By special request, I'm crossposting this from Spacebattles.
Asmodai...
INTERROGATE?
Our assumptions have been confirmed!
WHAT!
He has a suspicious book!
BOOK!
Is he in Cahoots with the Fallen?
FALLEN!
MAKE HIM REPENT!
REPEEEEEEEENT!!!!!
Well Fuck me Baltimore, I went and wrote this.
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"Asmodai..."
"INTERROGATE!?"
"Uh oh." Will instantly realized that the conversation had taken a turn for the worst, and things had been going so well until a moment ago. One moment she was talking with the newcomers about their past, after helping them deal with a group of stragglers from the Black Crusade that had fled Cadia. But suddenly they had turned hostile when she asked Azrael, their leader, about the waylaid member of their Chapter that one of her past Admirals encountered several centuries before. And now the Grand Master and Chaplain were angry.
Especially the Chaplain.
"Our assumptions have been confirmed!" Azrael shouted.
"WHAT!?"' The Chaplain also shouted.
"She knows of the heretic Cypher!"
"CYPHER!"
"She's a heretic in cahoots with the Fallen!"
"FALLEN!"
"MAKE HER REPENT!"
What the feth does that even mea- Will didn't have a chance to finish the thought, as with a thunderous war-cry of
"REPEEENT!" The Chaplain had charged at her and in an instant, delivered his power maul directly to her face.
The mace didn't even hurt, nor even so much as scratch her. Even that daemonsword that Failmaster Abbadon slashed at her with barely drew blood. And like the sword, It harmlessly bounced off of her, sending its wielder skittering back from the recoil.
"What the Frack?" She demanded, "Why are you-"
Then the members of his retinue started shooting her, with
bolters no less. One shot her with a plasma gun but still, she could tank hits from Lances for Emperor's sake. This? This was just
sad. She flared her Void Shields, sending those closest to her flying away. "I'll ask again," She started, calling on that golden aura that enveloped her and flaring it even more brightly than the shields, "Why do you think I'm a heretic?"
"You're working with Cypher!" Azrael shouted.
"Who?" Will had to resist retaliating at the other Astartes with her point defenses, despite her Fairies' insisting. It said something that her a barrage from even her lightest, weakest ordnance could gut a Battle Barge in one go.
"The Heretic Fallen," he ground out as he drew his power sword and prepared to fight her. "You know of Cypher and his ilk!"
Will didn't have a chance to ask what a Fallen was when she was rudely interrupted by the ball of angry that was Angrydai and his power mace. She caught the broad head of the mace in one hand, the arcane energies the weapon generated dancing across her skin and singing the cuff of her blouse. With a tug she ripped the weapon from the Chaplain's grip. She couldn't see the surprise on the man's face, but she knew it was there before she wiped it off of it with a right hook to his skull-emblazoned helm. The blow was enough to send the Marine flying backward, sailing through the air.
Will dropped the still powered mace, just in time to catch the blade of Azrael's power sword in the same hand. This time she just held onto it, as she made the connection as to what was going on. "That guy I mentioned was a traitor?"
"Yes!"
"Well it's news to me," Will said. "He wasn't covered in blood and skulls and tentacles and ranting about skull gods and blood thrones, so it's an easy mistake to make."
The other Astartes had stopped firing. Whether it was due to a lack of effectiveness on their part or they ran out of bolt shells, she wasn't sure. "That still doesn't absolve you of your crime of knowing-"
"I'm not a traitor!" Will cut him off. "And do you really think you're the only ones that don't have a shameful past?" Will asked, half-shouting. "The only ones who didn't have brothers,
sisters, turn against you!?"
"What-"
"Three, asshole," Will spat. "Three Sisters I fought alongside in the Crusade, whose crews shared battle honors with mine. Three ships of my class that had crews that turned traitor during the Heresy, that I had to go and help put down. By the throne, that fate almost befell me. Half my crew turned on the other half during the Heresy, and the ensuing battle throughout my decks left me with a skeleton crew!
Barely ten thousand able bodies to crew a ship in need of ten times that!" A part of will was telling her to just shut up, but she didn't care. "
Might and
Word had it even worse - between damage and sabotage, they were out of commission for another decade!" Will was shouting now. "It was just me and a few dozen destroyers and cruisers against that bastard's armada and his flagship! A Dozen Battleships!
And a Gloriana! If those of my crew hadn't turned on each other if,
Might and
Word's crew hadn't,
hadn't..." Will trailed off, and was silent for a beat. "I have my shame too."
She was suddenly aware she had been ranting about stuff she probably shouldn't have, to people that didn't care. She also realized she had the room's attention. Asmodai was on his knees, looking at her in awe. Azrael had let go of his own weapon and had stepped away from her, likely equally in awe. But was it awe? Or was it something else?
Will dropped the sword, suddenly sullen, the weapon clattering to the deck. "I... I was failed too," she said. "I'm sorry I said anything. You're not the only one with skeletons in your past. I..." She turned around, numbly walking toward the exit, toward the landing bay. "All of us have them."
Will walked in silence through the halls, back the way she came in. She left the Dark Angel's ship, flying back toward Cadia and the rest of the fleet. Her fleet.
The Angels didn't stop her.
Only after she left did she realize she was still swathed in golden light.
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Well fuck me Baltimore, I went and wrote 1000 words for a shitpost. And filled it with Feels.
