Promethium in Paradise (40k) (Part 18 posted)

[Raj Ahten]

I"m for expostion myself. Powerfull relics usually prove to be interesting.

[Academia Nut]

Exposition it is. Here, this one is... kind of long, but now you know what the stakes are.

Part 7: Iron Ancestors

The small, prefabricated Adeptus Facility had been cool and dry in comparison to the warm, moist air of the jungle at night, but this place had a completely different atmosphere. Here it was hot and dry, like the air streaming off of a forge, smelling of chemicals heated to the joint of breakdown into simpler forms.

The tunnel was long and gently sloping, going deep into the earth and the centre of the mountain that dominated this island, the way lit by lights at regular intervals. Where in the Ad Mech facility the machine spirits had been reluctant to rise to their duties after millennia of neglect, in this tunnel there was no flicker and all the panels worked.

Finally, after almost two minutes of the dull thud of his boots striking the plasteel floors, Kaleb reached the bottom, where the tunnel opened up into an enormous cavern. Composed of a half sphere with a diameter of approximately four hundred metres, the centre of the room was taken up by a circular hole about two hundred metres across. Suspended from the ceiling above the hole was an enormous contraption of arcane technology, the centre of the mass of pipes, cables, and girders dominated by a perfect sphere with a radius of perhaps fifty metres.

Along the periphery of the chamber was more technology of unknown function that would probably take a Forge World’s worth of Techpriests centuries to tease all the secrets from. One area, right at the edge of the central hole caught Kaleb’s eyes, partly because it had some ancient Ad Mech paraphernalia still scattered about, but mostly because it screamed ‘Command Station’ to him.

Walking up to it, Kaleb righted a fallen censer and then, while loathe to use up his small supply, he crumbled some of his incense into it and lit it. Saying every prayer he had been taught for the purposes of handling the Chapter’s equipment, Kaleb beseeched the machine spirit to forgive his ignorance of its activation rituals, and then pressed a rune that appeared to say ‘Power’ in an old dialect of High Gothic.

Amazingly the display screen burst into life as if it was brand new and Kaleb was the Fabricator General of Mars. After a few moments to warm up, the machine said in a flat, vaguely feminine voice says in an old dialect of High Gothic, “Welcome to the Lazarus Project, Station Alpha One. Plus state name and rank.”

“I am Kaleb Tamrat, Veteran Terminator Sergeant of the Salamanders Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes,” Kaleb states formally.

“Username and rank unidentified. Creation of new guest user account ‘Kaleb Tamrat’ confirmed. Guest account only allows access to non-classified information. To upgrade account category please speak to one of the administrators,” the machine states.

“Who are the administrators?” Kaleb asks.

“Seaghdh Oswald, status: unknown, presumed deceased. Dante Russell, status: unknown, presumed deceased. Anas Sid, status: unknown, presumed deceased. Maria Kylli, status: unknown, presumed deceased. Kai, status: active,” the machine lists off, raising an eyebrow at that last one. Did explain how Kai had obtained the knife though.

Shrugging, Kaleb asks, “What are you?”

“Please restate question,” the computer says.

Gesturing to the entire room, Kaleb asks, “What is this place then? What does it do?”

“This is Station Alpha One of the Lazarus Project. Functions include primary power generation for the project, oversight of project, and supervision of secondary installations,” the machine rattles off.

“Then what is the Lazarus Project?” Kaleb asks.

The active view screen, which until now had been displaying a symbol that had lost significance in all probability before the rise of the Imperium, switched over to a view of a crowded hive world from orbit. The voice begins, although this time it has less of the flatness indicating that it is probably pre-recorded.

“For tens of thousands of years humans have been building cities larger and more crowded, the rich typically rising above the filth and despair that clutch at the less fortunate. Some will move on to wild and untamed frontiers, seeking something better. However, the average planet in the galaxy is unaccommodating to humans and human civilization. Some have settled on such worlds anyway, braving the harsh environments in the hope of something better. However, the societal compromises on such extreme worlds have often resulted in worse situations than before.

“The Lazarus project, like many previous projects of the type, is a joint technological and societal experiment to try and bypass the random circumstances that result in such unfortunate societies by controlling the scenario explicitly from the beginning. Where Lazarus differs from such prior projects is that Lazarus seeks to be complete within one human generation and avoid the generational drift of such disasters as New Eden.”

The view screen, which had been cycling through various worlds and showing the multitude of disasters that befell them, then switched to a dead world, an airless ball of rock and ice shrouded in darkness far from its primary star, flanked by two small moons.

“Step one is the identification of a suitable world, primary factors being the suitability of its star and the mineral resources of the world. Step two is the installation of Alpha Stations One through Twelve,” twelve dots of light then appear on the planet, scattered about in a vague pattern. “With the Alpha Stations operational, they can begin the terraforming program, altering the planet’s orbital distance, orbital period, and rotational period to Terran norms while reigniting the core and promoting volcanism to replenish the atmosphere.”

Kaleb’s eyes bugged out in awe at the power of the Dark Age of Technology as he realized that the dead world pictured was the paradise he was currently standing on and that was being altered before his eyes on the screen.

“Once primary terraforming was completed, step three saw the installation of the Beta Stations to introduce flora and fauna to the planet. Historical, biological, and sociological factors meant that the various biospheres were modelled after various semi-mythical places such as ‘Hawaii’, ‘New Zealand’, ‘the Caribbean’, and ‘the Mediterranean’, considered ideal environments for humans.”

The planet then begins to sprout greenery across its lifeless surface, spreading out from each of the dozens of glowing dots spread across its surface.

“Step four was the introduction of the Gamma Stations to begin the preparation for the colonists. Automated central factories with deep core resource gathering capacities would be capable of supporting an advanced civilization of 3 billion, although projected figures would place the population at less than 1 billion. Sociological goal was to have small groups spread across the planet, interconnected by rapid transit networks, with primary and secondary industries performed by automated systems while food gathering would be performed by the populace from the wild. With advanced technology and an ideal environment, the intent was to recreate the psychological background humans evolved for while retaining the benefits of advanced technology.”

“What went wrong?” Kaleb asks at last.

Returning to the flatter voice, the machine states, “Ultimately the sociological factor, although primary cause of failure is attributed to the large scale Warp storms that rerouted, presumed destroyed, the colonization fleet and isolated the system, leaving only approximately a million people, workers and supervisors for the project mostly, to colonize it. For a time everything went well, but fears that the Lazarus Project itself led to the storms fermented over several generations until the population was polarized into two major factions that eventually exploded into war.”

“The beginning of the dance,” Kaleb mutters darkly, seeing where this was going.

“The war was, for lack of a better term, messy. Colonization patterns and rapid transit and communication led to no fixed boundaries at the beginning of the war. In addition, there were no heavy weapons available, or even in the data banks, which led to a prolonging of the war to the point where after several generations the meanings behind actions became lost and the ease of living encouraged conservative behaviour. To a certain extent the weapons improved, but for the most part it was highly ritualized, the point less to seize territory than to kill a few people before retreating. So long as the factories kept giving them guns, the battles continued, bloody and senseless.

“After several thousand years the Warp storms cleared up and new people arrived, forcing a peace between the warring factions, although they left within a few months of arrival. Unfortunately they had brought their own ideological battles with them, and soon the population turned upon itself, this time with the knowledge of how to wage a proper war. Most of the Beta and Gamma Stations were destroyed in the fighting.

“Finally the choice was made by one faction, who retained control of the Alpha Stations, to force an end to the fighting. Evacuating their people to shelters, they used the terraforming function of the Alpha Stations to force the eruption of every volcano on the planet, thus destroying their opponents. This of course destroyed their civilization, and without the Gamma Stations they quickly degenerated into a pre-agricultural society. Last known contact before the arrival of Administrator Kai was with Administrator Maria several thousand years ago. Breakdown of internal chronometer has made exact measure of time impossible to determine.”

Taking this all in, Kaleb finally asks, “How does Kai fit into all of this.”

“Access to information on Administrator Kai is restricted for guest users. Please speak to an administrator if you wish for higher security clearance,” the computer states.

Shrugging, Kaleb says, “Okay, so aside from making volcanoes explode, what can you do?”

“As Station Alpha One is currently the only remaining Alpha Station, the others destroyed by the tectonic activity they unleashed and only Station Alpha One had the power generation capacities to shield from the destruction, such activities are impossible. Degradation of the databanks has also reduced manufacturing capacity severely as 99% of the templates have been lost.”

“Wait… templates?” Kaleb asks, a sort of icy hand closing about his guts, not quite fear, but about as close as a Marine could feel.

“Yes. All Alpha and Gamma Stations had full STC libraries of templates deemed useful for the project, in addition to the Gamma Stations being Standard Template Constructors themselves,” the machine states, the view screen showing a variety of schematics.

It took Kaleb a moment to process what was said before his breathing resumed, at which point he screamed, “What?”

“All Alpha and Gamma Stations had full STC libraries of templates deemed useful for the project, in addition to the Gamma Stations being Standard Template Constructors themselves,” the machine repeats.

“How many are left?” Kaleb demands, frantically.

“Currently five Gamma Stations are intact enough that repeater stations can confirm their locations. All others are presumed obliterated,” the machine says, showing a global map of the small continents and archipelagos that make up the planet, with five green dots scattered about and one white one to presumably represent the current location.

Five Standard Template Constructors and a facility with a STC library? The only way Vulkan could have left the planet with the Techpriests was if they had no idea the treasure trove they had discovered.

“Are the Gamma Stations as hidden as this station?” Kaleb asks.

“Yes. The Lazarus Project was attempting to separate humanity from the grime and despair of industrialism while retaining its benefits, so all Gamma Stations were located underground away from planned population centres.”

“And the others who were here, the ones who built the outpost at the end of this tunnel, they never found out about all of this?” Kaleb asks.

“Access to information on other users is restricted for guest users. Please speak to an administrator if you wish for higher security clearance,” the machine states.

Deciding that in all probability the Techpriests had never got around to actually turning the machine on, they probably had much longer activation rituals for such a device than Kaleb had used, Kaleb figures that he is the first person from the Imperium to know that such wonders existed. If it had not been for the Heresy…

The blood drained from Kaleb’s face.

“Can you detect teleportation?” Kaleb asks.

“Teleportation within the orbit of the planet’s moons without authorization is prohibited as the power systems of Station Alpha One disrupt the Warp. Unauthorized teleportation may result in unexpected time dilation, trauma related brain damage, unexplained loss or addition of body parts, or loss of signal. Please request assistance before attempt teleportation,” the machine states, the voice changing to sound pre-recorded again.

Explains why those two Iron Warriors were so incompetent and appeared with so little warning so long after the destruction of their ship. Still, that did not exactly answer Kaleb’s question.

“How many unauthorized teleportation events have been recorded within the past 76 hours?” Kaleb asks.

“Seven, resolving into twenty-eight unique signals. One event with four different signals was scattered by the power generator, all signals presumed lost. One event with two signals was caught in a Warp tide and suffered time dilation before resolving close to Station Alpha One approximately eleven hours ago. Three events with a total of fifteen signals were completed without noticeable dilation, although integrity of the signals is unknown. Two events with the remaining five signals have yet to finish.”

Twenty-two Traitor Marines scattered across a planet with a more or less defenceless population ready for conquest, with five STCs as the prize and…

“Wait, what? Power generation?” Kaleb asks.

“Please restate the question,” the machine replies.

“Why is the Station Alpha One power generator disrupting the Warp?” Kaleb demands.

“Initial estimates showed that current power generation technologies were several orders of magnitude insufficient to successfully move a planetary system through the Warp and generate the necessary protective Gellar field. Thus Station Alpha One uses an experimental Warp energy tap while the remaining Alpha Stations used conventional Warp energy taps. In order to increase power output, the experimental generator utilizes a modified form of the Gellar field to generate turbulence in the Warp. This acts as a filter by annihilating any hostile extra-dimensional entity before it can reach the tap, the primary limit on the output of conventional taps. It also compresses the fabric of the Warp before it reaches the tap, allowing for a higher density of energy extracted by the tap.”

They moved the planet through the Warp. And while Kaleb barely understood what was said, he knew he had one more question to ask.

“Could you use this tap to create a hole to the Warp?” He asks with baited breath.

“All Warp energy taps have safeguards to prevent real space interaction with Warp space, but such a thing is theoretically possible. Information on how to do this is not stored within this database. Attempting such a break of safeguards is prohibited as the tap is sufficiently powerful to move the planet into the Warp and thus such dangerous activity could result in the establishment of a stable interface the size of the star system.”

Okay, so aside from the standard stakes of millions of lives and souls, Kaleb now had to fight twenty-two Traitor Marines for the prize of five STCs and the capacity to create a new daemon world and a mini Maelstrom. Mildly in shock, he just walked away from the console, leaving the place in silence again.

After a few minutes the computer declared, “Logging off guest user Kaleb Tamrat,” before shutting down.

[HSRTG]

Well, I'm glad the stakes aren't too high. No pressure Kaleb.

[Academia Nut]

He's a Space Marine, a Terminator, and a Salamander. He's used to long odds

[Dominus]

Bloody hell, that was an awesome cahapter, and a real eye-opener at that. Admittedly, a little voice in my mind was whispering "STC! STC!" as soon as the Mechanicus temple appeared a few chapters back, but I never thought the stakes would be quite so high. Staunch Imperialist that I am, I certainly hope Kaleb is at least partly successful; securing a feral world and its hidden cache of archaeo-technology when the odds are stacked so soundly against him will be no easy job, especially when you're outnumbered 21-to-1. Anyway, I'm sick and tired of the perennial "ZOMG the Imperium is primitive forever!!" state of affairs, and I think it's time some of the remnants from the Dark Age of Technology started to fall into its lap. Even the recovery of just one of those Constructors would go a long way towards helping the Imperium... Provided the tech-priests don't just lock it away on Mars, never to be seen again.

In any case, I think this chapter raised as many questions as it answered -- such as how in the name of the Emperor a little psyker like Kai managed to get himself an administrator account on that cogitator. And how can Kai even understand what it's saying, given that it's speaking in a very archaic flavor of High Gothic?

Anyway, do continue with this. You've made a staunch fan out of me.

[Enigma]

CAn anyone explain to me what STCs are?

[HSRTG]

CAn anyone explain to me what STCs are?

Standard Template Constructors, essentially they build shit that's really fucking advanced. Technology from the Golden Age that's lost to the galaxy now. Mankind in 40k used to be pretty much all-that, and the STCs were what built their stuff. In the current 40k era, STC's are invaluable and irreplaceable.

Do you wish to know more?

[Academia Nut]

How about the fact that Horus managed to get half of the Ad Mech to turn traitor during the Heresy over the promise of giving them unlimited access to a bunch of STCs, or that when a couple of scouts in the 41st millennium found a purpose built STC only capable of making a certain kind of knife, they were given a planet, each, in payment for their discovery. They're that precious in 40k.

[Academia Nut]

Here's a chapter that I've been wanting to write for a few days now and just had to get down. I hope you enjoy reading it, I know I enjoyed writing it.

Part 8: Paths of Fire

By the time Kaleb returned to the village, it was midnight and the moons were both below the horizon and his mind had calmed down, although his guts were still churning. A Space Marine might not know fear, but he could still know stress and doubt, although to a much lesser extent than a normal man. It wasn’t worry over the battles that lay ahead of him; he had lost such troubles when he was a scout. No, it was worry over what he had to say next. He was no Chaplain, but he had to play the part now.

When he entered the clearing for the village, only Kai and Kansbar were waiting for him, the old shaman holding a torch next to a large pile of wood. In the dim light, Kai looked almost spectral, the strain on his body having left him pale and gaunt. Still, he smiled with childish enthusiasm as Kaleb approached.

“We heard your cries before,” Kansbar says, as if it explained everything.

“It was so loud it woke me up,” Kai adds on brightly.

His heart breaking at the smile on Kai’s face and the dark future that awaited him, Kaleb says, “Glad it was good for something.”

Kansbar then hands Kaleb a large gourd filled with the alcoholic brew that the villagers made. It was a good two litres worth of alcohol, at about 15% by volume. Kaleb downed every last drop in one go before taking the torch from Kansbar.

“You were born of fire, you deserve to hold court by it Salamander,” Kansbar says.

“You really creep me out witch,” Kaleb says, although with little venom.

Shrugging, the old man says, “All things come with a price.”

Sighing in exasperation, Kaleb thrusts the torch into the wood pile, igniting the pile. He then instructs, “Go old man, gather everyone in the village. Man and woman, young and old. I want everyone to be able to look those they love, those whose futures are on the line here, before they answer my question.”

“Of course,” Kansbar says with a nod, before shuffling off to the task.

Kai turns to follow, but Kaleb holds up a hand and says, “Wait; there is something I must ask you Kai.”

“Yes?” Kai asks, stopping in his tracks.

“How did you talk with the… ancestors?” Kaleb asks, deciding to go with the boy’s terminology.

Shrugging the boy says, “I… I couldn’t understand the Spirit Tongue, but I could hear them in my mind. I asked them questions, and they answered, and eventually they gave me the knife to show I had their favour.”

Machine empath. Extremely strong at that. No doubt about it. Explained why he had administrator access too. He had simply willed himself command of the machine and it had complied, giving him everything he asked for. In a sense he was chosen by his ancestors.

After a few minutes the whole village had gathered about the fire, quite timid from the roar they had heard earlier in the night, but all wanting to come see what their new giant protector had to say.

Gazing over the gathered people, seeing all the sleepy eyed children staring at him, Kaleb cleared his throat and began.

“Last night, I saw your dance. I did not have the basics of your language at the time, but I understood the story, for I know your story from another perspective. I know your double headed eagle god and your raptor headed devil, for they are my god and devil,” Kaleb says, eliciting a brief murmur through the crowd.

“You know the… middle of that story, but not the beginning or end. So I will tell it to you, for it has bearing on a question I must ask, a decision that must be made. So listen well,” Kaleb says.

Pacing for a moment, he continues, “In the beginning, there was the Emperor, your golden double headed eagle. He saw the evil things men do to one another, and decided to put an end to it, embarking on a Great…” Kaleb faltered, the language not having the word to properly describe a crusade, so he says instead, “Raid, to sweep away all that was foul and corrupt and unite all the heavens under the wisdom and security of his banner. To aid him in his battles, he created a race of warriors, my race, and set one of his twenty sons to lead twenty tribes of such men.

“The first and favourite son was Horus, your raptor headed devil. He was the greatest warrior in all the heavens, and when the Emperor retired from his raids to prepare for the next great step humanity would take, he trusted Horus to lead all of the tribes against their enemies. But Horus was not content. He let the glory go to his head, and in his pride, he felt that all the praise that rightfully went to the Emperor should go to him. So he turned brother against brother, taking half the tribes with him while slaughtering many of those still loyal to the Emperor, nearly wiping out my own tribe. He then cut a swath of destruction to the Emperor’s village, where warriors still loyal held their ground with stubborn tenacity,” Kaleb says, feeling his blood and passion begin to rise with every word as he tried to stoke the same fires he felt when the Chaplains spoke of such things.

“With the attack stalling, Horus knew that he could not delay further, so he opened the gates to his lair, beckoning the Emperor and his champions to come forth into the trap. The Emperor took the bait, not knowing that more tribes loyal to him would arrive shortly and that such an act was unnecessary. Once within the lair of the Traitor, foul sorceries separated the war party, scattering them through a vast maze filled with hostile forces,” Kaleb continues, feeling the eagerness of the crowd to know more, to know what had become of the battle between their gods.

“The first to reach the Traitor was his brother, Sanguinius. A nobler warrior could not be found, and the two immediately took to battle. But while the Emperor’s Angel was by far the better warrior, the blasphemies Horus had committed had granted him the favour of dark things, empowering him and letting him brutally butcher his brother, leaving his corpse for the Emperor to find.

“And find he did, for the next one to reach the traitor was the Emperor himself. The Emperor urged Horus to turn from his dark path, but the Traitor simply laughed and called the Emperor a fool before the two went to battle. And what a battle it must have been, the two greatest combatants ever, one on the side of all that was good and pure, while the other was on the side of darkness and daemons. Yet the Emperor did not fight with his all, for this was his son before him! What father could bear the heart-ache of slaying his first and most treasured son? So Horus gravely wounded his father.”

Pausing for a moment to let the audience digest this, Kaleb says, “No one knows quite for sure what happened next, but someone loyal to the Emperor walked in on this, only to be struck down by the Traitor in a most horrific and savage way. Seeing the casual brutality of his son, the Emperor knew that the man he had once trusted most was gone from him. So gathering his strength, the Emperor slew the Traitor in a single mighty blow, banishing the monsters summoned from the shadows with the death cry of their master. Soon after another of the Emperor’s loyal sons found him and brought his shattered body back to the village, where to this day he yet rests, still recovering from the wounds to his body and spirit, yet still watching over all people in his stillness and silence.”

“Why do I tell you this story? Because of the man who fought and died for the Emperor, and more specifically, his identity. People say three things about that man and who he was. Most say that he was one of the Emperor’s personal bodyguards, unto my people as mine are unto yours. A few say that the man was a warrior of the tribe of the man who found the fallen Emperor, but only a few believe that, mostly because they are from the tribe of said man.” This last statement elicited a few chuckles from the crowd, and Kaleb figured he would have to leave that part out of the story if he ever told it to any Imperial Fists or their successor chapters.

“But there are also a few, my tribe included, that believe that it was not a man born for war and nothing else like me, but rather just a man, following the Emperor and all he stood for into that den of evil. Why do my tribe believe that? Because unlike the other two possibilities, to do such a thing as that took real courage. The Emperor decreed that my people would know no fear, so we know no fear, simple as that. Confronted with two gods doing battle, all we can do is roar our defiance and charge forward. But that man, that small, frail, breakable man in comparison to those doing battle before him, he had a choice! What fear must have struck him, to see the fury of their fight, to see his Emperor fallen before him? But what courage! To see two paths open up before him, one into inevitable death and oblivion and one into darkness and safety, and to chose death? That is courage my people can only wish for!” Kaleb cries out, the flames behind him pale to the fire in his breast and voice.

“And now I present to you such a choice. Those monsters that attacked you today are from the tribes that followed Horus and still plague us today, and there are more. I shall go forth and find them and fight them, but I do not know what tribes they might turn to evil before then, and I do not know what blasphemies they might bring into your world. All I know is that the resting place of your ancestors will draw them, like flies to honey, and they will come to break your peace again. So I humbly ask you, ask you for I am no tyrant like them, that you stand by my side, that you face death and oblivion with me, that we drive off these invaders before they foul our lands, poison your waters, rape your women, and enslave your children. If you follow me, then there will be death and suffering and fire. Mothers will send children off and never see them again. Fathers will return bearing scars upon the body and soul that will never heal, tainting their children’s future. If you chose not to follow me, then perhaps when the daemons come if you meekly lay down your weapons they will take what they want and some of you will live. Perhaps. Some. So what say you?” Kaleb asks the hushed crowd.

For several seconds the only sound is the crackle of the fire and the hushed breathing of the people as they try to digest all this, but then a small voice says, “I will.”

Shocked, the whole village turns and opens up to see Peni, the small girl from the afternoon, holding up her hand, a defiant look on her face. Despite the darkness, the attention draws to light the enormous bruising covering her upper body and neck from where the Traitor Marine grabbed her earlier in the day. Her mother moves to silence the girl, but then the man standing next to her, probably her father, raises his hand and says, “I will.”

Soon a chorus of voices rises up, all calling out, “I will,” and Kaleb’s heart nearly breaks to see all the children old enough to hear his words with their hands raised high proudly. Tears leaking down his face for the second time in one night, he then looks down to find a sullen looking Kai with his hand still down.

“What’s the matter freak, scared?” Someone calls out, but Kaleb silences further comments with a raise of his hand and a dirty look.

Bending down, Kaleb asks softly, “Did you see something Kai?”

Looking up, tears down his face, Kai says, “I… I saw your words. I saw the Emperor and Horus fighting. I saw that man. The screams… the screams… and then I saw two paths open up before me… and there was only fire and screaming.”

Smiling lightly, Kaleb asks, “Kai… were the fires those of a destructive holocaust, annihilating all in its path and leaving only mouldering ash in their wake, or were they the fires of the forge, burning out the dross and leaving only pure, strong metal in their wake?” Despite the words ‘forge’, ‘dross’, and ‘metal’ not existing in the primitive language, Kaleb knew he got his point across.

“I… I don’t know,” Kai admits.

“Then let us take one of these paths of fire, and tame the flames to our will. Let the flames be those that cleanse our souls and the screams be those of our enemies! Let the whole world burn if it must, so long as at the end, we are the phoenix that rises from the ashes!” Kaleb declares.

Looking more hale and hearty than he had since the afternoon, Kai too stands up and says, “I will!”

“What say you all?” Kaleb cries out.

“I WILL!” The entire tribe cries back, fists pumping in the air.

Smiling, Kaleb then says, “Then those of you that face death with such courage, let us get some sleep, for when the sun rises tomorrow it shall be the first of many days to come where every breath you take shall be because of your courage and faith in the Emperor.”

Dispersing, Kaleb once more holds Kai back and says, “Tomorrow we shall return to the cave of the ancestors, and you and I will ask them for weapons to aid in this task.”

Kai nods knowingly and then rushes off for his bed.

[HSRTG]

Nice take on the Salamander's view of things. Very nice. I can definetely say I enjoyed reading it.

[Dominus]

Nice work on this one. The rhythm and cadence of Kaleb's little story was perfect for the story it meant to convey, I think; and what better way to narrate the most epic battle in all of Warhammer history to a tribe of feral humans? I doubt that he could have gotten the point across in a more succinct form if he had a troupe of Harlequins with him. That was some good writing on your part.

Ah, so that's how Kai could access the ancient database and get himself set up as an administrator. Clever. Machine empathy is definitely something you don't see very often (if at all) in 40k fluff, at least in my experience; it's no wonder I overlooked that possibility. Now, let's get to purging those traitors!

[Elessar]

This story is most excellent. I'm enjoying it greatly so far and loved the way the three differing views were presented.

True courage of one of the Imperial Guard... I wonder if that's jealousy in the air.

[HSRTG]

I have to ask, did the template libraries on the Gamma stations survive at all? The Alpha site's databanks hadn't I know, but you've been quiet about the status of the various Gammas. Or is that a [Spooky Echo Voice]Plot Point[/SEV]?

[Academia Nut]

It's not exactly jealousy so much as a desire to emulate something they can't really do, because unlike most, the Salamanders recognize that courage is not the absence of fear, but the capacity to overcome it, and the Marines know no fear, so there you have it.

And as for the Gamma stations, I tried to imply that their status is unknown, but that most are probably heavily damaged and probably have incomplete libraries, but they won't know until they get there.

[Academia Nut]

Perspective change! Cryptic foreshadowing! Not so cryptic foreshadowing! Enjoy.

Part 9: Dreaming Dawn

The figure was shrouded in a long robe, face concealed behind a cowl. The body beneath the flowing cream fabric edged in intricate interlacing red and gold was slight, almost comical with the gigantic red and gold sword slung across the back, wicked teeth of the saw-like blade glinting silver and black in the sun. Held proudly in one hand was a thick tome, bound with green and brown leather and thick brass buckles.

For a moment the shrouded figure stood in a world of serene silence before hell exploded all around, the air burning with criss-crossing lines of burning light. The figure did not mind, quietly reading from the tome, many of the lines simply stopping dead shortly before the tranquillity of the figure.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the figure snapped the book shut, letting it fall to the side on a length of chain that secured the tome about the waist. Hauling the enormous sword off the back, the figure raised it high and set its teeth spinning in a terrible whir. From behind the figure came a terrible roar, a thousand voices crying out in defiance, and from beneath the hood the figure began to say something.

Darkness.

…535 89793 23846 26433 83279 50288 41971 69399 37…

The singing of the holy numbers roused him from his slumber. The quiet sanctuary smelled of incense and oil, and the dozen gilded servitors upon the walls leant to the peace with their soft harmonious recitation of the sacred mysteries of numbers with their crystal clear voices.

Mechadendrites lifting his rust red robes over his shoulders, he looked out upon the great production fields as numerous priests made ready their final preparations for the birth of a new god. Rising from its cradle, blowing off umbilical cords supplying power and fuel, it took its first shuddering steps on its own strength, its armoured plates glistening with blessed oils like amniotic fluid. The completion of a Titan was a truly glorious thing.

He turned within his chambers to gaze upon…

Darkness.

Everything was slick with blood. His own, his enemies, his friends. It took him a moment to gain any traction, his feet slipping on the blood and entrails that coated the metal floor, but soon he found his footing and he was moving. Fire filled his lungs and ice his limbs, but he still had the strength to go on, for the knife had yet to come from his grasp.

It was good, sturdy steel with a hilt wrapped in leather. Steel had yet to fail him.

Although it just might fail now, in the face of the cackling monster that filled his world. Clad in black plate that seemed to radiate with unholiness and a sense of the unclean, the thing’s face was concealed behind an ornate helmet of curling black wrought iron, only its eyes, its burning red eyes, visible.

As his frantic charge grew nearer, that awful, terrible face expanded to fill his vision until only the red eyes were staring at him, peeling back to his flesh to gaze contemptuously at his soul and judge it unworthy.

Screaming.

Kai awoke with a start, wailing for parents who were no longer there. The hut was cold and unwelcoming without them, especially now that a layer or rapidly melting hoar frost covered the inside. Shiver with frost and fright, Kai, wrapped his blanket more tightly around himself and tried to shut away those burning eyes from his dreams. He tried not to cry, but the tears came anyway. Tears of fear, tears of loss, tears of loneliness.

He feared his dreams, not just for the nightmares they brought him, but for fear of what the others would do when they found out. Kansbar had been tutoring him for about a year now, and Kai knew how lonely the old man was living out there, away from the village, no one to really talk to but the other freak in the lot. The other children had started shunning him ever since his abilities had begun to manifest, only Peni sticking by him.

Smiling, Kai wondered if perhaps that was because she was stranger than him. She… bossy was perhaps not the right word, she was just knew when she was right and no one was going to stand in her way once she knew this. Her faith and confidence had no limits, and she had declared the first day it had been revealed that Kai was special that he would do great things, and had stuck with him ever since.

Exiting the hut and looking up at the predawn sky, Kai knew that Peni would still be sleeping. Looking about the village, he saw that Kaleb was not where he had been last night, although the giant seemed to need far less sleep than normal people. Guided by instinct, Kai moved through the cool, dark forest to the beach where he had first waited for the man who would change the village.

How little he had known then just what his dreams would bring. The hurt was still raw, both to his heart from his loss, and to his mind and body in paying the price in saving Kaleb and Peni. While they said he had only wandered from his body for a few hours, it had felt like an eternity as his mind was cast about in that screaming void. Kansbar said that if that had happened anywhere else he would have killed Kai immediately lest something else take his body while his mind was away.

Kai shuddered. Ever since Kaleb arrived, so much death had entered his world.

Arriving at the beach, Kai stopped cold as he gazed upon what lay there. Close to three metres tall, it was looked like a cross between Kaleb and the things that had attacked yesterday. The armour was closer in design to the monsters, but it was coloured like Kaleb’s and had none of the unclean aura of the evil creatures.

Just then Kaleb’s head broke the surface of the waves a fair ways out, slowly working his way towards shore. Eventually it became apparent he was dragging something beneath the surface of the water, and as he came in on the shore, it was revealed to be another body like the one already resting quietly upon the beach.

Kai watched in awe as Kaleb brought the body up onto the beach, the weight obviously enormous, muscles rippling with the strain of supporting the bulk without the aid of the water. Naked except for a simple loincloth, Kai could see for the first time the scars that covered Kaleb’s flesh like the crags on the rind of a pulpfruit.

Setting the body down next to the other one, Kaleb straightened out the legs and folded the arms over the chest, before saying a prayer in his own tongue. Kai watched on respectfully until Kaleb finished and addressed him.

“Bad dreams Kai?” Kaleb asked.

Kai nodded.

“I don’t doubt it. Such wounds as yours do not heal quick,” Kaleb says with a sigh.

“How do you do it?” Kai asks.

“Do what?” Kaleb asks.

Kai gestures to the countless scars across Kaleb’s body.

“Ah. Yes… I suppose you could say that it is because I don’t feel the way you do,” Kaleb says.

After a moment, he sits down and pats the sand beside him, indicating for Kai to follow suit.

“My… people you could say… were built for war by the Emperor,” Kaleb begins.

“I remember you saying that last night,” Kai points out with childish enthusiasm.

Smiling, Kaleb says, “Yes, I did. Well, we also live for a very long time. Would you believe that I have lived for over two hundred summers?”

Kai opens his mouth to reject such a thing, but considering the faded remnants of battle on Kaleb’s flesh, and all the other incredible things about him, such old age was not so hard to swallow, so Kai just snaps his jaw shut without saying a word.

“Learning wisdom already I see. Well, no man’s heart could stand to fight so long and hard without breaking and along with it his spirit becoming dull and ineffective. So we do not feel like normal men. To lose brothers hurts, but I cannot linger long on their deaths, for I know they died well and there will be another battle to fight where more brothers will be lost, or were I might die. I simply accept this and go on,” Kaleb explains, although Kai cannot really believe him. How could he just let go of pain such as what he felt over the loss of his parents?

“So you… just forget them?” Kai asks morosely.

“No, never forget,” Kaleb states firmly while gazing down mournfully at the fallen bodies. “My heart is simply different from yours. Where you must feel like it has been ripped out… well, come listen to this,” Kaleb says, tapping the centre of his chest.

Standing up and still only barely able to get his ear up to the point Kaleb indicates, Kai presses his ear against the giant’s chest, hearing the powerful lub-dub of his heart… hearts? Recoiling in shock, Kai looks up at a grinning Kaleb.

“I have two, so that if one breaks, the other can carry on until it heals,” Kaleb explains.

“I wish I had two hearts…” Kai says sullenly, envious of Kaleb’s inability to feel pain like he did.

Kaleb is silent for a moment, before saying, “You could.”

“What? How?” Kai asks, shocked by the statement.

“The Emperor is powerful indeed, do you think he cannot change your form, remake you? I was once a little boy, a long, long time ago, but the Emperor changed me, made me a part of a new tribe, and gave me the strength to protect those I loved. I lost a great deal, but I also gained much, and I would never go back on the trade,” Kaleb says.

“Could the Emperor do that for me?” Kai asks.

“Do not seek power in times of despair in hopes of dulling the pain. Down that path lies death and damnation,” Kaleb scolds, and Kai hangs his head in shame, although he does not really understand why he should be ashamed.

“Also, you are still too young, and the decision is up to my tribe, for only they can beseech the Emperor to change someone into a warrior like us, so until they find me, nothing can happen. However… if you are brave and strong and pure of heart, you may one day find yourself standing before the leaders of my tribe and find acceptance,” Kaleb adds on.

Kai perks up at this, only to see Kaleb looking at him with eyes intense as the maw of a volcano, the rising sun turning them into twin pools of lava.

“One more thing,” he says. “You must have control over your abilities, or we will kill you to keep you and those around you safe. I may trust Kansbar about as far as I can throw him, admittedly quite far as he is rather light and I am very strong, but you must heed his words and his instructions, and learn to shield yourself from the dangers your powers represent.”

“Kill me to keep me safe?” Kai asks fearfully.

“Have you ever seen a man explode from the inside out from the daemon’s possessing his body and ripping his soul apart?” Kaleb asks flatly.

“No,” Kai says in a tiny voice.

“Pray you never do, and train hard so that it never happens to you,” Kaleb says, getting a far off look in his face.

“Now, perhaps you should get some food and then talk to Kansbar about your nightmares and how to rid yourself of them. I still have several more trips into the water to make, and then more prayer and rituals as I prepare my brother’s bodies and their equipment. When I am done we shall return to the cavern of the ancestors like I promised,” Kaleb says, standing up and heading back for the water.

Getting up himself, Kai watches as the enormous man wades back into the waves, and wonders if the dulling of the pain the conversation brought felt good or not, before he turns and heads into the forest.

[Dominus]

Ah, the great dichotomy of psykers -- on the one hand, the Imperium would collapse in days without astropaths to relay messages across the void or Navigators to guide ships through the warp; on the other, does anyone really think Chaos would be that much of a problem if the human race were completely warp-blank, like, say, the Tau or Necrons?

Great chapter. Now hurry up and reveal to us what all that bloody foreshadowing was portending...

[Vehrec]

First a vission of a Librarian or a Chaplain. Probably a Librarian, but I wouldn't rule Chaplain out just yet. Then we have a tech-magos, one of not inconsiderable skill and ability. Lastly we have a fight between Kai and what sounds like an Iron Warrior. And the blatent foreshadowing of 'You could be a Space Marine'.
I wonder what fate there is for little Peni. Bossy, brave, loyal, she'd make a wonderful Sororitas or maybe even Inquisitor. Hell, she's destined for greatness, I know that much. So long as she survives to make somthing of that potential . . .

[Elessar]

So many updates... it's spoiling me.

But enough with the exposition! I ask for more killing and will sacrifice goats to curry such favour.

[Academia Nut]

I believe someone asked for violence?

Part 10: Preparations

They arrived around noon, catamarans and outriggers and canoes carrying well over a hundred brightly plumed warriors wielding spears, clubs, bows and arrows, and the occasional shark-tooth sword. Numerous skulls adorned the more lavishly decorated craft, showing off the skill and power of the warriors and their chief.

The chief himself sat upon a seat mounted high up on an enormous catamaran rowed by thirty men. Over two metres of muscle and gristle, he struck an imposing figure despite the pot belly starting to form with age and the perks of being in charge. Covered in complex black tattoos and with numerous bone and shell piercings, a long dark wood spear topped with a black as night obsidian blade, a large wicker shield, and a wicked looking shark-tooth sword he was the epitome of pre-agricultural warrior elite. With two equally well kitted soldiers wearing snarling beast masks made of wood and bone flanking him and an exotic, dark skinned woman bearing numerous mystical paraphernalia, he was the epitome of pre-agricultural warlords.

Landing at the mouth of the river that led to the village, the group was surprised to find most of the adults working on building their own large boats.

Moana was the first to approach, shouting out, “Greetings Chief Solomone! What brings you out this way?”

“I seek Big Man Bane,” Solomone says, his warriors flanking him.

“Oh… I’m sorry to say that Bane passed away a few weeks ago. There was a raid by Meka and his thugs…” Moana explains, presenting a half truth.

“I see,” Solomone hisses. “Who is Big Man of your tribe now then?”

“I suppose you could say I am,” Moana says, snickering at some in-joke along with everyone else from his tribe in attendance.

“I see…” Solomone says, wondering how this giggling, incompetent fool became leader. He supposed it had to do with how pathetic this tribe was.

Shrugging, the warlord says, “Well, I come to you with grave news, grave news indeed. War is approaching, like a storm upon the horizon, and we must make ready.”

“Oh?” Moana asks.

“Yes. The Southern Tribes grow restless, and have begun raiding into Western Tribe territory. Your small village stands no chance against them should they move against you. So we offer… protection,” Solomone offers, drawing out the last word so that hopefully even this dunce will understand his meaning.

“Protection? Yes, protection from the rampaging hordes of the Southern Tribes, keeping our daughters and wives safe from the untamed lusts of the Southerners, our sons safe from bondage or sacrifice to their bloodthirsty gods. Yes… protection. Of course, we would not expect you to extend your protection free of cost,” Moana says, narrowing his eyes at Solomone. The Chief did not like this one.

“Of course not, although you will find our terms most generous. All we need is for you to help out by sending over a few of your men and sons to serve as warriors to protect us all, and perhaps help arrange a few marriages between your daughters, since we have lost so many women to the Southern Tribes first strikes. The price would not be very high, considering your whole village has fewer members than a single one of my war parties,” Solomone says graciously.

Stroking his chin thoughtfully, Moana says, “You do make a good deal. Suffer death and destruction at the hands of monstrous, barely human raiders, having our children carried off to face who knows what horrors, or give up a few of our children willingly to you.”

Solomone narrowed his eyes angrily. He definitely did not like this one.

“Still, your protection may be unnecessary. After all, we have our ancestors to look over us and one of their chosen lives with us,” Moana points out. “You would not need to extend your resources to offer us protection.”

“Ah yes, the ‘ancestors’,” Solomone says contemptuously. “I remember the whelp of a boy and his shiny toy. Well, we have our own ancestors now.”

Solomone then pulls out a large, wicked looking steel dagger, waving it threateningly beneath Moana’s nose. “A few weeks ago the ancestors chose to visit us, and grant us with blessings far beyond what yours care to dribble out to you.”

“Perhaps,” Moana says, before saying, “Maybe a test is in order, a challenge to see whose ancestors are stronger. One champion against one champion, to see whether or not we need your protection.”

“My warriors are proud, they would not tolerate anything less than a fight to the death,” Solomone growls.

“A pity to lose anyone, but if blood must be spilled to satisfy the spirits, then so be it. Chose your champion and I shall chose mine,” Moana says.

“Jope, show them why they need our help,” Solomone says with a jerk of his thumb to a clearing on the beach with good footing.

Moving off to confer with his people, Moana was interrupted by the arrival of Peni, who had something large wrapped in cloth slung over her shoulder.

“I was practicing in the woods when I heard the commotion,” she says.

Looking the young girl up and down, Moana opens his mouth to say something, thinks better of it, and then says, “You’re going to make your husband’s life hell one day.”

“My dad says that all the time,” Peni replies, smiling broadly.

Turning back to Chief Solomone, Moana says, “Since it is our children’s future after all, we have decided that perhaps they should fight for it.”

This met with stunned silence for a moment before the entire war party exploded into derisive laughter, and Chief Solomone explodes in livid outrage, crying out “What is the meaning of this?”

Shrugging, Moana says, “She wants to fight. I’m not going to stand in her way.”

Standing in front of the Eastern warrior with her huge shrouded object held tightly in two hands, Peni looks up at him defiantly and says, “You’re going to die.”

“Jope, stick the bitch and let’s get this farce over with,” Solomone says, spitting on the ground in disgust.

The battle was over in an instant. Peni was tiny, young, and female, but she had three major advantages. The first was that she was serious about this unlike her opponent and had no compunctions against killing; she had had steel in her heart since before she knew what steel was. The second was that what little training she had received in the past few weeks was from a Space Marine, and since she had shown her desire to fight, he had drilled her ruthlessly. The third was that she only needed to touch her opponent.

Crying out, “Ave Imperator!” Peni swung at the warrior’s midsection. He used his sword to casually parry the blow, only to discover to his horror just what was under the shroud.

Once Kaleb had finished purifying the Chaos weapons, Peni had demanded the chainsword of the Traitor Marine that had grabbed her as recompense for pain and suffering. Not even a Terminator could stand before her stubborn faith in herself, so he handed the ancient, deadly weapon over to and accepted to train her in addition to all the other activities he was undertaking.

The well maintained weapon started to grind as soon as Peni pressed the trigger during her swing, and by the time the wood and tooth sword met it, the adamantine teeth were already at full rev. The sword disintegrated like it wasn’t there and the sword kept going, slicing through flesh and bone, spewing blood and entrails everywhere as the weapon practically pulled itself through Jope’s abdomen and spine. Peni was almost hauled off her feet, but she had been practicing on keeping her balance during a cut by chopping down trees for the adults, so she managed to hold on until the sword cleared the other side.

The entire raiding party watched in stunned, open mouthed shock as the little girl plunged the whirring blade into the bisected Jope’s neck, grinding it off in a further shower of blood and bone chips. Holding the severed head up by the hair, the crimson coated girl said in crude Gothic, “Death to the enemies of the Emperor.”

Taking that as his cue, Moana nods and says, “Kill them all.”

Concealed by a combination of clever camouflage and the refractive abilities of their STC designed armour, made by the limited manufacturing capacities of Station Alpha One, nine concealed warriors opened up with hellguns. They still had yet to fully figure out aiming, but the weapons were simple and with back-pack power systems, they could compensate for poor marksmanship with full auto fire.

In two seconds forty warriors were blown apart, mostly those with bows or javelins, as they were the most dangerous to the near naked workers. Moana stalled the frontline warriors by having his workers hurl their tools, hammers and axes mostly, a few causing wounds but most just annoying the warriors, making them pull their shields up.

Then the tenth member of the squad rushed forward, a shimmering phantom made of a man shaped ripple in the air, two bright green dots for eyes and a small blue flame at waist height.

The white hot gout of burning promethium incinerated twenty of Solomone’s finest, leaving behind ash, a few scattered bones, and a stretch of beach sand fused to glass. The chief only survived because he had been moving for the boats after the first volley from the hellguns, and as it was he was close enough for all his glorious plumage to ignite. Throwing his flaming body into the surf, when he came up he barely had time to react before Peni took one of his arms.

Peni stopped from the killing blow, letting Moana casually walk over to where the once proud chief lay wailing, trying to hold the spurting wound shut with his good arm.

“You come here with a war party to intimidate my people, to steal our sons and rape our daughters one way or another, and you thought you could get away with it? Well guess what? We were told that men like you would come, that they would offer such deals, and we already swore to fight you and all of those like you. And look what strength we have been given. Your proud warriors lie as carrion or have been scoured from this world, your fleet sinks and burns, your witch lost her head before she could summon forth any foul sorceries, and you weep before the might of our little girls. Pathetic, just as we were told,” Moana says, all the trappings of buffoonery gone.

“Take your second head Peni,” Moana says, turning away.

Solomone’s screams are cut short by whirring adamantine teeth severing his trachea.

[Dominus]

Magnificent, we finally get to see the STC technology in action! Such is the brutal fate that awaits those who cavort with the Ruinous Powers.

Anyway, I partially agree with Vehrec; I think Peni would make excellent Sororitas material, provided that Kaleb can get any of them off this rock alive.

Anyway, I certainly didn't expect that he would have managed to get their 'army' up to speed so quickly... but then again, he is a Space Marine. And they have an STC on their side. Let the purgation begin! I eagerly await the brutal demise of more filthy Chaos scum.

[Elessar]

Many goats have been sacrificed... unfortunately, Peni demanded the rituals be for her.

I'm not one to argue.

In all seriousness, I didn't see really see Peni being Sororitas material until now. In fact, I had been expecting the village's champion to be Kaleb, stepping out of the bush towering over his enemies. But that was much cooler... Kaleb's been hard at work and it shows. Now for him to claim more of the STCs hidden throughout this world.

[Academia Nut]

Part 11: Waves of Change

Kaleb was in the depths of Station Alpha One when word of the approaching boats reached him. Setting down the final stage assembly of the hellgun he had been working on, he scooped up his storm bolter, the only bit of his gear he had on hand at all times, and immediately rushed back. By the time he made it out of the cave, the battle was already over.

“We got lucky. They came to bully rather than to actually fight. Had they been serious in attacking us they would have come at night and from multiple angles,” Moana says while the villagers finish clean-up.

“You stalled for time, letting the squad get into position,” Kaleb notes with some pride.

“Yes… any luck on getting more weapons of the ancestors ready?” Moana asks.

Sighing, Kaleb says, “I will have another hellgun ready by the end of the day to go with the phantom suit I completed the other day.”

The STC technology was incredible, some of it better than even Imperial counterparts, the problem though was that Station Alpha One was not a true manufacturing facility, and its capacities were limited to doing things like building spare parts for the station. So instead of going straight from raw materials to finished product, the station churned out parts that required assembly. Some of the stuff was simple enough that the villagers could do it after some instruction, but Kaleb was often the only person who knew enough about the technology to do some of the more difficult or delicate steps. So far with three weeks of work they had eleven suits of armour, nine hellguns, and one heavy flamer.

And there was so much to do! The villagers needed to train on the new equipment, build the boats that would take them to the enemy, and do all the day to day tasks that would keep them all alive. There were, counting every last head from the newborns to the crones, eighty villagers in all. As the original designers of this world had intended, the island was not in an ideal place to support a large population, which made things a bit problematic for Kaleb’s purposes.

“So what is our next step?” Moana asks eagerly.

“We need more people to rally to our cause,” Kaleb says sombrely while intact heads are claimed as trophies.

“Solomone claimed that the Southern Tribes are already moving. I wouldn’t doubt that, the Southerners are the second largest group in this region, after the Westerners, and they have a long history of bad blood, but you would have to ask Kansbar about the specifics,” Moana explains.

“Someone probably stole a pig,” Kaleb states sourly, having learned over the years how stupid conflicts could be on feral worlds. True, he sometimes wondered about the civilized worlds, but feral worlds didn’t get that name just because they had little technology.

“In any case, Solomone was correct in that the Southerners are likely to come here on raids… they and the Westerners like to hit the East and North tribes during times of war looking for slaves so they can divert more manpower to the main conflict. They also need more women to help replenish their warrior stocks for the next war a generation down the line,” Moana says, spitting with disgust.

“Then we will need to explain to them why that is a bad idea,” Kaleb says with a grim smile.

“It would be better if we could secure them as allies,” Moana points out.

“Yes. Could we get the Northerners on our side first? Convince the Southerners from a position of visible strength before we have to reveal our hand?” Kaleb asks.

“The Northerners will be hard to convince… mostly because… actually…” Moana says, sizing Kaleb up.

“What?” Kaleb asks suspiciously.

Meanwhile, Kai found Peni cleaning up a ways down the beach. She had already washed off the majority of the gore on her body, and now she was cleaning her chainsword using fresh water and some oils Kaleb had approved for use.

“Missed the excitement again I see,” Peni mocked while scrubbing bits of Solomone out of the teeth of the weapon.

“I was there last time,” Kai points out.

“Yeah, for the end,” Peni replies while rolling her eyes.

“I was working the forges,” Kai protests.

“Uh huh,” Peni replies, picking out a bit of bone chip caught in a link of the internal chain.

“See, I have the smoke to prove it,” Kai says, dragging a finger down his face to show a somewhat less smudged line in the grime that covers him.

“Then start a fire smoke boy. I still have to clean my trophies,” Peni says, pointing to the severed heads on the sand. Kai shudders for a moment before heading off to gather some sticks. Peni scared him sometimes.

When Kai returned with a bundle of sticks, Peni was praying to the machine spirit of the chainsword, thanking it for its work today. For just a moment Kai could feel the psychic resonance from the weapon before he caught himself dipping into his powers unintentionally again. He had been warned repeatedly and with heavy cuffs to the head not to use his powers casually. Ever since the day his parents had died, he had found it easier and easier to slip into the state of mind needed to use his powers, often accessing them without meaning to.

Putting down his load, he quickly and expertly arranged the sticks into a fire, and then using his steel knife and piece of flint, he ignited a neat and tidy little blaze. While he was doing this, Peni was securing the heads on sticks, skewering them through the eye sockets.

Positioning the sticks over the fire, Peni begins to burn off the flesh and melt out the brains, after a few moments of greasy smoke she makes a face and says “Let’s let them sit here for a while,” before rushing out into the waves to finish cleaning off.

Dropping anything that might rot in the water, Kai follows her out to where she is dunking her head in the water, trying to wash out the blood matting up her long black hair. Turning back, she says, “Grab some sand and help me out here would you?”

Sighing, Kai bends down into the surf and grabs a handful of sanding, saying “Yes Peni.”

“And keep an eye on those heads. I don’t want the skulls damaged,” Peni orders.

Looking back to see that the hair smoke has finally abated and now the brains are dribbling out from every point, Kai says “They’re good Peni,” before dumping the wet sand in her hair and helping to scrub.

“Good, they’re for momma,” Peni says before tensing up at her mistake.

Hanging his head, Kai quietly repeats the line Kaleb used the most around Peni, “Emperor give me strength.” This was going to be bad.

“I… I… I…” Peni mutters, her shoulders slumping while Kai continues scrubbing, the blood coating his hands.

“Don’t cry again Peni, you already cried when you were talking to me about my parents,” Kai says in childish exasperation. This of course was the wrong thing to say.

“Momma…” Peni mutters pitifully.

“Oh come on, you said yourself you barely even remember her, and at least you have a step mom…” Any further complaints on Kai’s part were cut off by a right hook to the jaw.

Reeling back, dazed, Kai throws up his arms to block the follow up blows to his face, but Peni quickly compensates, going for body blows instead of head shots. Kai retaliates with a left jab to Peni’s head that snaps her head back and sends her stumbling backwards into the surf.

“When’d you get so strong?” Peni asks, rubbing her eye.

Massaging his own jaw, Kai counters, “When did you?”

“I asked first,” Peni demands.

“I asked second,” Kai replies.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“Make me.”

“I will,” Peni replies, before hurling herself at Kai, tackling him and bringing them both down into the water.

Thrashing about in the water, they eventually both come up for air while still grappling. Snapping her head forward, Peni smashes her forehead into Kai’s nose, flattening it. Kai responds by gut punching Peni and then kicking her off of him, throwing her through the air to land with a splat in the waves.

Picking himself up, Kai manages to get his guard up just in time intercept a wild haymaker from Peni. Grabbing her by the wrist on the follow up attack, he flips her over and then grabs her in an arm lock.

His nose not quite broken by Peni’s head butt but still quite sore, Kai says, “You ready to calm down now?”

Peni just breaks down sobbing at that point, causing Kai to let go of her in confusion. She then proceeds to whirl about and tackle him, sending them both back into the water. When they come back up, Peni is tightly wrapped around Kai, who is flailing his arms ineffectually because instead of trying to pummel him again she is fiercely kissing him.

Tears intermingled with sea salt, eyes puffy equally from crying and being hit, Peni lets go, gasps, and says, “The skulls!” before running off to tend to the fire.

Once he is sure that she’s not watching, Kai begins taking mouthfuls of seawater and then spitting them out, scraping off his tongue with his hands. It would still be another few years before he would fully appreciate a girl wrapping herself about his body and trying to dig his tonsils out with her tongue. The fact that Peni really had no idea what she was doing and just imitating what she had seen adults doing on occasion contributed to the effect somewhat as well.

Walking back to shore where Peni is fishing her skulls out of the fire, Kai slumps down and checks the various lumps on his body before saying, “It’s the sword, isn’t it?”

“Huh?” Peni asks while rolling one of the skulls about on the moist sand to cool it off.

“Swinging that sword around is why you’re stronger than the last time we fought,” Kai says, gazing up at the clouds above.

“Oh… yeah, I guess so,” Peni replies while juggling the skull about in her hands, still a bit too hot to hold on to.

“All that hauling and pumping and hammering Kaleb makes me do must be why I’m stronger than before,” Kai adds.

Lying down next to him, Peni joins him in cloud watching. After a few minutes of just the crackle of the fire and cool ocean breeze, she says, “One day we’re going to get married.”

“Yes Peni,” Kai responds with an automatic nod, having heard this before.

“And have lots of children,” Peni continues.

“Yes Peni.”

“And we’ll have the grandest hut in the entire village, filled with all of the best things,” she continues.

“You know we’re going to start putting up prefabricated hab units soon,” Kai points out.

“Shut up, that doesn’t change anything,” Peni replies.

“Yes Peni.”

“And your visions will warn us of any disaster coming,” she says. This part had appeared a few months ago when it became apparent that Kai was different.

“Yes Peni.”

“And if anyone comes to threaten the family, I’ll cut their fucking heads off and add them to my collection,” Peni snarls.

That was a new one. Looking sideways at Peni, Kai says nervously, “Yes Peni.”

Across the island, Kaleb was alternating looking at the ocean and staring at Moana incredulously, before finally saying, “You’re kidding right.”

“No, I’m not. The islands of the Northern tribes come right out of the depths of the sea, so the mid ocean waves roll right up onto their shores. They consider riding those waves a sign of extreme prowess, courage, and virility. Learn to ride those waves and you will have their respect,” Moana explains, pointing out to the waves crashing down on the north-eastern shore of the island.

“I can pop a man’s skull like an infected boil,” Kaleb points out.

“So can some of the waves they get. Half their language revolves around the concept of waves,” Moana replies.

“Okay, I guess I can accept that part… but you want me to take this piece of wood, swim out, and then when a wave comes along, stand-up on the wood and keep my balance while the wave carries me to shore,” Kaleb asks incredulously.

“That about sums it up, yes,” Moana says with a nod.

“Okay, I can do that no problem… it’s just weird,” Kaleb says with a shrug.

“Perhaps you should give it a try then to make sure you won’t embarrass yourself in front of the Northerners,” Moana says.

Shrugging, Kaleb takes the board offered to him and swims out into the heavy surf. Waiting for a wave to come along, Kaleb gets up easily enough, only to fall down into the wave almost immediately.

Picking up the grounded board, Moana waits for Kaleb to come to shore, and with a smirk asks, “Not so easy, was it?”

“Look at the board,” Kaleb points out, and to Moana’s surprise there are gouges in the wood consistent with a bite.

Throwing the four metre long shark he’d been hauling up onto the beak, the sea creature’s jaws broken by Kaleb overextending them and its gills ripped out from the inside, Kaleb says somewhat smugly, “I would have made it, but at least we have fish for supper tonight.”

Moana just stares in open mouthed shock.

“Think that would impress the Northerners?” Kaleb asks with a wry smile on his face.

[Dominus]

The idea of a Space Marine (and a Terminator at that) trying to 'surf' conjures up such amusing little mental pictures that I honestly don't know where to begin. The scene with the shark at the end had me laughing for a good five minutes. Clearly, aquarian creatures are no match for the prowess of the Emperor's finest! This chapter was certainly aptly named indeed.

Peni is really starting to scare me. I'd definitely say that she's shaping up to be fine Sororitas material, though she might want to temper a bit of that bloodlust lest she stray too far and fall into Khorne's grasp. Poor Kai.

Yes, I definitely think that Kai has "Salamander Librarian" written all over him. He's even started smithing! Even I couldn't possibly misinterpret such foreshadowing.

Keep up the excellent work; this, in In Memoria, and The Rift are the reason why I follow the fanfic section of these boards so religiously.

[Academia Nut]

Mwahahaha! I knew it was out there somewhere, and I found it. This is where I got the idea from. Man have I been waiting to do something like this for a long time.

[Vehrec]

Peni and Kai might not get hitched but on the other hand that would be frankly awesome.
"The Librarian refuses to meet with the Sororitas." "Why?" "His wife is leading them."
I don't think that would work, given that both orders are all about just serving the Emperor, but yeah. It's a great joke.