Shield of Baal (Space Marine Battles) by Josh Reynolds & Braden Campbell & Joe Parrino

Shield of Baal (Space Marine Battles) by Josh Reynolds & Braden Campbell & Joe Parrino

Author:Josh Reynolds & Braden Campbell & Joe Parrino [Reynolds, Josh]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-11-29T11:39:55+00:00


‘I am the Brine. Everything that lives within me, I have made a part of me. Since you spurn me, Ixoi, the creatures of Lysios will suffer my wrath. I will devour them, and greatly. The things that live in me will feast upon the things that live outside of me, because without you, I am craven.’

– Cantos Continuous, M41

Chapter Four

Chavis was not his original name. It had been given to him twenty years previously, by a drill abbot who selected it from a long list of possibilities. He had been twelve years old at the time, the victim of a disaster he couldn’t recall which had taken place on a home world he could no longer remember. One of a hundred boys brought before the Schola Progenium that day, he had been sprayed with a hose, deloused, and told to forget everything about his past. This included his name. His name was Chavis now.

‘You should be proud,’ they had told him. ‘Each of the names on this list once belonged to a great hero of the Imperium. This man, Chavis, was known for his wisdom and commitment to success. Now, it’s up to you to carry on his legacy.’

He did his best to comply, and he did feel proud to have been awarded such a name. He even enjoyed the brutal rigours of training, remaining stoically silent through aching muscles and the occasional snapped bone. Suffering became the price to be paid for the honour of bearing the name of Chavis.

He did not, however, enjoy the Correction Throne.

It was a standard phase in the development of a Tempestus Scion. All of them would go through it. He accepted that much. What he would never understand was why such a terrible thing was given such an elegant name. He had imagined a magnificent chair, like the one the Emperor sat in, but when he was at last brought before it, he found it to be nothing of the kind. The Correction Throne was a metal frame with leather straps around the arms and legs. Suspended above was what appeared to be a bowl filled with spikes. He was forced into the seat. Rough hands cinched the belts tightly around his limbs. The bowl was placed over his head. A block of wood was inserted into his mouth to ensure that he didn’t bite through his tongue. Adepts in hooded robes, lurking in the dark corners of the room, muttered as they flipped switches and turned dials.

Then, like a billion young lads before him, he was mindscaped. The needles drove themselves through the back of his skull. The soft pathways of his brain were flooded with a neurochemical designed to wipe them clean. When he was at last allowed to rise from the Throne, his mind would be an empty vessel, fit to be filled with all the terrible doctrines of war. And fill it they did.

Two decades later, Chavis knew how to achieve any mission given to him. He knew when to take ground, and when to hold it; when to act with caution, and when to risk it all.



Download



Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.