trans_9 | The Feast of blades [Open]

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The Feast of blades [Open]

Erhart was quite intrigued by the Sensorium demonstration, so he immediately starts utilizing it for his own needs, creating a huge scene from one of the many battles that grace his roll of honor. In this case, the battle of Carrion Gulf, third year of the Torment crusade.

It was a manufactory world. All large buildings with huge smoke-stacks, clattering conveyor belts, and downtrodden citizenry. And then Chaos came, turning the citizens into frothing cultists, and populating the world with the dark reflections of Erhart, the Chaos Space marines.

His fighting company rides the lighting, bombarding the planet in ceramite and steel drop pods which crack open like eggs, disgorging black-armored paladins like himself inside the capital. Bolters roar from friend and foe alike as the defenders of the faith, and the defilers of the faith square off, ripping into one another at range.

"INTO THEM!"

Erhart roars, through augmented external speakers, before thundering down the assault ramp of his drop pod, and decapitating a corrupted Chaos Marine with a two-handed swing from the Black Sword, the crackling of the power blade drowning out even his battlecry for a moment as it bites through armor, flesh, and bone.

And so it begins....

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"Chaos. The great archenemy. They are like myself and Cargn only... corrupted. Sorcerous."

He kicks a cultist who'd chosen the break in their action as they conversed to close in, shattering his ribcage and sending him sprawling to the ground.

"Try to keep up." He chuckles harshly, as he turns once again into the bolt-storm, his armor sparking and shuddering as mass-reactive bolts slam into it, tearing his purity seals and his tabard into shreds.

Oh, of course. Of course there are evil mirror twins of Erhart and company. Zouichi raised a dead marine like a shield to defend against the bolt fire, then hurled him bodily towards several more cultists.

"I'll try," he said dryly, alternately severing limbs and blowing open holes in Chaos Marine armor. Hopefully, Erhart didn't need that tabard.

"For the Emperor!" Erhart shouts, slamming a Marine back, then cuts a another from hip to thigh with a cleaving cut.

He privately resolves to ask Zouichi how he's managing to cut through ceramite with his axe.

Unfortunately, Zouichi didn't have a battle cry. He was more of the strong, silent type. The former especially was on display as he punched a Marine so hard the man's skull kind of just caved in in a spurt of blood.

Anyway, the axe was made of crazy future stuff and Erhart shouldn't question it unless he wanted to see what it did to cyborg knights with laser shields (protip: it cut them).

The scene ends, after more slaughter, and Erhart looks back to Zouichi, his armor and the remnants of his tabard pained a deep crimson by the rich blood of Astartes.

"This was a good war. And you fought well... better than any non-enhanced human I've met. I can see I was right about you."

Erhart sure spent a lot of time talking about his tabard. Zouichi reholstered his pistol. A swift, precise slice through the air with his axe to clear the blood from its surface, then he collapsed it again, returning it to his side.

"I was created for battle. It would be a problem if I wasn't good at it. But... thanks. I'm a little surprised at how similar your world is to mine."

Surprised, and slightly weirded out.

"There is only war, in all the places throughout the galaxy. Would you like to see how it all started?"

Well... why not?

Zouichi gave Erhart a nod. "If you don't consider it too personal."

"Given that I was not alive at the time, I can hardly say that."

He waves a hand dramatically, the scene changes to something like this: http://images.wikia.com/warhammer40k/images/a/af/Defending_The_Palace.jpg

"These are my forefathers, the imperial Fists, fighting at the Siege of Terra, where the Emperor's Favored son, Horus Lupercal, turned against his father, and threw half of the Space Marines of the Imperium against him. It was the greatest war in history. Oceans boiled.... orbital plates the size of continents were cast down from the sky. Soldiers died in their billions."

He pauses the simulation for a moment, pointing out a Gold-armored knight with black crosses, Templar crosses like he wears, "Our lord and Progenitor, Sigismund. Rogal Dorn's gene-son, and the Emperor's Champion. The first of my lineage."

"Rogal Dorn?" Jeez, Erhart, try to explain things as if Zouichi came from a totally different world. Which he had.

Zouichi thought he caught the basics, anyway. The Emperor was betrayed, half the Marines backed his mutinous son, the other half stuck around afterward to make Erhart. Got it.

"What was the war about?"

"Rogal Dorn was the Primarch of the Imperial Fists, who were the forefathers of the Black Templars, Crimson Fists, and .... other, lesser Chapters. Though the Fists themselves still stand as warrior-masons and the praetorians of the Emperor, their numbers are reduced to 1,000, as per the Codex Astartes."

As for the why, Erhart actually manages to look thoughtful and says.
"That's a good question, Zouichi, and one we can't really answer well. All we know is that Horus sold his soul to Chaos, gathered 8 of his brothers to his cause, as well as their Legions, and tried to depose his father the Emperor. We... the loyal forces of the Imperium, won, but the price was steep. Primarchs died, Terra was devastated, the Emperor himself was confined to the golden throne due to the mortal wounds he had suffered dueling his beloved son. In the end, the Imperium was forced more or less on the defensive by the massive losses it has sustained, and only the Black Templars, my chapter, also known as the eternal crusade, has stayed true to our original purpose, pushing back the boundaries of darkness and bringing new worlds into the Imperium of man. Everywhere else, the marines and guard defend. We attack."

"I suppose by bringing worlds into the Imperium, you mean conquering them? What happens to its original inhabitants?"

Zouichi wasn't too big on the whole religious fanaticism thing. He was more or less an atheist, though he didn't really give religion much thought either way. What he did want to know, though, was what the toll of this whole faith in the Emperor thing took on those in its path.

"Original inhabitants? You mean Xenos? Or maybe the heretics you just saw..."

He considers the question more seriously.

"In all honesty, any non-imperial world we still find at this point is generally glad to join us. They're generally pre warp travel, and want to join the mass of humanity and the seat of it all, Terra."

He is quiet for a moment and says, almost sadly, "BUt there are worlds that have become corrupt since the age of strife. Enslaved to machine intelligences or ruled by cruel Xenoforms. There is little we can do for them but show mercy."

"So you kill them."

Was this really what humanity had been reduced to? Relying on 'magical' technology no one really understood? Genetically engineering segments of its populace into inhuman killing machines? Destroying anyone who refused to be conquered?

It had its dark moments, true... but how did a curious, adaptable species like humanity descend into another age of ruthless, fanatically religious imperialism? Hadn't they learned anything from the mistakes of the past?

"Of course we do.... I have shown you the Archenemy of humanity today. We cannot compromise in our fight with them." He raises a hand, showing many, man other beings, all of them horrific, inhuman, and destructive.
"These are the other Xeno races of the galaxy. Some you know." He gestures to a space elf, wearing the skin of a human as trophy on his breastplate. An eldar, of sorts.

"Some you do not. BUt the point is simple. Humanity is surrounded on all sides by monsters. We must destroy them, if anything is to survive."

Zouichi shook his head. "There are many species that may look frightening or alien to human eyes. It doesn't mean they're inferior or evil. It certainly doesn't make them monsters." He motioned to Erhart's simulation. "And I honestly don't think humanity can point fingers when it comes to destructiveness."

"You talk about bringing worlds into the glory of the empire, but what it really sounds like is an excuse to take anything you want and kill anyone that gets in the way. 'Show mercy'? Please. Did they ask for your 'mercy'? Or did they fight you tooth or nail, struggling to survive while you slaughtered them and told yourself it was for their own benefit? Why don't you call it what it really is? Or is that not included in the God-Emperor's Golden Handbook of Why Humans Are Better than Everyone Else?"

If Zouichi had been so inclined, he might have spit in disgust. This was the other face of humanity, the one that showed itself when people allowed themselves to be persuaded by gilded dogma and grandiose speeches that what they wanted -- to be better than everyone else, to be more worthy, to possess land that they coveted, to expunge their environments of anything that was unfamiliar and therefore evil, to justify why they had plenty while others had nothing -- was theirs by right.

"I can't believe humanity's fallen as far as it has in your world."

"... None of these species will negotiate. The only one we've tried with is the Eldar, and occasionally... well, the Imperium is a vast place, and the Crusaders of Dorn aren't always what is needed." He shrugs. "The Orks, the Tyranids, and the other creatures I have shown you will simply blast you as soon as look at you. You can't negotiate with something that you can't communicate with, even if it wasn't an unholy horror from beyond this galaxy."

He glares down at Zouichi. "As for those we killed as a mercy, it depends. Sometimes they fought, sometimes they did not. As for what we doing being an excuse, consider for a moment that every other race can and will wipe us out on a whim. Expansion is the only valid option for survival. Stasis or even withdrawal means a slow or fast death."

"Perhaps we have fallen. It has been ten thousand years since the Emperor walked among us, commanding our armies and leading the Administratum himself. But we still fight on, because we must survive. Honor, faith, and loyalty are all we have left. We... are without hope, but this does not make us unable to act."

There's an almost audible sneer as he asks a question, finally, "Can you say that you would fight on as we have without hope? Knowing all that has been lost, and will never be again?"

Zouichi looked vaguely horrified. Was Erhart really a member of the Imperium's elite soldiers? "I don't care if your enemies eat kittens and drink puppy blood. Even monsters deserve the dignity of the truth. What you're describing is systematic genocide -- it doesn't matter what words you care to couch that in or how you care to justify it. If you can't even admit that much, you don't belong on the battlefield."

Oh, come on, Erhart, that was a softball question. Zouichi looked almost insulted at its implication. "As you define it, yes. I can and I have. There is even less chance of saving Earth now than there was when I left. I could not even confirm that there were any humans left alive when I was taken aboard the ship. But if you're saying that means my world or yours was without hope, you are mistaken. There is always hope. And there is always a choice."

"No matter how dire the situation, there always exists the potential to leave the world in a better state than when it started. Those that say otherwise are only seeking to excuse their own behavior, to claim that their actions are justified because there is no other choice. If humanity ever accepts that there is no hope left for them, they might thrive across a billion worlds and still be as good as dead."

Erhart's body language is puzzled. "When exactly have I lied? Yes, we practice Xenocide or Exterminatus on the xenos where we can, and only negotiate where we must. Of all of them, only the Eldar even attempt such a thing when approached by our Rogue Traders. All others simply blast them from the void."

He shakes his head, "But the Eldar are treacherous as well. Many a Chapter Master has accepted their aid only to have the fickle ones turn on their honored brotherhoods once their mutual foe is slain, be it Chaos, the Necrons, the Orks, or the Tyranids."

He is quiet after Zouichi's tirade about hope, and says, softly. "It is sad that you were not found by the Templars earlier. You would have made a fine Chaplain, your words echo Grimaldus."

Zouichi shook his head, almost as though he might shrug off the weight of some loathsome mantle. The very idea of being some kind of religious servant, of indoctrinating others into cultivating the same kind of unquestioning beliefs as those apparently held by the citizens of the Imperium, repulsed him.

Sad that he hadn't been found by the Templars? Sad that he hadn't been brainwashed into believing as Erhart did? As if he were some kind of malleable clay that could be moulded without resistance of any kind? As if he weren't an individual capable of making his own decisions -- determining his own fate? Plenty of people, scientists included, had regarded him as though he were a thing, and he'd never felt particularly bothered by it. But this...

If it was a compliment Erhart was trying to convey, it was neither appreciated nor accepted. Zouichi did not want to believe he would ever have ended up like one of the Templars. Not even if he'd been born in the same universe. Not even had he been human. He took a step backward, away from Erhart, every element of his posture signifying rejection.

"I don't know who this Grimaldus is, but I want nothing to do with him."

Erhart whispers, in response, barely audible even with augmitterenhancement. "That at least will not be a problem then. If things are as they say, and my world is gone. His voice is lost to the Warp forever." Erhart stays where he is, the red eyes of his helm showing nothing now. He stands, utterly still now, almost disturbingly immobile for a being of vitality and dynamism like the Astartes. Waiting for Zouichi to say something, or turn his back. Stoic, and accepting of whatever will come.

He didn't have long to wait. Zouichi was honestly too disturbed by what Erhart had said to stick around for much longer. With another shake of his head, Zouichi turned and strode out of the Sensoriums. He didn't look back. He didn't want to.

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The Feast of blades [Open]

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