Brothers in arms
Lähetetty: Ti 23.12.2003 13:42
Junamatkan etuja: aikaa käyttää tietokoneen naksutteluun. Enemmittä puheitta lyhyt tarina lontooksi.
Brothers in Arms
“Brother, once were we equals. As you may remember - hailed as the enlightenment embodied, spawned from gene-seed, trained by masters, and equipped with the best Mars had to offer in order to do battle against Humanity’s many enemies. Doesn’t it sound familiar? I ask you, Brother - why did you fail your oath to serve Mankind above all else?”
“I did not, you thrice-accursed… “
The words trailed off, first in spasms then in silence as the wretched form of a man in heavy chains coughed bright blood from his throat. He hadn’t surrendered easily; it had taken five Brother Marines to restrain him even after they had dug his barely-breathing body from the smouldering wreckage of a destroyed Rhino APC. The basement shook and a cloud of dust drifted from the ceiling; outside the battle still raged as it had raged for the last two months. Under the burning sky, huge Warlord Titans pounded the enemy-held walls with powers of a sun harnessed, like vengeful gods raining bolts of incandescent death upon the Marines’ adversaries.
Once, those under siege had been called brothers.
Turning to face his captive, Brother-Captain Niem clenched his armoured fist tightly in a barely controlled rage.
“But don’t you see, you fool! Don’t you understand how you have betrayed your oaths to Mankind? Don’t you see what we have seen; don’t you know what manner of a beast are you fighting for? Can you imagine what would have happened to Humanity had your cause triumphed?” the old warrior snarled. His words reverberated in the cavernous hall; present were only him and the prisoner, his Terminator Marines waiting outside for the final assault to breach the inner walls of the Palace.
“It is you and your idealistic kind who are deluded. It is you who doesn’t want to see what is happening. What your damned figurehead of a leader is really after. An eternity of darkness. And an age of hideous oppression throughout the Galaxy. You are the fool. Not I.”
The wounded man wanted to scream in agony, but he was determined not to show any more weakness in front of these fanatics. Had not he and his Legion opposed them since from the very beginning of the Heresy? His armour had been stripped away, his flesh had burnt and his bones had broken when his Rhino took a hit, and he couldn’t resist his captors any more. But he was still a Marine, and even if he could not resist, at the very least he wouldn’t bow in submission. He knew that for him and his side, there would be no mercy, no matter what he said or did. There had been no mercy after the drop site massacre at Istvaan V. No mercy at all, he thought, remembering the mountain of skulls on the Eternity Gate, the depopulation of Vanaheim, the killing fields of Pergador, and countless other atrocities he knew had taken place since.
Captain Niem was furious in a manner he had rarely been in the past. Visibly trembling, screaming in rage, he lashed at the man in chains with his crimson-coloured fist. He had wanted to reason with this pitiful husk of once-proud Marine, had wanted to get him to admit the superiority of the Niem’s cause, but instead he had been reminded once again that he was a warrior made to crush his enemies, not a librarian made to mince words.
Perhaps he would have pounded his prisoner to pulp, had not one of his sergeants hailed him on the comm-net.
“Sir, the Titan is ready and its… princeps wishes us to board the assault pod at our earliest convenience – it seems like the outer wall is breached and the final assault is underway at last!”
This is it, he thought as he acknowledged to his sergeant. The culmination of this long, sad campaign. The war would end here today. His people would be liberated and a new age of freedom and enlightenment would begin. He knew it. His Terminators would crush through the last defenders and reach the Tyrant’s throne room. And he would be leading them to victory.
Turning to leave, he gave one last glance to the sorry form lying on the floor, deciding to continue the argument or finish him once the battle was over.
A sputtering stream of alternating curses and prayers came from between broken lips, but on seeing the Captain depart, the Marine gathered his strength and screamed after him:
“Haven’t you seen with your own eyes what is happening outside? Can’t you really see the Daemons of the Outerdark you have allied yourselves with? Can’t you see?”
But Brother-Captain was oblivious to his words. Outside, under the hallowed sky of Terra, his Terminator assault platoon in blue, white and red armour waited for his commands.
“I am no man for speeches and you all know that. Together, we have fought long and hard to get where we stand now. And I assure you, this momentous day shall be remembered for all eternity as the Day of Days! Men - Marines – battle brothers - board the assault pods and prepare for the greatest battle in your lifetime!”
Raising his black sword high into darkening sky, he bellowed:
“Brother World Eaters, follow me to victory or death! For the Warmaster and our Primarch Angron! Death to the False Emperor!”
© J Korhonen 2003-12-23
Brothers in Arms
“Brother, once were we equals. As you may remember - hailed as the enlightenment embodied, spawned from gene-seed, trained by masters, and equipped with the best Mars had to offer in order to do battle against Humanity’s many enemies. Doesn’t it sound familiar? I ask you, Brother - why did you fail your oath to serve Mankind above all else?”
“I did not, you thrice-accursed… “
The words trailed off, first in spasms then in silence as the wretched form of a man in heavy chains coughed bright blood from his throat. He hadn’t surrendered easily; it had taken five Brother Marines to restrain him even after they had dug his barely-breathing body from the smouldering wreckage of a destroyed Rhino APC. The basement shook and a cloud of dust drifted from the ceiling; outside the battle still raged as it had raged for the last two months. Under the burning sky, huge Warlord Titans pounded the enemy-held walls with powers of a sun harnessed, like vengeful gods raining bolts of incandescent death upon the Marines’ adversaries.
Once, those under siege had been called brothers.
Turning to face his captive, Brother-Captain Niem clenched his armoured fist tightly in a barely controlled rage.
“But don’t you see, you fool! Don’t you understand how you have betrayed your oaths to Mankind? Don’t you see what we have seen; don’t you know what manner of a beast are you fighting for? Can you imagine what would have happened to Humanity had your cause triumphed?” the old warrior snarled. His words reverberated in the cavernous hall; present were only him and the prisoner, his Terminator Marines waiting outside for the final assault to breach the inner walls of the Palace.
“It is you and your idealistic kind who are deluded. It is you who doesn’t want to see what is happening. What your damned figurehead of a leader is really after. An eternity of darkness. And an age of hideous oppression throughout the Galaxy. You are the fool. Not I.”
The wounded man wanted to scream in agony, but he was determined not to show any more weakness in front of these fanatics. Had not he and his Legion opposed them since from the very beginning of the Heresy? His armour had been stripped away, his flesh had burnt and his bones had broken when his Rhino took a hit, and he couldn’t resist his captors any more. But he was still a Marine, and even if he could not resist, at the very least he wouldn’t bow in submission. He knew that for him and his side, there would be no mercy, no matter what he said or did. There had been no mercy after the drop site massacre at Istvaan V. No mercy at all, he thought, remembering the mountain of skulls on the Eternity Gate, the depopulation of Vanaheim, the killing fields of Pergador, and countless other atrocities he knew had taken place since.
Captain Niem was furious in a manner he had rarely been in the past. Visibly trembling, screaming in rage, he lashed at the man in chains with his crimson-coloured fist. He had wanted to reason with this pitiful husk of once-proud Marine, had wanted to get him to admit the superiority of the Niem’s cause, but instead he had been reminded once again that he was a warrior made to crush his enemies, not a librarian made to mince words.
Perhaps he would have pounded his prisoner to pulp, had not one of his sergeants hailed him on the comm-net.
“Sir, the Titan is ready and its… princeps wishes us to board the assault pod at our earliest convenience – it seems like the outer wall is breached and the final assault is underway at last!”
This is it, he thought as he acknowledged to his sergeant. The culmination of this long, sad campaign. The war would end here today. His people would be liberated and a new age of freedom and enlightenment would begin. He knew it. His Terminators would crush through the last defenders and reach the Tyrant’s throne room. And he would be leading them to victory.
Turning to leave, he gave one last glance to the sorry form lying on the floor, deciding to continue the argument or finish him once the battle was over.
A sputtering stream of alternating curses and prayers came from between broken lips, but on seeing the Captain depart, the Marine gathered his strength and screamed after him:
“Haven’t you seen with your own eyes what is happening outside? Can’t you really see the Daemons of the Outerdark you have allied yourselves with? Can’t you see?”
But Brother-Captain was oblivious to his words. Outside, under the hallowed sky of Terra, his Terminator assault platoon in blue, white and red armour waited for his commands.
“I am no man for speeches and you all know that. Together, we have fought long and hard to get where we stand now. And I assure you, this momentous day shall be remembered for all eternity as the Day of Days! Men - Marines – battle brothers - board the assault pods and prepare for the greatest battle in your lifetime!”
Raising his black sword high into darkening sky, he bellowed:
“Brother World Eaters, follow me to victory or death! For the Warmaster and our Primarch Angron! Death to the False Emperor!”
© J Korhonen 2003-12-23
