The Imperium Frontier: Black Watch

The alloy bulkhead stood silently before him. Vito stood outside, scanning the expansive training deck. It was empty, though the Mars-class Battlecruiser did not carry a massive crew, and like most products of the Adeptus Mechanicus, its compartments were modular and could be reconfigured at will.

Still, it had been designated as a training bay. Empty? Vito remembered Cole ordering the ship's armsmen to conduct drills just recently; after all, their performance against the Ork boarding party left much to be desired.

Yet, there was not a soul here. Every training servitor and shooting target stood idle. There were not even any servitors present; it was as quiet as a space hulk.

It was precisely because of that silence that Vito clearly heard the sounds from within the chamber. He had to admit, the shouting was quite distinct. He could make out every curse, and the speaker wasn't even using Gothic, but a very distinct regional dialect—the dialect of a very cold planet.

Vito sighed and pressed the switch. The bulkhead slid open, and a gale-force wind rushed out to meet him. Vito saw a massive hand appear before his face, clutching a battleaxe that had nearly flown out to cleave his skull.

Vito stared at the sharp blade, then leaned back to look inside. He saw the dangerous culprit. In the center of the training bay, inside a circular metal cage, two Astartes were locked in combat.

Sweat slicked their knotted muscles. The two giants wielded their weapons, clashing with ferocious intensity. They had even punched a hole through the protective cage, which explained why Vito had nearly been scalped.

"Why are they fighting again?" Vito asked. The massive hand in front of him retracted. Olaf sighed in annoyance and slotted his chainaxe back onto the weapon rack. "Lancelot and Ragnar are arguing over whose Primarch won their duel ten thousand years ago—Lord Lion El'Jonson or Lord Leman Russ."

"And their solution was to come here and brawl?" "Yes." "Wow. That is... very characteristic of them."

"This is madness! Ragnar! I just stitched your wounds! You're going to tear them open!" An Astartes clad in white armor, distinct from Olaf's, roared. He looked furious, standing outside the cage and bellowing like a lion.

"Shut it, Bell! Stop talking nonsense. I've had my arm bitten by a wolf on Fenris and still strangled a giant beast, let alone dealing with a little kitten!" Ragnar retorted. He laughed, only to be struck hard by a longsword, stumbling back into the cage wall. His opponent lunged, pinning him against the edge with the blade.

"Don't get cocky yet, little wolf. You haven't beaten a knight of Caliban!" The blonde Astartes smiled charmingly, but the Son of Fenris, though pinned, grinned savagely and headbutted that perfect face, forcing Lancelot to stagger back.

"Both of you, get down here! I demand you stop in the name of the Apothecary!" Bell roared. Watching the two warriors resume their fight, Bell chuckled and spat out blood. "Forget it. Back on Lethos, you spent over an hour and still couldn't fix me, and I ended up having to carry my bolter into the fray anyway."

"The Emperor preserve us! Was that a minor wound? You were hit by a Devourer's axe! I told you to stand down, but you wouldn't!" "In the name of The Emperor and Terra! Get out here, both of you! I've had rigorous training in Ultramar! I swear you will keep me busy for another full day!"

Vito smiled, standing to the side with Olaf. "How long have they been at it?" "Since before I arrived, Inquisitor. I'd say nearly an hour."

"Excellent."

Vito drew his bolter and fired a single shot. The first round shattered the hunting knife in Ragnar's hand, and the second snapped Lancelot's longsword. Both Astartes were forced to a halt.

The two giants turned their heads to see the smoking muzzle of the Inquisitor's bolter. Vito lowered the weapon, looking at them with a helpless expression. "If I recall correctly, gentlemen, both of your Primarchs swore in the presence of Rogal Dorn that brothers would no longer turn blades against one another. Yet here you are, hacking away at each other?"

Olaf laughed, pushing Lancelot aside with one hand. "A friendly spar, Inquisitor. It's an old custom between our two Chapters." "Whenever the Space Wolves and the Dark Angels meet, we each send a Champion to spar."

"Exactly. If I wanted to kill him, I would have won already." Lancelot brushed back his wet blonde hair and laughed. Ragnar sneered, reaching back to the rack to grab a second weapon. "Is that so? I'd like to see you try." "I'd be more than happy to show you."

Another gunshot rang out, and the hunting knife in Ragnar's hand was pulverized. "Enough. Next time, go compete over your xenos kill counts. It'll be better for everyone. Also, you've wrecked the training cage again."

Ragnar hopped out, looking back at the hole in the cage. "Eh, patch it up and it'll still work. You figure out how to fix it, Bell." "By the suns of Ultramar! I am an Apothecary, not a Tech-Priest!"

Ragnar laughed and slung an arm over Bell's pauldrons. "More skills never hurt. Why not go learn? Everyone knows the best way to heal an ally is to kill the enemy." "Get lost."

Ragnar laughed heartily. Lancelot jumped out as well, rubbing his neck and grabbing a towel to wipe away the sweat. "Is there a problem, Lord Vito?"

"Besides you two breaking things again? Yes, we have a new mission."

As Vito spoke, everyone turned to look. Vito stood before them, hands behind his back, facing the Astartes with his signature posture.

"Grand Inquisitor Hegart has sent word. We are needed in the Victoria System." "Victoria? Do we know what the threat is?"

Olaf asked. The steady old wolf was as reliable as ever. Vito looked at his old friend and shook his head slightly. "No. If Grand Inquisitor Hegart didn't tell us, it means no one knows."

"Ha! Fantastic! I love this kind of fight!" Ragnar roared, unusually excited. "Just like hunting back home, Olaf—tracking prey across the snowfields until we claim the victory!"

"I prefer to be cautious. Inquisitor, do we have any intelligence?" Bell asked, only to be interrupted by Ragnar, who leaned in with a mocking grin. "Don't be so boring, Bell. Not everything has to be done by the book."

Lancelot smiled as he donned his armor lining. He shouldered his power sword and tossed a chainaxe to Ragnar, who caught it instinctively.

"Right, we should head to the bridge. What do you say, old wolf? I don't intend to miss the sight of the jump."

Olaf the old wolf laughed as well. "Indeed. Come, Inquisitor, lead the way." Vito exchanged a look with Olaf and smiled, holstering his bolter. "Of course. Though I expect I'll have to listen to more complaining first."

"Olaf, Lancelot, you've dismantled my equipment again." Cole cursed, but the hulking giant in black armor just smiled, walking past him toward the command bridge.

Cole looked at Ragnar, then at Lancelot, who wore the same smile. Both of them trotted off without a word, but the answer was written all over their faces.

Cole sighed helplessly. "Bell, if they act up again, use your shock prod to put them down." He said to the Apothecary, who responded by patting the anesthetic vials at his waist.

Olaf and Vito walked past him as well. Cole sighed again, straightened his collar, and strode onto the bridge. He stood among the four Astartes, the Captain looking down at the faces turned toward him, all filled with awe.

Whether it was for the Captain, the four Astartes, or the Inquisitor, he couldn't say—but he suspected it was for all of them.

Cole raised his eyes, watching the chaotic vortex appearing in the stars ahead, where countless bolts of lightning and waves of energy churned.

"All hands, prepare for Warp transit. Begin the jump," Cole commanded. Vito walked to the edge of the bridge, looking down at the crew. "Let the adventure begin!"

The warship's massive vector thrusters flared with blue fire. The great vessel turned, sailing into the raging tides of the Warp, and toward a brand-new journey across the sea of stars.