Been Around the Block
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Here's some fluff I've written in advance of a trip my wife & I are making to Warhammer World at the weekend to play against a couple of friends in a mini-tournament. I'm going to write some more after, based on the result of the games.
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+++SECURE TRANSMISSION BEGINS
+++MAGENTA SECURITY CLEARANCE ONLY – DESTROY AFTER READING
+++Transmission Timestamp 33 105744.M39
+++Transmitted: Helical Station, Laoris Sub-Sector {Confirmed}
+++Received: Fort Raelhus
+++Transcribed by Steno-servitor #XJ-101-Sigma (Liquidated after use)
+++Message has undergone auto-divination: free of subliminal or explicit heretical content or ciphers
+++MESSAGE CONTENT BEGINS
My Dear Lord Inquisitor Herrezon
Contained herein is the report regarding the Keres VII incident and the sighting of the Rogue Trader Marellius Jahro, as requested by your Interrogator.
CONTEXT
In 695.M39 the Ordo Xenos Laoris ordered the eradication of all greenskin presence in the Laoris sub-sector. The purpose of this decree was a pre-emptive effort to prevent the outbreak of any further orkish holy wars [cross-ref: Waaaagh]; three prior mass-migrations of greenskins are on record, and a fourth threatened the output of war materiel from the sub-sector’s forge worlds, which were vital for the supply of the nearby Eumenidean Crusade. Armies from Grovian, Novyimiran and Tholian Imperial Guard regiments were tasked with the planet-by-planet extermination of all greenskin clans, while Battlefleet Laoris contained any interplanetary movement from orbit. This decades long campaign culminated with the Novyimiran 701st assault on Keres VII, where the largest continent had been overrun in 601.M39. Their efforts were stymied however by the rise of an ork Warboss [cross-ref: Warboss-Mek Mittenz] who united the greenskin clans against the Imperial Forces.
The rapidity with which an ork Warboss can transform a collection of warring savages into a unified horde backed by numerous war machines is well known to this ordo, but the Lord-General of the extermination armies [cross-ref: Lord-General Ryken tor Harkaelov] was unprepared for the scale of the ork counterattack. The momentum of the greenskin assault threatened to break the Guard armies and carry the orks offworld, placing the entire campaign in jeopardy. The decision was made by the Departo Munitorum to escalate the threat level of the campaign to Comminatio Magna, and the nearest Astartes chapters were petitioned for aid.
The first to respond were the Fire Hawks [cross-ref: Fleet-based chapters], who had a strike cruiser returning from a punitive strike in the Cerenkov Reach. The majority of the fifth company, along with elements of the veteran and scout companies diverted to Keres VII and immediately began launching surgical strikes in an effort to slay the Warboss and kill the orkish outbreak before it began.
SUBJECT OF INTEREST: MARELLIUS JAHRO
The Rogue Trader Marellius Jahro [cross-ref: Rogue Traders of the Laoris sub-sector] has been known to this ordo since at least late M36 from his many dealings with xenos species. Assuming it is the same individual, it is clear that his advanced age can only be explained by extremely rare and expensive juvenat processes – something that is certainly not beyond the reach of a Trader as wealthy as he. The possibility of xenos technology being the cause of his extended lifespan (this would, of course, be cause for immediate terminal intervention were it found to be true) has been investigated, but no evidence has emerged.
His dealings have mostly been with the subject races of the Tau Empire, and on occasion with the Tau species themselves. As required by Rogue Traders dealing with xenos species, he has passed on information useful to this ordo when he obtains it. Other than these occasions he has had very little contact with Inquisitorial agents, and attempts to place assets within his extensive fleet have all failed. It is unknown how he came by his charter; indeed, very little is known about the man at all.
THE TAU
What is known is that 21 days after the arrival of the Fire Hawks in the Keres system, a heavily damaged warp-capable gun-cutter belonging to Jahro translated into the system. The ship made course for Keres VII and presumably landed; the planet’s orbital sensor array had been nearly destroyed in the conflict, and lost track of the craft as it entered the atmosphere.
It is presumed that Jahro was on board and escaping an encounter with the Tau that had gone badly, as some hours after his entry to the Keres system, several Tau craft of unknown pattern [cross-ref: known Tau spacecraft] arrived in pursuit, and tracked him to Keres VII. Evading Imperial blockade ships, they landed in force deep within territory still held by the greenskins. The Tau have had several skirmish encounters with both ork and Imperial forces, but their main objective seems to be Jahro, or the recovery of something in his possession.
DARK ANGELS
The First Legion Astartes [cross-ref: First Founding] arrived in the Keres system completely unexpectedly. It was not known that they had forces of any kind in the Laoris sub-sector, let alone a strike cruiser bearing the better part of their fifth company, and they had not responded to any petitions. Ignoring all hails from their fellow Astartes in the Fire Hawks chapter, the cruiser Relentless entered orbit and launched several landing craft to the warzone below.
This disregard for protocol infuriated Captain Galavier of the Fire Hawks fifth company. The chapter has long held a reputation for responding in force to anything they consider a slight on their honour, and it is known that Dark Angels and Fire Hawks forces have clashed on at least one occasion.
The reason for the Dark Angel’s presence on Keres VII has not yet been explained. Our colleagues in the Ordo Hereticus have made it known that the Space Marines of the First Legion have been known to abandon duties to singularly pursue an objective known only to them. The Ordo Hereticus Laoris has been duly informed, and it is expected that they will dispatch agents to the Keres system to investigate.
CURRENT STATUS
At time of transmission, a combined Fire Hawks and Novyimiran army is advancing into the Telaerian Wastes, the current suspected location of the greenskin Warboss. A decisive victory there could cut off the ork’s command group and effectively end the greenskin assault and facilitate their eventual extermination. Tau stealth teams have been detected in the area, but whether any significant military force lies there as well, it is impossible to say. Of the Dark Angels, nothing is known.
This agent will continue observation from my position in [REDACTED] and report as to the conflict’s resolution.
Your faithful servant
[Identity expunged under Edict of Extraordinary Circumstances by the authority of the Lord-Inquisitor Kharaz Herrezon]
THE EMPEROR PROTECTS
+++MESSAGE CONTENT ENDS
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Been Around the Block
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The platoon of guardsmen advanced up the street, the torrential rain drumming off their helmets. A Chimera transport followed behind, its tracks churning up the mud that the days-long downpour had reduced the streets to. They reached another building, and the flame-team moved to the front. The rest of the platoon raised their weapons at a shouted command from their officer. At another command, arcs of bright fire flew into the bombed out windows and set the lower floor ablaze. Inhuman shrieks of outrage came from within, and after a few seconds a half dozen orks burst from the windows, two of them ablaze. A volley of lasfire cut them down, and their corpses collapsed into the mud. The flame-team replaced their empty promethium tanks, and the column moved onto the next building.
Marellius Jahro watched all this from his vantage point atop a building ahead of the platoon’s advance. For the last few hours he had been dodging these extermination teams as they methodically cleansed the ruined city of Verus. The last few ork survivors had fled there after their defeat in the Telaerian Wastes, and the Novyimir 701st were finally making good on their objective of cleansing the entire planet.
The orks that he was tracking were huddled in a building opposite him that was directly in the advance of the extermination team advancing up the street. If he was going to recover his equipment before it was destroyed or captured by the Imperial troops, he would have to act now.
Jahro ran to the edge of the building that was furthest from the advancing Imperial platoon. He hooked his grapnel on a jutting gargoyle, and swung easily down the four storeys to the alley below. Two sharp tugs on the rope retracted the prongs on the grapnel head, and it fell down to street level for Jahro to catch. Staying low, he sprinted across the street, using the wrecks of civilian groundcrawlers to stay out of sight.
He vaulted through a blown-out window, his enhanced eyesight quickly adjusting to the gloom. The building was a manufactorum, a criss-cross of walkways and gantries hanging over a wide workfloor dotted here and there with heavy machinery. Over the constant drip of rainwater and the distant rumble of artillery bombardment he could hear two greenskins arguing in a guttural tongue from the opposite side of the workfloor. Jahro located a ladder that could bear his weight, and climbed swiftly up to the walkways. He moved silently over the space below, until he was looking down at the quarrelling orks.
There were two of them, bulky and hunch-backed, their dark-green flesh glistening from the rain. They were clad in rags and crude plates of metal, and he could see no weapons other than heavy blades spotted with rust. Between them was what they were arguing over. The Tau communication relay was valuable beyond measure, but to the orks it was likely just something shiny that they had looted out of instinct. To Jahro however, it held the potential of establishing a trade empire beyond anything the Imperium had ever seen.
Previously his enterprises had been stymied by the vagaries of astropathic communication; something that necessarily limited the size of any trade network he had established. If he could unravel the secrets of Tau communication technology then he could communicate quickly and reliably with his agents over great distances. The wealth and power he could amass would be greater than any he had had during the course of his long life. Attaining the relay had been an enormous risk. Jahro had used his trade contacts in the Tau Empire to arrange a meeting with one of their ruling caste, the Ethereals. The stated aim had been to discuss opening trade links with more of their septs, but Jahro’s mercenaries had instead boarded the envoy’s ship, slaying the crew and seizing their technological artefacts.
He hadn’t counted on how quickly the outraged Tau would respond, and several warships had arrived before the envoy’s ship could be completely stripped. Jahro’s fleet was hopelessly outclassed, and they did not have time for the whole fleet to reach a safe warp-translation point. But Jahro was old, far older than any of his lieutenants suspected, and he had learned in his long life to always prepare for the worst. Taking one of the looted communication relays, he fled his flagship alone in a small, fast gun-cutter, leaving his fleet to their inevitable destruction. The Tau had pursued, and in desperation he had landed in the warzone of Keres VII, hoping that his pursuers would lose him in the conflict, or be destroyed by the blockading Imperial warships.
They had been more tenacious than he had expected though, audaciously landing troops on the planet and pursuing him in person. He had been forced to land the gun-cutter after it was damaged by anti-air fire when he had ignored Imperial hails. Even worse, the emergency landing was spotted by ork looters, who swarmed the ship in their dozens. The wounded Jahro fought fiercely and slew them all, but not before a group of them escaped with the relay. He had been tracking them since then, avoiding Imperial platoons, ork warbands and Tau killteams in pursuit of his prize.
The larger of the two orks below him had ended the argument by smashing his fist into the face of the smaller one, who slunk away. The bigger ork turned back to tinker with the relay.
Jahro took the opportunity, and dropped from his position above. The smaller ork barely had time for a surprised grunt before Jahro thrust his knife up through its jaw into its brain. It collapsed to the ground as the other greenskin spun around and roared in anger. It loped across the floor towards him and swung its heavy blade at his head. Jahro easily ducked the blow and spun to the side of the following downswing. He continued the spin, wrapping one arm around the ork’s neck as he jammed his knife into its eyesocket. He leaped aside as the ork screamed and flailed around, too stupid to realise it was dead. After a couple of seconds it staggered to a halt, and fell to the ground with a thump.
Jahro moved to inspect the relay. It seemed intact, with only some minor scratches and marks from the orks’ clumsy attempts to inspect it. It was still in its carry bag, and Jahro swung it over his shoulders and secured the straps. He had only just finished securing the clasps when a furious bellow came from the end of the workfloor.
A greenskin even bigger than the one he had just killed stood in a wide doorway to the adjoining workspace, wearing heavy plates of metal and carrying an enormous axe. Jahro moved to recover his knife, but stopped halfway to the corpse as first two, then a dozen, then a score more orks loped out of the doorway to join their leader. For a second the only noises were the rain, the distant bombardment, and the heavy breathing of the ork mob. Then with a roar and a gesture of his huge axe the ork boss launched himself across the floor towards Jahro, the rest of the greenskins howling in pursuit. Jahro turned and ran.
Jahro was fast, his enhanced physique lending him a speed that few normal humans could match, but an ork in a bloodlust-fuelled rampage could easily match him. He crossed the manufactorum workfloor in seconds and crashed through a flimsy wooden door into an adjoining space. He was granted temporary respite when two of the bulky greenskins collided trying to get through the door at once, but more of their kin vaulted over them with barely a drop in pace.
Seeing no open exits from the chamber, Jahro leaped at a metal balcony overlooking the space. He barely made it, grabbing onto the lip of the floor-grating. Before he could pull himself up, one of the smaller orks that had been at the head of the pack grabbed at his ankle. Jahro gritted his teeth as he felt the thing’s filthy talons dig into his flesh. He lifted his other foot and smashed downwards, and was rewarded with a satisfying crunch as he broke the ork’s nose. It dropped, howling and clutching its face, and Jahro swung himself up.
He could feel his blood rapidly clotting where the ork’s claws had pierced his skin as he ran, along with the release of artificial antibodies to counteract whatever filth the thing had left in his bloodstream. Behind him the mob of greenskins were clambering up wall fittings and leaping from machinery to climb to the floor above and pursue him. Jahro sprinted down a corridor, praying that he had judged the building’s layout correctly…
He crashed through the upper floor window and landed with a roll in the muddy street below. The startled Imperial Guard extermination team barely had time to react before he was running again. A few guardsmen fired some sporadic las-shots, but they were unprepared and Jahro easily made it to the doorway opposite and vaulted up the stairs beyond.
Which meant that the platoon was at full alert when the mob of orks tumbled from the broken window into their path. Jahro paused at the landing, listening to the snap of lasguns and the heavier retort of the Chimera’s heavy bolter, punctuating the outraged roars of dying orks. The sounds of metal on metal and the terrified screams of men meant that at least a few greenskin had made it to the guardsmen’s line, but Jahro didn’t wait to see the outcome of the skirmish. He ran up the stairs three at a time, and swiftly reached the building’s top floor.
It was a wide open space, with shattered windows on all four sides, offering views across the entire devastated city. To the north he saw his goal. Samartek spaceport, the nearest route offworld. It was being used by the Guard as a resupply port, but sneaking onboard a mass-conveyor would be easy. Once offworld, he could hide onboard the enormous Imperial ships until he could…
…something was here. He crouched into a combat-stance, letting the heavy relay slip from his shoulder. The area was dark, but his eyesight was gene-enhanced. He saw nothing however, just broken glass scattered on the floor, and plastic sheeting shifting in the wind as it hung from the ceiling.
Anyone else would have dismissed it as the result of nerves, but Jahro had lived for thousands of years and had learned to trust his senses. Staying low, he took a silent step forwards.
Something flashed in the darkness and slammed into his chest, knocking him onto his back. Jahro could barely breathe as he struggled to raise his head. Across the room, he saw a piece of the wall detach and walk towards him. The shape and colour of the figure danced and shifted, before resolving itself as a bulky, hunched-over battlesuit, bearing Tau markings and carrying a weapon Jahro didn’t recognise.
It stood over Jahro for a few seconds, the light from its eyepiece playing over Jahro’s paralysed form. The last thing he saw was several other shapes materialising out of the gloom, before the first raised its weapon and blasted him in the chest again.
He woke sometime later. His bodyclock told him it had been several hours – outside the sky was dark, the rainstorm having moved off to rumble in the distance. He had been moved, propped up against a wall. He tested his limbs, but none of them responded.
The three Tau stealthsuits stood guard over him, their stun-weapons levelled at him. Behind them stood another of their kind, unarmoured, clad in a long flowing robe. Seeing Jahro awake, it raised one of its arms to a metal device clasped around its wrinkled neck. It spoke in a mellifluous voice that seemed to have no distinct words, but the device at its neck translated them instantly into Gothic.
“He is awake”
The crunch of glass under heavy tread came from around the corner. Jahro struggled to turn his head, straining his eyes to see who approached. The newcomer came into view.
For the first time in ten thousand years, he knew fear.
It was a giant, as tall as he was, but its height was amplified by the jet-black armour it wore. In one arm it bore a colossal mace, and a heavy pistol was slung at its side. Its helmet was a leering skull, and its eyes burned like cinders.
It turned towards the Tau Ethereal. Jahro felt his hearts lurch as he saw the winged sword emblem on its shoulder guard.
“Take your device and leave”, the newcomer said to the Tau. Its voice was deep and harsh from its vox-grille. “If you come to this sector again, you will be exterminated, you and all your kind”.
The Tau stared at the armoured figure in silence, regarding it with blank, black eyes as this was translated. With the merest nod the stealthsuits lowered their weapons and fell in behind their leader as he left, one of them carrying the relay. Overhead, Jahro could hear the whine of a dropship powering up for launch.
The figure in black waited until they were alone before it turned to face Jahro for the first time. The red eyes blazed in the gloom.
“You know who I am,” it intoned. Even had he been able to answer, Jahro knew it was not a question.
It stepped closer, broken glass shattering under its boot. It placed the end of its mace under Jahro’s chin and raised his head, forcing him to look into those fiery eyes.
“And we know who you are, Eraemiel,” it hissed.
The name he had not heard for ten thousand years. The name he had forsaken in shame. Panic rose in his hearts and lent him strength. With the last musters of his strength he grasped a shard of glass and swung for the weak point he knew that power armour had under the arm…
An armoured boot slammed into his forearm, and Eraemiel felt bones splinter as it ground it into the floor. Utterly spent, he could feel unconsciousness encroaching once more upon him.
“Save your strength, Brother Eraemiel.” The Interrogator-Chaplain spat the last two words as a curse. Through the shattered window behind him, Eraemiel could just make out a black dropship approaching through the twilight.
“We have much to discuss.”
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