as for the holes, either they were unintentional [as i had some trouble finding the words to illustrate with the feel i had intended] or i plan to expand on them in future installments...hey! like this one :]
Augustine paced the catwalk, overlooking the two hundred Space Marines assembled in the cargo bay of
The Courtier. Below, twenty rows of black armor stood before a raging Krath. The Chaplain’s words were unintelligible from the distance, but Augustine was confident in his Brother’s ability to fuel the silent anger that burned within their hearts. There was no doubt that the same ritual was being performed by two of Krath’s apprentices in
The Historian. The same fiery litanies would be recited, the same anger awakened, and the same victory claimed.
The barges were remarkably agile for their class, but there was no chance of escape from the nimble Alpha Legion cruisers. Augustine and Krath had concluded that the only hope of protecting the supplies would be a boarding battle. Augustine intended to use his enemy’s desire to take the cargo to minimize external damage to the barges, and to lure the Legionnaires into boarding.
Below, on the deck, Krath lectured two hundred battle-brothers, his charisma and confidence echoing through the vast store room.
“Have you a fear of the darkness? A doubt of our calling?” Krath asked of his brothers. “Who are we but Night herself, the shadows that haunt the dreams of traitors? Close your eyes and know the dark judgment of the Emperor’s divine wrath!” He paused momentarily, making eye contact with as many battle-brothers as he could.
“Consider the bolter,” he continued, softer now. “Polished to a glowing sheen, it reflects our hatred of their evil. What reason do we have to remove the flash suppresors? So that the last thing a traitor might see is the Emperor's light! Whom have we to fear? We are the incarnation of fear itself! Embrace the blackness, and follow me! Arise, brothers, and follow me! Into the Night!”
Howls of courage permeated the room, the walls quaking with the shouts of men and the buzzing of chainswords. Instantaneously, the sergeants began yelling orders, squads moving into their assigned corridors. Augustine smiled approvingly at the ordered chaos, resting his arms on the guardrail of the catwalk. He rarely needed to command his brothers, having instilled within each squad a spirit of both unity and independence, allowing his sergeants the freedom to make tactical decisions in the heat of battle.
Augustine, however, did oversee the interior defense preparations of both barges, and had issued specific orders to a select few squads. All that was left to do was wait for the traitors to board.