Last Son of Caliban: I, Bors
Being an account of Lieutenant Bors of the Fifth Company, First Chapter, Legio Astartes, “Dark Angels”
“I have served the First for nearly one hundred years, sidereal. I have battled rebels, xenos, traitors, heretics, daemons, simple fools to the greatest terrors of the galaxy. I fought as a scout, a devastator, an assault squad member, a brother of a tactical squad, a sergeant, a member of the Raven Wing, a Dark Talon pilot, and in the Bone-White battleplate of the Deathwing.
When Master Balthasar fell I was all but assured his position as Master of the Fifth, until the Primarch intervened. He informed Supreme Grand Master Azrael that he had noted, with interest, the lack of advancement of our new Primaris “brothers” and was confused about their poor performance with our great chapter. He noted the performance of Master Cain when he commanded a Company during the Indomitus Crusade. As such he requested and required that then-Lieutenant Cain be appointed command over the first Company available, and thus my path was altered.
His performance has never been wanting, his leadership adequate, and his knowledge of both our weapons and our enemies, serviceable. He uses his subordinates to their strengths, and his employment of the full panoply of war demands even my grudging respect. Beyond that the Chapter demands my eyes on him. The Fifth is frequently supported by Grand Master Ezekiel and much of this is to ensure that the secrets a Master of the Dark Angels must know are kept secure.
In truth I cannot say whether he or I would be a better Master of the Fifth. I would not venture to second guess the Primarch, even though he is not ours, but I must admit I resent not having the chance to test my own mettle.”
I laid down the autoquill. Sealing the tome under gene-lock I stored it beneath the surface of my small desk. Every officer and Sergeant of the Fifth kept his records to be stored and recorded in the annals of the First. Taking a moment to ensure my wargear, my weapons, battleplate and jump-pack had been properly stored I prepared for rest. It was late in the day, truly it was early in the next, but the workload on officers of the First allowed for little sleep.
A vox-chime from my wrist reminded me that I bore not this burden alone. I recognized the comm-code of Grand Master Ezekiel and at once lifted the bracelet.
“Grand Master, how may I serve?”
“We brief tomorrow for the drop on Barnabus. You will attend me before Morning Prayer, that we may discuss certain aspects of the mission. The brief will take place instead of morning drills. Barnabus seems to be a simple rebellion but we have noted concerning patterns. We will discuss more before the brief.”
“Of course Grand Master. Is there aught else?”
The cutting of the carrier wave stood as Ezekiel’s only answer. I slapped the light switch on the wall and lay on my pallet.