"Your hair should never be longer than your beard," growled the Space Wolf. Michael acted at once. He placed his foot over the Space Wolf's, and then stood, elbowing the other marine in the gut. Suddenly, the room was completely silent, and the ringing of armor against hard Crete echoed throughout the room. Michael had his pistol drawn and was racking the slide on it. Jumping between the two, Gideon knocked the pistol from his friend's hand and held him back. "It looks like we have a dispute to settle," called out a voice from the back. Every head in the room turned as one to identify the voice. Standing in the hallway was the same large marine in terminator armor that had waited for them outside. Azrael stepped up beside him, his face void of expression. The Dark Angels were ushered down a twisting hallway and the two enraged marines were separated by a fork in the dark passage way. Gideon decided to follow Michael to the armory. Several machines with various arms lined the dank room. Each had four limbs that were jointed, much like a spider's leg, and ended in a four-fingered hand. The fingers were adjacent to one another, and formed a diamond shape when closed. A dull, gray square held the four arms in place and had a shelf with various bars protruding from it. Two servitors positioned Michael before the contraption, then tending to the keypad imbedded on its side. With a low whirring noise, the arms came to life and, within seconds, had removed Michael's armor. A wolf pelt was presented to the marine, with long brown fur highlighted by a bright muzzle and empty eye sockets. "You realize I cannot interfere, right Mike?" asked Gideon as his friend fastened the large cloak. Michael let the right corner of his mouth raise in a smirk. "If the Lion wanted you dead, he wouldn't have sent me to watch your back," replied the marine. "I'm not questioning your skill as a warrior, but your grip on humanity. The least you can do is try not to kill him." Michael's face became expressionless as he walked towards the exit. "Perhaps I should finish what the Lion started," said Michael as he paused before the door. Gideon was set back by this comment. If it had been anyone else, he would have struck him cold. "Remember your place, sergeant. The Lion did finish what he started and in a manner that honored our chapter," Gideon could feel himself loose control of his temper. "Further more, the Wolves are not our enemy. Tomorrow we leave to fight by their side, and I would appreciate it if you didn't exhaust our supply of allies." "I am sorry sir I should have maintained proper composure when speaking to a superior officer," came Michael's reply. Gideon could hear the mix of hurt and anger in his voice. "By your leave?" Michael turned and left the room. This had been the first time Gideon had used the issue of rank when speaking to his friend. Since Michael had been inducted to the Deathwing, a dark, brooding mood had overcome him. It seemed as though a shadow hung over the marine he once knew as light hearted and full of energy. War itself could have been the culprit though, Gideon thought as he backtracked to the main hallway. Little surprised them anymore and even less could scare them. Fighting had become a monotonous action and death was commonplace. Hanging on to the men who served under him had taken precedence over Gideon's life. Loosing an excellent soldier like Michael to such a dispute would be a waste of manpower, not to mention his best friend. It didn't take long for Gideon to locate the passage that led to the arena. Several Space Wolves were en-route and he followed them int. A small, bright box at the end of the hallway slowly grew to an enormous archway. Light poured through it, and Gideon could already hear shouting and cheering. He walked through the arch and onto a balcony, expecting to see the fight already underway. The tournament room was enormous, easily large enough to fit an entire legion in its coliseum type architecture. Once again, the Space Wolves inhabited one half of the room, while Dark Angels sat across from them. Gideon stood with the rest of the Inner Circle at the base of the bowl. Michael stood adjacent to the Wolf who challenged him. Both were without armor or weapons and faced each other in the dirt arena. Michael's opponent was garbed in a gray wolf pelt wrapped around his waist. Even from a distance, Gideon could see several scars across the Wolf's chest. The marine had a long, braided beard and shoulder length brown hair. Standing, a marine in gray armor and a metallic bird resting on his shoulder spoke with a booming voice. "Are the combatants ready?" the deep voice echoed. Michael glared at the iron priest while his opponent threw back his head and howled. Without hesitation, the Space Wolf charged Michael, throwing his right arm strait forward. Michael blocked the attack easily, and countered with the knife-edge of his hand. Lowering his head, the wolf took the blow to his cranium and brought struck with his left hand. Michael was lifted off the ground by his gut and, with a def move; his opponent kneed him in the chest. Landing several feet away, the Dark Angel propped himself up on one hand and kicked out towards his attacker. With a thud, the Space Wolf took a heel strait to his abdomen. Michael wasted no time in jumping to his feet, and took the offensive. The wolf blocked one swing, but a second struck his forehead. Predicting Michael's next move, the wolf caught his left hand before twisting it down. The Dark Angel doubled over and received several butterfly kicks to the face. With a triumphant roar, the Space Wolf gave a vicious snap kick, causing Michael to flip backwards. Michael rose to one knee and gritted his teeth. Blood oozed from several wounds on his face and drained from his nose. The wolf closed in, and attempted a forward sidekick to finish the match. Michael yelled at the top of his lungs and caught the wolf by his thigh. Standing, the Dark Angel threw the wolf off balance before kicking out his kneecap and sending the large marine crashing to the ground. Pressing his knee the Space Wolf's chest, Michael pinned the other marine before beginning to pummel his face. Blow after blow impacted the man's head. Each connection caused his skull to crack audibly against the ground. Silence fell over the crowd as they watched in awe. Several figures wearing gray armor sprinted towards the combatants. Instinctively, Gideon leapt over the railing to intercept them. Michael was knocked from the broken marine before Gideon could intervene. The grandmaster slid to a stop next to his friend and dropped into a fighting stance. Six wolves began to circle them, lips curled back into a snarl. Sensing movement to his sides, Gideon stole a glance to either side. Michael's squad had jumped into the ring, and Gideon's own command squad assembled. Michael began to advance forward when Gideon put a hand on his shoulder. Still, Michael approached them. Gideon squeezed his fist and saw blood run from Michaels shoulder as his fingers dug into the flesh. The squad instantly recognized the trance their sergeant was in and pinned him to the ground. Michael bellowed at the top of his lungs and several minutes passed before he finally calmed down enough to speak. Blood had forced one eye closed and the ragged cuts on his fists were finally healing. "Let me up," Michael growled. "Sir, do you know where you are?" a corporal asked. "Let me up damn it," he growled again. The marines hesitantly complied, and slowly allowed him to stand. Though Michael was still oblivious to his wounds, he tried to wipe the blood out of his eye. Nethaniel backed the wounded marine up and began to look over his cuts. The Space Wolves had pulled their sergeant out of the arena and another marine was checking their comrade and administering drugs intravenously. Gideon walked from the infirmary and halted in the hallway. The door hissed shut behind him and clicked shut. |
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. |
