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Yes, hopefuly he will become a silent and mercyless servant of the god Emperor soon! Mercy and pity is for mere civilan rabble!

Thanks guys, i'm glad you're enjoying it!

13

We padded into the wild as quickly as we dared. The snows started to build back up almost as soon as we hit no man’s land but the powder wasn’t slowing us down anywhere near as much as the insufferable daylight. Most ops are over in a matter of hours and we almost always choose to strike during the night so fighting or sneaking around in broad daylight isn’t exactly our SOP. You’d have to search fifty warzones to find a Storm Trooper with a tan and a hundred more to find one who enjoyed the fact.

Still, it was good to get back to field-craft. All that hiding in plain sight made me nervous and having to fight honest guardsmen wasn’t making it any easier. Our quarry now was a stone cold traitor on the run; bringing him to justice was going to be a satisfying experience.

After twenty minutes or so of bounding between the husks of hab blocs the deserted suburbs looked to be giving way to countryside once more. Getting back into the cover of a woodland canopy was a reliving prospect and we began to pick up the pace. But before we could make a dash for the tree line Kaleb signed ‘halt and down’ in the shadow of a crumbling chapel. At first I was confused as to the purpose of our hold up but I knew better than to mouth off. Even Sekunda kept his mouth shut as we tried to figure out what was wrong.
Then we heard it too; a whine on the wind, rising in intensity. The unmistakable screech of a heavy speeder’s engine.

“Into the chapel, secure fire-points and stay out of sight” ordered Kaleb. We didn’t need telling twice and bolted into the derelict shrine as quickly as we could. As it turned out there wasn’t much point in keeping our heads down. From the way the speeders circled our building and set up their holding pattern it was pretty obvious they already knew where we were. It was about now that I truly started to lament the abandonment of our jamming gear.

“This isn’t good” I breathed.

“No gak, Gideon” replied Sekunda as he flicked his fire selector to ‘auto’.

“Stay sharp and gather intel” whispered Kaleb over the vox. “We only have seconds before they make their move so lets figure out who they are so we can predict what it’ll be.”
I was posted up by the shrine’s altar, under the wings of the hand carved, wooden Aquilla’s wings and near enough to a shattered window to catch a glimpse of our assailants.

“Two Black shuttles. Transports for near ten to fifteen men each. No markings, no weapon mounts.” I quietly relayed what little I could tell every time one of the speeders flew past by my view point. It wasn’t much but it seemed enough for Kaleb.

“Sounds like Naval Security. These must be Black’s attack dogs come to bring us in nice and quietly. I don’t think we’ll let them.”

“Near twenty of them out there, sir and this isn’t exactly a bastion” pointed out Kuhrt.

“They’re dismounting” added Sekunda.

I wanted to believe that the gunmen outside were used to brutalising unarmed malcontents and entirely unprepared for a real fight. But in my time aboard the Lord Dubois Staff Sergeant Tarleton had made sure us FNG’s were aware that the security forces dressed in black were to be respected. The average Naval Security trooper might well spend the majority of his career breaking up inter regimental fights, a task which is in no way easy itself, but his duties also involved patrolling the ship during warp transit and hunting down anything unsavoury that might turn up in the depths of the ship’s bowels. That’s work for an iron will and sharp reflexes, no mistake about it.

“They’d have bombed the site if they didn’t want us alive. That means they’ll have to come inside so watch your sectors and make them pay for every yard.”

“Yes sir!” We chorused. Naval Security wasn’t exactly the institution that had gotten us into this mess but they were close enough for us to begin to relish the prospect of handing out some pain. On the other hand taking us alive meant that they would have to incapacitate us in some manner and every second that went by as we waited for the assault to begin had me running through the variety of biological weapons they might try to use on us. Normally we’d be well equipped to withstand gas or blinding attacks but our only options now were to grin and bear it or attempt a break out. Now we had gone through chemical endurance training back on Terrax and the idea of remaining combat effective during a gas attack seemed like a myth the instructors were making up. Even if you don’t gak up and make sure to control your breathing your eyes are streaming so much that you can’t see straight and the instant any physicality is required your breathing gets deeper and the chemical agent does a number on your lungs.

It was as I ran through the possible list of incapacitating gases that we heard from our attackers. Not with the snap of shots fired in anger or the dreaded thunk of gas grenades being launched but from a familiar voice on a vox amplifier.

“Storm Troopers of the 1313th, I request parley.”

“What’s a parley?” Asked Sekunda “Is that Navy talk for surrender?”

“Shut up, Sek. I know that voice” I hissed as I turned to regard the lieutenant.

“Its Black” he snarled, shaking his head. “That gak stain’s got some brass ones coming down here in person.”

“Now’s our chance then” snarled Kuhrt. “Just let him pop his head out of cover and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“But what if he wants to reinstate us?” Asked Sekunda.

“That fugger is the reason half our team’s dead. You want to go out there and make friends with him?” Kuhrt replied.

“No one’s going out there” Kaleb cut in. “But we’ll hear what he has to say for himself. In here... if he has the mettle for it.” The lieutenant took a breath as he surveyed our position then slung his rifle and cupped his hands over his mouth. “If you want to talk you can come inside, but don’t be bringing any of your friends with you or things are going to get messy.”

I didn’t much regard our position as one to drive a bargain with but the lieutenant had an uncanny habit of being right all the time. “He won’t go for it” I muttered. “No intelligence officer gets out from behind a desk to talk nice with men he ordered killed. Not when they’re still armed, no way.”

Wind whistled through the cracks of the dilapidated shrine as we waited. The only sound I made was the absent minded click of my fire selector going from ‘semi’ to ‘auto’; one of my least professional habits. Eventually, to our amazement, we spotted a lone figure approaching the building.

“I would request that you hold your fire until I’ve had a chance to speak” Mr Black’s voice sailed through the entrance before he dared to expose himself. “I’m coming in alone and unarmed as requested.”

“You’re safe to speak your piece but I’m not promising anything after you’re done” called Kaleb.

“I can’t ask for anything more than that, Lieutenant” smiled Mr Black as he walked into the chapel with his hands in the air.

“Well don’t expect a salute, Black. Out with it” I snarled, surprising even myself.

“Of course, trooper Tuplin. I expect you’re very much looking forward to pulling that trigger. But I’m here to give you a chance to kill the true enemy. That is unless you’ve developed a taste for murdering Imperials...”

“How’d you find us” Kaleb cut in before I could respond.

“Ditching your tracking gear didn’t make it easy but when an MIA report came in from the most exposed part of the northern lines and there wasn’t a peep of enemy action it was just a matter of locating your heat signatures.”

“And you didn’t lance us because...?” Sekunda asked.

“You’re going after Dacker correct?” Black paused to consider our expressions. “I thought as much. I want him. Alive. And you’re the best assets on the planet to get the job done. Bringing in any of the other 1313th teams would give Dacker too much time to disappear and besides that you’re supposed to be the best.”

“Flattery? Really?” Kuhrt Mocked.

“I’m being frank my dear. You bring Dacker in and you’ll be re-commissioned as Imperial soldiers. Not reinstated mind, we’ll have to find substitutes to die in your place. The Imperium doesn’t make mistakes after all.”

Nothing quite felt right at that moment. We all wanted to blame this navy REP for what had happened to us; that’s Rear Echelon Prick for you civvies and REP’s. But he was also offering us a solid way out and he was doing it whilst our guns were pointed squarely between his eyes.

“I’d say take your time to think it over but we both know that time is a luxury hunting Dacker will not allow.”

After a moment Kaleb shifted his weight and replied. “What can we expect in support.”

“The works, lieutenant. You’ll be given an official Storm Trooper assignment from General Tay himself, under a different company’s colours of course. That means your pick of the equipment we brought and limited support from friendly forces.”

“Limited?” I interjected.

“A flight of Marauders has been preliminarily assigned to your mission but I can’t promise they won’t be re-tasked at a moment’s notice if enemy activity picks up.”

“Yeah, we’ll be going it alone” Sekunda spat.
Kaleb quietly nodded to himself for a moment before he cut in. “Not good enough, Black. I’ve yet to hear a single thing that makes me want to trust you.”

“How about a gift?” The navy spook muttered a string of code words into his suit’s cuff and before we could begin to wonder what he was planning we heard the hiss of a speeder’s cargo hatches deploying. “An unarmed man is bringing over my peace offering Lieutenant, I beseech you not to open fire just yet.”

“Eyes on, troopers” was Kaleb’s only reply.

I half expected some kind of surprise attack and I could tell the rest of the team was just as on edge. After a tense few seconds the hairs on the back of my neck started to prick up as I noticed there were two pairs of footsteps padding towards us.

“Sir, there’s more than one of...” I started.

“Relax trooper” Kaleb cut me off. When I jerked my head nervously to check his order I noticed the old man was smiling.

“What the...” I started to mumble before I turned my head back to the chapel entrance and saw who was standing in the doorway.

“Ave Milites” grinned Wallinga, no doubt attempting to prove some sort of academic superiority over his gaoler by using High Gothic. “You wear these worried faces for me? Not LT, he knew I’d come back to save you no doubt.”

The collection of curses that passed between our team made for an expression of collective relief and, I have to admit, mild disappointment that he had managed to get himself caught. Wallinga was cuffed and a little bruised but largely no worse for wear. He, at least still retained his Storm Trooper’s unmarked fatigues but the bloodstains on his jacket hinted at the difficulty Naval Security must have had in grabbing him alive.

“You see gentlemen and miss; if I wasn’t serious about making amends for this mess I would have killed the lot of you. You must understand that the decisions we made were the only ones open to us at the time. We had to mitigate the damage that was done by the traitor’s broadcast immediately or we would have lost the planet. Now there’s a chance to catch the double agent who started this and bring you troopers home.”

There was an edge of humble contrition to Mr Black’s plea that made it difficult not to believe him. Of course the Naval Security operative was almost certainly trained in rhetoric and manipulating information so that was hardly surprising but the truth was that I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that we could go home.

“Un-cuff Wallinga and we’ll start talking seriously” said Kaleb.

“You sure about this LT?” Kuhrt kept her rifle trained steady on Mr Black.

“Black’s the only one that’s smart enough to want Dacker. If we kill Black there’ll be no one left to bargain with.”

“That’s very astute Lieutenant.” Mr Black nodded as he lowered his hands.

“Go fug yourself, Black” Kaleb cursed and the navy man visibly reeled. “We’ll take the job but don’t think that makes us grateful. You get us back into the regiment and then you get us posted somewhere far enough from your sorry outfit that no one has to worry about another murder case.”

“Splendid” Black bowed. “But for now let’s get professional. I have weapons and gear aboard the speeder so get kitted up. As for intel I’m afraid I don’t have much to go on. Frankly I’m rather interested to hear why you chose to head north from Narbo Primus.”

“The less you know, Black the better I think our chances will be” Kaleb replied. “Just give me a frequency to call in the cavalry when we have the mark and you’ll get what you want.”

“So much for professionalism then. Fine, there’s comms with the rest of the gear so hop to it troopers.”

And with that Mr Black turned his back on us and sauntered out into the snow. We hesitated for a moment, the soldier’s natural instincts to stick to cover overriding our new mission’s prerogatives.

“Its ok, friends” Wallinga chirped as he rubbed his wrists. “They’re not so bad out there. Talk a lot of gak though.”

“You’ve been fraternising whilst we’ve been getting shot at?” Sekunda asked as he climbed out of a makeshift turret.

“I’m good at making friends” Wallinga replied.

“Come on then you juves. Nice and easy but keep your safeties off, eh?” Smirked Kaleb as he led the way out.

We emerged into the cold sunlight to face a platoon of Naval Security troopers in black carapace ringed around the chapel entrance. Their guns weren’t up but it didn’t look like it would take much to get them there. As we paced closer I couldn’t help visualising the barrels of the shot-cannons swinging up and wiping us out but the order never came. Assistance never came either. The surly troopers just stood there, their helms clicking with vox traffic as they watched us unload the crates of equipment Mr Black had procured.

Un-marked and properly camouflaged fatigues, Hotshot rifles, carbines and even a long las. Auspex, vox casters, grenades, optics and det packs. The works. The atmosphere didn’t much lend itself to conversation so we geared up in silence until I heard one of the Nav Sec grunts take his helmet off and call over to us.

“Make sure you get your fill of our gear, glory boys! From the looks of things you’re going to need all the help you can get!” We couldn’t hear his comrades laughing but the chorus of vox clicks told us thereabouts the same thing.

Not one of us replied to the glorified security guard but Kaleb quietly nodded to me. I smiled, relishing the fact that I got to deliver our message whilst the others had to watch. I didn’t say anything on the way over; I just padded towards the un-helmed Navy boy and watched him joke with his comrades as I approached. He was nervous, looking to them for reassurance that he wasn’t standing alone. Right then I didn’t care how many black armoured sociopaths were watching.

“Got something to say big man?” He joked with his arms spread wide and his blue eyes darting to my weapons. “What are you gonna do take us all...”

I landed a punch right on the tip of his nose. I find this to be the most theatrical of facial strikes as the compression of tissue and cartilage creates a considerable amount of blood. The poor fool never saw it coming because he was used to picking on unschooled Imperial Guardsmen and cowering Navy serfs. Oh I’m sure the trooper was handy on a warp patrol but crowd control duty is just idle bullying for those fuggers.

His friends didn’t take well to me flooring their spokesman and I had gun barrels pointed at me before the boy started staining the snow red. But Naval Intelligence doesn’t go through a planetary landing, hauling gear and munitions to the surface to reconcile a rogue asset just to have them shot over a fist fight and we knew it. I didn’t even put my hands up. I just lent down to the groaning trooper and reached into his tactical vest.

“That’s great advice there, chief. We really are going to need the works to get this done so I’m taking this fancy revolver of yours. Awful nice of you to offer it and the whole team really appreciates Naval Security’s assistance.”

There was a great deal of clicking coming from the helms of the Nav Sec grunts with their guns on me as I walked back to my team but nothing came of it. In fact its fair to say that Mr Black probably saved my life out there.

Oh damn! This was a great read, I do say however Mr Black dont strike me as particulary friendly

Cheers Trondeim! We're moving into the endgame.





14

Kuhrt was smiling when I got back. “Nice punch. You know you were only supposed to call him a jerk right?”

“I’m sure he got the message” grunted Kaleb. “But we’re wasting time here. Wallinga get out there and find me a trail.”

“Sir” Wallinga nodded and jogged away towards the northern forest. He was out of visual remarkably quickly but I suppose I should have been used to that by then. It took us a couple more minutes to set our gear before we could head out after him. Kuhrt had extra checks to make on her long las whilst Sek and I still weren’t as quick off the block as the veterans. The Lieutenant had stepped off to pour over dataslates and hololilths with Black. You could tell he didn’t enjoy having to talk to that snake but a Storm Trooper never passes up intelligence.
There was a lot of gear to choose from. A lot. The myth about Naval Security’s secret stash of confiscated weaponry never seemed more plausible than when we started cracking open those munitorum crates and unloading all that firepower. First thing I went for was the rack of Locke pattern boltguns. While they weren’t exactly going to cut an Astartes in half there were few ‘rifle class’ weapons in the Imperium that had such a high damage output potential. Bolt rounds are expensive and of all the weaponry we trained with on Terrax we got the smallest amount of time on the range with the bolt variants. That just made the glorious mess we were able to make of our targets even sweeter and, soldier or civvie, anyone who picks one up knows its a very difficult thing to put down. But Kuhrt wasn’t having any of it.

“Hey Sly,” she barked. “We’re not going out there to take the damned army on single handed. Ditch the bullet magnet and pick your weapons like a real Storm Trooper.”
She was right, of course. Bolts are rocket propelled and the propellant leaves a trail as it burns. They’re also notoriously difficult to silence due to the noise of the round in flight as well as its explosion on impact. This is less of a problem if your aim is on and the round detonates inside your target’s chest but if the proverbial sun is in your eyes and a round flies clear its a damn clear signal to whoever’s listening that there’s a party in progress. Staying out of sight and keeping quiet rules out most Imperial Weaponry bar solid slug throwers. That was all well and good but in that moment , as I shuffled in the snow and toyed with the fire selector, I just didn’t want to give the beauty up.

“If we’re keeping our heads down what do you think that Long Las is going to do when you start lighting up the show?” I attempted.

“This is a precaution,” she jerked her thumb at the rifle slung on her back. “This is for work” she held up a suppressed SMG. “You have to earn the right to take precautions.”
I grunted in disapproval, wondering exactly what it would take to actually prove myself in this outfit or if it was even possible. You could tell Sek was disappointed too since he was halfway over to the crate of bolters when Kuhrt gave me what for. But a battlefield isn’t the place for juve tantrums over toys. So we passed over the bolters and the hotshots and loaded up on the, admittedly high quality, auto guns we had been used to carrying on Narbo.

Kaleb was soon walking over with a data slate in hand. The slate gave us detailed maps of troop movements and force dispositions but the real slice of Terra was the image of Dacker that had been attached to his file.

“I know this man” I found myself mumbling with eyes aghast. “From the Scholam...” Herud Gathis had been a friend and classmate of mine and the sole reason I had volunteered for inquisitorial service. Since I never heard from Gathis after the trials I had always assumed that he had been accepted into the Ordos. Now his dagger thin eyes were staring back at me from a file marked ‘traitor’.

“Small Galaxy eh?” Laughed Wallinga but I didn’t join him. Knowing my own file undoubtedly retained the same stamp on it turned my stomach. It wasn’t a sense of personal betrayal or unease at having to hunt down a former friend, it had been years since we had last spoke and since Progenia classmates almost never get posted to the same location you don’t exactly forge the strongest bonds at the academy. But seeing a former colleague turn traitor, knowing I had been branded with the same mark and for following orders at that! It was a grim revelation that the Imperium did not stand on the rock solid foundations of Truth, righteousness and honour. Our beloved empire was held together with haphazard bureaucracy, ceaseless toil and rivers of blood whilst even our own were ready to turn on us. I knew to survive in darkness we had to become one with the night but it took me until Narbo to realise how tenuous humanity’s grip on the galaxy was.

After taking a moment to collect myself and double check the gear we padded off along Wallinga’s path without a word to the Nav Sec brigade that had been standing watch over us. Emperor knows they didn’t deserve the courtesy and we didn’t have the time. If we could catch Dacker alone in no man’s land our chances wouldn’t look half bad. But if the bastard made it to enemy lines he’d either be dug in tighter than an Armageddon tick or squirreled away by the thrice-damned legion cell network.

Despite the fact that our prospects looked considerably brighter with Naval Intelligence supposedly backing us we didn’t speak. This was contested territory and we were back on a combat operation. A commissar once told me that noise discipline makes some soldiers nervous with a sense of disconnect and solitude. He said that fresh soldiers often need to talk tough in order to be tough and he seemed a smart enough officer to know what he was talking about. But out in the snow-covered wild the silence was as sweet to me as a well placed shot on the range. It was the claustrophobia of crowds and the noise that went with it that got my nerves firing. The regimented life of a Schola Progenia educated soldier doesn’t prepare you for the sorts of organised chaos that civilians seem happy to endure. To a Storm Trooper, the sort of soldier who’s used to carefully planned and strenuously practiced missions, even the chaos of the battlefield has a certain framework of rough rules that can be observed.

You take away that familiar framework and your world starts to get uncomfortable fast. I couldn’t speak for Kuhrt and Kaleb since for all I knew they might have been disavowed hundreds of times. But Sek and I hadn’t been enjoying the rogue agent lifestyle. Now we were so close to Imperial sanction we could taste it and I admit the pressure got me a little jittery.

It was a few minutes before Wallinga returned to us and from the gloom of the white-dusted canopy it almost made it seem as though he appeared out of thin air.

“Got a trail but its cold. No trouble if we move it but he’s got ground on us.” You could tell Wallinga had been running but only from his flushed cheeks.

“Understood. Set the pace Wallinga; 200 metre clearance. We’ve got you on auspex so don’t worry about losing us. Move fast but stay out of sight and vox if there’s trouble.” The LT barely finished speaking before Wallinga darted back north. Kaleb clearly wanted to close the distance but the only way to make sure we didn’t all run head first into an ambush was to get a scout out and ahead of us. It wasn’t exactly glamorous work for Wallinga but the man had good eyes and a talent for staying alive. As much as it troubles the cog boys to admit it we aren’t the only ones that know how to fool an auspex but chances were Wallinga could spot trouble before it spotted him.

Progenia training taught us not to think about our prospects whilst on mission. This was probably for the best as a sober appraisal of our actual objective leaves me wondering what the throne we thought we were doing out there. At the time I believed luck, or the Emperor, was with us for once since we didn’t sprint right into an enemy offensive. I found out later that a major Imperial breakthrough had occurred on the western front although I still don’t feel up to thanking Naval Intelligence for that kind of foresight.
It was a thankfully quiet few minutes until Wallinga called us up to his position on the edge of the enemy lines.

“Trails picked up but we weren’t fast enough, LT.” Whispered Wallinga.

“I noticed. Auspex is clear?” Kaleb replied.

“Crystal. But I don’t like tramping through enemy ground like a carnodon, eh boss?”

“On me” ordered the Lieutenant. “Combat patrol, staggered formation, 25 metre spread until we hit the first outpost then form up on Wallinga. Our target can’t be too far ahead of us now and after he clears the first of his defences he’ll probably slow down.”

This was the closest thing to normality any of us had experienced in over 24 hours. A simple combat patrol through enemy territory had somehow become a welcome comfort and though we were exhausted, paranoid, bruised and technically still heretics; we were finally soldiers again.

We caught wind of the enemy before long. Auspex gave us a pretty clear heads up which was damned fortunate since the trees had been getting thicker the further north we got and that tanked physical visibility. But as happy as we were to have avoided strolling into a killbox the fact that we hit the enemy before we reached Dacker was brutal news. The traitor had returned to his masters and that meant prowling into the lion’s den after him. After all, turning back empty handed was a death sentence.

Kaleb didn’t need to tell us this simple truth. None of us needed convincing. All we wanted to know was our approach and our rules of engagement. Fortunately this was something the LT was happy to provide for us. The auspex gave us around 300 metres warning of a hostile position and the clustered nature of the enemy life signs suggested they had occupied a building. This was, in theory, a rare breed of good news. A building suggested the slim possibility that Dacker might be sheltering inside but it also takes 15 men and disperses them with lines of sight that don’t entirely overlap. If they had been strung out in an entrenched line, like the Valhallans back in Imperial territory, we would have to have figured out a much more complicated head on approach or wasted time finding a way around. Of course all of this depended on the physical layout of the building but I have a habit of savouring the optimistic possibilities in dire situations. I’ve been told its what keeps me alive.

We sneaked the next few hundred metres until we could get our eyes on the enemy position. Normally we would want to avoid notice and bypass the hostiles in order to keep their alert status low. But with the possibility that Dacker was still here and the certainty that he had passed through we had to clear the building and take steps to find out where the bastard had run to.

“Looks like militia, can’t see much PDF equipment on them.” Sekunda remarked as he studied the idle guards posted at the main entrance. The building looked to be some form of hunting lodge or holiday cabin. Just a simple two-storey, wood built structure with a road leading towards the nearby lake. It hadn’t been marked on our map but the lodge was hardly worthy of an Imperial ordinance survey update. This close the auspex had given us decent coverage of the enemy positions inside the building and the haphazard scattering of personnel told us that either these rebels weren’t expecting company or they were too stupid to realise that’s what they were supposed to be doing.

This was as close to good news as the LT thought we were going to get and he didn’t waste any time forming us up for an assault. It was a simple strategy; suppressed weapons down the perimeter guards before we sweep and clear the building from the inside. The lack of discipline our new targets were displaying meant that the countdown to discovery after the first hostile got dropped would be considerably longer. No radio checks or roving patrols as far as we could tell; just tired men and women who had likely been promised something along the lines of an end to tyranny.

Kaleb and Kuhrt took the guards on the door. Two clean headshots from 100 metres. Nothing any Progenia graduate couldn’t manage but satisfying nonetheless. Before their bodies hit the ground we were up and bounding towards the entrance with Wallinga out front. He was at the door with his camera in place by the time we had stacked up behind him. Kaleb, myself, Kuhrt and Sekunda guarding the rear.

“Four hostiles. None of the match Dacker’s pict. Two clustered at your 11, 5 metres. One on your 9 at 7 metres and the first is at 1 o’clock. 4 metres.”

“Breach.”

Kaleb hammered the door open and I was moving without realising it. I stepped in to the building as Kaleb fired two shots into the chest of a ragged looking boy holding a bolt action rifle. My sweep took the sights of my carbine to the two heretics sharing a smoke in the centre of the lodge’s reception room. I fired two bursts that punched through the targets like sacks of meat. With solid slug bullets tearing through their necks they took a little longer to die but without their vocal chords they weren’t in any position to raise the alarm. The last man had just enough time to unsling his shotgun before Kuhrt put a single shot between his eyes. We froze for a second after the last body had dropped, waiting to see if anyone was going to come running. But Wallinga gave us the all clear after consulting his auspex.

“Nine left, sir. Three up, six down. All holding” whispered Wallinga.

Tuplin, secure this room and watch the stairs Kaleb signed. Everyone else on me. Clean sweep. No survivors this floor.

I took up a post behind a heavy wooden desk and trained my rifle on the stairway. After a moment I started to hear soft, muffled thuds coming from the rear of the lodge and waited with baited breath for any signs of movement upstairs. But the walls of the lodge seemed thick enough to absorb the noise and it wasn’t long before the team padded back into the reception hall.

No joy signed Kaleb as he directed me back into the column. We moved for the stairs next with Wallinga on point. He had his carbine in one hand whilst the other kept his auspex raised to eye level. He knelt down at the first door we reached with a grin on his face. He showed us the auspex screen and saw the reason why. All three of the remaining hostiles were gathered in the same room and that made for a far easier play.

Take them alive. Debilitating wounds only if they resist. Was all Kaleb ordered before he kicked the door in and advanced on the wretches.

“Down on your knees! Down on your knees!” He screamed whilst manhandling the first of the traitors that crossed his path. The three men were hunched over a table when we breached but jumped at the sight of us and surrendered almost immediately. The cowards were gibbering as we cuffed their hands and lined them up against the back wall. Dacker wasn’t here but if Wallinga said that he had passed through this area then one of these heretics was going to tell us which way he had gone. Eventually.

“Don’t look like much, eh?” Snorted Sekunda. “Which one do you think breaks first?”

“They’ll all break” barked Kaleb. “Tuplin, search them.”

“Sir.”

I slung my carbine and patted the first wretch down whilst trying to ignore the smell. They must have been out in the field for weeks if the filth was anything to go by. He had no weapons and no documents hidden away, to be truthful I doubted he even knew how to read. The second man was just the same; dishevelled, weary and frightened. But the third was a different story. He wasn’t shaking like the others and his eyes were fixed on Kuhrt. He barely seemed to notice me rifling through his clothes and patting him down but he was clean so I chalked it up to the sniper’s good looks. It was only after I stood back from the prisoners that I noticed there was frost on the windows. On the inside of the lodge’s windows.

I turned to the LT with a look of confusion on my face and saw danger written on his eyes but it was too late. In what felt like slow motion I saw Kuhrt raise her sub machine gun and fire a three round burst directly into Sekunda’s back. Her vacant eyes drifted over to Kaleb and her gun barrel swung with them in an arc of horrifying finality but the LT had reacted far quicker than any of us and jerked one hand to the barrel of kuhrt’s gun whilst the other slammed into her throat and, coupled with a sweep of his leg, took her down.

Lieutenant Kaleb emptied the rest of Kuhrt’s magazine into the grinning psyker before he had a chance to speak.

Ooooo psyker! Now this was tense, and I also as always enjoyed the interaction between the characthers

 Trondheim wrote:
Ooooo psyker! Now this was tense, and I also as always enjoyed the interaction between the characthers

That's a plus 1^^

14


“Oh Throne no... Throne no” Kuhrt dropped to her knees and quietly stammered to herself whilst the two other prisoners had begun to chitter with glee.

“This is funny?” I heard Wallinga hiss before he began to beat the hapless traitors with the stock of his carbine. I was at Sek’s side desperately trying to stop the bleeding but he wasn’t moving.

Kaleb tried to say something to me but the din of Wallinga’s brutality and Kuhrt’s rising despair drowned him out.
“Silence, the lot of you!” He roared when his patience ran out. “Stand down Wallinga, we still need them to talk. And Kuhrt...”

“I’m sorry sir I...” She began to plead.

“I said silence curse you! You understand I’m supposed to shoot you where you stand for what you did to Sekunda?!” Kaleb bellowed, throwing Kuhrt’s empty weapon to one side. “Quiet yourself before I...”

“He’s dead.” I spoke the words to no one in particular but they silenced the room either way. That was until the bloodied heretics began to snigger again. This was too much for me to bear and I rounded on the dishevelled wretches with my knife. “You will tell me everything you know about the man that passed through here right now or you will tell me after I’ve removed your fingernails.” I began to edge the blade of the knife under the nail of his right index finger but the scum continued to laugh at us.

“It doesn’t matter! He’s gone down to the river but the masters are coming for you!”

I looked back at Kaleb in confusion and I could tell he had more bad news.

“This wasn’t an outpost... This was bait. That’s why they had a telepath” Kaleb gritted his teeth and slapped a fresh magazine into his pistol. “We’ve got the trail but if we don’t egress soon this place is going to be a killbox. Let’s move.”

“Sir!” I nodded. “What about these two?”

“No one’s coming for them” Kaleb snapped and put two rounds into each of their chests.

“And me, LT?” Kuhrt whispered, still on her knees. “I’ve been warp touched...” I held my breath as I stared at Kaleb. The LT was still brandishing his smoking pistol and it looked as though his arm was wavering towards the kneeling sniper’s head.

“I’ve lost too many troopers in the last 24 hours to start killing them off myself. Pick up your weapon and move out.” Kaleb holstered his pistol and I let out a sigh.

“With respect sir I think I’ll stick with my rifle” Kuhrt’s eyes lingered on Sekunda’s prone corpse as she spoke.

“Roger that” Kaleb grunted as he turned over Sekunda’s rank badge in his hand. “Let’s just get moving before we have a whole division coming down on us.”






When we got outside the sun was already beginning to set and snow was beginning to fall from Narbo’s grim sky. The road leading down to the river was worn out to the point that it barely qualified for the name. This was a fairly reliable indicator that the hostiles that had been posted to spring the trap on the lodge would be coming from another direction. But at the time the only thing we could be certain of was that staying put was suicide so we sprinted for the river and hoped for the best.

“Wallinga get on the vox,” Kaleb called as we ran. “Call in the air support on our co-ordinates and the rest of you activate your Infra-red strobes. With any luck the flyboys will keep their eyes open and we won’t get glassed with the rest of the enemy.”

“Understood boss” Wallinga replied.

I didn’t much savour the thought of calling in a danger close fire mission. Truth be told the inter service ties between the Guard and the Navy aren’t exactly rock solid and it wasn’t unknown for airstrikes to hit the wrong lines. Not out of malice, of course, but simple carelessness gets more soldiers killed than most people imagine. In the thick of a fire-fight it isn’t always easy to make out the IR strobes of friendly elements, or so the pilots tell me. All I know is ‘Danger Close’ is a damned accurate term.

We were well out of sight of the hunting lodge when we heard the resounding crash of a demolisher cannon round detonating a structure and stopped in our tracks. The Lodge had gone up in a single shot and the plume of smoke from its wreckage was far too close for any of our liking.

“Enemy armour” I said redundantly.

“Where’s that air support Wallinga?” Said Kaleb.

“En route, LT but Black’s claiming they were mobilised before we called it in and their eta is over 15 minutes...”

“Fugger” Kaleb cursed. “Alright lets move. With any luck we slipped by them and they’ll waste their time searching wreckage instead of chasing us.”
We set out again at a swift pace, hoping to reach the river before Dacker could find a transport vessel and make his getaway. But however fast we ran we couldn’t escape the unmistakable noise of the enemy brigade. They were on our trail.

“It’s no use, sir” I panted. “They’re onto us. I don’t want to say it but...”

“Keep moving, trooper” Kaleb snapped.

“He’s right, LT. I’m tainted and they’ve got the trail” Kuhrt cut in. “Anyway, without air support someone’s going to have to slow them down so the rest can make the grab and egress safely.” The sniper slowed to a halt and un-slung her long las.

“Sara...” Wallinga started.

“I’m right damn it!” She cried, locking eyes with Kaleb. “Get the target and get home” she said as she unclipped her rank badge and tossed it to the lieutenant. He caught it without breaking his gaze and crushed the pin into his palm with cruel force.

“Carry on trooper” he replied before pocketing the badge and leading the way down the road. Wallinga managed a nod before he set off after Kaleb and that left me speechless and refusing to move.

“Get after them, Tuplin” she said softly. Even over the noise of the encroaching armour I heard her clear as day. “The LT needs Storm Troopers.”
I didn’t say anything. There was nothing left to say. I just forced myself to turn away from her and clenched my jaw in anger as I ran after what was left of 3rd platoon, 1313th company.






It wasn’t long before the first shot rang out. I didn’t need to wonder whether Kuhrt had hit her mark; the storm of return fire had the staccato rattle of confusion to it. A few more paces down the road and a second sniper shot was fired. The rhythmic crack of Kuhrt’s rifle was the last link of contact left to us, every round she fired a twisted parody of a life support monitor. I don’t think anyone appreciated the irony at the time. Even now, with a belly full of scran and a roof over my head its not easy to reflect on the finer points. When Kuhrt’s gun fell silent we all knew what it meant and we all kept moving.

There’s no time for grief on the battlefield. Sekunda and Farrok had been the closest thing to old friends I could imagine; we had come up through the academy on Terrax together and within the space of a few days they had both been killed in action. One cut down in defence of my life and the other shot in the back by a psyker’s puppet. A part of you wants to scream and give in to misery when you see them fall but that’s a voice that Storm Trooper instructors teach you to ignore. They take that part of your humanity from you; they train you to believe that your grief and your despair are weaknesses that serve no purpose. Anguish becomes hatred. Dejection becomes bloodlust. And all the while you forget that you were afraid of being the next one to fall. A storm Trooper has no roots, no home world to miss and no future to build for them self.

There is only the team. Those we fight alongside and those we fight to honour. Our honoured dead.



I wasn’t grieving as I sprinted down that snow covered pathway and wove my way through the towering pine trees. I wasn’t despondent when I joined up with Kaleb and Wallinga and realised there were only three of us left. But I almost tripped when I caught sight of a figure scrabbling its way through the woods ahead of us.

“Target sighted” Wallinga blurted out in disbelief.

“He’s alone!” Kaleb growled as he surged forwards. “On me. No shots unless you have to.”
We didn’t need telling twice and despite the severe punishment our bodies had taken over the course of our cursed mission we managed a burst of speed after the traitor.

I couldn’t see much of him through the trees and he still had a good hundred metres on us but the fact that he was running scared gave a grim sense of delight to the chase. We were gaining on him, as you’d rightly expect, and Dacker had realised we were on him but the trees were thinning out too quickly. Before long the river was in sight and the bastard was heading for an old boathouse.

“Sir I can take him in the leg on the open ground!” I shouted once we had cleared the tree line.

“Negative Tuplin. You aim off by an inch and put a round through his femoral artery then this is all over” Kaleb replied.

He was right of course but with so long spent being hounded on all sides I was desperate to lash out at a straight forward hostile. It was tough to watch Dacker reach the door to the boathouse and duck inside. I hated losing sight of him but had I known what was coming I probably wouldn’t have been so eager to follow him inside.





We were about 30 metres from the building when the first floor balcony doors exploded. Hunks of splintering timber and shattered glass were sent flying and from the midst of the debris erupted the hulking form of an Astartes. My legs faltered almost instantly as I recognised the brute soaring through the air towards us. The warped armour, the heraldry of the hydra and the raw, intimidating power that emanated from the warrior still haunts me to this day. I fought the urge to shrink away from that impossible foe but as it hit the ground with a thundering crash the fallen Astartes unleashed a mighty roar that shook my bones.

I have no shame in admitting that I considered running for my life. In fact I have every confidence that I would have were it not for Lieutenant Kaleb. Where I stumbled at the sight of the renegade the LT actually sped up and raised his weapons. I’ve never seen anything like it since and I doubt I ever will. The son of a bitch drew his fugging combat knife and emptied the clip of his SMG into the traitor’s chest plate, all the while sprinting towards the vicious giant.

Sparks flared off the Alpha Legionary’s power armour but the Astartes barely seemed to notice Kaleb’s salvo. In an impossibly fluid motion for something of its size the renegade drew a bolt pistol and blasted Wallinga apart in hail of explosive rounds before the trooper could react. I blinked away the gruesome image as I continued to force myself forward but seeing how useless Kaleb’s shots had been I couldn’t begin to think of what to do or how to attack.

We should have died there and then; ripped open by bolts like poor Wallinga. We should have died. But the traitor holstered its weapon and met Kaleb’s charge with bare fists. I was frozen to the spot now; in amazement as much as in fear. The LT had screamed a challenge but he was drowned out by the sound of rumbling stone coming from the traitor’s vox grille. It was laughing at us and as the thrice damned monster engaged I understood why. It swept Kaleb’s deft first strike aside with ease, crushing the LT’s right arm in the process. Then the legionary lifted Kaleb into the air by his ruined limb and relished the scream of pain that it managed to force out of him. With effortless brutality Kaleb was tossed towards me and he landed hard, staining the snow with his blood.

“ONE OF YOU HAS GROWN BRAVE” the Astartes boomed. “BUT I SEE THAT YOU ARE STILL THE SAME COWARD.” I felt my ribs vibrate as the monstrosity gave voice to it’s contempt. I stood dumbstruck with my carbine hanging by its sling whilst the Alpha Legionary pointed an accusing finger at me. “HIM I WILL KILL QUICKLY. YOU WILL SUFFER THE LEGION’S INTERROGATORS FOR YOUR SHAMELESSNESS.”

Satisfied with its decision the giant drew its chainsword and began to crunch its way towards me. My shaking hands found the hilt of my knife but I was transfixed with dread. I can’t tell you what I was thinking and I can’t explain why I didn’t react. Unless you’ve seen one coming for you you won’t be able to understand the paralysing sense of powerlessness that hits your guts.

I wouldn’t be sitting here if Lieutenant Kaleb didn’t teach me one final lesson. He was motionless, face down in the snow as the beast approached me; the growl of its chainsword growing ever louder. But when the Astartes passed by the LT I noticed Kaleb’s hand reach into his vest. A moment later he had sprung up out of the snow and lunged at the legionary’s back. I couldn’t see what Kaleb had done but I recognised the clink of a krak grenade’s magnetic clamp and instinctively threw myself to the ground.

A second later my ears were ringing with the crash of a ferocious detonation. When I lifted my head the Astartes was lying in a smoking pile on the ground, its back a ruined mess. The LT had managed to clamp a krak grenade in the space between the Astartes’ back plate and powerpack. As far as I knew the reactor wasn’t about to meltdown and I still couldn’t face approaching the giant so I ran over to Kaleb with a mounting sense of dread. Sure enough the blast that had savaged an Astartes had torn up the LT too.

“You see...” He choked through ragged breaths. “They can bleed and they can die.”

As that simple truth hit me the monstrosity’s hold over me was broken and I came to my senses. I had let the team down.

“It’s not over...” Kaleb spat blood as he spoke to me. “Take my knife... Their armour is weak at the neck.”

Realising the traitor was going to be back on it’s feet soon I grabbed Kaleb’s knife with the urgency a soldier was supposed to have and hefted the weapon.

“Tuplin...” Kaleb whispered. “Notch the blade when its done.” Then the Lieutenant fell silent.

I took a breath as I looked down at the greatest soldier I’ve ever known. There was only one way left to commemorate his passing and I set to it with aggression. The Astartes was face down but the neck joints of its armour were still exposed at the jugular. One quick thrust put the knife deep into its warp damned flesh and my boot on the hilt made sure the blade cut all the way across the artery.







Traitor’s blood befouled the snow on Narbo’s surface with satisfying volume and the knife was slick with rich gore after I pulled it free. When I cleaned the blade I turned the knife over in my hands and froze in shock for a moment before drawing my own. Then, at the base of the cutting edge, I carefully made a third notch.

Another good chapter and the end was great. Only one left. Has the Lt forged a Stormtrooper, or will he fail their last expectations of a mission completed and honour restored?

God damnit! Now why do you keep killing of the people I like? Beside that very well done

Same here, the Sargent Major and sniper where awesome, though the main character is good too.

Sorry this had been on hiatus for a while but I'm hoping to wrap the story up soon and begin working on a sequel for Sicarius.



15

My ears were still faintly ringing but by the time I had finished marking Kaleb’s blade my hands were steady. There was nothing left. Nothing left of Arjun Tuplin but what war had made me. Bruised, half starved and embittered beyond anything you could imagine. The only thing keeping me on my feet was the twisted rage that burned inside my gut. I felt cheated. Alone. I wasn’t even thinking about the mission anymore. I just wanted to find a living thing and cause it pain. Find something someone had built and burn it to the ground.

The boathouse swam into focus as I steadied myself. The one who had taken my family from me was cowering inside. My feet started moving of their own accord. I stumbled at first but slowly regained my footing and picked up the pace until I was striding towards the large wooden double doors with vigour.

“Dacker!” I roared through ragged breaths. “I know you!”

I wrenched the doors open with a savage grunt and swept my gun across my field of vision.

“I know your face!” I lowered the carbine and staggered forwards, crazed with pent up rage.

“And I know your fate!” I cackled as I entered the boathouse.

Rusted machinery and empty storage containers were scattered throughout the building forming a maze that led to the riverbank. I made it three paces into the shade before I was tackled to the ground by a raving gakstain dressed in the dappled grey camouflage of the traitorous Narbo PDF. He came at me from the shadows with a crude axe that would have cleaved my skull open had I failed to break its fall with my carbine. The weight of the attack still forced me off my feet and we crashed to the ground hard. His axe was embedded deep in the receiver of my gun rendering both weapons useless. I didn’t care. I felt nothing; No fear or surprise. I was laughing as we fell together. I kept laughing as I drove an elbow into the heretic’s throat and my cackles roared throughout the building as I drew Kaleb’s knife and drove it through the hostile’s eye socket.

I was lost to bloodlust. It happens. Even to Astartes, it can happen. I suppose I was lucky the fethers that were guarding Dacker’s exfil point were barely armed. But I suppose they thought a full blown Alpha Legionnaire would be enough to cover a retreat. They must have felt some cold black fear on their cursed hearts when I walked into that boathouse and started butchering them.

The second one was gibbering as he rounded one of the boathouse’s crooked turns and raised a hefty club. His eyes were wide and he screamed as he ran at me. I was still smiling, my focus was absolute. He swung down at my head but I sidestepped the blow with inches to spare. As his momentum carried him past me I grabbed at the dog’s lank hair and jerked his head back, exposing his neck. I opened his throat with one quick slash and threw the wretch to the ground.

“You’re mine now Dacker!” I shouted. I wanted him to hear me coming. When I turned the next corner I was happy to see my words were having the right effect. The third of the Narbo PDF troopers was too scared to come for me. The youth was shaking in place, trying desperately to point a machete in my direction.

“Put it down and I’ll make this quick” I told him quietly. “You don’t want me to cut you up in a struggle and leave you to bleed your guts out, son.”

The traitor stammered out a few nonsensical syllables but when I took a step forward he dropped his blade and sank to his knees. I kept my word, he died quickly enough. I had to kill him. I couldn’t leave him to gather his wits and come at me from behind. He was a traitor. I had to kill him.

When the water finally came into sight I got what I was looking for. Dacker, scrabbling away frantically on a dilapidated, old tugboat; trying to get the engine running before I caught up to him.

“You look scared, Dacker” I growled. “Or should I say, Herud Gathis. We’re Progenia alumni after all.”

The traitor froze at the mention of his real name. After a moment’s pause he stopped his work and slowly raised his head to face me.

“So you finally caught up with me, Arjun?”

“That’s right, Herud. You’re mine now.”

“What makes you so sure, old friend?” Herud laughed. “You’ve lost your gun.”

“Well that’s as may be but this knife was enough to put that Astartes out there down so I don’t think I’ll have too much trouble with you.” I snarled as I started forward.

“Hold up there, Arjun” Herud taunted as he raised a laspistol. “You’re outmatched... Again. See that was always your problem. You always thought you could coast by on luck and grit. But the reason the Ordos turned you down is the same reason you’re staring down the barrel of a gun. You don’t see the big picture. Even if you could take me down there’s a battalion of Narbo’s disenfranchised sons and daughters out there. You’re done.”

“Good old Herud Gathis. Constantly one step ahead aren’t you?” I sighed with a smile. Combat training sharpens your senses; there’s no doubt about that. A few seconds later the dull murmur I had noticed began to pick up and mount until the deafening roar of an Imperial Navy tactical wing passed overhead. When their payload dropped on the, now exposed, Narbo PDF Gathis’ attention flickered away and gave me room to move.

The weight of the service revolver I had stolen from that cocksure Naval Security armsman was heavy under my tactical vest. In my blood fuelled delirium I had chosen to kill Gathis’ henchmen with Kaleb’s blade over firing cold clinical shots. My arm was in motion the second I saw my window. Herud Gathis was no fool but he was no soldier either. His eyes weren’t on the prize and I only needed the barest of moments.

The revolver slid smoothly out from under my vest. Its barrel was engraved with the gothic inscription ‘Fidelitas’. I clicked the hammer back as I swung the weapon towards Gathis. The cylinder seemed to rotate in slow motion. Every mechanism clicked seamlessly into place as the sights lined up on my target.

I pulled the trigger without thinking. The discharge was loud. The round was heavy calibre. The trajectory was flawless.

Herud Gathis twisted in place as his right shoulder exploded in gore. His laspistol flew overboard after his fingers went limp and he sank to the deck. I allowed myself a smile.

“And you never paid attention to the little things.”










I bound the traitors wound along with his hands and feet and left him on the deck of the boat as I got the engine started. The aerial bombardment was still continuing in full force and I prayed to the Emperor that my IR strobe was working. By that point I wasn’t so much concerned with survival as I was making sure that Gathis suffered the full sanction of an Imperial interrogation and execution. A fiery death in an airstrike just didn’t feel like enough of a punishment for that fether.

I had managed to get the boat out onto the river and sailing back towards imperial lines before Gathis found the strength to speak.

“You think handing me over is going to save you?” He spat. “After everything the Imperium put you through on this planet you actually believe you can trust them?”

“Honestly Herud, the only thing I trust in is that you’re going to suffer. That’s the only justice my comrades can hope for now.”

“I’m not the one that killed your comrades, Arjun. The Imperium were the ones that hunted you down. You saw it! You saw how quickly they turned on you. As soon as an asset is compromised they disavow and exterminate. Its sick.” Herud was pleading but the deaths of my team still weighed heavily on my thoughts.

“Its war is what it is, Herud” I snapped. “You’d have me join ranks with heretics and madmen because command has to make difficult decisions? Just what the hell happened to you anyway? Got pissy when the Ordos turned you down?”

“I found my calling when the legion opened my eyes to the truth. The Ordos sent me to Naval Intelligence and from there I got a firsthand view of just how the Imperium views its citizens. You’ve seen how it can be, Arjun. You’ve seen the indifference, the spite, the fear.”

“I’ve seen the alternative too. Bloody psychopaths declaring independence and for what? For the people?!” I snarled. “The people suffer in war. Farmers’ sons go to die on blood-spattered battlefields and planetary governors watch from the hive spires. Insurrection makes us weak and weakness makes us paranoid. All you and your legion have done is sow misery, Herud. That’s all you’ve done.”

“You think about this, Arjun. When I was compromised the Alpha Legion came for me. They sent one of their own to get me out. What did the Imperium do for you?” Gathis growled through the pain in his shoulder and the spite in his heart.

I didn’t reply. My thoughts had turned to Mr Black and what he was going to do when I handed Herud Gathis over to Naval Intelligence. All I could think about in that moment was the planetary news broadcast that aired the deaths of my brothers in arms. Staff sergeant Tarleton staring down that cruel featured Commissar with all the defiance you’d expect of a righteous Imperial hero. Then the cold crack of betrayal as a pistol fired and took his life.

It wasn’t going to happen to me. I’d look down over Mr Black’s corpse before I let him dishonour the 1313th again

Very good. I can't wait for the final chapter and the final outcome of this fine tale.

Glad you liked it

Oh this was tense, well paced and above all loads of gritty details! Well done sir well done

Thanks bro!

Smaller chapters now.



16

“You know you really ought to consider shutting up” I called back to Herud. The fether had been sermonising at me ever since he woke up and no amount of blood loss appeared to be able to quiet him. “I don’t have any drugs” I started as I stepped away from the helm and let the skiff cruise along. “That means there are two options left open to you and I don’t think you’ll like any of them.” I kneeled down in front of the bloodied and sputtering heretic, calmly reflecting upon the fact that despite knowing next to nothing about him he was still the one person I’d known since my childhood.

“You don’t scare me, Arjun” he spat. “My conscience is clear.”

“Oh I’m sure you think you’ve a glorious martyrdom ahead of you but you really ought to be concerned with all of the razor sharp things that come first. See I can’t stand the sight of you. I want to cut you full of holes just looking at you. But you have a modicum of value to me so I’m holding off. But that doesn’t mean I want to listen to you. Feth, you don’t even need your tongue for the interrogators at Naval Intelligence to get at what you know.” I chuckled as I made a show of drawing Kaleb’s knife. The keening edge of the blackened blade oozed lethality and I didn’t bother hiding the relish I felt as I traced it across Herud’s throat. “So as I said, you’ve got two options. You can keep on with your blasphemy until I mutilate you. Or you can shut the feth up.”

“You cannot silence the truth, corpse worshipper” Gathis cursed.

“Suit yourself” I replied. The procedure was simple enough. I rapped the hilt of Kaleb’s knife on the traitor’s nose making him yelp in pain. With my other hand I grabbed the liar’s tongue; my combat gloves were grimy with battlefield dirt giving me a good purchase on the greatest weapon of the enemy. Slicing the tongue off was easy and the blood spatter was warm against my skin in the cool winter’s air. He screamed; well he gargled a great deal. The restraints on his arms and legs kept him from thrashing around too much but he was distressed enough to rock the boat.

The hard part was cauterising the wound. This long into a deployment I was practically fighting with sticks and stones but I still had the stolen revolver. I fired the remaining five rounds into the air; the airstrike was still ongoing to the north but it was a little too far off by then to cover the sound of my shots. Unfortunately I didn’t have much of a choice, if you permit me to exclude the option of leaving that heretic unharmed. At any rate it came down to trying to grasp at Herud Gathis’ mutilated stump of a tongue with one hand and forcing the red hot barrel of the revolver into his mouth with the other. It wasn’t exactly a medicae operation but the bleeding died down to a manageable level. Or at least enough for me to stop caring

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you” I said as I turned back to the helm. “Well thinking about it I don’t suppose you’ll be saying much of anything to anyone.”

+++ I told you, you cannot silence the truth you worthless whoreson +++

“Another telepath... of course. And you of all people should know my mother was undoubtedly a pure and humble Imperial servant.”

+++ They’re going to kill you +++

“They may very well try” I replied as I steered us down the winding river towards Narbo Primus. The truth is I was fairly sure Gathis was right. Being a telepath he probably knew I was concerned about my return to Imperial lines and he wouldn’t let it go.

+++ Turn the boat around. Present yourself to the Legion and your skills will finally be put to good use +++

“I’ve no doubt your masters are in need of some more cutthroats. My team alone has killed enough of your friends to thin out the numbers in your clubhouse.”

+++ Insurrection blooms on this world. Legions of martyrs are pledging themselves to the cause every day whilst your rotting Imperium can only attempt to stem the tide +++

“As we have for millennia, Herud. I may not have paid a great deal of attention in our civic duty classes but I heard enough to know that the Imperium stands on sacrifice. For throne’s sake Herud you came up through the scholam! You can’t tell me these weak platitudes turned you from the Emperor’s light.”

+++ You call them platitudes. The simplicity of the truth is its greatest strength. The Imperium is weak, Its weakness has made it paranoid. Its paranoia has made it tyrannical +++

“You’re clutching at straws. We’re not far off Imperial lines and you think you’re going to turn me traitor with a five minute speech on heavy handed repression.”

+++ I said Tyranny. You brought up repression +++

“I’m not blind, Herud” I called with a hint of strain in my voice. “But neither am I stupid. The things I’ve done these past few days... I’ve learned the cold truth. The Imperial truth. Survival requires harsh measures.”

+++ How many Imperial dogs have you killed +++

“Today...” I sighed. “One by my own hand... Who knows how many died in that riot.”

+++ And Do you believe you will be forgiven? +++

“You know I don’t.”

+++ And yet you continue to sail us closer to your executioners +++

“Where we differ, traitor. Is that I believe I should answer for my crimes. My life isn’t worth my soul.”

+++ You’re weak, Arjun. You always were and now you’re going to waste your talents on a misguided sense of justice +++

“Maybe...” I whispered.



He left me alone for a while after that. Who knows why. Perhaps he sensed me losing my temper. I was. Given that I was gearing up for a showdown with Mr Black the satisfaction of killing Herud ‘Dacker’ Gathis myself was all too tempting. I didn’t. Obviously I didn’t. But it could have gone either way. The real decider was crossing into Imperial territory and seeing two black speeders on the horizon.



Kind of made my decision for me to tell you the truth.

Ooooo the tension is almost so thick you could carve it with a knife, well done!

Another fine addition here. it'l be interesting to see what will happen when we meet up with Mr.Black. I'm in two minds weather he will become the next Kaleb leading some Shocktroopers fresh out of boot, or Black just blowing his brains out when his back is turned after he's made the drop.
Interesting times ahead, what ever happens.

 Themanwiththeplan wrote:
Another fine addition here. it'l be interesting to see what will happen when we meet up with Mr.Black. I'm in two minds weather he will become the next Kaleb leading some Shocktroopers fresh out of boot, or Black just blowing his brains out when his back is turned after he's made the drop.
Interesting times ahead, what ever happens.

Yes indeed, very intresting times ahead of us indeed

Thanks a lot guys!

I hope you like how I wrap this up. I promise I won't keep you waiting too long.

Good to hear that we will not need to wait long! Because that would make me a sad Space Wolf

Oh I'm not worried either. If see, I've got a kill team watching you even now with their emrald eyes from the shadows, but don't fret. I strongly suggest no sudden movements though.

The five Panthers had been watching their target for months, growing ever more accustomed to his movements and manotany of daily life. Every detail and action seen was diligently noted in their reports as they awaited the order to strike down their target or move on to their next theatre of operations. But each of the five were eager for the kill.
Brother-Sargent Hatalus watches his target through the magnifying power of his binos as Brother Stevross, kneeling at his feet, peers through the sights appearing on his helms optics linked from of his bolter as the recitule stalks the marks bobbing head as it moves back and forth across the room.
Weeks earliar the team had infiltrated the area and chosen the house they now occupied for it's commanding views of the terrain before killing all those inside before dragging the cadavars up stairs to the room theynow stood in. The now moulded, bloated corpses of the homes late inhabitants lay upon the floor behind them in unnatural poses as they slowly putrified into the carpet. But sealed in their war plate, the smell barely registered to the two Astartes standing aback from the street lighting in the rooms shadows.
Looking upwards to his towering Sargent standing immobile above, Stevross asks simply.
'Now?'

Hatalus slowly lowers the binos from his eyes as he stares down to Stevross' up turned face before relpying. '.....No. We wait.' And returns to watching the mark as he types away on a crude communication device linked to some form of pict screen belonging to this century.

Haha awesome!

Pah, ignore my crude scratchings in the dust. I was going to go a bit further and have them burst into your home telling you to put the bolter down, which actually turns out to be a bagal, but I didn't want to write a random chapter on your story.

Posting to read later on, yay Stormtroopers.

Edit: Have you served in the military? I could swear you're quoting some of my drill instructors and strapping 40k terms

Hey man, hope you enjoy the story!

I've never served in the military but I'm happy to hear you think ther terms are coming off authentic

 Bobthehero wrote:
Posting to read later on, yay Stormtroopers.

Edit: Have you served in the military? I could swear you're quoting some of my drill instructors and strapping 40k terms

That thougth passed my mind too, the termelogoy is very good in this one

More weeks pasted as they watched their target. And it was a battle to stiffle the boredom of in-action their duty had forced them to. They took turns watching their mark going about his daily grind, and at times made a game of inflitrating the targets habitation when he was out, and removing or moving items for added points if he never noticed.
A Panther was now perminantly stationed in his attic. Stripped down to a body glove and a cloaked shroud to conceal his weapons, he was for all intents and perposes, a ghost in the darkness, and at times had taken to watching the target sleep from the corner of his room.

Across the road in the OP, Brother-Sargent Hatalus stepped over the growing pile of letters by the front door as he exited the stairs and made his way to the back room of what passed for a kitchen in this crude century. Entering the room he found the three members of his squad either polishing a segment of armour or cleaning a part of their wargear, and the air was heavy with the smells of lapping powder, oil, and grease.

Halting in the doorway, he panned the room with his visor as he looked over their ordered belongings and tried to ignore his squad who had halted mid action and where staring up evspectantly at their commander.

'Target is decleared green, conformation confirmed. We move in five minutes.' he stated simply before stridding from the room while his squad moved to obey the word.

Four minutes and fifty-two seconds later, the squad where now clustered by the front door that lead out onto the street. The piled papers had been removed for it's impedment to allow for a quick egress and the last incendary charge had been set where they would cause secondry fires tothe structure to act as a destraction for when the time came to make their move.

Peering through the side glass panel to the door, Hatalus could see darkness had fallen a while before, and the only people to be seen under the street lighting were a few kanine owners walking their pets and one or two roaming gangs of youths.
Turning back to his squad he nodded only once and slowly eased the catch off the door before slipping outside into the cool night air.

Now outside and moving down the driveway with his three man squad in tow, they halted by the bushes that marked the boundy of the habitation and the last true cover aside from a scattering of parked cars dotting the street.
Seeing all was clear he waved his squad forward, and by twos, they leapfrogged across the road while their weapons scanned the many doorways and windows for any signs of movement or alarm.
Upon reaching the targets door Streveross dropped into a crouch and proceeded to slice the locks with a plasma torch to gain entry.

'twenty seconds.'he said as a bright white light flickered in front of his face and made all their shadows dance and jerk in the moon light.

'Why so long?' Ganatus whispered at his shoulder as he watched a family across the street watching the latest reality T.V while eating a meal on their laps.

'His security is better than I thought..........I'm in.' with a twist of the wrist he deactivated the torch and returned it to one of his pouches and pushed the still smouldering door open.

Taking the lead once again Hatalus lead the way inside the dark intierer his optics made a mockery of in his quest to find the stairway that would lead them upwards towards their final goal.
Climbing slowly so as to minimize any sound, they found Brother Vettle waiting for them at the top step who only nodded in greeting as they passed by and pointed the way towards the marks room before joining the end of the file now moving down the landing.
Reaching the second room on their left they took up breaching positions around the doorway as Hatalus gave the nod to Steveross to begin the distraction.

Across the street several flashes could be seen behind the now vacant OP's drapes that quickly spread into roaring flames as combustable piles were ignited and the structure began to burn with a reddy glow. A few minutes past before the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance, and at that moment the time had now come to strike.

With a planted foot, the wooden door shattered from it's hinges and collapsed onto the floor with a boom just as a tossed flash bang now rolling to a stop filled the space with a deafening bang and a painful bright light.
Thundering into the room the Panthers soon spotted their prey stumbling from beside the window as he rubbed his eyes with one hand as the other clutched an ear dribbling fluid onto his palm. When he next tried to squint through his blurred vision he could just make out he was no longer alone, and foolishly made a brake for the far door that lead to an ajoining bathroom which he thought would be his salvation, but it wasn't to be.

With a quick cuff to the shoulder as he darted by, Hatalus let the man fall at his feet in stunned shock before grabbing him by the hair and dragged him across the floor to a nearby desk and practically threw him in the chair.
Removing his Bolt Pistol from his side he cocks the bulky slab of metal to prime the chamber before placing it on the desk.

'Do you know what we are, boy?' The man nods viguarously in terror in reply.

'Do you know why we are here?' Again the man nods as before.

'Good, good. Then you know what we want of you, yes?'

'Yes'. Replies the trembling man before cocking his head at the approaching sirens in hope of rescue.

'You will be among the first to die, understand?'

With a sigh the man nods again and reaches for the activation stud that will power up his crude coginator and pict screen.

'Now write!' Demands the Astartes as he towers over the man while pointing to the screen with his plasteel fingers.

Ssooo, when's the next chapter? Don't make them hurt you now.

Ha! You got me!

Sorry I've let this slide. Real life has a way of catching up to you.

What with the Militarum Tempestus Codex on the horizon I better hurry up and finish this before the new fluff invalidates everything i've written!