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post #1 of 95 (permalink) Old 11-18-09, 03:19 PM Thread Starter
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Default Seven Shades

This is my first Fan fic ive posted here so let me know what you guys think.

It's a tale concerning the much lamented and often misunderstood Rainbow Warriors, however it is not a comedy, I intend to make them cool again or at the very least relevant!

Here goes -

*EDIT:- at the bequest of Dark Angel I've added a Dramatis Personae.

Dramatis Personae

The Venerable Brothers of the Rainbow Warriors

Bifrost - Lord Captain Commander, Lord of Priism and 1st of the Rosians
Acatlotzin - Rosian, 2nd to Bifrost
Namacuix - 2nd in command of the Rainbow Warriors Chapter, Lord of Tonal and the Azuls
Borlung - Azul, Namacuix's Adjutant.
Xilonen - Azul, Namacuix's 2nd in Command.
Tezuma - Former Azul Captain, now A red.
Ocelotl - Verdant, Captain
Tonuauc - Puran, Lord of the Sun and Master of the Sacrifice
Yingarna - Puran, Lord of the Moon and Master of the Blood
Vladren - Rosian, Admiral of the Fleet
Autemoc - Azul, Vladren's 2nd
Heimdallr - Verdant, Master of the incoming wave
Monvath - Amaril, Lord of the Amarils and keeper of the Lore
Asvelon - Amaril, Monvath's 2nd
Forex - Anaran, Master of the Forge.

The Maniacal Brethren of the Emperor's Cleavers

Krom - High Blade Lord and Chapter Commander
Brothgaar - High Fist
Gorath - Fist
Joruus - Claw
Gorax - Claw
Fromaar - Claw
Cobaal - Talon

The Bonecaster - Mysterious Lord of the Chapter

Those members of the Non-Astartes civillianry and PDF

Ictlan - Namacuix's flesh brother and Majordomo
Arken Phlebas - Lord Governor of Soliban Prime
Maken Totav - Acting PDF Commander
Oren Pilonious - High Judge and Lord Marshal of the Arbites

Those members of His Majesty's Imperial Inquisition

Lady Cotillion - Inquisitor in charge of pacification of Soliban
Orinir - Her Interrogator
Fero Jax - Captain of the Inquisition Stormtroopers

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~



CLASSIFICATION: Tertiary Level Intelligence
ENCRYPTION: Cryptox v 3.3
DATE: 338.M41
AUTHOR: Gabriel Vaun, Inquisitor Ordo Hereticus
SUBJECT: The Intelligence you requested
RECIPIENT: Dashiel Primus Lotan, Lord Inquisitor, Ordo Hereticus Headquarters Segmentum Tempestus

Concerning the Rainbow Warriors,

My Most Gracious Lord,

Please find enclosed the Intelligence briefing you requested regarding the aforementioned Chapter.


[HG] - Proeliator Pluvium
[LG] - The Rainbow Warriors

HERITAGE - Successor of the Blood Angels Chapter, Unknown Founding

EST. HOMEWORLD - Conflicting reports find them with two distinct homeworlds
i) Prism
ii) Tonaltzinthi III

CURRENT NUMBERS - Between 550 and 600 Full Brothers, Unknown Scout and Neophyte Numbers

GENESEED TITHE QUOTA - Completed Regularly, Adeptus Majoris Gravan reports no anomalies.

RECENT HISTORY - Absolutely nothing of note, without a more aggressive investigation, it is impossible to research.

CURRENT WHEREABOUTS - Unknown, though there are rumours of an engagement on a frontier world known as Void's Edge


My Lord I respectfully request that in the future you do not burden me with such thankless tasks, I find them to be a waste of time and valuable resources, they deprive important theatres of my agents, theatres where their presence and constant vigil is required.

The Astartes are a law unto themselves, they defy all attempts at control. Perhaps this role would be better suited to one of your more experienced Inquisitors in the future. Though why you wish to gather such intelligence is beyond me.

Once more I beg forgiveness for my Bluntness.

My Loyalty remains to you and the Golden Throne,

Gabriel Vaun.

+Thought for the Day - Taint is a cancer, sometimes it is prudent to remove a healthy organ to prevent its spread.+

Rainbow Warriors

She watched from her hiding place as more and more of the bodies pressed against the giant form, its bulky blue armour like a sea wall holding fast against a breaking tide. She eyed its vast form admiring the ceremonial armour it bore, which seemed to have some form of simplistic dragon totem detailed upon its every surface, while long ceremonial feathers protruded from various parts of its torso. The helm upon its head was shaped in the form of a glorious raptor, its ruby eyes surveying those around it with disdain.

Naked, its assailants rubbed and butted themselves against its still form, deriving pleasure from every touch. Several had ornamental knives with which they curiously stabbed at the statuesque form, seemingly trying to wound it, these attacks seemed almost laughable and invariably they ended up wounding each other more than they managed to even scratch the surface of their intended target.

Finally, it seemed that the giant had reached the limit of its tolerance. It moved one arm up striking several of the writhing forms and knocking them to the floor, where they lay writhing in ecstasy.

It then spun and charged backwards crashing into the timber frame of the wall behind it, crushing several of those who cavorted on its back. Finally it drew some kind of sword from its scabbard and began to dispatch the rest of those that surrounded it, laying into piles of bodies with each downward swipe of its blade until only one remained.

This sobbing creature backed away from the blood soaked behemoth before it.
Pleading for its life it raised one hand beckoning for the statue to stop its bloodshed. The fool’s pleas fell on deaf ears and she winced as it the statue strolled forward, watching mesmerised as the huge figure stomped down on the face of its victim crushing the head into a pulped mess.

The huge form circled slowly, scanning the room for more targets as a second of its kind entered from the doorway to its left.

Finally the child moved forward, stopping only to rub a large cist on her back which caused a sickly sweet smell to fill the air around her, she stepped out into the light knowing it was time for to speak her part.

Bifrost stomped down hard, killing the last cultist, grinning in satisfaction as he heard the crunch of the skull being ground into the solid wooden floor.

He looked up to see Acatlotzin standing in the doorway to his left, his terminator-armoured form was as blood drenched as his own.

“The more we defend humanity, the more I’m finding it has the capacity to surprise and disgust me.” He hissed as his second in command entered the room.

There was a shuffling noise behind him and he spun raising his storm bolter, grimacing as he noticed the body fluids still dripping from the barrel.

Acatlotzin appeared to his left, his weapon raised in a mirror image of his Lord, they both eyed the young female cub standing before them with suspicion, a sweet smell filling the air around her, before Bifrost activated his external vox.

“Imperial citizen you are impeding an astartes investigation, return to your parents and forget what you have seen here.” He fought hard to keep the contempt from his voice. Dealing with children was not something that the old warrior had much experience with.

The child tilted her head to the side and offered the sign of the Aquila. “Noble warriors of the Astartes, I think that you mistake me for a simple citizen, I am not. I am a member of the God Emperor’s most blessed Ecclesiarchy.”

Bifrost turned to Acatlotzin and activated his internal vox. “Were you aware of any representatives of His Church being sent to check on us?”

The other warrior shook his head in reply.

Bifrost turned back to the she cub. “We were not made aware that any members of the Imperial church were to be sent to converse with us. What do you want?”

The young girl seemed to take his questions in her stride, stepping gingerly over a puddle of blood and mashed limbs, showing no obvious discomfort at the sight.

“His Holiness sent me to ensure that the matter you were brought here for was concluded in a suitable manner. He wished to ensure that all remaining taint of this Emperor damned cult were wiped from existence.”

Bifrost nodded taking in her words; he found them strange coming from so young a she-cub. The scent that emanated from her filled his nostrils, though his helmets olfactors had dampened it considerably, it was still pungent. He wrinkled his nose, trying to dismiss the disruptive smell.

“Then you have your answer, the cult is no more. All of the remaining members have been purged by my command team.”

The she cub nodded. “My Lord will be pleased you have his thanks-“

Suddenly she stopped, sniffing the air, then turned, a slight hissing sound issuing from her lips as another armoured form entered through the front door of the building. This one was smaller and less compact than the two behind her, it eyed her warily.

Bifrost reacted first, raising his bolter in the direction of the new comer. “What is the meaning of this?”

The figure stepped forward into the light; it wore similar armour to Bifrost, though it was indeed of a different, smaller form. Bifrost growled as he recognised the warrior before him.

“Namacuix? What in the Emperor’s name are you doing here?” He called, anger clear in his voice.

The warrior stepped forward, saluting his Lord by punching his fist to his chest. In his other hand he held his helmet, his bare face was open and honest, the vertical, multicoloured stripe that ran from the top of his forehead to the bottom of his neck where it met the collar of his armour was vibrant and fresh as though he had just come from one of Tonauac’s ceremonies. The small service studs that pierced his skull were matched by the elongated piercings that covered his ears, like all of their Chapter such ornamentation was a proud part of their heritage.

“My Lord, you must not listen to this She-cub it reeks of deception, it has been sent to lull you into a false sense of security.”

Bifrost returned his sword to his scabbard then raised his hand to silence the other warrior.

By now the small child was becoming agitated, unable to hear their discourse it could tell that something was wrong.

“My Lord Captain Commander Bifrost, if you will remain here, I will send for his Holiness-“

Namacuix silenced her by lashing out with a swift kick, his armoured boot catching the small child and throwing its now lifeless corpse across the room, its face and upper chest a bloody ruin.

Bifrost brought his bolter to bear once more, his shock apparent at the act of one of his marines killing a She-cub, a child of the Ecclesiarchy no less.

“What madness is this? Have you lost your mind?” He growled at the younger warrior.

Namacuix ignored him, striding forward to lift the still twitching corpse, he raised it before his Lord, displaying the strange Cist upon its back, which even now was still secreting pheromones.

“This cub is a known as scent child. It was sent by a secondary cult to stall you. The pheromones it secretes, were designed to confound you and act as a beacon to its masters.”

Bifrost removed his helmet to get a closer look. “Scent child? Secondary Cult?
Explain this madness, and while your at it you can tell me what the Captain of my Third Company is even doing here? When I distinctly remember sending him on a vital mission protecting a ministorum fleet from reavers two systems away!”

“The Azuls still follow your command my Lord, I am here with the second Company. The Amarils of the Librarium received intelligence of a second cult just after you left to oversee this mission; they sent word to me before my company departed. I thought it prudent that I myself take command and warn you.”

He threw the corpse to the ground and torched its remains with his hand flamer, before continuing with his explanation.

“The night breeders of the Great Maw have infiltrated this planet. It was they who posed as the Ecclesiarchy to get you here; they wished to use you to remove the only remaining thorn in their side, the Pleasure cult. This was in order for them to then seize control of the planet. Even now they move to do so, this town will fall first, as the first borns come to confront you and tear any resistance asunder.”

Bifrost eyed Namacuix, unsure how to take his words.

“Please my Lord, you must go back to the skybridge you cannot risk our entire command team. Activate your locaters, a squad from the fifth company await even now to teleport you out.”

Bifrost cursed loudly. “I will not run from a fight! Especially not from the accursed Genestealers!”

“And yet run you must my Lord, for I have unleashed the Reds.” Namacuix responded staring at him, the desperation plain in his voice. Acatlotzin inhaled sharply and Bifrost grabbed Namacuix’ arm.

“You did what? You truly have lost your mind! Who gave you the right to order such measures?” He hissed, anger clear in his voice.

“There was nothing else we could do my Lord, it was the only option.” Namacuix replied calmly.

Bifrost nodded. “You have not heard the last of this Boy.”

Shaking his head the old Lord punched a button on his gauntlet as Acatlotzin followed suit. The Old Lord then spoke into his helm comm.

“This is Bifrost, the command team is pulling out, activate your locaters.” He then turned back to Namacuix.

“Clean this mess up, or do not return to us.” Namacuix nodded at his solemn words.

The first screams and sounds of fighting began as the command team disappeared in a blaze of light, Namacuix shielded his eyes as his Lord dematerialised, his glaring eyes the last thing Namacuix saw, as he was teleported back to the fortress monastery.

Namacuix turned sharply and lifted his gauntlet; he eyed the chronometer on his wrist armour then walked smartly out of the wooden building. He crossed the small dusty square of the frontier town, trying not to see the armoured forms that feasted upon the flesh of the still living towns people, armoured forms who bore the same livery as he did. He kept his eyes focused in the small Imperial chapel in front of him. Wondering how it had survived sandwiched as it was between two of the Imperium’s most reviled enemies.

Stepping smartly he cleared the small wooden steps leading up to the promenade and entered the small church, silencing his ears to the pleas of the dying citizens who screamed for his help.

Moving forward, he strolled between the tow rows of pews, carrying on until he came to the small altar, a basalt relief of the Emperor in his war form, pointing its marble blade to the heavens, showing humanity its birthright.

He knelt before it. Wishing for his sins this day, to be washed away by the radiance of the Tlacelel, the greatest of the warrior kings, the God Emperor of humanity.

Namacuix raised his head, a small tear running down his tanned and flawless cheek. Emotion was something that administrations of his Chapter’s Apothecarium was supposed to have burned out of him but here and now, where the screams of the innocent mingled, with the cries of the guilty, Namacuix felt the sorrow sweep through him.

Sorrow for his chapter and the innocents they have cursed this day but mostly sorrow for his brothers, the ones who would carry out the slaughter, those who would drink the blood of the innocent and turn themselves unwillingly from the God Emperor’s light. He raised his head and roared at the heavens, cursing the taint that blighted his chapter.

As he finished his lament, he reached down and gripped the pommel of his power sword, something had entered the small chapel behind him. He did not turn to view it, instead he merely waited. Perhaps it would be better to die here in the Emperor’s place than return to the hell that forged him. He bowed his head and awaited his fate.

The decision was taken from him as the stained glass window behind him burst inward and a bolt of blue crashed into the creature slamming it forward and out of the opposite window.

Namacuix looked up and saw the Emperor looking down on him. No, he would not die this day. He rose to his feet and moved away from the altar, bowing to the statue as he did so.

He turned and made his way to the small entrance, turning once more to salute the altar as he turned to leave.

Outside he was greeted by a scene of absolute carnage, his brothers had torn through the township and in a matter of what could only be minutes they had destroyed it utterly, dying towns folk lay everywhere, their dwellings destroyed and ravaged with fire. Here and there, several of the night breeders cult still fought but they were quickly overwhelmed, even their first borns could do little against his cursed brothers.

Namacuix stared straight ahead as out of the corner of his eye he noticed the forms of several of the Red tide turn from their dying victims to view him. With a chorus of grunts and hisses several of them started to move towards him.

Namacuix did not move, standing stock still, he made no move to retreat in the face of such overwhelming odds; instead he began to utter loudly a prayer to the Emperor, begging his forgiveness for the spilled blood of the innocents that now covered his chapter.

On and on they came, more of them joining the tide as they rushed towards him, closer and closer they came and still Namacuix did nothing.

They were almost upon him, when the chronometer at his wrist chimed. He quietly thanked the Emperor.

Suddenly all around him, almost simultaneously, his cursed brothers dropped to the dust unconscious.

Namacuix nodded and activated his helm comm.

“The mission was a success, thank the Emperor. I need clean up squads Jaguar and Hawk, flamer units will be required. Oh and thank the Purans once more for their gifts of the omnissiah, without them I would surely be counted among the dead. Namacuix

Last edited by the_unchanged; 07-27-10 at 01:52 AM.
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post #2 of 95 (permalink) Old 11-19-09, 03:43 AM
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Ah, you did register for this forum! I suppose that I'll have to reward you by reading and reviewing this story, then...

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What sphinx of plascrete and adamantium bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagination? Imperator! Imperator!
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post #3 of 95 (permalink) Old 11-19-09, 09:09 AM
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An outstanding piece... It's been a while since I have read a story that was worth my time.... REP!....
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post #4 of 95 (permalink) Old 11-19-09, 04:43 PM Thread Starter
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Mossy - you mean you haven't read my stuff already? Im disappointed

Waltz - Thanks for the praise! I hope you'll keep reading as this is only the beginning.
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post #5 of 95 (permalink) Old 11-19-09, 04:49 PM Thread Starter
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Default part 2



CLASSIFICATION: Tertiary Level communique
ENCRYPTION: Cryptox v 3.3
DATE: 339.M41
AUTHOR: Dashiel Lotan, Inquisitor Lord Ordo Hereticus
SUBJECT: Request - Permission Granted
RECIPIENT: Arken Phlebas, Lord Governor, Soliban Prime, Sector Capital, Garras Sector.

Lord Governor,

I have considered your request and taken time to research the solutions to your problems and I concur with your findings, furthermore the Intelligence I have gathered, though limited, shows no sign of taint.

This intelligence is incomplete however and as I now grant you this boon, you will in turn do me a favour . I will expect a complete report on the actions of the Rainbow Warriors, you will observe them at every opportunity and report everything you see.

Do not let me find you lacking in this task, my patience is wearing thin. Should your latest Gambit fail I shall intercede on your behalf, this will not be in your best interest.

Suffer not the heretic to live, cast your faith no further than the Lord of Man kind.

Dashiel Lotan.



Purge after Reading

CLASSIFICATION: Primary Level Communique
CLEARANCE: Obsidian Ultra
ENCRYPTION: Cryptox v 6.6
DATE: 339.M41
AUTHOR: Operative codename - The Player
SUBJECT: Bishop will move to take knight
RECIPIENT: Operative codename - Bishop


The King requests the aid of the Knight, the Bishop will move to ensure this is made possible.

The Knight sits upon a usurped throne, further evidence of his broken sword?

The Knight must move, only under the watch of Bishop can he be controlled.

Do not fail me,

The player.


Part 2

Namacuix strode along the corridors of the skybridge, as he had done a thousand
times before. He ran his free hand along its walls, feeling the heartbeat-like thrum of the ship reverberate through his gauntlet. He smiled as it welcomed home in its own way, another mission successfully completed, another day he lived to fight for the Emperor.

His mood darkened once more at the fact, that every cluster of his brothers that he passed were gathered in small groups of their own companies, none daring to mix with another group for fear of reprisal from their own, suspicious looks cast all around. He nodded in respect as he spotted a group of Purans discussing a fine piece of weaponry that one held within his arms, their mech-arms seemingly interacting in the air above them. They saluted in response before returning to their discussion.

A few metres later a pair of Amarils strode across the intersection ahead of him, Namacuix felt the hairs on his body raise as they passed, whatever psychic dialogue they were engaged in charging the air around them. They both turned as one, as they noticed him and saluted simultaneously, mirror images of each other, their glowing eyes regarding him dispassionately. He returned the salute as they moved off, sighing at how aloof his librarian brothers had become.

Finally he reached his own chambers, stopping as he always did to kiss the wall beside the entrance portal, the ritual something he did at the return of every battle, a personal reminder that he was alive to see his sanctum. It was just many of such rituals that he engaged in and the simplicity of it always centred him and kept him focused.

He hit the entrance stud and the portal cog rolled to one side to allow him entry. As it slid away he found Ictlan, his major-domo awaiting him. Though Namacuix towered over the much smaller form of the serf, the respect he felt for the old man was only slightly below the Emperor himself.

Kneeling, head bowed, he lifted the specimen jar he held and offered it to the figure before him. “Little Brother, I bring you a trophy for your collection.”

Ictlan grinned, taking the jar from him. “I really wish you’d cease with such dramatics, an astartes should never bow before a chapter serf, not even if they happen to be said astartes kin.”

Namacuix grinned, rising to his feet. “Not even if they are the reason he’s an astartes in the first place?”

He gripped the old man’s offered arm in the old warrior’s salute.

Ictlan laughed. “Such foolishness from a Captain of the 2nd company! You are the reason you are an astartes, not me.”

Namacuix moved passed the old man, placing his helmet upon the small unadorned desk that was pushed against one wall of his room.

“That’s nonsense and you know it little brother, had you not taken that poison dart to the leg, to prevent me from being killed, you would have completed the task and it would be you standing in my place as captain of the 2nd Company.” He growled.

Ictlan turned to look the bigger man in the eye. “Had I done so I would have lost my brother, and no sacrifice was worth seeing that happen. No, I do not for a second regret what I did that day and neither should you.”

Namacuix turned away from his brother, the shame of what had transpired that day still stuck in his throat. The trials of the aspirant were forever burned in his memory, the shame of falling at the final hurdle, the Rainbow Warriors watching from the sides as his brother raced ahead, stopping before the finish line as he realised Namacuix was not with him. His younger brother had returned to help him, throwing himself before one of the course projectiles to prevent it striking Namacuix’s throat.

Ictlan had urged him to his feet and sent him towards the finish line, so that both of them would not fail. The sacrifice that his brother had made in his name that day had honoured him beyond anything he could conceive and as such had determined the warrior he would become, striving always to ensure his brother’s sacrifice had not been in vain, for he loved his brother dearly. As he had risen through the ranks he had requested his brother to be his major-domo and the ever-humble Ictlan had agreed.

“Now, enough of this foolishness, tell me what happened planet side, the tales you bring me are something I look forward to,” He held the trophy up before him, ”and the trophies of course! What have we here anyway?” he said, eyeing it carefully.

“The head of a night breeder Brood lord, ex-sanguinated of course.” He replied as he removed his weapons placing them in their holders with delicate care, silently wording a prayer to the Emperor as he did so, another of his many rituals.

Ictlan grinned manically. “A Brood lord? This will sit nicely beside the Oruken Warlord and the reaver eldar’s helmet. A battle with a brood lord, this will be a tale to beat all others I think.” The old man limped off towards his own chamber, an annexe to the bigger chambers of his Lord.

“And a Gene-Magus, captured alive no less.” Namacuix called after him as the older man disappeared into the next room.

“Most Excellent.” The Old man called back. “I look forward to hearing it. Perhaps a cup of O-cha to calm the nerves after such a titanic struggle?”

Namacuix grinned at his brother’s eccentricity. “I do not suffer from nerves but I will accept your offer anyway.” The darkness of his earlier mood was lifted as the joy of simple discourse with Ictlan reminded him of the joys of living.

He decided he would go and see Tonauac later and purge his dark thoughts by confessing his fears to the Old Chaplain, then pray with him for the souls of his brothers who had succumbed to the red tide, those he had used in such a dark manner on the planet below them.

“Ah the fabled Astartes constitution, what must it be like it never feel fear?”

Namacuix grinned once more as the old man rambled on regarding his notions on the answers to such a question. Secretly though it was something he felt uncomfortable discussing, his brother was a link to his humanity, one that he never hoped to lose and when the conversation turned to such notions he always tried to avoid it, it only served to remind him of the differences between them. It was not that he found humanity frail because of their ability to feel fear, far from it, he had seen countless times the warriors of the Imperial Guard face such fear before conquering it and it had only made him respect them even more. It had everything though, to do with not being reminded of his post humanity, something that had given him so much yet also taken so much away.

“How can you not feel fear, facing monsters such as a brood lord? “ The old man asked re-entering the room carrying a tray, upon which sat a simple clay urn and two clay cups.

“Perhaps its something to do with being a genetically engineered killer and having the finest weapons available to mankind. I’m not sure but sometimes these things help.” Ictlan laughed constantly surprised to hear such crude jokes coming from an astartes captain.

He caught a glimmer of sadness in his brother’s eyes and his face turned grim, in that instant he knew there was something more important that Namacuix wished to discuss.

Namacuix caught the look on his brother’s face and nodded “Bifrost.”

It was all he needed to say; Ictlan knew exactly what it meant.

“He will not listen.” He said quietly.

“No, he will not.” Replied Namacuix. “The Old fool is driving this chapter to ruin, even though the madness of the red tide floods the edges of his mind, his iron-will will not allow it to consume him but the madness remains. He seeks glory and races off at every opportunity to embrace it. He cares only for the first Company and does not see the division that riddles our chapter.”

Ictlan nodded. “It gets worse every day, though they pay me no attention I see the way they look at each other, your brothers move only in groups of their own colour, none mingle. Only the Azuls still move freely and that is mostly down to you. This madness must stop.”

Namacuix stared at the floor, his head bowed in thought. “The Amarills become more and more secluded as time goes on. Their gifts turn more and more from war and instead to the seeking of knowledge and enlightenment. It is an effort for me to even keep the Librarians I have without requesting the help I need from them. It is too much.”

Ictlan listened intently as he poured O-cha into the clay cups, offering one to Namacuix.

“The Anarans barely leave the Chaplaincy anymore, the blood ritual is all they care about, Tonauac barely keeps them in check and he is barely stable himself. They need the structure and order of the chapter to keep them from falling into madness.”

He paused briefly shaking his head, before drinking deeply from his cup.

“Only the Anarans and Verdants are keeping the chapter going and they too are slipping into the old ways. The thing that worries me most is that the Red Tide sweeps more of our brothers up every year carrying them forth into madness, while we can do nothing to stop it. The armed camps that now exist will blow up in our faces if Bifrost does not do something and soon.”

Ictlan looked up from the rim of his cup. “Perhaps it is time.”

Namacuix’s brow furrowed. “Time for what.”

“For new leadership.”

“No I will not betray my chapter not even for the good of its health.”

“You would have the support of the 2nd and the others would surely follow you, Tonuauc would see to that, the Old chaplain sees you as a shining example of our chapter, he would follow you through the Cadian gate and into the gates of hell if you but asked.”

Namacuix shook his head once more. “It’s not that.”

“The prismiites? Surely they would not side with Bifrost simply because he is one of theirs?”

“No, they would not. A great many of them make up even my own chapter, as a great many of us make up the 1st, the old divisions are gone, they would not come to play.”

He looked up and stared his brother straight in the eyes. “I cannot…will not betray the chapter, it is not in my blood.”

Ictlan nodded. “I am of your Blood, would you choose me over your chapter.”

Namacuix looked shocked. “I cannot answer that, I cannot even think of betraying my chapter it, my mind cannot even fathom it. To be given that choice, to have to make that decision-“

He stopped as he noticed the smile on his brother’s face. “Then it is a good thing you will never have to make that choice.”

The sound of Namacuix laughing was interrupted by the sound of the portal chime.

“Enter.” He called out, as both he and Ictlan rose to their feet.

They both saluted as Namacuix’s second in command Borlung entered the chamber; stopping before them he returned the gesture.

“My Lord, I bring grave tidings. The Lord Captain and the men of the Rosians have returned to the surface-“

“What!?” Namacuix roared, cutting his brother off. “What the hell is he up to now. Borlung gather the command squad, I wish to know what the hell is going on.” Borlung nodded and headed off.

Namacuix turned once more to his major-domo.

Ictlan nodded at him, knowing what he must do. “The plot thickens, perhaps you should put more thought into what we discussed.”

Namacuix shook his head sadly, as he lifted his weapons. “Perhaps the old fool will force my hand after all.”


Several hours later found Namacuix and his men striding along the gilded corridors of the Imperial palace of the Void’s Edge governor. From the look of the place it was obvious to see where all of the world’s riches went, huge marble pillars standing in contrast to the gold filigree all around.

The Captain grimaced as he noticed large groups of unarmed PDF troopers being herded by his brothers of the First Company. None of the veterans saluted as he passed and Namacuix gritted his teeth at the slight. Finally, he reached the grand chamber and two of Bifrost’s men moved to intercept them, barring their path.

“Move aside.” He roared as he and his men shouldered passed them, daring them to draw weapons. Borlung growled as he eyed one of them, the young warrior eager to defend his captain’s honour.

Namacuix hoped it would not come to blows, the majority of his company were half a sub-sector away and he would need their numbers if worse came to worse.

He swept onwards into the grand chamber, his cloak fluttering with the motion, his helmet held in the crux of his left arm, while the hand of his right gripped his sword’s pommel tightly.

He stared agog as he noticed the bulky form of the Chapter Commander sitting upon the raised throne of the Governors office, arrayed before him were a squad of 1st company veterans, their weapons aimed at the governor and nineteen of his retinue. The planets hierarchy kneeled before their captors, all with terrified looks upon their face, several of them where whimpering as their bowels loosened, soiling the floor around them. Only the Governor stared ahead defiantly, though his courage seemed somewhat tested by the fact that his entire face was almost covered by the barrel opening of the boltgun held in front of his face.

“My Lord! What is the meaning of this?” He cried, pointing at the Governor.

Bifrost grinned maniacally. “These fools have failed their world and the master of mankind, they are not fit to lead.” He raised his fist and smashed it against the arm of the throne. “We shall rule in their stead, restoring order in the Emperor’s name.”

“I must remind you my Lord, but we do not have the power to do such a thing without Terran consent. We cannot allow any more of their attention to be focussed upon us, as it is we are lucky not to have been investigated. This, “ He said, pointing once more at the governor’s retinue, “this will be a step to far, they will come down upon us like the Hounds of Mictlan themselves!”

“It is my decision to make.” Bifrost replied, his grin spreading wider, like a child who knows he is doing wrong in the face of his parents but carries on anyway, “This world belongs to us now.”

He closed his fist and the sounds of ten Bolters barking twice, rung out across the chamber.

Namacuix gripped his weapon and was on the cusp of drawing it but stopped as he saw his men waiting for his command. Instead he pointed up at the Chapter Commander. “You go too far my Lord, I pray to the Emperor that, for your sake, this does not destroy us.”

He gripped his cloak and turned away, marching smartly off as his men followed in his wake, the sound of Bifrost’s laughter followed them out, taunting them.
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Default Part 3


Purge after Reading

CLASSIFICATION: Primary Level Communique
CLEARANCE: Obsidian Ultra
ENCRYPTION: Cryptox v 6.6
DATE: 339.M41
AUTHOR: Operative codename - Bishop
SUBJECT: Bishop will move to take knight
RECIPIENT: Operative codename - The Player

The Player,

The Bishop moves now to fulfill the Player's request.

Should Broken sword indeed be revealed, will Bishop move to take knight?

Control will be maintained at all costs.

I will not fail,


Part 3

Namacuix walked along the silent corridor, the ringing of his boots on the metal grille almost as loud in his ears as the beating of his twin hearts. He pulled the cowl that covered his face tighter and upped his pace until finally his goal was in sight.

The Green insignia of the Apothecarion filled his vision, emblazoned as it was upon the portal entrance to the medicae bay. Reaching forward he pressed the entrance stud, hearing the soulful chime, he awaited someone to acknowledge his presence.

Finally, after a few minutes the portal’s cog like barrier rolled to one side, inviting him forward, confusion flashed across his features as he realised no one was there to greet him. He stepped forward anyway entering the bay, scanning his surroundings as he searched for the presence of any of his brothers.

Finding no one, he carried on walking past the various groups of cogitator banks and into the bay wards. A sudden thought came upon him and he walked on through into a vast cavern like facility that served as the home to the chapter’s secret shame.

He stopped unsure whether to continue but did so anyway, walking passed the huge tank vats, he kept his eyes on the narrow gang-way, avoiding looking at the contents of the vats.

He reached an intersection and stopped, turning to his left, he knelt before one of the only vats he had visited before. He looked up and took in the form floating within the tank. He placed his closed fist to his mouth as though in contemplation.

“It’s been a long time Brother Captain,” he whispered, eyeing the brass plaque that identified the marine who inhabited the tank.

“I have missed your guidance, Tezuma.”

He looked up at the patriarchal features of the tank’s inhabitant then closed his eyes and thought back to the first time he had met the Brother Captain.

“Your Brother will survive his wounds young Nama, you must not allow his sacrifice to be in vain. Come it is time for us to leave.” Tezuma’s mighty hand had reached down filling his tear soaked vision, Namacuix placed his own much smaller hand upon it.

He had winced when the Astartes had closed his hand, thinking it would crush his own, however, there was little pressure in the surprisingly delicate grip.

“Do not fear your destiny boy, for all those who would aspire to be Warriors of the sky bridge must embrace it.” He had said as he led the young boy away.

Namacuix had only nodded dumbly and allowed himself to be led, fighting back more tears as he realised he may never see his brother again.

“When the Rainbow Warriors first arrived and linked our world with Prism, our people embraced them, as was only right. For the sky bridge allowed us to share our supplies with our twin world, providing us with the medicines that would save our people. Now as payment for the boon that was granted us by Tlacelel, father of men and his Rainbow Warriors, the greatest warriors of Tonal must follow them across the sky bridge and offer their strength to guard his realm.” Tezuma said, continuing his lecture, “In his benevolence he has chosen you to for this task, now I will ask you, are you up to the task?”

Namacuix had listened fascinated by the tale of the sky bridge, though he had heard it many times before he had never heard it from one of the Warriors of the sky bridge themselves.

“Well?” Asked Tezuma. It took Namacuix several seconds to realise that he had been asked a question.

He squared his shoulders and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“I am ready to cross the sky bridge and I will serve the father of men to the best of my ability, in honour of my brother.”

Tezuma laughed then, the tension of the moment seemingly broken by the young warriors confident answer. Namacuix looked up confused by the astartes sudden change in demeanour.

“My Lord?” He asked.

Tezuma swept up his hand once more. “Come it would not to do to keep him waiting.”

“Keep who waiting my Lord?” Said Namacuix, now more confused than ever.

“Why,” Said Tezuma smiling, “your brother of course. Though he is not strong enough to become a Rainbow Warrior, he will join you on the Sky Bridge none the less.”

Tears came freely once more as Namacuix ran forward to embrace the Old warriors leg, who laughed uproariously at the young child’s actions.

“May Tlacelel grant you peace my Brother.” He whispered once more, smiling at the memory of the old Warrior.

He placed his open palm on the surface of the tank and began to whisper a second prayer when the his former Captain’s eyes shot open.

Namacuix rose to his feet, stumbling away from the tank, as Tezuma gritted his teeth and growled in frustration. The old warrior thrashed against the inside of the tank, the isolation fluid muffling the sound, giving it an eerie detached quality.

“My Brother…..” He whispered, disbelieving of the enraged form that now consumed the old warrior.

“Not anymore.” Said a voice behind him and Namacuix spun to see who had spoken.

“Hiemdallr.” He said as he saw the old Apothecarion Lord standing before him.

The second marine nodded and strode passed Namacuix, keying a complex pattern of numbers into a keypad on the side of the tank.

The isolation fluid within took on a crimson tinge and Tezuma slipped once more into a deep sleep.

“I’m sorry Lord Apothecary, I did not mean to disturb his rest.” He said, feeling shame at invading the old warrior’s inner sanctum.

“Nonsense lad, so few of us come now, that it seems we have forgotten our lost brethren. It does my heart proud to see that the captain of the Azuls is not guilty of such crimes.”

Namacuix nodded sadly, eyeing the vats once more. “It seems that our brothers do not wish to face the darker side of their destiny.”

“No, they do not, though it would appear that in the current climate that is the least of our chapters problems,” Hiemdallr moved away from the tanks, heading back to the wards, Namacuix followed in his wake.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of such esteemed company? Is the old man finally granting my request?” The apothecary called over his shoulder.

“Request?” answered Namacuix.

Hiemdallr stopped and turned to face Namacuix. “You mean you know nothing of my request?”

“I’m sorry my Lord but on this matter I must plead ignorance, the Lord Captain Commander and I have not seen eye to eye of late.”

“Ah, I had heard about that, terrible business, however sometimes we must follow where our Lord leads us, even be they dark paths, that we would not have chosen ourselves.”

Namacuix smiled. “Listen to you Hiemdallr, I have been a full astartes for almost two and a half centuries, I have been Captain of the second for almost a third of that time and here you are still lecturing me like I’m some child aspirant.”

Hiemdallr did not see the humour in the situation. “I will always be your senior lad , remember it was I who made you what you are today.”

Namacuix bowed his head to hide his smile.” I meant no disrespect, my old friend, please forgive me.”

The apothecary nodded sagely, a smile passing across his own face. “None taken, now about my request, I have almost ninety neophytes who are ready for induction into the scouts of verdant. They need to face some action and soon, their aggression needs to be vented, I cannot allow it to fester.”

Namacuix nodded. “I will personally authorise, their induction and as for action, as soon as something arises then they will be given their opportunity.”

The apothecary offered his arm in salute. “Thank you, lad. Now how can I help you?”

Namacuix sighed. “I came here to speak with you because I wanted to know the feelings of the Verdant.”

The apothecary who was in the middle of typing something into a cogitator bank stopped what he was doing. “Feelings?”

“Feelings,” He re iterated, nodding as he did so. “How are Verdant’s relations with the others?” Hiemdallr did not need to ask to know what he was referring to.

“Cordial,” he replied, “at best.”

Namacuix shook his head.

“The Verdant will always maintain links with the other companies but of late their wild demands have put a strain on that relationship. They clamour for fresh recruits as more and more of them fall to the red tide.”

The old Apothecary stood up, handing Namacuix a data slate.

“That details all the requests we have received in the past quarter, their demands far outweigh what we can provide. Several bitter arguments have erupted recently, right here in my own sanctum. Only the Anarans still listen, they understand our dilemma.”

Namacuix scanned the data slate, gritting his teeth as he saw the terse words displayed there, the sheer amount of requests was staggering.

“We do our best to placate everyone but I fear it will not be long before it comes to blows.”

Namacuix grimaced as he realised his own company had taken the bulk of the scouts from the last drive, probably putting more strain on the Verdants to placate the others.

“Keep me informed on this, I want to know every detail of every request, I want numbers and quotas and well anything you think will allow me to see the bigger picture, this Chapter must survive, despite its own leaders best intentions.” It showed the confidence that Hiemdallr shared with the Captain that he let that barb slide without reprieve, though it shocked the old man that Namacuix would openly say such things.

“With regards to my company’s own demands, you may lessen our quota, I had not realised that you were maintaining it to the detriment of the others. No longer will I maintain that burden on you, I shall speak with the other Captains and alert them of the situation, I fully intend to lighten your load my Lord.”

Hiemdallr seemed to brighten with every word. “I thank you once more Lad, this will help more than you know.”

“I must go now, Tonauac will not be pleased that I have kept him waiting. Keep up the good work and remember, keep me informed of all that transpires here!” He cried over his shoulder as he strode away, departing from the bay.
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post #7 of 95 (permalink) Old 11-23-09, 12:03 AM Thread Starter
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Anyone other than me and Waltz reading this?
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I haven't yet, but I'll try catching up soon, looking pretty interesting from I can see though.

“Evil is relative…You can’t hang a sign on it. You can’t touch it or taste it or cut it with a sword. Evil depends on where you are standing, pointing your indicting finger.”
-Glen Cook, The Black Company

Tales of Heroism and Bravery, in the 41st Millennium and the Old World. Perhaps some Realm Gate Wars in the future .

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If I could only rep you again... I would do so... Hahaha... Can't wait for the next upd8...
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Default Part 4



Tertiary Level Communique
ENCRYPTION: Cryptox v 3.3
DATE: 339.M41
AUTHOR: Arken Phlebas, Lord Governor, Soliban Prime
SUBJECT: Further reports regarding our most desperate of situations
RECIPIENT: Dashiel Primus Lotan, Lord Inquisitor, Ordo Hereticus Headquarters Segmentum Tempestus

Lord Inquisitor,

I agree fully with your terms and thank you most graciously for your assistance, though I must beg of you that you move will all haste, the situation here is becoming more desperate. As requested I have forwarded on both the autopsy report you requested and the Vox logs of the survivor interrogation.

I do not presume to make demands of you but the sooner the Noble Rainbow Warriors arrive to reinforce us the better, for I fear without their aid this planet will fall.

As always my loyalty remains to the Throne.

Arken Phlebas, Lord Governor.


Autopsy Report

:- Classified
Subject :- Classified
Mortician:- Biologis Magos Jenon.

Magos code - Beta Prime.

Each of the three corpses returned from the war zone showed startling degrees of degradation, their deaths almost certainly Violent in the extreme.

The first corpse was little more than a skin sack, the internal organs completely pulped and in several instances entirely missing. Further investigation of the ‘corpse’ found little next to no signs of contamination or even mutation.

The second corpse, itself not much better than the first was slightly more complete in the sense that its ‘battle wounds’ were a little less severe, its skeleton was almost completely whole and of course that it had a head. This fact is what enabled us to discover a slight aberration in the size of the Brain. In this case the brain had reduced in size by almost 40%.

However I was unable to conclude how significant this fact was as the third corpse, though I now use that term lightly, became animated during the procedure; killing three of my adepts in the process. Though I am at a loss to explain this, as the wounds it had suffered should have killed it three times over. The PDF commander decided it was better that we burn the corpses and any further study be abandoned.

Though I concur with his decision I have taken it upon myself to study the second corpse in greater, hopefully the aberration in brain size will perhaps provide an answer to this most pressing of problems.

+++++LOG terminated+++++

Vox recording file number:- 3119954
Telepathic Duct:- Astropath Terminus Juliens
Ref:- Prisoner interrogation Astor 452

PDF Sergeant Vilas - Tell us how it happened…..

External source screams, scuffling commotion in the room. Fifty nine seconds later interrogation continues.

Prisoner - P-please help me, the eyes…..the eyes….I can’t get them out of my head.

SV - Ignore them and answer the question, then you will receive the help you require.

Silence maintained for a further thirty nine seconds.

Prisoner whispers something vox fails to pick up on.

- Please repeat that, louder this time so we can hear you.

Prisoner whispers again, vox picks out only two words ‘Dead’ and ‘She’

Loud noise as SV kicks the table

- Louder!

P - W-we didn’t know she was dead…..

SV - Who?

P - The old Woman….and then she….she began biting people, her eyes though, her eyes…. They tore at my soul….I…I…..

Commotion as prisoner drops to the floor, suffering from some kind of fit.

- Damn it get a medic in here n…

Transcript is lost as SV begins to scream.

- Damn it I’ve been bit, the frakker bit me. What the hell are you fools doing? Im not the threat!

Transmission terminates to the sound of several Hellguns being fired.


Purge after Reading

CLASSIFICATION: Primary Level Communique
CLEARANCE: Obsidian Ultra
ENCRYPTION: Cryptox v 6.6
DATE: 339.M41
AUTHOR: Operative codename - The Player
SUBJECT: Bishop will initiate Gambit
RECIPIENT: Operative codename - Bishop


Initiate Gambit, destination Priism.

Knight will move to support King.

Should Knight turn in his loyalty, Secondary Gambit Red Hunter will be engaged.

Do your best to prevent Secondary Gambit becoming necessary,


Namacuix walked slowly along the darkened corridor, unsure as to whether Tonauac would be awaiting him. He sincerely hoped the Old warrior would not be angered by his tardiness, the discussion with Heimdallr had taken longer than he expected, for the items the apothecary had divulged had given him much to chew on. Now he could only wait to see what other surprises a similar talk with Tonauac would reveal. Truly he had not expected to return to find the Skybridge enmeshed in such a disturbing state.

His normaly self confident bearing began to ebb, only to be replaced by confusion as he realised something was not right within the halls of the Purans. The normally bustling chaplaincy barracks were unusually quiet and a familiar aroma filled the air. This smell could only signify one thing.

The Captain snarled in anger as he strode through the mist filling the air around him, he recognised the incense of the blooding ritual instantly, having received the sacred blessing many times in his past. Though for once the pungent aroma was not welcome, as realisation hit home that being the current Commander of the Skybridge forces, he had neither given his consent nor had it requested for the ritual to be engaged.

He gripped his fists tightly as he strode on through the smog shrouded hall, heading for the ritual chamber, surely Tonauac of all people, would not have gone behind his back.

His suspicions were confirmed as he entered the main chamber to find a ten man squad of the Rosians kneeling in the centre of the vast room. Namacuix peered through the surrounding darkness to see the darkened forms of several Purans, each hidden behind their ceremonial skull helms, standing before bulky altars. Further study revealed the alien forms strewn across these altar blocks, their exposed chests pulled taught. Namacuix’s eyes shifted to the largest of the altars and the imposing figure who stood before it.

Tonauac’s golden deathshead helm seemed to take Namacuix’s presence in, though the father chaplain displayed no signs of registering his presence. The yellowed skull returned its focus to the offering before it, drawing the dark pin pricks of light that lit its hollowed eye sockets, away from the Captain of the Third.

“You offered your physical body to the Emperor’s service to become one of his immortal warriors,“ the Chaplain’s booming voice filled the chamber, “and you were rewarded with acceptance, the challenge of this transformation was placed before you, the goal to shed the weakness of your mortal form and transcend your humanity to become a servant of the God Emperor. Yet you failed in this most holy of tasks, your weaknesses too great for you to ascend, your body now displayed here broken, your failings plain for all to see. Yet even in this, the moment of your greatest weakness you have chosen to offer yourself to others as an example; not in failing but in strength. The life blood that will flow forth from your sacrifice will be used to spurn your former brothers onwards.” The Chaplain hefted a large dagger above his head, the sharpness of the gilded blade glinting even in the darkness which surrounded it.

All around him the other Lords mirrored his movement and raised their own knives until all seven blades were held high and poised to strike.

Namacuix inhaled deeply, feeling the powerful scent of the incense fill his nostrils, the heady brew stirring powerful emotions within him, the blooding ritual had this effect on all who would partake in it. He exhaled loudly feeling his aggression surge to the forefront of his mind once more, images of past battles flashing through his mind calling to him, singing a song of battle lust directly to his soul.

“Accept the peace that this knowledge will bring you. Know that in failing you have gained a small measure of victory. Know that the Emperor will still accept your soul to his grand halls. Most of all know that, by willingly allowing your lifeblood to mingle with that of xenos kind, that you will overcome your failings just as the purity of your life blood purges the taint of xenos corruption.”

Tonauac drove his blade into the chest of the aspirant, tearing the flesh and causing his victim to scream until his throat filled with his own viscosity changing the sound to a dying gurgle. All around the Master of sacrifices, a facsimile of the scene was played out as the other chaplains drove their own blades into the chests of the xenos before them. A cacophony of death screams filled the chamber, Namacuix drunk the noise in deeply, the piteous whines of dying xenos like a hymnal to the God- Emperor of man. His eyes fixed on the body of a Slann-Saurian as it thrashed like a gutted fish, its screeches filling the air, before quickly descending into an unnatural quiet as its life force was spent. Finally there was a couple of further screams from the others before the noise died down entirely leaving a deathly silence.

Namacuix felt his blood boil as Tonuauc lifted the still beating heart of his aspirant clear of its host. Holding the vibrant red organ before him, he began to chant calling to the favours of the God Emperor, holding the organ to face the huge tapestry that filled the roof above them, where the Emperor’s magestic form looked down upon them, his face split down the middle to display the twin visages of his Tonalian Sun god and Prismiite Moon God forms.

Namacuix watched as his brothers of the Rosians seemed to slip into a darkened trance, their bodies spasming violently as the blood induced memories of battles overtook them. Several other figures now strode forward, most taking their place beside the rigid forms of the chaplains who even now stood displaying their grisly wares, while yet more forms moved to stand around the prone forms of the Rosians.

Namacuix knew that the next few moments would be crucial, any of the Rosians displaying odd behaviour would be quickly subdued lest the red tide overcome them to create havoc within this most holy of chambers. The Captain of the Azuls bit down on his cheek, allowing blood to flow freely within his mouth and flashes of pain to ground him in the present, it would not do for him to slip into the battle trance here when a clear head was what he needed most. His iron will struggled to maintain his composure but it was no easy task. Lifting his head from facing the floor he once more took in the scene before him, picking out details and keeping himself centred as the edges of his vision swam with memories of battlegrounds long lying silent in the past.

Tonauac turned around and holding the heart before him, squeezed its contents into a strange funnel shaped instrument held out to him by one of the many chapter serfs which served the Master of Sacrafices. Namacuix watched as a rainbow riot of colours began to pour down a long series of chutes which ran from each of the altars to the centre of the room. Each of these chutes met in the centre of the room converging to create a multicoloured river prevented from mingling by the walled lining of their individual passages.

A single figure strode forward and Namacuix recognised Yingarna, the young Master of Ceremonies, his silver skull helm the dark mirror of Tonauac’s flashed in the darkness. Yingarna was the moon to Tonauac’s sun, each designed to represent the Emperor in his twin roles of Sun Warrior, Violence resplendent and Moon Lord, wise Leader.

Namacuix watched as the Chaplain strode forward to dip a wide brush made from the hair of brothers lost in battle, into the bright red fluid in the biggest of the pots which even now continued to fill as the last of the dead aspirants blood flowed from him. Lifting the brush forward, he nodded and one of the Puran Templars who flanked him strode forward to clasp the head of the first Rosian between open palms. Yingarna then matched these movements before running the brush down the face of the warrior of the first, from the centre of his scalp all the way to line of his chin, down to where the base of his neck met the rim of his chest plate. Turning away once more, the Master of Ceremonies took a second smaller brush from a waiting serf and in turn dipped it into the second pot, this one holding the bright orange lifeblood of the Virindians, a race of bovine like xenos. Then, as before, he turned back to the Rosian and ran twin streaks of the life blood on each side of the first.

Namacuix was transfixed by the simplicity of such a task, a simplicity that was not reflected in its meaning to the Chapter for the Red Blood of the aspirant reflected the purity of Mankind and it was displayed proudly upon the centre of a Rainbow Warriors face where it held fast against the myriad races arrayed against it. This simple display was designed to show the unflinching power of humankind.

Namacuix turned to face Tonauac knowing that now his part of the ceremony was over, perhaps he would have his chance to speak with him. The old chaplain’s eyes met his before the Chaplain turned away, his long cape flowing behind him as he and the other Lords of the Sacrifice left the chamber. Namacuix rose to his feet making the sign of the Aquila before placing his palm vertically to the centre of his face, in the traditional salute of the Rainbow warriors, then turned and followed in Tonauac’s wake.

“What is the meaning of this? Who authorised a Blooding Ceremony and why wasn’t I consulted.” Namacuix demanded as he burst into the Old warrior’s audience chamber, disregarding the usual required entrance protocols as his anger continued to overtake him. Tonauac sighed loudly, refusing to turn and face the raging captain, removing his helm, the Old warrior placed it on the desk in front of him.

“I did only as I was requested by the Master of this chapter, his men are apparently seeing quite a bit of action on planetside,” Namacuix arched his eyebrow at this and Tonauac realised this waas soething else the young Captain had not been told about, “apparently there is some resistance to the enforced regime change.“ Namacuix nodded motioning for him to continue. “It is of course my duty to ensure they are prepared. I had thought to tell you of this my Boy and had I thought for a moment that Bifrost would not have done so himself, I would have done. I now can only offer my sincerest apologies. That the Commander should slight the honour of the Captain of the Third, the current Master of the Skybridge no less and that I should compound such an insult further shames me fully. You have every right to be angry Namacuix and for that I will ignore your unforgivable breech of protocol, however you allow your anger to get the better of you and that I will not tolerate.” The Old warrior turned finally to face him, his features dark and as Namacuix took in the noble bearing of the ancient warrior, his face began to colour once more.

“My apologies my Lord, for the second time in the past few days I have been scolded for acting like the young aspirant I once was.” Namacuix bowed his head to show his shame.

Tonauac grinned, were his features not so strained and desiccated, Namacuix was sure this was meant to be a paternal smile, instead translated as a rictus grin, a parting of his fleshless lips to show altogether too much teeth.

“It is I who should be shamed Namacuix. You are the Captain of the Azuls now, not the foolish novitiate I once had flogged for sneaking in to view one of my blooding ceremonies.” This time it was the Chaplain’s turn to bow his head. Namacuix positively beamed at the honour the old man had just bestowed on him.

Tonauac grinned once more. “Though perhaps Heimdallr did not scold you enough.”

Namacuix looked up sharply. “How did you know?”

“There are only two astartes in the whole chapter who could command the kind of respect it would take to scold you and it could only be the Captain of the Verdants who would dare do so.” Tonauac lifted a small urn from his desk and began to pour a clear liquid into a clay cup. “Apart from myself of course.”

He placed the cup to his lips and supped deeply from the draught. “Now, I cannot believe that you have the gift of the Amarils.” Namacuix raised an eyebrow as Tonauac continued. “You would have needed the gift of foresight, or perhaps an obscene amount of luck to have come to the chaplaincy purely to interrupt the blooding ceremony so I cannot believe that was your reason for seeking me.”

Namacuix nodded in agreement. “I came to apologise for breaking our previously agreed meeting time.”

Tonauac watched the Captain from behind the rim of his cup, knowing that there was more to it than a simple need to apologise.

“I wish to discuss the current problems that plague our Chapter.” He continued matching the old man’s stare.

Tonauac turned replacing the cup on the desk. “Ah, now we get to the rub.”

“As Captain of the Purans, you yourself must have seen what is happening, the isolation of the great companies, the degradation of the teachings of the Imperial Codex, the rising numbers of those succumbing to the red tide. I cannot ignore it any longer.” Namacuix spoke with a hard edge to his voice, allowing Tonauac to once again sense the iron resolve the boy possessed.

“Nor would I expect you to my boy, these problems cannot be lain simply at the feet of the Commander either, something is rotten within the core of our foundations.”

Namacuix sensed the Old warrior was trying to warn him of something but did not feel right to pursue it further, instead he allowed Tonauac to continue to lead the conversation.

“Bifrost has failed in his duties two fold firstly he has severed his own leadership from the Chapter and secondly in sending you on countless quests away from the Skybridge he has robbed us of the one person who has the power to unite us once more.”

Namacuix blinked in confusion, surely his brother was exaggerating his belief in Namacuix’s abilities, though it was true he wished to expunge the cancer from the heart of his chapter, he had no intentions of stepping over his mark and trying to lead his Chapter, insurrection was as abhorrent to him as turning his face from the Emperor’s light.

“The chapter has fragmented under the lack of leadership, there are those who work from within to undermine any attempt to reverse this.”

Tonauac turned away once more, lifting his helm from the desk and placing it within a small cabinet upon the wall, touching his fingers to his lips he pressed them against the forehead portion of the helm and whispered a small prayer before closing the casing.

Once more Namacuix felt that the Old man wished to say more but was stopping himself from going further, though the Captain of the Azuls felt unsettled by the underlining tone apparent in Tonauac’s casting suspicion on others of the chapter seemed below a brother of such stature.

Namacuix felt he was left with two choices; ask Tonauac straight out who he was referring to, or go back to the start and discover where this all started. He quickly decided he needed to look at the bigger picture.

“How did this happen? When did our chapter slide so dangerously close to oblivion?” If Tonauac was surprised by the change in direction he showed no outward sign.

“I cannot tell you when it began, or how. I can merely speculate on the causes; lack of leadership, the red tide-” Tonauac paused as Namacuix interrupted him.

“I know all of this already but what I do not understand is the paranoia and fractious natures that are now apparent within the great companies. I cannot walk from one part of the Skybridge to another without crossing armed squads of brothers, armed here on the Skybridge and against threat of what? Retribution from their own brothers? This ship is supposed to be the one place that our Chapter Brothers can be at ease with each other, instead they view each other with suspicion and distrust, so much so that I am surprised we have not had open conflict in the barracks.”

Tonauac sat down upon a chair, raising his hands to his face, he viewed his brother through steepled fingers. “It’s the rumours.”

“Rumours?” Queried Nama, his interest piqued.

“Rumours that the red tide is contagious, that it spreads through contact.”

Namacuix dropped into the chair facing Tonauac, his shoulders sagging as those words flowed through his mind.

“That is beyond foolishness.” He was truly lost for words, how could his brothers fall for such stupidity.

Tonauac said nothing, he simply watched as Namacuix put everything together.

“How could such idiocy have gripped this Chapter, why did you not stop it?” Tonauac knew the question was coming but was still surprised by the iciness of Namacuix’s words.

“I tried but as I said, I have been undermined, even by those within my own company.” Namacuix shook his head sadly at the Old Man’s words.

He thundered the desk in front of him with the base of his fist. “This ends now.” Namacuix rose to his feet, anger plain on his face. “I intend to return this chapter to its former glory and I’ll need your help in this endeavour. Do I have your support?”

He offered his hand to the Chaplain in the warriors salute. Tonauac grinned before gripping the offered forearm.

“Of course you have my support. There are none more deserving of it than you.”

Namacuix nodded, proud that this most respected of chapter brothers would show such faith in him.

“Good, then I shall begin by tearing down the walls that our brothers have built amongst themselves. It is time this Chapter became whole once more.”

Finally the young captain saluted and turned away.

“Be ready, when the time comes I will need your guidance.” Tonauac nodded his assent.

“You will have it.”

With his back turned Namacuix did not see the sly grin that had appeared on the Chaplain’s face, nor the dark machinations hidden behind the expression.

Last edited by the_unchanged; 11-23-09 at 07:37 PM.
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