Loyality Designation
Fidelitas Scindo
Primary Battle Company Composition
- Company Command:
- Paladin Malachi Jadesong
Commander Logs (Reverse Chronological Order)
“Paladin…” The mass of bodies was ripped apart, blood soaked pieces of ceramite tossed aside as Azekiel’s massive powerfist dug through the aftermath of the vicious battle.
“Paladin!” Azekiel’s voice boomed again as he found the richly decorated artifer armor worn my Malachai.
Choking and spitting up blood, life surged through Malachai’s veins. His adrenaline pumps fully activated upon returning consciousness.
“Azekiel, Azekiel,” Malachai gasped for air as the massive Contemptor Dreadnought pulled him up, “We won I take it?”
“We took the day, yes,” the deep booming voice of the dread replied as an explosion rung out on the other side of the battlefield. Atreus Deluciun, the Leviathan, was tearing into a fellow Dark Angel’s Contemptor.
“Tell the men to stand down. Collect our dead and wounded, allow our brothers to claim their as well,” Malachai’s senses were narrowing and his keen vision returning. He was seeing some movement among his Veterans and Interemptors that got overwhelmed early in the battle. Clearly Azekiel had seen them fall and leapt from his assigned ruin to their aid.
Azekiel sent the command through the vox, apparently to Atreus’ disappointment. The Leviathan pulled the claws from his siege claw free from the near death contemptor and sat him next to the nearby ruined building, “You fought well brother, but I will not spare you next time.”
All in all, it had been a good fight. The Scythes of the Emporer met their first foe, a Dark Angel contingent sent to put their brothers in check. This was going to be a hard war. Malachai was furious he had failed his first challenge. Was he truly the person needed for this venture. His resolve was shaken, but not destroyed. Grabbing his Terranic Greatsword up from the ground and standing to his feet with Azekiel’s help he looked up at the burning sky, “We continue. Call for the transports.”
“Are you sure, Paladin?” Arakiel Ezekos’ voice boomed, despite the Contemptor speaking quietly.
“Yes Brother, a surprise to me as well,” Malachai spoke back, still staring at the vox. A message from Terra, supposedly from the Emperor himself. The Paladin of the Hekatonystika turned to his friend, “This sets us on a course we were surely unprepared for.”
“And surely in contention with even our battle brothers, the whole First,” Arakiel had been the finest of Paladins before suffering a terrible injury at the hands of the Rangdon. Now, forever entombed in the Contemptor Dreadnought suit.
“It is a command from the Emperor,” Malachai JadeSong said defiantly. His unit, the Scythes of the Emperor, have been devoutly loyal to their father. One of the first units established in the First Legion, they were seen as unit willing to do anything the Emperor required, often doing missions that their brothers found themselves incapable of doing. Yet the Scythes were always victorious. Malachai had been leader since the beginning. His word, his actions, always the finest amongst the whole legion. Though he began his service on Terra during the Unifcations Wars, even prior to the Lion taking control of the legion, as a Tactical Squad leader, his prowess quickly earned him advancement up the ranks. Now, he found himself at the head of an entire unit, the Sythes of the Emperor. And always at his side was his trusted friend, Arakiel. Once accepted into the ranks of the Paladins of Hekatonystika, Malachai found himself surrounded by knowledge unseen. And top of that knowledge, was a book his mentor wrote, beseeching the Emperor as not just the greatest of all humans, but a god, immortal and perpetual.
“It comes to us then Malachai, you know the Scythes stand with you,” Arakiel said, carefully placing the now unpowered Gravis Fist upon Malachai’s shoulder.
Malachai read the command again, “Most loyal of sons, Malachai. I require this of you, take your unit to the Sierra Caerulea. There, you will find only foes, both Loyal and Traitor alike. Let none stand in your way. There is an artifact there, required to win this war of the greatest heresy. You believe me to be a god, and though I loathe that description, I understand your intent. Perhaps my request will shake you of the devotion, though I doubt it. It requires my whole being, defending Terra until the end. Find this for me, help win this war.”
“So be it, vox the The Resolve and distribute my orders to the men, we leave tonight at 2100,” Malachai spoke. The Emperor was a god, he knew it true, but even gods need their Scythes.
“Cyphus will be especially pleased,” Arakiel’s laughter echoed from the walls.
