Warhammer 40K: Socialising

"No, but I think that's rather the point" Taric replied with a half crooked smile.

The Astarte got up and wandered out into the dust and sand. The worlds nickname made cannon was apt.

"We go until we drop. Sound good?"

Brother Nikkos had been standing in the machine bay, looking to have his bolter re-calibrated. He had overheard the exchange between Taric, Ash, and Haket.

He was truly impressed with Brother Haket's restraint, resolve, and logic. While he may have the wrong end of the blade as far as the conversation goes, his grasp of what he believes was a steel all of its own.

As for the other two however, there was a fire building here. And it would not be quenched by mere rhetoric.
Taric was in the mood for violence, and Atash seemed keen for some physical testing as well.

Brother Haket was right in this matter... but at the same time only some lessons can only be taught through experience.

The veteran Apothecary considered this for a moment more and then stepped out of the metallic din of the workshop.

"I hear words of action and the lust for battle..." he growled not bothering to modulate his voice, letting it drop to the depths of one hundred and forty three years service. "...and I see two brothers bent on violence despite common sense suggesting otherwise."

He stopped just before them standing at full height, his bearing with all the authority his age and office provided.

"If you two are so keen to bleed, then it should be to a standard and setting befitting your lineage."
He looked down at the slightly surprised faces of the young Astartes.

"I will prepare a dueling ring, and there you will test your limits. I shall oversee this challenge of blood, and judge it accordingly. No armor is to be permitted, and no weapons other than your bodily selves."

He rested his thumbs in his belt.

"You are not permitted to kill each other, but I will be on hand to repair what damage you do manage to inflict. You have one half hour before the duel commences." He dismissed them with a curt wave. "Go separate ways and prepare yourselves, for this is no tavern brawl. You will represent your Chapters, so bloody well step up like it."

As he himself turned to leave, Nikkos paused.
"And if either of you idiots starts this contest of fools without me, or in any manner other than that which I have set out..." he rested his hand on his own ornate blade. "I will put you down and leave you there."

"Now go."

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Brother Vortali cocked his head as he listened to Nikko's advisement of the situation over his coms.
Brother Scarab fancied he looked like a confused animal whenever he did that, and once again wondered at where the Knights Tempest veteran had picked up the habit.

Vortali removed his helmet rubbed his stubbled jaw. "Looks like young Haket may be rubbing off on his squad-mates. Taric and Atash are spoiling for a punch-up, so Nikkos is going to oversee a blood duel."

Scarab cocked an eyebrow. "Inter-chapter tension? Or contest of fellows?"
Vortali shrugged. "With this lot? Could be anything from heat-fever to boredom."

Scarab huffed and updated the rest of the Wardogs as to the upcoming show.

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Brother Lance leaned in the shade of his Command Pavilion down on the desert floor. He was surrounded by the staff of the Chryos 10th Company Command. He looked out into the backing heat of the day, and just the though of melee combat out in the sun caused him to order all personnel to re-hydrate immediately.

"Idiots." he muttered.

Atash followed Taric out of the machine bay. "Sounds good," he agreed. "Or until one of the apothecaries yells at us," he added with a lopsided grin.

Atash’s words proved to be almost prophetic as Apothecary Nikkos came up behind them and sternly laid down the rules of engagement, allowing no opportunity to get a word in edgewise. Neither Atash nor Taric were fool enough to argue with the veteran apothecary, so they merely agreed to his orders and went their separate ways as ordered, Taric and Atash exchanging bemused looks as they left to warm up and prepare for the duel.

Once the half-hour was over, they returned to the site where Nikkos had set up the duelling ring. At his nod of approval, the two of them saluted, then headed for the ring.

“This is a really large crowd for mere sparring,” Taric murmured as he entered the ring and moved into position. “The situation must be stable until reinforcements arrive, it seems they are just as bored as we are.”

Atash let out a quiet huff of amusement. “Seems that way. As long as they don’t interrupt though, they can watch as much as they like.” He settled into a ready stance opposite Taric, and waited for the signal for the duel to start.

The signal was given, and Taric shifted to a defensive stance, holding his ground and waiting for Atash to make the first move. "Speaking of being interrupted,” he started, keeping his voice low so that only Atash would hear him, but wearing what could only be described as a smart-assed grin. “The guard bombardment cut us off a few days ago. You were about to tell me why you and Rainer tried to liberate my Stormraven."

Atash snorted as he cautiously circled, testing Taric’s defenses. "You would have to ask Rainer that one, I was merely along for the ride," he replied just as quietly, then feinted forward, getting past Taric's guard and managing to land a solid hit on the Blood Raven's right leg.

Taric took the hit stoically and countered with a swift flurry of blows. "And why was that? Alexandros would have been better served on the gun. We needed our Librarian near at hand."

Atash managed to dodge most of the hits, but one caught him in the gut, sending him staggering backwards. "You forget that not everyone had a jump pack at the time," Atash retorted once he got his breath back. "With the land bridge shattered, I could not get close enough quickly enough to be of any use there." He circled and feinted in again, but this time Taric didn't fall for it, and Atash was unable to land the hit.

"Perhaps. Lance did," Taric replied shortly, followed by another flurry of blows that Atash had to dodge and weave around.

Atash let out a huff and shook his head, even as he tried to get through Taric's guard, without success. "He did not get there quickly though, and nearly took out himself and Haket when he did."

"You're deflecting - his foolishness is an aside, and still noble of intent.” Taric struck out again, his first hit glancing off Atash’s guard. “We cannot fight those creatures without your support. We only barely managed to hold that one off long enough." Atash managed to twist his torso out of the way of Taric’s second strike, but the third caught Atash in the gut again, driving the breath out of him.

Atash withdrew a few steps to give himself room and time to recover. "And how much support would I have been able to provide if I had been caught out in the open when the beast's mental assault stole my senses?" he snarled breathlessly, though he still kept his voice low enough so that his words would not escape the ring. "I know of those warp beasts, and I know my own limitations - I made the best call I could given the situation and information I had at the time!"

Atash feinted in again, but Taric was ready for the ploy and swept aside the strike heading for his torso. He countered with an attempted elbow to the ribs, but Atash swiftly sidestepped around it.

"And what was learned in the encounter?” Taric replied quietly as they circled each other, alert and wary for the next move. “The beast was focused on you. You always had his attention.” Taric darted in, and the two exchanged a swift series of blows with neither landing any substantial hits. “You pulled that attention to our biggest weapon, thus drawing his attention to block it. We needed you distracting him in any that was possible so we could come in from the flank, as you eventually did, and I am thankful for your timely intervention."

"It doesn't matter where its attention was focused - with the kine shield it had, it would have been able to block that attack anyway,” Atash countered heatedly as they pulled apart again and resumed circling, though his voice was still low enough to not escape the ring. “With a creature like that, you need to overwhelm its shield, not hope to sneak through while it's not paying attention!"

“All evidence to the contrary.” Taric suddenly lashed out with one foot, landing a solid kick to Atash’s cybernetic leg that dented the metal and briefly threw Atash off-balance. “It caught your shot.” Taric took advantage of it to land another kick, and this time there was a snap of breaking metal as a previously unnoticed weak point in the limb gave way. Atash staggered, and before he could recover Taric drove his fist into his ribs with a solid, meaty thud.

Taric reeled back from the last blow that he could not pull fast enough, and the crowd audibly hushed. Atash landed flat on his back, and for a moment it seemed the fight was over. “What would you have done in my place?” Taric continued, soft enough so that only Atash would hear.

But then Atash nimbly lashed out with his leg from where he lay, hooking it around Taric’s ankles and sweeping his feet out from under him. Taric was caught by surprise and toppled to the ground as well. "Oh and you trust the evidence a neverborn lets you see?” Atash snarled, low and quiet and angry. “The fact that it looked like it caught the shot means nothing - creatures of its ilk are made of lies and deception and misdirection! As for what I would have done - not attacked it with my face, for one! You had the advantage of speed and mobility - why didn't you get to the lascannon first?"

As Atash attempted to propel himself back up to his feet, Taric lunged from his prone position and grappled the Shadowed Son back down to the dirt. The two warriors brawled for supremacy, all elbows and knees pistoning into one another. “I was over a hundred metres away, and had a melta bomb,” Taric retorted amidst the struggle. “The enemy was distracted holding open the portal and trying to widen it to let its legions through. I had a clip full of witch-bolts, which I used to cut its power nearly in half. I pushed the assault at the pivotal point with the enemy unsupported in a bottleneck where we could outnumber it and hold the advantage until we brought the weapons to bear to take it down. It was weakened, you could have pushed it further, if only a little."

"Oh well then, it is a good thing it was you there and not me!” Atash growled, his teeth bared as he attempted to shove Taric away. “And while I am flattered at your opinion of my abilities - I did not have the speed, I did not have the range, and I did not have the power to push it at all from where I was! I went to the lascannon because it was the quickest option I had to help you keep it pinned in that bottleneck.” Atash finally broke free of the grapple with a vicious blow to Taric’s right leg. “Anything else would have taken too long!"

“Then start to think of more than yourself, in command what would you have had each of us do?” Taric lashed out with his other leg, aiming to kick Atash in the chest, but Atash rolled out of the way and back up to his feet, landing another blow to Taric’s right leg in the process. Taric ignored the blow and grabbed onto Atash’s arm, trying to pull him back down. “We all acted in accordance with our roles as outlined in the codex. Your decision to use the lascannon was correct, but your place as the one firing it was not. We need to learn from the experience.” Atash braced himself and stood firm, so Taric instead used the leverage to pull himself back up to his feet before Atash could free himself from Taric’s grip. “So I repeat myself, what did you learn? What would you have done differently? What will we do next time?”

“Next time?” Atash broke free and swung at Taric, trying to keep him off-balance, but Taric got his arm up in time to block the blow. “Next time, stay at range, hit it from all sides with overwhelming firepower, give it too much to react to, too much to defend itself against. Only once it’s weakened do we engage it up close - and only if I can get there to properly support you in melee!”

“So be it.” Taric then surged forwards with a powerful haymaker, but Atash saw it coming and ducked beneath the hit. “But that stratagem was not open to me before.” Taric continued his assault, powerful sweeping strikes keeping Atash on the move. “All our firepower was focused in the Stormraven,” Taric spoke between blows. “The melta charge was the most potent weapon available.” He went for a leg sweep, then followed it up with a quick punch. “The monster had a legion behind it.” As Atash swayed around Taric’s blows, slightly favouring his damaged leg, the Blood Raven lunged forward with another kick. “We had to press the assault to hold it at bay,” Taric sprung back, switching stances and styles in smooth motion, “to buy time for the others to rally ordnance.” Taric maintained a steady defence, choosing his words and blows precisely. “If I had fallen back, we may have stood a better chance, but it would have been at the expense of the Regiment. You know that is why we faced it unsupported. Could you not sense the army pressing the beast through the portal?”

“Army?” Atash hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “I was not close enough to see beyond it - all I could sense was the beast’s own prodigious, overwhelming power.” His lip then twisted in a snarl as he feinted to one side before lunging at Taric, though he still remembered to keep his voice low, despite the intensity of his words. “And of course I know that! You think I don’t? I know all too well what effect those creatures can have on mortals - I have witnessed it almost my entire life! I have been one of those mortals, before I was made an initiate, who had to be defended by my battle-brothers!” He moved nimbly despite his damaged leg, trying to get past Taric’s solid defense with a series of increasingly aggressive strikes. “I have stood alongside those very same battle-brothers, defending our mortal crew, even before I had received all my implants - my knowledge of such creatures comes from no musty old tome, but has been earned from experience!”

Atash tried to drive forward and take advantage of Taric overreaching, but as he began to move, his damaged cybernetic leg gave way beneath him, leaving him completely open as he attempted to recover his balance.

Taric swiftly took full advantage of the opening and unleashed a barrage of blows that rained down on Atash’s torso and arms as he tried to defend himself. The effort proved futile though, and Taric’s final strike sent Atash sprawling back in the dirt again, completely winded.

“Stop.” Taric’s deep voice was raised this time, loud enough for the gathered crowd to hear and mark the end of the fight. The warrior walked over to his opponent, lowering his voice for Atash alone to hear, as he reached an arm down to help the other warrior rise. “I do not wish to argue, Brother Atash. I have earned your ire more than I had intended or indeed expected. I apologise for baiting you, but such things are weapons our foe will wield.” Taric’s voice was slow and calm, strained only with the effort of the fight.

Atash lay gasping on his back, but as Taric approached, he tensed, eyes narrowed. For a second it looked like Atash would ignore the offered hand and attempt to keep fighting. But then he closed his eyes and let out a long breath, the tension and anger bleeding away. He opened his eyes after a moment, his expression settling into calm detachment, and accepted Taric’s hand. “Understood,” he murmured as he rose with Taric’s help. Once he was back on his feet, he added more loudly for the benefit of the crowd, “Good fight, brother. We should do so again sometime soon.”

Taric smiled broadly. “At the end of this war, let us see who has most improved,” he said loud enough for all to hear. As they approached Nikkos, Taric added quietly to Atash, “Know that you slew the beast, I acknowledge your decisions led to that. We must discuss this more later, with cooler minds and hearts.” Taric knew the Apothecary was close enough to catch this last comment and added to the Knight Tempest, “After this I would talk to you about a theory, Brother Nikkos. I would need your knowledge as well Atash, and the Sister too.”

The two warriors stood proudly, supporting each other in brotherly solidarity and deference to each other's injuries, and awaited the Apothecary's verdict.

Durance observed the fight between his brothers and quietly graded them on their performance. While Atash had bested him back on Sothis, his injuries from the last mission had taken its toll on his ability to fight. Meanwhile Taric employed every advantage that presented itself, striking at weaknesses and dodging in and out of Atash's counterattacks while he kept capitalising on the pain and frustration that flashed across Atash's face. It was a lopsided fight from the outset and Durance had cautioned Atash from getting caught up in a battle that he could not win in his current state. Still, Atash fought with a fury and tenacity that was different from their training spar on Sothis. It appeared the heat of this planet got to everyone in some way.

He turned to glance at his fellow War Dogs. Alexandros was observing the melee with a mixture of curiosity and contemplation upon his face. Banner Master Scarab was getting into the spirit of the fight, his face grimacing and smiling with each strike and his eyes burning with fervour when the fight took to wrestling on the ground. Trying to understand the Packmaster's mood was impossible but he quietly stood there, presiding over the fight like a host at a banquet. Durance could only guess that he had agreed to Apothecary Nikkos' declaration, else Atash and Taric would not be fighting in the dirt.

Taric's voice cut through the silence that had descended after the sounds of fists impacting flesh had ceased. It appeared the fight had ended and Atash agreed to the victory going to Taric. Perhaps now he'll realise the futility of fighting while weakened, Durance thought.

Brother Lance's voice crackled in Durance's private comms. He was leaving a vox-recording.

"Hail Brother. Tell me, have our two favorite half-wits finished beating each other up?" he growled. Lance sounded like he was half asleep, and annoyed at having to be awake. There was a slurp of a hydro-pack.

The image of Lance reclining in the shade of tree with a fine drink on a beachfront somewhere was hard to shake.

"Also, if you get the time Brother, I could use your help. The guardsmen down here are getting skittish about fighting traitor Astartes. Figured we could give them some pointers." Another slurp.

"They're keen to bring war, but are conscious that failure could impact our crusade." He chuckled. "They're an unusual lot. More worried about failing us than dying on this dust-ball."

"Anyhow Brother. Straight to point. You have a very different perspective to mine, and it would be remiss of me to assume only mine mattered. I'll be hiding from the sun in the command tent if you consent to join us. Dress to impress if you do."
Another long slurp.

"Packleader, Imperial Commander, and grossly-under-appreciated Brother Lance, out."

Durance made a note to journey down to the valley floor to tell the tale in person. Packleader Lance deserved that much. His tone also lead Durance to believe that he would appreciate someone to converse with about matters other than purely military.

The mortals were a concern, for they sounded as if they could not be relied upon when the war began. They would need to be reminded of their power and how they could be as strong and resilient as any Astartes. Durance smirked inside his helmet. He was sure that they would be tested in the fires of war just as he and his brothers would be and, if enough of the mortal warriors survived, they would have to face the tests of Banner Master Scarab.

Durance waited for Apothecary Nikkos to declare the victor. He would go and speak to Packleader Lance immediately after the formalities had been concluded. The plains would hopefully be cooler than the heat that raged on the top of this mesa.

Nikkos surveyed the duel as it progressed from it's opening moments through to the determined, punishing conclusion.

Brother Ash held up well, much better than he had expected. It was no real surprise to see that Brother Taric was the clear winner, but Nikkos smiled every time to young Librarian landed a blow or refused to yield. He was sure leave a few bruised reminders for his Brother, that's for sure.

Nikkos was about to step forward and call the duel concluded when Brother Taric suddenly went and did that for him, loudly proclaiming the contest over and helping Atash to his feet.

Nikkos stood speechless for a moment. The wind sweeping dust across the mesa. He could see Scarab laughing, and Vortali with a hand over his face and smile on his lips. Then a coms from Lord Taarn sprang to life:

"Brother Apothecary. Did the Blood Raven just concede to his fellow?"

Nikkos considered this carefully as the two combatants struggled up to stand before him, bloodied, beaten, and proud.
"It would appear so, my Lord." He answered carefully, choosing his next wording very carefully. "They are close friends and while Taric is the greater combatant, his respect for Brother Atash is even greater again. I am not surprised that he would eschew glory to keep shame from his Brothers name."
Nikkos closed his eyes and prayed the venerable Lord of War would accept his interpretation. Nikkos understood where this may go if he didn't.

No more than 15 seconds later, Lord Taarn rumbled over the coms set once more. "This is most unexpected, but also encouraging. Such Brotherhood should not be discouraged Apothecary..."

Brothers Atash and Taric stood before the impassive gaze of the Apothecary, the sun adding further weight to their battered limbs. Just as they were wondering if he had fallen asleep, he tilted his head and slightly raised one finger. The universal-inter-chapter sign for "One second, Boss is on the coms".

Shortly after he stood at full height and removed his helmet before the Brothers. Did he look like he really wanted to explain something? Or was that just the light? Just then the Apothecary announced to all assembled in a mighty voice:

"In accordance with the laws and traditions of the Blood Duel, Brother Atash of the Shadowed Suns is declared the Victor! All honor to his Chapter!"
Nikkos took a breath as this news settled on the two surprised looking Astartes.
"Furthermore, in recognition of his gracious concede in the ring, Brother Taric is declared 'Virtuoso Honorific'. No dishonor to be recorded against him."

Nikkos placed a hand on each Brothers shoulder and turned them to the assembled crowd. He also spoke quietly to them both. "Lord Taarn is impressed by the tenacity and brotherhood you both display. He believes Taric conceded the victory to avoid Atash appearing lesser in his eyes."
He chuckled.
"He thinks you threw the match to save Atash's reputation with him. I'd let that one just be as it is."
Nikkos lent in and whispered.
"Only the duel overseer, in this case myself, can call a match to close. All else is known as 'surrendering'. A very bad idea considering Lord Taarn's heritage." He stood up again. "But all's well that ends outside the brigg. Drag your selves over to the Apothecary tent when finished here. You're both expected to make your own way there, ancient traditions and such."

Nikkos then walked around to stand before them. He saluted them, turned and saluted Lord Taarn, and then exited the ring to go and prep the medical bay.

That left Brothers Taric and Atash standing in a hot, sun blasted ring with peers and onlookers clapping and cheering their efforts.

---------------------------------------------------

A gnarled hand lowered an ancient pair or magnoculars down from a scarred and brutal visage.
"Not bad young Brothers." The voice was like a tortured reptilian gurgle. "Be seeing you soon..."

Taric raised an eyebrow to the Apothecary and tilted the corner of his mouth in an honest smile "It was a recommendation, not a proclamation. One of many mis-perceived occurrences since landfall of which i wish to speak more later," he sub-vocalized.

Taric then raised his voice for the crowd "It would be more accurate to state that the fight was unfair, a fault in the Iron of Librarian Atash's Leg was found, thus the simplicity of snapping his Augmetic limb. When I am to claim the Honor of Victory over a Brother-Chapter in the name of my own, I shall do so facing my opponent at his best! There is little honor in a victory of Circumstance."

As the Apothecary left to tend his Duty's, Taric Added wryly to his brother "And none in a friendly Sparring Match."

Whilst making his way to the Apothecarion, Taric sent a message to Sister Halios.
The message was short.

=I= Sister Halios, I require Sanction to Converse with Librarian Atash. =I=
=I=Squad Leader Taric Tarsonus.=I=

The only visible sign of Atash's surprise at the apparent result of the duel was a slight blink and a head-tilt as he glanced over at Taric. He remained silent though as Taric raised his voice to address the surrounding crowd. Once he was done, Atash nodded and spoke up in turn, projecting his voice for the crowd to clearly hear. "Your honour is admirable, Brother, as is your confidence. I look forward to facing you in the ring once more, when we are both at our best," he finished with a grin.

He saluted in turn to both Nikkos and Lord Taarn, then let out a near-silent huff of sardonic amusement at Taric's wry comment. "That escalated from a mere friendly sparring match into something a lot more serious far more quickly than I was expecting," he murmured as they limped towards the apothecarion area. "I am not used to sparring - or duelling - with such a large audience."

He was silent for a moment, then added more quietly, "I must apologise, too. I have no excuse for losing my temper as I did."

Taric grinned broadly as he clapped hand to his brothers shoulder. "I appreciate that very much Brother. And know that I hold it not against you." Taric took on a conspiratorial tone. "I blame this world. It's.. Taint. I would speak of this more with you Later, Now is not yet the Time. But I feel we must Watch our Emotions, and Perceptions in this place. We have landed into a Trap. The Enemy has forces enough to annihilate the guard with ease, So i must presume they were allowed to get out a message. Its content was Irrelevant."

Taric Solemnly made a Vow, Aloud to his Brother...

..To himself...

..To His Emperor..

"They will not Live beyond the regret of that Mistake."

Atash frowned thoughtfully at Taric's mention of taint, then nodded in agreement. "You bring up some very valid points," he murmured as they approached the entrance of the apothecarion. "We will have much to speak of later."

Atash nodded again at Taric's solemn vow. "Agreed, Brother," he stated with conviction. "We shall make them pay greatly for their treachery."

They reached the medical bay and ducked inside, and Atash moved to one side to allow Taric to pass him. "I am going to need to ask for Rainer's assistance in repairing my leg," he commented ruefully.

Durance grimaced inside his helmet as Apothecary Nikkos declared Atash as the victor. It was clear that Taric won the fight, helped in no small part by Atash's existing injuries, however it astounded him that he would throw away the victory honour like that. The customs of these new Astartes continued to puzzle Durance, even after he had perused their Chapters' battle records. He glanced over at his Packmaster but Lord Taarn was as unreadable as ever. Back before the Long Sleep, the World Eaters would fight until both fighters were broken and bloody and only one would have the strength to stand by the end of it. Was the Packmaster shaping the War Dogs to become like these new Astartes, weakened by honour and tarnished by concern?

Durance walked away from the sparring ring as he joined the assembled crowd in returning to their posts. He made his way towards the heavy lifts and began his descent down to the plains below. A memory of times long gone coursed through his mind. Exhilaration and blood lust swept through him as he remembered a very dissimilar fight to the one that he had witnessed. He was back on his warship, back amongst his World Eater brothers. One of the sergeants of the squads in his company, Ustanak, had challenged Erdogan to see who was the strongest squad leader in the Expedition. His battle brothers were there too, baying for blood to be spilled as Ustanak and Erdogan circled each other in the ring, taunting each other with crude Terran slurs. The arena on their warship was filled with Astartes spectators that howled with glee as Erdogan lunged forward, buckling Ustanak with a swift and powerful strike to the gut. Ustanak laughed and brought an elbow down on Erdogan's head before punching straight into his throat as his rival staggered back. The crowd laughed.

The fight was brutal as each sergeant traded blows back and forth. Their entire bodies were weapons as fists, feet, knees, elbows, heads, and even teeth tore into each other. The crowd followed every strike, roaring in approval as blood and teeth spilled onto the sandy floor. Ustanak proved his strength that day when he ended the fight with brutal dominance. Blood was pouring down Erdogan's face from an earlier gash in his forehead and, in his blind rage, he overstepped and punched too high. Ustanak bellowed his challenge as he ducked and directed an uppercut straight into Erdogan's jaw. The sound of bones breaking in both jaw and fist rang out in the arena to the roar of approval. Ustanak finished the fight by kicking at Erdogan's exposed leg and the crowd relished the crack as his shin snapped like a crude blade. Erdogan collapsed as the pain overtook his Astartes endurance and Ustanak raised his fists in triumph. The crowd screamed in jubilation and Durance was there too, yelling his approval for the brutal display.

The lift clunked to the ground and Durance was shaken out of his reverie. It felt so very real to him and Durance almost could have sworn that he had never arrived in this strange future. The visceral nature of the spectacle: the shouting, the blood, the sweat, the pain, the triumph. All of that was missing between Taric and Atash. Durance started to walk forward but he stopped. There was blood in his mouth; he appeared to have bitten his lip. Odd. He would have to ask Brother Alexandros and Banner Master Scarab if they had experienced any similar memories of the time before the Long Sleep. Back when truth and victory was proven by strength of arms alone.

Durance made his way towards the command bunker that Packleader Lance had indicated was his headquarters. The squat metal structure was utilitarian in the extreme and the mortal warriors who guarded it were similarly practical in their equipment. Despite their mortality, Durance nodded a greeting at them, pleased with the diligence and training that they displayed. He ducked through the low entrance and removed his helmet as he strode towards where Packleader Lance sat at a strategic operations table.

"Packleader Lance, you requested my assistance?"

"You should see Apothecary Gidion. The Knights Ferrous are descendant of the Iron Hands, and as such are Unparalleled Cyberneticists."

Taric entered the Apothecarion, and made the sign of the Aquila to Apothecary Nikkos. He waited briefly for Atash to enter, the Librarians damaged leg whining loudly in protest at his efforts to maintain a steady gait.

"I must also Apologize brother, and Nikkos too must hear this."

The Blood Raven made sure he had both Marines attention before he began. "Firstly I must Apologize for calling you to 'Stop', Brother Atash." He turned to face the Apothecary, his expression earnest "In the dueling chambers of the Litany of Fury, only 'I yield' signified a surrender. But I do not wish to worry over cultural differences at this time." He returned his gaze to Atash "Your passionate nature in battle has ever been a strength, and I am glad to see it ignited again. However in the fight it seemed as if it was burning too strong. I do not even think you had noticed your damaged Augmentation, and it seemed as if in your fury the bout would only end in one of us gravely wounded." Again he addressed Nikkos "This is something we wished to Avoid as, beyond basic pragmatism in a field of War, it goes expressly against the edicts Lord Taarn is trying to rebuild under." Taric maintained a calm demeanor, careful to maintain no hint of blame, merely explanation.

He turned back to Atash and continued, politely raising a hand to beg Nikkos let him finish.
"And there comes in the Second thing to which I must apologize, and also the reason I wish to address Nikkos as-well. Taunting is an age old part of dueling, but I had never expected nor intended my words to land so hardly. I am Sorry to have earned your Ire with them, and stoked it so, and I Blame you not for doing so."

Taric's expression grew dire, as he built to his point and his gaze locked with each of his brothers in turn. "I blame this place. It is no secret we were lured here. Our enemies had strength to finish off the 10th, but chose not to. They were allowed to get a message out, to call us in. If our last mission was anything to go by, they still could overwhelm us at any time. Its possible they are fractured and factional, as suggested by our foe letting us attack the Airstrip. But given they had an Auger array The fact that we were able to pick up their 'all clear' I find to be suspect, your skills as a Techmarine not withstanding, brother."

Taric stepped further into the Apothcarion and sat down on one of the bed's, offering Atash with his wounded leg the opportunity to do the same. "My point is they could have attacked, But have not. In asking why, I wonder if it is just this place they wanted to lure us too. It has been bathed in the corruption of Sorcery for an unknowable amount of time, the entire world being shielded from our scanners, if what we found is anything to go off. Beyond that there was a Portal open to the Warp not Two Hundred meters away from this very spot. My understanding of the warp is little, But i understand it to be a realm of Emotion in some part. It is possible its powerful presence in this place could manifest itself in empowered emotions, I think."

"I have witnessed Hacket nearly throw away his life when his blood-lust grew so strong he could neither see the threat of the demolitions, or hear my warnings. When Lance was reprimanded, his melancholy spiked. He, who should be setting an example to the Guard under him was sulking alike a mortal child who's favorite toy had been taken. In my own zeal i tried to amend both cases, Helping Lance to become aware of himself. Failing to convince Durance his Rage was a danger to himself and the future of his chapter, The same issue i then took to you Brother Nikkos, and in turn to Lord Taarn directly."

"Nikkos, i wonder if you too may have been effected by this. Ever the elder, seeing us as bickering neophytes, rather than the Space Marines who fought by your side on Sothis? I make no Accusations, But i cannot understand what you sought to gain from today's Exhibition? And Brother Atash, I would have your opinion on my Theory? Yours Too Nikkos, And the Sister should be consulted if either of you think it has merit. I fear there is a grave moral threat we are missing."

"Ah, of course," Atash nodded at Taric's suggestion regarding Gideon. "I have the utmost respect for any descendants of the Iron Hands - they are incredibly competent at what they do. I shall request his assistance as soon as I can."

As Taric entered the medbay and saluted Nikkos, Atash followed suit, then moved up beside the Blood Raven, his damaged leg whining as he attempted to minimise his limp. When Taric began talking, Atash remained quiet, carefully keeping his expression neutral as his gaze flickered between Nikkos and Taric, watching them both and gauging Nikkos' reactions.

Taric's apology earned a nod of acknowledgement and acceptance from Atash, but he remained silent, not wanting to interrupt the rest of what the Blood Raven was saying. Once Taric moved to sit on one of the beds, Atash took the opportunity to perch on another, doing his best to hide his relief at getting his weight off his feet. The mention of the warp portal made him frown, but he quickly smoothed his expression back out.

When Taric asked his opinion, Atash took a moment to marshal his thoughts, absently scrubbing his hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "Your understanding of the warp is not wrong," he started. "The empyrean is a realm of humanity's emotions made manifest, and magnified to the extremes. Your theory about this planet affecting everyone's emotions has much merit. Prolonged exposure to the warp can taint everything it touches, and if this entire planet has been shrouded by sorcerous powers for so long, then it is almost definitely tainted beyond anything even remotely acceptable. I have already talked with Sister Helios about the warp portal incident, but we should also consult her regarding this theory."

Nikkos listened to the young brothers as he took medi-scan readings from both of them. They were in good enough spirits for now.

"If I may interrupt" he growled, looking up from his equipment.
"You two should get as much rest as you can. You'll both be remaining here for the next 24 hours..." he held up a conciliatory palm "...because in 31 hours you shall be redeploying off world."

Nikkos paused to let that register.

"Lord Taarn has ordered this to be so. An alert has been received from an Imperial scouting party on this system's 5th Planet..." he consulted his notes "...named Jaak'a."
Nikkos snorted "Sounds like an imperial swear word." he muttered.

Nikkos passed the planetary environ report to Taric. "With the enemies taint so prevalent on this world, and with this squad's uncanny knack for drawing the great enemies attention, it would seem prudent to... well... put you someplace else for now." He pointed at Taric as he addressed Brother Ash.
"Brother Taric is quite correct. This worlds influence is affecting us all. Sister Hellios has confirmed it's miasmic pall clouds the planet. The mortals are full of doubt and nameless anger, astropathic communication is sketchy at best, and basic misunderstandings lead Astartes to act like initiates." He waved at the tent flap "No, not just you two. All of us. It's pervasive and very subtle... but it's working."

"So, in light of this, Lord Taarn has decided that this squad of enthusiastic little lightning rods should get the feth out of the storm."
He smiled. Brotherly this time, and with a sense of respected camaraderie.

"Besides... Jaak'a is nice and cold."

"And hear i was just getting used to the heat" Taric mused. "When will we be briefed?"

The wizened Apothecary grinned sarcastically "In approximately Twenty Five Hours." He gave the young marines a nod before exiting the tent to tend to his other responsibilities.

Taric pulled out his Data-slate, and began sending a message whilst perusing the environ report. After a brief silence he spoke up. "Brother Ash, I never did get around to asking you about the past year. How fares your chapter? I can see Rehabilitation was successful, It must have been quite the trial."

Atash frowned slightly at the news that they were to be redeployed - it almost felt like they were running away. The frown quickly vanished though as he let out a soft snort of amusement at the Apothecary's reply to Taric's question about briefing. He watched Nikkos leave, then shifted position to sit cross-legged so he could begin examining his damaged augmetic leg more closely. He would have to work fast to get both his augmetics and his armour fully repaired before they were redeployed.

He blinked and looked up at Taric's question, then shrugged. "It certainly took a while to get used to the changes," Atash admitted, absently flexing his augmetic hand. "My time spent training on Lythan helped, though, as short as it was." He straightened up, a hint of pride creeping into his posture and expression. "And I do not believe it is boasting to claim that my Chapter has some of the best Apothecaries in the sector, if not the entire Imperium."

He relaxed again and began carefully prodding at a section of his leg, trying to ascertain how far the damage went. "As for my Chapter... we are doing as well as can be expected, given our circumstances. The Chryos Twelfth are currently helping us in constructing outposts on the planet Zieth. We owe Chryos much for their assistance."

In the swirling aetherial void, a small yet determined minion of the great god Tzeentch lurked. It lurked and hunted around the thin fabric of reality that existed around Xyyyyyathkhabhath. The frail, foolish mortals called it 'Kiln', or some other near unpronounceable human word.

The daemon watched and waited. And after months of Terran time it had found a particularly weak spot in the wall of space and time. It shifted and stetched of course, but it was centered on a... what was the sound of the word? Thant? Tent? Yes. Tent.

A medical tent, where frail, pathetic mortal lay around unsure if they would die or not. The daemon cursed. Such lack of commitment disgusted it.

Eventually, after much waiting and cursing, the veil thinned enough for it to strike! It would pounce out, rip a useless mortal spark from existence and claim its fleshy husk as its own. Its own meat carriage to take it around the mortal realm! It would have SUCH fun! And now, its moment was before it.

A weakened human warrior, dehydrated from the environment (how did these poorly designed bone puppets even survive at all?) lay weak upon a tent.

No, not a tent... baed. Behed? Bed. BED! Yes. That thing. It laid upon that.

But now it was time. Now the daemon would burst forth and control this host! The vile creature summoned it's meager power and poured all its hate, cunning, and energy into possessing the mortal. As the daemon transformed into a possessing spirit, a singular beam of malice and mischief, a large shiny sphere suddenly appeared between it and its prey.

--------------------------------------

The calm respite of the medical tent was broken when an attending medico servo-skull three beds over suddenly let out a binary squawk. It shuddered and expelled lubricant onto the floor, then spun in ever increasing circles towards the roof. It shot across the room, bounced off a pole and clattered to the floor. It jittered and bounced, chittered, sparked, and rattled it's way into a chamber-pot under a far bed. From there it settled into an distressed hollow beeping sequence that made no sense at all.

It was eventually kicked outside by an irritated orderly. Where it could be faintly heard sputtering to itself.

"I know some that might challenge you on that" Taric said with a smile "But with the evidence before me, ill give the Shadowed Sons the benefit of proof."

Taric stepped back as an overtaxed orderly stormed out of the operating theater, storming right past the Astarte's. A sudden tensing of the shoulders subtly gave away when the Orderly noticed who she had just stormed past, but to her benefit she maintained her disgruntled swagger, swiftly booting something metallic, as she exited the tent with swift purpose.

"Chryos has been mobilizing a significant portion of their forces in recent years, The new Planetary Governor 'Mackintor' is being proactive in the systems defense. The first Governor in over a millennium who has realized that the Chryos Gate stands stronger when it stands united as a system, and more over, a sector. My own brothers work to bolster the sector where Chryos is unable to." As he spoke, Taric absently retrieved the metallic object from near the tent flap.

"I served against an uprising in the Cadella system this past year. It was a powerful thing to be among my Chapter as a Full brother for the first time..." Taric took on a reminiscent tone, his hands working away, tearing small chrome segments from the defective servo skull. "Did you feel the same with the Suns?"

Atash chuckled quietly. "As you should. I am, after all, living proof of their skills - emphasis on living." He sobered then, hesitating, but before he could say what was on his mind, the irate orderly stormed past. Atash watched with bemusement as the orderly briefly paused before continuing on and exiting the tent, and the moment was lost.

He eyed the defective servo skull curiously as Taric retrieved it and began pulling pieces off it, part of his mind silently wondering if it was merely the heat that had made it short out, or if the planet's miasma had somehow affected it as well. Taric's words had most of his attention though, and the question made Atash blink, then give a lopsided shrug. "I have not had the opportunity to deploy alongside any of the rest of my Chapter, what little there is of it," he admitted ruefully. "The entirety of my actual deployments have been with Squad Asterozoa, and I do not see that changing any time soon."

Taric was surprised. "Truly?..." Implications ran thru the Blood Ravens mind, and he silently stowed the damaged Skull.

Taric lay down upon the pallet assigned to him, And tapped out a missive on his Datapad. After a few minuets he passed the Dataslate to Brother Atash.

He muttered quietly to Atash "I still trust nothing of this place, however since we may well be hear a while, We may as well have our war-gear on hand." As the Librarian took the Data-slate he said a little louder "I've included orders for Apothecary Gideon help Check up on your Augmetics. And, if you wish it, Consult about the leg. I figure you will wish to personally repair it, So I've added a request for your tools. If it all looks in order, Send it thru to Vortali."

The green tinted dataslate had a missive listed to be send to the Astarte's Communications officer, Brother Vortali.
#message begins#

Brother Vortali, please forward the following message to the members of Squad Asterozoa other than Atash...

++ Members of Squad Asterozoa to report to Brother Taric in the Infirmary as soon as individually convenient. Orders for our next assignment are in. ETA to mobilisation, 31 hours past Date of Message. Taric and Atash shall remain in the Infirmary for 24 hours. Expect official brief in 25.++

..the following to Brother Rainor..

+Request for servitors to deliver Brother Atash's Toolkit aswell as Brothers Atash and Taric's Power Armour to the Infirmiry. +

..And a final message for Apothecary Gideon.

+Request consultation on Brother Atash's Cybernetic prosthetics in the Infirmary. Faults found due to Lingering damage from most recent Deployment.+

Gratitude Brother Vortali

#Missive Ends#

As Atash perused the message Taric asked curiously "..So how much battle had you seen before Sothis? As a neophyte and before you chapter found you i mean...?"

Atash nodded at Taric's surprise. "Truly. My recovery and rehabilitation took about three months - I couldn't deploy anywhere with anyone during that, obviously! - and once I was fully functional again I shipped off to Lythan for my initial Techmarine training. When Lord Taarn put out the call to reform the squad, I came straight from there."

He watched Taric curiously as the Blood Raven lay down and began typing, then accepted the dataslate when Taric handed it over. He nodded silent agreement with Taric's statements, his eyes skimming over the text on the screen. "Looks good to me," he commented once he'd finished reading, forwarding the message on to Vortali. "I just hope the medics do not get too annoyed at us for working on our gear in here."

Atash handed the dataslate back to Taric once he was done, then shrugged at his questions. "Not as much as I probably should have," he admitted wryly. "I was not 'found' by my chapter - I was born aboard the Aten, and recruited from there. I have spent almost my entire life aboard that ship." He absently ran one hand through his hair. "Before Sothis, the only other time I had been planetside was on Zieth, during my late scout training, and even then it was mostly as Landspeeder crew, running scouting and patrol. That damned blizzard-choked iceball was far too cold for us to be doing much on foot without full power armour. As for actual combat..."

He shrugged, his gaze dropping back to his damaged leg as he traced a fracture line in the metal with one finger. "I was involved in a few skirmishes against Tyranids on Zieth, mostly shooting at them from the Landspeeder. I have also participated in defending the Aten from... boarders... several times throughout my life, though never in the front lines, only as support to either the Spireguard or my battle-brothers." He looked back up at Taric, his expression curious. "How about you?"

Taric nodded gravely at the mention of 'Borders'. He had heard of the Suns Oddesy, cast adrift in warp storms, cast out of time.
All voidfarers knew stories of the monsters that lurked in the warps depths, kept at bay by the Gellar Fields. Ships unlucky enough to have a breech in those fields would find themselves under assault. Older ships often carried myths around the Legend of such assaults. Astarte ships more than most, if only by dint of most often surviving at least the lesser incursions.

Of corse Tarik now knew the truth of them, and it was far worse than any myth, but he could not talk of it. The Blood Raven checked his Data-slate. Not yet.

As Atash continued, speaking of his experience on Zieth, Taric listened, grunting in disgust at the mention of the Vile Tyranids. After repressing the memory's of the Invasion of his home planet, Taric lifted his head in realization. When the Blood Raven and Shadowed Sun had met, Atash was barely a Cadet. Suddenly past experiences, fumbles and victories were cast in a new light.

He attempted to repress the mirth that boiled up from within, but the more he thought about the context of their first mission, the more it built up, until at last he let out a great laugh. "It was your Baptism!"

Stifling his mirth he finally explained himself. "So Sothis was your first True Battle as an Astarte? Your Baptism of Fire. Forgive my mirth brother, looking back on our experiences with the context of this knowledge both amusing and incredibly impressive. I had not known you were so.. Fresh, especially to acting so independently."

The Blood Raven raised a hand in apology "We were all neophytes, but I had a Decade of deployment experience before we met, even if only some Half a dozen of those years involved actual battlefields. That is the case for Most Codex Chapters, most neophytes go several decades before earning their Carapace. I was proud to have earned my own in such a short time, but You! I understand you chapter is rebuilding, but even so, you Elevation was completely warranted, you are the equal of Myself, and Lance, in skill, Even with half the experience."

Taric sobered a little "War has been a part of my life since its beginning, even as a Child my village was always under threat from raiders or Ork primitives. I had simply assumed it was the same with the rest of you..."

Taric lay down on his pallet, opposing Atashes own, and asked in earnest. "Tell me what it was like. Peace. Life without war, Before your chapter? And after, I will tell you of mine."

Brother Lance lumbered through the tent flap of the make-shift apothecarium. Dressed in his old scout attire, dusty from recent field use.

"It was quiet and peaceful." he growled, casually joining the conversation as if he'd always been there. "I spent my days on my fathers boat. Fishing, hauling, cleaning, and preparing the days catch for sale that evening."

He moved around the tent and started searching through the medical cabinets. There was blood spattered across his chest plate.
"Then my family would enjoy evenings of wine, singing, and games of strategem under the night sky." He scooped up several bandages and medi-cement. "I was the eldest. Going to inherit the family business. Even had nice girl lined up for marriage."
He rooted around in the emergency satchels... his actions were sloppy, delayed. As if he was a half second behind himself.
"Of course I was only twelve at the time. So wasn't expecting any of that to happen for six years or so." He stopped and narrowed his eyes for a moment.
"Jyrreline. Her name was Jyrreline."
He stood up, having found an Astartes detox pack and venom suppressant.
"Then late one summer I was suddenly swept up into all this foolishness..." he gestured around the tent."... and now I'm here. On a tainted dust-ball, in charge of some eager-to-die-mortals..." he pinched his nose "...and half drunk on some bloody feth-spawned lizard poison."
He shook his head and strode outside again, leaning a bit to the left.
"For the Emperor." he snarled bitterly as he disappeared into the heat.

Taric's great laugh caught Atash by surprise, and his initial reaction was to glower at the mirthful Blood Raven, his muscles tensing as his hands flexed briefly into fists. He had to forcibly remind himself to remain calm - which became much easier once Taric actually got around to explaining the reason for his mirth.

Atash relaxed again and smiled sheepishly at Taric's comment about their elevation. "I almost envy your many years as a neophyte," he admitted. "I did not like coming across as so... inexperienced." He shrugged. "I am just glad that I was able to have my black carapace implanted at all, especially since I have not even reached my second decade of life yet." He smiled lopsidedly. "Again, my chapter's Apothecaries prove their worth."

He paused to consider how to reply to Taric's question about his youth, but before he could say anything, Lance lumbered into the medical tent. Atash listened and watched with bemusement as Lance moved around, describing his own youth, then staggered out of the tent again. Atash stared at the still-swinging tent flap for a long moment, then looked back at Taric, his train of thought completely derailed. "Lizard poison?" he asked eventually. "Do we even want to know?"