Fear Incarnate

Fear Incarnate Portion 26

Innoak watched with growing impatience as the soul of his new visitor slowly approached, he sensed apprehension and fear. It was expected. Those who watched Astartes fight rarely were comfortable around them. The heavy door leading to his prison opened, sliding back on hissing pneumatics and creaking wheels. He felt the small vibrations of the soul's thoughts through the warp as it slowly approached. "I bid you welcome, Catra. I admit I did not expect you." The almost silent footsteps of the mutant ceased immediately. "Sure, I thought you could see everything? Well, except for the giant cage I dropped on your big head." Catra chuckled, no doubt enjoying her superiority over the trapped Innoak. "I doubt you came here simply to gloat. Why have you come?" Catra laughed and leaned against the side of Innoak's stale prison. "I came here to see you trapped and weak. I came here to show you that not even your powers can stop me. Nothing can stop me." Innoak stood within his prison, prompting an eyebrow raise from Catra. "How are you moving? That protein garbage is like glue!" Now it was Innoak's turn to laugh, he was enjoying this. "You should have learned to not underestimate me by now Catra. Adora did much faster than you." Catra bared her claws and hissed a retort. "Says the guy in a box." Innoak laughed again, and with a flick of his finger sliced a rent across reality and the chains that covered his box. They fell away with a loud clang and Catra jumped back in surprise. "I can do the same to sentient creatures, if I so desire." Innoak said, letting his frustration and malice at being put into his stale prison in the first place leak into his words. "Point taken." Catra mumbled. 

Bunk looked at his armor plating in growing displeasure, it was still shiny and its matte grey finish was untouched by the battle damage most Astartes warriors wore like badges. The Soul haunters were a chapter made from the varied battle brothers created by Cawl for the Indomitus crusade. Bunk carried the gene seed of Roboute Guilliman, leaving him as more of a statesman and commander rather than a warrior. Yet he was still a Space Marine, and he wanted battle. Bunk turned from the mirror in his quarters and stepped out, perhaps he would see it soon enough. Though he still had to do his duty, and part of it was near constant work alongside elements of the Imperium's varied military branches. 

Seth circled his opponent, hands outstretched and bunched up in a pugilists form. His adversary held a long knife, the dagger gleamed as it struck out. The short woman holding it cut and thrusted mercilessly, but Seth was fast, fast enough to dodge the next blow and drop low to the ground. He kicked out from below and knocked the woman over, her knife clattered away and Seth quickly annotated its position before leaping on top of the woman. He knocked the air out of her, managing to land a pair of punches before being kicked away. Seth rebounded off the ropes around the pair, but soon he was back in the fight. A solid kick bowled his enemy over again as he brought an elbow down on the exposed spine of his now incapacitated opponent. He moved towards the dagger before a shout brought him to attention quickly, he feet instinctively locked together and his back straightened. For her part, his enemy shakily stood and snapped to attention as well. "Seth, fine job. Dessima, you will not sleep for the next 3 cycles. You will be training." The bearded and wizened face of Tempestor Prime Augustus stared hard at the scion next to Seth. She almost deflated under the glare of the older man, Seth decided not to sow dislike among his comrades so he interjected. 

"Suggestion."

"Yes?"

"2 cycles, I will join her." 

"Explain." 

"Her form is good, but her mind is not. I see this and can assist." 

"So be it. 2 cycles of no sleep and training under Seth's supervision, understood?" 

Dessima nodded, she was tired but seemed to not harbor ill thoughts for Seth. The prime turned to the assembled Scions watching the fight and began to speak when the door to the arena opened. Seth's eyes widened and his instinctive salute was up in milliseconds, chairs fell back from the speed Scions stood to salute the newcomer. Before the arrayed soldiers stood an Astartes, he wore a suit of matte grey armor with sparse ornamentation. Only an autoreliquary and a small coil of strangely colored beads. A power sword larger than Seth was sheathed at his belt and a pistol the size of his thigh was holstered in what looked like cured tyranid skin. Augustus strode up to the Astartes with out a single sign of fear, and stuck out his hand to shake. The Astartes took it, Seth would have laughed at how small even Augustus's hand looked in the grip of the Space Marine. "Welcome Lord Astartes, How can I serve the Angel's of Death today?" The Astartes walked past the Prime and looked around at the assembled Scions. "I wished to meet those under my command, especially the elite 678th Ordinate Panthers. I have heard of your proficiency in close quarters and subterfuge, we may need it soon. Tempestor Prime, are your scions ready for combat?" Augustus cast a hawk eyed stare over what seemed like each of his men. After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded. "My men are prepared, what would you have us do?" The Astartes nodded and walked back to the door, he paused next to the Tempestor and spoke softly. Seth swore he heard the Astartes say a single word, 

"Kill." 

A grin spread across Seth's face, a small glance confirmed a similar smile had invaded the stern face of the Tempestor Prime. It had been long since the Panthers had been let out of their star sailing cage.