"Yeah, I had no one to ask." "Hardly so. Everything is answered in time." "It's not the question, but the wait that eats away at your mind, I know." "Then act like it." The prisoner had been tied up by his own rifle sling. A grenade was shoved into his mouth to prevent him from talking. Gideon sighed before turning back to Daelus. "If we were to question the Inner Circle, it would create doubt. Doubt brings hesitation and corruption. In time, you will learn, but until then, remember that some things are beyond even my jurisdiction," Gideon said in a calm tone. "For now, be content in the wisdom of our superiors and remember that your faith will protect you more than your armor." "Yes sir," Daelus nodded. The door opened and a chaplain entered the cramped space. He approached the group and addressed Gideon, speaking in a harsh, digital voice. "Good work brother. A celebration awaits us on the rock. We shall fight alongside our brothers of the wulfen," said the chaplain, while he grabbed the guardsmen by his collar. "Soon we shall elect a warrior to bring our chapter pride." The guardsman mumbled something and squirmed against the chaplain's grip. The marine drew a blue and silver blade, and without saying a word, ran it along the guardsman's face. Muffled screaming came from his throat and the man bit on the grenade so hard his teeth cracked loudly and one split clean out of his mouth. "If you do not mind, we shall return to the rock," Gideon said to the chaplain. "You have my leave. I can handle the rest of this... situation myself," answered the chaplain. Gideon nodded and motioned for his squad to follow him from the room. The ceremony had begun when Gideon's squad entered the great hall. Great warriors had been nominated to fight in the duel between a Space Wolf and Dark Angel. Each contestant would challenge another in mortal combat until only one remained. Though this rarely involved fatalities, it was a charade nonetheless. Meridus had won the last five matches. He was an incredible warrior and held little reservation when it came to fighting, even if it was against his own brothers. Gideon turned and began to walk out of the hall. "You are not staying for the celebration?" A familiar grainy voice called out behind him. "No," Gideon answered. "I missed prayer during battle. I have thanks still to give to the Lion and Emperor." "It sounds more like battle has made your bored." "You know more than one would expect Malachai. But my place is in front of my men. I do not believe in this circus, and I sometimes wonder why the Inner Circle allows us to fight one another like this," Gideon said. "Why don't you ask them?" Malachai responded. "We have better things to do than discuss trivial politics. Our time is better spent planning and directing. Besides, the ceremony is tradition, the character of our chapter." "You've changed Gideon. What happened to the ambitious scout that was full of questions?" Gideon listened to the crowed roar as the first challenger announced himself. The stage was cleared and the two marines prepared to fight in their robes. He thought for a moment before answering. "The questions are still there. I am just waiting for the answers," Gideon said. "Don't wait too long. You're likely to die scratching your head," chuckled Malachai. "Let me see your sword." Malachai demanded. Gideon nodded and turned over his weapon to its creator. "Yes, yes, you did at least use it. The poor thing, you must have missed a time or two, and haven't you learned to parry with the back of your sword, not the side?" Gideon was in no mood for Malachai's inquisitive nature. Maybe it was because the old techmarine was right. "If you will pardon me old friend, I wish to retire now." "Of course. We have a long month of travel to Fenris," Malachai said, handing the weapon back to its owner. Gideon's office was welcoming. It wasn't much, but still had all the essentials. A docking port for his armor and weapons stood to the left. Off to the right was a wooden desk with paper scattered across it and a computer monitor. His bed lay behind that. Gideon quickly removed his armor and put his weapons down on the desk. The chair felt soft compared the seat of his bike. Quietly, Gideon pulled open a drawer to his desk and removed a cleaning kit from it. Blood still saturated the chainsword and his plasma pistol had carbon build up on the muzzle. A chime sounded and Gideon laid his weapons back on the desk. "Enter," he said in a firm tone. The door opened and Michael strolled in. He was dressed in robes and had several bruises on his face. "How does the tournament progress?" asked Gideon. "I wish I knew," Michael said. "I have just returned from the campaign." Michael was standing at attention still. "At ease, what can I do for you Mike?" "Ten new scouts are being promoted to the fifth reserve company," Said Michael while entering parade rest. "Three reserve bikers will be bumped up to the second company. To put it bluntly, I want one of them in my squad." Gideon opened another drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper. "Fill out the paperwork and bring it back tomorrow," replied Gideon. "I assume you have reviewed their profiles?" "Yes." "Will that be all Sergeant?" "Yes sir." "Dismissed," said Gideon. Michael gave him a crisp salute, turned on his heels, and walked back out. After Gideon had finished cleaning his weapons, he put them next to his armor and locked the compartment. "You're correct that this is a fiasco. Keep an eye on Michael. You know the kind of person he can become. Especially since that time sixty-three years ago." |
OUTSIDE INFLUENCE VOLUME II - OF ANGELS & WOLVES 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. |
