+++ Targinis III - Residential Sector
'Lillian City' - Present date+++
The morning rays of crisp sunlight crept upon the industrial sectors as per natural routine, this morning however would seem to be painted far differently upon the surface of Targinis. The day would not begin in order; many labor machines had been damaged or stolen, the very street itself was fragmented in sporratic spots - a reminder of the patchwork explosives thrown at local law enforcement the eve before, crates of supplies and stations of respective work had been burned or shot to pieces. Work would be lost today, and not just due to the destroyed materials of Imperium substantiality. For many lives had also been lost; not only would less work get accomplished, but the number of casualties among local Guardsmen were catostrophic... people were even LESS safe now in Lillian City. If the Bellicose cultists were to attack again in the evening hours to come... there would be even LESS of a chance of repelling them now.
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An officer of Cadian brandishing peers out the docking bay window of the local Guardsman Barracks within Lillian. As all true Veterans are in nature, so was this one who bore his inner scars of war as if they were literally etched into his exeterior. The fires and screams of war were worn upon him as conspicuously as his medals of valor and the golden bar upon his left breast pocket - "Saul" was the name upon it.
The door to Saul's office slid open patiently and a young Cadian seargent stepped in and saluted his superior... regardless of the fact that Saul did not turn and acknowledge his prescence. At least not with his eyes.
"What is it?"
"Sir, I'm afraid I have some more bad news..." Said the messenger.
"Let me guess..." Saul began with hopeless sarcasm. "Sewer freaks are attacking at random again."
It was Saul's job to oversee the local security of Lillian's working sector. A job that for the first time in his career (even during his career of galactic Imperial warfare), left him in a situation where he did not possess the manpower to stand and protect those in his care. So strange that this incompetance would come at the hands of fanatical, subhuman, untrained maniacs.
"Sir we checked the Armory this morning... a number of partially constructed Ordinance Batteries have been stolen. And...." The seargent swallowed hard before continuing. "And... a handful of the prisoners being held in the military holding cells were... released, sir."
Saul turned at last and faced the young messenged, taking a few steps toward him with a naturally displeased expression on his scarred, worn face.
"I see, seargent. Well, how fortunate for our enemies!" Saul barked at the youth. "What's the matter? Your men forget to lock the damn Armory doors?".
"N-no, sir. A detachment of Guardsmen were stationed there, along with the mechanics. But they were relieved... by one of the Lord Commisars that arrived here earlier this week, sir." Sputtered the messenger.
"What... Commisar... seargent...?!" Saul gritted his teeth and closed his eyes in agitation. His tone was no less threatening than a loaded las pistol aimed at the seargents forehead. No Lord Commissar had been registered for arrival. Lord Commissars were notoriously despised probably the most by their own brothers in arms; one of them arriving in a small sector would have caused considerable commotion. After a few long moments in a dumbfounded silence, the young Guardsmen scratched his head in embarassment.
"Well.... I guess that explains how the um... tanks and... prisoners were... taken, sir." Spoke the shameful seargent. "Shall we phone the big guys in the sky and ask for reinforcements, sir?"
"I doubt it would do any good, seargent. There's no chance they could get here by nightfall. And besides... we can't afford to make ourselves look weak." Saul regained himself from his anger, but hardly lost his demeanor.
"The Imperium is at war with the entire galaxy... and this isn't a war zone. We're on our own, seargent."
Suddenly, an unpleasant voice surprised Saul and his underling from within the still-ajar sliding door or Saul's quarters.
"As it were, Commander, yes - the Imperium has no intention of aiding your ailing planet." A Lord Commissar stepped forward into the room; his attire was almost entirely black, save the few bits of guilded trim and a flowing purple cape upon his back. "The Chapters of the Emperor will encircle this system with their warships and Orbitally bombard Tanaris to dust."
Saul thought twice before speaking his careful words to the Commissar, men such as those give no second thought to cutting down men such as Saul simply to make an example out of him.
"And why would they just do that to us? It would be total overkill with casualties and supply losses, sir!"
The Lord Commissar turned his back to Saul and peered his eyes angrily into that of Saul's companion. "Your planet has been infected by a brand of Chaos they have never seen before. And this is how the Imperium must deal with the Cultist outbreak - they will destroy everything to avoid such a contagion to spread further."
Saul lost his respectful composure. "No! No... That's not going to happen! The Marines can't just do that to us!"
The Commissar turned to Saul again, as the Commander continued.
"Do they just expect us to stay here and just... and just die?! We defended this world, we still defend it!"
There was an unusually long moment of silence between the three Cadians. Saul's eyes were glued to the floor hopelessly contemplating such possibility in the Commissar's words; they were so real... so undeniable - yes, they certainly had to be truthful. If not, doom still loomed close by... so inevitablly close. And in that moment, as Saul thought to himself ever so briefly, 'I'd do anything to get off this planet and survive this...' the Lord Commisar spoke.
"Commander, the Empire has doomed us. It matters not now who we stand with... as long as we can get our forces off of Targinis." The Commissar finally came close enough to Saul for him to read the ledger upon his left breast - 'Bairn.'
"What do you propose, sir?" Saul somberly complied, reposing himself as best he could. "What is it that you require of me?"
The Lord Commissars gaze shifted slightly to one of the corners within Saul's quarters. There was much shadow within, but the darkness stirring within this particular corner became to Saul's human eyes unlike any darkness ever seen before. Saul's mortal ears began to hear strange hums and intangible whispers as he stared into it. It was a tear in the Warp! As soon as this final thought strayed across Saul's mind, the darkness within the corner formed a figure... as the figure came into formation, a frightful voice answered Saul's query.
"We require little more from you than an open mind and the will to survive, Commander."
There he stood before the bewildered Commander - he was Ka'Voth, the Warpspeaker. Saul stood, frozen in terror at the sight of the Slaaneshi Sorcerer, whose voice continued to fill the room.
"We have come here to destroy the foul Nurgle beings in Slaanesh's great name. We do not ask you to aid us in our fight against the Loyalists or against the cultists of Bellicose." A massive Force-Staff appeared in his grip as he continued to speak with conviction. "Your Emperor and his lapdogs have deemed you unworthy of saving, in light of your many years of service, Commander. Your only chance to save yourself and your men is with us. Your only chance of leaving this planet is with us."
"We do not have much time, Saul." Bairn finally began to speak and act as a true Commissar; a bitter expectionist. "It would be in your best interest to accept such a proposal."
Saul drew a deep breath and hung his head shamefully. He had no choice but to forsake his oaths and his Emperor.
"Yes, sir. My men are yours to command, Commissar." Saul agreed.
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