War Scribes-Father and Son

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This is a story taken from the main page of the War Scribes, part of The /tg/ Heresy project.

Father and Son

Finally the Emperor himself intervened, following Arelex into the silent depths of his home. It seemed the Primarch could be in his Marines' presence no longer. Marching deep into the ancient metal caverns, the two settled into a clearing in this metal jungle. Calmly they shared a simple meal of cheese, bread, and meat, with water to drink. An unthinkable treasure here, even a few weeks prior. The son broke the quiet first.

"I do not know them, father. I listen to their songs, but I cannot understand them. War. Weapons. Armies of men marching together. What is this to me? I see no reason to fight for people you do not know. My world is small, and I have seen too much death already. I am not sure I wish to learn your songs, to learn more of blood and carnage. You do not need me."

The Emperor spoke,"Follow me, then." Finishing their meal, father and son pressed even further into the Hulk. Eventually they came to a titanic set of adamantium doors, the docking bay for some ancient voidship embedded in the Space Hulk. Rammed into the side of Arelex's home possibly thousands of years ago. The two men spoke no words, for the ancient cavern's stillness seemed to defy being shattered by human voices. The Emperor looked at the door mournfully, then closed his eyes. The portals were opened, and the final lock turned smoothly into place. Food, drink, shelter, the elements, the needs of the Crusade, the future of Humanity, all temporarily forgotten in the concentration of the moment.

Ancient Man's mysteries did not come forth so easily.

Inside a rush of stale air carried with it the scent of death. Corpses, hundreds of corpses, scattered the floor. They had not been dead for long. Arelex recoiled in horror at the sight, for it could mean only one thing. Here were more victims of his ill-starred Warp journey, slain by his hand as surely as if Arelex had slit their throats in person. Their songs were gone, lost to this eerily silent part of the Hulk. He could never have known they were here. But that did not make them any less dead.

"My child, war and bloodshed will come to you whether you wish it or not. These people hid in their caves of steel, guarding the broken relics of their ancestors, never knowing of a world beyond these doors. But they died all the same, thinking themselves safe. You did everything you could to defend your family, but by doing so this family you slew. The uncaring void would have us all lay down and die, unmourned and unloved. The warriors of Legio Secundus are of your blood. How could you do any less for them, your true children? And like this ill-fated tribe locked behind the impermeable walls, there are so many Human worlds out there among the stars. Trapped behind veils of ignorance, suffering, and fear."

Arelex was beside himself with fury, moving through the dead bodies like an automaton without guidance. The Emperor followed behind him a few paces back, as if waiting for something. Stumbling forward he came to a colossal shrine, the last bastion of this hidden tribe. Hundreds of people sprawled before it, as if pleading to the metal idol atop it for deliverance. Arelex howled in rage at the senselessness of it all, for the markings above the idol clearly read "Please Disengage Docking Clamps for Airlock Ejection". No words of divine wisdom were these that glowed in the darkness.

As the two watched, the breeze flowing in from the colossal doors stirred the stagnant air. For a brief moment, the Hulk's systems sputtered to life and the gigantic suit opened of its own accord, sensing their presence through means unknowable. It had never opened for those that worshiped it. But it opened for them. And the servos strained and groaned. The ancient metal began to crumble into dust. Its knees bent, ankles snapped, proud shoulders sagged under the weight of eons. Then it was gone, little more than a pile of rubble in the drifting wind.

Arelex's voice was hoarse, almost strangled. "Damn you. Did you know this would be here? Did you know I killed these people this whole time, did you know my world even better than I myself? This planet we orbit even now, did you know I would eventually come here? Were those people murdered by my own hand, just to teach your wayward child something of the world? Did, did you place them here somehow, Father, just so they would die?" Suddenly, spurred by some unknown energy, the Primarch leaped atop the altar, kicking and striking at the armor's remains. Corroded metal scattered everywhere, unable to resist his rage. "Why could you not protect them? I did not wish these people harm! They worshiped you, you worthless hunk of metal! They trusted you! It wasn't my job! They were your responsibility!"

The Emperor's massive hand upon Arelex's shoulder stifled his tirade to standstill.

"Arelex. It is this that I would teach Humanity. It is this that I would have you teach Humanity. I tell you truly, I knew nothing of these people. I knew nothing of their beliefs, or their gods. But I know that there are billions more just like them. All equally helpless. And I am deeply grieved at their deaths. There are many things that I know, and much that I am capable of doing. But I am no god. These people placed their faith in something that could not save them, rather than trusting themselves to shoulder their own burdens."

"And if Humanity is to reclaim the Galaxy's vastness, all Mankind will have to stand on their own. United in purpose, rather than praying for intervention. You and your tribe are a perfect example. Though you are much more than the average man, nevertheless you are human. And you took a group of the lost and terrified and made them greater by far, daring what few would dream. You trusted neither in ancient idols nor myself, only in your skills and those around you. The tribe trusted you as a leader, certainly, but without their own inner strength none of you could have made it so far. Let your Legion be the many-handed one who serves at your will. Mold them into what Humanity may become. So that all will see them as the example to be emulated. They are but clay still, uncertain and unguided. They need their own Father to teach them now."

"There is great passion within you, my son. So different from disciplined Hektor, and yet very alike. You truly love your family. I ask that you extend that love to all. Fight for each and every human as fervently as you do your adopted tribe, and you will someday see the day that no more die in vain."

Arelex took several deep breaths, regathering himself in the twilight stillness. "I will need a moment, then." The Primarch pressed his hand upon the destroyed armor's activation panel, and with a mighty rush of air corpses and shattered metal alike flowed into the void to be buried in deep space. In a few hours or days, Whitestone would see a briefly beautiful artificial meteor shower. Fitting memorial to ephemeral lives. Closing his eyes, Arelex followed them into the vacuum as he had often done before. His enhanced genetics allowed him to survive in space for quite some time before needing to return, and this served him well in a home whose atmosphere was never guaranteed.

The bay doors ground slowly shut. The air returned to stillness and calm. The Emperor looked about the silent tomb one last time, and returned to his ship.