Pulchra animus et eversor

[Messor]

http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b257/alienbastard89/Warhammer/PAeECover.png

At the same time the lighting systems failed, the firefight escalated, illuminating the corridors with the flashes of autogun and lasgun fire. The dim, stuttering light was punctuated by the brighter flash of plasma blasts and bolt explosions; whoever was returning fire was doing so with superior arms. Electrical fires gave flickering life to the corridors where the fighting had ended, or moved on, illuminating the upturned and grimacing faces of the fallen. The barge shuddered under another exterior barrage, its plates and its men groaning beneath the punishment. The ship was lost.

From the black recesses of a ceiling vent a quartet of glowing red optics kindled to life, looking into the corridor below. A lithe form, feminine but otherwise indiscernible in the dark, dropped with trained silence onto the floor. The sounds of the battle were not far off, and as the figure edged cautiously to a corridor crossing, it cocked its head to listen.

"Arrrgh!"

"Cover fire, someone pick that shield up before we're broken completely," A defender, then, rallying the ship's crew, "If we don't give them enough time, it's all for noth---"

Another voice, volume enhanced by a vox amp, cut through the rallying call, "It's over, heretics! Surrender and you may yet be redeemed!" At that, the volume of fire from the defenders appeared to redouble. There were no doubts as to what 'redemption' meant. Still the voice demanded acknowledgment, "Then die as the Emperor's enemies, and we will take them anyway!"

Like a shadow, the red eyed figure flitted across the opening, pausing only a moment more to listen, but the two forces had resigned themselves to the fury of combat, and the only thing to hear were incoherent shouts and the grunt of life being extinguished by each true shot. A plasma bolt cleared the melee, traveling the length of the hall and flashing before the figure's face, leaving a scorch mark on the bulkhead as it struck. The flash revealed a full body suit of mostly white, with a few black panels, and the four glowing optics organized one each above and below where the eyes ought to be. The illumination was only momentary, as the plasma flash prompted the figure to turn and sprint into the darkness of the hall.

The sounds of weapon fire faded as she ran, making one turn, then another, the sounds of battle replaced by the rasp of air recycling through her breathing unit, perfectly regular, timed with her every move. The barge shuddered again, more violently, and the ship listed slightly. Already at a turn, she compensated, footfalls finding purchase on the wall instead of the floor. She righted herself with the ship and went on without breaking pace. The floor panels shuddered again, but not from an external blow, and she stopped, straining to hear any sign of an approach. A security bulkhead somewhere between her and the fighting had been breached. After a moment, two rasped breaths, she took off again. Turning one more corner, a dim flashing red light ahead told her she had reached her destination. Too late, though. She could hear shouting now, on the otherwise of the wall beside her, and ran faster.

"You'll never find her! They're gone, both of them!"

And then that same vox-cast voice that made her blood boil, "You reveal too much. I'm close, aren't I?"

She heard the thud, a body striking a wall, between her and the room, and then the wall set aglow for a second before exploding into the corridor in her path. She knew it was coming, and training cut off any instinct to scream or gasp. Instead she flung herself through the smoke and fire like a bolt. As if time had slowed, she saw a light blossom in the heart of the smokey opening, and could only hope to be through before the plasma found her in its path. She felt the heat, but no pain came, and she landed safely only meters from the room she'd come all this way to get to. The cruel voice echoed through the smoke, accompanied by hastening, but heavy footsteps, "Ah, and there you are. Almost too easy!"

Optics flaring as she glanced over her shoulder, she saw first the boots, then the broad brim of the hat, the seal of the Inquisition breaking the smoke. There was the glow of a plasma pistol from one side, and at the sight of the flickering muzzle of an inferno pistol, she turned her attention back to the escape. In two bounds she passed below the flashing red glow and into the embrace of the shadows within. The Inquisitor pounded after, diving without hesitation into the darkness, only to be greeted by a metallic roar and the terrifyingly close whirring of a massive mechanical limb. A fraction of a second slower and the Inquisitor would have lost his head. As it was his hat disappeared beneath the giant’s swipe and the powered fist punched through the wall as the Inquisitor ducked beneath it and made to level the inferno pistol.

Finally this elicited a response from his prey, as with a snarl the female dropped from the shadows above, slashing at his midriff with a glowing orange blade. The Inquisitor was forced to roll back towards the doorway. With speed belying its size, the owner of the powered fist wrenched it from the wall, circling with thunderous footsteps deeper into the room and leaving an electrical fire to spring to light behind it. The Inquisitor slowly rose, staring down the two forms before him in the new, flickering glow. Towering above him was a Dreadnought, one of its arms missing- not damaged, but removed. The ancient shell was white, while the sarcophagus in its center was yellow, along with a single stripe that rose from its center up over the hull, with identifying markings in black, most of which differed from standard Astartes patterns. Silently, the female dropped again from her vantage point above, landing astride the dreadnought, and staring unyieldingly back at the Inquisitor. His pale face was given stark contrasts by the fire light, and his crooked, self-satisfied smile was broken by a neat scar beginning below his chin and crossing the bridge of his nose, over his left brow and into dark hair, currently matted with sweat. At last he spoke, this time foregoing the vox amp.

"Both together, eh? The Emperor has truly smiled upon me. Look," he leveled both his weapons at the pair, then slowly lowered them to the deck, "we can help each other. No need for you both to perish here. If you aren't heretics, turn yourselves in, and I can protect you from the repercussions. You must know there is no way to escape, but I can spare you! The secrets that must lie in your minds," his eyes flashed hungrily as he looked at each of them, "I have laid down my weapons. As a token of good faith...why not tell me who sent you?"

The female raised her hand towards the Hereticus operative, as though about to strike, but a voice rumbled from the dreadnought, not loud, but firm,"No, Jacqueline."

Slowly, her hand lowered. The Inquisitor took this as license to continue, "Yes, very good, just come quietly. We want you ali--" She brandished a spherical object, no doubt explosive, and the Inquisitor's eyes widened. If it were possible, a smile could be heard in the dreadnought's voice.

"Now. Do it."

~~~[/intro]

So I've decided to try and piece this idea together, detailing the Cerberus Chapter's Operation Shingle . I enjoyed how this first bit came out, for being typed on the phone during the 20 hour drive to Utah. I'd love to get C&C, both on the story and the 'cover' I'm working up, if the artist permits me to use the subject piece I have in mind. Anyway, more to come before too long, I hope.

Edit: original cover art image by . Edited February 19, 2013 by Messor

[Messor]

"Now, do it!"

 

The magistrate hesitated, trembling hand causing the knife he held to dance uncontrollably. On the ground before him was sprawled a lithe form clad singly in black. The female was a little small to guess as a woman, but who can tell with assassins. She was barely conscious, and the magistrate thanked the Emperor again that he had even managed to subdue her. Still...she was hardly larger than a child, probably a teenager. Another loud exhortation from the lord-governor cut through the magistrates quandary, "Kill her before she recovers!" Starting, the magistrate barely registered that the previous not of worry had left the lord-governor's voice, replaced with something like amusement. The magistrate concerned himself with finally lunging at the collapsed assassin. Raising the knife high, he made to secure one of her arms as he brought it down...only to find he was suddenly wearing her as a scarf. A foot kicked the knife from his hand, as her other leg gripped his throat. With a backwards lurch she flipped the magistrate over, bringing him crashing down on his chest. Even as he struggled for breath he had no time to consider the pain, for in the next moment she flexed both legs, snapping his neck.

 

Following the final gurgle of the magistrate came a sigh of relief, though not from the assassin untangling herself from the corpse. The lord-governor stood by, smiling and unconcerned with the apparent threat. Instead, he leaned forward and offered a hand to the girl. Taking it, she got to her feet, the red eyed mask that gripped her head and body revealing nothing as she watched the governor. After a few moments staring placidly back, the old man laughed.

 

"Well done child. You had the magistrate truly deceived in those last moments. Letting him believed he could incapacitate you lowered his guard further than I might have imagined. It was no show, though, was it? You almost did slip into unconsciousness, though not from his clumsy blows. Hm, I suppose your first dose of polymorphine chose a fine time to integrate. That brings us to the final step of your training," With a rapid series of creaks and cracks, accompanied by stomach turning gurgles, the lord-governor shrank and slimmed, clothes falling limply from the new form. It was identical to the young assassin, only taller, "As your proctor, I'm the lucky one who gets to oversee your first polymorphine use," The black clad woman nodded a head at the limp form between them, "We still need a magistrate, one who will convict the governor, and resign following his execution. I will be assuming the magistrate from here on, as the Temple will need me to name their new pawn as governor. Until the trial, you'll be the governor," The Callidus proctor paused, "I don't know what the temple told you, but your simulations haven't prepared you for this. Let's get it over with."

 

The isolation of the Governor's chambers was fortunate, as the proctor reported that the screaming went on for hours.

 

~~6 years later~~

 

Inquistor Gestan stood over the display in the makeshift command center, the dark underbelly of the hive tearing itself apart with weapons fire no more than a hundred meters away. The gangs had escalated their warfare far in excess of the usual and the Arbites were losing the battle. Supposedly it was about to end, though. Word from on high was that the gang had a weakness: organization. They were a headless snake without their leader, ambition and civil war would clear them out faster than any effort by the Arbites. The problem was killing the man. Gestan had been over the approaches again and again, and though raw muscle was his usual approach he knew how to make a subtle approach when the situation called for it. Still, no matter what angle he examined it from, no team could break through to his hiding place. At the very moment he was considering the feasibility of bringing in armored support, the tent flap opened.

 

"Looking for this?" The smooth voice was punctuated by a wet thump as a bloody sack stained the tactical display. It was hardly necessary to look inside, so Gestan turned to face his guest. A black clad form, whip-like braid of hair trailing behind, surveyed him through menacingly shaped red lenses.

 

"Who thought necessary to bring the Temple into this?" He asked simply, eyebrows rising.

 

"Hm, there were obviously no Officio Assassinorum agents involved here, Inquisitor," she said, almost mockingly, and cocked her head at him, "Just your hard work, isn't that right? I imagine someone may have gotten involved if they thought you would try to request Astartes aid for this insignificant uprising," her voice became colder, and the Inquisitor's eyes darted to the data pad containing a drafted message to the nearby patrol fleet of the Raptors Chapter. It was only momentary, though, and he lifted his chin, examining the assassin anew. From outside he could begin to hear the combat dying as the coalition of gangs made their grim discovery. Some were probably surrendering on the spot, other already turning on each other.

 

"I take it you...already have a posting?"

 

The assassin shook her head, in disgust rather than in answer, and turned to leave, which prompted the Inquisitor to continue, "The Officio's agents are many, you must have languished, only to be called on for this, what was it? Insignificant uprising? Perhaps you begged for it," she paused with the tent flap held open, and Gestan went on, "I have contacts. Your skills would not be wasted in my retinue..." his inflection was asking for her to finish.

 

"Auriola," she let slip automatically, cringing even as she said it; a name was unnecessary leverage to give, and she knew that someday she would pay for it. Even for an assassin this man caused her skin to crawl. There was a slimy hunger in his voice, and even with her back to him she could feel him savoring the victory over her. He would better serve as a target than a master. With no further pause she dropped the flap behind her, and by the time Gestan opened it again she was gone.

 

"We will be in contact soon...Auriola."

 

~Outside the city~

 

"Virenus gives you a choice. Your superiors have already been notified of your transfer to Inquesitor Gestan's retinue. We need only inform the man himself. You need only help us to have the message withheld and the report rescinded. You may continue your servitude after one, small task," explained the voice on the other end of the communicator. In the darkness of the alleyway Auriola's frown was invisible, but she felt curiosity scratching at the back of her mind.

 

"What does the heretic want," she finally asked.

 

"Only that you serve the Emperor. There are rumors that a Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes traverses your subsector, renegades."

 

"Can the Astartes not purge their own heresies? The Raptors are less than..."

 

"No. It is better that this not come to the attention of others, least of all other Chapters. These renegades must be found, and their master slain...and his place taken."

 

Auriola resisted the instinct to gasp, but behind her mask her eyes had dilated in shock. "You would use me to take command of an entire Chapter of Astartes!" She could almost see the shrug as the voice on the other side went on.

 

"We would keep dangerous and elusive renegades from exacting an anti-Imperial agenda. You hand over the Chapter, and go on as though the mission never happened."

 

"What keeps Virenus from doing this herself."

 

"Hostile operatives have closed in on her. She can't risk the exposure. You, child, are simply a promising assassin, doing the Emperor's work."

 

"Doing a heretic's work."

 

"See it how you will. The coordinates have been sent to you. We both know what the Inquisitor's retinue means. We have just given you real purpose. The second set of coordinates are where our agents will meet you when the job is done."

 

"I haven't agre..."

 

"Of course you have. Fortune favor you...the Emperor protects."

 

The line fell into static and Auriola was left alone in the dankness of the alley with a choice.

 

~~~

I hope the change in time wasn't too confusing. If so, I'll make some changes.

Edited December 7, 2012 by Messor

[Brother Ambroz]

Pretty well written Messor. I think I'm starting to see where it all comes together but just in case I won't say till we get another update. :D

[Messor]

Well thanks much for reading it Tanith. Hopefully I can weave an intelligible mystery XD. And as luck would have it, I have an update!

 

~~~

 

What was the line of the Inquisition? Blessed be the mind too small for doubt? If only it were so simple. Auriola’s doubts had grown like choking vines this mission. To doubt the heretic was natural. Such were beyond doubt; they were damnably deviant from the Emperor’s Light. Yet in only a week pursuing this renegade Chapter, her doubts had spread elsewhere. She still hadn’t been able to identify the Chapter, no records matched their colors or heraldry, yet they were undeniably sanctioned. Their armor was white, and their heraldry was composed of a curious black rune on a yellow field, and they rarely removed their helmets in front of serfs, but nothing more unusual than that. Their equipment was in good condition, there were no signs of warp taint. The first two days hidden in the munitions storage had been tense, but finally a serf had come to collect an inventory. His body was now hidden in a crate that had held drum magazines for bolters, the easiest thing she could find to move. Now wearing the serf’s form, she had been through much of the Astartes ship, which had only reinforced her doubts about the Chapter’s allegiance. She had been on the bridge twice to hear the Commander of these marines forwarding the coordinates and whereabouts of Chaos cults to the nearby Raptors. If they were renegades, why aid the Imperials? If they wanted to aid the Imperium, why remain anonymous? Auriola hadn’t been able to determine the Chapter’s strength, as there appeared to be no communication with other forces. A ship’s worth of renegade Space Marines had formed warbands and established empires held for centuries, in multiple locations…but Virenus had seemed to think there was a whole Chapter of these nameless marines. What if they weren’t traitors and Virenus was playing the young assassin? If they were, she couldn’t hesitate to strike…but it wasn’t clear. The marines on the ship appeared to keep their own council, and while Auriola was entrusted with a fair few tasks in her serf disguise, there was never anything that revealed more about her target. It only became clear that it wasn’t the Commander of the ship when they emerged from the warp over an uninhabited planet several sectors away from where she’d boarded the ship. She had been on the bridge to hear the Commander speaking through the ship’s vox channel.

 

“Yes, it was truly fortunate that it came straight to us,” The Commander’s voice always sounded strangely layered through his helmet, “The Master will be relieved. I take it he is here?”

 

The crackled voice on the other end spoke too quickly for Auriola to hear its answer, and if she stayed she risked being ushered away, and falling under suspicion, and so she left the bridge. Still, in that first moment of open communication, Auriola realized that they had to have some kind of encrypted contact with the rest of the Chapter, a means to communicate that not even the serfs would know. Perhaps they weren’t as innocent as they appeared. She resolved then that she would complete Virenus’ mission. As if fate was signing its approval, the intercom crackled to life, signaling the ship’s falling into orbit around the planet, and calling for the Marines on board, as well as a number of serfs to prepare to descend to the surface. Unfortunately, the man Auriola was disguised as was not among those meant to leave. She almost failed to find a replacement, but after another silent kill she found herself with a place on one of the Thunderhawk transports that departed within the hour.

 

The planet would have been similar to ancient Terra, except that long ago something, likely war, had torn away much of its atmosphere. Where once there were oceans, there were now dry, cracked valleys and hills. Where the land had been there were still many forests, though they were all petrified and bare. Through the external monitor Auriola watched a large camp bathed in moonlight grow to meet them. There were at least a hundred marines, and twice as many serfs, though most of these appeared to be occupied…digging? Yes, the camp was some kind of dig site. Securing a breathing mask over her face as the ‘Hawk’s ramp descended, Auriola shuffled off the transport with the other serfs, seeking to blend in until she could disappear and find out if the Chapter Master was here. A tremble of the ground gave them all pause as an Astartes Dreadnought rounded a nearby scaffolding, and it, too, paused when it saw them. Though it was impossible to tell exactly what it saw, Auriola felt a chill in her spine, until she noticed five marines approaching the group, the Commander among them, armed with their bolters. One nodded towards them, and his voice carried over across what little air there was.

 

“That it?”

 

The Commander nodded, and the marines strode into the group. Auriola didn’t realize they were there for her until they were too close, and had gripped her in unbreakable ceramite fists before she could make so much as a move to escape. The Commander grunted in satisfaction, and led the squad and their prisoner away.

 

“What have I done?” Auriola tried, but the marines ignored the man they carried, and she realized it would do no good, sinking into silence. Less than a hundred meters outside the camp was Rhino command vehicle, which seemed to be their destination. Another tremble of the ground prompted her to cast her eyes about, and she saw that the dreadnought was following them. It was likely, then, that this was the end.

 

Stopping outside the open rear hatch of the Rhino, the marines forced the assassin to her knees, though they didn’t relinquish their hold. The shuddering footsteps of the Dreadnought grew closer, while a formed stirred among the lights and monitors in the Rhino, and when the Astartes emerged, his footsteps were slow, matched by the dreadnought’s. A huge black cloak hung around the marine’s shoulders, and though his face was unmarred by war, there was a disturbing bionic glow behind his eyes. He stopped, and so did the dreadnought. For a long while there was silence as the marine examined her, until finally he smiled.

 

“So, you’re here to kill me. What are you?”

 

Auriola looked up. This was the Chapter Master? How much did they know, for how long? She locked his gaze, and returned to her own form with the accompanying grinding of bones and gurgling of innards, though her disguised form wasn’t different enough in size that she could have slipped the marines’ grip. Her head slimmed, though, and the rebreather fell from her already masked face.

 

“I am a Calidus assassin, and yes, I am here to kill you.”

[Brother Ambroz]

Good as well. I was thinking the Chapter Master would be the dreadnought! One small thing though. When you say there was a strange bionic glow behind his eyes, what does that mean? Is it a certain color?

[Messor]

Appreciated Tanith! This is the face of the Chapter Master. I'm not yet 100% sure if/how I will portray the relation between the dread and the CM, as the CM will probably be less involved in the story as it goes on. We'll see!

 

~~~

 

The Chapter Master stood for several seconds, regarding the captive assassin, arms crossed in front of him. She stared back impassively, and the silence began to be oppressive. Presently, the Master shifted, hands now loosely gripped behind his back, and he spoke.

 

“I think you’re capable of comprehending the situation, Callidus. What we want to know, we can extract from you,” his voice was soft, and had a charismatic coarseness to it. His tone was also self-assured, he was not making a threat, “Let us skip the banter, the persuasion, the torture, and the pleading, and settle at the promise. Answer these questions, and your death will be swift and honorable.”

 

“I am to die honorably, having betrayed the Imperium?” Her words were laced with contempt, but still she flinched as suddenly the marine was on a knee, his face less than a foot away, the blue glow of his optical implants burning into her.

 

“You are a child, and know not even the meaning of the Imperium. What did the Temple tell you about us?”

 

Auriola’s mask twitched as she smiled, “Nothing.” For the second time she was confronted by the frightening speed of the Space Marine as his hand suddenly gripped her head. The huge palm covered her eyes, cracking the lenses of her mask, and ceramite fingers tightened around her skull from temple to temple.

 

“Wake up, assassin. The mission is over, failed. You are dying here. Make it worth something,” stars began to appear before her eyes as the grip closed, “What information did the Temple give you on your target? What do they know about us?”

 

Her form slackened somewhat as she replied, comforted only by the knowledge that she betrayed another traitor, and not her Temple, “The Temple knows nothing. I took this mission from --Asaid Virenus, the former Callidus-- turned rogue. She…” the iron grip was gone, and Auriola was overcome by sudden dizziness. Why had he let go?

 

“Hm. How did you find us?” The Master had straightened up once more, and there appeared to be a look of satisfaction on his face, “You must have had some intel.”

 

“Virenus as well, she gave me a trail to follow,” she answered, shakily now with the return of blood flow.

 

“Very good,” The Chapter master knelt once more, and closed his right fist, activating some sort of digital weapon Auriola had never seen before. A blade which appeared to be formed of a glowing, semi-transparent, orange energy field kindled to life around his wrist, locking into place over his hand, “I shall keep my promise, assassin. You will die having protected the future of the Imperium.”

 

He drew back his arm to deliver the killing stroke, and Auriola closed her eyes, prepared to enter the Emperor’s embrace. Instead they were both overcome by twin roar of man and machine, and for a moment the world was an earthshaking cacophony, and she fell back amid a hail of rocks and dirt clods. When it was still once more and she dared open her eyes, there was a massive shadow above her, and she found herself looking into the glowing red slit that was the dreadnought’s primary optical feed. Buried in the ground between the Chapter Master and the assassins was the dreadnought’s massive fist. At the first sign of her movement, the fist wrenched free of the ground and descended over her, pinning her securely. She could not see the Chapter Master on the other side of it, but she heard him speak. He sounded mildly curious rather than angry as he addressed the ancient warrior.

 

“Caust. This was your plan, but if you think the assassin can be of further use…”

 

Plan? What did they mea—a setup, it had all been a trap from the start. The whole mission was a ploy by the Chapter to ensnare the assassin. For what? To ensure that the Temple had no knowledge of them? The questions made her head spin, but she brought her attention back to the present. The dreadnought was speaking.

 

“Sir,” the voice more metallic than human, and each word came purposefully and methodically, “With the success of this operation, we have a unique opportunity. We lack all that is necessary to ensure the growth that is necessary. While the offices of the Administratum do not yet know of us, they may still obtrude. We will face an incalculable threat should they catch our scent. Our best defense against the Officio Assassinorum and the Inquisition in the future,” Auriola suffered a heart stopping moment as the dreadnought’s fist gouged into the dirt to clench her and lift her into the air, “may be the Officio Assassinorum.”

 

The Chapter Master observed the dreadnought pensively for several more seconds, though it was clear from the faint smile on his face that he his thoughts were absorbed with ‘How?’ and not ‘Why?’ Soon enough, he gave a nod and said, “I shall leave the details to you and your team. This time tomorrow I expect a report with drafted plan of action. Contain the assassin for now. I will have a detachment from the research cell examine the possibility.”

 

Auriola looked slowly between the two, but the dreadnought offered a metallic grunt, and turned away, carrying the assassin towards a set of low, prefabricated building at the edge of the encampment. Behind them she heard the Chapter Master dispatch the squad of marines after them with orders to “see to accommodations for the prisoner.” She quickly returned her attention to the dreadnought as it marched heavily across the dig site.

 

“I am a liability, ancient, a loose end. My faith in the Emperor cannot be shaken. What can you gain from keeping me alive?”

 

There was a quiet chuckle from deep within the machine, barely audible over the thunder his footsteps and whirring of his engine, “Every human in this camp has unshakable faith in the Emperor.”

 

So it would talk to her. She wasted no time, “Am I to understand that you believe as those who say the Astartes are not human, or simply that you have no faith.”

 

“You will soon recognize that there is both truth and error in those ideas,” replied the warrior simply, appearing to close to questioning. Auriola tried to get one last response from him.

 

“What is to become of me.”

 

The dreadnought stopped in front of the outermost building, the squad of marines gathering below his fist as he lowered her down to be bound. The door hissed open and it appeared she would be taken away without answer. As she was led into the building she continued watching the ancient, and just before the door sealed, his metallic voice followed them in.

 

“Strength for Cerberus is strength for humanity.”