Brotherhood of the Yellow King Chapter Nine

9: A Violent Ingress.

It was three days (such as Worth reckoned them) later that Carn approached Endomaw mine. His path had diverged from the convoy's tracks some time ago but he had followed the tank treads far enough to be able to see the plumes of industrial waste in the distance and the City of Endomaw in the direction of the tracks and he knew there were no answers to be found in that metropolis. No it was the mine in which Larkarsky had chanced upon whatever it was that so desperately being hidden. His task, his Holy appointed task, was to uncover it and expose it to the Emperor’s light. He would not fail. He had made good progress, fuelled by divine purpose and Ashworm meat, travelling during the day and fitfully resting at night, plagued by dreams and visions. Only once had he had to fire Emperor’s Fury. To dissuade a stalking quadruped predator lean of frame and lank of fur that had stalked him at dusk with glowing feral eyes. A warning shot had been enough to drive off the opportunistic hunter and it had not returned.

On the second day he had come across one of the rare copses on Worth, a grove of strange purplish trees shooting up between crystal formations. Though he had Ashworm meat to spare it was of little succulence by now and he sampled the fronds and leaves cautiously. Most were so bitter as to be unpalatable but he had eventually found a growth that had yielded a sweet nectar that quenched his thirst. He had lopped off some extra stalks and taken them with him. He had also taken some branches in the hope that he might be able to produce a campfire but alas they proved to be entirely non combustible and he had to endure the bitterly cold nights huddled and shivering. Still, endure he did, triumphing against the elements and hardships, conquering the terrain and inhospitable environment, and now, NOW his destination was in sight.

He crouched behind a boulder on a rocky bluff slightly overlooking the mining complex. He had never been to Endomaw but he had studied the plans that had been made available. Unlike those of the city these still seemed to be mostly accurate, at least above ground. Carn had no illusions that subterranean developments would have altered the underground layout drastically. For now though, he needed a point of ingress. Lacking any type of mag scope he had to rely on his own eyes but thankfully he had gotten used to the frequent ash storms and squalls and could see through the clouds of dust around the complex. There! A utility entrance, and only monitored by a single guard. Carn watched him for the next couple of hours, hoping to establish a patrol pattern he might exploit but the guard largely kept to his post, departing only for a moment to relieve his bladder against a nearby wall. Carn became resigned to the fact that he was going to have to kill the sentry. He grimaced, he would have much preferred to sneak in without resorting to violence. Not for regard for the guard’s life, he was the enemy and therefore deserving of such a fate. Besides, Carn had killed before, albeit not for some time. No, it was simply a matter of efficiency. He did not want to have to hide a body and there was the chance that the missing guard might be noticed or the alarm might be raised when he failed to call in.

There appeared to be no choice however, and he prepared himself for the seemingly inevitable confrontation. First he discarded the wrappings that he had cloaked himself in, Scorched cloth, Ashworm hide, tatters of overcoat, all were discarded and placed in a pile at the top of the bluff. After all, there was no guarantee they would not be needed again. He tore off the ragged sleeves of his shirt and made sure Emperor’s Fury was secure in his waistband. His leg had healed somewhat and he had been able to rid himself of his metal crutch the previous evening, he had considered keeping it as it made a formidable club, but his knife was more subtle a killing tool than a metal bludgeon and he was glad to be rid of the weight.  Sporting only his improvised satchel, which he securely tied to his chest, and his weapons, he slowly descended the rock face. It was not a perilous or particularly lengthy descent and within a few minutes he was crouched on the ground behind a formation of crystals. He regarded the sentry; the guard seemed slight and though Carn was no longer young he was powerful and had no concerns about besting the guard in a fight. The trick was to make the fight as quick and quiet as possible. A length of large industrial piping would allow him to close within striking distance, although he would not be able to take the guard totally unawares. He would have to hope that the element of surprise and the Emperor’s grace would prove enough for him to triumph. Before he made his move he drew his knife and made a swift short incision on each forearm, he squeezed the wounds to maximise the produced blood and smeared it all over his arms. He then coated them in ash. The cuts stung as he rubbed the ash into the blood but the desired effect was attained. He knew his face was still covered in ash and blood but where he had removed his sleeves his bare arms, though dirty, were showing far too much flesh that might divulge his position. Now thus camouflaged he was ready.

Taking advantage of a sudden ash cloud he crawled towards the cluster of piping. Keeping a low profile he progressed along the side of the pipe until he closed within four foot of the sentry. Looking between the pipes he could see his target more clearly. Wearing a mining suit and lackadaisically carrying a poorly maintained lasrifle he nonetheless determinedly performed his duty, maintaining a dutiful vigilance. The guard wore a yellow bandanna over his face, presumably to keep the ash out, and stooped slightly, suggesting some deformation. There was a power to the way that he carried himself however and Carn revised his earlier assessment of the ease of the coming combat. The pipe lay between him and the guard and he would either have to crawl under it or go over the double length of piping to attack. Going under would be slow and leave him far too vulnerable. Mounting the piping would prove no easy task though, especially attempting to do so quietly. He looked back along the way he had come, noting where the piping curved and ran along the building that the utility door led to. He carefully crawled back along the pipe and then pulled himself up on top, hauling himself up as quietly as he could, Crouching on top of the pipe he crept back along to his previous position, going slowly so as to maintain his balance. Before long he was near his original position, though he dared not get quite as close for fear of being spotted atop his perch. He was about ten foot away, slightly behind the guard and entirely visible. A leaping attack was out of the question, even in his prime Carn would have been unable to make the distance. He removed his boots carefully, placing the knife between his teeth. Leaving his heavy footwear atop the pipes he lowered himself carefully to the ground. Absolute silence was impossible, Carn was a big man after all, but he managed to descend without the guard noticing. He was thankful he cast no shadow betraying his movement.  There were shadows at the foot of the piping however and he now crouched in these, considering his next move. The door was too far away for him to reach and the odds of him doing so without the guard noticing were zero. He began to slowly edge towards the guard, leaving the sanctuary of the shadows and holding the knife low in one hand so as to keep it out of the light.

Suddenly he froze as the guard turned slightly, cocking his head. Carn contemplated a knife throw but his skill in such things was a far cry from that in his youth. Instead he tensed like a coiled spring, ready to launch himself at the guard should he be made. Thankfully the guard halted just short of seeing Carn and muttered something, bringing his free hand up to his head and cradling his lasrifle in his other arm. He was obviously reporting in, there would likely not be a better time than this. Carn waited for the sentry to finish his communique and then as he turned back Carn crept forward the final few feet. At that moment fate changed. A squall of ash saw the guard spin around to protect his face and suddenly his eyes widened as he saw Carn crouching in front of him.  Carn resorted to the knife throw in desperation but as he had feared it was inaccurate and glanced off the guard, the knife spinning into the dirt. The guard went to raise his rifle to firing position but Carn lashed out with a sweeping kick toppling the sentry and knocking the rifle from his grasp. Carn looked to follow this up with a elbow to the guard's windpipe, ending the fight quickly, but the sentry was more agile than he had credited and rolled to the side quickly. He went to activate his comm but Carn delivered a precision chop which disabled the device and tore away the face mask. The guard responded by hurling Carn away from him and with the few seconds bought got to his feet. Carn stood as well and the two combatants regarded each other.

Carn was aghast at the visage of his opponent, where he had torn away the face mask there was exposed no human face but rather the features of some beast. The nose was more of snout and the snarling mouth showed pointed fangs rather than teeth. What heresy was this? What den of depravity and horror did the mine contain? He must find out, bring it to the Emperor's light and see it burned to purity. First though, he would have to contend with this guard. He launched himself at the loathsome figure with both fists knotted, intending a critical double handed uppercut blow. It never landed, once again with an ease belying his awkward frame the guard swayed to the side, avoiding Carn's strike. Carn had been expecting this however, and the telegraphed blow was in part a feint. He kicked out at the guard's leg, sacrificing balance for the quick strike. His foot crashed into the guard's leg just below the knee, forcing it in a direction that the joint was not designed to go in and he was rewarded with a bellow of pain and his opponent toppling to the floor. Carn also hit the ground but rolled quickly to come back up scooping his knife up in the process. The guard was still on the floor, trying to rise but unable to do so, able to get to his knees but no more. Carn sprang at the guard knocking them both to the floor, stabbing his knife into his foe's torso. The blade pierced the sentry's side and Carn felt hot blood flow over his hands. They rolled, Carn's blade still stuck, as they vied for position and the guard fought for his life. Carn knew that the longer the fight went on the more disadvantaged he would be, he was injured and as as they struggled he felt wounds reopen and his shoulder jar. He had to end this quickly. 

The guard got the upper hand however and landed a punishing blow into Carn's face, he felt bone break, though whether it was his cheek or jaw he was not sure. The guard sat astride Carn and smashed another fist into the Prefect's face snarling in fury. Carn tried to throw his opponent off but his strength was failing him, his gun was pinned underneath him out of reach. In desperation he reached for his knife, still lodged between his enemy's ribs. blood slicked fingers grasped and slipped on the handle as the guard wrapped both hands around Carn's throat and started to squeeze. Carn's struggles grew weaker and weaker as the guard, hissing triumphantly, choked the life from him. No, not like this, he wouldn't fail like this. He, wouldn't fail the Emperor, be unworthy of his light! But that light was fading, Carn's vision started to darken as his brain was starved, his efforts to dislodge the guard growing ever more feeble, his mind fogged and despite the situation he started to calm, a strange peace filling his body.

Then he was free, the guard's crushing weight was gone. Carn was able to move, more importantly, he was able to breathe. He sucked down great greedy lungfuls, of air, gasping as his mental faculties returned. looking to one side and then the other he saw the prone figure of the guard. As the blur faded he then saw a knife sticking out of the guard's chest, his knife. He had no recollecting of landing the killing blow, no recollection of even obtaining the knife. Carn sat up, aches and pains shooting throughout his body as his mind attempted to make sense of what had happened. The guard was quite dead, his rictus snarl intact despite all life being absent from his form. Carn regarded his vanquished foe for a moment and then rolled to his hands and knees before shakily getting to his feet. he leaned against the nearby length of piping, hands on knees, recovering from the fight. He was conscious of the noise the struggle had caused and tried to listen for any activity or alarm over the blood pounding in his ears. It seemed that the fight had not drawn any attention however and after a few moments recovery he cast his mind towards what came next.

The body caused a problem, though he had been fortunate to catch the guard just after a check in he would no doubt be missed at some point. However long that took was pretty much how long Carn had undetected. He contemplated hiding the body, there was not all that much blood on the ground and he could kick ash and dirt over that easily enough. But, no, the body would be discovered before long and a hidden corpse would cause suspicion. Just then, as Carn was weighing up his options,  a solution was once again provided for him. Stalking from the shadows came a skulking form, a quadruped of the kind he had encountered before. Carn snapped his head up and as swiftly as he could, retrieved his knife. The predator was not interested in him though, there was an easier meal available. The predator hesitated as Carn prepared to defend himself, but upon seeing that Carn was making no further aggressive move approached. Still though it would not feed on the corpse, it's instincts taking precedence over it's need to feed. Carn fished about for a strip of the Ashworm meat, selecting the most tender portion, he tossed it to the far side of the dead guard and the beast approached it, sniffing it cautiously before wolfing it down. It was clearly hungry. Carn stepped forward, knife in hand, and threw another scrap of Ashworm flesh. The creature regarded him cautiously with glowing eyes, sniffing the proffered food tentatively before once again eating it whole. Carn used this moment to slit the guard's throat. A slash across the torso would have been preferable but the mining suit was thick and difficult to cut through , though the knife would have done it given time. In any event the result was the same. As the blood poured from the ruin of the guard's throat and Carn retreated, the predator-turned-scavenger turned its attention to the corpse, lapping at the pool of blood before fastening its jaws upon the dead guard's throat.

Satisfied that he had utilised the Emperor's gift as best as possible and that the guard's death would now be explained away as an animal attack, Carn turned around and walked back to the door without a second glance. He had the presence of mind to retrieve his boots from atop the pipe first, slipping them back on though he ached and his right foot was swollen.  Hefting the door open with a grunt Carn stepped into the darkness of Endomaw mine at last.

Brotherhood of the Yellow King Chapter Eight.

8. Ash and Blood.

Getting to his feet once more Carn assessed his condition. He had a large gash in his forehead and half his face was covered in blood, though the wound seemed to have healed. He also had a number of lacerations to his entire body most of which were minor and clotted with ash.  As he had suspected he had a number of broken ribs and upon lifting his tunic he was alarmed at the lurid bruises and subdermal bleeding that greeted him. In addition his shoulder was severely dislocated, such that he couldn’t reset it himself. He tried, leaning on rocks and crystals to gain leverage but it seemed to be firmly locked out of place. Weak as he was he had no chance of correcting the injury. His overcoat was a tattered ruin, torn, scorched and ripped. He removed it and tore the remainder of the garment to shreds, kneeling upon it to allow him to perform the task with one hand. He deftly tore the coat into strips, using some to bind wounds and some to wrap around his head as a hood. Worth’s environment was hostile at the best of times and he would need the protection from the sun. He kept a few scraps to wrap around the data slate to protect it. He needn’t have worried about it betraying his position, it resolutely refused to activate despite him cleaning it best as he could. It seemed largely undamaged but it just wouldn’t power on. Carn suspected it was out of energy, either that or the simple Machine Spirit within was disquieted and refused to activate the device. Carn was no Techpriest and lacked the devotions or unguents to repair the slate, he would simply have to connect it to a power supply and hope for the best.

Of course, getting to one would be difficult. It was a certainty that the wreckage would be of no use to him, though he was bound to check it anyway. He had no food, no water and no medical supplies. All he had was his new found faith and that would have to be enough. Making a simple strap from strips he had torn he fastened the pocket he had salvaged from his coat and tied the ends. With his makeshift satchel containing the precious dataslate he staggered towards the crash site to see what he could salvage. As he walked he realised that his right ankle was damaged too, hopefully nothing more than a sprain. Nonetheless it would make his progress slow and painful. Determinedly he continued, focusing on the wreckage of the shuttle and setting one foot in front of the other heading towards his destination a few hundred metres away.

So preoccupied was he on his target he quite failed to notice the sand shifting behind him, following him as he walked…

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The crash site was even worse than he could have imagined. The destruction of the shuttle notwithstanding, the search party had been thorough indeed in their hunt for survivors. Debris had been ripped apart, scattered and in some cases destroyed entirely, molten puddles testament to their fervent search.  There was little left, his would be killers had seen to that. No medical supplies and no food or water, clearly they had intended that should Carn somehow have survived the crash he would die out in the ash wastes. Not that anyone could have imagined that he would have lived through such an event. Still, Carn did not pretend to know how the minds of the impure worked and  did not wish to. Sifting through the charred remains and still warm smouldering metal of the hull he found his chest holster, empty and ruined beyond any hope of being able to use it again.  Despairingly he tossed it to one side and bemoaned the loss of Emperors Fury. He’d had the gun a long time and it had saved his hide more times that he could count though it was some time since he had fired it in in anger. Suddenly he spotted something glinting out of the corner of his eye. Could it be? He stumbled over to it but It was actually an empty and broken bottle of cheap Skee. Up until that  point he had not even thought about the alcohol but upon spying the label and glass lying in the ash he felt a longing for that familiar and comforting slow burn.

In a sudden fury he scooped up the broken bottle and hurled it at the closet fragment of hull. It shattered satisfyingly but the sudden expenditure of energy made him sag. It was at this moment that the Ashworm attacked.

Erupting from the ground from behind Carn it fastened its many fanged maw on his shoulder and injected its numbing venom, attempting to wrap its body around Carn and haul him to the floor. Carn, weary beyond measure, tried to turn and dislodge his attacker but had neither the strength or momentum to do so. He was lucky It was only a juvenile, had it been an adult he would be dead already and dragged beneath the surface to be slowly consumed. Nonetheless, in his weakened condition he was in a fight for his life. Already the soporific effects of the creature’s bite were spreading through his body and he could feel his limbs becoming leaden and his senses dull. He fumbled with his good arm for the knife he kept in his boot, though he had no way of knowing if it was still in there. The worm, thrashing about, wrapped a coil round his trailing leg, tripping him. He hit the ground on top of the serpentine predator and rolled away lest his attacker try to constrict him more. He sensed his flesh tear at the shoulder, though there was no pain thanks to the numbing agent in the worm’s venom, but the creatures grip on him remained firm.

Summoning his last vestiges of inner strength, Carn pushed himself to his feet, kicking his leg free. With the Worm hanging from his shoulder, writhing and trying to gain a fatal grip on him, he hurled himself backwards into the piece of hull that he had hurled the bottle of Skee into. The impact pushed the debris back and he fell on his rump  awkwardly. The Ashworm, crushed between the hull and Carns body, writhed and squirmed in an effort to free itself. Carn leaned forward to try to get to his feet but his legs failed him. He managed to push forward with one last herculean effort just as the hull sheeting toppled. The piece of metal had been supporting another piece of wreckage and this fell, impaling the worm scant  inches from Carn’s body. The jagged metal cut deep and the Worm’s ichor splashed on the surrounding ground, a cloying and sickly sweet smell filling the air. Pinned to the earth the Worms struggles grew weaker and weaker as it’s lifeblood pooled into the ash. Finally it stopped moving and hung limply from his shoulder, its grip loosening at last.

Shaking as the adrenaline left his system, Carn reached up and prised the dead worm’s teeth from his shoulder. It fell to the floor with a thud and he cautiously moved away from it though it remained quite motionless. It was then that he realised he was supporting his weight on both arms. He gingerly lifted his bad arm and rotated it at the shoulder, even if there were any pain he wouldn’t have felt it but it moved easily enough. He surmised that the force of the Worm’s bite had somehow put the joint back into place, truly the Emperor worked in mysterious ways. Even the blood streaming from his shoulder had slowed and congealed. Furthermore he now had a form of sustenance. Reaching once more into his boot he pulled out his knife and started sawing hunks of meat from the Ash worm. The skin and flesh was tough but the knife sharp and equal to the task.  Carn devoured the first couple of strips raw, gulping down the juicy meat, ichor running down his chin, mingling with the blood and ash. Further slabs of flesh he laid on the metal shard that had killed the worm, in the heat it would cook or at least dry, quickly.

With a dozen strips laid out on the hull he arose from the butchered carcass of the Ashworm and scanned the horizon. Much of the surrounding area was rocky mesa but it was not hard to see which direction the convoy had gone, the transports tracks were deep and even the ash storms had failed to completely cover them. He would simply follow them till he got to their final destination, Emperor willing. Kneeling once more by the remains of the Ashworm he continued to flense and skin the creature constructing a pouch from a portion of the skin to house the meat in. As an afterthought he totally removed the skin from the carcass and wrapped it round him like a shawl, with any luck the smell might deter other predators and worst case scenario it would provide a little extra protection from the elements. A final survey of the area found little else of use other than a metal strut he could use as a walking stick/weapon and a charred piece of fabric which he wrapped around his shoulders. He imagined that he looked quite the horror now but he had never been a particularly vain or proud man, and besides, now he had a higher purpose. During his final search he also came across the ragged remnants of the pilot, barely recognisable as a figure, little more than hunks of pulped flesh and pipes. Carn regarded the tattered ruin; his newfound piety compelled him to solemnly voice a heartfelt prayer for the soul of the pilot, ushering him into the glorious embrace of the Emperor, beloved by all. Possibly a benediction to the Machine God that they worshipped would have been more apt but Carn knew little of such things and besides, he’d heard tell they were one and the same anyway. This was a comfort to him, there was only the one almighty immortal God Emperor, any other concept was heresy.

It was late, well into the second cycle as Carn reckoned it, It was still light and hot though. Travelling a long distance at night would be ill advised, no matter the preparations he had made. He had best make a start. He stood up, testing the weight on his leg and supporting himself on the metal stanchion. There was some pain, which was likely a good sign, indicating that the Ashworm’s venom was wearing off. With one final check of his provisions, garb and equipment (including making sure the dataslate was secure and protected) he set off. As he reached the edge of the debris field, using his improvised stick to gain purchase and lean upon, his foot kicked something, dislodging it from the ash where it was buried.  Carn looked down. The item was still mostly covered but he could just about see glinting gilt scrollwork and the letters ‘ore Imper’ partially obscured by purplish grey ash and dust. Tears filled his eyes as he knelt down to retrieve Emperors Fury and gave thanks once again to the Emperor of Mankind. 

Brotherhood of the Yellow King: Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Renewed

The convoy threw up a cloud of purplish ash as it drew towards the crash site. Two Chimera Transports and a brace of Armoured Sentinels trundled towards the burning scattered wreckage that lay between two large rock formations. A long furrow had been gouged in the earth where the shuttle had impacted and the path was strewn with debris. One Chimera and a Sentinel each ground to a halt at either end of the trail of destruction.

Brother Lek stomped down the descending ramp of the Chimera that had stopped nearest the initial point of impact. It was dark, the only light came his suit lamp and from the twisted and burning metal that littered the ground. The searchlight on the Chimera swung around to try to illuminate the gouge torn in the earth.There was little left, most of the pieces here were of the wings, torn away from the main fuselage as the craft had ripped itself apart.  Suddenly the illumination increased considerably as a Valkyrie gunship flew overhead before settling into a circling hover pattern, a powerful spotlight casting its beam in a sweeping arc across the crash site. Lek looked up as it moved, calculating the shuttle's path

An overhead crystal outcrop had been shattered, shards littered the area and some of them had impaled themselves deep into the surrounding rock such was the violence of their destruction. Clearly the shuttle had hit this first and it had altered its trajectory enough to result in a horizontal slide rather than a meteor like impact into the earth. This was the only thing that had prevented the shuttle from being utterly obliterated on impact. The shuttle had then hit the ground on one side and a wing had been torn off, the shuttle then cartwheeling along, losing the other wing and shedding pieces of its hull, ripping itself apart as it went.

Lek kicked a piece of smouldering wreckage aside, there was little debris here that was big enough to have to be investigated but they had been instructed to look for a body. Were they doing the search for appearances sake or were they actually meant to bring the body back? That was for the Magus to decide. He could see His Yellow robed form a few hundred foot away, directing the other search team. Comprised mostly of 3rd Generation hybrids they were a little more brutish and less independent but they were truer to the vision of the four armed Emperor and therefore blessed and holy. He could see them flipping over pieces of wreckage, silhouetted by the flames. Another group nearby were gesticulating wildly and the Valkyrie moved to cover them with the spotlight, Ganvan strode over to their position and Lek broke into a run to join them.

As he approached he could see what had agitated the Thirds, Though there was no single piece of the shuttle left large enough to be called intact, the spread of wreckage did include some larger pieces of fuselage and interior partially covered in the strange grey/purple ash. Seats were strewn across the ground. One of them was still occupied.

The pilot worked it's jaw and what remained of it's right arm spasmodically. Various fluids leaked from tubes and ruined flesh, intermingling on the floor and soaking into the dark ash, congealing and solidifying. Like the shuttle there was very little of the pilot left and it was only the extensive augmentations and bionics that meant it was still alive at all. Alive might be have been the wrong term, functioning might be more accurate. In any event, it wasn't in that state for long, at a nod from the Magus a hulking Third ripped the pilots body from the seat and harness in a gush of blood and lubricants. Holding the stricken cyborg aloft in its claws it savagely blew its head apart with a burst of fire from it's auto pistol before tossing the ravaged remains aside with a guttural snarl. No survivors. The Magus nodded approvingly and turned to face Lek as the Valkyrie made another looping pass with it's searchlights.

"Well?" He swept his Staff in a wide arc encompassing the crash site, "any sign?"

Lek swallowed hard, though he did not fear the Magus, it simply galled and pained him to disappoint such a venerated figure. He bowed his head before replying.

"My humblest apologies Holy One. No sign of the human, but given the completeness of destruction of the transport it is unlikely that anything significant could be found." He raised his head once more to meet the Magus's piercing stare as he replied.

"Take  no chances, continue the search and ensure that you are thorough. We need to be sure. We cannot afford a repeat of the incident in the mine. It is not time yet" Ganvan's eye's glinted, leaving no illusion as to what he meant. He abruptly turned and stalked away, a Sentinel coming to a halt to allow his passage. He boarded the Chimera accompanied by a guard of Thirds, the ramp closed and the tracked transport ground its way through the ash and departed, leaving Lek in charge of the search operation. Standing framed by fire Lek swore that he would not fail as he had with the previous human visitor. He strode back over to his squad to organise the search.

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Some distance away weary and pained eyes watched the crash site activity though they could not make out any details. Carn didn't know how he was still alive. He had been thrown far from the site of the crash, landing in soft ash rather than hard rock and somehow escaping the conflagration of the shuttle's demise. There was no wreckage around him. It was dark and he was more or less invisible, not least because he was covered in purplish ash. Nonetheless, he had not escaped entirely unscathed. At least three of his ribs were broken and one arm hung uselessly by his side, his shoulder dislocated. He would have to take care of that at some point. Blood and ash also covered his face and he had a number of minor lacerations to his torso and arms. However, from what he could see of the wreckage of the shuttle it was nothing short of a miracle that he had survived. Truly the Emperor Protects, he thought, mentally reciting a prayer of thanks to the Master of Mankind. Through a haze of pain he watched the indistinct figures go about their search. He'd seen one transport depart and now only one remained accompanied by two walkers and a couple of flyers circling the crash site.

Lying on one side Carn contemplated his next move. Injured and suffering from shock there was no way he could take immediate action. In addition his continued survival even should he remain undiscovered was by no means guaranteed. Aside from natural predators that might hunt him he had no supplies and no idea where he was. The Emperor may have saved him from certain death in the crash but it would be up to Carn himself to continue to stay alive. He resolved there and then however, that he would not spurn the Emperor's gift, he would not waste His benevolence and make the most of the miracle he had been granted.

Wincing, he reached inside his jacket with his good arm, feeling for the data slate. He pulled the slab from his pocket, gratified that there was no obvious damage, though it was dark enough that he could not see much in any case. After turning it over in his hand a few times feeling for any major damage he was satisfied that somehow it had survived largely intact, though it was obviously scratched and battered from its calamitous journey. He elected not to thumb the activation rune lest the telltale light betray his position, He would have to check it's functionality later. He slipped the slate back into his pocket and as he shifted position the sudden pain from his wounds made him pass out and he slumped into the dust with a dull thud.

It was daylight when Carn awoke, blearily blinking ash and dust from his eyes. The periodic ash storms that beset Worth had left even more of him covered than before and he actually had to dig himself out, prying clumps of blood soaked purplish ash from his person. He was stiff and sore but at least he could move. The search party were long departed and the wreckage of the shuttle little more than smouldering debris in the distance but he was careful with his movements nonetheless, partly for fear of drawing attention to himself and partly from necessity due to his damaged frame. He slowly extracted himself from the ash and dirt and groggily got to his feet, grimacing as his various pains intensified. Upright at last and granted light to see by, he surveyed his surroundings;

He stood in a small clearing among pillars of igneous rock and crystals, walled off by a mighty formation of Basalt. indeed the entire area was almost entirely inaccessible save for a gap up between rock formations no more than ten foot across. The odds for him to be hurled from the crash through that small space were beyond calculation, a few foot to either side and his death would have been a certainty. He looked up and bought his undamaged arm across his eyes to protect himself from the glare of the suns. As he did so the Aquila charm glinted across his field of vision, dangling from his wrist. He bought his arm back down and inspected the golden charm. He didn’t remember looping it around his wrist but there it was, more puzzlingly the chain was fused. He likely could break it but something told him that wasn’t a good idea. He looked up at the gap in the rocks again and then floor around him  where the light rays filtering through the gap formed a crude Aquila on the dusty ground.  The charm keened, echoing off of the walls, resonating in the crystals, piercing his soul.

Alistae Carn had never been the most pious of men. He dutifully worshipped the God Emperor of Man as all good Imperial citizens did, but it was rote, more as an autonomous indoctrinated impulse rather than a deliberate and heartfelt act. His obeisance was as unthinking to him as breathing, an everyday observation. In an instant all that changed. He crashed to his knees, ignoring the pain shooting through his body. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he gave himself to the Emperor utterly in a way that he had never thought was possible, body and soul immediately surrendered to His will. He wept as he gave thanks for his deliverance and continued protection under His Aegis. For Carn knew in that moment that he had purpose, divine purpose, and he would not fail in his given task. He swore to this in all that he was. Framed by the Aquila of divine light and fuelled by Holy intent, Alistae Carn was born renewed.