"Ascension" - 40K Kurzgeschichte

  • Irgendwie geht ja in diesem Teil des Forums eher weniger ab. Warum ist das eigentlich so?


    Naja, egal. Da ich gerade in nem anderen Forum, wo ich rumhänge, bei ner 40K Short Story Competition mitmache, habe ich mir gedacht, ich führe das Ergebnis auch Euch zu Gemüte.


    Vorwarnung - da die Competition - am Wort erkennbar - auf englisch ist, ist die Geschichte natürlich auch in englisch. Trotzdem viel Spaß =)



    Ascension - by Chris aka ph03nIXx




    Silence.


    Finally. After days that had felt like weeks, a week that had felt like a year, filled with the rattle of gunfire, explosions and the never ending sound of orkish war cries, the noise of battle had finally come to an end.


    Nothing came to his ears, nothing but the beating of his twin hearts, paired with a dull pain in his chest. Lying on his back, he looked up into the blue sky, into the twin suns under which he had fought for days. It had not been the first campaign in his long life as the emperor's weapon - a life dedicated to vanquishing the enemies of mankind had prepared him for all the universe could throw at him. He had known what to expect - the weeks that had led up to this point had been nothing compared to the eternity of warfare in the Emperor's realm. But still... the constant battle seemed to have dragged on for an eternity. As he lay under the blue sky of this accursed world, his whole life seemed like one single battle to him.


    And here and now, this battle came to an end. Just as the thought occurred to him, something blocked out the sky: A golden figure, surrounded by a halo of golden radiance. His warm, benevolent features looked down on him - both pleased and sad at the same time. He spoke... but as the silence enveloped him, he could not hear. As He spoke, His expression was one of grim seriousness - foreshadowing the wars yet to come, the one battle yet to fight in His name. And just in that moment, as He bent down to put His hand on his shoulder... the beating of his two hearts stopped.



    ====



    It all had begun with one word.


    "Enough!" The fire of rage burning in his eyes, their lord had pronounced the death sentence of each and every greenskin living on the cluster of worlds known to the Imperium of Man as the Blackfang System. After decades of defiance against the Imperium, Dante, lord and chapter master of the Blood Angels, successor to the Great Angel and heir to the throne of the IX. Legion, had decided that the time had come for the eradication of the greenskin menace that had plagued those worlds for so long. And so, for the first time in centuries, the entirety of the Blood Angels had gathered to wage war as one unified whole.


    The planetfall on Blackfang V marked the beginning of the crusade. Part of a coordinated orbital assault on the four mayor planets in the system, Dante commanded the assault on the fifth planet himself. Having picked "the Blooded", the chapter's second company under command of Brother-Captain Aphael, as his spearhead, he rammed this weapon right into the heart of the ork horde that infested the planet: Following on the heels of an opening orbital bombardment, Aphael and two-third of his battle brothers had made an orbital drop right into the main greenskin settlement, landing at the feet of the ramshackle yet formidable battlements the leader of the greenskins occupied. With this daring raid right into the center of the enemy stronghold, Dante intended to cut off the head of the Waaagh quickly so that his forces could destroy the rest of the horde when it scattered.


    Dante himself stayed behind to coordinate the assault from orbit, both commanding the space battle that still raged between Blood Angels vessels and the flotilla of contraptions the orks called space ships and maneuvering the other parts of his strike force into position for the cull. Instead of leading the strike at the enemy stronghold himself, he left the plan how to exactly perform the decapacitation of the beast to Aphael.



    ====



    All of them still vividly remembered Dante's fury in the moment he had declared the crusade against the greenskins. He could see it in the eyes of his battle brothers as they stood around the projection table that was the centerpiece of their field headquarters. All four were intently staring at the hololith showing an auspex approximation of the greenskin fortress' interior structure: Markus, an old, bald, battle scarred veteran and pragmatic that had served him well as advisor for decades. Aurelius, a muscular giant of a man, even by Astartes standards, but known for his surprising finesse in battle. Ardus, the young, blond, longhaired novice from the order of sanguinary priests that served as his personal apothecary - a loose and quick tongue, but well versed in the sanguinary arts. And finally Korranis - slender, quick-witted and always with a hint of smile on his face -, the spirited young Swordsmen that served as his Blood Champion and first of his personal bodyguards, the only one from 2nd Company in these ranks. Clad in the traditional golden armor of the Honor Guard, they looked like titanic warrior statues of old, rendered in bronze or stone, protecting the entrances of catacombs and temples in any human civilization that ever existed. Superhuman guardians of the most valuable things their makers had to offer - in their case not figuratively, but literally. It was their job to keep him safe and alive through the hours to come.


    "So we are doing this the old-fashioned way, hu?" Korranis offered.


    They all knew the plan. Aphael himself had come up with it, being the expert on greenskin warfare that he was. The orks that hadn't been vanquished by the orbital bombardment - which still was a veritable horde by all means - would crash against the defensive perimeter the Blood Angels had set up like waves against a cliff. By holding this position they would draw more and more greenskins to this fight, slowly but steadily draining the battlements around them of their defenders. It was in their nature - there was nothing the orks could do against this. This way, Aphael knew, they would involuntarily open the path for him and his Honor Guard: When the enemy elite finally joined the battle at the feet of the fortifications, they would take to the sky with their jump packs, leaping right over the battlements and into the heart of the fortress. There, they knew, they would find the enemy leader and take off the horde's head just as Lord Dante had planned.


    "We all know it's risky, but risky is what we were made for, you know that," Aphael replied. "If we want to finish this quickly, there is no other way, seeing how entrenched their position is..."
    "Oh, there is," Korranis replied with a smirk, "we could just lean back and raze the whole planet from orbit. But it seems that Lord Dante isn’t satisfied with just wiping all pieces from the board in one go."
    "Lord Dante isn't satisfied with solutions that include smashing the board to splinters, boy. To kill off all greenskins from orbit would mean destroy the planet completely," Markus answered with a raised eyebrow.
    "Of course, Brother, but the point still stands - we could just have shelled this place with artillery or have an airstrike destroy this laughable attempt at a fortress. I am the last one to run from a fight, but there are other ways to ascertain that the leader was killed than having the captain watch him die personally."


    Aphael lifted a hand to end the dispute before Markus could respond. "The moment we set foot onto this planet, we passed the point of no return. So no more discussions - we just go and kill that greenskin brute, clean and simple."



    ====



    The ruins that Aphael's men had occupied as makeshift defense perimeter were painted in blood. Korranis looked down from the roof of what once probably had been a vehicle hangar as the greenskins again retreated into the surrounding maze that was the ork camp. He had power sword and combat shield in hand, the blade still humming as the power field evaporated the last remains of greenskin blood on it. He and the other members of the Honor Guard had been posted at different points along the perimeter, leading combat squads of jump pack equipped Space Marines into counter charges where the press of enemies was greatest. The fighting raged for several days now. Having returned to his rally point, all around him he saw battle brothers covered in gore: Assault Marines revving their chainswords to clean them of greenskin remains. Tactical Marines and Devastators reloading their boltguns and heavy weapons, their muzzles steaming from sustained fire. Techmarines making field repairs on heavy bolter turrets they had erected to support the defenses. Apothecaries checking on the wounded - and retrieving the chapter's due from the dead. All of them had been baptized in blood, the vital fluids bringing out the crimson of their armor even more. Until now, losses had been minimal, but scouts posted at forward positions reported that right now, bigger brutes were rallying the orks for another assault at the Blood Angels' position. Not much longer and Aphael's plan would proceed into the next phase.


    The Blood Champion watched his captain walk along the defense perimeter. Even after the fierce fighting in the last days, even though covered in blood and grime like all the others, his golden artificer armor still made him look like a beacon of righteousness on the battlefield. Every now and then, he stopped, brushing away strains of his blood-soaked, black hair hanging in his face, and exchanged a few words with someone down in the trenches. Each time, his face showed that compassionate, caring aspect that seemed so at odds with both the noble, aristocratic arrogance bred into his features and the feral rage boiling in his green eyes. It was this unlikely trinity that made each and every one of them a Son of Sanguinius - each of them strove to reach that perfect balance of all three aspects of the Great Angel. But there were few that really ever got as far as Aphael hat come: An exemplary warrior, driven by the rage in his soul to the heights of martial perfection; an insightful leader, the deepest concerns of his men laid open to him thanks to his deep compassionate empathy; and finally a masterful commander, thanks to the unshakeable faith that he was born to fight, to lead, to command. Korranis had always admired him for that, knowing that he himself was different: A warrior supreme, unmatched by the all but the best of his brothers, his martial skill fueled by the dark rage burning in his heart... but nothing more.


    Just as his mind began to further dwell on those differences, his voxbead chimed. It was one of the forward scouts, relaying his latest observations to Aphael on the command channel that the Brother-Captain shared with all members of his Honor Guard. Korranis locked eyes with his commander as he listened to the scout’s message, his tone urgent: "A new wave is coming, Captain. Several bigger greenskin leaders and heavily armored units sighted. Presence of enemy elite units confirmed. All scout elements falling back to defense perimeter." Aphael just nodded up to Korranis before he broke into a run towards the designated meeting point of the Honor Guard. "The end is nigh..." the Blood Champion thought grimly and fired his jump pack.

  • ====



    The ground cratered, fracturing below the force of his impact, as Aphael’s power armored form hit the ground. Smaller greenskin creatures fled before them, running towards a great open archway that led into a huge ramshackle building sitting in the center of the fortress' main courtyard. He looked around to get his bearings. All the while, the few orks that overcame their surprise at the Space Marines' sudden appearance in their midst were literally destroyed by Aurelius and his thunderhammer.


    "This is the mustering ground for the elite forces, according to the data our scouts brought back," Markus said.


    "Well, let's go find that Chieftain," Aphael answered just as he was drowned out by a bellowing greenskin war cry.


    "Looks like he found us first, Captain," Korranis replied, pointing his power sword in the direction of several massive ork brutes that came at them from inside the building, each the size of Aurelius or more. But Aphael saw at once that those weren't what Korranis had meant - instead he snarled in disgust at the leader of that pack, towering over his fellow brutes by several feet: A huge greenskin Waaaghboss, thick plates of armor bolted to his body, crude bionic enhancements enabling him to move even though he was carrying a predator's worth of armor plaiting around, his attire completed by a huge menacing Power Klaw the size of a set of Blood Talons the Blood Angels mounted on Furioso Dreadnoughts.


    Again the monstrosity roared, trying to form some kind of sentence trough his gleaming metal teeth: "I IS WAAAAAGHBOSS SKULLSPLITTAAA AND YA GITZ JUST SPARED ME DA WORK OF COMING OUTTA YA FOR DA SKULLKRAKKIN'! GO GET'EM, BOYZ!" With that, the green agglomeration of metal and flesh charged.


    Aphael spared one glance for Korranis - even if the young Blood Champion didn't know himself, he knew that he could trust on Korranis to keep the Honor Guard on their feet during what was to come. There wasn't time for more - the assault hit them with the force of a Dreadnought. Even though they had stood together in a tight wedge to break the initial ork charge on their blades, it was only seconds until each of his Guardians was lost in the swirling melee that developed. Aphael knew what he had to do. Cutting down one of the brutes that was trying to hack a huge two handed chain cleaver into him, he dodged the stream of bullets from a threebarrelled machine gun another leveled at him and stepped right in front of the Waaaghboss, his two-handed Glaive Encarminae brandished in a challenge.



    ====



    Even though the Chieftain's elite wasn't numerous - at least for greenskin standards - they still outnumbered the Honor Guard at least three to one. Korranis was embroiled in a brutal close combat with two of the brutes, stabbing, slicing, parrying with his power sword, blocking a third again and again with his combat shield. Every now and then, he caught a glimpse of the others, but they didn't fare any better than him. He tried to see Aphael through the mass of bodies, but couldn't locate him - until he saw his Captain battling the Waaaghboss up the stairs towards the entrance of the central building.


    Aphael was smaller and had less strength at his disposal, but he was faster and more agile. Dodging every crude sweep of the Chieftain's Power Klaw, he stabbed with his Glaive Encarminae time and again, ripping of armor plates from the crude bionic frame and cutting huge gashes into the ork's body. The brute showed no signs of slowing, but Korranis could already see how the battle would end: It was only a matter of time until the ork would be weakened enough and their Captain in position for a killing strike.


    Thus it was with horror that Korranis watched as Aphael dropped to his knees. Had he been hit? No, the Blood Champion realized. Instead, he saw another ork stepping out behind the Waaaghboss, his crude, but obvious medical gear and white garments making him out to be a greenskin medic of some sort. In his hands, he held something that looked like a bolt thrower, flinging small syringes at Aphael. Impossibly, one of the needles had pierced Aphael's Artificer Armor where the Power Klaw had nearly ripped of the ceramite plate. Paralyzed, the captain fell to his side before the chieftain picked him up, holding him high above him...


    ... and crushed Aphael's chest in the grip of his Power Klaw.


    "NOOOO!" Korranis yelled, the Red Rage in his blood escaping the prison of iron discipline in his soul. The dark rage that fueled his fighting skills now filled every fiber of his being. Uncaring for his own safety, he ignited his jump pack with thunderous noise. His opponents were crushed or thrown aside by the bulleting force of the power armored frame propelled forward by his jump pack as he aimed himself at the Waaaghboss...



    ====



    Silence.


    Finally. After days that had felt like weeks, a week that had felt like a year, filled with the rattle of gunfire, explosions and the never ending sound of orkish war cries, the noise of battle had finally come to an end.


    Nothing came to his ears, nothing but the beating of his twin hearts, paired with a dull pain in his chest. Lying on his back, he looked up into the blue sky, into the twin suns under which he had fought for days. It had not been the first campaign in his long life as the emperor's weapon - a life dedicated to vanquishing the enemies of mankind had prepared him for all the universe could throw at him. He had known what to expect - the weeks that had led up to this point had been nothing compared to the eternity of warfare in the Emperor's realm. But still... the constant battle seemed to have dragged on for an eternity. As he lay under the blue sky of this accursed world, his whole life seemed like one single battle to him.


    And here and now, this battle came to an end. Just as the thought occurred to him, something blocked out the sky: A golden figure, surrounded by a halo of golden radiance. His warm, benevolent features looked down on him - both pleased and sad at the same time. He spoke... but as the silence enveloped him, he could not hear. As He spoke, His expression was one of grim seriousness - foreshadowing the wars yet to come, the one battle yet to fight in His name. And just in that moment, as He bent down to put His hand on his shoulder... the beating of his two hearts stopped.



    ====



    Korranis looked around as the orks scattered from mustering ground where the final confrontation had played out. The greenskin Waaaghboss lay dead at his feet, Aphael's Glaive Encarminae still protruding from his neck where Korranis had rammed it trough the brute's torso from below. Slowly he moved over to the man he had sworn to protect during this battle. His captain lay there, just a few meters away from the hulking shape of the dead Waaaghboss. His breathing was slow, his chest gurgling at the points where the ork's crude Power Klaw had crushed both the Captains Power Armor and ribcage.


    The Blood Champion leaned over Aphael, his shadow falling on his Brother-Captain, blocking out the light from the twin suns above. Locking eyes with Aphael, Korranis was relieved that he was still conscious, eyes moving... but at the same moment he realized that it was too late. Still looking into his captain's eyes, he called for Ardus, his own helplessness giving his face a grim aspect. The crusade had just begun, it was not for a leader like Aphael to die like this - in an opening engagement on some greenskin infested backwater instead of a final stand at the gates of the green hell Dante had chosen to lead them into.


    "I should have died here," Korranis whispered, "in your stead, so you could go on to lead us to those final battles. The place there is yours, not mine."


    He bent down... and just in that moment, as he put his hand on his Captain's shoulder... the beating of his two hearts stopped.


    "No..." Korranis breathed and felt his legs give away. An arm caught his fall - Ardus, the Sanguinary Novitiate of the Honor Guard. It took him only a glance to assess the situation. "It's too late, Korranis. He is at the Emperor's side now. There is nothing we can do for him anymore."



    ====



    They walked back to the camp. Their jump packs would have brought them back within seconds, but Korranis didn't feel like they had the right to do so. Even though they had accomplished the goal given to them, all he could think of was Aphael's death, their failure to carry out their most sacred duty - to protect their lord and leader. Markus and Aurelius carried the body while Korranis led the way. They didn't have to fight anymore - any greenskins they met ran when they saw the golden giants that had bested their brutish chief. All around them, they heard gunfire, saw Stormraven Gunships swoop down on strafing runs - their brothers moving in to ensure that Lord Dante's plan was carried out. Still, they walked in grim silence all the way back to the 2nd company's camp outside the fortress.


    When they reached the defense perimeter, the fighting had moved on, following the fleeing greenskins. Their brothers were waiting for them. Silence enveloped the camp as the message spread that Aphael had fallen. Korranis felt his brothers' eyes on his back - it had been his duty first and foremost to protect him, doubly so as he was the only one from the ranks of "the Blooded" present at the battle. But as he looked around, he didn't see the accusing stares he had expected. Instead, everywhere he looked he saw brothers looking at him, looking for guidance. But he had nothing to give. It was like they thought it natural that he would take the lead, the one closest to their captain. Who else? He was the best of them. Only that he wasn't. He saw it in their eyes - their need for him to step up and take the mantle of leadership. But he couldn't. They had to know that he and Aphael had been a different breed, that it was not his to take that step. Only that they didn't.


    It did take a few more seconds before the realization hit Korranis that they were not alone. Three presences approached, his brothers parting before them and dropping to one knee: Giants, armored in gold, carried on wings of silver, their faces hidden behind golden masks that were ever shifting, but now showing the noble and compassionate aspect of Sanguinius himself. The two members of the Sanguinary Guard that accompanied Lord Dante stopped, taking his Axe Mortalis and his holy Death Mask said to be forged by Sanguinius himself as he took it off. "Rise, brothers!" Dante commanded. "Brother Korranis, walk with me," he added as he slowly picked his path away from the defense perimeter towards the battlements Korranis and his brothers had just cleared.



    ====



    "Your brothers need a leader, Korranis."


    Dante didn't look at him, instead watching "the Blooded" slowly dismantling defenses at the feet of the Battlements that were no longer needed. Dante had led Korranis up onto the walls of the fortress so that now they were standing high above his battle brothers. "This campaign is still a long way from the end and I can't have a tenth of our battle brothers lost to mourning their beloved captain." Turning his eyes on him, Korranis felt like the gaze of the Lord of the Blood Angels pierced his soul down to the very core. "I need someone to transform this mourning into righteous hatred. An Icon of Revenge. And I want you to be this icon."


    Korranis took a step back. He shook his head, taken aback by the very idea that he should succeed the man he had failed only hours before.


    "With all due respect, milord... Why me?"


    Dante raised an eyebrow. "I spoke to several of your veteran brothers, especially to the other members of Aphael's former Honor Guard. They hold you in high regard and were quite adamant that you would be the right choice to lead the Blooded. I know your battle record and seeing your accomplishments on the battlefield, I am inclined to agree."


    Korranis shock his head. "I am no leader. I can see my brothers' need for leadership clearly as anyone, but I am a warrior, nothing more. I do not possess the same level of compassion and insight as Aphael did."


    Dante smiled. "That you see the needs of your brothers so clearly only shows that you do, Korranis."


    Again, the young veteran shook his head. "Still, I have always been a soldier, nothing more, milord. I wasn't born to be a leader... like Aphael was."


    Again, Dante smiled. "Few leaders are born. Leaders are forged, Korranis. They earn the respect of their men in battle, mastering the challenges set before them. Like you did countless times already."


    Korranis was at a loss for words. Looking down at his battle brothers, he said: "But I am not the leader they need... I am not the leader they deserve."


    "By virtue of that statement... by virtue of the humility it displays, Korranis, you are," Dante replied as he engaged his jump pack and took off, leaving Korranis alone atop the battlements, high above his battle brothers.



    ====



    Silence.


    Finally. After days that had felt like weeks, a week that had felt like a year, filled with the rattle of gunfire, explosions and the never ending sound of orkish war cries, the noise of battle had finally come to an end.


    Nothing came to his ears, nothing but the beating of his twin hearts, paired with a dull pain in his chest. Standing atop the battlements, he looked up into the blue sky, into the twin suns under which he had fought for days. It was not the first campaign in his long life as the emperor's weapon - a life dedicated to vanquishing the enemies of mankind had prepared him for all the universe could throw at him. He had known what to expect - the weeks that had led up to this point had been nothing compared to the eternity of warfare in the Emperor's realm. But still... the constant battle seemed to have dragged on for an eternity. As he stood under the blue sky of this accursed world, his whole life seemed like one single battle to him.


    And here and now, this battle came to an end. Just as the thought occurred to him, something blocked out the sky: A golden figure, surrounded by a halo of golden radiance, carried into the heavens on silver wings. His warm, benevolent features looked down on him - both pleased and sad at the same time. He spoke... and even though silence was about envelope him, he did hear the words. As the figure spoke, its expression was one of grim seriousness - foreshadowing the wars yet to come, the many battles yet to fight in His name. And just in that moment, as the golden one swooped down towards the men of "the Blooded", the words carried to his ears:


    "Assemble your battle brothers, Blood Angel - many more greenskins need to die by your hands before we see the end of this."


    This battle came to an end... but a new one began right away.