Secret War: Warhammer 40,000 by Ben Agar (romantic novels to read .TXT) 📕

still here? After Glaitis' 'extracurricular' activities and the subsequent chaos at The Twilight Bar, wouldn't Taryst at the very least fired Glaitis for going behind his back? I could hazard a myriad amount of guesses at this, but one seemed to fit, that Brutis Bones' was still at large, whether they had confronted and killed or captured that man I had fought at the man meant he wasn't Brutis or that was Brutis, and he did escape. Or the whole 'independent' operation was known to Taryst, and for some reason, Glaitis lied to us about it.

But if the former were true, I would once again emphasise the full extent of Taryst's desperation that he would keep us around after that incident. That he needed our skills so badly brought this into an even larger light, and now I know that perhaps Brutis Bones or that man I fought has connections with the Holy Inquisition. That would explain the enormous funding it has and them being able to keep a pet Arco Flagellant and if they were Inquisition, why couldn't they make contact with the local authorities? As Taryst seems to be going to insane lengths to hide from them?

What that man in the Twilight Bar had said then echoed ominously through my thoughts; that there was more at stake than I could imagine, now his words could not ring with much more truth.

"When we were finally permitted to enter your room," said Feuilt. "We found that you were still unconscious, but you were completely intact; your shattered bones miraculously re nit, and your brain activity was back, functioning at normal parameters."

I expected more elaboration from the medicae, but he trailed off once more, confirming that he wasn't telling me everything.

How had this psyker who apparently completely healed me but yet here I am, still lying in this bed where even the slightest of movements causes complete agony? How did he even know that I would be at full order in four months?

Damn it, Feuilt, your explanation was creating nothing but more questions, and if I couldn't get those missing details during the next month, once I get well, I will frigging ring them out of the old bastard and Emperor; damn the consequences!

Feuilt smiled almost nervously. "Also, during your month-long coma, quite a few people came to visit you, Garrakson, young Elandria, Torris and if you are wondering, Torris has recovered from his injuries. He now has a new augmetic for his missing eye, and he is out on the field working at full capacity now. Even Taryst himself once visited you."

I felt glad about Torris' recovery but felt a pang of guilt; the guy had visited me during my injury, but I had hardly visited him; the next time, I will have to apologise. But at the medicae's mention of Taryst, I sighed; he would have only come to have his psykers withdraw the information he needed from my mind.

"A few new people as well, a light, snarky man named Darrance. He came once. A friendly, big man called uhm Hayden a few times, but most prolific of all was that woman Castella she came in every day and every day prayed over you, it was no coincidence that she was there the first time you woke up, your lucky that you have so many who care for you so much."

I could understand Hayden and Castella (though her coming in every day was quite shocking), And even to an extent Elandria, but Darrance? Perhaps Glaitis had forced him to or something; that was the only explanation I could theorise.

"Well," said Feuilt as he got off of his chair. "That is enough exposition for today, young Mr Kaltos. I really should not have told you so much, but I felt you deserve some explanation at least, and as your medicae, I advise for you to not stress too much over the information I have given you, and stress, no matter how small, will slow the healing process. You need to relax. I will inform everyone you are awake," and with that, Feiult turned and walked out the door.

I sighed to myself once Feuilt had left. Did he just ask me not to stress out about all the gigantic holes in his 'exposition?' And now that I am stuck here immobile and alone as well? Medicae Yarran Feuilt really didn't know me, did he?

 

 

For the next three hours, I lied alone, and I lost myself in thought as I stared up at that white, tiled ceiling.

I thought over a myriad amount of subjects, the first being how interesting it was that a psyker had repaired my shattered body. I really didn't know that it could be used in such an extreme healing aspect, though it made perfect sense in retrospect. With the power to manipulate much of your surroundings and warp other people minds to your own will, why couldn't psychic talents be used to re-nit bones?

Perhaps that was the reason why I was still bedridden; I am still suffering from the trauma of having my shattered bones repaired by a completely foreign and unnatural force.

My body was destroyed beyond repair; the skill and power of that mystery psyker must have been beyond phenomenal to accomplish such a task. Perhaps the psyker brought in was one of Taryst's cadre? But why would it then take a week before he/she or, on a more frightening note, "it" could be brought in to repair me and once again, my thoughts went to that one question I really wanted to avoid thinking about; why would Glaitis go to so much trouble to save me? I wanted to avoid this question as much as possible as I was unable to make a coherent theory on the answer. Was it because she genuinely cared for my well being? That I doubted, everything she did, good or bad, seemed to have something behind it which aided her mysterious agenda in one way or another.

I always knew I was but a pawn in that agenda, but now, apparently, I was a slightly more special pawn.

My constant circling and a futile train of thought were eventually interrupted by my first visitors, three of them to be exact.

Elandria was first through the door, her pale face as impassive as always, but she treated me to a slight, almost respectful nod. Then she silently went and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest and gazed off, generally looking bored; her attention sometimes came back to me, and when she noticed, I noticed she quickly looked away. I had always found it sad that it was such a rare occasion when she smiled legitimately; it would have been nice to see her smile, especially now.

Garrakson was next, wearing his usual scarred old guard carapace armour, with a big grin plastered on his equally marred face.

"Hey kid, good to see you're finally awake," he said, then he frowned. "Damn it, though; you bloody well took your sweet time."

Yeah, I thought in good humour, having most of your bones shattered would do that to a person.

"Yes," said Elandria as she unknowingly spoke my thoughts but was devoid of humour, "but that is what would happen to most people after they had most of their bones shattered."

"Now that's where your wrong, kiddo," corrected Garrakson, "no, most people would be dead."

"Well, Attelus Kaltos isn't 'most' people, is he?" said the third person as he entered. The tall and dark-skinned Torris grinned at me widely with the white teeth that contrasted his complexion, and though I knew one of his eyes was an augmetic, yet it was hard to tell which. It seemed that Taryst had spared no expense for the ex-arbitrator, and I was glad to see that.

"He is the mighty hero of the Twilight bar who sacrificed himself to rescue the young party-goers from a monster of horrible power; no, Attelus is now a hero, a legend, a god amongst men."

My eyes widened. Did everybody already know of what had happened? Except for perhaps medicae Feuilt, he didn't seem to, but I was extremely sure he was also not telling me entirely what he knew anyway.

"Yeah, yeah, keep it down, Tor," said Garrakson. "By the Emperor, I swear you and Taryst should have a competition to see which of you can chew more scenery."

"But," added Elandria, "whether he actually 'sacrificed' himself is, really, up for interpretation."

Not liking at all where Elandria was taking the conversation, I tried to shoot at her a death glare to make her shut up. Still, it was an attempt that failed miserably, going wholly unnoticed, and Torris and Garrakson gave her bemused glances.

"What does that mean?" asked Torris, almost accusatory; I could tell he had an idea where this was also going.

Elandria grinned wickedly. "I think the real reason behind it was Attelus Kaltos meant to use the 'innocent' party-goers as human shields to protect him from the arco-flagellant until back up arrived, and he was just extremely lucky; it did."

"No!" I managed to exclaim even though it caused me pain to do so. "No! That wasn't what I intended to do at all!"

Her words were cruel and truly callous, but perhaps they weren't without merit? Perhaps all she, Castella, Darrance and Tresch had found was a bloodbath, and this may be even more evidence pointing to Castella lying to me.

She shrugged, seemingly almost frightened at how genuine my heartfelt rebuttal was. "I am no psyker; I can't read thoughts," she said, pouting. "It's what I would have done if in that situation."

Everyone stared at her in utter shock. So this was the true Elandria? Someone so inherently evil and brainwashed that she couldn't even begin to comprehend that someone in the same line of work as she could do any good. She said that what she said wasn't meant to be cruel, that it was from genuine ignorance, which made it even worse.

"Elandria," said Garrakson with an icy calm, the ex-guardsman's face was dark, as hard as a stone, and for a minute, he was utterly terrifying.

"What?"

"Get out."

"What?"

"I said, get out! And that's a frigging order!" snarled Garrakson suddenly, and that was the first time I had ever heard him raise his voice in anger. Even Torris, who had worked with Garrakson for a long time, seemed surprised by the outburst.

Elandria flinched at the intensity, but then irrational rage began to spread over her fine-featured face, and for a second, I could have sworn that it would come to blows as she glared up at Garrakson and while he stared down stoically. To be honest, I wasn't sure who would win if it did; Garrakson had the obvious advantage of size, strength and reach, and he was well versed in basic brawling and guard CQC drills, but Elandria was even my equal in close combat; she was sly, agile and very, very fast. But in these confined quarters, Garrakson had the upper hand, so to speak, as Elandria had little to no room to manoeuvre.

Elandria seemed to realise this as after what felt like an eternity; her face twitched back into its typical impassive, then she turned and walked out the room, muttering, "whatever", as she closed the door behind her.

Garrakson turned back to me. "I'm sorry about that kid," he said. "Both Tor and I know that you wouldn't do such a thing."

At that line, I looked away, feeling extreme guilt welling at the pit of my gut as I acknowledged just how close I had come to abandoning those people who, in my opinion, would have been equally as monstrous.

"I-I," I swallowed back the pain which had come with that utterance. My earlier exclamation must have done more damage than I thought, "I was, the one who had lead that Arcoflagellent to those people; I was responsible for it, so I had to try to make up for it."

"Fair enough and noble words Attelus," said Torris, but he and Garrakson exchanged almost guilty glances. "But