"Homeworld"

[-Volsung-]

Wrote this piece while I was taking a study break from my LSATs. Let me know what you think :huh:

 

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"Homeworld"

 

By: - V -

 

Seven months.

 

It's been seven months into the Deathwatch, four months waiting for an assignment at the observation post, and then three months cooped up in a makeshift barrack erected in the cargo bay of an old Imperial frigate.

 

Now, they were finally planetside, with the prospect of glorious battle ahead and an indefinite number of xenos to kill.

 

So all in all, Hargund Steelfang was happy, he thought, as he sat around the campfire along with Su'Botai and Octavio Quintus, noisily chewing the remainder of his chicken thigh. Residual meat clung to the bones, and being too lazy to pick at it, he flung it into the fire where it smacked into a burning log, sending up a puff of dust ash lit by floating embers.

 

The campfire was Su'Botai's idea, and a damn good one too. There was some reluctance from the other three Deathwatch brothers, but the Sergeant finally approved the request, calculating that the promethium wasted on normal lanterns and the energy for glowglobes could be saved for a better occasion. To him, he figured, the risk of breaking stealth now was not too bad. They weren't close enough to any real threat. The northern Tyrannid infestation lines were spreading quickly southward, but the hotspots were still far, and they were weaving their way around it, north by northwest.

 

Sergeant Gaius Marius. Ultramarines. What an arse of a whoreson, Hargund scoffed to himself. Hargund was Grey Hunter, old enough to know war but still young enough to be impatient and impetuous. He had seen enough action and had been under enough squad commanders to know and have a healthy amount of respect for good leaders. He didn't doubt Marius's skill. Hell, he respected him, so it was nothing personal. He just wasn't used to NOT talking back.

 

Hargund never felt at home in the Deathwatch. It hasn't even been a year yet, and he knew already that the happiest day of his warrior's career would likely be the day he is told to return to Fenris. He wondered if he was forgotten, if his pack brothers had moved on, while he sat here thinking of those days when he would used to drink and fight alongside them. Those were good days.

 

But he took an oath, and personal honor dictated he should see his task finished. All in all, he had to admit, he wasn't miserable. He liked most of his killteam. Only most.

 

Killteam Vulture consisted of five marines, three tactical boltgunners led by a commanding officer, Sergeant Marius, and supported by a heavy-bolter man. Only two of the marines came from the same chapter.

 

Su'Botai was White Scar. The first time Hargund met him, he took notice of the pelt of fur the white-clad marine had draped across his backpack unit. It came from some sort of goat or ram, not a wolf's skin, but it immediately reminded the Space Wolf of home, so Hargund approached the White Scar about it, and from there, they got along quite well. Hargund found the White Scar to be quite amiable; a lover of song and wine, the latter of which Hargund approved of more than the first. Much of the time Hargund had spent on standby with the Deathwatch he passed drinking with

Su'Botai. Hargund had made the mistake of assuming that all warriors drink, and so he failed to pack a supply of Fenrisian ale for his journey, and hence had difficulty finding beer. But as if the Allfather, the mighty Emperor, had heard his prayers, Su'Botai had brought and offered up his supply of twelve gourd's worth of fortified wine made from fermented horse milk, a drink of which the taste Hargund hated but, lacking any other alternative libation, welcomed nonetheless.

 

Both Hargund and Su'Bodai were assigned as tactical marines. They were joined by a third boltgunner, Brother-Initiate Ryke of the Black Templars. Both Wolf and Scar kept their distance from this marine, as Ryke was a fanatic and a zealot. Hargund saw it immediately when he first laid eyes on the crusader. The Black Templar was a walking purity seal. His armor was covered with red stamps and flowing parchments choked full of Imperial litanies. Hargund himself had one affixed to his left greave, a nice little piece of litany chosen because he thought it sounded uplifting. Ryke had three dozen. They festooned his armor from neck to toes.

 

One time, aboard their frigate as they were assembling their gear, Hargund had looked at the Black Templar affixing yet another seal to his armor, and he turned to Su'Botai and joked that Ryke should stamp a purity seal right in the middle of his forehead. Or better yet, two over both of his eye lenses. They laughed until Sergeant Marius walked up to them and said grimly and without a trace of humor.

"And then how, do you suppose, does he fire his weapon?"

That killed the joke and the mood, and at that moment, Hargund labeled Marius an arse. He would have been quick to judge the rest of the Sergeant's chapter too if it had not been for the heavy-bolterman Quintus. Both Marius and Quintus were Ultramarines.

"Don't mind him, he's 1st company." Quintus had told him, taping at the rim of his own shoulders, which were painted gold for the 2nd Ultramarine Company. "Those first co. brothers, they've seen too much horror to laugh, my friend."

"I've seen too much horror not to," Hargund had responded.

 

This night, on terra firma, the team had found a nice rocky outcropping to camp out. They were about two or three day's march from the Imperial research installation. For them, this was the last stretch towards their objective. They had been walking for nearly a week, skirting the mountains to avoid running into the main attack corridors of the hive-forces.

As they all sat around the fire with the stars above them, Su'Botai glanced out of the corner of his eyes, watching the Sergeant climb a distant rock to get a field of vision. He turned to face Ryke, who was facing away from the campfire a few meters away. The Black Templar had lit up four candles and had arranged them around him to form a prayer circle. Before him were his bolter, knives, and grenades, and he rested his hand on them as if praying for the souls of his armaments.

 

"Hey!" Su'Botai took a swig of wine from his gourd and, as usually did, called over to Ryke to offer him some. "Hey! Laowai! You want a swig?"

 

"No." Ryke responded.

 

"Alright, laowai. Don't say I didn't offer." Su'Botai said, not unkindly, and took another swig before tossing the drink to Hargund. The White Scars scratched a thick scar that ran from his forehead down to his cheek, stopping short of where his long mustaches flowed down. He wiped the dripping wine from his chin with the back of his armored hand.

 

"Quintus," Su'Botai said, turning to the Ultramarine. "Do you not find it coincidental that a Space Wolf, a White Scar, and two Ultramarines would be assigned to the same squad? All four of us are descendents of the original Legions, are we not?"

Quintus nodded to the rhetorical question.

 

"That we are, brother," replied the Ultramarine, who took the opportunity to unload the ammunition casing of his heavy bolter. The rack came apart with a snap, and a long belt of ammunition rattled out from its container. Each round, Hargund noticed, was the size of his fist.

 

"I've heard of Macragge and it's mountains." Su'Botai continued with a grin, "A beautiful homeworld, no doubt. Not as beautiful as mine, of course, but a beautiful world nonetheless."

 

Quintus chuckled. He was disassembling his heavy weapon to clean it. Hargund noticed how the Ultramarine went about it with the deftness and skill, borne of decades of doing the same repeated action time and again. The Space Wolf had no doubt then that should they come under attack that very second, the Ultramarine could have the weapon assembled, loaded, and ready to fire within less than a minute. Risky, no doubt, but better than suffering a weapons jam.

 

"Tell me, then, Ultramarine," the White Scar continued, "Do you miss your homeworld?"

 

Quintus nodded.

 

"Aye brother. But I did not hail from Macragge." he said. "No, I hailed from Lax, one of our fiefdoms in the Ultramar system. I was recruited there when I was young, and sent to Macragge for training."

 

Hargund nodded. "Aye, so what was Lax like, then?" the wolf asked.

 

"Calm." replied Quintus. "Calm and peaceful. You would have been surprised that they could find a candidate for training from a world such as mine."

 

"Ah, regardless... what do you miss most from there, Brother Quintus?" Su'Botai asked, leaning closer so his face was lit by the light of the campfire. The flame-light played shadowy tricks upon the groove of his facial scar. Coupled with his snaking braided mustache and beard, it made him look like the dragons of ancients Asiatic legends of old Terra.

 

"My home city. First Landing." Quintus said, pausing from cleaning his weapon to stare into the fire, a quick glimpse before his gaze fell back down upon his previous activity.

 

"I remember as a boy, I had no family and I lived on the streets," he continued, "I would climb the tall marbled buildings and run through the walkways that connected the rooftops and sky-bazaars. In the early morning, at dawn when the day began, the choirs would sing their praise to the Emperor from the Ecclesiarchy convents. Their voices would drift from street to street with silver harmony, like the sound of a flight of angels praying. Then, the sun would shine golden upon the white skytowers of the city. I would climb to the highest peak I could reach, and stare at it, and feel its warmth upon my face, and I would sit and watch the freighters and cargo ships land and take-off from yonder spaceport, into the morning light."

 

All three marines nodded as they stared into the fire. A few silent moments passed before it was broken again.

 

"They tell you to forget your past," Hargund said. "But you never really forget, do you?"

 

Quintus shook his head.

 

"Never." he said. "And, I speak no lies when I say that: I would not want to anyhow."

Su'Botai smiled. The gourd of wine had been returned to him, and he drank more.

"What of you, Brother Wolf?" asked the White Scar, "Surely your homeworld is not so nice as our friend's here? I hear Fenrisian winters are so cold, and food so scarce, you eat your own tribesmen."

 

Su'botai and Hargund laughed. The Ultramarine, who never could relate to such a savage background, only chuckled awkwardly. Hargund guessed he might have been wondering if it was true.

 

"No, not our own." answered Hargund, snatching the gourd back from the White Scar when it was passed back to him. "Only our enemies'. And marinated with the blood of their women."

 

Su'Botai laughed. "And what do you miss, you damn bastard?"

 

"Me?" Hargund said, as he took some time to contemplate. He stared into the fire, then spoke: "Hmmm... I miss the great fires that burned within our halls. Not this little flame we got here. No, they were big fires...Only the strongest tribes had firm land to build a castle big enough for such a flame, for a fire within any lesser house would have been madness."

 

The Wolf saw that both men were listening now. Quintus was already re-assembling his weapon. He had barely begun and was halfway done, from what Hargund could tell. He took another sip before continuing.

 

"In those halls, great warriors would come from all corners of the islands. And the strongest karls from the lord's tribe would gather around great spitted beasts roasting upon the flames."

 

Hargund leaned closer to his comrades, as if to share a cherished secret.

 

"On a good night, there was so much flesh roasting that the smell of spiced and peppered meat would drift to neighboring islands and set their starving tribesfolk a-famished. We would eat and we would drink around this mighty fire, warm and safe from the winter's cold and the treachery of lesser warriors, for only friends were welcomed in these hallowed halls. At times, we would sing and fight in equal measures. And the women? Arrrrr... the women..."

 

Here the Space Wolf gestured the shape of a disproportioned bottle with his gauntleted hands.

 

"They had tits bigger than yer head, Scar."

 

They all laughed. Hargund tossed the gourd to Quintus, who refused libation, and passed it back to Su'Botai.

 

"And what of you, Su'Botai of the White Scars?" Quintus asked.

 

Su'Botai nodded, downing the rest of his wine first. He took a moment to think, staring silently into the fire, stroking his mustache with one hand. For a second, Hargund thought he forgot to answer, but then he spoke, and the Wolf realized that the Scar wanted his answer to be worthy of being spoken.

 

"The Talskari Plains of Chogoris." he spoke. "Miles upon miles of steppes, teeming with grass. The clan of my people lived upon these lands, and we would ride through plains and forest, past rivers and streams, first on our Terran horses, then upon our war bikes. But the plains... You have never felt true freedom until you have felt the wind upon your face, the speed in your guts as you travel faster than lightning, without anything to slow you down, without anything to hold you back. A day's ride, and you would stop upon the highest hill, and from there, you could sit down and hear the whistling wind flowing through the grass, like a giant's whisper to your ears. In our tribes, the children would ride to these grasses when they came of age. And they would run through it, and scare the giant dragonflies. Hundreds of them would fly up, the sun glimmering upon their radiant, chitinous scales, and for all their size, their wings flapped with the speed of a thousand horses, and they flew so fast that if you managed to catch one with your bare hands, it was considered a great and lucky omen."

 

Su'botai grinned.

 

"I caught five myself." he clarified. "And I was only seven. But such was my dexterity."

 

Their laughter was cut short when Sergeant Marius had returned. Hargund spat into the fire as he instinctively reached for his helmet. The others followed suit, and Ryke finished his prayer before clamping chains to his wrists, then to his weapons.

 

"Put out the fire,” Sergeant Marius ordered. "Stow your gears and check your ammo. We march north. Brother Hargund, take point. Brother Ryke, cover our rear. The rest, form up on me. We move out."

 

They hustled to get ready, quickly and efficiently. Quintus paced over to his commanding officer.

 

"Is something wrong, Brother-Sergeant?" Quintus asked.

 

Marius did not look back at his comrade, only to the distance, northward.

 

"The xenos have advanced farther than we expected." Marius answered, "Vox reports say they broke through our Guardsmen's lines. The mission has become a priority, brother. We have no more time to waste."

 

 

 

 

 

EDITED- For Spelling and Grammar

[Arthanor]

Well done!

 

A bit more familiarity between the marines that I'd expect but it was well portrayed. I guess after 7 months with the same guys and nothing to do, you end up a bit familiar! The bit with the ultramarine talking about "the 1st Coy guys" was good. It shows a kind of evolution between the "regular marine" and the veteran who has seen most of his brethren die and just keeps going.

 

And... Poking fun at the Templars eh? :P Nice touch! Do you have a friend in the Eternal Crusade?

[-Volsung-]

Well done!

 

A bit more familiarity between the marines that I'd expect but it was well portrayed. I guess after 7 months with the same guys and nothing to do, you end up a bit familiar! The bit with the ultramarine talking about "the 1st Coy guys" was good. It shows a kind of evolution between the "regular marine" and the veteran who has seen most of his brethren die and just keeps going.

 

And... Poking fun at the Templars eh? :) Nice touch! Do you have a friend in the Eternal Crusade?

 

Hey! Glad you like it :lol:

 

No, unfortunately I don't know anyone who rolls with Black Templar,s but I can say I considered Black Templar back when 3rd edition was around and I was just starting out (damn, I must have been just a lil kid!), and I was debating whether to go into 40k or Battletech.

[Nrthstar]

Pretty cool, admittedly I know nothing of the white scars, so I was interesting to see their personality.

[captain fabian]

Very good indeed. That wich cought my attention though was the sheer realisation of what the marines are. In the bit where they say 'Forget about your past' but they never forget, I liked it because for me it still shows the human side of themarines. Are you going to continue the story?

[-Volsung-]

Thanks guys! I really don't know yet. Probably will, if inspiration hits me. :(

[Jaton666]

Good stuff. You really should continue this story. You have built the characters well now lets see some action. :(

[Bearingtheword]

Very, very impressive Brother Volsung. Well worthy of a mug or five :) Definitely enjoyed it, and hope there is more to come :P

 

~BtW

[-Volsung-]

Well, as expected, inspiration came and here's the second part! I hope you guys enjoy it! :D

 

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"The Sins of Knowledge"

 

By: - V -

 

 

The analog chronometer within Hargund's helmet ticked to a fluorescent green numeral, indicating the time was a quarter till noon. At precisely that time, he saw Ryke, who had taken point, signal the Sergeant over.

 

"Brother-Sergeant, there is a shanty settlement of squatters up ahead," he spoke, "Humans, fellow Imperials by the look of them."

 

"Do they have an escort?" Marius asked, gauging the situation as he strode up to the Black Templar.

 

"Negative, Brother." responded Ryke, his voice distorted inhumanly by the voice box of his helmet. "But they have a transport. Looks military. Unarmed. Chimera STC variant specs, by the looks of it."

 

"Hmmm," Marius ran his armored fingers through his short crop of blonde hair, the gloves ticking when it touched the two honorific studs implanted into the right side of his forehead. The Ultramarine Sergeant turned to his men.

 

"Safe your weapons." he said.

 

Hargund glanced over at Su'Botai, who gave him a nod, while Quintus hoisted his Heavy Bolter to advance forward.

 

"We're going down there to talk." Marius added.

 

The Kill-team made their way past the rocky outcropping until the settlement was in sight. The campsite, as it could be called, was made up of three rusting metal sheds, surrounded by a dozen standard Munitorum-issued green canvas tents. From the presence of those, and from the fact that everyone in the camps looked like civilians, Hargund concluded that they were refugees, likely fleeing from the Tyrannid rampaging through the northern countryside.

 

He wasn't wrong. When they reached the settlement, Hargund saw that they were mostly women, the males being either boys no older than nine or seniors no younger than seventy. The folks looked on at the approaching Astartes with confused faces, their expressions torn between awe and fear, none being accustomed to feeling both simultaneously.mThe Kill-Team proceeded to one of the sheds in the center of the camp, the larger one near to where the Chimera transport was parked. Hargund had guessed that Marius had a mind to speak to the one in charge. As they neared, they found a very old man sitting on a rusted empty barrel. He looked up at them and, not believing his eyes, got off of the drum while removing the grease stained army cap from his head. His scalp was bare and balding save for a few wisps of silvery hair.

 

"Well, Emperor piss on my grave, I don't believe it..." the old man spoke and gave them a toothless smile.

 

"I must have been sixteen of years when I last saw a Space Marine," he said.

 

"Ex-guardsman," Su'Botai said as the space marines formed a circle around the elderly individual.

 

Hargund nodded in confirmation. He too had noticed the army hat, and the jacket that the man wore. It looked like it was centuries old, tears fixed by patches of discolored olive drab fabric. The stitched remains of an Imperial Aquila over the left breast was fraying at the edge, the white thread now browned by mud, dirt, and filth.

 

"Damn right, I am! And for fifty years, with the Emperor as my witness!" he exclaimed, puffing his emaciated chest as much as he could. He looked like his legs were going to give out, but he did not seem to care.

 

"Are you in charge here?" Sergeant Marius asked.

 

"You could say that," responded the old man. "I told them I could still pick up a rifle and shoot alongside the best of them, but they wanted me here to guide the refugees. Duty is duty, so I guess I'm the one in charge of this here camp."

 

Hargund took a look around. As the Sergeant and the old man conversed, the Space Wolf strode over to an overturned ammunition crate lying on the ground. As he approached it, the metal container, which was about the same size as the metal barrel the old man had been sitting on, began rattling.

 

The Space Wolf's finger threaded into the trigger guard of his boltgun by instinct. To his surprise, a little girl of about four years of age popped out from under the crate and looked around in confusion.

 

She blinked with huge, shining eyes, glanced around, and settled on Hargund's kneecap, which was at the same height as her forehead. She strained to look up at his face, so much that she nearly fell back. He must have seemed like a skyscrapper to her eyes.

 

"No hide and seek?" she asked him, her voice a mouse's squeak. She looked around again, and couldn't find any of the other children. Their mothers had likely snatched them and hid them as they saw the marines approach.

 

Hargund did not respond. He scanned the area with his enhanced eyes, observing the refugees, the way they lived, taking in the sights, and at the same time conscious of where his battle brothers were and what they were doing.

 

Quintus was standing at ease next to Sergeant Marius, who was still speaking to the old man. Ryke was standing guard, along with Su'Botai. They towered over the refugees, who were mostly watching them from the safety of their tents, most too frightened to stand out in the open. No doubt they must be terrifying presence to these civilians, Hargund thought, as he removed his helmet.

 

Suddenly, he heard a click coming from his right greave.

 

The Space Wolf looked down and his eyes widened in silent surprise. The little four-year-old had climbed onto his right boot and was trying to reach for the strip of furry pelt hanging from his belt. She was standing tip-toed on black ceramite and her hand was a tiny fist clutching at the wolfskin.

 

"She seems like she likes you, Space Wolf. I'm surprised your ugly face didn't scare her off." Hargund heard Su'Botai's voice from behind him. The White Scar strode up to his comrade and was removing his helmet. There was a sly grin upon his scarred lips and he too looked down at the young girl, who was still busy trying to pull the pelt free.

 

Hargund turned his glance from Su'Botai back to the little girl.

 

"Stop that." he ordered the girl. She did not comply.

 

"Come on now, stop that.” he said again, and she stopped and stared at him before jabbing the thumb of her left hand squarely into her mouth.

 

"Please forgive her, I am terribly sorry!" Hargund heard an older voice and looked up to see a young woman hurrying up to them. She snatched the girl up from Hargund's boot and cradled her in weary arms.

 

"Really, she meant no harm, my lord. Please forgive her, she is young and she doesn't know any better!" the woman pleaded.

 

"It's quite alright, miss!" the White Scar said kindly. "Tis us that means no harm."

 

The woman gave the marine a tired smile, before looking at the girl.

 

"What did I tell you about playing far from where I can see you!" she scolded the child. Hargund guessed the kid was her daughter.

 

The little child took her thumb out of her mount in order to free her hand so she could point, upwards, at Hargund's face.

 

"But he's friendly!" she said with a child's honesty, and Su'Botai nearly guffawed.

 

"You hear that?" the White Scar said to his comrade, his amusement peaked even more by the uncomprehending frown on Hargund's face. "She thinks you're friendly, laowai! I guess there's one person in this galaxy that holds such an opinion of you, hah!"

 

"Right..." Hargund grunted, his hand moving up to scratch the braided strands on his chin

 

"Beard!" the child exclaimed suddenly, her grasping hands outstretched. Hargund instinctively took a step back.

 

Su'Botai only laughed.

 

"White Scar! Space Wolf!" Marius called over to them. "Get over here!"

 

Hargund grunted again, the sound more like a canine growl than a human sound.

 

"Be more careful with your whelp, woman. There are many dangers about,” said the Space Wolf to the mother before he turned to leave. Su'Botai turned back to the lady, who was bouncing her daughter in her arm.

 

"Please excuse us, miss," he said, and she nodded as he walked of to join his squad. The little girl waved the two marines goodbye, but neither saw the gesture.

 

"Sergeant?" Hargund asked.

 

"Brothers, I have talked to his man and we have procured transportation to our objective. We will be there by nightfall. This should save us a day's march," the sergeant stated.

 

"But we will need it back!" the old man added hurriedly. "We can't evacuate everyone on foot. Hell, I'm old and I will walk so the women could have a seat in the car, but we have pregnant women and even older folks who just can't manage the trek!"

 

"Understood." Marius responded to the old man. "We will return you your transport once we have completed our mission. Now go and fuel her up."

 

Hargund didn't have a good feeling on this. He had a sickening sense that they were taking advantage of these folks, but he kept his silence. No doubt Marius was a man of his words, even if he was an intolerable individual.

 

The vehicle was a Chimera, and old stripped version of it without weapons or armor plating. Room was made to accommodate as many passengers as possible, and to go as fast as possible while using the minimum amount of fuel. They rode out from the refugee camp, and by sundown, they had followed a muddy trail that climbed rocky hills until it led them to a clearing upon a sparsely wooded hilltop.

 

It looked like the right place, Hargund thought. The coordinates were correct. Chain-link barriers topped with razorwire fenced in the entire perimeter, but Marius revved the Chimera to crush down the main gate, knocking over a sign that declared in Imperial Gothic that the area was restricted.

 

The installation didn't look like much. It reminded Hargund of a bunker, a two-floored facility built from poured concrete and reinforced cement. There were no windows, or balconies, only a radar dish on the second floor rooftop and an antenna array on the side. There were no guards, only automated turrets that looked powered down and useless. The massive metal blast doors that served as portal into the facility were sealed shut, and the entire place had an air of being abandoned.

 

"Alright, here we are brothers. A beautiful sight, is it not?" Quintus joked, getting out of the Chimera and hoisting up his heavy weapon.

 

"Yeah, wonder if they have a feast laid out to welcome us past those doors." Hargund commented.

 

"Keep your eyes pealed, brothers." Marius said. "And get those doors opened."

 

It took some effort to cut the lock and the teamwork of all five Asartes to push the giant adamantium doors open, but they finally managed it.

 

A cold, chilling breeze met them as they entered the darkened corridors of the research station. It smelled wrong, Hargund thought. He wasn't sure if the other marines had the enhanced olfactory senses that he had, for he wasn't educated as to the qualities of their respective gene-seeds, but the gift of Russ's wolfkin heritage allowed him to smell the details of his surrounding. And at this very moment, it reeked of corruption.

 

Not Chaos, Hargund thought as he sniffed the dank air, although he wasn't sure if that was of any comfort. It smelled alien. He clutched his bolter.

 

Their boots clanked on corroding steel grates as they entered the heart of the facility. The darkness of the corridor was lit only by their shoulder units and the lights mounted upon their boltguns. Eventually, they entered a dim chamber that seemed like a control room, and finally they saw the first signs of life.

 

"Guess these bastards are the welcoming party, then." Hargund mused.

 

It was a control room of sorts. Two doorways on opposite sides of the room led to some other facility beyond this room, while the only exit was from where the Killteam had entered. About a dozen humanoid figures were at their control stations. Most of them looked like servitors. A pair of servo-skulls were drifting around the room, tapping into command consoles lining the wall. The entire room was lit in an eerie green light from the color of the electronic screens. A robed figure stood upon a pedestal in the center of the room, and turned to face them as he heard their boots.

 

"The alarm did not trigger? Who are you, intruders? Space Marines?" it said.

 

"We are here for the data." Marius demanded, his voice booming to the point where it made a few of the other robed, shadowy figures jump. "Give it to us."

 

"Data?" the figure spoke. "Ah yes. You must be Inquisitor Hanek's men. But why would he send the Deathwatch?"

 

"Inquisitor Hanek?" Marius asked.

 

There was a silence.

 

"You mean, Inquisitor Hanek did not send you?" the figure asked.

 

There was no response. Hargund knew some of the occupants were reaching for unseen weapons.

 

Something smelled terribly wrong, Hargund thought. The silence was still there, but none in the room except for the five Deathwatch heard Marius's whisper over the private vox-com.

 

+Hanek was excommunicated. These men are heretics. Leave the leader to me. Kill the rest.+

 

"Wait a minute! Just who sent you?" the figure demanded as Marius began walking over to where it stood. Its voice took on a tone of terror.

 

Marius drew his bolt pistol. The figure reached into its robe for a laspistol, but before it could draw it, Marius had fired. The round went clean through the robed figure's lower right pelvis and blew the right leg off. It screamed in agony.

 

At the same time, in less than seconds, Hargund had shouldered his boltgun and had opened fire on the other shapes in the room. Only three of them turned to run upon hearing the gunshots. Hargund shot one of the runners in the back, and his robed form slumped over a command console. Ryke shot the other two with precise bursts from his gun, before aiming up and picking off the servo-skulls with timed shots. The rest of the room's occupants must have been servitors, because they merely stood there as Su'Botai walked up to each one and fired a round each into the back of their heads. Ten seconds had passed, and everything in the room was neutralized saved for the leader figure and the kill-team.

 

Marius stood looming over the prone human form, and snatched the robe from its body. Underneath the vestment was a man paled from months, if not years, confined in this station. Hargund looked over his features and doubted the individual had seen much sun. And the blood loss from the severed leg only made him look worse.

 

"What do you want from us?" the wounded researcher hissed through clenched teeth, his hands grasping the stump where his right leg had been.

 

"Where is the data?" Marius demanded.

 

"I don't know what yo-aaarrgghh!"

 

Marius had shoved his power-armored hand into the bloody ruins of the man's wound. The scream of pain echoed down the corridor.

 

 

"Hargund. Take Ryke and Su'Botai. Inspect every corner of this instalation." ordered the Ultramarine Sergeant.

 

"Report to me if you find anything." Marius added before twisting his hand even deeper into his prisoner's wound. The second scream was even worse.

 

"The data. Hand it over. Now."

 

Hargund walked over to one of the doors. This one was sealed, and he could not open it, so he tried the one across from it. The second door swiveled open to reveal metal stairways leading down to some sort of detention area. The marine shouldered his gun and paced down the steps to enter a corridor that ran about ten meters down. The other two followed him, leaving the two Ultramarines behind.

 

To their left, the hallway was lined with about seven holding cells and stopped at a dead end. To their right was a security office and armory.

 

A man garbed in a guardsman's tunic was cowering behind his desk, clutching a lasrifle as Ryke forced the security office's door open. The guard froze in terror and only stared at the Black Templar before Ryke leveled his boltgun and blew the man's head off with one shot. They ransacked the armory to find another pair of lasrifles and a Departmento Munitorium flamer. The rifles they tossed aside as useless, and the flamer unit was not an Astartes pattern and required a backpack-mounted promethium tank. Ryke holstered his bolter and took the flamer in one hand and the fuel tank in the other, clutching the unit as an exterminator would clutch a tank of insecticide in his hunt for cockroaches.

 

Hargund led the way down the corridor and gazed into the occupants of each cell.

 

The sight sickened even his hardened sensibilities. The first six cells were filled with one or two individuals each. Some of them appeared to be in different stages of mutation. They were moaning and groaning in tortured states, some growing immense clawed arms from their backs and from their sides. Their faces were contorted into beastly xeno features, and in the sixth cell, one creature was barely recognizable as human. It slammed its snarling, fanged head into the cage, roaring at the Astartes that stood across the barrier. In the seventh cell, they found it to have been converted into a white-walled laboratory where, upon a sterile slab, laid a dead and dissected alien creature.

 

The three marines took a closer at the dead xeno. Su'Botai drew in a breath, before quickly thumbing the stud behind his ear, activating his vox unit.

 

"Sergeant." the White Scar spoke into the communications unit. "It looks like they have been experimenting on humans. There's a dead genestealer here. It looks like they've been operating on it. And there are a few survivors."

 

Marius's voice crackled over the vox.

 

+Cleanse them and come back+ the Sergeant ordered with finality.

 

Walking back out into the corridor, Ryke, Su'Botai, and Hargund each took a cell to cleanse.

 

Ryke had already begun torching the first cell with his flamer. The smell of burning flesh and the screams flowed down the corridor, while at the same time, Hargund loaded a fresh magazine into his weapon before he pried the door open to one of the other cells.

 

Inside, there was a figure lying on a slab that acted as the prisoner's bed. The figure sat up as it heard him enter, for it had been cowering when it heard the screaming. The blanket fell away to reveal its form. Hargund stopped dead in his track.

 

It was another little girl.

 

Not the same little girl that he saw in the refugee camp, but this one looked like she was around the same age. Something terrible had happened to this child. She looked ordinary until she had sat up to reveal tiny clawed arms growing out of her back. Her forehead showed the sign of a hardened chitin crest growing out of the skin. She looked like some sick fusion of a Tyrannid Xenos and a human being. Her eyes were bloodshot, she looked feverish, and she seemed on the verge of tears as she stared at the Space Wolf.

 

Hargund gritted his teeth in rage. This was blasphemy. Worse. It was an abomination. He had seen atrocities, some done by man to fellow man. It came with wars, as if by nature. Yet the question still entered his mind, even now after nearly a century of experience: How could someone do this?

 

"Is my mommy here?" she pleaded with him. "Where is my mommy?"

 

Hargund leveled his gun and aimed at her head. If he had been younger, if he had still been a Blood Claw, he knew he would have wondered if there was any way she could be saved. He would have pleaded to take her with them, to find a cure for her. If it was done, it can be undone, can it not? The question felt hollow now that he was older. He was no longer that naive, and it made it worse. It made him wish he still was. How did the litany go? Blessed is the mind too small for doubt? Bloody rubbish.

 

For a while, nothing happened. Hargund just stood there, staring, as if in deep contemplation. He couldn't fathom doing anything.

 

"Where is my mommy?" she asked again. A tear rolled down her cheek.

 

Hargund pulled the trigger. The gunblast echoed down the hall. He realized without looking that his comrades had finished their jobs, and they had all been standing behind him, observing him as he froze in hesitation at the sight of the monstrosity. The girl fell back on her bed. Hargund couldn't see her head. It was probably not there anymore.

 

It was then, in the dim lighting, that Hargund noticed the object that she was clutching in her arms.

 

It was a small, white-furred teddy bear. It stared at him with black plastic beads for eyes. A small patch of fur on its left ear bore the stain of a tiny red droplet of its owner's blood. He wondered then if she had been cradling this bear for comfort through her imprisonment, if she had clutched the toy close to her and buried her in its comforting fur to ward off the whisperings at night, voices that she no doubt thought were monsters in the night and not the mutterings of the hive mind brood. Hargund wondered then if there was any hope for this xenos-hybrid child, if she had been an innocent girl like the one with the refugees he had seen earlier, if her mother was still alive looking for her, or if now her soul would go to join the Emperor. He didn't want to admit that it was possible that she would be cast into the void with all the other xenos that had fallen at his hands, her life the price of someone's hunger for the sins of knowledge. Maybe she was still human enough to be redeemed in death. He could only convince himself of that, without a hint of assurance.

 

Hargund felt a hand rest on his shoulder plate and growled.

 

It was Su'Botai.

 

"Come, brother..." said the White Scar, "We're done here."

 

The Space Wolf turned to the little girl's body.

 

"Come." Su'Botai repeated.

 

Hargund shrugged the White Scar aside and stood at the doorway, his hands grasping the doorframe's edges. He took one last glance back at the body, and whispered, under his breath: "Russ watch over this little one, and guide her soul to her ancestors."

 

Then he walked out.

 

Su'Botai followed behind him as the Space Wolf stepped out of the cell. From the corner of his eye, Hargund's last sight of the detention facility was Ryke hoisting the Munitorium flamer and entering the girl's cell. A moment later, he heard the crackling of cleansing flame as the room bathed in a stream of ignited promethium.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EDITED- For Grammar

[Anaraion]

Wow.

 

Thank you.

 

Been a wolf since 3 Ed. Being an adult and parenthood took too much time away from the Fang. Now finally back in the Rout and it feels good.

 

So again my thanks for sharing your skills. I look forward to any more you care to share.

[Bearingtheword]

Awesome -V-!

 

 

Was gonna ask...you spend much time at the LA battle Bunker there in Westminster? or are you to far from OC to frequent it? I grew up near there and checked it out last time I was down and was impressed with it. (It was the first one I had been in) Sucks that they closed the Upland/Ontario GW as that was the closest to where my inlaws live up in Victorville. Had been hoping to have a place close to go when we visit them. Anyhow, awesome story and keep writing, you have a talent for it!

 

~BtW

[-Volsung-]

Thanks! I'm glad you guys are still enjoying it!

 

Yo Btw!

 

Nah, I haven't been there yet, even tho I'm studying down in the OC. I want to, one day tho, and also pay a visit to Brookhurst Hobbies, which I think is also near there. It's supposed to be this pretty big FLGS. But yeah, during the school year, I just don't have the time to partake of any of the hobby. When I come home from break tho, then I have time, but I come from West LA, San Fernando, and the only accessible game store is this friendly spot called the Game Ogre. Usually go there for paint refills, hah!

 

Haven't gotten around to being more involved in the hobby stores themselves yet, I don't even know anyone at the store. Kinda hesitant at the moment, mainly cuz I don't wanna show up with an unpainted army... I have five painted marines so far.

 

So, you could say I'm still in the collecting, painting, modelling, and fluff-immersion stage! Slow and steady, right? :wub:

[Bearingtheword]

Ahh, Brookhurst Hobbies. Been there many times, but it's been at least 12 years since I was there last. They have lots of cool stuff. All kinds of historical minis, scenery and other awesome things. Used to go there to get the Osprey military history books. Impressed that that place is still open, hehe.

 

Yeah, take your time build your army (ies) and have fun with them. I always hated seeing unpainted armies on the table. Out here where I am now is sucksville as far as finding other players. Closest FLGS is up in Vegas, about an hour and half away. But yeah, slow and steady build em up and have fun with em. And like I said keep up the writing! We are enjoying it.

 

~BtW

[Wulfkry]

bloody marvelous story. need more.....

[-Volsung-]

Alright, brothers! Here we go!

 

Here's the 3rd part:

 

 

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

 

"Project Hegemon"

 

By: - V -

 

 

Sergeant Marius cocked his bolt pistol to chamber a round into the weapon. He then held it against his prisoner's crotch. The man was whimpering, Hargund noticed as he approached the pedestal, and it was a surprise to him how the wound did not render the man unconscious. Even more so, he was surprise blood loss did not finish the job. The man had been bleeding a fountain when Hargund had last seen him, but now, upon closer inspection, he realized Marius had found a way to cauterize the stump. It was a quick and messy job, and undoubtedly painful.

 

Hargund frowned upon seeing at the researcher's pale face. This man deserved a worse death for his sins, he thought.

 

"Are you well, brother?" Quintus asked the Wolf, "You look ill at ease."

 

There was another scream as Marius snatched one of the man's ribs and shattered it with a flick of his wrist. Hargund suppressed a cold grin, and Quintus noticed that as well, with a hint of suspicion.

 

"I'm fine." Hargund said, not wanting to tell Quintus what he had seen, or done, only minutes before. "Is he close to talking?"

 

"Seems like it," said the Ultramarine heavy-boltgunner, and he was proven correct.

 

"Where is the data?" Marius asked again, his voice calm and cool as the night breeze.

 

The researcher was silent, his breathing ragged and interrupted by sudden sobbing spasm of pain. One of his eyes was missing, Hargund noticed. With a feeble finger, the tortured creature raised his finger to point at the doorway, the one Hargund and his squad mates had found locked and sealed. He was saving it for last, having a mind to use one of their melta charges to blow it open.

 

Marius followed the direction the finger pointed. With one hand, the Sergeant grabbed the researcher's remaining leg and dragged the man moaning off the pedestal and across the floor to the doorway. The other marines followed behind in silence, their weapons shouldered.

 

As they neared the door, Marius stopped and lifted the man to his one remaining foot.

 

"How do we open it?" he demanded his victim.

 

"It's locked with a password. It only recognizes the lead magni's voices. I am the last magnus left."

 

The Ultramarine Sergeant took in a deep breath. He grabbed the researcher's head and slammed him, face first, against the vox receptor next to the door.

 

"Speak." Marius ordered.

 

The researcher struggled. When he spoke, he spat blood and saliva onto the mouthpiece.

 

"We Live in the Shadow of the Hegemon." he said.

 

For a second, nothing happened. Marius glared into the terrified eyes of the researcher, who began to panic. But then, there was a deep, booming clank from behind the door, and soon, the locking mechanism retracted, separating from the doorframe and pulling the gateway open to reveal the entrance to another room.

 

The Kill-Team entered the new area with trained caution. Hargund noticed something strange in the room, a presence that he could not explain. It was not a smell, for he could only detect the scent of pine oil and promethium. It was more of a feeling, a feeling that someone else was in the room, a feeling tantamount to staring into the mouth of a cavern and knowing that there was a bear asleep deep within its bowels.

 

But the spaced looked devoid of life. It was dimly lit by the green glow originating from a single command console in the middle of the room. Apart from those electronics were rows of server modules lining the wall. But the most noticeable aspect was the huge cylinder elevated upon a glowing pedestal at the center. All manners of tubes, cables, and wires protruded from this water-tank looking contraption, but the content of the ominous object was shaded, Hargund noticed, by a protective blast screen adorned with countless parchments and litanies. Embossed upon the screen was the sigil of the Inquisition. It was not a comforting sight.

 

"This must be that Hanek's work, no doubt." Quintus said.

 

"Who is this Hanek, exactly?" Su'Botai asked. Hargund wondered also.

 

"He was a former Inquisitor." Marius said, dragging the still-alive researcher to the command console before releasing him. "He was also excommunicated, so that makes him a heretic and a traitor."

 

"Not true." corrected the researcher.

 

They all stared down at the wounded man, who had propped himself up to a sitting position against the console's stand.

 

"Hanek was a true servant of the Emperor." the researcher managed, "You will realize this when you see the fruits of his vision."

 

He raised a feeble, broken finger to point at the cylindrical tank dominating the room.

 

"The data is in there." he said, "All your answers are in there. Open it and see."

 

Marius looked down at the console port and began keying in some commands. There was a clanking sound, followed by a rumbling noise that shook the room. Hargund kept his eyes fixed on the cylinder and watched as the blast screens parted with a monstrous grinding of metal.

 

Gradually, the room was bathed in a glowing nimbus of light emanating from the cylinder's content. It was blinding, but Hargund adjusted his vision while shading the worst of it with his hand. Within seconds, the light diminished, and the entire kill-team looked on at the thing trapped within the cylinder.

 

It was a stasis pod. Suspended within a glowing force field was the power-armored figure of an Astartes marine, his body penetrated by hundreds of cables and intravenous tubes. The arms were missing, as were the legs, replaced instead by large metallic ports that clamped onto the flesh where stumps would have been.

 

Worse, however, were the mutations that warped the body of this former brother. It looked like the macabre fancies of some crazed xeno-scientist. Four genestealer arms were growing out of the stasis-suspended marine, two out of his backpack unit and two from below his ribs. The new limbs shattered ceramite where it grew, and it coiled flesh and myomer cables into a fusion of power armor and chitin. The remains of a psychic hood encircling the marine's head was now a fleshy composite of wiring, ceramite, and tentacles.

 

Hargund wasn't quite sure which was the worse sight, the xeno-hybrid child he had killed earlier, or this mutated specimen that had once been Astartes. Even Ryke seemed horrified at the sight, for he was now muttering lines of litanies as he looked upon the hideous exhibit.

 

If the Sergeant felt any emotions at the sight, he did not show it. Instead, Marius keyed something else into the console and a pair of servo skulls activated on a nearby data port. They flew towards the tank and settled on either side of the pod, like hovering guardians. Both servo skulls deployed an array of apparatus from their internal compartments, wiry contraptions that assembled themselves into glowing holo-vid screens filled with flowing lines of information.

 

"True beauty." the researcher muttered as he stared at the frozen mutant marine. Despite the pain of his wounds, his face took on an expression of genuine pride.

 

The floating holo-screens expanded to reveal an entire profile of the test subject. The schematics showed lines after lines of coded data; from study observations to micro-counts of protein synthesis, even down to the milliseconds that separated each beat of the marine's two hearts. The data summaries were outlined in glowing Imperial Gothic texts on one of the screens. It read:

 

 

 

+ PROJECT HEGEMON+

 

+ Word of the Day: Faith without deeds is worthless +

+ PROJECT AUTHORIZED BY INQUISITIORIAL AUTHORITY OF LORD INQUISITOR OBADIAH HANEK, ORDO XENOS +

+ SUBJECT STATUS: STABLE +

+ SUBJECT: MARTIUS AEGON, LIBRARIAN, 5th COMPANY, BLOOD RAVEN CHAPTER. ADEPTUS ASTARTES+

 

+ RESEARCHER LOG 1- We have noticed increased resistance to the Tyrannid genestealer genetic strains from this Specimen. We have implanted the same mutagens into the other test subjects. The fodders showed very susceptible reaction to the genes, but this Subject's Astartes geneseeds have resisted mutation on a more resilient level. Deactivation and controlled mutation of the gene-seed will be necessary in order to unlock its restrictions. The gene-seed is key. +

+RESEARCHER LOG 2- File Corruption. Purged.+

+RESEARCHER LOG 3- File Corruption. Purged.+

+RESEARCHER LOG 4- File Corruption. Purged.+

 

 

The list of corrupted data logs went on, the numbers ticking almost indefinitely up until Log 245, where the corruption ended. The last logs were saturated with jargon and empirical observations that Hargund could not comprehend, but he understood from the gist of it that the project was successful, and there was physical evidence to prove it. The creature in the tank, he realized, looked as close to a perfect hybridized fusion of man and alien as far as his eyes could tell.

 

As the data shuffled, Quintus stared in disbelief before turning his gaze onto the prone form of the researcher.

 

"You cursed maleficarum. You've captured an Astartes Librarian?" the Ultramarine spat.

 

"Captured?" the researcher said with a weary smile. "Who said anything about captured? Greater minds than yours understand the need for sacrifice."

 

Hargund was dumbfounded. The researcher seemed to have detected this, as he made eye contact with him. Immediately, the Space Wolf sensed the perverted genius within this man's mind, and he growled in disgust. The wounded man looked away dismissively.

 

"No, friends. Brother Aegon volunteered himself," the man replied, "For such was the importance of our mission."

 

"And what was this mission?" Sergeant Marius snapped. "To create some new Astartes-spawned xeno-horrors for our enemies? To give a new weapon for the Tyrannids rampaging through our lands to use against us?"

 

"No, not for them! For us!" the researcher yelled back, his speech suddenly interrupted by a hacking cough that emitted blood.

 

"This was to be our gift," the wounded man shouted again, wiping his chin. "Our gift to the Imperium of Man, to the Emperor himself! We studied the damned Xenos not to destroy them, but to CONTROL them. Are you blind, marine? Do you not understand? Do you not understand the blessing that's sitting right in front of your eyes?"

 

"The finest minds have lived and died in this facility,” the researcher continued. "Tens of thousands of test subjects, culled from the finest and purest Imperial human stock this world can offer. They gave their lives, to be tested on and retested, then purged, all to perfect the gene-splicing methods. For decades, we have labored away in the secrecy of this base, safe from the short-sighted and fanatical puritans who would have us handicapped in the fight against the enemies of mankind. And now, we have succeeded. We have fused the apex of xenobiology and psyonics to create this! The Librarian IS the data! He is the FINAL result!"

 

He gestured again at the marine frozen in stasis. Hargund followed the motion to stare at the grotesque figure hanging within the stasis pod. The researcher magnus had been so proud of his creation, even as he lay dying on the floor before them. And the Librarian too. His face, the only normal part of his body, looked peaceful and serene. Was he a willing contributor too? Did his Chapter sanction his volunteering? Did they know about this? Or were they too so blinded by their passion, they did not see the horrors of it all? Hargund could only wonder.

 

"He is a voice that can speak to the hive mind, friends,” the research announced, laughing. "His powers are so great that when we wake him, he can wrestle control of the Hive Fleets. He's done it already. He can control the broodlings. With him, we can subdue their minds and bend the will of the Tyrannids to the Emperor's service. Just imagine what we can do with a hundred of these brave new brothers! Never again will the horrors of Macragge be repeated. Leviathan? Kraken? They would be our servants."

 

Marius's face was impassive. He paced over to the stasis pod and stood staring, in solemn silence, at the figure of the Librarian. The researcher magnus kept speaking.

 

"Imagine what we can do with their fleets, Sergeant. With Leviathan and Kraken alone... we could command them, will them, flood the Eye of Terror with them. Flood the Maelstrom, and eradicate the last strongholds of the Traitor Legions. The Ork Worlds? The Tau Septs in the Damocles? We can purge them all, and when we are done, we can will the Tyrannids to die, to fall dead where they stand or to fly into the sun or drift into the nether voids. No human lives will be lost. Do you understand, marines? What you see before you-"

 

Now the researcher, impossibly, had pulled himself up to stand on one leg, leaning propped against the command console. Again, he pointed at the stasis pod with a shaking arm.

 

"What you see before you, there... It is the last hope of the Imperium. It is our final gift to mankind. It is our futu-"

 

"I've had enough of this," Hargund interrupted, shouldering his bolter.

 

A rapid burst of thunderous gunshots reverberated across the facility as Hargund's rounds penetrated the researcher's chest. The heavy caliber shells blew the man's torso apart, the lifeless corpse flopping onto the floor with a wet splash. His dying shouts were drowned by the gun blasts.

 

Marius spun around as the other Deathwatch brothers shouldered their weapons and instinctively aimed at the Space Wolf. The Ultramarine Sergeant gave him an annoyed look, a steely gaze that would have made lesser men quail in fear. But Hargund was not a lesser man, and only returned the deathly stare with one of his own.

 

"I did not give you orders to kill him, Wolf." Marius hissed.

 

Hargund spat on the floor.

 

"You didn't tell me not to, either." he responded.

 

Su'Botai had lowered his weapon, as did the rest of the team, but all of them stared anxiously at the confrontation between their squad leader and their defiant battle brother.

 

Marius only turned away from Hargund in disgust.

 

"Go on, brothers. Get this stasis pod opened."

 

Brother Ryke strode over to the command console, and wiping the researcher's blood off of the screen so he could see, he keyed something into the port. The force field surrounding the Librarian crackled with witch fire and disappeared. Some of the tubes began to glow, injecting fluids into the Librarian to sustain his idle body. The hybrid-marine began to breathe weakly, but he was still unconscious. They did not want to wake him.

 

"Boltgunners, take aim. Fire on my mark." Marius ordered, raising his bolt pistol to aim at the suspended marine.

 

Hargund shouldered his gun. Su'Botai and Ryke did too. Only Quintus stood by and watched.

 

"Purge." Marius said.

 

And they opened fire.

 

It was thunder. Dozens of bolt rounds riddled the Librarian's immobile form. His body shook from the impacts as the fusillade blew bloody holes into his torso. Cabling and IV tubes exploded, splashing discolored fluids across the floor. Glass and ceramite plating shattered and fell clattering to the floor.

 

Suddenly, a horrifying, ghostly screech ripped through the air.

 

+ NO! + it yelled.

 

Hargund had ceased fire and was clutching at his head. It seemed the voice came from his skull rather than from anywhere else, and it tore through his psyche with a ferocity that left an intense sharp pain in his brain. He was not the only one to have heard it. The Space Wolf looked up to see that all of his fellow kill-team brothers showed similar signs of pain. Quintus fell to his knees, as did Ryke. They were clutching their helmets.

 

Then, the pain stopped. The scream was gone as abruptly as it came. Marius hoisted his pistol and approached the stasis pod with caution.

 

The Librarian's eyes had opened. They stared blankly at the floor for a minute before the eyelids closed again. The former marine's head slumped forward; he was dead.

 

Marius inspected the body carefully while the other battle-brothers watched. After a moment, the Sergeant took out a clawed device from one of his belt pouches. Hargund realized the Ultramarine was going to extract the Librarian's mutated gene-seed, and his suspicions were confirmed when Marius plunged the barbed contraption into the Librarian's chest, twisted, and withdrew a jar containing a pulpy chunk of flesh immersed in fluid. It had tentacles writhing in the liquid medium, and Hargund wondered if that was typical of gene-seeds or, instead, was the product of Tyrannid splicing. He knew not the answer, nor cared.

 

"We should purge it as well," said Hargund. "It should not exist."

 

Rather than confront his audacity, Marius, this time, only sighed.

 

"It is our mission, Hargund," the 1st Company veteran answered. "We have no choice."

 

"You mean you agree with that heretic? Answer me!" Hargund demanded.

 

Marius did not answer.

 

"To hell with his research." Hargund said. "That thing is an abomination. It should not exist. None of this should have happened. All those men, women, and children: they didn't sign up to be made rats in an experiment. They were tainted against their will, with bio-witchcraft. And this is supposed to be our last hope? If this is what humanity has to resort to in order to survive, it doesn't deserve to live!"

 

But upon seeing Marius's eyes, Hargund stopped. In the unspoken silence, he knew Marius agreed with him. The wearied eyes did not lie.

 

"Fall back in line, brother." Marius said tiredly. Hargund decided to give it a rest for now.

 

"What should we do next, Sergeant?" Su'Botai asked, breaking the tension. The White Scar was getting impetuous. He looked as if he wanted to leave this place as soon as possible. Hargund didn't blame him.

 

Marius looked around.

 

"Set melta charges and find some fuel to douse this place." Marius answered.

 

It took them a while, but they managed to find an emergency generator unit in the main control room where a few barrels of fuel were stored, to power the station in the case of a power outage. Hargund took his knife and punctured the barrels, emptying the viscous liquid across the facility. Quintus and Ryke were setting charges while he and the White Scar poured the fuel, drenching command consoles and corpses alike. He was somewhat glad as he saw Quintus disappear down to the detention area with the explosives. Hargund admitted without shame that he didn't want to go back down there. When Quintus reappeared from the stairway, Hargund pushed him aside and rolled a barrel down the stairs, the flammable liquids splashing down the steps and flooding the basement floor. Marius strode up to the console in the stasis pod and uploaded the research information. With the gene-seed and the project files under his protection, he set a charge within the stasis pod itself, and emptied a barrel of fuel onto the limp corpse of the Space Marine Librarian hanging from the cables.

 

When they emerged outside, Hargund took a deep and comforting breath of fresh air. The team made their way to a distance of thirty feet away from the facility before Marius thumbed the trigger on the remote detonator.

 

The rumbling blast sounded muffled at first, as the charges exploded deep within the facility. Then, several consecutive blasts sparked a chain reaction that grew louder until a great explosion swallowed the entire facility in a giant fireball. When the smoke cleared, the flaming ruins of blasted concrete were all that was left of the abominable place. All physical evidence of Project Hegemon was gone, save for what the Kill-team recovered.

 

The battle brothers stood watching the flames in silence. The sun was beginning to set; night was coming. In the distance, flecks descending from the heavens lighted the skies. Something was brewing to the north.

 

"Spore pods." Su'Botai said. "The Tyrannids are mobilizing southwards. The Xenos will likely overrun these hills by morning."

 

"Then, we're done here, are we not?" Brother Ryke asked, hefting his boltgun. The thick chains that locked his firearm to the manacles around the Black Templar's wrists rattled from the movement.

 

"Yes, Brother Ryke." answered Marius. "We proceed to the extraction zone, as planned. Mount up, brothers. It will be several hours before our transport lands, so we will be cutting it short."

 

The Chimera roared its way out of the clearing and onto the rocky hills beyond. They drove for about ten minutes when Hargund suddenly remembered the refugees they left behind.

 

"Sergeant Marius, what of the refugees?" he inquired.

 

Marius turned to face him.

 

"What about them, Hargund?"

 

Hargund was incredulous. He could not believe what he was hearing.

 

"We gave them our words that we would return with their vehicle. They are helpless without us," he said, his frustration growing. "They won't stand a chance out there. I'm going back for them!"

 

Marius stopped the Chimera dead in its tracks. He gave the steering wheel a vicious punch.

 

"I've had enough of your insubordination, Space Wolf!" snapped the Sergeant.

 

"Here!" Marius pulled the lever to lower the vehicle's ramp. "You want to die? Go join them. No one is stopping you."

 

Hargund glared at the Ultramarine officer. His fellow battle brothers were all staring at him intently, observing what he would do next. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering if he should just stay silent and accept his orders. But something inside of him cried out in defiance. It refused to give in, so he refused to give in as well. He gritted his teeth, grabbed his bolter, and jumped out of the vehicle. He had seen enough of the Deathwatch now. He no longer cared.

 

"Better to die with them, then live with oath-breaking cowards." the Space Wolf spat, and turned his back on his brothers. He walked north.

 

Marius shrugged, but before the Chimera could move, he saw Su'Botai get up and jump out as well. The White Scar ran over to Hargund, who gave him a nod as the two continued their march north.

 

Marius grunted.

 

"Anyone else?" he asked, glaring at Quintus and Ryke.

 

Slowly, Ryke got up. The marine gave the chains around his wrists a yank to make sure they were on securely.

 

"An oath is an oath,” said the Black Templar before he, too, leapt out of the vehicle to join Hargund.

 

Only Quintus remained. Marius stared at him coldly. The 2nd Company Devastator felt uneasy, but he stood his ground.

 

"He's not wrong, Brother Sergeant." Quintus said. "We have to do what is right. I'm sorry."

 

And with that, the heavy-bolterman also leapt out of the vehicle.

 

The 1st Company Sergeant sat alone in his Chimera. He activated the engines and, for a moment, he considered his mission. It was their choice. He could still make the extraction point, and the mission would be successful. That was all that mattered, after all.

 

He cursed out loud, and turned the Chimera back. The former kill-team had walked for about twenty paces before the Chimera drove up to them. They stopped and Hargund greeted Sergeant Marius with a solemn nod.

 

"Glad to see you're joining us, Brother Sergeant," said the Space Wolf. His lips curled into a grin, revealing his fangs.

 

"You're all damned fools! Get in!" Marius spat.

 

The Kill-team mounted their transport. Marius turned to the White Scar.

 

"Su'Botai," he said, "Contact our pilot. Tell them to extract us from the new coordinates. Set them for where the refugee camp is."

 

As the team drove north, back in the direction from which they came, the skies grew dark red, lit by thousands of glowing orbs as spore-pods burned from their entry into the planet's atmosphere. The swarm was mobilizing.

 

 

---------

 

 

The finale is coming. I'll get that one written as soon as I can! Again, I hope you are all enjoying the tale. :)

 

 

 

 

 

EDITED- For Spelling!

[captain fabian]

AMAZING. Very good story. You're very talented my friend.

[Wulfebane]

I don't usually enjoy fanfics, finding them very amateur and monotonous (not that I could do better), but aside from some extremely minor typos, this read is turning out better than about a third of the few Black Library I have managed to read, and being a film student, I don't read when I can help it. The characters are relatable and the settings are very compelling and exactly how I picture 40k environs. And unlike some bad writing I've experienced, I have yet to get lost in the details, not sure who is where, doing what, etc.

 

All in all, an amazing job thus far! My only hope is that the finale brings some action!

[-Volsung-]

I'm very happy to hear you guys like the story so far!

 

Seems I might have underestimated length. There will actually be two more parts, rather than one. A finale and a short epilogue, I guess.

 

I'll have the 4th part uploaded as soon as I can!

 

Thanks again for keeping up with the stories, y'all! :)

[-Volsung-]

Ah, finally, done with the 4th part! Enjoy, all!

 

A small Epilogue will follow this one.

 

 

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

 

"Extraction"

 

By: - V -

 

 

Hargund was surprised at how calmly the refugees took the news of their plight. He was expecting mass panic to conflagrate. Their failure to meet that prediction astounded him, and he found he respected these folks even more.

 

Upon entering the refugee camp a half hour past midnight, the Deathwatch kill-team woke everyone up from their slumber. The dazed and anxious civilians crowded around the Chimera as Marius stood on the vehicle's roof to address them.

 

"The Tyrannid Xenos are moving southwards," he told them. "They will be swarming this camp by morning."

 

There was a fearful muttering amongst the crowd. Confusion mingled with fright as the people talked among themselves.

 

"What should we do, then?" an old man asked.

 

"I have contacted our pilots to extract us from this very location, " answered the Ultramarine, his loud voice a beacon in the night, "We will protect your camp until we can evacuate you with our transports.

 

The muttering grew calmer, but there was still unrest.

 

"Will there be enough space on the ship for all of us?" another voice asked, this time coming from a younger woman, "My son. He is only two. You have to evacuate him. If there is not enough space, I will stay behind, but please let my son have a seat on the ship!"

 

So she was a mother, Hargund thought. He wondered if it was the same mother he had met the last time he was in the camp, but then realized she mentioned she had a son rather than a daughter.

 

"Nonsense!" another voice spoke from the crowd, this one an elderly woman. "If your son leaves on that transport, you're going with him. And pregnant mothers too! Mothers and children must have priority! If there is not enough space for them, I will stay back."

 

The crowd's worried voices grew again as they spoke amongst themselves. One or two in the crowd expressed their dissent, but the general consensus appeared to be that the civilians wanted mothers and their youths to be the first evacuated.

 

Hargund could not quite explain the feeling that overcame him, right then and there. The events of the last few days had made him see things he never wanted to, branded memories into his mind that he would forever remember, no matter how hard he tried to forget. Because of it, he found himself intensely disillusioned with mankind and its plight, but at this very moment, as he stood watching the civilians discussing their lot, listening to the voices of several volunteering to stay behind so that others could be guaranteed safe passage, Hargund found his hope rekindled. Perhaps they were worthy to live after all, he decided, and in that moment, the Space Wolf swore he would protect them, that none of them can die while he still drew breath.

 

The crowd's voices grew loud again.

 

"Silence." Marius boomed, and everyone was quiet. "Be still, citizens! There will be plenty of space on the ship. No one will have to stay behind."

 

"So what do we do, then?" a voiced asked once again.

 

Marius regarded the speaker with a nod.

 

"Follow my orders, and you will live. We have until dawn to fortify this position. I want barricades set around a protective defensive position. Do you have any weapons?"

 

At this point, a man made his way through the crowd and stood before Marius. It was the old veteran, the one that had loaned them the Chimera.

 

"I have a lasrifle and a hammer." the elderly guardsman spoke, holding his greasy cap in both hands. "If there is anyone here that can shoot it better than I can, they can have it. Or else, I'm taking it up and I'm using it to fight with."

 

Marius nodded.

 

"Then get it loaded and combat-ready, old man. You will be standing alongside us comes morning."

 

"Immediately, my lord!" the old veteran said as he placed his cap firmly on his head, then saluted.

 

"The rest of you," Marius spoke, his gaze scanning the faces in the crowd. "I want those too young or too feeble to fight to go and take refuge in the shacks. The rest of you, gather anything that can provide us with cover from the swarm. I want crates, tables, and barrels. Anything you can find, bring them here at once."

 

The Ultramarine Sergeant nodded.

 

"You may go."

 

 

The crowd proved surprisingly quick in carrying out their task. Likely they were spurred by the imminent threat of certain doom at the hands of monstrous xenos, and fear mixed with desperation formed a potent concoction that yielded a good sum of residual courage in the face of annihilation. It took them an hour, but the team quickly converted the campsite into a defensible position. The three sheds were stuffed to capacity with refugees, while the tents were drawn closer to the zone of safety, behind the encircling walls of barricade they had erected. By two in the morning, they had their little makeshift fort established, and Hargund leaned down with his back against the sturdy frame of a steel table.

 

He sat cross-legged on the ground, and was carefully cleaning his bolter, when a familiar voice disturbed his concentration.

 

"Peekaboo!" the tiny voice shouted, then giggled. He frowned, knowing exactly who it was before he even had to look up to see. And he was right. It was that same little girl whom he found hiding playfully under an ammo box only the day before.

 

He grunted, and went back to cleaning his gun. The girl approached him and flopped down on the dirt next to him. He glanced at her and noticed she had imitated him and was sitting cross-legged, just as he was.

 

He sighed, stopping his activity as he turned to look down at her. He stared at her.

 

For a good minute, she only stared back. Then, she grimaced, raising both her tiny arms and twisting her little fingers into the shapes of claws.

 

"Grrrrrrr!" she roared. It sounded more like a squeak.

 

"You're not so tough..." she said to Hargund and roared again: "Grrrrrrr!"

 

Hargund couldn't help himself this time. He had to laugh. The Space Wolf had half a mind to roar right back, but he knew he would probably terrify the other refugees and likely send the little girl off crying.

 

"What's your name?" the little girl asked. Or rather, demanded.

 

"Hargund," the Space Wolf answered. "And what's yours, whelp?"

 

"Kiwi!" she exclaimed, and giggled.

 

"Your name is Kiwi?" Hargund asked. "What the hell kinda name is Kiwi?"

 

Kiwi only giggled louder.

 

"How old are you, Kiwi?" the Space Wolf asked absentmindedly as he began reassembling his gun.

 

The little girl counted on her left hand, and then held up four fingers. She grinned. Some of her teeth hadn't even grown yet.

 

"Four?" Hargund said with mocked surprised, "You know how old I am, little whelp?"

 

"A hundred!" Kiwi said with a big grin, extending her arms far apart as if the distance between her hands corresponded to the length of years. Hargund laughed to himself, wondering if she realized how close her guess was to the truth.

 

"Kiana, are you bothering the poor gentleman again?" a woman's voice spoke.

 

Hargund looked up to see the girl's mother approaching. He recognized her from before.

 

"I am sorry again, my lord." the mother said, sitting down next to Kiwi and brushing her daughter’s hair. "She gets so restless and has so much energy with each passing year. I don't where she stores it! Emperor knows I could use some of it, hah!"

 

Hargund only nodded. In the near distance, he saw his battle-brothers sitting around a flaming barrel, talking and drinking. The old veteran was with them as well, and was sharing his stories. It was a warrior's fire. He made up his mind to go join them once the mom and her daughter left.

 

"What are you?" Kiwi asked suddenly, standing up closer to Hargund. She was poking the ceramite rim of his shoulder pad.

 

"I'm a Space Marine," Hargund answered.

 

"Can I be a Space Marine too?" she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

 

"No," responded the Space Wolf.

 

"Awwww. Why not?" Kiwi questioned. She was pouting. She seemed genuinely sad.

 

"I don't know." Hargund answered more truthfully than he imagined. "You don't see many girls recruited. In fact, you don't see any at all. And not many boys can be Space Marines either. Can't imagine why you would want to become one, though. Not a very fun life, I think."

 

Kiwi was very smart for her age, but even most of that flew over her head. The mother sighed. She looked at the Space Wolf and gave him a tired smile.

 

"Thank you for helping us, my lord," the woman said before turning to her daughter, "Come Kiana. It's past your bedtime. Wish the gentleman a good night now."

 

"Ok, mummy," Kiwi answered as she took her mother's hand. The little child turned to Hargund.

 

"Good night, Space Marine!" said Kiwi.

 

"Good night, Kiwi," answered the marine.

 

As they left, Hargund stood up and walked over to join his battle-brothers. A gourd of fermented alcoholic milk was being passed around. He was surprised Su'Botai had any left.

 

Tonight, the circle was more inclusive. Marius was sitting with them, as was the old veteran guardsman. Even thought the latter was not Adeptus Astartes, he was nevertheless telling them tales of his own war experience, and the marines showed him respect for it. A mere mortal living to the age of seventy or more after a lifetime of warfare was indeed a commendable feat.

 

And tonight, even Ryke was included. He was silent and praying over his weapons, which were, as usual, laid out in front of him. But this time, his back wasn't to the team, and he was part of the circle sitting around the fire. Su'Botai turned to the Black Templar.

 

"Would you like a drink, Brother Ryke?" the White Scar asked, holding up the gourd.

 

"No." the Black Templar responded.

 

Su'Botai shrugged. "Well, alright then. But don't say I never ask."

 

Quintus chuckled, as did Hargund as the gourd was passed to him. The Space Wolf took the vessel and drank a mighty gulp. The White Scar began looking around, as he usually did, and with a sly grin, Su'Botai leaned his face closer to the fire as he stared at Sergeant Marius.

 

"So, Sergeant..." Su'Botai began. "I've heard much of your planet Macragge. Tell me, Brother. What was your homeworld like?"

 

 

*****

 

 

When the sun rose that morning, it was the color of golden fire. The skies were blue with hints of wispy white clouds, for the spore pods had all landed. In the northern distance, a dust cloud grew from the surface, drifting into the skies. As the refugees woke up, they hurried into their sheds, expecting an attack at any minute. Their fears were exaggerated, but, in light of the reality of the situation, it was only by a little.

 

Marius stood on the roof of one of the shed with Quintus, who had set up a gunner's nest using a stack of derelict barrels. When Hargund approached the shed, Marius called down to him.

 

"Space Wolf! Take up position with Ryke. Su'Botai has the rear covered," the sergeant dictated.

 

Hargund nodded.

 

"How are our enemies looking?" the Space Wolf asked.

 

"They're closing down on us very quickly." Marius answered. "They should be here within the hour."

 

"How many of them?" Hargund continued.

 

"A lot." Marius replied.

 

"And when is our evac coming?" Hargund persisted.

 

"Soon." The Ultramarine answered, and Hargund chuckled. Damn, he thought.

 

The Black Templar was adjusting the sight of his boltgun when Hargund took up his position. Ryke gave him a nod as greeting, and nothing more, and the Space Wolf chose to settle on a spot where he could easily duck down and still have cover. Su'Botai was on the other side, propping up a makeshift desk to provide a better angle of enfilade.

 

Hargund knelt down to a crouch. That was when he heard the rumbling. He wasn't sure what it was at the moment, for at first it began like a buzzing in the air. Then it grew, like the sound of shifting sands, growing in volume until it sounded more like a sea of rocks tumbling down a hillside. Eventually, it became the low growl of an avalanche, threatening to swallow a mountain. He and Ryke exchanged looks. They turned to the horizon in unison and saw the advancing tide of black in the distance.

 

It was a sea of carapace, a swarm of Tyrannid monsters charging towards their little camp. Hargund fought down the feeling of despair with a lifetime of experience. It barely worked.

 

"Brothers!" Marius's call boomed like a horn of war. "Make ready!"

 

All of the marines shouldered their weapon, cocking back hammers to chamber rounds into their firearms. The old veteran guardsman adjusted a scope on his lasrifle. He was positioned on the roof of one of the sheds, right next to Quintus. The old man was smoking a bent cigarette. His hand was shaking as he took the stick from his mouth. Hargund didn't know whether it was from fear or old age, and figured it probably did not matter at this point.

 

Brother Quintus slammed the loading mechanism back on his Heavy Bolter and aimed it at the horizon.

 

"Here they come!" Marius shouted.

 

The first wave to hit their defenses was a dozen strong, the creatures smashing into them at their strongest point. Because the enemies had not yet surrounded the camp, Su'Botai shifted his position to stand by Marius, and opened fire as he spotted the first Hormagaunt leaping into range. The creature went down, its head splattered. Another one kicked off of its comrade's fallen body and was snatched in mid-air by a pistol shot from Sergeant Marius.

 

The veteran Ultramarine drew his power sword. The blade hummed, its force field crackling with energy as it rose in the air to point at the incoming tide of xenos.

 

The Deathwatch marines opened up in unison. Lethal tracers lit the early morning air as it scythed down xeno after xeno. Yet, for those that died, more took their place in the charge, and soon the enemy lines drew ever closer. The Tyrannids were pushing forward quicker than the marines had anticipated, and now, they noticed, the intelligent Hive Mind was planning a pincer maneuver with its drones.

 

Marius turned to Ryke and Hargund.

 

"You two," the Sergeant called to them, "I want a base of fire in this direction!"

 

He pointed with his entire hand, and they complied, gunning down a pack of Termagaunt that tried to circumvent their field of suppression. The Tyrannids were returning fire. Barbed and bony harpoons smacked into the wooden parts of the barricades with lethal thunks. Where it hit metal, it bounced off and left horrible dents. Hargund noticed Su'Botai duck as a flight of flesh-boring beetles flew over his head, landing in a squirming, helpless pile on the dirt. He crushed them with a stomp of his boot.

 

Marius was blazing away at the enemies with his bolt pistol. Another Hormagaunt leapt the barricade, and the Sergeant sliced the creature in half with a mighty chop of his sword.

 

"Quintus!" he called out. "Brother Quintus!"

 

"Sergeant!" Quintus shouted his acknowledgement, his Heavy Bolter pumping shells rhythmically, splattering xenos left and right.

 

"Quintus! Shift your fire 30 degrees to your left!" Marius shouted. "Overwatch!"

 

"Overwatch, aye!" Quintus responded, hefting his heavy weapon and rotating. Then, the rhythmic blasts returned, followed by the screech of dying Tyrannids as they found themselves pouring into the Devastator's killzone.

 

Hargund stood and fired another volley at the incoming enemies. There seemed no end to them. A clawed Hormagaunt charged him as he was reloading, and as it leapt, Hargund watched speechlessly as a beam of red laser nailed the creature in the left eye, penetrating its skull. Its corpse fell in a roll, stopping in front of the Space Wolf, who had just finished cocking the hammer back on his boltgun.

 

Hargund looked up at the shed and saw the old veteran give him a salute before the shouldered his lasrifle in search of another target. Not a bad shot at all, Hargund thought. He had been surprised this man could even pick up the rifle, much less pull off a shot like that.

 

Hargund didn't delve too long on the subject. Instead, he shifted his position and ran to where Su'Botai was crouching.

 

"How does it look on this end?" the Wolf asked. A bio-harpoon thunked into the wooden, side-facing desktop next to the White Scar's head.

 

"Completely manageable, laowai." the White Scar responded, lifting his head up to take a snap shop at his enemy. Hargund did the same, and killed a Termagaunt leaping from cover to cover. They both ducked as another salvo of hooked flesh-darts suppressed them.

 

"Go check the west flank." Hargund ordered, "I'll hold this area."

 

Su'Botai nodded and made a crouched run to the west. Hargund stood back up and fired several shots into a charging Tyrannid Warrior. The large creature was hit in the leg and faltered. Hargund chucked a grenade at it and ducked in time to feel the explosion vibrate against the barricade, scattering dirt and chunks of ichor over the makeshift wall.

 

How long had they been fighting for? Hargund wondered in the back of his mind, shouldering his bolter and firing another burst at the enemy. It felt like hours, but probably only minutes had flown by. The corpses of dead Tyrannids littered the ground before them by the dozens.

 

Then, there was a shout, and Hargund turned to look back.

 

Quintus was waving madly from the roof.

 

"Carnifex!" the Ultramarine shouted. "We've got a Carnifex incoming!"

 

Hargund cursed under his breath. He had seen these creatures take out entire squads of marine in the past. With a devil's speed, he hurried to Quintus's position in time to see the giant creature bellowing at the barricade, about fifteen meters away from them. Hargund emptied his magazine into the creature before the gun clicked dry, and he realized he had no more ammo left. He looked at Quintus and, as the two exchanged glances, Quintus nodded in understanding.

 

Hargund holstered his boltgun and reached for the knives sheathed at his back. Quintus, in turn, leapt from the roof and was running in the other direction from the beast. He stood his ground, even as Marius called for him to return to his position. But the Devastator ignored the orders. Instead, he aimed his heavy weapon and opened up on the Carnifex, blowing huge chunks out of the creature's flesh.

 

At the same time, Hargund drew his two knifes and flipped them, holding them with the hand guards against his pinkie fingers. In that moment, the feeling came suddenly. It all took the span of seconds, but Hargund remembered how it began in his stomach, like a heavy aching weight pushing upwards. Then, his muscles tingled then flexed, and the hairs of his body stood on end as the adrenaline pumped and the feeling grew in ferocity. The sensation crept up to his throat, and he arched his neck back, opening his mouth so that the gleaming rows of his fanged teeth shone in the sunlight. The howl that came from the Space Wolf's throat rattled corrugated steel boards, vibrated the wood panels nailed hastily to the walls. When the ululation came to an end, Hargund roared at the top of his lungs:

 

"FENRYS HJøLDA!"

 

Then he charged the Carnifex, armed only with his twin set of knives. The Carnifex roared and stomped closer to Quintus, ignoring Hargund, who was busy cutting a path through a pair of Hormagaunts standing in his way. As it neared the Ultramarine Devastator, the huge Tyrannid monstrosity reached down and snatched Quintus in a huge claw, hosting the struggling marine into the air.

 

At that point, Hargund had finished off his opponents and was leaping onto the Carnifex's leg. Using his knives like climbing picks, he stabbed the creature repeatedly as he climbed onto its back, then onto its head.

 

"Kill it!" Quintus was screaming, "Kill it! Kill it!"

 

The creature clenched its clawed arm, and Quintus was ripped in two. The two halves of the Ultramarine landed in the dirt. Watching his comrade fall, Hargund gave another, grief-stricken howl before he stabbed the creature in the right eye. He plunged the knife deep, and clung on for dear life as the Carnifex twisted violently, its screech betraying the pain it felt. Reaching for his belt, Hargund grabbed his last grenade, and priming it, he shoved the explosive into the ruins of the creature's right eye socket. He leapt free, and spun in mid air to see the explosion blow a chunk out of the Carnifex's cranium. Hargund landed badly. His backpack unit shattered from the impact, and his head was whipped violently forward, nearly snapping his neck. He felt blood trickle down from his nose, but fought the dizziness and stood back up. Something wet was flowing down his left temple and he realized that he had cracked his skull and was bleeding. But to his satisfaction, Hargund watched the mighty Carnifex falter; it took two steps then collapsed flat on the dirt, its last sound a hollow and pitiful wail.

 

Returning to his feet, Hargund ran to Quintus' severed body. He stepped over the Ultramarine's lower half and knelt down next to the torso. To the Space Wolf's amazement, Quintus was still alive.

 

The 2nd Company Ultramarine grabbed the Space Wolf's right arm with both of his hands, his grip clenching. Hargund stared into the broken lenses of the Mk.7 helmet and saw the Ultramarine's blue eyes staring back at him.

 

"Did we kill it?" Quintus demanded, his voice hoarse and fading quickly. "Did we kill the Carnifex?"

 

Hargund nodded.

 

"Yeah, we got him good, Brother."

 

The Space Wolf could tell Quintus was grinning behind the respirator unit of his helmet. Then, the Ultramarine's eyes closed, and his grip loosened. He was dead, and Hargund, refusing to leave his brother marine to the xenos, carried what was left of Quintus back to the safety of the barricade.

 

The situation behind the barricade had gotten worse. Ryke ran out of ammo and was using his wrist chains to strangle a Hormagaunt that had leapt the barrier. Hargund doubted the technique could effectively kill the creature until Ryke proved him wrong by giving the chain a mighty yank, severing the xeno's head from its neck.

 

Sergeant Marius had taken a hooked harpoon to the stomach. The barbed tip was protruding from his back, snagging entrails and innards in its trajectory, but still the veteran Ultramarine fought on.

 

Hargund scanned the perimeter and found Su'Botai slumped against the barricade. The White Scar's left hand was a bloody mess, for he had lost three of the five fingers to a flesh-dart. His left leg had taken a harpoon through the calf, which Hargund quickly pulled out, risking blood loss over envenoming. Su'Botai's right leg, Hargund noticed, was severed at the knee, and the White Scar sat clutching his weapon with his right hand, struggling to insert a new magazine into the receiver with his only working limb.

 

The Space Wolf crouched down next to him and helped the White Scar load the bolter. He took Su'Botai's last grenade and held it in the palm of his hand. The White Scar stared at him and managed a rueful smile.

 

"Damn it, laowai." said the White Scar marine, chuckling. "I would've liked to have seen Chogoris one last time."

 

Hargund grunted as he primed the grenade, tossing the explosive over the barricade.

 

Then the world blew up. It wasn't that strong of a grenade, the Space Wolf thought, as the entire area quaked under a series of explosion. Su'Botai looked equally surprised. Hargund lifted his head to see smoldering craters where a dozen Tyrannids had been standing, firing at them. He looked up and, there was the explanation.

 

Their Thunderhawk gunship was descending upon the area, its weapons firing in every direction, spitting fiery death at their enemies. As the craft neared the ground, it kicked up a torrent of dust, while its weapons continued their barrage. Twin-linked lascannons shot powerful beams of coruscating energy, ripping through the thickest of the Tyrannid ranks while the heavy bolter threw shots after heavy caliber shots at their targets. The assault ramp lowered as the craft touched down, and Marius struggled to his feet.

 

"Old man!" the Sergeant shouted to the veteran, who was still picking off Tyrannids with his lasrifle. Hargund was amazed the old geezer hadn't been shot yet.

 

"Old man, go inside and gather the refugees! Hurry!" Marius ordered, as he limped over to the body of Quintus and began dragging it to the evacuation vessel. From the safety of the shed, the refugee poured out onto the battlefield and ran for the Thunderhawk. Ryke was quick on the bounce, and had already carried the wounded Su'Botai into the craft, only to reappear with the White Scar's firearm. The Black Templar proceeded to lay down a withering hail of cover fire even as his own empty bolter hung dangling from his wrist.

 

The old veteran too had made it on board and was still sniping at the xenos before two of the refugees grabbed him and dragged him into the vessel. By the Allfather, Hargund thought. A shame he wasn't discovered as a child. The old man would have made one hell of a marine.

 

At that moment, from the safety of the shed, Hargund noticed Kiwi and her mother making a run for the Thunderhawk. Hot on their tails was a Hormagaunt, snarling and flailing its scythed arms as it hounded the mother and her daughter. The mother, too frail to carry her child in her arms and run at the same time, was holding her daughter's hand and running as fast as she could on her own two legs.

 

They had almost made it when little Kiwi tripped and fell onto the dirt. The mother had immediately turned around and was starting to run back for her child when Ryke snatched the woman up and carried her bodily into the vessel. The whole time, the woman was screaming.

 

"My daugther!" she kept yelling. "My daugther!"

 

Kiwi had managed to scramble back onto her feet, but, in frozen horror, the little girl found herself facing the snarling xeno creature charging at her. She began to cry, and she clenched her little fists and closed her eyes, as she would when she played hide and seek, hoping that in the darkness of her vision, the monster would not find her.

 

But children are smarter than adults give them credit for, and in that moment, the little girl knew that her attempts to hide in plain sight would be futile, and despair filled her heart.

 

Kiwi clenched her eyelids shut, refusing to open them. She was sobbing.

 

The Hormagaunt's claw descended.

 

There was the sound like a knife slicing through flesh.

 

It was followed by the wet flop of innards spilling onto the dirt, then by the thud of a body hitting the ground.

 

The little girl opened her eyes.

 

Through misty tears, Kiwi found herself looking up at the massive shape of Hargund standing over her, his gigantic silhouette eclipsing the sun. The Hormagaunt lay squirming at the Astartes's feet, while both of the marine's armored fists clutched bloodied, dripping knives.

 

The child, realizing she was unharmed, locked eyes with the Space Wolf, who returned her stare with a fanged grin. It was the first time she saw him smile. Hargund turned his gaze back down to the xeno writhing at his feet. He glared at the wounded creature, his wolfish eyes glinting with savage delight.

 

"Peekaboo..." Hargund snarled, lifting up his right boot, "Mother- :lol: -er."

 

He brought the boot down, crushing the creature's snarling head to mushy pulp with a single stomp.

 

The pelt-clad marine threw his left-hand knife into the dirt and, with the now-freed hand, he swooped the little girl up in a tight grasp. Kiwi automatically flung her tiny arms around his neck. They were too small, but she hung on as best she could, pressing her face tightly against the ceramite plating of his chest armor. Hargund held her tight as he dashed back to the Thunderhawk, tracers and bolter rounds flying all around him as his surviving battle-brothers gave him covering fire.

 

When he was safely inside the transport, the assault ramp began to close. He felt the ground shake and the feeling of his stomach dropping signaled that they were taking off.

 

Hargund looked down at the objective he carried in his arms, safe and sound. Kiwi stared back at him, wiping tears from her eyes. As Hargund was about to hand her to her mother, little Kiwi leaned up and kissed him on his nose.

 

"You're my hero, Space Marine," said Kiwi.

 

At that moment, Hargund Steelfang's heart swelled with pride. Both of his hearts. The compliment made his day, and with a mighty grin, the Space Wolf ruffled the little girl's hair, who giggled in return, before he handed her back to her mother. The woman, taking the child in her arms, showered her daughter with kisses as she thanked him profusely for saving her little girl's life. Hargund accepted her gratitude with a smile and a nod.

 

Moving over to his comrades, Hargund took a seat next to Su'Botai, whose wounds were being tended to by a Chirurgeon. He turned to the White Scar, and laughing, he asked.

 

"You still have more of that drink?"

 

The two marines laughed. But as Hargund turned to face Marius, the smile on his face slowly faded, the joy in his heart abating as well. Marius was on his knees, kneeling next to the body of his brother, Quintus. Despite his wounds, the Sergeant shoved the medical servitor away, before lowering his head in silent grief.

 

The Thunderhawk roared through blue, sun-lit skies and emitted a sonic boom as it pierced the sound barrier, taking the kill-team and the refugees into the safety of the Void.

 

 

 

 

 

 

EDITED- For Spelling and Grammar.

[-Volsung-]

And here's the epilogue. Enjoy, brothers!

 

 

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

 

"Epilogue: Homebound"

 

By: - V -

 

 

Having breached the atmospheric barrier, the Deathwatch Thunderhawk skimmed through the star-lit darkness of space to dock with the Kill-team's commandeered frigate. The ship's captain had received orders to stay well within the safety zone provided by the Imperial Fleet. From the viewports on the Astartes transport, the refugees watched in silence as the ravaging Tyrannids consumed their beloved homeworld.

 

They entered the Immaterium within the hour, and by morning of the next day, the frigate exited Warp space near the primary jump point of the Tantalus System. A refueling station in orbit to the capital planet of Tantalus Secundus was the last destination of their mission.

 

The station itself seemed unaccustomed to the extremely busy traffic that it suddenly found itself dealing with. Every five minutes, a vessel was either docking with or leaving the installation, and onboard, what would have been the dim candle-lit halls of an Adeptus Mechanicus facility was now brightly illuminated by thousands of extra, generator-powered lighting fixtures. The once-winding and cavernously empty halls bustled with the influx of refugees, wounded soldiers, merchants, laborers, servitors, and armed levies, a sea of human bodies going about their tasks.

 

Immediately upon landing, Marius, who had finally relented and allowed his wounds to be patched up, took it upon himself to personally deliver the research data and the insidious gene-seed the team had recovered, to the Inquisitorial contact waiting onboard. The agent of the Ordo Xenos, who had identified himself only by a coded phrase, took the items, and giving them only a simple nod of respect for their hard work, immediately left the station with the precious cargo. No one, neither the marines nor their contact, asked questions, nor gave answers. The mission was over; they had done their jobs, and the entire operation was taken to the next level in the chain of command. Out of their hands, out of their minds.

 

Hargund didn't bother seeking answers; he no longer cared for their task. Instead, he had spent the time onboard the refueling station making inquiries as to the fate of the refugees. As soon as they had landed, Administratum agents had given both the refugees and the kill-team thorough and, at times, invasive tests to ensure they had not been tainted. Hargund was used to it, but he could only imagine what the refugees felt, having survived the invasion of their homeworld only to submit to further pains and scrutiny before they were allowed sanctuary.

 

Nevertheless, they all passed, for no signs of warp or xeno taints had been detected amongst them. The men, women, and children were herded to a waiting area, where they received instructions to board a freighter ferrying supply cargos and wounded soldiers down to the planetary surface of Tantalus Secundus. Upon questioning the freighter captain, Hargund learned that the Planetary Governor of Tantalus, who boasted a reputation of being a noble if somewhat prideful and ambitious leader, had ordered the gates of his homeworld opened to give shelter to the countless displaced refugees flooding into his system. Entire hive districts had been hastily renovated with barracks, nutritional dispensaries and medical clinics to ensure the refugees would have a place stay for the duration of the conflict. All in all, Hargund felt satisfied by the comforting knowledge that the lives he had sworn to protect were now in good hands.

 

As he left to rejoin his killteam, Hargund looked back at the cargo freighter, and watched as the refugees boarded, taking their place alongside steel crates and wounded Imperial Guardsmen, all waiting to be taken planetside. The massive boarding ramp had begun retracting when, suddenly, the Space Wolf spotted the young mother and her daugther Kiwi, standing amongst their people. The little girl, still holding her mother's hand, was looking around, as if searching for someone amongst the sea of human faces. Finally, she found what she was looking for, and Hargund realized she was staring directly at him. Even from a distance, he saw the smile on her face, and the child began waving at him, jumping up and down as if to make sure he saw her. Little Kiwi was waving him goodbye. This time, Hargund waved back.

 

*****

 

There was no debriefing. No congratulations in order. The Kill-team had been recruited, organized, left on stand-by to train while waiting for an assignment, then sent on their perilous mission with minimal support. Now that they had completed their task, their hard work was paid for by a simple message from the Inquisitor telling them their mission package had been received and their service was no longer required. Their oaths were completed; they had leave to go and do as they pleased.

 

Hargund took the earliest opportunity to seek out the station's Astropaths, who assisted him by sending word back to Fenris of his current status. He received his reply within days: a Fenrisian destroyer was the nearest Space Wolf warship scheduled to return to the homeworld. It will diverge from its original course and make a stop in the Tantalus system to refuel, whereupon Hargund could hitch a ride with it back home.

 

The day the Space Wolf warship arrived; Hargund found his kill-team had lined up and were waiting for him in the hangar bay as the Space Wolf Thunderhawk landed. They were going to give him a proper send off, the Wolf realized.

 

The first in line was Ryke, who nodded at Hargund. Without his helmet on, the Black Templar looked even more unapproachable, his shaven head and solemn face imprinted with an almost-permanent expression of silent decorum. At this point, it didn't bother Hargund anymore. They fought alongside each other, and the experience had forged a strong bond of brotherhood.

 

"Are you returning to your Chapter, Ryke?" asked Hargund.

 

The Black Templar shook his head.

 

"No, Brother. I have requested the Inquisitor to renew my oath with the Death Watch," answered Ryke.

 

"So you're not returning home anytime soon, then, I presume," said Hargund.

 

"Negative, Brother," was Ryke's reply, "My penance is not yet complete. I shall remain here, unless the crusade Marshall personally mandates my return. My sentence has not yet been served to its fullest."

 

At that moment, the Space Wolf nodded in comprehension. Ryke had been on a penance crusade, no doubt serving with the Ordo Xenos to make up for some past sins he committed against his Chapter. Hargund found himself wondering how the pious Templar could possibly have transgressed. Perhaps he had omitted a line from his morning prayers, Hargund joked to himself.

 

Nevertheless, the Space Wolf extended his hand, and the Black Templar shook it.

 

"May the Emperor protect you, Brother Wolf," Ryke said, true sincerity in his voice.

 

Next was Su'Botai. He didn't look that bad off, considering the injuries he had sustained. A new, ceramite bionic leg replaced the limb that he had lost, and Hargund noticed the White Scar had opted to have his left hand severed as well, swapping it with a steel-skeleton, bionic replacement. Su'Botai, as usual, was stroking his mustache and his beard as Hargund approached him.

 

"Off you go, huh, laowai?" said the White Scar. Hargund nodded.

 

"What about you?" inquired the Wolf, "Are you going back to Mundus Planus?"

 

"To Chogoris? Of course, brother," Su'Botai replied, the eagerness in the White Scar's voice betraying his excitement, "Unfortunately, our ships are far from this sector. I shall be accompanying the trade caravans from this system for a good month before we can make contact with my people's fleet. I will have to wait longer until I can finally reach my home, but the journey will be worth it, no doubt. Wait a moment, for I have something for you, Brother."

 

The White Scar reached behind his backpack unit and retrieved a gourd, which he handed to Hargund. The Space Wolf was surprised.

 

"You've been holding on out on me, you greedy bastard!" Hargund accused, laughing.

 

"Yes," replied Su'Botai, smiling, "I guess I was. Take it. For the journey home. It's the last one, but, I figure I can find some appropriate libation amongst the merchants and the traders."

 

Hargund accepted the gift, and, wondering for a moment if he should give something in return, the Space Wolf proceeded to unhook the wolf skin hanging from his armor, offering the pelt to the White Scar.

 

Su'Botai seemed surprised.

 

"Brother Wolf, that is too valuable of an item to be trading for a simple gourd of mare's milk," replied the White Scar.

 

"It's not a trade. I'm giving it to you as a gift, Scar," Hargund said. He offered the pelt again, and the White Scar took it.

 

"I shall cherish your gift. Thank you, Brother Hargund."

 

The two marines grinned at each other, and they clasped hands proudly. Su'Botai had been the closest thing Hargund had to a brother for the seven months he had spent away from Fenris.

 

"Goodbye, Brother Su'Botai," Hargund said in farewell.

 

"May we meet again, Space Wolf," replied the White Scar.

 

A good distance away, Veteran Sergeant Marius was standing with his hands clasped behind his back. Hargund nodded at him.

 

"Sergeant Marius," said the Wolf.

 

"Brother Hargund," replied the Ultramarine.

 

An awkward silence followed. Hargund broke it hurriedly.

 

"Will you be returning home as well, Brother Sergeant?"

 

Marius shrugged.

 

"Yes and no," was the reply, "I will be returning to the Ultramar systems, but more likely than not, it will only be a temporary leave of absence before I return to the Ordo Xenos."

 

Hargund understood.

 

There was another awkward silence.

 

"What of Quintus?" Hargund asked grimly.

 

Marius's face betrayed no emotions, despite the grief in the Ultramarine's heart. Hargund could tell, for he too lamented the loss of his friend.

 

"That is the reason I am taking my leave of absence," Marius answered, "I am returning his body home."

 

"To Macragge?"

 

"No. It is indeed... unorthodox," here Margund noticed the hesitation in the Ultramarine's voice, "But I have convinced the Inquisitor in charge of our mission to vouch for Quintus to have him buried on his homeworld of Lax, in the city of First Landing. I am sure Lord Macragge will understand. If he does not... well... then I will have to find other means."

 

Was that defiance in the Ultramarine's voice? Hargund was pleased. This strangely maverick attitude was something new and unexpected from the 1st Company Sergeant.

 

"I never liked you, Hargund." Marius said suddenly. Hargund was surprised, not by the choice of words but by the audacity of it. It made him respect the Ultramarine even more.

 

"Well," Hargund began, "the feeling is rather mutual, Sergeant."

 

Marius nodded. He extended his hand to the Space Wolf.

 

"I speak no lies, however," Marius added, "when I say that it has been an honor to have led you in combat. You are a brave and capable soldier, Space Wolf. It's been a privilege."

 

Hargund shook the Ultramarine's hand.

 

"And it has been an honor serving under your command, Sergeant. Take care of yourself, Brother."

 

Marius released his handshake to salute the Space Wolf.

 

"Ave imperator, Hargund Steelfang."

 

Hargund returned the salute. Turning on his heel, the Space Wolf resumed his walk. When he neared the Fenrisian Thunderhawk, Hargund noticed the company markings of the twin-headed wolf, the sigil of Wolf Lord Erik Morkai. As the vessel took off with Hargund onboard, the former Deathwatch marine sat staring out of the viewport at the receding shape of the Mechanicus space station.

 

The journey home was finally at hand. All around him, he smelled the comforting and homely scent of Fenris, clinging to the interior of the vessel. A pair of Morkai’s Grey Hunters were drinking in the corner, while a trio of Blood Claws busied themselves with stacking crates of ammunition. He did not recognize these marines, for Hargund was one of Blackmane's men, but they were Fenrisians and seeing them brought back memories of home. To be amongst his kinsmen once again brought much comfort to Hargund's weary soul. He leaned back and took in a deep, soothing breath of air.

 

The Thunderhawk ferried its passengers to the Morkai destroyer. The ship made Warp jump at the edge of the Tantalus system, and Hargund, finally, was on his way home.

 

 

 

---------

 

The End.

 

Phew... what a fun story to write. I hope you guys had as much fun reading it as I had writing it! :sick:

 

 

 

 

 

EDITED- For Spelling and Grammar, haha

[Arthanor]

Great work! I had omitted to come back here for a little while and I quite enjoyed reading everything you added since last time. This means a lot as fanfic can often be quite tedious whereas I had no issue reading yours.

 

It is definitely a Space Wolf story (a carnifex, eh? :sick:) but it is also a good space marine story. I thought you were about to kill Kiwi just to make a point about your story being grimdark and I commend you for not doing so. A good story does not need heavy handed references and yours rightly stays away from them. A well done heroic tale. I am looking forward to the conclusion.

[Night Runner]

Read and enjoyed! :D

 

You should post this in the fanfic section of the B&C as well.

 

NR

[Wulfebane]

At the end of the third entry, I think you portrayed the perceived compassion for humanity of the four chapters beautifully. Seeing as how Wolves and Salamanders are widely believed to be the more defensive of humanity for humanity's sake, rather than just saving lives, I found it knitted together very well with the brusqueness of the UMs' views toward the mission first and foremost, as well as the BT's value in oaths more than the refugees. I've not read much regarding White Scars, but have often heard them compared to Wolves in clan values. Combined with Su'Botai's personality over the whole story, I think it matched his choices well, regardless of how he views humanity.

 

Again, loved it.

[captain fabian]

A really nice story. Nice structure, plot, characters and without a cheesy end. Really nice. Thank you for sharing this with us.

[Wulfkry]

great story brother. it has kept me entertained her at my office for two days a mighty saga indeed. Oja vay Russ!!.