Denial

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Well, do you? :P It's here if you haven't read it, and this is it's sequel :D

 

Anyways, on to the story!

 

--------------

 

"Do you know what happened to me yourself, first?" Thirst queried as he finished.

 

The Inquisitor kept his tone and posture neutral. "I know enough."

 

"It's an old record, but if you were looking for me you would already know that. The Inquisition does keep collective knowledge on its traitors, does it not?"

 

The marine smirked as he said this. Gurnoth Lan, however, was not as amused.

 

"He was no traitor, if you were really the Dark Apostle you would know this, wouldn't you?"

 

Thirst's smirk turned into a snarl. "Fool. Only the dead and I are privy to that kind of information. Knowledge is power, as the Thousand Sons say, and I am not keen to give that kind of power to anyone."

 

The Inquisitor leaned forward, looking at the Word Bearer who continued leaning against the psychic barrier that imprisoned him. Gurnoth knew he had the Dark Apostle now - if it was truly him, but those doubts were fading with every word from the marine's lips.

 

"What happened, then? Seeing as we Imperials didn't have much in the way of survivors from his people..."

 

"And the survivor that did live did so because I willed it." Thirst closed his eyes, remembering. "But wouldn't you rather hear about how the good Inquisitor fell, long before you became one?"

 

Gurnoth reclined back in his throne again, disapointed. "Rone might have been a radical Inquisitor, but again he was no traitor. You really aren't the Dark Apostle."

 

The Word Bearer chuckled as he heard this. "Oh, but the good Inquisitor and I have spent so much time together, and I know everything about him." He tapped a white gem on his chest plate. "How much do you know of the Eldar and their soul-stones?"

 

The Imperial's eyes widened as he realized what the traitor was implying. "You didn't..."

 

Thirst grinned back at his interrogator's shocked face. "I even managed to keep it as part of my armour when I ascended to daemonhood. Don't worry about him, he's perfectly safe within this little stone. Not many can claim the same type of immortality.'

 

'So let me tell you about the traitor and what he tried to do. Let me tell you exactly what happened..."

 

 

--

 

 

Sooidam stood before the assembled recruits.

 

"You have done well to make it this far. You have proven that you are not as weak as the others.'

 

Here, the Word Bearer began pacing. The ragged youths knew better than to react to any of the astartes' moves.

 

'Yet some of you are doomed to failure still. Before, you have been taught to survive. You know that the Dark Gods favour is the only thing that will guarantee your life lasting longer than a few years.'

 

A pause.

 

'Now you will learn to earn that favour. I am the First Acolyte of the 52nd Host, and I will make you slaughterers, bearing Lorgar's holy Word through blade and bolter fire. You will become the greatest warriors the galaxy has to offer, and the chosen tools of the Dark Gods. The Word Bearers are the weapons of these most holy deities, and our power melded with the support of our patrons make us matchless in the waging of war. Obey, and you will survive to see yourselves wrought into the most potent killers to grace the lackeys of the False Emperor. Resist, and you will be crushed by the more worthy just as your foes would have been. Do you understand?"

 

"Yes, First Acolyte" The initiates replied.

 

"Good. Each of you, take a weapon from the wall there."

 

The recruits nodded and began to head towards the appointed racks of weapons, except two - Thirst and another trainee.

 

Sooidam raised his eyebrows at them. "Did you not hear what I said? You must obey."

 

Thirst bowed his head in acknowledgement. "I did, First Acolyte. You also said that we were to become the weapons. How can we make ourselves into weapon if we are wielding one?"

 

The Word Bearer appeared annoyed at this. "You are under my command, are you not?"

 

"Yes First Acolyte but-"

 

A slap interceded before Thirst could finish his sentence.

 

Sooidam continued coldly. "And when I tell you to kill the man beside you, am I not using you as a weapon against him?"

 

"You are, First Acolyte." The former thief could barely speak after the bare-handed blow.

 

"Good. Now kill him to show me you understand. No weapons, either of you."

 

Thirst whirled and put his fist into his opponent's gut before he could react. A knee to the face and a leg-sweep quickly followed, tumbling his opponent to the ground. The psyker brought his knee into the other man's chest, pinning him. Shocked, pinned and unable to see out of his broken face, the initiate put up little resistance as Thirst choked him. A minute later, it was over.

 

Sooidam narrowed his eyes at the victor as he rised. "How did you learn to fight like that?"

 

The former thief shrugged. "I used to skirt the gangs before I was taken, and when the teachers decided we were weak they made sure we all watched their executions, First Acolyte."

 

"Is this why you decided to question me? So that you would learn how we did it?" The master looked down at the bloodied recruit, dissaproving.

 

"It is, First Acolyte."

 

"I have been doing this for longer than you have been alive, half-mortal. You will learn all our methods if you can prove yourself, which I doubt."

 

Thirst bowed his head. He had learned not to question this one.

 

"As you say, First Acolyte."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EDIT: My opening was... missing a section...

[Brother Anvilus]

just plain...briliant...MOAR!! :D

[Brother Ambroz]

Well its about bloody time you had an update! Haha just kiddin DAT. Thats a cool idea with the soul-stones, like the ultimate torture......might have to steal that from you at some point..... :(

 

Really like how mysterioso Thirst is so far. Would've been cooler if he'd have turned his psychic prowess on the other kid though. :(

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Really like how mysterioso Thirst is so far. Would've been cooler if he'd have turned his psychic prowess on the other kid though. ;)

That's... well... you'll see ;)

 

I'm sorry guys, I start projects... then forget about them :) Here, let me fix that ;)

 

 

--------------

 

Gurnoth Lan interrupted the Word Bearer here.

 

"What does this have to do with the Inquisitor Rone?"

 

Thirst's reply was a growl. "You won't understand what happened unless I explain why. Now, silence."

 

As soon as the words left his lips the Puritan squad once again dropped into a combat stance, their glaives pointed at the traitor marine.

 

Gurnoth waved his hand to order the squad to return to their at the ready position. "I think I am capable of understanding on my own."

 

The Dark Apostle shook his head in response. "No, you won't. The Inquisition has many capable individuals at its command-'

 

That's debatable, the enthroned Inquisitor thought.

 

'-but it is better this way. You will understand when the time comes."

 

"Fine. Continue, then." Gurnoth leaned back as he said this, and Thirst began again.

 

-------

 

The young recruit wasn't sure if he was grateful for the Apothecary or not. That faceless helm kept him alive to fight another day, but then it also kept him alive to deal with the Word Bearers. Thirst was tired of this miserable ship.

 

The First Acolyte continued to train the dwindling recruits in the art of war. It had been too many cycles since the time when they had first begun their training with him, and almost all of them had accepted the Black Carapace. Those who had it were allowed to roam the ship much like the first time they had exitted the Apothecarion. Thirst didn't know how long ago that was or how old he was now. He knew so much more since the Word Bearers had claimed him.

 

Some of it came from his geneseed, they told him. He had picked up six swords one day. Every day before, they had all felt the same, but this day he could feel that each was unbalanced until he came to the last one. Other recruits had started doing the same thing as they all changed into giants.

 

Much more of it came from the extensive studies the astartes had forced upon them. Texts from the many Coryphii and Dark Apostles on faith and war. Books on how to construct and destroy grand fortresses from their allies in the Iron Warriors. Tomes of sorcery from the Thousand Sons. Histories of the growing Hosts of Word Bearers. And always, the Book of Lorgar was there, in strips laid alongside the points made from other Legions, in small volumes handed to each recruit, in every bookshelf and the centre of every hall of worship. It was scrawled in the flesh of countless sacrifices and on the skulls of a thousand different xenos beasts that hung on every wall. To say anything to contradict it was a death sentence, and their teachers paraded those corpses in front of the others to prove the Word's truth.

 

Thirst hated it all.

 

It was all wrong. The universe couldn't exist this way, in this hell. The recruit could feel the pain of those who died here clinging to the walls and watched countless horrors here. This couldn't be the way everything was supposed to be. Not like this.

 

At least the Emperor had promised a better life.

[Brother Ambroz]

Quick update! Interesting, a recruit that began originally hating the Word Bearers but eventually became a Dark Apostle? Should be quite the tale....

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Should be quite the tale....

That's the plan ;)

[Aqui]

Good story DAT. Of all of the Traitor Legions, the Word Bearers were the one I liked least, but I'm starting to change my opinion on a lot of things :lol:

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Good story DAT. Of all of the Traitor Legions, the Word Bearers were the one I liked least, but I'm starting to change my opinion on a lot of things :(

High praise, my friend. The power to change someone's opinions is, well, powerful :lol:

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Rone stood still before the circle of Inquisitors before him.

 

"I know I am young, and have no great deeds to my name. You have assigned me to the Black Ships on the day I left the Interrogator position behind me, and since I have done nothing but serve faithfully."

 

This earned an encouraging nod from his former teacher, Molike, and the Lord Inquisitor Noma, a large man who bore a plain white mask. His three other peers, however, remained motionless.

 

"My psyker assistant has often had prophecies and murmours from the Warp. Some proved fruitless, yes, but the majority have proven their worth one way or another. I can give as many examples of this as you desire, and it is safe to say that he has proven key in at least three major engagements against the forces of Chaos."

 

One of the Inquisitors, Maveir, commented here. "You believe the Emperor guides him."

 

Rone almost smiled despite the speaker's neutral tone, for this is exactly what he wanted to hear. "Yes. I'll cut to the matter then - my assisstant has prophecied about a being, destined to represent true holiness. We found this being, a small boy, and realized he might grow to represent the Emperor to our foes and the people of the Imperium. We were attacked by an entire Astarte fleet that bore Word Bearer colours. They boarded us, took the boy, and let us flee."

 

There were no reactions, of course. None of them dared betray their emotions to the others.

 

Politics may end Thirst's only hope, Rone thought desperately.

 

"I hereby request any aid I may gather to regain possession of the boy. This is a resource that we can not only deny the enemy but use for ourselves. The Emperor has willed it to be so."

 

Again, there was no response as the gathered individuals considered his request.

 

Finally, the Lord Inquisitor spoke, his tone disapproving. "You had a chance to eliminate him and anything else the Word Bearers might have taken by self-destructing the Black Ship. Instead, you chose to believe that the followers of Chaos would do anything other than take your ship and everything in it. I think only the Emperor's blessing spared you, and I am tempted to execute you where you stand.'

 

Then Noma sighed, his mask muffling the sound. It was still abundantly clear he was displeased.

 

'It is not my place to contradict the will of the Emperor, however. That the Word Bearers spared you is evidence enough that the Emperor wills our action in this. But you are not fit to lead this mission to reclaim the being."

 

"I know my pupil better than anyone, my lord. I will gladly serve here." Molike's voice was solemn, patient. A difference from the anger that Rone knew so well.

 

The superior shook his head at this suggestion. "You failed to teach him well, apparently. No, you will serve elsewhere."

 

Then he turned towards Mavier. "I know you will not settle for half measures. Show the true way to the incompetent one, and take task force Alpha and Beta to regain control of the prophesied being.'

 

Noma made the sign of the Aquila over his chest, and the other Inquisitors mirrored the gesture.

 

'So it has been decreed, so it will be. Go and do as you have been commanded."

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

One by one, the last surviving recruits filed into the room. In it was power armor, unmarked or warped in any way, and the First Acolyte.

 

Thirst was surprised at the sight of anything that hadn't been touched by Chaos in some way, especially something that was so close to the Word Bearers themselves. These suits may well have been destined for loyalists based on their complete lack of ornamentation. He idly wondered if they had been stolen or forged, before deciding he didn't care. All that mattered was that they were there, and they were perfect for his needs.

 

He showed none of this to the First Acolyte, however, standing at attention in the presence of his teacher. Sooidam waited patiently for all the recruits to assume their positions as they had done so many times before. Finally, he spoke.

 

"Your training is not yet over. But only the harshest tests remain, that of true combat with the forces who seek to deny the Dark Gods their holy right over the galaxy. You are almost ready to join the 52nd Host.'

 

The teacher turned and gestured to the suits.

 

'Take one of these for yourselves and take the next step to becoming a full astarte."

 

A chorus of acknowledgements answered him, and for the first time in a long time, the psyker heard eagerness from his peers. They were being given a gift, and they were going to take it.

 

Three of the recruits walked over to the power armor immediately. The rest, however, bowed their heads to indicate a question in the face of an order.

 

Sooidam seemed pleased at this, which terrified Thirst. The First Acolyte was never happy when questions had asked.

 

Today seemed different as their mentor turned to one of the recruits. "Stogan. State your question."

 

"My lord, there are many different types of the blessed power armor. Which one is the best?"

 

The Word Bearer smiled as he replied. "Mine is, of course.'

 

The former thief almost fled to the suits when he realized that Sooidam had made a joke. Stogan and the others hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

 

'But that is not what you are asking, is it? Look at these suits. They are all Mark Sixes and were new technology during the Great Crusade. They are much quieter than the other Marks. The ones to the right of them are Mark Sevens, developed after the event the Imperials call the Scouring. They have better technology than the previous Marks, but are slightly bulkier than Mark Sixes. There is no template for Mark Fives - there were many custom suits made during Horus's war, and they were all given the Mark Five designation."

 

And so Sooidam continued on. Though they had learned many techniques for waging war and fighting their many enemies, the developing astartes has learned little of the tools almost all Word Bearers would use, always because they were not deemed ready enough for them.

 

Thirst had longed for the day they would be given their power armor and bolters. And now it had finally come.

 

 

----

 

Sooidam walked into the antechamber that connected the rest of the ship to the Dark Apostle's personal quarters. The room was empty, of course, and so the Word Bearer sat down in the guest seat. Very few were allowed to even request an audience with Rithra, and only the First Acolyte could enter the private meeting room at whim, aside from the Dark Apostle himself.

 

Eventually, Sooidam was joined by his lord, who seated himself opposite of the younger astarte. The leader of the 52nd Host nodded to Sooidam after he had settled. "Speak, my apprentice."

 

The First Acolyte began as ordered. "My lord, the prophesied being has shown no signs of psychic power at all. All we have to even support this gift is the Apothecary claiming that the marks on his throat were due to a null's effect on a psyker, and that his genes show signs of the touch of Chaos."

 

Rithra pondered this for a moment before answering his pupil. "Then he simply has not had reason to use them yet. Give him one. It is doubtful he himself knows of his genes, so do not hesitate to give him whatever pressure he needs."

 

"Dark Apostle, there is little on this ship that has not been affected by the Dark Gods-"

 

"Enough. I know you do not have faith in the sorceror.' The senior Word Bearer shook his head as he said this. 'But Tzeentch has shown him favor. Regardless of the fruits this prophecy bears for us, one of our masters wills our action here. So we will act."

 

Sooidam clenched his teeth for a moment, then relented. "As you say, my lord. I will force his gift or watch him be broken."

[Aqui]

NIce DAT, very nice :tu:

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Grazie, Aquilanus :D

 

----------------------------

 

The recruits assembled outside of the thunderhawk launch bay. Thirst was shocked at how many there were - at least three dozen, possibly more, a far cry from the six that he had claimed his armor with. A few true Word Bearers were there too, four that the former thief could see.

 

The First Acolyte was one of them, and he stood on a pedastal, flanked on either side by six thunderhawk landing ramps. A few of the trainees nervously approached the empty aircraft, but after a few moments they would quickly go back to their peers.

 

And for the first time, there was talking between the other recruits. Many were silent and stood by themselves, but small groups had formed and even the few that Thirst had trained next to seemed to stay close to each other.

 

Stogan spoke first. "Ok, squadmates. We'll be-"

 

"What makes you think we'll be in the same squad?" Ticrashin interjected.

 

It was the first time the psyker had heard his voice. Ticrashin seemed to accept the geneseed better than the others, always being the first to recover from the surgeries performed on them. Sooidam once commented that physically the recruit was the model of a son of Lorgar - high cheekbones, pale marble skin, lithe body and dark hair. The trait that set him truly apart, however, was his eyes. His pupils had become golden since the last implant, and most of their teachers had chosen to treat him with a modicum of respect once they noticed this.

 

Stogan, by comparison, had accepted the geneseed, but he seemed to affect it just as it had affected him. Before the implants he was considered a large recruit, now he stood half a foot over the others. He had chosen Mark Three armour, impressed by its faceless helm and bulk, and that had only aided his stature. What had truly set Stogan apart was his confidence. He seemed to be the only one that wasn't surprised they had made it this far.

 

"They'll keep us together. I doubt they want us killing each other after we've proven ourselves this far." Thirst spoke here. "I know they've spoken of many combat trials and how you will have to fight for dominance and leadership of a squad, but I think that comes after we've all become full Word Bearers."

 

"I agree. We'll have plenty of time to decide which of us is the worthiest after we've all finally been proven worthy." This came from Vathir. He alone was considered likeable by the former thief, and so it seemed the rest as well. Vathir was also the most vocal - asking questions of the teachers that pleased both their masters in their tone and led to answers that greatly aided the group. He has once warned two fighting initiates of a coming Word Bearer, saving their lives. His body had accepted the geneseed well, though not near the level of Ticrashin. He held respect, however, and that made him valuable to all.

 

Ticrashin's golden eyes narrowed. "So they want us to keep peace with each other. I doubt keeping us in the group we've been training with will help that."

 

Vathir's reply was calm, his tone relaxing the conflict. "We've been through hell together. You know what we all had to deal with and what we're all capable of because of it."

 

"What's your point?"

 

"His point,' a new voice entered condescendingly, 'is that you have all fought and bled together. You know each other's skills better than any of the others in this bay, save perhaps the vaunted First Acolyte. You can trust the skills of these brothers, because you have witnessed it. The same cannot be said of any of the other aspirants."

 

The speaker was undoubtedly a full Word Bearer. Stylised features were painted onto a helm that was perfectly smooth, except for the curling horns that swept backwards. No metal trim adorned this suit of armor, instead thin lines of white swirled around the edges, forming bands over the many interlocking plates. A staff, topped by a pure, unblemished crystal, was held in one gauntlet, the other was empty. A few pouches hung from the belt that kept his tabard secured.

 

Thirst recognised him instantly.

 

"Prophesied one,' the sorceror said as he inclined his head towards the boy he had once taken. 'It has been a while."

 

The other recruits started glancing at the former thief nervously. The Word Bearer laughed as he noticed this.

 

"Did the First Acolyte not tell you? I made a prophecy about you, young one. Since the night I received it I have been able to feel you pulsing across the Warp.'

 

The helm moved back and forth after he stated this. The others were starting to back away now.

 

'But that is not why I am here. The Dark Apostle has granted my request that I lead your squad in your first true combat. You will need eight other aspirants. Choose carefully."

 

Thirst looked at those he had trained alongside for so long. They looked at him warily, then looked at each other. Finally, Stogan stepped towards him.

 

"I'll earn the Dark Gods' favour faster if I can out perform someone they think is special. I'll join your squad, Thirst."

 

A few murmurs of agreement followed this proclamation, and the two recruits shook hands. The rest of the group quickly followed Stogan in joining the swelling squad.

 

That left two. The former thief scanned the crowd. He needed people who would support his plan, but that would be difficult to find. Finally, he pointed towards a pair of twins. The sorceror called them over, then signalled the First Acolyte, who nodded his assent, then raised his fist to his chest. Instantly, the assembled recruits recognized the sign and became silent. It had been their first lesson.

 

Sooidam almost smiled as he watched how well he had taught them to obey.

 

Then he began to speak. "My young astartes, today you will use your skills. Today you will begin to understand what it means to be a Word Bearer. Today you will be made or broken.

 

Today, you will go to war."

[Chapter Master Onyxius]

MOAR pls! This is just brilliant! Keep it up, this is the best story of the Word Bearers yet!

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

MOAR pls! This is just brilliant! Keep it up, this is the best story of the Word Bearers yet!

Grazie, Onyxius. Coming from the guy who runs CIWWOF, I am honoured ;)

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

The sorceror turned to the squad Thirst had assembled once Sooidam had finished his speech. The painted marine rapped his staff on the floor to gain the recruits attention.

 

Immediately they turned to him, and so he began. "Thirst, Stogan, you will lead the squad in two different units once you hit the ground. Stogan, choose four to go with you, Thirst, choose three. Your first assignment is a recon mission, searching for the enemy and judging their strength. Phase one of the mission will be complete once you locate and close with the enemy commander and I will give you further instructions then. You are assigned to vox frequency 78.32, however should there be an issue of immediate importance to the Word Bearers, switch to vox frequency 50.00. Is this clear?"

 

The recruits bowed their heads in face of an order, and responded as one. "As you will, Word Bearer."

 

The sorceror chuckled when he heard this. "For you, prophesied one, I am Corai.' Then he gestured towards one of the waiting Thunderhawks. 'Go. Tell the Hand of Flame that you have been deemed ready, it will take you to where the Coryphaus has assigned it."

 

With that, Corai turned and walked away. The squad turned and entered the specified Thunderhawk. Looking around, Thirst could see that the other recruits were still forming their own squads, and each group was clustering around one of the full Word Bearers. Despite the masses of power armor it was easy to tell which had long served the Legion - they all had horns, and glimpses of their highly decorated armor could be seen as well.

 

Then Stogan's voice interrupted the former thief's observations. "We have been deemed ready, Hand of Flame." A note of shock had entered the recruit's voice.

 

A screech seemed to answer him, and the hatch slammed shut. The aspirant sat down with the rest of the squad, and the thrusters kicked in.

 

"You alright Stogan? Seem a little worried there." Vathir punched the Mark Three shoulderpad jokingly, and Stogan shook his head and laughed.

 

"It's nothing. When I went up to the cockpit, there was no pilot. Then a daemonic face appeared on the screens. I just repeated what the Sorceror told us and then the thing yelled and dissapeared. Not what I was expecting." Stogan's easy confidence had returned, and most of the others grinned at his tale.

 

Thirst waited for the moment to subside, then he cleared his throat. "I have a plan."

 

Ticrashin turned at this, surprised. "What is it?"

 

The rest of the squad looked at him expectantly, and it took the former thief a moment to continue.

 

"I have a plan to get away from the Word Bearers.' He definitely had their attention now, judging by their shocked expressions.

 

Taking a deep breath, Thirst continued. "I didn't choose this life. I never wanted any of this, and I don't care what the Word Bearers have given me. We're going to be used up in this war of theirs, so that we can please their gods. I want to get out of this place, and now we have the chance to do that.'

 

There was no change in expression from the others. He took another deep breath.

 

'We have been assigned to locate the enemy commander. I say we take it one step further and see if we can force him to get us away from the Legion and back into the Imperium."

 

Silence reigned for a moment. Then Ticrashin nodded his head. "I'm not going to be used as a tool. I'll make my own path and the Imperium is going to love the information we have."

 

Murmurs of agreement came from most of the others. Stogan, however, shook his head. "Have the Word Bearers not proven the only way is to follow the Dark Gods? I will stay."

 

The squad looked at each other, unsure. Thirst couldn't allow them to be divided on this. "You can stay if you think the Legion will do anything but kill us all if they find out. I'm supposed to be their prophesied one, apparently, and I want to get out. What do you think of that?"

 

The larger recruit shook his head before putting on his helmet. "Fine. I'll help for now, but when we escape I'm not going back to the Imperium."

 

The former thief nodded. "That's your call. But betraying us will lead only to death, by our hands or by the Word Bearers."

 

The squad nodded their assent at this. A snort came from the Mark Three helm, and then silence was complete once more.

[Aqui]

Liking the build up, and the Daemonic pilot especially.

 

It would seem that pilots don't like others in the cockpit - regardless of whether they're Daemonic or not :jaw:

[Brother Ambroz]

Have been busy and unable to read this lately but was a treat when I returned and there were 3-4 new updates. Going great so far, keep it up DAT.

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Liking the build up, and the Daemonic pilot especially.

 

It would seem that pilots don't like others in the cockpit - regardless of whether they're Daemonic or not :D

It's not like I can just go "And then Thirst and the people he trained with giggled and took off" or alternatively "And then the First Acolyte was like "LOLZ, just kidding Thirst, you and I are best friends!""

 

And yeah, pilots aren't very fond of being distracted ;)

 

Have been busy and unable to read this lately but was a treat when I returned and there were 3-4 new updates. Going great so far, keep it up DAT.

It's good to have my story be looked forward to, so it's my pleasure ;)

[Chapter Master Onyxius]

Can't wait to see the great escape when it happens, I wonder if the Word Bearers have forseen this already B) . But then again they are to busy worshipping so it doesn't matter in the end. Hope to see more, this definitly made my day :lol:

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Can't wait to see the great escape when it happens, I wonder if the Word Bearers have forseen this already B) . But then again they are to busy worshipping so it doesn't matter in the end. Hope to see more, this definitly made my day :lol:

Glad to make your day, and you'll see what happens when the time comes ;)

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Eventually, the Hand of Flame touched down, and the hatches opened again. The recruits put on their helmets, save for Stogan, and walked out of the Thunderhawk. When the last boot left the surface of the ramp, the hatches snapped up and the Hand took off.

 

"Someone's not happy" joked Vathir, gesturing towards the vanishing aircraft.

 

Thirst turned towards the squad while they were configuring their helmet displays for the mission. "Alright, brothers-"

 

"Let's stick with compatriots for now. I'll accept revolutionaries if we're feeling successful." Ticrashin sarcasticly interjected.

 

The former thief turned towards him. "Alright, compatriots, the first part of the mission will be exactly as the sorceror said, reconing the area and finding the Imperial commander. We don't know how this is going to turn out, so we'll improvise as we go. Stogan, I'll let you choose which four you'll be commanding."

 

The Mark Three armor didn't move. "I want all of them."

 

Thirst shook his head. "That's not going to work. We're getting out of here whether you like it or not."

 

Stogan finally turned to him. "Actually, I think I'll take command from here. If you want it, come and get it back."

 

In an instant Thirst sent a hail of bolts ricocheted off of the thick Mark Three armor, and he released it quickly before any major damage could be inflicted.

 

A growl followed the bolter shells, however. "I will not live an eternity in this hell."

 

Stogan chuckled. "No, you won't."

 

The larger recruit charged, bringing his chainsword up in a swing. He was too close to completely dodge, but Thirst managed to back up enough that only a scratch appeared on his chestplate. A punch to the face knocked him back further, and he continued back pedaling until he hit something and tumbled to the ground.

 

In a second, a boot rested itself firmly in the middle of his chest, and the Mark Three helm looked down at him as its owner raised his chainsword. "You won't live at all, prophesied one."

 

Then bolter fire hammered into Stogan. This wasn't the light spray from one bolter - the rest of the squad had begun firing at the would-be executioner. In a moment, he fell beside Thirst, unmoving.

 

Ticrashin and Vathir came over, bolters still aimed at the prone form. After a second, Vathir lowered his weapon and helped the former thief up.

 

The golden eyed warrior waited impatiently as Thirst recovered his weapons before speaking to him. "He's still alive. Would you like to kill him yourself, or shall I?"

 

"Neither. He'll have learned that we are not to be threatened, but if he tries anything again he won't get a third chance."

 

Vathir crouched by the wrecked Mark Three armor. "Broth- compatriots, it's not likely he'll get a second one unless we patch him up."

 

Thirst turned towards the squad. He knew that none of his group had apothecary training, but there were the two new recruits.

 

He gestured towards them. "Do you two have any training with the Apothecarion?"

 

They both nodded. Surprised, the former thief pointed towards Stogan. "Then keep him alive. Do whatever you need to do."

 

Vathir stood up to get out of their way, and Ticrashin reluctantly lowered his bolter and backed away. Then they turned towards him.

 

"What's our next move?"

 

Thirst paused for a moment, pleased as he realized he had become the leader of the squad both officially and unofficially. Then he responded. "You're both with me, as are Nolait and Soris. Nolib, you stay behind and guard Stogan and... what are your names?"

 

The closest of the two recruits performing on Stogan turned to him. "I am Aratak, and he is Arrok. We are brothers, so you may call us such, despite what golden eyes says."

 

Nodding his understanding, the squad leader continued. "Thank you. Nolib, guard the brothers well. Aratak, Arrok, if you get attacked your first priority is your own lives. The vox will be open and we'll give you rendezvous points when you need them."

 

A quick vox marked all three recruits' acknowledgement.

 

Finally, Thirst turned towards the area marked 'Imperial' on the helmet's map."Everyone else, fall in. It's time to make an escape."

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Ticrashin creeped forward, edging towards the peak of the ridge inch by inch. Halfway down the mountain was Vathir, watching for Imperial patrols and waiting for his golden-eyed brother's report. There were no noises, no smells, nothing that he could see that suggested there were any PDF nearby, but Ticrashin had learned to be cautious. Finally, he reached the top, looked around, and stood up.

 

There it was, in all it's ferrocrete grey glory. The Imperial headquarters. Thirst was going to be excited.

 

----------

 

"You sure you saw it? I remember you saying that four days ago."

 

The squad leader's expression was one of skepticism, and with good reason. It had been a week since they had been left by the Hand of Flame. Though they had steadily trekked through the forest and now the mountains since then, the only thing they had encountered were increasing patrols and a few beacon towers.

 

Ticrashin nodded. "I know what I saw. There was a motor pool, several rows of barracks, I think a hangar of some sort and a tower in the center of it all, different from the beacon I saw before."

 

Thirst turned towards Vathir. "What do you think?"

 

Vathir shrugged. "I trust him. It's not like you'd want to repeat the same mistake twice, right golden eyes?"

 

It had become the pale warrior's nickname since Atarak had coined it. Even the squadmates who protected the wounded Stogan had begun using it over the vox, before they shut off vox communication due to fear of being heard by the Imperials. Ticrashin had since begun to make similar names for the rest of them, much to his brothers' amusement.

 

There was no response to Vathir's jab, and after a moment Thirst spoke again. "Alright, we're moving out then. Did you happen to see a good place to infiltrate the HQ from?"

 

"Yes, prophesied. I think if we go through the motor pool we can hide our bulk..."

 

------------

 

"Alright, that's the plan. Are we ready?"

 

Nolait, Ticrashin and Soris nodded. Vathir was watching from the edge of the Chimera they were hiding behind, though the night sky was too dark for an Imperials to find them. Despite it being pitch black the young astartes had no problems seeing Vathir's acknowledgement sign.

 

Thirst brought his fist over his heart. "Then may the Emperor protect."

 

The others hesitated for a moment, looking at each other. The former thief sighed.

 

"Do you really think that the Imperium will take us back if we do anything less than show utter zeal towards the Emperor?"

 

With this, the squad nodded and formed the symbol of the Aquila. Vathir simply chuckled quietly from his spot.

 

Nolait was the first to stand from where they were crouching, and he quickly climbed into a nearby Chimera. Before long they heard its engines roar... then sputter and die.

 

The squad remained still out of shock. Ticrashin was the first to react, quickly clambering into another transport. The shouts of PDF officers for their men to wake up pulled the rest of the squad out of their stupour and they hurried away from the failure of a vehicle. In a moment, the Chimera claimed by the golden eyed warrior roared to life as well, and pulled out of the vehicle line. A second later Nolait had moved out of his hunk of metal and ran over to the squad.

 

The returning astarte's expression was downcast. "It seemed it is out of fuel. I should have checked."

 

Thirst shook his head in anger. "Yes, yes you should have. You get to take care of the Hellhound, and make sure it has everything it needs. Phase two starts now."

 

Soris and Nolait nodded in agreement, before running off to do their part. It was only a minute before the load boom of artillery started sounding. In another minute, a Hellhound drove off, it's cannon spitting fire into the heavens, driving off in a random direction.

 

Vathir turned to his squad leader. "Does phase three start yet?" The excitement in the younger astarte's voice was hard to miss, and for the first time in a long time, Thirst smiled.

 

Heavy footsteps came running towards them, interrupting the moment. Both warriors brought their bolters up towards the noise, but lowered them almost as quickly as they realized it was Nolait.

 

He shook his head as he stopped, amusement coloring his voice. "That Hellhound had a, shall we say, unique machine spirit?"

 

The former thief shrugged. "Go help Soris load then. We can't have enough distractions."

 

Nolait pounded his chest with his fist. "As you wish, Thirst." Then he ran off, as ordered.

 

The prophesied being slapped Vathir's back-pack. "Now phase three starts."

 

The pair began running towards the tower in the center. It was there they presumed the Imperial commander to be, and with their sprint it took less than a minute to reach. Despite their size, they had no problems remaining undetected, for the cover of darkness and the chaos caused by the camp waking up to artillery and fire allowed them to run from hiding spot to hiding spot with little effort. The former thief wondered how long it would take the Imperials to realize the artillery was coming from inside their walls.

 

Such thoughts were swept aside as the astartes reached the base of the tower. As one, they kicked the doors down. The pair entered, bolters raised, and the terrified PDF within fled at the sight of the power armored warriors smashing their way in.

 

Vathir quickly grabbed one by the back of his collar. "Where is your commander?" He growled to the captured soldier.

 

The man tensed up and all the blood rushed out of his face, which was covered with an expression of complete shock.

 

Thirst didn't have time for that, so he swiped the mortal from Vathir. "Answer him, and we will spare you."

 

The man broke down and started weeping. "He's at the-e-e to-to-top. Plea-"

 

The former thief threw the soldier out of the doors the astartes had forced their way through. Together, they turned towards the elevator, which seemed to be coming down to them if the lights above the doorway were anything to go by.

 

"That thing doesn't look like it can hold both of us." Vathir commented. "It hasn't even arrived yet but I can already tell. Look at the size of the doors to get in."

 

Thirst sighed. "I agree. Should you go, or shall I?"

 

The younger astarte shook his head. "You're the prophesied one, remember? Go, I'll cover the entrance."

 

"No. Get some place safe. This entire camp will probably come here for orders, and I don't think a single Word Bearer recruit will be able to hold them off. Just vox me when you see them coming through our hole."

 

"I'll be fi-"

 

The squad leader growled angrily. "That's an order. I'd rather not lose any brothers or compatriots tonight."

 

Vathir's expression was unreadable from inside his helmet as he simply stared back at Thirst. Then he relented, and turned away.

 

"As you wish." In a few seconds, the younger astarte was gone.

 

The psyker was alone, and he turned towards the elevator doors. He raised his bolter as a chime sounded, and the doors opened.

 

Waiting in the elevator was the sorceror.

[Chapter Master Onyxius]

As always marvelous! Need to start my own story outside of the CIWWOF too though, if I get the chance

[Brother Ambroz]

Very nice DAT. After that cliffhanger though, you need an update ASAP!!!! :D

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

Onyxius - I approve of this idea whole-heartedly :D

 

Tanith - Any way you want it ;)

 

-----------

 

Corai beckoned to Thirst. "Come, you have done well. Now see the fruits of your labours."

 

Cautiously, the former thief stepped forward, entering the elevator. The sorceror's expression was unreadable behind his painted helm as his crystal staff rapped on the floor. The conspirator could tell they had started to moving, though it was only by seeing the changing floors through the open doors. Clearly the Word Bearer was moving it with his psychic gifts, though again no effort could be seen.

 

The senior astartes turned towards his subordinate. "A distraction was an excellent idea, and quite helpful to our cause. Most squads tested this way attempt to either sneak or force their way directly to their target. A few attempt to assassinate the enemy commander with stolen sniper rifles or use similar tactics. Those are usually executed for not following orders correctly. Remember that as you remembered to close with the enemy commander, and you will be successful.'

 

Thirst had completely forgotten about the wording of his orders, something he immediately regretted.

 

'Distractions are almost always effective. The purpose of killing your foes is so that they cannot oppose your purposes. Distracting your opponents achieves the same effect, but allows them to be corrupted later. Corruption is not what will happen here, however."

 

The pair had reach an empty room, filled with consoles and screens surrounding a circular platform that rose above it all. The sorceror led the way forward and higher. It wasn't until they had reached the center of the haloed floor that the former thief truly appreciated where they were.

 

It was the control room for the entire camp. None of the screens were blank, each was filled with characters and numbers. Windows allowed Thirst to see the artillery blooms that were appearing everywhere. With a shock he realized that there were far too many for a single stolen gun.

 

Corai opened his arms and lifted his head slightly. "Witness the Dark Gods' fire raining down on the Imperium."

 

Quickly he opened up his vox to his squad. "Vathir, Rolait, Soris- all of you, get out of the base now. The Legion is attacking."

 

Immediately questions came filtering back to him, too many at once for him to understand. The former thief growled over it. "Do it."

 

The sorceror turned in place so that his gesture encompassed all around him. "It is truly glorious, is it not?"

 

I noticed just how glorious it is, the conspirator thought venomously. It was impossible he would be leaving with Imperial forces tonight. The squad might not even survive the foolishness of the Word Bearers. So ready to sacrifice their recruits' blood for amusement and self-righteousness. They were all worthless.

 

The painted gauntlets came down and the horned helm turned towards Thirst. "Very few get to see this kind of display. Most of those rejoice at the power of an invasion by true astartes, but you remain silent." The dissapointment was obvious in the sorceror's voice.

 

The younger astarte bowed his head towards the other and replied with a deferential tone. "I am sorry, Corai. Members of my squad are in the camp, and it would be beneficial if they are not killed through friendly fire. Thus, I chose to warn them."

 

Elegant white trims lined the trims of shrugging shoulderpads. "Death is the tool used to weed out the weak among the followers of the Chaos Gods."

 

The former thief kept his head inclined. "As you say, my lord."

 

 

 

-------------------------------------------

 

 

Rone watched the moniters closely, as he had for the past three weeks. Though Chaotic activity outside of the Eye of Terror was naturally frequent as the vast legions of traitors within tried to escape, nothing of the 52nd Host had turned up. He sighed as he saw his rotation was coming to a close. Nicora would be there in a few minutes to take over, and though he trusted her diligence every time he had left those moniters behind it always felt like he was letting Thirst down.

 

A notification popped up on one screen. The inquisitor selected it, tired and hoping this wasn't another standard raid from some Night Lords.

 

His eyes widened as he saw the fleet size, a perfect match for the force that had attacked him. He scrolled down the report. Everything seemed to be textbook for a Word Bearer Host, cults rising up, daemons, mass slaughters and rituals. The distress call was strong too - the worlds being attacked were lightly defended and it was a powerful force that had attacked.

 

The footsteps of a power-armored warrior approached him, stopping just behind Rone. "Reading another report?" The Sister of Battle Novice quiered leaned forward to see the screen.

 

"Nicora...' The Inquisitor began. 'I think we found them."

 

There was no response as his acolyte read silently. After a moment, she stood up straight again.

 

"Then it's time to bring the wrath of the God-Emperor to those who would threaten His Inquisition and bring the prophesied being into the Imperium's fold once more."

 

Rone nodded and stood up as well. "Indeed it is. Tell the captain that the time to deploy the fleet has come. Tomorrow, we go to war."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Aaaaaaaand that's Denial guys, thanks for reading :D