be sure but that was as far as he had been set to rise. Lorath was not one to concern himself with morale, preferring simply to get on with things; unfortunately the Masters had believed that this made him unfit to be a Sergeant. Toran however had felt differently and in a time of desperate need had promoted him. The warrior had taken to the role with gusto and his impatient, no-nonsense style had proved perfect for an Assault Squad leader, now he was one of Toran's most ardent followers.

The three of them soon exited the corridor emerging into a large, vaulted space at least a couple of miles long. This was the Thunderchild's training deck, a facility capable of recreating almost any environment and conditions. Currently it was configured to recreate the interior of a starship, laying a warren of overlapping tubes over and upon one another like a beehive. It seemed odd to have a recreation starship inside a starship, but training was hard on any environment and a void-faring vessel had too many important mechanisms for them to risk drilling in working spaces.

Toran saw lines of Space Marines emerging from various openings in the recreation and blank-faced Servitors trundling forward with tools raised. It would take several hours to restore the damage to the false environment before they could go again. Toran looked over his Company, many with red stripes upon their helms and saw that they were in good spirits, laughing and applauding each other's performance. It helped that he and Lorath had swapped up their teams after each exercise, so that not one squad felt like it was being dishonoured. They watched as Apothecary Memnos moved to assist several injured Battle-Brothers, haranguing them when they tried to pass off their wounds as mere annoyances. Meanwhile Chaplain Wrethan was marching up and down offering equal parts praise and criticism to various initiates, his harsh mask slipping a little to reveal a more thoughtful side as he talked to a Brother having trouble standing on a mangled leg.

Persion sighed and said, "It was good to stretch ourselves, a shame Furion had to miss it."

Toran commented, "Somebody had to stand watch on the bridge."

Persion quipped, "Well it's not like the old man could keep up anyway, he needs his sleep."

Toran replied with a straight face, "I don't know what you're grinning about; you will be taking the next watch."

Persion's face fell as Toran turned to Lorath saying, "Tell Chaplain Wrethan to take over Blue team and set up for the next match."

Lorath replied curiously, "You're not staying?"

Toran answered "No, Hevostan requested my presence in the Engineerium, he said it was a matter of great importance."

Lorath nodded and said, "Go tend to the mysteries of the Omnissiah; we can carry on without you."

Toran turned to leave and as he did so he heard Persion remark, "Cheer up Lorath, perhaps Red team will actually stand a chance now."

The Captain grinned to himself as he left and took an exit that descended to one of the ship's internal transit tubes. He summoned a conveyance and embarked the small capsule before it whisked him away. The capsule accelerated hard, covering a distance in minutes that he would have taken hours to walk. The capsule sped through compartment after compartment, most of which he had never seen. A Captain should know his ship, but Imperial vessels were the size of cities, Toran could spend his whole life touring the ship and still not see everything. As he travelled deeper into the ship Toran reflected for a moment. The Chapter's newest ship was a great asset but it certainly having teething trouble and he was unsure how she would fare in combat. The crew seemed to be benefitting from some downtime and the technical difficulties would be overcome, but more concerning was that the ship seemed reluctant to reveal its Spirit. Every Imperial vessel had a unique character, stalwart or fierce, sly or zealous but this ship had yet to reveal her character and he knew only true combat would reveal her nature.

Swiftly the capsule took him to the Engineerium and Toran alighted outside its great doors, he was clearly expected for the guardian turrets did not stir nor did the many Gun-Servitors so much as twitch. Toran marched past them all and strode through the soaring doors, which were large enough to permit a Warhound Titan to pass. He entered a vast space, dwarfing anything else on the ship and looked upon the beating heart of the Thunderchild.

The compartment was filled with gargantuan machinery, looming so high that the tops were lost in darkness and so broad that they made the space seem cramped. Everywhere Serfs and Engineseers laboured over arcane tasks while teams of men dragged machinery into place with long chains. Sparks flew from every corner as arcs of lightning earthed themselves in bronze rods and the flashing lights etched shadows into the walls. The noise was staggering, filling the space with a cacophony of shouting, banging and hammering all mixed with the endless chants of Tech-Priests marching by with smoking braziers of blessed incense swinging to and fro.

Toran spied a hint of red armour and strode over, seeing Techmarine Hevostan arguing with a Tech-Priest half his size. Despite the din Hevostan seemed to hear Toran's approach and cut off his argument as he faced the Captain. Toran took in the strange sight of his Brother, the servant of both the Emperor and the Omnissiah, covered in the iconography of Mars and bearing a servo claw over one shoulder. Hevostan saluted with the Sign of the Cog and said over the noise, "Captain, thank you for coming."

Toran nodded respectfully and replied amid the din,"Your missive sounded most urgent."

Hevostan replied, "Yes, I need your authorisation on a sensitive matter, it concerns Plasma-Reactor Eight here."

Toran looked up at the towering machine behind Hevostan, a squat and rotund device filling the space. It was simply immense, curving outwards in a bloated fashion and covered in protruding pipes and cables like a cactus. Standing beneath it made one feel insignificant and unworthy, like a mouse before a lion and it was humbling to remember that it was just one of eight such devices in the chamber. Toran considered this for a moment and then said, "Still having problems?"

Hevostan replied, "Yes, its Spirit is most unbecoming for such a sacred device, the Machine spurns our humble offerings and refuses to awaken. The crew are growing fearful, they whisper number eight is jinked or even cursed. I have tried every binary psalm and maintenance check I know and it still will not comply. Therefore I need your permission to perform the Rite of Final Entreaty."

Toran frowned and said, "I am not familiar with that Sacrament."

Hevostan drew in a sad breath and said, "It is rarely performed for it is considered a last resort among my order. If the Rite does not satisfy the Machine's Spirit then it is considered that the Omnissiah has withdrawn his favour from it."

Toran knew enough to realise this was a grim idea for the Tech-Adept and he said, "That sounds extreme, are there no other options? Perhaps Magos Castabore could lend her aid…"

"Castabore!" spat Hevostan tetchily, "She ignores her sacred observances in favour of theoretical research. Her obsession with those miserable Reflex Shields consumes her thoughts."

Toran felt the need to defend her and said, "If she can complete her work then they could be a great boon. The ability to make a ship disappear from enemy auspex's would be a huge tactical advantage."

Hevostan shook his head, "They may sound impressive but the process involved is trickier than balancing quantum field variances. She is engaged on a gremlin chase and is going in circles, I doubt she will ever find the answer she seeks."

Toran saw that this was going to become an argument and decided to get back on point. He declared, "Well either way the Thunderchild suffers for running on only seven reactors, we need a decision about number eight. Perform your ritual, if you can appease its Spirit then all will be well, if not then we must decommission and replace the unit when we return to Lujan II."

Hevostan did not sound pleased as he said, "That will be a lengthy process in itself, we may have to consider…"

His sentence was cut off when suddenly the vox crackled and Furion's voice came through saying, "Bridge to Captain Toran, come in Captain Toran."

Toran blinked at the interruption and quickly opened a link saying, "Bridge this is Toran, report."

Furion said, "Sir, you need to come to the bridge at once, we have vessels on approach."

Toran frowned and asked, "Hostiles?"

Furion answered, "Far from it, it's an Imperial Navy patrol and it's being led by the Averof."

Toran smiled at the pronouncement and he said, "The Averof? That is good news, I will be there shortly."

He turned to face Hevostan and said, "Continue your work, I must depart immediately. We must prepare a warm welcome for our guests; I confess that I am looking forward to seeing Captain Mandas once more."