Editing Story:ROAD TRIP! (Warhammer High)/Part Four (section)

===A Story===


Konnar smiled slightly in the darkness.  “Both of our people found ways to turn the beasts of the land into a force of nature,” he said.

“They did.”  She looked up at him from somewhere around his waist.  “Is that what you wanted to show us?”

“No, Lady Venus,” the psyker said.  He gestured to the chairs behind them.  “Sister Freya asked me to tell you a little about us.”

The group founds seats as the Marine leaned back against the window, rubbing his chin.  “Did you have something in mind specifically, Sister?”

“Well…I wanted my friends to have a chance to hear a bit about Fenris itself.  The tribes, the people, the planet.”  She leaned forward.  “What can you tell them that isn’t in the history books?”

Konnar narrowed his eyes a bit.  “Interesting.”  He laced his fingers together and thought, head bowed.  “Fenris…she is a harsh mistress, indeed,” he said.  “Our world is a land of tumult.  Where some colony worlds banded together to overcome their homeworld’s geography, ours turned life into a competition.”  He tilted his gaze up a few degrees, staring into the interminable distance.  “Not one with rules, either.”  He gestured at the planet below.  “There’s more than forty eight tribes down there, each claiming all the territory they can.  Land is more important than anything else, to the tribesmen.  Land means crops, trees, and most importantly, game.”

He half-turned to stare down at the massive oceans visible on the surface below.  “Our people believe that the sky above them is a massive vault.  Above the clouds, there is a great gallery, leading into many halls.  Within them live the greatest warriors who have ever lived.  The worlds upon which we kill in the Emperor’s name are halls, to which we send our warriors, some of whom do not return.”
Konnar turned back to his audience.  “Even here, on Fenris’ brutal surface, the great fallen are given a chance to live again, in song, in legend, in namesakes.”

Freya drew her legs up to her chin again and listened, green eyes wide.  Konnar smiled despite himself.  She looked no older than the ten years she had been when he had seen her last, at that moment.  “Naturally, there is some truth to their myths.  For the stars ARE halls, of a sort, and contain many worlds, many battlefields.  And most of the Vlka Fenryka who have ever lived rest on those alien shores and lands.”

He sat in one of the iron chairs and faced the five.  “The tribes share little beyond their language.  We erase tribal loyalties from our Blood Claws, for once you join the Rout, there is no-one beyond your pack and your Wolf Lord, and Father Russ above all.  What little they know of us…is shrouded in myth and reverence.  And, of course, some fear.  Many times have we descended on great wars and conflicts to break them up, or even encourage them.  They do not know their Imperium, you see.  Only their Emperor, the All-Father, He Who is Above the King.”

Jake tilted his head a bit in silent question.  Konnar, of course, noticed.  He didn’t need his immense psychic powers to do so.  “Though the Fenrisians hold the Emperor above all other authorities, most do not worship him as a true god.  They hold him to be the pinnacle, the epitome of all that is human.  Which, by contrast, makes their worship of us all the more fervent.  To them, we are the sentries of the Emperor’s army, who carry fallen warriors away to eternal glory.  To a degree, we are.”

“Is that how you recruit?” Alex asked.

Konnar went silent for a moment.  “I will say that that is part of it.  More than that…forgive me, but that is not my part of the story to tell.  You understand.”

“Sure,” Alex said, nodding assent.

Venus looked over to the expanse of stars, watching a tiny comet blaze by.  “How many Fenrisians are there down there?” she asked.

“Perhaps eight million total, but for each major tribe, there are ten small ones, some less than a thousand strong.  Others are much larger, and their nomadic camps can stretch over entire valleys.”

Jake looked out the window too.  “Are all the tribes connected to the oceans in some way?  Or just the ones we heard about today?”

“Which ones did you discuss today?” Konnar asked.

“The Walking Waves and Krennir,” Jake supplied.

“I see.”  Konnar rolled one robe sleeve up to the elbow.  “I was once of the Krennir, myself.”  The tattoos to which he gestured were indistinguishable to the group from the others.

“How much do you remember?” Alex asked.

“Not a thing,” Konnar said.  The Rune Priest let his sleeve fall.  “The lives we leave behind are important as a lens, through which we examine our history, but they are not who we are now.”  He leaned forward a hair in his seat, a lopsided smile on his scarred face.  “The tribes of the shores…I would say most of them have at least some presence in the waters.  Only a few dwell in the hills and fields alone, and they are the specialists.  They are the cavalry archers, they are the beast-tamers, they are the traders.  The tribes of the seas and those who travel between land and water freely are the raiders, the explorers, the fishers.”

He settled back against the iron chair, looking over the group.  Freya hadn’t budged, and Alex and Jake seemed enrapt by the lesson.  Remilia was listening with her hand on her chin, and Venus had gone back to staring out the window at the planet below.

“What catches your eye, Princess?” Konnar asked her.

“Nothing specifically.  It’s just…really incredible.  Can you see any of the SDF or Legionary ships from here?” she asked.

“Not with the naked eye.  Not now that so many have taken to the front,” Konnar said.  He turned back to the others.  “Now…I am sure you’ve gathered, or even been told, that many of the brothers do not feel entirely comfortable with those outside the Legion learning so much about us.  There is, however, one story they would be proud to have me tell you,” he said.

“Which one?” Freya asked.

“An older tale.  The tale of our victory over the Fallen Souls,” he said.  “Despite the name, they were neither daemons nor renegade human warriors.”

“What were they?” Jake asked.

“Warp Emanations.  Not daemons, but aliens that live within that dark realm.”  Konnar tilted his head back and began.

“Three thousand years ago, the Crusade had entered its second phase.  The Primarchs had been found, STC relics and blueprints were pouring into the arms of the Machine God’s worshippers again…the Imperium was young and strong.  Around this time, we began to lose contact with individual planets at the very outermost edge of our progress along the star lanes to the Astronomican’s edge.  This happened, from time to time, you see, as Warp storms we had used as focusing points for Astropathy ebbed, or as worlds decided they really didn’t like that far-off Emperor fellow, and ‘forget him, we’re on our own.’  Nonetheless, the worlds with which we began losing contact were physically very close to each other.  Some were less than three light-years apart.  We began to suspect an alien invasion.”  Konnar leaned forward, splaying his hands over his knees.

“As you can imagine, we were loath to part with our hard-earned territory.  The Rout was dispatched, with Lord Gunar Wolfsmane at the head of the pack, nearly five thousand strong.  The first world we reached was embroiled in anarchy.  The Astropaths were dead, which was how we lost contact.  The Mechanicum stations around the system were under siege from psychotic SDF crews, fighting for their lives.  The surface was embroiled in a conventional arms battle that had laid waste to a city before we even got there.”

“Why did they turn on themselves?” Remilia asked.

Konnar nodded.  “We quickly realized that most of the visible victims were authorities.  Psychics, Astropaths, judges, techpriests, officers, a Navigator.  We thought it was an uprising, or that perhaps that an Imperial officer had abused his authority one too many times and the people were attempting a regime change.”

He shook his head.  “How wrong we were.  Sporadic distress calls from bunkers across the planet began reaching us.  We heard pleas for aid and backup, desperate inquiries into ‘when will the Sisters arrive?’”

“The Sisters…of Silence?” Jake asked.

“Indeed.  We had heard no requests for assistance from the Sisters, so we simply retook the void platforms and ships of the system before landing in force.  We fell from the skies in pods and ships, and cut our way to the embattled Governor’s mansion.  No sooner had we arrived than we were fired upon.  The Governor’s own personal guard had turned, and tried to cut our warriors down.  After dispatching them, the Governor himself arrived, and begged for the Sisters of Silence to come as fast as they could.  We demanded to know why they were needed, and he said that every single psychic in the system – and everyone who had been in contact with them for nearly a day before – had turned on the Imperium, and were using their abilities to control people and turn them into a slave army.”

Konnar took in their looks of disgust.  “We felt much the same you do, my friends.  We immediately split up, fanning out over the system and isolating every psychic we could find.  As we did, though, we found an oddity.  Many of them were already dead when we arrived.  They had been parasitized, you see, by Warp beings.  The beasts had taken over their minds and used them as hosts.  So you see, the psychics themselves were not at fault.  They were beyond rescue, however, and we granted them the Emperor’s Peace as often as we could.  The ones who had already released their parasites to attack more people were burned.”

“Were you there in person for this?” Freya asked, spellbound.

“No, Sister, this was two thousand years before I was even born.”

He leaned forward again.  “I’m sure you’re wondering why I told you this gruesome tale.  The fact of the matter is, we remember such things, and pass along such things, specifically because they are hard to hear.  We have peace, now.  A grand peace, that envelops the Imperium, and honors the fallen.  Some of the fallen, however, were not warriors.  It is just as important to remember those who fell simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time as it is to remember those warriors of the Imperium who fall in the course of their duties.”

Remilia and the boys nodded solemnly.  “So it is,” Remilia observed.

Freya rose and inclined her head.  “Thank you for sharing that, Rune-brother,” she said respectfully.

Venus watched as the old Priest rose from his seat.  “My honor, Sister.”  He made for the door.  “I will see you soon, when the time comes,” he said, departing through the lifts.

Jake turned to Freya.  “Will we be having a session like this tomorrow too?” he asked.

“No, but we will be dining with the rest of the Fang soon,” she said.  “He’ll be there.”

“Oh.”  Jake nervously rolled his shoulders.  She grinned at his obvious discomfort.

“Fear not, you guys will be able to leave whenever you want.”

“Good.”  Jake glanced over to where his girlfriend was still sitting in her chair, looking around the expansive room.  “You’re really taken by this room, aren’t you?” he asked.

“I am.  Sorry,” she said, standing up.

“For what?  It’s a cool room,” Jake said.

She shook her head with a rueful grin.  “It just feels really familiar, for some reason.  I dunno why, Prometheus doesn’t have anything like this.”

“Well, you can come back whenever,” Jake pointed out.

“True.”  She shrugged, sending black hair across her back.  “I think I will.”