Finding Veth

[Evz]

Koth stood aboard the bridge of Callisto's Tooth. a Gladius Frigate. She was one of the last of her kind after the Devastation of Baal, in which the Void Vultures were given the honor of defending their primogenitor's homeworld after becoming renegade for decades. Half of the fleet was lost, and with it, almost the entirety of the Chapter in the deadly fighting against the xenos. The remainder of the Chapter was sent on a penitent crusade voluntarily, and at its end were allowed to return to their barbaric homeworld of Callisto. This day marked the forty-fourth day after the Chapter had returned home. Koth, a veteran sergeant, stared out at the feudal world below. The Sanguinary Priest Hazael stepped on the bridge, moving beside the sergeant as the other nine squad members wandered on, in all gear save for weapons, their helmets mag-locked to their hips.

 

"Brother-Koth." The priest walked over to the command pulpit where Koth moved to take a seat. Serfs scurried between the giants, going about the business of setting the vessel to be prepared for space travel. Koth did not take his eyes off the blue, green and yellow planet beneath them. Other ships flew around. Like little gnats. To and from space stations and larger void vessels carrying supplies and soldiers. Several were even Astra Militarum transports, ferrying the once-penal legion PDF of the ex-renegade world back home. He wondered of the horrors they had seen, or if they came close to the dangers of the Hive Fleets they encountered on Baal. He snapped out of it, smiling at the priest. 

"Aye, brother! Welcome, it is good to have you aboard."

"Chapter Master Zimus has ordered me to join you, in order to make sure the Red Thirst or Black Rage does not overtake you. We have come so close to extinction these past two hundred years, my brother. It is time we no longer give our Imperium reason to destroy our world or Chapter for good." Koth nodded in agreement. As all other successors of the Blood Angels, the Void Vultures possessed the Red Thirst and Black Rage. On top of this, they had a hyperactive omopghagea organ. This made them cannibalistic monsters in melee. Sometimes worse than others. Master Zimus has wanted to attempt to quiet down on it. They were savages, but he desired for them to not become the monsters they fought for so long.

 

The brother-sergeant stood, after checking the systems on his pulpit. He looked to the assembled squad, nine men, plus himself and Brother-Hazael. "As you know," he began, running a gauntleted hand over his shaven skull. "After the purging of our homeworld over a century ago, our Chapter who remained on world were executed for false-accusations of heresy. This included many battle-brothers, techmarines and librarians. It has come to our attention that Brother-librarian Veth, a warrior originating from the mountain tribes north of our Fortress-monastery, has been found. The last Librarian of the Void Vultures. He remains a Vermilion Wing. As soon as we had escaped the planet and the forces of the Imperium, Brother-Veth had escaped the planet. He has been living in exile for over the past century alone, in a system not too far away from the Ochim star we inhabit, on the fringes of Imperial space. Our sources come from legends and stories, but we must examine them regardless. It is also said he possesses many Chapter artifacts. He was obsessed with keeping the history of the Vermilion Wings pure." He stopped for a breath. "It is our duty to collect this monk, and make him once more a warrior of the God-Emperor. We shall also make him a Void Vulture. A true Vulture of Ochim." He quietly yet powerfully rose his chainsword, and his battle-brothers did likewise. "You may take your stations. We leave orbit within the hour."

"Aye!" came their cry. 

[Evz]

As the vessel made its final preparations to leave orbit of the homeworld, the light above the bridge bulkhead lit green and the portal slid open to reveal a bald man with a beard that fell below his chest. He wore nothing but cloth breeches made from animal skins and standard issue Astra Militarum boots. The man wandered up to Koth, who rose a brow at the human, who came up to his chest. The man smiled. "Hail, milord! M'name's Sor Raban. I hail from the Troi'kel tribe that roams the southern forests, hunting Orks. Or was, before the Chapter went rogue and we were sent to fight as Penal Legionnaires. That was me father's time, though. I was sent out as soon as I was old enough, around thirty or forty years ago, but was raised aboard a starship. I grew up hearin' legends o' Callisto!" he gazed over at the viewport at the world below, still buzzing with activity. "We have fought valiantly in the Konor campaign. Many of us died fighting the Tyranids at Baal as well. But now we wish to join you on this quest. It would be an honor." Sor knelt before the astartes. Koth smiled warmly. 

 

"Rise, my friend. You may join us. I am sure you would be useful. Tell me, I know near nothing of the Callistan Legionnaires who fought across the galaxy during our exile. What are your strengths?" The ship began to turn away, her helmsman preparing her for the jump through warpspace.

"My lord. We have many across the board. We are tribal hunters first and foremost. Some of my squad came from knight-families from the cities, others, the majority, they are hunters and gatherers. They are good with axe and sword, and as proficient with a lasgun as any official member of the Astra Militaru-" the space marine held up a hand.

"You are Astra Militarum, what is your rank?"

"Colonel. I am also chieftain. Or am to be when we return home." The marine looked back at the planet before the gellar field wrapped the ship in its protective shimmering wrapping. This is a man who should have stayed home.

"Did you make landfall at all?"

"Aye, but it was boring, they wanted me to do politicking and I was bored, I had heard tell from one of my lads that a quest was starting up to find a psyker. I thought 'ooh that'd be interestin', and here I am!" 

"Did you... leave anyone in charge?"

"Aye, an astartes and my sergeant's daughter."

"Okay." Koth sighed. "How many are you?"

"We are twenty soldiers of Callisto, my lord." He finally decided to stand at attention.

"We are ten men ourselves. Good. We should be alright. And stealthy scouting forces may be useful for what we are going into. So you are much welcome. There is no chance to return home now anyways. Go make yourselves at home. We should arrive at our destination by two day's time. I want your men prepared by that time. Do you understand?"

"Aye, m'lord. I leave at once." And he walked off the bridge.

 

Hazael sighed, shaking his head. "The humans of Callisto are a noble breed," he took a seat upon a metal bench within the command consoles. Koth decided to join him.

"They are, we are of them." The sergeant chuckled. "I know not what horrors those people had to endure while we were in exile, brother."

"Aye. It is a shame we all must carry. We all support each other from Callisto... battle-brothers and the men and women who survived our culture while we were in hiding."

 

An awkward silence fell. Koth stood finally and walked to his quarters, desiring to be alone in order to meditate.

[Evz]

The ship's gellar field swirled in a maelstrom of colors before the viewscreen. Brother-Cathal of Koth's squad approached him, crossing his arms as he stopped before his battle brother. "What are you staring at? It's not going to change much. Why not read a tome instead? It'd be more interesting than whatever the hell this is." he strode to be beside his sergeant.

"I wanted to be present when the ship exited warp-space, Cathal. The others are ready?"

"Aye, brother-sergeant. Why have we let guardsmen join us? Surely we all cannot fit within two drop pods?"

"No. We will be taking three. The squad of ten can carry our own supplies with us. The second and third will take the guardsmen. We, of course, will land first. A single marine from the squad will go down with the guardsmen as well. Hazael volunteered to be one and I was hoping you would be the second." Cathal snorted, feeling through his hair.

"Aye, sure. I shall protect the lads. Are we ready?" the gellar field dropped and the ship entered realspace. Unfortunately, they were not alone. Within the orbit of Galus IV, their destination, lay a black vessel. The local star shimmering off its dark hull, and the Chapter symbol of the Black Templars was seared into its side.

"Damn this got harder..." Koth grunted, snarling. The ship hailed them and upon the screen appeared a Black Templar techmarine.

 

"State thine business, renegade. Come to aid your sick playthings on the scab beneath us?"

"Even harder..." muttered Cathal, taking his leave of the bridge. Koth sighed.

"We have come to reclaim this world for the Void Vultures Chapter. I am Brother-Sergeant Koth of the Third Company. We come with a squad of tactical marines and a platoon of guards-"

"I did not ask who you are, I know of your despicable kind. Were we not in need of assistance, we would burn your vessel from the heavens."

"It was already proven we were innocent of our crimes."

"There is no such thing as innocence in this galaxy, traitor." Koth sighed, but kept his calm. Alas, this is why he meditated. This fool was looking for a reason to kill them. He despised the Black Templars as much as they did him.

"What is the situation?" Koth asked.

"The planet is crawling with traitors. They are dug in deep like ticks. We have been laying siege to them for two days."

"What do they have?"

"They are mostly traitor militarum and cultists. Quite disciplined at that. Astartes are also present."

 

The hololithe beside Koth lit up, displaying a vast holographic, isometric battlefield. Upon it was a vast stretch of no-man's land and trench networks, along with the vast walls of a city. Green digital explosions popped around the board. The no-man's land was littered with corpses and ruined vehicles. The techmarine growled again before he spoke. "Upon the surface, Castellan Torben leads our Fighting Company. The rest of the Crusade fleet is engaged upon other worlds of the system. You have left it unchecked..." he trailed off.

"That is not my fault, son of Dorn. We were chased. We fought alongside the risen Primarch himself within his Crusade fleet! We fought the xenos at Baal, and defended the home of our own Primarch! So much was lost. Do we not prove ourselves loyal enough??"

"Have I struck a nerve?" The Techmarine cackled. "Foolish monster. Land, report to the Castellan, I shall inform him of your arrival. When the battle is over you may take your world back. What is left of the cinders, of course..." the view screen went blank and was soon replaced with the view of the planet they were suspended over. Hazael joined him.

 

"The Black Templars. Disgusting. I know we engaged in dark things but at least we can engage in things other than purging and crusading. I've had enough of crusading for some lifetimes. What is our objective again? To hunt down brother Veth and secure him?"

"Aye."

"And so what do we do, brother-sergeant?" Koth smiled.

"We do as we were told..." he rubbed his large hands together, turning to one of the serfs passing by. "My friend, send a message to my men. Have them assemble in battle dress in one hour. To meet me in the drop pod bays."

"Yes my lord! At once!" Spoke the robed man, starting off to his station to report.

"One other thing, have the men under Sor Raban report to me in the drop pod bays in a half hour. I shall be waiting."

"Aye lord!"

[Evz]

The drop pod crashed into the craggy ravine. Its doors unsealed and the power armored warriors within collected themselves outside. In the distance, Koth could hear the sounds of battle. A mushroom cloud blossomed on the horizon. They were close to the frontlines. He predicted over the ridge, he would find a hellish no-man's land in between burning trench lines and a massive wall that was once the planet's sole starport. He let his chainsword rest upon his shoulder and turned to his men. "My friends, have we all survived the drop? Or has the martyred Angel gained more to his table?" he turned. They had been quiet. It was not supposed to be this way. The Black Templars were not supposed to be present. They were going to strike in, collect Veth as stealthily as possible, and fly out via Thunderhawk. The reconquering of Galus IV was on the schedule, but not for some months. Months of intel-gathering, scouting, reading, and finally striking at the pressure points of the enemy. Of course, the Black Templars were not known for such subtlety. Koth thought that the sons of Dorn would not give in too easily to picking up and leaving. They had possibly been crusading through these stars for the past century. He thanked the Throne that the Black Templars were not present when the Inquisition struck Callisto, or else there would possibly be naught left but cinders."Eh?" he called out over the vox.

"Brother Bharr, aye!" cried out the marine lugging a plasma cannon.

"Brother Veld, aye!" cried a marine to his left.

"Brother Steim, aye!" another said, hefting his plasmagun. The squad continued as they gathered together in the ravine, collecting their wargear.

"Brother Castiel, aye!"

"Brother Inem, aye!"

"Brother Gen, aye!"

"Brother Thill, aye!"

"Brother Domiel, aye!"

"Brother Hazael, aye!" said the apothecary, checking his netharcium one final time. Koth smiled weakly and looked to the lip of the ravine. He looked to his battle brothers.

"We've fought alongside the Lord of the Imperium, and before that we stood with Commander Dante against the insectoid hordes. We have fought worse than the pitiful crowd of men that stand behind those trenches and walls. What are walls? We are with the Sons of Dorn! Let us show them who they are dealing with." He climbed the ravine and revved his sword as they crested the mound. The battle was worse now. The entire area was aflame. The charred, blackened husks of tanks littered the field. The wall itself, kilometers-high, was entirely blackened. It had been softened by orbital bombardment obviously. "Let all blood fly! For the Emperor, for Sanguinius! For Callisto!" He sang aloud as lasrounds began flying past his helmeted head. His brothers joined him in the final battlecry, opening up fire with their bolters and plasma guns as they charged down the hill towards the Black Templar lines. Koth could not speak for the others, alas with his bolt pistol he managed to blast apart several cultists and traitor PDF. They fell like flies to him. They were the worst the Archenemy had to offer. A Leman Russ covered in the markings of the Dark Gods began to fire on their position as they crept down the hillside. Rocks and dirt flew all over. Their armor was caked in dust and dirt by the time they finally reached the bottom, now behind the cover of some heavy barricades that the Black Templars had deployed. Hazael was kneeling over Castiel. The marine was grunting under his helmet. The Leman Russ had not directly hit him, but a chunk of shrapnel from the blast had been lodged into his leg. The blood was already drying around the wound. "So the enemy is tainting the Omnissiah's warmachines, eh?" he grunted. Castiel pulled off his helmet. His short mohawk and beard spilled out.

"Damn it!" he grunted.

"Does it hurt?" asked Hazael, using surgical tools to remove it.

"No, damn it. I thought it was a rock hitting me in the leg. It's pissing me the hell off, though. I'm gonna tear apart that tank myself..." he gritted his fanged teeth, smashing a fist into the ground as the apothecary removed the shrapnel. A bit of blood spurted out before the wound quickly clotted. Hazael began to apply a synthskin cream to the dark red crack in the warrior's skin, and then applied a cream to his armor that would fill in the damage. It was then they were overshadowed by a black figure. The Primaris Black Templar shouldered his bolt rifle and peered at them.

"You are the renegades who recently came howling home?" he asked. Koth snarled under his breath, standing to his feet.

"Aye. We have bathed in the fires of the Dominatus Crusade. Guilliman and his lords have forgiven us for our sins after one hundred years of crusading. Before this we abandoned our exile to aid Baal from the Hive Fleet invasion. Is that not enough??" He was getting frustrated. How many more times would he have to repeat himself?" The Intercessor, after a moment of silence, simply nodded.

"Aye." he looked to Castiel, who had lay his head back into the sun-baked dirt for a moment of rest. "You look like you have proven yourselves worthy." he looked to Koth. "I saw you destroy several traitors with your pistol. That was fine aiming. I shall take you to the Castellan. He is expecting you now." Koth nodded, following the taller marine. He had served with the Primaris before, and the Void Vultures were even given a contingent to replenish their fallen. They lacked the Black Rage, a thing which, after the exile, Koth did not mind at all. He had hoped that Cathal and the guardsmen fared better.

[Evz]

Cathal stepped into the shade of the forest. It was full of decrepit trees that had long since seen rain or sun from the bleak skies destroyed by a century of warfare. He looked behind him, the squad of Callistan guardsmen was following closely behind. The marine had mag-locked his helmet to his belt just to make communication with the unaltered humans better. Sor Raban spat upon the dirt as he came up beside the space marine, shouldering his lasgun. "So," he asked. "Where are we headed from here, mate?" Cathal looked through the dense yellow fog filling the wood. The other guardsmen began gathering around them, brandishing axes, swords, laslocks and lasguns. They all wore simple flak armor along with their furs. One wore a steel bucket helmet. The one most armored was Sor, who full full flak plate armor that was somehow silent as he moved about.

"We will cut through this wood, and there should be a hill on the other side. A mountain path shall lead us to the village that reports have stated our target is located." he breathed, checking his auspex.

"Reports?" Sor asked.

"Rumors, chieftain. Simply rumors..." he put away his auspex and pulled free his stalker bolter. He heard a howling in the distance, one of the vehicular quality. He looked over at the men. They did not hear it, such was the curse of the superhuman. "Get into the trees, stick into the shadows," he told them. The guardsmen did as they were told, running to the shadows. Overhead passed three ships, two were valkyries and one a Thunderhawk in the color of the Void Vultures. It brought a sigh to Cathal's lips. The ships were covered in the art of the ruinous powers.

 

Before he had been recruited from the liberated Agri World of Wes VI he had been told there had been some sort of schism in the Chapter. This of course was well over a century ago, at the beginning of their exile. The previous Chapter Master went mad due to the events of the exile, and turned to Chaos as a result. Many battle-brothers, no, monsters, had decided to do the same. They became pirates and mercenaries for the Dark Gods. And they had turned here, to a world so close to Callisto, in order to soil the Chapter's redeemed name. The ships left, headed northwest. Simultaneously, a mushroom cloud blossomed in the same direction. That was obviously the location of the frontline, where the fighting was thickest around the starport. He looked to the guardsmen and stood to his full height, waving them forward. "Onwards," he grunted.

 

* * *

 

The Castellan himself was a Primaris Astartes. The warrior stood tall and god-like, the sun shimmering off of his glossy-black armor. It was as if the man had never stepped foot into a battlezone before. He turned his helmeted head to Koth. "Hail," he said as a mushroom cloud billowed up in the center of no-man's land, and turned his attention back to the battlefield. Koth stood before the lip of the trench wall, gazing out with him. Lasbolts and smoke filled the air.

"What is the status?" he asked. Torben held up a hand, interrupting and silencing the Void Vulture.

"The situation is fine." Koth looked out, seeing a horde of Black Templars charging from trenchline to trenchline. Some fell in the no-man's land, others were blown apart by artillery fire from the heretic howitzers.

"Quite the risky strategy, lord."

"They are but pawns," he looked to Koth finally. "The Adeptus Astartes are all just pawns to be used by the Primaris in order to gain a goal. Risky aye, but they know what they are doing. They know what they hath come to do." He turned back to the battlefield. 

 

What?? Thought Koth, the man was mad. He knew that the Black Templars were overzealous next to the standard battle-brother, but this was a waste. He had heard the whispers, those whispered flew through the wind on every battlefield during Guilliman's crusade. That the Primaris were their replacements, and would one day rise up to purge every non-Primaris space marine without mercy. Koth was not one of those brothers. "And what would you have my squad do?" Koth asked finally, after a silence. By now the Black Templars horde was distracting enough for the Primaris Intercessors to begin their push.

"This is our second attempt to breach today. I have lost hundreds of brothers over the past two days after our initial bombardment of your world." He picked up a power sword from the ground. "I plan on leading my Primaris into the enemy trenchlines. They will not be looking for allied astartes to murder them." he nodded at a flight squadron of two Valkyries and a thunderhawk in Void Vulture colors. Beneath his helmet, Koth's skin turned pale.

"Traitors..." he muttered.

"Aye. You are the perfect tool I will use against the enemy. You shall infiltrate their lines, and can easily assassinate their leaders and open up the front gates for us. If we are lucky, we shall be able to purge the populace by nightfall." Koth nodded as another nuclear warhead went off, destroying many enemy tanks as it did Black Templar swordsmen. The Void Vulture turned to head back to his squad. "And brother-sergeant," Koth stopped, looking back. The Castellan did not take his eyes away from the billowing cloud rushing towards them. "I thank you for returning to your world, alas, it is too late." Koth silently left the battlement.

[Tarvek Val]

Hail, brother! I am very much enjoying your tale; it is a good saga. It's good to see a story with regular Marines and Primaris

marines interacting, that makes for quite an interesting setting. The clinical nature of the Primaris Templars is simply chilling!

 

Cannot wait to see more installments, well done.

[Evz]

Hey thank you! 

 

The guardsmen and marine picked their way through the dead woods and climbed into the foothills of the sharp-rocked mountain. As the reports had stated, there was a path leading up into the mountains, which stretched into the horizon to the northwest and southeast. A natural defense, thought Cathal as they began. He looked to the soldiers of Callisto. "Go into the thickets along the path. If any enemies see us, they shall fire upon me first. I do not require defense, Sor. But I do require you and your men to silence anything that fires upon me. Preferably quietly." Sor smiled and waved his warriors off to each side of the path. Cathal sighed and started his hike upwards. 

 

It was almost entirely unopposed. Here and there, he saw human skeletons dangling from trees. Also the skeleton of a native beast of burden, bleached by the sun. The space marine found himself in front of a ravine full of skulls, their tops sawed off. Opposite was a village. At the summit of the mountain village, on the highest crag, sat a large tower. He saw shadows in the village, and started across the rockrete bridge. A las bolt flashed by his head and he squatted down into cover, bringing his stalker bolter to his chest in a readied position. He grunted, and suddenly heard las shots firing from close by. His warriors were opening up. Peeking over the lip of the bridge's rail he could see a single human wielding a lasrifle firing from a building's roof. He took aim and fired. The bolt connected and the man's brain burst like a grape, the body slumping forwards. More enemies ran from the buildings, wielding all manner of weapons, mostly pipes and clubs. Cathal pulled free his combat knife and bolt pistol. The Callistan guardsmen continued their cover fire, but it was not enough. The villagers were too much.

"They are tainted..." he whispered to himself as he clasped his helmet over his head and stood tall. A shot from a solid slug gun hit him in the chest, pinging off the ceremite. The people rushed him. He had a better looked at them, seeing their mutated faces, their clawed arms, their winged backs. He began to swirl, fire, and stab. Within the next two minutes the whole stretch from where he once stood on the bridge to where the first headless body fell was littered with corpses. Whatever cultists still lived, the guardsmen stabbed to death with bayonet and sword. Cathal did not even breathe as they caught up. "Stealth was required, but it appears that we have been found out. The enemy has conquered this world. We need to reach that tower, take it, and hold it. We will figure out what to do nex-" he was caught mid-sentence by a lasround that flew past his head and shot the neck of one of the guardsmen. The warrior collapsed, screaming and clutching the blood-spurting wound on his neck. Another few tried to put pressure on the wound while others restrained him.

"Get into the buildings!" Sor cried out. The lasrounds were shredding apart the dirt road as the men charged into the nearest buildings. 

 

Sor clutched his lasgun to his chest. He looked over at Gruger, the scarred face of the warrior was in a grimace. "It's a bunch of loons with lasguns, up in the tower. They got a clear view of the village!" Sor put his finger to his earbead.

"Major? How's Lann?"

"He's doing fine," Major Torn's reply came after a moment. "Wish we had the medic with us."

"Likewise, do whatever you can."

"Aye my chieftain!" the bead went silent. A missile lazily spun into the building opposite and blew a hole into its roof and splattered a cloud of flame around it into the street. The bead came on again.

"Chieftain, this is brother-Cathal."

"Aye?"

"I am seeking a point to take the creatures down. I can easily take them all out at once, but I need them to be distracted."

"You got it." Sor jumped up and did a roll across the street into the ruins of the opposite building, where Torn, Lann, Dhif and Brann hid. The lasbolts tore up the street. Then came several consecutive bolter shots. Then silence.

"This is Cathal. I got them."

"Aye! Alright, lads and lasses. How is Lann?"

"He is alright." Torn stood to his feet, shouldering his axe. "We need to get to that tower."

"My lord? We are beginning to approach the tower. I am guessing you will be taking the long way around?"

"Aye, chieftain." came the reply.

[Evz]

The lone Leman Russ tank sat parked alone along its trench line. Troopers of the dark gods lined the trenches behind it. These men were twisted renegades, some with minor mutations, others with their eyes or mouths sewn shut. Others grasping power tools in their tentacle hands. Cassius wandered up and down the line, his worn officer cap covering the burn scar left there from a skirmish with insurgents two years prior. He licked his fangs, inspecting the masked soldiers. And then came a krump. A second krump sounded to his right. Then another. The False Emperor dogs had gotten into the trenches, but they did not even see them??

 

Cassius saw, past the red and black mist a space marine warrior in vermilion armor tossing his guardsmen like ragdolls. He growled, and screamed the order to attack. Lasbolts and solid slugs rang out. Steel met ceramite. Castiel watched it from afar, tossing his krak grenade in his mailed hand after having placed his missile launcher on the black earth. He broke into a run, gripping his grenades tightly. The Leman Russ was nothing to him, they were too busy dealing with the Astartes in the trenches. The moment the left-hand heavy bolter operator spotted him, it was too late. He was clambering on top of the machine. The top hatch opened and a scarred warrior with pig nose popped up, laspistol in-hand. Castiel pulled the pin on his grenade and stuffed it into the traitor's mouth, dropping the second one down the hatch and shoved the man downwards. He jumped off and rolled into the burned soil as the tank erupted behind him. As he stood, the rest of the squad had finished. Koth waved the marine down. They were blackened, covered in dirt and blood.

"My brothers, we have taken the trenchline here." he looked to brother Steim, who was checking his plasmagun. "Steim, contact the Black Templars, inform them of this. We move to enter the city at an underground route used by the train systems to reach the shantytowns in the outskirts. Come."

"Aye, brother-sergeant!" they spoke and followed, stepping over the crippled and dead traitors at their feet. 

 

Hopefully, Koth thought, the gore would disguise them enough to wander the city in plain sight. 'Know no fear,' was a staple saying of the Astartes. Koth did feel fear here. He was angry. Their world was lost. Their world was taken from them, the PDF scattered across the stars. And the systems they once protected, now became prey. And he had to witness it all himself with his own two human eyes. 

 

The station was ancient, and it was very apparent that a battle had been waged here. Koth knelt by the building, inspecting a crater. Judging by the bones tossed about, he decided it was fought years ago. Years. How many, who cared? How many other worlds in nearby systems had fallen with the same fate? And not just the horrors of Chaos, but of piracy and xenos warbands.

 

Or even greedy Imperial aristocrats. He sighed. "Go ahead," he replied to the click in his ear voxx bead.

"This is Thill, sergeant. Come to the tracks. We are gathering."

"No opposition?"

"No... It is worse..." Koth snarled and wandered over, hopping down into the rockrete trench that formed the track. The train was here at the station, parked. It was red, covered in dried blood. Skeletal remains and other corpses were nailed to its surface. Many dried or bleached by the sun. Domiel walked out, shaking his head. "They are crucified in there. It is horrific. They look to be miners, workers... This is evil."

"I have not seen such evils since Konor. I shall never grow used to them..." spoke Veld. Koth bit his lip, looking to the tunnel they prepared to embark down. Hazael placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you sound of mind, my brother?"

"Aye, priest. I am. Aye. I know no fear, I fear no enemy of Man. I am steeled of heart. But... those are His workers. They wake, they eat, they toil. For Him. They are what we protect and I shall never grow used to seeing the defenseless treated in such barbaric ways."

"Aye, it is understandable. This is not fear you feel, but heartache, my friend. Come. We have heretics to punish." he started down the tunnel, activating his shoulder-mounted light. The others followed, Koth did not remain behind. He would purge.

[Evz]

Cathal remembered being initiated into the Chapter. He remembered the Sanguinary Priests watching over the wooden makeshift fight arena, standing by the local lord who sat upon a throne of wood and iron, his leg kept right with an autonomous brace that would not stop belching steam. There was a retinue of Void Vultures standing around, blades and guns out. Cathal had in his hand a wooden axe. The boys around him in the pit all had similar weapons. Wooden swords, cudgels, maces. He remembered the oldest, a 17 year old wielding a wooden bow. They were not opposed to real weapons, alas, the steel and iron were used elsewhere, where the Astartes and the local garrisons fought the Greenskins on the frontlines of the planet. A vast farming machine blotted out the sun, covering the fighters in cool shade. 

 

He was a child, around 11 winters. A gathering of local farmers surrounded the opposite side of the arena to spectate. Among them were Squats and Ratlings, locals from the nearby farm shanties. But most were humans, nobles and paupers alike. In both rags and elegant tunics and farming equipment. The Chaplain called out to begin. Cathal kept his shield up, holding it close, he crept along the rim of the arena while the boys did battle in the sandy center. He made his way around where the lad wielding the bow was and cracked him on the back of the head with his axe. The boy fell, dropping his weapon. Another with a two-hander wooden training sword charged him screeching. The boy was obviously starved, he had patches of scalp showing through his hair, and his ribs shown upon his stomach. Cathal simply pushed out with his shield to knock him back and slapped him hard in the knee to send him down. Now he picked up the sword and using the dueling methods taught to him by his aunt, he twisted and turned through the remaining fighters, til it came down to two.

 

Cathal has since learned that the Blood Angels mainly use duels as a method of initiation, as a basic test. Both lads were covered in cuts and bruises. As they collided, the crowd watched in horror at the blood soaked sands as the Astartes stared solemnly, watching as though looking for mistakes. In the end, both were taken into the Chapter's local fortress, an ancient castle belonging to the Blood Angels during the Great Crusade. It was here where Castiel and Cathal were turned into their new selves. 

 

He snapped back, swinging his weight onto the cliff by the tower and shot dead two rebels. He placed a finger to his ear. "Chieftain, come."

"Aye! We are nearing the base! Not much opposition!"

"As it should be, I have made corpses of them all." he passed into the shadows, and climbed the tower to its summit. The Librarian was here, that is what their intel had been. He ducked down as two stormravens flew by overhead. They turned, obviously noticing the battle damage and smoke and came in for a landing in the village. "By the balls of Baal!!" Cathal cursed aloud, alerting a cultist who rushed him with a drill. The creature did not make it within five feet of Cathal's feet. "Chieftain! Come! The enemy!!" He kept an eye on the gunships, dropping their ramps. Void Vultures stepped out. He gritted his teeth.

 

Long ago before they joined their cousins on Baal, there was a schism. Groups of Void Vultures turned to piracy, Others, to Chaos. This was one of the latter. The monsters moved with such awful speed. He heard screams in his voxxbead and grimaced, drawing his combat knife and returning to the base of the tower. He tossed the knife into the bald head of a pink-skinned marine and with his boltgun opened up on the others, who rushed to cover. They would soon alert the others. Lann and Dhif both lie dead at his feet, completely dismembered and burned to death. Gruger stood with Torn over the corpse of a woman, of what was once was a woman. It was half a disintegrated, steaming puddle. Gruger grabbed Torn and pulled the wailing man away as bolter fire rained upon their heads. Cathal led the two of them into a ravine not far from the tower which would bring them into the rainforest at the base of the mountain. "Move!" he called back to them.

"Alas, what of the others!?" Torn cried. "The Chieftain??"

"Major Torn we shall find them, go. Go and retreat. This is not a fight we can win today!"

"But victory or death!!" Cried Torn, gripping his lasgun and opening up on the Chaos space marines who revealed themselves from behind the tower. Gruger pulled him into the ravine, and Cathal dropped a few frag grenades before leaping in himself.

 

They found themselves in a dense jungle in minutes. Torn was frantic, and Gruger was the complete opposite. Cathal kept both eyes on their rear as the Callistans picked their way through foliage to a gigantic tree. "We shall rest here. Gather your wits." He ordered them, checking his ammunition and checking for the combat knife that was not present. He sighed before taking out the paste to fill in the holes in his armor. "They will not be far behind."

[Evz]

Gruger and Torn sat upon one of the thick, moss-blanketed branches. Cathal waited in the shadow of one of the vast tree's gnarled roots. The two traitors marched slowly into the clearing close by the tree. It had been twenty standard minutes, and the heretics had been hunting the woodland for them. Cathal had been leading them around falsely, as the two guardsmen prepared a trap. The warrior aimed his bolter. The first shot slammed into the horned helmet of the nearest enemy. His neck snapped as the bolt erupted within the ceramite of his helm. The heretic fell to his side, but he was not yet dead. Alas, his head was a ruined mess. He stood up, and the two guardsmen opened up with their lasguns upon the bare-headed mutant. The two creatures began to react, hoisting up their chaos boltguns and opened on the tree. 

 

The second bolt shot the further enemy. He was hit in the chest but by now the two knew their prey was level with them. By now, Cathal came charging, screaming from the bushes, caked in mud, dirt and blood. He fired from the hip. "TAKE THEIR HEADS!!" He shouted, an ancient Callistan battlecry between the various empires. The helmetless marine drew a long, black dripping knife and swept in a downward arc. Cathal blocked with his bolter. The metal was cut from the impact. The second ran to the jungle edge. It was here where Torn and Gruger sprung their trap. The heretic had walked onto the hidden pit, and fell onto a blanket of sharpened sticks and branches. Most of the wood had splintered beneath the weight of the monster, but many still pierced the soft parts between the plates, a large branch impaling his abdomen.

 

Cathal pushed back the warrior, who simply grabbed the boltgun and threw it aside. They were man-to-man now. Cathal had naught but some grenades and ammunition. He tore off his helmet and, holding up his arm, blocked the next blow from the blade, and bashed his helm into the face of the warrior, staggering him. Cathal turned and ran back into the bushes, the heretic screeching with glee on his tail. He dove under branches, leaped over fallen leaves. He eventually made it to the tree marked with a crimson blood drop of red clay where Torn's axe was embedded into the trunk. He tore it free, turned and tossed. Just as the heretic came laughing from the underbrush, he was met with the axe blade biting into his brain. He fell silent, and collapsed, dropping his large knife. Cathal, sweating, approached and kicked the warrior. Torn and Gruger emerged, guns in-hand. "My lord?" Gruger asked. "Are you hurt?"

Cathal examined the wound. His bracer was cleanly cut through, and though the wound had clotted, it had healed jet-black. He was dizzy, and nauseous. "The axe..." he grumbled, he felt his body's functions kicking in: tuning out pain, mostly. Like being shot, but a hundred times worse. "Damn it, you savage give me the bloody axe! By the Angel!!" he cried. Gruger picked up the axe, heaving ones to free it from the skull with a pop. Blood squirted from the wound, and the corpse shuddered. 

 

Cathal fell to a knee, placing his arm across a nearby boulder. "Like the trees, but more ceramite. Aye?" he coughed. Torn sighed.

"Is this wise, lord?" Asked Gruger, readying the axe, holding it above his head. What little light shone through the thick canopy glinted off its steel.

"Aye, wise as wise could possibly be. The bastard's knife was poisoned, I require aid. Hazael... Brother Hazael is so far..." the axe came down without another word, and the arm touched down by the corpse of the enemy. Cathal smelled blood, his own and the enemy's. And that which wept from the wounds of the guardsmen. It was catching up to him now. He breathed. The bastards, what had they done to him? An anxiety swept over him, he felt like his whole body was burning. The pain of his arm was gone, yet it was replaced by something far worse coursing throughout his whole form. His screams echoed through the forest.

 

* * *

 

Hazael sighed as they crossed another four-way intersection. Others in their colors were here, many. Some even sporting colors of Vermilion Wings seeking vengeance against the empire that cast them out. He could see other Chapters, renegade Blood Angels mostly, and other renegade chapters. For how long has this wound been left to fester?

 

Koth was far more angry, and was hiding it beneath the helmet stolen from the skull of a heretic. None liked what the Black Templars had done to them. A warhead went off across the city where the sons of Dorn lay siege to the immense walls. Heavy winds swept through the streets. Laughs and cries sang out as the renegades and cultists gathered around the taverns and burn barrels among the street. A few cultists, skinny, malnourished creatures, knelt upon both skeletal knees as the astartes passed them by. Koth deeply wanted to put them out of their misery. The warhead's mushroom cloud rose high into the atmosphere. They watched it as they carefully picked their way down the bright street. Other marines watched them. Their scent of blood was heavy. The beasts that surrounded them had possibly almost entirely surrendered themselves to the Flaw. Koth kept his hand upon the chainsword mag-locked to his hip. He hoped he would not need it, there were not too many renegades here. Most were in the thick of the fighting. It seemed to just be slaves and cultists. They turned the corner of a tavern with its windows blasted out. Within were men and women dancing madly around fires, drinking, singing and other acts. "There," he said quietly, pointing to a spire in the city center. "That citadel is the governor's palace. That is possibly where the enemy's leadership lies. We shall get in, eliminate them, and take a shuttle to brother Cathal's position. Priest?" 

"I have him still, he is in the rain forests by the mountains. I know he has already engaged, but the vox has fallen silent. Either he is dead, lost his communications, or the guardsmen have been obliterated. I do not know which is worse."

"We will find him, either way." Koth grunted and nodded to the citadel. "Move."

[Evz]

Cathal awoke with a start. He had never once fallen asleep whilst in the middle of a mission. Standing to his feet, he took in the dense jungle around him, rolling his shoulders to get his body to awaken. The two guardsmen approached from the east, Torn with a full canteen. "My lord!" he cried.

 

"What has happened?" he asked, puzzled.

 

"You entered a rage. You went berserk and devoured the corpse of the heretic!" he exclaimed. Cathal took another look around him. The dead traitor was nowhere to be found, but there was clumps of ancient power armor pieces and pools of dried, crusted blood. "It was madness. It had to have been the poison. I have not once seen a space marine do such beastial acts, though I see now why you are called the Void Vultures!" Cathal simply nodded. He shook the stump arm of which he had severed before he had blacked out.

 

"How long has it been since I have fallen?" he asked.

 

"Two days. We have found a river to the east. Come," and he followed the two. The river ran gracefully through a cluster of ancient ruins, mostly stone buildings. Cathal waded out into the middle of the crystal clear water, sparkling in the light of the local star. A welcome beauty since learning of the acts he had done. No son of Sanguinius would have desired to reveal the Flaw to outsiders. And he showed two guardsmen the Red Thirst, or perhaps it was the Black Rage? It was the Flaw regardless. He would not kill them, as the Chapter Master, the Great Shogun, would execute him upon learning of it. He shook the thought from his skull, and approached a waterfall. The guardsmen went to pick through the ruins. He waved his one mailed hand through the white foam of the falls and pushed through, desiring to feel cool water in his hair and to clean away the grit of war. Then he found a cavern just behind it. 

 

Walking some steps down into the dripping cavern was a tomb. Here sat a power armored warrior atop a great throne, surrounded by pots, vases, chests and gold. He dusted off the warrior's pauldron to see the symbol of the Vermilion Wings, their previous name. He had found an ancient Chapter hero.

 

"His name was Ancin. A captain who first drove away the Orks in the sector, mostly on the planet. He was revered by the local populace and they gave him a burial worthy of a god. An arrow took him in the neck, primitive I know..." a large man dressed in tattered robes walked around the throne. "Have you come to liberate the world, brother?"

 

"You are Brother-Veth?"

 

"Aye, that is me... I came here to escape the Inquisition when Callisto came under Imperial crackdown, I assume they have allowed you to return under penitent crusade, aye?"

 

"So much has happened, brother of whom I have never met. Why did you come here?"

 

"There is a wealth of Chapter knowledge and history in the ruins outside of the populated cities and towns. And many tombs with many artifacts, which of course would be of great usage to the Chapter as it stands... Hm, changed colors and symbol I see... " he looked Cathal up and down. "And you do not look Callistan, you are too pale to be a warrior of our world."

 

"Aye, you would be correct. I was recruited into the Angels of Death whilst the Chapter were in self-exile, wandering the stars. My world was under attack by greenskins and in return for liberating us they gave them recruits."

 

"I see..." Veth turned and sighed. "You have come to seek me, I would imagine."

 

"Aye. The Chapter is without Librarians, or any to train them. Or find them. We have none of that on Callisto."

 

"I see. Then I shall come. I will, aye. The issue here must be stopped first, however. They first came as heretics and rebels, preparing to take Callisto apparently. They wanted us to be weakened, but they wanted us to be there. These are traitors of the worst sort. They have been planning this attack since before the Exile." He sat on the stone floor, cross-legged, his beard sprawled upon the floor. "The Death Guard aid them. It is horrendous what they plan to do. I understand the Black Templars have come to nuke the world, aye?"
 

"They are with the others, trying to take the capital-starport." There was silence.

 

"That is where they are, then..." Come, let us go to my ship." He stood slowly.

 

"What is it you plan to do?" Cathal asked.

 

"To meet the others, of course!"

[Captain_Krash]

Bravo! Great job seriously enjoying this! Can't wait for more

 

Krash

[Evz]

The old Librarian's ship was a gun-cutter, ancient. Like it had not been used in centuries. Vines grappled with its chassis and the psychic warrior removed them with flicks of his wrist. As it emerged from the undergrowth, Cathal realized it was a civilian model, possibly one originating in the nearby systems. "The guardsmen..." he said. "Did you see two guardsmen?"

 

"I might have, yes. In the area. We can get them after. When we return of course."

 

"They are also warriors of Callisto! They have right to be with us as well!"

 

"Where we are going, mortals will break savagely. Like sticks upon stones." He lowered the ramp with another flourish and the two boarded. In the cockpit was a near-skeletal servitor, whom looked to them with an emotionless gaze. Veth nodded and the machine began its slow ascent.

 

"We will not go without the warriors, land in these ruins, then head to the mountain village. We go with the survivors. They deserve this much!" Veth grumbled to himself and nodded to the servitor. After the ship landed in the ruins, sending wind and dust about as Torn and Gruger appeared behind a broken column, they flew off towards the mountain-side village, in clear view now that they were above the rainforest's canopy. The gun-cutter set down atop a landing pad by the tower, possibly where the stormraven had lifted off. Cathal emerged, dust still kicking up and settling on his dark red greaves. Brann, moving with a limp, was being carried by Sor from the shadows of the tower's interior. Pirn was sitting on an overturned motorbike missing a tire. Sor's entire person was covered in dried blood. The man did not have any access to water to wash it off, and his armor was mostly removed, and what was left looked battered and covered in lasbolt marks. They silently and tiredly wandered up the ramp. Cathal understood that this was all that would be joining them. The boarding ramp shut and Veth looked over the guardsmen. He nodded to the servitor, who slowly picked them up off the dry, baking earth. 

 

"There was nothing I could do..." whispered Sor as Cathal gripped the bar above his head, peering down. "I saw the monsters tear through them like animals. They... Jae... I saw what they did to her..." he whispered, "right in front of the Major... A meltagun. Point-blank. Nothing left." Cathal bit his lip and walked toward Veth.

 

"I have told you already that the mortals would break when we arrive at our destination, but I did not think them to already be broken..." his voice trailed off. 

 

"Where are we going?"

 

"To the city, Brother-Cathal. To the city. The starport is their headquarters. We shall land within reasonable distance to the governor's palace, which doubles as one of our Chapter citadels. It is where the vermin dwell. I must prepare my equipment. I suggest you aid these people in collecting themselves."

 

* * *

 

A heretic creature crept up to the astartes, wearing what Koth assumed to be a blanket. It peered at him through holes, and a great iron ridge was beaten into its back, causing it to be permanently hunched over, crawling almost. "The masters request!" It exclaimed to him. "The masters!!" he pointed to the citadel.

 

"What do you need, creature?" Koth asked. Castiel grunted.

 

"My lord, it obviously wants us to follow it to the leaders..." he whispered behind the sergeant. Koth nodded.

 

"Take us then, before I burn you, creature." the animal nodded and turned, running as a human does on all fours, a quite disturbing sight to behold. Almost natural. The heretic led them into a wide courtyard full of space marines. Void Vultures, Knights of Blood, Death Guard and Black Legion warriors filled it. Squad-Koth entered the courtyard and stood side-by-side, as they had always been trained to do. 

 

"This is bloody madness..." Hazael whispered into the vox-bead. "I pray we make it out alive." There was silence and the doors leading to the balcony dwarfing them all opened. Out stepped a warlord, obviously once of the Void Vultures himself, carrying a great axe. With him stood a Lord of Contagion and several smaller creatures, some daemonic. They parted and a Void Vulture emerged, possibly an archenemy champion. He held up a long black blade, dripping with some strange matter. He shouted in a strange tongue. The crowd cheered battlecries. They unsheathed similar swords, glaives, knives and axes. More screaming. Then he began to speak in High Gothic "Our own Black Crusade begins! For so long have we waited! We avenge those who left the black books upon the soil of Callisto so long in our glorious past! We move to take Callisto in three day's time! Alas the rabble outside of the gates, those overzealous dogs must be shown to HEEL to us! But before that, our true allegiance must be revealed, and the great blood sacrifice for a victory must be collected!!" He swept the black blade, and brutally decapitated the Lord of Contagion beside him. The armored head rolled off, and a cloud of scared flies blew away from the corpse as the large weight collapsed, dropping its weapons. Suddenly the courtyard turned to madness as warriors all across the yard began turning on the Death Guard marines in the tight premises. Bloodshed flowed around. Koth watched a pool expand beneath his feet. This was madness. "Glory to Slaanesh!!" Screamed the champion. He screamed it several more times before exclaiming "Open the gates! Open the gates! Let in the Sons of Dorn and we shall show them a war!!!" Victorious cheers and roars along with the various revving of chainweapons echoed. The traitor guardsmen, heretic and cultists outside were also cheering and screaming. Koth could see the immense city gates opening, and the traitor guard positioned in the trenches outside began to fall back as the Chaos marines began to file out, in order to reach their hiding spots to ambush the Black Templars. The squad did not file out, they pushed their way past the gore-smelling filth into the citadel, which was eerily abandoned. Everyone had left to defend the city. One question went through the sergeant's head.

 

What were these weapons? 

[Evz]

The gun-cutter lurched over the city surrounding the starport. Cathal grunted, looking out the portal at the dead, desolate streets as the ship made its way between hive spires. He moved into the cockpit where Veth stood beside his servitor-pilot, dressed in full blue Librarian power armor, an axe resting upon his shoulder. "Can we reach the vox of my team?"

 

"Aye. We should. Put in the number and we shall attempt." Veth said with a grunt. The tactical marine did just that.

 

* * *

 

The marines of Koth moved quietly through the corridors of the palace-citadel. Gen and Bharr were on point, hefting their boltgun and plasma cannon respectively. Koth moved behind them. They, thus far, had come across nothing but the corpses of heretics. Crippled, slave laborers who served the dark powers, and had finished their purpose. "Their deaths were ritualistic suicide," voiced Domiel quietly as he strode up beside Koth. The veteran sergeant coldly stepped over a cadaver and nodded his head at a nearby door. Gen pushed the switch which slid it open and Bharr stepped inside with his cannon primed. Within were droning servitors and a techpriest. It turned to look at them. The priest's face was near-skeletal, and both eye sockets were empty. A third eye blinked at them from its forehead and it pulled out a plasma pistol. Bharr obliterated it before it could pull the trigger. The rest of the Astartes came in, firing a shot into each and every servitor, obviously they were tainted, having the eight-pointed star and carved into their flesh. Worse yet was they were not even servitors, but fully human slaves.

 

When the entire squad entered, Gen closed the door behind them and they piled around the table next to the smoldering corpse to see what the priest was looking at. A blade blade. Hazael grunted, removing his helm. "This is warpcraft. I shall run tests-" he was interrupted by his voxx-bead. "Go ahead."

 

++This is Cathal, I am alive and with the surviving guardsmen. We have secured the Librarian, brother-sergeant!++ they heard over the voxx.

 

"Good, brother-Cathal," Koth sighed in relief. "We are within the citadel. It is virtually empty, and the archenemy is collecting around the main gates of the city. We shall secure a nearby landing platform for extraction."

 

++Aye brother-sergeant! We shall see you soon!++ the voxx went silent. As did the room.

 

"Brother-sergeant..." Hazael said. "The blade is warpcraft. It is coated with toxins somehow able to bypass functions of the Oolitic kidney. There are research documents on test subjects, as well as mortal slaves," he bit his lip. "It also somehow causes berserk functions not unlike our own Red Thirst."

 

"So they dare to use the Flaw of our geneseed and our physiology against us?"

 

"It was obviously made by a combined effort of the Death Guard and our own traitors. We must proceed with caution. Who knows what this toxin will do to us..." Hazael stood tall. "Brother-sergeant?"

 

"We move, to the landing platform as we have decided," he strode across the chamber. "Our mission objectives remain the same, and we are halfway through. I know not what will become of this world, but I know it is far too late for it. Brother-Inem!"

 

"Aye sergeant?" the space marine looked to him.

 

"Contact the Callisto's Tooth, inform them that we have the VIP and to prepare for warp jump. Also have them contact the Spire to send reinforcements. This is still our planet, as diseased as it may be."

 

"Aye sergeant!" 

 

"The rest of you form up with me, Inem in the center. We move to take that landing pad! Onwards!"

 

"Aye!" they cried.

 

* * *

 

Castellen Torben gazed out as the massive city gate opened. He put his finger to his ear. "They have decided that their time has come, and offer themselves as a sacrifice to their gods. Go, brother. End them. I shall be behind you with my brothers." Various heretics and rebels in the field began abandoning their tanks, shooting autorifles on full auto in order to cover their scarred brethren as they made for the gate.

 

Across the no-man's land, the sword brethren veteran sergeant Guy sneered at the gate, hefting his chainsword. The Black Templars around him charged. Within, he hated the Castellen. He was almost touching that position when they were reinforced with the Primaris. And now the bastard clad in Gravis armor has taken that from him. Along with this, many of his brothers. They were no brothers of him, they were terrible. He was naught but a pawn to that monster. Feeling zealous on this day, however, with victory at hand, he would take this fight. He led his marines in through the gate, but as soon as the horde of black armor crossed the line, the immense gate began to shut behind them. He turned to see the Primaris Intercessors and Aggressors by Torben's side slowly approach. That was the last thing he would ever see.

[Evz]

The squad filed out onto the landing pad. Cultists and traitor guardsmen fell by their weapons as they pushed onwards, the fight through the tower-temple was hellish. The gun-cutter sprayed fire from its rotary cannons as it descended, gore and splinters of skull washed across the flat metal. The boarding ramp fell and Cathal ran out, firing with a bolt pistol he claimed from the cutter's small armory. The rest of the squad made it on board, and they began their ascension. 

 

"Everyone here?" Asked Koth as he tore off the traitor helmet. The marines sounded off, none at all weary, but all of them irritated by what they had witnessed this day. "Veth!" he cried upon seeing the Librarian.

"I have heard you made the order to reclaim this world?"

"Aye, the order was sent up to our starship. The Spire shall be contacted!"

"And the world bathed in fire I hope? We do not need this planet. The vines, the blades of grass, all of it is diseased and near-lifeless. It is a world not worth saving. I have heard of worlds escaping the grasp of Chaos, but the timeframe is too long. Too wasteful. We need to simple stamp it out. What is that?" he pointed through a viewport at the corpses of Black Templars. The "pawns," as Koth remembers the Castellen referring to them. They had been butchered. Cultists and traitor guardsmen were among them, running their bayonets through the gaps between armor. Outside the walls, they saw the Primaris force, waiting for the gates to open. 

 

"We must warn them! The dogs!" growled Koth.

"We must get off this blasted world, brother-sergeant. Order their ship to fire." the Librarian spoke, almost calmly.

"We cannot! That would be going back on everything we spent a century to correct! To repair! I do not care if that man is a cold bastard, we will not be leaving a cousin of our gene seed to die! Take us down servitor!" the creature at the controls let out a hum of acknowledgement and the ship shuddered as it began to descend. The ramp opened. Koth grabbed ahold of a bar by the exit and shouted over the gunfire as the Castellen turned to look.

 

"My lord! There is a trap beyond that gate! Your men have been wiped out!" The gate slowly opened.

"Then they were weak!" he shouted back. Guardsmen and cultists began to rush the Black Templar lines, behind them came the heretic astartes. Koth gritted his teeth as the warriors clashed. Veth grabbed his pauldron.

"We should leave!"

"We should fight!"

"It will not take our fleet long to reach here. Have your ship fire down on the planet. Let us leave this desolate place, I have spent too long..."

 

Koth looked to Cathal and the guardsmen. The humans were exhausted, half of them dead. Cathal was missing an arm. "Perhaps you are correct..." He looked to Hazael, who was checking Cathal's stump. He nodded. "I shall speak to them, and the Templar cruiser post-haste..." he said quietly. The cutter turned upwards. 

[Evz]

Cathal sat in the void harness as the cutter broke the atmosphere into the empty silence of space. The Callisto's Tooth and the squadron of Black Templar ships began to fire upon the lonely world. Several Black Templar gunships escaped the exterminatus. The Void Vultures fleet arrived, and the destruction continued. The suffering world would suffer no longer. Cathal stood upon the bridge beside Koth and Veth. A door opened and Chapter Master Zimus stepped in to view the burning world with them.

 

"Hello, Shogun." whispered Koth, who bowed deeply, followed suit by Cathal and Veth.

"I am Shogun not much longer, brother-sergeant..." the Chapter Master stepped closer, watching the Black Templar ships fire upon the world. A Chaos fleet emerged on the opposite side of the world. It was small, a group of flies escaping a heap of garbage. "This is dishonor at its bleakest. We have reclaimed our home, but the tithe worlds, the recruiting worlds. What little there were, they are gone. I should step down, give the Shogun title to someone more worthy."

"You have guided us into the Dark Imperium, Shogun!" Koth stammered. The Black Templars and Void Vulture fleets moved to engage the renegade fleet. Fury interceptors lanced into the void before the larger ships, eager to spill heretic blood.

"This is true. Alas, I am tired. When we return home, I shall oversee the world return to its roots. I shall also appoint the next Shogun when I can..." he sighed. "Koth..." he started, using the sergeant's actual name. "I wish for a full report. I must return to my ship before the captain of the flagship gets too mad with bloodthirst. Veth, care to join me?" he asked, placing his mailed hand upon the pommel of his sheathed sword.

"Aye, my lord. I would be honored. I shall tell you too of what I have survived in. The sagas will last centuries." the Shogun smiled.

"I am sure they will! Onwards! Prepare my thunderhawk! Give me a fury escort. I wish to command my own fleet, now. Thank you, Koth..." he bowed, and left.

 

* * *

 

Callisto, six months later...

 

The lone astartes wandered out of the dreary forested mountain pass. He wore naught but a wool cloak over his person and a set of linen trousers, a combat knife sheathed at his belt. It was mid-autumn, the forests were the color of rust, the grass a dark green. The sky, a pale gray. Behind him was the Spire, in the desert wasteland sitting upon the horizon. Before him, the small border-fortress of Drachenmaul. He wandered in, his bionic arm pushing through the wood of the gate into the inner-courtyard. Men and women fell silent as the giant entered. Guards lowered their weapons. The warrior entered the nearest tavern. There he found Sor, Brann and Pirn sipping beer from ivory mugs. "Cathal!" they cried. The warrior sat, lowering his hood.

"Aye, it is I." he grinned. "I shall have three mugs at once, show you what a son of the Emperor is truly capable of!"

"Aye!" they cried. The guardsmen had all been protecting their home villages since they arrived, Sor especially overlooking the village his ancestors hailed from. From the safety of a grand stone keep no less. Cathal had been visiting the survivors every month, as he felt he owed these courageous men that much.

 

Zimus had stepped down as Shogun, giving the title to Captain Tyzil of the fourth company. Zimus returned to bis third company, leading his men across the galaxy where needed. Veth simply remained in the Spire, at the highest tower, teaching the new Librarians their craft.Drfff