Decimation

The Rising Sons react to the aftermath of their disasterous campaign against the Necrons, and their exile issued by the Inquisitor Octavianus.

---

Decimation

"What company did we lose?" Mifune asked from his recliner, a young haindmaid fanning him as he sipped his saki. He had switched from ornate plate to ornate robes, but the robes did not hide his powerful physique or his intimidating size. His aide, Iyeda, thought it strange how languid the man could look after recieving such terrible news.

"Date company, Shogun," he said, laying out the scroll before him. It was a list of the dead, one hundred good men and the equipment lost with them, "No survivors."

Mifune peered at the list, a glint in his eye.

"Grievace," he said, though his tone sounded insencere to Iyeda. "We shall need to have words with this Octavian about this," he added thoughtfully.

"Octavianus, my lord."

"Him as well," he drank deeply from his cup before throwing it aside, "but send for the remaining lord-captains first. We need to plan."

---

Ishida Ryuga drank deep from his flask, the bitter drink bringing life to his weary limbs. It had taken all of his ability to get the initiates free from the explosion that rocked Tojo, the ship battered by the atmospheric debris.

Inquisition ships had shown up only hours earlier, and almost immediately began bombarding the planets surface. No doubt many of the necrons had fallen, but so to had many battle-brothers.

Rage burned in his gut. Such cowardice from the Ordo Malleus, striking without warning, and outside their jurisdiction. Ordo Xenos had been sent for, the Inquisition had sent witch hunters instead, mere humans who felt themselves worthy of judging Astartes.

A signal came from the nearest Inquistion ship, and a reedy voice came over the vox.

“May the Emperor forgive them for what they have done, for I shall not.”

And neither shall I, Ishida thought, gripping the hilt of his power sword until his knuckles turned white.

He stalked down the halls of the battle barge.

"Lord Captain! Lord-Captain, what has happened?" a young man came bounding down the corridor, a look of aprehension on his face.

"An injustice Kogoro. They say we have failed the Emperor." he said, leaning against the wall of the corridor, thick fingers twisting the rail he grasped as he unconciously worked his super-human might.

Kogoro turned deathly white. He collapsed to his knees, body shaking.

"Are we to do the honourable thing?" Kogoro asked, the young Initiate's features pinched, hand fumbling for his pistol.

He placed a hand to the boy's head, ruffled his hair. A small laugh escaped him, an alien croak.

"We shall see what these men consider honourable. With luck it will be death on the battlefield, it is not like these dogs to waste our kind needlessly while there are yet enemies to fight."

Kogoro looked up at the Lord-Captain. He had trained the boy, and new the thoughts blazing in his head. They had just gone racing through his own.

"Up boy, we've still work to do," he said, raising the initiate to his feet.

"Battle will not wait on us, or on an old fool's decree. The Emperor yet has enemies in need of a swift death."

He clasped the boy's shoulder and smiled.

---

Five men stood before their Shogun when once there would have been nine. The remaining commanders of the Rising Sons.

One-Eye Takashi of Oda, with his wolf pelt thrown over his shoulder and battle-axe in hand, black hair falling in a wild mane around a scowling face.

Burakumin Kano of Chosokabe, eyes drawn with exhaustion, robes hurriedly drawn over his armour. Usually spotless, he hadn't bathed in days and his stench rankled.

Kirin Jigoro of Hojo, smiling slightly as he eyed the Burakumin's discomfort. He was dressed well, hair carefully combed back into a top knot, warrior robes spotless upon shining armour.

Kojiro Kuga of Shimazu, face blank with grief. He had lost his greatest rival on forsaken Tojo, Musashi Hanzo of Date. Their dueling swords would never meet in the arena ever again. It was only the perk of his ears that told the Shogun he wasn't completely catatonic.

Last and least was Ishida Ryuga of Mori, the swarthy skinned farmer's son. He wore only his armour, no robes, and his Mon was merely chiseled into his armour without decoration.

Mifune's lip curled at the sight of him. Once a peasant always a peasant. He had thought elevation to Lord-Captain would teach the man some pride in his station, instead he carried on like some common scout-seargeant. Shotgun on one hip, sword on the other, he stood with his arms behind his back, showing no conern for the fate of his fallen brothers.

"We've been given a choice brothers," Mifune said from his throne, an old chair in the style of the ancient lords of Yamato. "We've been given the choice to go and fight in a penitent crusade, reclaim our honour and our rights, or face the wrath of the Inquisition." He watched each one, trying to gauge their mood. "We have a choice. A hundred year crusade in the Tiji Sector, or be dubbed traitors."

"No choice at all," One-Eye growled, though a ruthless grin crossed his face.

"We are eighth founding, of noble stock, Sons of the Khan. How dare they treat us like some twentieth founding Ultramarine cast-off!" Jigiro snapped.

"Peace brother," Kano said, his elderly voice soft from exhaustion. He looked to the Shogun. "Our course is plain, we shall do as the Inquisitor demands."

"Is it?" Jigoro hissed, "Are we yelping dogs to do as bid, or Astartes? Let us follow Grimnar's example, and blow this scum out of the air!"

"Heresy!" Kano bellowed, rounding on his brother-marine. "We are not Fenrisian savages, we are men of the Imperium, beholden to Imperial decree!"

"We are lions lead by mules, as is Chosokabe company!" Jigoro reached for the hilt of his sword. Kano did the same.

Before the could do anything Ryuga was between them. His fist cracked against Jigoro's skull, his boot slammed into Kano's foot. They both fell with cries of pain.

"What madness is this, watching Brother-Lords bicker like clan-fueding recruits?" He roared, his drill-instructers voice carrying through the chamber. All the lords straightened slightly, even the Shogun, as instinct took hold, the parade ground drills hammered into them centuries ago returning at the sound of the former sergeant's tone.

"What say you Brother?" the Shogun asked, peering down at Ryuga with an amused smile. "What would you have us do."

Ryuga glanced up at the Shogun, incling his head in respect.

"A crusade is a crusade, it has been too long since we've had one. I've no love for this Octavianus, but his rank is to be respected."

"Indeed," Mifune replied. "Crusade it is."

"Aye."

The Lord-Captains replied in unison, some more heartily then others.

---

Iyeda sighed as the Shogun lay passed out in his bed, too many empty barrels of Fenrisian imported ale scattered around the chamber, and too many naked geisha girls laying across the Chapter Master’s chest. Saliva ran down Mifune’s chin from an open, snoring mouth. Such decadence was untoward of a man of his rank. Iyeda could do little about it but tidy up some of the broken porcelain. They had been priceless relics gifted from the lords of Yamato, used as drinking cups.

A small cough behind him revealed a presence he had felt for some time. A slim handmaid stood in the doorway, robes barely covering her slim body. He eyed her balefully, mouth set in a prudish cast.

“Did you want something? I am no servant. All you’ll get is my fist.”

“Only your time Librarian,”

She spoke in fluent high gothic. Iyeda’s hair stood on end. To his eyes she looked like any common girl of Yamato, skin browned by the sun while working in the field, hair tied back in a tight knot. But he recognized the higher classes of a far flung planet in her accented Gothic.

“What can I do for the Inquisitor?” he asked, bowing slightly.

Her lips curled in a delighted smile. She was exceptionally plain looking, dressed in scribe robes. Not what he expected from a Throne agent.

“I am no Inquisitor, though I work for one, as I’ve been told do you,” she replied, returning the bow.

“Lord Octavianus sends his greetings and his thanks for your diligent work. It would have taken some effort to keep our presence masked until the final moment without your help.”

“It was nothing, I only hope that from the ashes the Sons may Rise even higher.”

He said this while picking up more shattered porcelain. Such a waste of beautiful things, he thought as he tossed it into the trash. When he looked back up the girl was gone, he had not felt her leave. With a heavy sigh he left his lord’s chambers, feet dragging as he went.

Mifune watched him leave through the slit of one eye, glittering with rage.

---

"This should be a fun excursion for the fish." Heihachi said, motioning to the recruits on the shooting range.

Heihachi was drilling the newest batch in how to properly handle a bolter, it was the first time many had handled the weapon. Shots went wild all over the range, destroying targets and gouging out marks in the wall, floor and cieling. Heihachi snarled. A small man, for a marine, but stout, Heihachi was an aged instructor, bald from centuries of service, with long bristling whiskers to make up for his bald plate. His right arm had been cut off at the elbow centuries ago, and a machine replacement that he hated stood in its place. It was currently grasping a long iron rod, ready to crack an initiate over the shoulders should they deserve it.

"My Brother-Captains aren't happy with this change of status quo," Ryuga said, "Jigoro wanted to file an appeal with the Lords of Terra."

Heihachi gave a barking laugh, earning the startled glances of his initiates. The old warrior thumbed his nose.

"A century of crusade would be faster 'en any 'appeal'"

"He's only against crusade because Burakumin is for it," Ryuga snarled.

"Those two should fight or fuck, get it out of their systems."

Heihachi spoke over his shoulder as he stalked over to a recruit. His rod came down hard on the boy's shoulder, smashing the boy to the floor.

"Gaping at your Lord-Captain like a fish, now floundering on the floor like a fish," he snarled, "Stand up and act like a marine!"

"Sorry about that sir," Heihachi said as he stalked back over, "Got to mantain discipline in this distressin' hour."

"Quite alright sergeant,"

He watched the boy climb back to his feet, waving off the assistance of his friends. Ryuga touched his own shoulder in sympathy. Heihachi had done the same thing to Ryuga centuries ago. Its a pain that wasn't soon forgotten.

"This is the lowest our chapter has ever been," he said quietly, "Hachi, make sure these boys are the greatest our chapter will ever produce."

Heihachi eyed Ryoga strangely. Then he snorted, and slapped the Captain's arm.

"Well they can't be as bad as you."

---

Mifune smiled at the Inquisitor as one of his handmaids poured him a drink. To the common eye Octavianus looked like a frail old man, face withdrawn from regret, a thousand lifetimes of burdens weighing on those all too human shoulders. He leaned forward, fingers steepled.

"It is good to have a member of your Order here in Yamato Inquisitor," he said as the man drank from the cup. "And even better to have him onboard my personal barge. Do you find 'The Muken' to your taste?"

Octavianus glanced over his saki cup, a faint hint of annoyance in his eyes. At either shoulder a titan of metal stood, a Grey Knight. Either one could kill Mifune, all the more easily due to his being unarmed, unarmoured and unaccompanied by his usual bodyguards.

"It is a tad ostentatious," the old man remarked, eyes flicking toward the scroll paintings that lined the walls, the richly decorated doorways. Every chaamber had been crafted to resemble the lordly palaces of Yamato. The techmarines had worked for years on the conversions.

"I hold no grudge with you sir," Mifune said finally after a pregnant silence. "You were doing what you saw as your duty. Now we shall do ours."

Octavianus swirled the rice wine in his cup, collecting his thoughts.

"You should know you will not be going alone," he said, "Tiji has been left to its own devices for too long, and corruption is becoming a problem. Choas, Necrons, Tyranids, incompetents. The Inquisition is here now, and things shall be put to order. In the mean time dispatches have been sent out, armies are gathering to join the crusade. I have visited one dishonour on your chapter, let me do the opposite now. You and your men will be given the honour of spearing this campaign." He drained the last of the liquid in a single gulp. "I am honouring you, Lord Mifune, with command of the vanguard."

---

The Penitent Crusade had begun, a badly battered Chapter cast into shame is sent out into the void to reclaim its honour. A hundred years of exile, a hundred years of strife and blood.

Into the void at the decree of the Inquisition they sail. Three battle barges loaded with warriors, supplies and a righteous zeal to carve out their name in the stars. All in the hopes of one day returning home.

What new allies await them, and what new enemies?

Will this be the beginning of a rebirth for the Rising Sons, or the start of its ignoble demise?