Papa Smurf

8/13/2019 Papa Smurf

1/10

Roboute Guilliman was very tired and sad. His son was dying, and he'd been doing

logistics all night beforehand. Which is why he was both tired and sad. He had also

removed his power armor for some reason, possibly to scratch an itch on his incrediblywell defined lats. But that's not important right now.

"h my son, ! am so sad that you are dying" Guilliman said as he embraced the#ltramarine to his chest. But he said it a very stoic, Roman li$e fashion, not li$e he was

about to cry and get all hysterical or anything, there was %ust enough emotion to show

that a bro$en heart was beating in the chest of this man of stone. &here might have been asingle tear drop running down his face. r it could have been a tric$ of the light. But

either way it was o$ay, because Roboute is so manly he isn't afraid to cry when the

moment demands it.

"()#&!* &!+" said the pace Wolves, as they suddenly sprang their clever

ambush. Well, they loo$ed li$e pace Wolves. But they could have been members of the

-lpha egion ! guess. ! haven't read the boo$ so !'m %ust speculating here. High e/plosive

rounds detonated against Roboute's ridiculous musculature, seriously, the guy loo$ed li$ea Bowfle/ commercial or something. But even with all the crunches he'd been doing, the

bolts still blew chun$s of meat off his torso, because bolters, man. &hey're basicallygrenade launcher machine guns.

uddenly, )aptain 0enris Wolftooth noticed that even though he was having pieces ofhimself shot off, Guilliman wasn't falling down dead.

"1on't worry dudes, ! got this" 0enris Wolftooth said, and he stabbed Guilliman with his

power sword. uch. But Guilliman still didn't fall down. !nstead, he loo$ed into 0enris'seyes.

"!'m ta$ing a moment out of being stoic and manly to mourn my beloved son, and &H!is when you decide to pull this crap2" Guilliman said, his manly beard stubble 3uivering

with half suppressed fury. 4He'd been doing logistics all night, so he hadn't had time to

shave yet.5

"#mm, guys2 6ou shouldn't stop shooting him %ust because ! stabbed him in the chest

and he's tal$ing to me." 0enris Wolftooth answered.

"Boy, ! am about to punch you so hard particles that haven't even been 1!)7R1

6& come out of your corpse" Guilliman told him. &hen he did.

"Huh, that was $ind of awesome." Roboute said, as weird particles flew out of the space

where 0enris Wolftooth had been standing. "! thin$ !'ll do the same thing to the rest of

you, %ust to see if the tenth time is still as awesome as the first."

"Be the mperor's /ecutioners, +alcador said." sighed upus #hbel. "Watch over all

the other 8rimarchs !t'll be an honor, +alcador said"


2/10

"!t annoys me that the last thing !'m going to hear before Roboute Guilliman punches me

into tachyrons is you whining." )archaroth Howling +ad told him. &hen both of them

were dead, due to Rob punching them really, really hard.

- chime alerted him to the arrival of his visitor. Guilliman put aside the one gauntlet he

had unbuc$led and $eyed the high chamber9s public doors to open.

-n #ltramarines sergeant with a red helm entered and saluted. His armour was well:

maintained, but worn from months of toil and warfare. Guilliman could barely ma$e outthe unit insignia. - blade had left a cut down to bare metal across the red visor. n the

right pauldron there was a scouring mar$, undoubtedly the trace of a flamer9s touch.

Guilliman noticed all such miniscule details in one glance. ven from the pace +arine9s

bearing, he could read much. &hiel had always been a confident, almost rec$less warrior,but now he seemed subdued and unsure of himself. &he unremitting intensity of the )alth

war had fused him into a state of constant readiness, a perpetual e/pectation of threat that

even the down:time voyaging bac$ to +acragge had not diminished. &hiel's hand,

subconsciously conditioned, never strayed far from the butt of his clamped weapon, asthough he believed he might be ambushed at any second.

!t was chastening to see a man so changed, so imprisoned by tension.

;6ou9ll $eep the armourers busy bringing that plate bac$ to inspection standard,9Guilliman said, as lightly as he could.

;! trust my service has been worth every scuff and scratch, lord,9 said the sergeant.

Guilliman smiled. He held out his bared right hand. &he warrior hesitated, then too$ it.

;Good to see you, -eonid. Good to see you indeed. )ome, bring me news of )alth, andforget this formality for a moment. #nclasp that helm. !9ll send for wine, or amasec,

perhaps.9

;&here is no need, my lord.'

'&here9s every need, ergeant &hiel. ! want to spend some time in conversation with a

man who has been devotedly practical since ! last saw him. &here9s too much theoreticalhere on +acragge.9

;! have seen plenty of evidence to the contrary, my lord. +acragge was always adefended world, a capital world, but such defences we saw as we came into orbital

space


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;With your permission, my lord, ! brought battle:brothers ! would li$e you to meet with

me.9

;!ndeed29

;&hey served as my s3uad in the #nderworld War these past eight months. ! owe everyone of them my life. !f it9s stories you want, they have plenty to tell, and ! would

appreciate it very much if you honoured them with a little of your time. &hey are loyal

brothers.9

;&hey are with you29

;&hey wait without, in the anteroom, lord.9

;Bring them in, &hiel.9

-t a signal from the sergeant, the other #ltramarines entered= nine battle:brothers, theirblue plate as worn and mar$ed as &hiel9s. #nit insignia and mar$s were virtually illegible

on all of them. &hey all e/hibited the same 3uiet intensity as &hiel, so much that itseemed li$e timidity, as if they were afraid of entering such a bright, lu/urious, peaceful

environment, or afraid at least of disgracing it with their worn, imperfect armour.

Guilliman sighed 3uietly. What appeared to be timidity was %ust hard:wired tension thatmight never unwind. &his was the price the accursed orgar had made his #ltramarines

pay.

He dran$ in the details again, each untold story plain to see= an armour plate slightlydistorted by a melta9s brushing touch> a missing finger, sutured and sealed> a gladius with

the wrong coloured grip that had been ta$en up as a battlefield replacement and forced to

fit the wearer9s scabbard> the poc$mar$s of a too:close call with &empest munitions> theslight twitch of a visor from side to side, hunting for hidden $illers even here in the

#ltramar Residency.

;ach of us was the remainder of a bro$en s3uad,9 said &hiel.

;/pediency brought us together on )alth.9

;et me $now you all,9 said Guilliman. ;it. ose those helms. &ell me your stories, face

to face.9

-w$wardly, the #ltramarines began to do as they had been instructed. &he situation did

not suit them. &wo or three seemed unwilling to sit. *o one removed his helm. Were they

ashamed of their scars2 Were they ashamed to show the +ar$ of )alth2

ne had spaced himself bac$ near the main door, a curious placement that was the

vestige of s3uad discipline in chamber:to:chamber fighting. ne always covers the e/it.

Guilliman regretted bringing them in. He should have handled the meeting differently, in


4/10

one of the s3uad rooms of the 0ortress where they would not have felt so out of place.

Guilliman felt a great measure of pity for them= built for war, and then loc$ed into a

fierce one, they had become unused to the simple habits of society. &hey had mostprobably lived in their armour for the last year, never letting their weapons out of their

hands.

&hey all carried them, bolters and blades, holstered and sheathed. !t was odd to see armed

men from the warfront in the heart of the Residency. &he only weapons openly carried in

the private chambers were those of the )ataphractii escort and the palace guard. ButGuilliman could hardly as$ these weary veterans to chec$ their trusted weapons at a

gatehouse. !t would be li$e as$ing them to surrender something integral, li$e a hand or an

eye. &hese were the instruments they had depended on for their lives during their tour in

)alth9s #nderworld War, they were part of them, e/tensions of themselves, and todeprive them?

- thought occurred.

;6ou lost the sword29 he as$ed.

;ord29 &hiel replied.

;&he blade that ! loaned you at )alth2 &he one from my collection2'

'6es. 6es, sadly that was lost.9

uch a small detail. @ust one among the hundreds of details Guilliman had absorbed in the

last three minutes. !t was so tiny, so insignificant, it ought to be ignored, but the past twoyears had taught him that nothing was too small to ignore. !t was in his nature, the way he

was engineered, to study every single fact available and notice any discrepancy. &o read

the potential of anything, the way a card player reads tells.

;Why do you $eep your face hidden, -eonid29 he as$ed.

;+y lord?9

;What $ind of sword was it2 What type of weapon29

&hiel did not reply.

His right hand went for the boltgun mag:clamped at his hip.

Guilliman turned cold. &hrough sheer force of will, he negated dismay, surprise,disappointment, even the desire to curse the fact that he had been tric$ed, or to vent his

hurt at how the treachery had been delivered. &here was no practical time for any of those

things. &hey were mere lu/uries.

He negated them in an instant, because if he used that instant to indulge in any of them,

he would be sacrificing his single, nanosecond opportunity to do one far more important

thing.


5/10

Which was remain alive.

.......

&hiel fired his boltgun. His men began shooting too.

!n that first moment, in that first eye blin$, time hung in the air, as weightless as a bar of

sunlight. Guilliman9s transhuman physiology accelerated from nothing to hyperfastresponse.

8ractical. Read. +ove. React. Read everything. *o other thoughts. 8ractical.

He read the storm of bolter:rounds spitting from gun barrels. He read the white:hot

muAAle flashes almost froAen mid:belch by the suspension of time as his heightened

reactions propelled him to a new state of response. He read the mass:reactive shells in the

air, travelling, burning towards him?

Guilliman was already moving, already turning. His right hand was grabbing the edge ofa heavy sunderwood chart table, and pulling, overturning it.

8ractical. Read everything. o many variables, but so few that will ma$e a difference./treme close 3uarters. utnumbered and outgunned. *ot even the slightest margin for

error.

&ime seeped li$e resin. &he top of the flipping table, heavy as a drawbridge gate and

suddenly rising to meet &hiel li$e a bulldoAer blade, too$ the first four rounds virtuallypoint:blan$. &he mass:reactive shells detonated, biting vast wounds out of the dense,

aged hardwood, filling the air with splinters and burning fibres. ne leg of the table came

spinning away.

Guilliman was diving sideways behind the e/ploding tabletop, full:length in mid:air.

&he table completed its overturn and crashed against &hiel and the #ltramarines beside

him, forcing them to bac$step. -ll of the other visitors were firing. i/ bolt:rounds

missed the diving primarch, annihilating a section of the high chamber wall and several

portraits hanging upon it. thers hit the spilled table and a chair beside it. -notherclipped Guilliman9s left shoulder guard and detonated. His plate protected him from the

worst of it, but the heat of the nearest detonation scorched his left chee$ and the nape of

his nec$, and shrapnel peppered the side of his face.

He hit the carpet, rolling, his tumble distorted by the glancing impact.

- weapon discharge alarm started screaming. Why so late2 &he shooting had begunhours before, days before< *o, time was %ust tric$ling li$e syrup.

)oncentrate &he odds are too bad, in such a confined space. !f the Residency9s

bodyguard reacts fast enough?


6/10

&he #ltramarines who had hung bac$ by the door ? of course one of them would cover

the e/it for such an ambush ? clamped a magnetic device onto the doorframe and twistedit. &he public hatches slammed shut. &hey were loc$ed in together. &he primarch and ten

would:be $illers.

&raitors. &urncoats.

Why2

Guilliman was still rolling. +ass:reactives chewed holes in the carpet, chasing him,

filling the air with floc$ fibres and shreds of matting and underfloor. +ass:reactives

punched holes through the furniture he was rolling between, blowing out chair bac$s andarms. &he air was full of cushion stuffing, bliAAards of the stuff.

Why2 Why &hiel2

1on9t thin$ about that. !t9s %ust a distraction, robbing focus from all that actually matters.

8racticals. 8racticals. Read everything. +ove. React.- throne built for a primarch9s stature, punctured twice through the seat bac$ by bolt:

rounds, began toppling onto the ord of #ltramar.

!9m damned if !9ll die on my $nees?

Guilliman rolled onto his bac$, put his weight on his shoulders, met the falling throne

with bent legs and $ic$ed out.

&he throne left the ground, its direction of movement violently reversed. &he flying mass

of it felled three of the traitors in its path.

!9ll die on my feet if ! have to die. ven the odds.

&ime was still as slow as glue. He could see individual bolt:rounds in mid:air, leaving

comet trails of fire behind them. He sprang into the face of the nearest $iller. He seiAed

the man9s right wrist with his left hand and yan$ed his aim aside, so that the boltgun

bar$ed uselessly at the ceiling. 8laster dust showered li$e spilled sugar. Guilliman $epthis grip tight, twisting the pace +arine around in front of him, turning him into a shield

to meet the bolter:rounds crawling through the air towards him. &hree rounds hit the man

in the lower bac$, rupturing his plating and blowing out his spine. Guilliman felt theimpacts transmitted through the body in his grasp, saw the spinning shards of ceramite

armour:plating, fragments of blood and flesh, splashing droplets of blood. He reached

down with his oh:so:unarmoured right hand and grabbed the handle of the man9ssheathed gladius.

&hen he wrenched sideways with his left hand, flinging the dead man aside li$e a doll.

&he motion left the gladius drawn in Guilliman9s bare right hand. caled to the primarch,


7/10

the short sword seemed little more than a large combat $nife. &he flying corpse,

showering blood, loose:limbed and whirling horiAontally, hit two of the other $illers in

the faceplates and $noc$ed them onto their bac$s.

Guilliman turned, shearing the blade of the stolen gladius through the e/tended forearm

of the ne/t nearest $iller. &he veteran9s bolter fired once as it fell to the floor, stillclamped in the severed fist. Guilliman put his foot in the man9s belly and $ic$ed him

away, grabbing the hilt of his adversary9s sheathed power sword with his left hand as he

did so.

- captured blade drawn in each hand, he recoiled sharply, turning his face aside, as a

mass:reactive shell burned past his chee$ li$e an angry insect. &hen he rotated, burying

the edge of the power sword in the side of an #ltramarines head. &he helmet parted, sodid the s$ull. Guilliman saw grinning teeth in a s$inned gumline, and a dislodged eyeball.

&hree down, two of them dead.

But Guilliman was upright, and he was a big target. *o matter that time had slowed to a

glacial pace, he was not the only being in the room with transhuman reactions. Hisassailants were of the egiones -startes, and that made them the most potent warriors in

the !mperium.

Guilliman too$ his first solid hit= a bolt:round to the shoulder. He felt his armour plate

crac$ and compress, felt the sledgehammer slap of it, felt the searing pain of the

fragments that had penetrated his body. - second hit, an instant later, lower bac$, and

then a third, right hip. 1iAAying pain. !mpact. He was fighting for balance. &here wasblood in his mouth. He saw his own blood glinting as it ran down the scorched cobalt:

blue surface of his leg armour.

-nother bolter:round caught him in the left side, e/ploded, and threw him hard into the

room9s massive des$, a piece hewn from the granite of the Hera9s )rown mountains. He

had to drop the gladius to steady himself. rnaments, trophies and documents scatteredoff the des$ in all directions. Guilliman managed to roll his body against the edge of the

des$ so that the ne/t round struc$ its surface rather than him. &he polished stone

fractured and craAed li$e glass. Roaring, Guilliman pushed away from the des$, side:

stepped another hurtling round, and swung the power sword at the shooter. He felt thecollision impact shiver along the blade. &he man left the ground, head bac$, arms rising,

as if he had run throat:first into a tripwire. - small dish of blue metal flew off sideways.

&he power blade had sheared through the cranium of the warrior9s helm, carving off aslice of it. Blood driAAled from the perfectly circular hole in the helm9s ceramite, the

concentric rings of scalp and bone, and then the e/posed brain tissue beneath that. He

landed hard.

Guilliman wanted to reach for the man9s bolter, but another round too$ him in the chest

and blew him bac$ against the des$. &hey were coming at him. -ll those he had $noc$ed

down but not finished were on their feet again. He groped for the fallen gladius on the


8/10

des$, missed it, and found a marble bust of onor9s father instead. He hurled that.

!t struc$ one of the $illers in the faceplate hard enough to turn his head and smash a visorlens. Guilliman9s rummaging hand located the gladius. He hurled that too, li$e a throwing

$nife. !t impaled the nec$ of the assassin he had %ust daAed with the marble bust. &he man

lurched several drun$en steps sideways and collapsed, blood gouting from under his chin.

Guilliman was hit again, left hip. &he pain was so fierce he wondered if his pelvis had

fractured. &wo more shots went past his head to the left, missing him by less than ahand9s breadth.

Gasping with pain, the -venging on threw himself bac$wards over the des$ in an

evasive roll, trying to get its granite bul$ between him and the relentless bolters. tonechips and fragments whiAAed out from every fiery impact. &he front and top of the des$

3uic$ly began to resemble the cratered surface of a moon. ne of the attac$ers leapt on

the des$ to fire over the side at the sheltering primarch. Guilliman came up to meet him,

and put the power sword through both of the assassin9s $nees with a double:handedstro$e that felled the man li$e a sapling. ne leg remained standing on the des$9s top,

supported by its heavy armour casing.

Guilliman could feel blood lea$ing inside his buc$led, perforated armour. He could feel

blood running from the torn tissue of his face and nec$. He could hear the palace guardhammering at the high chamber door.

&he guard could not open the doors, public or private. !f they had no override, then the

assassins had brought a system %ammer with them. 8re:meditated. )lever. !ngenious, infact.

*ot the actions of bitter, disaffected veterans, nor the behaviour of warp:damagedmaniacs.

;Who are you29 Guilliman demanded of anyone and no one. His voice sounded small,enclosed by gun smo$e, cinched by pain.

+ore bolt:rounds came his way in answer, flaring out of the fyceline smo$e that clogged

the air. Guilliman threw himself flat. Bolts $issed the ruined des$ and struc$ the highwindows behind him, creating cobweb patterns of crac$s in the strengthened glass. 8art

of the window drapes collapsed. - picture fell off the wall and its frame shattered. -

boo$case toppled over, spilling its contents in an avalanche of paper and leather bindings.

How many had he finished2 0ive, and one other with a hand severed. Was it five2 How

many of them would it ta$e to finish him2

He glanced around.

&he man he had cut off the des$ was sprawled beside him on his bac$, still twitching.


9/10

Blood had already stopped %etting from the stumps of his thighs, but the carpet around

him was dar$ and soa$ing. He was reaching up wea$ly, aiming his boltgun at Guilliman.

Guilliman rolled and impaled the assassin to the floor with the power sword. &he man

went into %uddering spasms and died.

Guilliman wrenched the boltgun out of his dead grip. i$e the one 8rayto had lent him

the night 1antioch manifested, it was li$e a pistol to him. !t only fitted his un:gauntleted

hand. &hat hand was dripping with blood.

He heard the remaining assassins e/changing guttural, coded words as they fanned

around the devastated des$ through the smo$e to finish him. He didn9t understand what

they were saying. !t wasn9t an #ltramarines battle cant.

!t didn9t matter that he didn9t understand.

8ractical. Read everything. React.&heir e/change told him plenty. !t placed them. ound and relative angle. He $new,

without having to see, that two were coming around the des$ to his left, and one to hisright.

He went to the left. He came around the des$ firing. ne $ill, solid, a head shot, a redfog. - second, two through the chest.

omething ran into him from behind. His mouth opened wide, a silent howl, as he felt the

sharp, cold bite of a gladius blade punching through his bac$:plate armour and running inunder his ribs. !t stayed there. !t was wedged. Guilliman wheeled and smashed his

gauntleted left fist into the face of the swordsman.

&he #ltramarine was somersaulted bac$wards by the force of the blow. He hit the

windows face first, upside down. 1espite the cobweb crac$s, the glass did not brea$. &he

man dropped in a heap on the floor beneath them.

Guilliman turned to trac$ the remaining $illers. &he damned gladius was still stuc$

through him. He?

-t least two shells struc$ his left shoulder armour behind his ear and detonated. He felt as

though his head had snapped off to the right with the shoc$wave. He felt heat and

ferocious pain. He tasted blood and fyceline, his ears ringing, his vision gone.

He fell. He couldn9t get up. He was half propped against the des$ or an overturned chair.

He couldn9t see. He fired blind. !t was pointless. He fired again.

He felt a blade against his throat.


10/10

;1eath to the false mperor,9 said the voice Guilliman had thought belonged to -eonid

&hiel.

;et me die $nowing what you are,9 Guilliman whispered.

- laugh.

'6our $iller.9

;What else2 What else are you29

;! am -lpharius,9 said &hiel.

&hen the hateful rumours from !sstvan, of treacherous mas3uerade and false colours,

were true. &he -lpha egion would employ any means. &he deception through which

this e/ecution had been accomplished, the impeccable covert approach, it made sense.

Guilliman had never had any martial respect for the elusive, cowardly tactics of theyoungest egion, but this had been superlative.

;ne thing you should learn from this moment, servant of the -lpha egion,9 Guilliman

said. ;When you have to murder a primarch, and you get one at your mercy, do not waste

the moment answering his 3uestions when he still has a bolter in his hand.'

Guilliman fired. ;&hiel9 was thrown away from him by the force of the point:blan$ shot.

&he assassin9s blade left a deep scratch across Guilliman9s e/posed throat. Blood welled.

He rose to his feet, unsteady. His clouded vision began to return. He saw the last assassin,

the one whose hand he had chopped off, crawling across the high chamber floor,

struggling to find a boltgun.

;nough,9 Guilliman said, and shot him through the bac$ of the head. &hen he dropped to

his $nees and realised how tired he was.

-t some point after that, the !nvictus guard finally cut through the main doors.

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Papa Smurf