[r4wr89]

There was darkness everywhere, only a solitary shaft of white light penetrating to where Augustine sat. A dull, eerie scraping noise filled the air, and he glanced at his right arm. Four blades grew slowly, haltingly out of his armored fist.
Just the way he liked it.

He continued the familiar ritual with his left arm, four more blades groaning as they slowly left their sheaths. There was a pause, and with a quiet hum the blades glowed, a deep purple light mixing with the purity of the white.

He was ready.

Beside him lay an ancient helmet, given him while he was only a sergeant, so many decades ago. He stroked it lovingly, his ceramite fingers skimming the area where a chaos melta gun had so nearly taken him...taken him to the Emperor. A subtle grin spread across his face as he remembered the green flash of the plasma pistol he shot into the marine’s helmet, the melting of his enemy’s face, and the glorious victory over the traitors that day.

Augustine stretched him arms, forcing himself to snap out of the past. He was the chapter master now, the proud leader of one thousand of his beloved battle brothers.

The darkness was broken by a creaking door, a yellowed shaft of light creeping up the blackness of the floor. Chaplain Antonus Krath stepped in swiftly, his Crozius Arcanum dangling from the side of his flowing robes. The Skull of Krath, his trademark helmet, was wedged under his left arm. Few knew the secret, but in the times of greatest need, Krath’s helmet would erupt in a halo of flame, the strength and wrath of the Emperor manifesting itself through Krath’s own hotheaded personality.

“We will be in range of the Alpha Legion fleet weaponry within the hour, commander,” Krath said, to which Augustine nodded slightly. He was a leader of few words.
“They have tracked our position since we left the Eastern Fringe, hoping to lay their treacherous hands on our cargo,” Krath added, eager to hear a command for battle-preparation. The Night Hunt chapter had been called to defend a pair of barges, The Courtier and The Historian, as part of a supply line to Medusa V. Fully half of the one thousand Night Hunters were garrisoned between the two barges now, personally led by Augustine and Krath, ready to defend the barges against boarding parties.
Augustine nodded again, this time with a command.
“Make ready the defenses…” were the only words heard from him. Krath smirked, his blood beginning to boil. There was nothing he loved more than stirring up the fiery judgment dormant within his stealthy battle brothers. He followed Augustine as he left the room, both entering the cramped corridors of The Courtier silently.