The Orphans of Sobrek

[Demus Ragnok]

This is something I've been working on for a while now. It's an Iron Hands successors of mine that finds themselves in a situation Astartes training may not have prepared them for. At least thats the plan we'll see how this goes.

 

The dream was as it always was. He was running, running in the snow, in the dark. The cold air drove a searing pain into his chest with every breath. His hearts propelled the blood through his body with such fervor that it thundered in his ears. Yet still he ran. He ran through the snow in the driving wind. To where, this place was so familiar but so strange. Was this a distant memory, a ghost from his childhood before he became an astartes? Still he ran through the blinding gale. Smoking breath caked his beard with ice. Was this a battle he had fought in the past, lost amongst the years gone by. If so he saw no enemy, heard no sound of combat, he heard nothing save the driving wind, his own breath, and the roaring blood in his head. But what is that ahead, what is that?

 

“Good to see you’ve decided to rejoin the living brother.” The voice was unmistakable and good to hear.

 

“Yes, but it appears that whilst I slept my sergeant had nothing better to do than sit and stare at the side of my head.”

“Aye, and what a lovely head you have brother captain.” They both laughed at that and the captain tensed slightly at the lingering soreness in his chest and back.

“How long have I been out Saul”, the captain asked rubbing his face trying to regain his senses.

“Seventeen days.”

“And did we gain the primary objective, sergeant?”

“The Iron Father led the final sweep, was really something to see, you know he is…”

“What of the objective sergeant?” the captain cut the sergeant off.

“The heretics were purified.”

“And what of the new codicier, how was his performance?”

“As would be expected from any brother”, the sergeant replied with a raised eyebrow. “Why the concern for the conduct of the brothers from the librarious, captain?”

The captain made to reply as he sat up only to be cut short by the arrival of his apothecary.

 

Hours later Demus, Captain of the Eighth Company, strode toward the bridge of the strike cruiser. He had been released for duty after an hour of evaluation and sample taking by his apothecary. From the recovery ward he had gone to his private quarters, bathed and dressed in grey shipboard fatigues and a mantle of black leather blazoned with the chapter badge over his shoulders. Once dressed he had visited the chapel and lifted up his prayers, asking forgiveness for his failure in being so gravely wounded and for having slept so long in recovering. He thanked the Emperor for allowing him to live to fight and prove his worth as a warrior, and as a commander, and redeem himself of his previous failings. And now as he traveled the halls of strike cruiser Bellicose, Demus ruminated on how long it would be before redemption was afforded him for his wounds. To fall into such an obvious trap and be wounded was unacceptable for an Astartes captain. Weakness was an affront to any son of Ferrus Manus. Anger rose in his chest at this thought. He stopped and took a cleansing breath before taking the last three steps onto the command deck.

 

An hour later the Captain sat at a table in the sanctum adjacent the bridge command deck. The room was a space reserved for senior officers to debate strategy away from the bustle of the bridge. The Captain used it now to pour over the eighteen days of reports and logs from the time of his wounding until the present. He had begun with the complete battle report of their previous action. The conclusion of which Demus had missed wounded. The Iron Father, the chapter’s Master of Sanctity, had led the final assault, just as Sergeant Saul had told him in the recovery ward. The Iron Father was among the oldest members of the chapter and seldom left the fortress in resent decades, until this crusade.

 

“How long has it been?” Demus directed the question to the chaplain sitting across the table from him.

“Since what?” the chaplain replied not looking up from a data slate.

“Since the Iron Father was last a field.”

“I can’t say that I remember the last time he joined a crusade.” the chaplain replied. “But you weren’t interested in history, were you.”

“What makes you think that,” Demus mumbled as he intently inspected the contents of the cup he held to his mouth.

“Ha, Demus we have served together long enough that I can tell when you are asking a veiled question brother.” “And what was so veiled about that question?”

“The look gives you away.”

“And what look is that?” Demus asked with his brow furrowed.

The chaplain raised his hand, “You know full well which look” “And you also know that your expressions or questions about history are not what this is about.” “What has your spirit troubled brother captain?” The chaplain set his data slate aside, leaned forward resting his forearms on the table and interlaced his fingers.

Demus was still very interested in the contents of the cup he held. He took a drink and looked up at the chaplain. “You know me well enough I’d wager that question is one you already know the answer to.”

The chaplain did know. The captain was broaching a topic that they had discussed at great length previously. But for whatever reason his brother’s spirit could not find peace.

 

“You believe the Iron Father would join a crusade just to keep an eye on you is that it Demus.” The chaplain looked at the captain and cocked his head slightly to one side.

“I believe that my command is not favored by my superiors. Or yours for that matter Malachai.”

Demus stood and walked across the room to where a flagon sat on a small table. The chaplain stood and turned to face Demus.

“Demus you know as well as I that if you had not been deemed worthy of command that we would not be having this conversation.”

“And you know as well as I that the Chapter Master had a falling out with my predecessor.” Demus refilled his cup and took a drink. The chaplain moved to join the captain; he took a cup for himself and filled it before walking back to his seat.

“Brother Captain I don’t know what else I can tell you, other than that you are Captain of the Eighth by the Emperor’s will and the trust of his servants in it.” The chaplain was about to take his seat when the door opened.

[Chapter Master Onyxius]

I like it, nice work, nice indeed. Make the X Legion proud!

[Demus Ragnok]

If anyone has anything to say good, bad or otherwise please do. I enjoy writing but don't share much. If there is anything that I can do to improve readability I'm open to suggestions.

[Adrian Collins]

I definitely want to read more!

 

Format wise, I'd like to see the verbals space out a bit better. Kind of like:

 

“How long has it been?” Demus directed the question to the chaplain sitting across the table from him.

“Since what?” the chaplain replied not looking up from a data slate.

“Since the Iron Father was last a field.”

“I can’t say that I remember the last time he joined a crusade.” the chaplain replied. “But you weren’t interested in history, were you.”

“What makes you think that,” Demus mumbled as he intently inspected the contents of the cup he held to his mouth.

 

In my opinion it reads a bit easier like that.

 

Is this going to be novel length or a short story? Because I want to read more of it, but I don't feel it really goes anywhere yet. As in, perhaps each section you put up could finish on a little cliffhanger, kind of like a chapter ending.

 

Being a big fan of Dan Abnett also makes me want to know what Demus looks like, what the apothacarion looks like (eg Ferrus Manus style), what his battle brothers look like. What they sound like; the details, help put me in the room sitting next to Demus as he speaks with the Chaplain of his fears. Is the sergeant a mountain of an Astartes with a voice like a mountainslide and the face of a granite cliff? Is the chaplain a sinister looking bloke or more like an open faced priest (Albeit one that could slay a hundred men merely with the power of his conviction)? Perhaps that that extra detail will help by adding a bit more atmosphere and personality to the setting and characters.

[Demus Ragnok]

Thank you very much Adrian that is exactly the kind of feed back I was looking for. I have the next section rumbling around in my head and on a couple of note pads.

I'll try to get some more up this week.