The Beginning of the ED

 

 "So glorious we'll fly

  Like the Eagle in the sky

  And I know it's gonna be

  Victory!"

   -- The bridge of Gamma Ray's Solid 

 

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 Ichar, first and grandest of all Hive planets and once home to the mighty Space Marine Legion carrying the name Angelicus Mortis, or Death's Angels, seemed calm for being what it was. The reason was simple; there were nearly no humans on it. The Fortress Monastery of the Death Angels had been its reason for existence. Ichar was, along with Callidus and Secondus, the only habitable planets in the Secondus system, Secondus being a huge moon to a gas-planet. Callidus was the one closest to the sun of it; the star Betelgeuse. Due to the numerous interstellar Warp-passages surrounding Betelgeuse, it appears to our scientists that Betelgeuse is only 500 light years away from us, when it's actually closer to 1,000 light years away. The Warp-passages also causes the colour to dull and make Betelgeuse seem like a swollen gas-giant. Out Sun looks the same to the Imperial citizens like Betelgeuse to us. For you non-astronomy fans: Betelgeuse lies in the lower part of Orion; get a stellar chart. Next came Ichar. Ichar was, as mentioned, a Hive world, but, unlike Armageddon, its reason for existence is almost solely the Space Marine Legion stationed there. Next in rank come the huge amounts of factories built by the Cult Mechanicus. This makes the Death Angels one of the most mechanised of all Space Marine Legions. But the Machine Shops also supply the nearby Callidussian Imperial Guard regiments with armour and weapons.

 The Fortress Monastery of the Death Angels, or the Adeptus Astartes Legio Angelicus Mortes, to give it its full name, was situated at the north pole more or less of the planet. Surrounded by chilly oceans, it is impossible to make one's way to the Monastery by other means than flight. The Monastery is a masterpiece of the Gothic architecture, having achieved what the Gothic architects wanted to achieve with Notre Dame but failed. The main reason that the Imperials made it and not the medieval French is that the Imperials had access to things such as rockrete and huge building machines. But despite this, the Monastery locks like it's been carved from the rock of the mountainous island it rests upon. There are no shores; kilometre high walls of rock make it impossible to reach it from the sea, though there are numerous caves underneath the mountain.

 In a way, the Monastery looks a bit like a Hive, but much smaller. Still, it housed ten full companies of the Emperor's finest, which are a few thousand warriors in the Imperial service. Rarely, more than a few companies were out on duty at the same time. At least once, nowadays there are barely any Space Marines left, and most have resorted to the Dark and Corruptive Forces. The Monastery had training grounds, rifle ranges, an armoury, a library, an Apothecarion and landing fields, and it was on one of these landing fields that we find our motley collection of heroes:

 

 "It's no use," Charleston said with an indication towards the Nighthawk. "That one ain't going to fly any farther without any more fuel."

 "Just great," Eddy sighed and sat down on a moulded old crate. "Now what do we do?"

 "Guys," McKenzie calmed them down, "this is the Death Angel Monastery, and there will undoubtedly be fuel around here. This is a landing port for the Emperor's sake!"

 "What do you mean 'Monastery'?" Ed asked confused.

 "This is headquarters and home to the Death Angels. We lived here, trained here, slept here. And the key of the last sentence is that it's all in past tense... " McGranth said with an unhappy look upon his face.

 McKenzie sighed as he looked at his friend. He knew McGranth felt bad and he knew why: Once, McGranth had commanded one of the most lethal and most feared of the Imperium's forces; a full Legion of Space Marines. He didn't want to accept the fact that most Space Marines now were gone. A Space Marine is always male, always born in a certain family and always leads a life of strict celibacy. No kids. That's what kept the families going; as the one who became Space Marine trod down his path, the others of it could live happily knowing their relative were conducting his duty to the Emperor, and thus their names would also be listed. McKenzie didn't understand it so well, as he weren't from a true Space Marine family. He was a mutant, just like Rolf Yarrick was a half-breed. The Inquisition had spared them from absolution on different bases; McKenzie due to that he was Space Marine and Yarrick because of his faith and zeal.

 McGranth was confounded over the fact that he was now in charge of his two friends and colleagues, three Outlaws, one young man sharing body with the soul of his blood-brother: Commissar General Rolf Yarrick and a bunch of novices. He didn't like it at all. Besides, he wasn't truly sure that he outranked the Commissar General. McGranth sighed.

 "Come, let's get inside. No use standing here in the cold." McGranth said and led the way. His armour held him warm, but he wasn't sure for the kids. That Nazz girl seemed a little blue in the shade of her lips. McGranth didn't blame her. It was a lousy spot for a Monastery, when one thought about it. Why couldn't it be situated at the equator, on an island there? Nope, it had to be the North Pole... Sigh.

 McGranth led them through the gates that led into the huge Monastery. When they got inside, the cul-de-sac kids, including the Eds (bar Rolf) gaped at the scene striking them. They were walking on what looked like a road, much like the rail-lined steel gantries of Hades Hive, but with the major difference these were made out of solid rockrete. The gantry was at least five or six metres wide, with stairways placed a little here and there, leading to a lower or higher level. There were doors leading to other rooms or halls, each door intricately carved to either represent an Imperial Saint, the double-headed Eagle of the Emperor or the very Death Angel Legion mark. In the middle there was a gaping hole, an abyss several hundred metres deep. Kevin walked close to the edge, grabbed hold of the railing and looked down. He quickly pulled back his head, vertigo gripping his brain. He joined the others. McGranth led them down many a flight of stairs. Kevin had no idea of how many hours passed as he walked down with the others. He checked his wristwatch. What good did it do when he had no idea what local time it was and when they'd arrived? He took a hefty guess at two hours. He looked up again. The Kankers, Nazz, the Eds, Johnny and himself included, were all looking awe-struck a little now and then at their surroundings. The huge pillars and cataracts that held the place up seemed carved from the stone itself. The many gargoyles and thin-faced Saints looking down on them. Kevin read the name of one as he passed a statue:

 "Saint Renaro Icharius," it read in Low Gothic, "Martyred at the claws of a Bloodthirster deamon, first Grand Commander of the Blood Angels Space Marine Legion." Blood Angel? Hadn't McKenzie said that they were members of the Death Angels? Then, what was with the Blood Angel Grand Commander? Icharius had been holding a mighty broadsword in his perfectly sculpted hands, angel's wings spreading out behind him. The next statue the group passed was of Saint Ardel Choison. He was also an angel winged warrior, but his face was hidden by a cowl and his body by robes, unlike Icharius' who'd been standing in a suit of archaic battle armour, his rippling muscles clearly visible. Choison's hands held a single edged power sword in them, but it was obviously not meant for twin-handed holding. Choison had been martyred at the hands of a Deamon Lord named Fostoriaxx and he'd been the first of the Dark Angel Grand Commanders. Two different Legions? This was confusing Kevin... McKenzie had a lot to explain, and Kevin wasn't sure he wanted to hear it all.

 As they reached the lowest level, Kevin saw one last statue; the one depicting Grand Commander Dante. Dante was clad in a massive Terminator suit and at his hands were a pair of Lightning Claw gauntlets. On the back of each gauntlet a grenade launcher was mounted. Dante was no giant of a man, but he was burly none the less. Powerfully built with broad shoulders and big, strong muscles, he more than well made up for his lack of height, if you can call 1m85 for lack of stature that is... His face wasn't ugly either; a strong jaw but otherwise a look that would classify him as the next James Bond, Kevin thought. He saw Nazz throw an extra glance at the former Grand Commander (Dante) and felt a bit of anger inside of him.

 Kevin looked at his company. The Marines, and Rolf strangely enough, were stern faced. They seemed embittered to be walking here. McGranth walked up to the statue of Dante and made a dignified bow at it. He then turned, looked at Charleston, who nodded, and the two strongest of the bunch pulled open the doors to the Main Hall, where an entire Legion of Space Marines could be at once. Being as empty as it was, it seemed horrible to be standing in it as the thirteen were when they walked into it. Like the rest of the entire Monastery, there were cobwebs all over the place. McKenzie shot the chandeliers a look and the huge, gilt constructions flickered into life. None of them took notice of the tiny creature watching them from the entrance to the hall. It was short, maybe just over 1m50, and had green skin, eyes with red iris, yellowed teeth and long elven ears. No hair on its scalp and ragged clothing adorned its body. The body looked a little like a simian's, with the exception it was made for upright walking and running. It dashed off, as fast as its short legs could carry it.

 Inside the hall, Charleston ran a finger across a dusty chair. "I used to sit here," he simply proclaimed. "And that's where you used to sit, Eddie." Charleston meant McGranth and pointed towards McGranth's chair at the far end of the hall. There were ten great tables present in the hall, each representing a company of Space Marines. At the farthest end, one long table was situated, and it was meant for the Grand Commander's personal staff and the members of the Librarius, such as McKenzie.

 McGranth looked around. It felt great to be treading this ground again... He felt it obliged that he said something, so he did:

 "Charleston, take Ed and go look for fuel. There has to be some in the other ports. Fly if you have to." Charleston set off with Ed in tow. The whooshing sound of a jump pack proclaimed that Charleston had made a jump, probably with Ed in his arms.

 "The others of you; try to find some food supplies that aren't rotten, anything edible. Personally I'm starving and I think you are too. And don't just stop at food supplies; anything that can be of use. Anything!"

 The others started filing out, but McKenzie grabbed Kevin by the collar. He was going to receive his orders from McGranth last, and he wanted Kevin with him. McGranth turned to his Master Lexicanum and smiled. The psyker knew what he was going to get for orders, but stayed anyway.

 "And you McKenzie, I give you the privileged task of going down to the Armoury and try to find some battle-suits that could be of use to us."

 "Glad to be of use, my Grand Commander!" McKenzie said, saluted and dragged Kevin with him outside. As they got without earshot of McGranth, McKenzie told Kevin to follow him into the depths of the Monastery, down to the Armoury.

 "Kevin, I want you to come with me, because there's something I want to show you." McKenzie said without slowing down as the twosome strode down the stairs.

 "Yeah, sure." Kevin replied, unable to resist as he was more or less dragged along by McKenzie's force of will.

 When they got down to the Armoury, McKenzie walked over to a data-terminal, removed a glove and placed his big hand unto a plate in the wall, beside the gate that lead into the Armoury. The plate glowed luminously green for a while, the machines hummed and cogs clicked as the huge gate prepared to open itself. Upon the gate the skull and cog sign of the Adeptus Mechanicus was inscribed. The cog behind the skull turned a few times, settled and the gate opened itself. The skull, set in silver, split itself in the middle as the gate swung open and revealed a huge hall behind it. At first, Kevin saw naught, but after a few seconds, the old electronics awoke and the Armoury hall was flooded in light. It is impossible to even begin describe what Kevin saw, but the roof arched itself in its gothic structure more than a hundred metres above him. There were no windows, so it had to be under ground level. In the roof, huge tanks were held in place by stainless steel/adamantium chains. There were Rhinoceros and Razorback transports, the powerful Predator MBTs and Whirlwind Artillery tanks and of course the most dreaded of all Imperial Tanks; the 60 tonnes monstrosities called Land Raiders and a few variants on the original armament. The original armament of a Land Raider is four lascannons and two heavy bolters. Imagine this stuff augmented, for, say, anti-personnel? Kevin couldn't believe his eyes. He felt a chill go through his veins as he thought a camera on one of the elder looking 'Raiders followed their walk. McKenzie felt his unease.

 "Don't be alarmed," he said calmly. "It's just Old Julius checking who's entering." McKenzie turned and looked up at the battered old tank, and raised a hand and waved. The camera zoomed with its focusing rings, remained silent for a moment, and then swung away from McKenzie and Kevin, obviously not interested any more.

 "You trying to tell me that thing has a soul?" Kevin whimpered.

 "Yes." McKenzie said, thought a while and then added, "A machine soul."

 Kevin gave a shrug and looked up into the roof again. The tanks weren't alone. Amongst them hung seriously battered Land Speeder hovercrafts. They must've been here for repair when the final hour came. They also came in different variants. Kevin took his eyes down from the roof and looked around himself. Lined up at their sides as they'd entered, a small column of five metre tall war-walkers had been standing. They had been bulky constructions, not looking all too agile. McKenzie turned and looked at Kevin as the youth looked back at the mobile suits at the entrance.

 "Dreadnought class armoured walkers." McKenzie explained. "Tombs for the Space Marine heroes crippled beyond medical care. If a Marine officer is so seriously injured that he can no longer lend his experience to his brothers in the fields in a normal suit of armour, he may chose to be incarcerated in a sarcophagus, which can be hooked up into a Dreadnought hull. He can thus fight for his Legion for aeons more." After this McKenzie sighed. He remembered who they'd used every available sarcophagus and Dreadnought at the Siege of the Emperor's Palace, and still they'd had suits left over. They kept on walking.

 Next they passed rows upon rows of empty Space Marine power armour suits. Each suit stood upright, plugged into the wall behind it, its helmet resting at its feet and the backpack hanging from a contraption on the wall beside it. Each and every suit had the colours that McKenzie had on his armour and the Death Angel insignia upon the left shoulder pad. The shoulder pads had black trims, just like McKenzie's. There were of course personal variations for each suit, but they were seldom more than a different rank or company marking. Some helmets had beak like face masks, others had a more gas mask like look to them. Some suits had kneepads, some didn't. They also passed some suits painted white and some in a darker red colour. McKenzie said they belonged to Apothecaries and Tech Marines. They passed a row of black painted suits, and McKenzie simply said they were to be given to Chaplains in the Death Angel Legion. After another row of Death Angel red suits, they came to a dozen or so suits painted blue. Each and every blue suit had intricately carved insignia on their legs or arms. McKenzie explained them to belong to the Librarians, the Space Marine psyker caste. Kevin wondered why McKenzie then didn't wear the blue armour of his caste?

 "Because of the same reason Rolf Yarrick refused to use the black and red trimmed uniform of the Commissariat; it would give me away in battle. I like to have surprise on my side." was McKenzie reply on this question.

 The twosome left the Librarians' suits behind them and got to the last of the suits in the rows; one lone Terminator suit. It was equipped with a single Lightning Claw. McKenzie remembered he'd taken the other in replacement for the one Eddy had lost. He'd mounted an ordinary arm instead. Cursing himself for this, McKenzie turned to the computer terminal before him. There was a screen covering most of the wall. Kevin looked upon it with interest. It looked like one of those new plasma TVs.

 McKenzie pulled out a cord with a socket in each end from somewhere, picked up a data-slate from the floor, dusted it off. He plugged in the cord in both the data-slate and the computer before him. He opened the data-slate and as he did so, the big screen flashed into life. Tapping in his security clearance, McKenzie tapped in some search-information as he talked to Kevin: "You might have noticed that battle-brother McGranth seems uncomfortable around you. I've brought you here to help you understand why this is so..."

 Pressing the activation key for the search, McKenzie started a search through the Monastery's old data banks. At first, the twin-headed eagle symbol flashed up with a text reading. Search in Progress. A chime sounded from somewhere and the Inquisition's mark (=I=) was seen on the screen. On the logo, written in green letters, stood: Enter Access Code. If one had ones eyes with oneself, one could see the tiny note in the lower-left corner that read: "Attempts at hacking through this level is punishable with immediate termination".

 McKenzie silently entered the code that he'd learned so many years ago. It had been childishly simple to break it, he'd remembered. He had done it as a young epistolary. Tapping the confirmation key, the screen flashed again and now the service record of Kevin Poole appeared. It was a long listing. Reports, DNA structure, fingerprints; everything a sane person would want to know and more. Kevin just stared at the photo of the young man that was obviously Kevin Poole. It was like looking into a mirror. He tore his eyes from the photo and looked at the information flashing by on the screen. Of what Kevin could make out, there were his days as a Space Marine Scout, through his steady stream of promotions, all the way to Poole being ranked Lieutenant Commander and placed in charge of the 8th Assault and Reserve Company. Kevin let a low whistle go from his lips.

 "You must've been a hero... " He said very silently to the picture, so that McKenzie wouldn't hear. He didn't.

 "Your counterpart; Kevin Poole." McKenzie said with a gesture towards the screen. "He was a great warrior in the Emperor's service in his day. Slew many of the vile aliens that attack us. Favoured by great Dante like a son, and to be the next Death Angel grand commander after Dante. Then, something happened to change all that."

 McKenzie tapped lightly a button on the data-slate. The screen flickered a while, before it settled. What now rolled up before Kevin was the report that Dante had filed on Poole's attack on McGranth that day many years ago, how Dante had declared Poole and the entire of his Space Marine Company Outlaw from the Death Angels. But Dante's report stopped there. It said nothing of how Poole was to regain his title amongst the proudest of Imperial Warriors. Instead, it was McGranth who began filing reports. He told of the vile betrayal of the 8th outlawed company of the Death Angels on Armageddon, how they'd turned from the Emperor's guiding light on the very day that they should celebrate the Emperor's divinity: The Day of the Feast of the Emperor's Ascension. The report also told on how the once noble Marines had turned to Khorne, Chaos God of Blood and Slaughter and renamed themselves the Berzerkers. It also told how Kevin Poole, once Lieutenant Commander in the Legio Angelicus Mortis had become the Dark Lord of Blood; Kevlinn, King of Berzerkers. It also told the tale of his lightning raid against Iyanden, stealing their C'tan artefact; the mighty battle-axe that was to be known to man as the Axe of Khorne.

 Kevin was torn from his awed thoughts by McKenzie's soft voice: "Kevin Poole betrayed us all. He became a monster; he killed countless people, just because he claimed it was the insane will of his daemon God: Khorne." McKenzie seemed to choke on the name of the Dark God.

 He continued: "This huge catastrophe," McKenzie gestured around himself, meaning the entire Imperium. "He deserves the sole blame for it all. He caused it all, Kevin: his ego, his animosity and his sense that his honour had been dragged in the dirt. His ego because of the fact that he was to be the next leader, not McGranth, his sense of honour because that he had been foiled of his promised position of power and his animosity towards McGranth because of this. Although, he always had that animosity towards McGranth, ever since we started out as Scouts." McKenzie lowered his eyes towards the floor. "It wasn't made better that McGranth became chosen to Terminator service early in his service. Poole never would've succeeded in doing what Eddie did. Eddie became a veteran sergeant in his scout training, Poole not until he was a full-fledged Marine with many years under his belt." The tall, lean Marine sighed heavily. An uneasy silence settled down as Kevin kept reading parts of the information rolled up before him.

 "I don’t get it," Kevin said, pulling his eyes from the screen to look at McKenzie. "What does all this have to do with me?"

 McKenzie looked up sharp and fixed Kevin with a deep stare of his dark eyes. "Kevin, I've seen the way you treat Eddy and his two friends. Your animosity towards him is very similar to the animosity that Kevin Poole had against McGranth."

 Kevin wasn't staggered at all at this. McKenzie was impressed. Any other human would've backed away form his stare, but this young man looked back. There was true grit inside of him. Maybe he wasn't as Kevlinn after all?

 "Oh yeah," Kevin said and shrugged, looking round at random stuff in the armoury, "I admit I may seem harsh on them sometimes, and they do get on my nerves, but I don't hate them."

 "So, you can control your attitude towards them?" McKenzie asked, looking thoughtful.

 "Yeah, I can." Kevin replied smartly, prepared to show this super-human he could do whatever he was asked to do.

 McKenzie smiled softly. "I'm surprised Kevin, I didn't expect you to be so reasonable."

 "Well... " Kevin said, scratching his chin, "What we're doing now is important. I guess there are bigger things right now, then how I feel towards the do... I mean the Eds. I guess I can lighten up a bit, for something this big."

 "Thank you Kevin," McKenzie said, placing his hand Kevin's shoulder and smiling his gap-toothed smile towards the youth. "Now, how about we tell the others about the fact that the Armoury is intact?"

 "Just a minute," Kevin said, holding up a finger as to stop McKenzie. "I wonder; what role did the other of my friends play? I mean, i know what role I played; traitor, and the Eds are you, but what about Rolf, Nazz, the Kankers and Johnny?"

 "Well, Rolf you know was a famous commissar general. One of the greatest ever, in fact: a warrior without match. Except in Kevlinn. He fought the Dark Lord with the sole ambition to destroy him. The reason, as I see your questioning look, is that Lord Kevlinn killed all Yarricks, except Rolf Yarrick, and he swore in blood that he wouldn't rest until Kevlinn was laid to rest. The tool used to draw the blood for the oath was no other than the Yarrickian sword. You know, the silver blade that Rolf now has?"

 "Yeah, seen it many times, in its sheath. But what about the others?"

 "It is as follows: Nazz counter part was in fact an Imperial Saint: Canoness Nazerine Almita of the Order of the Bloodied Rose. She was a great warrior as well as a beautiful woman. Age didn't foul her appearance. She didn't die the martyr's death, though. She died in her sleep, of age, which I find very nice in such a war-ravaged life as she lived. Her armour is held forever pure in a stasis field, her cloak being a thing that it said that not even power swords could cut through. Before the Siege of the Emperor's Palace, I had the armour moved here, because the safest place in the Imperium is the Armoury of a Space Marine Fortress Monastery, with the exception of the Apothecarion, where our gene-seed is held. Any way, Canoness Almita was a great tactician and solely devoted to the Emperor. It was rumoured she'd met the Dark Lord once, but hopefully it is only hearsay.

 The Kankers undoubtedly are counter parted by the Canoness sisters Kanker, that were taken by the Hive Fleet named Canker by the Magos Biologis. They later altered the spelling to represent the once-human sisters new status as Hive Queens. The Omega Squadron Outlaws, your Eds, defeated them and they became devout sisters again, but forever kept under the Inquisition's never-flinching gaze. Before they were returned to the True Path though, they spread much carnage and mayhem with their minions. I prayed to the Emperor every morning after they'd been turned back that my brother would do the same... "

 This last sentence McKenzie spoke like a whisper. He didn't want to be entangled in a long and sentimental story of his life and his brother: George McKenzie, or Hive Magus Grimjaw as he'd called himself. He was dead now, Grimjaw, and McKenzie was both happy and sad over this at the same time. He pulled himself together and started again.

 "Now, Johnny, he's a special case. His counterpart wasn't even human. Johnny's counterpart was a powerful Eldar Farseer entitled Johnnaiskei I Laryetille, Guardian of the Mon-Keigh, the Humans. He watched us humans for hundreds of years, until just after the Outlaws left. We'll never know why the Craftworld named Vurupano in their tongue, or roughly Plankian in Gothic. I know, it sounds weird; therefore I prefer the Eldar word for it. Anyway, Johnnaiskei was an extremely powerful psyker, outmatching me with ease. He was capable of crushing Deamons to pulp with one word, awake a thunderstorm that could wipe out cities with a single hand movement. Oh, I envied him, I did. But we were good friends the time I knew him. He let me in on many Eldar secrets." McKenzie made a pause and sighed. "What I heard, he died of age fifty years before the Imperium fell to the claws of Chaos. He must've been very old, as Eldar can turn millennia old. Dear God-Emperor, there are times when I feel that we are closer to the Eldar than we might think...

 "So, Kevin, there you have it; the roles the others played in this great game of chess. A game that we Imperial humans already have been more or less checked in."

 "I see." Kevin replied, reflecting on what McKenzie had said. "Alright, I think I get this now. I doubted you before, but seeing how things are, black on white, I can't deny what we're facing..."

 "Very good Kevin," McKenzie beamed. "Oh, and do me a favour."

 "What's that?"

 "Don't ever let your anger control your actions, it can lead you down a very dark path."

 "I won't McKenzie, I won't" Kevin smiled and ripped of a salute.

 McKenzie chuckled at this. "Good. Now, what do you say about that we find the others and tell them that the Armoury has been untouched and that they can get new gear here?"

 "No sweat, but, what if, any one, you know... " Kevin's voice trailed off.

 "Any one would come in here? Please Kevin, there hasn't been anyone here for many hundreds of years. Besides, Old Julius and the others can keep an eye on things as we're gone, can't they?"

 "Guess so... " Kevin said as the two walked out to join the others. The living machines scared the living daylights out of him. Machine soul? It was getting scary. The Imperial humans had obviously trod down a track of evolution the Terrans hadn't.