Number of the ED – The Beast and the Saviour

(Author’s Note: This story was originally meant to be only two parts, but the HTML file size made it clear that I had to split it down. Therefore, there is no reference to the Book of Revelations in the beginning of Part 3)

<<<Imperial HQ; Acheron Hive, 2 months later>>>

Sebastian slowly opened his right eye. He quickly regretted the move, as his eyes were stung by a burning white light. As nothing seemed to happen, he slowly raised his arms and rubbed his temples. It took him a good five minutes to realize that he was rubbing himself with both hands. Sebastian tried to open his eyes again. This time it went well. He was still too dazed to understand where he was, but he did understand that his right arm was in one piece.

"Then it was just a dream then..." he mumbled silently to himself. As he said that, his left hand touched something metallic. He let it travel there for a while until he understood it was the plug for the cord to his bionic eye. Several things came into realization now for Seb. Firstly, that he hadn't been dreaming, and for that fact, he nearly sighed in relief. Secondly, he was lying in a hospital bunk. He glanced to his left and saw the thin tubes from the infusion running down and into his arm. He also saw the numerous scars from stitched wounds. Sebastian slowly remembered what had happened before he passed out. And still, his right arm was there. It wasn't off at the elbow...

Sebastian dared a look at it. He saw the hand, it looked like his own, and a part of the forearm. But halfway down the forearm, the skin-tissue ended and the metallic skeleton of a bionic implant was revealed. Sebastian also saw the connection joint into his elbow stump, his horrid scarred stump of an arm.

He screamed.

McKenzie, who'd been snoozing on a chair in a corner, woke with a start. So did Cerberus, who was lying at his feet. The two metres thirty tall Marine got over to Sebastian and tried to calm him down. It wasn't easy. The old man was hyperventilating because of his sudden shock.

"Sebastian, calm down," McKenzie urged. "It's over. The nightmare is over... The Orks and Berzerkers are being destroyed as we speak."

Sebastian looked at McKenzie with his tired eyes. To see the tall Marine was relieving. McKenzie had a close bond with Sebastian, as he'd had with grandfather. Sebastian felt something big and warm poke him on his left arm. To see Cerberus's wet nose and fuzzy head made Seb feel happier. At least he hadn't lost another one of his friends. As if McKenzie had been reading his thoughts, he said; "I'm sorry about Ishmael."

"It wasn't your fault..." Sebastian said. He couldn't believe how feeble and weak his voice sounded. "Besides, he gave his life in the Emperor's duty, as any commissar should..."

McKenzie still looked a bit troubled though. Sebastian wasn't sure if it was because of the war or something else. The old man couldn't really remember if he'd ever seen McKenzie this troubled. His eyes were lined, and if McKenzie been an ordinary human, Sebastian could have sworn the big Marine now felt as old as he actually were. Something was troubling him, Sebastian was sure of it now. He'd seen that look once before in his life, and Seb knew exactly what it meant.

"McKenzie what is it?" Sebastian said and tried to sit up. The new arm was a bit irritating, as Sebastian had grown used to having none. McKenzie sat down on the hospital bunk and Cerberus jumped up in it as well. The big dog nimbly walked over so that he could lie down on Sebastian, without harming the old man.

"I am not really allowed to tell you Sebastian, but the last 300 years are beginning to make sense to me." McKenzie replied in a whispering tone.

"What do you mean?" Sebastian asked. Cerberus had put his head so that it rested on Seb's chest.

"It's classified Sebastian." McKenzie said with a suddenly stern voice. "Not even the Inquisition should know what I know. Only Ed and Eddie know, and that's because I've known them for over 500 years." The Marine gave Sebastian a hard look. Sebastian understood he should ask any more in this matter, he wouldn't get any responses anyway. Instead, a new question formed in his head.

"What is this bionic arm for?" he asked, and McKenzie's ease over this was obvious.

"A prototype of a new arm I'm working on. It has everything a natural arm has, including neural cords and skin, though the skin isn't really fully-grown on your implant."

"Spare me the technical crap, Edward." Sebastian spat. "I just want to know why, I've already got a new limb-replacement."

"You mean the battle-claw? It's on repair, and having a normal hand and arm doesn't hurt."

"Maybe not." Sebastian said and absently scratched Cerberus with his new right hand. Cerberus gave him a big wet dogs-kiss as a thank-you.

There was a long pause of silence. McKenzie wasn't sure if he was to ask Sebastian the questions he had on his mind. The old commissar seemed so happy of being rejoined with his pet. Sebastian broke the long silence though.

"I'm not going to retire, if you think so." Sebastian said and looked on McKenzie with a look full of the iron will of his family.

"Strange," McKenzie replied and crossed his arms over his chest. "I heard Ed say you were going to retire before the war."

"That was before the war, yes. This is now."

"You should at least rest until your wounds have healed properly, before that, I recommend you stay here in Acheron." McKenzie smiled. He seemed much more familiar with out his armour. Sebastian preferred him that way.

Something seemed to search it's way to Sebastian from the depth of his memory. Something suppressed by pain, fatigue and unconsciousness.

"The Artis family! Are they okay?" Seb asked with a sudden look of fear in his face.

"Okay as can be. They had a somewhat bumpy ride, but when they got to Acheron, Lord Artis informed us directly of the situation in Hades."

McKenzie was quiet for a minute or two until he talked again. He'd decided something, which was obvious.

"Sebastian, I want to hear, in detail, why a distress signal wasn't sent out earlier. I received one personally from Astropath Zebulon, but by then Prime had already fallen, right?"

Sebastian knew what McKenzie was referring to. Sebastian told him the whole story.

"I'll tell you McKenzie, I wasn't informed until Volcanus and Death Mire had fallen. By then it was too late. And von Strab's ignorance and arrogance didn't make it easier."

"You mean Herman von Strab, the planetary Overlord? He, to whom your the tactical advisor?" McKenzie said, sounding not too surprised.

"Was tactical advisor." Sebastian corrected him. "I got 'fired'."

"He didn't listen to you, did he?" McKenzie said understandingly.

"No, just like his father Luthor ten years ago and my grand-father nearly sixty years ago." Sebastian sighed heavily.

"Do you think it would have made any difference if Luthor and Rolf had listened to you, Sebbie?" McKenzie said and tilted his head in a strange way. It looked like he was listening to something.

"No." Sebastian replied quietly. "Death would have taken them sooner or later anyhow."

"Precisely!" McKenzie exclaimed and looked triumphant. "But, von Strab is not dead!"

"Frekk it! I had hoped that ass-hole had died!" Sebastian shouted so suddenly Cerberus started and gave away a weak yelp. He wasn't used in seeing his master like this.

"He's theoretically dead, Sebbie." McKenzie said, still with a smile on his lips. Upon seeing Sebastian's questioning look, he answered. "He escaped in a Land Speeder, but it was found two days later in the middle of the Equatorial jungle. We're meeting hard resistance from Ork in that sector. Prime is as good as taken back. It's only here on Secondus that the Berzerkers are still at large. We have our suspicions that Kharn is still on this planet, because of the fighting will of the Berzerkers."

"But theoretically doesn't exist in my world, McKenzie. Either you are dead, or not." Sebastian said and looked sourly on the Marine. Why did he twist words so much?

"Sebastian, he wouldn't survive too long out with all the wild animals, and the Orks." McKenzie said and patted Sebastian's shoulder. "Besides, he's an Armageddon Noble. He doesn't know too much about surviving in the wild. Now, if he'd been well trained like a Marine, or a commissar, he'd have a sporting chance."

"Speaking of commissars..." Sebastian mumbled. "Who's taking charge of the commissarial duties now? I was most high-ranking commissar here, being one in the Imperium's service, not Armageddon's."

"Commissar-general Richter is commanding most things, though Holt from the Armageddon Commissariat has almost got more control over it all." McKenzie said and scratched his chin in thought. "Never seen a man with such a thin face. Could almost think he'd been in a labour camp for years."

Sebastian barely took notice of McKenzie's last comment, as his brain was concentrating on putting two and two and three together. Sebastian and Ishmael had always been friends, though Ishmael had been more social. Sebastian had as compensation a gift for detective work, which he was unmatched in. No other commissar could even begin thinking in the way Sebastian usually thought when trying to find a pattern in a chaos of clues and hints. Right now he was putting the finishing touches to a mystery ten years old. McKenzie noticed this.

"What is it Seb?"

"A lot of things is and isn't..." Sebastian mumbled silently. "When I first met Holt, he was paunchy, a sign of really good living. Every time I've met him these ten years since he became chief commissar of Armageddon, we've eaten dinner together and discussed things. Each and every time he's ordered food that should keep him on his weight. Answer me this McKenzie, why hasn't he grown fat on it? He's a got a still job, and should because of such living, but instead he's grown thinner and thinner."

"A curse?" McKenzie suggested. Sebastian gave him a look that said he should stop listening to Charleston's talk of monster movies.

"Don't think so. Anyway, ten years ago, I took the mission on solving the mysterious deaths of Luthor von Strab and his sons. It became more and more apparent as research progressed that Herman was behind it, but when I handed it over to Holt, who said it was a matter of the Armageddon Commissariat, he deemed Herman von Strab unguilty and freed the man from any suspicions. Recently, I heard Holt talk about that the matters with Herman's brothers and father wasn't closed. Why pull that up? The case was closed, Holt made sure it was so himself. And why has von Strab begun listening so much to Holt's advise lately?"

"I'm not the one to judge it Seb, but Holt could be bribed. He's no more than human." McKenzie said and got up. He straightened his shirt a bit.

"Weird, Artis said the same when I discussed it with him. But a commissar shouldn't take bribes; it is against all his ideals to accept money from someone else!"

"Sebastian, not all people are as honest and fair as you are. You'll have to learn that some day." McKenzie said and looked at Sebastian with a tired look.

"But he's a commissar!" Sebastian protested.

"But he's not more than human, Sebastian. You can't ask of perfection from him." McKenzie sighed. Rolf had been easier to convince, that was sure.

"I think I'll pay Holt a visit when I'm ready to go outside the hospital." Sebastian mumbled sourly to himself.

"Do so." McKenzie said and gave Sebastian a data-slate. "In the meantime, write down a report on what happened in Hades. That's routine for all refugees from that Hive. And get some rest."

"Yes, mom." Sebastian mumbled absently as McKenzie left. As soon as McKenzie had left though, Seb slid out of his bunk and got dressed. Cerberus seemed to understand what was happening. He pulled away one of Sebastian's jackboots and the old man reached for it. Sebastian sighed.

"Cerberus, hand it over! I don't have time for these games."

Cerberus didn't obey. As much as the dog hated it, he couldn't make his master break orders that were for his own good. He watched in silence as his master put on his tunic and removed the bionic arm. His master didn't like it, it seemed. After a bit of trouble with the loose arm and his coat, Sebastian bowed down to take the boot from Cerberus. This time, however, Cerberus let him have it. Maybe it was better for his master to do whatever he was going to break orders for. Last time it had been visiting a powerful psyker and helping people.

"That's a good boy!" Sebastian said and patted Cerberus in the side as he got his boot back. Seb put it on and looked at Cerberus's hopeful eyes.

"I'm sorry old boy, but I'll have to do this alone." Sebastian said and got up. He took something from the table by the bunk and pressed it into his bionic eye's socket. It was a tiny battery that supplied the eye with enough power to see, but it couldn't fire the laser beams. There wasn't enough power in it for that.

"Stay here Cerberus." Sebastian said and sneaked out, intent on finding Holt and getting an explanation to it all.

Slowly, very slowly, as if to slow down the pain with the movement, James Holt pulled the syringe out of his left underarm. It didn't matter if he'd pulled it out with a jerk, it still hurt somewhat and he winced at the pain. The only thing that the slow movement had helped was that the flow of blood wasn't so great. He'd learned that quickly, Holt was no fool. He put the empty syringe with the bloody cannula on his desk and picked up a plaster and put over the tiny pinch wound in his arm and pulled down the sleeve of his uniform jacket. Holt picked up the syringe again and played a bit with it as he looked around in his office. It was not really big, but not small either. Somewhere in between. His desk stood before a big view-port which overlooked the inner parts of Acheron Hive. At the moment it was full of communiqués from different regimental commissars in the PDF and the Steel Legions, but a few books where also laid on it. Amongst them were two worth notice: a fiction novel titled The Great Betrayer, halfly finished, and a huge tome, leather-bound and ancient looking, with it's title written in 24 carat gold-paint: Codex: Terra. Under it was another book, not as big, but just as ancient looking and it also with it's title written in gold: Committerea Imperius.

Holt let his eyes travel from his desk to the other parts of the room. On the walls to his left and right, bookshelf upon bookshelf was lined, only breaking for a portrait or a bust of a famous man or woman in the service of the Imperial Commissariat. There were obvious breaks in the lines of books in the shelves, holes where books should be. Most of them maybe borrowed by a comrade-in-arms. Others by some other institute. Holt studied the portraits for a while. On his right from where he was sitting, he knew he had Commissar-general Chomaki, Commissaress Hawkins (a beautiful woman, Holt thought), Commissar Timosjenko and Commissar Mischkjin, founder of the entire commissar rank. On his left Holt knew these by heart: Commissar-general Reichard, Commissar Wiedelmann and one more, one that made Holt feel a bit insecure, Commissar-general Yarrick. The last one had liberated Armageddon, but his grand-son was now a big problem for Holt. As Holt swung around in his office-chair to look out the great window, he heard the automatic doors open and close with a hiss behind him.

"Speaking of the devil," Holt said halfly to himself, halfly to Sebastian who'd just entered. He didn't care that he was still toying with the syringe, Yarrick had found out, otherwise he wouldn't be here. Holt was, as said, no fool.

"So, what brings the Saviour of Hades Hive here?" Holt said and swung round to face Sebastian. Now Sebastian finally saw what Ishmael had meant with that Holt had gone gaunt-faced. Holt had indeed lost weight; he looked hollow-eyed and hollow-cheeked. Thin, thinner than the Lord Astropath Yarrick had met in Infernus.

"You," was Sebastian's curt but true answer. "James, may I ask for an explanation to all this?" Sebastian said with a gesture. Holt knew he meant the reason to the syringe, the von Strab murders and all the rest.

"Why, most certainly I'll give it to you Sebastian!" Holt said and smiled viciously. The smile didn't reach the weary, bloodshot eyes. "I'll begin with the reason for this!" Holt held up the syringe with the blood-dripping cannula so Sebastian could see and then threw it into his wastebasket.

"I'm a morphine addict," Holt said and settled back in his chair. "I've been so for nearly ten years, with steadily increasing dosages. The reason is that this is a stressful job, and I needed something to clam my nerves with. In the beginning the dosages were so small, that it didn't tear too much on my credit-account. But as the dosages increased, so did the prize and I began running out of money for it. As you knew me way back then Sebastian, you know I was overweight. Nearly one hundred and fifty kilos was my top notation. Now, morphine has that bi-effect that you lose weight from it. A good thing, I thought back then. Now, it's barely as good. Can you guess what I weigh today, Yarrick, can you?"

Holt arose from the chair, and now Sebastian saw how thin he was. He was barely skin and bones. No wonder he looked gaunt.

"I...I...don't know James." Sebastian stammered forth. He was so shocked over how thin the man was. And still standing two meters tall.

"I weigh just as much as you do, or did back then; 65 kilos. The morphine bi-effect became a curse. Hell, I can't even have women!"

Holt breathed in and out heavily a few times and then sat down in his chair again, resting his head in his palms. He began talking again.

"You see Sebastian, at that time, something wonderful happened. Wonderful in a macabre way. The von Strab family was picked off, one by one. Anton was killed by a bomb, Otto by a hit-and-run driver and Villhelm was shot. You were put on the case as it concerned the family of an Imperial Planetary Commander. You were also a good friend of Luthor von Strab, you'd known the man a long time."

"I'd known him since I came to Armageddon as a young man, James." Sebastian interrupted.

"Right," Holt said and picked up the thread again. "You were on the case as a hungry wolf on a deer's tracks, excuse the relation there, but the Adeptus Arbites were nagging you right? They said the case was a matter of their office, but you wouldn't listen. So wouldn't Luthor I believe, when he ate that fugu-fish. That poisonous fish. The obituary said it had been fugu-poison, but we both knew it wasn't. It had been cyanide, enough to wipe out a regiment. That left Herman as lone member of the von Strab family. It also gave you six months to nail the murderer, cause we both knew it was Herman. Everything pointed towards him, right? After the six moths had passed, he'd be Armageddon's new Overlord. It was now I started to play sneaky on you, Sebastian.

"I made a deal with you that you could leave it to me, and you could take some well-earned holidays on some garden-world. We both trusted each other. Boy, that was your first mistake my friend. I might have been fat, but I wasn't stupid. I knew exactly what to do when you were gone. I made another deal, with Herman this time. I showed him our evidence, and said it would all come to daylight, if he didn't put one million credits a month on my cred-account. He had to agree. And since then I've used those evidence as a sort of blackmail, whenever von Strab has displeased me in some way. It has worked fine. Until now. von Strab is gone. So is my monthly income of money. That syringe had contained the last morphine shot ever for me." With a sigh, Holt let his head rest on the Codex: Terra. "I was a fool, and it was all because of this position I have. I was thirty-three years old, already as decorated as a veteran Guard colonel. The Imperial Commissariat made the big mistake of choosing me to command Armageddon's Commissariat. First thing I did was put on weight..." Another sigh.

There was a long, horrible silence after Holt finished his confession. Sebastian slowly melted what he'd just heard. It was now obvious. The thing he'd heard at the golf-course hadn't just been imagination then. 'Milord Governor, should I remind you that the cases on the murders of your father and brothers still aren't closed?' Sebastian remembered Holt's words clearly from that day. Now they had a meaning. So did the entire story, to Seb. That's why Holt wanted Charleston out of his hair as well. The big klutz of a Marine had the habit of finding out things he shouldn't know about, a habit that wasn't intended at all. Sebastian chose every word carefully as he took to words.

"James, I won't punish you for this," he began. This made Holt look up on him. It was not so clear, but it seemed tears of shame had began rolling down the thin man's face. "I see you're startled to hear that, Jim, but why should I? You're not more than human, are you not?" Holt nodded slowly, not knowing if this was a trick or not.

"I see you've been reading the Codex: Terra. Interesting book, isn't it?" Sebastian asked with a friendly voice.

"Yes, it is," Holt answered, struggling to avoid his voice from breaking. "Sadly though, it ends at 1265 AD, according to their time system."

"I know," Sebastian replied. "Codex: Terra, the compilation book over Project: Terra, a project in which they tried to see how humans adapted to their surroundings without the Emperor to guide them. They did quite well. Around 7000 B.C as they call it in the book, some technology was given to a certain people on Terra. I don't know why, but they gave the Imperial visitors names like Ra, Osiris, Anubis etcetera. They thought they were gods. But that civilisation died out, because of what, no one knows. But the Imperial records in the Codex say that the...Egyptians I think they were called, had slaves of a people called the Hebrews. The Hebrew were later freed and wandered north. They settled down in what the Codex calls the Holy Land. Such blasphemy, Holt, we both know what the real Holy Land is, right?"

"The land of the Emperor, the Imperial Palace." Holt said monotone.

"Good. Now, the Egyptians slowly declined in power, and were exchanged for a people called Romans. They called their leaders for Emperors, so the Imperial monitors decided to teach them the secrets of High Gothic. The called it Latin though. Odd name for High Gothic, and I've heard a few. Now, the Hebrews were once again chased after. Their religion, the Judaism, wasn't popular to the Romans, who had gods with names like Jupiter, Mars, Volcanus...now there's a funny thing." Sebastian fell silent. "The Romans, and the Greeks, had gods and places named like Hives on Armageddon. Heh."

Sebastian carried on his litany. "I mean, Hades, Tartarus, Acheron, Styx, Minos, Morpheus, Euminides, Phlegeton, Chaeron..." Another pause. "Just so odd. Anyway, the Jews believed in that a saviour would come to help them. He came, in a man named Jesus Christ. The Imperial visitors speculated in that he could have been a Paladin, like the Emperor. A future leader for mankind on Terra. But no, the Romans caught him and crucified him."

"I know that," Holt finally said after being silent a long time. "I find that certain part very sad."

"Indeed, " Sebastian agreed. "Actually, the Romans weren't the reason to that Jesus got crucified. Nope, the Jews were, cause they condemned him to his death sentence. And since then Jews have been chased and killed for that they killed the Saviour of Mankind. Many people, including the Romans ironically, created a new religion, based on the Jewish but with Jesus Christ as the Saviour who died for them, or something like that. They call it Christianity, I believe. But the Jews weren't only the ones who gave Jesus his sentence..." Sebastian moved away from Holt now and picked up a little purse of leather from a pocket. By the chime of it, Holt could tell there were coins in it.

"A man named Judas Iscariot, one of Jesus closest friends, betrayed him for thirty silver sickles. That shows how cheap he was..." Sebastian said dryly. The last sentence wasn't meant as a joke. "Judas gave away Jesus' identity with a kiss. The Romans arrested him, and you know the rest."

Sebastian opened the leather purse and poured outs its innings on Holt's desk. A bunch of silver coins chimed and clinked as they fell down on the desk. Holt stared at them. Yarrick was playing him a trick. He had to be. This wasn't true. He knew he'd be punished, but not like that!

"Here, I leave you now with your own conscience, comrade. Congratulate yourself; you almost managed to kill the Saviour of Hades Hive! Thirty Imperial Credits in one-credit silver-coins. History only repeats itself, Commissar James Judas Holt!" In Sebastian's voice, nothing was left but spite and anger, not a trace of the kind tone he'd had a few minutes ago. With that, Yarrick made all about face and marched out of the room. Holt was still sitting staring at the coins when two hours had passed since Sebastian had left. He would be sitting for another two at least. Then he stood up, gathered the coins back into their purse and put on his cap and greatcoat. After that he walked out, to buy himself a rope.

Historical note: The body of James Judas Holt was found on his office one day after that Commissar Yarrick had visited him. On a data-slate, the well-known and loved commissar confessed several sins and crimes, amongst them accepting bribes. Commissar Holt had obviously hung himself with a powerful rope, well tied to break his neck and not to strangle him. In the message he left behind him, he also left the completed report on the von Strab-family murders conducted ten years earlier. As by common belief, Herman von Strab, former planetary governor of Armageddon, was behind them all. Holt also credited Commissar Sebastian Yarrick for most of the work. There was one last reference in the message to the Codex: Terra and a short quote: "History only repeats itself, but I won't." There were also references to a book known as the Book of Revelations, a book highly connected with the reference in Codex: Terra. Amongst the verses were verse 18 chapter 13 and verse 16 chapter 16.

<<<Infernus Hive, Spire, Berzerkers cornered as well as orks, 1 week later>>>

"Ed, didn't I tell you to cover the west wings of the factory?" Sebastian asked the big Marine as he came diving down beside him with a thump. Charleston looked up with a confused look on his face. He was still wearing the darned warboss's helmet from Tempestora. "What west wing?" he asked after clearing away most of the dirt from his face. Sebastian sighed. This had seemed as such a good idea. Orks as well as Berzerkers in the same Hive, their leaders' HQ, cornering them, taking them out in one swift assault. Easy, in theory. Damned hard in reality. Sebastian cursed silently. He'd brought with him a full company of Steel Legion, leaving their Chimera transports behind cause they weren't needed in the Hive. Steel Legion, Armageddon's finest. Of that company of 400 men, maybe 200 were left. The Orks were taking a heavy toll on them. So was the Berzerkers with their terror attacks, a strategy not entirely their own, Sebastian could understand, but the twisted armour of the Raptor's gave away a horrible, spine-chilling banshee-howl when they dived, so they were quite suited for this sort of attacks. Luckily for Sebastian, Charleston had gotten with him 15 jump-pack equipped Honour Guard. Two were dead. They were 13 now.

"12," Sebastian corrected himself as a lucky shot from an Ork shoota took an Honour Guard in the eye.

"What are those?" Charleston said and pointed towards the Orks in the other end of the factory. It was incredible, but there was a factory complex this high into the spire. Sebastian couldn't believe when he first heard it from his scouts. He looked at what Ed had meant. The Orks, dressed up in chunky mega-armour, laughed raucously as the las-shots and bolter shots bounced off their armour. They weren't getting anywhere like this. Seb pulled back his head quickly and checked his storm bolter. There were five shots left in the clip. He looked at Ed again.

"Seven to the right, four to the left." Seb said simply, leaned over the edge of the wall were he was crouching. There wasn't much left of it after the Orks had fired their guns. He fired of a burst into the Orks, the armour-piercing Kraken rounds going through the armour of the beasts with ease. Seb's aim was perfect, the explosive shots bursting the skulls of the Orks like overripe fruit. He heard the scream or attempted such as the Orks fell to the ground. Seb threw a new glance around the edge, making a fast count.

"Five to the right, one to the left and they're gathering in the middle." Seb said as he took his head back and reloaded his storm bolter.

"I'm gonna ask again Seb, what are those?" Charleston said. He aimed his plasma pistol very carefully and blew of a shot against the lone Ork to the left. It missed the beast with a few decimetres. Charleston cursed.

"Ork nobles, no doubt about it." Seb said as he slammed home the clip and clicked two rounds into place with a thumbing.

"Nobles?" Charleston asked confused. "They've got nobles?"

"Ork society isn't without honour, Ed. They may be animals in your eyes, but they have a Codex of Honour, just as you do."

"What are we going to do then? We're pinned here. Berzerker Raptors behind us and Ork...Nobs before us."

"And the Orks are forming an attack." Seb added. "Ed, I want you and your soldiers to lay down a curtain of fire, cause I've got one wacky idea."

"Huh?" Charleston saw that Sebastian was looking at something up in the gloom. Only the old man's bionic eye could see it, apparently. Ed decided not to disagree and ordered the Marines and Guardsmen to pin the Orks down with fire on his mark. There were a few seconds of uneasy silence before Charleston gave the order as he saw that Seb was powering up his Bale Eye. The rattle of gunfire filled the blown-out factory and Ed barely recognised the distinctive crack from Seb's laser-shooting eye. He did, however see the fifty tonnes heavy Leman Russ battle tank fall down from the roof and squash the Orks beneath its heavy weight. There was a shocked silence the following moments.

"Move on." Sebastian ordered from Charleston's side. The Bale Eye left a tiny, smoking trail as the old man moved.

"Nice trick, but a bit messy." Charleston commented as he moved up beside the commissar.

"I saw it hanging up in the roof, couldn't resist the temptation." Sebastian said flatly. The small force passed the corpses of Orks, the men of the Steel Legion looking away from the mess. Sebastian didn't. One of the green skinned soldiers moved slightly and the old man put a bolt round its head. "They may be our enemies, but they do know what pain is, Ed." Sebastian answered to Charleston's shocked expression. "The best we can do is spare them of it."

"Oh, a well-rehearsed lie, commissar." Charleston said caustically as they moved on.

"Watch your tongue, lieutenant commander..." Sebastian said silently.

Infernus' Opera house, how many months was it since he'd lastly been here? Sebastian didn't aim the thought to much contemplation. He was in the middle of a firefight with Berzerkers. Berzerkers and Orks, he corrected himself. Seb knew his grandfather's murderer and archenemy was close, he felt it in his blood and soul. His heart was beating fast with anticipation for the coming confrontation with the Dark Lord.

"Is it only me, or are the Orks getting bigger?" Charleston shouted over the roar of gunfire. Charleston put a stab of plasma-light into the chest of a charging Berzerker, exploding the renegade's torso. Another Berzerker, standing to Charleston's shoulders, got close with the huge man. Charleston avoided the Berzerker's chain-sword swings and cut the warrior's head of with a deft swipe of his ancient power-blade. He didn't see the Berzerker attacking from behind... Sebastian didn't even shout a warning, he just aimed his bionic eye towards the Berzerker warrior's head and shot. Charleston, too engaged in combat, didn't notice when the blood-red warrior's head exploded behind him. Sebastian allowed himself a smile at Ed's complete concentration, a concentration that nearly had killed him.

Something snorted behind Sebastian's back, and he turned and looked up into the face of a 3 metres tall Ork. Charleston was right; the Orks were getting bigger. These weren't ordinary Boyz, Ork warriors. No these were the absolute elite of Ghazghkull's bodyguard. It took Sebastian half a second to raise his battle-claw and cut the head of the Ork. It was the easiest way to stop them from fighting, Sebastian knew. To cut an Ork's arm or leg off didn't stop them. Jumping over some debris and taking cover behind a largely intact pillar, Sebastian checked himself. They were getting close now. Really close. The Space Marine Honour Guard was all but down to naught; it was Charleston, Captain Mikos Sergeant Teller and two brother-warriors, left. Not much. Seb's Steel Legionnaires had fared not so well they either. Only thirty or so were left, and they were dropping fast now, their lasguns unable to penetrate the Orks' and Berzerkers' thick armour. Sebastian cursed silently. He couldn't, wouldn't fail now, he was so close! He raised his storm bolter and blew the living daylights out of an Ork, which was trying to attack some Guardsmen. As the creature fell to the ground, the soldiers began beating on it with their bayonets. The sergeant saluted Sebastian as thanks.

All of a sudden, the room went silent. There were no Orks or Berzerkers left. Charleston came up to Sebastian. He hadn't lost the stupid helmet yet, Sebastian noticed. The big marine also seemed tired. Seb guessed it was because of the losses.

"We're clear, but Eddie's gonna kill me! Eleven Honour Guard dead! Have you got any idea what he'll do with me?" Charleston complained.

"It's not my fault Ed," Sebastian replied simply. "Kharn and Ghazghkull aren't stupid. They haven't become leaders for two of the most violent 'races' known by being stupid."

"Could guess so..." Charleston's voice trailed off. "It's quiet, too darned quiet!"

"I know," Sebastian said and looked around. "It smells trap long way..."

The small force moved on. As they got into the main concert hall of the opera house, Sebastian gasped slightly at what he saw. Desecration, in its worst sense, was what he saw. The huge Eagle chandelier had been torn down. Instead, the light was coming from what looked like a chandelier, but modelled after something heretical or alien, Seb was sure.

"Chaos rune," Captain Mikos said flatly. "I've seen it everywhere. What does it mean?"

"I don't know," Charleston said and recalibrated his auspex a bit. "But I know one who can answer..."

"Battle-brother McKenzie?" Mikos asked, as if already knowing the answer.

"Bingo..." Charleston said and took a picture of the chandelier. He frowned a bit, touched the zoom-runes of his photo-auspex and got a look of disgust on his face. "That frekking thing is made of human bones... And pieces of Space Marine armour..."

"Desecration..." Sergeant Teller sighed and walked off. "These renegades holds nothing in honour, do they?"

Sebastian was about to warn Teller about going away from the crowd. He'd left his soldiers outside, to guard. Instead it had been to avoid them from seeing Chaos-madness, like this. Sebastian's warning never left his lips. He, as the other two, just stared at how Sergeant Teller suddenly jerked, as if having a spasm of some kind. Charleston was the only one to see how the man's eyes went dead. Kharn walked out of the shadows, still holding Teller's body at the end of his battle-axe. The big, gore-coloured warrior walked calmly out to meet the others. He shook Teller's body off his axe and looked the other's over. "We do hold things in honour, my friends. Martial prowess. Gach'tla!"

Seb knew those words. It was orkish and it meant roughly; "do it!". There was a bang behind them, as the huge entry door to the opera house was slammed shut. The Steel Legionnaires were trapped on the wrong side, all due to Sebastian's orders. Seb cursed, Kharn had known his protocols. Seb had, as he thought of his stupidity, seen the two other Marines of the Honour Guard. They were both ripped asunder by one mighty power-claw.

"Ghazghkull Thraka!" was Sebastian Yarrick's first thought. The second one was: "I knew this was a trap! I knew it!".

"Now, it's only us..." Kharn began but suddenly stopped. "Brother Mikos, you've done good." Kharn turned to the young Marine. "I knew I could trust you and that you'd succeed."

"It was in the Lord's will, master Kharn." Mikos replied softly. "You wanted the Imperial lackeys, I could give them to you." Charleston was shocked. Mikos, a renegade? He didn't want to believe it was true. His ears were broken! That he had trusted the man so, made him his personal adjutant and all. And the little brat turns renegade!

"You treasonous dog!" Charleston shouted. Kharn, Ghazghkull and Mikos looked at him. "I taught you everything I knew, and this is my reward?"

"Charleston, don't be upset now, I've been doing this for many years now." Kharn said softly.

"Shut the frekk up, renegade!!" Charleston said and drew his power sword. "Prepare to be redeemed, as they say in the Inquisition!"

"I'll take him master!" Mikos said, pulling out his own power sword. Kharn sighed. It was always the same story. Youngbloods, always wanting to show off before him. It cost them their lives more often than not. So was the case of Mikos. The young Marine couldn't possibly match Charleston's skill and strength. Charleston had fought for nearly half a millennia and learned a lot in those years. He was also the strongest Marine every to have lived. Mikos tried to outwit Charleston with nifty and nimble manoeuvres and sword-tricks. Charleston parried them all. After a minute, the commander got tired of the fight and cut Mikos head off in a deft sweep. The beheaded corpse fell to the ground with a thud.

"Idiot..." Charleston breathed. "May your soul rot for all eternity." Then he spat at the fallen warrior. "Your turn Kharn!"

"Don't think so," Kharn said as a smile crossed his lips. "Ghazghkull, take him out, I'll take the Yarrick!"

Seb saw how the huge Ork loomed over Charleston. More he didn't get to see, because Kharn grabbed him by his good arm and pulled him with him... up, towards the ceiling. The Dark Lord wore a jump-pack! Sebastian felt his heart race; he had no chance in bringing a so agile opponent down!

"Don't be frightened Yarrick," Kharn said softly, almost tenderly. "I'm just taking us away from the battle below, and any chance of you being saved. I want to settle this matter with you, one-on-one, man-to-man, and uninterrupted. Besides, to have you running up the stairs, that wouldn't be good for your health, would it? You're an old man after all." Kharn chuckled darkly to himself. Half a minute later, Kharn dropped Sebastian down on the roof of the opera house. The Berzerker Lord then landed himself, not far from Yarrick.

"Sebastian, I wanted to say one thing. I'm not here to kill you. My hatred towards you is abysmal indeed, but to kill you, I won't."

"Why?" Sebastian said through clenched teeth. The battle-claw that was his lower right arm was opening itself and closing itself with clicks. Sebastian was full of adrenaline and he wanted to use it.

"You might think of me as a beast, a murderer, but I'm much more than that. I want to tell you why I do this, why I'm a Berzerker. The reason? I know you'll listen."

"Never in my life!" Sebastian shouted and attacked Kharn with sheer fury and anger. Sebastian no longer fought with his honour and skill; he fought with pure hatred. Hatred and hatred alone was fuelling the Imperial Commissar...

Charleston dodged Ghazghkull's mighty power claw and the huge limb-weapon smashed into a marble pillar. In less than a second, Ghazghkull was free again, to strike at the Marine with renewed anger. Charleston knew what he had to do, facing a monster such as Ghazghkull. His estimations were that Ghazghkull had to weigh at least a tonne with that armour, and that he couldn't possibly outmatch the Ork in close combat. Instead, Ed had to use his intelligence to outwit the Ork. He knew this very well, and wasn't happy for it. Orks lived for war, that Charleston had learned from Yarrick, so Ghazghkull had to be skilled, or was he...?

Using his jump-pack to outmanoeuvre and outflank the humongous Ork, Charleston got close enough to take a stab at Ghazghkull with his power sword. A split second before Charleston hit the Ork, Ghazghkull's gun-arm was there and gave Charleston a whack at the head. Charleston dropped to the ground, stunned. He regained his senses just in time to see Ghazghkull raise his power claw to smash the head of the Marine like an overripe fruit. Charleston rolled out of the way, and the claw just took a chink out of his jump-pack armour. Getting to his feet, Charleston swung his power sword in an arc at Ghazghkull's back. The blade bit into the armour of the beast, but failed to do any damage. Ed didn't even mind to curse at this as he pulled the sword free and jumped backwards in a jump-pack powered somersault to avoid being smashed against the wall by the gun-arm.

The Ork glared at him, anger in its inhuman eyes. Charleston now saw the half-metal skull of the creature. Adamantium, he guessed. Same material used to create the Terminator suits. Virtually impossible to destroy.

"You really choose the wrong planet to frekk with, alien scum!" Charleston hissed. He felt something odd inside of him, a craving for blood to be spilt, Ghazghkull's blood, right here, right now. Charleston hadn't felt this before. He'd heard of the gene-flaw, but never thought it would affect him like it affected Poole and the others of the Assault Company. Now he knew he wasn't immune to the blood curse.

"Yooze da wun 'ose wrong, 'Umie!" Ghazghkull growled. "Dis da end uv da wurld fer 'Umies. All 'Umies die, it'z a WAAAGH!"

Charleston barely saw the dim, blue light that formed around Ghazghkull's body, but it didn't matter. This alien was as good as dead. Charleston was a Space Marine of the Death Angels Legion, the Emperor's finest and would not die at the hands of a green beast like Ghazghkull.

"WAAAGH! on yourself!" Charleston roared back at Ghazghkull. In a flash, Charleston had pulled out his plasma pistol. Firing in blind rage as he was, the shots weren't the usual sloppy ones that Charleston usually fired. The first shot melted the barrel of Ghazghkull's huge, Orky gun, the second blasted apart the power claw and the third blew away the big, metal "jaw" that served as protection for Ghazghkull's lower face-half. Making a diving charge at the beast, jump-pack blazing and power sword alight, Charleston slammed into the huge Ork with a force that should've knocked a Leman Russ battle tank off it's tracks. Ghazghkull didn't even move an inch at the blow. Jumping backwards to avoid Ghazghkull's swinging stump, Charleston took a stab at the Ork's flank as it revealed itself. Later, Charleston could've sworn on that the sword bit through the armour, but it glanced off the skin of Ghazghkull. Before Charleston could figure out why, Ghazghkull had made his choice and Ed had to jump out of the way. The upper part of the power claw was still intact, and the two claw-blades still powered by the reactor at Ghazghkull's back. This gave Charleston an idea. Before he barely had landed, Charleston was up in the air again and was flying towards the power cable that connected the power claw with the reactor. His sword easily cut off the cable and Ed took some delight in hearing the frazzling sound from the claw when it went dead. Ghazghkull's left arm was now useless. Charleston sent his prayer to the Emperor that the Ork wasn't strong enough to lift the claw without the aid of servos.

Charleston was now at the front of the Orkoid Warlord again. The Ork glared at him. It growled something unintelligible, alien gibberish it seemed to Charleston. Charleston didn't respond. Not with words. Instead, charging the huge beast head first, Charleston had a blood-curdling roar on his lips. If he had looked up, he would have seen what would have been fear in Ghazghkull's eyes, but Orks aren't human, thus they can't have human feelings.

As Charleston reached the beast, he flung his head up to meet with the Ork's massive jaw. Ceramite steel met tough bone and a sickening crack was heard as Ghazghkull's neck snapped and gave away. His jaw had held, but the neck supporting it, hadn't. There also was a more fabricated crack, from when Charleston's looted helmet burst open in the scalp section, but it was almost lost to the loud crack from Ghazghkull's neck. Charleston jumped nimbly out of the way as the one and a half tonne heavy Ork fell to the ground with a resounding thud. Charleston stood panting a long while to regain his breath. He didn't want to admit it, but two times, the Ork had been close to smashing his head to pulp. Almost too close in his taste. He dared throw a glance at the fallen greenskin. That had been the Ork that Ishmael had talked about, the Dreadnought sized one. The Beast of the Gideon system.

"I'd rather wanna call him the Beast of Armageddon..." Charleston thought to himself. He threw a look at the entry doors. Behind them, the Steel Legionnaires were caught. Ed raised his plasma pistol and pulled the trigger. His shot blew a big hole in the door, big enough for a man to poke his head through it. He then looked up. How was Seb doing? Charleston decided for a horrible answer and flew upwards, despite his fatigue; prepared to send Kharn to the fallen god he worshipped...

While Charleston had battled Ghazghkull, Seb had tried to decapitate Kharn at least ten times with his claw, all tries result less. Seb fought with pure hatred, forgetting all he'd learned about honour and righteousness. In a way, he was fighting more evilly than the Dark Lord before him. He wanted revenge, he wanted blood, he wanted Kharn's neck between his claw-blades. Kharn knew all this very well, and Sebastian was playing him straight into his hands.

"I'm telling you once again, Yarrick, I won't fight you." Kharn said as he ducked away from the claw again. Sebastian's reply was a snarl. He'd lost his cap fifteen minutes ago, and his senses twenty minutes ago. He wanted to have his revenge; to repay the blood of his family spilt more than half a century before. Kharn had killed an Imperial Hero; the punishment of such was death. These were thoughts that appeared in Sebastian's raging mind as he fought. They weren't his thoughts; he didn't know were they'd come from, but he welcomed them, embraced them. The fuelled his old body with even more adrenaline. He would have Kharn's head. He knew he would. He jumped at the red-armoured Marine, but Kharn dodged the clumsy attack. But what Kharn hadn't counted on was the bionic eye. All of a sudden, the metallic sense flashed, and Kharn was saved from a killing shot by his Marine reflexes. But the laser beam hit something else; the lock that held Kharn's horned helmet in place. The lock was burned away, but Kharn did not notice this. Instead, he turned to face Yarrick once again.

"What I've told you is true. I didn't become a Berzerker because I'm 'evil', such a horrible word. I did it cause I've seen what will happen with the Marines when the Imperium acquires universal peace. We'll be disbanded, forever! I do this to maintain my own race, understand me? Wouldn't you do the same in my boots?"

"You're a traitor and a renegade, Kharn!" Sebastian snarled back. "In the Imperium, we have no room for the ones like you! You are trying to brainwash me, to believe in your insane ramblings! I will never give up my belief in the Emperor! Hear me? Never!"

"So be it... But you are already giving over to Chaos! Your grandfather would never have fought with hatred, like you! No! He fought with honour, just like I do! But you, Sebastian Yarrick, you are weak, cause you let your feelings guide you! All the time! Don't you think I've watched your progress? Don't you think I knew how you would act? And that Herman von Strab was the Imperial Commander of this site, made it so much easier to make you flaws visible! You grandfather, may he rest long, never showed his flaws as openly as you! He was a much more complicated opponent, as he never let his feelings guide his actions! But you and that big oaf Charleston, you've played me into my hands all along!"

"You are losing, Armageddon for you is a lost cause Kharn." Sebastian panted forth. In his mind, the voice was playing once again with his feelings. What was happening with him?

"Am I?" Kharn said, a slight tone of amusement in his voice. "This might not be the One, y'know!"

Sebastian launched himself at Kharn again, the voice in his mind edging him forward, to engage, to destroy, to spill blood.

Yarrick's battle claw got grip around one of Kharn's decorative hair-plumes, and the helmet came off and fell to the ground with a clatter. Kharn stared at Yarrick, and Yarrick stared back. The old man had expected a face distorted by hundreds of year's exposure to Chaos. This was the far opposite. Kharn's skin was pale, his eyes piercing black and his hair was red and long, shoulder length and unruly because of the lack of care. On his left cheek a black skull-rune of Khorne was tattooed. The skeletal structure of his face looked a bit like McKenzie's; same powerful jaw and high cheekbones.

"Bad move, Yarrick!" Kharn hissed. "Prepare to feel the wrath of the man that killed your grandfather!!"

Now firstly, Sebastian realized his mistake. He now knew what had been whispering in his mind; Deamon! The word came to him like a shock. He'd listened to a deamon, and thus used up his power. All he could do know was pray that he could evade the huge Marine. He couldn't...

Kharn threw himself at the impudent commissar. No one in two hundred years had dared pull his helmet off and show his features to the world. Kharn had removed it when he was alone, not otherwise. He smiled savagely as his axe bit deeply into Yarrick's battle claw. An electric shock rippled through Sebastian's old body as the claw was short-circuited. Kharn pulled out the axe and gave the claw two, three more beats with his mighty axe. The old commissar sagged down to his knees, overcome by fatigue. This left Kharn with time to pick up his helmet, put it on and walk back to the fallen commissar. He bent down, looked curiously at the cord running from Sebastian's left temple and the pulled it out with a powerful jerk. This sent a new jolt of electric energy through Sebastian's body. But he was too tired to scream. The adrenaline had left his body and his body right now felt like a dried up husk.

Kharn grabbed Sebastian firmly around the neck and hoisted the old man up into the air. Sebastian was held in a choke, he could feel Kharn's fingers close tighter around his frail, old neck.

"I said earlier I wouldn't kill you Yarrick. Well, I've just had a change of mind!" Kharn hissed. His left arm was unarmoured, and it was with that he held Sebastian, but the old man couldn't hurt him now. He moved the old man closer to the edge of the roof, and over it. Sebastian was now dangling with his feet three hundred metres above the ground, or the level closest to him.

"Make one move Kharn and I'll blow your frekking head off!" Charleston said as he aimed his plasma pistol at the renegade's head.

"Oh, Charleston, put the pea-shooter away, I've already predicted this." Kharn said, a slight tone of boredom in his voice. "I'll give you an ultimatum, as you're in no condition to bargain: Let me go and I'll spare Yarrick's neck here. Or you could follow and fight me, but the commissar would end up as a greasy stain on the lower level. 'S your choice!"

Before Charleston could answer, Kharn dropped Sebastian and that old man fell down. Shouting a colourful and evocative curse in the genre of his Grand Commander, Charleston dived after Sebastian with jump-pack at full blast. He knew Kharn would be gone when he came back up, but he had no choice!

After four seconds of free fall, Charleston caught the old man and sped upwards. Of what he could tell, Sebastian had taken a bit of a beating. As Charleston landed, he looked around. Kharn was gone without a trace, as usual.

"Damn you Kharn!" Charleston thought darkly to himself. "You've cost me a friend, an aide and nearly my life! One day, you'll have to pay back, and that with high interest rate."

The big Marine looked at the small, aged commissar cradled in his arms, mercifully embraced by the arms of unconsciousness. Now he realized his own fatigue. Picking up Sebastian's peaked cap and putting it on the man's head, Charleston walked down to the entrance hall of the opera house, or what was left of it. The remaining Steel Legion would wait for him down there, he knew.

As he got down to the entry hall, he noticed Ghagzhkull's body gone. Charleston cursed once again. He thought he'd killed the Ork. He'd ask Seb why this was with Orks, but that was later. All the Lieutenant Commander Edmund Charleston now needed was sleep, well deserved sleep. He would report the mission as successful, but even if it was victory he didn't like it. This would be a victory indeed, but a hollow one...