Blackshields: The Red Fief by Josh Reynolds

Blackshields: The Red Fief by Josh Reynolds

Author:Josh Reynolds
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-08-03T00:00:00+00:00


The corridors of the gene-forge had seen better centuries. Mold crept out of every corner, spreading damp black patches along rust-streaked walls. As they moved deeper into the facility, Haar’s auto-senses registered increasing levels of toxicity in the air. Those few mortals he saw we are all wearing rebreathers.

Kalibos: ‘In a few years this sea will reclaim this place.’

Endryd Haar: ‘I am surprised it hasn’t already (laughing).’

Kalibos: ‘No worse than some places we have been stationed. Remember Korsa, ah? The asteroid emplacements?’

Endryd Haar: ‘I remember the environmental controls not functioning.’

Kalibos: ‘Ahahaha, at least we can breathe here.’

Kalibos had been rambling for some time. He was starved for conversation with an equal. Haar felt a flicker of something that might have been pity for the Apothecary. Some warriors sought solitude, others had it thrust upon them. Not all of them took to it well. As they talked Haar watched as Fozar and Tarmas went about securing the outer nodes by the encrypted optical feeds slaved to his helmet display. The static-laden images crowded the edges of his vision not quite distracting him.

Kalibos: ‘Did you know that Kharn is it the korino? That sentimental fool is Angron’s closest advisor. Is it any wonder we are now at war with half a galaxy?’

Endryd Haar: ‘He never liked you very much, did he?’

Haar felt the echo of las bolts impacting against Fozar’s battle plate. The former Iron Warrior’s roar thrummed through Haar’s ears as he swung his weapon about and returned fire.

Kalibos: ‘It was mutual. He sees meaning in a mouthful of blood. Blood is blood, Endryd. It has no more meaning to me than the effort it took to spill it. Then perhaps I am just too old to appreciate such things. Heh, perhaps, that’s why I’d been left to rot here.’

Endryd Haar: ‘Eh, we both know it isn’t so.’

Haar blinked. An image swelled. Tarmas advanced through the rain driving mortal soldiers before him with disciplined bursts.

Tarmas (in the distance): ‘Die, you bastards!’

A running mortal fell, a bloody crater opening between his shoulder blades. Another spun away, skull reduced to a red mist.

Endryd Haar: ‘Kharn wasn’t with us at Cerberus, was he?’

Kalibos: ‘Who has time to keep track of the comings and goings of pups? If he was, he did not kill anyone of not.’

The Apothecary caught hold of Haar’s shoulder and shook him. Haar forced himself to relax. Kalibos had always been boisterous.

Kalibos: ‘Not like us. We were demigods that day. The way you snapped that Thunder Warrior’s neck, hah! I still hear the sound of it in my dreams, like a mountain cracking in half.’

Endryd Haar: ‘I am but as I was made.’

Kalibos: ‘Yes, in such glorious craftsmanship. I was once talking with one of Fulgrim’s flesh-crafters, some sallow-faced jackal by the name of Fabius and he thought you were no true Adeptus Astartes at all. ‘Look at the size of him’, he said, ‘the way he moves, too fast by half for his bulk’ (laughing) Ha-ha-ha.’

Endryd Haar: ‘And what was your reply?’

Kalibos: ‘That some hounds are bigger than others.



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