# Eternal Vengeance - reworked due to changes within GW backgrounding



## gothik (May 29, 2010)

Chapter one​

Jovotch watched dispassionately as the Marine in the colours of that buffoon Huron Blackheart was brought before him and forced onto his knees. He knew the history of this so called feared of pirate clan, a second-generation offshoot of the White Scars by the name of the Astral Claws.

He had no problem with this weak blood of the noble yet ultimately foolish Scars betraying their oaths to Primarch, Race and Emperor, he was glad that they had seen the light on such matters. He was however, disgusted that all these renamed Red Corsairs wanted to do was dominate and rule with no finesse…. that and profiteer from whatever piratical acts they could come up with.

He looked at his Apothecary, a pale faced giant by the name of Fulgar, a son of Chemos and a true son of Fulgrim, the same pale features and white hair that all true sons of Chemos sported.

“Get it ready brother” he simply spoke. 

Fulgar had showed little emotion when the spy had been brought before his Lord Commander, but when Jovotch spoke those words, the smile that crossed the Apothecary’s face was enough to chill the bones of a Chemos Terrackadon; a mighty predator that took its kills in mid-flight preferring to take it high up to continue feeding at leisure.

That thought drifted the Lord Commanders memory back to the world of Murder briefly; against giant spiders that flew as well as walked. He shook his head from the memory and returned to the task at hand. Several days ago word had come to him that the Heralds of Fulgrims 9th Company had been sent into the Mariana Section within the Eye of Terror at a request from Ceraxa Geshmala, the chapter master of the Angels of Ecstasy. 

They never returned. Word had it that they were led to their deaths by some alliance between the Angels and Blackheart and by chance Jovotch had discovered a spy within his own ranks. The Tyrant should have done his homework. Jovotch knew all his battle brothers under his command. He had made a point to know them all. Usually this would have been done by the masters’ own specialists in information gathering but he had wanted to do this.

Mandeaus had been most insistent that his favoured Lord Commander discover the truth and then deal with it. That had suited Jovotch fine, he was itching to get back at that second rate Scar for years just because his existence was yet another reminder of a broken Imperium of Man.

He crouched down and removed his cerise helmet that was decorated with not only the chapter symbol of a twisted snake over a tree but also adorned with words from the Tomb of Pleasure. A book in the hands of the Heralds said to have been written by Fulgrim himself and given to them by Varoisean before he left with his own band. It had taken Jovotch many hours to write those words onto his helmet in the tidy flowing script of Chemos and he did the artwork himself. When they had separated from the Legion he had repainted his armour himself. He would let none touch his armour, it had been his since the day he had become a true son of Fulgrim, and he would see to the alterations himself. 

He met the gaze of the Corsair and lifted his chin a little. He had some bruises and a black eye, cut lip, but no doubt they would heal. He looked over the armour and made a murmur of derision as he saw the faint outline of the famous red tear.

“So you were formally a Blood Angel” he snorted, “Tell me, how does a son of Sanguineous fall from his lofty perch and end up on his hands and knees before a pirate like Blackheart?”

“You’ll get nothing out of me Heretic,” The Marine snarled.

Jovotch laughed and his blue eyes twinkled at the irony “Brothers” He addressed the other three Heralds in the room with him. “He wears the colours of a traitor, he was a Blood Angel who joined the dogs of Huron and yet he calls me a heretic!” Jovotch got to his feet and spread his arms “How typically ironic that this piece of shit calls me a heretic.” 

Captains Joas and Benaslon chuckled at their Lord Commanders words. Joas sounded like a cross between a woman and a man in his mirth whereas Benaslon sounded like a Bear with a bad case of razor blades in his throat. Brother Captain Kelax, the commander of the Lord Commanders personal guard said nothing but allowed a slight smile of irony to cross his mouth. Jovotch kicked the Corsair with a well-aimed kick to the jaw sending teeth and blood flying. The satisfying snap of jawbone rang loud in the room too. 

“You are the heretic Corsair, you betrayed your gene father I never have. Get him out of my sight I will be in the isolation room shortly have him ready for when I get down there”

Jovotch watched, as his most trusted Captains Benaslon and Joas took the prisoner to the isolation room. He took several deep calming breaths and readied himself for the torture ahead this could take days. A cruel thin, humourless smile crossed his handsome features. He so hoped it would, with the recent death of Trousan at the hands of Lucius himself The Rapture needed something to get their hands and teeth into. 


Chapter two​

The Figure sat upon a throne of skin. Flayed skin from thirty thousand sacrifices in his name. It did not matter where the skin came from, Human, Eldar, Ork, Tau, it really did not matter, and it was the sign of his power that he had built this with his own bare hands. To his own war-band, The Soul Takers of Chemos he was a god. There were not many from his original company left. Some had died at the great siege on Terra herself, others had died against the Sons of Horus when they fought to reclaim their fathers body and others had died at the hands of Lucius or others over the years.

The once handsome features were now twisted with hate and ecstasy rolled into one. He was what historians would call the perfect serial killer. He once had the looks to swing into your heart but eyes that showed no mercy. He had orchestrated an alliance with the Angels of Ecstasy. The former chapter known as the Sons of Ulthunas betrayed their oaths and turned traitor during the Ganymethian Betrayal. He wondered if they were just renegades who wanted more power but when he had seen their worship to the great prince of darkness.

So when he had seen a reason to teach an old enemy a lesson, well he could not help but rope these fledglings in. He had them send a missive to The Heralds of Fulgrim asking for negotiations in an alliance against the Imperium. Once the 9th had got there, he had them slaughtered before his eyes. He would never forget the looks on their faces when they saw who the Angels were really in league with. Their skins were even now being prepared for his throne.

He sat back and allowed himself a sigh as he felt the skins across his bareback and closed his eyes as the voices of the tortured filled his minds. He had waited a while to avenge the slight of the 28th Grand Company and now he was going to make their sins against the Phoenician pay.

++++​
Jovotch got up from where he was sat as the Corsair was brought into the darkened room. He nodded and at his command the Corsairs arms were held behind his back and tied in adamantium chains his legs were pulled before him and tied at the ankles. 

Jovotch noted the bruises on the marines’ skin; he supposed Fulgar had his own unique way of removing the power armour and the carapace. He was not going to chastise his man for the treatment of the prisoner, for sure if it was the other way round then Blackheart would not show them any mercy.

He had heard how The Tyrant dealt with his own traitors and those that displeased him, so it made no odds to him about treating a Corsair any differently. Right now his prisoner was unconscious and that was fine for the moment. At a given word Benaslon and Joas moved to where two pulleys sat and began to turn them lifting the naked Corsair up and over to the object that sat in the centre of the room. As soon as he was over the top Jovotch heard him groan and folded his arms across his chest, his handsome face stone cold as his prisoner finally came round and realised his predicament. To give him is due he didn't look that terrified but then he had been a son of Baal, Jovotch would have expected nothing less of a former Blood Angel. 

“Tell me Cousin Verun” He asked calmly “Why did you forsake your oaths to the winged angel and take up with the Corsairs?”

Verun did not answer, just glared defiantly at the Lord Commander. Jovotch waved his hand dismissively.

“Ah no matter, to business then. You are aware I take it that once upon a time back in Terra's violent past, they used all sorts of techniques to extract the information they wanted” 

Again Verun did not answer but Jovotch continued heedless he did not care if the Corsair answered or not only that he listened. 

“Back in the days when the one god became the predominant religion he had an organisation pretty much like what the Imperium has now only crueller and more blood thirsty.

You are hovering over what was once called the Judas chair so named after a man that had betrayed the son of their god to the Romanii. You see the original Inquisition were far more...” he waved his hand in circles as if he was trying to find the right word “Insidious in their investigations’ and would condemn whole towns if needs be.”

He patted the side the chair and the grin on his face was a genuine affectionate expression. It stood about 2 meters off the ground four sided with the top tapered into a pyramid. Made of metal and the top had been sharpened into a vicious looking point, Verun did not miss the dried blood that sat around the sides of the device.

“The goal was to extract a confession or information they required and it worked. But only after hours or days of excruciating pain. Shall I explain how they did this? How is your human anatomy Corsair? Or do you only know how to kill?” 

Verun narrowed his eyes “Do your worst Emperors Child I am not afraid of you”

“And I am not an Emperors Child, not any-more; I haven't been one of them in ten thousand years by your calendar but maybe two or three hundred years by mine. Now as I was explaining, what they did was this, there is a spot between your testicles and your dick that is soft and full of nerve endings. Very slowly,” he nodded once and the Corsair was lowered towards the tip “They would sit their prisoner upon the tip just at this point of flesh, of course their prisoner would tense up waiting for the pain to arrive and when it did it remained.

They would be left on the top of the pyramid but of course no matter how much the body tenses to prevent sliding, gravity always wins and eventually the top would find its way through the soft flesh and up into their pelvic bone. Now of course we are genetically enhanced beings, we are Space Marines, pain is what we live for, to inflict it and grow stronger from it, unlike mortals we can still function when we lose an arm or leg whereas they would die from blood loss and shock in minutes.

However I am not only the Lord Commander of The Rapture, the third company of the Heralds of Fulgrim, I was once a Captain within the 28th Grand Company of the Emperors Children and I excelled at gathering information for not only my Lord Commander but my father too.”

He let a grin cross his features and perched back on his chair folding his arms across his chest.

“It is why I still do that now, I made a study of information gathering and I honed it to perfection so feel free to hold out as long as you want my friend, but eventually you will tell me what I want to know, that is why I am also known as the Interogator.”

He sat back as his marines tied off the chains and stepped neatly to either side of Jovotch.


----------



## gothik (May 29, 2010)

Chapter 3​
He sat listening to the sounds of battle outside the tower that belonged to him. Just by listening he could gage the emotions and sensations of the living and the dying. He had come a long way from his days in the Emperors Children. He rolled his eyes back and stroked the arm of his skin throne as the sounds of the dying reached into his subconscious not only stirring up his emotions but also taking him back to the Istvaan drop site massacre and the siege of Terra.

He shuddered as the sounds grew more mournful and the roars of the victors could infuse his senses to even more heights. As the experience began to fade he rose from his throne and crossed to the window. Below he saw his war band salute him with their trophies. They had taunted and fought against the Blood Drinkers of Khorne although some of their number were now with the great she/he god they followed.

He called down to the Apothecary to retrieve the gene-seed of their fallen number and the gene-seed of their enemy. He would send those to Abaddon. He cared little for the Warmaster of Chaos but it didn't hurt to be on his good side for when he wanted something doing. He watched as his orders were carried out and clasped his hands behind his back he had no intentions of moving from here until he thought necessary after all, some lessons took a while to be learnt and then savoured. He turned at the cough behind him to see Captain Fragor of the Angels of Ecstasy. His former allegiance The Skin Taker cared little for or showed little interest in. They were nothing to him, a lesser chapter created in lesser times.

“Yes Captain?” He was bored and his voice showed it.

Fragor stepped back well aware that the Skin Taker, when he was bored, could easily vent his boredom on anyone no matter what allegiance they were. 

“We are ready as per your orders Lord” He bowed deeply. 

The Skin Taker nodded and retook his throne lounging suggestively upon it. He rested his head back and lolled it to meet the gaze of the Angel before him. 

“And what off the Corsair we left behind?”

“He was taken captive as you expected lord”

The Skin Taker nodded this was good news and this was the way to plan revenge. He hoped that the Corsair he had implanted into the ranks of the Heralds would break soon enough. Less he gets bored and turns on the Angels of Ecstasy to state his blood lust and sensation needs. Not that he cared much about that but it would put a slight dent in his plans. He waved the rather relieved Astartes away and sat pondering his need for revenge.

He had heard how The Heralds of Fulgrim as they called themselves now, had battled long after the rest of the children had gone into the eye. They had not followed, preferring to remain in Imperial space and striking hard at the heart of the false god. It might have pleased him to know that his former brothers were continuing the work that Horus and their own father had started but that blasted Mandeaus had got cocky. He had dared to say that only his company were staying true to Fulgrims ideals of perfection. His fist clenched as he felt his choler rise at the thought. Brother they may once have been but now, now they were his to crush and destroy and maybe he would take command of the rest of them and lead them on his own crusade of perfection.



Chapter 4​


Verun gritted his teeth as the pain grew more than he had ever known in his life. He had been sat on this archaic contraption for days and as the point of the chair had broken his skin it mattered not about his healing. Every time his genetic make-up allowed the healing to begin the point of the chair would just rip it open once more and this last time he could not help but let a roar of pain erupt from his mouth.

What had made it more unbearable was that every time he thought he had defeated the chair he was turned by Joas and Benaslon so that the pain could begin anew. There was only so much he could stand and he was reaching the end of his superhuman tolerance. It would have been better if they had lobbed his limbs off.

Jovotch came back in the room and walked up to the chair. He saw the tears of pain that fell from the Corsairs eyes and arched an eyebrow “Are you ready to tell me what I want to know Corsair?” 

Verun just wanted the pain to end, he wanted to die for to betray the man who had sent him here he was dead anyway but this, this was more than even an Astartes could bare and for the first time in his two hundred years he suddenly got an inkling of what happened to those Marines who had turned against the Emperor and been found. He nodded and at a gesture from the Lord Commander he was lifted off the chair. The sound of wood escaping from the hole it had created was akin to a vacuum and the blood that poured from the wound coated the tip and ran in droplets down the face and edges,

Verun screamed as his body came free and was lowered to the floor. Jovotch sat down beside him and crossed his legs and now his tone took a gentler cadence.

“Tell me cousin what I need to know and I will end your suffering” 

“He will – will be expecting you”

“Let me worry about that cousin, you have done yourself proud, held out longer then even I expected but now it is time for your suffering to end. Now warrior, tell me what happened to the 9th what did the Angels of Ecstasy and Huron Blackheart do to them?”

Verun laughed a little but when Jovotch went to motion for him to be risen again he raised his hand and the Lord Commander paused.

“I was the Tyrants liaison to the Angels of Ecstasy but they made alliance with another, one that has a grudge against you and your chapter master”

The only interest that Jovotch showed was a slight twitch of his eyebrow. He had already worked out that there was a grudge at stake so this was nothing new to him; all he wanted to know was who it was if it was not that damnable pirate king;

“I disobeyed Huron’s orders and remained with the Angels, believing their new found alliance to be the perfect way to strike back at the corpse god, to teach the humans that their god is false and we are the true protectors of the universe.”

Verun gave a sickly smile and Jovotch called the Apothecary over to administer something to him to keep him alive long enough for the Lord Commander to learn what he needed to know.

“So, had you returned to the Badab bastard you would be killed?” Verun nodded weakly 

“But the Skin Taker promised me a place of glory, where I could taste the blood once more and ordered me into your ranks”

“The what,” Jovotch asked “Is that what this would be avenger is calling himself?”

Verun nodded “He calls himself the Skin Taker and he leads a war band by the name of the Soul Takers of Chemos. All from his former Company and he wants The Heralds of Fulgrim gone for crimes against your father”

Jovotch let the Marines head fall to the floor as he got up. He clenched his massive gauntlets slowly until the muscles in his arms and his power armour responded to the emotion. Combat drugs began to fuel through his system but he controlled them lashing out at a wall and broke a hole into it.

“Where is he?” Jovotch quietly asked “With the Angels?” 

Verun tried sitting up and uncharacteristically Joas helped him stand but whether it was the flame of honour that allowed this broken marine to stand with some degree of self-honour or the fact he liked the idea of the wounds the marine suffered being more pained no one knew.

“Hold on to me Verun,” He whispered and although his voice sent a tremor down Veruns spine he was in no condition to refuse.

“The planet Argelus in the Lawless Straits” Verun closed his eyes a moment his treachery done then asked, “You look as if you know him”

“Oh I know him all right” Jovotch snarled and turned to face the Corsair once more “Have Fulgar tend to his wounds”

“Are you not going to kill me?” Verun sounded displeased with the idea of staying alive. If the Heralds won against this Skin Taker and his war band then Huron would hunt him down for failing to obey his orders.

Jovotch moved towards him and held his chin in his hand “Your body is broken Verun, it will not heel with the damage done internally to it, however your mind is still sharp and in that regard I have a space for you where you will serve the dark goddess for all eternity. I do you an honour for surviving my chair for as long as you did, you will wish that I had killed you Corsair but until the time the gods see fit to take you away from this place and into theirs you will serve them for all eternity”

Verun frowned then his eyes widened, as Jovotchs words suddenly became clarity in his mind. He shook his head in a mix of denial and anger. As he was taken away Jovotch watched him go.

They always expected him to kill them, why on earth would he do that, when Fulgar had seen to his ministrations he would be put to sleep and then when he awoke he would be entombed in a sarcophagus and serve within a Dreadnought

Jovotch turned to Kelax and shrugged a little “To serve eternally in a blessed Dreadnought? I would have thought he would be pleased at that idea”

“Would you be?” Kelax queried.

“If the gods willed it” Jovotch replied and strode towards the chamber of the Master himself.

“Halter” Kelax called and the Lord Commander paused “Is this Skin Taker one of the old guard, Eidolen perhaps?”

Jovotch shook his head “You will find out soon enough Deran,” 

He continued on his way leaving his friend with a confused and perplexed expression on his face.

++++​
Jovotch waited for his master to call him in. it did not bode well for anyone to enter the Chapter Masters chambers without his permission. After a moment he was called in and stepped aside as the servants to the Master came out walking backwards, their heads bowed and eyes floor bound. 

“Come in Halter, I trust you have good news for me?”

He walked in and moved down to one knee, his head bowed and waited. His Master bid him to rise and Jovotch did so. His helm under his arm, his eyes front and centre. 

Elias Mandeaus was indeed a powerful figure. Like all the Emperors Children who had followed their father into damnation he believed in the power of Slannesh. What he did not hold with was the false assumption that She-Who-Thirsts was a pleasure god alone. There was many ways to serve her, skill of arms, perfection of body and soul, knowledge of art and music all this and more.

Mandeaus had been one of the Lord Commanders who would engage their father on topics of art and music classical and otherwise. But his strength was always in his prosecution of war and as such it was always perfect and always as the Primarch wished it. In a way The Heralds of Fulgrim was like a mini legion of its own. The former 28th grand company had been split into new companies with Mandeaus as the Chapter Master and yet looking upon him Jovotch could almost see their father with them once more.

Of course that was impossible as their father was now a Demon Prince and raiding on a world of pleasure so hidden that if any of the Emperors Children had found a way to him, none of them returned to tell the other brothers where it was. But looking upon his master his hearts ached to be in the company of their father once more. Mandeaus was a giant of a man and even in the days of the Great Crusade had to have a special suit of armour made for him.

His white hair hung in a topknot over his head like some helmet plume and his face was inked with the words of the Primarch. He sat himself on his throne and sat forward. Jovotch was his favoured commander as Eidolen had been Fulgrims. 

“Did he break?”

When Mandeaus spoke it was with the wisdom of centuries and a smooth voice that enabled him to sway many to his fight. The 28th had adored him so when he had told them that they would remain to carry out their father’s wishes and not fall back like their brothers and cousins, the company had followed his lead.

“He did my lord” Jovotch confirmed.

“Is he dead?”

“No lord I ordered for him to be readied to lie within a Dreadnought I thought it fitting that he serves the mistress better that way”

Mandeaus chuckled and sat back in his throne “Halter, you punish betrayal very seriously”

“He was a Blood Angel turned Corsair, I had no wish to see his suffering ended lord” Jovotch replied “There is however fruits from this”

“Yes tell me...who killed my beloved 9th Company?”

Jovotch adjusted his stance a little measuring his words carefully “The Skin Taker my lord”

Mandeaus set down the goblet he was raising and was silent for a long time. Too long in fact and Jovotch thought his master was going to say nothing at all.

“So,” He finally spoke “He has returned has he? I did not see much more of him after Istvaan III”

“I believe he was at the Siege my lord but he was not at the Emperors Palace.”

Mandeaus rose from his throne and stepped down the bone-crafted steps. He moved to where the banner for the 28th swung proudly in his hall and touched it.

“And now he seeks to teach us a lesson my brother, is that correct?” Jovotch nodded “You have reason to bring his head to my table”

“If I can catch him lord” Jovotch reminded his master “Even Lucius could not seek him out and Eidolen well...we all know what happened to him”

Mandeaus made a murmur of agreement. The once proud Eidolen, the favoured of the Primarch slaughtered by his masters own hand and his head adorned as warning to all the Children of Fulgrim of punishment for daring to question his orders.

“Take The Rapture and teach these upstarts a lesson they will never forget” He ordered fingering the hem of the company banner once more “and teach that bastard the true perfection of war...it would seem that he has forgotten much in his own decadence.”

Jovotch bowed deeply and turning smartly strode from the chambers of the Chapter Master. Mandeaus clasped his hands behind his back and looked out from his chamber to the world he ruled.

Normally he would have taken respite in the beautiful skies and the colours that adorned them as an artist takes pride in his work but this time, this time he could feel nothing. He had lost one man to the old guard who did not listen to Jovotchs words and now there was another who sought to teach them how to war. He cursed in the dead language of Chemos and banged his clenched fist against the wall. He would ready his own fortress should that bastard come here to settle more old scores.


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## gothik (May 29, 2010)

Chapter 5,​
New Carax was a world that was as close to perfection as The Heralds of Fulgrim could get it. The irony was that The Heralds had brought this world to compliance back when they were the 28th Grand Company of the Emperors Children. Being so far from the watchful eyes of Terra and thus its laws, after the Heresy and the subsequent wars that plagued the Imperium after the death of the Emperor, it did not take long for all the once meticulously kept records to just, fade away. The Heralds of Fulgrim retook the world from the Imperium and moulded it into their own, killing the Imperium loyal forces. Mandeaus ordered that the host take over the old barracks and then had it redesigned to a fortress befitting a company of Astartes. It had taken decades to change the world into a world worthy of perfection in the eyes of the great Dark Prince. Mandeaus ensured that the great-forested north continent was kept feral thus making recruitment easier.

That way when it came to recruitment it meant that he had a clean slate to work from, he would teach them the perfection of war, whilst imparting within them the cult of Slannesh and yet, he could still keep their ferocity. When it came to fighting the corpse gods warriors then sometimes feral worked better than finesse and if you taught a former barbarian the correct way to fight, then you might have the perfect warrior.

Jovotch strode out of the Chapel dedicated to the mighty Dark Prince and stood looking at the fortress of Colour. Its walls were sturdy and although it is not what say the Iron Warriors or Imperial Fists would have done, but the indentured workers had done a mighty job. Slaves from the raiding parties they had made over the first few years of their own crusades had done all the hard labour. Now he looked upon the walls and felt the soothing touch of the Dark Prince upon his soul. The walls had been consecrated with the sacrifice of a thousand slaves all in varying stages of sensations, sexual, drug, or battle. The walls had taken on a life of their own and the sandstone yellow had become the colours of their lord.

The walls had an almost silken touch to them and sounds of the sacrificed would moan in pleasure and terror when the wind blew in certain direction. With the sight of the Tower of the Phoenician in his heart he went to gather The Rapture. 

It was time to go hunting.

++++​

The Skin Taker watched dispassionately as the prisoners were brought down from his last raiding party. They had no idea of the honour that was about to be done them. To enter the halls of she-who-thirsts as a slave to his whims and desires or to be used as experiments for the masters stimuli. They were a pathetic looking bunch, he had ordered them not to be harmed they were for the dark prince and the dark prince alone. The last time someone had disobeyed his orders he had them interned in a dreadnought.

Now Brother Acheman, like the other dreadnoughts was chained in the darkness of his vessel. There he lost whatever sensibility he had and he would fight in the service of the dark prince and his master when he and he alone decided.

Watching the slaves now he saw their dirty faces, he had ordered the boys separated from their parents, they would be the future of his warband and they would be the ones he could mould into future servants of the great she-who-thirsts. The girls he had kept back, not only as concubines but also, with the right guidance and of course help from Fabius maybe his own cadre of women warriors. The adults below clung to each other like frightened rabbits. He made a disgusted sound deep in his throat, these were nothing of the humans he had once fought alongside, and they at least had strength of spirit. He stepped onto his balcony and addressed not only his brothers but also their allies.

“There is war coming,” He announced, “We will fight against the so called Heralds of Fulgrim to remind them who the supreme warriors of the dark prince are. When we are victorious then they shall become one with us and we can start our part in the long war once more.”

His warriors cheered him and he outstretched his arms acknowledging their adulation. As it should be and as it always was.


++++​

The Heat of Pleasure emerged around a world that at first glance looked like some great white orb hanging in the vacuum as a single light bulb in an ever-darkening room. Jovotch turned to the human commander of his vessel, a man that wore the insignia of a former Admiral of the Gothic battle fleet but now, after decades of being part of the Human subjects of The Heralds of Fulgrim he was now interned into his command throne.

Stimulants of all variants rushed through his veins making his body react in only the way human bodies reacted. He was not just at one with his ship; he was joined in more ways than believed possible with his ship. Her gentle caresses would stimulate him and the rage of her battle lust would bring him to battle quickly. 

“Admiral Kelara”

The Admiral turned his head “My Lord” he replied in a voice that was just off being lost forever in the sensations he was now feeling and had been feeling since he joined the traitor chapter. 

“How is the spirit of our most blessed vessel?”

“She is – eager to teach the upstarts a lesson Lord as are we all”

“Good, be so kind as to bring her into the dark side of the moon, allow us time to prepare the Rapture and then we will descend to bring our vengeance and the true teachings of our mistress to those who think they know better than us”

“As you will it Lord”

“Kelara keep the weapons primed and ready I want all the gunnery crews working tirelessly…any who do not…” he turned to look at the humans who dispensed the law of the Admiral and by that extension the law of Jovotch to those who did not do as he asked “well you know what to do”

“It shall be done Lord”

Jovotch left the bridge and headed for where his company stood waiting.


++++​

“The man we are hunting is now known across the galaxy as the Skin Taker but once he was one of our greatest kinsmen. He was alongside the Primarch when they took the world of the Lear. He has surfaced once or twice over the years but always vanishing before anyone could catch him and it is my belief that he is starting to build his own power base”

Jovotch walked up the line of the Astartes who stood to attention listening to their commanders’ words. 

“He is believed to be a lieutenant of the Warmaster of chaos himself although, knowing his relationship in the before times with Abaddon I highly doubt that. A master of art and music he always made sure that he was well read and had the best knowledge of most cultural aspects that came his way.

I do not know if we will capture him but we can teach him a lesson, the glorious 9th, the Heartbreakers, the other of our masters favoured companies cry out for it so let us send these would be warriors of she-who-thirsts back to our dead kinsmen to play with in whatever way they see fit.”

He glanced up as he saw the Dreadnaughts, chained and yet straining at their leashes like attack dogs that had not been fed for days. In a way he supposed that is what they were like. 

Their food was battle and unlike their weak Emperor following lapdogs they were not bound by such intricacies as loyalty to a dead corpse, they were loyal to the gods of war, they wanted to kill and that’s all they were good for. He was especially pleased to see the newest addition to the Raptures Dreadnaught brothers. He had stood by and waited as the former Corsair had been awoken from his self-induced sleep only to hear him scream in terror at the darkness that had engulfed him. His mind was already broken from the Judas Chair this had just finished the job. 

He rested a hand on Veruns casket “We have a new brother to welcome and he will find the taste of battle as do all our honoured dead, intoxicating” he let the last word drag out a little.

“We hunt for the Skin Taker and his bastard warband but we are really hunting for Karesoian,” The brothers looked to each other at the name fallen from their Commanders lips “Our fallen First Captain. Return to your squads we descend in a short while and say your prayers to the mistress do not release your combat drugs until we are planet side…. any who do will have me to deal with after”

The Astartes Snapped to attention as Jovotch called out “For the honour of our mistress!”

“Present her the Rapture of her being” They chorused back and filed away to the waiting Stormbirds.


Chapter 6.​

Everything was silent. Nothing moved it was as if the world was waiting for, something. The Skin Taker flexed his muscles as his serfs reverently attached his new cloak of skin. This was the skin of the 9th Company’s Captain and what a skin it was. The man had been a well-built individual with centuries of scars to prove his leadership mettle. 

He had even fought as an Emperors Child should have done but in the end, it had done him no good. For what had started off as trophy taking had become an art in skin ripping. Any new addition to his warband first had to go through the initiation, a sliver of skin removed from their cheeks in the symbol of the former 1st Company. Then it was burnt with hot pokers to ensure that it would remain there and not healed by the laramen cells. 

They were taught the ways of the former First Captain and taught how to carve the skin without leaving bloody chunks and all this had to be done whilst the victim was alive, that way the thrill of the kill and the excitement and sensation of listening to them cry out or curse them, which invariably they did if they were Astartes of another Legion loyalist or otherwise, would be that much more potent.

Finally they were ready to join the vaulted ranks of the Soul Takers of Chemos. Of course, he had to test them as well to ensure they were what he was looking for. Some survived the experience and others did not and even though they had not survived the final test, their souls he envied for they were with the Dark Prince and by his side in eternal sensation.

How he envied them but that did not mean he had any intentions of following them. He turned to his Captain, Donaster. The man was the pride and joy of the Skin Taker his uniform had many grisly trophies’ hanging from the spikes that rose from his back. Ears, skulls hands and yet the greatest trophies was a pair of eyes set into his armour. Taken from an Iron Hand warrior when they crossed swords some twenty years ago. With the fell magic’s of the company librarian Tomas the eyes were implanted into the armour of the company champion and would forever see the death and destruction that the Captain wrought across the worlds of the Imperium. 

Now as he too looked to the skies of this lawless and blighted world he felt that he could see his enemy coming. He hoped Mandeaus had lost none of his fighting spirit that had made the man such an envied Lord Commander. It would be an honour to fight one with some skill other than those he had skinned in his long existence. Unlike mortals he did not fear death, and even loyalist marines only feared death if it were not worthy of the so-called Angels of Death of the Emperor.

A wasted forgotten death was un-heroic and forgettable. To him however and others like him it was only a new sensation to savour. He had often wondered what his own death would feel like, when after all this time he had felt nothing but others deaths. His own would be the absolute of sensations and he was secure that he had served the Dark Mistress completely and he would revel in what she offered him in death but until then she would reward him in other ways as he would continue to serve her.

He turned to his inner circle and nodded once. It was time to prepare and he had the slaves brought forward. Fight with honour he had said and he would reward them with a quick death, fight with cowardice and their deaths would be slow and painful. This was what he was made for and this was what he had waited for. To bring punishment to one company who had not followed their father, he was going to enjoy this.

++++​
First the sound of two thousand boots snapped to attention, waiting for their Lords words. Second at a given flash on their visor displays all manner of combat stimulants began to flood their system. Some let out sighs as their preferred vices wormed their way through their system, heightening their senses and allowing them to hear the heart beats of their enemies. Others swayed a little, as their bodies became pure combat ready. 

Jovotch and his two senior Captains, Joas and Benaslon kept a reign on their stimulants for the moment and the Lord Commander pointed to the first town they could see.

“Let’s wipe them out and let the Skin Taker know that we are here” He bellowed.

Two thousand men at his back roared their affirmation and only when they had started their move towards the town did he let his own stimulants flood his body.


The Dreadnaughts howled in an insane cacophony that made the humans that lived here fall to their knees, their hands over bleeding ears and eyes. The Rapture took the town quickly and violently. Buildings burnt with people still in them, the screeches and pleas of those looking for mercy filled the air. The sound was made more poignant when they realised there would be no mercy. Sergeant Cadiz grabbed one woman and with his teeth ripped her throat out, the jerking of her body causing his senses to go into hyper drive and the violence of her death stirring the battle drugs to even more frenzied heights.

He dropped her body to the floor and with the point of his sword carved the mark of the Dark Mistress into her twitching body. Jovotch watched his Sergeant as he took another three or four women in the same way, sending them to the Mistress for her halls,

His teeth had become almost fang like lately and he lived for the taste of blood but not in the way that would be associated with the barbarous blood fighters of Khorne. He seemed to get off on the fear that was in their blood and despite seeing what had happened to those before them, his victims came willingly to him.

“Lord!” Boras, his voice heavy with the thrill of the hunt pointed “They come!”

Jovotch was shaken from his musings as the sight of the Angels of Ecstasy came towards them but not just them. The Lord Commander gripped his sword and his bolter as he saw the Soul Takers of Chemos and their leader. He snarled under his breath and ordered the Dreadnaughts released in front of them. 

Let them have the first kill it would be a massacre but he wanted the Skin Taker, he owed him and some debts took a while to claim and if she was with them today then he would claim this bastards head.

“Get into position” He ordered “Time to avenge the 9th” His warriors stopped what they were doing and got into pre-ordained positions. Joas glanced at his Lords face and knew what this was about.

This was what Halter had waited for, and one way or another it would finish here. Revenge was a powerful emotion and one that he had honed to perfection but he prayed that his friend would remember above all who the Skin Taker was before the fall. That he was one of the elite and in that he had an advantage over the Lord Commander. Karesoian was not just some elevated demon prince, he was still a warrior without equal, he was still classed as the First Captain, and he was not going to be a push over.

++++​
Verun roared his anger at his fate, his mind descending into spirals of madness as he realised his predicament. He was hardwired into the sarcophagus wires plunged into his head, arms, legs, and torso. That was not what had driven him into madness; it was the eternal voices of the Dreadnaughts chaos infused demonic spirit.

The spirit would fill his every waking moment with images of how life should be, how much the powers of Chaos gave to loyal followers of theirs and what they did to followers of the Corpse God. He screamed and roared as the images assailed him further and in a fit of uncontrollable battle rage he turned his mighty chain gun and battle-axe on those closest to him. 

Jovotch smiled as the newest addition to the Raptures Dreadnaughts slaughtered his way through the enemy and when he came face to face with a maddened Skin Takers Dreadnaught he put several shots through the sarcophagus, when it had fallen he stood on it and continued hacking away at it with his battle axe. The scent of blood assaulting the former Blood Angel and Jovotch once more saw the bloodlust that was the hidden shame of the Blood Angels emerge. By the end of this battle, whatever was left of former Blood Angel Verun would be in eternal service to Chaos. 

“Come little one, face me now”

Jovotch turned to see the Skin Taker hold the head of a Rapture battle brother and toss it to one side. Almost immediately his memory went back to Istvaan IV, and for a moment he stood lost in the memory.


Jovotch stood before the warrior, with the madness all around them it was hard to determine who was friend and who was foe. 

_“Come with me Kelva,” He had implored “Our father can lead us to a future of perfection.”

“No I will not Halter, this is madness there is no more perfect being then the Emperor and I will not fail in my duty to him even going against the orders of our father.”

“The Phoenician is perfection brother” Jovotch told him sternly.

“No brother, when the time comes I will join Captain Tarvitz and fight for the soul of the legion. Surely you must know what strangeness this is, it is wrong and it is not like our father, he has never turned against his father.”_

_“Kelva have I ever steered you wrong? In our childhood did I not do what our father asked of us?”

Kelva Jovotch shrugged sadly “You are my blood kin and I love you brother but I cannot join you.”

Jovotch bowed his head “Then leave here, take a shuttle and leave here so that you can think on what you have forsaken”

Halter turned and walked away, some ties were stronger than even the ties of battle brothers. A few days later in the heat of the battle against those who would side with the Emperor and not follow the decree of the Warmaster, he found the First Captain.

Karesoian stood up and looked at Jovotch he smiled a little as he licked his lips “His death was hard won you should be proud of that at least but I take a token now Halter and let it be a lesson to you.”

The enraged battle brother stared as the skinned body of his brother lay at his feet and the insane laughter of the First Captain rang in his ears.

“There will be a reckoning between us bastard!” He swore as his battle brothers swept him away from the field of battle so that the viral bombs could be unleashed. _

His focus returned to the here and now and before him the gloating figure of Julius Karesoian – the so-called Skin Taker of Chemos - taunted him once more. With a roar he ran at the former First Captain, for aside from the Word Bearers there were no more full legions, every one of them had fallen into war bands He owed him nothing.

No allegiance nothing but revenge for his fallen blood kin.


----------



## gothik (May 29, 2010)

Chapter 7​
The battle seemed to morph into slow motion. Both sides appeared to stop as the Lord Commander of the Rapture and the former First Captain clashed. Despite the enmity between the two of them there was not one of the battle brothers who watched who could say without lies that they were watching a perfect battle.

Having served together before the fall they both knew each other’s moves and there was not repost or lunge that was not countered or blocked. The Skin Taker laughed to finally meet his equal and to all intense and purposes enjoyed the sport, even when the Lord Commander nicked his skin he would not be drawn into a vengeful strike.

Scars were to be worn with pride besides it would take more than the young whelp to mar what was left of his once handsome features. Jovotch danced back as Karesoian came for a strike and lifting his sword arm up and under he got underneath the First Captains guard then drove his elbow into his enemies’ stomach knocking the wind out of him. He let the combat drugs flood his system stirring him onto greater heights and making him impervious to the world around him, just focusing on what was in hand for him now. 

The battlefield rang to the clash of arms, the crack of bolter fire, the whirr of chainswords and power swords, and the roars of the insane. To Jovotch this was a harmony that stirred his soul and by looking into the faces of ally and enemy alike he could not help but be stirred by their rousing battle lust. He ducked as the First Captain now bored with the fight started to come at him with all the aggression he had been famous for and not to mention the finesse that he was noted for. Jovotch howled as the chainsword seared through his armour and pierced the skin.

“Now” Karesoian sneered, “As I killed your genetic blood brother, I will kill you and it will be most exquisite”

Jovotch strained against the weight of the warrior, his system flooded with combat stims as well as pain dulling stims.

He gritted his teeth and snarled in response, his voice heavy with the influence of his drugs. “Not this time bastard betrayer” with what strength the stims were giving him and ignoring everything else around him he took his chainsword and drove it up and into the First Captain. Jovotch grinned as he saw the expression on the face of the Skin Taker, a mix of shock and horror that someone could actually do this but before Jovotch could press his victory home he was thrown into the air by an explosion from a nearby Krak grenade.

He raised his head to see the Soul takers lift their Lord up and bear him away, retreating in a proscribed retreat from the battlefield according to Emperors Children Doctrine lain down thousands of years ago. Whatever else they had become they were still Emperors Children. Jovotch felt his vision cloud over and as he passed into unconsciousness he saw Verun come for him and lift him into his arms then bear him away.

++++​
Jovotch came to on a Medicare bed to see the Chapter Master standing by his bedside. He went to sit up but a steady hand lay him back down.

“I have failed my lord” He lowered his gaze.

“How exactly did you fail me Halter?” 

“The bastard got away!”

“With the wound you gave him? I suspect it will be a while before he is knocking on our door again” Mandeaus clasped his hands behind his back “They left the Angels of Ecstasy to fend for themselves you know?”

“No Lord, I did not know that”

“Well they did and I doubt the Angels if there are any left will be making the same mistakes again.”

Jovotch nodded and relished the thought that maybe they would fight in battle against them again, the next time he would destroy them utterly and offer their souls to the great Goddess himself. 

Mandeaus turned as the Apothecary came in and acknowledged the respectful bow then stepped back. They had been unable to save Halters arm so they had grafted a vat grown one back on. This was a fantastic piece of work and looked like any normal warriors arm, except it was covered in ripples of cerise and purple, infused with a demonic strength. Brother Apothecary Fulgar had done a wonderful job.

He watched as Fulgar told Jovotch to raise his new arm and inspected every inch of the new limb and nodded here and there. His white hair tied in dreadlocks that ended in poisoned barbs. His dark eyes roved the graft and nodded to himself one final time, impressed with the apparent success he bowed his head again and returned to the less favourable duty of extracting the gene seed from those who had died. Mandeaus bent forward and whispered in Jovotchs ear then left the stunned Lord Commander alone.

++++​
The hall was silent. The ancients and their younger brother’s all slept although how one could call it sleep was anyone’s guess. Even in rest their dreams were of battles long gone or a decade since depending on their incarnation. Jovotch moved towards the newest addition to the ancients and cocked his head a little. He had found it difficult to believe that the former Blood Angel had saved his life. He had promised him death but instead had put him in the living hell that was a dreadnaught of Chaos.

“Why?” he wondered aloud and was surprised by the motion of the younger dreadnaught as it shifted in its space.

“Because in a way you have given me life eternal with a purpose my life is now yours and my allegiance is now yours” Veruns voice was quiet.

Jovotch arched an eyebrow. “You sound quite lucid? It is my understanding that you go insane in there”

“When one has been through the thirst and come out the other side you get a better perspective on life my lord”

Jovotch had to admit that he had a point “So tell me Verun, while your mind is still lucid, I am curious, you know why we broke away from the Imperium but why did you?”

Verun was silent and Jovotch thought he was not going to reply but when he did all he said was “My brothers marked me as a penitent” and that was all he got. He did not ask anymore.

“You have new brothers now, embrace the Dark Prince and you will find glory in her name Verun” Jovotch turned and went to walk away then stopped and half turned “Thank you for saving my life brother and welcome to the Rapture”

“Is he dead? The Skin Taker” Verun asked.

Jovotch heaved a sigh “I doubt it”

As he walked away the room descended into darkness once more and the Dreadnaught fell silent.


----------

