[King Ulrik Flamebeard]

Edited version of the first part and added second section.


*****
Chaplain Daceus raised a hand to his eyes, the glaring light penetrated the sun filters built into his ancient suit of power armour. The light of the twin suns at their zenith was immense, without the protective armour he figured he would be baked alive by the seering heat. A harsh breeze whipped up the sands into a wave, which crashed upon the thirty marines like the ocean's tide.

“There Chaplain, that rock formation. The auspex indicates that this wind will turn into a storm", the tinny voice of Brother Simoen crackled over the vox. Daceus looked up at the blazing suns once more then out across the desert. The heat made the air shimmer with its ferocity. Above him the glaring sun beat down reducing visibility; even the space marines sight was impaired.

“Agreed. All squads, make for the cover of the rocks. We shall have to wait it out.� He did not need to wait for affirmation as the squads trudged through the soft sand. The structure they had just entered was a section of natural rock - centuries of sand storms and the beating sun had turned them into a glass like housing. The rocks were still the colour of the sand they had been formed from, but the inside was darker; as if the years and the light failed to touch it. The roof stretched well over the size of two marines, Daceus mussed that a dreadnought could easily stand there and not touch the top. Tunnels dove into the complex, each one different; some twisting one way and another, whilst some were dead straight. Here they provided a relatively safe shelter from the perils of the storms that ravaged the area. The marines spread out, bolters at the ready as their training took over, and they effectively checked the 'complex' over. It was empty. The sentries were set, and the rest of the small party put themselves into half sleep. As the half sleep swept over him, Chaplain Daceus' mind slipped back to the beginnings of the mission.

Daceus knelt in prayer before a statue of the Immortal Emperor, the blessed crozium of his office stood before him; the aquilla head of the item reflected the burnished glow from his object of prayer. His skull-faced helmet lay beside him; he saw it fit to show his true face to his god. He was armoured the typical Black Templar way, scriptures of the holy Emperor adorning his armour's blessed surface. The white emblem of his chapter lay upon the left shoulder, this was also covered in the litanies of the Imperial Creed. His right shoulder bore a skull upon its surface; his name and the holy name of the Emperor ran above and below it upon scrolls.

The words of the holy Emperor and also those of his Primarch rolled across pieces of parchment dangling from his waist. He was a walking icon of the Emperor's words; litanies of hate lined his bolt pistol; litanies of strength and courage rolled across his chest and arm. A book from where the words came swung from his armour. His calm mind was quickly alert to the sound of boots in the empty chapel , but they stopped at a respective distance as to allowed the holy brother to finish his prayers to the God-Emperor.

Rising, Daceus placed the skull helm upon his head and turned to the intruder - a Neophyte waited with his head bowed. Daceus looked upon the Neophyte, a new recruit of the Chapter; each one given to serve and learn from a full brother of the Black Templars. They are taught all they will need to know whether it be from the Chapters history or the correct chants to appease the machine spirit within the weapons and armour. They also served the brothers as pages in Chapter ceremonies and at the great feasts held, each one seeing to his overseer's needs. This Neophyte was bound to Brother Arourn, the icons on the Neophyte's armour matching that of his master's.

“What is it?�

“The Captain respectively requests your presence upon the command bridge, M'lord�. The trainee space marine could not keep the stuttering from his voice as he addressed the skull headed Priest. Daceus' office inspired awe and fear into the hearts of the marines he fought alongside, it brought dread and fear to those who opposed the Emperor's wisdom.

“I shall be there shortly. Inform the Captain I must speak with the Apothecaries.� the Neophyte's head bobbed as he understood his command and quietly slipped away. Daceus watched the young man leave the chapel, his mind wondered to why the Captain would request him. As his last act before leaving the small enclosure of worship he faced the statue of the Emperor once more and made the sign of the aquilla. Turning sharply upon his heel he headed towards the infirmary. Daceus walked the long corridors of the 'Light Of Justice', the ship had served his Chapter for a long time. Even now as he walked the steel floors servitors, deep crimsoned hooded priests of the machine god and ensigns scurried about fine tuning, fixing or appeasing the ancient spirit that was housed in the adamantine shell.

He admired stain glassed windows depicting great victories in the name of the Emperor, in one he saw himself stood atop a pile of the xeno Eldar. This – the most recent of the battle scenes– brought back memories of the fight, but more so because of the bionic implant he had fitted in his chest after one of the screaming *****es almost gutted him with a twin bladed halberd. That was just before he exploded her fragile head with a hail of bolt pistol rounds. He was almost startled when the twin doors of the infirmary loomed before him, the winged double helix clearly picked out against the dark surface in white. Taking a deep breath he pushed open the doors.

The smell of cleansed equipment and sterile air smacked Daceus fully in the face, this place always made him uneasy. At his entrance the white armoured marine looked up from his work, his helmet was removed and Daceus could clearly see his face. Brother Vilnas had leathery skin, he had the look of a wizened old man despite the fact he was one of the younger marines on board. His pale green eyes had a near penetrating look, as if just by viewing his patient he could see the problem.

“Take a seat Chaplain, I'll be with you in a moment�, the apothecary sounded almost cheerful as he gave orders to the priest whilst returning to his own work. Daceus watched with a morbid curiosity. Upon the table lay a marine with a good part of his chest missing, an erratic bleeping told Daceus the marines vitals were not quite stable. Vilnas worked hard on the Templar's battered body, bloodied tools lay beside him in an attempt to keep the brother in the service of the Emperor. But ultimately he failed. The twin hearts of the wounded man quickly doubled in pace, then trebled until they finally gave in. Even the enhanced body of a space marine could not handle such stress, he had served well and now stood with the Emperor. Daceus said a short prayer and looked at Vilnas, the apothecary was instructing his staff to remove the precious gene-seed and prepare the body for his funeral.

“Now, Chaplain. Let's look at you". Vilnas indicated for Daceus to step behind a machine. Beside Vilnas an adept of the Machine God stood mumbling words and wafting a foul incense about to appease the machine spirit. An image flicked upon a holoscreen, Daceus' body was shown with the armour and flesh stripped away; streams of information that he failed to understand rolled up the screen. He turned to the apothecary:

“Well?�

“All seems fine my friend. Your implant is fully functional and has integrated itself into your body without any problems; it is working at full capacity. I'd say you are now fully combat fit once more.�

“Great!�, with this Daceus was out the machine and halfway through the doors before Vilnas spoke;

“Come and see me if there is any-� the shutting of the double doors cut off the healers last words. Daceus shot off towards the command deck, meanwhile Vilnas turned back to his staff and with a sigh he began the preparation of the lost marine.





KU