Secret War: Upon Blood Sands by BAD Agar, Adrassil (i want to read a book .txt) 📖

After Jeurat Garrakson had died on Omnartus, Arlathan had taken up teaching Vex how to fight; in the sporadic times, they could both get the time. Arlathan, over the past three years, had grown to think of Vex as a little brother of sorts. He reminded Arlathan of himself when he was young, arrogant, talented and about as coordinated as a drunken Grox.

Arlathan had worked through that and became the top hand to hand combatant in his Magistratum precinct. It'd taken him a few years of constant training, but he got there; Vex still had a while yet, even after so long.

Or maybe Arlathan was just a terrible teacher? He quickly dismissed the thought, as a low life Marshall, he'd taught his fair share of recruits, and they'd all done pretty well.

Vex visibly relaxed. "S-sorry," the kid stammered.

Arlathan smiled and shook his head.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" asked Kollath gruffly. "Shouldn't you be at your little Cogitator typing away, with your skinny, girly little fingers? That's where you belong, isn't it?"

Arlathan glared at the Stormtrooper sergeant. "Shut it, Kollath," he growled.

"Or you'll what, pube face?" said Kollath. "Shoot me? My arse has a better beard than you, by the way."

"I outrank you, remember, sergeant," said Arlathan. "So shut up."

"Well, I outrank the both of you," said Enandra; her voice was soft but cut over the din like a powered blade cutting through paper. "So both of you shut up. Oh, and Kollath. Vex has every right to be here, he might not be seeing his friends for a long time, so of course, he'll see them off."

Kollath grimaced and muttered, "he even has friends? News to me."

This elicited another glare from Arlathan, and he wondered for the thousandth time what Inquisitor saw in him.

Jelcine placed the wide-brimmed hat on her head and asked, "Arlathan, how do I look?"

Arlathan opened his mouth to answer but quickly stopped himself, knowing he'd just gush. To Enandra, it'd just come off as arse kissing, and if the Inquisitor truly hated anything, it was sycophants. Them and Amalathians and the Ecclesiarchy and Chaos and mindless fanatics, the list was long.

"You look like the embodiment of all the Ordo Hereticus stands for, ma'am," said Arlathan, after some thought, and it was the truth.

A small smile slowly crossed her full lips, "I hope you are aware of the irony of your words, Arlathan."

"I am," said Arlathan. "But it doesn't make it any less true, ma'am."

It was then that Attelus and his team walked into the hanger.

In the lead was the young man himself; he walked with his usual confident, casual, graceful gait, indicative of his status as an extremely skilled swordsman and martial artist. This despite carrying three big, bulky equipment bags. One on his back and one in each hand. It was easy to forget just how strong Attelus was due to his slight height and slender build. He was the only one smiling.

Next was Adelana and Halsin. The young, lovely red head's face was as unreadable as always. She wore a grey syn-skin bodyglove and a pack on her back almost as large as one of the three Attelus carried. Slung on her left shoulder was her signature weapon, a silenced bolter with a wire stock attachment; she too was far stronger than she looked, being of similar height and build to Attelus. The irony wasn't lost on Arlathan that an agent with a more subtle skill set would use such an unsubtle weapon.

Halsin looked not quite as calm; he carried not just one pack but many pouches of medical equipment that hung awkwardly from his webbing. They would've added a lot more weight on the poor young man's thin frame, this on top of an auto gun. Even many hardened Imperial guard veterans would suffer under such weight, which made the young medicae's physical fitness level all the more impressive.

After them was Karmen Kons and Vark, Karmen carried just as much as Attelus and just as easily, but this was because she was wearing power armour of similar form-fitting design to the Inquisitor. It was coloured a dull grey and withheld much of the more fanciful decoration of the Inquisitor's, but that didn't detract from the aura of power and intimidation the armour gave off. A psychic hood hung over her head. Karmen Kons was easily the most powerful and skilled psyker the organisation possessed. There was a rivalry between her and Enandra's personal psyker, Helva, but it was mostly one-sided. She'd been gifted the power armour because of that extreme power and strength; it would also protect her during the many times Karmen would leave her body in her incorporeal form.

Vark was in full Stormtrooper carapace; his rebreather mask hung from his helmet. He carried his Hell gun with the casual calm only the truly professional was capable of, his small blue eyes darting anywhere and everywhere, soaking every detail. Despite still being on a ship full of friendlies, he was already in full-on bodyguard mode. As much as Arlathan had his misgivings of the ex-mercenary's personality and beliefs, he couldn't deny he was skilled and experienced beyond belief.

Following was Hayden and Jelket. The reason why Jelket had been assigned as Hayden's guard and spotter instead of the sniper's apprentice was that their cult had called Serlia back. At Hayden's and Enandra's recommendation, she had been deemed good enough to have finished her apprenticeship. Once she'd completed her trials, she would be re-assigned under Enandra again.

That was if she completed the trials; apparently, they were as hard as hell. Just after the destruction of Omnartus, Attelus had to take them too, and even he had struggled to pass. However, he'd never supplied Arlathan with any detailed summary.

Hayden was weighed down even more than Attelus and Karmen, although he struggled noticeably. The huge man wore a black bodyglove, equipment bristled off his webbing, and he carried two bags in each hand and had his Long-las and a knapsack slung on his broad back.

Jelket, like Vark, wore his full Stormtrooper carapace but carried a Long Las, yet on top of that, he also carried a Hellgun and charge pack. To anyone else carrying both weapons without power, armour would've been awkward, to say the least, but the ex-guardsman somehow could manage it, easily in fact, being able to change from one weapon to the other in the blink of an eye. It made him a very adaptable soldier, perhaps even more so than Hayden. But this also made him incapable of carrying much else. (hence why Hayden was carrying five bags)

Just after was Torris and Verenth. Torris had stubbornly refused to wear Inquisitorial carapace, foregoing it for the lighter but not as strong, dark blue Arbites carapace. He carried his Melta gun and slung his shotgun under his left arm. On his back was surely the largest backpack of all one that contained the igniter fluid drums for the high powered tank-killing weapon he carried. As usual, Torris looked angry, his brow furrowed, brown eyes fixed forward. His lantern jaw so strong that he rivalled Kollath in manliness.

Verenth was a complete contrast to Torris, both had opposite backgrounds, and he wore no armour at all. Still electing to wear his gang's leathers back on Omnartus, the insignia on his back. The tall, lanky young man was also laden with equipment, her face a mask of intense concentration.

Last it was Delathasi and Helma.

Delathasi wore a black bodyglove, like Hayden. Her twin mono-blades sheathed on her back. The tall, long-limbed apprentice walked with an easy grace belying her lankiness despite carrying another large bag and struggling to keep it from dragging on the floor. Delathasi's attention was set downward, her soft features contorted with strain. It was a shame to Arlathan; she would've been beautiful if it wasn't for her pugilist's nose and very noticeable acne.

Arlathan glanced at Vex, who stood entranced by the girl with that thought. Arlathan didn't know if the young assassin felt the same, but he couldn't help feel sorry for Vex.

Again, Helma wore full Stormtrooper carapace and walked with so much confidence it almost became haughtiness. She easily carried two huge bags and had her Hell gun slung casually over her left shoulder. She was strong, easily one of the strongest women in the organisation; Arlathan had decided a long time ago to never mess with her.

Following them were seven servitors carrying the bulk of their equipment.

The crewmen and other servitors moving throughout the hanger stopped and stepped aside, allowing them a way through. Such was the respect they commanded.

Attelus approached and stopped, not even having to drop his huge bags to bring his hands together and make the sign of the Aquila at his chest. Everyone else halted behind him, and there was a collective sigh as Delathasi, Halsin, Verenth, and Jelket dropped their bags.

"Mamzel Enandra, Interrogator Arlathan, Sergeant Kollath, Vex," he said. "It's good to see you."

Enandra smiled. "You do know we have more Servitors to carry your equipment, right, Attelus?

Attelus shrugged. "A bit of strength training has never hurt anyone," he said.

"Yes, it has," said Helma.

Attelus just pouted and furrowed his brow.

"Well," said Enandra. "This will be your first mission leading such a large team; you nervous?"

He shrugged. "Well, if you hadn't assigned me so many people who hated me, I'd be a bit less nervous."

"That's understandable," said Enandra. "Just don't let that nervousness overtake you, and you'll do fine. I have great faith in you, Attelus. I wouldn't have made you mission leader if I did not."

"I won't," he said with admirable conviction. "There's too much at stake here, mamzel, and thank you."

"Good," said Enandra with a nod. "Good to hear that."

She pulled her gaze away from the assassin and looked over his compatriots, meeting each pair of eyes in turn. Arlathan followed her gaze, as did Attelus.

What she saw caused Enandra to sigh. "I can see that many of you are not happy to be assigned this mission, and I'll be honest, I sympathise. There are surely varying reasons why you feel like this, and again, I'm sure they are good reasons."

She paused and began to pace; Arlathan watched her, enraptured; her skill as an orator wasn't rivalled. Well, except for one, Inquisitor Brutis Bones, also of the Ordo Hereticus, was almost as good.

"Some might feel that I am exiling you, getting rid of you; that is not true," she said, her armour joints whirring with every step. "Some of you might feel that I send you away because I think you incompetent or expendable; that as well is not true. In fact, that is the complete opposite reason."

Enandra paused again, meeting the eyes of everyone once more. "I send you because all of you, bar none, have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are among the best. Not just the best in my organisation, but amongst the best of the Ordo Calixis. Time and time again, you have proven your skill and ability and reliability and excelled in your field of expertise."

She stopped her pacing. "Individually, all of you have made great achievements. Attelus! You have killed Space Marines! Not just one, not just two, but three! Three! Or four, depending on who you ask. I couldn't even claim such a feat! Adelana! You managed to infiltrate a Slaaneshi cult and kill their leader and slip away hours before the cultists even had a clue what happened! Verenth! You have headshot an enemy from two hundred metres on the draw! Torris! You managed to single-handedly hold off dozens and dozens of attacking cultists for hours, allowing for Imperial Guard reinforcements to drop in and finish it!"

Enandra trailed off and smiled. "If I stood here and listed all of your achievements, I would be here for hours, but I think you get my point. If you could perform such feats alone, imagine how many you could achieve together. I believe, no, I know that you will take down Etuarq