#oc: pallius

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

The Light of Truth

Author's note: More of the Primaris Boys in Husbandry. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Pallius, Cedric & Olivar. Thank you to @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for letting me borrow Khopesh. Thank you to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Ghosk.

Warning: Character death. Characters fighting. Bloodshed. Uh. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Cedric gets a message. A brother is nearly rescued, another is nearly lost. Petras reveals his true colors to more than just Primaris Marines.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Cedric's wrist mounted vox gets a communication ping.

[I am uncertain how much time I have left before I return to the embrace of the Omnissiah.] Castiel sends in his message through agonizing, and coughs blood from his lungs raggedly. There are some spots of blood, mucus and the mechanical fluids used to keep him alive that spatter on his vox. Ugh, despite how much the Mechanicum has enhanced him, he’s still so wretchedly fleshed.

After a few wet ragged coughs Castiel painfully continues, his voice more staticy [but I don't want to die without letting someone know the truth. Embedded in this message is a holo recording of a meeting between Chaplain Mephestil Petras of the Black Templars and a Chaos Marine… as well as his reactions to my queries on the subject. He murdered me. I hope this gets to you. The God Emperor Protects and provides for us all.]

Castiel had also sent the holo recording of Petras going too far in his punishment. When Petras finds and attacks him on Ancient Terra he's able to record some of it, as well as his agonizing cries as he tries to escape, but dies to Petras again. Castiel had managed to have his eyes- which were cybernetic to record Petras’s words and actions- and the recording cuts off after he finishes dying.

He had the message on a delayed sending, hoping that Petras wouldn't notice the vox message. Tied to send when twelve minutes after he flatlined, and he sent coordinates of where he lay dead, or so he hoped. Castiel had wanted to send it to one of his fellow Black Templars primaris Marines.

His last thoughts are Prayers to the Omnissiah that his message will get through to one of them. That Castiel’s death won’t be a waste, that at least someone will have this proof. 

Castiel knew in his hearts that it likely wouldn’t do anything much. Petras has killed Primaris Marines before with only a slap on the wrist. But at least it is something and the First borns will be interested in consorting with Chaos. Even though his life is worthless to them.

~

Cedric reads the written message, his mouth going dry, as a slow-burning fury ignites his hearts once again. He mutes the video, before playing it, as he is currently sitting down in the clinic’s staff cafeteria, and he has little doubt that the sounds of pain and misery will immediately attract the attention of everyone who could hear it.

Two. That’s two, in less than twenty-four hours. While Mattias wasn’t dead, he had been placed in a medically induced coma, to reduce the amount of movement that the young Astartes was capable of doing, as the injury to his spinal column could be operated on and treated, but was very delicate and any movements could potentially permanently render his legs unusable without spinal prosthetics or other augments that would be incredibly difficult to acquire on Ancient and Holy Terra. 

He knows that Anrir and the other Night Lords are incredibly dangerous. Its just for some reason they have decided to drag him protectively under their bat wings, rather than tear him to shreds with their talons. For now at least.

Claude and Khopesh are away from where Ghosk and the others are setting the stage for the ‘fight’ between ‘raven guard’ Anrir (or whatever name he’ll be using) and the Claw will ‘attack’ him.

Claude and Khopesh watch through binoculars as the staged fight happens- and Captain Kasz Kalleran takes the bait and falls for the trap, hook, line and sinker. His Captain did enjoy it when he could be painted as the hero of the stories he tells, regardless of the truth of the matter.

The Claw gets ‘chased off’ by the flock of Ravens who surround the wounded ‘bird’ and help patch him up. Claude closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. Anrir is far older than he is, and knows what he’s doing. Had chosen to do this- had planned for contingencies and decided on this course of action.

Claude is distracted by a vox text message he gets from Cedric and reads it with a concerned frown on his face.  [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

He sent a message to Claude via vox. [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

[On my way.] Claude responds. [Where do you want to meet?]

Claude frowns, concern churning in his gut as he sends a message to Ramiel about Cedric’s request. Ramiel responds immediately to his message and sends one to Cedric as well.

“I have to go- Cedric needs my help with something,” Claude informs Khopesh.

“Have fun with that,” Khopesh says, “I’ll check on the others, see how they are doing after the ‘fight’ with the Raven Guards.”

Claude nods, “sounds good.”

[The park nearest to The Clinic. We should be able to talk freely there.] Cedric texted both Ramiel and Claude. 

While he waited for them to respond, he walked over to where Olivar was currently sitting, scowling into the bowl of food in front of him. “You know it’s not going to leap out at you and try to murder you. What’s on your mind?”

“You told me that He is on Ancient Terra, too, right? Why the fuck were we sent here, back into his reach? Unless He is from before He started…” Olivar swallowed hard, a low, wordless growl leaving him. “Should we be keeping what The Bastard has done to us a secret? Your mentor did not tolerate his grox-shite, at least when it came to you, no matter what The Shithead said you did, or didn’t do. Surely there’s got to be at least one Firstborn marine you can talk to about all of this shit.”

“... There are a couple I’ve told some of what’s happened to. In M42. They kind of bullied me into telling them, but given what they’re like, I really should have realized that they were going to do so, sooner or later. Do you remember what I told you about Bruders Roland and Arnault?” Cedric asked, rocking back on his heels a little. 

“... Yeah… One’s a battle brother,” Olivar says, “The other’s an Emperor’s Champion… something about Bonding? Bonded?”

“... Trust me, the Bonding and Bonded conversation is for when you are better healed and we aren’t doing emergency scrambling. But I think… If you, Ramiel  and Pallius agree… I think I might ask both of them to help me lodge a formal complaint against Petras, to get some kind of official record as to the grox-shite and cruelty he is capable of being known publicly.”

“That sounds vaguely ominous Ced,” Olivar says, his scowl shifting a little. He scoffs a little, “didn’t we try that before and were told ‘stop being whiny little bitch and take the ‘character building’ lumps and suck it up?’ Why would that change since we’re here?”

“Bonds are wonderful things, I promise! From what I’ve seen, they are good. Also, that was by other firstborn brothers in M42. I told them that Petras killed a dozen primaris marines in M42 and that both of them immediately swore to kill him. I entirely believe that they meant that, too.”

“I mean… you are lovable Ced,” Olivar says slightly teasingly, “And Apothecaries are hard to come by. Of course they want to protect you.”

Cedric huffed a little and shook his head “I don’t think it’s just because I’m an Apothecary. They were furious at the thought of younger brothers being killed for existing. Not that I’m advocating for Chaplain Petras to die, just to… To be brought before a tribunal and made to answer for his crimes.” 

By the god-emperor, does the wounded fury and sorrow howling in his hearts want Petras dead. Not just dead, but killed slowly, painfully. To have the fucker be made to beg and plead for mercy, for an ounce of compassion and be shown exactly as much as he gave Cedric’s Brothers. 

None. 

But that path led towards falling to Khorne, or perhaps Slaanesh, depending on the way he went about it. So formal sanctioning it was. For his own safety, and the safety of others.

“I wonder how Justice and punishment are delivered on Ancient Terra? I think that’s something we should find out, before we do anything or say anything.” Olivar scratches his cheek, “hm… let me think on it. Unless the Bastard does something… Bad here.”

“He’s killed a Primaris Tech marine. I just received Castiel’s dying vox-messages and video-footage of his murder.” Cedric answered, shaking his head a little. “Mattias - another Primaris Marine, is currently under anesthesia and in surgery because of the complications from Petras beating the fuck out of him yesterday.”

“Fucking bastard, you have convinced me, I’ll talk to who ever it is about his discipline and punishment methods.” Olivar hisses, “I remember Cassie- quiet, dutiful and always helped with weapons and armor maintenance. He was so happy to be chosen as a Tech Marine. He loved to talk about a certain kind of cog wheel.”

Cedric nodded, saying “I’m going to check in with Pallius first, then Ramiel. To see how they both feel about going forwards with what we know of petras’ crimes. I will be taking point on this. As the Apothecary of the group… And the one who survived longest in M42 before being sent to Ancient Terra, this is my duty and my burden.” With that he nodded, standing up and heading over to where Pallius was sitting and eating lunch.

~

“Pallius, I’ve run this by Olivar, and I have his vote. I won’t reveal it to you as I don’t want to influence your decision either way. But I… I am asking if you want me to come forward to certain firstborn marines - Brothers Roland and Arnault of the Black Templars, and Captain Ash’val for certain about what Chaplain Petras has done to us. He’s killed at least one Primaris Marine on Ancient Terra. He’s badly wounded Mattias, who is currently in surgery.” Cedric explained, his voice low and quick he gave the other a brief summary of what Castiel had sent to him.

“... If our words and scars can help keep others safe,” Pallius says quietly, “then… then I shall speak of the shameful things.”

“It’s not your shame, what he had done to you, Pallius. It is his. Please, you must remember this.” Cedric urged his brother, his hearts caught in the back of his throat. 

Pallius ducks his head a little at the others words as his eyes become wet and he rubs the grit from his eyes. “I… I’ll try to.”

“Thank you, Pallius. You have Dorn’s own courage.” Cedric murmured, gently pressing his forehead to Pallius’, as an affectionate gesture.

“Keep safe Ced,” Pallius says, closing his eyes and leaning into  Cedric a little, returning the gesture as much as he can. “... You have Dorn’s own courage as well Brother.”

Cedric nodded, walking out of the cafeteria as he read up on what had been sent to his wrist-mounted vox, mind whirling. 

[I got the message from Claude. I’ll be at the park in seven minutes. Do I need to get Catius or Oleandros? Or have them run a Distraction?] Ramiel sends Cedric a text vox message, adding another statement. [Eta five minutes, told Chaplain Bo’shan I was taking my lunch break. He seemed happy about that.]

[I will be there in five minutes.] Claude says a thought occurs to him and he asks [Do you want me to get Jophi?]

[... I  don’t want to involve all of the others just as of yet. Any more of this, and I request that we please speak in person. Neither of you are in trouble.] Cedric vox-texted back, making sure to send the last sentence, so as to not worry them too much. He hoped.

[Wilco.] Ramiel replies. He is worried- just what is going on? He wonders what Cedric has found out or wants to discuss. 

He had to go by Reclusiarch Feldarim’s office to get to where he was going- the other watched him go with a casual glance. But as he didn’t seem too upset, the other let him pass without harassing him. Which gives him a sense of relief, as Chaplain Bo’shan had lightly pressed him for details, and he’d said that he was meeting up with Cedric and Claude for lunch.

He’s able to excuse himself and grabs something to eat. And then ensures to grab enough for Claude and Cedric. Both of them are terrible at remembering to eat. He also grabs some of the homemade ice cream as a sweet treat, just in case the conversation needs such a thing.

Claude replies [Understood- I also have some… interesting information on Justice and Punishment that The Night Lords talked about for Ancient Terra and the Alliance.]

[Good, I have questions about that, which will help in deciding in which way things will go. Whether we go the official route, or take care of trash on our own.] Cedric texted back.

~

He must have one hell of a scowl on his face, because the baseline humans who he passes by all scramble to get the hell out of his way. While normally this would make him feel guilty, especially as the baselines who live on the base are either bonded to one of the marines who lives on base… Or they have nowhere else to live and they work jobs on base in order to pay in kind for housing and food. 

Zariel had heard the whispers and more loud complaints and worried about Fierce Angry Scowling Astarte in black and white scrubs. So he had sent a message to Ash’val, Feldarim, and after a moment’s hesitation, to Hura. Just in case.

“Cedric,” Zariel calls out carefully, “... You know I am here for you, if you need or want to talk about something that’s bothering you. If you want to talk.”

“... I acknowledge this. However, I need to speak with a couple of others. We will decide a few things and then figure out who to reach out to. You are, I will say, on the short list for the… Issue that needs handling.” Cedric responded, falling back on formal wording in order to hopefully get the teal Ultramarine to back off a little. He didn’t have the time to try and shake off a Teal tail. 

“Very well,” Zariel says with a nod, watching the younger Astarte move. “I am honored to have such trust.”

He decides that it would be best not to press him too much. After all- he didn’t want to rile the other and send him into hiding again. The fact that young Claude had managed to teach a Black Templar how to be stealthy and good at it had been… more than a little distressing… As impressed as he’d been after his hearts had stopped feeling like they were going to burst from stress.

Cedric nods brusquely before marching the rest of the way out of the base, still scowling and not in the least bit attempting to hide his expression in the least. 

Zariel also rolls a thought or two in his head. Whatever it was that Cedric had told Roland and Arnault had made the two older Black Templars exceedingly angry.  So he was going to wait before sending a message to the older ones about this… Newest thing.

~

Cedric spotted Ramiel and Claude in one of their favorite spots in the nearby park. The brief stretch of his legs, and outside did help him calm down slightly, though his nerves - and his fury - were still jangling just beneath the surface of his skin. He waved over at the two of them, attempting to smile “Hey… Claude, Ramiel.”

Claude had helped Ramiel set up the basket of food, a blend of baseline human and Astarte food and drinks. They had set it up on one of the wooden benches that was rated for Astartes to sit on safely with the table neatly set out, with a picnic cover neatly tucked around to keep things a bit cleaner.

“Hey Cedric,” Ramiel says, “I thought since it was about lunch time, and you had a Conversation to speak with us, a picnic would help the Look of things. Regardless of what is spoken about.”

“Nice to see you Ced,” Claude says with a grin.

Claude heads to the area specified by Cedric and helps Ramiel set up the picnic that the other had decided to grab. It was a good cover- and they’d get to eat something while they talk about the Urgent matter.

At least on the outset it would look like the three of them were enjoying lunch and a picnic, which would have curious eyes not think anything Suspicious is going on. Not that he thinks that Cedric is doing anything particularly troubling. But it helps throw off any potential watchers, just in case.

 Claude wonders if the Claw is encouraging his paranoia and suspicious tendencies before shaking his head a little and greeting Cedric. He sees the thunderous scowl on the other’s face and suspects that whatever he’s going to say is not going to be great.

He’s proven right as he listens, upset at what Cedric has learned. He goes over the details of what he remembers of the conversation with Khopesh about Justice and Punishments. Ramiel and Cedric agree to speak with Khopesh in public and he sends another message and Khopesh arrives swiftly.

“... A picnic does sound good.” Cedric relented, plopping down next to his Brother, leaning into his familiar warmth. He looked at the spread of food and drinks, deliberately focusing on what he could smell and see before him, in a desperate attempt to calm down, at least a little. 

Ramiel hums one of the prayer hymns that he knows helps Cedric calm down, Claude slowly reaching out and holding one of the Apothecary Apprentic’s hands and lightly squeezing it. Claude joins in on the song, humming the chorus and harmonizing with them, the words whispered in High Gothic.

He hummed along to the hymn, allowing the calming focus to come over him. Anger had it’s place on the battlefield, but too much of it was dangerous. Not only to oneself, but to everyone around the one lost to fury. He squeezed Claude’s hand back gently, managing a rueful smile “I have bad news, worse news, questions, and a proposal, contingent upon the answer to those questions. What do you want to hear first?”

“What’s the worst news?” Claude and Ramiel ask at the same time, bracing themselves.

Claude looks around them glancing at his brothers as he takes some of the bread and spreads jame and nut butter on bread- as well as sprinkling some Astarte nutri-paste and cutting it into thirds for the three of them to eat. 

Claude cast his senses, Warp-related and not to ensure that they weren’t being listened to. Glad that no one was, either through technology or warpy senses he lets go of his crackling humming power and focuses on Cedric’s words. He takes a bite of food to keep the spots of darkness out of his vision.

“Tech-Marine Castiel of the Black Templars was killed earlier today, at the hands of Chaplain Captain Petras. When Tech Marine Castiel became aware that he was going to die, as there was no one to intercede on his behalf, he sent me all of the information he had on the chaplain in question, sending it on a delay to hopefully not arouse suspicion from his murderer.” Cedric revealed, doing his best to keep his voice a low, emotionless monotone. He failed spectacularly, as his voice cracked. He paused, taking a sip from one of the glasses of lemonade before continuing “Brother Mattias of the Black Templars is currently in surgery due to the complications from the beating he received, allegedly from Chaplain Petras, according to the Hydra who brought him into the clinic late last night.”  

“God Emperor curse him,” Ramiel swears softly, before flinching as he realizes the words that had come out of his mouth. “He’s… Perhaps not escalating, but he’s continuing to do what he did back in M42.”

“... He knows he died for Challenging the High Marshal,” Claude says with a frown, his eyes flashing teal as he thinks “... For killing and purging Primaris… and he’s…doing it here when Astartes number far fewer. He’s … not likely to change his ways.”

“Ramiel, I have asked Pallius and Olivar, but I will with-hold their votes until you tell me what you want to do. Should we come forward to certain firstborn marines, and tell them about what Petras has done, both in M42, and on Ancient Terra, or would you rather we handle this ourselves?” Cedric asked, his voice shaking a little, but stubborn ferocity beat in his chest. He would deal with this fucker, one way or the other.

Ramiel reaches over- carefully telegraphing his movements as he gives his brother a side hug. Claude is on Cedric’s other side and does the same thing. The three of them gently hugged each other for a moment. Ramiel gathers his thoughts, which is hard because they keep scattering in a thousand-thousand different directions as he thinks over the other’s words. 

“I think,” Ramiel says, his voice cracking a little, he coughs and then takes a sip of the lemonade laced with hydration rations, “I think, we should go to the First borns, see what they do… if it’s … unsatisfactory …. We can… handle him after the fact.”

Cedric side-hugs Ramiel back, trembling a little with the force of the emotions running rampant within him. He focuses on Claude “You mentioned that the Night Lords spoke of how Astartes dealt Justice in this time period? Please explain to the best of your abilities. Your answers will help me decide whether or not I will come forward with the information to whoever I’m supposed to in an official capacity… Or if I just ask Arnault and Roland if he would please help me murder a bastard. They are both already aware of Petras’ crimes in M42 and swore to kill him.” Their vehement and immediate declarations of Murder had been… Cedric swallowed a little. They had been more gratifying than the young Apothecary had wanted to admit.

“So Khopesh and the Claw of Night Lords knows about why certain… First Born Brothers in M42 don’t like us… And they find that reasoning stupid, foolish and wasteful. Claude nods, “That- actually is one method of Justice that the rest of the chapter’s can’t mess with. Justice for crimes done, unless it’s inter-chapter stuff, or there is a request to intercede on the behalf of the victims, is done in-chapter. Unless their crimes are bad enough that an Example needs to be made.”

Claude gathers his thoughts and pulls out the data slate and reads the notes he’d taken, the conversation that he had with Khopesh. He hands the data slate over so they can read about Hunting- and how the worst of the Astarte criminals, like serial killers, are handed over to the Night Lords, which is one of the worst punishments that can happen to a person. How the Hunt is declared- what happens during it, and after.

“There is a precedent,” Claude says, licking his lips a little, “where if an Astarte is killing other Astarte- that their Chapter, at first are the ones to handle them, but if for whatever reason they can’t or won’t… They tend to be handed over to the Night Lords. I… uh… asked some Questions- and Khopesh seemed… excited about the idea of a Hunt. I think… no, I know he reported the conversation we had about Justice and Punishment to the Claw Leader- Anrir, who’s an Apothecary- who’s older than Hura.”

“... Petras wasn’t the only one killing Primaris Marines in M42. Nor was he the only Firstborn Black Templar to be doing so.” Cedric murmured, his voice low and quiet. “As much as I want… As much as I want to raise bolter and blade against the fucker myself, alongside whoever else wants to kill him. I don’t… I don’t think that simply killing Petras will ensure long-term protection of our fellow Primaris Marines. I will ask Arnault and Roland their opinions on this… But…”

“There are other punishments,” Claude says, “They talked about.. Flaying… among other things. Some. Very graphic descriptions that I won’t go into detail about right now, as well as having the people who were hurt by the person, to either participate in the person’s punishment actively, or have a hand in deciding how they are punished. There is, unfortunately, a need to gather evidence and proof of crimes more than verbal witness evidence.”

“Would the recorded audio-visual recordings of a now-murdered marine be enough evidence?” Cedric asked bluntly. 

“... Will you allow me to ask Khopesh that?” Claude says, “I think so- but I’d need his opinion, he’s been here longer, and knows more about Justice and the legal framework that the Astartes have developed here.”

Cedric nodded “Go for it. You’re the one with contact with him.”

Claude sends Khopesh a vox text [Please don't run to Anrir or the others about this quite yet. But hypothetically, if Ced- er someone had Audio/visual proof about Cas- er I mean, someone else, HYPOTHETICALLY being murdered by Pet- er a third someone else, that is currently,  hypothetically on Ancient Terra right now, and has a history of murdering primaris marines, what would happen? And this person that hypothetically nearly murdered Mat- I mean someone else as well.]

Khopesh hears a pinging noise and looks down at his vox, he can’t stop the grin that grows on his face and thinks to himself, ‘Bingo!’

“You seem pleased, something good?” Ghosk notes, lightly pressing the younger member of the Claw for more information if the other wanted to share.

“... Not yet- but soon. Hopefully.” Khopesh says. He’s not going to tell Anrir or the other members of the Claw yet. Per Claude’s request, for now. But finally. He’s glad that Claude is finally trusting them, or at least him more. 

“Alright,” Ghosk replies with a nod. “Keep in mind we can only back you up if we know what’s going on.”

“Yes Ghosk,” Khopesh says with a nod. He does send a message back to Claude. [A Primaris Killer- or an Astarte killer, like the one you texted me about would be setting himself up for execution. Especially if he has a heinous list of crimes and it’s clear that he’s not stopping.]

Claude responds swiftly to the message [Thank you for the information.]

Khopesh sends another message to Claude that [you all can argue for the Primaris killer being an ongoing and unremorseful threat. So they can Hopefully get the maximum punishment of execution by Night Lords. Or depending on the Chapter preferred executioners.]

[Thank you for that- so far as we know, he’s only gone after Black Templars.] Claude responds. [Knowing him… he might escalate to other Primaris if he comes across them. He’s got a nasty temper.]

[But even without that. The chapter the murderer is a part of would be Heavily pressured to either remove their own bad actor, or turn him over so he can be removed.]  Khopesh sends the message to Claude, and he is getting excited.

Khopesh is excited that Claude trusts them more, And that he'll soon be able to talk to Anrir and the others about getting a proper Hunt going. Ghosk waved at the younger Night Lord as he watched the younger one leave, wondering what was going on.

But patience...Patience! Like Anrir always says. He feels like he's vibrating- and is glad that he moved out of where the rest of the Claw are- because they would see the expression on his face and demand to see his communicator to know what’s going on.

A thought suddenly strikes Khopesh and the excitement dims a little and he sends another message- a very Anrir thought as he remembers watching the older Night Lord work and talk to others and sends another message, [I won't tell Anrir without your permission....But I also don't want you and your brothers to be in active danger. I have enough on my rotted conscience, so if things get bad. Please don't make me live with staying quiet. For however terrifying he might be. Anrir wants to help you, Claude. We all do. But we can't Do that unless you Tell us what we need to know. Information Is Warfare isn't it?]

Khopesh hopes he isn’t pushing Claude too much, but this is need to know information, and the fact that the youngest member of his Claw was talking about things in more specific detail was Important. Especially with that fucking bastard of a Raven Captain- that they are helping him handle as well.

[Could you send me a copy of the evidence that you and your brother-cousins have?] Khopesh sends, [The evidence that can be submitted to the Alliance, it will help clinch the Hunt to being declared.]

Khopesh has an excited blood thirsty expression on his face- and he is moving around pacing back and forth. He’s so tempted to try and find out where Claude is to rush over and talk, and see if he can get more answers out of him and the other Primaris Marines.

His excitement cools down and he shakes his head as he rereads one of the messages, [wait- no, if the message gets intercepted, they’d need a backup of it to show the Alliance.]

[Cedric and Ramiel say they want to talk with you in person.] Claude sends, [we are at the park nearby the Loyalist base on Cherry lane and main street. Could you come by and speak with us? Things… might be escalating.]

[I’ll be there as soon as I can] Khopesh responds and tries not to run to where Claude and the others are. He’s. really excited. The Primaris Marines are trusting them with this! And they- hopefully will help get the Primaris Marines to have Justice prevail and have a Hunt. It has been so long since they have been able to Hunt.

Khopesh tries to calm down and sees the way that Claude, Cedric, and Ramiel are sitting around a table, there is a quaint looking picnic- clever, make a serious meeting look like something more innocent, clever, clever boys. After the explanation they give, the video is shown and he watches it in full.

"You have footage of one of your battle brothers murders? Fantastic!” Khopesh says.

Cedric stills for a moment. The sheer visceral excitement radiating off of the Night Lord is off-putting to say the least. He briefly glances at Claude. What the fuck? He thinks particularly loudly at his witch-adjacent Brother-cousin. “... I find the joy you show in the death of another marine to be… Unsettling.”

Ramiel’s jaw clenches and blue eyes spark with rage and his hands clenched into fists and Claude jumps in before either of his cousins could smack the crap out of Khopesh, “ the translation "I'm excited we'll soon get to avenge your fallen and deliver Justice!" Not I’m happy your brother is dead.”

Claude very much understands what the former sounds like, and it had been shocking to hear such things, but he had learned how to understand Night Lords and the way they speak. He especially knows Khopesh better, having interacted with him a lot more than his brother-cousins, to keep them from getting too mad at the First Born Night Lord.

Khopesh calms down a little, realizing how callous that sounded, especially since this person is a threat- likely to them personally, as well as to others and apologies, “Sorry- that came out wrong. It really sucks that your brother is dead. I’m excited to be able to help you with this mess. That video- it’s Key Evidence in getting your tormentor put down, or whatever punishment you think is best.”

Cedric pauses for a moment before sending a copy of Castiel's dying video to the Night Lord. “Here is what he sent me. He timed it so hopefully his murderer wouldn't realize he was being recorded. Given the fact that Petras beat another Primaris marine to the point Mattias is currently in surgery now… The Chaplain must be nearby.”

Khopesh is a mixture of emotions, and his trembling a little as he tucks his hands behind his back as his hands clenched into fists. He’s a mixture of Excitement and Rage. How dare that bastard, Petras, go after the Primaris. 

Claude asks him, “What do you think of it?”

"I'm thinking I'd start with flaying Just the fingers! Then I'd yank the phalanges out one by one, on the right hand.” Khopesh starts, “For the left I'd Act like I was going to do the same, then snap the arm and force him to Bite Off his own fingers so the hands would Match-"

Part of Cedric was mildly Disgusted by Khopesh starting to explain what he would do to The bastard. The rest of him wanted to let the deranged Night Lord continue.

"About this Video as Evidence! Khopesh! How is the quality of the evidence!?" Ramiel interrupts.

"Oh right! Sorry...like I said it's fantastic as evidence. It clearly shows the perpetrator, goes decently in depth about his crimes, includes the bastards own fucking vileness on display and though it may sound tactless. Your deceased brother's testimony is something the Alliance will not be able to ignore. It may seem... disingenuous, but the pain and outrage you feel should be Used. It will show the tribunal that these crimes Must be Answered for, Your brother's lives not spent in Vain!" Khopesh says his eyes blazing with emotion and passion. "You never should have had to seek out this justice. Your elder brothers should have taken you beneath their wings, Like Anrir did for us!"

Cedric shifted a little, feeling the need to defend the firstborn Templar brothers who actually gave a damn about him and his Brothers. “A couple of our older Brothers have taken us in. Arnault and Roland have done their best to care for and protect us. As soon as they became peripherally aware of a threat to us that we hadn't told them about they would try and press for explanations. When… I told them earlier this week about Petras when Mattias was first brought in for treatment. They intended to kill the Chaplain, and said as much.” 

Khopesh paces around the table, prowling as he continues his rant, this explains why Claude and the others could be so stars- damned jumpy. Why Claude was so slow to trust- slow to allow himself Anrir and the other’s protections. 

Afraid of what being put under the protection of an older brother means accepting they have some power over you- and seeing and hearing that his cousins were murdered by shit head- and Claude and others getting beaten… yeah no. He’d be reluctant to give up any freedoms, even if it would help in some ways.

"But that's not the path this...Petras bastard chose. He Chose and by the looks of it continues to Choose to harm his own Battle Brothers, and worst! Those He should be responsible for." Khopesh says. "He is the worst type of Predatory, Vile, Rotten Bastard! And he Deserves to answer for his crimes. Your brothers, your fallen, deserve to have him Answer for his crimes."

"Let Us help you present this evidence Claude. Let the Claw help you and your brothers..." Khopesh doesn't use Your Claw as he feels it might push too hard and cause Claude to retreat. 

Instead Khopesh uses The Claw, still implying that Claude is a part of it, but leaving it up to interpretation. Avoiding Our Claw or My Claw as those could distinctly put Claude outside it, which is not true, and he doesn’t want to have Claude feel alienated, fuck the poor kid has had that done to him back in M42, him and his brothers.

Cedric, Ramiel, and Claude get an urgent text vox message from Jophiel it reads  [I’ve got a wounded Black Templar Primaris Marine. Near the stone outcropping two hours in the forest west of Gannet point. I’m stalling Petras- the fucker is Insane. Please help. Or send help. He’s threatening to kill me and Sariel. He knows about the Alliance rules, he just doesn’t fucking care.]

Cedric stood up, and swore under his breath, looking at Khopesh. “While you’re not the firstborn Brother who I’d choose to ask for help, you’re already here and I don’t know how long we have before the situation gets worse. We just received a call for help from Jophiel, a Primaris marine. He’s trying to keep another Primaris Marine alive and is facing Petras without help. We need Petras restrained now. If you mean your words, come and help us.” With that, Cedric took off at his top speed towards where Jophiel had pinged his location, texting back [I am coming! Delay him as long as you can!]

[I will do my best.] Jophiel responds.

He then messaged Arnault and Roland at the same time [Petras is attacking someone at this location. If you are able and willing, please help me keep him from murdering more Primaris marines.]

He gets an immediate response from both Arnault and Roland. Roland answered first. [On my way.]

Arnault answered [Will be there soon. Stay safe and be smart.]

His hearts drop to his stomach when he sees Jophiel on the ground, wings broken, and Petras standing over him. A Crusade of Black Templars and a dead Primaris Black Templar.

"You bastard!" Claude hears Cedric hiss as he chases after his charging Black Templar Brother cousins.

The closer they get to Petras and his Crusade, Cedric suddenly drops to Jophie's side- realizing the other is alive. "Why did you drug him? Break his wings?"

"He went mad," Petras says, "And he killed the Primaris Black Templar."

"LIAR!" Claude hears Cedric bellow. "Jophie is many things a brother killer, he is not."

"His blade is bloodied, and killed the Black Templar," Petras counteracts, telling the truth.

Khopesh has approached Jophiel and is messing with the younger Space Marine's helmet and lets out a dark chuckle and says, "You fool- Jophiel was recording the conversation he had with you."

"... what?" Petras says, sounding caught off guard.

Khopesh gives him a cruel smile and flips the helmet and projects the truth of the matter- Jophiel confronting Petras- who reveals his true cruelty.

How Jophiel tried to escape Petras at first- and only fought him after he'd broken his wings and made it so that escape wasn't likely. How Petras was the one to kill the Primaris Marine- using Jophiel's own weapon.

The looks of shock and horror and disappointment and disgust on the faces of Petras's Crusade have them circling around Petras- rather than trying to defend him.

Petras scowls, realizing that the jig is up and he taunts, "So- you know I have killed two of your disgusting Abominations."

"We are not abominations," Ramiel says tremulously, shaking, terrified, but wanting to stand against the bastard that murdered him in M42. "You are- you m-murdered me and a dozen of our brothers in M42- and have killed at least two of us here!"

Cedric moves closer to Ramiel, standing so that he is half in front of his terrified Brother, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he glowers at Petras. 

"Ah, so you have only found two of my victims," Petras taunts. "The souls of my other victims will never know peace because the location of their bodies will die with me."

"Who says that we will kill you here and now?" Khopesh says slyly, "After all- death is what you will get, but oh- how you should suffer before you die!"

[sleepyfan-blog]

In The Medbay

Author’s Note: This is the second part of Pallius’ in Husbandry. First. Other Black Templar adventures here. Thank you to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for letting me borrow her oc Zariel!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 

Warnings: none? Please ask me to tag something if I need to.

Summary: Pallius wakes up. He’s surprised by this. This is only the first of many surprises in store for the young Black Templar.

Pallius was pleasantly surprised to find himself awake. Considering how badly He had beaten him, the young Primaris Marine hadn’t expected to survive it. He wouldn’t have been the first Primaris Marine to fall to Petras’ bad temper and lethal hands, though he knew that the medicae would do their best to stabilize him, if he was able to be found in time. How he had ended up on a world with civilians on it, when he had been aboard The Sigismund when the punishment Petras had been delivering unto him moments ago made no sense whatsoever. 

His wounds ached somewhat, but far less than he was expecting them to… Was… Was he being given morpha, to relieve some of his pain? Pallius’ eyes shot open, and the view of an astartes-sized and grade medical bay filled his vision. He spotted a couple of Ultramarine apothecaries tending to other patients, moving swiftly and efficiently between them. 

… How had he ended up on a world of Ultramar? The Sigismund had been deep in Imperium Nihilus, chasing rumors of a second Primarch's possible awakening… And the strange moments of The Dark Angels…

Well, stranger movements of the Dark Angels. That particular chapter of Astartes had always been extremely secretive and unwilling to explain anything whatsoever. The way they operated reminded him of the Silver Bastard Trainers back on Mars. The ones he wasn't supposed to talk or even think about very much.

Despite the odd mysteries before him, his mind wandered back to the young mortal who had first found him, upon this world. She had been scared for him, and so earnestly trying to help. Her light touches had soothed wherever they had landed, and her voice had been a soothing balm to his ragged, guilt-ridden soil. Pallius needed to find her.

The young Black Templar looked down at himself assessingly. He had an IV attached to a clear plastic bag that was dripping… Something into his veins. His wounds that needed it were bandaged and presumably cleaned beforehand, per proper protocols.

And if there was one thing Ultramarines were good at, it was following proper protocol. Most of them, anyways.

Pallius’ body was covered by some egregious thin and flimsy light blue smock-thing and a blanket. He wiggled his toes, finding them free of the Vile Abominations known as socks, and bare. He needed to find that baseline mortal and thank her for what she had done. It was as if someone had tied steel cabling to the deepest part of his soul and tethered him to that mortal girl. He found that he did not mind this tether, but the near-frantic urge to find her and keep her safe and happy was enough to force him up and off of the comfortable bed.

A wave of morpha-induced dizziness hit Pallius hard as he managed to silently heave himself off of the bed and onto his bare feet. His fingers clumsily tied the blanket around himself over one shoulder in a parody of a toga, but it was better than the gown-thing he was wearing underneath the blanket alone.

One of his hands flew over to and grasped the IV pole, allowing himself to steady against it. Some clever soul had attached wheels to the base of the pole, which meant pushing it and the IV attached to him a lot easier. His wounds all protested simultaneously at the movement, but Pallius ignored them with all of the grit and determination that he could muster.

Pallius allowed himself a couple of seconds to breathe silently through the pain before taking a quiet step toward the medbay doors. Then another. Then a third. The young Black Templar moved slowly and with caution, so as to not aggravate his still-healing wounds to the best of his abilities, willing none of the Apothecaries to come over and bother him.

He had a (self-imposed) mission to complete, and by the God Emperor Himself, Pallius would see it done, or die in the process. Nothing and no one would be able to stop him on this righteous quest. Pallius continued to make his way to the medbay doors, and reached about three-quarters of the way there from the bed he’d woken up in, when an amused voice drawled out from behind him.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Scout?” One of the Ultramarines called out, an amused expression on his face and mirth shining in his blue-black eyes. 

“I need to find the mortal who first helped me. She was so nice and worried and I… I need to reassure her that I have survived. Do you know where she is?” Pallius asked, having partially turned to explain himself to the Apothecary before returning to his task of Leaving The Medbay.

“... And you want to find the mortal who helped you dressed like this, do you?” The Ultramarine asked, sounding very judgmental and amused.

Rude bastard. “Do you have any better ideas?” Pallius huffed, scowling (not pouting! He was a space marine, damn it) down at the older but shorter Astartes. “Or know where I may borrow some better clothes?”

“The answer to both of those questions is yes.” The Ultramarine Apothecary answered, still clearly laughing at him silently. “But first, please sit down. There is much to explain to you, and I daresay the explanation will help.”

Pallius blinked, obeying the tone of command without thought. A sigh of relief left him and the gray that had been eating at the edges of his vision faded. The pain ebbed and hey, he could breathe better again. “Will the explanation include how I arrived on a world of Ultramar?”

“Considering who you see in the medbay, I understand why you’ve guessed that. But no, we are not within the Realm of Ultramar. We are on Terra.” The Ultramarine revealed.

The Primaris Marine physically recoiled a little in shock and surprise, a silent gasp leaving him, his eyes widening as he tried to process this information. “H… Holy Terra? But… But I was many years from the Sol system, even by Warp Travel… And I thought that Terra’s atmosphere had long since become thin and heavily polluted. That is what we were told, sir.”

“In M42, this is true. However -” The Ultramarine - who introduced himself as Apothecary Zariel - explained the utterly wild and nonsensical tale of time travel that apparently every Marine currently on M3 Holy Terra had somehow undergone. Allegedly Zariel was from M36. He talked of the alliance, of bonds, of many fantastical and heretical things, ending with “And, as I can tell you don’t believe most of what I say -not that I blame you for that young one, this is a tale I would scarcely believe myself if I did not have proof of it, there are a few other Primaris Marines from M42 on base. I have asked two of them to join us. Cedric - who is an apothecary, and Ramiel, who is a Chaplain-in-training. Both of them are also Primaris Black Templars.”

“... Could you go over what these bonds are? How do you know if you have a bond? They… They aren’t heretical, are they?” Pallius asked, light blue eyes widening in surprise and recognition of the names of two of his Brothers.

Zariel smiled and gently patted one of his shoulders, having sat down partway through the long-winded lecture of absolute nonsense that he’d been trying to feed him. Why the other was trying to lie to Pallius so much, the young marine couldn’t begin to guess. All the other had to say was that it was classified for him to know where he was, and Pallius would have accepted that from the other. “Most commonly, a marine bonded to a baseline human feels the need to protect and care for that human. To ensure that they are happy and loved and that they know this. It is also common to want to spend as much time as possible around the human one is bonded to, and to feel a sense of anxiety or concern when away from one’s human for one reason or another.”

Pallius’ eyes widened and he fidgeted with his hands a little, looking away from the older Marine “And… And these bonds, they are… They are good things?”

“Yes, lad, They are wonderful gifts. Is there a particular reason why you ask?” Zariel asked, and he could hear a smile in the other’s voice.

“I think. I think I have a bonded human. The blue haired human who helped me until medicae got on the scene. I feel… I need. I need to find her. I need to make sure that she’s okay. I want to see her smile and laugh and be happy. I-I need to let her know that her care and concern weren’t wasted on someone who died, or does not think of her concern as the precious gift it is.” Pallius explained, a desperate desire to explain himself rising up within the young marine. “Please… I… I need to find her. To see her again.”

“Easy… Easy… Deep breaths. Follow my lead, lad.” Zariel instructed him, breathing in the manner that he wanted Pallius to copy. “Once you’re in a bit better shape -”

Pallius shook his head, his eyes wide and pleading “No! No, I need to see her now! I can’t… It can’t wait! I… I need to see her again. I will leave this medbay and find her on my own, the moment you leave me alone. Please! Her presence was a soothing balm. I know that I would do much better, heal faster, were she around.”

“Do you want your bonded human to see you half-dead from your wounds and half-delirious from both the morpha and blood loss?” Zariel asked, a sharpness in his voice, but a gentle understanding on his face. 

A chill ran through him. Would she see him as an ill-fitting protector, if she were to be brought to him while he was so injured, so frantic? The urge to find her was nearly all-consuming… But the idea of her rejecting him because he was a weak mess of emotions and injuries was enough to get him to stop dead in his tracks, both literally and metaphorically. “I… No…” He answered, his voice small and meek. “I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, I’m going to help you back to your bed. There are some gentle exercises that I will be happy to teach you that will help you heal better, but you must listen to me. You also must not push yourself, or you will strain your injuries and cause them to take longer to heal.” Zariel rumbled, a stern expression on his face.

Pallius ducked his head, shame burning in his hearts “Yes sir… Sorry sir…”

The stern expression on Zariel’s face softened somewhat. “I understand your eagerness to meet your bonded again. I, too have a bonded human. They are a wonderful companion, however the baseline you are bonded to would be distraught to see you in such a weakened state. Not because she’d judge you for being so badly hurt, but because she’d worry as to how you got into such a state. M3 is much more peaceful, and isolated from the horrors of the Galaxy. You want to be at your best when you meet her properly, yes?”

“Yes sir!” Pallius answered, nodding. He still felt the desire to go find the human he was Bonded to, but was able to temper that desire with the knowledge that he did not want to find them, only to collapse into a puddle of pain and bloodied meat before her feet. He obediently followed Zariel back to his bed and laid down, a sigh of relief leaving him, his eyes closing as he was stunned by how exhausted the short distance he had moved had made him.

Zariel untied the blanket he’d been wearing and tucked him into bed, running a gentle hand through his hair. “Sleep well, young one. Try not to sprint for the medbay doors when you wake up again, mm?”

“Yes sir…” Pallius yawned, letting himself settle into the comfortable embrace of sleep.

[lordicusyay]

Elian, Rauk, Pallius doodles!! +Giyuu doodle))

Blorbos<33

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Lessons on Intimidation

Author's note: More of Husbandry AU. Thank you to @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for letting me borrow Khopesh! Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric.

Summary: Olly is going to tell Cedric about the bullies, and the rest of the squad to warn them about Algret and his brother. Just in case they try to push the other's around. He also asks Kerubiel for mean-ness lessons and 'how to intimidate' people lessons from Khopesh.

Warning: uh... Discussions of bullying. Let me know if I need to add more.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Oleandros is going to tell the rest of the Primaris squad about the Apothecary Space wolf Algret and his friend and what they did. Also- he's going to be asking Kerubiel on how to seem mean. Keru's really good at spooking other people.

Oh! Khopesh is great at Intimidation as well. He's going to go ask Khopesh for lessons on intimidation. He sends Khopesh a message, who eagerly responds and they meet up near the Chaos base.

"Hey Khopesh. Uh. I was wondering if you'd teach me how to be Intimidating?"

"Sure!" Khopesh says, excited that one of the Primaris marines wants to be taught how to intimidate others. He's go so many different ideas, "Before that, I want to know the context."

"So ... there are a couple of Space Wolves," Olly explains what had happened, and how they had bullied him to send a message to Cedric.

"Tch, and they call Night Lords Cowards," Khopesh says shaking his head before grinning maniacally as he started talking about his favorite methods of intimidation and methods of torture.

Olly is grateful for his enthusiasm but says, "I ah...I don't want to Actually torture anyone...you Know that right? Its important to me that you know that."

'Ah sweet summer child still an Ultramarine at heart.' Khopesh thinks to himself fondly as he nods and replies, "Suit yourself, but I will Gladly teach you how to make people, think you're capable of such a thing."

"That after all, is the Root of fear. And that will be lesson one, what about you can you use to be Scary?" Khopesh trilled walking around the Primaris who followed with his gaze. "Intimidation is One thing, but to invoke true Fear comes from using what you Have to show you are Capable of inflicting what the fear predicts."

The Night Lord grinned showing off his maw of impressive sharp teeth.

Olly ran his tongue over his own blunt ones. "I don't think will work for me."

"Nonsense!" Khopesh chortled. "Think for a moment, what's something those nice chompers can do that mine can't?"

Olly seemed lost for a moment, before Khopesh sighed and pointed to the pouch he'd seen the Primaris store his rock snacks in. Olly grabs out one of his snacking rocks to show him, still a little confused.

"...I can...eat rocks??" Olly replied. "So can many others??"

"Yes! And do you know how Wild that is to witness??" Khopesh replied with a disbelieving laugh. "Just imagine it! Getting into your targets space, looking over them with your impressive height and Then!"

Oh right, one of the more minor differences between Primaris and First Borns, which while both of them can consume normally inedible to base line human items, Primaris marines have stronger bones, which include dental ones as well.

Khopesh prompted with a flourish. "You rip a chunk of rock from your environment, doesn't matter what or where just as long as you can chew it, and Bite it in Half right in Front of them!"

Olly listens and nods to what Khopesh is saying with a serious expression on his face. He looks around for a piece of rock that would look impressive enough.

"The first things their minds will go to is 'Gee what if that rock was my skull', better bother someone else." Khopesh elaborates, "and of course there are the more subtle ways to invoke fear but we'll get to those later."

"Oh," Olly says, "That's good to know. Thanks Khopesh!"

He looks around and then easily rips up a large chunk of rock, "Like this?"

And he turns to look over at Khopesh with the big chunk of rock and takes a few bite out of it. Making sure his expression was stern-neutral as he did so.

"Oh! This rock is rather- tasty," Olly says happily, breaking out of character, "And the texture is quite nice."

"… I shouldn't say that to the person I'm trying to intimidate, right?" Olly says a little sheepishly. He says after a moment or two of eating the moss covered rock.

"That will help with people thinking you are intimidating if you don't talk about the flavor and texture of the rock you are eating, yes." Khopesh says with a laugh.

Bullying is something that can happen between astartes some times, it happens and it sucks. But- Olly's doing what he can to fix it himself and warn other potential victims of bullying. If he wants more help, he hopes that Olly knows that he can come to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What did you want to talk about?" Kerubiel asks Olly as he looks at his fellow Primaris marine curiously.

"Oh- so A couple of Scout Space wolves bullied me earlier today." Olly says, "Because the Apothecary in training was upset that Cedric beat the shit out of him for being an asshole. But he didn't go after Ced because he knows Cedric will beat his ass again."

"And they went after you, despite how big you are because your softer," Kerubiel says, "... have you told Cedric yet?"

"Oh... yeah..." Olly says, "As soon as I find a way to phrase it so that Ced doesn't go all Wrath of Dorn on them."

Kerubiel snorts, "ha- oh, I want to be there to see his reaction."

"It's not funny!" Olly says frowning at the Dark Angel, who continues to laugh, "No- but those flea bitten dogs deserve the Karma they'll get for fucking with you."

"I'm hoping telling Ced that I'm taking mean-ness lesson from you, if that's okay, and you want to - you don't have to-" Olly rambles.

"Meanness lessons?" Kerubiel says with a chuckle, a fond smile pulling at his lips. Some might grow offended to what Olly was babbling, but he knew what Olly was really intending to say. "Sure- I can help with that Olly."

"Oh- thanks, Keru!" Olly says.

"Provided you give me the names and descriptions of those to shit heads." Kerubiel continues.

"... You're going to do something to them, aren't you?" Olly says with a frown, "I can fight my own battles."

"Yeah- and they involved an innocent third party," Kerubiel says with a scowl. "We both know what happens when shitty first borns go after Primaris. How Bad it can get, and how fucking little recourse we have."

"That... that was back in M42," Olly says, "The- the First borns- and Cedric and the other Primaris Marines say that... that things are different on Ancient Terra."

"Yeah sure," Kerubiel says rolling his eyes, "Just because their punishments are lighter, don't me that the protections that the First Borns and Terran born Space marines get doesn't mean it applies to us. It never did, not really in M42, why the hell would it be true here?"

Olly goes quiet and wilts a little at that. "... we could have Claude as Khopesh or Anrir about that."

"Eh, if that's necessary, maybe later," Kerubiel says with a shrug, "And Anrir only cares about Claude, not much about the rest of us. Which I get why. Claude can be adorable and he's adopted him. Good on Claude for getting such a fierce mentor."

"Albeit an unstable one," Olly mutters quiet, "... but then again. He's Terran born, and has survived from the Unification wars to After the Heresy. So."

"Holy Stars," Kerubiel swears, "He's old."

"So old." Olly replies.

Kerubiel and Olly are quiet for a moment, it shows just how dangerous he is. An old man surviving as long as he has in the type of career they have. It's rare and means that Anrir is exceptionally dangerous and good at what he does.

Kerubiel teaches him different ways to move and certain phrases to say, also reminds him of certain kinds of situations and the build up for them so he can realize what he's potentially getting set up for before it happens.

"Alright," Kerubiel says, "I think that's enough for now. Cedric and a couple of the others are going to be visiting Atlas and the other wounded Primaris. Good time to go let a whole bunch of the others know about those shit heads."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Olly and Kerubiel are in the section of the med bay were Olivar, Pallius, Atlas, and Cedric are. The ones who are wounded Cedric is fussing over. Ramiel, taking a break from Chaplain training is quietly speaking with Olivar about something.

Jophiel is happily bouncing from person to person, while Catius is working on some paperwork- occasionally talking to the others about this and that.

Claude is helping Cedric- by carrying some medical supplies from the closet to where he needs them put down. Olly drifts over and watches the situation with a small smile on his face.

Atlas and Catius look over at him, "Something on your mind Olly?"

"Huh?" Olly murmurs, "Oh, just have a message to give to Cedric from an Apprentice Apothecary Algret of the space wolves."

Cedric's face shifts a little and he sets down whatever it was that he was holding and came over to Olly. "What did he do?"

"Uh, he says that 'we're even now.'" Olly says to Cedric.

Cedric's face darkens, "Olly. What. Did. He. Do?"

"Him and a friend pushed me into some mud." Olly says, "And dumped a bucket of disgusting smelling goo that hardened and stank. It took me hours to clean my armor of the stench and mud."

"That bastard." Cedric hisses upset.

"Ced," Olly says gently reaching out to try and calm his sometimes over protective brother cousin, "No really harm occurred. I just wanted to let you and everyone else know. Just in case he decides to escalate his behavior."

"What did the others say when you were covered in mud and stench?" Atlas asks.

"Oh well- the space wolves had planned a head and sent a message saying that I had tripped into something." Olly says. "The Sargent is apart of their Renegade war band. So... Even though I have video proof that it wasn't me being clumsy. You know how First Borns tend to react to their Scouts being 'harmless pranksters' to primaris."

"... Have you told anyone else besides us?" Catius asks.

"Just Khopesh, when he asked why I wanted lessons on intimidation." Olly says, "So- I'm working on not being such an... easy target. Sorry about that guys."

Olly knows he can cause his brothers a lot of stress, and he tries not to. He looks down and scuffs his foot on the ground a little self consciously. Not noticing the expressions on the others faces.

"They lied to a superior officer?" Claude asks, as a clarifying question, a frown on his face.

"Yeah," Olly says, "And they wouldn't let me up until I repeated their words back to them. The mud was... they had prepared that involuntary mud bath ahead of time for it to... be as effective as it was."

Cedric growls a little and his hands clench into fists. Olly gives Cedric a hug, that just so happens to also potential restrain his temperamental brother-cousin.

"No permanent damage happened." Olly informs him, informs all of them.

"Cowards," Jophiel says with an angry hiss, "They didn't go after the one that had smacked them around, I'm surprised they didn't go after me or one of the smaller of us."

"The rest of you are either too intimidating, have psyker powers. too wounded, or too loveable," Olly says in a no nonsense tone, he gestures to the ones with special powers, the ones who are more intimidating (and they know who they are), same with those who are still wounded, and the ones who are easily lovable.

He's not jealous, its fact, some brothers and cousins are far more palatable, far more lovable, and easy to love. While others are less lovable, less palatable.

Part of him wondered if he was a Pariah, or hand the genes, even if just a little bit. But- if he did then he'd have had the training for it, or would have been culled. At least he thinks that is what the Magos on Trainers would do.

But no, he's not special, not like how his brothers and cousins are special. The psyker and non psyker ones. They are so clever, so witty, so strong, and only will grow more so as they get older.

He'll just continue to fall behind and stagger like a clumsy ox after them and try not to drag them down. Try not to be too much of a burden.

"Oh- yeah they are Space wolves, didn't want to go after the 'witches' in case you gave them 'witch cooties' or curse them or other such nonsense, I think." Olly says rolling his eyes, "And they... likely thought it dishonorable to go after the wounded. And I was ... in a place for them to grab. So."

Olly shrugs, he's unfortunately used to be used as a 'messenger' of that kind of nature for his brothers and cousins. And as much as it sucks, at least it's him and not one of the others.

It's something he can do as a way to shield the others from... stuff and things. Especially since all of them do so much to help him. Why not return the favor? Besides, even if those First Borns had hurt him, Pain is temporary and it would heal up quickly.

"I've had bullies use me to send messages to others that had a lot worse than being stuck in mud for a bit." Olly says as a reminder, "So really. I'm fine. Cedric. Everyone. And since Algret and his buddy say that 'we're even now' going after him would only... escalate the situation."

"Have you told Captain Ash'val or one of the others?" Claude asks.

"No, why?" Olly asks, "such squabbles between Scouts are to be kept between Scouts. Besides, the First Borns will most likely side with the First Born Scouts, and then I would have to do punishment for being a 'whiny little bitch' who doesn't know his place."

"Who told you that?" Cedric growls.

"Who told me what?" Olly asks.

"Don't play dumb, what you just said," Cedric grounds out.

"Oh, some asshole back in M42," Olly says, "He's not here, so it doesn't matter."

"Olly..." Catius says coming over and giving his brother a hug.

"It's in the past," Olly says simply with a shrug, happily leaning into Catius's hug while he still has his arms around Cedric as he gives big ol' 'please calm down' puppy eyes to Cedric.

It's sometimes really effective. Sometimes it just makes Cedric huff, puff, and even more protectively growly. "Perhaps talking to Captain Ash'val or one of the others might be a good idea. Or big Burders Arnault and Roland."

"Why?" Says Olly tilting his head a little, "the one that got bullied was me. Not you or one of the others they care about. So they won't give a shit."

"Olly!" Jophiel says with gasp.

"What?" Olly says with a confused blink and a head tilt. "The first borns care about you- and the others. Therefor it would upset them if you or the others were the ones that were bullied. But it's me. They don't know me. Not really. so they won't care. It's fine. It make sense."

Olly says with a shrug, "I'm an acquired taste, and most tend to not like me for being, well me. It's fine."

"... Olly." Ramiel says his voice wobbling a little.

"Oh fuck," Olly says, "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"... Yes you did." Catius and Atlas say at the same time.

"Why do you think they wouldn't care?" Cedric asks, a complicated expression on his face.

"Because Roland and Arnault are Black Templars- of course they, understandably, prioritize you- and the other Black Templars over the rest of us." Olly starts, "of course the first born brothers and cousins that have bonded to the other primaris marines more care about them. But I'm just... in the back ground. Tied to you lot tangentially. They don't care about me personally, and that's fine."

"There is no way that they care about me, in any capacity, I haven't got the endearing kind of personality type," He shifts a little, stating all of this very matter of factly, he believes every word he's saying, "Besides- it's great that you all have found such people to help and protect you. I can manage. I have before, I will now. It's easier on Ancient Terra, not as many bastards to have to deal with. I know how annoying and difficult to deal with. I just have one of those easy to bully faces and personalities. Haha."

He's always been rather good at that- getting the ire of others directed onto him and off of the others. It's so hard trying to be good, to not be frustrating or hard to work with.

It's like everyone was given certain socialization lessons and he'd missed those classes somehow. And like everyone else was using a secret set of social rules that they all knew about, but no one would really explain them to him.

All that would happen is he'd get punished for unknowingly breaking those rules and punished for doing something when he had thought it seemed like a reasonable action. When he said or did something that someone else had done, but while they were able to do it, he was scolded for it.

That reminds him of one time, when he'd been a lot younger, back on Mars. When they were doing 'free play' sessions and Olly had asked one of their brother cousins if they wanted to play. The cousin had said that he wanted to play with him later. So he'd went away and had come back to ask that brother cousin a couple of hours later if they wanted to play.

Then that brother cousin had yelled at him, saying that Olly was being rude and that he'd already said that he hadn't wanted to play with Olly and that Olly was being rude.

Much to Olly's horror he'd started to cry a little and had tearfully explained that this was later, that he'd agreed to play with him later and later was now.

That same cousin continued to yell and scold that he didn't actually want to play with Olly at all, But he was merely being polite. That he should just go away. That Olly was far to annoying and intense. To just shut up and go away.

Superior officers didn't like questions, even when Olly wasn't trying to be rude. He just ... didn't understand the assignment he'd been given. That the training he had been given wasn't enough.

He wasn't trying to be rude or question there authority. He just ... wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. So no, he wasn't going to pester the older brothers here.

He was far too annoying. Far to difficult to handle for most. To be honest, he doesn't know why Cedric and the others put up with him when he can be way too much.

At least they are nicer about it and say "Olly shush!" at times. Which is helpful, and lets him know when he's being too talkative or is saying something that could potentially offend someone else or something.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Introductions

Author’s Note: This is the next part of Cedric’s adventures in the Husbandry AU! A big thanks to @kit-williams for allowing me to borrow her ocs Arnault, Roland, Angela and Backerin! Masterlist here

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@c-u-c-koo-4-40k

Warnings: Mentions of Petras and his bullshit, please ask me to tag something if I missed it/somethign bothers you

Summary: Cedric introduces Pallius and Olivar to Roland, Arnault and their bonded humans. 

“Olivar, Pallius how are you doing today?” Cedri asked curiously as he watched how two still-healing Brothers carefully stretch and limber up for the low-intensity physical training class that they were going to be participating in later today.

“... Pretty good. Why? Are they going to torment us with some other kinds of boring, basic exercises while not letting us outside of the base?” Olivar grumbled, a surly frown appearing on his face as he slowly eased himself through the leg stretches that he’d been ordered to use. Why the micromanaging bastards thought all of this was necessary when he’d been left to tend punishment-inflicted wounds on his own before, and had managed well enough on his own, thank you very much… The young Black Templar did not know. On the other hand, Cedric did say that his wounds had killed him in M42. 

“Are they concerned that Ancient Terra is so perilous that we need to be at our absolute best, when outside of the base? I know the legends say that cruel and mad sorcerer-kings fought over dominion of HOly Terra for years uncounted before He smote them  and the false idols they worshipped as Gods… But I thought that had been during The Long Night… Has Humanity already scattered across the stars?” Pallius asked, his blue-brown eyes shining with curiosity and nervousness in equal measure.

Cedric hesitated before answering “THe chief apothecary is limiting your movements in order to ensure that you both are healing correctly. There… As for the dangers of Ancient Holy Terra… The most dangerous threat to us as Astartes are the similarly time-displaced renegade and Heretic Astartes. However their witch-bond connection to the Warp is significantly reduced, and using the Warp for unnatural acts is much harder. In part due to the fact that the Eye of Terror does not exist at this point in time. At this time, only Holy Terra holds Humanity.”

“.. Does that mean that there are only three major ruinous powers at the moment?” Olivar asked, straightening out of his stretch, a curious expression appearing on his face “Why do our hosts -who are allegedly loyalists too, suffer traitors and worse to live?  The heretics could corrupt the mortals of this time. Why would they allow-” Olivar stood up, agitated and worried, starting to pace around “Is that why you’re being so cautious in what you tell us, Cedric? What… what bargains have you made in order to ensure that the supplies and time we are luxuriating in using to heal?”

Cedric blinked, reaching out to try and placate his easily riled brother “There are maybe upwards of five-hundred thousand Astartes total on Ancient and Holy Terra. There are less than ten billion mortals total on Ancient  Terra. Luna and Mars have yet to be colonized… Much less the Jovian shipyards and supporting moon colonies to be built. I have been told that should an all-out war happen between the different Astartes factions, it would only devastate humanity in it’s infancy and sabotage everything we stand for and wish to protect.”

“And what about the heretics and their corrupting natures? Or have the firstborns who run things not told you?” Pallius chimed in, visibly concerned. He had also stopped stretching, the information his brother was telling them was too important not to give his full and undivided attention to.

Cedric sighed “I have been told that there is a treaty in place that goes over those questions and a great many other concerns. Chaos and Witchery in general is much more difficult to use and reach here and now. I’ve been told this repeatedly… And both Claude and Jophiel agree with that, that Witchery is much harder to use.”

“Who else is here, that we know?” Oliver asked curiously, mind racing. He wasn’t sure how much he trusted the information about Witchery, but he could tell that Cedric was telling him the truth as he knew it.

“Alive? Ramiel, Olly, and…” Cedric swallowed hard “Chaplain captain Petras. The Honorable Chaplain leads a small band of Firstborn Brothers and wanders as the God Emperor wills them to. Dead? Malachai and Lestras. THey also arrived on Ancient Terra Badly injured… Unfortunately, they were too injured to survive their wounds, despite best efforts to keep them alive.”

The three of them weren’t the only ones in this training room - there were about a dozen or so injured Firstborn Brother-Cousins in groups of three to six, being monitored by an apothecary or well-trained mortal as they stretched and went about their exercises. The chance that their conversation might be overheard was very high, so the young Apothecary was trying to hint to his fellow Primaris Brothers to choose their words carefully without saying or signing such outright, and potentially get more scrutiny placed on them. Cedric had already been dodging the questions about why and how so many of the primaris Black Templars were arriving on Ancient Terra with the same kinds of injuries and state of near-death.

“Ugh. Of course he is here. Is he as much of a heavy-handed bastard here as he is at home?” Olivar asked with the tact the God-Emperor gave a buzzfly. 

Cedric silently whispered a prayer of protection, grace and patience before answering with as much neutrality as he could conjure in his voice “Olivar… Your bluntness gets you into trouble… Please take care with how you speak.”

Pallisu whacked Olivar on the back of the head lightly at the same time “Olivar! You can’t say that out loud about a chaplain! You’re going to get all of us doing penitent punishment for weeks, if not longer.”

“I want my question answered!” Olivar pouted, glaring up at both of them “And you both know I”m right about him.”

“... I haven’t had the opportunity to interact with him directly yet. I haven’t been on Ancient Terra for very long, and he rarely visits this base.” Cedric hedged before changing the subject “However there are a couple of firstborn Brothers who live here in town. I like and respect them both quite a bit.”

“... Like you respect Apothecary Xonfreid… Or like us and Ramel?” Pallisu asked, covering his mouth with one hand as he asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper. Uncertain hope flickered across his face.

“Hrmph. Just who are these Older Brothers? Why do they stay in one place?” Olivar huffed, not wanting to get his hopes up.

“Battle Brother Roland Lichtner is bonded to Miss Becky, who is very nice. She makes baked goods for a living. Do you remember the brot that I shared with you two last week?” Cedric began, suppressing a mischievous grin with difficulty. 

“That was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten. Of course I remember the bread.” Olivar answered, wistful “I want more…”

“Yeah, the taste! The texture! It was almost overwhelming in a good way. You called it sourdough?” Pallius answered, grinning.

“Miss Becky made that loaf of sourdough herself.” Cedric revealed. “As for the other Older Brother… He is bonded to Miss Angela. She’s a quiltmaker and I think a seamstress as well? Do you remember that weighted quilt that I brought over for us to huddle together under during the thunderstorm yesterday?”

“Yeah.” Pallius answered quietly.

Olivar nodded silently, shuddering a little at the memory of the horrible sounds that the thunder had made. “Wait… The renowned sniper, Roland Lichtner?”

Pallius’ eyes widened. He had been undergoing training in M42 as a Sniper -while Glorious Melee was best, he had a steady aim and a good eye - and besides. The Cowardly Xenos and bastard Heretics used long-range, and so a certain number of Brothers were chosen to learn to use similar but sanctified weapons in order to pick them off before they downed their melee brothers. “He… He lives here?” He saw the other as an exemplar of what it was to be a Black Templar Sniper. 

“He does! In the town, not specifically on base.” Cedric explained, a grin on his face, watching Pallius’ eyes light up with awe and delight.

“You mentioned a second Firstborn Brother? And his… Bonded? What do you mean by bonded?” Olivar asked curiously.

Cedric quickly explains what he understands of Bonding, before revealing “Miss Angela is bonded to Brother Arnault Wach. She’s the one who made that lovely quilt.”

“As… As in Emperor’s Champion Arnault Wach?” Olivar asked, his voice a startled squeak.

Cedric nodded, still grinning “Do you want to meet them? I’ve been given permission to take the two of you off base and to meet brothers Roland und Arnault and their bonded?”

“... Today? Now-ish?” Olivar asked, voice still shaky, eyes wide.

Cedric nodded “We’d have to walk over to where they are, but ja. I was thinking we’d go to the Bakery first, talk to bruder Roland und his Bonded, get something to eat - don’t worry, I have enough local currency for the three of us and then head over to Bruder Arnault’s und his Bonded’s home.” He looked them both other “Unless you’re not feeling up to it? They want to meet you. Oh! We’re not supposed to tell Brother Arnault he’s an Emperor’s Champion, as he was pulled from a time before he became one.”

“Oh… That makes sense.” Pallius hummed, nodding a little. “I’d like to shower first, and change into the nicer set of civilian clothes that were given to me, but otherwise I’m ready to meet them.”

Olivar nodded “I would like a bit of time to prepare, but I am ready to face - er. Meet them today as well.”

Cedric nodded, smiling a little. He’d asked Ramiel if he wanted to come on this trip too, but the young Judicar was busy with training today. “Alright. Meet you at the front desk in an hour?”

The other two Primaris Black Templars agreed, before heading off to their assigned rooms to get clean and changed.

~

It was a pleasantly sunny day, and Cedric was unsurprised to find that the bakery had a line of eager and hungry mortals waiting to purchase their baked goods that stretched out of the door. He gestured for Pallius and Olivar to join him at the back of the line, humming a little to himself.

Thankfully, despite the length of the line, it moved swiftly, and soon the three Primaris Marines found themselves within the charmingly decorated and mouth-wateringly delicious smelling shop. Many of the baked goods had been sold out, but what was remaining still looked and smelled amazing.

The mortal behind the payment counter spotted the three of them and briefly headed into the back of the shop, followed back into the main room by Roland, who smiled a little as he spotted Cedric, his gaze looking over the other two Pimaris Marines curiously. He walked over to the three of them and murmured “Hallo Cedric Are these two Olivar und Pallius?”

Cedric nodded, beaming as he gently laid a hand on the slightly shaking Pallius’ shoulder “Ja! This is Pallius.” he paused for a moment before nudging Olivar “Und this is Olivar.”

Neither one of his fellow Primaris Brothers spoke for several seconds, their eyes wide, their breathing fast and shallow. Cedric silently nudged both of them and Pallius spoke up first “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. Cedric had us try some of the sourdough that is made and sold here. It’s very good.”

Roland’s eyes lit up “A fellow bread lover! Ja, mein beloved’s broten has no equal in this or any other world! Come, follow me, the three of you. She has been just as curious about the two of you as I have been. She is busily working away, kneading.”

“Yessir.” Olivar and Pallius answered at the same time, dutifully following after the Older Brother. 

Cedric grinned as he followed them as well, calling out as soon as they were close “Hallo miss Becky!”

The short human woman set down the bag of flour that she’d been carrying and rushed over, hugging him as best as she could manage “Hello, Cedric! Are these your newly arrived brothers?”

Cedric nodded, beaming “Ja! This is Pallius und this is Olivar.” He explained, gesturing to his brothers in turn, gently hugging her back. 

She let him go and went up on her tiptoes, peering up at the two newcomers “You two certainly do look like Cedric’s brothers. Come closer, please. I promise not to bite.”

“Careful, my love. They are both injured from whatever they’d been up to before they arrived here on Terra. I believe that Pallius has fractured ribs, und the reason why Olivar is holding his left arm like that is because of broken bones as well.” Roland hummed, staring directly at Cedric as he said that.

Cedric could hear the silent question in the older Black Templar’s voice, but he needed to talk privately with his fellow Primaris marines before they decided what it was they were going to tell the others here. “They are well enough to take short trips out of the base, though.”

Olivar was the first to move closer to the mortal woman, both guarded and curious “Hallo miss Becky. Your sourdough is very tasty. What are those pale lumps of matter you were squishing when we came in?”

She gave him a quick side hug before taking a half-step back “That’s called a dough… Olivar, is it?” Miss Becky gives a quick explanation as to what dough is, and the process of turning dough into bread, a slight blush appearing on her face as she finished with a quiet “Ah… My apologies. You probably didn’t want that much information about such things…”

Pallius looked genuinely fascinated, and Olivar had drifted over to one of the lumps of dough, a focused expression on his face.

“Please don’t say that! I was finding your lecture to be both interesting and quite informative! We weren’t taught how to make food like this - basic foraging, yes. But nothing so technical.” Pallius answered, blue-brown eyes shining with fascination. 

“So you just.. Squish the bread? Und it makes it stronger and tastier?” Olivar clarified, looking very much like he was seconds away from poking one of the lumps of dough sitting out on the counter with a finger.

“If you want to help knead the dough, you must first wash your hands und ask.” Roland drawled, walking over and lightly nudging Olivar over to the sink “Would you mind if the ducklings helped us for a little while?”

“Not in the least! Their help would be quite timely, given the massive line of people we have out of the door, and the dough that requires kneading.” Miss Becky answers with a sigh “If you three are willing to help, of course. If you don’t want to, I won’t insist.”

“But we want to help.” Cedric, Pallius and Olivar answered at the same time, turning to peer hopefully down at the mortal baker. 

Cedric paused for a moment before saying “I can show them how to use not too much of their strength, and cause the dough to tear - und how to mold it into two pieces, if it does accidentally tear.”

Miss Becky beamed and nodded “Thanks, Cedric! You’re a lifesaver. Now I’ve got to get these croissants in the oven.” One of the timers went off, startling Olivar and Pallius with the loudness.

Roland went over to the oven and pulled out several very hot loaves of bread, setting them carefully on the cooling rack “I will help with that, mein schatz.” 

Cedric gestured for Pallius and Olviar to join him at the sink, showing them how to properly wash their hands in order to get ready for kneading the dough. He showed them the proper technique, letting them get a feel for the strength required for the repetitive task, and what they were looking for, for when the bread was ready to be baked.

Both Olivar and Pallius listened and watched carefully, doing their best to mimic what he was doing.

Miss Becky had been kind enough to give them a loaf of freshly cooled banana bread for the three of them to share, after the couple of hours they had spent kneading loaf after loaf of bread into being ready to be cooked, cooled and sold. 

Cedric had texted Arnault as the three of them were leaving the bakery on the communication device he’d been given [We are on our way. Do I need to to give you some more time?]

Cedric was well aware of the fact that Arnault loved his bonded very much, and enjoyed flirting with and touching her whenever he could get away with it. Sometimes that would escalate and Arnault would steal away his bonded to kiss and do… Things with her that the young Apothecary had only heard of in theory and did not want to think about in depth in conjunction with his honored elder brother, thank you very much. Also Arnault had asked him to text before hand for those kinds of reasons.

[Mein Engel and I are ready for guests. She is finishing up a project for a client, und I am helping her by holding up the last part of what needs sewing together. The front door is unlocked, just knock before coming in.] Arnault answered promptly.

Cedric nodded to himself on instinct as he sent back [Understood. We should be there in twenty minutes or so.]

~

Cedric led Olivar and Pallius to Arnault’s and Angela’s home, pausing at the front door, realizing that both of them were standing and staring at the house from the sidewalk. He sighed silently and walked back over to his brothers, voice gentle and coaxing “We’re nearly there. He’s a wonderful big brother, I promise.”

“He… He’s an Emperor’s Champion… Well, will be, from his standpoint. Are… Are we worthy to be in his presence?” Pallius asked, uncertainty causing his voice to shake a little.

Olivar shuffled alongside Pallius, unwilling to voice his own concerns, but nodding along to what Pallius said.

Cedric took in a deep breath and gently held one of Olivar’s and Pallius’ hands, squeezing gently, and answered “We are worthy. Each of us is as valuable as a firstborn brother of our rank and standing. He’s looking forward to meeting you, as is his bonded. I wouldn’t ask you to meet someone who I don’t trust while you’re still healing.”

“... Okay. Let’s do this, then.” Olivar answered, a determined expression appearing on his face as he took in a deep breath and did his best to center himself.

Pallius nodded, taking a couple of moments to center himself as well before saying “Okay… I’m ready. Let’s… Let’s go meet them, then.”

Cedric nodded, smiling encouragingly at his brothers as he led them over to the front door, knocking and then entering as he’d been asked. He informed the other two “It’s considered rude to walk around in their home walking in the shoes that we were walking around outside in. Outside shoes go in this bin over here, and there are guest slippers here, unless you want to walk around barefoot, or in your socks, both of which are acceptable as well.” he took off his own shoes and put them away properly, content to meander about the house in his socks.

Pallius and Olivar obediently took off their shoes and placed them in the correct bin. Neither elected to take a pair of the astartes-sized guest slippers and Olivar also took off his socks, pairing them and placing them in his shoes, so that they wouldn’t get lost. 

Cedric called out “We’re here!” loud enough so that his voice would carry throughout the house, while also not being too loud so as to accidentally cause alarm.

“Come on in!” Miss Angela called out, closer than he’d anticipated her voice to sound “Arnault and I are in the living room, finishing up a project. Please don’t step on the fabric, when you come into the room.”

“Yes ma’am.” Cedric responded, smiling a little as he carefully led his brothers into the living room, carefully picking his way over to where she was sitting and sewing - Arnault carefully holding onto the fabric she was stitching together in order to help keep it steady. “This is Pallius - he’s the one with the slightly darker eyes and hair - and this is Olivar. He’s shorter and -”

“I am less than five inches shorter than the both of you!” Olivar sulked, sending a grumpy pout Cedric’s way “I am well within standard parameters. The fact that I am more compact only means that I can move in more cramped areas better than you two.”

“- grumpy.” Cedric finished with a teasing grin on his face.

“I’d offer you boys some tea, but I’m a little busy at the moment, and so is Arni.” Angela responded, looking up from her work and looking at the three of them. “Goodness! Look how lovely you all are. And there’s no shame in being shorter than others, Olivar. Don’t let the talls bully you! You’re wonderful just the way you are.”

Olivar - who had started to wind up at Cedric’s gentle teasing - deflated a little, blinking in utter shock and mild surprise, struck silent by her words.

Pallius blinked twice and took a half-step forward to cover his Brother’s shock “I’m sure Vie will thank you for your words once he finds his tongue again. None of us have much experience interacting with baselines, and Olivar is not great at making first impressions.”

“Hey! I am… Adequate at socialization!” Olivar pouted, content to be half-hidden behind his larger brothers. He was trying not to be overwhelmed and mostly succeeding. 

“Ja, of course you are, Vie.” Cedric hummed, gently patting his grumpy brother a little, trying to suppress the grin that threatened to appear on his face. “I could start the electric kettle, if you wanted?” He offered.

“That would be lovely, thank you Cedric. It’s in it’s usual spot in the kitchen.” Miss Angela answered with a smile. She then looked to Olivar and Pallius “Please, come sit down, there are a couple of chairs not buried under fabric you can use.”

“Yes ma’am.” Pallius murmured, carefully moving so as to not disturb the fabric in the room.

Olivar fidgeted a little. One of his legs was still on the mend and he had a slim cast that fit under the clothes he was wearing. He wasn’t sure if he had the dexterity to make it across the room without stumbling over the fabric and didn’t want to get into trouble, so he stayed at the entrance of the room. He did lean against the door frame on his good leg. “If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’ll stay here.”

“If you’re sure… There are a couple of chairs free…” Miss Angela pointed out.

“I don’t mind standing, ma’am.” Olivar answered, which was a partial truth.

Arnault hummed a little “There is a sturdy enough folding chair in the closet in the hallway you walked through. Sit, lad. I can smell the pain you’re in from your broken leg.”

Angela gasped a little, a worried frown on her face “You walked all the way here on a broken leg without crutches? Honey, do we have any astartes-grade painkiller? You must be so sore, you poor dear. Hang on, let me move some of this fabric out of the way, so you can sit properly.”

“I… Uhm. I’ll be fine, ma’am. I don’t want to interrupt your work.” Olivar deflected awkwardly.

“Nonsense! It’s easier if the quilt is all laid out like this, but it isn’t strictly necessary. Arni, love, help me move things?” Angela tutted, shaking her head a little.

Arnault nodded, knowing how and where to move the fabric to, before giving Olivar a quick once over and a quiet order “Come here and sit down, Olivar.” He made sure that his voice was gentle, but firm, to brook no argument from foolish apprentices. 

“Yes sir.” Olivar responds, obediently reacting to the tone of command, doing his best to move as carefully as he could manage, sitting down on the far edge of the couch. Some of the pain leaving him, as he was able to get his weight off of his injured leg. “What is it that you are making?” Olivar asked, curiously as he looked at the fabric around him. It looked to be deliberately and expertly stitched together, some of it dyed different colors in a lovely pattern.

Miss Angela grinned as she briefly looked to Arnault before answering “I am making a weighted quilt. I recently finished making one, and this one should be finished by the end of the month. What do you two think of this one?”

Pallius answered first and earnestly “I think your client is very lucky to receive this uilt. I can tell this is expertly made, and the quality is so much better than the thin blankets we were allotted aboard The Sigismund.”

Olivar nodded in agreement “I can’t imagine the time and effect that you put into making this. It is a beautiful piece of art, ma’am.”

Miss Angela seemed to lose the ability to speak for several seconds, blinking rapidly before setting down the needle and finely spun thread and reached out to gently cup one of Olivar’s cheeks “That is such a sweet thing to say, both of you, thank you.”

“Yeah… Cedric’s so lucky to have one of these…” Pallius sighed “It was so comfortable to snuggle together, during the thunderstorm yesterday. Olivar and I were still pretty out of it and…”

“The thunder reminded us of artillery fire in the worst ways. Bad memories and heavy pain killers are an awful combination.” Olivar grumbled, pouting a little though he leaned into her gentle touch, trying to blink back treacherous tears that threatened to fall. He’d never been touched this gently by someone who wasn’t a Brother or a Cousin before and he had no idea how to react. He had no idea how much a quilt like the one Cedric had cost, but he planned on getting money and the supplies necessary to create such a thing and ask Miss Angela to make one for him. Cedric would probably know what to get and how much it cost. Ramiel too, as both of them had those wonderful quilts. He planned on asking for one for Pallius first, as a surprise gift for his only surviving squadmate. 

Cedric came back into the room with one mortal sized mug and four astartes sized mugs in his hands, along with several bright orange fruits that smelled sweet. “I’ve got drinks and a snack for everyone.” He passed both the fruits and the mugs around,c careful to avoid stepping on the fabric. 

Pallius curiously inspected the orange fruit that he’d been given. It had bright, smooth skin and smelled faintly sweet and floral. He didn’t recognize it at all “What is this?” He asked curiously as he brought the fruit up to his lips and carefully took a small bite.

“These are persimmons. They should taste sweet and have a slight drying effect on the tongue.” Arnault explained, an amused smirk appearing on the older Black Templar’s face as he took a bite of the fruit.

Olivar was put off by the slightly grainy texture of the flesh of the fruit, and the flavor was odd to him as well. But everyone else seemed to be enjoying their fruit and he wasn’t one to turn down food when it was offered to him freely, so he quickly ate the rest of the persimmon, washing down the taste and texture with the tannic-tasting tea. It was amazing to learn just how much variety of foods there was on ancient and holy Terra… And overwhelming to the young Astartes, who was used to the carefully created and bland tasting nutrient pastes, ration bars and similar such food-stuffs that were made to sustain the Adeptus Astartes. 

“Is the persimmon not to your liking, Olivar?” Miss angela asked, sounding concerned.

Olivar blanked in surprise. He’d tried to keep his mild distaste for the strange fruit from being obvious. “It’s… Very different from what I’m used to, ma’am. But I did finish it.” Olivar answered, resisting the temptation to fidget with the mug in his hands. 

“Persimmons can be an acquired taste. I was given these by a neighbor who has a persimmon tree that is fruiting heavily this year. I’ve also seen the start of the Zucchini Shenanigans season earlier this week.” Angela hummed, smiling a little.

“I will be on guard, to ensure that we are not ambushed by too many squash. THey are tasty, but too many at once to eat before they spoil is… Vexing.” Arnault rumbled shaking his head a little.

Pallius silently wondered what the two of them were referring to. He looked to Olivar silently, who shrugged, equally confused before they both silently looked to Cedric, in hopes that he would offer them some kind of explanation.

“Free, fresh vegetables are always welcome at the base, should you be gifted with more zucchini than you can eat before it goes bad.” The young apothecary offered “Also miss Becky recently taught me how to make zucchini bread, which I find to be quite tasty, though on the sweet side.”

“Was that the soft brown bread with the spices you fed us earlier this week?” Olivar asked curiously, eyes widening in recognition. “You made like… Ten loaves of the stuff and we had to hide them from nosy firstborn brothers while they cooled, so that they could be used in trade.”

“Those were indeed Zucchini bread.” Cedric confirmed with a small grin.

“What did you end up trading that Zucchini bread for, anyways?” Pallius asked curiously, head tilting a little at his apothecary Brother “You mentioned that you’d made them specifically to be used in trade, which is why we hid them from hungry Older Brothers.”

Cedric’s eyes shone brightly with a playful kind of mischief “Something that I wanted and knew I could get with the proper application of sweet tasting breads.”

“I suppose that’s Cedric for “I’m not gonna tell you” then?” Olivar grumbled, pouting a little “Is there a particular reason you won’t tell us? Or are you practicing Secret Keeping?”

Cedric chuckled, his eyes still shining brightly with playful mischief “I’m not telling~! If you need to find out, you will in time.”

“Fine.” Pallius sighed, pouting a little that Cedric wouldn’t tell them but not willing to try and push the issue… At least not in front of the firstborn and his bonded. 

“... Why would you need to practice keeping secrets?” Miss Angela asked curiously, as she had finished eating her persimmon and had gone back to stitching the quilt together.

All three young Astartes looked at one another uncertainly before looking to Brother Arnault. They weren’t quite sure what parts of astartes training they were allowed to speak of, and what was to be kept silent on. 

Arnault chuckled “Basic astartes training leaves many young ones to be quite blunt und direct with their words and methods of speaking. Some missions require a degree of… Hrm. Subtlety and discretion, so we have the young ones practice how to Keep Secrets with low-stakes items and information that they are told to hide for a certain length of time, so that they know how to do so when it matters.”

“Ah, I see. I suppose that makes sense…” Angela hummed, nodding a little. “How long have you two been on Earth?”

“... I’m not sure, ma’am. But not longer than a month or two at most? I was brought to the base pretty badly injured because of… Uhm. Reasons, and I’ve been in recovery after they stitched my wounds closed, ma’am.” Pallius answered, shifting a little “This is the first time I’ve left the base since arriving, actually.”

Olivar nodded “I think I've been here for about three weeks at most? Maybe a month, by the way you figure the days and nights.” It was by unspoken agreement that they were not going to explain precisely how and why they had acquire their grievous wounds - the firstborns had assumed that they’d been nearly killed by Chaos Astartes from the kinds of weapons their wounds had been inflicted by… Which while untrue, was close enough to the truth to be functional. “From what little I have seen of Ter-err Earth, it’s a beautiful world.”

“It can be a beautiful place to live… Though I can’t help but wonder what it’s like to wander the stars, as Arni has occasionally told me he’s done. What’s it like to explore other worlds?” Angela asked, a soft sigh leaving her.

The three Primaris marines glanced at each other before looking to Arnault, unsure how to answer her question, each shifting uncomfortably. While it was possible that some of the many worlds that they had visited during their tenure as Astartes had once been beautiful, most of that beauty had been blasted and perverted into misery and suffering by the enemy they had been sent to fight. 

“We’re not supposed to talk about what we did before we came to Earth, my love.” Arnault reminded her, voice gentle as he gave his Angela a kiss on the lips that caused all three of his baby brothers to fluster and turn away, to give them a bit of privacy, their ears burning bright red. 

Angela kissed him back, a soft hum in her voice “Very well then, I won’t ask more about it. I wouldn’t want to get any of you into trouble for prying into your mysterious pasts.” 

Cedric’s phone chimed, as a reminder went off. He looked at the notification and sighed “Vie, Palli, we need to get going back to base soon, or they’ll start sending out search parties for us and we’ll be grounded for wandering around too long without a check-in.”

Olivar grumbled “Can’t we check in via vox?”

Cedric shook his head “No, we need to check-in in-person, because you and Pallius are injured.”

Pallius sighed and nodded “Very well then. I suppose it makes sense…” He got up and saluted Arnault and Miss Angela on instinct “Thank you for your time, tea and the fruit.” He started to carefully make his way across the floor. 

Olivar also got up and saluted the two of them, hiding the pained wince as his weight was partially on his broken leg once again “Thank you sir, ma’am.” and hobbled out of the room as gracefully as he could manage.

“Alright, you boys stay safe, alright?” Miss Angela answered with a small smile and a nod, leaning a little into Brother Arnault as she spoke.

“Heal well, und try not to get into too much mischief. At least not without me or Roland present.” The Emperor’s Champion hummed, a small smile on his face as he held his Bonded lovingly. 

“Yes sir! We’ll try to stay out of trouble, sir!” Cedric chirped for his brothers, stepping so that he was helping Olivar and Pallius move without it being abundantly obvious. 

Arnault snorted a little “Uh-huh. No fist fighting Chaos Cowards out of armor, Cedric.” 

Cedric pouted a little as Olivar and Pallius looked at him curiously “That was one time, big bruder!”

“Ah-huh.” Arnault answered, still smirking a little as the three apprentices made their way out of his and his beloved’s home.

Cedric helped Pallius and Olivar get back to base, making sure to insist that they sit on  benches that were occasionally near the sidewalk, so that they could give their still-healing bodies a break. He also dutifully recounted his encounter with the Slaaneshi Bastard and his reasoning behind tackling the fucker and duct-taping empty glass jars to his poison-dripping fingertips.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Incoming Pallius

Author’s Note: This is the third part of a mini-arc in which Cedric will be (trying) to patch up injured Primaris Black Templars as they appear on Ancient and Holy Terra! For other adventures click here and here. First. Previous. Next. Thank you to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for allowing me to borrow Hura and Zariel!

warnings: injuries, blood, surgical procedures, concussion

tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

Summary: Pallius finds himself... On a planet? That's... Weird as fuck.

Pallius blinked blearily in shock as bright, warm sunshine shone in his swollen eyes. He could smell fresh - if lightly polluted - air on the breeze ruffling his blood-matted hair. He could hear the sounds of worried voices murmur and the rapid beating of multiple mortals’ hearts in their chests. Firm ground pressed against his badly injured and bloodied back. Breathing hurt so, so much, but he kept on doing it. Weight pressed against his chest, so Pallius turned over onto one side with an agonized groan as he coughed wetly. The coppery tang of blood filled his mouth and splattered the black surface he’d been left on.

The last thing he remembered was Chaplain Petras’ harsh words of reprimand as the older marine administered the corporal punishment that he had earned for his audacity to question the orders of the vicious bastard who’d chosen him as a personal punching bag and durable serf… Or should he say, the firstborn astartes who’d chosen to mentor him. He’d been aboard The Sigismund and one of his fellow Primaris Marines - one of the few Apothecaries in training - had sprinted into the room first aid kit in hand and helmet on to hide any unfortunate facial reactions to the miserable state that Pallius had been beaten into by Petras.

Pallius had heard warnings about the firstborn captain’s temper. Had noted the unease in his fellow Primaris Marines when interacting with him, even in groups. He had noticed the unusual numbers of casualties and fatalities that his fellow Primaris Marines had suffered verses their non-primaris Apprentice and Neophyte-designated Black Templars. Along with where and how he and other Primaris had been positioned and provisioned for… As well as the types of missions they were given, versus their non-primaris apprentices and neophyte peers.

It painted a grim pict for his fellow Primaris Marines assigned to the Black Templars. Pallisu was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to survive for much longer and silently mourned the fact that he was going to be just another anonymous number. That he couldn’t warn his brothers, and verify that those rumors about the bastard were true… He silently wondered if the High Marshal would even care, if word of the suffering of his fellow Primaris Marines ever reached his ears, or if the other would turn a blind eye to it.

He startled a little as he felt a small hand touch one of his shoulders. Pallius forced his swollen eyes open as far as they would go, squinting up at the blurry figure of a… A… Blue-haired mortal teenager? He managed to smile weakly up at them as feelings of safety, warmth and affection surged within him at their continued touch.

They spoke rapidly in a language that Pallius did not understand, tears streaming down their face.

Pallius blinked up at them and with a titanic effort of will, he brought up one of his hands - the bones in his fingers broken by the stomping boots of a certain chaplain - and with painstaking care, tried to wipe them away. It felt so very wrong to him, to see this mortal weep and sob. A deep, instinctual part of him wanted very much to cheer this lovely mortal up. To see them smile and laugh. To make sure that they were happy and loved and safe at all times, forever.

Ah. Whoops. His bloody fingers were leaving stains on their pretty face. He hadn’t meant to do that, though the mortal was leaning into his touch a little, which made him smile a little. “Shhh… Shhh… It’s my duty to serve.” He managed to force him to say. His throat ached to say, even those few words and he panted, trying to recover what little breath he had remaining in his lungs.

The pretty mortal leaned into his hand a little more, causing the warmth in his chest to intensify pleasantly. It was taking too much effort for Pallius to keep his eyes open, so he closed them. His everything ached, but the nameless warmth that was starting to spread through his body felt good. His newborn desire to protect and care for this lovely mortal with all that he is, and all he could ever be was staving off his nose-dive into the abyssal darkness that threatened to consume him with every passing moment.

Much heavier footsteps thundered towards him. Ceramite on whatever stone-adjacent surface this black substance was. With tremendous effort and force of will, Pallius heaved himself up into a sitting position and forced his eyes open once more, looking to the source of the ceramite-clad sounds.

FUCK!

Firstborn Astartes were thundering towards him. By their colors and heraldry, they were Salamanders, but apart from his relative certainty that it meant that the mortals around him were safe, it was likely even odds as to whether or not they would have him treated, or gie him the Emperor’s Mercy for his sorry physical state.

The pretty mortal was fussing something fierce, from what he could see of their body posture and their tone of voice. He was startled to hear them speak in a thick accent he did not recognize, in Gothic “More Astartes coming. To help you.”

A wheezed laugh left his lips, quickly dissolving into another series of wet, blood-splattering coughs. Astartes were the Angels of the Imperium, yes. Salamanders were said to be among the most compassionate and kind of all Angels. To mortals. Amongst their cousins, the Dragons had several well-earned reputations, and Pallius was braced for a painful, and likely fiery death. The internal politics of the Astartes were not for mortals to know, and he ran his tongue along his lips, licking the blood off of his teeth before smiling sadly down at them, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice “I… Hear their footsteps.

He really wished he had the rest of his armor on. Or at least his helmet as it would hide his emotional reactions to a degree as the bastard firstborns came to heckle and torment him. With another titanic effort of will, he shifted as the cacophonous sound of  Astartes running got louder and louder, Pallius managed to shift so that a majority of his bulk was shielding the pretty mortal from their view. 

The half-dozen concerned looking Salamanders surrounded him, moments later, and Pallius hated the way that each of them clocked the way he flinched and curled away from their approach. Pallius also hated the way that his treacherous, dying body shuddered continuously now, as he was surrounded on all sides by firstborn marines. He was not afraid. He was not afraid. Astartes could not feel fear, so he bared his teeth as the Salamanders crowded in closer, a low, rumbling growl escaping his split and bleeding lips.

The pretty (his?) mortal began to run their fingers through his hair. They were careful to not touch the places on his head where he was bleeding or swollen. Their scent was stronger and the touch was wonderful.

Tears slid down his face, and he leaned into their gentle touches, a sob leaving him as he closed his eyes once more. It felt so good to be held gently, to be touched as if he was someone to be treasured and cared for, rather than a newly crafted weapon that needed to be beaten and molded into the correct shape for his superiors to use as they saw fit. “I will live. For you. I promise.” Pallius vowed as he leaned into the (his) mortal, feeling gentle darkness swallow his body as Astartes-sized hands dragged him away from them.

If he survived, he would find them. If he died, his spirit would protect theirs until he was swallowed by deamons.

~

Cedric had been rushing from one appointment to the next all morning. He had barely enough time to take a steadying breath before plunging back into caring for the next in a seemingly endless waves of patients, muchless chart all that he had done. 

Today was the start of a local festival celebrating the summer weather, near as Cedric could tell… Which apparently involved pyrotechnics (Bombs, but sparkly and not meant for war or purposeful destruction) imbibing copious amounts of intoxicants and forgetting how to hydrate properly along with forgetting what the symptoms of heat-stroke and sun-sickness were until the afflicted required medical attention. 

If pressed, Cedric could rely on his memory to recount just what precisely he had done to aid those seeking care… Which involved a lot of burn cream, IV hydration therapy and the stitching of fingers and/or toes back onto the stump where they’d been blown off of. Most of his patients today had been baselines, but not all of them. The occasional sheepish Astartes had entered his exam room, in need of medical care.

Ten minutes ago, Hura had walked into the exam room that Cedric had claimed for the day and physically dragged him out of it. The vile chaos bastard had refused to let him go until he’d been forced onto a chair, with fresh and fortified food placed in front of him to eat.

Which he had inhaled as fast as he could without choking. Cedric hadn’t realized how hungry and thirsty he had gotten while tending to the seemingly endless number of patients needing care. After that, as Hura refused to let him leave, Cedric had started to doze off a little in the seat, enjoying the relative peace and quie-

Andrew, one of the mortals who was running the front desk burst into the room, a worried frown on his face, as if Cedric thinking one of the Forbidden Words had summoned  even more trouble to their collective doors. “Sirs, a badly injured and partially unarmored and unarmed astartes suddenly appeared within the city. A squad of Salamanders is closing in on his location, and he’ll be brought here.  Zariel is already scrubbing up for the likely surgeries he’ll require, but is asking for at least one, ideally two more Apothecaries to aid him in tending to the injured marine. The Salamanders were unable to identify which legion or chapter he belonged to, and he passed out on the scene before any of the Salamanders could try and speak with him.”

Cedric stood up, and answered “I am willing and able to help Apothecary Zariel.”

“I will assist as well.” Hura responded, nodding seriously “What is their eta?”

“Five minutes max. The mortals are doing their best to clear a direct path to the clinic but there’s a lot of people between here and where the injured marine landed.” The baseline answered honestly.

“Then we should get going quickly. He’s going into Operating room three, which is fully prepared, yes?” Hura remarked, moving faster at this news. 

Cedric swiftly followed after Hura, hearts leaping into his throat as the baseline human described the injuries that had been inflicted upon the Astartes - along with the black armor of the lower half of armor he was still wearing.

Was this another brother?

~

Three minutes, twenty-seven seconds later and Cedric had his answer. Lying on the operating table, while wavering in and out of consciousness was another of his fellow Primaris Black Templars. 

Another Primaris who had been beaten to death by Petras. One whom Cedric had desperately tried to save in M42 and had failed, due to a lack of supplies, experience, and time. Internally he flinched at the sight of the other Primaris marine, but his hands were stone-steady as he worked on aiding the two older and more experienced Apothecaries in putting his brother back together.

“Don’t use general anesthetic, he’s got a bad concussion, on top of everything else going on with him.” Cedric warned Zariel as the Ultramarine reached for the mask that would give astartes-grade general anesthetics. “Topical, only. Besides, General anesthetics makes Pallius more belligerent and grumpier than he usually is.” Which was saying something, as this particular battle brother was not known for his shining personality and optimistic outlook on life. 

“... So you know this badly injured marine too, Cedric?” Hura asked as he carefully sutured up one of the deeper lightning claw wounds on Pallius’ chest. “Is he also a Primaris Marine?”

“Now is not the time to ask these questions, Hura.” Zariel hummed, voice light but holding a warning as he sent an unreadable to Cedric expression the Death Guard’s way.

The Chaos Astartes’ eyes narrowed a little and he huffed “You have a point. Ah, he is coming around again. Cedric, if you would talk him down?”

Cedric rushed over so that his Brother could see him and only him, hands still working to patch him up “Easy, Palli. We’re in a safe location, I promise. You’re in good hands, and you’re going to get through this. You’ve just gotta let me work and not move around, alright? I can give you some local anesthetic for some of the deeper-”

“No. No pain relievers. You know the rules.” Pallius denied, shaking his head a little, before a quiet whimper left him “Why am I so dizzy?”

“That would be the concussion, Pallius. Try not to move around too much until I’ve got all the holes plugged inside of you. Then I’ll have you transferred to a bed where you can be in a semi-sitting position and you can have a little bit of water.” Cedric explained, hoping that neither of the other Apothecaries was going to comment on what Pallius just said. Surely they had similar rules. Right? Regarding punishments.

Not that… Cedric had told them that Pallius… Nor Lestra nor Olivar had been so badly injured because of punishments that, in his professional medical opinion, had gone on for far too long, and far too intensely. While he was relatively sure he could more or less trust them with most things… This was something that wasn’t just his secret, so he would keep close to his chest unless he and his Brothers could talk freely about what they should tell the firstborns here, if anything. “We’re not in a Black Templar Field Tent, nor medical bay. Just relax and let me help.”

“Oh… Since when were you assigned to Salamanders? Or are we rendezvousing with them on whatever planet this is? And why was I-” Pallius asked.

Oh no. Cedric had a guess as to where this line of questioning was going, and he quickly nipped that in the bud, not wanting Pallius to reveal information to two Firstborn Marines he hadn’t clocked were here that had no idea about Certain Things. He cut Pallius off “Things are a touch complicated, right now. I’ll answer all of your questions once you are fully patched up. I’ve got some help in the form of an Ultramarine Apothecary and a D…” If he said Death Guard, Pallius would Panic hard, doing no one any good whatsoever “Dusk Raider Apothecary. He’s been Temporally displaced.”

“Oh… Okay… Should I stop talking altogether, then? So I don’t distract the three of you?” Pallius asked, voice more subdued.

“No, we need you to stay awake, ideally. Talk about whatever you like. Do you have any hobbies?” Zariel asked “Hobbies being things that you do in your downtime, that aren’t training or sleeping.”

“Uhm… Does praying count?” Pallius asked “I like singing hymns with my brothers. Even if some of them are off-key, ‘s nice. Feels like we’re together and united as one. Even…”

“Even if sometimes you argue or squabble with them?” Hura offered, a small smile on the Chaos Marine’s face “I understand those feelings, young one. Apart from praying, what do you do?”

“Isn’t being off-task Heretical? Least… That’s what he says.” Pallius asks, a sullen note in his voice, blue eyes darkening a little.

“Who says that? He’s wrong, by the way. Doing things that aren’t related to battle, war, or prayer isn’t heretical.” Zariel chimed in. 

By the God-Emperor, Cedric did not want to have to deal with the fallout of where this conversation was going and quickly redirected Pallius. “Palli… Why do you smell like a mortal?”

Pallius, even concussed, did not trust most Firstborn marines even the distance that he could throw them, armored or otherwise and thus took Cedric’s prompting as the unsubtle out it was “Pretty blue haired mortal found me before the ‘manders did. They smelled nice, and their voice was so nice to hear and they make my chest all warm an’ soft. I never did get the whole protectors of the Imperium thing very well. Until I met that mortal… We are created to serve and die so that the civilians like them can live in peace and safety… Wanna protect and provide for them soooo much. Feel the need to go find them now, but I can’t. Legs don’t work.” Pallius sulked as he said those last three words. “You… You’ll make sure I can walk, right? An’ protect the pretty mortal, Ced?”

“I’ll do my best, Pallius. But you’ve got to listen to me, when I tell you to do stuff, or to not do the things I tell you not to. So that you can recover and go talk to that pretty mortal again.” Cedric reminded Pallius, a small grin appearing on his face at how adorably smitten his brother was at so chance an encounter. “Tell me more about them, if you can?” He was about to mention Ramiel… But mentioning Ramiel might bring him to the forefront of Pallius’ mind, and that was a nest of warp-spawn he did not have the ordinance to deal with right now.

Pallius’ whole face lit up with joy and love in a way that Cedric had never seen before on his usually stern and taciturn brother. He rambled about everything he knew about them… Which, admittedly wasn’t much, but he did so over and over again, until he was fully patched up, and transferred to a more comfortable medical cot to recuperate. 

“Oh Cedric…” Hura called out as the younger Apothecary sat down in one of the visitor’s chairs in the room that Pallius was temporarily assigned. “Could we talk privately, please?”

“Not right now. Pallius is a flight risk, and I have to catch up on charting from earlier in the day. My shift ended twenty minutes ago.” Cedric answered. There was. No fucking way he wanted to have any conversation Hura intended on trying to force out of him with the ominous thundercloud of a frown on his face.

“... Fine. But we will be talking. And soon.” The older Apothecary warned.

“... Noted.” Cedric responded. Fuck, he needed to warn the others to stay away from an information seeking Apothecary Hura… and probably Apothecary Zariel as well. Hopefully the chaos of this festival week would drive any unfortunate questions out of their minds and Cedric wouldn’tbe forced to tell half-truths and utter grox-shit to them on the fly. 

Hura harrumphed and left the room, closing the door behind him firmly.

Cedric groaned and slumped in the chair, hiding his face in his hands.

“Did… Did I fuck up?” Pallius asked, voice wavering a little.

“A bit. Not irreparably and things are different here in ways that I will explain to you once your concussion heals. But, to put your mind at ease neither the one who hurt you, nor the one who sent you to him can reach you here. You are safe from that, at least.” Cedric explained with a sigh “You will be able to heal in safety here.”

“... But what did you exchange for that?” Pallius asked, voice still shaking.

“Nothing I’m not willing to trade for. Worry not, Brother dear.” Cedric hummed, gently squeezing the other’s uninjured shoulder. “Sleep. I will keep watch.”

“Alright. I’ll hold you to the promised explanation later.” Pallius grumbled before cloning his eyes and falling asleep.

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

Oh hey...Another bastard who needs his fingers pulled put...lovely....

But it does add greater context. As to why Petras could get away with the shit he did for so long.

We already kinda knew that. But knowing And Seeing an actual example...it hits different.

Hope Tibase is one of the fuckers the High Marshall put down. Rest in pieces.

Pallius and Rami getting to make up...Now That is wonderful.

Precious lads.

Shattered like Porcelain

Author's note: More of Ramiel in husbandry. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Pallais.

Summary: Ramiel remembers one of the times Pallius getting punished by Petras

Warning: Excessive punishments. Let me know if I need to add anything else.

Past =-= Next

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Ramiel was waiting for the go-ahead from Cedric, rather than Apothecary Zariel or Hura on when/if Pallius wanted to see him. He had gotten a warning from Cedric about the information seeking cousins Hura and Zariel. It's easy to avoid and evade them, keep in the Reclusiam and do duty tasks and chores.

Although it is significantly harder to avoid the older Chaplains who have been informed of this, likely the Teal Ultramarine is asking concerned questions to Salamander Chaplain Bo'shan.

Who he has noticed has been quietly watching him for the last half an hour with increasing intensity. Closing his eyes briefly, he rolls his shoulders and opens them again before heading over to the older Chaplain and greeting him properly.

Chaplain Bo'shan is smiling warmly at him in a way that has his stomach clenched as he keeps his face impassive. Fuck. He's going to ask questions.

“Greetings Chaplain Bo'shan,” Ramiel says politely, “how may I serve?”

Pallius argues with Ramiel about how the other speaks. How Pallius needs to remember to be respectful and dutiful towards their elder brothers.

“I should only show such care when it is returned!” Pallius snaps back. “The shithead of a mentor that picked me is not training me. He's beating the shit out of me too much too often for it to be training! Especially with how much better our ‘peers’ in the First Borns our age are being treated!”

“I know that their treatment of us is not ideal,” Ramiel say, "but if you keep pushing too much too quickly it won't end well.”

“If I didn't know any better,” Pallius snarls back, “I would think that you are a coward Ramiel.”

“I am not a coward!” Ramiel protests loudly. Hurt and angry at the others' cruel words, “you need to keep your mouth shut sometimes!”

“Greetings Chaplain Ramiel,” the older space marine says warmly. “One of your brothers came in wounded, but recovering, a Pallius, I think Cedric calls him. Did you want to see how he is doing?”

Ramiel kept his posture as carefully neutral as possible, as he looks up at Chaplain Bo'shan and away and tries not to let his voice crack with emotions, “I really want to see how he is doing. So long as it doesn't disturb his recovery.”

“I will not! I refuse to!” Pallius snarls in response, “not when the firstborn brothers our age are treated so much better.”

“What is this?” A voice calls out and Ramiel freezes and tries not to flinch. Fuck. His mentor heard part of the argument.

“My deepest apologies, Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras,” Ramiel says, “Pallius and I got into a… heated debate.”

Bo'shan gives Ramiel a warm smile, the younger space marine is always so concerned about the welfare of his brothers. It's rather heartening to see, even though he has rather high and exacting standards for himself. Despite the occasional Black Templar Temper Flare, young Ramiel tries so hard to keep his temper in check.

He tries to be understanding and forgiving and careful of the boundaries set by others. Teaching him to figure out and enforce his own boundaries is something that Bo'shan is helping the younger space marine learn and figure out. He is concerned about the way Ramiel is hesitant to meet other Black Templars, especially fellow Chaplains. Of the Primaris Space Marines he is the only one that really Interacts with First Born Space marines regularly, and that's mostly due to what his specialty is, or so it feels like.

“Ah, Pallius. Good, I needed to speak with you. Ramiel. Come join us.” Petras orders.

“Yes sir,” Ramiel and Pallius says at the same time.

Pallius is confused by how pale and stricken, for a moment Ramiel was as the other Primaris Space Marines throws him a half pleading expression as he uses battle sign [follow my lead].

Then again… some of the Black Templar Chaplains can be a bit too heavy handed with physical punishment. Bo'shan tries not to frown, as that tends to make Ramiel… nervous. Bo'shan wishes that Ramiel would open up and trust him, as he can tell the younger space marine has not had the easiest time of things.

He knows that Ramiel is Scout Aged, he has no brass bolts that denote his decades of service. Bo'shan knows that Ramiel and the others are all under 50, but how close that first bolt he doesn't know. As a Chaplain and one who has been one for several centuries he can usually guess the ages of his younger brothers and cousins. It's more difficult to do so with the Primaris Space Marines, but he has a suspicion it's distressing young.

Pallius was a little confused on what Ramiel meant by that. Pallius scowls when he sees his so called mentor, the too hard training fuck wit in the same room.

“My dear brother Sargent Atrem Tibase, is owed an apology and some restitution for your disrespect to his august person, Apprentice Pallius.” Petras says.

Pallius screws up in rage, and he shakes off Ramiel and the way the other taped on his shoulder, demanding that he apologizes. “with all due respect, no. I won't apologize.”

“It is good to care for your brother’s,” Bo'shan says, “but he’s been asking to meet his brothers on this base. A… strong personality, that one.”

Ramiel’s lips twitch a little bit at that, Pallius could be a stubborn, belligerent, and angry soul. Would rage at how they were treated so differently from their firstborn peers. How it was not okay that his Mentor was not treating him well.

“No?” Petras says voice is deceptively mild. “I see.”

“I told you he was a disrespectful little shit,” Sargent Tibase says, “I leave him in your capable hands for punishment.”

Petras looks toward the Sargent and clicks his tongue, “Very well then.”

Ramiel tries not to fidget as he remembers how vocal and loud Pallius could get and how he pointed out the hypocrisy and blatantly unfair treatment and how he wouldn't take getting ill treated by any one, especially the so-called Mentor that had chosen. Ramiel follows quietly after Bo'shan to see Pallius who is trying to talk Cedric into doing something, and his gaze flickers over to Ramiel and he sees the moment when Pallius recognizes him. He opens his mouth to speak, spots Bo'shan and his words are, different than Ramiel thought they were going to be.

“It's good to see you again.” Pallius says.

“I..” Ramiel’s voice cracks.

“Ramiel, help Pallius out of his armor for the punishment.” Petras orders him sternly.

“Yes sir,” Ramiel says as Pallius shakes his head stubbornly.

“I am not getting out of my armor!” Pallius protests hotly, “nor will I submit myself to undeserved punishment!”

“You did what you had to do,” Pallius says, shaking his head a little, then clutching his head with a groan. “I should have listened better. You have always been one of our smarter brothers, Rami. And astute at keeping your mouth shut and trying to do the same for others… I… need to work on listening.”

Bo'shan can tell there is much festering between them. However, neither are comfortable with speaking it out loud with him so close. “If you need something, you have my vox number.”

“You do not get to decide that Apprentice Pallius,” Petras says, dropping his pleasant act as he backhand Pallius with his full strength. He was in full armor.

Pallius staggers back and is stunned, Ramiel rushes over to his brother and hisses in his ear quietly enough that Petras likely won't hear or will ignore it.

“Pallius, stand down the more you fight this, the worse it will be,” Ramiel hisses.

“Yes sir, I will keep that in mind, sir.” Ramiel says with a nod.

The three of them look at each other quietly as he checks to make sure that Bo'shan is out of hearing range. He glances around to ensure that certain sneaky teal Ultramarines aren't nearby. Nor distressingly sneaky and giant chaos death guard lurking nearby.

“Pallius,” Ramiel says, his voice cracking a little. “I am so sorry.”

While Pallius is reeling, he tugs off the other’s upper armor without his brother fighting him too much. He does start struggling a bit, and Petras sighs, “at least you got his upper armor off. Move or be punished with him.”

Ramiel hesitates for a hearts beat as he moves away. He had just finished healing from taking a punishment for Cedric last week, and while normally he'd be willing to take some of the punishment. Cedric had warned him off of doing that because if he didn't let some of his scars fully heal, then it could potentially give him movement and other issues down the line.

Petras pulls out the electro whip, Ramiel’s hearts sank to his stomach. He really didn't like that weapon at all. Peteas uses the whip to pull Pallius to the ground and He watches as Petras beats and kicks out with his boosted feet, as well as stomp, hard, on the Pallius fingers, the sickening crack of bone snapping had him flinching a little.

“I accept your apology,” Pallius says as Ramiel rushes over to gently hug his wounded brother. “Like I said before, I should have listened to what you were saying Before better.”

“I wish I could have explained it better,” Ramiel replies.

“Things are fucked back in M42.” Pallius says. “Cedric has been explaining things to me…Ancient holy Terra… wow.”

Ramiel nods, knowing what it was that was so… surprising about it. Despite being trained and raised on Holy Mars. None of them had thought they would ever step foot on Holy Terra.

[sleepyfan-blog]

My OCs

A quick blurb about a bunch of my OCs! Under the cut because there are many of them, haha

tagged: @c-u-c-koo-4-40k

Captain Micah Ash'val: Firstborn Salamander Scout Captain. Pre-heresy. He’s a classic Salamander; warm, protective, caring… Ferociously protective of his charges and has a very terrifying temper once it’s finally roused. Is currently plotting with the rest of the Dad/Big Brother Squad to find whoever’s been Causing Problems and deal with them.

Sevros Alvros: Firsborn Black Templar. Cedric’s Mentor in M42. Protective, gruff and cares very much for his apprentice. He’s the chief apothecary of his crusade of Black Templars and holds significant sway within the crusade he belongs to because of that. Staunchly in favor of accepting the Primaris marines. Has clashed multiple times with those who aren’t as accepting. 

Agrald: Primaris Black Templar battle brother. He’s dead in M2. Squad leader, was in leadership training. Protective, angry, did his best to keep his brothers away from the Shitty Older Brothers as best as he could while alive. 

Amicus De’leth: Brother-sargeant of the Ultramarines. Lives on the base, helped get Cedric settled in initially. Stalwart, honorable and patrols the town that his bonded lives in regularly.  

Amira: The daughter of Amicus’ bonded human. Sweet, kind and utterly unafraid of any Marines as she knows several and cares for them very much and trusts them. 

Andrew: Young bonded human of Benji. Gave Benji his name and adores his older brother Astartes to pieces. Sweet, friendly and mildly terrified of the doctors.

Alois: Primaris Black Templar. Dead in M42, killed by Petras’ temper because he would not humbly submit to the other’s verbal lashing and humiliation any longer. Tried to point out the utter hypocrisy and groxshit that Petras was doing and saying by acting the way that he was while trying to hold Alois and his brothers to a different standard. 

Arkhos: Firstborn Chaos Blood Angel. Part of a wandering warband of chaos astartes with Samos and Leviath. Thoroughly enjoys the gifts that Khorne has granted him. Is fascinated by ancient Terra and is very flirtatious, especially when the Red Thirst rises.

Angrets: Bloodclaw, Space Wolf. Apothecary in training. He is mouthy and impulsive, which can lead to Problems when his mouth gets him into more trouble than he knows how to deal with.

Alois Zimmer:  Firstborn Black Templar brother-sargeant. Part of the  Sprechembriech Crusade. He is protective of his fellow Black Templars and does not trust that the traitors and heretics will keep to their end of the bargains that the naive loyalists have made with them on ancient terra. He is a decent enough second in command, and does not question the authority of those above him. 

Banigh: Firstborn Bloodclaw Space Wolf, part of a wandering warband. Pre-heresy. Very much enjoys watching the chaos that Frengir causes and will eagerly join in if he thinks his brother needs help. 

Benji: Chaos world eater. Growly as fuck and incredibly protective of his very tiny bonded human. Encourages tiny human to explore Ancient Terra and do whatever he wants. 

Belek: night lord apothecary in training, and currently under the tutelage of several NL apothecaries. Quiet, stealthy and has learned when to duck when shit hits the fan and it is 1-800-not-his-problem to deal with.

Sargeant Brenthom: Firstbornn Black Templar. He is a member of Petras’ Crusade in Ancient Terra. He is grumpy and deeply suspicious of non-black templars in this time period he finds himself in. Especially of Filthy Traitors and Fucking Chaos Bastards. Will back up his fellow Black Templars in any scrap they get into, no matter who started it or why.

Crystal: Blue haired human teenager in Ancient Terra. She and her friends snuck into the Astartes base out of curiosity and were found by Cedric. She offered him a place to stay in the group home that she lives in noticing his anxiety. Later, she became snap-bonded to Pallius as he lay dying on Ancient Terra. She is unaware of this bond. She is curious, rebellious and kind. 

Cazzard: Firstborn Black Templar. Part of the  Sprechembriech Crusade. He is grumpy and wary of Outsiders - outsiders being anyone who isn’t a Black Templar. He is curious about the rumors that there are Primaris Marines on Ancient Terra and would like to meet them. Gruff and no-nonsense.

Dovo: Primaris Black Templar battle brother He’s dead in M2. Cheerful and does his best to find the bright side of situations. Demolitions expert in training. He loves himself a good explosion or ten. You can definitely trust him around explosives of any kind unsupervised. :3

Dessias: Primaris Black Templar battle brother He’s dead in M2. Stubborn, loyal and always the first into battle, both to win glory and to protect his brothers from incoming fire. 

Captain Detrich: Firstborn Black Templar. In M42 he’s been recently entombed in a dreadnought and is fucking pissed about it. He’s a terrifying melee combatant. Very short temper and finds the primaris reinforcements useful. They need all the bodies they can get to serve against the many enemies of the Imperium and finds that just killing them to be a pointless waste of resources. 

Deimos: Firstborn Alpha Legionnaire. Trickster, prankster and loves to infiltrate places and learn their innermost secrets so that if/when needed he can blackmail and coerce those around him into compliance. Has a friendly rivalry with certain brothers. 

Darsas: Firstborn Chaos Death Guard. He’s been around for over ten-thousand years. Loves to spread the blessings of grandfather nurgle :) loves everyone and wants them to be happy. Will use his considerable psyker powers to ensure that people are Happy and Fine. Has known @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan ‘s Hura for a very long time. 

Enki: Mid-heresy thousand son. Was taken days before the Burning of Prospero and is incredibly suspicion and hostile towards any Space Wolf he sees. Master flesh-crafter and very annoyed that the warp is so difficult to use on Ancient Terra.  Is in a warband with Tallis and Rao.

Frengir: Firstborn Bloodclaw Space Wolf, part of a wandering warband. He loves to fight and is quick to anger. Prideful and believes that his legion is The Best. Pre-heresy. 

Hagiel: Brother-sargeant of the Lamenters third company. He has the bad luck that plagues many of the Lamenters. Currently stuck trying to rebuild a half-destroyed city before the Ultramarines show up to inspect things

Janison: Firstborn Bloodclaw Space Wolf, part of a wandering warband. Pre-heresy. Tries to keep the peace when Frengir tries to start shit, mostly because they all get yelled at if they fight outside of the areas that they are supposed to. 

Joth: Chaos world eater. Good boi. Mildly anxious whenever he can’t see the human who took him in. May or may not be slowly Bonding with said human. Has realized that there may be Sad Neophytes/Scouts on ancient terra in need of cuddles and food and will find them

Kox: Firstborn Luna Wolf Scout. Very honored to be picked to be mentored by one of the Mournival. Has yet to actually meet Horus, but is eager to prove himself and serve his gene-father and the Imperium for the rest of his days. 

Leviath: Firstborn Chaos Blood Angel. Part of a wandering warband of chaos astartes with Samos and Arkos. 

Lycus: Firsborn Wordbearer chaplain. Early heresy, before the word bearers fell to chaos. Deeply distressed by how far his legion fell, and to the depravity that they happily wallow in. Intensely religious and passionate about it, though he does not actively seek to proselytize to others unless he is on Crusade as he feels that the beliefs that others hold are just as valid as his own. (which makes him a radical in his legion)

Lestras: Primaris Black Templar. Dead in M42 and on Ancient terra. Quiet and dutiful for the most part. Loves learning about stars and planets and his dearest wish was to be part of the exploration arm of the Black Templar fleet.

Miles: Firstborn Black Templar. Part of the  Sprechembriech Crusade. Was badly injured during a punishment delivered by Petras. He is a dutiful and loyal son of Dorn. he would also like everyone to please get along :(

Melinth: Firstborn Imperial Fist Apothecary. Head apothecary in the base that Cedric lives in. He is strict, by the book and has a great deal of scientific curiosity. Blunt and does not see the point in mincing words or dancing around the topic of conversation, no matter how fraught said topic might be. 

Mattias: Primaris Black Templar. Part of the  Sprechembriech Crusade.  Fantastic short-range and melee fighter. Has a special interest in learning how to wield every kind of weapon that he can get his hands on. Loves to encourage the interests of his Brothers. Playful and protective of those whom he cares for. Recent arrival on Ancient Terra and was promptly adopted by a group of firstborn brothers. Things were great until that Angry Chaplain beat the shit out of him :(

Munse: Primaris Black Templar battle brother. Recently assgined to Cedric’s squad. He gets into so, so many fights with his agemates. Especially those who aren’t primaris marines because he can see the difference in how they are treated and thinks that it’s absolute grox-shite. Will fight anyone, at any time, for any reason.

Malachai: Primaris Black Templar. He’s dead from his wounds inflicted on him by Petras and Ramiel. He was incredibly protective and caring of his brothers, and would deliberately try and draw the ire away from his other brothers in order to protect them. This habit of his combined with Petras’ temper is what got him killed, ultimately. 

Nadesir: chaos night lord. Would like idiots to stop trying to steal his bonded. She is happy where she is and he will Cut A Bitch (or twelve) to stop this from happening. >:(

Olivar: Primaris Black Templar. Currently healing in Ancient Terra and trying to process all of the Everything he is learning about what is going on. Full of piss and vinegar and deeply suspicious of all firstborn marines. If he doesn’t have his helmet on and is fighting he will bite.  

Pallius: Primaris Black Templar. He has the fury endemic to the Black Templars, and tries to conduct himself honorably. (He is a young Knight Errant). Has been on Ancient Terra for less than a week and met his bonded within 5 minutes of arriving. No he has no idea what Bonded are nor that he is bonded. He just. He really needs to find that nice baseline human. Cedric please let him up. 

Rodron: Primaris Black Templar battle brother He’s dead in M2. He has some sniper specialization. Yes he got teased about it because Black Templars overwhelmingly prefer to use melee/short range combat. Quiet, watchful and fiercely protective of his brothers. ]

Rao: pre-heresy word bearer. Voice of reason and very amused by the antics of his warpy Cousins. Would like to Bond with a human one day, but isn’t trying to go out and find any human to bond with. The god-emperor provides and if he’s meant to be bonded, a bond will come his way.

Savald: Firstborn Black Templar. Part of the  Sprechembriech Crusade. A dutiful brother of the Black Templars. His rage has been tempered by the years of experience that he has, forged in the cleansing fires of war. Petras’ wrath concerns him, but he feels that it is not his place to speak up. 

Samos: Firstborn Chaos Blood Angel. Part of a wandering warband of chaos astartes with Arkos and Leviath. Leader of the warband. He is a powerful and terrifying hunter when the mood strikes, though it’s far more fun if those who he feeds from agrees to let him. Playful and utterly vicious when his wrath is invoked. Despises Black Legionnaires and Chaos Word Bearers as he blames them for the death of his primarch. 

Sirass: Firstborn Iron Warrior. Grumpy, vicious in battle and utterly ruthless when he has to be. Does not tolerate failure well, especially if he himself is failing an assigned task/mission. 

Sigisrim:Firstborn Black Templar. Part of the  Sprechembriech Crusade. Gruff and protective of his brohters. He is a veteran of one of the campagins against the endless Orkish hordes. Growly and short-tempered, though he does have a soft-spot for mortals and will do what he can to protect them. 

Tallis: Pre-heresy Thousand son, who was suffering from the start of the Flesh Change in his native time. That seems to have stopped, now that he’s in Ancient terra. Powerful psyker and prone to getting absorbed into his experiments with warpcraft… Sometimes to the detriment of his health and sanity. Fascinated by the different kind of Bonds. Is in a warband with Enki and Rao

Toroz: Firstborn Black Templar. Part of the  Sprechembriech Crusade. Is actually an Alpha Legionnaire in disguise. He has been embedded in the crusade since it’s founding and has been sending information to his handler-brother on the sly whenever he can. Is very concerned about Petras’ increasingly violent manner and has taken Cedric’s warning to heart. If only he’d been able to convince the others…

Trai: Firstborn Chaos Word Bearer. He is here to spread the word of the Chaos Gods and to bring down the False Emperor. He has no gods-damned idea where he is or what is going on, but is delighted to learn about local customs. 

Yonnas Bilnes: Brother-captain of the Imperial fists. Firstborn. Calm, steady and incredibly busy, as he helps the base commandant manage things. 

Zalthes: Firstborn Iron Ultramarine. He is incredibly flirtatious and is happy dtf anyone interested so long as he has the time. Will flirt with someone he finds attractive even in dangerous times, and is very confident in his combat prowess. Show off /affectionate

Zagan: Battle Brother of the Grey Knights. Spooky bastard and revels in causing problems for the enemy he faces. Powerful psyker. Most of his stories are currently in the celestial seas au.

[bleedingichorhearts]

Aww, what a cutie! A reasonable one too! Someone get this babi his bonded! He’s going to have to explain to his brethren too!

In The Medbay

Author’s Note: This is the second part of Pallius’ in Husbandry. First. Other Black Templar adventures here. Thank you to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for letting me borrow her oc Zariel!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 

Warnings: none? Please ask me to tag something if I need to.

Summary: Pallius wakes up. He’s surprised by this. This is only the first of many surprises in store for the young Black Templar.

Pallius was pleasantly surprised to find himself awake. Considering how badly He had beaten him, the young Primaris Marine hadn’t expected to survive it. He wouldn’t have been the first Primaris Marine to fall to Petras’ bad temper and lethal hands, though he knew that the medicae would do their best to stabilize him, if he was able to be found in time. How he had ended up on a world with civilians on it, when he had been aboard The Sigismund when the punishment Petras had been delivering unto him moments ago made no sense whatsoever. 

His wounds ached somewhat, but far less than he was expecting them to… Was… Was he being given morpha, to relieve some of his pain? Pallius’ eyes shot open, and the view of an astartes-sized and grade medical bay filled his vision. He spotted a couple of Ultramarine apothecaries tending to other patients, moving swiftly and efficiently between them. 

… How had he ended up on a world of Ultramar? The Sigismund had been deep in Imperium Nihilus, chasing rumors of a second Primarch's possible awakening… And the strange moments of The Dark Angels…

Well, stranger movements of the Dark Angels. That particular chapter of Astartes had always been extremely secretive and unwilling to explain anything whatsoever. The way they operated reminded him of the Silver Bastard Trainers back on Mars. The ones he wasn't supposed to talk or even think about very much.

Despite the odd mysteries before him, his mind wandered back to the young mortal who had first found him, upon this world. She had been scared for him, and so earnestly trying to help. Her light touches had soothed wherever they had landed, and her voice had been a soothing balm to his ragged, guilt-ridden soil. Pallius needed to find her.

The young Black Templar looked down at himself assessingly. He had an IV attached to a clear plastic bag that was dripping… Something into his veins. His wounds that needed it were bandaged and presumably cleaned beforehand, per proper protocols.

And if there was one thing Ultramarines were good at, it was following proper protocol. Most of them, anyways.

Pallius’ body was covered by some egregious thin and flimsy light blue smock-thing and a blanket. He wiggled his toes, finding them free of the Vile Abominations known as socks, and bare. He needed to find that baseline mortal and thank her for what she had done. It was as if someone had tied steel cabling to the deepest part of his soul and tethered him to that mortal girl. He found that he did not mind this tether, but the near-frantic urge to find her and keep her safe and happy was enough to force him up and off of the comfortable bed.

A wave of morpha-induced dizziness hit Pallius hard as he managed to silently heave himself off of the bed and onto his bare feet. His fingers clumsily tied the blanket around himself over one shoulder in a parody of a toga, but it was better than the gown-thing he was wearing underneath the blanket alone.

One of his hands flew over to and grasped the IV pole, allowing himself to steady against it. Some clever soul had attached wheels to the base of the pole, which meant pushing it and the IV attached to him a lot easier. His wounds all protested simultaneously at the movement, but Pallius ignored them with all of the grit and determination that he could muster.

Pallius allowed himself a couple of seconds to breathe silently through the pain before taking a quiet step toward the medbay doors. Then another. Then a third. The young Black Templar moved slowly and with caution, so as to not aggravate his still-healing wounds to the best of his abilities, willing none of the Apothecaries to come over and bother him.

He had a (self-imposed) mission to complete, and by the God Emperor Himself, Pallius would see it done, or die in the process. Nothing and no one would be able to stop him on this righteous quest. Pallius continued to make his way to the medbay doors, and reached about three-quarters of the way there from the bed he’d woken up in, when an amused voice drawled out from behind him.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Scout?” One of the Ultramarines called out, an amused expression on his face and mirth shining in his blue-black eyes. 

“I need to find the mortal who first helped me. She was so nice and worried and I… I need to reassure her that I have survived. Do you know where she is?” Pallius asked, having partially turned to explain himself to the Apothecary before returning to his task of Leaving The Medbay.

“... And you want to find the mortal who helped you dressed like this, do you?” The Ultramarine asked, sounding very judgmental and amused.

Rude bastard. “Do you have any better ideas?” Pallius huffed, scowling (not pouting! He was a space marine, damn it) down at the older but shorter Astartes. “Or know where I may borrow some better clothes?”

“The answer to both of those questions is yes.” The Ultramarine Apothecary answered, still clearly laughing at him silently. “But first, please sit down. There is much to explain to you, and I daresay the explanation will help.”

Pallius blinked, obeying the tone of command without thought. A sigh of relief left him and the gray that had been eating at the edges of his vision faded. The pain ebbed and hey, he could breathe better again. “Will the explanation include how I arrived on a world of Ultramar?”

“Considering who you see in the medbay, I understand why you’ve guessed that. But no, we are not within the Realm of Ultramar. We are on Terra.” The Ultramarine revealed.

The Primaris Marine physically recoiled a little in shock and surprise, a silent gasp leaving him, his eyes widening as he tried to process this information. “H… Holy Terra? But… But I was many years from the Sol system, even by Warp Travel… And I thought that Terra’s atmosphere had long since become thin and heavily polluted. That is what we were told, sir.”

“In M42, this is true. However -” The Ultramarine - who introduced himself as Apothecary Zariel - explained the utterly wild and nonsensical tale of time travel that apparently every Marine currently on M3 Holy Terra had somehow undergone. Allegedly Zariel was from M36. He talked of the alliance, of bonds, of many fantastical and heretical things, ending with “And, as I can tell you don’t believe most of what I say -not that I blame you for that young one, this is a tale I would scarcely believe myself if I did not have proof of it, there are a few other Primaris Marines from M42 on base. I have asked two of them to join us. Cedric - who is an apothecary, and Ramiel, who is a Chaplain-in-training. Both of them are also Primaris Black Templars.”

“... Could you go over what these bonds are? How do you know if you have a bond? They… They aren’t heretical, are they?” Pallius asked, light blue eyes widening in surprise and recognition of the names of two of his Brothers.

Zariel smiled and gently patted one of his shoulders, having sat down partway through the long-winded lecture of absolute nonsense that he’d been trying to feed him. Why the other was trying to lie to Pallius so much, the young marine couldn’t begin to guess. All the other had to say was that it was classified for him to know where he was, and Pallius would have accepted that from the other. “Most commonly, a marine bonded to a baseline human feels the need to protect and care for that human. To ensure that they are happy and loved and that they know this. It is also common to want to spend as much time as possible around the human one is bonded to, and to feel a sense of anxiety or concern when away from one’s human for one reason or another.”

Pallius’ eyes widened and he fidgeted with his hands a little, looking away from the older Marine “And… And these bonds, they are… They are good things?”

“Yes, lad, They are wonderful gifts. Is there a particular reason why you ask?” Zariel asked, and he could hear a smile in the other’s voice.

“I think. I think I have a bonded human. The blue haired human who helped me until medicae got on the scene. I feel… I need. I need to find her. I need to make sure that she’s okay. I want to see her smile and laugh and be happy. I-I need to let her know that her care and concern weren’t wasted on someone who died, or does not think of her concern as the precious gift it is.” Pallius explained, a desperate desire to explain himself rising up within the young marine. “Please… I… I need to find her. To see her again.”

“Easy… Easy… Deep breaths. Follow my lead, lad.” Zariel instructed him, breathing in the manner that he wanted Pallius to copy. “Once you’re in a bit better shape -”

Pallius shook his head, his eyes wide and pleading “No! No, I need to see her now! I can’t… It can’t wait! I… I need to see her again. I will leave this medbay and find her on my own, the moment you leave me alone. Please! Her presence was a soothing balm. I know that I would do much better, heal faster, were she around.”

“Do you want your bonded human to see you half-dead from your wounds and half-delirious from both the morpha and blood loss?” Zariel asked, a sharpness in his voice, but a gentle understanding on his face. 

A chill ran through him. Would she see him as an ill-fitting protector, if she were to be brought to him while he was so injured, so frantic? The urge to find her was nearly all-consuming… But the idea of her rejecting him because he was a weak mess of emotions and injuries was enough to get him to stop dead in his tracks, both literally and metaphorically. “I… No…” He answered, his voice small and meek. “I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, I’m going to help you back to your bed. There are some gentle exercises that I will be happy to teach you that will help you heal better, but you must listen to me. You also must not push yourself, or you will strain your injuries and cause them to take longer to heal.” Zariel rumbled, a stern expression on his face.

Pallius ducked his head, shame burning in his hearts “Yes sir… Sorry sir…”

The stern expression on Zariel’s face softened somewhat. “I understand your eagerness to meet your bonded again. I, too have a bonded human. They are a wonderful companion, however the baseline you are bonded to would be distraught to see you in such a weakened state. Not because she’d judge you for being so badly hurt, but because she’d worry as to how you got into such a state. M3 is much more peaceful, and isolated from the horrors of the Galaxy. You want to be at your best when you meet her properly, yes?”

“Yes sir!” Pallius answered, nodding. He still felt the desire to go find the human he was Bonded to, but was able to temper that desire with the knowledge that he did not want to find them, only to collapse into a puddle of pain and bloodied meat before her feet. He obediently followed Zariel back to his bed and laid down, a sigh of relief leaving him, his eyes closing as he was stunned by how exhausted the short distance he had moved had made him.

Zariel untied the blanket he’d been wearing and tucked him into bed, running a gentle hand through his hair. “Sleep well, young one. Try not to sprint for the medbay doors when you wake up again, mm?”

“Yes sir…” Pallius yawned, letting himself settle into the comfortable embrace of sleep.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Pallius wants to see his bonded so badly! But good thing Zariel is there to catch him and explain things before he got too far. And Zariel reveals he also has a bonded? 👀

In The Medbay

Author’s Note: This is the second part of Pallius’ in Husbandry. First. Other Black Templar adventures here. Thank you to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for letting me borrow her oc Zariel!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 

Warnings: none? Please ask me to tag something if I need to.

Summary: Pallius wakes up. He’s surprised by this. This is only the first of many surprises in store for the young Black Templar.

Pallius was pleasantly surprised to find himself awake. Considering how badly He had beaten him, the young Primaris Marine hadn’t expected to survive it. He wouldn’t have been the first Primaris Marine to fall to Petras’ bad temper and lethal hands, though he knew that the medicae would do their best to stabilize him, if he was able to be found in time. How he had ended up on a world with civilians on it, when he had been aboard The Sigismund when the punishment Petras had been delivering unto him moments ago made no sense whatsoever. 

His wounds ached somewhat, but far less than he was expecting them to… Was… Was he being given morpha, to relieve some of his pain? Pallius’ eyes shot open, and the view of an astartes-sized and grade medical bay filled his vision. He spotted a couple of Ultramarine apothecaries tending to other patients, moving swiftly and efficiently between them. 

… How had he ended up on a world of Ultramar? The Sigismund had been deep in Imperium Nihilus, chasing rumors of a second Primarch's possible awakening… And the strange moments of The Dark Angels…

Well, stranger movements of the Dark Angels. That particular chapter of Astartes had always been extremely secretive and unwilling to explain anything whatsoever. The way they operated reminded him of the Silver Bastard Trainers back on Mars. The ones he wasn't supposed to talk or even think about very much.

Despite the odd mysteries before him, his mind wandered back to the young mortal who had first found him, upon this world. She had been scared for him, and so earnestly trying to help. Her light touches had soothed wherever they had landed, and her voice had been a soothing balm to his ragged, guilt-ridden soil. Pallius needed to find her.

The young Black Templar looked down at himself assessingly. He had an IV attached to a clear plastic bag that was dripping… Something into his veins. His wounds that needed it were bandaged and presumably cleaned beforehand, per proper protocols.

And if there was one thing Ultramarines were good at, it was following proper protocol. Most of them, anyways.

Pallius’ body was covered by some egregious thin and flimsy light blue smock-thing and a blanket. He wiggled his toes, finding them free of the Vile Abominations known as socks, and bare. He needed to find that baseline mortal and thank her for what she had done. It was as if someone had tied steel cabling to the deepest part of his soul and tethered him to that mortal girl. He found that he did not mind this tether, but the near-frantic urge to find her and keep her safe and happy was enough to force him up and off of the comfortable bed.

A wave of morpha-induced dizziness hit Pallius hard as he managed to silently heave himself off of the bed and onto his bare feet. His fingers clumsily tied the blanket around himself over one shoulder in a parody of a toga, but it was better than the gown-thing he was wearing underneath the blanket alone.

One of his hands flew over to and grasped the IV pole, allowing himself to steady against it. Some clever soul had attached wheels to the base of the pole, which meant pushing it and the IV attached to him a lot easier. His wounds all protested simultaneously at the movement, but Pallius ignored them with all of the grit and determination that he could muster.

Pallius allowed himself a couple of seconds to breathe silently through the pain before taking a quiet step toward the medbay doors. Then another. Then a third. The young Black Templar moved slowly and with caution, so as to not aggravate his still-healing wounds to the best of his abilities, willing none of the Apothecaries to come over and bother him.

He had a (self-imposed) mission to complete, and by the God Emperor Himself, Pallius would see it done, or die in the process. Nothing and no one would be able to stop him on this righteous quest. Pallius continued to make his way to the medbay doors, and reached about three-quarters of the way there from the bed he’d woken up in, when an amused voice drawled out from behind him.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Scout?” One of the Ultramarines called out, an amused expression on his face and mirth shining in his blue-black eyes. 

“I need to find the mortal who first helped me. She was so nice and worried and I… I need to reassure her that I have survived. Do you know where she is?” Pallius asked, having partially turned to explain himself to the Apothecary before returning to his task of Leaving The Medbay.

“... And you want to find the mortal who helped you dressed like this, do you?” The Ultramarine asked, sounding very judgmental and amused.

Rude bastard. “Do you have any better ideas?” Pallius huffed, scowling (not pouting! He was a space marine, damn it) down at the older but shorter Astartes. “Or know where I may borrow some better clothes?”

“The answer to both of those questions is yes.” The Ultramarine Apothecary answered, still clearly laughing at him silently. “But first, please sit down. There is much to explain to you, and I daresay the explanation will help.”

Pallius blinked, obeying the tone of command without thought. A sigh of relief left him and the gray that had been eating at the edges of his vision faded. The pain ebbed and hey, he could breathe better again. “Will the explanation include how I arrived on a world of Ultramar?”

“Considering who you see in the medbay, I understand why you’ve guessed that. But no, we are not within the Realm of Ultramar. We are on Terra.” The Ultramarine revealed.

The Primaris Marine physically recoiled a little in shock and surprise, a silent gasp leaving him, his eyes widening as he tried to process this information. “H… Holy Terra? But… But I was many years from the Sol system, even by Warp Travel… And I thought that Terra’s atmosphere had long since become thin and heavily polluted. That is what we were told, sir.”

“In M42, this is true. However -” The Ultramarine - who introduced himself as Apothecary Zariel - explained the utterly wild and nonsensical tale of time travel that apparently every Marine currently on M3 Holy Terra had somehow undergone. Allegedly Zariel was from M36. He talked of the alliance, of bonds, of many fantastical and heretical things, ending with “And, as I can tell you don’t believe most of what I say -not that I blame you for that young one, this is a tale I would scarcely believe myself if I did not have proof of it, there are a few other Primaris Marines from M42 on base. I have asked two of them to join us. Cedric - who is an apothecary, and Ramiel, who is a Chaplain-in-training. Both of them are also Primaris Black Templars.”

“... Could you go over what these bonds are? How do you know if you have a bond? They… They aren’t heretical, are they?” Pallius asked, light blue eyes widening in surprise and recognition of the names of two of his Brothers.

Zariel smiled and gently patted one of his shoulders, having sat down partway through the long-winded lecture of absolute nonsense that he’d been trying to feed him. Why the other was trying to lie to Pallius so much, the young marine couldn’t begin to guess. All the other had to say was that it was classified for him to know where he was, and Pallius would have accepted that from the other. “Most commonly, a marine bonded to a baseline human feels the need to protect and care for that human. To ensure that they are happy and loved and that they know this. It is also common to want to spend as much time as possible around the human one is bonded to, and to feel a sense of anxiety or concern when away from one’s human for one reason or another.”

Pallius’ eyes widened and he fidgeted with his hands a little, looking away from the older Marine “And… And these bonds, they are… They are good things?”

“Yes, lad, They are wonderful gifts. Is there a particular reason why you ask?” Zariel asked, and he could hear a smile in the other’s voice.

“I think. I think I have a bonded human. The blue haired human who helped me until medicae got on the scene. I feel… I need. I need to find her. I need to make sure that she’s okay. I want to see her smile and laugh and be happy. I-I need to let her know that her care and concern weren’t wasted on someone who died, or does not think of her concern as the precious gift it is.” Pallius explained, a desperate desire to explain himself rising up within the young marine. “Please… I… I need to find her. To see her again.”

“Easy… Easy… Deep breaths. Follow my lead, lad.” Zariel instructed him, breathing in the manner that he wanted Pallius to copy. “Once you’re in a bit better shape -”

Pallius shook his head, his eyes wide and pleading “No! No, I need to see her now! I can’t… It can’t wait! I… I need to see her again. I will leave this medbay and find her on my own, the moment you leave me alone. Please! Her presence was a soothing balm. I know that I would do much better, heal faster, were she around.”

“Do you want your bonded human to see you half-dead from your wounds and half-delirious from both the morpha and blood loss?” Zariel asked, a sharpness in his voice, but a gentle understanding on his face. 

A chill ran through him. Would she see him as an ill-fitting protector, if she were to be brought to him while he was so injured, so frantic? The urge to find her was nearly all-consuming… But the idea of her rejecting him because he was a weak mess of emotions and injuries was enough to get him to stop dead in his tracks, both literally and metaphorically. “I… No…” He answered, his voice small and meek. “I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, I’m going to help you back to your bed. There are some gentle exercises that I will be happy to teach you that will help you heal better, but you must listen to me. You also must not push yourself, or you will strain your injuries and cause them to take longer to heal.” Zariel rumbled, a stern expression on his face.

Pallius ducked his head, shame burning in his hearts “Yes sir… Sorry sir…”

The stern expression on Zariel’s face softened somewhat. “I understand your eagerness to meet your bonded again. I, too have a bonded human. They are a wonderful companion, however the baseline you are bonded to would be distraught to see you in such a weakened state. Not because she’d judge you for being so badly hurt, but because she’d worry as to how you got into such a state. M3 is much more peaceful, and isolated from the horrors of the Galaxy. You want to be at your best when you meet her properly, yes?”

“Yes sir!” Pallius answered, nodding. He still felt the desire to go find the human he was Bonded to, but was able to temper that desire with the knowledge that he did not want to find them, only to collapse into a puddle of pain and bloodied meat before her feet. He obediently followed Zariel back to his bed and laid down, a sigh of relief leaving him, his eyes closing as he was stunned by how exhausted the short distance he had moved had made him.

Zariel untied the blanket he’d been wearing and tucked him into bed, running a gentle hand through his hair. “Sleep well, young one. Try not to sprint for the medbay doors when you wake up again, mm?”

“Yes sir…” Pallius yawned, letting himself settle into the comfortable embrace of sleep.

[bleedingichorhearts]

This is all lovely and loyalisty chaotic.😭 Brothers just… having fun every once in a while then doing know how to respond to complaining humans. Buddies still have a lot to learn. Oh, poor Cedric too, hearing the… intercourse.

Introductions

Author’s Note: This is the next part of Cedric’s adventures in the Husbandry AU! A big thanks to @kit-williams for allowing me to borrow her ocs Arnault, Roland, Angela and Backerin! Masterlist here

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@c-u-c-koo-4-40k

Warnings: Mentions of Petras and his bullshit, please ask me to tag something if I missed it/somethign bothers you

Summary: Cedric introduces Pallius and Olivar to Roland, Arnault and their bonded humans. 

“Olivar, Pallius how are you doing today?” Cedri asked curiously as he watched how two still-healing Brothers carefully stretch and limber up for the low-intensity physical training class that they were going to be participating in later today.

“... Pretty good. Why? Are they going to torment us with some other kinds of boring, basic exercises while not letting us outside of the base?” Olivar grumbled, a surly frown appearing on his face as he slowly eased himself through the leg stretches that he’d been ordered to use. Why the micromanaging bastards thought all of this was necessary when he’d been left to tend punishment-inflicted wounds on his own before, and had managed well enough on his own, thank you very much… The young Black Templar did not know. On the other hand, Cedric did say that his wounds had killed him in M42. 

“Are they concerned that Ancient Terra is so perilous that we need to be at our absolute best, when outside of the base? I know the legends say that cruel and mad sorcerer-kings fought over dominion of HOly Terra for years uncounted before He smote them  and the false idols they worshipped as Gods… But I thought that had been during The Long Night… Has Humanity already scattered across the stars?” Pallius asked, his blue-brown eyes shining with curiosity and nervousness in equal measure.

Cedric hesitated before answering “THe chief apothecary is limiting your movements in order to ensure that you both are healing correctly. There… As for the dangers of Ancient Holy Terra… The most dangerous threat to us as Astartes are the similarly time-displaced renegade and Heretic Astartes. However their witch-bond connection to the Warp is significantly reduced, and using the Warp for unnatural acts is much harder. In part due to the fact that the Eye of Terror does not exist at this point in time. At this time, only Holy Terra holds Humanity.”

“.. Does that mean that there are only three major ruinous powers at the moment?” Olivar asked, straightening out of his stretch, a curious expression appearing on his face “Why do our hosts -who are allegedly loyalists too, suffer traitors and worse to live?  The heretics could corrupt the mortals of this time. Why would they allow-” Olivar stood up, agitated and worried, starting to pace around “Is that why you’re being so cautious in what you tell us, Cedric? What… what bargains have you made in order to ensure that the supplies and time we are luxuriating in using to heal?”

Cedric blinked, reaching out to try and placate his easily riled brother “There are maybe upwards of five-hundred thousand Astartes total on Ancient and Holy Terra. There are less than ten billion mortals total on Ancient  Terra. Luna and Mars have yet to be colonized… Much less the Jovian shipyards and supporting moon colonies to be built. I have been told that should an all-out war happen between the different Astartes factions, it would only devastate humanity in it’s infancy and sabotage everything we stand for and wish to protect.”

“And what about the heretics and their corrupting natures? Or have the firstborns who run things not told you?” Pallius chimed in, visibly concerned. He had also stopped stretching, the information his brother was telling them was too important not to give his full and undivided attention to.

Cedric sighed “I have been told that there is a treaty in place that goes over those questions and a great many other concerns. Chaos and Witchery in general is much more difficult to use and reach here and now. I’ve been told this repeatedly… And both Claude and Jophiel agree with that, that Witchery is much harder to use.”

“Who else is here, that we know?” Oliver asked curiously, mind racing. He wasn’t sure how much he trusted the information about Witchery, but he could tell that Cedric was telling him the truth as he knew it.

“Alive? Ramiel, Olly, and…” Cedric swallowed hard “Chaplain captain Petras. The Honorable Chaplain leads a small band of Firstborn Brothers and wanders as the God Emperor wills them to. Dead? Malachai and Lestras. THey also arrived on Ancient Terra Badly injured… Unfortunately, they were too injured to survive their wounds, despite best efforts to keep them alive.”

The three of them weren’t the only ones in this training room - there were about a dozen or so injured Firstborn Brother-Cousins in groups of three to six, being monitored by an apothecary or well-trained mortal as they stretched and went about their exercises. The chance that their conversation might be overheard was very high, so the young Apothecary was trying to hint to his fellow Primaris Brothers to choose their words carefully without saying or signing such outright, and potentially get more scrutiny placed on them. Cedric had already been dodging the questions about why and how so many of the primaris Black Templars were arriving on Ancient Terra with the same kinds of injuries and state of near-death.

“Ugh. Of course he is here. Is he as much of a heavy-handed bastard here as he is at home?” Olivar asked with the tact the God-Emperor gave a buzzfly. 

Cedric silently whispered a prayer of protection, grace and patience before answering with as much neutrality as he could conjure in his voice “Olivar… Your bluntness gets you into trouble… Please take care with how you speak.”

Pallisu whacked Olivar on the back of the head lightly at the same time “Olivar! You can’t say that out loud about a chaplain! You’re going to get all of us doing penitent punishment for weeks, if not longer.”

“I want my question answered!” Olivar pouted, glaring up at both of them “And you both know I”m right about him.”

“... I haven’t had the opportunity to interact with him directly yet. I haven’t been on Ancient Terra for very long, and he rarely visits this base.” Cedric hedged before changing the subject “However there are a couple of firstborn Brothers who live here in town. I like and respect them both quite a bit.”

“... Like you respect Apothecary Xonfreid… Or like us and Ramel?” Pallisu asked, covering his mouth with one hand as he asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper. Uncertain hope flickered across his face.

“Hrmph. Just who are these Older Brothers? Why do they stay in one place?” Olivar huffed, not wanting to get his hopes up.

“Battle Brother Roland Lichtner is bonded to Miss Becky, who is very nice. She makes baked goods for a living. Do you remember the brot that I shared with you two last week?” Cedric began, suppressing a mischievous grin with difficulty. 

“That was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten. Of course I remember the bread.” Olivar answered, wistful “I want more…”

“Yeah, the taste! The texture! It was almost overwhelming in a good way. You called it sourdough?” Pallius answered, grinning.

“Miss Becky made that loaf of sourdough herself.” Cedric revealed. “As for the other Older Brother… He is bonded to Miss Angela. She’s a quiltmaker and I think a seamstress as well? Do you remember that weighted quilt that I brought over for us to huddle together under during the thunderstorm yesterday?”

“Yeah.” Pallius answered quietly.

Olivar nodded silently, shuddering a little at the memory of the horrible sounds that the thunder had made. “Wait… The renowned sniper, Roland Lichtner?”

Pallius’ eyes widened. He had been undergoing training in M42 as a Sniper -while Glorious Melee was best, he had a steady aim and a good eye - and besides. The Cowardly Xenos and bastard Heretics used long-range, and so a certain number of Brothers were chosen to learn to use similar but sanctified weapons in order to pick them off before they downed their melee brothers. “He… He lives here?” He saw the other as an exemplar of what it was to be a Black Templar Sniper. 

“He does! In the town, not specifically on base.” Cedric explained, a grin on his face, watching Pallius’ eyes light up with awe and delight.

“You mentioned a second Firstborn Brother? And his… Bonded? What do you mean by bonded?” Olivar asked curiously.

Cedric quickly explains what he understands of Bonding, before revealing “Miss Angela is bonded to Brother Arnault Wach. She’s the one who made that lovely quilt.”

“As… As in Emperor’s Champion Arnault Wach?” Olivar asked, his voice a startled squeak.

Cedric nodded, still grinning “Do you want to meet them? I’ve been given permission to take the two of you off base and to meet brothers Roland und Arnault and their bonded?”

“... Today? Now-ish?” Olivar asked, voice still shaky, eyes wide.

Cedric nodded “We’d have to walk over to where they are, but ja. I was thinking we’d go to the Bakery first, talk to bruder Roland und his Bonded, get something to eat - don’t worry, I have enough local currency for the three of us and then head over to Bruder Arnault’s und his Bonded’s home.” He looked them both other “Unless you’re not feeling up to it? They want to meet you. Oh! We’re not supposed to tell Brother Arnault he’s an Emperor’s Champion, as he was pulled from a time before he became one.”

“Oh… That makes sense.” Pallius hummed, nodding a little. “I’d like to shower first, and change into the nicer set of civilian clothes that were given to me, but otherwise I’m ready to meet them.”

Olivar nodded “I would like a bit of time to prepare, but I am ready to face - er. Meet them today as well.”

Cedric nodded, smiling a little. He’d asked Ramiel if he wanted to come on this trip too, but the young Judicar was busy with training today. “Alright. Meet you at the front desk in an hour?”

The other two Primaris Black Templars agreed, before heading off to their assigned rooms to get clean and changed.

~

It was a pleasantly sunny day, and Cedric was unsurprised to find that the bakery had a line of eager and hungry mortals waiting to purchase their baked goods that stretched out of the door. He gestured for Pallius and Olivar to join him at the back of the line, humming a little to himself.

Thankfully, despite the length of the line, it moved swiftly, and soon the three Primaris Marines found themselves within the charmingly decorated and mouth-wateringly delicious smelling shop. Many of the baked goods had been sold out, but what was remaining still looked and smelled amazing.

The mortal behind the payment counter spotted the three of them and briefly headed into the back of the shop, followed back into the main room by Roland, who smiled a little as he spotted Cedric, his gaze looking over the other two Pimaris Marines curiously. He walked over to the three of them and murmured “Hallo Cedric Are these two Olivar und Pallius?”

Cedric nodded, beaming as he gently laid a hand on the slightly shaking Pallius’ shoulder “Ja! This is Pallius.” he paused for a moment before nudging Olivar “Und this is Olivar.”

Neither one of his fellow Primaris Brothers spoke for several seconds, their eyes wide, their breathing fast and shallow. Cedric silently nudged both of them and Pallius spoke up first “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. Cedric had us try some of the sourdough that is made and sold here. It’s very good.”

Roland’s eyes lit up “A fellow bread lover! Ja, mein beloved’s broten has no equal in this or any other world! Come, follow me, the three of you. She has been just as curious about the two of you as I have been. She is busily working away, kneading.”

“Yessir.” Olivar and Pallius answered at the same time, dutifully following after the Older Brother. 

Cedric grinned as he followed them as well, calling out as soon as they were close “Hallo miss Becky!”

The short human woman set down the bag of flour that she’d been carrying and rushed over, hugging him as best as she could manage “Hello, Cedric! Are these your newly arrived brothers?”

Cedric nodded, beaming “Ja! This is Pallius und this is Olivar.” He explained, gesturing to his brothers in turn, gently hugging her back. 

She let him go and went up on her tiptoes, peering up at the two newcomers “You two certainly do look like Cedric’s brothers. Come closer, please. I promise not to bite.”

“Careful, my love. They are both injured from whatever they’d been up to before they arrived here on Terra. I believe that Pallius has fractured ribs, und the reason why Olivar is holding his left arm like that is because of broken bones as well.” Roland hummed, staring directly at Cedric as he said that.

Cedric could hear the silent question in the older Black Templar’s voice, but he needed to talk privately with his fellow Primaris marines before they decided what it was they were going to tell the others here. “They are well enough to take short trips out of the base, though.”

Olivar was the first to move closer to the mortal woman, both guarded and curious “Hallo miss Becky. Your sourdough is very tasty. What are those pale lumps of matter you were squishing when we came in?”

She gave him a quick side hug before taking a half-step back “That’s called a dough… Olivar, is it?” Miss Becky gives a quick explanation as to what dough is, and the process of turning dough into bread, a slight blush appearing on her face as she finished with a quiet “Ah… My apologies. You probably didn’t want that much information about such things…”

Pallius looked genuinely fascinated, and Olivar had drifted over to one of the lumps of dough, a focused expression on his face.

“Please don’t say that! I was finding your lecture to be both interesting and quite informative! We weren’t taught how to make food like this - basic foraging, yes. But nothing so technical.” Pallius answered, blue-brown eyes shining with fascination. 

“So you just.. Squish the bread? Und it makes it stronger and tastier?” Olivar clarified, looking very much like he was seconds away from poking one of the lumps of dough sitting out on the counter with a finger.

“If you want to help knead the dough, you must first wash your hands und ask.” Roland drawled, walking over and lightly nudging Olivar over to the sink “Would you mind if the ducklings helped us for a little while?”

“Not in the least! Their help would be quite timely, given the massive line of people we have out of the door, and the dough that requires kneading.” Miss Becky answers with a sigh “If you three are willing to help, of course. If you don’t want to, I won’t insist.”

“But we want to help.” Cedric, Pallius and Olivar answered at the same time, turning to peer hopefully down at the mortal baker. 

Cedric paused for a moment before saying “I can show them how to use not too much of their strength, and cause the dough to tear - und how to mold it into two pieces, if it does accidentally tear.”

Miss Becky beamed and nodded “Thanks, Cedric! You’re a lifesaver. Now I’ve got to get these croissants in the oven.” One of the timers went off, startling Olivar and Pallius with the loudness.

Roland went over to the oven and pulled out several very hot loaves of bread, setting them carefully on the cooling rack “I will help with that, mein schatz.” 

Cedric gestured for Pallius and Olviar to join him at the sink, showing them how to properly wash their hands in order to get ready for kneading the dough. He showed them the proper technique, letting them get a feel for the strength required for the repetitive task, and what they were looking for, for when the bread was ready to be baked.

Both Olivar and Pallius listened and watched carefully, doing their best to mimic what he was doing.

Miss Becky had been kind enough to give them a loaf of freshly cooled banana bread for the three of them to share, after the couple of hours they had spent kneading loaf after loaf of bread into being ready to be cooked, cooled and sold. 

Cedric had texted Arnault as the three of them were leaving the bakery on the communication device he’d been given [We are on our way. Do I need to to give you some more time?]

Cedric was well aware of the fact that Arnault loved his bonded very much, and enjoyed flirting with and touching her whenever he could get away with it. Sometimes that would escalate and Arnault would steal away his bonded to kiss and do… Things with her that the young Apothecary had only heard of in theory and did not want to think about in depth in conjunction with his honored elder brother, thank you very much. Also Arnault had asked him to text before hand for those kinds of reasons.

[Mein Engel and I are ready for guests. She is finishing up a project for a client, und I am helping her by holding up the last part of what needs sewing together. The front door is unlocked, just knock before coming in.] Arnault answered promptly.

Cedric nodded to himself on instinct as he sent back [Understood. We should be there in twenty minutes or so.]

~

Cedric led Olivar and Pallius to Arnault’s and Angela’s home, pausing at the front door, realizing that both of them were standing and staring at the house from the sidewalk. He sighed silently and walked back over to his brothers, voice gentle and coaxing “We’re nearly there. He’s a wonderful big brother, I promise.”

“He… He’s an Emperor’s Champion… Well, will be, from his standpoint. Are… Are we worthy to be in his presence?” Pallius asked, uncertainty causing his voice to shake a little.

Olivar shuffled alongside Pallius, unwilling to voice his own concerns, but nodding along to what Pallius said.

Cedric took in a deep breath and gently held one of Olivar’s and Pallius’ hands, squeezing gently, and answered “We are worthy. Each of us is as valuable as a firstborn brother of our rank and standing. He’s looking forward to meeting you, as is his bonded. I wouldn’t ask you to meet someone who I don’t trust while you’re still healing.”

“... Okay. Let’s do this, then.” Olivar answered, a determined expression appearing on his face as he took in a deep breath and did his best to center himself.

Pallius nodded, taking a couple of moments to center himself as well before saying “Okay… I’m ready. Let’s… Let’s go meet them, then.”

Cedric nodded, smiling encouragingly at his brothers as he led them over to the front door, knocking and then entering as he’d been asked. He informed the other two “It’s considered rude to walk around in their home walking in the shoes that we were walking around outside in. Outside shoes go in this bin over here, and there are guest slippers here, unless you want to walk around barefoot, or in your socks, both of which are acceptable as well.” he took off his own shoes and put them away properly, content to meander about the house in his socks.

Pallius and Olivar obediently took off their shoes and placed them in the correct bin. Neither elected to take a pair of the astartes-sized guest slippers and Olivar also took off his socks, pairing them and placing them in his shoes, so that they wouldn’t get lost. 

Cedric called out “We’re here!” loud enough so that his voice would carry throughout the house, while also not being too loud so as to accidentally cause alarm.

“Come on in!” Miss Angela called out, closer than he’d anticipated her voice to sound “Arnault and I are in the living room, finishing up a project. Please don’t step on the fabric, when you come into the room.”

“Yes ma’am.” Cedric responded, smiling a little as he carefully led his brothers into the living room, carefully picking his way over to where she was sitting and sewing - Arnault carefully holding onto the fabric she was stitching together in order to help keep it steady. “This is Pallius - he’s the one with the slightly darker eyes and hair - and this is Olivar. He’s shorter and -”

“I am less than five inches shorter than the both of you!” Olivar sulked, sending a grumpy pout Cedric’s way “I am well within standard parameters. The fact that I am more compact only means that I can move in more cramped areas better than you two.”

“- grumpy.” Cedric finished with a teasing grin on his face.

“I’d offer you boys some tea, but I’m a little busy at the moment, and so is Arni.” Angela responded, looking up from her work and looking at the three of them. “Goodness! Look how lovely you all are. And there’s no shame in being shorter than others, Olivar. Don’t let the talls bully you! You’re wonderful just the way you are.”

Olivar - who had started to wind up at Cedric’s gentle teasing - deflated a little, blinking in utter shock and mild surprise, struck silent by her words.

Pallius blinked twice and took a half-step forward to cover his Brother’s shock “I’m sure Vie will thank you for your words once he finds his tongue again. None of us have much experience interacting with baselines, and Olivar is not great at making first impressions.”

“Hey! I am… Adequate at socialization!” Olivar pouted, content to be half-hidden behind his larger brothers. He was trying not to be overwhelmed and mostly succeeding. 

“Ja, of course you are, Vie.” Cedric hummed, gently patting his grumpy brother a little, trying to suppress the grin that threatened to appear on his face. “I could start the electric kettle, if you wanted?” He offered.

“That would be lovely, thank you Cedric. It’s in it’s usual spot in the kitchen.” Miss Angela answered with a smile. She then looked to Olivar and Pallius “Please, come sit down, there are a couple of chairs not buried under fabric you can use.”

“Yes ma’am.” Pallius murmured, carefully moving so as to not disturb the fabric in the room.

Olivar fidgeted a little. One of his legs was still on the mend and he had a slim cast that fit under the clothes he was wearing. He wasn’t sure if he had the dexterity to make it across the room without stumbling over the fabric and didn’t want to get into trouble, so he stayed at the entrance of the room. He did lean against the door frame on his good leg. “If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’ll stay here.”

“If you’re sure… There are a couple of chairs free…” Miss Angela pointed out.

“I don’t mind standing, ma’am.” Olivar answered, which was a partial truth.

Arnault hummed a little “There is a sturdy enough folding chair in the closet in the hallway you walked through. Sit, lad. I can smell the pain you’re in from your broken leg.”

Angela gasped a little, a worried frown on her face “You walked all the way here on a broken leg without crutches? Honey, do we have any astartes-grade painkiller? You must be so sore, you poor dear. Hang on, let me move some of this fabric out of the way, so you can sit properly.”

“I… Uhm. I’ll be fine, ma’am. I don’t want to interrupt your work.” Olivar deflected awkwardly.

“Nonsense! It’s easier if the quilt is all laid out like this, but it isn’t strictly necessary. Arni, love, help me move things?” Angela tutted, shaking her head a little.

Arnault nodded, knowing how and where to move the fabric to, before giving Olivar a quick once over and a quiet order “Come here and sit down, Olivar.” He made sure that his voice was gentle, but firm, to brook no argument from foolish apprentices. 

“Yes sir.” Olivar responds, obediently reacting to the tone of command, doing his best to move as carefully as he could manage, sitting down on the far edge of the couch. Some of the pain leaving him, as he was able to get his weight off of his injured leg. “What is it that you are making?” Olivar asked, curiously as he looked at the fabric around him. It looked to be deliberately and expertly stitched together, some of it dyed different colors in a lovely pattern.

Miss Angela grinned as she briefly looked to Arnault before answering “I am making a weighted quilt. I recently finished making one, and this one should be finished by the end of the month. What do you two think of this one?”

Pallius answered first and earnestly “I think your client is very lucky to receive this uilt. I can tell this is expertly made, and the quality is so much better than the thin blankets we were allotted aboard The Sigismund.”

Olivar nodded in agreement “I can’t imagine the time and effect that you put into making this. It is a beautiful piece of art, ma’am.”

Miss Angela seemed to lose the ability to speak for several seconds, blinking rapidly before setting down the needle and finely spun thread and reached out to gently cup one of Olivar’s cheeks “That is such a sweet thing to say, both of you, thank you.”

“Yeah… Cedric’s so lucky to have one of these…” Pallius sighed “It was so comfortable to snuggle together, during the thunderstorm yesterday. Olivar and I were still pretty out of it and…”

“The thunder reminded us of artillery fire in the worst ways. Bad memories and heavy pain killers are an awful combination.” Olivar grumbled, pouting a little though he leaned into her gentle touch, trying to blink back treacherous tears that threatened to fall. He’d never been touched this gently by someone who wasn’t a Brother or a Cousin before and he had no idea how to react. He had no idea how much a quilt like the one Cedric had cost, but he planned on getting money and the supplies necessary to create such a thing and ask Miss Angela to make one for him. Cedric would probably know what to get and how much it cost. Ramiel too, as both of them had those wonderful quilts. He planned on asking for one for Pallius first, as a surprise gift for his only surviving squadmate. 

Cedric came back into the room with one mortal sized mug and four astartes sized mugs in his hands, along with several bright orange fruits that smelled sweet. “I’ve got drinks and a snack for everyone.” He passed both the fruits and the mugs around,c careful to avoid stepping on the fabric. 

Pallius curiously inspected the orange fruit that he’d been given. It had bright, smooth skin and smelled faintly sweet and floral. He didn’t recognize it at all “What is this?” He asked curiously as he brought the fruit up to his lips and carefully took a small bite.

“These are persimmons. They should taste sweet and have a slight drying effect on the tongue.” Arnault explained, an amused smirk appearing on the older Black Templar’s face as he took a bite of the fruit.

Olivar was put off by the slightly grainy texture of the flesh of the fruit, and the flavor was odd to him as well. But everyone else seemed to be enjoying their fruit and he wasn’t one to turn down food when it was offered to him freely, so he quickly ate the rest of the persimmon, washing down the taste and texture with the tannic-tasting tea. It was amazing to learn just how much variety of foods there was on ancient and holy Terra… And overwhelming to the young Astartes, who was used to the carefully created and bland tasting nutrient pastes, ration bars and similar such food-stuffs that were made to sustain the Adeptus Astartes. 

“Is the persimmon not to your liking, Olivar?” Miss angela asked, sounding concerned.

Olivar blanked in surprise. He’d tried to keep his mild distaste for the strange fruit from being obvious. “It’s… Very different from what I’m used to, ma’am. But I did finish it.” Olivar answered, resisting the temptation to fidget with the mug in his hands. 

“Persimmons can be an acquired taste. I was given these by a neighbor who has a persimmon tree that is fruiting heavily this year. I’ve also seen the start of the Zucchini Shenanigans season earlier this week.” Angela hummed, smiling a little.

“I will be on guard, to ensure that we are not ambushed by too many squash. THey are tasty, but too many at once to eat before they spoil is… Vexing.” Arnault rumbled shaking his head a little.

Pallius silently wondered what the two of them were referring to. He looked to Olivar silently, who shrugged, equally confused before they both silently looked to Cedric, in hopes that he would offer them some kind of explanation.

“Free, fresh vegetables are always welcome at the base, should you be gifted with more zucchini than you can eat before it goes bad.” The young apothecary offered “Also miss Becky recently taught me how to make zucchini bread, which I find to be quite tasty, though on the sweet side.”

“Was that the soft brown bread with the spices you fed us earlier this week?” Olivar asked curiously, eyes widening in recognition. “You made like… Ten loaves of the stuff and we had to hide them from nosy firstborn brothers while they cooled, so that they could be used in trade.”

“Those were indeed Zucchini bread.” Cedric confirmed with a small grin.

“What did you end up trading that Zucchini bread for, anyways?” Pallius asked curiously, head tilting a little at his apothecary Brother “You mentioned that you’d made them specifically to be used in trade, which is why we hid them from hungry Older Brothers.”

Cedric’s eyes shone brightly with a playful kind of mischief “Something that I wanted and knew I could get with the proper application of sweet tasting breads.”

“I suppose that’s Cedric for “I’m not gonna tell you” then?” Olivar grumbled, pouting a little “Is there a particular reason you won’t tell us? Or are you practicing Secret Keeping?”

Cedric chuckled, his eyes still shining brightly with playful mischief “I’m not telling~! If you need to find out, you will in time.”

“Fine.” Pallius sighed, pouting a little that Cedric wouldn’t tell them but not willing to try and push the issue… At least not in front of the firstborn and his bonded. 

“... Why would you need to practice keeping secrets?” Miss Angela asked curiously, as she had finished eating her persimmon and had gone back to stitching the quilt together.

All three young Astartes looked at one another uncertainly before looking to Brother Arnault. They weren’t quite sure what parts of astartes training they were allowed to speak of, and what was to be kept silent on. 

Arnault chuckled “Basic astartes training leaves many young ones to be quite blunt und direct with their words and methods of speaking. Some missions require a degree of… Hrm. Subtlety and discretion, so we have the young ones practice how to Keep Secrets with low-stakes items and information that they are told to hide for a certain length of time, so that they know how to do so when it matters.”

“Ah, I see. I suppose that makes sense…” Angela hummed, nodding a little. “How long have you two been on Earth?”

“... I’m not sure, ma’am. But not longer than a month or two at most? I was brought to the base pretty badly injured because of… Uhm. Reasons, and I’ve been in recovery after they stitched my wounds closed, ma’am.” Pallius answered, shifting a little “This is the first time I’ve left the base since arriving, actually.”

Olivar nodded “I think I've been here for about three weeks at most? Maybe a month, by the way you figure the days and nights.” It was by unspoken agreement that they were not going to explain precisely how and why they had acquire their grievous wounds - the firstborns had assumed that they’d been nearly killed by Chaos Astartes from the kinds of weapons their wounds had been inflicted by… Which while untrue, was close enough to the truth to be functional. “From what little I have seen of Ter-err Earth, it’s a beautiful world.”

“It can be a beautiful place to live… Though I can’t help but wonder what it’s like to wander the stars, as Arni has occasionally told me he’s done. What’s it like to explore other worlds?” Angela asked, a soft sigh leaving her.

The three Primaris marines glanced at each other before looking to Arnault, unsure how to answer her question, each shifting uncomfortably. While it was possible that some of the many worlds that they had visited during their tenure as Astartes had once been beautiful, most of that beauty had been blasted and perverted into misery and suffering by the enemy they had been sent to fight. 

“We’re not supposed to talk about what we did before we came to Earth, my love.” Arnault reminded her, voice gentle as he gave his Angela a kiss on the lips that caused all three of his baby brothers to fluster and turn away, to give them a bit of privacy, their ears burning bright red. 

Angela kissed him back, a soft hum in her voice “Very well then, I won’t ask more about it. I wouldn’t want to get any of you into trouble for prying into your mysterious pasts.” 

Cedric’s phone chimed, as a reminder went off. He looked at the notification and sighed “Vie, Palli, we need to get going back to base soon, or they’ll start sending out search parties for us and we’ll be grounded for wandering around too long without a check-in.”

Olivar grumbled “Can’t we check in via vox?”

Cedric shook his head “No, we need to check-in in-person, because you and Pallius are injured.”

Pallius sighed and nodded “Very well then. I suppose it makes sense…” He got up and saluted Arnault and Miss Angela on instinct “Thank you for your time, tea and the fruit.” He started to carefully make his way across the floor. 

Olivar also got up and saluted the two of them, hiding the pained wince as his weight was partially on his broken leg once again “Thank you sir, ma’am.” and hobbled out of the room as gracefully as he could manage.

“Alright, you boys stay safe, alright?” Miss Angela answered with a small smile and a nod, leaning a little into Brother Arnault as she spoke.

“Heal well, und try not to get into too much mischief. At least not without me or Roland present.” The Emperor’s Champion hummed, a small smile on his face as he held his Bonded lovingly. 

“Yes sir! We’ll try to stay out of trouble, sir!” Cedric chirped for his brothers, stepping so that he was helping Olivar and Pallius move without it being abundantly obvious. 

Arnault snorted a little “Uh-huh. No fist fighting Chaos Cowards out of armor, Cedric.” 

Cedric pouted a little as Olivar and Pallius looked at him curiously “That was one time, big bruder!”

“Ah-huh.” Arnault answered, still smirking a little as the three apprentices made their way out of his and his beloved’s home.

Cedric helped Pallius and Olivar get back to base, making sure to insist that they sit on  benches that were occasionally near the sidewalk, so that they could give their still-healing bodies a break. He also dutifully recounted his encounter with the Slaaneshi Bastard and his reasoning behind tackling the fucker and duct-taping empty glass jars to his poison-dripping fingertips.

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! YES YES YES YES YES YES YEEEEEEEEEES!

I'm having to hold all my victory Shrieking innn!

Love the subtle changes about how, despite being off topic, some of the Primaris Really Do like the idea of Petras being tortured.

Secondly. Love Khopesh being his usual self. Always a blast!

And I'm so...So looking forward to what happens next.

The Light of Truth

Author's note: More of the Primaris Boys in Husbandry. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Pallius, Cedric & Olivar. Thank you to @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for letting me borrow Khopesh. Thank you to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Ghosk.

Warning: Character death. Characters fighting. Bloodshed. Uh. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Cedric gets a message. A brother is nearly rescued, another is nearly lost. Petras reveals his true colors to more than just Primaris Marines.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Cedric's wrist mounted vox gets a communication ping.

[I am uncertain how much time I have left before I return to the embrace of the Omnissiah.] Castiel sends in his message through agonizing, and coughs blood from his lungs raggedly. There are some spots of blood, mucus and the mechanical fluids used to keep him alive that spatter on his vox. Ugh, despite how much the Mechanicum has enhanced him, he’s still so wretchedly fleshed.

After a few wet ragged coughs Castiel painfully continues, his voice more staticy [but I don't want to die without letting someone know the truth. Embedded in this message is a holo recording of a meeting between Chaplain Mephestil Petras of the Black Templars and a Chaos Marine… as well as his reactions to my queries on the subject. He murdered me. I hope this gets to you. The God Emperor Protects and provides for us all.]

Castiel had also sent the holo recording of Petras going too far in his punishment. When Petras finds and attacks him on Ancient Terra he's able to record some of it, as well as his agonizing cries as he tries to escape, but dies to Petras again. Castiel had managed to have his eyes- which were cybernetic to record Petras’s words and actions- and the recording cuts off after he finishes dying.

He had the message on a delayed sending, hoping that Petras wouldn't notice the vox message. Tied to send when twelve minutes after he flatlined, and he sent coordinates of where he lay dead, or so he hoped. Castiel had wanted to send it to one of his fellow Black Templars primaris Marines.

His last thoughts are Prayers to the Omnissiah that his message will get through to one of them. That Castiel’s death won’t be a waste, that at least someone will have this proof. 

Castiel knew in his hearts that it likely wouldn’t do anything much. Petras has killed Primaris Marines before with only a slap on the wrist. But at least it is something and the First borns will be interested in consorting with Chaos. Even though his life is worthless to them.

~

Cedric reads the written message, his mouth going dry, as a slow-burning fury ignites his hearts once again. He mutes the video, before playing it, as he is currently sitting down in the clinic’s staff cafeteria, and he has little doubt that the sounds of pain and misery will immediately attract the attention of everyone who could hear it.

Two. That’s two, in less than twenty-four hours. While Mattias wasn’t dead, he had been placed in a medically induced coma, to reduce the amount of movement that the young Astartes was capable of doing, as the injury to his spinal column could be operated on and treated, but was very delicate and any movements could potentially permanently render his legs unusable without spinal prosthetics or other augments that would be incredibly difficult to acquire on Ancient and Holy Terra. 

He knows that Anrir and the other Night Lords are incredibly dangerous. Its just for some reason they have decided to drag him protectively under their bat wings, rather than tear him to shreds with their talons. For now at least.

Claude and Khopesh are away from where Ghosk and the others are setting the stage for the ‘fight’ between ‘raven guard’ Anrir (or whatever name he’ll be using) and the Claw will ‘attack’ him.

Claude and Khopesh watch through binoculars as the staged fight happens- and Captain Kasz Kalleran takes the bait and falls for the trap, hook, line and sinker. His Captain did enjoy it when he could be painted as the hero of the stories he tells, regardless of the truth of the matter.

The Claw gets ‘chased off’ by the flock of Ravens who surround the wounded ‘bird’ and help patch him up. Claude closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. Anrir is far older than he is, and knows what he’s doing. Had chosen to do this- had planned for contingencies and decided on this course of action.

Claude is distracted by a vox text message he gets from Cedric and reads it with a concerned frown on his face.  [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

He sent a message to Claude via vox. [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

[On my way.] Claude responds. [Where do you want to meet?]

Claude frowns, concern churning in his gut as he sends a message to Ramiel about Cedric’s request. Ramiel responds immediately to his message and sends one to Cedric as well.

“I have to go- Cedric needs my help with something,” Claude informs Khopesh.

“Have fun with that,” Khopesh says, “I’ll check on the others, see how they are doing after the ‘fight’ with the Raven Guards.”

Claude nods, “sounds good.”

[The park nearest to The Clinic. We should be able to talk freely there.] Cedric texted both Ramiel and Claude. 

While he waited for them to respond, he walked over to where Olivar was currently sitting, scowling into the bowl of food in front of him. “You know it’s not going to leap out at you and try to murder you. What’s on your mind?”

“You told me that He is on Ancient Terra, too, right? Why the fuck were we sent here, back into his reach? Unless He is from before He started…” Olivar swallowed hard, a low, wordless growl leaving him. “Should we be keeping what The Bastard has done to us a secret? Your mentor did not tolerate his grox-shite, at least when it came to you, no matter what The Shithead said you did, or didn’t do. Surely there’s got to be at least one Firstborn marine you can talk to about all of this shit.”

“... There are a couple I’ve told some of what’s happened to. In M42. They kind of bullied me into telling them, but given what they’re like, I really should have realized that they were going to do so, sooner or later. Do you remember what I told you about Bruders Roland and Arnault?” Cedric asked, rocking back on his heels a little. 

“... Yeah… One’s a battle brother,” Olivar says, “The other’s an Emperor’s Champion… something about Bonding? Bonded?”

“... Trust me, the Bonding and Bonded conversation is for when you are better healed and we aren’t doing emergency scrambling. But I think… If you, Ramiel  and Pallius agree… I think I might ask both of them to help me lodge a formal complaint against Petras, to get some kind of official record as to the grox-shite and cruelty he is capable of being known publicly.”

“That sounds vaguely ominous Ced,” Olivar says, his scowl shifting a little. He scoffs a little, “didn’t we try that before and were told ‘stop being whiny little bitch and take the ‘character building’ lumps and suck it up?’ Why would that change since we’re here?”

“Bonds are wonderful things, I promise! From what I’ve seen, they are good. Also, that was by other firstborn brothers in M42. I told them that Petras killed a dozen primaris marines in M42 and that both of them immediately swore to kill him. I entirely believe that they meant that, too.”

“I mean… you are lovable Ced,” Olivar says slightly teasingly, “And Apothecaries are hard to come by. Of course they want to protect you.”

Cedric huffed a little and shook his head “I don’t think it’s just because I’m an Apothecary. They were furious at the thought of younger brothers being killed for existing. Not that I’m advocating for Chaplain Petras to die, just to… To be brought before a tribunal and made to answer for his crimes.” 

By the god-emperor, does the wounded fury and sorrow howling in his hearts want Petras dead. Not just dead, but killed slowly, painfully. To have the fucker be made to beg and plead for mercy, for an ounce of compassion and be shown exactly as much as he gave Cedric’s Brothers. 

None. 

But that path led towards falling to Khorne, or perhaps Slaanesh, depending on the way he went about it. So formal sanctioning it was. For his own safety, and the safety of others.

“I wonder how Justice and punishment are delivered on Ancient Terra? I think that’s something we should find out, before we do anything or say anything.” Olivar scratches his cheek, “hm… let me think on it. Unless the Bastard does something… Bad here.”

“He’s killed a Primaris Tech marine. I just received Castiel’s dying vox-messages and video-footage of his murder.” Cedric answered, shaking his head a little. “Mattias - another Primaris Marine, is currently under anesthesia and in surgery because of the complications from Petras beating the fuck out of him yesterday.”

“Fucking bastard, you have convinced me, I’ll talk to who ever it is about his discipline and punishment methods.” Olivar hisses, “I remember Cassie- quiet, dutiful and always helped with weapons and armor maintenance. He was so happy to be chosen as a Tech Marine. He loved to talk about a certain kind of cog wheel.”

Cedric nodded, saying “I’m going to check in with Pallius first, then Ramiel. To see how they both feel about going forwards with what we know of petras’ crimes. I will be taking point on this. As the Apothecary of the group… And the one who survived longest in M42 before being sent to Ancient Terra, this is my duty and my burden.” With that he nodded, standing up and heading over to where Pallius was sitting and eating lunch.

~

“Pallius, I’ve run this by Olivar, and I have his vote. I won’t reveal it to you as I don’t want to influence your decision either way. But I… I am asking if you want me to come forward to certain firstborn marines - Brothers Roland and Arnault of the Black Templars, and Captain Ash’val for certain about what Chaplain Petras has done to us. He’s killed at least one Primaris Marine on Ancient Terra. He’s badly wounded Mattias, who is currently in surgery.” Cedric explained, his voice low and quick he gave the other a brief summary of what Castiel had sent to him.

“... If our words and scars can help keep others safe,” Pallius says quietly, “then… then I shall speak of the shameful things.”

“It’s not your shame, what he had done to you, Pallius. It is his. Please, you must remember this.” Cedric urged his brother, his hearts caught in the back of his throat. 

Pallius ducks his head a little at the others words as his eyes become wet and he rubs the grit from his eyes. “I… I’ll try to.”

“Thank you, Pallius. You have Dorn’s own courage.” Cedric murmured, gently pressing his forehead to Pallius’, as an affectionate gesture.

“Keep safe Ced,” Pallius says, closing his eyes and leaning into  Cedric a little, returning the gesture as much as he can. “... You have Dorn’s own courage as well Brother.”

Cedric nodded, walking out of the cafeteria as he read up on what had been sent to his wrist-mounted vox, mind whirling. 

[I got the message from Claude. I’ll be at the park in seven minutes. Do I need to get Catius or Oleandros? Or have them run a Distraction?] Ramiel sends Cedric a text vox message, adding another statement. [Eta five minutes, told Chaplain Bo’shan I was taking my lunch break. He seemed happy about that.]

[I will be there in five minutes.] Claude says a thought occurs to him and he asks [Do you want me to get Jophi?]

[... I  don’t want to involve all of the others just as of yet. Any more of this, and I request that we please speak in person. Neither of you are in trouble.] Cedric vox-texted back, making sure to send the last sentence, so as to not worry them too much. He hoped.

[Wilco.] Ramiel replies. He is worried- just what is going on? He wonders what Cedric has found out or wants to discuss. 

He had to go by Reclusiarch Feldarim’s office to get to where he was going- the other watched him go with a casual glance. But as he didn’t seem too upset, the other let him pass without harassing him. Which gives him a sense of relief, as Chaplain Bo’shan had lightly pressed him for details, and he’d said that he was meeting up with Cedric and Claude for lunch.

He’s able to excuse himself and grabs something to eat. And then ensures to grab enough for Claude and Cedric. Both of them are terrible at remembering to eat. He also grabs some of the homemade ice cream as a sweet treat, just in case the conversation needs such a thing.

Claude replies [Understood- I also have some… interesting information on Justice and Punishment that The Night Lords talked about for Ancient Terra and the Alliance.]

[Good, I have questions about that, which will help in deciding in which way things will go. Whether we go the official route, or take care of trash on our own.] Cedric texted back.

~

He must have one hell of a scowl on his face, because the baseline humans who he passes by all scramble to get the hell out of his way. While normally this would make him feel guilty, especially as the baselines who live on the base are either bonded to one of the marines who lives on base… Or they have nowhere else to live and they work jobs on base in order to pay in kind for housing and food. 

Zariel had heard the whispers and more loud complaints and worried about Fierce Angry Scowling Astarte in black and white scrubs. So he had sent a message to Ash’val, Feldarim, and after a moment’s hesitation, to Hura. Just in case.

“Cedric,” Zariel calls out carefully, “... You know I am here for you, if you need or want to talk about something that’s bothering you. If you want to talk.”

“... I acknowledge this. However, I need to speak with a couple of others. We will decide a few things and then figure out who to reach out to. You are, I will say, on the short list for the… Issue that needs handling.” Cedric responded, falling back on formal wording in order to hopefully get the teal Ultramarine to back off a little. He didn’t have the time to try and shake off a Teal tail. 

“Very well,” Zariel says with a nod, watching the younger Astarte move. “I am honored to have such trust.”

He decides that it would be best not to press him too much. After all- he didn’t want to rile the other and send him into hiding again. The fact that young Claude had managed to teach a Black Templar how to be stealthy and good at it had been… more than a little distressing… As impressed as he’d been after his hearts had stopped feeling like they were going to burst from stress.

Cedric nods brusquely before marching the rest of the way out of the base, still scowling and not in the least bit attempting to hide his expression in the least. 

Zariel also rolls a thought or two in his head. Whatever it was that Cedric had told Roland and Arnault had made the two older Black Templars exceedingly angry.  So he was going to wait before sending a message to the older ones about this… Newest thing.

~

Cedric spotted Ramiel and Claude in one of their favorite spots in the nearby park. The brief stretch of his legs, and outside did help him calm down slightly, though his nerves - and his fury - were still jangling just beneath the surface of his skin. He waved over at the two of them, attempting to smile “Hey… Claude, Ramiel.”

Claude had helped Ramiel set up the basket of food, a blend of baseline human and Astarte food and drinks. They had set it up on one of the wooden benches that was rated for Astartes to sit on safely with the table neatly set out, with a picnic cover neatly tucked around to keep things a bit cleaner.

“Hey Cedric,” Ramiel says, “I thought since it was about lunch time, and you had a Conversation to speak with us, a picnic would help the Look of things. Regardless of what is spoken about.”

“Nice to see you Ced,” Claude says with a grin.

Claude heads to the area specified by Cedric and helps Ramiel set up the picnic that the other had decided to grab. It was a good cover- and they’d get to eat something while they talk about the Urgent matter.

At least on the outset it would look like the three of them were enjoying lunch and a picnic, which would have curious eyes not think anything Suspicious is going on. Not that he thinks that Cedric is doing anything particularly troubling. But it helps throw off any potential watchers, just in case.

 Claude wonders if the Claw is encouraging his paranoia and suspicious tendencies before shaking his head a little and greeting Cedric. He sees the thunderous scowl on the other’s face and suspects that whatever he’s going to say is not going to be great.

He’s proven right as he listens, upset at what Cedric has learned. He goes over the details of what he remembers of the conversation with Khopesh about Justice and Punishments. Ramiel and Cedric agree to speak with Khopesh in public and he sends another message and Khopesh arrives swiftly.

“... A picnic does sound good.” Cedric relented, plopping down next to his Brother, leaning into his familiar warmth. He looked at the spread of food and drinks, deliberately focusing on what he could smell and see before him, in a desperate attempt to calm down, at least a little. 

Ramiel hums one of the prayer hymns that he knows helps Cedric calm down, Claude slowly reaching out and holding one of the Apothecary Apprentic’s hands and lightly squeezing it. Claude joins in on the song, humming the chorus and harmonizing with them, the words whispered in High Gothic.

He hummed along to the hymn, allowing the calming focus to come over him. Anger had it’s place on the battlefield, but too much of it was dangerous. Not only to oneself, but to everyone around the one lost to fury. He squeezed Claude’s hand back gently, managing a rueful smile “I have bad news, worse news, questions, and a proposal, contingent upon the answer to those questions. What do you want to hear first?”

“What’s the worst news?” Claude and Ramiel ask at the same time, bracing themselves.

Claude looks around them glancing at his brothers as he takes some of the bread and spreads jame and nut butter on bread- as well as sprinkling some Astarte nutri-paste and cutting it into thirds for the three of them to eat. 

Claude cast his senses, Warp-related and not to ensure that they weren’t being listened to. Glad that no one was, either through technology or warpy senses he lets go of his crackling humming power and focuses on Cedric’s words. He takes a bite of food to keep the spots of darkness out of his vision.

“Tech-Marine Castiel of the Black Templars was killed earlier today, at the hands of Chaplain Captain Petras. When Tech Marine Castiel became aware that he was going to die, as there was no one to intercede on his behalf, he sent me all of the information he had on the chaplain in question, sending it on a delay to hopefully not arouse suspicion from his murderer.” Cedric revealed, doing his best to keep his voice a low, emotionless monotone. He failed spectacularly, as his voice cracked. He paused, taking a sip from one of the glasses of lemonade before continuing “Brother Mattias of the Black Templars is currently in surgery due to the complications from the beating he received, allegedly from Chaplain Petras, according to the Hydra who brought him into the clinic late last night.”  

“God Emperor curse him,” Ramiel swears softly, before flinching as he realizes the words that had come out of his mouth. “He’s… Perhaps not escalating, but he’s continuing to do what he did back in M42.”

“... He knows he died for Challenging the High Marshal,” Claude says with a frown, his eyes flashing teal as he thinks “... For killing and purging Primaris… and he’s…doing it here when Astartes number far fewer. He’s … not likely to change his ways.”

“Ramiel, I have asked Pallius and Olivar, but I will with-hold their votes until you tell me what you want to do. Should we come forward to certain firstborn marines, and tell them about what Petras has done, both in M42, and on Ancient Terra, or would you rather we handle this ourselves?” Cedric asked, his voice shaking a little, but stubborn ferocity beat in his chest. He would deal with this fucker, one way or the other.

Ramiel reaches over- carefully telegraphing his movements as he gives his brother a side hug. Claude is on Cedric’s other side and does the same thing. The three of them gently hugged each other for a moment. Ramiel gathers his thoughts, which is hard because they keep scattering in a thousand-thousand different directions as he thinks over the other’s words. 

“I think,” Ramiel says, his voice cracking a little, he coughs and then takes a sip of the lemonade laced with hydration rations, “I think, we should go to the First borns, see what they do… if it’s … unsatisfactory …. We can… handle him after the fact.”

Cedric side-hugs Ramiel back, trembling a little with the force of the emotions running rampant within him. He focuses on Claude “You mentioned that the Night Lords spoke of how Astartes dealt Justice in this time period? Please explain to the best of your abilities. Your answers will help me decide whether or not I will come forward with the information to whoever I’m supposed to in an official capacity… Or if I just ask Arnault and Roland if he would please help me murder a bastard. They are both already aware of Petras’ crimes in M42 and swore to kill him.” Their vehement and immediate declarations of Murder had been… Cedric swallowed a little. They had been more gratifying than the young Apothecary had wanted to admit.

“So Khopesh and the Claw of Night Lords knows about why certain… First Born Brothers in M42 don’t like us… And they find that reasoning stupid, foolish and wasteful. Claude nods, “That- actually is one method of Justice that the rest of the chapter’s can’t mess with. Justice for crimes done, unless it’s inter-chapter stuff, or there is a request to intercede on the behalf of the victims, is done in-chapter. Unless their crimes are bad enough that an Example needs to be made.”

Claude gathers his thoughts and pulls out the data slate and reads the notes he’d taken, the conversation that he had with Khopesh. He hands the data slate over so they can read about Hunting- and how the worst of the Astarte criminals, like serial killers, are handed over to the Night Lords, which is one of the worst punishments that can happen to a person. How the Hunt is declared- what happens during it, and after.

“There is a precedent,” Claude says, licking his lips a little, “where if an Astarte is killing other Astarte- that their Chapter, at first are the ones to handle them, but if for whatever reason they can’t or won’t… They tend to be handed over to the Night Lords. I… uh… asked some Questions- and Khopesh seemed… excited about the idea of a Hunt. I think… no, I know he reported the conversation we had about Justice and Punishment to the Claw Leader- Anrir, who’s an Apothecary- who’s older than Hura.”

“... Petras wasn’t the only one killing Primaris Marines in M42. Nor was he the only Firstborn Black Templar to be doing so.” Cedric murmured, his voice low and quiet. “As much as I want… As much as I want to raise bolter and blade against the fucker myself, alongside whoever else wants to kill him. I don’t… I don’t think that simply killing Petras will ensure long-term protection of our fellow Primaris Marines. I will ask Arnault and Roland their opinions on this… But…”

“There are other punishments,” Claude says, “They talked about.. Flaying… among other things. Some. Very graphic descriptions that I won’t go into detail about right now, as well as having the people who were hurt by the person, to either participate in the person’s punishment actively, or have a hand in deciding how they are punished. There is, unfortunately, a need to gather evidence and proof of crimes more than verbal witness evidence.”

“Would the recorded audio-visual recordings of a now-murdered marine be enough evidence?” Cedric asked bluntly. 

“... Will you allow me to ask Khopesh that?” Claude says, “I think so- but I’d need his opinion, he’s been here longer, and knows more about Justice and the legal framework that the Astartes have developed here.”

Cedric nodded “Go for it. You’re the one with contact with him.”

Claude sends Khopesh a vox text [Please don't run to Anrir or the others about this quite yet. But hypothetically, if Ced- er someone had Audio/visual proof about Cas- er I mean, someone else, HYPOTHETICALLY being murdered by Pet- er a third someone else, that is currently,  hypothetically on Ancient Terra right now, and has a history of murdering primaris marines, what would happen? And this person that hypothetically nearly murdered Mat- I mean someone else as well.]

Khopesh hears a pinging noise and looks down at his vox, he can’t stop the grin that grows on his face and thinks to himself, ‘Bingo!’

“You seem pleased, something good?” Ghosk notes, lightly pressing the younger member of the Claw for more information if the other wanted to share.

“... Not yet- but soon. Hopefully.” Khopesh says. He’s not going to tell Anrir or the other members of the Claw yet. Per Claude’s request, for now. But finally. He’s glad that Claude is finally trusting them, or at least him more. 

“Alright,” Ghosk replies with a nod. “Keep in mind we can only back you up if we know what’s going on.”

“Yes Ghosk,” Khopesh says with a nod. He does send a message back to Claude. [A Primaris Killer- or an Astarte killer, like the one you texted me about would be setting himself up for execution. Especially if he has a heinous list of crimes and it’s clear that he’s not stopping.]

Claude responds swiftly to the message [Thank you for the information.]

Khopesh sends another message to Claude that [you all can argue for the Primaris killer being an ongoing and unremorseful threat. So they can Hopefully get the maximum punishment of execution by Night Lords. Or depending on the Chapter preferred executioners.]

[Thank you for that- so far as we know, he’s only gone after Black Templars.] Claude responds. [Knowing him… he might escalate to other Primaris if he comes across them. He’s got a nasty temper.]

[But even without that. The chapter the murderer is a part of would be Heavily pressured to either remove their own bad actor, or turn him over so he can be removed.]  Khopesh sends the message to Claude, and he is getting excited.

Khopesh is excited that Claude trusts them more, And that he'll soon be able to talk to Anrir and the others about getting a proper Hunt going. Ghosk waved at the younger Night Lord as he watched the younger one leave, wondering what was going on.

But patience...Patience! Like Anrir always says. He feels like he's vibrating- and is glad that he moved out of where the rest of the Claw are- because they would see the expression on his face and demand to see his communicator to know what’s going on.

A thought suddenly strikes Khopesh and the excitement dims a little and he sends another message- a very Anrir thought as he remembers watching the older Night Lord work and talk to others and sends another message, [I won't tell Anrir without your permission....But I also don't want you and your brothers to be in active danger. I have enough on my rotted conscience, so if things get bad. Please don't make me live with staying quiet. For however terrifying he might be. Anrir wants to help you, Claude. We all do. But we can't Do that unless you Tell us what we need to know. Information Is Warfare isn't it?]

Khopesh hopes he isn’t pushing Claude too much, but this is need to know information, and the fact that the youngest member of his Claw was talking about things in more specific detail was Important. Especially with that fucking bastard of a Raven Captain- that they are helping him handle as well.

[Could you send me a copy of the evidence that you and your brother-cousins have?] Khopesh sends, [The evidence that can be submitted to the Alliance, it will help clinch the Hunt to being declared.]

Khopesh has an excited blood thirsty expression on his face- and he is moving around pacing back and forth. He’s so tempted to try and find out where Claude is to rush over and talk, and see if he can get more answers out of him and the other Primaris Marines.

His excitement cools down and he shakes his head as he rereads one of the messages, [wait- no, if the message gets intercepted, they’d need a backup of it to show the Alliance.]

[Cedric and Ramiel say they want to talk with you in person.] Claude sends, [we are at the park nearby the Loyalist base on Cherry lane and main street. Could you come by and speak with us? Things… might be escalating.]

[I’ll be there as soon as I can] Khopesh responds and tries not to run to where Claude and the others are. He’s. really excited. The Primaris Marines are trusting them with this! And they- hopefully will help get the Primaris Marines to have Justice prevail and have a Hunt. It has been so long since they have been able to Hunt.

Khopesh tries to calm down and sees the way that Claude, Cedric, and Ramiel are sitting around a table, there is a quaint looking picnic- clever, make a serious meeting look like something more innocent, clever, clever boys. After the explanation they give, the video is shown and he watches it in full.

"You have footage of one of your battle brothers murders? Fantastic!” Khopesh says.

Cedric stills for a moment. The sheer visceral excitement radiating off of the Night Lord is off-putting to say the least. He briefly glances at Claude. What the fuck? He thinks particularly loudly at his witch-adjacent Brother-cousin. “... I find the joy you show in the death of another marine to be… Unsettling.”

Ramiel’s jaw clenches and blue eyes spark with rage and his hands clenched into fists and Claude jumps in before either of his cousins could smack the crap out of Khopesh, “ the translation "I'm excited we'll soon get to avenge your fallen and deliver Justice!" Not I’m happy your brother is dead.”

Claude very much understands what the former sounds like, and it had been shocking to hear such things, but he had learned how to understand Night Lords and the way they speak. He especially knows Khopesh better, having interacted with him a lot more than his brother-cousins, to keep them from getting too mad at the First Born Night Lord.

Khopesh calms down a little, realizing how callous that sounded, especially since this person is a threat- likely to them personally, as well as to others and apologies, “Sorry- that came out wrong. It really sucks that your brother is dead. I’m excited to be able to help you with this mess. That video- it’s Key Evidence in getting your tormentor put down, or whatever punishment you think is best.”

Cedric pauses for a moment before sending a copy of Castiel's dying video to the Night Lord. “Here is what he sent me. He timed it so hopefully his murderer wouldn't realize he was being recorded. Given the fact that Petras beat another Primaris marine to the point Mattias is currently in surgery now… The Chaplain must be nearby.”

Khopesh is a mixture of emotions, and his trembling a little as he tucks his hands behind his back as his hands clenched into fists. He’s a mixture of Excitement and Rage. How dare that bastard, Petras, go after the Primaris. 

Claude asks him, “What do you think of it?”

"I'm thinking I'd start with flaying Just the fingers! Then I'd yank the phalanges out one by one, on the right hand.” Khopesh starts, “For the left I'd Act like I was going to do the same, then snap the arm and force him to Bite Off his own fingers so the hands would Match-"

Part of Cedric was mildly Disgusted by Khopesh starting to explain what he would do to The bastard. The rest of him wanted to let the deranged Night Lord continue.

"About this Video as Evidence! Khopesh! How is the quality of the evidence!?" Ramiel interrupts.

"Oh right! Sorry...like I said it's fantastic as evidence. It clearly shows the perpetrator, goes decently in depth about his crimes, includes the bastards own fucking vileness on display and though it may sound tactless. Your deceased brother's testimony is something the Alliance will not be able to ignore. It may seem... disingenuous, but the pain and outrage you feel should be Used. It will show the tribunal that these crimes Must be Answered for, Your brother's lives not spent in Vain!" Khopesh says his eyes blazing with emotion and passion. "You never should have had to seek out this justice. Your elder brothers should have taken you beneath their wings, Like Anrir did for us!"

Cedric shifted a little, feeling the need to defend the firstborn Templar brothers who actually gave a damn about him and his Brothers. “A couple of our older Brothers have taken us in. Arnault and Roland have done their best to care for and protect us. As soon as they became peripherally aware of a threat to us that we hadn't told them about they would try and press for explanations. When… I told them earlier this week about Petras when Mattias was first brought in for treatment. They intended to kill the Chaplain, and said as much.” 

Khopesh paces around the table, prowling as he continues his rant, this explains why Claude and the others could be so stars- damned jumpy. Why Claude was so slow to trust- slow to allow himself Anrir and the other’s protections. 

Afraid of what being put under the protection of an older brother means accepting they have some power over you- and seeing and hearing that his cousins were murdered by shit head- and Claude and others getting beaten… yeah no. He’d be reluctant to give up any freedoms, even if it would help in some ways.

"But that's not the path this...Petras bastard chose. He Chose and by the looks of it continues to Choose to harm his own Battle Brothers, and worst! Those He should be responsible for." Khopesh says. "He is the worst type of Predatory, Vile, Rotten Bastard! And he Deserves to answer for his crimes. Your brothers, your fallen, deserve to have him Answer for his crimes."

"Let Us help you present this evidence Claude. Let the Claw help you and your brothers..." Khopesh doesn't use Your Claw as he feels it might push too hard and cause Claude to retreat. 

Instead Khopesh uses The Claw, still implying that Claude is a part of it, but leaving it up to interpretation. Avoiding Our Claw or My Claw as those could distinctly put Claude outside it, which is not true, and he doesn’t want to have Claude feel alienated, fuck the poor kid has had that done to him back in M42, him and his brothers.

Cedric, Ramiel, and Claude get an urgent text vox message from Jophiel it reads  [I’ve got a wounded Black Templar Primaris Marine. Near the stone outcropping two hours in the forest west of Gannet point. I’m stalling Petras- the fucker is Insane. Please help. Or send help. He’s threatening to kill me and Sariel. He knows about the Alliance rules, he just doesn’t fucking care.]

Cedric stood up, and swore under his breath, looking at Khopesh. “While you’re not the firstborn Brother who I’d choose to ask for help, you’re already here and I don’t know how long we have before the situation gets worse. We just received a call for help from Jophiel, a Primaris marine. He’s trying to keep another Primaris Marine alive and is facing Petras without help. We need Petras restrained now. If you mean your words, come and help us.” With that, Cedric took off at his top speed towards where Jophiel had pinged his location, texting back [I am coming! Delay him as long as you can!]

[I will do my best.] Jophiel responds.

He then messaged Arnault and Roland at the same time [Petras is attacking someone at this location. If you are able and willing, please help me keep him from murdering more Primaris marines.]

He gets an immediate response from both Arnault and Roland. Roland answered first. [On my way.]

Arnault answered [Will be there soon. Stay safe and be smart.]

His hearts drop to his stomach when he sees Jophiel on the ground, wings broken, and Petras standing over him. A Crusade of Black Templars and a dead Primaris Black Templar.

"You bastard!" Claude hears Cedric hiss as he chases after his charging Black Templar Brother cousins.

The closer they get to Petras and his Crusade, Cedric suddenly drops to Jophie's side- realizing the other is alive. "Why did you drug him? Break his wings?"

"He went mad," Petras says, "And he killed the Primaris Black Templar."

"LIAR!" Claude hears Cedric bellow. "Jophie is many things a brother killer, he is not."

"His blade is bloodied, and killed the Black Templar," Petras counteracts, telling the truth.

Khopesh has approached Jophiel and is messing with the younger Space Marine's helmet and lets out a dark chuckle and says, "You fool- Jophiel was recording the conversation he had with you."

"... what?" Petras says, sounding caught off guard.

Khopesh gives him a cruel smile and flips the helmet and projects the truth of the matter- Jophiel confronting Petras- who reveals his true cruelty.

How Jophiel tried to escape Petras at first- and only fought him after he'd broken his wings and made it so that escape wasn't likely. How Petras was the one to kill the Primaris Marine- using Jophiel's own weapon.

The looks of shock and horror and disappointment and disgust on the faces of Petras's Crusade have them circling around Petras- rather than trying to defend him.

Petras scowls, realizing that the jig is up and he taunts, "So- you know I have killed two of your disgusting Abominations."

"We are not abominations," Ramiel says tremulously, shaking, terrified, but wanting to stand against the bastard that murdered him in M42. "You are- you m-murdered me and a dozen of our brothers in M42- and have killed at least two of us here!"

Cedric moves closer to Ramiel, standing so that he is half in front of his terrified Brother, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he glowers at Petras. 

"Ah, so you have only found two of my victims," Petras taunts. "The souls of my other victims will never know peace because the location of their bodies will die with me."

"Who says that we will kill you here and now?" Khopesh says slyly, "After all- death is what you will get, but oh- how you should suffer before you die!"

[egrets-not-regrets]

Ah Petras got got! Sucks that another Primaris boy died though, but now they have the evidence and the admission of guilt in front of an audience. This bastard can’t wiggle away from punishment and justice now!

The Light of Truth

Author's note: More of the Primaris Boys in Husbandry. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Pallius, Cedric & Olivar. Thank you to @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for letting me borrow Khopesh. Thank you to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Ghosk.

Warning: Character death. Characters fighting. Bloodshed. Uh. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Cedric gets a message. A brother is nearly rescued, another is nearly lost. Petras reveals his true colors to more than just Primaris Marines.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Cedric's wrist mounted vox gets a communication ping.

[I am uncertain how much time I have left before I return to the embrace of the Omnissiah.] Castiel sends in his message through agonizing, and coughs blood from his lungs raggedly. There are some spots of blood, mucus and the mechanical fluids used to keep him alive that spatter on his vox. Ugh, despite how much the Mechanicum has enhanced him, he’s still so wretchedly fleshed.

After a few wet ragged coughs Castiel painfully continues, his voice more staticy [but I don't want to die without letting someone know the truth. Embedded in this message is a holo recording of a meeting between Chaplain Mephestil Petras of the Black Templars and a Chaos Marine… as well as his reactions to my queries on the subject. He murdered me. I hope this gets to you. The God Emperor Protects and provides for us all.]

Castiel had also sent the holo recording of Petras going too far in his punishment. When Petras finds and attacks him on Ancient Terra he's able to record some of it, as well as his agonizing cries as he tries to escape, but dies to Petras again. Castiel had managed to have his eyes- which were cybernetic to record Petras’s words and actions- and the recording cuts off after he finishes dying.

He had the message on a delayed sending, hoping that Petras wouldn't notice the vox message. Tied to send when twelve minutes after he flatlined, and he sent coordinates of where he lay dead, or so he hoped. Castiel had wanted to send it to one of his fellow Black Templars primaris Marines.

His last thoughts are Prayers to the Omnissiah that his message will get through to one of them. That Castiel’s death won’t be a waste, that at least someone will have this proof. 

Castiel knew in his hearts that it likely wouldn’t do anything much. Petras has killed Primaris Marines before with only a slap on the wrist. But at least it is something and the First borns will be interested in consorting with Chaos. Even though his life is worthless to them.

~

Cedric reads the written message, his mouth going dry, as a slow-burning fury ignites his hearts once again. He mutes the video, before playing it, as he is currently sitting down in the clinic’s staff cafeteria, and he has little doubt that the sounds of pain and misery will immediately attract the attention of everyone who could hear it.

Two. That’s two, in less than twenty-four hours. While Mattias wasn’t dead, he had been placed in a medically induced coma, to reduce the amount of movement that the young Astartes was capable of doing, as the injury to his spinal column could be operated on and treated, but was very delicate and any movements could potentially permanently render his legs unusable without spinal prosthetics or other augments that would be incredibly difficult to acquire on Ancient and Holy Terra. 

He knows that Anrir and the other Night Lords are incredibly dangerous. Its just for some reason they have decided to drag him protectively under their bat wings, rather than tear him to shreds with their talons. For now at least.

Claude and Khopesh are away from where Ghosk and the others are setting the stage for the ‘fight’ between ‘raven guard’ Anrir (or whatever name he’ll be using) and the Claw will ‘attack’ him.

Claude and Khopesh watch through binoculars as the staged fight happens- and Captain Kasz Kalleran takes the bait and falls for the trap, hook, line and sinker. His Captain did enjoy it when he could be painted as the hero of the stories he tells, regardless of the truth of the matter.

The Claw gets ‘chased off’ by the flock of Ravens who surround the wounded ‘bird’ and help patch him up. Claude closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. Anrir is far older than he is, and knows what he’s doing. Had chosen to do this- had planned for contingencies and decided on this course of action.

Claude is distracted by a vox text message he gets from Cedric and reads it with a concerned frown on his face.  [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

He sent a message to Claude via vox. [You wanted to talk? I’m on lunch break right now. Get Ramiel. This is urgent.]

[On my way.] Claude responds. [Where do you want to meet?]

Claude frowns, concern churning in his gut as he sends a message to Ramiel about Cedric’s request. Ramiel responds immediately to his message and sends one to Cedric as well.

“I have to go- Cedric needs my help with something,” Claude informs Khopesh.

“Have fun with that,” Khopesh says, “I’ll check on the others, see how they are doing after the ‘fight’ with the Raven Guards.”

Claude nods, “sounds good.”

[The park nearest to The Clinic. We should be able to talk freely there.] Cedric texted both Ramiel and Claude. 

While he waited for them to respond, he walked over to where Olivar was currently sitting, scowling into the bowl of food in front of him. “You know it’s not going to leap out at you and try to murder you. What’s on your mind?”

“You told me that He is on Ancient Terra, too, right? Why the fuck were we sent here, back into his reach? Unless He is from before He started…” Olivar swallowed hard, a low, wordless growl leaving him. “Should we be keeping what The Bastard has done to us a secret? Your mentor did not tolerate his grox-shite, at least when it came to you, no matter what The Shithead said you did, or didn’t do. Surely there’s got to be at least one Firstborn marine you can talk to about all of this shit.”

“... There are a couple I’ve told some of what’s happened to. In M42. They kind of bullied me into telling them, but given what they’re like, I really should have realized that they were going to do so, sooner or later. Do you remember what I told you about Bruders Roland and Arnault?” Cedric asked, rocking back on his heels a little. 

“... Yeah… One’s a battle brother,” Olivar says, “The other’s an Emperor’s Champion… something about Bonding? Bonded?”

“... Trust me, the Bonding and Bonded conversation is for when you are better healed and we aren’t doing emergency scrambling. But I think… If you, Ramiel  and Pallius agree… I think I might ask both of them to help me lodge a formal complaint against Petras, to get some kind of official record as to the grox-shite and cruelty he is capable of being known publicly.”

“That sounds vaguely ominous Ced,” Olivar says, his scowl shifting a little. He scoffs a little, “didn’t we try that before and were told ‘stop being whiny little bitch and take the ‘character building’ lumps and suck it up?’ Why would that change since we’re here?”

“Bonds are wonderful things, I promise! From what I’ve seen, they are good. Also, that was by other firstborn brothers in M42. I told them that Petras killed a dozen primaris marines in M42 and that both of them immediately swore to kill him. I entirely believe that they meant that, too.”

“I mean… you are lovable Ced,” Olivar says slightly teasingly, “And Apothecaries are hard to come by. Of course they want to protect you.”

Cedric huffed a little and shook his head “I don’t think it’s just because I’m an Apothecary. They were furious at the thought of younger brothers being killed for existing. Not that I’m advocating for Chaplain Petras to die, just to… To be brought before a tribunal and made to answer for his crimes.” 

By the god-emperor, does the wounded fury and sorrow howling in his hearts want Petras dead. Not just dead, but killed slowly, painfully. To have the fucker be made to beg and plead for mercy, for an ounce of compassion and be shown exactly as much as he gave Cedric’s Brothers. 

None. 

But that path led towards falling to Khorne, or perhaps Slaanesh, depending on the way he went about it. So formal sanctioning it was. For his own safety, and the safety of others.

“I wonder how Justice and punishment are delivered on Ancient Terra? I think that’s something we should find out, before we do anything or say anything.” Olivar scratches his cheek, “hm… let me think on it. Unless the Bastard does something… Bad here.”

“He’s killed a Primaris Tech marine. I just received Castiel’s dying vox-messages and video-footage of his murder.” Cedric answered, shaking his head a little. “Mattias - another Primaris Marine, is currently under anesthesia and in surgery because of the complications from Petras beating the fuck out of him yesterday.”

“Fucking bastard, you have convinced me, I’ll talk to who ever it is about his discipline and punishment methods.” Olivar hisses, “I remember Cassie- quiet, dutiful and always helped with weapons and armor maintenance. He was so happy to be chosen as a Tech Marine. He loved to talk about a certain kind of cog wheel.”

Cedric nodded, saying “I’m going to check in with Pallius first, then Ramiel. To see how they both feel about going forwards with what we know of petras’ crimes. I will be taking point on this. As the Apothecary of the group… And the one who survived longest in M42 before being sent to Ancient Terra, this is my duty and my burden.” With that he nodded, standing up and heading over to where Pallius was sitting and eating lunch.

~

“Pallius, I’ve run this by Olivar, and I have his vote. I won’t reveal it to you as I don’t want to influence your decision either way. But I… I am asking if you want me to come forward to certain firstborn marines - Brothers Roland and Arnault of the Black Templars, and Captain Ash’val for certain about what Chaplain Petras has done to us. He’s killed at least one Primaris Marine on Ancient Terra. He’s badly wounded Mattias, who is currently in surgery.” Cedric explained, his voice low and quick he gave the other a brief summary of what Castiel had sent to him.

“... If our words and scars can help keep others safe,” Pallius says quietly, “then… then I shall speak of the shameful things.”

“It’s not your shame, what he had done to you, Pallius. It is his. Please, you must remember this.” Cedric urged his brother, his hearts caught in the back of his throat. 

Pallius ducks his head a little at the others words as his eyes become wet and he rubs the grit from his eyes. “I… I’ll try to.”

“Thank you, Pallius. You have Dorn’s own courage.” Cedric murmured, gently pressing his forehead to Pallius’, as an affectionate gesture.

“Keep safe Ced,” Pallius says, closing his eyes and leaning into  Cedric a little, returning the gesture as much as he can. “... You have Dorn’s own courage as well Brother.”

Cedric nodded, walking out of the cafeteria as he read up on what had been sent to his wrist-mounted vox, mind whirling. 

[I got the message from Claude. I’ll be at the park in seven minutes. Do I need to get Catius or Oleandros? Or have them run a Distraction?] Ramiel sends Cedric a text vox message, adding another statement. [Eta five minutes, told Chaplain Bo’shan I was taking my lunch break. He seemed happy about that.]

[I will be there in five minutes.] Claude says a thought occurs to him and he asks [Do you want me to get Jophi?]

[... I  don’t want to involve all of the others just as of yet. Any more of this, and I request that we please speak in person. Neither of you are in trouble.] Cedric vox-texted back, making sure to send the last sentence, so as to not worry them too much. He hoped.

[Wilco.] Ramiel replies. He is worried- just what is going on? He wonders what Cedric has found out or wants to discuss. 

He had to go by Reclusiarch Feldarim’s office to get to where he was going- the other watched him go with a casual glance. But as he didn’t seem too upset, the other let him pass without harassing him. Which gives him a sense of relief, as Chaplain Bo’shan had lightly pressed him for details, and he’d said that he was meeting up with Cedric and Claude for lunch.

He’s able to excuse himself and grabs something to eat. And then ensures to grab enough for Claude and Cedric. Both of them are terrible at remembering to eat. He also grabs some of the homemade ice cream as a sweet treat, just in case the conversation needs such a thing.

Claude replies [Understood- I also have some… interesting information on Justice and Punishment that The Night Lords talked about for Ancient Terra and the Alliance.]

[Good, I have questions about that, which will help in deciding in which way things will go. Whether we go the official route, or take care of trash on our own.] Cedric texted back.

~

He must have one hell of a scowl on his face, because the baseline humans who he passes by all scramble to get the hell out of his way. While normally this would make him feel guilty, especially as the baselines who live on the base are either bonded to one of the marines who lives on base… Or they have nowhere else to live and they work jobs on base in order to pay in kind for housing and food. 

Zariel had heard the whispers and more loud complaints and worried about Fierce Angry Scowling Astarte in black and white scrubs. So he had sent a message to Ash’val, Feldarim, and after a moment’s hesitation, to Hura. Just in case.

“Cedric,” Zariel calls out carefully, “... You know I am here for you, if you need or want to talk about something that’s bothering you. If you want to talk.”

“... I acknowledge this. However, I need to speak with a couple of others. We will decide a few things and then figure out who to reach out to. You are, I will say, on the short list for the… Issue that needs handling.” Cedric responded, falling back on formal wording in order to hopefully get the teal Ultramarine to back off a little. He didn’t have the time to try and shake off a Teal tail. 

“Very well,” Zariel says with a nod, watching the younger Astarte move. “I am honored to have such trust.”

He decides that it would be best not to press him too much. After all- he didn’t want to rile the other and send him into hiding again. The fact that young Claude had managed to teach a Black Templar how to be stealthy and good at it had been… more than a little distressing… As impressed as he’d been after his hearts had stopped feeling like they were going to burst from stress.

Cedric nods brusquely before marching the rest of the way out of the base, still scowling and not in the least bit attempting to hide his expression in the least. 

Zariel also rolls a thought or two in his head. Whatever it was that Cedric had told Roland and Arnault had made the two older Black Templars exceedingly angry.  So he was going to wait before sending a message to the older ones about this… Newest thing.

~

Cedric spotted Ramiel and Claude in one of their favorite spots in the nearby park. The brief stretch of his legs, and outside did help him calm down slightly, though his nerves - and his fury - were still jangling just beneath the surface of his skin. He waved over at the two of them, attempting to smile “Hey… Claude, Ramiel.”

Claude had helped Ramiel set up the basket of food, a blend of baseline human and Astarte food and drinks. They had set it up on one of the wooden benches that was rated for Astartes to sit on safely with the table neatly set out, with a picnic cover neatly tucked around to keep things a bit cleaner.

“Hey Cedric,” Ramiel says, “I thought since it was about lunch time, and you had a Conversation to speak with us, a picnic would help the Look of things. Regardless of what is spoken about.”

“Nice to see you Ced,” Claude says with a grin.

Claude heads to the area specified by Cedric and helps Ramiel set up the picnic that the other had decided to grab. It was a good cover- and they’d get to eat something while they talk about the Urgent matter.

At least on the outset it would look like the three of them were enjoying lunch and a picnic, which would have curious eyes not think anything Suspicious is going on. Not that he thinks that Cedric is doing anything particularly troubling. But it helps throw off any potential watchers, just in case.

 Claude wonders if the Claw is encouraging his paranoia and suspicious tendencies before shaking his head a little and greeting Cedric. He sees the thunderous scowl on the other’s face and suspects that whatever he’s going to say is not going to be great.

He’s proven right as he listens, upset at what Cedric has learned. He goes over the details of what he remembers of the conversation with Khopesh about Justice and Punishments. Ramiel and Cedric agree to speak with Khopesh in public and he sends another message and Khopesh arrives swiftly.

“... A picnic does sound good.” Cedric relented, plopping down next to his Brother, leaning into his familiar warmth. He looked at the spread of food and drinks, deliberately focusing on what he could smell and see before him, in a desperate attempt to calm down, at least a little. 

Ramiel hums one of the prayer hymns that he knows helps Cedric calm down, Claude slowly reaching out and holding one of the Apothecary Apprentic’s hands and lightly squeezing it. Claude joins in on the song, humming the chorus and harmonizing with them, the words whispered in High Gothic.

He hummed along to the hymn, allowing the calming focus to come over him. Anger had it’s place on the battlefield, but too much of it was dangerous. Not only to oneself, but to everyone around the one lost to fury. He squeezed Claude’s hand back gently, managing a rueful smile “I have bad news, worse news, questions, and a proposal, contingent upon the answer to those questions. What do you want to hear first?”

“What’s the worst news?” Claude and Ramiel ask at the same time, bracing themselves.

Claude looks around them glancing at his brothers as he takes some of the bread and spreads jame and nut butter on bread- as well as sprinkling some Astarte nutri-paste and cutting it into thirds for the three of them to eat. 

Claude cast his senses, Warp-related and not to ensure that they weren’t being listened to. Glad that no one was, either through technology or warpy senses he lets go of his crackling humming power and focuses on Cedric’s words. He takes a bite of food to keep the spots of darkness out of his vision.

“Tech-Marine Castiel of the Black Templars was killed earlier today, at the hands of Chaplain Captain Petras. When Tech Marine Castiel became aware that he was going to die, as there was no one to intercede on his behalf, he sent me all of the information he had on the chaplain in question, sending it on a delay to hopefully not arouse suspicion from his murderer.” Cedric revealed, doing his best to keep his voice a low, emotionless monotone. He failed spectacularly, as his voice cracked. He paused, taking a sip from one of the glasses of lemonade before continuing “Brother Mattias of the Black Templars is currently in surgery due to the complications from the beating he received, allegedly from Chaplain Petras, according to the Hydra who brought him into the clinic late last night.”  

“God Emperor curse him,” Ramiel swears softly, before flinching as he realizes the words that had come out of his mouth. “He’s… Perhaps not escalating, but he’s continuing to do what he did back in M42.”

“... He knows he died for Challenging the High Marshal,” Claude says with a frown, his eyes flashing teal as he thinks “... For killing and purging Primaris… and he’s…doing it here when Astartes number far fewer. He’s … not likely to change his ways.”

“Ramiel, I have asked Pallius and Olivar, but I will with-hold their votes until you tell me what you want to do. Should we come forward to certain firstborn marines, and tell them about what Petras has done, both in M42, and on Ancient Terra, or would you rather we handle this ourselves?” Cedric asked, his voice shaking a little, but stubborn ferocity beat in his chest. He would deal with this fucker, one way or the other.

Ramiel reaches over- carefully telegraphing his movements as he gives his brother a side hug. Claude is on Cedric’s other side and does the same thing. The three of them gently hugged each other for a moment. Ramiel gathers his thoughts, which is hard because they keep scattering in a thousand-thousand different directions as he thinks over the other’s words. 

“I think,” Ramiel says, his voice cracking a little, he coughs and then takes a sip of the lemonade laced with hydration rations, “I think, we should go to the First borns, see what they do… if it’s … unsatisfactory …. We can… handle him after the fact.”

Cedric side-hugs Ramiel back, trembling a little with the force of the emotions running rampant within him. He focuses on Claude “You mentioned that the Night Lords spoke of how Astartes dealt Justice in this time period? Please explain to the best of your abilities. Your answers will help me decide whether or not I will come forward with the information to whoever I’m supposed to in an official capacity… Or if I just ask Arnault and Roland if he would please help me murder a bastard. They are both already aware of Petras’ crimes in M42 and swore to kill him.” Their vehement and immediate declarations of Murder had been… Cedric swallowed a little. They had been more gratifying than the young Apothecary had wanted to admit.

“So Khopesh and the Claw of Night Lords knows about why certain… First Born Brothers in M42 don’t like us… And they find that reasoning stupid, foolish and wasteful. Claude nods, “That- actually is one method of Justice that the rest of the chapter’s can’t mess with. Justice for crimes done, unless it’s inter-chapter stuff, or there is a request to intercede on the behalf of the victims, is done in-chapter. Unless their crimes are bad enough that an Example needs to be made.”

Claude gathers his thoughts and pulls out the data slate and reads the notes he’d taken, the conversation that he had with Khopesh. He hands the data slate over so they can read about Hunting- and how the worst of the Astarte criminals, like serial killers, are handed over to the Night Lords, which is one of the worst punishments that can happen to a person. How the Hunt is declared- what happens during it, and after.

“There is a precedent,” Claude says, licking his lips a little, “where if an Astarte is killing other Astarte- that their Chapter, at first are the ones to handle them, but if for whatever reason they can’t or won’t… They tend to be handed over to the Night Lords. I… uh… asked some Questions- and Khopesh seemed… excited about the idea of a Hunt. I think… no, I know he reported the conversation we had about Justice and Punishment to the Claw Leader- Anrir, who’s an Apothecary- who’s older than Hura.”

“... Petras wasn’t the only one killing Primaris Marines in M42. Nor was he the only Firstborn Black Templar to be doing so.” Cedric murmured, his voice low and quiet. “As much as I want… As much as I want to raise bolter and blade against the fucker myself, alongside whoever else wants to kill him. I don’t… I don’t think that simply killing Petras will ensure long-term protection of our fellow Primaris Marines. I will ask Arnault and Roland their opinions on this… But…”

“There are other punishments,” Claude says, “They talked about.. Flaying… among other things. Some. Very graphic descriptions that I won’t go into detail about right now, as well as having the people who were hurt by the person, to either participate in the person’s punishment actively, or have a hand in deciding how they are punished. There is, unfortunately, a need to gather evidence and proof of crimes more than verbal witness evidence.”

“Would the recorded audio-visual recordings of a now-murdered marine be enough evidence?” Cedric asked bluntly. 

“... Will you allow me to ask Khopesh that?” Claude says, “I think so- but I’d need his opinion, he’s been here longer, and knows more about Justice and the legal framework that the Astartes have developed here.”

Cedric nodded “Go for it. You’re the one with contact with him.”

Claude sends Khopesh a vox text [Please don't run to Anrir or the others about this quite yet. But hypothetically, if Ced- er someone had Audio/visual proof about Cas- er I mean, someone else, HYPOTHETICALLY being murdered by Pet- er a third someone else, that is currently,  hypothetically on Ancient Terra right now, and has a history of murdering primaris marines, what would happen? And this person that hypothetically nearly murdered Mat- I mean someone else as well.]

Khopesh hears a pinging noise and looks down at his vox, he can’t stop the grin that grows on his face and thinks to himself, ‘Bingo!’

“You seem pleased, something good?” Ghosk notes, lightly pressing the younger member of the Claw for more information if the other wanted to share.

“... Not yet- but soon. Hopefully.” Khopesh says. He’s not going to tell Anrir or the other members of the Claw yet. Per Claude’s request, for now. But finally. He’s glad that Claude is finally trusting them, or at least him more. 

“Alright,” Ghosk replies with a nod. “Keep in mind we can only back you up if we know what’s going on.”

“Yes Ghosk,” Khopesh says with a nod. He does send a message back to Claude. [A Primaris Killer- or an Astarte killer, like the one you texted me about would be setting himself up for execution. Especially if he has a heinous list of crimes and it’s clear that he’s not stopping.]

Claude responds swiftly to the message [Thank you for the information.]

Khopesh sends another message to Claude that [you all can argue for the Primaris killer being an ongoing and unremorseful threat. So they can Hopefully get the maximum punishment of execution by Night Lords. Or depending on the Chapter preferred executioners.]

[Thank you for that- so far as we know, he’s only gone after Black Templars.] Claude responds. [Knowing him… he might escalate to other Primaris if he comes across them. He’s got a nasty temper.]

[But even without that. The chapter the murderer is a part of would be Heavily pressured to either remove their own bad actor, or turn him over so he can be removed.]  Khopesh sends the message to Claude, and he is getting excited.

Khopesh is excited that Claude trusts them more, And that he'll soon be able to talk to Anrir and the others about getting a proper Hunt going. Ghosk waved at the younger Night Lord as he watched the younger one leave, wondering what was going on.

But patience...Patience! Like Anrir always says. He feels like he's vibrating- and is glad that he moved out of where the rest of the Claw are- because they would see the expression on his face and demand to see his communicator to know what’s going on.

A thought suddenly strikes Khopesh and the excitement dims a little and he sends another message- a very Anrir thought as he remembers watching the older Night Lord work and talk to others and sends another message, [I won't tell Anrir without your permission....But I also don't want you and your brothers to be in active danger. I have enough on my rotted conscience, so if things get bad. Please don't make me live with staying quiet. For however terrifying he might be. Anrir wants to help you, Claude. We all do. But we can't Do that unless you Tell us what we need to know. Information Is Warfare isn't it?]

Khopesh hopes he isn’t pushing Claude too much, but this is need to know information, and the fact that the youngest member of his Claw was talking about things in more specific detail was Important. Especially with that fucking bastard of a Raven Captain- that they are helping him handle as well.

[Could you send me a copy of the evidence that you and your brother-cousins have?] Khopesh sends, [The evidence that can be submitted to the Alliance, it will help clinch the Hunt to being declared.]

Khopesh has an excited blood thirsty expression on his face- and he is moving around pacing back and forth. He’s so tempted to try and find out where Claude is to rush over and talk, and see if he can get more answers out of him and the other Primaris Marines.

His excitement cools down and he shakes his head as he rereads one of the messages, [wait- no, if the message gets intercepted, they’d need a backup of it to show the Alliance.]

[Cedric and Ramiel say they want to talk with you in person.] Claude sends, [we are at the park nearby the Loyalist base on Cherry lane and main street. Could you come by and speak with us? Things… might be escalating.]

[I’ll be there as soon as I can] Khopesh responds and tries not to run to where Claude and the others are. He’s. really excited. The Primaris Marines are trusting them with this! And they- hopefully will help get the Primaris Marines to have Justice prevail and have a Hunt. It has been so long since they have been able to Hunt.

Khopesh tries to calm down and sees the way that Claude, Cedric, and Ramiel are sitting around a table, there is a quaint looking picnic- clever, make a serious meeting look like something more innocent, clever, clever boys. After the explanation they give, the video is shown and he watches it in full.

"You have footage of one of your battle brothers murders? Fantastic!” Khopesh says.

Cedric stills for a moment. The sheer visceral excitement radiating off of the Night Lord is off-putting to say the least. He briefly glances at Claude. What the fuck? He thinks particularly loudly at his witch-adjacent Brother-cousin. “... I find the joy you show in the death of another marine to be… Unsettling.”

Ramiel’s jaw clenches and blue eyes spark with rage and his hands clenched into fists and Claude jumps in before either of his cousins could smack the crap out of Khopesh, “ the translation "I'm excited we'll soon get to avenge your fallen and deliver Justice!" Not I’m happy your brother is dead.”

Claude very much understands what the former sounds like, and it had been shocking to hear such things, but he had learned how to understand Night Lords and the way they speak. He especially knows Khopesh better, having interacted with him a lot more than his brother-cousins, to keep them from getting too mad at the First Born Night Lord.

Khopesh calms down a little, realizing how callous that sounded, especially since this person is a threat- likely to them personally, as well as to others and apologies, “Sorry- that came out wrong. It really sucks that your brother is dead. I’m excited to be able to help you with this mess. That video- it’s Key Evidence in getting your tormentor put down, or whatever punishment you think is best.”

Cedric pauses for a moment before sending a copy of Castiel's dying video to the Night Lord. “Here is what he sent me. He timed it so hopefully his murderer wouldn't realize he was being recorded. Given the fact that Petras beat another Primaris marine to the point Mattias is currently in surgery now… The Chaplain must be nearby.”

Khopesh is a mixture of emotions, and his trembling a little as he tucks his hands behind his back as his hands clenched into fists. He’s a mixture of Excitement and Rage. How dare that bastard, Petras, go after the Primaris. 

Claude asks him, “What do you think of it?”

"I'm thinking I'd start with flaying Just the fingers! Then I'd yank the phalanges out one by one, on the right hand.” Khopesh starts, “For the left I'd Act like I was going to do the same, then snap the arm and force him to Bite Off his own fingers so the hands would Match-"

Part of Cedric was mildly Disgusted by Khopesh starting to explain what he would do to The bastard. The rest of him wanted to let the deranged Night Lord continue.

"About this Video as Evidence! Khopesh! How is the quality of the evidence!?" Ramiel interrupts.

"Oh right! Sorry...like I said it's fantastic as evidence. It clearly shows the perpetrator, goes decently in depth about his crimes, includes the bastards own fucking vileness on display and though it may sound tactless. Your deceased brother's testimony is something the Alliance will not be able to ignore. It may seem... disingenuous, but the pain and outrage you feel should be Used. It will show the tribunal that these crimes Must be Answered for, Your brother's lives not spent in Vain!" Khopesh says his eyes blazing with emotion and passion. "You never should have had to seek out this justice. Your elder brothers should have taken you beneath their wings, Like Anrir did for us!"

Cedric shifted a little, feeling the need to defend the firstborn Templar brothers who actually gave a damn about him and his Brothers. “A couple of our older Brothers have taken us in. Arnault and Roland have done their best to care for and protect us. As soon as they became peripherally aware of a threat to us that we hadn't told them about they would try and press for explanations. When… I told them earlier this week about Petras when Mattias was first brought in for treatment. They intended to kill the Chaplain, and said as much.” 

Khopesh paces around the table, prowling as he continues his rant, this explains why Claude and the others could be so stars- damned jumpy. Why Claude was so slow to trust- slow to allow himself Anrir and the other’s protections. 

Afraid of what being put under the protection of an older brother means accepting they have some power over you- and seeing and hearing that his cousins were murdered by shit head- and Claude and others getting beaten… yeah no. He’d be reluctant to give up any freedoms, even if it would help in some ways.

"But that's not the path this...Petras bastard chose. He Chose and by the looks of it continues to Choose to harm his own Battle Brothers, and worst! Those He should be responsible for." Khopesh says. "He is the worst type of Predatory, Vile, Rotten Bastard! And he Deserves to answer for his crimes. Your brothers, your fallen, deserve to have him Answer for his crimes."

"Let Us help you present this evidence Claude. Let the Claw help you and your brothers..." Khopesh doesn't use Your Claw as he feels it might push too hard and cause Claude to retreat. 

Instead Khopesh uses The Claw, still implying that Claude is a part of it, but leaving it up to interpretation. Avoiding Our Claw or My Claw as those could distinctly put Claude outside it, which is not true, and he doesn’t want to have Claude feel alienated, fuck the poor kid has had that done to him back in M42, him and his brothers.

Cedric, Ramiel, and Claude get an urgent text vox message from Jophiel it reads  [I’ve got a wounded Black Templar Primaris Marine. Near the stone outcropping two hours in the forest west of Gannet point. I’m stalling Petras- the fucker is Insane. Please help. Or send help. He’s threatening to kill me and Sariel. He knows about the Alliance rules, he just doesn’t fucking care.]

Cedric stood up, and swore under his breath, looking at Khopesh. “While you’re not the firstborn Brother who I’d choose to ask for help, you’re already here and I don’t know how long we have before the situation gets worse. We just received a call for help from Jophiel, a Primaris marine. He’s trying to keep another Primaris Marine alive and is facing Petras without help. We need Petras restrained now. If you mean your words, come and help us.” With that, Cedric took off at his top speed towards where Jophiel had pinged his location, texting back [I am coming! Delay him as long as you can!]

[I will do my best.] Jophiel responds.

He then messaged Arnault and Roland at the same time [Petras is attacking someone at this location. If you are able and willing, please help me keep him from murdering more Primaris marines.]

He gets an immediate response from both Arnault and Roland. Roland answered first. [On my way.]

Arnault answered [Will be there soon. Stay safe and be smart.]

His hearts drop to his stomach when he sees Jophiel on the ground, wings broken, and Petras standing over him. A Crusade of Black Templars and a dead Primaris Black Templar.

"You bastard!" Claude hears Cedric hiss as he chases after his charging Black Templar Brother cousins.

The closer they get to Petras and his Crusade, Cedric suddenly drops to Jophie's side- realizing the other is alive. "Why did you drug him? Break his wings?"

"He went mad," Petras says, "And he killed the Primaris Black Templar."

"LIAR!" Claude hears Cedric bellow. "Jophie is many things a brother killer, he is not."

"His blade is bloodied, and killed the Black Templar," Petras counteracts, telling the truth.

Khopesh has approached Jophiel and is messing with the younger Space Marine's helmet and lets out a dark chuckle and says, "You fool- Jophiel was recording the conversation he had with you."

"... what?" Petras says, sounding caught off guard.

Khopesh gives him a cruel smile and flips the helmet and projects the truth of the matter- Jophiel confronting Petras- who reveals his true cruelty.

How Jophiel tried to escape Petras at first- and only fought him after he'd broken his wings and made it so that escape wasn't likely. How Petras was the one to kill the Primaris Marine- using Jophiel's own weapon.

The looks of shock and horror and disappointment and disgust on the faces of Petras's Crusade have them circling around Petras- rather than trying to defend him.

Petras scowls, realizing that the jig is up and he taunts, "So- you know I have killed two of your disgusting Abominations."

"We are not abominations," Ramiel says tremulously, shaking, terrified, but wanting to stand against the bastard that murdered him in M42. "You are- you m-murdered me and a dozen of our brothers in M42- and have killed at least two of us here!"

Cedric moves closer to Ramiel, standing so that he is half in front of his terrified Brother, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he glowers at Petras. 

"Ah, so you have only found two of my victims," Petras taunts. "The souls of my other victims will never know peace because the location of their bodies will die with me."

"Who says that we will kill you here and now?" Khopesh says slyly, "After all- death is what you will get, but oh- how you should suffer before you die!"

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

Olly needs a hug like Now.

Though it Was fun to see Khopesh chiming in to be the big brother who gives good if...questionable advice.

Khopesh: Need lesson in fear? No problem! I can teach you how to threaten to knit your targets intestines into a square while keeping them alive, the trick is to make as few cuts as possible, as bleeding will result in the fun ending too soon.

Olly: i just wanted advice on being scary...

Khopesh: Are you scared though?

Olly: ...Ooooh. I get it. But please no intestine quilting.

Khopesh: Fine fine.

Olly got so much self worth issues, he doesn't realize all his brothers would be heartbroken without him. I mean just look, multiple people are ready to throw hands knowing he was targeted.

Lessons on Intimidation

Author's note: More of Husbandry AU. Thank you to @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for letting me borrow Khopesh! Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric.

Summary: Olly is going to tell Cedric about the bullies, and the rest of the squad to warn them about Algret and his brother. Just in case they try to push the other's around. He also asks Kerubiel for mean-ness lessons and 'how to intimidate' people lessons from Khopesh.

Warning: uh... Discussions of bullying. Let me know if I need to add more.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis

Oleandros is going to tell the rest of the Primaris squad about the Apothecary Space wolf Algret and his friend and what they did. Also- he's going to be asking Kerubiel on how to seem mean. Keru's really good at spooking other people.

Oh! Khopesh is great at Intimidation as well. He's going to go ask Khopesh for lessons on intimidation. He sends Khopesh a message, who eagerly responds and they meet up near the Chaos base.

"Hey Khopesh. Uh. I was wondering if you'd teach me how to be Intimidating?"

"Sure!" Khopesh says, excited that one of the Primaris marines wants to be taught how to intimidate others. He's go so many different ideas, "Before that, I want to know the context."

"So ... there are a couple of Space Wolves," Olly explains what had happened, and how they had bullied him to send a message to Cedric.

"Tch, and they call Night Lords Cowards," Khopesh says shaking his head before grinning maniacally as he started talking about his favorite methods of intimidation and methods of torture.

Olly is grateful for his enthusiasm but says, "I ah...I don't want to Actually torture anyone...you Know that right? Its important to me that you know that."

'Ah sweet summer child still an Ultramarine at heart.' Khopesh thinks to himself fondly as he nods and replies, "Suit yourself, but I will Gladly teach you how to make people, think you're capable of such a thing."

"That after all, is the Root of fear. And that will be lesson one, what about you can you use to be Scary?" Khopesh trilled walking around the Primaris who followed with his gaze. "Intimidation is One thing, but to invoke true Fear comes from using what you Have to show you are Capable of inflicting what the fear predicts."

The Night Lord grinned showing off his maw of impressive sharp teeth.

Olly ran his tongue over his own blunt ones. "I don't think will work for me."

"Nonsense!" Khopesh chortled. "Think for a moment, what's something those nice chompers can do that mine can't?"

Olly seemed lost for a moment, before Khopesh sighed and pointed to the pouch he'd seen the Primaris store his rock snacks in. Olly grabs out one of his snacking rocks to show him, still a little confused.

"...I can...eat rocks??" Olly replied. "So can many others??"

"Yes! And do you know how Wild that is to witness??" Khopesh replied with a disbelieving laugh. "Just imagine it! Getting into your targets space, looking over them with your impressive height and Then!"

Oh right, one of the more minor differences between Primaris and First Borns, which while both of them can consume normally inedible to base line human items, Primaris marines have stronger bones, which include dental ones as well.

Khopesh prompted with a flourish. "You rip a chunk of rock from your environment, doesn't matter what or where just as long as you can chew it, and Bite it in Half right in Front of them!"

Olly listens and nods to what Khopesh is saying with a serious expression on his face. He looks around for a piece of rock that would look impressive enough.

"The first things their minds will go to is 'Gee what if that rock was my skull', better bother someone else." Khopesh elaborates, "and of course there are the more subtle ways to invoke fear but we'll get to those later."

"Oh," Olly says, "That's good to know. Thanks Khopesh!"

He looks around and then easily rips up a large chunk of rock, "Like this?"

And he turns to look over at Khopesh with the big chunk of rock and takes a few bite out of it. Making sure his expression was stern-neutral as he did so.

"Oh! This rock is rather- tasty," Olly says happily, breaking out of character, "And the texture is quite nice."

"… I shouldn't say that to the person I'm trying to intimidate, right?" Olly says a little sheepishly. He says after a moment or two of eating the moss covered rock.

"That will help with people thinking you are intimidating if you don't talk about the flavor and texture of the rock you are eating, yes." Khopesh says with a laugh.

Bullying is something that can happen between astartes some times, it happens and it sucks. But- Olly's doing what he can to fix it himself and warn other potential victims of bullying. If he wants more help, he hopes that Olly knows that he can come to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What did you want to talk about?" Kerubiel asks Olly as he looks at his fellow Primaris marine curiously.

"Oh- so A couple of Scout Space wolves bullied me earlier today." Olly says, "Because the Apothecary in training was upset that Cedric beat the shit out of him for being an asshole. But he didn't go after Ced because he knows Cedric will beat his ass again."

"And they went after you, despite how big you are because your softer," Kerubiel says, "... have you told Cedric yet?"

"Oh... yeah..." Olly says, "As soon as I find a way to phrase it so that Ced doesn't go all Wrath of Dorn on them."

Kerubiel snorts, "ha- oh, I want to be there to see his reaction."

"It's not funny!" Olly says frowning at the Dark Angel, who continues to laugh, "No- but those flea bitten dogs deserve the Karma they'll get for fucking with you."

"I'm hoping telling Ced that I'm taking mean-ness lesson from you, if that's okay, and you want to - you don't have to-" Olly rambles.

"Meanness lessons?" Kerubiel says with a chuckle, a fond smile pulling at his lips. Some might grow offended to what Olly was babbling, but he knew what Olly was really intending to say. "Sure- I can help with that Olly."

"Oh- thanks, Keru!" Olly says.

"Provided you give me the names and descriptions of those to shit heads." Kerubiel continues.

"... You're going to do something to them, aren't you?" Olly says with a frown, "I can fight my own battles."

"Yeah- and they involved an innocent third party," Kerubiel says with a scowl. "We both know what happens when shitty first borns go after Primaris. How Bad it can get, and how fucking little recourse we have."

"That... that was back in M42," Olly says, "The- the First borns- and Cedric and the other Primaris Marines say that... that things are different on Ancient Terra."

"Yeah sure," Kerubiel says rolling his eyes, "Just because their punishments are lighter, don't me that the protections that the First Borns and Terran born Space marines get doesn't mean it applies to us. It never did, not really in M42, why the hell would it be true here?"

Olly goes quiet and wilts a little at that. "... we could have Claude as Khopesh or Anrir about that."

"Eh, if that's necessary, maybe later," Kerubiel says with a shrug, "And Anrir only cares about Claude, not much about the rest of us. Which I get why. Claude can be adorable and he's adopted him. Good on Claude for getting such a fierce mentor."

"Albeit an unstable one," Olly mutters quiet, "... but then again. He's Terran born, and has survived from the Unification wars to After the Heresy. So."

"Holy Stars," Kerubiel swears, "He's old."

"So old." Olly replies.

Kerubiel and Olly are quiet for a moment, it shows just how dangerous he is. An old man surviving as long as he has in the type of career they have. It's rare and means that Anrir is exceptionally dangerous and good at what he does.

Kerubiel teaches him different ways to move and certain phrases to say, also reminds him of certain kinds of situations and the build up for them so he can realize what he's potentially getting set up for before it happens.

"Alright," Kerubiel says, "I think that's enough for now. Cedric and a couple of the others are going to be visiting Atlas and the other wounded Primaris. Good time to go let a whole bunch of the others know about those shit heads."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Olly and Kerubiel are in the section of the med bay were Olivar, Pallius, Atlas, and Cedric are. The ones who are wounded Cedric is fussing over. Ramiel, taking a break from Chaplain training is quietly speaking with Olivar about something.

Jophiel is happily bouncing from person to person, while Catius is working on some paperwork- occasionally talking to the others about this and that.

Claude is helping Cedric- by carrying some medical supplies from the closet to where he needs them put down. Olly drifts over and watches the situation with a small smile on his face.

Atlas and Catius look over at him, "Something on your mind Olly?"

"Huh?" Olly murmurs, "Oh, just have a message to give to Cedric from an Apprentice Apothecary Algret of the space wolves."

Cedric's face shifts a little and he sets down whatever it was that he was holding and came over to Olly. "What did he do?"

"Uh, he says that 'we're even now.'" Olly says to Cedric.

Cedric's face darkens, "Olly. What. Did. He. Do?"

"Him and a friend pushed me into some mud." Olly says, "And dumped a bucket of disgusting smelling goo that hardened and stank. It took me hours to clean my armor of the stench and mud."

"That bastard." Cedric hisses upset.

"Ced," Olly says gently reaching out to try and calm his sometimes over protective brother cousin, "No really harm occurred. I just wanted to let you and everyone else know. Just in case he decides to escalate his behavior."

"What did the others say when you were covered in mud and stench?" Atlas asks.

"Oh well- the space wolves had planned a head and sent a message saying that I had tripped into something." Olly says. "The Sargent is apart of their Renegade war band. So... Even though I have video proof that it wasn't me being clumsy. You know how First Borns tend to react to their Scouts being 'harmless pranksters' to primaris."

"... Have you told anyone else besides us?" Catius asks.

"Just Khopesh, when he asked why I wanted lessons on intimidation." Olly says, "So- I'm working on not being such an... easy target. Sorry about that guys."

Olly knows he can cause his brothers a lot of stress, and he tries not to. He looks down and scuffs his foot on the ground a little self consciously. Not noticing the expressions on the others faces.

"They lied to a superior officer?" Claude asks, as a clarifying question, a frown on his face.

"Yeah," Olly says, "And they wouldn't let me up until I repeated their words back to them. The mud was... they had prepared that involuntary mud bath ahead of time for it to... be as effective as it was."

Cedric growls a little and his hands clench into fists. Olly gives Cedric a hug, that just so happens to also potential restrain his temperamental brother-cousin.

"No permanent damage happened." Olly informs him, informs all of them.

"Cowards," Jophiel says with an angry hiss, "They didn't go after the one that had smacked them around, I'm surprised they didn't go after me or one of the smaller of us."

"The rest of you are either too intimidating, have psyker powers. too wounded, or too loveable," Olly says in a no nonsense tone, he gestures to the ones with special powers, the ones who are more intimidating (and they know who they are), same with those who are still wounded, and the ones who are easily lovable.

He's not jealous, its fact, some brothers and cousins are far more palatable, far more lovable, and easy to love. While others are less lovable, less palatable.

Part of him wondered if he was a Pariah, or hand the genes, even if just a little bit. But- if he did then he'd have had the training for it, or would have been culled. At least he thinks that is what the Magos on Trainers would do.

But no, he's not special, not like how his brothers and cousins are special. The psyker and non psyker ones. They are so clever, so witty, so strong, and only will grow more so as they get older.

He'll just continue to fall behind and stagger like a clumsy ox after them and try not to drag them down. Try not to be too much of a burden.

"Oh- yeah they are Space wolves, didn't want to go after the 'witches' in case you gave them 'witch cooties' or curse them or other such nonsense, I think." Olly says rolling his eyes, "And they... likely thought it dishonorable to go after the wounded. And I was ... in a place for them to grab. So."

Olly shrugs, he's unfortunately used to be used as a 'messenger' of that kind of nature for his brothers and cousins. And as much as it sucks, at least it's him and not one of the others.

It's something he can do as a way to shield the others from... stuff and things. Especially since all of them do so much to help him. Why not return the favor? Besides, even if those First Borns had hurt him, Pain is temporary and it would heal up quickly.

"I've had bullies use me to send messages to others that had a lot worse than being stuck in mud for a bit." Olly says as a reminder, "So really. I'm fine. Cedric. Everyone. And since Algret and his buddy say that 'we're even now' going after him would only... escalate the situation."

"Have you told Captain Ash'val or one of the others?" Claude asks.

"No, why?" Olly asks, "such squabbles between Scouts are to be kept between Scouts. Besides, the First Borns will most likely side with the First Born Scouts, and then I would have to do punishment for being a 'whiny little bitch' who doesn't know his place."

"Who told you that?" Cedric growls.

"Who told me what?" Olly asks.

"Don't play dumb, what you just said," Cedric grounds out.

"Oh, some asshole back in M42," Olly says, "He's not here, so it doesn't matter."

"Olly..." Catius says coming over and giving his brother a hug.

"It's in the past," Olly says simply with a shrug, happily leaning into Catius's hug while he still has his arms around Cedric as he gives big ol' 'please calm down' puppy eyes to Cedric.

It's sometimes really effective. Sometimes it just makes Cedric huff, puff, and even more protectively growly. "Perhaps talking to Captain Ash'val or one of the others might be a good idea. Or big Burders Arnault and Roland."

"Why?" Says Olly tilting his head a little, "the one that got bullied was me. Not you or one of the others they care about. So they won't give a shit."

"Olly!" Jophiel says with gasp.

"What?" Olly says with a confused blink and a head tilt. "The first borns care about you- and the others. Therefor it would upset them if you or the others were the ones that were bullied. But it's me. They don't know me. Not really. so they won't care. It's fine. It make sense."

Olly says with a shrug, "I'm an acquired taste, and most tend to not like me for being, well me. It's fine."

"... Olly." Ramiel says his voice wobbling a little.

"Oh fuck," Olly says, "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"... Yes you did." Catius and Atlas say at the same time.

"Why do you think they wouldn't care?" Cedric asks, a complicated expression on his face.

"Because Roland and Arnault are Black Templars- of course they, understandably, prioritize you- and the other Black Templars over the rest of us." Olly starts, "of course the first born brothers and cousins that have bonded to the other primaris marines more care about them. But I'm just... in the back ground. Tied to you lot tangentially. They don't care about me personally, and that's fine."

"There is no way that they care about me, in any capacity, I haven't got the endearing kind of personality type," He shifts a little, stating all of this very matter of factly, he believes every word he's saying, "Besides- it's great that you all have found such people to help and protect you. I can manage. I have before, I will now. It's easier on Ancient Terra, not as many bastards to have to deal with. I know how annoying and difficult to deal with. I just have one of those easy to bully faces and personalities. Haha."

He's always been rather good at that- getting the ire of others directed onto him and off of the others. It's so hard trying to be good, to not be frustrating or hard to work with.

It's like everyone was given certain socialization lessons and he'd missed those classes somehow. And like everyone else was using a secret set of social rules that they all knew about, but no one would really explain them to him.

All that would happen is he'd get punished for unknowingly breaking those rules and punished for doing something when he had thought it seemed like a reasonable action. When he said or did something that someone else had done, but while they were able to do it, he was scolded for it.

That reminds him of one time, when he'd been a lot younger, back on Mars. When they were doing 'free play' sessions and Olly had asked one of their brother cousins if they wanted to play. The cousin had said that he wanted to play with him later. So he'd went away and had come back to ask that brother cousin a couple of hours later if they wanted to play.

Then that brother cousin had yelled at him, saying that Olly was being rude and that he'd already said that he hadn't wanted to play with Olly and that Olly was being rude.

Much to Olly's horror he'd started to cry a little and had tearfully explained that this was later, that he'd agreed to play with him later and later was now.

That same cousin continued to yell and scold that he didn't actually want to play with Olly at all, But he was merely being polite. That he should just go away. That Olly was far to annoying and intense. To just shut up and go away.

Superior officers didn't like questions, even when Olly wasn't trying to be rude. He just ... didn't understand the assignment he'd been given. That the training he had been given wasn't enough.

He wasn't trying to be rude or question there authority. He just ... wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. So no, he wasn't going to pester the older brothers here.

He was far too annoying. Far to difficult to handle for most. To be honest, he doesn't know why Cedric and the others put up with him when he can be way too much.

At least they are nicer about it and say "Olly shush!" at times. Which is helpful, and lets him know when he's being too talkative or is saying something that could potentially offend someone else or something.

[egrets-not-regrets]

What a lovely trip for those three! Also love that you included the “oh god so many zucchinis” bit of info. I love it. And that’s so sweet that Olivar wanted to commission Angela to make a blanket for Pallius.

And Olivar shorting out because he gets a gentle touch from Angela and getting gently bullied by his brothers is so cute. 🥰

Introductions

Author’s Note: This is the next part of Cedric’s adventures in the Husbandry AU! A big thanks to @kit-williams for allowing me to borrow her ocs Arnault, Roland, Angela and Backerin! Masterlist here

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@c-u-c-koo-4-40k

Warnings: Mentions of Petras and his bullshit, please ask me to tag something if I missed it/somethign bothers you

Summary: Cedric introduces Pallius and Olivar to Roland, Arnault and their bonded humans. 

“Olivar, Pallius how are you doing today?” Cedri asked curiously as he watched how two still-healing Brothers carefully stretch and limber up for the low-intensity physical training class that they were going to be participating in later today.

“... Pretty good. Why? Are they going to torment us with some other kinds of boring, basic exercises while not letting us outside of the base?” Olivar grumbled, a surly frown appearing on his face as he slowly eased himself through the leg stretches that he’d been ordered to use. Why the micromanaging bastards thought all of this was necessary when he’d been left to tend punishment-inflicted wounds on his own before, and had managed well enough on his own, thank you very much… The young Black Templar did not know. On the other hand, Cedric did say that his wounds had killed him in M42. 

“Are they concerned that Ancient Terra is so perilous that we need to be at our absolute best, when outside of the base? I know the legends say that cruel and mad sorcerer-kings fought over dominion of HOly Terra for years uncounted before He smote them  and the false idols they worshipped as Gods… But I thought that had been during The Long Night… Has Humanity already scattered across the stars?” Pallius asked, his blue-brown eyes shining with curiosity and nervousness in equal measure.

Cedric hesitated before answering “THe chief apothecary is limiting your movements in order to ensure that you both are healing correctly. There… As for the dangers of Ancient Holy Terra… The most dangerous threat to us as Astartes are the similarly time-displaced renegade and Heretic Astartes. However their witch-bond connection to the Warp is significantly reduced, and using the Warp for unnatural acts is much harder. In part due to the fact that the Eye of Terror does not exist at this point in time. At this time, only Holy Terra holds Humanity.”

“.. Does that mean that there are only three major ruinous powers at the moment?” Olivar asked, straightening out of his stretch, a curious expression appearing on his face “Why do our hosts -who are allegedly loyalists too, suffer traitors and worse to live?  The heretics could corrupt the mortals of this time. Why would they allow-” Olivar stood up, agitated and worried, starting to pace around “Is that why you’re being so cautious in what you tell us, Cedric? What… what bargains have you made in order to ensure that the supplies and time we are luxuriating in using to heal?”

Cedric blinked, reaching out to try and placate his easily riled brother “There are maybe upwards of five-hundred thousand Astartes total on Ancient and Holy Terra. There are less than ten billion mortals total on Ancient  Terra. Luna and Mars have yet to be colonized… Much less the Jovian shipyards and supporting moon colonies to be built. I have been told that should an all-out war happen between the different Astartes factions, it would only devastate humanity in it’s infancy and sabotage everything we stand for and wish to protect.”

“And what about the heretics and their corrupting natures? Or have the firstborns who run things not told you?” Pallius chimed in, visibly concerned. He had also stopped stretching, the information his brother was telling them was too important not to give his full and undivided attention to.

Cedric sighed “I have been told that there is a treaty in place that goes over those questions and a great many other concerns. Chaos and Witchery in general is much more difficult to use and reach here and now. I’ve been told this repeatedly… And both Claude and Jophiel agree with that, that Witchery is much harder to use.”

“Who else is here, that we know?” Oliver asked curiously, mind racing. He wasn’t sure how much he trusted the information about Witchery, but he could tell that Cedric was telling him the truth as he knew it.

“Alive? Ramiel, Olly, and…” Cedric swallowed hard “Chaplain captain Petras. The Honorable Chaplain leads a small band of Firstborn Brothers and wanders as the God Emperor wills them to. Dead? Malachai and Lestras. THey also arrived on Ancient Terra Badly injured… Unfortunately, they were too injured to survive their wounds, despite best efforts to keep them alive.”

The three of them weren’t the only ones in this training room - there were about a dozen or so injured Firstborn Brother-Cousins in groups of three to six, being monitored by an apothecary or well-trained mortal as they stretched and went about their exercises. The chance that their conversation might be overheard was very high, so the young Apothecary was trying to hint to his fellow Primaris Brothers to choose their words carefully without saying or signing such outright, and potentially get more scrutiny placed on them. Cedric had already been dodging the questions about why and how so many of the primaris Black Templars were arriving on Ancient Terra with the same kinds of injuries and state of near-death.

“Ugh. Of course he is here. Is he as much of a heavy-handed bastard here as he is at home?” Olivar asked with the tact the God-Emperor gave a buzzfly. 

Cedric silently whispered a prayer of protection, grace and patience before answering with as much neutrality as he could conjure in his voice “Olivar… Your bluntness gets you into trouble… Please take care with how you speak.”

Pallisu whacked Olivar on the back of the head lightly at the same time “Olivar! You can’t say that out loud about a chaplain! You’re going to get all of us doing penitent punishment for weeks, if not longer.”

“I want my question answered!” Olivar pouted, glaring up at both of them “And you both know I”m right about him.”

“... I haven’t had the opportunity to interact with him directly yet. I haven’t been on Ancient Terra for very long, and he rarely visits this base.” Cedric hedged before changing the subject “However there are a couple of firstborn Brothers who live here in town. I like and respect them both quite a bit.”

“... Like you respect Apothecary Xonfreid… Or like us and Ramel?” Pallisu asked, covering his mouth with one hand as he asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper. Uncertain hope flickered across his face.

“Hrmph. Just who are these Older Brothers? Why do they stay in one place?” Olivar huffed, not wanting to get his hopes up.

“Battle Brother Roland Lichtner is bonded to Miss Becky, who is very nice. She makes baked goods for a living. Do you remember the brot that I shared with you two last week?” Cedric began, suppressing a mischievous grin with difficulty. 

“That was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten. Of course I remember the bread.” Olivar answered, wistful “I want more…”

“Yeah, the taste! The texture! It was almost overwhelming in a good way. You called it sourdough?” Pallius answered, grinning.

“Miss Becky made that loaf of sourdough herself.” Cedric revealed. “As for the other Older Brother… He is bonded to Miss Angela. She’s a quiltmaker and I think a seamstress as well? Do you remember that weighted quilt that I brought over for us to huddle together under during the thunderstorm yesterday?”

“Yeah.” Pallius answered quietly.

Olivar nodded silently, shuddering a little at the memory of the horrible sounds that the thunder had made. “Wait… The renowned sniper, Roland Lichtner?”

Pallius’ eyes widened. He had been undergoing training in M42 as a Sniper -while Glorious Melee was best, he had a steady aim and a good eye - and besides. The Cowardly Xenos and bastard Heretics used long-range, and so a certain number of Brothers were chosen to learn to use similar but sanctified weapons in order to pick them off before they downed their melee brothers. “He… He lives here?” He saw the other as an exemplar of what it was to be a Black Templar Sniper. 

“He does! In the town, not specifically on base.” Cedric explained, a grin on his face, watching Pallius’ eyes light up with awe and delight.

“You mentioned a second Firstborn Brother? And his… Bonded? What do you mean by bonded?” Olivar asked curiously.

Cedric quickly explains what he understands of Bonding, before revealing “Miss Angela is bonded to Brother Arnault Wach. She’s the one who made that lovely quilt.”

“As… As in Emperor’s Champion Arnault Wach?” Olivar asked, his voice a startled squeak.

Cedric nodded, still grinning “Do you want to meet them? I’ve been given permission to take the two of you off base and to meet brothers Roland und Arnault and their bonded?”

“... Today? Now-ish?” Olivar asked, voice still shaky, eyes wide.

Cedric nodded “We’d have to walk over to where they are, but ja. I was thinking we’d go to the Bakery first, talk to bruder Roland und his Bonded, get something to eat - don’t worry, I have enough local currency for the three of us and then head over to Bruder Arnault’s und his Bonded’s home.” He looked them both other “Unless you’re not feeling up to it? They want to meet you. Oh! We’re not supposed to tell Brother Arnault he’s an Emperor’s Champion, as he was pulled from a time before he became one.”

“Oh… That makes sense.” Pallius hummed, nodding a little. “I’d like to shower first, and change into the nicer set of civilian clothes that were given to me, but otherwise I’m ready to meet them.”

Olivar nodded “I would like a bit of time to prepare, but I am ready to face - er. Meet them today as well.”

Cedric nodded, smiling a little. He’d asked Ramiel if he wanted to come on this trip too, but the young Judicar was busy with training today. “Alright. Meet you at the front desk in an hour?”

The other two Primaris Black Templars agreed, before heading off to their assigned rooms to get clean and changed.

~

It was a pleasantly sunny day, and Cedric was unsurprised to find that the bakery had a line of eager and hungry mortals waiting to purchase their baked goods that stretched out of the door. He gestured for Pallius and Olivar to join him at the back of the line, humming a little to himself.

Thankfully, despite the length of the line, it moved swiftly, and soon the three Primaris Marines found themselves within the charmingly decorated and mouth-wateringly delicious smelling shop. Many of the baked goods had been sold out, but what was remaining still looked and smelled amazing.

The mortal behind the payment counter spotted the three of them and briefly headed into the back of the shop, followed back into the main room by Roland, who smiled a little as he spotted Cedric, his gaze looking over the other two Pimaris Marines curiously. He walked over to the three of them and murmured “Hallo Cedric Are these two Olivar und Pallius?”

Cedric nodded, beaming as he gently laid a hand on the slightly shaking Pallius’ shoulder “Ja! This is Pallius.” he paused for a moment before nudging Olivar “Und this is Olivar.”

Neither one of his fellow Primaris Brothers spoke for several seconds, their eyes wide, their breathing fast and shallow. Cedric silently nudged both of them and Pallius spoke up first “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. Cedric had us try some of the sourdough that is made and sold here. It’s very good.”

Roland’s eyes lit up “A fellow bread lover! Ja, mein beloved’s broten has no equal in this or any other world! Come, follow me, the three of you. She has been just as curious about the two of you as I have been. She is busily working away, kneading.”

“Yessir.” Olivar and Pallius answered at the same time, dutifully following after the Older Brother. 

Cedric grinned as he followed them as well, calling out as soon as they were close “Hallo miss Becky!”

The short human woman set down the bag of flour that she’d been carrying and rushed over, hugging him as best as she could manage “Hello, Cedric! Are these your newly arrived brothers?”

Cedric nodded, beaming “Ja! This is Pallius und this is Olivar.” He explained, gesturing to his brothers in turn, gently hugging her back. 

She let him go and went up on her tiptoes, peering up at the two newcomers “You two certainly do look like Cedric’s brothers. Come closer, please. I promise not to bite.”

“Careful, my love. They are both injured from whatever they’d been up to before they arrived here on Terra. I believe that Pallius has fractured ribs, und the reason why Olivar is holding his left arm like that is because of broken bones as well.” Roland hummed, staring directly at Cedric as he said that.

Cedric could hear the silent question in the older Black Templar’s voice, but he needed to talk privately with his fellow Primaris marines before they decided what it was they were going to tell the others here. “They are well enough to take short trips out of the base, though.”

Olivar was the first to move closer to the mortal woman, both guarded and curious “Hallo miss Becky. Your sourdough is very tasty. What are those pale lumps of matter you were squishing when we came in?”

She gave him a quick side hug before taking a half-step back “That’s called a dough… Olivar, is it?” Miss Becky gives a quick explanation as to what dough is, and the process of turning dough into bread, a slight blush appearing on her face as she finished with a quiet “Ah… My apologies. You probably didn’t want that much information about such things…”

Pallius looked genuinely fascinated, and Olivar had drifted over to one of the lumps of dough, a focused expression on his face.

“Please don’t say that! I was finding your lecture to be both interesting and quite informative! We weren’t taught how to make food like this - basic foraging, yes. But nothing so technical.” Pallius answered, blue-brown eyes shining with fascination. 

“So you just.. Squish the bread? Und it makes it stronger and tastier?” Olivar clarified, looking very much like he was seconds away from poking one of the lumps of dough sitting out on the counter with a finger.

“If you want to help knead the dough, you must first wash your hands und ask.” Roland drawled, walking over and lightly nudging Olivar over to the sink “Would you mind if the ducklings helped us for a little while?”

“Not in the least! Their help would be quite timely, given the massive line of people we have out of the door, and the dough that requires kneading.” Miss Becky answers with a sigh “If you three are willing to help, of course. If you don’t want to, I won’t insist.”

“But we want to help.” Cedric, Pallius and Olivar answered at the same time, turning to peer hopefully down at the mortal baker. 

Cedric paused for a moment before saying “I can show them how to use not too much of their strength, and cause the dough to tear - und how to mold it into two pieces, if it does accidentally tear.”

Miss Becky beamed and nodded “Thanks, Cedric! You’re a lifesaver. Now I’ve got to get these croissants in the oven.” One of the timers went off, startling Olivar and Pallius with the loudness.

Roland went over to the oven and pulled out several very hot loaves of bread, setting them carefully on the cooling rack “I will help with that, mein schatz.” 

Cedric gestured for Pallius and Olviar to join him at the sink, showing them how to properly wash their hands in order to get ready for kneading the dough. He showed them the proper technique, letting them get a feel for the strength required for the repetitive task, and what they were looking for, for when the bread was ready to be baked.

Both Olivar and Pallius listened and watched carefully, doing their best to mimic what he was doing.

Miss Becky had been kind enough to give them a loaf of freshly cooled banana bread for the three of them to share, after the couple of hours they had spent kneading loaf after loaf of bread into being ready to be cooked, cooled and sold. 

Cedric had texted Arnault as the three of them were leaving the bakery on the communication device he’d been given [We are on our way. Do I need to to give you some more time?]

Cedric was well aware of the fact that Arnault loved his bonded very much, and enjoyed flirting with and touching her whenever he could get away with it. Sometimes that would escalate and Arnault would steal away his bonded to kiss and do… Things with her that the young Apothecary had only heard of in theory and did not want to think about in depth in conjunction with his honored elder brother, thank you very much. Also Arnault had asked him to text before hand for those kinds of reasons.

[Mein Engel and I are ready for guests. She is finishing up a project for a client, und I am helping her by holding up the last part of what needs sewing together. The front door is unlocked, just knock before coming in.] Arnault answered promptly.

Cedric nodded to himself on instinct as he sent back [Understood. We should be there in twenty minutes or so.]

~

Cedric led Olivar and Pallius to Arnault’s and Angela’s home, pausing at the front door, realizing that both of them were standing and staring at the house from the sidewalk. He sighed silently and walked back over to his brothers, voice gentle and coaxing “We’re nearly there. He’s a wonderful big brother, I promise.”

“He… He’s an Emperor’s Champion… Well, will be, from his standpoint. Are… Are we worthy to be in his presence?” Pallius asked, uncertainty causing his voice to shake a little.

Olivar shuffled alongside Pallius, unwilling to voice his own concerns, but nodding along to what Pallius said.

Cedric took in a deep breath and gently held one of Olivar’s and Pallius’ hands, squeezing gently, and answered “We are worthy. Each of us is as valuable as a firstborn brother of our rank and standing. He’s looking forward to meeting you, as is his bonded. I wouldn’t ask you to meet someone who I don’t trust while you’re still healing.”

“... Okay. Let’s do this, then.” Olivar answered, a determined expression appearing on his face as he took in a deep breath and did his best to center himself.

Pallius nodded, taking a couple of moments to center himself as well before saying “Okay… I’m ready. Let’s… Let’s go meet them, then.”

Cedric nodded, smiling encouragingly at his brothers as he led them over to the front door, knocking and then entering as he’d been asked. He informed the other two “It’s considered rude to walk around in their home walking in the shoes that we were walking around outside in. Outside shoes go in this bin over here, and there are guest slippers here, unless you want to walk around barefoot, or in your socks, both of which are acceptable as well.” he took off his own shoes and put them away properly, content to meander about the house in his socks.

Pallius and Olivar obediently took off their shoes and placed them in the correct bin. Neither elected to take a pair of the astartes-sized guest slippers and Olivar also took off his socks, pairing them and placing them in his shoes, so that they wouldn’t get lost. 

Cedric called out “We’re here!” loud enough so that his voice would carry throughout the house, while also not being too loud so as to accidentally cause alarm.

“Come on in!” Miss Angela called out, closer than he’d anticipated her voice to sound “Arnault and I are in the living room, finishing up a project. Please don’t step on the fabric, when you come into the room.”

“Yes ma’am.” Cedric responded, smiling a little as he carefully led his brothers into the living room, carefully picking his way over to where she was sitting and sewing - Arnault carefully holding onto the fabric she was stitching together in order to help keep it steady. “This is Pallius - he’s the one with the slightly darker eyes and hair - and this is Olivar. He’s shorter and -”

“I am less than five inches shorter than the both of you!” Olivar sulked, sending a grumpy pout Cedric’s way “I am well within standard parameters. The fact that I am more compact only means that I can move in more cramped areas better than you two.”

“- grumpy.” Cedric finished with a teasing grin on his face.

“I’d offer you boys some tea, but I’m a little busy at the moment, and so is Arni.” Angela responded, looking up from her work and looking at the three of them. “Goodness! Look how lovely you all are. And there’s no shame in being shorter than others, Olivar. Don’t let the talls bully you! You’re wonderful just the way you are.”

Olivar - who had started to wind up at Cedric’s gentle teasing - deflated a little, blinking in utter shock and mild surprise, struck silent by her words.

Pallius blinked twice and took a half-step forward to cover his Brother’s shock “I’m sure Vie will thank you for your words once he finds his tongue again. None of us have much experience interacting with baselines, and Olivar is not great at making first impressions.”

“Hey! I am… Adequate at socialization!” Olivar pouted, content to be half-hidden behind his larger brothers. He was trying not to be overwhelmed and mostly succeeding. 

“Ja, of course you are, Vie.” Cedric hummed, gently patting his grumpy brother a little, trying to suppress the grin that threatened to appear on his face. “I could start the electric kettle, if you wanted?” He offered.

“That would be lovely, thank you Cedric. It’s in it’s usual spot in the kitchen.” Miss Angela answered with a smile. She then looked to Olivar and Pallius “Please, come sit down, there are a couple of chairs not buried under fabric you can use.”

“Yes ma’am.” Pallius murmured, carefully moving so as to not disturb the fabric in the room.

Olivar fidgeted a little. One of his legs was still on the mend and he had a slim cast that fit under the clothes he was wearing. He wasn’t sure if he had the dexterity to make it across the room without stumbling over the fabric and didn’t want to get into trouble, so he stayed at the entrance of the room. He did lean against the door frame on his good leg. “If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’ll stay here.”

“If you’re sure… There are a couple of chairs free…” Miss Angela pointed out.

“I don’t mind standing, ma’am.” Olivar answered, which was a partial truth.

Arnault hummed a little “There is a sturdy enough folding chair in the closet in the hallway you walked through. Sit, lad. I can smell the pain you’re in from your broken leg.”

Angela gasped a little, a worried frown on her face “You walked all the way here on a broken leg without crutches? Honey, do we have any astartes-grade painkiller? You must be so sore, you poor dear. Hang on, let me move some of this fabric out of the way, so you can sit properly.”

“I… Uhm. I’ll be fine, ma’am. I don’t want to interrupt your work.” Olivar deflected awkwardly.

“Nonsense! It’s easier if the quilt is all laid out like this, but it isn’t strictly necessary. Arni, love, help me move things?” Angela tutted, shaking her head a little.

Arnault nodded, knowing how and where to move the fabric to, before giving Olivar a quick once over and a quiet order “Come here and sit down, Olivar.” He made sure that his voice was gentle, but firm, to brook no argument from foolish apprentices. 

“Yes sir.” Olivar responds, obediently reacting to the tone of command, doing his best to move as carefully as he could manage, sitting down on the far edge of the couch. Some of the pain leaving him, as he was able to get his weight off of his injured leg. “What is it that you are making?” Olivar asked, curiously as he looked at the fabric around him. It looked to be deliberately and expertly stitched together, some of it dyed different colors in a lovely pattern.

Miss Angela grinned as she briefly looked to Arnault before answering “I am making a weighted quilt. I recently finished making one, and this one should be finished by the end of the month. What do you two think of this one?”

Pallius answered first and earnestly “I think your client is very lucky to receive this uilt. I can tell this is expertly made, and the quality is so much better than the thin blankets we were allotted aboard The Sigismund.”

Olivar nodded in agreement “I can’t imagine the time and effect that you put into making this. It is a beautiful piece of art, ma’am.”

Miss Angela seemed to lose the ability to speak for several seconds, blinking rapidly before setting down the needle and finely spun thread and reached out to gently cup one of Olivar’s cheeks “That is such a sweet thing to say, both of you, thank you.”

“Yeah… Cedric’s so lucky to have one of these…” Pallius sighed “It was so comfortable to snuggle together, during the thunderstorm yesterday. Olivar and I were still pretty out of it and…”

“The thunder reminded us of artillery fire in the worst ways. Bad memories and heavy pain killers are an awful combination.” Olivar grumbled, pouting a little though he leaned into her gentle touch, trying to blink back treacherous tears that threatened to fall. He’d never been touched this gently by someone who wasn’t a Brother or a Cousin before and he had no idea how to react. He had no idea how much a quilt like the one Cedric had cost, but he planned on getting money and the supplies necessary to create such a thing and ask Miss Angela to make one for him. Cedric would probably know what to get and how much it cost. Ramiel too, as both of them had those wonderful quilts. He planned on asking for one for Pallius first, as a surprise gift for his only surviving squadmate. 

Cedric came back into the room with one mortal sized mug and four astartes sized mugs in his hands, along with several bright orange fruits that smelled sweet. “I’ve got drinks and a snack for everyone.” He passed both the fruits and the mugs around,c careful to avoid stepping on the fabric. 

Pallius curiously inspected the orange fruit that he’d been given. It had bright, smooth skin and smelled faintly sweet and floral. He didn’t recognize it at all “What is this?” He asked curiously as he brought the fruit up to his lips and carefully took a small bite.

“These are persimmons. They should taste sweet and have a slight drying effect on the tongue.” Arnault explained, an amused smirk appearing on the older Black Templar’s face as he took a bite of the fruit.

Olivar was put off by the slightly grainy texture of the flesh of the fruit, and the flavor was odd to him as well. But everyone else seemed to be enjoying their fruit and he wasn’t one to turn down food when it was offered to him freely, so he quickly ate the rest of the persimmon, washing down the taste and texture with the tannic-tasting tea. It was amazing to learn just how much variety of foods there was on ancient and holy Terra… And overwhelming to the young Astartes, who was used to the carefully created and bland tasting nutrient pastes, ration bars and similar such food-stuffs that were made to sustain the Adeptus Astartes. 

“Is the persimmon not to your liking, Olivar?” Miss angela asked, sounding concerned.

Olivar blanked in surprise. He’d tried to keep his mild distaste for the strange fruit from being obvious. “It’s… Very different from what I’m used to, ma’am. But I did finish it.” Olivar answered, resisting the temptation to fidget with the mug in his hands. 

“Persimmons can be an acquired taste. I was given these by a neighbor who has a persimmon tree that is fruiting heavily this year. I’ve also seen the start of the Zucchini Shenanigans season earlier this week.” Angela hummed, smiling a little.

“I will be on guard, to ensure that we are not ambushed by too many squash. THey are tasty, but too many at once to eat before they spoil is… Vexing.” Arnault rumbled shaking his head a little.

Pallius silently wondered what the two of them were referring to. He looked to Olivar silently, who shrugged, equally confused before they both silently looked to Cedric, in hopes that he would offer them some kind of explanation.

“Free, fresh vegetables are always welcome at the base, should you be gifted with more zucchini than you can eat before it goes bad.” The young apothecary offered “Also miss Becky recently taught me how to make zucchini bread, which I find to be quite tasty, though on the sweet side.”

“Was that the soft brown bread with the spices you fed us earlier this week?” Olivar asked curiously, eyes widening in recognition. “You made like… Ten loaves of the stuff and we had to hide them from nosy firstborn brothers while they cooled, so that they could be used in trade.”

“Those were indeed Zucchini bread.” Cedric confirmed with a small grin.

“What did you end up trading that Zucchini bread for, anyways?” Pallius asked curiously, head tilting a little at his apothecary Brother “You mentioned that you’d made them specifically to be used in trade, which is why we hid them from hungry Older Brothers.”

Cedric’s eyes shone brightly with a playful kind of mischief “Something that I wanted and knew I could get with the proper application of sweet tasting breads.”

“I suppose that’s Cedric for “I’m not gonna tell you” then?” Olivar grumbled, pouting a little “Is there a particular reason you won’t tell us? Or are you practicing Secret Keeping?”

Cedric chuckled, his eyes still shining brightly with playful mischief “I’m not telling~! If you need to find out, you will in time.”

“Fine.” Pallius sighed, pouting a little that Cedric wouldn’t tell them but not willing to try and push the issue… At least not in front of the firstborn and his bonded. 

“... Why would you need to practice keeping secrets?” Miss Angela asked curiously, as she had finished eating her persimmon and had gone back to stitching the quilt together.

All three young Astartes looked at one another uncertainly before looking to Brother Arnault. They weren’t quite sure what parts of astartes training they were allowed to speak of, and what was to be kept silent on. 

Arnault chuckled “Basic astartes training leaves many young ones to be quite blunt und direct with their words and methods of speaking. Some missions require a degree of… Hrm. Subtlety and discretion, so we have the young ones practice how to Keep Secrets with low-stakes items and information that they are told to hide for a certain length of time, so that they know how to do so when it matters.”

“Ah, I see. I suppose that makes sense…” Angela hummed, nodding a little. “How long have you two been on Earth?”

“... I’m not sure, ma’am. But not longer than a month or two at most? I was brought to the base pretty badly injured because of… Uhm. Reasons, and I’ve been in recovery after they stitched my wounds closed, ma’am.” Pallius answered, shifting a little “This is the first time I’ve left the base since arriving, actually.”

Olivar nodded “I think I've been here for about three weeks at most? Maybe a month, by the way you figure the days and nights.” It was by unspoken agreement that they were not going to explain precisely how and why they had acquire their grievous wounds - the firstborns had assumed that they’d been nearly killed by Chaos Astartes from the kinds of weapons their wounds had been inflicted by… Which while untrue, was close enough to the truth to be functional. “From what little I have seen of Ter-err Earth, it’s a beautiful world.”

“It can be a beautiful place to live… Though I can’t help but wonder what it’s like to wander the stars, as Arni has occasionally told me he’s done. What’s it like to explore other worlds?” Angela asked, a soft sigh leaving her.

The three Primaris marines glanced at each other before looking to Arnault, unsure how to answer her question, each shifting uncomfortably. While it was possible that some of the many worlds that they had visited during their tenure as Astartes had once been beautiful, most of that beauty had been blasted and perverted into misery and suffering by the enemy they had been sent to fight. 

“We’re not supposed to talk about what we did before we came to Earth, my love.” Arnault reminded her, voice gentle as he gave his Angela a kiss on the lips that caused all three of his baby brothers to fluster and turn away, to give them a bit of privacy, their ears burning bright red. 

Angela kissed him back, a soft hum in her voice “Very well then, I won’t ask more about it. I wouldn’t want to get any of you into trouble for prying into your mysterious pasts.” 

Cedric’s phone chimed, as a reminder went off. He looked at the notification and sighed “Vie, Palli, we need to get going back to base soon, or they’ll start sending out search parties for us and we’ll be grounded for wandering around too long without a check-in.”

Olivar grumbled “Can’t we check in via vox?”

Cedric shook his head “No, we need to check-in in-person, because you and Pallius are injured.”

Pallius sighed and nodded “Very well then. I suppose it makes sense…” He got up and saluted Arnault and Miss Angela on instinct “Thank you for your time, tea and the fruit.” He started to carefully make his way across the floor. 

Olivar also got up and saluted the two of them, hiding the pained wince as his weight was partially on his broken leg once again “Thank you sir, ma’am.” and hobbled out of the room as gracefully as he could manage.

“Alright, you boys stay safe, alright?” Miss Angela answered with a small smile and a nod, leaning a little into Brother Arnault as she spoke.

“Heal well, und try not to get into too much mischief. At least not without me or Roland present.” The Emperor’s Champion hummed, a small smile on his face as he held his Bonded lovingly. 

“Yes sir! We’ll try to stay out of trouble, sir!” Cedric chirped for his brothers, stepping so that he was helping Olivar and Pallius move without it being abundantly obvious. 

Arnault snorted a little “Uh-huh. No fist fighting Chaos Cowards out of armor, Cedric.” 

Cedric pouted a little as Olivar and Pallius looked at him curiously “That was one time, big bruder!”

“Ah-huh.” Arnault answered, still smirking a little as the three apprentices made their way out of his and his beloved’s home.

Cedric helped Pallius and Olivar get back to base, making sure to insist that they sit on  benches that were occasionally near the sidewalk, so that they could give their still-healing bodies a break. He also dutifully recounted his encounter with the Slaaneshi Bastard and his reasoning behind tackling the fucker and duct-taping empty glass jars to his poison-dripping fingertips.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Pallius is okay again! Also he is adorably bonded to Crystal? I believe? That is so lovely! Yeah… everyone’s got questions for Cedric, poor guy.

Incoming Pallius

Author’s Note: This is the third part of a mini-arc in which Cedric will be (trying) to patch up injured Primaris Black Templars as they appear on Ancient and Holy Terra! For other adventures click here and here. First. Previous. Next. Thank you to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for allowing me to borrow Hura and Zariel!

warnings: injuries, blood, surgical procedures, concussion

tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34

Summary: Pallius finds himself... On a planet? That's... Weird as fuck.

Pallius blinked blearily in shock as bright, warm sunshine shone in his swollen eyes. He could smell fresh - if lightly polluted - air on the breeze ruffling his blood-matted hair. He could hear the sounds of worried voices murmur and the rapid beating of multiple mortals’ hearts in their chests. Firm ground pressed against his badly injured and bloodied back. Breathing hurt so, so much, but he kept on doing it. Weight pressed against his chest, so Pallius turned over onto one side with an agonized groan as he coughed wetly. The coppery tang of blood filled his mouth and splattered the black surface he’d been left on.

The last thing he remembered was Chaplain Petras’ harsh words of reprimand as the older marine administered the corporal punishment that he had earned for his audacity to question the orders of the vicious bastard who’d chosen him as a personal punching bag and durable serf… Or should he say, the firstborn astartes who’d chosen to mentor him. He’d been aboard The Sigismund and one of his fellow Primaris Marines - one of the few Apothecaries in training - had sprinted into the room first aid kit in hand and helmet on to hide any unfortunate facial reactions to the miserable state that Pallius had been beaten into by Petras.

Pallius had heard warnings about the firstborn captain’s temper. Had noted the unease in his fellow Primaris Marines when interacting with him, even in groups. He had noticed the unusual numbers of casualties and fatalities that his fellow Primaris Marines had suffered verses their non-primaris Apprentice and Neophyte-designated Black Templars. Along with where and how he and other Primaris had been positioned and provisioned for… As well as the types of missions they were given, versus their non-primaris apprentices and neophyte peers.

It painted a grim pict for his fellow Primaris Marines assigned to the Black Templars. Pallisu was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to survive for much longer and silently mourned the fact that he was going to be just another anonymous number. That he couldn’t warn his brothers, and verify that those rumors about the bastard were true… He silently wondered if the High Marshal would even care, if word of the suffering of his fellow Primaris Marines ever reached his ears, or if the other would turn a blind eye to it.

He startled a little as he felt a small hand touch one of his shoulders. Pallius forced his swollen eyes open as far as they would go, squinting up at the blurry figure of a… A… Blue-haired mortal teenager? He managed to smile weakly up at them as feelings of safety, warmth and affection surged within him at their continued touch.

They spoke rapidly in a language that Pallius did not understand, tears streaming down their face.

Pallius blinked up at them and with a titanic effort of will, he brought up one of his hands - the bones in his fingers broken by the stomping boots of a certain chaplain - and with painstaking care, tried to wipe them away. It felt so very wrong to him, to see this mortal weep and sob. A deep, instinctual part of him wanted very much to cheer this lovely mortal up. To see them smile and laugh. To make sure that they were happy and loved and safe at all times, forever.

Ah. Whoops. His bloody fingers were leaving stains on their pretty face. He hadn’t meant to do that, though the mortal was leaning into his touch a little, which made him smile a little. “Shhh… Shhh… It’s my duty to serve.” He managed to force him to say. His throat ached to say, even those few words and he panted, trying to recover what little breath he had remaining in his lungs.

The pretty mortal leaned into his hand a little more, causing the warmth in his chest to intensify pleasantly. It was taking too much effort for Pallius to keep his eyes open, so he closed them. His everything ached, but the nameless warmth that was starting to spread through his body felt good. His newborn desire to protect and care for this lovely mortal with all that he is, and all he could ever be was staving off his nose-dive into the abyssal darkness that threatened to consume him with every passing moment.

Much heavier footsteps thundered towards him. Ceramite on whatever stone-adjacent surface this black substance was. With tremendous effort and force of will, Pallius heaved himself up into a sitting position and forced his eyes open once more, looking to the source of the ceramite-clad sounds.

FUCK!

Firstborn Astartes were thundering towards him. By their colors and heraldry, they were Salamanders, but apart from his relative certainty that it meant that the mortals around him were safe, it was likely even odds as to whether or not they would have him treated, or gie him the Emperor’s Mercy for his sorry physical state.

The pretty mortal was fussing something fierce, from what he could see of their body posture and their tone of voice. He was startled to hear them speak in a thick accent he did not recognize, in Gothic “More Astartes coming. To help you.”

A wheezed laugh left his lips, quickly dissolving into another series of wet, blood-splattering coughs. Astartes were the Angels of the Imperium, yes. Salamanders were said to be among the most compassionate and kind of all Angels. To mortals. Amongst their cousins, the Dragons had several well-earned reputations, and Pallius was braced for a painful, and likely fiery death. The internal politics of the Astartes were not for mortals to know, and he ran his tongue along his lips, licking the blood off of his teeth before smiling sadly down at them, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice “I… Hear their footsteps.

He really wished he had the rest of his armor on. Or at least his helmet as it would hide his emotional reactions to a degree as the bastard firstborns came to heckle and torment him. With another titanic effort of will, he shifted as the cacophonous sound of  Astartes running got louder and louder, Pallius managed to shift so that a majority of his bulk was shielding the pretty mortal from their view. 

The half-dozen concerned looking Salamanders surrounded him, moments later, and Pallius hated the way that each of them clocked the way he flinched and curled away from their approach. Pallius also hated the way that his treacherous, dying body shuddered continuously now, as he was surrounded on all sides by firstborn marines. He was not afraid. He was not afraid. Astartes could not feel fear, so he bared his teeth as the Salamanders crowded in closer, a low, rumbling growl escaping his split and bleeding lips.

The pretty (his?) mortal began to run their fingers through his hair. They were careful to not touch the places on his head where he was bleeding or swollen. Their scent was stronger and the touch was wonderful.

Tears slid down his face, and he leaned into their gentle touches, a sob leaving him as he closed his eyes once more. It felt so good to be held gently, to be touched as if he was someone to be treasured and cared for, rather than a newly crafted weapon that needed to be beaten and molded into the correct shape for his superiors to use as they saw fit. “I will live. For you. I promise.” Pallius vowed as he leaned into the (his) mortal, feeling gentle darkness swallow his body as Astartes-sized hands dragged him away from them.

If he survived, he would find them. If he died, his spirit would protect theirs until he was swallowed by deamons.

~

Cedric had been rushing from one appointment to the next all morning. He had barely enough time to take a steadying breath before plunging back into caring for the next in a seemingly endless waves of patients, muchless chart all that he had done. 

Today was the start of a local festival celebrating the summer weather, near as Cedric could tell… Which apparently involved pyrotechnics (Bombs, but sparkly and not meant for war or purposeful destruction) imbibing copious amounts of intoxicants and forgetting how to hydrate properly along with forgetting what the symptoms of heat-stroke and sun-sickness were until the afflicted required medical attention. 

If pressed, Cedric could rely on his memory to recount just what precisely he had done to aid those seeking care… Which involved a lot of burn cream, IV hydration therapy and the stitching of fingers and/or toes back onto the stump where they’d been blown off of. Most of his patients today had been baselines, but not all of them. The occasional sheepish Astartes had entered his exam room, in need of medical care.

Ten minutes ago, Hura had walked into the exam room that Cedric had claimed for the day and physically dragged him out of it. The vile chaos bastard had refused to let him go until he’d been forced onto a chair, with fresh and fortified food placed in front of him to eat.

Which he had inhaled as fast as he could without choking. Cedric hadn’t realized how hungry and thirsty he had gotten while tending to the seemingly endless number of patients needing care. After that, as Hura refused to let him leave, Cedric had started to doze off a little in the seat, enjoying the relative peace and quie-

Andrew, one of the mortals who was running the front desk burst into the room, a worried frown on his face, as if Cedric thinking one of the Forbidden Words had summoned  even more trouble to their collective doors. “Sirs, a badly injured and partially unarmored and unarmed astartes suddenly appeared within the city. A squad of Salamanders is closing in on his location, and he’ll be brought here.  Zariel is already scrubbing up for the likely surgeries he’ll require, but is asking for at least one, ideally two more Apothecaries to aid him in tending to the injured marine. The Salamanders were unable to identify which legion or chapter he belonged to, and he passed out on the scene before any of the Salamanders could try and speak with him.”

Cedric stood up, and answered “I am willing and able to help Apothecary Zariel.”

“I will assist as well.” Hura responded, nodding seriously “What is their eta?”

“Five minutes max. The mortals are doing their best to clear a direct path to the clinic but there’s a lot of people between here and where the injured marine landed.” The baseline answered honestly.

“Then we should get going quickly. He’s going into Operating room three, which is fully prepared, yes?” Hura remarked, moving faster at this news. 

Cedric swiftly followed after Hura, hearts leaping into his throat as the baseline human described the injuries that had been inflicted upon the Astartes - along with the black armor of the lower half of armor he was still wearing.

Was this another brother?

~

Three minutes, twenty-seven seconds later and Cedric had his answer. Lying on the operating table, while wavering in and out of consciousness was another of his fellow Primaris Black Templars. 

Another Primaris who had been beaten to death by Petras. One whom Cedric had desperately tried to save in M42 and had failed, due to a lack of supplies, experience, and time. Internally he flinched at the sight of the other Primaris marine, but his hands were stone-steady as he worked on aiding the two older and more experienced Apothecaries in putting his brother back together.

“Don’t use general anesthetic, he’s got a bad concussion, on top of everything else going on with him.” Cedric warned Zariel as the Ultramarine reached for the mask that would give astartes-grade general anesthetics. “Topical, only. Besides, General anesthetics makes Pallius more belligerent and grumpier than he usually is.” Which was saying something, as this particular battle brother was not known for his shining personality and optimistic outlook on life. 

“... So you know this badly injured marine too, Cedric?” Hura asked as he carefully sutured up one of the deeper lightning claw wounds on Pallius’ chest. “Is he also a Primaris Marine?”

“Now is not the time to ask these questions, Hura.” Zariel hummed, voice light but holding a warning as he sent an unreadable to Cedric expression the Death Guard’s way.

The Chaos Astartes’ eyes narrowed a little and he huffed “You have a point. Ah, he is coming around again. Cedric, if you would talk him down?”

Cedric rushed over so that his Brother could see him and only him, hands still working to patch him up “Easy, Palli. We’re in a safe location, I promise. You’re in good hands, and you’re going to get through this. You’ve just gotta let me work and not move around, alright? I can give you some local anesthetic for some of the deeper-”

“No. No pain relievers. You know the rules.” Pallius denied, shaking his head a little, before a quiet whimper left him “Why am I so dizzy?”

“That would be the concussion, Pallius. Try not to move around too much until I’ve got all the holes plugged inside of you. Then I’ll have you transferred to a bed where you can be in a semi-sitting position and you can have a little bit of water.” Cedric explained, hoping that neither of the other Apothecaries was going to comment on what Pallius just said. Surely they had similar rules. Right? Regarding punishments.

Not that… Cedric had told them that Pallius… Nor Lestra nor Olivar had been so badly injured because of punishments that, in his professional medical opinion, had gone on for far too long, and far too intensely. While he was relatively sure he could more or less trust them with most things… This was something that wasn’t just his secret, so he would keep close to his chest unless he and his Brothers could talk freely about what they should tell the firstborns here, if anything. “We’re not in a Black Templar Field Tent, nor medical bay. Just relax and let me help.”

“Oh… Since when were you assigned to Salamanders? Or are we rendezvousing with them on whatever planet this is? And why was I-” Pallius asked.

Oh no. Cedric had a guess as to where this line of questioning was going, and he quickly nipped that in the bud, not wanting Pallius to reveal information to two Firstborn Marines he hadn’t clocked were here that had no idea about Certain Things. He cut Pallius off “Things are a touch complicated, right now. I’ll answer all of your questions once you are fully patched up. I’ve got some help in the form of an Ultramarine Apothecary and a D…” If he said Death Guard, Pallius would Panic hard, doing no one any good whatsoever “Dusk Raider Apothecary. He’s been Temporally displaced.”

“Oh… Okay… Should I stop talking altogether, then? So I don’t distract the three of you?” Pallius asked, voice more subdued.

“No, we need you to stay awake, ideally. Talk about whatever you like. Do you have any hobbies?” Zariel asked “Hobbies being things that you do in your downtime, that aren’t training or sleeping.”

“Uhm… Does praying count?” Pallius asked “I like singing hymns with my brothers. Even if some of them are off-key, ‘s nice. Feels like we’re together and united as one. Even…”

“Even if sometimes you argue or squabble with them?” Hura offered, a small smile on the Chaos Marine’s face “I understand those feelings, young one. Apart from praying, what do you do?”

“Isn’t being off-task Heretical? Least… That’s what he says.” Pallius asks, a sullen note in his voice, blue eyes darkening a little.

“Who says that? He’s wrong, by the way. Doing things that aren’t related to battle, war, or prayer isn’t heretical.” Zariel chimed in. 

By the God-Emperor, Cedric did not want to have to deal with the fallout of where this conversation was going and quickly redirected Pallius. “Palli… Why do you smell like a mortal?”

Pallius, even concussed, did not trust most Firstborn marines even the distance that he could throw them, armored or otherwise and thus took Cedric’s prompting as the unsubtle out it was “Pretty blue haired mortal found me before the ‘manders did. They smelled nice, and their voice was so nice to hear and they make my chest all warm an’ soft. I never did get the whole protectors of the Imperium thing very well. Until I met that mortal… We are created to serve and die so that the civilians like them can live in peace and safety… Wanna protect and provide for them soooo much. Feel the need to go find them now, but I can’t. Legs don’t work.” Pallius sulked as he said those last three words. “You… You’ll make sure I can walk, right? An’ protect the pretty mortal, Ced?”

“I’ll do my best, Pallius. But you’ve got to listen to me, when I tell you to do stuff, or to not do the things I tell you not to. So that you can recover and go talk to that pretty mortal again.” Cedric reminded Pallius, a small grin appearing on his face at how adorably smitten his brother was at so chance an encounter. “Tell me more about them, if you can?” He was about to mention Ramiel… But mentioning Ramiel might bring him to the forefront of Pallius’ mind, and that was a nest of warp-spawn he did not have the ordinance to deal with right now.

Pallius’ whole face lit up with joy and love in a way that Cedric had never seen before on his usually stern and taciturn brother. He rambled about everything he knew about them… Which, admittedly wasn’t much, but he did so over and over again, until he was fully patched up, and transferred to a more comfortable medical cot to recuperate. 

“Oh Cedric…” Hura called out as the younger Apothecary sat down in one of the visitor’s chairs in the room that Pallius was temporarily assigned. “Could we talk privately, please?”

“Not right now. Pallius is a flight risk, and I have to catch up on charting from earlier in the day. My shift ended twenty minutes ago.” Cedric answered. There was. No fucking way he wanted to have any conversation Hura intended on trying to force out of him with the ominous thundercloud of a frown on his face.

“... Fine. But we will be talking. And soon.” The older Apothecary warned.

“... Noted.” Cedric responded. Fuck, he needed to warn the others to stay away from an information seeking Apothecary Hura… and probably Apothecary Zariel as well. Hopefully the chaos of this festival week would drive any unfortunate questions out of their minds and Cedric wouldn’tbe forced to tell half-truths and utter grox-shit to them on the fly. 

Hura harrumphed and left the room, closing the door behind him firmly.

Cedric groaned and slumped in the chair, hiding his face in his hands.

“Did… Did I fuck up?” Pallius asked, voice wavering a little.

“A bit. Not irreparably and things are different here in ways that I will explain to you once your concussion heals. But, to put your mind at ease neither the one who hurt you, nor the one who sent you to him can reach you here. You are safe from that, at least.” Cedric explained with a sigh “You will be able to heal in safety here.”

“... But what did you exchange for that?” Pallius asked, voice still shaking.

“Nothing I’m not willing to trade for. Worry not, Brother dear.” Cedric hummed, gently squeezing the other’s uninjured shoulder. “Sleep. I will keep watch.”

“Alright. I’ll hold you to the promised explanation later.” Pallius grumbled before cloning his eyes and falling asleep.