Beyond the boundary of death
Beyond the boundary of time
Beyond the records of history
Beyond the sights of people
Beyond the pain of Immortality
The thunderhawk is quiet. Warm clouds of smoke bloom under the surface of my sabatons as the vehicle descends towards the recycled air of the hangar.
I can feel the heat now. There is no cold of space to displace the warmth from within the engine.
The thunderhawk descends. It anchors onto the dock, and the ramp lowers as air blasts past my face. My brothers, in sync, depart the thunderhawk as I follow after them. I look down slightly to my left, noticing the trail of blood I leave behind on the dull surface. How unfortunate. Perhaps I will take care of these small matters if my new duties ever permit.
The floor will stain. It is up for someone else to fuss over now.
I head on my course. I know where to go. I head up the stairs past the balustrade of the observation deck and take the lift with a few other brothers, who quiet down in their conversations and give me a few feet of space and silence. They recognize me and my station. Regrettable. I preferred the days I spent in solitude.
I head down the concourse, nodding silently to brothers passing by in acknowledgement as I head to the deck. My hearing picks up heavier footsteps behind me as two brothers of higher station follow me in. I did not expect them. Perhaps they elected to follow.
As I duck past the doorway into a waiting room of my counsel and Guard, I pick up the sweep of an incense burner as these brothers follow me inside.
I incline my head towards the officer near the head of the table. Her jaw tenses, her eyes squint, but she returns my acknowledgement, if not rather tersely. I would rather not presume to know what she was thinking. It is not my place.
I wait for most of the gathered entourage to depart. Perhaps they will take their leave of the barge. Perhaps they have more to discuss.
Whatever it was, it had to wait.
With a gentle motion of my hand, the last of the occupants departs. Alone now, I key in the access code for the transponder once again and wait. I wait, listening to the machine spirit of the console work to bring me whoever will appear to speak. A figure wreathed in dark maroon appeared on the display, wearing a crown with a jewel at the center of his head. I watch. I wait. He had business, or perhaps a request to ask of me.
He squints, eyes shimmering like lanternflies as perhaps he tries to understand.
He hesitates. He stalls. “The passing of the Late Lord Marshal was…regrettable.”
“It was expected.” I incline my head, letting the machine’s receiver pick up the motion. For a moment, I feel the drift of the engine underneath my feet within the brief pause.
He swallows. “You are the new Lord Marshal of your Crusade.”
He inclines his head and ends the call with:
“Our Navis House would like to meet you. You will have notice when we send an emissary.”
I watch as the display flickers out and back into its idle state. With a slow breath, I click a few access keys and shut the machine down. There is nothing more to be done here. As I begin my departure, I take a spare rag someone left behind and wipe away remnants of dried gore on my gauntlets as I walk out onto the accessway.
“My lord.” I meet the gaze of a serf, who holds out his hands upon seeing the rag I hold.
I consider the gesture. I gently fold the cloth over itself into a neat square before handing it to the serf. I watch as his eyes widen before it is hidden by the cowl of his hood as he bows and heads off. I step around, passing servitors and other servants of the barge as I walk out towards the wider gallery.
I see how they bow, how they hesitate now. Something settles in my mind as I feel the familiar weight of the prayer beads, and I feel for them for a brief moment. For a moment, I register new grooves in the wood. Much like the faces I see waiting for direction.
I let the weight of my pauldrons settle as I lower my shoulders. They would expect much. It was unavoidable. I settled my voice and began to speak.
Onto The 41st Millenium - Chapter 9 - FluffWriteronCrack - Warhammer 40.000 [Archive of Our Own]
