[Epic] Fluff (Kelly's part ii) LONG !

From: Oki Purwanto <oki_at_...>
Date: Wed, 13 Aug 1997 21:38:19 +0800

More of Kelly's fluff.
Apologies, if some might not like the taking up of bandwidth.

Regards
Oki



PART II (This partitioning is done by me, as I am afraid the whole story
might not get through in one long mail)


The Hermit apparently misunderstood him, though, for he didn't proclaim he
was a Space Marine. Instead, he kneeled in front of the frightened boy, and
said, "My name is Gideon. I've not said that in four hundred years, to keep
it secret. Now it matters not. You, Zeke, you are my friend. And you have
not judged me as _they_ would. For this, I tell you my name."

"But why... what's going... what's happening?" Zeke stammered.

"You are Innocent, and shall remain so," Gideon responded. "They shall not
have cause to doubt you. You must persevere in your worship of the Emperor,
for that is the Truth of today. I am still living in the past; _you_ are
Humanity's future. Worship him with all your heart!"

Suddenly throwing himself to his feet, Gideon ran about the room, pushing
buttons and adjusting controls. Zeke had never seen most of them before, and
guessed they were revealed by the opening of the Emperor's shrine. Now
phosphor screens glowed into life and multi-colored lights flashed for
attention. First dark was just falling outside, but the screens were able to
compensate for it somehow. To Zeke's eyes it looked like full daytime.

On those screens, figures could be seen moving to and fro. Whatever ability
the monitors had to make dark like day also removed all color from what it
showed. Thus the men appeared like nightmare visions, with glowing eyes and
dark visages. Silently they crept about the hut, at least a score or more of
them, toting menacing weapons in their dark-clad hands. With a start, Zeke
recognized them as Space Marines in power armor, but the insignia on their
shoulders -- what should have told him who they were -- was obscured by the
fuzzy view on the monitors. Not that he could have known them by sight:
there were over a thousand Chapters of Marines, and he had pictures of only
a few.

But they were Space Marines! That alone was amazing enough for one boy.

It was still more amazing when Gideon reached up with one armored fist, and
tore off his tattered robe, revealing a full suit of power armor. Black as
night it was, with a winged sword emblazoned on his left shoulder. For a
moment as the screens flickered on his form, he looked impossible to defeat:
an impregnable fortress of a man, invincible. Then Zeke looked at his face
again, and saw that defeat was already there; but Gideon had learned to live
with his shame for so long that he had no choice but to keep on fighting.

Moving rapidly now, Gideon scooped up his enormous gun in one hand, the
other taking up his helmet from a wall sconce. He settled it over his head,
locking it onto his armor with a click and a hiss of atmosphere. In the dim
and shifting light of the screens, Zeke could tell little about the Space
Marine's armor except that it was worn with use. Obviously well-cared for,
it nonetheless showed gouges and scars of numberless battles. To Zeke's
wondering gaze, it was the epitome of power and strength...and black as an
abyss.

His helmet secured, Gideon's free hand next turned to Zeke, guiding the boy
to a back room in the house. Here he activated another monitor, saying, "I
cannot guarantee your safety, young charge, but you have the better of your
chances by remaining where I leave you." The Marine's voice was masked by
electronic sound, as though it emanated from deep inside his armor. "This is
as safe and strong a room as any you'll find in the Governor's palace, or
that offensive bastion of cruelty Castra Exercitus, and it is well-shielded.
They should not find you if you do not leave this place before they go. On
your _life_, do not follow me out into the night."

Rising, he stalked to the door, heavy tread thumping on the floor. Raising
his hand to another control panel, he paused, cast a last look at the
crouching boy. "Good-bye, Zeke. May the Emperor guide you."

With a flick of a button, solid doors slammed into place surrounding Zeke,
sealing him inside a hardened cube of protection. Instantly, new lighting
faded up, and a small viewscreen flickered into life, showing one of the
scenes from outside. Another panel was marked with legible runes, detailing
how to remove the barriers. Other runes changed the scene the monitor
showed. Cycling through the views, Zeke hunted for his friend.

Gideon had returned to his front room. There he stood, also watching events
transpire outside. From his stance, he expected trouble soon, and Zeke could
see that the surrounding cordon of power armored troops was almost complete.
In total silence, they crept from cover to cover, inching closer to the hut.
The small boy instinctively knew that they did this not out of fear of being
shot, but to prevent their detection by Gideon.

Suddenly, he realized who the Marine meant when he said "they." Somehow, for
some mysterious reason, other Space Marines were hunting for Gideon. But as
for why? Zeke had no idea.

Silently, he watched his screen.

The other Marines were in position, and Gideon was apparently about to make
a move of his own, when something unexpected happened. From out of the
night, behind the cordoning Space Marines, vehicles suddenly roared in from
the surrounding darkness. Bright searchlights flared into life, momentarily
causing the screen to blank out as it struggled to compensate for the
brilliance. Playing all around, they illuminated the stalking figures of the
Marines, as well as showing dozens of Adeptus Arbites troops pouring out of
the vehicles. To Zeke's eyes they were tanks, and he felt strangely glad to
see the Warriors of Justice. The other Marines were an unknown menace, but
everyone knew the Arbitrators were incorruptible.

From the top of one of the tanks a tall figure in dark robes rose up. His
voice carried too far for a mere throat, and it echoed as it was amplified
through the tank. "Hail the Emperor!" he cried. "In service of the Emperor,
I hail thee as well, Dark Angels! But I, the Lord Marshal, Judge Salzbry
order you to cease your operations here! This is my jurisdiction, and no
unauthorized activities will be permitted! My Precinct demands no less of
me! Return to your ship, and I will take no action! Oppose me at your peril!"

Around him, his Arbitrators continued falling into positions of defense,
seeking shelter behind their armored vehicles, aiming their weapons at the
revealed Dark Angels. Dust kicked up by the arrival of the tanks swirled
thickly in the searchlight beams, creating weird shapes that floated and
flowed, then were gone. For several long moments, silence prevailed; no one
moved.

Then an equally imposing figure, clad in bone-white armor -- a different
armor than the others, this was bulkier, huge! -- strode out in front of the
Judge. With a smooth movement of his arm, he lifted his helmet from his
head, revealing a white-haired visage of indeterminate age. From the view on
his screens, Zeke saw only that he looked as stern and unyielding as the Judge.

"And I say to you, Lord Marshal," he bellowed, almost as loudly as the
Judge's amplified voice, "that the Dark Angels answer to no man! This raid
is our business, and you need not have worry for your Precinct! Only the
heretic we hunt must fear us! But your part in this is done, and you will go
or die! Go, now!"

The Judge was not a man to be cowed, though. Staring implacably at his
opponent, he pitched his voice to carry only to him. "I know you," he said,
"I recognize your armor's markings. You are Deathwing, a Master I suspect.
What do you here? Tell me, and earn my blessing, and thereby the Emperor's
as well."

At the mention of the Emperor, the Space Marine took a step towards Salzbry.
Controlling himself with an effort, he responded, "The Emperor's blessing is
not yours to give, Marshal. Our Chaplain has already annointed our weapons
and our cause; you can give only offense. I say again, leave now, or you
will die." Turning his back on the Judge and his tank, the Deathwing slapped
his helmet on -- the eyes lit up with electronic life as it clicked into
place -- and strode forward to the hut.

In the full glare of the spotlights, he hammered with his fist on the door.
Zeke could hear the strength of it even in his tiny room. "Gideon, we have
come for you! Give yourself to us, so that we may heal you and ourselves."

Inside, Gideon didn't move. After waiting ten heartbeats, the Deathwing
Marine spun away and marched back to his troops. Drawing his sword, its
blade crackling and spitting with suffused energy, he raised it high,
shouting, "Dark Angels, take the heretic!"

As of one mind, the Space Marines surged forward, boltguns barking angry
fire in their hands. The sudden noise exploded against the screen's
speakers, at the same time beating harshly through the very walls of the
house. Zeke cycled wildly through his available views, trying to see what
was happening, but all was bright flashes and murky dust. Inside, Gideon
stood rock still, not even swaying as the floor bucked under the firepower.

Unseen by Zeke, though, the Judge had retreated inside his tank. With an
unheard command, he sent his Arbitrators after the Space Marines. The tanks
-- there were only three of them, Zeke realized, though there had seemed
more at first -- spat blossoms of fire as their guns sought out the Dark
Angels. New explosions ripped at the rear of the Marines' positions, forcing
them to turn and face this threat. With fluid precision, half of the elite
soldiers continued advancing while the rest returned fire against the
Adeptus Arbites troopers.

Suddenly, the chaos of full battle was everywhere. Two staunch supporters of
the Imperium were destroying each other over one lone man, in front of
Zeke's very eyes. The concussion of explosions sent flakes dancing from the
ceiling, shook the viewscreen into a blur, and made the boy press his hands
hard against his ears. The monitor fought to show the night as day, but
bolter fire and muzzle flashes made it a losing battle.

Similarly, the Arbitrators fought a hopeless fight as well. Outclassed in
every way -- in armor protection, in weaponry -- they were forced back by a
mere handful of Space Marines. The Arbitrators' guns seemed to have little
or no effect on the tough power armor the Marines wore. Though they easily
outnumbered the Dark Angels, there were far more Adeptus troopers lying dead
or dying on the ground after only a few minutes of fighting than there were
Marine casualties. A horrendous explosion signified the destruction of one
of their tanks, and the others began to back away in response.

Gideon still stood unmoving, but now his attitude conveyed one of waiting,
of tense expectancy. His screens showed a combat squad of Dark Angels
converging on one wall, moving carefully but fearlessly. As one placed a
rock-like device against the outside of the building, Gideon moved quickly
to the same inside wall. Triggering a grenade with one hand, he punched a
hole in the masonry with the other, then flipped the bomb into it before
throwing himself into the far corner. Zeke felt the resulting explosion in
his bones, and saw that a gaping wound had been opened in the wall. He
cycled his screen to show him more, and found that the Marine who had placed
the grenade outside had been caught in the blast; Gideon's attack had caused
the other grenade to go off too, killing two other Marines.

Without hesitation, Gideon launched himself through the hole, spewing bolter
fire in all directions. Zeke tried to follow his movements through the
battle-filled night, but more and more of his viewsources were being ripped
apart by stray shots and explosions. The Arbites were still fighting, only
now it was a withdrawing action, as they desperately tried to escape the
superior firepower of the Dark Angels. Two tanks, now, were blazing in the
darkness, adding their own flickering shadows
to the chaotic events outside.

With a glimmer of hope, Zeke realized that the Dark Angels had not seen
Gideon's escape. The Deathwing commander still sent his men after both
Arbitrators and Gideon, and didn't know his quarry was gone. Zeke watched as
the soldier's glowing sword slashed into the last tank, and thought he saw
the Judge's robed form inside. But all was lost as that viewsource drowned
in static as it was destroyed.

Mere minutes had elasped since the first firing, but already it began to die
down. With a resounding boom, the front door was blown from its frame. Zeke
watched in fascinated horror as half a dozen Dark Angels burst in, spraying
boltgun fire everywhere. When they saw the room was empty, their stance
relaxed, and information was relayed. The Deathwing commander -- Zeke could
almost read a name scribed onto his armor...Lucius, perhaps -- strode in,
surveying the scene.

With a gesture that spoke of long years of service, he bowed on one knee to
the shrine of the Emperor, then cast his glance about the room. His manner
was unreadable behind his implacable helmet, but his stance showed his anger.

"The heretic Gideon is not here, Brother-Captain," reported one of the
dark-armored Marines.

"He has eluded us after all," responded the Captain.

"Perhaps he was never here," offered the trooper. "This shrine is hardly the
evidence of a pariah."

"Be silent, Brother Zachariah!" Lucius ordered, swinging his bulk to face
the man. "Yours is not to question. Our orders come from Commander Azrael
himself. Gideon was here, that is all that matters."

"Apologies, Brother-Captain," murmured Zachariah. "I was not questioning our
mission. I live to serve the Emperor. His enemies are my enemies. That is
all I need to know."

Lucius stared anger a moment longer, then reached up and removed his helmet.
His iron-jawed face grimaced in vexation. "Apology accepted. The Emperor
knows this has not been an easy mission. Rumors of the heretic Gideon were
so new and uncertain that even Brother-Chaplain Pluvius doubted their
veracity. To have come so close and still miss him... it is a grave stain on
our Chapter's honor."

"Brother-Captain," the trooper began, tentatively, "would not this mission
have been better served had we enlisted the assistance of the Arbitrators?"

Lucius whirled on Zachariah, a penetrating glare of righteous anger flaring
from his gray eyes. "All Marines, clear the room!" he thundered. "Zachariah,
you will do penance! You are obviously still an untrained scout, judging by
your behavior before the Emperor's shrine!" After the other soldiers had
filed out the room, Lucius continued in a more moderate tone. "Are you not a
Dark Angel? Have not the Chaplains told you in their sermons that it is our
sacred duty to root out certain heretics? The Grand Master himself orders us
to find this man, this Gideon, and _you_ would question the wisdom of his
orders? I am Deathwing; I see deeper into mysteries than you do now. I know
what we do is just, and the Emperor's righteous fury shines through my
devotion! On my faith, you will not speak your doubts
aloud again, or you shall grace this miserable planet with your bones!"

Trembling with suppressed emotion, Zachariah bowed his head, his helmet
revealing nothing.

"Brother-Sergeant!" Lucius bellowed, not taking his eyes from Zachariah.

Instantly, another Marine appeared in the doorway. "Yes, Brother-Captain?"

"How many of the Adeptus Arbites men are still alive?"

The sergeant didn't hesitate. "Roughly thirty, sir."

Turning away from the berated trooper, Lucius faced the sergeant. "Leave no
survivors, Brother-Sergeant." With practiced ease, he slipped his helmet
back on. "All knowledge of this event must be erased from man's reckoning.
Take half your men and dispatch the troopers. They die for the good of the
Imperium. Send the other half out in a search for the apostate. Our faith
shall guide us in our holy cause. By the Emperor's blood, we shall have him!"

Amidst a frenzy of shouted commands and distant bolter fire, the three men
left the house.

In his small protective cubicle, young Zeke began to cry.

THE END

(c) Copyright 1997 by Kelly C. L'Roy. Many terms used in this story (such as
Space Marine, Adeptus Arbites, and others) are Trademarks of Games Workshop,
Inc. Their use here is not intended as a challenge to said trademarks. I
couldn't have written the story without using them so please don't sue me!
Also you may
distribute this story freely by any means, so long as due credit is given to
the author. And if you do put it up somewhere, please let me know, just so I
know
someone liked it out there.


The views and opinions expressed in this page are strictly those of the page
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University of Minnesota.
Received on Wed Aug 13 1997 - 13:38:19 UTC