Secret War: Upon Blood Sands by BAD Agar, Adrassil (i want to read a book .txt) 📖
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When Attelus wasn't training with Raloth and Adelana, he was researching the information that'd been uploaded into the Guncutter's cogitator. Then with Darrance, Helma and Karmen went over his plans. This was all theoretical and subject to change once they reached orbit.
Attelus had planned much himself and was getting a final critique. It was a test he had set himself, and he'd passed, almost. There was a misunderstanding over the angle for the Guncutter's landing, so they had to adjust the landing three hundred and sixty-five metres east of the initial spot. Darrance had taken no small joy in pointing that out. Attelus also hadn't taken into count how Torris and his heavy weapon'd slow them once they were forced to move on foot, as pointed out by Helma. As well, Attelus had planned for Karmen to stay in the guncutter, in orbit with Darrance and Vark. But Karmen argued she wouldn't be able to unleash her full power and could be easier detected and blocked by any enemy psykers, not just that she would be slower to react due to the range. It might have worked for their usual infiltration or undercover operations, but in a warzone, not so much. Also, it was damned obvious Attelus just wanted Vark out of his hair.
Otherwise, the plan was sound.
It was an hour before they were due to leave when Attelus called everyone into the cargo bay. They didn't have to wait long for Raloth and the eldar they'd talked to over the last two weeks to arrive. Adelana was wearing her robes and gave Coulyte an enthusiastic wave, who smiled and waved back.
Following them was Klrith, who still wore his helmet, arms folded. Attelus couldn't help be surprised to see him there.
"Well, this is it," said Raloth. "I have organised an outcast vessel which will be arriving in the system in three weeks to retrieve you."
There were a few frowns but no verbal complaint.
"I'm assuming the warpstorm hasn't a baited?" said Attelus.
Raloth shook his head, "you are correct in that assumption, but I am afraid the news gets worse, Klrith?"
The warlock stepped forward, his impassive gaze wandering over each human in turn.
"We have been trying to look upon the world since we have arrived," said Klrith. "We cannot; there is a fog surrounding it which hides it from us."
"Like a fog of psychic energy?" said Adelana, eliciting a glare from the warlock.
"No," said Klrith. "It is anti-psychic, not psychic."
Attelus furrowed his brow and pursed his lips in confusion as the hushed conversation began, but it was silenced when Attelus raised his hand.
"It has the stench of the god of blood and slaughter strong upon it," said Klrith. "Khorne has infected the planet like a virus. This Sarkeath is not what it once was."
There was a weighted silence as they struggled to take this in.
"Will I be able to use my power on the surface?" said Karmen.
"We think so," said Klrith. "But you will be severely limited. I..."
He trailed off. "I must implore you to turn back; you will find no answers upon its surface. You will find nothing but madness and corruption and death. That I assure you."
Attelus raised an eyebrow, surprised that Klrith would care.
"We've come too far to turn back now," said Torris.
"I thought that you would say that," said Klrith, then he took off his helmet.
To Attelus' shock, Klrith's face was no longer a mass of scars and burned tissue. It was sharp, handsome, even more so than Raloth. Restored.
"I have learned recently that some scars must be put behind or else it will consume you," said Klrith. "I see that most of you have been scarred by your defeat three years ago. It is driving you, and if you go down there, it will consume you. Destroy you."
"We must try," said Verenth. "We have the God-Emperor on our side, and He will help us. We must try!"
Klrith smiled sadly.
"Screw the God-Emperor!" snapped Darrance. "We will get through this by our own strength, our own will. You underestimate us!"
"Perhaps I do," conceded Klrith. "We have seemed to have underestimated you at every turn thus far. So maybe, I am wrong yet again. I wish all of you luck, and may your faith in the god-emperor or your own willpower protect you on the coming days."
With that, he turned and left.
There was a long, sombre silence that followed.
It was Halsin who broke it.
"We will get through this; there is too much riding on us. We have to."
Raloth nodded, and soon the eldar and humans gathered to say their farewells.
"I am proud of you, Attelus," said Raloth. "You have made much progress in so short a time."
Attelus frowned and shrugged. "I wish there was more time. I still have a lot to learn."
"As I have said, there is always more to learn," said Raloth. "I have lived for a thousand of your years, and even still, I know so little. Never has this been made so abundantly clear since the past two weeks. I wish you luck and hope we will meet again one day."
With that, they shook hands.
As the eldar were leaving, Raloth paused and turned back.
"If you wish it, Attelus," he said. "I could have one of my healers heal your scar."
Attelus absently touched it.
"No, thank you, but no," Attelus said. "This scar is there to remind me of what selfishness and cowardice can lead to. I will keep this; I must."
Raloth nodded and left.
For a few seconds, they stood in silence until Attelus clapped his hands.
"Alright! We've still got a crap ton to do, people! Let's get on with it!"
Chapter 7
When they'd seen it out the cockpit window, they thought it some sort of mass mirage. That their eyes, or worse, their minds, were playing a trick on them. It was Attelus who said that it couldn't be either (yes, he was aware of the irony) that seeing was believing.
The sand, it was blood.
As far as the eye could see, the sand had transformed into a deep crimson, reflecting the sunlight almost to a blinding degree. The sun hung in an eerily, beautiful, clear blue sky. That was the most unsettling; the contrast of the brilliant blue and the blood-red, it frayed their nerves, made their minds reel at the impossibility. When they'd gazed on the world from orbit, it'd seemed the brown-beige of a regular desert world.
When Attelus had said it was real, he was only saying what everyone knew. It was blood, the blood of billions, no trillions.
When Attelus had seen it, it'd almost driven him over the edge. But he hid his fear, his recognition. He'd forgotten the disturbing vision Faleaseen had shown him three years ago, of a ruined city bathed in sands of blood and a blue sky. It'd rushed all back. It was sheer willpower that prevented him from falling into a panic attack.
All of them knew, no matter how much they didn't want to accept it, that the entire planet was made of blood sands.
No one was willing to leave the ship, least of all Attelus. Despite this, he was the first to step upon the blood sands.
His breathing into his re-breather was almost deafening. When his boot had landed, he'd expected it would be wet; it wasn't; it felt normal. That just made it more disturbing.
Attelus could feel the eyes on his back of the others watching him from the cargo bay.
"How does it feel?" Karmen's voice erupted over the vox, almost making Attelus jump out of his skin.
"Like, sand, normal sand," Attelus said as he stomped his foot, trying to make it look comical. "There's nothing wrong here!"
Karmen didn't reply, and Attelus turned back to them. Everyone, including Darrance, was there and in full gear. Syn skin bodygloves and cameleoline cloaks. Their faces hid behind re-breathers and inbuilt glarevisors. Only Karmen stood out in her form-fitting gold and white power armour.
No one wanted to breathe the air of Sarkeath, but the Adeptus Mechanicus recently invented their re-breathers. Instead of working like normal re-breathers, with the canisters having to be replaced after a few hours, they recycled carbon dioxide into oxygen; they could continuously use them for two weeks before the filters need replacing, more if used sparingly.
The only thing that set them apart was their builds, what weapons they wielded, and their initials painted on their mask's foreheads. Attelus wore his trademark black flak jacket, so he stood out; he had to, as the leader, he needed to be easily identifiable.
That meant easily identifiable to the enemy, of course, but Attelus didn't mind this. He, unlike his allies, was immortal.
"Poor choice of words," said Adelana as she shuffled her foot. "Something is very wrong here."
Attelus frowned. Now that was the understatement of the millennia, he wanted to say, but kept his mouth shut.
It wasn't long before everyone followed Attelus' lead and first stepped on Sarkeath's surface. For a few minutes, they awkwardly wandered around the ship.
It was Halsin who broke the silence.
"Maybe, maybe we'll acclimatise to it," stammered the medicae.
"And that is exactly what I'm afraid of," said Vark.
Attelus frowned; he couldn't help agree with the Storm Trooper.
"That eldar was right, wasn't he?" said Jelket. "We're going to die or lose our minds, aren't we?"
"Or both," said Helma.
Helma's words sent a sudden wave of anger and determination through Attelus. It quashed his fear and trepidation like a boot crushing an ant.
"No, we're not," said Attelus as he turned and started back to the guncutter. "We've got a mission we're going to complete, and nothing will stop us! We're throne agents! The elite of the elite! Not daemons, not blood sands or even Khorne himself can stand in our way! We've wasted enough time. Now move!"
Attelus' determination seemed infectious as the others were knocked from their stupor and started moving. Only Adelana stayed still, her expressionless attention fixed on him.
"What are you staring at me for?" Attelus said.
Adelana said nothing. She flinched and fell in step with him.
Time to get this over and damn well done with, thought Attelus.
Jelket sat strapped in his seat, fighting the bile rising in his throat and the sickness welling in his guts as the all-terrain vehicle bounded across the blood dunes.
'The blood dunes,' a term coined by Verenth. 'Blood sands,' 'blood dunes' Jelket wasn't sure what term was worse. Verenth sat across from Jelket, his head bounding about and silent. The silence seemed to dominate everything. Trepidation and was thick in the air despite them wearing re-breathers.
Jelket gazed past Verenth, out the small window behind him. He saw one of the bikers, driving beside them, although he couldn't make out who. The bike disturbingly kicked up red dust in its wake.
Attelus, Adelana, Hayden, Delathasi and Helma rode them. While Vark drove the ATV and Torris was at the pintle-mounted storm bolter. Karmen sat in her trance, he couldn't see her face, but every so often, she would twitch and writhe. Obvious even in her power armour.
Jelket frowned. He'd worked
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