Into the Void [Iron Gauntlet]

[Evz]

1

 

Donal paced his room within the topmost tower of the Angel's Flame. This battle barge had been serving their Chapter since the crusade through the Callisto sector. He sighed, staring out the viewport at the empty void, and back to his suit of artificer armor. He really did not know what to look at. He was out here, in the darkness, with nothing to preoccupy his brain. The crystal above the lift turned to an emerald green and Brother Hazael stepped forth. The Sanguinary Priest shook his head at the Chapter Master.

 

"It has been two months, Commander."

 

"What of the Chapter?" Commander Donal replied, not taking his gaze away from the emptiness of deep space.

 

"They hold strong. Our armory is low, and raiding parties have departed to nearby Imperial worlds for weapons and armor. The serfs are working diligently to recolor the armor to your specifications."

 

"Aye?"

 

"Have you thought of a Chapter symbol?" the Priest cradled his helmet and took a step forward.

 

"Please, Hazael, not another step closer. I wish to be alone." he looked at the deck where his cream robes met the floor. "Nothing. No Chapter symbol. I feel shame, Hazael. Shame for having to hide our rituals from those who we protect. Do you not think me, or my predecessors, wise?" The Commander strode to his throne with wide steps. "We are not the Blood Angels. We are cursed sons of Sanguinius. What would he think of this madness?" he waved his arms to the ceiling, the likes of which was covered in ancient bones of the brothers and serfs who died during the original fighting with the Orks on Callisto.

 

"Commander-" Hazael did indeed take another step forward. "We are fools. How long did we think we could hide it? We are not angels of death, we are no different than the warbands of Abaddon." There was an awkward silence. "No Chapter symbol will stand for the atrocities we have committed. We are monsters in His eyes. We are no longer the Vermilion Wings, successors of Sanguinius. We, long known as the Vultures of Ochim, are now the Void Vultures. May the Emperor have mercy on our souls. Now leave, brother. Leave me."

 

*

 

The fleet, after nearly one long, cold month that the Chapter fleet came across the fleet of Fritz Everec. The youthful rogue trader hailed the Astartes while hiding within the edge of an asteroid field with four ships. After hearing no response, they moved to intercept. 

 

The bridge of the Flame was alight with activity as serfs rushed back and forth. Servitors droned at their stations and Captain Cain snarled at the pict display of the young Imperial. The rogue trader played with his mustache, sitting upon his throne.

 

"Hail. Are you Astartes on a crusade?" he asked, curiously.

 

"Nay." Cain grunted as Hazael and Captain Zimus stepped onto the bridge.

 

"I was wondering. We were pretty deep in Imperial space. I have heard that a group of Astartes have a hefty bounty on their heads, and the Inquisition itself is scouring the segmentum for them."

 

"Is that so?" Cain shifted his weight. There was a silence for a moment.

 

"Well, I wanted to strike a deal. I've been tracking you the past two weeks. By the Throne, I am bloody glad to have intercepted you." he looked off screen. "You still think I don't have tactical genius?" before returning his gaze to that of Cain's bestial eyes.

 

"What... Deal is this?" barked Cain. The rogue trader's eyes lit up with glee. Captain Zimus stepped forwards. "Please, come aboard. We will have the meeting here." The marine nodded.

 

"Be right over," the trader responded after a short delay and some static. Then the pict display went dark green. Cain growled.

 

"You would allow that Imperial scum that sent us to the dogs on our ship?? My ship??"

 

"Brother Cain," Zimus smiled playfully. "The Flame belongs to all of us." he turned to Hazael. "I go to meet with this man. Will you join me?" the Sanguinary Priest nodded. Cain simply sat in his command pulpit, grumbling to himself.

 

*

 

The Aquila lander had been in the Everec Dynasty since Fritz's father's father had roamed the stars. He sat in the cramped, dark (and quite hot) passenger compartment with several of his trusted crew and his bodyguard, Tholt Steelbrow. The Squat huddled up with a large boltgun in his lap, lighting lho stick before strapping in.

 

"You're absolutely insane," the abhuman grunted. "Your father, hell your brother would have never wanted this for you. Traitors?"

 

"They are not traitors my friend. Merely misunderstood. I'm not going to lie about my obsession with them, however. Then again, Astartes. The Angels of Death. Have you ever seen one before? When you were a mercenary?"

 

"No. And I don't care to. But whatever," he grunted. "I go where Everec goes. Damnedable kid." Once all advisors and crew were strapped in, the lander took off into the shadow of space, crossing the emptiness to the fleet of battered ships. "It looks like a damnedable graveyard. I've seen my share o' fleet graveyards." There was plenty of silence and sweating until the lander finally touched down on the solid plating of the space marine docking bay. As they cautiously disembarked, they caught sight of two Thunderhawk gunships, the color of dried blood. With them were several space marines, each one a head taller than Fritz was, and each one in the same dreary dark red with black pauldrons. Their armor was very rough, as though it was seldom fixed after a fight. Their helmets also seemed somewhat strange. A lot of it seemed cobbled together. The Astartes were wheeling large crates from the gunships into the docking bay. A servitor wheeled its way over to them. Fritz's tech priest Helgald stepped forth, and after a moment of chatter, turned to the group. "We are to follow the servitor."

 

The group walked after the drone to a large hangar lift. As it began to ascend into the bowels of the battle barge, Fritz caught the servitor staring at his robe.

 

"Do you like it?" he asked the servitor, who simply continued to stare lifelessly. "Twas my brothers, 'fore I killed him." he chuckled and twirled his mustache in habit.

[Evz]

2

 

The meeting room used was the ancient briefing chamber. Within the center was a vast holographic display of the surrounding segmentum and its subsectors. Fritz wandered into the room, but not before one of the marines he had seen in the docking bay. The large marine unclasped his helmet and stuck out a hand that Captain Zimus took. He was a beast of a man, with a shaved head and bushy brown beard.

 

"Brother-Captain Dexi, welcome back. I hope the hunt went well?" Zimus rose his brows.

 

"Aye, brother. We found a planet under attack by some Ork raiders. We raided the Orks, stole some of their munitions, their armor, took a few weapons. Also culled them. The Planetary Defense Forces shall not have much trouble in the way of clearing up the filth." he laughed heartily. "The Redshields have made their debut and will continue as ordered when we can! What have I missed?" Zimus released his grip and waved his hand across the room to the Rogue Trader's party.

 

"This is Fritz Everec, a Rogue Trader. He has wished to make a deal with us."

 

"What!? What? How did he know? What if he reported us already?? And this is a trap?" The marine tore a battle knife from the sheath on his shoulder pad and light of the hologram projector glinted off of the steel.

 

"I mean you all no harm. I've been researching into you lads. I know a thing or two." he cleared his throat. Tholt grunted angrily in displeasure. "I was in Ultramar not several months ago. Was docking for supplies. That night, traitor marines spilled out of whatever Hell they crawled to, and butchered the majority of my fleet and my crew, and the planet beneath us. I hardly got out alive. I escaped. Didn't sleep for weeks." He leaned forwards, placing his palms upon the table. "I heard tell from my agents of a group of Astartes that were found to do obscene rituals. That the Inquisition was hunting them like game, as they are want to do."

 

"Get to the point, Everec." Zimus crossed his arms, looking down at the man.

 

"Yes, well. I propose a deal. You travel with my broken fleet. Together, our combined fleets could very well be defended. Also, join me on my journeys. Become my bodyguards-"

 

"Adeptus Astartes are not bodyguards, you dog." Dexi scowled.

 

"I will give you enemies to fight. I will give you recruits. I will use my warrant of Trade as a shield for you to hide behind when the Inquisition comes." he was sweating. Zimus could tell the man was growing nervous.

 

 "We will decide. As our Chapter Master and leader is... indisposed after our defeat at Callisto, we must hold council." he looked over to Hazael, Cain and Cain. "We are the only captains aboard the Angel's Flame. Brothers, what do you think?"

 

"I believe," Cain snarled. "We should throw the lot out of the airlock. We don't know if we can even trust them. They were waiting for us, damn it."

 

"You can trust me, boyo. Brother-Captain. You can trust me damn well. I am a man of my word." Fritz scowled back at the space marine. 

 

"I am all for it," Dexi said. "If he promises to aid us in gathering supplies and recruits. Why not?" the captain nodded at the small man.

 

"Hazael?" Zimus turned to the apothecary. "You are not a Captain. You've served us long and have the honor of collecting the most gene seed from the departed. And have saved countless lives of Serfs and battle brothers during the escape from Callisto, We would not be here without you. We would not have survived. Therefore I feel it only seems fair to allow you to place a vote as well. Right now," he looked over to Cain across the hologram table. "It is two versus Cain's one."

 

"Aye. Let him join us. Perhaps, at worst, the Lord Commander will be infuriated enough to take command of his Chapter again," he laughed, half-joking 

 

"Fritz Everec, you are welcome to join your fleet with ours. The halls of our temporary fortress-monastery are yours to wander should you wish. As are the other ships in our fleet."

 

"And my flotilla is most welcome," Fritz stepped up and offered a hand to the large man, who gripped it tightly, and the deal was sealed.