Fear of Retribution

[Papewaio]

Hey everyone. Having been inspired by Lady_Cannoness' works, The Fallen Saint and, more recently, The Inquisition, I have decided to have a go at writing myself some fluff for my Chaos Marines, since I can't write an Index Traitoris to save my life. I haven't had very much experience with writing sci-fi or fantasy, and the only 40k stories I have read are those mentioned above, so C&C is welcomed.

 

Okay, time to stop the babble and present to you the first part of Fear of Retribution: Information

 

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'And he shall come, wrapped in night and the unwilling herald of his Lord. His planet shall be damned by his actions, and his people shall follow him into the purity of hate. Through force of will he shall repel the servants of the challenger, and cling to his ignorance. But through the dark fires of unreality he shall be reborn, and forever deny his destiny.'

-Guros, blind prophet of Heroundet VI, burnt as a heretic in 856.M37

*

Snapping off a shot from his bolt pistol, whirling, feeling his chainsword bite into the flesh of an abdomen and seeing the fear in the rest of the rebels' eyes. Ripping his weapon from the corpse, he pounded towards the remaining men. A bolt whipped over his shoulder and blew a head filled with treacherous thoughts apart and two of the scum broke, trying to sprint past him. One felt the fury of his fist as he caught the neck of his opponent and squeezed, and the other ran into the length of his chainsword, splitting himself from mid-chest to groin. The last remaining rebel dived, grabbed the dropped bolt pistol and fired twice. They were good shots, too; one to the chest and another to his sword arm. He grunted, feeling the impacts of the blows but his armour stopped the rounds penetrating. His momentum carried him forward and he scooped the now screaming man up, turned, and threw him into the opposite wall.

Sergeant Darios of the Lords of Retribution Space Marine Chapter stooped to pick up his pistol, then turned towards his comrade who had fired the shot over his shoulder. The warrior, like Darios, stood close to seven feet tall and was encased in the thick ceramite and plasteel that made up his power armour. The armour was coloured bronze, with a sky blue trim colour that also coloured the Imperial Aquila on the chest plate. He motioned with his head towards the sounds of distant fighting, over the west side of the factory building. Darios nodded, and followed his brother Marine through the desolation of twisted steel and concrete rubble. As they neared the din of rounds screaming through the air, of men shouting in pain, they beheld another eight of the Lords of Retribution conducting a firefight with around twenty renegade armed with a varying degree of weaponry. Ranging from simple laspistols and iron bars to a heavy flamer wielded by a muscular slab of a man, they had the numbers, but did not have the coherency that the Marines were displaying.

After flashing a hand signal to his battle-brother, Darios charged into the one using the flamer, knocking him over and crushing his head beneath his boot. He let the momentum carry him along, and the next man he killed did not notice him. But his comrade did, and turned his lasgun onto Darios. Too late, though, as Darios smashed it down with his chainsword and snapped his elbow into his face, knocking him onto the ground where he moved no more.

Darios' companion, meanwhile, had launched his own charge into the traitors. Despite wielding a bolter, and not chainsword and bolt pistol like his sergeant, was killing just as efficiently. Another three rebels met their end under the blows of his fist and bolter.

The other eight Marines had since abandoned their cover and joined in the fierce melee. Within minutes, all remaining resistance had been crushed. Darios and his men went through the bodies systematically, searching for scraps of information. Emperor knows we have little enough of it, Darios thought as he opened a jacket pocket. The enemy's martial might could not hold against the Space Marines' prowess, but by denying them the knowledge of when and where to strike the Lords had been reduced to patrolling and attacking when the opportunity rose. The Omophagea, the special organ that allowed Marines to learn by consuming flesh, could not be implanted into the Lords. Due to unknown genetic abnormalities, the Omophagea killed the aspirant when embedded into the spinal cord by releasing a toxin that had no known cure into the potential Marine's brain.

'Sergeant,' the Marine who had accompanied Darios said. 'Something's not quite right here. Why would they choose to make their stand here, when they could have left us alone?'

Darios looked up from the corpse he was inspecting. 'How could they have left us alone, Jidairo? They know the lay of the land better than we do, surely, but they were backed into a corner.'

'If you look at the roof, sergeant, you'll see the indentations, yes?' Darios did indeed. They extended about half a metre into the room where they were standing and ran the length of the room. Jidairo continued, 'My guess would be of observation chambers, where supervisors could hear and observe the workers for the slightest disobedience.'

'You think they wished to spy on us?'

Jidairo kept his eyes on the ceiling channels. 'Yes, to see how we would fight when confronted with a foe that outnumbers us. And outnumber us they did.'

Halfway through his last sentence, footsteps echoed through the factory, the sound of boots on steel. Helyain, another Marine in Darios' squad, lifted his bolter and snapped off two shots. The first merely opened a hole in the observation chamber, but the second caught the fleeing man in his upper thigh, blowing his leg off. He collapsed, falling backwards towards the hole of the first bolt had made. Helyain grinned. 'Got the bugger.'

Darios pointed at him, and said, 'Get him down. It's no use have a potential source of information if we can't talk to him.' Helyain shot a few more rounds into the chamber to make the hole larger, and then jumped up and caught the edge of the chamber with his hands. He grabbed the man's remaining leg, and dropped back to the ground, ignoring the whimpers of pain.

The sergeant motioned and said, 'We'll get him back to the CP before he dies. Maybe Aleois can find some information out of him.' The squad moved into a formation two abreast, with Helyain and another carrying the wounded rebel in the centre, the rest with bolters up and watching for any sign of the enemy.

*

Captain Aleois of the 4th Company, Lords of Retribution, strode though the command post with just a hint of his fatigue showing through. His artificer armour was adorned with the Chapter symbol, a winged fist, and the Aquila, as well as his personal heraldry denoting the campaigns he fought in. His face, lined with weariness, was thin and hawk-like, with hard, ice-blue eyes that had seen more than their fair share of warfare.

'Darios! Come here. Your prisoner held some very interesting secrets in his skull,' the Captain said. 'Unfortunately, he would not answer during the Chaplain's questioning and so Isayos took over. The unfortunate part is that he did not possess a strong mind, so we cannot question him further.'

'What information did he hold, sir?' Darios asked, eager for answers.

'Patience, Sergeant. That has always been your failing. But you are right in asking. Come, we shall hold a council. Gather your fellow sergeants and be at the northern CP in one hour. Captain Raseos and his men will be there as well.'

'So we are to undertake a proper battle then? Not more of these mindless patrols? The Arbites or Guard could do them just as well as us.'

'I will see you at the northern CP in one hour, Darios. Do not try my patience until then.' And with that, Aleois walked away, his mind already preoccupied with other problems. He kept walking until he found Epistolary Isayos, sitting in a chair, alone. Space Marines were taught to hate the psyker and the mutant, and so the life of a Librarian was a lonely one. Isayos seemed not to mind the fact that most of his battle-brothers shunned him outside of combat. He glanced up when his Captain approached.

'Yes, Captain Aleois? What do you wish of me?' The tone was bordering on insulting. but not enough so that Aleois could call him out on it. And I'm not sure I want to, the Marine thought to himself.

'I need a message sent to Captain Raseos. We've managed to locate where Governer Caquis has been hiding. I need him and some of his men to get there. Tell him we need Caquis alive. The people need to see how the Emperor treats rebels.'

Isayos seemed to stare right through Aleois for a moment, something that unnerved the veteran. Then, without warning, Isayos said, 'Why did you not ask one of the loyal Astropaths to do this for you? Why did you need me?'

'I'm concerned that some of them are sleeping spies, turned to our side so that Caquis can intercept our messages. I don't trust them,' Aleois replied. He never liked dealing with the Epistolary. How do you treat a man that can reach into your mind to determine whether you were lying or not?

'And you trust me, Captain? I am forever loyal to the Chapter and Emperor, but most of my brothers do not recognise this,' Isayos said, quite calmly.

Loyal to the Chapter then the Emperor, in that order, Aleois thought. 'Of course I trust you, Epistolary. How could I not after the countless times you have saved my life?'

Isayos merely smiled and sat back, seemingly in comfort despite being in his bulky power armour. Aleois continued walking, away from the Librarian, towards the northern CP. Isayos wasn't scared exactly, but he seemed apprehensive. He almost went back to talk further, but his other duties called him.

*

 

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Let me know what you think!

[ANCIENT FALOR]

Sounds good keep it up. Love what u have written. Maybe you can put a dreadnought in there. Looking forward to more.

[Lady_Canoness]

Impressive Papewaio! You've really got your structure and style down-pat! I'll be interested to see if you can carry it on going forward (not an easy feat, I know)

 

I'll be liking to see where this goes - and thanks for the shout-outs! :)

[Papewaio]

Cheers guys. Anything I could do better? Is it too short? (Although I plan to keep bringing more parts in)

 

@ANCIENT FALOR: I hadn't considered a dreadnought. . . although the more I think about it, the more I like it. Thanks for the idea!

 

@Lady_Cannoness: I'm not the greatest when it comes to self-motivation, but the more people that want to keep reading will help. I hadn't really noticed anything about style or structure though. . . I just wrote. . .

[Papewaio]

Hey everyone. I have just finished writing for today, and so here for you, hot off the press is the second part of Fear of Retribution

 

Fear of Retribution Part 2 - Council Gatherings

 

'And it has come to my attention that in this particular sector, the lure of Chaos is strong and we shall need a military force that is unified, within and without, to deliver just retribution on those who turn from the light of the Emperor.'

- Report on Othrand Sector uprisings, 997.M37

*

Captain Raseos strode through his command post, a derelict reception building for one of the pleasure centres in what used to be the second city of Trasium III. Summon him to a council, would he? Call and expect him to come running, would he? So what if he had new information? Raseos doubted very much that it was important. Aleois was too . . . direct, he was locked into one pattern of thinking. Nevertheless, Raseos was busy gathering up his sergeants, preparing to go to the northern CP, to hear what precious thing Captain Aleois had discovered.

'Felian! Get the others over to the northern CP!' he barked at one of his sergeants. So freed of his oppressive duties, he stalked into his private quarters, one of the private booths that had lost a wall and had instead a pale yellow curtain to replace it. He pushed through the curtain and sat in a chair that creaked and groaned, protesting under the weight. I need to calm down, he thought. Two quick breaths followed by a deeper one, running through one of the sermons the Chaplains delivered regularly. Space Marines are the Emperor's finest warriors. The true warrior has complete control; he does not allow himself the luxuries of anger or fear. I am a Space Marine, the Emperor's Finest.

Feeling somewhat calmer, he exited the barren room and walked over to one of his personal serfs. 'I need the reports of enemy movement of the past two weeks,' Raseos ordered. 'Now. Leave that desk and fetch it.' The serf scurried away, eager to please the master.

'Captain!' Raseos whipped his head around, towards the sound of the shout. Muttering something intelligible, he moved towards the sounds of commotion that had happened so suddenly. Hearing the muted shots of a laspistol, he drew his ancient power sword, and started running. Knocking a desk with the bulk of his artificer armour, he reached the doorway, and saw two of his Marines holding a struggling man between the two of them, with six other bodies strewn around them.

'Gosran heard something, and so we decided to have a look around, sir. We found these scum lurking, trying to overhear on our plans,' one of the Marines reported. Despite have killed not even a minute ago, he did not even sound out of breath.

'One of you can hold him. Gosran, search the bodies. If you find something, bring it to me. I'll be at the northern CP for a council. Fuliad, come with me. Bring the prisoner,' Raseos said, taking in what had just happened. Some human rebels had just slipped through all their defences unnoticed and had managed to get close to one of the most senior Marines on the planet.

The serf ran up to him, bearing a small sheaf of paper. "Ah, excellent. Can you also see to it that our guard is increased by one half,' was Raseos' only comment to the serf, oblivious to the blind devotion that was in front of him. Now, he had something to show Aleios, to show that the 5th was every bit as good as the 4th. Now, to go and see what Aleois wanted from him.

*

Darios stood around the makeshift table, a large slab of rubble, along with the other seven remaining sergeants of the 4th, as well as Epistolary Isayos and Chaplain Mydrin. Captain Aleios stood at the head, his extravagant armour standing out against the dull grey of the concrete behind him. The northern CP was the most secure of the Lords' command posts, due to having been one of the bunkers guarding the former PDF barracks. Unfortunately, before the forces of the Imperium wrested it back from the rebels, an ill-judged bombing raid had devastated all communications devices in this sector of the city, so, for the moment at least, they were reduced to their helmet's commlinks and hand signals.

The other sergeants looked like he felt. Tired, with fatigue-etched lines on their cheeks and frustration in their eyes. This war was dragging on too long. There was no clue as to where the enemy was, save for the man Darios had captured. And only Aleois, Isayos and Mydrin knew what that was.

He lifted his head as he heard the thumping of power-armoured footsteps approaching the bunker. Captain Raseos of the 5th Company entered, followed by the seven sergeants of his company and one other Marine holding a terrified rebel, dressed in a motley selection of carapace armour, PDF uniform, and servants robe. Captain Raseos, however commanded Darios' attention. Tall, even for a Space Marine, he wore his armour plain, with only the chapter symbol and the Aquila as decoration. Compared to Aleois' armour the effect was startling. For one that had won so much honour, there was not a single campaign badge anywhere upon him. His face told a different story, however. Ridged with scars, and a broken nose that had not set properly, his face gave the impression of a true veteran. He and Aleois could not have been more different.

'We found a group of seven traitors in my CP less than an hour ago. This is the only survivor,' Raseos rumbled. His voice was deep, and boomed like thunder in the enclosed space. It was a voice that was meant for screaming charges and war cries. 'Seeing as I have no Librarian nor Chaplain left, I thought it best if yours would question him.'

'Wise counsel, Captain,' Aleois replied. He gave a curt nod to Mydrin and Isayos, and they went forward and took the captive from the Marine holding him. They took him outside, and the screaming started. It quietened after a short while, and soon after that it stopped and they brought him back in.

'He had a stronger mind than the other one, Captain, but is now quite, quite mad. He confirmed what we already knew, nothing more,' Isayos said is his calm, quiet voice.

'He repented towards the end, and I saw a use for him, so he is still alive for the moment,' the Chaplain added, his voice a strange counterpart to the calmness of the Librarians. It was low, and very carefully controlled.

'And what was this use?' Raseos demanded. 'He is a heretical traitor, he turned from the Emperor's Light! He should be put to death this instant!'

"If we release him, he will naturally go to places that mean much to him. This likely includes where the Governer has been hiding, seeing as this piece of filth,' Mydrin gave teh man a light kick, 'was one of his personal servants.'

'Well done Mydrin, Isayos,' Aleois said, intervening before Raseos could speak. 'Now, for the information that we discovered prior to this, we have discovered that Caquis has been summoning daemons to control his populace, those that are not loyal to him.' There were murmurings of disgust at this. They were soon silenced by Raseos' glare.

'Thank you, Captain,' Aleios muttered, and Raseos shot him an expression that Darios could not identify. 'Now that we have the means to discover Caquis' whereabouts, I suggest that the 4th, supported by some of our Chapter's Scouts, launch an attack-'

'We have more experience in combatting daemons and their ilk, Captain,' Raseos interrupted. 'And the 5th are closer to the front lines than the 4th. Your men have also been patrolling while mine have been on guard duty, and I think they need a chance to. . . stretch their legs, as it were.'

Darios could almost see the mental effort Aleios was making to try and garner the 4th more honour, but in the end his Captain acquiesced, and the talk turned to that of ammunition shortage, with the sergeants providing greter input than the Captains.

There's something between them, Darios mused. They aren't telling us something.

*

[Papewaio]

Council Gatherings - Part 2

 

Aleios sighed, in his private quarters once again. He had been spending more and more time within this room, he realised, and glanced around to try and gain some insight as to why. Plain, as the rest of the CP was, with a steel cot in the corner and a chair by the too-small wooden desk. He crossed over to that, and attempted to sort out the jumble of papers, the reports, suggestions, and questions from Colonel Heryno, commander of the Imperial Guard and Adeptus Arbites forces on Trasium III. Still, Aleois knew that the Colonel was just as frustrated as he was with the lack of information. Heryno also had to contend with desertion and treachery within his ranks, something Aleois knew his men would never do. He allowed himself a small measure of pride in that fact.

He moved away from the desk, rubbing his left eye. Yes, he was tired. He had spent far too much time awake, taking more antifatigue tablets than he should be. Even for a Space Marine, who could go without sleep for weeks on end, he had been awake too long. He had not been using his Catalepsean Node, either. He had to keep all of his brain awake in order to solve the riddles and tantalizing half-clues left by the patterns of enemy. So far, they had seemed to adopt the same tactics as the Lords, and were sending small groups out patrolling. But what were they waiting for? Caquis was a military man, so he must know that he could have driven the Imperial forces off-world weeks ago. Instead he sent his men out piecemeal, allowing the Lords to decimate his forces while taking few of their own.

He sighed again. He was going in circles. His thoughts turned to the council earlier, and to Captain Raseos in particular. Oh, the man was a skilled enough tactician and warrior, sure enough, else he would have never made his rank. But he was too caught up in securing honour for his company. So am I, he thought ruefully. But still, Raseos acted like too much like he was a soldier of the line, not a commanding officer. Aleois thought of his armour, and snorted with derision. No ornamentation! Was Raseos too proud to acknowledge the deeds of his men? Because that is what the campaign badges spoke of, the bravery and skill of the Marines under your command.

'Captain?' a distinctive voice asked. Aleios looked up, knowing he would see Chaplain Mydrin standing in his doorway. He looked at the holy Marine, considering him for a moment. The armour Mydrin wore was black, so defined by the holy Codex Astartes, with the Chapter symbol and Imperial Aquila. Skulls also ornamented the obsidian, providing counterpoints of bone against the darkness. His helmet was also styled as a skull. The Marine inside the armour was a good one, keeping the company's faith together when needed. Such as now, the Captain thought.

'Yes, Chaplain? What is it?' he said. 'You have not sought a private audience with me since the day I was inducted as Captain of your company, if memory serves me.'

'Yes Captain. However, I have not had concerns such as I have now. You have led us across the stars, doing our holy Emperor's Will, and our company has not yet faced the direct servants of the Ruinous Powers,' Mydrin stated, his oddly controlled voice filling with wonder at the Emperor's name, before resume its standard quality.

'This is one of the reasons why Captain Raseos and the Marines of the 5th are taking the Governor, and not we, Chaplain. What are your concerns?' Aleois replied, troubled. If his Chaplain had reservations about this, maybe he should talk to Raseos.

'This I know, Captain. However, during the Tueras Campaign, the 5th Company had Chaplain Castroh still with them. Now they have none, and it would not do for any member of our holy Chapter to fall into the grips of self-service, and the service of the Dark Gods.'

'You bring a very good point, Chaplain. Do you wish to accompany Captain Raseos and his men in this coming battle?' Aleios asked. Why had he not thought of this?

'I believe it would be wise for me to, yes, Captain. However, I also have a concern about this esteemed Company. It is true that we have not encountered the daemonic before, despite the rebellions we have put down, and I am concerned that the thought of the Daemon might be worse than the Daemon itself,' Mydrin said, his voice still betraying no emotion. 'We have to fight the daemons as soon as we can, Captain, to reassure the men that we can prevail against the worst Chaos can fight us with.'

'I agree. We shall continue patrolling until the 5th have secured the Governer, and then lead an attack against the Warp-spawn. Is that agreeable to you, Chaplain?' Aleios asked. He knew he did not have to seek Mydrin's approval, but the Chaplain had more experience in these matters than he.

'It will have to be, Captain. With your permission?' Mydrin gestured towards the door, and Aleois nodded. Mydrin left the room, and Aleois felt uneasy. If the Chaplain had approached him, Mydrin must have been feeling quite strongly about this. Everyone is on edge, he thought, but the sooner we kill Caquis the sooner we shall fight a proper war.

*

Sergeant Darios stamped his feet on the ground to loosen up his muscles. He had been standing on guard duty for over six hours and had another four to go. Stamping his feet was a breach of his duty, but only a small one at that, and one he thought was justified. After all, his auspex showed nothing for five kilometres, and his legs were beginning to seize up.

Turning his head to glance towards the other members of his squad, he reflected upon the fact that he was the only one to have moved in the six hours of standing there. Not that he could claim credit their discipline. He might lead the squad, and command the loyalty of his Marines, but the one who kept them in line, stopped them from becoming lax in their duties, was Jidairo. Even now he was looking at his sergeant, and Darios knew that there would be a glare upon his face. He was grateful to Jidairo for performing what should have been his task, for it was grim and thankless work. As a result, Jidairo was respected, but not liked as Darios was. Still, he was uncompromising in combat and there was no other Marine in his squad whom he would rather at his side.

A flashing red light in the top left corner of his helmet display indicated that there was movement five klicks to his right. He glanced over at the other Marines again, pointed at Helyain, and they moved off to investigate. Keeping to the shadows, they moved soundlessly towards the flickering red light shown to their displays. Soon, they came across a silhouette of power armour.

'Well, if it isn't our esteemed brethren, Sergeant Darios and Brother Helyain,' the approaching figure said. He was encased in armour that bore the colours of the Lords of Retribution's 5th Company.

'Sergeant Felian,' Darios greeted him. 'What in the Emperor's name were you doing out there? Have you gone deaf, or do you like the taste of steel rain? You heard the Captain order blanket bombing out there, in preparation of the attack.'

'Aye, our Raseos is a tough one, that's for sure,' Felian chuckled. 'Our eminent Captain ordered me to take a team of scouts to find the ambushes that will surely lie along the path we have chosen.'

'And where is your team, Sergeant?' Helyain inquired innocently.

'You know very well where, Marine,' Felian replied, light-hearted devilry in his voice. 'Sitting back in the CP, sleeping and laughing at poor old Felian who was selected to do a bit of recon. No, Captain Raseos saw fit to send only one, so to minimize possible casualties.'

Seeing that Helyain was only going to tease him further, Darios said, 'Well, you've successfully distracted us from our duty for long enough Sergeant. Continue on.'

Felian gaped in mock astonishment. 'This is Sergeant Darios, yes? Where is the Marine I knew who hated guard duty?'

'Wishing he could stay and talk, Felian.' With that, Darios moved back towards where his squad was. Shaking his head, Helyain did the same.

The others were in exactly the same positions as before. Darios shook his head at Jidairo, and looked away. He knew what Jidairo wanted from that. He wanted it himself. They were Astartes, not guard dogs. They were bred for fighting, not standing still. The Guardsmen fighting in the east could do this job just as well as them. Darios lamented the fact that Captain Aleois had let the 5th have the honour of taking the rebel's leader, Governor Caquis, over the 4th.

Darios resumed scanning the surrounding roads and ruins, while his mind sped off on another tangent. What was Caquis hoping to gain by seceding from the Imperium? he wondered. Surely he knew we would come down on him.

*

Epistolary Isayos stalked through the ruined streets, knowing that his Captain would want him to go along with the 5th Company's attack, because of the daemons. And if Aleois didn't, than Mydrin certainly would. He and the Chaplain remained the only ones in the Company who had fought the servants of the Ruinous Powers and lived, Mydrin due to his unwavering faith in his Emperor and Isayos because of his otherworldly gifts. Yet Mydrin did not know what he risked every time he reached for power, else he would probably demand that Isayos be killed on the spot. None on this forsaken world understood what he was required to do. Even sending a message, like Aleois asked him to frequently, carried potential disaster. Because of the inherent danger of what he was, he had never drawn on more than a fraction of his power. But having his battle-brothers ignorant of the true meaning of his gift was preferable to being killed outright. And yet. . .

No! I must not go down that path, Isayos told himself. That leads to loss of control, losing my will. He would not risk what little standing he had in his Chapter to rid himself of his deception.

Looking up from the cracked path that bore him, he realised where he was. Outside the northern bunker, where he had broke the mind of the traitor Raseos had brought to the council. He felt no remorse at this, because he was a Marine, bred for combat. And not just combat, bred for more than this . . . No! Recognising the familiar thoughts, he slammed the walls of self-control back around his mind. Those thoughts would not benefit him or his Chapter.

Eager to escape the confines of his mind, he pushed his consciousness out, and noticed the mind patterns of a chapter serf nearby. Curious as to why a serf would be out of a CP, he headed towards the source. Maybe it's a message for me, or another member of the 4th, he thought. If it was for him, it was almost certainly from Aleois. Preoccupied with his thoughts, he did not notice the serf until it called out to him.

'Epistolary! Chaplain Mydrin requests your presence. He is at the 4th Company's main command post. Do you wish me to direct the way?'

'No. I am capable,' Isayos replied, keeping his voice neutral. He started walking once again. He must appear in control, because if he didn't, others would start to question his worth to the Chapter. And from that position it was a short step to death, and he was still useful to the Chapter, as were all Librarians. Mydrin was one of the few who openly displayed his dislike of psykers, but tolerated the Epistolary because he had seen what Isayos could do. But why did Mydrin want to see him now? Had he already offered his support to Raseos, and felt Isayos should too, before he was ordered to? And would Raseos accept it? Within the 5th's Captain Isayos saw a proud Marine that brooked little tolerance with that he did not understand. And seeing as Raseos' psyker had died three years ago, and he had still not recieved a replacement, the Epistolary doubted very much that he would understand how Isayos fought.

Having reached the CP, he paused for a moment to organise his thoughts. Expelling a breath, he pushed open the door to Mydrin's quarters. Entering the room, he noted the large banner of the Company adorning one wall, and various scriptures on the opposite. Other than that, however, it was similar to his own, with a steel cot and a chair in the corner. The Chaplain was seated on the cot, and Isayos was waved into the chair.

'My brother, what have you summoned me for?' the Librarian said when his host was not forthcoming.

'In preparation for the seizure of Governer Caquis, the good Captain Raseos is gathering up his veterans of the Tueras Campaign in order to form his task force. He has also ordered the venerable Uliad to be deployed on support of his troops. Captain Aleois has seen fit to attach myself to the force in order to bolster faith in the Emperor and reducing the effect that the daemons create amongst Raseos' men. You know all to well how. . .debilitating their aura can be,' Mydrin replied to the query.

Is there really nothing else to this conversation? Isayos thought. He is being straightforward as always, so is his only aim to convince me to fight alongside him? He gave no indication of his thoughts however, merely nodding for Mydrin to continue.

'I believe that having fought daemons before, the Marines that Captain Raseos is attaining to fight will be less liable to the effects of these ones. However, the Daemon is many and varied, and so we will likely be fighting those of a different nature than what has been faced before. It would therefore increase our chances of victory further if you were to accompany us.' Mydrin's voice was, if possible, more controlled than before, as if this conversation had more to it than the surface of it revealed.

'What if I believed that my talents would be more suitable here, helping Captain Aleois defend our perimeter? And another concern: if both you and I were to fall in the same battle, who would have the expertise needed to question the renegade Governor?' Isayos countered.

'I have not spoken to either Captain about you yet, Epistolary, but I have faith that Captain Aleois has sufficient experience to conduct a successful defence. As to your other point, both of us are, in all modesty, exceedingly adept fighters, and I do not believe that either of us would fall to these scum who have turned from the Emperor's Light, ' Mydrin said, his voice without inflection anywhere.

'Ah, but our esteemed Captain Aleois has not had experience in combatting the daemonic, and I think it folly to risk all of that experience in one possible trap,' Isayos reminded him.

'Trap?' The question was posed innocently enough, but with a multitude of dangerous connotations bubbling beneath it.

'Why, yes. Does it not strike you as odd that, despite being starved of information for the majority of this campaign so far, Sergeant Darios captures a prisoner that brings rumours of daemons, and the very same day, Captain Raseos brings a possible lead to the rogue Governer?' Isayos said, surprised that the Chaplain had not thought of this already.

'Your mind is greater tactically then mine, brother. This I admit freely. However, I still feel it would be beneficial to our success if you would offer your services to Captain Raseos,' Mydrin said. 'If you think your services would be better employed by Captain Aleois at this time, I shall inform both he and Captain Raseos. That is, unless you wish to do so yourself?'

'No, I have other duties to attend to, Chaplain,' Isayos said, newfound thoughts swirling in the caverns of his brain. 'With your leave?'

Mydrin motioned towards the door, and Isayos left, thinking. What game is Mydrin playing? Chapter politics rarely get to the point where I cannot discern what is happening. What does Mydrin want?

*

 

 

 

 

Let me know your thoughts! :lol:

[Alys]

Really enjoying this! Inspired me to write a little blurb on mine! I hope it carries on!

[Lady_Canoness]

It's definately progressing, though one comment I must make strictly on behalf of myself is that I am having a hard time keeping your characters straight. It usually happens for me in space marine novels because they are so similar in most regards (with a few exceptions).

In your case, the similar names, descriptions, and styles in their voices still confuses me when it comes captains and sergeants - though Chaplain Mydrin and Epistolary Isayos are clearer because of who they are :D

 

My own difficulties aside, keep it up!

[Papewaio]

Thanks guys. Comments help a lot, so keep them coming! It's a little disheartening to see lots of views but few comments.

 

@Alys: Great! Let me know where it is if you've already posted it.

 

@ Lady_Canoness: Yeah, it is a little tricky. Space Marines by nature are very similar. I can't see all of them being as individualistic as, say, the Space Wolves, because the Lords are largely a Codex chapter, but with the next few installments I'll try to flesh them out further.

[Papewaio]

Fear of Retribution Part Three - The Foolishness of Honour

 

 

'Furthermore, Sergeant Raseos has more than proved his devotion to the Chapter with his countless raids against the cultists of Beluan V, having slain a great and powerful Daemon. It is my suggestion that we elevate our brother Marine to the post of Captain of the 5th Company in light of the demise of Captain Indriusk against the very same Daemon. So I say to him, rise, Captain Raseos of the Lords of Retribution, Daemonbane!'

- Excerpt of the speech made by Chapter Master Relth upon the promotion of Captain Raseos

*

The column of Marines moved silently through the streets of the once-proud city, just as the sun was bent over the horizon, bleeding its last light over the sky. Past ruined factories and shattered altars to the immortal God-Emperor, between piles of walls and upturned roads they went. Space Marines of the Lords of Retribution's 5th Company, accompanied by two of the ancient battle tanks of the Chapter and the Venerable Uliad advanced, betraying a stealth not guessed by the bulk of their armour. At the head of the Company crept an advance guard of the 10th Company's Scouts, aspiring Marines who were in the final phase of their training. Their job was to lead the force, following the tracks left by the traitor that had been released that morning. The Epistolary of the 4th Company had made sure that he would not be able to speak of the Marines following him to his masters.

With them moved Captain Raseos, the commander of this army of fearsome might. The Captain's armour had not been polished since the beginning of the campaign, and so the normally shining bronze was dull and scarred, a fact that served him well in the streets darkened by dusk. The lines of men that moved through the street all knew the risks of the plan that he had outlined to his sergeants that morning. He was relying upon the natural resiliency of the Astartes under his command, and the shock and fear tactics that he and his men knew so well. They also knew that there would be a possibility of fighting not just the traitorous scum that had rebelled against the benevolent Emperor's rule. Still, he had confidence in his men. They had faced the daemonic servants of the Chaos Gods before and prevailed, and Raseos had no doubt that they would do again, should they face them. With an ugly grimace on his face, he recalled the plan his equal in the 4th Company, Captain Aleois, had suggested. Sending in one team to capture the renegade Governor and bring him back to have an example made. Bah! That was a plan for those who did not possess the pride and battle-fury of the Lords of Retribution. Besides, Raseso thought, Aleois might be a sound tactician in the open battlefield, but in urban warfare I am supreme. He would do well to remember that, even if he has been a Captain longer than I have.

Going further with his reminiscence of the day earlier, he recalled the reverence shown to the Venerable Uliad when the ancient Dreadnought had made planetfall that morning. Marines had flocked to the drop pod that had held the oldest member of the Company, eager to catch a glance at one of the most scared relics in their possession. Uliad had been interred into his immeasurably old armour seven centuries ago, and continued to serve the Lords with distinction, smiting the enemies of the Emperor in uncountable battlezones. Raseos turned to catch a glance of the revered war machine. The bronze and blue livery was adorned with hundreds of purity seals and campaign badges, far more than would ever be part of any living Captain's armour. The Dreadnought bore an assault cannon that had been blessed by the Chaplain Mydrin before the 5th moved out, and an unbelievably ancient power fist. The fist crackled with a disruptive energy shield, and was many times larger than those wore by some of the sergeants, nearly as tall as a chapter serf. Despite the immense bulk of the main body of his support system, Uliad planted his mechanical feet only in places where they would make as little noise as possible, experience from hundreds of years of warfare guiding him. We are truly lucky to be granted the honour, Raseos thought. And it was an honour. The planning of this had been influenced, in no small part, by the venerable Dreadnought. Uliad had outlined the flaws and merits of the 5th Captain's original plan, and added a few bold twists that should grant them victory over the rebel scum.

Continuing with his recollections, Raseos had been surprised when Chaplain Mydrin had asked to be allowed to take part under his command. The Captain's initial reaction had been one of scorn, believing that Aleois had sent the Chaplain to insinuate that the 5th could not take Caquis. A moments thought, and some talk with Mydrin, had convinced him that the presence of the holy Marine might bolster the morale of his battle-brothers should the Daemons come. Aleois' Chaplain understands me better than his master, and that is a failing for the Captain. Still, he shows enough sense to send Mydrin along. Raseos considered for a moment, and then frowned as he circumvented a fallen staircase. If his Chaplain, why not Isayos? Surely he, among all of the Lords on this planet, could provide a surety of success.But however much he denied it, there was something undeniably. . . not frightening, because Raseos was a Space Marine, and Space Marines felt no fear, but the Epistolary unsettled him. That icy gaze was unnerving, and so, for reasons he could not describe, Captain Raseos was glad that the psyker had not volunteered his unique abilities.

'Captain,' one of the Scouts up ahead whispered into his commlink. 'Come up here.' Raseos then broadcast a message for all troops to hold, and went to the leader of the Scouts. Vehios was his name, if he remembered correctly. The Scout gestured and said, 'The tracks, they go in circles, the prisoner, no sight. We do not know where the mind-broken has gone.'

Raseos started. He had not expected this. It had been a possibility, but he had dimissed it as unlikely. He did a quick scan of the surrounding buildings, inspecting each one for a few seconds. They had stopped in a quite open part of the street they had been following for some time.

'What do you mean, you don't know where the prisoner is!' Raseos snapped, his temper frayed, having kept his senses out on alert for the past few hours. 'How could you lose him here of all places. This section of street is the most open for miles! He cant've disappeared into one of the buildings, they're too-' Raseos spun, made a curt, chopping motion with his hand, and hissed to the Scouts, 'Ambush!' The Captain's mind raced, trying to figure out how the traitors had outmaneuvered him. He prided himself on his knowledge of cityfighting, so how had he allowed them to get him into this position?

The first shots rang out even as he and the Scouts started moving back. Seeing six of his men fall under the fist salvo, and recognising the hopelessness of their position, he turned towards one of the buildings where he had seen fire come from, and bellowed the Chapter's war cry, and heard his men shout it with him as they charged the buildings, following their Captain's example:

'For the Pride of Death!'

*

Captain Raseos' counterpart, Captain Aleois, sighed. By the Emperor, Raseos was an impatient fool! Rushing off to go and capture the renegade Governor, even pulling his Dreadnought onto the planet's surface to try and show Aleois that he knew better, that he was Daemonbane! The things that man would do if he felt his Company's honour was in doubt. Too rash, the ageing Captain thought, too rash. On this world of heretics and traitors, the Lords must proceed with caution, not charge headfirst into whatever trouble they could find with their eyes closed. Raseos' plan had a chance of succeeding, not a near certainty as Aleois' that he had suggested. If all Captains to be promoted were as the 5th's, he could truly see no future for the Chapter. The veteran campaigner wished that his Chaplain was with him, so he could ease his burden of secrets and lies needed to keep the Chapter in general, and his Company in particular, running smoothly. He sometimes wondered if it was safe to trust Mydrin with so much knowledge, but he was a Chaplain and would only let those secrets out if he felt that they could harm the Emperor or the Chapter. His Librarian, on the other hand, would sell those secrets, or use them to gain a hold over his Captain, most likely. He most certainly did not trust the Epistolary Isayos.

However, if by some miracle Raseos did manage to capture Caquis, then the sooner the Lords could leave this hellhole of a planet. Every day they spent on Trasium III was a day that ate away at his soul, for Aleois could not shake the feeling of impending doom. Maybe I'm just feeling dramatic, he thought. Maybe all those years and all those battles are finally catching up to me. He considered this awhile, pulling a map of the city out from underneath the sheets of loose paper. He looked at it critically, and lamented the fact that he had no knowledge of where the enemy were hiding. All our experience and neither I nor Raseos can predict where that heretic will strike!

Banishing the angry thoughts and frustration from his mind, he called to one of the serfs to fetch Isayos. Perhaps the psyker might know what to make of the meaningless reports sent by Colonel Heryno. As far as Aleois could tell, Heryno had been having more and more men disappear from their positions. More worryingly, those deserters had been appearing in the ranks of the enemy. To combat this, the Colonel had called for more men, and another three regiments were on their way, including the famed Catachan XXVI. The Captain of the 4th had counseled the Imperial Commander against this, as it brought more potential enemies, and would have preferred troops whose loyalty was much less in doubt. Adepta Sororitas, perhaps, the Sisters of Battle would be much less likely to fall in with the rogue Governor.

There was a soft knock at the wall, and the Epistolary entered Aleois' quarters. The Captain was struck by the gaze of the Marine; as if its owner knew everything about you, and he would let you do what you would because he simply had no interest. His armour was not he standard bronze of the Lords of Retribution, but blue, as befitted him as the Company's Librarian.

'Yes, my Captain? You called for me?' The voice was as soft as ever, with just a hint of fatigue running through it.

'Yes, Epistolary. I wondered if you have any conclusions or ideas from the latest copies of reports sent by our friend the Colonel,' Aleois replied. 'He has sent for three more regiments of Guard, and they should be in the system within twenty Standard days. However, I have concerns regarding the requirement of more manpower, in that mere men might turn against us, as some of Heryno's has.'

'No, Captain. I shared my thoughts on the enemy and his movements in the last talk we had. They have not changed since then. As to the matter of more men, it is certain some of the newcomers will defect, but the good Colonel needs the extra manpower in order to hold his position on the river in the East. The renegades have been mounting ever-increasing attack on that sector. It is probably our weakest link,' Isayos replied. Why does he ask me this? he wondered. He knows this as well as I. What act drives him to seek out meaningless conversation with I, the outcast? Is there a deeper meaning he is trying to get across to me?

Aleois pondered a moment, and then broached another topic. 'When our brother Mydrin offered his services to the 5th Company in support of his attack, why did you not do the same, Librarian?' The tone was demanding, almost accusatory.

Isayos replied after a small pause, saying 'I had considered it, but if the attack failed, you would be left with no psychic defense and be bereft of all experience in matters daemonic, should that knowledge be required.' Should I tell him of Mydrin's attempt to make me go? No, I cannot afford to let distrust be sown amongst our ranks, the Epistolary thought.

The Captain wondered at the pause before Isaysos spoke. Does he need to think of a reason to cover his true intent, or does he mean to just give that impression? The impression left upon Aleois from long years of Chapter politics was that of misdirection as chief tool, and the Marine before him was a master of it.

'Those reasons you give me are those I had myself for not asking you myself,' the aged Captain said, thinking And Raseos does not need to exert his influence upon you, nor you upon him. 'Very well then Isayos, you may go. As soon as Captain Raseos returns, I will require your presence once more.' And he looked down at his desk in clear dismissal.

The psyker left, his thoughts left in turmoil by the things left unsaid. Trying to figure out what each Captain and their advisers wanted and were willing to do was a great task, and one not lightly embarked upon, even for those blessed with the mental strength to do so. Once entered, you cannot escape the politics within a Chapter, the Epistolary realised. And now I cannot get out.

[Lady_Canoness]

Keep it going - it seems like you are building up to something here.

 

How much longer do you plan to carry the story-arc? The characters you have so far seem to be being built up for something greater, which I assume will come later - especially the Epistolary.

 

:)

[Papewaio]

Is it that obvious? :)

 

I'm planning on this being a fairly long story, broken into three pieces. The first of them is Fear of Retribution, and I haven't named the other two as yet. I don't want to get too far ahead of myself!

 

Each character has a very clearly defined role in the grand scheme of things, and some of those roles will become clearer quicker than others.

[Papewaio]

Fear of Retribution Part 4 - The Might of Gods

 

In light of the developing situation in Trasium III, I have decided to grace the heretical rebels with my Chapter's presence in order to show them the error of their ways. My Captains and their Companies shall cleanse the surface of the defiled planet. Captain Raseos and his 5th Company will be dispatched as a test of his abilities, and to provide caution and experience Captain Aleois and his 4th will follow. I have unwavering belief that these two will follow my orders competently enough to return Trasium III to it's rightful ruler.

- excerpt from Chapter Master Relth's response to call for aid

*

Captain Raseos tore into the rebels inside the tall building. Two fell quickly under his thunder hammer, and another one had been crushed under the impetus of the charge. He would have shot as well, but he had lost his bolt pistol on his first attack after he realised they had been ambushed. Recovering from his two deathblows, he turned to face the remaining four men, of which two had leveled their lasguns at him.

'Stay where you are, or we'll shoot!' one of them commanded. He was a burly man, but his face was drained of colour, having just seen three of his comrades fall in the space of a few seconds. The Captain just laughed, and threw his hammer at him. The force of the throw knocked his head off and the hammer continued on until it broke a hole in the wall behind the headless corpse. Raseos shifted to the left, and rushed the other traitor with the lasgun. He swatted him with his hands, ignoring the screams and the grisly crunch of breaking bone, and continued on to the remaining men. He saw the terror in their eyes, and reveled in it. This was what he was made for!

Snapping a punch into one chest and flinging the corpse of the headless man at the other, Captain Raseos stalked outside to collect his hammer. Retrieving it, he returned inside to lay a blow on the last living rebel lying underneath the dead body. He then exited the building, roaring the Chapter's war cry, and spied shots coming down from an upper story of a building to his left. Bellowing, Raseos ran inside and saw two men guarding the doorway.

Both were quicker than Raseos had expected. One of them seized his hammer and the other threw himself away from the towering Marine. Dropping his hammer, he shoved the closest one into a wall, hearing his spine break from the force. Ducking under shots loosed by his next enemy, Raseos grabbed his dropped thunder hammer and swung it even as he charged. The blow punctured the man's lungs, and the Marine left him gasping for breath, knowing he would die in the next few minutes. He ran up the stairs, intending to silence the rebels who shot at his men. As he reached the top of the staircase, he heard the distinctive whump of a krak missile in flight. He dropped, falling backwards down the steps he had just climbed. An explosive roar blew apart the room he had been about to enter, and debris showered Raseos. The ruined building shuddered with the new damage, and with a series of groans the walls folded in upon the spot where the missile had hit. Before Raseos could do anything about it, he had been engulfed in the falling rubble. Buried alive under tonnes of brick and mortar, that even he could not hope to move from his position underneath it.

*

The Venerable Uliad witnessed his Captain go down underneath the collapsing building, and lumbered towards it, ignoring the dozens of las shots glancing off his outer skeleton. In seconds the Lords' well-ordered column had disintegrated, squads fighting against shadows and the flashes of lasfire. Uliad could not guess how many of the enemy there were, but that was not his place. He was a symbol of the Chapter, and he would slaughter the enemies of the Emperor for as long as he could, no matter where they were or how numerous they could be.

Halfway towards Captain Raseos, the Dreadnought noticed a group of six rebels standing in a circle, chanting, oblivious to the gunfight that was raging around them. In the centre was a totem, an icon of unholy power that was flickering with light. The air around the group was hazy, as if the ground around them was extremely hot. Every so often the icon pulsed with malevolence. Uliad went cold inside. These men were trying to open a rift in realspace, to summon Daemons to this world of the Emperor's. They will not succeed, he vowed.

Changing course from the building where his Captain disappeared, the Venerable Uliad unleashed a storm of bullets from his assault cannon towards the heretics. However, the hail of fire did not even get near them; it simply slowed down and dropped to the cracked concrete on which they stood. Uliad accepted this without cursing, for he did not think stopping the summoning of Daemons to be quite so easy. He ran faster, willing the mechanical supports that functioned as his legs to move faster. Once near the dissenting scum, he moved his ancient power fist towards one of them. He gripped the mans head, and squeezed. The splatter of gore landed on Uliad as well as the dead scums companions, who did not seem to notice the inconvenience. On the contrary to what the Dreadnought expected, the droning grew faster, and a fevered quality entered the voices. Uliad brought his weapons around and backhanded another traitor, sending him flying into a group of Marines fifty metres away. The blessed assault cannon roared once again, and this time it had an effect upon the remaining cultists, shredding their bodies into bloody ribbons.

Confident that the servants of the Dark Gods no longer had a conduit to this reality, Uliad continued along his path towards Captain Raseos. He had not gone more than three steps when a loud boom of thunder echoed across the city, loud enough to drown the sounds of battle. A second boom sounded, followed by a third. The Venerable Dreadnought turned towards where he had killed the cultists, and saw the tear in the fabric of the world. A violent slash showcased the way into the Warp, a swirling mass of coiling shapes. The glowing light enamating from the rent shone in the encroaching darkness. And from within than that slash came shapes, beings made of hard muscle and bone, wielding fearsome greatswords in their clawed hands. They were the colour of blood, with black horns that were as sharp as their swords. Tongues protruded from their mouths, whipping to and fro while their cloven feet took their first steps in the material realm. Seeing the Lords of Retribution, they gave great howls of delight. Uliad could not allow them to attack his brethren without warning, else they would be slaughtered, for the Dreadnought had faced the Daemons, these servants of the Blood God before.

'DAEMONS! COME FACE ME, FOR I AM YOUR DEATH!' Uliad's shout was heard by every Marine and Daemon, and they both rushed towards the source of it. The Bloodletters got there first, and they met the ancient member of the Chapter with a hate not seen amongst mortal men. But Uliad's skill in the art of death was greater than any the daemons had, and he fought for time to allow the other Lords to rally to him. The Hellblades carried by the Warp-spawn could not damage the thick armour of the Dreadnought, but they sank deep into it, leaving marks upon it everywhere. Not all of the Lords came, busy as they were fighting the traitorous humans, but enough came to match the Bloodletters. In the centre of the melee was the Venerable Uliad, laying deathblows everywhere. If a Daemon stood before the revered machine, it died. For a time it seemed as if the 5th might win the day, and emerge from the ambush victorious. But a rebel crept towards the Warp portal unseen, and chanted in the same manner as those who originally summoned the Bloodletters.

With a gory crack, the rebel exploded in a spray of blood and viscera, and in his place stood a Greater Daemon of Khorne. Five times as tall as a Space Marine it stood, with gigantic leathery wings unfurling from its back. In its left hand it held a vicious barbed whip, and it its right was a great axe that was stained with blood shed millennia ago. Great ivory horns extended from its head and hundreds of teeth sat in its maw. It stood, surveying the battle in which it found itself, and bellowed a challenge to any on the planet who would dare try and kill it.

The Bloodthirster rampaged towards Uliad and the Bloodletters, killing indiscriminately on its way. Rebels and Marines alike felt the bite of that monstrous axe as it neared the Dreadnought's conflict. The whip rose and fell, tearing three Marines into the reach of the Bloodletters, which in turn were trampled under the Bloodthirster's hooves as it reached the Venerable Uliad. With one blow of its axe, it achieved what the lesser daemons were unable to; it split the Dreadnought's front armor open. And so Uliad the Venerable Dreadnought finally ended his service in the name of the Emperor.

*

Sergeant Felian saw the Greater Daemon enter this plane, saw it kill the Venerable Uliad as easily as he would an insect, and saw that his Company would die if it stayed where it was. He gathered the remains of his squad around him and ran towards the Chaplain who was fighting three Bloodletters by himself. The Chaplain was keeping up a stream of litanies that Felian assumed were battle-chants. His squad fell in alongside Mydrin and quickly killed the daemons.

'We need to leave, Chaplain. We'll be slaughtered if we stay,' Felian told Mydrin. The Chaplain merely nodded, and spoke into his commlink, ordering all remaining troops to fall back to the 4th Company. As one, all Marines disengaged from their enemies and began a retreat back along the buildings, using the shadows as cover. It was not a rout, the Lords were far too disciplined for that, but the rebels harried them as they left their dead and dying.

'Sergeant, why are we retreating? And why aren't we gathering our brothers' geneseed?' Gosran asked Felian, blasting away at a group of men struggling to set up a lascannon, the had pilfered from a dead Space Marine. 'And why aren't the Warp-spawn following us like the human scum?'

'If it makes you feel any better, we're not retreating, we're simply advancing in reverse. Not a clue as to the daemons, but for the geneseed, do you see a member of the Apothecarion alive?' Felian replied, drawing one of his throwing knives and hurling it through the eye of a rogue Guardsman even as he took aim.

Taking a quick glance around, Felian was shocked to see less than half of his once proud Company leaving the killing ground. How did the fething troops outwit us, outwit our Captain like that? he wondered. Raseos has one of the finest tactical minds in the Chapter for cityfighting.

Mydrin came alongside him as he led his squad into the shadow of a bombed-out factory. In the darkness the Chaplain's black armour was almost invisible, and Felian jumped when his voice said, 'How did they find the secrets for summoning a Daemon of that power, I wonder? That was no effigy of false power, as is usually the case of when we find Daemons.'

'I have fought daemonic cults before, Chaplain, but I have never encountered such a monstrous brute,' the Sergeant replied. One blow, he thought. One blow to kill our Company's finest warrior. 'Did you see where Captain Raseos went to, I lost sight of him after the rebels started shooting.'

'I have not seen his body, yet he did not retreat with us. I believe the enemy has captured him, but why Caquis would want one of our Captains alive, I have not even an inkling of an idea.'

That reply chilled Felian to the bone, scared him more than the sight of the Bloodthirster. He had depended on his Captain making out alive, because they needed a Daemonbane now more than ever.

*

 

Tell me what you think, and any ideas you have on where the story is going. Who knows - you might give me a better idea than the ones I already have!

[Papewaio]

Hey everyone. Unfortunately real life has been catching up with me and I haven't been able to write as much as I have been wanting to, and school is on the brink of starting, so reports will be a little bit slower than they have been. But you don't want to read my excuses, you want to read about the Lords!

 

Fear of Retribution Part 5 Section 1 - Hints of Truth

 

'From my preliminary report I can note the several points from which this current crisis started, the foremost being the capture of Captain Raseos. This display of tactical acumen on the part of Governor Caquis had a more significant effect upon the Lords of Retribution than any other single incident from the Trasium Campaign. It started the madness that we find ourselves in today.'

-Report upon the Trasium Campaign by Inquisitor Grogan Helfaren

*

Shock had rendered Captain Aleois speechless for well over a minute. Chaplain Mydrin and Sergeant Felian of the 5th stood there patiently, still trying to digest the occurrence themselves. It was scarcely four hours since Mydrin had sounded the fall back from the disastrous attempt to capture the rogue Governor and end this pitiful excuse for a war. Four hours since Felian had witnessed his Company's greatest warrior swatted as if no more than a bug by one of the most powerful Daemons he had ever seen. Four hours since he had seen battle-brothers he had fought with for over a century, some of the Imperium's finest warriors, be slaughtered like Bakkaroxes on Salumin Day back on Ariosk. And it had been four hours since his Captain buried alive under a building, from where nobody had seen him leave.

This last piece of news was the particular idea that had filled Aleois' head with shock, that one of the highest ranking Marines on the planet was either dead, or worse, captured. He was confident that Raseos would not break under questioning, but what concerned him was the fact that if Caquis had any pet psykers, he would be able to tear the knowledge from Raseos' mind. And it was nigh impossible to call Daemons onto the material plane without some connection to the Warp. As far as Aleois knew, Raseos had never been interrogated by use of psychic powers before, so it was a distinct possibility that he would have no way to combat the mental probes.

'Where did he fall?' The question was directed at Felian, but the Captain stared at Mydrin like he was on fire and the Chaplain were a sea.

'From where we were ambushed, the third building on the right towards the north,' the Sergeant said, pulling the map on the desk towards him and gesturing towards the general direction. 'Not many saw the Captain fall, and so the rest of the Company is just learning of this travesty now.'

Aleois pondered a moment. 'Do we know for sure that Captain Raseos is alive? He is a Space Marine, but even so, being crushed by a falling building isn't something you can just get up and walk away from. Did any of the enemy see him go down?'

It was Mydrin who replied, cutting off the first words of the Sergeant. 'More than one squad of rebels were around when Captain Raseos entered the building, and despite our efforts, most were still alive when the missile hit it. I believe they would not have let such an opportunity to go to waste.'

Opportunity to destroy our morale or gain information, Aleois thought. Display his dead body or torture him for secrets. 'Very well, we shall have to assume he is alive and being held somewhere in this city. They can't have moved him far in four hours. Sergeant Felian, until we recover your Captain you shall lead your Company. I believe that you are the most experienced out of that which remain. Now, I need you to fetch me the Epistolary and Sergeant Darios.'

The Sergeant nodded, and left the room. Mydrin leaned forward, and said ,'You did not ask him on the total losses from that ambush. Do you wish to be ignorant of these facts?'

Aleois eyed him, and replied, 'It is not your place to question me, Chaplain. However, I have already received reports regarding the destruction of the 2nd, 3rd, 5th and 8th squads, as well as the Venerable Uliad's death. The remaining three squads are under strength and one of the Predators that accompanied the 5th was destroyed. There are no Apothecaries left amongst the remnants of our forces on this planet and so we cannot even recover the fallen's geneseed! I know this, Mydrin, just like I know the fact I should not have allowed Raseos' pride take precedence over the caution that we must apply even more now! Do not tell me I am ignorant.'

The Chaplain moved a step to the left of the desk his Captain sat at, and said in his emotionless voice, 'I am sorry. I did not mean to cause offense or imply that you wished to blind yourself to the danger that is trying to devour us on this forsaken world. I merely offered my concern at what I saw happening.'

'You are forgiven, and I hope that both you and the Emperor will forgive me for the necessary decisions I have made and will make,' the Captain said, allowing his weariness to colour his voice.

Isayos and Darios entered the room, and Mydrin and his Captain resumed their formality. Darios had a faintly puzzled look on his face, while the Epistolary was as in control as ever. Darios asked, 'Captain, is it true Captain Raseos has been captured? He didn't come back with the 5th and none of them saw him during the battle, so the word going around is that Caquis has captured him.'

Aleois sighed. 'Have I not told you to still your tongue and mind more than once, Sergeant? You are an excellent commander, and deadly in close combat, but I have never met a Marine who wanted everything right now as you do.'

'Yes, Captain Aleois. Sorry, Captain Aleois,' Darios said with a most apologetic look upon his face.

'And don't give me that look, I know you're not serious. But yes, the Chaplain and myself believe that Captain Raseos has been captured by Governor Caquis.' He raised a hand, forestalling the Sergeant's questions. 'He was last seen under the ruins of this building here-' he pointed to the map '-when a krak missile was fired into a group of rebels that the Captain was trying to eliminate. Soon after that, however, and our foe summoned daemonic aid, and so none of the 5th saw what happened from there. I have talked with some survivors who have said that the rubble was disturbed when Chaplain Mydrin sounded the retreat. The reason I am telling you this is because both you and your squad, with the aid of some of our Scouts, will be going on a mission to rescue the Captain. You will go at once, before the rebels can obliterate their traces. We need that Captain back, Darios. Do not fail me. Now go and gather up Vehios and his Scouts, and return with the Captain if he is alive.'

Darios nodded, turned, and walked out of the room. A rash one, he is, thought Aleois, but he'll do. He has a very fine tactical mind, even if he takes things too fast. 'Now, Isayos, we need to ensure that Felian does not mismanage the remnants of the Company he has control over. I trust him, but Raseos might have left him and the other sergeants with instructions in case of his death. Here is what I want you to do. . .'

*

Darios gathered up the members of his squad, had got a hold of Vehios and his ten Scouts, and had left to find the building where Raseos had disappeared. He had impressed upon both the Scouts and his Marines that speed and stealth were the key components. They had moved fast, arriving where the battle had taken place within the hour. There were bodies strewn everywhere, both human and Marine, and the blood had not soaked into the ground, like it would have if they were not fighting on concrete roads. Of the Daemons, and the rent in reality, there was no sign. Spent bolter casings littered the ground, being flattened under the weight of the Marines as they were stepped on. They soon found the building in question, now just a pile of rubble that did indeed show signs of having been dug through from the outside. Darios conferred with the leader of the Scouts, and the group followed the trail of blood that led away from the ruin, deeper into the city.

This tracking was done painfully slowly, as in a ruined city it is easy to miss the telltale signs of human passage. But Vehios and his Scouts were well taught, and they led the Marines the the crumbling grey ruins that stood over them like sentinels as they continued ever further into the city. None of the enemy was encountered, despite Darios' fears of being discovered, because the only sign of human activity was the trail they were following. They moved in dead silence, their footfalls the only noise in the echoing streets. They moved slowly, checking every decaying hovel as Vehios scanned the ground and broken walls for the difficult trail. Every time the Scout found something he would simply move forward, and the others, being so alert, would follow him.

After what seemed like days to the Sergeant, his group finally came upon the entrance to a bunker complex that showed less exterior damage than the surrounding ruins. Vehios waved for Darios to come over, and said in a low voice, 'The trail goes inside. It seems a fairly well secured place to try and hold one with such renown as the Captain, so I'd be willing to bet that this is where the scum-' and the Scout's voice went harsh on the word '-would be holding him. Do we go inside knowing nothing about the inside, though, Sergeant?'

'You've been trained well, Vehios, and caution is a valuable thing. However, there are times where a Marine must, how should I say this, see what happens.Do you understand?' Darios replied, raising an eyebrow.

'Make it up as we go along, sir?' Vehios asked with a grin.

'Make it up as we go along? Expunge such thoughts from your head, Scout, we will know exactly what we need to do exactly when we need to, not a moment before,' Darios grinned back. 'Now, we'll enter this, but not like fools. You and Helyain can enter first, bolters up, and once it is secure the rest of us will enter. We will follow my aforementioned plan, which you seem to believe I will make up as I go along, to the letter until we locate and rescue Captain Raseos. We will then return to our forward base as heroes, as all Marines in the Lords of Retribution are. Do you understand, Vehios?'

'Perfectly, Sergeant.' And with that, he gestured to Helyain who kicked the door down, and entered the bunker.

*

 

As always, please comment. I need feedback in order to fine-tune my rough edges. Let me know what you think!

[Papewaio]

Fear of Retribution Part 5 Section 2 - Hints of Truth

 

Helyain and Vehios entered the room with their bolters up, set to fire at anything that moved. As soon as they saw what was inside the rockrete complex, they lowered them, and Helyain stifled a gasp at the site. The Sergeant and the rest of the Lords moved in after them, and Darios swore under his breath. The interior was covered in blood. A few dismembered bodies were scattered around, torn apart by. . . something. The corpses were so disfigured it was hard to say what had killed them, although it was almost certain that the dead were some of the rebels. The blood was everywhere, congealing upon the bodies, dripping from the ceiling and covered the walls like paint.

'What has happened here, Sergeant? What are our orders?' Vehios asked, noticeably pale. The Scout had been in combat before and the horrors of the battlefield were nothing new to him, but the carnage that had been wrought here had visibly shaken him. The other Scouts also looked uneasy at the flagrant display of martial prowess that the room held.

'We continue with our mission, and find Captain Raseos,' Darios replied. 'As to what has happened here, all I can say is that something has been here before us. And it was angry, so I suggest we try to avoid it. Vehios, you're on point. Jidairo, you bring up the rear. Single file.'

Vehios led them through a corridor on the opposite side of the room, following the trail of gore. 'There's no sign of movement on my auspex apart from us, Sergeant.' Darios accepted the information with a nod, and they continued on in silence. The blood slowly thinned out, until it was only on the lower part of the walls and carpeting the floor. Presently, they came to a T-junction, and Vehios led them off to the right. Here and there were more corpses, and by the few patches of what clothing they had left, they bore no signs of allegiance to the Imperium. It continued like this for about an hour, until the Sergeant called a halt. While Jidairo sorted out guards and where they were temporarily stationed, Darios pulled Vehios off to the side and said in an undertone, 'Are you sure the tracks led to here? You couldn't have misread any directions or signs?'

With a pained expression on his face, the Scout replied, 'Tracking isn't an exact art, Sergeant. But, I'm confident in my abilities, and I'm fairly sure that I didn't miss any signs. But my auspex is showing nothing. That leaves one other possibility. Unless you think differently, Sergeant?'

Darios shook his head impatiently. 'Caquis could not have organised a trap in such a short time, I'm sure of it. While a military genius, he is still only human, a trait we do not share with him. That is the reason we have not abandoned Captain Raseos to his fate, the fact that the Governor can not have responded so quickly. Still, I have no other ideas except to keep searching for the Captain. Have you found any tracks inside the building, what with the blood and all?'

'The blood simply obscures the tracks, it doesn't obliterate them. How long since you were a Scout, Sergeant? All those bodies that are lying around attest to my theory that most of the opposition encountered by our patrols came from here. Most of the signs point to the fact that rebels have been using this place for quite a while. I don't think we've discovered the extent of the damage that the fall of this bunker has done to the Governor. I also think that whatever killed everyone is still here. I don't see any tracks leading out, but there could be exits further in. But what has the power to kill an entire bunker worth's of men, Sergeant? None of our Marines could do enough damage to paint the walls with blood unaided.'

Darios raised an eyebrow. 'You think only one creature did this? Why not two, or more?'

'With all respect due to you, Sergeant, you don't really remember lessons on tracking and reading signs, do you.'

'Well, it's been a long time, and I was more of a fighter than a finder. . .'

Vehios chuckled. 'Don't worry about it. That's why you've got me. But there could not be more than one slaughterer. There would be different kinds of wounds on the bodies. So far, the damage looks like it's only been inflicted by large slashes, possibly by claws, or possibly an axe.'

Darios nodded, and turned to Jidairo, who had come over. 'Yes?'

'We have stayed here too long. We need to move.'

Darios gave the necessary orders, and they moved even further into the stone building, bolters up and on edge.

*

He had killed the last of the men in the bunker hours ago. In tribute to his Lord, he had painted the walls with their blood while they had watched, screaming. Not what they had in mind when they had decided to follow the visionary Caquis. They had been pitifully easy to kill. He would have found it a challenge before his heightened abilities, but now it was as easy as breathing. And much more necessary. He had stayed where he had been brought by the men, convinced that more souls would come his way, as provided by his Lord. And come they had. A party of twenty, ten in power armour and ten covered by carapace. He would time it right, and not ruin it like he had with the humans. One of them had got away while he was busy with his comrades. But now, here were some who offered some sport. . .

But they had stopped. Why had they stopped? They should keep coming, step further into his bloody halls. He was waiting for them, and they should not be delaying the inevitable. He fought the impulse to run to them and start it then and there. Timing was important. He needed them all. They could not escape, and so they would not.

*

Jidairo, being the rearguard of the squad, had the most taxing job of all. Constantly turning, checking behind them and trying to keep pace with the others. Yet decades of campaigning had lent him the experience necessary in order to accomplish it without problems. So as he craned his neck over his shoulder, he thought about what was happening on Trasium III. Governor Caquis had declared secession from the Imperium just over a year ago, and most of his planetary defence force went with him. Exactly what prompted Caquis to turn was not known, and to be honest, not exactly cared about. All the Imperium knew was that there was a threat, and so the Lords of Retribution were sent to go and take Trasium III from the rebels. But for over a year, the Lords had been stymied by the Governor. They had next to no knowledge of what military forces he had left, where his strongholds were or, more importantly, where he would strike. This resulted in the Lords massing in one city to try and decide their next move. Meanwhile, the Departmento Munitorium had sent the Catachan XXVI to assist them. More Imperial Guard regiments were probably on their way soon as well.

But now one of our critical leaders has been taken from us, Jidairo thought. And so we are going to rescue him. Not the kind of wars that he was used to fighting. Rolling his head around to the other side to try and loosen up the muscles in his neck, he turned around and walked backwards for a while. Constantly scanning the hallway behind them, keeping his bolter up, he heard a sound, like a stone being kicked along the ground. He seized the Marine who was in front of him, who did likewise until the entire column had stopped moving. Jidairo strained to hear anything else, anything that might point them in the direction of the Captain. After a long minute, he shook his head and they kept moving along. Whatever made that noise, it wasn't making any more. And presumably Vehios hadn't noticed anything on his auspex, else he would have said.

*

Stepping there had been a foolish mistake; that one on the end had almost noticed him. It wouldn't do to lose control yet, he needed them to come further in. And then he could stop denying himself the pleasure that his Lord demanded from him. He did not know which of the Marines was the specific one to kill, so to be sure he would take all their skulls. All for his Lord. After that, he should hunt every last living soul on this planet down. And then he would move onto the next planet. And then . . . No, he caught himself. Do not dream yet. You have a job to do. He watched as the Space Marines kept moving further into the bunker. Their being in single file was a slight problem, but he could remedy that, once they were where they needed to be. Just a little further. . .

*

Helyain was slightly ahead of the centre of the line, and was constantly checking the walls and ceiling. The blood that had covered the the walls and ceiling in the entrance to the complex was not as thick this far in, as if there were not enough to kill. It had started congealing on the soles of his boots, making a slight sucking sound whenever he lifted his feet. He hadn't been full Marine for very long, but had seen his share of death, and dealt it out too. For all that, however, he was uncomfortable in this charnel house. He didn't think even Chapter Master Relth could do this amount of damage by himself. But what if it wasn't just one? He hadn't been the best at identifying battle damage, but it would be a formidable creature that could rip apart an entire bunker's worth of troops by itself. But if there were more than one. . . It was a thought that didn't bear thinking about. Helyain knew the life of a Space Marine always ended in service of the Emperor, and so he wasn't afraid of death, but that didn't mean he wanted to die yet. He thought he would fight in a few more campaigns before being granted the Emperor's Peace.

They had been inside the complex for well over an hour, and there had still been no signs of life, apart from the blood-drenched walls and torn corpses. Helyain began to wonder if the Governor had not simply killed Captain Raseos; no sense in keeping escape risks. But he fervently hoped that Caquis had not, because the Lords desperately needed a victory. And rescuing the Captain would be victory.

Up ahead of him, he could hear Vehios conferring with the Sergeant about something as the column stopped. They had entered a large room, with firing slits in its eastern wall. There was a thick blast door opposite the corridor that they had come through, but it looked old and the keypad beside it was cracked and misshapen. The most noticeable feature of it, though, was the fact that there was nowhere near the amount of blood that there had been in the corridor. There was some, but mostly drag marks leading to a severed torso in the corner. Jidairo told them to get into defensive positions, rather unnecessarily as they had already started moving into them. Vehios and Darios stood by the blast door talking in low voices.

Helyain glanced down the corridor, but wasn't too sure what he was looking for. Then he heard Vehios say, 'I've got movement!' and saw a figure pounding down the hallway towards them. The figure hit their position and everything became a blur.

*

Finally! They had moved into that room, the one where he had not decorated with blood yet. He could taste the coppery tang of his own as he bit his tongue, shivering with anticipation. He heard one of them say 'I've got movement!' and he moved out from the alcove from where he had been hiding. Captain Raseos hefted his bloody axe that he had taken and charged his former brothers-in-arms.

*

'Captain, we've got multiple contacts closing fast on the CP!'

Captain Aleois stood up, drawing his power sword as he did so. "What? Where from?'

The Marine who had shouted pointed, and Aleois swore. 'Gather up every available Marine and prepare to defend this place. We can't afford to lose our hold in this city.' He strode out, and found Isayos waiting for him. 'Yes?'

'They are not just men. I would hazard a guess that they have let Daemons possess some of them, and they certainly have psykers with them. I have already sent out a psychic call for defence. Felian and the 5th will be in in two minutes. The enemy will be here in one.'

Aleois nodded. 'We cannot be overrun. I need you to destroy the psykers and the possessed, and also any Daemons if they have any. That should embolden our troops if they see some displays of might. Where's Mydrin?'

The Epistolary pointed. 'Already marshaling the defences. We must go, now.'

Both Marines headed out of the ruin, and ran towards the sounds of bolter shells exploding and lasguns firing. Aleois drew his bolt pistol and started firing. The rebels, shouting and hollering, kept coming forwards in an unstoppable wave of men. For every two that fell to bolter fire, another three pushed their way forward. And then they were upon the Lords. Aleois moved into them, wielding his power sword with deadly efficiency. Thrusting into the chest of a man wearing a tattered PDF uniform, he ducked and elbowed another malcontent in the face. The traitor's neck snapped under the force of the blow, and he crumpled. Pulling his sword out of a body, he swept it around in a half-circle, shearing another three defectors in half. He kept killing with merciless ease, but there was no respite. Alongside him, he could see the Marines under his command stabbing and punching with brutal strength, and they killed until they had to move backwards because of the press of corpses on their legs. But the enemy kept coming.

'Isayos!' Aleois roared, decapitating a rebel. He could not see the Librarian, but he had caught a glimpse of a bestial face, clad in carapace armour, with muscles that bulged on arms that ended in claws. He knew what it was: a Daemon clad in the flesh of a man. An abomination such as that could not be allowed to live. He fought on through the press of enemies, ducking, parrying and hacking his way towards the Daemon.

Just as he dispatched the last rebel in his way, a roar of thunder sounded and several bolts of lightning flashed down from the sky and touched all the Possessed that the rebels had dared to bring. The effect was startling, with the hybrid disappearing in a flash of purple light. Aleois turned, and saw Isayos standing on a shattered roof of a building, directing the awesome display of mental strength. His eyes were glowing with an unearthly blue light, and he was directing the lightning with his hands. Whipping his arms above him, a tear opened up in the earth, and a dozen rebels were sucked into the yawning abyss. Aleois felt a stab of uncertainty. How could someone control a being with such power? He realised he did not know the level that his Epistolary was. Isayos was displaying an incredible amount of aptitude of his abilities. He jumped off the roof on which he was standing and started killing rebels quickly, much more quickly than Aleois could even move. He killed six men in the first few seconds, followed by another four. All the while, the lightning storm projected from his mind continued. Isayos was giving an impressive demonstration of his psychic might, the strength of which his Captain had not seen him unleash before.

Blocking a clumsy swipe from a knife, Aleois let go of his thoughts and returned to slaughtering the Governor's men.

*

Helyain ducked out of Raseos' way, but the Scout opposite him was not so lucky. He was caught by a sweep of the monstrous axe the Captain was wielding, and slammed up against the roof from the momentum. Raseos followed on with his charge, running headlong into Jidairo and sweeping him off his feet.

'Captain! What are you doing!' Darios shouted, not believing what his eyes told him. Raseos' only response was a bestial snarl as he swung the bloodstained axe at Jidairo who rolled away from the blow. Darios yelled in shock, and drew his chainsword. The rest of the Marines stood there in disbelief. The Sergeant ran at Raseos, who turned, but did not have enough time to slash at him. They collided, and went down together in a tangle of weapons and flailing limbs. With both axe and chainsword trapped beneath them, they rolled around, trying to pin one another. Darios managed to get on top but Raseos sent him flying with a mighty kick. The Captain grabbed his axe and sunk it into the abdomen of the nearest Marine, cleaving through the power armour like it wasn't there. Darios picked himself up, and scrabbled for his chainsword. He couldn't take in what was happening. The Captain of the 5th Company had killed two Marines in less than a minute. What was happening?

Raeos killed another Scout, removing his head from his shoulders with one swipe. The rest of the Lords finally started to act, realising that they were in fact being killed by their Captain. Jidairo scrambled to his feet, and let his bolter roar once. It caught Raseos in the back of his armour, but didn't penetrate. It did capture the attention of the Captain, and he rushed at Jidairo, bellowing, 'BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!'

Darios aimed a slash at Raseos' neck, trying to end the fight then and there, but the crazed Marine ducked and swung his axe at the Sergeant instead. It hit Darios at the wrong angle though, and he was smashed into a wall by the flat of the blade. The other Marines started to draw their weapons, and Helyain charged at Raseos. The Captain turned, and caught him by the neck. He lifted the struggling Marine up, and threw him into Darios. The Captain then ran into the group of remaining Marines and started dealing death-blows to those that did not move.

Emperor, he's good! thought Darios, as he pushed the limp Helyain off him. He hefted his chainsword as he got up, but his first step was unsteady. There were six of his Marines and four of Vehios' Scouts still standing against Raseos, but even as Darios started moving towards them, the Captain cut another down. He moved towards the swirling melee, where Raseos was ducking in and out, holding his own against nine Space Marines. Just as Darios reached the conflict, Raseos lifted his axe and brought it down upon a Marine's helmet, splitting him to his chest with a visceral crack. In doing so, the Captain had brought himself along so he was standing with his back to Darios. The Sergeant seized the opportunity, wrapping his left arm around Raseos' upper chest and bringing his chainsword up alongside the Captain's neck. Raseos stopped struggling when he saw it, and said, 'He cares not from where the blood flows. . .' as the teeth bit into his throat and showered the Marines with blood. The silence was shocking after the noise of the last minute. Darios dropped the body and went over to Helyain. The young Marine was still breathing, but faintly. It must have been a powerful throw, he thought. He looked up and counted the remaining members of the squads. He had Jidairo, Helyain and another three Marines alive, but there were only four Scouts left, including Vehios. Ten Marines in under a minute, the Sergeant thought. What had happened to him?

*

 

Hope you liked that. I am still writing, but it's getting harder as I go along. So comments or criticism are appreciated, and very much encouraged. I need C&C to improve the story of the Lords of Retribution.

[Lady_Canoness]

Very impressive!

 

You carried the action quite well from Predator-esque to some all-out fighting. A neat twist at the end too!

[Papewaio]

Cheers, Lady_Canoness! Wasn't sure if the action scenes would go down well as I haven't had much experience writing in such a style.

 

What do you think of the characters so far? I am trying to make them more distinctive as I get deeper into the story, but I'd like to know people's impressions of them so far.

[Papewaio]

Hey guys, sorry it's been this long but school expects me to work. But here are my latest efforts:

 

Fear of Retribution Part 6 Section 1: Whispers

 

'The first hints of corruption within the Lords of Retribution were confirmed with Captain Raseos' turning from the Emperor's Light, and the subsequent investigation that followed unearthed yet more heretics. But, gripped as we are in the current crisis, one must ask: how many were not found? How many lay dormant amongst the Space Marines?'

-Report upon the Trasium Campaign by Inquisitor Grogan Helfaren

*

The stream of profanities and curses stopped, interrupted by the crack of a bolt pistol. Darios checked his magazine methodically, having used his last shot on the foul traitor that had sat before him, denying the Emperor's truth. Now, though, the Marine was just a corpse, one soon to be burnt to expunge the stain of heresy. Since he and the remainders of his men returned to the Lords' main base to find it under attack by the renegades, he had not stopped wondering what could bring one of the Emperor's finest, one of his battle-brothers, to turn to the worship of Chaos. He had known of Chaos before he came to Trasium III, every Marine was taught of it as a great evil, the pit of darkness that some fell into. They were Space Marines; bred to fight the wars of the Imperium, not to hunger after goals of their own. Yet Captain Raseos had been one of the most selfless men he had known. So what could he have possibly been tempted with, to worship the Dark Gods?

When they had fought off the rebel attack, Darios and the nine surviving Marines had gone to see Captain Aleois. Darios had forbid any of his men to speak of what had occurred until they had reported to the Captain. Aleois had been shocked by the betrayal, and before he heard any more, he had summoned Chaplain Mydrin and Epistolary Isayos. With thirteen Marines in one small room, it had been quite cramped, he recalled with a ghost of his former humour. The Captain had ordered his two advisors to prove beyond doubt that they were loyal to the Emperor. Isyaos seemed to take the proclamation with surprise, but allowed himself to be submitted to questioning by any and all to prove he was not a traitor. Mydrin had asked why he needed to prove his loyalty, because was he not a Chaplain? Aleois insisted, and the Chaplain had conceded. Both had been pure of heart and mind, and then Aleois himself was screened by the psyker and the holy Marine. He, too, was proved loyal. The process continued until every Lord in the room was revealed as pure. Then Darios continued with his tale. Mydrin was showed more emotion than Darios had ever seen him reveal before, seeing a frown upon the Chaplain's face. Isayos, as always, remained silent. Mydrin had expressed his fears that the rot might have gone further than just the Captain, and he suggested that they question the loyalty of every Marine on the planet until they had been proved trustworthy. The Captain appointed Darios, along with the Epistolary and Mydrin, to root out all those not willing to serve the Emperor.

So now he was here, having killed the eighth Marine in the 5th Company who had shown signs of corruption. They had already been through the 4th, and had found thirteen, ten of which were an entire squad. And he had run out of ammunition to kill the heretics. He knew the focus on his weapon was a distraction, a sign that he was not comfortable with what his Captain had asked him to do.

Interrupting his thoughts, Mydrin said, 'Another foul turncoat. How the taint came to be this far in without being noticed, I truly do not know.' The Chaplain was looking at the body that was once Brother Gertur with an expression that would look bored on any other face. However, Darios knew it to be distaste. He had seen the expression appear after he had killed a heretic.

'Where is the next one? We need to finish this task, and quickly, otherwise we risk other traitors deserting before we have cleansed our Chapter.' That was Isayos, the psyker. Due to his unearthly powers, the Librarian had led most of the questioning so far, with Mydrin adding a question or two and Darios acting as executioner. The Sergeant was not sure how he felt about Isayos, a state he thought most of the 4th shared with him. He had fought alongside him, and he was an exemplary ally in battle. The reports he heard of the attack on the base while he was hunting Raseos all ended in the Epistolary slaughtering nearly a third of the attacking force by himself. Darios personally believed that a Marine could not do that without aid, but what he believed was starting to crumble around him.

'I need more ammuntion,' he replied to Isayos' statement. A fact, one he knew to be true, something to hold on to in this madness, this purge of Chaos. He exited the windowless rockrete room they were using to interrogate their own men. Bile rose in his throat at the memory of the methods that were sometimes necessary in order to ascertain the truth. Turning a corner, and walking up the steps brought him to one of their makeshift armories. Spreading their ammunition and weapons around in small hidden caches was a standard procedure in cityfighting that the Lords of Retribution undertook with alarming regularity.

Grabbing a handful of shells from a crate embedded in the floor, Darios eyed the weapons arrayed out in front of him. There wasn't much, a few lasguns and pistols, but to store anything of greater magnitude was to run the risk of it being found or stolen. He straightened from the crouch he had sank into to scoop up his ammunition, and turned to go. He managed one step before collapsing to the ground in pain.

An icy dagger had stabbed into his mind, and he knew not where it came from. He could not cry out, focussed as he was on the pain that was ravaging him. Suddenly, his thoughts were filled with swirling colours, mixing with the pain until they were one. Blue, green and red skittered across his vision. A low gasp escaped him. Inhaling scents he had never smelled before, the only thing he heard was a single note, high and unforgiving. Darios could not move, could not think with the unceasing assault on his mind.

Within the madness, a voice sounded. Cold and cruel, yet strangely compelling, it spoke to him. 'You want this,' it whispered. 'You know it. Those around you, they are too weak to see what good could come of this. You are their tool, only to be wielded and never to achieve what is possible.' Through the colours, Darios managed to catch a glimpse of the bolter shells scattered on the floor in front of him. 'I can take you there. You can be raised above that which you are now, be alone and answer only to yourself. You can taste the power now, but that is only a fraction of what can be yours. I can make your fate come to reality.' The Sergeant heard this, and he wanted the voice to continue. He needed that sound in his head. But a thought in the back of his head fought its way to the front and burst from his lips.

'No.' It came in a gasp, forced out by desperation. He did not know why he was desperate, or even why he denied the voice, but he did. And as the word sounded, the pressure on his thought receded until it was no longer there. He lay on the ground, bathed in sweat and shuddering. After a moment, he pushed himself to his feet with shaking hands and gathered up his ammunition. He stood there, with one hand grasping bolts and the other empty, in that little room, and felt something unfamiliar stir inside of him. It was something he had not felt for decades, since before he was initiated into the Lords. Fear.

He got out of the armoury and started heading back to the interrogation chamber. It was the last thing he wanted to do. What he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and stay like that until he felt different, and he was shocked at this. He was a Space Marine, and he should feel no fear. And yet he was wanting to act like a mouse. He shook his head, and reached the door into where his Chaplain and Epistolary were waiting.

He stopped with one hand set to push it open. What had spoken? What creature could have a voice that beautiful? And how weak were his mental defences, if it could force its way in like that? Darios pondered this for a moment, and then pushed open the door into the chamber.

While he had been gone, the Chaplain had managed to find the last member of the squad they were interrogating. The Marine had not washed his armour for some time, and the grime of battle lay upon it. Dried blood coated his lower legs and right shoulder pauldron. Numerous scrapes and scratches covered his breastplate and arms. Cropped black hair sat above a heavyset face, with hooded eyes and a squashed nose. Darios had seen this particular Marine around before, and knew him to be a merciless fighter, even more so than his brothers. He refused the name that came to him. Normally the Sergeant had no problem killing those whom he had heard scream, those who told him things to try and make him see them as people. But they had turned from the Emperor's Light. So why did he suddenly not want to know this Marine in front of him, who had possibly renounced his oath to the Imperium? He had fought alongside those who had turned traitor, and felt no remorse at those deaths he had later enacted upon the heretics. Was it because he was a Marine? Darios had already ended lives of they who wore the power armour, the symbol of Astartes.

He shook his head to chase the thoughts out as he closed the door, away from prying eyes. Isayos leaned over the table and the screaming started.

*

 

 

As always, let me know what you think!

[Papewaio]

Hey everyone. I'm still writing, don't worry. Starting to get near the end of the first part of Fear of Retribution, so stay with me.

 

Fear of Retribution Part 6 Section 2

 

Brother Jidairo sat on the rockrete base of the northern bunker, amidst his ruined squad, surrounded by his devastated company. A few hours ago, every Marine on Trasium III had been exuberantly confident in their ability to put the rebellion down, despite being outnumbered. The Lords of Retribution were masters of vengeance, having been created specifically to deal with the rising number of secessionists in the Othrand sector. Swiftly and surely, that is how they were meant to operate. Not crawl in bloody streets and amongst corpses. Not to see one of their Captains turn to Chaos. Not to let an upstart Governor obliterate over a quarter of their military might in one fell swoop.

He raised his eyes to the cracked roof above him, and took off his helmet. Captain Aleois had ordered all Marines to be ready for attacks; he thought that the Governor might have guessed how much damage he had done the Lords.

Jidairo rubbed his face with his hand. Darios admitted to him that it was really Jidairo's squad. He was the one who kept them disciplined, he sorted the logistics out, he found the ammunition. But Darios was a leader; over several campaigns he had won most of the 4th over. He improvised, Jidairo thought. He would follow Darios out of respect of his abilities.

Hearing distant las shots, he looked up. With his enhanced vision, Jidairo saw the vague outlines of human forms and flashes of light. He leaped up, seizing his bolter from beside him and shouted, 'The enemy are attacking!'

Without waiting to see if any of his battle-brothers had heard his cry, he racked the slide on his weapon and ran forward to meet the traitors. Before he got further than a few steps, however, a gigantic voice boomed out over the devastated and dying city. Despite priding himself on his resilience, Jidairo fell to one knee, even as his helmet's auto-senses reduced the volume to a bearable level.

'All that follow the corpse god will fall here. The armies of the free planet of Caqiuam will crush those who deny their right to life without shackles. There is no hope, not even for your vaunted Space Marines. Those who resist shall die. But we would rather wish more to flock to our cause. We wish it was not possible to kill you, for you to see your loved ones again. Our Governor is a merciful man, unlike your cruel and decaying Imperium. Cast down your weapons. Forget your allegiance to an uncaring humanity that has started to fail. Join us, and be liberated. Be united in freedom!'

Forcing himself back to his feet, Jidairo glanced around. Before seeing Captain Raseos, he would have been confident that none of the Lords upon Trasium would answer the summons, but he was not so sure now. Now, all the grizzled Marine could do was pray to the Emperor that non would follow the call.

With a sweep of his head, he saw that his prayers were rewarded by bolter fire. Against his battle-brothers. With that sight, Jidairo's hearts sank and he felt the first stirrings of despair. In an effort to combat the unfamiliar feeling, he spun, facing back towards where he came. He ran towards a Marine he had known for decades, seeing the boltgun kick and blast another Marine off his feet. Jidairo fired at him, screaming 'For the Pride of Death!' The shots hit home, but did not penetrate. The foe turned, taking a step back against the force of the shots.He met Jidairo's cry with one of his own as he charged towards him; 'FREEDOM!'

They hit each other with a titanic crash, and Jidairo was knocked off balance from the other Marine's run. They hit the ground, rolling and punching, both trying to get an advantage. Jidairo was pushed down, but he got his legs underneath him and launched a mighty kick, sending his adversary several metres away. Before he could recover, Jidairo seized a rock and threw it at him. It punctured his helmet and he slumped to the ground.

Jidairo got up, seized his bolter off the ground, and looked around at the madness that was around him. The traitorous humans had reached them now, and were caught up in the fierce melee. He saw Marine fighting Marine, with heretics shooting them in the back. The 4th's banner had been torn from its bearer's hands, and was torn into scraps. He saw his Chapter's pride being stolen, violated, despoiled.

He was knocked off his feet for the second time and found himself staring down the barrel of Helyain's bolter, the owner of which was wild-eyed, having lost his helmet. 'Emperor, Helyain, what do you think you're doing?' Jidairo shouted.

'You killed Mikel, you're a traitor!' the young Marine yelled back. 'I saw it!'

'He was the traitor, not me, you hothead! The only chance we have to save the Lords from this is to get to Aleois and tell him! And you want to kill me?'

Helyain squinted at him. 'How do I know you are still loyal?'

'You know me, Helyain. I've taught you how to fight. Now let me up and let's try and stop our Chapter from killing itself!'

Helyain considered a moment, then stood, followed by Jidairo. He took one last look at the self-destruction of his Chapter, and then turned his back on it.

 

 

 

 

Well, how's the story coming across so far? Too simple? I'm also a little worried that the characters are a little too one-dimensional, but I've got a slanted viewpoint. So let me know how you'd like to see me improve upon it.

[ANCIENT FALOR]

I am really enjoying this. motivated me to start my own story with the Wardens Vigilant chapter. I'm not to good at writting but you are doing a great story. It got me going. Really liked the dreadnought in there good job :)

[Papewaio]

Thanks, Ancient Falor. The Dreadnought was all you, I'd never even considered one to be honest! Glad to hear you're writing, the more stories the better.

 

To everyone else, The next few parts are going to more spaced out as I've got numerous NCEA exams coming up and the 'rents are hounding me to do well. Be patient though, and you'll be rewarded.

[ANCIENT FALOR]

Good luck on the exams. I'll be waiting for what happens.

[Papewaio]

Okay, after spending two weeks rushing a graphics project, I've finally found some time to write. Here are my efforts of the last hour or two.

 

Fear of Retribution Part 7 Section 1 - Falling Away

 

'In studying the Arisok Heresy, the most notable moment in which the Lords of Retribution were involved was the flight back to Arisok. How they came to their homeworld so fast, and how quickly the rebellion grew, are questions likely to be unanswered except by the surviving Lords. And they do not wish to tell.'

- Report upon the Arisok Heresy by Inquisitor Grogan Helfaren

*

Sergeant Darios heard the call to arms from the cell where the interrogations took place. He glanced towards Chaplain Mydrin, who nodded for him to go and see what was happening. As always, the Chaplain's face was expressionless, and Darios could get no indication of Mydrin's thoughts. He did not know if the older Marine knew of what had happened to him inside the weapons room, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he would, if he didn't already.

Out the door, up the steps, moving his head from side to side in an effort to determine where the fighting was, Darios moved as fast as he could. Eager as he was to be away from Epistolary Isayos' piercing gaze, he did not relish the prospect of a fight. He had spent the last eight hours slaughtering his battle-brothers, and his soul was weary. The Sergeant just wanted to sleep. But his duty would not allow it.

Exiting the ruined half-building, his enhanced hearing picked up the sounds of war to the east and he ran to the noise. Before he reached the source of the battle-sounds, he saw two Marines coming his way. He opened a frequency on his comm-link, and asked for identification. In response, they both looked up warily, scanning the streets until they spotted him. Again, Darios asked for their names and rank, and they opened fire on him.

The impact of the two shots lifted him off his feet and slammed him onto the hard ground, but did not penetrate his armour. Before he could pick himself up, the first Marine had reached him, knife already stabbing downward. Darios rolled to the side, narrowly evading the blow, and lashed out with his foot. He caught his foe in the side, buying him a precious second to scramble to his feet.

Drawing his bolt pistol, Darios put a round through the Marine's helmet, and turned his head to look for the other. Yet no sooner had he loosed the shot than he was once again cannoned off his feet and his pistol sent flying. They grappled together, rolling on the stony ground, both trying to gain an advantage.

Darios managed to get on top, and swung a punch that would have shattered a normal man's skeleton at the Marine's chest. The power armour that the enemy wore protected him, and in return the Sergeant received a blow that knocked him backwards. Darios used his momentum to roll backwards and came up standing and ready to kill.

The other Marine stood, and drew a blood-spattered chainsword. Darios reached for his own, and both weapons roared to life as their masters charged one another. Sparks flew as the whirring teeth bit and scratched armour, but no lasting damage was caused in the first few seconds of the duel. Then Darios felt something shift; his enemy was losing his fighting consistency in his hate-fueled rage, his swings mistimed and hasty.

A feint to the left, and he took the bait. Dropping low and sweeping his leg out, Darios tripped the Marine, then straightened and beheaded him as his foe fell.

The Sergeant looked at the corpse for a moment, trying to determine what in it would give cause to turn against its brothers. Finding nothing, he turned away, and went to the sounds of battle.

As he got closer, Darios saw the shouts and blood for what it was: a blood-driven madness that caught both man and Marine up into a frenzy of slaughter. He watched as one wearing livery of the Lords tear apart a squad of the rebels with his bare hands, and then be shorn upon another's blade. He saw an entire army lose discipline and run amok, destroying itself within its enemy. He saw this, and felt a derisive fury at the pointlessness of the battle.

'STOP! YOU BEASTS, STOP! YOU'RE KILLING yourselves. . .' It took Darios a moment to realise it was him shouting at the carnage, and his yells became incoherent as he lost what self-control he had, and joined the bloody fray.

*

 

Thoughts on where the story is going in general, or this piece in particular?

[Papewaio]

Hey everyone. I might come back and edit this piece as I'm not sure it quite fits with what is going to come, but you might as well have a look at it anyway.

 

Fear of Retribution Part 7 Section 2

 

Pushing some reports to the side, Captain Aleois took a deep breath. 'Yes, that is true, Chaplain, but since we now have an operational strength of less than a hundred battle-brothers, there is no way that the Lords can contain the rebels without aid.'

Mydrin stood before him, his face impassive as always, yet Aleois could detect a trace of frustration underlining Mydrin's words. 'Captain, these traitors are no match for faith in the Emperor and courage. I believe we can triumph over them, if you would but give a little more thought to the situation in which we find ourselves.' He fell silent as the door creaked open and a serf stepped into the room.

'My Lords, a message has just come from Chapter Master Relth. You are ordered to abandon Trasium III and travel with all haste back to Ariosk.'

Aleois rose out of his chair; he had certainly not expected this. 'Did Master Relth give any reason as to why this sudden flight must be made?'

'There is more to hear, sire, it has been recorded in our databanks. You are the only one on this planet with enough rank to access the file, however.' With that, the serf bowed and exited the small room, leaving Aleois' thoughts whirling.

'I think it prudent that you see that file as soon as possible, Captain,' the Chaplain said. 'Those small pieces of information have set my mind onto patterns of thought I like not, and by your face I can see you have similar ideas occurring to you.'

'Yes, yes,' murmured Aleois distractedly. What was the urgency? He could understand his company being redeployed to fight a larger threat, but not with the level of speed the Chapter Master requested. He left the room with Mydrin close behind him, silent and serene.

As he passed an Apothecary, he ordered the collection of gene-seed from the battleground to the west, with guards from the 7th squad of the 4th. Before the Apothecary replied, he was gone, hurrying to the databanks.

Once he reached them he opened up a search for recent classified messages, together with a link to a private frequency. The large computer brought up seventy three such messages received in the last month. He found the on he was looking for and opened it to hear the voice of his Chapter Master. It was harsher than normal, worn down by awareness held for too long.

'Captains Aleois and Raseos, I am ordering you back to Ariosk. Leave Trasium for the Guard to clear up. I need you two, and your companies, back here as fast as possible.' There was a break in the file as the computer checked his clearance, and, finding it adequate, resumed playing the audio. 'Something fairly large has happened, as I'm sure you will have guessed from my order to return to our homeworld. There has been a full-scale rebellion against us, and the Imperium in general. Our guards have been overwhelmed, and I'm calling back everyone from everywhere. We have to deal with this now, else other planetary governors might see this as a weakness. It needs to be dealt with swiftly and severely, so as soon as you get in-system prepare for a planetary assault. Raseos, I want the 5th to hit Orue, and Aleois, you've got Invarl to take. No prisoners.'

The file ended with a click, and Aleois stood there in shock. Never, in all the history of the Lords, had their homeworld attempted to leave the Imperium. Considering the Lords had been formed to out down such rebellions, it was almost ironic.

Aleois terminated the link with the computer, and turned to Mydrin. 'We leave. Now.'

*

They found him lying on the ground, broken, beaten and scarred, but still alive. His body was discovered between another Marine's and a traitor Guardsman, noticed by the Apothecaries when he moved his arm. Amidst the piles of bodies and pools of congealing blood his squad bore him away from the dead battlefield. His armour was rent in several places, and his chainsword was irreparable, but his eyes were still lit with the fire of life, though now flickering and subdued.

When he was returned to the Lords' forward base, the few Marines there bowed their head in reverence, in respect of what he had lived through. There was no talk as he was carried through the once-proud city, now in its final throes of life. The sky itself started to weep as his limp form was lifted past shattered ruins and destroyed homes. As his procession traveled further into rain, one of the Marines carrying him rose his voice in song.

A haunting lamentation of living past despair, a mournful memory about the passage to the Emperor's Garden was joined by the other Astartes as they bore their Sergeant homeward.

*

[Papewaio]

Sorry for the long time between updates, but I've literally had no time to myself for the past couple of weeks. I have resumed writing though, and we will soon be at an end of Fear of Retribution. Following that, I'll need to start the next part of the story. Most of that's waiting for a plot, and only the ending is set in concrete, so ideas, suggestions or thoughts will be much appreciated.

 

On the modelling side, I've started to buy the kits that I will need to build the force that the Lords will find themselves at. Splitting $8/hour between this, a fledgling World Eaters force, and a target rifle isn't that easy, so hopefully I should finish the models around the time I finish the second part of the story.

 

The next part should be up in the next week or so. Any ways you see the tale could go, drop me a line!