Heart Attack - 40K Chaos in English
Lähetetty: To 02.10.2003 15:04
Heart Attack
The speeding, white stripes turned into bright stars, as the heavy starcruiser Broken Heart emerged from the Warp to realspace. A tall, power-armoured figure stood on the command bridge, admiring the view from the main window in almost breathless awe. In his eight thousand years of practising visual arts, he could never compete with Mother Nature in the art of beauty.
Eight thousand years, thought Captain Cardius Fractus. Eight thousand years. And most of the time was not spent painting or sculpting. No, it was spent on the battlefield. The Captain was a born warrior, a Space Marine, and warfare was his life. Even so, the little spare time he had was spent creating, not destroying. Like all Blood Angels and members of their Successor Chapters, Captain Fractus was a skilled artist. And with a lifetime longer than any mortal’s, his skills were rivalled only by the eternal universe itself.
His Chapter, Heart Breakers, was one of the Successors of the Blood Angels Legion, created after the Horus Heresy from the gene-seed of the fallen Primarch Sanguinius. His Chapter was the first one to show signs of the curse of the Black Rage.
The Inquisition and the priests of the Ministorum did not understand. They thought it was a mutation, a foul touch of Chaos, but the Heart Breakers knew better. They had been chosen by Sanguinius to tell the truth, the truth about the Betrayal. The Inquisition had not believed.
Their homeworld, Ventricle, had been cleansed by the Exterminatus, all life had been annihilated in case it was something inthe indigenous life forms that caused the rage. The Inquisition thought the problem had been solved. How wrong they were!
Following a vision granted by Sanguinius Himself, two Companies of Heart Breakers had left their world to find evidence for their claims. It was on the eve of the fulfilment of their quest, when they had just reached their destination, a small, lifeless world near the Maelstrom when they heard the news of their homeworld. Enraged, everyone on board swore a holy oath to exact revenge upon the minions of the Traitor. It was then that He appeared.
From a planet bearing no life he flew on angel wings, a giant wearing robes the colour of blood, a man of unearthly beauty. He landed in front of the Captain, who fell on his knees before his Lord Sanguinius.
The winged angel spoke without words to Captain Fractus, sending his emotions through the link established between them in the sacred rites of Insanguination. He told the Captain of the Betrayal, of what really happened in the last days of Horus Heresy. He told the Captain of the Betrayal of Rogal Dorn.
The Imperial Palace was under siege, and the eternal Gate was just about to break under the might of Chaos. It was then that the enemy made his mistake by letting the Emperor, blessed be His name, and his most trusted lieutenants teleport aboard his flagship. Among these had been Sanguinius and Rogal Dorn.
Sanguinius and the Emperor did battle against the Great Enemy, while Dorn held back and watched, waiting for his opportunity. In the end, Sanguinius lay dying in the feet of his Lord, and the Emperor Himself was wounded and weak, but together the two had succeeded, they had destroyed the traitorous Warmaster Horus. Seeing his chance, Dorn quickly disabled the Emperor and carried Him back to Earth, leaving Sanguinius for dead. Back on Earth, Dorn imprisoned the Emperor in a stasis field, which is today known by the ignorant pawns of Dorn as the Golden Throne. He is guarded by Dorn’s own Legion, the Imperial Fists, and the true ruler of the Imperium is the man who betrayed his Emperor at the moment of victory.
This is the truth of the Betrayal, as told by the angel to the Captain. Sanguinius told that he had miraculously survived his wounds, but was too weak to follow and challenge Dorn, surrounded as he was with his minions and holding the Emperor hostage. So he hid to gather his power, to see his children grow and strengthen, until his time had come. Then, almost eight thousand years ago, he had summoned the most loyal of his sons, the Heart Breakers, to come and find him from his lifeless hideout. It would then be the time to strike back at the pretender.
Alas, the traitor saw what was coming and ordered his forces to retaliate upon the Heart Breakers when their fleet and their finest warriors were abroad, destroying their home and almost eight hundred battle-brothers in a cowardly strike. Instead of openly challenging Rogal Dorn and his traitorous minions, the sons of Sanguinius had to resort to guerrilla warfare, lightning strikes against weak targets and rapid withdrawals before the might of the rotten Imperium. Led by the living Primarch himself, the Heart Breakers fought with relentless fury, drinking the blood of countless enemies of the Beneficial Emperor, but they were too few in numbers. Now, the war had lasted for eighty centuries, and was showing no sign of ending.
Cardius was tired. Tired of the endless fighting. He did not ask why he was still alive, when no mortal had ever lived as long as he had. He could see the mutating effect of the Warp in his men, the grinning faces on their shoulder pads, their skull-like helmets and the red glow in their eyes. Even his mighty flagship had twisted into a monstrous behemoth slowly drifting through the Warp and realspace alike, reaping a horrible harvest in its wake. Deep within he knew their Chapter was doomed. He never questioned the orders of his Lord, but in his own heart he was beginning to question the purpose of this all.
His men numbered only a few hundred. Even though they had successfully recruited new warriors from worlds they had conquered, created new Space Marines from the gene-seed of the living Primarch, they had inevitably suffered losses in their endless war. Only a handful of the Captain’s old battle-brothers had survived, and they were as tired as he was. It was only the sight of the winged angel before them that made them fight with the vigour of the young, the sight of their Primarch Sanguinius leading them to battle. Yet it was the sight of the younger Brothers that made the Captain worry most, for they had no restraints in their thirst for blood; even the most fanatical followers of the Emperor, not even the raving lunatic World Eaters, had never been so hungry for fresh slaughter.
As Cardius snapped out of his thoughts he saw the very creature he had been thinking of in front of him. Standing motionless on the solid plasteel floor of the command bridge, gazing out of the huge window into the vastness of open space, the angel-winged giant was such an awe-inspiring figure that the Captain felt an almost irresistible urge to fall on his knees before Him, even though they were long since past such formalities. But the sight of the statuesque angel was nothing compared to the magnificent, terrifying warrior he became when it came the time for bloodshed. The sight of the angel, tearing apart his enemies, drinking their blood and ripping their hearts, war terrible to behold by his allies and enemies alike. Even though Captain Fractus himself did just as his Lord did, slaughter his foes without mercy and feast on their remains, he felt something wrong in there. Something filthy. Sometimes he wondered whether their end justified the means, whether the Emperor approved the mindless slaughter in His name, even if the victims were those keeping him incarcerated in his own palace. When no-one saw, Cardius shed bitter tears for those who died in his hands, and he felt heart-broken. Maybe the name of their Chapter was an omen, he thought sarcastically. Maybe we will eventually break our own hearts with our evil deeds.
His thoughts were interrupted as the angel motioned with his hand towards a lush, green-blue planet they were approaching. No words were needed. The Captain understood. Sighing, he gave his men the order to prepare for attack. He checked reflexively the straps and joints of his armour, although he did not even remember when he had last removed it. Side by side, he and his Primarch walked towards the shuttle bays to board the first assault pods to enter the planet’s orbit. He did not even notice the greetings of his men, nor the eager atmosphere in expectation of the coming bloodbath. All he registered was a stabbing pain in his chest. He felt it every time before battle. Every time he thought about asking his Lord what it meant, but seeing the gentle smile on His face, seeing the halo of power dancing around His head, he knew he was too small, too insignificant, to bother the great Primarch with such petty questions. Fastening the energy feeding tubes onto his finely crafted lightning claws, he turned his eyes towards the planet that would soon feel the wrath of the true servants of the Emperor.
Sanguinius knew what his loyal Captain was thinking. He knew the answer. The Captain was missing his heart that had been devoured by the angel-winged Daemon eighty centuries ago.
The speeding, white stripes turned into bright stars, as the heavy starcruiser Broken Heart emerged from the Warp to realspace. A tall, power-armoured figure stood on the command bridge, admiring the view from the main window in almost breathless awe. In his eight thousand years of practising visual arts, he could never compete with Mother Nature in the art of beauty.
Eight thousand years, thought Captain Cardius Fractus. Eight thousand years. And most of the time was not spent painting or sculpting. No, it was spent on the battlefield. The Captain was a born warrior, a Space Marine, and warfare was his life. Even so, the little spare time he had was spent creating, not destroying. Like all Blood Angels and members of their Successor Chapters, Captain Fractus was a skilled artist. And with a lifetime longer than any mortal’s, his skills were rivalled only by the eternal universe itself.
His Chapter, Heart Breakers, was one of the Successors of the Blood Angels Legion, created after the Horus Heresy from the gene-seed of the fallen Primarch Sanguinius. His Chapter was the first one to show signs of the curse of the Black Rage.
The Inquisition and the priests of the Ministorum did not understand. They thought it was a mutation, a foul touch of Chaos, but the Heart Breakers knew better. They had been chosen by Sanguinius to tell the truth, the truth about the Betrayal. The Inquisition had not believed.
Their homeworld, Ventricle, had been cleansed by the Exterminatus, all life had been annihilated in case it was something inthe indigenous life forms that caused the rage. The Inquisition thought the problem had been solved. How wrong they were!
Following a vision granted by Sanguinius Himself, two Companies of Heart Breakers had left their world to find evidence for their claims. It was on the eve of the fulfilment of their quest, when they had just reached their destination, a small, lifeless world near the Maelstrom when they heard the news of their homeworld. Enraged, everyone on board swore a holy oath to exact revenge upon the minions of the Traitor. It was then that He appeared.
From a planet bearing no life he flew on angel wings, a giant wearing robes the colour of blood, a man of unearthly beauty. He landed in front of the Captain, who fell on his knees before his Lord Sanguinius.
The winged angel spoke without words to Captain Fractus, sending his emotions through the link established between them in the sacred rites of Insanguination. He told the Captain of the Betrayal, of what really happened in the last days of Horus Heresy. He told the Captain of the Betrayal of Rogal Dorn.
The Imperial Palace was under siege, and the eternal Gate was just about to break under the might of Chaos. It was then that the enemy made his mistake by letting the Emperor, blessed be His name, and his most trusted lieutenants teleport aboard his flagship. Among these had been Sanguinius and Rogal Dorn.
Sanguinius and the Emperor did battle against the Great Enemy, while Dorn held back and watched, waiting for his opportunity. In the end, Sanguinius lay dying in the feet of his Lord, and the Emperor Himself was wounded and weak, but together the two had succeeded, they had destroyed the traitorous Warmaster Horus. Seeing his chance, Dorn quickly disabled the Emperor and carried Him back to Earth, leaving Sanguinius for dead. Back on Earth, Dorn imprisoned the Emperor in a stasis field, which is today known by the ignorant pawns of Dorn as the Golden Throne. He is guarded by Dorn’s own Legion, the Imperial Fists, and the true ruler of the Imperium is the man who betrayed his Emperor at the moment of victory.
This is the truth of the Betrayal, as told by the angel to the Captain. Sanguinius told that he had miraculously survived his wounds, but was too weak to follow and challenge Dorn, surrounded as he was with his minions and holding the Emperor hostage. So he hid to gather his power, to see his children grow and strengthen, until his time had come. Then, almost eight thousand years ago, he had summoned the most loyal of his sons, the Heart Breakers, to come and find him from his lifeless hideout. It would then be the time to strike back at the pretender.
Alas, the traitor saw what was coming and ordered his forces to retaliate upon the Heart Breakers when their fleet and their finest warriors were abroad, destroying their home and almost eight hundred battle-brothers in a cowardly strike. Instead of openly challenging Rogal Dorn and his traitorous minions, the sons of Sanguinius had to resort to guerrilla warfare, lightning strikes against weak targets and rapid withdrawals before the might of the rotten Imperium. Led by the living Primarch himself, the Heart Breakers fought with relentless fury, drinking the blood of countless enemies of the Beneficial Emperor, but they were too few in numbers. Now, the war had lasted for eighty centuries, and was showing no sign of ending.
Cardius was tired. Tired of the endless fighting. He did not ask why he was still alive, when no mortal had ever lived as long as he had. He could see the mutating effect of the Warp in his men, the grinning faces on their shoulder pads, their skull-like helmets and the red glow in their eyes. Even his mighty flagship had twisted into a monstrous behemoth slowly drifting through the Warp and realspace alike, reaping a horrible harvest in its wake. Deep within he knew their Chapter was doomed. He never questioned the orders of his Lord, but in his own heart he was beginning to question the purpose of this all.
His men numbered only a few hundred. Even though they had successfully recruited new warriors from worlds they had conquered, created new Space Marines from the gene-seed of the living Primarch, they had inevitably suffered losses in their endless war. Only a handful of the Captain’s old battle-brothers had survived, and they were as tired as he was. It was only the sight of the winged angel before them that made them fight with the vigour of the young, the sight of their Primarch Sanguinius leading them to battle. Yet it was the sight of the younger Brothers that made the Captain worry most, for they had no restraints in their thirst for blood; even the most fanatical followers of the Emperor, not even the raving lunatic World Eaters, had never been so hungry for fresh slaughter.
As Cardius snapped out of his thoughts he saw the very creature he had been thinking of in front of him. Standing motionless on the solid plasteel floor of the command bridge, gazing out of the huge window into the vastness of open space, the angel-winged giant was such an awe-inspiring figure that the Captain felt an almost irresistible urge to fall on his knees before Him, even though they were long since past such formalities. But the sight of the statuesque angel was nothing compared to the magnificent, terrifying warrior he became when it came the time for bloodshed. The sight of the angel, tearing apart his enemies, drinking their blood and ripping their hearts, war terrible to behold by his allies and enemies alike. Even though Captain Fractus himself did just as his Lord did, slaughter his foes without mercy and feast on their remains, he felt something wrong in there. Something filthy. Sometimes he wondered whether their end justified the means, whether the Emperor approved the mindless slaughter in His name, even if the victims were those keeping him incarcerated in his own palace. When no-one saw, Cardius shed bitter tears for those who died in his hands, and he felt heart-broken. Maybe the name of their Chapter was an omen, he thought sarcastically. Maybe we will eventually break our own hearts with our evil deeds.
His thoughts were interrupted as the angel motioned with his hand towards a lush, green-blue planet they were approaching. No words were needed. The Captain understood. Sighing, he gave his men the order to prepare for attack. He checked reflexively the straps and joints of his armour, although he did not even remember when he had last removed it. Side by side, he and his Primarch walked towards the shuttle bays to board the first assault pods to enter the planet’s orbit. He did not even notice the greetings of his men, nor the eager atmosphere in expectation of the coming bloodbath. All he registered was a stabbing pain in his chest. He felt it every time before battle. Every time he thought about asking his Lord what it meant, but seeing the gentle smile on His face, seeing the halo of power dancing around His head, he knew he was too small, too insignificant, to bother the great Primarch with such petty questions. Fastening the energy feeding tubes onto his finely crafted lightning claws, he turned his eyes towards the planet that would soon feel the wrath of the true servants of the Emperor.
Sanguinius knew what his loyal Captain was thinking. He knew the answer. The Captain was missing his heart that had been devoured by the angel-winged Daemon eighty centuries ago.
