This story is an unofficial story based, without permission, on the Warhammer/Warhammer 40,000 intellectual property owned by Games Workshop Ltd.
Varlas stared through the window of his bed chamber. He had just got out of his sweaty clothes he had worn for the three days of his incarceration. He wore a set of black combat pants, brown knee high boots, a blue velvet tunic and his black coat. He stared across the vermillion fields to the west. The crops were turned a purple from the properties in the soil, the leaves of the trees also, and the grass that grew here had been turned back green by the Magus Biologis of the Planetary Governor so that they resembled the grass of Terra.
Somehow his chamber and some of the upper floors had escaped damage. Not that Varlas would have to worry about the damage or repair of the house, as on this day before sunset he was to leave his home world behind. A few select belongings of his were being packed on board his gun cutter: his weapons, armour and keep sakes from his father. His personal retinue of servitors were also being stowed aboard his gun cutter along with a Landspeeder.
Varlas walked down the grand stairs of the house towards the entrance. The stairs were still grand but no longer as resplendent. The pictures that had survived were being packed in plastik containers by the house servants to be transferred to another manor owned by the Caledan nobility. Varlas scoffed to himself. The Caledan family owned several manors on this planet, and several on other planets. Should the worst befall the planet then the manor could be evacuated in short order.
He was sure that the other elders had known he was innocent and just wanted someone upon whom they could relieve their anger. In fact, now he thought of it, perhaps Severus wasn't out maneuvered. He may have been angling for it. With his talents it was very possible. Severus was a magistratum in the courts on Kelnaris. It was he and several others who made business on Kelnaris easy; the Caledan's had always had the Adeptus Arbites in their pocket.
The doors of House Caledan were scorched and blackened, and so they had been removed and replaced with simple wooden doors. The damage would likely take a decade to repair and his uncle was made to be custodian over it until its completion. The family had already paid for Juvenat treatments and bionic implants to ensure he would live to see it finished. It was an added punishment that Severus had requested. The Elder council had agreed to keep the status quo.
Brelor stood outside, beside the Gun Cutter, talking to a Servitor.
"…and you're sure that you've gained permission from Captain Tideman?" he asked impatiently. The Servitor gave him a monotone acknowledgement. Brelor turned on his heel to face Varlas as he sensed him approach.
"As much as it pains me, Varlas, I'm afraid the hour of your departure is nigh. I will miss you, my boy," Brelor said, clasping Varlas in a warrior's grip, wrist to wrist. Brelor looked down to see the Imperial Guard tattoo on his wrist, still as prominent as ever. "May The Emperor guide and keep you, Varlas Caledan. As you keep true to his will and tenets then so shall you be shielded by the wings of the Aquila. The Emperor Protects. Astra Imperator Gloriam," said Brelor, reciting an ancient credo used amongst daemon hunters.
"Emperor be with you also, uncle. Astra Imperator Gloriam," replied Varlas. Brelor hugged him tight, allowing his eyes to close in concentration. Varlas mirrored him. As the barriers between their minds fell all of the memories and emotions of the past few days flashed between them.
Good Luck…Thank You…Is He Ready?…Why Now?…We'll Never Know…Sogor.
Varlas' eyes flicked open as Brelor brought his psychic walls back up again. "Sogor?" Varlas breathed. Brelor put his finger to his lip. "Perhaps in time, nephew. That time is not now."
Varlas was going to question further but realised he had no right. After all, it was his uncle's sacrifice that had allowed him to still yet live. Instead, Varlas just nodded and slowly ascended the loading ramp of his gun cutter as the servitors packed the last of his belongings.
"T-Minus 4 minutes to take off, master. Please be seated before we break atmosphere," came the pilot servitor's voice over the internal vox caster.
Brelor looked at Varlas through the view port as he took a seat. "Captain Tideman of the Warp Diver is currently in orbit. I have paid him a large amount to be your conveyance for the next decade and your vox channel has been given to clients if they require your services," Brelor said psychically. Brelor turned and walked back to the house as the loading ramp rose and the pilot servitor feathered the engines in preparation for take-off.
"Please secure your seat, master. We are about to leave Kelnaris," the Pilot servitor said over the vox caster. Varlas put on his flight harness and locked his seat into position so that he was facing the front of the angular craft. The thrusters kicked in and the gun cutter quickly and smoothly lifted off of the deck and began rotating to match up with its exit vector.
The main engine fired and the Gun Cutter sped off at breakneck speed until it reached terminal velocity. Through the view port Varlas could see the vermillion fields speed by with wild Grox frolicking and chasing one another. Just another day at home, Varlas thought. Home. The word had turned sour in his mouth and his longing to return was unbearable, but to do so would be to waste his second chance. He aimed to make good use of it.
Varlas felt his stomach turn slightly as the gun cutter sharply pitched its nose upwards - a feat most other craft would find impossible. The setting sun turned the sky a light red but was quickly replaced by the dark void of space. Red embers flooded past the viewport like the leaves of the Ashal forest in autumn as the ship broke through the atmosphere.
Varlas said one last goodbye and resolved to focus on his future.
A pict-screen lowered from the ceiling above him to show a live feed from a nose mounted pict-stealer. Straight ahead of the gun cutter was a large vessel, unmistakably Imperial in design except for the one thing he hadn't expected. It was of the Navis Nobilite.
Several details of the ship flooded onto the screen from the gun cutter's cogitator:
+ Emperor's Imperial Vessel Warp Diver - Relieved from duty at the Eye of Terror +
+ Registratum 2468495-89065-1 +
+ Commanding Officer - Lord Admiral Hellbrecht Tideman +
+ Crew - Estimated 257 hands, exact number unknown +
+ Weapons Load - Classified by order of Navis Nobilte +
+ Service Record Length - In Excess of three centuries +
+ Current whereabouts - Unknown +
This was going to be interesting to say the least. Varlas hoped that news of his excommunication had not been passed along to the Captain; he would hate to find himself sucking vacuum because of some over-zealous follower of the Imperial Doctrine.
Hive World Terra