Psychic Prisoner aboard a Black Ship
United States
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Hello, I have been deciding how I wanted to write the fluff for my chapter of marines. I determined the best way for me to stay entertained while doing it is to deliver information through numerous short stories. Characters, location, and dates will flow in and out as I get motivated to write something new. Without further ado...
Part 1: The Watch Station
“Captain Varus I presume?” says a voice with no body, vox static breaking up the clear diction of the speaker.
“Speaking, Inquisitor Gramaton; we are preparing to board now. I was not aware you were in sector.” Says the Veteran Adeptus Astartes.
“Indeed, I had not planned on it. I have an uncomfortable feeling however and thought it best that I join you.” He responds, the captain glancing at a nearby cogitator screen tracking a single lander on approach with his strike cruiser.
“If it would please you, I will not reject your presence.” Says the captain, his command squad looking to him expectantly. “You can accompany my squad”.
“I look forward to seeing your swordsmanship again, should it be requi-.” The vox plays before the line goes silent. The captain looked to the screen to see the ship has changed course dramatically. Not but a second later the alarm claxons in the armory ring.
“Captain Varus! The Watch Station is engaging, weapon systems are live my lord!” barks a grizzled serf’s voice from the deck of the Black Scythe. The red lights of battle stations overtake the conventional white lighting of the room. “Inquisitor Gramaton’s ship is entering the atmosphere now, it appears damaged.”
“Draw fire from his craft, the blood of an inquisitor is one thing we do not need on our record! Initiate suppression fire, the Watch Station remaining intact is no longer a priority.” The Captain barks, hefting his heavy blade from the pedestal, his plasma pistol sits maglocked to his hip. He turns to his command squad, Apothecary Calon revs his chainsword before sealing his helmet, satisfied with the roar of his blade. Veterans Geer and Pugh stand with storm bolters and storm shields ready, prepared well before the Captain. His standard bearer, Ancient Jiy holds the banner stoically, its banner not yet unveiled.
The final attache to Captain Varus’ squad is the Black Blade. He sits in silence across the room, he awaits deployment orders, vowed to silence until his honor is regained. A combat shield and power sword held in either hand, his armor’s purple shoulders painted over in shame. While the Umbral Gryphites find the idea of honor on the battlefield a fickle prospect, honor amongst battle brothers must be absolute. Should a marine’s behavior be found so lacking that minor penances are not adequate, they take on the role of a Black Blade. Typically fulfilling the role of the Company Champion in many chapters, the Black Blades seek out to densest fighting and most fearsome enemies to claw back their position with the blood of the Umbral Gryphites’ enemies.
The Captain of the Umbral Gryphites’ 4th Company switches to the command vox net. “Sergeants, expedite deployment. 2 minutes.” he says, giving a nod to his brethren to make way towards their own drop pod. A flurry of acknowledgment pings appear on his HuD as he slides into the seat of the drop pod, the rumbling of macro cannons and the bombardment cannon slowly increasing his heart rate. Battle is near and he and 60 of his battle brothers were about to head straight into it.
“3, 2, 1, Drop!” shouts the serf into the vox net, the drop pods screaming into the void towards the planetoid. “The Inquisitor’s ship has crash landed half a kilometer East of the Watch Station’s given coordinates.”
“That will do, withdraw the Black Scythe to a safe distance and await my summons.” Says Captain Varus, a dull hum underlying the shaking of the drop pod as it hits the atmosphere of the planetoid. Before a reply could be received he changes channel to speak to his squad. “Whatever we find, it was capable of eliminating 20 Veterans of the Deathwatch, do not overextend, even you Black Blade.” he says. Affirmations are delivered in short order, minus the silent swordsman. An impact rocks the Drop Pod, fortunately nothing severe to damage it. The HuD’s altimeter counting down the altitude until the retrothruster fires and the Drop Pod impacts in a resounding clap of metal against metal. The doors slap open against the ground, revealing a snowy twilight.
Veteran Pugh is the first to see the foe. “Iron Warriors, Captain Varus.” He shouts, dropping to a knee and raising his storm bolter. A marine in rusted armor, with black and yellow stripes across it was already firing his boltgun at the Veteran Umbral Gryphite, the rounds exploding off the shield’s protective energy. Veteran Pugh, like any battle brother of the Umbral Gryphites, is a master of the bolter, even by the measure of Astartes. His first pair of shots slams into the neck line of the renegade, removing his head in a visceral arc.
A second pair of Iron Warriors occupy a firing position on the landing pad they’ve impacted. Crates arranged into a defensive semi-circle, while rude, are nonetheless effective. The first Iron Warrior’s boltgun fires at Captain Varus and his Apothecary, both of whom seek cover in the drop pod’s architecture. The Black Blade, either through reckless decision making or tactical determination, breaks into a sprint towards the pair of renegades, his combat shield raised to protect his torso and head. The second Iron Warrior revs a chain sword in one hand and readies a Krak grenade in his second. The Apothecary and Captain begin to fire at the pair of their fallen cousins. The bolt rounds dealing little, if any damage, but the plasma packet searing off the Iron Warrior grenadier’s hand in a glowing orange sizzle.
The one-handed Iron Warrior, no longer having a grenade prepared, decides to meet the Black Blade’s charge. The silent, stoic, controlled swordsman is met by a growling, traitorous brute. The Black Blade’s power sword sings as it cuts through the air in a overhead strike, the first strike being parried by the Iron Warriors block. Using the force of the Iron Warrior’s counter strike, the swordsman lets his wrist twist in a tight circle, dropping the point of the blade down and pushing it through the chest of the Iron Warrior. While this alone would kill a man, Astartes are no men. The Iron Warrior slams the chainsword down into the pauldron of the penitent Umbral Gryphite, the ceramite of the armor straining as the teeth rip into it. The loyalist delivers a thunderous punch with the combat shield, momentarily stunning the Iron Warrior before he disembowels him with a sidestep and yank of his blade.
The second Iron Warrior of the two was not idle during the duel, he had landed a bolt round in the Apothecary. While not fatal, or even severe, the round had taken a fair chunk of his arm in its explosion. Veteran Geer takes a position between the wounded Apothecary and the Iron Warrior, delivering suppressive fire. Captain Varus takes this opportunity to sprint across the distance. The Iron Warrior comes up to fire only to have his body split down the center by the two-handed power sword of the Captain.
All around him, his company’s drop pods were landing into the Iron Warrior’s fire. Their drop pod avoided severe immediate fire thanks to the anti-aircraft burst knocking it ever so slightly off course. Umbral Gryphites lie dead amongst Iron Warriors. It was a brutal minute of engagement, but the landing area was secure.
“Geer, stay with Calon. Pugh and Jiy, with me.” the captain says as he walks to the edge of the landing pad. A smoke cloud rises in the distance. “Sergeant Febue, take your squad and investigate the crash site.” He orders his Assault Squad’s sergeant. Their jump packs making them ideal for covering the distance. “Yes Captain.” He responds as his 8 remaining squad mates follow him as they bound across the snowy land.
The rest of the company had taken positions amongst the landing pad, watching for any more traitors. “Our primogenitor would be pleased thus far.” Says Ancient Jiy.
“Yes, perhaps he would be, I doubt many of our tactics align with his views however.” Suggests Veteran Pugh. The two stand over a fallen Iron Warrior.
The Captain orders two squads to prepare to breach into the facility. silencing the orbital defenses is a high priority, the easiest way to do that would be controlling the fire control room. One of his squads is tasked with taking a maintenance pathway off the landing pad and seeing where it leads. The last squad is tasked with clearing the landing pad so thunderhawks and stormravens can land.
With a roar of superheated air, the melta bombs blows the door locks off the entrance to the facility. Marines immediately storm the entrance, scanning for targets. It did not take long to find any. A half dozen Iron Warriors, many with heavy armor plating and heavy weapons, sit in a fortified position about 30 meters down the hallway. A torrent of autocannon fire and heavy bolters rake the first few breachers, most dead before they hit the ground. The remaining marines take cover on the outside of the facility. “Breacher protocols.” The Captain says, pulling one of his marines clear of the door way by his arm. His veterans stand near the door way, three marines stand behind them. The shielded marine steps in to the lane of fire, Veteran Pugh is nearly pushed over by the torrent. The marines with grenades lean in and hurl a volley of grenades at the Iron Warrior Havocs. A staccato of explosions leaves a handful of the Iron Warriors dead but all of them have, for the moment, halted their fire.
A garbled sentence comes from Veteran Pugh, who lies supine on the ground. His storm shield literally shredded and a dozen holes punched through his chestplate. The Aquila on its front mutilated and cratered. Were the Umbral Gryphites of most of primogenitors, his life would be saved by the Sus-an organ, that would not be his fate. Veteran Pugh, veteran of 150 years of service, would slip into unconsciousness within seconds, and into the arms of the afterlife not long after.
With no time to hesitate, the Umbral Gryphites once again entered the hallway. A steady stream of Krak grenades flying over the barricades prevented the Iron Warriors from effectively reestablishing fire dominance. The two marines with heavy weapons setup firing positions to the left of the hallway. One with a plasma cannon and one with a missile launcher. They used their extreme firepower to prosecute the position and eliminated any remaining resistance in a few salvos.
“Captain Varus, the Inquisitor is alive. Entirely unharmed. His escorts are all dead.” Says the Assault Squad sergeant. “We are bringing him to you.”
“Acknowledged.” Says the Captain as he puts a plasma projectile into the head of a twitching Iron Warrior. This assault was entirely unplanned. The fact that a Deathwatch Watch Station was silent was unusual enough. The fact it was now manned by Iron Warriors was particularly rare. He had no schematics or estimated enemy strength. He did not even have access codes to this facility.
The two tactical squads and remainder of the command squad now stood at a three way split, despite the dissatisfactory of remaining idle during an assault, Varus hoped the Inquisitor, dare he say an ally as of late, would have some information to aid him.
Within a minute or two, the red armored inquisitor arrived with the assault squad. “Captain Varus, heretic marines? This is not what I expected at a Deathwatch facility. We must move quickly. This way, to the vault!” says the inquisitor. Clearly his knowledge of the facility was everything Varus had hoped.
The way to the vault cost the lives of two more of his marines, the Iron Warriors maintained a staggered defense. Very practical but only buying time, it would not stop the assault. For all his misgivings about typical siege warfare, he was well versed in its execution. The Iron Warriors knew they were going to lose, but they were stalling the best they could.
The vault’s tomb door was ajar. Expected, but unsettling, nonetheless. Inside there was something by far more of a concern, terminators. Three Iron Warriors Terminators began to engage the
Umbral Gryphites. The doorway provided little room to breach as they had earlier, not to mention that it had cost him the life of a dear companion. Inquisitor Gramaton had a plan however. His eyes lit with ether energies and he simply stepped into the doorway. The ancient man, by human standards, moved as deftly as an Aeldari Banshee. Ducking and sidestepping bolt rounds that tried to strike him down.
Taking this opportunity, the Black Blade and Captain Varus broke in and to the side, seeking cover. The whine of a plasma cannon preceded the death of the first Iron Warrior terminator. His torso liquified in a screech of rapidly evaporating matter. The Inquisitor slipped into cover behind a cogitator, slumping to the ground in fatigue. Varus charged at one terminator engaging the hated foe in bitter melee. The third terminator began to withdraw but was suppressed by a hail of precision bolter fire. He would eventually attempt to withdraw anyway, felling an Umbral Gryphite with a pair of bolt shells in the hip, but would lose his life to a krak missile.
Varus ducks under the fist of the Iron Warrior, spinning around slamming the Relic Blade into side of the Terminator. The dense armor even managing to limit the damage of the blade. The blade was wedged in the reinforced plate and the Iron Warrior grabbed it to prevent Captain Varus from pulling it out. He raised his power fist to end the life of the Umbral Gryphite Captain. In a picturesque moment of Dornian stoicism, Varus held his position and triggered his Iron Halo, bouncing the Power Fist back and shoulder charging the off-balance Iron Warrior. As the Terminator fell on its back, Varus flipped off the limiter for his Power Pistol and loosed a pair of shots into the neck of the Iron Warrior. The first plasma blast melting the armor, the second melting the traitor’s flesh.
Varus looked up to take measure of the location, he immediately noticed the Black Blade was nowhere to be seen, he was however, heard. Energy discharges from the next room through the armored vault. Varus turns the corner to see his marines observing the duel between the Black Blade and an Iron Warrior. The skill of this traitor surpassed any other Varus had seen in the facility. The renegade’s mark 3 armor was accessorized with a pair of servo-arms and he wielded a large two-handed axe.
The Black Blade had nothing left to lose and everything to gain from felling this foe and he fought like it. Blow after blow sent in the direction the renegade. The Veteran of the Long War was no mediocre warrior however. He was keeping up with the Black Blade in every capacity. The Iron Warrior eventually managed to catch the blade in the hook of his axe and punched forward with a servo-arm. The Black Blade blocked the strike with his combat shield and kicked up, sending the axe and sword spinning through the air. The two stayed locked in combat.
“Captain there is….” Begins the serf from the Black Scythe. Vox distortion is immense this deep in the facility. Varus attempts to optimize reception as he watches the duel, concerned that he may witness the loss of another of his brothers. “….Iron Warriors Cruiser hidden….” He hears. A moment of clarity reaches him as he sees a pair of cases maglocked to the Iron Warrior’s hip.
“Open fire! Kill him now, he must not escape with what he’s stolen!” Shouts the captain, firing his pistol in example. A servo arm strains under the superheated gas but maintains its integrity. Bolt guns bark in recognition of the order, blowing holes in the armor of the Iron Warrior but he remains standing. No blood is coming, just oil and sparks. The renegade is largely bionics it appears.
The smell of ozone fills the room, suggesting a teleportarium is working its warp bending trade. The Black Blade tackles the Iron Warrior, suffering for his attempt as a servo arm grabs and twists his arm, removing it as casually as a man would rip apart a piece of bread. The Black Blade releases a shout and kicks back, trailing blood in an arc.
The crack of a teleportarium pulls the Iron Warrior out of the Watch Station. Varus looks to his felled swordsman, he lifts a cylinder and looks to his captain. An obvious smile hidden behind his helmet. "I consider your oath fulfilled Brother. Rejoin us as equals." he says to the fallen marine, taking the item. "Thank you Captain. My life for the Chapter."
The inquisitor, now partially recharged, enters to see the outcome of the engagement. “You managed to save one, excellent. Let us hope one is not enough for their plan…” says the Inquisitor, looking towards the sky, as if the roof of the Watch Station did not exist.
Please leave comments and suggestions, if you have questions about the chapter or if anything seems confusing...please speak up!
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