Writefaggotry: Family Matters

So, some days ago I began to post a small story, but had to cut it short due to work-related things. I have the first part finished, and I spellchecked it a little bit. So I will be posting the whole thing. It is not very long, hope you like it!

It seemed a formal letter. Maybe the most formal letter that grazed that sub-spire in the last 400 years, since its foundation. It was made from proper paper, which in that word was a luxury, and had a red wax seal. The size of the letter looked odd, as it made for bigger hands.
That day, Aldous Orwellus was returning home after his normal 16-hour shift. He was a teacher in a nearby school, 60 levels down. He knew that half the juves there would end joining a gang in the next 5 years, and that 1 every 4 would be dead in the next 10, but that didn’t deter him of trying to teach a little bit of the most basic stuff. The serfs of the God-Emperor should at least know how to read a damn data-slate.
He didn’t expect a ministrorum adept waiting for him home, as he didn’t expect the letter.
Once he opened it, his doubts weren’t still resolved. He had more than before, in fact.

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++++++++++++++

“To the attention of Aldous Orwellus, descendant of Linus Orwellus, descendant of Freyer Orwellus, descendant of Janus Orwellus,
I am Captain Mathias Terruel, on board of the battle-barge “Fury of the Stars”, which stationed in your planet two cycles ago, and awaits reconditioning before our next warp jump.
It seems you are the last member alive of the Orwell family, and one of my passengers has asked permission to visit you. Strange as it is, it seems their brethren have a tradition of doing just that.
I would advise you to allow his request, as being a guest of one of the angels of the Emperor is probably the highest service you will do in your life, but he has repeatedly insisted that you should do it of your own volition as he “does not want to be a burden”.

I expect your answer by tomorrow. My messenger will come pick it up.

Tought of the day: A questioning servant is more dangerous than an ignorant heretic.
++++++++++++++

-You never did tell me that you had an Ecclesiarch in your family!
-I didn’t know, dear. So, what are we going to do?
-I…. I don’t know.
An ecclesiarch. There was no other possible answer. And possibly a powerful one, to boot. Powerful enough to make a captain of a battle-barge write a message to a lowly middle-hiver such as him. “Angel of the Emperor”…. That would probably be the name of his particular order. It seemed… quite peaceful. Certainly more than others like the Redemptionists and his little cult, which seemed to steadily grow in the bowels of the Hive. If he had to choose, he will prefer to have a man of peace, a reasonable man, as his guest.
-What the drokk you mean when you say you don’t know?
His wife, Emilliana, normally so sweet, even after thirty years had a tendency to revert to hive-speak from her early years as a ganger when nervous or angry. Nobody would have thought that that small, slightly chubby sweet-faced woman had once been the terror of the neirbouringh gangs. She had had her tattoos removed, only one remaining in a place that no one but Aldous would probably see.
-This…. This guys, if they are important… they normally take juve treatments. For what I know, he could be 300 years old. For what I know, he could be my great great great grandfather.
-Mmh, that makes sense then. So, will you accept?
-Would you like to anger the Ecclesiarchy?
-Good point

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And he had answered the next day. What else could he do. He spent his free time the next days preparing his quite spacious 25 square meters house to harbour such honoured guest. They prepared their bedroom, emptying from all their things. For the next week, her spouse would sleep with his son, in their small alcove. As for him, there was a particular comfortable cupboard, down the sink. It was a little bit humid, but one of the waste pipes from a fabricator 40 levels below passed near the wall, giving it a nice, warm heat.
Their also spend a small fortune buying a ton of votive candles, figurines of the emperor, even one blessed purity seal for which he had to travel to one of the higher levels cathedrals.
The priest there took pity of his situation and gave him a hand-written seal, more beautiful that the ones you could normally get at the entrance of the church. Although he mentioned he had never heard of any order with the custom to come back home for sanguinala. But the Imperium was vast and their worlds countless, so anything was possible.
That night, while he nervously waited in his sofa, he did what he had done since a child in order to calm himself. Look into the fire of the candles lit at his home. The flickering flame, red, full of warmth, had always had a shooting effect on his psyche.

And now, there he was, with a 2.5 meters giant in front of him, clad in green armor. And worse of all, he wanted… he wanted to give him a hug. He slowly approached, suspicious, to his extended arms. Her wife, behind her, suspired a low “No!”. He looked around. The scope of his arms was so big that he had to move his head from one side to the other to be able to see both of them. The situation was certainly surreal. Here there was a giant, a monster in human form, with blazing red eyes and black skin, looking at him, eager to give him a hug. Well, there was no other option, wasn’t it? He slowly approached.
The hug was certainly weird. His arms were hugging his waist, not really being able to grab him. It was akin to try to hug a wall. It was just that… well, the wall hug back. It looked obvious that he was trying not to hurt him while he slowly bent his spine and enveloped his body with huge arms, each as big as his head. It reminded him of the himself, hugging his son. The giant tried a small, delicate pat in the back.
It nearly cracked a rib.
The voice boomed again:
-Oh, how I missed seeing some of my family! Thank you, thank you for acceding to host me! You must be Aldous! I’m Janus, nice to meet you and your family, friend!
Suddenly, he remembered the letter he received.
-Janus? Are you…? Are you my great-grandfather?
The giant looked at him, frowning his brow, as if trying to remember. Swiftly, his visage changed, and a deep, deep laugh began to reverberate in the corridor. He could hear dogs yelping on the outside, possibly fearing some new predator from the sub-levels came to hunt them.
-Hohohoh. No friend, that little rascal was my great-nephew!
Well, that explained everything, didn’t it?

+++++++++++++++++++++
One week ago, aboard the battle-barge “Fury of the Stars”.
Janus Orwellus, brother warrior of the 4th company of the Salamanders, was excited. If you ask anybody from the Imperial Guard, they would tell you that Space Marines are stoic, serious warriors, nearly unfeeling in his relentless pursuit of glory for the emperor.
That was not completely true. Well, it was if we were talking about the Imperial Fists, or any of his successor chapters, but the Space Marines are certainly capable of feelings other than fury and righteous anger, only that they tend to be more… subtle in their ways of showing them.
Spontaneous and overwhelming happiness tough, was not one of the most common feelings of a Space Marine.
Nevertheless, Janus was so full with glee that he had to reprimand his desire to jump up and down his habitacle. It would have been certainly hard to explain several boot-shaped marks in the iron floor.
Instead, he went to the training chambers, were he dispatched several training servitors as he laughed like a maniac.

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One year ago, Janus came back to Nocturne after a long-long campaign. He had been cleansing a small outpost in a neighbouring system of ork activity, when a small splinter fleet decided to attack the planet. The following 3-way war had been a long and bloody affair, and it took more than 50 years for both infestations to be cleansed. Afterwards, he spent 50 more years on several missions, without being able to ever return to Nocturne.
This was par of the course for some void-based chapters, but for a Salamander it was certainly difficult. He had his clan back at Nocturne, and he missed them. Saying that he was homesick would be an affront to his faith to the Emperor and his Superiors. But every Sanguinala for the last 100 years had been a particular long and lonely week. During those nights, be it in a trench, in a vessel, or in a fortress, he had spared thoughts to his home planet and his tribe.
It had been a hard hit when he came back and discovered that his clan was no more. Worst of all, they hadn’t been violently exterminated, or silently assassinated at night. There was no enemy to avenge, no monster to slain. An earthquake and a land-slide had destroyed their village. And the two couples left, already old, died sadly without having more children, telling to each other the legends of their clan at night to fight the loneliness. Until one night, the emperor took piety of them and calmly claimed them in their sleep. They were in his company now. And their histories, their legends, lost forever. In 20 years, his clan, his proud clan, had been erased from history.

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That had not affected his sense of duty. He had continued his service to his Brothers and the Emperor for 10 more years. But he was sad. And the sadness of a Salamander runs deep, slowly and unstoppable, like a lava flow.

That was until one last month, when he arrived to Premevertius Quintilla, a not-really important planet with several hive-city populations. They had sustained a dark eldar raid before jumping into the warp, and had had to cut short the transit when the Gellar Field began to falter shortly thereafter. Their navigator was now in an induced coma, and several of the ships more external bridges had to be decontaminated and repurified. It is not pleasant when the walls literally have ears, and seeing yourself leaving a room when you are entering it is a strange situation. So, until the basic laws of casualty and thermodynamics returned to the ship, they were to stay in that planet.

Space Marines have eidetic memory. What people usually forgot is that Space Marines have eidetic memory since the moment they become Space Marines. So, although a normal Space Marine is able to recite the names of the battle-brothers that perished in a glorious charge several centuries ago, sometimes they struggle to remember the name of their childhood friends, or their favourite food as a child, even on some sad cases the name of their own parents. Some of the most ancient Salamanders have inscribed the names of their family in reliquaries, so they may never forget it.
It was not strange, then, that the name of Premevertius didn’t ring a bell to Janus. It was not until the second day that he remembered that, shortly before he was called to arms, his great-great nephew, Janus, had enlisted with the groupe of a trader. Not a rogue trader, mind you. Just one of the innumerable ones that ran through well-known warp corridors, transporting weapons, food and materials trough the worlds of the imperium. He was a restless one, Janus. Clever of wits, but not apt to hold a weapon. He later was told that he established in Premevertius. Could it be that Janus still had family in some part of their galaxy? Would a splinter of this tribe, away from the big fire, had not been consumed? Could this splinter be rekindled? Would they accept him into his fold?

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He doubts were resolved after a quick visit to the ministrorum station in that planet. A two and a half meters Space Marine clad in armor, with a flamethrower casually held in one hand tends to have a really particular effect upon people who value more paper than human life.
He was still alive! I meant, not Janus, but his great-great-great son! And he was a teacher! A shaman of the tribe! A keeper of stories, legend and knowledge. That was just amazing. Giving thanks to the Emperor for his luck, he convinced the captain of the Battle Barge to deliver a note to his relative. The Captain insisted that he could just go there and meet them. But that would have been rude, and Janus did not want to make his only remaining family feel uncomfortable.

And finally, there he was, being welcomed again in a house that he hoped he could call eventually his. They were unbelievably tense. He knew how he looked, and how much he regretted the fear that he induced in the average imperial guard human. Charred black skin, red eyes. He had heard the guys of the regiment call him and his brothers names when they thought they were out of their sight. The names topics oscillated between fear, awe and blasphemy. Janus was looking at Aldous, which looked as he thought he was about to be eaten. Her wife and son were behind him, almost paralyzed. They invited him to go inside regardless. Family matters, after all.
The massive tower of a man slowly advanced to the door. He was massive, each fibre of his being a prayer to the holiness of the human form. He was the absolute peak of humanity, gene-engineered to the emperor to withstand conditions that would kill lesser humans. He was an angel of vengeance, a holder of fury. He was 2 meters and a half, and the ferrocrete reinforced lintel was at 2 meters 30 cm.
The people on the building were surprised hearing what sounded like the bell toll to laudes mass almost one hour before it was expected.

After a brief discussion with the concepts of up and down, and a small promise to never let anyone of his brothers know about this accident, brother Janus raised as a small, deeply embarrassed mountain.
He looked at Aldous, which has futilely trying to help him get up. He looked at him back. Two laughter, one high pitched and the other deep and rumbling, were heard in the corridor. Strangely enough, if one was to listen to them, they would have said that they seemed quite similar, one a deep reflection of the other.

The habitacle
+++++++++++
Once the tension had disbanded, it was easier to present the rest of the family to Janus. Janus looked less like a monster and more like, well, a man that just happened to have the size of a small truck and the skin of the colour of the smoke that came from the hive factories.
-This is my wife Emilliana –He said, pointing at the woman that was still kind of trying to make herself invisible against the wall-.
-Well met Emilliana! I hope to hear all from you on these days.
-And my son, Rayabrad.
Janus dropped to his knee. Now his eyes were more or less at the position of Aldous forehead.
-Will you give you uncle a big hug, Rayabrad?
The small, 9 year old child kept himself firmly tucked behind his mother legs.
-Common, Ray-Ray, give him a hug.-said Aldous-.
To this, Ray answered with a gaze of utter betrayal not seen since Istvaan. He kept nevertheless in his place. Janus decided not to press the matter, and raised again to his full height.
-So, do you want to come inside?
-I would be more than glad to, my friend.
That probed to be a challenge on its own.

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Let me tell you about the normal hiver flat. Let’s begin by the upper parts of the hive, were the aristocracy, regents, or the guys who have convinced the rest of the people that things would fall into chaos (without uppercase, although sometimes they both get mixed) if they are not in charge lives. There a single flat can comprise the entirety of a sub-spire, and the dwellers may need a small army of servants, serfs and servo-skulls (very convenient when you are in bed and you realize that the light is still on but oh it is so damn comfortable in here) in order for things not to fall or disarray (or literally fall from the hive, if we are talking about the most exterior and eccentric spires). By contrast, in the underhive, a house comprises between 5 and 8 square meters per nuclear family. That includes the two parents, their six or seven children, and probably a small, wrinkled man that was already there when they arrived, which has partially fused with the wall at this point.
In the Underhive… well, better not to think a lot of the Underhive. Let’s just say that sometimes there are spots dry enough where you can sleep, from time to time.
Certainly, in the middle levels the situation is easier. Flats are big enough to allow some air to breath (literally) and some room to grow (if you are more than 170cm, often also quite literally). They normally have a room that serve as living room, dining room, and kitchen. A small bathroom and up to two spare rooms. As it said in the brochure “You will feel like the emperor on his throne”. The flats were designed to optimize space, allowing the qualified workers of the middle hive to live with the least amount of space used. What they were certainly not designed for is to be occupied by a Space Marine.

Janus had to advance tactically, with utter care, as he was shown the flat and his room. He kept thinking, but the Codex Astartes had definitely not planned for such a contingency.

Dinner time arrived swiftly, and a new problem arise. Have you ever tried to sit down a 200kg post-human in full armour in a kitchen chair? No, of course you haven’t, because you would then have a 200k post-human in full armour in the kitchen floor. Luckily, Janus was quite understanding of having to sit down in an old reinforced steel cage that had been passed through generations in the Orwellus family. Janus suspected that this may have been in fact originally one of the cages from the trader which employed Aldous grandfather. A more thoughtful man would have believed this an appropriate metaphor of how family can support you. Janus was just happy of sitting down and enjoying dinner with his newfound family.

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The steak
+++++++++++++++
-Mmmmh, Emilliana?

-Yes?

-Would it be any trouble if you could do my steak a little bit more?

-No, of course. How would you like it?

-Well done, please

Ten minutes later

-Is it ok already?

-A little bit more, if it is not a big trouble

-But, but it is nearly burnt to a crisp!

-Yes, it is indeed nearly there.

-But the crust is charred!

-Exactly

-And it is completely dry!

-Exactly

-And there are small black lumps that got stuck to the borders of the steak!

-Those are difficult to get. You are truly a great cook, Emilliana!

-But, but…

-Oh!, notice that smell? It reminds me of home.

Sleep time
+++++++++++++++
-Aldous
-Yes, Janus?
-You can call me “uncle”.
-Yes… uncle?
-Before you retire for rest… could I ask you for one last favour?
-Of course
-You have done so much for me today, and I dare not abuse your hospitality.
-Do not worry, really, it has not been a big trouble.
-Before you go...-he paused- in our tribe, on days of great meetings, after long lost members of it returned home, with the sustenance needed to survive another moon, there was a big celebration. The shaman told us stories about our tribe, about the great beast that were slain, about the hardships they endured, about how… a tribe together can be more than the sum of their individuals.
-That…That is beautiful
-It was –Janus eyes became a darker shade of red-. And it will be again. Today is the day in which I returned to the tribe after being lost for years. You are a teacher, the last shaman alive from our tribe. Could you please… could you please tell me a story from our tribe? It would help me ease my soul before my slumber.
-Are you… are you asking me to tell you a bedtime story?
-That would be a way of putting it, yes
For Aldous that was positively the strangest bedtime story of his live. told Janus a story about life on the Hive. About the Sisyphean task of trying to teach the juves on the underhive. About trying to raise a son so he didn’t become one of those, about the many hardships of a simple life.
-And then I told the Arbites that it hadn’t been so bad. At the end, the guy had just lost a hand and an eye on the process and…
Janus was deep asleep, his lungs slowly filling up, like a giant bellow. His hand was steadily hugging his bolter, and in his ebony face he had a look of peace. If you had sharp eyes, you could have nearly made out a thin smile in his lips.

And that is it for the first part!! Hope you liked it, any feedback is welcome. I'm not a native english speaker, so sorry if there are any glaring mistakes.

>>55225232
Not bad faggot. Do u plan to continue It?

>>55226141
Thanks! I would like to, but I do not have a lot of time, so, who knows...

>>55226200
Well you will always be welcomed to post more.