Part IX Continued Ezekial could see the Hermit hunting through his memories, rooting through hundreds of years of life. Then his eyes widened as he remembered. With a stricken look, he groaned, sagging backwards against the wall. "Ah, but Fate plays cruel tricks," he murmured disconsolately. "That I should find you now, of all times, as a Dark Angel...." Ezekial's initial rush of gladness was quickly replaced by concern. Surging to his feet, he moved next to the older man. He still felt immense -- relief?, happiness?, hope? -- at finding Gideon, but he could not say why. Closer, he studied his friend's face: it was not the face of a Traitor, but of a sad, noble man. The years had engraved themselves deeply into the lines of his jaw, but he was as hale and hearty as any of his days on Egana III. He knew Gideon was no more a Traitor today than he had been on that day of old; he vividly remembered his trepidation when the Hermit had first confessed to no longer serving the Emperor as a Space Marine, even though he had assured Zeke that he was not a heretic. Now Ezekial knew many more things about his Chapter than he ever could have then. Two hundred years of service with his brothers had led him to many remote parts of the galaxy. Slowly, the Chapter Masters and Interrogator- Chaplains had doled out bits of information about the Dark Angels' history. Forgotten lessons suddenly made sense; strong cautionings no longer seemed so stringent. Once, the Dark Angels wore black armor. Once, the Rock had been a whole planet. Twice before Ezekial had been involved in small assaults on a world. Twice their targets were sole individuals, of obviously Space Marine origin, but no longer associated with any specific Chapter. Never would the officer in command -- always a member of the Deathwing, in one form or another -- give any information about why the Dark Angels should care what one man did, or why they were hunted. Each time, the survivor was hustled off to the depths of the Rock to the arms of the Interrogator-Chaplains, never to emerge. When Ezekial once asked why -- his curiosity overcoming his training, as it did so often in his life -- he was severely reprimanded. Told only that if he proved worthy he would be given knowledge, he had striven to live up to the standards set by his Masters. Now, suddenly, he thought he understood a little. Their reclamations of unaffiliated Space Marines were the same type of action that he had witnessed as a boy on Egana III when the Dark Angels had attempted to capture Gideon. Only Gideon had escaped, and somehow made his way here to Mraba IV. What his old friend had in common with the other two Marines Ezekial had seen was a mystery. But he knew his Chapter considered it of the utmost importance; so important that they would slaughter a complete unit of Arbitrators rather than take the risk that those servants of the Imperium had discerned their secret. And Gideon wore black power armor and carried red-painted weapons. And he had been old when Zeke was young. Ezekial's mind whirled with possibilities, trying to make sense of it all. Somehow Gideon was an original Dark Angel! With a shock, Ezekial realized that this explained why Gideon looked so forlorn: that the boy he had befriended should become one of his hunters. His own relief at finding a friend from his past was commingled with pain at the prospect of them killing each other. Only a few seconds had passed, and Ezekial, mind still racing, hurried to reassure the other man that he was no threat. "Gideon, we do not hunt you," he said. "We are here by chance, not to seek you. I... understand." Slowly, Gideon's sadness receded. Gathering himself up, he faced the Sergeant squarely. "Zeke, Zeke," he repeated, "there is no going back for us. That you do not hunt me now means nothing. Others will come. There will always be others." Briefly Ezekial wondered how many times Gideon had escaped capture by his Chapter. "But I understand now," he reasserted. "You are a Dark Angel, too. Or you were once. But you do not worship the foul gods of the warp; why do my brothers seek you now? Why are you not still a Dark Angel?" Gideon hesitated for a moment, then pushed past the Sergeant. His head roved back and forth, questing for answers in the dark corners of the corridor. Finding none, he instead faced the truth alone. "How long has it been, Zeke?" he asked, more to himself than not. "A century? Two? You are still young, and will not yet have earned the secrets you want. I know little of your Dark Angels. Do you pray to your weapons? Do you pray to the Emperor? He is but a man" -- Gideon overrode Ezekial's attempt to cut him off -- "a man, I say! But what a man. "Do you remember our last day, Zeke? Do you remember what I told you? I served with that Man, not out of duty, not out of a desire for gain, but out of love. All who knew him loved him, a pure love the likes of which no one in the universe knew could exist." Gideon was pacing now, eyes roaming left and right, caught up in his thoughts. "We, _all_ of us, would gladly have died for him. I serve him still, though to your eyes no doubt it does not look it. But it goes farther than that. I was one of the first Dark Angels. Do you understand that? I was in the Legion! We reconquered the galaxy under his command. That is my past. Those were my Dark Angels. "Now you think you are impure, and seek to expunge your stain of dishonor by hunting those who were led astray. I was one of those, swayed by the oration of Luther. I repented early, but not soon enough to save being cast into the warp storm caused by Luther's fall. So I have run, for century upon century, trying only to live my life in peace." Ezekial tried to keep up with Gideon's story. His knowledge of Chapter history conflicted with what the older man was saying. Little was known of the early days, by official lines: a terrible warp storm had destroyed their home world of Caliban, leaving only the Rock; their noble Primarch disappeared at the same time, and no one knew where he had gone. Who were these others Gideon referred to that were led astray? What dishonor on his Chapter was he talking about? Who was this Luther? It was over ten thousand years since those times. Even first generation Space Marines could not live so long. How could Gideon have served under the Living Emperor? Just as he had done once before, Gideon did not stop to let Ezekial catch up. "But now there is hope in my life once again. There is a purpose. To those of your ilk it is surely a terrible purpose, for you do not understand. But I must not speak any more. Zeke, do you truly understand?" Part X Events too large for Ezekial to fully grasp were passing him by. He clutched at smaller issues first. "We did not even know you were here," he replied, as though it were an answer to the question. "We were not hunting for you. Why, then, did you attack us? That is what will lead to your being found. You have given yourself away." "Because you killed Spook and Bug!" Gideon suddenly roared, striking his power sword against the wall, blasting chunks free. "And Tyke! Poor, poor Tyke. They did nothing to harm any of you, and yet you destroyed them for destroying's sake!" The quick fury of Gideon's accusation dumbfounded Ezekial. His mind reeled trying to sort out what he meant. Finally, dimly, he realized. "The metal creatures," he said, "they were your pets. Baronus must have killed them, thinking they threatened him." "They were sent to watch, nothing more!" Gideon raged again. "I know, I saw them run, trying to get out of your men's way. They were brought down for sport! And you were their Sergeant, you gave them their orders!" A note of disapproval crept into Ezekial's voice as he defended himself. "I gave them orders, yes, to not fire except in self-defense. Their disobedience sickens me, and brings yet more shame upon my head." Ezekial's easy admission and self-criticism cut Gideon's ready reply off short. He was too accustomed to enemies who never admitted their wrongs. That one of them should do so now nonplussed him. Perhaps young Zeke did understand, at that. "They did not fire," Gideon admitted. He felt a grudging respect growing for the boy; he still thought of Zeke as a boy, even though the two hundred year old Marine barely resembled the youth he remembered. "They obeyed the letter of your law, if not its spirit. From their conversation it was obvious they felt everyone in this building was a danger, even your fine companions the Stirkans, and wished to rid themselves of some superfluous waste. I was unable to stop them in time, and killed two in my anger. I had originally planned to only watch your intrusion into my sanctuary, but... events transpired differently than I had hoped. But killing zealots is easy, and not without its rewards." An uneasy silence lapsed between the two men. Ezekial had questions -- so many questions! -- to ask that he did not know where to begin. The man he had known as the Hermit had never balked at answering questions before; he did not think he would do so now. But now was not the time for questions. With the force of a blow, their present circumstances returned to the fore of the Sergeant's attention. His wounds required more care -- his earlier fight with Gideon had reopened one or more of them -- and the Eldar would surely kill them both if they found entry to the City of Might. They needed to secure the building, exactly as before. |
REDEMPTION By Kelly L'Roy |
TOMES OF VALOUR |
This item has been reproduced without the permission of the author. It's use here is not intended as a challenge to the original authors copyright and is reproduced here for the sole purpose of enhancing the Dark Angel spirrit and the warhammer 40,000 experience. Sadly all attempts at contacting the author have been unsuccessful and the original site where this was published no longer in existence. The story has been too invaluable to the DA community to be simply lost in the warp and therefre been reproduced here. If Kellt L'Roy happens to read these pages, please contact by email. |
