Heretic's Redemption (40K Short; Completed)
Moderator: LadyTevar
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Elheru Aran
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 13073
- Joined: 2004-03-04 01:15am
- Location: Georgia
-
Elheru Aran
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 13073
- Joined: 2004-03-04 01:15am
- Location: Georgia
FINALLY got my USB drive back! And updates ensue...
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Justiciar Thasis roughly pushed through the Marines, and pushed Maccabeus and Trypho aside. Leveling his gauntlet-mounted stormbolter, he cleared his throat and roughly stated, "In the name of the Immortal Emperor of Mankind, you are declared Traitor and Heretic, guilty of consorting with the Ruinious Powers, and sentenced to death." The stormbolter barked. In the silence that followed, a pair of shell casings rattled upon the rubble.
Turning around, he quietly told Maccabeus, "You would've had to do it anyway. Better this way," and issued orders. His Grey Knights regrouped and lined up, ready to move out, without looking back. Judas scowled beneath his faceplate-- he and Thasis would have words later-- but grudingly he told his men to form up and move out. This time, he walked.
They got to the crashed dropship without too much trouble. It was an Arvus lighter, to be precise, a small craft for cargo and personnel transit between surface and ship. Asramel reached around and unslung the radio location marker from his back; setting it up atop the lighter, he intoned the ritual of activation in the mechanical tones of his augmented jaw-- "In the Ominissiah's Name, holy Machine, this rune I press; and this after. Machine, feel the ether within warm; and thus do I turn this dial so, that you shall broadcast your message without interruption. And now shalt I connect thee to the power supply, that you may feed and be sustained for as long as we may need you. Machine, we thank you for your service" and he completed with a short bow.
Maccabeus remarked, "I didn't know you were a tech-adept, Galkin."
Asramel shrugged and responded, "One learnt more back then. We didn't have techpriests around to do everything..."
Trypho nodded, and one of the other Marines-- Maccabeus couldn't recall his name, something like Dartgale-- remarked, "There was that time we gave the Ship's Enginseer a fit by welding a pair of heavy bolters together on one of the Guards' Sentinels..."
Thasis growled across the squad voxnet, "Look sharp. Cut the chatter. Mattathias, you are in contact with the Thunderhawks?"
"Hold on... Yes. They are coming. We need to clear the landing zone. I advise everybody in my front arc to kiss the ground."
Maccabeus paused, confused by the colloquialism, and then as Mattathias' assault cannon began spinning, realized what he meant and dived. The tearing rattle of fire resounded for a moment as the Dreadnought's body swiveled, firing into the buildings before him, blowing through walls and weakening the structure. Shell casings clattered, and charging forward, plowing through buildings and leaving enormous holes in the walls,
Mattathias bellowed as he came through the last wraithbone wall and spun, punching the base of an Eldar statue covered in odious growths. The base shattered, and slowly, the statue fell, impacting hard upon the building behind Mattathias. A slow rumble, and the ground shook for a moment.
When the wraithbone dust cleared, Mattathias calmly remarked (insasmuch as it was possible for a Dreadnought to 'remark'), "I advise whomever has the flares to set them out. We do not desire the Thunderhawks to land atop us, do we?" Hurriedly two of the Marines complied, setting out a few indanescent blue flares around their perimeter; with a chest-rattling roar, the landing craft came down, hatches open. Slinging bolters, the Luna Wolves came together around the lighter, and with a grunt, their power-augmented muscles lifted the lighter together and shoved it into one of the gunships, one squad leaping in behind and the others piling into the second.
Maccabeus realized there was no third craft for the Dreadnought-- clicking to the pilots' channel, he told them to go and drop the Marines off, return for him and Mattathias. The Dreadnought said nothing as the Thunderhawks lifted off, but Maccabeus knew he'd heard. A slow, uneasy silence came upon them as they watched the landing craft jet off and then switch to rocket mode for the cruise up to the ship above.
Eventually Mattathias whispered-- though small stones still quivered on the ground nearby-- "Brother Chaplain?"
"Yes, Mattathias?"
"I had heard you were the only one left of your Chapter. How is this possible? Should you not have held out to the last man?"
With a harsh laugh, Maccabeus shook his head. Looking up at the Dreadnought's armoured shell, he responded, "That's exactly what we did. I'm the last man."
A deep rumble within Mattathias' chest was the response to that. Eventually, quietly he inquired, "Tell me about your Chapter. Where it was, what you did?"
"Well. We are-- were... a Third Founding successor chapter of the Blood Angels. Created by order of the Lord Commander Astvalon, Dante's predecessor. We were named after the insigna of our Primarch Sanguinius, a black teardrop on a red field."
Falling silent, Maccabeus searched his memory. Mattathias spoke up, contemplatively-- "I once saw Sanguinius."
Looking up sharply at him, the question was apparent on Maccabeus' demeanour. Continuing, Mattathias spoke, "It was at a great assembly of the Blood Angels, Luna Wolves and Iron Warriors. Pertuabo, Lupercal and Sanguinius were there. Pertuabo and our Primarch simply walked onto the stage-- but Sanguinius... he flew. From the shoulder of a mighty Imperator Titan standing behind us, he spread his wings, like a mighty eagle, and his golden armour shining in the sun. He looked like a God, standing there. And then he leaped, and dove-- stooped right down, and his wings snapped open just before he would have struck those men. Flying on, close enough that any one could have reached upwards and touched him-- and indeed, many tried. He was... breathtaking. I think, had he chosen, he could have had our allegiance upon the spot right there. Ah well-- our hearts belonged to the Emperor, our fists to Horus and the Legion..."
As the Dreadnought's rumble trailed off, sounding slightly bitter at the last part, Maccabeus reached back and rubbed his shoulders. They had been feeling slightly sensitive lately... He nodded, and continued, "My Chapter was a small one. The genetors of the Blood Angels were very precise, very careful about their work. You are familar with the curse of the Black Rage, Mattathias? It has been the bane of the Blood Angels for uncounted generations. The apothecaries, then, were striving to find a way to remove it from the geneseed-- and they thought, with us, they had succeeded. Not one of our men ever fell to the Black Rage. No... it took a plague of Orks."
Drawing his ornately decorated, gold-chased boltpistol, he showed it to the Dreadnought-- "That was Chapter Master Tahalshia's pistol. Just before he fell on the walls of our fortress, he gave it to me, and told me to keep Sanguinius' memory alive. I took it, bowed, and used my jump-pack. Moments after, a mighty greenskin came over the wall and attacked him; the last I saw, he was swinging his blade high as they charged each other. Later that day, the sappers made their way into the fortress, found our geneseed storage, and piled many mighty explosives around it-- I suppose the beasts were wanting to crack it open. Well, that they did... I live now, I know not why, the last alive of the Tears of Sanguinius."
Mattathias nodded, and rumbled quietly, "They are about us. You might want to pick up your Crozius. I have never fought alongside a Chaplain, and it would be a honour, Judas Maccabeus."
Knowing the extra power of Mattathias' sensor suites, he nodded and reached up, gripped a plate of the Dreadnought's front armour. Turning around as his Crozius crackled, manical laughter began resounding off the buildings around as dark forms writhed across the stained wraithbone. Sibliant voices hissed, "Oo, the little priest and his machine... we do not fear you, little one... You should fear US..."
With a bellow, Maccabeus leaped, jump-pack igniting and propelling him suddenly high as snarling Raptors tore through the air beneath him, caught wrong-footed by his sudden move. He looped and dove, grabbing two as he descended. Softening the impact of his landing with those two Raptors-- crushing them in the process-- he drew his boltpistol and began blasting at the shifting shadows. Mattathias, meanwhile, spun up his assault cannon and sent a stream of fire crashing through the Raptors that he could perceive; one stooped at him, coming out of the darkness like a hawk, only to meet his fist halfway.
The Dreadnought crushed it, and flung it at another, who dodged it easily... right into a blast of cannon fire. Vengeful wailing echoed as the shocked remainder retreated into the buildings; and a Thunderhawk threw up dust as it settled down behind them.
+++++++++++++
Justiciar Thasis roughly pushed through the Marines, and pushed Maccabeus and Trypho aside. Leveling his gauntlet-mounted stormbolter, he cleared his throat and roughly stated, "In the name of the Immortal Emperor of Mankind, you are declared Traitor and Heretic, guilty of consorting with the Ruinious Powers, and sentenced to death." The stormbolter barked. In the silence that followed, a pair of shell casings rattled upon the rubble.
Turning around, he quietly told Maccabeus, "You would've had to do it anyway. Better this way," and issued orders. His Grey Knights regrouped and lined up, ready to move out, without looking back. Judas scowled beneath his faceplate-- he and Thasis would have words later-- but grudingly he told his men to form up and move out. This time, he walked.
They got to the crashed dropship without too much trouble. It was an Arvus lighter, to be precise, a small craft for cargo and personnel transit between surface and ship. Asramel reached around and unslung the radio location marker from his back; setting it up atop the lighter, he intoned the ritual of activation in the mechanical tones of his augmented jaw-- "In the Ominissiah's Name, holy Machine, this rune I press; and this after. Machine, feel the ether within warm; and thus do I turn this dial so, that you shall broadcast your message without interruption. And now shalt I connect thee to the power supply, that you may feed and be sustained for as long as we may need you. Machine, we thank you for your service" and he completed with a short bow.
Maccabeus remarked, "I didn't know you were a tech-adept, Galkin."
Asramel shrugged and responded, "One learnt more back then. We didn't have techpriests around to do everything..."
Trypho nodded, and one of the other Marines-- Maccabeus couldn't recall his name, something like Dartgale-- remarked, "There was that time we gave the Ship's Enginseer a fit by welding a pair of heavy bolters together on one of the Guards' Sentinels..."
Thasis growled across the squad voxnet, "Look sharp. Cut the chatter. Mattathias, you are in contact with the Thunderhawks?"
"Hold on... Yes. They are coming. We need to clear the landing zone. I advise everybody in my front arc to kiss the ground."
Maccabeus paused, confused by the colloquialism, and then as Mattathias' assault cannon began spinning, realized what he meant and dived. The tearing rattle of fire resounded for a moment as the Dreadnought's body swiveled, firing into the buildings before him, blowing through walls and weakening the structure. Shell casings clattered, and charging forward, plowing through buildings and leaving enormous holes in the walls,
Mattathias bellowed as he came through the last wraithbone wall and spun, punching the base of an Eldar statue covered in odious growths. The base shattered, and slowly, the statue fell, impacting hard upon the building behind Mattathias. A slow rumble, and the ground shook for a moment.
When the wraithbone dust cleared, Mattathias calmly remarked (insasmuch as it was possible for a Dreadnought to 'remark'), "I advise whomever has the flares to set them out. We do not desire the Thunderhawks to land atop us, do we?" Hurriedly two of the Marines complied, setting out a few indanescent blue flares around their perimeter; with a chest-rattling roar, the landing craft came down, hatches open. Slinging bolters, the Luna Wolves came together around the lighter, and with a grunt, their power-augmented muscles lifted the lighter together and shoved it into one of the gunships, one squad leaping in behind and the others piling into the second.
Maccabeus realized there was no third craft for the Dreadnought-- clicking to the pilots' channel, he told them to go and drop the Marines off, return for him and Mattathias. The Dreadnought said nothing as the Thunderhawks lifted off, but Maccabeus knew he'd heard. A slow, uneasy silence came upon them as they watched the landing craft jet off and then switch to rocket mode for the cruise up to the ship above.
Eventually Mattathias whispered-- though small stones still quivered on the ground nearby-- "Brother Chaplain?"
"Yes, Mattathias?"
"I had heard you were the only one left of your Chapter. How is this possible? Should you not have held out to the last man?"
With a harsh laugh, Maccabeus shook his head. Looking up at the Dreadnought's armoured shell, he responded, "That's exactly what we did. I'm the last man."
A deep rumble within Mattathias' chest was the response to that. Eventually, quietly he inquired, "Tell me about your Chapter. Where it was, what you did?"
"Well. We are-- were... a Third Founding successor chapter of the Blood Angels. Created by order of the Lord Commander Astvalon, Dante's predecessor. We were named after the insigna of our Primarch Sanguinius, a black teardrop on a red field."
Falling silent, Maccabeus searched his memory. Mattathias spoke up, contemplatively-- "I once saw Sanguinius."
Looking up sharply at him, the question was apparent on Maccabeus' demeanour. Continuing, Mattathias spoke, "It was at a great assembly of the Blood Angels, Luna Wolves and Iron Warriors. Pertuabo, Lupercal and Sanguinius were there. Pertuabo and our Primarch simply walked onto the stage-- but Sanguinius... he flew. From the shoulder of a mighty Imperator Titan standing behind us, he spread his wings, like a mighty eagle, and his golden armour shining in the sun. He looked like a God, standing there. And then he leaped, and dove-- stooped right down, and his wings snapped open just before he would have struck those men. Flying on, close enough that any one could have reached upwards and touched him-- and indeed, many tried. He was... breathtaking. I think, had he chosen, he could have had our allegiance upon the spot right there. Ah well-- our hearts belonged to the Emperor, our fists to Horus and the Legion..."
As the Dreadnought's rumble trailed off, sounding slightly bitter at the last part, Maccabeus reached back and rubbed his shoulders. They had been feeling slightly sensitive lately... He nodded, and continued, "My Chapter was a small one. The genetors of the Blood Angels were very precise, very careful about their work. You are familar with the curse of the Black Rage, Mattathias? It has been the bane of the Blood Angels for uncounted generations. The apothecaries, then, were striving to find a way to remove it from the geneseed-- and they thought, with us, they had succeeded. Not one of our men ever fell to the Black Rage. No... it took a plague of Orks."
Drawing his ornately decorated, gold-chased boltpistol, he showed it to the Dreadnought-- "That was Chapter Master Tahalshia's pistol. Just before he fell on the walls of our fortress, he gave it to me, and told me to keep Sanguinius' memory alive. I took it, bowed, and used my jump-pack. Moments after, a mighty greenskin came over the wall and attacked him; the last I saw, he was swinging his blade high as they charged each other. Later that day, the sappers made their way into the fortress, found our geneseed storage, and piled many mighty explosives around it-- I suppose the beasts were wanting to crack it open. Well, that they did... I live now, I know not why, the last alive of the Tears of Sanguinius."
Mattathias nodded, and rumbled quietly, "They are about us. You might want to pick up your Crozius. I have never fought alongside a Chaplain, and it would be a honour, Judas Maccabeus."
Knowing the extra power of Mattathias' sensor suites, he nodded and reached up, gripped a plate of the Dreadnought's front armour. Turning around as his Crozius crackled, manical laughter began resounding off the buildings around as dark forms writhed across the stained wraithbone. Sibliant voices hissed, "Oo, the little priest and his machine... we do not fear you, little one... You should fear US..."
With a bellow, Maccabeus leaped, jump-pack igniting and propelling him suddenly high as snarling Raptors tore through the air beneath him, caught wrong-footed by his sudden move. He looped and dove, grabbing two as he descended. Softening the impact of his landing with those two Raptors-- crushing them in the process-- he drew his boltpistol and began blasting at the shifting shadows. Mattathias, meanwhile, spun up his assault cannon and sent a stream of fire crashing through the Raptors that he could perceive; one stooped at him, coming out of the darkness like a hawk, only to meet his fist halfway.
The Dreadnought crushed it, and flung it at another, who dodged it easily... right into a blast of cannon fire. Vengeful wailing echoed as the shocked remainder retreated into the buildings; and a Thunderhawk threw up dust as it settled down behind them.
It's a strange world. Let's keep it that way.
Master Tahalshia, hmm?
Me: Nope, that's why I have you around to tell me.
Nitram: You -are- beautiful. Anyone tries to tell you otherwise kill them.
"A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" -- Leonard Nimoy, last Tweet
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Ford Prefect
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 8254
- Joined: 2005-05-16 04:08am
- Location: The real number domain
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Elheru Aran
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 13073
- Joined: 2004-03-04 01:15am
- Location: Georgia
-
Elheru Aran
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 13073
- Joined: 2004-03-04 01:15am
- Location: Georgia
And it's Chapter 5 time!
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Three Days Later
The Empyrean, en route to another location in the Oculus Horribilis
Chaplain Maccabeus, his robes billowing, swung his staff, the hardwood blurring as it came directly at Trypho's head. The sergeant dodged it easily, and flicked out his own in a stroke that would've crushed an ordinary man's ribs but sent Maccabeus into the padded wall beside. Bouncing off and tucking into a forward roll, he lashed out his feet at Trypho, wrapped his legs around the sergeant's waist, and tumbled him down onto the floor. A bell struck, and the light above the door turned green. They got up, panting slightly, and bowed to each other as two Marines walked in, their turn for unarmed combat drill commencing. Racking their staffs outside the training chamber, Maccabeus inquired, continuing a conversation that had began earlier in the drill chamber, "You didn't know that he would live that long?"
"No. The apothecaries told us we could expect to live well over a thousand years, and some of our number that were created on Terra itself were well nigh on six hundred years old. But nine thousand years... no. I suppose much of that has to do with their being in the Eye of Terror?"
Judas nodded and handed Trypho a bottle of rehydration fluid from the distributing machine, opening one himself and after taking a long pull, answered, "Yes. That, and the Traitor Legions have one Fabius Bile of the Emperor's Children assisting. He prolongs their lives, and creates new Traitor Marines to replenish their numbers. More and more often these days, his foul experiments are succeeding, and we have had to use the Astartes to crush them. He always escapes-- I have heard speculation from Istvaran that he is being assisted by the Ruinous Powers in his endeavours, which certainly would explain his longevity..."
"Fabius Bile?" Trypho's nose wrinkled and he went on disdainfully, "I used to hear stories about what he did with the Emperor's Children. Messing with their geneseed, trying to get it more... 'perfect'. I suppose he got his wish, but damn, they're some ugly fuckers..."
Maccabeus nodded, and then hissed, arching his shoulders back in pain. At Trypho's concerned look, he shook his head and quietly responded, "It's nothing. Just... some itch I've had for some time. I shall be seeing the medicae this evening, I think. I shall see you at evening prayers, yes?"
"Of course, Chaplain. A most good practice session, by the way. Next time I'll go easier on you..."
Judas laughed and punched Trypho in the shoulder as he walked off, heading back to his chambers...
Later, in his Ecclesiarchy robes, he lifted the grail at the evening prayer service in the ship's chapel. Though it was a thing unusual to the Luna Wolves-- they had not had chaplains nor prayer services in their day-- some of them attended nonetheless, having found faith in the Emperor after seeing what had become of their fellows in the person of the Chaos Raptor of the Black Legion. Trypho was not among them yet-- he only came for the tanna and pastries afterwards, he declared. Nevertheless, Judas believed that as long as he was attending, the Emperor would be willing to overlook some minor philosophical differences... The Grey Knights, of course, attended faithfully, oftentimes assisting Judas with the service, solemn in their plain robes as they swung censers or held the aquila icon high.
His eyes suddenly narrowed and the grail shook, slopping some of the sanctified wine over the rim, as a pain lanced through his shoulder blades.
Drawing in a deep breath, he continued speaking the liturgy, and as soon as he finished, he handed over the grail to Eleazar, who gave him a curious look but took up his section of the liturgy without breaking the rhythm. As soon as the service was finished, he excused himself and repaired to his quarters behind the chapel.
There, he pulled off his robes, wincing as they scraped across his back.
Looking in the mirror above the sink, he frowned-- was that an actual change in the bone structure? A crack in his carapace? That couldn't be right. Striding over, he pressed the activation rune on the ship's intervox and told the cogitator relay to summon Inquisitor Istvaran and Justiciar Thasis immediately. Walking over to the sink again, he gave his shoulders another looking over and glowered at them, then pulled on a light robe and sat down upon the spartan bunk, waiting for the knocks on his door that came shortly.
Bidding them enter, without preamble he stated flatly, "I believe I may be subjecting the physical corruption of Chaos. Is this possible?"
Istvaran stated sententiously, "But of course it is always possible, Chaplain. Illuminate me, though-- why have you formed this opinion?"
In reply, Maccabeus took off his robe and turned his back. Hearing an audible intake of breath from the Inquisitor, he turned around and quietly asked, "Have you seen this before, Inquisitor?" Thasis' eyes were dark, hard, watching Judas sharply...
Istvaran sighed and inquired whether he could sit down; with assent, he sat, folding his robes about himself. Clearing his throat, he carefully stated, "I have done some research on your Founding Chapter and their Third Founding, especially the focus upon your own Chapter. It has been... illuminating reading. Especially when compared with ancient medicae reports that I discovered in one of the great Archives of Terra. They were full physical reports on the Primarchs-- but especially of note was the one of Sanguinius himself."
Thasis lifted his eyebrow and leaned back against the wall-- facing him at all times, Judas noted-- and archly inquired, "Yes? What of that? We all know the Blessed was one of the more unique Primarchs..."
Frowning at the Justiciar's disrespect for the primogenitors of the Astartes, Istvaran testily responded, "Of interest especially were the genetors' notes, especially when cross-referencing them with the Blood Angels' and Tears of Sanguinius' geneseed. Sanguinius' geneseed was of course highly pure-- some have said that he was virtually a direct clone of the Emperor himself, and while there is no information regarding the Emperor's own geneseed, I would not find it improbable. The Blood Angels' was close to Sanguinius', but it has degraded over the years. There is a certain corruption that steadfastly resists the efforts of the best genetors and apothecaries of the Chapter to remove it, and in some cases it has become extreme; the Flesh Tearers, I'm sure you're aware of them, are probably the best, or worse as the case may be, example of this corruption.
"The geneseed of the Tears of Sanguinius, however, is... oddly pure. I was able to retrieve an ancient journal of one of the genetors who worked on your Chapter from the archives on Baal; it goes into exhaustive detail about how careful his men were to ensure the purity of the geneseed. They introduced elements from the Ultramarines' and Imperial Fists' geneseed into the Blood Angels'; those two Chapters are the most notable for maintaining purity. With exhaustive work, they were able to make the geneseeds compatible, and then they merged them all into one strain, which was virtually pure. A small portion of corruption remains, aye, but their work was effacious enough; you never saw any of your men fall to the Rage, did you, Chaplain?"
Maccabeus nodded; it was true. They had never had any come under the Black Rage, and being one of the leaders of the Chapter, he knew this from personal experience. Having fought alongside the Blood Angels, on the other hand, especially at Hive Tempestora on Armageddon, he knew the deadly cost of the Black Rage, and the fall of the notorious Captain Erastus Tycho had only driven it home.
Istvaran continued, "The genetors considered their experiment a success. And in most respects, aye, it was. But..." he looked down at his hands, a sudden forlorn air about him, "They did not have the materials on the Primarchs' geneseed that I do. What they did, accidentally they restored the special gene-component that caused Sanguinius to have functional wings. I will require a full medicae examination, but I suspect that you are beginning to manifest this."
"What... how..." was all Judas could say. Istvaran nodded, curiously sympathetic, and responded, "You say that upon the Craftworld you were attacked by a Chaos Raptor of the Black Legion?"
Maccabeus nodded, and clarified, "I was on my jump pack. He attacked me in midair and cut at me with his lightning claws; my Rosarius took the brunt of his blow, but he scratched my armour, right shoulder plate. I sustained no injury aside from impacted knees afterward when I tried to attack him and missed my target."
Stroking his chin beard, Istvaran uttered, "Curious. In any case, shall we forth to the medicae, and have that examination done?"
Judas sighed, nodded and reached out for the robe Thasis handed him.
Pulling it on, he winced slightly as it scraped over the carapace on his shoulders-- and then reeled. Wondering whether the pain had overwhelmed him, he realized that wasn't it when the emergency illuminators came on, bathing his quarters in red. A siren sounded through the intervox, and a voice-- the ship's captain-- barked orders to take emergency positions and commend souls to the Emperor. Thasis shouted, "My armour! I must have it!" and ran out, Maccabeus following, leaving the Inquisitor behind.
They thundered down to the armoury, where pressing their hands against their respective armoriums, they waited a moment as the machine spirit within read their palmprint and unlocked the chambers. Pulling on their armour hastily with the aid of the armoury's servitors, Thasis clapped his helmet on first and grabbed his sword, flinging the scabbard aside as he dashed out to the bridge. Maccabeus grabbed his own helmet, clapped it on and felt the hiss of the inter-suit seal engaging, and gripped his crozius as a servitor placed his Rosarius about his neck. Once that was done, he flung the servitor aside and charged forth.
The bridge was pandemonium; crazed light glittered from the heavy metal shutters slid down across the huge bridge windows, and shrill screams resounded from the sealed and sigiled chamber hanging above, the Navigator's abode. Thasis bellowed, "Captain! Where's the captain? Emperor's blood, will someone tell me what is going on here?!"
One of the crewmen yelped and pointed up to the Navigator's box; a crack appeared across the enormous sigil inscribed on one side, and maleficent light seeped through. A roaring issued from within, and then it exploded.
Maccabeus felt a sting in his shoulder, but ignored that as he roared and leaped upwards, swinging his crozius as he began the ritual intonation of abomination-- "Creature, ye art abjured in the sight of the Emperor, and so ye shalt die!"-- but Thasis was a bare second ahead of him, shouting his own incantation as the Nemesis sword whipped through the body of the falling creature that had once been the Navigator as Maccabeus' crozius thumped wetly into its skull.
In midair, they felt the transition from the Immaterium to realspace; falling horizontally towards the bridge windows, they crashed against the metal shutters and tumbled to the deck plating. Groaning slightly, Judas struggled upright, and leaned against the balustrade above the crew pit beneath.
Thasis grumbled as he stood-- something about getting too old-- and looked at Judas.
Instanteously, his blade flickered to life at Judas' neck, and his voice hard, he told Maccabeus, "You must be purified. Look at yourself."
Maccabeus looked down-- and he was covered in daemonic ichor, as was Thasis, but the Justiciar’s eyes were fixed upon the rapidly clotting blood flowing from his shoulder. And Judas realized he had failed to activate his rosarius’ energy shield…
+++++++++++++
Three Days Later
The Empyrean, en route to another location in the Oculus Horribilis
Chaplain Maccabeus, his robes billowing, swung his staff, the hardwood blurring as it came directly at Trypho's head. The sergeant dodged it easily, and flicked out his own in a stroke that would've crushed an ordinary man's ribs but sent Maccabeus into the padded wall beside. Bouncing off and tucking into a forward roll, he lashed out his feet at Trypho, wrapped his legs around the sergeant's waist, and tumbled him down onto the floor. A bell struck, and the light above the door turned green. They got up, panting slightly, and bowed to each other as two Marines walked in, their turn for unarmed combat drill commencing. Racking their staffs outside the training chamber, Maccabeus inquired, continuing a conversation that had began earlier in the drill chamber, "You didn't know that he would live that long?"
"No. The apothecaries told us we could expect to live well over a thousand years, and some of our number that were created on Terra itself were well nigh on six hundred years old. But nine thousand years... no. I suppose much of that has to do with their being in the Eye of Terror?"
Judas nodded and handed Trypho a bottle of rehydration fluid from the distributing machine, opening one himself and after taking a long pull, answered, "Yes. That, and the Traitor Legions have one Fabius Bile of the Emperor's Children assisting. He prolongs their lives, and creates new Traitor Marines to replenish their numbers. More and more often these days, his foul experiments are succeeding, and we have had to use the Astartes to crush them. He always escapes-- I have heard speculation from Istvaran that he is being assisted by the Ruinous Powers in his endeavours, which certainly would explain his longevity..."
"Fabius Bile?" Trypho's nose wrinkled and he went on disdainfully, "I used to hear stories about what he did with the Emperor's Children. Messing with their geneseed, trying to get it more... 'perfect'. I suppose he got his wish, but damn, they're some ugly fuckers..."
Maccabeus nodded, and then hissed, arching his shoulders back in pain. At Trypho's concerned look, he shook his head and quietly responded, "It's nothing. Just... some itch I've had for some time. I shall be seeing the medicae this evening, I think. I shall see you at evening prayers, yes?"
"Of course, Chaplain. A most good practice session, by the way. Next time I'll go easier on you..."
Judas laughed and punched Trypho in the shoulder as he walked off, heading back to his chambers...
Later, in his Ecclesiarchy robes, he lifted the grail at the evening prayer service in the ship's chapel. Though it was a thing unusual to the Luna Wolves-- they had not had chaplains nor prayer services in their day-- some of them attended nonetheless, having found faith in the Emperor after seeing what had become of their fellows in the person of the Chaos Raptor of the Black Legion. Trypho was not among them yet-- he only came for the tanna and pastries afterwards, he declared. Nevertheless, Judas believed that as long as he was attending, the Emperor would be willing to overlook some minor philosophical differences... The Grey Knights, of course, attended faithfully, oftentimes assisting Judas with the service, solemn in their plain robes as they swung censers or held the aquila icon high.
His eyes suddenly narrowed and the grail shook, slopping some of the sanctified wine over the rim, as a pain lanced through his shoulder blades.
Drawing in a deep breath, he continued speaking the liturgy, and as soon as he finished, he handed over the grail to Eleazar, who gave him a curious look but took up his section of the liturgy without breaking the rhythm. As soon as the service was finished, he excused himself and repaired to his quarters behind the chapel.
There, he pulled off his robes, wincing as they scraped across his back.
Looking in the mirror above the sink, he frowned-- was that an actual change in the bone structure? A crack in his carapace? That couldn't be right. Striding over, he pressed the activation rune on the ship's intervox and told the cogitator relay to summon Inquisitor Istvaran and Justiciar Thasis immediately. Walking over to the sink again, he gave his shoulders another looking over and glowered at them, then pulled on a light robe and sat down upon the spartan bunk, waiting for the knocks on his door that came shortly.
Bidding them enter, without preamble he stated flatly, "I believe I may be subjecting the physical corruption of Chaos. Is this possible?"
Istvaran stated sententiously, "But of course it is always possible, Chaplain. Illuminate me, though-- why have you formed this opinion?"
In reply, Maccabeus took off his robe and turned his back. Hearing an audible intake of breath from the Inquisitor, he turned around and quietly asked, "Have you seen this before, Inquisitor?" Thasis' eyes were dark, hard, watching Judas sharply...
Istvaran sighed and inquired whether he could sit down; with assent, he sat, folding his robes about himself. Clearing his throat, he carefully stated, "I have done some research on your Founding Chapter and their Third Founding, especially the focus upon your own Chapter. It has been... illuminating reading. Especially when compared with ancient medicae reports that I discovered in one of the great Archives of Terra. They were full physical reports on the Primarchs-- but especially of note was the one of Sanguinius himself."
Thasis lifted his eyebrow and leaned back against the wall-- facing him at all times, Judas noted-- and archly inquired, "Yes? What of that? We all know the Blessed was one of the more unique Primarchs..."
Frowning at the Justiciar's disrespect for the primogenitors of the Astartes, Istvaran testily responded, "Of interest especially were the genetors' notes, especially when cross-referencing them with the Blood Angels' and Tears of Sanguinius' geneseed. Sanguinius' geneseed was of course highly pure-- some have said that he was virtually a direct clone of the Emperor himself, and while there is no information regarding the Emperor's own geneseed, I would not find it improbable. The Blood Angels' was close to Sanguinius', but it has degraded over the years. There is a certain corruption that steadfastly resists the efforts of the best genetors and apothecaries of the Chapter to remove it, and in some cases it has become extreme; the Flesh Tearers, I'm sure you're aware of them, are probably the best, or worse as the case may be, example of this corruption.
"The geneseed of the Tears of Sanguinius, however, is... oddly pure. I was able to retrieve an ancient journal of one of the genetors who worked on your Chapter from the archives on Baal; it goes into exhaustive detail about how careful his men were to ensure the purity of the geneseed. They introduced elements from the Ultramarines' and Imperial Fists' geneseed into the Blood Angels'; those two Chapters are the most notable for maintaining purity. With exhaustive work, they were able to make the geneseeds compatible, and then they merged them all into one strain, which was virtually pure. A small portion of corruption remains, aye, but their work was effacious enough; you never saw any of your men fall to the Rage, did you, Chaplain?"
Maccabeus nodded; it was true. They had never had any come under the Black Rage, and being one of the leaders of the Chapter, he knew this from personal experience. Having fought alongside the Blood Angels, on the other hand, especially at Hive Tempestora on Armageddon, he knew the deadly cost of the Black Rage, and the fall of the notorious Captain Erastus Tycho had only driven it home.
Istvaran continued, "The genetors considered their experiment a success. And in most respects, aye, it was. But..." he looked down at his hands, a sudden forlorn air about him, "They did not have the materials on the Primarchs' geneseed that I do. What they did, accidentally they restored the special gene-component that caused Sanguinius to have functional wings. I will require a full medicae examination, but I suspect that you are beginning to manifest this."
"What... how..." was all Judas could say. Istvaran nodded, curiously sympathetic, and responded, "You say that upon the Craftworld you were attacked by a Chaos Raptor of the Black Legion?"
Maccabeus nodded, and clarified, "I was on my jump pack. He attacked me in midair and cut at me with his lightning claws; my Rosarius took the brunt of his blow, but he scratched my armour, right shoulder plate. I sustained no injury aside from impacted knees afterward when I tried to attack him and missed my target."
Stroking his chin beard, Istvaran uttered, "Curious. In any case, shall we forth to the medicae, and have that examination done?"
Judas sighed, nodded and reached out for the robe Thasis handed him.
Pulling it on, he winced slightly as it scraped over the carapace on his shoulders-- and then reeled. Wondering whether the pain had overwhelmed him, he realized that wasn't it when the emergency illuminators came on, bathing his quarters in red. A siren sounded through the intervox, and a voice-- the ship's captain-- barked orders to take emergency positions and commend souls to the Emperor. Thasis shouted, "My armour! I must have it!" and ran out, Maccabeus following, leaving the Inquisitor behind.
They thundered down to the armoury, where pressing their hands against their respective armoriums, they waited a moment as the machine spirit within read their palmprint and unlocked the chambers. Pulling on their armour hastily with the aid of the armoury's servitors, Thasis clapped his helmet on first and grabbed his sword, flinging the scabbard aside as he dashed out to the bridge. Maccabeus grabbed his own helmet, clapped it on and felt the hiss of the inter-suit seal engaging, and gripped his crozius as a servitor placed his Rosarius about his neck. Once that was done, he flung the servitor aside and charged forth.
The bridge was pandemonium; crazed light glittered from the heavy metal shutters slid down across the huge bridge windows, and shrill screams resounded from the sealed and sigiled chamber hanging above, the Navigator's abode. Thasis bellowed, "Captain! Where's the captain? Emperor's blood, will someone tell me what is going on here?!"
One of the crewmen yelped and pointed up to the Navigator's box; a crack appeared across the enormous sigil inscribed on one side, and maleficent light seeped through. A roaring issued from within, and then it exploded.
Maccabeus felt a sting in his shoulder, but ignored that as he roared and leaped upwards, swinging his crozius as he began the ritual intonation of abomination-- "Creature, ye art abjured in the sight of the Emperor, and so ye shalt die!"-- but Thasis was a bare second ahead of him, shouting his own incantation as the Nemesis sword whipped through the body of the falling creature that had once been the Navigator as Maccabeus' crozius thumped wetly into its skull.
In midair, they felt the transition from the Immaterium to realspace; falling horizontally towards the bridge windows, they crashed against the metal shutters and tumbled to the deck plating. Groaning slightly, Judas struggled upright, and leaned against the balustrade above the crew pit beneath.
Thasis grumbled as he stood-- something about getting too old-- and looked at Judas.
Instanteously, his blade flickered to life at Judas' neck, and his voice hard, he told Maccabeus, "You must be purified. Look at yourself."
Maccabeus looked down-- and he was covered in daemonic ichor, as was Thasis, but the Justiciar’s eyes were fixed upon the rapidly clotting blood flowing from his shoulder. And Judas realized he had failed to activate his rosarius’ energy shield…
It's a strange world. Let's keep it that way.
... Doesn't "purification" mean "KILL"?
Me: Nope, that's why I have you around to tell me.
Nitram: You -are- beautiful. Anyone tries to tell you otherwise kill them.
"A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" -- Leonard Nimoy, last Tweet
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Ford Prefect
- Emperor's Hand
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Soontir C'boath
- SG-14: Fuck the Medic!
- Posts: 6828
- Joined: 2002-07-06 12:15am
- Location: Queens, NYC I DON'T FUCKING CARE IF MANHATTEN IS CONSIDERED NYC!! I'M IN IT ASSHOLE!!!
- Contact:
Hmm, the Chaos Marines at the end of chapter four seemed very very inexperienced compared to Cyran with them falling so easily.
I want to know what happens next in the ship so I will be waiting ie. I like it and I want more.
I want to know what happens next in the ship so I will be waiting ie. I like it and I want more.
I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who constantly says: "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a "more convenient season."
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Elheru Aran
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 13073
- Joined: 2004-03-04 01:15am
- Location: Georgia
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Elheru Aran
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 13073
- Joined: 2004-03-04 01:15am
- Location: Georgia
Chapter Six in now!
+++++++++++
A Day Later
In Realspace, Making Repairs
"This isn't right, Judas. You shouldn't be cooped up here like this, man. You're our commander!" Trypho growled angrily, gripping the bars of the brig. Maccabeus smiled painfully and quietly said, "Well, there isn't anything to be done for it. Until they're certain that this is just a geneseed change and not part of corruption by the Ruinous Powers..."
Behind Trypho, Mattathias rumbled, "Brother Sergeant, do not despair. This is but part of the purifying process. Judas was covered in daemonic blood, and received a small injury to his shoulder. The smallest risk of corruption cannot, must not be tolerated. He has but two more days in here, and then he shall be free to go. Is that not so, Chaplain?"
"I've told you, Mattathias, you can call me Judas to my face," Maccabeus smiling told the Dreadnought, who was bent low on depressed hydraulics to fit under the ceiling, but even so had to stand behind the door to the cell block. The smile slipping slightly, he went on, "But aye, I am required to stay in here three days before they will permit me to resume my duties. And after seeing what became of the Navigator, I cannot blame them..."
A slight clank rumbled through the deck plating; looking up at that, all of them recognized the telltale sounds of a void-connection being made between two ships. Judas stood up and nodded at Trypho and Mattathias, and told them, "You can go. See what that is and let me know. Have faith, brothers-- we shall see this through."
"Aye, that we will, Judas. Mattathias?" Trypho responded. The Dreadnought assented, his rumble deeper if that was possible. They strode away outwards, and sighing, Maccabeus sat back on the spartan bunk. He picked up his missal-- the only book Thasis had permitted him to have inside the cell with him-- and began reading, thick finger carefully tracing the intricate lines as he sounded out the words one by one...
A few decks upstairs, in the receiving areas, Istvaran was frantically remonstrating with Justiciar Thasis.
"Thasis! You know me, man! You don't need to do this!" The Nemesis sword hummed scant inches from the Inquisitor's neck, the Justiciar's face cold and grim as stone. A large man in power armour entered through the void-lock behind, face concealed behind a mighty helm. The armour was intricately chased, covered in gold and Inquisition symbols, protective wards dangling from the belt, and a relic (the hand of a saint) in a crystal box upon his breast. An incongruously jolly voice came from within as gauntlets reached up and undid the helmet-- "Good man, Thasis. See, Hammedatha, this is why one ascends through the ranks, rather than spending time in musty librariums and archives..."
Istvaran's face hardened, and angrily he muttered, "Stravo Ezekylus, I always knew you were jealous of my work, but I never thought it would come to this..."
"Jealous, my dear Hammedatha? Not at all, not at all. Why," he bombastically proclaimed, gauntlet clumsily clattering upon Thasis' immaculate shoulder plate, "in fact I am here to extend you the utmost of support in your project, your little pet Astartes! Yes, yes, interesting little one that. Let's see if he's ever met an Inquisitor Lord before..."
The door to the cell block clanked open and as Judas set down his book, Ezekylus strode in. Pulling off the gauntlet from his left hand, he held it out and motioned Judas nearby. Handing his gauntlets to a savant hovering nearby (literally; apparently he had suspensors instead of legs, hidden under his robes), the Inquisitor crossed his armoured arms over his chest with some difficulty and glowered at the Chaplain.
Maccabeus, undaunted, gave him a cold look in return and picked up his book, and resumed reading.
Ezekylus' cheek twitched in irritation, and unable to hold in his annoyance, reached out and thumped another savant on the shoulder. The unlucky soul turned and reedily proclaimed, "Pay all respect, for Inquisitor Lord Ezekylus of the Ordo Malleus is before you. He would hold discourse and perchance offer you an alternative to your current course."
Judas carefully held a finger at his spot and looked up at the savant, and quietly remarked, "If Lord Ezekylus wants to talk, all he has to do is address me. Until then..." and he looked back at his book.
Ezekylus turned a pleasant shade of scarlet and bellowed, "Maccabeus! I can get you out of here, Emperor-damnit! Don't you want that? Lose these pathetic warp-spurned children out of time, and I shall lift you before the Emperor himself. You're not going to get anywhere with Istvaran except dead, and I can tell you that!"
Putting his book aside, Judas Maccabeus stood to his full height, towering over the Inquisitor even without his power armour. His eyes narrowing, he spoke in a low growl, "Inquisitor, you shall address me as Master Chaplain or Reclusiarch. I am no underling that you can spurn me with your toe and make me roll over at command; I am an Astartes, one of the Emperor's Space Marines, a Chaplain of the God Emperor Himself, last survivor of the Tears of Sanguinius Chapter, a scion of the Maccabees, and if you or any of your servants lay one finger upon me, I shall rip off your arms and beat you to death with them, and peel you out of that power armour you dishonour as though you were a numafruit!"
By the time he finished, he was standing just before the bars, matching glowers with Ezekylus; the Inquisitor's savants had fled, huddling in a corner, whimpering, expecting the Marine to reach through the bars and rip them apart. Ezekylus, impossibly, still faced Maccabeus, defiant, pale but intent. He whispered, "So that's how it shall be, Astartes..."
Rounding about upon his toes, he marched out, and the retinue scrambled to follow him at Maccabeus' glower.
On the other side of the wall, the Luna Wolves were clustered about Mattathias, who was listening intently, a data-feed thread stuck upon the wall feeding sound to his sensor suites. Inside the sarcophagus, he smiled, and as he told the other Marines of the exchange within, they cheered (quietly). Asramel nodded in satisfaction, mumbling some highly descriptive and in no way possibly complimentary words regarding the Inquisitor. And suddenly they started as Eleazar cleared his throat quite obviously.
Spinning around, they looked at him; he was standing there with Alcimus and Thasis, Avaran and Ismail presumably guarding Istvaran. Thasis gruffly asked, "What are you doing? Assemblies of more than seven Marines outside the hangar bay, training grounds, quarters, chapel or dining hall are strictly proscribed..."
The Wolves hemmed and hawed for a moment, and then Trypho had a bright idea. Holding out his hands in the universal shrug, he remarked offhandedly, "We can't say." The other Luna Wolves grinned as they recognized the term, and then started as Thasis' sword flashed out and the other two activated their Nemesis weapons, suddenly grim.
"What... did you say, Sergeant?" Thasis growled. Blinking, Trypho mumbled, "I can't say?"
In an instant stormbolters were leveled, and Thasis growled again, "In the name of the Emperor, under the Codex Astartes, the Warriors' Lodges, being hearts of corruption within the Adeptus Astartes, are strictly prohibited upon pain of death. Surrender your weapons and armour immediately."
The Luna Wolves, confused, looked at each other. Mattathias finally rumbled, "Brother Justiciar Thasis? We are from before the Codex Astartes. Our lodge was but a fraternal brotherhood of warriors. We were simply reluctant to tell you precisely what we were doing because of the Inquisitor."
Thasis lowered his stormbolter, and nodded fractionally to Alcimus and Eleazar, who did the same. He walked up to Mattathias and hissed, "What of the Inquisitor Lord? I cannot disobey his orders; he is my superior above Istvaran..."
"He is trying to take Brother Chaplain Maccabeus, Keevan. He means no good."
Sighing, Thasis depowered his sword and slid it back into its scabbard; Eleazar and Alcimus relaxed and stepped near, turning their own weapons off. Alcimus quietly remarked, "I believe we can... perhaps accelerate the Chaplain's purification?"
Thasis glowered at him and shook his head sharply, but Mattathias had picked it up and inquired, "How? We shall do what we must, Justiciar. If that means fighting the Inquisitor, we shall. Judas Maccabeus is our commander, and we cannot function without a commander."
The Justiciar looked up at the Dreadnought and made his decision.
+++++++++++
A Day Later
In Realspace, Making Repairs
"This isn't right, Judas. You shouldn't be cooped up here like this, man. You're our commander!" Trypho growled angrily, gripping the bars of the brig. Maccabeus smiled painfully and quietly said, "Well, there isn't anything to be done for it. Until they're certain that this is just a geneseed change and not part of corruption by the Ruinous Powers..."
Behind Trypho, Mattathias rumbled, "Brother Sergeant, do not despair. This is but part of the purifying process. Judas was covered in daemonic blood, and received a small injury to his shoulder. The smallest risk of corruption cannot, must not be tolerated. He has but two more days in here, and then he shall be free to go. Is that not so, Chaplain?"
"I've told you, Mattathias, you can call me Judas to my face," Maccabeus smiling told the Dreadnought, who was bent low on depressed hydraulics to fit under the ceiling, but even so had to stand behind the door to the cell block. The smile slipping slightly, he went on, "But aye, I am required to stay in here three days before they will permit me to resume my duties. And after seeing what became of the Navigator, I cannot blame them..."
A slight clank rumbled through the deck plating; looking up at that, all of them recognized the telltale sounds of a void-connection being made between two ships. Judas stood up and nodded at Trypho and Mattathias, and told them, "You can go. See what that is and let me know. Have faith, brothers-- we shall see this through."
"Aye, that we will, Judas. Mattathias?" Trypho responded. The Dreadnought assented, his rumble deeper if that was possible. They strode away outwards, and sighing, Maccabeus sat back on the spartan bunk. He picked up his missal-- the only book Thasis had permitted him to have inside the cell with him-- and began reading, thick finger carefully tracing the intricate lines as he sounded out the words one by one...
A few decks upstairs, in the receiving areas, Istvaran was frantically remonstrating with Justiciar Thasis.
"Thasis! You know me, man! You don't need to do this!" The Nemesis sword hummed scant inches from the Inquisitor's neck, the Justiciar's face cold and grim as stone. A large man in power armour entered through the void-lock behind, face concealed behind a mighty helm. The armour was intricately chased, covered in gold and Inquisition symbols, protective wards dangling from the belt, and a relic (the hand of a saint) in a crystal box upon his breast. An incongruously jolly voice came from within as gauntlets reached up and undid the helmet-- "Good man, Thasis. See, Hammedatha, this is why one ascends through the ranks, rather than spending time in musty librariums and archives..."
Istvaran's face hardened, and angrily he muttered, "Stravo Ezekylus, I always knew you were jealous of my work, but I never thought it would come to this..."
"Jealous, my dear Hammedatha? Not at all, not at all. Why," he bombastically proclaimed, gauntlet clumsily clattering upon Thasis' immaculate shoulder plate, "in fact I am here to extend you the utmost of support in your project, your little pet Astartes! Yes, yes, interesting little one that. Let's see if he's ever met an Inquisitor Lord before..."
The door to the cell block clanked open and as Judas set down his book, Ezekylus strode in. Pulling off the gauntlet from his left hand, he held it out and motioned Judas nearby. Handing his gauntlets to a savant hovering nearby (literally; apparently he had suspensors instead of legs, hidden under his robes), the Inquisitor crossed his armoured arms over his chest with some difficulty and glowered at the Chaplain.
Maccabeus, undaunted, gave him a cold look in return and picked up his book, and resumed reading.
Ezekylus' cheek twitched in irritation, and unable to hold in his annoyance, reached out and thumped another savant on the shoulder. The unlucky soul turned and reedily proclaimed, "Pay all respect, for Inquisitor Lord Ezekylus of the Ordo Malleus is before you. He would hold discourse and perchance offer you an alternative to your current course."
Judas carefully held a finger at his spot and looked up at the savant, and quietly remarked, "If Lord Ezekylus wants to talk, all he has to do is address me. Until then..." and he looked back at his book.
Ezekylus turned a pleasant shade of scarlet and bellowed, "Maccabeus! I can get you out of here, Emperor-damnit! Don't you want that? Lose these pathetic warp-spurned children out of time, and I shall lift you before the Emperor himself. You're not going to get anywhere with Istvaran except dead, and I can tell you that!"
Putting his book aside, Judas Maccabeus stood to his full height, towering over the Inquisitor even without his power armour. His eyes narrowing, he spoke in a low growl, "Inquisitor, you shall address me as Master Chaplain or Reclusiarch. I am no underling that you can spurn me with your toe and make me roll over at command; I am an Astartes, one of the Emperor's Space Marines, a Chaplain of the God Emperor Himself, last survivor of the Tears of Sanguinius Chapter, a scion of the Maccabees, and if you or any of your servants lay one finger upon me, I shall rip off your arms and beat you to death with them, and peel you out of that power armour you dishonour as though you were a numafruit!"
By the time he finished, he was standing just before the bars, matching glowers with Ezekylus; the Inquisitor's savants had fled, huddling in a corner, whimpering, expecting the Marine to reach through the bars and rip them apart. Ezekylus, impossibly, still faced Maccabeus, defiant, pale but intent. He whispered, "So that's how it shall be, Astartes..."
Rounding about upon his toes, he marched out, and the retinue scrambled to follow him at Maccabeus' glower.
On the other side of the wall, the Luna Wolves were clustered about Mattathias, who was listening intently, a data-feed thread stuck upon the wall feeding sound to his sensor suites. Inside the sarcophagus, he smiled, and as he told the other Marines of the exchange within, they cheered (quietly). Asramel nodded in satisfaction, mumbling some highly descriptive and in no way possibly complimentary words regarding the Inquisitor. And suddenly they started as Eleazar cleared his throat quite obviously.
Spinning around, they looked at him; he was standing there with Alcimus and Thasis, Avaran and Ismail presumably guarding Istvaran. Thasis gruffly asked, "What are you doing? Assemblies of more than seven Marines outside the hangar bay, training grounds, quarters, chapel or dining hall are strictly proscribed..."
The Wolves hemmed and hawed for a moment, and then Trypho had a bright idea. Holding out his hands in the universal shrug, he remarked offhandedly, "We can't say." The other Luna Wolves grinned as they recognized the term, and then started as Thasis' sword flashed out and the other two activated their Nemesis weapons, suddenly grim.
"What... did you say, Sergeant?" Thasis growled. Blinking, Trypho mumbled, "I can't say?"
In an instant stormbolters were leveled, and Thasis growled again, "In the name of the Emperor, under the Codex Astartes, the Warriors' Lodges, being hearts of corruption within the Adeptus Astartes, are strictly prohibited upon pain of death. Surrender your weapons and armour immediately."
The Luna Wolves, confused, looked at each other. Mattathias finally rumbled, "Brother Justiciar Thasis? We are from before the Codex Astartes. Our lodge was but a fraternal brotherhood of warriors. We were simply reluctant to tell you precisely what we were doing because of the Inquisitor."
Thasis lowered his stormbolter, and nodded fractionally to Alcimus and Eleazar, who did the same. He walked up to Mattathias and hissed, "What of the Inquisitor Lord? I cannot disobey his orders; he is my superior above Istvaran..."
"He is trying to take Brother Chaplain Maccabeus, Keevan. He means no good."
Sighing, Thasis depowered his sword and slid it back into its scabbard; Eleazar and Alcimus relaxed and stepped near, turning their own weapons off. Alcimus quietly remarked, "I believe we can... perhaps accelerate the Chaplain's purification?"
Thasis glowered at him and shook his head sharply, but Mattathias had picked it up and inquired, "How? We shall do what we must, Justiciar. If that means fighting the Inquisitor, we shall. Judas Maccabeus is our commander, and we cannot function without a commander."
The Justiciar looked up at the Dreadnought and made his decision.
It's a strange world. Let's keep it that way.
Haha...that was great.
"We can't say."
"We can't say."
"The rifle itself has no moral stature, since it has no will of its own. Naturally, it may be used by evil men for evil purposes, but there are more good men than evil, and while the latter cannot be persuaded to the path of righteousness by propaganda, they can certainly be corrected by good men with rifles."
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Ford Prefect
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 8254
- Joined: 2005-05-16 04:08am
- Location: The real number domain
Ford Prefect wrote:Matthias really makes me love Dreadnaughts, just rumbling about all over the place ...
Probably think stuff like "God I'm bored" and "wish i could scratch this itch on my nose. It's been there for the past 3,000 years!"
"The rifle itself has no moral stature, since it has no will of its own. Naturally, it may be used by evil men for evil purposes, but there are more good men than evil, and while the latter cannot be persuaded to the path of righteousness by propaganda, they can certainly be corrected by good men with rifles."
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Elheru Aran
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 13073
- Joined: 2004-03-04 01:15am
- Location: Georgia
Chapter Six. Some of you will have seen this coming, some of you won't have...
++++++++++++++++
Late that night...
"Why are we going to the chapel, Justiciar? I thought we had to keep me confined?" Judas whispered to Thasis as they carefully sneaked down the corridor. The Grey Knight hissed back, "My Lord Ezekylus means you no good, Maccabeus. He seeks to lift himself up in the Inquisition, and discovering a Marine of your... singularity will do that. We must not allow this to happen."
"Very well... what shall you do?"
"The taint shall be purged from your corpus-- not corpse, mind, we intend to keep you alive of course-- and hopefully, we shall also remove whatever it is that is causing your geneseed to manifest those wings. This will take some time, Chaplain..."
Maccabeus grimaced-- "Purged? That doesn't sound good..."
"No. It will probably hurt."
"Well, I've hurt before. I suppose..."
"Ah, it'll hurt, a lot. We'll have the medicae there, though, so hopefully you should be intact afterwards."
Maccabeus sighed, and then came to a halt once he entered the chapel. All the Luna Wolves and Thasis' squad of Grey Knights were standing there, faces grim, armour polished, weapons slung. The ship's Priest, pale and trembling, stood beside the altar, which had manacles freshly riveted to it-- hand, body, head, legs and ankles. Mattathias advanced from the side and swung the doors to the chapel closed, and lowered a mighty portcullis, barring the doors further. Dimly, Maccabeus noted that the Dreadnought had replaced his right assault cannon with a second close-combat arm... he wondered why.
Thasis stepped forward, and then turned to face him, his own face grimly serious. He asked, "Judas Maccabeus, Chaplain, ye have been contaminated by the warp-stuff of Chaos. Will ye be ritually purged of the daemonic substance, and be fit to kneel before our Emperor once more?"
Judas swallowed hard, and steeled himself. He bowed low, spreading his arms, and made the ritual response, "In the name of He whom I am unworthy to kneel before, I shall be purged and purified. Amen."
"Then let it be done!" And Thasis led him to the altar, stepping carefully. At a gesture, the Grey Knights as one took their helmets and placed them on their heads; the clicks of the helmet seals struck the first tone.
Maccabeus laid upon the altar; and the final click of the manacles sounded the second tone.
Thasis stepped back, grim still, and bowed as the Priest advanced, sweat running down his plump face, and began stammering forth a ritual prayer, waving a smoking censer with a shaking hand. Once he finished, he lowered the censer carefully and clinked it against the marble steps-- the third tone.
Raising his voice, Thasis began the chant of abomination, and the Luna Wolves joined in, Mattathias underlying everything in his mighty bass-- "O Emperor, see Thou this man of our number before Thee, upon Thy altar. Within him is Evil; we abjure that Evil, we abominate that Evil. We beg Thee, cleanse him of this Evil..." Mattathias ritually struck a large gong at the side of the chapel as the last word fell, the fourth tone. Three left.
A pounding issued from the door, and Ezekylus' voice bellowed dimly through-- "Traitors! Heretics! Showing your true roots! Open this door upon the instant and give me my Chaplain, ye foul recreants!"
Thasis sighed and whispered a command into his intervox; as one, the Luna Wolves donned their helmets and moved into lines facing the door, bolters at the ready. Nodding to the priest, he gestured for him to advance and make his last portion of the ritual.
Swallowing hard, the unfortunate moved forward, stumbling on his robes; carefully dipping a silver spoon into the intricately chased bowl he held, he began sprinkling oil upon Maccabeus, chanting the Last Rites. Encouraging, Judas thought, bloody fraking encouraging! As the priest commended Judas' soul to the Emperor, finishing by drawing an aquila upon his forehead, the Grey Knights as one brought their halberds up, and thumped the butts into the stone decking-- the fifth tone.
The doors sparked and hissed as a las-cutter was applied; Ezekylus had apparently decided talking wasn't going to work. Thasis gave the doors a last cold look and then turned back to Judas, stepping forward. He whispered into the collar of his armour, and a psychic hood unfurled from within, clicking into place on his skull. Holding a hand above Judas' head, handle of the sword gripped firmly in the other, he began chanting, the Grey Knights taking it up as the characteristic ozone stink of psyker power manifested itself. Green fire rippled across Thasis' head, and the halberd butts kept up their thump... thump... thump...
Bellowing resounded outside the chapel; apparently Ezekylus shouting something about they've got a psyker in there, it's that Emperor-damned Sigma-Delta squad of Thasis'! I knew I couldn't trust them! The Justiciar smiled humourlessly, thin lips stretching, and closed his eyes, concentrating, as blue sparks of electricity began radiating off his fingers, his chant increasing in volume. The las-cutter began singing furiously, sending sparks through the antechamber of the chapel.
A pure lance of fire stabbed through Judas' shoulder, where he'd been chipped by a shard of the possessed Navigator's box, and his back arched convulsively, body pressing against his bonds, his neck suddenly corded as Thasis thrust his hand through the shoulder!
Withdrawing his hand, his eyes glowing blue, lightning sparking off his armour, he uncurled his fist and showed Judas, who had settled back down-- a seed of pure, malevolent unlight within his hand. Suddenly, he stood, reached out and grabbed the priest-- who had backed up against one of the Grey Knights' legs, wailing something about wyrds-- and stuck the shard of Chaos in the mortal's forehead.
"In the name of the Emperor, a sacrifice we offer, that our comrade's soul shall be saved!" Thasis shouted, as the Grey Knights thumped their halberds down one last time, Nemesis blades igniting with a hungry crackle.
The priest screamed, his skin rippling as the shard flowed into him, and then began melting, mutating into some foul form.
Simultaneously, Thasis chopped down his hand, and the Nemesis blades found their homes. The emergent daemon screamed as it was banished back to where it came, leaving a loathsome mound of flesh behind.
Ezekylus bellowed from outside as an enormous piece of the door fell away, revealing the portcullis, "Justiciar! You and your squad, and all these heretics, are thrice-damned! By the order of the Inquisition!"
Thasis, psyker-flame dancing about him now, turned and bore down upon the Inquisitor with his glowing eyes and replied, "I do the Emperor's will, my Lord. Can you say the same for yourself?"
Ezekylus purpled and held out his hand; a massive lance of psi-flame ejected forth, and the Luna Wolves ducked as it came through the portcullis. Alcimus leaped forth, and with a swing of his halberd, batted it aside, landing gracefully, and then held his own hand out as a blast of psyker-light came through his eyepieces; lightning flowed forth from his outstretched hand, arcing towards Ezekylus. Chanting, the other Grey Knights came together, and placed hands upon Alcimus, focussing their psyker talents, sending another enormous blast against the Inquisitor Lord.
Bellowing, Ezekylus resisted the lightning; it arced into a sphere around him, and spreading his arms, he hovered slightly for a moment, eyes glowing, before sending a psychic blast of force through the portcullis, tearing it away in an instant and tumbling the Luna Wolves like so many toys; even Mattathias stumbled before the onslaught. The Grey Knights stood firm, and sent another blast in response. This one crushed Ezekylus' retainers and savants like Cadian mudtoads under a Baneblade; Ezekylus was shaken, but holding his hands out before him, he spat a few words.
Whoever was unlucky enough to be in the path of his words were slashed and flung about as though they had been struck with an enormous sword.
Brother Azazal’s arm flew off, and Brother Xalev's legs were cut out from under him, an enormous gouge chipped out of Mattathias' right shoulder armour, but the Grey Knights, again, stood firm, though Alcimus, being the channeler for their unified psychic force, was staggered. Inhaling deeply, he clenched his fists about his Nemesis weapon and struck it into the decking; mighty forces flowed through it, and erupted about Ezekylus' feet, consuming him in a whirlwind of flame and lightning.
When the smoke and dust cleared, Ezekylus was unconscious, sprawling on the deck with blood flowing from his nose and ears. Alcimus sagged, and the others held on to him, lifting him to his feet. It was but scant seconds after Ezekylus had broken through the door. Thasis' hands still hovered above Judas, chanting on. Picking up the rhythm, the Grey Knights took up the chant once more, and held their weapons at parade-rest across their chests. Trypho looked up from one of the injured Luna Wolves, shouted something Maccabeus couldn't hear to the Dreadnought, and ran out.
The chanting had increased in volume, and Thasis was beginning to sweat, by the time the Sergeant returned with Istvaran. The Inquisitor's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Ezekylus prostrate, but grinned with a fierce delight that turned to utter terror once he saw what was happening. He shouted, "No!"
But it was too late. The mighty psychic power of the unified Grey Knights squad channeled through Thasis into Judas Maccabeus was irreversible.
Maccabeus' arms corded and strove against their bonds; his back arched, jaw clenched, as a string of saliva emerged from the corner of his lip, and he screamed. His eyes glowed golden, light shining forth from his mouth, hands and feet; psychic lightning erupted above the altar, and the very ship itself shuddered.
A mighty thrust of his arms, and the manacles erupted from the stone of the altar; with a twist of his body, more bonds sprang free as Thasis stepped back and scrambled for his sword. Throwing aside their Nemesis weapons, Avaran and Eleazar leaped forward and grappled with Maccabeus, only to be flung aside as though weightless. Trypho and Asramel leaped forward to tackle him, but Judas, wreathed in psy-flame, swatted them out of the air, eyes unseeing, a trickle of blood coming from his lip where he had bitten it. The Justiciar grabbed him about the shoulders while Alcimus and Ismail each grabbed a leg-- to no avail; he flung Thasis backwards over the altar, and with a mighty leap upwards he ripped his legs free of the other two Knights.
He hovered in the air for a moment, arms outstretched, robes tattered...
And then was slammed against the back wall of the chapel by Mattathias, who had moved with unbelievable speed for his size. The Dreadnought roared, "Brother Chaplain Judas Maccabeus! You are a Space Marine! Remember thyself!"
Maccabeus, his eyes wide and unseeing, bellowed one word, "SANGUINIUS!"
Reaching down, he gripped the Dreadnought's arm, and muscles bunched, standing out powerfully on his neck, he bellowed again, "Sanguinius! Come to me!"
With a mighty twist of his body, a scream of tortured metal ripped forth as he tore Mattathias' arm off, and his foot thrusted out, sending the Dreadnought crashing backwards through the altar as the arm went flying, pieces hovering in the air as time seemed to stop.
His body convulsed suddenly, and landing on his feet, he stumbled to his knees, and his arms spread as his back arched, and he screamed again. A mighty blast of psychic force swept through the ship from stem to stern, tumbling crewmen, blowing the replacement Navigator's head apart, and destroying the power relays for half the ship.
When silence fell, Istvaran picked himself up off the floor and groped about in the darkness of the ruined chapel, calling out, "Luna Wolves? Sergeants? Grey Knights? Justiciar? Brother Mattathias? Is anybody there?"
Trypho called out, "Here, Inquisitor. I have Mattathias. He needs another arm, but is otherwise intact. Where's Judas?"
Groggily, Eleazar grumbled, "Oh, my head..." and then realized Thasis wasn't saying anything. He called out, "Justiciar? Are you there?"
A last green spark of psyker flame spat forth in response, illuminating Thasis' face; there was a soft snick as the psychic hood slid back into his collar. Thasis was bleeding from the nose and ears, but lucid; he called out, "Maccabeus? Are you there, Judas?"
And they turned as a soft golden light began to permeate the darkness. A glimpse... Thasis shook his head sharply, that couldn't be right. Had he seen...?
Judas Maccabeus knelt before the cracked statue of the Emperor, hands clasped, praying fervently. Blood flowed down his forehead, as though he was sweating it from his pores. His robes, torn and ripped, hung from his shoulders. A holy, sacred light shone forth from his face, diffusing through the chapel.
Reflexively, Thasis' knees bent, and around him, he could hear the conscious Luna Wolves gasping and doing the same. The Grey Knights bent their knees, as the Luna Wolves prostrated themselves. The Chaplain stood, and turned around to face his men. The Inquisitor drew in his breath as tears welled up in his eyes.
A beautiful, massive pair of wings, like eagles' pinions, flowed smoothly from Maccabeus' shoulder blades, full twelve feet in span. The brown and white feathers glowed faintly as Judas lifted his face, and Hammedatha Istvaran fell to his knees and bowed low. The recessive Sanguinius gene had manifested itself in Judas Maccabeus, and the Lord of Angels stood before the Adeptus Astartes once again.
++++++++++++++++
Late that night...
"Why are we going to the chapel, Justiciar? I thought we had to keep me confined?" Judas whispered to Thasis as they carefully sneaked down the corridor. The Grey Knight hissed back, "My Lord Ezekylus means you no good, Maccabeus. He seeks to lift himself up in the Inquisition, and discovering a Marine of your... singularity will do that. We must not allow this to happen."
"Very well... what shall you do?"
"The taint shall be purged from your corpus-- not corpse, mind, we intend to keep you alive of course-- and hopefully, we shall also remove whatever it is that is causing your geneseed to manifest those wings. This will take some time, Chaplain..."
Maccabeus grimaced-- "Purged? That doesn't sound good..."
"No. It will probably hurt."
"Well, I've hurt before. I suppose..."
"Ah, it'll hurt, a lot. We'll have the medicae there, though, so hopefully you should be intact afterwards."
Maccabeus sighed, and then came to a halt once he entered the chapel. All the Luna Wolves and Thasis' squad of Grey Knights were standing there, faces grim, armour polished, weapons slung. The ship's Priest, pale and trembling, stood beside the altar, which had manacles freshly riveted to it-- hand, body, head, legs and ankles. Mattathias advanced from the side and swung the doors to the chapel closed, and lowered a mighty portcullis, barring the doors further. Dimly, Maccabeus noted that the Dreadnought had replaced his right assault cannon with a second close-combat arm... he wondered why.
Thasis stepped forward, and then turned to face him, his own face grimly serious. He asked, "Judas Maccabeus, Chaplain, ye have been contaminated by the warp-stuff of Chaos. Will ye be ritually purged of the daemonic substance, and be fit to kneel before our Emperor once more?"
Judas swallowed hard, and steeled himself. He bowed low, spreading his arms, and made the ritual response, "In the name of He whom I am unworthy to kneel before, I shall be purged and purified. Amen."
"Then let it be done!" And Thasis led him to the altar, stepping carefully. At a gesture, the Grey Knights as one took their helmets and placed them on their heads; the clicks of the helmet seals struck the first tone.
Maccabeus laid upon the altar; and the final click of the manacles sounded the second tone.
Thasis stepped back, grim still, and bowed as the Priest advanced, sweat running down his plump face, and began stammering forth a ritual prayer, waving a smoking censer with a shaking hand. Once he finished, he lowered the censer carefully and clinked it against the marble steps-- the third tone.
Raising his voice, Thasis began the chant of abomination, and the Luna Wolves joined in, Mattathias underlying everything in his mighty bass-- "O Emperor, see Thou this man of our number before Thee, upon Thy altar. Within him is Evil; we abjure that Evil, we abominate that Evil. We beg Thee, cleanse him of this Evil..." Mattathias ritually struck a large gong at the side of the chapel as the last word fell, the fourth tone. Three left.
A pounding issued from the door, and Ezekylus' voice bellowed dimly through-- "Traitors! Heretics! Showing your true roots! Open this door upon the instant and give me my Chaplain, ye foul recreants!"
Thasis sighed and whispered a command into his intervox; as one, the Luna Wolves donned their helmets and moved into lines facing the door, bolters at the ready. Nodding to the priest, he gestured for him to advance and make his last portion of the ritual.
Swallowing hard, the unfortunate moved forward, stumbling on his robes; carefully dipping a silver spoon into the intricately chased bowl he held, he began sprinkling oil upon Maccabeus, chanting the Last Rites. Encouraging, Judas thought, bloody fraking encouraging! As the priest commended Judas' soul to the Emperor, finishing by drawing an aquila upon his forehead, the Grey Knights as one brought their halberds up, and thumped the butts into the stone decking-- the fifth tone.
The doors sparked and hissed as a las-cutter was applied; Ezekylus had apparently decided talking wasn't going to work. Thasis gave the doors a last cold look and then turned back to Judas, stepping forward. He whispered into the collar of his armour, and a psychic hood unfurled from within, clicking into place on his skull. Holding a hand above Judas' head, handle of the sword gripped firmly in the other, he began chanting, the Grey Knights taking it up as the characteristic ozone stink of psyker power manifested itself. Green fire rippled across Thasis' head, and the halberd butts kept up their thump... thump... thump...
Bellowing resounded outside the chapel; apparently Ezekylus shouting something about they've got a psyker in there, it's that Emperor-damned Sigma-Delta squad of Thasis'! I knew I couldn't trust them! The Justiciar smiled humourlessly, thin lips stretching, and closed his eyes, concentrating, as blue sparks of electricity began radiating off his fingers, his chant increasing in volume. The las-cutter began singing furiously, sending sparks through the antechamber of the chapel.
A pure lance of fire stabbed through Judas' shoulder, where he'd been chipped by a shard of the possessed Navigator's box, and his back arched convulsively, body pressing against his bonds, his neck suddenly corded as Thasis thrust his hand through the shoulder!
Withdrawing his hand, his eyes glowing blue, lightning sparking off his armour, he uncurled his fist and showed Judas, who had settled back down-- a seed of pure, malevolent unlight within his hand. Suddenly, he stood, reached out and grabbed the priest-- who had backed up against one of the Grey Knights' legs, wailing something about wyrds-- and stuck the shard of Chaos in the mortal's forehead.
"In the name of the Emperor, a sacrifice we offer, that our comrade's soul shall be saved!" Thasis shouted, as the Grey Knights thumped their halberds down one last time, Nemesis blades igniting with a hungry crackle.
The priest screamed, his skin rippling as the shard flowed into him, and then began melting, mutating into some foul form.
Simultaneously, Thasis chopped down his hand, and the Nemesis blades found their homes. The emergent daemon screamed as it was banished back to where it came, leaving a loathsome mound of flesh behind.
Ezekylus bellowed from outside as an enormous piece of the door fell away, revealing the portcullis, "Justiciar! You and your squad, and all these heretics, are thrice-damned! By the order of the Inquisition!"
Thasis, psyker-flame dancing about him now, turned and bore down upon the Inquisitor with his glowing eyes and replied, "I do the Emperor's will, my Lord. Can you say the same for yourself?"
Ezekylus purpled and held out his hand; a massive lance of psi-flame ejected forth, and the Luna Wolves ducked as it came through the portcullis. Alcimus leaped forth, and with a swing of his halberd, batted it aside, landing gracefully, and then held his own hand out as a blast of psyker-light came through his eyepieces; lightning flowed forth from his outstretched hand, arcing towards Ezekylus. Chanting, the other Grey Knights came together, and placed hands upon Alcimus, focussing their psyker talents, sending another enormous blast against the Inquisitor Lord.
Bellowing, Ezekylus resisted the lightning; it arced into a sphere around him, and spreading his arms, he hovered slightly for a moment, eyes glowing, before sending a psychic blast of force through the portcullis, tearing it away in an instant and tumbling the Luna Wolves like so many toys; even Mattathias stumbled before the onslaught. The Grey Knights stood firm, and sent another blast in response. This one crushed Ezekylus' retainers and savants like Cadian mudtoads under a Baneblade; Ezekylus was shaken, but holding his hands out before him, he spat a few words.
Whoever was unlucky enough to be in the path of his words were slashed and flung about as though they had been struck with an enormous sword.
Brother Azazal’s arm flew off, and Brother Xalev's legs were cut out from under him, an enormous gouge chipped out of Mattathias' right shoulder armour, but the Grey Knights, again, stood firm, though Alcimus, being the channeler for their unified psychic force, was staggered. Inhaling deeply, he clenched his fists about his Nemesis weapon and struck it into the decking; mighty forces flowed through it, and erupted about Ezekylus' feet, consuming him in a whirlwind of flame and lightning.
When the smoke and dust cleared, Ezekylus was unconscious, sprawling on the deck with blood flowing from his nose and ears. Alcimus sagged, and the others held on to him, lifting him to his feet. It was but scant seconds after Ezekylus had broken through the door. Thasis' hands still hovered above Judas, chanting on. Picking up the rhythm, the Grey Knights took up the chant once more, and held their weapons at parade-rest across their chests. Trypho looked up from one of the injured Luna Wolves, shouted something Maccabeus couldn't hear to the Dreadnought, and ran out.
The chanting had increased in volume, and Thasis was beginning to sweat, by the time the Sergeant returned with Istvaran. The Inquisitor's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Ezekylus prostrate, but grinned with a fierce delight that turned to utter terror once he saw what was happening. He shouted, "No!"
But it was too late. The mighty psychic power of the unified Grey Knights squad channeled through Thasis into Judas Maccabeus was irreversible.
Maccabeus' arms corded and strove against their bonds; his back arched, jaw clenched, as a string of saliva emerged from the corner of his lip, and he screamed. His eyes glowed golden, light shining forth from his mouth, hands and feet; psychic lightning erupted above the altar, and the very ship itself shuddered.
A mighty thrust of his arms, and the manacles erupted from the stone of the altar; with a twist of his body, more bonds sprang free as Thasis stepped back and scrambled for his sword. Throwing aside their Nemesis weapons, Avaran and Eleazar leaped forward and grappled with Maccabeus, only to be flung aside as though weightless. Trypho and Asramel leaped forward to tackle him, but Judas, wreathed in psy-flame, swatted them out of the air, eyes unseeing, a trickle of blood coming from his lip where he had bitten it. The Justiciar grabbed him about the shoulders while Alcimus and Ismail each grabbed a leg-- to no avail; he flung Thasis backwards over the altar, and with a mighty leap upwards he ripped his legs free of the other two Knights.
He hovered in the air for a moment, arms outstretched, robes tattered...
And then was slammed against the back wall of the chapel by Mattathias, who had moved with unbelievable speed for his size. The Dreadnought roared, "Brother Chaplain Judas Maccabeus! You are a Space Marine! Remember thyself!"
Maccabeus, his eyes wide and unseeing, bellowed one word, "SANGUINIUS!"
Reaching down, he gripped the Dreadnought's arm, and muscles bunched, standing out powerfully on his neck, he bellowed again, "Sanguinius! Come to me!"
With a mighty twist of his body, a scream of tortured metal ripped forth as he tore Mattathias' arm off, and his foot thrusted out, sending the Dreadnought crashing backwards through the altar as the arm went flying, pieces hovering in the air as time seemed to stop.
His body convulsed suddenly, and landing on his feet, he stumbled to his knees, and his arms spread as his back arched, and he screamed again. A mighty blast of psychic force swept through the ship from stem to stern, tumbling crewmen, blowing the replacement Navigator's head apart, and destroying the power relays for half the ship.
When silence fell, Istvaran picked himself up off the floor and groped about in the darkness of the ruined chapel, calling out, "Luna Wolves? Sergeants? Grey Knights? Justiciar? Brother Mattathias? Is anybody there?"
Trypho called out, "Here, Inquisitor. I have Mattathias. He needs another arm, but is otherwise intact. Where's Judas?"
Groggily, Eleazar grumbled, "Oh, my head..." and then realized Thasis wasn't saying anything. He called out, "Justiciar? Are you there?"
A last green spark of psyker flame spat forth in response, illuminating Thasis' face; there was a soft snick as the psychic hood slid back into his collar. Thasis was bleeding from the nose and ears, but lucid; he called out, "Maccabeus? Are you there, Judas?"
And they turned as a soft golden light began to permeate the darkness. A glimpse... Thasis shook his head sharply, that couldn't be right. Had he seen...?
Judas Maccabeus knelt before the cracked statue of the Emperor, hands clasped, praying fervently. Blood flowed down his forehead, as though he was sweating it from his pores. His robes, torn and ripped, hung from his shoulders. A holy, sacred light shone forth from his face, diffusing through the chapel.
Reflexively, Thasis' knees bent, and around him, he could hear the conscious Luna Wolves gasping and doing the same. The Grey Knights bent their knees, as the Luna Wolves prostrated themselves. The Chaplain stood, and turned around to face his men. The Inquisitor drew in his breath as tears welled up in his eyes.
A beautiful, massive pair of wings, like eagles' pinions, flowed smoothly from Maccabeus' shoulder blades, full twelve feet in span. The brown and white feathers glowed faintly as Judas lifted his face, and Hammedatha Istvaran fell to his knees and bowed low. The recessive Sanguinius gene had manifested itself in Judas Maccabeus, and the Lord of Angels stood before the Adeptus Astartes once again.
It's a strange world. Let's keep it that way.
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Dartzap
- Sith Acolyte
- Posts: 5969
- Joined: 2002-09-05 09:56am
- Location: Britain, Britain, Britain: Land Of Rain
- Contact:
.... intresting, so Judases (sp? 
) geneseed Sanny mutation matured with all the psyker juice flying around? I'm so confused 
Is he then *THE* Primarch, or is he just a decendent kind of? Get on with explaining, dammit
) geneseed Sanny mutation matured with all the psyker juice flying around? I'm so confused Is he then *THE* Primarch, or is he just a decendent kind of? Get on with explaining, dammit EBC: Northeners, Huh! What are they good for?! Absolutely nothing!
Cybertron, Justice league...MM, HAB SDN City Watch: Sergeant Detritus
Days Unstabbed, Unabused, Unassualted and Unwavedatwithabutchersknife: 0
Cybertron, Justice league...MM, HAB SDN City Watch: Sergeant Detritus
Days Unstabbed, Unabused, Unassualted and Unwavedatwithabutchersknife: 0
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Elheru Aran
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 13073
- Joined: 2004-03-04 01:15am
- Location: Georgia
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Academia Nut
- Sith Devotee
- Posts: 2598
- Joined: 2005-08-23 10:44pm
- Location: Edmonton, Alberta
Awesome, simply awesome. I mean, we all saw it coming, but awesome nonetheless.
And the Blood Angels are going to shit a brick when they find out.
And the Blood Angels are going to shit a brick when they find out.
I love learning. Teach me. I will listen.
You know, if Christian dogma included a ten-foot tall Jesus walking around in battle armor and smashing retarded cultists with a gaint mace, I might just convert - Noble Ire on Jesus smashing Scientologists
You know, if Christian dogma included a ten-foot tall Jesus walking around in battle armor and smashing retarded cultists with a gaint mace, I might just convert - Noble Ire on Jesus smashing Scientologists
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Elheru Aran
- Emperor's Hand
- Posts: 13073
- Joined: 2004-03-04 01:15am
- Location: Georgia