StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Well, here's a little 40K thing I churned out in the past few days. Let me know how you like it...

+++ASTROPATHIC COMMUNIQUE+++
+++CLASSIFICATION: MOST SECRET OMEGA+++
+++SOURCE: SEGMENTUM OBSCURUS+++
+++SENT BY: INQUISITOR MAAREK, ORDO MALLEUS+++
+++RECEIVED BY: ASTROPATHICUS SECUNDUS MAHREST+++
+++FORWARDED TO: LORD INQUISITOR EZEKYLUS OF MALLEUS+++
+++SUBJECT: HULK EJECTED FROM WARP DATED M31.432.654 (REF COMMUNIQUE OF M41.987.432)+++
+++COMMUNIQUE BEGINS+++

My Lord Inquisitor:
As per your instructions, I investigated this hulk after passing the date of its absence to you. We ascertained from identifying features and the vessel’s build that it is a Sceptre-class destroyer, allied with the 42nd Campaign of the Great Crusade, in which the Legiones Astartes chapters Blood Angels, Luna Wolves, Imperial Fists, Emperor’s Children, and Iron Warriors participated. As you know, my lord, a fair portion of Segmentum Obscurus was conquered during this particular campaign.
Further, this vessel was positively identified as the Sagittar, a vessel aligned with the Luna Wolves’ portion of the campaign fleet; it was reported lost just before the end of the 42nd Campaign.
The particulars have been lost, but we believe this craft was carrying a contingent of Luna Wolves; two squads of Second Company’s Astartes, and Brother-Lieutenant Mattathias, interred in a Dreadnought sacrophagus—indeed, one of the first to be so honoured in the history of the Adeptus Astartes.
Per standard procedure, I shall detail a squad of Grey Knights to accompany me in the boarding and further investigation of this hulk, as I have firm reason to believe the heresy may have taken root in this craft; even more so as it has resided in the Immaterium for so long. As my lord will know, the Luna Wolves were one of the first Legions to fall, immediately after they assumed the name ‘Sons of [expurgated]’.
In the Name of the Immortal God-Emperor, we shall either reclaim this craft for the Imperium or it shall be destroyed in the name of the Emperor.
Ave Imperator!
Jephosephat Maarek

+++COMMUNIQUE ENDS+++

Atmosphere hissed into the void-lock as the outer portal sealed behind the silver-armoured giants. Justiciar Thasis’ Nemesis sword hissed to life, its silver blade shimmering as psychic power flowed through it; Eleazar’s axe, Alcimus and Ismail’s halberds did the same. With a quiet gesture from Thasis, Avaran took point, the hissing pilot-flame of his incinerator illuminating the dark hallway.

Their soles magnetized, the Grey Knights advanced silently, the quiet whooshing of their void-sealed suits the only sound in the craft. Outside, connected by a careful umbilical, their shuttle contained Inquisitor Maarek; further, a strike cruiser from the XV Obscurus Fleet hovered in the void, all guns trained upon the Sagittar.

They had begun their search in the bridge; none remained alive there. Bulkheads had been sealed tight; and as they opened up the craft, they saw why. The ship’s Navigator had been attacked by a warp-spawned creature, and panels of the chamber floated about, scratched and gouged, blood-splattered. Of the creature little remained; frozen ichor on the walls, a decayed skull, some withered flesh. The bridge crew and the Navigator weren’t much luckier, either.

Sealing the bridge doors behind them, they advanced further into the ship. Quarters were empty; the crew quarters likewise were abandoned. The hangar bay had two Thunderhawks and an assortment of drop-pods, as well as a few atmospheric shuttles and lighters; that was it. All were in fine condition, albeit needing some unguents.

Moving ever further to the stern of the ship, Justiciar Thasis paused. Lifting his helmeted head, the icy blue of his helmet’s eyes probed the craft; his minor psychic talents searching, he advanced to what seemed to be a featureless wall. Gesturing to the members of his squad, he carefully pulled a lever labeled, ‘Hangar Bay Illuminators. May only be activated by a Technician. The Hangar Bay must remain Illuminated that we may work safely. Remember thou—the Emperor loves a faithful labourer, but the lazy man shall be repudiated and turned out into the void.’
The lever finally clinked to a stop; and the wall hissed upwards, scraping against un-oiled runners. A cold blue light shone out from within; Avaran took point, his incinerator to the fore, wary of anything that might burst out…

Tall cylindrical tanks came under their gaze. They were on a catwalk, and tanks lined the walls—above them, besides them, and below. In each, a crewman floated, till they reached the rear banks; in those, unarmoured Astartes were suspended, their massive frames almost pinning them within.

A careful inspection of the auspex confirmed what Thasis suspected—all the crew were dead. Their human physiology could not take the strain of lengthy stasis, and this had indeed been an exceptionally long period. But the Astartes, beyond a few whose cylinders had apparently malfunctioned, were alive. As Thasis stood before one cylinder, contemplating the Marine within, Eleazar plucked his elbow—“Sir? You may want to see this.”
Following, they entered a chamber behind the stasis cylinders, and discovered the control templarium. But beyond that, was a smaller chamber—and within, was another cylinder, this one massive. Inside floated a large adamantium box… and what appeared to be an Astartes within. It was a Dreadnought sarcophagus, of ancient design. Inscribed upon a scroll, floating gently in the stasis fluid, was the name Mattathias.

Baal
Chief Fortress of the Blood Angels
Martial Court Chamber

“It is the declaration of this court that Reclusiarch Judas Maccabeus, Chaplain of the Tears of Sanguinius Chapter, shall be exonerated of complicity in the destruction of his Chapter. It is our assessment that his survival was the will of the Emperor, and as such, he is not guilty of cowardice. Though his men fell about him, we believe that his survival was made possible by the Emperor blinding the greenskins’ eyes; though Maccabeus fell, our reinforcements discovered him alive and unconscious.

“It is this court’s recommendation that Chaplain Maccabeus be given a Letter of Marque. As the gene-seed of his Chapter has been destroyed due to a fusion bomb detonated by the greenskin in the Tears of Sanguinius’ fortress, he is the last survivor of his Chapter. We shall provide him with conveyance to the nearest fortress world, and should he seek to join the Successor Chapters of the Blood Angels, we shall make it known that he has the endorsement of Lord Commander Dante.

“In the name of Sanguinius and the Emperor. Our judgement is made.”

A letter of marque, Judas Maccabeus mused, looking at the parchment in his hand. This would permit him to claim any non-warship vessel under a certain size and go forth to battle, should he wish, or simply voyage about the Imperium. In effect, the Blood Angels were telling him to fuck off and die. He had lost an entire Chapter… a small one, admittedly, but being the only survivor could be painful, in more ways than one…

His black power armour gleaming, the insignia of his office hanging on glittering chains contrasting with the armour, he sat back in his mag-train car taking him to Baal’s spaceport, tapping the scroll upon the window sill. His skull-faced helmet rested on his knee; the calligraphied scrolls that normally hung from his belt, inscribed with prayers to the Emperor and abjurations against His enemies, were neatly rolled up in the trunk that contained his sole physical possessions, all that were left of his Chapter.

A tall but crouched, gaunt man in voluminous robes entered; upon observing the chaplain, he made a deep bow and apologized in sepulchral tones, “Your pardon, Astartes. I am Hammedatha Istvaran. I did not mean to intrude into your car, and I beg your leave to pass through, as I must have firm words with the kitchen staff, whom I believe are behind this car. If you shall excuse me—“

“No, Master Istvaran. If you will tarry a moment, I would ask why you did not mention your occupation?”

Istvaran straightened up from his apparently permanent crouch, and Judas saw his throat working as a subvocalized command was issued. Two men in retainers’ uniforms entered and held up what appeared to be miniature auspexes of strange make, and circuited the car. One nodded to Istvaran, who then gathered his robes and with a nod inquired of the chaplain whether he could sit as his retainers exited.

With a motion of his hand, Judas acquiesced; as the stranger sat down, he rummaged about in the breast of his robes, and extricated a folded leather identification holder, of common make. It was proffered, and flipped open; the insignia within froze the blood within Judas’ veins cold.

“I trust I need not say more. The Hammer needs you, Judas Maccabeus. You are free to decline and use your letter of marque; but we need a chaplain… one who is, preferably, free of his attachments to the Adeptus Astartes. The only allegiance you have now is to the Emperor, Chaplain. Will you serve Him?”

This... is nifty. I like it quite a bit. Do continue.

I will now say that this is really cool, intruiging and requiring more.

Well thanks for the prompt replies

Suggestions? Comments? Speculation?

Is Mister Chaplain going to help these poor bastards? Will these poor bastards be good Marines, loyal to the emperor, or will they be evil little marines, loyal to Horus? Will there be Drama? Will there be singing and dancing?

Intriguing. I look forward to more.

I do find it unlikely that an Astartes would make use of the phrase 'fuck off and die', no matter how appropriate it may be. It's jarring and distracting in an otherwise smooth narrative.

Feil: Possibly jarring, but how else would you put it concisely?

In any case, I've actually completed this fic. It's more or less a short story, about five to six chapters. Each chapter'll be posted as they come along. So, enjoy the next...

++++++++++++++++++

Fortress World of the Inquisition
Location Classified
Somewhere in Segmentum Solar
“Right face! Bolters, up! Safeties, off! Aim! Pray! O Emperor, guide this round to its target, that it may be destroyed in Your Name, amen. Fire!”
The drill, familiar to Maccabeus, issued from the leathery throat of a sergeant at one side of the parade ground as the tearing blasts of bolter fire resounded. Their armour, grey with golden trim, shone as though new under the harsh sunlight of the planet’s sun. All moved with a lithe grace unfamiliar to him, accustomed to the powerful but ungainly armour of the Astartes. He muttered to Istvaran, standing by him, “And you say these are Luna Wolves, of the First Founding? How then did they survive nine thousand years?”

The Inquisitor—Judas shuddered inside at the thought still—frowned and cleared his throat, making his retainers wince at the burst of static that undoubtedly detonated inside their auditory implants. He spoke deliberately, “They were discovered by my… associate, Maarek. A ship had been ejected from the Immaterium—a small destroyer, of the no longer crafted Sceptre class. It was identified and boarded by the Grey Knights, who discovered an ancient hibernation bay, apparently designed for long-term travel through the Empyrean. The crew were dead; but these had survived by the use of their hibernation nodes. They were accompanied by a Dreadnought sacrophagus of ancient design; we have traced records back all the way on Terra to the thirtieth millennium, and in the very beginnings of those records, a Brother-Lieutenant Mattathias is recorded as having been interred in a sacrophagus. We believe this to be the same Mattathias. As for you, Judas-- what do you think of our discovery?"

He muttered darkly, "Children of a lost and damned legion... why should we trust them, Inquisitor?"

With a slight, smug smile on his face, the Inquisitor nodded slowly and motioned for him to follow. Unsure, but unwilling to be left behind, Maccabeus came along...

Inside a deep chamber of the fortress, the heat still beat down despite their being encased behind several layers of stone. The unarmoured Astartes chained to his seat beneath their view sweated not, nor did the hooded men seated on a long bench before him. An unnatural aura surrounded those men, one that sent people's skin crawling and would make any good man think twice about approaching them. With his training by the Ecclesiarchy as a Chaplain, Maccabeus recognized this for what it was-- the taint of the psyker.

A slight scent of ozone permeated the air. The Marine's face began twitching as his hands clenched tight into fists; his seat creaked as adamant muscles strained at their bonds. Suddenly, release came; he relaxed in his seat, and glowered at the Inquisitorial psykers as a pair of Herculean servitors emerged from the barred door behind him and released his bonds. As he stood, he spat something venomous at the psykers, made a paradeground-perfect about-face, and stalked out, batting aside the servitors' clumsy grasp. Maccabeus wondered just what it was he had said so sharply...

The Inquisitor pressed a rune by the side of a vox-grille, and inquired within, "Name of latest subject and verdict?"

The voice, reedy but curiously strong, replied "Sergeant Kuja Trypho, Master. He is free of all taint. Note: He does not like us. So like a blunt..."

"The Astartes had no Librarians or psykers in his time, Majikathaise. And do not address one of his stature by perjoratives, else you are likely to find your cranium extremely depressed via blunt force trauma. Istvaran out."

Turning to Maccabeus, the Inquisitor nodded to the chamber beneath-- another unarmoured Marine being brought in by the security servitors-- and responded quietly, "That is how we know we may trust them. They are children of the damned, yes, but damned themselves they are not..."

The Chaplain grunted disbelief through his death-mask helmet, and said no more; sighing, the Inquisitor nodded towards the door, and they exited.

Inquisitorial Black Ship
Close proximity to the Oculus Horribilis
Training Ground/Hangar Bay
"Attention, all Astartes! Report immediately to the Hangar Bay for briefing!"

The voxcast throughout the ship brought the Marines on the double; ceramite-booted feet clattered over thick deck plates to the broad expanse of the hangar deck, where upon the prow of a Thunderhawk landing ship stood Judas Maccabeus. Hammedatha Istvaran sat cross-legged beside him, robes flowing around his legs and waving gently in the air recyclers' breeze. Squad Sigma-Delta of the Grey Knights-- Justiciar Thasis and Brothers Eleazar, Alcimus, Ismail, and Avaran stood line-abreast before the Thunderhawk, Nemesis weapons at parade-rest across their chests.

The two squads of Luna Wolves that had survived formed sharply delineated lines abreast; nine men and a Sergeant each. Behind them, the clank of heavy feet resounded as a mighty Dreadnought stepped forward between the ranks and came to attention. His deep, gravelly voice rumbled forth-- "Master Chaplain. Inquisitor. Brother Grey Knights. The Luna Wolves stand before you and salute you. We await your orders."

Maccabeus nodded gravely as the Dreadnought's close-combat arm rose up and tapped its chest gently; behind him, bowing their heads, the Marines made the sign of the aquila upon their chests in formal salute. Maccabeus responded likewise, and nodded to Thasis, who stepped forward and barked, "At ease!"

Once the formalities were over, Judas nodded to the Inquisitor, who stood smoothly and began speaking.

"Men of the Luna Wolves. It has been nine thousand years since you entered the Empyrean. Your Lord and Master, your Primarch, turned his back upon the Emperor, and embraced the powers that have since devastated the Imperium of Man. You are the last remaining of your Legion; the children of traitors, of oathbreakers!"

At that last spat word, a quiet, angered whisper rumbled between the Luna Wolves. Maccabeus nodded to Thasis, who whispered into his intersquad vox; the butts of halberds thumped hard into the decking, the loud clank of metal silencing the Marines. Istvaran continued speaking, "They were oathbreakers, yes. But you-- no. Our psykers have ascertained that you are in fact untainted by the powers that corrupted your Legion. Your allegiance is no longer to he who led you eons ago; your allegiance remains as it was always, your first oath unbroken-- that to the Master of Mankind, our Emperor.

"Astartes, here and now you make a choice! Serve the Immortal God-Emperor of Mankind, and redeem your Legion's name, or remain faithful to your Primarch, and break that final oath!"

As one, the Grey Knights powered up their Nemesis weapons. Silence reigned uneasy for a moment.

Then Mattathias rumbled, "Inquisitor, you offend our honour. Our allegiance is not unto traitors. Once, perhaps; but that time is long gone. We have no desire to besmirch our Legion's name further. Knights, ye may unpower your weapons; we shall not fight this day."

Releasing a quiet breath, Judas Maccabeus nodded to Thasis, who barked a brief order and stepped back into line with his men. A pause weighed heavily upon the air; Istvaran finally spoke again.

"Your mission is to enter the Eye of Terror. In there, a daemonworld is believed to be a former Craftworld of the Eldar. Within, according to my most esteemed colleague Czevak, is a highly valuable record of the existing Legions left there by a scouting expedition that was unable to depart the Eye before they were overtaken by Chaos.

"You will board that Craftworld, accompanied by this squad of Grey Knights. Your commander is Reclusiarch Maccabeus here. His word is your command. The Knights answer to none but the Ordo Malleus; Maccabeus has a seal," which he pulled from within his robe and held up, its jewels shimmering, before handing it to the Chaplain and continuing, "which entrusts to him the full rights and authority of the Ordo Malleus."

Blinking behind his helmet mask, Maccabeus realized that he had just become one of the most powerful people in the galaxy. Before he could reflect upon this sudden empowerment, the Inquisitor continued, "You shall recover the record. It is, I believe, in data-slates upon an Imperial landing craft that was ejected from the Inquisitorial ship prior to its destruction. Find this landing craft; place location markers upon it; and we shall send Thunderhawks to retrive you and the data. Whatever you do, do not venture further. The Eldar left many dark ambuscades and evil devices in their Craftworld; and above all, you are in the heart of heresy. Remain faithful to the Emperor, and your faith shall be your shield. Chaplain Maccabeus?"

The black-armoured giant stepped forward, and reviewed a dataslate for a moment before looking up to the ranks before him and curtly ordering, "We deploy in twenty-three hours. Review of arms in twenty-two. Be fully armed and prepared for war. Ave Imperator."

Without prompting, Thasis stepped forward once again and barked, "Dismissed!" before gesturing to his squad and marching away, his men falling in behind him at precise intervals.

T -14.23.08 Hours till Deployment
Hangar Bay
A hand-to-hand combat drill was commencing. The Marines, with their combat knives, were lined up facing their sergeants, who bore chainswords. Nimble feet darted back and forth; a shard of ceramite armour flew, followed abruptly by a hiss of annoyance as the Marine realized Trypho's sword was at his neck, ready to decapitate him, even though his knife had taken a chip out of his sergeant's shoulder plate.

The Grey Knights, helmets removed, stood alongside one of the Thunderhawks, observing and commenting to themselves. Eleazar remarked, "Alcimus? Isn't that a pattern we learned on Titan?"
Alcimus nodded, as Avaran chimed in, "Methinks we may do them a disservice. They have fought in the Great Crusades, after all. Are you so certain their fighting methods are as archaic as you might think?"

"I would be interested to find that out indeed, Brother Avaran," rumbled Mattathias. The squad started and spun around; somehow, he had come across the deck plates without making a sound, though his Dreadnought suit weighed as much as a standard Marine drop-pod... Thasis chuckled, having sat facing them and observed Mattathias coming up behind. He called to the Dreadnought, "Brother-Lieutenant? Would you be interested in some sparring then? I shall give you the advantage... you need it after all, old man" with a grin.

"But of course. These old bones are but a few hundred years in the sacrophagus. I have not slept for nine thousand years in the Empyrean, Justiciar, and forgotten everything I learned as a babe at Sergeant Dalton's knees. Brother Eleazar, may I use your axe? It seems the only thing robust enough for my hand..."
With a nod, Eleazar handed his Nemesis axe-- a rare make of Nemesis weapon, though the Hammer was even rarer-- to Mattathias, and stepped back as Thasis drew his sword. The power weapons hissed on, and Thasis' sword blurred into a silver streak as he entered into an intricate, elaborate combat form.

Abruptly, the sword sparked and clashed to a halt, visibly jarring the Justiciar; it had struck hard against Mattathias' armoured forearm. With a thrust of his arm, the Dreadnought struck him back hard against the Thunderhawk behind, jarring the sword out of his hand. The axe hovered just before Thasis' neck as Mattathias droned, "The quickest path to victory, Justiciar, is doing what needs to be done. Your blade had to be stopped; I stopped it. A scratch to my plating can be repaired. Your neck, however, cannot. My men understand this. Though their fighting may appear archaic to your eyes, they understand the quickest path to victory rests not in speed nor intricacy, but simple economy. Now-- shall we continue sparring, Justiciar?"

"Aye. We shall. And I am Keevan Thasis, Venerable Brother."

With a gravelly chuckle, Mattathias responded, "I am no Venerable, Keevan Thasis. I feel it in my bones when ye use that word. Call me Mattathias, or Brother-Lieutenant if you must be formal. Now-- on your guard!"

T -0.12.34 Hours till Deployment
Hangar Bay
The slide on the Crusade-pattern bolter slapped shut with a metallic snick as Maccabeus formally returned it to its bearer, the last Marine in the review line before him. He strode to the front of the line, and leaped upwards, power armour boosting him to a graceful landing upon the nose of the Thunderhawk. Turning around, he quietly dialed up the vox-boost on his helmet, and began speaking.

"Brother Marines, Brother-Lieutenant, what you shall see beneath only the Grey Knights here and I have seen before. This is the taint of the Ruinious Powers at its mightiest, blended with the unholy xenos-craft of the Eldar. Stand firm. Question not our orders. Sergeants Trypho, Asramel, step forward."

The two did so smoothly; once they were at attention, Maccabeus continued, "You have been briefed upon the specifics of what you may experience?"

They affirmed, and Maccabeus mused to himself that the Inquisition had indeed been thorough-- remarkable considering these men were effectively damned from the moment they exited the Warp...

"Very well. Brother-Lieutenant, I understand you distingushed yourself in sparring with Justiciar Thasis. Your weapon was an axe, was it not?"
"Yes, Chaplain. Brother Eleazar's Nemesis weapon. A worthy blade."

Maccabeus nodded and quietly remarked, "See me after this mission. We have a small armoury here; you are free to select any weapon you desire after I see your performance."

Increasing volume, he snapped out, "Form up and board your landing craft. Brother Mattathias, you will have to use a drop-pod due to your size. Justiciar, your squad shall accompany Trypho's in their Thunderhawk. I shall be with Asramel's. Dismissed!"

Mattathias strode up to his specially crafted Dreadnought drop-pod, and looked it over. "Chaplain, I am not certain I shall fit in this thing..."

"Nonsense, Brother-Lieutenant. I myself have taken drop-pods several times. This shall be no different for you-- more braking rockets perhaps, but aside from that it shall be the same. You shall be taking point, so you will launch simultaneously with the Thunderhawks. Your speed will land you faster than we get there; clear the landing zone if necessary. Understood?"

"Sir." Mattathias turned around, and ponderously, backed up slowly. Watching, Maccabeus lifted his hands and signaled the Dreadnought to a better fit, and once Mattathias was snugly ensonced in the pod, he lifted the detachable doors that protected the interior from re-entry and sealed it tight. As he turned to board his Thunderhawk, he heard the hiss of impact gel filling the pod.

With a mighty blast, the pod was fired through linear acceleration motors, aimed directly at the Craftworld of Yghe'unusu below. Engines roaring in the confines of the hangar were suddenly silenced as the Thunderhawks entered void and followed the pod down.

The dome above the Craftworld's towers was suddenly cracked, and a hole punched through; wraithbone towers shattered as the drop-pod crashed through. The doors petaled open, and Mattathias charged forth, his fist crackling with energy. His body did a complete revolution around his waist, and with a click over the voxchannels he acknowledged the LZ was safe. Within moments, the landing craft growled to a stop. The front hatches fell open, and the Luna Wolves charged into combat for the first time in nine millennia.

Loyalist Luna Wolves. My my. And I thought my Iron Warriors civil war was alone.

I missed this inititially because of a short hiatus from the board. You know, I once had an idea like this, but with World Eaters instead of Luna Wolves, never went anywhere with it though...

Good shit.

Nit: Wait till you see who come up at the end...

Kuj: You didn't 'miss' anything, I only posted the first chapter yesterday

Thanks for the responses and I'll be dropping the third chapter in tomorrow...

I seriously don't think I've had an image quite as cool as a Dreadnaught sparring with an axe. That's actually really cool.

Thanks Fordy...

Third chapter! Shortie, but goodie...

+++++++++++++++++

Judas Maccabeus, a jump-pack strapped firmly onto his armour, stepped forward and called to Asramel, "Move forward, sergeant. I shall be in the lead.If you lose touch with me, Justiciar Thasis is next, and then Mattathias. Understand?"

Receiving affirmation, he relayed the same message to Trypho, and then put his feet together, engaged a control on his gauntlet, and soared upwards as shadows writhed between the buildings. Crozius glittering in the darkness, he engaged his Rosarius' energy field and launched himself forward. Behind him, the Luna Wolves moved forward section by section, led by Mattathias and Thasis.

The Grey Knights' Nemesis weapons hissed, powered up and ready for action. Stormbolters at the ready, they advanced carefully, the writhing light of the Eye of Terror penetrated by the sanctified glower of their icy blue eyepieces. Behind them, the Luna Wolves advanced carefully, their older sensors finding more difficulty penetrating the gloom of the craftworld's streets. Things moved through the shadows; phantasmagorical unlight snarled and slavered in the corners, and somewhere, something gibbered insanely. Wraithbone buildings either stood proud, but were cracked and bedaubed with foul sigils, or were gruesomely melted and mutated into some unrecognizable form, screaming faces apparently being a favorite-- though they were indistingushable from human or Eldar visages...

Maccabeus shook his head sharply-- he'd almost been distracted by something in the shadows. Alighting upon the top of a cracked tower, he consulted the auspex hanging from his belt; his men were some distance behind. He decided he might as well return, and check that the route was safe; the crashed dropship with the data was visible to him from where he was, so it couldn't be that far. Leaping off the building into the darkness below, his jump-pack fired and pushed him towards his men... and then an enormous thump upon his shoulder knocked him into a spin, crashing through a building below. Pulling himself out of the wreckage, he checked-- scars through the winged-skull shoulder plate... lightning claws? But the auspex had recorded nobody... Emperor's blood, I'm a fool! he thought, I'm right in the middle of the Eye of Terror, I'm not going to get results from my auspex if they don't want it to!

Behind him, the Grey Knights stiffened at the crash; and then Thasis was sent bowling over into the second section of Trypho's squad, sending them tumbling. A blur charged through, manical laughter echoing off the buildings, and one of the Marines was dragged upwards into the darkness, dropping his rocket launcher, bellowing in anger and reaching down to draw his knife as bolter fire crashed and ripped through the air.

Silence returned, and as Thasis straightened up something thumped him on the shoulder; he spun around, and a helmeted head rolled on the ground-- the unlucky Marine who had been abducted. He dimly recalled his name had been... Prefect? Ford Prefect? Something like that... And then the rest of the body crashed down, a beast landing atop it.

Nemesis weapons crackled through the air, met by the sinister crackle of a pair of lightning claws; a clawed foot lashed out and struck Eleazar in the chest, flinging him backwards, as Alcimus stabbed forward with his halberd, only to find himself disarmed and sent tumbling. Mattathias roared, charged forward and sent the other Grey Knights tumbling as he backhanded the Traitor Marine across the courtyard and through a decaying wraithbone wall.

An angry scream, amplified to insane heights, bellowed forth as the Chaos Raptor struck through the upper floors and wall, and landed on the building behind them, then stooped and dove directly at Mattathias, lightning claws crackling as assault cannon shells ripped the air about him...

Rammed out of the air by a black streak! Judas Maccabeus swung his hand back, and his Crozius ripped through the air, shattering the Raptor's arm. Bellowing in anger, he flung the Raptor downwards, and dived feet-first afterwards, determined to crush him through the very Craftworld if he must...

A last-minute ignition of the corrupted jump pack, and Maccabeus was the only one who impacted the street, a shockwave rolling out and quaking the area. Stunned, he slumped, and the Raptor screeched as he swung his remaining arm at Maccabeus' head.

Trypho shouted, "No! Thrice-damned traitor and oathbreaker, no!" and swung his chainsword, hacking through the jump pack. Hissing in pain as it spurted black grease as though it was bleeding, the Raptor swung its claws at him instead. They sparked as they met the chainsword, and with a hissing crackle went completely through it; razor-sharp shards flew, the remains of the blade, and Trypho leaped backwards as the very tips of the claws scored his chest deeply. He shouted, leaped forward once again and tackled the Raptor, bowling him over through another wall as the other Marines charged forward, drawing knives, hungry for blood to avenge their comrade...

"HALT!" Maccabeus bellowed, reaching out and flinging two aside, jumping up to Trypho's side. His hand reaching down to grab the collar of Trypho's armour, he paused as the Raptor hissed some words.

"Kuj...? Kuja, is that you?"

Though Trypho wore a helmet, the sudden set of his shoulders told
Maccabeus he'd just gotten a shock. When he heard Trypho's words, that confirmed it-- "Cyran? It can't be..."

"Ahh, old friend, where have you been? You do know about the whole fracas that got me where I am now, eh?"

Maccabeus shouted, "Don't listen to him, Sergeant! That's an order!"

Trypho jerked, straightened up and coldly stated, "Chaplain, I knew this... oathbreaker when I was in Tenth Company. He was one of the Assault troopers then. Beg leave to deal with this traitor?"

Maccabeus froze-- he hadn't expected this. To think that a Traitor Marine would still be alive after so long, much less actually know one of his Luna Wolves...

This whole story is basically all about "Good News, Bad News". Like when the Luna Wolves first woke up it would have been something like.

Imperial Inquisitor: Good morning! I have good news and bad news for you. The good news is that you're alive! The bad news is that you've been in stasis for the past 10000 years. And in that time your entire Legion turned traitor. And damned near killed the Emperor, leaving him in a coma for the majority of the time you've been out. And anyone you knew who isn't dead now has a shoot on sight order on his head. Oh, and to prove your loyalty we're sending you on a suicide mission. Yeah, that about sums about the bad news. At least you're alive though.

And then for poor Chaos Raptor Kuja its like "Good news! One of your buddies you thought ten thousand years dead is in fact alive. Bad news is that he's still a loyalist and he's probably going to kill you."

Hell, you need them to be put under the command of an old, semi-senile genius who can give them missions by coming into the room saying, "Good news everyone!"

Oooh, loved the combat, and the whole "I know this man ... let me deal with him" bit is great.

Ford Prefect wrote:Oooh, loved the combat, and the whole "I know this man ... let me deal with him" bit is great.

Note the reference to yourself?

Elheru Aran wrote: Note the reference to yourself?

It's the first time I've ever been decapitated in fiction; quite ironically by a Raptor, which is what I am in Kuja's The Chaos Dozen.

Ford Prefect wrote:

Elheru Aran wrote: Note the reference to yourself?

It's the first time I've ever been decapitated in fiction; quite ironically by a Raptor, which is what I am in Kuja's The Chaos Dozen.

Heh, the irony was unintentional though, but your Raptor character did inspire my tossing one into the tale. And of course Cyran and Kuj...

Hmm, it's kinda like an Astartes version of The Last Chancers.

Nifty

*cracks fingers* Illustrations!

Judas Maccabeus with his jump-pack:



Sergeant Galkin Asramel:


Ford Prefect's the guy with the rocket launcher, and Dartgale (you haven't met him yet but he's in the next installment) on the right:


Be thou illuminated! *aquila*

Judas is hardcore lookin'; Chaplains often can do, but this is oneo f the better ones I've seen.

Ford Prefect wrote:Judas is hardcore lookin'; Chaplains often can do, but this is oneo f the better ones I've seen.

Thanks. More pictures of him in G&C, in the 40K thread.

Elheru Aran wrote:Nit: Wait till you see who come up at the end...

If you've a mind to, anything I've created can be used. I trust you to use it well.

SirNitram wrote:

Elheru Aran wrote:Nit: Wait till you see who come up at the end...

If you've a mind to, anything I've created can be used. I trust you to use it well.

I actually didn't use your Iron Warriors idea, but I *did* use Iron Warriors... just think of what they were doing pre-Heresy and you'll have an inkling of what might be involved in the final chapter of this tale.

Thanks for the endorsement, though. I appreciate it.

You do realise that, by posting in such rapid succession, you've spoiled us?

Lonestar wrote:You do realise that, by posting in such rapid succession, you've spoiled us?

Don't worry, my USB key got left at my uncle's... I won't be able to post till I get it back. You have plenty of time to discuss, I assure you