"Well, laddie. Seems you pulled off the impossible. Old Dragian will be pleased."
I turned at his words. "What?"
Vercian smiled. "Turns out we broke the hordes, they've been falling back all day."
"So how does that affect me, sergeant?"
"Well, laddie, the Chief Apothecary, Medicus, got himself killed fighting with the Master. So, we're sending all avalible Apothecarian to the Master's chambers to pick a new one."
My look of curiousity becomes disbelief. Me? Chief Apothecary!? A coveted title amongst the healers of the Chapter, to be sure...
"Get going, laddie! The Master's not going to wait!"
Battle-Barge Aay'han (Translation: Remembrace), High Orbit, Sustenance. 220.M42
"What happened then!?" asked Magni loudly.
I shook myself from my reverie. I looked around, finding a small crowd of mismatched Space Marines had gathered around myself and young Magni. I pushed past them to look at the chrono. I had been talking for the better part of an hour. Memories of comrades long since dead filled my thoughts.
"Well, young one, that is a story for another day."
I pulled Magni from his sitting position and looked around at the crowd I had drawn. Space Wolf, Dark Angel, Black Watch, White Consuls, Raven Guard, Imperial Fist, Even two reclusive Iron Hands, nearly all bionics.
Their armor was dirty, and in disrepair. Some sported different colors on their armor, hasty repairs to cover weakened flanks. My best friend, Arbalan, strode up to me, his footfalls shaking the loose bolts from the deck.. Almost two and a half centuries before, Arbalan had been wounded terribly fighting the Orks on Aegis VII. His broken form had been kept in stasis until the Dreadnought shell had been cobbled together from other destroyed brethren. Arbalan had grown old and wise in the years, while I had grown rather reckless and attached to the warband.
"And that is why you are not a Dreadnought, Brother Altair." said Arbalan, and I realized I had spoken aloud.
"Indeed, my old friend. But were I a Dreadnought, you would not be."
As the last Apothecary able to perform Implantation surgery, I had overseen Arbalan's implantation into the Dreadnought.
"True, Altair. But also, you could not bear to go to war without me."
"That may be, my friend."
[All hands to stations, dock in five minutes.]
As one of Aay'han's senior officers, I was patched into the ship's commlink to listen in on the chatter.
[Ryza ground control, Armed Freighter Aay'han requesting landing coordinates.]
[Aay'han, this is ground control Ryza. Landing position eight-eight-zero-four, pad sixteen.]
[Ryza control, scan our holds.]
There was a pause.
[[Aay'han[/i], we show zero water and little cargo. Our city services are avalible at this time, for a fee. Would you like a resupply?]
[Most appreciated, Ryza control.]
[Ryza control to Aay'han, divert to pad eighteen, there's a resupply dump there.]
[Recieved and confirmed, Ryza control]
I felt a shudder run through the ship a moment later. We were down.
Another happy landing.
You'll forgive me, but you must be mistaken. I've met your makers, and they don't even know your name...
GIVING CHASE- ORDO HERETICUS FIC (Updated Mar. 19)
Hat in the Ring
Last edited by Dirge Eterna; 12-10-07 at 12:54 AM.