Fall of Nesoi

[Andrew J]

C&C Welcome. I have more written. Wanted to get some feedback before posting more. Still not finished but very close.

 

Fall of Nesoi:

 

The ornately decorated black and gold drop pod was beginning to glow along the bottom from the friction of reentry into the atmosphere of Olath. The agriworld spread out below the drop pod, lush green fields stretched off to the horizon broken occasionally by rivers of sparkling blue. Far off on the northern horizon snow capped peaks glittered in the sun. To the south of the craft a deep blue body of water extended around the curve of the planet. Small dark spots peppered the landscape suggesting signs of civilization. It was towards one of these small dots that the pod hurtled, flames now engulfing the entire craft.

 

Inside the heavily armored craft the mood is quiet yet filled with a silent eagerness at the events about to unfold. Through the dim red lighting of the interior of the drop pod, six traitor marines fidgeted impatiently in their harnesses with their wargear. They were checking bolters, spinning the teeth of their chainswords, rearranging grisly trophies taken from past battles, anything to pass the time until the fun could begin.

 

Yet one among them was still. The chaos sorcerer seemed to be focusing intently at a point on the wall above the warrior opposite him, the intricately carved mask of his helmet moving with the shaking of the drop pod. His armor was not like the others, where theirs was black with gold trim, his was a deep red with odd patterns and runes of gold inlaid among his armor plates. They seemed to be shifting every so slightly if one were to stare them. He held a large staff in his right hand, planted firmly to the floor.

 

Beside him sat a large brute clad in ancient black terminator armor, who was slowly stroking the edge of his large daemon sword across his lap that glowed softly with malice and cruelty. It was pulsing in concert with his strokes. With the best wargear and favored weapon of chaos he was obviously the leader of this warband.

 

“How much longer Alon? I am getting impatient. I can feel the souls of these pathetic corpse worshippers begging me to free them of their stupid ideals,” the sorcerer says as he breaks the silence. He shifts anxiously in his power armored plate in the anticipation of what is to come.

 

“One minute till impact Turien. Your impatience is beginning to annoy me,” the giant terminator grumbles after checking the ancient reader on the wall of the drop pod. His hatred for Turien grows with each offhand remark. If only he were not so useful Alon would have gotten rid of him centuries ago.

 

“Finally. It has been too long since I last tasted the ripe mind of a young Imperial fool.”

 

The retros kicked in like roaring thunder as the craft approached the final moments of descent. Turien tensed reflexively in anticipation of impact, gripping his staff tighter, his breath a mere afterthought. Time seemed to slow as he waited for the inevitable crash to come before finally arriving with a resounding crash that reverberated through the structure of the drop pod. Concussive pops filled the small chamber as explosive bolts were activated. Freed from their restraints the exit ramps crashed down into the soft earth of Olath.

 

Turien gets up and slowly walks to the open ramp taking his helmet off as he moves. His retinue starts collecting their weapons and machinations of death in preparation to exit. He stops at the open ramp and breathes in deeply with eyes closed, head pointed towards the ground, arms outstretched on the supports of the ramp.

 

The smells of this world excite him. The sounds excite him. The potential excites him even more. His hands grip the support struts even tighter, their eagerness to get to work tough to dampen.

 

He reaches out with his warp fueled mind as his consciousness leaves his body to float through the air, taking a vantage point high above the growing mass of drop pods. Where are you my little fools?, he ponders to himself, his consciousness scanning around for a hint of human civilization. It roams over the verdant green fields in front of him, searching like a hunting dog for the slightest scent in the air. Ah, there you are…

 

His consciousness rushes to zoom in on the small town that sits in the middle of the farmland like a beacon on a map.

 

“That way Alon. Over there lies the first of many….” as Turien points in the direction of the town over the horizon.

 

*

 

Librarian Nesoi was leading his company through the first of many training exercises, when a call comes through his vox for him. Pale green and bronze battle brothers were moving quickly in the background, leaping over obstacles, shooting targets. The noise of the chamber is deafening but Nesoi’s helm filters through the chaos in the background. “Librarian Nesoi, you are required in Chapter Master Eos’ chambers immediately.”

 

“Acknowledged.” Nesoi gets up from behind the cover of the heavy brick wall as he moves towards Captain Comus his most trusted adviser and company commander. Comus is busy at the rear of the chamber watching the company move through the drills and correcting mistakes.

 

“Captain Comus, you may finish up the training session. I am required in a meeting with Eos.”

 

Nesoi exits the large training chamber through the heavily buttressed door onto a well lit hallway. The hallway is also a riot of noise and movement. Chapter serfs crowd the hallway, moving quickly to their designated tasks. As he steps into the crowd, serfs part in front of him like water at a break. He walks down it towards the main shaft that leads deep down in the hard granite of his Chapter Fortress-Monastery. Propylaea, also known as the ‘Gateway to the Stars’, is the large hollowed out asteroid that protects Achaea, the pride of his Chapter, the Aurochs. He is near the surface of the fortress where all the training chambers are located. It will take him some time to reach Chapter Master Eos in the bowels of Propylaea.

 

After descending to the depths of the interior of the fortress, he makes his way through the frescoed halls of the main audience chamber. The chapter serfs are few and far between here. Some are working tirelessly polishing various surfaces. Others are in route to deliver impending orders. The chapter rules Achaea from its vantage point in the sky and is constantly busy with the demands of governing.

 

Looking left he sees a large ornate fresco of an old battle from the chapter’s beginning, an Auroch marine leaping over a pile of dead Orks, axe held two handed behind his head about to bring a crushing down stroke on the large Ork warboss bellowing back at him at the bottom of the pile. The fresco is framed in gold that is sunk into the glossy polished marble wall. On his right is a similar battle scene from the chapter’s past.

 

Towering marble support pillars line the length of the hall. A border of onyx lines the floor in a large square the runs the length of the hall. The chapter icon of a stylized bulls head is embedded in the corner of every tile that lines the floor every all the way to the end of the hall. Soft yellow lighting glows from far over head. He continued on past more frescos and busts of famous warriors. Seeing such glorious art has always made him proud of his lineage and chapter.

 

He waited outside the chamber upon arriving at the main chambers of Master Eos. The master’s equerry moved hurriedly to announce his arrival to Master Eos who was busy surveying reports of the chapter’s most recent accomplishments. The equerry moved in close to the Chapter Master and not wanting to disturb his master stood silent just beyond the master’s personal area.

 

“Let him in Erasmos. Even after all these years you still sound like a raging Ibek when you try to sneak up on me,” Eos says while not looking up from his dataslate.

 

“Yes Master.” Erasmos motions for Nesoi to enter. As he enters the room Eos sets down the dataslate shifting his ancient bulk to greet the younger warrior. Eos’ gray hair gives away his age, the years of governing a world and a chapter wearing years into his patrician features. Nesoi notices the brilliant sheen of his golden clasps on his shoulders as they glitter in the warm light of the chamber and the deep red mantle of his office flows through the air as he turns. His robes are simple and light in contrast to Nesoi’s battle worn pale green and bronze war plate.

 

“Nesoi my boy how is the training going?” Eos asks as he clasps Nesoi’s forearm and brings him into a big embrace.

 

“Well Master Eos. The company is ready for the next deployment. Captain Comus and I have trained the company ceaselessly since our return two months ago. I will not fail the chapter again.”

 

“No you will not. I have faith in you Nesoi. The Eldar are a cunning and deceptive enemy. You are headstrong and full of fire and passion, things we cherish most as warriors of the Emperor. We should never underestimate their abilities. But a lesson has been learned from here on out. That is always the way we must look at things. Learn from our mistakes so as never to repeat them. Heed that as a lesson son.”

 

“I have learned my lesson well Master. Never again will I chase after such fleet footed enemies as the Eldar after I think myself a victory is near. We lost too many good battle brothers to win the upper hand that day Master. I have vowed to be more cautious and restrain my aggression to the most appropriate time. There may be some things I could learn from the cunning Eldar.”

 

“Watch your words young one. There is a reason their race has fallen from grace in this universe while ours is ascending. We have power and courage to spare while they are weak and devious. Those are not traits we should emulate. You will uphold the honor of this chapter and crush resistance when you see it. That is the way of the Aurochs. Anything less will be punished. You need be more aware and smarter in the future is all.

 

Now. You are probably hoping I called you down here for a new deployment and you are correct. You and the third company are deploying to a small agriworld on the edge of the existence, known as Olath. Reports of an incursion were sent out weeks ago and since then all communication has been lost. Were it not for the vast amount of food produced for the various hive worlds in the surrounding regions this would not call our attention. I have uploaded your deployment files to your dataslate to review on your way. You know your duty. You are dismissed. For the Emperor!”

 

*

 

Turien looked on in delight as his new traitor guard dragged the screaming citizens into the old Imperial chapel. The walls were covered in the gore of the screamers predecessors. Lifeless bodies hung from the rafters and slumped against the walls. The citizens looked on in horror at the fate that awaited them, most screaming madly at the images running through their heads. Turien was busy broadcasting the memories of their deaths to the new sacrifices. Their shock and horror only made him grin more, while giving him even more power over their thoughts.

 

“Don’t scream my beloved pets! You are going to help bring about the change that is needed! This world is sick with the sad belief in that corpse of a God you say you believe in! I will show you the true Gods of this universe!” the citizens were being brought into the chapel and put into a circle around the stone plinth at the center of the floor. Many started sobbing, some passed out. The old Imperial Guard troopers, who had sworn their allegiance to Turien, kicked the passed out citizens awake. Before them was a headless ruined statue of the Emperor. And it was glowing.

 

EDIT: changed some things after some suggestions

[Andrew J]

Part II

 

*

 

Aboard the Strike Cruiser Hammer of Achaea, Nesoi and his company continued their training during the weeks long journey to Olath. Squads rotated into the firing chamber to continue to hone their skills with the bolter. Other squads spent time in the sparring chamber working on basic combat maneuvers. Others still perfected their skills with chainsword and power weapons. Nesoi and Comus left them to their sergeants to train.

 

He was aboard the bridge of the ship with Comus and the ship’s captain Isidoros reviewing the data that was streaming around he hololith of Olath.

“Initial reports are coming through now Lord. It looks as though the planet has been overrun. The population of Olath was never very high to begin with but there are no life signs among the smaller towns and cities. It looks as though anyone who has survived is in the capital city of Colwich. The life signals are heavily concentrated in and around the city Lord,” Isidoros reported.

 

“It is there that we must meet our enemy. We will brief the scouts. Keep scanning. Update us with any new information Captain Isidoros,” Comus nodded in agreement and the two left the bridge.

 

Nesoi was pleased how efficiently everything was coming along. The Aurochs were known to be strict disciplinarians. Bred into them from the moment they became aspirants, brothers were expected to follow commands to the letter. Battles had been won by the slimmest of margins because battle brothers had followed their leader’s commands unflinchingly, even in the face of impossible odds. Nesoi knew his brothers would do the same for him or Comus. The Aurochs valued the same ideals in their serfs and mortal crews.

 

Coming out of his reverie he noticed that there was a small variance in the warp that was troublesome to his subconscious. Initially he thought it was the usual warp variation that occurred from being in space, as opposed to the more synchronized warp flow that a planet produces. As he focused on it more he noticed a slight pattern emerging from the unorganized energy flow that normally made up the warp. A dreadful feeling started to creep into his mind as he walked along with Comus.

 

“Comus we must be careful here. I detect an odd variation in the warp.”

 

“I was wondering what was troubling you friend. We must be sure to warn our scouts of such danger.”

 

“True, brother. Sergeant Chariton is a great warrior but there are things even he cannot fight.”

 

As they approached the training facilities where the company was preparing for their deployment, Nesoi voxed Scout Sergeant Chariton. “Sergeant Chariton, meet me at the deployment bay. Tell your squad to be ready to embark soon. I have a mission for you.”

 

*

 

Chariton and his squad moved silently through the warehouse under the cover of night. Years of training made sure every movement was soundless, every step calculated to ensure total concealment. They were moving slowly through the outskirts of Colwich, small one level buildings mostly. It had been several hours since they were dropped off by Thunderhawk in the fields surrounding the city.

 

So far they had only run into a few guardsmen on patrol. After noticing their lack of Imperial adornment, Chariton ordered his squad to dispatch them. He was proud of how fluidly they moved in to surprise them from behind, slicing their throats swiftly and dragging them to a dark corner. That was over an hour ago and they continued towards the center of the city.

 

Chariton halted at the open freight door of the warehouse and consulted his dataplate. They were close to a large block of habs. The area looked abandoned, doors left open swinging in the light breeze of the night. Pools of light shone down on empty streets. No life signs were detected by his auspex. That was unusual. The initial scans had shown a large number of life signs in this area only a few hours ago.

 

He gave the signal to move again and silently crossed the open boulevard. The street was deserted. Lights were on as far as he could see. The squad followed quickly one by one.

 

Entering the block he started noticing something different, where before everything was deserted days ago this block looked to be recently abandoned. He could see small scratches and lasburns in the rockcrete walls that made up the majority of the area. It looked like a small battle had actually come through here. There were even dried pools of blood on the street. But there were no signs of life. Not even dead bodies. It looked as though the population had been moved quickly. Things were starting to get interesting.

 

In anticipation of battle, Chariton felt his blood start to quicken. He moved a little faster with a little more urgency. The squad followed suit.

 

They moved more quickly through the hab block, the burns and scratches disappearing as they went. Getting to the other side of the large block they came to a main thoroughfare. It was well lit and provided little cover if were things to get ugly fast.

 

Chariton did not notice any movement on the other side of the road, scanning quickly up to the left and right also revealed nothing. He motioned his squad to move across quickly. Across the street was a large administratum building. Once they reached cover in the dark corner of an overhang he consulted his dataslate. It was one of many according to his images. They seemed to be at the outskirts of a large administratum sector.

 

At that moment one of his scouts noticed movement in the building next to them. They all quickly dispersed, blending into shadows and corners. A couple of guardsmen walked around the corner at the end of the alley up ahead underneath a spotlight on the corner. They were no more than a hundred meters away.

 

They looked bored of their duties.

 

With hand motions, Chariton ordered a couple of scouts into each building to surround the guards. They were going to take one of these fools alive.

Chariton watched from the other end of the alley. It was over in a flash. Razor edged adamantium glinted in the spotlight of the alley. One of the guards disappeared into a doorway. The other collapsed in a spurt of blood. Chariton moved quickly to meet them in the relative safety of the building.

Scout Dareios dragged the scared little man to Chariton, hand over his mouth to keep him quiet.

 

In a hushed whisper only the few of them could hear Chariton said “Dareios put your blade to his throat so he knows to speak the truth.” Dareios complied quickly.

 

“What has happened here and why are you not wearing any markings of the Imperium, soldier?” Chariton inquired.

 

The captive squirmed in Dareios grasp but that only made the blade bite fractionally deeper into his neck. Dareios removed his hand from the man’s mouth to let him answer.

 

“I will never answer your questions, you Emperor’s fool. I have seen the light of Chaos ascendant and nothing you say will sway me from their grasp!” it started off low and built to a defiant tone by the end.

 

Dareios slit his throat, cutting to the bone. The captive gurgled blood as he fell to the ground in a heap.

 

“Come, we must find the source of this heresy and report this treachery to the company,” Chariton murmured as he turned to exit the building. They had some more scouting to do.

 

The scouts moved swiftly through the sector coming to a large wall that surrounded the main administratum complex. It was over twice the height of an Astartes and just as thick. Between the wall and the building they were currently sheltered in was a large road that ran the length of the wall. Chariton looked down the road and saw traitor guard dragging citizens in groups to the main gate of the wall. At the gate two traitor marines were inspecting the crowds of people that entered.

 

Chariton recorded their progress and moved to leave. The squad followed him out as they returned to their extraction point.

 

*

 

Turien is focusing his power on the swirling colors of the warp in his mind. He is trying to read the patterns. Feeling for the opening that he knows is surely there. It has become much easier over the last few weeks. All the souls that he has sent to his Chaos Gods giving him favor for the moment. He knows this is fleeting. They do not care for a small murderer such as himself for long. Once the killing stops their support will quickly turn to something that suits their whim of the moment.

 

He has worked hard over the last months to cultivate such meager support but it is gaining. The mass executions of Colwich are much stronger in the warp than the minor villages that he started with. Currents are rippling across the warp now in a specific pattern drawing the slightest hint of attention from the formless beings he worships. His plan is slowly coming to a conclusion, one that will make him immortal and rid him from the banter of that fool Alon.

 

Suddenly he sees a ripple in the pattern, one that is not supposed to be there, one that was not part of the plan. His expanded mind feels the sickly sweet sensation of another soul entering the warp. It is followed quickly by a few others.

 

Rage envelops him as he thinks about what just occurred. He will be put back a week at least! More souls in such a dwindling population will have to sacrificed for the greater glory! He cannot stand such an action!

 

“Alon! Did you just kill some measly idiots?! The time will come when you can slaughter as much as you want! You were told not to throw off the balance! It will take me at least a week to restore such idiocy!” Turien screamed at the wall of the chamber he was facing. Turien was staring off into the distance as though the wall was not there. Alon was milling about behind him at the entrance of the chamber, herding in the next lot of unfortunate victims with his large daemon sword. He was massive in his ancient terminator plate, the citizens of Olath cowering in fear as they hurried past him.

 

“No you fool! I know not to mess with the strange ways of the warp! How dare you accuse me of such stupidity! I will send you to the Chaos Gods if you dare make that assumption again!” Alon shouted back emphasizing the word you.

 

“Well if it was not you Alon check with the bumbling lot of idiots that you command! I demand to know who did this!” Alon was visibly furious at the audacity of Turien to speak to him in such a manner. He was about to erupt into a killing spree when reason overcame his natural instincts. He knew he must contain his rage till after the plan was complete. Only then he could unleash his wrath on Turien and the universe.

 

“Can’t you figure it out yourself Turien? You are the one with the powers. Reach into the warp and find out who did it,” Alon said much more lethally as he moved closer to Turien, his barely contained rage easily visible to everyone in the room.

 

Turien was oblivious to Alon’s mood as he was entirely focused on the task at hand. “Alon you fool. If I could do that I would have already. Now go check! Time is wasting!”

 

Alon begrudgingly voxed all his subordinates to see who had unknowingly killed a citizen. Moments later all reported back negative. No one had gone out of step yet. I am about to, groused Alon to himself.

 

“Turien everyone is following your commands. Now see to it that you don’t speak to me like that again or I’ll see your head on my trophy rack soon,” Alon threatened as he walked back towards the entrance.

 

Awareness dawned on Turien as the news reached through his concentration to him. If his men didn’t kill the fools…

 

Then they must have visitors.