Forsaken

[Kol Saresk]

Umm so it has literally been years since I wrote any Fanfic. Since before the BL forums officially became the Bolthole. Back when its glorius halls were made of black pixels. Back when I went by the alias of Glaurung and exarch593 before that. Brings back a wave of nostalgia. Anyway, here it is.

 

 

 

It was dark. No, dark wasn’t the right word. It was black. It was a complete and total black, utterly devoid of light. He wished it was because the lights were off or there was something covering his face, but the blaring pain he felt where his eyes should have been told him otherwise. His arms were sore from being held above his head in a spread eagled position and he could still feel the bruises from his last beating. There was also a slight twinge of pain from his recently healed ribs. His captors had never told him who they. In fact they had never spoken to him. They just beat him.

 

It wasn’t hard for him to guess why he was here. There had been the War after all. The Astral Claws, the Mantis Warriors, two other Chapters and the Legion had all been condemned as traitors by those who lacked the imagination of the Tyrant of Badab. All they had done, all Chapter Master Lugft Huron had done, was try to protect the Imperium from the growing threat of those who lived in the warp storm known as the Maelstrom. That had been the beginning.

 

By the end of the war, the Astral Claws had stood alone. Their allies had either suffered too many casualties to fight or had turned on the Astral Claws. The last thing the prisoner remembered seeing was Captain Zhrukal Androcles of the Star Phantoms wounding Lord Huron with a melta blast. The same blast was most likely what had blinded his unshielded eyes.

 

He had learned to use his remaining senses with relative ease during his captivity and torture. The air around him was dank and filled the toxic stink of chemicals and unwashed bodies. The coppery tang of his dried blood provided a strange aftertaste in one’s mouth when inhaling.

 

He lifted his head his heard muffled boot steps around him. They were trying to walk softly but it was heard to do that when your boots met a metal grille. He counted three different treads, at least two of which were heavier than other by several kilograms. His captors brought something new with them. It was a small, high-pitched hum that set his teeth on edge. He smiled as the sound of power armor reawakened glorious memories of war in His name. The smile left his face as an armored fist slammed into the side of his jaw.

 

“You have no right to smile prisoner. You are here to answer for spitting upon your oaths to the Imperium. Then you will be killed like the traitorous swine you are.” a deep voice rumbled. It was the first time he had ever heard one of his captors speak before.

 

“Humph. I did not spit on any oaths. I swore to protect the Imperium from all threats both foreign and domestic and that is what I was doing before you swine decided to persecute us. We were simply being your defenders-” He was silenced as another punch thundered into his jaw.

 

“You gave up your right to speak traitor!” the bass voice roared.

 

“Tell me, if I cannot speak then how can I confess my crimes?” The prisoner heard the distinct thud of metal hitting metal.

 

“Brother Gaias that is enough. We are here to question him and if necessary we will use force to get the answers we need. We will not just beat him to death like he and his ilk have done to so many innocents.” Another voice said. It too was remarkably bass. But were the first was like the rumbling of an earthquake, the second carried the tones of a broiling lake magma that was constantly crashing against its rocky walls. The prisoner assumed that the second Astartes had intervened. The name Gaias stuck in his mind but he had no way of using it to identify his captors.

 

“Thank you. If I could see I’m sure that I would be able to address you more appropriately.”

 

“You are no brother of mine. You have slaughtered innocents, caused an unnecessary war and then you spit upon your oaths to the Emperor of Mankind.” The second voice said.

 

“We didn’t start that war! You did! The blood of the innocent is on your shoulders! We were trying to protect the Imperium! We are loyal to the Emperor!” the prisoner roared back.

 

“I like how he doesn’t deny being a traitor.” The first voice said calmly.

 

“Enough! From all of you. Now, do you have any idea where you are and why you are here?” a third voice interjected before the prisoner could reply. It carried the silky overtones of an aristocrat, definitely a mortal.

 

“If I had to guess, you dragged me from the Palace of Thorns and I would hazard that I am on one of the infamous Black Ships of the “Holy” Inquisition that began this bloody war. How close am I?” answered with a smug grin on his face.

 

“Remarkably astute. In that case can I assume that you know what we are after?” the third voice asked. So, it was the Inquisition after all. Not exactly the nicest group of people in the galaxy.

 

“You want to know why we were willing to fight the Imperium. You want to find out what dark, horrible secret led us down the path of heresy.” The prisoner sneered.

 

“Will you cooperate with us?”

 

“No.”

 

“Alright then, I didn’t want to have to resort to such uncivilized methods but you give us no choice. The Inquisition will do whatever we need to do for the protection of the Imperium. Begin Lord Gaias, please proceed.” fists began to rain down on the prisoner’s sides for several minutes. An Astartes ribcage was unique from a normal mortal’s. Increased production of hormones caused the bones connected to the sternum to fuse into a solid mass of bone and cartilage, creating a natural shield for the internal organs. The sides however, while reinforced were still individual ribs and therefore the easiest to break. Each blow was pulled back to keep the ceramite-encased gauntlets from piercing his sides and causing too much damage too soon. He heard a bulkhead open and close as someone left the room.

 

“Why did Lugft Huron withhold the gene-seed tithe from the High Council of Terra and the Mechanicus?” the Inquisitor asked.

 

“My name is Rageth, sergeant of Retaliator Squad Rageth,”

 

He felt his muscles began to bruise as the blood vessels ruptured from his captor’s blows.

 

“Did Lugft Huron begin expanding the numbers of the Astral Claws in preparation of coup d’état of the Imperium?”

 

“My name is Rageth, sergeant of Retaliator Squad Rageth.” He felt a rib snap. He gritted his teeth as the edges ground together.

 

“Did he order the Mantis Warriors to fire upon the Red Harbinger?

 

“My name is Rageth…”

 

***

 

“He won’t talk. We’ve been at this for eighteen hours. We know what happened in the Badab Wars. There is no need to know why. Let’s just kill him and wash our hands of this disgrace.”

 

“Inquisitor, for once I agree with Gaias. He is a Space Marine. Our bodies were made to withstand extreme thresholds. We should put him out of his misery.”

 

“No. We will simply have to find new ways to encourage him to talk.”

 

“Inquisitor, if you are suggesting that we torture this prisoner with unconventional means then as the representative for the Salamanders, I will be forced to withdraw our presence from this conclave.”

 

“Fine, go ahead. We don’t need you here just like we didn’t need your mutants in the frontlines.” There was a loud clang as someone fell to the ground.

 

“Lord Gaias stay down! Lord Kel’Haan, I am sorry to hear that. But he is a traitor to the Imperium and therefore no longer has the rights that its loyal citizens enjoy. We must find out what happened to the Astral Claws. It might be the only way that we can prevent similar situations from occurring in the future. Please, lend us your support in this endeavor.”

 

“Inquisitor, I have no problem preventing future betrayals. But I will not be party to torture and neither will any of my Chapter brethren.”

 

“I understand. You may take your leave.” Muted footsteps echoed in the prisoner’s ears until they were finally too far down the hall. He awarded himself with a small grin throughout the entire confrontation. He quickly dropped his head, pretending to still be passed out as he heard the bulkhead open on rusty hinges before it slammed shut.

 

“Quickly wake him. It won’t be long before he petitions his Chapter master to order the prisoner’s execution. We have maybe three days to get what we are actually looking for.”

 

A bucket of cold, icy water splashed into his face. He shook his head, sputtering for breathe. But he regretted as the edges of several broken ribs ground together in pain.

 

“Well Rageth, we know your name and what unit you served in. Would you perhaps be willing to tell us what we want to know? You would avoid further injury by doing so.” The Inquisitor stated.

 

“Yes, and it would earn me a bullet in my head as well. Instead, I think I will not die a traitor to my brothers.” Rageth replied back.

 

“You’re already a traitor! Why not go ahead and broke one more oath!” the remaining Space Marine roared.

 

“Ha ha ha ha. Well Brother Gaias, you’re certainly more energetic today. Who knows, you might be able to hit like an Astartes today!” his humor was awarded with a fist to his face. He could feel blood run down his face as the skin broke. He wriggled tongue around and spat out a tooth. He heard the acid produced by the Bletcher’s Gland in his mouth hiss and spit as it burned into the metal decking.

 

“That’s better! You’re improving Gaias.” He laughed.

 

“Don’t do it Gaias, this is what he wants. Just do what I tell you and we just might get what we need. Here, you are going to need this.” Rageth heard something exchange hands. He suppressed his curiosity to ask what it was that Gaias would need.

 

“Now Rageth, would you like to tell me where the Astral Claws have sought refuge?”

 

“Even if I did know I would never tell you.” A sharp pain entered his abdomen. His jaw fell slack as he realized he had been cut with a blade.

 

“You bastards!” he shouted.

 

“Don’t worry, we have more in store for you. Now, tell us where the Astral Claws would seek refuge. Would they do so in the Maelstrom? Or would they simply use it for a via point to their final destination?”

 

“My name is Rageth- unnh!” He received another slash, this one perpendicular to the first.

 

“The cuts are shallow so your enhanced physiology will more than cope with it. The blade however is sharp enough to have sliced the nerves in your skin in two. That’s why the painkillers produced by your organ implants aren’t dulling it. So, since you can no longer ignore the pain, would you like to answer or questions?”

 

“I hope you rot in the warp!” Rageth spit more of the Bletcher’s acid in the general direction of the Inquisitor’s voice. He was rewarded with a scream the saliva made contact with a wet splat. Instead of a cut, the blade stabbed into him. Shock started to set in as the blood flow increased. Gaias had struck an organ and as a result, Rageth was now suffering from internal bleeding. He would die here. But he would not die a traitor to those that he called his brothers! He would not betray his Chapter Master, Lugft Huron!

 

“You idiot”, the Inquisitor roared, “Now he is going to die before we can get anything out of him. Give me those!” Rageth felt the cold touch of metal something grabbed one of the corners that formed the cross on his belly and twisted. He could not keep the grimace of pain from crossing his features. The Inquisitor twisted again, eliciting one more jolt of agony.

 

“Now tell me where they have gone! You were one of the senior Retaliator Squad Leaders! You were equal to the Arch-Centurions of the Tyrant’s Legion! There is no reason you shouldn’t know! Just tell me what I want to know and I will end this!”

 

“Never! I will not betray my brothers!” he roared back, spittle flying from his lips. He screamed a piece of his skin was torn back from the cross, left to hang.

 

“Your brothers have forsaken you! We purposely leaked your whereabouts on the hope that they would come looking for you in force but they never came!”

 

“Of course they haven’t! I will never betray them and they know it! The only person who has forsaken me is the Emperor! He lets fools like you run his empire for him, slaughtering millions!”

 

“Sacrifices of the few millions are necessary for the many billions in certain cases. But it did not justify the brutal cullings that you personally enforced on your population! Now tell me what I want to know!”

 

“I hope you and the Emperor burn in the deepest hell of the warp!” Rageth heard his Astartes captor roar in rage. Then he felt the torturer’s blade stab into him three times before he began to cough up blood in wracking fits of pain.

 

“Stop Gaias, let him bleed out on the floor. It’s the closest thing to a deserving death that a traitor like him deserves.” A blaring siren pierced through his haze of agony as the deck shook beneath his feet.

 

“Bridge, situation report!” He dimly heard the Inquisitor yell.

 

“My lord, several ships have translated from the warp and have begun firing on the convoy. The fleet hasn’t sustained any losses yet but the astropaths are warning us of more warp translations incoming.”

 

“Dammit! Gaias, head to your brothers. Find Kel’Haan if he is still aboard. I want you to get ready for boarding actions. If you need me I’ll be coordinating the fight. The Red Corsairs may have taken the bait after all.”

 

The Red Corsairs? Rageth thought to himself. Were they talking about the Astral Claws? Is that what his Chapter called themselves now? While the identity of the attackers had piqued his curiosity, it wouldn’t matter long as his lifeblood seeped through the metal grilles at his feet.

 

***

 

Far from prying eyes, there were only the stars. The space between the stars was empty, a true void. But there was movement amongst this void. The very fabric of reality rippled and twisted, until it ripped itself apart in a kaleidoscope of colors. From this tear in the material realm, came a flood of warships. There was no true conformity between any of these ships. The only commonality was a series of red slashes across their hulls.

 

Several of them were not true warships, merely merchantmen that had been outfitted with weapons and extra armor. These were the outriders. They were also the first to fall to the guns of the Imperial vessels as long range ballistic missiles and lance beams charged into their formations. This however did not deter the enemy’s advance. Barrages of torpedoes began to fly between the two fleets, punctuated by massive explosions that would have destroyed entire cities.

 

The defenders began to launch waves attack fighters and bombers. They swarmed around their mother ships the way bees swarm around their hives before attacking an offender. The raiders simply flew into the middle of the fleet, their weapons blazing away. The bombers claimed devastating casualties despite heavy losses. But the sacrifice of the outriders had allowed the rest of the attacking fleet to emerge into realspace and begin to coordinate a proper assault.

 

In the middle of the Imperial fleet was a massive ship that was as black as the void around it. The only thing that gave away its position was the muzzle flashes of its guns and the flares of its engines as it sought to extricate itself from the fight. It was meant as bait and with its purpose fulfilled. It was no longer needed. The two fleets were enmeshed in a fight to the death and only the survivor would emerge.

 

The Black Ship was almost out of range when three raiders break away from the fight to chase after it. Solid projectile fire sparked off of the larger ship’s hull. It struggled to return fire against its smaller antagonists. One was savagely torn apart as its engine core was pierced by weapons fire, detonating in a small nuclear explosion. The second one suffered hull breaches in several places before its power systems gave out and it was left to drift in space. The last raider gave up on destroying the engines with weapons fire and instead rammed straight into the plasma fires. The resulting explosion would have flattened an entire continent. As it was the raider was engulfed in the fury of a dozen suns while the mass of the Black Ship was sent spinning into the void of space. More of the pirate ships broke away from the conflict to go after it.

 

The most noticeable amongst them was the profile of a strike cruiser. Its original name forsaken by its masters it was now known as the Fury of Badab, the current flagship of Huron Blackheart, Tyrant of the Maelstrom. It came alongside the Black Ship and began to fire several boarding torpedoes. They pierced its dark, foreboding hull with relative ease. Once inside, each one disgorged twenty Space Marines wearing black and red armor, each one a former Astral Claw. Each one had come to claim what belonged to their Chapter. The full fury of the fallen Chapter fell on the heads of those who had taken one of its own with a vengeance that would not be denied.

 

***

 

He was dying. It wouldn’t be long now. The ship rumbled around him. A massive explosion had caused the holds on his cuffs to break but he didn’t have the strength to move.

 

+It doesn’t have to end here. + a voice whispered in his head.

 

“Wh-who are you? What do you want?” he whispered back.

 

+Why my dear Rageth, what I want is simple. I want you to live. Is that so hard to believe? +

 

“Why? Wh-what do want from me daemon?” It had to be a daemon from the warp. No other creature in the galaxy would be able to offer him a chance of survival. But a daemon’s help always had a price.

 

+Well, that’s simple really. I help you escape your prison. In return, I tell you where in the Maelstrom I am trapped and you come release me. So, do we have an accord? +

 

“Yes, I want to live. If you get me out of here I will free you.”

 

+Ha ha ha ha, I love the desperation of mortals. And a deal is a deal, don’t forget that. + A surge of molten heat flooded his body, causing him to arch his spine in pain. Nerves in his spine and brain misfired, leaving him unable to even gasp in pain. Despite this, he was able to feel his flesh knit itself together and his bones. When the tide of agony finally receded, all of the wounds he had suffered were gone, not even a scar to show their passage. He opened his eyes to look at his unblemished skin and then it hit him. His eyes were fully healed! Truly the daemon’s gift had been worth such wonders.

 

“Daemon, what is your name?” he asked.

 

¬+I usually don’t have a need for a single name as like most daemons, I tend to have one for every grain of sand. But if I had to settle on one then I would ask that you call me Arawn. +

 

“Alright then Arawn, when I get out of here I will come and free you.”

 

+Very good, now hurry along. I don’t think I can keep you alive unprotected in a vacuum at my current strength. + Rageth stopped long enough to pick up the blade that had nearly killed him off of the floor, its edge still coated in his blood. He ran down the hall to the closest sounds of a firefight, hoping he could find these Red Corsairs. If they were indeed his brethren then he would be glad to be amongst their ranks, regardless of what they called themselves.

 

“Wait, wait! Free me! Please! I’m not a criminal!” Rageth ceased his running to see a hand poking through the steel bars.

 

“Why should I?” he asked the prisoner. The Black Ships were only used for two purposes. The transportation of unsanctioned psykers to Terra either for training or death as well as carrying the most valued of prisoners like himself. Since he was most likely the only Astartes in the Inquisition’s custody aboard this ship that only left one alternative as to what the prisoner was. She was skinny and covered in rags. Her pale white skin was covered in dirt and grime but bright eyes forced their way out of the darkness covering her face.

 

“Because I can help you! I can guide you through the warp! I can do anything you need me to!” the witch pleaded.

 

“Fine, all I need for you to do is answer one question: Do you worship the Emperor on the Golden Throne?”

 

“Frak no! What has that corpse ever done for me?”

 

“Good answer. Now what do I need to do to get you out? I only have this knife.”

 

“That’s simple, just use it to scratch this rune here by the lock.” She said, pointing to its location, “I can take care of the rest with no problem.” Rageth worked at scraping away the indicated rune until the psyker told him to stop.

 

“Okay, you might want to stand back, there’s going to be some fireworks here.” She pointed one finger at the lock, a look of total concentration crossing her face. Rageth waited for several seconds but nothing happened. As he opened his mouth to talk the entire cell door blew out, crashing into the far wall.

 

“What’s your name?” the Astartes asked the psyker beside him.

 

“My name is Jaree. And I feel like we’re going to be friends for a long time my good sir.” She replied, patting Rageth’s shoulder.

 

“You may not live very long if you keep touching me.” The psyker backed away from the Astartes. The pair continued running down the corridors, Jared directing them towards the nearest group of Red Corsairs. Eventually they came behind a squad of Loyalists in dark grey armor. He saw the badge on their shoulders and spat in disgust as he recognized it. The Red Scorpions were one of the groups responsible for the Badab War and the persecution of the Astral Claws. But if there were only twenty Marines onboard and one of those squads was Salamanders, then Gaias was somewhere in front of him!

 

“Jaree, can you kill everyone but the squad leader?”

 

“Oh yes, no problem whatsoever for someone like me.” The psyker replied. Rageth started to jog slowly to where the Red Scorpions were. As they began to fall one by one in smoking piles of armor, he picked up pace until there was only one left. He lowered his shoulder and slammed into the last Loyalist, sending him sprawling onto the deck.

 

He quickly took advantage and straddled his opponent, bringing down the blade in both hands but Gaias managed to block the blow with his crossed arms.

 

“You filthy dog! You’ll never leave this place alive! Not while I draw breathe! I will see all of you traitors to extinction!” he shouted, his face shaped into a red snarl from rage.

 

“Then we’ll just have to fix the problem with you breathing, won’t we?” Rageth tried to force the blade down towards his captor’s neck, but his lack of power armor was working against him as Gaias forced his arms upward.

 

+Daemon! I need your strength! +

 

+You mortals can be so demanding. Fine, but this is the last I can give you for a while so don’t waste it. If I was omnipotent then I wouldn’t need someone to break me from my prison. + Another wave of molten heat burned into his arms, letting him force the blade down. Gaias’ eyes began to bulge in their sockets as he realized that he was not going to be able to keep from dying. The tip of the knife slowly broke the skin of his neck, blood welling up around it. With a final heave of strength, Rageth forced the blade all the way down into the deck itself. He fell to the one of the walls beside him as the molten strength left him, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

 

“Who are you?” He looked up to see Marines in red and black armor running towards him, grisly trophies of human heads and hands swinging from their belts.

 

“My name is Rageth, sergeant of Retaliator Squad Rageth.” He replied.

 

“Balls of the Gods! You’re actually alive! We had feared the worst, that we were too late. It is truly a miracle that you have survived this long. Lord Huron will be pleased to hear this news.”

 

“Huron? He lives?” he managed to pant.

 

“Very much so, now let’s get you out of here.” Relief surged through him. His brothers hadn’t forsaken him after all. He was finally going to go home. He felt a slight pang of loss as he realized that Badab Primaris was no longer his home. The Palace of Thorns had been razed to the ground. His home was with brethren of the Astr-no the Red Corsairs. It would take a little getting used to but it would be a small price to pay.

 

“Hey! Get your hands off of me! I’ll kill you all just by blinking my left eye!” Rageth turned his head to see two of his brothers hauling Jaree by her arms.

 

“Wait, let her go, she’s with me. She’s a psyker. Helped kill most of these bastards.” Nodding towards the smoking corpses. The two Corsairs let go of him, backing away several steps.

 

“That’s right! You should be scared of me!” Rageth chuckled as Saulus helped him to his feet.

 

“Wait, I want that bastard’s armor. I can think of no better use then using his weapons to kill his own brothers.” Rageth said.

 

“Very well Sergeant. Now let’s get you home.”

 

***

 

Explosions rippled across the hull of the Black ship as the boarding torpedoes detonated melta-charges, freeing themselves from its mass and launching towards the Fury of Badab. Automated systems directed them towards predestinated docking ports. Once the last of the pods were collected, the Fury fired its retro thrusters, moving in reverse. It fired six ballistic ship-killer torpedoes as it used directional thrusters to spin it around before the engines accelerated it towards open space.

The torpedoes crashed into different places along the Black ship, sending it spinning and tumbling as explosions wracked its frame. Its hull rippled and shook before detonating in a massive white sphere as the damage finally proved too much for its generatorium.

The Corsair ships ceased fighting and jumped into the warp as soon as they could. They left in their wake an entire squadron of capital ships drifting in space, completely devastated by the enemy’s furious savagery.

 

***

 

Rageth stood in the great hall in New Badab, once more encased in the signature power armor of the Adeptus Astartes. The colors and heraldry of the Red Scorpions had been removed and in their places were the red and black his brother’s wore as well as the Tyrant’s Claw on his shoulder pads.

All two hundred of his Badabian brethren surrounded him. As he understood things, it had been five months since the war had ended and while they had conquered an entire planet as well as several pirate bases, they only had mortal cohorts to rely on for aid. Renegade Marines from within and without the Maelstrom were flocking to their banner and in time, it would be enough to replenish them to full strength. In the meantime, they would stand proud and strong.

At the end of the hall in a massive, obsidian throne sat the Lord of the Maelstrom, the man who the Imperium knew as the Tyrant of Badab, Lugft Huron the Blackheart. The Red Corsairs fell to one knee before their lord and master.

 

“Rise my brothers, no need to kneel before me. You have all earned the right to stand on your own two feet.” The Tyrant proclaimed. His voice had changed since Rageth had last heard it. Where once there had been the charismatic tones of a true leader, there were now the half-synthesized growls of a machine, truly making him sound the monster he resembled. The entire right half of his body was machinery necessary to let him function in combat. His right arm had been replaced by a massive claw that concealed a heavy flamer, or so Rageth had been told.

 

“My brothers, when Badab fell, we were forced to flee into the Maelstrom. In the process we had left many of our brethren behind to be falsely imprisoned and executed for crimes that we had never committed, for breaking oaths that had never been sworn. And today, the last of our brothers is now amongst us. Rageth, would you please come forward?” Honored to be singled out by the Tyrant, he moved up the processional.

 

“Brother Rageth was once a sergeant, back when we were still the Astral Claws. As such it would only be fitting that he be a Champion with his own squad. For the first time since the Fall of Badab, what is left of our number has been fully reunited. Now we can begin our crusade against those who betrayed us! Now we can bring the very Imperium that spurned to its knees in a hail of fire and blood! Now we, the true Astartes, can reign eternal! Hail New Badab!” the Tyrant roared.

 

“Hail New Badab! Hail the Tyrant!” even at only two hundred strong, their mighty roars shook the palace of New Badab to its very foundation. Somewhere in the warp, something smiled at the coming storm.

 

 

 

 

 

So, let the C&C commence.

[Olis]

Nice story, will there be more?

[Kol Saresk]

Possibly. I am undecided on continuing this piece or pursuing one of several others that are vying for attention.

[Brother Ambroz]

Very good. A few grammatical errors but it was easy to understand your meaning. Hope to see more.