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A Note On ‘Braiva’s Best’

2016-03-12T02:16:45Z

2601:2C5:8100:CF97:F540:BFA4:91A7:F151: Created page with "This force was famous across the Vulkan Imperium during M56, the period upon which the largest military mobilisation in Vulkan Imperial history was undertaken in its latter ye..."

This force was famous across the Vulkan Imperium during M56, the period upon which the largest military mobilisation in Vulkan Imperial history was undertaken in its latter years. This is particularly important when we consider that this fleet was famous across the Imperium, even during the homecoming years, when actual demi-god Primarchs were being returned to the Imperium from across the galaxy and major Commandery missions were undertaken against Krork, Chaos and Necron forces on a huge scale following the end of the age of Contraction.

Officially, the force was first known as the 456th Armageddon/Varseen Expeditionary Force, under the direction of Admiral Vartoon of the Steel Legions. This was a fleet was cut off from resupply due to the century of contraction, but valiantly continued as a military force, despite being decimated by Necron and Krork forces and losing most of its commanders. This force would have vanished into obscurity if it wasn’t for the fact Temestor Braiva, Legendary commander of the Federation of Justice Troopers, stranded far from Armageddon, took the burden of command upon himself, and utterly renovated and reformed the force.

Braiva knew the fleet could not be resupplied in a standard manner. So, the fleet took at tithe of soldiers, materials and ships from the planets they liberated or saved as they made short warp jumps between embattled systems. Though they lacked much of the more sophisticated materiel larger, Astartes-led missions possessed, Temestor innovated; using non-standard tactics, daring manoeuvres and creating war machines out of whatever he could find. His fleet defeated the Krork War-Hulk ‘The Elder King’s Retort’, by luring it into close proximity to a star, before unleashing gravity mines that caused a coronal mass ejection within the star. His cunning Promethean tech savants used starship parts to scratch-build grav tanks for the siege of Morellen’s escape, which was otherwise impenetrable by orbit or via ground-based assault. The fleet penetrated the defences of the Dogorel Traitor Clan worlds by deactivating their engines and disguising their approach inside the icy tail of a comet. History books fail to mention that often, Braiva won through avoiding fighting the most powerful enemies, such as the Dragon Tide, attacking only their weakest elements.

Nevertheless, many are the legendary victories achieved by this force. They were considered one of the best armies in the Imperium, and soon became known as ‘Braiva’s Best’. Temestor Braiva himself became the poster-boy for the war effort; a symbol of mortal fortitude and cunning in a galaxy of superhuman heroes and monsters.

Braiva’s force expanded every year, as their losses were replaced and soon surpassed by men and materiel they picked up along the way. The core of his ground forces consisted of;
-Braiva’s own Justice Troopers, who formed the vanguard of most attacks.
-Plasma Commandoes picked up from various worlds where they had been stranded following abandoned campaigns centuries earlier.
-The Tempered Edge veterans. These were the battle-hardened, battle-scarred veteran Steel Legionnaires of the original expedition. Their numbers were ever-dwindling due to war losses and injury. Bionics were strictly limited within the fleet, thus many of the Tempered Edge continued to fight with hands replaced by hooks or blades, or with their damaged eyes simply replaced by glass or steel replacements. The Tempered Edge were always doped with pain numbing narcotics in order to continue the fight. Famously it was said you could chop bits off them and they’d still run you through with their bayonets.
-Serf Soldiers of Krieg. Several merchant worlds paid their tithes to Braiva’s Best by simply buying them a battalion of Serf Soldiers from Krieg. These grim figures were unsociable but undoubtedly effective.
-Valhallan Remnants.

However, these forces were supplemented by a diverse range of exotic troopers from minor worlds and domains aligned to Vulkan’s cause, such as a Chapter of Chevantai Knight-Princes with their powered armour and legendary sword-skills, psyker Guardsmen of Gamma-Meson, Rough Riders of Attila and many more. In addition, mercenaries joined Braiva’s Best, for albeit less noble intentions. The most bizarre and striking of these were the savage Lychen Vashiri*; these men and women were essentially ‘murder-tourists’, travelling from their home empire of Lychen purely to sample the various interesting things the galaxy had for them to kill. They didn’t fight for money or materials; only flesh and glory.

The fleet itself was a ragtag assortment of powerful Vulkanite capital ships, Ryzan forge ships and countless vessels of differing designs from across the galaxy. Some were converted merchant vessels and cruise liners, others were alien vessels stolen and repurposed by opportunistic crews. Some had been designed by their home worlds themselves, ignoring the defunct decrees of the long-extinct Mechanicum. Braiva’s flagship, Tyme’s Absolution, had once been a Hades class Battle Barge, but centuries of refits, embellishments and additions created a truly unique vessel of vast scale and formidable firepower, with deck upon deck of bomber wings and fight craft, as well as a fully functioning forge section installed by devious Promethean Cultists.

Braiva himself was almost as much of a relic as the rest of his fleet. He was ancient for a mortal, his hundreds of years of life maintained by the bare minimum of bionic and rejuve techniques; only his face maintained a facade of youthfulness, in order to match his poster boy image. He no longer fought from the front however and was instead a master of tactics and logistics, orchestrating campaigns from his private chambers onboard Tyme’s Absolution.

Braiva’s Best’s fame was cemented through taking part in the Cyclopean War, launched against Ahriman’s dominion. No Astartes could fight in this war against the sorcerer; only the cunning of the unseen and the courage of mortal men stood against the deathless Legions of the Rubric.

*(This roughly translates as ‘Kin of the Onslaught’. Vashan, the root form of the Lychen word ‘Onslaught’ is a mysterious grammatical construction which didn’t exist in Lychen language until sometime in M42.)

Excerpt of Transcript: Log of Captain Trechous of The Magella, Flagship of The Pentus Grand Relief Fleet

2016-03-12T02:08:06Z

2601:2C5:8100:CF97:F540:BFA4:91A7:F151:

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'''[Day 50]''': [section missing] but there is news from Armageddon, in the form of the man from Hades. He calls himself Iacob; some menial no doubt, but he and his entourage seem well-meaning enough. They have a mandate from the five Primarchs themselves it seems, though I suspect only Vulkan truly cares for the plight of the refugees and those who suffer in these wars. His brothers are warriors and heroic as no mortal may be, but they are not humanitarians. If the death of eighty five percent of humanity was needed for them to achieve victory, I am sure they would pay that price gladly. What is man but a statistic to the gods of battle anyway?
[Section missing] along with all necessary provisions. This fleet is perhaps the largest I have ever commanded, and what is more amazing is that it is, technically, on a mission of peace. Of mercy.
[Section Missing]

'''[Day 1,899]''': [Section Missing] which is beyond all reasonable expectations. We are not a gyptic caravan for Pentus’ sake! I am not sure this was the mission agreed upon by our masters back in civilized space. This Iacob is earnest, I’ll give him that, but he doesn’t understand that we cannot keep accepting these refugee fleets into our own. Our force is vast now; several million ships. I have been forced to forbid any deep warp translations, in case our fleet gets separated. At this rate, we shall be slowed to a crawl, and become a sitting target for the terrors of the galaxy. I would ask for guidance from the Primarch, but no communications are forthcoming. No one is answering, and all I get from the seers onboard is weeping and ranting! Ultramar’s gone quiet; I hear of a daemon king marshaling for some great war there. The North is on fire; a hundred thousand worlds consumed by infighting and Pentus-knows what else. The southern rim is just as bad; I dare not search out Braiva’s Best, lest I get this fleet embroiled or recruited in some damn-fool expedition against the Sorcerer-King. I cannot allo[Section Missing]

'''[Day 17,273]''': I must open this report with an update on the refugee situation. Fifty thousand Covegan skiffs, nineteen thousand Tau seeder ships, primed for terraforming, countless colony hives of Q‘orl and Norkla wasp-men, five Kroot spheres, exodite solar sailers numbering in the millions. Broken merchant vessels from human empires across the galaxy have come too. Their innards are gutted of cargo space, and their holds are filled to the rafters with billions of humans, filthy and scared out of their minds. Most must be scarred, if not physically then surely emotionally.
We are out of supplies. We are relying upon what passing worlds can offer us when we stop in their systems. We are become beggars! Vulkan’s grand relief fleet; beggars! I’d have us return to Armageddon, if it weren’t for this menial clerk, this damned official. Iacob is a glorified medicae of average ability, and yet the refugees love him, as he tries his best to organize medical teams to tend to all the countless sick and the wounded. He’s got no supplies, but is running on sheer willpower and luck more than anything.
As for naval manoeuvres today, I instructed under-helmsmen Griegor and Clavin to correct our course to[Section Missing]

'''[Day 39,283]''': Rendezvous with the ‘Micarno’. The ship was part of a picket fleet entering the basin; the great wilderness that forms the underside of the galaxy. Deep below the habitable worlds, are worlds scoured to the bedrock tens of thousands of years ago, and left abandoned and cold around their orphaned stars. Their Captain, Trenkin, tells me his fleet detected something. A dead spot, at the heart of the basin. It is a black mass, where no warp traffic travels. If we enter this region, warp travel will be painfully slow. But we must investigate; we have been sent by[Section Missing] a great sphere at the heart. It blinds all who[Section Missing]like a god’s skin almost...
[Section Missing.]

'''[Day 200,345]''': [Section Missing] Damn these dregs! Ruins of society! They struck fromt he warp like thieves in the night! There must have been men on the inside; perhaps some of the cruder refugee ships tipped these pillagers off? If I do not complete tomorrow’s report, know that I abominate all pirates, and when judgement comes in the next life, may their souls be rent asunder, and their[Section Missing]

'''[Day 200,346]''': Thousands are dead, and we are dead in the water, as it were. If the flagship does not cruise, then the fleet must stop; we haven’t enough warp beacons left. If we stop in this system, this fleet will starve.
It is small comfort that we captured their Pirate bitch and her sloop. I shall reap a just reward on this ‘Lady’ Cassion’s flesh.
[Section Missing]

'''[Day 200,347]''': There are no words. Iacob... let her go. He had kept her alive all through our interrogations. He fought and bled to keep her alive. In return, all he asked of her was “Why? Why did you do this to us? We were willing to give you supplies, and to provide you with whatever you needed on the way. There was no need for conflict; there needn’t have been a battle this day.”
The vile pirate Queen looked at him, glaring. Her expression... I couldn’t read it. It was hateful, but not towards him. She held his gaze for what seemed like forever before she replied.
“It is the nature of things. I am sorry for your losses, but it is ever the way of the galaxy. In this grim darkness, there is only war.”
“No! No that is not good enough!”
This was the first time I had seen this small, unimposing man get angry, or even so much as raise his voice. This time he was loud and clarion clear. “For too long we have heard this. ‘I must be monstrous, for that is the tradition’, or ‘We must destroy you, lest our enemies see this as weakness, and strike us down’. We are not machines, built to slay! I will not be a tool of murder and destruction. Look upon this fleet; we should all have been enemies, and yet, though we are afraid, we have not made this relief fleet into an armada. We could have used this fleet to conquer all who stood in our way; this fleet is larger than the greatest Krork navy. There is too much death now. How many die every single day, for no purpose whatsoever? On the whims of people who do not deserve their loyalty? The more we fight and suffer and die on behalf of brutes, the more that black parasite of chaos feeds; suckling on our misery. We will find salvation, and we will do it through peace.”
“This is insanity. Your cowardice will kill you all,” the pirate hissed, in a curious mix of dismay and perhaps awe.
“I am not speaking of cowardice. What we are doing is what goodness is, and what is just. To let a foe strike you, so that that foe may realise their errors, is the bravest thing one can do. It is braver than a war, where one side desperately tries to kill the other, before their foe destroys them in turn.”
“You consider your pompous self sacrifice to be good? Then you, medicae Iacob, are the Last Good Man in this galaxy” scoffed the pirate woman.
Iacob responded by letting her go, and forbidding his men from impeding her, as she fled to her sloop and escaped our clutches. Our weapon stores are depleted (''because we stripped out our guns to fit in more space for our building cargo of living refugees''). I could not destroy her before she went to the warp. Truly, we are doomed.
[Section Missing]

'''[Day 200,499]''': All correspondence with Armageddon is lost. The Primarchs had rode out to meet the Imperium of Travesties in open war, fleet against fleet and Primarch against Primarch.
We are alone. My ship is still damaged, and our situation is bleak. I only hope tha[Section Missing]

'''[Day 200, 500]''': The pirates returned. I recognised their vast, dagger-shaped prows anywhere. I readied my empty guns, and marshalled by nearly non-existent soldiers for the coming massacre. But as I spoke to my absent gods, something unexpected happened. The pirates moved into formation with us. My Promethean Cultists say the engines they have supplied us with will help the fleet leave the system, and head towards the Dysonne Sphere at long last.
Once again, words fail to express my astonishment. I head into an uncertain future, and I am filled not only with dread, but, dare I say it, hope? A treasonous hope which whispers to me ‘perhaps he is right? Perhaps there is hope for us yet, even as the universe consumes itself? Just perhaps...’
[Section Missing- Significant amount of data corrupted. Salvaging closest remnants...]

'''[Day 378,893]''': Gods alive no![Garbled]... he’s walking on it! No! No! NO! NO! [unintelligible]d’s skin; it lives! Oh ch-[garbled] ther-[unintelligible]- opening up! All stations, prepare for evasive-

'''[Transcript Ends]'''

Excerpt of Transcript: Log of Captain Trechous of The Magella, Flagship of The Pentus Grand Relief Fleet

2016-03-12T02:07:41Z

2601:2C5:8100:CF97:F540:BFA4:91A7:F151: Created page with "'''>>>>Downloading... >>>>>>''' Download complete. Display? Y/N Y Displaying... '''[Day 50]''': [section missing] but there is news from Armageddon, in the form of the man fr..."

'''>>>>Downloading... >>>>>>'''
Download complete.
Display? Y/N
Y
Displaying...

'''[Day 50]''': [section missing] but there is news from Armageddon, in the form of the man from Hades. He calls himself Iacob; some menial no doubt, but he and his entourage seem well-meaning enough. They have a mandate from the five Primarchs themselves it seems, though I suspect only Vulkan truly cares for the plight of the refugees and those who suffer in these wars. His brothers are warriors and heroic as no mortal may be, but they are not humanitarians. If the death of eighty five percent of humanity was needed for them to achieve victory, I am sure they would pay that price gladly. What is man but a statistic to the gods of battle anyway?
[Section missing] along with all necessary provisions. This fleet is perhaps the largest I have ever commanded, and what is more amazing is that it is, technically, on a mission of peace. Of mercy.
[Section Missing]

'''[Day 1,899]''': [Section Missing] which is beyond all reasonable expectations. We are not a gyptic caravan for Pentus’ sake! I am not sure this was the mission agreed upon by our masters back in civilized space. This Iacob is earnest, I’ll give him that, but he doesn’t understand that we cannot keep accepting these refugee fleets into our own. Our force is vast now; several million ships. I have been forced to forbid any deep warp translations, in case our fleet gets separated. At this rate, we shall be slowed to a crawl, and become a sitting target for the terrors of the galaxy. I would ask for guidance from the Primarch, but no communications are forthcoming. No one is answering, and all I get from the seers onboard is weeping and ranting! Ultramar’s gone quiet; I hear of a daemon king marshaling for some great war there. The North is on fire; a hundred thousand worlds consumed by infighting and Pentus-knows what else. The southern rim is just as bad; I dare not search out Braiva’s Best, lest I get this fleet embroiled or recruited in some damn-fool expedition against the Sorcerer-King. I cannot allo[Section Missing]

'''[Day 17,273]''': I must open this report with an update on the refugee situation. Fifty thousand Covegan skiffs, nineteen thousand Tau seeder ships, primed for terraforming, countless colony hives of Q‘orl and Norkla wasp-men, five Kroot spheres, exodite solar sailers numbering in the millions. Broken merchant vessels from human empires across the galaxy have come too. Their innards are gutted of cargo space, and their holds are filled to the rafters with billions of humans, filthy and scared out of their minds. Most must be scarred, if not physically then surely emotionally.
We are out of supplies. We are relying upon what passing worlds can offer us when we stop in their systems. We are become beggars! Vulkan’s grand relief fleet; beggars! I’d have us return to Armageddon, if it weren’t for this menial clerk, this damned official. Iacob is a glorified medicae of average ability, and yet the refugees love him, as he tries his best to organize medical teams to tend to all the countless sick and the wounded. He’s got no supplies, but is running on sheer willpower and luck more than anything.
As for naval manoeuvres today, I instructed under-helmsmen Griegor and Clavin to correct our course to[Section Missing]

'''[Day 39,283]''': Rendezvous with the ‘Micarno’. The ship was part of a picket fleet entering the basin; the great wilderness that forms the underside of the galaxy. Deep below the habitable worlds, are worlds scoured to the bedrock tens of thousands of years ago, and left abandoned and cold around their orphaned stars. Their Captain, Trenkin, tells me his fleet detected something. A dead spot, at the heart of the basin. It is a black mass, where no warp traffic travels. If we enter this region, warp travel will be painfully slow. But we must investigate; we have been sent by[Section Missing] a great sphere at the heart. It blinds all who[Section Missing]like a god’s skin almost...
[Section Missing.]

'''[Day 200,345]''': [Section Missing] Damn these dregs! Ruins of society! They struck fromt he warp like thieves in the night! There must have been men on the inside; perhaps some of the cruder refugee ships tipped these pillagers off? If I do not complete tomorrow’s report, know that I abominate all pirates, and when judgement comes in the next life, may their souls be rent asunder, and their[Section Missing]

'''[Day 200,346]''': Thousands are dead, and we are dead in the water, as it were. If the flagship does not cruise, then the fleet must stop; we haven’t enough warp beacons left. If we stop in this system, this fleet will starve.
It is small comfort that we captured their Pirate bitch and her sloop. I shall reap a just reward on this ‘Lady’ Cassion’s flesh.
[Section Missing]

'''[Day 200,347]''': There are no words. Iacob... let her go. He had kept her alive all through our interrogations. He fought and bled to keep her alive. In return, all he asked of her was “Why? Why did you do this to us? We were willing to give you supplies, and to provide you with whatever you needed on the way. There was no need for conflict; there needn’t have been a battle this day.”
The vile pirate Queen looked at him, glaring. Her expression... I couldn’t read it. It was hateful, but not towards him. She held his gaze for what seemed like forever before she replied.
“It is the nature of things. I am sorry for your losses, but it is ever the way of the galaxy. In this grim darkness, there is only war.”
“No! No that is not good enough!”
This was the first time I had seen this small, unimposing man get angry, or even so much as raise his voice. This time he was loud and clarion clear. “For too long we have heard this. ‘I must be monstrous, for that is the tradition’, or ‘We must destroy you, lest our enemies see this as weakness, and strike us down’. We are not machines, built to slay! I will not be a tool of murder and destruction. Look upon this fleet; we should all have been enemies, and yet, though we are afraid, we have not made this relief fleet into an armada. We could have used this fleet to conquer all who stood in our way; this fleet is larger than the greatest Krork navy. There is too much death now. How many die every single day, for no purpose whatsoever? On the whims of people who do not deserve their loyalty? The more we fight and suffer and die on behalf of brutes, the more that black parasite of chaos feeds; suckling on our misery. We will find salvation, and we will do it through peace.”
“This is insanity. Your cowardice will kill you all,” the pirate hissed, in a curious mix of dismay and perhaps awe.
“I am not speaking of cowardice. What we are doing is what goodness is, and what is just. To let a foe strike you, so that that foe may realise their errors, is the bravest thing one can do. It is braver than a war, where one side desperately tries to kill the other, before their foe destroys them in turn.”
“You consider your pompous self sacrifice to be good? Then you, medicae Iacob, are the Last Good Man in this galaxy” scoffed the pirate woman.
Iacob responded by letting her go, and forbidding his men from impeding her, as she fled to her sloop and escaped our clutches. Our weapon stores are depleted (''because we stripped out our guns to fit in more space for our building cargo of living refugees''). I could not destroy her before she went to the warp. Truly, we are doomed.
[Section Missing]

'''[Day 200,499]''': All correspondence with Armageddon is lost. The Primarchs had rode out to meet the Imperium of Travesties in open war, fleet against fleet and Primarch against Primarch.
We are alone. My ship is still damaged, and our situation is bleak. I only hope tha[Section Missing]

'''[Day 200, 500]''': The pirates returned. I recognised their vast, dagger-shaped prows anywhere. I readied my empty guns, and marshalled by nearly non-existent soldiers for the coming massacre. But as I spoke to my absent gods, something unexpected happened. The pirates moved into formation with us. My Promethean Cultists say the engines they have supplied us with will help the fleet leave the system, and head towards the Dysonne Sphere at long last.
Once again, words fail to express my astonishment. I head into an uncertain future, and I am filled not only with dread, but, dare I say it, hope? A treasonous hope which whispers to me ‘perhaps he is right? Perhaps there is hope for us yet, even as the universe consumes itself? Just perhaps...’
[Section Missing- Significant amount of data corrupted. Salvaging closest remnants...]

'''[Day 378,893]''': Gods alive no![Garbled]... he’s walking on it! No! No! NO! NO! [unintelligible]d’s skin; it lives! Oh ch-[garbled] ther-[unintelligible]- opening up! All stations, prepare for evasive-

'''[Transcript Ends]'''

Details of The Fatemaker Controversy

2016-03-12T02:01:46Z

2601:2C5:8100:CF97:F540:BFA4:91A7:F151: Created page with "Not much is known today of the so-called Fatemaker Commandery. Where most historians agree is that the Vulkan Imperium originally contacted this insular Astartes Chapter in wh..."

Not much is known today of the so-called Fatemaker Commandery. Where most historians agree is that the Vulkan Imperium originally contacted this insular Astartes Chapter in what used to be the border of the old Malachias Sector in the late 54th Millennium. Their realm, which they referred to as the ‘Kapellan Safe Zone’, consisted of fifty well-organized and well-preserved worlds out of reach of most Galactic powers of that time.

The last fragmented records of the Pre-Strife era named the Fatemakers to be the sole guardians of that sector, and so it was originally presumed that these Space Marines were their direct descendants, who, in those long thousands of years, had changed their armor color and Chapter traditions. This was contradicted by the fact that the Kapellan Astartes, as they called themselves, apparently knew who the Fatemakers were, and they vehemently insisted that that particular Chapter had been destroyed, claiming that the Fatemakers ‘walked in a circle and are no more.’ The leader of the Vulkanite expedition and his Fire Beast advisors were not satisfied with this answer, especially after some compromising data had been found about the pursuits of the Kapellan Space Marines. Hostilities between the Vulkanite fleet and the Kapellan Safe Zone were cut short, however, when the Chapter Master of the Kapellans offered a deal to the fleet: he requested an audience with Vulkan himself, and in return, he would accept the Primarch’s judgement upon his realm without any further conditions.

The Chapter Master’s audience with the Primarch lasted for five hours, after which Vulkan gave the order to prepare his flagship, and personally took a journey to the Kapellan Safe Zone. There are no records what he witnessed there; however, on his return, he declared the Zone to be a semi-autonomous part of the Vulkan Empire, and that the Kapellans were indeed not identical to the Fatemaker Chapter.

Perhaps this was the problem which caused all these contradictions with the Kapellans: after all, if they were always referred to as “the Kapellans, who were definitely not the Fatemakers,” it was only to be expected that the Commandery itself was eventually associated with the name, whether they liked it or not. And they did not like it at all: it seemed that the Commandery was almost superstitiously reluctant to share anything in common with that ancient Chapter. The name stuck, however, and so by the beginning of the Last Primarch War, the Kapellans’ real Chapter name was barely mentioned at all.

Although the Kapellans apparently had unpleasant secrets, their use in battle was undeniable. They preferred two distinct strategies: a part of their forces was divided into small, specialized groups capable of applying surgical strikes against specific targets. While this set of tactics was reminiscent of typical Pre-Strife Space Marines, they had another tactical preference which was almost Crusade-era in nature. The Kapellans were fully comfortable with applying huge Astartes formations on the battlefields, which were accompanied by standard infantry, armour and aircraft, but was also supplemented by hordes of battle Ogryns calling themselves ‘Sons of Metragon.’ These abhumans were treated as equal citizens of the Safe Zone, and their ferocity and raw strength was further augmented by heavy cybernetization and crude but effective hand-to-hand weaponry. The Ogryns and the Kapellans’ other allies, including the [CLASSIFIED ON THE PERSONAL ORDER OF LORD VULKAN] also accompanied the Commendary to the muster before the Last Primarch War, although the Kapellans contributed an equally large force to the Magellan Reich to aid them against the war on the Chaos entity known as Doombred.

And so the Commandery fought its way into Galactic history, and in the light of the later events, the mystery surrounding the ancient Fatemakers seems trivial and irrelevant. My personal opinion is that we can accept the word of Lord Vulkan in this case: he personally ordered the Fatemaker Chapter symbol to be placed on the Wall of Remembrance on Armageddon. This wall contains all the symbols of the Space Marine Chapters which have perished since the creation of the first Astartes, and the inversed ‘Q’ among the other 846 symbols clearly indicates the Primarch’s belief in the Fatemakers’ final demise.

[Archivist Nikolai Guliano; excerpt from Astartes Chapters of the Human Imperiums, Unpublished Edition]