Mark of Calth

[Vazzy]

Calth
5 Kilometers outside Arcology System Echo Gamma 4
XIII/XVII Staging Area

 

 

Rufus Scipio regarded the assembled word Bearers with a sneer of disgust behind the visor of his cobalt and gold Iron armor. The Word Bearer in front of him bore Crimson MKIV plate, with acid etched runic marking all along it. Rufus’ lip curled in a sneer. This stank of the brutal hedonism the XVII had become known for since Monarchia and their crusades to the outer edges of the galaxy. Throughout the Galos Muster, Ultramarines of the 129th and 51st company are interacting with their opposite number of the Word Bearers. The Word Bearers voice rasps out from his vox-grill.
“Brother, I look forward to fighting alongside you against the Greenskins. I’m sure we will get along grandly. “
Scipio understands why the Captain wants them to get to know the XVII marines, but truth be told, saw little point in the action. He knows it’s to help salve over the wounds opened 50 years ago, to “make amends” as Sergeant Orphas had said. But that doesn’t mean Rufus Scipio has to like it. He realized the warrior had still been talking.

“I’m the best swordsman in the company, I’ve never lost. Id reckon I’m the best at the muster, if I say so myself. Zytan Marcos”
Rufus ground his teeth, “Is that so?”

The Word Bearer nodded, “Most Likely, I could beat you.”

Orphas overhead the conversation, and in a private vox link,

“Scipio, control your temper, stay calm-“ But the decorated Sergeant didn’t get to finish his sentence as Rufus Scipio, newly raised from the Scout Auxiliaries, slams his fist into the snout of the of MK IV helm.

As soon as he connected with the Word Bearer, Scipio realized hed been goaded into the attack by the other man. But it didn’t stop him from slamming his fist repeatedly into the face of the Word Bearer, knocking of the helmet. A dusky skinned face stared back at him, eyes full of hate. Zytan quickly retaliated and slammed his knee into Scipios gut, then rapidly hammered his fists into the abdomen of the young Ultramarine. Within seconds Zytan had gone of the offensive, and Rufus soon found his own helm off and blood dripping from his nose.

“Bastard!” Zytan yelled, furiously slamming a swift right hook into the side of Rufus’ head, and knocking him out cold. By this point, a crowd of legionaries had gathered around and were attempting to break up the fight, and a crowd of red armored men were dragging their brother back who was still ranting.”
“Bastard Ultramarines! Going to bleed Warrior Kings! You’ll see, you’ll see!”

Brother Sergeant Orphas watches the livid fury on the man’s face, stoic. Inwardly, he’s raging at the foolishness of Scipio, and his inability to control himself. Of all the days the boy chose today to defend his honor. Tauro saw Captain Fidelitas stalking towards him, blood red cloak snapping in the wind. He picks up Scipio and drags him after him, berating the young Ultramarine along the way.