# The Unsung War



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

CHAPTERS
1: Memories
2: MkVI
3: Herodia IV
4: Strictly Business
5: Seven-Six-Two
6: Settling In
7: Uniforms?
8: The Plan
9: Breaking Cover
10: The Storm
11: Survival
12: Double E
13: Debrief
14: Windup Toys
15: Heroes

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

INQUISITIORIAL SECURITY OFFICE (ISO)
Anya Vostok (Anya-243): ISO Operative, Assassin
Maxim Petrov (Max-167): ISO Operative, Weapons Specialist
Danal Harken: Inquisitor Primus, Inquisitorial Security Office
Samuel Kurge: ISO Acolyte
Derrick Admas: ISO tech-priest, medicae
Cooper: ISO Stormtrooper

101ST CADIAN
Robert Connor: Colonel, 101st Cadian
Aaron Smith: Sergeant, 101st Cadian

HERODIA IV
High Lord Frederic Pruitte
Lord Damien Fletcher

ORDO GLADIUS
High Inquisitor Dominic Santiago: Master, Inquisitorial Court
Underinquisitor Johnothan Stuart: Member, Inquisitorial Court
Inquisitor Arcia Parks: Representative to the ISO, Inquisitorial Court
------------------------------------
MEMORIES
Mimas, Sol System, Twenty two years previously

I can't see.

The blackness recedes from my vision. Zernov hauls me upright.

"Girl! Get up!" he yells. I stand and stumble out of the crater the mole-mine left, my armor smoldering. The suit is unpainted, steel grey Mark III SPAR armor. I was sixteen when they found me in Port Rostock, told me that I could be great. And I was. Second best in the program, and Anton got killed the year I graduated.

My weapon, a cut-down LAR-15, is in my grip. I raise the weapon and squeeze off a burst, catching the leading drone in the chest.

Zernov fires the grenade launcher attached to his LAR. The explosion blows two more to dust.

A quick burst and the last attacker falls in a heap. 

The lights in the facility go up, a massive cavern in Mimas' central reaches. 

"Nice work 243." said the speakers. I nod slowly, reloading. A man in a grey coverall walks from a concealed doorway. 

"Excellent work. I saw that last one. Your aim is improving." he says. 

"Yes sir. Thank you sir." I reply. I throw the LAR's strap over my shoulder, following him and Zernov out of the cavern.

We walk down a metal-shod hallway, passing armed guards and filing into a room with a screen set against the wall. Zernov and the man stand to either side of the doorway, while I stand in the center of the room. The screen shows a rotating I icon, and this vanishes as the ISO chief's head appears on screen.

"Good to see you, girl." he says happily.

"How do you know I'm me?" I ask. "I could be any ISO Op in armor."

The director smiles. "You hold youself differently. It's the pistols, I think. And you're the reason I was called to a meeting."

I look at my waist, where twin wooden-handled plasma pistols are hung low on a belt. He's right. I stand straighter out of habit.

"Now then 243, I was informed today that you have passed your final examination."

"It's true sir." the man in coveralls chimes in.

"Well then, I hereby promote you to Operative 243, Anya. Congratulations. Now then, I have to get back to the Inquisitorial Court. Good luck, 243."

I snap off a crisp salute.

"Thank you, sir."

The screen goes blank.

The man in coveralls turns to me, and I notice Zernov has left the room.

"Now you've got some choices to make. Firstly, armory or paint shop first?"

"Armory." I say immediately.

"Like a true ISO Op." says the man. He leads me down a corridor I've never been down, lit by red darklights.

A man chewing on the end of an unlit cigar opens the meter-thick door to the ISO armory. I walk inside and stare at the treasure trove. LARs and HARs are stacked in heaps. Grenades by the dozen populate boxes. Armor snap-ons and webbing hangs on clips attached to the walls. In the far corner a rocket launcher is propped against a plasma cannon.

I reluctantly give the armorer my battered training LAR-15, and he hands me a shiny HAR-45. I pull a grenade launcher from the box and snap it to the bottom, next to a flashlight. My next stop is the grenades. I take a half-dozen frag and krak grenades and a fat melta bomb from the stacks.

The armorer hands me a set of holotags. ANYA-243 is marked on one, the other has the insignia of the Inquisitorial Surveillance Office, the assassinorium's inquisition branch. I attach them to my belt and he shakes my hand, and we leave the armory, heading down the hall to a color-splattered doorway.

A man in spatterpainted white overalls greets me, pointing to a circular room with every color imaginable splattered on the inside. I step into the room, and he cocks his head in question, holding up a palatte of colors. I point, and the sprayers turn on, a fat panel covering my visor so it doesn't get painted on. A layer of pure white paint is layered on, then 243 is stenciled to my shoulderpad. The room opens like a flower's petals, and the plate retracts to the ceiling, blowers descending to dry it in seconds.

The man pulls a pair of thick goggles off and shakes my hand too. "Congrats." he says. I nod.

The grey-coveralled man beckons, and I step into the elevator to go up to the surface of Mimas, then to the ISO barracks on Io. 

-----------------------------------
En route to Heronia IV, Present Day


"Anya? Ani? You in there?" 

I open my eyes.

Max is standing over me, already in full armor. I pull the blankets over my chest hurridly.

"How long have you been-" I start, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"A minute or two. Get suited up. We just jumped in-system. We'll be there in two hours." he says calmly.

I sit up, holding the blankets to my chest, and turn to look at the battered suit of Mark III armor on the wall. The white paint has turned to a light grey, and pockmarks and scratches cover the suit. I look at Max pointedly, and he shrugs and leaves, closing the door behind him. I pull the black undersuit for the armor from beneath the bed, pulling it on, followed by the plates of my armor. It's been so long since I got the suit it's more like a second skin then a suit of armor.

I attach my HAR-45 to the backplate of the suit and step into the atrium of the decrepit cargo hauler Max commandeered for the trip. We would leave it in orbit once we got to Heronia. Max is in the hold, picking at a patch of rust on the shuttle's flank.

"Ready to go, Ani?" he asks. I nod slowly. Always ready.


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Well, once again, I got shafted on flight timing, so here you go!
--------------------------------------------------------------

MKIV
High Orbit, Heronia IV, Day 1, 1230 hours

I stood in the cargo hold as Inquisitor Harken strode down the ramp of his dropship. He nodded to me, and I threw a salute up as his retinue marched past. Max dropped down from the shuttle's bay doors and shook the Inquisitor's hand. 

"Good to see you here, sir." said Max. Harken nodded and gave us a warm smile.

"You too, Max. Anya, you're looking good, although that's the armor."

"Yes sir." I replied. 

He looked around the hold, taking in the loose wiring and jury-rigged nature of the ship.

"Nice place. What'd you pay?"

"Freebie, sir."

Harken chuckled and pointed at the dropship. His retinue climbed into the sturdy shuttle. I gathered up the rest of Max's and my gear and stowed it in two big footlockers, stacking them in the bay too.

"My team for this one is you, Max, Derrick, Cooper, and Sam. You guys know each other, right?"

"Uh...your scribe, tech, and guard, right?" asked Max. Harken nodded.

"We know them." I said. "Good times back on Desolatia. Derrick still a tarot player?"

"Oh, he remembers you, sweetheart. He still owes you from that campaign." said Harken. 

"Now, the real reason I'm not dropping from the _Razor's Edge_." said Harken. He pointed to a straining crewman from his shuttle, who dropped a large crate before turning back into the shuttle.

"You drop that again, I'll have you hunting for landmines! With a _hammer_!" yelled Harken. The man slouched in apology and walked into the ship.

I pried the lid off the nearest box, finding a large, white plate inside.

"Is- Is this what I think it is?" I asked, slightly in awe. I picked up a white-clad helmet, it's wide visor reflecting my own.

"Oh yes. Mark VI SPAR armor. Just came up from Mondus Gamma two days ago."

Max leaned over the crate, pulling out a plate of armor with the cobalt blue color he favored.

"Wow, sir. It's like Emperor's Day all over again." he said. 

We quickly pulled the box apart, swapping out the battered Mark III suits for the new versions. I snapped my old clip-ons to the new armor, finding to my pleasure they still fit on the new components.

"Glad you like it, soldier." said Harken. I nodded. The new HUD flashed into life before my eyes, disorienting me for a moment before the helmet systems compensated. I pulled my webbing and belts on, making sure my twin pistols were safe. The wooden stocks had worn to the shape of my hands over the years, and I had pledged to never get rid of them. I slipped a combat knife into a convenient holster on the Mark V's chestplate.

We stepped into the dropship, Max sliding past the inqusitor's retinue to sit at the controls.

"You got it together?" I asked, taking my usual place by the cockpit door. 

"You know it, Ani." he said smoothly. "I can land a dirt-crate like this no problem."

"Good." I said, cocking the HAR. Even if this place was peaceful so far, I never took chances. None of the ISO operatives did. Anton had, at one point. They sent us his head. After that, we decided to stay down and shoot first.

The ship lurched as it's landing skids left the hold, and the cargo hauler flipped away in orbit as our shuttle bounced through the atmosphere of Heronia IV.


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Very nice start Dirge, good work!


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Well, I finally got up after a half hour delay, eating dinner as I write. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, corn, and brownies. Good times.
--------------------------------------------------------------

HERONIA IV
Descending Orbit, Day 1, 1300 hours

"Ah, Ani. I missed that horrid scratching sound of your voice on my eardrums."

I smiled warmly under my helmet. Sam and I always had an... interesting relationship.

"You're still just angry I killed more things on Desolatia than you." I said smoothly. He smiled.

"Nah. I'm just angry I never saw below that suit." he chuckled.

"Max has. Ask him about it sometime. Maybe he can give you some pics or something."

Derrick was across the hold from me, checking our flight path on a dataslate.

"You're looking well. No wounds, scars that I can see." he said. His optics whirred as they focused.

"New armor." I said, tapping the breastplate of the Mark VI. He nodded.

"I see. Semi-Powered Assault, Recon variant. The newest version, too."

"So, you have fifty creds plus nine years interest?" I asked the tech adept offhandedly. He tapped his thin robes, making clunking noises as his augmetics hit each other.

"Sorry. Left my bank statement in my other robes." he said.

Harken got up from speaking with Max in the cockpit, and stood in the center of the hold, a holomap blossoming in his hands.

"Alright team, Heronia IV. Peaceful, sound world. Recently paid 150% of the required Guard and Administratum tithes. All in all, very nice place." he began. Cooper raised his hand.

"Then why are we here sir? And why did you feel the need to bring heavy armor along?"

He gestured at me, then at the cockpit door.

"Well, there's been whispers of a cult intrusion in the higher levels of the planet's rulers. High Lord Pruitte is accused of several counts of Grand Heresy, and his underling, Lord Fletcher, is accused of being an active member of a Chaos cult, here on Herodia."

"What's the nature of the cult, sir?" I asked.

"Good question. Our recent intel points to either Tzeentch or Slaanesh, although given the rulers' disposition, Slaanesh seems more likely."

"Very good sir."

"Now then. We'll be landing at Ross Field Spaceport. Anya, Max, I want you out of those suits for the time being. Here."

He threw me a pile of clothes and a set of dogtags marking me as Anya Cirov, a refugee from the Cadian system.

I changed in the arms locker at the shuttle's rear, and then took the controls from Max as he swapped too. We packed our armor into a nondescript footlocker with the Cadian Guard logo on it, and listened as the radio crackled to life.

"Inbound unidentified you are in Ross Field airspace. Squawk ident and proceed to pad nine, repeat pad nine."

"Ross Field tower this is Shuttle seven of the _Fredric's Hope_, carrying refugees and mercenaries from the Cadian Gate."

"Copy, seven."

The shuttle bounced slightly as it touched the pad, and our party stepped down the ramp to meet a bored-looking guard with a holstered stubber pistol and a metal detector.

He ran it over Sam, then Cooper, simply waved Derrick past, then Harken, and finally myself and Max. He didn't even bother to scan the footlocker.

We walked through the port, noting the vast amount of refugees and other people, from Herodia and the surrounding systems. Harken finally found the front doors, and we commandeered a groundcar to use.

Derrick stopped the car in front of a seedy looking hotel and bar in downtown Jorian, the planetary capital. We stepped from the car, looking at each other. Harken looked at the sign and smiled.

"Alright. Don't eat anything without a tox strip, don't drink the water, and _do not_ talk to people with less then pants _and_ a shirt on. Oh, and don't accept drinks from women, for you," said Harken, indicating his retinue, then Max. "Or men, for you." he said, indicating me.

We stepped up to the door, noting the CLOSED sign hung from the doorknob. A single guard was standing in the front.

"We're closed." he said.

"And I'm Danal Harken." said Harken. "Can we see tonight's special?"

"We're _closed_." repeated the guard. He reached for a stubber at his waist.

Max leapt forward, grabbing the man by the head and knocking him against the wall. He slumped to the ground.

"Nice move." said Harken, waving us inside.

A few people sat around a circular bar, a small band playing in the corner. Women in various stages of dress walked around, occasionally speaking to the patrons. A single man, extremely fat with a stained white shirt, stood behind the bar, cleaning a glass.

"Hello Parker." said Harken smoothly. He ran a finger along the bar. "I see your staff hasn't improved much."

"Well, what am I going to do. The girls are where the real money in the place is at." he said.

"Now then. Do you have my money?"

"Uh, no. Not that much. Give me three days-" began Parker, a trickle of sweat forming on his brow.

"Listen. I'm a tourist. If I like what I see here, we may stay a while."

Parker looked at Max and I, easily the largest people in the room, and nodded slowly. 

"You're a little well armed for refugees." he commented, looking at the pistols on my belt, and Max's HAR on his back.

"You're a little under armed for a bar owner." I replied.

"Hm. I like you, sweetheart. You need a job? Got some openings..." he asked calmly.

"Look at _my_ eyes, not _her_ chest, fatty." said Harken, pulling the man to face him. 

"Fine. We got rooms at the top floor. Landing platform too. Here's the key. We're even, right?"

Harken took the key. "The depends. Can we count on no riffraff making their way in here?"

"Fine."

"And no trouble from your normal... _assortment_ of women?"

Parker sighed. "Fine."

"And as much food and drink as these two want." he gestured at Max and I. "They don't drink, but they like lots of food and sweet drinks. Properly cooked, please."

Parker grumbled under his breath. "And you'll wipe my debts?"

"Of course."

The fat man rubbed his hands together. "Fine. Deal. You got the top floor to yourselves. I'll get Krystal to move the girls down the street, and I'll keep the gangers and hive trash out of here. Happy?"

Harken smiled. "Was it worth ten thousand creds plus interest, Parker?"

The man sighed. "I'm not sure anymore."

Harken chuckled and led up up the elevator, opening the door.

"Alright. Four rooms. Me, then Derrick and Cooper, then Max and Sam, then Anya."

"Sir. Request to bunk with Max." said. Max seconded. Harken narrowed his eyes.

"Any particular reason? I was going by gender."

"We're going by profession, sir." said Max. "Buddy system too sir."

"Very well. Sam, you're bunking alone. Stow your gear."

As the sun set on Jorien, Derrick, Max, Cooper and I played tarot, while Harken planned the mission to come.


----------



## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

Nice work Dirge!... Can't wait for the next chapter... Men, Anya is so hot!... Hahaha... What's there relationship?... Between her and Max?...


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Anya's an assassin, she's kind of hard to fall in love with. Really they're just partners. A lot of the gangers and normal citizens (Parker, Sam) don't see this, however. Hence the "job offering".

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

STRICTLY BUSINESS
Jorien red-light district, Day 2, 430 hours

I walked down the short alleyway to a plain steel door. I rapped at it three times, and a slit in the door slid open.

"What's the word?" asked a man.

I pointed the barrel of my plasma pistol through the slot. The door opened with indecent haste.

"Sorry ma'am. Didn't see you clearly out there." said the man.

"Just keep it short. My partner's coming shortly. What do you have?"

"Whatever you need, miss. Rifles, machine pistols, anti-armor, explosives, grenades, ammo. Anything else is a special order and will take longer. Don't ask for warships, though."

I nod and hold a credit chip out to the man. "Need equip for a set-piece battle, four people."

"Gotcha. Just a moment." he said, running to the rear of the store. "Harken, right?"

"You got it."

He nodded and pulled two crates from the back, each newly unopened, with a guard regimental crest on the side.

"99th came through a while back. They left some stuff behind. Have fun with it." he said simply, holding out a hand for the creds. "Six thousand."

"Five."

"Five Seventy Five."

"Five Thirty. Take it or leave it."

The man sighed. "Fine."

I hauled the crates to the street, noting with some discomfort that the streetlights weren't working this far out in the city. The arms merchant Harken had specified lived in a rather seedy section of the city known as "Deadman's Court" because of the number of murders and robberies in the area. I sat on the crate, spinning one of my pistols on the crate's top.

"So I was saying to Harry, I told him, I said, you can't ditch your shit at my pad and expect me to do shit with it." said a voice. A group of men, the oldest about twenty-five, walked around the corner. I stiffened instantly. My armor, which I had insisted on wearing for the sojourn into the red light district, hummed to battle readiness as it read my adrenaline spike.

"Hey asshole. What the hell you think you doin' on Screamer turf? You better be ready to give some of that shit up, man." said the leading ganger, a tattoo that read "SCREW ARBITES" on his forehead.

I kept the pistol out of sight. "Nice try, but no. Try please next time."

The man's eyes widened. I noticed his pupils were the size of pinpricks. He was obviously high on something, most likely Fury judging by the amount of blood on his knuckles. 

"It's a chick." he said slowly.

"You got kids?" asked the second man, a greasy ponytail pulled back over his scalp.

"Nope. Can't." I replied. "My employers discourage maternity leave, they "fixed" me."

"Oh, good. No child support if we're wrong then." said the third man. 

They began to approach me slowly, hands on knives and a length of chain. I pulled the plasma pistol from the crate and put a shot through the oldest man's forehead, obliterating the tattoo and splattering bones and gore over Ponytail and his friend. Ponytail grabbed my arm before I could get another shot off, and threw me to the ground. He was obviously also on Fury, his strength about equal to my own, even in my armor. The third man scrabbled at my armor, trying to find a quick release or seam to crack it open.

I kicked him, breaking in his ribs and sending him flying. Ponytail turned to follow his trajectory. I butted my helmet against him, crushing his face in. The man toppled over, blood gushing from his shattered nose, and I stomped down hard on his knee, breaking it. I jumped onto the third man's back as he turned to flee, and crushed his organs into his already broken ribs. 

"Sorry. I'm not in the mood this morning." I said smoothly, ignoring his howls of pain. I put a shot through his neck, killing him, and walked back to Ponytail, who was in the alleyway's corner, weeping. 

The pistol flared again, and Ponytail's head exploded in a white-hot fireball.

Max turned the corner in a dark green groundvan, screeching to a halt in front of the crates. He jumped out, running to me.

"I heard the gunshots. Did they hurt you?" he asked.

"Nah. Just a few guys in desperate need of children, apparently." I said.

"Good. Help me with the crates."

"Well, there is one thing."

"What?" he asked again, instantly concerned.

"They were bleeding all over my armor. I've got to clean it tonight."

Max chuckled as he heaved the first crate into the van. I tossed the second after it, and climbed into the car. 

"Sam is checking out the palace today. He'll have a line in on it by tomorrow." said Max. I nodded.

"Good. Did Derrick get the hard lines into the Jorien networks yet? We'll need them for long-range vox."

"Yeah. He was setting up the aerial when I left. Harken's not doing anything right now. Might want to tell him about that group. Then see a preacher."

"Why?"

"Remember that psych class we had to take? Where's the emotional devastation?"

"They didn't get anywhere. And they're dead. Vengeance trumps emotional devastation."

Max laughed. He turned the van onto the street Parker's bar was located on. 

"Alrighty then. We're operational in three hours, tops. Cooper's getting some extra help from a local Guard regiment in case there is a sizable cult, and I'll need to get down to the provosts' office to scan their records on Chaos activity in the subsector. Want to come?"

"I could." I replied. "Gotta eat first. I haven't had breakfast."

Max loaded the crates onto the elevator, and I sat at the bar eating some kind of fired grox for a time, listening to Parker's stories of making it rich and rolling in creds. I took the last drink upstairs with me, walking through the door in my bloodstained armor.

"Max told me what happened. Ganger trash." said Derrick. He put a hand on my shoulder.

"You OK?" he asked.

"I'm fine." I said. "Killed them all."

He smiled, or at least the tech-adept equivalent of a smile. "Good for you. Now, help me with the aerial. I need to get a dish up but it's pretty heavy."

I nodded and hoisted the fat aerial dish out the window and on to a mounting lug. Derrick leaned over me and welded the base to the dish. 

"Thanks." he said. I nodded again, and walked into my room, finding Max asleep on his bunk, an ops manual over his eyes. I smiled and sat on my own bunk, taking a cleaning rag from the footlocker and beginning to wipe away the gangers' blood.


----------



## Iron Corsair (Nov 5, 2008)

Excellent as always, Dirge! I like how you're using First Person instead of third person. Awesome! :victory:


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Thanks. I wanted to break away from the norm of my stories. Doing a first-person after so long is kind of refreshing.
--------------------------------------

SEVEN-SIX-TWO
Jorien Market Quarter, Day 2, 1150 hours

"So we've got our op plan?"

Sam nodded. "Yep."

Harken turned. "And you've got the aerials set up?"

Derrick nodded. Cooper opened the door, walking in with two men in drab fatigues.

"Got a line in on the provost marshal. He's setting up a watch on the surround in Jorien. They're also cracking down on Deadman's Court later this month, apparently. The nobles are getting nervous about the gangs in the area."

He turned to the two men. "May I present Colonel Carter and Sergeant Smith of the 101st Cadian. They mustered out after V-Day. They'd like to help out with our little endeavor."

"No offense, but did you get them checked?"

"Yessir. Both honorably discharged, courage under fire, and tactical soundness. Carter is also a recipient of the Macharius Cross."

Harken nodded. "Very good. Glad to have you aboard."

The two guardsmen nodded and took seats around the map table.

"Now then, we've plotted a holomap of the palace using penetrating modar." said Harken. A map of the city appeared on the table, above a vast network of service ducts and tunnels. A large area was circled under the Imperial Palace.

"Our intel points us at this location for the cult activity. They've had some disappearances in the lower reaches for months now."

Cooper raised a hand. "Sir, that could just be mutants."

"Just so. That's why they sent us."

"Very good sir."

"Good. We'll need someone to infiltrate the palace, get us a way in. That's where your guard friends come in?"

Cooper nodded. "Yep. They're both working as private security at the palace grounds. They can let us in the main gates."

"Good. We'll also need someone to infiltrate the cult itself. The nobility, rather. We need a lead on this before we go in."

Sam snorted. "Unless you've got a Callidus hiding in the closet, you're not getting anywhere."

"No, but a certain Lady Lisa Urelia is incoming from St. Maxwell's Trail. She'll be our lead."

Derrick shook his head. "I don't think so. I've got no inbound from the Trail."

Harken nodded. "I didn't think you would. Lisa is completely fictional, to us. To everyone else she has a birth certificate, fingerprints, starship records, passports, the whole deal. Minor nobility, twenty-four years old. And that is where _you_ come in." he said, pointing at me.

"I don't think so." I said calmly. "Unless Lisa Urelia is a fan of SPAR armor and rifles, I'm not going cavorting around this city again. I've been attacked once and offered "jobs" twice. What is it with ninety percent of this city trying to get inside my armor?"

"Incorrect." said Derrick. "Ninety-_Four_ percent of Jorien is male heterosexual or female deviant, allowing for one percent error."

"What? Ninety percent of the city is guys?" asked Cooper. 

"Yes. Heronia IV follows a regimented procreation system. Males are allowed in several cities, Females in another. Mates are reassigned to cities where they will remain unbothered."

"Sounds like a nice system. What happens when you get a person in the other gender's city?"

"Usually assault followed by murder." said Derrick happily. "Which is precisely what we've seen with Anya, minus the murder. I'd recommend she stay in her armor for the duration of the trip, and try to not speak loudly."

"I'm surprised you two never got together." said Sam. "Sleeping within ten feet of each other for more then ten years, y'know."

"Nothing I haven't seen in the showers." said Max. "Whatever."

The room stopped dead. Smith narrowed his eyes. "You guys shower together?"

I spoke up. "Saves water. Keeps it from being cold for the last group. The ISO barracks only has two shower blocks. One for officers, and one for the Operatives."

Harken smacked his lips. "Well, anyways, are you willing to do it?"

"No." I said. "I'm an assassin. Not a noble. I don't even know how to make tea."

"Fine. Lord Linus Urelia then. Sam, you're up."

Sam nodded. "Cool. You two can be my guards."

Max and I shared a nod.

"Very well. Now then, we're going with 7.62mm rounds for this mission, we can share out. Coops, you're on the 13mm."

Cooper nodded. He turned to the side and picked a fat sniper rifle from it's case.

"Nothin' like the classics." he said fondly.

"Max, Anya, pick your poison, but stay at 7.62. I think that fits your HARs, right?"

"Yessir. Modular ammo loads. Everything from 5mm to 14mm." I said, pulling the HAR out so he could see the ammo cartridge.

"Good. I've got a line with the provosts. They'll take out secondaries all around the city when we go in. We're here to decapitate the cult on Herodia. Now, are we clear?"

The map table died. I nodded slowly to Max, who gave me a thumbs-up.

"We're clear." I said. The others nod.

"Good." said Harken. "Now who's hungry?"

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

I sat next to Max at the table, eating a plate of some steaks Parker had cooked up. I didn't identify the taste of it. Probably didn't want to either.

Max returned from the bar with a plate.

"That's all _vegetables_." said Carter accusingly. He pointed to his own plate, nearly all meat. I jabbed my fork into a piece of broccoli.

"Yep. Our field intelligence score is twice yours."

Carter laughed. Max pointed at his plate. "And exactly what do you think _that_ is?"

I smiled. "A _tube_ of some sort."

"Precisely, Ani. Eat up, dead man." finished Max with a flourish. Carter set his fork down, defeated.

"So, who's up for some cards?"


----------



## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

They shower together?:shok:.... WTF?... Anyway.. Nice job with the first person point of view:victory:...


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

The ISO barracks on Mimas is somewhat limited. Only two shower blocks, and the Commandant of the barracks get his own private on. The Ops all shower together, to save water. They might be Inquisition, but money rules everything.


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Very good, nice links to our lives aka 7.62 , btw Dirge, what calibre are the cannons on your Raptors?


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

20mm :victory: 

Update tomorrow.
-Dirge


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Thought so, seems rather ouchy. *I don't need bombs when I have thousands of bullets the size of two of your fingers!!! muahahahaha*


----------



## Dessel_Ordo (Jul 28, 2008)

awesome work man, some of this reminds me of the second Republic Commando book...
keep it up man, cant wait to read more!!


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Thanks!
--------

SETTLING IN
Jovien Palace District, 1320 hours

"Sir." said the butler. Sam nodded smoothly, clad in massive furs and golden armor. The serf opened the tremendous doors to the Pruittes' abode by pressing a small switch near his station behind a sheet of plasteel.

Max and I walked behind Sam, each having slightly more augmented gear attached to our SPAR armor to betray it's appearance. Max had attached a large shoulderpad connected by a strap to his chest, and a power axe hung from his back. I wore bandoleers to cover my slightly bulkier chest plate, having no intention of attracting more of Jorien's gangers.

"Lord Pruitte is waiting inside." said the butler, coming down from the controls once the door closed behind us. Max looked at the door, then at me, nodding. The signal for _Yes, a demo charge could breach that_. I nodded.

"Excellent. These are my guards, Cane and Amy." said Sam smoothly. The butler nodded and looked us over. "A woman? In Jorien? Sir, with respect, this is a male-oriented city. Only the noblemen are allowed wives or women present."

"I can take care of myself." I snarled. The man gave me one more look, then decided messing with an armed, likely angry, stranger wasn't good for his health, and backed off, opening the more conventional wooden door to the interior palace.

"Ah, master Linus. So good of you to visit our little retreat." said a well-built man, who looked in his early thirties. Two women, each probably five years younger then him, lounged around his throne. Sam licked his lips.

"Good of you to invite me, master Pruitte. I am here to speak freely, I'm afraid. My tongue is not tolerated off-world."

"Just so, my friend. I think we can work something out. Have you heard of the Freeman's Court?"

Sam cocked a head. "The what?"

"The Freeman's Court is a gathering of the men, and free-minded women, devoted to spreading freedom through Herodia IV. The Imperials don't see eye to eye with our beliefs, I'm afraid, so this is rather cloak-and-dagger."

Sam nodded, throwing the fur cape over his shoulder. 

"I see. This sounds like a rather interesting bunch." 

"Just so. I'd like you to meet them, in fact. What are your guards' disposition?"

A fact I remembered from the briefing on the strict practices in Jorien. _Will your Guards care about what I'm going to show you?_

Sam looked at Max and I. We nodded.

"No. They are open-minded to the prospect." he said.

Pruitte nodded and led us down a deserted corridor, ending at a steel door inlaid with cryptic runes.

"This is the Freeman's Court. I need your promise now you will not reveal our presence."

Sam nodded. The lord opened the door on oiled hinges to reveal a room covered in bookshelves.

"Not what I expected." said Sam. Pruitte laughed.

"Did you think we were fostering Chaos down here?" he said. A few of the men in the room laughed. Sam smiled weakly. 

"Not exactly. Something a little more pronounced, perhaps."

"No, master Linus. This is merely a gathering of scholars and poets. We feel our works are too precious to destroy, and store them here. Feel free to read as much as you want, or add your own tales if you desire."

Sam nodded. "May I take a tome with me? I must return to the palace for evening vigil."

"Of course." said Pruitte happily. Sam nodded imperceptibly to me. I switched the psyvision filter of my HUD on, finding a book in the corner that nearly blinded me with psyker feedback.

"Thank you." said Sam. He walked vaguely into the room, following my steps out of the corner of his eye. He gripped the spine of the book, which bore an odd rune across the front.

"Ah... curious you are drawn to the _Architect of Desire_." said Pruitte. "A book written by our very own Lord Fletcher only two weeks ago. It's caused quite a stir among the group. Take it, read it, Master Linus."

Sam nodded, and we made a hasty retreat from the palace. Cooper swung an aircar down from the heavens and we all stared at the book's cover on the way back to Parker's bar.

Harken came back five minutes later, none of us had touched the book. The Inquisitor glanced at it, then sat down at the table, fingers closing on the cover. Instantly the entire group was hovering at his shoulder, eager to see what the book held. Harken opened to a random page and we all stared with equal parts confusion and curiosity.

"I don't think that's anatomically possible." said Smith seriously.

"It's not. And if it was it would be illegal." Max replied. 

"Looks kind of painful to try." I said.

"Well, there's proof of intent. Now we just need to find the group." said Harken, closing the book with a muffled _whump_.

"Pruitte was talking about a Lord Fletcher that wrote it. He might be a good start." said Sam, shrugging off the heavy furs.

"Might be. Get me a line on him. I want to schedule a little visit."


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

UNIFORMS?
Jovien Palace District, Day 3, 1000 hours

Fletcher's palace turned out to be just as opulent as Pruitte's, if a bit smaller. Max and I strode alongside Sam once again, walking under the stained glass arch to the inner palace grounds. A burly guard stood at the doors.

"Lord Linus Urelia, to see Master Fletcher." said Sam. The guard looked at Max and I.

"Anything to declare?" asked the Guard. Sam nodded and handed the man a stubby laspistol. He looked at Max, who looked at me. I shook my head slightly.

The doors swung open, and the spiral stair leading down deposited us in a massive hall, edged in gold and hung with purple banners. Max sniffed the air. 

"Smells like perfumes." he said. I nodded. 

"Must be a lot to make the place smell like this."

Max nodded and pulled his ammo belts a little tighter. 

A man clad in grey furs and a silvery breastplate walked down the stairway in front of us, a half-dozen women at his heels.

"Ah, master Linus. Lord Pruitte informed me of your desire to join my little group."

Sam nodded. "Yes, master Fletcher. I seek the knowledge that apparently only you can provide."

The man's eyes glinted, and the women climbed down the stairs, running their hands over Sam's shoulders, and Max's and my armor. I shrugged off the girls, and nudged Max. He lifted his shoulders a little higher, and the women backed off.

"I trust your guards are not too closed-minded? And a _female_, in Jorien. What a pleasant surprise." said Fletcher.

"Nothing too drastic, Lord, but they've seen their share of unorthodoxy."

"Good. Carol dear, take Master Linus and his friends to the conservatory level."

The leading woman, wearing little more then two leather straps, looked at her master in alarm.

"Minimal risk, my love. Now go."

She nodded and beckoned to us, leading our group down another flight of stairs that ended at a massive room dominated by pink silks and fluffy cushions. Carol turned to Max and I.

"I'd love it if you two would slip into something more... _comfortable_. She said. She handed me a single strap of silk. I handed it back.

"I'm a little chilly, actually. Drafty down here." I said. Max nodded in agreement.

"They're kind of the group uniform." she explained. 

"Uniforms?" asked Sam, turning. 

"Just a little game we like to play." said Carol. She indicated her own less-then-ample amount of clothing.

"I see. Well, continue. If I like what I see we'll talk about the uniforms."

Carol swallowed, no doubt displeased, and led on, ending in a large atrium. People, mostly women, walked about in various states of dress. A man sat knee-deep in a fountain of wine in the center of the room, drinking from a silver goblet. Lord Fletcher strode up, wearing a tight-fitting bodysuit. I realized the man must undergo juvenat treatments like the ISO operatives to remain so youthful at his age.

"So, do you like my little sanctuary?" asked Fletcher.

"It's fascinating." said Sam. He looked around, noting the number of garish portraits of art along the walls. 

"You should see our guests." said Fletcher.

"Guests?" asked Sam.

The count nodded. "Mostly women from the other cities, although sometimes the Immaterium is generous, and gives us more then we ask for."

He closed his eyes, as if remembering. 

Max swapped to the ISO OPCOMM channel, so only I would hear.

"Demons?" he asked.

"Could be. Or just augmented humans."

"Certainly is a cult down here then."

"Yep. Slaanesh judging by the... less then liberal amount of dress."

"Aw. I thought you liked the uniforms, but were just _cold_."

I laughed. "Quiet. And make sure you've got a weapon handy. I don't like this."

We swapped back to the ambient comms, taking in the moans of pain and pleasure drifting from around the room. Sam looked uncomfortable. Fletcher reopened his eyes.

"So, brother. Do you accept the word of the God?"

Sam swallowed. He hadn't expected this, then. I tensed slightly. 

"I do." he said. Max gasped over the comm. 

Sam turned to Max and I. 

"And you will too, sooner or later." he said. A pale pink glow built behind his eyes.

"Shit!" yelled Max. He raised his HAR and fired a burst into Sam's chest. The acolyte toppled over, blood erupting from his mouth. 

"Resistant, eh?" asked Fletcher, rising impossibly from the floor on a carpet of purple energy.

"You'll come around. They all do." he said. 

"Nope, sorry. You'll be too busy being dead." I snarled. I fired into the glow, but the rounds pinged off the energy.

"I look forward to having you at the base of my throne, girl. Carol needs a new lover." he said, and vanished with a _crack_.

"Ani! Get over here!" yelled Max. He shot on full auto into the room, downing another half-dozen cultists. 

I threw myself over the pillar he was using as cover and opened fire, seeing two women come apart under HAR rounds. A man in pink silks flew at me, a power maul in his hand. I punched him, mashing his nose into his face and throwing him backwards. 

"Me next, oh me next!" howled a woman, throwing herself onto me. She grabbed me around the neck, wrapping her legs around my waist. I butted the forehead of my helmet into her face, crushing it. She collapsed in a heap and I stamped on her in disgust.

Max pulled a bolt pistol from his belt and blew the head of a cultist off. He smacked the butt of the weapon into another, sending the woman down in a pool of blood. A purple glow built in the room, and a second _crack_ sounded.

Lord Fletcher strode ten feet in the air, cackling, over a crowd of two dozen demons. They were vile, pink skinned with black, alien eyes, but singularly attractive and unmistakably female. I fought a sudden urge to drop my weapons and fired into their midst. The leading demon caught the rounds full on, shredding it's body and sending it back to the warp with a sudden eruption of pink ooze. A mist filtered into the chamber, spreading from Fletcher's robes, and the demons suddenly appeared in our midst. I crushed the skull of the first, and a second grabbed me from behind. Max lunged to help and was grappled by another, pinning him to the ground. A demon without any armor whatsoever straddled my chest, hissing and drawing back a fanged blade.

"Stop." said Fletcher. The demon looked up.

"Take them to the pens. I said _alive_, remember?"

I looked over at Max, horrified to see a black knife impaling his thigh. He nodded weakly.

The comm opened with a _pop_.

"Stay strong, Ani." he said as they dragged him away.

"And you." I replied, feeling clawed hands begin to tear my armor away.


----------



## Gambit14 (Aug 30, 2008)

very well done, cant wait for more, same response as to all your other stories


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Awesome, simply awesome dirge. MORE!


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

THE PLAN
Below Jorien Palace District, Day 7, 830 hours

There was pain. That was good.

It meant I was alive.

I opened my eyes, staring at the stone ceiling above me.

"Wakey wakey, my little princess." cooed the guard. "Breakfast already."

He shoved a plate of rancid bread and cheese through the slots in the door. I shoved it back, crushing his toe.

"Ah, still got some fight in you? Good, good. The master dislikes them without any fierceness in them."

I slumped against the wall. Four days. I hadn't seen Max since we were captured. My only visitor was the demon that had attempted to knife me the previous day, and more often then not it's visits left me even more delirious and enraged. The stench of combat drugs wafted around the prison block.

After three days I could stand and move again, recovered from the merciless attacks I received at the hands of the demons. Today, on the fourth, my mind was clear enough to put the plan into action.

I made sure the guard was gone, and snapped the chain holding me against the wall with a contemptuous flick of my wrist. I was wearing only the nonpowered undersuit of my armor, which left my upper legs, midriff, and lower arms completely unprotected. I thanked the Emperor the demons hadn't been able to unlock the undersuit, or I might have been subjected to a worse torture then physical harm, given the Slaaneshi cult's predilections.

I fiddled with my gauntlets, pulling a thin piece of adamantium from the palm. I leaned through the bars and inserted the pick into the lock on the door, snapping the tumblers with a _crack_. I pushed the door open, and hurried down the hallway.

"-still asleep?"

"Nah. Just woke up. She might be ready for more...persuasive....measures. At least if we can get that damned suit off."

"I'm getting a plasma cutter from the palace grounds tomorrow. We can cut it off then."

"Good."

I turned the corner silently, seeing the guard's back turned as another cultist walked away. The guard began to turn, and opened his mouth to yell a warning. I leapt forward, chopping my hand across his throat. He toppled over, gurgling horribly, and I tackled the second cultist, snapping his neck.

I rolled, arresting my momentum, and slapped my back against a second corner. A locker that said CONTRABAND was set against the wall. I peeled the door away, and was unsurprised to find my armor and weapons stacked among pistols, rifles, clothing, and ammo.

I attached my armor to the undersuit, the Mark VI coming to life around me. I dug around the locker, finding my worn leather belts and holsters. The plasma pistols felt reassuringly heavy against my thighs.

I pulled my battered HAR from the locker, and snapped a fresh clip into the rifle. 

"H-hello?" asked a voice.

I spun around.

"Is anyone there?!" a man's voice yelled. I walked back down the prison aisle, fearing what I might find. Max was chained to the wall, as I was, but they had obviously found the wrench to unlock his undersuit in his gear. He was covered in cuts and bruises, and a collar was fixed around his neck.

"Max." I said, sorrow creeping into my voice.

"Anya! Anya thank the Emperor, you've got to go. Get out of here!"

I shouldered aside the doors and snapped the collar around his neck. Instantly he looked better, and a pink wisp of energy crackled from the shorn collar. I kicked it into a corner and helped Max to his feet, supporting him effortlessly with my servo-assisted grip.

"Wh-How do we get out of here?" he asked weakly. His eyes were defocused, and I shook him, bringing him back to the present.

"Stay with me, Max." I said. I hefted the HAR-45 in the other hand. 

"Thought I'd shoot my way out, mix things up a little. And I'll leave a little surprise for our hosts."

Max smiled, a trace of his old self surfacing. I handed him a PANIK mine attached to my rucksack and he armed it with practiced skill, tossing it into his cell.

"Where's your kit?" I asked. Max shook his head. 

"They melted it down. I watched them do it." he said sadly. I nodded. Loosing your kit was a difficult thing for an OPS to deal with. No wonder Max had cracked so quickly.

I handed him a bolt pistol I found in the locker and he cocked it, nodding sadly.

We crept along the prison level, and up a flight of stairs, twice narrowly avoiding guards. As we approached a nondescript metal door that said SERVICE TUNNELS on it, a single man walked right up to the door, apparently oblivious to his life expectancy.

I stepped up behind him, and he turned to berate me for blocking the light.

"Why you insolent little-" he began. His mouth fell open at the sight of my weapons. I shot him in the chest, and he fell over. Max pulled the spoofer from my belt and attached it to the door's controls. Three trillion attempts a second fried the lock and the door opened, leading down a dank corridor into the undercity. It was dark and smelled of refuse and stale food, but thankfully none of the aromatic incense and perfumes the cult seemed to have an endless supply of. A shout sounded from the atrium.

"Sounds like they've figured out we're missing." I said. Max reached around the door and grabbed the spoofer, closing the door and attaching it to the other side. He hit the word "SEAL" on the spoofer, and the machine's screen turned red as it changed the code to open the door sixty-five million times a minute.

We hurried along the service tunnel, until a shaft of light penetrated the underground from a grate ten feet above our heads. I raised the plasma pistols and fired until it hung on melted hinges. Sirens and yells of alarm filtered down from the outside. I hauled Max onto my shoulder and jumped, catching the edge of the grate and tossing Max onto the sidewalk, dragging myself after it.

A dozen people helped Max to his feet, gasping at and comforting his wounds. I shrugged off assistance and knelt down with a field medicae kit to mend Max's injuries as best I could.

Five minutes later, an aircar bearing the Cadian 99th's insignia set down ten feet from our position. Inquisitor Harken, Smith, Cooper, Derrick, and Carter piled out, scattering people as the Inquisitor looked us over.

"Where's Sam?" he asked.

"Dead." I answered. "I killed him."

"Damn it." he cursed lowly. "We've got to go. This has become much larger."

Cooper and Smith helped Max into the car, and we whisked away into the air. I leaned back in the padded seat, eyes closed. 

"Anything to eat?" I said.


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Well, I'm not getting any sleep today due to way the heck too much coffee before my last flight. More writing perhaps. 
----------------------------------------------------------------------

BREAKING COVER
Jorien Market Quarter, Day 7, 1000 hours

I ate more for breakfast then I had ever eaten in a day before. Grox steaks, fried eggs, biscuits, vegetable platters, crisps. All of it was greasy and smelled of burned fat, but I was beyond caring. It was the best meal I had ever eaten. Max refused any food, and Derrick was caring for his wounds. 

Harken sat down at the table across from me, sweeping the plates and cups to one side. I paused in mid-chew and met his stare, looking up from my armor's diagnostics.

"You know what we have to do." he said. I sighed, and nodded.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Anya Vostok, OPS number 243."

"What is your profession?"

"Inquisitorial Security Office Operative, Assassin."

"Where were you born?"

"Port Rostock, Sigma 17 Asteroid."

Harken nodded and reached into his robes, procuring a scanner. He ran it over me.

"Looks clean. You were exposed for too short a time to cause mutation anyways, I suppose. Now stand up, and armor off."

I unlocked my suit with a _hiss_ of escaping atmosphere and the last discomforting wisps of the Slaaneshi cult's perfumes were lost to the ozone and beer smells of Parker's.

Harken walked around me, as I shivered in the cool air. 

"You've got a new one." he said smoothly, pointing to my thigh. I looked down, finding to my horror a small tattoo, about the length of my hand. The mark of Slaanesh seemed to writhe as we looked. Harken took a plasma cutter and with one practiced movement, sliced the skin away. The tattoo fell from my side, and burst into flames as he stabbed the cutter into it. I gritted my teeth at the pain, but felt a sudden pressure lift as the tattoo was removed. Harken sprayed synth-flesh onto the wound and patted me on the shoulder.

"I didn't think you'd want to add that one to your collection." he said with a smile. I nodded. Over the years I had accumulated quite a few designs, from the scrollwork on my back to the thin lines of text along my upper arms. On my left shoulder, ISO OPS 243 was daubed in black and red ink under the Inquisitorial seal. Harken handed me my undersuit, and I slipped it on, wincing as the hardened carapace rubbed against the congealing synth-flesh bandage. I thanked the Inquisitor and began to reattach my armored plates. 

An hour later, after Max had undergone the same treatment, we all gathered in the main room. Harken opened a holomap, the surrounding area and city of Jorien highlighted.

"Alright team. We know the cult is deeply entrenched in Jorien and the surround. A regiment of Cadian Guard is coming from the Eye to reinforce us and destroy the cult. I am initiating contingency plan TRIPWIRE. Anyone who doesn't want in, can leave for _Razor's Edge_ in less then an hour.

"Note the complete lack of movement, sir." I said. "We're here to stay."

Max nodded. The OPS had a broken jaw, three broken ribs, cuts and scrapes all over his body, and burns where the demons had torn away his armor.

"We can blow the cult's headquarters anytime you like, sir." I said. I held up the PANIK detonator. Harken nodded happily. 

"Then by all means, Anya. Treat us to some fireworks."

I pressed the detonator, and the ground rumbled. The lights flickered on and off, and loose rivets and dust fell from the ceiling. 

"Sir," crackled the radio. "SHIPCOM here. We're seeing an explosion in the Palace district. Two of the towers are already down, a third is falling as I speak. Looks like a thermo mine, sir."

Harken smiled. "Yes it is, SHIPCOM. Good eyes, son. Harken out."

The radio went dead. 

"Now then. We can simply clean the city out." said Harken. "This just got easier. The 99th is landing in two days, and we'll sweep Jorien top to bottom."

I nodded, still in full armor. "Payback's a bitch."

Max coughed, holding a towel to his mouth as he wiped away a streak of blood. "And so are you. Damn, but you killed them on the way out."

"Dragging your carcass along the way, no less." I said. I nudged him playfully, and he smiled. 

Derrick moved to the table from his spot across the room.

"I'd not recommend moving for a day, fighting for at least a week. 167's injuries are substantial."

"Not good enough." said Max. He stood up. "It has to be tomorrow at latest."

Derrick nodded. "Fine. I'll start up the medicarium, but bear in mind not to do anything too extreme."

The meeting broke up with a light optimism, and I stood on the landing pad for a time, watching the plume of smoke and debris rising over the Palace district. The PANIK mine would have obliterated the greater portion, vaporizing Fletcher's palace entirely, and destroying Pruitte's in the hail of shrapnel. Several other Lords' manors were destroyed in the blaze, and the death toll was already in the hundreds.

I moved downstairs to the bar area, shouldering my way past dozens of gangers and hivers. Parker wiped a glass on his shirt and handed it to me. I nodded and handed him the stack of plates I had accumulated with my meal. 

"Hey, sweetie. You want to go someplace quieter?" a drunk next to me asked. I turned with menacing slowness and mashed his nose flat with an armored fist. The man dropped like a sack of bricks, unconscious before he hit the floor. Parker looked at me in astonishment and then licked his lips.

"I'm not in the mood for bullshit today." I said coldly. Parker nodded.

"Yes, ma'am. Do you need anything else?"

I shook my head slowly.

"No. I'm alright."


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

cold, simply cold thar ending of the chapter. She is awesome. brilliant dirge


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

THE STORM
Jorien Residential Quarter, Day 9, 1200 hours

"Where's our next target?" I asked. The comms crackled to life as I stepped over the body of a young man, bullets riddling his body.

"Some place on the other side of the quarter. Place called Madame Dufrege's. It's a front for cult recruitment."

I rose from the crouch, turning to look at Max. He was in grubby Mark III armor, his old set. He was slightly slower and weaker then me, a result of the injuries and armor's own worn servos. 

"Come on." I said. We stomped down an alleyway, ignoring the screams as gunshots sounded throughout the quarter. The 99th wasn't taking any chances, basically decimating Jorien's population. Max and I ran diagonally across the street, passing a burned-out groundcar. A man weeped as he saw us, burns covering his body, a lasbolt wound in his chest that pumped blood as he breathed. I pushed him over and put a shot into his head, ending him.

I crouched near the gates to the house. Max ran forward, and kicked the door in. I smashed through the front windows, and pumped HAR fire across the room. Men in combat dress and women in no dress toppled over. The rifle ran out and I cast it aside, drawing my pistols with a flourish. A man howled and raised a lasgun. I put six plasma bolts into his torso and he fell in three large pieces. Max yelped and was tossed through the wall as a massive man in black leather stomped through, a power mace in his hand. I turned, throwing my armored boot around, and caught him just below the ribs. He howled and his ribcage caved in with a _crack_. The mace dropped and I shot him twice in the stomach, vaporizing most of his innards.

"Honey, you really shouldn't be acting like that." said a voice. I turned, pistols raised.

"Didn't your mother teach you to be nice to people?" asked my father.

"...Dad?" I asked. He smiled warmly, wearing the grubby coveralls I remembered from the shipyards on Sigma 17.

"That's right, sweetie. Come here. Give me a hug." he said. Every detail about him was perfect, from the rusty dust caking his boots to the cracked left lens of his welding goggles. He held his arms out to his sides. I began to move towards him, every instinct screaming trap.

"Hannah?" asked Max. I turned. Max was moving towards my father. 

"That's right." he said. "Come here."

I flipped through the optics, ending at witchsight.

"Get back!" I howled. Max turned at the noise and I shot my father dead in the chest, blowing his innards over the wall.

"What did you do!?" Max yelled. He tackled me suddenly and threw me to the floor. I pushed him back, our servos whining as they fought. I gained the upper hand and shoved him off, rising to put a dozen more shots into my father's body, destroying his torso and left arm in a hail of plasma fire. The illusion vanished, replaced with a pudgy woman wearing a short dress and shawls.

"Madame Dufrege, I presume." I said. Max stood up, astonished.

"But it looked so...real." he said, a sad tone edging into his voice. "Hannah."

"I know." I said. We moved on, breaking down the basement door. A man wearing a leather mask and chainlink armor stomped up to meet us, and I punched him, sending him flying back down the stairs. Max shot his HAR into the man, and he lay still in a rapidly expanding pool of blood.

We moved out of the house, planting a packet of C12 at the base of the columns in the basement.

The house detonated as I pressed the red button in my palm.

As we moved across the street, the comms crackled again.

"243, report visual on direction west." said the 99th's TACCOM.

I turned. A fiendish purple haze was growing from the rubble of the Palace District, black clouds growing and shot through with pink and red lightning.

"Storm." I said. "It's a warp storm."


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

SURVIVAL
Outside Jorien, Day 9, 1350 hours

I dragged Max behind me as we ran from the expanding warp storm, his injuries making him limp. I switched off the comm as we heard the shrieks and screams of the 99th's men as they were consumed by the storm.

Valkyries flashed overhead, fleeing. Twice I tried to hail them, but the pilots were beyond fear now, simply running for orbit as fast as they could.

I fell in a crater outside the walls, exhausted. Max dropped beside me, panting. His ribs had rebroken, and his armor leaked blood. 

"Leave." he said suddenly. 

"Not a chance." I said. I tried to pick him up again, and dropped him back down as my strength gave out again.

"You can't do this." he said. I shook my head and shouldered the HAR.

"You'll need that. I'm going to slow you down." he said. I dropped the rifle. He held out his hand, and pulled his helmet off. I removed mine as well. We shook hands, and he handed me his holotags. I knelt down and kissed him on the cheek, and wiped away the single tear rolling down my face. I put my helmet back on quickly and patted his shoulder, and turned.

"Goodbye, Max." I said. I left without another word, sprinting over the grounds. The spaceport was under attack by cultists trying to flee the doomed world, only now realizing what they had unleashed. Guardsmen dove out of the way as I smashed the gate open after five minutes of running over the brown scrubplains. 

I reached the command post without incident, saluting Inquisitor Harken, Cooper, and Derrick.

"Where's Max?" asked Harken. I shook my head, seeing the 167 in my HUD go dark.

"I'm sorry, Ani." said Cooper with a twinge of emotion. I licked my lips.

We moved over the grounds, taking a bulk hauler with _Trespasser's William_ painted under it's nose. Cooper sat at the pilot's controls, and the ship lurched as the ground fell away. I pulled my helmet off and bit my glove as I thought of Max laying in the crater, slowly being overwhelmed by the waves of cultists radiating from the storm's center. I put his holotags in my belt pockets, noticing I hadn't let go of them since he had handed them to me.

"We're being hailed by the _Razor's Edge_." said Cooper. "I'm transmitting the override code for TRIPWIRE."

"Belay that." said Harken. "Tell them to loose the psy torpedoes and arm lance batteries."

_Trespasser's William_ set down in the ship's hold, and as soon as I stepped onto the deck I felt the energy course through it as the lances fired. 

"Second salvo away. Confirmed, storm is breaking."

A sigh of relief echoed through the hold. The deckhands and ratings cheered. 

We rode an elevator to the bridge, and Harken took his place in the command chair.

"Warp portals opening in sectors nine, two, and seven! Multiple contacts, unknown classification!"

Harken leaned forward.

"Get me a readout. Arm chaff and flares. All power to forward shields and Nova Cannon."

Men hurried about.

"Two Infidel-class Raiders, one Murder-class cruiser." replied a rating. "It's the Ravagers."

I nodded. That made sense. If Fletcher had been a member of the Ravagers, the cult would have sent reinforcements to evacuate him and his entourage.

"Nova gun at 82%, lord."

"Fire." said Harken. A rumble echoed through the ship as the massive shell sped towards the Murder-class. The ship expanded in a mass of debris, but impossibly, continued on course, shedding broken hull fragments and ionized air.

"Lances away." said another. One of the raiders detonated as the six bolts of light hit it just below the bridge decks.

The third raider flashed by the _Razor's Edge_, spitting broadside fire into it. The starboard hangers depressurized in an explosion of air, and the emergency doors sealed.

"Damage report on the cruiser." said Harken.

"Estimates are at engine power 20%, weapons 10%. Shields dead, warp engine damaged. Command crew dead or dying."

"Fire torpedoes."

"Aye, sir."

Twelve ship-to-ship missiles lanced into the Murder's belly, opening the ship up like a ripe fruit. The last volley speared into it and it erupted like rotten wormwood hit with a mallet. Debris flew in a cloud.

"Brace for debris." chirped a rating. Thumps echoed through the bridge. 

"Where's the Infidel?" asked Harken. 

"Turning. Troopship Nine is gone."

"Bring us about to follow. Arm lances."

The ship turned, coming to a slow burn. 

"He's seen us. Slowing to engagement speed."

The two ships passed each other in the upper atmosphere, spitting fire and death at point-blank range. _Razor's Edge_ had better gunners, however, and the last Ravager ship fell burning towards Jorien.

A chunk of the Murder-class ship struck the _Razor's Edge_ at over sixteen hundred miles per hour, blasting the ship nearly in half. I stared in awe at the suddenly open bridge. Men flew about, choking and dying. Harken had a void hood over his head, and Derrick was about as concerned as I was. I sealed my armor instantly, and a sixteen-hour clock started to tick down as the air scrubber marched toward death. The filters were good for poison gas, hard vacuum, water, even molten ore. 

"We've got to go!" yelled Harken over the comm. He pushed a dead man out of his way and stumbled for the hatch as the gravity failed, then restarted. I pressed the door control and dove through, into the elevator to the hangers.

The elevator jammed halfway down as another system failed. I floated to the ceiling and fired into the floor, melting the bottom into slag. We swam through the vacuum to the hanger decks, entering an airlock.

"Thank the Emperor." said Harken. "The hanger's still secure."

"Not really." said Cooper's voice over the comm. "I'm on the _Trespasser's William_. The deck's depressurized. Come to the port side loading bay. It's got an airlock."

We swam past the cockpit, I saw Cooper waving from the flight deck, and dove into the ship. Harken pulled the void hood off as the pressure alarm beeped. Derrick brushed the frost from his cloak, and I simply shrugged off the layer of frost on my shoulders.

"Good to see you, guys." said Cooper. He piloted the ship out of the bay, and we turned to see the _Razor's Edge_ tumbling to the deserts of Herodia IV.


----------



## Dessel_Ordo (Jul 28, 2008)

once again, excellent work man


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Brilliant Dirge, nice use of Battle Fleet Gothic knowledge. Very well done!


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

Thanks guys.
-------------

DOUBLE E
ISO _Raven's Call_, High Orbit, Herodia IV, Day 10, 0945 hours

I wrung the water out of my hair, draping a towel around myself. I turned the simple handle and the shower ceased. I stood in front of the mirror for a second, inspecting my scars and tattoos with a practiced eye.

"Anya? Chief?" asked Mike. He knocked on the door.

"Yeah, newbie?" I responded.

"Oh, fleet called. They want a sitrep now."

I smiled wryly. Fleet had been calling for a day now. 

"I'll take care of it."

I stepped over to the bathroom closet, drawing my armor out and putting it on quickly. Mike saluted as I stepped out, feeling much better now that the dust and grime of Herodia IV had been washed away. My armor gleamed in the ship's stark lights.

"Newbie, every time you salute it's just another part that can get shot off."

Mike cocked his head in question.

"And put your armor on." I added. My own was repainted a gunmetal grey with splatters of red on it. 167 was painted in red slashes under my own combat ID.

"Why, chief? Officer Long says it's against the regs to wear full SPAR armor on board."

"And I'm telling _you_ that I will not be chiseling your frozen body off the floor if this tub depressurizes."

"Yes, Chief Petty Officer, ma'am." said Mike. He ran off to retrieve his Mk V armor from it's locker. The boy's suit was a marbled camo pattern from Mars, red and brown in equal measure.

"Fleet Officer Long calling the _Raven's Call_, Anya-243, pick up the damn vox."

I slapped the end of my bayonet against the receiver, turning the overhead vox on.

"_Raven's Call_ here." I said. Long's voice sounded surprised.

"Um... This is Fleet Officer Long. We're sending a security shuttle aboard to take you and your crew to the _Intrepid_ for debrief and your next assignment."

"That won't be necessary, Fleet. Tell the men to open the aft portside airlock. I fancy a walk."

"Um.."

"I'll take that as a "yes, ma'am." See you in a bit. _Raven's Call_ out."

I rapped hard on Mike's door, and the trainee stepped out, still looking ill-at-ease with his massive suit of SPAR armor.

"Come on, newbie." I said. "Time to walk the walk."

We stepped into the airlock, and I mashed down hard on a red button. A lever popped into placed above my head, and I yanked down on it. The exterior door swooshed open and a blast of air flew past us as the airlock's interior door sealed.

"Come on." I said. I stepped onto the side of the ship, my armor's magnetics clamping onto the hull. Mike was close behind, awkwardly stomping along. 

I locked in on the _Intrepid_'s signature, and jumped.

Everything fell silent for a moment as Herodia IV spun below me. I closed my eyes, spreading my arms to control the spin. Mike foundered behind me, flailing for purchase.

My boots landed squarely on the airlock door, and I bent down to knock on it. Mike slammed into the ship ten feet from me, and scrambled to his feet.

The doors opened. I stepped inside the airlock and the outer door sealed. We stepped onto the _Intrepid_.

"Welcome aboard, ma'am. Hell of an entry." said the rating.

"I like to make an entrance." I said. 

The weasly man led me down a corridor to the conference room, where Fleet Officer Long sat.

"Operative 243. Heck of a mess to clean up."

I shrugged. "You should have been there."

I patted my thigh, where the still-healing sythflesh bandage covered the scar left by the cult's tattoo being removed. 

He nodded. "Just so. Too bad about the retreat."

"Retreat, sir?" I asked, curious.

"Yours, I mean. You ran from Jorien, did you not?"

I shook my head. "OPS never retreat sir."

"Then what do you call it, dare I ask?"

"Tactical withdrawl to rearm and supply." I said.

"Sounds like retreat to me."

"Escape and Evasion, sir."

Long smiled. "You're very positive, for someone who's seen so much wrong."

"Wrong is relative sir."

"Do the ones you hunt speak like that?" he asked dangerously. His hand went to the bolt pistol on his hip. Mike cringed.

"I don't go hunting sir. "Hunting" implies the possibility of failure. I go killing, sir."

The hand dropped. Long laughed.

"I can see, Petty Officer. The ISO's assembling a court on Mimas to hear your full report. Now then, may I present the Fleet Court."


----------



## juddski (Nov 3, 2008)

> The last volley speared into it and it erupted like rotten wormwood hit with a mallet


.where do you get these from?..do you actually go out and try it first dirge?:shok:.........i've got to spread my rep before i can give you any more ,but as soon as i can..excellent story ,rivitingly good:good:


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

DEBRIEF
Inquisitorial Security Office, Mimas, Day 11, 1235 hours

The _Raven's Call_ exited the Mimas Warp Relay at a slow burn, circling the prison world before Mike and I took a small shuttle to the surface.

The ISO's CITADEL base was nestled deep in the equatorial mountains, protected from barrage and natural disasters. The shuttle bounced on it's skids, and I stepped off the ramp with a suitably dramatic gesture. For the occasion I was wearing a long cloak, black with silver clasps, with my rank insignia stamped on the shoulder. I nodded to the guards and the doors swooshed open. 

I walked down the hallways, Mike at my heels, and I looked at the various training arenas, remembering. We passed the Jungle, a mass of carnivorous vegetation and poisonous spores. We passed Camp Froman, where two dozen sniper drones followed two initiates as they wove through a minefield.

We walked past the Killing House, a massive, ramshackle dwelling whose walls and doors changed daily, and traps lay at every corner. 

Finally we reached the briefing room, a long room with a modar screen set into the wall. A dozen ISO officials, and a few members of the other Ordos, sat at a semicircular table.

"Anya-243?" asked the largest man. I nodded. He indicated the desk in the center of the room. I sat, while Mike stood behind me.

"Remove your helmet, Petty Officer." said the Inquisitor.

"I'd rather not sir. A bit drafty in here." I replied. Mike choked at the breach of protocol, and removed his own helmet uncomfortably fast.

The man's lips pursed, but he didn't object.

"Fine. I call the seventy-second Court Gladius to order. The defendant is Operative 243, Anya. Lord Dominic Santiago presiding."

I swept my cloak to one side. 

"How is it you discovered the cult on Herodia?" asked Stuart, an underinquisitor seated next to Santiago. 

"Subversion. Lord Pruitte led us to Fletcher, who invited us to join."

"Invited? Yes, indeed. You were held for a week in the cult's dungeons, according to your own report."

I nodded. "That's right."

Stuart turned to Santiago.

"Your artificier calculated the odds of an untrained mind remaining sane in a Slaaneshi cult setting?"

The inquisitor nodded.

"And what were those?" asked Stuart. "When would corruption become irrefutable?"

Santiago licked his lips. "Three days."

Stuart turned back to me. "And this _girl_ spent how many?"

I looked dead at him. "Seven."

"I see. Necrobat omnes, omnes civilias, omnes legionnaires?" he asked.

"Omnes necrobo, mea domina." I replied. An ugly murmur ran around the room.

"You speak a language of the Ruinous Powers." remarked Santiago.

"Fluently, lord." I shot back.

He nodded and scribbled something on his notepad.

"And I see Lord Harken removed a tattoo from your thigh after you escaped."

"Yes. He used a lascutter." I said.

Stuart shook his head at Santiago. The High Inquisitor smacked his lips.

"Operative 243, it is the decision of this council you be imprisoned immediately, until we can come to certainties of your loyalty. One does not "escape" capture, and one does not remain untainted by the deep places of the galaxy. Goodbye, Anya."

Two burly OPS in Mark V SPAR armor grabbed me from behind, and the world went black.


----------



## crabpuff (Aug 5, 2008)

Paranoia at its best


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

WINDUP TOYS
Mimas Mid-Security Section 7, Day 12, 1200 hours

I opened my eyes. A guardman in red and black fatigues led me down the hall, oblivious to the fact I could break him in half without effort. A single interrogator sat at a metal table bolted to the floor. A black-faced window looked over the room. Servo skulls armed with psycannons floated in swarms around the chamber.

"Please." he said, indicating the seat. I shook my head. 

"Very well." he remarked. "I'd like to ask you about the destruction of the palace district. We've gone over it with a high-res sensorium sweep. Nothing remains of the cult chambers, and the Warp Resonator that caused the storm is gone. The psy torpedoes Lord Harken unleashed on Herodia caused it to implode.

"Good." I said coldly. I clenched my fist. "I hope they burned."

"Just so. We've recovered vidcaptures of the explosion. High yield nuclear mine."

I licked my lips, and nodded.

"A PANIK mine." I said. 

He seemed unnerved by the blank visage of my helmet. _Good_, I thought.

"Yes... do you know how much evidence you destroyed?" he asked, shuffling a pile of papers on the table. I swept my cloak to one side, sweeping down to sit opposite to him. I placed my hands on the table, less then an inch from his own hands. He withdrew.

"I know how much _heresy_ I destroyed." I said smoothly.

A voice came over the intercoms, and I could make out the shadow of underinquisitor Stuart in the black window.

"You obliterated much knowledge of this cult's contacts. We may never catch all of them now!"

I leaned back, comfortable at the man's unease at being so close to me.

"I was ordered." I said.

"Are you implying the Inquisition _made_ you destroy a functioning Warp Resonator and it's accompanying chambers?!" roared Stuart.

"I followed Contingency TRIPWIRE to the letter. In the event of capture, we are to do as much damage as possible in an escape attempt. I happened to have a thermonuclear mine in my pack. I am saying that any evidence, as well as the Resonator, were destroyed by the detonation of a PANIK mine in the Palace district, in line with my orders."

"Emperor save us." said the interrogator. "What did you expect from the ISO's windup soldiers?"

I lunged across the table and grabbed the man by the throat, dragging him close to me. 

"Never. Ever. Talk about us like that again." I said. Two Stormtroopers separated us with some difficulty.

"Without the ISO countless atrocities would have happened, and you would have sat by, _talking_. Never doing _anything_. Max died. Anton died. _Hundreds_ of us have died, so you people can sit around and drink tea and chat. Acta, Non Verba."

"Actions, not Words." said the interrogator, rubbing his bruised throat. "Very well. I restore you to operational status, but I'll be mindful of your... honor... in the future."

"That's all I ask." I said. I heard Stuart raging around in the room next door, knocking over furniture and cracking vox screens.

We shook hands, and I walked back to the _Raven's Call_, nodding to Max as I sat on the bunk and began to remove my helmet. The young initiate handed me a wet towel and I draped it across my face, letting the cool water seep into my forehead.

"Mike," I said softly. "Never ever let them insult you. No matter how much these clowns tell you we couldn't exist without them, always remember that it's the exact opposite."

"Yes ma'am." he said reverently. He handed me a cloth-wrapped object, heavy and rounded.

"The _Razor's Edge_ stopped in-system two hours ago. The shipmaster asked me to give this to you."

I took the package and opened it slowly. I picked up Max's helmet with both hands, placing it's visor against my brow in a silent acceptance of his death.

"You were better then me." I said softly. Mike took the hint and ducked out of the room.

"You didn't deserve that. I could have carried you."

A series of scratches caught my eye. I wiped away the grime and inspected it. Scrabbled into the metal of the Mark VI helmet was a message.

Don'T BLaMe YoURsELF, ANi. SeE yOu LAteR! -MAX

I smiled slowly, wiping away the tears soaking my face. Mike opened the door slowly, and caught my stare.

"Ma'am? I looked up your fitrep. What's your eye color?" he said.

"Blue." I said, confused.

"Are you certain?" he said.

"Spit it out, Mike." I said.

"They're purple, ma'am."


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Oh snap. Awesome twist dirge, fucking awesome. MORE!


----------



## waltzmelancholy_07 (Sep 30, 2008)

Ordo Xeno Commander said:


> Oh snap. Awesome twist dirge, fucking awesome. MORE!


Hey OXC... When are you going to finish your stories?...


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

good point. I have been away from my computer for the last 8 days, so ill get on with that. As you may be able to tell, i dont have the same amount of spare time as dirge.


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

And seeing as I'm almost never on now, he has NO spare time.


----------



## Dessel_Ordo (Jul 28, 2008)

great twist man, keep it up!!!


----------



## Dirge Eterna (Apr 30, 2007)

HEROES
ISOS _Raven's Call_, En route to Serakan, Day 0 (Serakan Campaign Time), 1350 hours

And that's how it happened. After sixteen different tests, it was determined a delayed reaction to the Warp Resonator had caused minor mutations in my brain and eyes. I was declared fit for duty, with the solemn promise I would never tell a soul of what happened on Herodia IV. Mike stayed with me for sixteen days, eventually requesting a transfer to the personal guard of Lord Santiago in time for the assault on Devlin IV. As far as I know, the entire unit was KIA shortly after planetfall. My new recruit, Holly, performed better then I ever would have expected, and quickly became a trusted second. 

It's been three years since the day on Herodia IV with Max, but his helmet still sits on the _Raven's Call_'s cockpit dash, watching me. More importantly, it's reminding me of what we do in these wars. What we do, and what we should have done.

I leaned back in the cockpit seat, watching the wake angels drift around the ship's prow. Holly climbed into the slim cockpit and sat behind me in the gunner's seat.

"So, where are we going to next?" she asked. She wore full MkIV armor, painted a light shade of green. A plasma burn disfigured her left shoulder pad.

"Serakan." I said. A map popped on screen.

"Bit of an upset with the governor. They don't like him too much."

Holly nodded. "Assassination?"

I nodded. The young OPS gave an ISO smile, wiping her fingers across the visor of her helmet. I returned the gesture.

"So, what happened there?" she asked. She pointed to Max's helmet, a fine layer of dust covering it where I had left it, two years before. "I've asked you before, but you always duck the question."

I looked at the ground, and removed my helmet, looking at the trainee with my purple tainted eyes. 

"Something that involved one too many dead heroes for my liking." I said.

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

Great Thanks to All!!! You guys keep me going, that's for sure. Now with only TWENTY DAYS left in my tour, I'll be posting more often soon. So wish me luck! I'll take some time off between fics until the next one, a Fantasy one this time. See you then!

Sed onjer thorna et jyass!
-Dirge


----------



## Ordo Xeno Commander (Jan 17, 2007)

Brilliant Dirge. And congrats on your imminent return home, my total respect for you mate and what you've given up. I have total and utter respect for any military personnel currently serving, and you are no exception. Will be glad to have you home mate.


----------



## juddski (Nov 3, 2008)

excellent dirge


----------

