Ruinators, Short Story Extract!

[Babu Dhakal]

Welcome Brothers to an extract of a short story for my new Chapter, the Ruinators! I would love hear your opinions and welcome constructive criticism! Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Emergence

The Void, M.42

 

 

 

 

 

 

The void was still, stars glinting in its darkness and suns radiating their brilliance in its depths. All was quiet and content as far as the universe was concerned with this little portion of its immense self. That was until with sudden violence a fissure ripped through reality’ fabric and cut into the void with the screaming of the Neverborn billowing out unnatural flame; its colour ever-changing like the realm it spawned from. Yet amidst this gauntlet of chaotic energy a lone frigate, Gladius class, crashed through like a toy thrown by a petulant child into the clutches of the cold embrace of the void. Then as fast as it had appeared, the fissure slammed shut, sending shockwaves rolling through space, hurling the frigate farther and further on until it finally settled. Its form was battered and bruised, the proud eagle prow head that had slid through space and sliced through battleships for centuries, hung direly on by a thread, nearly decapitated. Its ancient Gothic spires that had stood regal upon its back, were twisted and contorted. Broken and snapped. The golden gilded plates that had covered its flanks and underside were misshapen, as if an animal had raked its long claws along it, trying to gut the ship for the precious meat that laid inside.

 

 It looked just as bad on the inside, thought Sergeant Nero Fortunus as he limped through the broken remains of his ship.  His bolter was still smoking from overheating as it clung on to his thigh plate, the heat slowly bleeding into his armour. He and his squad had fought for what seemed like days, killing and slaughtering demons that had slipped through Bleeding Edge’  flickering and failing Geller field. Claws had gouged deep furrows through their blood red armour and holes disfigured its ornate honours and intricate detail as acidic bile had chewed its way through the ceramite. All in all, he was lucky to be alive though, unlike Brother Matteo who had been ripped apart by shadows as he swung his chainsword desperately trying to keep the monsters from devouring Tech-priest Epsilon Vor. That had left only four remaining from his combat squad, though they too were cradling injuries of their own. It was always hard for Nero to lose a marine under his command but he was a brother of the prestigious Blood Angels Chapter, he would not let such dark thoughts cloud his mind. 

 

‘Captain Adrian,’ he voxed to the Command bridge as he limped past the butchered carcasses of a Naval Armsmen team.

‘Yes, my lord Fortunus?’ Bleeding Edge’s Captain answered, stifling a coughing fit.

‘How do the repairs fare, Captain? I do not like being exposed in such unfamiliar territory.’

‘They progress slowly. We have little crew left to affect repairs on such significant wounds, lord. And the Martian tells me we need much more raw material to bring Bleeding Edge into a serviceable state.’ Captain Adrian reported.

‘Tell Tech-priest Epsilon to repair what she can. But we need those engines online, even if it means tearing the rest of this vessel apart.’ Fortunus replied, grunting as he shifted debris out of his path.

‘Aye, my lord. I shall let her know.’

‘Good, then that is all, my friend.’ Closing the link, the sergeant opened another to his squad. ‘Report,’ His voice rang through each of their helms.

‘I have encountered two so far, brother-sergeant,’ reported battle-brother Mathais as he led a contingent of Naval Armsmen through the menial decks. A stalwart warrior that upheld the Chapters virtues with unwavering loyalty. 

‘None to report, Sergeant.’ Another voice voxed through. ‘The gunnery decks are clear of warp filth,’ Brother Darius reported with just a hint of disgust in his voice. He was the squad's zealot, a never ceasing engine of wrath that was barely contained. Thanks to him, the reactor chamber hadn’t been breached by the ravening hordes of crazed crewmen.

‘I have slain five of the beasts, brothers.’ Brother Flavius preened over the vox. He was a peacock, more worried about personal honour and glory than anything else. Warriors like him were more common in the Chapters than one might have thought. A regrettable fact of Adeptus Astartes life.

‘Quit your boasting, Flavius,’ Brother Darius’ deep voice boomed across the vox. ‘You sound like a gloating neophyte.’ 

‘I am not such,’ Flavius said offended. ‘You are nothing but a-,’

‘Quiet, Flavius. You should know better that boasting one's own achievements is not a virtue or trait of our Chapter. It is unbecoming of an Angel.’ Sergeant Fortunus admonished the marine, steel colouring his voice.

For a moment, Flavius said nothing over the vox before he reluctantly repented. ‘Of course, brother-sergeant. I will endeavour to follow our Chapters virtues more strictly.’

‘You will, brother. You will also do ten days' penance for your misdeed.’

‘As you will it, brother-sergeant,’ the marine groaned. With Flavius’ punishment felt out, Fortunus addressed the whole squad again, ‘Marines complete your sweeps and meet at the bridge in ten, we will need to discuss our unfortunate position and get this ship back to Baal.’

 

With orders issued and affirmation signals from his squad, the sergeant continued his limping march towards the bulkhead that stood between him and the bridge. He saw Chapter serfs specialized for security hunkered down behind makeshift barriers, the red of the Blood colouring their robes that hung over their combat carapace. They had both noticed their lords approach after he got within a hundred metres, his massive form no longer hidden behind debris of steel plating. Standing straight-backed with shotguns held at parade rest until Fortunus drew near enough to set them at ease, before entering through the bulkhead. The bridge was as intricately decorated as any on a Blood Angel vessel, with red velvet carpet inlaid with gold thread sitting neatly on the flooring, muffling Fortunus’ steps even more than his plate's own muffling abilities. While the old battle banners hung at identical intervals swayed through the recycling air, all of them earned in the vessel's long history serving the Chapter. Fortunately, the bridge had been spared of damage and kept morale high despite the violent deaths of the bridge officers who had been driven mad by whispering voices in their heads. Many of whom had been put down by Fortunus himself, who had been present on the bridge during the ill-fated warp jump. But one had stood unshaken among them and even aided the sergeants cull, Captain Adrian. A veteran of the Chapter, albeit mortal but nonetheless respected throughout the Blood Angels. He stood besides Fortunus’ dark oak command throne, his Captains garb, professional and well kept. If he hadn’t been present during the hellish jump through the warp, Fortunus would have sworn he hadn’t gone through such a trial untouched , such was his composure. 

 

‘My lord,’ he bowed deeply. His silver hair presented on a stern but noble face that burgeoned with experience.

‘Adrian, my friend.’ Fortunus placed a gauntleted hand on the mortal man's shoulder in a sign of friendship. ‘I’ve told you before, there is no need to call me ‘lord’, we have known each other too long for such formalities.’

‘I’m sorry, lord but I fear I am unable, the Chapter indoctrinated me too well’ Adrian replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

‘Of course, you say that every time,’ Fortunus grinned back, his face as beautiful as a sunrise. His skin was pale but healthy with bright blue orbs that shone with nothing but compassion. While sat atop his head, blonde hair, long for Astartes, waved softly on his head. ‘I have called a meeting, Captain. My brothers will be joining us shortly, after they complete their sweeps of Bleeding Edge’s decks. We will need to discuss our next move,’ Fortunus said, as he turned to gaze outside the observation portal that stood directly in front of his command throne.

‘Of course, my lord. I will prepare the strategium for you.’ Adrian joined the sergeant. His smaller frame dwarfed by Fortunus’ despite his relatively giant stature for a mortal. 

‘Also, have we been able to determine our position yet? And what does the navigator have to say about the warps conditions?’ Fortunus questioned idly, knowing nothing would have changed, if the Captain hadn’t contacted him earlier. But it was still good to keep the routine, their exposed state was not the time to become slack in their duties.

‘The Navigator says the warp is in turmoil, more so than usual and that her vision is limited to such a degree that she would argue against performing a jump at this moment,’

‘Nothing new there,’ The sergeant said dismissively.

Continuing, the Captain finished his report. ‘And we have been mildly successful in our determination of our location, lord.’ Now this surprised Fortunus, an arched eyebrow conveying it on his face. ‘We have determined that we currently are waylaid near the Somnium Stars.’

‘The Somnium Stars?’ Fortunus said, more than surprised now. ‘We are not too far from Baal then, Adrian.’

‘Aye my lord, but we are deep within known enemy territory.’

‘Aren’t we always?’ Fortunus smiled again, white teeth beaming. ‘But tell me, my friend, which of the Imperiums many enemies are we to face here?’

‘The Necr-’ The Captain was cut off as alert sirens began wailing their calls and red light flooded the bridge's interior.

‘What is it?’ Fortunus asked, trusting someone aboard knew.

‘A proximity alarm, lord!’ A serf called back, huddled in his station.

‘What triggered it?’ Adrian yelled.

‘I think I can guess that one, my friend.’ Fortunus answered as he saw an absolutely mountainous torus like shape pass in front of the observation port window.

‘Necrons,’ the Captain growled. The machine Xenos horrors had been responsible for his augmented leg that had been atomised by those deadly green beams.

Opening a vox-link, while shouldering his Bolter and checking his ammunition, Sergeant Fortunus announced the Xenos’ presence. ‘This is Sergeant Fortunus, we have a Xenos contact present. Prepare yourselves to repel boarders. For the Emperor and Sanguinius!’ His voice boomed across the decks of the Bleeding Edge.

‘Brother! What foul Xenos dares board a Blood Angels vessel?’ Darius’ voice rang over the link, menace colouring his tone.

‘Necrons, brother. They will be aboard soon. Prepare yourselves, I do not doubt they have numbers, if the ship size is anything to go by.’ He said, knowing the others were listening. ‘Do not limit yourselves, brothers. They are slow so keep moving and make sure you kill them before they phase out. This is a foe we have faced before, remember their weaknesses and exploit them. Regroup on the bridge if possible.’ He closed the link, knowing each of his brothers would be readying themselves for the coming battle. On the bridge, crewmen grabbed weapons and took shelter behind their stations and makeshift barriers. While the security team he had seen outside secured the bulkhead, making sure nothing would get into the bridge. A futile act, but Fortunus wasn’t about to tell them that.

 

‘My lord,’ Captain Adrian stood by him, pistol drawn and power sword unsheathed.  ‘If we do not make it through this, I would thank you for your companionship throughout my years and it has been an hon-’ Before he could finish an emerald beam disintegrated his head before Fortunus’ very eyes. In the same moment, the Blood Angel drew his bolter and fired off a bolt into his friend's slayer. It’s skeletal head, blowing clean off its shoulders before falling limp and crashing in a heap of grey metal limbs. But before he could finish it off, another skeletal warrior came, emerald beams slicing through his command throne forcing him to take cover behind it. There were more than a dozen, crowding the bridge. He could hear the telltale thump their metal feet gave as they walked. Fortunus popped off shots as his throne was slowly disintegrated, atom by atom, while the crewmen tried hopelessly to bring the invaders down with their sidearms but such impotent weapons were more or less for looks than actual combat, and they began to die quickly one by one. Soon he was going to be surrounded and Fortunus would have to move fast. So with a flick of his freehand, a fistful of grenades flung into the Necrons midst, their green baleful eyes staring at the metal globes that had rolled into their ranks. Before they detonated, the Sergeant leapt from cover bolter raised, auto fire mode on, filling the air with explosive rounds. Then with a great boom, Necron bodies flew, slamming against the observation port window and bridge walls. He saw some of the grey bodies phase out from extensive damage to their systems. Little scarab like creatures crawling across their metallic skin, reknitting broken cabling and snapped supports. But the others began to rise again and Fortunus launched himself at them with the fury of Sanguinius on his lips and his relic bolter and glowing power sword in hand. He swung and took the head from the first Xenos warrior before reversing his grip and plunging his blade into the neck of the next. Both attacks were perfect and performed with a dancers grace, something Flavius tried to emulate. As a third came on, beam rifle swinging, Fortunus dropped his bolter and drew his Plasma pistol holstered on his hip. Ducking into his attackers' reach, the Sergeant pushed the pistols muzzle against its dull metal cranium and melted its head in a wash of discharging plasma. Then as he turned to engage another, an emerald beam slid through his ceramite plate, clipping his shoulder pauldron and sending him stumbling. Then another caught him on the greave, finally overbalancing Fortunus, making him crash against the velvet carpet, with a muffled ring.

 

As he pushed up to recover himself, Fortunus, felt metal slam against his back. His attacker had swung its massive gauss rifle against his power pack, crushing the ceramite beneath the blow. It nearly caused his power pack to overload and detonate but thankfully the suits machine-spirit felt merciful today. Seeing his assailants legs, Fortunus latched on with his gauntlet and pulled with all his genehanced strength, causing the Necron warrior to stumble and crash into a heap. Instantly he took the advantage he had created and leapt upon the thrashing warrior before drawing his combat knife and stabbing its monomolecular edge between those green lit eyes. Leaving it stuck in his enemies head, Fortunus recovered his bolter and power sword then began spraying the rest of the metal horde that approached him. No one else was left and as he stood there, no cover apparent, no reinforcements approaching and certainly no exit available. Sergeant Nero Fortunus of the Blood Angels Chapter, prepared to meet his Emperor and father with a ferocious battle-cry ‘For the Emperor and Sanguinius!’He roared, dropping his emptied bolter and swinging his power sword in a brutal arc that cut through two of his enemies. But before he could swing again his arm was gripped by a pair of metallic hands that held him in an unyielding embrace and soon after his other arm suffered the same fate and he stood there, restrained by the Necrons like a wild beast ready to be euthanised. Fortunus was certain this was going to be his last moments, but something small popped in his ear, almost like.. no it was impossible but the sergeant could swear it sounded like a voice on his vox-link. He had only a few moments before the Xenos ripped him apart so Fortunus increased the volume in his vox with a blink and what came over the link, gave the Blood Angel a savage grin. ‘Duck,’ the voice of brother Darius came across the open link and instantly Fortunus pulled down with all his might. Then as soon as he was out of the immediate fire arc, a vicious volley of bolter rounds crashed through his oppressors, ripping their skeletons apart with ease.

 

Brother Darius and Mathias advanced into the slagged edges of the bulkhead their krak grenades had melted, bolters spitting holy fire into mankind’s enemies. It was a glorious sight, though the Sergeant would never make such a remark aloud. Quickly, the Blood Angels cleared out the remaining Necron Warriors and hauled their sergeant up. All of their armour was battered and damaged from the gauss beams, but it hadn’t slowed them down from reaching the bridge. ‘Your help is much appreciated, my brothers,’ Fortunus said as he gathered his strewn about weapons.

‘We are glad you yet live, Sergeant,’ Mathias said, composed as ever.

‘An impressive tally, Fortunus.’ Darius remarked on the carcasses the sergeant had made of the Necrons.

‘There will be more, Darius. Of that I can be sure,’ he replied. ‘What of Flavius?’ He asked as he took reloaded his bolter.

‘Alive and leading a running battle throughout the lower levels. A few of the Naval Armsmen are also with him.’ Mathias said levelly.

‘Then we link up with him and try to find the Tech-priest. She will be needed.’ Fortunus said as he strode to the bulkhead.

‘Flavius might have to wait, brother-sergeant,’ Darius said, quickly reloading his bolter. ‘We have company,’ he said before unleashing a hail of fire through the hole, he and Mathias had entered merely moments ago. Without orders needed, Fortunus and Mathias joined their brother, both letting fly with their bolters into the oncoming mass of buzzing scarabs. Hundreds dropped in seconds, then thousands. For a few moments it looked as if they could hold the tide back but with bastard inevitability their ammunition soon ran dry and all three drew side arms and combat knives or swords. Then with the force of a blasting charge, the little grey bodies crashed through the breach and swarmed past the marines, surrounding them in a vortex of metallic bodies. Calmly, the Blood Angels picked targets and shot them from the air with unmatched efficiency until their bolt pistols or in Fortunus’ case, plasma pistol ran dry. With a smooth transition, the brothers dropped their guns and swung with their melee weapons, each slicing or smashing a grey scarab apart. But with every ten they killed two more slashed and stabbed at them, slowly whittling away their protective layer with unsettling ease. Soon enough, brother Darius staggered away from the group, grunting curses as his arms desperately tried prying off the Necron workers. Mathias tried to reach out for his squad brother but Darius’ once red form was covered in grey and he crumpled to the ground with nothing but broken pieces of armour left for his legacy. Sergeant Fortunus saw the Blood Angels normally serene face screw up into the face of a monster; his canines lengthening, rage spreading across his angelic features and a beastial hunch contorting his body. Fortunus knew what was happening, just like all of those of the Blood and wasn’t surprised in the least that Darius' demise had broken the barrier the Blood Angel had erected to guard against their flaws. They had been real blood brothers, after all. ‘Mathais!’ the Sergeant roared over the deafening buzz, still swiping the scarabs away with his power sword. He saw the marine hadn’t heard him but instead Mathais began ripping and tearing scarabs limb from limb with a monster's fury, killing them in droves that piled by his boots. Fortunus tried to yell again but even his enhanced vocals couldn’t breach the din, so the Sergeant surged forth slashing and stabbing, skewering and slicing, his way through the grey bodies towards the other marine before the flaw could take him fully. But for every inch he advanced, the Nercon workers phased ceramite plate until only the bare components underneath were exposed and then bare skin. ‘Brother, heed me!’ The Sergeant roared as the scarabs slashed deep gouges into his body again and again, a familiar copper smell filling his nostrils. ‘Do not give in! Remember your duty, remember your Chapter’ Fortunus saw through blurry and fading vision, Mathais look at him strangely as he continued his onslaught, although his armour was nothing but scrap metal and blood ran in rivers down the marines side, a scarab having scored a lucky slash through the ceramite into Mathais’ soft tissue underneath. ‘If not that then, remember your brothers! We need you!’ Fortunus roared with a final cut of his power sword as he stumbled onto the cold decking, his body finally succumbing to the chasmic cuts punctuating his flesh. The last he saw of Mathais through his blackening vision, was his form crashing to a knee and cerulean streaks slamming into the horde that ran rampant atop the Blood Angels. Then just before the abyss took him, a voice, one he wasn’t familiar with boomed across the bridge, powerful and sonorous. ‘Get those two, we need them alive.’

 

 

  

Edited August 9, 2020 by Babu Dhakal