Quoted By:
>Drukhari
Your brothers did not move at the sight of the drukhari, but you knew. You knew they were bristling for what their kind did to the Reaper Prime. They moved swiftly over the grassy planet, destroying hamlets and towers on the way to a grand palace. The rebels had established a perimeter between the pillars.
“Lieutenant Malakai,” Niko's voice spoke to you. You stood stiffly, looking at Reaper Prime's sarcophagus. “You will drop in deepest, take care of their armor. You will then drop the teleportation node for the Red Brethren.”
The famous cadre from the First Company. You never had this honor. They were always deployed in the thickest of the fighting. You put your fist over your heart in salute. “I'll make them bleed, Reaper.”
—-
The serfs moved about your frame, fitting your power armor on. Passed down from lieutenant to lieutenant. It still felt surreal donning your mentor's armor. You never laid eyes on him until he was on the funeral pyre. The armor attaches to your black carapace, a familiar, dull pain as your enhanced body becomes even moreso. Without the power armor, you felt incomplete. Wrong. The visor hummed to life, and you click-blink the aiming assistance away. The serfs struggle with the pauldrons, gently aligning with your chest armor once on. Made of a mismatch of armor, the vox-grille of the helm had paint depicting shark teeth. You move your limbs slightly, confirming the servos and fibre muscles were synchronized with your body.
You glance at the ancient idol of the Void Father, the Emperor, in the armory. Candles of varying length flicker around the triumphant titan, holding a blade to the heavens. How he was before the Heresy.
>You always had a zeal for the Void Father. You give an offering for the battle to come.
>You were moderate in your spirituality. You give a solemn prayer.
>You never felt a pull in spiritual matters. You ignored the idol.
