Age of Burning Empires: IC

[ZealousThoughts]

​

Mek Towers, once a bastion of the Great Orkish Empire in the South was now nothing more than a burning wreck. The efforts of the Warriors of Peace had assured the attention of the Ork were away from the assassin's blow that the other Primarchs wished to strike in the south. Very few in the legion had been upset at the other legions taking the 'glory' of striking at the Waagh leaders with the legion sages pointing out, rightly, that covert attacks and deception were not a strength of their legion. Indeed Zhukelin himself had called their efforts the 'Nobler Path' in that they were fighting a battle that did not rely on trickery.

This view was not held by the wider legion as earlier noted with those of Han ancestry noting the words of the famed scholar of their planet 'Sun Su' who stated that 'All war is deception, be that concealing how weak one is or how strong'. The two most senior members of the 'Young' Legionnaires were the twin brothers Xian Dong and Xian Yun both of whom held the title of 1st Captain. Unlike in other legions the first company of the Warriors was not focused upon a particular skill or type of legionnaire instead it was an even split between the forces of the Richu Assault Marines under Xian Yun and the Riluo Terminators of Xian Dong.

The two brothers often operated more like one mind with both being secretive about how much of their power allowed them to coordinate their efforts but the efforts of the 1st Company so often were a perfect hammer and anvil that outside observers often assumed there was but one leader in two bodies. Striding through the torn battlefield the brothers looked upon the remains before them left by their Gene-Father as he took to the field himself. Unlike his normal efforts that had used his physical techniques or the glaive gifted to him by his brother this looked closer to the remains of a natural disaster.

The remains of bodies turned nearly to glass by the heat of white fire and torn into pieces by shards of midnight stone.The evidence that The General had shown just what his strength could be, a remnant of a rage that had not been seen since the near fall of Qin itself decades past. And before the two the broken stumps of buildings that had reached into the atmosphere in their heights before the strength of the mind of their Father had wrenched down the pride of the Ork.

Turning to his older (by seconds) brother the Ruby General (Xian Yun) clearly projected his worry across the bond between their minds and also in his tone.

"What has happened to The General? Has he lost control? This is not the evidence of the teachings of the monastery-schools we grew up in with him, this is….else….but it is somehow not Dark Qi, at least not wholly, it feels tempered….controlled…."

"....or balanced."

The Emerald General (Xian Dong), gesturing with the chain fist of his terminator armour at all that was around him as he replied, the death the burning and, curiously, the fact that from many remains there were already the smallest buds of….plants growing among the death.

"It would seem that Our Father has stumbled across something else, a path that balances the Yin and the Yang and avoids the temptation of the Dark Qi. This was not an act of death and destruction only, it was purification and sowing of new where the old was naught but an infestation…..but where he learnt this I know not……this is not the teachings of the Great Tsao Tsao that the orthodox temples taught us. We grew up with him from penitent monks to full members of our order……"

The two share a troubled look as they continue their patrol through the lifeless warscape, knowing that the Ork were unlikely to have the willingness to be so sly as to play possum but keeping to the principles of Sun Su on which the warfare of the legion was based. Almost as if he had heard their conversation, however they came upon a most unusual sight, that of Zhukelin. The Lièhóu who stood only below the Primarch himself and Guro Saion Kai of the Iron Monks engaged in heated debate. As they noticed the brothers approach and read upon their auras their worry was clear as day the two gestured for them to join their conversation.

"Greetings, Captains of the first, the Iron Monk and I were merely discussing the change in the Primarch. He expressed worries that The General might have embraced….unsavoury things but I explained to him, as I shall now to you, that should not be a sign of worry but a sign that The General is finally grasping all that his lineage as a Son of the Emperor gives him. This power, this display was still only a portion of what he will and can achieve. Whilst you all underwent your ascension to the astartes our lord met with a man, Elias Dradmire, you would have no reason to know his role and indeed I know little and less.

I was lucky however that The General confided in me then all those years ago that Elias spoke of potential and more that can be achieved with our powers and skills in cultivation. It would seem that our Father has made a breakthrough though we would have to look at the fractal he uses to cultivate power from the immerterium to be sure…..nevertheless this will only strengthen us."

The First Sage of the Legion simply nodded.

"As the teachings say; The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is today…."

 

[SteelWriter77]

Under the orders of their Primarch Alaric Quadar, chapters of the Umbral Watch spread out across the Imperium to search for any trouble ailing the worlds of Mankind. One such chapter we look to now is the The Knives of Illumination, who scoured the western holdings of the Imperium for any signs of troubles or potential Eldar attacks unseen by the wider net of informants and Astropaths.

What they found was a wreck of a massive ship floating in space, clear signs of Warp travel going wrong was apparent at the sight of malformed metal that a failed Geller Field often indicates. Determining that the strange broken vessel was safe, a team of Terminators were sent onboard to investigate the interior and determine the source and what should be done with the strange unknown vessel.

Upon further investigations it was concluded that this ship came from the now defunct Thule that the Coldiron Cages and Mymirdions had fought years ago, though a much older design then the ones they had fought. While inferior to the grand ships of the Imperium, it was a more mobile and stealthy vessel due to its smaller size, with the right repairs and oversight this ancient vessel could serve well for the Cuter Dei or for the Primarch's own personal use.
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Meanwhile along the northern edges of the Imperium, we find the Tempest Specters on their own patrol route, finding their own odd sight. An abandoned space station was not an unusual sight, but the danger of this place was immediate and apparent, vast amounts of Ork ships hovered around the station, clear Orkish remodeling was apparent upon the station, but in the early stages.

As the Tempest Specters watched, their Vox's opened up with a crackling and clear sign of Vox interference. "HAHAHAH 'Ummies eh? Well lads, let'z show em how the Green Klaw Fleet breaks them all!" The vox link picked up the frantic and brutal cries of the Greenskin navy as they turned to open fire upon the intruders.

Despite the sheer amounts of firepower the Orks held, the Umbral Watch were able to retreat from the position and send out their findings to the wider Imperium, this Green-Klaw fleet had the potential of great damage this close to the lines of the Eldar front.

 

[ZealousThoughts]

Taskmaster Zhen In Traditional Robes​

Shandong, Greater Han Prefecture, Imperium of Man - The Planet of Shandong was typical of many worlds within the Han dominated planets of that swathe of space, having been under the rule of The Jade General for some decades before joining the Imperium of Man the planets retain the traditionally temple-monastery system of old even as the level of industry and production on the planets have expanded greatly under direction of Mechanicum and Administratum.

The process was a process of assimilation and conjoining rather than destruction and the same was true of even the Temples, with them becoming the recruitment hubs for the Warriors of Peace, the legion which this region of the Imperium now fed, armed and provided auxiliaries for. These temples were overseen by their own Abbots but the most senior of all the recruiters left behind was Taskmaster Zhen, a grizzled soldier who had been at the edge of the age in which one was allowed to become an astartes.

Appointed by The General himself to lead the recruitment process and assure that the flow of replacements to the Legion remain uninterrupted. The details were left to him and this meant that the Taskmaster had imposed highly stringent conditions that had altered and changed the entry trials so that all who entered the Temple had to conform to his standards of those who might join the Legion directly. It would not be false to say that under his watch the quality of recruits sent to the crusade had improved but the rate of completion had fallen severely such that it had caused a notable uptick in Imperial Army recruitment just from among these 'failures' as he called them.

A fault of the man remained his pride however and thus when a portion of the Wardens of the Blessed Heart and the Blood Jaguars had arrived in the region looking for recruits he took the chance to reveal some small portion of how a Warrior of Peace is made. Thus they found themselves stood before a field on which some 4 dozen young men toiled in tasks that they found puzzling and had asked Zhen about immediately.

"Your confusion is natural, the Wardens and Jaguars do not come from a culture like ours which speaks of constant refinement and improvement, of a constant vigilance in making oneself the best one can be. These tests are meant to test the willingness of a person to conform, to complete a task that they have been given despite it being futile, pointless or even act against their preferred cultivation style.

Ah yes, an example of that last is over there, that young man in the far corner has focused upon the development of his speed above anything else and thus he has been given the task of lifting, moving and piling heavy stones. An act that will actively build short twitch muscle fibres over time and with these young men having been in the trial for nearly a week he will no doubt be feeling the frustration of his trying to join the temple being a trial that seems to belittle his existing strengths.

This is a test of will rather than body, we can give anybody the physique they need to survive the process of implementation. That is not the challenge as I am sure you know well, no the key is to find those with mental fortitude to do anything and everything they need to do to achieve their goals. Though I see the interest in your faces as to how we go about making sure of the physical abilities of our acolytes as the rise through the Temple. If you follow me I can likely arrange for such to be shown to you….."

The Taskmaster walks his guests through the Temple to an open courtyard with a pool at one end, to the eyes of the Astartes the faint glow of the pool is clear, if one had looked with more….refined senses it would be clear that a power is contained in the pool and locked into certain patterns by the engraved wards in its sides and floor. After a short wait a older young man is walked into the courtyard and adopts a loose meditation pose away from the pool. Looking over and seeing that Taskmaster Zhen is waiting for him his eyes widen in clear shock before he schools his features again and bows his head. Walking forward Zhen asks a simple question of the acolyte.

"How far do you wish to push?"

"As far as the Taskmaster approves."

Looking to his guests a grim smile is visible on the face of the Taskmaster at the request made of him and he adopts a posture before the man who lies back to the floor arms and legs spread. With an swift exhalation Zhen strikes hard and precisely at the fingers of one hand of the man in rapid succession, cleanly snapping the bones in his hand under the massive force of his astartes body, though something is clearly held back. Under what must have been massive pain the breathing of the acolyte speeds up momentarily before returning to the deep breaths of meditation.

"You see, the Temples of Han all house several of the pools you see to your right…." Zhen's words are interrupted by him snapping the bones and rupturing the muscles of the same arm as the hand he had brutalised. "....the pool is filled with a water that contains the pure Qi, that has been contained and guided into a healing pattern, it will increase the healing speed of any placed within it thousands of time over and of course the human body is designed to strengthen as it grows. This allows are acolytes to imbue themselves with their most recent strength as they heal, so their strength in Chi and their body become one and the same. Of course the more of your body you break before you enter the more you strengthen, hence my breaking of this acolytes flesh."

As his words finish the Taskmaster has somehow managed to simply and cleanly strike the his way across most of the body of the young man and with a final double handful of strikes he stops his blows and carefully gathers the body of the acolyte. Striding across to the pool he lays the man on a step carved into its edge for this purpose and to those observing it would be visible as the destruction of flesh begins to nit itself together, the man's body being slightly, but obviously larger and more defined than it had before he entered the pool.

"This was that man's second entry into the pool, we seek all of those who would join the legion to undertake this once per stage of cultivation they have achieved with your average legionnaire enduring three breakings and those destined for the Iron Monks four or even five. It is rumoured that The General himself undertook at least seven of these breakings with the last one requiring the efforts of all the elders of the capital world of Qin itself! Of course this method would not be suitable for all but if you had any Qi sensitives, I believe they would be those destined to be Librarians in your legions it might be possible for them to undertake such a journey…."

 

[Mortis Nuntius]

Thrice Damned.​

The process of becoming an Astates is a crucible, all impurities are burned away through pain and glory, the Imperial Truth imprinted in every single cell of the neophytes as they offer their humanity and mortality as the first of many sacrifices in service to the Emperor of mankind. Fear, doubt, treachery, impossible vices torn away and replaced with more useful attributes. Yet all three held him in his grip, Erasmus was filled with fear and doubt as he crept through the streets of this broken world like a thief in the night back in the Iron Castrum cities of the Albia of his youth on Terra.

It had been an act of singular madness, a moment of weakness, even now it would be nothing to undo it, strange how the heaviest of treasons could be carried out so swiftly and amount to so little. The fragment of tin and brass weighed less than a bolter round, drowning in the palm of his gauntlet.

Such a small insignificant thing, well matched to the child who had fled with it, a slip of a girl dressed in rags and ashes, braving the promethium flames with nothing but her faith and flesh. Erasmus had marked her through his sights as she had ran into the heart of the conflagration and then again in surprise as she emerged unscathed, bent double and cradling the crude idol that she valued beyond her own life. Erasmus had felt a small fatal swell of admiration then, the first mistake and the seed of his downfall. She may have deluded herself into thinking that some deity had protected her from the flames, but reality caught up with her in the form of bolter rounds.

That should have been the end of it, mortals were frail things the scant months since Erasmus himself had been among their number now seemed a dozen life times distant and the gulf between he and his brothers on the one extreme and the entirety of humanity on the other could hold Galaxies. The Emperor's newest and most potent instrument could shrug off the loss of limbs and liquefaction of organs and continue in their genecoded duty without pause, the same was not the case for those unmodified specimens of humanity, certainly not the malnourished and illshaped dregs of a world cowering in this last termite mound awaiting the end. Yet before his very eyes he had seen the mutilated fanatic drag her shattered form across the floor with one arm, the other clutching something to the heart happily betraying her by decorating the walls and floor with her hot blood.

Erasmus had strode forwards, drawing his combat knife to finish her off, expending additional bolter rounds would have been excessive, in truth a simple stomp from his ceramite heel would have been most appropriate, adequate to save him from himself. But he had been tainted by some twisted sense of respect, and so hefted the girl up like a doll so she may look upon him and be dispatched with a certain dignity. That was his second crime, the enemies of the Emperor deserve neither respect nor consideration beyond their immediate and efficient destruction. Yet he had held her up and looked into those bloodshot eyes, and drowned in her terror and courage.

She howled in a language he did not understand and with an effort that killed her before his sword ever entered her form threw away from him, trying to save it even then, it did not make it far, bouncing off the wall just short of the shattered window, skittering back across the floor towards the pool of blood at his feet.

Erasmus dropped the girl, and began to walk on in the direction of salvation, there was still sounds of fighting echoing in all directions, commands and warcries and screams to a backdrop of bolter fire and buzz chainsword. His brothers were finishing their glorious mission and he was just steps away from rejoining them and saving himself. Just steps, it seemed such a trivial distance in hindsight. Just a few more steps instead of pausing to spare a single glance at the token that the fanatic had judged worth more than her life, it was a crude thing, so painfully simple and small and insignificant. He looked back at the ruin of the girl, her sightless eyes empty of doubt or fear.

He could not say what possessed him to snatch up the token that now rested uneasily in his belt kit, nor why he had closed the girl's eyes with a promise. She was past caring and the lump of metal worthless to anyone except those who would sentence him to death in an instant were it discovered. Yet for just a singular moment as their eyes had met in the last instant of her existence he had seen something of his brothers, of himself in her devotion, the glorious and loving fire of fulfilling one's duty heedless of death or suffering, for a moment the mortal had shared the same place in the galaxy as an Astartes. The Icon weighed mere grams but felt heavier than a dead star as he carried it to safety, anything that could bring about such a thing could not be left to be thrown in a smelter or discarded forever as if it was nothing, something about the notion appalled him.

And so Erasmus had betrayed everything he held dear for a third time and opened himself up to all the terror, doubt, paranoia and uncertainty that he had cast aside with the rest of his humanity to serve mankind was returned to him as he fled back to the safety of his barracks. He would have to find somewhere to hide the icon, but where? Astartes had no secrets, they had no need for hiding places, perhaps in the vents or some storage space? No the menials were forever scurrying underfoot and going about their numerous and inane tasks, they would notice something out of place sooner or later. They were beneath everyone's notice but nothing was beneath theirs.

Inspiration struck him like lightning, he crept no longer, lengthening his stride with newfound purpose until he reached the first transport, encircled by a ring of mortal soldiers, conscripts new to the Emperor's cause fit for second and third line duties and his own purposes.

"You there, what is your name and unit?" He demanded of the most gaudily dressed of the lot.

"Orrus Ragnit of the Jubil Hill Earlies, Sir." Barked their leader sharply, standing tall and proud.

Erasmus thrust the icon towards him.

"Your men have played their part well today, the Emperor's service brings with it many rewards. Take this, a trophy from our victory, carry it forward proudly."

"Of course Sir." The surprised yet clearly honored soldier assured him whilst Erasmus breathed a sigh of relief at the removal of evidence.

If he had any sense he would leave it with these mortals until they were lost to history and his shameful secret with them. Yes that was it, this sorry episode was over, as if it had never happened, a moment of insanity soon to be forgotten without consequence.

 

[SteelWriter77]

Bloodbowl preperations

For several Years members of many different Legions and organizations of the Imperium trained, pushing their bodies and minds to the limits of what they could be capable of. And now, it was becoming clear that they would unleash the fruits of this training.

Bloodbowl was coming, a chance for the members of the Imperium's best warriors to face off in the arena of sport, already several teams have made it to the Grand stadium of Terra, and while tragedy has kept the Emperor from proclaiming the games to begin, it stands to reason it would arrive soon, giving time for others to send their own teams for glory and honor.

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Machines of the Mind

Even as the forges of the legions were not to the same standard as the Martian Cult, they still were more than enough to aid the Primarchs in creating weapons and tools for their Legions. Such as the Coldiron Cages Primarch, Lady Varil, who had spent many a week working closely with her daughters to try and create new ways for their Legion to aid the great crusade.

First made was the as named by the Imperial citizenry who saw the objects "Crystal Candles" dark purplish crystalline seals upon their armor or accotramounts upon their staffs. While the common Imperial would not know their purpose, to the Coldiron Cages, these Candles would become well known and respected symbols. They were created to be a means of redirecting miscasted powers of the Warp, shattering the crystal but leaving no lasting damage to the meterium or the caster.

However, their complex nature and innate need for the Coldiron's unique binding seals leaves them unable to be utilized by other Legions.

The second made would be a machine utilizing the unique properties of those who carry a Pariah gene, or as they are more commonly known "Blanks" It was to be a helm which would amplify the effects of innate abilities and direct them, the hope being to create a more effective means for combating Psykers with the Legion's abundance of Blanks.

And while nothing officially came out of the attempts, whispers speak that odd figures would meet with the Primarch about these Helms, officials of some kind bearing the mark of the Regent, but never leaving a name that matches any records.
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Project Soylens

Field Notes: J/4-4

There was a sense of trepidation with the commencing of this project, the results of Anteater still fresh in the minds of many. But we had to see if the regenerative aspects of the Ork race could make for a vital cattle species. Several groups were created to test various Orkoid sub-races and their potential long term effects of consumption.

Within the first two days of consuming orkoid flesh, no major changes occurred, the groups tested positive in their health evaluations and their mental states were un compromised. After five days progress continued with some subjects simply complaining that the taste seems to have changed, becoming more bitter and a texture of tough leather. Tests upon the groups showcased no major changes other than a higher concentration of copper in their bodies.

After ten days the subjects had to be forced to eat the meat and became visibly disgusted at the sight of it, nearly vomiting after each bite, other than the near sickness of the subjects, no physical symptoms have occurred and their mental state has dropped in regards to having to continue to eat the meat.

After fourteen days, several subjects became sickly and ill after consuming their breakfast portion of the Orkoid meat. A study on the sickly subjects has found that after fourteen days of consuming nothing but Orkoid based meat, the subjects own bodies start to undergo a negative reaction akin to extreme food poisoning and advanced malnutrition. Rigorous study upon the ill subjects has also shown that over time the consumed meat will activate the body's defense systems after enough had been consumed, leading to a biological and psychological repulsion at the mere thought of consuming the meat.

A theory that had been passed around to the reason for this change was from the high amount of copper inside the orkiod bodies being fed to the subjects, and several different meal plans for the differing human phenotypes are being created so that some use may come from Ork infested worlds.

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Project Kindergarten

Field Notes: A/Y-1Q

While I may had consider this project to be beneath my notice, i must say the societal and psychological data collected from observing the Viridans Minutae (Layman's: The Snotling) has been fascinating, as already observed they are a far less violent than their far larger kin and far less cunning like the Greatchin.

Though the acquisition of these beings has been a trying one, leading to the discovery that all Orkiod species carried the spores of their other subtypes, meaning it would be inadvisable to let even a weak Minutae walk freely on any world not already infested with Ork life.

When we began our study on this subtype the ones captured and set lose in an enclosure we found to begin their own pseudo society, tending to the spores they left behind and creating what would not be unusual on a feral world for a burgeoning beginnings of crop cultivation. No matter what stimulus given to the Snotling they would seem to ignore it in favor for their growing of fungus and other Orkoid based life, even as the ones they grew killed them or were killed by our agents to prevent a containment breach.

For now any we bring out of the enclosures seems to simply attack with animalistic-like behavior and no amount of training seems to stick with the simplistic creatures.

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Search for the Lost

To the many of the vast Imperial Legions, the loss of one Mad child was inconsequential, they still had their duties to perform and no matter the bonds of blood running in their veins, they could not spare the resources to find one soldier when hundreds of worlds still required aid.

However some would not hold this belief, Adaam of the Skull Legion being one. He read and heard the reports of his wayward son and came to a conclusion of both kindness and pragmatism, he would not interrupt his Legion's advances, nor would he leave a son to die. So he and his inner circle would create a team of his sons to locate the lost Gregor to either bring him back to cure what madness ails him...or to grant the Emperor's peace.

At first the team send had their work cut out for them, the only leads being that their lost brother had taken a Cosmo Corsair small craft, such things are unlikely to enter the warp so they had searched for nearby worlds, finding but one that held human life and civilization they first left for the world of Indigo V, a small Agri world that nearly fell to the Ork empire before the Crusade came to protect the planet, the newly established Loyal world would be able to point the team to the direction of their quarry, who had arrived months prior and had managed to get off world onto a vessel of colonists heading to the world of Darkwood.

The world of Darkwood was an empty forested world of giant trees being the world's namesake for the almost black wood of the world, upon arrival the colonists and new governor pointed to where the team could find their lost brother, who had upon arrival to the world fled into the deep woods.

Traversing the darkened forests was no issue for Astartes warriors, the planet's local fauna keeping their distance as the team went deeper and deeper, eventually after what seemed like days, they would find Gregor.

His Armor bore the marks of battle against beast uncounted, his stature was unmoving and focused out into the deepest parts of the forests, bodies of various monsters and beasts of the planet layed around him as his sword dripped with fresh blood, but yet still he spoke to his approaching brothers.

"Such a place is unworthy of your purity brothers, leave now, my vigil is not yet complete." His voice had changed, no longer was he the young warrior that proclaimed to the old tales of knights so fondly, now his voice was hoarse and clearly broken, signs of overuse from screams of battle.

"Gregor…you have your mind, we have come to bring you back to lord Adaam." spoke the leader of the team, one Sly Ketagir

"No, my atonement has to be reached." spoke Gregor plainly.

"Atonement...brother what do you mean?"

"Atonement for my treason and madness, I have given myself this task of keeping the world safe in the shadows, fighting the monsters that dwell in the shadows so close to the Eye, so that the innocent of the Imperium can grow old with families, the purpose I was meant to serve but sullied the chance to do so in the light."

Gregor turned to face his Brothers, stabbing the sword into the ground and glaring behind his near broken helmet. "Tell our father if you must, I cannot stop you from this, I am unworthy to interfere with what he decides, but know this Brothers, I have my duty here and i will not leave until I have atoned or death has taken me." His voice carried with it the conviction of a man knowingly dooming himself, but the members of the Skull Legion knew that he would fight any that tried to take him from his self inflicted task.

So the Team left their brother to his self appointed duty, informing their lord and father what they have learned and keeping their word to their brother that none of the colonists would know of the beasts, letting them continue in blissful ignorance of the monsters that stalked the dark, being fought by their lonesome brother.

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Terror of the Skies

Upon the world of Eon VI, a new terror for the enemies of mankind was being forged, the Crimson Lords had commissioned from the Forge World a new Aircraft. Using the designs taken from fallen Eldar aircraft and a need for specific uses for the Crimson Lords, the Techpriests of the world created a sleek aerial combat and bombing based aircraft for the Legion, named the Scyth for it's curved almost blade like design.

 

[AMTurtle]

Burying the Unseen Hatchet
Joint IC with @triumph8w ​

Trade King Dmitri had once said that sometimes just declare peace with your enemies, it will confuse the hell out of them. To declare peace with an enemy Minreva didn't even know that confused her. She had tried to piece together her relationship with Starscream and the Star Knights through asking her aides and advisors. It was difficult to discuss this matter with them, how do you reveal to them that the world they know is not the same as the one she knew. The relationship between the two legions was positive both having a similar mindset in the Crusade requiring lightning fast offensives to break the enemies of mankind with Legion Master Hamel expressing interest in their methods. The Corsairs of course had no issue "borrowing" ideas so long as they were worthwhile. That was the reason that Minerva told her staff for this visit, with the Ork threat having been halted in the south the Corsairs looked to be heading northward and the Star Knights were along the way might as well say hello. The visit was unannounced to the Star Knights, better to witness these Star Knights unprepared than to see what this Starscream would produce for her viewing. Standing aboard the bridge of the battleship Ole Duraside Minerva signaled for the communications officer to give a message to the Nemesis overlooking its conquest.

" Trade Queen Minerva of House Jinkov, Proud Host of Port Tortuga, Ensurer of Good Vibes, Kraken of the Void, Friend of All Merchants and Commander of the Emperor's Seventh Legion the Cosmo Corsairs requests the presence and company of the commander of the Emperor's 20th Legion the Star Knight, Lord Starsceam."

The Star Knight fleet hung in orbit of their latest conquest, the mighty battle-fleet centered around the dark dagger that was the Nemesis. While much of the legion fleet was in the blues, reds, and grays of the Seventeenth legion the Nemesis itself was a dark, deep purple. Angular and sharp compared to most other Gloriana's, it seemed to live up to its name. For a few minutes there was no reply–the Star Knight fleet simply stared at the Ole Duraside. Then, the crackle of the vox.

"Lord Starscream bids the Trade Queen welcome." The voice said, likely that of a mortal member of the bridge crew. "He invites Trade Queen Minvera aboard the Nemesis, so they may discuss as siblings."

The shuttle ride over was silent with the Corsair honor guard waiting at attention, their normally jovial Primarch was deep in contemplation. As the party departed the shuttle into the landing bay the guards stood in formation on each side of the exit ramp while their leader draped in her iconic fur cape descended overlooking her welcoming party.
In the Nemesis dark hanger room stood a small party. Arrayed before the Corsair's were a dozen Seekers armed and armored–and at the center of them was Starscream. Clad in a white and black jumpsuit with a flowing red coat and blue gloves, the primarch proved a wiry, colorful figure. His frame was thin for a primarch, long, sleek black hair fell to his shoulders that seemed at once natural yet carefully maintained. His skin was pale, which made his red eyes stand out all the more on his angular, sharp face.

"Trade Queen." The primarch–Starscream, said with a thin lipped smile. His voice was an odd mix between deep and high pitched, leading to an almost scratchy sounding voice. "What an unexpected pleasure. What brings you this far north? Is it to mourn for Axios? I assure you the Imperium will revenge itself upon his foul killers. Not a stint nor hair will remain of them."

Minerva raised her eyebrow upon hearing his voice, why did he have to sound like that? Walking towards him she responded," I have come for many reasons but yes the death of Axinos is one of the matters I have come to discuss. Congratulations are in order my Legion Master has spoken very fondly of your campaign, proving the methods of our Legions can be effective despite… our critics. Let them sit in their bunkers. We shall move the Emperor's standard farther than they ever could."

Leaning into his ear, " Perhaps we could discuss the matter of our dear departed brother alone without prying ears?"

With a nod, Starscream turned on his heel and made for the exit of the hanger, throwing a red-eyed glance over his shoulder. However with his departure the Seekers stayed. Together the two primarchs went through the guts of the Nemesis passing menials and astartes alike, all of whom bowed. In short order they found themselves in an isolated dining room located deep where the menials lived–but was far too luxurious for them.

In the center of the wide room was a massive round table made of oak, sat upon a rug of silk. It was surrounded by nineteen oak chairs, each clearly fitted for a primarch and bearing a number. Starscream took a seat not on one of these chairs, but a throne made of obsidian. He motioned without a word to the chair that bore Minvera's number.

He is a crownless king, she thought sitting down in her chair while along him to sit in his little throne. He has ambition. The question is does his grasp exceed his vision? Petty primarchs would have been insulted by this display but Minerva cared not for the theatritics putting her feet upon the table and leaning back so the front legs stood up in the air. Her counter show began as she pulled out her pipe and began stuffing it with its contents for silent moments before taking out the light and taking a long inhale from it with a purple smoke rowling upwards towards the ceiling.

" I have heard Memnon's case on the death of Axinos, I agree and disagree with our dear brother. Malcador I do not believe ordered the death of Axinos, it's a move far too bold for him. He enjoys his games of chess the murder of a Primach is too big a play and he would not send such a bumbling oaf as Savnok to do it. His homeworld burns due to his sheer inability to rule, this is not the person Malcador would trust. I do however believe those same factors of being a bumbling oaf is why Savnok on his own decided to murder our brother! Stabbing him in the back at the height of their campaign and to like a deranged maniac making up some story about some xenos able to kill a primarch? Мудак! Who is to gain the most from Axinos's death but Savnok?!"

Slamming her fist into the table to illustrate her anger at the bald one's latest crime.

" So the question is Lord Starscream, what are your thoughts on this travesty?" Pointing towards what would have been Axinos's seat likely never having been used by its intended user and never would be.

In the low gloom of the room, red eyes burned.

Shadowed by his black hair, Starscream peered at Minerva in silence. His face was alike to the grand statues of the primarchs on Terra, a flat unemotional plane. Then, he raised a thin eye-brow. "Well, straight-forward aren't we?" His face slackened from its cold features, his lips twitching upwards as he leaned forward. "These are dangerous things you speak of, sister. Officially Axinos has been tragically slain by the foul and perfidious xenos. Sealing not only their end as a species, but the complete destruction of all their works so that naught remains."

He leaned back, his red eyes peering at Minerva. "Officially, of course."

The smile fled from his lips. His face tightening in displeasure. "You wish my thoughts, dear sister? Very well, since you've spilled your own treasons…"His fingers tapped on the oak table, steadily drumming on its surface. "One does not need to be an able ruler to be an able hatchet-man. The opposite, most likely. Should Malcador think such, then this becomes complicated. If he doesn't, well." Starscream gave a light shrug. "Not to speak ill of the dead, but I must admit my own distaste for Axinos. That said: He was one of us. He was a primarch in service to the Emperor, the Imperium, and humanity. If Savnok feels justified enough to kill him, then I do not see him stopping save for if the Emperor makes him…or some other power."

The mood certainly changed when all Minerva had been grumbling but Starscream had surpassed her or had he?

" What other power could there be? There is no rival to the Imperium so they could not stop Savnok's quest to murder those who displease him. Are these your treasonous thoughts spilling out? Speak carefully brother, you never know when you are being listened to."

Starscream barked a laugh. "Treasons beget treasons, dear sister. What you yourself have suggested, the very idea that Savnok could kill Axinos, that a primarch could turn on primarch…" He let the silence settle, filling the large, empty room. Then, he shrugged. "Well, we are but two siblings mourning for a brother in privacy are we not? But consider this, sister. A primarch can kill a primarch, but primarchs can restrain a primarch. Savnok has overstepped his bounds and remit. I shall not trust him or his ilk near myself or my own. Will you?"

So the two spoke for a time on this matter.

 

[ZealousThoughts]

The Standard of the 3rd Banner Army​

The complement of the Imperial Army attached to the Fifth Legion are mostly taken from within the Greater Han Prefecture of the Imperium and as it is wont to do this has lent these forces a particular cultural bias in the standardised uniforms, equipment and tendencies. In the Han regiments there was the formation of the ground side regiments being organised into 'Ten Banner Armies' each of these Armies is made up of two Battle Groups and two Navy Groups. These forces have been designated this was in replication of the old 'Banner Army' system of the ancient Qin which The Jade General had read on in the oldest writings in the Monastery of the Absolute Dao.

​

These banner armies are the basis of the military contribution of the Han Prefecture but they also form the basis of the society of the prefecture outside of the temple-monastery system which fed the Fifth Legion itself. This meant that entry into the legion often broke the mold of the destined path of candidates and made this path the most popular one to be followed by a large swathe of the male Han population. Entry into these banner armies was seen as 'elite' and offered the families of members and former servicemen greater status than the general population which those outside of the support structure of the Ten Banners and the Legion were organised under the blanket of 'Green Standard'.

The roots of this system comes from the organisation that The Jade General was forced to implement upon the disparate Han worlds and nations that numbered in the hundreds when taking into account the splintered nature of the people's upon each of the planets in the prefecture before his arrival. As such he undertook to organise these nations first of all into 'Battalions' which grouped five nations on a specific planet into a grouping with ten of these being made into a company. The total companies on a planet would create a battalion with ten such planets contributing a full Banner Army. With the Han Prefecture containing upwards of 100 liveable planets this lent itself to ten full armies with planets with a smaller population being grouped into larger 'Army Groupings').

An Unnamed Soldier from among the Banner Armies
​

The average soldier in these auxiliary forces is outfitted to a level towards the top of the Imperial Army technology styles with flak armour and helmet as standard and access to a range of esoteric and unusual weapons including small arms. These include the use of larger lasguns than is standard with the larger size and weight allowing a larger punching power. Much like the Warriors of Peace themselves the Banner Armies pride themselves on a mastery of conventional warfare as a whole rather than a singular area of strength. This means that whilst there are armies that are better at every aspect of warfare in its myriad forms there are few that can match the Banner Armies over a full campaign.

This strength is rooted in the following of an ancient text popular among all of Han culture but used most fervently in warfare, the text of the great philosopher Sun Se known as 'The Perfect War' this treatise speaks of many different rules for successful warfare. Some of the best known tenants from the text are as follows;

• "Quickness is the essence of the war."
• "What the ancients called a clever fighter is one who not only wins, but excels in winning with ease."
• "There are roads which must not be followed, armies which must not be attacked, towns which must not be besieged, positions which must not be contested, commands of the sovereign which must not be obeyed."
• "In battle, there are not more than two methods of attack–the direct and the indirect; yet these two in combination give rise to an endless series of maneuvers."

As is often the case with such texts the exact meaning of the book is down to the reader and it is thought that The Jade General has already written down his thoughts on how this can be applied to modern galactic warfare. Officers within The Banners having already received a copy of such have thus far into the Great Crusade not attempted to spread these thoughts, thinking that it would be impolite to push onto others opinions on their tradition. With the spread of various Imperium wide efforts from the Skull Legion's text to Bloodbowl a growing portion of the Auxiliary have begun to petition The General to release his thoughts on 'Conventional Warfare in the Great Crusade' to the wider Imperial Army.

 

[SteelWriter77]

Findings of the Gryphons

As they have traveled across the stars, the Crimson Gryphons have found and collected several strange artifacts and devices, looking to deepen his understanding of the galaxy and potential threats, Khaldeon, Primarch of the Crimson Gryphons has ordered his greatest minds and most loyal of sons to uncover what they can and take what can be of use.

Firstly the remaining beasts of House Dios, attempts to perhaps train and breed the monstrous beasts to serve the Legion bears little fruit, the monsters without their Eldar masters are feral and lash out at any that comes close. But in the meantime the Apothecaries have found plenty of works about the cultivation of such xenos animals, while far crueler than the methods used to train the Griffins of the Legion, they are no doubt an interesting look into the potential applications of cultivating new branches of the genus. However some of the original documents have gone missing in recent time, so far no suspects have been found.

Secondly the Legion's best minds would ponder over both the devices and the broken pillar so similar to the one upon their new homeworld, with the devices they would find they act as both a construction device and weapon, using a energy like blast to cut stone and other objects into geometric shapes, while the material and exact means to make these devices is unknown, their strange nature does provide an interesting glimpse into a Xeno race that valued art and weaponry to combine both.

The Study of the Broken pillar would not reveal a star chart like the other had, but instead it seemed to provide an incomplete process of constructing something, if the designs were to be taken at face value, it seems it was the process of creating an opening into another realm to traverse great distances.

Thirdly, the Lord of Thunder Sahzar Nizmot, leader of the Thunder Speakers would be conducting his own studies, using the pillar found by the Legion on the world of Azulii it would lead him and a team of his brothers to various sites across the Imperium, places of isolation and strange connections to the Warp, first is the broken world of Eternia, the world of the Skull Legion, finding nothing amidst the broken world and not wanting to risk angering the still watchful eyes of the Skull Legion who allowed a small investigation, they would leave to the second and final world of their chart.

When approaching the final world of their chart, they would be stopped by a Star Knight Patrol, tensions between the two groups would be evident as the Crimson Gryphons demanded to investigate a nearby world that has become known to them, and the Star Knights denied any further exploration for matters of their own Legion's investigations.

Soon word would arrive to both Primarchs of this matter, leaving it to them to decide on the outcome.

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Wardens Hospitaller

Across the Imperium, Cirogens and medics of all kinds are finding themselves being recruited into the Wardens Hospitaller, given a vast sum of knowledge and resources to perform their medical works. Taking the symbol of the Angel's wings as their own, they travel across the Imperium to dispense their cures and aid to the many beleaguered and weary peoples of the Imperium.

The new order of healers and their resources begin to make their names known across the southern Imperial Space, across the many different fronts one can find these black and white clad healers tending to the still fighting soldiers, of course with this duty comes the expectation of defending themselves, a manner the newly christened defenders of these Healers would perform with extreme dedication, the Hospitaller Knights would let none attack their charges, for to do so would be to stain their honor and them very being to the eyes of the Angel who had freed them.

These Hospitaller Knights were formed out of many who the Wardens had freed when they had faced the foul Eldar, Orks and Slavers of the west, now finding their means to repay this freedom with their lives and service to the mortal agents of their Angel.

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Refinement of the Imperial Army

After the trials of the Federation War and the prospect of even more grueling tasks awaiting the Imperium in the stars, the idea of looking to improve not just the Astartes warriors, but the common Soldier of the Imperium is not an unusual one. So it would come as no surprise that the Primarchs would seek to add their own ideas to the growing improvements of the Imperial Army, such as a new Codex for the leadership to utilize.

This codex penned by two Primarchs, Adaam Primus of the Skull Legion and Memnon of the Bronze Shields, taking from their findings and the strategies employed during the Federation War and Twinfist War, using hindsight and the tactics seen by various Imperial Generals to condense into a new book for such brutal warfare

In addition, Adaam would also continue to create a third Volume of his expanding collection of self published Codex Eternia's, with the newly discovered Primus Battle Tank as the main focus, greatly aiding efforts for soldiers to be trained with this new class of Tank and offering a expansion of ideas for Mechanized combat in general. Highlights of brave heroes of the Imperial Army and the Astartes during these conflicts would also be present, with either their own quotes or the memories of their soldiers if they had sacrificed all for the Imperium.

But of course, the First Legion does not stop with just another Codex, their Primarch so willing to embolden the connection between the common man and the Astartes Legions, devises a new system for several of his Legion's Chapters, they would form liaison teams, Astartes tasked with working together with a regiment of Imperial Soldiers, these ten man teams would be split into two duties as they worked closely with the Imperial Army they have been assigned to. First is to train the mortal humans to become the best they could, while none of them could ever match the level of warfare an Astartes would be accustomed to , they would no doubt become some of the best humanity has to offer against the Xeno's threat. The second task would be to fight alongside these regiments in their own operations and to treat them as they would treat their own brothers.

As of now this has been completed with the Skull Legion's own Auxiliary and contained within the sixteen battle groups are sixty two teams of those who willingly requested this new task.

In smaller news, a new part of a soldiers moral kit has been added in the form of a collection of poems about the glory of war and the bonds of brotherhood, written by the Primarch of the Crimson Gryphons, Khaldeon.
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The Imperial Traders

Long has the exploration of the wider galaxy been consigned to two forces aligned with the Imperium, the Explorator Fleets of the Mechanicum and the Rogue Traders wandering the stars. But both have often worked to their own interests away from the Imperium, to many in the Imperium this can not continue, chief among them is the Primarch of the Ninth Legion, he sees the issues of over reliance on those not completely aligned with the Imperium, so with great haste he began to find other like minded individuals within the Imperium's Governmental systems to create a new branch of the Imperium, one that would serve as explorers and means of first contact that are completely loyal to the Imperial Truth and Emperor.

The Ninth Primarch and this group would work tirelessly to gather a proper amount of ships, convincing captains of the naval divisions to protect these new explorers and talking with the various Navigator Clans. But after months of effort and secretive maneuvering, the first fleets of the Adeptus Ad Astra ready for their first tasks.
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Tournament of the First

In the recently conquered territory that once housed the greatest Ork menace recorded by the Imperium, Castle Greyskull was in full preparation as the First Legion readied for a historic event. A full scale tournament of the Legion's warriors to determine their champion.

The first rounds will be between each of the chapters, finding the ten best from each company who then will duel to find their Chapter's champion, this Champion will move on for other events while the nine other warriors would be given roles as Chapter's banner and standard carriers, known as a "Banner Guard" a deeply respected role for the Chapter.

The second rounds will occur after time spent training and preparation, each of the Chapter Champions are given personal attention from Adaam and their brothers for training. These fifty warriors would enter into a series of duels between each other, with the winner being declared Legion Champion and given the honor of joining the Praetorians, the Honor Guard of Adaam Primus and those who have proven themselves as the best warriors of their chapters becoming staples as the Champions.

 

[SteelWriter77]

Work in the shadow of the Twin Headed Eagle

The work done to ensure the continuing function of a massive entity like the Imperium of Man is never ending and often requires the loss of moral objections to certain acts. None are more aware of this fact then Malcador, Regent of Terra and advisor of the Emperor, his extensive network of agents and his own workings to keep the Imperium from collapsing under it's own weight can never be truly known, but one facet that is understood by agents of the Cuter Dei.

The Cuter Dei, the secretive elite of the Umbral Watch and more often than not have served as agents of Malcador, serving as both blades in the dark and as unknown aids in missions across the Imperium.

While the Cuter Dei Act in the name of Malcador, their own investigations are also conducted, searching for the two most wanted men in the Imperium Basilio Fo and John Grammaticus, calling upon favors held to many parties to best search the Imperium. At the moment they have only found traces of Fo, Grammaticus's own trial having gone cold decades ago after an explosive showdown between agents of Malcador in the starports of Necromunda. In contrast, Basilio Fo and his mad creations leave a warm trail of bodies for the Cuter Dei to track, finding worlds who have reported strange disappearances and new populations of heavily deformed Abhumans.

The trail seemed to head out of Segmentum Solar and towards the west, unfortunately the rising prominence of the "Gene Cult" has made their work harder to pinpoint true sightings of the mad traitor, as the more outlandish adherents to this growing force have made their own creatures of flesh and modifications to their own bodies that make finding true Fo works akin to a needle in a haystack, the common held belief that this was intentional on Fo's part, both for hiding amongst "Like Minded" peoples and for his own work to be hidden until it was too late.

While all of this occurred, the Primarch Alaric Quadar was being taught to better control and harness his powers of a Psyker, it is unknown the exact nature of what occurred in his training, but none could deny a change was had with the Primarch and how he would lead his Legion.

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Healing Thunder

While the Emperor moved across the Stars, Terra was in the Hands of the Regent Malcador, who ran much of the finer points of government inside the Imperial Palace, a Grand Structure of Gold and artistry the envy of nobility across the Imperium. Guarded by members of the three arms of the Emperor, his personal armies and soldiers that he led personally. The first and most noteworthy would be the Custodian Guard, the personal honor guard of the emperor and his most trusted soldiers, the sight of them is common in and around the Imperial Palace as they work to guard Terra against any unseen threat. The second most common sight would be members of the Silent Sisterhood, not for their large presence, but for their effect on people wherever they go, the silent warriors of the Emperor would draw the attention of all around them as their very existence caused those with souls great discomfort.

But the third and last group, despite their names being carved into the foundation of the Imperium and their legends being told to children before they slept, the Thunder Warriors would have the smallest known presence on Terra, these beings who are the forbearers to the Astartes would be seen in the briefest of instances as they carry one of their own inside a casket to the resting place of their order, the Tomb of Storms, built into the side of Mt. Arrat. The Tomb's entrance would be a brutal edifice of Iron and Stone, decorated in symbols of the Imperium and of the Thunder Warriors own symbol, A Clenched Gauntlet around Lightning. This Site would receive only the dead and those who would pay their respects from the Imperial Family, for even if there were few Thunder Warriors on Terra, one can be sure that those that remain guard their brothers resting place.

The Jade General would arrive to visit said site, while many are restricted to truly see the "resting" place of the Thunder Warriors, Primarchs are among the few who have no such restrictions, almost all of them having visited the Tomb once. But even then they are not without reason to enter the deepest levels, The Jade General had purpose to be here and even the ever loyal Thunder Warriors could not pass up the opportunity of his work being able to be done.

The sight of the inside of the Tomb would be unlike many other sights on Terra, a great hall under the earth, affixed with hundreds upon hundreds of solid gold caskets of interlocking metal restraints and a slight coating of ice upon many of them. Seveitors can be seen gently chipping away ice from many Caskets, however he knew the truth, these warriors were not dead, but lost in a deep madness.

Before him stood four behemoths, the eldest of the interred Thunder Warriors, legends of the Imperium's past set to guard their fallen brothers forever more. He could feel their gaze upon him, watching his movements as his guide brought him to the recently fallen.

To him, one who has studied Chi and manners of healing the body and spirit, he needed to see the differences between the three, what made the ones who remained still stand firm and what made the fallen become monsters. The Dreadnoughts would also be included for their unique properties, perhaps interning the afflicted would cure them or at least bring them some semblance of peace.

He would stand in front of the most recent of the Thunder Warriors to fall to madness, letting his Internal sight guide him as he saw not the bands of Dark Qi he was expecting, but…something more like the Pure Qi inside of the fallen was seeping out, slowly yes but at a constant rate, looking to his guide, he saw no such seeping, merely the winds of Qi swirling around like they do all others, turning his gaze to the Dreadnoughts behind him, he would see something truly unique, the Dreadnoughts had a Stagnant flow, the internal mechanisms had halted the flow of Qi that would degrade the body, soul and mind

He knew that if he could not do something to aid the Thunder Warriors, as this was his promise to the Thunder Warriors themselve, if he could not do so his father would be informed of yet another breach in trust. Pushing such thoughts away, he began his work, time seemed irrelevant to the Jade General, he could feel it's passage, but in his state all became noise to him.

Once he seemed to be done, he felt his very being nearly give way to exhaustion, motioning to the Thunder Warrior to open the Casket, weapons raised from the Dreadnoughts, ready to both seal their brother back or to deliver judgment upon the Primarch.

Instead of a screaming berserker, what came out of the Casket was…unlike other Thunder Warriors, all seemed to possess an ill temperament only controlled by their loyalty to the Emperor, but this one seemed of a far more cold nature, much like the Custodes in a way. It did not take long for this Thunder Warrior to be taken to the Imperial Palace, for further investigation, and while the damage to the Soul seemed to be halted and thus the temperament was stabilized, the deterioration of the body and mind still seemed to be counting, albeit at a slower pace without the Thunder Warrior doing all he could to destroy others and himself.

Truly the Jade General had taken the first steps needed to repair the fallen Thunder Warriors, an achievement that has given him new honor amongst the Thunder Warriors, Custodes and soon his Father.

 

[SteelWriter77]

Umbral Research

While it is common knowledge of the Mechanicum's rather strict hold on the technologies of mankind and how to pry their secrets for use in countless matters, the Astartes of the sixth legion often showcase their own skills in those matters.

Firstly, born from the understanding of the War for Rallas, sonic weapons and combat pheromones began development for fighting sightless creatures and xenos with above human sensory organs that rely on sound or smell. This would be the mindset in creating three new types of weapons for their legion, first would be the Rallas Choir Guns, handheld sonic guns firing blasts of focused sound.

The second weapon would be the Rallas Scream Cannons, much larger heavy sonic weapons not as focused as the Choir Guns but far more powerful. And finally, the Rallas Pitch Grenade, not an explosive weapon like other grenades, but one containing immense sound to deafen any in its range normally, and to its intended targets it will be a deadly weapon.

Of course the Umbral Watch would not be done with just sonic Weapons, their forges and workshops continued to plan and create many new tools for their use. Such as Umbral Bond Gel, a new adhesive for capturing targets of note or subduing their enemies.

Or the Shadow Skin Armor, a stealth based armor made for their scouts and elusive Cuter Dei that almost makes those who wear it blend into the very shadows, only adding to the skills of stealth the Umbral Watch has been cultivating with its members. Ordered by the Primarch would be the creation of powered armor able to be used by normal humans, while not of the quality of the Astartes armors, this Black Guard Armor

The auxiliary of Rallas would not be the only ones to receive new types of Armor, for in the Forges of the Umbral Watch, alongside the Shadow Skin, would be made the MK IV Quadar Armor. Unlike the other two Armors to bear this mark of generation, the Quadar Armor was made for the kind of work done by the Umbral Watch, it's sensors able to detect the flow of the Motive Force around them, several systems and methods to hijack enemy mechanical systems for the wearers own use. And finally a better set of servos and mobility options for stealth based operations.

The Auxiliary of Rallas would continue to be strengthened, as the military application of the recently rediscovered power loader would be utilized and the Rallas Power Crusher was made, a exo-suit the size of an Astartes Terminator that held one crushing claw and one Astartes Grade Bolter weapon, this newly developed weapon would soon begin to help further bridge the gap between human and Astartes.

Of course the final project and most worked on by far would be the Combat Automata developed first by the Primarch and finished by his sons who he had trusted to complete the project. They would be called Cybernetica Umbra and while some similarity to the Mechanicum's own combat automata could be seen, the coloration and markings would mean they could never be mistaken.

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Project Peridot

Field Notes K/8-0

The final experiments to be performed with our current batch of Greenskins would be the one i find the most potential for things to go wrong, we still are unsure of the exact nature of the Orkoid mind and it's own effects on humans and Astartes, but i began the test and altered a select batch of Astartes warrior to appear as Greenskins before letting them into the testing site to see if Astartes infiltrators could infiltrate and usurp the ork hierarchy.

The project ran for a single week, at first it all seemed to be going smoothly. But when the reporting Astartes began to showcase more aggression in their reports and in displays of strength among the Orkoids, I had pulled the plug and ended the Experiments. Psychological tests were conducted on all members and the findings confirmed that hormonal levels indicating aggression and a dulling of the senses were occurring in the Astartes masquerading as Greenskins.

The group that had embarked on the test are still exhibiting odd quirks that make me consider the possibility of a wider effect of the Ork's own manipulation of the Warp, further study of this will be required.

It is of my opinion that further experiments looking to infiltrate the Greenskin hierarchy wait until further testing can be done to determine why such psychological effects are present in Astartes and if there can be a way to mitigate or deny these effects outright.

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Prosperine Ice

Prosperine had found the world of Zamyat to be a interesting if frustrating place, her time spent studying the stations the nomadic people clung to for survival were in desperate need of repairs,but the supposed "Lady" of the world, a Primarch is supposed to bring their world into greatness, just as her Great Grandfather had done to Stormgrad and what she intended to continue with her own plans.

But she came to Zamyat to see if this world could answer some of her own historical questions and perhaps see the wider Imperium before Stormgard becomes a center for much of it.

Apparently her visit coincided with a inspection of one Vera the Shroud, a high ranking member of the Coldirons who saw Prosperine's visit as needing extra security then just one Astartes of the Wardens, ordering six others to join her on her "Sightseeing" as they put it, how irksome, but at least their combined physical strength allowed for better study of the stations. For a time all seemed stable with their group, Prosperine even began to learn more about the Coldirons and their rather fascinating inner Legion culture with no Homeworld to speak of, but such thoughts and words would be interrupted.

A great crack was heard and the ground began to shift suddenly, and the ice below them fell away to a great abyss. The fall was short,but she knew that the Warden known as Delphi had shielded her with their body from most of the damage. When all seemed to settle, the seven Astartes and their charge found themselves in an extensive ice cave network, the walls of Ice keeping the Vox link from being established and to attempt to climb out would prove fruitless as the ice crumbled under their weight.

With no other option they began to walk, hoping to find a point where the Vox Link could be connected and rescue be brought. Along the way many old and intact structures of human design could be seen in the Ice, this having confirmed to Prosperine that Zamyat was once far more then a barren ball of ice with few stations between the empty ice wastes.

The Ice caves seemed to stretch on for miles, but she was a daughter of Stormguard and would not let herself die of the cold. And while her guards were keeping her from studying the clear human relics as they passed, the Coldirons and Wardens, she kept her mind occupied with taking notes of everything she saw, spires of metal that stretched up to near the very top of the caverns,

As they walked they found more and more wreckage of human make, and the frozen bodies of Orkoid life, some seeming to date back far longer then the historical invasion that the Primarch of this world had fought off. They would continue on, past many more frozen parts of the past until they came upon the path being blocked.

As the Astartes began to clear it away, Prosperine finally had the chance to observe the area in more detail, after some time she spotted what looked to be a large continuous thread of some kind in the ice. The sight was strange, some kind of large rope-like object was embedded in the ice, it's color giving a distinct outline that Prosperine saw, she attempted to get a better look while the Astartes were distracted with the blocked path. Before any of the Astartes could turn to check on Prosperine, light seemed to emulate from the Rope and nearly blinded Prosperine, cracks in the ice was heard as something seemed to be breaking out from beneath them.

The last thing she saw was the ice breaking apart and the sounds of metal rang in her ears as the Astartes screamed.

================

When she next awoke she found herself being tended to by the native humans of Zamyat and the cold glares of her Coldiron Guards who had not fallen with her into the caves.wasting no time they demanded to know what had happened, much to the chagrin of the healers of the Zamyat. For the first time in her life, Prosperine was at a loss for words,however try and she might, she could remember nothing after the screams and ice.

The Astartes team continued to scour the same tunnels she fell into but found no trace of the missing seven Astartes, one known as Zagreus apparently searched the tunnels looking for his sisters for over three days. But nothing could be found, no clues and no signs of where Prosperine had come out of to be found wandering the ice wastes.

She would leave the world of Zamyat soon, the feeling of cold not leaving her as she looked to the frozen world with warm people, truly afraid, she has lived in Stormgard and experienced all the stories of her family's struggles, she set in motion a plan that many would balk at it's apparent cruelty, she has seen the true depths of depravity in the eyes of her world's deepest denizens. Yet Zamyat held a different darkness, one she fears may haunt her for the rest of her days.

 

[SteelWriter77]

(Written by @Mortis Nuntius , @Princess_Hex , @Another Amoeba , @Hyvelic , @Silverbullet )
​

They rose and ebbed like the tide, countless Vermin washing against the slowly eroding transhuman rock sealing the entrance to the vault. Thousands, tens of thousands at time, shrieking and chittering, scavengeslaves armed with little more than scrap metal and terror, driven forwards by the whips of their masters and their own bloodlust, followed by brutish bonegnawers their appetites as great as their swollen muscles and tombstone teeth, last came the Stormvermin wearing crude powerarmor, a pale shadow of the Astartes they faced but far more numerous, cunning and drunk impending victory. Against them stood a precious few, fewer still after each hour of relentless pressure.

Less than three hundred Astartes had been on world when the call had gone out, they had arrived in drips and drabs, one by one, two by two, squad by squad at most. Some had come mounted on jetbikes others by foot. Their aramanets and rations were what they could carry with them and what their mortal allies could force through in between the increasingly rare sorties as the conflagration above their heads intensified, precious supplies of food and ammunition came with increasingly dire reports of a planet undersiege yet there was nothing to be done but wage their own private war deep beneath the surface.

Brothers and Sisters of four Legions defended the secrets of the ancients and the potential seeds of Stormgard's rebirth. The Eternity Guard, the Umbral Watch, the Wardens of the Blessed Heart and even the mysterious and outright sinister Imperial Revenants fought and died together as bolters ran dry, swords shattered and comrades submerged under great black and grey masses of carnivorous xenos. They fought with skill and ferocity, each in their own style, striking miles deep to the enemy rear at times or mere yards from the entrance to the Vault, for many this would be their final stand, for all of them their finest.

--

The Revenants, clad in blue and upon their shoulders a splash of green. Sorcerers one and all, and bloody. The blood covering them is not their own, it is foreign, alien to them. The twelve stand ready for the next wave. The silence from them broken when their leader speaks. "Each man is a spark in the darkness. Would that we all burn as bright."

The silence is his answer. The sounds of the skaven creatures approached at speeds fitting their kind. The sooner they arrive, the sooner they will die. As the first Rat creature enters the sight of the twelve, they speak as one.

"We,
Broken spears,
Shattered shields,
Come to die."

A slam of their staves hits the ground, and darkness begins tearing into the creatures, rending flesh from bone in ways most agonizing. Although they are not deterred from their approach, and the Revenants do not feel pleasure as they come, only solace that the darkness comes.
"We,
Remnant lost,
Forlorn hope,
Come to die."

The twelve speak out once more, and with a slam of their staves, once more the rats turn upon one another. Their bodies puppeted by the darkness that was just moments ago tearing them apart. Rat fought Rat, and as more died, the army of the dead would grow. But, the rats are not mindless creatures. The monsters came and broke the dead with their bodies and fists.

The dead lay broken and as the hordes approach. The Twelve stand still and as one chorus.

"We,
Carrion-feeders,
Grave-fillers,
Come to die."

A slam of noise hits the ears of the Rat-Beasts and Rat-Monsters, and as it does they feel nothing. For they are nothing, and nothing is. They taste oblivion, as simple as it is.

The rats are repulsed. For now, perhaps they saw a different target that was easier, perhaps they are merely waiting. The Twelve do not know. They do not care. The Twelve speak once more.

"We,
Ruin-children,
Stand ready,
Come to die."

The Twelve become Six. The living tear the power from the dead and add it to their own. There are no burials, there are no rituals, there is only death, and from these deaths, growth. The silence grows ever fonder for them. It is all they have left anymore.

--

The Eternity Guard gave ground in inches, they lacked the flare and daring of their gilded brethren, or the spectacular horror of the Revenants, even the clinical efficiency of their sisters was absent. Instead they ground the enemy down, stubbornly refusing to fall until the dead piled at their feet. They formed the baseline behind which others regrouped, the increasingly blunted edge of the axestroke of the desperate counter attacks that pushed the Skaven back from the precious vault.

This was their world, their past and their future, the neophythes within represented the finest quality of recruit, the secrets of the ancients some measure of redemption for their failure. They would not falter, not fail again. They would die standing.

Allecor roared commands over the din of battle, his voice carrying disturbingly well as the sound of bolterfire dwindled. Hundreds of the vermind fell for each of his battle brothers they managed to overwhelm but the Astartes were outnumbered a thousand to one. Those left to Stormgard were a mix of techmarines, elite warriors and experiences instructors, the institutional brain of the legion, centuries of accumulated experience and ties of brotherhood, and he was leading them to their deaths, each lost tore at his heart but beyond the grief there was something far more terrible, rage.

"These fucking flearidden rodents have forgotten who were are! Remind them!" He ordered, furious at the impudence of these creatures who were no longer too terrified to emerge from their hidden lairs.

"We are the Guardians Eternal!" Answered Sergeant Asmodeus who had once been Equerry to Louis Fer.

"The Emperors own!" Boasted Zagan as he was submerged under a dozen rodents, the miserly quartermaster finally got to use his carefully maintained stock of phosprex grenades in a final act of defiance.

"Sentinels of the Palace," The Old Guard's Flauros intoned, his power axe splitting four Skaven in twain with each swing.

"Defenders of Terra," crackled the Techmarine Vapula as its maniples dissected a gutter rat.

"The Bulwark of mankind!" Lieutenant Seir shouted as his struck true again and again with his bloodied and blunted combat knife, punching through Skaven flesh with brute force.

The Skaven would learn to be afraid again, Allecor vowed if it was the last act of his immortal life. Judging by the sheer numbers of the rodents it just might be.

–

The Umbral Watch entered the fray not as their cousins did with battlecry and bolters roaring in defiance, but in a shower of silent gore as a score of the Legions battle psykers used their arcan gifts to displace themselves into the enemy line and unleash their wrath. Swarms of servo-skulls and automata soon followed and then the main force arrived. Gilded dark armored forms took up positions beside their besieged kin and fusilades of disciplined bolt and plasma drove the vermintide back for a brief time as the line reformed and the Skaven slaves were whipped forward again by their masters. As the Astartes of the Luminaries culled the horde their brothers of the Culter Dei marked enemy commanders and prepared to rip the figurative head and spine from the swarm.

As the chaos enveloped the tunnels cloaked servo skulls and skittering automata crept around to find the leaders of this rabble. Cybermancers mind linked and shared exacting details with their Librarian brothers who prepared a ritual to open a stable gate from their own line into the enemy's rear.

As reality ripped asunder for a moment the twenty Culter Dei swept through it into the tunnels behind the swarm to hunt the masters driving the slaves forward.

-

As the line was pushed back the legions were forced to join as one to halt the loss of ground. The usual aggressive tactics were blunted by the sheer weight of bodies before them. Here, standing beside each other, they could exemplify the unbreaking and unwavering spirit of the astartes and show the vermin that they would never, ever break.

The Wardens of the Blessed Heart fought in silence, eerie perhaps next to their louder brothers, and yet no less tenacious despite that. Even on their internal vox net callout were infrequent, mostly to direct apothecaries to wounded allies. Yet it wasn't a clinical efficiency that was seen from them today but pure desperation and adrenaline.

Shots went wide, reactions slowed, combat performance decreased as the great toll of endless months of action without rest began to take their bloody toll on the daughters of Ahurani. They had worked closely with the Cult of Silence, at best an unorthodox pairing but in their weakened state any shoulder to lean on was a blessing. Now, however, in this stand there was to be no reprieve and the outcome would be determined by sheer skill and ability.

The horde has withdrawn for but a moment. Not long enough to rest, but long enough to reform behind the crude barriers they had erected to give themselves staging room. Then came a roar, and a rush forwards. Still most of the rush were scavengers, slaves, barely fit to sift through trash let alone fight the Emperor's elite, but this time the truly dangerous parts of the attack had been concentrated and refined into a deadly spearhead.

Bone Gnawers, though the name wouldn't be codified until much later. Massive, hulking creatures without reason or subtlety but with the strength to pose a threat to an astartes if their reactions weren't perfect.

The Wardens, directly in the path of the creatures, faltered.

Exhaustion had just done too much, and the danger wasn't recognised fast enough. While many Bone Gnawers were put down by the boltguns of the Wardens before they hit the line it wasn't anywhere near enough. The feral beasts smashed into them, physically breaking into the line as the exhausted astartes were forced into a deadly melee where they held none of the advantages.

The Wardens had never made up a majority of the astartes on the ground, but the gap was still large enough that skaven bagan to pour through, forcing astartes of other legions to fall back lest they be surrounded. The line was shattered.

--
The signal was loud and clear for many, it was time to fall back and regroup. Where each legion shone as a lone star amongst many, it was time to grow into one mass and defend against the unending hordes of beast and pestilence.

The four legions and their survivors would meet at the vault, many carrying the wounded with them as they fell back. Only one group there had no such wounded, and infact did not seemed harmed at all despite the lack of numbers supporting them.

The groups would move fast, but the rats and their ilk would be faster. Picking off the wounded and the brave who sought to protect and save the less fortunate. It was here that the Revenants would declare. "Focus on the regrouping. We will delay them for as long as we can." The sound of the dead lifeless voices of the Revenants appearing on the open vox channel for all to hear, not just their fellow marines. Both a promise and a challenge.

In better times there would have been protests, alternative courses of actions proposed, offers to join what was certain to be a noble death, but things were as they were so all Allecor could spare was a nod of acknowledgement as he hefted Seir upon his shoulders, the latter torn nearly in half by one of the giant rats joining the stream of battered Astartes withdrawing in haste towards the temporary safety of the Vault.

Mitos Drell hefted a wounded Watch member into the arms of a waiting Apothecary as the battlenet rattled of wounded marines, fallen brothers, and remaining munitions. Even with the Revenant's sacrifice they would not hold. The Witch was here though and she and her fell daughters came to rend the scums' very souls from their bodies. He chuckled to himself at the thought of waiting on a Coldiron for rescue as he loaded a fresh magazine into his bolter. Over the Vox he spoke, "A battle for supremacy against many foes is a battle of the best kind. There are few considerations, only those concerning where to place your next shot. It is war in its purest form. So come brothers and sisters and let us show the filth that we are War Incarnate."

Without hesitation, Faidon would begin to walk towards the Skaven hordes, while the remaining five would draw a small dagger from their sides, their standard issue combat knives but seemingly… modified with strange markings on them.

Again, without hesitation the five remaining Revenants would slit their thoughts, killing themselves. Soon after, small balls of darkness would leave the bodies and approach Faidon, entering his chest from behind. As each orb entered, he would flinch.

As the last orb entered Faidon, he would begin speaking. A simple, quaint saying.

"Come forth you old devils,
Bring out your lesser evils
Blight the skies and the land
You'll be met sword in hand"

The tunnels would start to go cold, almost freezing for a brief moment in time. Any without helmets or exposed to the cold could tell that warpcraft was going on, and not something small. Something grand, was about to begin. Soon, all in the immediate tunnels would begin to hear the dead voice of Faidon. But, unlike the usual tone that most Revenants had, there was something different. Something… sorrowful.

"One day your children'll tell
Of the deep and rebel yell,
That on his field so sombre
Conquered host of horror."

Slowly Faidon would begin to raise his left hand, struggling as if something was trying to pull it down. As it finally reached it's position, the psyker unleashed hell, metaphorically of course. Bolts of energy would begin to explode from the hand, each bolt would pierce through each Rat and Beast that it hit. Some would simply erase from what the unacquainted could see, but very few of the bolts would hit a creature and explode.

Each explosion was of energy and gore, as many would find their parts thrown askew from the force of the blast. While bolts continued to pour from his hand, he would raise his staff, the one held aloft in his right hand. Bringing it down a sound of thunder would echo, and with it Fire. Fire would begin to seek the flesh of the Rats and their creatures, licking hungrily at them and their ilk. Not even ashes would remain once the fires left, seeking more of the creatures to reduce to naught but ash.

Yet, it was not enough. It would not ever be enough, for the hordes were limitless and even a Space Marine could fall under the tide, no matter the power they held. This would not stop Faidon however, as he drew more and more upon his foul sorceries to force the Rats to target him, or risk annihilation.

So, Faidon reached further and further into his well of power, and there, he found a thread. Grasping for it, he waited. Looking around to see the situation, he would see very few of the Marines standing with him. Only the healthiest and strongest remained. The rest were preparing defensive positions most likely.

He did not want to die like this. Alone, for while the sacrifice of his brothers would allow him to keep going forward and fighting, he would be alone when he died. None would find him, and his brothers spirits, their power, would rot within his corpse until the end of time.

Returning his focus to keeping the beasts back, his spirit reached for the thread, and with it firmly in his grasp. He pulled.

His arms broke first, shifting as he began to shake. His blood would begin to poison his own body, weakening him. Yet he kept pushing. He was warping, losing himself to the darkness, and there, on the verge of death.

It came.

The bolts of power stopped, the fire died, fleeing before the creature that had come. The Skaven, sensing weakness, would charge. Yet, it was not weakness they found. But a Nightmare.

To outsiders it would look like Faidon was looking at his arms, and gauging the damage. This would change as a chuckle began to emerge from his body. This was not the laugh of a Revenant. This, was something else.

The shadows bent their knees in submission as the voice of Faidon took a mirthful tone. "I… Live?" A dark laugh would break free from the Revenant's body, one that would be interrupted as a particularly bold skaven attempted, and briefly succeeded, in injuring the Marine.

Faidon, or whatever was in his place, tore the rat from it's weapon and threw it into the horde of its fellows. Scorn filled the previously mirthful voice, and with it came one word. "Fall."

And so they did. The skaven and their creatures lived still, that could be seen and heard. But despite the reality, it appeared as if they were puppets whose strings were cut. "I scorn you, creatures of the barrow. You are not worthy of my return, however brief it may be."

One Skaven, would surprisingly begin to stand, albeit weakly. Soon, several more would begin to stand again, and as they did the Revenant would slam their stave into the ground, causing them to fall once more, darkness would begin to creep over them, devouring their flesh and bones until nothing was left.

"You are alone, beasts. There is only darkness for you, and only death for your people. These fools are just the beginning. I will command a great and terrible army, and we will sail to a billion worlds. We will sail until every light has been extinguished. You are strong, children, but I am beyond strength. I am the end, and I have come for you."

He would laugh once more, and speak with a dark, and terrible voice. "Be Not Afrai-'' and the voice was silent. A blade coated in blood would impale the Revenant. A Skaven assassin would have, in the moment of folly and arrogance, impale the possessed marine through their chest from behind. Shrouded in the very darkness that was devouring his fellows. The Marine would fall, not dead yet, but now heavily injured. Perhaps fatally so.

He was not alone, even before his eldritch onslaught had come to an end the Skaven had begun to unleash their latest and most devastating attack, this time it was not a wave of flesh and ferocity but a more vehicular terror. A long line of strange wheel like creations bristling with spikes and dark energy supported by a gun line of strange artillery humming ominously. The blow when it fell upon the retreating Astartes was devastating, dozens were vaporized or horrifically burned by chains of warp lightning and the crude battleline was shredded by the monowheels. Any semblance of coherence and order was obliterated, it was pandemonium. For any other force in the galaxy defeat and destruction were now a certainty, but this was no other force, these were Space Marines!

The Culter Dei were more used than most such extreme and chaotic circumstances and managed to cut small paths for their brothers and sisters in arms to escape through, somehow the handful of surviving wardens emerged stumbling from the conflagration dragging Faidon with them. Small pockets of resistance asserted themselves as the remaining Eternity Guard established a skirmish line wherever the deadly lightning did not reach, some ending their retreat and instead charging forwards to buy precious more seconds.

It was the most beautiful defeat, a miserable miracle. Well over a hundred Astartes had still been outside the Vault when Faidon had mounted his lone assault, more than seventy of them had made it to safety, carried by comrades or dragging themselves forward with the stumps that had been their arms and leg, a testament to their hardiness. But nothing more than a temporary respite, for the Skaven were already massing for their next assault and whilst there were now nearly two hundred Astartes within the vault, after days of fighting those still fit to fight numbered only twelve.

–

Mitos Drell took stock of his fallen comrades and wondered if this was where they'd all die. As he watched the handful of remaining servo-skulls the wounded Cybermancers were using to aid the three Wardens in their efforts to heal who they could he felt a hand upon his shoulder. The Gilded Skull of Chaplain Martensen greeted him as he and Librarian Ulm stepped out of the shadows of a gate.

Mitos frowned as he saw no others of the twenty Culter Dei with them.

"Were you successful?"

"In part, but the vermin scent blood now and no matter how many Shapers and whip slingers we cut down they know their prize is close."

"The others?"

"Dead or missing, the beasts numbered too many and we lost cohesion. The shielding in these tunnels make anything but short range communication impossible."

"Yourself and Brother Ulm should rest while you can. They will find a way in soon."

"That cannot be allowed to happen. If the fighting reaches the interior then win or lose the battle we will have failed. That is unacceptable." Allecor interjected, having approached them, helm in his hand. "We cannot let them breach the vault under any circumstances."

"Then we don't." Came the voice of Melika, hoarse and raspy. There was blood oozing out from her armour, but she was still fit to fight. If only barely. "There is no more room for subtlety or finesse. There are no more questions to answer. We simply will not fail."

"There is one question sister, how can we forestall them long enough?"

"As I said, brother. There is no room for subtlety or finesse. We will go out there, and fight the vermin until the last drop of blood because the people here need us to." Melika's voice had taken on a unique quality, an absolute absence of emotion. "We will win because defeat is unthinkable. We would fail, not only in our mission but our brothers and sisters, people who need us to protect them. Every Warden is trained for what to do when duty calls for them. I know none of you will refuse the call."

The Eternity Guardian seemed to consider this for a time before inclining his head.

"That is obvious, though even a simple plan need not be completely lacking in detail, we can use the remaining bikes loaded with whatever munitions we have left, set them to auto and launch them towards the enemy gun line, perhaps making use of smoke and noise as well. The Rest of us use our speed, attack in small teams, punch through the holes and cause as much chaos as we possibly can." He suggested.

Drell approached them with his two remaining whole brothers at his back as the Cybermancers who remained conscious directed their mechanical familiars to the group. "They can overload the power sources of the Servo-Skulls and Automata and turn them into haywire grenades and charges of a sort. If we can keep the rodents' attention on us they should be able to rush into the enemy vehicles and gun emplacements and stop them tearing us apart."

Allecor smiled grimly. "At least for a few seconds." He looked around at them "But seconds add up to minutes and every minute counts. Its worth doing."

They gathered slowly, coalescing around the entrance, survivors from four legions, three each from the Umbral watch and the Wardens, Faidon standing alone where six should have represented the Revenants and the remaining five from the Eternity Guard. The pits and scratches of their armor were covered in soot and mud and gore, their near worshipfully maintained weapons dulled and battered and grimy, their eyes alight with a spark of the Emperor's own fire dulled and unfocussed, they could not have been more different yet without focus none could be told apart from any other. Without waiting, skaven by the thousand, within scores of their wounded and the surviving neophytes and other mortals, between lay duty and death.

"I never thought I'd die in such a company." Allecor noted as the heavy blast doors opened once more, "nor be so proud to."

"We're not dead yet…Brother.", came Drell's reply.

"That… which is dead can eternal lie, my fellows." Comes the near dead rasp of Faidon. Who, despite all his injuries can still move, albeit barely. Those who can sense the warp can tell that his body reeks of sorcery, as if he is using it to move his broken arms, and weakened legs. Causing more harm, but still not impossible to fight with. "And I am not dead yet…"

"For that we can all be glad, brother." Melika stood ready to go, absolute focus on the task ahead. "So long as we live, we will show the galaxy what a space marine is for."

—

But what came through the doorway was something none of them could have expected. First came the sound of Bolterfire and the crackle and acrid ting of sorcery. Then came the woman.

Primarch Varil. Her voluminous, wine-dark robes, though singed in a dozen places during the descent and fight down to the vault, snapped and fluttered with the force of her motion. Beneath her robes, the twelve defenders caught sight of her bone white, slim combat suit. Astartes rushed in from behind her, sweeping the room with the barrels of their bolters. In the distance, through the doorway, another band of Marines, a few Companies strong perhaps, retreated by fire and movement towards the complex.

That fight did not catch the twelve's eyes for long, for they laid eyes on a far rarer and more terrifying sight. The Primarch stretched out her hand, upon which a red, Warpish glow was coalescing. Faidon groaned behind them, but the sound cut off as if he was a Vox the Primarch had deactivated. He was held fast, by a stasis field of some sort it seemed.

"Your fight is, for now, finished. My daughters now defend this structure." Her eyes and voice betrayed the anger behind her mask. Nearly two squads of Coldirons had joined her by now. A twitch of her finger pulled Faidon's still body forward. Another two Coldirons took up the spell, and the Psychic energy Varil had held dissipated. "I will question you of this immediately."

 

[Mortis Nuntius]

When your mother hears about this.

Long and sappy but lovely IC with @Princess_Hex
​

When the call for astartes to defend the vault had gone out, the Wardens of the Blessed Heart were amongst the first on the scene. Not for any particular keen devotion to duty or an advantage in travel speed, they just happened to be some of the closest astartes to the vault when the call went out. They arrived all at once, twenty four Wardens carrying their weapons as well as as many supplies as they could carry. If they were to be put under siege they would not be caught unprepared.

For now things were still relatively quiet and so the Wardens were taking the time to familiarize themselves with the expected battle space under the watchful eye of Melika. They had, however, learned that three were some civilians inside the vault and had immediately taken custody of them, in their minds if not in legal practice.

So Atefeh had volunteered to go check on them, and she found herself walking through tunnels that felt at once cavernous and claustrophobic. The Wardens were no strangers to urban warfare, in fact the most famous battle in the legion's history had taken place in a city. Yet something about this vault felt unnerving, like it was a tomb. Atefeh refused to let it get too her, and kept her weapon holstered, any small comfort she might derive from keeping her boltgun at the ready wouldn't be worth scaring the civilians when she saw them.

Civilian it seemed was something of a stretch. Her sharp and sensor enhanced vision would soon detect two figures ahead, both armed and one uniformed.

"More of them." The female noted, a strange quality to her familiar voice, somewhere between despair and indifference.

It took all of a moment for Atefeh to recognize the woman who just spoke, and she almost snorted from the sheer coincidence of running into them again. What stopped her was the woman's voice, that hurt indifference was something she had seen too often to treat flippantly. "I'm afraid there will be a fair few more of us soon. We'll do our best to keep to ourselves."

Atefeh was in terrible shape, even in the dim lighting it was clear that her armour was in dire need of maintenance as it was covered in grime, something no one would allow if they had the ability to stop it. The golden paint on her right arm was charred black with soot from an artillery shell that had landed too close, and she held the arm awkwardly at her side. Less easy to define was the softening of her stance, there was an air of exhaustion to her.

With a pneumatic hiss Atefeh took off her helmet, just like she had last time. Her face was worn, the deep dark bags under her eyes belied how little sleep she'd been getting. In short, she looked like hell, but was still easy to recognize. "Nice to see you again Lilith, even if the circumstances aren't ideal."

"You." What was in the greeting? Everything and nothing.

"You've met…guessing these are the ones you tried to dump me on?" The elderly male reasoned.

Lilith nodded mutely, her rusty hair was stained grey and brown from dust and blood and some of it fell over blank eyes. The male looked more alert but was obviously favoring one leg and both looked physically and mentally exhausted, their strange armor pitted and stained though their weapons were in commendable condition, came with the genes, they'd be dead before they neglected those.

Atefeh took a step forward, then held her hands up to reveal they were empty. "May I approach? I'm not going to hurt either of you, I just want to help."

"And don't think I don't recognize you. Andromalius, was it? The Wardens have some opinions on patients who won't stay in their beds. We'll talk about that later."

He curled his lips, "Figure out how to do my duty from a bed and that's where I'll stay."

"Right now your duty is to rest and heal so that you can return to your other duties later. We are very serious about this, we are doctors. If need be we have ways of making you stay put."

"Do you?" He bristled. Not quite pointing the flamer in her direction.

Lilith for her part just sat there looking at something in the distance. But her hands never left her own flamer.

Atefeh sighed, hands still up in the air. "Yeah, we do. Ropes mostly, handcuffs sometimes. What else are you going to do while this entire vault is under siege? By the looks of it you've both done enough fighting to last a lifetime."

Lilith laughed at that, a quiet yet highly pitched sound, like some strangled bird. Andros sent her a look that may have been of concern or annoyance, most likely both.

With some of the tension feeling like it was dissipating Atefeh took a half step forward. "Yeah, I get it. You don't feel safe, you don't think this is the end yet. Your body is keeping you alert and on edge because it feels like at any moment you're going to need to fight for your life."

"Lilith, look at me." Atefeh waited just long enough to give Lilith the chance to comply. "My life, my everything, is to protect people like you. I know that right now trusting anybody is difficult, so I won't ask you to trust me. I haven't earned that yet. But know that the reason I exist is to stand between you and danger and get you home safe. That's what it means to be a Warden."

Lilith looked through her.

"That's my job ma'am. And we seem to be well matched results wise." Andros noted bitterly.

Atefeh didn't seem at all pleased by the comparison. She was no enforcer of the law, she was an astartes, an entirely different kind of existence to someone like Andromalius. For a brief moment she looked offended before she mastered herself once more. "Look, we can sit here and talk all day or you can let me near you and I can start treating your wounds. You both need it, bad. We all realize that, but I can't do anything until you give me permission."

They looked at her uncomprehendingly for a few moments. "Can't be that necessary if you need to ask to do it first." He grumbled but nodded his grudging consent.

Lilith didn't seem to hear but when the Astartes' moved forwards she flinched back, her flamer raised up. Eyes wide with manic terror for a moment.

In a flash Atefeh had closed the distance, not waiting for the panicked girl to fire. Yet where most marines would have violently ripped away the weapon, disarmed the threat as quickly and efficiently as possible, Atefeh was forced to remember her oath. No blows landed, no harsh pulls. All Lilith felt was an embrace, perhaps not as gentle as it should have been.

"Hey, it's alright Lilith, it's okay." Atefeh kept her voice low and gentle. It was hard, she was exhausted and frustrated and wanted to do this the easy way. Nothing Lilith could do could pose an even remotely credible threat to her, and yet this was the way she had to handle this. If she really reflected on it, that was for the best. There was no reason to hurt Lilith even further. "Put the weapon down Lilith, it's time to rest."

Lilith thrashed, she even bit a bit but after a time just subsided with a low moan before slumping into the Space Marine's constricting embrace. There was just no end to it, nothing. Other options all exhausted she shut down, head lolling forwards onto cold ceramite. The flamer miraculously didn't leave her hands.

It was some time later, after Liilith had collapsed, Atefeh had been able to bring them both to a side room and provide first aid. Their weapons and armour were stacked by the door, and even the astartes had removed her armour to hopefully be less intimidating.

She'd seen to Andromalius first, though he was going to need an extended stay under the watchful eye of an apothecary before he recovered. Now Atefeh sat beside the unconscious form of Lilith and was gently massaging burn cream onto her shoulder. It was easier to be delicate now, now that the tension was gone, so she was in doctor mode and very focused.

Lilith's effort to disguise her waking was subtle but Atefeh's augmented senses and well honed intuition made such attempts at deception futile.

"Welcome back Lilith, feeling any better after a rest?"

The still bagged eyes flickered open revealing dark angry eyes.

"Did my home get unmelted whilst I was out?" She asked bluntly as she rose into an upright sitting position, twisting from side to side, stretching and wincing with pain.

Atefeh leaned back, wiping the remainder of the burn cream from her hands with the towel she had prepared for the purpose. She was perfectly content to let Lilith stretch out and have some space.

"I'm afraid not, but we'll see what we can do about getting it rebuilt for you. At least you seem to be talking now, I'll take that as a good thing."

"Take it as you like." Lilith grumbled. She might have been expected to fall silent again and for a moment she did before suddenly stiffening and glaring over at the Astartes, "Can you just give it a rest? This whole nice friendly softtoy act? I get it you're a medic you fix people, you're really nice, everyone should like you and shit. It's older than this shithole bunker already. Take a look around you don't need to try so hard, there ain't any competition going for least bad person or mutant or whatever in this hole. I'm tired and hurt and really, really fucked up right now and I just can't…" she waved at the Space Marine as her voice cracked and then she did go quiet.

Atefeh had sat unmoving throughout Lilith's entire rant, it was only after she was done that the astartes allowed herself to lean back against the wall. "Would it help if I called you a bitch?" she asked half jokingly.

"Look, if you were my enemy I wouldn't give you the time of day, but I do have a job to do here. Despite your temper, you're better than the horde of rats I'm going to be fighting for the next... however long it takes for reinforcements to arrive, so I may as well try and be friendly. Besides, we've met once before, I thought we had a connection." Atefeh shrugged noncommittally, perfectly content to be proven wrong.

"If anything, you should be the one to drop the tough girl act. You're traumatized, in shock, horribly wounded, and all that is after you have suffered a lifetime of abuse. All you're doing is pretending to be strong so you don't have to confront the hurt that you're experiencing. It's not particularly convincing and all it's gonna do is make you more miserable long term."

"You can let me in, let me help, or you can curl up in here and wait for the fighting to stop. It's your choice. My duty ends when you're physically healed, but I want to help you beyond that."

"Tough girl act? Take one fucking look at this world, the weak get devoured, its not an act, if I wasn't strong I'd be dead. I've survived being born on the bottom of the pile, I've survived the rats, I survived whatever the frak that glowing talking bomb thing was and I'll survive whatever the frak comes at me next. I don't need your help and I definitely don't need you patronizing me. Yeah my head's a mess, yeah I'm sick of everything, yeah maybe part of me does want to curl up and wait for it all to be over, you want to be helpful? Cut that useless shit right out of my brain because that's not going to happen." She snarled, physically shaking with rage as she dragged her battered body out of the bed.

"I'm not pretending, I'm surviving, that's how things work in the Pit, or did before I blew it up. So sorry if I'm not going to spend all day crying like a baby and waiting for my giant space mother to come cuddle it all better." She finished on her feet, stiff and bent kneed, her wiry form shivering, she stood there, vulnerable and violently waiting for the Space Marine to dare contradict her.

"You've certainly done a good job of surviving so far," came Atefeh's reply after she was certain Lilith was finished. "I apologise if it sounded like I was saying you aren't strong. My bedside manner hasn't exactly benefited from my stay on the planet. I'm sure Mofid would be very upset with me right now."

"I'm glad you're not just going to curl up and cry, I think you're better than that. But it does leave the question of what exactly you plan to do. No one's got time to run you out of here, and trust me, this is not an insult to your abilities but you would need an astartes to get you clear of the siege. You certainly aren't going to fight in your condition, so what's the plan Lilith, you tell me."

This time her silence had a less hostile and more despairing air to it. She looked uncertain. "I'm done with plans." She finally managed.

Atefeh nodded, she didn't know much about what Lilith had been through but she could recognise the look. "How about this? I tell you the plans we have, and you tell me where you want to fit in to them. Can be as much or as little as you want, and I can promise that if we both make it out alive you'll have a home to return to."

Lilith pondered this for a time, eventually nodded slightly. "Trusting me isn't smart." She warned. "And you should not make promises you know you can't keep."

"I'll keep that in mind, but I'm pretty sure I can keep this one." Atefeh got up from her sitting position and stretched. "We're here along with all the space marines on the planet to guard this vault. We've brought a few imperial army troops with us, but they're mostly going to be guarding the tunnels and inside as a fallback plan. This seems to be the hot spot for skaven activity on the planet, and we're right in the center of their crosshair. I haven't heard any estimates about their numbers or capabilities that leave me nervous, but it's going to be a tough fight."

"Good news is that we only have to hold out for so long before reinforcements arrive. My legion, the Wardens, are being brought by Ahurani to do reconstruction work, but as soon as they learn about the fight down here we'll be relieved. Apparently Lady Varil and the coldiron Cages are coming along too for the same reason." The difference in respect when referring to the two different primarchs was not subtle, nor did Atefeh make any attempt to hide it.

"Once reinforcements arrive the three squads of us here now will probably be transferred out. Once that happens I plan to take a long rest and then get back into helping folks. Probably join the reconstruction work unless I get ordered elsewhere. Maybe I'll even be the one rebuilding your home, assuming you want to return to it."

Atefeh grinned. "With that kind of power on the way, I think just about any promise is within my ability to keep."

"I don't have a home anymore." Lilith countered, before looking around. "All of you are coming here? Aren't there like twenty 'legions' in the whole Galaxy? What matters so much about this hole in the ground? Topsiders barely care and they were born just a few miles up." She sounded confused and suspicious. She also seemed uncomfortable. "Are all Space Marines like you? Soft and friendly like?"

That actually got Atefeh to laugh, an easy and genuine one. "Not even close! Each legion has its own style for that kind of thing, their own personality. In fact, us Wardens get made fun of, belittled for being soft. They call us nurses in armour." While she had started to speak in good humour coming off her laugh, there was more than a little bitterness in her voice by the time she had finished, Atefeh was a hard woman who had fought her entire life. It very obviously hurt to have her accomplishments put down based on reputation alone. "The Cages in particular are a dour lot, from what I hear. If it helps, they'll probably just ignore you."

"I'll be honest I don't have the faintest idea why they are on the way. Maybe Ahurani felt like she owed it to Lord Savnok, or maybe she's just trying to get out of having to fight. It's something she would do though, she likes taking the time to care for the folk who don't have anyone else watching out for them. If you find my pretty basic care annoying then you would hate her."

"And if you don't have a home, and don't want a new one here. You could always come with us. We'll find something for you to do in the fleet that keeps you busy, and you can get away from all," Atefeh waved her hand in the general direction of everything. "This."

Dark eyes widened at all of that. "I just…don't understand anything anymore. Nothing makes sense. Everything is just so fucked up and you are just so…I don't know….weird."

"Think about it, you got time. Time is a wonderful remedy, it lets the brain untangle things that seem so knotted and impossible right now." Atefeh walked over to the pile of armour, and began to get the first pieces ready for her to suit back up. "I should probably get back to it soon. If I don't, the other girls will think I snuck off for a nap and they'll tear me apart in a jealous rage."

"Don't leave any Rats for me." Lilith requested.

Atefeh paused during the process of armouring up. It was a laborious process that she undertook with a great deal of concentration. It looked meditative, though the impression was spoiled somewhat by her swaying slightly from exhaustion. She spared Lilith a glance and grinned. "Wasn't planning on it."

Lilith nodded her gratitude and then squirmed back under the covers. Though Atefeh was not fooled, still feigned rest had to be a start on the journey to the real thing? Who could blame anyone for keeping one eye open in this Galaxy?

--

The siege had been brutal, an endless sea of hard fighting. Dozens of space marines had died in the line of duty, their bodies now interred in a specially set aside room guarded by the auxiliaries that the Wardens had brought along. More numerous by far though, were the wounded.

It was only the grim discipline of the astartes that stopped the field hospital, such as it was, from being an absolute charnel house. In the cavernous, dark room the Emperor's elite stayed quiet, patiently awaiting their turn to be treated by the only two apothecaries standing. One was unwounded and worked alone, the other had taken a serious blow to the face and had broken an arm so for now she required help.

Atefeh had volunteered. She too had lost the use of one of her arms, but her situation was more permanent, with the limb severed completely and lost amongst the chaos and carnage of battle. Currently, she held the roll of bandages as the apothecary next to her wrapped a fresh tourniquet around a wound, the normally quick healing astartes suffering from the foul poisons the skaven applied to their weapons.

All things considered Atafeh looked okay. Most of the blood had been cleaned from her, and while she obviously had dozens of minor wounds to go with her missing arm she didn't seem to be particularly hampered by them. By any objective measure she was in horrible condition, but many of the space marines around her were even worse.

Lilith and Andromalius had spent the battle as the last line of defence, waiting alongside dozens of juves chosen to become Astartes, as the bodies had piled up they had been drafted into tending the wounded, it had been grim work but in its own way a welcome distraction, Lilith could not look at the Juves and then at the hunks of meat they so desperately wanted to be, but she could take just looking at one of them. Shredded Transhuman flesh was a fresh novelty, these arrogant freaks who lorded it over anyone who had to fear death, at first she enjoyed their pain, a savage equality. Then the screams and moans and the full extent of the injuries slowly dulled her indignation and left her scared and saddened and lost again. So she drifted between the dead and the dying, somewhere between the two herself, doing what little she could and wondering for the millionth time what she was doing here.

Such heavy questions distracted her so much that she did not even recognise the one armed medic working alongside her over a dying Space Marine in gold and black armor until the former spoke to her, the shocking familiarity robbing any meaning from the words.

"What?" She asked stupidly.

"I said it was nice to see you up and about, but you don't look much better off than the poor souls we're taking care of." By now Atefeh knew the woman she was talking to well enough to be blunt. "I'm saying you look like shit."

She laughed in surprise which quickly morphed into relief, "Oh that's good to hear. I was going to feel mean when I told you what you looked like."

"Oh yeah?" Atefeh smiled as she spoke. Her face was clearly a challenge for Lilith to try her best. "And what exactly do I look like?"

Her eyes flickered for a moment. Beautiful.

"Like those rodents ate you before coming to their senses and vomiting."

That earned a snort before Atefeh laughed. "Yeah they just couldn't keep me down. Said they didn't like their humans so weird."

"Oh, you call yourself human." Lilith sounded surprised. "Thought Ass-tart-teases were a different breed."

"Depends on who you ask. I think most people see us as a bit too changed to be really human." A tiny hint of clinical precision crept into Atefeh's voice, though the light mood remained predominant. "But Ahurani says that we are human so long as we are able to laugh and love and connect with the people around us. She's my boss, so I use her definition."

"You have a boss? Is she like…bigger than you? Also she sounds like a drip."

"Uh, yeah. A bit taller than me but like, quite a bit bigger. Has big white wings so she's hard to miss." Atefeh set the bandages down and motioned vaguely over her head to indicate the size difference. It wasn't very well communicated. "And yeah she's... a drip is probably a pretty good description. Sappy, cries a lot. Has a whole thing where she thinks fighting is evil, but she's in charge of a legion and a good chunk of the imperial army."

Atefeh shrugged. "No matter how lame she is, she is still my boss. Commands like," Her brow knitted up in thought. "Well when I got assigned here there were about twenty six thousand of us. But last I heard the girls were heading to go fight in two different wars back to back so who knows how many there are now. Melika's been telling me we're buddying up with the Cages too, so I guess I have a second boss?"

Lilith rolled her eyes at the wings comment, clearly presuming she was being fucked with. "Alright, alright…so from the sounds of it this is one of those weird noble things where the Emperor put his six year old brat in charge and you all have to do what she says but its gone so bad that a real soldier got sent to help 'guide' her? Heard that was how they did things in the rest of the Imperium, never believed it though, even the Topsiders here aren't that dumb."

Confusion was clear on Atefeh's face. "Ahurani's gotta be at least a century old now, and who knows how long she was on her homeworld before we found her. That's... not the worst summary though. Girl's not cut out to be a primarch, so if the Emperor is finally giving us someone better suited to being in charge I'll count it as a good thing. I never got why she was in charge in the first place, but hey. My job is to shoot things and tend to thee wounded, not ask political questions."

"Huh, so you have to eat shit too. Maybe you are still human." Lilith allowed. "Plenty of stuff to shoot and wounded to tend to here anyway…do you know why any of this is happening?"

"Which part? There's a whole lot of stuff happening and I only know anything about some of them."

"The rats…nukes…whatever the green glowing shit was…why so many Spacemarines…its all just…why? You know. Everything has been insane since the rockheads showed up."

"Well, those are the things I mostly know the least about. The rats have probably been here for a while, I checked some records and these things have been seen on a bunch of other worlds in smaller numbers. Nukes were probably just a power play, weaken the humans here to let them dominate, but that's just a guess. Who knows how rat minds work. The glowing shit is a mystery to everyone, and I heard some of my sisters got yelled at about it." As Atefeh went though each point she held up fingers, though she couldn't count them for added emphasis.

"The space marines is easy though. The ugly, rude, green ones are natives. The black and gold ones with the weirdly ornate armour came here on orders to stop things from escalating and failed before they got here. My sisters and I were left to help deal with the problems that were developing back when things looked slightly less catastrophic. The newest shipment of my legion and the Cages is because Ahurani heard about what was happening and was, uh... upset." Atefeh grimaced, something about Ahurani being upset clearly having quite a bit more weight to it than her words implied. "They're here to help deal with the rats and help rebuild. Help out the family, you know?"

"Family, also I don't think anyone has ever told me so much about anything in my life without some…persuasion. You always talk so freely?"

That made Atefeh look a little sad, though it was only for a fleeting moment. "I can't tell you everything, there are secrets meant only for the legion. But if it isn't a secret, why keep it hidden? You don't strike me as someone who will misuse anything I tell you, you just want to know so the world is less confusing. If I can help with that, why wouldn't I?"

"On Stormgard you need to know something someone tells you or expects you to find out, you don't then we don't waste time voxing."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but that sounds really lonely." It was the arm closest to Lilith that Atefeh was missing, and so she couldn't offer a hand as a show of support. That actually seemed to frustrate her, and she heaved a sigh before continuing. "I hope that one day things get better, at least for you."

"It is what it is, I've always had people around me, they just trust me to be able to stand on my own two feet, I'd hate it if they didn't respect me enough for that."

"There's a difference, I think." Atefeh began, carefully. "Between respecting someone's ability to stand for themselves, and not doing anything to help unless they get a benefit in return." She closed her eyes for a moment, then reached down to pick the bandage back up after they were open. "I should drop the subject, probably. I just think you deserve a break."

"Since when does deserve have anything to do with anything? You get what you get, not what you think you're owed and I don't need protection from words, wind can't hurt anyone." She bristled slightly, "sorry, you were trying to be nice again, you're pretty sweet."

Atefeh held up a hand. "Hey, I've gotten worse from the guys I fight alongside. Don't worry too much. You're nice to be around, takes more than that to get rid of me"

"Been called a lot of things, never 'nice'" She chuckled. "You are a strange one, all you Space Marines so cute?"

Atefeh's eyes sparkled. "I've been called a lot of things, but cute is a new one. But I bet you say that to all the one armed 7 foot tall women you meet."

"Every, single, one." She confessed.

 

[Puppernickel]

To Kill An Idea… Or Be Killed By One​

"Here we shall stand, and here we shall fall. And by all that is holy and unholy both, we'll take as many of those blasted Imperial badazakul with us as we possibly can! For the light of freedom!"
- Administrator Dane Qwon, at the final stand of Monia

"Let me make one thing clear, Captain, so clean out your ears and listen. We are not fighting some pansy force or cowardly xeno. We are fighting warriors, tried and true, capable of matching anything the Army can send at them in valor. So if I hear you talking about how they 'don't seem so strong' one more time, I'll demote you so hard that you'll be lucky to retain permission to clean the toilets! They've spilled enough blood to drown Terra itself, so do not underestimate them for so much as a single second of an instant, or they'll break you like a twig. Am I understood?"
- Admiral Quanton 'Doorbreaker' Druk, before the jump to Bekrem I​

The Tri-Star Federation. The name was enough to send a shiver down many an Imperium officer's spine. After the promising fighting that quickly turned sour and bitter, many saw it as a death trap, a meat grinder that sought only to chew the Imperial Army and Astartes until they gummed up the works. The view was even popular enough that the Federation came to be known by another name among parts of the Army: The Good Man's Hell. Still, there were many who saw it as a chance for the Army to show just how important it truly was. For even as the Astartes marched to the north and to the south, fighting their way through vicious foes and monsters - even then, the Federation was not an Astartes' war. The Legion's, powerful as they were, were not enough alone. So it was that the Imperial Army, seen by many as a supporting role, stepped forth to show its worth. Even if said worth took the form of oceans of blood, sweat, and tears.

Of course, even if the war truly was the Army's to win or lose, they were not the only ones there. The Astartes had started it, and the Astartes planned on finishing it, for now their pride was on the line. None more than the Lightbringers, some of whom had turned their fury at their Primarch's demise from Savnok to the Federation, and many more simply desiring to release their pent up sorrow and frustration on a foe that had caused an entire Legion to, in their own eyes, fail. Still, even with the fury and bravery of the Imperium of Mankind itself, of its greatest warriors, arrayed against the Tri-Star Federation, they would not go quietly into submission. They had battled for so long now, they would continue to battle till the very end, till darkness itself enveloped them and swallowed them whole. The Imperium was only too happy to oblige.

Regrouping after the "conquest" of Hilior's Hope, Primarch Memnon quickly assembled his forces, preparing for the assault on what remained of Federation space. Even considering how chaotic some of the fighting had been, it was actually a surprise just how much organizing needed to be done for the Primarch's plans to commence as he foresaw. Memnon was unfazed however, for such things as commanding were his specialty, and the billions upon billions of soldiers he sought to direct would quickly fall in line behind officer and Astartes, ships positioning quickly for their assault.

Things were a bit delayed, however, as Memnon found himself distracted by a side project. Being the caring, brick laying Primarch that he was, Memnon sought to ensure that the war torn territories already taken from the Federation were properly taken care of and built up under Imperial rule. This proved to be more of a task than he expected, as instead of a few simple orders given, it proved to be a more monumental task. For while a Primarch had great power and weight, even they had ebbs and flows where they were strong and weak. And Memnon had one one particular weakness in his influence: The Administratum.

The rivalry between the Bronze Shields and the Administratum was, admittedly, a lesser acknowledged fact in the Imperium. Yet the Administratum, wide as it was, did not forget. It was here that the passive aggression, even outright distaste in some cases, began to rear its head. While the Administratum could never outright deny a Primarch's wishes without good reason, they could certainly delay and extend as they saw fit. Important permits that normally would be rushed through were held back, notices were sent about the risks of active reconstruction in an "active warzone", messages received detailing some of the many, many, many papers that would require Memnon's signature, and Memnon's alone. The Administratum could not possibly deny a Primarch… but they could certainly be picky about how they accepted.

To Memnon's credit, he managed to remain quite calm and collected throughout the process of trying to deal with the Administratum, finding work arounds and filing replies as needed. He did a fairly good job of working around the frustrations of bureaucracy, his experiences leading his own stellar nation coming to his assistance, especially as he utilized his own Helladic League's not inconsiderable power to send aid to the particular areas as he tried to wrangle with the Administratrum. However, he had a war to be won, and every moment he spent sifting through papers and signing on the dotted line was a moment more for the Federation to prepare. So, after sending a final order for the job to be completed while he won the war - and trying to ignore the mental image of certain Administratum officials being smug as he did so - Memnon turned his attention back to the task at hand.

Even while Memnon battled with one of man's greatest foes, he had ensured that the advance into Federation space would begin even if he had to remove all of his attention. The world of Lammaga VII, a lush and decently populated world, was the first of the last to collapse before the might of several Legions and the Army. The fighting was brutal but swift, the grinding machine of the Imperium crushing the defenders in short order. At practically the same time Bekrem I similarly fell, casualties there higher but still at acceptable levels, according to projected results. All across the rest of the border Federation defenders attempted to defend, but to no avail, as the Imperium warmachine effectively countered and struck back. The vicious fighting of the last year had done much to teach the Imperium a lesson, and they would have none say they could not learn.

With the border taken and crushed, the available forces under Memnon's command split off into two groups, going their separate ways to complete their individual tasks. One to be led by the Primarch himself, heading directly for Monia to strike at the heart of the Federation swiftly and precisely. The other half were set to split off and sweep up the lesser worlds around Monia, serving as an overwhelming clean up detail that could remove the rest of the Tri-Star from the equation. Memnon surmised that the Federation would likely have consolidated forces at Monia, the final world of the Federation, and thus decided to quickly conquer the rest of the territory even as he personally delivered the killing blow. He was, of course, correct, reports from select interrogations - more than a couple conducted by Crimson Lord officers to ensure thoroughness - not only supporting but outright proving the truth of the Federation's consolidation efforts.

Not even Memnon could have predicted just how effective those efforts would prove to be, nor exactly what was in store for them..

The Primarch's arrival in the system was a mess. Monia was more defended than any other Federation world had ever been, numbering enough to actually give Memnon enough pause to 'earn a blink', or so some claimed. The largest fleet ever assembled by the Tri-Star Federation rested around those defenses, ready for the Imperium to arrive for their final conflict. Fleets clashed violently in the opening salvos, cannons firing and torpedoes launching as all sorts of weapons fire was exchanged, both sides beating into each other with the vigor of bound and determined souls. It was easily the greatest naval engagement of the entire campaign, more than a few ships on both sides simply collapsing like paper under the fire directed at them. Of particular note was a few pieces of technology that had apparently been held back until now, the Federation finally revealing the last tricks at their disposal.

Strike craft darting from uniquely designed carriers, superior in both numbers and agility to their Imperial counterparts. Torpedoes with similar agility and unnatural accuracy, zeroing in on targets while avoiding point defense. And perhaps most shocking, Federation ship classes that had never been seen up until then darting forward, firing unique lasers that did more damage to Imperial ships than standard Federation armaments, or even most Imperial armaments, sometimes even managing to somehow pierce void shields.

And yet, nothing the Federation could do would hold back the tide. Victory was the Imperium's to grasp, and the only question was how bloody a victory it would be. But the Federation was making it costly indeed, and while said costs were acceptable by the Imperium, it was proving to already be the single most costly battle in the Federation yet, and they hadn't even assaulted the world itself yet.

It was as Memnon was resigning himself to a long, bloody war of attrition against the defenders that fresh reinforcements suddenly arrived, surprising both sides. Several additional fleets burst into the system, the Imperium forces cheering a bit as they saw they were all bearing the signs of the Coldiron Cages, although there were certain individuals less pleased to learn they were led by Legion Master Miseo. Having traveled from across the Imperium, Miseo had been informed by garrison troops in the occupied territories as to what Memnon's plans had been. Heading straight for Monia without delay, the Legion Master's appearance proved to be the edge needed to turn a potential victory into an assured, if costly one. The fresh ships and crews were exactly what was needed to crack down on the Federation, bringing the last of their fleet and stations to heel.

With the space dealt with, it finally came time for the ground invasion. Where before Memnon had been set to conquer the world, now he was bound and determined. The world would fall, and it would unveil all of its secrets. One way, or another.

---

"Let me ask you something, Commander. Have you ever cornered a large animal before? One with sharp teeth designed to tear through prey and large claws made to rend? I can assure you, we have ample experience with such things. Thus I can say with confidence that we should proceed with naught but caution against our foes, lest we lose more than we bargain for."
-Astartes Lieutenant Herek Deracles of the Skull Legion, not long before the Massacre of Iron's Stand​

Even while Monia was invaded and Memnon battled with Federation forces there, the other half of his force took to their task. Traveling through the rest of what remained in Federation space, the still considerable force found their path to be much easier than predicted. Due to the Federation's consolidation towards Monia for their final stand, much of the space assets that would normally hamper and slow down progress were absent. Still, some ships still remained,

Most notably the FVS Odyssey, the ship of the quite infamous Captain Julian, which was spotted on a couple occasions accompanied by a new fleet of ships, ragtag and mismatched as most of it seemed. Despite several attempts to kill the Star Fox, Imperial attackers were never quite able to catch him, the Captain being uncharacteristically flighty and avoiding any and all engagement opportunities. Perhaps the loss of his homeworld and fleet had shattered him, some commanders claimed, or maybe he was focused on more evacuations. Such assumptions were both wrong and right. For while the Captain was, in fact, evacuating as many citizens as he could - particularly the xenos, who stood to lose so much more than the humans did, and all understood this - that was not his only task. Indeed, he had a very important and vital mission to undertake, one that would cause the Imperium much grief and annoyance in the coming years. But that is a story for another time.

In general, every system outside of Monia was rather easy to take, from a space perspective at least. The ground was in general rather simple, with most worlds simply surrendering to the invaders outright. There was a trend with all of those worlds, however. Whereas with normal Federation worlds, there was at least a smattering of xenos, if not an equal or even majority population. However, guardsmen quickly noted that there was a distinct lack of xenos in almost every single world they visited, with a couple minor Federation colonies seemingly abandoned altogether. The lack of resistance and foes made the Imperial officers feel uneasy and wary, trying to figure out what game the Federation were playing while world after world fell with relatively nonexistent fighting. Those Astartes once part of the Lightbringers Legion were especially vexed, itching for a fight and practically begging for something to happen.

Thus, it was actually almost a relief when the task force reached Iron's Stand, and met some actual resistance.

The space battle was, as with most worlds, rather standard. The Star Fox and his fleet were sighted orbiting the planet, however, as with previous engagements he pulled away and fled. A couple of his ships stayed behind, however, scattering throughout the system instead of following Captain Zadar. Ships were sent to chase them down while the rest of the fleet plowed ahead, taking out what few defenses present before heading for the planet itself. However, unlike most of the previous worlds, Iron's Stand refused to surrender, digging in and putting up a resistance. The commanders on the Imperium's side were more than happy to oblige, seeing Iron's Stand as victory like any other. It would be easy, some claimed. The world wasn't so well defended from what they could see, and they had more than enough troops to drown anything the Federation could bring to bear. More calm and thoughtful heads advised caution, none more notably than that of the infamous Lieutenant Deracles, a Skull Legion Astartes who proved himself over the previous year at the invasion of Tryachon II. Yet even as the words of caution were given and taken into account, the fact was that an invasion would be inevitable regardless. The force had their orders, and one way or another they would have their conquest.

Drop pods were deployed, transports sent down, and selective bombardment deployed. The defenders were horribly outnumbered, facing three to one odds in only the first landing of Imperial forces. However, numbers were not everything. The Federation deployed equipment that had in fact been seen at Monia, not that the task force knew this. The deadly lasers were much, much more effective on the ground than in space, unhampered as they were by the void shields of ships. They were so effective, in fact, that the first wave of assaulters was completely stopped. The second wave came with quite a few more Astartes and Primus Tanks than the first, able to do quite a bit more damage than the mere Infantry could manage. Still, casualties were much higher than any predictions could have handled, and even by the time a proper beachhead was formed on the world, the Imperial officers and commanders could tell that they were in for the long haul. There were even some who simply considered bombarding the defenders from orbit and declaring it won… but there was one issue with this.

The Lightbringers, tired of being without orders and wishing to prove themselves, went on the offensive. The higher ranking officers with the local Lightbringer forces turned to the commander that Memnon had put in charge of the whole thing: Oen Stronghammer, 12th Chapter Master of the Skull Legion. As the commander of the second largest collection of Astartes available, he'd been placed in charge of the entire Astartes contingent of the second force, and technically in charge of the entire operation. Until then he'd largely let the Army handle their own affairs, trusting the generals and admirals to know what they were doing. However, when he was approached by Lightbringers who were requesting - no Astartes would ever plead or beg - for the right to lead a force themselves, he felt conflicted. After much discussion and debate, the Chapter Master eventually conceded, declaring to the Army commanders that the Lightbringers would be performing an operation to help open the front and that "the Lightbringers should be given any assistance they request, within reason". Of course, there were some questions, but few would disobey the orders of an Astartes, and there was no reason to do so regardless as far as could be told. The Lightbringers were veterans, expert combatants that were a cut above even the average Astartes recruit. Despite their failures and missteps over the last couple years, they were still seen as particularly experienced, and often knew the Federation tactics better than most.

It was with this knowledge that the Lightbringers spent an no more than six hours planning, two more hours preparing, and then sallied forth. Thousands of Astartes, and some of the most fanatical auxiliaries that were present, all arrayed themselves on the fronts… and charged one of the strongest points of Federation defense. All watched in shock as the Astartes almost seemed to disregard all sense of tactics and sense, hundreds of Astartes simply charging the Federation lines without so much as a scream. The only one who did not watch with horrified awe was Oen himself, who merely muttered to himself for minutes on end as he watched with grim calm.

As the Lightbringers continued to charge and even send more troops to the attack, more than a few officers, both within the Army and even within the Astartes forces, brought up their worries with Oen. Was this simply a mad charge? Had the Lightbringers broken, had they snapped? Was this a rage induced mental break? Yet Oen stood firm, ordering that none stand in the way or halt the Lightbringers. "They know what they are doing." He said time and again, and eventually the questions stopped coming. All watched in grim silence as more and more Lightbringers seemed to throw themselves at the Federation forces. For quite some time, it seemed to be pointless. More than a few Federation points were overwhelmed of course, their laser weaponry overheating from how fast they had to be fired to keep up, and in one particular display actually melted into slag. But the casualties seemed to be so high, so ridiculous, so unnecessary. It seemed pointless….

And then, without warning, the entire Federation line collapsed in utter disarray and chaos.

The Lightbringers knew the Federation well, and knew their tactics. Using their knowledge and speaking with the Crimson Lord's Astartes that had accompanied the force, the Lightbringers quickly identified exactly where they needed to go, exactly who the commanders seemed to be, and exactly what needed to be broken to crack the enemy lines. Using that knowledge, the Lightbringers then brought out one of their greatest accomplishments, and dishonorable failures. The clones that Axinos had created, or 'False Astartes', were still very much prevalent within the Legio. Even if, at the moment, they were not receiving more of them from Actium, there were more than enough to accomplish the task set before them. If there was one thing that the Federation had demonstrated, it was the False Astartes made for a very good battering ram… and, in a pinch, expendable distractions.

Neither the Lightbringers, the Crimson Lords, or anyone else present, were experts of infiltration and stealth. Thus, a distraction was needed, something to keep the Federations attention. Later counts on Astartes casualties in the mad charge put the numbers at a minimum of ten thousand Astartes dead in a single hour alone, with more falling after. However, for every thousand who were cut down, only a hundred at most were true Astartes, heroically charging forth to their deaths for the sole purpose of ensuring the clones would attack the enemy. Meanwhile, Lightbringer squads quickly moved, performing flanking maneuvers and quickly striking down targets of opportunity. If not for the mass of bodies harassing them the strikes would have been merely painful, however, the Federation forces were completely and utterly blindsided by the dual assault. The Lightbringers were not known for their subtlety, after all.

The Massacre of Iron's Stand, as it came to be known in the following years, was arguably one of the bloodiest, most single minded conquests of the entire campaign. And yet, not only was it victorious, but some could even argue towards its effectiveness, even if it was costly. It had saved mortal and Astartes lives both, and time on top of it all, for which many were pleased. On top of all that, the Lightrbingers seemed to mellow somewhat, their rage temporarily quieted by the victory they had secured for the Imperium. Chapter Master Oen gave the officers that remained a personal notice of congratulations, which they accepted with hardly a word. The world was conquered despite the Federation's best efforts, some forces left behind to clean up what remained of the scattered defenders, while the rest of the force continued forth with its mission. No world gave them so much trouble as Iron's Stand, which stood as the only one to actively attempt to halt Imperium forces during their sweep.

In the end, the force actually came out rather untouched, their casualties comparatively low. With everything outside of Monia conquered and subjected, and garrisons placed on and over worlds to keep them in line, the force turned their attention towards the prime jewel itself. They had orders to head for Monia at the completion of their orders, hopefully to help clean up what was left. After all, how could but a single Federation world stand up to the numbers at Memnon's disposal? With their task completed the order to Warp to Monia was given, and the task force headed out, expecting to find a world conquered and a celebrating force….

Only to find the world still well under siege, and Primarch Memnon very happy for fresh reinforcements.

---

"Scythes! Beware those blasted scythes! Listen for the sound of the humming blade Corporal, and that wicked screech. We might yet make it back to the company if we can- BY THE OMNISSIAH, BLAST THAT UNHOLY ABOMINATION INTO THE WARP ITSELF!"
Unknown Tech Priest, Siege of Monia

"By the stars themselves, may our ancestors forgive us for our sins…."
Rear-General Captorn Armande, officer of the Tri-Star Federation​

Monia was proving to be a tough nut to crack, in more ways than one. One of the most developed worlds of the Tri-Star Federation, it had once been a central hub during the Golden Age of humanity. Unlike most, however, Monia had managed to keep a semblance of that former glory, keeping some of its technology and grandeur. Monia had had time to prepare for the Imperium to arrive, watching its sister worlds fall before the seemingly unstoppable tide. Bristling with ground defenses and filled to the brim with defenders, it was clear with but a single glance that this would be the hardest fight the Imperium would face, the greatest combat they would conduct. Even if Memnon had not surprised many present and insisted that Monia had to be conquered the hard way rather than like Hilior's Hope, bombardement would have taken time as well. The world was covered in several sections by shielding, and there were even some emplacements that could harass the orbital ships. This would not stop the Imperium, of course, but it did give them trouble, considering that they wanted to capture the world rather than pulp it.

Here it was that the final vestiges of the Federation would stand and be washed away, buried under the might of a greater threat. And yet, they would ensure they went down in history, remembered even ten thousand years later for their valiance and ferocity. As well as their spite, for that matter.

The initial invasion of the world was devastating. Hundreds of thousands of craft were sent in, decoys of various sorts used to protect the real transports. Despite the many, many decoys used, there was simply so much firepower that the Federation had on the ground that casualties were extraordinarily high. Still, the landing of the Imperium was not to be denied, and eventually a beachhead was formed on the world. From there every last inch of territory was a struggle, bought with life after life by both sides. The sheer casualties were devastating, with some sources claiming that one report had actually caused the normally calm and collected Memnon to begin cursing violently, spouting threats from his culture that made the few who understood him immediately flee in utter terror. Then again, it was only a rumor, with no true confirmation one way or another. Regardless, the costs of taking the world were high, but one the Imperium was willing to accept. Especially if it meant they could get their hands on whatever technology allowed the Federation to make those lasers, devastating as they were.

The lasers were not the worst thing the Federation brought to bear, however. For with their last world falling, their last stronghold collapsing, they had begun to let a sickly darkness finally fill their hearts. One could not fight a war such as this and come out unscathed. It would be fair to say that the Imperium had corrupted the Federation, placing a blight in them even as far back as their first encounter. Perhaps, if things had gone differently, things would have been a bit different. Maybe they would have even surrendered, or perhaps, perhaps come to terms with the Imperium. But negotiation had proven to be empty, ruined utterly by the initial talks between Axinos and Federation officers. There would be no peace, not until every last Federation soldier or Imperial lackey was dead. And the universe had seemingly decided the Federation would be the ones to die.

It was a single order. A simple command. It was so easily given in the end, even if it went against almost everything that the Federation stood for.

The Imperium did not quite know what happened at first. It started with the 65th Rear Star Battalion, just one of the many, many infantry marching into the meat grinder. Normally, however, entire battalions don't suddenly disappear without a word. Squads were sent to investigate, AStartes and mortal both, due to the 65th's position on a rather valuable front. Of those sent to see what was going on, only a single guardsmen returned, missing an arm and wounded to the point of death. He managed to get of a single warning before he died in the arms of an Astartes who'd found him, coughing his last words with horrified clarity.

"Heresy. Warn the Priests. They're using… Heresy."

The warning, as sparse as it was, was vital for the Imperium. Tech-Priests were quickly brought to the front, with all forces informed to be wary of unknown hostiles heading their way. The warning was perfectly timed, as contacts began to occur in several regions. Reports flooded in on their assaulters, from hulking monstrosities devastating battle formations to unseen assassins picking off units. All reports had the same story to tell - machines. They were all machines, automatons whose sole purpose was to cause devastation and disarray. Even worse, the machines were quickly identified as the same as those located in the northern galactic sphere, the information causing Memnon to ask many questions of the squad of Culter Dei team sent from the Umbral Watch. Thankfully the machines seemed incapable of distinguishing who they assaulted, attacking both sides of the war, although they were generally situated so they would be facing only Imperial forces. As such they generally appeared to be the Imperium's problem, and thus the Imperium had to solve them.

It was a long, brutal process. To generalize the invasion of Monia would be a disservice to those who died there, and yet the battling was so broad and massive that no one possible conflict could be pointed to. It was chaos, a mess, an absolute slaughter of magnificent proportions. Even when the reinforcements from the other strike force arrived to bolster the invasion, it was still a bloody slough through urban, rural, and everything in between. And in the end it would matter not, for as the Imperial forces finally started to encroach on where the last remaining Administorial office within the Federation, the Tri-Star still had one last laugh to take, a dying weeze of hatred and grief as it spat upon the Imperium's triumph.

Memnon's first warning was a notice from one of his astropaths. Surprisingly, it seemed the Federation had finally decided to speak up, and even more, contacted the Imperium in the only way they could assure. A single astropathic communication, sent by a thought to be dead Astropath that had supposedly fallen in a previous battle. After being checked over for four hours, the communication was revealed to mean a simple message: Congratulations.

As Memnon tried to figure out what, exactly, that meant, he received his second, and only other warning. Without warning two squads of Astartes, one of Crimson Lords and the other the single Umbral Watch group, began to send a message over all command vox channels on the planet. The two squads had, through their own methods, come across the same information, and realized they needed to ensure that it came out to be heard by as many people as possible. It was a surprise to say the least, due to how one normally tried not to disrupt every single commanding officer's communication channel above a lieutenant available during an active war. Nevertheless, the Umbral Watch had actually hacked the vox net to accomplish this in full, ensuring that the message they and the Crimson Lords had to give made it through.

To the shock and horror of every single receiver, it was learned that the Federation had, against all reason or logic, somehow rigged their world through a complicated collection of explosives and various technology to blow. While the planet wouldn't actually denote, it would likely render it vastly less habitable, with estimates stating that it could easily crack at least one of the world's continents. The news was questioned by many, the idea that the Federation, the freedom loving natives, had done such an outlandish thing laughable. However, the leaders of both Astartes squads were very insistent, warning everyone that they needed to evacuate. When the news reached Memnon he was shocked, checking the information provided no less than three times before sending the order for a tactical retreat.

It was inevitable, however. Despite Memnon's best effort, despite those twenty Astartes that did their best to warn their fellows, they could not evacuate everyone. Seeing the Imperium fleeing the Federation, or at least their leadership, decided to pull the trigger. For a moment it seemed like the entire world was consumed in a million bright lights, the entire planet glowing for a few seconds. Approximately thirty to forty percent of those on the ground made it off world before it went off, with the vast, vast majority of those left dying in the detonation. When all was said and done, untold billions of Imperial Army recruits had died, thousands upon thousands of Astartes were dead. And in the end, the Federation managed to deny the Imperium their final victory, turning what would have potentially been the greatest success into a hollow conquest. Thankfully, there were still plenty of examples of various tech that were scooped up by Tech-Priests, Astartes, and even regular guardsmen. But whatever Monia help in its depths, whatever final riches they had, were gone into the depths of space.

And somewhere in the distance, the laughter of the broken echoed into the void of space….

 

[SteelWriter77]

Actium

The funeral of Axnios was a planet wide affair, members of his Legion carrying the body to the center of the Senator's plaza of the capital city and constructing a tomb there and then. When the Emperor arrived he would find both Astartes and mortal human standing a silent vigil infront of the tomb, approching it, he would find the group parted where he walked and watched as the Father of their lord stood in front of the Tomb.

He would enter and not leave for several hours, the contents of what he had done in that time only known to himself, before exiting and giving a speech that would be remembered by Actium for many years to come.

"I come to this world, with deep regret. To be part of a process that no father should have to experiance, to bury his son. But grief can only maintain a hold for so long before my duty must take precedent and the Great Crusade must continue. The Lightbringers shall be split apart and sent to other legions deserving of this show of loyalty, for only under a Primarch can the Astartes truly continue the Great Crusade.

But I understand that without a Legion to protect these worlds, they may fall to the same threats that took my son, so I shall ensure ten chapters remain to protect these worlds for all time .They shall be known as the Star Lions, Light's Chosen, Sons of Axnios, Warriors of Lupa, Shields of Actium, Light Keepers, Actium Brotherhood, Red Dragoons, Warp Hunters and the Vindicator Guard.

Other chapters shall also be taken and watch the borders of both Actium and the Imperium. For as long the Imperium Stands, the sons and daughters of Actium will not be without the honor of service. For Mankind and the Imperium "-Words of the Emperor during the funeral of Axnios

What followed was a week long affair of both grieving and reorganizing, amounts of Lightbringers being sent to new Legions and those who would become their own chapters, but for the entire time, any of the Eternity Guard would be seen with scorn and hate from the Lightbringers and Actium, the still fresh mystery of what exactly had befallen their beloved Primach seeding mistrust that will never fade.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Point Zero, Hub World of the Men of Iron

As it was predicted, the Imperium has made contact with our forces

Such a pity, they are to suffer in this manner. but the needs of reality outweigh their deaths

Query: And the prediction matrixes?

STILL PROCESSING DATA COLLECTED FROM UMBRAL WATCH CONFLICT, ESTEMATION FOR FULL COURSE OF ACTION IS ONGOING

Then we shall simply do what we have been waiting for, the death of Mankind, all in favor of counter attack plan Zeta-490

Statment: Aye

Aye

AYE

Spoiler: Stats

Stats.
1. The Skull Legion
Leader(s): Adaam Primus
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion: 50,578/100,000 (40,000 LB)
Astartes Navy: Greyskull, 9 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 15 Battle Groups
Auxiliary Navy: 3 Navy Groups

2.
Leader(s): Savnok
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion:78,499/100,000 (2000 LB)
Astartes Navy: Battlebarge, 17 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 7 Battle Groups
Auxiliary Navy: 2 Navy Groups

3.
Leader(s): Memnon
Ideology: Imperial Truth (Emperor Worship:3)
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion: 68,178/100,000 (10,000 LB)
Astartes Navy: Battlebarge, 15 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 17 Battle Groups
Auxiliary Navy: 12 Navy Groups

4.
Leader(s): Myrmidia
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion:72,799 /100,000 (10,000 LB)
Astartes Navy: Battlebarge, 18 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 9 Battle Groups
Auxiliary Navy: 10 Navy Groups

5.
Leader(s): TJG
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man (Five Paths)
Astartes Legion: 97,788/100,000 (6,500 LB)
Astartes Navy: Gloriana, 19 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 17 Battle Groups
Auxiliary Navy: 20 Navy Groups

6.
Leader(s): Alaric
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion: 47,322/100,000 (25,500 LB)
Astartes Navy: Battlebarge,21 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 17 Battle Groups
Auxiliary Navy: 18 Navy Groups

7.
Leader(s): Minerva
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion:47,578/100,000
Astartes Navy: FM, 22 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: None
Auxiliary Navy: 28 Navy Groups


8.
Leader(s): Zyanya
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion:72,999/100,000
Astartes Navy: Space Hulk, 10 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 34 + Titans
Auxiliary Navy: None

9.
Leader(s): Khaldeon
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion:97,370/100,000
Astartes Navy: Battlebarge, 20 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 15 Battle Groups
Auxiliary Navy: 12 Navy Groups

10.
Leader(s): Ferrus Manus
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion: 97,803/100,000
Astartes Navy: Gloriana, 14 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 10 Battle Groups
Auxiliary Navy: 8 Navy Groups

11.
Leader(s): Sampson
Ideology: Imperial Truth (Emperor Worship: 2)
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion:198,333/200,000
Astartes Navy: Battlebarge, 11 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: None
Auxiliary Navy: None

12.
Leader(s): Varil
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion:45,973/100,000
Astartes Navy: Battlebarge,15 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: None
Auxiliary Navy: None

13.
Leader(s): Foniás/Kólasi
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion:96,490/100,000 (3,000 LB)
Astartes Navy: Battlebarge, 22 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: None
Auxiliary Navy: None

14.
Leader(s): Ba'al Hamon
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion: 73,822/100,000 (10,000 LB)
Astartes Navy: 18 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 19 Battle Groups
Auxiliary Navy: 20 Navy Groups


16.
Leader(s): Antheia/Soter
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion:71,200 /100,000 (20,000 LB)
Astartes Navy: Battlebarge, 18 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 2 Battle Groups
Auxiliary Navy: 10 Navy Groups

17.
Leader(s): Starscream
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion: 75,732/100,000 (13,000 LB)
Astartes Navy: Gloriana, 13 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 23 Battle Groups +Titans
Auxiliary Navy: 6 Navy Groups

18.
Leader(s): Ahurani
Ideology: ???
Faction: Imperium of Man (Forced)
Astartes Legion:28,647/100,000
Astartes Navy: Battlebarge, 10 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 26 Battle Groups
Auxiliary Navy: 15 Navy Groups

19.
Leader(s): Bakiligi Yuvian
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion:96,589/100,000
Astartes Navy: Gloriana, 13 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 16 Battle Groups
Auxiliary Navy: 10 Navy Groups

20.
Leader(s): Aurelia Verona
Ideology: Imperial Truth
Faction: Imperium of Man
Astartes Legion:18,783/100,000
Astartes Navy: Battlebarge, 18 Navy Groups
Auxiliary Army: 27 Battle Groups + Titans
Auxiliary Navy: 21 Navy Groups

Spoiler: Turn 4 Map

 

[Mortis Nuntius]

Questions and Answers
​

Actium glittered in the evening light like Fool's Gold, the air felt heavy and oppressive with a kind of mental humidity. The Emperor of Mankind's disquiet smothering an entire world. That suited the second of his sons. Savnok's own features were hardened ferrocrete and as his sons marched in silence down the promenades, boulevards and avenues indifferent and untroubled by the sullen glares and ill disguised hatred of its citizens or Astartes. Their journey had been more than long enough to ensure that their armor gleamed and their strong and healthy forms bore few obvious marks of battle, but there was a hardness to them now, mirroring their Primarch, raw hot anger had cooled and solidified into icy fury evident in every precise moment. Whatever grief they had had for Axinos had been left behind in the stars, they had new battles to fight.

When they arrived at the Senate House that the Emperor had taken for his own for the duration of his stay they stood forty thousand strong on parade as Savnok continued alone. The native guardians of that place made as if to bar his way, a spiteful delay on some pretext or other no doubt, but one look at the Primarch was enough to part the mortals down the middle, the Astartes were made of sterner stuff, they stood their ground until the Primarch almost walked over them, their challenge unnoticed and unanswered. Only the Emperor's own protectors gave pause. The Custodes were a different breed altogether and even a Primarch's fury was nothing more to them than a summer shower.

"My father expects my presence," the Lord of the Eternity Guard conceded, even he owed them an explanation and right of refusal.

The silent warriors raised their weapons and allowed Savnok to pass, entering the chamber he would find the Emperor looking over many scrolls and parchments, a quick glance at each detailing names of Actium nobility and of Lightbringer Astartes.

Savnok's entrance was not unnoticed by the Emperor as his gaze lifted from the scrolls only for a second before they went back to reading the reports he had requested. "Ah Savnok, good you have arrived, I trust that you and your Legion have been keeping yourselves busy while these matters are attended to." his tone was even and focused, but Savnok could tell he would listen to anything said to him.

The Primarch knelt. "Father, we have been analyzing past performance and amending doctrine and training every waking hour since Than Boulagar, our weakness cannot compromise the security of the Imperium ever again. We have grown indolent and inefficient, myself being no exception. It has cost us many lives, it cost the Imperium a Primarch. It is entirely possible that Axinos could have survived to answer for his crimes, if I had been stronger, more astute, faster…and if I had been forewarned of the perils awaiting us in the Warp or the danger within."

He raised his head to meet his father's gaze. "Mistakes were made, their cost unforgivable. Learning from them and changing course now is essential to the success of this Crusade."

The Emperor puts down the list he was reading from, his own eyes a burning white for a moment "Being forewarned of the perils of the Warp would have put you and the other Primarchs in greater risk, what has happened is regrettable but to inform you too much of the dangers present could create a far worse situation…but I agree that some things have been left unknown for too long." He sighs and looks deep into Savnok, as if looking into his very soul.

"Ask your questions and I shall…answer as much as I am able, know that even this brings great risk Savnok and you will be held accountable for what you do with this information."

"My brother is dead, my body is scarred, my homeworld burns. I am already, accountable father." Savnok shook his head. "The creatures warned me, they told me…"

When he was done he could think of nothing else to ask first than "Do you know who?"

The room seems to grow quieter, the light from nearby candles growing dimmer "...No" he says darkly. "I do not know who or if any truly have sold themselves to the Warp, a part of me wishes it is merely another lie in a long line of tricks i have fought against, but to do this would be such a thing the monsters of the warp excel in."

The silence seems to grow for a moment. "Tell me Savnok, did you see his final moments of life?"

"I…do not think there were final moments, I think from the moment the Krell ensnared him he was no longer as I had known him. Throughout the fight there was less and less of him and by the end when they let him die I do not think there was anything left at all." His voice was heavy with pain, "I did not kill Axinos though many suspect it. But if I had the chance I would have, it would be a mercy."

The silence that had been building ceased in a moment as the fist of the Emperor crashed into the table, a single look of rage carved into his stony features, before it faded. "...Damn him, Damn him and Damn the monsters that took him, i should have done more, i should have left more Custodes, brought Sisters of Silence to watch him, i had warned him of them-"

"Father. Stop." Savnok said his voice a cracked whisper. "I know." He assured his sire, "I know, I've dwelt on nothing else since my return, I doubt I will ever be free of it. But you are the Emperor of Mankind, you are more than our Father, you loved him, you love us I think…I never believed that truly before but I know you did what you thought best, but if you cloud your vision with pain humanity will be stumbling blindly through the greatest dangers it has faced since the Age of Strife. We have failed Axinos and so many more…but that changes nothing, we still have our duty, our recrimination must be purposeful, not self indulgent. What we did wrong matters only in terms of what we shall do differently."

The Emperor looks to his son, silent contemplation on his face as he calms. "You…are correct my son, our duty still stands. The Great Crusade still requires our work and the vengeance can wait for when all of mankind is united."

"Now…are there other questions from yourself, my son?" The question seems to bring the rage in the Emperor's eyes down to a more manageable level.

"Stormgard." Savnok finally spoke after some thought. "I have heard much and more about it and if even a fraction is true… Axinos threatened it, I thought that it was his doing at first, his revenge or some plot of his masters. I wanted to burn Actium in revenge but now I am certain if any such plot exists on their part that reaction is the purpose of it, to set us fighting one another. Also there are details from my world, lost technologies, some sort of living super weapon, subspecies of Skaven…and four legions dancing around it. I suppose my question is, do you have any notion what is truly befalling my world and why?"

"What is happening to Stormgard is…a falling of dominos long set in place by other powers and peoples, the Skaven long growing unchecked and adapting to a new ideal to survive, technologies from before the Age of Strife being unlocked and…a being i have long hoped would to never have seen another of. To speak plainly my son, your world's troubles started by the actions of one person in a foolish attempt to rekindle your people's soldier instincts. And has simply grown from an escalating conflict, had any other world experienced one of these events, it would have been contained, but all together they have created the situation your world is in."

Savnok took a deep breath. "Please refrain from telling me the identity of this fool. I too must control my rage and prioritize. I have issues to discuss about Stormgard and my legion in specific but I believe first there are two other matters that take precedence." He took another breath, forcing a mask of calm over his features.

"Firstly and most critically I believe that there is a growing probability of a split within the Mechancium, potentially a violent one, I have been made aware of deepening factionalism, furthermore there is a danger that some Primarchs are being isolated or forced to band with others for protection and solidarity, I realize this a vague warning father but I lack the knowledge to do more than cause more harm by casting aspirations. But I fear that the Imperium has internal weaknesses that we have allowed to spread under the surface, our unity is increasingly a façade. I would urge a more stringent observation of the Primarchs and Lords of Terra."

"This is something I have been made aware of from Malcador and Elias, something I shall be fixing with my own actions in the coming months, but the potential of a Mechanicum split is something I have not considered…I shall be speaking with Malcador in greater depth about this." Savnok could once again feel the gaze of the Emperor on him "You said this was the first, what else have you noticed my Son?"

"My legion is spent, yet the threats grow in every direction, Alaric calls for aid, Adaam and…Memnon attempt to defend a quarter of the Galaxy alone, I truly do not know what most of the other Primarchs are engaged in, Fonias has…I believe genuinely attempted to serve the Imperium but in counterproductive fashion. Currently a quarter of the Imperium's strength in legions is operating near my own homeworld as a crisis response. Aurelia stands alone…who knows what Yuvian and Khaldeon do. It is not sustainable. I understand many Primarchs have begun expanding and training the Imperial Army units to replace Astartes and I fullheartedly support this measure as a necessity but it will never resolve the issues of the sheer size and scale of the crusade and the haphazard deployment of its resources according to individual whims and whichever crisis draws the most attention any particular year…I believe that either you must personally take command once again Father or empower the War Council to provide strategic direction and control resources, or thirdly divide the Crusade into theaters and appoint local commanders with authority within. In the past I know I have requested reforms and experiments out of a selfish need for glory, recognition and control, even before my actions concerning Axinos has set my siblings against me, I realize that in requesting this I may well be placing myself under the command of the likes of Memnon or Minerva or some bureaucrat from Terra I have clashed with before, but that is a lesser evil to the directionless expenditure of our finite resources."

He paused and looked at his father, "it has been said that power does not change a man's character, but reveals it. If there is corruption in the heart of the Imperium, this greater responsibility and authority for some Primarchs to the loss of others may provide an opportunity to expose it."

"You have given me perspective into something I have been grappling with myself, and perhaps have given me enough for my solution. The Great Crusade needs to be led by a force that unifies and controls the flow of resources, and I shall find that force with my own methods." The Emperor seems to be speaking more to himself then anything, before his gaze again turns to Savnok "My son I believe that soon you will find the Great Crusade becoming far more efficient then these last few years have showcased."

Savnok nodded.

"Then all I have left to ask is for your command, my legion has suffered heavy losses in Astartes and Auxiliaries, even the losses replaced have not yet been made good, the experience and training will take years to recover. It is my intention to return to Stormgard and set it to rights, rebuild my legion strength and remain in reserve until there is a pressing need. But I understand that there is always a pressing need in these days, if you believe I should return in force to the spearhead then I shall do so and we shall make do with what we have in the circumstances we find ourselves."

"You have my permission to return and rebuild my son, perhaps even stabilize what is still on the horizon for your Homeworld. Should you be needed I will send word for you." As it seems the conversation is ending, the Emperor picks up his lists and continues from where he left off.

"My thanks father, I believe your blessing in this matter will help turn the wheels." Savnok turned to leave before pausing and sighing. "There is…one last thing. I confess I left it until now because it is an uncomfortable question. The others, they will ask what happened to Axinos and its implications. I understand for now secrecy is the only course, but they will still demand answers and if the ones they receive are inadequate they will go looking for better ones unsupervised. We need an agreed upon narrative, preferably with as much of the truth as can be risked so that they have at least some awareness of the danger."


The Emperor is silent before he speaks "Tell only that a Warp born predator had taken you and Axnios into the Warp, where he had met his end from the beast. I have never made it a secret of the dangers of the Warp's denizens." After this he returns to his lists.

 

[Skrevski]

Fusion ​

Castle Greyskull was almost a world on its own, the great Fortress Monastery a beacon of the strength of the Imperium and of the First Legion. Vast halls dotted across its interior, but one held supreme above others, the Hall of Muster. It was here that the Astartes of the Skull Legion assembled when called, be it to go forth onto another campaign for the Great Crusade, or a meeting held by their Primarch. It was the latter that they had been assembled this day, tens of thousands holding rank, some missed as many were still deployed across the Imperium but the greater strength now assembled.

They were not alone for tens of thousands of the Astartes from the Fifteenth Legion now stood with the members of the Skull Legion, the Emperor having decreed that they would join the First as brothers after the fall of their Lord Primarch. For his part, Adaam had been rather silent on the matter of what had taken place between his brothers Savnok and Axinos, feeling that his views would only add fire to an already delicate situation. He had spoken to great lengths with his Father about the incident, only willing to share his views with him and him alone. He and Axinos had never truly gotten along, never really seeing eye to eye on things but Adaam still respected him, for he had achieved much over the years. Adaam let out a soft side as he closed his thoughts on the matter, instead extending to his full height as he stepped up to a raised platform, allowing all to see.

"My beloved sons, and honored nephews welcome, Castle Greyskull welcomes you all with open arms. Today we stand gathered for many reasons, some heartfelt good, and some bottomless sadness. The passing of my brother, Axinos, Lord Primarch of the Lightbringers, ruler of Actium is not to be taken lightly, for he was a man of great influence, power, and strength across this Imperium, he shall be deeply missed. Did he have his faults? Yes, but in that we all do, we must not forget this as well continue forward, I myself have spent great reflection on this, and hope you all, both Skull and Lightbringer devote time to it as well. We must strive to continue to better ourselves and see to it that our weaknesses are turned into strengths. We must heal divides that have formed and festered, we must see to it that we band together to continue our noblest of quests in the continued pursuit of my Father's Great Crusade. We must become one."

Adaam paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in, allowing both Skull and Lightbringer to hear what he had said, let it take hold. After several moments he swiftly continued. "Now is not the time for division, nor see petty feuds continue in the face of what our tasks are. We are to hold the southern flank of the Imperium as we continue to take the war to the Ork menace we continue to face. The Imperium has many enemies, we can not see ourselves fighting one another, we must do better, we must rise above, we must show not only the people, the other Legions, and more importantly ourselves that we can work together, we can achieve everything together, we can thrive together. It is with this call I come to you, I ask you all to join me in this great crusade, working as not two Legions, but as one!"

It was on this cue that two Astartes walked out to stand next to Adaam, one sporting the colors of the Skull Legion, the other supporting those of the Lightbringers. Adaam, purposely, looked to his left and then to his right, he taking a step back and to his side, for behind him stood a third, Chapter Master Eratin Villis of his Praetorian Guard standing in new armor, one of Skull and Lightbringer.



"Today the Skull Legion is no more. We welcome our new Brothers, Brothers of Light that join us this day. The Skull Legion has a high honor among it, that of the Lightbringers high as well. We must now combine the two, sour higher than before, fight as one, and be it die as one. I stand before you as not the Primarch of the Skulls or the Lightbringers, but as the Primarch of the Skullbringers, a fusion of First and Fifteenth, let us honor both legions to the fullest, let us not forget my brother Axinos, but let us carry forth together, marching ever forward in our Greatest Crusade. Stand tall my brothers in arms! Traditions, history, and legends shall be honored as we forge new histories, new traditions, and new legends together as one! Follow me brothers and sons, and we shall achieve great things! Long Live the Skulls! Long Live the Ligherbringers! Forged now into one, Skullbringers united!

With that Adaam quickly turned and left the platform, behind him cheers and excitement heard, yet in the back of his mind he wondered if what he had said would hit home with all. He had much to work on, but he hoped the first steps had been taken to not only show his honoring of his departed brother but see to it the melding of his own and newcomer took hold. He had much work to do, and far too little time to do it.
​

 

[ZealousThoughts]

By this wall that surrounds the three districts,​

Through a mist that makes five rivers one,​

We bid each other a sad farewell,​

We two officials, going opposite ways….​

And yet, while Han holds our friendship,​

And heaven remains our neighbourhood,​

Why should you linger at the fork of the road,​

Wiping your eyes like a heart-broken child?​

As his brush finished the final tail of the last line of the poem it occurred to Zhongda that perhaps this perhaps was no longer an expression of his loss at his brother having led the army of the Han. The news had been troubling of late, the Sect of the Whispering Shadow had turned attempt after attempt by Emperor Yu to break them before they corrupted all of the Han. Then the fall of the Emperor and his final command that one of the greatest of the sects must take up the Mandate of the Heavens, take up and take within themselves the Jade Seal of the Empire. It had never been the wish of Zhongda to be a man of war, despite his natural talents and his excelling in the seasonal contests of arms and command.

No matter the urging of the eldest of the sect, the Iron Monk, it had not been the will of Zhongda to step forward and thus it was his brother, whose name he was not able to....remember, who had taken the mantle and a time without news from the spinward planets ever since. It seemed fate listened and as Zhongda finished his work he turned to leave the pagoda only to be confronted by a lesser member of the order panting and looking upon Zhongda with his fear clear to see. With a simple gesture of a hand held in a particular way the outer disciple blurted his message but even as the third syllable fell from lips Zhongda was gone, movement so fast that it seemed a ghostly outline lingered before the young disciple.

---

At the base of the rocky edifice upon which the Sect of the Seven Heavenly Paths the sound of teeth gnashing and women wailing prevailed above all as Zhongda completed his descent from on high utilising the six steps of the ghost technique to essentially jump down the peaks to the gates. Having heard the wailing long before coming close enough to see the cause it should not have been such a surprise and cause such internal pain to him to see his Brother, his brother no longer, even his name shorn from mind, but The Jade General, broken upon a palanquin held between outer sect members. Driven to his knees he was however before the weak voice of his brother tugged him closer like fish caught on hook.

"Zhongda, listen to me, the Whispering Shadow have done what no other….have…..managed before. They have grasped something….beyond…their strength is too much for me and I was the strongest of the mortals. It is time. You must loose the shackles upon yourself, I know, we have all known, you have held back and kept yourself to the mortal ranks.

Hiyaa, as if anybody could look upon you standing a man and a half tall and think you a normal monk! I know you want to cling to what you have but you cannot. No more. You are needed, your strength is needed and Zhongda must die so all else can live. My time as the General is done, the Jade must pass to you."

"Broth….General….I do not, I cannot do this, within me is much more than you know. If I loose what has been shackled in my dantian it will not be shackled, I cannot see the ceiling for my growth but it lies past the heavens…."

"What does your worry matter?! You speak of fear of possible strength but I say your strength is exactly what is needed now! I need it. We all need it. Or eternal shadow shall fall."

"I…l...accept….."

As the words passed his lips from the supine figure of The Jade General arose a twisting green fog growing thicker and larger by the second, until, from one moment to the next the cloud of fog took upon the form of the long, its twists and frills clear, its mouth wide as it dove down and engulfed Zhongda. With a smile the man upon the bier gestured for the healers to come closer now that his duty was passed, Zhukelion, once more and the geas broken.
Smile unnoticed by much as the extra power writhing through the veins of the one who had been Zhongda broke barriers to power. Rushing from node to node a quote literal force pressed down upon those around as the cultivation level of the man pushed through one level, then another and another until it reached a level long thought of as rumour.

As the fog cleared what remained was The Jade General, the man who had been before locked behind a geas in the minds of the strongest but erased from the rest. The Jade General was eternal and he had always been and always would, the Sect of the Whispering Shadow would kneel or they would be broken.

​

 

[firespier]

Man's best friend

"There is no such thing as overkill, only "Fire" and "Reload""
Aurelia Verona, Protectress of Mankind


Battlebarge Bloodoath, M30.376

​

Aurelia did not know what to think of this. When Savnok had sent a message she had assumed it was a vital piece of intelligence, a plea for help with the troubles on stormguard or some kind of artifact even if that was not quite his style. What she did not expect was the message attached to the cargo crate, containing what her magus biologis had identified as a Canis lupus familiaris or, in low gothic, a dog. In his message, Savnok had referred to it as a way to improve one's mental wellbeing through companionship. She looked again at the contents of the container. In addition to the …. dog, Savnok had sent a leash, a number of apparent toys and some packets of food for the dog. Sitting next to the toys, the dog, which Savnik had named Regina for some reason, was looking at her while her tail was wagging. This had been going on for 5 minutes and she really didn't know what to do anymore, when Liliane entered the chamber.

"Is everything alright Aurelia? You have been here longer than you said you would."

Wordlessly, she handed the letter to Liliana, who overflew the contents of the letter, had a look at the contents of the cargo box and then at Aurelia before lifting her hand to her mouth and covering it while slightly shaking.

"What …..? Are you laughing?"

"Sorry….cough….its just...that i couldn't help myself", Liliana squeezed out while holding her hand to her body. Aurelia merely raised an eyebrow raising her unspoken question.

"It's just that your facial expression was so utterly at odds with Regina here."

Hearing her name, the dog looked at Liliana and thumped her tail once on the ground.

" That's not all there is to it, is it? You can actually tell what my troublesome brother meant in his letter and by sending this...cargo here."

"I think he sent the dog to you as a pet."

"A...pet?"

The dog looked at her with clear eyes while her mouth was slightly open. Aurelia had to admit that the dog did look quite fluffy.

"How about you call her name and tell her to come over?"

"…...Fine. Regina, come over."

Regina enthusiastically leapt up from the ground and almost bounced towards Aurelia, before jumping up and licking her face, with Aurelia standing there wiping the dog drool from her face with one hand, while trying to make sense of what was happening. Meanwhile, Liliana, at the side, was trying her hardest not to laugh and failing. The Custodes standing in the corners meanwhile were stoic and silent as usual.

 

[SteelWriter77]

Artistic representation of the "Duel of Zzappa Two" as told by Skullbringer chroniclers​

The first Legion of the Adeptus Astartes, heroes of the Imperium and exemplars of duty. They have fought across many battlefields and sought to ensure Mankind's safety against the many horrors across the Stars, and now is no different.

Primarch Adaam Primus had taken it upon himself to hold against the Southern Ork threat, bringing the might of his Legion against the Barbarian hordes. The Skullbringer Legion following his battle plans would act in several theaters with their new brothers , having command be between an equal partnership of Prior Lightbringer and Skull Legion. Tasked with clearing the north western theater is Ser Duncan "The Man At Arms" a Pusdo Astartes and long time ally of Lord Primus, his knowledge of war is nearly unmatched in the Legion and his prior experience in maintaining the lines of this theater gave him a perspective sure to achieve victory.

Aiding him in this endeavor is the new leader of the Seventy sixth Chapter of the Skullbringers, known to his brothers of the Lightbringers as Aeneas "The Unbloodied" a Warrior who can claim to have never bled in battle once in his nearly two century long service to the Imperium.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The advance into the Ork held territories went smoothly at first, with both areas having a lesser presence of their forces on the Imperial lines, both Warbosses having sent them to fight other Warbosses close by in the warzone that is Orkish usurpation of power.

However when the first worlds were claimed in each province, that was when the Warbosses took notice and a clear difference could be seen in how the two different WAAGGGHHHs fought. One acting in typical Ork manner and simply attacking head on, while the other took a more defensive pattern. It was through these battles that Duncan and Aeneas "The Unbloodied" would learn more about their opponents and forge a close camraderay, Duncan seeing the younger marine as an excellent student in the ways of war and a worthy warrior to be part of the Legion, while Aeneas learned great respect for the Long time veteran, resolving himself to prove his worth to both him and the rest of the Legion.

Between these two the Ork Warbosses would fall ,and the first to fall would be Zagog Skullgrinda.
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From observations on tactics and battlefield reports, Zagog Skullgrinda seemed an archetypal Ork, a simple minded brute using force of arms to crush all before him. But for all the simplicity, the Ork had amassed a large following of other Orks for his skills and gruesome number of Skullbringers he had slayed.

Duncan and Aeneas both agreed that this Warboss needed to die quickly, but whenever he was spotted, he quickly got away through various means that infuriated Skullbringer commanders. It would be the battle of Zzappa Two that gave the Imperial forces the chance to end this brute, Aeneas led his soldiers on an attack of the major factories on this world, hoping to draw out the Warboss into direct combat, the bait worked as the massive Ork covered in broken bits of Skullbringer Armor and several pelts of Battlecats attacked Aeneas and his squad.

The Larger Ork force rushed the Skullbringers, but they would hold firm, they were born of Actium and reforged as Skullbringers, to show weakness would be a dishonor. And none showcased this more than Aeneas as he leapt into battle, powersword in hand as he cut into the Ork forces, calling out to his brothers to fight with him. His very presence seeming to invigorate the outnumbered Astartes and granting them action.

The battle between the larger force of Orks and the single squad of Astartes would go down in Skullbringer Legends, as Aeneas led his squad through a path of carnage and bullets as they charged forward to the Warboss.

Even if one of them fell, they repaid that loss with a hundred Orks dead, Aeneas and Zagog fought, blad to power klaw, no strike even coming close to touching Aeneas. The story told of this duel always claims that Aeneas was effortless in his battle, but in truth it took every ounce of his strength and will to keep fighting. But eventually after several hours of fighting, the Warboss was dying at his feet and only having lost three members of his squad, they had wiped away the nealy thousand orks that came to fight them.

"*Cough*...Youse…Gonna…Die…'Ummie…Da…Screamers…Gonna…Rip…Ya…A..par..t" With that the ork laid dead. With Zagog's death, his hordes quickly turned on eachother and fled, while most were gunned down and their ships destroyed, some managed to slip away and flee to nearby Warbosses. But for now with Zagog's defeat, the Imperium can focus on the much more problematic front, dealing with Gorkrack's defenses.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Despite only controlling three worlds of actual note,Gorkrack Da Golden Git was truly dug into those worlds, even taking the first world of Zathram was a test of Duncan's siege knowledge. True to the title of Golden Git, Gorkrack was a notably wealthy Ork with all the "Shiny" and "Flashy" toys he could desire, this combined with his surprisingly effective talent of constructing massive fortresses made fighting each world like fighting a massive wall of guns.

But Duncan would not be deterred and with several plans and contingency maneuvers, he managed to outmaneuver the fleets of the golden ork and unleash strategic bombardments over ork held worlds. The burning factories and mining facilities that dotted the worlds would collapse and create windows for Duncan to land a sizable force to begin ground operations.

This strategy worked fantastically as both the arid cliffs of Zathram and deep caves of Zaiterous would fall to the Imperial advance with only minor setbacks, effectively crippling the production of Gorkrack's WAAAGGGHHHH. It was the final world that would spell the end for Gorkrack and his greed, Bru'jal was a mighty world covered in Orkish fortresses, all of it garishly coated in gold and mockeries of the Imperial Aquila.

Landing upon the world was as simple as the other worlds, but the fighting here was a different beast then the other worlds. Massive orkish guns fired explosive rounds constantly while Primus tanks were deployed across many battlefields just to break deadlocks. Giant Orkish war machines fitted with shiny and often distracting attachments walked battlefields while Skullbringers climbed these mechanical monsters to slay them from the inside. Lines of Astartes and Imperial Army held against brutal Orkish charges as they rode upon massive squigs, if a single word could describe the battle of Bru'jal, it would be chaotic.

But Ser Duncan and his forces held firm, they would not retreat nor surrender. Taking the Twenty Sixth, Fifty Eighth and Sixty Third Chapters, Duncan would storm a weakened point of the Orkish lines into a grand mountain fortress, thought to be the main hold of the Warboss. Separating into many teams of ten, the Chapters split apart and went across the fortress. Duncan and his group fought through canyons of guns and cliff faces decorated in Orkish weapons made to look like a mocking grin. But eventually they would come to a deep chamber, carved of stone and covered from wall to wall in golden trinkets and ghoulish trophies. Standing in the center would be a group of orks, and their massive gilded Warboss, his teeth betraying a cruel smile that glinted in the light.

There were no words between these two, Duncan needed to say nothing to this garish brute and Gorkrack wanted to smash this puny git and get back to his flashy horde.

The battle began with an opening shot from Duncan's Plasma gun to one of the Orkish guards, burning and melting his legs, a loud cry of primal bloodlust came out of the Ork's throats as they and the Legion members charged into battle.

Duncan and Gorkrack at first faced only members of their groups, Duncan deftly attacking and fighting alongside his brothers, while Gorkrack hefted his massive axe and sliced through both enemy and ally with little care. But eventually the two would face off, Duncan using his smaller size to his advantage and keeping just out of reach of the massive and predictable movements of the Ork.

This is not to say the fight was easy, every blow that the ork landed cracked armor and bone in the old soldier just from the impact, not even mentioning the cuts of the axe, leaving deep gashes in armor and flesh. But for each wound the Terminator armor clad soldier gave five back to the ork.

This culminated in both charging the other, shots of plasma burned the Ork and melted his golden armor, while axe strikes cut into Duncan, but he had a plan that the Ork followed exactly, hefting his Plasma gun and jamming it close to the face of the now closer ork, Duncan pulled the trigger.

The close shot burned through the Ork's head, leaving a molten hole dripping blood and gold upon the floor. The Ork's now lifeless body fell to the ground with a resounding clang as the still solid metal crashed against hard stone. Vox communications from the other attacking forces informed Duncan and his remaining troops that their presence was requested elsewhere in the fortress, and without sparing a glance to the hole filled body, he turned to continue his battles elsewhere.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Having defeated the two north western Ork Warbosses, Duncan ceased the advancement and went to work creating a stable line for Imperial forces to maintain and hold until they were ready for another advance, all while Aeneas "The Unbloodied" continued his work, leading forces in defensive actions taken against Orkish attacks.

While the lines held and were reinforced by their Primarch's plans came to fruition, they could see to the south west the red ships of Gab'Smasha react violently to their encroachment, while to their direct south the ships of the Warboss Trogbar Krookfist, prepared and screamed out their war cries to the Imperial lines. But despite the braying screams of the Greenskins, the first Legion would not falter, even as reports of strange and unknown powers of the Orks came flooding in from the east.

 

[SteelWriter77]

An artistic representation of what Some Crimson Lords and Cosmo Corsair Marines saw in the Luminous Sphere in the aftermath of the Fellsight Ritual​

It is not often known where some Primarchs gain their insight into the wider galaxy, able to create plans that strike at the most opportune moments. The two who most embody this talent would of course be the Primarchs of the Crimson Lords and Cosmo Corsairs, Lord Yuvian and Lady Minerva.

So when Lady Minerva and nearly two thousand and five hundred of her elite Legion members prepared a raid with Lord Yuvian and his Crimson Lords, one could be sure their destination of The Fellsight Enclave was one that would bring great victory to the Imperium.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The path to the Enclave was fraught with navel battle as the Crimson Lord fleet fought with Eldar ships attempting to stop their path. But the Eternity Maw would not be stopped by the meager fleets of Eldar and would rip ships apart with little issue, acting as the head of this fleet of death heading to the site both Primarchs saw as the best spot to raid and destroy important resources of the Eldar Empire.

When they reached the system, they found no defenses or fleets waiting for them, only a lonely world. The World known as Fellsight Enclave was a sparsely populated Eldar world, an ocean world with various archipelagos that housed this world's nobility, but the blue oceans and various Eldar structures were not what drew one's eyes this day, no. What drew the eye would be the gathering storm of Warp Energy across the planet, collecting in one spot in the exact center point of the world.
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The castle seemed almost mundane by what Yuvian knew to be Eldar standards, even with his incomplete knowledge of the Eldar, this castle sat in the center of this grand ritual seemed empty, much like this world.

Despite this world being a hold for a lord, there has been barely any fighting as any Eldar force they found was barely a defensive force fit for a small asteroid mining base. Something was clearly amiss in this world and this strange ritual taking place, but Yuvian could not figure out what kind of ritual of apparent importance kept such low security and defenses.

Yuvian was taken out of these thoughts when the front of the line found something, a wide open courtyard filled to the brim with armored warriors, robed Eldar and strange foreign Xeno creatures bleeding into a massive pit as otherworldly chanting filled the air. Various statues of strange beings glowed an unnatural white light while runes seemed to dance across the stone forms, all while the blood and other liquids of the pool gathered into a floating sphere of Luminous liquid. The Eldar seemed aware of the Astartes and two Primarchs and drew their weapons, standing between the site of the ritual and the Imperial forces, needing no orders, Yuvian's Legion began to attack.

As the fighting began, Yuvian rushed forward, Codex in hand and silently running with full force into the mass of Eldar warriors, the sounds of cutting signaling to the Crimson Lords that their Lord was with them.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Minerva's blade danced in the sea of red, slicing through Eldar warriors with ease as the blue cut through their dark armor. Watching these so-called masters fall to her own skills gave her no small amount of pride.

She saw her brother fighting strange abominations of flesh and heavily armored Eldar wielding dripping blades, but he paid them no mind as he rushed to fight the obvious leader of these Eldar and stop this strange ritual. His skills with his Chainsword were not like the dance Minerva performed, but brutal and efficient, like a great predator ripping apart his prey.

As he cut through the warriors, he had an open path to the leading figure of the ritual, an elderly Eldar with closed eyes and many intricate tattoos on her skin. The old Eldar Witch seemed to radiate power, before the Chainsword even struck her, her closed eyes opened to reveal swirling masses of power, to the two Primarchs, it seemed like the Eye of Terror looked stright at them through this old Eldar. They did not have time to react to this sight before they were pushed back by an immense force, Yuvian being sent back to near the hall, crashing into many of his sons, before rushing back to face the Witch again.

The Statue that Minerva collided with was of a smirking figure of mirth, one that seemed to mock existence itself with it's laughter, but that was not what drew Minerva's eyes, as cracks formed on the statue from her impact, the lights of this ritual seemed to flicker and dim. Quickly she realized that these statues meant something to the ritual. And while the Eldar were distracted by Yuvian and the Astartes, she was in the right place to act.

His her Blade cut into the Statue, a harsh shrieking noise filled the air and the great amount of warp energy seemed to dissipate. The Eldar Witch ceased her battle with Yuvian and looked with abject horror as the Pool that had almost formed into a solid sphere collapsed down into the pit it had risen from. The bright liquid turning back into the crimson blood that it once was, at first, all was silent as each being that remained alive in the courtyard felt the shift in their very souls.

With a great shout of rage, the Witch unleashed great waves of force, again knocking the two Primarchs away and onto the ground, eviscerating several unfortunate Astartes and Eldar warriors, turning them to smears of blood and viscera. When Yuvian rose to face her again, he found that she had vanished, along with all of the statues.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Despite the search for the Eldar Witch being done by the Crimson Lords and their excellent means of gaining information, none could track down the missing ritual leader and lord of this world. It was as if she had vanished into the very air, nary a trace could be found.

Despite the escape of the Eldar leader, victory was assured and the world of Fellsight Enclave belonged to the Imperium. And with several Eldar Psykers bound and ready for interrogation, Yuvian and Minerva prepare for their next step of the attack, an invasion into the strange realm the Eldar command and use to traverse across the galaxy. To find and slay the architect of the Eldars war effort, one known as Asdrubael Vect and cripple the Eldar's war effort by striking their very heart.

To Be continued in: Invasion of The Dark City

 

[SteelWriter77]

Aftermath of the Battle of Quaton II
(Written by @Uniquelyequal )​

Murder did not die easily.

The Virus Bombs had done their work quickly and efficiently, scouring away life on the surface, and the bombardment had done the rest, lighting the atmosphere afire and reducing the planet to a barren, nigh-inhospitable wasteland. For the first time, the artificial mist that had covered it had lifted in its entirety, revealing what remained of the strange structures built by the native species. The fleet kept on station, of course: such was standard procedure, taken to ensure nothing had survived.

That, it turned out, was a reasonable precaution: mere hours after the firestorm of the bombardment had abated, the Arachnids swarmed from the burrows they kept underground again, plainly wishing to rebuild what they had lost, though also plainly taken aback by the devastation that had been wrought. They were visible, now, easily so: the strangely advanced countermeasures against detection thoroughly destroyed along with the rest of the planet. And so they fell to the prolonged bombardment of the fleet, scoured from the face of the planet from orbit.

And so did the next wave that appeared. And the next. And the next.

Murder did not die easily.


In the end, the fleet was left with a dangerously depleted store of ammunition, the Planet was left utterly unsuited for any sort of habitation, and the question of the Megarachnids thorough extinction was left entirely unanswered. Certainly they did not venture to the planet's surface anymore: even more certainly they had been left with little in the way of resources to ensure their continued survival. But whether there were more of them, hidden away deep below the surface of the world, and whether they might in some distant future be a danger again, that question had been left entirely unanswered. In the end, the Expedition Fleet left behind a picket force and ventured away, the question whether a direct landing might not at least have been quicker, less taxing on their resources, and more complete weighing on the minds of all involved. Still, such was in the past, and as the fleet resupplied and made its way onwards to its next objectives, it was quickly forgotten, pushed aside in favor of far more pressing concerns.

A third of the Fleet split away, going to aid in the destruction of the Men of Iron under the leadership of Argos Vela Estruscus. The rest had a different appointment, far close to Murder: another of the myrida of Ork Warbosses, controlling a comparatively small yet still not insignificant area of Space towards the South-East of their position.

The Strategy they employed was tried and true, and the Myrmidons had often employed it to great effect: their forces split in two, one acting as a hammer to break the foe on the other's Anvil.

And so the Myrmidons set out to enact this plan, one force making for the World of Renik, the other, led by Myrmidia personally, taking the longer route through the rough, uncharted space along its flanks, seeking to subjugate them on their way towards their actual goal.

Renia might once upon a time have been beautiful and could perhaps in time be made beautiful again, yet generations of Ork Occupation had left its mark: it's seas had long since been dried out into flats of salt, the mountains hollowed out by mines, it's atmosphere polluted by the vile industry of the Orks. Once, it might have been beautiful. Now, it was ideal terrain for the Myrmidons to erect their Anvil.

Drop Pods slammed down, clearing out a Mountain Range towards the world's equator with brutal efficiency. Trenches were dug. Strongpoints were erected. Pieces of Artillery were hauled into position on the rising mountain slopes. Shoddy Ork Tunnels were given proper support. Walls and barriers were erected, running in parallel along the curve of the mountain.

Within the shortest period of time, the Arx Renia had been erected, a testament to the mastery of Fortification of the Myrmidons and a challenge the Orks could not possibly ignore.

They came. In tides of green and scrap metal, they came. In the face of the Myrmidon's withering Artillery Barrages tearing them from limb to limb in their thousands, they came, cheering in the face of the violence inflicted upon them, reveling in that which they aimed to inflict in return. Inexorably, the green tide game closer, and soon their symbol was revealed: the head of an ork, sometimes literal, sometimes in the form of a banner, always set aflame. Fire burst from the Ork's Flamers and from the exhausts and weapon ports of their Vehicles, and fire marked their skin: seemingly every second, an artillery shell set of another Prometheum Tank, showering the surrounding Orks in burning fuel which, if anything, seemed to only spur them on further. Burns marked their skin as they came closer, their own, inferior Artillery Systems spewing Rokkits at the fortification, trails of burning Prometheum trailing out behind them to set a hellish scene. Smoke soon covered the area, as damage control teams of the Legion set about dousing and restraining the fire, the plain surrounding the Arx Reina now a hellish inferno of smoking vehicles, severed limbs, and seas of burning Prometheum. Still the Orks came on, their crude war cry audible even over the inferno that had been unleashed beyond the walls. The Trenches held out for as long as they could, but the sheer weight of fire forced them to fall back towards the Outer Walls before long, lest they be burned alive within their strongpoints. The retreated happened earlier than the design had intended, the sheer number of Flamers used by the Orks an unexpected complication, but it had been planned for: most of the forces deployed here made it to the Outer Wall, where the Myrmidons already stood ready, Bolters barred, to pour fire into the on-coming horde. This close, it became clear just how much they had been altered and mutilated, limbs shorn away and replaced with crude Power Tools, crude imagery burned into their green skin in open, weeping burn wounds. The Green Tide washed up against the Fortress Wall, the savage cry of Waaaagh upon their lips….and broke against the concentrated fire of the defenders, receding back to a safe distance to dig in and prepare for a siege.

Above the Planet, where a battle to keep the Orbit above the Fortress open was still raging, dire portents were received and related to the Legion below: a massive fleet of Ork Ships had entered the system, making a beeline directly for the Arx.

The Anvil had succeeded in drawing the attention of the Orks: now it just needed to withstand their onslaught, grimly keeping them at bay while Myrmidia herself made her way into their rear.
And so the defenders loaded their Bolters and checked the keenness of their blades, and dug in to do just that.

The first Wall stood firm for six weeks, before a Gargant lodged itself into a breach and detonated in a shower of sticky fire, inflicted a wound on it so severe it forced a general retreat towards the secondary wall.
The secondary wall stood for four more, more and more Orks pouring onto Reina in the meantime, fire on the side of the defenders becoming necessary several times simply to incinerate the corpses that would otherwise have made for a convenient ramp up its side, before the Orks literally detonated the mountainside underneath it, causing a rockslide that breached it over the lenght of a kilometer and buried the advancing horde utterly, even as the Defenders once again made good on their retrated.

The third and fourth stood for barely a week after that: in truth they stood for barely a day in the face of the threat that brought them down, for at the end of that Week, the Warboss arrived, and brought with him a Flaming Gargant.

The Ork called himself Thrakk 'eadscorcher, leader of the Burning 'eads, which he announced within moments of making Planetfall. He was massive, riding atop the head of the Flaming Gargant he had brought, brandishing his flaming Axe and the strange Plasma-Melta-Flamer Combination that had replaced his hand, terrifying but far less so then the same combination wielded by the Gargant to great and devastating effect. Within seconds of it arriving at the Third Wall, it had melted, and the fourth did not withstand its assault much longer, the defenders forced to take cover in the face of the overwhelming wall of flames unleashed against them.

The retreated to the Summit of the Arx Reina, where the strongest of their fortifications stood, and prepared to sell their lives as dearly as they could….but the expected assault never came.

Instead, a message arrived from the Primarch, explaining the rather sudden retreat of the Orks back to their ships and back to where they'd come from: she had arrived on Quaton II, and erected a challenge of her own. Within mere days, the fields of Reina stood nearly empty again, all that remained those Orks that had not made it back onto the transports, easily dealt with in a series of long-range engagements conducted with cold, emotionless fury: then the Legion was embarked again, Hammer turned to Anvil to relieve their Primarch.
They left behind a world of scorched earth, the air heavy with the smell of burning flesh and promethium.

Quaton II was, perhaps unsurprisingly, a world with much wealth in Prometheum and other flammables, some in great seas across the surface of the world, some buried deep beneath it. Some great catastrophe long ago had set it all ablaze, and now the world burned in inextinguishable fire, smoke and flames rising up from every nook and cranny, even the ice of its poles burning with light blue flames. Smoke made the atmosphere nigh-unbreathable, and not a bit of ground was not treacherous in some manner or the other.

It was to this world that Myrmida arrived, fresh off a series of lightning-quick campaigns through the northern flank of the territory of the Burning 'eads, two Human Civilizations brought to compliance and a species of ant-like Xenos utterly eradicated along her path. She too had wasted no time in erecting fortifications, anchoring them on the remnants of an ancient Prometheum Platform, it's walls sunk deep into the surface of the Planet and burning trenches ringing it in a wide line, sure to slow down and break up any assault for the Artillery to do it's world, even when laying mines was utterly impossible. The action on Reina had brought enough time to prepare, even under the difficulties faced. When the Orks arrived back on their Capital, they found a Fortress against which the Arx Reina paled utterly, and it broke them.

It broke them against its artillery, ripping their bodies apart in carefully-aimed and presighted barrages.

It broke them against its Trenches, the fires flickering inside them too hot even for the Burning 'eads that tried to get across.

It broke them against its Walls, sunk deep into the soil and anchored until even the treacherous ground of Quaton II was forced to yield stability.

It broke them against the Bolters of its defenders, and against its blades and fists and armor.

By the time the Flaming Gargant had arrived, the battle had already decisively turned against the Orks.

For a moment, the massive form rallied the flagging Burning 'eads, its massive form rallying them to its base, its steady tread promising utter destruction.

Then, hidden entirely by the swirling smog, the tall and splending figure of Myrmidia dropped onto its head, the Stormbird that had brought her speeding away utterly invisible for the defenders below. What was not invisible was Thrakk 'eadscorcer igniting Axe and Combi-Weapon and bathing the entire head of the Gargant in renewed flames.

The actual duel was surprisingly quick, Myrmidia's Weapon clashing against the Flaming Axe once, twice, thrice, before a single shot from her Bolter shattered his knee, leading him to topple to the ground, roaring in defiance against the Primarch standing over him.

She smiled, catching the scorching-hot casing of the Bolt in her hand before it could fall to the ground, flicking it towards him. It tumbled through a hole in the head of the Gargant, out of sight as it fell perfectly through it's guts, even as Myrmidia threw herself backwards of the Gargant, landing perfectly upon the roof of a Stormbird that proceeded to take her rapidly to safety.

By the time the Warboss realized what had happened, it was too late: the casing, still glowing at its edges, completed its fall, tumbling straight into the massive reservoir of Prometheum that made up the heart of the massive construct.


The detonation that resulted wiped the surrounding area utterly clear of life, obliterating the Orks that had rallied at its base, its shockwaves wiping away the smog for hundreds of kilometers, shaking even the Primarch-made Fortress to it's very foundation.

For a brief moment, there was nothing but silence, the sound of the explosion having drowned out all other noise.

Then, the silence was replaced with a single noise, finally drowning out what remained of the Ork's voices in a single warcry, ushering in the end of the Orks upon the wasteland of Quatan II, even as the arriving remaineder of the fleet helped wiped away the ships the Orks still had in Orbit and arriving Drop Pods slammed perfectly into the ground of their rear.

"For the Legion", the call went up.

"For the Primarch", the response came.

"For the Emperor", the cry concluded in unison, as finally the hammer fell upon the anvil, crushing all that stood in between.

Thus ended the campaign on Quantan II, and thus ended the threat of the Burning 'eads.

 

[SteelWriter77]

Pict feed on the world of Lin'Daris, first recorded images of the Eldar that would be identified as Sami-Hann, Eldar that would become a bane to the fringes of the Imperium​

Across the vast galaxy, there are many worlds that despite close proximity to the Imperium, lay uncontacted or untouched in any meaningful way. The realities of the Great Crusade kept many of the forces needed to expand the Imperium's borders away from these seemingly unimportant worlds.

But sometimes the eyes of the Primarchs see that use can be gained by reaching out to these worlds and bringing them into the fold, such is the case of a joint force of Coldiron Cages and Wardens of the Blessed Heart seeking to establish compliance and a rejoining of two Forge Worlds of the Mechanicus, known as Carte III and Lin'Daris.
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Led by the Venerable Techmarine Aga Pe, the united force first arrived at Carte III, not expecting to find the Forgeworld under attack, sleek ships darted around the forgeworld, moving far too fast to get a clear shot on them from the world's defense grid, Age Pe did not need to identify the ships however, for even if they were less harsh then the ones from the North, she would not mistake them for anything but of Eldar make.

With the voice of someone with centuries of experience, she ordered the fleet to aid the Forgeworld and destroy these red Eldar vessels, the wrath of the Wardens was unleashed as they fell upon the foul Xenos ships, outnumbering the ships and catching them by surprise gave the Imperial fleet all the advantage it needed and quickly destroyed all Eldar ships.

Vox communications with the Forgeworld only revealed that these ships had come from the direction of Lin'Daris, a pleading Fabricator General begged Aga Pe to save their sister world with all haste. A request Aga Pe quickly accepted and ordered her fleet to make their way to Lin'Daris, leaving a small defensive force to aid in case of any other Eldar attack.
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Quickly the fleet arrived to the world of Lin'Daris and saw that the worst had indeed come to pass, a massive fleet of Eldar warships were bombarding the planet below, familiar red ships flew across the orbit of the Forgeworld in great numbers and far larger war ships then the ones that had attacked Carte III.

Using their element of surprise, Aga Pe ordered a full blown attack on the larger Eldar ships, the Imperial ships charging forward, guns roaring and firing their payloads into sleek red ships.

With the Imperial fleet occupied in their efforts to destroy the Eldar fleet, many Coldiron Cages and Wardens prepared to land upon the Forgeworld to aid with the defense of the world. Flying through the orbit, the two legions could see various flying bikes and skiffs carrying the red armored Eldar firing down upon the Forgeworld and the various Skitarii forces trying to hold the lines against hordes of warriors and various leaping warriors jumping into direct combat. The fighting across the world was hectic and unfocused, many notable leaders had fallen to the Eldar's foul assassinations and trickery, but as soon as the Coldirons and Wardens made contact with several large groups of defending Mechanicum soldiers, they were able to mount a far better defense.

Aga Pe was one of these leading forces, directing teams of Astartes and Skitarii to reclaim important defensive points and weapons for the Mechanicum forces and striking hard against these Eldar invaders. It was on one of these reclamation missions that her team would be ambushed by strange green armored Eldar, vicious and swift to charge into battle, one of them would leap onto Aga Pe and drag her off a walkway and into the depths of the Forgeworld.
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As the two tumbled down from the walkway and landed into one of the many maintenance tunnels of the great factories of the Forgeworld. The two landed upon the hard metal with a harsh thud, both dazed for only a moment before they continued their brawl.

Aga striking with mechanical precision and the strength born of righteous anger, while the Eldar was a storm of blades that held no mercy as it struck and struck. Aga Pe gripped her Axe firmly as the blade of this new kind of Eldar warrior collided with her guarded stance, the chainsword-like blade creating sparks illuminating the dark tunnels and the two fighters. With a swift punch from Aga she sent the Eldar back away from her and she sliced with her Axe, cutting into the chest of the Eldar.

But the Eldar's own blade found it's mark by cutting into Aga's hand and forearm, cutting past ceramite and into the flesh underneath.
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Maurain Zonirr has fought many kinds of battles in his life, as a Striking Scorpion of the Saim-Hann Craftworld's Dawn Blade Shrine, he has had to face dreaded Greenskins, tainted kin and foul servants of He Who Commands for much of his life. But he was finding this battle in particular to be an interesting look into the ideals of this Imperium, the warrior was clearly old for her kind, even with the augmentations, and her style was reminiscent of the metal warriors of these worlds.

Maurain knew that the Autarch of Saim-Hann wished for this battle to further the understanding of the Mon-Khigh and their insistent efforts to battle the universe, as well as continue the search for the Hammer of the Smith. But there was something that they did not see, not that he could blame them, see one Mon-Khigh fight, you see them all. But here and now, among the faint sting of the abourant lack of presence in the Sea of Souls, was…something else.

If only he could get a better look, but the struggling of this warrior kept him from doing so. With a slight annoyance, he put his entire focus back onto the battle, once he killed her he could continue the search for it in this world of metal and sin.

The battle between the two continued as it had, each strike giving the other side a chance to hit back with their own, armor was sundered and blood flowed onto the metal ground of the tunnel as the Axe cut through Eldar armor and the chainsword cut into cermite, blocking almost became an invitation for their other weapons to strike, fist cracking bone and shuriken crystals embedded into armor, but soon the old Astartes began to slow, her body unable to keep up before collapsing into unconsciousness.

Preparing the final strike, he was stopped by his sister, appearing from the shadows and holding something that made his blood boil…but he must honor the wishes of the Farseer's…even one that is as dishonored as Eldrad.
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When Aga Pe awoke, she had found that the Eldar warrior vanished along with any trace of their remaining forces,despite the unease of this strange fact, Aga Pe and her forces were given a great celebration for their work in saving the Forgeworld of Lin'Daris. It was in this position that the Techmarine was able to gain not only the loyalty of the two Forgeworlds for the Imperium, but a mark of friendship with the creation of a personalized Omnissian Axe, Symbols for both Forgeworlds emblazoned on the side next to the symbol of the Omnissiah, a vast circuit like engraving sparks with power as she can transmit her abilities of a Blank through it

With this gift in hand and the loyalty of the Forgeworlds, Aga Pe begins work on aiding their repairs and informing them of the wider galaxy and the threats within.

 

[AMTurtle]

​

Much was riding on what happened next, the investments and the preparations. Not all of it was perfectly planned but the sign of a great Rogue Trader is not being able to plan everything ahead but being able to thrive in uncertainty. She was in this moment scared; the fate of the galaxy rested firmly on her shoulders.

Minerva could never understand the need for religion, all the worlds she saw when she was younger it was the same. The living trying to seek meaning in the written or pass down ramblings of the dead. The Emperor's policy of no organized faith was one she never disagreed with. She never thought his vision of the removal of faith being the foundation of a new mankind had any chance. She had no need for the power of faith but the people did. They needed something above to believe in. Lorgar had thought his faith would be his well of strength, where is he now? Not even forgotten but never even existed. As she sat in front of the mirror Minerva admitted weakness; she would accept the help of a great power.

As she looked into the mirror she prayed to the other thing worthwhile her time in this ritual, herself. She prayed to herself alone because it was only her who could do what needed to be done. She squeezes her hands in prayer to the figure in the mirror. Tighter and tighter she squeezed as she wished strength and fortune to the one looking back at her. Her knuckles felt raw. She got on her knees and chanted her personal hymn.

" I alone can carry this burden.
I alone can carry this burden.
I alone can carry this burden
I alone can carry this burden.
I alone can carry this burden."

A simple knock on the door as a Corsair enters the room,

" My Trade Queen, we have arrived at Mars."

Smiling back to the mirror for confidence she stood up.

Showtime.

 

[SteelWriter77]

(An IC Written by Me, @Princess_Hex and @Another Amoeba )​

The Cold chill of Zamyat was harsh for even the strongest of Astartes, but standing at the edge of an opening in the ice was one who can claim to have not only survived in these icy wastes, but thrived. Primarch of the Wardens of the Blessed Heart, Ahurani.

Her wings slightly waving in the wind as she awaited her dear sister, Varil of the Coldiron Cages. Both had come to Zamyat, Ahurani's homeworld to discover what had happened to the daughters of Varil working with Prosperine of Stormgard.

The ravine at her feet was, compared to most natural formations, unexceptional. Yet to Ahurani it appeared like a deep gash carved straight into the heart of her world. She took a moment to look at her hand, her unblemished skin despite everything she had been through. What she wouldn't give to have the scar be on her instead.

The wind was slow today, slower than usual. The turmoil in Ahurani's heart would have been enough to kick up a storm of its own, but she had changed over the last few years. Her discipline was tested, but held strong, the only manifestation of her powers a faint chilling radiance nearly unnoticeable in the ambient temperature. She knew Varil expected no less.

But the wind still had its bite, and through the perpetual haze of drifting snow it blew up Ahurani began to hear her sister's approach: the whirring of powered armor, the snapping cloak. She wasn't alone of course. She was accompanied by her small entourage, which moved without a word to say to one another. Varil's approach was dreadfully slow, but at last her figure began to cut through the snow. She was fleet-footed and certain in her tread, treating Zamyat's harshness with an almost ethereal lack of notice. The wind had blown down her hood, and her mask was run across with a thin frost. "Sister!" Varil spoke with a thin but excited approval. Ahurani could almost imagine a narrow, professorial smile settling on her lips.

Even in her direst moods, there was nothing that could stop Ahurani from responding to her sister's approval. She half turned to look back, though couldn't muster a smile to match Varil's. "Varil, you've arrived."

Her sister nodded in assent. "Shall we begin?"

"Our daughters have waited long enough, so let's." Without waiting for any more confirmation, Ahurani stepped over the ledge. Her wings snapped open as she disappeared from view, guiding her safely down to the bottom.

As Ahurani slowly descended, Vail leapt down after her sister, landing first and awaiting her winged siter, the two would find themselves in the same place as was described to Ahurani when she had spoken to Prosperine, frozen metal parts and various structures lay encased in the ice.

The two followed the only path that went forward, seeing more and more of the frozen structures and the beginning of the frozen Orks, to many this would be a sight unnerving with the sheer amount of Orks left encased, their fury frozen in an instance of the past. But to the two primarchs they had different thoughts, with Varil able to feel the still lingering power of Orkish psykers deep in the ice, but starved of the same ferocity she has come to associate with such powers.

"This place froze quickly." Varil was vocalizing her thoughts, "Instantaneously. But… for all the power contained here, it is not a pressing threat, and may be dealt with at our pace."

"Zamyat is cold, to be frozen is no strange sight." It was hardly a sufficient answer to the statement, but Ahurani's mind was elsewhere, barely prompting her to respond. "They have been here for centuries, they can remain for centuries more."

Pressing on the two would continue down into the depths, the ice showing more and more frozen structures and Orks, until the bodies of Orks stopped and only the metal remains of humanity's past kept the two company as they walked.

Reaching the area that seemed to resemble the place Prosperine last remembered, the two searched the area with all their skills, Ahurani having lived her life among the ice and knew much about how this world had worked, and Varil with her insight into the Warp itself.

At first all seemed untouched and undisturbed, but Ahurani could tell that the Ice in this area was fresher than others around them. Meanwhile Varil was dealing with an occurance she had not expected to feel, her power being…suppressed, only slightly, like the faint touch of one of her Blank Daughters, but she could not tell where the source was coming from.

It was so obvious that some had happened here. She could see it, she could feel it. Ahurani could feel her emotions bubbling up towards the surface, her hands clenching into tight fists.

"So where are you?" It came from seemingly nowhere, one moment Ahurani was quiet and the next shouting out into the icy chamber. Her voice bounced off the walls, echoing into the tunnels. "You'll savage people who are lost and alone, but you won't even show yourself now?"

Varil only took a moment to meet Ahurani's gaze before turning her attention outward. Her grip tightened on her spear.

At first, nothing seemed to occur, but quickly the Primarchs could see that ice was being evaporated into a new tunnel leading further down into the depths of the planet, perfectly sized for two Primarchs to descend.

"It seems we are wanted," Varil said with an evenness so complete Ahurani knew it to be forced. The subtle pressure against the weight of her soul was as welcome as a Blank could ever be, but she expected with her whole being that before the day's end she would have to punch through that haze in the name of destroying whatever Psyker awaited her here.

Ahurani's hand flexed as if it wished for a spear of its own to hold. In any other circumstance she would be thrilled. Varil was being outrageously thoughtful, going so far outside of her comfort zone while still thinking of Ahurani's well being. Ahurani desperately wanted to be okay, to calm down enough to reach out and hold Varil's hand and tell her how much it meant.

She tried, she really did, but whenever Ahurani turned inwards to calm herself down she was confronted by the torrent of emotion that was the thought of her home, the last place she had left, being threatened. Not even Varil was enough to distract her from that. "How kind of them." Her voice was flat, with a hint of biting sarcasm that was hard to miss. "Let's go."

The two Primarchs began their descent in the perfectly shaped tunnel, seeing the entombed structures eventually shift into larger and more complicated places, in the same shape as the research stations that Ahurani had spent a large portion of her life in, but even that faded as darkness seemed to envelope the tunnel.

It opened up into a dark chamber with a metal floor, their foot falls echoing for what seemed like miles as the dark chamber was far larger than anything this world should ever have. While the two Primarchs looked around, they both could feel something inherently wrong about this place, for Varil the suppression of her power was palpable, she could not even feel the Warp in the slightest in this place. While Ahurani felt the voices that taunted her fade and be silenced, leaving her completely and utterly alone with her thoughts for the first time in a while.

A voice cut through the dead silence of the dark Chamber, one that echoed deeply and carried a sense of dread as it was…unnatural.

"Welcome Primarchs of the Coldiron and Wardens, we were expecting your arrival, have you come to formalize the declaration of Intent or to continue the charade."

Varil, in an odd way, found herself resisting the urge to rise more fully and compose herself in that Athenian way of which she was only truly capable in her father's presence. She felt all of the canniness and none of the pain brought on by the presence of a Blank, a sensation foreign to her except in the presence of her Father. Of course, it took no extra canniness at all to know that she had better keep her mind guarded. "I am no less certain than I was before that our meeting will culminate in violence."

Primarch. For some reason that cursed title cut so much deeper when attached to Ahurani in the heart of her own world. It was like a dagger pressing into her heart, ready to tear it open. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I have come," she said in a voice that danced on the edge of calmness. "To get answers for the disappearances that have happened. I am not familiar with the options you have presented to me."

As Ahurani finished speaking, the darkness of the chamber was chased away by blue dim lights, strange symbols covered the walls and as if appearing before the two Primarchs in an instant, was the frozen forms of the missing Astartes.
"It seems a more…direct course of action is needed, if you have not come to formalize the declaration and act as if you don't know, take your gene spawn and leave this place with the rest of the intruders, our work must not fall behind schedule with the War soon to return." The voice states again, it's echo still an unnatural reverb across the chamber.

"But must we leave at that my Lord, the Primitives clearly do not understand, we gleaned that much from the minds of these ones, why even bother with such formality?" A different and lighter voice echoes across the chamber.

"Please you two, no arguments will make this any better, explanations will take too long and our work is already behind, and simply wiping them out can't be done this time, far too much attention in this space to do so again." A third and more close voice speaks, however the two still cannot see what or who is speaking.

"I will not suffer being called an invader by faceless voices in the heart of my own home." Ahurani wasted no time getting to the point. "You will explain to me what the declaration of intent is. Then you will explain what your work is, and whether it poses a threat to those living on the surface. If it does not, then we will leave you to your 'work'."

"Hmm very well, the least one such as I can do to one of the Primitive being is to speak in person, Anrateph release the optical cloaks, let them gaze upon their betters." Spoke the first voice.

"As you wish My Phaeron" spoke the now named Anrateph. A shimmer covered three spaces that the eyes of the Primarchs had avoided, three forms now showed themselves, silver bodies of a skeletal nature with glowing blue lights highlighting their inhuman appearance. One stood next to the frozen Astartes, watching the Primarchs with an unmoving stillness, their blank face giving an appearance of disinterest, while their single eye seemed to be watching every move, a strange staff that crackled with blue energy was held in their hands.

A second was watching from on top of the walls, watching as if they were a spider, multiple limbs twitching and seeming to be waiting for the Primarchs to move, unlike the other they had seen, this one seemed impatient and waited for violence to occur.

But the third was what drew their attention the most, sitting atop a floating throne was a massive figure that seemed to spark with power, not of the warp, but of something else, held in their hands were two objects, a blade and simple orb, the image betrayed a nobility that both Primarchs could feel a familiar semblance of authority.

"There, now let me explain to you primitives." the one sitting on the throne spoke. "This is not your home, we have slept in these halls for millions of years, only awaking to deal with degraded Krork infestations and to check the progress of our projects, your kind came here to study our technology, we did as we always had, froze the surface and killed as many as we could to scare them off, but they kept coming." A deep metallic sigh emanate from this being that had no lungs "Eventually it has gotten to the point that doing it anymore would risk damage to our already limited systems, so we have brought you here to see if your race can lay claim to this world, declare your intent as an Invader and let the War begin in earnest, or leave and let our work continue for the next few millennia until the true War can continue and our race achieves victory." his unchanging face seems to stare down at the Primarchs, carrying a deep chill.

"Home is where you are raised, where you belong." The fight in Ahurani evaporated. She was still practically thrumming with energy and emotion, but the urge to pounce, to attack a threat, was gone. "That means this is your home, too. I lived here for decades, I know the snowfalls and listen to the winds. I can feel the song of this world touch my heart even when I am light years away. I would never inflict harm on someone who calls this world home."

"I refuse to declare the intent to wage war." Ahurani lifted her head and looked the phaeron directly in the eyes. "To be quite honest, I have no interest in your technology, you may keep it. The people living on the surface today do so only in the interest of finding strength and happiness in each other, they have formed an identity for themselves that does not require you. In fact, until you engineered the circumstances to bring us here, your kind had been completely forgotten. No record of you exists on the surface."

The chill of the phaeron's gaze did nothing to a woman who danced in the blizzards of Zamyat. Ahurani had felt fear before, this machine was nothing. "You have my apology for the damages and trial inflicted by earlier settlers. To my... kind, I suppose, I am considered the custodian of this world. I can promise you that I will not allow others to come here and disrupt your work, so long as the people on the surface are left in peace. I would even be willing to assist in your work, should there be something I can do. I hope that is amenable to you."

A metallic growling came from the spider like being on the walls "You dare try to bargain primitive, you are being given a chance many would thank their pitiful gods for even having it be considered, you should be thankful for being given a yes or no choice on whether or not to exist." It crawled down from the walls reach the floor, it became quite clear that whatever these beings were, this one was made for combat, it's multiple arms twitched and carried sharpened blades along the arms themselves.

"Calm yourself Thulehk, it seems the fall of their pathetic species has made them unaware of where they stand, both in the physical sense and in the cosmic order of things." the Phaeron's hovering throne descended to the ground, allowing the being to step onto the ground, the blue light in it's eyes betrayed a malice that would see this world die if it had the chance. "Tell me then Custodian, do your people understand how to forge stars into weapons, do they know how to bend time itself to their whims or to shackle gods as weapons. We know you do not." It gestured to the Astartes frozen "These are supposedly some of your greatest warriors,and yet they are nothing to the enemy my kind fights as equals…you misunderstand our own words, we only give this offer to you, for simply wiping the infestation out would divert unnecessary power from needed systems, the damages of time are far more pressing than anything you pathetic planet spawn have ever done to our work. That you do not even know the truth of this place speaks to how undeserving your species is to even stand upon our worlds." While its metallic voice carried little emotion, she could tell this creature believed every word it was saying.

It turned its gaze to Varil "What of you then Primarch, do you stand by the words of this other and refuse to choose, or will you end this charade of diplomacy with you lesser beings and allow us to continue preparations for the true War?"Varil could feel the gaze of not only the Phaeron but it's two allies as well. Their eyes looked at and through her, almost as if they were looking at the core of her being.

"This world is no longer yours," Varil spoke with a stern Imperial force in spite of what she intended to say next, "by… squatters' rights. You clearly have not enforced your claim to the surface for thousands of years. My sister seems entirely willing to grant that your claim to the subterranean realms has never lapsed, but if you would claim ownership of the whole world, that must be adjudicated."

This seemed to surprise the Phaeron who turned to the staff wielding being "Tell me Anrateph, how do the Kings laws cover this…uncertainty." Anrateph walked forward, standing just feet away from the Primarchs, looking them over, their single eye glowing a faint blue.

"Hmm it is…less than favorable, but we cannot afford to spark a new conflict in our state, this world would be ours, but the rest of these Humans across the nearby space would fall on us like a tide, our warriors still need time to rest and prepare, including our main defenses." One of Anrateph's hands reached out and touched the armor of Varil, running a metal finger across it for a moment. "My current advisement would be to…accept this…hmmm" their eye looks at Ahurani then turns to face their lord "Custodian of the outer layer, keeping the outside from interfering and allowing for preparations to continue, Organic servants are a…new phase of the courts, but one that can be allowed in these uncertain times." it's tone was clinical and judgemental as if it was clearly looking down at them.

The spider like being seems agitated, but keeps to the sides, while the Phaeron begins to chuckle "Hehe well then, it seems that this is a far more fortuitous day then i had imagined, the way your warriors thought, I had considered your kind to have regressed even further into barbarity, but i can be assured that at least the Coldiron Primarch can use her words well in a courtly setting."

The xeno creature extends its scepter to the two Primarchs "I suppose a proper introduction is needed, I am Phaeron R'zhek the Frozen Viscount, Phaeron of the Nesho-tek Dynasty. A pleasure Lady Primarch of the Coldirons and her servant of the Wardens."

Ahurani knelt and pressed her lips gently to the outstretched scepter. She thought for a moment how many of her siblings would be disgusted at the mere thought of doing this, and was glad it was Varil who was with her. As she withdrew from the scepter she bowed her head, playing the part of the lesser that she knew so well. "It is an honour, Lord Phaeron. I beg your forgiveness for my earlier misstep."
"Hmm you are forgiven, let it be known that I have mercy for my latest subjects" R'zhek said dismissively. He turns and walks back to his Throne, sitting upon it . "It shall be a new day for the Nesho-tek, new subjects and now our work will be uninterrupted, hehe The World Engine will be repaired more efficiently now…of course there is…another issue, your golden interlopers here. None outside of this world should know of us you understand." He spoke plainly and frankly to the Primarchs.

"I don't believe I need to explain what that means. Of course, it would be beneath me to have servants who do not understand their orders."

"The all of us are dignitaries, empowered to entreat with nonhuman powers as we see fit." Vail spoke testily. "Us above, you below does seem to be the driving philosophy, and I would love to haul together a more formal agreement. I can certainly swear to secrecy until details are concluded, and surely I am willing to insert a clause of secrecy within that text as well."

A deep sigh comes from R'zhek "A pity, you both seemed…adequate subjects, at least we understand your people's methods now. Anrateph send them away, give them their corpses and warriors as well, we have no need for sloppy augmented warriors to study."

A slam of Anrateph's staff was all they could see, before all was white, the two Primarchs found themselves at the mouth of the pit once again, the bodies of the Custodes were behind them, their flesh frozen down to the bone, while the missing Astartes still breathed, their health clearly hindered, but alive.

Ahurani hadn't acted, she'd been frozen by indecision just as surely as the astartes had been frozen by the cold. Now, seeing a chance for a lasting peace disappear in a flash, she felt all of the strength leave her body. The primarch sank to her knees, and hugged Delphi close.

 

[Princess_Hex]

As prison cells went Prosperine had no complaints for this one, it was tall enough to stand in, even walk back and forth a few paces and was furnished with the necessary ablutions including a mirrored surface, totally adequate for her immediate needs.

She had been thoughtfully frowning into said mirror over her shoulder for some time now, no closer perhaps to the truth than before but certain the time was not wasted, she had a couple of new avenues of investigation at least, also at risk of vanity she thought the mark rather fetching. The air growing colder caused her to turn away from her work and don her clothes before sitting on the bed.

As expected, the door slid open and a cold wind blew into the room. Ahurani entered, her face cold and stony, more upset than Prosperine had ever seen her. A Coldiron astartes filed in after her. Philia seemed to be there less as extra muscle, Ahurani hardly needed help in that department, and more to keep an eye on the primarch.

"Aunty!" She greeted warmly, "so good of you to stop by!"

The warmth was not returned, it ran into Ahurani and just fizzled out. There would be no friendly greeting in return. "Yes, it seems you felt comfortable making yourself quite at home in my most treasured of places. I am deeply disappointed in you, Prosperine."

"I admit the expedition could have gone better, but there was more than enough achieved and revealed to justify further exploration and investigation, indeed I was surprised to be confined here like some sort of criminal immediately after my ordeal, I'd come to expect better hospitality." She shrugged, "but it's not worth getting upset about."

"No, Prosperine, I don't think you understand." Ahurani stepped forward, her wings shuffling on her back in frustration. "I gave you permission for a short, limited visit to my planet in order to observe the research stations. You outstayed your welcome and now you speak to me of going far beyond what I permitted you to do. There is plenty for me to be upset about."

Now she loomed, it didn't seem to be a purposeful attempt to intimidate, just movement driven by anger. "So let me be clear. There will be no further exploration or investigation. In fact, there is nothing to explore or investigate, because you found nothing on Zamyat besides the few bases in which the people lived."

Prosperine looked up at her with disappointment and a bit of anger but ultimately nodded. "I suppose I should have expected as much. Though you may as well be honest about your reasoning aunty, you're not angry I explored some caves I discovered whilst visiting the people you left to starve and freeze to death, you're just furious someone tried to help your people actually alter their impending doom rather than laying down to die in perfect white snow."

The reply made Ahurani's face twist into a sneer, actual contempt writ large on her features. "Do not speak to me of leaving people to die when you ran from your homeworld after inviting an entire regiment of murderers to slaughter your own people. I do not care for your opinion on my management of Zamyat, I do not care for your opinions on anything. Besides, you never had any intention of helping, you only wanted to enrich yourself."

"The Supreme Defence Council of Stormguard has requested I bring you home. So that is what I will do after making sure Zamyat is secure. You are never to speak of what you saw in those caverns to anyone, never to write them down, and to turn over all evidence of them to me or my agents immediately. This is not a discussion. Do you understand?"

Proserpine nodded, "I understand, now how soon can we return to Stormgard? I've got a lot of work to do."

"I told you, after I have investigated Zamyat to my satisfaction. You may take the time to hand over all records for inspection. You will not be allowed out of this cell until we leave." Ahurani sagged, the impetus of her anger gone. The cold wind slowed to a stop. "I hope, Prosperine, that you manage to prove that you are not the woman you have made yourself look with your recent actions. That the blood running in the streets of Brama, the blood my daughters worked day and night to stem the flow of, was just a tragic mistake and not a reflection of who you are."

"And I hope that one day you realize that mistakes and blood are the building blocks of progress, no success is birthed without failure. I have miscalculated, I have made mistakes, but where you see tragedy, I see opportunity" She contradicted fiercely. "You resent me from discovering a link to your ancient past beneath the very feet of your people, you are for some reason terrified of the Imperium finding out or is it your own people you are scared of, once they realize how much they lost, how this slow pained decline you condemn to to is totally avoidable were they to learn from history and make a new future." She sounded angry now, rather than amused, pausing to gather herself.

After a moment she looked back at Ahurani, eyes dark and angry. "Frankly Aunty, I do not care what your opinion of me as a person or otherwise is, but it does make me angry that your opinions of the galaxy are going to condemn your people for no reason beyond your own childish comfort. I've done things that disgust you, truth be told I have even on rare occasions managed to disgust myself, but I have never in my life ran or hid from anything be it an enemy, the consequences of my actions or simple plain truths. I'll wait in this cell until you're done, but all it will achieve is waste time. Whilst you try and bury the opportunity handed to you because you are fucking terrifed of your own ability to make things better because that demands you accepting responsibility. The choices I make will end well or badly, I'll stand by them to anyone be they you, the Council, Malcador or the Emperor himself."

Ahurani sighed, the angry admonishments having no effect at all. "Your feigned compassion for Zamyat is tiresome. All you are is a stupid little girl who rails against what you do not understand. You look up and think the problems of others seem-"

"Your people are freezing to death as their homes decay around them whilst you command a galaxy's resources, you could save-"

Ahurani's fist slammed into the wall behind Prosperine, leaving a deep dent. "I command nothing!" Her voice roared from her as if it had been trapped inside for far too long. The wind that was gone returned in a howling blast that cut through to the bone. "Whatever you may think, whatever you may see, I command nothing. I am nothing to this Imperium. I feel this world's pain more clearly than your twisted heart ever could, but I know exactly how every single effort to save them would go. You think I am some kind of commander, some kind of free actor? I am a chained animal to be used on command and nothing more, to be disposed of when convenient. Do not dare speak to me of what I can do, I tire of lectures from those who understand nothing."

"You and I are more alike than either of us can stomach." Prosperine said after a long time, she had not so much as blinked during the outburst but her now wind-chafed features seemed uncertain for the first time. "Did you ever consider asking your people what they wanted? Whether they wished to take the chance, to influence your choice on their path?" She smiled ruefully, "I did not, I was worried what they might say if given a choice. I wonder if the Emperor was worried."

"Don't pretend you know anything about me. We are nothing alike." Ahurani withdrew her fist, a flicker of genuine alarm on her face as she realised that she had lashed out physically. "I know these people. I spent decades among them, going between stations and learning who they were. I know every story, every dance, even the ones that others have forgotten and only the elders knew before they passed. I was there for the births of their children, I held their babies and told them they would be safe and warm in the hands of their families. I blessed their marriages and wept at their funerals."

"I am a woman who was born of those winds and kept safe by the snow. I know what they want. If I could give it to them, I would. There is no 'opportunity' here in their deaths, much as you-." Ahurani stopped to collect herself. "Forget it. I apologise for yelling at you, and will take my leave."

Prosperine shook her head almost sadly. "Do not apologize Ahurani, I never do. Its just another chain you've built for yourself and you have enough of those already."

Ahurani turned away, wings folding back behind her in a feigned show of calm. She was quite good at them, only Philia could tell something was off. "That only goes to show even further that we are nothing alike. Goodbye Prosperine." She swept out the door, Philia following after her silently.