The Shepherd and the Stray
This story, part of the community effort on the Emperor's Nightmare chapter, follows Chief Apothecary Eidelan in an encounter with the Forty-sixth Terminator himself.
Apothecary Eidelan moved through the Battlefield, harvesting Progenoids with grim purpose. Eight Nightmares had been lost this day. A devastating blow. He sighed as Reductor pierced armor and extracted the bulbous organs before dropping them into strengthened glass vials, too much blood had been spilt this day. But two Sleepless had gone to their final rest. Though it was unnecessary, Eidelan lifted the helmets of the Sleepless and marveled. After the constant neurotic movement of their faces, their eyes had now closed, and a peaceful smile lingered on their lips. How did it feel, Eidelan wondered. To be keenly aware of every aspect of life, from the smallest of dust motes to the blazing shine of the sun. His Catalepsean Node had never degraded, much to the envy of many Battle-Brothers. Was that why he spent so much time with the Sleepless? It was true a proper rest cycle for him meant he would never feel the agonies even the regular Brothers faced, with month long rests and monthly activity, but it also meant he would never feel the keen perception the degradation gifted the Chapter with. As a result, he’d decided for himself that if he could not suffer with his Brothers, then Eidelan would devote every waking moment to the most hurt of all. He reverently placed the helmet of the fallen Marines back on before looking for more corpses, more heroes, marking the sites he’d left for Servitors and other Brothers to pick up. He’d hardly gone ten steps when he saw an impossibility. A Terminator armor clad figure, simply standing in the shade with his weapons at his side. Had the legendary, or perhaps more appropriate was infamous, Thureos recovered some measure of sense at last? Carefully, Eidelan made his way near the motionless Marine, telegraphing every movement though Thureos did not react. Eidelan clicked a vox query before forcibly patching in to the Terminator’s channel and fought back a wince.
“-course you are correct Chapter Master. The bloody days arewillnot have passed until the end. I promise you, I will not falter, never surrender to the debased filth that surrounds me.” “Brother?” Eidelan asked, his hand ready on his bolter, ready to jump back and call for help. Thureos stopped speaking, as though he’d noticed Eidelan for the first time, though the Apothecary knew he must have been detected long ago. “Brother, it is I-” “I see you,” Thureos brusquely interrupted as Eidelan’s heart leapt. Finally, a chance to bring the renegade home where he could be helped. “And I find myself disgusted that the Traitor Legions would consider themselves my Brothers,” Thureos growled before lunging with his chainfist. Eidelan swore before dashing back, too slow to avoid the grazing blow as hungry teeth covered by a whirring power field ate through reinforced ceramite as though it were paper. The wound was shallow, but Thureos continued to move impossibly fast, forcing Eidelan to raise his boltgun to gain time. He bought himself three seconds, as Thureos took care to slice through the weapon just before Eidelan could squeeze the trigger. Apparently savoring the moment, instead of merely spearing Eidelan with his chainfist, a gauntlet lifted Eidelan bodily as the Apothecary gasped at the effortless strength Thureos showed.
Acting quickly, Eidelan ripped out a knife, where he’d hoped to stab a vulnerable joint but Thureos’ sharp senses detected the movement punched Eidelan’s breastplate hard enough to crack the Aquila before he found himself thrown back several meters. He worked quickly to stand up, as Battle Brothers finally responded to his distress, firing at the rogue Marine as soon as they were in range. To his credit, instead of simply allowing the hard armor to take the shots, Thureos actually twisted and moved, dodging quite a few bolts, even as all the Nightmare could only gape at the strangely graceful figure. It was as though the Sleepless was unarmored, so quick and unhampered was he by the Terminator Armor’s great weight. Thureos apparent decided not to take his chances with two full squads bearing down, his madness lifting just enough for him to move out of sight. With stealth even seasoned Secundus operatives would have envied, Thureos vanished into the forest as though he were a ghost. Fearless as the Nightmare were, they were not stupid, fully aware that Thureos would only retreat to a better position. The squads held back, keeping their bolters aimed at the treeline. “Are you wounded Apothecary?” thundered a Primus Marine. Eidelan coughed wetly before gritting out, “Ribs…will heal.” Even as he walked back to the waiting Thunderhawk, Eidelan still never turned around, too wary of a possible ambush. ‘One day I will find you Brother. If you will not come home to us, I will grant you the peace you so seek,’ Eidelan promised as he took out an empty vial. This one had already been prelabeled. In elegant script was the name Thureos.