The Emperor's Blood.

[beaviz81]

Just my fiction about the Warhammer 40.000 universe taking place on the death-world of Freudakia, a place once of lush jungles and such, but now increasingly under the thumb of the industrial planet Ciralix and the Adeptus Mechanicus due to the planet's riches in mineral wealth. Freudakia is a Deathworld were camouflage is everything while visibility means exposure and plain death even the commissars have learned that lesson and embraced it with camo-cloaks and other items of misdirection.

The Emperor's Blood.

Chapter I

The Catachans was stealthily taking up positions in the Freudakian jungle. The hunt for the dreaded warboss Draznob had gone on for quite a while. The losses had been astonishing on both sides, yet they knew even as they sat up their position they were likely doing their last ambush as they were low on anything. Many of the heavy weapons were without ammunition or had simply been overused and had malfunctioned. Even their simple lasguns was starting to show an immense wear and tear.

Even so the battle in the jungle was imminent, a huge horde of Orks were swarming in on their position. Colonel James Stremm gave his last commands. The Ogryn-sized big-jawed fellow with greyish crew-cut and huge muscles even for a Catachan retrieved his Heavy-Bolter Big Bertha for the final time loading it with the run-strap magazines and exited the camouflaged tent.

The Orks came swarming at the thin Imperial line, booby-traps and precise lasgun-fire leveled the first wave. The second wave was of tougher more heavily armed Orks. They shrugged off any but the best placed lasgun-shots. Even Big Bertha had problems whittling down the members of the Warboss’ retinue that slowly was charging towards his squad, having already cut a platoon to ribbons.

Two of the creatures were remaining charging towards Stremm and his bodyguards. He resigned himself to his fate looking at the immense Warboss, yet a shadow intervened. The head of the closest Ork Nob came flying off, the body just ran off in a random direction, before it stumbled at some sandbags having no virtual control of how it ran around anymore just like chickens getting beheaded. While the head continued to insult Stremm who merely stomped on it to shut it up.

The shadow revealed itself. It was a fine looking young commissar, clad all in blackish, the suit blended so well in with the shadows even the Catachans hadn’t seen him until now. Yet he was in serious trouble because right behind him towered an Ork Warboss of epic proportions. “Another scumsucker bites the dust.” The commissar voiced it with gratification like he weren’t aware of the threat right behind him.

“How but me ooomie!?” A snarling gurgling voice said behind the man, who miraculously managed to deflect the Power Klaw-blow with his chainsword, and managed to make it whistle past him, just barely grazing the black armour. The commissar immediately pounced striking at the Power Klaw, disabling it. Yet the freed ork-hand slammed the commissar into the nearest Freudakian hardwood.

“That you shouldn’t have done!” The commissar roared just as the ork tried to raise his kombi-flamer to him. He was faster, the hissing meltagun immediately disabled the weapon and vaporized the arm of the ork. Yet the commissar made his first mistake in the duel buoyed up by seeing an easy kill, he ran closer to the Warboss roaring: “Now you die you beast!” He pulled the trigger but a forcefield erupted around the Warboss neutralizing the blast.

The one-armed bandit didn’t let an opportunity go from him and pounced at the commissar who for once reacted too slow and got bodyslammed. He grabbed the meltagun of the struggling human and tore it off the chains, but as he did he felt a sting in his arm. The commissar had from his jacket-sleeves brandished two monofilament-knives. Reacting quickly Draznob kicked away the flailing man before the second arm was taken away.

He saw the man smash into a large pine making it sway. A spider-monkey immediately landed at his right shoulder, he tossed it straight at Draznob, who caught and squashed it mid-air. Next he felt a burning pain in his remaining shoulder and saw two poisoned knives the commissar doubtless had hidden in his black eupalets. Just as he sped towards the huge ork, brandishing two new knives. The commissar jumped on Draznob with cat-like grace, all intent on finishing the job despite substantial injuries inside of him.

The knives slashed at the throat of the Ork as the commissar tried to avoid the huge fist of Draznob. It got him. It clenched hard around the struggling human. It was not enough for Draznob he was intent to finish this man once and for all, he bit after him, but a surprising head-butt from the human brought the eye of Draznob into finger-distance of him. He slammed home an armoured finger tearing right into the eye it hard, hard metal tore into the soft tissue of the eye. The pain made Draznob ease his hold of the commissar who then got up his Uplifting Primer from inside his greatcoat.

That he brutally showed into the other eye, then came the las-chisel up, it was ignited. Draznob stopped. He stood there as a statue just leaning, with a burning small book inside his skull.

The commissar was anything but graceful now as he with a big goofy grin stumbled towards the Catachans, knowing full and well they likely would just butcher him for his trouble of saving the command-squad. He giggled like a small boy watching an Ogryn firing a Heavy Bolter in the distance, he knew his wounds were mortal.

He finally fell stumbling at an exposed root he dead-drunk wouldn’t hit. He now tried to think about the Emperor. Instead visions of his life flashed before him. He saw his proud tutors at the Schola, how he himself advanced to become one, he saw his friends, he saw the good times and most of all he saw his fiance.

Infact he saw only her as he landed face down in a puddle of mud, no more than an inch or two deep. He laid there dreaming letting go of life just seeing her sweet face. He knew he should focus on the Emperor yet her lure were stronger. He passed out trying to whisper her name with his last breath.

[beaviz81]

What the commissar lying dying in the mud didn't realize, was that he was dead-wrong about the Catachans. His teachings that the Catachans were some sort of Ogryns had been all misinterpretation and lies as he had taken their physique and guttural dialect to be related to Ogryns. Yet they strove forward meeting the overwhelming number of orks at the quagmire they called a battlefield. Even huge Freudakian hardwoods toppled after badly aimed ork bolter-shots and other heavy ordinance tore into them as they tried to hit the surging and swift-footed Catachans.

The first over to the commissar was a tall muscular 17 year old man with the name Julius Cavenaugh. He swiftly turned the commissar over. "Damn, man you did a-" He didn't come farther before a bolt tore off half his right hand. He fell back, knowing he was dying. Suddenly he saw her a lithe, very pretty commissar in her early twenties. "Bite this!" She put his Catachan combat-knife in his mouth while she spoke in her broken, hoarse yet pleasant voice with a slight cling of aristocracy. Then she drew her laspistol and cauterized the wound.

"Impressive. Not a whimper, and that's pain most screams like hell over." She stared into the dazed eyes of Cavenaugh. Then she realized he was going into shock due to the loss of limp. She smacked him in the face. "Stay awake." Quickly she got the adrenalin-syringe up with a knife. She rapidly ripped the t-shirt of the guy open. Then sat the syringe. He came convulsing back to life. "Stay awake boy!!! That's a frakking order soldier!" His eyes shone with defiance. "You don't order me around commissar." He gargled weakly. "What's your name commissar?"

She had already turned her attention to the other commissar, starting to administer first-aid to him. Cavenaugh could hardly see her even as she was only mere steps away from him. "Michelle Ionza, Deathworld sniper, commissar and Drill-Abbess of the Schola Freudakia, and this is my fiance and fellow Drill Abbott Zachary Carrus. Your turn soldier." She smiled almost motherly towards him as she continued to work at her fallen mate. Then she hissed into the vox. "Commissar Ionza here, call-sign 52 Alpha-Lima-Delta, where are those reinforcements? Over."

Cavenaugh just saw her press her ear. Now he realized those were not normal humans as he saw under the gash of the male's forehead was shiny metal underneath the blood and flesh. While setting shots of stabilizers in her beloved, she worked rapidly not noticing a huge ork approaching her, then savagely kicked her as she turned to face it. She hit a Freudakian hardwood with a snarl several meters away, she immediately dragged out power rapier, blackish, not very pretty, yet quite sleek and up came her bolt pistol as well. It was of an elegant black design, sleek yet finely crafted with an oddly bulky 30 round sickle magazine. She fired a few rounds at the ork that harmlessly bounced off it's thick armour. Next she took cover behind a Freudakian hardwood as the ork returned fire. Then Cavenaugh attacked the ork with his blade. No sooner has he lunged after the ork, he laid on the ground clipped in two by the power klaw of the ork. Yet the distraction allowed Ionza to get closer. The ork missed at her both with the bolter and also with the klaw as she with cat-like grace managed to get up-close and personal.

Knowing her bolter likely would do zero damage against the hulking creature she left it unceremoniously in the mud getting a monofilament knife from her right jacket-sleeve. while she dodged the savage attack of the increasingly enraged ork as she ducked down and cut the ork's foot off with her powered sword. The creature hit the ground with a snarl, then it laid a savage hit on Ionza sending her reeling into a bush.

It was too late for the ork, Stremm rushed in and smashed the face of the ork with his powered fist before picking up the wounded commissar and running away with him while the Catachans gave the old really muscular man covering fire forcing the orks into cover. Then the line of the orks lit up as fire from over a dozen Leman Russ Demolishers rained down over the hapless orks blasting many to smithereens.

Stremm even had to dodge a falling Freudakian pine as he saw the dark contures of a Chimera with twin-linked bolters just driving one down. The grey-green jungle-pattern camouflaged vehicle stopped right in front of Stremm and from the back out first came a giant of a man in all black powered armor. The massive fists were sparkling with energy, clearly powered fists, a Rosarius was crested around the neck of the man and a little behind the fists were two stormbolters. Right behind two Inquisitorial Storm Troopers moved quickly with a stretcher towards the two.

Carrus was rapidly laid down on the stretcher. The Inquisitor removed his helmet, showing it a face of a rather young man, in his 30's, but with already almost completely grey hair, and a nasty chainsword-scar running parallel with his left eyes which was a bionic one of exquisite design.

"Who are you?" Stremm was tall enough to look the man straight into his eyes. He just smirked. "Your salvation obviously." The voice was soft and enthralling in sharp contrast with Stremm's voice which was about as pleasant to listen to as getting a fist to your ears. "Inquisitor Kelkaris here *Stremm made a stiff salute at the spot* might I inquire who you are soldier?" Stremm swallowed heavily. "Colonel James Stremm of the 184th Devil Dogs here." The Inquisitor waved dismissively making Stremm break the salute.

"What are you doing here?" Kelkaris bored his eyes into the eyes of Stremm. "You frakked up the plan by being here." He looked far more aggressive now. "We are here because we were assigned to by Munitorum Inquisitor." Stremm sweated under the gaze of the Inquisitor as Ionza came up to them, exchanging a nod with the Inquisitor making Stremm realize she was indeed in the retinue of the one now addressing him. "What about the retreating orks Inquisitor, shall we pursue?" She looked worried up at him. "Negative, Commissar Carrus told me he has boobytrapped the area over the vox Commissar Ionza. So we will just fall back to the Schola Freudakia and interview the Carachans while the Manticores and Basilisks will flatten the area." Noticing Stremm tensing up where he stood he then said. "Commissar place colonel Stremm and the Catachan regiment under Inquisitorial arrest." He turned to go as Ionza aimed her bolt pistol at Stremm who immediately surrendered, halfway on the way he stopped, turned back to Ionza. "I do it myself, go see to you fiance commissar." She saluted and ran off to get into the Chimera that razed off through the jungle at breakneck speed being the last person into it.

He glanced right at the despairing eyes of Stremm, who saw the Storm Troopers having surrounded the Catachans disarming them, treating them as prisoners not allies. Stremm was quickly disarmed, then he was handcuffed and forced to lie face-down by the Storm-Troopers not taking any chances. That was not pleasant as the ground shock from the shock of artillery-bombardement while he heard the Inquisitor vox in instructions for Valkyries to evacuate them in the background.

After less than half an hour the Valkyries came landing in a hastily prepared LZ by the flamers of the Freudakians. Stremm and his other guys noticed that the privates at least were young, under 20 at least. Yet they had competence as they without a hitch had disarmed a Catachan squad, and managed to keep it civil with the Catachans as no-one had butt-ended anyone and no savage kicks to the head of prisoners were dished out. They were merely goaded onto the waiting Valkyries and tied up there with the guards beside them.

"Seems you frakked up again James." The voice was well-known to Stremm despite it being nearly 80 years since he last heard it. Immediately he turned his head gazing into the eyes of Latiffa McLandi. A rather tall and bulky woman with an olive perplexion. He looked in shock at her. "Hey stop looking at me like that James." She then giggled. "Don't you remember the good times we had?" The scarred face of the Catachan woman opened up in a wide grin.

"You are supposed to be dead, not teaching your skills as a sniper to kids." Stremm merely growled back at his jailor. Sitting across from him was Kelkaris, he leaned forward with a sadistic grin on his face, the cut seemed to make it into a half-moon, his voice was needlessly sweet. "Interesting a connection, tell me now captain McLandi, what was it?"

"Married for 24 years Inquisitor." She tersely reported back to him. Eyes tried to avoid the prying eyes of Kelkaris that sat feeling their thoughts bubbling up. Memories, mostly happy to his surprise, but also some sad. "Hm you had a son." He saw both Catachans get tense. "Inquisitor, if you don't mind, I rather not want to discuss our son." Stremm said that feeling far less courageous than he sounded.

The Valkyrie was meanwhile streaking theough the skies towards the Schola Freudakia in the rain-forest. The Catachans saw it, it looked more like a black prison than a place of learning with trenches and artillery-positions, tall walls, anti-aircraft-systems adjorned it. It was a sprawling military metropolis of pure blackness, ugly as hell, their hearts sunk as they watched it come closer. First beginning like a black dot in the horizon.

[beaviz81]

The bewildered Catachans walked out from the Landing Zone of the Schola Progenium. Monstrous Skitarii patrolled the streets, which was strict and regimented. They stood there guarding at the corners tirelessly on their threads, with advanced weaponry all visible in the gory detail. Their humanity were at best just a faint memory. Most likely the hulking hybrids of man and machine didn't remember anything, and they were a horrific reminder of the prize of failure at this Schola Progenium, nevermind that of being in business with the Adeptus Mechanicus. An organization inhumane extraordinaire, yet so important for the survival of the Imperium of Mankind. The shocked Catachans realized one by one the fact that the Skitarii was infact disgraced students of the Schola Progenium there they rolled around as heavy weapon-platforms and whatnot. Still that was far from the most grotesque figures this Schola had, but that the Catachans didn't know.

That they soon saw that on the inside. There Skitarii geared up for close-combat were standing guard. Monofilament knives and power swords had replaced the arms of all most had many more of that placed at them, they all packed at least one boltgun, though many had jutting out of their chests meltaguns. The Catachans looked upon them in horror as they were locked into their cells with the Skitarii silently standing vigil outside their cells.

The cells were clean, though extremely solid, as they had been Ogryn-tested (they had thrown in an Ogryn there and made it gone berserk in each cell with the interior tackling it, i.e. no sinks or toilets being used at weapons). The white beds were uncomfortable and hard as they where just small mattresses on brinks. One prisoner per cell was the law of this black complex with this huge prison attached to it.

Still Stremm was taken straight to interrogation. He was escorted by two Storm Troopers in jungle camouflage garb and heavy cerpace armour. Behind them trailed the Inquisitor and his ex-wife. One of the Skitarii a thing with a meltagun jutting out of the chest and two large powered fists had a key coming out where the stomach used to opened the door and to the dull surprise of Stremm managed to pull open the two ton adementum door without a strain. Still just looking at it make the hair stand on his back due to the unnatural look of the former woman standing there clad in metal, red eyes scanning everything.

The interrogation-room was sparsely decorated with just some chairs and a metal-table that showed it had been used for torture more than once. Stremm got seated with his back to the wall, the Inquisitor and McLandi sat down on the two other uncomfortable chairs. Kelkaris licked his small lips as he flicked a small flick at his side of the table. "Inquisitor Kelkaris of Ordo Xenos starting a First Action with...." "With Captain Latiffa McLandi Drill-Abbess of the Schola Fruedakia." He then turned his gaze of Stremm. "Now you shall speak you rank and service-number as well as all other relevant facts colonel." Stremm noted there were oddly no disdain in the voice of Kelkaris, not even in the voice of McLandi had he detected anything but neutrality.

"Colonel James Stremm, service number 107-997-117-811 of the Catachan 184th Devil Dogs." He then glanced over at the Inquisitor. "Shall I state my military-history as well?" A mere nod came from the Inquisitor. "Have been colonel for this regiment for 23 years, was a major for five before that, lieutenant colonel for two years, captain for four, lieutenant for eight before that, sergeant of differencing seniority for 18 years before that, and before that private for four years." He now noted the techno-scribe in the room, it was once a woman, now it was rooted in it's place just taking notes the face was metallic and hideous. Another serrvitor-thing this place already had too many of.

"Who sent you and your regiment to Freudakia colonel Stremm?" The Inquisitor's eyes peered into the depth of the soul of Stremm, voice all calm. "The order was signed by Adept Maximilian of the Departmento Munitorum Inquisitor." He sighed. "Is that thing logged on to the warweb Inquisitor?" He saw the eye of the Inquisitor get narrow. With a contained rage he said. "That thing is a scribe-servitor and of great service to the Inquisition and the Adeptus Mechanicus colonel." "Apologies Inquisitor." Humbly Stremm looked into the eyes of Kelkaris as he saw a slight smile at the face of McLandi.

She got up. "Permission to get the files on colonel Stremm Inquisitor.?" Only a small nod was his answer. She plotted in the requests on the grotesque wall-servitor who clicked and clacked as it worked through the files of Depertemento Munitorum, eventually it printed out the files detailing the Catachan regiment. She handed them to the Inquisitor who removed his powered fist. He glanced on the powered fist of Stremm it was attached to the elbow, it was a crude metallic construct with a hose with electric nerves which the Tech-Priests had disabled.

"What I mean by you frakking up colonel is that you hindered the capture of living orks with your interference." McLandi explaied as she got seated. Kelkaris just nodded as he read through the files she had given him. The interrogation wore on, it lead nowhere as Stremm divulged his limited knowledge and shared the information freely.

Eventually Kelkaris decided the interview was done. "Inquisitor Kelkaris of Ordo Xenos is now concluding the the First Action of colonel James Stremm og the Catachan 184th the Devil Dogs, captain Latiffa McLandi you are to escort the prisoner to his cell." He got up knowing full and well the drama between the former lovers. He anyway knew he likely would call the Catachans into his Inquisitorial Storm Troopers, but first he was to get off his suit of powered armour. He was feeling tired of it, and worse he hated being spoon-fed in the field since he had poor control of the powered fists. Whistling a merry tune as he hurried towards the armory looking forward for the Tech-Priest to remove this suit of armour from him.