"I know. He hasn't participated in the duels either. I don't think he would defy the chapter for something as small as that." "Nevertheless, he should be kept under close watch." "I will do that." Finally the warp engines on the rock disengaged as it entered orbit around Fenris. The entire planet was covered in white snow, save for a few small patches of civilization. Shades of blue rippled around the planet's surface and splashed together. Thunderhawks glided towards the frozen orb in waves. Most of the chapter would be transported to the surface before the next campaign. Inside his thunderhawk, Gideon stood lost in thought. He peered out one of the windows at the dark void of space. Sensing Michael approach, he spoke without moving. "So many stars, so much work to do, so many must die." "Death is just the beginning," answered Michael. Gideon smiled to quietly, never turning his eyes from the window. Though it would be the first time Gideon had met the Wolves, he had read extensively on their chapter and its practices. But what he met was far more outrageous than even the old texts accounted for. With a slight crunching noise, his thunderhawk touched down. The ship was sliding when the bay doors opened. Cold air blew through the interior, freezing various instruments within moments. Gideon could feel the biting cold through his armor and clenched his teeth hard so they wouldn't chatter. This was the first time he had been anywhere this cold. Grey figures waited patiently in the distance with cloaks flapping in the wind. Gideon glanced back to make sure his men were following. Michael and his' squad were on their bikes, slowly accelerating while keeping a foot on the ground to maintain balance. The others walked along, fighting against the strong winds. The crunching of snow soon began to annoy Gideon and he wished he had brought his bike. The Inner Circle walked in ranks. In the front were the Grand Masters of the first and second companies plus the Grand Masters of Librarians and Chaplains. Behind them were Grand Masters from the Third Company to the Ninth Company. Each had their own strike force arriving on drop ships. Azrael led the entire group. A watcher struggled to keep in line with the Supreme Grand Master and stumbled in the deep snow. By the time the Dark Angels had left the frozen landing strip, Gideon's armor was covered in ice and crunched audibly as it moved. A marine in gray terminator armor and leaning on a giant axe stared at the approaching mass with narrowed eyes. His long beard was caked with ice and snow. Every breath he took seemed an attempt to inhale the world around him. White crystals rolled off the top of his armor and he seemed oblivious to the freezing cold. "You look cold, son of Johnson!" the Space Wolf shouted. "And your ugly face looks as used to this emperor forbidden wasteland as the last time we met." replied Azrael. The figure in gray armor threw his head back and laughed. It was a deep roaring sound that was more akin to a dog choking. "Come," said the Wolf while turning his back to them. "My warriors are eager to see how red your blood is." Inside, the Space Wolves' fortress was almost as cold as Fenris. Ice covered dim lights on the walls, warping shadows that clung to the ground and flowed across the ceiling. Were it not for his heightened vision, Gideon may have found it hard to see three feet ahead. The tunnel itself was large enough to hold three land raiders side by side. Warmth began to curl around the troop as they traveled further down into the fortress. More and more the ice was melting and running off into small gutters in the passage. After what seemed like hours, they emerged in a large room. Large enough, perhaps, to fit an emperor class titan. Gideon glanced around, noticing oil spots and cracking hard-crete. Quickly, the Grand Masters dispersed and waited for their companies to assemble in parade formation. Gideon observed his troops standing at attention before him. Three Tactical squads of seven stood at the front. Michael and his squad of five bikers pulled up to the right of them and turned their bikes horizontal, lining them up with the tactical squads. Six terminators stood before their land raider in the back, and one dreadnought was to each side of the monstrous vehicle. Other Grand Masters stood, looking over ranks of marines and waiting for the signal to enter the mess hall. Azrael was still standing by the Space Wolf and looking over his chapter. "Chapter masters, address command. I will see you at 2100 sharp. Dismissed!" Boomed Azrael. Gideon turned to face his subordinates. It had been decided by the Inner Circle to leave the vehicles in the main support bay and to remain in armor until they had begun their sortie. "Third squad, leave your ride. Fifth armor, leave your ride, all squads, relieve arms inside the Angel of Wrath," Gideon ordered his strike force. Without hesitation the marines entered the monstrous vehicle and left their various weapons. Only one side arm was allowed while they were "Guests" on Fenris. The Inner Circle, however, was allowed to maintain their arms as a sign of respect and mutual trust. Gideon figured that his fourth squad would choose to eat standing up, as sitting in tactical dreadnought armor was a challenge, regardless of location. With a few quick glances, Gideon insured that every marine had a bolt pistol holstered. There was no sense in taking chances, and he found the Space Wolves to be a less than trustworthy chapter. "Let's get some chow!" Gideon shouted. Inside the mess hall was a giant statue of Leman Russ. The large figure held a double bladed axe and stood upon a demon with large horns and the face of a goat. Space Wolves were already pouring into the hall, most laughing and making a large raucous. Several long, rectangular tables were lined up across the room and a line was quickly drawn between the two chapters. The line for food was also segregated. After retrieving the dish and some strange looking nourishment, Gideon walked to the table his sergeants were seated at. It was a scarce ten feet from the space wolves. He sat, noting the construction of the tables. They weren't wood, like those on the Rock. Rather, they were metal and stone. A rune sat in the center and the surface sloped downwards from the center on both sides. Grooves ran through the table, puzzling Gideon. Whatever they served was of equal mystery. The main course seemed to be of bone or another hard substance about the size of Gideon's fist. Several pieces were stacked next to a long, thin, and leathery morsel. To wash it down, a large mug of bitter fluid was provided. Gideon glanced forward, noticing that the Space Wolves took huge gulps of the liquid, most of it running down their beards and across their armor. Every now and again, one would be hit on the back by his comrade, causing him to spill the fluid. It poured into the grooves on the table before splattering to the floor. Michael noticed this behavior as well, but seemed quite passive about it. One table of Wolves decided to pay un-due attention to Gideon's Sergeants. Often, they would point, and then laugh hysterically. Though the harassment could have been towards the group, it appeared directed towards Michael, but the reasons eluded Gideon, so he simply started eating and ignored them. Despite their bad manners and over-inflated ego's, the Space Wolves didn't make half bad chow. It was a variation from the constant green and brown sludge that Gideon was used to anyway. Abruptly, one of the Space Wolves stood from his table, and approached Michael. The gray armored figure had hair down to his shoulders, and a long, matted beard. One eye was replaced with a bionic implant and a scare ran across it. He was definitely a veteran. Gideon, who was perched across from his sergeant on the edge of the table, sensed a large amount of tension as the other Wolves looked on with plastered grins. Whether or not Michael saw the blade approaching, he never told, but an air of unusual calm surrounded him as it whizzed through the air. For as long as Gideon had known Michael, he had always maintained shoulder length black hair. Half of his hair fell to the floor as the knife rang off the back of Michael's armor. |
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. |
