Beneath the dazzling hood was the face of the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. My knees went weak at her olive skin, and her exquisite blue-black hair, pouring from the hood. I gazed deep into her soft, brown eyes, hardly aware of the dual thumps of my weapons dropping from my senseless hands. Her delicate brow arched in amusement, and a longing the like I'd never known before coursed through me. In the Scholarum, the older boys had seemed fascinated with girls, but I'd never understood them, and no women lived on the Rock. This was new, and amazing. Her supple mouth twisted into a sneer, beautiful and terrible, and she stepped forward towards me. I fell to my knees, lost in her beauty. 'So the mighty Space Marines are men, too. I'd almost thought they would be eunuchs from what I've heard.' Her voice was heated honey poured into my ears, sweet and burning. She reached her hand out, and traced her finger across my brow. Her touch traced a line of agony across my forehead, and my jaw clenched and twitched with the pain, but I could not move. Her eyes, those deep, penetrating eyes, pinned me in place. 'I would love to see what other pleasures you hold, Astartes, but I have other things I must do.' She planted her palm on my bare scalp, and pain wracked my body. Her clear, gorgeous laugh rang out across the clearing as I writhed and twitched under her hand. I felt froth emerging from my mouth, my life energy was draining fast, and prepared to surrender to the darkness that was encroaching from the sides of my vision. A flash of metal above the woman's head, and the pain vanished. I fell to the ground, heaving and sobbing, and gazed up at Hybert, my friend and brother, standing over the Chaos psyker's body and sheathing his sword. I struggled to say something, to thank my brother, but only moans passed my lips. 'Peace, brother, they are in hand. You're badly burned, but you should be all right.' Hybert pulled me into a sitting position against the land speeder, and keyed his comlink. 'Scout Hybert to command, I have two heretic leaders in custody and a wounded brother. We need a librarian, one of the heretics is a psyker.' Before I heard the response, I allowed myself to lapse into unconsciousness. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * I sat against the landspeeder, watching my brethren prepare the two heretics for transport. They were both strapped into metal mesh stretchers, shackles on their wrists and ankles holding them to the frames. A hulking blue terminator stood over the two, and I saw a haze surrounding his head the librarian's hood must be stifling the psyker's powers until a more permanent block could be affixed to her. Near the heretics, the Deathwing Interrogator-Chaplain stood speaking with a robed Marine, whose back was to me. However, the crozius that hung from his belt identified him as a fellow chaplain. It was clear that whatever happened to these heretics, they would not enjoy it. From over the trees came the dull roar of engines, growing louder and louder until the Thunderhawk came into view, flying in just over the tree tops. The massive gunship settled down on the far side of the clearing, its bulk taking up so much that the front ramp was only twenty meters from my resting place. A robed Dark Angel ran down the barely opened ramp to the two chaplains, and with my blessedly improved hearing, I heard him report to them. 'My brothers, planetary defense forces are on their way to this position. They will arrive within the minute.' The robed chaplain snarled, and turned to point at the Deathwing Marines guarding the prisoners. 'Get them aboard now! We'll have to wait to evac the wounded until the prisoners are secured aboard the Invictus. Move!' The terminators quickly seized the stretchers, and rushed aboard the Thunderhawk, the librarian in tow. As they disappeared into the hold, the robed chaplain turned to board the gunship. My breath caught in my throat as I recognized the characteristic death's head helmet the Interrogator-Chaplain wore. What was Asmodai doing here? I had never seen him off of the Rock, and precious few times there. There were whispered rumours amongst my fellow scouts of terrible secrets that Asmodai kept deep in the Rock, but I had never given them much credence. But why would a couple of heretic prisoners take priority over our own wounded? As I pondered this, Asmodai turned his head upwards toward the new sound of incoming speeders, then turned and vanished into the hold of the gunship in a swirl of robes. The ramp started closing as he walked up it, and the gunship lifted off before the large troop carrier speeders of the local Imperial garrison had a chance to land. The command speeder set down first, and a captain leapt out of the open troop door. He strode purposefully towards the remaining Interrogator-Chaplain with a grim look upon his face. As he drew up to the terminator chaplain, the guardsman stared up at the unhelmeted face of the Astartes who completely dwarfed him, and barked, 'Thank you for informing us of your presence here, Your Grace. Perhaps in the future you could tell us BEFORE you start shooting up our planet?' It was almost comical to see the tiny man rant at the chaplain, if I wasn't so keenly aware of just what Interrogator-Chaplains were capable. 'Captain, you may pass on to the Imperial Governor that we have found and neutralized a Chaos cult that was in the process of fomenting a rebellion against both his and the Emperor's rule,' the massive chaplain replied, when the guard officer had stopped for a breath. 'Your troops may now take control of the compound. It is quite safe now.' The chaplain smiled gently. 'What the governor wants to know is why your ship did not notify him of the threat immediately!' snapped the captain. 'What would have happened if your men had been overwhelmed, and we knew nothing of the plot? Why did you need to attack without our support?' The smile left the face of the Interrogator-Chaplain, and his reponse was icy. 'We do not answer to you, or your governor, Captain. Our reasons are our own, and it would do you well to thank us for removing this blight from your world. You can start by having your medics treat some of our wounded,' he said, waving his massive arm in my direction. 'Our own apothecary is at the complex seeing to other wounded Marines.' The captain glared, and finally turned and snapped an order back to his speeder. A young guardsman wearing a white band around his helmet leapt from the speeder, and dashed over to me, medical bag bouncing on his shoulders. He knelt by me, and as he unslung the bag, chirped, 'Hey, nice to meetcha! Name's Huulder, and I'll have ya patched up in no time!' His grin was infectious, and I smiled back at him. 'My name is Kinop. You have my thanks.' 'Kinop! Funny name for a Space Marine, though I wouldn't really know.' He started opening packages of bandages and ointments, efficiently laying them out on his bag. 'You're the first Astartes I've ever treated. Anything really different aboutcha I should know? Medically speaking?' 'No, as long as you aren't going to cut me open.' I tried to smile weakly at my joke, but Huulder laughed out loud. 'Naw, I'm just going to purify this wound on your head and bandage it. You hurt anywhere else?' I shook my head, and as he began to apply the ointment to my head, he whistled appreciatively. 'Never seen a burn like this before. It should leave a hell of a scar. What did it to you?' he queried, as he started to wrap the bandage around my head. 'Well, it's a bit of a long story, but I think it was - ' 'Not one worth telling, young scout,' cut in the baritone of Sergeant Terathal. 'Guardsman, finish your work, and return to your unit.' The sergeant stood over me, staring down at the medic, who gulped and nodded, and began to feverishly wrap my head with gauze. When he finished, he picked up his case and dashed back to the speeder without even saying goodbye. I looked up at Sergeant Terathal. 'I apologize, Brother Sergeant, but I do not know what was wrong.' Sergeant Terathal crouched down next to me, and put a fatherly hand on my shoulder. 'I know. Scout Hybert told me what had happened to you, and I came to see how you are doing. I'm glad I got here when I did.' He looked out at the guard speeder the medic had returned to. 'There are some things that we can share with outsiders, but you have not yet learned what those things are. Your best guide is just this Dark Angels business is our own. No one else's. We do not share it with others, under any circumstance. It is part of being a Dark Angel. Do you understand?' My sergeant's eyes pierced me, reminding me briefly of the psyker. His eyes were full of compassion and sorrow for me, however. I shook my head, but said, 'I do not understand, Brother Sergeant, but I will obey. I want only to serve our chapter well.' Sergeant Terathel patted my shoulder, and stood. 'That is all I ask, brother. I would say that this was probably your last mission as a scout, Brother Kinop. You have been a scout for four years now, and after your actions today, I am certain you will be approved for the implantation of the progenoids and the Black Carapace. You will soon be initiated into our Order, and I know you will serve the Primarch and Emperor well.' He smiled again, and without waiting for an acknowledgement, turned and walked away. I leaned my head back, flush in the knowledge of my future and my place in the universe. I was a Dark Angel. |
DARK ANGELS SCOUT STORY By Chris LS |
FABLES OF THE UNFORGIVEN |
