Fan Fiction: The Soul Of Caledan

[Varlas Caledan]

The Soul Of Caledan


A Warhammer 40,000 Fan Fiction
Author: Christopher Wellens

Introduction
For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth.
He is the master of mankind by he will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies.
He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the dark age of technology.
He is the Carrion lord of the Imperium for whom blood is drunk and flesh eaten.
Human blood and human flesh-the stuff of which the Imperium is made.
To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruellest and most bloody regime imaginable.
This is the tale of those times.
It is a universe you can live in today-if you dare-for this is a dark and terrible era where you will find little comfort or hope.
If you want to take part in the adventure then prepare yourself now.
Forget the power of technology,
science and common humanity.
Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for there is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter and the laughter of thirsting gods.
But the universe is a big place and, whatever happens, you will not be missed...
Intro excerpted from The Official Warhammer 40,000 Rule book.
Disclaimer: I Do Not own Warhammer 40,000 and make no assumptions of ownership. All Themes within this story are based upon Warhammer 40,000 created by the Games Workshop. I do however retain copyright over the story-line and Original characters within under the Creative expression Act. This Story is nothing more than some good clean fun. Other than that Please Enjoy.


Chapter 1-Varlas Caledan

The hall which he now stood within was that of his Forefathers. House Caledan was quite possibly one of the largest estates on the Planet of Kelnaris. Varlas brushed his nostrils lightly in irritation to all of the cleansing incense that clung to the air. The hall was dark and dimly lit by floating grav-lamps.
Varlas stood amidst eight Men. All in their late ages, one of which had surpassed the age of a hundred. Each man was linked via a helm to a Psychic communications device which channelled their energies.
Varlas had to wait every time in this choking room to receive his assignments. Varlas Caledan, Son of Erloff Caledan was a Daemon Hunter. The Caledan Family had been for nearly a Millenia. Unlike the Inquisition though. House Caledan were not Sanctioned Hunter’s and to make matters worse nearly all of them were Un-sanctioned Psykers. Varlas had Attempted to join the Inquisition several times in the past but had been ignored each time.

Varlas was not supposed to be a Hunter to begin with. But after the deaths of his father and Brother he was left to pick up the slack. After several years of hunting however he had more than proved his worth. Varlas pulled himself from his Reverie as the men lifted their boney fingers to the ceiling and spoke as one. ‘Your mission is to go to the Mandrethel Estate and eradicate several Daemons that have appeared without trace’ The old men all finished breathing heavily. Their breath hung heavily in the cold room. Frost gathered in circles where they stood as the ambient temperature dropped due to their powers.

‘I shall go with all haste my Lords. By the Spirit of Sogor Caledan I shall not falter.’ Varlas turned to leave but halted as a single voice called out. He turned to see that one of the old men had detached himself from his helm and was walking over to him aided by an oaken cane. ‘Varlas my boy I must warn you that these Daemons are lesser Daemons of Nurgle, Lord of Pestilence, thrice damned be his name. But there may also be a Greater Daemon with them judging from the disturbance in the warp. May the Emperor Guide you.’ The old man smiled before leaving Varlas in the Great hall to contemplate. ‘Thank you Uncle Brelor’ Varlas muttered before leaving for the Hangar.
The Hangar was busy with milling Servitors all performing their alloted tasks. Varlas stood and looked upon one for a moment. It was a man. Or at least it was before the Adeptus Mechanicus had converted most of its limbs and organs with cybernetics. This one in particular had eight legs like an Arachnid. Its head was little more than a skull with skin stretched over it. Where its mouth once was now lay a Vox caster which replaced the now shrivelled voice box with a synthetic voice. It’s arms were large Mechanical pincers. On its back it said Lifter Servitor V.

Another Servitor Approached Varlas this one however was hidden under a robe. From inside the hood Varlas could see two blood red lights that were its eyes. ‘Your Equipment has been laidout’ it said in a worn voice. Varlas followed the Servitor to another Chamber which adjoined the Hangar.
The room was lit well and did not reek of the Promethium and oil of the Hangar thanks to the built in Air-Scrubbers.
From the table that sat before him he retrieved his Psychic Sword and Plasma pistol. Next to the Table was a Locker. Inside was his Armour. Varlas tied back his blonde hair and opened his robe dropping it to the floor. He shivered slightly as a breeze from the Hangar brushed by his nether region.

He quickly donned his armour. It consisted mainly of an Armoured body-glove with boots. Over the top of this he wore a Long black coat which was darker than pitch. Varlas Holstered his plasma pistol on his hip with a Mag-clip and sheathed his sword at his hip on the opposite side. When Varlas Emerged into the Hangar once again he found that his land speeder and Gun Cutter had been prepared. The Landspeeder sat in the hold of the Gun Cutter. The Land Speeder had been sprayed a dark black and had been modified to allow it to fly higher than most.
The Gun cutter was a small ship capable of transporting a group of men and two vehicles. However as Varlas’ personal transport it carried only one vehicle and his weapons usually or at least it would once he had finished work on it. Varlas boarded the ship and felt the loading ramp rise quickly beneath his feet. The Servitor pilot had Obviously sensed him boarding and readied the ship for departure. Steam hissed as hydraulic pistons lifted the landing gear. The Gun Cutter quickly ascended through the roof of the Ceiling hatch which was double the size of the ship. The Ship quickly put full thrust to the engines and departed for the next province where Varlas was to carry out his latest contract.
***
As the Gun-cutter banked lazily through the clouds like a sky-kite, Varlas readied his Landspeeder for the drop. When the Servitor pilot’s Auspex read that the Cutter was but a few miles from their destination it activated the landing ramp. Varlas ignited the engines. ‘Good luck on your assignment Master’ Said the Servitor from the cockpit. Varlas flashed an animal grin as he placed his foot down hard on the accelerator. The Land-speeder left the back of the Gun cutter like a round from a Bolter.
The landspeeder drifted downward through the cloud layer, descending like an angel from heaven.
The auspex rang out loudly as it signalled incoming projectiles from below. Varlas could see nothing but evaded regardless. He did so in the nick of time as several putrid balls of acid flew past him. Below were three lesser Daemons of Nurgle, the Chaos god of pestilence and disease. One of them had been a man once. Another had been an Eldar by the look of it. And the last had been an Ork. Of that he was sure. Each one had been rotted from within. That rot now possessed their corpses under the power of Nurgle. Each one Stared up at the approaching Landspeeder with half rotten smiles that dripped putrid effluents on the ground causing the soil to bubble.
Varlas had to think fast. He didn’t have much time and didn’t have the luxury of turning back. He was a faithful servant of the Emperor Sanctioned or not. He would do his duty as an imperial citizen. As a Daemon Hunter of house Caledan.

[Varlas Caledan]

Chapter 2-Revelations From A Daemon

The first thing that came into his mind was a Phoenix Dive. A rather risky tactic that he had used once before .But never from such a height. ‘Oh well, No time like the present’ He chimed trying to dispel his nerves and having some success. Varlas engaged the autopilot on the Landspeeder and it shot off to land behind the state home that was infested. The Ork and Human nurgling bolted off in pursuit dripping effluence in their wake. The Eldar Nurgling even with its rotten corrupt mind still had enough sense to realise that this was too simple.
As if to confirm it’s suspicions Varlas drove his psychic blade through the demon’s chest from behind. ‘Go with the Eldar my fallen Brother’ Varlas whispered as the possessed corpse disintegrated into putrid green ooze seeping into the soil. Varlas had jumped from the Landspeeder as it left as a distraction. He had relied on his black coat and Bodyglove for camouflage as he fell behind the Daemons.
Varlas found the fallen Eldar’s wraith-bone amulet, as far as he could tell it was still intact. The Eldar’s immortal soul resided within. Varlas took it out of respect to his half-blood lineage. Varlas felt sympathy seep through him as he looked upon the amulet. He was part Eldar on his Mother’s side, she died not long after he had been born. An inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos killed her on the spot and she didn’t even fight back. Varlas fought for control between his human and Eldar emotions. The Eldar within sympathised with the fallen Eldar but the Human in him was utterly reviled by the alien filth. One thing they shared in common was hatred of chaos. That was what made Varlas so powerful.
Varlas pushed on toward the Estate house he caught up with the human nurgling and dispatched it by severing its head from its lopsided shoulders. The Ork turned to face him. Though it was infected and rotten to the core it’s primal strength and instinct for war still remained. The Ork Swung out trying to crush the puny human that confronted it.

Varlas dived and weaved between its blows with cat like prowess. He saw everything as though it was in slow motion. He breathed a silent thanks to his mother for his dexterity. The Strength of his Father helped him next as he severed an arm from the plagued beast. Varlas then merged the strength and finesse of both powers when he used his mental abilities. His Mother had been an acolyte to the Farseer of her Craftworld and his father was also an accomplished psyker.
Varlas Flayed the Daemon down to its base molecules with a blast of purple-blue lightning. Warp energy crackled around Varlas and he quickly reined in his potency careful not to destroy the client’s property. Varlas burst through the open doorway and cut down two nurglings that made a sickeningly meagre attempt at trying to kill him. Varlas flurried his sword cleaning its blade.
He walked through the old Estate house checking the rooms for enemies but found nought. Something was not right. Varlas was caught off guard as a giant hand punched through the wall beside him grasping him chokingly about the waist. When the dust had settled enough Varlas could see a Greater Daemon of Nurgle. It was large and malformed. It had two horns, one shorter than the other.Its eyes were red orbs with black slits for pupils. Varlas could feel it probing at his psychic defences, looking for some weakness.
‘Release me Daemon so that I may release you from your wretchednous ’. Varlas said trying not to let strain enter his voice. The Daemon laughed ‘Brave young hunter. And fool hardy...Just like your father’. Replied the Daemon, its voice a mess of gargling and mucus, though Varlas could hear hatred in its voice.
Varlas flinched at the Daemon’s comment. ‘I Finally have something to use against that Khornate fool’ The Daemon laughed. Slime dripping from its maw.
Confusion speared through Varlas like a hot knife. ‘My Father is dead....killed by Blood letters.’ Said Varlas as evenly as possible as he regained his focus.

‘By Nurgle’s Pestilence if that were only true. Your Father has been a thorn in my side for the past 15 years’ The Daemon Spat viscosity on the floor to mark his disgust.
Varlas managed to unhook his plasma pistol and levelled it at the Daemon and shooting it in the head. The bolt of blue-purple plasma tore a hole through its head and carried on through the wall behind easily. The demon’s unsettling Asymmetrical smile still remained as the hole was quickly filled with new ill looking flesh. 'My master said you would be a pain. And I would kill you now were I not commanded to spare you, for now I leave you. Just remember that I. Sloreth. I shall return for your soul but first my regards to your family.’
Varlas was thrown into the adjacent wall. The Greater Daemon left through the hole in the wall it had created. It entered a waiting warp gate and vanished as it closed. The breach in the wall was quickly filled with lesser daemon’s as Varlas rose to his feet.
‘In the name of the Emperor Return to the hell from whence you came lest ye be crushed in his honour.’ Said Varlas reciting a piece of text his father had taught him. The Daemon’s simply smiled with bared teeth and fangs as they charged in. Varlas smiled as he likewise charged forward with vigour and fire in his heart.

Varlas had dispatched the Lesser Daemons with relative ease that came with being a daemon hunter, the flight home seemed to take longer but Varlas didn’t mind too much. He needed time to figure things out. Though when he arrived home he wished he had been quicker.
When he saw House Caledan come into view his heart nearly stopped in his chest.Black smoke rolled from the windows like oil stained waves. The Majority of house Caledan was still intact, though several corridors and rooms on the exterior had collapsed. Fire burned around the entrance to the Manor House and poured through open windows. Pestilence covered the extremities of the Manor like acne on a Teenagers face. Puss dripped down the walls from huge boils that looked as though they had been made from human remains.
The Pilot Servitor brought the Gun Cutter down next to the estate, no sooner had the rear loading ramp descended Varlas leapt onto the gravel approach to the Manor entrance. Varlas halted quickly in his tracks as a flaming figure broke through the door spreading evermore flames that licked up the side of the building like a Daemon’s Tongue.

The fire wreathed victim staggered toward Varlas, his skin began smouldering as the flames that bathed him began to abruptly die out. His Flesh was the colour of mucus and covered with cancerous growths that seemed to grow before Varlas with incredible speed. The smell of putrid filth and burnt meat filled Varlas’ senses and his stomach started to turn sickeningly. As Varlas stared at the victim’s face through the malignant growth he recognised him. ‘Ernestus?’ Varlas breathed in dismay; it was one of the elders from the Psyker hall within house Caledan.
‘Yes dear boy’ Ernestus managed through his throat with a gargling sound. ‘why....why have you...done this?’ he struggled. Varlas moved toward the old man warily as he spoke. ‘I have nothing to do with this Elder Ernestus, I swear on the honour of Caledan’ Varlas said trying to figure out what his Elder meant. Ernestus swiped at Varlas with the claws of his nails that had hardened and mutated. ‘You have no right to that name Liar. Heretic’ Ernestus spat Venomously.
Varlas stopped in his tracks at the statement, he felt the fire in his heart rising in anger. How could he-a devoted servant to house Caledan and The Emperor of Mankind-be A heretic, it was absurd and yet Ernestus had spat it at him as though it were the truth.
As Varlas struggled with what he had heard he nearly didn’t dodge in time as a bolt of lightning flared towards him. Ernestus fingers smoked as he stood with his hand raised towards Varlas and fired a series of searing warp energies. 'Though I am Infected...with the vile essence of Chaos I shall take your screaming soul back with me into the Warp, I swear by the Emperor I will.’ Ernestus managed coughing as his oesophagus was being consumed by the virus’s that ravaged his frail body.

Varlas dived and weaved avoiding the blasts but fell as a whip of warp energy lashed about his legs. The wind was knocked from him and he quickly tried to free himself as Ernestus’ foot came down on his face and he felt his nose break. He could taste iron in his throat and his heart beating furiously as Ernestus held a hand over his face that glowed with arcane energies. Varlas moved his head as a blast of lightning came down just barely escaping, the excess energy however still managed to run through the floor and speared through his chest causing him to cry out like a wounded animal.
Varlas managed to unsheathe his sword and cut his legs free of the snare holding them, his psychic blade hummed with power. As Varlas stood another arc of lightning was launched at him but this time he was ready he dived below it feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up as it passed over him, he stood quickly and deflected another blast with his blade and nearly lost his footing. Ernestus was now being reduced to nothing more than a Skeleton with putrid growths in place of flesh. Varlas Knew that his Elder had gone and resolved to pray for him so that his soul would find its way to the Emperor’s side.
Varlas felt Galvanised by the fact that his Elder was gone and all that remained was his tainted possessed body. He dashed forwards dodging and deflecting the coruscating energies and with one powerful stroke separated Ernestus’ head from his shoulders. His body slumped and began transforming into a pile of foul smelling goo. Varlas looked around the house exterior some of the fires had been put out by milling servitors that he had only now noticed. Varlas planted the blade of his sword in front of the remains of Elder Ernestus and said a quick prayer for his immortal soul. Varlas’ rage subsided and in its place great sorrow grew. As the Servitors got the blaze under control Varlas Entered House Caledan. As he walked the halls leading to the Hall of Ancestors he surveyed the damage. The walls were mainly charred black but the protection shields around the more expensive pictures had saved them from the blaze, in the pictures were the greatest Caledan’s of their ages.

Varlas approached the Hall of Ancestor’s Main Door. It was a large door made from gold and reinforced adamantium over which lay a void shield, the design on the door depicted the Emperor bringing light to the universe. In his right fist was a blazing sword and in the other a miniature sun depicting the Emperor’s guiding light, a glorious halo was emblazoned about the Emperor’s head.
Varlas was gratified to find that the security protocols had engaged and sealed the chamber. He entered his security code into a cogitator screen beside the door. The machine spirit within the Cogitator hummed as it verified his code, eventually the doors opened with an almost aching groan that rose from the door frames as if in protest to their sudden movement.

[Varlas Caledan]

Chapter 3: Excommunicate Traitoris

The inside of The Hall of Ancestor’s was unaffected by the fire it seemed though the smell of burnt flesh and cooked meat filled the air overpowering even the holy incense that literally pooled around the floor in a mist it was so thick. At the head of the room there were two Arma-glass windows with stain glass motifs depicting heroic actions of House Caledan since its founding nearly a thousand years ago.
Varlas heard feet shuffling from behind him. He turned to see his Uncle Brelor, his eyes were wet with tears and the side of his head was bleeding. ‘Uncle’ said Varlas as he moved to his uncle’s side. His uncle held his hand up to Varlas and struck him with a thunderous bolt of purple lightning. Varlas fell. His skin smouldered with the heat of it as he fell to his knees and collapsed. The last thing he heard before he passed into unconsciousness was his Uncle say ‘How did you become a heretic?. Of all the pain Varlas had endured getting here it was as nothing to the pain he felt now.
****
He was Dangling. That was the first thing that registered in his brain when he began coming around. He could feel gravity pulling him downward his feet unable to touch the ground. His head ached like he’d been head butted by a mad Grox. The room smelt damp. The air was scented with moss and mould. When he finally remembered how to open his eyes he did so slowly. He caught glimpses of some of the Elders stood at wooden lecterns facing him. Flickering candlelight cast ghosting shadows from their withered frames. Some of them looked as though they had been in combat; one had his arm in a sling.
As Varlas’ eyes focused he saw that his Uncle Brelor was stood ahead of him behind a lectern with the Crest of Caledan. It was at this moment that Varlas realised where he was. The Dungeons below house Caledan. The Dungeon was of a stone construction, the floor was cobbled as were the walls, they ran slick with ichor from disuse and disrepair, and the roof was a vaulted dome with chains wrought with rust dangling like vines from a tree canopy.
'I....It wasn’t...’ Varlas tried to say with his rasping voice. His Uncle held his hand up in silence. Varlas looked above him, his neck paining in protest. His hands and neck were held firmly in a black-stock. Around the wrist cuffs of the stock were Psycho-Reactive crystals. If he attempted to escape using his Psychic abilities then he would be shocked with incalculable pain. He knew because he had returned to house Caledan with many a psyker that had been put into these same stocks. These poor souls had all met with painful deaths.

His Uncle cleared his throat before speaking. It was clear on his face that he was pained, not from the bandaged wound on his head though. This was more of a heartfelt pain. Though the other Elders looked at Varlas with nought but contempt, one or two were cradling snub pistols out of sight waiting for an excuse to execute him as a heretic. ‘Varlas Caledan you are hereby charged with the crimes of breaking faith with house Caledan and The Immortal Emperor of Mankind, You are also accused of Trafficking with Daemons and the terrible crime of heresy.’ Brelor looked as though he were about to break down but quickly regained his composure. 'How do you plead?...And please remember that the Emperor shall judge your soul here after.’

At first Varlas moved his mouth wordlessly like a fish out of water until he found his voice. 'Not Guilty, why would I foreswear my oaths and betray the Emperor and House Caledan?’ Varlas Managed. 'Many less noble than yourself have fallen and those more noble also, why should it be deniable in your case?’ one of the Elder’s said, the others nodded their agreement. ‘I would not betray my duties or you my lords?’ Varlas Said venomously. His rage building and a red mist descending past his eyes. He screwed his eyes tight as he felt searing pain rip through him, his toes curled and he gritted his teeth before crying out. The stocks he was bound in sensed his rage and had shocked him before he had a chance to use his powers.
As the electric charge subsided Varlas slumped completely, his head falling down to look at his feet. He openly wept, not for pity, not for leniency but because he had been stripped of his title, his respect, and his honour. Some of the Elders looked at him in revilement as though they saw his current weakness as a pestilence to abhor. His Uncle looked ready to cry but remained stalwart, allowing but a single tear down his wrinkled cheek. Brelor knew that Varlas was innocent but the other Elders were out for blood and though Varlas was his nephew he could not be seen as weak in his position as head of House Caledan.

‘The Daemon Sloreth shouted out your name in thanks as he...Desecrated our Ancestral home!’ shouted one of the Elder’s. The very mention of Sloreth’s name caused the fires within him to blaze anew and he looked at the Accusing Elder with pure rage, if he were not bound in this stock he would have flayed him to his bones for such an insult, he was a true and faithful servant of the Emperor and of House Caledan, he knew that, felt it in his bones, but they did not, they didn’t want to know as far as Varlas could see.
‘I have come to a decision on sentencing’ said Brelor his voice wavering. It was painful for Varlas to hear his Uncle in distress; his voice was usually always strong and wise. Varlas had found comfort in confiding in his Uncle when his father had died, sorrow from that time welled up to join the sorrow he now felt. It was an almost tangible pain in his chest. As the pain and sorrow flowed through him he wished his Uncle would hurry and pronounce a death sentence.
'Death...If you ever return here.’ Brelor said with a faint smile. The other Elder’s turned to him in dismay. 'You aren’t seriously considering letting him go are you.’, ‘you would allow a Heretic to leave, you forget yourself’ Said the Elder that had been slinging all of the accusations, Varlas now recognised him as Severus, a Malcontent in the Leadership of House Caledan.

‘No it is you who forget yourself Severus, I am the head of this Family and you shall follow my decisions for I do not make them lightly.’ Spat Brelor at Severus. Severus seemed to consider his stub pistol before backing down with a glare. ‘That as it may be, but the Tenet’s of the Emperor state that we not allow the Alien, Daemon or the Heretic to live, Am I to Assume that you would join your Nephew in heresy, if so then...’ Severus Stated impudently before Brelor cut him off. 'Then what Severus? And I am not Deaf to the Tenet’s of our beloved Emperor. And I am aware of something you are not.’ Brelor stated Matter-of-factly.

Severus leered at Brelor and some of the other Elder’s shifted uncomfortably whilst the others stared in vulture like fascination. ‘And what is that Pray tell?’ Severus said in a mocking tone. Brelor looked at Varlas as he spoke ‘I am stepping down as head of this family and as I do I am allowed one final request that you must allow and follow.’ Brelor smiled at Varlas as though he was a child again, Brelor had made sacrifices in the past for him but this was by far the most important and also the one with most cost. Severus made to speak, to try to quote some hidden loop or subsection to disallow this massive request but eventually gave up. ‘Fine we shall allow this, as much as a breach as it is. But you Brelor will be stripped of your title and remain in this house as its custodian, we shall leave you behind like the detritus of a forgotten age, whilst we move to the Manor in the Northern Hemisphere.’ Replied Severus, with what sounded like a small amount of respect. Severus was a bureaucrat not a warrior. For him to be politically out maneuvered was unheard of.

Brelor nodded his acknowledgement. The Elder’s all put their consent in the cogitator’s that were inlaid in the lectern’s they were stood at. With a loud click the stocks holding Varlas Prisoner disengaged and he fell to the floor with a thud. Brelor stepped down from his lectern and walked towards Varlas smiling faintly and his eyes looked as though he was wrestling with his inner emotions. ‘Take it easy you were hanging up there for three days.’ Brelor said as he put his hands on Varlas’ shoulders. ‘Varlas looked up at Brelor’s old face; the candles in the dungeon cast his face into stark relief. ‘Thank you’ Varlas managed his voice and mind broken. ‘No need my boy, consider it repayment for all of your years of dutiful service’ Brelor’s smile beamed and his eyes spoke of the love he held for his nephew, but also the sense of loss that was to come.

[Varlas Caledan]

Chapter 4: Goodbye Kelnaris

Varlas stared through the window of his bed chamber; He had just got out of his sweaty clothes he had worn for the three days of his incarceration. He wore a set of black combat pants, brown knee high boots, a blue velvet tunic and his black coat. He stared across the vermillion fields to the west, the crops were turned a purple from the properties in the soil, the leaves of the trees also, and the grass that grew here had been turned back green by the Magus Biologis of the Planetary Governor to resemble the grass of Terra. Somehow His chamber and some of the upper floors escaped damage. Not that Varlas would have to worry about the damage or repair of the house, as on this day before sun set he was to leave his home world behind. A few select belongings of his were being packed on board his Gun Cutter, his weapons, armour and keep sakes from his father, his personal retinue of servitors were also being stowed aboard his gun cutter along with a landspeeder.
Varlas walked down the grand stairs of the house towards the entrance. The stairs were still grand but no longer as resplendent. The pictures that had survived were being packed in Plastik containers by the house servants to be transferred to another Manor owned by the Caledan nobility, Varlas scoffed to himself, the Caledan family owned several manors on this planet, and several on other planets, should the worst befall the planet the manor could be evacuated in short order.
He was sure that the other Elder’s had known he was innocent and just wanted someone to which they could relieve their anger. In fact now he thought of it perhaps Severus wasn’t out maneuvered. He may have been angling for it, with his talents it was very possible. Severus was a magistratum in the courts on Kelnaris it was he and several others who made business on Kelnaris easy; the Caledan’s had always had the Adeptus Arbites in their pocket.

The doors of House Caledan were scorched and blackened so they had been removed and replaced with simple wooden doors. The damage would likely take a decade to repair and his Uncle was made to be custodian over it until its completion. The family had already paid for Juvenat treatments and Bionic Implants to insure he would live to see it finished. As an added punishment that Severus had requested. The Elder council had agreed to keep the status quo.
Brelor stood outside beside the Gun Cutter talking to a Servitor. ‘...and you’re sure that you’ve gained permission from Captain Tideman?’ he asked impatiently, the Servitor gave him a monotone acknowledgement. Brelor turned on his heel to face Varlas as he sensed him approach.
'As much as it pains me Varlas I’m afraid the hour of your departure is nigh, I will miss you my boy’ Brelor said clasping Varlas in a warrior’s grip, wrist to wrist. Brelor looked down to see the Imperial Guard tattoo on his wrist, still as prominent as ever.
'May the Emperor Guide and keep you Varlas Caledan, As you keep true to his will and Tenets so shall you be shielded by the wings of the Aquila, The Emperor Protects. Astra Imperator Gloriam.’ Said Brelor reciting an Ancient Credo used Amongst Daemon Hunters.
‘Emperor be with you also Uncle. Astra Imperator Gloriam’ Replied Varlas. Brelor hugged him tight to him allowing his eyes to close in concentration, Varlas mirrored him. As the barriers between their minds fell all of the memories and emotions of the past few days flashed between them. Good Luck...Thank You...Is He Ready?...Why Now?....We’ll Never Know....Sogor’. Varlas’ eyes flicked open as Brelor brought his psychic walls back up again. ‘Sogor?’ Varlas breathed. Brelor put his finger to his lip. ‘Perhaps in time Nephew, that time is not now’.
Varlas was going to question further but realised he had no right. After all it was his Uncle’s sacrifice that allowed him to still yet live. Instead Varlas just nodded and slowly ascended the Loading ramp of his Gun Cutter as the servitors packed the last of his Belongings. ‘T-Minus 4 minutes to take off master please be seated before we break atmosphere’ came the pilot servitor’s voice over the internal Vox caster.

Brelor looked at Varlas through the view port as he took a seat. “Captain Tideman of the Warp Diver is currently in orbit, I have paid him a large amount to be your conveyance for the next decade and your Vox channel has been given to clients if they require your services” Brelor said psychically. Brelor Turned and walked back to the house as the loading ramp rose and the pilot servitor feathered the engines in preparation for take-off. 'Please secure your seat master we are about to leave Kelnaris.’ the Pilot servitor said over the Vox caster. Varlas put on his flight harness and locked his seat into position so that he was facing the front of the angular craft. The thrusters kicked in and the Gun Cutter quickly and smoothly lifted off of the deck and began rotating to match up with its exit vector.
The main engine fired and the Gun Cutter sped off at break neck speed until it reached terminal velocity. Through the view port Varlas could see the Vermillion fields speed by with wild Grox frolicking and chasing one another. Just another day at home Caledan thought. Home. The word had turned sour in his mouth and his longing to return was unbearable but to do so would be to waste his second chance. He aimed to make good use of it.

Varlas felt his stomach turn slightly as the Gun Cutter sharply pitched its nose upwards. A feat most other craft would find impossible. The setting sun turned the sky a light red but was quickly replaced by the dark void of space, red embers flooded past the viewport like the leaves of the Ashal forest in autumn as the ship broke through the atmosphere.
Varlas said one last goodbye and resolved to focus on his future.
A pict-screen lowered from the ceiling above him to show a live feed from a nose mounted Pict-stealer. Straight ahead of the Gun Cutter was a large vessel, unmistakably Imperial in design except for the one thing he hadn’t expected. It was of the Navis Nobilite.

Several details of the ship flooded onto the screen from the Gun Cutter’s Cogitator:
+Emperor’s Imperial Vessel Warp Diver Relieved from duty at the eye of Terror+
+Registratum 2468495-89065-1+
+Commanding Officer-Lord Admiral Hellbrecht Tideman+
+Crew-Estimated 257 hands exact number unknown+
+Weapons Load-Classified by order of Navis Nobilte+
+Service Record Length-In Excess of Three Centuries+
+Current whereabouts-Unknown+
This was going to be interesting to say the least. Varlas hoped that news of his Excommunication had not been passed along to the Captain; he would hate to find himself sucking Vacuum because of some over-zealous follower of the Imperial Doctrine.

[Varlas Caledan]

Chapter 5: Welcome To The WarpDiver

After the Gun Cutter had docked aboard The Warp Diver Varlas had been immensely surprised at the sheer scale of this vessel. And yet he was still wary as he progressed down the Loading ramp from the Gun Cutter he had opted to don his equipment belt, his pistol on his left hip and his sword on his right. Before he even put a foot on the docking bay deck, servitors were attending to his ship. As Varlas walked into the vastness of the loading bay, he was approached by a young woman. A navy rating by the look of her. Her head was shaved bear and shone in the luminance cast by the glow globes above and her skin was elegant ebony. She wore a stern look upon her face. It was obvious to Varlas in that instant that she was a career woman.
Varlas noticed that the woman looked him up and down appraisingly. She didn’t look very impressed Varlas thought. ‘Lord Caledan I presume?’ she said, her voice stern as her look and clipped like an officer. Varlas bowed his head formally. ‘I am, Though Varlas will suffice’ he smiled to her warmly. ‘Very well follow me sir’ she replied without responding to his gesture.
The smile dropped from Varlas’ face as he realised that she was indeed all business all of the time. The freight elevator went up several decks and stopped to let out several crewmen who stepped out to take Varlas’ belongings to his quarters, only two of them as he brought very little with him.

The elevator continued up to the bridge deck, nothing was said during that time. The naval rating was too stiff and Varlas still too grief stricken to persist in conversation for its own sake. The freight elevator ground to a halt and the doors slid open on well-greased running tracks.
The smell of Incense flooded Varlas’ senses as he walked onto the bridge, the smell conjuring up images of home and the grand hall of the ancestral house, flashes of Ernestus assaulted his mind before he made a mental adjustment and blocked it out.
The bridge was a flurry of movement and activity, Varlas felt a slight crawl under his skin as he sensed another Psyker aboard, quite powerful by the feelings he was getting. The Naval rating that had accompanied him walked towards a tall dais at the centre of the bridge, atop the dais was a large throne with cables that were built in and trailed across the floor of the bridge in a serpentine manner.

The Rating nodded to Varlas to allow him to approach the command deck. The Guards around the command deck switched their rifles to safe and walked in a regimented unity from the bridge to the Freight elevator Varlas had arrived in, one or two spared Varlas a nod which he returned.
Varlas walked over to the command deck careful to avoid standing on any of the snaking cables at his feet. As Varlas rounded the Dais and looked upon the command throne he saw an Elderly man who had been wired into several interfaces. The interfaces enabled the Captain to feel every part of the ship as an extension of himself. His heart beat regulated the ships speed and his neural links managed cogitators on a ship wide scale.
‘Welcome to the Warp Diver young man, I am Captain Tideman, Ex-Admiral of The Terran fleet at the eye of Terror’ said the captain’s old yet strong voice in a formal manner Varlas bowed ‘And I am Varlas Caledan, Daemon Hunter’, ‘tell me Captain I have sensed another Psyker on board may I ask whom that may be?’ Varlas asked delicately unsure of how to proceed.
The old Captain nodded his head as much as his enhancements would allow, ‘Yes that would be the ship’s Astropath, Velena’ the captain replied.

‘An Astropath and a full crew? But the records say that your ship is no longer under Imperial requisition’ said Varlas. ‘This is true Varlas but as I am a distinguished member of the Navis Nobilite they allowed me to keep my crew and Astropath, besides we may yet be called back to the eye, though I doubt it. Also the Crew stayed because they wished it, they are a faithful bunch, and I don’t know what I would do without them.’ said Tideman as he looked around his crew, many of them saluted or bowed. The servitors remained at their stations oblivious to the world around them. ‘Ah i see, forgive me I’m not quite accustomed to naval standards and traditions.’ Replied Varlas a little embarrassed.

Tideman made a small gesture indicating that the naval rating should step forward and introduce herself. ‘My name is Nika Rasa, second in command of the Warp Diver, should you need anything during your stay I will do my best to accommodate you.’ she said once again in a clipped professional tone. In the better lighting Varlas could see her eyes were a steely blue that seemed to dance with the passion of her calling.
‘If you would follow me sir, I’ll escort you to your quarters’ Nika said gesturing towards the freight elevator they had arrived in. ‘Lead the way Ma’am’ Varlas said humbly careful to show respect where respect was due. The last thing he would want was to be on the wrong side of the crew, he most likely wouldn’t be popular when they found out he was a Psyker, but there was little point adding fuel to the fire.

The hallways were wide enough for two people to walk side by side as Varlas and Nika had been. The surfaces were spartanly decorated. Every metre or so Varlas would spot Imperial propaganda and awards of valour most for service in the eye of Terror. The lights that lit the hall were set in ornately fashioned skulls made from ceramite. The light from within the skulls made them look possessed. ‘So how is it that this ship got its name Nika’ Varlas asked wondrously staring down the hall. Nika shot him a stern look not that he seemed to notice, she wasn’t used to being addressed without her title but let it go seeing as though she technically wasn’t an officer any longer. 'The vessel arrived at the Eye having been rushed out of the docks upon its completion and had no official name. But it was the fact that the ship would dive into the warp hole that is the eye of Terror on hit and Run missions that earned it the name Warp Diver.’ Nika finished. A certain amount of pride entering her voice. And why not from serving aboard such a venerable vessel as this. Varlas smiled to himself, Uncle Brelor certainly knew how to pick them.

Nika indicated that they had reached his quarters. His door looked like every other door on this deck. 'Ah uniformity, might i ask you a question Mistress Rasa?’ Varlas said trying to placate her; he had felt her annoyance at him using her first name. ‘Of course sir, what is it?’ she asked happier now that he realised her seniority. ‘May I train with your guards in the training dome?’ Varlas wondered if it would be allowed, Nika seemed to think for a moment. ‘I should think that it would be fine, just one thing sir’ she said, Varlas raised an eyebrow, ‘yes?’. Nika spoke with a wry smile; ‘try not to get hurt sir’ she turned smartly on her heel and walked off briskly. Varlas smiled to himself, Nika suited a smile whether she realised it or not.
Varlas placed his hand upon the gene scanner beside the door and the door opened with a mechanical hiss as it drew back.
Varlas’ quarters were as spartanly decorated as the rest of the ship, within was an ablutions station, a sink, a smartly made bed and a small shrine to the Emperor of Mankind. Varlas knew he would be making a lot of use of the latter.

[Varlas Caledan]

Chapter 6: First Impressions

The training deck was a miasma of activity with crewmen and security staff training with one another. The domed deck was atop the vessel and surrounded with thick adamantium armour plates. All around the room there were smaller training cages, some with men sparring with one another. And some had training drones and servitors which were fighting armed security officers with live weapons. At the far end of the deck there was a section devoted to urban warfare where a prefab construct was split into several zones where men trained, breaching doorways and raiding mock complexes.
Varlas walked towards a large cage where a similarly large man stood wiping down his sweat gleaming muscles with a towel after a sparring match with a combat servitor. The servitor in question was lay on the floor with its arms pulled from its sockets, its cranium was cracked and its neck lulled as though broken. Several Enginseers stood around it loading body parts into a trolley; they looked at the man shaking their heads disappointedly, but not in anger which told Varlas that this was a regular thing. The man was obviously as dangerous as he was strong, and there for a perfect partner.
'Excuse me sir that was an extraordinary display, might I ask you your name?’ Varlas said stepping into the cage, careful to keep his eyes on the huge bulk of the man, the man looked Varlas up and down. Varlas himself was of a light to medium build, his muscles were unassumingly lean. The man grunted and wiped his face. He was around six foot, with brown cropped hair, his eyes were grey and wild, his face was like that of a craggy cliff face, pock marks molested his features and a scar ran from his brow to his jaw that sutured the flesh between.
‘Most just call me Ox’ He spoke in a gruff voice that sounded like it was growled from the cavernous pit of his stomach. ‘I can see why they call you Ox’ replied Varlas curtly ‘I’m in need of a training partner and I’d like you to be it’. Ox looked at him again searching his face for any sign he was being mocked, upon finding no trace the big man smiled and patted Varlas on the shoulder.

‘Aye, I think I can oblige you, and I’ll try not to hurt you’ Ox smiled broadly. The cage doors cycled around and locked shut as the match began. Ox walked around the combat circle and Varlas mirrored his movements. Ox was quick paced for a man of such brute force. Varlas was nimble and cat like. He walked calmly as though walking along a beach instead of a dangerous combat arena.
Around the cage people had begun gathering, a few at first but as word spread more had joined them and quickly their numbers swelled to perhaps two hundred crewmen. At the forefront stood Nika, she looked as though she was ready to call the match off when she saw who Varlas was fighting, Commander Argus ‘Ox’ Karellian of ship security. As much as she worried for Varlas she also felt a morbid fascination to see how this fight would turn out.

Ox extended his meaty fingers and gestured for Varlas to make the first move, Varlas’ face was suddenly resolved and different, this was a side to Varlas she had not seen when she met him, his eyes had been soft and lordly. But now they were like those of an animal. Ox didn’t seem to notice, not that he was that sharp thought Nika to herself.
Varlas feinted left and then deftly dived to the right catching Ox in the kidney, his lean knuckles sending sparks of pain into the big man’s flank, though he showed little signs of the pain. Before Varlas could even touch the training mat Ox had grabbed Varlas about the waste and threw him into the adjacent cage wall, Varlas hit the grated cage side and was winded; a great cheer went up from the crowd as they cheered for their Commander.
Varlas didn’t have time to recover as Ox brought his cerulean fist up in an uppercut that Varlas had just managed to avoid by the skin of his teeth.
Varlas tried to dive around Ox but the big man caught him by his collar, Ox ran him towards the cage wall. Varlas deftly turned this to his advantage. He ran up the cage wall and as he brought his feet round he landed on Ox’s shoulders, flipping back Varlas pulled Ox over him. Ox flew into the opposite wall and Varlas flipped over in a reverse handspring. The people around the cage were aghast with shock. Varlas a thin man had thrown someone at least twice his weight across the training cage. Ox shakily stood up, more in shock than pain, he hadn’t been thrown like that since he was a child and his father had thrown him into tepid lake.
A crew member stood beside the cage handed a large object to Ox. Varlas hadn’t noticed as he was too busy making good use of his respite to catch his breath. Ox grinned to the nameless crewman, this was dirty he knew, but he was fighting for the crews honour. Ox turned with an animal grin holding a heavy training weight. Varlas immediately saw the heavy object. ‘Frag it’ He said aloud, some of the crew on the front row grin with barely contained malice, ‘damn navy boys’ Varlas breathed again, ‘Fine you use your rules and I’ll use mine’ Varlas smiled, a blue glint shining from his eyes. ‘Oh Frag’ said Ox this time. He wasn’t all that sharp but he knew a psyker when he saw one.
Regardless the giant rushed forwards swinging the heavy weight like a primate with a rock. Varlas just stood there; the weight came within centimetres of his face and then stopped as though it had hit a wall. Ox stumbled back he clutched his arm that held the weight as he held it up again the weight crumbled to dust. Ox stood gaping at the hollow bar he held in his hand. Still he tried again and Varlas had a lot of respect for him. He was either very brave or just very stupid, the latter was most likely.

Varlas side stepped Ox’s swipe. When Ox connected his hit with the bars of the cage he shouted in pain as his bare hand struck them. Varlas now held the bar to the back of Ox’s head in an execution position. ‘Yield’ it wasn’t a question but a command. Ox knelt down ‘I concede defeat’ His voice was still gruff but also proud, he had cheated and Varlas had levelled the playing field with minimum show of force. Varlas proffered his hand to the Commander which he took in a strong grip; Varlas dispelled the blue spark from his eyes. Ox stood and gripped Varlas’ wrist tight in the warrior grip and laughed raucously.
Nika and several in the crowd joined in. Ox held Varlas arm in the air like a boxing champ and Varlas felt a hot flush go through him as he remembered the crew and Nika had been watching. Varlas looked at Nika, she was smiling but only just, Varlas thought that she may be a bit sour of his victory but also happy of it.
Nika handed Varlas a towel and started to speak at once, 'Sir that was rather rash and though no harm came to you it could have happened very differently. Though I am pleased that you weren’t hurt or worse’. Varlas smiled, perhaps she wasn’t so stiff at all, and maybe she wasn’t all work and no play. ‘...Or else I would have had a lot of paper work to fill out, Goodnight sir’ She walked off. Varlas smiled to himself. Perhaps she was all work.
For the next few months Varlas continued to work alongside the crew and took on the occasional contract though at first it was difficult as news of his Excommunication had spread to some of the clients. But in the 7th month Varlas was called to a pickup location by an anonymous client, a protection detail the job sheet said. We re-join Varlas en route to the pickup zone Pre-Warp Translation.

[Varlas Caledan]

Chapter 7: Ordo Malleus

Varlas sat in his quarters, he hadn’t long been back. In the lower decks Varlas, Ox and his men from security had been training together, hand to hand, blade and firearms, this happened every three days. Varlas was a little tired but after so much practice his endurance was much higher, he was however out of practice with his psychic abilities.
The deck rumbled with the thrum of the real-space drive in the Enginarium. Varlas stood beside a fold out table polishing his weapons and laying them out in order of size.
In front of his were several snub-nosed pistols, a Hecuter 4 compact, a laser pistol and lasrifle. A warning klaxon sounded and a coarse synthetic voice came over the Vox casters all over the ship. ‘30 seconds to Warp Translation, please secure all loose objects before translation’, Varlas recognised it as one of the helm servitors. He took a seat on his bed and used a psy-nudge to hold his weapons on the table.
He could feel the thrum of the real-space engines fade away only to be replaced by a rapid vibration being generated by the Warp engines. All across the ship, crew members secured loose objects and bulkheads and void shields flickered to life around the ship along with armour plates descending over weapon ports and view ports. ‘5....4....3...2...1, now making translation’, the ship lurched as the warp engines allowed the ship to pierce the fabric of reality and flow into the warp. Varlas hated being so close to all of that raw power separated only by an energy field and sheets of Adamantium.

The voices seeped in through the walls, on the over side of the bulkhead Varlas could hear inhuman howls, promises of power and....no it couldn’t be....claws scraping the hull, somewhere on the lower decks. Not one to take chances where Daemons could be involved Varlas picked up his psychic blade and his compact Hecuter 4, he attached both to mag-holsters on either hip. Varlas donned his knee boots and short black leather jacket and rushed out of the door not bothering to lock it behind him.
On the bridge the noises were mostly ignored by the bridge crew, Nika Rasa however felt a strange sensation at the back of her neck, a sort of dull ache followed by an uncomfortable shiver. Captain Tideman noticed his second in command was uncomfortable and tried to think of a distraction for her, some time off of the bridge would do her some good, whether she agreed or not. Of course she would obey as she had always done; she was a career woman, her dark skin and steel eyes exotic even to an aged spacer such as him. He would miss her when she was in command of her own ship, he would deeply miss her.
She had always been by his side. Well not always but it had felt that way. ‘Miss Rasa i require you to fulfil a duty for me my dear’ He rasped, his throat was dry. ‘Yes sir? What can I do for you?’ she asked standing smartly as she addressed the captain.
‘Go and check on Master Caledan would you, as a Psyker I’m sure he may be under some stress during the transition as receptive as he is’ Tideman replied. Nika looked as though she were about to decline but as her usual dutiful self she nodded and crisply saluted before leaving the bridge. ‘Master Caledan what is your current location? Nika asked over her personal Vox.
‘Ah Mistress Rasa I’m heading down to the Amidships section, how can I be of assistance?’ Varlas replied his voice was strange, he must have been running Nika summarised. ‘Captain Tideman sent me to see if you were alright’ said Nika, ‘might I ask why you are heading to the Amidships?’ she added as an afterthought. ‘I have a feeling; I thought I heard scratching from the lower decks, like claws’ Replied Varlas Nika’s breath caught in her throat. Should she advise the captain?...No after all Varlas could turn out to be wrong he was only human. ‘I’ll be converging on your location in two minutes’ she Voxed as she hurried her pace.

In the Amidships section the usual quiet had settled upon the ship, but somewhere in the background there was a ripping noise. Crewman Marten walked the deck; no-one else was on this deck. And yet there was a noise, a tearing gnashing sound mixed with a scream/gurgle. Marten crept along; he held a wrench in his hand. He had been working on a valve segment link to the Enginarium coolant system. The feel of the wrench felt as reassuring as a lump of jelly. The recyc-units quivered with cool air.
Lights began to shiver and flicker. Crewman Marten halted in his tracks as he felt something watching him from behind. He turned slowly, the flickering deck lights picked out a pinkish foetid hole in the bulkhead. Small tentacles explored the edges of the hole. It looked like a fresh open wound with knat-worms crawling within.
As though Marten’s gaze irritated the hole in the wall it began to convulse with inhuman movements. From the warp-spawned-wound came a myriad of small, wet, foul smelling creatures. Screaming with the pain of being born into the material world. Claws. Teeth. Horns. Claws and putrid smelling fluids all flowed across the deck as they merged to create Daemonic visages, from the centre of which grew forth a large Daemon, green and sickly with huge red eyes, the slit-like pupils seemed to pierce Martens soul.
The Daemon lunged forward with near impossible speed for its size. Slavering at the mouth with an asymmetrical smile. Crewman Marten cried out in sheer horror before the Daemon’s bio-viruses ate through him to the bones which the Daemon crunched to pieces as though they were made from chalk. The Daemon licked up the liquefied Marten soup with savage glee. Sloreth had come a very long way and this would be his first meal of the many to follow. With a slow slinking movement Sloreth-who dominated the width of the corridor-moved down the deck with ravaging hunger, the smaller Daemons followed gradually as they fought over the dripping remains Sloreth had left in his wake.

Nika stopped in her tracks as she heard a shrill scream followed by a resounding crunch. All along the corridor, hissing and the sound of snapping maw’s ricocheting down the corridor. Nika felt a very real. Very icy shiver of fear run down her spine. Her eyes flew wide as she saw a hulking mass move its way down the darkened corridor before her, small eyes around the mass caught the light and made her skin crawl. 'Identify yourself, In the name of the Captain Identify yourself’ she called. Her voice was shrill and devoid of authority. This in itself was more alien than the mysterious mass that shuffled towards her.
A scream caught in her throat as she caught sight of the Daemon Sloreth. Deformed cavities seemed to heave laboriously. 'You smell delicious’ Sloreth gurgled hungrily 'I can smell the bastard on you, he smells weak, hardly any sport, but better than nothing’ He continued. Nika couldn’t tell if the Daemon was talking to her or himself, though she had already turned to run.
Nika was pulled back with bone jarring force and found herself in the slimy grip of one of the Daemon’s emaciated claws; the claws were strangely out of proportion with its body. Sloreth Drooled madly savouring Nika’s scent before closing his eyes and biting down.

Sloreth screamed out in pain as his fang serrated teeth bit into his own claw, and then he realised a pain in his claw like fingers. As Sloreth opened his blood red eyes and saw his yellowed pungent blood flowing from the stumps that had once been his claws, he looked up the corridor to see the woman being protected by an Enginseer, the saw blade on his servo harness dripping with ichor. Sloreth roared out in sheer anger at being cheated of his prize.
Nika Hadn’t even seen Enginseer Aestaban intervene. She opened her eyes expecting to see teeth; instead she found the Enginseer stood in front of her with a plasma pistol aimed squarely at the Daemon. Even at a glance Nika could see the pistol would not be anywhere near enough fire power.
The flesh around Sloreth’s claw stumps began to bubble and reform the lost claws. His red eyes equalled that of the Enginseer’s augmetic eye. Sloreth staggered forward, near blind with fury beyond the understanding of a human mind. Aestaban brought his machendrites and servo arms around in a defensive stance. One servo arm was a powered claw with an inbuilt flamer unit, another was the saw that had cut the Daemon’s claws off, and it still dripped with ichor. The other Servo arm was a drill and plasma welder. Sloreth growled as he closed with the two morsels he was about to pulp and devour, so angry was he that he trod on the smaller creatures below his feet with blatant disregard.
Slinging its head back and then whipping it forward the Daemon launched a disgusting gout of burning vomit at the two, Aestaban turned it to vapour with his flamer unit, the pillar of flame continued on towards the Daemon, turning its skin black and blanketing its skin with broiling flame clinging to its bubbling flesh.
Whilst the beast was blinded Aestaban dragged Nika down the corridor firing a burning purple plasma shot at the creature’s stomach, his Augmetic eye ensured it would hit. A miss would buckle a bulkhead as the weapon was charged to full instead of the usual one quarter standard, that standard would do little damage.
The pistol’s plasma coil overheated and Aestaban was forced to drop it on the deck. Nika was pushed further down the corridor by the Enginseer. Her legs wanted to give way, she wanted to pray to the Emperor for protection but her survival instinct was pushing her onwards. Aestaban turned around to see the smaller Daemon’s turn the corner of the adjoining corridor they had just escaped from. His internal cogitation bank estimated they would catch up in little more than seven seconds. Aestaban ran into Nika’s still body and quickly turned to see why. In front of Nika stood Varlas, his Hecuter drawn and pointed down the swarmed corridor.

Varlas pushed Nika and the Enginseer past him and fired off four expert shots that struck the smaller Daemon’s with enough force to send their bulbously disgusting bodies across the polished floor. They screeched and a slopped as they impacted the far bulkhead. Sloreth’s claw came around the corridor dragging his bulk into view. His eyes flickered with glee as he saw Varlas standing defiant. Varlas quickly reinforced his mental barriers; he remembered how his momentary lapse had doomed house Caledan. A violent chill filled him. ‘I told you I would find and devour you’ Sloreth grinned. Varlas returned the grin, and a puzzled look adorned Sloreth’s blackened features. ‘Devour this’ Varlas smiled as he fired a single round from his Hecuter at the glowing plasma pistol that sat at Sloreth’s feet. The blast knocked Varlas, Aestaban and Nika onto their backs. Sloreth itself was little more than a pile of guts and effluents. Green goo, blackened vile flesh and brownish innards were strewn across the deck.
As Varlas picked himself up he could hear screams coming from other decks, above and below. His two companions looked at him with worry as they quickly rose to their feet. Captain Tideman sat in his throne. Wearily he sifted through ship data via his mental cogitation link. As he crept through stacks of data. Ship manifests. Crew rosters. Stellar Cartography. Ship Status. He was interrupted by a servitor. Before it could speak in its scratchy synthetic voice the breach alarms rang out madly. ‘Report’ Tideman barked. ‘Void shields have dropped on Decks seven through twelve, Warp signatures are entering the ship master’ the servitor told him flatly. Tideman had to think fast, he didn’t want his venerable vessel to be destroyed, the welfare of the crew plagued him, and then he thought of Nika. She hadn’t reported back for over 30 minutes, strange, he thought she would have by now. Instantly he imagined the worst. Seeing her dead, or voided in vacuum. He snapped his attention to the current situation, he was a Ship Master. All of his crew meant a lot to him.

‘All hands this is the Captain.’ Tideman said over the ship wide Vox. ‘Prepare to repel borders. The void shields around amidships have failed. We will therefore be making an emergency exit from Warp space. Emperor be with us all.’ he flicked the Vox off and began bellowing orders at adjutants and servitors who quickly and professionally went about their allotted tasks.
The Enginarium gangs began shutting down the warp engines as the gang leaders directed them, they then diverted power to the real-space engines in preparation for standard conveyance.
Ox and his men were busy holding back a mob of vile daemon’s that were strewn across the decking, Ox and his men were struggling, behind them crewman scurried and screamed as they evacuated the amidships area. All other bulkheads in the affected area had closed to keep out the warp tide. The Warp Diver suddenly reappeared in real space, behind it trailed plumes of plasma from ruptured conduits and sub Enginarium decks. The Void shields stuttered and faltered before overloading.
The Bridge of the Warp Diver was a maelstrom of activity, fire burned where several servitors had been seated. Their bodies burned leaving nothing but bones and mechanisms, like some alien scavenger had picked their bones clean. Cogitators on the lowered helm deck spat sparks as the machine spirits within rebelled against the warp taint that attempted to infect its system. The hololithic table was damaged and flickering, barely active.
Crewman Hicks that manned the hololithic chart table called out to the Captain. ‘Captain I have another ship closing on our position, dead ahead forty thousand miles and closing. No Ident being broadcast and not responding to hails.’ Hicks shouted. ‘They are charging weapons Captain, Sensorium sweeps indicate smaller craft are on collision course with us sir, Orders?’ added Crewman Harath from the helm. Tideman’s Cogitator units in his throne quickly decided the best course of action. ‘Bring us about to broadside and tell the crew to brace for impact’ His face grim as he realised as damaged as his ship was they were done for. ‘Sir the ships on collision appear to be Caestus Assault rams, Adeptus Astartes pattern confirmed’ Harath reported as he pulled the ship into broadside position.
Captain Tideman’s blood ran cold as he realised the implications, the Emperor’s own Angels of Death were assaulting his beloved ship. No hails. No reason. No remorse. The Caestus transports were nimble if non aerodynamic craft. Their rear wings heavily armoured and dipped low. The front of the vessel extended into two pronged sections that-when the transport collided with its target-would disgorge its cargo into the enemy ship. The ship’s dodged incoming fire from the Warp Diver’s close in defence turrets.
The Caestus transports fired off breaching charges at sections of the ship that housed power cores for the close in defences, the servitors continued to target and fire regardless of the lack of power until the weapons choked and halted. ‘Captain the enemy has fired and the boarding craft are closing’ reported Harath as he struggled to manoeuvre the ship away. Captain Tideman disconnected his servo harness and data plugs that secured him to the seat.
His hydraulic assisted legs carried him down the steps of his dais to the command deck, adamant that he would spend his last moments of existence on his feet as the warrior that he was.
The crewman gasped as they saw their captain descend the steps, he had-as far as they knew-always been connected to the command throne. Harath seemed to recover quickly and confirmed what Tideman already knew. ‘Captain the missile salvo is heading for the bridge.’ he said aloud. Frightened cries went up as crewman began scrambling to the elevator. ‘Return to your posts’ Tideman blared. Crewman froze in their tracks, feeling the Captain’s eye burning into their skulls; all felt honour bound to him and also guilty at their current display.
One by one they returned to their stations. ‘Thank you. All of you. I know your fear for i feel it also. But we are still servants of the Emperor and will not shy away from our tasks; The Emperor has ordained our work is done. It may not be honourable but it is his will. His Angels of Death have shown it to be so. So stand fast and Goodbye.’ Tideman said. A tear rolling down his cheek.
The missiles impacted the bridge. Armaglass and sheets of adamantium were broken and shattered inward and then sucked out into the void followed by bodies of the crew, flames sparks and Tideman’s remains. He had been stood by the observation window when the missiles had hit. His body had been flayed and decimated; he had died before the biting cold of the void could claim him.
The Warp Diver seemed to groan and wail in mourning as the bridge section completely came apart, all that remained was the command throne that was completely inbuilt to the armoured deck. Lights on its cogitators began to flicker and die as Tideman’s command signal was lost. Its golden carvings and hard wood arm rests crusted with ash, blood and ice became like a headstone.
Amongst all of this death and carnage the boarding craft were beginning to collide with and pierce the ship’s hull. Varlas dragged Aestaban and Nika along the corridor as a massive vibration ran through the deck. A Caestus impacted through the passage they had just emerged from, the boarding craft then air sealed the area around it to stop it from decompressing. The bulkhead in front of the trio exploded in a mess of adamantium and circuitry, a nearby servitor that had powered down was crushed beneath the weight of the boarding craft. The two hatches on the craft behind them banged open and Varlas’ breath caught in his throat at the sight he was now presented with.
The Terminators stood in formation in the corridor, they seemed to dance and shimmer, Varlas couldn’t focus on them, all of them were Psyker of phenomenal power. Their terminator armour was bright silver, with a slight blue edging; gold texts were inlaid in armour plates across their suits. On the shoulders of each space marine was a symbol of a book impaled by a sword. Varlas didn’t recognise them from the chapters he had studied. They all bore halberd’s that crackled with energy and storm bolters on their wrists.
The other boarding craft hatches banged open; one disgorged more of the mysterious Space Marines that charged down an adjacent corridor. The other hatch revealed a troupe of people, five by Varlas’ count. Varlas felt a quiver of activity from behind him; the Space Marines had fired their bolters in short burst at Varlas and his companions. Varlas dashed out and quickly sliced his blade in desperation cutting the bolt shells to bits before they could reach Nika and Aestaban. The space marine at the head of the group seemed to nod in respect. Varlas walked back towards Nika and Aestaban keeping his guard up the whole time. The presence of so many Psyker nearby was starting to wear Varlas out; he was beginning to perspire and wiped beads of sweat from his head. Varlas looked at the group on the other side of them. The first was a large malformed man-which Varlas recognised as an Ogryn- wearing camo-fatigues and a vest, he carried a snub cannon like it was a rifle.
The second was a slender man with black hair tied back and a matching black goatee. He wore a green felt suit with a brown storm coat that was inlaid with gold stitching around the cuffs and collar. The third was a woman with blonde hair pulled back tight; she had green eyes that were piercing. She wore a purple Bodyglove with knives attached to a leather bodice. The fourth was also a bodygloved woman who wore a black leather storm coat.
She was taller and not as slender but still well built. Her hair was raven black; she wore black eye make-up and lipstick. Her Bodyglove was black also, even her demeanour was dark. Despite the situation Varlas found her very attractive. The fifth member of the group was a man in his late fifties, though it was obvious he had been subjected to Juvenat treatments. His eyes were hooded and sharp. He wore a set of armour that was black and gold and Varlas was taken aback when he saw what was on the breastplate of the armour. A large ‘I’ symbol that had a skull inlaid. The symbol of the Emperor’s holy Inquisition.
The Inquisitor seemed to smile as he saw Varlas studying his symbol of office. A faint glint flickered past his eyes. Another Psyker. ‘In the name of the holy Inquisition of Terra I am here to cleanse this vessel and its occupants’. The Inquisitor said, his voice was like honey.
At an invisible signal given by the Inquisitor, his Psyker-the woman in black-and the Space Marines fired at the group again, the Psyker with pure white bolts of lightning and the Space Marines with their bolters. Nika screamed out and the very sound of it struck a chord within Varlas. His very desperation caused him to absorb the loose Psy-energy around him-that was being exuded by the many Psykers-and formed a dome of psychic energy around them. The lightning hit the dome and caused ripples across its surface but did not break through. The bolt shells-forty in all-stopped in mid-air and Varlas rapidly de-constructed them to their base components.
Varlas’ eyes were shining with bright white light. He seemed to wince as the glow globes around them shattered. The Inquisitor’s Psyker was about to launch another psychic assault when her master grabbed her wrist and shook his head. ‘This young man is far too powerful, if you persist Anna he will absorb your power and quite possibly destroy this ship or become possessed’ he said slowly as if foreseeing the event.
Anna Harlin lowered her outstretched hand and reined in her power. Varlas was beginning to bleed from his eyes, mouth and nostrils. He was swaying under the pressure of maintaining the barrier and looked fit to collapse. ‘Marlo, the ‘Blunt’ round if you would’ The Inquisitor said indicating the man in the felt suit. Marlo Thanius nodded and un-holstered a custom pistol from his waist and racked the slide.
He raised the large barrelled weapon and held it in a firm two handed grip. The weapon bucked wildly like a bull as it fired causing Marlo to stagger back slightly. The ‘Blunt’ round was a large calibre round that had a syringe inside. The contents of which was a Psyionic blocker fluid that would render a Psyker inert for several hours stripping them of their powers. The round struggled to penetrate the barrier but managed as the Inquisitor focused a driving psy-force behind the spinning round. It screeched as though piercing a tank hide and separated allowing a dart to hit Varlas square in the chest.
Varlas fell but before he could hit the floor the woman in the purple Bodyglove caught him. As Varlas passed out from fatigue he could hear Nika cry out 'leave him alone!’ her voice was shrill and echoed out inside his mind like it was a cave devoid of shape.

[Varlas Caledan]

Chapter 8: Initiation

Varlas head felt as though he had hit it repeatedly against a rockcrete wall. His eyes pulsed with pain as he tried to open them. He felt somehow numb, struggling to realise what it was. After flexing muscles and checking neural impulses he realised what it was. He couldn’t feel his Psychic powers, had they abandoned him?. He felt a sudden rush of fear at the prospect, he felt naked and defenceless without his mental abilities. ‘He’s awake’ said a feminine voice. It was warm and sounded sincere; they Varlas didn’t recognise the voice.
‘Ah good, thank you Karla’ replied an older male voice, the same honey laced accent he had heard before. He now struggled to remember where he had heard it, and at that how he had come to be here. Not that he knew where he was. His eyes refused to open as though held in place. ‘Karla would you mind removing the gauss strips from our friend’s eyes?’ The man asked ‘Yes sir’ Karla replied cheerily.
As the gauss was removed from his eyes the light around him turned the inside of his eye lids a light orange-brown, he screwed his eyes shut in response. ‘I need you to open your eyes young man’ said the male voice, Varlas didn’t want to but he found the man’s voice irresistible. Slowly he opened his eyes. Daggers of pain speared his retinas but an intravenous drip in his arm quickly pumped pain balms into his blood stream culling the pain before it became crippling.

'There we are’ said the man. 'He has really nice eyes, kind of funny shaped but nice all the same’ said Karla. Karla Bon was the first person that Varlas’ eye settled upon. As his eyes became accustomed to the light he saw her properly. She still wore her purple Bodyglove. Her green eyes took in his face, her lips pursed in a smile. Her blonde hair was now resting in a loose ponytail instead of the tight style she had worn before. As Varlas looked upon her face memories flooded back to him from aboard the Warp Diver. Varlas sat up fast and winced as pain shot across his chest regardless of the pain balms. 'Where is Mistress Rasa?’ he asked
The Inquisitor came into view as he began speaking. 'She is fine, in fact for the past several days you have been unconscious I have had her assisting our ship master on the bridge. The Inquisitor’s voice was reassuring. Varlas scanned his face for any dishonesty and satisfied he could find none relaxed his posture allowing some of the pain to bleed away. ‘What is your name young man?’ asked the Inquisitor. Varlas thought for a second, he couldn’t quite remember. ‘I would ask your name first’ He replied as he struggled to remember.
A wry grin crossed the Inquisitor’s face. ‘An Inquisitive mind. I can respect that. Very well I am Augustus Constantin of the Emperor’s Holy Inquisition and this is my team’ Constantin said as he swept his hand in gesture at the others gathered in the room. Varlas gave them a curt nod and a half smile a full smile would hurt too much. ‘I am Varlas Caledan of House Caledan of Kelnaris.’ Varlas replied as he remembered. Constantin chuckled, ‘I already knew Varlas, to be honest i just wanted to see if you would tell me the truth.
Varlas thought he would be offended by the inquisitor’s mind game but indeed he was somewhat impressed. Even when seeming sincere Constantin was always probing for deceit and heresy. ‘You are aboard my ship the Righteous Fury in the Medicae centre.’ Constantin said looking at a chart that had been attached to the end of Varlas’ cot. ‘It says here that you should be fine by tomorrow, you heal fast. Although we did find something strange in your DNA analysis. I’d like to discuss it with you tomorrow after Karla puts you through some physical aptitude tests.’ Constantin said. Varlas’ blood ran cold as he realised that the inquisitor knew of his heritage and what it might mean for his future.
The next day, ship time. Varlas rose from his bed shakily, the curtain around his bed was drawn shut obscuring his sight of the rest of the Medicae bay. The air was cold, stuffy and recycled. At the end of his bed he found his clothes folded neatly. The scars of battle were still visible but they were still wearable. Varlas stood slowly careful not to over stretch himself. He was half dressed when he felt eyes on him somehow Karla had come in through the curtain without him noticing