Gideon looked around the armory. Lasguns and bolters filled racks that ran the length of the room. Larger ordinance was stored in sealed crates on the floor. He suspected the light level was low in the ship, but his enhanced eyes saw the room as a bright cube in the middle of a pale, black ocean. Oxygen circulators hummed loudly, and doors whined open, then closed again. One of the armor's staff approached him with a damming look. "I'll have that sidearm, and any grenades or ammunition you currently carry," said the man. Gideon didn't like his tone, but Asmond had told them to relinquish their weapons. "Let me make this clear," said the man, "we don't want any" he paused before continuing. "Situations aboard the ship." Hitting the release button for his belt, Gideon handed over his pistol and ammunition. He hadn't received a new supply of grenades and Malachai was fiddling with his chainsword again. Gideon handed his weapons over to the waiting man, then turned to leave. "And by what name do you go by?" The man asked in an irritated voice. "Gideon." As he left the room, Gideon caught site of Michael. "I suppose they want us to fight with harsh words and our indomitable faith," said Gideon. Michael smiled and nodded slowly. He had already taken off his belt and holster. Michael laid them on the desk, along with his massive chainsword. It took the both of the smaller man's arms to lift the weapon, and carry it to an empty weapon rack. Michael walked back to the doorway, where Gideon was still waiting. The two marines began walking down the narrow passageway, towards the chow hall. Imperial guardsmen and sailors populated the halls. They all spoke quickly and loudly, shooting nervous glances at the two Dark Angels. One particular guardsman was sitting on a large ammo crate and smoking an odd, cylindrical piece of wood. Green smoke lifted up from the lit end, fanning out into an emerald fog. The man looked at Michael and Gideon from the corner of his eye, but paid no further attention. It seemed strange to Gideon that these people would be so relaxed. Even if they were stowed safely away in an imperial cruiser, warriors should remain ever vigilant. "Safety is never guaranteed, you of all people should understand that." "We're on an imperial cruiser, in the middle of no-where. The chances of an attack are far from remote." "Do you remember the smell? The odor of burning flesh? You thought you were safe back then. Chaos does not live by our rules, nor does it adhere to its own." Gideon remembered, but it was a fleeting memory. He was young then, and he couldn't remember what had happened to his village, or, at least very little. "Are you saying that there are chaos forces on this ship?" "I am saying that chaos cannot be predicted. Their true powers have rarely been seen, and no-one is prepared for their incursion." "Gideon!" Gideon shook his head and looked up. "Are you going to get some food, or just sit there and hold that tray?" Gideon looked to his left and saw Tyrpheli scowling at him. "Yeah, sorry. I was just lost in thought," answered Gideon. "Be cautious of letting your mind wander, brother. It may not come back." Nodding, Gideon looked back to the food. It was placed in large tubs on a counter top. Lights ran along the entire cafeteria, illuminating the sustenance with a bright glow. The food itself was odd, and certainly, nothing like what Gideon was used to. Strange white things, like hair sat in one tub, and a steaming spheres sat next to it. Moving quickly, Gideon scooped some of the hair-like stuff onto his plate, then moved down the line. There were bowls of chopped plant matter, and at the very end of the counter, bowls of strange sauces. Gideon grabbed a roll and observed guardsmen eating their dishes. One had splashed a white sauce on his chopped plant dish. Gideon looked at the assortment, then picked up a ladle and poured white sauce on his "hair." Another guardsman spread a yellowish substance on his roll. Looking over all of the dishes, Gideon could not find anything that resembled the material. Finally he gave up, and simply put a dark yellowish cream over his roll. Michael was waiting patiently for Gideon to set down across from him. He had noticed that the guardsmen were not eating according to their squad or rank, except for the officers, who were mixed together as well. The men were in good spirits. Most were talking loudly and laughing. Gideon was surprised to see that none of the men were armed. Not even a laspistol or knife. Shrugging it off, he scooped up a fork full of the white stringy stuff and started to put it in his mouth. "They're here." Gideon dropped his fork. It rang off the metal floor at the same instant the ship began to shake. The entire cruiser swayed to the left. Men, trays, and food slid across the deck, clanging against the wall. Red lights began to flash and a loud siren roared over the speakers. "The armory!" shouted Gideon. Michael nodded and the two began crawling over support beams and yelling guardsmen to the door. Tyrpheli slid down beside them, his armor grinding on the metal deck. "You aren't thinking about having fun without me, are you?" asked Tyrpheli. Gideon slammed him on the back and smiled. "Wouldn't dream of it. Give us a boost," replied Gideon. Tyrpheli and Gideon cupped their hands together, and let Michael use them as a step to reach the door. Once he had crawled through, he turned and dragged Gideon up, while Tyrpheli pushed up on Gideon's feet. Both Gideon and Michael turned to grab Tyrpheli and haul him through the door. Guardsmen were opening a door on the opposite side of the room. "Think they know something that we don't? asked Tyrpheli. "How to run away?" commented Gideon. Michael shrugged and started down the hallway. Instead of moving forward, he rose into the air. Gideon and Tyrpheli soon followed. "The gravity generators," said Michael. "Dammit!" shouted Tyrpheli. Gideon had already floated near the bulkhead, and felt dizzy. He could not control his velocity. When he neared the ceiling, he put his hands out to stop his ascent. Before he could realize his mistake, Gideon was moving quickly back down, towards the deck. "Use the support beams to propel yourself," said Michael. He was hanging on to a beam and keeping himself in place. With a low grunt, Michael propelled himself down the hall. Gideon and Tyrpheli mimicked his movements, and soon they were speeding down the corridor. They alternated beams, crisscrossing the hall. Without the artificial gravity, Gideon felt extremely light. His heavy power armor did not weigh him down. Tyrpheli noticed something odd between one of the beams. Hanging on to the next support, he swung around it, and shot back the way they had come. Gideon and Michael turned and followed him. There was a large gapping hole where an armored wall should be. The edge of the hole was a darker color than the rest of the wall, and unevenly cut in a u-shape. On the other side was a transport ship, the markings of chaos clearly visible. Blood was splashed about the walls, most of it dried and crusted. "Chaos," Michael said before spitting on a chaos symbol. "Lets go. They may need us on the bridge," said Gideon. The three marines started back down the corridor again. They had not gone very far when the first screams began echoing through the ship. They were definitely human voices. The cries of pain continued as the three Dark Angels glided through the hallway.

CHRONICLES OF AN ANGEL VOLUME IV - SHADOWS By Brother Gideon

TOMES OF VALOUR

This story has been reproduced with permission from the author. Many terms used in this story (such as Space Marine, Eldar, and others) are Trademarks of Games Workshop, Inc. Their use here is not intended as a challenge to said trademarks.

TO BE CONTINUED ............

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