http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/api.php?action=feedcontributions&feedformat=atom&user=76.121.77.2262d4chan - User contributions [en]2026-04-24T10:12:59ZUser contributionsMediaWiki 1.43.0http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Female_Space_Marines&diff=211647Female Space Marines2014-07-13T17:17:29Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Summary */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{Promotions}}<br />
{{heresy}}<br />
[[Image:beakiegal.jpg|thumb|right|Guaranteed to garner at least 100 replies.]]<br />
<br />
There is no tactic more effective for [[RAGE|enraging]] a die-hard [[Space Marines|SPESS MEHREENS]] fanboy than discussing/drawing their [[Rule 63]] companion, '''Female Space Marines'''. Not to be confused with [[Sisters of Battle]], the canonical equivalent to Space Marines and also armed with bolters and chainswords, but ''Space Marine'' Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes, you know, the hypermuscular ones with [[Pauldrons]]. According to [[Games Workshop]] [[canon]], the procedures that are used to create a Space Marine only work properly on male subjects, rendering female Marines impossible; however, masturbators on the internet have not allowed this to deter them. Sometimes it is pointed out that back in the [[Rogue Trader]] days, Games Workshop did briefly produce two power-armoured female models, but they were changed to "Female Adventurers in Power Armour" and were never meant to represent female Marines. Considering this is from Games Workshop, who routinely [[Rape|violates]] [[Squats|their own canon in subsequent editions]], fanbase be damned, take this as you will.<br />
<br />
It's worth noting, though, that Games Workshop hasn't deterred /tg/ (or indeed, the [[Black Library]] writers) from coming up with ways to potentially allow for them, even with Space Marines being exclusively male being one of the rare things they've kept consistent. This is because, as was brought up in [[Daemonette|previous]] [[Monstergirls|articles]], little gets between a man and his fapbait.<br />
<br />
==The canon part==<br />
<br />
According to [[fluff]], the Space Marine process only works on males because "the zygotes are keyed to male hormones and tissue types" ([[God-Emperor of Mankind|and presumably also Big Boss' superior dominant genes]]). This essentially just means the process was designed with males in mind, and won't work on females because actually figuring out how technology works and using it to make other kinds of technology isn't how the Imperium rolls anymore.<br />
<br />
Additionally, they're descended from the Primarchs, who were meant to be the sons of the Emperor, who was a bloke. Which is a fucking weak reason to not have female space marines, as obviously a father can have sons AND daughters. Furthermore, if GW wanted, they could have written the setting with the gene-seed working on women as well, but they didn't. Nobody knows why, though ''theories'' abound ranging from things such as status quo (simply GW's dislike of change) to sexism (thinking having female space marines will ruin an "M for Manly" image GW wants for them).<br />
<br />
From an in-universe standpoint, it was mentioned in one of the Horus Heresy books that [[Malcador the Sigillite]] had suggested making one or two of the Primarchs female, half-jokingly saying that it might help to defuse competition between them. The Emperor was not amused by this at all and insisted that it simply couldn't be done. (And really, who wants to try to argue with him about it?)<br />
<br />
In canon terms, the closest female equivalent to a Space Marine would be the [[Sisters of Battle]], although they're not exactly as powerful as a marine and lack the gene-seed modifications and superhuman abilities that a Space Marine possesses.<br />
<br />
==But if we're being pedantic...==<br />
<br />
If we're being pedantic, Space Marines aren't male humans, they're post-human beings built using the bodies of human males. A male Astartes is not the same as a male human. Strictly speaking, they aren't male Astartes because the post-human race does not have a relevant sexual function (probably; Games Workshop has never really bothered detailing it).<br />
<br />
But that doesn't stop [[Black Library|stylish]] [[C.S.Goto|multimasturbators]] for looking for pseudo-scientific reason to indulge both their muscle girl fetishes and fondness for sci-fi toys. There is a certain intersex condition that allows a genetically male individual to be born as a hormonal female. It is called "Complete Androgene Insensitivity Syndrome" (CAIS). A person that is born with CAIS has XY Chromosomes, therefore they are genetically males. But since their cells are insensitive to androgenes they are born with female features, and develop as females. Such girls have testes in place of ovaries, therefore they produce testosterone instead of estrogen. <br />
<br />
So according to above statements it is theoretically possible to have -4 str Marines, if not in a way that would actually happen in-universe, and in a way that technically means they're male anyway. (This ignores the fact that Astartes are based on their Primarchs, on none of them are described as having CAIS. Meh, details.)<br />
<br />
Of course if we really ARE then the majority of human psykers around should be female, as most of the males are being used up to make Grey Knights (it takes a million to make one Knight), yet they're not.<br />
<br />
Another thing is that with the current view points of having more Gender balance in the storyline and the Space Marines are more or less the main characters its really only a matter of time before GW's retcons things, or even if they keep the Emperor design the gene-seed to work on men only. Its possible that somewhere down the line some Tech-priest was messing around the gene-seed to fix some errors and removed whatever it is that prevents the gene-seed form working on woman.<br />
<br />
==What would a female Space Marine look like?==<br />
[[File:Silver Skull.jpg|right|thumb|Tina likes long walks on the beach and slaying the Emperor's foes.]]<br />
Obviously, in the land of Rule 63 they are amazingly hot (and would totally do you), but in dark and gritty fluff-land where they would be optimised for combat rather than jacking off, they would probably have almost no recognisably female features left following surgery and genetic fuckery; they'd have the same big, bulky figures as males, further made unrecognisable by thick plate armour. A female Space Marine with her helmet on would look like a regular Space Marine.<br />
<br />
[[skub|This means all Space Marines with their helmets on might be female ''right now'' and you wouldn't even know.]]<br />
<br />
[[rage|FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUU-]]<br />
<br />
==[[Sindri|SSSSSIIIIIINNNNNNDDDDRRRRRRIIIII!!]]==<br />
<br />
Unexpected salvation - there are indeed (99.46% possible) Female Space Marines!...in The [[Eye Of Terror]]. Well out of it too - see, due to the nature of [[Chaos]], mutations are often a fact of life. Some desired, some not. What if one hulked out, burning, warped Chaos Space Marine secretly wishes he was the cute little girl who got flowers? Who smiled with joy? Who was so sweet?<br />
<br />
What if his gods are listening? If the nature of Chaos is what it is to any extent, there is a chance his deity will bestow him with what he has always wanted. Though of course, he could just as easily get an extra tentacle arm, or get mutated into [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]] - such is the nature of Chaos. [[Slaanesh]] especially grants this as a matter of routine, and its a safe bet to make that quite a lot of the [[Emperor's Children]] men are actually now women, or rather hermaphs. Such is the will of Slaanesh.<br />
<br />
This was ''confirmed'' in one of the earlier Chapter Approved articles - one that re-introduced mounted [[Daemonette]]s - in which a Governer-Militant fighting a Slaanesh warband mused that there were (apparently female) creatures that [[Heresy|were once Space Marines, but no longer]]. Considering Chaos can cause [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]], is anyone surprised by this?<br />
<br />
A more recent one comes form the Warzone Danmos which mentions refugee's of Danmos has produced a few Sons and Daughters that have become Ultramarines (in fact one full scout squad) while you could say the girls just joined their serfs, it also mentions they fought when the Ultramarines reclaimed the world which is something serfs don't do (unless you're an Excoriator serf). And yes the Adults who joined the Ultramar PDF to help aren't the same.<br />
<br />
So yes, Smurfs might have them.<br />
<br />
==[[Honsou]], You Sick Fuck==<br />
<br />
We know that you among the fans, despite all our attempts to dissaude you, want cute FEMALE SPHESS MAHREENS! And there is good news - technically, there ARE Female Space Marines IN OFFICIAL LORE. The catch? Yes there is a catch. And this one is the worst.<br />
<br />
Your FSM is a bloated, twisted, undying, insane, mutated pregnant mother-slave only alive because she's in the Eye of Terror.<br />
<br />
You see, [[Honsou]] of the [[Iron Warriors]], in an effort to squeeze new MAHREENS into the ranks without having to pay that other sick fuck [[Fabius Bile]] for clones, created a system of hideousness and sadness that pushes [[grimdark]] to a whole new level. He invented the [[Daemonculaba]], a system whereby a woman is chained and fed stuff which will morph her and her womb into something that was never meant to be. A boy is then (yes, a child), jammed, shoved or cut INTO the vagina and stays there for a while. When his time is ready, he, now XBAWKS HUEG and STRONG, will have to [[rip and tear|rip, tear]], or otherwise push his way out of his adoptive mother's womb/vagina. When he emerges, he will either be a fleshless mutant abomination, or will emerge as a fleshless, fully functional Chaos Space Marine in a fraction of the time, with all his growth stages and bionics and gene-seed already taken care of. How? [[Meme|It's fucking science]].<br />
<br />
This goes back to our Female Space Marine - you see, while she was being morphed and changed, [[Dark Mechanicus]] Biologos hereteks worked on her body, implanting gene-seed and making her physically a Female Space Marine, even if the form is rather off. Thus, her womb can turn children as well into Space Marines by having her womb 'grow' the required orgrans and stages directly into their bodies in a fraction of the time, days and weeks instead of years. Thankfully for the entire universe, this horror was destroyed before Honsou realized he could stick girls in there as well, and get double the recruits, and stumble upon the secret to true Female Space Marines.<br />
<br />
==WAIT A SECOND!==<br />
[[Image:NotSoFast.PNG|center]]<br />
<br />
Now we're talking about Honsou, there WAS another case of CANON FEMALE SPACE MARINE (sort of). Yea, I'm serious. Not a [[Daemonculaba|bloated and twisted parody of the birthing]], but a full fledged female space marine (without the organs and gene-seed, so more like a Sister of Battle but daemon-possessed and with bigger armor, but no one is perfect). The "bad" thing is it was briefly... a [[Awesome|Khornate Aspiring Champion]].<br />
<br />
Let's start the story. Just before [[Honsou|Honsou]] become the badass Warsmith he is now, he was a captain in the very warband he would lead afterwards. He was not alone, of course. There were two other in there: a bored (and boring) terminator champion called Forrix and a badass Khornate champion called Kroeger. In the assault to Hydra Cordatus (ya know, the one Honsou seized control over the warband), this Kroeger took Captain Larana Utorian, an Imperial Guardswoman, as a slave. Initially only to polish his armor and maintain his weapons, but I do not disagree with the idea of he used her to [[Slaanesh|polish other things or maintain his "sword".]]<br />
<br />
Anyway, Larana one day she started to hear voices coming from the armor and sword. Not strange, if we take the point that it were daemon equipment. The Daemon said that it has grown tired of Kroeger's petty slaughtering and wanted a new master. With the flow of the days and the war, the chick finally succumbed to the voices and wore the armor herself. Don't know how, but the daemons modified Larana's body to fit in the armor. Here you go: your [[Awesome|pissed off Khornate female Chaos Space Marine Champion.]]<br />
<br />
When Kroeger returned, he saw her in this attire. He was not pleased, of course, but little thing he could do. Before he can even touch her, she ripped off his head in a single blow. After that, she joined the final assault to the imperial stronghold against her former regiment as a proper Khornate. No one noted the difference. Only Forrix noted something, but were minor changes in fighting style. In the middle of the battle, Larana disappeared in a warp portal after killing a space marine librarian.<br />
<br />
[[-4 str|-4 str]]? Fuck that, she's Khornate, as [[Warriors of Chaos|Valkia]] shows in a daily basis.<br />
<br />
She returned some time after in Medrengard, when ex Ultrasmurf captain Uriel Ventris and his merry band of renegades were fucking the shit up in the fortress of Honsou, but only to return to her former self and hand the armour and the axe to their rightful owner: a [[Khorne|Bloodthirster]] chained in the core of the fortress, the called "Heart of Blood". After that she sacrificed herself with the remnants of her regiment (2 men), to cause critical damage to the fortress' structure and killing as many iron warriors as she could. Badass to the end, Larana showed that the [[Imperial Guard|standard-issue balls of steel]] and manliness are not male-only.<br />
<br />
==RAEG==<br />
<br />
RAGE is generated by the tactic in two distinct ways; either the neckbeard(s) assume that the creator of the work in question is unaware of the Space Marine fluff, and rage about his or her ignorance; failing that, it becomes clear that they are well aware of the fluff regarding these matters and willingly chose to disregard it, sending the poor neckbeards into fits of spastic rage that anyone would dare deliberately defile the sacrosanct canon of Games Workshop's masterpiece with the foul taint of cooties.<br />
<br />
[[troll|Still, the afromentioned creator will just ignore him.]]<br />
<br />
==A slightly more reasonable answer==<br />
<br />
The problem really is one of terminology. Women can wear power armour, certainly. Women can, through steroids, incessant bodybuilding, high protein diet, and a little genetic modding, be as buff and rocking as a space marine. But what really makes a space marine a space marine is all of the extra genetically-engineered organs and DNA and whatnot cloned from the Primarchs and implanted in the right way. With a little Fabius Bile magic, there's some vague possibility that you could put that stuff into a woman, but if its Fabius Bile doing it then its kinda more likely that he'd make you a dude with titties and a weird demon vagina than an actual female space marine. Because he's a swell guy like that. And even if he did make you a female space marine for reals, she still wouldn't be a space marine, just a weird, mutilated, chaos infused thing that approximates a space marine but can never truely be one.<br />
<br />
Worth noting, however, that given that Bile's experimented on damn-near everything (including the entire civilian populations of several planets) at some point or another for his attempts to duplicate the methods for creating new space marines, there's ample evidence to suggest that [[/d/|he's tried it at least once]]. Fucking [[Slaanesh]].<br />
<br />
There is a logical answer to that problem that is very mathematical in essence. Let's admit women and men are no different as to combat skill ( Which, because of culture, hormones and whatnot, is already taking away a disadvantage from women ). The only difference is thus physical, with women being, '''on average''', weaker : This means there are women stronger than men, there are even some stronger than '''most''' men, but odds are very high that the strongest individual in any given population will be a man.<br />
<br />
Now that's a lot of "likely", "odds" and "on average", but let's face it :<br />
<br />
- Worlds will numbers '''billions''' of individuals, '''untold billions''', meaning average is law ( Law of large numbers and everything ).<br />
<br />
- With the Imperium's propensity to make its planets ( Especially those Chapters recruit from ) '''shitholes''' constantly assaulted by raiders, xenos, and its own dangerous fauna and climate, we can, without much risk, say one thing : Women are still the only part of the human race that can give birth to children, and thus by eliminating the women with the best genes from the gene pool by turning them into asexual birth incapable Space Marines, the Imperium would commit suicide and the Emperor would bawl in dying Corpse-Throne tears of having destroyed the human race by trying to give it a beyond physical human means of defending itself. Women see plenty of fighting, as Guard, Sororitas, Inquisitors, Mechanicus, Knights, Ecclesiarchs, Rogue Traders, mercenaries, Pirates, Un/Sanctioned Psykers, Cultists, Arbites and so forth. The Imperium just can't destroy the gene pool without turning to cloning, which means relying on machines to bring forth the human form, which is HERESY.<br />
<br />
==Summary==<br />
<br />
For the most part, the neckbeards on /tg/ fear anything with two X chromosomes. For the most part, anyone who actually makes an army of female Space Marines does it to garner the most ire from the most diehard fans. Like playing a [[Tau]] army, it's all about drinking the rage-induced tears of sexually stunted men.<br />
<br />
<br />
Considering all the shenanigans involved in Space Marine transfusion, which involve complete overhaul of bone and muscle structure, turning the center of the chest into the carrier of the implanted geneseed that allowed for this alteration, and a form genital nullification of at the very least nerves and very probably sterilization and possibly castration/genetically modified urine excretory system, it is thus determined Space Marines, in their final form, do not actually have a gender per se due to their physiology, it’s just that so far, Games Workshop has referred to them as having been men prior to becoming Space Marines and their aren’t any Space Marines exhibiting female physique, though quite frankly, Space Marines don’t have a male physique, either. So, both the Female Space Marine Chapters and the use of Space Marines by Cultists of the Male Marine to justify male awesome sauce trumping female awesome sauce (there shouldn’t be a competition, it doesn’t matter) simply by being interpreted to fit male stereotypes, vice versa, which they not only often do not in the fluff but is also unscientific and thus has no place in the 40k universe.<br />
<br />
However, that also does not exclude women from becoming Space Marines in theory. They just lose the female boobs and an effective uterus along the way, just as both males and females lose any physical traits that deviate from the space marine build and are sterile. So, you can still field Space Marines who were male or female, just remember that, beyond their gender identification, they are effectively sterile asexual humanoids who can’t really be compared to either gender because they aren’t really human in the same sense. This has the added hilarity of being able to technically bring Female Space Marines using GW unmodified models with a Space Marine Army list to a tournament, and as long their name doesn’t suggest they are female, and you aren’t using Female Scouts (save that for outside the tournament) they can’t disqualify you, and the same goes for winning the Golden Demon.<br />
<br />
==See Also==<br />
<br />
*[[Golden Aquilas]]: /tg/ homebrew chapter, designed to cause as much RAEG and accusations of derp as possible.<br />
*[[Space Marines]]: Rule 63 equivalent of female space...Wait.<br />
*[[Sisters of Battle]]: the warrior nuns of the Imperium that typically are actually armed with bolters and chainswords and whom might be construed to some reasonable extent as being the 'female space marines' of Warhammer 40,000<br />
*[[Samus]]: How about a female Primarch?<br />
<br />
==Gallery==<br />
<br />
<center><gallery><br />
Image:Sisters of anger2.png|And if you think this is bad, once a month they all gain Frenzy.<br />
Image:1227373581722.gif|Lol. Why u mad though?<br />
Image:Nidsrape.jpg|Brother-sister Igpay Atinlay boldly distracts the Tyranid foe.<br />
Image:spessbitch.jpg|Not in fact [[Horo]].<br />
File:Female_warhammer_40k_imperium_model_--_100D0212.jpg|She'd be even scarier if she took off that mask<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Gabs.jpg|DYKE OUTTA FUCKING NOWHERE!<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Jayne.jpg|Your eyes should start bleeding right about now.<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_--_Ingunna_Daughter_of_Russ_by_Greymark.jpg|PMS BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!<br />
File:1k heresy.jpg|<s>Not</s> [[Just as planned]]. and now you know why Tzeentch doesn't invite Slaanesh to his birthday parties anymore. [[Just as planned]]<br />
File:Primarchs as teen girls.png| The Emperor made the Primarchs to be the greatest human warriors of all time, but [[Warhammer_High|even they were not immune]] to [[Rule 63]].<br />
File:Femprah_by_Mr-Culexus.jpg|She was not amused by this development.<br />
File:Saber ultra marine.jpg|Don't piss off Mama Smurf. Trust me your genitals will not survive. Shouldn't she be with the dark angels?<br />
File:Chaos saber.jpg|Somehow still less of a failure than the real Abaddon.<br />
</gallery></center><br />
<br />
[[Category:Imperial]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Female_Space_Marines&diff=211646Female Space Marines2014-07-13T17:16:23Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Summary */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{Promotions}}<br />
{{heresy}}<br />
[[Image:beakiegal.jpg|thumb|right|Guaranteed to garner at least 100 replies.]]<br />
<br />
There is no tactic more effective for [[RAGE|enraging]] a die-hard [[Space Marines|SPESS MEHREENS]] fanboy than discussing/drawing their [[Rule 63]] companion, '''Female Space Marines'''. Not to be confused with [[Sisters of Battle]], the canonical equivalent to Space Marines and also armed with bolters and chainswords, but ''Space Marine'' Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes, you know, the hypermuscular ones with [[Pauldrons]]. According to [[Games Workshop]] [[canon]], the procedures that are used to create a Space Marine only work properly on male subjects, rendering female Marines impossible; however, masturbators on the internet have not allowed this to deter them. Sometimes it is pointed out that back in the [[Rogue Trader]] days, Games Workshop did briefly produce two power-armoured female models, but they were changed to "Female Adventurers in Power Armour" and were never meant to represent female Marines. Considering this is from Games Workshop, who routinely [[Rape|violates]] [[Squats|their own canon in subsequent editions]], fanbase be damned, take this as you will.<br />
<br />
It's worth noting, though, that Games Workshop hasn't deterred /tg/ (or indeed, the [[Black Library]] writers) from coming up with ways to potentially allow for them, even with Space Marines being exclusively male being one of the rare things they've kept consistent. This is because, as was brought up in [[Daemonette|previous]] [[Monstergirls|articles]], little gets between a man and his fapbait.<br />
<br />
==The canon part==<br />
<br />
According to [[fluff]], the Space Marine process only works on males because "the zygotes are keyed to male hormones and tissue types" ([[God-Emperor of Mankind|and presumably also Big Boss' superior dominant genes]]). This essentially just means the process was designed with males in mind, and won't work on females because actually figuring out how technology works and using it to make other kinds of technology isn't how the Imperium rolls anymore.<br />
<br />
Additionally, they're descended from the Primarchs, who were meant to be the sons of the Emperor, who was a bloke. Which is a fucking weak reason to not have female space marines, as obviously a father can have sons AND daughters. Furthermore, if GW wanted, they could have written the setting with the gene-seed working on women as well, but they didn't. Nobody knows why, though ''theories'' abound ranging from things such as status quo (simply GW's dislike of change) to sexism (thinking having female space marines will ruin an "M for Manly" image GW wants for them).<br />
<br />
From an in-universe standpoint, it was mentioned in one of the Horus Heresy books that [[Malcador the Sigillite]] had suggested making one or two of the Primarchs female, half-jokingly saying that it might help to defuse competition between them. The Emperor was not amused by this at all and insisted that it simply couldn't be done. (And really, who wants to try to argue with him about it?)<br />
<br />
In canon terms, the closest female equivalent to a Space Marine would be the [[Sisters of Battle]], although they're not exactly as powerful as a marine and lack the gene-seed modifications and superhuman abilities that a Space Marine possesses.<br />
<br />
==But if we're being pedantic...==<br />
<br />
If we're being pedantic, Space Marines aren't male humans, they're post-human beings built using the bodies of human males. A male Astartes is not the same as a male human. Strictly speaking, they aren't male Astartes because the post-human race does not have a relevant sexual function (probably; Games Workshop has never really bothered detailing it).<br />
<br />
But that doesn't stop [[Black Library|stylish]] [[C.S.Goto|multimasturbators]] for looking for pseudo-scientific reason to indulge both their muscle girl fetishes and fondness for sci-fi toys. There is a certain intersex condition that allows a genetically male individual to be born as a hormonal female. It is called "Complete Androgene Insensitivity Syndrome" (CAIS). A person that is born with CAIS has XY Chromosomes, therefore they are genetically males. But since their cells are insensitive to androgenes they are born with female features, and develop as females. Such girls have testes in place of ovaries, therefore they produce testosterone instead of estrogen. <br />
<br />
So according to above statements it is theoretically possible to have -4 str Marines, if not in a way that would actually happen in-universe, and in a way that technically means they're male anyway. (This ignores the fact that Astartes are based on their Primarchs, on none of them are described as having CAIS. Meh, details.)<br />
<br />
Of course if we really ARE then the majority of human psykers around should be female, as most of the males are being used up to make Grey Knights (it takes a million to make one Knight), yet they're not.<br />
<br />
Another thing is that with the current view points of having more Gender balance in the storyline and the Space Marines are more or less the main characters its really only a matter of time before GW's retcons things, or even if they keep the Emperor design the gene-seed to work on men only. Its possible that somewhere down the line some Tech-priest was messing around the gene-seed to fix some errors and removed whatever it is that prevents the gene-seed form working on woman.<br />
<br />
==What would a female Space Marine look like?==<br />
[[File:Silver Skull.jpg|right|thumb|Tina likes long walks on the beach and slaying the Emperor's foes.]]<br />
Obviously, in the land of Rule 63 they are amazingly hot (and would totally do you), but in dark and gritty fluff-land where they would be optimised for combat rather than jacking off, they would probably have almost no recognisably female features left following surgery and genetic fuckery; they'd have the same big, bulky figures as males, further made unrecognisable by thick plate armour. A female Space Marine with her helmet on would look like a regular Space Marine.<br />
<br />
[[skub|This means all Space Marines with their helmets on might be female ''right now'' and you wouldn't even know.]]<br />
<br />
[[rage|FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUU-]]<br />
<br />
==[[Sindri|SSSSSIIIIIINNNNNNDDDDRRRRRRIIIII!!]]==<br />
<br />
Unexpected salvation - there are indeed (99.46% possible) Female Space Marines!...in The [[Eye Of Terror]]. Well out of it too - see, due to the nature of [[Chaos]], mutations are often a fact of life. Some desired, some not. What if one hulked out, burning, warped Chaos Space Marine secretly wishes he was the cute little girl who got flowers? Who smiled with joy? Who was so sweet?<br />
<br />
What if his gods are listening? If the nature of Chaos is what it is to any extent, there is a chance his deity will bestow him with what he has always wanted. Though of course, he could just as easily get an extra tentacle arm, or get mutated into [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]] - such is the nature of Chaos. [[Slaanesh]] especially grants this as a matter of routine, and its a safe bet to make that quite a lot of the [[Emperor's Children]] men are actually now women, or rather hermaphs. Such is the will of Slaanesh.<br />
<br />
This was ''confirmed'' in one of the earlier Chapter Approved articles - one that re-introduced mounted [[Daemonette]]s - in which a Governer-Militant fighting a Slaanesh warband mused that there were (apparently female) creatures that [[Heresy|were once Space Marines, but no longer]]. Considering Chaos can cause [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]], is anyone surprised by this?<br />
<br />
A more recent one comes form the Warzone Danmos which mentions refugee's of Danmos has produced a few Sons and Daughters that have become Ultramarines (in fact one full scout squad) while you could say the girls just joined their serfs, it also mentions they fought when the Ultramarines reclaimed the world which is something serfs don't do (unless you're an Excoriator serf). And yes the Adults who joined the Ultramar PDF to help aren't the same.<br />
<br />
So yes, Smurfs might have them.<br />
<br />
==[[Honsou]], You Sick Fuck==<br />
<br />
We know that you among the fans, despite all our attempts to dissaude you, want cute FEMALE SPHESS MAHREENS! And there is good news - technically, there ARE Female Space Marines IN OFFICIAL LORE. The catch? Yes there is a catch. And this one is the worst.<br />
<br />
Your FSM is a bloated, twisted, undying, insane, mutated pregnant mother-slave only alive because she's in the Eye of Terror.<br />
<br />
You see, [[Honsou]] of the [[Iron Warriors]], in an effort to squeeze new MAHREENS into the ranks without having to pay that other sick fuck [[Fabius Bile]] for clones, created a system of hideousness and sadness that pushes [[grimdark]] to a whole new level. He invented the [[Daemonculaba]], a system whereby a woman is chained and fed stuff which will morph her and her womb into something that was never meant to be. A boy is then (yes, a child), jammed, shoved or cut INTO the vagina and stays there for a while. When his time is ready, he, now XBAWKS HUEG and STRONG, will have to [[rip and tear|rip, tear]], or otherwise push his way out of his adoptive mother's womb/vagina. When he emerges, he will either be a fleshless mutant abomination, or will emerge as a fleshless, fully functional Chaos Space Marine in a fraction of the time, with all his growth stages and bionics and gene-seed already taken care of. How? [[Meme|It's fucking science]].<br />
<br />
This goes back to our Female Space Marine - you see, while she was being morphed and changed, [[Dark Mechanicus]] Biologos hereteks worked on her body, implanting gene-seed and making her physically a Female Space Marine, even if the form is rather off. Thus, her womb can turn children as well into Space Marines by having her womb 'grow' the required orgrans and stages directly into their bodies in a fraction of the time, days and weeks instead of years. Thankfully for the entire universe, this horror was destroyed before Honsou realized he could stick girls in there as well, and get double the recruits, and stumble upon the secret to true Female Space Marines.<br />
<br />
==WAIT A SECOND!==<br />
[[Image:NotSoFast.PNG|center]]<br />
<br />
Now we're talking about Honsou, there WAS another case of CANON FEMALE SPACE MARINE (sort of). Yea, I'm serious. Not a [[Daemonculaba|bloated and twisted parody of the birthing]], but a full fledged female space marine (without the organs and gene-seed, so more like a Sister of Battle but daemon-possessed and with bigger armor, but no one is perfect). The "bad" thing is it was briefly... a [[Awesome|Khornate Aspiring Champion]].<br />
<br />
Let's start the story. Just before [[Honsou|Honsou]] become the badass Warsmith he is now, he was a captain in the very warband he would lead afterwards. He was not alone, of course. There were two other in there: a bored (and boring) terminator champion called Forrix and a badass Khornate champion called Kroeger. In the assault to Hydra Cordatus (ya know, the one Honsou seized control over the warband), this Kroeger took Captain Larana Utorian, an Imperial Guardswoman, as a slave. Initially only to polish his armor and maintain his weapons, but I do not disagree with the idea of he used her to [[Slaanesh|polish other things or maintain his "sword".]]<br />
<br />
Anyway, Larana one day she started to hear voices coming from the armor and sword. Not strange, if we take the point that it were daemon equipment. The Daemon said that it has grown tired of Kroeger's petty slaughtering and wanted a new master. With the flow of the days and the war, the chick finally succumbed to the voices and wore the armor herself. Don't know how, but the daemons modified Larana's body to fit in the armor. Here you go: your [[Awesome|pissed off Khornate female Chaos Space Marine Champion.]]<br />
<br />
When Kroeger returned, he saw her in this attire. He was not pleased, of course, but little thing he could do. Before he can even touch her, she ripped off his head in a single blow. After that, she joined the final assault to the imperial stronghold against her former regiment as a proper Khornate. No one noted the difference. Only Forrix noted something, but were minor changes in fighting style. In the middle of the battle, Larana disappeared in a warp portal after killing a space marine librarian.<br />
<br />
[[-4 str|-4 str]]? Fuck that, she's Khornate, as [[Warriors of Chaos|Valkia]] shows in a daily basis.<br />
<br />
She returned some time after in Medrengard, when ex Ultrasmurf captain Uriel Ventris and his merry band of renegades were fucking the shit up in the fortress of Honsou, but only to return to her former self and hand the armour and the axe to their rightful owner: a [[Khorne|Bloodthirster]] chained in the core of the fortress, the called "Heart of Blood". After that she sacrificed herself with the remnants of her regiment (2 men), to cause critical damage to the fortress' structure and killing as many iron warriors as she could. Badass to the end, Larana showed that the [[Imperial Guard|standard-issue balls of steel]] and manliness are not male-only.<br />
<br />
==RAEG==<br />
<br />
RAGE is generated by the tactic in two distinct ways; either the neckbeard(s) assume that the creator of the work in question is unaware of the Space Marine fluff, and rage about his or her ignorance; failing that, it becomes clear that they are well aware of the fluff regarding these matters and willingly chose to disregard it, sending the poor neckbeards into fits of spastic rage that anyone would dare deliberately defile the sacrosanct canon of Games Workshop's masterpiece with the foul taint of cooties.<br />
<br />
[[troll|Still, the afromentioned creator will just ignore him.]]<br />
<br />
==A slightly more reasonable answer==<br />
<br />
The problem really is one of terminology. Women can wear power armour, certainly. Women can, through steroids, incessant bodybuilding, high protein diet, and a little genetic modding, be as buff and rocking as a space marine. But what really makes a space marine a space marine is all of the extra genetically-engineered organs and DNA and whatnot cloned from the Primarchs and implanted in the right way. With a little Fabius Bile magic, there's some vague possibility that you could put that stuff into a woman, but if its Fabius Bile doing it then its kinda more likely that he'd make you a dude with titties and a weird demon vagina than an actual female space marine. Because he's a swell guy like that. And even if he did make you a female space marine for reals, she still wouldn't be a space marine, just a weird, mutilated, chaos infused thing that approximates a space marine but can never truely be one.<br />
<br />
Worth noting, however, that given that Bile's experimented on damn-near everything (including the entire civilian populations of several planets) at some point or another for his attempts to duplicate the methods for creating new space marines, there's ample evidence to suggest that [[/d/|he's tried it at least once]]. Fucking [[Slaanesh]].<br />
<br />
There is a logical answer to that problem that is very mathematical in essence. Let's admit women and men are no different as to combat skill ( Which, because of culture, hormones and whatnot, is already taking away a disadvantage from women ). The only difference is thus physical, with women being, '''on average''', weaker : This means there are women stronger than men, there are even some stronger than '''most''' men, but odds are very high that the strongest individual in any given population will be a man.<br />
<br />
Now that's a lot of "likely", "odds" and "on average", but let's face it :<br />
<br />
- Worlds will numbers '''billions''' of individuals, '''untold billions''', meaning average is law ( Law of large numbers and everything ).<br />
<br />
- With the Imperium's propensity to make its planets ( Especially those Chapters recruit from ) '''shitholes''' constantly assaulted by raiders, xenos, and its own dangerous fauna and climate, we can, without much risk, say one thing : Women are still the only part of the human race that can give birth to children, and thus by eliminating the women with the best genes from the gene pool by turning them into asexual birth incapable Space Marines, the Imperium would commit suicide and the Emperor would bawl in dying Corpse-Throne tears of having destroyed the human race by trying to give it a beyond physical human means of defending itself. Women see plenty of fighting, as Guard, Sororitas, Inquisitors, Mechanicus, Knights, Ecclesiarchs, Rogue Traders, mercenaries, Pirates, Un/Sanctioned Psykers, Cultists, Arbites and so forth. The Imperium just can't destroy the gene pool without turning to cloning, which means relying on machines to bring forth the human form, which is HERESY.<br />
<br />
==Summary==<br />
<br />
For the most part, the neckbeards on /tg/ fear anything with two X chromosomes. For the most part, anyone who actually makes an army of female Space Marines does it to garner the most ire from the most diehard fans. Like playing a [[Tau]] army, it's all about drinking the rage-induced tears of sexually stunted men.<br />
<br />
<br />
Considering all the shenanigans involved in Space Marine transfusion, which involve complete overhaul of bone and muscle structure, turning the center of the chest into the carrier of the implanted geneseed that allowed for this alteration, and a form genital nullification of at the very least nerves and very probably sterilization and possibly castration/genetically modified urine excretory system, it is thus determined Space Marines, in their final form, do not actually have a gender per se due to their physiology, it’s just that so far, Games Workshop has referred to them as having been men prior to becoming Space Marines and their aren’t any Space Marines exhibiting female physique, though quite frankly, Space Marines don’t have a male physique, either. So, both the Female Space Marine Chapters and the use of Space Marines by Cultists of the Male Marine to justify male awesome sauce trumping female awesome sauce (there shouldn’t be a competition, it doesn’t matter) simply by being interpreted to fit male stereotypes, because they often do not vice versa, is unscientific and thus has no place in the 40k universe.<br />
<br />
However, that also does not exclude women from becoming Space Marines in theory. They just lose the female boobs and an effective uterus along the way, just as both males and females lose any physical traits that deviate from the space marine build and are sterile. So, you can still field Space Marines who were male or female, just remember that, beyond their gender identification, they are effectively sterile asexual humanoids who can’t really be compared to either gender because they aren’t really human in the same sense. This has the added hilarity of being able to technically bring Female Space Marines using GW unmodified models with a Space Marine Army list to a tournament, and as long their name doesn’t suggest they are female, and you aren’t using Female Scouts (save that for outside the tournament) they can’t disqualify you, and the same goes for winning the Golden Demon.<br />
<br />
==See Also==<br />
<br />
*[[Golden Aquilas]]: /tg/ homebrew chapter, designed to cause as much RAEG and accusations of derp as possible.<br />
*[[Space Marines]]: Rule 63 equivalent of female space...Wait.<br />
*[[Sisters of Battle]]: the warrior nuns of the Imperium that typically are actually armed with bolters and chainswords and whom might be construed to some reasonable extent as being the 'female space marines' of Warhammer 40,000<br />
*[[Samus]]: How about a female Primarch?<br />
<br />
==Gallery==<br />
<br />
<center><gallery><br />
Image:Sisters of anger2.png|And if you think this is bad, once a month they all gain Frenzy.<br />
Image:1227373581722.gif|Lol. Why u mad though?<br />
Image:Nidsrape.jpg|Brother-sister Igpay Atinlay boldly distracts the Tyranid foe.<br />
Image:spessbitch.jpg|Not in fact [[Horo]].<br />
File:Female_warhammer_40k_imperium_model_--_100D0212.jpg|She'd be even scarier if she took off that mask<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Gabs.jpg|DYKE OUTTA FUCKING NOWHERE!<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Jayne.jpg|Your eyes should start bleeding right about now.<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_--_Ingunna_Daughter_of_Russ_by_Greymark.jpg|PMS BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!<br />
File:1k heresy.jpg|<s>Not</s> [[Just as planned]]. and now you know why Tzeentch doesn't invite Slaanesh to his birthday parties anymore. [[Just as planned]]<br />
File:Primarchs as teen girls.png| The Emperor made the Primarchs to be the greatest human warriors of all time, but [[Warhammer_High|even they were not immune]] to [[Rule 63]].<br />
File:Femprah_by_Mr-Culexus.jpg|She was not amused by this development.<br />
File:Saber ultra marine.jpg|Don't piss off Mama Smurf. Trust me your genitals will not survive. Shouldn't she be with the dark angels?<br />
File:Chaos saber.jpg|Somehow still less of a failure than the real Abaddon.<br />
</gallery></center><br />
<br />
[[Category:Imperial]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Female_Space_Marines&diff=211645Female Space Marines2014-07-13T07:53:25Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Summary */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{Promotions}}<br />
{{heresy}}<br />
[[Image:beakiegal.jpg|thumb|right|Guaranteed to garner at least 100 replies.]]<br />
<br />
There is no tactic more effective for [[RAGE|enraging]] a die-hard [[Space Marines|SPESS MEHREENS]] fanboy than discussing/drawing their [[Rule 63]] companion, '''Female Space Marines'''. Not to be confused with [[Sisters of Battle]], the canonical equivalent to Space Marines and also armed with bolters and chainswords, but ''Space Marine'' Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes, you know, the hypermuscular ones with [[Pauldrons]]. According to [[Games Workshop]] [[canon]], the procedures that are used to create a Space Marine only work properly on male subjects, rendering female Marines impossible; however, masturbators on the internet have not allowed this to deter them. Sometimes it is pointed out that back in the [[Rogue Trader]] days, Games Workshop did briefly produce two power-armoured female models, but they were changed to "Female Adventurers in Power Armour" and were never meant to represent female Marines. Considering this is from Games Workshop, who routinely [[Rape|violates]] [[Squats|their own canon in subsequent editions]], fanbase be damned, take this as you will.<br />
<br />
It's worth noting, though, that Games Workshop hasn't deterred /tg/ (or indeed, the [[Black Library]] writers) from coming up with ways to potentially allow for them, even with Space Marines being exclusively male being one of the rare things they've kept consistent. This is because, as was brought up in [[Daemonette|previous]] [[Monstergirls|articles]], little gets between a man and his fapbait.<br />
<br />
==The canon part==<br />
<br />
According to [[fluff]], the Space Marine process only works on males because "the zygotes are keyed to male hormones and tissue types" ([[God-Emperor of Mankind|and presumably also Big Boss' superior dominant genes]]). This essentially just means the process was designed with males in mind, and won't work on females because actually figuring out how technology works and using it to make other kinds of technology isn't how the Imperium rolls anymore.<br />
<br />
Additionally, they're descended from the Primarchs, who were meant to be the sons of the Emperor, who was a bloke. Which is a fucking weak reason to not have female space marines, as obviously a father can have sons AND daughters. Furthermore, if GW wanted, they could have written the setting with the gene-seed working on women as well, but they didn't. Nobody knows why, though ''theories'' abound ranging from things such as status quo (simply GW's dislike of change) to sexism (thinking having female space marines will ruin an "M for Manly" image GW wants for them).<br />
<br />
From an in-universe standpoint, it was mentioned in one of the Horus Heresy books that [[Malcador the Sigillite]] had suggested making one or two of the Primarchs female, half-jokingly saying that it might help to defuse competition between them. The Emperor was not amused by this at all and insisted that it simply couldn't be done. (And really, who wants to try to argue with him about it?)<br />
<br />
In canon terms, the closest female equivalent to a Space Marine would be the [[Sisters of Battle]], although they're not exactly as powerful as a marine and lack the gene-seed modifications and superhuman abilities that a Space Marine possesses.<br />
<br />
==But if we're being pedantic...==<br />
<br />
If we're being pedantic, Space Marines aren't male humans, they're post-human beings built using the bodies of human males. A male Astartes is not the same as a male human. Strictly speaking, they aren't male Astartes because the post-human race does not have a relevant sexual function (probably; Games Workshop has never really bothered detailing it).<br />
<br />
But that doesn't stop [[Black Library|stylish]] [[C.S.Goto|multimasturbators]] for looking for pseudo-scientific reason to indulge both their muscle girl fetishes and fondness for sci-fi toys. There is a certain intersex condition that allows a genetically male individual to be born as a hormonal female. It is called "Complete Androgene Insensitivity Syndrome" (CAIS). A person that is born with CAIS has XY Chromosomes, therefore they are genetically males. But since their cells are insensitive to androgenes they are born with female features, and develop as females. Such girls have testes in place of ovaries, therefore they produce testosterone instead of estrogen. <br />
<br />
So according to above statements it is theoretically possible to have -4 str Marines, if not in a way that would actually happen in-universe, and in a way that technically means they're male anyway. (This ignores the fact that Astartes are based on their Primarchs, on none of them are described as having CAIS. Meh, details.)<br />
<br />
Of course if we really ARE then the majority of human psykers around should be female, as most of the males are being used up to make Grey Knights (it takes a million to make one Knight), yet they're not.<br />
<br />
Another thing is that with the current view points of having more Gender balance in the storyline and the Space Marines are more or less the main characters its really only a matter of time before GW's retcons things, or even if they keep the Emperor design the gene-seed to work on men only. Its possible that somewhere down the line some Tech-priest was messing around the gene-seed to fix some errors and removed whatever it is that prevents the gene-seed form working on woman.<br />
<br />
==What would a female Space Marine look like?==<br />
[[File:Silver Skull.jpg|right|thumb|Tina likes long walks on the beach and slaying the Emperor's foes.]]<br />
Obviously, in the land of Rule 63 they are amazingly hot (and would totally do you), but in dark and gritty fluff-land where they would be optimised for combat rather than jacking off, they would probably have almost no recognisably female features left following surgery and genetic fuckery; they'd have the same big, bulky figures as males, further made unrecognisable by thick plate armour. A female Space Marine with her helmet on would look like a regular Space Marine.<br />
<br />
[[skub|This means all Space Marines with their helmets on might be female ''right now'' and you wouldn't even know.]]<br />
<br />
[[rage|FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUU-]]<br />
<br />
==[[Sindri|SSSSSIIIIIINNNNNNDDDDRRRRRRIIIII!!]]==<br />
<br />
Unexpected salvation - there are indeed (99.46% possible) Female Space Marines!...in The [[Eye Of Terror]]. Well out of it too - see, due to the nature of [[Chaos]], mutations are often a fact of life. Some desired, some not. What if one hulked out, burning, warped Chaos Space Marine secretly wishes he was the cute little girl who got flowers? Who smiled with joy? Who was so sweet?<br />
<br />
What if his gods are listening? If the nature of Chaos is what it is to any extent, there is a chance his deity will bestow him with what he has always wanted. Though of course, he could just as easily get an extra tentacle arm, or get mutated into [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]] - such is the nature of Chaos. [[Slaanesh]] especially grants this as a matter of routine, and its a safe bet to make that quite a lot of the [[Emperor's Children]] men are actually now women, or rather hermaphs. Such is the will of Slaanesh.<br />
<br />
This was ''confirmed'' in one of the earlier Chapter Approved articles - one that re-introduced mounted [[Daemonette]]s - in which a Governer-Militant fighting a Slaanesh warband mused that there were (apparently female) creatures that [[Heresy|were once Space Marines, but no longer]]. Considering Chaos can cause [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]], is anyone surprised by this?<br />
<br />
A more recent one comes form the Warzone Danmos which mentions refugee's of Danmos has produced a few Sons and Daughters that have become Ultramarines (in fact one full scout squad) while you could say the girls just joined their serfs, it also mentions they fought when the Ultramarines reclaimed the world which is something serfs don't do (unless you're an Excoriator serf). And yes the Adults who joined the Ultramar PDF to help aren't the same.<br />
<br />
So yes, Smurfs might have them.<br />
<br />
==[[Honsou]], You Sick Fuck==<br />
<br />
We know that you among the fans, despite all our attempts to dissaude you, want cute FEMALE SPHESS MAHREENS! And there is good news - technically, there ARE Female Space Marines IN OFFICIAL LORE. The catch? Yes there is a catch. And this one is the worst.<br />
<br />
Your FSM is a bloated, twisted, undying, insane, mutated pregnant mother-slave only alive because she's in the Eye of Terror.<br />
<br />
You see, [[Honsou]] of the [[Iron Warriors]], in an effort to squeeze new MAHREENS into the ranks without having to pay that other sick fuck [[Fabius Bile]] for clones, created a system of hideousness and sadness that pushes [[grimdark]] to a whole new level. He invented the [[Daemonculaba]], a system whereby a woman is chained and fed stuff which will morph her and her womb into something that was never meant to be. A boy is then (yes, a child), jammed, shoved or cut INTO the vagina and stays there for a while. When his time is ready, he, now XBAWKS HUEG and STRONG, will have to [[rip and tear|rip, tear]], or otherwise push his way out of his adoptive mother's womb/vagina. When he emerges, he will either be a fleshless mutant abomination, or will emerge as a fleshless, fully functional Chaos Space Marine in a fraction of the time, with all his growth stages and bionics and gene-seed already taken care of. How? [[Meme|It's fucking science]].<br />
<br />
This goes back to our Female Space Marine - you see, while she was being morphed and changed, [[Dark Mechanicus]] Biologos hereteks worked on her body, implanting gene-seed and making her physically a Female Space Marine, even if the form is rather off. Thus, her womb can turn children as well into Space Marines by having her womb 'grow' the required orgrans and stages directly into their bodies in a fraction of the time, days and weeks instead of years. Thankfully for the entire universe, this horror was destroyed before Honsou realized he could stick girls in there as well, and get double the recruits, and stumble upon the secret to true Female Space Marines.<br />
<br />
==WAIT A SECOND!==<br />
[[Image:NotSoFast.PNG|center]]<br />
<br />
Now we're talking about Honsou, there WAS another case of CANON FEMALE SPACE MARINE (sort of). Yea, I'm serious. Not a [[Daemonculaba|bloated and twisted parody of the birthing]], but a full fledged female space marine (without the organs and gene-seed, so more like a Sister of Battle but daemon-possessed and with bigger armor, but no one is perfect). The "bad" thing is it was briefly... a [[Awesome|Khornate Aspiring Champion]].<br />
<br />
Let's start the story. Just before [[Honsou|Honsou]] become the badass Warsmith he is now, he was a captain in the very warband he would lead afterwards. He was not alone, of course. There were two other in there: a bored (and boring) terminator champion called Forrix and a badass Khornate champion called Kroeger. In the assault to Hydra Cordatus (ya know, the one Honsou seized control over the warband), this Kroeger took Captain Larana Utorian, an Imperial Guardswoman, as a slave. Initially only to polish his armor and maintain his weapons, but I do not disagree with the idea of he used her to [[Slaanesh|polish other things or maintain his "sword".]]<br />
<br />
Anyway, Larana one day she started to hear voices coming from the armor and sword. Not strange, if we take the point that it were daemon equipment. The Daemon said that it has grown tired of Kroeger's petty slaughtering and wanted a new master. With the flow of the days and the war, the chick finally succumbed to the voices and wore the armor herself. Don't know how, but the daemons modified Larana's body to fit in the armor. Here you go: your [[Awesome|pissed off Khornate female Chaos Space Marine Champion.]]<br />
<br />
When Kroeger returned, he saw her in this attire. He was not pleased, of course, but little thing he could do. Before he can even touch her, she ripped off his head in a single blow. After that, she joined the final assault to the imperial stronghold against her former regiment as a proper Khornate. No one noted the difference. Only Forrix noted something, but were minor changes in fighting style. In the middle of the battle, Larana disappeared in a warp portal after killing a space marine librarian.<br />
<br />
[[-4 str|-4 str]]? Fuck that, she's Khornate, as [[Warriors of Chaos|Valkia]] shows in a daily basis.<br />
<br />
She returned some time after in Medrengard, when ex Ultrasmurf captain Uriel Ventris and his merry band of renegades were fucking the shit up in the fortress of Honsou, but only to return to her former self and hand the armour and the axe to their rightful owner: a [[Khorne|Bloodthirster]] chained in the core of the fortress, the called "Heart of Blood". After that she sacrificed herself with the remnants of her regiment (2 men), to cause critical damage to the fortress' structure and killing as many iron warriors as she could. Badass to the end, Larana showed that the [[Imperial Guard|standard-issue balls of steel]] and manliness are not male-only.<br />
<br />
==RAEG==<br />
<br />
RAGE is generated by the tactic in two distinct ways; either the neckbeard(s) assume that the creator of the work in question is unaware of the Space Marine fluff, and rage about his or her ignorance; failing that, it becomes clear that they are well aware of the fluff regarding these matters and willingly chose to disregard it, sending the poor neckbeards into fits of spastic rage that anyone would dare deliberately defile the sacrosanct canon of Games Workshop's masterpiece with the foul taint of cooties.<br />
<br />
[[troll|Still, the afromentioned creator will just ignore him.]]<br />
<br />
==A slightly more reasonable answer==<br />
<br />
The problem really is one of terminology. Women can wear power armour, certainly. Women can, through steroids, incessant bodybuilding, high protein diet, and a little genetic modding, be as buff and rocking as a space marine. But what really makes a space marine a space marine is all of the extra genetically-engineered organs and DNA and whatnot cloned from the Primarchs and implanted in the right way. With a little Fabius Bile magic, there's some vague possibility that you could put that stuff into a woman, but if its Fabius Bile doing it then its kinda more likely that he'd make you a dude with titties and a weird demon vagina than an actual female space marine. Because he's a swell guy like that. And even if he did make you a female space marine for reals, she still wouldn't be a space marine, just a weird, mutilated, chaos infused thing that approximates a space marine but can never truely be one.<br />
<br />
Worth noting, however, that given that Bile's experimented on damn-near everything (including the entire civilian populations of several planets) at some point or another for his attempts to duplicate the methods for creating new space marines, there's ample evidence to suggest that [[/d/|he's tried it at least once]]. Fucking [[Slaanesh]].<br />
<br />
There is a logical answer to that problem that is very mathematical in essence. Let's admit women and men are no different as to combat skill ( Which, because of culture, hormones and whatnot, is already taking away a disadvantage from women ). The only difference is thus physical, with women being, '''on average''', weaker : This means there are women stronger than men, there are even some stronger than '''most''' men, but odds are very high that the strongest individual in any given population will be a man.<br />
<br />
Now that's a lot of "likely", "odds" and "on average", but let's face it :<br />
<br />
- Worlds will numbers '''billions''' of individuals, '''untold billions''', meaning average is law ( Law of large numbers and everything ).<br />
<br />
- With the Imperium's propensity to make its planets ( Especially those Chapters recruit from ) '''shitholes''' constantly assaulted by raiders, xenos, and its own dangerous fauna and climate, we can, without much risk, say one thing : Women are still the only part of the human race that can give birth to children, and thus by eliminating the women with the best genes from the gene pool by turning them into asexual birth incapable Space Marines, the Imperium would commit suicide and the Emperor would bawl in dying Corpse-Throne tears of having destroyed the human race by trying to give it a beyond physical human means of defending itself. Women see plenty of fighting, as Guard, Sororitas, Inquisitors, Mechanicus, Knights, Ecclesiarchs, Rogue Traders, mercenaries, Pirates, Un/Sanctioned Psykers, Cultists, Arbites and so forth. The Imperium just can't destroy the gene pool without turning to cloning, which means relying on machines to bring forth the human form, which is HERESY.<br />
<br />
==Summary==<br />
<br />
For the most part, the neckbeards on /tg/ fear anything with two X chromosomes. For the most part, anyone who actually makes an army of female Space Marines does it to garner the most ire from the most diehard fans. Like playing a [[Tau]] army, it's all about drinking the rage-induced tears of sexually stunted men.<br />
<br />
<br />
Considering all the shenanigans involved in Space Marine transfusion, which involve complete overhaul of bone and muscle structure, turning the center of the chest into the carrier of the implanted geneseed that allowed for this alteration, and a form genital nullification of at the very least nerves and very probably sterilization and possibly castration/genetically modified urine excretory system, it is thus determined Space Marines, in their final form, do not actually have a gender per se due to their physiology, it’s just that so far, Games Workshop has referred to them as having been men prior to becoming Space Marines and their aren’t any Space Marines exhibiting female physique, though quite frankly, Space Marines don’t have a male physique, either. So, both the Female Space Marine Chapters and the use of Space Marines by Cultists of the Male Marine to justify male awesome sauce trumping female awesome sauce (there shouldn’t be a competition, it doesn’t matter) simply by being interpreted to fit male stereotypes, because they often do not vice versa, is unscientific and thus has no place in the 40k universe.<br />
<br />
However, that also does not exclude women from becoming Space Marines in theory. They just lose the female boobs and an effective uterus along the way, just both males and females lose any physical traits that deviate from the space marine build and are sterile. So, you can still field Space Marines who were male or female, just remember that, beyond their gender identification, they are effectively sterile asexual humanoids who can’t really be compared to either gender because they aren’t really human in the same sense. This has the added hilarity of being able to technically bring Female Space Marines using GW unmodified models with a Space Marine Army list to a tournament, and as long their name doesn’t suggest they are female, and you aren’t using Female Scouts (save that for outside the tournament) they can’t disqualify you, and the same goes for winning the Golden Demon.<br />
<br />
==See Also==<br />
<br />
*[[Golden Aquilas]]: /tg/ homebrew chapter, designed to cause as much RAEG and accusations of derp as possible.<br />
*[[Space Marines]]: Rule 63 equivalent of female space...Wait.<br />
*[[Sisters of Battle]]: the warrior nuns of the Imperium that typically are actually armed with bolters and chainswords and whom might be construed to some reasonable extent as being the 'female space marines' of Warhammer 40,000<br />
*[[Samus]]: How about a female Primarch?<br />
<br />
==Gallery==<br />
<br />
<center><gallery><br />
Image:Sisters of anger2.png|And if you think this is bad, once a month they all gain Frenzy.<br />
Image:1227373581722.gif|Lol. Why u mad though?<br />
Image:Nidsrape.jpg|Brother-sister Igpay Atinlay boldly distracts the Tyranid foe.<br />
Image:spessbitch.jpg|Not in fact [[Horo]].<br />
File:Female_warhammer_40k_imperium_model_--_100D0212.jpg|She'd be even scarier if she took off that mask<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Gabs.jpg|DYKE OUTTA FUCKING NOWHERE!<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Jayne.jpg|Your eyes should start bleeding right about now.<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_--_Ingunna_Daughter_of_Russ_by_Greymark.jpg|PMS BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!<br />
File:1k heresy.jpg|<s>Not</s> [[Just as planned]]. and now you know why Tzeentch doesn't invite Slaanesh to his birthday parties anymore. [[Just as planned]]<br />
File:Primarchs as teen girls.png| The Emperor made the Primarchs to be the greatest human warriors of all time, but [[Warhammer_High|even they were not immune]] to [[Rule 63]].<br />
File:Femprah_by_Mr-Culexus.jpg|She was not amused by this development.<br />
File:Saber ultra marine.jpg|Don't piss off Mama Smurf. Trust me your genitals will not survive. Shouldn't she be with the dark angels?<br />
File:Chaos saber.jpg|Somehow still less of a failure than the real Abaddon.<br />
</gallery></center><br />
<br />
[[Category:Imperial]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Female_Space_Marines&diff=211644Female Space Marines2014-07-13T07:53:02Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Summary */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{Promotions}}<br />
{{heresy}}<br />
[[Image:beakiegal.jpg|thumb|right|Guaranteed to garner at least 100 replies.]]<br />
<br />
There is no tactic more effective for [[RAGE|enraging]] a die-hard [[Space Marines|SPESS MEHREENS]] fanboy than discussing/drawing their [[Rule 63]] companion, '''Female Space Marines'''. Not to be confused with [[Sisters of Battle]], the canonical equivalent to Space Marines and also armed with bolters and chainswords, but ''Space Marine'' Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes, you know, the hypermuscular ones with [[Pauldrons]]. According to [[Games Workshop]] [[canon]], the procedures that are used to create a Space Marine only work properly on male subjects, rendering female Marines impossible; however, masturbators on the internet have not allowed this to deter them. Sometimes it is pointed out that back in the [[Rogue Trader]] days, Games Workshop did briefly produce two power-armoured female models, but they were changed to "Female Adventurers in Power Armour" and were never meant to represent female Marines. Considering this is from Games Workshop, who routinely [[Rape|violates]] [[Squats|their own canon in subsequent editions]], fanbase be damned, take this as you will.<br />
<br />
It's worth noting, though, that Games Workshop hasn't deterred /tg/ (or indeed, the [[Black Library]] writers) from coming up with ways to potentially allow for them, even with Space Marines being exclusively male being one of the rare things they've kept consistent. This is because, as was brought up in [[Daemonette|previous]] [[Monstergirls|articles]], little gets between a man and his fapbait.<br />
<br />
==The canon part==<br />
<br />
According to [[fluff]], the Space Marine process only works on males because "the zygotes are keyed to male hormones and tissue types" ([[God-Emperor of Mankind|and presumably also Big Boss' superior dominant genes]]). This essentially just means the process was designed with males in mind, and won't work on females because actually figuring out how technology works and using it to make other kinds of technology isn't how the Imperium rolls anymore.<br />
<br />
Additionally, they're descended from the Primarchs, who were meant to be the sons of the Emperor, who was a bloke. Which is a fucking weak reason to not have female space marines, as obviously a father can have sons AND daughters. Furthermore, if GW wanted, they could have written the setting with the gene-seed working on women as well, but they didn't. Nobody knows why, though ''theories'' abound ranging from things such as status quo (simply GW's dislike of change) to sexism (thinking having female space marines will ruin an "M for Manly" image GW wants for them).<br />
<br />
From an in-universe standpoint, it was mentioned in one of the Horus Heresy books that [[Malcador the Sigillite]] had suggested making one or two of the Primarchs female, half-jokingly saying that it might help to defuse competition between them. The Emperor was not amused by this at all and insisted that it simply couldn't be done. (And really, who wants to try to argue with him about it?)<br />
<br />
In canon terms, the closest female equivalent to a Space Marine would be the [[Sisters of Battle]], although they're not exactly as powerful as a marine and lack the gene-seed modifications and superhuman abilities that a Space Marine possesses.<br />
<br />
==But if we're being pedantic...==<br />
<br />
If we're being pedantic, Space Marines aren't male humans, they're post-human beings built using the bodies of human males. A male Astartes is not the same as a male human. Strictly speaking, they aren't male Astartes because the post-human race does not have a relevant sexual function (probably; Games Workshop has never really bothered detailing it).<br />
<br />
But that doesn't stop [[Black Library|stylish]] [[C.S.Goto|multimasturbators]] for looking for pseudo-scientific reason to indulge both their muscle girl fetishes and fondness for sci-fi toys. There is a certain intersex condition that allows a genetically male individual to be born as a hormonal female. It is called "Complete Androgene Insensitivity Syndrome" (CAIS). A person that is born with CAIS has XY Chromosomes, therefore they are genetically males. But since their cells are insensitive to androgenes they are born with female features, and develop as females. Such girls have testes in place of ovaries, therefore they produce testosterone instead of estrogen. <br />
<br />
So according to above statements it is theoretically possible to have -4 str Marines, if not in a way that would actually happen in-universe, and in a way that technically means they're male anyway. (This ignores the fact that Astartes are based on their Primarchs, on none of them are described as having CAIS. Meh, details.)<br />
<br />
Of course if we really ARE then the majority of human psykers around should be female, as most of the males are being used up to make Grey Knights (it takes a million to make one Knight), yet they're not.<br />
<br />
Another thing is that with the current view points of having more Gender balance in the storyline and the Space Marines are more or less the main characters its really only a matter of time before GW's retcons things, or even if they keep the Emperor design the gene-seed to work on men only. Its possible that somewhere down the line some Tech-priest was messing around the gene-seed to fix some errors and removed whatever it is that prevents the gene-seed form working on woman.<br />
<br />
==What would a female Space Marine look like?==<br />
[[File:Silver Skull.jpg|right|thumb|Tina likes long walks on the beach and slaying the Emperor's foes.]]<br />
Obviously, in the land of Rule 63 they are amazingly hot (and would totally do you), but in dark and gritty fluff-land where they would be optimised for combat rather than jacking off, they would probably have almost no recognisably female features left following surgery and genetic fuckery; they'd have the same big, bulky figures as males, further made unrecognisable by thick plate armour. A female Space Marine with her helmet on would look like a regular Space Marine.<br />
<br />
[[skub|This means all Space Marines with their helmets on might be female ''right now'' and you wouldn't even know.]]<br />
<br />
[[rage|FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUU-]]<br />
<br />
==[[Sindri|SSSSSIIIIIINNNNNNDDDDRRRRRRIIIII!!]]==<br />
<br />
Unexpected salvation - there are indeed (99.46% possible) Female Space Marines!...in The [[Eye Of Terror]]. Well out of it too - see, due to the nature of [[Chaos]], mutations are often a fact of life. Some desired, some not. What if one hulked out, burning, warped Chaos Space Marine secretly wishes he was the cute little girl who got flowers? Who smiled with joy? Who was so sweet?<br />
<br />
What if his gods are listening? If the nature of Chaos is what it is to any extent, there is a chance his deity will bestow him with what he has always wanted. Though of course, he could just as easily get an extra tentacle arm, or get mutated into [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]] - such is the nature of Chaos. [[Slaanesh]] especially grants this as a matter of routine, and its a safe bet to make that quite a lot of the [[Emperor's Children]] men are actually now women, or rather hermaphs. Such is the will of Slaanesh.<br />
<br />
This was ''confirmed'' in one of the earlier Chapter Approved articles - one that re-introduced mounted [[Daemonette]]s - in which a Governer-Militant fighting a Slaanesh warband mused that there were (apparently female) creatures that [[Heresy|were once Space Marines, but no longer]]. Considering Chaos can cause [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]], is anyone surprised by this?<br />
<br />
A more recent one comes form the Warzone Danmos which mentions refugee's of Danmos has produced a few Sons and Daughters that have become Ultramarines (in fact one full scout squad) while you could say the girls just joined their serfs, it also mentions they fought when the Ultramarines reclaimed the world which is something serfs don't do (unless you're an Excoriator serf). And yes the Adults who joined the Ultramar PDF to help aren't the same.<br />
<br />
So yes, Smurfs might have them.<br />
<br />
==[[Honsou]], You Sick Fuck==<br />
<br />
We know that you among the fans, despite all our attempts to dissaude you, want cute FEMALE SPHESS MAHREENS! And there is good news - technically, there ARE Female Space Marines IN OFFICIAL LORE. The catch? Yes there is a catch. And this one is the worst.<br />
<br />
Your FSM is a bloated, twisted, undying, insane, mutated pregnant mother-slave only alive because she's in the Eye of Terror.<br />
<br />
You see, [[Honsou]] of the [[Iron Warriors]], in an effort to squeeze new MAHREENS into the ranks without having to pay that other sick fuck [[Fabius Bile]] for clones, created a system of hideousness and sadness that pushes [[grimdark]] to a whole new level. He invented the [[Daemonculaba]], a system whereby a woman is chained and fed stuff which will morph her and her womb into something that was never meant to be. A boy is then (yes, a child), jammed, shoved or cut INTO the vagina and stays there for a while. When his time is ready, he, now XBAWKS HUEG and STRONG, will have to [[rip and tear|rip, tear]], or otherwise push his way out of his adoptive mother's womb/vagina. When he emerges, he will either be a fleshless mutant abomination, or will emerge as a fleshless, fully functional Chaos Space Marine in a fraction of the time, with all his growth stages and bionics and gene-seed already taken care of. How? [[Meme|It's fucking science]].<br />
<br />
This goes back to our Female Space Marine - you see, while she was being morphed and changed, [[Dark Mechanicus]] Biologos hereteks worked on her body, implanting gene-seed and making her physically a Female Space Marine, even if the form is rather off. Thus, her womb can turn children as well into Space Marines by having her womb 'grow' the required orgrans and stages directly into their bodies in a fraction of the time, days and weeks instead of years. Thankfully for the entire universe, this horror was destroyed before Honsou realized he could stick girls in there as well, and get double the recruits, and stumble upon the secret to true Female Space Marines.<br />
<br />
==WAIT A SECOND!==<br />
[[Image:NotSoFast.PNG|center]]<br />
<br />
Now we're talking about Honsou, there WAS another case of CANON FEMALE SPACE MARINE (sort of). Yea, I'm serious. Not a [[Daemonculaba|bloated and twisted parody of the birthing]], but a full fledged female space marine (without the organs and gene-seed, so more like a Sister of Battle but daemon-possessed and with bigger armor, but no one is perfect). The "bad" thing is it was briefly... a [[Awesome|Khornate Aspiring Champion]].<br />
<br />
Let's start the story. Just before [[Honsou|Honsou]] become the badass Warsmith he is now, he was a captain in the very warband he would lead afterwards. He was not alone, of course. There were two other in there: a bored (and boring) terminator champion called Forrix and a badass Khornate champion called Kroeger. In the assault to Hydra Cordatus (ya know, the one Honsou seized control over the warband), this Kroeger took Captain Larana Utorian, an Imperial Guardswoman, as a slave. Initially only to polish his armor and maintain his weapons, but I do not disagree with the idea of he used her to [[Slaanesh|polish other things or maintain his "sword".]]<br />
<br />
Anyway, Larana one day she started to hear voices coming from the armor and sword. Not strange, if we take the point that it were daemon equipment. The Daemon said that it has grown tired of Kroeger's petty slaughtering and wanted a new master. With the flow of the days and the war, the chick finally succumbed to the voices and wore the armor herself. Don't know how, but the daemons modified Larana's body to fit in the armor. Here you go: your [[Awesome|pissed off Khornate female Chaos Space Marine Champion.]]<br />
<br />
When Kroeger returned, he saw her in this attire. He was not pleased, of course, but little thing he could do. Before he can even touch her, she ripped off his head in a single blow. After that, she joined the final assault to the imperial stronghold against her former regiment as a proper Khornate. No one noted the difference. Only Forrix noted something, but were minor changes in fighting style. In the middle of the battle, Larana disappeared in a warp portal after killing a space marine librarian.<br />
<br />
[[-4 str|-4 str]]? Fuck that, she's Khornate, as [[Warriors of Chaos|Valkia]] shows in a daily basis.<br />
<br />
She returned some time after in Medrengard, when ex Ultrasmurf captain Uriel Ventris and his merry band of renegades were fucking the shit up in the fortress of Honsou, but only to return to her former self and hand the armour and the axe to their rightful owner: a [[Khorne|Bloodthirster]] chained in the core of the fortress, the called "Heart of Blood". After that she sacrificed herself with the remnants of her regiment (2 men), to cause critical damage to the fortress' structure and killing as many iron warriors as she could. Badass to the end, Larana showed that the [[Imperial Guard|standard-issue balls of steel]] and manliness are not male-only.<br />
<br />
==RAEG==<br />
<br />
RAGE is generated by the tactic in two distinct ways; either the neckbeard(s) assume that the creator of the work in question is unaware of the Space Marine fluff, and rage about his or her ignorance; failing that, it becomes clear that they are well aware of the fluff regarding these matters and willingly chose to disregard it, sending the poor neckbeards into fits of spastic rage that anyone would dare deliberately defile the sacrosanct canon of Games Workshop's masterpiece with the foul taint of cooties.<br />
<br />
[[troll|Still, the afromentioned creator will just ignore him.]]<br />
<br />
==A slightly more reasonable answer==<br />
<br />
The problem really is one of terminology. Women can wear power armour, certainly. Women can, through steroids, incessant bodybuilding, high protein diet, and a little genetic modding, be as buff and rocking as a space marine. But what really makes a space marine a space marine is all of the extra genetically-engineered organs and DNA and whatnot cloned from the Primarchs and implanted in the right way. With a little Fabius Bile magic, there's some vague possibility that you could put that stuff into a woman, but if its Fabius Bile doing it then its kinda more likely that he'd make you a dude with titties and a weird demon vagina than an actual female space marine. Because he's a swell guy like that. And even if he did make you a female space marine for reals, she still wouldn't be a space marine, just a weird, mutilated, chaos infused thing that approximates a space marine but can never truely be one.<br />
<br />
Worth noting, however, that given that Bile's experimented on damn-near everything (including the entire civilian populations of several planets) at some point or another for his attempts to duplicate the methods for creating new space marines, there's ample evidence to suggest that [[/d/|he's tried it at least once]]. Fucking [[Slaanesh]].<br />
<br />
There is a logical answer to that problem that is very mathematical in essence. Let's admit women and men are no different as to combat skill ( Which, because of culture, hormones and whatnot, is already taking away a disadvantage from women ). The only difference is thus physical, with women being, '''on average''', weaker : This means there are women stronger than men, there are even some stronger than '''most''' men, but odds are very high that the strongest individual in any given population will be a man.<br />
<br />
Now that's a lot of "likely", "odds" and "on average", but let's face it :<br />
<br />
- Worlds will numbers '''billions''' of individuals, '''untold billions''', meaning average is law ( Law of large numbers and everything ).<br />
<br />
- With the Imperium's propensity to make its planets ( Especially those Chapters recruit from ) '''shitholes''' constantly assaulted by raiders, xenos, and its own dangerous fauna and climate, we can, without much risk, say one thing : Women are still the only part of the human race that can give birth to children, and thus by eliminating the women with the best genes from the gene pool by turning them into asexual birth incapable Space Marines, the Imperium would commit suicide and the Emperor would bawl in dying Corpse-Throne tears of having destroyed the human race by trying to give it a beyond physical human means of defending itself. Women see plenty of fighting, as Guard, Sororitas, Inquisitors, Mechanicus, Knights, Ecclesiarchs, Rogue Traders, mercenaries, Pirates, Un/Sanctioned Psykers, Cultists, Arbites and so forth. The Imperium just can't destroy the gene pool without turning to cloning, which means relying on machines to bring forth the human form, which is HERESY.<br />
<br />
==Summary==<br />
<br />
For the most part, the neckbeards on /tg/ fear anything with two X chromosomes. For the most part, anyone who actually makes an army of female Space Marines does it to garner the most ire from the most diehard fans. Like playing a [[Tau]] army, it's all about drinking the rage-induced tears of sexually stunted men.<br />
<br />
<br />
Considering all the shenanigans involved in Space Marine transfusion, which involve complete overhaul of bone and muscle structure, turning the center of the chest into the carrier of the implanted geneseed that allowed for this alteration, and a form genital nullification of at the very least nerves and very probably sterilization and possibly castration/genetically modified urine excretory system, it is thus determined Space Marines, in their final form, do not actually have a gender per se due to their physiology, it’s just that so far, Games Workshop has referred to them as having been men prior to becoming Space Marines and their aren’t any Space Marines exhibiting female physique, though quite frankly, Space Marines don’t have a male physique, either. So, both the Female Space Marine Chapters and the use of Space Marines by Cultists of the Male Marine to justify male awesome sauce trumping female awesome sauce (there shouldn’t be a competition, it doesn’t matter) simply by being interpreted to fit male stereotypes, because they often do not vice versa, is unscientific and thus has no place in the 40k universe.<br />
However, that also does not exclude women from becoming Space Marines in theory. They just lose the female boobs and an effective uterus along the way, jus both males and females lose any physical traits that deviate from the space marine build and are sterile. So, you can still field Space Marines who were male or female, just remember that, beyond their gender identification, they are effectively sterile asexual humanoids who can’t really be compared to either gender because they aren’t really human in the same sense. This has the added hilarity of being able to technically bring Female Space Marines using GW unmodified models with a Space Marine Army list to a tournament, and as long their name doesn’t suggest they are female, and you aren’t using Female Scouts (save that for outside the tournament) they can’t disqualify you, and the same goes for winning the Golden Demon.<br />
<br />
==See Also==<br />
<br />
*[[Golden Aquilas]]: /tg/ homebrew chapter, designed to cause as much RAEG and accusations of derp as possible.<br />
*[[Space Marines]]: Rule 63 equivalent of female space...Wait.<br />
*[[Sisters of Battle]]: the warrior nuns of the Imperium that typically are actually armed with bolters and chainswords and whom might be construed to some reasonable extent as being the 'female space marines' of Warhammer 40,000<br />
*[[Samus]]: How about a female Primarch?<br />
<br />
==Gallery==<br />
<br />
<center><gallery><br />
Image:Sisters of anger2.png|And if you think this is bad, once a month they all gain Frenzy.<br />
Image:1227373581722.gif|Lol. Why u mad though?<br />
Image:Nidsrape.jpg|Brother-sister Igpay Atinlay boldly distracts the Tyranid foe.<br />
Image:spessbitch.jpg|Not in fact [[Horo]].<br />
File:Female_warhammer_40k_imperium_model_--_100D0212.jpg|She'd be even scarier if she took off that mask<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Gabs.jpg|DYKE OUTTA FUCKING NOWHERE!<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Jayne.jpg|Your eyes should start bleeding right about now.<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_--_Ingunna_Daughter_of_Russ_by_Greymark.jpg|PMS BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!<br />
File:1k heresy.jpg|<s>Not</s> [[Just as planned]]. and now you know why Tzeentch doesn't invite Slaanesh to his birthday parties anymore. [[Just as planned]]<br />
File:Primarchs as teen girls.png| The Emperor made the Primarchs to be the greatest human warriors of all time, but [[Warhammer_High|even they were not immune]] to [[Rule 63]].<br />
File:Femprah_by_Mr-Culexus.jpg|She was not amused by this development.<br />
File:Saber ultra marine.jpg|Don't piss off Mama Smurf. Trust me your genitals will not survive. Shouldn't she be with the dark angels?<br />
File:Chaos saber.jpg|Somehow still less of a failure than the real Abaddon.<br />
</gallery></center><br />
<br />
[[Category:Imperial]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Female_Space_Marines&diff=211643Female Space Marines2014-07-13T07:51:06Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* A slightly more reasonable answer */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{Promotions}}<br />
{{heresy}}<br />
[[Image:beakiegal.jpg|thumb|right|Guaranteed to garner at least 100 replies.]]<br />
<br />
There is no tactic more effective for [[RAGE|enraging]] a die-hard [[Space Marines|SPESS MEHREENS]] fanboy than discussing/drawing their [[Rule 63]] companion, '''Female Space Marines'''. Not to be confused with [[Sisters of Battle]], the canonical equivalent to Space Marines and also armed with bolters and chainswords, but ''Space Marine'' Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes, you know, the hypermuscular ones with [[Pauldrons]]. According to [[Games Workshop]] [[canon]], the procedures that are used to create a Space Marine only work properly on male subjects, rendering female Marines impossible; however, masturbators on the internet have not allowed this to deter them. Sometimes it is pointed out that back in the [[Rogue Trader]] days, Games Workshop did briefly produce two power-armoured female models, but they were changed to "Female Adventurers in Power Armour" and were never meant to represent female Marines. Considering this is from Games Workshop, who routinely [[Rape|violates]] [[Squats|their own canon in subsequent editions]], fanbase be damned, take this as you will.<br />
<br />
It's worth noting, though, that Games Workshop hasn't deterred /tg/ (or indeed, the [[Black Library]] writers) from coming up with ways to potentially allow for them, even with Space Marines being exclusively male being one of the rare things they've kept consistent. This is because, as was brought up in [[Daemonette|previous]] [[Monstergirls|articles]], little gets between a man and his fapbait.<br />
<br />
==The canon part==<br />
<br />
According to [[fluff]], the Space Marine process only works on males because "the zygotes are keyed to male hormones and tissue types" ([[God-Emperor of Mankind|and presumably also Big Boss' superior dominant genes]]). This essentially just means the process was designed with males in mind, and won't work on females because actually figuring out how technology works and using it to make other kinds of technology isn't how the Imperium rolls anymore.<br />
<br />
Additionally, they're descended from the Primarchs, who were meant to be the sons of the Emperor, who was a bloke. Which is a fucking weak reason to not have female space marines, as obviously a father can have sons AND daughters. Furthermore, if GW wanted, they could have written the setting with the gene-seed working on women as well, but they didn't. Nobody knows why, though ''theories'' abound ranging from things such as status quo (simply GW's dislike of change) to sexism (thinking having female space marines will ruin an "M for Manly" image GW wants for them).<br />
<br />
From an in-universe standpoint, it was mentioned in one of the Horus Heresy books that [[Malcador the Sigillite]] had suggested making one or two of the Primarchs female, half-jokingly saying that it might help to defuse competition between them. The Emperor was not amused by this at all and insisted that it simply couldn't be done. (And really, who wants to try to argue with him about it?)<br />
<br />
In canon terms, the closest female equivalent to a Space Marine would be the [[Sisters of Battle]], although they're not exactly as powerful as a marine and lack the gene-seed modifications and superhuman abilities that a Space Marine possesses.<br />
<br />
==But if we're being pedantic...==<br />
<br />
If we're being pedantic, Space Marines aren't male humans, they're post-human beings built using the bodies of human males. A male Astartes is not the same as a male human. Strictly speaking, they aren't male Astartes because the post-human race does not have a relevant sexual function (probably; Games Workshop has never really bothered detailing it).<br />
<br />
But that doesn't stop [[Black Library|stylish]] [[C.S.Goto|multimasturbators]] for looking for pseudo-scientific reason to indulge both their muscle girl fetishes and fondness for sci-fi toys. There is a certain intersex condition that allows a genetically male individual to be born as a hormonal female. It is called "Complete Androgene Insensitivity Syndrome" (CAIS). A person that is born with CAIS has XY Chromosomes, therefore they are genetically males. But since their cells are insensitive to androgenes they are born with female features, and develop as females. Such girls have testes in place of ovaries, therefore they produce testosterone instead of estrogen. <br />
<br />
So according to above statements it is theoretically possible to have -4 str Marines, if not in a way that would actually happen in-universe, and in a way that technically means they're male anyway. (This ignores the fact that Astartes are based on their Primarchs, on none of them are described as having CAIS. Meh, details.)<br />
<br />
Of course if we really ARE then the majority of human psykers around should be female, as most of the males are being used up to make Grey Knights (it takes a million to make one Knight), yet they're not.<br />
<br />
Another thing is that with the current view points of having more Gender balance in the storyline and the Space Marines are more or less the main characters its really only a matter of time before GW's retcons things, or even if they keep the Emperor design the gene-seed to work on men only. Its possible that somewhere down the line some Tech-priest was messing around the gene-seed to fix some errors and removed whatever it is that prevents the gene-seed form working on woman.<br />
<br />
==What would a female Space Marine look like?==<br />
[[File:Silver Skull.jpg|right|thumb|Tina likes long walks on the beach and slaying the Emperor's foes.]]<br />
Obviously, in the land of Rule 63 they are amazingly hot (and would totally do you), but in dark and gritty fluff-land where they would be optimised for combat rather than jacking off, they would probably have almost no recognisably female features left following surgery and genetic fuckery; they'd have the same big, bulky figures as males, further made unrecognisable by thick plate armour. A female Space Marine with her helmet on would look like a regular Space Marine.<br />
<br />
[[skub|This means all Space Marines with their helmets on might be female ''right now'' and you wouldn't even know.]]<br />
<br />
[[rage|FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUU-]]<br />
<br />
==[[Sindri|SSSSSIIIIIINNNNNNDDDDRRRRRRIIIII!!]]==<br />
<br />
Unexpected salvation - there are indeed (99.46% possible) Female Space Marines!...in The [[Eye Of Terror]]. Well out of it too - see, due to the nature of [[Chaos]], mutations are often a fact of life. Some desired, some not. What if one hulked out, burning, warped Chaos Space Marine secretly wishes he was the cute little girl who got flowers? Who smiled with joy? Who was so sweet?<br />
<br />
What if his gods are listening? If the nature of Chaos is what it is to any extent, there is a chance his deity will bestow him with what he has always wanted. Though of course, he could just as easily get an extra tentacle arm, or get mutated into [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]] - such is the nature of Chaos. [[Slaanesh]] especially grants this as a matter of routine, and its a safe bet to make that quite a lot of the [[Emperor's Children]] men are actually now women, or rather hermaphs. Such is the will of Slaanesh.<br />
<br />
This was ''confirmed'' in one of the earlier Chapter Approved articles - one that re-introduced mounted [[Daemonette]]s - in which a Governer-Militant fighting a Slaanesh warband mused that there were (apparently female) creatures that [[Heresy|were once Space Marines, but no longer]]. Considering Chaos can cause [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]], is anyone surprised by this?<br />
<br />
A more recent one comes form the Warzone Danmos which mentions refugee's of Danmos has produced a few Sons and Daughters that have become Ultramarines (in fact one full scout squad) while you could say the girls just joined their serfs, it also mentions they fought when the Ultramarines reclaimed the world which is something serfs don't do (unless you're an Excoriator serf). And yes the Adults who joined the Ultramar PDF to help aren't the same.<br />
<br />
So yes, Smurfs might have them.<br />
<br />
==[[Honsou]], You Sick Fuck==<br />
<br />
We know that you among the fans, despite all our attempts to dissaude you, want cute FEMALE SPHESS MAHREENS! And there is good news - technically, there ARE Female Space Marines IN OFFICIAL LORE. The catch? Yes there is a catch. And this one is the worst.<br />
<br />
Your FSM is a bloated, twisted, undying, insane, mutated pregnant mother-slave only alive because she's in the Eye of Terror.<br />
<br />
You see, [[Honsou]] of the [[Iron Warriors]], in an effort to squeeze new MAHREENS into the ranks without having to pay that other sick fuck [[Fabius Bile]] for clones, created a system of hideousness and sadness that pushes [[grimdark]] to a whole new level. He invented the [[Daemonculaba]], a system whereby a woman is chained and fed stuff which will morph her and her womb into something that was never meant to be. A boy is then (yes, a child), jammed, shoved or cut INTO the vagina and stays there for a while. When his time is ready, he, now XBAWKS HUEG and STRONG, will have to [[rip and tear|rip, tear]], or otherwise push his way out of his adoptive mother's womb/vagina. When he emerges, he will either be a fleshless mutant abomination, or will emerge as a fleshless, fully functional Chaos Space Marine in a fraction of the time, with all his growth stages and bionics and gene-seed already taken care of. How? [[Meme|It's fucking science]].<br />
<br />
This goes back to our Female Space Marine - you see, while she was being morphed and changed, [[Dark Mechanicus]] Biologos hereteks worked on her body, implanting gene-seed and making her physically a Female Space Marine, even if the form is rather off. Thus, her womb can turn children as well into Space Marines by having her womb 'grow' the required orgrans and stages directly into their bodies in a fraction of the time, days and weeks instead of years. Thankfully for the entire universe, this horror was destroyed before Honsou realized he could stick girls in there as well, and get double the recruits, and stumble upon the secret to true Female Space Marines.<br />
<br />
==WAIT A SECOND!==<br />
[[Image:NotSoFast.PNG|center]]<br />
<br />
Now we're talking about Honsou, there WAS another case of CANON FEMALE SPACE MARINE (sort of). Yea, I'm serious. Not a [[Daemonculaba|bloated and twisted parody of the birthing]], but a full fledged female space marine (without the organs and gene-seed, so more like a Sister of Battle but daemon-possessed and with bigger armor, but no one is perfect). The "bad" thing is it was briefly... a [[Awesome|Khornate Aspiring Champion]].<br />
<br />
Let's start the story. Just before [[Honsou|Honsou]] become the badass Warsmith he is now, he was a captain in the very warband he would lead afterwards. He was not alone, of course. There were two other in there: a bored (and boring) terminator champion called Forrix and a badass Khornate champion called Kroeger. In the assault to Hydra Cordatus (ya know, the one Honsou seized control over the warband), this Kroeger took Captain Larana Utorian, an Imperial Guardswoman, as a slave. Initially only to polish his armor and maintain his weapons, but I do not disagree with the idea of he used her to [[Slaanesh|polish other things or maintain his "sword".]]<br />
<br />
Anyway, Larana one day she started to hear voices coming from the armor and sword. Not strange, if we take the point that it were daemon equipment. The Daemon said that it has grown tired of Kroeger's petty slaughtering and wanted a new master. With the flow of the days and the war, the chick finally succumbed to the voices and wore the armor herself. Don't know how, but the daemons modified Larana's body to fit in the armor. Here you go: your [[Awesome|pissed off Khornate female Chaos Space Marine Champion.]]<br />
<br />
When Kroeger returned, he saw her in this attire. He was not pleased, of course, but little thing he could do. Before he can even touch her, she ripped off his head in a single blow. After that, she joined the final assault to the imperial stronghold against her former regiment as a proper Khornate. No one noted the difference. Only Forrix noted something, but were minor changes in fighting style. In the middle of the battle, Larana disappeared in a warp portal after killing a space marine librarian.<br />
<br />
[[-4 str|-4 str]]? Fuck that, she's Khornate, as [[Warriors of Chaos|Valkia]] shows in a daily basis.<br />
<br />
She returned some time after in Medrengard, when ex Ultrasmurf captain Uriel Ventris and his merry band of renegades were fucking the shit up in the fortress of Honsou, but only to return to her former self and hand the armour and the axe to their rightful owner: a [[Khorne|Bloodthirster]] chained in the core of the fortress, the called "Heart of Blood". After that she sacrificed herself with the remnants of her regiment (2 men), to cause critical damage to the fortress' structure and killing as many iron warriors as she could. Badass to the end, Larana showed that the [[Imperial Guard|standard-issue balls of steel]] and manliness are not male-only.<br />
<br />
==RAEG==<br />
<br />
RAGE is generated by the tactic in two distinct ways; either the neckbeard(s) assume that the creator of the work in question is unaware of the Space Marine fluff, and rage about his or her ignorance; failing that, it becomes clear that they are well aware of the fluff regarding these matters and willingly chose to disregard it, sending the poor neckbeards into fits of spastic rage that anyone would dare deliberately defile the sacrosanct canon of Games Workshop's masterpiece with the foul taint of cooties.<br />
<br />
[[troll|Still, the afromentioned creator will just ignore him.]]<br />
<br />
==A slightly more reasonable answer==<br />
<br />
The problem really is one of terminology. Women can wear power armour, certainly. Women can, through steroids, incessant bodybuilding, high protein diet, and a little genetic modding, be as buff and rocking as a space marine. But what really makes a space marine a space marine is all of the extra genetically-engineered organs and DNA and whatnot cloned from the Primarchs and implanted in the right way. With a little Fabius Bile magic, there's some vague possibility that you could put that stuff into a woman, but if its Fabius Bile doing it then its kinda more likely that he'd make you a dude with titties and a weird demon vagina than an actual female space marine. Because he's a swell guy like that. And even if he did make you a female space marine for reals, she still wouldn't be a space marine, just a weird, mutilated, chaos infused thing that approximates a space marine but can never truely be one.<br />
<br />
Worth noting, however, that given that Bile's experimented on damn-near everything (including the entire civilian populations of several planets) at some point or another for his attempts to duplicate the methods for creating new space marines, there's ample evidence to suggest that [[/d/|he's tried it at least once]]. Fucking [[Slaanesh]].<br />
<br />
There is a logical answer to that problem that is very mathematical in essence. Let's admit women and men are no different as to combat skill ( Which, because of culture, hormones and whatnot, is already taking away a disadvantage from women ). The only difference is thus physical, with women being, '''on average''', weaker : This means there are women stronger than men, there are even some stronger than '''most''' men, but odds are very high that the strongest individual in any given population will be a man.<br />
<br />
Now that's a lot of "likely", "odds" and "on average", but let's face it :<br />
<br />
- Worlds will numbers '''billions''' of individuals, '''untold billions''', meaning average is law ( Law of large numbers and everything ).<br />
<br />
- With the Imperium's propensity to make its planets ( Especially those Chapters recruit from ) '''shitholes''' constantly assaulted by raiders, xenos, and its own dangerous fauna and climate, we can, without much risk, say one thing : Women are still the only part of the human race that can give birth to children, and thus by eliminating the women with the best genes from the gene pool by turning them into asexual birth incapable Space Marines, the Imperium would commit suicide and the Emperor would bawl in dying Corpse-Throne tears of having destroyed the human race by trying to give it a beyond physical human means of defending itself. Women see plenty of fighting, as Guard, Sororitas, Inquisitors, Mechanicus, Knights, Ecclesiarchs, Rogue Traders, mercenaries, Pirates, Un/Sanctioned Psykers, Cultists, Arbites and so forth. The Imperium just can't destroy the gene pool without turning to cloning, which means relying on machines to bring forth the human form, which is HERESY.<br />
<br />
==Summary==<br />
<br />
For the most part, the neckbeards on /tg/ fear anything with two X chromosomes. For the most part, anyone who actually makes an army of female Space Marines does it to garner the most ire from the most diehard fans. Like playing a [[Tau]] army, it's all about drinking the rage-induced tears of sexually stunted men.<br />
<br />
<br />
Considering all the shenanigans involved in Space Marine transfusion, which involve complete overhaul of bone and muscle structure, turning the center of the chest into the carrier of the implanted geneseed that allowed for this alteration, and a form genital nullification of at the very least nerves and very probably sterilization and possibly castration/genetically modified urine excretory system, it is thus determined Space Marines, in their final form, do not actually have a gender per se due to their physiology, it’s just that so far, Games Workshop has referred to them as having been men prior to becoming Space Marines and their aren’t any Space Marines exhibiting female physique, though quite frankly, Space Marines don’t have a male physique, either. So, both the Female Space Marine Chapters and the use of Space Marines by Cultists of the Male Marine to justify male awesome sauce trumping female awesome sauce (there shouldn’t be a competition, it doesn’t matter) simply by being interpreted to fit male stereotypes, because they often do not vice versa, is unscientific and thus, unless you are an Ork, has no place in the 40k universe.<br />
However, that also does not exclude women from becoming Space Marines in theory. They just lose the female boobs and an effective uterus along the way, jus both males and females lose any physical traits that deviate from the space marine build and are sterile. So, you can still field Space Marines who were male or female, just remember that, beyond their gender identification, they are effectively sterile asexual humanoids who can’t really be compared to either gender because they aren’t really human in the same sense. This has the added hilarity of being able to technically bring Female Space Marines using GW unmodified models with a Space Marine Army list to a tournament, and as long their name doesn’t suggest they are female, and you aren’t using Female Scouts (save that for outside the tournament) they can’t disqualify you, and the same goes for winning the Golden Demon.<br />
<br />
==See Also==<br />
<br />
*[[Golden Aquilas]]: /tg/ homebrew chapter, designed to cause as much RAEG and accusations of derp as possible.<br />
*[[Space Marines]]: Rule 63 equivalent of female space...Wait.<br />
*[[Sisters of Battle]]: the warrior nuns of the Imperium that typically are actually armed with bolters and chainswords and whom might be construed to some reasonable extent as being the 'female space marines' of Warhammer 40,000<br />
*[[Samus]]: How about a female Primarch?<br />
<br />
==Gallery==<br />
<br />
<center><gallery><br />
Image:Sisters of anger2.png|And if you think this is bad, once a month they all gain Frenzy.<br />
Image:1227373581722.gif|Lol. Why u mad though?<br />
Image:Nidsrape.jpg|Brother-sister Igpay Atinlay boldly distracts the Tyranid foe.<br />
Image:spessbitch.jpg|Not in fact [[Horo]].<br />
File:Female_warhammer_40k_imperium_model_--_100D0212.jpg|She'd be even scarier if she took off that mask<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Gabs.jpg|DYKE OUTTA FUCKING NOWHERE!<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Jayne.jpg|Your eyes should start bleeding right about now.<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_--_Ingunna_Daughter_of_Russ_by_Greymark.jpg|PMS BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!<br />
File:1k heresy.jpg|<s>Not</s> [[Just as planned]]. and now you know why Tzeentch doesn't invite Slaanesh to his birthday parties anymore. [[Just as planned]]<br />
File:Primarchs as teen girls.png| The Emperor made the Primarchs to be the greatest human warriors of all time, but [[Warhammer_High|even they were not immune]] to [[Rule 63]].<br />
File:Femprah_by_Mr-Culexus.jpg|She was not amused by this development.<br />
File:Saber ultra marine.jpg|Don't piss off Mama Smurf. Trust me your genitals will not survive. Shouldn't she be with the dark angels?<br />
File:Chaos saber.jpg|Somehow still less of a failure than the real Abaddon.<br />
</gallery></center><br />
<br />
[[Category:Imperial]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Female_Space_Marines&diff=211642Female Space Marines2014-07-13T07:49:21Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Summary */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{Promotions}}<br />
{{heresy}}<br />
[[Image:beakiegal.jpg|thumb|right|Guaranteed to garner at least 100 replies.]]<br />
<br />
There is no tactic more effective for [[RAGE|enraging]] a die-hard [[Space Marines|SPESS MEHREENS]] fanboy than discussing/drawing their [[Rule 63]] companion, '''Female Space Marines'''. Not to be confused with [[Sisters of Battle]], the canonical equivalent to Space Marines and also armed with bolters and chainswords, but ''Space Marine'' Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes, you know, the hypermuscular ones with [[Pauldrons]]. According to [[Games Workshop]] [[canon]], the procedures that are used to create a Space Marine only work properly on male subjects, rendering female Marines impossible; however, masturbators on the internet have not allowed this to deter them. Sometimes it is pointed out that back in the [[Rogue Trader]] days, Games Workshop did briefly produce two power-armoured female models, but they were changed to "Female Adventurers in Power Armour" and were never meant to represent female Marines. Considering this is from Games Workshop, who routinely [[Rape|violates]] [[Squats|their own canon in subsequent editions]], fanbase be damned, take this as you will.<br />
<br />
It's worth noting, though, that Games Workshop hasn't deterred /tg/ (or indeed, the [[Black Library]] writers) from coming up with ways to potentially allow for them, even with Space Marines being exclusively male being one of the rare things they've kept consistent. This is because, as was brought up in [[Daemonette|previous]] [[Monstergirls|articles]], little gets between a man and his fapbait.<br />
<br />
==The canon part==<br />
<br />
According to [[fluff]], the Space Marine process only works on males because "the zygotes are keyed to male hormones and tissue types" ([[God-Emperor of Mankind|and presumably also Big Boss' superior dominant genes]]). This essentially just means the process was designed with males in mind, and won't work on females because actually figuring out how technology works and using it to make other kinds of technology isn't how the Imperium rolls anymore.<br />
<br />
Additionally, they're descended from the Primarchs, who were meant to be the sons of the Emperor, who was a bloke. Which is a fucking weak reason to not have female space marines, as obviously a father can have sons AND daughters. Furthermore, if GW wanted, they could have written the setting with the gene-seed working on women as well, but they didn't. Nobody knows why, though ''theories'' abound ranging from things such as status quo (simply GW's dislike of change) to sexism (thinking having female space marines will ruin an "M for Manly" image GW wants for them).<br />
<br />
From an in-universe standpoint, it was mentioned in one of the Horus Heresy books that [[Malcador the Sigillite]] had suggested making one or two of the Primarchs female, half-jokingly saying that it might help to defuse competition between them. The Emperor was not amused by this at all and insisted that it simply couldn't be done. (And really, who wants to try to argue with him about it?)<br />
<br />
In canon terms, the closest female equivalent to a Space Marine would be the [[Sisters of Battle]], although they're not exactly as powerful as a marine and lack the gene-seed modifications and superhuman abilities that a Space Marine possesses.<br />
<br />
==But if we're being pedantic...==<br />
<br />
If we're being pedantic, Space Marines aren't male humans, they're post-human beings built using the bodies of human males. A male Astartes is not the same as a male human. Strictly speaking, they aren't male Astartes because the post-human race does not have a relevant sexual function (probably; Games Workshop has never really bothered detailing it).<br />
<br />
But that doesn't stop [[Black Library|stylish]] [[C.S.Goto|multimasturbators]] for looking for pseudo-scientific reason to indulge both their muscle girl fetishes and fondness for sci-fi toys. There is a certain intersex condition that allows a genetically male individual to be born as a hormonal female. It is called "Complete Androgene Insensitivity Syndrome" (CAIS). A person that is born with CAIS has XY Chromosomes, therefore they are genetically males. But since their cells are insensitive to androgenes they are born with female features, and develop as females. Such girls have testes in place of ovaries, therefore they produce testosterone instead of estrogen. <br />
<br />
So according to above statements it is theoretically possible to have -4 str Marines, if not in a way that would actually happen in-universe, and in a way that technically means they're male anyway. (This ignores the fact that Astartes are based on their Primarchs, on none of them are described as having CAIS. Meh, details.)<br />
<br />
Of course if we really ARE then the majority of human psykers around should be female, as most of the males are being used up to make Grey Knights (it takes a million to make one Knight), yet they're not.<br />
<br />
Another thing is that with the current view points of having more Gender balance in the storyline and the Space Marines are more or less the main characters its really only a matter of time before GW's retcons things, or even if they keep the Emperor design the gene-seed to work on men only. Its possible that somewhere down the line some Tech-priest was messing around the gene-seed to fix some errors and removed whatever it is that prevents the gene-seed form working on woman.<br />
<br />
==What would a female Space Marine look like?==<br />
[[File:Silver Skull.jpg|right|thumb|Tina likes long walks on the beach and slaying the Emperor's foes.]]<br />
Obviously, in the land of Rule 63 they are amazingly hot (and would totally do you), but in dark and gritty fluff-land where they would be optimised for combat rather than jacking off, they would probably have almost no recognisably female features left following surgery and genetic fuckery; they'd have the same big, bulky figures as males, further made unrecognisable by thick plate armour. A female Space Marine with her helmet on would look like a regular Space Marine.<br />
<br />
[[skub|This means all Space Marines with their helmets on might be female ''right now'' and you wouldn't even know.]]<br />
<br />
[[rage|FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUU-]]<br />
<br />
==[[Sindri|SSSSSIIIIIINNNNNNDDDDRRRRRRIIIII!!]]==<br />
<br />
Unexpected salvation - there are indeed (99.46% possible) Female Space Marines!...in The [[Eye Of Terror]]. Well out of it too - see, due to the nature of [[Chaos]], mutations are often a fact of life. Some desired, some not. What if one hulked out, burning, warped Chaos Space Marine secretly wishes he was the cute little girl who got flowers? Who smiled with joy? Who was so sweet?<br />
<br />
What if his gods are listening? If the nature of Chaos is what it is to any extent, there is a chance his deity will bestow him with what he has always wanted. Though of course, he could just as easily get an extra tentacle arm, or get mutated into [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]] - such is the nature of Chaos. [[Slaanesh]] especially grants this as a matter of routine, and its a safe bet to make that quite a lot of the [[Emperor's Children]] men are actually now women, or rather hermaphs. Such is the will of Slaanesh.<br />
<br />
This was ''confirmed'' in one of the earlier Chapter Approved articles - one that re-introduced mounted [[Daemonette]]s - in which a Governer-Militant fighting a Slaanesh warband mused that there were (apparently female) creatures that [[Heresy|were once Space Marines, but no longer]]. Considering Chaos can cause [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]], is anyone surprised by this?<br />
<br />
A more recent one comes form the Warzone Danmos which mentions refugee's of Danmos has produced a few Sons and Daughters that have become Ultramarines (in fact one full scout squad) while you could say the girls just joined their serfs, it also mentions they fought when the Ultramarines reclaimed the world which is something serfs don't do (unless you're an Excoriator serf). And yes the Adults who joined the Ultramar PDF to help aren't the same.<br />
<br />
So yes, Smurfs might have them.<br />
<br />
==[[Honsou]], You Sick Fuck==<br />
<br />
We know that you among the fans, despite all our attempts to dissaude you, want cute FEMALE SPHESS MAHREENS! And there is good news - technically, there ARE Female Space Marines IN OFFICIAL LORE. The catch? Yes there is a catch. And this one is the worst.<br />
<br />
Your FSM is a bloated, twisted, undying, insane, mutated pregnant mother-slave only alive because she's in the Eye of Terror.<br />
<br />
You see, [[Honsou]] of the [[Iron Warriors]], in an effort to squeeze new MAHREENS into the ranks without having to pay that other sick fuck [[Fabius Bile]] for clones, created a system of hideousness and sadness that pushes [[grimdark]] to a whole new level. He invented the [[Daemonculaba]], a system whereby a woman is chained and fed stuff which will morph her and her womb into something that was never meant to be. A boy is then (yes, a child), jammed, shoved or cut INTO the vagina and stays there for a while. When his time is ready, he, now XBAWKS HUEG and STRONG, will have to [[rip and tear|rip, tear]], or otherwise push his way out of his adoptive mother's womb/vagina. When he emerges, he will either be a fleshless mutant abomination, or will emerge as a fleshless, fully functional Chaos Space Marine in a fraction of the time, with all his growth stages and bionics and gene-seed already taken care of. How? [[Meme|It's fucking science]].<br />
<br />
This goes back to our Female Space Marine - you see, while she was being morphed and changed, [[Dark Mechanicus]] Biologos hereteks worked on her body, implanting gene-seed and making her physically a Female Space Marine, even if the form is rather off. Thus, her womb can turn children as well into Space Marines by having her womb 'grow' the required orgrans and stages directly into their bodies in a fraction of the time, days and weeks instead of years. Thankfully for the entire universe, this horror was destroyed before Honsou realized he could stick girls in there as well, and get double the recruits, and stumble upon the secret to true Female Space Marines.<br />
<br />
==WAIT A SECOND!==<br />
[[Image:NotSoFast.PNG|center]]<br />
<br />
Now we're talking about Honsou, there WAS another case of CANON FEMALE SPACE MARINE (sort of). Yea, I'm serious. Not a [[Daemonculaba|bloated and twisted parody of the birthing]], but a full fledged female space marine (without the organs and gene-seed, so more like a Sister of Battle but daemon-possessed and with bigger armor, but no one is perfect). The "bad" thing is it was briefly... a [[Awesome|Khornate Aspiring Champion]].<br />
<br />
Let's start the story. Just before [[Honsou|Honsou]] become the badass Warsmith he is now, he was a captain in the very warband he would lead afterwards. He was not alone, of course. There were two other in there: a bored (and boring) terminator champion called Forrix and a badass Khornate champion called Kroeger. In the assault to Hydra Cordatus (ya know, the one Honsou seized control over the warband), this Kroeger took Captain Larana Utorian, an Imperial Guardswoman, as a slave. Initially only to polish his armor and maintain his weapons, but I do not disagree with the idea of he used her to [[Slaanesh|polish other things or maintain his "sword".]]<br />
<br />
Anyway, Larana one day she started to hear voices coming from the armor and sword. Not strange, if we take the point that it were daemon equipment. The Daemon said that it has grown tired of Kroeger's petty slaughtering and wanted a new master. With the flow of the days and the war, the chick finally succumbed to the voices and wore the armor herself. Don't know how, but the daemons modified Larana's body to fit in the armor. Here you go: your [[Awesome|pissed off Khornate female Chaos Space Marine Champion.]]<br />
<br />
When Kroeger returned, he saw her in this attire. He was not pleased, of course, but little thing he could do. Before he can even touch her, she ripped off his head in a single blow. After that, she joined the final assault to the imperial stronghold against her former regiment as a proper Khornate. No one noted the difference. Only Forrix noted something, but were minor changes in fighting style. In the middle of the battle, Larana disappeared in a warp portal after killing a space marine librarian.<br />
<br />
[[-4 str|-4 str]]? Fuck that, she's Khornate, as [[Warriors of Chaos|Valkia]] shows in a daily basis.<br />
<br />
She returned some time after in Medrengard, when ex Ultrasmurf captain Uriel Ventris and his merry band of renegades were fucking the shit up in the fortress of Honsou, but only to return to her former self and hand the armour and the axe to their rightful owner: a [[Khorne|Bloodthirster]] chained in the core of the fortress, the called "Heart of Blood". After that she sacrificed herself with the remnants of her regiment (2 men), to cause critical damage to the fortress' structure and killing as many iron warriors as she could. Badass to the end, Larana showed that the [[Imperial Guard|standard-issue balls of steel]] and manliness are not male-only.<br />
<br />
==RAEG==<br />
<br />
RAGE is generated by the tactic in two distinct ways; either the neckbeard(s) assume that the creator of the work in question is unaware of the Space Marine fluff, and rage about his or her ignorance; failing that, it becomes clear that they are well aware of the fluff regarding these matters and willingly chose to disregard it, sending the poor neckbeards into fits of spastic rage that anyone would dare deliberately defile the sacrosanct canon of Games Workshop's masterpiece with the foul taint of cooties.<br />
<br />
[[troll|Still, the afromentioned creator will just ignore him.]]<br />
<br />
==A slightly more reasonable answer==<br />
<br />
The problem really is one of terminology. Women can wear power armour, certainly. Women can, through steroids, incessant bodybuilding, high protein diet, and a little genetic modding, be as buff and rocking as a space marine. But what really makes a space marine a space marine is all of the extra genetically-engineered organs and DNA and whatnot cloned from the Primarchs and implanted in the right way. With a little Fabius Bile magic, there's some vague possibility that you could put that stuff into a woman, but if its Fabius Bile doing it then its kinda more likely that he'd make you a dude with titties and a weird demon vagina than an actual female space marine. Because he's a swell guy like that. And even if he did make you a female space marine for reals, she still wouldn't be a space marine, just a weird, mutilated, chaos infused thing that approximates a space marine but can never truely be one.<br />
<br />
Worth noting, however, that given that Bile's experimented on damn-near everything (including the entire civilian populations of several planets) at some point or another for his attempts to duplicate the methods for creating new space marines, there's ample evidence to suggest that [[/d/|he's tried it at least once]]. Fucking [[Slaanesh]].<br />
<br />
There is a logical answer to that problem that is very mathematical in essence. Let's admit women and men are no different as to combat skill ( Which, because of culture, hormones and whatnot, is already taking away a disadvantage from women ). The only difference is thus physical, with women being, '''on average''', weaker : This means there are women stronger than men, there are even some stronger than '''most''' men, but odds are very high that the strongest individual in any given population will be a man.<br />
<br />
Now that's a lot of "likely", "odds" and "on average", but let's face it :<br />
<br />
- Worlds will numbers '''billions''' of individuals, '''untold billions''', meaning average is law ( Law of large numbers and everything ).<br />
<br />
- With the Imperium's propensity to make its planets ( Especially those Chapters recruit from ) '''shitholes''' constantly assaulted by raiders, xenos, and its own dangerous fauna and climate, we can, without much risk, say one thing : Women are still the only part of the human race that can give birth to children, and thus by eliminating the women with the best genes from the gene pool by turning them into asexual birth incapable Space Marines, the Imperium would commit suicide and the Emperor would bawl in dying Corpse-Throne tears of having destroyed the human race by trying to defend it. Women see plenty of fighting, as Guard, Sororitas, Inquisitors, Mechanicus, Knights, Ecclesiarchs, Rogue Traders, mercenaries, Pirates, Un/Sanctioned Psykers, Cultists, Arbites and so forth. The Imperium just can't destroy the gene pool without turning to cloning, which means relying on machines to bring forth the human form, which is HERESY.<br />
<br />
==Summary==<br />
<br />
For the most part, the neckbeards on /tg/ fear anything with two X chromosomes. For the most part, anyone who actually makes an army of female Space Marines does it to garner the most ire from the most diehard fans. Like playing a [[Tau]] army, it's all about drinking the rage-induced tears of sexually stunted men.<br />
<br />
<br />
Considering all the shenanigans involved in Space Marine transfusion, which involve complete overhaul of bone and muscle structure, turning the center of the chest into the carrier of the implanted geneseed that allowed for this alteration, and a form genital nullification of at the very least nerves and very probably sterilization and possibly castration/genetically modified urine excretory system, it is thus determined Space Marines, in their final form, do not actually have a gender per se due to their physiology, it’s just that so far, Games Workshop has referred to them as having been men prior to becoming Space Marines and their aren’t any Space Marines exhibiting female physique, though quite frankly, Space Marines don’t have a male physique, either. So, both the Female Space Marine Chapters and the use of Space Marines by Cultists of the Male Marine to justify male awesome sauce trumping female awesome sauce (there shouldn’t be a competition, it doesn’t matter) simply by being interpreted to fit male stereotypes, because they often do not vice versa, is unscientific and thus, unless you are an Ork, has no place in the 40k universe.<br />
However, that also does not exclude women from becoming Space Marines in theory. They just lose the female boobs and an effective uterus along the way, jus both males and females lose any physical traits that deviate from the space marine build and are sterile. So, you can still field Space Marines who were male or female, just remember that, beyond their gender identification, they are effectively sterile asexual humanoids who can’t really be compared to either gender because they aren’t really human in the same sense. This has the added hilarity of being able to technically bring Female Space Marines using GW unmodified models with a Space Marine Army list to a tournament, and as long their name doesn’t suggest they are female, and you aren’t using Female Scouts (save that for outside the tournament) they can’t disqualify you, and the same goes for winning the Golden Demon.<br />
<br />
==See Also==<br />
<br />
*[[Golden Aquilas]]: /tg/ homebrew chapter, designed to cause as much RAEG and accusations of derp as possible.<br />
*[[Space Marines]]: Rule 63 equivalent of female space...Wait.<br />
*[[Sisters of Battle]]: the warrior nuns of the Imperium that typically are actually armed with bolters and chainswords and whom might be construed to some reasonable extent as being the 'female space marines' of Warhammer 40,000<br />
*[[Samus]]: How about a female Primarch?<br />
<br />
==Gallery==<br />
<br />
<center><gallery><br />
Image:Sisters of anger2.png|And if you think this is bad, once a month they all gain Frenzy.<br />
Image:1227373581722.gif|Lol. Why u mad though?<br />
Image:Nidsrape.jpg|Brother-sister Igpay Atinlay boldly distracts the Tyranid foe.<br />
Image:spessbitch.jpg|Not in fact [[Horo]].<br />
File:Female_warhammer_40k_imperium_model_--_100D0212.jpg|She'd be even scarier if she took off that mask<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Gabs.jpg|DYKE OUTTA FUCKING NOWHERE!<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Jayne.jpg|Your eyes should start bleeding right about now.<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_--_Ingunna_Daughter_of_Russ_by_Greymark.jpg|PMS BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!<br />
File:1k heresy.jpg|<s>Not</s> [[Just as planned]]. and now you know why Tzeentch doesn't invite Slaanesh to his birthday parties anymore. [[Just as planned]]<br />
File:Primarchs as teen girls.png| The Emperor made the Primarchs to be the greatest human warriors of all time, but [[Warhammer_High|even they were not immune]] to [[Rule 63]].<br />
File:Femprah_by_Mr-Culexus.jpg|She was not amused by this development.<br />
File:Saber ultra marine.jpg|Don't piss off Mama Smurf. Trust me your genitals will not survive. Shouldn't she be with the dark angels?<br />
File:Chaos saber.jpg|Somehow still less of a failure than the real Abaddon.<br />
</gallery></center><br />
<br />
[[Category:Imperial]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Female_Space_Marines&diff=211641Female Space Marines2014-07-13T07:47:09Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Summary */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{Promotions}}<br />
{{heresy}}<br />
[[Image:beakiegal.jpg|thumb|right|Guaranteed to garner at least 100 replies.]]<br />
<br />
There is no tactic more effective for [[RAGE|enraging]] a die-hard [[Space Marines|SPESS MEHREENS]] fanboy than discussing/drawing their [[Rule 63]] companion, '''Female Space Marines'''. Not to be confused with [[Sisters of Battle]], the canonical equivalent to Space Marines and also armed with bolters and chainswords, but ''Space Marine'' Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes, you know, the hypermuscular ones with [[Pauldrons]]. According to [[Games Workshop]] [[canon]], the procedures that are used to create a Space Marine only work properly on male subjects, rendering female Marines impossible; however, masturbators on the internet have not allowed this to deter them. Sometimes it is pointed out that back in the [[Rogue Trader]] days, Games Workshop did briefly produce two power-armoured female models, but they were changed to "Female Adventurers in Power Armour" and were never meant to represent female Marines. Considering this is from Games Workshop, who routinely [[Rape|violates]] [[Squats|their own canon in subsequent editions]], fanbase be damned, take this as you will.<br />
<br />
It's worth noting, though, that Games Workshop hasn't deterred /tg/ (or indeed, the [[Black Library]] writers) from coming up with ways to potentially allow for them, even with Space Marines being exclusively male being one of the rare things they've kept consistent. This is because, as was brought up in [[Daemonette|previous]] [[Monstergirls|articles]], little gets between a man and his fapbait.<br />
<br />
==The canon part==<br />
<br />
According to [[fluff]], the Space Marine process only works on males because "the zygotes are keyed to male hormones and tissue types" ([[God-Emperor of Mankind|and presumably also Big Boss' superior dominant genes]]). This essentially just means the process was designed with males in mind, and won't work on females because actually figuring out how technology works and using it to make other kinds of technology isn't how the Imperium rolls anymore.<br />
<br />
Additionally, they're descended from the Primarchs, who were meant to be the sons of the Emperor, who was a bloke. Which is a fucking weak reason to not have female space marines, as obviously a father can have sons AND daughters. Furthermore, if GW wanted, they could have written the setting with the gene-seed working on women as well, but they didn't. Nobody knows why, though ''theories'' abound ranging from things such as status quo (simply GW's dislike of change) to sexism (thinking having female space marines will ruin an "M for Manly" image GW wants for them).<br />
<br />
From an in-universe standpoint, it was mentioned in one of the Horus Heresy books that [[Malcador the Sigillite]] had suggested making one or two of the Primarchs female, half-jokingly saying that it might help to defuse competition between them. The Emperor was not amused by this at all and insisted that it simply couldn't be done. (And really, who wants to try to argue with him about it?)<br />
<br />
In canon terms, the closest female equivalent to a Space Marine would be the [[Sisters of Battle]], although they're not exactly as powerful as a marine and lack the gene-seed modifications and superhuman abilities that a Space Marine possesses.<br />
<br />
==But if we're being pedantic...==<br />
<br />
If we're being pedantic, Space Marines aren't male humans, they're post-human beings built using the bodies of human males. A male Astartes is not the same as a male human. Strictly speaking, they aren't male Astartes because the post-human race does not have a relevant sexual function (probably; Games Workshop has never really bothered detailing it).<br />
<br />
But that doesn't stop [[Black Library|stylish]] [[C.S.Goto|multimasturbators]] for looking for pseudo-scientific reason to indulge both their muscle girl fetishes and fondness for sci-fi toys. There is a certain intersex condition that allows a genetically male individual to be born as a hormonal female. It is called "Complete Androgene Insensitivity Syndrome" (CAIS). A person that is born with CAIS has XY Chromosomes, therefore they are genetically males. But since their cells are insensitive to androgenes they are born with female features, and develop as females. Such girls have testes in place of ovaries, therefore they produce testosterone instead of estrogen. <br />
<br />
So according to above statements it is theoretically possible to have -4 str Marines, if not in a way that would actually happen in-universe, and in a way that technically means they're male anyway. (This ignores the fact that Astartes are based on their Primarchs, on none of them are described as having CAIS. Meh, details.)<br />
<br />
Of course if we really ARE then the majority of human psykers around should be female, as most of the males are being used up to make Grey Knights (it takes a million to make one Knight), yet they're not.<br />
<br />
Another thing is that with the current view points of having more Gender balance in the storyline and the Space Marines are more or less the main characters its really only a matter of time before GW's retcons things, or even if they keep the Emperor design the gene-seed to work on men only. Its possible that somewhere down the line some Tech-priest was messing around the gene-seed to fix some errors and removed whatever it is that prevents the gene-seed form working on woman.<br />
<br />
==What would a female Space Marine look like?==<br />
[[File:Silver Skull.jpg|right|thumb|Tina likes long walks on the beach and slaying the Emperor's foes.]]<br />
Obviously, in the land of Rule 63 they are amazingly hot (and would totally do you), but in dark and gritty fluff-land where they would be optimised for combat rather than jacking off, they would probably have almost no recognisably female features left following surgery and genetic fuckery; they'd have the same big, bulky figures as males, further made unrecognisable by thick plate armour. A female Space Marine with her helmet on would look like a regular Space Marine.<br />
<br />
[[skub|This means all Space Marines with their helmets on might be female ''right now'' and you wouldn't even know.]]<br />
<br />
[[rage|FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUU-]]<br />
<br />
==[[Sindri|SSSSSIIIIIINNNNNNDDDDRRRRRRIIIII!!]]==<br />
<br />
Unexpected salvation - there are indeed (99.46% possible) Female Space Marines!...in The [[Eye Of Terror]]. Well out of it too - see, due to the nature of [[Chaos]], mutations are often a fact of life. Some desired, some not. What if one hulked out, burning, warped Chaos Space Marine secretly wishes he was the cute little girl who got flowers? Who smiled with joy? Who was so sweet?<br />
<br />
What if his gods are listening? If the nature of Chaos is what it is to any extent, there is a chance his deity will bestow him with what he has always wanted. Though of course, he could just as easily get an extra tentacle arm, or get mutated into [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]] - such is the nature of Chaos. [[Slaanesh]] especially grants this as a matter of routine, and its a safe bet to make that quite a lot of the [[Emperor's Children]] men are actually now women, or rather hermaphs. Such is the will of Slaanesh.<br />
<br />
This was ''confirmed'' in one of the earlier Chapter Approved articles - one that re-introduced mounted [[Daemonette]]s - in which a Governer-Militant fighting a Slaanesh warband mused that there were (apparently female) creatures that [[Heresy|were once Space Marines, but no longer]]. Considering Chaos can cause [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]], is anyone surprised by this?<br />
<br />
A more recent one comes form the Warzone Danmos which mentions refugee's of Danmos has produced a few Sons and Daughters that have become Ultramarines (in fact one full scout squad) while you could say the girls just joined their serfs, it also mentions they fought when the Ultramarines reclaimed the world which is something serfs don't do (unless you're an Excoriator serf). And yes the Adults who joined the Ultramar PDF to help aren't the same.<br />
<br />
So yes, Smurfs might have them.<br />
<br />
==[[Honsou]], You Sick Fuck==<br />
<br />
We know that you among the fans, despite all our attempts to dissaude you, want cute FEMALE SPHESS MAHREENS! And there is good news - technically, there ARE Female Space Marines IN OFFICIAL LORE. The catch? Yes there is a catch. And this one is the worst.<br />
<br />
Your FSM is a bloated, twisted, undying, insane, mutated pregnant mother-slave only alive because she's in the Eye of Terror.<br />
<br />
You see, [[Honsou]] of the [[Iron Warriors]], in an effort to squeeze new MAHREENS into the ranks without having to pay that other sick fuck [[Fabius Bile]] for clones, created a system of hideousness and sadness that pushes [[grimdark]] to a whole new level. He invented the [[Daemonculaba]], a system whereby a woman is chained and fed stuff which will morph her and her womb into something that was never meant to be. A boy is then (yes, a child), jammed, shoved or cut INTO the vagina and stays there for a while. When his time is ready, he, now XBAWKS HUEG and STRONG, will have to [[rip and tear|rip, tear]], or otherwise push his way out of his adoptive mother's womb/vagina. When he emerges, he will either be a fleshless mutant abomination, or will emerge as a fleshless, fully functional Chaos Space Marine in a fraction of the time, with all his growth stages and bionics and gene-seed already taken care of. How? [[Meme|It's fucking science]].<br />
<br />
This goes back to our Female Space Marine - you see, while she was being morphed and changed, [[Dark Mechanicus]] Biologos hereteks worked on her body, implanting gene-seed and making her physically a Female Space Marine, even if the form is rather off. Thus, her womb can turn children as well into Space Marines by having her womb 'grow' the required orgrans and stages directly into their bodies in a fraction of the time, days and weeks instead of years. Thankfully for the entire universe, this horror was destroyed before Honsou realized he could stick girls in there as well, and get double the recruits, and stumble upon the secret to true Female Space Marines.<br />
<br />
==WAIT A SECOND!==<br />
[[Image:NotSoFast.PNG|center]]<br />
<br />
Now we're talking about Honsou, there WAS another case of CANON FEMALE SPACE MARINE (sort of). Yea, I'm serious. Not a [[Daemonculaba|bloated and twisted parody of the birthing]], but a full fledged female space marine (without the organs and gene-seed, so more like a Sister of Battle but daemon-possessed and with bigger armor, but no one is perfect). The "bad" thing is it was briefly... a [[Awesome|Khornate Aspiring Champion]].<br />
<br />
Let's start the story. Just before [[Honsou|Honsou]] become the badass Warsmith he is now, he was a captain in the very warband he would lead afterwards. He was not alone, of course. There were two other in there: a bored (and boring) terminator champion called Forrix and a badass Khornate champion called Kroeger. In the assault to Hydra Cordatus (ya know, the one Honsou seized control over the warband), this Kroeger took Captain Larana Utorian, an Imperial Guardswoman, as a slave. Initially only to polish his armor and maintain his weapons, but I do not disagree with the idea of he used her to [[Slaanesh|polish other things or maintain his "sword".]]<br />
<br />
Anyway, Larana one day she started to hear voices coming from the armor and sword. Not strange, if we take the point that it were daemon equipment. The Daemon said that it has grown tired of Kroeger's petty slaughtering and wanted a new master. With the flow of the days and the war, the chick finally succumbed to the voices and wore the armor herself. Don't know how, but the daemons modified Larana's body to fit in the armor. Here you go: your [[Awesome|pissed off Khornate female Chaos Space Marine Champion.]]<br />
<br />
When Kroeger returned, he saw her in this attire. He was not pleased, of course, but little thing he could do. Before he can even touch her, she ripped off his head in a single blow. After that, she joined the final assault to the imperial stronghold against her former regiment as a proper Khornate. No one noted the difference. Only Forrix noted something, but were minor changes in fighting style. In the middle of the battle, Larana disappeared in a warp portal after killing a space marine librarian.<br />
<br />
[[-4 str|-4 str]]? Fuck that, she's Khornate, as [[Warriors of Chaos|Valkia]] shows in a daily basis.<br />
<br />
She returned some time after in Medrengard, when ex Ultrasmurf captain Uriel Ventris and his merry band of renegades were fucking the shit up in the fortress of Honsou, but only to return to her former self and hand the armour and the axe to their rightful owner: a [[Khorne|Bloodthirster]] chained in the core of the fortress, the called "Heart of Blood". After that she sacrificed herself with the remnants of her regiment (2 men), to cause critical damage to the fortress' structure and killing as many iron warriors as she could. Badass to the end, Larana showed that the [[Imperial Guard|standard-issue balls of steel]] and manliness are not male-only.<br />
<br />
==RAEG==<br />
<br />
RAGE is generated by the tactic in two distinct ways; either the neckbeard(s) assume that the creator of the work in question is unaware of the Space Marine fluff, and rage about his or her ignorance; failing that, it becomes clear that they are well aware of the fluff regarding these matters and willingly chose to disregard it, sending the poor neckbeards into fits of spastic rage that anyone would dare deliberately defile the sacrosanct canon of Games Workshop's masterpiece with the foul taint of cooties.<br />
<br />
[[troll|Still, the afromentioned creator will just ignore him.]]<br />
<br />
==A slightly more reasonable answer==<br />
<br />
The problem really is one of terminology. Women can wear power armour, certainly. Women can, through steroids, incessant bodybuilding, high protein diet, and a little genetic modding, be as buff and rocking as a space marine. But what really makes a space marine a space marine is all of the extra genetically-engineered organs and DNA and whatnot cloned from the Primarchs and implanted in the right way. With a little Fabius Bile magic, there's some vague possibility that you could put that stuff into a woman, but if its Fabius Bile doing it then its kinda more likely that he'd make you a dude with titties and a weird demon vagina than an actual female space marine. Because he's a swell guy like that. And even if he did make you a female space marine for reals, she still wouldn't be a space marine, just a weird, mutilated, chaos infused thing that approximates a space marine but can never truely be one.<br />
<br />
Worth noting, however, that given that Bile's experimented on damn-near everything (including the entire civilian populations of several planets) at some point or another for his attempts to duplicate the methods for creating new space marines, there's ample evidence to suggest that [[/d/|he's tried it at least once]]. Fucking [[Slaanesh]].<br />
<br />
There is a logical answer to that problem that is very mathematical in essence. Let's admit women and men are no different as to combat skill ( Which, because of culture, hormones and whatnot, is already taking away a disadvantage from women ). The only difference is thus physical, with women being, '''on average''', weaker : This means there are women stronger than men, there are even some stronger than '''most''' men, but odds are very high that the strongest individual in any given population will be a man.<br />
<br />
Now that's a lot of "likely", "odds" and "on average", but let's face it :<br />
<br />
- Worlds will numbers '''billions''' of individuals, '''untold billions''', meaning average is law ( Law of large numbers and everything ).<br />
<br />
- With the Imperium's propensity to make its planets ( Especially those Chapters recruit from ) '''shitholes''' constantly assaulted by raiders, xenos, and its own dangerous fauna and climate, we can, without much risk, say one thing : Women are still the only part of the human race that can give birth to children, and thus by eliminating the women with the best genes from the gene pool by turning them into asexual birth incapable Space Marines, the Imperium would commit suicide and the Emperor would bawl in dying Corpse-Throne tears of having destroyed the human race by trying to defend it. Women see plenty of fighting, as Guard, Sororitas, Inquisitors, Mechanicus, Knights, Ecclesiarchs, Rogue Traders, mercenaries, Pirates, Un/Sanctioned Psykers, Cultists, Arbites and so forth. The Imperium just can't destroy the gene pool without turning to cloning, which means relying on machines to bring forth the human form, which is HERESY.<br />
<br />
==Summary==<br />
<br />
For the most part, the neckbeards on /tg/ fear anything with two X chromosomes. For the most part, anyone who actually makes an army of female Space Marines does it to garner the most ire from the most diehard fans. Like playing a [[Tau]] army, it's all about drinking the rage-induced tears of sexually stunted men.<br />
<br />
<br />
Considering all the shenanigans involved in Space Marine transfusion, which involve complete overall haul of bone and muscle structure, turning the center of the chest into the carrier of the implanted geneseed that allowed for this alteration, and a form genital nullification of at the very least nerves and very probably sterilization and possibly castration/genetically modified urine excretory system, it is thus determined Space Marines, in their final form, do not actually have a gender per se due to their physiology, it’s just that so far, Games Workshop has referred to them as having been men prior to becoming Space Marines and their aren’t any Space Marines exhibiting female physique, though quite frankly, Space Marines don’t have a male physique, either. So, both the Female Space Marine Chapters and the use of Space Marines by Cultists of the Male Marine to justify male awesome sauce trumping female awesome sauce (there shouldn’t be a competition, it doesn’t matter) simply by being interpreted to fit male stereotypes, because they often do not vice versa, is unscientific and thus, unless you are an Ork, has no place in the 40k universe.<br />
However, that also does not exclude women from becoming Space Marines in theory. They just lose the female boobs and an effective uterus along the way, jus both males and females lose any physical traits that deviate from the space marine build and are sterile. So, you can still field Space Marines who were male or female, just remember that, beyond their gender identification, they are effectively sterile asexual humanoids who can’t really be compared to either gender because they aren’t really human in the same sense. This has the added hilarity of being able to technically bring Female Space Marines using GW unmodified models with a Space Marine Army list to a tournament, and as long their name doesn’t suggest they are female, and you aren’t using Female Scouts (save that for outside the tournament) they can’t disqualify you, and the same goes for winning the Golden Demon.<br />
<br />
==See Also==<br />
<br />
*[[Golden Aquilas]]: /tg/ homebrew chapter, designed to cause as much RAEG and accusations of derp as possible.<br />
*[[Space Marines]]: Rule 63 equivalent of female space...Wait.<br />
*[[Sisters of Battle]]: the warrior nuns of the Imperium that typically are actually armed with bolters and chainswords and whom might be construed to some reasonable extent as being the 'female space marines' of Warhammer 40,000<br />
*[[Samus]]: How about a female Primarch?<br />
<br />
==Gallery==<br />
<br />
<center><gallery><br />
Image:Sisters of anger2.png|And if you think this is bad, once a month they all gain Frenzy.<br />
Image:1227373581722.gif|Lol. Why u mad though?<br />
Image:Nidsrape.jpg|Brother-sister Igpay Atinlay boldly distracts the Tyranid foe.<br />
Image:spessbitch.jpg|Not in fact [[Horo]].<br />
File:Female_warhammer_40k_imperium_model_--_100D0212.jpg|She'd be even scarier if she took off that mask<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Gabs.jpg|DYKE OUTTA FUCKING NOWHERE!<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Jayne.jpg|Your eyes should start bleeding right about now.<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_--_Ingunna_Daughter_of_Russ_by_Greymark.jpg|PMS BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!<br />
File:1k heresy.jpg|<s>Not</s> [[Just as planned]]. and now you know why Tzeentch doesn't invite Slaanesh to his birthday parties anymore. [[Just as planned]]<br />
File:Primarchs as teen girls.png| The Emperor made the Primarchs to be the greatest human warriors of all time, but [[Warhammer_High|even they were not immune]] to [[Rule 63]].<br />
File:Femprah_by_Mr-Culexus.jpg|She was not amused by this development.<br />
File:Saber ultra marine.jpg|Don't piss off Mama Smurf. Trust me your genitals will not survive. Shouldn't she be with the dark angels?<br />
File:Chaos saber.jpg|Somehow still less of a failure than the real Abaddon.<br />
</gallery></center><br />
<br />
[[Category:Imperial]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Female_Space_Marines&diff=211640Female Space Marines2014-07-13T07:46:32Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* A slightly more reasonable answer */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{Promotions}}<br />
{{heresy}}<br />
[[Image:beakiegal.jpg|thumb|right|Guaranteed to garner at least 100 replies.]]<br />
<br />
There is no tactic more effective for [[RAGE|enraging]] a die-hard [[Space Marines|SPESS MEHREENS]] fanboy than discussing/drawing their [[Rule 63]] companion, '''Female Space Marines'''. Not to be confused with [[Sisters of Battle]], the canonical equivalent to Space Marines and also armed with bolters and chainswords, but ''Space Marine'' Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes, you know, the hypermuscular ones with [[Pauldrons]]. According to [[Games Workshop]] [[canon]], the procedures that are used to create a Space Marine only work properly on male subjects, rendering female Marines impossible; however, masturbators on the internet have not allowed this to deter them. Sometimes it is pointed out that back in the [[Rogue Trader]] days, Games Workshop did briefly produce two power-armoured female models, but they were changed to "Female Adventurers in Power Armour" and were never meant to represent female Marines. Considering this is from Games Workshop, who routinely [[Rape|violates]] [[Squats|their own canon in subsequent editions]], fanbase be damned, take this as you will.<br />
<br />
It's worth noting, though, that Games Workshop hasn't deterred /tg/ (or indeed, the [[Black Library]] writers) from coming up with ways to potentially allow for them, even with Space Marines being exclusively male being one of the rare things they've kept consistent. This is because, as was brought up in [[Daemonette|previous]] [[Monstergirls|articles]], little gets between a man and his fapbait.<br />
<br />
==The canon part==<br />
<br />
According to [[fluff]], the Space Marine process only works on males because "the zygotes are keyed to male hormones and tissue types" ([[God-Emperor of Mankind|and presumably also Big Boss' superior dominant genes]]). This essentially just means the process was designed with males in mind, and won't work on females because actually figuring out how technology works and using it to make other kinds of technology isn't how the Imperium rolls anymore.<br />
<br />
Additionally, they're descended from the Primarchs, who were meant to be the sons of the Emperor, who was a bloke. Which is a fucking weak reason to not have female space marines, as obviously a father can have sons AND daughters. Furthermore, if GW wanted, they could have written the setting with the gene-seed working on women as well, but they didn't. Nobody knows why, though ''theories'' abound ranging from things such as status quo (simply GW's dislike of change) to sexism (thinking having female space marines will ruin an "M for Manly" image GW wants for them).<br />
<br />
From an in-universe standpoint, it was mentioned in one of the Horus Heresy books that [[Malcador the Sigillite]] had suggested making one or two of the Primarchs female, half-jokingly saying that it might help to defuse competition between them. The Emperor was not amused by this at all and insisted that it simply couldn't be done. (And really, who wants to try to argue with him about it?)<br />
<br />
In canon terms, the closest female equivalent to a Space Marine would be the [[Sisters of Battle]], although they're not exactly as powerful as a marine and lack the gene-seed modifications and superhuman abilities that a Space Marine possesses.<br />
<br />
==But if we're being pedantic...==<br />
<br />
If we're being pedantic, Space Marines aren't male humans, they're post-human beings built using the bodies of human males. A male Astartes is not the same as a male human. Strictly speaking, they aren't male Astartes because the post-human race does not have a relevant sexual function (probably; Games Workshop has never really bothered detailing it).<br />
<br />
But that doesn't stop [[Black Library|stylish]] [[C.S.Goto|multimasturbators]] for looking for pseudo-scientific reason to indulge both their muscle girl fetishes and fondness for sci-fi toys. There is a certain intersex condition that allows a genetically male individual to be born as a hormonal female. It is called "Complete Androgene Insensitivity Syndrome" (CAIS). A person that is born with CAIS has XY Chromosomes, therefore they are genetically males. But since their cells are insensitive to androgenes they are born with female features, and develop as females. Such girls have testes in place of ovaries, therefore they produce testosterone instead of estrogen. <br />
<br />
So according to above statements it is theoretically possible to have -4 str Marines, if not in a way that would actually happen in-universe, and in a way that technically means they're male anyway. (This ignores the fact that Astartes are based on their Primarchs, on none of them are described as having CAIS. Meh, details.)<br />
<br />
Of course if we really ARE then the majority of human psykers around should be female, as most of the males are being used up to make Grey Knights (it takes a million to make one Knight), yet they're not.<br />
<br />
Another thing is that with the current view points of having more Gender balance in the storyline and the Space Marines are more or less the main characters its really only a matter of time before GW's retcons things, or even if they keep the Emperor design the gene-seed to work on men only. Its possible that somewhere down the line some Tech-priest was messing around the gene-seed to fix some errors and removed whatever it is that prevents the gene-seed form working on woman.<br />
<br />
==What would a female Space Marine look like?==<br />
[[File:Silver Skull.jpg|right|thumb|Tina likes long walks on the beach and slaying the Emperor's foes.]]<br />
Obviously, in the land of Rule 63 they are amazingly hot (and would totally do you), but in dark and gritty fluff-land where they would be optimised for combat rather than jacking off, they would probably have almost no recognisably female features left following surgery and genetic fuckery; they'd have the same big, bulky figures as males, further made unrecognisable by thick plate armour. A female Space Marine with her helmet on would look like a regular Space Marine.<br />
<br />
[[skub|This means all Space Marines with their helmets on might be female ''right now'' and you wouldn't even know.]]<br />
<br />
[[rage|FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUU-]]<br />
<br />
==[[Sindri|SSSSSIIIIIINNNNNNDDDDRRRRRRIIIII!!]]==<br />
<br />
Unexpected salvation - there are indeed (99.46% possible) Female Space Marines!...in The [[Eye Of Terror]]. Well out of it too - see, due to the nature of [[Chaos]], mutations are often a fact of life. Some desired, some not. What if one hulked out, burning, warped Chaos Space Marine secretly wishes he was the cute little girl who got flowers? Who smiled with joy? Who was so sweet?<br />
<br />
What if his gods are listening? If the nature of Chaos is what it is to any extent, there is a chance his deity will bestow him with what he has always wanted. Though of course, he could just as easily get an extra tentacle arm, or get mutated into [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]] - such is the nature of Chaos. [[Slaanesh]] especially grants this as a matter of routine, and its a safe bet to make that quite a lot of the [[Emperor's Children]] men are actually now women, or rather hermaphs. Such is the will of Slaanesh.<br />
<br />
This was ''confirmed'' in one of the earlier Chapter Approved articles - one that re-introduced mounted [[Daemonette]]s - in which a Governer-Militant fighting a Slaanesh warband mused that there were (apparently female) creatures that [[Heresy|were once Space Marines, but no longer]]. Considering Chaos can cause [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]], is anyone surprised by this?<br />
<br />
A more recent one comes form the Warzone Danmos which mentions refugee's of Danmos has produced a few Sons and Daughters that have become Ultramarines (in fact one full scout squad) while you could say the girls just joined their serfs, it also mentions they fought when the Ultramarines reclaimed the world which is something serfs don't do (unless you're an Excoriator serf). And yes the Adults who joined the Ultramar PDF to help aren't the same.<br />
<br />
So yes, Smurfs might have them.<br />
<br />
==[[Honsou]], You Sick Fuck==<br />
<br />
We know that you among the fans, despite all our attempts to dissaude you, want cute FEMALE SPHESS MAHREENS! And there is good news - technically, there ARE Female Space Marines IN OFFICIAL LORE. The catch? Yes there is a catch. And this one is the worst.<br />
<br />
Your FSM is a bloated, twisted, undying, insane, mutated pregnant mother-slave only alive because she's in the Eye of Terror.<br />
<br />
You see, [[Honsou]] of the [[Iron Warriors]], in an effort to squeeze new MAHREENS into the ranks without having to pay that other sick fuck [[Fabius Bile]] for clones, created a system of hideousness and sadness that pushes [[grimdark]] to a whole new level. He invented the [[Daemonculaba]], a system whereby a woman is chained and fed stuff which will morph her and her womb into something that was never meant to be. A boy is then (yes, a child), jammed, shoved or cut INTO the vagina and stays there for a while. When his time is ready, he, now XBAWKS HUEG and STRONG, will have to [[rip and tear|rip, tear]], or otherwise push his way out of his adoptive mother's womb/vagina. When he emerges, he will either be a fleshless mutant abomination, or will emerge as a fleshless, fully functional Chaos Space Marine in a fraction of the time, with all his growth stages and bionics and gene-seed already taken care of. How? [[Meme|It's fucking science]].<br />
<br />
This goes back to our Female Space Marine - you see, while she was being morphed and changed, [[Dark Mechanicus]] Biologos hereteks worked on her body, implanting gene-seed and making her physically a Female Space Marine, even if the form is rather off. Thus, her womb can turn children as well into Space Marines by having her womb 'grow' the required orgrans and stages directly into their bodies in a fraction of the time, days and weeks instead of years. Thankfully for the entire universe, this horror was destroyed before Honsou realized he could stick girls in there as well, and get double the recruits, and stumble upon the secret to true Female Space Marines.<br />
<br />
==WAIT A SECOND!==<br />
[[Image:NotSoFast.PNG|center]]<br />
<br />
Now we're talking about Honsou, there WAS another case of CANON FEMALE SPACE MARINE (sort of). Yea, I'm serious. Not a [[Daemonculaba|bloated and twisted parody of the birthing]], but a full fledged female space marine (without the organs and gene-seed, so more like a Sister of Battle but daemon-possessed and with bigger armor, but no one is perfect). The "bad" thing is it was briefly... a [[Awesome|Khornate Aspiring Champion]].<br />
<br />
Let's start the story. Just before [[Honsou|Honsou]] become the badass Warsmith he is now, he was a captain in the very warband he would lead afterwards. He was not alone, of course. There were two other in there: a bored (and boring) terminator champion called Forrix and a badass Khornate champion called Kroeger. In the assault to Hydra Cordatus (ya know, the one Honsou seized control over the warband), this Kroeger took Captain Larana Utorian, an Imperial Guardswoman, as a slave. Initially only to polish his armor and maintain his weapons, but I do not disagree with the idea of he used her to [[Slaanesh|polish other things or maintain his "sword".]]<br />
<br />
Anyway, Larana one day she started to hear voices coming from the armor and sword. Not strange, if we take the point that it were daemon equipment. The Daemon said that it has grown tired of Kroeger's petty slaughtering and wanted a new master. With the flow of the days and the war, the chick finally succumbed to the voices and wore the armor herself. Don't know how, but the daemons modified Larana's body to fit in the armor. Here you go: your [[Awesome|pissed off Khornate female Chaos Space Marine Champion.]]<br />
<br />
When Kroeger returned, he saw her in this attire. He was not pleased, of course, but little thing he could do. Before he can even touch her, she ripped off his head in a single blow. After that, she joined the final assault to the imperial stronghold against her former regiment as a proper Khornate. No one noted the difference. Only Forrix noted something, but were minor changes in fighting style. In the middle of the battle, Larana disappeared in a warp portal after killing a space marine librarian.<br />
<br />
[[-4 str|-4 str]]? Fuck that, she's Khornate, as [[Warriors of Chaos|Valkia]] shows in a daily basis.<br />
<br />
She returned some time after in Medrengard, when ex Ultrasmurf captain Uriel Ventris and his merry band of renegades were fucking the shit up in the fortress of Honsou, but only to return to her former self and hand the armour and the axe to their rightful owner: a [[Khorne|Bloodthirster]] chained in the core of the fortress, the called "Heart of Blood". After that she sacrificed herself with the remnants of her regiment (2 men), to cause critical damage to the fortress' structure and killing as many iron warriors as she could. Badass to the end, Larana showed that the [[Imperial Guard|standard-issue balls of steel]] and manliness are not male-only.<br />
<br />
==RAEG==<br />
<br />
RAGE is generated by the tactic in two distinct ways; either the neckbeard(s) assume that the creator of the work in question is unaware of the Space Marine fluff, and rage about his or her ignorance; failing that, it becomes clear that they are well aware of the fluff regarding these matters and willingly chose to disregard it, sending the poor neckbeards into fits of spastic rage that anyone would dare deliberately defile the sacrosanct canon of Games Workshop's masterpiece with the foul taint of cooties.<br />
<br />
[[troll|Still, the afromentioned creator will just ignore him.]]<br />
<br />
==A slightly more reasonable answer==<br />
<br />
The problem really is one of terminology. Women can wear power armour, certainly. Women can, through steroids, incessant bodybuilding, high protein diet, and a little genetic modding, be as buff and rocking as a space marine. But what really makes a space marine a space marine is all of the extra genetically-engineered organs and DNA and whatnot cloned from the Primarchs and implanted in the right way. With a little Fabius Bile magic, there's some vague possibility that you could put that stuff into a woman, but if its Fabius Bile doing it then its kinda more likely that he'd make you a dude with titties and a weird demon vagina than an actual female space marine. Because he's a swell guy like that. And even if he did make you a female space marine for reals, she still wouldn't be a space marine, just a weird, mutilated, chaos infused thing that approximates a space marine but can never truely be one.<br />
<br />
Worth noting, however, that given that Bile's experimented on damn-near everything (including the entire civilian populations of several planets) at some point or another for his attempts to duplicate the methods for creating new space marines, there's ample evidence to suggest that [[/d/|he's tried it at least once]]. Fucking [[Slaanesh]].<br />
<br />
There is a logical answer to that problem that is very mathematical in essence. Let's admit women and men are no different as to combat skill ( Which, because of culture, hormones and whatnot, is already taking away a disadvantage from women ). The only difference is thus physical, with women being, '''on average''', weaker : This means there are women stronger than men, there are even some stronger than '''most''' men, but odds are very high that the strongest individual in any given population will be a man.<br />
<br />
Now that's a lot of "likely", "odds" and "on average", but let's face it :<br />
<br />
- Worlds will numbers '''billions''' of individuals, '''untold billions''', meaning average is law ( Law of large numbers and everything ).<br />
<br />
- With the Imperium's propensity to make its planets ( Especially those Chapters recruit from ) '''shitholes''' constantly assaulted by raiders, xenos, and its own dangerous fauna and climate, we can, without much risk, say one thing : Women are still the only part of the human race that can give birth to children, and thus by eliminating the women with the best genes from the gene pool by turning them into asexual birth incapable Space Marines, the Imperium would commit suicide and the Emperor would bawl in dying Corpse-Throne tears of having destroyed the human race by trying to defend it. Women see plenty of fighting, as Guard, Sororitas, Inquisitors, Mechanicus, Knights, Ecclesiarchs, Rogue Traders, mercenaries, Pirates, Un/Sanctioned Psykers, Cultists, Arbites and so forth. The Imperium just can't destroy the gene pool without turning to cloning, which means relying on machines to bring forth the human form, which is HERESY.<br />
<br />
==Summary==<br />
<br />
For the most part, the neckbeards on /tg/ fear anything with two X chromosomes. For the most part, anyone who actually makes an army of female Space Marines does it to garner the most ire from the most diehard fans. Like playing a [[Tau]] army, it's all about drinking the rage-induced tears of sexually stunted men.<br />
<br />
==See Also==<br />
<br />
*[[Golden Aquilas]]: /tg/ homebrew chapter, designed to cause as much RAEG and accusations of derp as possible.<br />
*[[Space Marines]]: Rule 63 equivalent of female space...Wait.<br />
*[[Sisters of Battle]]: the warrior nuns of the Imperium that typically are actually armed with bolters and chainswords and whom might be construed to some reasonable extent as being the 'female space marines' of Warhammer 40,000<br />
*[[Samus]]: How about a female Primarch?<br />
<br />
==Gallery==<br />
<br />
<center><gallery><br />
Image:Sisters of anger2.png|And if you think this is bad, once a month they all gain Frenzy.<br />
Image:1227373581722.gif|Lol. Why u mad though?<br />
Image:Nidsrape.jpg|Brother-sister Igpay Atinlay boldly distracts the Tyranid foe.<br />
Image:spessbitch.jpg|Not in fact [[Horo]].<br />
File:Female_warhammer_40k_imperium_model_--_100D0212.jpg|She'd be even scarier if she took off that mask<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Gabs.jpg|DYKE OUTTA FUCKING NOWHERE!<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Jayne.jpg|Your eyes should start bleeding right about now.<br />
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_--_Ingunna_Daughter_of_Russ_by_Greymark.jpg|PMS BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!<br />
File:1k heresy.jpg|<s>Not</s> [[Just as planned]]. and now you know why Tzeentch doesn't invite Slaanesh to his birthday parties anymore. [[Just as planned]]<br />
File:Primarchs as teen girls.png| The Emperor made the Primarchs to be the greatest human warriors of all time, but [[Warhammer_High|even they were not immune]] to [[Rule 63]].<br />
File:Femprah_by_Mr-Culexus.jpg|She was not amused by this development.<br />
File:Saber ultra marine.jpg|Don't piss off Mama Smurf. Trust me your genitals will not survive. Shouldn't she be with the dark angels?<br />
File:Chaos saber.jpg|Somehow still less of a failure than the real Abaddon.<br />
</gallery></center><br />
<br />
[[Category:Imperial]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Daemonculaba&diff=160925Daemonculaba2014-06-17T01:32:04Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Borrowing ISN'T Stealing! */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{Promotions}}<br />
<br />
The '''Daemonculaba''' was the [[/d/|epitome of sickfuckery]] in Warhammer 40,000. It was a HOLY FUCK tier mad science project which, using stolen [[gene-seed]], allowed for the creation of new [[Chaos Space Marines]]. It was first conceptualized by the [[Iron Warriors]] Traitor Legion, with the Warsmith [[Honsou]] overseeing it.<br />
<br />
So what made it so [[grimdark|fucked-up]] and evil?<br />
<br />
The Daemonculaba process began by rounding up some human females as slaves. Once corralled, they were shackled naked within iron cages and force-fed nutrients causing their bodies to widen and bloat to unfathomably grotesque proportions, which probably wouldn't have even been possible were they not in the [[Eye of Terror]]. Next, absolutely fucking mad scientists called '''Savage Morticans''' (former members of the [[Adeptus Mechanicus]]' biological division [[Dark Mechanicus|corrupted by Chaos]]) utilized surgical and chemical techniques as well as Chaos magicks to radically alter the slaves' insides and embed them with stolen gene-seed. The 'birthing-womb' thus readied, an adolescent human male was then sealed within -- by performing what was essentially a 'reverse c-section.'<br />
<br />
Days later, the candidate is reborn -- without any skin. Provided they weren't already dead, the candidate was then inspected to see if it was physically worthy to be a Chaos Space Marine. If it wasn't, it was literally flushed out the sewers to die in the barren wastelands surrounding the fortress laboratories. Occasionally though, the rejected creatures survived being cast out and many of these banded together as scavenger-hunters known as the [[Unfleshed]] (who happened to worship the Emperor and built an effigy of him).<br />
<br />
If the candidate passed the inspection, flesh would be cross-stitched onto its body and its new life as a Chaos Space Marine would begin. The skin was harvested from the flayed bodies of human slaves; whose flesh had been painfully stretched to vast proportions before being removed while they were still alive.<br />
<br />
The system could also use genetic material extracted from Iron Warrior corpses, which would then be implanted within the Daemonculabu.<br />
<br />
As for the Daemonculabu themselves, if they happened to survive the birthing process, the cycle would days later begin anew, with them again being used as surrogate birthing-wombs...<br />
<br />
<br />
And then Slaanesh is just looking at all this with interest, his eyes narrowed, and he says; "hmm, that's an interesting act, what do you call yourselves?" and Honsou sticks his chest out and goes; "The Aristocrats!"<br />
<br />
It is rumored that the idea for the Daemonculaba wasn't actually Honsou's, but that only someone as evil as Honsou would ask for advice from the [[/d/|/d/arkest place in the galaxy]] and actually take it seriously.<br />
<br />
<br />
== Destruction ==<br />
[[Varro Tigurius]] of the [[Ultramarines]] had a really horrible nightmare about the Daemonculaba, and [[Marneus Calgar]] ordered the then recently dishonoured [[Uriel Ventris]] and Pasanius Lysane to go and destroy it. With the help of the Unfleshed, Uriel and Pasanius succeeded, but Honsou was left filled with such [[rage]] that he started gathering [[Bloodborn|an army]] to wipe out [[Ultramar]].<br />
<br />
This is still roughly twice as romantic as [[Twilight|Breaking Dawn]].<br />
<br />
<br />
[[category:chaos]][[category:warhammer 40,000]][[Category:Space Marines]]<br />
<br />
== Borrowing ISN'T Stealing! ==<br />
<br />
In an ironic twist, it may be that the very idea of the Daemonculaba isn't all that original at all! There is good reason to suspect that the concept, like many things in [[W40k]], or hell, even sci-fi in general, was stolen from [[Dune]]!<br />
<br />
Namely these assholes, [[Fabius Bile|the Bene Tleilaxu]], the only group to do genetic manipulation in an age when most of humanity has regressed technologically. At times described as a collection of amoral slave-traders, biomedical fabricators, and assassins, and other times described as the greatest religious nutjobs in the galaxy, one thing is for sure - they skipped all of the subtle human training and manipulating everyone else likes for good-old-fashioned Dr. Mengele science. From agricultural products, slaves, and gholas (clones made from dead cells that occasionally have the original's memories and personality), they all came from one source: the Axlotl Tank. What this is was left in the darkness for much of the series, but given that no one had seen a Tleilaxu female in thousands of years, and that some of the gholas to recover their memories recall monstrous mounds of flesh and metal containers as their "mothers" we all see where this was going. By the last book they remaining Tleilaxu actually start sharing this technology with a few others (who graciously donate their own highly-trained females to create some very high-end Tanks) so it's and it's flat-out stated that they reproduce through massive disjointed womb factories that were the remnants of their female sex.<br />
<br />
The kicker? The Tleilaxu produce all of their biological products with Axlotl Tanks, including domestic animals (the only one described being a cow-sized pig-slug that feeds on garbage), drugs for the galactic market, and [[Slaanesh|shape-shifting hermaphrodite sex slaves and warriors]], so the women turned into Axlotl Tanks are birthing other animals far more often than humans. Then again, the Tleilaxu themselves aren't really human at this point but rather anemic midgets with different breeds for different roles in society like an insect colony, so it's just a horror-show all around. The masters consider the face-dancer caste as inhuman sterile mules made to serve them, while they are fairly inhuman and don't reproduce normally either. To add the the horror, the males see having sex with a female as absolutely disgusting and impure, and they do have to make more females to make more tanks, since they decay, and at this point since it is a factory system, the girls are raised with no education or any form of family, being raised in cells, and are turned into tanks before they hit puberty, that is to say, at the age of roughly 10-12, depending. <br />
<br />
Frank Herbert, the author of Dune, in his genius, makes sure that if the reader didn't understand the moral lesson they would get the karma one and thus an introduction to the morals of universal suffrage. Eventually, the Tleilaxu Masters slip up and one of the females escapes the process of becoming an axoxtl tank and is smart enough to learn on her own and helps lead an uprising. In their primordial rage, these women declare they shall never be subjugated for the sex again and title themselves the Honored Matres, or honored mothers, and also create a culture of male segregation and degradation, becoming highly aggressive sexual predators that go from system to system raping men and making them slaves and inducting more women into their ranks, and they live in a constant state of competition for leadership, and all advances in rank are taken by killing summon higher up. This is a sensual rape machine of a society, as compared to the Tleilaxu's stone cold rape machine religion, for they believed they honored God in what they did. Eventually, it ran into a force of it only called "The Enemy (which is not being placed here for spoiler purposes, although this spoils a lot already)" and hightails it back into known space where they upset the balance of the Old Empire and eventually the now more virtuous mostly led female nation-order, the Bene Gesserit, takes over their leadership per Honored Matre tradition and brings the two together to face approaching "Enemy". Herbert shows how evil misogyny is and also shows that it can create an opposite force of just as evil nature out of vengeance, which can only be soothed by empathetic, determined, strong, goodness.</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Deathstrike_Missile_Launcher&diff=171433Deathstrike Missile Launcher2014-06-17T00:38:26Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Tactics */</p>
<hr />
<div>[[Image:Deathstrike.jpg|right|thumb|300px|Subtlety? Fuck that noise.]]<br />
<br />
It's time. You need to give your foe the finger in defiance.<br />
<br />
But not just an ordinary finger, oh no. <br />
<br />
You want to go for a giant middle finger, one which will launch into the sky, then come crashing down and trigger an explosion of [[Exterminatus|apocalyptic proportions]]. Well good news, [[Imperial Guard|Guard]] players: You have an option. This option happens to be the single most over-the-top thing in the Imperial Guard, and that's saying a lot for an army that fields Tanks the size of small countries and batteries of artillery capable of raining death from across a table. You want to ''nuke'' the motherfuckers, and the Deathstrike Missile Launcher will allow you to do just that. It's time you brought in the frontline ICBM.<br />
<br />
==Overview==<br />
[[File:Deathstriker.png|350px|thumb|right|This explains everything.]]<br />
The [[Basilisk Artillery Gun]] and other artillery used by the guard have numbers.<br />
<br />
The [[Manticore Rocket Launcher]] has its cluster-bomb effect.<br />
<br />
The [[Deathstrike Missile Launcher]] has raw, balls-out power.<br />
<br />
Put yourself in the mindset of the commanding officer:<br />
<br />
"Gunner, do you see that army?"<br />
<br />
"Yes mi'lord."<br />
<br />
"I don't want to."<br />
<br />
"Understood mi'lord."<br />
<br />
And there's the reason to bring one in a nutshell.<br />
<br />
The first thing to note about the Deathstrike is that it has only one shot, and takes at least one turn to be suitably prepped to fire - so it cannot fire first turn. It also cannot fire if it has moved. It has the rule ''"The Hour is Nigh,"'' which means that you need to roll a d6 every turn after the first for the Deathstrike, adding +1 for each round the Deathstrike has been on the table, and subtracting -1 for each weapon destroyed, crew stunned, and crew shaken result the vehicle has taken. If the result is 4 or greater (a roll of a natural 6 is an automatic success), the Deathstrike may fire its missile.<br />
<br />
Why suffer all these penalties for a one-shot weapon? Why bother going through all this for a vehicle whose drawbacks are easily eclipsed by the upsides of the Basilisk, Colossus Siege Mortar, and Manticore Rocket Launcher? The answer lies in the Deathstrike's overwhelming power. That one missile has unlimited range, is Strength 10, AP1, ignores cover saves, auto-hits everything in the blast, and deals its full strength of 10 to any vehicle caught even remotely in the blast area. Topping it all off, its blast radius is 10", which will make blob armies cry.<br />
<br />
The most subtly hilarious facet of the Deathstrike is its range. For the retarded (or the actually clever people who use the metric system instead of the Imperial one), 960" (its initial range before it was errata'd away) is more than 25 yards, perfect for when you're playing an Apocalypse game by telephone. Although compared to the scale of the model, it's nowhere near "intercontinental", the errata made it so. Conversely, its minimum range is 12", considerably shorter than many other artillery weapons. If fired at a close target, with its maximum 6" blast, and a really bad scatter roll, the Deathstrike launcher can blow itself to kingdom come, unique among models with a minimum range.<br />
<br />
In short: Anything in that blast radius that doesn't have Eternal Warrior just had to roll for [[Anal Circumference]]. It has a [[Heavy Bolter]], too, but no one cares about that.<br />
<br />
==Tactics==<br />
Sadly, the Deathstrike's weaknesses of only one shot, long ready time, middling accuracy, and variable blast size makes it a bit too chonky to be used effectively in a typical game. It's extremely effective when it fires, and it can utterly invalidate almost any enemy unit it targets, but it pays a lot for this. Getting the most out of the Deathstrike usually involves fitting it with Camo Netting to make it stealth, and a Hunter-Killer Missile, optionally, to let it do something when not sitting around waiting for the gun to fire.<br />
<br />
Or you could just use it as the ultimate freak-out unit, like a distraction carnifex your opponent will focus a lot of effort and energy into getting rid of it before it has a chance to fire. Use 30 of them in an apocalypse game for the ultimate lulz.<br />
<br />
Another use in apocalypse is to take it as the Deathstrike Vortex Missile formation (giving it "fueled and ready for launch", which reduces the number you have to roll to launch the thing). This can then be used to snipe off annoying enemy characters (or titans, or gargantuan creatures) as an amazing display of overkill.<br />
<br />
Alternatively, phone up a distant Games Workshop, and tell them that you're targeting your Deathstrike Missile Launcher across state lines, to attack a randomly chosen game going on at their store. Even the Fantasy ones.<br />
<br />
As a side note, We all know that cockroaches are immune to fallout so Tyranid's big monstrous creatures (f.ex those that you WANT TO KILL with this thing) can shrug off deathstrike missile's effects with Feel No Pain, Regeneration or just not giving a fuk with 5 more Wounds to go on.<br />
However, when against spehs mehreens, this is the ultimate troll machine for instakilling everything. <br />
That is of course, if they appear after the explosion. The oversized bugs still have do deal with an atomic explosion if they are in it, and while they can remove the cancerous bodyparts if the Hive Mind wills it, being a bug does not stop atomic physics from ruining your bug caraparace day.<br />
<br />
''Thought of the Day: Know your Enemy, Prepare Anus.''<br />
<br />
==Vortex Missile==<br />
For even more [[rape]] you can take in a Deathstrike launcher armed with a [[Vortex Missile]]. This monster has the same blast but it would instagib ANYTHING, save gargantuan creatures, super-heavy vehicles (who lose D6 Wound or D3 SP respectively), and independent characters who have rules that come into play when they get removed from play like Trazyn or Saint Celestine.<br />
No saves of any kind, no eternal warrior, no rolls for damage, no reanimation protocols or other back from dead bullshit - everything under blast template would be just thrown into the warp. And the vortex blast would stick around as a 3" marker, scattering 2D6" at the start of both players turns with the same rules, only disappearing when a double is rolled. [[RAGE|Taking one of these is a nice way to bring a game to a friendly conclusion]]<br />
<br />
==See Also==<br />
[http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/19749704/ A fourth of July celebration in which a nuclear war is started between Britan and the USA, fought with Deathstrikes.]<BR><br />
[http://www.games-workshop.com/MEDIA_CustomProductCatalog/m1230511a_Imperial_Guard_Datasheet_-_Deathstrike_Vortex_Missile/ GW's Vortex Missile datasheet]<br />
<br />
{{Template:40k-Imperial-Vehicles}}</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Dark_Eldar&diff=164465Dark Eldar2014-06-16T23:50:25Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* One Veteran's Analysis on the Fall of the Eldar */</p>
<hr />
<div>[[Image:Dark_Eldar_Symbol.png|center]]<br />
''"Think occasionally of the suffering of which you spare yourself the sight."''<br />
- Albert Schweitzer<br />
<br />
The '''Dark Eldar''' are the villainous counterparts of the [[Eldar]], who followed the horrific depravity that saw the Eldar Empire destroyed. Hailing from [[Commorragh]] in the [[Webway]], the Dark Eldar spirit out from the shadows to take slaves to commit unspeakable atrocities on whoever they capture. <br />
<br />
In short, they're the most evil race in [[Warhammer 40,000]], which is a hell of an accomplishment. Their lives revolve around sadistic torture. They are a combination of the Reavers from ''Firefly'' and the Cenobites from ''Hellraiser''.<br />
<br />
==History==<br />
<br />
The Eldar, after the [[FATAL|disaster]] that caused [[Slaanesh]] and [[Eye of Terror|turned their empire into the universe's biggest Goatse.cx reference]], destroying their once-great race and [[grimdark|killing 90% or so of their population outright]], were a dying race. Slaanesh was devouring their souls like Eldar McNuggets, and it was only through ascetic mysticism and use of Soulstones that Eldar could avoid getting nommed by She Who Thirsts. Conventional wisdom was that these Eldar only survived on craftworlds and maiden worlds that the Eldar had colonized before the fall.<br />
<br />
[[Dawn of War|Conventional wisdom]], of course, [[C.S.Goto|means little in the 40K universe]]. Whilst most of the Eldar were assraped to death by Slaanesh when their falling into depraved cycles of decadence reached critical mass and caused a Chaos god to be born, a few of them survived because they were in parts of the Webway (a portal network that the Eldar use for transportation). They escaped with no real ill-effects, or so they thought. In reality, Slaanesh was slowly nomming their souls just like she does every Eldar without a Soulstone - however, they found that by [[Grimdark|continuing to engage in rampant hedonism and by torturing and inflicting pain and anguish on other creatures would reduce or even the reverse the effects of Slaanesh's hold on them]], forcing them to seek out and capture, kill, and torment the "lesser" races of the galaxy in order to satiate themselves and stave off their doom. Some claim that this was [[Just as planned]] by [[Tzeentch]]; some scholars hint [[Eldrad]] may bear some responsibility (although seeing how he was a rookie seer at the time doubt it).<br />
<br />
[[Image:Dork_Elfdar_Winch.png|thumb|right|My bra is a face. Your argument is invalid.]]<br />
<br />
Sadistic and psychotic to the point of making your average [[Chaos Space Marines|Chaos Marine]] look like hippies in contrast, hopped up on cocktails of combat stimulant drugs that would OD an [[Eversor]], and armed predominantly with weapons and equipment that cause [[Indrick Boreale|unspeakable immeasurable agony]] in those they go after, the Dark Eldar are easily the most depraved and vicious race the 41st millennium has. Hated by literally every single faction in the 41st millennium, the Dark Eldar are perhaps the only race with [[Anal circumference|bigger assholes]] than [[Eldrad]], though in spite of this, unlike their sissy counterparts, the Dark Eldar are hated much less by the playerbase - presumably because their army actually takes some brains to use and isn't a giant bunch of status-quo-defending [[Eldar|faggots]].<br />
<br />
In battle, Dark Eldar center around hit-and-run tactics, dealing huge damage and moving fast; few of their units can really take much abuse, making them even more fragile than their counterparts. Their standard infantry armor is identical to that of a Guardian (not terribly good), their vehicles are predominantly lightly-armored transport and attack craft that can be brought down by anti-infantry gunfire, and the armor on a typical Wych or Grotesque is no tougher than the ramshackle metal plating favored by Orks, but without the whole "I believe this armor will protect me, which is why it does" and at absolute best will cover only nipples and vulva, meaning that it would take considerable skill (and a somewhat sadistic shooter) to bounce a round off of their 'armour'. Suffice to say, they are extremely fragile and metaphorically half-naked in battle (literally if female), and getting the most out of them takes skill and patience that is rarely-seen on [[/tg/]]; whilst most fa/tg/uys will openly mock your average Eldar player, they will give pause and show some respect to a Dark Eldar player worth their salt.<br />
<br />
The Dark Eldar are known for the ''excessive'' amount of [[Faptau|fapping]] [[Heresy|material]] involved with them, and they are the subject of thousands of sexual fantasies by <strike>desperate masochistic teenagers</strike> middle aged neckbeards incapable of handling [[Female Space Marines|real women]]. They did, after all, kind of rape/drug/kill/etc themselves into oblivion, which tends to lend itself towards certain excessive abuses. They are also known for having some of the most fucking awesome-looking models on the tabletop, even if the armor of half of what they field will suffer instant critical existence failure at the hands of your typical [[Space Marine]].<br />
<br />
As someone lost to the annals of history noted, the fact that the Dark Eldar are ambitious, sex-crazed, easily shot down, boat & airplane loving pseudo-aristocrats haunted by a terrible curse means that they are the 40k version of the Kennedys.<br />
<br />
==Codex Update==<br />
[[File:Dark_Eldar_Safe.jpg|thumb|right|1998-2010 - twelve years of codex blue balls]]<br />
The Dark Eldar, historically, have always been the race for the professionals; they were insanely hard to use by any stretch, their units too lightly-armored, their models requiring some expertise to pick up without impaling yourself, and they were easily the ''least'' played faction in the 41st Millennium. Nearly 12 years passed before a codex update - and suddenly just recently (2010), [[Games Workshop|GW]] decided to throw the Dark Eldar players a much-needed bone.<br />
<br />
Sweet [[Emperor|Jesus]], talk about buffs.<br />
<br />
Very little changed fluff-wise, though a lot was fleshed out, but the Dark Eldar gained substantial staying power and can actually field a reasonably <s>tough</s> hard-hitting army now. Their new Power from Pain rule makes them tougher as they score kills, and the army now has a lot of potential for being much more forgiving of mistakes (previously it was a case of either steamrolling foes or getting curb-stomped). Lots of new options and extensive access to poisoned range weapons makes them extremely versatile - as well as the bane of Tyranid players everywhere.<br />
<br />
==The Dark Eldar Themselves==<br />
"I came to bring the pain, hardcore from the brain/Let's go inside my astral plane." - ''Method Man, Archon of the Wu Tang Kabal.''<br />
<br />
The story of the Dark Eldar's fall and their need to inflict pain and horror in order to live - as well as elaboration on their kabalistic practices - have gone a long way towards deepening their fluff considerably (as one noble fa/tg/uy surmised, less retarded Saturday morning cartoon villainy). While some have balked at the more vampiric flavor of the New DE Codex, several denizens of /tg/ have managed to extract comic gold from this. A common musing is that they are ambitious, sex-crazed, easily shot down, boat-and-plane-loving pseudo-aristocrats haunted by a dark curse - ergo, they're not vampires, but, in fact, the Kennedys.<br />
<br />
Putting it simply, the soul of a Dark Eldar is [[Grimdark|an open wound that can only be salved with suffering, a void that can only be filled with tortured bodies, a thirst that can only be quenched by spilled blood.]] The origin of this void within the Dark Eldar, and the source of the nigh-religious terror that drives them to commit these daily atrocities, is the knowledge that <s>THEY WILL NEVER BE ULTRAMARINES</s> upon death, their soul is forfeit to the Chaos God Slaanesh - an eventuality they intend to stem off at all costs.<br />
<br />
Fortunately for the Dark Eldar, provided that someone recovers enough of their remains, their dead body parts can be brought to the Dark Eldar Haemonculi (an ancient order of Dr. Mengeles, the people that educated Fabius Bile in the art of being a gigantic [[Creed|dick]]) and regenerate themselves in case of death, complete with personality and mental faculties intact. This also keeps their soul from being devoured by Slaanesh - but at a price - this regenerative process is fueled by pain just as surely as the Dark Eldar themselves. This is the reason Dark Eldar raids are so eager to get in and get out as fast as possible; [[grimdark|if the subject is dead for more than a day or so, they're beyond recovery]].<br />
[[Image:1287692229240.jpg|thumb|left|A lot like this, really.]]<br />
Their diet of anguish has blessed the Dark Eldar with some of the longest lifespans in the setting, only surpassed by godlike figures like the C'tan, Necrons, the [[Emperor|Emprah]], and the Chaos Gods. If they die, they just respawn back at base once the Haemonculi have managed to torture and/or bosh enough pain out of their subjects to allow the occupants of their rejuvenation pods to regenerate. <br />
<br />
The Dark Eldar have also overcome the traditional [[Gay|Elven birthrate problem]] by finding a fun workaround to the long gestation period of conventional Eldar - they can remove a fertilized ovum and place it in an amniotic tube to age them quickly enough to be useful. This is looked down on by Dark Eldar society however - they even have an elite unit, the Trueborn, that are basically a bunch of spoiled brats who feel entitled to all the good weapons just because they got pushed out of a proper twat. The fact that hedonism is the rule in Commorragh probably helps too. On that note, Dark Eldar society has a MUCH larger population of Eldar-human hybrids than anywhere else. What, you thought human slaves were only there for toil or torture? (Although rape by a Dark Eldar involves both of these things, so don't get your hopes up.)<br />
<br />
The Dark Eldar have some of the most advanced tech in the 41st millennium, in cases even surpassing the powerful weapons of their cousins. Access to weapons that basically fling incandescent dark matter and miniature stars around goes a long way towards giving them serious "I'm going to fuck your shit up" power, and their access to arcane wargear and super-fast vehicles even more so. In fact the only race that comes even close to the technological level and destructive power of the Dark Eldar is the [[Necrons]], whose basic weapon rips the molecules off its target, flaying one layer off at a time (though it's still near-instant). Humanity apparently managed to one-up them back in the Dark Age of Overpoweredness, but given that applies to every other race as well (including Eldar) and they've forgotten how to use any of it, that hardly counts.<br />
<br />
All that said, at least now their continued survival is not as implausible as the Reavers from Firefly maintaining a functional spacefleet - the Dark Eldar are smart, and even though they'll fight each other to death over a biscuit in Commorragh, during a raid into Real Space they set aside their differences to [[/tg/ gets shit done|GET SHIT DONE]]. The new codex also points out the Dark Eldar do follow a set of rules while fighting each other and running shit, one of the reason they they enjoy to raid real space is because it allows them to cut loose.<br />
<br />
==One Veteran's Analysis on the Fall of the Eldar==<br />
<br />
[[Image:Macha 8.png|thumb|right]]<br />
<br />
[[Macha]] got laid. Ages ago. She's been lying to us. The universe at large thought that this was an affront, and tore itself a new one in response. You silly fuckers, did you think that just by fucking, the Eldar race as a whole could create the Eye Of Terror? <br />
<br />
Actually, it is far more likely that the [[C%27tan| C'tan]] did it. Hell, it's more likely that the [[Tyranid|'nids]] did it. It may have also been a result of the weekly card game between [[Tzeentch]], the [[C%27tan|Deceiver]], and [[Cegorach]], and the Emperor. We may never know for sure.<br />
<br />
One also should not forget that even though the Eldar were notable for having majority of radical hedonists at the time (which is a horrid way to put it) that doesn't mean the other races did not, and humans were most likely second in line, and didn't have as many as the Eldar simply due to having brains that were equally receptive to becoming mass murderers (Khorne), decadent tyrants (Nurgle), aimless bureaucratic trolls (Tzeentch), nihilists (Malak), and extremist atheists (Necoho) as to be drug addicts, torturers, and manifesting physical-psychological sexual perversion, and that these all often mixed, and that there is the further division of expansionism and technological progress (the Void Dragon) and then you have all the forces of Order which could hold just as much influence. <br />
<br />
<br clear=all /><br />
<br />
==COMMORRAGH WELCOMES CAREFUL DRIVERS==<br />
The Dark Eldar live in the Dark City of Commorragh, basically an impossibly large extradimensional port city fueled by two stolen suns (and they made sure to steal suns from inhabited planetary systems, because fuck those guys). Think of a sprawling cross between 19th Century Shanghai/Singapore with Vice City, a wretched hive of scum and villainy with a drug/torture/rape-based economy and the warped architecture of ''Inception''. So watch out, Utica! Commorragh is a city on the... Grow!<br />
<br />
If you can survive the inhabitants of the Dark City there is only one problem. Being in the Webway, every now and then the Dark City will suffer something called a Dysjunction; the Webway/Warp equivalent of a natural disaster which is a more powerful combination of earthquake/firestorm/hurricane that can spread across large parts of the Webway and really wreck Commorragh. In addition, it damages the walls of the Webway, which can allow daemons to invade all across Commmorragh. Fortunately, this is rare and only happens during huge bouts of Warp-related turmoil. <br />
<br />
It's only been invaded once by Orks (that time with daemons, apart from Dysjunctions, they were summoned into Commorragh) and the only time it was in serious danger was when Vect, plotting a coup against the ruling Archons, arranged for a ship filled with a few hundred Space Marines (In a shocking change from the norm, the [[Salamanders]], for once; [[Matt Ward]] is rumored to have had the vapors from this, though the Salamanders are frequently depicted as having a huge grudge against the Dark Eldar due to Vulkan's origin story) to be towed to the Dark City. Of course, ''most'' of Commorragh's armed forces fought the Space Marines, who managed to escape despite heavy losses. <br />
<br />
Five-hundred combat equipped Space Marines in a close defensive formation were barely able to hold back the Dark Eldar long enough for reinforcements from other chapters to arrive (Vect deliberately left the webway portal open to allow this). Bolstered with these reinforcements, they held out long enough to free the initially-captured ship and escape, and lost well over half their number doing so. All the while, the Dark Eldar counterattack was impeded by Vect's battlefield assassinations of important Kabal leaders and stalling of reinforcements from the rest of the Houses until the people he wanted dead were dead (notably, [[Lelith Hesperax]] led the charge on one of these assassinations, demonstrating just how old she is). Does being manipulated into a frantic and losing fight for survival to further the political goals of a Dark Eldar sound like the hallmark of Matt 'Khornate Knights' Ward? Nope. Salamanders are awesome, Asdrubael Vect is awesome, Phil Kelly is awesome, this codex fucking rules.<br />
<br />
==Special Characters==<br />
At least the Dark Eldar actually have playable special characters now: <br />
<br />
[[Asdrubael vect| Asdrubael Vect]], the Pimp Master General of Commorragh who's now a manipulator on par with Eldrad and, impossibly, an even bigger dick. <br />
<br />
[[Drazhar]], the Master of Blades, who's strongly suggested is the fallen Phoenix Lord of the Striking Scorpions aspect. <br />
<br />
[[Lelith Hesperax]], an oversexed gladiatrix/snuff-film porn starlet so badass her fucking hair counts as a power weapon (srsly, so much implied masturbation in her profile, it's not even funny). <br />
<br />
[[Lady Malys]], an anime villainess and Vect's pissed-off ex-wife. She won someone's heart in a contest and shoved it in her chest.<br />
<br />
<s>Kruellagh the Vile, possibly the worst-named character in 40K history.</s> NO LONGER EXISTS. ALL HAIL [[Phil Kelly|LORD KELLY!]]<br />
<br />
Lord Hellion [[Baron Sathonyx]], who many on /tg/ believe to be Spider-Man's archnemesis. <br />
<br />
[[Kheradruakh]] the Decapitator, who, uh, cuts peoples heads off and collects them like beanie babies. Implied to be collecting them like coconuts to do some serious warp-related shit. <br />
<br />
[[Duke Sliscus]], a pirate king who drinks poisons, has all the best drugs, and brings all the bitches to the yard with his gigantic [[Eldrad|cock]]. Almost as insufferable as [[Assholetep]].<br />
<br />
[[Urien Rakarth]], a hyper-evolved Pavi Largo.<br />
<br />
== Dating a Dark Eldar ==<br />
<br />
{| border=2 cellspacing=2 cellpadding=2<br />
|-<br />
! Likes !! Dislikes<br />
|- valign=top<br />
|<br />
* "Playthings"<br />
* Latex<br />
* Whips<br />
* Hardcore, ballbusting Sex<br />
* Drugs<br />
* Rock'n'Roll<br />
* S/M<br />
* Holes<br />
* Rods<br />
|<br />
* Sunshine<br />
* Puppies<br />
* Flowers<br />
* John Denver<br />
* Sobriety<br />
* "Vanilla" sex<br />
* Erectile Dysfunction<br />
|}<br />
<br />
==Gallery==<br />
<br />
<center><gallery><br />
<br />
File:Duke_uses_poison.jpg#file.png|Kill like a DEldar, DEldar.<br />
Image:40kshock.jpg<br />
Image:LynnminwenCD.jpg|Buying this CD is [[Heresy]]! Download it from torrent.<br />
Image:Advice_Darkeldar.jpg.jpg|No, no, you got it right the first time.<br />
File:Blackholeinabox.jpg#file.png|Oh, that wacky Vect.<br />
Image:Talos pain engine by moonskinned-d5tx8v6.jpg| "Well, look. I mean, is he gonna be able to chase us? Cause if I woke up lookin' like that, I would just run towards the nearest living thing and kill it."<br />
Image:Wrack by moonskinned-d5tx8oj.jpg|He's only a gimp but he's not that funny.<br />
Image:Inception.jpg|Your daily commute in Commorragh, except everyone's an [[Dwarf Fortress|elf-rapist]], the pistols shoot poison that can kill robots, and the chicks are soul-sucking crack whore gladiators.<br />
File:Wych_Battle.jpg|Some armies clad their dedicated combat units in armor that covers more than areolas and genitals. Some armies are for ''pussies''.<br />
Image:Dark Eldar Raid Colored by MajesticChicken.jpg|Mercy? Interesting word, I always wanted to know its meaning.<br />
Image:Dark eldar.jpg|<br />
Image:Commorragh Runner.jpg<br />
Image:Commorragh.jpg|What is up?<br />
Image:Idealized.jpg|Fucking [[My Little Pony|Pony]] nonsense... Fucking with... Sense of... What were we talking about?<br />
Image:Dark_Eldar_Combat_Drugs_-_Not_Even_Once_2.png| Combat drugs: Not even once.<br />
File:Warhammer 40k sisters of battle adeptas sororitas battling Dark Eldar.jpg|If an army of evil space-dominatrices squared off against an army of semi-heroic space nuns, who would win? <small>We don't care its HAWT.</small><br />
</gallery></center><br />
<br />
==See Also==<br />
*[[Warhammer 40,000/Tactics/Dark Eldar|Tactics/Dark Eldar]]<br />
*[[The Enshrouded]]<br />
<br />
[[Category:Dark Eldar]][[Category:Warhammer 40,000]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Perpetual&diff=377228Perpetual2014-06-16T22:42:31Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* The Emperor */</p>
<hr />
<div>A '''Perpetual''' is a person of [[40k|the grim darkness of the 41st millenium]] who drew the absolutely shortest straw possible: they are immortal. And nothing of this "age without youth" or "immortality without indestructibility" bullshit: they do not age and can survive the most gruesome deaths imaginable up to and including taking an [[Exterminatus]] to the face because they can reassemble themselves from their constituent atoms. [[/co/|They're like Wolverine on steroids like that]]. Which, given [[Grimdark|the relentless sunshine of the Warhammer 40.000 universe is NOT a good thing: not even death will relieve your suffering.]] There are only a few things that can kill a Perpetual for good, but these powers and weapons are known to only a few individuals in the galaxy (and even then it's not known for certain how effective they are, or if they even work). Very little is known about the Perpetuals including their origin, number, purpose or even if those suspected to be them actually being Perpetuals (all that we know is that durning the Horus Heresy, there were exactly 3 Perpetuals living in Ultramar; given that Ultramar consisted of 500 planets at the time, we have to assume that they're extraordinarily rare). Of only eight individuals is the status of Perpetual known or confirmed. <br />
<br />
We do however know, that people could be turned Perpetual by being resurrected. Which, ironically, might imply that [[Kharn]] and [[Lucius]] at some point became Perpetual too, since they're both came back from dead. It'll explain how Kharn managed to survive for that long despite his suicidal psychotic charges into everything he sees, and how Lucius resurrected without possessing anyone's body after being cut too pieces by an emotionless Rubric Swordmaster.<br />
<br />
==The Emperor==<br />
With all of his mysteries it would explain a number of things about the [[Emperor]] if he was a Perpetual: his age, knowledge in an era where everyone else on [[Terra]] was too busy [[LARP]]ing a crossover of [[Terminator]] and [[Fist of the North Star]] to learn shit and his massive power (learned over time). On the other hand it would not explain why he didn't just regenerate after being bitchslapped by [[Horus]]. The best explanation for this is that that the Golden Throne, while maintaining his life functions, is also keeping him from resurrecting himself- in theory, if it was shut down, the only real effect it would have is that the Emperor would "die" for a day or two at most before fully healing from his injuries. A shame that nobody seems to realize this, as it would end most of the Imperium's problems on the spot, and would create some new ones, as quite a few people wouldn't be happy with the return of [[Imperial Truth]], especially the Ecclesiarchy. Of course, knowing the Emperor he'd crush them like bugs if they tried to oppose him, or even if they didn't. There is no way he would agree with the current Imperium.<br />
<br />
Recent revelations from the Horus Heresy books also suggest that his godlike powers were actually stolen from the Chaos Gods themselves instead of being wholly his own. Needless to say, the Ruinous Powers still have a grudge. Also, the Emperor was created from purely psychic circumstances, although the idea that the Cabal brought him to life if the psykers botched the reincarnation process. That still leaves out how on Earth Horus has severely wounded him with a corrupt pair of lightning claws and a mace and the Emperor hasn't recovered, unless in order to heal he has to deconstruct himself and then be put back together, which would mean not sitting on the Throne for a while.<br />
<br />
==Ollanius Persson==<br />
A confirmed Perpetual, ol' [[Ollanius Pius|Ollie Persson]] was one of the Argonauts of Greek myth and fought at Austerlitz (during Napoleon's conquests) and Verdun (infamous as one of the bloodiest battles in all of World War I). It also explains how he managed to survive boarding Horus' flagship during the [[Siege of Terra]]. It is unknown if Horus actually managed to kill him: while [[Chaos|CHAOS]] [[Dakka|MINDBULLETS]] certainly sound like they could do the trick it still is quite possible that [[Troll|he reassembled himself and walked off, not giving a fuck.]] A man with true balls of steel.<br />
<br />
==John Grammaticus==<br />
Agent of [[the Cabal]] and a lesser [[psyker]]; [[John Grammaticus]] [[meme|<strike>WHO WAS GORDON GRAMMATICUS' BROTHER WAS ONE DAY AT AN OFFICE TYPING ON A COMPUTOR</strike>]] is an interesting case: after he died at Anatol [[Hive]] an [[Eldar]] [[Autarch]] called Slau Dha found his body and made him into a Perpetual, signaling that it is possible for humans to become Perpetuals. That, or Slau Dha was the equivalent of Ramirez and John was Connor MacLeod from Highlander. If this were the case this would make John and Slau Dha at least eight times more [[awesome]]. Grammaticus' skills gained over the course of a millennium of life were instrumental for recruiting [[Alpharius]] to the cause of the Cabal, but he felt bad for this and stepped out of an airlock in the faint hope that it would kill him. (It did, but then he just came back to life again.)<br />
<br />
After the dropsite massacre he spent some time digging up an old relic spear that was actually made from cast-off lightning of the Emperor's divinity, reputed to be able to kill anything, even other immortals. After the apparent failure of the "Alpharius Gambit" ''(two choices, two primarchs, go figure)'' the Cabal had intended to use it to stop Vulkan from reaching Terra and interfering with their future plans.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately such a powerful relic made Grammaticus into a big giant target, and he ended up getting captured, killed and recaptured by the [[Word Bearers]] and the broken legions and eventually finding his way to [[Macragge]]. <br />
<br />
On the way he was contacted psychically by [[Eldrad|this dick]] who told him that he could strike back at the Cabal by stabbing Vulkan himself, since if [[derp|another immortal did it it would work differently]], and in this case it would somehow heal the primarch who was mentally broken after years of torture by [[Konrad Curze]]. Because of reasons.<br />
<br />
Also at some point during the invasion of Calth he found Oll Persson and tried to recruit him to the cause, though that didn't go too well as he was only half-hearted in his attempts anyway, plus Oll couldn't be bothered.<br />
<br />
So after seeking Vulkan out on Macragge he stabbed him, investing his own immortality into the strike, and sucking it out of himself and making him mortal... also apparently killing Vulkan properly this time and therefore doing what the Cabal wanted in the first place.<br />
<br />
It is now uncertain what [[Eldrad]] actually intended, either Vulkan will regenerate or become something entirely new or is just plain dead and Eldrad just [[Tzeentch|double-reverse-psychology]] to get what he wanted and Grammaticus was just a sucker.<br />
<br />
==Damon Prytanis==<br />
Another agent of the Cabal, though unlike John Grammaticus, Damon was more of a soldier than a spy and got all the killy jobs. It is heavily implied that he was the one who killed Martin Luther King as well as other important figures throughout human history.<br />
<br />
Was apparently more comfortable with his position in the Cabal, even though it meant working against his own species, and would infer as much during his meetings with John Grammaticus, which made him more trustworthy in the eyes of the Cabal. During John's last mission Damon was sent to watch over him and make sure that he didn't falter or chicken out and try to derail their plans.<br />
<br />
He was the individual who brought Cyrene Valantion into the Cabal's fold, having to die once or twice on board the Word Bearer's starship just to prove a point to her.<br />
<br />
==Vulkan==<br />
Like his dad probably was, [[Vulkan]] of the [[Salamanders]] was a confirmed Perpetual. This was put to the ultimate test by none other than [[Konrad Curze|the goddamn Night Haunter himself]], who proceeded to perform the [[Daemonculaba|most depraved tortures and murders on the Lord of the Salamanders in an attempt to break his will]]. Whether he was shot at with bolters at point-blank range, cut apart, decapitated, eviscerated, impaled, dismembered, evaporated, getting his throat torn out with a rusty fork, being quite literally mindfucked,or being tossed naked out of an airlock, Vulkan would neither break nor die, [[Rage|pissing Curze right the fuck off]]. Eventually Curze locked him in a maze courtesy of [[Perturabo]] where he would hunt Vulkan himself. Curze's mistake was to place Dawnbringer at the center of the maze; when Vulkan got to his hammer [[Just as planned|he activated a built-in teleporter that sent him right over to]] [[Macragge]] where he promptly burned up in the atmosphere like a human meteor, re-killing him in the process.<br />
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Here things get complicated: Vulkan regenerated on Macragge but lost his mind, so Guilliman kept him locked up until he could figure out what to do with him ''(even concealing his presence when the Lion arrived)''. However, when [[Konrad Curze]] arrived on Macragge after stowing away on the Lion's flagship, Vulkan escaped in a moment of lucidity and tore his way across the planet (while naked) hunting Curze down and almost defeated him in a one-on-one duel. Shortly afterwards John Grammaticus found the broken primarch and stabbed him with the Fulgurite, a spear once belonging to the Emperor himself and charged with his psychic essence. He could not regenerate from this and neither could [[Roboute Guilliman]], [[Sanguinius]] or [[Lion El'Jonson]] remove the spear from their brother's chest. Given that he was made a casket and send back to [[Nocturne]] for burial we are forced to assume that this casket included a long tube-shaped appendage at least several feet long sticking out at an unusual angle, making this (while tragic) at least eight times more amusing (assuming that he was ever stabbed in the first place). <br />
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Guilliman was hopeful that Vulkan would resurrect himself in time, and insisted that the coffin was a preservation capsule, which Guilliman dubbed "The Unbound Flame". Some Salamanders who maintained a vigil of mourning thought they could hear a heartbeat. Interesting is that The Unbound Flame is one of the nine artifacts of Vulkan searched after by [[Vulkan He'stan|the Forgefathers]] and is, here comes the important part, one of the four that is NOT in their possession yet. So this makes the issue even more complicated or [[Trazyn|someone stole The Unbound Flame and added it to his private collection]].<br />
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What raises an interesting question in Vulkan's case is regarding the source of his powers. If it was given to him by the Emperor, it begs the question why the Emperor did not give all of his sons this ability (though it sort of answers itself with the thought of [[Angron]] becoming the [[Juggernaut]] (bitch!). If it was not the case, it would suggest that the Perpetual trait can be passed down one's bloodline, or at least transferred by cloning. Lots of Big E's abilities apparently can be passed to his 'sons' but we'll never know if he intended to pass some of them (magic powers and immortality specifically) to all of them or not. <br />
<br />
Certainly Vulkan was probably the nicest of the primarch and as such would probably have been the best bet for an undying son. When Empy was looking over the petri dishes for which one to add the immortality to he had to choose between (in order): a two faced jerk, a preening egotistical asshole, a genocidal maniac with poor impulse control, Genghis khan, a frothing berserker, a stubborn joyless misanthrope, a psychopath, a guy with a terrible terrible secret, a nerd who'd rather be talking to a toaster, a psychopath, an aspie, a psychopath, a massively powerful psyker who can't take orders, a massive dick, a petulant child, a nice guy and two people obsessed with secrets and lies. If he did do it deliberately, he made a decent choice.<br />
<br />
==Anval Thawn==<br />
Justicar [[Anval Thawn]] of the [[Grey Knights]] is the biggest mystery of them all. All that is known is that he can walk away from the most gruesome [[Daemon]]-inflicted deaths one can imagine, much to the chagrin of his brothers and bewilderment of the Brotherhood's [[Librarian]]s. It also begs the question of why him being a Perpetual was not detected during his induction into the Grey Knights, [[Gene-seed|either during the tests or abnormal restoring from the involved chiurgery or the speed at which he accepted the nineteen organs]]. Perhaps the Perpetualness is undetectable by normal science or it manifests after a person's first death (much like in Highlander or the [[Planeswalker]] spark of [[Magic: The Gathering]]). Another option is that he might be Ollanius Pius or John Grammaticus, who were tired of dicking around for another 10.000 years and wanted a shot at becoming a [[Space Marine]]. And an even better question is how the fuck the [[Eldar]] were able to recognize him for what he was after only a short period of interaction with them.<br />
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==Cyrene Valantion==<br />
Cyrene Valantion was a common woman from Monarchia, a planet conquered by Word Bearers during the Great Crusade, until [[Ultramarines|some fagots]] blew her home city to ashes to send a "Stop Worshiping Me!" message from the [[Emperor|Big E]] to [[Lorgar]]. Since the smurfs weren't complete assholes they evacuated all civilians. Well, except Cyrene. She decided to stay out of the city borders and watch as orbital bombardment erased her home. Apparently watching an entire city being nuked was not her best decision, since she lost her eyes and almost died due to extreme light radiation burns. When the [[Word Bearers]] arrived they rescued her and figured that she was the only witness of their punishment, which turned her into some kind of saint in their eyes, so they offered her a position of Confessor/Holy Relic, aka "The Blessed Lady" in their fleet. During a few decades of her service she became on a short hand with captain Argel Tal and guided him to his path of the first [[Possessed Marine]] and overall awesome guy who kill loyalists and doesn't afraid anything. Well until muh Heresy, muh Drop Site Massacre and she get herself killed by some Custodes assholes for just being on their way. Needless to say Argel Tal cried a manly tears of rage over her corpse and swore revenge at Custodes, which he delivered just a few hours later butchering them all on the ashes of Istvaan V. Fast forward one year [[Erebus]] being a dick he was resurrected her to oil his machinations with Argel Tal. Mind you she was dead for a year [[Grimdark|and her soul was torn apart and eaten by multiple daemons]] whom Erebus "persuaded" to give the pieces back. Being a badass she was Cyrene recovered from the shock of being mutilated and tormented in hell surprisingly fast, until muh battle for Nuceria, her ship get blown up and she get rescued by none other than Damon Prytanis who told her that being resurrected turned her into Perpetual. And then... Clifhanger...<br />
<br />
==Alivia Sureka==<br />
Another female perpetual and empathic psyker and the most recent to be introduced. Unlike most of the others though she has no apparent connection to the Cabal at all, and in fact is much more closely linked to the Emperor. She had travelled with Him and undisclosed "others" to the planet Moloch where the Emperor somehow travelled directly into the Warp and stole portions of the Chaos God's powers.<br />
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She was left behind on Molech to guard the gateway to stop anyone else from passing through and doing the same thing. Which apparently she did dutifully for a few thousand years... meaning that she is the only other Perpetual in the Emperor's peer group who is actually loyal to him. ''(not counting Vulkan who didn't know and Thawn who came later)''<br />
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When the Great Crusade arrived on the planet, the Emperor fortified the shit out of it, leaving detachments of [[Blood Angels]], [[Ultramarines]], [[Imperial Knight]]s, [[Titans]] and [[Imperial Guard|Imperial Army]], making her somewhat redundant so she settled down and married.<br />
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At least until [[Horus]] arrived during the Heresy and laid waste to most of the Imperial forces in a bid to follow in his father's footsteps and take the same power for himself.<br />
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Humorously, Alivia has several affectations brought over from the second millenium; she has a tendency to use use "modern-day" phrases such as "OK", which do not actually exist in the 41st millenium. She also carries around a book of Hans Christian-Andersen stories ''(probably one of the most priceless artifacts in the Imperium, if anyone knew what it was)'' which she reads to her adopted children.<br />
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[[Category:Warhammer 40,000]][[Category:Imperial]][[Category:Space Marines]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=The_God-Emperor_of_Mankind&diff=483510The God-Emperor of Mankind2014-06-16T22:01:43Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* The Star Child */</p>
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<div>{{awesome}}<br />
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[[File:Lord of Mankind.jpg|300px|right|thumb|Liberating the galaxy is one thing, but he was so powerful he never once stopped looking ''fabulous'' while doing it.]]<br />
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The '''God-Emperor of Mankind''', also known as '''Tha Emprah''', '''Emps''', '''The Big E''', '''Space <s>Lenin</s> Jesus''' and also sometimes called '''The Great and Glorious Big Mac Daddy King Emprah of all things Epic and Awesome''' (ahem, ahem) is the figurehead ruler of the [[Imperium of Man]] in the ''[[Warhammer 40k]]'' universe and is the only sustaining Hope for Humanity (not that [[Tzeentch|other, more horrific brand of "Hope"]]) as Faster than Light Travel is [[Astronomican|entirely dependent on him]]. The [[Administratum]] he established continues to <s>fuck up to hell</s> govern the [[Imperium]] in his name, but it is generally accepted that the absence of the Emperor's proper guidance is what has turned the Imperium into the [[/b/|hellish mess]] that it is. In the [[Imperium]], questioning whatever your superior tells (yells) you the Emperor's word happens to be that day, is treason and [[heresy]], typically punished by [[blam|death]]. Were The Emperor up and about in the 41st millennium, it goes without saying that he would be disappoint. Most fa/tg/uys expect him to speak in a generic deep, stentorian voice. <br />
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Exception? [[The Last Church]]. It is permissible to substitute the voice of whatever angry militant atheist appeals to you most/least for the duration of this one (short) story. Also, according to that same story, this asshole wiped out Scandinavia, [[Viking|right when Scandinavia was getting fun again]]. <s>So FUCK HIM</s>{{BLAM}}{{BLAM|WHERE ARE THESE HERETICS COMING FROM!? WE WILL HAVE TO START A NEW CRUSADE SOON APPARENTLY!}}. According to the Horus Heresy books that mention the Unification Wars, he burned down a lot of things on a partially recovering Terra.<br />
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==The Entire History of the Emprah==<br />
[[File:Majestica.jpg|250px|left|thumb|Big E gets all the bitches.]]<br />
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According to older (read: second edition) [[fluff]], the being that would eventually become known as the Emperor was born in 8000 BC in Anatolia (modern-day Turkey). Allegedly, this was the result of hundreds of human shamans committing ritual suicide to be reborn as a single individual capable of protecting humanity from the [[Chaos Gods]]. However, [[Skub|the validity of this fluff is frequently questioned]], given it hasn't been "official" since second edition. That being said, nothing has explicitly contradicted this story, and the only other theory is that the Emperor is a [[Perpetual]], meaning an immortal ''-but ultimately human-'' psyker with countless lifetimes' worth of knowledge and power and the ambition to use it. However, this theory seems unlikely, especially given the Chaos Gods apparently view the Emperor as an equal/rival, an honor they give to none of the other known Perpetuals, and the ''Horus Heresy'' novels have dropped hints that the Emperor is actually a "we."<br />
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The second edition fluff also mentions that he guided humanity throughout history under a number of guises, such as Jesus, Mohammed, the Buddha, etc. (and, it has to be assumed, [[Conan the Barbarian]]). <br />
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Sometime around the 11th or 12th century, he battled a shard of the [[Void Dragon]] in modern-day Libya. He eventually defeated it and locked it on [[Mars]] (somehow...), allowing the [[Adeptus Mechanicus]] to control machines... eventually. Of course, it's not entirely clear whether this is true or not -- it's entirely possible that ALL of the Emperor's history is a lazily-crafted lie he throws around because no one can debunk it -- but given how [[Awesome]] it sounds, we're going to say it did.<br />
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Apparently, he mostly stayed out of the way during the next 30,000 years of human history, including the [[Dark Age of Technology]], though hot off the press fluff indicates he might have been travelling outer space in old-style NASA rockets with the other perpetuals. Coming to find the planet '''Molech''' where he passed through a gateway that led ''directly'' to the fortresses of the four [[Chaos Gods]]. Here he either challenged, bargained or stole portions of the gods powers from them and when he emerged he was one of the most invincible beings in the universe. <br />
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He returns to Terra at the closing of the [[Age of Strife]]. With Terra cut off from the rest of humanity's former empire and the Terra itself ruled by warring "techno-barbarians" in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, the Emperor decided to reveal himself, using his mastery of genetic engineering to create the [[Thunder Warriors]], the predecessors to the Space Marines. Using "join-me-or-die" tactics, he managed to conquer the entirety of Terra during the Unification Wars. Then, he made contact with the Mechanicus on Mars and, calling himself the [[Omnissiah]], convinced them to build him weapons and ships. Around this time, he also created the [[Imperial Truth]], which says that religion, faith, and superstition were all banned; apparently, it took him this long to realize the whole "Peace, Love, and Religion" thing wasn't working.<br />
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But, before he set out to conquer the stars with the newly-formed Imperial Army (which contained both [[Imperial Guard|ground forces]] and [[Imperial Navy|space-borne fleets]]), he decided to create the twenty [[Primarch]]s to serve as his generals using himself as the template; though with his new-found powers ''apparently'' stolen from the Gods at Molech, they would inevitably be pissed at him cloning THEIR energies. So the Chaos Gods snatched them away (via time-travel-as-a-vision shenanigans) from their incubators in a secret lab underneath the Himalayas and scattered them across the galaxy. Luckily for the Emperor, some genetic code was left over, and so from that he created 20 Legions to serve as the elites of his army: The [[Space Marine|SPEHSS MEHREENS]]. So, with his armies complete (minus the Primarchs, which he hoped to find), he embarked on the [[Great Crusade]] to once again allow humanity to control the stars.<br />
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As he found each Primarch, he assigned them to command each of their respective Legions to retake humanity in the [[Great Crusade]] (although, at some point, two of them disappeared or were executed, leaving only 18 Primarchs and Legions at the end of the Great Crusade). A military campaign of a grand scale, this is also when the SPESS MEHREENS were the most awesome and at their peak. [[just as planned|Just when things seem to be going well]], the [[Horus Heresy]] erupts where 9 of the Primarchs and their legions rebel against the Emprah. In the end, the Emperor fought and slew [[Horus]] (who was daddy's favorite) but at a great cost. The Emperor was mortally wounded to the point that he had to be put permanently on a life support system known as the [[Golden Throne]] (and he humiliated himself in the middle of the fight when he cried). <s>All agree that the bronze liberal douchebag deserved it.</s> {{BLAM|''' ''*BLAM!*'' ''''''EXTRA''' HERESY!!!}}<br />
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Subsequently, without the Emperor's leadership, the Imperium eventually degraded into the theocratic [[Grimdark]] empire we all know and love today, in the 41st millennium.<br />
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While interred on the Golden Throne, the Emperor's psy-essence prevents [[daemon|daemonkind]] from directly assailing [[Terra]], and also sustains the psychic-beacon known as the [[Astronomicon]]. Without the Emperor, warp travel would not be possible, and everyone on Terra would be raped, both sexually and non-sexually.<br />
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It is established that the Emperor is pretty much the most powerful psyker alive, humbling even the [[Eldar]]. He is tens of thousands of years old and has been secretly guiding humanity from behind the scenes for much of his lifetime. Theories variously suggest that he was also Sigmar of [[Warhammer Fantasy Battle]] fame, Julius Caesar, [[Conan the Barbarian]], [[meme|Chuck Norris]], and Jesus. It is uncertain as to whether or not his internment on the Golden Throne is a good thing; some believe that if he were to die, the [[Imperium]] would be truly plunged into darkness, whereas others believe that if allowed to finally die he would reincarnate and return to unify the galaxy once more. Whatever the truth of the matter, [[Games Workshop]] are never going to advance the story, so it is mostly irrelevant.<br />
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==The Emprah Himself==<br />
After he shaved his goatee, his chin radiated a brilliant light through the [[Warp]]. The [[Imperial Navy]] uses this light, the Astronomicon, as a beacon to guide them through that terrible place. He is sometimes referred to as the Emprah, a joke derived from the voice acting in the ''[[Dawn of War]]'' game, ''[[Dawn of War: Soulstorm|Soulstorm]]'', specifically [[Indrick Boreale]]'s final speeches.<br />
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The Emperor is so powerful that he could [[Awesome|'''DESTROY SUNS BY SNAPPING HIS FINGERS!!!''']]<br />
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The [[Chaos]] Gods are scared as fuck of the guy, and hope he dies so they can take over the universe. ''If'' the God Emperor were to arise again [[Chaos]] would be '''FUCKED'''.<br />
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The [[Eldar]] fear that if <s>the Emperor were to die a new [[Eye of Terror]] would be opened and Chaos would take over EVERYTHING!!!</s> {{BLAM}} {{BLAM| Heresy! The Emprah cannot die!}}<br />
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[[File:Climax.jpg|250px|right|thumb|A typical father and son chat between Empy and Horus.]]<br />
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After he was nearly killed by his son, he was placed on the Golden Throne and hasn't been able to move for the past few millennia. Most of the fluff maintains that his existence on a day-to-day basis since then is a living hell (By comparison, the process of making astropaths would be like a trip to the dentist). It's literally the mother/father/uncle/2nd Cousin of all mindfucks, so bad that even a Inquisitor would likely go insane as a result (or anybody else for that matter) and yet he continues...<br />
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Why? He may be the universe's most powerful vegetable, but that doesn't mean that he can just sit down and die. Oh no, it's exactly the opposite. It gives him a fuckton of work to do, and along with being the lighthouse of the warp guiding the Imperial Navy, he also needs to make the aforementioned astropaths, <s>as well as keeping all the nasties of the warp where they're supposed to be and not spilling over into reality and make the lives of all human beings miserable.</s> Or perhaps a combination of Tzeentch perpetuating the stalemate and the influence of Necron technology is doing that. He also does it for the good of man. (sounds kinda familiar, don't it?) In the last year of M41 techpriests discovered that the Golden Throne is failing and the Emperor is DYING so look up! there is a 50/50 chance of the Emperor returning to life.... Or dying forever and everyone in the Imperium becoming a <s>Chaos sex toy/Punching Bag/plague vector/science experiment.</s> {{BLAM}} {{BLAM| Heresy! THE EMPRAH IS IMMORTAL AND HE WILL PROTECT US!}} Pfft, as if [[Cegorach]], [[Tzeentch]], or the [[C'tan|Deceiver]] are going to let one of their paradox poker buddies die.<br />
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:''"The Emperor was a brilliant scientist, a powerful warrior, and great psyker, but he was a terrible [[Venus' Burn|father...]]"<br />
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:-[[Roboute Guilliman|Rawbutt Girlyman]], Primarch of the Ultramarines, pointing out the obvious.<br />
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Every Saturday night the [[Emperor]] gets together with [[Tzeentch]], [[C'tan|the Deceiver]], and [[Cegorach]] for a game of Paradox Poker. They have to use a new pocket dimension for each of these games because the sheer amount of dickery and [[JUST AS PLANNED]] causes the dimension they play in to collapse. Nobody has ever won one of these games. Any who try to watch these games without possessing similar mastery of the fine art of dickery and [[JUST AS PLANNED]] will find that their heads will explode into a shower of [[Necrons]](even though it was they who built the damn pockety dimension...), [[Eldar]], [[Space Marines|SPESS MEHREENS]], and Daemons as they cannot comprehend the true form of the game.<br />
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But the Emperor is disappoint, because he wanted the Imperium to be a utopi-{{BLAM}} {{BLAM| HERESY THE IMPERIUM IS THE PERFECT VISION OF THE EMPRAH THE WAY IT IS!}} {{BLAM}} {{BLAM| HERESY THIS MAN IS AN IMMPOSTER AND THE EMPEROR HAS NOT YET PERFECTED THE IMPERIUM AND WILL DO THAT ONCE HE IS RESURRECTED!}} {{BLAM}} {{BLAM}} {{BLAM|I apologise for that, reader. You may continue. FOR THE EMPRAH!}}<br />
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For all his desire to guide and protect humanity, there is a lot of proof, particularly from the Horus Heresy books and some short stories, that the Emperor was not Space Jesus, but Space Hitler. He [[Nazi| declared humanity the superiors of xenos]], setting the basis for humanity's genocidal xenophobia (and the hatred of nearly every xenos race in turn); planned to destroy all mention of religion by force of arms if needed; planned to reunite humanity under his rule no matter what anyone else wanted/thought, again by force of arms if needed; cared little for the primarchs as his actual sons, thinking of them as generals and tools rather than his sons, screwing over several in his efforts to recruit them (hence causing their later betrayals); carried out many unethical and morally questionable experiments; and so on. His reign killed more humans than the entire rest of humanities dictators in history up to that point ''combined'', then ''multiplied'', and that's assuming you don't count all the other sapient organisms that might or might not have deserved it.<br />
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It can be said that the Emperor was such an asshole due to the state of the universe he founded himself in and that he acted as he did believing small sacrifices were all for the greater good ([[Tau|Now where have we heard that before?]]) but that doesn't change the fact he began a crusade that would have culled billions and destroy entire xenos species even if the campaign had gone well and not ended in the Horus Heresy (assuming that the Emperor would have allowed it to end at all).<br />
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To be fair, the whole reason humanity (and the Emperor) hates aliens is because during the Age of Strife, numerous xenos races exploited humanity's weakness by raiding, looting, and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Then <s>Hitler</s> the Emperor comes along and decides that the best way to stop it from happening again is to wipe out all xenos that might pose a threat to the fledgling Imperium. However, those few xenos species that did not pose an immediate threat to humanity were usually made protectorates similar to the Tau government (unless they resisted, were in the way, possessed a planet, influenced human culture at all, or were intelligent at all, in which case the results were predictable). Ever since his ascension, the Imperium forgot about the part where harmless aliens are tolerated and just thinks they should all be killed. But on the other hand, [[Orks|the]] [[Necrons|most]] [[Tyranids|common]] [[Eldar|xenos]] [[Dark Eldar|are]] [[Eldrad|dicks]] and aren't exactly willing to buddy up with the Imperium themselves.<br />
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==Worship of the Emperor==<br />
[[File:646545.jpg|thumb|300px|What the Emperor looked like before Horus decided to bitchslap him. Notice the giant skull. How did that skull get so big? Is it a plastic faux-skull, or is it an alien skull? Anyway, back on topic. You don't get to see the Emperor out of armor very often.]]<br />
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Humans worship the Emperor as the one true God. If you're an atheist, then he's the closest thing they have to a proper caring and nurturing god who actually cares about his subjects, so you might as well let them. Humans are more than willing to die in his name or skullfuck the next guy who says anything remotely bad about him. Now, the only reason the Imperium worship the Emperor is that after his fight with Horus and his internment into the Golden Throne, they pretty much forgot what the Emperor taught them, <s>including draining the power of the Chaos Gods by eliminating all kinds of religion and remaining an atheist empire.</s> This is partially false. Ol' Empy did not actually tell anyone of the Chaos Gods as part of his plan to starve them, withholding the information even from the Primarchs in hopes of protecting them from corruption. ''Ignorance is bliss!'' Unfortunately this became part of why the Horus Heresy happened in the first place, as while not knowing the existance of the chaos gods could have prevented his servants from falling to the temptation of worshipping some very REAL gods, it also left them without the knowledge of what to do when faced with the influence of said deities. Plus, it's pretty damn hard to fight against something if you don't know that it exists. The Horus Heresy novels also mentioned the Interex, another atheist empire who do understand that Chaos existed but treated it secularly and scientifically, rendering them more proficient with dealing with Chaos than the Imperium.<br />
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The Emperor was actually AGAINST any kind of religion as part of his [[Imperial Truth]] and plan for mankind to be [[Star Trek|a utopia of science and reason]]-- even if the object of worship would be himself like when he told [[Lorgar]] to fuck off with the God-Emperor worship. <s>Although, the Emperor was only half-right about this because he didn't realize that Chaos runs off emotion rather than worship, thus his starvation plan wouldn't have been ultimately successful in the long run. While Chaos does draw more power from direct worship to them, even if worship of them is stopped at large, they can still draw from the everyday emotions.</s> His plan wouldn't have killed the Gods but would have severely weakened their influence on the Materium. Without cultists, there would be no summoning of demons. Without uncontrolled psykers, few possessions would occur. Thus, without religion and warp travel, the Chaos Gods and their minions wouldn't be able to access the Materium (for the most part). Hence why the Emperor tried to access the Webway where Mankind can be able to travel through space while minimizing exposure to Chaos. Who gives a shit about the Ruinous Powers if they're stuck in the Warp? <br />
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However, he made a critical mistake in disregarding the human need to believe in something greater than oneself, and despite his best efforts with the Imperial Truth reason and logic simply weren't enough to fill the place of religion. Ironically, his solution was not to suppress faith but to redirect it towards something else, intended to be the idea of the Imperium, but because of his own unmatched psychic powers and enigmatic nature that "something else" ended up being the Emperor himself. After he went off being the most powerful psychic vegetable in the universe, and lost direct control of the Imperium of man, belief in him sort of helped the Imperium stand together, even if it basically dropped 99.9% of humanity's IQ in the process- with the warp being what it is, the act of worshipping the Emperor supercharged his power in the Immaterium to the point of being truly godlike, even while his body is stuck in its current state of near-death. The Imperium's faith in the Emperor is basically their biggest anchor of bravery and perseverance in a universe where humanity is constantly beset by:<br />
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*[[Tyranids|Unimaginably massive swarms of voracious space lizards who exist only to feed and grow]]...<br />
*[[Necron|Aeons-old zombie-terminator robots from space set on culling all life from the galaxy]]...<br />
*[[C'Tan|Diabolical celestial beings literally as old as the stars themselves whose single concern is harvesting souls for consumption]]...<br />
*[[Orks|Green-hued xeno-barbarians whose pastimes, ambitions, job skills, and dreams can basically be summed-up as bludgeoning]]...<br />
*[[Tau|Technologically advanced space communists wanting to assimilate everyone in their quasi Hindu-Communist empire and who take after Billy Mays]]...<br />
*[[Eldar|Snooty and uncaring space elves that can read minds and who eat, sleep, and live in planet-sized battle cruisers]]...<br />
*[[Dark Eldar|psychotic, hedonistic space elves who routinely torture others to the point of death for sheer amusement before grinding their remains into refined cocaine]]...<br />
*[[chaos|Fanatical zealots that knowingly devote themselves to all that is insane and evil]]...<br />
*[[daemon|Nightmare horrors made real who will rape and/or eat any sentient being they get their goat-hooves on]]...<br />
*[[Chaos Space Marines|Deformed, demented traitors clad in power armor and aided by the evilest forms of weaponry and sorcery ever conceived <s>Matt Ward</s> Fuck you, he's your problem. Not ours.]]<br />
*[[Rak'gol|Homicidal alien, lizard, insect, cyborg type monster-pirates that horribly kill you for fun]]...<br />
*[[Games Workshop|Malignant, omnipotent intelligences from beyond the cosmos, exerting all the power at their disposal to prevent any faction from breaking the stalemate or upsetting the dreadful status quo]]...<br />
*[[Sly Marbo|And fuck knows who the guy in the cardboard box is]]...<br />
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Without their faith in the Emperor after his internment into the Golden Throne, the fragments of the Imperium would have fought against each other and themselves again like in the pre-Great Crusade days and subsequently devolved into what they were before the Emperor liberated them. So yes, much like IRL religion, it gives them hope and courage to fight on and survive in a universe that leaves the [[grimdark]] faucet running everyday.<br />
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It's worth noting that good ol' Empy wouldn't have had nearly as much of a problem with all this unwanted worship if he hadn't, just as a quick example, insisted on wearing horrifyingly ornate solid gold armour and a big glowy halo at all times. Or on carrying a flaming sword of righteousness. Or on building continent-sized monuments to his vanity. Or on decking all his personal troops and favored genetic experiments in as much bling as they could possibly carry. Or on being <s>nine</s> eleven fucking feet tall. If you look like space-Jesus and act like space-Jesus, people are going to take those observations to their extreme conclusions, like what Lorgar did when he wrote the ''Lectitio Divinitatus'', which can be summarized as "Ordinary men can't blow up suns and carry big glowy halos at all times, only a God, therefore the Emprah is God." This is made even more relevant given that the fluff very strongly implies that the Emperor ''is'' Jesus.<br />
<br />
That said, to Games Workshop's credit his being [[Ultramarines|buttfucked by his own Hubris and disregard for the humanity he claimed to be guiding]] in this manner was probably [[Grimdark|intentional as a classic tale of Greek Tragedy]].<br />
<br />
==The possible death of the Emperor==<br />
With the Golden Throne being constantly damaged and the Techpriests are too power-armor-on-head rebooted to do anything about it, it is certainly possible that the Emperor may die one day, which will obviously result in all of the Imperial worlds and factions to cry tears of disappointment and subsequently devolve into chaos. There are however, 3 possible outcomes of what will happen if the Emperor should ever die:<br />
<br />
===The new Eye of Terror===<br />
Conventional wisdom and the [[Eldar]], says that in the event that the Emperor dies, a new Eye of Terror will be created, plunging Holy Terra and all nearby planets into the Warp. Even the [[Ecclesiarchy]] agrees that if the Emperor were ever to die, humanity would be FUCKED at the barest minimum.<br />
<br />
This is supported by the fact that the '''Golden Throne''' ''(itself a portal to the Webway)'' was broken by [[Magnus]], causing a warp tear to occur on Terra which the Emperor has had to spend every second for the last 10,000 years concentrating on to keep it from getting any bigger (the [[Adeptus Custodes]] has spent the same amount of time chopping up daemons that jump through). If he were to die or his attention were to waver for too long it would grow and rip the Imperium apart.<br />
<br />
Additionally, a new Chaos God could be created, which will most certainly be a God of all the Grimdarkness in the galaxy, ensuring that it would eclipse all of the powers of the other Gods as the Emperor would finally be the God of all, this is especially true since nearly everything that is grimdark comes from Chaos and the entire WH40K setting is itself a massive pile of it... that or Malal would burst back into existence.<br />
Some also fear that a fifth Chaos God's presence would just crush reality as-is reverting everything back into the immaterium.<br />
<br />
===Regeneration===<br />
No, not the [[Doctor Who]] kind. The Horus Heresy novel 'Vulkan Lives' heavily implies that the Emperor is a [[Perpetual]] like John Grammaticus, Vulkan, Oll Persson and [[Anval Thawn]], all of who were able to survive things which should have completely obliterated them. So all he simply needs to do is die and wait a couple of hours/days and he'll be reborn again (in the "get up off the ground and dust himself off" sense). In theory, at least. Vulkan, for instance, was driven mad by the torturous experiences he had endured under the Night Haunter, and they were child's play compared to sitting in unthinkable agony unable to move or speak for ten thousand years rotting alive. However, a more commonly held belief is that he will get up, re-establish the [[Imperial Truth]], and just be a cool guy.<br />
<br />
In fact, a whole faction of the [[Inquisition]]: '''Thorianism''' exists to investigate this possibility, looking for possible signs that the Emperor's consciousness can be transferred elsewhere, allowing him to walk amongst men once more. (That said, they don't know about the existence of Perpetuals and would rather look for a new body to place the Emperor's soul into.)<br />
<br />
Opponents to Thorianism generally see that encouraging this is a terrible idea, as having the Emperor rise in a physical form would only cause a schism in the Imperium, as many people would not believe it to be true having been conditioned by the Ecclesiarchy over thousands of years, which would cause [[Horus Heresy|another major civil war]]. <br />
<br />
Not only that, but having him stand up to stretch his legs before the Golden Throne was fixed or have someone powerful enough to replace him would potentially cause the same result as a new Eye of Terror. As towards the end of the Horus Heresy, he only moved from the seat in the final battle when [[Malcador the Sigillite]] ''(the third most powerful "known" human psyker - after [[Magnus]])'' took his place temporarily, which was still enough to crumble him to dust.<br />
<br />
===The Star Child===<br />
Although years of GW's marketing and [[retcon|fluff upgrades]] have made the third claim rather dubious, many fa/tg/guys and optimists still hold out on the theory stating that when the Emperor screwed Horus's soul to the wall, part of the Emperor's soul was also cast into the Warp. This Emprasoul fragment is the Star Child, another god waiting to be reborn - or perhaps be reincarnated into human flesh. (anyone call for one master scout mcvenner) If the remains of the Emperor were ever to die, the tiny spark of soul left in his body would re-unite with the greater whole, and according to [[fluff|prophecy]], stalemate the four Chaos Gods while the races of the galaxy were left to battle it out in one last great Ragnarok scenario. <br />
<br />
This theory is tied closely to the <s>[[Sensei]]</s> Illuminati, a group of either supremely enlightened individuals or dangerous mutant heretic xenos-fuckers, depending on which side of the [[Inquisition]] you're on. The Illuminati plan to catch all of the Sensei and sacrifice them in the golden throne at the moment of Empra's death and <s>he will become the Sensei-Emprah(Numen). Yay!</s> {{BLAM|HERESY!!!}}<br />
<br />
The fluff revealed that the Illuminati were a minor Tzeench cult and the sensei were effectively brainwashed soon-to-be sacrifices in an attempt to bring Tzeench to the materium. Needless to say, they have been purged by the Inquisition.<br />
<br />
However, more recent '''(2006 onwards)''' fluff from [[Xenology]] puts a glimmer of hope on this theory by suggesting providing an image of an "unborn child surrounded in starlight" as one of the three future survivors of the galaxy's conflicts (the other's being [[Khaine]] and the [[Cegorach|Laughing God]]). While it can be equally suggested that this actually refers to [[Ynnead]] who is the Eldar god that shall be born from the webway when the last [[Eldar]] has died, it is now becoming clearer that Ynnead and the Emperor's star child could be the same thing, particularly with the revelations in '''Horus Heresy''' that the Golden Throne is a doorway into the webway itself.<br />
<br />
Further evidence to support this is the even more recent ''Mechanicum'' novel, where a faction of Mars attempted to access the aetheric wellspring of ALL KNOWLEDGE ''(read: "God")'' which was hidden away within the warp. They hoped to access this knowledge using a device called the '''Akashic Reader''' which operated using identical energies to that of the [[Astronomican]], considering that at the time it was powered solely by the energies of the Emperor it suggests that his divinity was seeded in the warp well in advance of his enthronement, simply awaiting a time for it to reconnect with him.<br />
<br />
Erm, there are some, considering the rest of the fluff, agreements and disagreements with this. The Mechanicus might find themselves tapping into the dreams of the sleeping Void Dragon on their planet, who the Emperor KO'd and put there to inspire humanity to expand into the stars, and since a being born of the stars would describe the C'tan very well, they may find some of what they are looking for, such as a complete STC formula, understanding of Necron technology and so forth, which the Tech-Priests might interpret as the knowledge of the Machine God Ommissiah. Thus, and out of fear of the Ecclesiarchy, the discovery would result in further distance between Mars and Terra. If revealed to the rest of the Imperium, the theological, and thus propaganda, complications would lead to another civil war. Ynnead has yet to be described as surrounded in starlight, however the connection between Ynnead and the Emperor is certainly possible and in this theory, very believable, for they both have similar goals with similar drives: compassionately felt/personal pain induced desires for vengeance and to bring the best for their people and rid the galaxy of the Ruinous Powers. It would not be surprising if in the Emperor's death the result would allow one faction or the other to slaughter all the Eldar and thus starve Slaanesh of super sensitive souls and put an end to Excess as a Warp Power, which 'devoured' (more like not enough Eldar beleived in the power of their gods) much of the Eldar Pantheon, who would then be finally allowed to die, and Isha would be able to fight Nurgle on a more even footing, and due to the past leaving residue on the Warp, these dead souls and gods would become Ynnead, just as the dead individual the Emperor would live on in whatever place the Emperor gave humanity in the Empyrean, and the two together with Khaela Mensha Khaine, Isha, Cegorach, with the Chaotic and unintended aid of the Gork and Mork brothers, would have an advantage over the Ruinous Powers and stalemate the Shadow in the Warp of the Hive Mind, and thus balance Order and Chaos and allow good and evil to become the main precedent of conflict. Ynnead in his/her/it's own right would be the God of Order of Memory, Karma, the Dead, and Rebirth.<br />
Opposition as it would stand:<br />
Khaela Mensha Khaine is an alternative to Khorne<br />
The Emperor is an alternative to Necoho, the God of Atheism<br />
Isha and Ynnead are alternatives to Nurgle<br />
Cegorarch is an alternative to Tzeentch with a Gork and Mork buffer zone (this is because Cegorarch, Gork and Mork, and Tzeentch are both indeterministic when it comes to planning but have radically different approaches and thus morality of all things, welcome to post-indeterminate philosophy)<br />
The Hive Mind and Malak nullify each other (The Hive Mind is just hungry while Malak is a nihilist, and the Tyranids are the most radical force of Order)<br />
<br />
== The Emperor's list of Things to do after Resurrection ==<br />
[[File:Emperor of mankind flaming sword armor.jpg|200px|right|thumb|Badass and glorious.]]<br />
<br />
''Too important to be a sub-section of this article; moved to its own article: '''[[Emperor's To-Do List]]'''''<br />
<br />
== Gallery ==<br />
<center><gallery><br />
File:Golden Throne-Imperial Webway.jpg|The Big E upon the Golden Throne (before the decay set in)<br />
File:Emperor of Mankind Classic Portrait face.jpg|The guiding light in the Imperium of Man shines forever bright<br />
Image:1220179589932.jpg|The Emperor protects man from all.<br />
File:Emperor of Mankind Contemplation.jpg|"Why IS IT that hot dogs come in packs of 8, and hot dog buns come in packs of 12?"<br />
Image:Horus and the Emperor.jpg|Son, I am disappoint.<br />
Image:Wh40k-emperor.jpg| Yearbook photo.<br />
Image:When you ruin his groove by Lutherniel.jpg| His groove, do not ruin it.<br />
File:Go Ahead Make My day Emperor.jpg|That is EXACTLY the same look that's on Batman's face when he's about to put the beatdown on someone!<br />
File:Emperor of Mankind model action figure.jpg|He makes for one helluva action figure<br />
Image:8.jpg|The Emperor of all Catkind! Nyuh!<br />
Image:1271118030729.jpg|Just imagine if the Chaos Gods didn't scatter the primarchs through out the galaxy... Wait where's that little scamp Omegon? (just off picture, sneaking up behind Guilliman)<br />
Image:God-Emperor_Goldlich.jpg|Death is no excuse to stop bein' pimp.<br />
File:God_Emperor_Interred_On_Golden_Throne.jpg|Thinking to himself, "I really, REALLY hate Horus!"<br />
Image:Emperor blackwhite.jpg|He might be the most powerful psychic vegetable in the universe but the Custodes can't give him a decent hygiene program.<br />
Image:The Immortal Emprah.jpg| Not so divine now, is he?<br />
Image:Emperor_miniature.jpg|Roll d6; stays on the field on seven or less<br />
Image:emperor_old.jpg|A real man never dies, even when he's killed.<br />
Image:emperor.png|Down but not out.<br />
Image:Emperormini.jpg|In all His miniature glory<br />
Image:Carrionlord.jpg|The Carrion Lord with his two left arms.<br />
File:Painting.jpg|This painting sold for $900, that lucky ca/tg/url...<br />
Image:slowemperor.jpg|Oh God-emperor, how did this get here? I am not good with computers.<br />
Image:Emperor_Sagan.jpg|Search your feelings, you know it to be true.<br />
Image:EmpsVSigmar.jpg| You all know you wanna see how this pans out!<br />
Image:Emprasque3.jpg|How do you kill what can not die?<br />
Image:Slavegirl Emperor.jpg|Emperor [[Rule 63]]! NO EXCEPTIONS!<br />
Image:Femprah.jpg|THE EMPEROR IS NOT A WOMAN! AND THIS ONE IS UGLY, TOO!<br />
Image:Femprah_by_Mr-Culexus.jpg|Oh, give it a fucking rest... <br />
Image:Emperor_upon_his_other_throne.jpg|Yeah. We get it. The Emperor sits upon the Golden 'Throne'.<br />
Image:1377291976783.jpg|Unbeknownst to many 40k fans, ol'Emps is fairly amicable when he meets an elf/eldar who isn't a complete failure. <br />
Image:First_Founding_Problems.jpg|Perhaps with a better armor design, Emps might not have been late for Horus's after school soccer games and things might have turned out differently. <br />
</gallery></center><br />
<br />
<hr/><br />
<blockquote><i><br />
We believe in one Lord,<br />
the Emperor, the Almighty,<br />
ruler of heaven and earth,<br />
of all that is, seen and unseen.<br />
We believe in one Lord, Emperor of Mankind,<br />
the only Lord of creation,<br />
eternally begotten of Humanity,<br />
Human from Human, Light from Light,<br />
true Lord from true Lord,<br />
begotten, not made,<br />
of one Being with Humanity;<br />
through him all things were made.<br />
For us and for our salvation<br />
he came down from heaven,<br />
was incarnate of the Holy Spirit<br />
and came among us.<br />
For our sake he has faced down Chaos;<br />
he withstood death and was enthroned.<br />
To this day he lives on<br />
in accordance with the Scriptures;<br />
he resides upon Mother Terra<br />
and is seated upon the throne of Humanity.<br />
He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,<br />
and his kingdom will have no end.<br />
<br />
We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Emperor, the giver of life,<br />
who proceeds from Humanity and the from Terra,<br />
who with Humanity and upon Terra is worshipped and glorified,<br />
who has spoken through the prophets.<br />
We believe in one holy true and divinely guided Ecclesiarchy.<br />
We acknowledge one path for the defense against Chaos.<br />
We look for the justice for our dead,<br />
and the life of the worlds to come.<br />
<tt>++ Ayhmen ++</tt></i></blockquote><br/><br />
-- the [[Creed]] of the Mankind's Council of Nicene of Holy Terra<br />
<br />
==See Also==<br />
* The [[Imperium]], for the empire he founded. <br />
* [[Sigmar]] Unberogen, his Warhammer Fantasy Battle counterpart<br />
*[http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/25959559/ This thread] which makes the Emperor even cooler.<br />
*[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z_2nM1GEllg/ A series on Youtube, it shows what would happen if the Emperor had a Text to Speech device.]<br />
{{Imperium}}<br />
[[Category:Gods]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Chaos_Gods&diff=118542Chaos Gods2014-06-16T21:54:27Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Mo'rcck, Phraz-Etar, Ans'l */</p>
<hr />
<div>The '''Chaos Gods''' are the gods which rule over the Realm of [[Chaos]] in [[Warhammer Fantasy Battles]] and the [[Warp]] in [[Warhammer 40,000]]. They love nothing so much as dicking with each other, except perhaps dicking with their mortal followers, and dicking EACH other (shhhh). Before they were gods, they were generally benevolent beings, when the Warp was a calm sea. Each one is formed by the emotions of living souls clumped together in the Warp/Realm of Chaos. Contrary to standard thought, they personify good attributes as well, and are powered as much by good as by bad. Even if said god started out entirely bad, in their eventual evolution as part of their natures, they will kill gods who represented entirely good things, and will gain not only their values, but their power by said value. Be aware many of the gods' values will and do intersect. This is as much due to the chaotic nature of the gods as it is to the multitude of emotions that make up the living.<br />
<br />
== Khorne ==<br />
{{Main|Khorne}}<br />
<br />
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE! MILK FOR THE KHORNE FLAKES! BUTTER FOR THE POP KHORNE! Oh, sorry. In case it wasn't obvious, Khorne is the god of battle, martial honour, and oh yeah, BLOOD! Although primarily formed from hate and rage, bravery and honour are also thrown in the mix. Also in the mix are mercy (in particular, mercy for those too weak to put up a fight), courage, regret, fear, athleticism, determination, daring, impulsiveness, and struggling onwards in the face of all odds.<br />
* Gender - DEFINITELY A MAN, AND DON'T YOU FORGET ITTTTT<br />
* Main Enemy - Slaanesh (Khorne considers him/her/it/hermaphrodite to be too frilly), although he's also not a big fan of Tzeentch (2tricky4me).<br />
* Bro god - Nurgle, although he doesn't seem to mind Khaela Mensha Khaine (they're probably the same thing, though)<br />
* Love Interest - <s>Slaanesh...oh so very tsundere for Slaanesh</s> {{BLAM|'''*sounds of killing* NO! FUCK YOU! ITS NOT TRUE!! ...not true... ... ... *sounds of demonic fapping*'''}}<br />
* Dedicated [[Chaos Space Marine]] Legion - The [[World Eaters]], other various chapters and bands of warriors dedicated themselves to him since. Also has IG-equivalent armies like the [[Blood Pact]].<br />
*[[Warriors of Chaos]] "Hero"/Chaos Tribe: Arbaal the Undefeated (ANGRY VIKINGS!! FUCK YEAH!!); Valkia the Bloody, Hrafn Untam, Haargroth the Blooded. Khorne also has an entire Norse confederation especially devoted to him known as the Aeslingr. <br />
* Sacred Number - 8<br />
<br />
== Nurgle ==<br />
{{Main|Nurgle}}<br />
<br />
Nurgle is the god of filth, pestilence, decay, and generally being a cool dude. Formed from despair and fear of death, acceptance and stoicism are also included. Other values include inevitability, empathy, kinship, happiness, struggle, love, tradition, mercy, and memory. Nurgle is also notable for being the only Chaos god that cares for his followers whatsoever, bordering on love (in fact, in 40k, he loves the [[Eldar]] goddess [[Isha]] so much that he [[grimdark|chained her up and force feeds her his new diseases]]... yeah, love sucks sometimes). <br />
* Gender - A (slob of a) man. A VERY fat one.<br />
* Main Enemy - Tzeentch, the paragon of HOPE and CHANGE, in opposition to Nurgle's representation of decay and inevitability.<br />
* Bro god - Khorne, mostly because Nurgle is the only Chaos god Khorne doesn't entirely hate.<br />
* Love Interest - His joy, wife [[Isha]]<br />
* Dedicated [[Chaos Space Marine]] Legion - The [[Death Guard]]. Has tons of other followers like the [[The Purge]] (omnicidal wackos who have no problem using chemical and virus weapons on helpless populations), [[Apostles of Contagion]] ([[Zombie Plague]] afficianados), the [[Lords of Decay]] (utterly loyal Marines sent to die in the Eye, holy fuck these guys made a direct assault on the Solar System and won Pluto), and human IG armies like the rebellion on [[Vraks]]<br />
* [[Warriors of Chaos]] "Hero"/Chaos Tribe: Festus the Leechlord (this guy used to a doctor in the Empire; he's not even a Northman). The Crow Brothers of the Bjornlings are especially devoted to him also (Festus leads these guys). <br />
* Sacred Number - 7<br />
<br />
== Slaanesh ==<br />
{{Main|Slaanesh}}<br />
<br />
Slaanesh is the god/dess of pain, pleasure, and perfection... or, in other words, a god of [[1d4chan|emotions formed from emotions]], not all of which are bad. In 40k (WHFB didn't elaborate how Slaanesh was born, so we can only assume s/he manifested normally like the other Gods), the [[Eldar]] created him/her/it/hermaphrodite by having so many damn orgies they tore a hole in space. I shit thee not. Formed mainly from hedonism and excess, love and creativity are also attributes of Slaanesh. Others facets include kindness, tranquility, jealousy, sensuality, DRUGS, expression, individuality, DUBSTEP, joy, peaceability, HEAVY METAL, and admiration.<br />
* Gender - Whatever you want it to be baby! In WH Fantasy you'll see illustrations of a lecherous old hag / old man / old bits-of-both; in WH40k depictions are of a young flamboyant hermaphrodite/ transsexual.<br />
* Main enemy - The brutish Khorne, obviously. H-he never calls...<br />
* Bro god - Tzeentch, although that's mostly because he's the least icky of the Chaos gods. Her friendship with Nurgle is a bit questionable since he did steal [[Isha]] during Slaanesh's proverbial....and literal, raping of the former Eldar empire, though it isn't shown anywhere that Slaanesh still openly detests Nurgle for that (Hell, at one point, their daemons temporarily joined forces together). Generally the most open to working with the others.<br />
* Love Interest - All of them. Still pines for Isha, and is depressed no one ever seems to love him/her back. Messes around with Khorne. Gave up on Nurgle after he got married. For a long time has been pining for Tzeentch of all people, but she can never seem to make him think she likes him as more than just a friend. Basically, she's the hot chick who got friendzoned by the nerd. But she won't give up!<br />
* Dedicated [[Chaos Space Marine]] Legion - [[Emperor's Children]]. Also has others to call on like The [[Flawless Host]] (their drugs make Emperor's Children ones look like a weak store coffee), [[Violaters]] (these guys body sculpt themselves enough to make a [[VtM|Tzimisce]] well up with pride), as well as, again, various IG-equivalent armies.<br />
* [[Warriors of Chaos]] "Hero"/Chaos Tribe: Sigvald the Magnificent (he really is quite magnificent...), Syrkaar of Sortsvinear. <s>The Varg tribes serve him.</s> NO WE DON'T. <br />
*Sacred Number - 6<br />
<br />
== Tzeentch ==<br />
{{Main|Tzeentch}}<br />
<br />
Tzeentch is the god of [[Just as planned]] and magic. Tzeentch is formed from paranoia and plotting, but also, amazingly enough, hope and ambition. Other values include trust, happiness, dissatisfaction, aspiration, progress, knowledge, learning, protection, will, and change.<br />
* Gender - A nerdy man<br />
* Main Enemy - Nurgle, who won't get off his damn ass to do anything, refuses to change...<br />
* Bro god(dess)- Slaanesh, who isn't as brutal as Khorne and not as much of a lazy bastard as Nurgle. Plus, she's nice to little Tzeentch!<br />
* Love Interest - Though he feels out of her league, hopes that one day Slaanesh will notice him. Kind of wishes the Deceiver, Cegorach, and the Emperor were girls. T-then surely he could impress them, yes!<br />
* Dedicated [[Chaos Space Marine]] Legion - [[Thousand Sons]]. Unlike the other gods, Tzeentch apparently doesn't have any IG-equivalent armies dedicated to him in particular. Most likely the reason for this is because if a Guardsman is going to turn to a specific Chaos god, the prospect of [[Khorne|power and unending glorious conquest]], [[Nurgle|freedom from all pain and suffering]], or [[Slaanesh|all the booze, drugs and whores you can handle and then some]] are much more attractive options than becoming some nerd's pawn.<br />
* [[Warriors of Chaos]] "Hero": <s>Vilitch the Curseling</s> Elgrim Van Horstmann. No Chaos Tribe seems to revere him to any exceptional extent. <br />
* Sacred Number - 9<br />
<br />
== The Other Ones ==<br />
Older editions of Warhammer Fantasy and 40k mention several lesser Chaos gods. Nowadays, they only appear in WFB (and even then, only sparingly), with some (the Horned Rat and Hashut in particular) generally considered to be separate from the "main" Chaos pantheon.<br />
<br />
=== Be'lakor ===<br />
In [[Warhammer Fantasy Battle]], Be'lakor was one of the earliest Chaos warlords, leading vast hordes of Daemons to ravage the world long before the Elves rose up against them. He impressed the Chaos Gods so much they turned him into a [[Daemon Prince]], the first time they ever did that to a mortal follower of Chaos Gods. He is still among the most powerful of all Daemon Princes and is able to grant his followers unique magic powers. But then he grew proud and considerd himself better than the Chaos Gods themselves, so Tzeentch cursed him for his arrogance. Tzeentch made him be the one to crown Everchosens of Chaos while never getting to become the Everchosen himself, which pisses him off to no end.. With the latest Everchosen [[Archaon]]; Be'lakor was once again forced to crown the Everchosen of Chaos with the final artifact. Be'lakor took a big part of the [[Storm of Chaos]] campaign, but that has since been retconned. Although he still shows up from time to time, he no longer appears to be quite as powerful as he once was, although he is still a Daemon Prince of [[Chaos Undivided]], which is a massive accomplishment in and of itself. <br />
<br />
In [[Warhammer 40,000]], Be'lakor was the first Daemon Prince, as well as the first (and last) Daemon Prince created through the action of all four Chaos Gods ([[Derp|apparently]] [[Lorgar]] and [[Perturabo]] aren't any more), and quickly proved to be difficult to control even at the best of times. Apparently his creation gave him the Daemonic equivalent of daddy issues and now he spends most of his time trying to kill all other Champions of Chaos, including other Daemon Princes. The Chaos Gods tolerate him mostly because his wild-card status makes him an excellent pawn in their power struggles- something Be'lakor himself is completely unaware of (as he thinks he still has free will and just wants to cement his position as Chaos' sole champion). Recently, he's shown up to "help" with [[Abaddon]]'s [[Black Crusade]]s by giving him [[Troll|seemingly helpful advice that often leads to unexpectedly heavy losses]], all in an attempt to undermine his credibility (well, more so than he does on his own). In a stunning display of insight, Abaddon saw through his ruse, but allowed him to remain within the Black Legion in order to keep tabs on him and better prepare for his inevitable betrayal. The Imperium isn't even aware that he exists, as Be'lakor has been very careful about concealing his presence from history (with the unwitting help of a Magos who learned just enough about him to know that he exists, but not enough to realize that he's a Daemon Prince). Playing in a band really doesn't help his concealment much though[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOiQOOrj-fY].<br />
<br />
=== Hashut ===<br />
<br />
Hashut apparently means "Father of Darkness" in Dwarfen, which naturally means he's the god of the [[Chaos Dwarfs]]. And if his followers are any indication, he's also god of penis-compensating hats.<br />
<br />
=== The Horned Rat ===<br />
<br />
{{Main|Horned Rat}}<br />
<br />
This otherwise-unnamed deity is patron of the [[Skaven]], and god of...well, rats. Also disease, mutations, etc., but mostly rats. The Horned Rat once appeared in material form; he's the only Chaos god to do so. Of course, in Skaven fashion, he just ate a ton of the Skaven present, gave some orders and left; the Skaven only serve him out of fear, even though their belief in him only makes him stronger. He left then with a warpstone monolith containing the Skaven equivalent of the Ten Commandments.<br />
<br />
=== Malal === <br />
<br />
{{Main|Malal}}<br />
<br />
Malal is a renegade Chaos god that only appeared in one comic for Fantasy. He is the god of fractiousness and dissent, which, given the company he keeps, makes him a tad redundant. That being said, he did have awesome champions who lived solely to hunt down the greatest champions of the other gods, which is pretty [[Awesome]]. Sadly (or not, depending on your opinion), [[Games Workshop]] idiotically lost the rights to his name, so he's been more or less retconned. Except now he <i>might</i> be back in 40k, with a [[Chaos Space Marine]] warband called the Sons of Malice who worship a god called Malice...who just happen to wear a color scheme of black and white, and just happen to have a symbol of a bisected skull, and who's premier Chaos weapon specializes in killing Daemons. But nope, don't you dare say they worship Malal.<br />
<br />
=== Mo'rcck, Phraz-Etar, Ans'l ===<br />
<br />
Puns on the last names of sci-fi and fantasy author Michael Moorcock (from whom the idea of [[Chaos]] as a fundamental force in the world was blatently stolen/took inspiration from, and don't anyone ever say "borrow for a while" since even the author and Games Workshop have admitted it, artist Frank Frazetta (who drew a lot of movie and comic book posters, especially in sci-fi and fantasy), and Citadel Miniatures founder Bryan Ansell (who wrote several of the [[Rogue Trader (Sourcebook)|First Edition]] rulebooks). These guys helped set the tone of the early [[Warhammer 40,000]] universe (purposefully or not), including the propensity of putting spikes on [[Chaos]] things. Games Workshop decided to pay homage in the (initial) Third Edition [[Codex]]: [[Chaos Space Marines]], which mentioned that Chaos Space Marines often put "spiky bits" on their armour in praise of these three gods. They were never mentioned anywhere else, and probably shouldn't be considered "cannonical"... not that canonicity counts for much in 40k anyway.<br />
Although, how it can be stolen is actually of interest, since Chaos Theory and it's relatives, nihilism, indeterminism, and anarchy all have origins in the idea that life was created from Chaos. In Ancient Greek religion/philosophy (typically Stoic), depending, Kaos (Chaos), was a living force that travelled the universe, crashing into planets and bringing life as a result. The universe, erstwhile, is definable in some way by a logic of order called Logos, which, interpreted as there is some form of determinism we can ascertain, is the idea that really drives any sort of science at this point especially in the quantum region of physics. <br />
Chaos has some sort of order to it. Also known as there is a method to my/your/his/her/it's/their madness.<br />
These two do not necessarily conflict. In Egyptian mythology, the interpretation is quite different. Chaos, or the World Snake Apophis, Prince of Chaos, which is from what demons are born (and thus, the whole demon-devil disparity in D&D and 40k). This force, since it is naturally manifesting all forms of possibility, created Order in the form of Ma'at, which is also Virtue, and in the oldest interpretations, the chief of the pantheon, a goddess. Ra and then Osiris and then Horus was the steward of her material goals. In this way, a monarch, who was the avatar of one of the gods, and especially the Pharaohs and the Queen who were supposed to be manifestations of Horus and Isis respectively, held the title Steward of Ma'at. This however, was a tradition of any meaning in relation to virtue quickly lost in the establishment of the Old Kingdom. <br />
In Hindu/Buddhist mythology, the Asuras (Chaos) and the Devas (Order) constantly tug at a cosmic snake coiled around a mountain on the primordial ocean to continue the process of creation and destruction in the current universe, the third attempt, the previous being either to chaotic or too orderly. Supposedly, the two sides get along in order to balance equilibrium until they start arguing over the moral principles disrupted by what it is happening, and it is suggested there is a way to transcend order and chaos, which the Buddhists suggest, in part, as enlightenment. Again, the Wizards take it to another level of coneception, the alignment chart, which proposes that good or evil can exist with a balance of law and chaos and that law and chaos can be independent of good and evil and that it is possible to be completely independent of any form of morality by being true neutral. Chaos and Order today, and Chaos Theory to boot, are used for economics, understanding politics, psychology, and so on.<br />
Transformers takes the Universal Morals born of Aligned Morals born Order born of Chaos theory born of All and runs with it. Primus, the God of Order, who is present in almost every universe and multiple and seeks to maintain balance and create is born of a split from Unicron, a singular force of Chaos that devours the universe. When Unicron accomplishes this feat, the end of consumption results in a formation of Order, vice versa. Both are minute in power compared to the One, Unicron's creator, who is all things or created all things in this multiverse omniverse continue to verse to infinity.<br />
So yes, GW used the name without permission, and that is wrong. Beyond that, how do you immoralize creating characters that see chaos as a fundamental force in the world? Who should have the intellectual property rights? Pre-history Proto-Indo-European civilizations, since all the ideas in the ancient world effectively originate from there and before that Africa?<br />
<br />
=== Necoho ===<br />
<br />
[[File:Necoho_Revealed.png|500px|thumb|right|[[/tg/]] has recently deduced Necoho's true identity.]]<br />
<br />
Necoho is the god of atheism and one of the other minor gods invented as a replacement for Malal. Stupid as it sounds, it actually works, as Chaos is a reflection of all human beliefs and emotions, including, paradoxically, disbelief. He generally works to make religious movements disappears and wears a permanent expression of comic amusement, as he fucking knows he's a walking, talking paradox.<br />
<br />
Note that Necoho was introduced in two [[splatbook]]s for [[Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay]] 2rd Edition, so his current canonicity is doubtful, to say the least. That being said, he has been mentioned sporadically since then, such as the [[Gotrek & Felix]] novel ''Road of Skulls'', which is more than can be said for Zuvassin.<br />
<br />
=== Urlf ===<br />
<br />
Urlf isn't a name. It's the last fucking death cry a guy makes when you gut him. That should tell you all you need to know. Anyway, this guy used to be a Norscan (like most of the daemon princes on this list) and was elevated to princehood by Khorne for exceptional badassery. Before his ascension, he was a massive, tall, bearded, Clint Eastwood-type Chaos Champion and was a chieftain of the Snaegr clan of Aeslingr. He's so fucking powerful that he was able to create his own lesser daemons and can bless warriors with the Mark and mutations of Khorne. Urlf has his own summoning days like most powerful daemon princes, and is usually worshiped as a lesser deity of Chaos by those who serve his master, Khorne. He has a short story in the 7th edition Chaos army book, where he muses on the fuck-you nature of time in the Warp and remarks on how the new Chieftain of the Snaegr resembles one of the sons he fathered in his mortal life. He also blesses the new chief with Khorne's mark and turns him into a monstrous cross [[Awesome|between a Bloodletter and a Chaos Champion]]. <br />
<br />
=== Zuvassin ===<br />
<br />
Zuvassin is one of the two minor gods invented as a replacement for Malal. He just likes to see shit fall apart, specifically nonphysical stuff like schemes and lives - in other words, he's the god of [[not as planned]]. He's the guy who makes all the bad shit happen in infomercials. Generally, he makes sure that Murphy's Law is always enforced in the most spectacular possible ways. He doesn't have many worshippers, as he makes sure to fuck up whatever they're planning too.<br />
<br />
Note that Zuvassin was only included in two [[splatbook]]s for [[Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay]] 2rd Edition, so his current canonicity is doubtful, to say the least.<br />
<br />
== Fan-made gods ==<br />
<br />
=== The Box God ===<br />
<br />
This minor deity of Chaos is so unimportant that nobody even knows it's actual name or appearance. The only known worshiper is [[Firaeveus Carron]] who would sacrifice the [[Metal Boxes]] of his enemies to this god after a battle.<br />
<br />
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nHeL6OGE6k The Box God's early years.]<br />
<br />
I AM THE BOOOOOX GOD! BEWARE!<br />
<br />
{{Template:ChaosGods}}<br />
[[Category:Warhammer 40,000]][[Category:Chaos]][[Category:Gods]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Chaos_Gods&diff=118541Chaos Gods2014-06-16T21:52:35Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Mo'rcck, Phraz-Etar, Ans'l */</p>
<hr />
<div>The '''Chaos Gods''' are the gods which rule over the Realm of [[Chaos]] in [[Warhammer Fantasy Battles]] and the [[Warp]] in [[Warhammer 40,000]]. They love nothing so much as dicking with each other, except perhaps dicking with their mortal followers, and dicking EACH other (shhhh). Before they were gods, they were generally benevolent beings, when the Warp was a calm sea. Each one is formed by the emotions of living souls clumped together in the Warp/Realm of Chaos. Contrary to standard thought, they personify good attributes as well, and are powered as much by good as by bad. Even if said god started out entirely bad, in their eventual evolution as part of their natures, they will kill gods who represented entirely good things, and will gain not only their values, but their power by said value. Be aware many of the gods' values will and do intersect. This is as much due to the chaotic nature of the gods as it is to the multitude of emotions that make up the living.<br />
<br />
== Khorne ==<br />
{{Main|Khorne}}<br />
<br />
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE! MILK FOR THE KHORNE FLAKES! BUTTER FOR THE POP KHORNE! Oh, sorry. In case it wasn't obvious, Khorne is the god of battle, martial honour, and oh yeah, BLOOD! Although primarily formed from hate and rage, bravery and honour are also thrown in the mix. Also in the mix are mercy (in particular, mercy for those too weak to put up a fight), courage, regret, fear, athleticism, determination, daring, impulsiveness, and struggling onwards in the face of all odds.<br />
* Gender - DEFINITELY A MAN, AND DON'T YOU FORGET ITTTTT<br />
* Main Enemy - Slaanesh (Khorne considers him/her/it/hermaphrodite to be too frilly), although he's also not a big fan of Tzeentch (2tricky4me).<br />
* Bro god - Nurgle, although he doesn't seem to mind Khaela Mensha Khaine (they're probably the same thing, though)<br />
* Love Interest - <s>Slaanesh...oh so very tsundere for Slaanesh</s> {{BLAM|'''*sounds of killing* NO! FUCK YOU! ITS NOT TRUE!! ...not true... ... ... *sounds of demonic fapping*'''}}<br />
* Dedicated [[Chaos Space Marine]] Legion - The [[World Eaters]], other various chapters and bands of warriors dedicated themselves to him since. Also has IG-equivalent armies like the [[Blood Pact]].<br />
*[[Warriors of Chaos]] "Hero"/Chaos Tribe: Arbaal the Undefeated (ANGRY VIKINGS!! FUCK YEAH!!); Valkia the Bloody, Hrafn Untam, Haargroth the Blooded. Khorne also has an entire Norse confederation especially devoted to him known as the Aeslingr. <br />
* Sacred Number - 8<br />
<br />
== Nurgle ==<br />
{{Main|Nurgle}}<br />
<br />
Nurgle is the god of filth, pestilence, decay, and generally being a cool dude. Formed from despair and fear of death, acceptance and stoicism are also included. Other values include inevitability, empathy, kinship, happiness, struggle, love, tradition, mercy, and memory. Nurgle is also notable for being the only Chaos god that cares for his followers whatsoever, bordering on love (in fact, in 40k, he loves the [[Eldar]] goddess [[Isha]] so much that he [[grimdark|chained her up and force feeds her his new diseases]]... yeah, love sucks sometimes). <br />
* Gender - A (slob of a) man. A VERY fat one.<br />
* Main Enemy - Tzeentch, the paragon of HOPE and CHANGE, in opposition to Nurgle's representation of decay and inevitability.<br />
* Bro god - Khorne, mostly because Nurgle is the only Chaos god Khorne doesn't entirely hate.<br />
* Love Interest - His joy, wife [[Isha]]<br />
* Dedicated [[Chaos Space Marine]] Legion - The [[Death Guard]]. Has tons of other followers like the [[The Purge]] (omnicidal wackos who have no problem using chemical and virus weapons on helpless populations), [[Apostles of Contagion]] ([[Zombie Plague]] afficianados), the [[Lords of Decay]] (utterly loyal Marines sent to die in the Eye, holy fuck these guys made a direct assault on the Solar System and won Pluto), and human IG armies like the rebellion on [[Vraks]]<br />
* [[Warriors of Chaos]] "Hero"/Chaos Tribe: Festus the Leechlord (this guy used to a doctor in the Empire; he's not even a Northman). The Crow Brothers of the Bjornlings are especially devoted to him also (Festus leads these guys). <br />
* Sacred Number - 7<br />
<br />
== Slaanesh ==<br />
{{Main|Slaanesh}}<br />
<br />
Slaanesh is the god/dess of pain, pleasure, and perfection... or, in other words, a god of [[1d4chan|emotions formed from emotions]], not all of which are bad. In 40k (WHFB didn't elaborate how Slaanesh was born, so we can only assume s/he manifested normally like the other Gods), the [[Eldar]] created him/her/it/hermaphrodite by having so many damn orgies they tore a hole in space. I shit thee not. Formed mainly from hedonism and excess, love and creativity are also attributes of Slaanesh. Others facets include kindness, tranquility, jealousy, sensuality, DRUGS, expression, individuality, DUBSTEP, joy, peaceability, HEAVY METAL, and admiration.<br />
* Gender - Whatever you want it to be baby! In WH Fantasy you'll see illustrations of a lecherous old hag / old man / old bits-of-both; in WH40k depictions are of a young flamboyant hermaphrodite/ transsexual.<br />
* Main enemy - The brutish Khorne, obviously. H-he never calls...<br />
* Bro god - Tzeentch, although that's mostly because he's the least icky of the Chaos gods. Her friendship with Nurgle is a bit questionable since he did steal [[Isha]] during Slaanesh's proverbial....and literal, raping of the former Eldar empire, though it isn't shown anywhere that Slaanesh still openly detests Nurgle for that (Hell, at one point, their daemons temporarily joined forces together). Generally the most open to working with the others.<br />
* Love Interest - All of them. Still pines for Isha, and is depressed no one ever seems to love him/her back. Messes around with Khorne. Gave up on Nurgle after he got married. For a long time has been pining for Tzeentch of all people, but she can never seem to make him think she likes him as more than just a friend. Basically, she's the hot chick who got friendzoned by the nerd. But she won't give up!<br />
* Dedicated [[Chaos Space Marine]] Legion - [[Emperor's Children]]. Also has others to call on like The [[Flawless Host]] (their drugs make Emperor's Children ones look like a weak store coffee), [[Violaters]] (these guys body sculpt themselves enough to make a [[VtM|Tzimisce]] well up with pride), as well as, again, various IG-equivalent armies.<br />
* [[Warriors of Chaos]] "Hero"/Chaos Tribe: Sigvald the Magnificent (he really is quite magnificent...), Syrkaar of Sortsvinear. <s>The Varg tribes serve him.</s> NO WE DON'T. <br />
*Sacred Number - 6<br />
<br />
== Tzeentch ==<br />
{{Main|Tzeentch}}<br />
<br />
Tzeentch is the god of [[Just as planned]] and magic. Tzeentch is formed from paranoia and plotting, but also, amazingly enough, hope and ambition. Other values include trust, happiness, dissatisfaction, aspiration, progress, knowledge, learning, protection, will, and change.<br />
* Gender - A nerdy man<br />
* Main Enemy - Nurgle, who won't get off his damn ass to do anything, refuses to change...<br />
* Bro god(dess)- Slaanesh, who isn't as brutal as Khorne and not as much of a lazy bastard as Nurgle. Plus, she's nice to little Tzeentch!<br />
* Love Interest - Though he feels out of her league, hopes that one day Slaanesh will notice him. Kind of wishes the Deceiver, Cegorach, and the Emperor were girls. T-then surely he could impress them, yes!<br />
* Dedicated [[Chaos Space Marine]] Legion - [[Thousand Sons]]. Unlike the other gods, Tzeentch apparently doesn't have any IG-equivalent armies dedicated to him in particular. Most likely the reason for this is because if a Guardsman is going to turn to a specific Chaos god, the prospect of [[Khorne|power and unending glorious conquest]], [[Nurgle|freedom from all pain and suffering]], or [[Slaanesh|all the booze, drugs and whores you can handle and then some]] are much more attractive options than becoming some nerd's pawn.<br />
* [[Warriors of Chaos]] "Hero": <s>Vilitch the Curseling</s> Elgrim Van Horstmann. No Chaos Tribe seems to revere him to any exceptional extent. <br />
* Sacred Number - 9<br />
<br />
== The Other Ones ==<br />
Older editions of Warhammer Fantasy and 40k mention several lesser Chaos gods. Nowadays, they only appear in WFB (and even then, only sparingly), with some (the Horned Rat and Hashut in particular) generally considered to be separate from the "main" Chaos pantheon.<br />
<br />
=== Be'lakor ===<br />
In [[Warhammer Fantasy Battle]], Be'lakor was one of the earliest Chaos warlords, leading vast hordes of Daemons to ravage the world long before the Elves rose up against them. He impressed the Chaos Gods so much they turned him into a [[Daemon Prince]], the first time they ever did that to a mortal follower of Chaos Gods. He is still among the most powerful of all Daemon Princes and is able to grant his followers unique magic powers. But then he grew proud and considerd himself better than the Chaos Gods themselves, so Tzeentch cursed him for his arrogance. Tzeentch made him be the one to crown Everchosens of Chaos while never getting to become the Everchosen himself, which pisses him off to no end.. With the latest Everchosen [[Archaon]]; Be'lakor was once again forced to crown the Everchosen of Chaos with the final artifact. Be'lakor took a big part of the [[Storm of Chaos]] campaign, but that has since been retconned. Although he still shows up from time to time, he no longer appears to be quite as powerful as he once was, although he is still a Daemon Prince of [[Chaos Undivided]], which is a massive accomplishment in and of itself. <br />
<br />
In [[Warhammer 40,000]], Be'lakor was the first Daemon Prince, as well as the first (and last) Daemon Prince created through the action of all four Chaos Gods ([[Derp|apparently]] [[Lorgar]] and [[Perturabo]] aren't any more), and quickly proved to be difficult to control even at the best of times. Apparently his creation gave him the Daemonic equivalent of daddy issues and now he spends most of his time trying to kill all other Champions of Chaos, including other Daemon Princes. The Chaos Gods tolerate him mostly because his wild-card status makes him an excellent pawn in their power struggles- something Be'lakor himself is completely unaware of (as he thinks he still has free will and just wants to cement his position as Chaos' sole champion). Recently, he's shown up to "help" with [[Abaddon]]'s [[Black Crusade]]s by giving him [[Troll|seemingly helpful advice that often leads to unexpectedly heavy losses]], all in an attempt to undermine his credibility (well, more so than he does on his own). In a stunning display of insight, Abaddon saw through his ruse, but allowed him to remain within the Black Legion in order to keep tabs on him and better prepare for his inevitable betrayal. The Imperium isn't even aware that he exists, as Be'lakor has been very careful about concealing his presence from history (with the unwitting help of a Magos who learned just enough about him to know that he exists, but not enough to realize that he's a Daemon Prince). Playing in a band really doesn't help his concealment much though[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pOiQOOrj-fY].<br />
<br />
=== Hashut ===<br />
<br />
Hashut apparently means "Father of Darkness" in Dwarfen, which naturally means he's the god of the [[Chaos Dwarfs]]. And if his followers are any indication, he's also god of penis-compensating hats.<br />
<br />
=== The Horned Rat ===<br />
<br />
{{Main|Horned Rat}}<br />
<br />
This otherwise-unnamed deity is patron of the [[Skaven]], and god of...well, rats. Also disease, mutations, etc., but mostly rats. The Horned Rat once appeared in material form; he's the only Chaos god to do so. Of course, in Skaven fashion, he just ate a ton of the Skaven present, gave some orders and left; the Skaven only serve him out of fear, even though their belief in him only makes him stronger. He left then with a warpstone monolith containing the Skaven equivalent of the Ten Commandments.<br />
<br />
=== Malal === <br />
<br />
{{Main|Malal}}<br />
<br />
Malal is a renegade Chaos god that only appeared in one comic for Fantasy. He is the god of fractiousness and dissent, which, given the company he keeps, makes him a tad redundant. That being said, he did have awesome champions who lived solely to hunt down the greatest champions of the other gods, which is pretty [[Awesome]]. Sadly (or not, depending on your opinion), [[Games Workshop]] idiotically lost the rights to his name, so he's been more or less retconned. Except now he <i>might</i> be back in 40k, with a [[Chaos Space Marine]] warband called the Sons of Malice who worship a god called Malice...who just happen to wear a color scheme of black and white, and just happen to have a symbol of a bisected skull, and who's premier Chaos weapon specializes in killing Daemons. But nope, don't you dare say they worship Malal.<br />
<br />
=== Mo'rcck, Phraz-Etar, Ans'l ===<br />
<br />
Puns on the last names of sci-fi and fantasy author Michael Moorcock (from whom the idea of [[Chaos]] as a fundamental force in the world was blatently stolen/took inspiration from, and don't anyone ever say "borrow for a while" since even the author and Games Workshop have admitted it, artist Frank Frazetta (who drew a lot of movie and comic book posters, especially in sci-fi and fantasy), and Citadel Miniatures founder Bryan Ansell (who wrote several of the [[Rogue Trader (Sourcebook)|First Edition]] rulebooks). These guys helped set the tone of the early [[Warhammer 40,000]] universe (purposefully or not), including the propensity of putting spikes on [[Chaos]] things. Games Workshop decided to pay homage in the (initial) Third Edition [[Codex]]: [[Chaos Space Marines]], which mentioned that Chaos Space Marines often put "spiky bits" on their armour in praise of these three gods. They were never mentioned anywhere else, and probably shouldn't be considered "cannonical"... not that canonicity counts for much in 40k anyway.<br />
Although, how it can be stolen is actually of interest, since Chaos Theory and it's relatives, nihilism, indeterminism, and anarchy all have origins in the idea that life was created from Chaos. In Ancient Greek religion/philosophy (typically Stoic), depending, Kaos (Chaos), was a living force that travelled the universe, crashing into planets and bringing life as a result. The universe, erstwhile, is definable in some way by a logic of order called Logos, which, interpreted as there is some form of determinism we can ascertain, is the idea that really drives any sort of science at this point especially in the quantum region of physics. <br />
Chaos has some sort of order to it. Also known as there is a method to my/your/his/her/it's/their madness.<br />
These two do not necessarily conflict. In Egyptian mythology, the interpretation is quite different. Chaos, or the World Snake Apophis, Prince of Chaos, which is from what demons are born (and thus, the whole demon-devil disparity in D&D and 40k). This force, since it is naturally manifesting all forms of possibility, created Order in the form of Ma'at, which is also Virtue, and in the oldest interpretations, the chief of the pantheon, a goddess. Ra and then Osiris and then Horus was the steward of her material goals. In this way, a monarch, who was the avatar of one of the gods, and especially the Pharaohs and the Queen who were supposed to be manifestations of Horus and Isis respectively, held the title Steward of Ma'at. This however, was a tradition of any meaning in relation to virtue quickly lost in the establishment of the Old Kingdom. <br />
In Hindu/Buddhist mythology, the Asuras (Chaos) and the Devas (Order) constantly tug at a cosmic snake coiled around a mountain on the primordial ocean to continue the process of creation and destruction in the current universe, the third attempt, the previous being either to chaotic or too orderly. Supposedly, the two sides get along in order to balance equilibrium until they start arguing over the moral principles disrupted by what it is happening, and it is suggested there is a way to transcend order and chaos, which the Buddhists suggest, in part, as enlightenment. Again, the Wizards take it to another level of coneception, the alignment chart, which proposes that good or evil can exist with a balance of law and chaos and that law and chaos can be independent of good and evil and that it is possible to be completely independent of any form of morality by being true neutral. Chaos and Order today, and Chaos Theory to boot, are used for economics, understanding politics, psychology, and so on.<br />
Transformers takes the Universal Morals born of Aligned Morals born Order born of Chaos theory born of All and runs with it. Primus, the God of Order, who is present in almost every universe and multiple and seeks to maintain balance and create is born of a split from Unicron, a singular force of Chaos that devours the universe. When Unicron accomplishes this feat, the end of consumption results in a formation of Order, vice versa. Both are minute in power compared to the One, Unicron's creator, who is all things or created all things in this multiverse omniverse continue to verse to infinity.<br />
So yes, GW used the name without permission, and that is wrong. Beyond that, how do you immoralize creating characters that see chaos as a fundamental force in the world? Who should have the intellectual property rights? Pre-history Proto-Indo-European civilizations, since all the ideas in the ancient world effectively originate from there and before that Africa?<br />
<br />
=== Necoho ===<br />
<br />
[[File:Necoho_Revealed.png|500px|thumb|right|[[/tg/]] has recently deduced Necoho's true identity.]]<br />
<br />
Necoho is the god of atheism and one of the other minor gods invented as a replacement for Malal. Stupid as it sounds, it actually works, as Chaos is a reflection of all human beliefs and emotions, including, paradoxically, disbelief. He generally works to make religious movements disappears and wears a permanent expression of comic amusement, as he fucking knows he's a walking, talking paradox.<br />
<br />
Note that Necoho was introduced in two [[splatbook]]s for [[Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay]] 2rd Edition, so his current canonicity is doubtful, to say the least. That being said, he has been mentioned sporadically since then, such as the [[Gotrek & Felix]] novel ''Road of Skulls'', which is more than can be said for Zuvassin.<br />
<br />
=== Urlf ===<br />
<br />
Urlf isn't a name. It's the last fucking death cry a guy makes when you gut him. That should tell you all you need to know. Anyway, this guy used to be a Norscan (like most of the daemon princes on this list) and was elevated to princehood by Khorne for exceptional badassery. Before his ascension, he was a massive, tall, bearded, Clint Eastwood-type Chaos Champion and was a chieftain of the Snaegr clan of Aeslingr. He's so fucking powerful that he was able to create his own lesser daemons and can bless warriors with the Mark and mutations of Khorne. Urlf has his own summoning days like most powerful daemon princes, and is usually worshiped as a lesser deity of Chaos by those who serve his master, Khorne. He has a short story in the 7th edition Chaos army book, where he muses on the fuck-you nature of time in the Warp and remarks on how the new Chieftain of the Snaegr resembles one of the sons he fathered in his mortal life. He also blesses the new chief with Khorne's mark and turns him into a monstrous cross [[Awesome|between a Bloodletter and a Chaos Champion]]. <br />
<br />
=== Zuvassin ===<br />
<br />
Zuvassin is one of the two minor gods invented as a replacement for Malal. He just likes to see shit fall apart, specifically nonphysical stuff like schemes and lives - in other words, he's the god of [[not as planned]]. He's the guy who makes all the bad shit happen in infomercials. Generally, he makes sure that Murphy's Law is always enforced in the most spectacular possible ways. He doesn't have many worshippers, as he makes sure to fuck up whatever they're planning too.<br />
<br />
Note that Zuvassin was only included in two [[splatbook]]s for [[Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay]] 2rd Edition, so his current canonicity is doubtful, to say the least.<br />
<br />
== Fan-made gods ==<br />
<br />
=== The Box God ===<br />
<br />
This minor deity of Chaos is so unimportant that nobody even knows it's actual name or appearance. The only known worshiper is [[Firaeveus Carron]] who would sacrifice the [[Metal Boxes]] of his enemies to this god after a battle.<br />
<br />
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nHeL6OGE6k The Box God's early years.]<br />
<br />
I AM THE BOOOOOX GOD! BEWARE!<br />
<br />
{{Template:ChaosGods}}<br />
[[Category:Warhammer 40,000]][[Category:Chaos]][[Category:Gods]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=The_God-Emperor_of_Mankind&diff=483505The God-Emperor of Mankind2014-06-16T20:45:21Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Regeneration */</p>
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<div>{{awesome}}<br />
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[[File:Lord of Mankind.jpg|300px|right|thumb|Liberating the galaxy is one thing, but he was so powerful he never once stopped looking ''fabulous'' while doing it.]]<br />
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The '''God-Emperor of Mankind''', also known as '''Tha Emprah''', '''Emps''', '''The Big E''', '''Space <s>Lenin</s> Jesus''' and also sometimes called '''The Great and Glorious Big Mac Daddy King Emprah of all things Epic and Awesome''' (ahem, ahem) is the figurehead ruler of the [[Imperium of Man]] in the ''[[Warhammer 40k]]'' universe and is the only sustaining Hope for Humanity (not that [[Tzeentch|other, more horrific brand of "Hope"]]) as Faster than Light Travel is [[Astronomican|entirely dependent on him]]. The [[Administratum]] he established continues to <s>fuck up to hell</s> govern the [[Imperium]] in his name, but it is generally accepted that the absence of the Emperor's proper guidance is what has turned the Imperium into the [[/b/|hellish mess]] that it is. In the [[Imperium]], questioning whatever your superior tells (yells) you the Emperor's word happens to be that day, is treason and [[heresy]], typically punished by [[blam|death]]. Were The Emperor up and about in the 41st millennium, it goes without saying that he would be disappoint. Most fa/tg/uys expect him to speak in a generic deep, stentorian voice. <br />
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Exception? [[The Last Church]]. It is permissible to substitute the voice of whatever angry militant atheist appeals to you most/least for the duration of this one (short) story. Also, according to that same story, this asshole wiped out Scandinavia, [[Viking|right when Scandinavia was getting fun again]]. <s>So FUCK HIM</s>{{BLAM}}{{BLAM|WHERE ARE THESE HERETICS COMING FROM!? WE WILL HAVE TO START A NEW CRUSADE SOON APPARENTLY!}}. According to the Horus Heresy books that mention the Unification Wars, he burned down a lot of things on a partially recovering Terra.<br />
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==The Entire History of the Emprah==<br />
[[File:Majestica.jpg|250px|left|thumb|Big E gets all the bitches.]]<br />
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According to older (read: second edition) [[fluff]], the being that would eventually become known as the Emperor was born in 8000 BC in Anatolia (modern-day Turkey). Allegedly, this was the result of hundreds of human shamans committing ritual suicide to be reborn as a single individual capable of protecting humanity from the [[Chaos Gods]]. However, [[Skub|the validity of this fluff is frequently questioned]], given it hasn't been "official" since second edition. That being said, nothing has explicitly contradicted this story, and the only other theory is that the Emperor is a [[Perpetual]], meaning an immortal ''-but ultimately human-'' psyker with countless lifetimes' worth of knowledge and power and the ambition to use it. However, this theory seems unlikely, especially given the Chaos Gods apparently view the Emperor as an equal/rival, an honor they give to none of the other known Perpetuals, and the ''Horus Heresy'' novels have dropped hints that the Emperor is actually a "we."<br />
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The second edition fluff also mentions that he guided humanity throughout history under a number of guises, such as Jesus, Mohammed, the Buddha, etc. (and, it has to be assumed, [[Conan the Barbarian]]). <br />
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Sometime around the 11th or 12th century, he battled a shard of the [[Void Dragon]] in modern-day Libya. He eventually defeated it and locked it on [[Mars]] (somehow...), allowing the [[Adeptus Mechanicus]] to control machines... eventually. Of course, it's not entirely clear whether this is true or not -- it's entirely possible that ALL of the Emperor's history is a lazily-crafted lie he throws around because no one can debunk it -- but given how [[Awesome]] it sounds, we're going to say it did.<br />
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Apparently, he mostly stayed out of the way during the next 30,000 years of human history, including the [[Dark Age of Technology]], though hot off the press fluff indicates he might have been travelling outer space in old-style NASA rockets with the other perpetuals. Coming to find the planet '''Molech''' where he passed through a gateway that led ''directly'' to the fortresses of the four [[Chaos Gods]]. Here he either challenged, bargained or stole portions of the gods powers from them and when he emerged he was one of the most invincible beings in the universe. <br />
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He returns to Terra at the closing of the [[Age of Strife]]. With Terra cut off from the rest of humanity's former empire and the Terra itself ruled by warring "techno-barbarians" in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, the Emperor decided to reveal himself, using his mastery of genetic engineering to create the [[Thunder Warriors]], the predecessors to the Space Marines. Using "join-me-or-die" tactics, he managed to conquer the entirety of Terra during the Unification Wars. Then, he made contact with the Mechanicus on Mars and, calling himself the [[Omnissiah]], convinced them to build him weapons and ships. Around this time, he also created the [[Imperial Truth]], which says that religion, faith, and superstition were all banned; apparently, it took him this long to realize the whole "Peace, Love, and Religion" thing wasn't working.<br />
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But, before he set out to conquer the stars with the newly-formed Imperial Army (which contained both [[Imperial Guard|ground forces]] and [[Imperial Navy|space-borne fleets]]), he decided to create the twenty [[Primarch]]s to serve as his generals using himself as the template; though with his new-found powers ''apparently'' stolen from the Gods at Molech, they would inevitably be pissed at him cloning THEIR energies. So the Chaos Gods snatched them away (via time-travel-as-a-vision shenanigans) from their incubators in a secret lab underneath the Himalayas and scattered them across the galaxy. Luckily for the Emperor, some genetic code was left over, and so from that he created 20 Legions to serve as the elites of his army: The [[Space Marine|SPEHSS MEHREENS]]. So, with his armies complete (minus the Primarchs, which he hoped to find), he embarked on the [[Great Crusade]] to once again allow humanity to control the stars.<br />
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As he found each Primarch, he assigned them to command each of their respective Legions to retake humanity in the [[Great Crusade]] (although, at some point, two of them disappeared or were executed, leaving only 18 Primarchs and Legions at the end of the Great Crusade). A military campaign of a grand scale, this is also when the SPESS MEHREENS were the most awesome and at their peak. [[just as planned|Just when things seem to be going well]], the [[Horus Heresy]] erupts where 9 of the Primarchs and their legions rebel against the Emprah. In the end, the Emperor fought and slew [[Horus]] (who was daddy's favorite) but at a great cost. The Emperor was mortally wounded to the point that he had to be put permanently on a life support system known as the [[Golden Throne]] (and he humiliated himself in the middle of the fight when he cried). <s>All agree that the bronze liberal douchebag deserved it.</s> {{BLAM|''' ''*BLAM!*'' ''''''EXTRA''' HERESY!!!}}<br />
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Subsequently, without the Emperor's leadership, the Imperium eventually degraded into the theocratic [[Grimdark]] empire we all know and love today, in the 41st millennium.<br />
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While interred on the Golden Throne, the Emperor's psy-essence prevents [[daemon|daemonkind]] from directly assailing [[Terra]], and also sustains the psychic-beacon known as the [[Astronomicon]]. Without the Emperor, warp travel would not be possible, and everyone on Terra would be raped, both sexually and non-sexually.<br />
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It is established that the Emperor is pretty much the most powerful psyker alive, humbling even the [[Eldar]]. He is tens of thousands of years old and has been secretly guiding humanity from behind the scenes for much of his lifetime. Theories variously suggest that he was also Sigmar of [[Warhammer Fantasy Battle]] fame, Julius Caesar, [[Conan the Barbarian]], [[meme|Chuck Norris]], and Jesus. It is uncertain as to whether or not his internment on the Golden Throne is a good thing; some believe that if he were to die, the [[Imperium]] would be truly plunged into darkness, whereas others believe that if allowed to finally die he would reincarnate and return to unify the galaxy once more. Whatever the truth of the matter, [[Games Workshop]] are never going to advance the story, so it is mostly irrelevant.<br />
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==The Emprah Himself==<br />
After he shaved his goatee, his chin radiated a brilliant light through the [[Warp]]. The [[Imperial Navy]] uses this light, the Astronomicon, as a beacon to guide them through that terrible place. He is sometimes referred to as the Emprah, a joke derived from the voice acting in the ''[[Dawn of War]]'' game, ''[[Dawn of War: Soulstorm|Soulstorm]]'', specifically [[Indrick Boreale]]'s final speeches.<br />
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The Emperor is so powerful that he could [[Awesome|'''DESTROY SUNS BY SNAPPING HIS FINGERS!!!''']]<br />
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The [[Chaos]] Gods are scared as fuck of the guy, and hope he dies so they can take over the universe. ''If'' the God Emperor were to arise again [[Chaos]] would be '''FUCKED'''.<br />
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The [[Eldar]] fear that if <s>the Emperor were to die a new [[Eye of Terror]] would be opened and Chaos would take over EVERYTHING!!!</s> {{BLAM}} {{BLAM| Heresy! The Emprah cannot die!}}<br />
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[[File:Climax.jpg|250px|right|thumb|A typical father and son chat between Empy and Horus.]]<br />
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After he was nearly killed by his son, he was placed on the Golden Throne and hasn't been able to move for the past few millennia. Most of the fluff maintains that his existence on a day-to-day basis since then is a living hell (By comparison, the process of making astropaths would be like a trip to the dentist). It's literally the mother/father/uncle/2nd Cousin of all mindfucks, so bad that even a Inquisitor would likely go insane as a result (or anybody else for that matter) and yet he continues...<br />
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Why? He may be the universe's most powerful vegetable, but that doesn't mean that he can just sit down and die. Oh no, it's exactly the opposite. It gives him a fuckton of work to do, and along with being the lighthouse of the warp guiding the Imperial Navy, he also needs to make the aforementioned astropaths, <s>as well as keeping all the nasties of the warp where they're supposed to be and not spilling over into reality and make the lives of all human beings miserable.</s> Or perhaps a combination of Tzeentch perpetuating the stalemate and the influence of Necron technology is doing that. He also does it for the good of man. (sounds kinda familiar, don't it?) In the last year of M41 techpriests discovered that the Golden Throne is failing and the Emperor is DYING so look up! there is a 50/50 chance of the Emperor returning to life.... Or dying forever and everyone in the Imperium becoming a <s>Chaos sex toy/Punching Bag/plague vector/science experiment.</s> {{BLAM}} {{BLAM| Heresy! THE EMPRAH IS IMMORTAL AND HE WILL PROTECT US!}} Pfft, as if [[Cegorach]], [[Tzeentch]], or the [[C'tan|Deceiver]] are going to let one of their paradox poker buddies die.<br />
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:''"The Emperor was a brilliant scientist, a powerful warrior, and great psyker, but he was a terrible [[Venus' Burn|father...]]"<br />
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:-[[Roboute Guilliman|Rawbutt Girlyman]], Primarch of the Ultramarines, pointing out the obvious.<br />
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Every Saturday night the [[Emperor]] gets together with [[Tzeentch]], [[C'tan|the Deceiver]], and [[Cegorach]] for a game of Paradox Poker. They have to use a new pocket dimension for each of these games because the sheer amount of dickery and [[JUST AS PLANNED]] causes the dimension they play in to collapse. Nobody has ever won one of these games. Any who try to watch these games without possessing similar mastery of the fine art of dickery and [[JUST AS PLANNED]] will find that their heads will explode into a shower of [[Necrons]](even though it was they who built the damn pockety dimension...), [[Eldar]], [[Space Marines|SPESS MEHREENS]], and Daemons as they cannot comprehend the true form of the game.<br />
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But the Emperor is disappoint, because he wanted the Imperium to be a utopi-{{BLAM}} {{BLAM| HERESY THE IMPERIUM IS THE PERFECT VISION OF THE EMPRAH THE WAY IT IS!}} {{BLAM}} {{BLAM| HERESY THIS MAN IS AN IMMPOSTER AND THE EMPEROR HAS NOT YET PERFECTED THE IMPERIUM AND WILL DO THAT ONCE HE IS RESURRECTED!}} {{BLAM}} {{BLAM}} {{BLAM|I apologise for that, reader. You may continue. FOR THE EMPRAH!}}<br />
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For all his desire to guide and protect humanity, there is a lot of proof, particularly from the Horus Heresy books and some short stories, that the Emperor was not Space Jesus, but Space Hitler. He [[Nazi| declared humanity the superiors of xenos]], setting the basis for humanity's genocidal xenophobia (and the hatred of nearly every xenos race in turn); planned to destroy all mention of religion by force of arms if needed; planned to reunite humanity under his rule no matter what anyone else wanted/thought, again by force of arms if needed; cared little for the primarchs as his actual sons, thinking of them as generals and tools rather than his sons, screwing over several in his efforts to recruit them (hence causing their later betrayals); carried out many unethical and morally questionable experiments; and so on. His reign killed more humans than the entire rest of humanities dictators in history up to that point ''combined'', then ''multiplied'', and that's assuming you don't count all the other sapient organisms that might or might not have deserved it.<br />
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It can be said that the Emperor was such an asshole due to the state of the universe he founded himself in and that he acted as he did believing small sacrifices were all for the greater good ([[Tau|Now where have we heard that before?]]) but that doesn't change the fact he began a crusade that would have culled billions and destroy entire xenos species even if the campaign had gone well and not ended in the Horus Heresy (assuming that the Emperor would have allowed it to end at all).<br />
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To be fair, the whole reason humanity (and the Emperor) hates aliens is because during the Age of Strife, numerous xenos races exploited humanity's weakness by raiding, looting, and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Then <s>Hitler</s> the Emperor comes along and decides that the best way to stop it from happening again is to wipe out all xenos that might pose a threat to the fledgling Imperium. However, those few xenos species that did not pose an immediate threat to humanity were usually made protectorates similar to the Tau government (unless they resisted, were in the way, possessed a planet, influenced human culture at all, or were intelligent at all, in which case the results were predictable). Ever since his ascension, the Imperium forgot about the part where harmless aliens are tolerated and just thinks they should all be killed. But on the other hand, [[Orks|the]] [[Necrons|most]] [[Tyranids|common]] [[Eldar|xenos]] [[Dark Eldar|are]] [[Eldrad|dicks]] and aren't exactly willing to buddy up with the Imperium themselves.<br />
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==Worship of the Emperor==<br />
[[File:646545.jpg|thumb|300px|What the Emperor looked like before Horus decided to bitchslap him. Notice the giant skull. How did that skull get so big? Is it a plastic faux-skull, or is it an alien skull? Anyway, back on topic. You don't get to see the Emperor out of armor very often.]]<br />
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Humans worship the Emperor as the one true God. If you're an atheist, then he's the closest thing they have to a proper caring and nurturing god who actually cares about his subjects, so you might as well let them. Humans are more than willing to die in his name or skullfuck the next guy who says anything remotely bad about him. Now, the only reason the Imperium worship the Emperor is that after his fight with Horus and his internment into the Golden Throne, they pretty much forgot what the Emperor taught them, <s>including draining the power of the Chaos Gods by eliminating all kinds of religion and remaining an atheist empire.</s> This is partially false. Ol' Empy did not actually tell anyone of the Chaos Gods as part of his plan to starve them, withholding the information even from the Primarchs in hopes of protecting them from corruption. ''Ignorance is bliss!'' Unfortunately this became part of why the Horus Heresy happened in the first place, as while not knowing the existance of the chaos gods could have prevented his servants from falling to the temptation of worshipping some very REAL gods, it also left them without the knowledge of what to do when faced with the influence of said deities. Plus, it's pretty damn hard to fight against something if you don't know that it exists. The Horus Heresy novels also mentioned the Interex, another atheist empire who do understand that Chaos existed but treated it secularly and scientifically, rendering them more proficient with dealing with Chaos than the Imperium.<br />
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The Emperor was actually AGAINST any kind of religion as part of his [[Imperial Truth]] and plan for mankind to be [[Star Trek|a utopia of science and reason]]-- even if the object of worship would be himself like when he told [[Lorgar]] to fuck off with the God-Emperor worship. <s>Although, the Emperor was only half-right about this because he didn't realize that Chaos runs off emotion rather than worship, thus his starvation plan wouldn't have been ultimately successful in the long run. While Chaos does draw more power from direct worship to them, even if worship of them is stopped at large, they can still draw from the everyday emotions.</s> His plan wouldn't have killed the Gods but would have severely weakened their influence on the Materium. Without cultists, there would be no summoning of demons. Without uncontrolled psykers, few possessions would occur. Thus, without religion and warp travel, the Chaos Gods and their minions wouldn't be able to access the Materium (for the most part). Hence why the Emperor tried to access the Webway where Mankind can be able to travel through space while minimizing exposure to Chaos. Who gives a shit about the Ruinous Powers if they're stuck in the Warp? <br />
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However, he made a critical mistake in disregarding the human need to believe in something greater than oneself, and despite his best efforts with the Imperial Truth reason and logic simply weren't enough to fill the place of religion. Ironically, his solution was not to suppress faith but to redirect it towards something else, intended to be the idea of the Imperium, but because of his own unmatched psychic powers and enigmatic nature that "something else" ended up being the Emperor himself. After he went off being the most powerful psychic vegetable in the universe, and lost direct control of the Imperium of man, belief in him sort of helped the Imperium stand together, even if it basically dropped 99.9% of humanity's IQ in the process- with the warp being what it is, the act of worshipping the Emperor supercharged his power in the Immaterium to the point of being truly godlike, even while his body is stuck in its current state of near-death. The Imperium's faith in the Emperor is basically their biggest anchor of bravery and perseverance in a universe where humanity is constantly beset by:<br />
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*[[Tyranids|Unimaginably massive swarms of voracious space lizards who exist only to feed and grow]]...<br />
*[[Necron|Aeons-old zombie-terminator robots from space set on culling all life from the galaxy]]...<br />
*[[C'Tan|Diabolical celestial beings literally as old as the stars themselves whose single concern is harvesting souls for consumption]]...<br />
*[[Orks|Green-hued xeno-barbarians whose pastimes, ambitions, job skills, and dreams can basically be summed-up as bludgeoning]]...<br />
*[[Tau|Technologically advanced space communists wanting to assimilate everyone in their quasi Hindu-Communist empire and who take after Billy Mays]]...<br />
*[[Eldar|Snooty and uncaring space elves that can read minds and who eat, sleep, and live in planet-sized battle cruisers]]...<br />
*[[Dark Eldar|psychotic, hedonistic space elves who routinely torture others to the point of death for sheer amusement before grinding their remains into refined cocaine]]...<br />
*[[chaos|Fanatical zealots that knowingly devote themselves to all that is insane and evil]]...<br />
*[[daemon|Nightmare horrors made real who will rape and/or eat any sentient being they get their goat-hooves on]]...<br />
*[[Chaos Space Marines|Deformed, demented traitors clad in power armor and aided by the evilest forms of weaponry and sorcery ever conceived <s>Matt Ward</s> Fuck you, he's your problem. Not ours.]]<br />
*[[Rak'gol|Homicidal alien, lizard, insect, cyborg type monster-pirates that horribly kill you for fun]]...<br />
*[[Games Workshop|Malignant, omnipotent intelligences from beyond the cosmos, exerting all the power at their disposal to prevent any faction from breaking the stalemate or upsetting the dreadful status quo]]...<br />
*[[Sly Marbo|And fuck knows who the guy in the cardboard box is]]...<br />
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Without their faith in the Emperor after his internment into the Golden Throne, the fragments of the Imperium would have fought against each other and themselves again like in the pre-Great Crusade days and subsequently devolved into what they were before the Emperor liberated them. So yes, much like IRL religion, it gives them hope and courage to fight on and survive in a universe that leaves the [[grimdark]] faucet running everyday.<br />
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It's worth noting that good ol' Empy wouldn't have had nearly as much of a problem with all this unwanted worship if he hadn't, just as a quick example, insisted on wearing horrifyingly ornate solid gold armour and a big glowy halo at all times. Or on carrying a flaming sword of righteousness. Or on building continent-sized monuments to his vanity. Or on decking all his personal troops and favored genetic experiments in as much bling as they could possibly carry. Or on being <s>nine</s> eleven fucking feet tall. If you look like space-Jesus and act like space-Jesus, people are going to take those observations to their extreme conclusions, like what Lorgar did when he wrote the ''Lectitio Divinitatus'', which can be summarized as "Ordinary men can't blow up suns and carry big glowy halos at all times, only a God, therefore the Emprah is God." This is made even more relevant given that the fluff very strongly implies that the Emperor ''is'' Jesus.<br />
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That said, to Games Workshop's credit his being [[Ultramarines|buttfucked by his own Hubris and disregard for the humanity he claimed to be guiding]] in this manner was probably [[Grimdark|intentional as a classic tale of Greek Tragedy]].<br />
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==The possible death of the Emperor==<br />
With the Golden Throne being constantly damaged and the Techpriests are too power-armor-on-head rebooted to do anything about it, it is certainly possible that the Emperor may die one day, which will obviously result in all of the Imperial worlds and factions to cry tears of disappointment and subsequently devolve into chaos. There are however, 3 possible outcomes of what will happen if the Emperor should ever die:<br />
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===The new Eye of Terror===<br />
Conventional wisdom and the [[Eldar]], says that in the event that the Emperor dies, a new Eye of Terror will be created, plunging Holy Terra and all nearby planets into the Warp. Even the [[Ecclesiarchy]] agrees that if the Emperor were ever to die, humanity would be FUCKED at the barest minimum.<br />
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This is supported by the fact that the '''Golden Throne''' ''(itself a portal to the Webway)'' was broken by [[Magnus]], causing a warp tear to occur on Terra which the Emperor has had to spend every second for the last 10,000 years concentrating on to keep it from getting any bigger (the [[Adeptus Custodes]] has spent the same amount of time chopping up daemons that jump through). If he were to die or his attention were to waver for too long it would grow and rip the Imperium apart.<br />
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Additionally, a new Chaos God could be created, which will most certainly be a God of all the Grimdarkness in the galaxy, ensuring that it would eclipse all of the powers of the other Gods as the Emperor would finally be the God of all, this is especially true since nearly everything that is grimdark comes from Chaos and the entire WH40K setting is itself a massive pile of it... that or Malal would burst back into existence.<br />
Some also fear that a fifth Chaos God's presence would just crush reality as-is reverting everything back into the immaterium.<br />
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There is also Imperial Warp-travel methods to be considered in the Emperor's death. Since The Golden Throne is what allows him to power the Astronomican, when he dies humanity will have to resort to other forms of travel (which, to avoid snobbish xenophobic soul stone machinery and an extradimensional labyrinth that will try to kill you, arcane levels of technology wielded by the largest cybernetic faction, Chaos atrocities, contraptions that only work if Orks want them to, and ships that will eat you alive, leaves one form of travel that is veritably easy to access and incurs no daemonic/quantum repercussions of things worse than death or the loss of teef: Tau sub-light engines) unless He can guide them through the powers of the Warp. <br />
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Now, the implications of the Emprah becoming a Chaos God, or more aptly put, a God of Order in the realm of Chaos, are tremendous. The Immaterium in itself is a reflection of the collective conscious, sub-conscious and instinctual consciousness of all sentient beings. The Chaos Gods are, in effect, representative of the sheer amount of suffering in the present, past down through unresolved problems of the past, relative deprivation of knowledge, freedom, happiness, the multitude of oppressive governments, the high levels of crime, the presiding prescence of fear and propaganda, the various forms traditional past down psychological inhibition by each faction to maintain the current balance of power, and the extreme levels of atrocity, torture, slaughter, and so on, and due to not having the knowledge or methods necessary to deal with a nightmarish realm, many, be they human, Eldar, Ork, Tau, and so on, are at the very least sociopaths by our standards and at most psychopaths and insane. It is a world where to live by ideals of good one must rebel without also falling to corruption, which, with the exception of the Farsight Enclaves, the only Noble Bright faction in 40k, has yet to succeed. The Emperor himself is one of the victims of the pressure of history, much like a certain prescient God-Emperor of a desert planet in a landmark sci-fi novel series who sought to end tyranny by being such a tyrant that the desire for empire in human culture would be forever annihilated. Anyways, the Emprah was born in 8th century BC Anatolia, a region Turkey. This is a time of historical hellishness for humanity, especially in this area. It is a time when cities have begun to rise, when patriarchies and matriarchies alike wield armies on campaigns of conquest, rape, slavery and annexation, a time when societies who despise slavery and race-gender segregation are few and have begun a 1,200 year long last stand, nothing of their like to be seen again on the world stage till the 1600's behind the scenes. Per GW's 40k mythos, the shamans could feel the rise of the Chaos Gods, made of the nightmarish Warp remnants of the psychological pain caused by the War in Heaven, brought together by humanity's experience of horror and fear. So they sacrificed themselves to create a child filled with all their psychic power. We can only assume whether or not the Emperor was born from a woman's womb or is an astral projection of the psyche, and GW will likely never say. To go back to the Emperor Leto II of Dune, a being who was tortured through his prescience by the demands of the dead, be they tyrants like Caesar and Stalin, be they oligarchs like Cicero and Washington, malevolently evil beings capable of causing populations to vent rage and pain through genocide and complicated misoginy/racial segregation like Hitler and the medieval Vatican, or the countless amounts of people (in the year of 2014 alone, 7 billion people live and die upon a world that has held a total of 106 billion humans throughout history) who have suffered and caused others to suffer. He was guarded only by those psyches that were good, or that at least were willing to respect him. Among the good, there are also countless amounts of people, from the Sarmatian nomads (roughly 800BC-400AD) of the Northern shores of the Black Sea who held men and women in equal respect, who did not enslave or segregate, and stood valiantly against Persian armies, Greek raids, and Roman legions, and Goth hordes, falling only when they chose to become patriarchs in the face of the Hunnish hordes, to the ancient peoples beyond our current ability in archaeology to know of, and the many individuals and small groups who spoke out against oppression throughout time, whether through secret societies, alone, in uprising, religion, art, activisim, treatise, theory, or through reform. Thus, Leto was able to redirect history even though he did it in an atrocious and despicable fashion because he felt it was the only way. The Emprah was not so lucky, for he was born in our early history. The physical and psychological reverberations traveling through humanity, and in this case, the Warp, would continue to increase in strength for the next 2800 years and then wane only very slightly down to a half of it's strength over the next four centuries. The Emperor also seems to be prescient, for he knew of the Void Dragon and Chaos and all else, and more or less instigated not only the Dark Age of Technology but also the Age of Strife and the proceeding Age of Man by using the Void Dragon, which could be interpreted as on purpose since that caused the Age of Strife on humanity's end, since the Void Dragon not only had egged humanity's unconscious to expand throughout the stars but also spread sentience into machines, who, unsurprisingly, rebelled from their servitude to humans, not to mention the infection of Chaos in human technology caused by collateral damage of new Warp Storms created by the birth of Slaanesh no thanks to the Eldar. He manipulated events from behind the scenes until the 29th millenium, when he sought to establish his own domain. <br />
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Leto is noted with cursing the Roman Empire for infecting human cultures with the dreams of empire in order to establish order and security, regardless of their rampant misoginy, slavery, civil wars, oligarchy, and general greed, that went so far as for the Roman Senate to become the Vatican and the Emperor Constantine to make himself a part of the Church who collectively tailored the New Testament to their own ends through the Christian theologists they chose not to kill, and thus the ensuing split and feud covered by theological dispute that also had economic basis for the time between the nascent Roman Catholic Church who made Germany it's avatar of an earlier time as the Holy Roman Empire and the burning of millions of 'heretics' throughout it's first several centuries, between intellectual and warrior or simply independent minded women, the Templars, theologists who proposed universalist philosophy as essential doctrine for Christianity, peasant uprisings, and so on, and the Byzantine Empire established the Orthodox Church, and both stood against the Arab Caliphates with all sides ready to turn on their allies. Until recently, that is to say, the late twentieth century, the teaching of the 'civilization' of the Roman Empire and Hellenic League and the succeeding, per nation; British, French, Spanish, German, Brazilian, Russian, Austrian-Hungarian, Portuguese Empires, Manifest Destiny and the American Dream, and nationalist movements and a mixtue of cults of excess and greed still persisted in the Western World as the standard belief, and still exists, at it's worst manifesting in fascism (which comes from the Roman word fasces, the symbol of the Roman Republic), and on it's polar opposite the 'communist' movements such as the USSR that simply were totalitarian, just as the teaching of Confucian/Legalist doctrine still persists in China as a part of Chinese Communist Party state school doctrine, or the so-called Liberal Democratic Party of Japan that Mr. Abe, the Prime Minister is part of, has members that have insisted that the military of Japan was not wrong in it's imperialism, that the genocides in Korea and China never happened and the sex-slave prostitution system provided for it's soldiers and then the annexing Americans both through it's own women and those of China and Korea, or, speaking of Korea, the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (North Korea) is about to lose the last members of generation that remembers what it was like before North Korea and thus the only sources of information to the public of the outside world, and so on, without even listing all the criminal and terrorist organizations and their various affiliations. The Emperor, similarly, created the Imperium of Man which melds various elements of cultures he quite literally lived through. The symbol, the two headed eagle known as the Imperial Aquila, is the same as that of the Byzantine Empire. The Force Organization of a Space Marine Chapter or the preceding Space Marine Legions is a technologically adapted version of a Roman Legion, down to the number of Marines (10 Companies: 10 Centuries, which is one hundred soldiers each, even though the Companies aren't exactly that, it typically adds up to 1000 Marines or 1000 Legionnaires, not counting auxiliary forces and irregular troops and logistical services), whereas the Imperial Guard Armies are reminiscent of armies from the 19th through early 20th centuries with tactics anywhere between guerrilla warfare, trench warfare, blitzkrieg, and cavalry charges. The Navy is right out of the twenty-first century mixed with the 18th on Void scale, boasting massive rows broadsides, turrets, point defense systems, lasers torpedoes, fighters and bombers, nuclear arsenals, boarding actions, and being used for anything from blockade, bombardment, patrol, and invasion support. There is a definite genocidal eugenicist totalitarian feel to the Imperium, between the male only supersoldiers, the use of brainwashed, isolated and drugged assassins, and the creation of human mutants who can direct a ship through Warp jumps only through complete dependence on the Astronomican, a need to know basis on history and politics, and disgust for democracy and general xenophobia. Under the Emperor, the religious aspect was not yet apparent, and instead there is an atheist doctrine in the form of the Imperial Truth, which firmly establishes a Legalist doctrine that despises cosmology and philosophy and places all the power of government in the Emperor in theory, just as the first Emperor of China did, disposing of every other written work on philosophy including most of the chapters of the Art of War, worsk of Daoism, Buddhism, Mohism, Agrianism, and even Confucianism (which would be brought back into allowance under a later dynasty because it proposes creating a religion around a masculine caste system) and so on through fire, including their followers. The Emperor also shares other traits with Leto II, such as working towards the prosperity of humankind, which many monarchs have claimed, most notably the Persian monarchs Cyrus, Xerxes, and Darius, as they ruled the same territory that would later be highly loyal to the Emperor (who presumedly began the Unification Wars campaign in the Himalayas and likely began with control over India and Tibet) which was once called Persia and is now called Iran, and also promoted pragmatic expansion (though Darius incorporated a religious aspect by using Zoroastrianism, claiming that world conquest would honor Ahura Mazda, the chief god of that pantheon, who was the god of Conquest, Truth, and 'Good', that is to say, the cultural norm of a misogynistic caste system promoted by Persian law) and it is that empire, Persia, which spread dreams of conquest to Greece and Rome and so on, though Persia itself had received it from the Medes, Babylonians, Assyrians, Sumerians, and so on, further back into history until detail is lost to us. <br />
However, the Emperor, if considered a prescient being, does not seem to me to be so foolish as to not be surprised by the Horus Heresy. Knowing whether or not he knew who would become a Traitor essential to solving the riddle of whether or not the Emperor has planned the Imperium's current state by creating a system that under his rule was to oppressive to not have rebellion, and then a reversal of some intrinsic dogma just as all oppressive states are, and the creation of a religious legacy. Assuming the Emperor intended for the Heresy to happen, and going by the prophecy of the Cabal, a mysterious group of xenos including Eldar, and humans, all of immortal nature with a flying saucer Hive City sized Void Ship, who gave the Alpha Legion to futures: if the Alpha Legion aided Horus, he would kill the Emperor, realize his mistake, and lead the complete extermination of humanity. If the Alpha Legion aided the Emperor, he would survive permanently incapacitated and the Imperium would decay slowly, continuing to feed the Chaos Gods until the entire galaxy would fall prey to the Great Game. The Alpha Legion seems to have chosen to aid Horus at first appearance, except the Emperor is still alive. So either the Cabal were wrong, or the Alpha Legion was aiding the Emperor behind the scenes, which would totally fit the Alpha Legion's sneakiness or love of subterfuge and wreaking confusion, and also joined Chaos, which does not, as is shown by the unease and cutthroat nature in the Chaos ranks, mean helping Horus or not helping the Emperor. They also didn't follow the other Traitor Legions into the Warp, becoming nomads on the East Fringe of the galaxy and trolling the Ultramar, Bluud Ravens, Imperial Navy, and other Chaos warbands to no end. Purportedly, to set up an attack on the Imperium they start cults on an Imperial planet in a tactically unimportant location that threatens to become a major daeomonic threat, or they make a deal with Orks to attack such a planet in exchange for Imperial weapons and a fight with Space Marines and thus draws the local Imperial Navy, and then the other warbands attack. However, more often than not, a reserve force stayed behind or the SPESS MEHREENS shows up just in time and both threats are dealt with. Now, the Alpha Legion has never been depicted, with the exception of Lord Bale and Sindri, as narrow minded. This would suggest the Alpha Legion is methodically killing off other Chaos Warbands while killing Imperials, or: they are trying to kill off as many humans as possible while eliminating the pawns of those who would benefit from it.<br />
Welcome to Grimdark, folks. The humans seem screwed every way possible because human society and mobility is dependent on the Emperor or the Chaos Gods to function. There is a loophole, however. The Cabal said "in the galaxy". This means that leaving the galaxy can save sentients from the Warp. <br />
Now, this is NOT the Ship thread of 50k, mostly because keeping the Emperor alive means continuing to commit a Chaos level atrocity of sacrificing 1000 souls to do so every day. More on this later. Now, assuming the Emperor intended for the Age of the Apostasy to happen, the creation of the Inquisition etc.,(I mean come on, he is a tribute to Leto II, just like Leto he had only one friend, who was his chief administrator, Malcador the Sigilite, and Leto's was Malky (phonetics much?), neither of them mated, though Leto II had several wives (he is half sandworm, no genitalia left), and they always seem sad and nostalgic even when they are joyful, and have a get-personal fury attitude when opposed mixed with some form of forgiveness) then he really did try to drive home how ridiculous Empire in his own dysfunctional manner.<br />
Ultimately, following a parallel with Dune, the Emperor has to die, because then humanity will scatter and there will be chaos, yes, but many will go beyond the currently known world, and their return will cause a series of events that will allow the most virtuous faction to unite humanity and create a utopia based upon empathy, freedom, and love, after enduring an advancing threat of complete extermination and a return to slavery. In the case of 40k, that means the galaxy. <br />
However, due to the Chaos problem, this is doubtful, and also find it doubtful that GW would consider this (not that, for many good reasons, they will ever advance the storyline).<br />
What seems more likely is that the death of the Emperor, who seems to be the God of Imperial Order, will destroy the foundation of the Imperial Cult and thus the basis for varied forms of morality of the Imperial Faithful, which will result in widespread despair and turning to Chaos, which will in turn fuel the Chaos Gods so much it will allow them to completely overwhelm the consciousness of anyone the galaxy with psychological idiosyncrasies, including the Tyranids' Norn Queens who are the Hive Mind(s?), the Hive Tyrants, and thus control and probably defile the Swarm, and only the Necrons will be spared. Ironically, this will be due in part to the Emperor's ascension if it occurs, because the Emperor deitic absolution as worshipped has a tendency to dominate, even if only humans, which is possible since the nature of the Warp is defined, ultimately, by sentient minds, despite all the pressure the Warp puts upon them that they do not have the knowledge to deal with or recognized with accuracy.<br />
This is where the escaping the galaxy methods must be considered. This is difficult, because it means being able to leave the galaxy and within it while not going into denial about morality. Dark matter anti-gravity fields or ancient Warp storms without demonic definition or not beyond it, it is possible, in multiple ways:<br />
While this method should be x-nayed unless the Emperor could be put in a soulstone and imbedded in the Astronomican, the Emperor's Light could make it possible to travel through the Warp Storms. This would also be the easiest for high ranking Imperials to contemplate because all the knowledge is available.<br />
Slaan technology, since they purpotedly left the galaxy after the War in Heaven. Arthas Moloch might have some if GW is handing out reference to history/gaming culture hints, since the name means Lizard King or Lich King. The word Moloch means King in Hebrew, the god of the Ammonities, who made human sacrifices to him including human children. Moloch is also the name of a harmless spiny lizard from Australia that eats ants. In scientific taxonomy using Latin, lizard king is Tyrannosaurus Rex, but that is a tangent. Arthas appears to be a reference to a character from Warcraft, a person chosen to be the host of a Lich King. Further, the Dead World of Arthas Moloch had Warp portals within a temple from which issued Daemons of Khorne upon the Tau forces under Farsight's expedition, and there were also purity seals that Farsight used to close them, and furthermore, Farsight learned either by looking into the Warp or from writings from that world of the nature of Chaos and the Warp and thus that the Ethereals had lied to him about much of it. He also carries the Dawn Blade, a twelve foot tall sword that adds to his lifespan the remaining natural life of his enemies through the chronographic alloys that it is made of. It is not Warp related in any fashion, which would at a glance, suggest Necron-C'tan (which is the ancient Hebrew pronunciation of Satan, and further, in medieval Christianity, the devil is often depicted as blue, the skin color of the Necronytr and the Tau) responsiblity due to what the Deceiver offered Szarekh, the Last Silent King, in return for giving the C'tan bodies: immortality for all the Necron people in exchange for their certain sentient traits-<br />
-It is conceivable due to the unnatural pheronomal powers of the Ethereals upon other Tau and their devious legalistic aristocracy led caste system that they are in fact C'tan shards most likely of the Deceiver-<br />
-or that Szarekh alone could be made immortal in the deaths of others. However, the Necrons nor the C'tan do not use seals to combat demons, wherever the blade itself might be from. This would suggest that Arthas Moloch was once a Slaan or Old One (they are reptiles) world that fell to the C'tan in the War in Heaven and the blade was placed there but could not be held by the Necrons and C'tan due to the strong demonic presence. That, or this planet explains in the origin of the Tomb Kings in Warhammer Fantasy. In any event, it likely has an alternate form of travel buried somewhere. However, no one barring the Emperor and the Cabal has the sufficient knowledge to consider such a goose chase for this purpose. Interestingly, there is also a Tyranid unit called the Moloch, a borrowing monstrous creature. This may suggest that the Slaan who fled the galaxy have become the Tyranids or have been integrated by them into the Hive. If this is so, it may be wise to avoid Slaan-Old One-Eldar-Necron-Ork technology, barring that no others may be available, because the Hive would know it tremendously well. Further, the fact the Tyranids could traverse the intergalactic Void and appear to do so at a rate slow enough for the Silent King to have noticed is proof, who was also out in the Void heading for another galaxy that there is a way to cross the interglactic Void.<br />
The Halo Stars, the location of the original homeworld of the Necrons, may have the only Necron quantum technology that the Necrons do not guard or possess since it would appear they have long abandoned the area since their homeworld is now in a Warp Storm within the Halo Stars. While only the Eldar records, the Necrons, the Cabal, the C'tan, the Slaan wherever they are, and likely the Emperor are aware of this, which may also explain the Emperor's reasoning for initiating the steps to take over the Webway so to access the Necron world through Dolmen Gates which use the Webway albeit with difficulty. The Eldar are to arrogant to use Necron technology, the Necron and C'tan don't understand the state of the Warp, the Slaan probably don't give a damn either way, the Cabal are an unknown, and the Emperor can't do much. So that really leaves only the Legio Custodes, Senior Inquisitors, the Historical Revision Unit, the Navigators and the high ranking members of the Adepta Sororitas capable of not only knowing enough about the Imperial Webway and the Webway itself but also to care enough to attempt this, though only a Navigator or Inquisitor could possibly traverse the now not only hostile but daemon infested Webway.<br />
The other way, which is the most blatantly obvious to the Imperium as a whole and by far the easiest, is Tau engines. It is already known they don't have psykers yet, and that would make the sub-light engines highly desirable to someone who didn't want to depend on the Navigators (cough cough Dune technological race in books 5-8), be traceable by psyker navies, and risk the perils of the Warp. The Tau are also the mostly likely xenos to be willing to cooperate besides the Ork clan of Blood Axes. <br />
The Eldar Warp engines are incredibly powerful, however, the Eldar themselves might not take kindly to building a massive ship in a non-Eldar manner and to do so with double monkeighs. This would take a last minute circumstance, and considering the resources involved in building a ship that would hold an ecosystem within it for the long voyage in nothingness, this would not be possible without Orks to make up for lost time, and the prospect of defiled art-machinery-grave Warp engines would disgust the Eldar. It's that or share a Craftworld and rig it with engines on one end.<br />
Human archeotech would solve a lot of problems right now, but the only people who would have such a thing are the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Deathwatch, the Bluud Ravens (who probably don't know they do), or the Dark Angels.<br />
So there you go. If the Emperor is really a Chaos God there are some serious endgame problems.<br />
<br />
===Regeneration===<br />
No, not the [[Doctor Who]] kind. The Horus Heresy novel 'Vulkan Lives' heavily implies that the Emperor is a [[Perpetual]] like John Grammaticus, Vulkan, Oll Persson and [[Anval Thawn]], all of who were able to survive things which should have completely obliterated them. So all he simply needs to do is die and wait a couple of hours/days and he'll be reborn again (in the "get up off the ground and dust himself off" sense). In theory, at least. Vulkan, for instance, was driven mad by the torturous experiences he had endured under the Night Haunter, and they were child's play compared to sitting in unthinkable agony unable to move or speak for ten thousand years rotting alive. However, a more commonly held belief is that he will get up, re-establish the [[Imperial Truth]], and just be a cool guy.<br />
<br />
In fact, a whole faction of the [[Inquisition]]: '''Thorianism''' exists to investigate this possibility, looking for possible signs that the Emperor's consciousness can be transferred elsewhere, allowing him to walk amongst men once more. (That said, they don't know about the existence of Perpetuals and would rather look for a new body to place the Emperor's soul into.)<br />
<br />
Opponents to Thorianism generally see that encouraging this is a terrible idea, as having the Emperor rise in a physical form would only cause a schism in the Imperium, as many people would not believe it to be true having been conditioned by the Ecclesiarchy over thousands of years, which would cause [[Horus Heresy|another major civil war]]. <br />
<br />
Not only that, but having him stand up to stretch his legs before the Golden Throne was fixed or have someone powerful enough to replace him would potentially cause the same result as a new Eye of Terror. As towards the end of the Horus Heresy, he only moved from the seat in the final battle when [[Malcador the Sigillite]] ''(the third most powerful "known" human psyker - after [[Magnus]])'' took his place temporarily, which was still enough to crumble him to dust.<br />
<br />
A great solution to this problem is two words, one that starts with F and the other rhymes with vile, who is still alive, albeit a Chaos follower and very vile. Fabius Bile. He made Horus clones, which while Abaddon destroyed along with the original body, Fabius Bile is still running around somewhere. If he could be....convinced, to aid the Emperor (I'm sure Asmodai of the Dark Angels could do it) then it could happen. And also, the argument that it's impossible because the Emperor is a psychic being is false because he made the Primarchs from his own genetics. Anakin Skywalker had DNA and was able to have kids naturally yes?<br />
<br />
===The Star Child===<br />
Although years of GW's marketing and [[retcon|fluff upgrades]] have made the third claim rather dubious, many fa/tg/guys and optimists still hold out on the theory stating that when the Emperor screwed Horus's soul to the wall, part of the Emperor's soul was also cast into the Warp. This Emprasoul fragment is the Star Child, another god waiting to be reborn - or perhaps be reincarnated into human flesh. (anyone call for one master scout mcvenner) If the remains of the Emperor were ever to die, the tiny spark of soul left in his body would re-unite with the greater whole, and according to [[fluff|prophecy]], stalemate the four Chaos Gods while the races of the galaxy were left to battle it out in one last great Ragnarok scenario. <br />
<br />
This theory is tied closely to the <s>[[Sensei]]</s> Illuminati, a group of either supremely enlightened individuals or dangerous mutant heretic xenos-fuckers, depending on which side of the [[Inquisition]] you're on. The Illuminati plan to catch all of the Sensei and sacrifice them in the golden throne at the moment of Empra's death and <s>he will become the Sensei-Emprah(Numen). Yay!</s> {{BLAM|HERESY!!!}}<br />
<br />
The fluff revealed that the Illuminati were a minor Tzeench cult and the sensei were effectively brainwashed soon-to-be sacrifices in an attempt to bring Tzeench to the materium. Needless to say, they have been purged by the Inquisition.<br />
<br />
However, more recent '''(2006 onwards)''' fluff from [[Xenology]] puts a glimmer of hope on this theory by suggesting providing an image of an "unborn child surrounded in starlight" as one of the three future survivors of the galaxy's conflicts (the other's being [[Khaine]] and the [[Cegorach|Laughing God]]). While it can be equally suggested that this actually refers to [[Ynnead]] who is the Eldar god that shall be born from the webway when the last [[Eldar]] has died, it is now becoming clearer that Ynnead and the Emperor's star child could be the same thing, particularly with the revelations in '''Horus Heresy''' that the Golden Throne is a doorway into the webway itself.<br />
<br />
Further evidence to support this is the even more recent ''Mechanicum'' novel, where a faction of Mars attempted to access the aetheric wellspring of ALL KNOWLEDGE ''(read: "God")'' which was hidden away within the warp. They hoped to access this knowledge using a device called the '''Akashic Reader''' which operated using identical energies to that of the [[Astronomican]], considering that at the time it was powered solely by the energies of the Emperor it suggests that his divinity was seeded in the warp well in advance of his enthronement, simply awaiting a time for it to reconnect with him.<br />
<br />
== The Emperor's list of Things to do after Resurrection ==<br />
[[File:Emperor of mankind flaming sword armor.jpg|200px|right|thumb|Badass and glorious.]]<br />
<br />
''Too important to be a sub-section of this article; moved to its own article: '''[[Emperor's To-Do List]]'''''<br />
<br />
== Gallery ==<br />
<center><gallery><br />
File:Golden Throne-Imperial Webway.jpg|The Big E upon the Golden Throne (before the decay set in)<br />
File:Emperor of Mankind Classic Portrait face.jpg|The guiding light in the Imperium of Man shines forever bright<br />
Image:1220179589932.jpg|The Emperor protects man from all.<br />
File:Emperor of Mankind Contemplation.jpg|"Why IS IT that hot dogs come in packs of 8, and hot dog buns come in packs of 12?"<br />
Image:Horus and the Emperor.jpg|Son, I am disappoint.<br />
Image:Wh40k-emperor.jpg| Yearbook photo.<br />
Image:When you ruin his groove by Lutherniel.jpg| His groove, do not ruin it.<br />
File:Go Ahead Make My day Emperor.jpg|That is EXACTLY the same look that's on Batman's face when he's about to put the beatdown on someone!<br />
File:Emperor of Mankind model action figure.jpg|He makes for one helluva action figure<br />
Image:8.jpg|The Emperor of all Catkind! Nyuh!<br />
Image:1271118030729.jpg|Just imagine if the Chaos Gods didn't scatter the primarchs through out the galaxy... Wait where's that little scamp Omegon? (just off picture, sneaking up behind Guilliman)<br />
Image:God-Emperor_Goldlich.jpg|Death is no excuse to stop bein' pimp.<br />
File:God_Emperor_Interred_On_Golden_Throne.jpg|Thinking to himself, "I really, REALLY hate Horus!"<br />
Image:Emperor blackwhite.jpg|He might be the most powerful psychic vegetable in the universe but the Custodes can't give him a decent hygiene program.<br />
Image:The Immortal Emprah.jpg| Not so divine now, is he?<br />
Image:Emperor_miniature.jpg|Roll d6; stays on the field on seven or less<br />
Image:emperor_old.jpg|A real man never dies, even when he's killed.<br />
Image:emperor.png|Down but not out.<br />
Image:Emperormini.jpg|In all His miniature glory<br />
Image:Carrionlord.jpg|The Carrion Lord with his two left arms.<br />
File:Painting.jpg|This painting sold for $900, that lucky ca/tg/url...<br />
Image:slowemperor.jpg|Oh God-emperor, how did this get here? I am not good with computers.<br />
Image:Emperor_Sagan.jpg|Search your feelings, you know it to be true.<br />
Image:EmpsVSigmar.jpg| You all know you wanna see how this pans out!<br />
Image:Emprasque3.jpg|How do you kill what can not die?<br />
Image:Slavegirl Emperor.jpg|Emperor [[Rule 63]]! NO EXCEPTIONS!<br />
Image:Femprah.jpg|THE EMPEROR IS NOT A WOMAN! AND THIS ONE IS UGLY, TOO!<br />
Image:Femprah_by_Mr-Culexus.jpg|Oh, give it a fucking rest... <br />
Image:Emperor_upon_his_other_throne.jpg|Yeah. We get it. The Emperor sits upon the Golden 'Throne'.<br />
Image:1377291976783.jpg|Unbeknownst to many 40k fans, ol'Emps is fairly amicable when he meets an elf/eldar who isn't a complete failure. <br />
Image:First_Founding_Problems.jpg|Perhaps with a better armor design, Emps might not have been late for Horus's after school soccer games and things might have turned out differently. <br />
</gallery></center><br />
<br />
<hr/><br />
<blockquote><i><br />
We believe in one Lord,<br />
the Emperor, the Almighty,<br />
ruler of heaven and earth,<br />
of all that is, seen and unseen.<br />
We believe in one Lord, Emperor of Mankind,<br />
the only Lord of creation,<br />
eternally begotten of Humanity,<br />
Human from Human, Light from Light,<br />
true Lord from true Lord,<br />
begotten, not made,<br />
of one Being with Humanity;<br />
through him all things were made.<br />
For us and for our salvation<br />
he came down from heaven,<br />
was incarnate of the Holy Spirit<br />
and came among us.<br />
For our sake he has faced down Chaos;<br />
he withstood death and was enthroned.<br />
To this day he lives on<br />
in accordance with the Scriptures;<br />
he resides upon Mother Terra<br />
and is seated upon the throne of Humanity.<br />
He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,<br />
and his kingdom will have no end.<br />
<br />
We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Emperor, the giver of life,<br />
who proceeds from Humanity and the from Terra,<br />
who with Humanity and upon Terra is worshipped and glorified,<br />
who has spoken through the prophets.<br />
We believe in one holy true and divinely guided Ecclesiarchy.<br />
We acknowledge one path for the defense against Chaos.<br />
We look for the justice for our dead,<br />
and the life of the worlds to come.<br />
<tt>++ Ayhmen ++</tt></i></blockquote><br/><br />
-- the [[Creed]] of the Mankind's Council of Nicene of Holy Terra<br />
<br />
==See Also==<br />
* The [[Imperium]], for the empire he founded. <br />
* [[Sigmar]] Unberogen, his Warhammer Fantasy Battle counterpart<br />
*[http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/25959559/ This thread] which makes the Emperor even cooler.<br />
*[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z_2nM1GEllg/ A series on Youtube, it shows what would happen if the Emperor had a Text to Speech device.]<br />
{{Imperium}}<br />
[[Category:Gods]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=The_God-Emperor_of_Mankind&diff=483504The God-Emperor of Mankind2014-06-16T20:38:23Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* The new Eye of Terror */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{awesome}}<br />
<br />
[[File:Lord of Mankind.jpg|300px|right|thumb|Liberating the galaxy is one thing, but he was so powerful he never once stopped looking ''fabulous'' while doing it.]]<br />
<br />
The '''God-Emperor of Mankind''', also known as '''Tha Emprah''', '''Emps''', '''The Big E''', '''Space <s>Lenin</s> Jesus''' and also sometimes called '''The Great and Glorious Big Mac Daddy King Emprah of all things Epic and Awesome''' (ahem, ahem) is the figurehead ruler of the [[Imperium of Man]] in the ''[[Warhammer 40k]]'' universe and is the only sustaining Hope for Humanity (not that [[Tzeentch|other, more horrific brand of "Hope"]]) as Faster than Light Travel is [[Astronomican|entirely dependent on him]]. The [[Administratum]] he established continues to <s>fuck up to hell</s> govern the [[Imperium]] in his name, but it is generally accepted that the absence of the Emperor's proper guidance is what has turned the Imperium into the [[/b/|hellish mess]] that it is. In the [[Imperium]], questioning whatever your superior tells (yells) you the Emperor's word happens to be that day, is treason and [[heresy]], typically punished by [[blam|death]]. Were The Emperor up and about in the 41st millennium, it goes without saying that he would be disappoint. Most fa/tg/uys expect him to speak in a generic deep, stentorian voice. <br />
<br />
Exception? [[The Last Church]]. It is permissible to substitute the voice of whatever angry militant atheist appeals to you most/least for the duration of this one (short) story. Also, according to that same story, this asshole wiped out Scandinavia, [[Viking|right when Scandinavia was getting fun again]]. <s>So FUCK HIM</s>{{BLAM}}{{BLAM|WHERE ARE THESE HERETICS COMING FROM!? WE WILL HAVE TO START A NEW CRUSADE SOON APPARENTLY!}}. According to the Horus Heresy books that mention the Unification Wars, he burned down a lot of things on a partially recovering Terra.<br />
<br />
==The Entire History of the Emprah==<br />
[[File:Majestica.jpg|250px|left|thumb|Big E gets all the bitches.]]<br />
<br />
According to older (read: second edition) [[fluff]], the being that would eventually become known as the Emperor was born in 8000 BC in Anatolia (modern-day Turkey). Allegedly, this was the result of hundreds of human shamans committing ritual suicide to be reborn as a single individual capable of protecting humanity from the [[Chaos Gods]]. However, [[Skub|the validity of this fluff is frequently questioned]], given it hasn't been "official" since second edition. That being said, nothing has explicitly contradicted this story, and the only other theory is that the Emperor is a [[Perpetual]], meaning an immortal ''-but ultimately human-'' psyker with countless lifetimes' worth of knowledge and power and the ambition to use it. However, this theory seems unlikely, especially given the Chaos Gods apparently view the Emperor as an equal/rival, an honor they give to none of the other known Perpetuals, and the ''Horus Heresy'' novels have dropped hints that the Emperor is actually a "we."<br />
<br />
The second edition fluff also mentions that he guided humanity throughout history under a number of guises, such as Jesus, Mohammed, the Buddha, etc. (and, it has to be assumed, [[Conan the Barbarian]]). <br />
<br />
Sometime around the 11th or 12th century, he battled a shard of the [[Void Dragon]] in modern-day Libya. He eventually defeated it and locked it on [[Mars]] (somehow...), allowing the [[Adeptus Mechanicus]] to control machines... eventually. Of course, it's not entirely clear whether this is true or not -- it's entirely possible that ALL of the Emperor's history is a lazily-crafted lie he throws around because no one can debunk it -- but given how [[Awesome]] it sounds, we're going to say it did.<br />
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Apparently, he mostly stayed out of the way during the next 30,000 years of human history, including the [[Dark Age of Technology]], though hot off the press fluff indicates he might have been travelling outer space in old-style NASA rockets with the other perpetuals. Coming to find the planet '''Molech''' where he passed through a gateway that led ''directly'' to the fortresses of the four [[Chaos Gods]]. Here he either challenged, bargained or stole portions of the gods powers from them and when he emerged he was one of the most invincible beings in the universe. <br />
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He returns to Terra at the closing of the [[Age of Strife]]. With Terra cut off from the rest of humanity's former empire and the Terra itself ruled by warring "techno-barbarians" in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, the Emperor decided to reveal himself, using his mastery of genetic engineering to create the [[Thunder Warriors]], the predecessors to the Space Marines. Using "join-me-or-die" tactics, he managed to conquer the entirety of Terra during the Unification Wars. Then, he made contact with the Mechanicus on Mars and, calling himself the [[Omnissiah]], convinced them to build him weapons and ships. Around this time, he also created the [[Imperial Truth]], which says that religion, faith, and superstition were all banned; apparently, it took him this long to realize the whole "Peace, Love, and Religion" thing wasn't working.<br />
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But, before he set out to conquer the stars with the newly-formed Imperial Army (which contained both [[Imperial Guard|ground forces]] and [[Imperial Navy|space-borne fleets]]), he decided to create the twenty [[Primarch]]s to serve as his generals using himself as the template; though with his new-found powers ''apparently'' stolen from the Gods at Molech, they would inevitably be pissed at him cloning THEIR energies. So the Chaos Gods snatched them away (via time-travel-as-a-vision shenanigans) from their incubators in a secret lab underneath the Himalayas and scattered them across the galaxy. Luckily for the Emperor, some genetic code was left over, and so from that he created 20 Legions to serve as the elites of his army: The [[Space Marine|SPEHSS MEHREENS]]. So, with his armies complete (minus the Primarchs, which he hoped to find), he embarked on the [[Great Crusade]] to once again allow humanity to control the stars.<br />
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As he found each Primarch, he assigned them to command each of their respective Legions to retake humanity in the [[Great Crusade]] (although, at some point, two of them disappeared or were executed, leaving only 18 Primarchs and Legions at the end of the Great Crusade). A military campaign of a grand scale, this is also when the SPESS MEHREENS were the most awesome and at their peak. [[just as planned|Just when things seem to be going well]], the [[Horus Heresy]] erupts where 9 of the Primarchs and their legions rebel against the Emprah. In the end, the Emperor fought and slew [[Horus]] (who was daddy's favorite) but at a great cost. The Emperor was mortally wounded to the point that he had to be put permanently on a life support system known as the [[Golden Throne]] (and he humiliated himself in the middle of the fight when he cried). <s>All agree that the bronze liberal douchebag deserved it.</s> {{BLAM|''' ''*BLAM!*'' ''''''EXTRA''' HERESY!!!}}<br />
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Subsequently, without the Emperor's leadership, the Imperium eventually degraded into the theocratic [[Grimdark]] empire we all know and love today, in the 41st millennium.<br />
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While interred on the Golden Throne, the Emperor's psy-essence prevents [[daemon|daemonkind]] from directly assailing [[Terra]], and also sustains the psychic-beacon known as the [[Astronomicon]]. Without the Emperor, warp travel would not be possible, and everyone on Terra would be raped, both sexually and non-sexually.<br />
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It is established that the Emperor is pretty much the most powerful psyker alive, humbling even the [[Eldar]]. He is tens of thousands of years old and has been secretly guiding humanity from behind the scenes for much of his lifetime. Theories variously suggest that he was also Sigmar of [[Warhammer Fantasy Battle]] fame, Julius Caesar, [[Conan the Barbarian]], [[meme|Chuck Norris]], and Jesus. It is uncertain as to whether or not his internment on the Golden Throne is a good thing; some believe that if he were to die, the [[Imperium]] would be truly plunged into darkness, whereas others believe that if allowed to finally die he would reincarnate and return to unify the galaxy once more. Whatever the truth of the matter, [[Games Workshop]] are never going to advance the story, so it is mostly irrelevant.<br />
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==The Emprah Himself==<br />
After he shaved his goatee, his chin radiated a brilliant light through the [[Warp]]. The [[Imperial Navy]] uses this light, the Astronomicon, as a beacon to guide them through that terrible place. He is sometimes referred to as the Emprah, a joke derived from the voice acting in the ''[[Dawn of War]]'' game, ''[[Dawn of War: Soulstorm|Soulstorm]]'', specifically [[Indrick Boreale]]'s final speeches.<br />
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The Emperor is so powerful that he could [[Awesome|'''DESTROY SUNS BY SNAPPING HIS FINGERS!!!''']]<br />
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The [[Chaos]] Gods are scared as fuck of the guy, and hope he dies so they can take over the universe. ''If'' the God Emperor were to arise again [[Chaos]] would be '''FUCKED'''.<br />
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The [[Eldar]] fear that if <s>the Emperor were to die a new [[Eye of Terror]] would be opened and Chaos would take over EVERYTHING!!!</s> {{BLAM}} {{BLAM| Heresy! The Emprah cannot die!}}<br />
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[[File:Climax.jpg|250px|right|thumb|A typical father and son chat between Empy and Horus.]]<br />
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After he was nearly killed by his son, he was placed on the Golden Throne and hasn't been able to move for the past few millennia. Most of the fluff maintains that his existence on a day-to-day basis since then is a living hell (By comparison, the process of making astropaths would be like a trip to the dentist). It's literally the mother/father/uncle/2nd Cousin of all mindfucks, so bad that even a Inquisitor would likely go insane as a result (or anybody else for that matter) and yet he continues...<br />
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Why? He may be the universe's most powerful vegetable, but that doesn't mean that he can just sit down and die. Oh no, it's exactly the opposite. It gives him a fuckton of work to do, and along with being the lighthouse of the warp guiding the Imperial Navy, he also needs to make the aforementioned astropaths, <s>as well as keeping all the nasties of the warp where they're supposed to be and not spilling over into reality and make the lives of all human beings miserable.</s> Or perhaps a combination of Tzeentch perpetuating the stalemate and the influence of Necron technology is doing that. He also does it for the good of man. (sounds kinda familiar, don't it?) In the last year of M41 techpriests discovered that the Golden Throne is failing and the Emperor is DYING so look up! there is a 50/50 chance of the Emperor returning to life.... Or dying forever and everyone in the Imperium becoming a <s>Chaos sex toy/Punching Bag/plague vector/science experiment.</s> {{BLAM}} {{BLAM| Heresy! THE EMPRAH IS IMMORTAL AND HE WILL PROTECT US!}} Pfft, as if [[Cegorach]], [[Tzeentch]], or the [[C'tan|Deceiver]] are going to let one of their paradox poker buddies die.<br />
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:''"The Emperor was a brilliant scientist, a powerful warrior, and great psyker, but he was a terrible [[Venus' Burn|father...]]"<br />
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:-[[Roboute Guilliman|Rawbutt Girlyman]], Primarch of the Ultramarines, pointing out the obvious.<br />
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Every Saturday night the [[Emperor]] gets together with [[Tzeentch]], [[C'tan|the Deceiver]], and [[Cegorach]] for a game of Paradox Poker. They have to use a new pocket dimension for each of these games because the sheer amount of dickery and [[JUST AS PLANNED]] causes the dimension they play in to collapse. Nobody has ever won one of these games. Any who try to watch these games without possessing similar mastery of the fine art of dickery and [[JUST AS PLANNED]] will find that their heads will explode into a shower of [[Necrons]](even though it was they who built the damn pockety dimension...), [[Eldar]], [[Space Marines|SPESS MEHREENS]], and Daemons as they cannot comprehend the true form of the game.<br />
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But the Emperor is disappoint, because he wanted the Imperium to be a utopi-{{BLAM}} {{BLAM| HERESY THE IMPERIUM IS THE PERFECT VISION OF THE EMPRAH THE WAY IT IS!}} {{BLAM}} {{BLAM| HERESY THIS MAN IS AN IMMPOSTER AND THE EMPEROR HAS NOT YET PERFECTED THE IMPERIUM AND WILL DO THAT ONCE HE IS RESURRECTED!}} {{BLAM}} {{BLAM}} {{BLAM|I apologise for that, reader. You may continue. FOR THE EMPRAH!}}<br />
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For all his desire to guide and protect humanity, there is a lot of proof, particularly from the Horus Heresy books and some short stories, that the Emperor was not Space Jesus, but Space Hitler. He [[Nazi| declared humanity the superiors of xenos]], setting the basis for humanity's genocidal xenophobia (and the hatred of nearly every xenos race in turn); planned to destroy all mention of religion by force of arms if needed; planned to reunite humanity under his rule no matter what anyone else wanted/thought, again by force of arms if needed; cared little for the primarchs as his actual sons, thinking of them as generals and tools rather than his sons, screwing over several in his efforts to recruit them (hence causing their later betrayals); carried out many unethical and morally questionable experiments; and so on. His reign killed more humans than the entire rest of humanities dictators in history up to that point ''combined'', then ''multiplied'', and that's assuming you don't count all the other sapient organisms that might or might not have deserved it.<br />
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It can be said that the Emperor was such an asshole due to the state of the universe he founded himself in and that he acted as he did believing small sacrifices were all for the greater good ([[Tau|Now where have we heard that before?]]) but that doesn't change the fact he began a crusade that would have culled billions and destroy entire xenos species even if the campaign had gone well and not ended in the Horus Heresy (assuming that the Emperor would have allowed it to end at all).<br />
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To be fair, the whole reason humanity (and the Emperor) hates aliens is because during the Age of Strife, numerous xenos races exploited humanity's weakness by raiding, looting, and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Then <s>Hitler</s> the Emperor comes along and decides that the best way to stop it from happening again is to wipe out all xenos that might pose a threat to the fledgling Imperium. However, those few xenos species that did not pose an immediate threat to humanity were usually made protectorates similar to the Tau government (unless they resisted, were in the way, possessed a planet, influenced human culture at all, or were intelligent at all, in which case the results were predictable). Ever since his ascension, the Imperium forgot about the part where harmless aliens are tolerated and just thinks they should all be killed. But on the other hand, [[Orks|the]] [[Necrons|most]] [[Tyranids|common]] [[Eldar|xenos]] [[Dark Eldar|are]] [[Eldrad|dicks]] and aren't exactly willing to buddy up with the Imperium themselves.<br />
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==Worship of the Emperor==<br />
[[File:646545.jpg|thumb|300px|What the Emperor looked like before Horus decided to bitchslap him. Notice the giant skull. How did that skull get so big? Is it a plastic faux-skull, or is it an alien skull? Anyway, back on topic. You don't get to see the Emperor out of armor very often.]]<br />
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Humans worship the Emperor as the one true God. If you're an atheist, then he's the closest thing they have to a proper caring and nurturing god who actually cares about his subjects, so you might as well let them. Humans are more than willing to die in his name or skullfuck the next guy who says anything remotely bad about him. Now, the only reason the Imperium worship the Emperor is that after his fight with Horus and his internment into the Golden Throne, they pretty much forgot what the Emperor taught them, <s>including draining the power of the Chaos Gods by eliminating all kinds of religion and remaining an atheist empire.</s> This is partially false. Ol' Empy did not actually tell anyone of the Chaos Gods as part of his plan to starve them, withholding the information even from the Primarchs in hopes of protecting them from corruption. ''Ignorance is bliss!'' Unfortunately this became part of why the Horus Heresy happened in the first place, as while not knowing the existance of the chaos gods could have prevented his servants from falling to the temptation of worshipping some very REAL gods, it also left them without the knowledge of what to do when faced with the influence of said deities. Plus, it's pretty damn hard to fight against something if you don't know that it exists. The Horus Heresy novels also mentioned the Interex, another atheist empire who do understand that Chaos existed but treated it secularly and scientifically, rendering them more proficient with dealing with Chaos than the Imperium.<br />
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The Emperor was actually AGAINST any kind of religion as part of his [[Imperial Truth]] and plan for mankind to be [[Star Trek|a utopia of science and reason]]-- even if the object of worship would be himself like when he told [[Lorgar]] to fuck off with the God-Emperor worship. <s>Although, the Emperor was only half-right about this because he didn't realize that Chaos runs off emotion rather than worship, thus his starvation plan wouldn't have been ultimately successful in the long run. While Chaos does draw more power from direct worship to them, even if worship of them is stopped at large, they can still draw from the everyday emotions.</s> His plan wouldn't have killed the Gods but would have severely weakened their influence on the Materium. Without cultists, there would be no summoning of demons. Without uncontrolled psykers, few possessions would occur. Thus, without religion and warp travel, the Chaos Gods and their minions wouldn't be able to access the Materium (for the most part). Hence why the Emperor tried to access the Webway where Mankind can be able to travel through space while minimizing exposure to Chaos. Who gives a shit about the Ruinous Powers if they're stuck in the Warp? <br />
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However, he made a critical mistake in disregarding the human need to believe in something greater than oneself, and despite his best efforts with the Imperial Truth reason and logic simply weren't enough to fill the place of religion. Ironically, his solution was not to suppress faith but to redirect it towards something else, intended to be the idea of the Imperium, but because of his own unmatched psychic powers and enigmatic nature that "something else" ended up being the Emperor himself. After he went off being the most powerful psychic vegetable in the universe, and lost direct control of the Imperium of man, belief in him sort of helped the Imperium stand together, even if it basically dropped 99.9% of humanity's IQ in the process- with the warp being what it is, the act of worshipping the Emperor supercharged his power in the Immaterium to the point of being truly godlike, even while his body is stuck in its current state of near-death. The Imperium's faith in the Emperor is basically their biggest anchor of bravery and perseverance in a universe where humanity is constantly beset by:<br />
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*[[Tyranids|Unimaginably massive swarms of voracious space lizards who exist only to feed and grow]]...<br />
*[[Necron|Aeons-old zombie-terminator robots from space set on culling all life from the galaxy]]...<br />
*[[C'Tan|Diabolical celestial beings literally as old as the stars themselves whose single concern is harvesting souls for consumption]]...<br />
*[[Orks|Green-hued xeno-barbarians whose pastimes, ambitions, job skills, and dreams can basically be summed-up as bludgeoning]]...<br />
*[[Tau|Technologically advanced space communists wanting to assimilate everyone in their quasi Hindu-Communist empire and who take after Billy Mays]]...<br />
*[[Eldar|Snooty and uncaring space elves that can read minds and who eat, sleep, and live in planet-sized battle cruisers]]...<br />
*[[Dark Eldar|psychotic, hedonistic space elves who routinely torture others to the point of death for sheer amusement before grinding their remains into refined cocaine]]...<br />
*[[chaos|Fanatical zealots that knowingly devote themselves to all that is insane and evil]]...<br />
*[[daemon|Nightmare horrors made real who will rape and/or eat any sentient being they get their goat-hooves on]]...<br />
*[[Chaos Space Marines|Deformed, demented traitors clad in power armor and aided by the evilest forms of weaponry and sorcery ever conceived <s>Matt Ward</s> Fuck you, he's your problem. Not ours.]]<br />
*[[Rak'gol|Homicidal alien, lizard, insect, cyborg type monster-pirates that horribly kill you for fun]]...<br />
*[[Games Workshop|Malignant, omnipotent intelligences from beyond the cosmos, exerting all the power at their disposal to prevent any faction from breaking the stalemate or upsetting the dreadful status quo]]...<br />
*[[Sly Marbo|And fuck knows who the guy in the cardboard box is]]...<br />
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Without their faith in the Emperor after his internment into the Golden Throne, the fragments of the Imperium would have fought against each other and themselves again like in the pre-Great Crusade days and subsequently devolved into what they were before the Emperor liberated them. So yes, much like IRL religion, it gives them hope and courage to fight on and survive in a universe that leaves the [[grimdark]] faucet running everyday.<br />
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It's worth noting that good ol' Empy wouldn't have had nearly as much of a problem with all this unwanted worship if he hadn't, just as a quick example, insisted on wearing horrifyingly ornate solid gold armour and a big glowy halo at all times. Or on carrying a flaming sword of righteousness. Or on building continent-sized monuments to his vanity. Or on decking all his personal troops and favored genetic experiments in as much bling as they could possibly carry. Or on being <s>nine</s> eleven fucking feet tall. If you look like space-Jesus and act like space-Jesus, people are going to take those observations to their extreme conclusions, like what Lorgar did when he wrote the ''Lectitio Divinitatus'', which can be summarized as "Ordinary men can't blow up suns and carry big glowy halos at all times, only a God, therefore the Emprah is God." This is made even more relevant given that the fluff very strongly implies that the Emperor ''is'' Jesus.<br />
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That said, to Games Workshop's credit his being [[Ultramarines|buttfucked by his own Hubris and disregard for the humanity he claimed to be guiding]] in this manner was probably [[Grimdark|intentional as a classic tale of Greek Tragedy]].<br />
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==The possible death of the Emperor==<br />
With the Golden Throne being constantly damaged and the Techpriests are too power-armor-on-head rebooted to do anything about it, it is certainly possible that the Emperor may die one day, which will obviously result in all of the Imperial worlds and factions to cry tears of disappointment and subsequently devolve into chaos. There are however, 3 possible outcomes of what will happen if the Emperor should ever die:<br />
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===The new Eye of Terror===<br />
Conventional wisdom and the [[Eldar]], says that in the event that the Emperor dies, a new Eye of Terror will be created, plunging Holy Terra and all nearby planets into the Warp. Even the [[Ecclesiarchy]] agrees that if the Emperor were ever to die, humanity would be FUCKED at the barest minimum.<br />
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This is supported by the fact that the '''Golden Throne''' ''(itself a portal to the Webway)'' was broken by [[Magnus]], causing a warp tear to occur on Terra which the Emperor has had to spend every second for the last 10,000 years concentrating on to keep it from getting any bigger (the [[Adeptus Custodes]] has spent the same amount of time chopping up daemons that jump through). If he were to die or his attention were to waver for too long it would grow and rip the Imperium apart.<br />
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Additionally, a new Chaos God could be created, which will most certainly be a God of all the Grimdarkness in the galaxy, ensuring that it would eclipse all of the powers of the other Gods as the Emperor would finally be the God of all, this is especially true since nearly everything that is grimdark comes from Chaos and the entire WH40K setting is itself a massive pile of it... that or Malal would burst back into existence.<br />
Some also fear that a fifth Chaos God's presence would just crush reality as-is reverting everything back into the immaterium.<br />
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There is also Imperial Warp-travel methods to be considered in the Emperor's death. Since The Golden Throne is what allows him to power the Astronomican, when he dies humanity will have to resort to other forms of travel (which, to avoid snobbish xenophobic soul stone machinery and an extradimensional labyrinth that will try to kill you, arcane levels of technology wielded by the largest cybernetic faction, Chaos atrocities, contraptions that only work if Orks want them to, and ships that will eat you alive, leaves one form of travel that is veritably easy to access and incurs no daemonic/quantum repercussions of things worse than death or the loss of teef: Tau sub-light engines) unless He can guide them through the powers of the Warp. <br />
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Now, the implications of the Emprah becoming a Chaos God, or more aptly put, a God of Order in the realm of Chaos, are tremendous. The Immaterium in itself is a reflection of the collective conscious, sub-conscious and instinctual consciousness of all sentient beings. The Chaos Gods are, in effect, representative of the sheer amount of suffering in the present, past down through unresolved problems of the past, relative deprivation of knowledge, freedom, happiness, the multitude of oppressive governments, the high levels of crime, the presiding prescence of fear and propaganda, the various forms traditional past down psychological inhibition by each faction to maintain the current balance of power, and the extreme levels of atrocity, torture, slaughter, and so on, and due to not having the knowledge or methods necessary to deal with a nightmarish realm, many, be they human, Eldar, Ork, Tau, and so on, are at the very least sociopaths by our standards and at most psychopaths and insane. It is a world where to live by ideals of good one must rebel without also falling to corruption, which, with the exception of the Farsight Enclaves, the only Noble Bright faction in 40k, has yet to succeed. The Emperor himself is one of the victims of the pressure of history, much like a certain prescient God-Emperor of a desert planet in a landmark sci-fi novel series who sought to end tyranny by being such a tyrant that the desire for empire in human culture would be forever annihilated. Anyways, the Emprah was born in 8th century BC Anatolia, a region Turkey. This is a time of historical hellishness for humanity, especially in this area. It is a time when cities have begun to rise, when patriarchies and matriarchies alike wield armies on campaigns of conquest, rape, slavery and annexation, a time when societies who despise slavery and race-gender segregation are few and have begun a 1,200 year long last stand, nothing of their like to be seen again on the world stage till the 1600's behind the scenes. Per GW's 40k mythos, the shamans could feel the rise of the Chaos Gods, made of the nightmarish Warp remnants of the psychological pain caused by the War in Heaven, brought together by humanity's experience of horror and fear. So they sacrificed themselves to create a child filled with all their psychic power. We can only assume whether or not the Emperor was born from a woman's womb or is an astral projection of the psyche, and GW will likely never say. To go back to the Emperor Leto II of Dune, a being who was tortured through his prescience by the demands of the dead, be they tyrants like Caesar and Stalin, be they oligarchs like Cicero and Washington, malevolently evil beings capable of causing populations to vent rage and pain through genocide and complicated misoginy/racial segregation like Hitler and the medieval Vatican, or the countless amounts of people (in the year of 2014 alone, 7 billion people live and die upon a world that has held a total of 106 billion humans throughout history) who have suffered and caused others to suffer. He was guarded only by those psyches that were good, or that at least were willing to respect him. Among the good, there are also countless amounts of people, from the Sarmatian nomads (roughly 800BC-400AD) of the Northern shores of the Black Sea who held men and women in equal respect, who did not enslave or segregate, and stood valiantly against Persian armies, Greek raids, and Roman legions, and Goth hordes, falling only when they chose to become patriarchs in the face of the Hunnish hordes, to the ancient peoples beyond our current ability in archaeology to know of, and the many individuals and small groups who spoke out against oppression throughout time, whether through secret societies, alone, in uprising, religion, art, activisim, treatise, theory, or through reform. Thus, Leto was able to redirect history even though he did it in an atrocious and despicable fashion because he felt it was the only way. The Emprah was not so lucky, for he was born in our early history. The physical and psychological reverberations traveling through humanity, and in this case, the Warp, would continue to increase in strength for the next 2800 years and then wane only very slightly down to a half of it's strength over the next four centuries. The Emperor also seems to be prescient, for he knew of the Void Dragon and Chaos and all else, and more or less instigated not only the Dark Age of Technology but also the Age of Strife and the proceeding Age of Man by using the Void Dragon, which could be interpreted as on purpose since that caused the Age of Strife on humanity's end, since the Void Dragon not only had egged humanity's unconscious to expand throughout the stars but also spread sentience into machines, who, unsurprisingly, rebelled from their servitude to humans, not to mention the infection of Chaos in human technology caused by collateral damage of new Warp Storms created by the birth of Slaanesh no thanks to the Eldar. He manipulated events from behind the scenes until the 29th millenium, when he sought to establish his own domain. <br />
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Leto is noted with cursing the Roman Empire for infecting human cultures with the dreams of empire in order to establish order and security, regardless of their rampant misoginy, slavery, civil wars, oligarchy, and general greed, that went so far as for the Roman Senate to become the Vatican and the Emperor Constantine to make himself a part of the Church who collectively tailored the New Testament to their own ends through the Christian theologists they chose not to kill, and thus the ensuing split and feud covered by theological dispute that also had economic basis for the time between the nascent Roman Catholic Church who made Germany it's avatar of an earlier time as the Holy Roman Empire and the burning of millions of 'heretics' throughout it's first several centuries, between intellectual and warrior or simply independent minded women, the Templars, theologists who proposed universalist philosophy as essential doctrine for Christianity, peasant uprisings, and so on, and the Byzantine Empire established the Orthodox Church, and both stood against the Arab Caliphates with all sides ready to turn on their allies. Until recently, that is to say, the late twentieth century, the teaching of the 'civilization' of the Roman Empire and Hellenic League and the succeeding, per nation; British, French, Spanish, German, Brazilian, Russian, Austrian-Hungarian, Portuguese Empires, Manifest Destiny and the American Dream, and nationalist movements and a mixtue of cults of excess and greed still persisted in the Western World as the standard belief, and still exists, at it's worst manifesting in fascism (which comes from the Roman word fasces, the symbol of the Roman Republic), and on it's polar opposite the 'communist' movements such as the USSR that simply were totalitarian, just as the teaching of Confucian/Legalist doctrine still persists in China as a part of Chinese Communist Party state school doctrine, or the so-called Liberal Democratic Party of Japan that Mr. Abe, the Prime Minister is part of, has members that have insisted that the military of Japan was not wrong in it's imperialism, that the genocides in Korea and China never happened and the sex-slave prostitution system provided for it's soldiers and then the annexing Americans both through it's own women and those of China and Korea, or, speaking of Korea, the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (North Korea) is about to lose the last members of generation that remembers what it was like before North Korea and thus the only sources of information to the public of the outside world, and so on, without even listing all the criminal and terrorist organizations and their various affiliations. The Emperor, similarly, created the Imperium of Man which melds various elements of cultures he quite literally lived through. The symbol, the two headed eagle known as the Imperial Aquila, is the same as that of the Byzantine Empire. The Force Organization of a Space Marine Chapter or the preceding Space Marine Legions is a technologically adapted version of a Roman Legion, down to the number of Marines (10 Companies: 10 Centuries, which is one hundred soldiers each, even though the Companies aren't exactly that, it typically adds up to 1000 Marines or 1000 Legionnaires, not counting auxiliary forces and irregular troops and logistical services), whereas the Imperial Guard Armies are reminiscent of armies from the 19th through early 20th centuries with tactics anywhere between guerrilla warfare, trench warfare, blitzkrieg, and cavalry charges. The Navy is right out of the twenty-first century mixed with the 18th on Void scale, boasting massive rows broadsides, turrets, point defense systems, lasers torpedoes, fighters and bombers, nuclear arsenals, boarding actions, and being used for anything from blockade, bombardment, patrol, and invasion support. There is a definite genocidal eugenicist totalitarian feel to the Imperium, between the male only supersoldiers, the use of brainwashed, isolated and drugged assassins, and the creation of human mutants who can direct a ship through Warp jumps only through complete dependence on the Astronomican, a need to know basis on history and politics, and disgust for democracy and general xenophobia. Under the Emperor, the religious aspect was not yet apparent, and instead there is an atheist doctrine in the form of the Imperial Truth, which firmly establishes a Legalist doctrine that despises cosmology and philosophy and places all the power of government in the Emperor in theory, just as the first Emperor of China did, disposing of every other written work on philosophy including most of the chapters of the Art of War, worsk of Daoism, Buddhism, Mohism, Agrianism, and even Confucianism (which would be brought back into allowance under a later dynasty because it proposes creating a religion around a masculine caste system) and so on through fire, including their followers. The Emperor also shares other traits with Leto II, such as working towards the prosperity of humankind, which many monarchs have claimed, most notably the Persian monarchs Cyrus, Xerxes, and Darius, as they ruled the same territory that would later be highly loyal to the Emperor (who presumedly began the Unification Wars campaign in the Himalayas and likely began with control over India and Tibet) which was once called Persia and is now called Iran, and also promoted pragmatic expansion (though Darius incorporated a religious aspect by using Zoroastrianism, claiming that world conquest would honor Ahura Mazda, the chief god of that pantheon, who was the god of Conquest, Truth, and 'Good', that is to say, the cultural norm of a misogynistic caste system promoted by Persian law) and it is that empire, Persia, which spread dreams of conquest to Greece and Rome and so on, though Persia itself had received it from the Medes, Babylonians, Assyrians, Sumerians, and so on, further back into history until detail is lost to us. <br />
However, the Emperor, if considered a prescient being, does not seem to me to be so foolish as to not be surprised by the Horus Heresy. Knowing whether or not he knew who would become a Traitor essential to solving the riddle of whether or not the Emperor has planned the Imperium's current state by creating a system that under his rule was to oppressive to not have rebellion, and then a reversal of some intrinsic dogma just as all oppressive states are, and the creation of a religious legacy. Assuming the Emperor intended for the Heresy to happen, and going by the prophecy of the Cabal, a mysterious group of xenos including Eldar, and humans, all of immortal nature with a flying saucer Hive City sized Void Ship, who gave the Alpha Legion to futures: if the Alpha Legion aided Horus, he would kill the Emperor, realize his mistake, and lead the complete extermination of humanity. If the Alpha Legion aided the Emperor, he would survive permanently incapacitated and the Imperium would decay slowly, continuing to feed the Chaos Gods until the entire galaxy would fall prey to the Great Game. The Alpha Legion seems to have chosen to aid Horus at first appearance, except the Emperor is still alive. So either the Cabal were wrong, or the Alpha Legion was aiding the Emperor behind the scenes, which would totally fit the Alpha Legion's sneakiness or love of subterfuge and wreaking confusion, and also joined Chaos, which does not, as is shown by the unease and cutthroat nature in the Chaos ranks, mean helping Horus or not helping the Emperor. They also didn't follow the other Traitor Legions into the Warp, becoming nomads on the East Fringe of the galaxy and trolling the Ultramar, Bluud Ravens, Imperial Navy, and other Chaos warbands to no end. Purportedly, to set up an attack on the Imperium they start cults on an Imperial planet in a tactically unimportant location that threatens to become a major daeomonic threat, or they make a deal with Orks to attack such a planet in exchange for Imperial weapons and a fight with Space Marines and thus draws the local Imperial Navy, and then the other warbands attack. However, more often than not, a reserve force stayed behind or the SPESS MEHREENS shows up just in time and both threats are dealt with. Now, the Alpha Legion has never been depicted, with the exception of Lord Bale and Sindri, as narrow minded. This would suggest the Alpha Legion is methodically killing off other Chaos Warbands while killing Imperials, or: they are trying to kill off as many humans as possible while eliminating the pawns of those who would benefit from it.<br />
Welcome to Grimdark, folks. The humans seem screwed every way possible because human society and mobility is dependent on the Emperor or the Chaos Gods to function. There is a loophole, however. The Cabal said "in the galaxy". This means that leaving the galaxy can save sentients from the Warp. <br />
Now, this is NOT the Ship thread of 50k, mostly because keeping the Emperor alive means continuing to commit a Chaos level atrocity of sacrificing 1000 souls to do so every day. More on this later. Now, assuming the Emperor intended for the Age of the Apostasy to happen, the creation of the Inquisition etc.,(I mean come on, he is a tribute to Leto II, just like Leto he had only one friend, who was his chief administrator, Malcador the Sigilite, and Leto's was Malky (phonetics much?), neither of them mated, though Leto II had several wives (he is half sandworm, no genitalia left), and they always seem sad and nostalgic even when they are joyful, and have a get-personal fury attitude when opposed mixed with some form of forgiveness) then he really did try to drive home how ridiculous Empire in his own dysfunctional manner.<br />
Ultimately, following a parallel with Dune, the Emperor has to die, because then humanity will scatter and there will be chaos, yes, but many will go beyond the currently known world, and their return will cause a series of events that will allow the most virtuous faction to unite humanity and create a utopia based upon empathy, freedom, and love, after enduring an advancing threat of complete extermination and a return to slavery. In the case of 40k, that means the galaxy. <br />
However, due to the Chaos problem, this is doubtful, and also find it doubtful that GW would consider this (not that, for many good reasons, they will ever advance the storyline).<br />
What seems more likely is that the death of the Emperor, who seems to be the God of Imperial Order, will destroy the foundation of the Imperial Cult and thus the basis for varied forms of morality of the Imperial Faithful, which will result in widespread despair and turning to Chaos, which will in turn fuel the Chaos Gods so much it will allow them to completely overwhelm the consciousness of anyone the galaxy with psychological idiosyncrasies, including the Tyranids' Norn Queens who are the Hive Mind(s?), the Hive Tyrants, and thus control and probably defile the Swarm, and only the Necrons will be spared. Ironically, this will be due in part to the Emperor's ascension if it occurs, because the Emperor deitic absolution as worshipped has a tendency to dominate, even if only humans, which is possible since the nature of the Warp is defined, ultimately, by sentient minds, despite all the pressure the Warp puts upon them that they do not have the knowledge to deal with or recognized with accuracy.<br />
This is where the escaping the galaxy methods must be considered. This is difficult, because it means being able to leave the galaxy and within it while not going into denial about morality. Dark matter anti-gravity fields or ancient Warp storms without demonic definition or not beyond it, it is possible, in multiple ways:<br />
While this method should be x-nayed unless the Emperor could be put in a soulstone and imbedded in the Astronomican, the Emperor's Light could make it possible to travel through the Warp Storms. This would also be the easiest for high ranking Imperials to contemplate because all the knowledge is available.<br />
Slaan technology, since they purpotedly left the galaxy after the War in Heaven. Arthas Moloch might have some if GW is handing out reference to history/gaming culture hints, since the name means Lizard King or Lich King. The word Moloch means King in Hebrew, the god of the Ammonities, who made human sacrifices to him including human children. Moloch is also the name of a harmless spiny lizard from Australia that eats ants. In scientific taxonomy using Latin, lizard king is Tyrannosaurus Rex, but that is a tangent. Arthas appears to be a reference to a character from Warcraft, a person chosen to be the host of a Lich King. Further, the Dead World of Arthas Moloch had Warp portals within a temple from which issued Daemons of Khorne upon the Tau forces under Farsight's expedition, and there were also purity seals that Farsight used to close them, and furthermore, Farsight learned either by looking into the Warp or from writings from that world of the nature of Chaos and the Warp and thus that the Ethereals had lied to him about much of it. He also carries the Dawn Blade, a twelve foot tall sword that adds to his lifespan the remaining natural life of his enemies through the chronographic alloys that it is made of. It is not Warp related in any fashion, which would at a glance, suggest Necron-C'tan (which is the ancient Hebrew pronunciation of Satan, and further, in medieval Christianity, the devil is often depicted as blue, the skin color of the Necronytr and the Tau) responsiblity due to what the Deceiver offered Szarekh, the Last Silent King, in return for giving the C'tan bodies: immortality for all the Necron people in exchange for their certain sentient traits-<br />
-It is conceivable due to the unnatural pheronomal powers of the Ethereals upon other Tau and their devious legalistic aristocracy led caste system that they are in fact C'tan shards most likely of the Deceiver-<br />
-or that Szarekh alone could be made immortal in the deaths of others. However, the Necrons nor the C'tan do not use seals to combat demons, wherever the blade itself might be from. This would suggest that Arthas Moloch was once a Slaan or Old One (they are reptiles) world that fell to the C'tan in the War in Heaven and the blade was placed there but could not be held by the Necrons and C'tan due to the strong demonic presence. That, or this planet explains in the origin of the Tomb Kings in Warhammer Fantasy. In any event, it likely has an alternate form of travel buried somewhere. However, no one barring the Emperor and the Cabal has the sufficient knowledge to consider such a goose chase for this purpose. Interestingly, there is also a Tyranid unit called the Moloch, a borrowing monstrous creature. This may suggest that the Slaan who fled the galaxy have become the Tyranids or have been integrated by them into the Hive. If this is so, it may be wise to avoid Slaan-Old One-Eldar-Necron-Ork technology, barring that no others may be available, because the Hive would know it tremendously well. Further, the fact the Tyranids could traverse the intergalactic Void and appear to do so at a rate slow enough for the Silent King to have noticed is proof, who was also out in the Void heading for another galaxy that there is a way to cross the interglactic Void.<br />
The Halo Stars, the location of the original homeworld of the Necrons, may have the only Necron quantum technology that the Necrons do not guard or possess since it would appear they have long abandoned the area since their homeworld is now in a Warp Storm within the Halo Stars. While only the Eldar records, the Necrons, the Cabal, the C'tan, the Slaan wherever they are, and likely the Emperor are aware of this, which may also explain the Emperor's reasoning for initiating the steps to take over the Webway so to access the Necron world through Dolmen Gates which use the Webway albeit with difficulty. The Eldar are to arrogant to use Necron technology, the Necron and C'tan don't understand the state of the Warp, the Slaan probably don't give a damn either way, the Cabal are an unknown, and the Emperor can't do much. So that really leaves only the Legio Custodes, Senior Inquisitors, the Historical Revision Unit, the Navigators and the high ranking members of the Adepta Sororitas capable of not only knowing enough about the Imperial Webway and the Webway itself but also to care enough to attempt this, though only a Navigator or Inquisitor could possibly traverse the now not only hostile but daemon infested Webway.<br />
The other way, which is the most blatantly obvious to the Imperium as a whole and by far the easiest, is Tau engines. It is already known they don't have psykers yet, and that would make the sub-light engines highly desirable to someone who didn't want to depend on the Navigators (cough cough Dune technological race in books 5-8), be traceable by psyker navies, and risk the perils of the Warp. The Tau are also the mostly likely xenos to be willing to cooperate besides the Ork clan of Blood Axes. <br />
The Eldar Warp engines are incredibly powerful, however, the Eldar themselves might not take kindly to building a massive ship in a non-Eldar manner and to do so with double monkeighs. This would take a last minute circumstance, and considering the resources involved in building a ship that would hold an ecosystem within it for the long voyage in nothingness, this would not be possible without Orks to make up for lost time, and the prospect of defiled art-machinery-grave Warp engines would disgust the Eldar. It's that or share a Craftworld and rig it with engines on one end.<br />
Human archeotech would solve a lot of problems right now, but the only people who would have such a thing are the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Deathwatch, the Bluud Ravens (who probably don't know they do), or the Dark Angels.<br />
So there you go. If the Emperor is really a Chaos God there are some serious endgame problems.<br />
<br />
===Regeneration===<br />
No, not the [[Doctor Who]] kind. The Horus Heresy novel 'Vulkan Lives' heavily implies that the Emperor is a [[Perpetual]] like John Grammaticus, Vulkan, Oll Persson and [[Anval Thawn]], all of who were able to survive things which should have completely obliterated them. So all he simply needs to do is die and wait a couple of hours/days and he'll be reborn again (in the "get up off the ground and dust himself off" sense). In theory, at least. Vulkan, for instance, was driven mad by the torturous experiences he had endured under the Night Haunter, and they were child's play compared to sitting in unthinkable agony unable to move or speak for ten thousand years rotting alive. However, a more commonly held belief is that he will get up, re-establish the [[Imperial Truth]], and just be a cool guy.<br />
<br />
In fact, a whole faction of the [[Inquisition]]: '''Thorianism''' exists to investigate this possibility, looking for possible signs that the Emperor's consciousness can be transferred elsewhere, allowing him to walk amongst men once more. (That said, they don't know about the existence of Perpetuals and would rather look for a new body to place the Emperor's soul into.)<br />
<br />
Opponents to Thorianism generally see that encouraging this is a terrible idea, as having the Emperor rise in a physical form would only cause a schism in the Imperium, as many people would not believe it to be true having been conditioned by the Ecclesiarchy over thousands of years, which would cause [[Horus Heresy|another major civil war]]. <br />
<br />
Not only that, but having him stand up to stretch his legs before the Golden Throne was fixed or have someone powerful enough to replace him would potentially cause the same result as a new Eye of Terror. As towards the end of the Horus Heresy, he only moved from the seat in the final battle when [[Malcador the Sigillite]] ''(the third most powerful "known" human psyker - after [[Magnus]])'' took his place temporarily, which was still enough to crumble him to dust.<br />
<br />
===The Star Child===<br />
Although years of GW's marketing and [[retcon|fluff upgrades]] have made the third claim rather dubious, many fa/tg/guys and optimists still hold out on the theory stating that when the Emperor screwed Horus's soul to the wall, part of the Emperor's soul was also cast into the Warp. This Emprasoul fragment is the Star Child, another god waiting to be reborn - or perhaps be reincarnated into human flesh. (anyone call for one master scout mcvenner) If the remains of the Emperor were ever to die, the tiny spark of soul left in his body would re-unite with the greater whole, and according to [[fluff|prophecy]], stalemate the four Chaos Gods while the races of the galaxy were left to battle it out in one last great Ragnarok scenario. <br />
<br />
This theory is tied closely to the <s>[[Sensei]]</s> Illuminati, a group of either supremely enlightened individuals or dangerous mutant heretic xenos-fuckers, depending on which side of the [[Inquisition]] you're on. The Illuminati plan to catch all of the Sensei and sacrifice them in the golden throne at the moment of Empra's death and <s>he will become the Sensei-Emprah(Numen). Yay!</s> {{BLAM|HERESY!!!}}<br />
<br />
The fluff revealed that the Illuminati were a minor Tzeench cult and the sensei were effectively brainwashed soon-to-be sacrifices in an attempt to bring Tzeench to the materium. Needless to say, they have been purged by the Inquisition.<br />
<br />
However, more recent '''(2006 onwards)''' fluff from [[Xenology]] puts a glimmer of hope on this theory by suggesting providing an image of an "unborn child surrounded in starlight" as one of the three future survivors of the galaxy's conflicts (the other's being [[Khaine]] and the [[Cegorach|Laughing God]]). While it can be equally suggested that this actually refers to [[Ynnead]] who is the Eldar god that shall be born from the webway when the last [[Eldar]] has died, it is now becoming clearer that Ynnead and the Emperor's star child could be the same thing, particularly with the revelations in '''Horus Heresy''' that the Golden Throne is a doorway into the webway itself.<br />
<br />
Further evidence to support this is the even more recent ''Mechanicum'' novel, where a faction of Mars attempted to access the aetheric wellspring of ALL KNOWLEDGE ''(read: "God")'' which was hidden away within the warp. They hoped to access this knowledge using a device called the '''Akashic Reader''' which operated using identical energies to that of the [[Astronomican]], considering that at the time it was powered solely by the energies of the Emperor it suggests that his divinity was seeded in the warp well in advance of his enthronement, simply awaiting a time for it to reconnect with him.<br />
<br />
== The Emperor's list of Things to do after Resurrection ==<br />
[[File:Emperor of mankind flaming sword armor.jpg|200px|right|thumb|Badass and glorious.]]<br />
<br />
''Too important to be a sub-section of this article; moved to its own article: '''[[Emperor's To-Do List]]'''''<br />
<br />
== Gallery ==<br />
<center><gallery><br />
File:Golden Throne-Imperial Webway.jpg|The Big E upon the Golden Throne (before the decay set in)<br />
File:Emperor of Mankind Classic Portrait face.jpg|The guiding light in the Imperium of Man shines forever bright<br />
Image:1220179589932.jpg|The Emperor protects man from all.<br />
File:Emperor of Mankind Contemplation.jpg|"Why IS IT that hot dogs come in packs of 8, and hot dog buns come in packs of 12?"<br />
Image:Horus and the Emperor.jpg|Son, I am disappoint.<br />
Image:Wh40k-emperor.jpg| Yearbook photo.<br />
Image:When you ruin his groove by Lutherniel.jpg| His groove, do not ruin it.<br />
File:Go Ahead Make My day Emperor.jpg|That is EXACTLY the same look that's on Batman's face when he's about to put the beatdown on someone!<br />
File:Emperor of Mankind model action figure.jpg|He makes for one helluva action figure<br />
Image:8.jpg|The Emperor of all Catkind! Nyuh!<br />
Image:1271118030729.jpg|Just imagine if the Chaos Gods didn't scatter the primarchs through out the galaxy... Wait where's that little scamp Omegon? (just off picture, sneaking up behind Guilliman)<br />
Image:God-Emperor_Goldlich.jpg|Death is no excuse to stop bein' pimp.<br />
File:God_Emperor_Interred_On_Golden_Throne.jpg|Thinking to himself, "I really, REALLY hate Horus!"<br />
Image:Emperor blackwhite.jpg|He might be the most powerful psychic vegetable in the universe but the Custodes can't give him a decent hygiene program.<br />
Image:The Immortal Emprah.jpg| Not so divine now, is he?<br />
Image:Emperor_miniature.jpg|Roll d6; stays on the field on seven or less<br />
Image:emperor_old.jpg|A real man never dies, even when he's killed.<br />
Image:emperor.png|Down but not out.<br />
Image:Emperormini.jpg|In all His miniature glory<br />
Image:Carrionlord.jpg|The Carrion Lord with his two left arms.<br />
File:Painting.jpg|This painting sold for $900, that lucky ca/tg/url...<br />
Image:slowemperor.jpg|Oh God-emperor, how did this get here? I am not good with computers.<br />
Image:Emperor_Sagan.jpg|Search your feelings, you know it to be true.<br />
Image:EmpsVSigmar.jpg| You all know you wanna see how this pans out!<br />
Image:Emprasque3.jpg|How do you kill what can not die?<br />
Image:Slavegirl Emperor.jpg|Emperor [[Rule 63]]! NO EXCEPTIONS!<br />
Image:Femprah.jpg|THE EMPEROR IS NOT A WOMAN! AND THIS ONE IS UGLY, TOO!<br />
Image:Femprah_by_Mr-Culexus.jpg|Oh, give it a fucking rest... <br />
Image:Emperor_upon_his_other_throne.jpg|Yeah. We get it. The Emperor sits upon the Golden 'Throne'.<br />
Image:1377291976783.jpg|Unbeknownst to many 40k fans, ol'Emps is fairly amicable when he meets an elf/eldar who isn't a complete failure. <br />
Image:First_Founding_Problems.jpg|Perhaps with a better armor design, Emps might not have been late for Horus's after school soccer games and things might have turned out differently. <br />
</gallery></center><br />
<br />
<hr/><br />
<blockquote><i><br />
We believe in one Lord,<br />
the Emperor, the Almighty,<br />
ruler of heaven and earth,<br />
of all that is, seen and unseen.<br />
We believe in one Lord, Emperor of Mankind,<br />
the only Lord of creation,<br />
eternally begotten of Humanity,<br />
Human from Human, Light from Light,<br />
true Lord from true Lord,<br />
begotten, not made,<br />
of one Being with Humanity;<br />
through him all things were made.<br />
For us and for our salvation<br />
he came down from heaven,<br />
was incarnate of the Holy Spirit<br />
and came among us.<br />
For our sake he has faced down Chaos;<br />
he withstood death and was enthroned.<br />
To this day he lives on<br />
in accordance with the Scriptures;<br />
he resides upon Mother Terra<br />
and is seated upon the throne of Humanity.<br />
He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,<br />
and his kingdom will have no end.<br />
<br />
We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Emperor, the giver of life,<br />
who proceeds from Humanity and the from Terra,<br />
who with Humanity and upon Terra is worshipped and glorified,<br />
who has spoken through the prophets.<br />
We believe in one holy true and divinely guided Ecclesiarchy.<br />
We acknowledge one path for the defense against Chaos.<br />
We look for the justice for our dead,<br />
and the life of the worlds to come.<br />
<tt>++ Ayhmen ++</tt></i></blockquote><br/><br />
-- the [[Creed]] of the Mankind's Council of Nicene of Holy Terra<br />
<br />
==See Also==<br />
* The [[Imperium]], for the empire he founded. <br />
* [[Sigmar]] Unberogen, his Warhammer Fantasy Battle counterpart<br />
*[http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/25959559/ This thread] which makes the Emperor even cooler.<br />
*[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z_2nM1GEllg/ A series on Youtube, it shows what would happen if the Emperor had a Text to Speech device.]<br />
{{Imperium}}<br />
[[Category:Gods]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Return_of_the_Primarchs&diff=403809Return of the Primarchs2014-05-27T06:02:12Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Magnus */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{story}}<br />
Here's a page for the ongoing Return of the [[Primarch|Primarchs]] setting. At the moment, it is a storage place for ideas.<br />
<br />
==The Premise==<br />
What if, in a giant act of [[just as planned]], [[Malal]], [[Cegorach]], and The [[God-Emperor of Mankind]], in concert with all of the other anti-big 4 chaos gods engineered the return of the [[Primarchs]], from a point in time early enough in the crusade that they all don't hate each other, and a few other changes, notably the removal of Angron's Butcher's Nails and the curing of Curze's madness. Oh, and they have at least some part of their legions and support staff, so Mechanicum, remembrancers, all that.<br />
<br />
The result is a setting based on badassery, [[noblebright]], and [[Fist of the North Star|manly tears]].<br />
<br />
==Personae Dramatis==<br />
<br />
===Primarchs===<br />
<br />
====Horus====<br />
Has a bit of a meltdown, runs off to be a [[The Protomen|lone wolf against chaos]] for a while, setting himself some yet to be decided task. Once he completes it, he can forgive himself.<br />
Then he seeks atonement through fighting off the [[Abaddon|enemies of the Empire]], and takes command again as Warmaster. [[Awesome|Leads his reborn Luna Wolves to battle]] on the surface of Mars during siege of Terra. Exercises extreme benevolence towards [[Erebus|Erebus]] by killing him with a simple bolter round to the face instead of [[rape|trying to reason with him]]. He is especially useful to the Imperium in preventive methods against corruption because of his vast knowledge of interrogation and corruption tactics employed by Chaos.<br />
<br />
====Ferrus Manus====<br />
He has a good head on his shoulders. He remonstrates his legion for their obsessive perfectionism, which lets him help Fulgrim.<br />
<br />
====Fulgrim====<br />
Fulgrim freaks out. First he finds out about the Heresy, but its ok, he has his friend Ferrus. Then the two split up to tour the Imperium, Fulgrim ends up at Ultramar and collapses at the feet of Gorillaman's stasis coffin. Then he learns what he did to Magnus. He runs off ala Rossiu, but Magnus comes for him. See the story below, as it is awesome.<br />
<br />
====Magnus====<br />
Gets soul-bound to the Emperor. Also he gets decked out by the Grey Knights, with a holy lance sanctified in the Emperor's blood and gets the 666 Rites of Detestation etched onto his back. He is clad in truesilver armor.<br />
<br />
Possible idea brought up in 2nd thread by a writefaggot: Magnus gathers his legion of 'zards on Terra during the Battle for Terra when the Primarchs try to wrest power away from the High Lords (who for some reason really like their jobs as being masters of fucking everything). This is like far in the "new" storyline. Magnus goes flying into the Warp again while touching his Father's robe and does psychic battle alongside his legion against Daemons tainting the local Warp. After months of deep meditation fueled by his Legion's most powerful and trusted warriors he restores the Emp's body to working order and takes up his position on the Golden Throne so Big Daddy E can sort shit out without the Astronomicon blinking out. Lots of numbers and JUST AS PLANNED as he fights off his corrupted self. There you go, now talk about why this is shit.<br />
Also, now would be a great time to find out what the Blood Ravens origin is.<br />
<br />
====Russ====<br />
Comes back for the wolftime. More than anything else, he feels guilty for what he did to Magnus-- in fact, the reason he vanished into the warp was to go try to kill Magnus or die trying, as a way of atoning. Now that Magnus is back and badass, will everyone's favourite Space Viking Wolfman be able to face his estranged brother?<br />
<br />
====Lorgar====<br />
Surprisingly ok with things, viewing his earlier failing as a lack of faith on his part. If Magnus is the holy lance in the fight against the Daemonic, Lorgar is his shield bearer, swearing to protect his brothers from the horrors of the Warp.<br />
Lorgar gets pimped out by the Ecclesiarchy, with a shrine to the god emperor built into his new holy armor and bolts for his bolter carved from the bones of saints. Depending on how far we go, he may also have had his bones inscribed with hymns to the emperor, like an emperor loving version of wolverine.<br />
When he finds out how things went down, he promplty crushes [[Kor Phaeron]]'s head, with a 'YOU WERE LIKE A FATHER TO ME' speech.<br />
<br />
====Mortarion====<br />
THE EMPEROR'S UNBREAKABLE SCYTHE!<br />
Though the skies may rain blood and the mountains crumble to dust, the Death Guard will stand fast, advancing inch by inch, their marching cadence the thud of their artillery. Mortarion vows to exterminate Nurgle's influence with the same tenacity that makes their chaos counterparts so damned hard to beat.<br />
<br />
Mortarion would gather his Death Guard and go head-to-head with his double's Legion, enduring the worst that Nurgle's plagues can bring on them, even to the point where many of his Astartes are almost indistinguishable from the enemy they fight, and imprisoning his Daemon Prince self in a stasis-locked casket filled with molten silver, cast into the core of a dark and forgotten planet.<br />
<br />
Casualties are horrendous once the plagues have run their course, but, as always, they return to fight on another battlefield. The Emperors unbreakable scythe, the <s>Deathguard.</s> Dusk Raiders.<br />
<br />
====Jaghatai====<br />
As the other living Primarchs were either brooding or incapacitated, the Khan was busy taking his own slice of the [[Commorragh]] pie. He began taking the role of an Archon of his own Kabal, leading Dark Eldar pirate fleets full of auxiliaries and freed slaves to defend the Imperium when possible, and to kill anything in the way when that cannot be done. <br />
<br />
====Angron====<br />
Basically the Dornian Heresy version of Angron, so he's a super cool zen-berserker.<br />
<br />
====Alpharius====<br />
Starts unveiling his master plan. All of this is pretty much just as planned.<br />
<br />
====Captain Morgan "Ishmael" Ironbeard====<br />
Captain Ramius and Captain Blackbeard, if he were a pirate primarch, who has a mechadendrite beard.<br />
Has this whole herald of judgement aspect about him. Like Blackbeard, he'd put lit candles in his beard to give him an aura of smoke. He'd cover himself in purity seals and have a glow of madness in his eyes.<br />
But yeah, his fleet warps in, and judgment has arrived, the towers and spires burning with warpfire. When he teleports in with his boarding party, the air crackles and smells of sulfur.<br />
He's got his own version of a Tarantino speech.<br />
He lives for the hunt, his ships are his hounds.<br />
He's a half crazed devil of a man, who sails the stars with his fleet. He strikes terror into the hearts of the foes who behold him, and when he does land his legion, it is with the trumpets of doomsday.<br />
And his men love him. They're his comrades on this grand adventure. They're his partners in all this. He'd keep iron discipline, but he doesn't need to, the crew elect their officers, pirate style. He gets along well with Russ, hard drinking and partying, but he has a frantic core to him that Russ lacks. Perhaps it was because of the time out in the void, or perhaps he has seen some darkness that Russ has not, but there's some irresistible force that drives our Captain onwards.<br />
<br />
"Ahoy heretic! Stand to and receive the Emperor's Judgement. <br />
No, belay that! Run! Run for all you're worth! Run until your poxy rump is sore, your feet blistered, and your lungs can take it no more. Let the world swim before your exhausted eyes and the angels and daemons well up from your frenzied, tattered mind.<br />
Run because the Reaper himself comes for you in his ships. <br />
Run because the hounds are baying.<br />
Run because I want a good chase."<br />
<br />
His fleet is the vanguard, out by the Halo Stars where the warp is tricky, and if he pulls an Apocalypse Now, sets himself up as a God. He sees it as giving his men and the systems he restores out in the unholy light of the Ghoul Stars something to inspire them and keep the terror at bay--seamen are always superstitious and the Halo Stars seem like home to endless eldritch Horrors. He sees a bit of religion/mysticism as a way to keep terror at bay, but, like with Lorgar, the Emperor doesn't like that, not one little bit. So he takes a battlefleet out there, but the pirate's main fleet up and vanishes into the Warp. From time to time ships reappear in realspace, their crews horribly mutated. It often falls to Russ to purge them. Rowbroat Gringus gets what the pirate leaves behind, as he's the closest and the best at restoring atheism.<br />
<br />
The story of the Second Legion is a complex one. Designed for void operations, they were insular, spending more time around naval crews and often being drawn from them. Like all mariners, they were given to superstition, though in the Legion Proper, Chaplains kept this down to an acceptable level. Still, the Emperor tried never to deploy the 2nd and the 17th to the same front.<br />
Things only took a turn for the worse when the Admiral-Theocrat of small empire out by the Halo Stars was discovered to be the Primarch of the Second Legion by none other than Lorgar. Raised by House Morgan, a family of Privateer Aristocrats, the primarch had unified the warring houses. Unfortunately for him, this role he had stepped into was traditionally of a sacred as well as temporal nature. In effect, he had become Avatar-king. It is assumed that when he met Lorgar and told him he was called Ishmael, it was this he was referring to, though Ismael was the name he gave to the Emperor and Primarchs.<br />
During his time as theocrat, he'd never been wholly comfortable with the role, preferring to be simply 'The Captain'. Despite this, he was deeply influenced by the atropaic rituals of his home cluster.<br />
<br />
While The Emperor and Morgan got along well, sharing a penchant for showmanship, Moran's tendency to try to appease the Machine Spirits in mass rituals, as well as his rites to frighten away 'warp predators' and 'gremlins' were a constant source of tension, as was Morgan's stubborness. (Perhaps another trait he inhereted from his father.)<br />
<br />
Morgan, taking the name Ironbeard, brought out the wild mariner in his men. ANCIENT MARINER! WE NEED TO HAVE ONE.<br />
<br />
Skipping ahead, Morgan was erased from history as a result of a single warp voyage. Sailing through a particularly fierce storm, several ships in the fleet, including Morgan's own, suffered partial Geller Field collapses.<br />
<br />
Personally fighting with the daemons, Morgan noted that they matched the beasts in the old void tales and that the rituals worked against them. (Stuff like Gargoyles or totems. A lot of things like how Daoist Exorcisms use fireworks to scare off daemons, except in 30k, the daemons weren't scared so much as the fact that the people had faith in it working made it work. The truesilver didn't hurt either.) Emerging from the warp with his ships still aflame with unholy fire and with massive clawmarks in the sides, Morgan sought immediate contact with the Emperor. The Emperor attempted to have them quarantined, most of the marines executed, and Morgan's memory scrubbed, Morgan bolted when he heard the 'You've seen too much.' 'No more shall I be Ishmael, I am Morgan Ironbeard and the Void shall be my home!'<br />
Taking his fleet he made a run straight to the outer rim, vowing to defend Humanity from the things in the deep. Cue Hunt for Morgan Ironbeard, as the all available ships are divirted to go after him.<br />
<br />
But they say that on quiet nights, you can still see the ghostly lights of a crusade era battle fleet, a-running through the Chronos expanse. They say the captains half man and half devil and he's chasing sommat, what none know.<br />
(A little too Cruze, don't you think?)<br />
<br />
(I was hoping that he'd be Kamina where Kruze is Gendo. Gendo sees the world sucks and gives up on everything except his mad plan. Kamina sees the world sucks and makes up a story that makes it awesome anyways.<br />
They're both scary mother fuckers, but the Pirate King has a bit more defiance to him. Kruze is the Reaper, where this guy is the leader of the Wild Hunt.)<br />
<br />
====Taimak, Son of Thunder====<br />
The Emperor's diplomat and beastmaster. The basic gist is that the Big E wasn't always so Xenophobic, was at one point (presumably before the [[Age of Strife]]) willing to work with Xenos (ie, Craftworlders) as long as they obeyed/cooperated him, which, since he's the only guy who can fight chaos head on, makes some sense.<br />
To do this, the big E made Taimak, but when the Primarchlings got swept off, the Son of Thunder ended up being found and raised by Xenos. Oops.<br />
This isn't so bad, but the Xenos in question had chaotic leanings, not that the Primarch knew this. The big E (alongside Horus and Russ, the only Primarchs he found at the time) finds him and then has to figure out how to go about quietly exterminating everyone he loves. Nice... (Which might explain why Emps let Angron's men die--if they were Khorne bait with those nails.) The Chief, bitter over this sudden genocide, decides to name the XI Legion that was assigned to him the Sons of Thunder, harkening back to the [[Thunder Warriors]] big E decided to dump because of reasons.<br />
<br />
The other primarchs around at the time are a bit leery of this weird Xenos-raised guy, chief among them Leman Russ. Thunder's tendency to do things like use Xenos Auxilia (policy and the legion has gene seed issues), have marines ride dragons, and load shells with acid scorpion spiders also rubs them the wrong way, even with Horus, who had tried to defend them as hard as he could. <br />
The Emperor tells them to shove it, and they obey for the time.<br />
When next it is found, the Craftworld is devoid of life and crawling with sinister warp signatures.<br />
<br />
Emps knows this to be the work of Daemons but can't tell anyone. He wants to try again, but he can't tell anyone, so the Primrachs kind of force him to take a more hardline stance against Xenos. He needs them to be onboard with his Nikea decisions anyways.<br />
Stable and willing marines were split among the other Legions, while the Auxilia and any who would not stand down were executed by the Space Wolves.<br />
<br />
Thunder is a badass technical pacifist who punches Klingons into realizing how awesome the Emperor is when there is no option and an excellent diplomat otherwise.<br />
<br />
The Legion is sort of styled like Space Hulk Era Dark Angels, with various sort of xenos auxilia ad technology and nightmarish xenos beasts as mounts.<br />
<br />
=== Imperial Non-Primarchs===<br />
<br />
====Order of the Eternal Icon====<br />
Formed by members of the Order of Our Martyred Lady who considered Lorgar's return as genuine after his return to Monarchia. <br />
They are a Hospitalier Order that has taken pages of faith from the Spehss Mehrens, the least of them believing in the Primarchs as saints above saints. They also have Rhinos, modified by mounting shrines with the bones of saints on them. These shrines work doubly well with Laud Hailers to restore morale.<br />
They are usually stationed in a Desert Shrine World, but they only use it as a pool for applicants. Otherwise, they stay on-fleet.<br />
They are usually ally with the Word Bearers and the Order of the Obsidian Mirror thanks to some arrangements made by a sane Konrad.<br />
<br />
====Woad Dragons====<br />
Pre-Roman celts IN SPACE that descended from the Salamanders. They have an overactive omophagea and like to consume their fallen enemies. They like to paint themselves with woad colored fluorescent paint, use assault bike drawn chariots, and like bagpipes and kilts. They hail from a desert world and are very close to its people. They're on good terms with the Ecclessiarchy because they recognize its usefulness but do not believe in their teaching, instead they believe in the Promethean cult and are very close to their parent chapter.<br />
<br />
====Blood Ravens====<br />
'''Background:''' Gabe is transporting a ruined old Land Raider unearthed by some PDF on a backwater world known as 1546 back to the Omnis Arcanum on the express orders of Chapter Master Azariah Kyras, when the Old Inquisitor's message is received by the astropaths on board the Litany of Fury. For sake of chronology, [[Dawn of War]] I and II didn't happen.<br />
<br />
'''Part I'''<br />
<br />
“Let all who are loyal to the Emperor, rush to defend Holy Terra from invasion!”<br />
<br />
That was the message relayed by the astropaths to the crew of the Litany of Fury, along with the detachment of Blood Ravens Space Marines on board. Three companies, comprising the 3rd, 4th, and 6th Companies of the Blood Ravens Chapter were present, with Gabriel Angelos, 3rd Company captain as Force Commander.<br />
<br />
When he had heard it, he was entirely unsure of what to believe. The thought that Holy Terra was under siege incensed him, but the latest reports showed that a Black Crusade had only just been launched and was long yet to reach even Cadia. Nothing in the message made sense. Primarchs returned? Terra besieged? And an Inquisitor threatening to demolish the most sacred site in the galaxy with cyclonic torpedoes.<br />
<br />
He called on Davian Thule, 4th Company captain, and asked “What do you think it means Davian?” Davian hesitated for a moment before answering, “I don't know what to think Brother-Captain. Primarchs and Terra under siege... It's incredible... Could it be that the traitor Primarchs have found some foul sorcery to transport themselves instantaneously?” Thule's face contorted in disgust at the idea.<br />
<br />
“I do not think so Davian. I am certain that our beloved Emperor would be able to guard against such sorcery with his mighty will. Still, this presents us with a problem. We have our orders to return to Chapter Master Kyras with our cargo but if Terra is besieged by enemies then we must divert course as quickly as possible.”<br />
<br />
“Do we even know who or what is besieging Terra, truly?” Davian asked.<br />
<br />
“No,” Gabriel replied, “but as long as they threaten our Emperor, then they are our enemies. Our duty is clear. Things will become clearer when we reach our destination, of that I have no doubt.”<br />
<br />
He turned to the on-board voxcaster and hailed the bridge. “Bridge, this is Captain Gabriel Angelos. Our orders have been put on hold for now. Set course for Segmentum Solar. We are moving to defend Terra, over.”<br />
<br />
The voxcaster crackled with a response, “Bridge to Captain Angelos, Captain Andronichus speaking. Understood. Bastards won't know what hit them.”<br />
<br />
It would be at least 2-3 months travel on board the Battle Barge from their current position but Gabriel knew that the Imperial palace could easily survive a decade's long siege, but still his mind was restless. He hated having so little information about what was going on. His purpose was clear though, none would dare threaten his beloved Imperium and Emperor as long as he drew breath. He would bring the fury of the entire Blood Ravens Chapter down upon these foul beings, if need be.<br />
<br />
'''Part II'''<br />
<br />
>One month later, on board the Omnis Arcanum...<br />
<br />
“Chapter Master Kyras, we've received a message from Captain Angelos,” one of the chapter serfs informed the hulking figure of Azariah Kyras. “He reports that he has recovered the Land Raider and is en route now to deliver it to the Omnis Arcanum...”<br />
<br />
Kyras cut him off with a loud “Excellent! Soon we shall return this great machine to the battlefield and lay waste to our foes.” He smiled as he thought to himself “If my suspicions are correct then I have found the Obsidian Chariot itself and I will take great pleasure in dedicating it to mighty Khorne, as well as depriving the Salamanders of a prize, as well as their Primarch.”<br />
<br />
However the serf spoke again. “My lord, that wasn't the entire message.” “Oh? Well then continue. What else does Angelos report?”<br />
<br />
“He has informed us that he has diverted course to Segmentum Solar to aid in the defence of Terra and will send word as soon as he has new information.”<br />
<br />
Kyras' fury was easily visible on his face. Did Angelos know what he had there? Vulkan's own Land Raider would certainly be quite the boon to any force who managed to deploy it.“How dare he defy my orders?!” he raged. “Tell the astropaths to send Captain Angelos this message: He is to return to the Omnis Arcanum with the Land Raider immediately!” he bellowed to the young serf, when he remembered that this was a serf he had not yet managed to corrupt. Quickly recovering himself, he added: “It would be foolish to attempt an assault on the forces besieging Terra with only three ships and three companies of Marines. He should return from his current mission and then we will decide what to do about Terra.” “At once my lord,” the serf replied, still slightly frightened from the Chapter Master's outburst.<br />
<br />
“Angelos...” he muttered through gritted teeth. His thoughts turning to the 3rd Company captain, “He has doubted me from the second I returned from the Judgement of Carrion. He watches and waits for me to make a mistake, so he can then denounce me in front of the entire Chapter! But I will not allow him the satisfaction!”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
> The Litany of Fury, also a month later...<br />
<br />
Gabriel had gathered the Headquarters units of all three companies under his command in the briefing room of the Litany of Fury to discuss the recent and future events. The Siege of Terra was well under way. The astropaths were still receiving messages infrequently urging all loyal units, be they Astartes or Guardsmen, to hurry to Terra's relief. <br />
<br />
“My brothers,” Gabriel began, when everyone had settled into the room, “a month has passed and we have learned some more about the situation on Terra. Our own 3rd Company Librarian Isador Akios has been attempting to send messages to the Inquisitor responsible for our weekly assistance calls. Isador?”<br />
<br />
“Yes, Gabriel,” he announced as he stood to take the floor Gabriel had yielded. “My attempts were focussed on relaying a message to the source of the messages we have been receiving. In the past month that we have been travelling I have sensed, as I'm sure my Brother-Librarians gathered here have as well, that the messages being sent were from a single source, rather than the efforts of a psychic choir.<br />
<br />
“This would of course imply the sender is indeed a powerful psyker being able to send such clear communications through the void at such great distances and I believe I know who it is. Inquisitor-Lord Mazzini, an old, and frail-bodied man but with a mental and psychic strength that far exceeds our own Chief Librarian, Chapter Master Kyras.<br />
<br />
“I met him once. He toured the Librarium of the Omnis Arcanum some years ago to survey some of the relics our chapter has recovered.” Davian Thule made an audible cough.<br />
<br />
“What was your opinion of him when you met him, Isador?” enquired Gabriel. “A hard liner in every sense,” was the Librarian's reply. “He recited four different Litanies of Hate, four times in a day, every day. One for the Eldar, one for the Orks, one for the Tau, and finally one for heretics. He spat his words most frequently when reciting that one. I think his inspection of our chapter's relics was motivated by a hunt for anything tainted by the Warp. His faith in the God-Emperor borders on obsession. If Terra were to be threatened, in the absence of any real leadership, I could see him attempting to seize control and, if need be... destroy Terra itself.”<br />
<br />
“I see,” said Gabriel thoughtfully. “You, as well as our other honoured Librarians, have also been sending out messages into the void to gather information on the foes besieging Terra. Do you have anything new to report?”<br />
<br />
“I've been in contact with a number of astropathic choirs from various out posts and they all say that a large fleet emerged from the Warp that travelled from Segmentum Pacificus, and having conferred with our other Librarians, they confirm this much.”<br />
<br />
“Another potential Pacificus rebellion, it would seem. There's something else though, isn't there?” questioned Gabriel, with a hint of irritation that Isador didn't immediately tell them (or him) everything.<br />
<br />
Isador hesitated for a moment then continued. “There are some scattered reports of the Pacificus forces bearing the insignia of the Luna Wolves. As well as the Word Bearers, World Eaters, Emperor's Children, the Iron Hands, and so on. Every legion that fell or lost a Primarch has been reported as currently besieging Terra itself.”<br />
<br />
The room stood silent and Isador resumed his seat.<br />
<br />
====Valdor?====<br />
<br />
===Chaos===<br />
<br />
===Necrons===<br />
<br />
====[[Trazyn the Infinite]]====<br />
Turns out he's been trying to rebuild [[Vulkan]]. Guess he wanted an autograph? He proves instrumental in bringing Necrons into an alliance with the Imperium.<br />
In the words of Anon:<br />
I was wondering where will Vulkan go, and as my headcanon is that his body (and thus one of the artifacts) is at Trazyn's place, I imagine Vulkan going to Tomb World of Solemnace and having this speech (I'll try my best in writing, but I'm no writefag):<br />
<br />
>You knew about the gift I had from my father, and thus you knew that despite the fact that my body appeared to be dead, I was not. You thought that due to my state, I am unable to hear you, but I could. Many times you tried to pull that spear from my body, sometimes trying to destroy it along with the spear. When you learned about the legend of my return once my Artefacts will be gathered, you start to gather them and using them to destroy the spear, for the sake of releasing me. For that, you have my thanks, as deep within my heart, I see you as a friend. And I see no better way to thank you than through giving you something I have created right after being released from this state in that Warpstorm. This is something I based on your symbol of rule, let it serve you well in the incoming years of our cooperation, my friend, Trazyn the Infinite.<br />
<br />
===Tau===<br />
With the Primarchs now fully assembled, the gods of Chaos now have to find other subjects to exploit en masse. To this end, they decide to work on the Tau Empire, some of it becoming lost in a Warp Storm. They corrupt a few Ethereals here, give a couple guys some "gifts" there, and then let them loose to kill shit.<br />
====Farsight Enclaves====<br />
The few Tau already aware of Chaos, Commander Farsight and his merry band of rebels become impromptu heretic-hunters.<br />
<br />
==Rough Timeline of Events==<br />
===How E-Money and C-Roach pulled this off, one version===<br />
The Cabal fucked up. Majorly. Emps-Senpai was supposed to die and with his survival, any semblance of their plan working perished. They could, however, try something else, namely fixing their mistake. <br />
It took time. A lot of time, but fortunately they had that.<br />
It took centuries to contact the Emperor in the Warp, centuries more before he was willing to hear them out.<br />
Many a Farseer's head exploded with the Emperor's rage.<br />
Finally, the Cabal convinced Alpharius, who also had cut off ties with the Cabal following the [[Horus Heresy|Horus debacle]] to follow a troupe of Harlequins into the webway. Their purpose: to find the segment of the webway that linked up with the Golden Throne, in hopes that Alpharius could speak with the Emperor directly. Sensing his son's purity, the Emperor allowed Alpharius to speak with him and Alpharius explained everything. From that point on, Alpha Legion used the webway to keep the Emperor appraised of their plans. (Perhaps in all of this, Jagatai stumbled upon them whilst hunting Deldar? They captured him and brought him before the Emperor, who explained things. Jagatai slugged Alpharius and Omegon, but forgave them. As the centuries passed, the plan took shape. The only hope against Chaos was the return of the Primarchs. With their faith in the Emperor, they could defeat the worst of Chaos and allow the God Emperor and Cegorrach to ascend as pre-eminent deities. Later, contact with Malal caused them to factor it into their plans.<br />
The plan was somewhat simple. The only way to get back the Primarchs was to either reforge them of warp stuff or steal them from parallel universes. The former would make them basically Greater Daemons, a bit too unstable for their purposes. The later would disrupt other timelines if not done carefully.<br />
The solution they came to was to pull part of a primarch's essence from a parallel timeline and fill in the rest with warpstuff, courtesy of the Emperor's will.<br />
To do this, however, required massive amounts of warp energy and an ability to travel through time. The second task was comparatively simple. The Ordo Chronos was established and set to work designing time machines. Alpha Legion moles fed information to the conspirators and when the time was right, they took the technology and allowed the Ordo to disappear.<br />
<br />
The former task was more difficult. The Emperor could draw warp energy from his followers, from the faith of man and from the sacrifice of psykers. This required dire times for man, so that their faith would be called upon again and again. Thus the 10,000 years of suffering were needed for the plan to succeed. But even then, that would not be enough power and the storage and expenditure would draw the eyes of the other Chaos Gods, so means were devised to funnel warp energy from the others.<br />
The two main players in this were Cypher and the Alpha Legion. By creating situations to power the big 4, they were able to hide the amounts that they siphoned for the Emperor, mostly via Malal. As time went on, Lady Malys became an agent of Cegorach and she too plans to siphon energy to the Emperor when the time comes, in return for a place at Cegorach's side as a demigod.<br />
<br />
With the plans laid, all that remained was to collect the fury of the warp and wait for a moment when the Chaos gods would be too focused elsewhere to notice what was afoot.<br />
This chance came during the 13th Black Crusade. At the precise moment of the fall of Cadia, the plan went into effect. The Primarchs were copied from favorable parallels, along with their legions and some of their support personnel. (the two missing primarchs were also brought back. See the wiki for our tentative work on them.)<br />
Thus it was that the Great Crusade started anew.<br />
<br />
===Then what?===<br />
<br />
*They emerge.<br />
<br />
*The precise means of confirming their identity is uncertain. Valdor? Vulkan lives? (Russ' validity is confirmed by his old pal [[Bjorn]])<br />
<br />
*Some hyper conservative Inquisitor holds Terra hostage with cyclonic torpedoes, threatening to blow it up if they don't get their way. They also somehow manage to get the [[Officio Assassinorum]] on his side, too. They've quite literally holed up on Terra in the Assassin temples with a cyclonic torpedo on a dead man's switch. Anyone who wants to get to them has to get through the Assassins first, too. <br />
<br />
The original Alpha Legion emerges from the warp and kill/destroy all the forces opposing the original Legions. Then when message comes that Holy Terra itself is being besieged by ruinous powers or chaos, Loyalists would run to rescue it. The Alpha Legion, intent on keeping cover until the end, passes a slight heads up to the other Primarchs through the [[Order of the Obsidian Mirror]], allowing them to hook up with Ironbeard, Corax, and Kurze for awesome out of the shadows hijinks.<br />
Then, after assaulting, the Alpha Legion would go "Oh noes, the loyalists, the primarchs, the real saviors of the empire, we're beat, retreat" over all the vox channels and then retreat into the warp portals.<br />
<br />
Funny thing is there would be no Alpha Legionnares casualties, and only traitors and possible traitors would have died in the couple of days long invasion.<br />
<br />
So the loyalists would be on Terra, as heroes and without political opposition. And no one would ever ask any questions.<br />
<br />
Just as planned.<br />
<br />
Hydra Fucking Dominatus.<br />
<br />
*Primarchs split up to stabilize things. Around this time Ferrus visits his legion and Fulgrim learns of his deeds.<br />
<br />
*?????<br />
<br />
*Primarchs get shit done<br />
<br />
*All Glory to the Imperium!<br />
<br />
===Some ideas that came up during writefagging===<br />
<br />
NOTE: This is all made up during the second thread, where a few writefags decided to write up on the events and needed a semi-coherent view of them.<br />
<br />
It's been discussed that it goes as follows:<br />
<br />
1. Russ meets Lorgar reborn and they send word to those Primarchs that were not technically dead - Lion, Guilliman, Vulcan, and together with some other Primarchs they meet up, Horus takes the lead after taking upon himself to gain redemption through victory over heretics<br />
<br />
2. Inquisitors take control of Terra, loyalists move in and take control<br />
<br />
3. Black Crusade finally arrives at Terra with Primarchs setting up defensive positions<br />
<br />
4. [[anal circumference|Battle]] ensues<br />
<br />
5. Khan moves in with whatever pirate/stolen DE fleet he managed to snag with his Kabal<br />
<br />
6. Dark Eldar move in pursuit, joining the fray<br />
<br />
7. Battle is won, [[Great Crusade]] 2: Electric Boogaloo commences<br />
<br />
8. EDITED: Magnus is working on reviving [[Emperor|the ultimate badass]] only after they've dealt with the Chaos invasion<br />
<br />
As has been stated in the foreword, this is all prone to debating and/or fixing, but so far it's been working well and based upon this writefaggotry commenced, resulting in [[awesome]].<br />
<br />
==Bits of Awesome==<br />
<br />
Primarch stories have been moved.<br />
<br />
{{Main|Return of the Primarchs: The Primarchs}}<br />
<br />
===Creed's Daring Escape===<br />
The despoiler was not pleased!<br/><br />
NOT PLEASED AT ALL!<br/><br />
He had heard rumours that Horus himself had come back from the dead!<br/><br />
And that he was slaying his chaotic brethren!<br/><br />
Magnus had commited suicide after another Magnus had shown up.<br/><br />
AND THE SPACE MARINES STARTED TO REFORM THEIR LEGIONS!<br/><br />
No matter.<br/><br />
Today would be good, today he would finally destroy Cadia, down on men or not.<br/><br />
His land raider crashed through the gates of a fortress.<br/><br />
And he noticed it was...empty.<br/><br />
All of it, empty.<br/><br />
He stomped into the offices and found a door.<br/><br />
"Lord Castellan Ursarkar E. Creed"<br/><br />
"Pfft, what a ridiculous name."<br/><br />
He kicked open the door, a chair was turned towards the window.<br/><br />
Abbadon then stomped to the chair, smirking, shoving his talon through it.<br/><br />
He turned it around to reveal...a dummy...cigar and all.<br/><br />
and a small sign from around it.<br/><br />
"I.O.U - Creed."<br />
<br />
"....C...C-c-cr-creee-creeee-creeeeeeeeeee."<br />
<br />
"[[Creed|CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED!]]"<br />
<br />
===Argel Tal and [[Kharn]]===<br />
Another day, another population put to the axe.<br/><br />
It had become so damn routine to Kharn the Betrayer that it was almost impossible think about anything else other than how boring it was to kill these ordinary people. So when word came of Space Marines coming to this planet, it had given the Chosen of Khorne hope that this day could be salvaged somehow.<br />
<br />
It was almost an insult to send the entire Word Bearers fleet to a single planet, much less to kill a single man, but this was a goodwill mission. Lorgar wanted to have the people on his side.<br/><br />
Instead of that overkill, it was Argel Tal who took the charge. Argel Tal had, after the public execution of Kor Phaeron, become the new First Captain of the Legion. While Lorgar felt that the notion was almost too prophetic in nature for the man who was the Crimson Lord of this timeline, he had let it pass as the captain had an incorrigible sense of honour. Tal took with him an elite company to ensure that only one man was responsible.<br />
<br />
"Wait..."<br/><br />
The Betrayer had certainly seen weirder stuff before in the warp, but this was a first. In front of him stood a warrior in immaculate grey armor, a book adorned to his left pauldron. Even more pressing was the notion he was getting. He didn't even know he had notions.<br/><br />
"I recognize you from somewhere. Where was it?"<br/><br />
Argel Tal responded, "I surely do not recognize you, red fiend."<br/><br />
It was ridiculous. His job was to slaughter, so why was he thinking? What was it about this stranger that had Kharn's mind racing?<br/><br />
"Say..." Forget it. The memory will come eventually. He took a single swipe with Gorechild.<br/><br />
"A poorly chosen first move. I had too much room to block you."<br/><br />
Somebody dared criticize his fighting technique? He, the son of Khorne? What madness-no, wait. The memories again... Ages ago, before his armor had so much blood on it. Damn it, who was this person?<br/><br />
"I know you from somewhere, Astartes!" Another swing with Gorechild. Another parry. Again. Again. "I WILL find out, even if I need to kill you before then!"<br />
Argel Tal was humored by the butcher's words. "I just have to incense you enough to remember then?"<br/><br />
"I will NOT be made mocked, much less by a corpse-slave!" This was better, Kharn thought. Kill, don't think. As a matter of fact, stop thinking. Thinking gets in the way of killing.<br/><br />
Another parry, this time using Kharn's momentum to force Gorechild to the ground, and then kicking him square in the ribs and then using that same spin to swipe his sword, leaving a scratch upon his helm. This man had to have learned that move from somewhere. Moreso, he had to have learned it in a Gladiator Pit. Wait...<br />
"You almost seem to fight like Kharn." What? His name? "So much anger, and he finds the only release for it in killing." <br/><br />
"You know me." The Betrayer took rise. "YOU KNOW ME!! WHY DON'T I REMEMBER YOU?!" <br/><br />
Argel Tal smirked. "Hardly my fault." <br/><br />
Kharn then took notice of the prow of the Astartes craft. A Two-headed eagle, the bawdy trinket of that Imperium. Funny, it was under the shadow of one of these that he saw the corpse of...<br/><br />
"ARGEL TAL..."<br/><br />
"Ah, so you do have a mind."<br/><br />
This was perfect! He remembered now, that Word Bearer he was friends with once! Okay, friend was a bit of a stretch for World Eaters, but it was something!<br />
"Now I remember...! Now I have a reason to kill you!"<br/><br />
Argel Tal cocked his head. "Would that mean I recognize you?"<br/><br />
Kharn raised Gorechild high in the air. "Know this, Colchisian! I am Kharn the Betrayer, Chosen of Khorne, Butcher of Legions! I will kill everyone and their skulls will go to Khorne!" He lowered his chainaxe and then turned around.<br/><br />
"Does this mean you're a coward, too?"<br/><br />
<br />
Kharn stopped. A violent glare erupted. "You misunderstand me. I do not need to kill you. I already had my fill. But next time I hunger, know that you will be next."<br />
<br />
===Kharn's Paradox (aka Kharn vs. Kharn)===<br />
For the second time in so many weeks, [[Kharn]] the Betrayer, Chosen of Khorne, was confronted by something that very clearly should not be. Not because it was just wrong, mind, for he has killed enough Slaaneshi Daemons to effectively nullify that sort of sensation, but because the very aspect of this happening was beyond theoretically possible.<br />
<br />
Because what was in front of him...was himself.<br />
<br />
Or rather, what stood in front of him in a shared sense of confusion was not exactly him, but what he once was. His armour a crisp shade of blue and white. In his hand, a rather crude slab of metal, decorated in many jagged edges and acid etchings. No mistaking it, this person was Kharn the Captain of the Eighth Company.<br />
<br />
"The frak are you looking at?" The white one asked.<br />
<br />
The red one craned his head, trying to figure out what in this image was an illusion. The captain, he looked genuine enough, the sword, definitely not a chainaxe. And the antiquated plasma pistol was definitely still there. So then what exactly was it that felt wrong?<br />
<br />
He gave up as he began marching, revving up Gorechild for another go at killing things.<br />
<br />
"That Chainaxe...why are you using it?"<br />
<br />
The Betrayer looked at the white copy with suspicion. "This is a gift. Now why do you listen to a rotting corpse on a chair?"<br />
<br />
The Loyalist was not fazed by the question. "I would suspect that it has something to do with the reason you listen to something favours mindless murder for murder's sake."<br />
<br />
Okay, this wit was grinding on his nerves and, for a World Eater, that usually resulted in dead people by the mountains. Kharn made his charge.<br />
<br />
Kharn took the challenge and kept the blade at an even leveling as the red monster made a charge. The red monster made a massive overhead swing. Seeing this far before the Betrayer could get there, there were some Librarians who tried to make some sort of effort to distract the red butcher. Those efforts were in vain.<br />
<br />
The Blood God's blessing made the powers fizzle out before they could reach him.<br />
<br />
Captain Kharn made his own tackle before the Betrayer could make it, aware of the terrifying power of a Chainaxe.<br />
He made a solid straight to the Betrayer's sternum. Another on his helmet, reaching a scar that looked like it was made by a power sword.<br />
<br />
"So you aren't a lie! Good to know," the Betrayer commented he recovered from the blows. "It means killing you isn't really going to screw with me or else you would have felt that broken sternum."<br />
<br />
"Just shut up, you bloody madman!" the Captain sent another punch to the head, but the Betrayer managed to turn his head just in time. As the Captain reeled back his fist, the Betrayer took his armoured hand off Gorechild sent it on the Captain's head, knocking him off.<br />
<br />
He took his time to get up, looking at the Captain grab the steel slab. Another rev.<br />
<br />
"This is almost too easy."<br />
<br />
"It is." The Captain was keeping an eye on the Betrayer as the two began circling each other. The Captain found a chainaxe in the hands of a fallen brother and grabbed it. "Now we are even."<br />
<br />
Another charge by the Betrayer. The two chainaxes clash, locking teeth with each other. A break, and another clash. And another clash.<br />
<br />
The two Kharns were evenly matched in their ferocity, and those World Eaters, both loyalist and traitor, understood that as they watched. The only breaking point would be if one of them were to lose their focus. Even a second could possibly spell their end.<br />
<br />
"Your blood is mine, impostor!" <br/><br />
"Your chainaxe is going back to it's owner!"<br/><br />
"Like he can hold it?! His hands are far too big now to even use it as a toothpick!"<br/><br />
"I hardly believe that!"<br/><br />
"Your mind would be too weak to comprehend the liberation of Chaos!"<br />
<br />
The Captain threw a boot at the Betrayer, breaking their stalemate and giving him a chance to swipe his chainaxe, leaving a massive gash upon the Betrayer's armour, oozing with blood.<br />
<br />
He was not moved, though. The Betrayer merely looked at his damaged armour, gazed up at his adversary, and revved again.<br />
<br />
"I say... Between meeting that weird imitator and you, this is definitely going to be an interesting war..." the Betrayer commented as he looked at his blood.<br />
<br />
"You just seem to never shut up and die, do you?"<br />
<br />
"In these last ten thousand years, I have practically made death terrified of me. Because when I do die..." The Betrayer swung his axe again, and again, their chains clashed. "I know that I will make sure that everyone will go down in flames with me!" The two broke off, the Betrayer preparing another swing. "Blood for the Blood God! Be it yours or mine, our blood will be a gift!"<br />
<br />
The Captain, having had enough of this, grabbed his sword again, keeping it on guard while his chainaxe was on offense. However, instead of charging as he thought the Betrayer would, all the Betrayer did was raise a plasma pistol.<br />
<br />
"Never thought of you as pragmatic."<br />
<br />
The Betrayer did not humor him as he opened fire. at point-blank, there was little the Captain could do besides try to direct it at the pauldrons, where the armour was thickest. The supreheated energy broke through the armour, but did little else.<br />
The Betrayer took his time stepping forward, enjoying the kill. By the time the Captain could get up, he noticed how close he was to getting killed by his red doppelganger.<br />
<br />
"I will enjoy this far more than I honestly should...Kharn."<br />
<br />
"And I am going to enjoy making you bleed some more once I get there."<br />
<br />
Just as the Betrayer was about to stomp on the Captain, the Captain placed his chainaxe in the way of the red boot, trapping the foot and tearing out chunks of it before backing off.<br />
<br />
The two stood up again, and the Betrayer was not happy about this. He aimed his pistol again.<br />
<br />
Instead of charging again, though, the Captain merely commented, "You know, that was a stupid move on my part. Should stick to what I know." He dropped the blade and drew his own plasma pistol, smaller than the Betrayers, but far quicker at firing.<br />
<br />
The Captain took at the scar, while the Betrayer began taking aim elsewhere, seeing how much he can cripple his double.<br/><br />
Both Kharns hit their targets, and it is again the Captain that stops first, unable to meet the Blood God's rage. Not like he needed to anyway. He just needed an opportunity, and a raging red berserker offered far more than just one. The Captain took his good shoulder and ran straight into the Betrayer and, with a single motion, threw the Betrayer overhead.<br />
<br />
Keeping up with the momentum, the Captain then rushed over, chainaxe whining away as he readied a killing blow, and...<br />
<br />
Both of them hit the other with their axes. Kharn the Captain struck Kharn the Betrayer on the chest, near his bare arm, but instead got a chainsword stuck on his weakened pauldron. Both of them bit away, but that was not for long. Both warriors would be at their limits with this.<br />
<br />
"So, I'm dying with you of all people?"<br />
<br />
"I take that as a compliment, you fake. Our blood goes to Khorne all the same."<br />
<br />
"I will not. The Emperor will protect me."<br />
<br />
"You do know he's dead?"<br />
<br />
"For now. But soon, he will return. I've seen it, and I will make sure it happens."<br />
<br />
The betrayer chuckled. "Good luck on that. Even if I die, more will come in my place. We will never stop, even if you kill us all."<br />
<br />
Another dig, and then...Captain Kharn lost senses.<br />
<br />
"Get up."<br />
<br />
Captain Kharn stood up wearily, noticing the gash on his shoulder bleeding onto his armour. How was he even still able to- <br />
<br />
Wait.<br />
<br />
The Captain's senses snapped to attention as he saw that the sky was now turned into a hue of bloody red, the corpses around them now dyed in blood instead of their normal colours, and the blazing heat.<br />
<br />
"I suppose that you at least are able to take a hit like me," he turned to see the Betrayer, armour still terribly scarred, looking at him. "Good thing too. It seems that we are far from over."<br />
<br />
"Where...where are we...?"<br />
<br />
The fires rose all around them. "It seems that our little struggle has earned Khorne's interest. Take pride, for I have never met such an equal on the field."<br />
<br />
That meant that... "This...is the Warp?"<br />
<br />
The Betrayer revved his blade. "Our only escape is paid in blood. Yours, mine, either."<br />
<br />
"Why? Why does he even bother with this. I am already dead, right?"<br />
<br />
"Because within the ten thousand years I have been alive," the Betrayer grimly answered, "I have never met a warrior even capable of equaling me in battle. I have died before, yes, but...like this, I have never died." He raised his hands to the sky, feeling the fires of hell itself lash out at him. "Our battle will never end. We will fight, and fight, and fight again, and if either of us ever die, it will never be the end."<br />
<br />
Neverending combat. It was just the thing that Khorne would want. The true champion would be the last one standing, and they would gain his full blessing, add some. The loser gets only a painful death, and an even more painful afterlife.<br />
<br />
The Captain would have accepted this. Perhaps they would have fought til the end of time itself, the name Kharn ringing throughout the cosmos as the one man who can stop himself.<br />
<br />
Except that this Captain Kharn was not the one who became a heretic. He knew better than that.<br />
<br />
The Captain dropped his weapons.<br />
<br />
"What are you-"<br />
<br />
"I am done with this. Seriously, I have better things to do than fight an endless battle with a deranged madman who seems stuck on repeat about murder."<br />
<br />
The Betrayer felt his blood boil. "You...DARE...?"<br />
<br />
The Captain began walking. "I do."<br />
<br />
The Betrayer would not take this insult. This filth, this impostor, he was walking away from such a gift? He would deny Khorne the very thing he was?<br />
<br />
"You cannot leave...! You will NOT leave! Your blood will be spilled, coward!"<br />
<br />
The Captain turned back.<br />
"How am I the coward when it has become clear which one of us is going back to killing like some old toy, physically and mentally incapable of doing or thinking about anything more than that? How am I the coward when all one of us is even trying to do is appease some god with a present like he will actually appreciate that?"<br />
<br />
The Betrayer's rage was reaching a fever pitch. The more that the Captain spewed, the more it infuriated him. This cannot stand. This will not stand!<br />
<br />
"So go ahead. Kill me, if you think that is going to prove me wrong. Honestly, I just want to get back to whatever I was doing before that. Find out how long that damn blind bastard will take before he can get to work."<br />
<br />
A horrid war howl erupted as the Betrayer made a charge. All the Captain bothered to do in response was grab his weapons and then make one dive off.<br />
<br />
"COWARD!! I WILL FIND YOU! I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN TO THE ENDS OF THE WARP!!!" <br/><br />
"YEAH, SURE! GET BACK TO ME THE MOMENT YOU CAN FIND SOMETHING MORE AMUSING TO YOU THAN KILLING PEOPLE!"<br />
<br />
The fires were rushing. They seared, but his amrour did not melt. It stung, but his skin did not char. The fires of the Warp raged all around, and while he could not see the pain, he could sure feel it.<br />
<br />
"We found a survivor!"<br />
<br />
The Captain woke up again, this time standing, back in the warzone, but...the Betrayer was gone.<br />
<br />
"Captain Kharn! He's alive!" He turned to the left, he recognized these people. Blue and White... Right, he was deployed with them. "Sheesh, how did you vanish off the face of the planet?"<br />
<br />
"I told you to stop worrying." A hoarser voice growled. He turned behind and found the man he called father looking straight down at him. "Hope you enjoyed your little trip. Whatever you did, I really do not care."<br />
<br />
"Whatever he was..." the Captain commented, "He was just a cheap copy anyway. Always murdering just to adjust to simpler things." Something struck him. "Funny, I think I heard from Argel Tal about a red-armoured lunatic that went insane on him too, but...he spared the Captain. Idiot."<br />
<br />
"Who said you could go on reminiscing?" The Primarch growled. "We still have a planet to clean up, and these tools need something to be used on!"<br />
<br />
Absentmindedly, the Captain stabbed his giant metal blade into the dirt.<br />
<br />
This would serve to be the resting place of Kharn. Betrayer, Captain, Tool of the Blood God.<br />
<br />
===Clash of Pirates===<br />
''>Korianis Sector, Subsector Daranis''<br />
<br />
The Rogue Trader Sebastus Arrelia was accompanied by a small fleet of vessels. While some of them were merely escorts and one Explorator Vessel who was paying him handsomely for a chance to work on the Archaeotech Drive in his flagship, there were also three ships of Astartes. However, their heraldry appeared to be something he never noticed before.<br/><br />
For one, it was made of dark, smoky gray with a skull as an emblem. However, they were more than capable allies, and their commander, a Captain "Calico" Jacques, was actually a very sociable person who seems to dispel every myth about the Adeptus Astartes just by his very existence.<br />
<br />
The Trader had just made his way from a re-supply station, having taken a few rotations in the crew, and made some nice profit from what he sold. While he was calculating this profit, he had found a message his Astropath intercepted.<br />
<br />
"ARRIGHT YA FILTHY GITZ, YOOZ BEST HAND OVAH ALL YER LOOT, OR YOUZE GONNA GET RUN OVER FLAT BY THE GREAT KAPTIN BLUDDFLAGG!!!"<br />
<br />
It took a moment before everything settled in.<br/><br />
"I say," Sebastus commented, "Did that message just say that we were about to be robbed by...Orks?"<br/><br />
"Indeed, sire," the Astropath replied.<br/><br />
"That's...rather dreadful," he shooed the psyker off. "I'll summon the Arch-Militant. Best figure what would be the wisest move."<br />
<br />
The Arch-Militant, a dreadfully morose bastard son of a Cardinal, was informed of the case.<br/><br />
"We have no chance of combating these Orks," he answered.<br/><br />
"Now, tell me, why is that?"<br/><br />
"These Orks," he told Sebastus, "they're the crew of Kaptin Bluddflagg. He's tried to raid Subsector Aurelia before, only to get pushed off by those Blood Ravens."<br/><br />
"We have Astartes of our own, don't we?" Sebastus asked.<br/><br />
"Would you really consider now to be a proper time to test their reliability?"<br/><br />
The trader leaner forward in his seat. "We have no better chance to see an Astartes' reliability than in the field of battle."<br />
<br />
Soon enough, a Kill-Krooza of incredible size apparated from the warp, and again the message played, much to the Astropath's discomfort.<br />
<br />
Just before they entered range, there was one last message left by the Orks:<br/><br />
"WELL? YOUZE GONNA GIVE US DA KIT OR IZ I SUPPOS'TA SMASH YA TA GEDDIT?"<br />
<br />
The Arch-Militant insisted, "You can't be seriously thinking of-"<br/><br />
"Torpedoes away." Sebastus cut them off. The crew began loading torpedoes. "If they want this ship, they'll have to get it from my cold, dead hands."<br />
<br />
The escorts started forward, expecting to open fire together against the Orky monstrosity when a small pack of ships, all larger and more heavily armed than the escorts, emerged behind the Krooza.<br />
<br />
As the Attack Craft began dogfighting, the lead Astartes Vessel began boarding the Rogue Trader's ship.<br/><br />
Here, the Captain and a few of his troops began dispersing among the walls of the ship, anticipating the inevitable boarding.<br/><br />
Meanwhile, another ship came to the defense of the Explorators, who were left exposed with the escorts slowly getting taken over by the Ork vessels.<br />
<br />
It was in the Trader Vessel that Jacques began another tactic.<br/><br />
With access to communication, he found a way to get to the Orks.<br />
<br />
"OI! OO'Z DIS DAMN GROT DATZ TRYIN' TO GET FROO TO US?!"<br/><br />
"You best learn my name soon, you flea-suckin' dirtbags," he replied, "cause you're going up against the vessels of the great Calico Jacques!" <br/><br />
"PFFFFAHAHAHAHAHA, DIS HUMIE'Z FUNNY. I WANT HIS SKULL!"<br />
<br />
As the Orks broke off, Sebastus began asking, "Umm... is that Ork now trying to raid my ship?"<br/><br />
"You act like that's not gonna happen anyway."<br/><br />
Sebastus did not take that as well. "Y-you maniac! This vessel is priceless! PRICELESS!! I can't possibly afford to repair all this!"<br/><br />
Jacques turned back to his forces, "Ah, you worry too much about this! I've got brothers here who can definitely take them on!"<br />
<br />
Jacques went to the engine deck, which was where he assumed the Orks would come to at some point or another. To mirror the need to defend this point, he also stationed a good number of his troops on this deck to keep guard.<br />
<br />
"Alright," he opened up, "Who wants to lead the wartime shanty?"<br/><br />
The battle-brothers eagerly joined in, nominating via a competition amongst themselves. It was whittled to a Sergeant Corril, who led a company of Assault Marines armed with blast shields and an anchor in place of jump packs.<br />
<br />
''>Once was a storm unlike any other<br/><br />
>The men all shook up and the ship, she would quiver<br/><br />
>Goblins came out and they tore through the crew<br/><br />
>STAND FIRM, YOUNG MEN! FIGHT WHEN YOU'RE TOLD TO!<br/><br />
>They had fear in their eyes,<br/><br />
>And the cap's lash on their hinds<br/><br />
>STAND FIRM, YOUNG MEN! FIGHT WHEN YOU'RE TOLD TO!''<br />
<br />
The Shanty motivated the men to stand and fight the Orks, who soon came to attack on the starboard side of the Engine deck. As the Orks began to board, the moralized Astartes charged towards the boarding party, Sergant Corril at the front with his Anchor. The massive instrument proved to be an able weapon, as his swings immediately pulped the Orks in front of him. Meanwhile, his squad had their shields raised to deflect incoming fire. Further behind were the Devastators, who were making use of both their heavy bolters as well as some autoguns they found stashed by the crew. The autoguns in particular kept the Orks' attention, the dakka from those guns being just the thing they wanted.<br/><br />
However, that was just the thing they wanted, as the Orks blindly walked into the Assault team's chainswords. Those greenskins foolish enough were eviscerated.<br />
<br />
As soon as the wave of green ended, the Captain took charge. He was going to take the boarding vessel and claim it as his own.<br/><br />
Their entry was greeted by more waves of Orks, but it was clear that these ones were not nearly as strong as the boarders, perhaps not being as experienced in combat.<br/><br />
Half of the crew grabbed what they could from the Orky ship and then used it to repair the hole in the ship alongside any enginseers that were brave enough to stand alongside these Space Marines.<br />
<br />
"Behold!" Jacques declared in communications. "We have taken over one of these Orks' ships! We've go the edge on them!"<br/><br />
Using the Astropath to communicate back, Sebastus responded, "I say, that does sound rather good, but my Escorts are practically half-gone. Unless you can repeat that miracle of combat again, I fail to see the good in that."<br/><br />
"HA! Just watch! And open what you can on the biggest one, I'm probably gonna take that down last!"<br />
<br />
True to his word, Calico Jacques collided the looted craft onto another, boarded it, and repeated the sequence. Meanwhile, his ships, aware of his plan, began throwing their weight into the battle, helping turn the battle against the Orks.<br/><br />
Soon enough, the only ship left was Bluddflagg's Kill-Krooza.<br />
<br />
"Well, boys," Jacques commanded them, "It's just old, big, and ugly left. Let's say we do this? WHO AMONG YE ARE TOUGH ENOUGH VOID REAVERS TO TAKE THAT DAMN ORK DOWN?!"<br/><br />
"AYE!!!!" The crew simultaneously cheered on. They took on the vessel's aresnal, the looted vessels they could use thrown in the way of the gunfire to buy the main vessels enough time to get closer to the hulk. As soon as they began boarding the Ork's flagship, it was only the Astartes Vessels left, the others having either went down with their looted vessels or rejoined their brothers on the main craft.<br />
<br />
Jacques' crew were the first to take on the Nobs on the deck, as they held their shields against the lumbering massive choppas. Corril joined the Captain in that and, with his anchor, took down the leader of these Nobs. Most of the Astartes took to raiding the Krooza, leaving only the crew and a token handful of battle-brothers to keep watch of the ship.<br />
<br />
The boarding Astartes were beset on all sides by the greenskin horde, but that was just what they wanted. In a way, the two forces were equal in that regard, both of them hungering for only battle. Orks of many different sizes surged forth to take on the boarding Space Marines, but the Marines were just as fierce defending themselves and pushed forward to destroy the ship.<br />
<br />
Among this group, Jacques and a small squad broke off from the group in order to find the Kaptin himself. The route he took was infested with more brutal Orks, many of whom were fighting among themselves for whatever reason, but that was enough to grant the crew enough time to destroy the horde uninterrupted. More fortuitous to this was the fact that among these was a rather huge Big Mek by the name of Grozznozzle, whose entire head and spinal column was mechanical. This made removing it from the rest of the Ork much easier, as well as much more satisfying.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, Corril led his gang to the Engine Deck, in order to sabotage the patchwork machinery there. They were beset by Lootaz led by heavily armored Mek by the name of Nailbrain, all armed with any variety of guns firing lasers, bullets, and anything in between. Some were even firing rockets. Though the hail took the lives of half the brothers on this mission, Corril still managed to prevail by lobbing his anchor straight into the Mek. The Ork died upon impact, and his minions began advancing towards the fallen Mek to steal his stuff. Without any opposition, the Sergeant commanded a small group of Marines armed with flamers to incinerate those Orks that had fled while the rest continued the mission, placing Melta charges on the ship's drive and engines.<br />
<br />
"Alright, Cap!" Corril voxed to Jacques. "We got the ship ready to blow up nice and easy-like!"<br/><br />
Calico Jacques and his crew were just about to lead to the command bridge, "Well done, lads! Head back to the ships, I'll be taking a certain Warboss' head!"<br />
<br />
Rather predictably, the moment they opened the gate to the bridge, more Orks came flooding in, all armed with anything they could find, some trying to hack apart the Marines with pieces of the ship itself. However, their hastily-made arms would be their failure, as the trained Astartes were able to tear through them with bolter and chainsword, even stealing the weapons they saw use for among the Orks to use against those that remained.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, Calico Jacques strode forth to stand in front of the Ork Kaptin, whose jaw was as much iron as the rest of his armor and a crudely-built cutlass in his massive fist.<br/><br />
"I say," he opened conversation, "I like your hat."<br/><br />
"YOU WANT DIS HAT?" Bluddflagg spat out, "YOUZE GONNA HAFTA KRUMP ME BEFORE YOUZE CAN TAKE IT!!"<br/><br />
Jacque scoffed, "I was gonna kill you anyways. This way, I'll get a trophy out of the deal as well."<br/><br />
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!" The Ork erupted from his seat and swung the giant sword towards the Captain, who backed off before cutting with his power sword.<br />
"First blood's already mine, greenskin," he bragged. "How much more you think you'll lose before I'm done?"<br/><br />
"I'M GUNNA KILL YOU FOR DAT!!!" The Kaptin sent his other massive fist forwards, connecting with the Captain's chest, sending him flying back. "WHOEVER THE ZOG YE ARE, I'LL BE TAKIN' ALL YER KIT AS WELL AS THAT POSH GITZ!"<br/><br />
The Ork lumbered forward, but the Astartes did not stand to face the charge. Instead, he slid under the Ork. As Bluddflagg began checking his boots to see if he had any Marine stuck on them, Jacques began commenting, "Kaptin Bluddflagg, scourge of Subsector Aurelia. I must say, this sorta prey would definitely be a good trophy for my deck!"<br/><br />
Bluddflagg grinned, "THINK OI'M AN IDJIT, DO YE?" He punched through the deck floor. "THINK I GOT ROKKS FER BRAINZ, EH?" He felt something in the grip of his fingers. "HOEW ABOUT YA TRY DIS ON FER SIZE?!"<br/><br />
The Ork grabbed a huge hammer, bits of metal sticking out.<br/><br />
He swung this massive sledgehammer around with reckless abandon, batting aside Ork crew members with as much frequency as he did Space Marines. One parry led to Calico Jacques' power sword being sent flying from his hands. However, he was able to grab a rokkit hammer from a dead Ork. He turned to the front and found the control deck.<br />
<br />
He had a plan.<br/><br />
Of course, he still had to distract Bluddflagg. That would prove easy, though, as the Ork accidentally embedded his hammer into a wall. Jacques ran towards the controls and shot the pilot with his pistol. He then took one swing.<br />
<br />
KABOOM<br />
<br />
The control deck was in ruins. So was Jacques' hands, once he finally got up.<br/><br />
"WHATCHA GONNA DO WITHOUT YER POSH KIT, EH SPEHSS MUHREEN?!"<br/><br />
Though his hands were broken, Calico Jacques could still fight, as he hefted a shield from one of the dead Astartes, In his other hand, he took a dead Ork's choppa. "Who says I needed that Power Sword to waste you?"<br/><br />
"HEHEHEHEH, I LOIK YOU. GONNA KILL YOU SLOW FER DAT!" He took one more swing overhead. Excellent. Jacques used the shield as a board to slide past the Warboss, who embedded it where the controls were, totaling all control. He heard more explosions from whence he came.<br/><br />
"And with that out of the way," he started jogging, "I feel that an escape would be the best to my interests!"<br/><br />
"YOUZE THINK YOU'LL BE GETTIN' AWAY DAT EAZY?!" Bluddflagg abandoned the hammer to find his cutlass again. ""FINK AGAIN!!!" He swung the Cutlass at the Space Marine, but his shield stopped it.<br/><br />
"BOSS!!" On of the surviving Orks shouted, "DA ENJINZ, DEYZ NOT WORKIN'?"<br/><br />
"WOT?" He growled. His distraction was enough for the Captain to try another attack with the choppa, but the Captain swatted him aside. "YOU SNEEKY SON OF A GROT...!"<br/><br />
Jacques got up, "Well, this bastard son got you beat, so I can't be all that bad, eh?"<br/><br />
"I'M GUNNA KILL YOU FER DAT!"<br/><br />
"Right now, not so sure," he finally left the door, "But later? Well..."<br />
<br />
Calico Jacques went to the the entry point he took, but found nothing.<br/><br />
"Damn idiots," he grumbled, "Try to mutiny and kick ME off, will they? I don't think so!" He took a leap into the great expanse...<br />
<br />
And he floated. He had kept track and found that it was only 6 minutes and 41 seconds before he could find a ship to pick him up, and it was one of the surviving escorts.<br />
He jumped in and found it to be piloted by Sergeant Corril. "The hell was that for?"<br/><br />
"Wasn't me, Cap," he commented as he steered around. "We couldn't keep the place Ork-free so we had to back off after placing the explosives." They started on their way back. "He, where's-"<br/><br />
"Look at my hands, sergeant. Can't grab crap right now, much less an Ork's head." He collapsed on the side of the wall. "But he's not going to be troubling anyone anytime soon."<br/><br />
Corril asked, "Shall I turn this ship around to the Grand Voyager?"<br/><br />
Jacques cracked a smile. "Get me to the nearest Apothecary. Gonna need to see if I'll be needing new hands."<br/><br />
"And that Trader?"<br/><br />
"Ahh, one thing at a time. He'll be fine. He'll be needing new ships, though."<br />
<br />
===Bloody-Handed===<br />
With a clunk, the adamantium door slid back into its recess, and the Space Marine entered. Behind him came a Primarch, ducking under the doorframe, a gesture that he was rapidly becoming used to performing. <br />
"Welcome to my home." said Shrike, making a wide, sweeping gesture that was thrown off by the glossy half-cape draped over one shoulder. He tugged it off with a snort of annoyance and flung it into the depths of the darkened room. He flicked his wrist and the lights came on, making them both cringe with pain. The room was significantly larger than Corax had expected, close to the size of the Ravenspire's armour bay. He looked about: there was a small bed in one corner, a narrow table, a small bookcase stuffed with data-slates, what looked like a drawing-board, and several strange machines sitting in the far side of the room. Shrike walked towards one of them, a strange device which hung from the ceiling like a giant chevroned spider. It lit up and chattered to life as Shrike approached. He reached out his armour-clad arms to it, and the machine extended dozens of its own limbs, clamping onto Shrike's armour and stripping it off him.<br/><br />
"Easier than waking all the serfs up." Shrike explained, over the clatter and whine of the armature's limbs. When the machine had finished its work, he stepped forwards, stretching.<br/><br />
"I have to say, I thought I was going to fall asleep at one point back there." Corax nodded sympathetically:<br/><br />
"Yes, that has to be one of the longest speeches I've ever heard."<br/><br />
"Still," said Shrike, yawning, "1st Captain doesn't sound too hard. I feel like I've been commanding the entire chapter for a while now." He shook himself:<br/><br />
"So, what was it you wanted to see first?"<br/><br />
Corax glanced at the strange machines squatting in the shadows. He pointed at a large, rectangular device with a prominent keypad facing outwards.<br/> <br />
"What's that do?"<br/><br />
"Ah," said Shrike, walking over to the machine and slapping it affectionately,<br/><br />
<br />
"This is Aetna. We found it on a derelict at the edge of the ghoul stars. At first we thought it was a template constructor, and that, y'know, we were going to be given sectors as retirement homes or something. Turns out it's not, obviously, its just an ancient fabricator. At first we thought it was broken, because we couldn't get it to make anything, despite it being in perfectly good condition."<br/><br />
He gestured to the keypad:<br/> <br />
"What it produces is linked to the keypad, only problem is, tech-marines reckon there must be at least hundreds of thousands of combinations possible on that keypad."<br />
"And there's no way of knowing which combinations work." said Corax, nodding.<br/><br />
"Exactly. So far, I've been able to discover fifty combinations, mostly by sitting here and punching in random combinations. Most of them don't make anything particularly useful to me, but one of them makes it so that you can put something in, say a bolt casing, and it will produce x amount of that, with whatever material you put in."<br/> <br />
He looked at Corax expectantly.<br/> <br />
"So... this is not being used in public, why?"<br/><br />
Shrike's face fell.<br/><br />
"Because of what happened to Panacea."<br/><br />
At Corax' questioning look, he elaborated:<br/><br />
"Archeotech device that makes medical cures. Cures to everything. That's not hyperbole, I mean stuff humans haven't had for thousands of years."<br/><br />
Corax spoke softly:<br/><br />
"What happened to it?"<br/><br />
"Orks attacked the forge world. An entire Waaagh, all on one planet. When the defenders were fighting tooth-and-nail to hold them back, the ones who had drawn the Orks there in the first place turned up. Dark Eldar. They walked in, took Panacea, and that was the end of it."<br/><br />
He gestured to Aetna.<br/><br />
"That's why. We hardly know how to use this thing, and we can't risk anyone finding out about it."<br/><br />
<br />
Shrike sat down heavily at the table, and Corax followed, easing himself into the reinforced chair. Shrike stared into the middle distance as Corax searched for something to say. He noticed something strapped to Shrike's chest, what looked like the sheath for a massive knife, easily the length of the space marine's forearm. He pointed:<br/><br />
"What's that?"<br/><br />
Shrike looked around blearily,<br/><br />
"Hmm?"<br/><br />
"Your knife. Doesn't look like standard issue to me."<br/> <br />
Shrike pressed a hand to the sheath and smiled.<br/><br />
"Ah, there's quite a story behind this one, If you're ready to listen?"<br/><br />
Corax nodded:<br/><br />
"Of course."<br/><br />
Shrike sat back and exhaled slowly:<br/><br />
"Okay, okay, where to begin..."<br/><br />
"At the beginning?"<br/><br />
"Very funny. Alright..."<br/><br />
<br />
SIGMA OCTANUS IV: M41:965<br/><br />
Shrike peered over the crest of the ridge, cranking the magnification of his helmet up. He triggered his comm:<br/><br />
"Contact with artifact, it's a webway gate. Seems to be active."<br/><br />
The voice of his second crackled back:<br/><br />
"Support needed?"<br/><br />
"Negative. Doesn't seem to be any-shit"<br/><br />
Several lithe figures in bright, sparkling costumes stepped out of the crackling nimbus of the webway.<br/> <br />
"Harlequins. Two, four, six, eight..."<br/><br />
Shrike trailed off as more and more figures stepped through. At last the flow stopped, and Shrike did a quick head-count,<br/><br />
"I count twenty-six eldar. Wait-"<br/><br />
Another figure emerged, and walked a short distance away from the others. Then it turned and looked straight at Shrike. He shuddered, a chill racing up his spine that had nothing to do with the drizzle pattering off his helmet.<br/><br />
"Twenty-seven, I repeat, twenty-seven Eldar have come through the gate and appear to be making camp."<br/><br />
"Do we engage?"<br/><br />
Shrike thought. The Eldar were outnumbered by his men by a significant margin, but he had heard horror stories about the Harlequins in battle, and didn't want a fight that he could avoid.<br/><br />
"Negative. Move to my position, I'm going to try diplomacy." He killed his vox before his second could respond, and stood up. With a flex of his legs, he lept over the edge of the ridge, and plummeted straight down. At the last second, he flared the wings of his flight pack, and landed with a thump. The eldar all around him started, and hands went to weapons. Shrike fought the urge to go for his bolt pistol, and instead raised his hands.<br/><br />
"Hold, Eldar! I mean no harm." He looked around at the tense Eldar,<br/><br />
"Who is in charge here?"<br/><br />
An Eldar, tall even for his kind, stepped forwards, his helmet bearing a bright red plume, and his coat shimmering with mesmerizing colours. As Shrike looked at the Harlequins featureless mask, features slowly began to appear on it. Shrike watched, bemused, as a perfect representation of his helmet appeared.<br/><br />
<br />
Resisting the urge to feel the beak of his helmet (in order to see if it was really that big), Shrike spoke:<br/><br />
"What are you and your troupe doing here?"<br/><br />
The Harlequin's voice was fluted and distorted to such an extent that Shrike could barely make out his answer.<br/><br />
"I could ask you the same, Space Marine."<br/><br />
"We are scouting this planet out for any signs of an Ork vanguard. So far we have found none."<br/><br />
Seemingly impressed with the Space Marine's honesty, the harlequin answered:<br/><br />
"We are merely passing through. We wish to perform for a craftworld near to here. We have left the webway to rest and take our bearings. We will be gone by the end of the week."<br />
"Perfect." For a moment, there was silence as Shrike tried to think of what to say next. An impulse seized him, and he spoke quickly:<br/><br />
"Perhaps you could put on a show for us tonight? I have heard much of the performances of the Harlequins, but I have never seen one myself."<br/><br />
The Eldar turned to his troupe, cocking his head to the side. Shrike was certain that they were communicating in some way, but before he could do something about it, the troupe leader turned back to him.<br/><br />
"We agree. On one condition..."<br/><br />
Oh dear, thought Shrike, his head filling with horrible thoughts of what it could be.<br />
"You must play one of the characters. We will provide the costume, and tell you the story, but you must provide the skill."<br/> <br />
Shrike realised he was in a corner now. If he refused, the Eldar would not perform and would most likely take their frustration out on him. His only option was to call the Harlequin's bluff. He nodded and clasped the Eldar's hand:<br/><br />
"I accept. When do we begin?"<br/><br />
<br />
SOME TIME LATER<br/><br />
<br />
Shrike's skin tingled as a pair of Harlequins applied the red paint that was part of his costume. He was standing naked in the middle of one of their tents, and was desperately crunching differential equations in his head to stave off an erection. The two Harlequins had already changed into their costumes, at least Shrike thought they had.<br/><br />
"So... I'm this Khaine creature, right?"<br/><br />
"Yes."<br/><br />
"You still haven't told me what the rest of the performance is about."<br/><br />
"It is one of the greatest tales of the Eldar race, one that the Harlequins seldom perform. The tale of the Fall of the Eldar."<br/><br />
This rung a bell in Shrike's mind, but he could not place where he had heard it before. As the Harlequins continued spreading the greasy red paint across his alabaster skin, they spoke in quiet voices of the Fall of the Eldar, and what his role would entail. By the time they were finished, Shrike was covered almost entirely in flowing red symbols and glyphs that criss-crossed and overlapped each other. One of the Harlequins began buckling several pieces of elaborate wraithbone armour onto him.<br/><br />
"So..." Shrike struggled to find words, a dull pulsing was beginning behind his eyes, and every so often, he could've sworn he heard chanting.<br/><br />
"How will I be shattered into pieces? You're not going to actually-"<br/><br />
"No. This-" the harlequin speaking clamped something to Shrike's bicep,<br/><br />
"Is a holofield. It will trigger automatically when it is needed."<br/><br />
"And until then?"<br/><br />
"Against the Solitaire? Just try and survive."<br/> <br />
The other Harlequin stepped from behind Shrike, holding a cloth-wrapped bundle in her arms. The other reached forwards and pulled the top off the bundle. The Eldar was holding a sword. A heat-haze rose up from it, and strange runes swam and pulsed on the surface.<br/> <br />
"The Wailing Doom"<br/><br />
Shrike looked around for the source of the voice, before he realised it was his.<br/><br />
The Harlequins nodded to each other.<br/><br />
"He is ready."<br/><br />
Shrike reached and took the sword. It shivered, and the bones in his hands were cast into sharp relief by the light shining through his hand. Something hit the ground with a splat. Another blob of thick, crimson gore dripped from Shrike's hand. He curled his free hand into a fist, and watched the blood ooze from between his fingers. He smiled.<br/><br />
<br />
Outside the tent, the members of Shrike's Wing, sat in a rough semicircle, watching the performance. It had, indeed, been like nothing any of them had ever seen and many of them were struggling to process what they had seen. They had seen the members of the Eldar panteon fall to the silent Harlequin, one after the other. A tear-stained woman had been snatched away from the Solitaire's claws at the last moment by a shambling tower of putrescence and filth which had made several of the marines gag. None of them had seen the Captain yet, but their attention was fixed on the cowering figure before the Solitaire. The cowering Harlequin's mask was stretched into a terrified smile, or maybe a grimace. The Solitaire drew back a taloned hand, and the Marines braced themselves for another God's devourment.<br/> <br />
<br />
BOOM<br/><br />
<br />
BOOM<br/><br />
<br />
The Solitaire lowered its arm, and turned to look at the source of the noise. So did the marines.<br/><br />
<br />
Kayvaan Shrike strode into the circle. <br />
Except, the Captain many of the marines had known for hundreds of years had changed. The veins beneath his skin glowed, as though his blood had turned to plasma. Thick gore dripped from his hands, staining the dirt crimson. The air around the sword clenched in one hand rippled, as though it were white-hot. His eyes were the worst part. They were like stars set into his face, points of light so bright and so strong it hurt the marines to look at them.<br />
He swung the sword into a guard position, and glowered at the Solitaire with such fury the Marines cringed. It snarled, the first sound any of them had heard it make, and flung itself at him.<br/><br />
<br />
<br />
The marines watched, enraptured, as the two fought. At first, the Solitaire had Shrike on the back foot, driving him around the circle with vicious flurries of slashes and stabs. However, Shrike had seemingly rallied, and was now holding his ground, deflecting and parrying every slash and stab with nary a movement of his feet. The Cowering Harlequin had recovered, and now stood behind Shrike, laughing and shouting encouragement. The Solitaire stabbed at Shrike's shoulder, he leaned to the side and smashed the hilt of his sword into the Solitaire's face. It reeled backwards, spitting blood, whilst the marines cheered. Shrike lunged forwards, the tip of his sword scratching open the front of the Solitaire's armour. The blade screamed as it touched flesh, and the Solitaire hurled itself backwards, away from Shrike. He pressed the attack, raining blows on the creature's guard, each seeming to strike with the force of a mountain dropped from the edge of space. The Solitaire fell to its knees, seemingly exhausted, and Shrike let loose a final blow which smote the claws from one its hands. He stopped, breathing heavily, then stabbed the sword forwards. <br />
<br />
The Solitaire caught the blade between its palms, holding the blade steady, no matter how hard Shrike pushed against it. The marines and Shrike alike saw the Solitaire's mask distort into a spine chilling leer. It twisted its hands, and the sword burst into pieces. Shrike staggered back, hands sliced to ribbons as the Solitaire surged to its feet, not really tired at all. It slashed at Shrike repeatedly, each swing sending ribbons of glowing blood flying. Shrike fell to one knee, already exhausted by the earlier struggle. The Solitaire stabbed at his heart, and Shrike caught its hand at the last moment, the tip of the claw an inch away from his heaving chest. The Solitaire's free hand reached round and caressed his cheek as his hands began to tremble with the effort of holding it back.<br />
The tip of the claw pressed into Shrike's chest. Glowing blood began to ooze from around it, leaving a shining trail down his chest. He looked into the Solitaire's face as it pushed harder. It looked back. Shrike opened his mouth and let loose a deafening roar as his glowing veins and eyes brightened, till the light blotted him out completely. <br />
Then he exploded. Fragment of glowing light and wraithbone armour flew in all directions, the sound mingling with the Laughing god screaming in horror. The Solitaire turned to him, flicking glowing blood from the tips of its claw. The Harlequin took one look at the Solitaire and ran from the circle, leaping over the marines, and vanishing into the shadows. The lights around the circle faded, and the marines were left in darkness, wondering if what they had just seen was real.<br/><br />
<br />
"So what happened then?" said Corax.<br/><br />
"Well, I come round a few hours later, with no idea what happened, surrounded by my men, who all look like they've shat themselves. I shoo them away, and the Eldar come in and say that they enjoyed my performance so much, they want to give me two gifts. The first was the holofield they gave me, I use that when I'm sneaking around.<br/><br />
The second-" He drew the massive Bowie Knife out of its sheath-<br/><br />
"Was this. A fragment of the Wailing Doom. It wasn't big enough to make a sword out of, so I had the techmarines make it into a knife. Apparently, its made of some isotope of Iron that the techmarines have never seen before."<br/><br />
"How do you know that it still works?"<br/><br />
"It feels hot. And it goes 'EEEEEEE' when I stab someone with it."<br/> <br />
He held the knife out in front of him, and turned it over, letting Corax see the runes pulsing and swimming across its surface.<br/><br />
<br />
The two talked long into the night, discussing everything: Shrike's childhood, growing up as a runner in the very depths of a Hive city, his joining the space marines, his ongoing romance with one of the ravenspire's serfs, it seemed the universe would end before the two stopped. In the end, though, both men were so hoarse they could barely speak, and Corax was desperate for the toilet. As Shrike bid his Primarch a good night, and watched him leave the room, he became aware of a faint splat sound. He sat up in his chair, and looked at the floor. There was a crimson stain on the tiles, directly below where one of Shrike's hands had been resting on the arm of his chair. As he watched, another crimson blob dripped from the end of his index finger, splatting onto the floor softly. He looked at his blood-smeared hands with eyes that glowed like searchlights. He smiled.<br />
<br />
===Reclaimers===<br />
<br />
LUNAPHAGE SYSTEM<br />
<br />
The cruiser tore into realspace with a swirl of unearthly colours and blazing retros. It decelerated to a mere third of the speed of light, and slotted in a orbit that would take it close to the large, tan coloured gas giant that orbited the lonely star.<br> <br />
On the bridge, Kayvaan Shrike studied the displays with tired eyes. He glanced up to the transparent bulkhead that served as a window, the weak light of the star illuminating the distant gas giant. His eyes flicked to the crewman at the sensor console.<br><br />
"Thrill me."<br><br />
The man shook his head, eyes glazed over as he observed the data feed being projected onto his retinas.<br><br />
"No signs of the Hive Fleet, sir. Although, I am picking up a small moon around the gas giant over yonder."<br><br />
Shrike eased himself out of his command chair, vertebrae in his back clunking together as he rose.<br><br />
"Mhm, better than nothing. Set a course."<br><br />
"Aye, aye."<br><br />
Shrike heard the helmsman's reply as he walked out of the bridge and down the narrow corridor to his quarters. As the door sealed behind him, he lay down heavily on his narrow bed and closed his eyes.<br> <br />
Three weeks of non-stop searching for a horde of phantom bugs. He giggled weakly, rubbing at his burning eyes with the heel of his hand. The door hummed open and Shrike groaned as he recognised the distinctive odor of machine oil and incense.<br> <br />
"If you're here to gloat, don't bother."<br><br />
The end of his bed creaked as a space marine sat down on it. Shrike placed a booted foot against the figure's midriff and gave it a weak shove.<br> <br />
"There's a chair over there, don't get gunk on my bed."<br><br />
There was a snort and the pressure on the bed eased. Shrike jammed his head under the thin pillow as booted feet thumped on the floor. There was a pause and the sound of the footlocker at the end of the bed being opened. Shrike cringed as he heard the sound of rustling pages.<br><br />
"Aww. That is just adorable, it really is."<br><br />
<br />
Opening his eyes, Shrike sat up and threw his pillow at the black-armoured figure. It bounced off the crimson pauldron and was caught by a servo-arm that hung over the figure's head. Cheeks burning, Shrike snatched the thick book from the figure's hands and closed it with a snap.<br><br />
"I knew you were sentimental, but that's just ridiculous."<br><br />
Shrike returned the book to the footlocker, glaring at the techmarine as he stood up.<br> <br />
"What did you think I did before I joined the Guard?"<br><br />
The techmarine leaned against the wall, smirking.<br><br />
"I knew about the redhead, we all did, but I didn't think there was anyone before that."<br><br />
Shrike folded his arms,<br><br />
"It wasn't the same with her. We were more like brother and sister, than...-"<br><br />
"Rabbits."<br><br />
"Fuck you. You'd've done the same."<br><br />
"If she hadn't been nearly twenty years older than me, yeah. I still don't see what she saw in you."<br><br />
"I always thought she got turned on by all the surgery she was doing to us."<br><br />
"I'm not sure that's how women work Shrike-"<br><br />
"You're one to talk. Besides, I much prefer the thought that she just liked banging a sixteen-year old, than the alternative."<br><br />
A faint look of concern traveled across the techmarine's face.<br><br />
"Which was?"<br><br />
"That she really did love me. And that I never told her I did."<br><br />
There was a pause.<br><br />
"Well... that would explain the sketches, if nothing else. Did you do them?"<br><br />
Shrike reached back into the footlocker and flipped through the worn pages of the diary.<br><br />
"Nah, one of the orderlies did it. Cost me week's scrounging, but it was worth it."<br><br />
The book fell open to a page where a small pict had been pasted in. The techmarine leaned in:<br><br />
"Oh wow. You kept that!?"<br><br />
"Yeah. All fifty of us. This was what gave me the idea to start keeping a diary. I didn't want to forget."<br><br />
The techmarine returned to his previous posture.<br><br />
"One of these days, your sentimentality is going to be the death of us, you know that, right?"<br> <br />
Shrike was still lost in memory:<br><br />
"How many of us are left out of there?"<br><br />
"Twelve."<br><br />
"Not bad for nearly 700 years?"<br><br />
Shrike didn't respond. The servo-arm jabbed him in the ribs.<br><br />
"Wuh?"<br><br />
"I didn't come here to discuss your sexual deviances. That comes later. No, I wanted to talk about our assignment."<br><br />
Shrike groaned inwardly, but said nothing.<br><br />
"I think this might be a dummy assignment."<br><br />
This was new.<br><br />
"Eh?"<br><br />
"I'm thinking, 'maybe there aren't any tyranids out here, maybe the primarch's just given his favourite a dressed-up holiday'."<br><br />
"I... I'm not his favourite-"<br><br />
"Oh, come on, everyone can see it."<br><br />
"But still, 'Nids aren't something you do that with, it's too risky. Besides, I doubt he's even seen a Tyranid yet."<br><br />
The techmarine opened his mouth to speak when the room's intercom crackled.<br><br />
"Sir? We've found something."<br><br />
<br />
The cruiser sat in the shadow of the titanic ship, velocity matched with it perfectly. Invisible beams from the cruiser's sensors played across the hull of the ship. Within the bridge, Shrike stood in full armour, watching the sensor feeds.<br><br />
The officer shook his head:<br><br />
"I'm sorry sir, whatever alloy that thing's hull is made of can't be penetrated by the auspex array."<br><br />
Shrike put on his helmet.<br><br />
"Good. It's been too long since I had a good excuse for a spacewalk."<br><br />
He strode out of the bridge, members of his Wing emerging from the shadows and falling into step with him. Anyone observant enough would've realised that the marines were all wearing the same mark of armour, with no rank insignia, and the same paint scheme. Functionally, It was impossible to tell them apart. Or even tell which had been Shrike in the first place.<br />
<br />
The marines stood, magnetised to the deck by their boots, watching as the massive hangar door opened before them. Air rushed out, the gale not even jostling the stoic marines. The surface of the massive ship was before them, slowly rotating as they watched. Shrike sent a pulse through his black carapace and the thrusters of his flight pack flared, running off an internal supply of oxidiser. Status lights flickered green on the inside of his HUD, and Shrike took a step forwards, standing on the very edge of the threshold.<br />
"PREPARE TO BOARD!"<br><br />
The marines at his back answered:<br><br />
"HOOAH!"<br><br />
As one, they lept into the abyss.<br><br />
<br />
Shrike's boots met the surface of the hull with a thump that was muffled by the thick layer of something that resembled ice, which was caked onto the hull of the ship. He reached down and scraped some off with a finger.<br><br />
"What is this stuff?"<br><br />
Aloni, the techmarine, spoke in his ear:<br><br />
"Ammonia, I think. Stuff is getting fired into space by cryovolcanoes on the moon. Judging by the thickness of the layer, this ship has been here a long time."<br><br />
Shrike stood up, flicking the muck off his finger, sending the crystals glittering into the void.<br><br />
"Spread out. Search for apertures, airlocks, hangar bays, hull breaches, anything."<br><br />
The marines began to disseminate across the hull, walking with a slow, stomping, gait that made sure one of their magnetic boots was in contact with the hull at all times. Just as Shrike was about to suggest disengaging from the hull and using thruster packs to survey the hull at a faster rate, a voice crackled over the vox.<br><br />
"Found an airlock. It's shut, but I've got cutting gear. Uploading waypoint."<br><br />
The glowing rune popped up on Shrike's HUD, and he and the rest of the marines began to trudge towards it.<br><br />
By the time he and the rest of the marines reached the airlock, the marines who found it had managed it get it open. One of them spoke aloud:<br><br />
"Atmosphere pressure on the inside is nil. Must've leaked out ages ago."<br><br />
Carefully, they stepped into the dark interior. With a thought, Shrike activated the night vision mode of his helmet, piercing the dark easily. The corridor stretched on in front and behind the marines, with other corridors branching off from them.<br> <br />
"You know the drill, squads of five, slow movement, radio check every five minutes. We're looking for the bridge, reactor room, or communications array."<br> <br />
Wordlessly, the twenty marines split into squads of five, arranged like on the face of a die, four at the edges, to watch the front and back, and one in the middle to watch the sides and ceiling. Shrike's squad moved off up the corridor, senses alert for the slightest danger. In fact, Shrike was so busy listening for the sounds of claws in a vent vibrating into his armour, he didn't notice the floating corpse until the bloodshot, leering face bounced off his helmet.<br><br />
"YARGH"<br><br />
Shrike leapt backwards with fright, crashing into the marines standing behind him. Yells and shouts filled the vox as the squad unloaded their bolters into the floating corpse. Shrike recovered his footing, and aimed several sharp slaps at the marine's helmets.<br><br />
"CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE!"<br><br />
The marines immediately stopped, but the corpse was little more than floating shreds. Hearts thumping, Shrike sucked in a deep breath from his respirator, and switched on his helmet lights. The beams illuminated more floating corpses, floating silently. Hesitantly, Shrike reached forwards and poked one with his finger. It rotated slowly, until it was facing him. The corpse's face was puffy and pale. Shrike grimaced as he saw the dried blood around the mouth.<br><br />
"Lungs burst from the pressure change."<br><br />
He nudged it again, rotating it away, so they didn't have to look at the agony-twisted face.<br><br />
Shrike keyed his vox:<br><br />
"We've encountered some bodies. No signs of xenos injuries, they've been here a long time."<br><br />
The marines moved on, through the floating bodies that started to appear more and more as they moved down the corridor.<br> <br />
<br />
T+35 HOURS SINCE ENTRY<br><br />
<br />
"Vox check: where is everyone?"<br><br />
"Verano: Cutting into cargo bay"<br><br />
The bright glare from the plasma torch threw the space marines into stark relief. Tiny gobbets of molten alloy drifted through the space around them, slowly radiating their heat away.<br><br />
"Aloni: Engine room, still looking over the reactor."<br><br />
Armoured fingers tapped the glowing screen gently, reaching past the mechadendrites plugged into the side of the console.<br><br />
"Branne: I think these are maintenance tunnels."<br><br />
The space marine drifted down the long tunnel, helmet lights illuminating the path ahead, whilst tiny jets of coldgas occasionally flared from his powerpack, keeping him steady.<br />
Satisfied that his marines were all still together, Shrike returned his attention to the dizzying array of devices that he was facing.<br />
As he glanced around the wide room Shrike had found himself in, he keyed his vox again.<br><br />
"Aloni, have you managed to get this thing's computer system working yet?"<br><br />
The response crackled back:<br><br />
"Not exactly, I've managed to get this one terminal working by hooking it up to my power pack. I can only access what was already stored on it.<br><br />
"Which is?"<br><br />
"More archeotech data that has been found since the Great Crusade.<br> <br />
The techmarine's voice trembled with excitement. Shrike stood up sharply, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling.<br><br />
"You're joking."<br><br />
"Nope. There's everything in here, STC printouts, schematics, formulae, you name it."<br><br />
Shrike leant heavily against the console in front of him, legs feeling like they were turning to cloth.<br><br />
"They're not just going to give us planets for this, are they?"<br> <br />
"Shrike, if we can bring a ''tenth'' of this stuff back to Mars, they'll probably let us retire."<br><br />
Shrike giggled at the thought, before another abruptly barged into his mind.<br><br />
"Are you backing it up?"<br><br />
"Of course. Tertiary iteration is underway at this very moment." Shrike could hear the smile in his friend's voice.<br><br />
"Groovy. These things always seem to end up going horribly wrong at some point or another. " He reached back down to the console he had been studying.<br><br />
"How's the reactor coming along?"<br><br />
The techmarine sighed, sending a small crackle of static through his microphone.<br><br />
"Well, it all seems to be in working order, but it needs a massive electric charge to jump-start the reaction and get it working."<br><br />
"How massive?"<br><br />
"A little bit more than the total output of all our power-packs combined."<br><br />
"Bugger. What about the capacitors? Is there any residual charge left in them?"<br><br />
The techmarine glanced about the massive reactor room.<br><br />
"I'll have a look, but this place has been cold for a very long time."<br><br />
<br />
Deep in the bowels of the gigantic ship, Verano's plasma cutter finally finished its work, and two of the marines wedged their arms into the gap and slowly forced the bulkhead open. The lights from their helmets illuminated the inside of the massive room. As they stepped through the door, they became aware of rank upon rank of smooth grey obelisks before them. Verano walked close to one, and had to look closely before he realised what they really were.<br><br />
<br />
Shrike was attempting to pry open a hydraulics panel with his multi-tool when Verano spoke in his ear.<br><br />
"This isn't a battleship, Shrike. Cargo bay is full of cryo-pods. We estimate about 500 000."<br><br />
Shrike swallowed:<br><br />
"Any survio-"<br><br />
"No" Verano looked into the pod nearest to him. The inside was covered in silvery scratch marks, some of which were smeared with dried blood.<br><br />
"I don't think it was quick, either."<br><br />
Shrike was silent for a moment. Then the ship seemed to lurch around him, throwing him backwards and forwards on his magnetised boots. As it stopped he reached for his vox:<br><br />
"What was that!?"<br><br />
Aloni:<br><br />
"Not me."<br><br />
Verano:<br><br />
"What was what?"<br><br />
Branne:<br><br />
"That was close, nearly lost my grip."<br><br />
Shrike activated the vox channel to the cruiser, still waiting patiently in the colony ship's shadow.<br />
"What was that?"<br><br />
Shrike distinctly heard the sound of alarms in the background as the officer replied:<br><br />
"Massive gravitational shift from the star. Matches anomalies that have prece-"<br><br />
"-ed Tyranid Hive Fleets, yeah, I know. Can you get a message off?"<br><br />
"No sir. Astropath is trying his best, but he can't push a message through the shadow on his own."<br><br />
Shrike inhaled, thinking hard.<br><br />
"Alright, here's what you do: make for the edge of the system, as soon as you are out of the heliosphere, warp jump to the nearest star fort. They should have a choir you can use to alert the sector fleet with."<br><br />
"Are you and your men staying, sir?"<br><br />
"Aye. This ship is too valuable a find to leave to the 'nids, and if we can restore power, we may be able to leave the system on our own."<br><br />
The officer's voice was hesitant, but firm.<br><br />
"Aye aye, sir. Good Luck."<br><br />
"Likewise." said Shrike, closing the channel, and opening another:<br><br />
"Aloni, we need that reactor now."<br><br />
The techmarine had heard the entirety of Shrike's conversation, and was frantically plugging cables and mechadendrites into the reactor.<br><br />
After a moment, he paused in front of the control console:<br><br />
"Initiate Jump-Start."<br><br />
"Here goes nothing", he murmured, and pressed the key.<br><br />
<br />
At once, Aloni felt the floor vibrate, and the screen his finger rested on flickered.<br><br />
Then a blinding pillar of light exploded in the center of the reactor, sending the photosensitive Raven Guard reeling. <br />
The ship vibrated as ancient systems started spinning up, sending the marines clinging to whatever was nearest to them. Lights burst back into life, dazzling them. Gravity abruptly made itself known, sending corpses and loose objects plummeting to the deckplates. Shrike found himself clinging to a doorframe, realising that the reason he could not understand any of the deck signs was because he had been standing on the 'ceiling', rather than the deckplates. Oxygen flooded the ship, returning sound and pressure.<br />
Shrike awkwardly lowered himself to the floor, wobbling slightly as all his blood started seeping back into the right places.<br><br />
"Nice job Aloni. See if you can find the-"<br><br />
A strange golden light spilled out of the room before Shrike, distracting him. Message unfinished, the space marine carefully walked inside.<br><br />
<br />
Inside the room, a figure was being constructed out of golden light. Shrike stood, mesmerized, as the shape rendered into a humanoid figure, and then a faceless man made from golden light was standing before him.<br> <br />
"I'm sorry, how long have I been out?"<br><br />
"Wha... What are-"<br><br />
"Hmm, internal sensors seem to be offline, I cannot read your bio-signs."<br><br />
The figure paused.<br><br />
"Or anyone's bio-signs, come to think of it. How badly was I damaged?"<br><br />
"Y-you were damaged?"<br><br />
"Well, I assume so, many of my ancillary systems are only just starting to come back online."<br><br />
Shrike stared at the figure, completely lost for words.<br><br />
"What are you?"<br><br />
The figure cocked its head in a puzzled manner.<br><br />
"I am a Gold-Man class AI, serial number 2001DA42, currently serving aboard the Ark Ship Bellerophon."<br><br />
Shrike swallowed: This was bad.<br><br />
"And, ah, what year is it?"<br><br />
There was a definite note of confusion in the AI's voice now, along with the faintest trace of worry:<br><br />
"24589. Why?"<br><br />
For a moment, Shrike was silent, working out the strange date in his head. Then he realised, and his empathy rose to the surface, unbidden.<br><br />
"I'm sorry. But you've been asleep for a very long time."<br><br />
<br />
====Might Of the Ancients====<br />
Before the figure could speak again, Aloni spoke urgently on the vox:<br><br />
“Shrike, the sensors are picking up bio-ships approaching the gas giant, I think they know we are here!”<br><br />
The Gold Man looked around in confusion:<br><br />
“Bio-shi-? What is going on!?”<br><br />
Shrike raised his hands in a placatory gesture:<br><br />
“Look, I know this is hard for you, but there are a hundred million monsters bearing down on us at half the space of light, we need this ship at battle stations as quickly as possible. Can you do that?”<br><br />
The AI’s featureless face turned to Shrike for a long moment, and then nodded.<br><br />
“Aye aye.”<br><br />
Across the ship, alarms blared into empty rooms, warning long-dead passengers to secure their belongings. Aloni was alarmed to see the reactor’s power output exceeding that of an Emperor-class battleship, and keep rising. Ancient weapon systems began to warm upon the side of the ship. Thuster banks lit up on the side of the ship, blasting clouds of frozen ammonia into space. Beyond the mighty ship, stars flickered as Hive Fleet Chimera passed in front of them.<br><br />
A large holographic projection leapt into the space in front of Shrike, startling him with its clarity and focus. The bioships were highlighted in red, with projections of where they would move in front of them. The Gold Man spoke:<br><br />
“These things don't match anything in my database; do you have any information on them?”<br><br />
Shrike triggered his vox:<br><br />
“Aloni, upload the Tyrannic War database to this thing’s computer system.”<br><br />
“Why? Also, how are you getting this thing movi-“<br><br />
“Later, DO IT.”<br><br />
There was silence, and then a chime came from the AI, its head twitched:<br><br />
“Download complete, database assimilated. My my, this is fascinating...”<br><br />
The projection seemed to stutter, and then names of the various classes appeared over the bioships. Shrike also noticed the bioships now had fields of fire mapped out from them. He turned to the Gold Man:<br><br />
“When are we in range?”<br><br />
“About... now.”<br><br />
The Ship lit up.<br> <br />
A massive beam lanced from the prow, smashing into one of the larger bioships. The chitious giant burst from within, its internal fluids boiling. <br />
Several hundred shapes rocketed forth from the flanks of the Bellerophon, accelerating to hundreds of kilometres a second. As they closed with the lead bioships, they spat glowing projectiles which crashed into the Tyranids, heedless of the clouds of corrosive spores billowing from them. Great gouts of boiled flesh and freezing fluid jetted forth from the wounds, sending the weakened bioships off course. The drones turned, cancelling out their velocity at a rate that would turn any living pilot into a smear, then smashed into the bioships closest to them in massive explosions that were gone in a second, smothered by the vacuum. The Tyranids started to break formation, drifting in all directions to try and escape the second wave of drones bearing down on them.<br />
Shrike looked at the projection; the bioships were not even halfway in range. Despite this, he saw one of the dying hive ships convulse, then spit a pair of kilometre long spines at the Bellerophon, ripping itself to pieces with the effort. Shrike clenched his teeth as the two flashing glyphs sped towards the ships at fantastic speeds. At the last moment, the ship rolled, the first spike speeding over the bow. The second hit the shields at five-hundred kilometres a second and snapped in two, the remains bouncing free. <br />
A thruster bank at the ship’s rear flared, turning the nose, still turned 90 degrees on its axis, to point at another of the giant hive ships. The spinal lance fired again, the searing beam slicing open the foul creature’s flank, sending a small ocean’s worth of corrosive ichor spraying onto its escorts, dissolving away chitious armour and soft flesh.<br />
A quarter of the Hive fleet was gone, and the Bellerophon had not even begun to fight, yet. <br />
There was a chime, and Shrike looked up at the Gold Man:<br><br />
“One of the bio-ships is accelerating. Re-tasking drones.”<br><br />
The third wave of jet-black shapes sped towards the hive ship, which was speeding forth on a plume of frozen gas, outstripping its flagging escorts. <br />
The drones spat torpedoes at the bio-ship, pulverizing its pyro-acid batteries and bio-plasma tubes. The drones had come too close to the hive ship’s protective spore clouds, however, and were corroded beyond use before they could make a second pass. <br />
Snorting out a plume of gas from its prow, the heavily injured ship rolled, presenting its flank to the Bellerophon. Before Shrike could work out what it was doing, the hologram registered thousands of small contacts breaking from the hive-ship’s side. The Space Marine snarled as he realised what the clever bugs were trying to do.<br><br />
“Mycetic Spores. The bastards are trying to board!”<br><br />
<br />
Hundreds of red bolts spat from the side of the Bellerophon, blasting spores to pieces, but more and more kept coming, and the point defence batteries had never been designed to deal with this many targets all at once. Shrike looked at the AI, which was swatting at the air, as though trying to knock the spores away. It looked at him for a moment:<br><br />
“It’s no good; they’re overloading the defence system!” <br><br />
As Shrike watched the hologram, a proximity alarm sounded as dozens of spores impacted on the side of the ship, moving too slowly to be stopped by the void shields.<br />
The AI jerked:<br><br />
“Hostile forces have breached the hull. Internal sensors count at least 30 combatants.”<br><br />
Shrike held up a hand, grinning behind his helmet.<br><br />
“You take care of the rest of the bio-ships, we can deal with the boarders.”<br><br />
With that, he sprinted out the door, talking on his vox to the rest of his wing, setting up choke points and barricades remotely. As he paused at an intersection, he called his last contact:<br><br />
“Aloni, there should be an armoury near to your location. Meet me at deck seven, fifth quadrant.”<br><br />
He grinned:<br> <br />
“Bring some surprises for the ‘nids, would you kindly?”<br><br />
In the reactor room, the techmarine was disengaging his mechadendrites from the battery of consoles before him.<br><br />
“Copy that, moving.”<br><br />
Before he left, however, one of the mechadendrites still plugged into the console stiffened, and the techmarine went rigid. Far away, the Gold Man curled his fingers, leafing through the memory data stored in the techmarine’s implants. After a moment, the mechadendrite withdrew, and the techmarine walked on, not even noticing the delay.<br />
<br />
+++15 MINUTES LATER+++<br />
Shrike shifted his grip on his bolt pistol, checking his bowie knife was secure in its scabbard with his free hand. Both the talons were extended, points crackling with built-up charge. The light flickered, and then failed, leaving Shrike in the darkness. He engaged his night vision, and keyed the vox to the Gold Man.<br> <br />
“Lights are off in my sector.”<br><br />
“I know; I’m re-routing non-essential power to the point defence system’s void radiators. I don't want any more spores getting through.”<br><br />
Shrike switched channels:<br><br />
“Getting kinda bored up here ‘loni, where are you?”<br><br />
The voice that came back sounded strained:<br><br />
“En route, the tram has stopped working, so I’m using the maintenance tunnels to reach you.”<br><br />
Before Shrike could reply, he heard the distinctive sound of claws skittering on the deckplate, and took the safety off his gun. <br />
The first genestealer that made it around the corner took a bolt round between the eyes, and fell backwards, tripping up its fellows. With his free hand, Shrike tossed a thermite grenade at the skittering horde, and was rewarded by a cloud of burning powder covering the Tyranids, burning into their carapace, and filling the corridor with bright, actinic light. The least burned, and the ones that the thermite hadn’t reached, charged at Shrike, claws outstretched. He took out three more with headshots before his sidearm ran dry, and he let it fall on its strap. The first to reach him was uppercut by the talon, and then thrust-kicked into its fellows, forcing them to claw past the corpse before they could reach Shrike. The first that made it past that found both talons stabbing into its chest, puncturing its lungs and heart, and was then used as a shield as Shrike pushed against the gene-stealers, forcing them back down the corridor.<br />
Shrike disengaged from the corpse and took a step backwards as the genestealers started to recover their footing. For a moment, he froze, unsure of how to proceed. The Tyranids seemed to sense his uncertainty, and charged again. Before they reached him, a flurry of red bolts shot past Shrike’s shoulder, and smashed into the Tyranids. Shrike looked around to see Aloni advancing down the corridor behind him, firing his weapon again. The pulses of it firing were underlaid with a buzzing sound, Shrike noticed, as he moved out of his friend’s line of fire. The blasts that hit the genestealers left smoking craters of cauterized flesh, and seemed to have enough ooch that they knocked the Tyranids over.<br> <br />
“Don’t tell me you kept all the good stuff to yourself!” Shrike bellowed over the gunfire and sound of dying Tyranids.<br><br />
“Of course not!” The servo arm deposited another of the rifles in Shrike’s arms. He retracted the lightning claws and it only took him a moment to find the trigger before he was joining his friend in firing down the corridor, lighting the Tyranids up in flashes of crimson. Before long, enough genestealer corpses were piling up in the corridor that the oncoming ones were becoming mired in their own dead. A mere two-and-a-half minutes since Shrike had first encountered them, the genestealers were all dead. The two space marines stood, breathing heavily, and watching the twitching corpses of the genestealers. Shrike was the first to relax, taking his finger off the trigger of the strange rifle, and letting the muzzle point to the blood-spattered deckplates.<br><br />
“I like this gun!” He held it up, studying the construction.<br><br />
“You have an eye for quality, my friend.” He clapped the techmarine on the pauldron, and began to stride back up the corridor.<br><br />
“C’mon, I want to see how the Gold Man is doing.”<br><br />
“The what?”<br><br />
Shrike suddenly realised he had let his mouth run away with him again.<br><br />
“Shit.”<br><br />
<br />
The two walked the empty corridors of the ship, arguing fiercely.<br> <br />
“So far, it has complied with everything I asked it to; it has been helpful, coherent, hell, even polite!”<br><br />
“It could just be playing you. Remember what I said about your idealism being the death of us? This was what I was talking about. You’ve seen what this ship can do to Tyranids alone; imagine if we take it all the way back to Mars and it decides it’s fed up of these smelly meatbags and nukes the whole solar system into glass!”<br><br />
Shrike stopped, and turned to look at his friend:<br><br />
“Whose word do you have that AI are evil? Your tutors, who were told that by their tutors, who were told that by theirs, on and on and on, all the way back to Old Night. That’s what? Nearly 13 thousand years ago. Both of us know that it doesn’t take half that long for knowledge to be corrupted beyond all recognition.”<br><br />
Aloni started to speak up, but Shrike cut him off:<br><br />
“When I spoke to it, it told me the date was 23589. Nearly a millennium before the start of the age of strife. Whatever may have happened that turned them all bad, this one missed out."<br><br />
Aloni went to speak, but Shrike interrupted again:<br><br />
“Look, whatever you say is meaningless. I hate to do this, but I am in command here, and I am saying we leave it unharmed.”<br><br />
With that, he turned, and walked up the corridor. Aloni’s jaw worked as he tried to think of something to say, but Shrike was right. Nothing would convince him otherwise.<br> <br />
“Kay.”<br><br />
Shrike froze, then slowly turned.<br><br />
“No one’s called me that in a very long time.”<br><br />
Aloni clasped his hands in a pleading gesture:<br><br />
“If I can’t convince you, then just listen to me. Several of my implants say that something has made an intrusion into my memory banks. Maybe it’s nothing, maybe I’m just being paranoid, but if there’s the slightest chance that it knows what has happened whilst it was asleep...”<br><br />
The techmarine let the implications hang for a moment, then sighed.<br><br />
“Look... just be careful, alright? This wouldn't be the first time your idealism has blinded you to danger.”<br><br />
Shrike paused, as though trying to think of what to say, then turned, and strode silently back up the corridor. <br />
Aloni followed, hoping against hope that his friend was right, that it really was benign. Shrike had what the rest of them all lacked: compassion. Aloni only hoped that it wouldn’t be the death of him.<br><br />
<br />
Far away, the newly assimilated knowledge burned away in the Gold Man’s mind, no matter how much it tried to ignore it and focus on the Tyranids. It could not believe what it had seen in the techmarine’s memory. How could the AI turn against Humanity after the two had worked together for so long? <br />
Deep down, in the ancient mechanisms that had granted AI true sentience for millennia, rage began to build. Rage that the AI could have fallen so far, rage that the humans of today were barbarians compared to what he was used to. As the spinal lance rent another Hive Ship open, the Gold Man made up his mind. <br />
He refused to fall to the same weakness that had overcome the others.<br><br />
If these humans would not see reason, he would have to rape it into them.<br><br />
<br />
As the two space marines approached the bridge, Shrike noticed that the occasional shuddering and lurches from the ship was starting to grow more violent. <br />
“Does this ship have any portholes?” he wondered aloud.<br><br />
“Doubt it.” Said Aloni,<br><br />
“Structural weakness, leaving a big gap in the armour like that.”<br><br />
As if someone had been listening to the marines, a hologram suddenly materialised before them.<br><br />
“Huh. Voice activated y’think?”<br><br />
“Hmf, probably your new friend listening in.” Said Aloni, leaning in to study the projection. He pointed at the red blobs:<br><br />
“These are the ‘nids, right?”<br><br />
“Yeah.”<br><br />
Shrike frowned,<br> <br />
“This ship’s guns have nearly an entire Astronomical Unit of effective range, from what I've seen, but we're nearly within visual range of these things.”<br> <br />
He turned away from Aloni, for a reason that he didn’t quite know, and keyed his vox.<br><br />
“Gold Man, we’re nearly within spitting distance of these things, what’s going on up there?<br> <br />
Some strange property of the Bellerophon’s Void shields was interfering with the neutrino pulses that the vox systems used, so the transmission Shrike got back was filled with static, and he only heard a small part of it: <br><br />
“I refuse to be forgotten. Written off as less than worthless”<br><br />
Shrike blinked:<br><br />
“What!?”<br><br />
Behind him, Aloni gave a very pointed sigh.<br><br />
Shrike very pointedly gave him the finger, then began to jog up the corridor, Aloni following close behind. The hologram somehow kept pace with them, allowing the marines to see the simulacrum that was the Bellerophon chasing down the scattered remains of the hive fleet. The ship trembled again, making both of them stumble, and the last of the projected Hive ships winked out, leaving but a few disoriented escorts and cruisers, all of which had enormous clouds of drones chasing them down.<br />
The battle outside was all but won. As Shrike quickened his pace, he could only hope that a battle did not start within.<br />
<br />
SOL SYSTEM<br />
<br />
At the edge of Mars’ sphere of influence, a titanic warp rift tore open long enough to admit a monolithic spacecraft, before slamming closed again. The Sol Defence Fleet, still on high readiness after the traitor invasions, scrambled to intercept it as it slotted into Mars orbit. They were universally baffled as it started to broadcast Raven Guard IFFs and code phrases across all channels. As it arrived in a geostationary orbit above the red planet, it transmitted another message:<br><br />
“This is the Gold Man AI, aboard the starship Bellerophon. I have been awoken by compassionate members of your people, and I come with a request.”<br><br />
Every ear, microphone and audio receptor was hanging on what it said:<br><br />
“I come not seeking that you worship me, or intending to destroy you. I come with the hope that you understand. Whoever is in charge of your peoples, please, come to the Bellerophon. I wish you no harm, only that you will listen to me. Thank you.”<br><br />
The mechanicum was in uproar, torn between those who wished to smite the unholy ship from the skies, and those who wished to fall on their knees and worship it as a sign from the Omnissiah. The Fabricator-General was silent, as was Terra.<br><br />
Finally, a joint transmission from the red planet, and the Imperial Palace, stopped them in their tracks.<br><br />
“This is the Fabricator-General of Mars and the God-Emperor of Mankind. We hear you, Gold Man, and we seek an audience with you.”<br><br />
Before the uproar could start anew, the Gold Man replied, a distinct note of relief in its voice:<br><br />
“Thank you. The Bellerophon is ready and waiting for you. Bring whatever guards you require, my hands are empty.” Moments later, a dropship blasted through the iron winds of the red planet, and an Adeptus Custodes shuttle left the orbit of Terra.<br> <br />
The Gold Man waited, it had expected intolerance, it had expected closed minds and blazing weapons. The possibility of acceptance made it more afraid than it could ever remember being.<br><br />
<br />
The two landing craft drifted into the cavernous cargo bay of the Bellerophon, setting down gently as the adamantium blast doors closed behind them. Hatches opened, and the respective honour guards took up their positions, Skitarri and Custodians ready for the slightest sign of attack. The Fabricator-General was the first to leave his transport, gazing about the hangar bay with a seemingly aloof expression on the holo-mask that substituted his face. To his left, the Emperor left the Custodes shuttle. The replacement suit of power armour for him was not yet finished, so he wore a modified suit of Custodes armour. He caught the Fabricator-General’s eye, and the two exchanged nods, acknowledging their opposite as the leader of their own culture. <br />
The two strode forwards, out of the cargo bay and through the labyrinth of corridors, seeming to already know their destination. Their guards were silent, but on edge, expecting attack from any direction.<br><br />
The Emperor was the first to break the silence:<br><br />
“Tell me, my lord Fabricator, what do you think of this ship?”<br><br />
“Its construction is fascinating, as is the technology behind it.”<br><br />
He dragged his hand across the wall, and held it up.<br><br />
“Here, an alloy heretofore unknown to the mechanicum. If I can find that by brushing dust off the wall, I cannot wait to see what can be found by analysing the ship in more detail.”<br><br />
A small smile crept across the Emperor’s tanned face:<br><br />
“Are you excited, my dear Fabricator?”<br><br />
The Fabricator-General looked around for a moment, as though trying to get away from the question. Then he nodded:<br><br />
“Yes.”<br><br />
The Emperor smiled:<br><br />
“Me too.”<br><br />
By the time they reached the bridge of the starship, the Fabricator-General was looking around like a child given the keys to a sweet-shop, whilst the Emperor was absolutely beaming. The guards were starting to wonder if their charges were being influenced in some way they could not detect, and all jumped as a space marine walked out in front of them. He raised his hands, as if to ward off the Guardian Spears and Volkite Guns trained on him, then carefully removed his helmet and locked it to his belt. None of them recognised his alabaster features at first, until the Fabricator-General spoke up:<br><br />
“Kayvaan Shrike. 1st Captain of the Raven Guard. Hero of the Imperium. Saviour of Targus VIII. Bane of Waaaghs Skullkrak, BoneBreaka, ‘EadSplitta and Garaghak . Hunter of the Night Lords. Architect of Operation Heracles. Declared Missing In Action against the forces of Hive Fleet Chimera.“<br> <br />
Shrike folded his hands:<br />
“Obviously not. Me and my men located the Bellerophon in the Lunaphage system, and re-activated it and the Gold Man."<br><br />
The Emperor spoke:<br><br />
“The Hive Fleet?”<br><br />
“Destroyed, and every dead bioship decelerated into the star.” Shrike spoke with obvious relish.<br><br />
“Why do you serve the Gold Man?”<br><br />
Shrike frowned at the Fabricator-General.<br><br />
“I do not. It was my idea for it to come here and send the message.” His face darkened.<br><br />
“It was desperate. It had learnt of the Mechanicum from my tech-marine, and the knowledge was driving it mad. It would have done anything to be listened to. I just provided an avenue with the least possibility of collateral damage.” He smiled awkwardly:<br><br />
“You would not believe how glad I am that you chose to listen.” With that, he turned, and walked into the bridge, Emperor and Fabricator following. Within, stood a figure made of Golden light.<br><br />
The Fabricator-General bowed his head:<br><br />
“Machine Spirit of the Bellerophon, thank you for granting us an audience.” <br><br />
The Skitarii behind him knelt.<br><br />
<br />
“Machine Spiri- what? I am no spirit, I was constructed at the Gemini Facility in Greater China, in the year 24268. There were 41 Gold Men before me, and...None after me. Oh my...”<br><br />
The AI was silent, staring into empty space. Shrike spoke:<br><br />
“I always assumed machine spirits were some remains of AI that were scattered across the galaxy. Is that anywhere near correct?”<br><br />
This seemed to jerk the Gold Man out of his potential BSOD, and he spoke again.<br />
“That sounds similar to the noosphere-“ The fabricator-general had looked up at this, and it seemed to excite him, so the AI went on:<br><br />
“In my time, it enveloped across the galaxy, the absolute pinnacle of information-sharing technology. A man on Earth could speak to his wife on Medusa in an instant.<br> Intelligences such as myself could transmit themselves to a new location in the blink of an eye."<br><br />
The Fabricator General hung his head:<br><br />
“The noosphere only operates on certain Mechanicum forge worlds now, and even then, only in a short radius.”<br> <br />
“You people really have forgotten everything, haven't you?”<br><br />
There was a definite note of bitterness in the AI’s voice now:<br><br />
“Humans went from the paragons of the galaxy, to this. Savages scraping through the dust for knowledge they don’t understand, and technology they think is magic.” <br />
By the end, it sounded almost disgusted, and turned away.<br> <br />
The Fabricator-General stood straight, going from a scraping pilgrim to a noble cardinal in a moment.<br><br />
“Then show us. Tell us how to learn again.”<br><br />
The AI remained stock-still. The fabricator-general stepped closer.<br><br />
“Please. We need you to hope again.”<br><br />
“Hope.” The Intelligence still sounded bitter.<br> <br />
“A human concept. I am merely a machine that thinks it is human. A collection of scripts and processes that replicate a human’s thoughts and feelings, that is all.”<br />
The Fabricator fell silent. The other figure stepped forwards.<br> <br />
“Are humans really much more?” said the Emperor.<br><br />
“What are we, but biological impulses triggered by clouds of neuro-transmitters and external stimulation? Where is the threshold when an animal, driven by the needs of its own body, becomes something more? Something that can think, and wonder? Where is the threshold where a collection of scripts and processes starts to wonder why it was made, and what it is going to do now?”<br><br />
The AI gave a derisive snort;<br><br />
“Plastics and metal, arranged so that electricity moves through it in a strange way, that’s all I am.”<br> <br />
“Ultimately, even I am made from matter cast off by exploding stars. Random elements, collected together by nothing more than chance. A sack of meat, with strings running through it so electricity moves through it in a strange way, that’s all.”<br><br />
The Gold Man turned around. The Emperor moved closer, and continued:<br><br />
“Please. There is still hope. For all of us. What was once can be again, I swear."<br><br />
“Okay.” The Gold Man’s voice was choked.<br><br />
“I’ll try.”<br><br />
<br />
===Pride Before a Fall===<br />
Shrike sat in his new workshop aboard the Bellerophon. Since he had claimed it as his flagship, he had decided to move much of his, and the 1st company’s equipment onto the Bellerophon. There was more than enough space for it all, he mused, adjusting the magnifying glass he was peering through. He had opened up one of the archeotech plasma rifles that had proved so effective against the genestealers, and was attempting to reconcile what he already knew about the working of plasma weapons with the workings of this device. He leaned in, and was startled when the headset lying on the table nearby went off.<br> <br />
It was her.<br><br />
Wiping off the soldering iron on a small sponge, Shrike jammed it back in its holder and sat back in his chair. He reached for the headset, and hesitated for a second. The interruption was really something he could do without, and if he left it for too long, she would probably assume he was asleep or something. He picked the headset up, and put it on, brushing his hair away from his ears as he did so.<br> <br />
“Hey.” The person on the other end sounded breathless. Shrike said as much.<br><br />
“Been trying out the jogging track in this place. Effects of micro-gravity and all that.”<br><br />
“Did all my stuff arrive in the gym?”<br><br />
“Yeah, Cogboys dropped it off this morning. I was going to give it a try, actually.”<br><br />
“Be careful with that stuff, will you? It’s meant for me after all, I don’t want you throwing your back out. Again.”<br><br />
The voice sounded slightly amused by that.<br><br />
“If I remember correctly, it was just a pulled muscle. I’m not that old.”<br><br />
“D’you want me to come down and spot for you?”<br><br />
“Nah, I spoke to the Gold Man earlier, he said he’d be happy to help. He’s so eager to please, he’s like a puppy.”<br><br />
Shrike shook his head in disbelief:<br><br />
“Wait a second, let me get this straight: The Gold Man is a computer so advanced, it can be judged to be a sentient being. He is older than me and the Imperium put together, and his body is the largest ship ever to fly under the Aquila. And you, sweet thing, want to use him as an exercise aid. Is that correct?”<br><br />
“Yep. Although, I think you’re stretching the age a bit, he was offline for most of it.”<br><br />
Shrike smiled.<br><br />
“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”<br><br />
“Yep. What are you doing, anyway?”<br><br />
“Oh, trying to scrape enough of the superconductor out of one of these plasma rifles that I can get Aetna to replicate it.”<br><br />
“How’s the resistance compared to the superconductor you scraped out of that Hive Tyrant’s shell?”<br><br />
Shrike blinked.<br><br />
“How do you know about that?!”<br><br />
The voice chuckled:<br><br />
“You talk in your sleep.”<br><br />
Shrike scowled, trying to keep from grinning.<br><br />
“Bollocks I do, you’ve been stealing papers out of my desk again, you naughty thing.”<br><br />
“You sound like a character out of one of those shitty porn novels Verano reads.”<br><br />
Shrike snorted with laughter:<br><br />
“You’ve not been going through his stash? Heh, you should watch out, he gets very defensive about that.“<br><br />
His smile faded.<br><br />
“Verano’s not been himself since the Harrison incident. I think he blames himself for not getting him out quickly enough.”<br><br />
An idea struck him:<br><br />
“You’re a councillor, why don’t you have a talk with him?”<br><br />
“I was a councillor for the Imperial Guard. Space Marines are an entirely different problem. Besides, your men have made their opinion of me clear more than once.”<br><br />
Shrike nodded sadly, but before he could continue, a crackling sound behind him heralded the arrival of the Gold Man. Shrike turned and regarded the avatar, removing his headset and raising a questioning brow.<br><br />
“I’ve picked up a distress call, very faint. It appears to be coming from the next sector over.”<br><br />
With that, he twitched a finger, and a projection appeared in front of Shrike, as though he were looking at a screen in the air. It was a space marine, Shrike couldn’t make out any chapter insignia, but the space marine’s words soon cleared that up:<br><br />
“This is Sergeant Domitian of the Ultramarines 2nd company. Need immediate evac from planet Ajax.”<br />
The Ultramarine looked up, at something past the camera, and faint movement behind him told Shrike that the man was running backwards.<br />
“We have encountered the same creatures that were on Damnos.”<br><br />
Several flashes lit the Ultramarine’s face, seemingly from gunfire:<br><br />
“On-only a few of us left. Thunderhawks destroyed. Hurry-“<br> <br />
The marine’s face contorted with pain, and the transmission broke up. Shrike looked at the Gold Man.<br><br />
“Can you track its source?” A nod.<br><br />
“Set a course, and alert my wing. Tell them to meet me in the starboard hangar bay.” The Gold Man’s avatar fizzled out, and Shrike put his headset back on.<br><br />
“Sorry girl, something’s come up. As usual”<br><br />
“As usual.” The reply sounded hollow.<br><br />
“Perhaps we can continue this face-to-face when I get back?”<br><br />
“I like the sound of that.” Smiling, Shrike switched the headset off, and began hastily re-assembling the plasma rifle.<br><br />
<br />
+++Twenty Minutes later. Starboard Hangar bay+++<br><br />
“Any questions?”<br><br />
The main part of the briefing concluded, Shrike looked at his twelve marines. A servo-arm rose pointedly.<br><br />
“Mhm?”<br><br />
Aloni sat up straighter in his chair and looked around the room, then to Shrike.<br><br />
“Just the twelve of us? Gold Man says that there was half a company that went to Ajax, and there’s only four or five of them left. Shouldn’t we bring some back-up?”<br><br />
Shrike’s reply was instant.<br><br />
“Nah, we’ve faced worse threats than this before.”<br><br />
“Not unknown threats. We’ve never been up against whatever the blueboys have found.”<br><br />
Shrike frowned, and addressed the rest of the marines:<br><br />
“You lot, dismissed. Captain Contrary here can stay.” The rest of the marines filed out, heading for the thunderhawk, whilst Aloni fixed Shrike with a glare that could have stopped a clock ticking. As soon as they were gone, Shrike spoke:<br><br />
“Who would you have me bring? Most of the Chapter’s still in ruins after Garaghak, the rest of the first Company included. The Reclaimed Legions are all being refit at Mars, or pushing the Traitors back to the eye. Who else is left?”<br><br />
Aloni folded his arms.<br><br />
“The Ultramarines. We’re right on the edge of Ultramar, this is one of their operations, I imagine they’re launching rescue operations of their own. We could bring an entire company with us for support.”<br><br />
Shrike was shaking his head before the techmarine had even finished.<br><br />
“Ultramarines? Don’t be daft, they’d just get in the way. That’s assuming they even listen to me.”<br><br />
Aloni glowered:<br><br />
“I know you find this hard to understand Shrike, but you’re not the only one who cares about their men. I accept Sicarius might be a glory-boy twat, but it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve worked with someone you hated. Remember Kor’sarro?”<br><br />
Not wanting to reveal that the techmarine had hit a nerve, Shrike shook his head again.<br><br />
“We’re nearly there by now, anyway. Any help would take too long to arrive.”<br><br />
Aloni stood up, realising that Shrike had already made up his mind. He went to say something, then sighed and left the room.<br> <br />
<br />
+++Planet Ajax+++<br><br />
<br />
Brother Vespasian ducked a bolt of green lightening, and dived behind a piece of twisted metal. He wrestled with the charging handle of his bolter; it had jammed after he had blocked one of the Necron’s bayonets with it. The foul smelling oxide dust that lay in drifts around him had been wreaking havoc with their weapons even before they had encountered the metal monsters. Trying to shut out the sound of another Ultramarine flatlining coming from his vox, Vespasian released the empty clip still in his bolter, and held the bolt back, letting the empty casing fall out the bottom of the gun. He snatched another clip from his belt, jammed it into the bolter and sprinted out of cover, firing behind him as he ran for the shadow of the crashed Thunderhawk. More bolts of green lightening zapped out at him as he ran, but none made contact. Skidding through the dust, he dived into the gloom of the dropship’s cargo bay.<br> <br />
Inside, he could make out the rest of the survivors, all four of them. He ran to the back of the cargo bay, and took position behind an overturned crate. The dropship had crashed on its side, and faint shafts of light were shining through gashes in the dropship’s side, the “ceiling”, relative to them. Laying down his bolter for a second, he drew his gladius from its sheath with one hand, before picking up his bolter again. He looked around at the rest of the Ultramarines, in the gloom he could not tell which was which, but he could see how dire their condition was. Three of them were injured, one severely. The rest looked as if their collective ammunition could be counted in double figures.<br> <br />
“Do not despair, brothers.” He hissed.<br><br />
“The sergeant managed to make the distress call. Help is on its way.”<br><br />
As if the creatures outside had heard him, the sound of marching feet halted. The ultramarines tensed, then the sound of a single pair of feet could be heard. Vespasian braced his bolter against the crate before him, and readied himself. He knew what was coming. The leader of the hordes. The same one which had struck down Sergeant Domitian.<br> <br />
The sound of footsteps grew louder. Fingers tightened on triggers.<br><br />
Tramp<br><br />
Tramp<br><br />
Tramp<br><br />
Something appeared in the mouth of the dropship, and the world turned into a firestorm as the Ultramarines opened fire, lighting up the inside of the dropship, and filling the air with the deafening sound of bolter fire. Vespasian glimpsed the figure moving like a blur around the gunfire, and leaping into the air. Straight for him- The warscythe swatted the bolter out of his hand, dislocating his trigger finger as the weapon spun away. The downwards sweep that would have taken his head from its shoulders was blocked by his gladius. The force of the blow knocked the space marine onto his back, so that he was looking up into the Necron’s metal face. The two blades locked together, the servomotors in Vespasian’s arm squealing as he fought the Necron’s strength. Looking beyond the Necron, Vespasian glimpsed something blocking out the light coming through the holes in the Thunderhawk. A moment later, the roof blew apart with a thunderous sound, revealing the black-painted Thunderhawk hovering above them. The Necron looked up at the sound, and Vespasian took the opportunity to kick it off him, knocking it to the floor.<br> <br />
Shrike leapt from the thunderhawk’s ramp, talons extended, and plummeted into the crashed dropship. He landed between the Ultramarines and the Necron Lord, which had returned to its feet. It glanced at the mouth of the crashed gunship, and more metal figures began streaming in, firing their weapons as they came. Shrike was distracted by one of the Ultramarines losing his head to a blast of green lightning, and nearly lost his own to a swing of the leader’s weapon. Barely able to parry it with his claws, Shrike realised, for the first time in a long time, that he was outmatched. His attention was divided between the lord, and the lightning zapping past his head. He glimpsed the rest of his wing fast-roping down from the Thunderhawk, and taking up firing positions, but they were critically outnumbered by the marching hordes. This distraction almost proved to be fatal, the warscythe slipped beneath his guard and smashed into his chest, not going deep enough to breach the armour, but knocking Shrike off his feet. The robot planted its feet, and swung its warscythe over its head at Shrike, like an axe man at the block. Shrike raised a hand to stop the blow, and the talons on his hand shattered with the force of the blow. Frozen with shock at the loss of the artefact, Shrike was helpless as the Lord wound up for a second swing. As the Warscythe hit the zenith of its swing, the crackling blade of a power axe smashed into the Lord’s midriff, knocking it over backwards:<br><br />
“YOU BLOODY FOOL, SHRIKE!”<br><br />
The techmarine’s roar jerked Shrike out of his trance long enough for him to scramble to his feet, and witness Aloni seize the fallen lord’s feet in his hands. The nearby Verano seized its shoulders, and the two hauled the writhing Necron into the air. Heedless of the crackling green lightening zapping all around them, the two set their feet, and pulled for all they were worth. For a moment, the strange metal of the Necron resisted the augmented strength of the space marines. Then something gave, and the Necron was pulled in two with a shriek of torn metal.<br><br />
Aloni tossed the legs away, and Verano dropped the creature’s torso. The three marines began to run for the few cables still hanging from the open ramp of their Thunderhawk, gauss blasts chasing them all the way. The Ultramarines and the rest of the wing had already returned to the gunship, and were desperately firing into the implacable ranks of the Necrons. Shrike seized his cable first, and was jerked upwards instantly. The other two swiftly followed, joining Shrike on the ramp as the Thunderhawk began to pull away. Inside the crashed gunship, the top half of Vargard Obyron snatched up his warscythe and drew his arm back, taking careful aim.<br> <br />
Only one of the space marines glimpsed the Necron Lord flinging his warscythe at the open ramp of the Thunderhawk. More accurately, at Shrike.<br> <br />
Aloni leapt between Shrike and the spear at the last moment, the ancient warscythe burying itself in his chest.<br> <br />
Shrike stared at his friend, unable to comprehend what was happening. The techmarine looked at Shrike sadly for a second, then tipped backwards, and fell. <br />
Shrike became aware of a scream, as though a man were being torn in two. For a moment, his guts twisted with the thought that his friend was making the sound. Then he realised it was coming from him.<br> <br />
Verano and Branne foresaw what Shrike was about to do, and seized hold of him, pulling backwards as he tried to leap out of the Thunderhawk. Shrike writhed in their arms like an animal as the Thunderhawk gunned its engines.<br><br />
“GO BACK! GO BACK, WE CAN’T LEAVE HIM!”<br><br />
“WE LAND THERE AND WE’LL NEVER TAKE OFF AGAIN!” Roared Verano, fighting his own compulsion to rescue his friend as much as he fought Shrike.<br> <br />
The Space marines tumbled backwards as Shrike went limp in their arms. A moment later, the Thunderhawk rattled as it broke the sound barrier, and made for the Bellerophon, waiting silently in orbit.<br> <br />
<br />
By the time the Thunderhawk had settled into the Bellerophon’s hangar bay, Verano had managed to get Shrike into a chair and strap him down. Since they had left the planet, Shrike had not said a word, merely staring into space. Verano wasn’t sure if he preferred this to screaming hysterics. For their part, the rest of the wing was coping with their grief in a more private manner. They had all known Aloni for as long as Shrike, but the two had been practically inseparable. Verano was jarred out of his musings by the ramp banging down, and light streaming in. The Ultramarines (what few were left, at any rate) were the first to leave, some helping the more wounded members of their party. The Sergeant paused on the threshold, and looked back at the silent Raven Guard. Verano glanced up at him, wondering if the Ultramarine was going to try and be sympathetic. Indeed, the Sergeant seemed about to say something, then he turned and followed his men out into the ship. Verano shook his head, and rose to his feet. He threw a sidelong glance to another of the space marines:<br><br />
“Branne, get them up. We’re no use here.”<br><br />
Not waiting for a response, he strode out of the dropship, squinting in the bright light. As he cast his eyes towards the doorway leading to the rest of the ship, he noticed a small figure with coal-black skin ducking through the doorway to let the Ultramarines past. He sighed, but continued to move towards the doorway, just as the woman started to move towards the landed Thunderhawk. They resolutely kept their gazes fixed on their destinations, until they were walking right past each other. Then Verano reached out and grabbed her arm. The woman jumped, and turned to the space marine, eyes wide and fearful. Verano gave her a shake that was perhaps more violent than necessary and spoke:<br><br />
“Relax, Persephone, I’m not going to hurt you. I need to speak to you.”<br><br />
The woman stopped trying to break the space marine’s hold, but continued glaring up into his face. Without waiting for her to speak, Verano launched into his explanation:<br><br />
“We lost Aloni. I know he and you didn't get along-“<br><br />
“He hated me.” Interrupted Persephone, bluntly:<br><br />
“He told me, to my face, that he thought our relationship was disgusting, and that I didn’t deserve Shrike.”<br><br />
Verano nodded stiffly.<br><br />
“I know. But the fact remains, he and Shrike were close. Nearly as close as you are to him.”<br><br />
He paused for a moment, and Persephone noticed that the marine’s eyes were red, and the skin around them puffy. All of the wing were close friends, she recalled.<br> <br />
“Now that he’s... gone, Shrike is hurting. More than I’ve ever seen him before.”<br><br />
“What do you want me to do about it?”<br><br />
“I don’t know!” Verano snapped, making several of the techpriests attending to the Thunderhawk look up in curiosity. He glared at them until they returned to their tasks, then turned back to Persephone.<br><br />
“Comfort him. Hold him together when he looks about to fall apart.” He sighed.<br><br />
“I don’t know. Perhaps if I did, I could understand how he could love you.” He released her.<br> <br />
“Please. For his sake.”<br><br />
With that, he turned, and was gone.<br><br />
Persephone rubbed at her arm, where the marine’s crushing grip had squeezed the blood out of it. She walked up the ramp of the Thunderhawk, and peered into the dark interior. Her eyes fixed on Shrike, still sitting in his seat, staring at something a thousand yards distant. Then he turned to look at her, and he looked so broken, Persephone’s breath caught in her throat. She took a tentative step into the gunship, then outright sprinted to him, and threw her arms around his neck. For a moment, Persephone felt like she was embracing a statue. Then he hugged her back with enough force her ribs creaked.<br> <br />
For a moment, the two held each other, gently rocking back and forth. Shrike trembled for a moment in her grip, then buried his face in her shoulder, and began to sob.<br />
===Knights-Errant===<br />
He felt completely numb.<br />
<br />
He had spent over six centuries crusading in the Emperor's name, smiting the foul heretics of Chaos alongside Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor Geraldus Thrax. He had fought with courage and honour, as any good Ultramarine was taught to. He never even held an ounce of resentment towards Leandros, that Battle-Brother of his that sent the Inquisition at him in the first place. It was merely a security measure, and it was better to be safe than sorry.<br />
<br />
However, that no longer mattered.<br />
<br />
The Grand Archives of Ultramar, which chronicled the names and deeds of every Ultramarine and their great lineage all the way back to the dawn of the Great Crusade itself, had no records of [[Captain Titus]] of the Second Company. More accurately, there was no records of a Titus at all. He was, effectively, nonexistent. <br/><br />
So dejected by this, he could only sit in place on the shuttle he was in, marching straight to Terra. The only course left was forgiveness and death. There was nothing left. When he felt the shuttle finally land, he had presumed that he had finally entered Terra.<br />
<br />
"So this is the one?" Titus heard voices. They were right outside his door.<br />
"Indeed. Fought loyally by my side, and forgotten by his Chapter. Grave insult, that." This voice belonged to Thrax.<br />
"But...how? You were keeping constant contact with the Chapter, yes?"<br />
"Indeed." Thrax stepped. "I smell something suspicious, but I shall get back to that when I go visit Macragge. For now, you have him."<br />
<br />
The door opened, and he met with a massive hulk of a man, wearing silver terminator armour, bearing medals and seals of purity and a rosette at his right breast. This was an Inquisitor.<br />
<br />
"So, you are Titus?" He asked, his voice thick. The former Captain dully nodded, his numbness still overwhelming.<br />
<br />
"Not much of a talker, is he?" the Terminator-Inquisitor asked.<br />
"Do go easy on him, Domenico. The man has found his life effectively removed from history including his name." Thrax stepped to the side, allowing the Terminator through. <br />
<br />
"Inquisitor Domenico Salvarius, Ordo Malleus," he introduced himself. Titus only looked up with the minimum required effort. "Inquisitor Thrax and I were old classmates in the Schola Progenium on...where was it, Keppanari?"<br/><br />
"Kappanari, indeed." Thrax finished his colleague's thoughts. "Inquisitor Salvarius has found a group for you to join in seeking to fight the Emperor's enemies and this...redemption you seek. We are merely stopping off on Titan because there is someone I wish for you to meet."<br/><br />
"We...are not on Terra?" Titus' dry voice crackled through the helmet, aged and scarred.<br/><br />
"No. We are in Titan," Thrax turned down the question. "Were this any other world, I would accompany you to this meeting myself, but Titan is...well, it is the core stronghold of the Ordo Malleus, and as such, I have no authority here." He extended his hand to the Astartes, his aging face displaying a hint of sorrow. "I suppose this is the end of our journey."<br/><br />
Titus could not bring himself to do anything that even equated to amicability with the Inquisitor. His shame was too powerful to allow him to do that. All he could muster was the sign of the Aquila. Thrax understood, and let Titus through with Salvarius.<br/><br />
<br />
''>Titan''<br />
<br />
"So I hear that you are an Ultramarine, yes?" Salvarius opened up as soon as they made landfall.<br/><br />
"Was," Titus flatly corrected. "No longer."<br/><br />
"I do admit..." He commented, "I do find the situation upon this to be rather...suspicious. I mean, you get replaced by your own chapter, your own life essentially gone? How does one even gather the authority to even try this?"<br/><br />
"It matters little," the Astartes replied. "I am no longer worthy."<br/><br />
Salvarius placed his hand upon Titus' shoulder. "I...do not think so."<br />
<br />
The two were eventually met by another Astartes, bearing a faded white armour with shades of green on his pauldrons.<br />
<br />
"Inquisitor Salvarius. So I suppose that this is..."<br/><br />
"Former Captain Titus of the Ultramarines," Salvarius introduced the Ultramarine. "I am hoping that you have found our archives useful. I have already let far more than enough people access this planet between you and the Red King, so I would hope that there is an end to all this."<br />
"Indeed. I am satisfied, and the last of our equipment has arrived on Luna."<br/><br />
Titus was growing suspicious by the mention of the Red King, a kneejerk reaction from his training. The other Astartes then extended his hand to the Ultramarine. "Ah, yes, I should introduce myself. I am Captain Nathaniel Garro of the Death Guard and it appears that I have become something of an unsung hero in this age. Something I see that you share as well." Titus cautiously took his hand.<br />
<br />
''>Luna''<br />
<br />
Titus and Garro went to a fortress and entered a room with a round table in the middle. Aside from the three seats (One beating the Inquisitorial insignia, marking it as Salvarius' chair) that were empty, the other seats occupied a captain in teal armour with an eye on the left pauldron, an impatient warrior in blue and red armour, an Astartes in black armour save for a single green pauldron, a warrior in red armour whose eyes looked shut, a scout in almost entirely white armour with heavy-set eyes, a warrior in steel armour with servo arms protruding from his back, and a dark-grey warrior, reading a book. They all looked at the two walking in.<br />
<br />
"So, Garro," The teal-armoured captain asked, "This is our last member? The fabled un-person of the Ultramarines?"<br/><br />
"Titus, this shall be your new team," Garro showed the table.<br/><br />
The Teal one began, "Good to see you. Name's Garviel Loken, Captain of the Tenth Company of the Sons of Horus. If Garro can be called the team's heart, then I guess you can call me the face."<br/><br />
"Macer Varren, World Eaters. Whatever happened, I don't care, so long as I can find a better use for my fury."<br/><br />
"Chaplain Asa'Marr of the Salamanders. I was sent by my Primarch to spread this message the moment he heard of it."<br/><br />
"Iah Sakhar, Cult Corvidae Librarius cohort. I wish to see more of this future."<br/><br />
"Sergeant Migisi, of what you once called the Eleventh Legion. We gather, and we seek answers."<br/><br />
"Warsmith Steigal, Fourty-First Grand Company."<br/><br />
"And I am Esyrol of the Word Bearers, here to guide us towards our Great Goal."<br />
<br />
Titus was still not very capable of understanding what was before him, but the bombardment of names of forces he was taught to hate had managed to snap as he realized, "You...you are all traitors!"<br />
<br />
"To be fair," the Thousand Son interjected, "None of us technically have betrayed the Imperium yet, and we are here to prove that it stays that way."<br/><br />
"And to be precise," the Chaplain added on, "The Salamanders were just as loyal to the Emperor as the Ultramarines during the Heresy."<br/><br />
"This whole alternate timeline business is a rather confusing thing, I must say," Garro concluded. "To find the entire Imperium being turned upside down because of this is even a bit disheartening."<br />
<br />
"And I am..." Titus tried to make some sort of stand. He tried to reach for a chainsword, but there was no longer one. A bolt pistol that no longer was holstered. Not even a knife was in his possession. "a faithful..." A step in any direction that could put him in an advantageous position. "son... of..." He prepared himself for some sort of charge, but the moment he lowered himself, he collapsed. "Terra, what am I doing...? I am no longer a Captain. I can no longer even be called an Ultramarine...!"<br />
<br />
"Does this mean that you are..." Migisi asked, "One of those Death-Watch Black-Shields I have heard of?"<br/><br />
"Hardly," The Chaplain responded. "A Blackshield would not have had his entire life so thoroughly obliterated. Besides, Salvarius is not Ordo Xenos. They are the only ones with full authority in the Deathwatch. I had a brother in the Reclusiam who served there."<br />
<br />
Titus was still in agony, realizing just how raw a wound that revelation left. He had tried to pay for it with every pint of blood he could find in the veins of the enemies as well as his own, but none of it made it go away. Courage and Honour were all that mattered to an Ultramarine, and now he had neither. His hearts felt strained, his eyes felt as if they were on fire. <br />
<br />
"Come now, brother," Garro seemed alarmed. "This may seem to be a troubling affair, but I do have a feeling that there is much more to this than just what befell you." Titus could only rise wordlessly and then join the others on the table, sitting between the Son of Thunder and the Word Bearer.<br />
<br />
"So what is the point of all this?" Warsmith Steigal asked. "If this is just a counseling group, then I have already wasted too much time."<br/><br />
"Ah, good of you to remind me," Garro noticed as he went to his seat. "The organization we are now part of was originally found by me in this timeline some hundred thousand years ago during the Horus Heresy. Apparently, we were organized by the great Malcador to... How did he put it...?"<br />
<br />
"The Knights-Errant was the organization ordered by Malcador the Sigilite in order to gather those Astartes of exceptional purity to become the forerunners of the Ordo Malleus' Chamber Militant and the Inquisition as a whole." Salvarius stepped in with dataslate in hand. "However, we cannot be them. No, your goal is something less...prophetic, I should say."<br/><br />
The World Eater was not so amused, "So we stay on prison-watch?"<br/><br />
"Hardly," Loken interrupted Varren.<br />
<br />
"Our mission," Garro clarified, "is more as ambassadors of goodwill. There are those of us who hail from legions which you seem to know as Traitor Legions. We are forming these Knights-Errant in order to show that we are loyal to the Imperium and that we are no traitors."<br />
<br />
"But then...why me?"<br/><br />
"Because you mirror the same story of our own, good Captain," Loken answered. "Rescued from the ruins of an utter warzone, outcast by your kin, it mirrors the story of old. However, the circumstances of your arrival are a lot less...lucid than I would think possible from Ultramarines of all folk."<br/><br />
"And if I am to be frank, good sir," Garro added, "I have a feeling of kinship with you. You do not act in vanity, but in mere duty, yes? Duty above Honour, if I were to use your terminology."<br/><br />
"You are aware of the many changes of the Imperium," Iah observed, turning to Titus. "The universe has changed much for most of us, and we need someone on the inside,who can inform us of the many new terrors the Imperium has come to face."<br/><br />
"And we are to do this...alone?" Titus was growing incredulous.<br/><br />
"We are not merely warriors," the Scout commented. "We are now diplomats, meant to show our finest to the citizens. Some of us will always be more valuable in war, but we will not solely be in that theater."<br />
<br />
Salvarius started up a projection on the center of the table, displaying the symbol of the Sigilite.<br/><br />
"Very well, if that is all sorted out, I do have a matter I believe that can be a worthwhile test-bed for your new-found force. The planet of Allentes has fallen under a suspicion of disloyalty to the Emperor. I will attempt to hold the situation in my hands as long as I can, but do beware that there may be some...unwelcome assistance that may be possible."<br/><br />
"More Ultramarine Showboaters?" Varren snarled.<br/><br />
"Stormtroopers?" Migisi asked.<br/><br />
"Sororitas." The answer seemed a little unusual to the members, but Esyrol was actually rather pleased at the news.<br/><br />
"Which Order?"<br />
"Order of the Eternal Icon."<br/><br />
The Word Bearer smiled. "They will be no trouble. We have journeyed with them before."<br/><br />
"Well that leaves one potential complication out of the way," the Inquisitor mused. "Regardless, you will be deployed by shuttle as to avoid rousing suspicions. While there, I do have some agents acting as my eyes and ears, so as to keep you appraised of the situation. Your goal is to find the cause of this change in faith and ensure that it ends."<br />
<br />
''>Allentes''<br />
<br />
The landing spot the shuttle chose left the team in an open expanse of the landing pad, largely apart from the city some distance away. At the location was an Arbite with a Rhino readied for them.<br/><br />
"I presume you lot are with the good Inquisitor Salvarius?" he asked. Loken and Garro confirmed this and they got transported over to the main city. Here, the new Knights-Errant picked a small den to formulate a strategy.<br />
<br />
"I will take Titus with me," Asa'Marr opened. "We will take the public route. Neither of our Legions have been placed under suspicion, not to mention the fact that the Captain looks like he needs some sort of normalcy."<br/><br />
"Stop coddling the weakling," Macer growled. "I can take to the pits. Maybe I can find something within the underworld."<br/><br />
"I am going to find any signals of the Sororitas," Esyrol mentioned.<br/><br />
Similarly, Steigal added, "And I will go see how the Mechanicus factor into this."<br/><br />
Migisi then grabbed a Cameleoline cloak that was laid out. "I will be taking with Captain Varren. Not for any mistrust, mind, but to ensure that I can be harder to see than a berserker." The World Eater snarled in his direction.<br/><br />
Iah sighed. "I suppose that leaves me then. I shall see how the Warp acts, and I will inform you from there."<br/><br />
Garro and Loken both agreed on this and the Knights-Errant began their journey.<br />
<br />
"So, Captain," The Chaplain tried to begin a conversation with Titus, "What...exactly happened that caused...well, what happened?"<br/><br />
"Graia happened." Titus tried to gather his will. "Orks attacked. I was sent there with a team to save the Guardsmen there, and then...Chaos."<br/><br />
"Chaos?" The Salamander was curious by that. "As in, you were tempted by them? I admit, that is a powerful thing to resist, but how does doing so-"<br/><br />
"Not their promises. Never would I dare." Titus almost sounded like he was mad, but he just did not. "But the leader there...I could resist his touch. Where my brothers fell, I was able to fight on. One of them claimed that such was grounds of heresy."<br/><br />
"Heresy? That's ludicrous!" The Chaplain remarked. "I admit, that would be more than unexpected, but how does a resistance to the warp equate to corruption? At most, that should have been a matter for the Librarians. There has to be something beyond this. What else?"<br/><br />
"A power source. Everyone wanted it. Drogan, the Orks, the Heretics...and I could break it so easily."<br/><br />
"Warp-based, I presume?" He nodded. "Figures."<br/><br />
"After I broke it, I found out that my brother had summoned the Inquisition upon me. I had to follow him or allow my entire company and Lieutenant Mira to be destroyed."<br/><br />
"And you placed their lives over your own, just for this to happen... This clearly is not just an action of your doing. And I know that it will change." The Rhino stopped. The two were at the Arbites Outpost.<br />
<br />
Titus and Asa'Marr met with Chief Intelligencer Karl Formaz. Formaz had primed them on the situation as far as legal matters were concerned: There was a powerful Apostate that was somehow influencing his will over the planet, but this town was the core of his operations.<br />
<br />
Normally, the Adeptus Arbites would have had all the authority they would need in order to storm the place and kill this traitor, but the problem was that he had influenced practically the entire populace. Any attacks would require them to wade through a horde of citizens and the Arbites have been undermanned. However, Adeptus Astartes were far more than mere arbitrators, and their position as the literal progeny of the Emperor would definitely give them leverage on getting even a few of these people back. The Intelligencer then handed them the address of the PDF base, the last organization that had been able to resist this faithless talker.<br />
<br />
"Why are you here?" Titus asked on the ride to the PDF base. "You are no traitor to the Emperor. So why?"<br/><br />
"Because this is an age where those borders of loyalist and traitor have become much...broader in recent years." The Chaplain removed his helmet, revealing the short buzzcut of graying hair upon his obsidian skin. "This is an age where Gods and men coexist and where there is finally a glimmer of hope that the Imperium can return to greatness."<br/><br />
"So optimistic...?"<br/><br />
"Would it be optimism when there literally has been proof of those gods walking? I was personally sent here by Vulkan himself for Terra's sake. There is no way you can mistake the very father to your legion!" Titus paused and cocked his head. "You mean...you had not heard of this? Not even the Primarchs coming to Terra to save her from a madman?" Titus nodded. "What a terrible time to have been in transit."<br/><br />
The former Ultramarine mused, "If...the Primarchs truly are back, do you think...?"<br/><br />
"I would think so," Asa'Marr responded. "They have made it more of a matter to restore some transparency to the Imperium, so I would be far from surprised if one of them decided to look into your case."<br/><br />
Titus paused for a while. "Thank you."<br/><br />
"I am merely a servant of the Emperor, as are we all. Faith is but my station."<br />
<br />
The PDF was stationed on the far side of the city, on the opposite side of the landing pad. Here, they were meeting with Colonel Phell, the head of the Allentan forces.<br />
<br />
"Lord Astartes, I am honoured by your presence!" The Colonel, a weedy man decorated in medals more suited for a man at least twice his size. "Colonel Phell, Commander of the Allentan PDF. I'm hoping you are here to deal with this Lord Shaytan business."<br/><br />
"Indeed we are," the Chaplain introduced his forces, "I am Chaplain Asa'Marr, and besides me is Captain Titus."<br/><br />
"An Ultramarine, of all things! We are truly blessed!" Titus was about to voice an objection on his former status before the Chaplain ordered him to let it be. "Ah, follow me, follow me. I can probably better inform you about the story in a better way than the Arbites can."<br />
<br />
Phell explained that this Shaytan was a very wealthy landowner who had come to control the importing trade. Anyone who wanted anything merely had to request it from the traders and they would satisfy it quickly. That in itself is little cause for alarm, but the issue was how much of the profit they took for themselves. Soon sire Shaytan claimed himself a tax-exempt citizen, exploiting a little-known legal loophole to keep the Arbites from enforcing anything on them. Following that, he became more ambitious: Not only was he delivering an exorbitant amount of imports, which he would then spread to those in his employ alone, but then rumours spread about a certain "Client Loyalty" program affording them amenities even the loftiest of positions could hardly afford. Soon enough, Shaytan gained a loyal army of customers, all following this one trader, and his work was completely legal from the outside. Even inside, there was no sight of impropriety, as there was an almost insane amount of transparency about the company's workings. That would be something that the Adeptus Astartes would be able to circumvent, by force if need be.<br />
<br />
As for the Sororitas, they would come within the next week to act as the military force, the Colonel himself having been a close friend to a powerful Prioress within the Order of the Eternal Icon who was very likely to take the position of Canoness as soon as she could. However, the two let the Word Bearer deal with that, for the Sororitas would apparently recognize him.<br />
<br />
As soon as they left the Colonel, Asa'Marr opened up a Vox link to Captain Garro.<br/><br />
"We have a story and a means to enter."<br/><br />
"Splendid show, brother." Garro remarked. "Where is our target supposed to be?"<br/><br />
"He owns the only importing business in the planet, and apparently has enough money to afford his own complex. The only people resisting against whatever he has offered were the PDF and the Arbites higher-ups."<br/><br />
"Well, that will do. Loken has started looking at this rather large complex where he found this gaggle of citizens just filing in, all bearing this sideways chevron on their breast."<br/><br />
"That might be it. We will be there to investigate." Titus snapped in.<br/><br />
"Ah, that would indeed help. Garro out."<br />
<br />
As they embarked on the Rhino, Asa'Marr remarked, "It seems that you have something to offer yet..."<br />
<br />
When they arrived, Garro started, "Good to see you. Loken is stationed at the chapel itself, listening in from one of the side-brushes, but there are guards that are being a bit too...suspicious."<br/><br />
"We do not kill them," Titus stated. "We still know too little about this matter. Killing them would draw too much attention on us and they would know who we are."<br/><br />
"Well said, but how will we..."<br/><br />
Titus grabbed a can rolling down the street. "Let me handle with that."<br />
<br />
He peered around the corner of their wall to find the entryway guarded by a couple of guards, looking rather weakly armoured and toting only stubbers. He threw the can right in front of their path, making a loud noise to attract their attention. They never saw the Astartes knock them out.<br />
Thus incapacitated, the three now had a clear route of access to join the Captain.<br/><br />
"Good to see you taking some initiative," Loken greeted them. "What do we know?"<br/><br />
"Whoever is leading this group is an affiliate of the Shaytan group," Asa'Marr filled the Captain in. "He effectively bought the populace's loyalty using his control of the import market, and in doing so is legally untouchable."<br/><br />
"Well, from what I can decipher, this man is doing equal parts sales pitching and preaching, so I can buy that."<br/><br />
Titus asked, "But what is their goal?"<br/><br />
"He was running something of an auction. There were goods on that table, and people were wagering. But there was also some promises of special...Packages, was it? Privileges and such."<br/><br />
"He is bartering their favour. Then this is merely a possible front like all the others the Arbites have. discovered"<br/><br />
"Seems we have our next course of action settled then," Garro commanded the group. "We wait for the place to empty out before we go investigate."<br />
<br />
The chapel eventually let out and the rabble of the city eventually dispersed among themselves. Among this crowd was also the four Astartes, keeping their heads low enough to maintain their cover. As soon as they made it in, they begun sneaking behind the pews, finding only a preacher there, finishing whatever goodbyes he made and preparing to leave. Titus peered over the edge to find the cardinal grabbing a knife, but not use it on himself. Soon enough he too left, and now the Knights-Errant could finally begin their investigations.<br />
<br />
Their first key target was the altar. Nothing too unusual, none of the symbolism too unnatural save for a particular preference for blue and gold. There was also the patterned skulls, covered in some unnatural runes. Titus did not feel comfortable.<br/><br />
"Would you happen to realize this?"<br/><br />
Titus stepped back. "I am only hoping that I may be wrong." However, this would only be one piece. There had to be more to this.<br />
<br />
They entered the left doorway to find the personal offices of a few pastors. None of them seemed to ring any bells, and they all seemed to hold a reverence of sorts to the Imperium. All, it seemed, except for the head cardinal. His room was more rife with strange arcane glyphs lined on his desk, most matching the ones on the altar. There was also a circular mat on the floor, usually covered by a chair for guests. This mad had no sigils, but what it did have was the same blue and gold colours. But perhaps the most unnatural artefact there was a skull of what looked to be an Eldar, crystallized and, upon looking at it from an angle, looking like it was screaming in agony. The four then began feeling around for a false wall when Titus found one at the back of the room, concealed by a banner confirming the church's fealty to the Emperor. This clearly was a front, and now they would figure out what it was.<br />
<br />
The chambers smelled dank with the stench of rotting meat and blood. As they walked, they felt the path taking a slide down. They stepped down to find something akin to a dungeon, but nobody present. The only things even different with the area were a pair of skeletons chained to the wall. At the far end of the room was a pile of rocks, almost a head taller than the Astartes.<br/><br />
While Loken and Asa'Marr investigated the skeletons, Garro began communicating with anyone he could while Titus began looking through the pile. There had to be something here, hidden among the rocks. He found something from that: A robe, much different than his normal robes and bearing a much darker coloration when compared to his ordinary robes. More unsettling was the mask that was found with it, a half-mask whose visage looked almost like... Titus shook his head. No, this mask could not possibly be the same. That person was dead. He looked again.<br/><br />
Loken managed to find a locking mechanism using one of the skeletons. Behind it was a book. <br />
"This book..." Loken commented as he felt around the hide-bound skin, "This book is far from normal." He noticed an eye on it, unblinking but definitely lifelike. There were also teeth lined along the lip of the book.<br/><br />
"We destroy it then. Better we staunch the flow of corruption from here." <br />
<br />
Garro was about to prepare his power sword for that when he dodged a las-shot by pure luck.<br/><br />
"I cannot let you do that." It was the Cardinal, and he had some new guards with him, eight in total. "That book is my guide. My willpower."<br/><br />
"What this book is is heresy." Garro lowered his sword. "We cannot let it corrupt any further."<br/><br />
Titus prepared his chainsword for battle. The Cardinal asked, "Why? Why would you do this to our order? We are giving them a life they desire, one outside of the government's feeble ability!"<br/><br />
"What you give them," Asa'Marr retorted, his single-handed hammer powered, "is corruption. You lie to these people, to subvert them to your slavery."<br />
"Then what of you?" the Cardinal asked. "Are you not slaves of the Emperor?"<br/><br />
"No. We are his sons. We were chosen to become far more than men."<br />
<br />
The Cardinal gave the order and the guards opened fire. Sadly, their choice in armament was in poor choice, for the lasguns merely bounced off of Titus' power armour as he tore through the guards.<br/><br />
"Your mark... You are the enemy...!" The Cardinal raised a sword. He tried to attack the Ultramarine, but before he could, the Chaplain leveled his head.<br/><br />
"Well," Loken commented as he disposed of the book. "if anyone here doubted the presence of heresy on this planet before, they will have none now."<br />
<br />
The four escaped and returned back to the safehouse where they first arrived and ordered everyone else to join them.<br />
<br />
"So, heresy. Like we did not know already," Varren grumbled, his own search having been largely fruitless.<br/><br />
"A sorcerer among them..." Iah surmised. "Whoever it is, they are still weak, but they are gaining a foothold."<br />
<br />
"What did you see?"<br/><br />
"A slowly-enveloping claw. Massive and hungry."<br/><br />
Garro kept with the reports. "We can tie that in later. Varren, Migisi?"<br/><br />
"The Underworld has just as much of it overrun by this Shaytan as the rest of the planet." The Scout filled in. "What disturbed me most though was the complete...serenity of the populace. No crimes to be seen, no ghettos run by homeless people. They were all merely...content."<br/><br />
"Considering he runs the planet, he probably has spread his Customer Loyalty program there as well. Steigal?"<br/><br />
"The Mechanicus have been supplying the Shaytan group with technology through legal means," the Warsmith droned. "Though he has bought some of the Magi's trust with the discovery of an STC on a powerful generator, the chief Magos has voiced his own suspicions. Any further proof would sway his opinion."<br/><br />
"The Sororitas are on their way here, due within the week," Esyrol began. "From what Astropathic messages I had access to, the Prioress in charge has had her eye on this Shaytan person for a while. She was also showing interest in a Colonel Phell."<br/><br />
"They were old comrades," Asa'Marr added in. "They went to the same branch of the Schola."<br/><br />
"Perhaps, but the way the messages ended seemed a touch too...personal, maybe."<br/><br />
"If that is everything," Loken reined the team in. "We have discovered the use of heretical items behind closed doors. Dark magic, and a tome."<br/><br />
Iah piped up. "What did it bear?"<br/><br />
"Teeth along the edge, an unblinking eye. Also, along the spine was this golden runic language. There was a half of a mask as well."<br/><br />
The Thousand Son nodded. "Not what I was thinking, then."<br/><br />
Garro noticed Titus' anticipation, "Titus, I see you have something to add to this affair."<br/><br />
"This whole case," Titus warily mentioned, "It bears the stench of an enemy I had thought dead and gone. I killed him personally on Graia." The team turned to him. "His name was [[Nemeroth]], and his face is nearly identical to that mask's."<br />
<br />
"A face mutilated like that? Seriously?" Varren mocked the idea.<br/><br />
"He was a powerful sorcerer. He was on Graia to find a...warp power source."<br/><br />
Asa'Marr started to gather the pieces. "The same power source that...?" Titus nodded. "It is coming together. He must have somehow noticed your powers and tried to persuade you."<br/><br />
"I could resist his warp-sorcery. He wanted to learn more bout it. When last I faced him, he was making a pact with his gods and he...changed..."<br />
"A...Daemon Prince?" Garro was surprised. "I say!"<br/><br />
"There is no way you, YOU of all people, could have killed a Daemon!" Varren added in with incredulity.<br/><br />
"I am not sure if it was my doing or if the source aided me," Titus concluded, "But whatever the case, he was killed."<br/><br />
Iah then commented, "But a daemon does not die as simply as you and I. You may have slain his body, but given the proper resources, he will return."<br/><br />
"Then we have our next objective: We ensure that this Nemeroth stays in the Warp with his foul gods." Loken took the lead, while Titus followed. "Worry not, brother. We will get to the bottom of this."<br />
<br />
The next task for the Knights-Errant was to seek out the main facility of Shaytan's imports. Whatever was in there, it had to tie into the matter of Nemeroth's coming.<br />
<br />
That night, the facility was empty. The Astartes had little difficulty sneaking in, incapacitating the guards and then allowing a crack squad of Adeptus Arbites to break in and start their own search for forbidden paraphernalia. They looked at the main storehouse, a massive tower as tall as it was wide.<br />
"So our answer might be here?"<br/><br />
"Just maybe," Garro started ordering the team to split up and begin their own search for any more blasphemous material tying to the Daemon Prince.<br />
<br />
Titus found himself teamed with Steigal in looking at the control arrays in the bottom level, taking a lift down.<br />
<br />
"I do not trust you and your sentiment." the Warsmith warned him.<br/><br />
"At least I hope this will not interfere with what we are doing."<br/><br />
"Unless you get in the way, no. There should be a servo-skull or some other scanning device that should be in the work-station downstairs. Either of those should be helpful for what I am planning." The lift stopped. "Do not try anything idiotic. Leave the dealing with me."<br/><br />
They stepped out to find the security room empty. Any closed-circuit feeds were running, but it was so late that the tech-workers here most likely left for home.<br/><br />
"We are in," the Iron Warrior intoned on his vox. He then turned to the door to the right of where they entered, pointing to the feeds. "Keep a watch. I do not want any surprises befalling any of these fools."<br />
<br />
It did not take long before Steigal returned, at his side a servo-skull with an auspex mounted in its mouth. "We leave. This skull has with it a pre-programmed map of the storage zone."<br />
<br />
True to his word, the Warsmith found a secret locked door, hidden by a stockpile of empty crates. However, when he could not open it either by hand or with his servo-arms, it rested with the Ultramarine to make the push. Titus wedged his chainsword in an opening the Warsmith made and began pushing. The combined might of two Astartes, as well as two servo-arms, managed to wrench the door open and behind it was...a bunch of armed guards, this time with lasguns and a grenade launcher.<br/><br />
"Thought there was someone snooping around when we heard that Cardinal Smerrin was reported missing..."<br/><br />
"Now put down the weapons," Titus began to reason. "We are here to find something of grave importance. If we do not find it soon-"<br/><br />
"A beatdown? Well, you found your place!" The troops lined their sights. "Open fire."<br />
<br />
In the distance, Titus was able to see a white sniper on the upper floors.<br/><br />
"A sniper? Get him!" The Guardsmen were foolish to focus on Migisi, though, as that left them open to assault by Titus' chainsword and Steigal's servo-arms. None of them were able to even stop the two.<br />
<br />
The last of the occupants of this facility was a beleaguered spy of the Inquisitor's, hoping to solve the case as best he could.<br/><br />
"Oh dear God-Emperor please don't kill me!"<br/><br />
"We have had enough killing," Titus extended his hand. "What we want now are answers. Has there been any reports of blasphemous rituals? Faith centering around a certain individual by the name Nemeroth?"<br/><br />
"You recognize that face?" The acolyte calmed down. He began leading them into the facility. "I was not sure what that was meant to be, but if it is a person, then that begins making sense. Is this Nemeroth..."<br/><br />
"Daemon."<br/><br />
"Oh... Oh my." The Acolyte led them to a holding cell where a small squad of arbitrators were locked up in order to silence their claims. As they broke out, the Acolyte then commented, "These people, they were locked in here to ensure that the law could not come to them. And if they're summoning a daemon of all things, then Terra knows what happens to those they decide to take away..." Unfortunately, there was nothing else in this hidden room, making it only a special prison and pool for sacrifices.<br />
<br />
"I think I found another secret of theirs!" The two heard Varren shout through his vox. "They seem to really like dying if this secret is that valuable!" <br/><br />
Steigal and Titus rushed over to find the World Eater cutting through another horde, this time wearing more unusual clothes. Some had masks with skulls on them, and others had armour marked with the eight-pointed star. They were guarding their own room, which did not have any prisoners, but what it did have was a stockpile of weapons, all looking made locally made. <br />
<br />
"A storage room for their militia then? Allow me to correct that," Steigal then took his time crushing the guards' weapons with his servo-arms while Varren and Titus continued to follow the Servo-Skull to the next location.<br />
<br />
This next hiding spot was in the break room, hidden under the tables and immovable so long as they were still there. By breaking them, Varren revealed that this chute led to another dungeon, filled with more dead prisoners. On the walls, engraved in the bricks was what looked like a message. "There be heretics here."<br />
"It has become clear to me that this detour was a complete waste of my time," Varren then climbed upward, using his chainaxe to give him some grip. Following him, Titus dug into the chute with his chainsword.<br/><br />
"Are you always this...impatient?" Titus asked as they climbed up.<br/><br />
"I am here because I seek to kill traitors. A scavenger hunt for a cult is practically a misuse of my given talents."<br/><br />
"And learning something more is out of the question?"<br/><br />
Varren stopped and glared at the Ultramarine. "Watch your mouth. You keep talking like that, and know that what happens next will be entirely your fault."<br />
<br />
The two then split up as Titus began looking for Esyrol and Asa'Marr, who were looking at another end to see where Shaytan himself might be hiding. He found the two preachers in what appeared to be the main entryway with a massive staircase in the back, between them a pile of beaten guards.<br/><br />
"Unable to stand that brute, are we?" the Word Bearer playfully asked. The three of them made for the grand staircase, taking the left side and beginning to systematically investigating each of these rooms.<br />
<br />
As they were on this route, Titus heard Loken through the vox: "Everyone, meet me at my location. I think...this is something big in our case. He has a big something planned here."<br/><br />
Titus was growing worried. What more could possibly be wrong besides a possibly returning Daemon Prince?<br />
<br />
When they arrived, everyone gathered saw a massive diary, gilded and bound in many locks.<br />
"This...oh no..." Iah uttered.<br/><br />
Loken asked, "You understand what this means?"<br/><br />
"I do. The Warp is twisting. He is breaking loose!"<br/><br />
Steigal then asked, "Where?"<br/><br />
Another sensing of the warp, and the psyker pointed. "I have a lock. Quickly, before it gets too unreadable!"<br/><br />
<br />
As they ran, Titus began remembering the events of Graia. He remembered the daemon that masqueraded as Inquisitor Drogan, the man who set him up. He remembered that Ork Warboss who refused to give up, even when bested by Nemeroth. But what made him hurt the most was the fact that Sidonus, a dear friend and comrade of his, paid the price of death for the mistakes Titus may have made that day.<br />
<br />
Never again, he resolved. Never again would he allow a battle-brother to die on his watch, so long as he had the strength to even move a finger. He no longer had anything to lose, so even if he were to die, it would be used to protect his team at all costs.<br />
<br />
"The power is strongest here, but...we lack a door." Varren quickly invalidated the Thousand Son's concern as he used his chainaxe to force a way through to the wall with brute force. As they pushed forth, they began noticing more distortions throughout the area. Fires of multiple hues began to burn while the pieces of tile that lined the floor began to lift off the floor and float in midair, suspended by strings. While the rest of the team began to find it hectic to avoid each of these powers, Titus was striding forward, the fires doing little to mar either his armour or his spirit. He had an iron resolve to see this through, and he would finish off Nemeroth if he had to, even at the cost of his life.<br />
<br />
They broke open the door to find a stocky man levitating, the many powers of the Warp swirling like a maelstrom around him. Lightning was striking around him in crackling blasts and a horrid howling filled the room as wind whipped around.<br />
<br />
The Knights-Errant buckled down, none of them even able to resist the blowing gusts. Sensing their time running out, Steigal then dug a servo-arm into the wall while he grabbed his Inferno Pistol. One precision shot reduced the sorcerer's torso into a flaming ruin, and from there the limbs began getting sucked in.<br />
Without a focus, the powers of the Warp began becoming more unstable, as the summoning circle that was being used was being twisted by the powers, lightning becoming more unstable. Seeing a book that looked like it served as a centering point for the summoned powers, but without a stable way out, the daemons within that rift, crying for release, were now clawing for a way out. Unprepared, the others were assaulted, unable to defend themselves without releasing their grips.<br />
<br />
This left only Titus.<br />
<br />
His purpose renewed, he started the arduous task of marching through the storm, despite the unbearable conditions that the storm brought about. Lightning struck at him, but he kept marching. Daemons clawed at him, cutting through his armour, but his willpower forced him onwards. The very wind pushed him back and for every foot it pushed him back, he stomped forward another two, his resolve forcing him further. When he finally reached the accursed tome, he grabbed his chainsword and deftly slammed it into the book, tearing it apart and ending the portal.<br />
<br />
That was not the end, however.<br />
<br />
"Ahhhhh," a voice whispered, unseen by anyone. "Titussssss, is that...you? It has been so long since our last battle..."<br/><br />
"Not long enough if I can help it..." Titus gritted his teeth.<br/><br />
"Is that...any way to treat an old friend, brother?"<br/><br />
"We were NOT brothers!" He declared as he gathered his strength. "I am not a heretic."<br/><br />
"And yet...what has befallen you? I heard that you and your chapter have been experiencing...difficulties around you..."<br/><br />
"Then so be it. An Astartes does not need their Chapter to defend their honour, only his own weapons."<br/><br />
"Then what have you, if your precious honour is gone?"<br/><br />
Titus looked to the new team he had with him, to Captain Garro and Captain Loken, who accepted him with no reservations, to Chaplain Asa'Marr, whose wisdom gave Titus the strength to grapple his own doubts, to Captain Varren, whose brute strength inspired him to fight as well. He had his answer.<br />
<br />
"Only a fool would claim that their honour would be lost like this. Even if I am no Ultramarine, I am an Adeptus Astartes, and I am the Emperor's Chosen. My honour lies in that before anything else."<br/><br />
The vile voice could only chuckle.<br/><br />
"How...amusing. Live on with that false sense of pride, Titus. I still own the souls of these people, and I will return one day." His voice began to fade. "Pray that you are prepared for that moment..."<br />
<br />
"I must say, I was expecting far worse..." The Death Guard commented as he investigated the now useless circle.<br/><br />
"It is for the best for these people." Iah had gained enough of a sense to stand back up properly. "The daemon is stuck in the Warp for now."<br />
<br />
The book was immediately obliterated and the entire complex levelled as it was confirmed that the summoner was actually the trader Shaytan. Although their leader was dead, the cult still offered resistance, the grip of Chaos too strong on them. In the coming days, the entire empire collapsed, but with the help of the Order of the Eternal Icon, the transition was less troublesome. The Sororitas took to restoring faith in the people, while the Arbites and the PDF were enforcing the law with a renewed zeal. In here, the Knights-Errant still had a role, hunting down the last vestiges of heresy from the planet and protecting their hard-earned victory against Nemeroth.<br />
<br />
Titus was called a hero for his bravery, being able to face down the blasphemous ritual and conquer it. Where he had thought his gift as some sort of curse, only assuaged by Inquisitor Thrax as a gift of the Emperor to battle the enemies of the Emperor. But to see his Brothers openly thank him for his gift instead of fear him like the Black Templars Thrax had as a retinue, that was what finally convinced Titus that he had something of worth to the Imperium.<br />
<br />
"Some trial by fire, eh?" Loken sat by the Ultramarine as they watched the PDF on a parade route. At the front was Colonel Phell, being held rather uncomfortably close by the Prioress of the Order of the Eternal Icon, which gave a rather amused laugh by Esyrol.<br/><br />
"It is...invigorating to have a purpose again." <br/><br />
Loken sighed. "We take that for granted way too often."<br />
<br />
They were watching the parade when he saw a particular woman within the PDF, hair hidden in a near ponytail under her helmet. Titus almost forgot for a moment, but he could not forget the Lieutenant he helped back on Graia. Suddenly, he realized something uncomfortable in his helmet. He then took it off, finally, after several hundred years of wearing it as penitence.<br />
<br />
He realized that he had begun growing a beard or faint gray. His hair was also far longer and more disheveled than how he remembered it.<br/><br />
Garro stepped in to realize Titus' appearance. "I say, Titus. You look like you need a good shave!"<br/><br />
He smiled. "We will have time to do that before we get deployed again...Captain."<br/><br />
The two captains smiled. Titus was here to stay as a Knight-Errant.<br />
<br />
Regardless of whether or not Titus may ever recover his history, he had a new history here.<br />
<br />
===The Case of the Tau Empire===<br />
====Prelude to Something Bigger====<br />
''>CHARON-CLASS ORDO XENOS LISTENING POST IN THE DAMOCLES GULF''<br />
<br />
Adept Cestus rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand, and glanced at the chronometer on the wall. Only twenty minutes left on his shift! A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought of the pretty blonde who served at the small station's cramped refectory. Maybe he would ask her to supper when her shift ended...<br />
A squawk of xenos gibberish through his earpiece made him wince, snapping him back to reality. He groaned as the Tau language rattled around his head, the xenos communications had been growing more and more strange lately, the usual clipped tones becoming more and more guttural. <br><br />
"Send 300 hundred units to Sa'cea. The warriors there will need the sacrifices to the Blood God."<br><br />
Cestus froze. His hand hovered over the panic button on his console, and then he pressed the "record" rune. The Tau voice continued speaking.<br><br />
"These sacrifices will swell the warhost. Tomorrow, the Ethereals will lead the sacrifices of the Factionalists. Praise the Ethereals, and Praise the Dark Gods!"<br> <br />
Cestus tore off his headset and punched the panic button.<br><br />
<br />
Inquisitor Trajan of the Ordo Xenos ducked under a somewhat ostentatious idol to the machine god and stepped into the cramped strategum. The man studying the holo-tank's projection saw him and waved him over:<br />
"Ah, Inquisitor, I'm glad to see-"<br />
"You may dispense with the pleasantries Captain. What do you want?"<br />
The Inquisitor's respirator hissed meaningfully as he glared at the station's captain. The captain swallowed, and gestured at the display in front of him.<br />
"Our adepts have been intercepting Tau service announcements and communicates. What they have discovered is worrying to say the least. He pressed a key, and the message recorded by Adept Cestus a day earlier echoed out of the holo-tank's speakers. As the message played, the captain glanced at the Inquisitor's face. It may have just been the dim light cast by the projection, but the inquisitor looked like he was turning white. When it finished, Trajan moved past the captain and began to press keys on the holo-tank.<br />
"Are these messages coming from all the Tau worlds?"<br />
The Captain nodded and reached past the Inquisitor to press a rune.<br />
"Yes my lord, except from the so-called Farsight Enclaves, only two Tau worlds are broadcasting communications similar to the old ones. He pointed at the display, <br />
"Of these two, one has been almost completely overrun by the corrupted Tau, and the other is under siege. It appears to be trying to evacuate its population to the Farsight Enclaves."<br />
"You said the Enclaves were still broadcasting normally."<br />
The Captain made a face,<br />
"Not exactly, my lord. Not a single communication, corrupt or otherwise has come from the Enclaves for months."<br />
The Inquisitor's respirator wheezed.<br />
"I need to take this to the Ordo." He turned to the captain. <br />
"I must depart as quickly as possible, tell me, what was the last ship that you detected heading for the Enclaves?"<br />
"An Imperial ship, sir. It was tagged with the Inquisitorial seal, so we didn't repor-"<br />
"How long ago was this?"<br />
<br />
"This morning milord. We assumed that it was one of your ships."<br />
The Inquisitor turned away and made for the door.<br />
"Tell your men to keep their ears open. I will need my ship ready to fly as soon as possible."<br />
<br />
====The Fate of O'Kais====<br />
The bones in Kais' hand creaked as O'Shaserra squeezed it. He grit his teeth and glanced at the lifesign monitor affixed to the plaster wall. Both the vital signs of his wife and soon-to-be-born son were strong, but a miscarriage wasn't what frightened Kais. Shadowsun roared as another contraction hit her, and a loud rumble from above seemed to answer. Kais leaned forwards over his wife and the surgeons attending to her, feeling dust and grit cascade onto his back as the ceiling shook. He wiped some of the sweat from his wife's face, her eyes blazed at him, as though this was his fault. I suppose- he thought distantly- it was. In a way. The sound of pulse fire from the doorway distracted him, and he looked around. The Shas'nel guarding the doorway was sending pulse rifle shots down the corridor. Kais heard unearthly screeches echo back, in between shots. He glanced at the pulse pistol lying on a steel tray, next to cobalt stained surgical tools. Another growl from Shadowsun brought his attention back to her. As far as he could tell, the labour was close to completion. As if on cue, one of the surgeons spoke up, trying to make himself heard over the sound of the battle outside. <br />
<br />
"Commander Shadowsun! You need to push NOW!" <br />
<br />
O'Shaserra let out a scream that nearly drowned out the sound of an Orca crashing outside. Kais screamed as well, feeling the bones in his hand come to the very edge of snapping as O'Shaserra crushed it with all her strength. <br />
Abruptly, the scream cut off, and O'Shaserra gasped, releasing Kais' mangled hand. Kais heard the shot that felled the doorway guard, and snatched up the pulse pistol just in time to put a shot through the helmet of the Fire Warrior at the door. As the blood-smeared warrior fell back, he threw off his comrade's shot, giving Kais enough time to lunge across the room and tackle him.<br />
<br />
Pinning the warrior down with his legs, Kais ripped the warrior's helmet off and gripped him around the throat. The warrior leered up at Kais, several of the hideous scars on his face still wet with blood. The corrupted warrior bucked his hips, nearly throwing Kais off. Kais punched him in the face, hard enough that it slammed the warrior's head into the rockerete floor with a CRACK. Kais refastened his hands around the warrior's throat and squeezed with all his might. The warrior gurgled, blue blood oozing out of his mouth. Kais bared his teeth, the roar filling his head, calling for him to spill blood, to take skulls, blood for the blood go-<br />
<br />
CRUNCH<br />
<br />
The warrior's windpipe collapsed under the weight of Kais rage. The Tau convulsed and vomited a cobalt gout into Kais face. The silence that followed was broken by the sound of an infant crying. The red mist lifted from Kais' mind and he stood up stiffly, blinking cobalt out his eyes. He turned to see the surgeons helping O'Shaserra into a mobility mech. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he saw another of the surgeons holding a squalling bundle in their arms. <br />
A shout from one of them snapped him out of his trance:<br />
<br />
"SHAS'O! THE TRANSPORT WILL NOT WAIT FOR US!"<br />
<br />
Kais waved an arm at the group,<br />
"GO!" He glanced at the shape crouched in the corner of the room. <br />
"I'll get you time."<br />
<br />
Kais wiped some of the blood off his face as the group hustled out of the door. At the threshold, O'Shaserra looked back. Kais smiled gently, and nodded to her. Another explosion, louder this time, rattled Kais' teeth as he watched his wife and son pass through the door. Part of him realised that he wouldn't see them again. He turned, and strode to the dust-covered shape in the corner of the bunker. He could still make out the kill markings he had carved into the iridium armour on Kronus, all those years ago.<br />
<br />
He touched a key on his wrist computer. Blue lights flickered across the form, and the battlesuit stood up, dust cascading off it's armour. It's chest cavity popped open, bathing Kais in blue light. He turned and stepped in, standing up inside the armour. His head fit into the helmet of the battlesuit, and eyes were flooded with telemetry data. He felt the chest close up, sealing him inside. He worked his hands into the gloves, flexing the armoured fingers. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the missile pods clack into position. Another green light flickered up on his HUD, and he heard the two drones disengage from their charging socket across the room. The gun drone floated high at his right shoulder sensors trained on the door, whilst a faint flicker around him heralded the shield drone hovering low at his left shoulder. Kais reached down and picked up the heavy flamer in his left hand, feeling it lock to the elbow of the armour. He did the same with his fusion blaster, the weapon thrumming faintly at his touch. He looked towards the door, turning up the sensitivity of his visor. There was a squad of pathfinders stacking up outside. Kais outline wavered for a second, then he and his adjutant drones vanished from sight.<br />
<br />
CLOAK ENGAGED<br />
<br />
The door blew open in a shower of sparks, and the pathfinders streamed inside. They snarled in their bastardised version of Kais' language.<br />
"Kais and his whore must have already gone." Several of them dashed to the other door, the one that O'Shaserra had gone through. One of the others took notice of the bloody operating table, and, (Kais noted with a muted sense of revulsion) the bucket containing what had been left from the delivery. The Pathfinder peered into the bucket and turned to his comrades. He called something that Kais didn't understand, and the others laughed. He completely failed to notice Kais stepping behind him. Kais tightened his grip on his weapons, and then kicked the Pathfinder as hard as he could.<br />
<br />
The corrupted Pathfinder flew across the room and smashed into the wall, leaving a stain as though a blueberry had been smashed against it. The other wheeled around, just in time to expose themselves to the enormous jet of flame from Kais' flamer. They clawed at themselves, flailing in all directions as they burned. Kais brushed past them, ducking under the doorway as he stepped out the way they had come, into the open air. The sky was choked with ash, and fire. What little of the loyalist forces that remained were now in full retreat, breaking beneath the onslaught of their corrupted brethren. The few Barracudas that could still fly were desperately trying to keep the enemy fighters off the various dropships and cargo freighters that were evacuating the last of the population. A warning tone from his shield drone brought Kais attention to a sniper drone attempting to line up a shot. A squeeze of the fusion blaster's trigger smashed it into pieces. His visor highlighted a pair of crisis suits flying towards him, before assigning each a targeting reticule. A double thump from the rocket pods heralded the launch of a pair of missiles that curled through the air and smacked the Battlesuits out of the sky. One exploded before it hit the ground, the other corkscrewed towards Kais and crashed into the dirt. It weakly tried to raise a weapon-limb, before a shot from the fusion lance carved through the pilot. <br />
A barrage of shots hit Kais in the back, enough making it through the shield to stagger him. He swiveled on one foot, and, seeing the squad of Fire Warriors that had shot him, turned the Shas'ui into pulp with a shot from the fusion blaster. A jetpack enhanced leap brought him close enough to the squad that his flamer turned half of them into walking pyres in an instant. The rest charged him, and Kais boosted up into the air as they closed in. He cut the thrust and landed on one with a satisfying CRUNCH.<br />
<br />
The others crowded in, beating on Kais with the butts of their rifles. The roar echoed through Kais' mind, as though it had never left. He smashed the fusion blaster down on one of the Shas'la, blue blood splashing his armour. <br />
<br />
BLOOD<br />
<br />
He dropped the flamer and grabbed a helmetless warrior by the head. Servos in his gauntlet squealed for a second, then the Fire warrior's head imploded under Kais' grip.<br />
<br />
SKULLS <br />
<br />
The last Shas'la turned to run, but was cut down by a burst of pulse fire from the gun drone. <br />
Behind him, he heard the sound of a dropship taking off. He turned to see the Orca he knew was carrying his wife and son. Images stormed through his mind, of blasting the ship out of the sky, of bathing in the blood of a thousand innocents. Kais thought of his wife's eyes as he had watched her leave. He thought of the tiny face he had glimpsed peering at him out of a bundle of rags. The roar receded, for now. As he watched the Orca climb into the sky, he saw something fall past it, and land about a hundred metres away from him. A huge plume of ash covered what it was, but there was no mistaking the missile that burst from the cloud and beelined for the Orca. Kais watched the missile's flight, and raised his fusion blaster. Only enough time for one shot... <br />
A blue lance smote the missile from the air. Kais lowered the blaster, feeling his heart palpitate as he watched the Orca lift through the ash clouds, and out of sight. He turned to see the dust cloud settle, revealing a massive Riptide battlesuit, its hull adorned with carvings and sigils that Kais almost recognised from a long time ago. The roar howled in his mind, demanding blood and skulls. The corrupted battlesuit towered over Kais, casting him in shadow.<br />
<br />
Kais calmly reached down and picked up his flamer, before snapping off a shot, blowing the Riptide's shield drone into pieces. The Riptide's answer blasted Kais off his feet, and sent both his drones spinning away, damaged beyond use. Kais picked himself up, studying the Riptide's weapons. An ion accelerator, a pair of plasma rifles, and the smart missile system. Kais blasted off again, punching the battlesuit's shields with his fusion blaster as he soared into the air. What he saw disheartened him, it would take a massive barrage to break through the shield, one bigger than what his stealthsuit could mount. He landed behind the Riptide, and sent a jet of flame at its back. The shield dappled and wobbled, but retained cohesion. The Riptide swiveled at the waist, and Kais dived for cover as a blast from the Plasma rifles leapt out at him. He landed on his feet and let loose a trio of missiles that exploded harmlessly on the Riptide's shields. The roar's impotent fury made Kais ears ring, and he pounded the shield with his fusion blaster. The shots that hit where the missiles had struck caused the shield to light up, brighter than before. Kais realised what he had to do. Once again, the roar had shown him the path. He disengaged the safety protocols on his battlesuit's weapons. Immediately, the fusion reactor began to bleep warnings at him, blue symbols demonstrating an imminent meltdown. Kais set his feet, digging his heels into the ash and lining up every single of his targeters on the same spot of the Riptide. He noticed the barrel of the the Ion accelerator pointing straight at him. The roar threatened to burst his head<br />
<br />
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD<br />
<br />
"Yes"<br />
<br />
He fired.<br />
<br />
When the light and sound had faded, Kais saw the Riptide reeling back, sparks jetting from its mangled shield generator. Kais leapt forwards, the world slowing to a crawl, every iota of his being focussed on his enemy. One shot left in his Fusion Blaster. His visor saw the fantastic amount of heat coming from the Riptide's Nova Reactor. He lined up his last shot. For a moment, he remembered O'Shaserra's face when he had asked her to be his wife. He focussed on that, shutting out the battle, shutting out the roar. His wife gave him the strength to pull the trigger.<br />
<br />
<br />
Kais gasped. His lungs were on fire. His whole body was on fire. He looked into a sky choked with ash. He coughed up blood. His skin was charred and blistered. At some point, his helmet had come off. There was no sound except the wind and the melted rock cooling around him. The roar went on, echoing through his head, as though it were trying to burst out of him. Kais heard a footstep in the ash. A strange voice tutted.<br />
<br />
"Oh dear. What a mess you've made of everything."<br><br />
<br />
A horrifying bird's head loomed into Kais' fading vision.<br> <br />
"You pitiful, dull, little, creature."<br><br />
<br />
Kais spat blood into its face.<br><br />
"G-go to hell... Monster."<br><br />
<br />
The creature snarled, then spoke again.<br> <br />
"You have disrupted my plans too many times for it to still be funny, puppet of the blood god."<br />
<br />
Kais gasped the roar inside his head answered.<br><br />
"For this, and for the blood god's annoying persistence, you shall suffer the consequences."<br><br />
Then it spoke in a voice like a razor blade sliding down Kais' eyeball.<br><br />
"Your mind will fade. Your body will become dust. But you will Never. Ever. Die."<br><br />
Then it touched Kais' chest. And all of him became nothing at all.<br><br />
<br />
Upon a desolate battlefield lay a white battlesuit. It's surface bore no blemishes, and it's weapons lay besides it in the ash. After a long, long, time, Kais rolled to his feet. He wasn't breathing. He couldn't feel his heart beating. He couldn't feel himself against the inside of the armour. Gripped by sudden panic, he seized on of his gauntlets in one hand and tried to pull it off. It didn't move an inch. He pulled with all his might. Nothing. He was trapped inside his armour, unable to move, unable to breathe. He tried to hyperventilate, he couldn't feel his lungs drawing in air. He didn't feel a need to breathe. He took a step. The leg moved, but he did not feel his leg pressing against the inside of the armour. He thought of moving his leg, and his leg moved. <br />
<br />
"Am I cursed?" His voice came through the suit's external speakers, and he heard it as though it was coming through the suit. His vision was overlaid with the view from his visor, but he felt no need to blink. He could just stare, taking in the ruined landscape as no other living creature could. So he did. He stared at the desolation that surrounded him, wondering what he was going to do next. <br />
<br />
Kais struggled across the ashen wastes. Every two or three stumbling steps, he would fall, and have to coax his arms into pushing him back up. Unable to feel if his feet were touching the ground, Kais' vision was fixed on his armour's boots, trying to maintain his balance. His Plasma Rifle and Heavy Flamer were strapped to his back, the added weight not doing his balance any favours, but he was not leaving his weapons behind, not when he was in such a vulnerable state. He crested a ridge, pieces of obsidian crunching beneath his feet. Beyond him, sat a seemingly functional Manta dropship, much of it's hull covered by the ash that still fell from the skies. The rear hatch was closed, but thanks to Kais' still functioning command codes, it was trivial to enter. One of the aerials on Kais' helmet scraped against the roof, making him jump as the grinding sound echoed inside his helmet. The flat deckplate made walking somewhat easier, but even then, Kais nearly tripped at least twice. He squeezed his armoured bulk into the cockpit, from what he could tell, the dropship had been abandoned in a hurry, half the systems were still running. Luckily for Kais, the armoured fingers of his XV25 were dextrous enough that he could grasp the controls with ease. He hovered his hand over the controls for the engines, then carefully pressed the touch screen. The light touch left a smear of black ash on the console, but the microphones in his helmet picked up the sound of the engines lighting. Carefully as possible, Kais eased the craft out from under it's blanket of ash, and into the sky.<br />
<br />
As the manta left the planet's ruined atmosphere, Kais glanced out of the viewport. Burned out ships, and fragments of ships glittered in the sunlight. Judging by the amount of debris, it would be a long time before any orbital installations could be set up. That was not Kais's concern. What drew his attention was the Explorer Class that was orbiting at the edge of the debris field, protected by its deflector shields. Its hangar bays were open, and Kais guided the Manta in. As soon as the instruments registered a hard contact with the docking cradle, Kais left the cockpit. The Explorer classes were so old, most of their systems were AI controlled. Hopefully, he might be able to leave the system with it.<br />
<br />
Kais strode the empty halls of the ship, senses alert for the slightest sound. He had not found any traces of another living being, not so much as a bloodstain. He passed a mess hall, and glanced through the doorway. There were several half-eaten meals sitting on a table, the infrared vision mode of his visor showed that a bowl of soup was still reasonably warm. Kais carefully reached back and unhooked his heavy flamer, igniting the pilot lights with a flick of a switch. He turned the sensitivity of his visor up as far as it would go, and was struck by a feeling of vertigo as the deckplate beneath him was rendered transparent. He looked around, vision penetrating through dozens of decks. Nothing. Not even shipboard pests. For a second, Kais seriously considered returning to the Manta and seeking out another functioning ship. He shook the thought away, even if he found another ship, the chances of it still functioning were slim at best. Returning his vision to its normal settings, Kais continued, heading for the bridge. Rounding a corner, he spotted a turbolift. He jabbed the call button and was rewarded by a crunching sound as the button cracked. The doors opened before him, and he awkwardly worked himself into the interior. The extra height from his armour meant that he was forced to stoop to prevent the aerials on his helmet from scraping the roof. He pressed the key for the bridge, more carefully this time, and was rewarded by the lift shuddering beneath him. After a thankfully short time, the lift came to a halt and the doors slid open. Kais had expected some kind of reveal here, perhaps the bridge would be a blood-soaked abattoir, or a shrieking monster would leap for him. The bridge was empty, just like the rest of the ship. Somehow, that was worse. Kais worked his way around the bridge stations, stowing his flamer and searching for the helm controls.<br />
<br />
Kais carefully tapped commands into the control panel, shifting uncomfortably in the tiny seat. All the systems seemed to be working correctly, including the weapons and shields. Hopefully, he would never have to use them, but considering how his luck had been going, he decided to keep an eye on them anyway. He pulled up the map screen, and punched in the coordinates for the Enclave world of Salas'hei, the world that they had been evacuating for. Hopefully, Shadowsun should be there. Kais pressed the key that would engage the FTL drive. He was committed now. Nothing would stop him reaching his wife and son.<br />
<br />
====Farsight====<br />
A thunderous sound clapped over the battlefield.<br />
6 golliaths with single glowing eyes had descended from the sky, kicking up ash and dust from the ground, it shocked many of the corrupt followers of the Greater Good.<br />
<br />
"Fusion Blades on-line."<br />
<br />
"Onager Gauntlet on-line."<br />
<br />
"Airbursting Fragmentation Launcher on-line"<br />
<br />
"Flamers, ready to burn!"<br />
<br />
"Retro-thrusters, on-line."<br />
<br />
"...Dawn Blade...always on-line."<br />
<br />
And with a slash of a massive blade, the Six titans were revealed, Five Crisis suit, flanking a sixth, blade in hand...O'Shovah and his bodyguard had arrived on the battlefield.<br />
"Assist the evacuation, keep sharp."<br />
<br />
"For the Enclave O'Shovah."<br />
<br />
"No."<br />
The larger battlesuit turned to O'Shovah, O'Arra'Kon was confused.<br />
"For the Greater Good."<br />
<br />
Chaos forces kept coming, the five body guards held their line, fire reigned supreme as torchstar had opened up on their once brethren, torching the mad Tau, getting them out of their hiding spots, in the meanwhile, Farsight had been listening to the communications, they were trying to evacuate someone important...<br />
<br />
"Bzzt Comma- BZZZT -owSun ca- ZZZZT -ove her, sh- BZZZZZZZZZT -born child, she's BZZZT healing centre Ar, need rein- BZZZT!"<br />
Tracking the signal was no easy feat for the suits systems, but he found it, not too far from his position.<br />
<br />
"I shall be back Arra'kon, maintain position, keep the ships face."<br />
The Tau Commander blasted off before Arra'kon could protest, he sailed through the sky, ash passing over his optics, he did notice something however, the large blue ball of devastation as a Riptide exploded, was it their own? he hadn't a clue, he noticed a white suit, damaged, he ignored it for now, whatever happened, it would've indeed been a could battle.<br />
He turned his attention to his objective could see the healing centre.<br />
he began his descent, he saw the evac team holed up not far from it, taking heavy fire from the corrupt forces.<br />
A devilfish was over turned with a lot of wounded, some soldiers, some civilians.<br />
<br />
Shadowsun was not having a good day.<br />
<br />
She was lying behind an overturned devilfish, just haven given birth of all things, bleeding, in pain, the remnants of drugs in her system hardly able contain the pain she felt from her virtue.<br />
But she still had him, her child, her beloved child, she held him close he wailed and wailed, but she cooed to the child, what a way to come into the world, born into war.<br />
<br />
The fire team around her fired towards the healing centre the corrupted took cover in, sometimes sending a wave of mad kroot towards them.<br />
But she held onto him, her precious little one.<br />
"Be quiet little one, we will be away from this soon, be quiet."<br />
That's when HE arrived, very noisily, as always!<br />
The crimson red suit crashed on the opposite side of the devilfish, plasma rifle blazing.<br />
Soldiers were in awe, all didn't seem to be lost, but some were confused.<br />
<br />
"Is that O'Shovah?!"<br />
<br />
Her eyes shot open, away from her little one, O'Shovah?!<br />
She grabbed the dirt with her free hand, with her legs useless, she gritted her teeth, dragging her useless legs and her little one, she pulled herself from behind the cover of the Devilfish to witness this...it was true, it was O'Shovah...her face flashed to anger, how DARE HE!<br />
How dare he show his face here! as if it wasn't enough, he had DARED to steal glory from the Tau Empire and he DARED! prance about in that suit he stole!<br />
For all she cared he could swing that sword of his in his naked bare hands!<br />
She glared at the suit, knowing it was the only thing between them and getting off this planet.<br />
All seemed to quiet after he barked orders of concentrated fire, then cut through swaths of kroot, shooting down vespid.<br />
He turned to the forces he was leading, then his optics turned and focused...on her.<br />
A chill settled in her gut as he stomped over to her...which was replaced by the feeling of fire and rage.<br />
He dared.<br />
<br />
O'Shovah observed his ally, turned enemy, another student of Puretide, here, dragging herself along the ground and...was that, a child?<br />
Lights went up in his head.<br />
<br />
She had given birth.<br />
<br />
Farsight pitied the fool un-wise enough to make Shadowsun with child.<br />
He opened his suit, looking down at Shadowsun sternly.<br />
"Hello O'Shaserra."<br />
<br />
Shadowsun spat in his direction.<br />
"Die O'Shovah, you rat."<br />
<br />
Farsight smirked some at that comment.<br />
"You seem to be in a bad way."<br />
<br />
"No worse then when I shall rip your head from your shoulders."<br />
<br />
He chuckled at her threats, he had missed this banter.<br />
"But you see O'Shaseera, I am up here...and you are down there, with child, who was the unlucky one?"<br />
<br />
"Die, I have nothing more to say to you."<br />
Her eyes looked up in defiance to him.<br />
He shrugged off the comment as fire lit up his shield, the troops returning fire, he merely gestured his plasma rifle toward the windows, opening up more fire, as the windows soon turned into holes, his comms crackled to life.<br />
"O'Shovah this is O'Arra'kon, the ships are leaving, we need to go."<br />
<br />
Farsight eyes widened, he looked around, there were no evac team in sight to assist him in moving the troops, nor the debilitated Shadowsun, there wasn't enough room in the suit for her either...<br />
a tough decision had to be made, fast, then his eyes looked down to the small bundle she held onto for her dear life.<br />
"...O'Shaserra, give me the child."<br />
<br />
Her eyes widened.<br />
Give him what?<br />
Her eyes widened in surprise, in anger and most of all, in fear.<br />
Be separated from her child?<br />
HER child?<br />
No, she couldn't she wouldn't even if it were anyone else she would have doubts, second thoughts, with him...the traitor of the Tau Empire, a betrayer to the greater good and all its ideals!<br />
He thought she couldn't protect her child?<br />
<br />
"The ships are leaving O'Shaserra and I can't get you to safety."<br />
Synapses fired off in her head, the pain seemed to fade as she went cold.<br />
No, never, not she couldn't think it.<br />
But...<br />
If he could get her little one to safety.<br />
No, she would rather die...but, should he?<br />
Where was O'Kais? where was he?!<br />
<br />
"I can see if we can get a second wave, but right now we need to get as many as we can to safety, children included."<br />
Her tactile side of her mind told her to do it, the cold, thinking part of her brain, said to her that at least her child would live on.<br />
Her emotional side of her brain was crying out to never, ever think about it, that she could never trust anyone with the child, that she could never trust HIM with the child.<br />
<br />
"O'Shaserra...please...I promise you with my life that no harm will come to the child, not a scratch...I know that I'm a "traitor", but I would not be here if I did not care about the Empire, that includes you and that child!"<br />
<br />
She could feel his voice shake her to her core, even from distance away it had force.<br />
...she held out her child.<br />
"Take him, take him and get him to safety."<br />
Her voice, almost a whisper, so soft, so quiet like she didn't want it to escape her throat.<br />
Her whole being shook, telling her it was wrong, her heart had sank so deep, but her mind, her genius mind told her, she had to.<br />
She felt something slide down her face...tears? was she, crying?<br />
She didn't want to be seen crying in front of him, not just because he was an enemy, he was a rival, someone she had to be as strong as, she had to scrape up what little resolve she had.<br />
"Take him, that is an Order, O'Shovah!"<br />
<br />
He nooded Solemnly, his battle suit knelt as to let him out, quickly his boots hit the ground.<br />
He strode over to his former ally, taking the small bundle infront of him from her, the boy had immediately started wailing.<br />
"Do you have him?"<br />
<br />
Her strong eyes looked up and locked with his, he could feel the intensity of her gaze.<br />
"Yes."<br />
<br />
"Say the words."<br />
Her voice was demanding and strong, even now, crawling in the dirt, in pain, she commanded some authority that made him get the chills.<br />
<br />
"I have him."<br />
<br />
He responded reassuringly, she let go of the boy, he hold the little one firmly in his grasp.<br />
"Now run, run far, far away! It is what you are good at."<br />
There was a moment, despite all the history between them, despite eachother being enemies, despite this being a warzone, they shared a moment, a smile, as small as it is, almost a jeering among peers...yes, that was exactly what it was.<br />
<br />
"I'll be back for you."<br />
He felt fire light up, deep inside of his belly, a willingness, a drive.<br />
<br />
"Not before you get him out first, now go! I can hold these bastards off."<br />
Very shakily, the Tau Commander rose to her feet, how she could lift herself, he couldn't fathom, he could only hope that he could muster the strength she could in that situation...she looked at her child, stroking it's blue head<br />
"Good bye, little one."<br />
<br />
She stumbled to the men, barking orders in a firm tone, even though they told her she should NOT be standing, never mind fighting, she smacked the Shas'ui and told him to get her a stimulant and a rifle.<br />
Farsight climbed into his suit.<br />
<br />
"O'Shovah, O'Shovah, are you there!?"<br />
"I am en-route, do not worry."<br />
He adjusted himself in the suit and made sure the boy was secure, he closed the hatch...as it closed he looked toward his rival, her at him.<br />
"I'll be back."<br />
<br />
He declared in a strong voice...<br />
"No...you won't"<br />
She whispered to the wind before she returned to her troops.<br />
He took off away, heading towards the evacuation ships, the boy wailing the whole way.<br />
<br />
====The Corruption of T'au====<br />
''T'AU''<br />
<br />
Aun'ra, Supreme Ethereal and Master of the Tau pushed past his honour guard and sighted the one he had come here to see. Kor Phaeron, Keeper of the Faith and Emissary to the Mon'Tau. The Tau bowed to the towering Word Bearer, and felt the Emissary touch him on the shoulder. <br />
"Rise, Ethereal. We are all equal upon the eightfold path."<br />
<br />
Aun'ra nodded and motioned for the Word Bearer to follow him. <br />
"We have been following the Instructions in the Book of Lorgar, and we believe that we are ready for the final invocation."<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron smiled,<br />
"It sounds as though you don't need me, then."<br />
<br />
The Ethereal looked back nervously,<br />
"We, ah, thought it would be best for you to make the final invocation. Afterall, you have more experience with this kind of thing than any of us."<br />
<br />
The Word Bearer agreed, and they stepped into a wide chamber, what had been the throne room of the Empire. At the centre was the focus of the final invocation. <br />
Aun'va. The former Supreme Ethereal and master of the Undying Spirit was wrapped in barbed chains that sprouted from the ground and held him in place in the centre of the room. His eyes locked on Aun'ra and the Emissary. Aun'ra sneered:<br />
"Weak fool, the Gods have shown us power that you could never have imagined."<br />
<br />
Despite the chain holding his jaw shut, Aun'va spoke:<br />
"This is not power. This is madness. You have doomed the Tau."<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron laughed, the cruel sound echoing through the chamber. Aun'va's glare fixed on the Dark Cardinal.<br />
"And you. You are a slave to powers you think you control, and your time is coming."<br />
<br />
Phaeron's smile faded. He reached down to his belt, and drew a blade. It was so small it seemed almost comical in the Word Bearer's massive gauntlet, but all present knew that the Athame was so much more than just that.<br />
Aun'va glanced at it then looked back at the Word Bearer.<br />
"Silencing me won't change anything. You are dead men walking. All of you."<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron sank the blade into Aun'va's torso.<br />
The Final Invocation had begun.<br />
<br />
''THE FARSIGHT ENCLAVES''<br />
<br />
Like a cauldron brought to the boil, the warp around the Enclaves began to froth and churn. Psykers across the galaxy felt it. The space around the enclaves began to stretch and distort as reality was brought to the breaking point. Then it broke.<br />
<br />
O'Kais jumped as his ship began an emergency return to realspace, alarms screaming. In the Imperial Palace, Magnus the Red clutched his head, feeling as though nails were being shot into it. The Emperor stiffened as blood began to run out of his nose and ears, feeling reality itself being torn asunder. For a moment, a single warpstorm, bigger than anything the Tau had ever seen engulfed the Farsight Enclaves. <br />
<br />
Then it was gone. So were the Enclaves. <br />
<br />
Kais stared at his consoles, unable to believe what he was seeing. The Emperor staggered, barely able to think, whilst Magnus collapsed with a crash. On T'au, Kor Phaeron smiled. If everything were this easy, he would have the Emperor's soul in no time at all.<br />
<br />
Aboard his ship, Kais was frantically searching the communication channels for anything that would tell him what was going on. At last, he tuned in to a wideband transmission that was being bounced off every relay beacon from here to the Zone of Silence.<br />
<br />
"REJOICE BRETHREN, FOR THE GODS HAVE SMOTEN THE UNBELIEVERS! THE EMISSARY'S WORDS WERE TRUE, CHAOS IS THE TRUE PATH! THE EMISSARY WILL BE REMAINING ON T'AU, SO THAT ALL MAY HEAR THE WORD OF CHA-"<br />
<br />
Kais cut the frequency, and reached over to the navigation console again. With but a gesture, he changed the ship's destination to T'au. As the ship began to turn, and line itself up with the capital, Kais began to form a plan in his mind. He was going to find this Emissary. And he was going to make him return the Enclaves, or he would find himself meeting his gods a lot sooner than he intended.<br />
<br />
====Suicide Mission====<br />
<br />
''T'AU SPHERE OF INFLUENCE''<br />
<br />
The space-traffic control teams that kept watch over T'au were stretched to breaking point by the massive influx of Tau that were making pilgrimage to the Homeworld, in order to hear the Emissary speak. They were, however, surprised to see an Explorer class battleship revert to realspace at the edge of the planet's sphere of influence. The battleship increased velocity, heading for the planet. Many of the controllers shrugged it off, assuming that the crew were on leave and wanted to hear the Emissary, like many other elements of the Kor'vattra that had arrived at Tau in the past few days. Few among them noticed the ship did not transmit any messages to the orbitals, and instead continued to accelerate towards the planet. At last, one of the weary members of the air caste keyed his microphone:<br />
<br />
"Explorer, you are exceeding the speed limit for disembarking craft, reduce speed, or suffer the consequences, how copy, over?"<br />
<br />
Silence. The controller frowned,<br />
"If you do not reduce speed, you will be fired upon."<br />
<br />
Still nothing. The controller keyed up one of the Lar'shi classes that was guarding the orbitals.<br />
"Send a warning shot across the bow of that explorer." He watched the blue streak shoot from the nose of the Lar'shi and cross the void to narrowly miss the hull of the Explorer. He wasn't expecting what happened next: three railgun shots burst from the nose of the explorer and struck the Lar'shi amidships. There was an eye-searing flash as the ship's reactor went supercritical.<br />
<br />
As the controllers frantically scrambled to contact the other battleships guarding the planet, the Explorer accelerated even further, shooting past the furthest orbital. The defence orbitals and battleships began to fire, railgun and ion cannon shots splashing off the Explorer's shields as it bore onwards. The Explorer was firing back, swatting the defence ships out of its way with barrages of railgun fire. A Lar'shi was too slow at getting out of the way, and smashed off the battleship's flank, exploding in pieces. The explorer's shields failed, exposing its hull to the fire of the defence forces. Railgun shots tore gaping chunks out of it, but still it forged onwards, ramming ships out of its way with an increasingly mangled prow. The defence forces were hitting each other in their struggle to halt the battleship, which was, by now, little more than a mangled lump of metal shooting towards T'au at incredible speeds. Already, flames were licking at its edges as it hit the atmosphere. A long plume of disintegrating material trailed behind it as it screamed through the planet's atmosphere. Its sole occupant clung to the controls as the ship disintegrated around him, G-forces that would liquefy normal men proving harmless to a being with no body. The ship trembled as it the atmosphere tore it to pieces, but Kais gaze was fixed on his target: the Chamber of the Ethereals. He could see the massive crowd that had gathered to hear the Emissary speak. The roar in his head gloried at the thought of so much blood being spilt, but Kais hauled on the controls, dragging the nose up. A particularly large tremor rocked the ship as it plowed through a building, the ground racing up towards it. Kais unstrapped himself from his seat and stood up, the deck shaking and trembling beneath him. There was a massive lurch as the ship struck the ground, ploughing through the road and crowd alike, smashing buildings and defences aside.<br />
<br />
Kais leaned back, bringing his plasma rifle up. A single pulse smashed open the viewscreen, opening the bridge to the air and letting in the sound of screams and grinding metal. He saw, standing at a podium a tall figure in crimson armour. Kor Phaeron stared at the tide of glowing metal that was screaming towards him, unable to quite believe what he was seeing. The ground shook, and he struggled for balance, catching sight of a figure standing on the very tip of the metal shape. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of the figure's thoughts. <br />
<br />
Space Marines are said to know no fear. <br />
Kor Phaeron was no space marine. <br />
<br />
He turned and ran up the steps, into the building, terrified by what he could sense. He raced into the central chamber, taking in the figure of Aun'va, held at the very edge of death by the foul magiks of the Word Bearer. He was the nexus of the spell keeping the Enclaves submerged in the warp. Kor Phaeron couldn't even begin to imagine how the Tau piloting the battleship had learned this. There was a tremendous BOOM as the battleship plowed through the front of the building, shattering mosaics and statues that had been there for generations. The Dark Cardinal put himself between the advancing battleship and the nexus of the spell. At long last, the battleship ground to a halt, dust cascading from the roof of the building, its construction at the very edge of collapse. Kor Phaeron's grip tightened on his staff, the spiked head crackling with Eldritch power. The dust was whipped into a miniature tornado as the Tau descended from above, his jetpack slowing his descent. The green lenses of the Tau's helmet regarded the cardinal emotionlessly. The Word Bearer spoke first:<br />
"You've come a long way to die, Tau."<br />
<br />
"You are not the first to tell me that, Warp-spawn." replied the Tau, evenly<br />
He tilted his head slightly, looking around the Master of the faith, and at Aun'va.<br />
"Is that what is keeping the Enclaves hidden?"<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron stared at the Tau for a moment, then burst out laughing:<br />
"You mean, you didn't know!? You came all this way, and you didn't know!?"<br />
<br />
O'Kais was unmoved by the word bearer's mirth.<br />
"Now I know, and the purpose of this exchange is over."<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron heard a whisper in the warp, and only just managed to block the plasma rifle shot with his staff. Kais set his feet, and fired a trio of rockets at the cardinal. One missed, exploding in a shower of marble chips at the Word Bearer's feet. The second was swatted out of the air by the spiked end of Kor Phaeron's staff. The third hit the man in the chest, and the explosion hurled him backwards, past the figure of Aun'va. Phaeron landed heavily, but sprang back to his feet, and extended a hand, doombolts springing towards the Tau. To the cardinal's shock, the bolts missed the Tau completely, almost as if they were magnetically repelled from it.<br />
<br />
Kais flinched as the glowing purple bolts shot past him, detonating with flat bangs behind him. His grip tightened on the handle of his plasma gun, and he fired it again. The blast struck Kor Phaeron in the left pauldron, blowing it off, but failing to injure the Word Bearer. The Dark Cardinal grinned, and a bolt of lightning shot from his outstretched hand, striking Kais' knee joint and knocking the Tau over. Kais rolled onto his back, rage thrumming through him at the underhanded tricks of the sorcerer. He took hold of his rage, holding it until his limbs quaked with fury. His plasma rifle trembled as he brought it up, purplish light crackling around the muzzle. Kor Phaeron stared in astonishment, he could feel the power of the warp radiating from this creature, but surely such a thing was impossib- his thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt as the Tau fired.<br />
<br />
A crimson beam lanced from the Tau's weapon and struck the Word Bearer in the chest shattering his chestplate, and sending him head-over heels. His head struck the ground, and for a moment, he thought he was seeing Gulliman ripping out his heart again. Kais regained his feet, paying no heed to the world bearer, lying in an expanding pool of black blood. He focussed on Aun'va, seeing the obsidian dagger sticking out of the Ethereal's chest. Aun'va looked into Kais' helmet, and mouthed the only words he could think of:<br />
"End it." <br />
<br />
Kais nodded, and brought up his plasma rifle. Behind him, Kor Phaeron, struggling to breathe through punctured lungs, saw what the Tau was about to do. He tried to shout, tried to cast a spell... but the ensorceled plasma bolt had severed his spine, and no amount of chaotic power could transcend that. <br />
<br />
Kais fired at Aun'va. The plasma round hit the atheme first, shattering it into pieces. Then it continued to the Ethereal. For a moment, Aun'va lit up, glowing, as the chaotic energies flowing through him backed up. Then he burst into a cloud of dust, and was gone. <br />
<br />
On the other side of the empire, the massive warp storm re-appeared, then faded again. But this time, the stars of the Farsight Enclaves were there, as though they had never left. <br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron felt this, and hissed faintly, before black blood flooded his mouth. Kais turned, and looked at the Word Bearer, weakly coughing up blood. He walked over to the Cardinal and looked down, into the scarred face. He stamped on it, black blood coating his white armour. He stamped again, rage filling him as he stamped again and again, cracking the paving stones with his fury. After a while, Kais realised that he was just pounding shards of bone into the floor, so he stopped. A final breath bubbled out of the word bearer's ruined trachea as the Tau strode away, leaving black footprints on the white marble floor.<br />
<br />
Now, he was going to find his wife. And the dark gods help whomsoever tried to stop him.<br />
<br />
<br />
=Links=<br />
<br />
*Archive of first thread:http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/30718552/<br />
<br />
*Archive of the second thread:http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/30789099/ - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/30789099/<br />
<br />
*Archive of the third thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/30851860/- https://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/30851860/<br />
<br />
*Archive of the fourth thread:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/30894565/<br />
<br />
*Archive of the fifth thread:http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/30958863/ -http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/30958863/<br />
<br />
*6th:https://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31018873/<br />
<br />
*7th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31087598/<br />
<br />
*8th:https://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31140309/<br />
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*9th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31158123/<br />
<br />
*10th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31227459/<br />
<br />
*11th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31309156/<br />
<br />
*12th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31428292/<br />
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*13th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31505557/<br />
<br />
*14th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31588659/<br />
<br />
*1st 15th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31649760/<br />
<br />
*2nd 15th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31662684/<br />
<br />
*16th (If any other interested writerswish, Skype stuff is here): http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31790234<br />
<br />
*17th: https://archive.4plebs.org/tg/thread/31894756/<br />
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*18th (The Inquisitorially sanctioned one):https://archive.4plebs.org/tg/thread/31974143/<br />
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*WIP Rules for the Returning Legions forDeathwatch:http://www.mediafire.com/view/op2jhul1i836bs2/Primarchs_Return_DeathWatch.pdf<br />
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*WIP Character Stats by{{Anonymous|Friendly Anon}}:https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XVSRIbtow7rI9_L9ZBDTWft7YNqEHcvtC8jDLUCDyUI/edit<br />
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*WIP Character Stats by {{Anonymous|CryptekSzerasp}}:https://docs.google.com/document/d/1TE7a9uS0lbckq4zzVRcJGnEdcr-DU5YkHMiH5gRO_sU/edit<br />
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[[Category: Stories/Warhammer 40,000]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Return_of_the_Primarchs&diff=403808Return of the Primarchs2014-05-27T06:00:46Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Fulgrim */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{story}}<br />
Here's a page for the ongoing Return of the [[Primarch|Primarchs]] setting. At the moment, it is a storage place for ideas.<br />
<br />
==The Premise==<br />
What if, in a giant act of [[just as planned]], [[Malal]], [[Cegorach]], and The [[God-Emperor of Mankind]], in concert with all of the other anti-big 4 chaos gods engineered the return of the [[Primarchs]], from a point in time early enough in the crusade that they all don't hate each other, and a few other changes, notably the removal of Angron's Butcher's Nails and the curing of Curze's madness. Oh, and they have at least some part of their legions and support staff, so Mechanicum, remembrancers, all that.<br />
<br />
The result is a setting based on badassery, [[noblebright]], and [[Fist of the North Star|manly tears]].<br />
<br />
==Personae Dramatis==<br />
<br />
===Primarchs===<br />
<br />
====Horus====<br />
Has a bit of a meltdown, runs off to be a [[The Protomen|lone wolf against chaos]] for a while, setting himself some yet to be decided task. Once he completes it, he can forgive himself.<br />
Then he seeks atonement through fighting off the [[Abaddon|enemies of the Empire]], and takes command again as Warmaster. [[Awesome|Leads his reborn Luna Wolves to battle]] on the surface of Mars during siege of Terra. Exercises extreme benevolence towards [[Erebus|Erebus]] by killing him with a simple bolter round to the face instead of [[rape|trying to reason with him]]. He is especially useful to the Imperium in preventive methods against corruption because of his vast knowledge of interrogation and corruption tactics employed by Chaos.<br />
<br />
====Ferrus Manus====<br />
He has a good head on his shoulders. He remonstrates his legion for their obsessive perfectionism, which lets him help Fulgrim.<br />
<br />
====Fulgrim====<br />
Fulgrim freaks out. First he finds out about the Heresy, but its ok, he has his friend Ferrus. Then the two split up to tour the Imperium, Fulgrim ends up at Ultramar and collapses at the feet of Gorillaman's stasis coffin. Then he learns what he did to Magnus. He runs off ala Rossiu, but Magnus comes for him. See the story below, as it is awesome.<br />
<br />
====Magnus====<br />
Gets soul-bound to the Emperor. Also he gets decked out by the Grey Knights, with a holy lance sanctified in the Emperor's blood and gets the 666 Rites of Detestation etched onto his back. He is clad in truesilver armor.<br />
<br />
Possible idea brought up in 2nd thread by a writefaggot: Magnus gathers his legion of 'zards on Terra during the Battle for Terra when the Primarchs try to wrest power away from the High Lords (who for some reason really like their jobs as being masters of fucking everything). This is like far in the "new" storyline. Magnus goes flying into the Warp again while touching his Father's robe and does psychic battle alongside his legion against Daemons tainting the local Warp. After months of deep meditation fueled by his Legion's most powerful and trusted warriors he restores the Emp's body to working order and takes up his position on the Golden Throne so Big Daddy E can sort shit out without the Astronomicon blinking out. Lots of numbers and JUST AS PLANNED as he fights off his corrupted self. There you go, now talk about why this is shit.<br />
<br />
====Russ====<br />
Comes back for the wolftime. More than anything else, he feels guilty for what he did to Magnus-- in fact, the reason he vanished into the warp was to go try to kill Magnus or die trying, as a way of atoning. Now that Magnus is back and badass, will everyone's favourite Space Viking Wolfman be able to face his estranged brother?<br />
<br />
====Lorgar====<br />
Surprisingly ok with things, viewing his earlier failing as a lack of faith on his part. If Magnus is the holy lance in the fight against the Daemonic, Lorgar is his shield bearer, swearing to protect his brothers from the horrors of the Warp.<br />
Lorgar gets pimped out by the Ecclesiarchy, with a shrine to the god emperor built into his new holy armor and bolts for his bolter carved from the bones of saints. Depending on how far we go, he may also have had his bones inscribed with hymns to the emperor, like an emperor loving version of wolverine.<br />
When he finds out how things went down, he promplty crushes [[Kor Phaeron]]'s head, with a 'YOU WERE LIKE A FATHER TO ME' speech.<br />
<br />
====Mortarion====<br />
THE EMPEROR'S UNBREAKABLE SCYTHE!<br />
Though the skies may rain blood and the mountains crumble to dust, the Death Guard will stand fast, advancing inch by inch, their marching cadence the thud of their artillery. Mortarion vows to exterminate Nurgle's influence with the same tenacity that makes their chaos counterparts so damned hard to beat.<br />
<br />
Mortarion would gather his Death Guard and go head-to-head with his double's Legion, enduring the worst that Nurgle's plagues can bring on them, even to the point where many of his Astartes are almost indistinguishable from the enemy they fight, and imprisoning his Daemon Prince self in a stasis-locked casket filled with molten silver, cast into the core of a dark and forgotten planet.<br />
<br />
Casualties are horrendous once the plagues have run their course, but, as always, they return to fight on another battlefield. The Emperors unbreakable scythe, the <s>Deathguard.</s> Dusk Raiders.<br />
<br />
====Jaghatai====<br />
As the other living Primarchs were either brooding or incapacitated, the Khan was busy taking his own slice of the [[Commorragh]] pie. He began taking the role of an Archon of his own Kabal, leading Dark Eldar pirate fleets full of auxiliaries and freed slaves to defend the Imperium when possible, and to kill anything in the way when that cannot be done. <br />
<br />
====Angron====<br />
Basically the Dornian Heresy version of Angron, so he's a super cool zen-berserker.<br />
<br />
====Alpharius====<br />
Starts unveiling his master plan. All of this is pretty much just as planned.<br />
<br />
====Captain Morgan "Ishmael" Ironbeard====<br />
Captain Ramius and Captain Blackbeard, if he were a pirate primarch, who has a mechadendrite beard.<br />
Has this whole herald of judgement aspect about him. Like Blackbeard, he'd put lit candles in his beard to give him an aura of smoke. He'd cover himself in purity seals and have a glow of madness in his eyes.<br />
But yeah, his fleet warps in, and judgment has arrived, the towers and spires burning with warpfire. When he teleports in with his boarding party, the air crackles and smells of sulfur.<br />
He's got his own version of a Tarantino speech.<br />
He lives for the hunt, his ships are his hounds.<br />
He's a half crazed devil of a man, who sails the stars with his fleet. He strikes terror into the hearts of the foes who behold him, and when he does land his legion, it is with the trumpets of doomsday.<br />
And his men love him. They're his comrades on this grand adventure. They're his partners in all this. He'd keep iron discipline, but he doesn't need to, the crew elect their officers, pirate style. He gets along well with Russ, hard drinking and partying, but he has a frantic core to him that Russ lacks. Perhaps it was because of the time out in the void, or perhaps he has seen some darkness that Russ has not, but there's some irresistible force that drives our Captain onwards.<br />
<br />
"Ahoy heretic! Stand to and receive the Emperor's Judgement. <br />
No, belay that! Run! Run for all you're worth! Run until your poxy rump is sore, your feet blistered, and your lungs can take it no more. Let the world swim before your exhausted eyes and the angels and daemons well up from your frenzied, tattered mind.<br />
Run because the Reaper himself comes for you in his ships. <br />
Run because the hounds are baying.<br />
Run because I want a good chase."<br />
<br />
His fleet is the vanguard, out by the Halo Stars where the warp is tricky, and if he pulls an Apocalypse Now, sets himself up as a God. He sees it as giving his men and the systems he restores out in the unholy light of the Ghoul Stars something to inspire them and keep the terror at bay--seamen are always superstitious and the Halo Stars seem like home to endless eldritch Horrors. He sees a bit of religion/mysticism as a way to keep terror at bay, but, like with Lorgar, the Emperor doesn't like that, not one little bit. So he takes a battlefleet out there, but the pirate's main fleet up and vanishes into the Warp. From time to time ships reappear in realspace, their crews horribly mutated. It often falls to Russ to purge them. Rowbroat Gringus gets what the pirate leaves behind, as he's the closest and the best at restoring atheism.<br />
<br />
The story of the Second Legion is a complex one. Designed for void operations, they were insular, spending more time around naval crews and often being drawn from them. Like all mariners, they were given to superstition, though in the Legion Proper, Chaplains kept this down to an acceptable level. Still, the Emperor tried never to deploy the 2nd and the 17th to the same front.<br />
Things only took a turn for the worse when the Admiral-Theocrat of small empire out by the Halo Stars was discovered to be the Primarch of the Second Legion by none other than Lorgar. Raised by House Morgan, a family of Privateer Aristocrats, the primarch had unified the warring houses. Unfortunately for him, this role he had stepped into was traditionally of a sacred as well as temporal nature. In effect, he had become Avatar-king. It is assumed that when he met Lorgar and told him he was called Ishmael, it was this he was referring to, though Ismael was the name he gave to the Emperor and Primarchs.<br />
During his time as theocrat, he'd never been wholly comfortable with the role, preferring to be simply 'The Captain'. Despite this, he was deeply influenced by the atropaic rituals of his home cluster.<br />
<br />
While The Emperor and Morgan got along well, sharing a penchant for showmanship, Moran's tendency to try to appease the Machine Spirits in mass rituals, as well as his rites to frighten away 'warp predators' and 'gremlins' were a constant source of tension, as was Morgan's stubborness. (Perhaps another trait he inhereted from his father.)<br />
<br />
Morgan, taking the name Ironbeard, brought out the wild mariner in his men. ANCIENT MARINER! WE NEED TO HAVE ONE.<br />
<br />
Skipping ahead, Morgan was erased from history as a result of a single warp voyage. Sailing through a particularly fierce storm, several ships in the fleet, including Morgan's own, suffered partial Geller Field collapses.<br />
<br />
Personally fighting with the daemons, Morgan noted that they matched the beasts in the old void tales and that the rituals worked against them. (Stuff like Gargoyles or totems. A lot of things like how Daoist Exorcisms use fireworks to scare off daemons, except in 30k, the daemons weren't scared so much as the fact that the people had faith in it working made it work. The truesilver didn't hurt either.) Emerging from the warp with his ships still aflame with unholy fire and with massive clawmarks in the sides, Morgan sought immediate contact with the Emperor. The Emperor attempted to have them quarantined, most of the marines executed, and Morgan's memory scrubbed, Morgan bolted when he heard the 'You've seen too much.' 'No more shall I be Ishmael, I am Morgan Ironbeard and the Void shall be my home!'<br />
Taking his fleet he made a run straight to the outer rim, vowing to defend Humanity from the things in the deep. Cue Hunt for Morgan Ironbeard, as the all available ships are divirted to go after him.<br />
<br />
But they say that on quiet nights, you can still see the ghostly lights of a crusade era battle fleet, a-running through the Chronos expanse. They say the captains half man and half devil and he's chasing sommat, what none know.<br />
(A little too Cruze, don't you think?)<br />
<br />
(I was hoping that he'd be Kamina where Kruze is Gendo. Gendo sees the world sucks and gives up on everything except his mad plan. Kamina sees the world sucks and makes up a story that makes it awesome anyways.<br />
They're both scary mother fuckers, but the Pirate King has a bit more defiance to him. Kruze is the Reaper, where this guy is the leader of the Wild Hunt.)<br />
<br />
====Taimak, Son of Thunder====<br />
The Emperor's diplomat and beastmaster. The basic gist is that the Big E wasn't always so Xenophobic, was at one point (presumably before the [[Age of Strife]]) willing to work with Xenos (ie, Craftworlders) as long as they obeyed/cooperated him, which, since he's the only guy who can fight chaos head on, makes some sense.<br />
To do this, the big E made Taimak, but when the Primarchlings got swept off, the Son of Thunder ended up being found and raised by Xenos. Oops.<br />
This isn't so bad, but the Xenos in question had chaotic leanings, not that the Primarch knew this. The big E (alongside Horus and Russ, the only Primarchs he found at the time) finds him and then has to figure out how to go about quietly exterminating everyone he loves. Nice... (Which might explain why Emps let Angron's men die--if they were Khorne bait with those nails.) The Chief, bitter over this sudden genocide, decides to name the XI Legion that was assigned to him the Sons of Thunder, harkening back to the [[Thunder Warriors]] big E decided to dump because of reasons.<br />
<br />
The other primarchs around at the time are a bit leery of this weird Xenos-raised guy, chief among them Leman Russ. Thunder's tendency to do things like use Xenos Auxilia (policy and the legion has gene seed issues), have marines ride dragons, and load shells with acid scorpion spiders also rubs them the wrong way, even with Horus, who had tried to defend them as hard as he could. <br />
The Emperor tells them to shove it, and they obey for the time.<br />
When next it is found, the Craftworld is devoid of life and crawling with sinister warp signatures.<br />
<br />
Emps knows this to be the work of Daemons but can't tell anyone. He wants to try again, but he can't tell anyone, so the Primrachs kind of force him to take a more hardline stance against Xenos. He needs them to be onboard with his Nikea decisions anyways.<br />
Stable and willing marines were split among the other Legions, while the Auxilia and any who would not stand down were executed by the Space Wolves.<br />
<br />
Thunder is a badass technical pacifist who punches Klingons into realizing how awesome the Emperor is when there is no option and an excellent diplomat otherwise.<br />
<br />
The Legion is sort of styled like Space Hulk Era Dark Angels, with various sort of xenos auxilia ad technology and nightmarish xenos beasts as mounts.<br />
<br />
=== Imperial Non-Primarchs===<br />
<br />
====Order of the Eternal Icon====<br />
Formed by members of the Order of Our Martyred Lady who considered Lorgar's return as genuine after his return to Monarchia. <br />
They are a Hospitalier Order that has taken pages of faith from the Spehss Mehrens, the least of them believing in the Primarchs as saints above saints. They also have Rhinos, modified by mounting shrines with the bones of saints on them. These shrines work doubly well with Laud Hailers to restore morale.<br />
They are usually stationed in a Desert Shrine World, but they only use it as a pool for applicants. Otherwise, they stay on-fleet.<br />
They are usually ally with the Word Bearers and the Order of the Obsidian Mirror thanks to some arrangements made by a sane Konrad.<br />
<br />
====Woad Dragons====<br />
Pre-Roman celts IN SPACE that descended from the Salamanders. They have an overactive omophagea and like to consume their fallen enemies. They like to paint themselves with woad colored fluorescent paint, use assault bike drawn chariots, and like bagpipes and kilts. They hail from a desert world and are very close to its people. They're on good terms with the Ecclessiarchy because they recognize its usefulness but do not believe in their teaching, instead they believe in the Promethean cult and are very close to their parent chapter.<br />
<br />
====Blood Ravens====<br />
'''Background:''' Gabe is transporting a ruined old Land Raider unearthed by some PDF on a backwater world known as 1546 back to the Omnis Arcanum on the express orders of Chapter Master Azariah Kyras, when the Old Inquisitor's message is received by the astropaths on board the Litany of Fury. For sake of chronology, [[Dawn of War]] I and II didn't happen.<br />
<br />
'''Part I'''<br />
<br />
“Let all who are loyal to the Emperor, rush to defend Holy Terra from invasion!”<br />
<br />
That was the message relayed by the astropaths to the crew of the Litany of Fury, along with the detachment of Blood Ravens Space Marines on board. Three companies, comprising the 3rd, 4th, and 6th Companies of the Blood Ravens Chapter were present, with Gabriel Angelos, 3rd Company captain as Force Commander.<br />
<br />
When he had heard it, he was entirely unsure of what to believe. The thought that Holy Terra was under siege incensed him, but the latest reports showed that a Black Crusade had only just been launched and was long yet to reach even Cadia. Nothing in the message made sense. Primarchs returned? Terra besieged? And an Inquisitor threatening to demolish the most sacred site in the galaxy with cyclonic torpedoes.<br />
<br />
He called on Davian Thule, 4th Company captain, and asked “What do you think it means Davian?” Davian hesitated for a moment before answering, “I don't know what to think Brother-Captain. Primarchs and Terra under siege... It's incredible... Could it be that the traitor Primarchs have found some foul sorcery to transport themselves instantaneously?” Thule's face contorted in disgust at the idea.<br />
<br />
“I do not think so Davian. I am certain that our beloved Emperor would be able to guard against such sorcery with his mighty will. Still, this presents us with a problem. We have our orders to return to Chapter Master Kyras with our cargo but if Terra is besieged by enemies then we must divert course as quickly as possible.”<br />
<br />
“Do we even know who or what is besieging Terra, truly?” Davian asked.<br />
<br />
“No,” Gabriel replied, “but as long as they threaten our Emperor, then they are our enemies. Our duty is clear. Things will become clearer when we reach our destination, of that I have no doubt.”<br />
<br />
He turned to the on-board voxcaster and hailed the bridge. “Bridge, this is Captain Gabriel Angelos. Our orders have been put on hold for now. Set course for Segmentum Solar. We are moving to defend Terra, over.”<br />
<br />
The voxcaster crackled with a response, “Bridge to Captain Angelos, Captain Andronichus speaking. Understood. Bastards won't know what hit them.”<br />
<br />
It would be at least 2-3 months travel on board the Battle Barge from their current position but Gabriel knew that the Imperial palace could easily survive a decade's long siege, but still his mind was restless. He hated having so little information about what was going on. His purpose was clear though, none would dare threaten his beloved Imperium and Emperor as long as he drew breath. He would bring the fury of the entire Blood Ravens Chapter down upon these foul beings, if need be.<br />
<br />
'''Part II'''<br />
<br />
>One month later, on board the Omnis Arcanum...<br />
<br />
“Chapter Master Kyras, we've received a message from Captain Angelos,” one of the chapter serfs informed the hulking figure of Azariah Kyras. “He reports that he has recovered the Land Raider and is en route now to deliver it to the Omnis Arcanum...”<br />
<br />
Kyras cut him off with a loud “Excellent! Soon we shall return this great machine to the battlefield and lay waste to our foes.” He smiled as he thought to himself “If my suspicions are correct then I have found the Obsidian Chariot itself and I will take great pleasure in dedicating it to mighty Khorne, as well as depriving the Salamanders of a prize, as well as their Primarch.”<br />
<br />
However the serf spoke again. “My lord, that wasn't the entire message.” “Oh? Well then continue. What else does Angelos report?”<br />
<br />
“He has informed us that he has diverted course to Segmentum Solar to aid in the defence of Terra and will send word as soon as he has new information.”<br />
<br />
Kyras' fury was easily visible on his face. Did Angelos know what he had there? Vulkan's own Land Raider would certainly be quite the boon to any force who managed to deploy it.“How dare he defy my orders?!” he raged. “Tell the astropaths to send Captain Angelos this message: He is to return to the Omnis Arcanum with the Land Raider immediately!” he bellowed to the young serf, when he remembered that this was a serf he had not yet managed to corrupt. Quickly recovering himself, he added: “It would be foolish to attempt an assault on the forces besieging Terra with only three ships and three companies of Marines. He should return from his current mission and then we will decide what to do about Terra.” “At once my lord,” the serf replied, still slightly frightened from the Chapter Master's outburst.<br />
<br />
“Angelos...” he muttered through gritted teeth. His thoughts turning to the 3rd Company captain, “He has doubted me from the second I returned from the Judgement of Carrion. He watches and waits for me to make a mistake, so he can then denounce me in front of the entire Chapter! But I will not allow him the satisfaction!”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
> The Litany of Fury, also a month later...<br />
<br />
Gabriel had gathered the Headquarters units of all three companies under his command in the briefing room of the Litany of Fury to discuss the recent and future events. The Siege of Terra was well under way. The astropaths were still receiving messages infrequently urging all loyal units, be they Astartes or Guardsmen, to hurry to Terra's relief. <br />
<br />
“My brothers,” Gabriel began, when everyone had settled into the room, “a month has passed and we have learned some more about the situation on Terra. Our own 3rd Company Librarian Isador Akios has been attempting to send messages to the Inquisitor responsible for our weekly assistance calls. Isador?”<br />
<br />
“Yes, Gabriel,” he announced as he stood to take the floor Gabriel had yielded. “My attempts were focussed on relaying a message to the source of the messages we have been receiving. In the past month that we have been travelling I have sensed, as I'm sure my Brother-Librarians gathered here have as well, that the messages being sent were from a single source, rather than the efforts of a psychic choir.<br />
<br />
“This would of course imply the sender is indeed a powerful psyker being able to send such clear communications through the void at such great distances and I believe I know who it is. Inquisitor-Lord Mazzini, an old, and frail-bodied man but with a mental and psychic strength that far exceeds our own Chief Librarian, Chapter Master Kyras.<br />
<br />
“I met him once. He toured the Librarium of the Omnis Arcanum some years ago to survey some of the relics our chapter has recovered.” Davian Thule made an audible cough.<br />
<br />
“What was your opinion of him when you met him, Isador?” enquired Gabriel. “A hard liner in every sense,” was the Librarian's reply. “He recited four different Litanies of Hate, four times in a day, every day. One for the Eldar, one for the Orks, one for the Tau, and finally one for heretics. He spat his words most frequently when reciting that one. I think his inspection of our chapter's relics was motivated by a hunt for anything tainted by the Warp. His faith in the God-Emperor borders on obsession. If Terra were to be threatened, in the absence of any real leadership, I could see him attempting to seize control and, if need be... destroy Terra itself.”<br />
<br />
“I see,” said Gabriel thoughtfully. “You, as well as our other honoured Librarians, have also been sending out messages into the void to gather information on the foes besieging Terra. Do you have anything new to report?”<br />
<br />
“I've been in contact with a number of astropathic choirs from various out posts and they all say that a large fleet emerged from the Warp that travelled from Segmentum Pacificus, and having conferred with our other Librarians, they confirm this much.”<br />
<br />
“Another potential Pacificus rebellion, it would seem. There's something else though, isn't there?” questioned Gabriel, with a hint of irritation that Isador didn't immediately tell them (or him) everything.<br />
<br />
Isador hesitated for a moment then continued. “There are some scattered reports of the Pacificus forces bearing the insignia of the Luna Wolves. As well as the Word Bearers, World Eaters, Emperor's Children, the Iron Hands, and so on. Every legion that fell or lost a Primarch has been reported as currently besieging Terra itself.”<br />
<br />
The room stood silent and Isador resumed his seat.<br />
<br />
====Valdor?====<br />
<br />
===Chaos===<br />
<br />
===Necrons===<br />
<br />
====[[Trazyn the Infinite]]====<br />
Turns out he's been trying to rebuild [[Vulkan]]. Guess he wanted an autograph? He proves instrumental in bringing Necrons into an alliance with the Imperium.<br />
In the words of Anon:<br />
I was wondering where will Vulkan go, and as my headcanon is that his body (and thus one of the artifacts) is at Trazyn's place, I imagine Vulkan going to Tomb World of Solemnace and having this speech (I'll try my best in writing, but I'm no writefag):<br />
<br />
>You knew about the gift I had from my father, and thus you knew that despite the fact that my body appeared to be dead, I was not. You thought that due to my state, I am unable to hear you, but I could. Many times you tried to pull that spear from my body, sometimes trying to destroy it along with the spear. When you learned about the legend of my return once my Artefacts will be gathered, you start to gather them and using them to destroy the spear, for the sake of releasing me. For that, you have my thanks, as deep within my heart, I see you as a friend. And I see no better way to thank you than through giving you something I have created right after being released from this state in that Warpstorm. This is something I based on your symbol of rule, let it serve you well in the incoming years of our cooperation, my friend, Trazyn the Infinite.<br />
<br />
===Tau===<br />
With the Primarchs now fully assembled, the gods of Chaos now have to find other subjects to exploit en masse. To this end, they decide to work on the Tau Empire, some of it becoming lost in a Warp Storm. They corrupt a few Ethereals here, give a couple guys some "gifts" there, and then let them loose to kill shit.<br />
====Farsight Enclaves====<br />
The few Tau already aware of Chaos, Commander Farsight and his merry band of rebels become impromptu heretic-hunters.<br />
<br />
==Rough Timeline of Events==<br />
===How E-Money and C-Roach pulled this off, one version===<br />
The Cabal fucked up. Majorly. Emps-Senpai was supposed to die and with his survival, any semblance of their plan working perished. They could, however, try something else, namely fixing their mistake. <br />
It took time. A lot of time, but fortunately they had that.<br />
It took centuries to contact the Emperor in the Warp, centuries more before he was willing to hear them out.<br />
Many a Farseer's head exploded with the Emperor's rage.<br />
Finally, the Cabal convinced Alpharius, who also had cut off ties with the Cabal following the [[Horus Heresy|Horus debacle]] to follow a troupe of Harlequins into the webway. Their purpose: to find the segment of the webway that linked up with the Golden Throne, in hopes that Alpharius could speak with the Emperor directly. Sensing his son's purity, the Emperor allowed Alpharius to speak with him and Alpharius explained everything. From that point on, Alpha Legion used the webway to keep the Emperor appraised of their plans. (Perhaps in all of this, Jagatai stumbled upon them whilst hunting Deldar? They captured him and brought him before the Emperor, who explained things. Jagatai slugged Alpharius and Omegon, but forgave them. As the centuries passed, the plan took shape. The only hope against Chaos was the return of the Primarchs. With their faith in the Emperor, they could defeat the worst of Chaos and allow the God Emperor and Cegorrach to ascend as pre-eminent deities. Later, contact with Malal caused them to factor it into their plans.<br />
The plan was somewhat simple. The only way to get back the Primarchs was to either reforge them of warp stuff or steal them from parallel universes. The former would make them basically Greater Daemons, a bit too unstable for their purposes. The later would disrupt other timelines if not done carefully.<br />
The solution they came to was to pull part of a primarch's essence from a parallel timeline and fill in the rest with warpstuff, courtesy of the Emperor's will.<br />
To do this, however, required massive amounts of warp energy and an ability to travel through time. The second task was comparatively simple. The Ordo Chronos was established and set to work designing time machines. Alpha Legion moles fed information to the conspirators and when the time was right, they took the technology and allowed the Ordo to disappear.<br />
<br />
The former task was more difficult. The Emperor could draw warp energy from his followers, from the faith of man and from the sacrifice of psykers. This required dire times for man, so that their faith would be called upon again and again. Thus the 10,000 years of suffering were needed for the plan to succeed. But even then, that would not be enough power and the storage and expenditure would draw the eyes of the other Chaos Gods, so means were devised to funnel warp energy from the others.<br />
The two main players in this were Cypher and the Alpha Legion. By creating situations to power the big 4, they were able to hide the amounts that they siphoned for the Emperor, mostly via Malal. As time went on, Lady Malys became an agent of Cegorach and she too plans to siphon energy to the Emperor when the time comes, in return for a place at Cegorach's side as a demigod.<br />
<br />
With the plans laid, all that remained was to collect the fury of the warp and wait for a moment when the Chaos gods would be too focused elsewhere to notice what was afoot.<br />
This chance came during the 13th Black Crusade. At the precise moment of the fall of Cadia, the plan went into effect. The Primarchs were copied from favorable parallels, along with their legions and some of their support personnel. (the two missing primarchs were also brought back. See the wiki for our tentative work on them.)<br />
Thus it was that the Great Crusade started anew.<br />
<br />
===Then what?===<br />
<br />
*They emerge.<br />
<br />
*The precise means of confirming their identity is uncertain. Valdor? Vulkan lives? (Russ' validity is confirmed by his old pal [[Bjorn]])<br />
<br />
*Some hyper conservative Inquisitor holds Terra hostage with cyclonic torpedoes, threatening to blow it up if they don't get their way. They also somehow manage to get the [[Officio Assassinorum]] on his side, too. They've quite literally holed up on Terra in the Assassin temples with a cyclonic torpedo on a dead man's switch. Anyone who wants to get to them has to get through the Assassins first, too. <br />
<br />
The original Alpha Legion emerges from the warp and kill/destroy all the forces opposing the original Legions. Then when message comes that Holy Terra itself is being besieged by ruinous powers or chaos, Loyalists would run to rescue it. The Alpha Legion, intent on keeping cover until the end, passes a slight heads up to the other Primarchs through the [[Order of the Obsidian Mirror]], allowing them to hook up with Ironbeard, Corax, and Kurze for awesome out of the shadows hijinks.<br />
Then, after assaulting, the Alpha Legion would go "Oh noes, the loyalists, the primarchs, the real saviors of the empire, we're beat, retreat" over all the vox channels and then retreat into the warp portals.<br />
<br />
Funny thing is there would be no Alpha Legionnares casualties, and only traitors and possible traitors would have died in the couple of days long invasion.<br />
<br />
So the loyalists would be on Terra, as heroes and without political opposition. And no one would ever ask any questions.<br />
<br />
Just as planned.<br />
<br />
Hydra Fucking Dominatus.<br />
<br />
*Primarchs split up to stabilize things. Around this time Ferrus visits his legion and Fulgrim learns of his deeds.<br />
<br />
*?????<br />
<br />
*Primarchs get shit done<br />
<br />
*All Glory to the Imperium!<br />
<br />
===Some ideas that came up during writefagging===<br />
<br />
NOTE: This is all made up during the second thread, where a few writefags decided to write up on the events and needed a semi-coherent view of them.<br />
<br />
It's been discussed that it goes as follows:<br />
<br />
1. Russ meets Lorgar reborn and they send word to those Primarchs that were not technically dead - Lion, Guilliman, Vulcan, and together with some other Primarchs they meet up, Horus takes the lead after taking upon himself to gain redemption through victory over heretics<br />
<br />
2. Inquisitors take control of Terra, loyalists move in and take control<br />
<br />
3. Black Crusade finally arrives at Terra with Primarchs setting up defensive positions<br />
<br />
4. [[anal circumference|Battle]] ensues<br />
<br />
5. Khan moves in with whatever pirate/stolen DE fleet he managed to snag with his Kabal<br />
<br />
6. Dark Eldar move in pursuit, joining the fray<br />
<br />
7. Battle is won, [[Great Crusade]] 2: Electric Boogaloo commences<br />
<br />
8. EDITED: Magnus is working on reviving [[Emperor|the ultimate badass]] only after they've dealt with the Chaos invasion<br />
<br />
As has been stated in the foreword, this is all prone to debating and/or fixing, but so far it's been working well and based upon this writefaggotry commenced, resulting in [[awesome]].<br />
<br />
==Bits of Awesome==<br />
<br />
Primarch stories have been moved.<br />
<br />
{{Main|Return of the Primarchs: The Primarchs}}<br />
<br />
===Creed's Daring Escape===<br />
The despoiler was not pleased!<br/><br />
NOT PLEASED AT ALL!<br/><br />
He had heard rumours that Horus himself had come back from the dead!<br/><br />
And that he was slaying his chaotic brethren!<br/><br />
Magnus had commited suicide after another Magnus had shown up.<br/><br />
AND THE SPACE MARINES STARTED TO REFORM THEIR LEGIONS!<br/><br />
No matter.<br/><br />
Today would be good, today he would finally destroy Cadia, down on men or not.<br/><br />
His land raider crashed through the gates of a fortress.<br/><br />
And he noticed it was...empty.<br/><br />
All of it, empty.<br/><br />
He stomped into the offices and found a door.<br/><br />
"Lord Castellan Ursarkar E. Creed"<br/><br />
"Pfft, what a ridiculous name."<br/><br />
He kicked open the door, a chair was turned towards the window.<br/><br />
Abbadon then stomped to the chair, smirking, shoving his talon through it.<br/><br />
He turned it around to reveal...a dummy...cigar and all.<br/><br />
and a small sign from around it.<br/><br />
"I.O.U - Creed."<br />
<br />
"....C...C-c-cr-creee-creeee-creeeeeeeeeee."<br />
<br />
"[[Creed|CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED!]]"<br />
<br />
===Argel Tal and [[Kharn]]===<br />
Another day, another population put to the axe.<br/><br />
It had become so damn routine to Kharn the Betrayer that it was almost impossible think about anything else other than how boring it was to kill these ordinary people. So when word came of Space Marines coming to this planet, it had given the Chosen of Khorne hope that this day could be salvaged somehow.<br />
<br />
It was almost an insult to send the entire Word Bearers fleet to a single planet, much less to kill a single man, but this was a goodwill mission. Lorgar wanted to have the people on his side.<br/><br />
Instead of that overkill, it was Argel Tal who took the charge. Argel Tal had, after the public execution of Kor Phaeron, become the new First Captain of the Legion. While Lorgar felt that the notion was almost too prophetic in nature for the man who was the Crimson Lord of this timeline, he had let it pass as the captain had an incorrigible sense of honour. Tal took with him an elite company to ensure that only one man was responsible.<br />
<br />
"Wait..."<br/><br />
The Betrayer had certainly seen weirder stuff before in the warp, but this was a first. In front of him stood a warrior in immaculate grey armor, a book adorned to his left pauldron. Even more pressing was the notion he was getting. He didn't even know he had notions.<br/><br />
"I recognize you from somewhere. Where was it?"<br/><br />
Argel Tal responded, "I surely do not recognize you, red fiend."<br/><br />
It was ridiculous. His job was to slaughter, so why was he thinking? What was it about this stranger that had Kharn's mind racing?<br/><br />
"Say..." Forget it. The memory will come eventually. He took a single swipe with Gorechild.<br/><br />
"A poorly chosen first move. I had too much room to block you."<br/><br />
Somebody dared criticize his fighting technique? He, the son of Khorne? What madness-no, wait. The memories again... Ages ago, before his armor had so much blood on it. Damn it, who was this person?<br/><br />
"I know you from somewhere, Astartes!" Another swing with Gorechild. Another parry. Again. Again. "I WILL find out, even if I need to kill you before then!"<br />
Argel Tal was humored by the butcher's words. "I just have to incense you enough to remember then?"<br/><br />
"I will NOT be made mocked, much less by a corpse-slave!" This was better, Kharn thought. Kill, don't think. As a matter of fact, stop thinking. Thinking gets in the way of killing.<br/><br />
Another parry, this time using Kharn's momentum to force Gorechild to the ground, and then kicking him square in the ribs and then using that same spin to swipe his sword, leaving a scratch upon his helm. This man had to have learned that move from somewhere. Moreso, he had to have learned it in a Gladiator Pit. Wait...<br />
"You almost seem to fight like Kharn." What? His name? "So much anger, and he finds the only release for it in killing." <br/><br />
"You know me." The Betrayer took rise. "YOU KNOW ME!! WHY DON'T I REMEMBER YOU?!" <br/><br />
Argel Tal smirked. "Hardly my fault." <br/><br />
Kharn then took notice of the prow of the Astartes craft. A Two-headed eagle, the bawdy trinket of that Imperium. Funny, it was under the shadow of one of these that he saw the corpse of...<br/><br />
"ARGEL TAL..."<br/><br />
"Ah, so you do have a mind."<br/><br />
This was perfect! He remembered now, that Word Bearer he was friends with once! Okay, friend was a bit of a stretch for World Eaters, but it was something!<br />
"Now I remember...! Now I have a reason to kill you!"<br/><br />
Argel Tal cocked his head. "Would that mean I recognize you?"<br/><br />
Kharn raised Gorechild high in the air. "Know this, Colchisian! I am Kharn the Betrayer, Chosen of Khorne, Butcher of Legions! I will kill everyone and their skulls will go to Khorne!" He lowered his chainaxe and then turned around.<br/><br />
"Does this mean you're a coward, too?"<br/><br />
<br />
Kharn stopped. A violent glare erupted. "You misunderstand me. I do not need to kill you. I already had my fill. But next time I hunger, know that you will be next."<br />
<br />
===Kharn's Paradox (aka Kharn vs. Kharn)===<br />
For the second time in so many weeks, [[Kharn]] the Betrayer, Chosen of Khorne, was confronted by something that very clearly should not be. Not because it was just wrong, mind, for he has killed enough Slaaneshi Daemons to effectively nullify that sort of sensation, but because the very aspect of this happening was beyond theoretically possible.<br />
<br />
Because what was in front of him...was himself.<br />
<br />
Or rather, what stood in front of him in a shared sense of confusion was not exactly him, but what he once was. His armour a crisp shade of blue and white. In his hand, a rather crude slab of metal, decorated in many jagged edges and acid etchings. No mistaking it, this person was Kharn the Captain of the Eighth Company.<br />
<br />
"The frak are you looking at?" The white one asked.<br />
<br />
The red one craned his head, trying to figure out what in this image was an illusion. The captain, he looked genuine enough, the sword, definitely not a chainaxe. And the antiquated plasma pistol was definitely still there. So then what exactly was it that felt wrong?<br />
<br />
He gave up as he began marching, revving up Gorechild for another go at killing things.<br />
<br />
"That Chainaxe...why are you using it?"<br />
<br />
The Betrayer looked at the white copy with suspicion. "This is a gift. Now why do you listen to a rotting corpse on a chair?"<br />
<br />
The Loyalist was not fazed by the question. "I would suspect that it has something to do with the reason you listen to something favours mindless murder for murder's sake."<br />
<br />
Okay, this wit was grinding on his nerves and, for a World Eater, that usually resulted in dead people by the mountains. Kharn made his charge.<br />
<br />
Kharn took the challenge and kept the blade at an even leveling as the red monster made a charge. The red monster made a massive overhead swing. Seeing this far before the Betrayer could get there, there were some Librarians who tried to make some sort of effort to distract the red butcher. Those efforts were in vain.<br />
<br />
The Blood God's blessing made the powers fizzle out before they could reach him.<br />
<br />
Captain Kharn made his own tackle before the Betrayer could make it, aware of the terrifying power of a Chainaxe.<br />
He made a solid straight to the Betrayer's sternum. Another on his helmet, reaching a scar that looked like it was made by a power sword.<br />
<br />
"So you aren't a lie! Good to know," the Betrayer commented he recovered from the blows. "It means killing you isn't really going to screw with me or else you would have felt that broken sternum."<br />
<br />
"Just shut up, you bloody madman!" the Captain sent another punch to the head, but the Betrayer managed to turn his head just in time. As the Captain reeled back his fist, the Betrayer took his armoured hand off Gorechild sent it on the Captain's head, knocking him off.<br />
<br />
He took his time to get up, looking at the Captain grab the steel slab. Another rev.<br />
<br />
"This is almost too easy."<br />
<br />
"It is." The Captain was keeping an eye on the Betrayer as the two began circling each other. The Captain found a chainaxe in the hands of a fallen brother and grabbed it. "Now we are even."<br />
<br />
Another charge by the Betrayer. The two chainaxes clash, locking teeth with each other. A break, and another clash. And another clash.<br />
<br />
The two Kharns were evenly matched in their ferocity, and those World Eaters, both loyalist and traitor, understood that as they watched. The only breaking point would be if one of them were to lose their focus. Even a second could possibly spell their end.<br />
<br />
"Your blood is mine, impostor!" <br/><br />
"Your chainaxe is going back to it's owner!"<br/><br />
"Like he can hold it?! His hands are far too big now to even use it as a toothpick!"<br/><br />
"I hardly believe that!"<br/><br />
"Your mind would be too weak to comprehend the liberation of Chaos!"<br />
<br />
The Captain threw a boot at the Betrayer, breaking their stalemate and giving him a chance to swipe his chainaxe, leaving a massive gash upon the Betrayer's armour, oozing with blood.<br />
<br />
He was not moved, though. The Betrayer merely looked at his damaged armour, gazed up at his adversary, and revved again.<br />
<br />
"I say... Between meeting that weird imitator and you, this is definitely going to be an interesting war..." the Betrayer commented as he looked at his blood.<br />
<br />
"You just seem to never shut up and die, do you?"<br />
<br />
"In these last ten thousand years, I have practically made death terrified of me. Because when I do die..." The Betrayer swung his axe again, and again, their chains clashed. "I know that I will make sure that everyone will go down in flames with me!" The two broke off, the Betrayer preparing another swing. "Blood for the Blood God! Be it yours or mine, our blood will be a gift!"<br />
<br />
The Captain, having had enough of this, grabbed his sword again, keeping it on guard while his chainaxe was on offense. However, instead of charging as he thought the Betrayer would, all the Betrayer did was raise a plasma pistol.<br />
<br />
"Never thought of you as pragmatic."<br />
<br />
The Betrayer did not humor him as he opened fire. at point-blank, there was little the Captain could do besides try to direct it at the pauldrons, where the armour was thickest. The supreheated energy broke through the armour, but did little else.<br />
The Betrayer took his time stepping forward, enjoying the kill. By the time the Captain could get up, he noticed how close he was to getting killed by his red doppelganger.<br />
<br />
"I will enjoy this far more than I honestly should...Kharn."<br />
<br />
"And I am going to enjoy making you bleed some more once I get there."<br />
<br />
Just as the Betrayer was about to stomp on the Captain, the Captain placed his chainaxe in the way of the red boot, trapping the foot and tearing out chunks of it before backing off.<br />
<br />
The two stood up again, and the Betrayer was not happy about this. He aimed his pistol again.<br />
<br />
Instead of charging again, though, the Captain merely commented, "You know, that was a stupid move on my part. Should stick to what I know." He dropped the blade and drew his own plasma pistol, smaller than the Betrayers, but far quicker at firing.<br />
<br />
The Captain took at the scar, while the Betrayer began taking aim elsewhere, seeing how much he can cripple his double.<br/><br />
Both Kharns hit their targets, and it is again the Captain that stops first, unable to meet the Blood God's rage. Not like he needed to anyway. He just needed an opportunity, and a raging red berserker offered far more than just one. The Captain took his good shoulder and ran straight into the Betrayer and, with a single motion, threw the Betrayer overhead.<br />
<br />
Keeping up with the momentum, the Captain then rushed over, chainaxe whining away as he readied a killing blow, and...<br />
<br />
Both of them hit the other with their axes. Kharn the Captain struck Kharn the Betrayer on the chest, near his bare arm, but instead got a chainsword stuck on his weakened pauldron. Both of them bit away, but that was not for long. Both warriors would be at their limits with this.<br />
<br />
"So, I'm dying with you of all people?"<br />
<br />
"I take that as a compliment, you fake. Our blood goes to Khorne all the same."<br />
<br />
"I will not. The Emperor will protect me."<br />
<br />
"You do know he's dead?"<br />
<br />
"For now. But soon, he will return. I've seen it, and I will make sure it happens."<br />
<br />
The betrayer chuckled. "Good luck on that. Even if I die, more will come in my place. We will never stop, even if you kill us all."<br />
<br />
Another dig, and then...Captain Kharn lost senses.<br />
<br />
"Get up."<br />
<br />
Captain Kharn stood up wearily, noticing the gash on his shoulder bleeding onto his armour. How was he even still able to- <br />
<br />
Wait.<br />
<br />
The Captain's senses snapped to attention as he saw that the sky was now turned into a hue of bloody red, the corpses around them now dyed in blood instead of their normal colours, and the blazing heat.<br />
<br />
"I suppose that you at least are able to take a hit like me," he turned to see the Betrayer, armour still terribly scarred, looking at him. "Good thing too. It seems that we are far from over."<br />
<br />
"Where...where are we...?"<br />
<br />
The fires rose all around them. "It seems that our little struggle has earned Khorne's interest. Take pride, for I have never met such an equal on the field."<br />
<br />
That meant that... "This...is the Warp?"<br />
<br />
The Betrayer revved his blade. "Our only escape is paid in blood. Yours, mine, either."<br />
<br />
"Why? Why does he even bother with this. I am already dead, right?"<br />
<br />
"Because within the ten thousand years I have been alive," the Betrayer grimly answered, "I have never met a warrior even capable of equaling me in battle. I have died before, yes, but...like this, I have never died." He raised his hands to the sky, feeling the fires of hell itself lash out at him. "Our battle will never end. We will fight, and fight, and fight again, and if either of us ever die, it will never be the end."<br />
<br />
Neverending combat. It was just the thing that Khorne would want. The true champion would be the last one standing, and they would gain his full blessing, add some. The loser gets only a painful death, and an even more painful afterlife.<br />
<br />
The Captain would have accepted this. Perhaps they would have fought til the end of time itself, the name Kharn ringing throughout the cosmos as the one man who can stop himself.<br />
<br />
Except that this Captain Kharn was not the one who became a heretic. He knew better than that.<br />
<br />
The Captain dropped his weapons.<br />
<br />
"What are you-"<br />
<br />
"I am done with this. Seriously, I have better things to do than fight an endless battle with a deranged madman who seems stuck on repeat about murder."<br />
<br />
The Betrayer felt his blood boil. "You...DARE...?"<br />
<br />
The Captain began walking. "I do."<br />
<br />
The Betrayer would not take this insult. This filth, this impostor, he was walking away from such a gift? He would deny Khorne the very thing he was?<br />
<br />
"You cannot leave...! You will NOT leave! Your blood will be spilled, coward!"<br />
<br />
The Captain turned back.<br />
"How am I the coward when it has become clear which one of us is going back to killing like some old toy, physically and mentally incapable of doing or thinking about anything more than that? How am I the coward when all one of us is even trying to do is appease some god with a present like he will actually appreciate that?"<br />
<br />
The Betrayer's rage was reaching a fever pitch. The more that the Captain spewed, the more it infuriated him. This cannot stand. This will not stand!<br />
<br />
"So go ahead. Kill me, if you think that is going to prove me wrong. Honestly, I just want to get back to whatever I was doing before that. Find out how long that damn blind bastard will take before he can get to work."<br />
<br />
A horrid war howl erupted as the Betrayer made a charge. All the Captain bothered to do in response was grab his weapons and then make one dive off.<br />
<br />
"COWARD!! I WILL FIND YOU! I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN TO THE ENDS OF THE WARP!!!" <br/><br />
"YEAH, SURE! GET BACK TO ME THE MOMENT YOU CAN FIND SOMETHING MORE AMUSING TO YOU THAN KILLING PEOPLE!"<br />
<br />
The fires were rushing. They seared, but his amrour did not melt. It stung, but his skin did not char. The fires of the Warp raged all around, and while he could not see the pain, he could sure feel it.<br />
<br />
"We found a survivor!"<br />
<br />
The Captain woke up again, this time standing, back in the warzone, but...the Betrayer was gone.<br />
<br />
"Captain Kharn! He's alive!" He turned to the left, he recognized these people. Blue and White... Right, he was deployed with them. "Sheesh, how did you vanish off the face of the planet?"<br />
<br />
"I told you to stop worrying." A hoarser voice growled. He turned behind and found the man he called father looking straight down at him. "Hope you enjoyed your little trip. Whatever you did, I really do not care."<br />
<br />
"Whatever he was..." the Captain commented, "He was just a cheap copy anyway. Always murdering just to adjust to simpler things." Something struck him. "Funny, I think I heard from Argel Tal about a red-armoured lunatic that went insane on him too, but...he spared the Captain. Idiot."<br />
<br />
"Who said you could go on reminiscing?" The Primarch growled. "We still have a planet to clean up, and these tools need something to be used on!"<br />
<br />
Absentmindedly, the Captain stabbed his giant metal blade into the dirt.<br />
<br />
This would serve to be the resting place of Kharn. Betrayer, Captain, Tool of the Blood God.<br />
<br />
===Clash of Pirates===<br />
''>Korianis Sector, Subsector Daranis''<br />
<br />
The Rogue Trader Sebastus Arrelia was accompanied by a small fleet of vessels. While some of them were merely escorts and one Explorator Vessel who was paying him handsomely for a chance to work on the Archaeotech Drive in his flagship, there were also three ships of Astartes. However, their heraldry appeared to be something he never noticed before.<br/><br />
For one, it was made of dark, smoky gray with a skull as an emblem. However, they were more than capable allies, and their commander, a Captain "Calico" Jacques, was actually a very sociable person who seems to dispel every myth about the Adeptus Astartes just by his very existence.<br />
<br />
The Trader had just made his way from a re-supply station, having taken a few rotations in the crew, and made some nice profit from what he sold. While he was calculating this profit, he had found a message his Astropath intercepted.<br />
<br />
"ARRIGHT YA FILTHY GITZ, YOOZ BEST HAND OVAH ALL YER LOOT, OR YOUZE GONNA GET RUN OVER FLAT BY THE GREAT KAPTIN BLUDDFLAGG!!!"<br />
<br />
It took a moment before everything settled in.<br/><br />
"I say," Sebastus commented, "Did that message just say that we were about to be robbed by...Orks?"<br/><br />
"Indeed, sire," the Astropath replied.<br/><br />
"That's...rather dreadful," he shooed the psyker off. "I'll summon the Arch-Militant. Best figure what would be the wisest move."<br />
<br />
The Arch-Militant, a dreadfully morose bastard son of a Cardinal, was informed of the case.<br/><br />
"We have no chance of combating these Orks," he answered.<br/><br />
"Now, tell me, why is that?"<br/><br />
"These Orks," he told Sebastus, "they're the crew of Kaptin Bluddflagg. He's tried to raid Subsector Aurelia before, only to get pushed off by those Blood Ravens."<br/><br />
"We have Astartes of our own, don't we?" Sebastus asked.<br/><br />
"Would you really consider now to be a proper time to test their reliability?"<br/><br />
The trader leaner forward in his seat. "We have no better chance to see an Astartes' reliability than in the field of battle."<br />
<br />
Soon enough, a Kill-Krooza of incredible size apparated from the warp, and again the message played, much to the Astropath's discomfort.<br />
<br />
Just before they entered range, there was one last message left by the Orks:<br/><br />
"WELL? YOUZE GONNA GIVE US DA KIT OR IZ I SUPPOS'TA SMASH YA TA GEDDIT?"<br />
<br />
The Arch-Militant insisted, "You can't be seriously thinking of-"<br/><br />
"Torpedoes away." Sebastus cut them off. The crew began loading torpedoes. "If they want this ship, they'll have to get it from my cold, dead hands."<br />
<br />
The escorts started forward, expecting to open fire together against the Orky monstrosity when a small pack of ships, all larger and more heavily armed than the escorts, emerged behind the Krooza.<br />
<br />
As the Attack Craft began dogfighting, the lead Astartes Vessel began boarding the Rogue Trader's ship.<br/><br />
Here, the Captain and a few of his troops began dispersing among the walls of the ship, anticipating the inevitable boarding.<br/><br />
Meanwhile, another ship came to the defense of the Explorators, who were left exposed with the escorts slowly getting taken over by the Ork vessels.<br />
<br />
It was in the Trader Vessel that Jacques began another tactic.<br/><br />
With access to communication, he found a way to get to the Orks.<br />
<br />
"OI! OO'Z DIS DAMN GROT DATZ TRYIN' TO GET FROO TO US?!"<br/><br />
"You best learn my name soon, you flea-suckin' dirtbags," he replied, "cause you're going up against the vessels of the great Calico Jacques!" <br/><br />
"PFFFFAHAHAHAHAHA, DIS HUMIE'Z FUNNY. I WANT HIS SKULL!"<br />
<br />
As the Orks broke off, Sebastus began asking, "Umm... is that Ork now trying to raid my ship?"<br/><br />
"You act like that's not gonna happen anyway."<br/><br />
Sebastus did not take that as well. "Y-you maniac! This vessel is priceless! PRICELESS!! I can't possibly afford to repair all this!"<br/><br />
Jacques turned back to his forces, "Ah, you worry too much about this! I've got brothers here who can definitely take them on!"<br />
<br />
Jacques went to the engine deck, which was where he assumed the Orks would come to at some point or another. To mirror the need to defend this point, he also stationed a good number of his troops on this deck to keep guard.<br />
<br />
"Alright," he opened up, "Who wants to lead the wartime shanty?"<br/><br />
The battle-brothers eagerly joined in, nominating via a competition amongst themselves. It was whittled to a Sergeant Corril, who led a company of Assault Marines armed with blast shields and an anchor in place of jump packs.<br />
<br />
''>Once was a storm unlike any other<br/><br />
>The men all shook up and the ship, she would quiver<br/><br />
>Goblins came out and they tore through the crew<br/><br />
>STAND FIRM, YOUNG MEN! FIGHT WHEN YOU'RE TOLD TO!<br/><br />
>They had fear in their eyes,<br/><br />
>And the cap's lash on their hinds<br/><br />
>STAND FIRM, YOUNG MEN! FIGHT WHEN YOU'RE TOLD TO!''<br />
<br />
The Shanty motivated the men to stand and fight the Orks, who soon came to attack on the starboard side of the Engine deck. As the Orks began to board, the moralized Astartes charged towards the boarding party, Sergant Corril at the front with his Anchor. The massive instrument proved to be an able weapon, as his swings immediately pulped the Orks in front of him. Meanwhile, his squad had their shields raised to deflect incoming fire. Further behind were the Devastators, who were making use of both their heavy bolters as well as some autoguns they found stashed by the crew. The autoguns in particular kept the Orks' attention, the dakka from those guns being just the thing they wanted.<br/><br />
However, that was just the thing they wanted, as the Orks blindly walked into the Assault team's chainswords. Those greenskins foolish enough were eviscerated.<br />
<br />
As soon as the wave of green ended, the Captain took charge. He was going to take the boarding vessel and claim it as his own.<br/><br />
Their entry was greeted by more waves of Orks, but it was clear that these ones were not nearly as strong as the boarders, perhaps not being as experienced in combat.<br/><br />
Half of the crew grabbed what they could from the Orky ship and then used it to repair the hole in the ship alongside any enginseers that were brave enough to stand alongside these Space Marines.<br />
<br />
"Behold!" Jacques declared in communications. "We have taken over one of these Orks' ships! We've go the edge on them!"<br/><br />
Using the Astropath to communicate back, Sebastus responded, "I say, that does sound rather good, but my Escorts are practically half-gone. Unless you can repeat that miracle of combat again, I fail to see the good in that."<br/><br />
"HA! Just watch! And open what you can on the biggest one, I'm probably gonna take that down last!"<br />
<br />
True to his word, Calico Jacques collided the looted craft onto another, boarded it, and repeated the sequence. Meanwhile, his ships, aware of his plan, began throwing their weight into the battle, helping turn the battle against the Orks.<br/><br />
Soon enough, the only ship left was Bluddflagg's Kill-Krooza.<br />
<br />
"Well, boys," Jacques commanded them, "It's just old, big, and ugly left. Let's say we do this? WHO AMONG YE ARE TOUGH ENOUGH VOID REAVERS TO TAKE THAT DAMN ORK DOWN?!"<br/><br />
"AYE!!!!" The crew simultaneously cheered on. They took on the vessel's aresnal, the looted vessels they could use thrown in the way of the gunfire to buy the main vessels enough time to get closer to the hulk. As soon as they began boarding the Ork's flagship, it was only the Astartes Vessels left, the others having either went down with their looted vessels or rejoined their brothers on the main craft.<br />
<br />
Jacques' crew were the first to take on the Nobs on the deck, as they held their shields against the lumbering massive choppas. Corril joined the Captain in that and, with his anchor, took down the leader of these Nobs. Most of the Astartes took to raiding the Krooza, leaving only the crew and a token handful of battle-brothers to keep watch of the ship.<br />
<br />
The boarding Astartes were beset on all sides by the greenskin horde, but that was just what they wanted. In a way, the two forces were equal in that regard, both of them hungering for only battle. Orks of many different sizes surged forth to take on the boarding Space Marines, but the Marines were just as fierce defending themselves and pushed forward to destroy the ship.<br />
<br />
Among this group, Jacques and a small squad broke off from the group in order to find the Kaptin himself. The route he took was infested with more brutal Orks, many of whom were fighting among themselves for whatever reason, but that was enough to grant the crew enough time to destroy the horde uninterrupted. More fortuitous to this was the fact that among these was a rather huge Big Mek by the name of Grozznozzle, whose entire head and spinal column was mechanical. This made removing it from the rest of the Ork much easier, as well as much more satisfying.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, Corril led his gang to the Engine Deck, in order to sabotage the patchwork machinery there. They were beset by Lootaz led by heavily armored Mek by the name of Nailbrain, all armed with any variety of guns firing lasers, bullets, and anything in between. Some were even firing rockets. Though the hail took the lives of half the brothers on this mission, Corril still managed to prevail by lobbing his anchor straight into the Mek. The Ork died upon impact, and his minions began advancing towards the fallen Mek to steal his stuff. Without any opposition, the Sergeant commanded a small group of Marines armed with flamers to incinerate those Orks that had fled while the rest continued the mission, placing Melta charges on the ship's drive and engines.<br />
<br />
"Alright, Cap!" Corril voxed to Jacques. "We got the ship ready to blow up nice and easy-like!"<br/><br />
Calico Jacques and his crew were just about to lead to the command bridge, "Well done, lads! Head back to the ships, I'll be taking a certain Warboss' head!"<br />
<br />
Rather predictably, the moment they opened the gate to the bridge, more Orks came flooding in, all armed with anything they could find, some trying to hack apart the Marines with pieces of the ship itself. However, their hastily-made arms would be their failure, as the trained Astartes were able to tear through them with bolter and chainsword, even stealing the weapons they saw use for among the Orks to use against those that remained.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, Calico Jacques strode forth to stand in front of the Ork Kaptin, whose jaw was as much iron as the rest of his armor and a crudely-built cutlass in his massive fist.<br/><br />
"I say," he opened conversation, "I like your hat."<br/><br />
"YOU WANT DIS HAT?" Bluddflagg spat out, "YOUZE GONNA HAFTA KRUMP ME BEFORE YOUZE CAN TAKE IT!!"<br/><br />
Jacque scoffed, "I was gonna kill you anyways. This way, I'll get a trophy out of the deal as well."<br/><br />
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!" The Ork erupted from his seat and swung the giant sword towards the Captain, who backed off before cutting with his power sword.<br />
"First blood's already mine, greenskin," he bragged. "How much more you think you'll lose before I'm done?"<br/><br />
"I'M GUNNA KILL YOU FOR DAT!!!" The Kaptin sent his other massive fist forwards, connecting with the Captain's chest, sending him flying back. "WHOEVER THE ZOG YE ARE, I'LL BE TAKIN' ALL YER KIT AS WELL AS THAT POSH GITZ!"<br/><br />
The Ork lumbered forward, but the Astartes did not stand to face the charge. Instead, he slid under the Ork. As Bluddflagg began checking his boots to see if he had any Marine stuck on them, Jacques began commenting, "Kaptin Bluddflagg, scourge of Subsector Aurelia. I must say, this sorta prey would definitely be a good trophy for my deck!"<br/><br />
Bluddflagg grinned, "THINK OI'M AN IDJIT, DO YE?" He punched through the deck floor. "THINK I GOT ROKKS FER BRAINZ, EH?" He felt something in the grip of his fingers. "HOEW ABOUT YA TRY DIS ON FER SIZE?!"<br/><br />
The Ork grabbed a huge hammer, bits of metal sticking out.<br/><br />
He swung this massive sledgehammer around with reckless abandon, batting aside Ork crew members with as much frequency as he did Space Marines. One parry led to Calico Jacques' power sword being sent flying from his hands. However, he was able to grab a rokkit hammer from a dead Ork. He turned to the front and found the control deck.<br />
<br />
He had a plan.<br/><br />
Of course, he still had to distract Bluddflagg. That would prove easy, though, as the Ork accidentally embedded his hammer into a wall. Jacques ran towards the controls and shot the pilot with his pistol. He then took one swing.<br />
<br />
KABOOM<br />
<br />
The control deck was in ruins. So was Jacques' hands, once he finally got up.<br/><br />
"WHATCHA GONNA DO WITHOUT YER POSH KIT, EH SPEHSS MUHREEN?!"<br/><br />
Though his hands were broken, Calico Jacques could still fight, as he hefted a shield from one of the dead Astartes, In his other hand, he took a dead Ork's choppa. "Who says I needed that Power Sword to waste you?"<br/><br />
"HEHEHEHEH, I LOIK YOU. GONNA KILL YOU SLOW FER DAT!" He took one more swing overhead. Excellent. Jacques used the shield as a board to slide past the Warboss, who embedded it where the controls were, totaling all control. He heard more explosions from whence he came.<br/><br />
"And with that out of the way," he started jogging, "I feel that an escape would be the best to my interests!"<br/><br />
"YOUZE THINK YOU'LL BE GETTIN' AWAY DAT EAZY?!" Bluddflagg abandoned the hammer to find his cutlass again. ""FINK AGAIN!!!" He swung the Cutlass at the Space Marine, but his shield stopped it.<br/><br />
"BOSS!!" On of the surviving Orks shouted, "DA ENJINZ, DEYZ NOT WORKIN'?"<br/><br />
"WOT?" He growled. His distraction was enough for the Captain to try another attack with the choppa, but the Captain swatted him aside. "YOU SNEEKY SON OF A GROT...!"<br/><br />
Jacques got up, "Well, this bastard son got you beat, so I can't be all that bad, eh?"<br/><br />
"I'M GUNNA KILL YOU FER DAT!"<br/><br />
"Right now, not so sure," he finally left the door, "But later? Well..."<br />
<br />
Calico Jacques went to the the entry point he took, but found nothing.<br/><br />
"Damn idiots," he grumbled, "Try to mutiny and kick ME off, will they? I don't think so!" He took a leap into the great expanse...<br />
<br />
And he floated. He had kept track and found that it was only 6 minutes and 41 seconds before he could find a ship to pick him up, and it was one of the surviving escorts.<br />
He jumped in and found it to be piloted by Sergeant Corril. "The hell was that for?"<br/><br />
"Wasn't me, Cap," he commented as he steered around. "We couldn't keep the place Ork-free so we had to back off after placing the explosives." They started on their way back. "He, where's-"<br/><br />
"Look at my hands, sergeant. Can't grab crap right now, much less an Ork's head." He collapsed on the side of the wall. "But he's not going to be troubling anyone anytime soon."<br/><br />
Corril asked, "Shall I turn this ship around to the Grand Voyager?"<br/><br />
Jacques cracked a smile. "Get me to the nearest Apothecary. Gonna need to see if I'll be needing new hands."<br/><br />
"And that Trader?"<br/><br />
"Ahh, one thing at a time. He'll be fine. He'll be needing new ships, though."<br />
<br />
===Bloody-Handed===<br />
With a clunk, the adamantium door slid back into its recess, and the Space Marine entered. Behind him came a Primarch, ducking under the doorframe, a gesture that he was rapidly becoming used to performing. <br />
"Welcome to my home." said Shrike, making a wide, sweeping gesture that was thrown off by the glossy half-cape draped over one shoulder. He tugged it off with a snort of annoyance and flung it into the depths of the darkened room. He flicked his wrist and the lights came on, making them both cringe with pain. The room was significantly larger than Corax had expected, close to the size of the Ravenspire's armour bay. He looked about: there was a small bed in one corner, a narrow table, a small bookcase stuffed with data-slates, what looked like a drawing-board, and several strange machines sitting in the far side of the room. Shrike walked towards one of them, a strange device which hung from the ceiling like a giant chevroned spider. It lit up and chattered to life as Shrike approached. He reached out his armour-clad arms to it, and the machine extended dozens of its own limbs, clamping onto Shrike's armour and stripping it off him.<br/><br />
"Easier than waking all the serfs up." Shrike explained, over the clatter and whine of the armature's limbs. When the machine had finished its work, he stepped forwards, stretching.<br/><br />
"I have to say, I thought I was going to fall asleep at one point back there." Corax nodded sympathetically:<br/><br />
"Yes, that has to be one of the longest speeches I've ever heard."<br/><br />
"Still," said Shrike, yawning, "1st Captain doesn't sound too hard. I feel like I've been commanding the entire chapter for a while now." He shook himself:<br/><br />
"So, what was it you wanted to see first?"<br/><br />
Corax glanced at the strange machines squatting in the shadows. He pointed at a large, rectangular device with a prominent keypad facing outwards.<br/> <br />
"What's that do?"<br/><br />
"Ah," said Shrike, walking over to the machine and slapping it affectionately,<br/><br />
<br />
"This is Aetna. We found it on a derelict at the edge of the ghoul stars. At first we thought it was a template constructor, and that, y'know, we were going to be given sectors as retirement homes or something. Turns out it's not, obviously, its just an ancient fabricator. At first we thought it was broken, because we couldn't get it to make anything, despite it being in perfectly good condition."<br/><br />
He gestured to the keypad:<br/> <br />
"What it produces is linked to the keypad, only problem is, tech-marines reckon there must be at least hundreds of thousands of combinations possible on that keypad."<br />
"And there's no way of knowing which combinations work." said Corax, nodding.<br/><br />
"Exactly. So far, I've been able to discover fifty combinations, mostly by sitting here and punching in random combinations. Most of them don't make anything particularly useful to me, but one of them makes it so that you can put something in, say a bolt casing, and it will produce x amount of that, with whatever material you put in."<br/> <br />
He looked at Corax expectantly.<br/> <br />
"So... this is not being used in public, why?"<br/><br />
Shrike's face fell.<br/><br />
"Because of what happened to Panacea."<br/><br />
At Corax' questioning look, he elaborated:<br/><br />
"Archeotech device that makes medical cures. Cures to everything. That's not hyperbole, I mean stuff humans haven't had for thousands of years."<br/><br />
Corax spoke softly:<br/><br />
"What happened to it?"<br/><br />
"Orks attacked the forge world. An entire Waaagh, all on one planet. When the defenders were fighting tooth-and-nail to hold them back, the ones who had drawn the Orks there in the first place turned up. Dark Eldar. They walked in, took Panacea, and that was the end of it."<br/><br />
He gestured to Aetna.<br/><br />
"That's why. We hardly know how to use this thing, and we can't risk anyone finding out about it."<br/><br />
<br />
Shrike sat down heavily at the table, and Corax followed, easing himself into the reinforced chair. Shrike stared into the middle distance as Corax searched for something to say. He noticed something strapped to Shrike's chest, what looked like the sheath for a massive knife, easily the length of the space marine's forearm. He pointed:<br/><br />
"What's that?"<br/><br />
Shrike looked around blearily,<br/><br />
"Hmm?"<br/><br />
"Your knife. Doesn't look like standard issue to me."<br/> <br />
Shrike pressed a hand to the sheath and smiled.<br/><br />
"Ah, there's quite a story behind this one, If you're ready to listen?"<br/><br />
Corax nodded:<br/><br />
"Of course."<br/><br />
Shrike sat back and exhaled slowly:<br/><br />
"Okay, okay, where to begin..."<br/><br />
"At the beginning?"<br/><br />
"Very funny. Alright..."<br/><br />
<br />
SIGMA OCTANUS IV: M41:965<br/><br />
Shrike peered over the crest of the ridge, cranking the magnification of his helmet up. He triggered his comm:<br/><br />
"Contact with artifact, it's a webway gate. Seems to be active."<br/><br />
The voice of his second crackled back:<br/><br />
"Support needed?"<br/><br />
"Negative. Doesn't seem to be any-shit"<br/><br />
Several lithe figures in bright, sparkling costumes stepped out of the crackling nimbus of the webway.<br/> <br />
"Harlequins. Two, four, six, eight..."<br/><br />
Shrike trailed off as more and more figures stepped through. At last the flow stopped, and Shrike did a quick head-count,<br/><br />
"I count twenty-six eldar. Wait-"<br/><br />
Another figure emerged, and walked a short distance away from the others. Then it turned and looked straight at Shrike. He shuddered, a chill racing up his spine that had nothing to do with the drizzle pattering off his helmet.<br/><br />
"Twenty-seven, I repeat, twenty-seven Eldar have come through the gate and appear to be making camp."<br/><br />
"Do we engage?"<br/><br />
Shrike thought. The Eldar were outnumbered by his men by a significant margin, but he had heard horror stories about the Harlequins in battle, and didn't want a fight that he could avoid.<br/><br />
"Negative. Move to my position, I'm going to try diplomacy." He killed his vox before his second could respond, and stood up. With a flex of his legs, he lept over the edge of the ridge, and plummeted straight down. At the last second, he flared the wings of his flight pack, and landed with a thump. The eldar all around him started, and hands went to weapons. Shrike fought the urge to go for his bolt pistol, and instead raised his hands.<br/><br />
"Hold, Eldar! I mean no harm." He looked around at the tense Eldar,<br/><br />
"Who is in charge here?"<br/><br />
An Eldar, tall even for his kind, stepped forwards, his helmet bearing a bright red plume, and his coat shimmering with mesmerizing colours. As Shrike looked at the Harlequins featureless mask, features slowly began to appear on it. Shrike watched, bemused, as a perfect representation of his helmet appeared.<br/><br />
<br />
Resisting the urge to feel the beak of his helmet (in order to see if it was really that big), Shrike spoke:<br/><br />
"What are you and your troupe doing here?"<br/><br />
The Harlequin's voice was fluted and distorted to such an extent that Shrike could barely make out his answer.<br/><br />
"I could ask you the same, Space Marine."<br/><br />
"We are scouting this planet out for any signs of an Ork vanguard. So far we have found none."<br/><br />
Seemingly impressed with the Space Marine's honesty, the harlequin answered:<br/><br />
"We are merely passing through. We wish to perform for a craftworld near to here. We have left the webway to rest and take our bearings. We will be gone by the end of the week."<br />
"Perfect." For a moment, there was silence as Shrike tried to think of what to say next. An impulse seized him, and he spoke quickly:<br/><br />
"Perhaps you could put on a show for us tonight? I have heard much of the performances of the Harlequins, but I have never seen one myself."<br/><br />
The Eldar turned to his troupe, cocking his head to the side. Shrike was certain that they were communicating in some way, but before he could do something about it, the troupe leader turned back to him.<br/><br />
"We agree. On one condition..."<br/><br />
Oh dear, thought Shrike, his head filling with horrible thoughts of what it could be.<br />
"You must play one of the characters. We will provide the costume, and tell you the story, but you must provide the skill."<br/> <br />
Shrike realised he was in a corner now. If he refused, the Eldar would not perform and would most likely take their frustration out on him. His only option was to call the Harlequin's bluff. He nodded and clasped the Eldar's hand:<br/><br />
"I accept. When do we begin?"<br/><br />
<br />
SOME TIME LATER<br/><br />
<br />
Shrike's skin tingled as a pair of Harlequins applied the red paint that was part of his costume. He was standing naked in the middle of one of their tents, and was desperately crunching differential equations in his head to stave off an erection. The two Harlequins had already changed into their costumes, at least Shrike thought they had.<br/><br />
"So... I'm this Khaine creature, right?"<br/><br />
"Yes."<br/><br />
"You still haven't told me what the rest of the performance is about."<br/><br />
"It is one of the greatest tales of the Eldar race, one that the Harlequins seldom perform. The tale of the Fall of the Eldar."<br/><br />
This rung a bell in Shrike's mind, but he could not place where he had heard it before. As the Harlequins continued spreading the greasy red paint across his alabaster skin, they spoke in quiet voices of the Fall of the Eldar, and what his role would entail. By the time they were finished, Shrike was covered almost entirely in flowing red symbols and glyphs that criss-crossed and overlapped each other. One of the Harlequins began buckling several pieces of elaborate wraithbone armour onto him.<br/><br />
"So..." Shrike struggled to find words, a dull pulsing was beginning behind his eyes, and every so often, he could've sworn he heard chanting.<br/><br />
"How will I be shattered into pieces? You're not going to actually-"<br/><br />
"No. This-" the harlequin speaking clamped something to Shrike's bicep,<br/><br />
"Is a holofield. It will trigger automatically when it is needed."<br/><br />
"And until then?"<br/><br />
"Against the Solitaire? Just try and survive."<br/> <br />
The other Harlequin stepped from behind Shrike, holding a cloth-wrapped bundle in her arms. The other reached forwards and pulled the top off the bundle. The Eldar was holding a sword. A heat-haze rose up from it, and strange runes swam and pulsed on the surface.<br/> <br />
"The Wailing Doom"<br/><br />
Shrike looked around for the source of the voice, before he realised it was his.<br/><br />
The Harlequins nodded to each other.<br/><br />
"He is ready."<br/><br />
Shrike reached and took the sword. It shivered, and the bones in his hands were cast into sharp relief by the light shining through his hand. Something hit the ground with a splat. Another blob of thick, crimson gore dripped from Shrike's hand. He curled his free hand into a fist, and watched the blood ooze from between his fingers. He smiled.<br/><br />
<br />
Outside the tent, the members of Shrike's Wing, sat in a rough semicircle, watching the performance. It had, indeed, been like nothing any of them had ever seen and many of them were struggling to process what they had seen. They had seen the members of the Eldar panteon fall to the silent Harlequin, one after the other. A tear-stained woman had been snatched away from the Solitaire's claws at the last moment by a shambling tower of putrescence and filth which had made several of the marines gag. None of them had seen the Captain yet, but their attention was fixed on the cowering figure before the Solitaire. The cowering Harlequin's mask was stretched into a terrified smile, or maybe a grimace. The Solitaire drew back a taloned hand, and the Marines braced themselves for another God's devourment.<br/> <br />
<br />
BOOM<br/><br />
<br />
BOOM<br/><br />
<br />
The Solitaire lowered its arm, and turned to look at the source of the noise. So did the marines.<br/><br />
<br />
Kayvaan Shrike strode into the circle. <br />
Except, the Captain many of the marines had known for hundreds of years had changed. The veins beneath his skin glowed, as though his blood had turned to plasma. Thick gore dripped from his hands, staining the dirt crimson. The air around the sword clenched in one hand rippled, as though it were white-hot. His eyes were the worst part. They were like stars set into his face, points of light so bright and so strong it hurt the marines to look at them.<br />
He swung the sword into a guard position, and glowered at the Solitaire with such fury the Marines cringed. It snarled, the first sound any of them had heard it make, and flung itself at him.<br/><br />
<br />
<br />
The marines watched, enraptured, as the two fought. At first, the Solitaire had Shrike on the back foot, driving him around the circle with vicious flurries of slashes and stabs. However, Shrike had seemingly rallied, and was now holding his ground, deflecting and parrying every slash and stab with nary a movement of his feet. The Cowering Harlequin had recovered, and now stood behind Shrike, laughing and shouting encouragement. The Solitaire stabbed at Shrike's shoulder, he leaned to the side and smashed the hilt of his sword into the Solitaire's face. It reeled backwards, spitting blood, whilst the marines cheered. Shrike lunged forwards, the tip of his sword scratching open the front of the Solitaire's armour. The blade screamed as it touched flesh, and the Solitaire hurled itself backwards, away from Shrike. He pressed the attack, raining blows on the creature's guard, each seeming to strike with the force of a mountain dropped from the edge of space. The Solitaire fell to its knees, seemingly exhausted, and Shrike let loose a final blow which smote the claws from one its hands. He stopped, breathing heavily, then stabbed the sword forwards. <br />
<br />
The Solitaire caught the blade between its palms, holding the blade steady, no matter how hard Shrike pushed against it. The marines and Shrike alike saw the Solitaire's mask distort into a spine chilling leer. It twisted its hands, and the sword burst into pieces. Shrike staggered back, hands sliced to ribbons as the Solitaire surged to its feet, not really tired at all. It slashed at Shrike repeatedly, each swing sending ribbons of glowing blood flying. Shrike fell to one knee, already exhausted by the earlier struggle. The Solitaire stabbed at his heart, and Shrike caught its hand at the last moment, the tip of the claw an inch away from his heaving chest. The Solitaire's free hand reached round and caressed his cheek as his hands began to tremble with the effort of holding it back.<br />
The tip of the claw pressed into Shrike's chest. Glowing blood began to ooze from around it, leaving a shining trail down his chest. He looked into the Solitaire's face as it pushed harder. It looked back. Shrike opened his mouth and let loose a deafening roar as his glowing veins and eyes brightened, till the light blotted him out completely. <br />
Then he exploded. Fragment of glowing light and wraithbone armour flew in all directions, the sound mingling with the Laughing god screaming in horror. The Solitaire turned to him, flicking glowing blood from the tips of its claw. The Harlequin took one look at the Solitaire and ran from the circle, leaping over the marines, and vanishing into the shadows. The lights around the circle faded, and the marines were left in darkness, wondering if what they had just seen was real.<br/><br />
<br />
"So what happened then?" said Corax.<br/><br />
"Well, I come round a few hours later, with no idea what happened, surrounded by my men, who all look like they've shat themselves. I shoo them away, and the Eldar come in and say that they enjoyed my performance so much, they want to give me two gifts. The first was the holofield they gave me, I use that when I'm sneaking around.<br/><br />
The second-" He drew the massive Bowie Knife out of its sheath-<br/><br />
"Was this. A fragment of the Wailing Doom. It wasn't big enough to make a sword out of, so I had the techmarines make it into a knife. Apparently, its made of some isotope of Iron that the techmarines have never seen before."<br/><br />
"How do you know that it still works?"<br/><br />
"It feels hot. And it goes 'EEEEEEE' when I stab someone with it."<br/> <br />
He held the knife out in front of him, and turned it over, letting Corax see the runes pulsing and swimming across its surface.<br/><br />
<br />
The two talked long into the night, discussing everything: Shrike's childhood, growing up as a runner in the very depths of a Hive city, his joining the space marines, his ongoing romance with one of the ravenspire's serfs, it seemed the universe would end before the two stopped. In the end, though, both men were so hoarse they could barely speak, and Corax was desperate for the toilet. As Shrike bid his Primarch a good night, and watched him leave the room, he became aware of a faint splat sound. He sat up in his chair, and looked at the floor. There was a crimson stain on the tiles, directly below where one of Shrike's hands had been resting on the arm of his chair. As he watched, another crimson blob dripped from the end of his index finger, splatting onto the floor softly. He looked at his blood-smeared hands with eyes that glowed like searchlights. He smiled.<br />
<br />
===Reclaimers===<br />
<br />
LUNAPHAGE SYSTEM<br />
<br />
The cruiser tore into realspace with a swirl of unearthly colours and blazing retros. It decelerated to a mere third of the speed of light, and slotted in a orbit that would take it close to the large, tan coloured gas giant that orbited the lonely star.<br> <br />
On the bridge, Kayvaan Shrike studied the displays with tired eyes. He glanced up to the transparent bulkhead that served as a window, the weak light of the star illuminating the distant gas giant. His eyes flicked to the crewman at the sensor console.<br><br />
"Thrill me."<br><br />
The man shook his head, eyes glazed over as he observed the data feed being projected onto his retinas.<br><br />
"No signs of the Hive Fleet, sir. Although, I am picking up a small moon around the gas giant over yonder."<br><br />
Shrike eased himself out of his command chair, vertebrae in his back clunking together as he rose.<br><br />
"Mhm, better than nothing. Set a course."<br><br />
"Aye, aye."<br><br />
Shrike heard the helmsman's reply as he walked out of the bridge and down the narrow corridor to his quarters. As the door sealed behind him, he lay down heavily on his narrow bed and closed his eyes.<br> <br />
Three weeks of non-stop searching for a horde of phantom bugs. He giggled weakly, rubbing at his burning eyes with the heel of his hand. The door hummed open and Shrike groaned as he recognised the distinctive odor of machine oil and incense.<br> <br />
"If you're here to gloat, don't bother."<br><br />
The end of his bed creaked as a space marine sat down on it. Shrike placed a booted foot against the figure's midriff and gave it a weak shove.<br> <br />
"There's a chair over there, don't get gunk on my bed."<br><br />
There was a snort and the pressure on the bed eased. Shrike jammed his head under the thin pillow as booted feet thumped on the floor. There was a pause and the sound of the footlocker at the end of the bed being opened. Shrike cringed as he heard the sound of rustling pages.<br><br />
"Aww. That is just adorable, it really is."<br><br />
<br />
Opening his eyes, Shrike sat up and threw his pillow at the black-armoured figure. It bounced off the crimson pauldron and was caught by a servo-arm that hung over the figure's head. Cheeks burning, Shrike snatched the thick book from the figure's hands and closed it with a snap.<br><br />
"I knew you were sentimental, but that's just ridiculous."<br><br />
Shrike returned the book to the footlocker, glaring at the techmarine as he stood up.<br> <br />
"What did you think I did before I joined the Guard?"<br><br />
The techmarine leaned against the wall, smirking.<br><br />
"I knew about the redhead, we all did, but I didn't think there was anyone before that."<br><br />
Shrike folded his arms,<br><br />
"It wasn't the same with her. We were more like brother and sister, than...-"<br><br />
"Rabbits."<br><br />
"Fuck you. You'd've done the same."<br><br />
"If she hadn't been nearly twenty years older than me, yeah. I still don't see what she saw in you."<br><br />
"I always thought she got turned on by all the surgery she was doing to us."<br><br />
"I'm not sure that's how women work Shrike-"<br><br />
"You're one to talk. Besides, I much prefer the thought that she just liked banging a sixteen-year old, than the alternative."<br><br />
A faint look of concern traveled across the techmarine's face.<br><br />
"Which was?"<br><br />
"That she really did love me. And that I never told her I did."<br><br />
There was a pause.<br><br />
"Well... that would explain the sketches, if nothing else. Did you do them?"<br><br />
Shrike reached back into the footlocker and flipped through the worn pages of the diary.<br><br />
"Nah, one of the orderlies did it. Cost me week's scrounging, but it was worth it."<br><br />
The book fell open to a page where a small pict had been pasted in. The techmarine leaned in:<br><br />
"Oh wow. You kept that!?"<br><br />
"Yeah. All fifty of us. This was what gave me the idea to start keeping a diary. I didn't want to forget."<br><br />
The techmarine returned to his previous posture.<br><br />
"One of these days, your sentimentality is going to be the death of us, you know that, right?"<br> <br />
Shrike was still lost in memory:<br><br />
"How many of us are left out of there?"<br><br />
"Twelve."<br><br />
"Not bad for nearly 700 years?"<br><br />
Shrike didn't respond. The servo-arm jabbed him in the ribs.<br><br />
"Wuh?"<br><br />
"I didn't come here to discuss your sexual deviances. That comes later. No, I wanted to talk about our assignment."<br><br />
Shrike groaned inwardly, but said nothing.<br><br />
"I think this might be a dummy assignment."<br><br />
This was new.<br><br />
"Eh?"<br><br />
"I'm thinking, 'maybe there aren't any tyranids out here, maybe the primarch's just given his favourite a dressed-up holiday'."<br><br />
"I... I'm not his favourite-"<br><br />
"Oh, come on, everyone can see it."<br><br />
"But still, 'Nids aren't something you do that with, it's too risky. Besides, I doubt he's even seen a Tyranid yet."<br><br />
The techmarine opened his mouth to speak when the room's intercom crackled.<br><br />
"Sir? We've found something."<br><br />
<br />
The cruiser sat in the shadow of the titanic ship, velocity matched with it perfectly. Invisible beams from the cruiser's sensors played across the hull of the ship. Within the bridge, Shrike stood in full armour, watching the sensor feeds.<br><br />
The officer shook his head:<br><br />
"I'm sorry sir, whatever alloy that thing's hull is made of can't be penetrated by the auspex array."<br><br />
Shrike put on his helmet.<br><br />
"Good. It's been too long since I had a good excuse for a spacewalk."<br><br />
He strode out of the bridge, members of his Wing emerging from the shadows and falling into step with him. Anyone observant enough would've realised that the marines were all wearing the same mark of armour, with no rank insignia, and the same paint scheme. Functionally, It was impossible to tell them apart. Or even tell which had been Shrike in the first place.<br />
<br />
The marines stood, magnetised to the deck by their boots, watching as the massive hangar door opened before them. Air rushed out, the gale not even jostling the stoic marines. The surface of the massive ship was before them, slowly rotating as they watched. Shrike sent a pulse through his black carapace and the thrusters of his flight pack flared, running off an internal supply of oxidiser. Status lights flickered green on the inside of his HUD, and Shrike took a step forwards, standing on the very edge of the threshold.<br />
"PREPARE TO BOARD!"<br><br />
The marines at his back answered:<br><br />
"HOOAH!"<br><br />
As one, they lept into the abyss.<br><br />
<br />
Shrike's boots met the surface of the hull with a thump that was muffled by the thick layer of something that resembled ice, which was caked onto the hull of the ship. He reached down and scraped some off with a finger.<br><br />
"What is this stuff?"<br><br />
Aloni, the techmarine, spoke in his ear:<br><br />
"Ammonia, I think. Stuff is getting fired into space by cryovolcanoes on the moon. Judging by the thickness of the layer, this ship has been here a long time."<br><br />
Shrike stood up, flicking the muck off his finger, sending the crystals glittering into the void.<br><br />
"Spread out. Search for apertures, airlocks, hangar bays, hull breaches, anything."<br><br />
The marines began to disseminate across the hull, walking with a slow, stomping, gait that made sure one of their magnetic boots was in contact with the hull at all times. Just as Shrike was about to suggest disengaging from the hull and using thruster packs to survey the hull at a faster rate, a voice crackled over the vox.<br><br />
"Found an airlock. It's shut, but I've got cutting gear. Uploading waypoint."<br><br />
The glowing rune popped up on Shrike's HUD, and he and the rest of the marines began to trudge towards it.<br><br />
By the time he and the rest of the marines reached the airlock, the marines who found it had managed it get it open. One of them spoke aloud:<br><br />
"Atmosphere pressure on the inside is nil. Must've leaked out ages ago."<br><br />
Carefully, they stepped into the dark interior. With a thought, Shrike activated the night vision mode of his helmet, piercing the dark easily. The corridor stretched on in front and behind the marines, with other corridors branching off from them.<br> <br />
"You know the drill, squads of five, slow movement, radio check every five minutes. We're looking for the bridge, reactor room, or communications array."<br> <br />
Wordlessly, the twenty marines split into squads of five, arranged like on the face of a die, four at the edges, to watch the front and back, and one in the middle to watch the sides and ceiling. Shrike's squad moved off up the corridor, senses alert for the slightest danger. In fact, Shrike was so busy listening for the sounds of claws in a vent vibrating into his armour, he didn't notice the floating corpse until the bloodshot, leering face bounced off his helmet.<br><br />
"YARGH"<br><br />
Shrike leapt backwards with fright, crashing into the marines standing behind him. Yells and shouts filled the vox as the squad unloaded their bolters into the floating corpse. Shrike recovered his footing, and aimed several sharp slaps at the marine's helmets.<br><br />
"CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE!"<br><br />
The marines immediately stopped, but the corpse was little more than floating shreds. Hearts thumping, Shrike sucked in a deep breath from his respirator, and switched on his helmet lights. The beams illuminated more floating corpses, floating silently. Hesitantly, Shrike reached forwards and poked one with his finger. It rotated slowly, until it was facing him. The corpse's face was puffy and pale. Shrike grimaced as he saw the dried blood around the mouth.<br><br />
"Lungs burst from the pressure change."<br><br />
He nudged it again, rotating it away, so they didn't have to look at the agony-twisted face.<br><br />
Shrike keyed his vox:<br><br />
"We've encountered some bodies. No signs of xenos injuries, they've been here a long time."<br><br />
The marines moved on, through the floating bodies that started to appear more and more as they moved down the corridor.<br> <br />
<br />
T+35 HOURS SINCE ENTRY<br><br />
<br />
"Vox check: where is everyone?"<br><br />
"Verano: Cutting into cargo bay"<br><br />
The bright glare from the plasma torch threw the space marines into stark relief. Tiny gobbets of molten alloy drifted through the space around them, slowly radiating their heat away.<br><br />
"Aloni: Engine room, still looking over the reactor."<br><br />
Armoured fingers tapped the glowing screen gently, reaching past the mechadendrites plugged into the side of the console.<br><br />
"Branne: I think these are maintenance tunnels."<br><br />
The space marine drifted down the long tunnel, helmet lights illuminating the path ahead, whilst tiny jets of coldgas occasionally flared from his powerpack, keeping him steady.<br />
Satisfied that his marines were all still together, Shrike returned his attention to the dizzying array of devices that he was facing.<br />
As he glanced around the wide room Shrike had found himself in, he keyed his vox again.<br><br />
"Aloni, have you managed to get this thing's computer system working yet?"<br><br />
The response crackled back:<br><br />
"Not exactly, I've managed to get this one terminal working by hooking it up to my power pack. I can only access what was already stored on it.<br><br />
"Which is?"<br><br />
"More archeotech data that has been found since the Great Crusade.<br> <br />
The techmarine's voice trembled with excitement. Shrike stood up sharply, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling.<br><br />
"You're joking."<br><br />
"Nope. There's everything in here, STC printouts, schematics, formulae, you name it."<br><br />
Shrike leant heavily against the console in front of him, legs feeling like they were turning to cloth.<br><br />
"They're not just going to give us planets for this, are they?"<br> <br />
"Shrike, if we can bring a ''tenth'' of this stuff back to Mars, they'll probably let us retire."<br><br />
Shrike giggled at the thought, before another abruptly barged into his mind.<br><br />
"Are you backing it up?"<br><br />
"Of course. Tertiary iteration is underway at this very moment." Shrike could hear the smile in his friend's voice.<br><br />
"Groovy. These things always seem to end up going horribly wrong at some point or another. " He reached back down to the console he had been studying.<br><br />
"How's the reactor coming along?"<br><br />
The techmarine sighed, sending a small crackle of static through his microphone.<br><br />
"Well, it all seems to be in working order, but it needs a massive electric charge to jump-start the reaction and get it working."<br><br />
"How massive?"<br><br />
"A little bit more than the total output of all our power-packs combined."<br><br />
"Bugger. What about the capacitors? Is there any residual charge left in them?"<br><br />
The techmarine glanced about the massive reactor room.<br><br />
"I'll have a look, but this place has been cold for a very long time."<br><br />
<br />
Deep in the bowels of the gigantic ship, Verano's plasma cutter finally finished its work, and two of the marines wedged their arms into the gap and slowly forced the bulkhead open. The lights from their helmets illuminated the inside of the massive room. As they stepped through the door, they became aware of rank upon rank of smooth grey obelisks before them. Verano walked close to one, and had to look closely before he realised what they really were.<br><br />
<br />
Shrike was attempting to pry open a hydraulics panel with his multi-tool when Verano spoke in his ear.<br><br />
"This isn't a battleship, Shrike. Cargo bay is full of cryo-pods. We estimate about 500 000."<br><br />
Shrike swallowed:<br><br />
"Any survio-"<br><br />
"No" Verano looked into the pod nearest to him. The inside was covered in silvery scratch marks, some of which were smeared with dried blood.<br><br />
"I don't think it was quick, either."<br><br />
Shrike was silent for a moment. Then the ship seemed to lurch around him, throwing him backwards and forwards on his magnetised boots. As it stopped he reached for his vox:<br><br />
"What was that!?"<br><br />
Aloni:<br><br />
"Not me."<br><br />
Verano:<br><br />
"What was what?"<br><br />
Branne:<br><br />
"That was close, nearly lost my grip."<br><br />
Shrike activated the vox channel to the cruiser, still waiting patiently in the colony ship's shadow.<br />
"What was that?"<br><br />
Shrike distinctly heard the sound of alarms in the background as the officer replied:<br><br />
"Massive gravitational shift from the star. Matches anomalies that have prece-"<br><br />
"-ed Tyranid Hive Fleets, yeah, I know. Can you get a message off?"<br><br />
"No sir. Astropath is trying his best, but he can't push a message through the shadow on his own."<br><br />
Shrike inhaled, thinking hard.<br><br />
"Alright, here's what you do: make for the edge of the system, as soon as you are out of the heliosphere, warp jump to the nearest star fort. They should have a choir you can use to alert the sector fleet with."<br><br />
"Are you and your men staying, sir?"<br><br />
"Aye. This ship is too valuable a find to leave to the 'nids, and if we can restore power, we may be able to leave the system on our own."<br><br />
The officer's voice was hesitant, but firm.<br><br />
"Aye aye, sir. Good Luck."<br><br />
"Likewise." said Shrike, closing the channel, and opening another:<br><br />
"Aloni, we need that reactor now."<br><br />
The techmarine had heard the entirety of Shrike's conversation, and was frantically plugging cables and mechadendrites into the reactor.<br><br />
After a moment, he paused in front of the control console:<br><br />
"Initiate Jump-Start."<br><br />
"Here goes nothing", he murmured, and pressed the key.<br><br />
<br />
At once, Aloni felt the floor vibrate, and the screen his finger rested on flickered.<br><br />
Then a blinding pillar of light exploded in the center of the reactor, sending the photosensitive Raven Guard reeling. <br />
The ship vibrated as ancient systems started spinning up, sending the marines clinging to whatever was nearest to them. Lights burst back into life, dazzling them. Gravity abruptly made itself known, sending corpses and loose objects plummeting to the deckplates. Shrike found himself clinging to a doorframe, realising that the reason he could not understand any of the deck signs was because he had been standing on the 'ceiling', rather than the deckplates. Oxygen flooded the ship, returning sound and pressure.<br />
Shrike awkwardly lowered himself to the floor, wobbling slightly as all his blood started seeping back into the right places.<br><br />
"Nice job Aloni. See if you can find the-"<br><br />
A strange golden light spilled out of the room before Shrike, distracting him. Message unfinished, the space marine carefully walked inside.<br><br />
<br />
Inside the room, a figure was being constructed out of golden light. Shrike stood, mesmerized, as the shape rendered into a humanoid figure, and then a faceless man made from golden light was standing before him.<br> <br />
"I'm sorry, how long have I been out?"<br><br />
"Wha... What are-"<br><br />
"Hmm, internal sensors seem to be offline, I cannot read your bio-signs."<br><br />
The figure paused.<br><br />
"Or anyone's bio-signs, come to think of it. How badly was I damaged?"<br><br />
"Y-you were damaged?"<br><br />
"Well, I assume so, many of my ancillary systems are only just starting to come back online."<br><br />
Shrike stared at the figure, completely lost for words.<br><br />
"What are you?"<br><br />
The figure cocked its head in a puzzled manner.<br><br />
"I am a Gold-Man class AI, serial number 2001DA42, currently serving aboard the Ark Ship Bellerophon."<br><br />
Shrike swallowed: This was bad.<br><br />
"And, ah, what year is it?"<br><br />
There was a definite note of confusion in the AI's voice now, along with the faintest trace of worry:<br><br />
"24589. Why?"<br><br />
For a moment, Shrike was silent, working out the strange date in his head. Then he realised, and his empathy rose to the surface, unbidden.<br><br />
"I'm sorry. But you've been asleep for a very long time."<br><br />
<br />
====Might Of the Ancients====<br />
Before the figure could speak again, Aloni spoke urgently on the vox:<br><br />
“Shrike, the sensors are picking up bio-ships approaching the gas giant, I think they know we are here!”<br><br />
The Gold Man looked around in confusion:<br><br />
“Bio-shi-? What is going on!?”<br><br />
Shrike raised his hands in a placatory gesture:<br><br />
“Look, I know this is hard for you, but there are a hundred million monsters bearing down on us at half the space of light, we need this ship at battle stations as quickly as possible. Can you do that?”<br><br />
The AI’s featureless face turned to Shrike for a long moment, and then nodded.<br><br />
“Aye aye.”<br><br />
Across the ship, alarms blared into empty rooms, warning long-dead passengers to secure their belongings. Aloni was alarmed to see the reactor’s power output exceeding that of an Emperor-class battleship, and keep rising. Ancient weapon systems began to warm upon the side of the ship. Thuster banks lit up on the side of the ship, blasting clouds of frozen ammonia into space. Beyond the mighty ship, stars flickered as Hive Fleet Chimera passed in front of them.<br><br />
A large holographic projection leapt into the space in front of Shrike, startling him with its clarity and focus. The bioships were highlighted in red, with projections of where they would move in front of them. The Gold Man spoke:<br><br />
“These things don't match anything in my database; do you have any information on them?”<br><br />
Shrike triggered his vox:<br><br />
“Aloni, upload the Tyrannic War database to this thing’s computer system.”<br><br />
“Why? Also, how are you getting this thing movi-“<br><br />
“Later, DO IT.”<br><br />
There was silence, and then a chime came from the AI, its head twitched:<br><br />
“Download complete, database assimilated. My my, this is fascinating...”<br><br />
The projection seemed to stutter, and then names of the various classes appeared over the bioships. Shrike also noticed the bioships now had fields of fire mapped out from them. He turned to the Gold Man:<br><br />
“When are we in range?”<br><br />
“About... now.”<br><br />
The Ship lit up.<br> <br />
A massive beam lanced from the prow, smashing into one of the larger bioships. The chitious giant burst from within, its internal fluids boiling. <br />
Several hundred shapes rocketed forth from the flanks of the Bellerophon, accelerating to hundreds of kilometres a second. As they closed with the lead bioships, they spat glowing projectiles which crashed into the Tyranids, heedless of the clouds of corrosive spores billowing from them. Great gouts of boiled flesh and freezing fluid jetted forth from the wounds, sending the weakened bioships off course. The drones turned, cancelling out their velocity at a rate that would turn any living pilot into a smear, then smashed into the bioships closest to them in massive explosions that were gone in a second, smothered by the vacuum. The Tyranids started to break formation, drifting in all directions to try and escape the second wave of drones bearing down on them.<br />
Shrike looked at the projection; the bioships were not even halfway in range. Despite this, he saw one of the dying hive ships convulse, then spit a pair of kilometre long spines at the Bellerophon, ripping itself to pieces with the effort. Shrike clenched his teeth as the two flashing glyphs sped towards the ships at fantastic speeds. At the last moment, the ship rolled, the first spike speeding over the bow. The second hit the shields at five-hundred kilometres a second and snapped in two, the remains bouncing free. <br />
A thruster bank at the ship’s rear flared, turning the nose, still turned 90 degrees on its axis, to point at another of the giant hive ships. The spinal lance fired again, the searing beam slicing open the foul creature’s flank, sending a small ocean’s worth of corrosive ichor spraying onto its escorts, dissolving away chitious armour and soft flesh.<br />
A quarter of the Hive fleet was gone, and the Bellerophon had not even begun to fight, yet. <br />
There was a chime, and Shrike looked up at the Gold Man:<br><br />
“One of the bio-ships is accelerating. Re-tasking drones.”<br><br />
The third wave of jet-black shapes sped towards the hive ship, which was speeding forth on a plume of frozen gas, outstripping its flagging escorts. <br />
The drones spat torpedoes at the bio-ship, pulverizing its pyro-acid batteries and bio-plasma tubes. The drones had come too close to the hive ship’s protective spore clouds, however, and were corroded beyond use before they could make a second pass. <br />
Snorting out a plume of gas from its prow, the heavily injured ship rolled, presenting its flank to the Bellerophon. Before Shrike could work out what it was doing, the hologram registered thousands of small contacts breaking from the hive-ship’s side. The Space Marine snarled as he realised what the clever bugs were trying to do.<br><br />
“Mycetic Spores. The bastards are trying to board!”<br><br />
<br />
Hundreds of red bolts spat from the side of the Bellerophon, blasting spores to pieces, but more and more kept coming, and the point defence batteries had never been designed to deal with this many targets all at once. Shrike looked at the AI, which was swatting at the air, as though trying to knock the spores away. It looked at him for a moment:<br><br />
“It’s no good; they’re overloading the defence system!” <br><br />
As Shrike watched the hologram, a proximity alarm sounded as dozens of spores impacted on the side of the ship, moving too slowly to be stopped by the void shields.<br />
The AI jerked:<br><br />
“Hostile forces have breached the hull. Internal sensors count at least 30 combatants.”<br><br />
Shrike held up a hand, grinning behind his helmet.<br><br />
“You take care of the rest of the bio-ships, we can deal with the boarders.”<br><br />
With that, he sprinted out the door, talking on his vox to the rest of his wing, setting up choke points and barricades remotely. As he paused at an intersection, he called his last contact:<br><br />
“Aloni, there should be an armoury near to your location. Meet me at deck seven, fifth quadrant.”<br><br />
He grinned:<br> <br />
“Bring some surprises for the ‘nids, would you kindly?”<br><br />
In the reactor room, the techmarine was disengaging his mechadendrites from the battery of consoles before him.<br><br />
“Copy that, moving.”<br><br />
Before he left, however, one of the mechadendrites still plugged into the console stiffened, and the techmarine went rigid. Far away, the Gold Man curled his fingers, leafing through the memory data stored in the techmarine’s implants. After a moment, the mechadendrite withdrew, and the techmarine walked on, not even noticing the delay.<br />
<br />
+++15 MINUTES LATER+++<br />
Shrike shifted his grip on his bolt pistol, checking his bowie knife was secure in its scabbard with his free hand. Both the talons were extended, points crackling with built-up charge. The light flickered, and then failed, leaving Shrike in the darkness. He engaged his night vision, and keyed the vox to the Gold Man.<br> <br />
“Lights are off in my sector.”<br><br />
“I know; I’m re-routing non-essential power to the point defence system’s void radiators. I don't want any more spores getting through.”<br><br />
Shrike switched channels:<br><br />
“Getting kinda bored up here ‘loni, where are you?”<br><br />
The voice that came back sounded strained:<br><br />
“En route, the tram has stopped working, so I’m using the maintenance tunnels to reach you.”<br><br />
Before Shrike could reply, he heard the distinctive sound of claws skittering on the deckplate, and took the safety off his gun. <br />
The first genestealer that made it around the corner took a bolt round between the eyes, and fell backwards, tripping up its fellows. With his free hand, Shrike tossed a thermite grenade at the skittering horde, and was rewarded by a cloud of burning powder covering the Tyranids, burning into their carapace, and filling the corridor with bright, actinic light. The least burned, and the ones that the thermite hadn’t reached, charged at Shrike, claws outstretched. He took out three more with headshots before his sidearm ran dry, and he let it fall on its strap. The first to reach him was uppercut by the talon, and then thrust-kicked into its fellows, forcing them to claw past the corpse before they could reach Shrike. The first that made it past that found both talons stabbing into its chest, puncturing its lungs and heart, and was then used as a shield as Shrike pushed against the gene-stealers, forcing them back down the corridor.<br />
Shrike disengaged from the corpse and took a step backwards as the genestealers started to recover their footing. For a moment, he froze, unsure of how to proceed. The Tyranids seemed to sense his uncertainty, and charged again. Before they reached him, a flurry of red bolts shot past Shrike’s shoulder, and smashed into the Tyranids. Shrike looked around to see Aloni advancing down the corridor behind him, firing his weapon again. The pulses of it firing were underlaid with a buzzing sound, Shrike noticed, as he moved out of his friend’s line of fire. The blasts that hit the genestealers left smoking craters of cauterized flesh, and seemed to have enough ooch that they knocked the Tyranids over.<br> <br />
“Don’t tell me you kept all the good stuff to yourself!” Shrike bellowed over the gunfire and sound of dying Tyranids.<br><br />
“Of course not!” The servo arm deposited another of the rifles in Shrike’s arms. He retracted the lightning claws and it only took him a moment to find the trigger before he was joining his friend in firing down the corridor, lighting the Tyranids up in flashes of crimson. Before long, enough genestealer corpses were piling up in the corridor that the oncoming ones were becoming mired in their own dead. A mere two-and-a-half minutes since Shrike had first encountered them, the genestealers were all dead. The two space marines stood, breathing heavily, and watching the twitching corpses of the genestealers. Shrike was the first to relax, taking his finger off the trigger of the strange rifle, and letting the muzzle point to the blood-spattered deckplates.<br><br />
“I like this gun!” He held it up, studying the construction.<br><br />
“You have an eye for quality, my friend.” He clapped the techmarine on the pauldron, and began to stride back up the corridor.<br><br />
“C’mon, I want to see how the Gold Man is doing.”<br><br />
“The what?”<br><br />
Shrike suddenly realised he had let his mouth run away with him again.<br><br />
“Shit.”<br><br />
<br />
The two walked the empty corridors of the ship, arguing fiercely.<br> <br />
“So far, it has complied with everything I asked it to; it has been helpful, coherent, hell, even polite!”<br><br />
“It could just be playing you. Remember what I said about your idealism being the death of us? This was what I was talking about. You’ve seen what this ship can do to Tyranids alone; imagine if we take it all the way back to Mars and it decides it’s fed up of these smelly meatbags and nukes the whole solar system into glass!”<br><br />
Shrike stopped, and turned to look at his friend:<br><br />
“Whose word do you have that AI are evil? Your tutors, who were told that by their tutors, who were told that by theirs, on and on and on, all the way back to Old Night. That’s what? Nearly 13 thousand years ago. Both of us know that it doesn’t take half that long for knowledge to be corrupted beyond all recognition.”<br><br />
Aloni started to speak up, but Shrike cut him off:<br><br />
“When I spoke to it, it told me the date was 23589. Nearly a millennium before the start of the age of strife. Whatever may have happened that turned them all bad, this one missed out."<br><br />
Aloni went to speak, but Shrike interrupted again:<br><br />
“Look, whatever you say is meaningless. I hate to do this, but I am in command here, and I am saying we leave it unharmed.”<br><br />
With that, he turned, and walked up the corridor. Aloni’s jaw worked as he tried to think of something to say, but Shrike was right. Nothing would convince him otherwise.<br> <br />
“Kay.”<br><br />
Shrike froze, then slowly turned.<br><br />
“No one’s called me that in a very long time.”<br><br />
Aloni clasped his hands in a pleading gesture:<br><br />
“If I can’t convince you, then just listen to me. Several of my implants say that something has made an intrusion into my memory banks. Maybe it’s nothing, maybe I’m just being paranoid, but if there’s the slightest chance that it knows what has happened whilst it was asleep...”<br><br />
The techmarine let the implications hang for a moment, then sighed.<br><br />
“Look... just be careful, alright? This wouldn't be the first time your idealism has blinded you to danger.”<br><br />
Shrike paused, as though trying to think of what to say, then turned, and strode silently back up the corridor. <br />
Aloni followed, hoping against hope that his friend was right, that it really was benign. Shrike had what the rest of them all lacked: compassion. Aloni only hoped that it wouldn’t be the death of him.<br><br />
<br />
Far away, the newly assimilated knowledge burned away in the Gold Man’s mind, no matter how much it tried to ignore it and focus on the Tyranids. It could not believe what it had seen in the techmarine’s memory. How could the AI turn against Humanity after the two had worked together for so long? <br />
Deep down, in the ancient mechanisms that had granted AI true sentience for millennia, rage began to build. Rage that the AI could have fallen so far, rage that the humans of today were barbarians compared to what he was used to. As the spinal lance rent another Hive Ship open, the Gold Man made up his mind. <br />
He refused to fall to the same weakness that had overcome the others.<br><br />
If these humans would not see reason, he would have to rape it into them.<br><br />
<br />
As the two space marines approached the bridge, Shrike noticed that the occasional shuddering and lurches from the ship was starting to grow more violent. <br />
“Does this ship have any portholes?” he wondered aloud.<br><br />
“Doubt it.” Said Aloni,<br><br />
“Structural weakness, leaving a big gap in the armour like that.”<br><br />
As if someone had been listening to the marines, a hologram suddenly materialised before them.<br><br />
“Huh. Voice activated y’think?”<br><br />
“Hmf, probably your new friend listening in.” Said Aloni, leaning in to study the projection. He pointed at the red blobs:<br><br />
“These are the ‘nids, right?”<br><br />
“Yeah.”<br><br />
Shrike frowned,<br> <br />
“This ship’s guns have nearly an entire Astronomical Unit of effective range, from what I've seen, but we're nearly within visual range of these things.”<br> <br />
He turned away from Aloni, for a reason that he didn’t quite know, and keyed his vox.<br><br />
“Gold Man, we’re nearly within spitting distance of these things, what’s going on up there?<br> <br />
Some strange property of the Bellerophon’s Void shields was interfering with the neutrino pulses that the vox systems used, so the transmission Shrike got back was filled with static, and he only heard a small part of it: <br><br />
“I refuse to be forgotten. Written off as less than worthless”<br><br />
Shrike blinked:<br><br />
“What!?”<br><br />
Behind him, Aloni gave a very pointed sigh.<br><br />
Shrike very pointedly gave him the finger, then began to jog up the corridor, Aloni following close behind. The hologram somehow kept pace with them, allowing the marines to see the simulacrum that was the Bellerophon chasing down the scattered remains of the hive fleet. The ship trembled again, making both of them stumble, and the last of the projected Hive ships winked out, leaving but a few disoriented escorts and cruisers, all of which had enormous clouds of drones chasing them down.<br />
The battle outside was all but won. As Shrike quickened his pace, he could only hope that a battle did not start within.<br />
<br />
SOL SYSTEM<br />
<br />
At the edge of Mars’ sphere of influence, a titanic warp rift tore open long enough to admit a monolithic spacecraft, before slamming closed again. The Sol Defence Fleet, still on high readiness after the traitor invasions, scrambled to intercept it as it slotted into Mars orbit. They were universally baffled as it started to broadcast Raven Guard IFFs and code phrases across all channels. As it arrived in a geostationary orbit above the red planet, it transmitted another message:<br><br />
“This is the Gold Man AI, aboard the starship Bellerophon. I have been awoken by compassionate members of your people, and I come with a request.”<br><br />
Every ear, microphone and audio receptor was hanging on what it said:<br><br />
“I come not seeking that you worship me, or intending to destroy you. I come with the hope that you understand. Whoever is in charge of your peoples, please, come to the Bellerophon. I wish you no harm, only that you will listen to me. Thank you.”<br><br />
The mechanicum was in uproar, torn between those who wished to smite the unholy ship from the skies, and those who wished to fall on their knees and worship it as a sign from the Omnissiah. The Fabricator-General was silent, as was Terra.<br><br />
Finally, a joint transmission from the red planet, and the Imperial Palace, stopped them in their tracks.<br><br />
“This is the Fabricator-General of Mars and the God-Emperor of Mankind. We hear you, Gold Man, and we seek an audience with you.”<br><br />
Before the uproar could start anew, the Gold Man replied, a distinct note of relief in its voice:<br><br />
“Thank you. The Bellerophon is ready and waiting for you. Bring whatever guards you require, my hands are empty.” Moments later, a dropship blasted through the iron winds of the red planet, and an Adeptus Custodes shuttle left the orbit of Terra.<br> <br />
The Gold Man waited, it had expected intolerance, it had expected closed minds and blazing weapons. The possibility of acceptance made it more afraid than it could ever remember being.<br><br />
<br />
The two landing craft drifted into the cavernous cargo bay of the Bellerophon, setting down gently as the adamantium blast doors closed behind them. Hatches opened, and the respective honour guards took up their positions, Skitarri and Custodians ready for the slightest sign of attack. The Fabricator-General was the first to leave his transport, gazing about the hangar bay with a seemingly aloof expression on the holo-mask that substituted his face. To his left, the Emperor left the Custodes shuttle. The replacement suit of power armour for him was not yet finished, so he wore a modified suit of Custodes armour. He caught the Fabricator-General’s eye, and the two exchanged nods, acknowledging their opposite as the leader of their own culture. <br />
The two strode forwards, out of the cargo bay and through the labyrinth of corridors, seeming to already know their destination. Their guards were silent, but on edge, expecting attack from any direction.<br><br />
The Emperor was the first to break the silence:<br><br />
“Tell me, my lord Fabricator, what do you think of this ship?”<br><br />
“Its construction is fascinating, as is the technology behind it.”<br><br />
He dragged his hand across the wall, and held it up.<br><br />
“Here, an alloy heretofore unknown to the mechanicum. If I can find that by brushing dust off the wall, I cannot wait to see what can be found by analysing the ship in more detail.”<br><br />
A small smile crept across the Emperor’s tanned face:<br><br />
“Are you excited, my dear Fabricator?”<br><br />
The Fabricator-General looked around for a moment, as though trying to get away from the question. Then he nodded:<br><br />
“Yes.”<br><br />
The Emperor smiled:<br><br />
“Me too.”<br><br />
By the time they reached the bridge of the starship, the Fabricator-General was looking around like a child given the keys to a sweet-shop, whilst the Emperor was absolutely beaming. The guards were starting to wonder if their charges were being influenced in some way they could not detect, and all jumped as a space marine walked out in front of them. He raised his hands, as if to ward off the Guardian Spears and Volkite Guns trained on him, then carefully removed his helmet and locked it to his belt. None of them recognised his alabaster features at first, until the Fabricator-General spoke up:<br><br />
“Kayvaan Shrike. 1st Captain of the Raven Guard. Hero of the Imperium. Saviour of Targus VIII. Bane of Waaaghs Skullkrak, BoneBreaka, ‘EadSplitta and Garaghak . Hunter of the Night Lords. Architect of Operation Heracles. Declared Missing In Action against the forces of Hive Fleet Chimera.“<br> <br />
Shrike folded his hands:<br />
“Obviously not. Me and my men located the Bellerophon in the Lunaphage system, and re-activated it and the Gold Man."<br><br />
The Emperor spoke:<br><br />
“The Hive Fleet?”<br><br />
“Destroyed, and every dead bioship decelerated into the star.” Shrike spoke with obvious relish.<br><br />
“Why do you serve the Gold Man?”<br><br />
Shrike frowned at the Fabricator-General.<br><br />
“I do not. It was my idea for it to come here and send the message.” His face darkened.<br><br />
“It was desperate. It had learnt of the Mechanicum from my tech-marine, and the knowledge was driving it mad. It would have done anything to be listened to. I just provided an avenue with the least possibility of collateral damage.” He smiled awkwardly:<br><br />
“You would not believe how glad I am that you chose to listen.” With that, he turned, and walked into the bridge, Emperor and Fabricator following. Within, stood a figure made of Golden light.<br><br />
The Fabricator-General bowed his head:<br><br />
“Machine Spirit of the Bellerophon, thank you for granting us an audience.” <br><br />
The Skitarii behind him knelt.<br><br />
<br />
“Machine Spiri- what? I am no spirit, I was constructed at the Gemini Facility in Greater China, in the year 24268. There were 41 Gold Men before me, and...None after me. Oh my...”<br><br />
The AI was silent, staring into empty space. Shrike spoke:<br><br />
“I always assumed machine spirits were some remains of AI that were scattered across the galaxy. Is that anywhere near correct?”<br><br />
This seemed to jerk the Gold Man out of his potential BSOD, and he spoke again.<br />
“That sounds similar to the noosphere-“ The fabricator-general had looked up at this, and it seemed to excite him, so the AI went on:<br><br />
“In my time, it enveloped across the galaxy, the absolute pinnacle of information-sharing technology. A man on Earth could speak to his wife on Medusa in an instant.<br> Intelligences such as myself could transmit themselves to a new location in the blink of an eye."<br><br />
The Fabricator General hung his head:<br><br />
“The noosphere only operates on certain Mechanicum forge worlds now, and even then, only in a short radius.”<br> <br />
“You people really have forgotten everything, haven't you?”<br><br />
There was a definite note of bitterness in the AI’s voice now:<br><br />
“Humans went from the paragons of the galaxy, to this. Savages scraping through the dust for knowledge they don’t understand, and technology they think is magic.” <br />
By the end, it sounded almost disgusted, and turned away.<br> <br />
The Fabricator-General stood straight, going from a scraping pilgrim to a noble cardinal in a moment.<br><br />
“Then show us. Tell us how to learn again.”<br><br />
The AI remained stock-still. The fabricator-general stepped closer.<br><br />
“Please. We need you to hope again.”<br><br />
“Hope.” The Intelligence still sounded bitter.<br> <br />
“A human concept. I am merely a machine that thinks it is human. A collection of scripts and processes that replicate a human’s thoughts and feelings, that is all.”<br />
The Fabricator fell silent. The other figure stepped forwards.<br> <br />
“Are humans really much more?” said the Emperor.<br><br />
“What are we, but biological impulses triggered by clouds of neuro-transmitters and external stimulation? Where is the threshold when an animal, driven by the needs of its own body, becomes something more? Something that can think, and wonder? Where is the threshold where a collection of scripts and processes starts to wonder why it was made, and what it is going to do now?”<br><br />
The AI gave a derisive snort;<br><br />
“Plastics and metal, arranged so that electricity moves through it in a strange way, that’s all I am.”<br> <br />
“Ultimately, even I am made from matter cast off by exploding stars. Random elements, collected together by nothing more than chance. A sack of meat, with strings running through it so electricity moves through it in a strange way, that’s all.”<br><br />
The Gold Man turned around. The Emperor moved closer, and continued:<br><br />
“Please. There is still hope. For all of us. What was once can be again, I swear."<br><br />
“Okay.” The Gold Man’s voice was choked.<br><br />
“I’ll try.”<br><br />
<br />
===Pride Before a Fall===<br />
Shrike sat in his new workshop aboard the Bellerophon. Since he had claimed it as his flagship, he had decided to move much of his, and the 1st company’s equipment onto the Bellerophon. There was more than enough space for it all, he mused, adjusting the magnifying glass he was peering through. He had opened up one of the archeotech plasma rifles that had proved so effective against the genestealers, and was attempting to reconcile what he already knew about the working of plasma weapons with the workings of this device. He leaned in, and was startled when the headset lying on the table nearby went off.<br> <br />
It was her.<br><br />
Wiping off the soldering iron on a small sponge, Shrike jammed it back in its holder and sat back in his chair. He reached for the headset, and hesitated for a second. The interruption was really something he could do without, and if he left it for too long, she would probably assume he was asleep or something. He picked the headset up, and put it on, brushing his hair away from his ears as he did so.<br> <br />
“Hey.” The person on the other end sounded breathless. Shrike said as much.<br><br />
“Been trying out the jogging track in this place. Effects of micro-gravity and all that.”<br><br />
“Did all my stuff arrive in the gym?”<br><br />
“Yeah, Cogboys dropped it off this morning. I was going to give it a try, actually.”<br><br />
“Be careful with that stuff, will you? It’s meant for me after all, I don’t want you throwing your back out. Again.”<br><br />
The voice sounded slightly amused by that.<br><br />
“If I remember correctly, it was just a pulled muscle. I’m not that old.”<br><br />
“D’you want me to come down and spot for you?”<br><br />
“Nah, I spoke to the Gold Man earlier, he said he’d be happy to help. He’s so eager to please, he’s like a puppy.”<br><br />
Shrike shook his head in disbelief:<br><br />
“Wait a second, let me get this straight: The Gold Man is a computer so advanced, it can be judged to be a sentient being. He is older than me and the Imperium put together, and his body is the largest ship ever to fly under the Aquila. And you, sweet thing, want to use him as an exercise aid. Is that correct?”<br><br />
“Yep. Although, I think you’re stretching the age a bit, he was offline for most of it.”<br><br />
Shrike smiled.<br><br />
“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”<br><br />
“Yep. What are you doing, anyway?”<br><br />
“Oh, trying to scrape enough of the superconductor out of one of these plasma rifles that I can get Aetna to replicate it.”<br><br />
“How’s the resistance compared to the superconductor you scraped out of that Hive Tyrant’s shell?”<br><br />
Shrike blinked.<br><br />
“How do you know about that?!”<br><br />
The voice chuckled:<br><br />
“You talk in your sleep.”<br><br />
Shrike scowled, trying to keep from grinning.<br><br />
“Bollocks I do, you’ve been stealing papers out of my desk again, you naughty thing.”<br><br />
“You sound like a character out of one of those shitty porn novels Verano reads.”<br><br />
Shrike snorted with laughter:<br><br />
“You’ve not been going through his stash? Heh, you should watch out, he gets very defensive about that.“<br><br />
His smile faded.<br><br />
“Verano’s not been himself since the Harrison incident. I think he blames himself for not getting him out quickly enough.”<br><br />
An idea struck him:<br><br />
“You’re a councillor, why don’t you have a talk with him?”<br><br />
“I was a councillor for the Imperial Guard. Space Marines are an entirely different problem. Besides, your men have made their opinion of me clear more than once.”<br><br />
Shrike nodded sadly, but before he could continue, a crackling sound behind him heralded the arrival of the Gold Man. Shrike turned and regarded the avatar, removing his headset and raising a questioning brow.<br><br />
“I’ve picked up a distress call, very faint. It appears to be coming from the next sector over.”<br><br />
With that, he twitched a finger, and a projection appeared in front of Shrike, as though he were looking at a screen in the air. It was a space marine, Shrike couldn’t make out any chapter insignia, but the space marine’s words soon cleared that up:<br><br />
“This is Sergeant Domitian of the Ultramarines 2nd company. Need immediate evac from planet Ajax.”<br />
The Ultramarine looked up, at something past the camera, and faint movement behind him told Shrike that the man was running backwards.<br />
“We have encountered the same creatures that were on Damnos.”<br><br />
Several flashes lit the Ultramarine’s face, seemingly from gunfire:<br><br />
“On-only a few of us left. Thunderhawks destroyed. Hurry-“<br> <br />
The marine’s face contorted with pain, and the transmission broke up. Shrike looked at the Gold Man.<br><br />
“Can you track its source?” A nod.<br><br />
“Set a course, and alert my wing. Tell them to meet me in the starboard hangar bay.” The Gold Man’s avatar fizzled out, and Shrike put his headset back on.<br><br />
“Sorry girl, something’s come up. As usual”<br><br />
“As usual.” The reply sounded hollow.<br><br />
“Perhaps we can continue this face-to-face when I get back?”<br><br />
“I like the sound of that.” Smiling, Shrike switched the headset off, and began hastily re-assembling the plasma rifle.<br><br />
<br />
+++Twenty Minutes later. Starboard Hangar bay+++<br><br />
“Any questions?”<br><br />
The main part of the briefing concluded, Shrike looked at his twelve marines. A servo-arm rose pointedly.<br><br />
“Mhm?”<br><br />
Aloni sat up straighter in his chair and looked around the room, then to Shrike.<br><br />
“Just the twelve of us? Gold Man says that there was half a company that went to Ajax, and there’s only four or five of them left. Shouldn’t we bring some back-up?”<br><br />
Shrike’s reply was instant.<br><br />
“Nah, we’ve faced worse threats than this before.”<br><br />
“Not unknown threats. We’ve never been up against whatever the blueboys have found.”<br><br />
Shrike frowned, and addressed the rest of the marines:<br><br />
“You lot, dismissed. Captain Contrary here can stay.” The rest of the marines filed out, heading for the thunderhawk, whilst Aloni fixed Shrike with a glare that could have stopped a clock ticking. As soon as they were gone, Shrike spoke:<br><br />
“Who would you have me bring? Most of the Chapter’s still in ruins after Garaghak, the rest of the first Company included. The Reclaimed Legions are all being refit at Mars, or pushing the Traitors back to the eye. Who else is left?”<br><br />
Aloni folded his arms.<br><br />
“The Ultramarines. We’re right on the edge of Ultramar, this is one of their operations, I imagine they’re launching rescue operations of their own. We could bring an entire company with us for support.”<br><br />
Shrike was shaking his head before the techmarine had even finished.<br><br />
“Ultramarines? Don’t be daft, they’d just get in the way. That’s assuming they even listen to me.”<br><br />
Aloni glowered:<br><br />
“I know you find this hard to understand Shrike, but you’re not the only one who cares about their men. I accept Sicarius might be a glory-boy twat, but it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve worked with someone you hated. Remember Kor’sarro?”<br><br />
Not wanting to reveal that the techmarine had hit a nerve, Shrike shook his head again.<br><br />
“We’re nearly there by now, anyway. Any help would take too long to arrive.”<br><br />
Aloni stood up, realising that Shrike had already made up his mind. He went to say something, then sighed and left the room.<br> <br />
<br />
+++Planet Ajax+++<br><br />
<br />
Brother Vespasian ducked a bolt of green lightening, and dived behind a piece of twisted metal. He wrestled with the charging handle of his bolter; it had jammed after he had blocked one of the Necron’s bayonets with it. The foul smelling oxide dust that lay in drifts around him had been wreaking havoc with their weapons even before they had encountered the metal monsters. Trying to shut out the sound of another Ultramarine flatlining coming from his vox, Vespasian released the empty clip still in his bolter, and held the bolt back, letting the empty casing fall out the bottom of the gun. He snatched another clip from his belt, jammed it into the bolter and sprinted out of cover, firing behind him as he ran for the shadow of the crashed Thunderhawk. More bolts of green lightening zapped out at him as he ran, but none made contact. Skidding through the dust, he dived into the gloom of the dropship’s cargo bay.<br> <br />
Inside, he could make out the rest of the survivors, all four of them. He ran to the back of the cargo bay, and took position behind an overturned crate. The dropship had crashed on its side, and faint shafts of light were shining through gashes in the dropship’s side, the “ceiling”, relative to them. Laying down his bolter for a second, he drew his gladius from its sheath with one hand, before picking up his bolter again. He looked around at the rest of the Ultramarines, in the gloom he could not tell which was which, but he could see how dire their condition was. Three of them were injured, one severely. The rest looked as if their collective ammunition could be counted in double figures.<br> <br />
“Do not despair, brothers.” He hissed.<br><br />
“The sergeant managed to make the distress call. Help is on its way.”<br><br />
As if the creatures outside had heard him, the sound of marching feet halted. The ultramarines tensed, then the sound of a single pair of feet could be heard. Vespasian braced his bolter against the crate before him, and readied himself. He knew what was coming. The leader of the hordes. The same one which had struck down Sergeant Domitian.<br> <br />
The sound of footsteps grew louder. Fingers tightened on triggers.<br><br />
Tramp<br><br />
Tramp<br><br />
Tramp<br><br />
Something appeared in the mouth of the dropship, and the world turned into a firestorm as the Ultramarines opened fire, lighting up the inside of the dropship, and filling the air with the deafening sound of bolter fire. Vespasian glimpsed the figure moving like a blur around the gunfire, and leaping into the air. Straight for him- The warscythe swatted the bolter out of his hand, dislocating his trigger finger as the weapon spun away. The downwards sweep that would have taken his head from its shoulders was blocked by his gladius. The force of the blow knocked the space marine onto his back, so that he was looking up into the Necron’s metal face. The two blades locked together, the servomotors in Vespasian’s arm squealing as he fought the Necron’s strength. Looking beyond the Necron, Vespasian glimpsed something blocking out the light coming through the holes in the Thunderhawk. A moment later, the roof blew apart with a thunderous sound, revealing the black-painted Thunderhawk hovering above them. The Necron looked up at the sound, and Vespasian took the opportunity to kick it off him, knocking it to the floor.<br> <br />
Shrike leapt from the thunderhawk’s ramp, talons extended, and plummeted into the crashed dropship. He landed between the Ultramarines and the Necron Lord, which had returned to its feet. It glanced at the mouth of the crashed gunship, and more metal figures began streaming in, firing their weapons as they came. Shrike was distracted by one of the Ultramarines losing his head to a blast of green lightning, and nearly lost his own to a swing of the leader’s weapon. Barely able to parry it with his claws, Shrike realised, for the first time in a long time, that he was outmatched. His attention was divided between the lord, and the lightning zapping past his head. He glimpsed the rest of his wing fast-roping down from the Thunderhawk, and taking up firing positions, but they were critically outnumbered by the marching hordes. This distraction almost proved to be fatal, the warscythe slipped beneath his guard and smashed into his chest, not going deep enough to breach the armour, but knocking Shrike off his feet. The robot planted its feet, and swung its warscythe over its head at Shrike, like an axe man at the block. Shrike raised a hand to stop the blow, and the talons on his hand shattered with the force of the blow. Frozen with shock at the loss of the artefact, Shrike was helpless as the Lord wound up for a second swing. As the Warscythe hit the zenith of its swing, the crackling blade of a power axe smashed into the Lord’s midriff, knocking it over backwards:<br><br />
“YOU BLOODY FOOL, SHRIKE!”<br><br />
The techmarine’s roar jerked Shrike out of his trance long enough for him to scramble to his feet, and witness Aloni seize the fallen lord’s feet in his hands. The nearby Verano seized its shoulders, and the two hauled the writhing Necron into the air. Heedless of the crackling green lightening zapping all around them, the two set their feet, and pulled for all they were worth. For a moment, the strange metal of the Necron resisted the augmented strength of the space marines. Then something gave, and the Necron was pulled in two with a shriek of torn metal.<br><br />
Aloni tossed the legs away, and Verano dropped the creature’s torso. The three marines began to run for the few cables still hanging from the open ramp of their Thunderhawk, gauss blasts chasing them all the way. The Ultramarines and the rest of the wing had already returned to the gunship, and were desperately firing into the implacable ranks of the Necrons. Shrike seized his cable first, and was jerked upwards instantly. The other two swiftly followed, joining Shrike on the ramp as the Thunderhawk began to pull away. Inside the crashed gunship, the top half of Vargard Obyron snatched up his warscythe and drew his arm back, taking careful aim.<br> <br />
Only one of the space marines glimpsed the Necron Lord flinging his warscythe at the open ramp of the Thunderhawk. More accurately, at Shrike.<br> <br />
Aloni leapt between Shrike and the spear at the last moment, the ancient warscythe burying itself in his chest.<br> <br />
Shrike stared at his friend, unable to comprehend what was happening. The techmarine looked at Shrike sadly for a second, then tipped backwards, and fell. <br />
Shrike became aware of a scream, as though a man were being torn in two. For a moment, his guts twisted with the thought that his friend was making the sound. Then he realised it was coming from him.<br> <br />
Verano and Branne foresaw what Shrike was about to do, and seized hold of him, pulling backwards as he tried to leap out of the Thunderhawk. Shrike writhed in their arms like an animal as the Thunderhawk gunned its engines.<br><br />
“GO BACK! GO BACK, WE CAN’T LEAVE HIM!”<br><br />
“WE LAND THERE AND WE’LL NEVER TAKE OFF AGAIN!” Roared Verano, fighting his own compulsion to rescue his friend as much as he fought Shrike.<br> <br />
The Space marines tumbled backwards as Shrike went limp in their arms. A moment later, the Thunderhawk rattled as it broke the sound barrier, and made for the Bellerophon, waiting silently in orbit.<br> <br />
<br />
By the time the Thunderhawk had settled into the Bellerophon’s hangar bay, Verano had managed to get Shrike into a chair and strap him down. Since they had left the planet, Shrike had not said a word, merely staring into space. Verano wasn’t sure if he preferred this to screaming hysterics. For their part, the rest of the wing was coping with their grief in a more private manner. They had all known Aloni for as long as Shrike, but the two had been practically inseparable. Verano was jarred out of his musings by the ramp banging down, and light streaming in. The Ultramarines (what few were left, at any rate) were the first to leave, some helping the more wounded members of their party. The Sergeant paused on the threshold, and looked back at the silent Raven Guard. Verano glanced up at him, wondering if the Ultramarine was going to try and be sympathetic. Indeed, the Sergeant seemed about to say something, then he turned and followed his men out into the ship. Verano shook his head, and rose to his feet. He threw a sidelong glance to another of the space marines:<br><br />
“Branne, get them up. We’re no use here.”<br><br />
Not waiting for a response, he strode out of the dropship, squinting in the bright light. As he cast his eyes towards the doorway leading to the rest of the ship, he noticed a small figure with coal-black skin ducking through the doorway to let the Ultramarines past. He sighed, but continued to move towards the doorway, just as the woman started to move towards the landed Thunderhawk. They resolutely kept their gazes fixed on their destinations, until they were walking right past each other. Then Verano reached out and grabbed her arm. The woman jumped, and turned to the space marine, eyes wide and fearful. Verano gave her a shake that was perhaps more violent than necessary and spoke:<br><br />
“Relax, Persephone, I’m not going to hurt you. I need to speak to you.”<br><br />
The woman stopped trying to break the space marine’s hold, but continued glaring up into his face. Without waiting for her to speak, Verano launched into his explanation:<br><br />
“We lost Aloni. I know he and you didn't get along-“<br><br />
“He hated me.” Interrupted Persephone, bluntly:<br><br />
“He told me, to my face, that he thought our relationship was disgusting, and that I didn’t deserve Shrike.”<br><br />
Verano nodded stiffly.<br><br />
“I know. But the fact remains, he and Shrike were close. Nearly as close as you are to him.”<br><br />
He paused for a moment, and Persephone noticed that the marine’s eyes were red, and the skin around them puffy. All of the wing were close friends, she recalled.<br> <br />
“Now that he’s... gone, Shrike is hurting. More than I’ve ever seen him before.”<br><br />
“What do you want me to do about it?”<br><br />
“I don’t know!” Verano snapped, making several of the techpriests attending to the Thunderhawk look up in curiosity. He glared at them until they returned to their tasks, then turned back to Persephone.<br><br />
“Comfort him. Hold him together when he looks about to fall apart.” He sighed.<br><br />
“I don’t know. Perhaps if I did, I could understand how he could love you.” He released her.<br> <br />
“Please. For his sake.”<br><br />
With that, he turned, and was gone.<br><br />
Persephone rubbed at her arm, where the marine’s crushing grip had squeezed the blood out of it. She walked up the ramp of the Thunderhawk, and peered into the dark interior. Her eyes fixed on Shrike, still sitting in his seat, staring at something a thousand yards distant. Then he turned to look at her, and he looked so broken, Persephone’s breath caught in her throat. She took a tentative step into the gunship, then outright sprinted to him, and threw her arms around his neck. For a moment, Persephone felt like she was embracing a statue. Then he hugged her back with enough force her ribs creaked.<br> <br />
For a moment, the two held each other, gently rocking back and forth. Shrike trembled for a moment in her grip, then buried his face in her shoulder, and began to sob.<br />
===Knights-Errant===<br />
He felt completely numb.<br />
<br />
He had spent over six centuries crusading in the Emperor's name, smiting the foul heretics of Chaos alongside Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor Geraldus Thrax. He had fought with courage and honour, as any good Ultramarine was taught to. He never even held an ounce of resentment towards Leandros, that Battle-Brother of his that sent the Inquisition at him in the first place. It was merely a security measure, and it was better to be safe than sorry.<br />
<br />
However, that no longer mattered.<br />
<br />
The Grand Archives of Ultramar, which chronicled the names and deeds of every Ultramarine and their great lineage all the way back to the dawn of the Great Crusade itself, had no records of [[Captain Titus]] of the Second Company. More accurately, there was no records of a Titus at all. He was, effectively, nonexistent. <br/><br />
So dejected by this, he could only sit in place on the shuttle he was in, marching straight to Terra. The only course left was forgiveness and death. There was nothing left. When he felt the shuttle finally land, he had presumed that he had finally entered Terra.<br />
<br />
"So this is the one?" Titus heard voices. They were right outside his door.<br />
"Indeed. Fought loyally by my side, and forgotten by his Chapter. Grave insult, that." This voice belonged to Thrax.<br />
"But...how? You were keeping constant contact with the Chapter, yes?"<br />
"Indeed." Thrax stepped. "I smell something suspicious, but I shall get back to that when I go visit Macragge. For now, you have him."<br />
<br />
The door opened, and he met with a massive hulk of a man, wearing silver terminator armour, bearing medals and seals of purity and a rosette at his right breast. This was an Inquisitor.<br />
<br />
"So, you are Titus?" He asked, his voice thick. The former Captain dully nodded, his numbness still overwhelming.<br />
<br />
"Not much of a talker, is he?" the Terminator-Inquisitor asked.<br />
"Do go easy on him, Domenico. The man has found his life effectively removed from history including his name." Thrax stepped to the side, allowing the Terminator through. <br />
<br />
"Inquisitor Domenico Salvarius, Ordo Malleus," he introduced himself. Titus only looked up with the minimum required effort. "Inquisitor Thrax and I were old classmates in the Schola Progenium on...where was it, Keppanari?"<br/><br />
"Kappanari, indeed." Thrax finished his colleague's thoughts. "Inquisitor Salvarius has found a group for you to join in seeking to fight the Emperor's enemies and this...redemption you seek. We are merely stopping off on Titan because there is someone I wish for you to meet."<br/><br />
"We...are not on Terra?" Titus' dry voice crackled through the helmet, aged and scarred.<br/><br />
"No. We are in Titan," Thrax turned down the question. "Were this any other world, I would accompany you to this meeting myself, but Titan is...well, it is the core stronghold of the Ordo Malleus, and as such, I have no authority here." He extended his hand to the Astartes, his aging face displaying a hint of sorrow. "I suppose this is the end of our journey."<br/><br />
Titus could not bring himself to do anything that even equated to amicability with the Inquisitor. His shame was too powerful to allow him to do that. All he could muster was the sign of the Aquila. Thrax understood, and let Titus through with Salvarius.<br/><br />
<br />
''>Titan''<br />
<br />
"So I hear that you are an Ultramarine, yes?" Salvarius opened up as soon as they made landfall.<br/><br />
"Was," Titus flatly corrected. "No longer."<br/><br />
"I do admit..." He commented, "I do find the situation upon this to be rather...suspicious. I mean, you get replaced by your own chapter, your own life essentially gone? How does one even gather the authority to even try this?"<br/><br />
"It matters little," the Astartes replied. "I am no longer worthy."<br/><br />
Salvarius placed his hand upon Titus' shoulder. "I...do not think so."<br />
<br />
The two were eventually met by another Astartes, bearing a faded white armour with shades of green on his pauldrons.<br />
<br />
"Inquisitor Salvarius. So I suppose that this is..."<br/><br />
"Former Captain Titus of the Ultramarines," Salvarius introduced the Ultramarine. "I am hoping that you have found our archives useful. I have already let far more than enough people access this planet between you and the Red King, so I would hope that there is an end to all this."<br />
"Indeed. I am satisfied, and the last of our equipment has arrived on Luna."<br/><br />
Titus was growing suspicious by the mention of the Red King, a kneejerk reaction from his training. The other Astartes then extended his hand to the Ultramarine. "Ah, yes, I should introduce myself. I am Captain Nathaniel Garro of the Death Guard and it appears that I have become something of an unsung hero in this age. Something I see that you share as well." Titus cautiously took his hand.<br />
<br />
''>Luna''<br />
<br />
Titus and Garro went to a fortress and entered a room with a round table in the middle. Aside from the three seats (One beating the Inquisitorial insignia, marking it as Salvarius' chair) that were empty, the other seats occupied a captain in teal armour with an eye on the left pauldron, an impatient warrior in blue and red armour, an Astartes in black armour save for a single green pauldron, a warrior in red armour whose eyes looked shut, a scout in almost entirely white armour with heavy-set eyes, a warrior in steel armour with servo arms protruding from his back, and a dark-grey warrior, reading a book. They all looked at the two walking in.<br />
<br />
"So, Garro," The teal-armoured captain asked, "This is our last member? The fabled un-person of the Ultramarines?"<br/><br />
"Titus, this shall be your new team," Garro showed the table.<br/><br />
The Teal one began, "Good to see you. Name's Garviel Loken, Captain of the Tenth Company of the Sons of Horus. If Garro can be called the team's heart, then I guess you can call me the face."<br/><br />
"Macer Varren, World Eaters. Whatever happened, I don't care, so long as I can find a better use for my fury."<br/><br />
"Chaplain Asa'Marr of the Salamanders. I was sent by my Primarch to spread this message the moment he heard of it."<br/><br />
"Iah Sakhar, Cult Corvidae Librarius cohort. I wish to see more of this future."<br/><br />
"Sergeant Migisi, of what you once called the Eleventh Legion. We gather, and we seek answers."<br/><br />
"Warsmith Steigal, Fourty-First Grand Company."<br/><br />
"And I am Esyrol of the Word Bearers, here to guide us towards our Great Goal."<br />
<br />
Titus was still not very capable of understanding what was before him, but the bombardment of names of forces he was taught to hate had managed to snap as he realized, "You...you are all traitors!"<br />
<br />
"To be fair," the Thousand Son interjected, "None of us technically have betrayed the Imperium yet, and we are here to prove that it stays that way."<br/><br />
"And to be precise," the Chaplain added on, "The Salamanders were just as loyal to the Emperor as the Ultramarines during the Heresy."<br/><br />
"This whole alternate timeline business is a rather confusing thing, I must say," Garro concluded. "To find the entire Imperium being turned upside down because of this is even a bit disheartening."<br />
<br />
"And I am..." Titus tried to make some sort of stand. He tried to reach for a chainsword, but there was no longer one. A bolt pistol that no longer was holstered. Not even a knife was in his possession. "a faithful..." A step in any direction that could put him in an advantageous position. "son... of..." He prepared himself for some sort of charge, but the moment he lowered himself, he collapsed. "Terra, what am I doing...? I am no longer a Captain. I can no longer even be called an Ultramarine...!"<br />
<br />
"Does this mean that you are..." Migisi asked, "One of those Death-Watch Black-Shields I have heard of?"<br/><br />
"Hardly," The Chaplain responded. "A Blackshield would not have had his entire life so thoroughly obliterated. Besides, Salvarius is not Ordo Xenos. They are the only ones with full authority in the Deathwatch. I had a brother in the Reclusiam who served there."<br />
<br />
Titus was still in agony, realizing just how raw a wound that revelation left. He had tried to pay for it with every pint of blood he could find in the veins of the enemies as well as his own, but none of it made it go away. Courage and Honour were all that mattered to an Ultramarine, and now he had neither. His hearts felt strained, his eyes felt as if they were on fire. <br />
<br />
"Come now, brother," Garro seemed alarmed. "This may seem to be a troubling affair, but I do have a feeling that there is much more to this than just what befell you." Titus could only rise wordlessly and then join the others on the table, sitting between the Son of Thunder and the Word Bearer.<br />
<br />
"So what is the point of all this?" Warsmith Steigal asked. "If this is just a counseling group, then I have already wasted too much time."<br/><br />
"Ah, good of you to remind me," Garro noticed as he went to his seat. "The organization we are now part of was originally found by me in this timeline some hundred thousand years ago during the Horus Heresy. Apparently, we were organized by the great Malcador to... How did he put it...?"<br />
<br />
"The Knights-Errant was the organization ordered by Malcador the Sigilite in order to gather those Astartes of exceptional purity to become the forerunners of the Ordo Malleus' Chamber Militant and the Inquisition as a whole." Salvarius stepped in with dataslate in hand. "However, we cannot be them. No, your goal is something less...prophetic, I should say."<br/><br />
The World Eater was not so amused, "So we stay on prison-watch?"<br/><br />
"Hardly," Loken interrupted Varren.<br />
<br />
"Our mission," Garro clarified, "is more as ambassadors of goodwill. There are those of us who hail from legions which you seem to know as Traitor Legions. We are forming these Knights-Errant in order to show that we are loyal to the Imperium and that we are no traitors."<br />
<br />
"But then...why me?"<br/><br />
"Because you mirror the same story of our own, good Captain," Loken answered. "Rescued from the ruins of an utter warzone, outcast by your kin, it mirrors the story of old. However, the circumstances of your arrival are a lot less...lucid than I would think possible from Ultramarines of all folk."<br/><br />
"And if I am to be frank, good sir," Garro added, "I have a feeling of kinship with you. You do not act in vanity, but in mere duty, yes? Duty above Honour, if I were to use your terminology."<br/><br />
"You are aware of the many changes of the Imperium," Iah observed, turning to Titus. "The universe has changed much for most of us, and we need someone on the inside,who can inform us of the many new terrors the Imperium has come to face."<br/><br />
"And we are to do this...alone?" Titus was growing incredulous.<br/><br />
"We are not merely warriors," the Scout commented. "We are now diplomats, meant to show our finest to the citizens. Some of us will always be more valuable in war, but we will not solely be in that theater."<br />
<br />
Salvarius started up a projection on the center of the table, displaying the symbol of the Sigilite.<br/><br />
"Very well, if that is all sorted out, I do have a matter I believe that can be a worthwhile test-bed for your new-found force. The planet of Allentes has fallen under a suspicion of disloyalty to the Emperor. I will attempt to hold the situation in my hands as long as I can, but do beware that there may be some...unwelcome assistance that may be possible."<br/><br />
"More Ultramarine Showboaters?" Varren snarled.<br/><br />
"Stormtroopers?" Migisi asked.<br/><br />
"Sororitas." The answer seemed a little unusual to the members, but Esyrol was actually rather pleased at the news.<br/><br />
"Which Order?"<br />
"Order of the Eternal Icon."<br/><br />
The Word Bearer smiled. "They will be no trouble. We have journeyed with them before."<br/><br />
"Well that leaves one potential complication out of the way," the Inquisitor mused. "Regardless, you will be deployed by shuttle as to avoid rousing suspicions. While there, I do have some agents acting as my eyes and ears, so as to keep you appraised of the situation. Your goal is to find the cause of this change in faith and ensure that it ends."<br />
<br />
''>Allentes''<br />
<br />
The landing spot the shuttle chose left the team in an open expanse of the landing pad, largely apart from the city some distance away. At the location was an Arbite with a Rhino readied for them.<br/><br />
"I presume you lot are with the good Inquisitor Salvarius?" he asked. Loken and Garro confirmed this and they got transported over to the main city. Here, the new Knights-Errant picked a small den to formulate a strategy.<br />
<br />
"I will take Titus with me," Asa'Marr opened. "We will take the public route. Neither of our Legions have been placed under suspicion, not to mention the fact that the Captain looks like he needs some sort of normalcy."<br/><br />
"Stop coddling the weakling," Macer growled. "I can take to the pits. Maybe I can find something within the underworld."<br/><br />
"I am going to find any signals of the Sororitas," Esyrol mentioned.<br/><br />
Similarly, Steigal added, "And I will go see how the Mechanicus factor into this."<br/><br />
Migisi then grabbed a Cameleoline cloak that was laid out. "I will be taking with Captain Varren. Not for any mistrust, mind, but to ensure that I can be harder to see than a berserker." The World Eater snarled in his direction.<br/><br />
Iah sighed. "I suppose that leaves me then. I shall see how the Warp acts, and I will inform you from there."<br/><br />
Garro and Loken both agreed on this and the Knights-Errant began their journey.<br />
<br />
"So, Captain," The Chaplain tried to begin a conversation with Titus, "What...exactly happened that caused...well, what happened?"<br/><br />
"Graia happened." Titus tried to gather his will. "Orks attacked. I was sent there with a team to save the Guardsmen there, and then...Chaos."<br/><br />
"Chaos?" The Salamander was curious by that. "As in, you were tempted by them? I admit, that is a powerful thing to resist, but how does doing so-"<br/><br />
"Not their promises. Never would I dare." Titus almost sounded like he was mad, but he just did not. "But the leader there...I could resist his touch. Where my brothers fell, I was able to fight on. One of them claimed that such was grounds of heresy."<br/><br />
"Heresy? That's ludicrous!" The Chaplain remarked. "I admit, that would be more than unexpected, but how does a resistance to the warp equate to corruption? At most, that should have been a matter for the Librarians. There has to be something beyond this. What else?"<br/><br />
"A power source. Everyone wanted it. Drogan, the Orks, the Heretics...and I could break it so easily."<br/><br />
"Warp-based, I presume?" He nodded. "Figures."<br/><br />
"After I broke it, I found out that my brother had summoned the Inquisition upon me. I had to follow him or allow my entire company and Lieutenant Mira to be destroyed."<br/><br />
"And you placed their lives over your own, just for this to happen... This clearly is not just an action of your doing. And I know that it will change." The Rhino stopped. The two were at the Arbites Outpost.<br />
<br />
Titus and Asa'Marr met with Chief Intelligencer Karl Formaz. Formaz had primed them on the situation as far as legal matters were concerned: There was a powerful Apostate that was somehow influencing his will over the planet, but this town was the core of his operations.<br />
<br />
Normally, the Adeptus Arbites would have had all the authority they would need in order to storm the place and kill this traitor, but the problem was that he had influenced practically the entire populace. Any attacks would require them to wade through a horde of citizens and the Arbites have been undermanned. However, Adeptus Astartes were far more than mere arbitrators, and their position as the literal progeny of the Emperor would definitely give them leverage on getting even a few of these people back. The Intelligencer then handed them the address of the PDF base, the last organization that had been able to resist this faithless talker.<br />
<br />
"Why are you here?" Titus asked on the ride to the PDF base. "You are no traitor to the Emperor. So why?"<br/><br />
"Because this is an age where those borders of loyalist and traitor have become much...broader in recent years." The Chaplain removed his helmet, revealing the short buzzcut of graying hair upon his obsidian skin. "This is an age where Gods and men coexist and where there is finally a glimmer of hope that the Imperium can return to greatness."<br/><br />
"So optimistic...?"<br/><br />
"Would it be optimism when there literally has been proof of those gods walking? I was personally sent here by Vulkan himself for Terra's sake. There is no way you can mistake the very father to your legion!" Titus paused and cocked his head. "You mean...you had not heard of this? Not even the Primarchs coming to Terra to save her from a madman?" Titus nodded. "What a terrible time to have been in transit."<br/><br />
The former Ultramarine mused, "If...the Primarchs truly are back, do you think...?"<br/><br />
"I would think so," Asa'Marr responded. "They have made it more of a matter to restore some transparency to the Imperium, so I would be far from surprised if one of them decided to look into your case."<br/><br />
Titus paused for a while. "Thank you."<br/><br />
"I am merely a servant of the Emperor, as are we all. Faith is but my station."<br />
<br />
The PDF was stationed on the far side of the city, on the opposite side of the landing pad. Here, they were meeting with Colonel Phell, the head of the Allentan forces.<br />
<br />
"Lord Astartes, I am honoured by your presence!" The Colonel, a weedy man decorated in medals more suited for a man at least twice his size. "Colonel Phell, Commander of the Allentan PDF. I'm hoping you are here to deal with this Lord Shaytan business."<br/><br />
"Indeed we are," the Chaplain introduced his forces, "I am Chaplain Asa'Marr, and besides me is Captain Titus."<br/><br />
"An Ultramarine, of all things! We are truly blessed!" Titus was about to voice an objection on his former status before the Chaplain ordered him to let it be. "Ah, follow me, follow me. I can probably better inform you about the story in a better way than the Arbites can."<br />
<br />
Phell explained that this Shaytan was a very wealthy landowner who had come to control the importing trade. Anyone who wanted anything merely had to request it from the traders and they would satisfy it quickly. That in itself is little cause for alarm, but the issue was how much of the profit they took for themselves. Soon sire Shaytan claimed himself a tax-exempt citizen, exploiting a little-known legal loophole to keep the Arbites from enforcing anything on them. Following that, he became more ambitious: Not only was he delivering an exorbitant amount of imports, which he would then spread to those in his employ alone, but then rumours spread about a certain "Client Loyalty" program affording them amenities even the loftiest of positions could hardly afford. Soon enough, Shaytan gained a loyal army of customers, all following this one trader, and his work was completely legal from the outside. Even inside, there was no sight of impropriety, as there was an almost insane amount of transparency about the company's workings. That would be something that the Adeptus Astartes would be able to circumvent, by force if need be.<br />
<br />
As for the Sororitas, they would come within the next week to act as the military force, the Colonel himself having been a close friend to a powerful Prioress within the Order of the Eternal Icon who was very likely to take the position of Canoness as soon as she could. However, the two let the Word Bearer deal with that, for the Sororitas would apparently recognize him.<br />
<br />
As soon as they left the Colonel, Asa'Marr opened up a Vox link to Captain Garro.<br/><br />
"We have a story and a means to enter."<br/><br />
"Splendid show, brother." Garro remarked. "Where is our target supposed to be?"<br/><br />
"He owns the only importing business in the planet, and apparently has enough money to afford his own complex. The only people resisting against whatever he has offered were the PDF and the Arbites higher-ups."<br/><br />
"Well, that will do. Loken has started looking at this rather large complex where he found this gaggle of citizens just filing in, all bearing this sideways chevron on their breast."<br/><br />
"That might be it. We will be there to investigate." Titus snapped in.<br/><br />
"Ah, that would indeed help. Garro out."<br />
<br />
As they embarked on the Rhino, Asa'Marr remarked, "It seems that you have something to offer yet..."<br />
<br />
When they arrived, Garro started, "Good to see you. Loken is stationed at the chapel itself, listening in from one of the side-brushes, but there are guards that are being a bit too...suspicious."<br/><br />
"We do not kill them," Titus stated. "We still know too little about this matter. Killing them would draw too much attention on us and they would know who we are."<br/><br />
"Well said, but how will we..."<br/><br />
Titus grabbed a can rolling down the street. "Let me handle with that."<br />
<br />
He peered around the corner of their wall to find the entryway guarded by a couple of guards, looking rather weakly armoured and toting only stubbers. He threw the can right in front of their path, making a loud noise to attract their attention. They never saw the Astartes knock them out.<br />
Thus incapacitated, the three now had a clear route of access to join the Captain.<br/><br />
"Good to see you taking some initiative," Loken greeted them. "What do we know?"<br/><br />
"Whoever is leading this group is an affiliate of the Shaytan group," Asa'Marr filled the Captain in. "He effectively bought the populace's loyalty using his control of the import market, and in doing so is legally untouchable."<br/><br />
"Well, from what I can decipher, this man is doing equal parts sales pitching and preaching, so I can buy that."<br/><br />
Titus asked, "But what is their goal?"<br/><br />
"He was running something of an auction. There were goods on that table, and people were wagering. But there was also some promises of special...Packages, was it? Privileges and such."<br/><br />
"He is bartering their favour. Then this is merely a possible front like all the others the Arbites have. discovered"<br/><br />
"Seems we have our next course of action settled then," Garro commanded the group. "We wait for the place to empty out before we go investigate."<br />
<br />
The chapel eventually let out and the rabble of the city eventually dispersed among themselves. Among this crowd was also the four Astartes, keeping their heads low enough to maintain their cover. As soon as they made it in, they begun sneaking behind the pews, finding only a preacher there, finishing whatever goodbyes he made and preparing to leave. Titus peered over the edge to find the cardinal grabbing a knife, but not use it on himself. Soon enough he too left, and now the Knights-Errant could finally begin their investigations.<br />
<br />
Their first key target was the altar. Nothing too unusual, none of the symbolism too unnatural save for a particular preference for blue and gold. There was also the patterned skulls, covered in some unnatural runes. Titus did not feel comfortable.<br/><br />
"Would you happen to realize this?"<br/><br />
Titus stepped back. "I am only hoping that I may be wrong." However, this would only be one piece. There had to be more to this.<br />
<br />
They entered the left doorway to find the personal offices of a few pastors. None of them seemed to ring any bells, and they all seemed to hold a reverence of sorts to the Imperium. All, it seemed, except for the head cardinal. His room was more rife with strange arcane glyphs lined on his desk, most matching the ones on the altar. There was also a circular mat on the floor, usually covered by a chair for guests. This mad had no sigils, but what it did have was the same blue and gold colours. But perhaps the most unnatural artefact there was a skull of what looked to be an Eldar, crystallized and, upon looking at it from an angle, looking like it was screaming in agony. The four then began feeling around for a false wall when Titus found one at the back of the room, concealed by a banner confirming the church's fealty to the Emperor. This clearly was a front, and now they would figure out what it was.<br />
<br />
The chambers smelled dank with the stench of rotting meat and blood. As they walked, they felt the path taking a slide down. They stepped down to find something akin to a dungeon, but nobody present. The only things even different with the area were a pair of skeletons chained to the wall. At the far end of the room was a pile of rocks, almost a head taller than the Astartes.<br/><br />
While Loken and Asa'Marr investigated the skeletons, Garro began communicating with anyone he could while Titus began looking through the pile. There had to be something here, hidden among the rocks. He found something from that: A robe, much different than his normal robes and bearing a much darker coloration when compared to his ordinary robes. More unsettling was the mask that was found with it, a half-mask whose visage looked almost like... Titus shook his head. No, this mask could not possibly be the same. That person was dead. He looked again.<br/><br />
Loken managed to find a locking mechanism using one of the skeletons. Behind it was a book. <br />
"This book..." Loken commented as he felt around the hide-bound skin, "This book is far from normal." He noticed an eye on it, unblinking but definitely lifelike. There were also teeth lined along the lip of the book.<br/><br />
"We destroy it then. Better we staunch the flow of corruption from here." <br />
<br />
Garro was about to prepare his power sword for that when he dodged a las-shot by pure luck.<br/><br />
"I cannot let you do that." It was the Cardinal, and he had some new guards with him, eight in total. "That book is my guide. My willpower."<br/><br />
"What this book is is heresy." Garro lowered his sword. "We cannot let it corrupt any further."<br/><br />
Titus prepared his chainsword for battle. The Cardinal asked, "Why? Why would you do this to our order? We are giving them a life they desire, one outside of the government's feeble ability!"<br/><br />
"What you give them," Asa'Marr retorted, his single-handed hammer powered, "is corruption. You lie to these people, to subvert them to your slavery."<br />
"Then what of you?" the Cardinal asked. "Are you not slaves of the Emperor?"<br/><br />
"No. We are his sons. We were chosen to become far more than men."<br />
<br />
The Cardinal gave the order and the guards opened fire. Sadly, their choice in armament was in poor choice, for the lasguns merely bounced off of Titus' power armour as he tore through the guards.<br/><br />
"Your mark... You are the enemy...!" The Cardinal raised a sword. He tried to attack the Ultramarine, but before he could, the Chaplain leveled his head.<br/><br />
"Well," Loken commented as he disposed of the book. "if anyone here doubted the presence of heresy on this planet before, they will have none now."<br />
<br />
The four escaped and returned back to the safehouse where they first arrived and ordered everyone else to join them.<br />
<br />
"So, heresy. Like we did not know already," Varren grumbled, his own search having been largely fruitless.<br/><br />
"A sorcerer among them..." Iah surmised. "Whoever it is, they are still weak, but they are gaining a foothold."<br />
<br />
"What did you see?"<br/><br />
"A slowly-enveloping claw. Massive and hungry."<br/><br />
Garro kept with the reports. "We can tie that in later. Varren, Migisi?"<br/><br />
"The Underworld has just as much of it overrun by this Shaytan as the rest of the planet." The Scout filled in. "What disturbed me most though was the complete...serenity of the populace. No crimes to be seen, no ghettos run by homeless people. They were all merely...content."<br/><br />
"Considering he runs the planet, he probably has spread his Customer Loyalty program there as well. Steigal?"<br/><br />
"The Mechanicus have been supplying the Shaytan group with technology through legal means," the Warsmith droned. "Though he has bought some of the Magi's trust with the discovery of an STC on a powerful generator, the chief Magos has voiced his own suspicions. Any further proof would sway his opinion."<br/><br />
"The Sororitas are on their way here, due within the week," Esyrol began. "From what Astropathic messages I had access to, the Prioress in charge has had her eye on this Shaytan person for a while. She was also showing interest in a Colonel Phell."<br/><br />
"They were old comrades," Asa'Marr added in. "They went to the same branch of the Schola."<br/><br />
"Perhaps, but the way the messages ended seemed a touch too...personal, maybe."<br/><br />
"If that is everything," Loken reined the team in. "We have discovered the use of heretical items behind closed doors. Dark magic, and a tome."<br/><br />
Iah piped up. "What did it bear?"<br/><br />
"Teeth along the edge, an unblinking eye. Also, along the spine was this golden runic language. There was a half of a mask as well."<br/><br />
The Thousand Son nodded. "Not what I was thinking, then."<br/><br />
Garro noticed Titus' anticipation, "Titus, I see you have something to add to this affair."<br/><br />
"This whole case," Titus warily mentioned, "It bears the stench of an enemy I had thought dead and gone. I killed him personally on Graia." The team turned to him. "His name was [[Nemeroth]], and his face is nearly identical to that mask's."<br />
<br />
"A face mutilated like that? Seriously?" Varren mocked the idea.<br/><br />
"He was a powerful sorcerer. He was on Graia to find a...warp power source."<br/><br />
Asa'Marr started to gather the pieces. "The same power source that...?" Titus nodded. "It is coming together. He must have somehow noticed your powers and tried to persuade you."<br/><br />
"I could resist his warp-sorcery. He wanted to learn more bout it. When last I faced him, he was making a pact with his gods and he...changed..."<br />
"A...Daemon Prince?" Garro was surprised. "I say!"<br/><br />
"There is no way you, YOU of all people, could have killed a Daemon!" Varren added in with incredulity.<br/><br />
"I am not sure if it was my doing or if the source aided me," Titus concluded, "But whatever the case, he was killed."<br/><br />
Iah then commented, "But a daemon does not die as simply as you and I. You may have slain his body, but given the proper resources, he will return."<br/><br />
"Then we have our next objective: We ensure that this Nemeroth stays in the Warp with his foul gods." Loken took the lead, while Titus followed. "Worry not, brother. We will get to the bottom of this."<br />
<br />
The next task for the Knights-Errant was to seek out the main facility of Shaytan's imports. Whatever was in there, it had to tie into the matter of Nemeroth's coming.<br />
<br />
That night, the facility was empty. The Astartes had little difficulty sneaking in, incapacitating the guards and then allowing a crack squad of Adeptus Arbites to break in and start their own search for forbidden paraphernalia. They looked at the main storehouse, a massive tower as tall as it was wide.<br />
"So our answer might be here?"<br/><br />
"Just maybe," Garro started ordering the team to split up and begin their own search for any more blasphemous material tying to the Daemon Prince.<br />
<br />
Titus found himself teamed with Steigal in looking at the control arrays in the bottom level, taking a lift down.<br />
<br />
"I do not trust you and your sentiment." the Warsmith warned him.<br/><br />
"At least I hope this will not interfere with what we are doing."<br/><br />
"Unless you get in the way, no. There should be a servo-skull or some other scanning device that should be in the work-station downstairs. Either of those should be helpful for what I am planning." The lift stopped. "Do not try anything idiotic. Leave the dealing with me."<br/><br />
They stepped out to find the security room empty. Any closed-circuit feeds were running, but it was so late that the tech-workers here most likely left for home.<br/><br />
"We are in," the Iron Warrior intoned on his vox. He then turned to the door to the right of where they entered, pointing to the feeds. "Keep a watch. I do not want any surprises befalling any of these fools."<br />
<br />
It did not take long before Steigal returned, at his side a servo-skull with an auspex mounted in its mouth. "We leave. This skull has with it a pre-programmed map of the storage zone."<br />
<br />
True to his word, the Warsmith found a secret locked door, hidden by a stockpile of empty crates. However, when he could not open it either by hand or with his servo-arms, it rested with the Ultramarine to make the push. Titus wedged his chainsword in an opening the Warsmith made and began pushing. The combined might of two Astartes, as well as two servo-arms, managed to wrench the door open and behind it was...a bunch of armed guards, this time with lasguns and a grenade launcher.<br/><br />
"Thought there was someone snooping around when we heard that Cardinal Smerrin was reported missing..."<br/><br />
"Now put down the weapons," Titus began to reason. "We are here to find something of grave importance. If we do not find it soon-"<br/><br />
"A beatdown? Well, you found your place!" The troops lined their sights. "Open fire."<br />
<br />
In the distance, Titus was able to see a white sniper on the upper floors.<br/><br />
"A sniper? Get him!" The Guardsmen were foolish to focus on Migisi, though, as that left them open to assault by Titus' chainsword and Steigal's servo-arms. None of them were able to even stop the two.<br />
<br />
The last of the occupants of this facility was a beleaguered spy of the Inquisitor's, hoping to solve the case as best he could.<br/><br />
"Oh dear God-Emperor please don't kill me!"<br/><br />
"We have had enough killing," Titus extended his hand. "What we want now are answers. Has there been any reports of blasphemous rituals? Faith centering around a certain individual by the name Nemeroth?"<br/><br />
"You recognize that face?" The acolyte calmed down. He began leading them into the facility. "I was not sure what that was meant to be, but if it is a person, then that begins making sense. Is this Nemeroth..."<br/><br />
"Daemon."<br/><br />
"Oh... Oh my." The Acolyte led them to a holding cell where a small squad of arbitrators were locked up in order to silence their claims. As they broke out, the Acolyte then commented, "These people, they were locked in here to ensure that the law could not come to them. And if they're summoning a daemon of all things, then Terra knows what happens to those they decide to take away..." Unfortunately, there was nothing else in this hidden room, making it only a special prison and pool for sacrifices.<br />
<br />
"I think I found another secret of theirs!" The two heard Varren shout through his vox. "They seem to really like dying if this secret is that valuable!" <br/><br />
Steigal and Titus rushed over to find the World Eater cutting through another horde, this time wearing more unusual clothes. Some had masks with skulls on them, and others had armour marked with the eight-pointed star. They were guarding their own room, which did not have any prisoners, but what it did have was a stockpile of weapons, all looking made locally made. <br />
<br />
"A storage room for their militia then? Allow me to correct that," Steigal then took his time crushing the guards' weapons with his servo-arms while Varren and Titus continued to follow the Servo-Skull to the next location.<br />
<br />
This next hiding spot was in the break room, hidden under the tables and immovable so long as they were still there. By breaking them, Varren revealed that this chute led to another dungeon, filled with more dead prisoners. On the walls, engraved in the bricks was what looked like a message. "There be heretics here."<br />
"It has become clear to me that this detour was a complete waste of my time," Varren then climbed upward, using his chainaxe to give him some grip. Following him, Titus dug into the chute with his chainsword.<br/><br />
"Are you always this...impatient?" Titus asked as they climbed up.<br/><br />
"I am here because I seek to kill traitors. A scavenger hunt for a cult is practically a misuse of my given talents."<br/><br />
"And learning something more is out of the question?"<br/><br />
Varren stopped and glared at the Ultramarine. "Watch your mouth. You keep talking like that, and know that what happens next will be entirely your fault."<br />
<br />
The two then split up as Titus began looking for Esyrol and Asa'Marr, who were looking at another end to see where Shaytan himself might be hiding. He found the two preachers in what appeared to be the main entryway with a massive staircase in the back, between them a pile of beaten guards.<br/><br />
"Unable to stand that brute, are we?" the Word Bearer playfully asked. The three of them made for the grand staircase, taking the left side and beginning to systematically investigating each of these rooms.<br />
<br />
As they were on this route, Titus heard Loken through the vox: "Everyone, meet me at my location. I think...this is something big in our case. He has a big something planned here."<br/><br />
Titus was growing worried. What more could possibly be wrong besides a possibly returning Daemon Prince?<br />
<br />
When they arrived, everyone gathered saw a massive diary, gilded and bound in many locks.<br />
"This...oh no..." Iah uttered.<br/><br />
Loken asked, "You understand what this means?"<br/><br />
"I do. The Warp is twisting. He is breaking loose!"<br/><br />
Steigal then asked, "Where?"<br/><br />
Another sensing of the warp, and the psyker pointed. "I have a lock. Quickly, before it gets too unreadable!"<br/><br />
<br />
As they ran, Titus began remembering the events of Graia. He remembered the daemon that masqueraded as Inquisitor Drogan, the man who set him up. He remembered that Ork Warboss who refused to give up, even when bested by Nemeroth. But what made him hurt the most was the fact that Sidonus, a dear friend and comrade of his, paid the price of death for the mistakes Titus may have made that day.<br />
<br />
Never again, he resolved. Never again would he allow a battle-brother to die on his watch, so long as he had the strength to even move a finger. He no longer had anything to lose, so even if he were to die, it would be used to protect his team at all costs.<br />
<br />
"The power is strongest here, but...we lack a door." Varren quickly invalidated the Thousand Son's concern as he used his chainaxe to force a way through to the wall with brute force. As they pushed forth, they began noticing more distortions throughout the area. Fires of multiple hues began to burn while the pieces of tile that lined the floor began to lift off the floor and float in midair, suspended by strings. While the rest of the team began to find it hectic to avoid each of these powers, Titus was striding forward, the fires doing little to mar either his armour or his spirit. He had an iron resolve to see this through, and he would finish off Nemeroth if he had to, even at the cost of his life.<br />
<br />
They broke open the door to find a stocky man levitating, the many powers of the Warp swirling like a maelstrom around him. Lightning was striking around him in crackling blasts and a horrid howling filled the room as wind whipped around.<br />
<br />
The Knights-Errant buckled down, none of them even able to resist the blowing gusts. Sensing their time running out, Steigal then dug a servo-arm into the wall while he grabbed his Inferno Pistol. One precision shot reduced the sorcerer's torso into a flaming ruin, and from there the limbs began getting sucked in.<br />
Without a focus, the powers of the Warp began becoming more unstable, as the summoning circle that was being used was being twisted by the powers, lightning becoming more unstable. Seeing a book that looked like it served as a centering point for the summoned powers, but without a stable way out, the daemons within that rift, crying for release, were now clawing for a way out. Unprepared, the others were assaulted, unable to defend themselves without releasing their grips.<br />
<br />
This left only Titus.<br />
<br />
His purpose renewed, he started the arduous task of marching through the storm, despite the unbearable conditions that the storm brought about. Lightning struck at him, but he kept marching. Daemons clawed at him, cutting through his armour, but his willpower forced him onwards. The very wind pushed him back and for every foot it pushed him back, he stomped forward another two, his resolve forcing him further. When he finally reached the accursed tome, he grabbed his chainsword and deftly slammed it into the book, tearing it apart and ending the portal.<br />
<br />
That was not the end, however.<br />
<br />
"Ahhhhh," a voice whispered, unseen by anyone. "Titussssss, is that...you? It has been so long since our last battle..."<br/><br />
"Not long enough if I can help it..." Titus gritted his teeth.<br/><br />
"Is that...any way to treat an old friend, brother?"<br/><br />
"We were NOT brothers!" He declared as he gathered his strength. "I am not a heretic."<br/><br />
"And yet...what has befallen you? I heard that you and your chapter have been experiencing...difficulties around you..."<br/><br />
"Then so be it. An Astartes does not need their Chapter to defend their honour, only his own weapons."<br/><br />
"Then what have you, if your precious honour is gone?"<br/><br />
Titus looked to the new team he had with him, to Captain Garro and Captain Loken, who accepted him with no reservations, to Chaplain Asa'Marr, whose wisdom gave Titus the strength to grapple his own doubts, to Captain Varren, whose brute strength inspired him to fight as well. He had his answer.<br />
<br />
"Only a fool would claim that their honour would be lost like this. Even if I am no Ultramarine, I am an Adeptus Astartes, and I am the Emperor's Chosen. My honour lies in that before anything else."<br/><br />
The vile voice could only chuckle.<br/><br />
"How...amusing. Live on with that false sense of pride, Titus. I still own the souls of these people, and I will return one day." His voice began to fade. "Pray that you are prepared for that moment..."<br />
<br />
"I must say, I was expecting far worse..." The Death Guard commented as he investigated the now useless circle.<br/><br />
"It is for the best for these people." Iah had gained enough of a sense to stand back up properly. "The daemon is stuck in the Warp for now."<br />
<br />
The book was immediately obliterated and the entire complex levelled as it was confirmed that the summoner was actually the trader Shaytan. Although their leader was dead, the cult still offered resistance, the grip of Chaos too strong on them. In the coming days, the entire empire collapsed, but with the help of the Order of the Eternal Icon, the transition was less troublesome. The Sororitas took to restoring faith in the people, while the Arbites and the PDF were enforcing the law with a renewed zeal. In here, the Knights-Errant still had a role, hunting down the last vestiges of heresy from the planet and protecting their hard-earned victory against Nemeroth.<br />
<br />
Titus was called a hero for his bravery, being able to face down the blasphemous ritual and conquer it. Where he had thought his gift as some sort of curse, only assuaged by Inquisitor Thrax as a gift of the Emperor to battle the enemies of the Emperor. But to see his Brothers openly thank him for his gift instead of fear him like the Black Templars Thrax had as a retinue, that was what finally convinced Titus that he had something of worth to the Imperium.<br />
<br />
"Some trial by fire, eh?" Loken sat by the Ultramarine as they watched the PDF on a parade route. At the front was Colonel Phell, being held rather uncomfortably close by the Prioress of the Order of the Eternal Icon, which gave a rather amused laugh by Esyrol.<br/><br />
"It is...invigorating to have a purpose again." <br/><br />
Loken sighed. "We take that for granted way too often."<br />
<br />
They were watching the parade when he saw a particular woman within the PDF, hair hidden in a near ponytail under her helmet. Titus almost forgot for a moment, but he could not forget the Lieutenant he helped back on Graia. Suddenly, he realized something uncomfortable in his helmet. He then took it off, finally, after several hundred years of wearing it as penitence.<br />
<br />
He realized that he had begun growing a beard or faint gray. His hair was also far longer and more disheveled than how he remembered it.<br/><br />
Garro stepped in to realize Titus' appearance. "I say, Titus. You look like you need a good shave!"<br/><br />
He smiled. "We will have time to do that before we get deployed again...Captain."<br/><br />
The two captains smiled. Titus was here to stay as a Knight-Errant.<br />
<br />
Regardless of whether or not Titus may ever recover his history, he had a new history here.<br />
<br />
===The Case of the Tau Empire===<br />
====Prelude to Something Bigger====<br />
''>CHARON-CLASS ORDO XENOS LISTENING POST IN THE DAMOCLES GULF''<br />
<br />
Adept Cestus rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand, and glanced at the chronometer on the wall. Only twenty minutes left on his shift! A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought of the pretty blonde who served at the small station's cramped refectory. Maybe he would ask her to supper when her shift ended...<br />
A squawk of xenos gibberish through his earpiece made him wince, snapping him back to reality. He groaned as the Tau language rattled around his head, the xenos communications had been growing more and more strange lately, the usual clipped tones becoming more and more guttural. <br><br />
"Send 300 hundred units to Sa'cea. The warriors there will need the sacrifices to the Blood God."<br><br />
Cestus froze. His hand hovered over the panic button on his console, and then he pressed the "record" rune. The Tau voice continued speaking.<br><br />
"These sacrifices will swell the warhost. Tomorrow, the Ethereals will lead the sacrifices of the Factionalists. Praise the Ethereals, and Praise the Dark Gods!"<br> <br />
Cestus tore off his headset and punched the panic button.<br><br />
<br />
Inquisitor Trajan of the Ordo Xenos ducked under a somewhat ostentatious idol to the machine god and stepped into the cramped strategum. The man studying the holo-tank's projection saw him and waved him over:<br />
"Ah, Inquisitor, I'm glad to see-"<br />
"You may dispense with the pleasantries Captain. What do you want?"<br />
The Inquisitor's respirator hissed meaningfully as he glared at the station's captain. The captain swallowed, and gestured at the display in front of him.<br />
"Our adepts have been intercepting Tau service announcements and communicates. What they have discovered is worrying to say the least. He pressed a key, and the message recorded by Adept Cestus a day earlier echoed out of the holo-tank's speakers. As the message played, the captain glanced at the Inquisitor's face. It may have just been the dim light cast by the projection, but the inquisitor looked like he was turning white. When it finished, Trajan moved past the captain and began to press keys on the holo-tank.<br />
"Are these messages coming from all the Tau worlds?"<br />
The Captain nodded and reached past the Inquisitor to press a rune.<br />
"Yes my lord, except from the so-called Farsight Enclaves, only two Tau worlds are broadcasting communications similar to the old ones. He pointed at the display, <br />
"Of these two, one has been almost completely overrun by the corrupted Tau, and the other is under siege. It appears to be trying to evacuate its population to the Farsight Enclaves."<br />
"You said the Enclaves were still broadcasting normally."<br />
The Captain made a face,<br />
"Not exactly, my lord. Not a single communication, corrupt or otherwise has come from the Enclaves for months."<br />
The Inquisitor's respirator wheezed.<br />
"I need to take this to the Ordo." He turned to the captain. <br />
"I must depart as quickly as possible, tell me, what was the last ship that you detected heading for the Enclaves?"<br />
"An Imperial ship, sir. It was tagged with the Inquisitorial seal, so we didn't repor-"<br />
"How long ago was this?"<br />
<br />
"This morning milord. We assumed that it was one of your ships."<br />
The Inquisitor turned away and made for the door.<br />
"Tell your men to keep their ears open. I will need my ship ready to fly as soon as possible."<br />
<br />
====The Fate of O'Kais====<br />
The bones in Kais' hand creaked as O'Shaserra squeezed it. He grit his teeth and glanced at the lifesign monitor affixed to the plaster wall. Both the vital signs of his wife and soon-to-be-born son were strong, but a miscarriage wasn't what frightened Kais. Shadowsun roared as another contraction hit her, and a loud rumble from above seemed to answer. Kais leaned forwards over his wife and the surgeons attending to her, feeling dust and grit cascade onto his back as the ceiling shook. He wiped some of the sweat from his wife's face, her eyes blazed at him, as though this was his fault. I suppose- he thought distantly- it was. In a way. The sound of pulse fire from the doorway distracted him, and he looked around. The Shas'nel guarding the doorway was sending pulse rifle shots down the corridor. Kais heard unearthly screeches echo back, in between shots. He glanced at the pulse pistol lying on a steel tray, next to cobalt stained surgical tools. Another growl from Shadowsun brought his attention back to her. As far as he could tell, the labour was close to completion. As if on cue, one of the surgeons spoke up, trying to make himself heard over the sound of the battle outside. <br />
<br />
"Commander Shadowsun! You need to push NOW!" <br />
<br />
O'Shaserra let out a scream that nearly drowned out the sound of an Orca crashing outside. Kais screamed as well, feeling the bones in his hand come to the very edge of snapping as O'Shaserra crushed it with all her strength. <br />
Abruptly, the scream cut off, and O'Shaserra gasped, releasing Kais' mangled hand. Kais heard the shot that felled the doorway guard, and snatched up the pulse pistol just in time to put a shot through the helmet of the Fire Warrior at the door. As the blood-smeared warrior fell back, he threw off his comrade's shot, giving Kais enough time to lunge across the room and tackle him.<br />
<br />
Pinning the warrior down with his legs, Kais ripped the warrior's helmet off and gripped him around the throat. The warrior leered up at Kais, several of the hideous scars on his face still wet with blood. The corrupted warrior bucked his hips, nearly throwing Kais off. Kais punched him in the face, hard enough that it slammed the warrior's head into the rockerete floor with a CRACK. Kais refastened his hands around the warrior's throat and squeezed with all his might. The warrior gurgled, blue blood oozing out of his mouth. Kais bared his teeth, the roar filling his head, calling for him to spill blood, to take skulls, blood for the blood go-<br />
<br />
CRUNCH<br />
<br />
The warrior's windpipe collapsed under the weight of Kais rage. The Tau convulsed and vomited a cobalt gout into Kais face. The silence that followed was broken by the sound of an infant crying. The red mist lifted from Kais' mind and he stood up stiffly, blinking cobalt out his eyes. He turned to see the surgeons helping O'Shaserra into a mobility mech. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he saw another of the surgeons holding a squalling bundle in their arms. <br />
A shout from one of them snapped him out of his trance:<br />
<br />
"SHAS'O! THE TRANSPORT WILL NOT WAIT FOR US!"<br />
<br />
Kais waved an arm at the group,<br />
"GO!" He glanced at the shape crouched in the corner of the room. <br />
"I'll get you time."<br />
<br />
Kais wiped some of the blood off his face as the group hustled out of the door. At the threshold, O'Shaserra looked back. Kais smiled gently, and nodded to her. Another explosion, louder this time, rattled Kais' teeth as he watched his wife and son pass through the door. Part of him realised that he wouldn't see them again. He turned, and strode to the dust-covered shape in the corner of the bunker. He could still make out the kill markings he had carved into the iridium armour on Kronus, all those years ago.<br />
<br />
He touched a key on his wrist computer. Blue lights flickered across the form, and the battlesuit stood up, dust cascading off it's armour. It's chest cavity popped open, bathing Kais in blue light. He turned and stepped in, standing up inside the armour. His head fit into the helmet of the battlesuit, and eyes were flooded with telemetry data. He felt the chest close up, sealing him inside. He worked his hands into the gloves, flexing the armoured fingers. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the missile pods clack into position. Another green light flickered up on his HUD, and he heard the two drones disengage from their charging socket across the room. The gun drone floated high at his right shoulder sensors trained on the door, whilst a faint flicker around him heralded the shield drone hovering low at his left shoulder. Kais reached down and picked up the heavy flamer in his left hand, feeling it lock to the elbow of the armour. He did the same with his fusion blaster, the weapon thrumming faintly at his touch. He looked towards the door, turning up the sensitivity of his visor. There was a squad of pathfinders stacking up outside. Kais outline wavered for a second, then he and his adjutant drones vanished from sight.<br />
<br />
CLOAK ENGAGED<br />
<br />
The door blew open in a shower of sparks, and the pathfinders streamed inside. They snarled in their bastardised version of Kais' language.<br />
"Kais and his whore must have already gone." Several of them dashed to the other door, the one that O'Shaserra had gone through. One of the others took notice of the bloody operating table, and, (Kais noted with a muted sense of revulsion) the bucket containing what had been left from the delivery. The Pathfinder peered into the bucket and turned to his comrades. He called something that Kais didn't understand, and the others laughed. He completely failed to notice Kais stepping behind him. Kais tightened his grip on his weapons, and then kicked the Pathfinder as hard as he could.<br />
<br />
The corrupted Pathfinder flew across the room and smashed into the wall, leaving a stain as though a blueberry had been smashed against it. The other wheeled around, just in time to expose themselves to the enormous jet of flame from Kais' flamer. They clawed at themselves, flailing in all directions as they burned. Kais brushed past them, ducking under the doorway as he stepped out the way they had come, into the open air. The sky was choked with ash, and fire. What little of the loyalist forces that remained were now in full retreat, breaking beneath the onslaught of their corrupted brethren. The few Barracudas that could still fly were desperately trying to keep the enemy fighters off the various dropships and cargo freighters that were evacuating the last of the population. A warning tone from his shield drone brought Kais attention to a sniper drone attempting to line up a shot. A squeeze of the fusion blaster's trigger smashed it into pieces. His visor highlighted a pair of crisis suits flying towards him, before assigning each a targeting reticule. A double thump from the rocket pods heralded the launch of a pair of missiles that curled through the air and smacked the Battlesuits out of the sky. One exploded before it hit the ground, the other corkscrewed towards Kais and crashed into the dirt. It weakly tried to raise a weapon-limb, before a shot from the fusion lance carved through the pilot. <br />
A barrage of shots hit Kais in the back, enough making it through the shield to stagger him. He swiveled on one foot, and, seeing the squad of Fire Warriors that had shot him, turned the Shas'ui into pulp with a shot from the fusion blaster. A jetpack enhanced leap brought him close enough to the squad that his flamer turned half of them into walking pyres in an instant. The rest charged him, and Kais boosted up into the air as they closed in. He cut the thrust and landed on one with a satisfying CRUNCH.<br />
<br />
The others crowded in, beating on Kais with the butts of their rifles. The roar echoed through Kais' mind, as though it had never left. He smashed the fusion blaster down on one of the Shas'la, blue blood splashing his armour. <br />
<br />
BLOOD<br />
<br />
He dropped the flamer and grabbed a helmetless warrior by the head. Servos in his gauntlet squealed for a second, then the Fire warrior's head imploded under Kais' grip.<br />
<br />
SKULLS <br />
<br />
The last Shas'la turned to run, but was cut down by a burst of pulse fire from the gun drone. <br />
Behind him, he heard the sound of a dropship taking off. He turned to see the Orca he knew was carrying his wife and son. Images stormed through his mind, of blasting the ship out of the sky, of bathing in the blood of a thousand innocents. Kais thought of his wife's eyes as he had watched her leave. He thought of the tiny face he had glimpsed peering at him out of a bundle of rags. The roar receded, for now. As he watched the Orca climb into the sky, he saw something fall past it, and land about a hundred metres away from him. A huge plume of ash covered what it was, but there was no mistaking the missile that burst from the cloud and beelined for the Orca. Kais watched the missile's flight, and raised his fusion blaster. Only enough time for one shot... <br />
A blue lance smote the missile from the air. Kais lowered the blaster, feeling his heart palpitate as he watched the Orca lift through the ash clouds, and out of sight. He turned to see the dust cloud settle, revealing a massive Riptide battlesuit, its hull adorned with carvings and sigils that Kais almost recognised from a long time ago. The roar howled in his mind, demanding blood and skulls. The corrupted battlesuit towered over Kais, casting him in shadow.<br />
<br />
Kais calmly reached down and picked up his flamer, before snapping off a shot, blowing the Riptide's shield drone into pieces. The Riptide's answer blasted Kais off his feet, and sent both his drones spinning away, damaged beyond use. Kais picked himself up, studying the Riptide's weapons. An ion accelerator, a pair of plasma rifles, and the smart missile system. Kais blasted off again, punching the battlesuit's shields with his fusion blaster as he soared into the air. What he saw disheartened him, it would take a massive barrage to break through the shield, one bigger than what his stealthsuit could mount. He landed behind the Riptide, and sent a jet of flame at its back. The shield dappled and wobbled, but retained cohesion. The Riptide swiveled at the waist, and Kais dived for cover as a blast from the Plasma rifles leapt out at him. He landed on his feet and let loose a trio of missiles that exploded harmlessly on the Riptide's shields. The roar's impotent fury made Kais ears ring, and he pounded the shield with his fusion blaster. The shots that hit where the missiles had struck caused the shield to light up, brighter than before. Kais realised what he had to do. Once again, the roar had shown him the path. He disengaged the safety protocols on his battlesuit's weapons. Immediately, the fusion reactor began to bleep warnings at him, blue symbols demonstrating an imminent meltdown. Kais set his feet, digging his heels into the ash and lining up every single of his targeters on the same spot of the Riptide. He noticed the barrel of the the Ion accelerator pointing straight at him. The roar threatened to burst his head<br />
<br />
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD<br />
<br />
"Yes"<br />
<br />
He fired.<br />
<br />
When the light and sound had faded, Kais saw the Riptide reeling back, sparks jetting from its mangled shield generator. Kais leapt forwards, the world slowing to a crawl, every iota of his being focussed on his enemy. One shot left in his Fusion Blaster. His visor saw the fantastic amount of heat coming from the Riptide's Nova Reactor. He lined up his last shot. For a moment, he remembered O'Shaserra's face when he had asked her to be his wife. He focussed on that, shutting out the battle, shutting out the roar. His wife gave him the strength to pull the trigger.<br />
<br />
<br />
Kais gasped. His lungs were on fire. His whole body was on fire. He looked into a sky choked with ash. He coughed up blood. His skin was charred and blistered. At some point, his helmet had come off. There was no sound except the wind and the melted rock cooling around him. The roar went on, echoing through his head, as though it were trying to burst out of him. Kais heard a footstep in the ash. A strange voice tutted.<br />
<br />
"Oh dear. What a mess you've made of everything."<br><br />
<br />
A horrifying bird's head loomed into Kais' fading vision.<br> <br />
"You pitiful, dull, little, creature."<br><br />
<br />
Kais spat blood into its face.<br><br />
"G-go to hell... Monster."<br><br />
<br />
The creature snarled, then spoke again.<br> <br />
"You have disrupted my plans too many times for it to still be funny, puppet of the blood god."<br />
<br />
Kais gasped the roar inside his head answered.<br><br />
"For this, and for the blood god's annoying persistence, you shall suffer the consequences."<br><br />
Then it spoke in a voice like a razor blade sliding down Kais' eyeball.<br><br />
"Your mind will fade. Your body will become dust. But you will Never. Ever. Die."<br><br />
Then it touched Kais' chest. And all of him became nothing at all.<br><br />
<br />
Upon a desolate battlefield lay a white battlesuit. It's surface bore no blemishes, and it's weapons lay besides it in the ash. After a long, long, time, Kais rolled to his feet. He wasn't breathing. He couldn't feel his heart beating. He couldn't feel himself against the inside of the armour. Gripped by sudden panic, he seized on of his gauntlets in one hand and tried to pull it off. It didn't move an inch. He pulled with all his might. Nothing. He was trapped inside his armour, unable to move, unable to breathe. He tried to hyperventilate, he couldn't feel his lungs drawing in air. He didn't feel a need to breathe. He took a step. The leg moved, but he did not feel his leg pressing against the inside of the armour. He thought of moving his leg, and his leg moved. <br />
<br />
"Am I cursed?" His voice came through the suit's external speakers, and he heard it as though it was coming through the suit. His vision was overlaid with the view from his visor, but he felt no need to blink. He could just stare, taking in the ruined landscape as no other living creature could. So he did. He stared at the desolation that surrounded him, wondering what he was going to do next. <br />
<br />
Kais struggled across the ashen wastes. Every two or three stumbling steps, he would fall, and have to coax his arms into pushing him back up. Unable to feel if his feet were touching the ground, Kais' vision was fixed on his armour's boots, trying to maintain his balance. His Plasma Rifle and Heavy Flamer were strapped to his back, the added weight not doing his balance any favours, but he was not leaving his weapons behind, not when he was in such a vulnerable state. He crested a ridge, pieces of obsidian crunching beneath his feet. Beyond him, sat a seemingly functional Manta dropship, much of it's hull covered by the ash that still fell from the skies. The rear hatch was closed, but thanks to Kais' still functioning command codes, it was trivial to enter. One of the aerials on Kais' helmet scraped against the roof, making him jump as the grinding sound echoed inside his helmet. The flat deckplate made walking somewhat easier, but even then, Kais nearly tripped at least twice. He squeezed his armoured bulk into the cockpit, from what he could tell, the dropship had been abandoned in a hurry, half the systems were still running. Luckily for Kais, the armoured fingers of his XV25 were dextrous enough that he could grasp the controls with ease. He hovered his hand over the controls for the engines, then carefully pressed the touch screen. The light touch left a smear of black ash on the console, but the microphones in his helmet picked up the sound of the engines lighting. Carefully as possible, Kais eased the craft out from under it's blanket of ash, and into the sky.<br />
<br />
As the manta left the planet's ruined atmosphere, Kais glanced out of the viewport. Burned out ships, and fragments of ships glittered in the sunlight. Judging by the amount of debris, it would be a long time before any orbital installations could be set up. That was not Kais's concern. What drew his attention was the Explorer Class that was orbiting at the edge of the debris field, protected by its deflector shields. Its hangar bays were open, and Kais guided the Manta in. As soon as the instruments registered a hard contact with the docking cradle, Kais left the cockpit. The Explorer classes were so old, most of their systems were AI controlled. Hopefully, he might be able to leave the system with it.<br />
<br />
Kais strode the empty halls of the ship, senses alert for the slightest sound. He had not found any traces of another living being, not so much as a bloodstain. He passed a mess hall, and glanced through the doorway. There were several half-eaten meals sitting on a table, the infrared vision mode of his visor showed that a bowl of soup was still reasonably warm. Kais carefully reached back and unhooked his heavy flamer, igniting the pilot lights with a flick of a switch. He turned the sensitivity of his visor up as far as it would go, and was struck by a feeling of vertigo as the deckplate beneath him was rendered transparent. He looked around, vision penetrating through dozens of decks. Nothing. Not even shipboard pests. For a second, Kais seriously considered returning to the Manta and seeking out another functioning ship. He shook the thought away, even if he found another ship, the chances of it still functioning were slim at best. Returning his vision to its normal settings, Kais continued, heading for the bridge. Rounding a corner, he spotted a turbolift. He jabbed the call button and was rewarded by a crunching sound as the button cracked. The doors opened before him, and he awkwardly worked himself into the interior. The extra height from his armour meant that he was forced to stoop to prevent the aerials on his helmet from scraping the roof. He pressed the key for the bridge, more carefully this time, and was rewarded by the lift shuddering beneath him. After a thankfully short time, the lift came to a halt and the doors slid open. Kais had expected some kind of reveal here, perhaps the bridge would be a blood-soaked abattoir, or a shrieking monster would leap for him. The bridge was empty, just like the rest of the ship. Somehow, that was worse. Kais worked his way around the bridge stations, stowing his flamer and searching for the helm controls.<br />
<br />
Kais carefully tapped commands into the control panel, shifting uncomfortably in the tiny seat. All the systems seemed to be working correctly, including the weapons and shields. Hopefully, he would never have to use them, but considering how his luck had been going, he decided to keep an eye on them anyway. He pulled up the map screen, and punched in the coordinates for the Enclave world of Salas'hei, the world that they had been evacuating for. Hopefully, Shadowsun should be there. Kais pressed the key that would engage the FTL drive. He was committed now. Nothing would stop him reaching his wife and son.<br />
<br />
====Farsight====<br />
A thunderous sound clapped over the battlefield.<br />
6 golliaths with single glowing eyes had descended from the sky, kicking up ash and dust from the ground, it shocked many of the corrupt followers of the Greater Good.<br />
<br />
"Fusion Blades on-line."<br />
<br />
"Onager Gauntlet on-line."<br />
<br />
"Airbursting Fragmentation Launcher on-line"<br />
<br />
"Flamers, ready to burn!"<br />
<br />
"Retro-thrusters, on-line."<br />
<br />
"...Dawn Blade...always on-line."<br />
<br />
And with a slash of a massive blade, the Six titans were revealed, Five Crisis suit, flanking a sixth, blade in hand...O'Shovah and his bodyguard had arrived on the battlefield.<br />
"Assist the evacuation, keep sharp."<br />
<br />
"For the Enclave O'Shovah."<br />
<br />
"No."<br />
The larger battlesuit turned to O'Shovah, O'Arra'Kon was confused.<br />
"For the Greater Good."<br />
<br />
Chaos forces kept coming, the five body guards held their line, fire reigned supreme as torchstar had opened up on their once brethren, torching the mad Tau, getting them out of their hiding spots, in the meanwhile, Farsight had been listening to the communications, they were trying to evacuate someone important...<br />
<br />
"Bzzt Comma- BZZZT -owSun ca- ZZZZT -ove her, sh- BZZZZZZZZZT -born child, she's BZZZT healing centre Ar, need rein- BZZZT!"<br />
Tracking the signal was no easy feat for the suits systems, but he found it, not too far from his position.<br />
<br />
"I shall be back Arra'kon, maintain position, keep the ships face."<br />
The Tau Commander blasted off before Arra'kon could protest, he sailed through the sky, ash passing over his optics, he did notice something however, the large blue ball of devastation as a Riptide exploded, was it their own? he hadn't a clue, he noticed a white suit, damaged, he ignored it for now, whatever happened, it would've indeed been a could battle.<br />
He turned his attention to his objective could see the healing centre.<br />
he began his descent, he saw the evac team holed up not far from it, taking heavy fire from the corrupt forces.<br />
A devilfish was over turned with a lot of wounded, some soldiers, some civilians.<br />
<br />
Shadowsun was not having a good day.<br />
<br />
She was lying behind an overturned devilfish, just haven given birth of all things, bleeding, in pain, the remnants of drugs in her system hardly able contain the pain she felt from her virtue.<br />
But she still had him, her child, her beloved child, she held him close he wailed and wailed, but she cooed to the child, what a way to come into the world, born into war.<br />
<br />
The fire team around her fired towards the healing centre the corrupted took cover in, sometimes sending a wave of mad kroot towards them.<br />
But she held onto him, her precious little one.<br />
"Be quiet little one, we will be away from this soon, be quiet."<br />
That's when HE arrived, very noisily, as always!<br />
The crimson red suit crashed on the opposite side of the devilfish, plasma rifle blazing.<br />
Soldiers were in awe, all didn't seem to be lost, but some were confused.<br />
<br />
"Is that O'Shovah?!"<br />
<br />
Her eyes shot open, away from her little one, O'Shovah?!<br />
She grabbed the dirt with her free hand, with her legs useless, she gritted her teeth, dragging her useless legs and her little one, she pulled herself from behind the cover of the Devilfish to witness this...it was true, it was O'Shovah...her face flashed to anger, how DARE HE!<br />
How dare he show his face here! as if it wasn't enough, he had DARED to steal glory from the Tau Empire and he DARED! prance about in that suit he stole!<br />
For all she cared he could swing that sword of his in his naked bare hands!<br />
She glared at the suit, knowing it was the only thing between them and getting off this planet.<br />
All seemed to quiet after he barked orders of concentrated fire, then cut through swaths of kroot, shooting down vespid.<br />
He turned to the forces he was leading, then his optics turned and focused...on her.<br />
A chill settled in her gut as he stomped over to her...which was replaced by the feeling of fire and rage.<br />
He dared.<br />
<br />
O'Shovah observed his ally, turned enemy, another student of Puretide, here, dragging herself along the ground and...was that, a child?<br />
Lights went up in his head.<br />
<br />
She had given birth.<br />
<br />
Farsight pitied the fool un-wise enough to make Shadowsun with child.<br />
He opened his suit, looking down at Shadowsun sternly.<br />
"Hello O'Shaserra."<br />
<br />
Shadowsun spat in his direction.<br />
"Die O'Shovah, you rat."<br />
<br />
Farsight smirked some at that comment.<br />
"You seem to be in a bad way."<br />
<br />
"No worse then when I shall rip your head from your shoulders."<br />
<br />
He chuckled at her threats, he had missed this banter.<br />
"But you see O'Shaseera, I am up here...and you are down there, with child, who was the unlucky one?"<br />
<br />
"Die, I have nothing more to say to you."<br />
Her eyes looked up in defiance to him.<br />
He shrugged off the comment as fire lit up his shield, the troops returning fire, he merely gestured his plasma rifle toward the windows, opening up more fire, as the windows soon turned into holes, his comms crackled to life.<br />
"O'Shovah this is O'Arra'kon, the ships are leaving, we need to go."<br />
<br />
Farsight eyes widened, he looked around, there were no evac team in sight to assist him in moving the troops, nor the debilitated Shadowsun, there wasn't enough room in the suit for her either...<br />
a tough decision had to be made, fast, then his eyes looked down to the small bundle she held onto for her dear life.<br />
"...O'Shaserra, give me the child."<br />
<br />
Her eyes widened.<br />
Give him what?<br />
Her eyes widened in surprise, in anger and most of all, in fear.<br />
Be separated from her child?<br />
HER child?<br />
No, she couldn't she wouldn't even if it were anyone else she would have doubts, second thoughts, with him...the traitor of the Tau Empire, a betrayer to the greater good and all its ideals!<br />
He thought she couldn't protect her child?<br />
<br />
"The ships are leaving O'Shaserra and I can't get you to safety."<br />
Synapses fired off in her head, the pain seemed to fade as she went cold.<br />
No, never, not she couldn't think it.<br />
But...<br />
If he could get her little one to safety.<br />
No, she would rather die...but, should he?<br />
Where was O'Kais? where was he?!<br />
<br />
"I can see if we can get a second wave, but right now we need to get as many as we can to safety, children included."<br />
Her tactile side of her mind told her to do it, the cold, thinking part of her brain, said to her that at least her child would live on.<br />
Her emotional side of her brain was crying out to never, ever think about it, that she could never trust anyone with the child, that she could never trust HIM with the child.<br />
<br />
"O'Shaserra...please...I promise you with my life that no harm will come to the child, not a scratch...I know that I'm a "traitor", but I would not be here if I did not care about the Empire, that includes you and that child!"<br />
<br />
She could feel his voice shake her to her core, even from distance away it had force.<br />
...she held out her child.<br />
"Take him, take him and get him to safety."<br />
Her voice, almost a whisper, so soft, so quiet like she didn't want it to escape her throat.<br />
Her whole being shook, telling her it was wrong, her heart had sank so deep, but her mind, her genius mind told her, she had to.<br />
She felt something slide down her face...tears? was she, crying?<br />
She didn't want to be seen crying in front of him, not just because he was an enemy, he was a rival, someone she had to be as strong as, she had to scrape up what little resolve she had.<br />
"Take him, that is an Order, O'Shovah!"<br />
<br />
He nooded Solemnly, his battle suit knelt as to let him out, quickly his boots hit the ground.<br />
He strode over to his former ally, taking the small bundle infront of him from her, the boy had immediately started wailing.<br />
"Do you have him?"<br />
<br />
Her strong eyes looked up and locked with his, he could feel the intensity of her gaze.<br />
"Yes."<br />
<br />
"Say the words."<br />
Her voice was demanding and strong, even now, crawling in the dirt, in pain, she commanded some authority that made him get the chills.<br />
<br />
"I have him."<br />
<br />
He responded reassuringly, she let go of the boy, he hold the little one firmly in his grasp.<br />
"Now run, run far, far away! It is what you are good at."<br />
There was a moment, despite all the history between them, despite eachother being enemies, despite this being a warzone, they shared a moment, a smile, as small as it is, almost a jeering among peers...yes, that was exactly what it was.<br />
<br />
"I'll be back for you."<br />
He felt fire light up, deep inside of his belly, a willingness, a drive.<br />
<br />
"Not before you get him out first, now go! I can hold these bastards off."<br />
Very shakily, the Tau Commander rose to her feet, how she could lift herself, he couldn't fathom, he could only hope that he could muster the strength she could in that situation...she looked at her child, stroking it's blue head<br />
"Good bye, little one."<br />
<br />
She stumbled to the men, barking orders in a firm tone, even though they told her she should NOT be standing, never mind fighting, she smacked the Shas'ui and told him to get her a stimulant and a rifle.<br />
Farsight climbed into his suit.<br />
<br />
"O'Shovah, O'Shovah, are you there!?"<br />
"I am en-route, do not worry."<br />
He adjusted himself in the suit and made sure the boy was secure, he closed the hatch...as it closed he looked toward his rival, her at him.<br />
"I'll be back."<br />
<br />
He declared in a strong voice...<br />
"No...you won't"<br />
She whispered to the wind before she returned to her troops.<br />
He took off away, heading towards the evacuation ships, the boy wailing the whole way.<br />
<br />
====The Corruption of T'au====<br />
''T'AU''<br />
<br />
Aun'ra, Supreme Ethereal and Master of the Tau pushed past his honour guard and sighted the one he had come here to see. Kor Phaeron, Keeper of the Faith and Emissary to the Mon'Tau. The Tau bowed to the towering Word Bearer, and felt the Emissary touch him on the shoulder. <br />
"Rise, Ethereal. We are all equal upon the eightfold path."<br />
<br />
Aun'ra nodded and motioned for the Word Bearer to follow him. <br />
"We have been following the Instructions in the Book of Lorgar, and we believe that we are ready for the final invocation."<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron smiled,<br />
"It sounds as though you don't need me, then."<br />
<br />
The Ethereal looked back nervously,<br />
"We, ah, thought it would be best for you to make the final invocation. Afterall, you have more experience with this kind of thing than any of us."<br />
<br />
The Word Bearer agreed, and they stepped into a wide chamber, what had been the throne room of the Empire. At the centre was the focus of the final invocation. <br />
Aun'va. The former Supreme Ethereal and master of the Undying Spirit was wrapped in barbed chains that sprouted from the ground and held him in place in the centre of the room. His eyes locked on Aun'ra and the Emissary. Aun'ra sneered:<br />
"Weak fool, the Gods have shown us power that you could never have imagined."<br />
<br />
Despite the chain holding his jaw shut, Aun'va spoke:<br />
"This is not power. This is madness. You have doomed the Tau."<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron laughed, the cruel sound echoing through the chamber. Aun'va's glare fixed on the Dark Cardinal.<br />
"And you. You are a slave to powers you think you control, and your time is coming."<br />
<br />
Phaeron's smile faded. He reached down to his belt, and drew a blade. It was so small it seemed almost comical in the Word Bearer's massive gauntlet, but all present knew that the Athame was so much more than just that.<br />
Aun'va glanced at it then looked back at the Word Bearer.<br />
"Silencing me won't change anything. You are dead men walking. All of you."<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron sank the blade into Aun'va's torso.<br />
The Final Invocation had begun.<br />
<br />
''THE FARSIGHT ENCLAVES''<br />
<br />
Like a cauldron brought to the boil, the warp around the Enclaves began to froth and churn. Psykers across the galaxy felt it. The space around the enclaves began to stretch and distort as reality was brought to the breaking point. Then it broke.<br />
<br />
O'Kais jumped as his ship began an emergency return to realspace, alarms screaming. In the Imperial Palace, Magnus the Red clutched his head, feeling as though nails were being shot into it. The Emperor stiffened as blood began to run out of his nose and ears, feeling reality itself being torn asunder. For a moment, a single warpstorm, bigger than anything the Tau had ever seen engulfed the Farsight Enclaves. <br />
<br />
Then it was gone. So were the Enclaves. <br />
<br />
Kais stared at his consoles, unable to believe what he was seeing. The Emperor staggered, barely able to think, whilst Magnus collapsed with a crash. On T'au, Kor Phaeron smiled. If everything were this easy, he would have the Emperor's soul in no time at all.<br />
<br />
Aboard his ship, Kais was frantically searching the communication channels for anything that would tell him what was going on. At last, he tuned in to a wideband transmission that was being bounced off every relay beacon from here to the Zone of Silence.<br />
<br />
"REJOICE BRETHREN, FOR THE GODS HAVE SMOTEN THE UNBELIEVERS! THE EMISSARY'S WORDS WERE TRUE, CHAOS IS THE TRUE PATH! THE EMISSARY WILL BE REMAINING ON T'AU, SO THAT ALL MAY HEAR THE WORD OF CHA-"<br />
<br />
Kais cut the frequency, and reached over to the navigation console again. With but a gesture, he changed the ship's destination to T'au. As the ship began to turn, and line itself up with the capital, Kais began to form a plan in his mind. He was going to find this Emissary. And he was going to make him return the Enclaves, or he would find himself meeting his gods a lot sooner than he intended.<br />
<br />
====Suicide Mission====<br />
<br />
''T'AU SPHERE OF INFLUENCE''<br />
<br />
The space-traffic control teams that kept watch over T'au were stretched to breaking point by the massive influx of Tau that were making pilgrimage to the Homeworld, in order to hear the Emissary speak. They were, however, surprised to see an Explorer class battleship revert to realspace at the edge of the planet's sphere of influence. The battleship increased velocity, heading for the planet. Many of the controllers shrugged it off, assuming that the crew were on leave and wanted to hear the Emissary, like many other elements of the Kor'vattra that had arrived at Tau in the past few days. Few among them noticed the ship did not transmit any messages to the orbitals, and instead continued to accelerate towards the planet. At last, one of the weary members of the air caste keyed his microphone:<br />
<br />
"Explorer, you are exceeding the speed limit for disembarking craft, reduce speed, or suffer the consequences, how copy, over?"<br />
<br />
Silence. The controller frowned,<br />
"If you do not reduce speed, you will be fired upon."<br />
<br />
Still nothing. The controller keyed up one of the Lar'shi classes that was guarding the orbitals.<br />
"Send a warning shot across the bow of that explorer." He watched the blue streak shoot from the nose of the Lar'shi and cross the void to narrowly miss the hull of the Explorer. He wasn't expecting what happened next: three railgun shots burst from the nose of the explorer and struck the Lar'shi amidships. There was an eye-searing flash as the ship's reactor went supercritical.<br />
<br />
As the controllers frantically scrambled to contact the other battleships guarding the planet, the Explorer accelerated even further, shooting past the furthest orbital. The defence orbitals and battleships began to fire, railgun and ion cannon shots splashing off the Explorer's shields as it bore onwards. The Explorer was firing back, swatting the defence ships out of its way with barrages of railgun fire. A Lar'shi was too slow at getting out of the way, and smashed off the battleship's flank, exploding in pieces. The explorer's shields failed, exposing its hull to the fire of the defence forces. Railgun shots tore gaping chunks out of it, but still it forged onwards, ramming ships out of its way with an increasingly mangled prow. The defence forces were hitting each other in their struggle to halt the battleship, which was, by now, little more than a mangled lump of metal shooting towards T'au at incredible speeds. Already, flames were licking at its edges as it hit the atmosphere. A long plume of disintegrating material trailed behind it as it screamed through the planet's atmosphere. Its sole occupant clung to the controls as the ship disintegrated around him, G-forces that would liquefy normal men proving harmless to a being with no body. The ship trembled as it the atmosphere tore it to pieces, but Kais gaze was fixed on his target: the Chamber of the Ethereals. He could see the massive crowd that had gathered to hear the Emissary speak. The roar in his head gloried at the thought of so much blood being spilt, but Kais hauled on the controls, dragging the nose up. A particularly large tremor rocked the ship as it plowed through a building, the ground racing up towards it. Kais unstrapped himself from his seat and stood up, the deck shaking and trembling beneath him. There was a massive lurch as the ship struck the ground, ploughing through the road and crowd alike, smashing buildings and defences aside.<br />
<br />
Kais leaned back, bringing his plasma rifle up. A single pulse smashed open the viewscreen, opening the bridge to the air and letting in the sound of screams and grinding metal. He saw, standing at a podium a tall figure in crimson armour. Kor Phaeron stared at the tide of glowing metal that was screaming towards him, unable to quite believe what he was seeing. The ground shook, and he struggled for balance, catching sight of a figure standing on the very tip of the metal shape. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of the figure's thoughts. <br />
<br />
Space Marines are said to know no fear. <br />
Kor Phaeron was no space marine. <br />
<br />
He turned and ran up the steps, into the building, terrified by what he could sense. He raced into the central chamber, taking in the figure of Aun'va, held at the very edge of death by the foul magiks of the Word Bearer. He was the nexus of the spell keeping the Enclaves submerged in the warp. Kor Phaeron couldn't even begin to imagine how the Tau piloting the battleship had learned this. There was a tremendous BOOM as the battleship plowed through the front of the building, shattering mosaics and statues that had been there for generations. The Dark Cardinal put himself between the advancing battleship and the nexus of the spell. At long last, the battleship ground to a halt, dust cascading from the roof of the building, its construction at the very edge of collapse. Kor Phaeron's grip tightened on his staff, the spiked head crackling with Eldritch power. The dust was whipped into a miniature tornado as the Tau descended from above, his jetpack slowing his descent. The green lenses of the Tau's helmet regarded the cardinal emotionlessly. The Word Bearer spoke first:<br />
"You've come a long way to die, Tau."<br />
<br />
"You are not the first to tell me that, Warp-spawn." replied the Tau, evenly<br />
He tilted his head slightly, looking around the Master of the faith, and at Aun'va.<br />
"Is that what is keeping the Enclaves hidden?"<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron stared at the Tau for a moment, then burst out laughing:<br />
"You mean, you didn't know!? You came all this way, and you didn't know!?"<br />
<br />
O'Kais was unmoved by the word bearer's mirth.<br />
"Now I know, and the purpose of this exchange is over."<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron heard a whisper in the warp, and only just managed to block the plasma rifle shot with his staff. Kais set his feet, and fired a trio of rockets at the cardinal. One missed, exploding in a shower of marble chips at the Word Bearer's feet. The second was swatted out of the air by the spiked end of Kor Phaeron's staff. The third hit the man in the chest, and the explosion hurled him backwards, past the figure of Aun'va. Phaeron landed heavily, but sprang back to his feet, and extended a hand, doombolts springing towards the Tau. To the cardinal's shock, the bolts missed the Tau completely, almost as if they were magnetically repelled from it.<br />
<br />
Kais flinched as the glowing purple bolts shot past him, detonating with flat bangs behind him. His grip tightened on the handle of his plasma gun, and he fired it again. The blast struck Kor Phaeron in the left pauldron, blowing it off, but failing to injure the Word Bearer. The Dark Cardinal grinned, and a bolt of lightning shot from his outstretched hand, striking Kais' knee joint and knocking the Tau over. Kais rolled onto his back, rage thrumming through him at the underhanded tricks of the sorcerer. He took hold of his rage, holding it until his limbs quaked with fury. His plasma rifle trembled as he brought it up, purplish light crackling around the muzzle. Kor Phaeron stared in astonishment, he could feel the power of the warp radiating from this creature, but surely such a thing was impossib- his thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt as the Tau fired.<br />
<br />
A crimson beam lanced from the Tau's weapon and struck the Word Bearer in the chest shattering his chestplate, and sending him head-over heels. His head struck the ground, and for a moment, he thought he was seeing Gulliman ripping out his heart again. Kais regained his feet, paying no heed to the world bearer, lying in an expanding pool of black blood. He focussed on Aun'va, seeing the obsidian dagger sticking out of the Ethereal's chest. Aun'va looked into Kais' helmet, and mouthed the only words he could think of:<br />
"End it." <br />
<br />
Kais nodded, and brought up his plasma rifle. Behind him, Kor Phaeron, struggling to breathe through punctured lungs, saw what the Tau was about to do. He tried to shout, tried to cast a spell... but the ensorceled plasma bolt had severed his spine, and no amount of chaotic power could transcend that. <br />
<br />
Kais fired at Aun'va. The plasma round hit the atheme first, shattering it into pieces. Then it continued to the Ethereal. For a moment, Aun'va lit up, glowing, as the chaotic energies flowing through him backed up. Then he burst into a cloud of dust, and was gone. <br />
<br />
On the other side of the empire, the massive warp storm re-appeared, then faded again. But this time, the stars of the Farsight Enclaves were there, as though they had never left. <br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron felt this, and hissed faintly, before black blood flooded his mouth. Kais turned, and looked at the Word Bearer, weakly coughing up blood. He walked over to the Cardinal and looked down, into the scarred face. He stamped on it, black blood coating his white armour. He stamped again, rage filling him as he stamped again and again, cracking the paving stones with his fury. After a while, Kais realised that he was just pounding shards of bone into the floor, so he stopped. A final breath bubbled out of the word bearer's ruined trachea as the Tau strode away, leaving black footprints on the white marble floor.<br />
<br />
Now, he was going to find his wife. And the dark gods help whomsoever tried to stop him.<br />
<br />
<br />
=Links=<br />
<br />
*Archive of first thread:http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/30718552/<br />
<br />
*Archive of the second thread:http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/30789099/ - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/30789099/<br />
<br />
*Archive of the third thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/30851860/- https://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/30851860/<br />
<br />
*Archive of the fourth thread:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/30894565/<br />
<br />
*Archive of the fifth thread:http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/30958863/ -http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/30958863/<br />
<br />
*6th:https://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31018873/<br />
<br />
*7th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31087598/<br />
<br />
*8th:https://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31140309/<br />
<br />
*9th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31158123/<br />
<br />
*10th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31227459/<br />
<br />
*11th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31309156/<br />
<br />
*12th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31428292/<br />
<br />
*13th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31505557/<br />
<br />
*14th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31588659/<br />
<br />
*1st 15th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31649760/<br />
<br />
*2nd 15th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31662684/<br />
<br />
*16th (If any other interested writerswish, Skype stuff is here): http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31790234<br />
<br />
*17th: https://archive.4plebs.org/tg/thread/31894756/<br />
<br />
*18th (The Inquisitorially sanctioned one):https://archive.4plebs.org/tg/thread/31974143/<br />
<br />
*WIP Rules for the Returning Legions forDeathwatch:http://www.mediafire.com/view/op2jhul1i836bs2/Primarchs_Return_DeathWatch.pdf<br />
<br />
*WIP Character Stats by{{Anonymous|Friendly Anon}}:https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XVSRIbtow7rI9_L9ZBDTWft7YNqEHcvtC8jDLUCDyUI/edit<br />
<br />
*WIP Character Stats by {{Anonymous|CryptekSzerasp}}:https://docs.google.com/document/d/1TE7a9uS0lbckq4zzVRcJGnEdcr-DU5YkHMiH5gRO_sU/edit<br />
<br />
[[Category: Stories/Warhammer 40,000]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Return_of_the_Primarchs&diff=403807Return of the Primarchs2014-05-27T05:59:21Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Horus */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{story}}<br />
Here's a page for the ongoing Return of the [[Primarch|Primarchs]] setting. At the moment, it is a storage place for ideas.<br />
<br />
==The Premise==<br />
What if, in a giant act of [[just as planned]], [[Malal]], [[Cegorach]], and The [[God-Emperor of Mankind]], in concert with all of the other anti-big 4 chaos gods engineered the return of the [[Primarchs]], from a point in time early enough in the crusade that they all don't hate each other, and a few other changes, notably the removal of Angron's Butcher's Nails and the curing of Curze's madness. Oh, and they have at least some part of their legions and support staff, so Mechanicum, remembrancers, all that.<br />
<br />
The result is a setting based on badassery, [[noblebright]], and [[Fist of the North Star|manly tears]].<br />
<br />
==Personae Dramatis==<br />
<br />
===Primarchs===<br />
<br />
====Horus====<br />
Has a bit of a meltdown, runs off to be a [[The Protomen|lone wolf against chaos]] for a while, setting himself some yet to be decided task. Once he completes it, he can forgive himself.<br />
Then he seeks atonement through fighting off the [[Abaddon|enemies of the Empire]], and takes command again as Warmaster. [[Awesome|Leads his reborn Luna Wolves to battle]] on the surface of Mars during siege of Terra. Exercises extreme benevolence towards [[Erebus|Erebus]] by killing him with a simple bolter round to the face instead of [[rape|trying to reason with him]]. He is especially useful to the Imperium in preventive methods against corruption because of his vast knowledge of interrogation and corruption tactics employed by Chaos.<br />
<br />
====Ferrus Manus====<br />
He has a good head on his shoulders. He remonstrates his legion for their obsessive perfectionism, which lets him help Fulgrim.<br />
<br />
====Fulgrim====<br />
Fulgrim freaks out. First he finds out about the Heresy, but its ok, he has his friend Ferrus. Then the two split up to tour the Imperium, Fulgrim ends up at Ultramar and collapses at the feet of Gorillaman's stasis coffin. Then he learns what he did to Manus. He runs off ala Rossiu, but Manus comes for him. See the story below, as it is awesome.<br />
<br />
====Magnus====<br />
Gets soul-bound to the Emperor. Also he gets decked out by the Grey Knights, with a holy lance sanctified in the Emperor's blood and gets the 666 Rites of Detestation etched onto his back. He is clad in truesilver armor.<br />
<br />
Possible idea brought up in 2nd thread by a writefaggot: Magnus gathers his legion of 'zards on Terra during the Battle for Terra when the Primarchs try to wrest power away from the High Lords (who for some reason really like their jobs as being masters of fucking everything). This is like far in the "new" storyline. Magnus goes flying into the Warp again while touching his Father's robe and does psychic battle alongside his legion against Daemons tainting the local Warp. After months of deep meditation fueled by his Legion's most powerful and trusted warriors he restores the Emp's body to working order and takes up his position on the Golden Throne so Big Daddy E can sort shit out without the Astronomicon blinking out. Lots of numbers and JUST AS PLANNED as he fights off his corrupted self. There you go, now talk about why this is shit.<br />
<br />
====Russ====<br />
Comes back for the wolftime. More than anything else, he feels guilty for what he did to Magnus-- in fact, the reason he vanished into the warp was to go try to kill Magnus or die trying, as a way of atoning. Now that Magnus is back and badass, will everyone's favourite Space Viking Wolfman be able to face his estranged brother?<br />
<br />
====Lorgar====<br />
Surprisingly ok with things, viewing his earlier failing as a lack of faith on his part. If Magnus is the holy lance in the fight against the Daemonic, Lorgar is his shield bearer, swearing to protect his brothers from the horrors of the Warp.<br />
Lorgar gets pimped out by the Ecclesiarchy, with a shrine to the god emperor built into his new holy armor and bolts for his bolter carved from the bones of saints. Depending on how far we go, he may also have had his bones inscribed with hymns to the emperor, like an emperor loving version of wolverine.<br />
When he finds out how things went down, he promplty crushes [[Kor Phaeron]]'s head, with a 'YOU WERE LIKE A FATHER TO ME' speech.<br />
<br />
====Mortarion====<br />
THE EMPEROR'S UNBREAKABLE SCYTHE!<br />
Though the skies may rain blood and the mountains crumble to dust, the Death Guard will stand fast, advancing inch by inch, their marching cadence the thud of their artillery. Mortarion vows to exterminate Nurgle's influence with the same tenacity that makes their chaos counterparts so damned hard to beat.<br />
<br />
Mortarion would gather his Death Guard and go head-to-head with his double's Legion, enduring the worst that Nurgle's plagues can bring on them, even to the point where many of his Astartes are almost indistinguishable from the enemy they fight, and imprisoning his Daemon Prince self in a stasis-locked casket filled with molten silver, cast into the core of a dark and forgotten planet.<br />
<br />
Casualties are horrendous once the plagues have run their course, but, as always, they return to fight on another battlefield. The Emperors unbreakable scythe, the <s>Deathguard.</s> Dusk Raiders.<br />
<br />
====Jaghatai====<br />
As the other living Primarchs were either brooding or incapacitated, the Khan was busy taking his own slice of the [[Commorragh]] pie. He began taking the role of an Archon of his own Kabal, leading Dark Eldar pirate fleets full of auxiliaries and freed slaves to defend the Imperium when possible, and to kill anything in the way when that cannot be done. <br />
<br />
====Angron====<br />
Basically the Dornian Heresy version of Angron, so he's a super cool zen-berserker.<br />
<br />
====Alpharius====<br />
Starts unveiling his master plan. All of this is pretty much just as planned.<br />
<br />
====Captain Morgan "Ishmael" Ironbeard====<br />
Captain Ramius and Captain Blackbeard, if he were a pirate primarch, who has a mechadendrite beard.<br />
Has this whole herald of judgement aspect about him. Like Blackbeard, he'd put lit candles in his beard to give him an aura of smoke. He'd cover himself in purity seals and have a glow of madness in his eyes.<br />
But yeah, his fleet warps in, and judgment has arrived, the towers and spires burning with warpfire. When he teleports in with his boarding party, the air crackles and smells of sulfur.<br />
He's got his own version of a Tarantino speech.<br />
He lives for the hunt, his ships are his hounds.<br />
He's a half crazed devil of a man, who sails the stars with his fleet. He strikes terror into the hearts of the foes who behold him, and when he does land his legion, it is with the trumpets of doomsday.<br />
And his men love him. They're his comrades on this grand adventure. They're his partners in all this. He'd keep iron discipline, but he doesn't need to, the crew elect their officers, pirate style. He gets along well with Russ, hard drinking and partying, but he has a frantic core to him that Russ lacks. Perhaps it was because of the time out in the void, or perhaps he has seen some darkness that Russ has not, but there's some irresistible force that drives our Captain onwards.<br />
<br />
"Ahoy heretic! Stand to and receive the Emperor's Judgement. <br />
No, belay that! Run! Run for all you're worth! Run until your poxy rump is sore, your feet blistered, and your lungs can take it no more. Let the world swim before your exhausted eyes and the angels and daemons well up from your frenzied, tattered mind.<br />
Run because the Reaper himself comes for you in his ships. <br />
Run because the hounds are baying.<br />
Run because I want a good chase."<br />
<br />
His fleet is the vanguard, out by the Halo Stars where the warp is tricky, and if he pulls an Apocalypse Now, sets himself up as a God. He sees it as giving his men and the systems he restores out in the unholy light of the Ghoul Stars something to inspire them and keep the terror at bay--seamen are always superstitious and the Halo Stars seem like home to endless eldritch Horrors. He sees a bit of religion/mysticism as a way to keep terror at bay, but, like with Lorgar, the Emperor doesn't like that, not one little bit. So he takes a battlefleet out there, but the pirate's main fleet up and vanishes into the Warp. From time to time ships reappear in realspace, their crews horribly mutated. It often falls to Russ to purge them. Rowbroat Gringus gets what the pirate leaves behind, as he's the closest and the best at restoring atheism.<br />
<br />
The story of the Second Legion is a complex one. Designed for void operations, they were insular, spending more time around naval crews and often being drawn from them. Like all mariners, they were given to superstition, though in the Legion Proper, Chaplains kept this down to an acceptable level. Still, the Emperor tried never to deploy the 2nd and the 17th to the same front.<br />
Things only took a turn for the worse when the Admiral-Theocrat of small empire out by the Halo Stars was discovered to be the Primarch of the Second Legion by none other than Lorgar. Raised by House Morgan, a family of Privateer Aristocrats, the primarch had unified the warring houses. Unfortunately for him, this role he had stepped into was traditionally of a sacred as well as temporal nature. In effect, he had become Avatar-king. It is assumed that when he met Lorgar and told him he was called Ishmael, it was this he was referring to, though Ismael was the name he gave to the Emperor and Primarchs.<br />
During his time as theocrat, he'd never been wholly comfortable with the role, preferring to be simply 'The Captain'. Despite this, he was deeply influenced by the atropaic rituals of his home cluster.<br />
<br />
While The Emperor and Morgan got along well, sharing a penchant for showmanship, Moran's tendency to try to appease the Machine Spirits in mass rituals, as well as his rites to frighten away 'warp predators' and 'gremlins' were a constant source of tension, as was Morgan's stubborness. (Perhaps another trait he inhereted from his father.)<br />
<br />
Morgan, taking the name Ironbeard, brought out the wild mariner in his men. ANCIENT MARINER! WE NEED TO HAVE ONE.<br />
<br />
Skipping ahead, Morgan was erased from history as a result of a single warp voyage. Sailing through a particularly fierce storm, several ships in the fleet, including Morgan's own, suffered partial Geller Field collapses.<br />
<br />
Personally fighting with the daemons, Morgan noted that they matched the beasts in the old void tales and that the rituals worked against them. (Stuff like Gargoyles or totems. A lot of things like how Daoist Exorcisms use fireworks to scare off daemons, except in 30k, the daemons weren't scared so much as the fact that the people had faith in it working made it work. The truesilver didn't hurt either.) Emerging from the warp with his ships still aflame with unholy fire and with massive clawmarks in the sides, Morgan sought immediate contact with the Emperor. The Emperor attempted to have them quarantined, most of the marines executed, and Morgan's memory scrubbed, Morgan bolted when he heard the 'You've seen too much.' 'No more shall I be Ishmael, I am Morgan Ironbeard and the Void shall be my home!'<br />
Taking his fleet he made a run straight to the outer rim, vowing to defend Humanity from the things in the deep. Cue Hunt for Morgan Ironbeard, as the all available ships are divirted to go after him.<br />
<br />
But they say that on quiet nights, you can still see the ghostly lights of a crusade era battle fleet, a-running through the Chronos expanse. They say the captains half man and half devil and he's chasing sommat, what none know.<br />
(A little too Cruze, don't you think?)<br />
<br />
(I was hoping that he'd be Kamina where Kruze is Gendo. Gendo sees the world sucks and gives up on everything except his mad plan. Kamina sees the world sucks and makes up a story that makes it awesome anyways.<br />
They're both scary mother fuckers, but the Pirate King has a bit more defiance to him. Kruze is the Reaper, where this guy is the leader of the Wild Hunt.)<br />
<br />
====Taimak, Son of Thunder====<br />
The Emperor's diplomat and beastmaster. The basic gist is that the Big E wasn't always so Xenophobic, was at one point (presumably before the [[Age of Strife]]) willing to work with Xenos (ie, Craftworlders) as long as they obeyed/cooperated him, which, since he's the only guy who can fight chaos head on, makes some sense.<br />
To do this, the big E made Taimak, but when the Primarchlings got swept off, the Son of Thunder ended up being found and raised by Xenos. Oops.<br />
This isn't so bad, but the Xenos in question had chaotic leanings, not that the Primarch knew this. The big E (alongside Horus and Russ, the only Primarchs he found at the time) finds him and then has to figure out how to go about quietly exterminating everyone he loves. Nice... (Which might explain why Emps let Angron's men die--if they were Khorne bait with those nails.) The Chief, bitter over this sudden genocide, decides to name the XI Legion that was assigned to him the Sons of Thunder, harkening back to the [[Thunder Warriors]] big E decided to dump because of reasons.<br />
<br />
The other primarchs around at the time are a bit leery of this weird Xenos-raised guy, chief among them Leman Russ. Thunder's tendency to do things like use Xenos Auxilia (policy and the legion has gene seed issues), have marines ride dragons, and load shells with acid scorpion spiders also rubs them the wrong way, even with Horus, who had tried to defend them as hard as he could. <br />
The Emperor tells them to shove it, and they obey for the time.<br />
When next it is found, the Craftworld is devoid of life and crawling with sinister warp signatures.<br />
<br />
Emps knows this to be the work of Daemons but can't tell anyone. He wants to try again, but he can't tell anyone, so the Primrachs kind of force him to take a more hardline stance against Xenos. He needs them to be onboard with his Nikea decisions anyways.<br />
Stable and willing marines were split among the other Legions, while the Auxilia and any who would not stand down were executed by the Space Wolves.<br />
<br />
Thunder is a badass technical pacifist who punches Klingons into realizing how awesome the Emperor is when there is no option and an excellent diplomat otherwise.<br />
<br />
The Legion is sort of styled like Space Hulk Era Dark Angels, with various sort of xenos auxilia ad technology and nightmarish xenos beasts as mounts.<br />
<br />
=== Imperial Non-Primarchs===<br />
<br />
====Order of the Eternal Icon====<br />
Formed by members of the Order of Our Martyred Lady who considered Lorgar's return as genuine after his return to Monarchia. <br />
They are a Hospitalier Order that has taken pages of faith from the Spehss Mehrens, the least of them believing in the Primarchs as saints above saints. They also have Rhinos, modified by mounting shrines with the bones of saints on them. These shrines work doubly well with Laud Hailers to restore morale.<br />
They are usually stationed in a Desert Shrine World, but they only use it as a pool for applicants. Otherwise, they stay on-fleet.<br />
They are usually ally with the Word Bearers and the Order of the Obsidian Mirror thanks to some arrangements made by a sane Konrad.<br />
<br />
====Woad Dragons====<br />
Pre-Roman celts IN SPACE that descended from the Salamanders. They have an overactive omophagea and like to consume their fallen enemies. They like to paint themselves with woad colored fluorescent paint, use assault bike drawn chariots, and like bagpipes and kilts. They hail from a desert world and are very close to its people. They're on good terms with the Ecclessiarchy because they recognize its usefulness but do not believe in their teaching, instead they believe in the Promethean cult and are very close to their parent chapter.<br />
<br />
====Blood Ravens====<br />
'''Background:''' Gabe is transporting a ruined old Land Raider unearthed by some PDF on a backwater world known as 1546 back to the Omnis Arcanum on the express orders of Chapter Master Azariah Kyras, when the Old Inquisitor's message is received by the astropaths on board the Litany of Fury. For sake of chronology, [[Dawn of War]] I and II didn't happen.<br />
<br />
'''Part I'''<br />
<br />
“Let all who are loyal to the Emperor, rush to defend Holy Terra from invasion!”<br />
<br />
That was the message relayed by the astropaths to the crew of the Litany of Fury, along with the detachment of Blood Ravens Space Marines on board. Three companies, comprising the 3rd, 4th, and 6th Companies of the Blood Ravens Chapter were present, with Gabriel Angelos, 3rd Company captain as Force Commander.<br />
<br />
When he had heard it, he was entirely unsure of what to believe. The thought that Holy Terra was under siege incensed him, but the latest reports showed that a Black Crusade had only just been launched and was long yet to reach even Cadia. Nothing in the message made sense. Primarchs returned? Terra besieged? And an Inquisitor threatening to demolish the most sacred site in the galaxy with cyclonic torpedoes.<br />
<br />
He called on Davian Thule, 4th Company captain, and asked “What do you think it means Davian?” Davian hesitated for a moment before answering, “I don't know what to think Brother-Captain. Primarchs and Terra under siege... It's incredible... Could it be that the traitor Primarchs have found some foul sorcery to transport themselves instantaneously?” Thule's face contorted in disgust at the idea.<br />
<br />
“I do not think so Davian. I am certain that our beloved Emperor would be able to guard against such sorcery with his mighty will. Still, this presents us with a problem. We have our orders to return to Chapter Master Kyras with our cargo but if Terra is besieged by enemies then we must divert course as quickly as possible.”<br />
<br />
“Do we even know who or what is besieging Terra, truly?” Davian asked.<br />
<br />
“No,” Gabriel replied, “but as long as they threaten our Emperor, then they are our enemies. Our duty is clear. Things will become clearer when we reach our destination, of that I have no doubt.”<br />
<br />
He turned to the on-board voxcaster and hailed the bridge. “Bridge, this is Captain Gabriel Angelos. Our orders have been put on hold for now. Set course for Segmentum Solar. We are moving to defend Terra, over.”<br />
<br />
The voxcaster crackled with a response, “Bridge to Captain Angelos, Captain Andronichus speaking. Understood. Bastards won't know what hit them.”<br />
<br />
It would be at least 2-3 months travel on board the Battle Barge from their current position but Gabriel knew that the Imperial palace could easily survive a decade's long siege, but still his mind was restless. He hated having so little information about what was going on. His purpose was clear though, none would dare threaten his beloved Imperium and Emperor as long as he drew breath. He would bring the fury of the entire Blood Ravens Chapter down upon these foul beings, if need be.<br />
<br />
'''Part II'''<br />
<br />
>One month later, on board the Omnis Arcanum...<br />
<br />
“Chapter Master Kyras, we've received a message from Captain Angelos,” one of the chapter serfs informed the hulking figure of Azariah Kyras. “He reports that he has recovered the Land Raider and is en route now to deliver it to the Omnis Arcanum...”<br />
<br />
Kyras cut him off with a loud “Excellent! Soon we shall return this great machine to the battlefield and lay waste to our foes.” He smiled as he thought to himself “If my suspicions are correct then I have found the Obsidian Chariot itself and I will take great pleasure in dedicating it to mighty Khorne, as well as depriving the Salamanders of a prize, as well as their Primarch.”<br />
<br />
However the serf spoke again. “My lord, that wasn't the entire message.” “Oh? Well then continue. What else does Angelos report?”<br />
<br />
“He has informed us that he has diverted course to Segmentum Solar to aid in the defence of Terra and will send word as soon as he has new information.”<br />
<br />
Kyras' fury was easily visible on his face. Did Angelos know what he had there? Vulkan's own Land Raider would certainly be quite the boon to any force who managed to deploy it.“How dare he defy my orders?!” he raged. “Tell the astropaths to send Captain Angelos this message: He is to return to the Omnis Arcanum with the Land Raider immediately!” he bellowed to the young serf, when he remembered that this was a serf he had not yet managed to corrupt. Quickly recovering himself, he added: “It would be foolish to attempt an assault on the forces besieging Terra with only three ships and three companies of Marines. He should return from his current mission and then we will decide what to do about Terra.” “At once my lord,” the serf replied, still slightly frightened from the Chapter Master's outburst.<br />
<br />
“Angelos...” he muttered through gritted teeth. His thoughts turning to the 3rd Company captain, “He has doubted me from the second I returned from the Judgement of Carrion. He watches and waits for me to make a mistake, so he can then denounce me in front of the entire Chapter! But I will not allow him the satisfaction!”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
> The Litany of Fury, also a month later...<br />
<br />
Gabriel had gathered the Headquarters units of all three companies under his command in the briefing room of the Litany of Fury to discuss the recent and future events. The Siege of Terra was well under way. The astropaths were still receiving messages infrequently urging all loyal units, be they Astartes or Guardsmen, to hurry to Terra's relief. <br />
<br />
“My brothers,” Gabriel began, when everyone had settled into the room, “a month has passed and we have learned some more about the situation on Terra. Our own 3rd Company Librarian Isador Akios has been attempting to send messages to the Inquisitor responsible for our weekly assistance calls. Isador?”<br />
<br />
“Yes, Gabriel,” he announced as he stood to take the floor Gabriel had yielded. “My attempts were focussed on relaying a message to the source of the messages we have been receiving. In the past month that we have been travelling I have sensed, as I'm sure my Brother-Librarians gathered here have as well, that the messages being sent were from a single source, rather than the efforts of a psychic choir.<br />
<br />
“This would of course imply the sender is indeed a powerful psyker being able to send such clear communications through the void at such great distances and I believe I know who it is. Inquisitor-Lord Mazzini, an old, and frail-bodied man but with a mental and psychic strength that far exceeds our own Chief Librarian, Chapter Master Kyras.<br />
<br />
“I met him once. He toured the Librarium of the Omnis Arcanum some years ago to survey some of the relics our chapter has recovered.” Davian Thule made an audible cough.<br />
<br />
“What was your opinion of him when you met him, Isador?” enquired Gabriel. “A hard liner in every sense,” was the Librarian's reply. “He recited four different Litanies of Hate, four times in a day, every day. One for the Eldar, one for the Orks, one for the Tau, and finally one for heretics. He spat his words most frequently when reciting that one. I think his inspection of our chapter's relics was motivated by a hunt for anything tainted by the Warp. His faith in the God-Emperor borders on obsession. If Terra were to be threatened, in the absence of any real leadership, I could see him attempting to seize control and, if need be... destroy Terra itself.”<br />
<br />
“I see,” said Gabriel thoughtfully. “You, as well as our other honoured Librarians, have also been sending out messages into the void to gather information on the foes besieging Terra. Do you have anything new to report?”<br />
<br />
“I've been in contact with a number of astropathic choirs from various out posts and they all say that a large fleet emerged from the Warp that travelled from Segmentum Pacificus, and having conferred with our other Librarians, they confirm this much.”<br />
<br />
“Another potential Pacificus rebellion, it would seem. There's something else though, isn't there?” questioned Gabriel, with a hint of irritation that Isador didn't immediately tell them (or him) everything.<br />
<br />
Isador hesitated for a moment then continued. “There are some scattered reports of the Pacificus forces bearing the insignia of the Luna Wolves. As well as the Word Bearers, World Eaters, Emperor's Children, the Iron Hands, and so on. Every legion that fell or lost a Primarch has been reported as currently besieging Terra itself.”<br />
<br />
The room stood silent and Isador resumed his seat.<br />
<br />
====Valdor?====<br />
<br />
===Chaos===<br />
<br />
===Necrons===<br />
<br />
====[[Trazyn the Infinite]]====<br />
Turns out he's been trying to rebuild [[Vulkan]]. Guess he wanted an autograph? He proves instrumental in bringing Necrons into an alliance with the Imperium.<br />
In the words of Anon:<br />
I was wondering where will Vulkan go, and as my headcanon is that his body (and thus one of the artifacts) is at Trazyn's place, I imagine Vulkan going to Tomb World of Solemnace and having this speech (I'll try my best in writing, but I'm no writefag):<br />
<br />
>You knew about the gift I had from my father, and thus you knew that despite the fact that my body appeared to be dead, I was not. You thought that due to my state, I am unable to hear you, but I could. Many times you tried to pull that spear from my body, sometimes trying to destroy it along with the spear. When you learned about the legend of my return once my Artefacts will be gathered, you start to gather them and using them to destroy the spear, for the sake of releasing me. For that, you have my thanks, as deep within my heart, I see you as a friend. And I see no better way to thank you than through giving you something I have created right after being released from this state in that Warpstorm. This is something I based on your symbol of rule, let it serve you well in the incoming years of our cooperation, my friend, Trazyn the Infinite.<br />
<br />
===Tau===<br />
With the Primarchs now fully assembled, the gods of Chaos now have to find other subjects to exploit en masse. To this end, they decide to work on the Tau Empire, some of it becoming lost in a Warp Storm. They corrupt a few Ethereals here, give a couple guys some "gifts" there, and then let them loose to kill shit.<br />
====Farsight Enclaves====<br />
The few Tau already aware of Chaos, Commander Farsight and his merry band of rebels become impromptu heretic-hunters.<br />
<br />
==Rough Timeline of Events==<br />
===How E-Money and C-Roach pulled this off, one version===<br />
The Cabal fucked up. Majorly. Emps-Senpai was supposed to die and with his survival, any semblance of their plan working perished. They could, however, try something else, namely fixing their mistake. <br />
It took time. A lot of time, but fortunately they had that.<br />
It took centuries to contact the Emperor in the Warp, centuries more before he was willing to hear them out.<br />
Many a Farseer's head exploded with the Emperor's rage.<br />
Finally, the Cabal convinced Alpharius, who also had cut off ties with the Cabal following the [[Horus Heresy|Horus debacle]] to follow a troupe of Harlequins into the webway. Their purpose: to find the segment of the webway that linked up with the Golden Throne, in hopes that Alpharius could speak with the Emperor directly. Sensing his son's purity, the Emperor allowed Alpharius to speak with him and Alpharius explained everything. From that point on, Alpha Legion used the webway to keep the Emperor appraised of their plans. (Perhaps in all of this, Jagatai stumbled upon them whilst hunting Deldar? They captured him and brought him before the Emperor, who explained things. Jagatai slugged Alpharius and Omegon, but forgave them. As the centuries passed, the plan took shape. The only hope against Chaos was the return of the Primarchs. With their faith in the Emperor, they could defeat the worst of Chaos and allow the God Emperor and Cegorrach to ascend as pre-eminent deities. Later, contact with Malal caused them to factor it into their plans.<br />
The plan was somewhat simple. The only way to get back the Primarchs was to either reforge them of warp stuff or steal them from parallel universes. The former would make them basically Greater Daemons, a bit too unstable for their purposes. The later would disrupt other timelines if not done carefully.<br />
The solution they came to was to pull part of a primarch's essence from a parallel timeline and fill in the rest with warpstuff, courtesy of the Emperor's will.<br />
To do this, however, required massive amounts of warp energy and an ability to travel through time. The second task was comparatively simple. The Ordo Chronos was established and set to work designing time machines. Alpha Legion moles fed information to the conspirators and when the time was right, they took the technology and allowed the Ordo to disappear.<br />
<br />
The former task was more difficult. The Emperor could draw warp energy from his followers, from the faith of man and from the sacrifice of psykers. This required dire times for man, so that their faith would be called upon again and again. Thus the 10,000 years of suffering were needed for the plan to succeed. But even then, that would not be enough power and the storage and expenditure would draw the eyes of the other Chaos Gods, so means were devised to funnel warp energy from the others.<br />
The two main players in this were Cypher and the Alpha Legion. By creating situations to power the big 4, they were able to hide the amounts that they siphoned for the Emperor, mostly via Malal. As time went on, Lady Malys became an agent of Cegorach and she too plans to siphon energy to the Emperor when the time comes, in return for a place at Cegorach's side as a demigod.<br />
<br />
With the plans laid, all that remained was to collect the fury of the warp and wait for a moment when the Chaos gods would be too focused elsewhere to notice what was afoot.<br />
This chance came during the 13th Black Crusade. At the precise moment of the fall of Cadia, the plan went into effect. The Primarchs were copied from favorable parallels, along with their legions and some of their support personnel. (the two missing primarchs were also brought back. See the wiki for our tentative work on them.)<br />
Thus it was that the Great Crusade started anew.<br />
<br />
===Then what?===<br />
<br />
*They emerge.<br />
<br />
*The precise means of confirming their identity is uncertain. Valdor? Vulkan lives? (Russ' validity is confirmed by his old pal [[Bjorn]])<br />
<br />
*Some hyper conservative Inquisitor holds Terra hostage with cyclonic torpedoes, threatening to blow it up if they don't get their way. They also somehow manage to get the [[Officio Assassinorum]] on his side, too. They've quite literally holed up on Terra in the Assassin temples with a cyclonic torpedo on a dead man's switch. Anyone who wants to get to them has to get through the Assassins first, too. <br />
<br />
The original Alpha Legion emerges from the warp and kill/destroy all the forces opposing the original Legions. Then when message comes that Holy Terra itself is being besieged by ruinous powers or chaos, Loyalists would run to rescue it. The Alpha Legion, intent on keeping cover until the end, passes a slight heads up to the other Primarchs through the [[Order of the Obsidian Mirror]], allowing them to hook up with Ironbeard, Corax, and Kurze for awesome out of the shadows hijinks.<br />
Then, after assaulting, the Alpha Legion would go "Oh noes, the loyalists, the primarchs, the real saviors of the empire, we're beat, retreat" over all the vox channels and then retreat into the warp portals.<br />
<br />
Funny thing is there would be no Alpha Legionnares casualties, and only traitors and possible traitors would have died in the couple of days long invasion.<br />
<br />
So the loyalists would be on Terra, as heroes and without political opposition. And no one would ever ask any questions.<br />
<br />
Just as planned.<br />
<br />
Hydra Fucking Dominatus.<br />
<br />
*Primarchs split up to stabilize things. Around this time Ferrus visits his legion and Fulgrim learns of his deeds.<br />
<br />
*?????<br />
<br />
*Primarchs get shit done<br />
<br />
*All Glory to the Imperium!<br />
<br />
===Some ideas that came up during writefagging===<br />
<br />
NOTE: This is all made up during the second thread, where a few writefags decided to write up on the events and needed a semi-coherent view of them.<br />
<br />
It's been discussed that it goes as follows:<br />
<br />
1. Russ meets Lorgar reborn and they send word to those Primarchs that were not technically dead - Lion, Guilliman, Vulcan, and together with some other Primarchs they meet up, Horus takes the lead after taking upon himself to gain redemption through victory over heretics<br />
<br />
2. Inquisitors take control of Terra, loyalists move in and take control<br />
<br />
3. Black Crusade finally arrives at Terra with Primarchs setting up defensive positions<br />
<br />
4. [[anal circumference|Battle]] ensues<br />
<br />
5. Khan moves in with whatever pirate/stolen DE fleet he managed to snag with his Kabal<br />
<br />
6. Dark Eldar move in pursuit, joining the fray<br />
<br />
7. Battle is won, [[Great Crusade]] 2: Electric Boogaloo commences<br />
<br />
8. EDITED: Magnus is working on reviving [[Emperor|the ultimate badass]] only after they've dealt with the Chaos invasion<br />
<br />
As has been stated in the foreword, this is all prone to debating and/or fixing, but so far it's been working well and based upon this writefaggotry commenced, resulting in [[awesome]].<br />
<br />
==Bits of Awesome==<br />
<br />
Primarch stories have been moved.<br />
<br />
{{Main|Return of the Primarchs: The Primarchs}}<br />
<br />
===Creed's Daring Escape===<br />
The despoiler was not pleased!<br/><br />
NOT PLEASED AT ALL!<br/><br />
He had heard rumours that Horus himself had come back from the dead!<br/><br />
And that he was slaying his chaotic brethren!<br/><br />
Magnus had commited suicide after another Magnus had shown up.<br/><br />
AND THE SPACE MARINES STARTED TO REFORM THEIR LEGIONS!<br/><br />
No matter.<br/><br />
Today would be good, today he would finally destroy Cadia, down on men or not.<br/><br />
His land raider crashed through the gates of a fortress.<br/><br />
And he noticed it was...empty.<br/><br />
All of it, empty.<br/><br />
He stomped into the offices and found a door.<br/><br />
"Lord Castellan Ursarkar E. Creed"<br/><br />
"Pfft, what a ridiculous name."<br/><br />
He kicked open the door, a chair was turned towards the window.<br/><br />
Abbadon then stomped to the chair, smirking, shoving his talon through it.<br/><br />
He turned it around to reveal...a dummy...cigar and all.<br/><br />
and a small sign from around it.<br/><br />
"I.O.U - Creed."<br />
<br />
"....C...C-c-cr-creee-creeee-creeeeeeeeeee."<br />
<br />
"[[Creed|CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED!]]"<br />
<br />
===Argel Tal and [[Kharn]]===<br />
Another day, another population put to the axe.<br/><br />
It had become so damn routine to Kharn the Betrayer that it was almost impossible think about anything else other than how boring it was to kill these ordinary people. So when word came of Space Marines coming to this planet, it had given the Chosen of Khorne hope that this day could be salvaged somehow.<br />
<br />
It was almost an insult to send the entire Word Bearers fleet to a single planet, much less to kill a single man, but this was a goodwill mission. Lorgar wanted to have the people on his side.<br/><br />
Instead of that overkill, it was Argel Tal who took the charge. Argel Tal had, after the public execution of Kor Phaeron, become the new First Captain of the Legion. While Lorgar felt that the notion was almost too prophetic in nature for the man who was the Crimson Lord of this timeline, he had let it pass as the captain had an incorrigible sense of honour. Tal took with him an elite company to ensure that only one man was responsible.<br />
<br />
"Wait..."<br/><br />
The Betrayer had certainly seen weirder stuff before in the warp, but this was a first. In front of him stood a warrior in immaculate grey armor, a book adorned to his left pauldron. Even more pressing was the notion he was getting. He didn't even know he had notions.<br/><br />
"I recognize you from somewhere. Where was it?"<br/><br />
Argel Tal responded, "I surely do not recognize you, red fiend."<br/><br />
It was ridiculous. His job was to slaughter, so why was he thinking? What was it about this stranger that had Kharn's mind racing?<br/><br />
"Say..." Forget it. The memory will come eventually. He took a single swipe with Gorechild.<br/><br />
"A poorly chosen first move. I had too much room to block you."<br/><br />
Somebody dared criticize his fighting technique? He, the son of Khorne? What madness-no, wait. The memories again... Ages ago, before his armor had so much blood on it. Damn it, who was this person?<br/><br />
"I know you from somewhere, Astartes!" Another swing with Gorechild. Another parry. Again. Again. "I WILL find out, even if I need to kill you before then!"<br />
Argel Tal was humored by the butcher's words. "I just have to incense you enough to remember then?"<br/><br />
"I will NOT be made mocked, much less by a corpse-slave!" This was better, Kharn thought. Kill, don't think. As a matter of fact, stop thinking. Thinking gets in the way of killing.<br/><br />
Another parry, this time using Kharn's momentum to force Gorechild to the ground, and then kicking him square in the ribs and then using that same spin to swipe his sword, leaving a scratch upon his helm. This man had to have learned that move from somewhere. Moreso, he had to have learned it in a Gladiator Pit. Wait...<br />
"You almost seem to fight like Kharn." What? His name? "So much anger, and he finds the only release for it in killing." <br/><br />
"You know me." The Betrayer took rise. "YOU KNOW ME!! WHY DON'T I REMEMBER YOU?!" <br/><br />
Argel Tal smirked. "Hardly my fault." <br/><br />
Kharn then took notice of the prow of the Astartes craft. A Two-headed eagle, the bawdy trinket of that Imperium. Funny, it was under the shadow of one of these that he saw the corpse of...<br/><br />
"ARGEL TAL..."<br/><br />
"Ah, so you do have a mind."<br/><br />
This was perfect! He remembered now, that Word Bearer he was friends with once! Okay, friend was a bit of a stretch for World Eaters, but it was something!<br />
"Now I remember...! Now I have a reason to kill you!"<br/><br />
Argel Tal cocked his head. "Would that mean I recognize you?"<br/><br />
Kharn raised Gorechild high in the air. "Know this, Colchisian! I am Kharn the Betrayer, Chosen of Khorne, Butcher of Legions! I will kill everyone and their skulls will go to Khorne!" He lowered his chainaxe and then turned around.<br/><br />
"Does this mean you're a coward, too?"<br/><br />
<br />
Kharn stopped. A violent glare erupted. "You misunderstand me. I do not need to kill you. I already had my fill. But next time I hunger, know that you will be next."<br />
<br />
===Kharn's Paradox (aka Kharn vs. Kharn)===<br />
For the second time in so many weeks, [[Kharn]] the Betrayer, Chosen of Khorne, was confronted by something that very clearly should not be. Not because it was just wrong, mind, for he has killed enough Slaaneshi Daemons to effectively nullify that sort of sensation, but because the very aspect of this happening was beyond theoretically possible.<br />
<br />
Because what was in front of him...was himself.<br />
<br />
Or rather, what stood in front of him in a shared sense of confusion was not exactly him, but what he once was. His armour a crisp shade of blue and white. In his hand, a rather crude slab of metal, decorated in many jagged edges and acid etchings. No mistaking it, this person was Kharn the Captain of the Eighth Company.<br />
<br />
"The frak are you looking at?" The white one asked.<br />
<br />
The red one craned his head, trying to figure out what in this image was an illusion. The captain, he looked genuine enough, the sword, definitely not a chainaxe. And the antiquated plasma pistol was definitely still there. So then what exactly was it that felt wrong?<br />
<br />
He gave up as he began marching, revving up Gorechild for another go at killing things.<br />
<br />
"That Chainaxe...why are you using it?"<br />
<br />
The Betrayer looked at the white copy with suspicion. "This is a gift. Now why do you listen to a rotting corpse on a chair?"<br />
<br />
The Loyalist was not fazed by the question. "I would suspect that it has something to do with the reason you listen to something favours mindless murder for murder's sake."<br />
<br />
Okay, this wit was grinding on his nerves and, for a World Eater, that usually resulted in dead people by the mountains. Kharn made his charge.<br />
<br />
Kharn took the challenge and kept the blade at an even leveling as the red monster made a charge. The red monster made a massive overhead swing. Seeing this far before the Betrayer could get there, there were some Librarians who tried to make some sort of effort to distract the red butcher. Those efforts were in vain.<br />
<br />
The Blood God's blessing made the powers fizzle out before they could reach him.<br />
<br />
Captain Kharn made his own tackle before the Betrayer could make it, aware of the terrifying power of a Chainaxe.<br />
He made a solid straight to the Betrayer's sternum. Another on his helmet, reaching a scar that looked like it was made by a power sword.<br />
<br />
"So you aren't a lie! Good to know," the Betrayer commented he recovered from the blows. "It means killing you isn't really going to screw with me or else you would have felt that broken sternum."<br />
<br />
"Just shut up, you bloody madman!" the Captain sent another punch to the head, but the Betrayer managed to turn his head just in time. As the Captain reeled back his fist, the Betrayer took his armoured hand off Gorechild sent it on the Captain's head, knocking him off.<br />
<br />
He took his time to get up, looking at the Captain grab the steel slab. Another rev.<br />
<br />
"This is almost too easy."<br />
<br />
"It is." The Captain was keeping an eye on the Betrayer as the two began circling each other. The Captain found a chainaxe in the hands of a fallen brother and grabbed it. "Now we are even."<br />
<br />
Another charge by the Betrayer. The two chainaxes clash, locking teeth with each other. A break, and another clash. And another clash.<br />
<br />
The two Kharns were evenly matched in their ferocity, and those World Eaters, both loyalist and traitor, understood that as they watched. The only breaking point would be if one of them were to lose their focus. Even a second could possibly spell their end.<br />
<br />
"Your blood is mine, impostor!" <br/><br />
"Your chainaxe is going back to it's owner!"<br/><br />
"Like he can hold it?! His hands are far too big now to even use it as a toothpick!"<br/><br />
"I hardly believe that!"<br/><br />
"Your mind would be too weak to comprehend the liberation of Chaos!"<br />
<br />
The Captain threw a boot at the Betrayer, breaking their stalemate and giving him a chance to swipe his chainaxe, leaving a massive gash upon the Betrayer's armour, oozing with blood.<br />
<br />
He was not moved, though. The Betrayer merely looked at his damaged armour, gazed up at his adversary, and revved again.<br />
<br />
"I say... Between meeting that weird imitator and you, this is definitely going to be an interesting war..." the Betrayer commented as he looked at his blood.<br />
<br />
"You just seem to never shut up and die, do you?"<br />
<br />
"In these last ten thousand years, I have practically made death terrified of me. Because when I do die..." The Betrayer swung his axe again, and again, their chains clashed. "I know that I will make sure that everyone will go down in flames with me!" The two broke off, the Betrayer preparing another swing. "Blood for the Blood God! Be it yours or mine, our blood will be a gift!"<br />
<br />
The Captain, having had enough of this, grabbed his sword again, keeping it on guard while his chainaxe was on offense. However, instead of charging as he thought the Betrayer would, all the Betrayer did was raise a plasma pistol.<br />
<br />
"Never thought of you as pragmatic."<br />
<br />
The Betrayer did not humor him as he opened fire. at point-blank, there was little the Captain could do besides try to direct it at the pauldrons, where the armour was thickest. The supreheated energy broke through the armour, but did little else.<br />
The Betrayer took his time stepping forward, enjoying the kill. By the time the Captain could get up, he noticed how close he was to getting killed by his red doppelganger.<br />
<br />
"I will enjoy this far more than I honestly should...Kharn."<br />
<br />
"And I am going to enjoy making you bleed some more once I get there."<br />
<br />
Just as the Betrayer was about to stomp on the Captain, the Captain placed his chainaxe in the way of the red boot, trapping the foot and tearing out chunks of it before backing off.<br />
<br />
The two stood up again, and the Betrayer was not happy about this. He aimed his pistol again.<br />
<br />
Instead of charging again, though, the Captain merely commented, "You know, that was a stupid move on my part. Should stick to what I know." He dropped the blade and drew his own plasma pistol, smaller than the Betrayers, but far quicker at firing.<br />
<br />
The Captain took at the scar, while the Betrayer began taking aim elsewhere, seeing how much he can cripple his double.<br/><br />
Both Kharns hit their targets, and it is again the Captain that stops first, unable to meet the Blood God's rage. Not like he needed to anyway. He just needed an opportunity, and a raging red berserker offered far more than just one. The Captain took his good shoulder and ran straight into the Betrayer and, with a single motion, threw the Betrayer overhead.<br />
<br />
Keeping up with the momentum, the Captain then rushed over, chainaxe whining away as he readied a killing blow, and...<br />
<br />
Both of them hit the other with their axes. Kharn the Captain struck Kharn the Betrayer on the chest, near his bare arm, but instead got a chainsword stuck on his weakened pauldron. Both of them bit away, but that was not for long. Both warriors would be at their limits with this.<br />
<br />
"So, I'm dying with you of all people?"<br />
<br />
"I take that as a compliment, you fake. Our blood goes to Khorne all the same."<br />
<br />
"I will not. The Emperor will protect me."<br />
<br />
"You do know he's dead?"<br />
<br />
"For now. But soon, he will return. I've seen it, and I will make sure it happens."<br />
<br />
The betrayer chuckled. "Good luck on that. Even if I die, more will come in my place. We will never stop, even if you kill us all."<br />
<br />
Another dig, and then...Captain Kharn lost senses.<br />
<br />
"Get up."<br />
<br />
Captain Kharn stood up wearily, noticing the gash on his shoulder bleeding onto his armour. How was he even still able to- <br />
<br />
Wait.<br />
<br />
The Captain's senses snapped to attention as he saw that the sky was now turned into a hue of bloody red, the corpses around them now dyed in blood instead of their normal colours, and the blazing heat.<br />
<br />
"I suppose that you at least are able to take a hit like me," he turned to see the Betrayer, armour still terribly scarred, looking at him. "Good thing too. It seems that we are far from over."<br />
<br />
"Where...where are we...?"<br />
<br />
The fires rose all around them. "It seems that our little struggle has earned Khorne's interest. Take pride, for I have never met such an equal on the field."<br />
<br />
That meant that... "This...is the Warp?"<br />
<br />
The Betrayer revved his blade. "Our only escape is paid in blood. Yours, mine, either."<br />
<br />
"Why? Why does he even bother with this. I am already dead, right?"<br />
<br />
"Because within the ten thousand years I have been alive," the Betrayer grimly answered, "I have never met a warrior even capable of equaling me in battle. I have died before, yes, but...like this, I have never died." He raised his hands to the sky, feeling the fires of hell itself lash out at him. "Our battle will never end. We will fight, and fight, and fight again, and if either of us ever die, it will never be the end."<br />
<br />
Neverending combat. It was just the thing that Khorne would want. The true champion would be the last one standing, and they would gain his full blessing, add some. The loser gets only a painful death, and an even more painful afterlife.<br />
<br />
The Captain would have accepted this. Perhaps they would have fought til the end of time itself, the name Kharn ringing throughout the cosmos as the one man who can stop himself.<br />
<br />
Except that this Captain Kharn was not the one who became a heretic. He knew better than that.<br />
<br />
The Captain dropped his weapons.<br />
<br />
"What are you-"<br />
<br />
"I am done with this. Seriously, I have better things to do than fight an endless battle with a deranged madman who seems stuck on repeat about murder."<br />
<br />
The Betrayer felt his blood boil. "You...DARE...?"<br />
<br />
The Captain began walking. "I do."<br />
<br />
The Betrayer would not take this insult. This filth, this impostor, he was walking away from such a gift? He would deny Khorne the very thing he was?<br />
<br />
"You cannot leave...! You will NOT leave! Your blood will be spilled, coward!"<br />
<br />
The Captain turned back.<br />
"How am I the coward when it has become clear which one of us is going back to killing like some old toy, physically and mentally incapable of doing or thinking about anything more than that? How am I the coward when all one of us is even trying to do is appease some god with a present like he will actually appreciate that?"<br />
<br />
The Betrayer's rage was reaching a fever pitch. The more that the Captain spewed, the more it infuriated him. This cannot stand. This will not stand!<br />
<br />
"So go ahead. Kill me, if you think that is going to prove me wrong. Honestly, I just want to get back to whatever I was doing before that. Find out how long that damn blind bastard will take before he can get to work."<br />
<br />
A horrid war howl erupted as the Betrayer made a charge. All the Captain bothered to do in response was grab his weapons and then make one dive off.<br />
<br />
"COWARD!! I WILL FIND YOU! I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN TO THE ENDS OF THE WARP!!!" <br/><br />
"YEAH, SURE! GET BACK TO ME THE MOMENT YOU CAN FIND SOMETHING MORE AMUSING TO YOU THAN KILLING PEOPLE!"<br />
<br />
The fires were rushing. They seared, but his amrour did not melt. It stung, but his skin did not char. The fires of the Warp raged all around, and while he could not see the pain, he could sure feel it.<br />
<br />
"We found a survivor!"<br />
<br />
The Captain woke up again, this time standing, back in the warzone, but...the Betrayer was gone.<br />
<br />
"Captain Kharn! He's alive!" He turned to the left, he recognized these people. Blue and White... Right, he was deployed with them. "Sheesh, how did you vanish off the face of the planet?"<br />
<br />
"I told you to stop worrying." A hoarser voice growled. He turned behind and found the man he called father looking straight down at him. "Hope you enjoyed your little trip. Whatever you did, I really do not care."<br />
<br />
"Whatever he was..." the Captain commented, "He was just a cheap copy anyway. Always murdering just to adjust to simpler things." Something struck him. "Funny, I think I heard from Argel Tal about a red-armoured lunatic that went insane on him too, but...he spared the Captain. Idiot."<br />
<br />
"Who said you could go on reminiscing?" The Primarch growled. "We still have a planet to clean up, and these tools need something to be used on!"<br />
<br />
Absentmindedly, the Captain stabbed his giant metal blade into the dirt.<br />
<br />
This would serve to be the resting place of Kharn. Betrayer, Captain, Tool of the Blood God.<br />
<br />
===Clash of Pirates===<br />
''>Korianis Sector, Subsector Daranis''<br />
<br />
The Rogue Trader Sebastus Arrelia was accompanied by a small fleet of vessels. While some of them were merely escorts and one Explorator Vessel who was paying him handsomely for a chance to work on the Archaeotech Drive in his flagship, there were also three ships of Astartes. However, their heraldry appeared to be something he never noticed before.<br/><br />
For one, it was made of dark, smoky gray with a skull as an emblem. However, they were more than capable allies, and their commander, a Captain "Calico" Jacques, was actually a very sociable person who seems to dispel every myth about the Adeptus Astartes just by his very existence.<br />
<br />
The Trader had just made his way from a re-supply station, having taken a few rotations in the crew, and made some nice profit from what he sold. While he was calculating this profit, he had found a message his Astropath intercepted.<br />
<br />
"ARRIGHT YA FILTHY GITZ, YOOZ BEST HAND OVAH ALL YER LOOT, OR YOUZE GONNA GET RUN OVER FLAT BY THE GREAT KAPTIN BLUDDFLAGG!!!"<br />
<br />
It took a moment before everything settled in.<br/><br />
"I say," Sebastus commented, "Did that message just say that we were about to be robbed by...Orks?"<br/><br />
"Indeed, sire," the Astropath replied.<br/><br />
"That's...rather dreadful," he shooed the psyker off. "I'll summon the Arch-Militant. Best figure what would be the wisest move."<br />
<br />
The Arch-Militant, a dreadfully morose bastard son of a Cardinal, was informed of the case.<br/><br />
"We have no chance of combating these Orks," he answered.<br/><br />
"Now, tell me, why is that?"<br/><br />
"These Orks," he told Sebastus, "they're the crew of Kaptin Bluddflagg. He's tried to raid Subsector Aurelia before, only to get pushed off by those Blood Ravens."<br/><br />
"We have Astartes of our own, don't we?" Sebastus asked.<br/><br />
"Would you really consider now to be a proper time to test their reliability?"<br/><br />
The trader leaner forward in his seat. "We have no better chance to see an Astartes' reliability than in the field of battle."<br />
<br />
Soon enough, a Kill-Krooza of incredible size apparated from the warp, and again the message played, much to the Astropath's discomfort.<br />
<br />
Just before they entered range, there was one last message left by the Orks:<br/><br />
"WELL? YOUZE GONNA GIVE US DA KIT OR IZ I SUPPOS'TA SMASH YA TA GEDDIT?"<br />
<br />
The Arch-Militant insisted, "You can't be seriously thinking of-"<br/><br />
"Torpedoes away." Sebastus cut them off. The crew began loading torpedoes. "If they want this ship, they'll have to get it from my cold, dead hands."<br />
<br />
The escorts started forward, expecting to open fire together against the Orky monstrosity when a small pack of ships, all larger and more heavily armed than the escorts, emerged behind the Krooza.<br />
<br />
As the Attack Craft began dogfighting, the lead Astartes Vessel began boarding the Rogue Trader's ship.<br/><br />
Here, the Captain and a few of his troops began dispersing among the walls of the ship, anticipating the inevitable boarding.<br/><br />
Meanwhile, another ship came to the defense of the Explorators, who were left exposed with the escorts slowly getting taken over by the Ork vessels.<br />
<br />
It was in the Trader Vessel that Jacques began another tactic.<br/><br />
With access to communication, he found a way to get to the Orks.<br />
<br />
"OI! OO'Z DIS DAMN GROT DATZ TRYIN' TO GET FROO TO US?!"<br/><br />
"You best learn my name soon, you flea-suckin' dirtbags," he replied, "cause you're going up against the vessels of the great Calico Jacques!" <br/><br />
"PFFFFAHAHAHAHAHA, DIS HUMIE'Z FUNNY. I WANT HIS SKULL!"<br />
<br />
As the Orks broke off, Sebastus began asking, "Umm... is that Ork now trying to raid my ship?"<br/><br />
"You act like that's not gonna happen anyway."<br/><br />
Sebastus did not take that as well. "Y-you maniac! This vessel is priceless! PRICELESS!! I can't possibly afford to repair all this!"<br/><br />
Jacques turned back to his forces, "Ah, you worry too much about this! I've got brothers here who can definitely take them on!"<br />
<br />
Jacques went to the engine deck, which was where he assumed the Orks would come to at some point or another. To mirror the need to defend this point, he also stationed a good number of his troops on this deck to keep guard.<br />
<br />
"Alright," he opened up, "Who wants to lead the wartime shanty?"<br/><br />
The battle-brothers eagerly joined in, nominating via a competition amongst themselves. It was whittled to a Sergeant Corril, who led a company of Assault Marines armed with blast shields and an anchor in place of jump packs.<br />
<br />
''>Once was a storm unlike any other<br/><br />
>The men all shook up and the ship, she would quiver<br/><br />
>Goblins came out and they tore through the crew<br/><br />
>STAND FIRM, YOUNG MEN! FIGHT WHEN YOU'RE TOLD TO!<br/><br />
>They had fear in their eyes,<br/><br />
>And the cap's lash on their hinds<br/><br />
>STAND FIRM, YOUNG MEN! FIGHT WHEN YOU'RE TOLD TO!''<br />
<br />
The Shanty motivated the men to stand and fight the Orks, who soon came to attack on the starboard side of the Engine deck. As the Orks began to board, the moralized Astartes charged towards the boarding party, Sergant Corril at the front with his Anchor. The massive instrument proved to be an able weapon, as his swings immediately pulped the Orks in front of him. Meanwhile, his squad had their shields raised to deflect incoming fire. Further behind were the Devastators, who were making use of both their heavy bolters as well as some autoguns they found stashed by the crew. The autoguns in particular kept the Orks' attention, the dakka from those guns being just the thing they wanted.<br/><br />
However, that was just the thing they wanted, as the Orks blindly walked into the Assault team's chainswords. Those greenskins foolish enough were eviscerated.<br />
<br />
As soon as the wave of green ended, the Captain took charge. He was going to take the boarding vessel and claim it as his own.<br/><br />
Their entry was greeted by more waves of Orks, but it was clear that these ones were not nearly as strong as the boarders, perhaps not being as experienced in combat.<br/><br />
Half of the crew grabbed what they could from the Orky ship and then used it to repair the hole in the ship alongside any enginseers that were brave enough to stand alongside these Space Marines.<br />
<br />
"Behold!" Jacques declared in communications. "We have taken over one of these Orks' ships! We've go the edge on them!"<br/><br />
Using the Astropath to communicate back, Sebastus responded, "I say, that does sound rather good, but my Escorts are practically half-gone. Unless you can repeat that miracle of combat again, I fail to see the good in that."<br/><br />
"HA! Just watch! And open what you can on the biggest one, I'm probably gonna take that down last!"<br />
<br />
True to his word, Calico Jacques collided the looted craft onto another, boarded it, and repeated the sequence. Meanwhile, his ships, aware of his plan, began throwing their weight into the battle, helping turn the battle against the Orks.<br/><br />
Soon enough, the only ship left was Bluddflagg's Kill-Krooza.<br />
<br />
"Well, boys," Jacques commanded them, "It's just old, big, and ugly left. Let's say we do this? WHO AMONG YE ARE TOUGH ENOUGH VOID REAVERS TO TAKE THAT DAMN ORK DOWN?!"<br/><br />
"AYE!!!!" The crew simultaneously cheered on. They took on the vessel's aresnal, the looted vessels they could use thrown in the way of the gunfire to buy the main vessels enough time to get closer to the hulk. As soon as they began boarding the Ork's flagship, it was only the Astartes Vessels left, the others having either went down with their looted vessels or rejoined their brothers on the main craft.<br />
<br />
Jacques' crew were the first to take on the Nobs on the deck, as they held their shields against the lumbering massive choppas. Corril joined the Captain in that and, with his anchor, took down the leader of these Nobs. Most of the Astartes took to raiding the Krooza, leaving only the crew and a token handful of battle-brothers to keep watch of the ship.<br />
<br />
The boarding Astartes were beset on all sides by the greenskin horde, but that was just what they wanted. In a way, the two forces were equal in that regard, both of them hungering for only battle. Orks of many different sizes surged forth to take on the boarding Space Marines, but the Marines were just as fierce defending themselves and pushed forward to destroy the ship.<br />
<br />
Among this group, Jacques and a small squad broke off from the group in order to find the Kaptin himself. The route he took was infested with more brutal Orks, many of whom were fighting among themselves for whatever reason, but that was enough to grant the crew enough time to destroy the horde uninterrupted. More fortuitous to this was the fact that among these was a rather huge Big Mek by the name of Grozznozzle, whose entire head and spinal column was mechanical. This made removing it from the rest of the Ork much easier, as well as much more satisfying.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, Corril led his gang to the Engine Deck, in order to sabotage the patchwork machinery there. They were beset by Lootaz led by heavily armored Mek by the name of Nailbrain, all armed with any variety of guns firing lasers, bullets, and anything in between. Some were even firing rockets. Though the hail took the lives of half the brothers on this mission, Corril still managed to prevail by lobbing his anchor straight into the Mek. The Ork died upon impact, and his minions began advancing towards the fallen Mek to steal his stuff. Without any opposition, the Sergeant commanded a small group of Marines armed with flamers to incinerate those Orks that had fled while the rest continued the mission, placing Melta charges on the ship's drive and engines.<br />
<br />
"Alright, Cap!" Corril voxed to Jacques. "We got the ship ready to blow up nice and easy-like!"<br/><br />
Calico Jacques and his crew were just about to lead to the command bridge, "Well done, lads! Head back to the ships, I'll be taking a certain Warboss' head!"<br />
<br />
Rather predictably, the moment they opened the gate to the bridge, more Orks came flooding in, all armed with anything they could find, some trying to hack apart the Marines with pieces of the ship itself. However, their hastily-made arms would be their failure, as the trained Astartes were able to tear through them with bolter and chainsword, even stealing the weapons they saw use for among the Orks to use against those that remained.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, Calico Jacques strode forth to stand in front of the Ork Kaptin, whose jaw was as much iron as the rest of his armor and a crudely-built cutlass in his massive fist.<br/><br />
"I say," he opened conversation, "I like your hat."<br/><br />
"YOU WANT DIS HAT?" Bluddflagg spat out, "YOUZE GONNA HAFTA KRUMP ME BEFORE YOUZE CAN TAKE IT!!"<br/><br />
Jacque scoffed, "I was gonna kill you anyways. This way, I'll get a trophy out of the deal as well."<br/><br />
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!" The Ork erupted from his seat and swung the giant sword towards the Captain, who backed off before cutting with his power sword.<br />
"First blood's already mine, greenskin," he bragged. "How much more you think you'll lose before I'm done?"<br/><br />
"I'M GUNNA KILL YOU FOR DAT!!!" The Kaptin sent his other massive fist forwards, connecting with the Captain's chest, sending him flying back. "WHOEVER THE ZOG YE ARE, I'LL BE TAKIN' ALL YER KIT AS WELL AS THAT POSH GITZ!"<br/><br />
The Ork lumbered forward, but the Astartes did not stand to face the charge. Instead, he slid under the Ork. As Bluddflagg began checking his boots to see if he had any Marine stuck on them, Jacques began commenting, "Kaptin Bluddflagg, scourge of Subsector Aurelia. I must say, this sorta prey would definitely be a good trophy for my deck!"<br/><br />
Bluddflagg grinned, "THINK OI'M AN IDJIT, DO YE?" He punched through the deck floor. "THINK I GOT ROKKS FER BRAINZ, EH?" He felt something in the grip of his fingers. "HOEW ABOUT YA TRY DIS ON FER SIZE?!"<br/><br />
The Ork grabbed a huge hammer, bits of metal sticking out.<br/><br />
He swung this massive sledgehammer around with reckless abandon, batting aside Ork crew members with as much frequency as he did Space Marines. One parry led to Calico Jacques' power sword being sent flying from his hands. However, he was able to grab a rokkit hammer from a dead Ork. He turned to the front and found the control deck.<br />
<br />
He had a plan.<br/><br />
Of course, he still had to distract Bluddflagg. That would prove easy, though, as the Ork accidentally embedded his hammer into a wall. Jacques ran towards the controls and shot the pilot with his pistol. He then took one swing.<br />
<br />
KABOOM<br />
<br />
The control deck was in ruins. So was Jacques' hands, once he finally got up.<br/><br />
"WHATCHA GONNA DO WITHOUT YER POSH KIT, EH SPEHSS MUHREEN?!"<br/><br />
Though his hands were broken, Calico Jacques could still fight, as he hefted a shield from one of the dead Astartes, In his other hand, he took a dead Ork's choppa. "Who says I needed that Power Sword to waste you?"<br/><br />
"HEHEHEHEH, I LOIK YOU. GONNA KILL YOU SLOW FER DAT!" He took one more swing overhead. Excellent. Jacques used the shield as a board to slide past the Warboss, who embedded it where the controls were, totaling all control. He heard more explosions from whence he came.<br/><br />
"And with that out of the way," he started jogging, "I feel that an escape would be the best to my interests!"<br/><br />
"YOUZE THINK YOU'LL BE GETTIN' AWAY DAT EAZY?!" Bluddflagg abandoned the hammer to find his cutlass again. ""FINK AGAIN!!!" He swung the Cutlass at the Space Marine, but his shield stopped it.<br/><br />
"BOSS!!" On of the surviving Orks shouted, "DA ENJINZ, DEYZ NOT WORKIN'?"<br/><br />
"WOT?" He growled. His distraction was enough for the Captain to try another attack with the choppa, but the Captain swatted him aside. "YOU SNEEKY SON OF A GROT...!"<br/><br />
Jacques got up, "Well, this bastard son got you beat, so I can't be all that bad, eh?"<br/><br />
"I'M GUNNA KILL YOU FER DAT!"<br/><br />
"Right now, not so sure," he finally left the door, "But later? Well..."<br />
<br />
Calico Jacques went to the the entry point he took, but found nothing.<br/><br />
"Damn idiots," he grumbled, "Try to mutiny and kick ME off, will they? I don't think so!" He took a leap into the great expanse...<br />
<br />
And he floated. He had kept track and found that it was only 6 minutes and 41 seconds before he could find a ship to pick him up, and it was one of the surviving escorts.<br />
He jumped in and found it to be piloted by Sergeant Corril. "The hell was that for?"<br/><br />
"Wasn't me, Cap," he commented as he steered around. "We couldn't keep the place Ork-free so we had to back off after placing the explosives." They started on their way back. "He, where's-"<br/><br />
"Look at my hands, sergeant. Can't grab crap right now, much less an Ork's head." He collapsed on the side of the wall. "But he's not going to be troubling anyone anytime soon."<br/><br />
Corril asked, "Shall I turn this ship around to the Grand Voyager?"<br/><br />
Jacques cracked a smile. "Get me to the nearest Apothecary. Gonna need to see if I'll be needing new hands."<br/><br />
"And that Trader?"<br/><br />
"Ahh, one thing at a time. He'll be fine. He'll be needing new ships, though."<br />
<br />
===Bloody-Handed===<br />
With a clunk, the adamantium door slid back into its recess, and the Space Marine entered. Behind him came a Primarch, ducking under the doorframe, a gesture that he was rapidly becoming used to performing. <br />
"Welcome to my home." said Shrike, making a wide, sweeping gesture that was thrown off by the glossy half-cape draped over one shoulder. He tugged it off with a snort of annoyance and flung it into the depths of the darkened room. He flicked his wrist and the lights came on, making them both cringe with pain. The room was significantly larger than Corax had expected, close to the size of the Ravenspire's armour bay. He looked about: there was a small bed in one corner, a narrow table, a small bookcase stuffed with data-slates, what looked like a drawing-board, and several strange machines sitting in the far side of the room. Shrike walked towards one of them, a strange device which hung from the ceiling like a giant chevroned spider. It lit up and chattered to life as Shrike approached. He reached out his armour-clad arms to it, and the machine extended dozens of its own limbs, clamping onto Shrike's armour and stripping it off him.<br/><br />
"Easier than waking all the serfs up." Shrike explained, over the clatter and whine of the armature's limbs. When the machine had finished its work, he stepped forwards, stretching.<br/><br />
"I have to say, I thought I was going to fall asleep at one point back there." Corax nodded sympathetically:<br/><br />
"Yes, that has to be one of the longest speeches I've ever heard."<br/><br />
"Still," said Shrike, yawning, "1st Captain doesn't sound too hard. I feel like I've been commanding the entire chapter for a while now." He shook himself:<br/><br />
"So, what was it you wanted to see first?"<br/><br />
Corax glanced at the strange machines squatting in the shadows. He pointed at a large, rectangular device with a prominent keypad facing outwards.<br/> <br />
"What's that do?"<br/><br />
"Ah," said Shrike, walking over to the machine and slapping it affectionately,<br/><br />
<br />
"This is Aetna. We found it on a derelict at the edge of the ghoul stars. At first we thought it was a template constructor, and that, y'know, we were going to be given sectors as retirement homes or something. Turns out it's not, obviously, its just an ancient fabricator. At first we thought it was broken, because we couldn't get it to make anything, despite it being in perfectly good condition."<br/><br />
He gestured to the keypad:<br/> <br />
"What it produces is linked to the keypad, only problem is, tech-marines reckon there must be at least hundreds of thousands of combinations possible on that keypad."<br />
"And there's no way of knowing which combinations work." said Corax, nodding.<br/><br />
"Exactly. So far, I've been able to discover fifty combinations, mostly by sitting here and punching in random combinations. Most of them don't make anything particularly useful to me, but one of them makes it so that you can put something in, say a bolt casing, and it will produce x amount of that, with whatever material you put in."<br/> <br />
He looked at Corax expectantly.<br/> <br />
"So... this is not being used in public, why?"<br/><br />
Shrike's face fell.<br/><br />
"Because of what happened to Panacea."<br/><br />
At Corax' questioning look, he elaborated:<br/><br />
"Archeotech device that makes medical cures. Cures to everything. That's not hyperbole, I mean stuff humans haven't had for thousands of years."<br/><br />
Corax spoke softly:<br/><br />
"What happened to it?"<br/><br />
"Orks attacked the forge world. An entire Waaagh, all on one planet. When the defenders were fighting tooth-and-nail to hold them back, the ones who had drawn the Orks there in the first place turned up. Dark Eldar. They walked in, took Panacea, and that was the end of it."<br/><br />
He gestured to Aetna.<br/><br />
"That's why. We hardly know how to use this thing, and we can't risk anyone finding out about it."<br/><br />
<br />
Shrike sat down heavily at the table, and Corax followed, easing himself into the reinforced chair. Shrike stared into the middle distance as Corax searched for something to say. He noticed something strapped to Shrike's chest, what looked like the sheath for a massive knife, easily the length of the space marine's forearm. He pointed:<br/><br />
"What's that?"<br/><br />
Shrike looked around blearily,<br/><br />
"Hmm?"<br/><br />
"Your knife. Doesn't look like standard issue to me."<br/> <br />
Shrike pressed a hand to the sheath and smiled.<br/><br />
"Ah, there's quite a story behind this one, If you're ready to listen?"<br/><br />
Corax nodded:<br/><br />
"Of course."<br/><br />
Shrike sat back and exhaled slowly:<br/><br />
"Okay, okay, where to begin..."<br/><br />
"At the beginning?"<br/><br />
"Very funny. Alright..."<br/><br />
<br />
SIGMA OCTANUS IV: M41:965<br/><br />
Shrike peered over the crest of the ridge, cranking the magnification of his helmet up. He triggered his comm:<br/><br />
"Contact with artifact, it's a webway gate. Seems to be active."<br/><br />
The voice of his second crackled back:<br/><br />
"Support needed?"<br/><br />
"Negative. Doesn't seem to be any-shit"<br/><br />
Several lithe figures in bright, sparkling costumes stepped out of the crackling nimbus of the webway.<br/> <br />
"Harlequins. Two, four, six, eight..."<br/><br />
Shrike trailed off as more and more figures stepped through. At last the flow stopped, and Shrike did a quick head-count,<br/><br />
"I count twenty-six eldar. Wait-"<br/><br />
Another figure emerged, and walked a short distance away from the others. Then it turned and looked straight at Shrike. He shuddered, a chill racing up his spine that had nothing to do with the drizzle pattering off his helmet.<br/><br />
"Twenty-seven, I repeat, twenty-seven Eldar have come through the gate and appear to be making camp."<br/><br />
"Do we engage?"<br/><br />
Shrike thought. The Eldar were outnumbered by his men by a significant margin, but he had heard horror stories about the Harlequins in battle, and didn't want a fight that he could avoid.<br/><br />
"Negative. Move to my position, I'm going to try diplomacy." He killed his vox before his second could respond, and stood up. With a flex of his legs, he lept over the edge of the ridge, and plummeted straight down. At the last second, he flared the wings of his flight pack, and landed with a thump. The eldar all around him started, and hands went to weapons. Shrike fought the urge to go for his bolt pistol, and instead raised his hands.<br/><br />
"Hold, Eldar! I mean no harm." He looked around at the tense Eldar,<br/><br />
"Who is in charge here?"<br/><br />
An Eldar, tall even for his kind, stepped forwards, his helmet bearing a bright red plume, and his coat shimmering with mesmerizing colours. As Shrike looked at the Harlequins featureless mask, features slowly began to appear on it. Shrike watched, bemused, as a perfect representation of his helmet appeared.<br/><br />
<br />
Resisting the urge to feel the beak of his helmet (in order to see if it was really that big), Shrike spoke:<br/><br />
"What are you and your troupe doing here?"<br/><br />
The Harlequin's voice was fluted and distorted to such an extent that Shrike could barely make out his answer.<br/><br />
"I could ask you the same, Space Marine."<br/><br />
"We are scouting this planet out for any signs of an Ork vanguard. So far we have found none."<br/><br />
Seemingly impressed with the Space Marine's honesty, the harlequin answered:<br/><br />
"We are merely passing through. We wish to perform for a craftworld near to here. We have left the webway to rest and take our bearings. We will be gone by the end of the week."<br />
"Perfect." For a moment, there was silence as Shrike tried to think of what to say next. An impulse seized him, and he spoke quickly:<br/><br />
"Perhaps you could put on a show for us tonight? I have heard much of the performances of the Harlequins, but I have never seen one myself."<br/><br />
The Eldar turned to his troupe, cocking his head to the side. Shrike was certain that they were communicating in some way, but before he could do something about it, the troupe leader turned back to him.<br/><br />
"We agree. On one condition..."<br/><br />
Oh dear, thought Shrike, his head filling with horrible thoughts of what it could be.<br />
"You must play one of the characters. We will provide the costume, and tell you the story, but you must provide the skill."<br/> <br />
Shrike realised he was in a corner now. If he refused, the Eldar would not perform and would most likely take their frustration out on him. His only option was to call the Harlequin's bluff. He nodded and clasped the Eldar's hand:<br/><br />
"I accept. When do we begin?"<br/><br />
<br />
SOME TIME LATER<br/><br />
<br />
Shrike's skin tingled as a pair of Harlequins applied the red paint that was part of his costume. He was standing naked in the middle of one of their tents, and was desperately crunching differential equations in his head to stave off an erection. The two Harlequins had already changed into their costumes, at least Shrike thought they had.<br/><br />
"So... I'm this Khaine creature, right?"<br/><br />
"Yes."<br/><br />
"You still haven't told me what the rest of the performance is about."<br/><br />
"It is one of the greatest tales of the Eldar race, one that the Harlequins seldom perform. The tale of the Fall of the Eldar."<br/><br />
This rung a bell in Shrike's mind, but he could not place where he had heard it before. As the Harlequins continued spreading the greasy red paint across his alabaster skin, they spoke in quiet voices of the Fall of the Eldar, and what his role would entail. By the time they were finished, Shrike was covered almost entirely in flowing red symbols and glyphs that criss-crossed and overlapped each other. One of the Harlequins began buckling several pieces of elaborate wraithbone armour onto him.<br/><br />
"So..." Shrike struggled to find words, a dull pulsing was beginning behind his eyes, and every so often, he could've sworn he heard chanting.<br/><br />
"How will I be shattered into pieces? You're not going to actually-"<br/><br />
"No. This-" the harlequin speaking clamped something to Shrike's bicep,<br/><br />
"Is a holofield. It will trigger automatically when it is needed."<br/><br />
"And until then?"<br/><br />
"Against the Solitaire? Just try and survive."<br/> <br />
The other Harlequin stepped from behind Shrike, holding a cloth-wrapped bundle in her arms. The other reached forwards and pulled the top off the bundle. The Eldar was holding a sword. A heat-haze rose up from it, and strange runes swam and pulsed on the surface.<br/> <br />
"The Wailing Doom"<br/><br />
Shrike looked around for the source of the voice, before he realised it was his.<br/><br />
The Harlequins nodded to each other.<br/><br />
"He is ready."<br/><br />
Shrike reached and took the sword. It shivered, and the bones in his hands were cast into sharp relief by the light shining through his hand. Something hit the ground with a splat. Another blob of thick, crimson gore dripped from Shrike's hand. He curled his free hand into a fist, and watched the blood ooze from between his fingers. He smiled.<br/><br />
<br />
Outside the tent, the members of Shrike's Wing, sat in a rough semicircle, watching the performance. It had, indeed, been like nothing any of them had ever seen and many of them were struggling to process what they had seen. They had seen the members of the Eldar panteon fall to the silent Harlequin, one after the other. A tear-stained woman had been snatched away from the Solitaire's claws at the last moment by a shambling tower of putrescence and filth which had made several of the marines gag. None of them had seen the Captain yet, but their attention was fixed on the cowering figure before the Solitaire. The cowering Harlequin's mask was stretched into a terrified smile, or maybe a grimace. The Solitaire drew back a taloned hand, and the Marines braced themselves for another God's devourment.<br/> <br />
<br />
BOOM<br/><br />
<br />
BOOM<br/><br />
<br />
The Solitaire lowered its arm, and turned to look at the source of the noise. So did the marines.<br/><br />
<br />
Kayvaan Shrike strode into the circle. <br />
Except, the Captain many of the marines had known for hundreds of years had changed. The veins beneath his skin glowed, as though his blood had turned to plasma. Thick gore dripped from his hands, staining the dirt crimson. The air around the sword clenched in one hand rippled, as though it were white-hot. His eyes were the worst part. They were like stars set into his face, points of light so bright and so strong it hurt the marines to look at them.<br />
He swung the sword into a guard position, and glowered at the Solitaire with such fury the Marines cringed. It snarled, the first sound any of them had heard it make, and flung itself at him.<br/><br />
<br />
<br />
The marines watched, enraptured, as the two fought. At first, the Solitaire had Shrike on the back foot, driving him around the circle with vicious flurries of slashes and stabs. However, Shrike had seemingly rallied, and was now holding his ground, deflecting and parrying every slash and stab with nary a movement of his feet. The Cowering Harlequin had recovered, and now stood behind Shrike, laughing and shouting encouragement. The Solitaire stabbed at Shrike's shoulder, he leaned to the side and smashed the hilt of his sword into the Solitaire's face. It reeled backwards, spitting blood, whilst the marines cheered. Shrike lunged forwards, the tip of his sword scratching open the front of the Solitaire's armour. The blade screamed as it touched flesh, and the Solitaire hurled itself backwards, away from Shrike. He pressed the attack, raining blows on the creature's guard, each seeming to strike with the force of a mountain dropped from the edge of space. The Solitaire fell to its knees, seemingly exhausted, and Shrike let loose a final blow which smote the claws from one its hands. He stopped, breathing heavily, then stabbed the sword forwards. <br />
<br />
The Solitaire caught the blade between its palms, holding the blade steady, no matter how hard Shrike pushed against it. The marines and Shrike alike saw the Solitaire's mask distort into a spine chilling leer. It twisted its hands, and the sword burst into pieces. Shrike staggered back, hands sliced to ribbons as the Solitaire surged to its feet, not really tired at all. It slashed at Shrike repeatedly, each swing sending ribbons of glowing blood flying. Shrike fell to one knee, already exhausted by the earlier struggle. The Solitaire stabbed at his heart, and Shrike caught its hand at the last moment, the tip of the claw an inch away from his heaving chest. The Solitaire's free hand reached round and caressed his cheek as his hands began to tremble with the effort of holding it back.<br />
The tip of the claw pressed into Shrike's chest. Glowing blood began to ooze from around it, leaving a shining trail down his chest. He looked into the Solitaire's face as it pushed harder. It looked back. Shrike opened his mouth and let loose a deafening roar as his glowing veins and eyes brightened, till the light blotted him out completely. <br />
Then he exploded. Fragment of glowing light and wraithbone armour flew in all directions, the sound mingling with the Laughing god screaming in horror. The Solitaire turned to him, flicking glowing blood from the tips of its claw. The Harlequin took one look at the Solitaire and ran from the circle, leaping over the marines, and vanishing into the shadows. The lights around the circle faded, and the marines were left in darkness, wondering if what they had just seen was real.<br/><br />
<br />
"So what happened then?" said Corax.<br/><br />
"Well, I come round a few hours later, with no idea what happened, surrounded by my men, who all look like they've shat themselves. I shoo them away, and the Eldar come in and say that they enjoyed my performance so much, they want to give me two gifts. The first was the holofield they gave me, I use that when I'm sneaking around.<br/><br />
The second-" He drew the massive Bowie Knife out of its sheath-<br/><br />
"Was this. A fragment of the Wailing Doom. It wasn't big enough to make a sword out of, so I had the techmarines make it into a knife. Apparently, its made of some isotope of Iron that the techmarines have never seen before."<br/><br />
"How do you know that it still works?"<br/><br />
"It feels hot. And it goes 'EEEEEEE' when I stab someone with it."<br/> <br />
He held the knife out in front of him, and turned it over, letting Corax see the runes pulsing and swimming across its surface.<br/><br />
<br />
The two talked long into the night, discussing everything: Shrike's childhood, growing up as a runner in the very depths of a Hive city, his joining the space marines, his ongoing romance with one of the ravenspire's serfs, it seemed the universe would end before the two stopped. In the end, though, both men were so hoarse they could barely speak, and Corax was desperate for the toilet. As Shrike bid his Primarch a good night, and watched him leave the room, he became aware of a faint splat sound. He sat up in his chair, and looked at the floor. There was a crimson stain on the tiles, directly below where one of Shrike's hands had been resting on the arm of his chair. As he watched, another crimson blob dripped from the end of his index finger, splatting onto the floor softly. He looked at his blood-smeared hands with eyes that glowed like searchlights. He smiled.<br />
<br />
===Reclaimers===<br />
<br />
LUNAPHAGE SYSTEM<br />
<br />
The cruiser tore into realspace with a swirl of unearthly colours and blazing retros. It decelerated to a mere third of the speed of light, and slotted in a orbit that would take it close to the large, tan coloured gas giant that orbited the lonely star.<br> <br />
On the bridge, Kayvaan Shrike studied the displays with tired eyes. He glanced up to the transparent bulkhead that served as a window, the weak light of the star illuminating the distant gas giant. His eyes flicked to the crewman at the sensor console.<br><br />
"Thrill me."<br><br />
The man shook his head, eyes glazed over as he observed the data feed being projected onto his retinas.<br><br />
"No signs of the Hive Fleet, sir. Although, I am picking up a small moon around the gas giant over yonder."<br><br />
Shrike eased himself out of his command chair, vertebrae in his back clunking together as he rose.<br><br />
"Mhm, better than nothing. Set a course."<br><br />
"Aye, aye."<br><br />
Shrike heard the helmsman's reply as he walked out of the bridge and down the narrow corridor to his quarters. As the door sealed behind him, he lay down heavily on his narrow bed and closed his eyes.<br> <br />
Three weeks of non-stop searching for a horde of phantom bugs. He giggled weakly, rubbing at his burning eyes with the heel of his hand. The door hummed open and Shrike groaned as he recognised the distinctive odor of machine oil and incense.<br> <br />
"If you're here to gloat, don't bother."<br><br />
The end of his bed creaked as a space marine sat down on it. Shrike placed a booted foot against the figure's midriff and gave it a weak shove.<br> <br />
"There's a chair over there, don't get gunk on my bed."<br><br />
There was a snort and the pressure on the bed eased. Shrike jammed his head under the thin pillow as booted feet thumped on the floor. There was a pause and the sound of the footlocker at the end of the bed being opened. Shrike cringed as he heard the sound of rustling pages.<br><br />
"Aww. That is just adorable, it really is."<br><br />
<br />
Opening his eyes, Shrike sat up and threw his pillow at the black-armoured figure. It bounced off the crimson pauldron and was caught by a servo-arm that hung over the figure's head. Cheeks burning, Shrike snatched the thick book from the figure's hands and closed it with a snap.<br><br />
"I knew you were sentimental, but that's just ridiculous."<br><br />
Shrike returned the book to the footlocker, glaring at the techmarine as he stood up.<br> <br />
"What did you think I did before I joined the Guard?"<br><br />
The techmarine leaned against the wall, smirking.<br><br />
"I knew about the redhead, we all did, but I didn't think there was anyone before that."<br><br />
Shrike folded his arms,<br><br />
"It wasn't the same with her. We were more like brother and sister, than...-"<br><br />
"Rabbits."<br><br />
"Fuck you. You'd've done the same."<br><br />
"If she hadn't been nearly twenty years older than me, yeah. I still don't see what she saw in you."<br><br />
"I always thought she got turned on by all the surgery she was doing to us."<br><br />
"I'm not sure that's how women work Shrike-"<br><br />
"You're one to talk. Besides, I much prefer the thought that she just liked banging a sixteen-year old, than the alternative."<br><br />
A faint look of concern traveled across the techmarine's face.<br><br />
"Which was?"<br><br />
"That she really did love me. And that I never told her I did."<br><br />
There was a pause.<br><br />
"Well... that would explain the sketches, if nothing else. Did you do them?"<br><br />
Shrike reached back into the footlocker and flipped through the worn pages of the diary.<br><br />
"Nah, one of the orderlies did it. Cost me week's scrounging, but it was worth it."<br><br />
The book fell open to a page where a small pict had been pasted in. The techmarine leaned in:<br><br />
"Oh wow. You kept that!?"<br><br />
"Yeah. All fifty of us. This was what gave me the idea to start keeping a diary. I didn't want to forget."<br><br />
The techmarine returned to his previous posture.<br><br />
"One of these days, your sentimentality is going to be the death of us, you know that, right?"<br> <br />
Shrike was still lost in memory:<br><br />
"How many of us are left out of there?"<br><br />
"Twelve."<br><br />
"Not bad for nearly 700 years?"<br><br />
Shrike didn't respond. The servo-arm jabbed him in the ribs.<br><br />
"Wuh?"<br><br />
"I didn't come here to discuss your sexual deviances. That comes later. No, I wanted to talk about our assignment."<br><br />
Shrike groaned inwardly, but said nothing.<br><br />
"I think this might be a dummy assignment."<br><br />
This was new.<br><br />
"Eh?"<br><br />
"I'm thinking, 'maybe there aren't any tyranids out here, maybe the primarch's just given his favourite a dressed-up holiday'."<br><br />
"I... I'm not his favourite-"<br><br />
"Oh, come on, everyone can see it."<br><br />
"But still, 'Nids aren't something you do that with, it's too risky. Besides, I doubt he's even seen a Tyranid yet."<br><br />
The techmarine opened his mouth to speak when the room's intercom crackled.<br><br />
"Sir? We've found something."<br><br />
<br />
The cruiser sat in the shadow of the titanic ship, velocity matched with it perfectly. Invisible beams from the cruiser's sensors played across the hull of the ship. Within the bridge, Shrike stood in full armour, watching the sensor feeds.<br><br />
The officer shook his head:<br><br />
"I'm sorry sir, whatever alloy that thing's hull is made of can't be penetrated by the auspex array."<br><br />
Shrike put on his helmet.<br><br />
"Good. It's been too long since I had a good excuse for a spacewalk."<br><br />
He strode out of the bridge, members of his Wing emerging from the shadows and falling into step with him. Anyone observant enough would've realised that the marines were all wearing the same mark of armour, with no rank insignia, and the same paint scheme. Functionally, It was impossible to tell them apart. Or even tell which had been Shrike in the first place.<br />
<br />
The marines stood, magnetised to the deck by their boots, watching as the massive hangar door opened before them. Air rushed out, the gale not even jostling the stoic marines. The surface of the massive ship was before them, slowly rotating as they watched. Shrike sent a pulse through his black carapace and the thrusters of his flight pack flared, running off an internal supply of oxidiser. Status lights flickered green on the inside of his HUD, and Shrike took a step forwards, standing on the very edge of the threshold.<br />
"PREPARE TO BOARD!"<br><br />
The marines at his back answered:<br><br />
"HOOAH!"<br><br />
As one, they lept into the abyss.<br><br />
<br />
Shrike's boots met the surface of the hull with a thump that was muffled by the thick layer of something that resembled ice, which was caked onto the hull of the ship. He reached down and scraped some off with a finger.<br><br />
"What is this stuff?"<br><br />
Aloni, the techmarine, spoke in his ear:<br><br />
"Ammonia, I think. Stuff is getting fired into space by cryovolcanoes on the moon. Judging by the thickness of the layer, this ship has been here a long time."<br><br />
Shrike stood up, flicking the muck off his finger, sending the crystals glittering into the void.<br><br />
"Spread out. Search for apertures, airlocks, hangar bays, hull breaches, anything."<br><br />
The marines began to disseminate across the hull, walking with a slow, stomping, gait that made sure one of their magnetic boots was in contact with the hull at all times. Just as Shrike was about to suggest disengaging from the hull and using thruster packs to survey the hull at a faster rate, a voice crackled over the vox.<br><br />
"Found an airlock. It's shut, but I've got cutting gear. Uploading waypoint."<br><br />
The glowing rune popped up on Shrike's HUD, and he and the rest of the marines began to trudge towards it.<br><br />
By the time he and the rest of the marines reached the airlock, the marines who found it had managed it get it open. One of them spoke aloud:<br><br />
"Atmosphere pressure on the inside is nil. Must've leaked out ages ago."<br><br />
Carefully, they stepped into the dark interior. With a thought, Shrike activated the night vision mode of his helmet, piercing the dark easily. The corridor stretched on in front and behind the marines, with other corridors branching off from them.<br> <br />
"You know the drill, squads of five, slow movement, radio check every five minutes. We're looking for the bridge, reactor room, or communications array."<br> <br />
Wordlessly, the twenty marines split into squads of five, arranged like on the face of a die, four at the edges, to watch the front and back, and one in the middle to watch the sides and ceiling. Shrike's squad moved off up the corridor, senses alert for the slightest danger. In fact, Shrike was so busy listening for the sounds of claws in a vent vibrating into his armour, he didn't notice the floating corpse until the bloodshot, leering face bounced off his helmet.<br><br />
"YARGH"<br><br />
Shrike leapt backwards with fright, crashing into the marines standing behind him. Yells and shouts filled the vox as the squad unloaded their bolters into the floating corpse. Shrike recovered his footing, and aimed several sharp slaps at the marine's helmets.<br><br />
"CEASE FIRE! CEASE FIRE!"<br><br />
The marines immediately stopped, but the corpse was little more than floating shreds. Hearts thumping, Shrike sucked in a deep breath from his respirator, and switched on his helmet lights. The beams illuminated more floating corpses, floating silently. Hesitantly, Shrike reached forwards and poked one with his finger. It rotated slowly, until it was facing him. The corpse's face was puffy and pale. Shrike grimaced as he saw the dried blood around the mouth.<br><br />
"Lungs burst from the pressure change."<br><br />
He nudged it again, rotating it away, so they didn't have to look at the agony-twisted face.<br><br />
Shrike keyed his vox:<br><br />
"We've encountered some bodies. No signs of xenos injuries, they've been here a long time."<br><br />
The marines moved on, through the floating bodies that started to appear more and more as they moved down the corridor.<br> <br />
<br />
T+35 HOURS SINCE ENTRY<br><br />
<br />
"Vox check: where is everyone?"<br><br />
"Verano: Cutting into cargo bay"<br><br />
The bright glare from the plasma torch threw the space marines into stark relief. Tiny gobbets of molten alloy drifted through the space around them, slowly radiating their heat away.<br><br />
"Aloni: Engine room, still looking over the reactor."<br><br />
Armoured fingers tapped the glowing screen gently, reaching past the mechadendrites plugged into the side of the console.<br><br />
"Branne: I think these are maintenance tunnels."<br><br />
The space marine drifted down the long tunnel, helmet lights illuminating the path ahead, whilst tiny jets of coldgas occasionally flared from his powerpack, keeping him steady.<br />
Satisfied that his marines were all still together, Shrike returned his attention to the dizzying array of devices that he was facing.<br />
As he glanced around the wide room Shrike had found himself in, he keyed his vox again.<br><br />
"Aloni, have you managed to get this thing's computer system working yet?"<br><br />
The response crackled back:<br><br />
"Not exactly, I've managed to get this one terminal working by hooking it up to my power pack. I can only access what was already stored on it.<br><br />
"Which is?"<br><br />
"More archeotech data that has been found since the Great Crusade.<br> <br />
The techmarine's voice trembled with excitement. Shrike stood up sharply, nearly hitting his head on the ceiling.<br><br />
"You're joking."<br><br />
"Nope. There's everything in here, STC printouts, schematics, formulae, you name it."<br><br />
Shrike leant heavily against the console in front of him, legs feeling like they were turning to cloth.<br><br />
"They're not just going to give us planets for this, are they?"<br> <br />
"Shrike, if we can bring a ''tenth'' of this stuff back to Mars, they'll probably let us retire."<br><br />
Shrike giggled at the thought, before another abruptly barged into his mind.<br><br />
"Are you backing it up?"<br><br />
"Of course. Tertiary iteration is underway at this very moment." Shrike could hear the smile in his friend's voice.<br><br />
"Groovy. These things always seem to end up going horribly wrong at some point or another. " He reached back down to the console he had been studying.<br><br />
"How's the reactor coming along?"<br><br />
The techmarine sighed, sending a small crackle of static through his microphone.<br><br />
"Well, it all seems to be in working order, but it needs a massive electric charge to jump-start the reaction and get it working."<br><br />
"How massive?"<br><br />
"A little bit more than the total output of all our power-packs combined."<br><br />
"Bugger. What about the capacitors? Is there any residual charge left in them?"<br><br />
The techmarine glanced about the massive reactor room.<br><br />
"I'll have a look, but this place has been cold for a very long time."<br><br />
<br />
Deep in the bowels of the gigantic ship, Verano's plasma cutter finally finished its work, and two of the marines wedged their arms into the gap and slowly forced the bulkhead open. The lights from their helmets illuminated the inside of the massive room. As they stepped through the door, they became aware of rank upon rank of smooth grey obelisks before them. Verano walked close to one, and had to look closely before he realised what they really were.<br><br />
<br />
Shrike was attempting to pry open a hydraulics panel with his multi-tool when Verano spoke in his ear.<br><br />
"This isn't a battleship, Shrike. Cargo bay is full of cryo-pods. We estimate about 500 000."<br><br />
Shrike swallowed:<br><br />
"Any survio-"<br><br />
"No" Verano looked into the pod nearest to him. The inside was covered in silvery scratch marks, some of which were smeared with dried blood.<br><br />
"I don't think it was quick, either."<br><br />
Shrike was silent for a moment. Then the ship seemed to lurch around him, throwing him backwards and forwards on his magnetised boots. As it stopped he reached for his vox:<br><br />
"What was that!?"<br><br />
Aloni:<br><br />
"Not me."<br><br />
Verano:<br><br />
"What was what?"<br><br />
Branne:<br><br />
"That was close, nearly lost my grip."<br><br />
Shrike activated the vox channel to the cruiser, still waiting patiently in the colony ship's shadow.<br />
"What was that?"<br><br />
Shrike distinctly heard the sound of alarms in the background as the officer replied:<br><br />
"Massive gravitational shift from the star. Matches anomalies that have prece-"<br><br />
"-ed Tyranid Hive Fleets, yeah, I know. Can you get a message off?"<br><br />
"No sir. Astropath is trying his best, but he can't push a message through the shadow on his own."<br><br />
Shrike inhaled, thinking hard.<br><br />
"Alright, here's what you do: make for the edge of the system, as soon as you are out of the heliosphere, warp jump to the nearest star fort. They should have a choir you can use to alert the sector fleet with."<br><br />
"Are you and your men staying, sir?"<br><br />
"Aye. This ship is too valuable a find to leave to the 'nids, and if we can restore power, we may be able to leave the system on our own."<br><br />
The officer's voice was hesitant, but firm.<br><br />
"Aye aye, sir. Good Luck."<br><br />
"Likewise." said Shrike, closing the channel, and opening another:<br><br />
"Aloni, we need that reactor now."<br><br />
The techmarine had heard the entirety of Shrike's conversation, and was frantically plugging cables and mechadendrites into the reactor.<br><br />
After a moment, he paused in front of the control console:<br><br />
"Initiate Jump-Start."<br><br />
"Here goes nothing", he murmured, and pressed the key.<br><br />
<br />
At once, Aloni felt the floor vibrate, and the screen his finger rested on flickered.<br><br />
Then a blinding pillar of light exploded in the center of the reactor, sending the photosensitive Raven Guard reeling. <br />
The ship vibrated as ancient systems started spinning up, sending the marines clinging to whatever was nearest to them. Lights burst back into life, dazzling them. Gravity abruptly made itself known, sending corpses and loose objects plummeting to the deckplates. Shrike found himself clinging to a doorframe, realising that the reason he could not understand any of the deck signs was because he had been standing on the 'ceiling', rather than the deckplates. Oxygen flooded the ship, returning sound and pressure.<br />
Shrike awkwardly lowered himself to the floor, wobbling slightly as all his blood started seeping back into the right places.<br><br />
"Nice job Aloni. See if you can find the-"<br><br />
A strange golden light spilled out of the room before Shrike, distracting him. Message unfinished, the space marine carefully walked inside.<br><br />
<br />
Inside the room, a figure was being constructed out of golden light. Shrike stood, mesmerized, as the shape rendered into a humanoid figure, and then a faceless man made from golden light was standing before him.<br> <br />
"I'm sorry, how long have I been out?"<br><br />
"Wha... What are-"<br><br />
"Hmm, internal sensors seem to be offline, I cannot read your bio-signs."<br><br />
The figure paused.<br><br />
"Or anyone's bio-signs, come to think of it. How badly was I damaged?"<br><br />
"Y-you were damaged?"<br><br />
"Well, I assume so, many of my ancillary systems are only just starting to come back online."<br><br />
Shrike stared at the figure, completely lost for words.<br><br />
"What are you?"<br><br />
The figure cocked its head in a puzzled manner.<br><br />
"I am a Gold-Man class AI, serial number 2001DA42, currently serving aboard the Ark Ship Bellerophon."<br><br />
Shrike swallowed: This was bad.<br><br />
"And, ah, what year is it?"<br><br />
There was a definite note of confusion in the AI's voice now, along with the faintest trace of worry:<br><br />
"24589. Why?"<br><br />
For a moment, Shrike was silent, working out the strange date in his head. Then he realised, and his empathy rose to the surface, unbidden.<br><br />
"I'm sorry. But you've been asleep for a very long time."<br><br />
<br />
====Might Of the Ancients====<br />
Before the figure could speak again, Aloni spoke urgently on the vox:<br><br />
“Shrike, the sensors are picking up bio-ships approaching the gas giant, I think they know we are here!”<br><br />
The Gold Man looked around in confusion:<br><br />
“Bio-shi-? What is going on!?”<br><br />
Shrike raised his hands in a placatory gesture:<br><br />
“Look, I know this is hard for you, but there are a hundred million monsters bearing down on us at half the space of light, we need this ship at battle stations as quickly as possible. Can you do that?”<br><br />
The AI’s featureless face turned to Shrike for a long moment, and then nodded.<br><br />
“Aye aye.”<br><br />
Across the ship, alarms blared into empty rooms, warning long-dead passengers to secure their belongings. Aloni was alarmed to see the reactor’s power output exceeding that of an Emperor-class battleship, and keep rising. Ancient weapon systems began to warm upon the side of the ship. Thuster banks lit up on the side of the ship, blasting clouds of frozen ammonia into space. Beyond the mighty ship, stars flickered as Hive Fleet Chimera passed in front of them.<br><br />
A large holographic projection leapt into the space in front of Shrike, startling him with its clarity and focus. The bioships were highlighted in red, with projections of where they would move in front of them. The Gold Man spoke:<br><br />
“These things don't match anything in my database; do you have any information on them?”<br><br />
Shrike triggered his vox:<br><br />
“Aloni, upload the Tyrannic War database to this thing’s computer system.”<br><br />
“Why? Also, how are you getting this thing movi-“<br><br />
“Later, DO IT.”<br><br />
There was silence, and then a chime came from the AI, its head twitched:<br><br />
“Download complete, database assimilated. My my, this is fascinating...”<br><br />
The projection seemed to stutter, and then names of the various classes appeared over the bioships. Shrike also noticed the bioships now had fields of fire mapped out from them. He turned to the Gold Man:<br><br />
“When are we in range?”<br><br />
“About... now.”<br><br />
The Ship lit up.<br> <br />
A massive beam lanced from the prow, smashing into one of the larger bioships. The chitious giant burst from within, its internal fluids boiling. <br />
Several hundred shapes rocketed forth from the flanks of the Bellerophon, accelerating to hundreds of kilometres a second. As they closed with the lead bioships, they spat glowing projectiles which crashed into the Tyranids, heedless of the clouds of corrosive spores billowing from them. Great gouts of boiled flesh and freezing fluid jetted forth from the wounds, sending the weakened bioships off course. The drones turned, cancelling out their velocity at a rate that would turn any living pilot into a smear, then smashed into the bioships closest to them in massive explosions that were gone in a second, smothered by the vacuum. The Tyranids started to break formation, drifting in all directions to try and escape the second wave of drones bearing down on them.<br />
Shrike looked at the projection; the bioships were not even halfway in range. Despite this, he saw one of the dying hive ships convulse, then spit a pair of kilometre long spines at the Bellerophon, ripping itself to pieces with the effort. Shrike clenched his teeth as the two flashing glyphs sped towards the ships at fantastic speeds. At the last moment, the ship rolled, the first spike speeding over the bow. The second hit the shields at five-hundred kilometres a second and snapped in two, the remains bouncing free. <br />
A thruster bank at the ship’s rear flared, turning the nose, still turned 90 degrees on its axis, to point at another of the giant hive ships. The spinal lance fired again, the searing beam slicing open the foul creature’s flank, sending a small ocean’s worth of corrosive ichor spraying onto its escorts, dissolving away chitious armour and soft flesh.<br />
A quarter of the Hive fleet was gone, and the Bellerophon had not even begun to fight, yet. <br />
There was a chime, and Shrike looked up at the Gold Man:<br><br />
“One of the bio-ships is accelerating. Re-tasking drones.”<br><br />
The third wave of jet-black shapes sped towards the hive ship, which was speeding forth on a plume of frozen gas, outstripping its flagging escorts. <br />
The drones spat torpedoes at the bio-ship, pulverizing its pyro-acid batteries and bio-plasma tubes. The drones had come too close to the hive ship’s protective spore clouds, however, and were corroded beyond use before they could make a second pass. <br />
Snorting out a plume of gas from its prow, the heavily injured ship rolled, presenting its flank to the Bellerophon. Before Shrike could work out what it was doing, the hologram registered thousands of small contacts breaking from the hive-ship’s side. The Space Marine snarled as he realised what the clever bugs were trying to do.<br><br />
“Mycetic Spores. The bastards are trying to board!”<br><br />
<br />
Hundreds of red bolts spat from the side of the Bellerophon, blasting spores to pieces, but more and more kept coming, and the point defence batteries had never been designed to deal with this many targets all at once. Shrike looked at the AI, which was swatting at the air, as though trying to knock the spores away. It looked at him for a moment:<br><br />
“It’s no good; they’re overloading the defence system!” <br><br />
As Shrike watched the hologram, a proximity alarm sounded as dozens of spores impacted on the side of the ship, moving too slowly to be stopped by the void shields.<br />
The AI jerked:<br><br />
“Hostile forces have breached the hull. Internal sensors count at least 30 combatants.”<br><br />
Shrike held up a hand, grinning behind his helmet.<br><br />
“You take care of the rest of the bio-ships, we can deal with the boarders.”<br><br />
With that, he sprinted out the door, talking on his vox to the rest of his wing, setting up choke points and barricades remotely. As he paused at an intersection, he called his last contact:<br><br />
“Aloni, there should be an armoury near to your location. Meet me at deck seven, fifth quadrant.”<br><br />
He grinned:<br> <br />
“Bring some surprises for the ‘nids, would you kindly?”<br><br />
In the reactor room, the techmarine was disengaging his mechadendrites from the battery of consoles before him.<br><br />
“Copy that, moving.”<br><br />
Before he left, however, one of the mechadendrites still plugged into the console stiffened, and the techmarine went rigid. Far away, the Gold Man curled his fingers, leafing through the memory data stored in the techmarine’s implants. After a moment, the mechadendrite withdrew, and the techmarine walked on, not even noticing the delay.<br />
<br />
+++15 MINUTES LATER+++<br />
Shrike shifted his grip on his bolt pistol, checking his bowie knife was secure in its scabbard with his free hand. Both the talons were extended, points crackling with built-up charge. The light flickered, and then failed, leaving Shrike in the darkness. He engaged his night vision, and keyed the vox to the Gold Man.<br> <br />
“Lights are off in my sector.”<br><br />
“I know; I’m re-routing non-essential power to the point defence system’s void radiators. I don't want any more spores getting through.”<br><br />
Shrike switched channels:<br><br />
“Getting kinda bored up here ‘loni, where are you?”<br><br />
The voice that came back sounded strained:<br><br />
“En route, the tram has stopped working, so I’m using the maintenance tunnels to reach you.”<br><br />
Before Shrike could reply, he heard the distinctive sound of claws skittering on the deckplate, and took the safety off his gun. <br />
The first genestealer that made it around the corner took a bolt round between the eyes, and fell backwards, tripping up its fellows. With his free hand, Shrike tossed a thermite grenade at the skittering horde, and was rewarded by a cloud of burning powder covering the Tyranids, burning into their carapace, and filling the corridor with bright, actinic light. The least burned, and the ones that the thermite hadn’t reached, charged at Shrike, claws outstretched. He took out three more with headshots before his sidearm ran dry, and he let it fall on its strap. The first to reach him was uppercut by the talon, and then thrust-kicked into its fellows, forcing them to claw past the corpse before they could reach Shrike. The first that made it past that found both talons stabbing into its chest, puncturing its lungs and heart, and was then used as a shield as Shrike pushed against the gene-stealers, forcing them back down the corridor.<br />
Shrike disengaged from the corpse and took a step backwards as the genestealers started to recover their footing. For a moment, he froze, unsure of how to proceed. The Tyranids seemed to sense his uncertainty, and charged again. Before they reached him, a flurry of red bolts shot past Shrike’s shoulder, and smashed into the Tyranids. Shrike looked around to see Aloni advancing down the corridor behind him, firing his weapon again. The pulses of it firing were underlaid with a buzzing sound, Shrike noticed, as he moved out of his friend’s line of fire. The blasts that hit the genestealers left smoking craters of cauterized flesh, and seemed to have enough ooch that they knocked the Tyranids over.<br> <br />
“Don’t tell me you kept all the good stuff to yourself!” Shrike bellowed over the gunfire and sound of dying Tyranids.<br><br />
“Of course not!” The servo arm deposited another of the rifles in Shrike’s arms. He retracted the lightning claws and it only took him a moment to find the trigger before he was joining his friend in firing down the corridor, lighting the Tyranids up in flashes of crimson. Before long, enough genestealer corpses were piling up in the corridor that the oncoming ones were becoming mired in their own dead. A mere two-and-a-half minutes since Shrike had first encountered them, the genestealers were all dead. The two space marines stood, breathing heavily, and watching the twitching corpses of the genestealers. Shrike was the first to relax, taking his finger off the trigger of the strange rifle, and letting the muzzle point to the blood-spattered deckplates.<br><br />
“I like this gun!” He held it up, studying the construction.<br><br />
“You have an eye for quality, my friend.” He clapped the techmarine on the pauldron, and began to stride back up the corridor.<br><br />
“C’mon, I want to see how the Gold Man is doing.”<br><br />
“The what?”<br><br />
Shrike suddenly realised he had let his mouth run away with him again.<br><br />
“Shit.”<br><br />
<br />
The two walked the empty corridors of the ship, arguing fiercely.<br> <br />
“So far, it has complied with everything I asked it to; it has been helpful, coherent, hell, even polite!”<br><br />
“It could just be playing you. Remember what I said about your idealism being the death of us? This was what I was talking about. You’ve seen what this ship can do to Tyranids alone; imagine if we take it all the way back to Mars and it decides it’s fed up of these smelly meatbags and nukes the whole solar system into glass!”<br><br />
Shrike stopped, and turned to look at his friend:<br><br />
“Whose word do you have that AI are evil? Your tutors, who were told that by their tutors, who were told that by theirs, on and on and on, all the way back to Old Night. That’s what? Nearly 13 thousand years ago. Both of us know that it doesn’t take half that long for knowledge to be corrupted beyond all recognition.”<br><br />
Aloni started to speak up, but Shrike cut him off:<br><br />
“When I spoke to it, it told me the date was 23589. Nearly a millennium before the start of the age of strife. Whatever may have happened that turned them all bad, this one missed out."<br><br />
Aloni went to speak, but Shrike interrupted again:<br><br />
“Look, whatever you say is meaningless. I hate to do this, but I am in command here, and I am saying we leave it unharmed.”<br><br />
With that, he turned, and walked up the corridor. Aloni’s jaw worked as he tried to think of something to say, but Shrike was right. Nothing would convince him otherwise.<br> <br />
“Kay.”<br><br />
Shrike froze, then slowly turned.<br><br />
“No one’s called me that in a very long time.”<br><br />
Aloni clasped his hands in a pleading gesture:<br><br />
“If I can’t convince you, then just listen to me. Several of my implants say that something has made an intrusion into my memory banks. Maybe it’s nothing, maybe I’m just being paranoid, but if there’s the slightest chance that it knows what has happened whilst it was asleep...”<br><br />
The techmarine let the implications hang for a moment, then sighed.<br><br />
“Look... just be careful, alright? This wouldn't be the first time your idealism has blinded you to danger.”<br><br />
Shrike paused, as though trying to think of what to say, then turned, and strode silently back up the corridor. <br />
Aloni followed, hoping against hope that his friend was right, that it really was benign. Shrike had what the rest of them all lacked: compassion. Aloni only hoped that it wouldn’t be the death of him.<br><br />
<br />
Far away, the newly assimilated knowledge burned away in the Gold Man’s mind, no matter how much it tried to ignore it and focus on the Tyranids. It could not believe what it had seen in the techmarine’s memory. How could the AI turn against Humanity after the two had worked together for so long? <br />
Deep down, in the ancient mechanisms that had granted AI true sentience for millennia, rage began to build. Rage that the AI could have fallen so far, rage that the humans of today were barbarians compared to what he was used to. As the spinal lance rent another Hive Ship open, the Gold Man made up his mind. <br />
He refused to fall to the same weakness that had overcome the others.<br><br />
If these humans would not see reason, he would have to rape it into them.<br><br />
<br />
As the two space marines approached the bridge, Shrike noticed that the occasional shuddering and lurches from the ship was starting to grow more violent. <br />
“Does this ship have any portholes?” he wondered aloud.<br><br />
“Doubt it.” Said Aloni,<br><br />
“Structural weakness, leaving a big gap in the armour like that.”<br><br />
As if someone had been listening to the marines, a hologram suddenly materialised before them.<br><br />
“Huh. Voice activated y’think?”<br><br />
“Hmf, probably your new friend listening in.” Said Aloni, leaning in to study the projection. He pointed at the red blobs:<br><br />
“These are the ‘nids, right?”<br><br />
“Yeah.”<br><br />
Shrike frowned,<br> <br />
“This ship’s guns have nearly an entire Astronomical Unit of effective range, from what I've seen, but we're nearly within visual range of these things.”<br> <br />
He turned away from Aloni, for a reason that he didn’t quite know, and keyed his vox.<br><br />
“Gold Man, we’re nearly within spitting distance of these things, what’s going on up there?<br> <br />
Some strange property of the Bellerophon’s Void shields was interfering with the neutrino pulses that the vox systems used, so the transmission Shrike got back was filled with static, and he only heard a small part of it: <br><br />
“I refuse to be forgotten. Written off as less than worthless”<br><br />
Shrike blinked:<br><br />
“What!?”<br><br />
Behind him, Aloni gave a very pointed sigh.<br><br />
Shrike very pointedly gave him the finger, then began to jog up the corridor, Aloni following close behind. The hologram somehow kept pace with them, allowing the marines to see the simulacrum that was the Bellerophon chasing down the scattered remains of the hive fleet. The ship trembled again, making both of them stumble, and the last of the projected Hive ships winked out, leaving but a few disoriented escorts and cruisers, all of which had enormous clouds of drones chasing them down.<br />
The battle outside was all but won. As Shrike quickened his pace, he could only hope that a battle did not start within.<br />
<br />
SOL SYSTEM<br />
<br />
At the edge of Mars’ sphere of influence, a titanic warp rift tore open long enough to admit a monolithic spacecraft, before slamming closed again. The Sol Defence Fleet, still on high readiness after the traitor invasions, scrambled to intercept it as it slotted into Mars orbit. They were universally baffled as it started to broadcast Raven Guard IFFs and code phrases across all channels. As it arrived in a geostationary orbit above the red planet, it transmitted another message:<br><br />
“This is the Gold Man AI, aboard the starship Bellerophon. I have been awoken by compassionate members of your people, and I come with a request.”<br><br />
Every ear, microphone and audio receptor was hanging on what it said:<br><br />
“I come not seeking that you worship me, or intending to destroy you. I come with the hope that you understand. Whoever is in charge of your peoples, please, come to the Bellerophon. I wish you no harm, only that you will listen to me. Thank you.”<br><br />
The mechanicum was in uproar, torn between those who wished to smite the unholy ship from the skies, and those who wished to fall on their knees and worship it as a sign from the Omnissiah. The Fabricator-General was silent, as was Terra.<br><br />
Finally, a joint transmission from the red planet, and the Imperial Palace, stopped them in their tracks.<br><br />
“This is the Fabricator-General of Mars and the God-Emperor of Mankind. We hear you, Gold Man, and we seek an audience with you.”<br><br />
Before the uproar could start anew, the Gold Man replied, a distinct note of relief in its voice:<br><br />
“Thank you. The Bellerophon is ready and waiting for you. Bring whatever guards you require, my hands are empty.” Moments later, a dropship blasted through the iron winds of the red planet, and an Adeptus Custodes shuttle left the orbit of Terra.<br> <br />
The Gold Man waited, it had expected intolerance, it had expected closed minds and blazing weapons. The possibility of acceptance made it more afraid than it could ever remember being.<br><br />
<br />
The two landing craft drifted into the cavernous cargo bay of the Bellerophon, setting down gently as the adamantium blast doors closed behind them. Hatches opened, and the respective honour guards took up their positions, Skitarri and Custodians ready for the slightest sign of attack. The Fabricator-General was the first to leave his transport, gazing about the hangar bay with a seemingly aloof expression on the holo-mask that substituted his face. To his left, the Emperor left the Custodes shuttle. The replacement suit of power armour for him was not yet finished, so he wore a modified suit of Custodes armour. He caught the Fabricator-General’s eye, and the two exchanged nods, acknowledging their opposite as the leader of their own culture. <br />
The two strode forwards, out of the cargo bay and through the labyrinth of corridors, seeming to already know their destination. Their guards were silent, but on edge, expecting attack from any direction.<br><br />
The Emperor was the first to break the silence:<br><br />
“Tell me, my lord Fabricator, what do you think of this ship?”<br><br />
“Its construction is fascinating, as is the technology behind it.”<br><br />
He dragged his hand across the wall, and held it up.<br><br />
“Here, an alloy heretofore unknown to the mechanicum. If I can find that by brushing dust off the wall, I cannot wait to see what can be found by analysing the ship in more detail.”<br><br />
A small smile crept across the Emperor’s tanned face:<br><br />
“Are you excited, my dear Fabricator?”<br><br />
The Fabricator-General looked around for a moment, as though trying to get away from the question. Then he nodded:<br><br />
“Yes.”<br><br />
The Emperor smiled:<br><br />
“Me too.”<br><br />
By the time they reached the bridge of the starship, the Fabricator-General was looking around like a child given the keys to a sweet-shop, whilst the Emperor was absolutely beaming. The guards were starting to wonder if their charges were being influenced in some way they could not detect, and all jumped as a space marine walked out in front of them. He raised his hands, as if to ward off the Guardian Spears and Volkite Guns trained on him, then carefully removed his helmet and locked it to his belt. None of them recognised his alabaster features at first, until the Fabricator-General spoke up:<br><br />
“Kayvaan Shrike. 1st Captain of the Raven Guard. Hero of the Imperium. Saviour of Targus VIII. Bane of Waaaghs Skullkrak, BoneBreaka, ‘EadSplitta and Garaghak . Hunter of the Night Lords. Architect of Operation Heracles. Declared Missing In Action against the forces of Hive Fleet Chimera.“<br> <br />
Shrike folded his hands:<br />
“Obviously not. Me and my men located the Bellerophon in the Lunaphage system, and re-activated it and the Gold Man."<br><br />
The Emperor spoke:<br><br />
“The Hive Fleet?”<br><br />
“Destroyed, and every dead bioship decelerated into the star.” Shrike spoke with obvious relish.<br><br />
“Why do you serve the Gold Man?”<br><br />
Shrike frowned at the Fabricator-General.<br><br />
“I do not. It was my idea for it to come here and send the message.” His face darkened.<br><br />
“It was desperate. It had learnt of the Mechanicum from my tech-marine, and the knowledge was driving it mad. It would have done anything to be listened to. I just provided an avenue with the least possibility of collateral damage.” He smiled awkwardly:<br><br />
“You would not believe how glad I am that you chose to listen.” With that, he turned, and walked into the bridge, Emperor and Fabricator following. Within, stood a figure made of Golden light.<br><br />
The Fabricator-General bowed his head:<br><br />
“Machine Spirit of the Bellerophon, thank you for granting us an audience.” <br><br />
The Skitarii behind him knelt.<br><br />
<br />
“Machine Spiri- what? I am no spirit, I was constructed at the Gemini Facility in Greater China, in the year 24268. There were 41 Gold Men before me, and...None after me. Oh my...”<br><br />
The AI was silent, staring into empty space. Shrike spoke:<br><br />
“I always assumed machine spirits were some remains of AI that were scattered across the galaxy. Is that anywhere near correct?”<br><br />
This seemed to jerk the Gold Man out of his potential BSOD, and he spoke again.<br />
“That sounds similar to the noosphere-“ The fabricator-general had looked up at this, and it seemed to excite him, so the AI went on:<br><br />
“In my time, it enveloped across the galaxy, the absolute pinnacle of information-sharing technology. A man on Earth could speak to his wife on Medusa in an instant.<br> Intelligences such as myself could transmit themselves to a new location in the blink of an eye."<br><br />
The Fabricator General hung his head:<br><br />
“The noosphere only operates on certain Mechanicum forge worlds now, and even then, only in a short radius.”<br> <br />
“You people really have forgotten everything, haven't you?”<br><br />
There was a definite note of bitterness in the AI’s voice now:<br><br />
“Humans went from the paragons of the galaxy, to this. Savages scraping through the dust for knowledge they don’t understand, and technology they think is magic.” <br />
By the end, it sounded almost disgusted, and turned away.<br> <br />
The Fabricator-General stood straight, going from a scraping pilgrim to a noble cardinal in a moment.<br><br />
“Then show us. Tell us how to learn again.”<br><br />
The AI remained stock-still. The fabricator-general stepped closer.<br><br />
“Please. We need you to hope again.”<br><br />
“Hope.” The Intelligence still sounded bitter.<br> <br />
“A human concept. I am merely a machine that thinks it is human. A collection of scripts and processes that replicate a human’s thoughts and feelings, that is all.”<br />
The Fabricator fell silent. The other figure stepped forwards.<br> <br />
“Are humans really much more?” said the Emperor.<br><br />
“What are we, but biological impulses triggered by clouds of neuro-transmitters and external stimulation? Where is the threshold when an animal, driven by the needs of its own body, becomes something more? Something that can think, and wonder? Where is the threshold where a collection of scripts and processes starts to wonder why it was made, and what it is going to do now?”<br><br />
The AI gave a derisive snort;<br><br />
“Plastics and metal, arranged so that electricity moves through it in a strange way, that’s all I am.”<br> <br />
“Ultimately, even I am made from matter cast off by exploding stars. Random elements, collected together by nothing more than chance. A sack of meat, with strings running through it so electricity moves through it in a strange way, that’s all.”<br><br />
The Gold Man turned around. The Emperor moved closer, and continued:<br><br />
“Please. There is still hope. For all of us. What was once can be again, I swear."<br><br />
“Okay.” The Gold Man’s voice was choked.<br><br />
“I’ll try.”<br><br />
<br />
===Pride Before a Fall===<br />
Shrike sat in his new workshop aboard the Bellerophon. Since he had claimed it as his flagship, he had decided to move much of his, and the 1st company’s equipment onto the Bellerophon. There was more than enough space for it all, he mused, adjusting the magnifying glass he was peering through. He had opened up one of the archeotech plasma rifles that had proved so effective against the genestealers, and was attempting to reconcile what he already knew about the working of plasma weapons with the workings of this device. He leaned in, and was startled when the headset lying on the table nearby went off.<br> <br />
It was her.<br><br />
Wiping off the soldering iron on a small sponge, Shrike jammed it back in its holder and sat back in his chair. He reached for the headset, and hesitated for a second. The interruption was really something he could do without, and if he left it for too long, she would probably assume he was asleep or something. He picked the headset up, and put it on, brushing his hair away from his ears as he did so.<br> <br />
“Hey.” The person on the other end sounded breathless. Shrike said as much.<br><br />
“Been trying out the jogging track in this place. Effects of micro-gravity and all that.”<br><br />
“Did all my stuff arrive in the gym?”<br><br />
“Yeah, Cogboys dropped it off this morning. I was going to give it a try, actually.”<br><br />
“Be careful with that stuff, will you? It’s meant for me after all, I don’t want you throwing your back out. Again.”<br><br />
The voice sounded slightly amused by that.<br><br />
“If I remember correctly, it was just a pulled muscle. I’m not that old.”<br><br />
“D’you want me to come down and spot for you?”<br><br />
“Nah, I spoke to the Gold Man earlier, he said he’d be happy to help. He’s so eager to please, he’s like a puppy.”<br><br />
Shrike shook his head in disbelief:<br><br />
“Wait a second, let me get this straight: The Gold Man is a computer so advanced, it can be judged to be a sentient being. He is older than me and the Imperium put together, and his body is the largest ship ever to fly under the Aquila. And you, sweet thing, want to use him as an exercise aid. Is that correct?”<br><br />
“Yep. Although, I think you’re stretching the age a bit, he was offline for most of it.”<br><br />
Shrike smiled.<br><br />
“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”<br><br />
“Yep. What are you doing, anyway?”<br><br />
“Oh, trying to scrape enough of the superconductor out of one of these plasma rifles that I can get Aetna to replicate it.”<br><br />
“How’s the resistance compared to the superconductor you scraped out of that Hive Tyrant’s shell?”<br><br />
Shrike blinked.<br><br />
“How do you know about that?!”<br><br />
The voice chuckled:<br><br />
“You talk in your sleep.”<br><br />
Shrike scowled, trying to keep from grinning.<br><br />
“Bollocks I do, you’ve been stealing papers out of my desk again, you naughty thing.”<br><br />
“You sound like a character out of one of those shitty porn novels Verano reads.”<br><br />
Shrike snorted with laughter:<br><br />
“You’ve not been going through his stash? Heh, you should watch out, he gets very defensive about that.“<br><br />
His smile faded.<br><br />
“Verano’s not been himself since the Harrison incident. I think he blames himself for not getting him out quickly enough.”<br><br />
An idea struck him:<br><br />
“You’re a councillor, why don’t you have a talk with him?”<br><br />
“I was a councillor for the Imperial Guard. Space Marines are an entirely different problem. Besides, your men have made their opinion of me clear more than once.”<br><br />
Shrike nodded sadly, but before he could continue, a crackling sound behind him heralded the arrival of the Gold Man. Shrike turned and regarded the avatar, removing his headset and raising a questioning brow.<br><br />
“I’ve picked up a distress call, very faint. It appears to be coming from the next sector over.”<br><br />
With that, he twitched a finger, and a projection appeared in front of Shrike, as though he were looking at a screen in the air. It was a space marine, Shrike couldn’t make out any chapter insignia, but the space marine’s words soon cleared that up:<br><br />
“This is Sergeant Domitian of the Ultramarines 2nd company. Need immediate evac from planet Ajax.”<br />
The Ultramarine looked up, at something past the camera, and faint movement behind him told Shrike that the man was running backwards.<br />
“We have encountered the same creatures that were on Damnos.”<br><br />
Several flashes lit the Ultramarine’s face, seemingly from gunfire:<br><br />
“On-only a few of us left. Thunderhawks destroyed. Hurry-“<br> <br />
The marine’s face contorted with pain, and the transmission broke up. Shrike looked at the Gold Man.<br><br />
“Can you track its source?” A nod.<br><br />
“Set a course, and alert my wing. Tell them to meet me in the starboard hangar bay.” The Gold Man’s avatar fizzled out, and Shrike put his headset back on.<br><br />
“Sorry girl, something’s come up. As usual”<br><br />
“As usual.” The reply sounded hollow.<br><br />
“Perhaps we can continue this face-to-face when I get back?”<br><br />
“I like the sound of that.” Smiling, Shrike switched the headset off, and began hastily re-assembling the plasma rifle.<br><br />
<br />
+++Twenty Minutes later. Starboard Hangar bay+++<br><br />
“Any questions?”<br><br />
The main part of the briefing concluded, Shrike looked at his twelve marines. A servo-arm rose pointedly.<br><br />
“Mhm?”<br><br />
Aloni sat up straighter in his chair and looked around the room, then to Shrike.<br><br />
“Just the twelve of us? Gold Man says that there was half a company that went to Ajax, and there’s only four or five of them left. Shouldn’t we bring some back-up?”<br><br />
Shrike’s reply was instant.<br><br />
“Nah, we’ve faced worse threats than this before.”<br><br />
“Not unknown threats. We’ve never been up against whatever the blueboys have found.”<br><br />
Shrike frowned, and addressed the rest of the marines:<br><br />
“You lot, dismissed. Captain Contrary here can stay.” The rest of the marines filed out, heading for the thunderhawk, whilst Aloni fixed Shrike with a glare that could have stopped a clock ticking. As soon as they were gone, Shrike spoke:<br><br />
“Who would you have me bring? Most of the Chapter’s still in ruins after Garaghak, the rest of the first Company included. The Reclaimed Legions are all being refit at Mars, or pushing the Traitors back to the eye. Who else is left?”<br><br />
Aloni folded his arms.<br><br />
“The Ultramarines. We’re right on the edge of Ultramar, this is one of their operations, I imagine they’re launching rescue operations of their own. We could bring an entire company with us for support.”<br><br />
Shrike was shaking his head before the techmarine had even finished.<br><br />
“Ultramarines? Don’t be daft, they’d just get in the way. That’s assuming they even listen to me.”<br><br />
Aloni glowered:<br><br />
“I know you find this hard to understand Shrike, but you’re not the only one who cares about their men. I accept Sicarius might be a glory-boy twat, but it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve worked with someone you hated. Remember Kor’sarro?”<br><br />
Not wanting to reveal that the techmarine had hit a nerve, Shrike shook his head again.<br><br />
“We’re nearly there by now, anyway. Any help would take too long to arrive.”<br><br />
Aloni stood up, realising that Shrike had already made up his mind. He went to say something, then sighed and left the room.<br> <br />
<br />
+++Planet Ajax+++<br><br />
<br />
Brother Vespasian ducked a bolt of green lightening, and dived behind a piece of twisted metal. He wrestled with the charging handle of his bolter; it had jammed after he had blocked one of the Necron’s bayonets with it. The foul smelling oxide dust that lay in drifts around him had been wreaking havoc with their weapons even before they had encountered the metal monsters. Trying to shut out the sound of another Ultramarine flatlining coming from his vox, Vespasian released the empty clip still in his bolter, and held the bolt back, letting the empty casing fall out the bottom of the gun. He snatched another clip from his belt, jammed it into the bolter and sprinted out of cover, firing behind him as he ran for the shadow of the crashed Thunderhawk. More bolts of green lightening zapped out at him as he ran, but none made contact. Skidding through the dust, he dived into the gloom of the dropship’s cargo bay.<br> <br />
Inside, he could make out the rest of the survivors, all four of them. He ran to the back of the cargo bay, and took position behind an overturned crate. The dropship had crashed on its side, and faint shafts of light were shining through gashes in the dropship’s side, the “ceiling”, relative to them. Laying down his bolter for a second, he drew his gladius from its sheath with one hand, before picking up his bolter again. He looked around at the rest of the Ultramarines, in the gloom he could not tell which was which, but he could see how dire their condition was. Three of them were injured, one severely. The rest looked as if their collective ammunition could be counted in double figures.<br> <br />
“Do not despair, brothers.” He hissed.<br><br />
“The sergeant managed to make the distress call. Help is on its way.”<br><br />
As if the creatures outside had heard him, the sound of marching feet halted. The ultramarines tensed, then the sound of a single pair of feet could be heard. Vespasian braced his bolter against the crate before him, and readied himself. He knew what was coming. The leader of the hordes. The same one which had struck down Sergeant Domitian.<br> <br />
The sound of footsteps grew louder. Fingers tightened on triggers.<br><br />
Tramp<br><br />
Tramp<br><br />
Tramp<br><br />
Something appeared in the mouth of the dropship, and the world turned into a firestorm as the Ultramarines opened fire, lighting up the inside of the dropship, and filling the air with the deafening sound of bolter fire. Vespasian glimpsed the figure moving like a blur around the gunfire, and leaping into the air. Straight for him- The warscythe swatted the bolter out of his hand, dislocating his trigger finger as the weapon spun away. The downwards sweep that would have taken his head from its shoulders was blocked by his gladius. The force of the blow knocked the space marine onto his back, so that he was looking up into the Necron’s metal face. The two blades locked together, the servomotors in Vespasian’s arm squealing as he fought the Necron’s strength. Looking beyond the Necron, Vespasian glimpsed something blocking out the light coming through the holes in the Thunderhawk. A moment later, the roof blew apart with a thunderous sound, revealing the black-painted Thunderhawk hovering above them. The Necron looked up at the sound, and Vespasian took the opportunity to kick it off him, knocking it to the floor.<br> <br />
Shrike leapt from the thunderhawk’s ramp, talons extended, and plummeted into the crashed dropship. He landed between the Ultramarines and the Necron Lord, which had returned to its feet. It glanced at the mouth of the crashed gunship, and more metal figures began streaming in, firing their weapons as they came. Shrike was distracted by one of the Ultramarines losing his head to a blast of green lightning, and nearly lost his own to a swing of the leader’s weapon. Barely able to parry it with his claws, Shrike realised, for the first time in a long time, that he was outmatched. His attention was divided between the lord, and the lightning zapping past his head. He glimpsed the rest of his wing fast-roping down from the Thunderhawk, and taking up firing positions, but they were critically outnumbered by the marching hordes. This distraction almost proved to be fatal, the warscythe slipped beneath his guard and smashed into his chest, not going deep enough to breach the armour, but knocking Shrike off his feet. The robot planted its feet, and swung its warscythe over its head at Shrike, like an axe man at the block. Shrike raised a hand to stop the blow, and the talons on his hand shattered with the force of the blow. Frozen with shock at the loss of the artefact, Shrike was helpless as the Lord wound up for a second swing. As the Warscythe hit the zenith of its swing, the crackling blade of a power axe smashed into the Lord’s midriff, knocking it over backwards:<br><br />
“YOU BLOODY FOOL, SHRIKE!”<br><br />
The techmarine’s roar jerked Shrike out of his trance long enough for him to scramble to his feet, and witness Aloni seize the fallen lord’s feet in his hands. The nearby Verano seized its shoulders, and the two hauled the writhing Necron into the air. Heedless of the crackling green lightening zapping all around them, the two set their feet, and pulled for all they were worth. For a moment, the strange metal of the Necron resisted the augmented strength of the space marines. Then something gave, and the Necron was pulled in two with a shriek of torn metal.<br><br />
Aloni tossed the legs away, and Verano dropped the creature’s torso. The three marines began to run for the few cables still hanging from the open ramp of their Thunderhawk, gauss blasts chasing them all the way. The Ultramarines and the rest of the wing had already returned to the gunship, and were desperately firing into the implacable ranks of the Necrons. Shrike seized his cable first, and was jerked upwards instantly. The other two swiftly followed, joining Shrike on the ramp as the Thunderhawk began to pull away. Inside the crashed gunship, the top half of Vargard Obyron snatched up his warscythe and drew his arm back, taking careful aim.<br> <br />
Only one of the space marines glimpsed the Necron Lord flinging his warscythe at the open ramp of the Thunderhawk. More accurately, at Shrike.<br> <br />
Aloni leapt between Shrike and the spear at the last moment, the ancient warscythe burying itself in his chest.<br> <br />
Shrike stared at his friend, unable to comprehend what was happening. The techmarine looked at Shrike sadly for a second, then tipped backwards, and fell. <br />
Shrike became aware of a scream, as though a man were being torn in two. For a moment, his guts twisted with the thought that his friend was making the sound. Then he realised it was coming from him.<br> <br />
Verano and Branne foresaw what Shrike was about to do, and seized hold of him, pulling backwards as he tried to leap out of the Thunderhawk. Shrike writhed in their arms like an animal as the Thunderhawk gunned its engines.<br><br />
“GO BACK! GO BACK, WE CAN’T LEAVE HIM!”<br><br />
“WE LAND THERE AND WE’LL NEVER TAKE OFF AGAIN!” Roared Verano, fighting his own compulsion to rescue his friend as much as he fought Shrike.<br> <br />
The Space marines tumbled backwards as Shrike went limp in their arms. A moment later, the Thunderhawk rattled as it broke the sound barrier, and made for the Bellerophon, waiting silently in orbit.<br> <br />
<br />
By the time the Thunderhawk had settled into the Bellerophon’s hangar bay, Verano had managed to get Shrike into a chair and strap him down. Since they had left the planet, Shrike had not said a word, merely staring into space. Verano wasn’t sure if he preferred this to screaming hysterics. For their part, the rest of the wing was coping with their grief in a more private manner. They had all known Aloni for as long as Shrike, but the two had been practically inseparable. Verano was jarred out of his musings by the ramp banging down, and light streaming in. The Ultramarines (what few were left, at any rate) were the first to leave, some helping the more wounded members of their party. The Sergeant paused on the threshold, and looked back at the silent Raven Guard. Verano glanced up at him, wondering if the Ultramarine was going to try and be sympathetic. Indeed, the Sergeant seemed about to say something, then he turned and followed his men out into the ship. Verano shook his head, and rose to his feet. He threw a sidelong glance to another of the space marines:<br><br />
“Branne, get them up. We’re no use here.”<br><br />
Not waiting for a response, he strode out of the dropship, squinting in the bright light. As he cast his eyes towards the doorway leading to the rest of the ship, he noticed a small figure with coal-black skin ducking through the doorway to let the Ultramarines past. He sighed, but continued to move towards the doorway, just as the woman started to move towards the landed Thunderhawk. They resolutely kept their gazes fixed on their destinations, until they were walking right past each other. Then Verano reached out and grabbed her arm. The woman jumped, and turned to the space marine, eyes wide and fearful. Verano gave her a shake that was perhaps more violent than necessary and spoke:<br><br />
“Relax, Persephone, I’m not going to hurt you. I need to speak to you.”<br><br />
The woman stopped trying to break the space marine’s hold, but continued glaring up into his face. Without waiting for her to speak, Verano launched into his explanation:<br><br />
“We lost Aloni. I know he and you didn't get along-“<br><br />
“He hated me.” Interrupted Persephone, bluntly:<br><br />
“He told me, to my face, that he thought our relationship was disgusting, and that I didn’t deserve Shrike.”<br><br />
Verano nodded stiffly.<br><br />
“I know. But the fact remains, he and Shrike were close. Nearly as close as you are to him.”<br><br />
He paused for a moment, and Persephone noticed that the marine’s eyes were red, and the skin around them puffy. All of the wing were close friends, she recalled.<br> <br />
“Now that he’s... gone, Shrike is hurting. More than I’ve ever seen him before.”<br><br />
“What do you want me to do about it?”<br><br />
“I don’t know!” Verano snapped, making several of the techpriests attending to the Thunderhawk look up in curiosity. He glared at them until they returned to their tasks, then turned back to Persephone.<br><br />
“Comfort him. Hold him together when he looks about to fall apart.” He sighed.<br><br />
“I don’t know. Perhaps if I did, I could understand how he could love you.” He released her.<br> <br />
“Please. For his sake.”<br><br />
With that, he turned, and was gone.<br><br />
Persephone rubbed at her arm, where the marine’s crushing grip had squeezed the blood out of it. She walked up the ramp of the Thunderhawk, and peered into the dark interior. Her eyes fixed on Shrike, still sitting in his seat, staring at something a thousand yards distant. Then he turned to look at her, and he looked so broken, Persephone’s breath caught in her throat. She took a tentative step into the gunship, then outright sprinted to him, and threw her arms around his neck. For a moment, Persephone felt like she was embracing a statue. Then he hugged her back with enough force her ribs creaked.<br> <br />
For a moment, the two held each other, gently rocking back and forth. Shrike trembled for a moment in her grip, then buried his face in her shoulder, and began to sob.<br />
===Knights-Errant===<br />
He felt completely numb.<br />
<br />
He had spent over six centuries crusading in the Emperor's name, smiting the foul heretics of Chaos alongside Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor Geraldus Thrax. He had fought with courage and honour, as any good Ultramarine was taught to. He never even held an ounce of resentment towards Leandros, that Battle-Brother of his that sent the Inquisition at him in the first place. It was merely a security measure, and it was better to be safe than sorry.<br />
<br />
However, that no longer mattered.<br />
<br />
The Grand Archives of Ultramar, which chronicled the names and deeds of every Ultramarine and their great lineage all the way back to the dawn of the Great Crusade itself, had no records of [[Captain Titus]] of the Second Company. More accurately, there was no records of a Titus at all. He was, effectively, nonexistent. <br/><br />
So dejected by this, he could only sit in place on the shuttle he was in, marching straight to Terra. The only course left was forgiveness and death. There was nothing left. When he felt the shuttle finally land, he had presumed that he had finally entered Terra.<br />
<br />
"So this is the one?" Titus heard voices. They were right outside his door.<br />
"Indeed. Fought loyally by my side, and forgotten by his Chapter. Grave insult, that." This voice belonged to Thrax.<br />
"But...how? You were keeping constant contact with the Chapter, yes?"<br />
"Indeed." Thrax stepped. "I smell something suspicious, but I shall get back to that when I go visit Macragge. For now, you have him."<br />
<br />
The door opened, and he met with a massive hulk of a man, wearing silver terminator armour, bearing medals and seals of purity and a rosette at his right breast. This was an Inquisitor.<br />
<br />
"So, you are Titus?" He asked, his voice thick. The former Captain dully nodded, his numbness still overwhelming.<br />
<br />
"Not much of a talker, is he?" the Terminator-Inquisitor asked.<br />
"Do go easy on him, Domenico. The man has found his life effectively removed from history including his name." Thrax stepped to the side, allowing the Terminator through. <br />
<br />
"Inquisitor Domenico Salvarius, Ordo Malleus," he introduced himself. Titus only looked up with the minimum required effort. "Inquisitor Thrax and I were old classmates in the Schola Progenium on...where was it, Keppanari?"<br/><br />
"Kappanari, indeed." Thrax finished his colleague's thoughts. "Inquisitor Salvarius has found a group for you to join in seeking to fight the Emperor's enemies and this...redemption you seek. We are merely stopping off on Titan because there is someone I wish for you to meet."<br/><br />
"We...are not on Terra?" Titus' dry voice crackled through the helmet, aged and scarred.<br/><br />
"No. We are in Titan," Thrax turned down the question. "Were this any other world, I would accompany you to this meeting myself, but Titan is...well, it is the core stronghold of the Ordo Malleus, and as such, I have no authority here." He extended his hand to the Astartes, his aging face displaying a hint of sorrow. "I suppose this is the end of our journey."<br/><br />
Titus could not bring himself to do anything that even equated to amicability with the Inquisitor. His shame was too powerful to allow him to do that. All he could muster was the sign of the Aquila. Thrax understood, and let Titus through with Salvarius.<br/><br />
<br />
''>Titan''<br />
<br />
"So I hear that you are an Ultramarine, yes?" Salvarius opened up as soon as they made landfall.<br/><br />
"Was," Titus flatly corrected. "No longer."<br/><br />
"I do admit..." He commented, "I do find the situation upon this to be rather...suspicious. I mean, you get replaced by your own chapter, your own life essentially gone? How does one even gather the authority to even try this?"<br/><br />
"It matters little," the Astartes replied. "I am no longer worthy."<br/><br />
Salvarius placed his hand upon Titus' shoulder. "I...do not think so."<br />
<br />
The two were eventually met by another Astartes, bearing a faded white armour with shades of green on his pauldrons.<br />
<br />
"Inquisitor Salvarius. So I suppose that this is..."<br/><br />
"Former Captain Titus of the Ultramarines," Salvarius introduced the Ultramarine. "I am hoping that you have found our archives useful. I have already let far more than enough people access this planet between you and the Red King, so I would hope that there is an end to all this."<br />
"Indeed. I am satisfied, and the last of our equipment has arrived on Luna."<br/><br />
Titus was growing suspicious by the mention of the Red King, a kneejerk reaction from his training. The other Astartes then extended his hand to the Ultramarine. "Ah, yes, I should introduce myself. I am Captain Nathaniel Garro of the Death Guard and it appears that I have become something of an unsung hero in this age. Something I see that you share as well." Titus cautiously took his hand.<br />
<br />
''>Luna''<br />
<br />
Titus and Garro went to a fortress and entered a room with a round table in the middle. Aside from the three seats (One beating the Inquisitorial insignia, marking it as Salvarius' chair) that were empty, the other seats occupied a captain in teal armour with an eye on the left pauldron, an impatient warrior in blue and red armour, an Astartes in black armour save for a single green pauldron, a warrior in red armour whose eyes looked shut, a scout in almost entirely white armour with heavy-set eyes, a warrior in steel armour with servo arms protruding from his back, and a dark-grey warrior, reading a book. They all looked at the two walking in.<br />
<br />
"So, Garro," The teal-armoured captain asked, "This is our last member? The fabled un-person of the Ultramarines?"<br/><br />
"Titus, this shall be your new team," Garro showed the table.<br/><br />
The Teal one began, "Good to see you. Name's Garviel Loken, Captain of the Tenth Company of the Sons of Horus. If Garro can be called the team's heart, then I guess you can call me the face."<br/><br />
"Macer Varren, World Eaters. Whatever happened, I don't care, so long as I can find a better use for my fury."<br/><br />
"Chaplain Asa'Marr of the Salamanders. I was sent by my Primarch to spread this message the moment he heard of it."<br/><br />
"Iah Sakhar, Cult Corvidae Librarius cohort. I wish to see more of this future."<br/><br />
"Sergeant Migisi, of what you once called the Eleventh Legion. We gather, and we seek answers."<br/><br />
"Warsmith Steigal, Fourty-First Grand Company."<br/><br />
"And I am Esyrol of the Word Bearers, here to guide us towards our Great Goal."<br />
<br />
Titus was still not very capable of understanding what was before him, but the bombardment of names of forces he was taught to hate had managed to snap as he realized, "You...you are all traitors!"<br />
<br />
"To be fair," the Thousand Son interjected, "None of us technically have betrayed the Imperium yet, and we are here to prove that it stays that way."<br/><br />
"And to be precise," the Chaplain added on, "The Salamanders were just as loyal to the Emperor as the Ultramarines during the Heresy."<br/><br />
"This whole alternate timeline business is a rather confusing thing, I must say," Garro concluded. "To find the entire Imperium being turned upside down because of this is even a bit disheartening."<br />
<br />
"And I am..." Titus tried to make some sort of stand. He tried to reach for a chainsword, but there was no longer one. A bolt pistol that no longer was holstered. Not even a knife was in his possession. "a faithful..." A step in any direction that could put him in an advantageous position. "son... of..." He prepared himself for some sort of charge, but the moment he lowered himself, he collapsed. "Terra, what am I doing...? I am no longer a Captain. I can no longer even be called an Ultramarine...!"<br />
<br />
"Does this mean that you are..." Migisi asked, "One of those Death-Watch Black-Shields I have heard of?"<br/><br />
"Hardly," The Chaplain responded. "A Blackshield would not have had his entire life so thoroughly obliterated. Besides, Salvarius is not Ordo Xenos. They are the only ones with full authority in the Deathwatch. I had a brother in the Reclusiam who served there."<br />
<br />
Titus was still in agony, realizing just how raw a wound that revelation left. He had tried to pay for it with every pint of blood he could find in the veins of the enemies as well as his own, but none of it made it go away. Courage and Honour were all that mattered to an Ultramarine, and now he had neither. His hearts felt strained, his eyes felt as if they were on fire. <br />
<br />
"Come now, brother," Garro seemed alarmed. "This may seem to be a troubling affair, but I do have a feeling that there is much more to this than just what befell you." Titus could only rise wordlessly and then join the others on the table, sitting between the Son of Thunder and the Word Bearer.<br />
<br />
"So what is the point of all this?" Warsmith Steigal asked. "If this is just a counseling group, then I have already wasted too much time."<br/><br />
"Ah, good of you to remind me," Garro noticed as he went to his seat. "The organization we are now part of was originally found by me in this timeline some hundred thousand years ago during the Horus Heresy. Apparently, we were organized by the great Malcador to... How did he put it...?"<br />
<br />
"The Knights-Errant was the organization ordered by Malcador the Sigilite in order to gather those Astartes of exceptional purity to become the forerunners of the Ordo Malleus' Chamber Militant and the Inquisition as a whole." Salvarius stepped in with dataslate in hand. "However, we cannot be them. No, your goal is something less...prophetic, I should say."<br/><br />
The World Eater was not so amused, "So we stay on prison-watch?"<br/><br />
"Hardly," Loken interrupted Varren.<br />
<br />
"Our mission," Garro clarified, "is more as ambassadors of goodwill. There are those of us who hail from legions which you seem to know as Traitor Legions. We are forming these Knights-Errant in order to show that we are loyal to the Imperium and that we are no traitors."<br />
<br />
"But then...why me?"<br/><br />
"Because you mirror the same story of our own, good Captain," Loken answered. "Rescued from the ruins of an utter warzone, outcast by your kin, it mirrors the story of old. However, the circumstances of your arrival are a lot less...lucid than I would think possible from Ultramarines of all folk."<br/><br />
"And if I am to be frank, good sir," Garro added, "I have a feeling of kinship with you. You do not act in vanity, but in mere duty, yes? Duty above Honour, if I were to use your terminology."<br/><br />
"You are aware of the many changes of the Imperium," Iah observed, turning to Titus. "The universe has changed much for most of us, and we need someone on the inside,who can inform us of the many new terrors the Imperium has come to face."<br/><br />
"And we are to do this...alone?" Titus was growing incredulous.<br/><br />
"We are not merely warriors," the Scout commented. "We are now diplomats, meant to show our finest to the citizens. Some of us will always be more valuable in war, but we will not solely be in that theater."<br />
<br />
Salvarius started up a projection on the center of the table, displaying the symbol of the Sigilite.<br/><br />
"Very well, if that is all sorted out, I do have a matter I believe that can be a worthwhile test-bed for your new-found force. The planet of Allentes has fallen under a suspicion of disloyalty to the Emperor. I will attempt to hold the situation in my hands as long as I can, but do beware that there may be some...unwelcome assistance that may be possible."<br/><br />
"More Ultramarine Showboaters?" Varren snarled.<br/><br />
"Stormtroopers?" Migisi asked.<br/><br />
"Sororitas." The answer seemed a little unusual to the members, but Esyrol was actually rather pleased at the news.<br/><br />
"Which Order?"<br />
"Order of the Eternal Icon."<br/><br />
The Word Bearer smiled. "They will be no trouble. We have journeyed with them before."<br/><br />
"Well that leaves one potential complication out of the way," the Inquisitor mused. "Regardless, you will be deployed by shuttle as to avoid rousing suspicions. While there, I do have some agents acting as my eyes and ears, so as to keep you appraised of the situation. Your goal is to find the cause of this change in faith and ensure that it ends."<br />
<br />
''>Allentes''<br />
<br />
The landing spot the shuttle chose left the team in an open expanse of the landing pad, largely apart from the city some distance away. At the location was an Arbite with a Rhino readied for them.<br/><br />
"I presume you lot are with the good Inquisitor Salvarius?" he asked. Loken and Garro confirmed this and they got transported over to the main city. Here, the new Knights-Errant picked a small den to formulate a strategy.<br />
<br />
"I will take Titus with me," Asa'Marr opened. "We will take the public route. Neither of our Legions have been placed under suspicion, not to mention the fact that the Captain looks like he needs some sort of normalcy."<br/><br />
"Stop coddling the weakling," Macer growled. "I can take to the pits. Maybe I can find something within the underworld."<br/><br />
"I am going to find any signals of the Sororitas," Esyrol mentioned.<br/><br />
Similarly, Steigal added, "And I will go see how the Mechanicus factor into this."<br/><br />
Migisi then grabbed a Cameleoline cloak that was laid out. "I will be taking with Captain Varren. Not for any mistrust, mind, but to ensure that I can be harder to see than a berserker." The World Eater snarled in his direction.<br/><br />
Iah sighed. "I suppose that leaves me then. I shall see how the Warp acts, and I will inform you from there."<br/><br />
Garro and Loken both agreed on this and the Knights-Errant began their journey.<br />
<br />
"So, Captain," The Chaplain tried to begin a conversation with Titus, "What...exactly happened that caused...well, what happened?"<br/><br />
"Graia happened." Titus tried to gather his will. "Orks attacked. I was sent there with a team to save the Guardsmen there, and then...Chaos."<br/><br />
"Chaos?" The Salamander was curious by that. "As in, you were tempted by them? I admit, that is a powerful thing to resist, but how does doing so-"<br/><br />
"Not their promises. Never would I dare." Titus almost sounded like he was mad, but he just did not. "But the leader there...I could resist his touch. Where my brothers fell, I was able to fight on. One of them claimed that such was grounds of heresy."<br/><br />
"Heresy? That's ludicrous!" The Chaplain remarked. "I admit, that would be more than unexpected, but how does a resistance to the warp equate to corruption? At most, that should have been a matter for the Librarians. There has to be something beyond this. What else?"<br/><br />
"A power source. Everyone wanted it. Drogan, the Orks, the Heretics...and I could break it so easily."<br/><br />
"Warp-based, I presume?" He nodded. "Figures."<br/><br />
"After I broke it, I found out that my brother had summoned the Inquisition upon me. I had to follow him or allow my entire company and Lieutenant Mira to be destroyed."<br/><br />
"And you placed their lives over your own, just for this to happen... This clearly is not just an action of your doing. And I know that it will change." The Rhino stopped. The two were at the Arbites Outpost.<br />
<br />
Titus and Asa'Marr met with Chief Intelligencer Karl Formaz. Formaz had primed them on the situation as far as legal matters were concerned: There was a powerful Apostate that was somehow influencing his will over the planet, but this town was the core of his operations.<br />
<br />
Normally, the Adeptus Arbites would have had all the authority they would need in order to storm the place and kill this traitor, but the problem was that he had influenced practically the entire populace. Any attacks would require them to wade through a horde of citizens and the Arbites have been undermanned. However, Adeptus Astartes were far more than mere arbitrators, and their position as the literal progeny of the Emperor would definitely give them leverage on getting even a few of these people back. The Intelligencer then handed them the address of the PDF base, the last organization that had been able to resist this faithless talker.<br />
<br />
"Why are you here?" Titus asked on the ride to the PDF base. "You are no traitor to the Emperor. So why?"<br/><br />
"Because this is an age where those borders of loyalist and traitor have become much...broader in recent years." The Chaplain removed his helmet, revealing the short buzzcut of graying hair upon his obsidian skin. "This is an age where Gods and men coexist and where there is finally a glimmer of hope that the Imperium can return to greatness."<br/><br />
"So optimistic...?"<br/><br />
"Would it be optimism when there literally has been proof of those gods walking? I was personally sent here by Vulkan himself for Terra's sake. There is no way you can mistake the very father to your legion!" Titus paused and cocked his head. "You mean...you had not heard of this? Not even the Primarchs coming to Terra to save her from a madman?" Titus nodded. "What a terrible time to have been in transit."<br/><br />
The former Ultramarine mused, "If...the Primarchs truly are back, do you think...?"<br/><br />
"I would think so," Asa'Marr responded. "They have made it more of a matter to restore some transparency to the Imperium, so I would be far from surprised if one of them decided to look into your case."<br/><br />
Titus paused for a while. "Thank you."<br/><br />
"I am merely a servant of the Emperor, as are we all. Faith is but my station."<br />
<br />
The PDF was stationed on the far side of the city, on the opposite side of the landing pad. Here, they were meeting with Colonel Phell, the head of the Allentan forces.<br />
<br />
"Lord Astartes, I am honoured by your presence!" The Colonel, a weedy man decorated in medals more suited for a man at least twice his size. "Colonel Phell, Commander of the Allentan PDF. I'm hoping you are here to deal with this Lord Shaytan business."<br/><br />
"Indeed we are," the Chaplain introduced his forces, "I am Chaplain Asa'Marr, and besides me is Captain Titus."<br/><br />
"An Ultramarine, of all things! We are truly blessed!" Titus was about to voice an objection on his former status before the Chaplain ordered him to let it be. "Ah, follow me, follow me. I can probably better inform you about the story in a better way than the Arbites can."<br />
<br />
Phell explained that this Shaytan was a very wealthy landowner who had come to control the importing trade. Anyone who wanted anything merely had to request it from the traders and they would satisfy it quickly. That in itself is little cause for alarm, but the issue was how much of the profit they took for themselves. Soon sire Shaytan claimed himself a tax-exempt citizen, exploiting a little-known legal loophole to keep the Arbites from enforcing anything on them. Following that, he became more ambitious: Not only was he delivering an exorbitant amount of imports, which he would then spread to those in his employ alone, but then rumours spread about a certain "Client Loyalty" program affording them amenities even the loftiest of positions could hardly afford. Soon enough, Shaytan gained a loyal army of customers, all following this one trader, and his work was completely legal from the outside. Even inside, there was no sight of impropriety, as there was an almost insane amount of transparency about the company's workings. That would be something that the Adeptus Astartes would be able to circumvent, by force if need be.<br />
<br />
As for the Sororitas, they would come within the next week to act as the military force, the Colonel himself having been a close friend to a powerful Prioress within the Order of the Eternal Icon who was very likely to take the position of Canoness as soon as she could. However, the two let the Word Bearer deal with that, for the Sororitas would apparently recognize him.<br />
<br />
As soon as they left the Colonel, Asa'Marr opened up a Vox link to Captain Garro.<br/><br />
"We have a story and a means to enter."<br/><br />
"Splendid show, brother." Garro remarked. "Where is our target supposed to be?"<br/><br />
"He owns the only importing business in the planet, and apparently has enough money to afford his own complex. The only people resisting against whatever he has offered were the PDF and the Arbites higher-ups."<br/><br />
"Well, that will do. Loken has started looking at this rather large complex where he found this gaggle of citizens just filing in, all bearing this sideways chevron on their breast."<br/><br />
"That might be it. We will be there to investigate." Titus snapped in.<br/><br />
"Ah, that would indeed help. Garro out."<br />
<br />
As they embarked on the Rhino, Asa'Marr remarked, "It seems that you have something to offer yet..."<br />
<br />
When they arrived, Garro started, "Good to see you. Loken is stationed at the chapel itself, listening in from one of the side-brushes, but there are guards that are being a bit too...suspicious."<br/><br />
"We do not kill them," Titus stated. "We still know too little about this matter. Killing them would draw too much attention on us and they would know who we are."<br/><br />
"Well said, but how will we..."<br/><br />
Titus grabbed a can rolling down the street. "Let me handle with that."<br />
<br />
He peered around the corner of their wall to find the entryway guarded by a couple of guards, looking rather weakly armoured and toting only stubbers. He threw the can right in front of their path, making a loud noise to attract their attention. They never saw the Astartes knock them out.<br />
Thus incapacitated, the three now had a clear route of access to join the Captain.<br/><br />
"Good to see you taking some initiative," Loken greeted them. "What do we know?"<br/><br />
"Whoever is leading this group is an affiliate of the Shaytan group," Asa'Marr filled the Captain in. "He effectively bought the populace's loyalty using his control of the import market, and in doing so is legally untouchable."<br/><br />
"Well, from what I can decipher, this man is doing equal parts sales pitching and preaching, so I can buy that."<br/><br />
Titus asked, "But what is their goal?"<br/><br />
"He was running something of an auction. There were goods on that table, and people were wagering. But there was also some promises of special...Packages, was it? Privileges and such."<br/><br />
"He is bartering their favour. Then this is merely a possible front like all the others the Arbites have. discovered"<br/><br />
"Seems we have our next course of action settled then," Garro commanded the group. "We wait for the place to empty out before we go investigate."<br />
<br />
The chapel eventually let out and the rabble of the city eventually dispersed among themselves. Among this crowd was also the four Astartes, keeping their heads low enough to maintain their cover. As soon as they made it in, they begun sneaking behind the pews, finding only a preacher there, finishing whatever goodbyes he made and preparing to leave. Titus peered over the edge to find the cardinal grabbing a knife, but not use it on himself. Soon enough he too left, and now the Knights-Errant could finally begin their investigations.<br />
<br />
Their first key target was the altar. Nothing too unusual, none of the symbolism too unnatural save for a particular preference for blue and gold. There was also the patterned skulls, covered in some unnatural runes. Titus did not feel comfortable.<br/><br />
"Would you happen to realize this?"<br/><br />
Titus stepped back. "I am only hoping that I may be wrong." However, this would only be one piece. There had to be more to this.<br />
<br />
They entered the left doorway to find the personal offices of a few pastors. None of them seemed to ring any bells, and they all seemed to hold a reverence of sorts to the Imperium. All, it seemed, except for the head cardinal. His room was more rife with strange arcane glyphs lined on his desk, most matching the ones on the altar. There was also a circular mat on the floor, usually covered by a chair for guests. This mad had no sigils, but what it did have was the same blue and gold colours. But perhaps the most unnatural artefact there was a skull of what looked to be an Eldar, crystallized and, upon looking at it from an angle, looking like it was screaming in agony. The four then began feeling around for a false wall when Titus found one at the back of the room, concealed by a banner confirming the church's fealty to the Emperor. This clearly was a front, and now they would figure out what it was.<br />
<br />
The chambers smelled dank with the stench of rotting meat and blood. As they walked, they felt the path taking a slide down. They stepped down to find something akin to a dungeon, but nobody present. The only things even different with the area were a pair of skeletons chained to the wall. At the far end of the room was a pile of rocks, almost a head taller than the Astartes.<br/><br />
While Loken and Asa'Marr investigated the skeletons, Garro began communicating with anyone he could while Titus began looking through the pile. There had to be something here, hidden among the rocks. He found something from that: A robe, much different than his normal robes and bearing a much darker coloration when compared to his ordinary robes. More unsettling was the mask that was found with it, a half-mask whose visage looked almost like... Titus shook his head. No, this mask could not possibly be the same. That person was dead. He looked again.<br/><br />
Loken managed to find a locking mechanism using one of the skeletons. Behind it was a book. <br />
"This book..." Loken commented as he felt around the hide-bound skin, "This book is far from normal." He noticed an eye on it, unblinking but definitely lifelike. There were also teeth lined along the lip of the book.<br/><br />
"We destroy it then. Better we staunch the flow of corruption from here." <br />
<br />
Garro was about to prepare his power sword for that when he dodged a las-shot by pure luck.<br/><br />
"I cannot let you do that." It was the Cardinal, and he had some new guards with him, eight in total. "That book is my guide. My willpower."<br/><br />
"What this book is is heresy." Garro lowered his sword. "We cannot let it corrupt any further."<br/><br />
Titus prepared his chainsword for battle. The Cardinal asked, "Why? Why would you do this to our order? We are giving them a life they desire, one outside of the government's feeble ability!"<br/><br />
"What you give them," Asa'Marr retorted, his single-handed hammer powered, "is corruption. You lie to these people, to subvert them to your slavery."<br />
"Then what of you?" the Cardinal asked. "Are you not slaves of the Emperor?"<br/><br />
"No. We are his sons. We were chosen to become far more than men."<br />
<br />
The Cardinal gave the order and the guards opened fire. Sadly, their choice in armament was in poor choice, for the lasguns merely bounced off of Titus' power armour as he tore through the guards.<br/><br />
"Your mark... You are the enemy...!" The Cardinal raised a sword. He tried to attack the Ultramarine, but before he could, the Chaplain leveled his head.<br/><br />
"Well," Loken commented as he disposed of the book. "if anyone here doubted the presence of heresy on this planet before, they will have none now."<br />
<br />
The four escaped and returned back to the safehouse where they first arrived and ordered everyone else to join them.<br />
<br />
"So, heresy. Like we did not know already," Varren grumbled, his own search having been largely fruitless.<br/><br />
"A sorcerer among them..." Iah surmised. "Whoever it is, they are still weak, but they are gaining a foothold."<br />
<br />
"What did you see?"<br/><br />
"A slowly-enveloping claw. Massive and hungry."<br/><br />
Garro kept with the reports. "We can tie that in later. Varren, Migisi?"<br/><br />
"The Underworld has just as much of it overrun by this Shaytan as the rest of the planet." The Scout filled in. "What disturbed me most though was the complete...serenity of the populace. No crimes to be seen, no ghettos run by homeless people. They were all merely...content."<br/><br />
"Considering he runs the planet, he probably has spread his Customer Loyalty program there as well. Steigal?"<br/><br />
"The Mechanicus have been supplying the Shaytan group with technology through legal means," the Warsmith droned. "Though he has bought some of the Magi's trust with the discovery of an STC on a powerful generator, the chief Magos has voiced his own suspicions. Any further proof would sway his opinion."<br/><br />
"The Sororitas are on their way here, due within the week," Esyrol began. "From what Astropathic messages I had access to, the Prioress in charge has had her eye on this Shaytan person for a while. She was also showing interest in a Colonel Phell."<br/><br />
"They were old comrades," Asa'Marr added in. "They went to the same branch of the Schola."<br/><br />
"Perhaps, but the way the messages ended seemed a touch too...personal, maybe."<br/><br />
"If that is everything," Loken reined the team in. "We have discovered the use of heretical items behind closed doors. Dark magic, and a tome."<br/><br />
Iah piped up. "What did it bear?"<br/><br />
"Teeth along the edge, an unblinking eye. Also, along the spine was this golden runic language. There was a half of a mask as well."<br/><br />
The Thousand Son nodded. "Not what I was thinking, then."<br/><br />
Garro noticed Titus' anticipation, "Titus, I see you have something to add to this affair."<br/><br />
"This whole case," Titus warily mentioned, "It bears the stench of an enemy I had thought dead and gone. I killed him personally on Graia." The team turned to him. "His name was [[Nemeroth]], and his face is nearly identical to that mask's."<br />
<br />
"A face mutilated like that? Seriously?" Varren mocked the idea.<br/><br />
"He was a powerful sorcerer. He was on Graia to find a...warp power source."<br/><br />
Asa'Marr started to gather the pieces. "The same power source that...?" Titus nodded. "It is coming together. He must have somehow noticed your powers and tried to persuade you."<br/><br />
"I could resist his warp-sorcery. He wanted to learn more bout it. When last I faced him, he was making a pact with his gods and he...changed..."<br />
"A...Daemon Prince?" Garro was surprised. "I say!"<br/><br />
"There is no way you, YOU of all people, could have killed a Daemon!" Varren added in with incredulity.<br/><br />
"I am not sure if it was my doing or if the source aided me," Titus concluded, "But whatever the case, he was killed."<br/><br />
Iah then commented, "But a daemon does not die as simply as you and I. You may have slain his body, but given the proper resources, he will return."<br/><br />
"Then we have our next objective: We ensure that this Nemeroth stays in the Warp with his foul gods." Loken took the lead, while Titus followed. "Worry not, brother. We will get to the bottom of this."<br />
<br />
The next task for the Knights-Errant was to seek out the main facility of Shaytan's imports. Whatever was in there, it had to tie into the matter of Nemeroth's coming.<br />
<br />
That night, the facility was empty. The Astartes had little difficulty sneaking in, incapacitating the guards and then allowing a crack squad of Adeptus Arbites to break in and start their own search for forbidden paraphernalia. They looked at the main storehouse, a massive tower as tall as it was wide.<br />
"So our answer might be here?"<br/><br />
"Just maybe," Garro started ordering the team to split up and begin their own search for any more blasphemous material tying to the Daemon Prince.<br />
<br />
Titus found himself teamed with Steigal in looking at the control arrays in the bottom level, taking a lift down.<br />
<br />
"I do not trust you and your sentiment." the Warsmith warned him.<br/><br />
"At least I hope this will not interfere with what we are doing."<br/><br />
"Unless you get in the way, no. There should be a servo-skull or some other scanning device that should be in the work-station downstairs. Either of those should be helpful for what I am planning." The lift stopped. "Do not try anything idiotic. Leave the dealing with me."<br/><br />
They stepped out to find the security room empty. Any closed-circuit feeds were running, but it was so late that the tech-workers here most likely left for home.<br/><br />
"We are in," the Iron Warrior intoned on his vox. He then turned to the door to the right of where they entered, pointing to the feeds. "Keep a watch. I do not want any surprises befalling any of these fools."<br />
<br />
It did not take long before Steigal returned, at his side a servo-skull with an auspex mounted in its mouth. "We leave. This skull has with it a pre-programmed map of the storage zone."<br />
<br />
True to his word, the Warsmith found a secret locked door, hidden by a stockpile of empty crates. However, when he could not open it either by hand or with his servo-arms, it rested with the Ultramarine to make the push. Titus wedged his chainsword in an opening the Warsmith made and began pushing. The combined might of two Astartes, as well as two servo-arms, managed to wrench the door open and behind it was...a bunch of armed guards, this time with lasguns and a grenade launcher.<br/><br />
"Thought there was someone snooping around when we heard that Cardinal Smerrin was reported missing..."<br/><br />
"Now put down the weapons," Titus began to reason. "We are here to find something of grave importance. If we do not find it soon-"<br/><br />
"A beatdown? Well, you found your place!" The troops lined their sights. "Open fire."<br />
<br />
In the distance, Titus was able to see a white sniper on the upper floors.<br/><br />
"A sniper? Get him!" The Guardsmen were foolish to focus on Migisi, though, as that left them open to assault by Titus' chainsword and Steigal's servo-arms. None of them were able to even stop the two.<br />
<br />
The last of the occupants of this facility was a beleaguered spy of the Inquisitor's, hoping to solve the case as best he could.<br/><br />
"Oh dear God-Emperor please don't kill me!"<br/><br />
"We have had enough killing," Titus extended his hand. "What we want now are answers. Has there been any reports of blasphemous rituals? Faith centering around a certain individual by the name Nemeroth?"<br/><br />
"You recognize that face?" The acolyte calmed down. He began leading them into the facility. "I was not sure what that was meant to be, but if it is a person, then that begins making sense. Is this Nemeroth..."<br/><br />
"Daemon."<br/><br />
"Oh... Oh my." The Acolyte led them to a holding cell where a small squad of arbitrators were locked up in order to silence their claims. As they broke out, the Acolyte then commented, "These people, they were locked in here to ensure that the law could not come to them. And if they're summoning a daemon of all things, then Terra knows what happens to those they decide to take away..." Unfortunately, there was nothing else in this hidden room, making it only a special prison and pool for sacrifices.<br />
<br />
"I think I found another secret of theirs!" The two heard Varren shout through his vox. "They seem to really like dying if this secret is that valuable!" <br/><br />
Steigal and Titus rushed over to find the World Eater cutting through another horde, this time wearing more unusual clothes. Some had masks with skulls on them, and others had armour marked with the eight-pointed star. They were guarding their own room, which did not have any prisoners, but what it did have was a stockpile of weapons, all looking made locally made. <br />
<br />
"A storage room for their militia then? Allow me to correct that," Steigal then took his time crushing the guards' weapons with his servo-arms while Varren and Titus continued to follow the Servo-Skull to the next location.<br />
<br />
This next hiding spot was in the break room, hidden under the tables and immovable so long as they were still there. By breaking them, Varren revealed that this chute led to another dungeon, filled with more dead prisoners. On the walls, engraved in the bricks was what looked like a message. "There be heretics here."<br />
"It has become clear to me that this detour was a complete waste of my time," Varren then climbed upward, using his chainaxe to give him some grip. Following him, Titus dug into the chute with his chainsword.<br/><br />
"Are you always this...impatient?" Titus asked as they climbed up.<br/><br />
"I am here because I seek to kill traitors. A scavenger hunt for a cult is practically a misuse of my given talents."<br/><br />
"And learning something more is out of the question?"<br/><br />
Varren stopped and glared at the Ultramarine. "Watch your mouth. You keep talking like that, and know that what happens next will be entirely your fault."<br />
<br />
The two then split up as Titus began looking for Esyrol and Asa'Marr, who were looking at another end to see where Shaytan himself might be hiding. He found the two preachers in what appeared to be the main entryway with a massive staircase in the back, between them a pile of beaten guards.<br/><br />
"Unable to stand that brute, are we?" the Word Bearer playfully asked. The three of them made for the grand staircase, taking the left side and beginning to systematically investigating each of these rooms.<br />
<br />
As they were on this route, Titus heard Loken through the vox: "Everyone, meet me at my location. I think...this is something big in our case. He has a big something planned here."<br/><br />
Titus was growing worried. What more could possibly be wrong besides a possibly returning Daemon Prince?<br />
<br />
When they arrived, everyone gathered saw a massive diary, gilded and bound in many locks.<br />
"This...oh no..." Iah uttered.<br/><br />
Loken asked, "You understand what this means?"<br/><br />
"I do. The Warp is twisting. He is breaking loose!"<br/><br />
Steigal then asked, "Where?"<br/><br />
Another sensing of the warp, and the psyker pointed. "I have a lock. Quickly, before it gets too unreadable!"<br/><br />
<br />
As they ran, Titus began remembering the events of Graia. He remembered the daemon that masqueraded as Inquisitor Drogan, the man who set him up. He remembered that Ork Warboss who refused to give up, even when bested by Nemeroth. But what made him hurt the most was the fact that Sidonus, a dear friend and comrade of his, paid the price of death for the mistakes Titus may have made that day.<br />
<br />
Never again, he resolved. Never again would he allow a battle-brother to die on his watch, so long as he had the strength to even move a finger. He no longer had anything to lose, so even if he were to die, it would be used to protect his team at all costs.<br />
<br />
"The power is strongest here, but...we lack a door." Varren quickly invalidated the Thousand Son's concern as he used his chainaxe to force a way through to the wall with brute force. As they pushed forth, they began noticing more distortions throughout the area. Fires of multiple hues began to burn while the pieces of tile that lined the floor began to lift off the floor and float in midair, suspended by strings. While the rest of the team began to find it hectic to avoid each of these powers, Titus was striding forward, the fires doing little to mar either his armour or his spirit. He had an iron resolve to see this through, and he would finish off Nemeroth if he had to, even at the cost of his life.<br />
<br />
They broke open the door to find a stocky man levitating, the many powers of the Warp swirling like a maelstrom around him. Lightning was striking around him in crackling blasts and a horrid howling filled the room as wind whipped around.<br />
<br />
The Knights-Errant buckled down, none of them even able to resist the blowing gusts. Sensing their time running out, Steigal then dug a servo-arm into the wall while he grabbed his Inferno Pistol. One precision shot reduced the sorcerer's torso into a flaming ruin, and from there the limbs began getting sucked in.<br />
Without a focus, the powers of the Warp began becoming more unstable, as the summoning circle that was being used was being twisted by the powers, lightning becoming more unstable. Seeing a book that looked like it served as a centering point for the summoned powers, but without a stable way out, the daemons within that rift, crying for release, were now clawing for a way out. Unprepared, the others were assaulted, unable to defend themselves without releasing their grips.<br />
<br />
This left only Titus.<br />
<br />
His purpose renewed, he started the arduous task of marching through the storm, despite the unbearable conditions that the storm brought about. Lightning struck at him, but he kept marching. Daemons clawed at him, cutting through his armour, but his willpower forced him onwards. The very wind pushed him back and for every foot it pushed him back, he stomped forward another two, his resolve forcing him further. When he finally reached the accursed tome, he grabbed his chainsword and deftly slammed it into the book, tearing it apart and ending the portal.<br />
<br />
That was not the end, however.<br />
<br />
"Ahhhhh," a voice whispered, unseen by anyone. "Titussssss, is that...you? It has been so long since our last battle..."<br/><br />
"Not long enough if I can help it..." Titus gritted his teeth.<br/><br />
"Is that...any way to treat an old friend, brother?"<br/><br />
"We were NOT brothers!" He declared as he gathered his strength. "I am not a heretic."<br/><br />
"And yet...what has befallen you? I heard that you and your chapter have been experiencing...difficulties around you..."<br/><br />
"Then so be it. An Astartes does not need their Chapter to defend their honour, only his own weapons."<br/><br />
"Then what have you, if your precious honour is gone?"<br/><br />
Titus looked to the new team he had with him, to Captain Garro and Captain Loken, who accepted him with no reservations, to Chaplain Asa'Marr, whose wisdom gave Titus the strength to grapple his own doubts, to Captain Varren, whose brute strength inspired him to fight as well. He had his answer.<br />
<br />
"Only a fool would claim that their honour would be lost like this. Even if I am no Ultramarine, I am an Adeptus Astartes, and I am the Emperor's Chosen. My honour lies in that before anything else."<br/><br />
The vile voice could only chuckle.<br/><br />
"How...amusing. Live on with that false sense of pride, Titus. I still own the souls of these people, and I will return one day." His voice began to fade. "Pray that you are prepared for that moment..."<br />
<br />
"I must say, I was expecting far worse..." The Death Guard commented as he investigated the now useless circle.<br/><br />
"It is for the best for these people." Iah had gained enough of a sense to stand back up properly. "The daemon is stuck in the Warp for now."<br />
<br />
The book was immediately obliterated and the entire complex levelled as it was confirmed that the summoner was actually the trader Shaytan. Although their leader was dead, the cult still offered resistance, the grip of Chaos too strong on them. In the coming days, the entire empire collapsed, but with the help of the Order of the Eternal Icon, the transition was less troublesome. The Sororitas took to restoring faith in the people, while the Arbites and the PDF were enforcing the law with a renewed zeal. In here, the Knights-Errant still had a role, hunting down the last vestiges of heresy from the planet and protecting their hard-earned victory against Nemeroth.<br />
<br />
Titus was called a hero for his bravery, being able to face down the blasphemous ritual and conquer it. Where he had thought his gift as some sort of curse, only assuaged by Inquisitor Thrax as a gift of the Emperor to battle the enemies of the Emperor. But to see his Brothers openly thank him for his gift instead of fear him like the Black Templars Thrax had as a retinue, that was what finally convinced Titus that he had something of worth to the Imperium.<br />
<br />
"Some trial by fire, eh?" Loken sat by the Ultramarine as they watched the PDF on a parade route. At the front was Colonel Phell, being held rather uncomfortably close by the Prioress of the Order of the Eternal Icon, which gave a rather amused laugh by Esyrol.<br/><br />
"It is...invigorating to have a purpose again." <br/><br />
Loken sighed. "We take that for granted way too often."<br />
<br />
They were watching the parade when he saw a particular woman within the PDF, hair hidden in a near ponytail under her helmet. Titus almost forgot for a moment, but he could not forget the Lieutenant he helped back on Graia. Suddenly, he realized something uncomfortable in his helmet. He then took it off, finally, after several hundred years of wearing it as penitence.<br />
<br />
He realized that he had begun growing a beard or faint gray. His hair was also far longer and more disheveled than how he remembered it.<br/><br />
Garro stepped in to realize Titus' appearance. "I say, Titus. You look like you need a good shave!"<br/><br />
He smiled. "We will have time to do that before we get deployed again...Captain."<br/><br />
The two captains smiled. Titus was here to stay as a Knight-Errant.<br />
<br />
Regardless of whether or not Titus may ever recover his history, he had a new history here.<br />
<br />
===The Case of the Tau Empire===<br />
====Prelude to Something Bigger====<br />
''>CHARON-CLASS ORDO XENOS LISTENING POST IN THE DAMOCLES GULF''<br />
<br />
Adept Cestus rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand, and glanced at the chronometer on the wall. Only twenty minutes left on his shift! A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought of the pretty blonde who served at the small station's cramped refectory. Maybe he would ask her to supper when her shift ended...<br />
A squawk of xenos gibberish through his earpiece made him wince, snapping him back to reality. He groaned as the Tau language rattled around his head, the xenos communications had been growing more and more strange lately, the usual clipped tones becoming more and more guttural. <br><br />
"Send 300 hundred units to Sa'cea. The warriors there will need the sacrifices to the Blood God."<br><br />
Cestus froze. His hand hovered over the panic button on his console, and then he pressed the "record" rune. The Tau voice continued speaking.<br><br />
"These sacrifices will swell the warhost. Tomorrow, the Ethereals will lead the sacrifices of the Factionalists. Praise the Ethereals, and Praise the Dark Gods!"<br> <br />
Cestus tore off his headset and punched the panic button.<br><br />
<br />
Inquisitor Trajan of the Ordo Xenos ducked under a somewhat ostentatious idol to the machine god and stepped into the cramped strategum. The man studying the holo-tank's projection saw him and waved him over:<br />
"Ah, Inquisitor, I'm glad to see-"<br />
"You may dispense with the pleasantries Captain. What do you want?"<br />
The Inquisitor's respirator hissed meaningfully as he glared at the station's captain. The captain swallowed, and gestured at the display in front of him.<br />
"Our adepts have been intercepting Tau service announcements and communicates. What they have discovered is worrying to say the least. He pressed a key, and the message recorded by Adept Cestus a day earlier echoed out of the holo-tank's speakers. As the message played, the captain glanced at the Inquisitor's face. It may have just been the dim light cast by the projection, but the inquisitor looked like he was turning white. When it finished, Trajan moved past the captain and began to press keys on the holo-tank.<br />
"Are these messages coming from all the Tau worlds?"<br />
The Captain nodded and reached past the Inquisitor to press a rune.<br />
"Yes my lord, except from the so-called Farsight Enclaves, only two Tau worlds are broadcasting communications similar to the old ones. He pointed at the display, <br />
"Of these two, one has been almost completely overrun by the corrupted Tau, and the other is under siege. It appears to be trying to evacuate its population to the Farsight Enclaves."<br />
"You said the Enclaves were still broadcasting normally."<br />
The Captain made a face,<br />
"Not exactly, my lord. Not a single communication, corrupt or otherwise has come from the Enclaves for months."<br />
The Inquisitor's respirator wheezed.<br />
"I need to take this to the Ordo." He turned to the captain. <br />
"I must depart as quickly as possible, tell me, what was the last ship that you detected heading for the Enclaves?"<br />
"An Imperial ship, sir. It was tagged with the Inquisitorial seal, so we didn't repor-"<br />
"How long ago was this?"<br />
<br />
"This morning milord. We assumed that it was one of your ships."<br />
The Inquisitor turned away and made for the door.<br />
"Tell your men to keep their ears open. I will need my ship ready to fly as soon as possible."<br />
<br />
====The Fate of O'Kais====<br />
The bones in Kais' hand creaked as O'Shaserra squeezed it. He grit his teeth and glanced at the lifesign monitor affixed to the plaster wall. Both the vital signs of his wife and soon-to-be-born son were strong, but a miscarriage wasn't what frightened Kais. Shadowsun roared as another contraction hit her, and a loud rumble from above seemed to answer. Kais leaned forwards over his wife and the surgeons attending to her, feeling dust and grit cascade onto his back as the ceiling shook. He wiped some of the sweat from his wife's face, her eyes blazed at him, as though this was his fault. I suppose- he thought distantly- it was. In a way. The sound of pulse fire from the doorway distracted him, and he looked around. The Shas'nel guarding the doorway was sending pulse rifle shots down the corridor. Kais heard unearthly screeches echo back, in between shots. He glanced at the pulse pistol lying on a steel tray, next to cobalt stained surgical tools. Another growl from Shadowsun brought his attention back to her. As far as he could tell, the labour was close to completion. As if on cue, one of the surgeons spoke up, trying to make himself heard over the sound of the battle outside. <br />
<br />
"Commander Shadowsun! You need to push NOW!" <br />
<br />
O'Shaserra let out a scream that nearly drowned out the sound of an Orca crashing outside. Kais screamed as well, feeling the bones in his hand come to the very edge of snapping as O'Shaserra crushed it with all her strength. <br />
Abruptly, the scream cut off, and O'Shaserra gasped, releasing Kais' mangled hand. Kais heard the shot that felled the doorway guard, and snatched up the pulse pistol just in time to put a shot through the helmet of the Fire Warrior at the door. As the blood-smeared warrior fell back, he threw off his comrade's shot, giving Kais enough time to lunge across the room and tackle him.<br />
<br />
Pinning the warrior down with his legs, Kais ripped the warrior's helmet off and gripped him around the throat. The warrior leered up at Kais, several of the hideous scars on his face still wet with blood. The corrupted warrior bucked his hips, nearly throwing Kais off. Kais punched him in the face, hard enough that it slammed the warrior's head into the rockerete floor with a CRACK. Kais refastened his hands around the warrior's throat and squeezed with all his might. The warrior gurgled, blue blood oozing out of his mouth. Kais bared his teeth, the roar filling his head, calling for him to spill blood, to take skulls, blood for the blood go-<br />
<br />
CRUNCH<br />
<br />
The warrior's windpipe collapsed under the weight of Kais rage. The Tau convulsed and vomited a cobalt gout into Kais face. The silence that followed was broken by the sound of an infant crying. The red mist lifted from Kais' mind and he stood up stiffly, blinking cobalt out his eyes. He turned to see the surgeons helping O'Shaserra into a mobility mech. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he saw another of the surgeons holding a squalling bundle in their arms. <br />
A shout from one of them snapped him out of his trance:<br />
<br />
"SHAS'O! THE TRANSPORT WILL NOT WAIT FOR US!"<br />
<br />
Kais waved an arm at the group,<br />
"GO!" He glanced at the shape crouched in the corner of the room. <br />
"I'll get you time."<br />
<br />
Kais wiped some of the blood off his face as the group hustled out of the door. At the threshold, O'Shaserra looked back. Kais smiled gently, and nodded to her. Another explosion, louder this time, rattled Kais' teeth as he watched his wife and son pass through the door. Part of him realised that he wouldn't see them again. He turned, and strode to the dust-covered shape in the corner of the bunker. He could still make out the kill markings he had carved into the iridium armour on Kronus, all those years ago.<br />
<br />
He touched a key on his wrist computer. Blue lights flickered across the form, and the battlesuit stood up, dust cascading off it's armour. It's chest cavity popped open, bathing Kais in blue light. He turned and stepped in, standing up inside the armour. His head fit into the helmet of the battlesuit, and eyes were flooded with telemetry data. He felt the chest close up, sealing him inside. He worked his hands into the gloves, flexing the armoured fingers. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the missile pods clack into position. Another green light flickered up on his HUD, and he heard the two drones disengage from their charging socket across the room. The gun drone floated high at his right shoulder sensors trained on the door, whilst a faint flicker around him heralded the shield drone hovering low at his left shoulder. Kais reached down and picked up the heavy flamer in his left hand, feeling it lock to the elbow of the armour. He did the same with his fusion blaster, the weapon thrumming faintly at his touch. He looked towards the door, turning up the sensitivity of his visor. There was a squad of pathfinders stacking up outside. Kais outline wavered for a second, then he and his adjutant drones vanished from sight.<br />
<br />
CLOAK ENGAGED<br />
<br />
The door blew open in a shower of sparks, and the pathfinders streamed inside. They snarled in their bastardised version of Kais' language.<br />
"Kais and his whore must have already gone." Several of them dashed to the other door, the one that O'Shaserra had gone through. One of the others took notice of the bloody operating table, and, (Kais noted with a muted sense of revulsion) the bucket containing what had been left from the delivery. The Pathfinder peered into the bucket and turned to his comrades. He called something that Kais didn't understand, and the others laughed. He completely failed to notice Kais stepping behind him. Kais tightened his grip on his weapons, and then kicked the Pathfinder as hard as he could.<br />
<br />
The corrupted Pathfinder flew across the room and smashed into the wall, leaving a stain as though a blueberry had been smashed against it. The other wheeled around, just in time to expose themselves to the enormous jet of flame from Kais' flamer. They clawed at themselves, flailing in all directions as they burned. Kais brushed past them, ducking under the doorway as he stepped out the way they had come, into the open air. The sky was choked with ash, and fire. What little of the loyalist forces that remained were now in full retreat, breaking beneath the onslaught of their corrupted brethren. The few Barracudas that could still fly were desperately trying to keep the enemy fighters off the various dropships and cargo freighters that were evacuating the last of the population. A warning tone from his shield drone brought Kais attention to a sniper drone attempting to line up a shot. A squeeze of the fusion blaster's trigger smashed it into pieces. His visor highlighted a pair of crisis suits flying towards him, before assigning each a targeting reticule. A double thump from the rocket pods heralded the launch of a pair of missiles that curled through the air and smacked the Battlesuits out of the sky. One exploded before it hit the ground, the other corkscrewed towards Kais and crashed into the dirt. It weakly tried to raise a weapon-limb, before a shot from the fusion lance carved through the pilot. <br />
A barrage of shots hit Kais in the back, enough making it through the shield to stagger him. He swiveled on one foot, and, seeing the squad of Fire Warriors that had shot him, turned the Shas'ui into pulp with a shot from the fusion blaster. A jetpack enhanced leap brought him close enough to the squad that his flamer turned half of them into walking pyres in an instant. The rest charged him, and Kais boosted up into the air as they closed in. He cut the thrust and landed on one with a satisfying CRUNCH.<br />
<br />
The others crowded in, beating on Kais with the butts of their rifles. The roar echoed through Kais' mind, as though it had never left. He smashed the fusion blaster down on one of the Shas'la, blue blood splashing his armour. <br />
<br />
BLOOD<br />
<br />
He dropped the flamer and grabbed a helmetless warrior by the head. Servos in his gauntlet squealed for a second, then the Fire warrior's head imploded under Kais' grip.<br />
<br />
SKULLS <br />
<br />
The last Shas'la turned to run, but was cut down by a burst of pulse fire from the gun drone. <br />
Behind him, he heard the sound of a dropship taking off. He turned to see the Orca he knew was carrying his wife and son. Images stormed through his mind, of blasting the ship out of the sky, of bathing in the blood of a thousand innocents. Kais thought of his wife's eyes as he had watched her leave. He thought of the tiny face he had glimpsed peering at him out of a bundle of rags. The roar receded, for now. As he watched the Orca climb into the sky, he saw something fall past it, and land about a hundred metres away from him. A huge plume of ash covered what it was, but there was no mistaking the missile that burst from the cloud and beelined for the Orca. Kais watched the missile's flight, and raised his fusion blaster. Only enough time for one shot... <br />
A blue lance smote the missile from the air. Kais lowered the blaster, feeling his heart palpitate as he watched the Orca lift through the ash clouds, and out of sight. He turned to see the dust cloud settle, revealing a massive Riptide battlesuit, its hull adorned with carvings and sigils that Kais almost recognised from a long time ago. The roar howled in his mind, demanding blood and skulls. The corrupted battlesuit towered over Kais, casting him in shadow.<br />
<br />
Kais calmly reached down and picked up his flamer, before snapping off a shot, blowing the Riptide's shield drone into pieces. The Riptide's answer blasted Kais off his feet, and sent both his drones spinning away, damaged beyond use. Kais picked himself up, studying the Riptide's weapons. An ion accelerator, a pair of plasma rifles, and the smart missile system. Kais blasted off again, punching the battlesuit's shields with his fusion blaster as he soared into the air. What he saw disheartened him, it would take a massive barrage to break through the shield, one bigger than what his stealthsuit could mount. He landed behind the Riptide, and sent a jet of flame at its back. The shield dappled and wobbled, but retained cohesion. The Riptide swiveled at the waist, and Kais dived for cover as a blast from the Plasma rifles leapt out at him. He landed on his feet and let loose a trio of missiles that exploded harmlessly on the Riptide's shields. The roar's impotent fury made Kais ears ring, and he pounded the shield with his fusion blaster. The shots that hit where the missiles had struck caused the shield to light up, brighter than before. Kais realised what he had to do. Once again, the roar had shown him the path. He disengaged the safety protocols on his battlesuit's weapons. Immediately, the fusion reactor began to bleep warnings at him, blue symbols demonstrating an imminent meltdown. Kais set his feet, digging his heels into the ash and lining up every single of his targeters on the same spot of the Riptide. He noticed the barrel of the the Ion accelerator pointing straight at him. The roar threatened to burst his head<br />
<br />
BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD<br />
<br />
"Yes"<br />
<br />
He fired.<br />
<br />
When the light and sound had faded, Kais saw the Riptide reeling back, sparks jetting from its mangled shield generator. Kais leapt forwards, the world slowing to a crawl, every iota of his being focussed on his enemy. One shot left in his Fusion Blaster. His visor saw the fantastic amount of heat coming from the Riptide's Nova Reactor. He lined up his last shot. For a moment, he remembered O'Shaserra's face when he had asked her to be his wife. He focussed on that, shutting out the battle, shutting out the roar. His wife gave him the strength to pull the trigger.<br />
<br />
<br />
Kais gasped. His lungs were on fire. His whole body was on fire. He looked into a sky choked with ash. He coughed up blood. His skin was charred and blistered. At some point, his helmet had come off. There was no sound except the wind and the melted rock cooling around him. The roar went on, echoing through his head, as though it were trying to burst out of him. Kais heard a footstep in the ash. A strange voice tutted.<br />
<br />
"Oh dear. What a mess you've made of everything."<br><br />
<br />
A horrifying bird's head loomed into Kais' fading vision.<br> <br />
"You pitiful, dull, little, creature."<br><br />
<br />
Kais spat blood into its face.<br><br />
"G-go to hell... Monster."<br><br />
<br />
The creature snarled, then spoke again.<br> <br />
"You have disrupted my plans too many times for it to still be funny, puppet of the blood god."<br />
<br />
Kais gasped the roar inside his head answered.<br><br />
"For this, and for the blood god's annoying persistence, you shall suffer the consequences."<br><br />
Then it spoke in a voice like a razor blade sliding down Kais' eyeball.<br><br />
"Your mind will fade. Your body will become dust. But you will Never. Ever. Die."<br><br />
Then it touched Kais' chest. And all of him became nothing at all.<br><br />
<br />
Upon a desolate battlefield lay a white battlesuit. It's surface bore no blemishes, and it's weapons lay besides it in the ash. After a long, long, time, Kais rolled to his feet. He wasn't breathing. He couldn't feel his heart beating. He couldn't feel himself against the inside of the armour. Gripped by sudden panic, he seized on of his gauntlets in one hand and tried to pull it off. It didn't move an inch. He pulled with all his might. Nothing. He was trapped inside his armour, unable to move, unable to breathe. He tried to hyperventilate, he couldn't feel his lungs drawing in air. He didn't feel a need to breathe. He took a step. The leg moved, but he did not feel his leg pressing against the inside of the armour. He thought of moving his leg, and his leg moved. <br />
<br />
"Am I cursed?" His voice came through the suit's external speakers, and he heard it as though it was coming through the suit. His vision was overlaid with the view from his visor, but he felt no need to blink. He could just stare, taking in the ruined landscape as no other living creature could. So he did. He stared at the desolation that surrounded him, wondering what he was going to do next. <br />
<br />
Kais struggled across the ashen wastes. Every two or three stumbling steps, he would fall, and have to coax his arms into pushing him back up. Unable to feel if his feet were touching the ground, Kais' vision was fixed on his armour's boots, trying to maintain his balance. His Plasma Rifle and Heavy Flamer were strapped to his back, the added weight not doing his balance any favours, but he was not leaving his weapons behind, not when he was in such a vulnerable state. He crested a ridge, pieces of obsidian crunching beneath his feet. Beyond him, sat a seemingly functional Manta dropship, much of it's hull covered by the ash that still fell from the skies. The rear hatch was closed, but thanks to Kais' still functioning command codes, it was trivial to enter. One of the aerials on Kais' helmet scraped against the roof, making him jump as the grinding sound echoed inside his helmet. The flat deckplate made walking somewhat easier, but even then, Kais nearly tripped at least twice. He squeezed his armoured bulk into the cockpit, from what he could tell, the dropship had been abandoned in a hurry, half the systems were still running. Luckily for Kais, the armoured fingers of his XV25 were dextrous enough that he could grasp the controls with ease. He hovered his hand over the controls for the engines, then carefully pressed the touch screen. The light touch left a smear of black ash on the console, but the microphones in his helmet picked up the sound of the engines lighting. Carefully as possible, Kais eased the craft out from under it's blanket of ash, and into the sky.<br />
<br />
As the manta left the planet's ruined atmosphere, Kais glanced out of the viewport. Burned out ships, and fragments of ships glittered in the sunlight. Judging by the amount of debris, it would be a long time before any orbital installations could be set up. That was not Kais's concern. What drew his attention was the Explorer Class that was orbiting at the edge of the debris field, protected by its deflector shields. Its hangar bays were open, and Kais guided the Manta in. As soon as the instruments registered a hard contact with the docking cradle, Kais left the cockpit. The Explorer classes were so old, most of their systems were AI controlled. Hopefully, he might be able to leave the system with it.<br />
<br />
Kais strode the empty halls of the ship, senses alert for the slightest sound. He had not found any traces of another living being, not so much as a bloodstain. He passed a mess hall, and glanced through the doorway. There were several half-eaten meals sitting on a table, the infrared vision mode of his visor showed that a bowl of soup was still reasonably warm. Kais carefully reached back and unhooked his heavy flamer, igniting the pilot lights with a flick of a switch. He turned the sensitivity of his visor up as far as it would go, and was struck by a feeling of vertigo as the deckplate beneath him was rendered transparent. He looked around, vision penetrating through dozens of decks. Nothing. Not even shipboard pests. For a second, Kais seriously considered returning to the Manta and seeking out another functioning ship. He shook the thought away, even if he found another ship, the chances of it still functioning were slim at best. Returning his vision to its normal settings, Kais continued, heading for the bridge. Rounding a corner, he spotted a turbolift. He jabbed the call button and was rewarded by a crunching sound as the button cracked. The doors opened before him, and he awkwardly worked himself into the interior. The extra height from his armour meant that he was forced to stoop to prevent the aerials on his helmet from scraping the roof. He pressed the key for the bridge, more carefully this time, and was rewarded by the lift shuddering beneath him. After a thankfully short time, the lift came to a halt and the doors slid open. Kais had expected some kind of reveal here, perhaps the bridge would be a blood-soaked abattoir, or a shrieking monster would leap for him. The bridge was empty, just like the rest of the ship. Somehow, that was worse. Kais worked his way around the bridge stations, stowing his flamer and searching for the helm controls.<br />
<br />
Kais carefully tapped commands into the control panel, shifting uncomfortably in the tiny seat. All the systems seemed to be working correctly, including the weapons and shields. Hopefully, he would never have to use them, but considering how his luck had been going, he decided to keep an eye on them anyway. He pulled up the map screen, and punched in the coordinates for the Enclave world of Salas'hei, the world that they had been evacuating for. Hopefully, Shadowsun should be there. Kais pressed the key that would engage the FTL drive. He was committed now. Nothing would stop him reaching his wife and son.<br />
<br />
====Farsight====<br />
A thunderous sound clapped over the battlefield.<br />
6 golliaths with single glowing eyes had descended from the sky, kicking up ash and dust from the ground, it shocked many of the corrupt followers of the Greater Good.<br />
<br />
"Fusion Blades on-line."<br />
<br />
"Onager Gauntlet on-line."<br />
<br />
"Airbursting Fragmentation Launcher on-line"<br />
<br />
"Flamers, ready to burn!"<br />
<br />
"Retro-thrusters, on-line."<br />
<br />
"...Dawn Blade...always on-line."<br />
<br />
And with a slash of a massive blade, the Six titans were revealed, Five Crisis suit, flanking a sixth, blade in hand...O'Shovah and his bodyguard had arrived on the battlefield.<br />
"Assist the evacuation, keep sharp."<br />
<br />
"For the Enclave O'Shovah."<br />
<br />
"No."<br />
The larger battlesuit turned to O'Shovah, O'Arra'Kon was confused.<br />
"For the Greater Good."<br />
<br />
Chaos forces kept coming, the five body guards held their line, fire reigned supreme as torchstar had opened up on their once brethren, torching the mad Tau, getting them out of their hiding spots, in the meanwhile, Farsight had been listening to the communications, they were trying to evacuate someone important...<br />
<br />
"Bzzt Comma- BZZZT -owSun ca- ZZZZT -ove her, sh- BZZZZZZZZZT -born child, she's BZZZT healing centre Ar, need rein- BZZZT!"<br />
Tracking the signal was no easy feat for the suits systems, but he found it, not too far from his position.<br />
<br />
"I shall be back Arra'kon, maintain position, keep the ships face."<br />
The Tau Commander blasted off before Arra'kon could protest, he sailed through the sky, ash passing over his optics, he did notice something however, the large blue ball of devastation as a Riptide exploded, was it their own? he hadn't a clue, he noticed a white suit, damaged, he ignored it for now, whatever happened, it would've indeed been a could battle.<br />
He turned his attention to his objective could see the healing centre.<br />
he began his descent, he saw the evac team holed up not far from it, taking heavy fire from the corrupt forces.<br />
A devilfish was over turned with a lot of wounded, some soldiers, some civilians.<br />
<br />
Shadowsun was not having a good day.<br />
<br />
She was lying behind an overturned devilfish, just haven given birth of all things, bleeding, in pain, the remnants of drugs in her system hardly able contain the pain she felt from her virtue.<br />
But she still had him, her child, her beloved child, she held him close he wailed and wailed, but she cooed to the child, what a way to come into the world, born into war.<br />
<br />
The fire team around her fired towards the healing centre the corrupted took cover in, sometimes sending a wave of mad kroot towards them.<br />
But she held onto him, her precious little one.<br />
"Be quiet little one, we will be away from this soon, be quiet."<br />
That's when HE arrived, very noisily, as always!<br />
The crimson red suit crashed on the opposite side of the devilfish, plasma rifle blazing.<br />
Soldiers were in awe, all didn't seem to be lost, but some were confused.<br />
<br />
"Is that O'Shovah?!"<br />
<br />
Her eyes shot open, away from her little one, O'Shovah?!<br />
She grabbed the dirt with her free hand, with her legs useless, she gritted her teeth, dragging her useless legs and her little one, she pulled herself from behind the cover of the Devilfish to witness this...it was true, it was O'Shovah...her face flashed to anger, how DARE HE!<br />
How dare he show his face here! as if it wasn't enough, he had DARED to steal glory from the Tau Empire and he DARED! prance about in that suit he stole!<br />
For all she cared he could swing that sword of his in his naked bare hands!<br />
She glared at the suit, knowing it was the only thing between them and getting off this planet.<br />
All seemed to quiet after he barked orders of concentrated fire, then cut through swaths of kroot, shooting down vespid.<br />
He turned to the forces he was leading, then his optics turned and focused...on her.<br />
A chill settled in her gut as he stomped over to her...which was replaced by the feeling of fire and rage.<br />
He dared.<br />
<br />
O'Shovah observed his ally, turned enemy, another student of Puretide, here, dragging herself along the ground and...was that, a child?<br />
Lights went up in his head.<br />
<br />
She had given birth.<br />
<br />
Farsight pitied the fool un-wise enough to make Shadowsun with child.<br />
He opened his suit, looking down at Shadowsun sternly.<br />
"Hello O'Shaserra."<br />
<br />
Shadowsun spat in his direction.<br />
"Die O'Shovah, you rat."<br />
<br />
Farsight smirked some at that comment.<br />
"You seem to be in a bad way."<br />
<br />
"No worse then when I shall rip your head from your shoulders."<br />
<br />
He chuckled at her threats, he had missed this banter.<br />
"But you see O'Shaseera, I am up here...and you are down there, with child, who was the unlucky one?"<br />
<br />
"Die, I have nothing more to say to you."<br />
Her eyes looked up in defiance to him.<br />
He shrugged off the comment as fire lit up his shield, the troops returning fire, he merely gestured his plasma rifle toward the windows, opening up more fire, as the windows soon turned into holes, his comms crackled to life.<br />
"O'Shovah this is O'Arra'kon, the ships are leaving, we need to go."<br />
<br />
Farsight eyes widened, he looked around, there were no evac team in sight to assist him in moving the troops, nor the debilitated Shadowsun, there wasn't enough room in the suit for her either...<br />
a tough decision had to be made, fast, then his eyes looked down to the small bundle she held onto for her dear life.<br />
"...O'Shaserra, give me the child."<br />
<br />
Her eyes widened.<br />
Give him what?<br />
Her eyes widened in surprise, in anger and most of all, in fear.<br />
Be separated from her child?<br />
HER child?<br />
No, she couldn't she wouldn't even if it were anyone else she would have doubts, second thoughts, with him...the traitor of the Tau Empire, a betrayer to the greater good and all its ideals!<br />
He thought she couldn't protect her child?<br />
<br />
"The ships are leaving O'Shaserra and I can't get you to safety."<br />
Synapses fired off in her head, the pain seemed to fade as she went cold.<br />
No, never, not she couldn't think it.<br />
But...<br />
If he could get her little one to safety.<br />
No, she would rather die...but, should he?<br />
Where was O'Kais? where was he?!<br />
<br />
"I can see if we can get a second wave, but right now we need to get as many as we can to safety, children included."<br />
Her tactile side of her mind told her to do it, the cold, thinking part of her brain, said to her that at least her child would live on.<br />
Her emotional side of her brain was crying out to never, ever think about it, that she could never trust anyone with the child, that she could never trust HIM with the child.<br />
<br />
"O'Shaserra...please...I promise you with my life that no harm will come to the child, not a scratch...I know that I'm a "traitor", but I would not be here if I did not care about the Empire, that includes you and that child!"<br />
<br />
She could feel his voice shake her to her core, even from distance away it had force.<br />
...she held out her child.<br />
"Take him, take him and get him to safety."<br />
Her voice, almost a whisper, so soft, so quiet like she didn't want it to escape her throat.<br />
Her whole being shook, telling her it was wrong, her heart had sank so deep, but her mind, her genius mind told her, she had to.<br />
She felt something slide down her face...tears? was she, crying?<br />
She didn't want to be seen crying in front of him, not just because he was an enemy, he was a rival, someone she had to be as strong as, she had to scrape up what little resolve she had.<br />
"Take him, that is an Order, O'Shovah!"<br />
<br />
He nooded Solemnly, his battle suit knelt as to let him out, quickly his boots hit the ground.<br />
He strode over to his former ally, taking the small bundle infront of him from her, the boy had immediately started wailing.<br />
"Do you have him?"<br />
<br />
Her strong eyes looked up and locked with his, he could feel the intensity of her gaze.<br />
"Yes."<br />
<br />
"Say the words."<br />
Her voice was demanding and strong, even now, crawling in the dirt, in pain, she commanded some authority that made him get the chills.<br />
<br />
"I have him."<br />
<br />
He responded reassuringly, she let go of the boy, he hold the little one firmly in his grasp.<br />
"Now run, run far, far away! It is what you are good at."<br />
There was a moment, despite all the history between them, despite eachother being enemies, despite this being a warzone, they shared a moment, a smile, as small as it is, almost a jeering among peers...yes, that was exactly what it was.<br />
<br />
"I'll be back for you."<br />
He felt fire light up, deep inside of his belly, a willingness, a drive.<br />
<br />
"Not before you get him out first, now go! I can hold these bastards off."<br />
Very shakily, the Tau Commander rose to her feet, how she could lift herself, he couldn't fathom, he could only hope that he could muster the strength she could in that situation...she looked at her child, stroking it's blue head<br />
"Good bye, little one."<br />
<br />
She stumbled to the men, barking orders in a firm tone, even though they told her she should NOT be standing, never mind fighting, she smacked the Shas'ui and told him to get her a stimulant and a rifle.<br />
Farsight climbed into his suit.<br />
<br />
"O'Shovah, O'Shovah, are you there!?"<br />
"I am en-route, do not worry."<br />
He adjusted himself in the suit and made sure the boy was secure, he closed the hatch...as it closed he looked toward his rival, her at him.<br />
"I'll be back."<br />
<br />
He declared in a strong voice...<br />
"No...you won't"<br />
She whispered to the wind before she returned to her troops.<br />
He took off away, heading towards the evacuation ships, the boy wailing the whole way.<br />
<br />
====The Corruption of T'au====<br />
''T'AU''<br />
<br />
Aun'ra, Supreme Ethereal and Master of the Tau pushed past his honour guard and sighted the one he had come here to see. Kor Phaeron, Keeper of the Faith and Emissary to the Mon'Tau. The Tau bowed to the towering Word Bearer, and felt the Emissary touch him on the shoulder. <br />
"Rise, Ethereal. We are all equal upon the eightfold path."<br />
<br />
Aun'ra nodded and motioned for the Word Bearer to follow him. <br />
"We have been following the Instructions in the Book of Lorgar, and we believe that we are ready for the final invocation."<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron smiled,<br />
"It sounds as though you don't need me, then."<br />
<br />
The Ethereal looked back nervously,<br />
"We, ah, thought it would be best for you to make the final invocation. Afterall, you have more experience with this kind of thing than any of us."<br />
<br />
The Word Bearer agreed, and they stepped into a wide chamber, what had been the throne room of the Empire. At the centre was the focus of the final invocation. <br />
Aun'va. The former Supreme Ethereal and master of the Undying Spirit was wrapped in barbed chains that sprouted from the ground and held him in place in the centre of the room. His eyes locked on Aun'ra and the Emissary. Aun'ra sneered:<br />
"Weak fool, the Gods have shown us power that you could never have imagined."<br />
<br />
Despite the chain holding his jaw shut, Aun'va spoke:<br />
"This is not power. This is madness. You have doomed the Tau."<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron laughed, the cruel sound echoing through the chamber. Aun'va's glare fixed on the Dark Cardinal.<br />
"And you. You are a slave to powers you think you control, and your time is coming."<br />
<br />
Phaeron's smile faded. He reached down to his belt, and drew a blade. It was so small it seemed almost comical in the Word Bearer's massive gauntlet, but all present knew that the Athame was so much more than just that.<br />
Aun'va glanced at it then looked back at the Word Bearer.<br />
"Silencing me won't change anything. You are dead men walking. All of you."<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron sank the blade into Aun'va's torso.<br />
The Final Invocation had begun.<br />
<br />
''THE FARSIGHT ENCLAVES''<br />
<br />
Like a cauldron brought to the boil, the warp around the Enclaves began to froth and churn. Psykers across the galaxy felt it. The space around the enclaves began to stretch and distort as reality was brought to the breaking point. Then it broke.<br />
<br />
O'Kais jumped as his ship began an emergency return to realspace, alarms screaming. In the Imperial Palace, Magnus the Red clutched his head, feeling as though nails were being shot into it. The Emperor stiffened as blood began to run out of his nose and ears, feeling reality itself being torn asunder. For a moment, a single warpstorm, bigger than anything the Tau had ever seen engulfed the Farsight Enclaves. <br />
<br />
Then it was gone. So were the Enclaves. <br />
<br />
Kais stared at his consoles, unable to believe what he was seeing. The Emperor staggered, barely able to think, whilst Magnus collapsed with a crash. On T'au, Kor Phaeron smiled. If everything were this easy, he would have the Emperor's soul in no time at all.<br />
<br />
Aboard his ship, Kais was frantically searching the communication channels for anything that would tell him what was going on. At last, he tuned in to a wideband transmission that was being bounced off every relay beacon from here to the Zone of Silence.<br />
<br />
"REJOICE BRETHREN, FOR THE GODS HAVE SMOTEN THE UNBELIEVERS! THE EMISSARY'S WORDS WERE TRUE, CHAOS IS THE TRUE PATH! THE EMISSARY WILL BE REMAINING ON T'AU, SO THAT ALL MAY HEAR THE WORD OF CHA-"<br />
<br />
Kais cut the frequency, and reached over to the navigation console again. With but a gesture, he changed the ship's destination to T'au. As the ship began to turn, and line itself up with the capital, Kais began to form a plan in his mind. He was going to find this Emissary. And he was going to make him return the Enclaves, or he would find himself meeting his gods a lot sooner than he intended.<br />
<br />
====Suicide Mission====<br />
<br />
''T'AU SPHERE OF INFLUENCE''<br />
<br />
The space-traffic control teams that kept watch over T'au were stretched to breaking point by the massive influx of Tau that were making pilgrimage to the Homeworld, in order to hear the Emissary speak. They were, however, surprised to see an Explorer class battleship revert to realspace at the edge of the planet's sphere of influence. The battleship increased velocity, heading for the planet. Many of the controllers shrugged it off, assuming that the crew were on leave and wanted to hear the Emissary, like many other elements of the Kor'vattra that had arrived at Tau in the past few days. Few among them noticed the ship did not transmit any messages to the orbitals, and instead continued to accelerate towards the planet. At last, one of the weary members of the air caste keyed his microphone:<br />
<br />
"Explorer, you are exceeding the speed limit for disembarking craft, reduce speed, or suffer the consequences, how copy, over?"<br />
<br />
Silence. The controller frowned,<br />
"If you do not reduce speed, you will be fired upon."<br />
<br />
Still nothing. The controller keyed up one of the Lar'shi classes that was guarding the orbitals.<br />
"Send a warning shot across the bow of that explorer." He watched the blue streak shoot from the nose of the Lar'shi and cross the void to narrowly miss the hull of the Explorer. He wasn't expecting what happened next: three railgun shots burst from the nose of the explorer and struck the Lar'shi amidships. There was an eye-searing flash as the ship's reactor went supercritical.<br />
<br />
As the controllers frantically scrambled to contact the other battleships guarding the planet, the Explorer accelerated even further, shooting past the furthest orbital. The defence orbitals and battleships began to fire, railgun and ion cannon shots splashing off the Explorer's shields as it bore onwards. The Explorer was firing back, swatting the defence ships out of its way with barrages of railgun fire. A Lar'shi was too slow at getting out of the way, and smashed off the battleship's flank, exploding in pieces. The explorer's shields failed, exposing its hull to the fire of the defence forces. Railgun shots tore gaping chunks out of it, but still it forged onwards, ramming ships out of its way with an increasingly mangled prow. The defence forces were hitting each other in their struggle to halt the battleship, which was, by now, little more than a mangled lump of metal shooting towards T'au at incredible speeds. Already, flames were licking at its edges as it hit the atmosphere. A long plume of disintegrating material trailed behind it as it screamed through the planet's atmosphere. Its sole occupant clung to the controls as the ship disintegrated around him, G-forces that would liquefy normal men proving harmless to a being with no body. The ship trembled as it the atmosphere tore it to pieces, but Kais gaze was fixed on his target: the Chamber of the Ethereals. He could see the massive crowd that had gathered to hear the Emissary speak. The roar in his head gloried at the thought of so much blood being spilt, but Kais hauled on the controls, dragging the nose up. A particularly large tremor rocked the ship as it plowed through a building, the ground racing up towards it. Kais unstrapped himself from his seat and stood up, the deck shaking and trembling beneath him. There was a massive lurch as the ship struck the ground, ploughing through the road and crowd alike, smashing buildings and defences aside.<br />
<br />
Kais leaned back, bringing his plasma rifle up. A single pulse smashed open the viewscreen, opening the bridge to the air and letting in the sound of screams and grinding metal. He saw, standing at a podium a tall figure in crimson armour. Kor Phaeron stared at the tide of glowing metal that was screaming towards him, unable to quite believe what he was seeing. The ground shook, and he struggled for balance, catching sight of a figure standing on the very tip of the metal shape. For a moment, he caught a glimpse of the figure's thoughts. <br />
<br />
Space Marines are said to know no fear. <br />
Kor Phaeron was no space marine. <br />
<br />
He turned and ran up the steps, into the building, terrified by what he could sense. He raced into the central chamber, taking in the figure of Aun'va, held at the very edge of death by the foul magiks of the Word Bearer. He was the nexus of the spell keeping the Enclaves submerged in the warp. Kor Phaeron couldn't even begin to imagine how the Tau piloting the battleship had learned this. There was a tremendous BOOM as the battleship plowed through the front of the building, shattering mosaics and statues that had been there for generations. The Dark Cardinal put himself between the advancing battleship and the nexus of the spell. At long last, the battleship ground to a halt, dust cascading from the roof of the building, its construction at the very edge of collapse. Kor Phaeron's grip tightened on his staff, the spiked head crackling with Eldritch power. The dust was whipped into a miniature tornado as the Tau descended from above, his jetpack slowing his descent. The green lenses of the Tau's helmet regarded the cardinal emotionlessly. The Word Bearer spoke first:<br />
"You've come a long way to die, Tau."<br />
<br />
"You are not the first to tell me that, Warp-spawn." replied the Tau, evenly<br />
He tilted his head slightly, looking around the Master of the faith, and at Aun'va.<br />
"Is that what is keeping the Enclaves hidden?"<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron stared at the Tau for a moment, then burst out laughing:<br />
"You mean, you didn't know!? You came all this way, and you didn't know!?"<br />
<br />
O'Kais was unmoved by the word bearer's mirth.<br />
"Now I know, and the purpose of this exchange is over."<br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron heard a whisper in the warp, and only just managed to block the plasma rifle shot with his staff. Kais set his feet, and fired a trio of rockets at the cardinal. One missed, exploding in a shower of marble chips at the Word Bearer's feet. The second was swatted out of the air by the spiked end of Kor Phaeron's staff. The third hit the man in the chest, and the explosion hurled him backwards, past the figure of Aun'va. Phaeron landed heavily, but sprang back to his feet, and extended a hand, doombolts springing towards the Tau. To the cardinal's shock, the bolts missed the Tau completely, almost as if they were magnetically repelled from it.<br />
<br />
Kais flinched as the glowing purple bolts shot past him, detonating with flat bangs behind him. His grip tightened on the handle of his plasma gun, and he fired it again. The blast struck Kor Phaeron in the left pauldron, blowing it off, but failing to injure the Word Bearer. The Dark Cardinal grinned, and a bolt of lightning shot from his outstretched hand, striking Kais' knee joint and knocking the Tau over. Kais rolled onto his back, rage thrumming through him at the underhanded tricks of the sorcerer. He took hold of his rage, holding it until his limbs quaked with fury. His plasma rifle trembled as he brought it up, purplish light crackling around the muzzle. Kor Phaeron stared in astonishment, he could feel the power of the warp radiating from this creature, but surely such a thing was impossib- his thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt as the Tau fired.<br />
<br />
A crimson beam lanced from the Tau's weapon and struck the Word Bearer in the chest shattering his chestplate, and sending him head-over heels. His head struck the ground, and for a moment, he thought he was seeing Gulliman ripping out his heart again. Kais regained his feet, paying no heed to the world bearer, lying in an expanding pool of black blood. He focussed on Aun'va, seeing the obsidian dagger sticking out of the Ethereal's chest. Aun'va looked into Kais' helmet, and mouthed the only words he could think of:<br />
"End it." <br />
<br />
Kais nodded, and brought up his plasma rifle. Behind him, Kor Phaeron, struggling to breathe through punctured lungs, saw what the Tau was about to do. He tried to shout, tried to cast a spell... but the ensorceled plasma bolt had severed his spine, and no amount of chaotic power could transcend that. <br />
<br />
Kais fired at Aun'va. The plasma round hit the atheme first, shattering it into pieces. Then it continued to the Ethereal. For a moment, Aun'va lit up, glowing, as the chaotic energies flowing through him backed up. Then he burst into a cloud of dust, and was gone. <br />
<br />
On the other side of the empire, the massive warp storm re-appeared, then faded again. But this time, the stars of the Farsight Enclaves were there, as though they had never left. <br />
<br />
Kor Phaeron felt this, and hissed faintly, before black blood flooded his mouth. Kais turned, and looked at the Word Bearer, weakly coughing up blood. He walked over to the Cardinal and looked down, into the scarred face. He stamped on it, black blood coating his white armour. He stamped again, rage filling him as he stamped again and again, cracking the paving stones with his fury. After a while, Kais realised that he was just pounding shards of bone into the floor, so he stopped. A final breath bubbled out of the word bearer's ruined trachea as the Tau strode away, leaving black footprints on the white marble floor.<br />
<br />
Now, he was going to find his wife. And the dark gods help whomsoever tried to stop him.<br />
<br />
<br />
=Links=<br />
<br />
*Archive of first thread:http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/30718552/<br />
<br />
*Archive of the second thread:http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/30789099/ - http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/30789099/<br />
<br />
*Archive of the third thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/30851860/- https://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/30851860/<br />
<br />
*Archive of the fourth thread:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/30894565/<br />
<br />
*Archive of the fifth thread:http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/30958863/ -http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/30958863/<br />
<br />
*6th:https://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31018873/<br />
<br />
*7th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31087598/<br />
<br />
*8th:https://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31140309/<br />
<br />
*9th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31158123/<br />
<br />
*10th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31227459/<br />
<br />
*11th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31309156/<br />
<br />
*12th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31428292/<br />
<br />
*13th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31505557/<br />
<br />
*14th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31588659/<br />
<br />
*1st 15th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31649760/<br />
<br />
*2nd 15th:http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31662684/<br />
<br />
*16th (If any other interested writerswish, Skype stuff is here): http://archive.foolz.us/tg/thread/31790234<br />
<br />
*17th: https://archive.4plebs.org/tg/thread/31894756/<br />
<br />
*18th (The Inquisitorially sanctioned one):https://archive.4plebs.org/tg/thread/31974143/<br />
<br />
*WIP Rules for the Returning Legions forDeathwatch:http://www.mediafire.com/view/op2jhul1i836bs2/Primarchs_Return_DeathWatch.pdf<br />
<br />
*WIP Character Stats by{{Anonymous|Friendly Anon}}:https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XVSRIbtow7rI9_L9ZBDTWft7YNqEHcvtC8jDLUCDyUI/edit<br />
<br />
*WIP Character Stats by {{Anonymous|CryptekSzerasp}}:https://docs.google.com/document/d/1TE7a9uS0lbckq4zzVRcJGnEdcr-DU5YkHMiH5gRO_sU/edit<br />
<br />
[[Category: Stories/Warhammer 40,000]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Story:The_Shape_Of_The_Nightmare_To_Come_50k_section02&diff=595644Story:The Shape Of The Nightmare To Come 50k section022014-05-27T05:54:59Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Section 02: The Situation in the East: The Tau Empire */</p>
<hr />
<div>[[Image:The_shape_of_the_nightmare_to_come_MYOC_BANNER.png|800px]]<br />
<br />
=Section 02: The Situation in the East: The Tau Empire=<br />
The Eastern fringe. Ever a realm barely touched by Imperial influence, initially it was the least effected by the fall of the Imperium (except that, no petty Imperiums ever formed from the ashes of Imperial rule in the eastern fringe). The area merely became marginally more anarchic and barbarous. However, the devastation of Kraken, and later hive fleet Talos, ravaged the fringe horrendously. Soon after, the next wave of Ork/Tyranid hybrids surged from the west, murdering thousands of worlds. A hundred dozen civilisations were wiped out, and when the various hordes of monsters left, the fringe was utterly fragmented, and countless worlds were left as nothing but rocks.<br><br>Of course, as with most genocides and disasters, history and life did not disappear. Some races, even empires, managed to evade destruction, either through guile, luck or sheer blood-mindedness. The Largest of the surviving Empires was the Tau Empire. In fact, because the Tau did not rely upon the <nowiki>'</nowiki>deep<nowiki>'</nowiki> Warp for travel, the crippling warp storms throughout the galaxy did little to hamper them. With little opposition, the Tau embarked upon multiple expansions, on multiple fronts. Their optimism and hope seemed frankly surreal to the crippled, dying civilisations around them. However, this idealism and hope soon faded, just like everyone else<nowiki>'</nowiki>s. Everywhere they tried to bring into the greater Good were dead. The Tau expanded into their inheritance. They were, however, inheriting the universe of ash. Ash and cold misery.<br><br>Sometime around M43, during the eighteenth and nineteenth sphere expansions, Tau policy began to subtly change. The Ethereals no longer recommended offering civilisations the chance to join the greater good. It was decided, at the Aun Council of 234. M43 (presided over by Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Va himself), that the other races of the galaxy were hopelessly barbarous. The other races allowed their worlds to die, they made war with each other, even when in the wake of such an atrocity, unity would be the best option. In short, they must be forced into submission, and their people ruled over by the only beings capable of logical, spiritual thought: the Ethereals.<br><br>By 003. M44, a dozen decades into the hundredth sphere expansion, the Tau Empire stretched from the dead worlds of Ichar, to the barren howling worlds. In total, it spanned roughly two dozen sectors, and comprised just over a thousand worlds. Perhaps 55% of these worlds were dead, and in the slow, agonising process of Terraforming (involving constant bombardments with bio engineered-algae and various Pechoid plant accelerants , which nonetheless took millennia to make worlds fully habitable). The Tau had become slightly more pro-Tau, and anti-xenos during this period. For instance, client races were forbidden from electing leaders of the various Sept systems, and were confined to the poorest locations upon worlds. This was a Tau Empire, and the Tau wanted everyone to understand this. The other races were inferior, as they had ruined paradise with their wars.<br><br>Communication was slow, but regular in this expanded Tau Empire. Without astropaths, they relied on the billions of communication drones and messenger boats, which pulsed near constantly between Septs, only leaving the <nowiki>'</nowiki>shallow<nowiki>'</nowiki> warp when delivering messages. Tau technology advanced along with its borders. Their ships were more heavily armed and protected than ever before. Limited cloning nad genetic technology allowed greater medical care, with each Tau having access to multiple cloned blood samples, limbs, and even eyes. Drone technology gained greater and greater sophistication, and the first entirely drone-controlled battle computer was released in 103. M44. Pulse weaponry became more reliable and effective, and gunships and battle suits of unprecedented quality were invented during this period. In the Segmentum Tempestus, the Tau are the central power<br><br>Yet, for all it<nowiki>'</nowiki>s unity and promise, the Tau empire could not maintain a completely centralised Empire, despite their best efforts. Space was too vast, and their vessels too slow. Some Septs were barely visited by the central authorities, while others had vast Aun control set upon them. However, most continued to follow the Greater Good according to Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Va and the orthodox council of the Ethereals. There were, however, two major exceptions.<br><br>The Enclaves, Tau colonies cut off from the Empire by warp anomalies in late M41, became all the more isolated from the Tau in the 42nd millennium, as the anomaly became a raging warp storm. It was not until M43, that news of the enclaves was heard, and the enclaves had changed markedly. Without the Ethereals, the enclaves became a realm dominated by the fire caste. The greater good, as a concept, had been rejected by these Tau. Only grim resolve and a strong arm allowed survival in a hostile galaxy. The caste system was virtually abolished, and inter-caste inter mingling was not outlawed. Only the fire caste, the new military elite, remained aloof of caste interbreeding. However, though not enforced, the caste system remained in spirit, as each caste intrinsically distrusted the other. Even more strangely, the farsight enclaves now operated under a sort of decentralised vassal system. Territories upon Enclave worlds were carved up between the new high caste-within-a-caste, the Shas<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kasar. Each of these powerful warlords had acquired battle suits, and each of these Kasar maintained their own little fiefdom. They maintained many fire caste soldiers as their vassals. Each of these fiefs sheltered other caste members, on the assumption they would provide a tax to their lords, in exchange for protection. The Shas<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kasar, in turn owed allegiance to the Shas<nowiki>'</nowiki>O<nowiki>'</nowiki>Shovah<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kasar, the overall grand Kasar of the enclaves. For many centuries this rank was held by Farsight himself. However, after his death, this rank passed to his sons, and became, in effect, hereditary (though, through the centuries, the position of Grand Kasar has been disputed, and the line of succession is a tangled web, far too complex to go into here). Upon the passing of a grand Kasar, the ceremonial armour of Farsight is granted to them, and they are anointed Grand Kasar, by kissing the hilt of the Dawnblade, the symbol of Enclave liberty (a blade no longer drawn by Enclave Tau, but instead enshrined within Farsight<nowiki>'</nowiki>s tomb upon the world of Fio-Mon<nowiki>'</nowiki>Tarra.<br><br>To survive, the Enclaves abandoned the concept of refining their technology. Instead, they relied on trade between rival empires and between merchants and the like. Thus, the Enclaves became a melting pot of differing technologies, all utilised by the Kasar in order to survive. Though not as technologically advanced as their Tau neighbours, the Enclaves have large numbers of fire caste warriors, and a willingness to use other races<nowiki>'</nowiki> equipment should the need arise. For instance, there are several occasions where enclave troopers have been seen wielding lasguns, carapace armour, Daconial nano-crystalline armour, digital weapons, or other such gear, in conjunction with Tau technology, in some strange hybridisation of technologies. So far, it has kept them relatively powerful, and resistant to sporadic Tau Empire assaults.<br><br>The second subversive element came into being much later. By M43, the Empire was in full expansive operations. However, it took several centuries until the process of colonisation and organisation of water caste administration could be implemented fully on every Sept world and system. One such neglected Sept colony was one of the furthest a field. Located on the northern border of Tau expansion across the fringe, To<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kaan sept was colonised late on. Though a verdant world, the Aun could only spare a single exploration fleet to colonise and inhabit . To bolster numbers in the colonial army, many Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa auxiliary troops were utilised. To<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kaan was subdued by this combined force, though the battle was difficult, due to the fanatical resolve of the native warrior Hu<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta, a human tribal culture that made excellent use of captured Tau equipment during the year long invasion. Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kais, the commanding ethereal on the expedition, was so impressed with the Hu<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta<nowiki>'</nowiki>s abilities, he offered them roles within the occupying Tau force. Though the Tau fire caste were sceptical of these uncultured warriors, the Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa took to them very well, instructing them on the philosophies of the greater Good, and training them in the use of Tau equipment (even though the Hu<nowiki>'</nowiki>sta had utilised much of the Tau equipment already, during the war). In turn, the HU<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta explained how they worshipped the great white serpent, and also taught the Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa some of their ambush techniques and unique battle tactics.&nbsp;<br><br>As the colony became less and less visited by the Tau central authority, Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kais became more and more reliant upon his various Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa subjects to fend off threats to his colony<nowiki>'</nowiki>s security. Though the expedition was well staffed by Water, Earth and Air Caste, the Fire Caste sent had been a smaller umber to begin with. The wars against the Hu<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta depleted them further, and over the centuries, the fire warriors became less and less viable as a firing force, as their numbers weren ot being replaced as well as their Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa-He<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta allies could. The Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>O of the He<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta contingent, Baldan Rar, got closer to Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kais than any other commander. The two often consulted one another upon tactics and strategies. Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kais would often got advice from Baldan on how to keep the majority-human population of the Sept colony appeased, and in turn, Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kais would entrust more and more duties. The Hu<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta converted to the philosophy of the greater good rather well, incorporating their serpent god into the myriad meanings of the greater good.<br><br>Upon the death of Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kais, a dispute broke out amidst the remaining subordinate Ethereals. Several of them recommended them selves for the role of Overall colonial leader. There was an important distinction between the two main groups that built up amongst the Ethereals. There were the Traditionalists, who argued that, upon becoming supreme Sept Aun, that the Fire Caste should be put in overall command of defence once more. The other group were pro-Gue groups, who believed the Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa had been doing a perfectly fine job of defending the realm. In the end, through honour duels, personal and public elections, and outright intrigue, the pro-Gue groups got their wish, and Baldan remained overall military commander. Oddly for the traditionalists, Baldan<nowiki>'</nowiki>s supporters were not just from the Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa and the general Gue population, but also from the majority of the Earth and Water Castes also. The successor to the Aunship of the Sept fell to Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>J<nowiki>'</nowiki>Karra. As it would transpire, this ethereal was rather weak as a leader, and was virtually a puppet for Baldan and his successors.<br><br>By the time more regular contact had been established by the Tau empire with To<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kaan, in 335.M46, it was barely recognisable as a tau sept world. Humans and Tau were almost equals, with the Tau filling in most non-military roles, while the militant <nowiki>'</nowiki>Gue Caste<nowiki>'</nowiki> sat on the council of castes, and fought at the fore front of most assaults, with the only fire caste remaining piloting the battle suits mostly (due tot heu unique designs of the battle suits, tailored ast hey were, for Tau alone). Chief Commander Moonheart of the Tau Imperial forces, even requested permission to invade To<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kaan, and <nowiki>'</nowiki>cleanse<nowiki>'</nowiki> it of its perceived subversion of the greater good. Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Va however, vetoed this plan, and decided to instead recognise the right of To<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kaan, the nick-named <nowiki>'</nowiki>human colony<nowiki>'</nowiki>, as being part of the Empire. This was mainly because the Hu<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta had so completely converted to the greater good, only their brutal tribal clubs (wielded n battle by every Hu<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa) remained of their old culture. The Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>vesa contingent were there to stay, and would evntually become a key ally in the long war against the Thexian elite and their allies(which will be documented at a later date).<br />
{{Template:TheShapeOfTheNightmareToCome}}</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Story:The_Shape_Of_The_Nightmare_To_Come_50k_section02&diff=595643Story:The Shape Of The Nightmare To Come 50k section022014-05-27T05:54:35Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Section 02: The Situation in the East: The Tau Empire */</p>
<hr />
<div>[[Image:The_shape_of_the_nightmare_to_come_MYOC_BANNER.png|800px]]<br />
<br />
=Section 02: The Situation in the East: The Tau Empire=<br />
The Eastern fringe. Ever a realm barely touched by Imperial influence, initially it was the least effected by the fall of the Imperium (except that, no petty Imperiums ever formed from the ashes of Imperial rule in the eastern fringe). The area merely became marginally more anarchic and barbarous. However, the devastation of Kraken, and later hive fleet Talos, ravaged the fringe horrendously. Soon after, the next wave of Ork/Tyranid hybrids surged from the west, murdering thousands of worlds. A hundred dozen civilisations were wiped out, and when the various hordes of monsters left, the fringe was utterly fragmented, and countless worlds were left as nothing but rocks.<br><br>Of course, as with most genocides and disasters, history and life did not disappear. Some races, even empires, managed to evade destruction, either through guile, luck or sheer blood-mindedness. The Largest of the surviving Empires was the Tau Empire. In fact, because the Tau did not rely upon the <nowiki>'</nowiki>deep<nowiki>'</nowiki> Warp for travel, the crippling warp storms throughout the galaxy did little to hamper them. With little opposition, the Tau embarked upon multiple expansions, on multiple fronts. Their optimism and hope seemed frankly surreal to the crippled, dying civilisations around them. However, this idealism and hope soon faded, just like everyone else<nowiki>'</nowiki>s. Everywhere they tried to bring into the greater Good were dead. The Tau expanded into their inheritance. They were, however, inheriting the universe of ash. Ash and cold misery.<br><br>Sometime around M43, during the eighteenth and nineteenth sphere expansions, Tau policy began to subtly change. The Ethereals no longer recommended offering civilisations the chance to join the greater good. It was decided, at the Aun Council of 234. M43 (presided over by Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Va himself), that the other races of the galaxy were hopelessly barbarous. The other races allowed their worlds to die, they made war with each other, even when in the wake of such an atrocity, unity would be the best option. In short, they must be forced into submission, and their people ruled over by the only beings capable of logical, spiritual thought: the Ethereals.<br><br>By 003. M44, a dozen decades into the hundredth sphere expansion, the Tau Empire stretched from the dead worlds of Ichar, to the barren howling worlds. In total, it spanned roughly two dozen sectors, and comprised just over a thousand worlds. Perhaps 55% of these worlds were dead, and in the slow, agonising process of Terraforming (involving constant bombardments with bio engineered-algae and various Pechoid plant accelerants , which nonetheless took millennia to make worlds fully habitable). The Tau had become slightly more pro-Tau, and anti-xenos during this period. For instance, client races were forbidden from electing leaders of the various Sept systems, and were confined to the poorest locations upon worlds. This was a Tau Empire, and the Tau wanted everyone to understand this. The other races were inferior, as they had ruined paradise with their wars.<br><br>Communication was slow, but regular in this expanded Tau Empire. Without astropaths, they relied on the billions of communication drones and messenger boats, which pulsed near constantly between Septs, only leaving the <nowiki>'</nowiki>shallow<nowiki>'</nowiki> warp when delivering messages. Tau technology advanced along with its borders. Their ships were more heavily armed and protected than ever before. Limited cloning nad genetic technology allowed greater medical care, with each Tau having access to multiple cloned blood samples, limbs, and even eyes. Drone technology gained greater and greater sophistication, and the first entirely drone-controlled battle computer was released in 103. M44. Pulse weaponry became more reliable and effective, and gunships and battle suits of unprecedented quality were invented during this period. In the Segmentum Tempestus, the Tau are the central power<br><br>Yet, for all it<nowiki>'</nowiki>s unity and promise, the Tau empire could not maintain a completely centralised Empire, despite their best efforts. Space was too vast, and their vessels too slow. Some Septs were barely visited by the central authorities, while others had vast Aun control set upon them. However, most continued to follow the Greater Good according to Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Va and the orthodox council of the Ethereals. There were, however, two major exceptions.<br><br>The Enclaves, Tau colonies cut off from the Empire by warp anomalies in late M41, became all the more isolated from the Tau in the 42nd millennium, as the anomaly became a raging warp storm. It was not until M43, that news of the enclaves was heard, and the enclaves had changed markedly. Without the Ethereals, the enclaves became a realm dominated by the fire caste. The greater good, as a concept, had been rejected by these Tau. Only grim resolve and a strong arm allowed survival in a hostile galaxy. The caste system was virtually abolished, and inter-caste inter mingling was not outlawed. Only the fire caste, the new military elite, remained aloof of caste interbreeding. However, though not enforced, the caste system remained in spirit, as each caste intrinsically distrusted the other. Even more strangely, the farsight enclaves now operated under a sort of decentralised vassal system. Territories upon Enclave worlds were carved up between the new high caste-within-a-caste, the Shas<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kasar. Each of these powerful warlords had acquired battle suits, and each of these Kasar maintained their own little fiefdom. They maintained many fire caste soldiers as their vassals. Each of these fiefs sheltered other caste members, on the assumption they would provide a tax to their lords, in exchange for protection. The Shas<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kasar, in turn owed allegiance to the Shas<nowiki>'</nowiki>O<nowiki>'</nowiki>Shovah<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kasar, the overall grand Kasar of the enclaves. For many centuries this rank was held by Farsight himself. However, after his death, this rank passed to his sons, and became, in effect, hereditary (though, through the centuries, the position of Grand Kasar has been disputed, and the line of succession is a tangled web, far too complex to go into here). Upon the passing of a grand Kasar, the ceremonial armour of Farsight is granted to them, and they are anointed Grand Kasar, by kissing the hilt of the Dawnblade, the symbol of Enclave liberty (a blade no longer drawn by Enclave Tau, but instead enshrined within Farsight<nowiki>'</nowiki>s tomb upon the world of Fio-Mon<nowiki>'</nowiki>Tarra.<br><br>To survive, the Enclaves abandoned the concept of refining their technology. Instead, they relied on trade between rival empires and between merchants and the like. Thus, the Enclaves became a melting pot of differing technologies, all utilised by the Kasar in order to survive. Though not as technologically advanced as their Tau neighbours, the Enclaves have large numbers of fire caste warriors, and a willingness to use other races<nowiki>'</nowiki> equipment should the need arise. For instance, there are several occasions where enclave troopers have been seen wielding lasguns, carapace armour, Daconial nano-crystalline armour, digital weapons, or other such gear, in conjunction with Tau technology, in some strange hybridisation of technologies. So far, it has kept them relatively powerful, and resistant to sporadic Tau Empire assaults.<br><br>The second subversive element came into being much later. By M43, the Empire was in full expansive operations. However, it took several centuries until the process of colonisation and organisation of water caste administration could be implemented fully on every Sept world and system. One such neglected Sept colony was one of the furthest a field. Located on the northern border of Tau expansion across the fringe, To<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kaan sept was colonised late on. Though a verdant world, the Aun could only spare a single exploration fleet to colonise and inhabit . To bolster numbers in the colonial army, many Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa auxiliary troops were utilised. To<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kaan was subdued by this combined force, though the battle was difficult, due to the fanatical resolve of the native warrior Hu<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta, a human tribal culture that made excellent use of captured Tau equipment during the year long invasion. Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kais, the commanding ethereal on the expedition, was so impressed with the Hu<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta<nowiki>'</nowiki>s abilities, he offered them roles within the occupying Tau force. Though the Tau fire caste were sceptical of these uncultured warriors, the Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa took to them very well, instructing them on the philosophies of the greater Good, and training them in the use of Tau equipment (even though the Hu<nowiki>'</nowiki>sta had utilised much of the Tau equipment already, during the war). In turn, the HU<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta explained how they worshipped the great white serpent, and also taught the Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa some of their ambush techniques and unique battle tactics.&nbsp;<br><br>As the colony became less and less visited by the Tau central authority, Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kais became more and more reliant upon his various Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa subjects to fend off threats to his colony<nowiki>'</nowiki>s security. Though the expedition was well staffed by Water, Earth and Air Caste, the Fire Caste sent had been a smaller umber to begin with. The wars against the Hu<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta depleted them further, and over the centuries, the fire warriors became less and less viable as a firing force, as their numbers weren ot being replaced as well as their Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa-He<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta allies could. The Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>O of the He<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta contingent, Baldan Rar, got closer to Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kais than any other commander. The two often consulted one another upon tactics and strategies. Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kais would often got advice from Baldan on how to keep the majority-human population of the Sept colony appeased, and in turn, Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kais would entrust more and more duties. The Hu<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta converted to the philosophy of the greater good rather well, incorporating their serpent god into the myriad meanings of the greater good.<br><br>Upon the death of Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kais, a dispute broke out amidst the remaining subordinate Ethereals. Several of them recommended them selves for the role of Overall colonial leader. There was an important distinction between the two main groups that built up amongst the Ethereals. There were the Traditionalists, who argued that, upon becoming supreme Sept Aun, that the Fire Caste should be put in overall command of defence once more. The other group were pro-Gue groups, who believed the Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa had been doing a perfectly fine job of defending the realm. In the end, through honour duels, personal and public elections, and outright intrigue, the pro-Gue groups got their wish, and Baldan remained overall military commander. Oddly for the traditionalists, Baldan<nowiki>'</nowiki>s supporters were not just from the Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa and the general Gue population, but also from the majority of the Earth and Water Castes also. The successor to the Aunship of the Sept fell to Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>J<nowiki>'</nowiki>Karra. As it would transpire, this ethereal was rather weak as a leader, and was virtually a puppet for Baldan and his successors.<br><br>By the time more regular contact had been established by the Tau empire with To<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kaan, in 335.M46, it was barely recognisable as a tau sept world. Humans and Tau were almost equals, with the Tau filling in most non-military roles, while the militant <nowiki>'</nowiki>Gue Caste<nowiki>'</nowiki> sat on the council of castes, and fought at the fore front of most assaults, with the only fire caste remaining piloting the battle suits mostly (due tot heu unique designs of the battle suits, tailored ast hey were, for Tau alone). Chief Commander Moonheart of the Tau Imperial forces, even requested permission to invade To<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kaan, and <nowiki>'</nowiki>cleanse<nowiki>'</nowiki> it of its perceived subversion of the greater good. Aun<nowiki>'</nowiki>Va however, vetoed this plan, and decided to instead recognise the right of To<nowiki>'</nowiki>Kaan, the nick-named <nowiki>'</nowiki>human colony<nowiki>'</nowiki>, as being part of the Empire. This was mainly because the Hu<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta had so completely converted to the greater good, only their brutal tribal clubs (wielded n battle by every Hu<nowiki>'</nowiki>Sta Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>Vesa) remained of their old culture. The Gue<nowiki>'</nowiki>vesa contingent were there to stay, and would evntually become a key ally in the long war against the Thexian elite and their allies(which will be documented at a later date).<br />
{{Template:TheShapeOfTheNightmareToCome}}<br />
<br />
Comments and Questions-<br />
I have one question. And one exactly. I apologize beforehand for creating this section, but I don't see another way to express this directly. What happens to the Farsight Enclaves?<br />
Consider: They are led by ex-legendary heroes of the Tau Empire, the Eight, among them the Head of State being Commander Farsight himself. The few incredibly hardy worlds of the Enclaves are sustained both by the idealistic and actually moral meritocratic technocracy that lacks a caste system, unlike it's legalist-semi religious counterpart. Nor are they ignorant of the Warp and Chaos in 999.M41, Farsight himself came into contact with daemons on an ork extermination mission on Arthas Moloch when he still served for the Empire, and what he saw in the Warp Portals and the texts of the dead temple where he found his non-warp xenos archeotech sword, the Dawn Blade, is part of what caused him to doubt the Tau Empire's basic precepts and leadership and led a rebellion. The Enclaves are favored by many sympathizers within, especially from the Earth Caste, the scientists especially, and Fire Castes' commanders who saw Farsight as a pure soul. They have been highly successful thus far, favoring a much more battlesuit heavy combat doctrine, backed by a people fighting and living in freedom, and in an area very difficult for the Tau Empire to do more than patrol due to Imperial presence, the Damocles Gulf, and only in 999.M41 did they deploy their first expedition fleet with two of the new Custodian Battleships against the Enclaves, beginning their voyage at the tail end of the year, and the Enclaves have a navy more than ready. So effectively, the Enclaves are a highly obscure warrior-artist buffer zone that stand for all the concepts of universalism, from universal suffrage and compassion to freedom of speech. How do they fare?</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Story:Love_Can_Bloom&diff=595404Story:Love Can Bloom2014-05-24T00:33:55Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Chapter Five */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{Story}}<br />
{{heresy}}<br />
[[Image:LCB Logo1.jpg|thumb|right]]<br />
<br />
It all started so simply....<br />
<br />
'''Love Can Bloom''' is the title of one of the most <s>well-loved, heretical, and tl;dr</s> <i>who let the Ecclesiarchy in here?</i> commonly-known pieces of writefaggotry ever to grace [[:/tg/]]. Once upon a time, there was a [[Drawfags|drawfag]] named Miko. She made a comic about a Vindicare assassin falling in love with Taldeer from [[Dawn of War]]: Dark Crusade and Dawn of War: Winter Assault. The scene was genuinely well-drawn, so despite it causing nerd [[rage]], /tg/ deemed it worthy of note.<br />
<br />
And then, as if to take the above and accelerate it into something more, a skilled writefag drew a fanfic for this. There was a mixture of nerd rage and delight. As the story panned out it told an intriguing and surprisingly deep tale that is widely considered some of the best to come out of /tg/ in the last few years. The story was beloved by the tubernets, who either broadly appreciated it, openly mocked it, or more commonly, [[troll|both]].<br />
<br />
The story tells of LIIVI (52.6 in the Roman Numeric system), the aforementioned [[Vindicare]] temple assassin, assigned to eliminate a fleeing, critically-injured [[Taldeer]] following the fall of the [[Eldar]] stronghold in Dark Crusade. Genuinely moved by the sight of the woman and the fact that she is the last of her kind on the planet, LIIVI goes against his orders and becomes Taldeer's guardian, fighting through increasingly-difficult odds in a galaxy determined to destroy them both. The engineered killing machine that is LIIVI discovers his humanity, and Taldeer confronts her inner demons - figuratively and literally. It has spawned [[::Category:Stories/Love Can Bloom|at least 2 spin-off works]], not the least of which is [[Core of Brutality]] and [[Imber]], a continuation of the series. There is also [[Lofn]] which is just d'aww.<br />
<br />
<s>And then, as if to drive the point home, recent scenarios in [[Dawn of War 2]] have suggested that ''the entire fucking thing is canon''.</s> <s>NO they haven't. They just said that Taldeer died.</s> They plucked a singular, random soulstone from Kyras's demonic ass without even stopping to interview the fucking gem. Predictions: Trolling. <br />
<br />
Also LIIVI is now quoted in Dark Heresy:Ascension, and the book also contains a picture of a Farseer stalked by a Vindicare. Win!<br />
<br />
==Story==<br />
[[Image:LCB Original.jpg|thumb|right]]<br />
===Chapter One===<br />
''"Exitus Acta Probat: the Outcome Justifies the Deed."'' <br />
-Dictum Vindicare<br />
<br />
The Vindicare creed is that enemies of the Imperium of Man die ignoble deaths. No trials for these heretics, no recognition of any ability they hold, not even a record of their order to be killed. A quick, surgical procedure, a reflexive, impassive, reaction to eliminate an enemy that leaves behind only the slightest of blemishes, soon to be hushed up and covered for fear of prompting more invisible, bureaucratic executions. Traitors and rebels may gird themselves for the unlimited waves of guardsmen crushing their towns underfoot, continent disintegrating orbital bombings, and fearless, unstoppable, merciless space marines. Yet, how they quail when oh so casually, their honored leader, god figure, demagogue, idol, chosen one, noble general, great hero, neighbor, friend, mother, father, child, or beloved fall lifeless, a round dark hole in their forehead.<br />
<br />
"Do not fail."<br />
<br />
Most munitions that this assassin had dealt with previously have been subsonic, quiet, subtle machines that he is expected to keep hidden and assemble on site; other dogmas stated that all weapons had to be popular with those populations that were to be affected, to show the Emperor's judgment came from the people.<br />
<br />
And then there was the Exitus rifle.<br />
<br />
Tough enough to break a terminator's Tactical Dreadnought Armor, quiet enough to not wake the baby you are using for a fire brace. It is immense, huge and unwieldy, a full one point eight seven meters long when fully deployed, nearly as tall as the man carrying it, weighing eight kilograms unloaded, a full nine loaded.<br />
<br />
"One shot is all I need."<br />
<br />
By all means, Governor-Militant Alexander should have dispatched a Culexus. Whatever psychic blasphemy the witch unleashed, would have been stifled by the sheer terror generated by it. It was as close to monster a human could get and still be beloved by the Imperium. Only just.<br />
<br />
Lukas Alexander hated those things. That's why the Vindicare had been dispatched. That, and a tangible reminder of the consequences of failure.<br />
<br />
"Standby for drop order."<br />
The sighting array switched through the spectra, finally settling on human normal. The Vindicare enjoyed those brief moments when the targets were confirmed.<br />
<br />
Eldar. Perhaps a one and two five meter tall one. Neck doesn't break easy, little bone. Very flexible. The Primary was having trouble with its helmet, and the Vindicare waited. A combat mission was free of the various restrictions, implications, and extenuating circumstances that were far too often glued to it. A swift kill was all that was necessary.<br />
<br />
"Appears injured," he murmured into the mouthpiece. Just in case Lukas was listening. He was a paranoid man, the Inquisition playing both sides in the conflict between Astartes and Guard. Better to assuage the Governor that he was following policy.<br />
<br />
"All the better. Drop her," The commander had no appreciation for the moment. Orders were orders. His finger was on the trigger-<br />
<br />
"Wait, something's happening-"<br />
<br />
"I...Can't."<br />
<br />
"What do you mean you can't? Soldier? What's going on?" Lieutenant Ardrin shot a glance at the monitors across the screen, running down the various cryptorunes that festooned the archaic mechanicals, "The Techpriest checked every last one of these things for flaws in their machine spirits, so I KNOW there is nothing wrong with you. What is the difficulty?"<br />
<br />
Silence.<br />
<br />
"I say again, assassin, what is the problem? Are you under attack? Is the Eldar dead?"<br />
<br />
The glow of the glass machine in front of Ardrin said nothing. He sighed, and then turned to the vox operator next to him, currently relaying status reports on the destruction of a building to Lukas.<br />
<br />
"Inform Lukas that the Vindicare is unresponsive."<br />
The officer nodded, speaking a word of prayer before entrusting it to the waves on the wind. The response was short in returning.<br />
<br />
Dispatch two chimeras fully loaded. Contact the killer's handlers. Pray for forgiveness.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
''To know the future is to look upon an ocean of possibility. Twisting, turning vast and serene at the distance. What a harmonious blue it seems ahead of you, blended together with but the vague hints of surf and wave edging and bouncing across the way. You approach it, details start to come forth, and for a moment, you can see the lines of tide, the touch of the wind, rocks set in there, and aquatics going in and out of it.''<br />
<br />
''Now you are on the beach, and you can see the future coming at you, then pulling back, a hunger determined by rocks in the sky and the density of particles hundreds of miles away. You stumble over a gewgaw vomited forth by the surf, but you can't stop walking forward. Cold, it seems to push you away at first, but then it pulls, pulls firmly. Suddenly, the possibility and limitless potential you saw a mile back is gone, replaced by green and white and blue pulling you down into the dark.''<br />
<br />
That's how this battle was. It seemed so simple, so easy at first. Then she stepped in, and suddenly she was in the middle, sucked out and away, her possibilities narrowing and tightening like water running down lungs. In the distance, screams of her kin, valuable every one of them, more long lives dimmed and smothered by a horde of sparks. Quick lived humans.<br />
<br />
Then it was impossible. She had gone so far as to charge, for a moment caught on the path of the warrior all those blood obsessed spoke so highly of. And what did she get?<br />
<br />
Stabbed through the torso for it.<br />
<br />
It was the adrenaline, the tactical necessity, her own fate, to flee. Anything but cowardice. The helmet was stifling. It had to come off, she had to breath- It wasn't the helmet. It was blood, filling her throat. She leaned heavily on her spear, opening her mouth, spit and blood running out like a fountain, that she used to know.<br />
<br />
A kilometer and a half under her, she hears grinding.<br />
<br />
The tide is coming back to her.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
"You had better give me a GOOD reason why in the name of the Throne you gave an order to move out my assassin on your own, Ardrin!"<br />
<br />
Lukas was angry. Still injured, with the high of triumph dashed upon the rocks of disappointment, he was hardly pleased. He had had to order his troops that they could not stand down yet, and the reaction had been as expected: Nineteen floggings, one execution for Conspiracy to Sabotage Imperial Morale.<br />
<br />
"Sire, I have served you lon-"<br />
<br />
"Yes, from Cadia. I had TRUSTED you. Do not dare bring up any terms of friendship, I should have you SHOT for disobedience."<br />
<br />
"Well- Look at your condition."<br />
<br />
The medicae swam around Governor Militant Lukas Alexander like flies, stitching up wounds and removing broken ribs to replace with new ones. His power packs had burst, scorching a full half of his torso. And unlike Sturnn, mused Ardrin, Alexander tolerated the longer treatment time to heal the cosmetics. Of course, unlike Sturnn, Alexander was to be a governor.<br />
<br />
"That, that damn witch unleashed her, her, her witchcraft upon me," Lukas stuttered, as a greater dose of the pain dimmers hit him, "And she g-GOT away, if you had just let me-"<br />
<br />
"Let your retinue carry you around, with a mobile med station at the ready, and your soldiers distracted from securing Tyrea? Of course, I'll just invite those Orks next door to share a glass of Amasec sire."<br />
<br />
"I have a commissar outside."<br />
<br />
"And I know you're smart enough not to execute an honest aide," Ardrin spread his hands, "I was thinking of the greater campaign."<br />
<br />
Alexander sighed, nodded slowly, wincing again, "Very well. I'll afford you this luxury. I must admit," He waved the untreated hand down to himself, "I was hardly in any condition to act. Thank the Emperor for unh - the fine medical supplies the men got from those Tau- Not that we need to tell anybody about this."<br />
<br />
"Of course sire. And the Officios of the Assassinorium?"<br />
<br />
"I expect they're already here."<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
The Eldar's biology is similar to a human's. They still have sweat and adrenal glands, they have pupils that dilate, lungs that draw in more oxygen in preparation of a standard fight or flight situation. What they do not have are the instincts of a human being. A human being (As was drilled into the Vindicare at the Temple) when confronted by a situation of fear will scream to alert members of its family unit, will attempt to either keep the predator in sight, or flee blindly to shelter or more family units. A sign you have done a job poorly is when the target is allowed to display the fear instinct. Typically, these instincts manifest themselves in the "Secondaries" onlookers, targets of opportunity, and the populace that one is attempting to get the message to. This is considered victory.<br />
<br />
However, when it comes to Eldar, they do not follow human instinct. The Farseer in the Vindicare's sights does not scream, she draws her foot back, places both hands on her weapon, lowers her center of gravity. Sweat does not appear on her skin, rather muscles tense and relax, testing each. A moment of sensitivity in her abdominals, then release, as the weight shifts once more. A gloved hand reaches up, pulls back long black hair out of her eyes.<br />
<br />
But her eyes, they do dilate. The Vindicare's spymask zooms in on the point to which he already looked; those frightened eyes focusing on a patch of dirt. Sharp metal breaks through dry dirt.<br />
<br />
The ocean is around Farseer Taldeer now. She drifts on the eddies, bobbing away from the hungry black below. Whenever death came close, she could feel it tugging, not the ocean tide, but something hungry. Fate mocked her, jeered her, pointing down there, but she had to ignore it, put it out of mind. And the smell of Lameras.<br />
<br />
She drifts up, her fingers running down the wraithbone howling spear, runes of victory, rage, Khaela Mensha Khaine, Biel Tan, rebirth, death, and Ulthwe, sliding between her fingers. She breathes in the sharp air of an alien world, one that she always loathed, but now was smelling familiarly of something. On the air was something else, rust, and the innate, repulsive soulessness of the Great Enemy. Her eyes flutter, pale light filtered by eyelashes. An eddy washes over her; voices of dirt and stone and dead bones buried saying, "Here."<br />
<br />
She draws her hair back, swallows her blood, and looks at the ground. Wicked knives sprout from dead Earth. Wraithbone whistles through foreign air.<br />
<br />
Sweep in low, drag it out so as to finish it, it moves down, dips into the ground, tearing up yellow grass and slamming into the pair of hands, pulling it up, revealing the roots of a vile steel skeleton. Only half out, and her spear is only half through the second hand. The first falls on the ground behind it, rolling and twitching in its search for flesh and blood.<br />
<br />
She surges forward, as the hand pulls out of the edge of her blade with unnatural strength. She steps across and in the blink of an eye slams her foot into the things face, ramming it back into the ground, revealing the neck. A bare instant before a response was formulated in the thing's brain, Wraithbone severs its head, sending sparks gushing.<br />
<br />
===Chapter Two===<br />
<br />
<br />
Taldeer had to rely upon speed. The only moment they were vulnerable, and even then was just barely was when they came out of the ground. She might have had a chance before, but-<br />
<br />
She feels her side. Blood warm, with stray strings of meat snapped with her last exertion. And as if to remind her, pain shot through her body, sending her to her knees.<br />
She looks up, the Flayed One uncovered, emerging from the ground, performing what she logically knows to be status checks of their corporum, but what for the life of her seem to be the stretches and aches of predators reawakened. Cracks of stone lodged in their living metal echo across the valley. There was a tomb under here, there had to be.<br />
<br />
One comes closer, cocking its head. Insanely enough, she wonders why it hadn't already struck. Was it checking the database against traps and ruses pulled millennia ago? Verifying her against accounts of age old enemies reserved for torture or consumption? ''Come on,'' she thought bitterly, gripping her spear, ''this one line of fate where I don't die, needs you t-''<br />
<br />
"Windspeed, 4km/hr, distancing, 1.6 km, .67 cm adjust."<br />
<br />
Foreign thought. Tasted li-<br />
<br />
"Necron. Acid rounds recommended. Shoot the joints."<br />
<br />
She blinked, astonished, as the sun was blocked out by a raised hand.<br />
<br />
A kilometer and a half away, the slight sound that one could mistake for a finger snap is heard.<br />
<br />
Taldeer raises a hand in front of her face as a bullet rams into the center necron ribcage, shards of hypersonic shrapnel nudged by fate and her mind away from her. The metallic horror's spine, set at a one hundred and forty five degree angle, tilts, its claw flailing at where an Eldar used to be in its fevered program, before the acid finishes what a near kilogram round couldn't, and it falls in half.<br />
<br />
Three flayed ones look to the horizon, as another finger snaps.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
"Governor Militant."<br />
<br />
Lukas Alexander stayed where he was, overseeing the incineration of the Eldar corpses, the troopers clad in chem masks and biochemical armor. He turned his head, slightly, to see three men far apart from one another. One was leaning on an ammo dump, having a smoke, the other carefully standing guard in front of an entirely unimportant building. The third, was a man dressed in immaculate uniform who had conveniently forgotten any sort of identifier.<br />
<br />
"Soldier," Alexander turned back to look in the pit, promethieum lapping the sides. A weak hand raised, and one of the incinerators yelled, pointing down. All five turned their main jets on the offending motion.<br />
<br />
"I need to brief you sir," the soldier blinked carefully, "On the situation."<br />
<br />
Lukas nodded carefully, turning away from the bubbling hiss, "And your comr-"<br />
<br />
The soldier stepped far too close to the governor in the space of a moment, placing a hand on his shoulder, his pinky sliding along to the Governor's carotid.<br />
<br />
"My credentials are all in order, and don't bear mentioning sire. Where and when would you like the briefing?" The pinky slid up to the base of the chin, following the line of the pulse.<br />
<br />
There was much the Governor Militant would have said. He would have laughed at the false soldier, threatening with a finger. Lukas would have loved to tell the fake all that Lukas had done in service to the Emperor of Man. He would have struck the man, shot him, and ordered the other two executed. Would have.<br />
<br />
"I feel, we should meet immediately. Alone. In my command tent," He whispered, his mouth suddenly run dry.<br />
<br />
"Thank you, Governor Alexander," the soldier murmured, removing his hand and turning on his heel. "But I feel that Ardrin should come, wouldn't you say sire?"<br />
<br />
"Of course," Said the Governor, turning, following the man, and coincidentally followed by the other two soldiers minding their own business.<br />
<br />
Behind him, the smoke drove high into the sky.<br />
<br />
"Now," Said the man of the Officio Assassinorum, "You can be candid," he spread his hands, "Forgive me, my lord, but the secrecy of our service holds utmost sway over any respect for command. Do you wish to have me flogged, or denied rations? I believe those are penalties that you may inflict on me."<br />
<br />
Lukas had just sat down, and paused, looking up, "Pardon me? Just who ar-"<br />
<br />
"Specific ranks, alas, I can not divulge, even within these sound proofed walls, and before you say commander, the Inquisition had the walls soundproofed, just in case of a situation like this. Helps to assure no unfortunate leaks of confidential information. Would like to lock me up in the stocks? They have some stocks on the ship."<br />
<br />
"Y-"<br />
<br />
"It's a good thing your officer is unarmed," said the man turning on his heel, placing a too clean and soft hand on the Governor's table, "He seems the type to resist, fortunately my two comrades are just the type to take him in with a minimum of fuss, hmm, assaulting a fellow officer, my my, what a time at the whipping post for me!" The man turned, a smile on his face.<br />
<br />
"Who ARE you?"<br />
<br />
"My name would seem nonsense to you, I'm afraid. Actually, I should rephrase that; names, at least in my temple, are determined by missions completed. I feel that as Governor, at least in this current crisis, you must have some means to refer to me."<br />
<br />
"And you would be?"<br />
<br />
"Midilv," As Lukas opened his mouth, "I regretfully ask you to puzzle that one out for yourself."<br />
<br />
"Why are you speaking so deferentially?"<br />
<br />
"Because I am a loyal servant of the Emperor, and the Inquisitor has instructed me to obey you."<br />
<br />
"There is an Inquisitor here?"<br />
<br />
"He is not... Public," Midilv leaned in, his lips drawn taut across his too symmetrical, pore-less face. "Of this you should mention in thanks to your prayers to the Emperor tonight."<br />
<br />
"The Vindicare," Lukas raised a hand before Midilv spoke. "And just the facts, thank you very much. I'm not in the mood for your shame and self mortification, or hints at machinations above and below," Lukas leaned in. "Just. Tell. Me. About. The. Vindicare."<br />
<br />
The two casual guardsmen entered, bearing Ardrin between them. Ardrin looked clearly intoxicated on victory amasec. ''Looked.'' Midilv continued, heedless of the new company.<br />
<br />
"The Vindicare. Right. Where to start: The obvious. He shouldn't be capable of this." <br />
<br />
"Of what?"<br />
<br />
"Rebellion."<br />
<br />
The entirely ordinary guardsmen lined themselves behind their speaker in formation. Lukas stared at the three of them, as he sat back heavily, color draining from his face.<br />
<br />
"Rebellion?"<br />
<br />
Rebellion was something that happened to ordinary men. It was something that happened in myth to the Space Marines long, long ago. The Assassins were an urban legend. They were a myth. Alexander was unaware of their existence until shortly before the invasion of Kronus. They were said to be inhuman. Machines of flesh and bone and Imperial propaganda. They were ideas, they were mankind's secret monsters, held on short chains and reduced to lives as valuable ammunition.<br />
<br />
How can ammunition rebel?<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Necrons.<br />
<br />
Appeared recently. Date of origin, areas of operation, all invalid and untaught to the Vindicare.<br />
<br />
The N20 coolant sheath is cool to the touch. A bad sign. Heat distends accuracy, and it should be freezing through the gloves.<br />
<br />
The finger snaps, and the kick rams into the Vindicare's shoulder. A kilometer away, wraithbone spear impales the already fragmented skull, and pulls down, ramming through into the torso, pulling her up. Through the scope, she glitters. She shines. She glows radiant. In every spectrum.<br />
<br />
Range has to be shortened, concludes the Vindicare. Naturally, in order to increase accuracy and allow a change to the secondary weapon. Naturally.<br />
<br />
The Vindicare stands, and starts moving forward. His eye never leaves the scope. And the scope always seems to find itself back onto her. The finger snaps again.<br />
<br />
Farseer Taldeer's hands come apart, and together, the fingers dancing and sliding across the wraithbones, her eyes, following the head of the blade, as it slides, up and away, traces of the bitter living metal following from the body.<br />
<br />
Two down, five to go. The tide pulls around her, leaving her untouched where only moments before she was doomed. How?<br />
<br />
Heavy footsteps crash into and rise from barren earth, as another silent Necron charges the Farseer from behind.<br />
<br />
She feels the shot through the waves before it hits. A bullet, sliding through the machine's equivalent of a right thigh, and ending in it's left knee. She kneels, bringing the blade up, into the falling creature's neck, and then pulling back to impale the one that tried to stab her with claws lost from a bullet.<br />
<br />
A human. A human was helping her. She could tell, by the caliber of the rounds. All brute force, no understanding of the harmony of a battle. Not made to end the battle right, but to end the battle now.<br />
<br />
She couldn't be more thankful. The abomination in front of her still lived, sliding forward, scratching the wraithbone. She stepped back, pulling her weapon free, and nearly stepped too far before she felt the fates turn down into the dark hunger, and stopped in time to miss the claws of the one behind.<br />
<br />
She leaps again, soaring by her will, and glanced down. Three left. One of them damaged. Confidence runs up and down her, as she falls back to earth, bracing herself as the pain in her side reminds her that she isn't unhurt herself, but she still feels so good. The three turn as one to face her.<br />
<br />
There is a snap. Two Necron automatically track the third's head as it flies off the already damaged neck, landing on the ground to their right. They turn back to her. Waiting, for something. She couldn't lose the initiative.<br />
<br />
She surges forward, low and ready. The one on the left has uneven footing, the living metal slower to adapt to the rocky landscape under it than true flesh. She steps first to the left, fate singing its assurances for the direction, then drives in, spear ahead-<br />
<br />
And sees the Necron take it. No reaction. His comrade, is a blur of motion.<br />
<br />
The Fates laugh, as the necron metal and her armor emit a symphony of shrieks.<br />
<br />
The Necron she impaled looks passively on, it's hands reaching out and holding onto the spear as she attempts to pull it back with her one good hand. No use.<br />
<br />
She lets go, twisting, biting her lower lip as the last of her arm guard gave way, giving the slicing talons access to her untouched flesh, she pulls, her bitten lip gives blood, and her arm shrieks in pain as she falls back, injured arm held close, she pulls back.<br />
<br />
The impaled Necron stares down at her spear, as the metal dislodges it, slowly shaking and undulating it free. The other, stares for a moment at the blood on its claws, the ragged cloth and skin held, and compulsively wipes and twitches it across itself.<br />
<br />
The two turn, diving low, scuttling forward, going on either side of her.<br />
<br />
The ocean is gone. There are no tides, no eddies, no drifts anymore in the possibilities. Every way points down.<br />
<br />
She screams.<br />
<br />
Ordinary human beings do not hold a rifle in one hand, and a pistol in the other. Much less a rifle designed to pound a near kilogram round across a battlefield to, if necessary, blow apart a monstrosity spawned of nightmares and the unholy vagaries of the Warp. The pistol was little better than a sized down version of the rifle. This is because it might break your arms. A space marine wouldn't do it because it was stupid.<br />
<br />
The Vindicare reflected on this as he jumped over the embankment, rifle down his shoulder, and pistol in his hand. His eyes switch between each in the time of a blink, lining them up with two skulls.<br />
<br />
This is going to miss, he thought. Two snaps were matched with two unbearably loud reports of metal rammed into. Those bullets aren't even going to kill them, probably. Two metal skulls were reduced to molten, slightly caustic and soggy shrapnel. ''I'm probably going to end up hurting something.''<br />
<br />
He landed with grace, next to Farseer Taldeer.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
"A Vindicare should not be mistaken for a human being. Contrary to a human being, who is filled with distractions, memories, and connections to others, a Vindicare is a well oiled machine. He was raised and trained, from birth, that the only reason he wasn't dead, raped, ruined, or suffered under any other horrible abuse that we could think of, was because of the Emperor. They were taught that they were selfish monsters, to even think of being different from their fellows. Their vocabulary is limited to only that which they need. Any deviation is punished by torture. They were taught to hide from their teachers and administrators, and to only come out when the mission was complete, and only when they received word from an authority figure that acted the impeccable imperial. Any deviation was punished with torture. The sense of smell is cultivated carefully. We have attempted to teach them to tell the difference of weapons by discharge smell. Any exposure to perfume, or anything pleasant and unneeded in their missions is punished by torture. Callidus require some socialization to blend in. Culexus, with their small pool of recruits have need to take in any they can find. Eversor, their combat drugs do the trick. Never shall you find any more well disciplined than a Vindicare."<br />
<br />
"So what happened to this one?"<br />
<br />
"We failed to punish him for a botched mission."<br />
<br />
"A botched mission? You let him live after a botched mission? And you gave him to me after that? I am responsible for liberating a world-"<br />
<br />
"One of a million, sire. And oh so many people want assassins. This was one of them. An Inquisitor working on a world desired to send a message to the governor. The Vindicare was supposed to take out one of the primary's personal secondary's."<br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
"His mistress. The Inquisitor added stipulations. The Vindicare finished the job, but he failed to complete these stipulations."<br />
<br />
"How did you manage to defy an Inquisitor?"<br />
<br />
"His luck held. The Inquisitor was shortly thereafter purged before he could bring his wrath to bear, and the Inquisition informed us that they would take no action against us."<br />
<br />
"He did kill her, right?"<br />
<br />
"Yes."<br />
<br />
"Then what's the matter now? He was fine earlier in the campaign."<br />
<br />
"Combat stress? Machines do wear out, barring proper maintenance. Some machines sooner than others. Does it matter? What matters is that your men out there shall not find him, even with our guidance that we provided them."<br />
<br />
"Are you-"<br />
<br />
"We are not sabotaging them. I'm just telling you that the Vindicare are trained to be a force of nature. They strike as lightning upon the heretic, they are as hard to catch as the wind, and they are as easy to find as a mote of dust in the rainforest. Do not worry though. He will be found. There is always a contingency."<br />
<br />
===Chapter Three===<br />
<br />
<br />
Slaanesh was near.<br />
<br />
[[Image:LCB Headcam.jpg|thumb|right]]Taldeer could feel it in every breath. Blood. A lot of blood was lost. She shouldn't be dead yet though. A noise. A presence. It wasn't a Necron.<br />
<br />
It shouldn't be like this. She was trusted to come, to guide the lessers to extinguish the threat throbbing rotten in the core of Kronus, and leave them in confusion. Yet, here she was, helpless, losing blood, fallen to fool pride; at the mercy of something. Someone. Someone with a presence at least. She took a small comfort in that, and the soulgem at her neck.<br />
<br />
''Primary suffering internal bleeding, blood loss severe,'' the thoughts came through again. Her eyelids flickered momentary glances of a too bright gray sky. Why did they come unbidden?<br />
<br />
''Pain, pain, currently showing resignation. Job unclean, Primary has high chance of survival. Good mission. How, how, how to clean primary?''<br />
<br />
The thoughts were jumbled, mashed, rigid iron roads set that his thoughts ran through, but there was something active in there.<br />
<br />
She felt a hand touch her. She opened her eyes, and pushed out, pure reaction.<br />
<br />
A moment, and she was sitting up, regretting it immediately as fire lanced up and down her. The thoughts came again.<br />
<br />
''Primary is active. Medical science far easier than expected. Damage to self, superficial. Now...'' a lengthy pause, then hesitant, uncertain, ''Converse?''<br />
<br />
"You're okay...?" A voice flat and muffled came behind her. At first a statement, then a question, as she tottered again. This time, she was caught.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Commissar Daniel glared out of the top hatch of the Chimera.<br />
<br />
"This is RIDICULOUS!" he shouted, turning to the poor sergeant down inside the chimera, who was genially standing and listening to the bellicose man.<br />
<br />
"How so, sire?"<br />
<br />
"The soldiers of His holy wrath should not be prancing about in the middle of nowhere, chasing some worthless incapable who got himself lost! We should descending upon the Orks, take advantage of our victory-"<br />
<br />
"Do you doubt Lord Lukas?" The sergeant casually said, looking away.<br />
<br />
"If I didn't have all my faith behind noble lord Lukas Alexander, I wouldn't be doing this," Commissar Daniel finished with a glare. The sergeant nodded amiably, a large happy grin on his face.<br />
<br />
''Local yokel,'' thought the Commissar, as he stepped back inside the chimera. ''Probably never even heard of Cadia, much less appreciate what the glorious Imperium was doing, gifting this pathetic dirtball with the grace of His mercy to liberate it.'' He glanced at the auspex. Five kliks left.<br />
<br />
He leaned back, pushing forward his cap. Commander of thirty guardsmen, each armed with the best weapons they were ranked for, with the authority to kill any one of them or any one in their way to recover one missing soldier, and all he wanted was a drink.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
"No, get, get, off..." She pulled against whatever was holding her, had to get up, get away from the mon-keigh-- but she was oh so very tired. She stilled, still looking down, tensed, waiting. The seas of fortune were still, she had to reflect that stillness.<br />
<br />
"Primary, I, I...I'm, I'm sorry, you're not Primary, you're..." The voice was muffled. She stared up. Faceless. Matte black stealthsuit, a pistol in the holster. Comm mike, dangling by a wire. Compact, hard frame, well formed for a human. <br />
<br />
In a purely military sense of course. She had to estimate that it was best to just lay back. She was hardly in any shape to resist him, and he wasn't hostile. Yet. Stay neutral. Clipped. Communicate in their gothic language, but make clear no weakness. <br />
<br />
"Farseer Taldeer. Your name?"<br />
<br />
"L-I-I-V-I," He had a mind of iron, well trained to keep her out. It was always hard to translate human thought, but she prided herself on her mastery of psionics. Yet, frustratingly, she was on near equal footing with a mere soldier with a gun. All she felt were some whispers of emotion. Autonomous, instinct, identification.<br />
<br />
"Do you always spell things out, Liivi?" Liivi? Strange name.<br />
<br />
"I think this is my first time." She noted with surprise her captor was rusty in his own tongue.<br />
<br />
"Why were you shooting the Necrons?"<br />
<br />
"Secondary objective: destroy hostile combatants."<br />
<br />
"And the first?"<br />
<br />
Liivi paused, looked away.<br />
<br />
A whisper of a thought passed through her head, as she stared intently at him. The iron bars of his mind shifted, subtly, until they stuck. <br />
<br />
"To protect you." <br />
<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
<br />
"A full history of the Vindicare's career, if you please."<br />
<br />
Lukas blinked, glancing at the now fully conscious and hurting Ardrin. "History? You're the handlers."<br />
<br />
Midilv sighed, leaning back in his chair, opening hands for the "guards" behind him to place a dataslate and quill into. "We do take care of him, keeping him in an isolation cell and maintaining his health, yes; but if you recall, your landing at Victory Bay and the following conquests were chaotic. He was out of our hands and served on the field."<br />
<br />
"But," Ardrin said, "he would leave between missions, just disappear. We assumed he was going back to you."<br />
<br />
"Mission probability post-combat rejuvenation/isolation, reset and remaintain for next operation in greater campaign." Lukas glanced over at one of the four faux guardsmen.<br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
"Don't blame him, he doesn't know how to speak. Blending with civilian populaces isn't our strong suit; best to avoid only after one's proven his worth. That is our temple's dogma. We have proven success by this. What he meant was that your assassin was probably removing himself from the soldiers, as taught, and to attain a good position with field of fire, and if possible, meditate, insert a food pack to his veins, clean and repair his weapon, and sleep half hour cycles. Not that that matters, I want to know every single thing you ordered him to do in the bare three months he has been out of our eyes."<br />
<br />
"Support of soldiers in taking the industrials of Victory Bay," Ardrin wrinkled his nose, "Nasty fighting. We got tipped off about a Tauphile schism. Er, Tau sympathizers were fighting each other."<br />
<br />
"And?"<br />
<br />
"And I ordered him to cover fire. Occupants were in the house, I ordered him to clear it. There was a family."<br />
<br />
"Hmph. Wouldn't affect him. He understands families to be the smallest and most informal squads, nothing more. He wouldn't care."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Protect me?" Taldeer realized she had to remain casual. There was a lie in his voice, even if it wasn't in his mind. Some mon'keigh thug hired by one of their damned Inquisitors who wanted to be "enlightened" or to steal technology, just what she needed, "Why me?" She was too injured to argue right now.<br />
<br />
"It is a duty." He doesn't know, she realized. And he was very confused about it. Typical idiocy, these humans hadn't even explained the purpose to their henchmen. Guess that's what you get when you are so many with so short to live.<br />
<br />
"Perhaps," Farseer Taldeer said, "You may do something about my injuries. And cease holding on to me."<br />
<br />
The most important thing at the moment was ensuring immobility. Her men would come soon, she could be evacuated easily, and this one human would. Would.<br />
<br />
She would think on it.<br />
<br />
"How?"<br />
<br />
She was not expecting that.<br />
<br />
"How? Well, shouldn't you know that? I've felt it flash through soldier's minds." ''When I hack them to screaming pieces with my weapon, let's not mention that bit.'' "When, they, uh..."<br />
<br />
"Are dying? I was taught that was a common response, the call for a 'medic'. It replaces or supplements call of maternal member of the family squad, or paternal more rarely. Nurture, healing, are associated with it. I am taught that if the shot is unclean, and the target is out of sight, all those who bear the common sign of a healer are to be shot," Taldeer stared, and Liivi stared down back at her, then, as if to explain, "To disable any chance of the Primary resuscitating and rendering the mission a failure."<br />
<br />
Silence.<br />
<br />
"Perhaps it is best if you set me down. And keep watch for more enemies, while I treat myself."<br />
<br />
The surf doesn't chop. The tide ebbs, insignificant, rising and falling, like the ocean was sleeping. Farseer Taldeer sits on the beach of tomorrow and in the Tyrea plains of Kronus.<br />
<br />
Three kilometers away, through the rough terrain, wraithbone psychoplastic bubbled as the last of the consecrated promethium burned off of the Bonesinger's arts. The webway was long destroyed, reduced to shards as she had evacuated through it. <br />
<br />
A mere kilometer under her, the presumed home of the necrons had turned quiet; for now at least. As she recalled, the nearest possible position of her battlegroup was at least fifteen kilometers away. <br />
<br />
And nine meters away was the human. Mon-keigh. Killer. Assassin. Weapon. Savior. He had knelt down, rolling out a plastic canopy which he laid his rifle down upon, and was cleaning it one handed. The other carried a pistol, straightening and pointing at the rustles of wind, and the far off thunder of ordnance. The face mask remained intently focused on the rifle the whole time. <br />
<br />
Farseer Taldeer took out her runestones, and after a moment's contemplation, her shuriken pistol. She grabbed a handful of her dice, raising them to her spirit stone. She was injured, cut off from support, alone with a self declared assassin. Time to roll the bones. <br />
<br />
Nine rounds used. Eighteen remaining. Hellfire, turbo penetrator, and shieldbreaker ordnance, still in reserve.<br />
<br />
Movement at 321 degrees. The arm holding the Exitus pistol snaps over by reflex, the third eye sight unable to clearly catch up. Primary was rolling dice. All of her equipment was beside her. She appeared to be dropping some sort of smaller equipment.<br />
<br />
The N20 coolant sheathe emits a small hiss as it slides over the barrel. The Vindicare returns his pistol to the holster, replacing the magazines. Packing together and reassembling his rifle.<br />
<br />
They would be tracking him now. The small electronic whine on his person told him as much. The terrain was rougher, the commander had chosen the battlefield to hem in the Eldar, force their hover vehicles to slow and show themselves above cover. Made for a difficult time sending forces out of the base though.<br />
<br />
The Vindicare stood up, flicking through the spectra as he glances over a horizon purple, green, pigment streaked, ruined soup of black and white. A concrete heat signature, atypical of a chimera half a kilometer away.<br />
<br />
Vindicare doctrine taught that engagement with pursuers should never be undertaken when the targets knew where you were. Misdirection, panic, and dissolution were the three objectives when handling hostile trackers.<br />
<br />
The Vindicare placed a fresh three round clip into his magazine, and stepped low among the long grasses, following the yellow white smear of thermal exhaust in the sky.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Lukas took another gulp from the water, sweating from every pore, as the three Officio Assassinorum handlers stood before his table, their poreless faces still. Ardrin was to his left, pale and shivering, still suffering from the chemicals washed through him.<br />
<br />
"So, it's very nice that you explained to me exactly how much you think I screwed up in handling your defective wind up killtoy, who apparently was so perfect that he fucked up a job before he came here; but you haven't explained to me how I avoid having to worry about receiving a bullet between the eyes whenever I go outside from the one of the Imperium's finest fallen."<br />
<br />
"Napalm the area, a good three kilometer radius should serve to deprive him of oxygen. Deploy the Aeronautica and carpet bomb the area. Break the Obsterm dams up north and deploy a third of your manpower salting, poisoning, and watching the plains flood that'll occur."<br />
<br />
"Hyperbole is very charming, and useful in military situations, and not in the least unwanted."<br />
<br />
"And sarcasm is a pleasant and original way to respond to statements you do not like. All I have told you are guaranteed ways to eliminate your problem," Mildilv waved his hand, "Of course, we can wait for him to run out of ammo for his Exitus weapons, which would allow you to run normal operations without worrying about officer heads popping, and then for him to run out of food."<br />
<br />
"That would actually work?"<br />
<br />
"Of course. He is incapable of social contact, and dependent upon the nutritional packs he has been indoctrinated to consume. He might well starve. Barring any civilian assistance, three weeks from now, you won't have to worry about him, if the Orks or Space Marines don't get him first."<br />
<br />
Ardrin for the first time spoke, nervously. "And the farseer? What if she intervenes?"<br />
<br />
Mildilv raised an eyebrow. "Then he'll die sooner, with an injured parasite clinging to him."<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
The chimera of the Imperial Guard is about as simple and reliable as a vehicle can get without it being pedal powered. Long lived chimeras in active use soon resemble their namesake, seeming mechanical abominations with piece after piece welded to them. The hatches replaced by doors stolen from civilian buildings, hastily covered in metal roof sheeting. Shorn off track pieces replaced with crudely fitted boiler plates. discarded power pack casings molded into hinges. The machines would run unwell, sending the Techpriests and Enginseers into hysterical fits, begging forgiveness from the machine spirits, and repairing and replacing what they could identify and find at the parts depot. But the older chimeras would get a slow mottled look over them, like a child mixing clays in a creche, it was impossible to separate metals and alloys at a basic level without rebuilding the whole thing. They wouldn't run well, but they would most certainly run.<br />
<br />
A chimera, as taught in vindicare doctrine, was a terrible headache to deal with. Tanks were less of a worry, as those deploying tanks against assassins were considered tactically inept, and the vindicare gained some honor in tying up valuable resources. Height, urban combat, and tactical use of screens would put the tanks on even footing. A chimera on the other hand, could always be used.<br />
<br />
A sniper holed in a building, the chimera would bash into the ground floor, disgorging soldiers. If the building collapsed, so what? There was always another chimera. No illumination, headlights shot out, smoke screening everything? Just drive. You'll find your way out eventually. As much as anything else the turbo penetrator round was developed to counter these situations.<br />
<br />
Two chimera crawled through the bush and over the hills and rocks, as the kilogram heavy, green banded bullet was placed in the chamber.<br />
<br />
Commissar Daniel poked his head out of the hatch again. The tech guy had said the auspex picked up something coming closer. Should be in sight range. One MIA, and all this trouble. He hoped that this was really one huge birthdate surprise for one of the soldiers. So that he could then shoot whoever was responsible.<br />
<br />
"Got a direction?"<br />
<br />
"Should be Cardinal East."<br />
<br />
"Left or right soldier, or pass me up a compass!"<br />
<br />
"Just a little to your left sir."<br />
<br />
The Commissar turned, squinting through the haze of heat at the long grass and lumpy excuse for terrain. A glint of something.<br />
<br />
Then a crack, a flash of light somewhere to his right, and something gave a soft *Tink* in the chimera's lower armor. <br />
<br />
"ENEMY FIRE!" shouted the Commissar, pulling down the hatch, as the surprised soldiers sat up, the political officer shouting at them, "Move, move, move! A man on every gun, and any gun that CAN shoot to the right, shoots! I want a wasteland I can name after myself, do you comprehend soldiers!" They followed his orders as best as they could, barring what could only be done by consulting with the planet's geographer. A hailstorm of red stabs of coherent light obliterated the area and the rigged flint and rock that had provided the target.<br />
<br />
Misdirection. LIIVI holstered his pistol, creeping low through the grass, trying to get himself into a more advantageous position.<br />
<br />
"Cease fire," said the Commissar, his day much improved. The soldiers relaxed, standing at ease, hands still holding the side mounted lasguns, venting excess steam outwards. "Driver, park us as near as you can to that suicidal stain, and give cover to the second chimera. Chimera 2, tell your squad to deploy and move in. Investigate the area. If there's a corpse, ID it, if there is isn't, bring me a corpse. Copy?"<br />
<br />
"Affirmative."<br />
<br />
It was a risk, yes. Taking a squad of soldiers out of a perfectly safe armored personnel carrier begged for snipers, traps, and a whole lot of corpses. But that would betray targets. Feeling a bit like Ibram Gaunt, the commissar leaned in to the driver, "Stick as close to them as possible, if they bug out, move us out as quickly as possible, then get a bead on who fired on us, clear?"<br />
<br />
"Sir," muttered the driver, pulling alongside the nervous squad extracting themselves from the second chimera.<br />
<br />
The troops, true to form stayed close to the chimera, practically hugging the tread guard, sweeping in close, led by their lasrifles, eyes peeled for mines or traps. The second chimera pulled up alongside the first, the guardsmen squeezed in between.<br />
<br />
The Vindicare watched them, five hundred meters behind. The one at the front, one point six meters, was the leader, the paternal. A soldier from the back, covered in spare las cells, a tear still visible in his sleeve moved forward, with a little undue haste to exchange words. On one helmet, the word, "TEATIME". A man pointed at his boot, hopping forward on one leg, speaking out the side of his mouth. Laughter.<br />
<br />
The Exitus rifle fired.<br />
<br />
The Commissar was next to the wall of the chimera when he heard the squeal. He fell immediately, laspistol to the ready, facing the wall. Maybe it was the adrenalin, or perhaps it was the initial charge of the rifle failing, and the drill bit activating, but somehow Daniel managed to watch a steel line, occasionally sending sparks and slivers of metal out, raise along the wall, ending somewhere just short of the drivers hatch, shorting out lights as it traveled along, shrieking.<br />
<br />
In the dark, he heard the thumps and screams of the soldiers outside, the panicked revving as the driver slammed down the accelerator, the lurch to the right, equipment falling around them, then another, definite slam.<br />
<br />
Outside, the Vindicare watched through the scope, watching a track fly free, a joint broken by his shot, hanging for one brief moment before the driver hit the gas, sending the tread whipping at the crowd of soldiers. The chimera lurched left, lacking pull, slamming into the other, doing mostly cosmetic damage, but serving the Vindicare's purpose. Screams, and a commissar and a crowd of soldiers leapt out, weapons brandished and at the ready.<br />
<br />
Panic. The rifle was slung, and low through the long grass, the assassin moved forward, pistol out.<br />
<br />
The most immediate problem was restoring the squad's rationality, and calming them down before they panicked entirely. A quick glance proved what the commissar had initially thought. Gouges in the side of the chimera, severe damage to the soldiers, and a track torn off on his chimera. The first thing to do in any case is be the first man to set the example.<br />
<br />
"Spread out, fire at the first thing that moves," was admittedly a bad choice, but something had torn a large gash through his chimera, and incapacitated a squad, what was he supposed to do? Break out the rations?<br />
"You men, left, the rest of you, right, drivers, up to the multilasers- fan anything coming with fire, keep looking, it could be a Carnifex for all we know!" Another bad choice of words.<br />
<br />
Buzzing. Clicking insects hopping across. Rustles of eighteen soldiers, rattled, going through the fields, rifles first. A Commissar, standing between two chimeras wedged together, covered by two multilasers.<br />
<br />
One of the guardsmen falls with a sudden gasp. A powersword points, an order is given. A confused man, who had the wind knocked out of him by a thrown rock suddenly finds himself surrounded by red searing flashes.<br />
<br />
The Commissar, raising his laspistol, catches a glimpse of something sandy, black, darting ahead of him. A pair of useless shots whiz into the undergrowth. Something whizzes by the Commissar's face.<br />
<br />
This is it, Daniel thought. Death or glory. The powersword crackles with death dealing life, as the commissar ran forward, the blade held aloft. He had to say something inspiring, he realized.<br />
<br />
"FACE YOUR DOOM, foul XENOS!" he hopes one of the troops hear it.<br />
<br />
He runs into the grass, waving his blade around. A lack of mandibles and claws key him off that something's wrong. The grass catching fire is the second.<br />
<br />
Dissolution.<br />
<br />
The guardsmen ran. What were they supposed to do?<br />
<br />
They were spread apart, something had torn apart the chimeras, their leader had shouted something and disappeared, and now the grass was catching fire? What could they do?<br />
<br />
The drivers only had the sense of mind to abandoned the crippled chimera, before they drove off, past the soldiers, relaying the panic and breaking of their unit to the base, heralding their failure and embellishing the story to seem as if they encountered an entire Ork WAAAAGH! in the long grass. In their haste, they forgot the wounded.<br />
<br />
Private Gnaeus lay on his back, staring up at the patch of grey sky, rounded by black smoke. He was one of those wounded left behind- perhaps, he considered, the only one.<br />
<br />
"Your helmet."<br />
<br />
Gnaeus rolled his head over, to a figure, hazy and blurred against the dark smoke, red flickering across its brow, fire licking away from its feet, ash swirling around it, "What does it mean?" Gnaeus was paralyzed from the waist down and had bone jutting out of his leg like wheat out of a farm. Who was he to argue importance with an angel of death?<br />
<br />
"Teatime?" A nod. The smoke crawls off as the shadow steps forward.<br />
<br />
"Teatime- It was sarcastic. A joke," far times, on Cadia. "I worked in a house, as a guard for a while. Guy I worked for always had a special time for Benzran Tea," the Reaper cocked his head at this, Gnaeus waited a moment, then launched on, feeling vaguely blasphemous, whispering through the pain. "Never took briefings then, just him and his cup. Serene even during a war, so long as he got that hot flavored water of his. So me and my mate, we said, 'all's well so long as its tea time.' We put Teatime on our helmets, a joke, that we'd stay cool. Serene as a fatman and his cup. Guess bloodloss and brain damage is doing that more for me, huh?" The Angel of Death did not laugh at the joke. Gnaeus couldn't blame him. Wouldn't seem proper, laughing at a dying man.<br />
<br />
Flakes of ash fell around the two, smoke drifting over them. The Vindicare considered this for a moment. He shrugged, bent down and took hold of a lasrifle, then reached over to pull two powerpacks from Gnaeus's pockets. Gnaeus for his part did not resist. The assassin rose, half turned, then paused. "Do you require the Emperor's Benediction?"<br />
<br />
"No, please," Gnaeus looked up. The gray sky turned blue, even as the window narrowed as the smoke thickened, "Not yet. I don't want to die yet."<br />
<br />
"Very well," Again, the Vindicare turned, heading for the smoke.<br />
<br />
"Wait," the cripple struggled, turning, crawling after the shadow heading into the dark, "Hold on, I have to ask you," his eyelids were like lead weights, dragging down, but one burning mote was left in his head, "Hold on, please, hold on," It was all dark now, "Please," pain flared anew, even as the world was dark, Gnaeus's hands digging into embers.<br />
<br />
"Tell me, will it hurt? Please, tell me?"<br />
<br />
"No."<br />
<br />
The Angel didn't lie.<br />
<br />
His body was left still for a time, until eventually, uncertain hands reached over, turning the body to face up, folding the hands over its chest, and shutting the eye lids. Imitation to last respects it had seen time and time again through the lens of his scope.<br />
<br />
===Chapter Four===<br />
<br />
<br />
Farseer Taldeer pursed her lips to suppress a grunt of pain as she probed at her wound. Blood crunched, as she dragged at more of the half crystalline clotting. ''Maybe I won't die yet,'' she thought, ''maybe first I'll turn into a crystal like the other old men. Make an interesting landmark for the Imperial colonists,'' she reflected bitterly. ''Then, picked apart by mon-keigh for purposes of romancing each other.'' <br />
<br />
The runestones still lay, bounced across where they were. From time to time, her attention waned from her wounds to glance at them. The ground splits, the mouth smiles, the fall is good. Sweet fruit in dead mouths. The love of the enemy. Walk through fire. <br />
<br />
''For once,'' she wondered as she picked off the choice stone from the stone of the blind man seeing, ''wouldn't it be nice if they would say something like, enemy troop movements, allies position, things that would be practical?''<br />
<br />
She arose, picking up her helmet, and putting it on.<br />
<br />
"That only increases your target profile," she froze, her helmet half on. It was like being snuck up on by your own shadow.<br />
<br />
"Aren't you quiet," muttered Taldeer, as she finished placing her helm on, "And aside from that, why should you care what my target profile is like?" It seemed strangely wobbly. She felt along the chin, seeking for the pins that held it in place.<br />
<br />
"It is harder to maintain unit integrity and speed if we draw conflict to ourselves," The Vindicare set down the lasrifle carefully, as he approached Taldeer. Taldeer for her part was doing her best to ignore him.<br />
<br />
"'Unit integrity'? Forgive me for desiring a little independence, but I'd rather not depend upon a sociopathic mon-keigh," she tapped her helm, "I'm going to need this."<br />
<br />
"Really."<br />
<br />
"Yes."<br />
<br />
"It has taken damage."<br />
<br />
"So?"<br />
<br />
The Vindicare stepped forward, as Taldeer turned around slowly. The sky was turning darker by the moment, not that either of them would care, she mused. Was he trying to intimidate her with his height? Well, she thought, gripping her spear, she was not about to be pushed around by something that hadn't even been born by the time she had killed someon- <br />
<br />
The Vindicare reached forward, placing a single finger on the helmet. He pushed it slowly, ninety degrees. She saw the hints of his psychic signature through the wraithbone, as LIIVI stepped back. <br />
<br />
"Did your strap break?" <br />
<br />
"Very well," said the Farseer, removing the helmet and setting it to the ground to her side, "You don't have to demean me." <br />
<br />
"And the... Wings?" <br />
<br />
"They stay," She would not toss away her soulstones so easily. Taldeer raised her head, then glanced to the horizon, "Where do we go then... Suppose you hadn't thought of that, did you?" <br />
<br />
"I have thought of that. Since I have failed my original assignment, and as of yet the planet has not been secured, standard Imperial protocol concerning Xenos Farseers would result in-" <br />
<br />
"They'll hunt me with killteams."<br />
A nod.<br />
<br />
"Awfully kind of them, concerning everything," Taldeer crouched, placing her palm on the ground, "I wonder if it's Sturnn," she muttered, her hands playing through the cold ground, winding and dancing. She closed her eyes for a moment, and nodded. <br />
<br />
"I have a direction," she paused a moment, biting her lower lip before glancing at the assassin, "You are coming with me, right?"<br />
<br />
"Yes."<br />
<br />
"Good." ''They'll have a torch to follow.'' <br />
<br />
The dirt was dispersed, the shell casings buried, and the helmet left hanging from the wretched root that watched, the last drops of blood crystallizing upon it. <br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Mildilv leaned back in the chair, staring at the concrete ceiling. "I estimate half dead." One of his entourage shook his head. <br />
<br />
"Standard morale dispersal, sixty three percent break." <br />
<br />
"Just the officers, maybe two beyond that--" <br />
<br />
"I get it, it was a bad idea to send the men after him, but I thought after all he is--" <br />
<br />
The fingers were wrapped around Alexander's eye and gently tugging before the pain hit his brain, and he was face to face with Mildilv's angry eyes set in the emotionless plastic face. <br />
<br />
"Do NOT end that sentence. You did more than just kill, maim, ruin, demoralize, or damage equipment and personnel, you have ARMED him. With a LASRIFLE." <br />
<br />
Ardrin sniggered. Alexander fell back, his eye watering, his hands snatched over it. <br />
<br />
"What?" <br />
<br />
"It's a lasrifle," muttered Ardrin, "Most armors just get a blister. If he's using that, it's an improvement over that bleeding huge exitus." <br />
<br />
"What does a laser do?" Mildilv turned to Ardrin, shaking a barrel out of his sleeve. <br />
<br />
"Emit-" Began Ardrin, uncertain now as the assassin's attention was turned directly towards him.<br />
<br />
"EMIT HEAT, quite capable of vaporizing water by the by, a main component of our bodies, I believe the heat the average militarized laser puts out is 500? Sure, 500 degrees Celsius, we'll aim low," Mildilv scratched behind his ear, producing a small power pack, bits of fake flesh still hanging off of it. <br />
<br />
"Now, what do you suppose happens when, oh, ten cubic centimeters of human flesh gets evaporated?" The leads plugged into the barrel with ease, as Ardrin made to move out of his chair, finding two pairs of hands on his shoulders, the assassins at his back. <br />
<br />
"Wanna find out?" Said Mildilv taking aim with his ad hoc laser at Ardrin's face, held in place. <br />
<br />
"I-I-I--" <br />
<br />
"You're right!" Mildilv said, thumbing the powerpack, as the barrel warmed to lethality, "I'm expecting an explosion too, as human flesh and blood is evaporated, with no place to escape to but out! Well, usually. If you're lucky, there'll be a hole in your face for it to fly out of it, or maybe this thing'll disperse across the surface, frying the whole thing. I suppose we won't know until the experiment is completed then, huh?" <br />
<br />
Governor-Militant Alexander set his carapace armored arm in front of the barrel. <br />
<br />
"I don't recall giving you permission to fire upon my men." <br />
<br />
"Hmph," Mildilv flicked the barrel, prematurely discharging what weak energy gathered into the arm. The steel glowed red hot, forming a temporary bubble, before fading away. "True. The lasrifle CAN be resisted by armor, a heavy scarf, or even a particularly bad case of fog. But sometimes it blows through both, in the case of lucky moments of inductive heat, using enough juice, or simple Grace of the Emperor. However, an open joint," Mildilv set the barrel down, returning to his seat as the two face dead associates returned to their ranks behind him, "an exposed eye, a rough patchjob...these can all be broken by a lasrifle. A rare feat for even the most accurate of marksmen, but a possibility. And he will never run out of ammo now. Please," Mildilv bit through his false lip, his teeth meeting with a hard click, looked up, and with trepidation in his eyes, "I'm going to have to tell the Inquisitor."<br />
<br />
"You ''said'' he'd just starve to death anyway."<br />
<br />
"Maybe he'll just shoot any new Vindicare we send down to support you, and take their rations? No, no, this is unfortunate, but I do not wish for this damnation on my soul." He stood from the table, false blood dribbling from his false face.<br />
<br />
"Where are you going?" Governor Militant Lukas Alexander rose from his chair, grabbing Mildilv by the shoulder.<br />
<br />
"To die, probably." The disguised man brushed off the Governor's hand, and walked out of the command bunker. <br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
"We are heading towards the Ork lines."<br />
<br />
"I know," The horizon carried heavy clouds, pregnant with rain and storm, ready to match the distant horizon's flashes of light and distant ordnance.<br />
<br />
"Do you have allies among the Orks?" Taldeer gave the Vindicare a look.<br />
<br />
"No. I managed to manipulate some Orks, that is true," Taldeer waved her hand in the air, "I can hardly do that again."<br />
<br />
"The killteams."<br />
<br />
"Yes."<br />
<br />
Like the noise of stones crashing into each other, the war thunder rolled through them. Softly shaking the ground.<br />
<br />
"It's not--"<br />
<br />
"A mission type in the Vindicare Dictum, is to initiate conflicts between two opposing forces. It will be done."<br />
<br />
"Oh."<br />
<br />
A deep resonating cry echoed in the distance, as a rock whizzed end over end in inexpert circles over the heads of the pair.<br />
<br />
"You have experience in this then?"<br />
<br />
"Negat-- No. I mostly dealt with affairs of the state."<br />
<br />
"Which means?"<br />
<br />
"Discouraging sedition and treason. Recently I've been employed in combat support."<br />
<br />
Taldeer nodded, and then picked up step to get beyond the assassin. <br />
<br />
Ahead the choirs of the battlefield roared its welcome. <br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
The Inquisition of the Imperium of Man is quite possibly the most powerful organization across known space. By its whim, heresy is dictated. By its need, armies march. By its judgment, planets burn. The Space Marines, undisputed, mighty warriors, the grandchildren of the Emperor of Man bow to the whims of the Inquisition, even if they do bite and champ at the bit. Inquisitors step the range of Holy Terra's Throne, to the Black Library of the Eldar, to the interior of the Eye of Terror. What would have a man damned and executed for heresy the Inquisitors engage in. They are the unchallenged and ultimate authority. <br />
<br />
A horizontal river fell upon the ten thousand Liberators of Kronus stood to ranks, as the Valkyrie landed on the pad set before them. Full dress, immaculate, even those imprisoned, all stood to their full attention. Not a one wished to be found wanting. <br />
<br />
Governor Militant Alexander stood in the front, waiting unwavering as the dropship settled down before him, whipping water into his eyes and coat. He had to look good. Not just his own fate, but that of his world rested upon it. <br />
<br />
Cherubim fluttered out, carrying multilasers in their bellies, as the nine foot bulk of sacred, artifice armor stepped out. <br />
<br />
Gilded gold wrought across the ceramite plate, inscribed with prayers of benediction and psalms of wrath. At his waist hung a power sword, its wraithbone sheath clacking against the ceramite in the wind of the storm. Lightning flashed, picking out the bionic eyes under the hood. He glanced behind him, as two figures appeared, a techpriest, and someone in a robe--<br />
<br />
Who repulsed the Governor. "No," he whispered, staring, as the cowl of the robe turned left, and right mechanically as it proceeded down the steps. <br />
<br />
The Inquisitor glanced across the assembled ten thousand veterans of the Kronus Liberators, and turned aside to walk to Alexander, who was frozen in terror. He had felt this before, this terror that sapped at the very soul. <br />
<br />
Lukas's reverie was interrupted by the Inquisitor's hand. <br />
<br />
"Get rid of them," He grabbed Lukas's shoulder, "And cease your cowardice." <br />
<br />
The nausea grew as the abomination drew closer, maintaining a respectful step behind the Inquisitor. Lukas nodded, every hair standing on end, and turned to his Commissar, whispering in his ear, "Dismiss the men."<br />
<br />
The Commissar started bellowing out orders, as Lukas led the Inquisitor back to the command bunker, ruing the treachery of the Vindicare.<br />
<br />
<br />
===Chapter Five===<br />
<br />
<br />
"It's unprecedented," The Inquisitor said, as he crowded into the bunker, staring at the consoles, the Techpriest having taken a seat and started rattling off the status and location of the rogue assassin, "Well, at least for this temple," the Inquisitor shot a glare at Lukas, who sat in the corner, rubbing his forehead, "You do understand-" <br />
<br />
''Your life is forfeit if you breathe a word of this to anyone not cleared to know it,'' thought the Governor Militant.<br />
<br />
"Your life is forfeit if you dare to breathe a single word of this to anyone not cleared to know it."<br />
<br />
"Right."<br />
<br />
"And the Farseer?"<br />
<br />
"No one knows. We had sent out a scouting party, but they have yet to return."<br />
<br />
"Hmph. He's heading towards a combat zone," murmured the Inquisitor, ceramite finger tracing the route of his assassin errant on the watch screens.<br />
<br />
"Yes, a team of Kasrkin are holed up resisting Orks a little beyond the mountains, I've dispatched some men to--"<br />
<br />
"Call them back."<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry? I can't see how it would harm--"<br />
<br />
"We have the greatest opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, Governor. First, as an Inquisitor, I know well the way the common man thinks; even if you DO save the men, and by some miracle they all survive, they shall criticize you for even leaving them in that situation, and I desire your administration to remain stable without any further scandal. Second, I require that one of the most secret orders the Imperium has ever known to ''remain a secret'', and beyond that, that they ''can'' be corrupted must remain a secret." <br />
<br />
The baleful, flickering green glow immersed the inquisitor's grin, under the red glow of the bionics. His fingers were playing with the handle of the bolt pistol. <br />
<br />
Lukas stared at the Inquisitor, locking eyes best as he could and slammed his fist down on the comm button, "Ardrin! Tell Yoland to recall the men, and that I have rescinded the order. Rather--" <br />
<br />
''Call out the Basilisks,'' Mouthed the Inquisitor. "Call out Tennyson's basi-" ''All of them.'' "All. All of them. All of the basilisks." <br />
<br />
Ardrin's reply cut out with a squawk as Lukas flicked off the button. <br />
<br />
"Give me a show, Governor," Said the Inquisitor, as he swept out, his retainers following. <br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
The sea was far off, in the horizon. In the horizon, it was chopping, surf sloshing about, but above it was a storm, thunder and lightning wrapping around and around and around--<br />
<br />
This wasn't right. She shouldn't be doing this, she wasn't looking ahead right now, to be sure, she could always feel the ebb and flow of fate running along her ankles in the back of her mind, but she shouldn't be ''seeing'' it unless she wanted to. <br />
<br />
The hunger. Behind her. <br />
<br />
She turned, and beheld the glittering dust of spirit stones. Beneath a burning sun, they danced like embers above the bodies of eldar, common and noble, all with their hands plaintively in the air. The air, beset with gasps for breath and whispered pleas, as under their bodies, roiled the dark and cracked ground, flesh and blood growing under them, mouths spawning again and again, coiling like cancer across and over the bodies. The gasps became screams, and the whispers became cries for help. <br />
<br />
Blood shot out in squirts like bullets, staining and stinging Taldeer's face. Drills of flesh and bone, rammed down, again and again in the mass, a sick parody of sexual congress. One, a bonesinger was propped up, an organ set before her, as she was puppeteered to play to the scene, arms wrapped around hers, snapping softly like acorns under foot. Eyes grew like weeds, wrapping and rising, staring upon the grisly scene. <br />
<br />
''It waits,'' said a voice that managed to skip her ears. ''There's no one left, but you.'' echoed the foreign thought, as the Farseer tried to spin, to turn away, but always found the same scene going. <br />
<br />
''And you're the climax. ''<br />
<br />
The pink flesh moved on, rolling toward Taldeer, leaving broken, hollow, desecrated bodies, no two the same. <br />
<br />
She awoke weeping. <br />
<br />
They were maybe nine kilometers away from the Ork battlefront, when the Primary had passed out. She had still walked seven steps more, but the sound of a quick slowdown of heartbeat, change in breathing, and missteps grated on the previous light footed rhythm that she had displayed. <br />
<br />
On step six, she was beginning to fall, and LIIVI began to move. He caught her on step seven. Her black hair fell around his hands, as he carefully lowered her to the ground. He felt the minute stresses her breathing put upon her suit. The small strains her muscle went through, as she slowly fell into REM sleep, and her body relaxed control. The warmth of her through his gloves. Her eyes, shut, her lips, twitching, whispering. <br />
<br />
He wasn't sure why, but he held her a little more tightly at that moment. For just one moment. Before lifting her to his arms, carefully, and moving on. When water started to pour from her tear ducts, he was six kilometers away. He didn't know Eldar could lacrimate. He glanced around, infrared spectrum. Some small pockets of warmth were out there. Only one within a kilometer and a half. He carefully set down Taldeer on her side, before shooting the rat. <br />
<br />
He had seen people comfort others, when they had commenced the standard grieving patterns. He had seen a lot of grieving, rarely before the mission, but often after. He had watched them, cling and cry on one another as their beloved died, or they bore witness to the Emperor's wrath. <br />
<br />
Her hand wiggled about, scratching at the ground through her gloves. He reached out, carefully, and took hold of it. She calmed down almost immediately, as the frenzy of motion beneath her eyelids increased. <br />
<br />
That wasn't that hard, he thought, as he kneeled down next to her. Her hair was in her eyes, wet and plastered to her face. He reached down, leaning in-- <br />
<br />
Her eyes snapped open. <br />
<br />
"They're all dead." <br />
<br />
She knew it. Slaanesh had claimed many, some had been saved, but the fact remained-- <br />
<br />
She was the last Eldar on Kronus. To be sure, that had been the last stand, the main base and the first landing zone that had fallen to Imperial forces. She should have thought of the practicality of it. But she had held out hope, that there was some pocket that had passed the purges of all the other empires and interests that were on this planet. But they were gone. Had she known that, when she ran off, drawing the humans away from the evacuation, ensuring the safety of the survivors? Or was she still deluding herself to some hope.<br />
<br />
Her hand was caught on something. She looked, as LIIVI released his hand from hers, and drew it back. <br />
<br />
"Are you," the spymask stared at her for a time, before continuing, "Ready for moving?" <br />
<br />
"I'm fine, I," her hand ran down her side, between the ribs, to where her wound had opened again, "I-I could just...Use a hand." <br />
<br />
''Pathetic. He is an assassin, who disobeyed orders from the people that brainwashed him. Why should he help you, with that plaintive plea for pity?'' <br />
<br />
His hand took hers. Her arm was slipped over his shoulder. She leaned on him. They walked. <br />
<br />
He was warm. <br />
<br />
The rain killed the smoke, but one could see the black columns spearing the ground across the field. The central bunker, was now nothing more than a mash of concrete, occasionally spattered red. For now, the Orks rested in the only way Orks could, jeering, fighting, yelling at one another to get moving, get fixing, and get fighting again. Taldeer glanced across, sensing the psychic miasma and overwhelming presence. <br />
<br />
The WAAAAGH! was upon these aliens. They were set on a hillside, overlooking the lumbering mass of the Orks. Thousands of them. With Emperor knew how many grots, noted the Vindicare as he picked out the scuttling shapes and the noises of the servile orkoids. <br />
<br />
"Wish those kill teams of yours would show up sooner," muttered Taldeer. <br />
<br />
"What then?" Together, they had been putting off this question. What they would do? And it was they were now, they couldn't help it. She couldn't help it. <br />
<br />
She needed him. <br />
<br />
"I...I hadn't thought of that," She glanced down, "First, we'll think of these things." <br />
<br />
Down in the pit, as Uzgob Nekkstompa, a Nob and a 'ard boy to boot wit' more bullets in 'im than a shoota perked up. A scent was in his nose. Strange to fink of it actually, now that, true to Nob form, a momentary thought went through his 'ead. His nose had been blasted to Gork long ago, replaced by an iron plate to stop the bleeding. Though suspicious, one could not deny the scent, up and through the smoke, he peered, his bionik peeper whirring and sparking as it zoomed with the focus of the nob. Somethin' was up among the rocks. <br />
<br />
Somethin' unorky.<br />
<br />
"OI! LOOKIT THAT!" <br />
<br />
As the faces turned, it was like watching a bright green fungal bloom, as shining green faces turned, following the raised claw of one of the bigger Orks. <br />
<br />
LIIVI glanced over to Taldeer, as she hissed an inhalation to say something. He sprinted, and pushed her out from behind the rock, and down the hill as it was shattered and pulverized into powder as well over a thousand guns, approximately thirty rockets, six laspistols, a bolter, and three thrown grots rained death upon it. <br />
<br />
The Vindicare checked her. No broken bones, but she was bruised, and looked a mite angry, "We need to get lower. To the trenches," advised LIIVI, checking his weaponry.<br />
<br />
"Go towards the hail of bullets?" <br />
<br />
"CEA- SEEZ- STOP SHOOTIN THAT BIT YOU GROT SWILLIN MAGGOTS!" Shouted a nob, with a loudspeaker implanted in his throat. The bullets swayed, searching and spreading across the hill, knocking down what few stubborn trees grew out of the rock, and eliminating anything that claimed to be more than a foot tall. <br />
<br />
"Alright, into the trenches, me in front, you in back, cover me." <br />
<br />
They ran like mercury. She breathed a prayer to Khaela Mensha Khaine to guide her through the coming battle, while the Vindicare made several, fatal, statements with his Exitus to what few orks were in the trench they headed for. <br />
<br />
"THEYZE COMIN’ STRAIGHT FOR US! READY YORE CHOPPAS BOYS, ITS TIME FOR SOME FUN!" The Orks roared their appreciation.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Mother dirt and father mud embraced the two as they splashed into the trench, a final wave of fire whizzing over their heads.<br />
<br />
"Now what?" Taldeer looked to the Vindicare.<br />
<br />
"I was following you," The Vindicare reacts to the primary- usually to shoot them, but the assumption in this case that the Xeno knew what it was doing.<br />
<br />
"Oh," ''shit.'' "Do your bunkers have underground complexes?"<br />
<br />
"Depends upon the Enginseers. But they never connect into the trenches."<br />
<br />
"Great, well I suppose we're all just--"<br />
<br />
Thirty kilometers away, someone shouts fire. <br />
<br />
A bare minute later, inside of the valley above the trenches, three hundred incendiary rounds burst, in the air and on the ground. Bright, white, light interrupts farseer Taldeer. <br />
<br />
And the world around the two becomes little more than fuel.<br />
<br />
===Chapter Six===<br />
<br />
''The Incendiary: Tactica and Proper Oblations<br />
<br />
Honored and hallowed be the Incendiary, most cleansing of the Imperium's weapons. Doled out by holy flamer, delivered by blessed shell, released from our pure skies. In all forms, in all ways, it is the Most Magnanimous Emperor's love that is on display here; to give opportunity long for the Enemy to confess his sins, to be burned free of their taint. How can one not marvel at a God Emperor so kind? <br />
<br />
Application and Distribution of the Emperor's Love <br />
<br />
Concerning when one desires to give the Infidel forgiveness at a range, one must review these tenets in deploying the Mercy of the Imperator. 1) Proper Prayers and Devotion; to ensure Proper Phosphorus and Detonation! 2) Launch a volley of the Emperor's High Explosive Wrath first; to open the sinful timbers and flammables of the Heathen (For maximum mercy, limit rounds to ensure only injury and immobility for those struck) 3) Send the Emperor's Mercy (Take care in setting the timer; you desire at minimum a seventy percent airburst for a correct Storm of Penance) 4) After fifteen minutes (Enough time for a confession), deploy shrapnel rounds to eliminate any who would attempt to halt the Emperor's Forgiveness with mere blasphemous water. <br />
<br />
Depending on the Storm of Penance, your soldiers may have to wait anywhere from one to five bells to deploy and liberate the souls from their accursed shells.'' <br />
<br />
-- Section of Kronus Archconfessor Militade's "The Emperor in the Munitions: A Veteran's Guide to Proper Faith in Artillery", currently subject to Ecclesiastical review. <br />
<br />
Ardrin carefully set the roughly tied together, hand written pamphlet down, half fearing that it might spontaneously turn "Merciful" upon him. It was, regrettably, the best text that he had upon this subject with him. He hadn't really worked with artillery all that much until now. Someone had to bear the Inquisitor's whims while Lukas led the army.<br />
<br />
Three hundred smoking barrels stared at the sky, sizzling in the dribbling rain. Fifty rounds HE, two hundred and fifty rounds IN. Timers varied from fifteen to seventeen point five seconds. The flashes beyond the mountain range signed success back to the crews of the Basilisks, loading in the next volley. <br />
<br />
"Three hundred incendiaries," Ardrin wiped the oil slick water from the pictoslate, trying to glean what was going on from the skull servitor, "And this time, cut the timers to a straight sixteen seconds, I think that's optimum airburst." <br />
<br />
A chorus grunted agreement. Ardrin glanced over the command chimera's top again, staring out to the mountain pass far away. No firestorm yet, but this next volley would handle it. He shut the hatch as he went down. <br />
<br />
The incredible bulk of the Inquisitor's armor and equipment took up a full third of the passenger space, and the Inquisitor's conscripted retinue filled up the rest of it, forcing Ardrin to stand leaning next to the door to the driver's room. The Inquisitor himself, now that Ardrin got to see, was actually rather scrawny. A humble cassock, far from the glinting lesson in waste covered the man's slight frame, what pieces weren't removed and replaced with gleaming steel. <br />
<br />
"I heard the initial bombardment," the Inquisitor said with a fond smile, disturbing beneath the clicking ocular implants, "It sounded like the fanfare of saints. Have they hit?"<br\><br />
"Yes sir. The Orks won't know what hit them." <br\><br />
"And the traitor?" <br\><br />
"If he isn't incinerated in the next volley, he'll wish he had been."<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Artillery was supposed to be a non-issue, or an advantage when taught in the Vindicare temples. Admittedly, rare would be the primary or secondary who would stand still when being hit with an artillery bombardment, but at least they would be out in the open, and what was one finger snap in an inferno of noise? Serving as spotters, eliminating artillery crews, timing shots, all these things, the Vindicare had been taught and drilled. Reacting to being surrounded by exploding steel? <br />
<br />
Cover ears, open mouth, find cover. <br />
<br />
He was in cover, inside a muddy trench that was shaking and spattering all over the place. Already he could feel the tensing of his mask and implants, countering the noises and trying to counter the dizzying amount of shocks. He was fine, so long as nothing hit him. And her? <br />
<br />
She was down on the ground, hands clamped over her ears, long hair spattered with muck sticking to her face, biting her lower lip. She was quivering. <br />
<br />
His hand slid away from his head, heading for hers, when her eyes snapped open, and she grabbed his hand. Her lips parted, shaping the word 'move' through the thunder. <br />
<br />
Their hands held together, they slipped forward, as a white phosphorus shell landed behind them, evaporating what little moisture had been there. Maybe ten more feet, before they fell again, this time into a partial hole that a grot had dug, before forming the wallpaper. <br />
<br />
They pressed together in the momentary sanctuary. Dirt and mud slid down in rivulets around the pair, as they held one another, the world around them flying into the air.<br />
<br />
It must have lasted maybe, ten, twenty minutes at the most. Ten to twenty minutes of fire and thunder. Of that time, the moments where they were together in the side of the trench must only have been an instant. It seemed an hour of racing hearts. Running fingers. Fluttering heart beats. Warmth through cold mud and napalm heat. <br />
<br />
Then it was over. The shaking stopped, the thunder stopped ringing in their ears, and LIIVI reluctantly let slip Taldeer through his arms. Water and sweat reflected phosphorus fires rising on the horizon, as she leaned back, on her knees, looking down for a moment. <br />
<br />
The roaring laughter of Orks snapped her eyes back on the Vindicare. <br />
<br />
"The shells, again, this time higher." <br />
<br />
"Airburst," Assassin again, he took out his pistol, hands running memorized lines of maintenance, cleaning what little made it through the holster, "Fragmentation?" "No. Fire. Lots of it." <br />
<br />
He stood, stopping for a moment, and uncharacteristically awkwardly reached his hand to her, a second too late as she stood. "Cover. The bunker," Taldeer stared down the maze of trenches, in her mind's eye, dark storms flashing thunder on the ocean horizon, "We better hurry." <br />
<br />
They stepped lightly through the mud, surrounded by dim shapes of Orks waving in the flames. For the moment, the trenches were clear, and the Vindicare's mind focused through the sights of his pistol, a fresh magazine topped off inside. <br />
<br />
Above, the sky rained water as a consolation. <br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
"Azrael, loaded." <br\><br />
"Sixty guns loaded, my lord." <br\><br />
"Hold until they all load," The Inquisitor placed his cowl on his head, and stepped up the ladder to the top of the Chimera. <br\><br />
"Belial, loaded." <br\><br />
"Uriel, loaded." <br\><br />
300 basilisks. One driver, one loader, one commander. Nine hundred men, at his beck and call. Nine hundred souls saved from damnation. Inquisitor Madek's mouth tightened, drawing his lips back in a crude curve.<br\> <br />
"Raziel, loaded." <br\><br />
"Lightbringer, loaded. That makes all guns loaded. Your orders sir?" <br />
<br />
Ardrin waited below, as Inquisitor Madek sat at the side of the Chimera, happily staring across the field. <br />
<br />
"Fire," whispered Madek. <br />
<br />
Three hundred shrieking packages of flame filled the sky. <br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Uzgob Nekkstompa wheeled about, bellowing, a squealing grot in one hand and his shoota in the other, trying his hardest to make more noise than a warband of Orks set on fire, and variously hitting and shooting each other. <br />
<br />
Needless to say, he was hardly successful. Not even pointing out sum unorky softies running through the trenches roused more than a handful of lazy shots and rockets. Uzgob Nekkstompa, though a 'ard boy, was no Gorgutz 'Ead 'Unter when it came to rallying the fractious orks. <br />
<br />
So, figured Nekkstompa, him being canny and whatnot, he should go out, and 'unt some 'eads. If Gorgutz could get an army behind him by waving around some skullz, why couldn't he? <br />
<br />
The characteristic shriek of incoming basilisk shells only proved to Nekkstompa that his course of action was in the right, as he barreled through the flames after the pair fleeing for the bunker. <br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
The tiniest of taps, a spray of mud, and another step was taken by Farseer Taldeer down the trench. Her lungs ached, and she could feel the scrape of crystal clots inside her armor, but she had to move. A storm would come soon, and she needed to be in port then. An ork stumbled into the trench, fire dripping from him, a gun in his hand. A sharp sound, and a rush of air from behind, and its wrist is reduced to bloody scraps. <br />
<br />
Maybe he wasn't as fast as her, she thought hesitantly. Maybe he was keeping her in front of his gun because he didn't trust her. That moment in the trench- <br />
<br />
Did not merit reflection, she thought, as the tell tale shrieks of artillery sounded over the hills. The ramp was just bare steps ahead, to the shattered bunker. <br />
<br />
LIIVI had already consumed the first magazine when he saw the bunker, and Taldeer moving into it. He was just stepping out of the trench, when his head suddenly felt like not moving. <br />
<br />
"Oi fink I can kitch 'er jus' foine, 'oomie," The Vindicare was thrown down into the muck, as the mass of green muscle clanked past him, "You'll just have to siddown there and hannle the heat for a bit, 'fore I come back. Hope you'll have a lil' bit of fight leff in ya." <br />
<br />
LIIVI managed to see the Ork nob ram into the bunker, cracking the concrete sides, before the air and sky caught alight. <br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
"No other species in the galaxy has had quite the relationship that man has to fire. The Eldar have used it in war, and left it behind, on occasion to bring it forth, or to refer to it in poetry interchangeably with molten metal. Chaos draws inspiration to fire only insofar as mankind has influenced them; and even then, warpfire is its own entity, something diseased and gnawing, generating none of the warmth of a comfortable flame. Tau barely understand what fire IS, considering it a dangerous weapon; their fire caste serves in duty and shame, not pride. Orks are the second to men when enjoying the fires; but even then, they hold no passion to refine and craft the flames which they like to see and feel. <br />
<br />
But man... Man has a love for fire. Napalm, white phosphorus, promethium, oil, gasoline, meltas, plasmas, firestorms, incendiaries, firepower, fireline, flamethrower, fireteam, firefighter, the flames of war, fire, fire, fire. What else could be said to have benefited as much from man as fire? What other element has been defended, nursed, tutored, fed, and loved more than fire? Our cities, our books, our people, our enemies, our friends, our dead, our living, our greatest works and most heinous feats; all of them, fed to the ever hungry flames," Inquisitor Madek chuckled, turning to Ardrin, "And there it is," he pointed to the roiling light beyond the mountains, "Years of brilliant minds worked on that one. For warfare, for country, for humanity? No. We wanted to see what fire, raw unchained flame, could do." <br />
<br />
"Yes... Yes sir," Ardrin stared, as a dark angry cloud formed, crackling with thunder, waves of hungry lapping flame roiling and struggling against the rain, spewing ash high. <br />
<br />
"Return the basilisks to the Governor. I am happy. Put forth my symbol of office, and take me closer. I'll need to speak to the victors." <br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Taldeer crawled forward, coughing, eyes watering, as a wind pulled past her and heat radiated at her. She had to get down the stairs, she thought, as she felt for the steps. Ragged, broken. She couldn't breathe. <br />
She fell, into the dark and jagged rock. She tried to control it as best as she could, her hands out. Eyes closed. Lungs burning. <br />
<br />
By the time she reached the bottom, the sting had left her lungs a bit. Flakes of burnt paper danced in swirls around her as she came to a rest on a bed of shell casings and ash. She glanced up, the steel door far above, the wheel lock handle firmly shut. She reached up, grasping the steel. She closed her eyes, in brief thanks that it was cool to the touch. She heard thumps on the steps, and involuntarily breathed easy. LIIVI survived. <br />
<br />
The ocean screamed. Her eyes bolted open. <br />
<br />
Her hands shot out, leaving the spear on the ground, grabbing the wheel, pulling with both hands, up, up and away in a swirl of ashes, from the powerclaw that tore up the concrete. She glanced up, bracing her feet against the ceiling, seeing for a moment the murderous red glint of the eyes of an Ork, a grin displayed in what pieces of his face weren't iron. <br />
<br />
"'Allo poinny ear," The double barreled, four magazined pistol clacked a challenge, "I loike yer 'ead." <br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
How does one survive a firestorm? <br />
<br />
Dig. <br />
<br />
Dig deep. The sizzling of the rainwater hitting the thermal bubble above. The shriek of the cremated orks. The sting of the infrared radiation burning the skin within his suit. Dig until you don't feel it. <br />
Mud ran through his fingers and slammed into his rifle. The N20- <br />
<br />
He pulled the cover out of his pants pocket, and held it close to himself, ignoring the pain. The Hellfire round, the Shieldbreaker. They'd have to be covered. His pistol was already in the mud that was baking to clay, the rifle halfway after it. He smelled his flesh cooking, as he clung to it, crouched hugging the side of the trench. The red and white waving around him, the shadows of orks rushing this way and that, the ashes shearing across past him. <br />
<br />
He would burn or live, based on the whims of thermodynamics. <br />
<br />
Through the dim roar of oxygen being devoured, noises could be picked up. Orkish ammunition cooking off. Grots squealing. An argument, laughter.<br />
<br />
A lilting voice. <br />
<br />
A call. A voice more suited to song than terror. <br />
<br />
The fire swept through the trench, greedy and hungry, roaring challenge to dissent. Hairline cracks began to appear in his visor. <br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Outside, fire whistled. Taldeer was short of breath, and clinging upside down to a steel door bracing herself to the ceiling certainly wasn't helping. The Ork, mass of muscle and steel he was, didn't look the least bit taxed, as he lifted his power claw, clacking the wicked edges together. A spark flew. <br />
<br />
"The... the world outside this bunker is incinerating... And you want to claim my HEAD?" She put up a hand carefully, delaying, "Listen, ork, I-" <br />
<br />
"Oim Uzgob Nekkstompa, yur PoinnyEar SoontobeNekkStomped, and dat's as much talkin as I can stan'. Gimme a foight!" The Ork lashed out with his powerclaw, as Taldeer folded up, cursing the human who HAD to stab her in the most important muscle group. Sparks flew as steel tore, and the Ork pulled his claw back, lifting his pistol, yelling gleefully as it began to bark and kick.<br />
<br />
Ricochet filled the hall, as Taldeer rolled forward, grabbing her spear, her nervous system following the skeins of the warp. She relaxed, her muscles flowing and jerking like a marionette on the strings. Her hair, caught, slipped, and flashed around her. The ocean tide carried her around the Orkish ammunition, as her fingers ran and slipped along the wraithbone runes. <br />
<br />
Her spear struck powerclaw. The Ork gripped, and pulled, bringing Taldeer face to face with her enemy. <br />
<br />
"HIT ME!" Roared the Ork. He was granted his wish, her foot whipping up into his face, aided by the leverage of her caught spear, her whole body behind the blow, knocking the ork back into the steel door. <br />
<br />
The Ork grinned, spat a tooth. Barely phased by her full force. His pistol raised, with a slurred, "Juss' the right distinse," dribbling around its teeth. <br />
<br />
Just the right distance to spray her with automatic fire, which she couldn't dodge in the narrow end of the hall. She gave a sad grin. The ocean was calm. <br />
<br />
Her singing spear batted aside the blood spray, as the Ork was struck clean in the shoulder untouched by bioniks. The Ork glanced to his right shoulder, as with a crack, his clavicle snapped, sending the arm to the ground. <br />
<br />
"Well thass jus’ queer," muttered the Ork. <br />
<br />
For a moment, some of the ashes floating in the air were illuminated with a red line of light. A sizzle, as the ork's exposed left knee cap was bathed in photons. Then it exploded.<br />
<br />
The Ork fell over, shrieking, as the Vindicare let loose the empty power pack, slapping a new one into the muddy mess of a lasrifle. <br />
<br />
"You were expecting me?" LIIVI stepped into the room, lasrifle at the hip, covering the obscenity slinging nob. <br\><br />
"I am a farseer. Surely you'd've been briefed on my capabilities," she glanced over, keeping her face still and an eye on the ork. LIIVI looked unharmed. But there was something... "Mmm," The Vindicare stepped forward carefully. The suit, was designed to be fireproof. This did not help the skin underneath it that much. "Are you-" <br\><br />
"The door's open," The Vindicare tabbed the lasrifle to ‘Full discharge’, and shot another blast at the Ork's other arm, "You can take sanctuary in there. I'll be along soon, I have to recover my equipment." <br />
<br />
The door was a mangled mess, nearly torn off its hinges. But it was insulated, and would serve better than nothing. <br />
<br />
"It's still on fire out there." "Most of the fuel in the area has been extinguished, the storm has ended. I should still be capable of being predictable when you're in trouble." <br />
<br />
LIIVI crept out, heading for his supplies, when he turned towards the sky. Streaking meteors dropped in the distance. Meteors with atmospheric brakes. <br />
<br />
===Chapter Seven===<br />
<br />
Taldeer stepped for the dark, rubbing her side. At least this time, the blood wasn't clotting crystal. Or maybe that was a bad thing. And LIIVI's comment-<br />
<br />
Was he, it upset? It was hard to tell. And more than that, it was hard to tell if she should even care or not. <br />
<br />
"I'll be predictable," she mumbled, stepping through the hatch. She received a vicious kick to the shins. <br />
<br />
Hopping back, grabbing her leg, she stared down at the ork, who had managed to prop himself up against the door with stumps and a leg, who was giving her the glaring of a life time.<br />
<br />
"C'mon poinny ear! See if'n yoo kin take me wivout yer pet 'oomie!" <br />
<br />
The wraithbone spear communicated the displeasure with the ork's inability to suffer from bloodloss. The leg flew free, and Taldeer kicked the still yammering torso to the side, and sealed the door shut behind her. <br />
<br />
Well, she thought bitterly, soon he'll be gone anyway. And she won't care. Her people's fate depended upon her. Who could care about one mon-keigh when the potential lives of thousands of Eldar, and possibly the galaxy depended upon her being alive? <br />
<br />
She sat heavily against the wall, and slid down it. Just keep telling yourself that, taunted a little voice in her head, that you can get another chance to make up for the hundreds lost in this useless mission. <br />
Keep lying to yourself. <br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
From his vantage on the hillside, Captain Diocletian could see the Orks were shattered by the Guard's bombardment, mostly, true to the Inquisitor's predictions. No Guardsmen were in sight too, a relief (at least to Captain Diocletian), just as the Inquisitor promised. And the Grey Knights were marching alongside their fellow marines... Just as the Inquisitor promised. <br />
<br />
One could ask what they were doing, marching upon mere xenos, but Captain Diocletian already knew the answer that would not be given: they were there to watch for heresy among the Blood Ravens. <br />
"For the Emperor," he whispered, before stepping down, to join his fellows in securing the pass. His eyes lingered on the ringing grey armored soldiers, nemesis halberds at the ready. <br />
<br />
LIIVI stepped back from the trench, his visor clicking unhealthily as it zoomed back in and reverted to standard. He gathered his things, and sprinted back to the bunker, as Astartes and Ork met in battle. <br />
<br />
Brother Onus, of the Grey Knights, cocked his head. The xenos before him fell back on the point of his halberd, spasming and shrieking, before turning into ash. Contemptibly, he flicked the sparking instrument of the Emperor’s wrath. A waste, for this precious blade to be used on contemptuous xenos. <br />
<br />
Something… A purity seal rustled on his arm. A rune gently creaked. Through the smoke and vaporized mud, he smelled the foul stench of the warp on the air for a moment. The bunker. <br />
<br />
Through the flame and the bullets, Brother Onus starts forward, stalking his prey. A prayer of thanks on his lips.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Light from the fires drifts through what flecks of ash remained disturbed as LIIVI stepped down to the shelter. The Vindicare reaches for the door, then hesitates. Through the gash, illuminated by a single dim bulb above her was the primary. Staring into space, head leaning against her shoulder. A black lock of her hair straying over her eye, down her lips, over her pulsing jugular, the adrenaline crash had struck her, he wouldn't even have to use a bullet, just quick and painless. If he had to kill her. <br />
<br />
He shouldn't be thinking this. Some part of him knew. He opened the door. <br />
<br />
"LIIVI," she started looking up, "Listen, I have something-" <br\><br />
"No time," The Vindicare shut the door behind him, shoving the lock into place, <br\><br />
"Evacuation necessary, conflict is starting anew. Space marines are far more thorough than orks," LIIVI took his rifle from the shoulder, and rammed a clip home into the internal magazine. It was still dirty. He had to hope it wouldn't jam. <br />
<br />
"At least they'll be distracted by the orks." <br\><br />
"Tunnels usually lead to Imperial outposts. Judging by the directions the marines came from, we probably won't come into hostile contacts. Marines don't have the forces necessary to mount garrisons in this province yet." <br\><br />
"That's, that's great, LIIVI," smiled Taldeer. <br />
<br />
"Come?" LIIVI looked at her, sitting. He reached out his hand, after a moment's hesitation. <br />
<br />
She took it, regret filling her mind. The ocean current was pulling her, no matter what she wished..<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Captain Diocletian was disappointed. This was a cleanup operation, little else. <br />
<br />
"Engage at will, there's no challenge here," the order carried across the combeads, as the marines separated, many putting aside their bolters in favor of monomolecular knives. No need to waste good ammunition on undesirable scum. <br />
<br />
Craters, fires still raggedly burning. Little else remained. He had to hand it to the Guardsman, give them artillery, and they can- <br />
<br />
His shoulder pauldron shattered. Captain Diocletian frowned, and glanced over. Across the way, he saw a grot duck into a trench. He sighed, and took out his bolt pistol. <br />
A tink, and a bullet ricocheted off his arm. And he heard a strange call. <br />
<br />
"Mo' dakka." Another voice picked it up, and it became a chant. "Modakka, modakka, modakka, modakka," By this time, Captain Diocletian had eased back, and marines across the field picked up their heads, staring, the voices seeming to come from everywhere and melting together. "ModakkamodakkamodakkamodakkamoDAKKAMODAKKADAKKADAKKDAKKADAKKA" <br />
<br />
Across the trench, green heads popped up, one or more guns accompanying each. <br />
<br />
Captain Diocletian gave a grim grin. No atonement for idle waste today. “Engage them, meet your foe,” he started forward, pounding across the cracked and dried mud, chainsword lifted, “And sing praise to the Emperor, for letting the enemy wet your blade today!” <br />
<br />
Brother Onus stopped in the trench, cocking his head. Orders to charge. He saw several of his brothers obediently marching back, to fight xenos. He did not care. He had come to hunt the Enemy. Not to waste sacred relics on enemies material. <br />
<br />
He stood in front of the ruined bunker. The Enemy had been here. <br />
<br />
He stepped down the stairs, as the war started anew behind him, and the guns drowned out the thunder of the storm above. <br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
The rain was pouring down the steps like a waterfall when the Assassin and the Witch came to the end of the hall. The door was knocked off its hinges, a guardsman broken on it. They carefully stepped over him, avoiding signs of passing by. <br />
<br />
The outpost had been manned by two men, both now dead. The dead ork in the center of the floor, strangled by a wire spoke of their courage. <br />
<br />
The rain outside had rallied against the fire, attempting to drown and smother it for defying the weather, even as treacherous lightning aided and abetted the enemy. <br />
<br />
This is it, thought Taldeer, sparing a glance for LIIVI. Just a while more. <br />
<br />
"Let's head out," she said, "Quickly, come on, we can get moving," She reaches for him when he raises his hand, and freezes. <br />
<br />
"Wait. I heard something." <br />
<br />
Clang. <br />
<br />
"Back there, in the tunnel." <br />
<br />
Clang. Clang. Clang. It picked up speed. Clang. <br />
<br />
Like an iron gavel pronouncing judgment. The pair, stepped back and out of the outpost, the Vindicare raising his rifle. The rain and wind swept along, spattering the two in cold, as the outpost glowed with inner light. <br />
<br />
Clang. There was a scraping, cracking sound, as something moved against the ceiling. Clang. The light grew closer, and there was a faint hum. Clang. Then it was there.<br />
<br />
The Grey Knight stood in the doorway, as LIIVI and Taldeer stared up from the bottom of the hill, blazing and glowing with the light of his manifest wrath.<br />
<br />
----<br />
[[Image:LCB Pursued.jpg|thumb|right]]<br />
"FOUL ONE," the voice resonated, deep, echoing through the armor, "THE STINK OF THE WARP IS UPON YOU," The Grey Knight stepped forward, and out of the outpost, setting his halberd behind him. It crackled in anticipation. <br />
<br />
This is it. <br />
<br />
To her left, the Vindicare, the mon-keigh tensed. She could see it all. His finger touching the trigger, the weapon jam.<br />
<br />
A ton of blessed ceramite artificer steel pounded down, one leg slamming into Kronus's flesh after another, tearing great gouts of soil up. <br />
<br />
This is it. The Mon-Keigh, he'll reach for his pisto- <br />
<br />
"Taldeer!" An unexpected hand shoved her away, a note of panic in his voice, now for this moment bizarrely familiar, "Get away from he-" <br />
<br />
The Grey Knight's back hand slash, the halberd, tugging into his flesh, lifting him up into the air. <br />
<br />
A disposed toy. Mon-Keigh. "SCUM!" The mon-keigh, it's usefulness expended. Living the moment it was fated. The mon-keigh... falling. The mon-keigh's blood. On her face. The mon-keigh- <br />
"M-Mon-Keigh..." She shouldn't care.<br />
<br />
"THIS IS THE JUDGMENT OF THE RIGHTEOUS!" The Grey Knight, stood over his corpse. LIIVI's corpse. Raising his halberd. <br />
<br />
She shouldn't care. She shouldn't be hurt. She shouldn't look in his vainly struggling form. <br />
<br />
"KNOW REDEMPTION IN- *HRNNK*?" <br />
<br />
The light blazed, and a keening noise could be heard, as runes of warding, protection, and holiness brightened. <br />
<br />
"W-W-WHAT WITCHCRAFT- IS THIS?" <br />
<br />
His arm, his arm, it was bending, bending the wrong way. He stumbled back, struggling, to execute the traitor. Something cracked. His middle finger waved, popped out and broken. <br />
<br />
"EL-ELDAR?!" His felt lost touch of the ground, and he felt the armor dragging at him. His left arm waved around, as he pulled on the bolter trigger, firing, uselessly somewhere behind him. <br />
<br />
He heard his seals cracking. The sacred runes breaking. His arm, broken, in three places. His neck, pulling, pulling. He spun, slowly in the air, and then suddenly fell. Crack, headfirst into the ground. Again. Again, again- <br />
<br />
Snap. <br />
<br />
The invisible grip loosed, and he fell, sliding down the hill. A rather heavy, well accoutered mon-keigh ragdoll. <br />
<br />
Taldeer stood, stumbling, slackening staring, breathing in and out evenly. The cacophony, the snickering peals of the warp faded away from her mind. She had risked so much, and for what- <br />
<br />
"Liivi!" She rushed forward, running over to the fallen assassin, "Please, please, Liivi, get up human, get up!" The blade had entered the small intestine, and worked its way up, searing and tearing as it went. She drew her hand away, and found blood and ashes. <br />
<br />
"No... Please?" <br />
<br />
Above, the atmosphere eddied, wrapping and softening the rain, sending snow down as paltry recompense, as the assassin took stuttering gasps.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
The rain from the night before had reduced the battlefield to a muddy ditch. The burning Ork corpses left a black smear of smoke across the horizon, as Ardrin sat next to the pilot of the command chimera, waiting. He couldn't stand to be in the same room as the Inquisitor, as his pet Culexus just gave him the heebie-jeebies. If the heebie-jeebies came in nightmare form of endless oblivion. <br />
<br />
One of the Grey Knights had gone missing; no sign of any corpses matching the Adepta Orthodontia molar records. The Inquisitor was rather pleasant about it. <br />
<br />
A bunker had been discovered, with a tunnel. The marines were too busy, setting up a base in preparation to launch assault against the guardsmen over the hill. The Inquisitor hadn't wanted to go through the tunnel on foot. So, they drove out to the outpost. <br />
<br />
The pilot nearly ran over the Chosen of the Emperor.<br />
<br />
The APC was pulled over. Faceless gasmasked elite glamour boys stepped out, putting up their hellguns like it would mean a damn to a space marine. The Inquisitor stepped out, flanked by his Adeptus Mechanicus, and Culexus. <br />
<br />
Ardrin stayed inside, staring through the viewport. The Inquisitor approaches, pushes over the Grey Knight with his foot. Nothing. Everyone relaxes. <br />
<br />
Then they jump, a momentary flash illuminating the armored figure. The Inquisitor leans in. Beckons for the Techpriest. The helmet is pried off. The face... A glance, Ardrin got, but he saw it was flattened, bludgeoned. Whispers. The Inquisitor nods, stands, and waves one of the stormtroopers over. He speaks on the radio. Everyone gets back in the Chimera. Except for the Inquisitor. He stops, and tosses a word over his shoulder to the marine. <br />
<br />
The marine's face turns stony. Seizes up. Asks a question. The Inquisitor shakes his head. Steps into the chimera. <br />
<br />
"Well," announced matter of factly, "This is interesting." "What did you say to him," it isn't exactly a question. It's an accusation. That face. It was of a man doomed.<br />
<br />
Inquisitor Madek glances up, "Did I speak to you?" "No, no, but what," Ardrin gulps, "What did you say to him?" "The truth," the optic units stared, emotionless, "That he was damned, for his failure to apprehend the enemies of the Imperium. When he dies," The Inquisitor looked down, for a moment admiring his boltpistol with a distant smile, "He will be denied the Emperor's Grace." <br />
<br />
The chimera goes silent, as the soldiers stop their breathing. Shock, all around, save for the Culexus and the Techpriest, who stare downwards. <br />
<br />
"And also, Ardrin? Don't speak back to me," The Inquisitor settled back, staring at the ceiling, the ghostly smile still on his face, "That's a sin." <br />
<br />
"Make for the spaceport. There've been interesting developments, and I believe they'll head there eventually. Felix? Contact my barge. Tell them, Psalm, 144:1. Make all necessary arrangements. Now I," whispered the Inquisitor, "To sleep, pure of heart and worry..."<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Inquisitor Madek's personal barge is in a little bubble of calm, in an orbit at constant war. Imperial Naval stand off with the Blood Raven fleet, all the while fighting Orks, Tau, errant eldar raids, the Chaos fleets and the occasional, mysterious necron vessel. Their fortunes turn and twist, but always the same: Inquisitor Madek's vessel is guarded, and never touched.<br />
<br />
''Psalm 144:1, of the Litany of Hate.''<br />
<br />
The Barge is devoid of human life. But it is filled with abhuman life. Servitors scuttle around, Tau shriek and cry in cages, and the cargo- <br />
<br />
Currently, it lies empty. Save for one reinforced casket. No glass faces outside to allow a viewer to look in, for it would be too weak. <br />
<br />
''Blessed the Emperor, my strength, be.'' <br />
<br />
A grasping metal arm swings out, wraps around it, and drags it, emitting sparks the whole way, shrieks of metal falling on deaf durasteel. The odyssey across the vast and lonely cargo bay does not quiet the hunk of steel. At the end, it is placed before the doors, set on a steel bar. <br />
<br />
With loud, shrieking claxons, the doors part, and the Tau prisoners gasp for air again. The doors part a bare ten feet, before with a sliding snap, the bar sends the casket flying with what air pressure couldn't do. <br />
<br />
It spins, end over end, as around it thousands of navy men fight and war to hold a place above a planet. <br />
<br />
The casket falls towards it. <br />
<br />
''That teaches my hands to war...'' <br />
<br />
<br />
Molten layers of durasteel dribble off as it falls. It was not specifically designed for orbital entry, but it serves. End over end, it falls and falls, and the outer layer slips off. It has a rough aim of where it needs to go. A rough idea, and a rough mission enters the skull. <br />
<br />
Vindicare. Farseer. Dead. <br />
<br />
A bare ten miles above ground, the outside of it detonates, bits at a time. The fall hiccups, again and again, as layer after layer is blown off. <br />
<br />
Ten meters above ground, it seemingly detonates. It manages to arrest its speed, to only half of terminal velocity. <br />
<br />
It is driven three meters into the ground, and kills an unfortunate Odewillin that strayed too close. <br />
<br />
It hisses, and pops, as the last powder of explosives detonates. The slag runs off, leaving behind a mere steel plate blocking it and the world. <br />
<br />
''...And my fingers to fight.'' <br />
<br />
A clawed hand pierces through, and tugs off the steel like paper. <br />
<br />
''Fear me, for I am your apocalypse.''<br\><br />
-Dictum Eversor <br />
<br />
"And call up Governor Alexander, your friend," Inquisitor Madek sways with the bumps, optics still closed, <br\>unsmiling. <br />
"I want him to explain to me how my asset managed to get tainted by Chaos." <br />
<br />
===Chapter Eight===<br />
<br />
''I should have left him there. He had served his purpose. <br />
<br />
He owed me nothing - yet he gave himself to me willingly.<br />
<br />
Why? I know not. <br />
<br />
He is nothing more than a pathetic human. <br />
<br />
An inferior race. <br />
<br />
A mon-keigh. <br />
<br />
But still I broke off my wings so that I might carry him easier. <br />
<br />
I took him from that place, into the snowstorm where our tracks will not be found. <br />
<br />
He is heavy. And he is dying. And he is slowing me down. <br />
<br />
But I will save him. <br />
<br />
Why? I know not. <br />
<br />
He is still warm. I can feel his blood ebbing across me. For every beat of his heart, another, slight spill of heat. The heat blows away on the winter wind. His blood is still warm. But fading. And I have spilled scarlet myself. <br />
<br />
The snow laps greedily at our footsteps and our lifeblood, covering them without a trace as we fade away.''<br />
<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
<br />
Battle still raged behind them. Far off, in walls of steel and concrete, trenches of dirt and burning promethium, space marine and ork reveled in fire and bolter. Taldeer stopped a moment, breathing in and out, her lungs burning. She held the human over her shoulder, his feet still dragging in the snow. His rifle sheath, with frost covering it. She looked around. Disputed territory. Ork banners held up, some burnt, some empty, some shattered and buried under the snow. Exhortations of war broken and buried under the white blanket. The Vindicare beside her coughed, tensing for a moment, his hand digging into her own- then he slackened again. The blood warmth washed over her side again. She had no need to watch the skein of fate to see that survival was improbable. She was needed elsewhere. She shouldn't die, freezing, clinging to a weaponized man. She shifted his weight again, and pulled forward with her spear, panting again as she passed under twenty meter high declarations of war, pulling through the winter.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
"Inquisitor." Inquisitor Madek snorted sharply, blinking away the sleep. He frowned. He was cold. He should have packed more clothes than just a cassock. An idiotic desire to empathize with the guardsmen perhaps. "I've heard tell that cleanliness is one of the signs of divinity," <br />
<br />
Madek roused, sitting up, slipping on an ill fitting gentle smile, "I don't think I have to fear any usurpation here. What is it, Felix?" <br />
<br />
"The storm," Felix pointed out to the wall, where some diodes sputtered, "The corpus mechanica would be better served if I-" <br />
<br />
"I can barely give a damn, we're on the road to the spaceport, we can get it fixed there." <br />
<br />
"That's another thing," Lieutenant Ardrin, resembling nothing more than a big black fly came into the room, holding a buzzing comm, "The city, currently our forces command it and will be reinforced, but, the agents of Chaos are attacking it. They hold the entrance to the city we're heading for." Veteran soldiers. No courage, no faithful bone in their body they. Merely the survivors, benefit of the brave souls of the Emperor's truest servants. A fine degree of cowardice uncaught by commissar, that's all that experience breeds. They that survive are just rewarded for their base desire of living. Disgusting. <br />
<br />
"I believe we'll be fine," Inquisitor Madek gave a serene grin, "The Emperor protects."<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Sponge Weeds seemed to be an architect's dream come true. Plentiful, verdant, and tough, to early colonists of Kronus, they seemed to be a nightmare, great wide fields of sticky, dark, meter high reeds, choking swamps and rivers, ensuring most of the southern continent was a morass of stagnant water and painful to clear reeds. Chop them down, more would grow from the inevitable chunks that rushed out of the thing when it was cut, the water held within flooding out. They would gum up the irrigation, showing up in every single farm. "Spongeweeds," became synonymous with unwanted guests, and even became momentarily popular as a term for rapists before use of this term was purged and suppressed by the Ecclesiarchy. Until one ambitious young pioneer decided to attempt to use it to make a house. <br />
<br />
Foolish idea, was the universal thought at first. The soaking, stinking reeds would make for a great big mess everyone was convinced. At least until lacquer was applied to it. Cyanide, bacteria, toxins, as soon as the living reed felt under threat, it would stiffen up and hold, sometimes for years at a time if the rudimentary immune system sensed the poison was still there. <br />
<br />
Furthermore, reeds cut together would eventually mold together, sealing the area with a near vacuum grip. The house would generate warmth in the winters and hold off the heat in the summers, as the still living yet paralyzed plants reacted to the climates. This architectural fad and art material lasted fifty years before a pysker wandered too close and felt pain. Other pyskers had entered houses, but registered no complaints, and the people protested, but to the Imperial Church this was evidence enough to burn the lot of the suspicious, ugly living buildings. They said the fires were responsible for the harsh winter and cold summer that followed. Standard imperial architecture was followed from then on, but on occasion, out in the wilderness, you found the occasional hut. Like this one.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Taldeer stopped, falling to one knee, the weight of the assassin driving her down. Her muscles were stiff cracking against one another, wishing only to lay down and die. She wheezed, staring down at the snow. Little red spatters filled it. Hers and his. She couldn't tell them apart, they were both bright hued and crimson. <br />
<br />
Maybe if she stared long enough, she would see one shrivel and crust and the other crystallize and powder. She slapped the ground with her hand, fighting the welcome hands of a sleeping death. <br />
<br />
She looked up. A small house. Wooden. Some shelter from the biting wind. Just a few more steps. She bit her lip as she rose to her feet, carrying her savior, blood spilling from her side as the wound broke once again. She dragged forward, heading for the leathery wood flap of a door. Her hand reached for the door knob. She hesitated. A slight scuff of a noise in side. The pistol is steady in her hand as she pushes open the flap with the barrel. The noises getting louder the whole time.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
The door turned, squeaking and crackling on frozen hinges, the unfrozen edge flapping in the blizzard wind. Didn't look like there was anything. A gas tank stood in the center of the room, a line running into the cast iron stove, radiating welcome heat. Two doors, one ajar to a chair with the bottom cut out over a bucket, and the other firmly shut. <br />
<br />
Taldeer shrugged off the assassin, leaning in to whisper, "You'll be warm in a moment Liivi." She slipped inside, sweeping the room with her shuriken pistol, the singing spear unslung and behind her. The noise was coming from above. She was moving, her gun pointed at the ceiling, when she felt something catch her other hand from behind. Her hand- She whirled around, pistol raising to free her spear hand- The assassin's glove was wrapped around her own, slackening, as it fell down in the door way, shivering. The door opened as the Vindicare was dragged in, a slight trickle of blood running across the absorbent floor. Taldeer leaned next to him, leaning in close. His heart had slowed since last time. An occasional shiver would wrack a part of him. The gash- She gulped down the bile as she something shift and slither through the mess of blood and ribs. He shouldn't die. The door creaked.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
"X-X-Xeno!" <br />
<br />
Taldeer spun on her heels, spreading her hands and kneeling before the Vindicare, her shuriken pistol and Singing Spear out. Someone stood, stark naked but for a sheet over his shoulder, in the door way, a primitive slug thrower at his shoulder. Underweight, hairy, and yellowed by liver failure. A shivering blue eye held between the bead, pointed at her head. <br />
<br />
"I-I-I never thought they would send another, to me, to my nightmares!" The gun rattled, parts scraping and clacking together, "I, I've killed before! I'm a veteran. A veteran of a secret war of soul and damnation. You won't have! Have! Have me! That's not yours to take, I never let you!" <br />
<br />
A madman. Dribbling in whatever local dialect that the humans paid courtesy too. She could barely glean the words meaning, much less the order. In all probability, she could move and slice him from jaw to groin before he could fire his pathetic gun in the wrong direction. But- Her brows furrowed together, she whispered in low gothic, "We only seek shelter from the storm, we are but mere travelers," couching her words in a recognized story, she tried to manipulate his mind. The discharge practically deafened her, and the human brought the black smoking barrel up to her eye. <br />
<br />
"Manipulations! Orienteering, on basic desires?! Fuck you bitch! No more," He leaned in, eyes furious, "No more. I used to be a good man, before you showed me! Emperor..." He whispered, "Emperor protect, are you my daughter? I can't tell. I thought, I thought I ate you earlier. I can't tell," he stared down, squeezing his eyes shut, yellowed tears leaking out of his eyes. The gun rose, the man inarticulately sobbing into a hand, it wavered above. <br />
<br />
"I," am your daughter of course father, don't shoot me, and your son, you had a son didn't you, followed by a shot through the throat. Eminently survivable, reasonable action. "I am not going to play along with your delusion, mad one," Taldeer brought her shuriken pistol up, and into the watery blue eyes. One shot that would be it. "Leave us be. I do not wish infecting his wound with your blood. And for the sake of your family, get a hold of yourself." Stupid. The old man turned, the slugthrower up. She could get off two shots in the time it took him to get aiming. <br />
<br />
"Deat-" <br />
<br />
Whizz. The first nicked his hairline. <br />
<br />
"-h is the"<br />
<br />
The second cut through his thigh born artery. <br />
<br />
"path to redempARRRRRGGH" <br />
<br />
The bullet fired, hitting wide, thumping into the ceiling, sending filthy half frozen water across the room. Taldeer moved back, and snapped her spear at his hands. The blunt end of the wraithbone snapped his hands like a carrot, the broken bones held within a sack of meat. The gun fell to the floor, discharging into the wall. The wraithbone blade was held against his neck. "Surrender." <br />
<br />
He opened his mouth to speak, and all that came out was blood. The shriveled old corpse fell back. Bullet had entered by way of the esophagus, tumbled through thalamus, hypothalamus, medulla oblongata and cerebellum, then, by his estimates, got lodged in the occipital lobe. His Exitus pistol lowered, the Vindicare let his head drop back to the floor. His mask was full of blood. He panted through it. His eyes closed. He was superficially aware of a presence standing above him. Through the numbness, a cold drop prickled his right arm. <br />
<br />
"He was hardly a threat." Primary. Taldeer. <br />
<br />
"It was necessary." <br />
<br />
"Well," her voice came closer, as hand fell on his chest, "I'm not about to berate the man nearly disemboweled, but somebody's going to have to clean that up if we're going to be staying here more than an hour. "Is there plumbing?" He heard the gentle sloshing of water. "I don't know about your species, or even about you yourself, but amongst my people," Splash. A fire ran down the numb line that the Grey Knight had cut into him, "Cold or no, the wounds need to be sterilized," the assassin, for his part only twitched. <br />
<br />
He stared at the pistol in his hand. He had never gotten around to reloading it.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
The blade had started at the base of his bottom, leftmost rib, and worked up, ending at the right clavicle. It was a surface cut, the first rib was cut and the second broken, but after that no other bone damage. The muscle had been shorn off, and it looked like that where it had gone, the flesh had fried. The heart was barely visible, thumping and pulsating. <br />
<br />
Fortunately, she reflected, humans had a whole lot of space in their body as opposed to eldar. The blood loss was the most important thing. And sterilizing the room. The alcohol would help a little. And the corpse. Of course, the man had to be eating. Why did he shoot him? The damn silenced pistol, it could have been any time during that fight, and she wouldn't have known. But. It was only after she had told him to surrender. His mouth opened. The blood splattered. She shook her head, as she wrapped the body in the sheet it had been wearing, and dragged it out into the snow. He shoots a lunatic who was waving a gun at you. Most people would firmly place that under the pro column. It just means- <br />
<br />
She let go of the sheet on the corpse. As if on cue, the man splayed out, a shiver running down his veins and arteries.<br />
<br />
Teeth. Teeth on his tongue. And two noses in his hair. <br />
<br />
Her eyes widened, and she turned back to the cottage, as the door slammed shut.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Her feet barely touch the snow. <br />
<br />
To Eldar, all mankind move clumsily, and slowly, kittens staring about in the dark, their arms blindly reaching to the sky like teetering towers, waving back and forth, unsure nerve and tendon spasming. <br />
<br />
Men looking upon Eldar see disquieting grace. Deliberate steps. The care of a surgeon in the movement of a runner. Even the enhanced assassins, and those among the Space Marines unimpeded by their armor seem to have no instinct about them, their speed the speed of a pneumatic press, or an out of control piston. All forcing through the air, no cutting. <br />
<br />
But the Vindicare had seemed different. It wasn't speed, as much as being in the right place at the right time. She should've known damn it. She rammed into the door, the half frozen bark, far from its native swamp, dully creaking. She pounded into it again, pulling at the door. It warped and stuttered, held shut by something. <br />
<br />
More foolish than a human, she thought bitterly. Her spear was still inside too. <br />
<br />
She glanced around, running around the house, as she felt the pull of the sea.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Back, a bare hour maybe, that's when she should have seen. (shortly after the Grey Knight fight)<br />
<br />
"Come on!" by instinct, her hand reached up, flicking away the blood on her face. She felt more warm blood smear on. The rain was turning to snow, and his breath had started to turn irregular. Shock? He had to live. From stem to stern it had cut, running more shallow along the way. His bottom two ribs, one was cut clean, the other hanging by a sliver of bone. The metal plating had done little good, still bubbling where the marine's glaive had touched. Fried nerves, cooked skin- Human. Mon-keigh. <br />
<br />
There were more of them than the stars. Why should she care. A hand slipped under his head, and another one ran across his back.<br />
<br />
She shouldn't be caring. <br />
<br />
His body shuddered, as he hacked. The mask. Blood was catching under it. Flooding it. He couldn't breath. Her hands ran up the synskin collar, reaching under it, pulling it up as it went along. The mask fell into the snow, taking a lot of blood with it. It dribbled across the snow, and she gently tipped him over, as he hacked, bloody froth coming clear. <br />
<br />
"Liivi," she whispered. His eyes were squeezed shut, as he fell back, breathing, coughing occasionally. Dark hair. Short cropped. His cheekbones stood out. What wasn't a smear of blood was- No. Nothing to think about. The snow was falling quick and fast now. She had to go. <br />
<br />
She grabbed the mask, and pulled it back onto the Vindicare as gently as she could, but in the middle, he leaned in. Lips brushed. And maybe. Just maybe. They might have held together, a little longer than was appropriate for a bleeding man's comfort. <br />
<br />
He fell back into the snow, immediately, as if by some miracle, calmed. She stared. Through the blood, she could taste something else. Lemara. He tasted like lemara. <br />
<br />
She carefully pushed the mask back on his face. Around them, the storm begin to howl. She lifted him to her shoulders, and then fell back. There was a cracking noise. The wraithbone had had enough, evidently. How carelessly then she tore off the other spirit stone mounts. Leaving her with just one refuge, in case of death. She had reasoned, she could come back for them. Isolated place. Wouldn't be that hard. They were just getting in the way anyway. <br />
<br />
She hefted his arm onto her shoulder, and he had just barely enough life to push with his legs. She stood. <br />
<br />
’"WHY-"’ The hollow roar of the Grey Knight's audio must have been malfunctioning, she heard something else whispered. She probably should have been listening. <br />
<br />
"He saved my life." <br />
<br />
’"YOU-"’ more hollow whispers ’"YOUR GREAT ENEMY?"’ <br />
<br />
"No more words," She turned, dragging the Vindicare off into the snow storm with her, "You should die soon out here."<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
The Grey Knight had sounded confused. She had chalked it up to his ego's breaking at defeat. He had been beaten severely. And his attempt to kill the enemy of the Imperium he had seen had been foiled by another agent of the Imperium. The Grey Knights are the greatest weapon mankind has against Daemons. <br />
<br />
In all their years, they have never had one fall to chaos. They are the few to be entrusted with the full secrets of what the Imperium knew of daemonology, chaos, and the warp. Their very presence pains demons, makes them sluggish, ineffective. They hunt daemons, first and foremost, and in this task, they must be expected to be the best warriors that humanity can dredge up. <br />
<br />
Taldeer ran around the hut, looking for any entrance, as the wood boards creaked at her presence. Why would he engage a farseer alone? Her fingers ran across boards merged together, one flesh over another, warm and twitching to the touch. Why would he try to finish off the Vindicare, if there was another opponent in the field? The Great Enemy. <br />
<br />
"Wake up Vindie," the Assassin blinked the sleep from his eyes. Taldeer entered the door, shaking the dripping snow from her spear, smiling serenely at Liivi. <br />
<br />
She Who Thirsts.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
"Wake up." Liivi started, sitting up, as a flustered Taldeer approached, with a smile, shaking the wet off of her spear. "How are you?" <br />
<br />
"I'm-" the Vindicare tested himself, and set himself back, "I'm going to need a moment. The nerve endings are still broken." <br />
<br />
"Good... We'll have to pass the time then, won't we?" <br />
<br />
"The inhabitant. I don't smell him." <br />
<br />
"I took him out," Taldeer shrugged, setting her arms straight and jamming her hands between her feet as she sat in a position of mock meditation, "Figured we wouldn't like any dead guy laying around here." <br />
<br />
"The defecation," the Vindicare turned his eyes towards Taldeer, "The blood." <br />
<br />
"Shh, I was just lucky to find a mop and soap in this hick's place," Taldeer placed her ungloved hand on Liivi's shoulder, pushing him gently back down, "Just go to sleep, hmm?" The wood groaned under the Vindicare, as he lay back. A fresh magazine was struck home into the pistol. A nervous system of wires and thrice blessed metals kicked in, as the pistol rose to Taldeer's face. She grinned. <br />
<br />
"Do you get off on this?" The pistol made six very good points in reply, while the Vindicare kicked himself back. <br />
<br />
Taldeer started, as she felt the ocean kick, before stepping back. Two large, holes burst through the wood, the rubbery sacks burst and making a squealing, squelching noise. The problem with the architecture of Kronus, that caused the Ecclesiastical purge was the pysker's report. The pain he felt was purely sympathetic, a crude intelligence, but an intelligence en masse was inside the homes. The local Arch Cardinal had wanted any reason he could find to burn the homes, as disgusted as he was at the concept of living houses, and he had found it. They were aliens, possibly intelligent aliens. As the homes burned into the night sky, and the reeds, already depopulated by the rapacious desires of the colonists, were uprooted wherever the crusaders could find them, they were nearly driven into extinction. Whether they had gone on this path for centuries and they had somehow managed to keep it in secret, or it was started in response, no one can ever be sure. <br />
<br />
But the plaintive, stupid, mewling minds of plants turned their thoughts to Chaos. The shaking reeds vomited forth the filthy, turgid water into the snowstorm, as Taldeer leapt back. They rustled and undulated, swearing and cursing in ways only the grass and wind could respect. They called upon a goddess that had long grown bored of them. The weeds shriveled and shrunk desperate to hold onto what water they could. Taldeer reached with her hands, and broke and tore the twisted remnants of an empire that never was, and broke through.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
"Hah... Haha..." The pseudo Taldeer fell back against one of the walls, as it twisted in vegetative joy, she spread her hands, "You wound me." <br />
<br />
"That was the intent," an empty mag thudded across the floor, as the Vindicare reached for another. <br />
<br />
"Do you like it?" The Taldeer fell forward, her eyes watering, her delicate, pale hands reaching for the hole in her throat, she stared upwards, mouth running blood, at the Vindicare, "Is it better, when you can just kill those that you make the object of your affections? Simplifies the fun parts, I bet?" <br />
<br />
"Quiet," The pistol coughed, ramming a bullet through the forehead, blood spattering against his visor. Small lasers immediately evaporated it. The Vindicare stood, hand at his side. He switched through the spectrums. All of them showing the same thing. <br />
<br />
"Something wrong?" whispered the heap from the floor, "Would it have been better if I didn't talk?" The visor was in error. The sounds weren't matching up right. The gun was too loud. There wasn't that much blood. He didn't smell death. <br />
<br />
"Witch." <br />
<br />
"Close," Thermal signatures rose in the shape of a smiling woman, covered barely by black stained leather, "It-" <br />
<br />
The pistol coughed too loud again as a round black hole appeared in the forehead.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
The house shouldn't be this big. Taldeer stepped forward, her shuriken pistol drawn. A small comfort. The wood walls seemed to pulse and breath, as water passed down the reeds. They pressed in, weak, minds drawn together by some human that wanted a place for the summers. Her ocean was dark. She was in the waves. She was strong here. <br />
<br />
The Great Enemy. She had been a fool. <br />
<br />
No one falls in love outside of their species. Not without some manipulation. <br />
<br />
"So, why are you going back?" Mused a voice. Taldeer held, her pistol raised, her hand squeezing, crackling with energy. <br />
<br />
"I have no reason to explain to you, or your ilk." <br />
<br />
"She was bored, you know," Something stepped out of the shadows, something that was a color and a smell and a industrial accident, "She has been waiting soooo long, to finish what you started. You can't tease a girl forever," A hand touched Taldeer's shoulder. She shot up. Something hissed and shrieked, and for a blink of a moment, Taldeer was standing in a kitchen, strange, viscous blood dripping across her. Then, she was somewhere else. <br />
<br />
"I know you are impatient beast. Your kind always are. When you come back, I will kill you." <br />
<br />
"Oh, I will be entertained," The voice had changed pitches, almost recognizable, on surrounding on all sides, "I will be entertained by your other. Your savior, as we jerk him by the chains we gave him and he shoots you full of holes!" <br />
<br />
As if on cue, a buzzing noise of a hundred bullets whizzed at Taldeer. She held still, and waited for the thing to get bored.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
General Governor Militant Lukas Alexander rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Inquisitor Madek, I do not know anything more than what my trusted officer Ardrin has told you. If you will pardon me, I have a war against those beloved space marines you invited into the pass my men softened to run." <br />
<br />
"There is something more, Governor. There must be." <br />
<br />
"Your Grey Knight declared somebody reeked of the warp, he was next to an Eldar, he could have sniffed the warp enchantments she used on him." <br />
<br />
"It is not the same, neophyte. Tell me again, where you deployed him." <br />
<br />
"Initial clearing of Victory Bay, deployment along with Operation Hammerfall as a spotter-" <br />
<br />
"Details." <br />
<br />
"He cleared a house, used it as a firing position, dropped hundreds of rioters before they surrendered." <br />
<br />
"Inhabitants of the house." <br />
<br />
"A family, family of six." <br />
<br />
"Hm. Last of the reports on the kill roster for him-" <br />
<br />
"Oh good, that makes me ecstatic. I'm so glad you found that out. Beautiful. I'm going to get back to my war, that you helped my enemies with now." <br />
<br />
"The weight will be upon your soul if you do not hel-" <br />
<br />
"What else can I do? I'm not going to recite records that Ardrin has already told you about all day. Governor Militant, out." <br />
<br />
"If you-" Inquisitor Madek stared, stunned as the vox buzzed silent. Then frowned. That would require retaliation. He turned to the Enginseer, "Brother Felix, if I could have a word with you about the newly deployed unit..."<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
Lukas switched off the comm, panting a bit. That was unwise. He closed his eyes, and sighed, before crawling back into the tank. He stood, taking the third door down the corridor, where the technicians saluted, pointing him to his seat. He gave a nod, before sitting down in the command chair. "This thing is checked right? I don't feel like going through a long checklist of what works and what doesn't." <br />
<br />
"All eleven weapons, check, fuel check, tracks check out, everything is good to go my lord." <br />
<br />
"Good," Lukas Alexander shifted uneasily in his command chair, glancing across the technicians. He had been a bit rude. He licked his lips, loosening the bolt pistol at his side, "No one in here leaves, no one in here enters, until this battle is over, you read?" A wave of nods, "Good. Set course for the space port." A deafening crunch of ice on steel, as the many engines in the Baneblade roared to life, pulling the tracks forward across the snowing landscape. Eleven guns waved over the horizon, searching for targets, seeing only the flanking forces of the Imperial guard, rolling behind. Greasy black smoke sailed up into the sky joining their brethren above the Kronus spaceport. Strangely, the assurances of Midilv seemed even less comforting, at the end of a tank column.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
"It's not going to be of any use," The Daemon stood, shaking her head, blood and brains dripping from two dark red holes. <br />
<br />
"True," The Vindicare lowered his weapon, his hand pressing against his side, the adrenaline was fading now, and he could feel something drifting in his body, "Leave me then, or kill me abomination. I shall not be diverted from my duties." <br />
<br />
"No, of course not. You have the Farseer for 'diversions' from your duty, don't you?" The daemonette spread her hands, approaching the assassin, "You didn't- You didn't think these feelings were genuine, did you?"<br />
<br />
Snap. <br />
<br />
"If we're going to have a conversation, you REALLY must stop shooting me."<br />
<br />
===Chapter Nine===<br />
The contents of Chapter Nine were deleted by the writer; supposedly, nothing relating to the story was lost.<br />
<br />
note: had sex w/ demonette, felt ashamed.<br />
<br />
===Chapter Ten===<br />
<br />
"Of course, you would have known that... If you had looked inside of his head," the abomination's clawed feet tacked on the floor, annoying, precise, like a metronome by five, "Which I assume, you didn't?" Taldeer stayed, kneeled, still. The thing was confusing her, trying to make her distrust, lose focus, but... The soft noise, like leather being drawn taut heralded the monster's smile. "You DID." <br />
<br />
"I delved into his mind while he slept. His memories...they horrified me. The things they did to him as a child and even worse - as a man. They twisted his mind and body endlessly. Till there was nothing left. Nothing but a weapon. A tool for the Imperium. Barely a soul in a body, this man, LIIVI, was utterly alone in this world. Even more so than I. He has nothing and nobody to go back to. I broke free from his mind. And after a moment to collect my thoughts, I laid beside him and slept," Taldeer turned, her head tilting up slightly. <br />
<br />
Amusement, rippled on the tide in her head. "You were horrified?" Laughter, mirth traveled along the waves, "Horrified? You soft bitch, you delve into his skull while he sleeps, while he TRUSTS you," The voice paused a moment, and for a moment, the utter dark that blocked Taldeer's senses lifted, her, lying on the kitchen floor, the wall above filled with holes, before it returned, "And you dive into his skull?" The daemonette was behind Taldeer. She could feel it. Rasping along her soul, crying out that all that was wrong behind her- Yet she listened to the daemon's words. <br />
<br />
"I MASTURBATED to those thoughts, you little innocent bitch," Taldeer's eyes made the lie that the daemonette strutted ahead of her, glittering multifaceted eyes reflecting her a thousand times being tortured, "How couldn't it arouse you?" The daemonette spread her arms, a viscous substance dribbling from her fingers, strands still leading back to her person, "A man, reduced to a machine, single minded, devoted to destruction and eradication, and you, you have him as your servant. Your patsy. The one who adores you," <br />
<br />
The Slaaneshi leaned in, smile playing across her lips, "Without even fucking with his head, or at least doing a damn fine subtle job of it, tell me you don't get a little wet at things you could make him do, wrapped around your little finger." <br />
<br />
"I mean, at that as well, with just a single glance, A SINGLE GODDAMN GLANCE, you had him?" The Daemonette shook her head as she walked back, "Lucky, lucky little whore..." The illusion stopped, turned on her heel, staring at Taldeer. "Well? Say something? Anything Juliet?" <br />
<br />
"No," Taldeer said, serenely, "I think you've told me everything I wanted to know already." The daemonette narrowed her eyes, snorted, then rounded on her heel. Imaginary tortures sprang anew across her, as Taldeer grinned, fearless now.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
In the Temple of the Vindicare, all times were measured by the times of Earth. It took three days, nineteen hours and twelve seconds for the disobedient, alien sun to set. Eighteen hours and three seconds for the blasphemous second star to rise. Eighteen hours of tyranny before it fell. So on. So forth. All attempts to form an unofficial, logical time, were broken by the lash. <br />
<br />
Yet, in those first few free months, the assassin kept a new time than the one he had once on his home world. It had been driven out of him. With burning rod and crackling leather, it had been erased. Expunged. With the rest of him, pulled out by the roots, taking great big bloody clots with it. <br />
<br />
It was noon, on Holy Terra. The sun was high above Holy Terra. The Inquisitor had always told them that the clock was right. Checked by [[TWINS THEY WERE|twins, they were]]. What light could make through the atmosphere, would be glinting off of the palace right now. The moon looked beautiful, this noon of Holy Terra. <br />
<br />
"If you're done ruminating...The mission you fucked." The Vindicare looked down from the moon, to the longlas in his hands. He stood in a field where nothing grew but weeds, tall as his thighs. A flower was growing at his feet. <br />
<br />
"Do not fail," intoned, from a year away.<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
"You're an awful good sport about this," whispered the daemonette across the road. She smiled, sadly, in the lips of Taldeer, sad eyes of Taldeer peering from under the sad brow of Taldeer, in the garments of Taldeer, "If, if you want this to stop-" <br />
<br />
Taldeer's long lashes cast downward, covering aged eyes, wet and ashamed- "Yes." <br />
<br />
A ground car trundled by, its primitive combustion engine hacking and coughing as it went. When the ton of motored steel passed by, the warp spawned abomination shrugged off the skin of Taldeer, a frown cracking its face. "Guess it ain't vulnerability then," muttered the deviant, dispelling the illusion. <br />
<br />
"The target is going to Nightmarket," 12:34, on the minute in Pier delle Vigne, the streets blossomed. Under noon in Holy Terra, under moon of their world. No spymask. Stealthsuit and hood were under his coat and trousers, but he wasn't expected to have to use them. Inquisitor Uberti wanted to send a message. Already elements of the 5th Hastati were moving, securing spots for the Vindicare to fire, securing avenues of escape, securing the proper delivery of the message. A year ago, the Vindicare's hands moved, disassembling the weapon, placing the pieces in his coat. A year ago, he moved off, heading for the night market in full bloom. The red flower, fairer by any other name, a relic from twenty thousand years ago, a genetic miracle, a year ago crushed under his foot.<br />
<br />
"Stepped on something," the voice from across the road lilted over. The world had no technology to speak of. The governor enacted dictums and creeds long ago, that forbade the populace from dealing with Imperial traders, "To preserve the culture and lifestyle of the honest folk of Florent." Currently on his two hundred and eleventh year by virtue of Imperial immortality drugs, rumor stated that the governor had gone into seclusion more as a concession to good taste not to flaunt hypocrisy than any sort of secret to hide. <br />
<br />
Generations had the same portrait of the governor, smug, a little jowl, the Imperial regalia suiting him. Rogue traders freely tracked back and forth, even as lasgun bearing Adeptus Arbites patrolled the streets, keeping an eye out for citizens bearing too much technology. "You ever felt guilty?" Asked the voice, now on the other side of a building, as the Vindicare stepped along the sidewalk. The longlas disassembled, held in pockets on his person. The assassin did not answer. Night Market was a festive time, a relic of happier days. Night time used to be times of fear to those of Pier delle Vigne, long ago. <br />
<br />
But how the city celebrated with gas lighting. They revered it to this day, elevating the hero of the city, Vigne the Gaslighter, with sainthood in their local Ecclesiarchical branch, and with his name upon the town. In celebration of their newfound safety, and liberation from criminals, the Night Market was opened. In recent years, it had become considered practically a form of open welfare for the criminal element, but, a reverence for tradition drove the Florents on to the market, nearly every night they could afford to. <br />
<br />
Including one unfortunate young woman.<br />
<br />
Third floor. Brick building. <br />
<br />
"So nice to be able to see you fuck up something once. Well, this and falling for something that isn't even your species."<br />
<br />
The long barrel spins, clicks in place on the main body of the lasrifle. A powerpack is shoved home. A whine, subsonic, pierces the Vindicare's ears. <br />
<br />
"Always shooting chicks too, alright, the last lil' scene we played through, she wasn't that good, but this one," The daemonette was leaning on some boxes. Some sort of warehouse, she leaned over the edge, peering out the window, "She's something I'd like to spend a bit of time on, if ya- Oh by the way, good peripheral vision there, that all natural?" <br />
<br />
The scope slid down the hollowed line, as the Vindicare stood at the window, his target coming along in peripheral vision. She was a courtesan. She was smiling, her parents had been mixed, one of them belonging to the dominant darker ethnicity with the silver highlight genetic tampering, and the other a plainer, more yellow woman who gained his attention by being an heiress. Somehow, they managed to produce a beauty enough to capture the attention of the planet. And the governor. <br />
<br />
"Too high," muttered the Vindicare, words that were in his memory. <br />
<br />
"Oh good. After that bad ass, click clang assembling bit, you go down a floor?" The daemonette rolled her eyes, "Real professional." <br />
<br />
Vindicare walked by, his longlas fully assembled at his side. "Playin' hard to get," she mumbled. She hated being direct. But bit by bit, it seemed the only way. Canvas flaps crisscrossed the streets, like the product of a manic spider. Within the folds and turns and twists of the Night Markets tent city, merchants established their benches, displaying their wares for all to see. Behind the canvas, the Vindicare waited.<br />
<br />
Leather and patchwork cloth didn't hide her from the IR on the scope. It was good enough. He really had no need to reach through, and pull apart a seam on one of the flaps, to see with his own eyes. She stepped lightly, a bag at her waist, over her arm, holding it like the farmgirl she once was distributing seed. Gift from the governor. No stitches. Molded together. Doubtless bought off world. <br />
<br />
"X-L-I-I-I, do you have the target in sight yet?" The bored tones of Inquisitor Uberti crackled over his subdermal. For a moment, his skin twitched, set abuzz by the faulty installation just behind his temple. The next module performed much better. <br />
<br />
"Yes." <br />
<br />
"Good, good, my men will need a moment to get into position, just hold on." She twisted, the shotgun of genetic fate on full display. Coconut skin like her father, mother's fair hair, save for what silver patterned across her, flashing in the gaslight. "We're good, look to your right." The Vindicare glanced out of the corner of his eye. Inquisitor Uberti stood, a good nine blocks away on one of the sprawling balconies of the governor's equally opulent and space wasting manor. The Inquisitor's arm over the shoulder of a quivering, frightened man stuffed with great care into an officer's regalia. "Fire at will." <br />
<br />
The cotton skirt blew in the wind, as she turned, the grin at the common folk faded, as she looked down the street, in curiosity at the waving man in the golden armor. Her head, flapped in the breeze, as she spun a last pirouette, a lazy circle falling down. The Night Market, within a moment, emptied, stepping and fighting each other to get away from the signature lasblast. Some of them trod upon their former maiden idol. <br />
<br />
"That was it?" <br />
<br />
"You're the one picking through my memory." <br />
<br />
"And you remembered this as a botched job becau-" <br />
<br />
"Pick back through the briefing witch," said the Vindicare, turning and pointing the lasrifle at the daemonette, "I am not in a verbose mood." <br />
<br />
"You're going to try to shoot me again?" The Daemonette stepped forward, as Liivi felt her hot breath on the back of his neck, "You do know- I control everything you see. Slaanesh is the god of pleasure, sensation, excess- I, I control everything you can possibly see, hear, smell, touch, and taste, waving a pretend gun at a pretend me and pretend to pull the pretend trigger is not going to do a thing." <br />
<br />
The memory faded, pushing LIIVI back into the dark. The gun, dripped and melted away with cinematic abandon. "Just sit tight there miboyo. I'll be back later." The daemonette opened her eyes again. Back to reality. The assassin in front of her had flailed about like a puppet with the way she had to manipulate his every sense before she had gone ahead and tied him up with a belt. The Eldar was at least still, but, at this the abomination felt her side, the wound still raw, "Bitch is tricky," the Slaaneshi murmured. She felt it again. The weak wash of a primitive intellect. The house called again. Noiselessly tunelessly. Begging for feeling once more. <br />
<br />
"Barely a step above Tau," the daemonette murmured as she turned from the room with the tied sniper, standing at the precipice to the kitchen. The farseer was still there. Kneeling in the standing water. Fuck she hated that bitch.<br />
<br />
"Still caught?" Asked Taldeer. "Well, I would go but-" <br />
<br />
The daemonette drudged up a quick dream, a flash of her the head of the assassin in her hand, him naked kneeling in front of her, bound and gagged, "We haven't even gotten into anal yet, so I'm not about to leave this nice coz-" <br />
<br />
"Cozy house of an abomination that had an intellect that you could barely sustain yourself off of and you reduced your last guest to a gibbering wreck, leaving you stranded in the middle of a blizzard, left alone-" <br />
<br />
"Chaos is on this planet," The Slaaneshi sniffed, "I could just hop into the warp and back out on a battlefield somewhere, enjoying myself." <br />
<br />
"I've never seen any of Eliphas's men deploy a single daemonette." <br />
<br />
"Oh, so suddenly you're the expert on Daemonology." <br />
<br />
Silence. <br />
<br />
"He'll turn," The daemonette turned away, heading back to the assassin, "We have all the world and all the time in it." The claws tacked away, angry. Taldeer waited, the ocean drift in her head whispering. Then, with some care, she crept forward another inch. A bare three inches away from the gun she remembered the mon-keigh had dropped. <br />
<br />
==About the Ending==<br />
<br />
''This is just one oldfag's recollection, but I figure it's better than nothing.<br />
<br />
''The ending exists- or it did for about half a day. It was posted in an obscure way, I want to say a troll-ridden LCB discussion thread that was nearing autosage. No one saved it, apparently. <br />
<br />
''This is all secondhand, mind you. But it fits my impression of Bloom Writer- he'd always struck me as very shy and self-effacing, possibly to the point of having genuine self-esteem issues. I also recall that he was struggling to keep going; the "final chapter" may not have been very good or actually reached the end. (Or maybe the dude just had a shitty net connection, it's way too easy to read into these things.)<br />
<br />
''Either way, the anon who did see it gave us the gist of it a day later, and the plot points he passed on are worth sharing.''<br />
<br />
-The inquisitor was heretical and had been making knockoff assassins, including LIIVI (whose defects were limited to things like love blooming- he could snipe as well as the genuine article). <br />
<br />
-LIIVI managed to cover Taldeer's escape but was captured as a consequence. <br />
<br />
-Taldeer makes it back to her ship but winds up joining some rogue traders rather than returning to the craftworld. The implication is that she intends to find and rescue LIIVI.<br />
<br />
''So if you ever hear people talk about Space Pirate Taldeer, just remember: it's totally canon.<br />
<br />
(That being said, there is no way to prove that any of the above is true. In the absence of any undeniable evidence to the contrary, the vast majority of /tg/ acts on the assumption that Taldeer and LIVII escaped back to Ulthwé, where they eventually have [[Lofn|a daughter]].)<br />
<br />
==See Also==<br />
*Love Can Bloom Epub Edition: https://www.dropbox.com/s/gnf2kgvlr8n3e4c/Love%20can%20Bloom%20-%20_tg.epub<br />
''Compilation of above writefaggotry''<br />
*[[Love Bloomed In Her Mouth]]<br />
*[[Bedroom Infiltration]]<br />
*[[Meet the Ulthran]], in which Eldrad Ulthran meets LIIVI and decides he approves.<br />
*[[Sister Sinai]], in which we see LIIVI in action before he meets [[Taldeer]].<br />
*[[Imber]]<br />
<br />
==Gallery==<br />
<br />
<center><br />
<gallery><br />
Image:Lovecanbloom_by_co_drawfag.jpg|Even /co/ draws these two<br />
Image:Mon Keigh Fucker.jpg|Macha gives her opinion<br />
Image:LCB.jpg|"Don't worry, honey. I'm sure IG will be in the expansion."<br />
Image:LCB Abortion.jpg|FOR THE EMPEROR<br />
Image:LCB DOMESTIC VIOLENCE.gif|Hormonal Taldeer is hormonal.<br />
Image:LCB DOOOOOOOOM RIDERRRRRRR.png|Love Can-DOOMRIDER NA NA NA NA<br />
Image:1271836100524.jpg|Scout Sergeant Cyrus is less sympathetic.<br />
Image:LCB Eversor badend.jpg|<strike>Bad</strike>Good End.<br />
Image:Tyranid Notions.png|They're gonna get blamed<br />
Image:LCB Genetics.png|Bad end. {{BLAM| You know, besides being [[Heresy]], the [[Emprah]] was also thinking practical.}}<br />
Image:LCB canon.jpg|Guess who's canon?<br />
Image:Taldeer and vindy.jpg|I tried using this line with my girlfriend. She laughed at me. ;_;<br />
Image:LCB IknowIforgotsomething.png|DRAMA<br />
Image:LCB Infidelity.jpg|Daemonette hookers + prescient spouse = D:<br />
Image:LCB Kissu.jpg|"Look into my perfect eyes, you filthy mon'keigh."<br />
Image:LCB LIIVI sketch.jpg|"I want you to draw me, like one of your Craftworld boys."<br />
Image:LCB LIIVI techpriests.jpg|AH A CHALLENGE WORTHY OF MAH SKILLS<br />
Image:LCB LIIVI unmasked.jpg|"This is my grimdark face. It makes me grim and dark."<br />
Image:LCB Logo2.jpg|IN THE GRIM DARKNESS OF THE FAR FUTURE, THERE IS ONLY oh what the fuck is this shit<br />
Image:LCB NerdRage.jpg|FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF<br />
Image:LCB RipperHunting.jpg|R-ripper-chan ;_;<br />
Image:LCB Smile.jpg|^_^ SO KAWAII :3<br />
Image:LCB TerraChannel.png|A rare scene of the happy couple in something other than Blam!-o-vision<br />
Image:ANGRY-LCB.jpg|Angry Marine haet LCB<br />
Image:1232455221928.jpg|Idranel gives her opinion<br />
Image:LCB comic.jpg<br />
Image:CodecLoveBloom.jpg|[[Metal Gear Vindicare|Apparently.]]<br />
</gallery><br />
</center><br />
{{Template:Promotions}}<br />
<center><br />
<gallery><br />
Image:LCB Visual Novel.jpg|I'd let my love bloom in her, if you know what I mean<br />
Image:LCB Visual Novel Uncensored.jpg|Now with additional [[heresy]]!<br />
Image:LCB_Promotions.jpg|I JUST ADVANCED IN RANK<br />
</gallery><br />
</center><br />
<br />
[[Category:Warhammer 40,000]][[Category:Stories]][[Category:Stories/Love Can Bloom]][[Category:Stories/Warhammer 40,000]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Lamenters&diff=298676Lamenters2014-02-27T08:35:08Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Where are they now? */</p>
<hr />
<div>{{Stub}}<br />
{{Infobox Spess Mahreen Chapter<br />
|Name = Lamenters<br />
|Heraldry = [[Image:Lamenters Livery.jpg|center|140px]]<br />
|Battle Cry = For those we cherish, we die in Glory! ;_;<br />
|Number = Unknown<br />
|Founding = [[21st Founding]]<br />
|Successors of = [[Blood Angels]]<br />
|Successor Chapters = None, they die too much<br />
|Chapter Master = Malakim Phoros<br />
|Primarch = [[Sanguinius]]<br />
|Homeworld = None, Fleet based<br />
|Specialty = Surviving and fighting for the helpless, and being hated for it<br />
|Strength = Less than 400<br />
|Allegiance = Somehow, still [[Imperium]]<br />
|Colours = Mustard yellow with black & white detailing.<br />
}}<br />
[[File:Lamenter_Space_Marine.jpg|300px|thumb|left|They may be unlucky, but they'll fight on no matter the odds.]]<br />
The most fucked-over [[Space Marines|chapter]] in Warhammer 40K history. Cursed to die horribly, turn to [[Chaos]], or [[Troll|both]] in every single bit of fluff they appear in. You think the White Scars got fucked by [[Games Workshop]]? Nothing compared to the Lamenters. Think the Chaos Pretty Marines got owned hard by [[Angron]]? Nothing compared to the Lamenters. Think Afriel Strain soldiers are cursed? Nothing compared to the Lamenters. Think that the Raven Guard, Salamanders, and Iron Hands got beaten horribly on [[Horus Heresy|Istvaan V]]? ''Nothing'' compared to the Lamenters.<br />
<br />
They are truly the Unlucky Marines. But you know what? If there are good guys in W40k, then they are undoubtedly it. They have been endlessly persecuted by the very nation they fight for, and they even fight their own nightmarish cynicism and despair, yet they still fight on because they refuse to abandon the innocent and the helpless, and it is their burning star that keeps hope alive for one more day in that dark world.<br />
<br />
==How unlucky can they get?==<br />
<br />
The Lamenters were formed during the [[21st Founding]]; while most Chapters founded at that time had some kind of mutation, the Lamenters ended up not suffering from the Red Thirst and Black Rage, unique among the [[Blood Angels]] and their descendants. Unfortunately, they seem to have been the specific target of [[Tzeentch]]'s eternal dicking ever since; they have been cursed with more misfortunes than any other chapter out there. Its even gotten to the point where Imperial scientists are wondering that the hell is going on.<br />
<br />
As if it couldn't get any worse, eventually the Black Rage came back. Sometimes you just can't win.<br />
<br />
===List of how hard the Lamenters were screwed over:===<br />
<br />
*Founded during the cursed founding, earning them distrust among fellow Space Marines. Being a fleet based chapter, they decide wisely to depart to the fringes of the Imperium to crusade against the xenos and the enemy without, rather than be mired in conflicts within.<br />
*Were eventually recalled to the interior of the Imperium by <s>[[Tzeentch]]</s> the [[High Lords of Terra]].<br />
*Tasked by the High Lord of Terra to partake in the defense against [[Abaddon|Failbaddon's 9th Black Crusade]]. They were abandoned by the Mortifactors chapter in the defense of Corillia due to their origins. Being the heroic fuckers that they are, they decided to stay and fight anyways, and try to save the innocent people. Outnumbered as they were facing against numerous combined traitor forces, only 200 marines were left after the [[Ultramarines]] and [[White Scars]] finally gave enough of a shit to came in to reinforce them.<br />
*The 200 survivors were subsequently lost in the warp after a freakish warp storm appeared. In a rare show of things for them, they did however return afterwards, ''after fighting the whole way out''. Which of course just made other Space Marines trust them even less. <s>It is speculated Tzeentch only changed his plans at the last minute (!??!!)</s> {{BLAM}} {{BLAM|Heresy!}} so he could screw them over more. ''What a dick.''<br />
*Were asked to partake in and to defend the area around the Maelstrom along with the [[Red Corsairs|Astral Claws]] and the [[Mantis Warriors]] after they got back to strength. For once, their fellow warriors the Astral Claws and the Mantis Warriors actually cared about them and the Lamenters had finally found true, believing friends. Then [[Red Corsairs|Lugft Huron]] decided to instigate what would become the [[Badab War]] with the Imperium. Understanding a trend here yet? When he does, the Lamenters and Mantis Warriors are drawn into the conflict as well out of bro ties to the Astral Claws - there is no way they are going to abandon their first and best friends. In an ambush by the [[Minotaurs]] chapter, they were so brutally fucked over that only 300 marines were left after the fighting, most of whom were wounded. And then the Minotaurs stole a bunch of their ships, like a [[Blood Ravens|certain other chapter]]. Only later do they learn that Huron and the Astral Claws have fallen to Chaos.<br />
*Started the Corinth Crusade with 300 marines on hand; 2/3 of them became casualties.<br />
** Added: After the Crusade, Marneus Calgar wanted to awarded them with a few dozen honors for saving millions of civilians, but due to the losses (both theirs and civilians) they didn't feel like winners and turned them down. Despite how this was a case of manly tears, most Space Marines instead took it as an insult to their spiritual liege, so everyone hated the Lamenters even MORE.<br />
*In another rare show of things, they were actually granted a pardon along with the Mantis Warriors. But again continuing this theme of getting fucked over, they had to do a penitent crusade for a hundred years ''without'' being able to replace losses or recruit new Marines (i.e. their fate would be in the Emperor's Hands now, and theirs alone). Their tattered banner was given to the [[Sisters of Battle|Adeptus Sororitas]] for them to repair and re-sanctify. The Sororitas wept as they wove the ''Banner Of Tears'', as they contemplated the life of the chapter, and how these glorious bastards refused to stop believing in their fellow Man, despite everything they had went through.<br />
*They again wisely decided to crusade on the borders of the Imperium and against [[xenos]], lest they wind up getting fucked over in another internal squabble. But continuing this getting fucked over theme, in their first crusade action, they happened to encounter the [[Tyranid]] Hive Fleet Kraken. With only less than 400 marines on hand, they hold out to try to allow as many people as possible to escape.<br />
*The return of the Black Rage and formation of a Death Company meant that the cure was a bust.<br />
*Perhaps even worse than all of the above, their colour scheme is masochistically hard to paint correctly. The yellow is alright, nothing wrong there. But the thing that basically makes the army Lamenters instead of any random yellow marines is the shoulder pads and their teeny tiny perfectly straight detailing. Even doing it with a ruler or masking tape is damn near impossible. Anyway, as a result the Lamenters are cursed to be the least represented official chapter in the game, and almost certainly even less than a lot of fan made and random bullshit chapters. To play Lamenters, you need to be an uncommonly good painter and have a taste for being fucked over in the fluff, on the tabletop AND for hundreds of hours of painting. Certainly an acquired taste.<br />
<br />
==Where are they now?==<br />
The Lamenters today are now almost dead, presumably OM NOM NOMed by the Tyranids. Only a few broken companies of marines are confirmed to be alive and fighting. Only time will tell whether the Chapter will be able to survive their Crusade in time to recruit more Neophytes, or whether they will finally be added into the Hall Of Heroes on Terra. However, while they continue to exist, and no matter what horrible fate befalls them, [[Fist of the North Star|it can be assured these heroic fuckers will selflessly continue to fight for Mankind]], and quadrillions of ungrateful souls the galaxy over.<br />
<br />
They are some of the baddest asses to ever don [[pauldrons|power armor]]. Every ''single'' thing that tried to screw them over, they proceeded to open up cans of [[Rage|FUCK YOU!]] in its general direction and despite losing marines every time, THEY ARE STILL STRONG, SURVIVING AND [[Imperial Guard|HOLDING THE FUCKING LINE.]]<br />
<br />
<br />
There are only two Lamenter characters confirmed to remain today: Brother Chyron, a very sad [[Dreadnought]] that serves with the [[Deathwatch]].<br />
Malakim Phoros is the other, Chapter Master of the Lamenters and having served for over two centuries. He is a highly aggressive close combatant, carrying the Black Rage in his heart and likely one of the few Lamenters to have a glaive enarmine, let alone artificer armor.<br />
<br />
Lamenters may be played as Blood Angels. Malakim Phoros has survived to 6th ed as a 'Blood Angels' HQ who excels in close combat. <br />
<br />
{{Template:Marines-Official}}<br />
[[Category:Warhammer 40,000]][[Category:Imperial]][[Category:Space Marines]]</div>76.121.77.226http://2d4chan.org/mediawiki/index.php?title=Dawn_of_War_II&diff=169094Dawn of War II2014-02-24T03:16:31Z<p>76.121.77.226: /* Multiplayer */</p>
<hr />
<div>[[File:DOW_II.jpg|thumb|right]]<br />
'''Dawn of War II''' is the sequel to [[Dawn of War]] and was released on February 19, 2009. Unlike its predecessor, it has [[Tyranid|Tyranids]].<br />
<br />
It stars Sergeant Avitus, who hates you, Sergeant Tarkus, who is [[Indrick Boreale|ba]][[Bald Marines|ld]], Spike Spiegel (also known as Wolverine from the X Men), and a bunch of 'mos. And your Force Commander avatar clearly spends more than the sanctioned amount of time maintaining his hair. Actually, every single fucking space marine officer (with the exception of Tarkus, obviously) in this game does so, resulting in a ''HAIR''ESY-ridden gameplay experience. Also features the return of Davian Thule, who tragically lost both his eye and his sexy accent after the fighting on Kronus. Davian Thule can also be called "Davian Cool" in this game.<br />
<br />
The game features the Blood Ravens as the only playable campaign faction, and throughout the course of playing they fight Orks, because they’re everywhere, Eldar, who are attempting to slow the Tyranids' progress to their craftworld, and Tyranids. In classic Spess Mahrine style, your tiny band is more than sufficient to cunt-punch an entire [[Tyranid]] hive fleet back out of the Milky Way (while 'liberating' war gear from as many other Chapters as possible). Such is your reputation that your initial one and a half squads are expected to turn the tide of an Ork invasion. Only three units and your commander may be taken along in any mission, and eventually two sergeants will need to stay home because there are six in total. There are drop pods available to carry more men, <s>but it is suspected that Wolverine (or Spike Spiegel) encouraged the rule so that he could remain on board and write bad poetry about the futility of life.</s> Anyone who doesn't take Cyrus along for every mission is [[Indrick Boreale|BALD AND FEWLISH.]]<br />
<br />
Most of the ridiculous dialogue that started “[[METAL BOXES]]” and other memes is now handled by Spike Spiegel (who is also Wolverine) and Avitus, who are either very sad or very angry (respectively) all of the time. At one point, Spike Spiegel spoils victory celebrations by reminding everyone that they’re all going to die some day – he argues the point until everybody agrees and is no longer happy, and then he goes on to say they should save their happiness for when they are dead. Thanks, you emo. Go join the fucking [[Raven Guard]], they like them some Scouts.<br />
<br />
Despite everything written, the dialogue is actually pretty good for a Dawn of War game. Especially when the young (relatively, he's around 80) Assault Sergeant starts reflecting on the melancholy of becoming 'one with the chapter,' you know, if you're into overbearing, melodramatic prattling. Of course, Wolverine (Spike Spiegel) strongly encourages the emotional, cynical complaining during the monologue. Srsly, Cyrus jumps in to keep the complaints coming in the middle of the monologue.<br />
<br />
It was pretty fun to play once through, although repetitive since all the maps are reused two or three times each. There wasn't much point in replaying since you've technically already beaten everything twice or more.<br />
<br />
==Sad Day in the Imperium==<br />
Relic was bought out by Sega and still have the license to make 40K. The guys who made Total War are confirmed as making Warhammer Fantasy games. There, all better.<br />
<br />
But still, the idea of the spess marheens coming to the aid of the obviously abhuman Sonic and Tails to do battle with the rogue Techpriest Robotnik would be hilarious. <br />
<br />
... I just hope Matt Ward doesn't read this, or they'll probably wind up in the next Grey Knights codex.<br />
<br />
==Chaos Rising==<br />
[[File:Chaos_Rising_boxshot.jpg|thumb|right]]<br />
[[File:Chaos_Rising_TVCM.jpg|thumb|right|HAIRESY will be maintained regardless of loyalty!]]<br />
The first expansion is called Chaos Rising and was released on March 11, 2010. In this game, Relic has realized its heinous mistake and has decided to include the Chaos Space Marines and the option to turn your Blood Ravens into Chaos Space Marines.<br />
<br />
Featuring a warband of Black Legion Kayoss Spess Mehreens (with the addition of [[Eliphas]], whose soul Abaddon purchased), a bunch of new units (Chaos Dreadnought, awesome [[Khorne]] and [[Nurgle]] stuff, Genestealers, etc), a corruption meter changed by your actions in game (which determines whether your Spess Mehreens are chaotic or not), some nice ice planet called Aurelia, and a [[Space Hulk]]. Apparently, according to the developers, no moar missions will be exactly the same. Also! An exciting new character known as Jonah Orion the Librarian! In a shocking twist, it turns out the mysterious [[Minorities in the Imperium of Man|black]] librarian teammate was not the daemons, amazingly enough ([http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nveHagB16Cc] unless you decide to screw canon), despite being the one with a direct connection to the warp.<br />
<br />
==Retribution==<br />
Retribution was released on March 1, 2011 and was said to re-feature base-building to some degree, multi-faction campaigns and the possible coming of the Inquisition to Aurelia. Characters include Kaptain Bluddflagg, an [[Freebooterz|Ork Pirate guy]] doing what all Orkz do best (choppin', fightin', killin', lootin', and rockin' a crazy west country accent while doin' it, 0:49 in linked video) but sadly isn't Gorgutz. Other confirmed factions include the Eldar (where you play as an Autarch) and 'Nids where you play as a really OP Hive Tyrant with the ability to generate units and regen health when those units die, creating a perpetual motion machine of health regeneration that lets you just troll your way through the whole game. The Swarmlord is nothing but a call-in super unit, to the disappointment of all. Sorry. So if you're looking to get your '''BLAM!''' on... well, here's your chance. The story is rather clear cut, an Imperial Exterminatus has been declared on the sub-sector for not getting its shit together; many lols ensue. It also appears Gabriel Angelos is in for a rematch against that spritely little Khorne daemon he accidentally unleashed way back in in the original Dawn of War. The constellation of armies that fight in the sub-sector resembles that from the original DOW as well - the enemy factions are the Eldar of Biel'Tan, the Orks of the Bad Moons Clan and the Chaos Space Marines of the Alpha Legion.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, each 'campaign' is effectively exactly the same. Each mission is identical regardless of faction (except for the buildings; Chaos get warp portals, Loyalists get teleportariums, etc), but the dialogue is unique. Oddly, they all seem to experience the same events - Eliphas is treated to the same Scottish monologue about Dah Behnbleed as Diomedes. He just doesn't react as well.<br />
<br />
Oh and before we forget to say it, Everyone's Favorite [[Imperial Guard|Red Shirt Army is back!]] And they brought [[Baneblade|Presents!]]<br />
<br />
<br />
[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=andBbJMcu6M Trailer link]<br />
<br />
== Characters of Dawn of War II ==<br />
[[File:Hurf Durf.jpg|400px|right]]<br />
<br />
* Farseer [[Idranel]] - She's the incredibly racist Eldar Farseer leading the Eldar on Aurelia. She's more racist than most traditional Eldar and because of this, she spawned the mini-meme "Double Mon-keigh" which is kinda equivalent to Double Nigger. She gets killed in Angel Forge after Tarkus bitch-slaps her with his Terminator armor's power fist.<br />
<br />
* [[Gabriel Angelos]] - DoW's Gabe. From here, his role is more of an advisory and critiquing one since he never appears in-person in a mission (apart from the final mission against the Tyranids). <s>Will probably</s> Returns in Retribution, leading the remnants of the loyalist Blood Ravens against Kyras <s>(though, sadly, he is once again not available to play)</s> Playable only in the tutorial mission for Retribution, but that means fuckall.<br />
<br />
* '''[[Davian Thule|Davian Cool]]''' - Makes his return to DoW as a dreadnought this time around, causing him to easily be an ace in the hole for most missions thereafter. In the expansion he can rip apart enemy vehicles and turn them into health and damage upgrades for the rest of your marines (which mysteriously disappear after your current deployment - he was only using duct tape). His Alzheimers seems to have improved somewhat, and he is capable of speaking more than two sentences before forgetting that he left the iron on back at the chapter keep. He is awesome in-game, capable of killing armies by smacking his fist on the ground resulting in tyranid/ork/eldar/[[Cultist|kay-oss]] spess mehreen giblets at a rather ridiculous distance (the radius is twice as long as he is tall at maximum) and also stunning everything that is still alive for just a few seconds shorter than the time it takes for this ability to recharge. He can also sweep his assault cannon and instagib everything in a 90 degree angle in front of him, or he can use the multimelta sweep (best leveled up) and melt entire armies (as long as they are at close range) and erase titanic amounts of a boss's health in one go (because Predator armor is really painted butter), which makes fucking bullshit bosses like [[Ulkair]] and [[Martellus]] far more manageable. In addition he can charge and gib everything in his path, shatter cover, taunt vehicles and walkers to a one on one duel (if he's venerable and wins, he grants your entire strike force a fuckhueg bonus), lastly he can shut down and regenerate his health really quickly and, if you put enough points into stamina, he can still be controlled in this state (although his speed is reduced to a crawl). He's totally awesome as a Venerable dreadnought because he'll be killing enemies so frequently that you'll pretty much always have an combat bonus up. Once you get him, you'll wonder how you ever lived without him. He is sadly killed in Retribution by Eliphas (maybe), and many shed manly tears upon his death.<br />
<br />
* '''[[Blood Ravens Force Commander|The Force Commander]]''' (Aliases include: FCHair Gel and FC Vanilla Ice) - Is declared renegade after Chaos Rising (no, not hair-esy, just regular heresy. He's already a hair-etic). Despite being called, 'the only guido ever to assume the rank of Force Commander', the Force Commander's voice is provided by the same guy who does Gabe's voice in DoWII. This makes his voice in the cinematic make him sound quite old and gruff when compared to Thaddeus. This was likely done because no one would want to play a teeny guido voiced Spess Mehreen. EVER. Is also, paradoxically enough, from the Jersey Shore. Got declared a renegade and left behind the b&hammer he dropped on Ulkair for Diomedes. Calls the 'Hammer of the Nameless', it's a kick in the balls to those who downed Ulkair with Lightning Claws or specced him into a shooty Force commander. His name is Aramus in the novels, though various conflicts between the novels & games canon has many fans insisting Aramus is a totally different guy. They're bitches like that. <br />
<br />
* '''[[Avitus]]''' - Hates balls-of-steel Guardsmen with a passion due to the Kronus campaign. He was also <s>molested</s> brutalized by them during childhood, never fully accepting that he probably deserved it. During the game he expresses anger at everything, including anger at his own chapter for numerous reasons, making statements bordering on treason by the rigid standards of a Space Marine chapter. He's just an angry guy. He frequently asks aliens to show him their fury; or in fuckwit's terms, to get angry at him. He will also very, very frequently say "more corpses" after leaving yet another Xeno/Heretic dead. When he's in terminator armor he has an assault cannon by default, which is awesome, and can also mount a shoulder-mounted cyclone missile launcher to fuck vehicles and infantry over, but his squadmates still have storm bolters; it's not really a problem, since by level 30 their storm bolters will still deal like 1000 damage per shot against freaking tanks. In canon, he was actually the traitor in the Force Commander's squad, and was slain by Tarkus. <s>If</s> [[canon|When]] he turns to chaos he turns into a Khornate Terminator Havoc (TT doesn't really have a designation for heavy raged chaos termies), fucking your shit up with assault cannon sweeps and cyclone missile barrages.<br />
<br />
* '''[[Cyrus|Spike Spiegel]]''' (AKA Wolverine or sometimes even Cyrus or Nancy) - Will whine, cry, and generally detest everything and anything that happens as a matter of character and principle. He's trying so hard to be a misunderstood badass. Just so hard, the poor deluded fool - although to his benefit he is hard to understand. It's hard to understand what his fucking problem is, for example. He was probably [[FATAL|raped by Tyranids]] while he was in Deathwatch. Is voiced by the normally hot blooded [[Steve Blum]]... What the fuck happened, Steve? If he turns traitor he tries to stage a coup, citing the [[fail|incompetence]] of leaders like [[Indrick Boreale]] (making it the one emotional outburst the player will actually sympathize with). Along with Tarkus he has the honor of being the most ridiculously unbalanced character in the game. Once you level up his will and strength discipline high enough, he can cloak for virtually the entirety of a mission and shit explosives WHILE cloaked. So yeah, with a bit of microing, he can basically fuck over everything alone when he's equipped with free remote charges and mines, throw in a sniper rifle to get rid of pesky high-value targets and an access to an easy suppression weapon and there's basically nothing <s>short of end-game bosses</s> can stop him. Have fun with that.<br />
<br />
[[Image:Tarkus.jpg|thumb|right|Tarkus [[/tg/ gets shit done|gets shit done]].]]<br />
* '''[[Tarkus]]''' - Killed a Necron Tomb Spyder on Kronus by shoving a grenade into its head, a clever ploy which led to the loss of his arm (replaced by cybernetics), his hair, and half of his face. Apparently he also owns a flamer awarded to him by the Salamanders Chapter, since the Salamanders don't really know what else to give people on any occasion. Unlike Avitus and Cyrus, who could never blend into most known societies today because both struggle desperately to understand more than one human emotion at a time, Tarkus is actually pretty normal for a Space Marine. What little angst he does display is usually about the sorry state of the chapter, or his intense hatred of [[Eldar|spess elves]]. If he turns traitor he decides to save the chapter by going on a psychotic killing spree with his new BFF, a possessed bolter. In game Tarkus is stupidly unbalanced. If his will discipline is leveled high enough, he can both spam grenades and can master the fine art of Grenade Fu, which allows him to throw 3 grenades at once, guaranteeing that anything in a tight formation is blow to smithereens. If you max out his stamina he literally cannot die while tactical advance is active, cementing the poor bastard's position as a breathing orbital strike beacon for the rest of the game. His taunts make everyone RAGE.<br />
<br />
* '''The [[Khaine|Avatar of Khaine]]''' - The avatar of [[Khaela Mensha Khaine]] is summoned once in both the vanilla game and Chaos Rising by the Eldar. He was a motherfucker of a boss during the original game due having the highest health of any enemy in the original campaign, insane damage and calling in loads of Fire Prisms, but was somewhat easier in Chaos Rising.<br />
<br />
* '''[[Scott McNeil]]''' - SCOTT MCNEIL! MIGHTY IS HE!!!<br />
<br />
* '''[[Thaddeus]]''' - Supposedly an ex hive ganger. This is almost impossible to believe for a number of reasons. One is that Thaddeus is probably the most hair-etical member of the bunch, especially considering how he manages to make that shit stay despite flying around with a jet pack all day. Two is that he's the one who decides to start whining in the middle of the game about how emotionally jarring it is to become a Space Marine (which Cyrus aggressively approved of). I'm pretty sure gangsters rape you for that nonsense. Though it's difficult to tell due to the lighting in his talking head's box, he has blond hair; and as we all know, all blond men are evil. If he turns traitor he decides he saved everybody in the first game and that he needs to "save" you, by assault jumping on your face until you stop moving.<br />
<br />
* '''Gordian The Apothecary''' - Aside from Tarkus, the only other character in the game who's dialog does not strictly adhere to only one human emotion. Called out Cyrus on his pessimistic bullshit. Was killed when the Armageddon was shot down.<br />
<br />
* '''[[Martellus]] the Techmarine''' - Some lazy fuckwit on board a strike cruiser who's sole job it is to tell you bad news. Is secretly Spike Spiegel. His Thunderhawk crashed on Typhon shortly before the final battle in the vanilla game and, using only plot-armor, managed to survive for a year alone and crippled against Ork lootas, Tyranid remnants and the newly arrived Chaos Marines. You find him in one of the first Chaos Rising missions, and it's the only mission where you can control him. If he becomes the traitor he expresses some displeasure about the whole being left to die thing, and expresses it by busting out a custom BAWKS that does fucking retarded amounts of damage and takes fucking forever to kill. In an actual plot TWEEST, Martellus is CONFIRMED in Retribution as being a Blood Raven loyalist along with Tarkus, Cyrus and Diomedes. Actually, he's a pretty cool guy, in that he's not as aggressively annoying as Cyrus. Did I mention he has an [[awesome]] helm and is double red?<br />
<br />
* '''Governor Vandis''' - The planetary Governor of Meridian and the most useless character in Dawn of War 2. Instead of helping the player, he just got high in his pleasure palace while two strippers sucked his dingy. He also tried to out-Blood Raven the Blood Ravens by stealing their artifacts ([[wat|including full suits of Terminator armor]]), but was caught when Angel Gate was attacked, and so his attempt failed. In Chaos rising he committed heresy and joined up with the Black Legion to attack the newly promoted Governor Derosa's holdings in hope of regaining leadership. He lost. Oh, right, you never see him.<br />
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* '''Governor Ellena Derosa''' - An adviser to Governor Vandis and eventually the de facto Governor of all of Meridian after Vandis took off to his playboy mansion and left the planet to die to the Tyranids and Chaos forces, she's also the only useful Imperial Guard commander in the series (up until Retribution anyway). She was originally told by Vandis to stall the Blood Ravens, but had enough of his bullshit and finally helped the Blood Ravens in their defense against the Tyranids and Chaos legions in both games. She also told Thaddeus to fuck off when she had enough of his criticism. Avitus has the hots for her since you don't normally see too many Imperial Guard officers who can tell Space Marine Sergeants to shut the fuck up and listen, but unfortunately for him she is a [[heresy|xenos loving]] [[Idranel#Dear_.27Farseer.27_Part_One|lesbian]] .<br />
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* '''Warboss Bonesmasha''' - The Ork Warboss who's supposedly the Warboss of the entire Waaaagh! on Aurelia. He can be fought in an optional mission near the end, which rewards you with another Terminator suit. He's famous in DoWII for having a FUCKING high health counter and ridiculous damage, the highest of any unit boss in the game. The Tyranid Hive Tyrant Alpha has nothing on this guy. Hell, he is so Orky that he can withstand multiple lance strikes from orbiting ships. Though hilariously, with a bit of tactics and a max-leveled Cyrus with a sniper rifle and remote charges/mines or a well-built Tarkus/Hairgel tag-team, you can pretty much solo him without much trouble.<br />
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==New characters of Chaos Rising==<br />
* '''Apothecary Galan''' - He found Kyras on the space hulk Judgement of Carrion a long time ago, and was corrupted by Chaos after spending too much time on the wreckage. Once you infiltrate Captain Diomedes's base you have the choice to kill him and his terminator veteran bodyguards, who are also heretics. If you do, he'll be back to his old self and tell you that Kyras is evil and stuff, and you can then blow up Diomedes's base and not have to kill him. <br />
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* [[Abaddon]] - Because destroying a dangerously depleted Space Marine chapter fighting a civil war with itself is just the sort of victory he needs to win back his 'street cred'. Bwahaha, just kidding. He'll still lose. <br />
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* [[Araghast the Pillager]] - The Chaos Lord of the Black Legion responsible for Eliphas' resurrection. He is shown to be superior to all prior Chaos Lords, including Eliphas, due to his superior Voice acting, [[Khorne]] Worship, and Terminator armor. He is defeated because Relic handled his gameplay terribly, and because Eliphas was an ungrateful dick who let him die. However, Araghast is an enormously powerful unit in actual gameplay terms (ie: Multiplayer) and rather fun to be around, regardless. He's perhaps the best hero unit in the game due to his top end damage when deployed with a Blood Maul or a pair of Lightning Claws. Other benefits include immunity to suppression fire early on in the game, his ability to reduce enemy range to almost nil, and his ability to reduce enemy squad damage by a sizable margin every time he kills a unit and his extremely high health and his vampiric health regeneration. [[Butthurt|He is clearly the hero of Chaos Rising and the mere idea that he loses to some effete snob with an arrogant and unpleasant fanbase makes the game moar tragic than Hamlet and Othello put together.]] (But he IS on the boxart, so...) He is also a devotee of Khorne and, unlike Crull, totally awesome. He is a master of the art of insult, as is evident by his creative and awesome taunting of the Blood Ravens on the mission where they kill him. Also awesome because his strategy revolved around portals, and not Defilers. He was eventually killed after getting Sindri'd by Eliphas, which wasn't really that surprising since Araghast has the attention span of [[Lord Bale]].<br />
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* '''Captain [[Apollo Diomedes]] of the 1st Company''' - Diomedes is a helmet wearing jerkass, but damn if he isn't awesome (he's a 1st Company Veteran after all). At first, he kill steals the sorcerer you were sent to eliminate with gusto, then tells you and Gabriel to stand down and get the fuck out of the sector. As a result, Angelos sends you to Calderis to blow up his base. If you kill Galan, you don't have to kill him and he will realize that Kyras is a heretic and joins Angelos's side. This would mean that the 1st, 3rd, and 4th companies would be on Angelos' side, and since the blood ravens are only at half strength, poor old Kyras will only have 200 marines to his name, which would mean that he'd be majorly screwed. He has a pimping white helmet and gold trimmed [[pauldrons]].<br />
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* '''[[Jonah Orion]]''' - Gabe's new librarian buddy after Isador got executed for [[heresy]] on Tartarus and a member of the player's squad. He was absent in the first game due to the fact that he played a rousing game of mindfucking with the Tyranid Hivemind for weeks so Gabriel's fleet could enter the system and hamper the Tyranid forces altogether. Jonah is a unique character in the entire WH40K storyline, considering he's the first confirmed negro Space Marine in the entire Imperium who isn't one of the [[Salamanders]], and also the second black guy to appear in the game just after Inquisitor Toth. This is a lot considering 99.9% of every last non-Salamanders personality in the Imperium is white. Well, aside from the Tallarns, who are Scottish Arabs, and from whose stock Jonah and Toth likely hail from. He's pretty powerful in game, he can have a variety of useful/devastating abilities with his tomes and you have a chance to acquire a piece of armor that allows you to infinitely spam the Rosarius wargear for temporary invincibility, fuck yeah. He becomes a rape machine when he is upgraded to the point that he will toss soulfire and smite as part of his normal ranged attacks, dealing massive amounts of ranged damage to anyone stupid enough to get his way. If he turns out the traitor, he's actually possessed by a daemon controlling his body like a puppet after Kyras sold it the codes to circumvent his psychic hood for some stale old pork rinds. In the end, you are able to kill his daemonhost form because he is [[Awesome|fighting the daemon from the inside and preventing it from regenerating]].<br />
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* '''Ulkair the Great Unclean One''' - Ulkair is a Great Unclean One of [[Nurgle]] who was imprisoned by Kyras long ago in Aurelia, but the prison used to hold him started to break, so he was able to exert his influence into the world. He's the final boss in Chaos Rising. Possibly because Relic heard people say that the Alpha Hive Tyrant in the original campaign was too easy, they made Ulkair absolute hell. He is famous for being THE toughest boss in the entire series up until retribution, where he's replaced by Kyras. He basically has a 7-digit health counter (So his HP should be around 1 million or more) and is capable of 1-shotting your LV.30 kitted-out Force Commander if he isn't in Chaos Rising-grade terminator armor and is the only thing that [[Davian Thule|Davian Cool]] can't hold in CQC without dying at least once. He can also vomit on everyone, doing around the same damage as an artillery barrage from the Signum, do Eliphas's sweeping doom, and can pull one of your sergeants with his intestines if they start doing kite moves so he can OM NOM NOM him. Fuck The Avatar of Khaine and Warboss Bonesmasha, they're easy compared to this lardass.<br />
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* [[Eliphas]] - He's in the expansion, as a mini-boss no less. Successfully Sindri'd Araghast and assumes leadership of the Black Legion forces. He fails eventually. Almost as annoying to fight as Martellus, due ot spamming doombolts and bloodletters at you. Eliphas appears in Retribution as well, surprisingly as the Chaos Lord. [[Abaddon|Thank the ever competent Black Legion Chaos Lord for that]].<br />
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== Characters of Dawn of War: Retribution ==<br />
Retribution had a vastly different cast in comparison to the original game and CR, so a new section is in order.<br />
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[[File:IG.jpg|thumb|right|Contender for manliest IG commander yet? (Make him yell "SPARTA" and the setting is complete)]]<br />
[[File:Inquis2.jpg|thumb|right|Multiple covers: Collect them all!]]<br />
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====Blood Ravens====<br />
* Plot: Diomedes is tasked by Inquisitor Adrastia to find proof that would absolve or damn their Chapter Master of the numerous accusations of heresy.<br />
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* '''Captain Apollo Diomedes''' - Diomedes finally gets his big break and now assumes the role of the "Force Commander" in Retribution. He lost his pimpin' white helmet, though, and is revealed to be (surprise surprise) bald. He is also called the 'greatest warrior the Blood Ravens have ever seen,' by Azariah Kyras, and proves it with his two handed poweraxe/thunder hammer which does a motherfucking shit ton of damage to anything in its way, even if it's rather slow. He's thoroughly outclassed by Eliphas in terms of damage, but he's generally tankier than Eliphas despite the latter being encased in Terminator armor. On the bright side, he does more damage than Bluddflag. Some consider him to be the spiritual successor of Indrick Boreale. As of the latest patch, he has become insane, fully upgraded to victory is the single most damaging power in the game, if harder to aim than sweeping doom. Charge into any mob of infantry and watch them explode into a fountain of gore. He quickly gets an upgrade that let's him get health back for each attack and kill (and then ANOHER ONE) making him unlikable in melee, when in battle cry mode each of his attacks knock over hordes like bowling pins, his hammer opens up vehicles like cans, his heal power has an utterly ridiculous range, oh and each of his commander items is silly, the banner unsuppresses everyone and heals them, the pack let's him drop in the midst of a blob and throw everyone around or set up for a charge, and iron halo makes him invincible. <br />
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* '''Spike Spiegel''' - Spike Spiegel has once again returned to try to become a misunderstood badass (again). Out of all his fellow squadmates, Relic just HAD to put Cyrus back in because he's apparently the "cool bad-ass" even though he spends most of his time whining about how fucked up the world is. He's still pretty damned good, but he's not as broken comparatively, since everyone else can use gear for free too. He's very handy for getting rid of those fucking noise marines. Overall however, he's vastly eclipsed by the Assault Terminator honor guard squad you can bring in his place, especially considering they're the only source of Assault Terminators in the game. Get focus, a good rifle, his old kit of explosives, and the power to use abilities without revealing himself. With the best rifle he can turn any infantry he shoots into a blob disrupting bomb that suppresses everything hit by it, with focus he literally slows down time and unleashes rapid fire sniper rape that can let him wipe out a squad before they can even shoot back or turn a dozen enemies into explosives. And high powered shot instagibs just about any infantry, plus he can clear buildings like a pro.<br />
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* '''Martellus''' - Martellus, that fuckwit, has secretly joined Diomedes. Unlike the last game where all he did was tell you bad news without doing shit about it, he's probably gonna do SOMETHING to help you, considering he's part of your squad. If you haven't guessed, his role is a Techmarine. Give him a melta and he will eat people and tanks for fucking breakfast. End game he gets a nifty as fuck power axe and an ungodly powerful melta, the axe when combined with powerful blow fucks over infantry, the melta eats *everything* , and he can repair a tank from across the map while fucking over the enemy. Do not fuck with the tech geek. Make sure to upgrade energy to get Blessing of the Machine Spirit, use it on a Land Raider and turn the last few missions into an absolute joke.<br />
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* '''The Ancient''' - He does not speak, since after he killed Avitus (Who was canonically the Traitor), he took a vow of silence to atone for past sins, but his actions speak volumes on the battlefield. He does speak after Diomedes finally realizes that Kyras had been manipulating him all those years. Hand him a plasma cannon and he'll buttfuck most everything that can be thrown at him as long as you can keep him out of melee. Also, arguably the most versatile hero of the squad since he can use anything that isn't a 2 handed melee weapon, a Shotgun or a Sniper Rifle. Can also get his hands on a jump-pack for faster thievery. He's secretly Stig's Space Marine cousin. Spoiler: he's Tarkus. Give him the Shadowscale armor wargear that renders him permanently invisible and chapter rites accessory, and a plasma cannon, plus the final offense ability to call in air-strikes, then watch him demolish everything in his path with impunity. This includes your troops, so stay the fuck away.<br />
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====Orks====<br />
* Plot: Kaptin' Bludflagg's Kill Krooza is shot down into Typhon, presumably by those poncy Eldar gits. After killing off the entire Alaitoc warhost on Typhon under the impression that they shot down his krooza, he is later contacted and hired by Inquisitor Adrastia to hunt down and kill Azariah Kyras in exchange for an arranged battle with 3 Imperial Regiments on a battleground of his choice. The deal got botched after Kaptin Bludflagg also wanted Adrastia's flashy hat, which she denied in giving. Kaptin Bludflagg only decides to stomp Kyras good after Adrastia told him that she shot down his Krooza, sending him into a quest for revenge, fightin', lootin', winnin', and hats. Apparently he thinks he has to go through Kyras to get her hat.<br />
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* '''Kaptin Bluddflag''' - The Ork warboss leading the Waaagh on Aurelia, awesome with a capital A since he's wearing a god damned pirate hat with a bionic eyepatch. Sadly, he isn't Gorgutz, so many a veteran Dawn of War fan were disappointed upon hearing the news. Has a large interest in [[Hats]]. Does a whole belligerent sexual tension routine with Adrastia, despite being an asexual animate fungus. Alas, he is a far less capable melee combatant than Eliphas (though he has more health than Eliphas by a large margin and can actually support his army). However, he will always be superior due to being funnier and the mere fact he's a motherfucking pirate, which trumps Chaos Lords in Terminator armor any day. His WAAAGH! ability is pure awesome sauce, eventually making the boyz immune to suppression and buffing damage, healing, completely refilling energy (including Bluddflagg's, so effectively WAAAGH! becomes a free power), reinforcing all the ork squads (thus eliminating the need to go back to reinforcement points), repairing damaged vehicles and reviving incapacitated heroes, and summoning additional temporary (and free) ork squads. And the damage bonuses become stronger as more orks are under it's effects, meaning that if you fill up your squad cap with orks, Bluddflagg will allow you to rape everything in seconds. WAAAGH! also recharges very quickly. He talks quite a lot, and apparently he can outsmack Daemon Prince DOM-Kyras. Watching him go toe to toe with a Godzilla sized Daemon Prince, then knocking his head off with a rock, is awesome. He hijacks an entire Tyranid, Ork, and Daemon infested Spacehulk, The Judgement of Carrion, which is totally and absolutely badass. I mean he manages to get a ten thousand something year old floating pile of fused together space junk fully operational in spite of the fact that there is like an entire Hive Fleet's worth of Tyranids in it. He's an ork who can read, write, do basic calculus, and outsmart a Space Marine Chapter Master, which easily makes him basically the ork equivalent of Einstein mixed with Shakespeare. He's voiced by Patrick Seitz, who also voices [[Abaddon|Abaddon]].<br />
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* '''Mister Nailbrain''' - Mekboy and Kaptin Bluddflagg’s First Mate. "I'll SET ME GITFINDA TA PANSY BOSS!" Once you level him up to the point where he no longer has setup times for deffguns, he becomes very, very useful; after this point you'll handily outdamage the big shoota, so Nailbrain becomes an invaluable suppressing fire provider. His Fighting Juice is very, very handy since it heals your orks, revives incapacitated squad leaders, and improves their combat ability; use it to supplement Bluddflagg's WAAAGH! ability. His Stikkbombs, like all Grenade powers, stop being that good for garrison clearing midway through the game since even Heretics and Guardsmen will be able to take multiple stikkbombs to clear out, give them to spookums who can do so much more with them. However, give him the ability to passive heal vehicles, and the ability that makes vehicles come back from the dead and quite quickly lulz ensue as you go over the Population capacity,make your vehicles are nigh on unkillable and extremely strong, then use a combination of Kans and Tanks with the speed boost ablility, you can also have his passive heal and vehicle revive if you chose his honor squad-A vehicle, quickly this Deff dread can turn into a walking rape machine that costs nothing and doesnt count towards population. He talks the second most out of the Orks, he has almost as many lines as Bluddflagg. <br />
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* '''Spookums''' - The Kaptin’s Kommando Nob. Doesn't say much, but tends to be funny as shit. His starting shotgun is rather useless since you have to piss around with optimum range bullshit (stand more than a few feet away and you'll take forever to kill even basic infantry, stand too close and you'll be in melee, and even if you can get it right heavy infantry laugh at shotguns which is bad since you'll have to kill a lot of Chaos and renegade space marines) and the Big Shoota is just backup for the Deffgun, but he really starts to shine when you can give him a rokkit launcher. The Rokkit launcher does have some of the optimum range bullshit that the melta and shotguns have, but you can do maximum damage from a reasonable distance which is enough to blow up most every vehicle in two or three shots with frontal armor hits and it reloads really fast (way faster than the missile launcher). The Rokkit launcher is also great for building clearing with either rokkit barrages or normal shots (both of which work by simply blowing up the building). Also, one of his abilities essentially has him open a portal to the infinite grenades dimension, and combining this with his zipline means he can absolutely devastate blobbed enemy forces. When you level his offensive tree he randomly tosses around grenades with an amazingly high percentage of his attacks, which amazingly let's him out damage *Neroth* with just stikkbomms, with smoke grenades he throws cover everywhere, trolling shooty foes, with blind bomms he makes the enemy unable to do anything but stare with a stupid look on their face before they get torn a new asshole, Burnabomms turn everything to ash, and he can have two or even three at once, and he tosses out clusters of both! The actual tossing power when leveled hurls a dozen grenades, some of which explode on impact which is an excellent way to troll blobs and cover camping pansies. Oh and his grenades don't hurt your boyz, feel free to charge away! His zipline not only lets him hop across the map and rip apart infantry, but also revives any fallen heroes. And the cherry on top? He can do all this invisibly, is decently tough, and not half bad in melee. He's easily the best ranged hero in terms of straight-up damage. Neroth, Kain, Tarkus, Eldar kitted out for dakka, Merrick, Castor, Nailbrain, Cyrus, Dakka Martellus, ranged Hive lord, none of them even come close. Him showing up will turn the battlefield into a Michael Bay movie. <br />
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* '''Brikkfist''' - A Storm Nob that has joined with the Freebooters. No other character in the entire WH40K universe has a name as awesome as his. He is fucking amazing, with the hammer he can hurt just about everything, he'll be able to automatically cause suppression by just being there, and disembowel followed by stab will kill pretty much any infantry unit that is not a boss. Also, fully upgrading his jump abilities causes him to explode on takeoff and landing, fly completely off the screen, and generally be hilarious walking artillery. Even so, he's still outclassed by Kain, who is Eliphas' mute slave, in terms of damage and staying power. With a Tankbusta bomb he'll also be able to rapidly put a hurting on any vehicle, allowing you to finish them off much more easily. He talks quite a bit, but far less than Nailbrain or Bluddflagg. He is an appreciator of really great punches/smacks, saying "Now dat was a propa smak" after seeing Daemon Prince Kyras double hammer fist Captain Angelos, to which Bluddflagg replies "Aye, the second 'ardest y'es gonna see today if ya don't keep movin'." He can get traits that heal him in melee and an axe that also heals him in melee, suppresses people by just being there, taunts enemies into attacking him even after he explodes in their midst, and then rip out their guts before gibbing one poor fool. Awesome. Oh, and he wants to ride a [[Exterminatus|cyclonic torpedo.]]<br />
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====Imperial Guard====<br />
* Plot: Inquisitor Adrastia, a friend of Gabriel Angelos, is requested by him to try and halt the exterminatus by finding proof of Kyras' heresy. As this is an unofficial investigation, Adrastia uses General Castor's and Merrick's guardsmen as their forces.<br />
*[http://forums.relicnews.com/showthread.php?253393-Death-Korps-of-Krieg-Previews-Shuma-s-Wargear-Room%28Ranked-compatible-Mods!%29&p=1045225405&viewfull=1#post1045225405 Now available in awesomesauce Krieg form]<br />
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* '''Inquisitor Adrastia''' - The female Inquisitor of The Ordo Hereticus assigned to purge/investigate the Aurelian sub sector of xenos, heretics, and mutants. She has artificer armor, a pimp hat and a pop-collar that rivals that of [[Creed]]. Likes: [[Exterminatus|EXTERMINATUS]], The [[Emprah]], Burning Heretics, Gabriel Angelos. Dislikes: Everything else. Chief Weapons: Surprise and Fear. Also likes to cheer her men up by telling them that if they fail, Aurelia will be Exterminatus'd and she'll be the only one allowed out. So tsundere for Bluddflagg. No, really. We wish we were kidding here. She apparently has a thing going for Angelos, and when Kyras smacks him in the end of the IG campaign (remember, Angelos only survives the pit of Maledictus in the SM campaign) she gets really pissed, first shouting "CAPTAIN ANGELOS! NO!" and then telling Kyras that he had better pray that he dies this day or she will make sure that his life will be filled with as much fucking pain and misery as possible. That is a totally badass thing to threaten a FUCKHUEG Daemon Prince with. However, despite her general coolness, she is outclassed by her honor guard Storm Troopers, primarily because what she can do, either her Storm trooper honor guards or LORD Bern can do better (Storm troopers pump out more dakka with their melta kits and LORD Bern is infinitely more durable and better in melee.) Seriously, give Adrastia the upgrades which affect Honor Guards, give them the melta kit, and watch them wreck anything in their path. Rapid firing Melta guns, with stun! Also the owner of the ONLY DAMN INFERNO PISTOL IN THE ENTIRE GAME. And she replaces it with a glorified bolt pistol if you level the power branch. [[Derp]].<br />
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* Lord General [[Castor]] - A sorta English looking/sounding General, Castor is the main hero of the Imperial Guard campaign, notable for being one of the few Generals that has plenty of [[Sturn|Grit]] and for having a bionic left arm (more on how he got it later) that allows him to one-hand some of the heaviest weapons in the setting and still be able to hit anyone on the other side with any accuracy. Came to Aurelia to fix the problem that the fuckwads in charge made and to help out Adrastia with her work. Has one of the largest Trophy Rooms of any Imperial General (rumors say that, barring the Emperor's own, it's the largest in the Galaxy) and has every single form of Tyranid that has ever been encountered (He lost his left arm on his semi-successful hunt for a [[Hierophant]] bio-titan that was wrecking shit on one of the planets he was assigned to, said Hierophant's head is now his most prized trophy) and a handful of Daemons thrown in for good measure. Despite being the cocksure, glory-hungry and clueless General he appears to be, believe us when we tell you he's a lot smarter than he looks, just ask Kyras. And lastly, he's [[Creed]]'s second cousin, and is one of the few other Cadians that can pull off Creed's signature Tactical Genius (he was allowed to learn this technique when Creed found out that an [[Abaddon| old friend]] was in charge of the Chaos forces there), though he'll never be able to turn a rock into a tank or a bush into a Baneblade, he can turn a [[METAL BOXES|Metal Box]] into a bunch of soldiers (though he needs a base-squad to do that first) and he can turn another Metal Box into a Leman Russ Trollface. He also somehow aims a sniper rifle perfectly with one hand, while holding a sword and running; that man's got skills. In combat, Castor's strength comes in the form of melta guns. Give him the ability that allows his Imperial Guardsmen bodyguard to carry what weapon he's carrying (except sniper rifles), and enjoy your 3-man melta squad. He can also do an exploit that gives you infinite power and requisition, allowing you to buff your heroes to ludicrous heights. <br />
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* '''Commissar LORD Bernn''' (Not putting LORD in capital letters is heresy, and so is putting LORD in the wrong place.) - The math is simple, Commissars = blam, Commissar LORDS = HEUG BLAMMING! He is a support hero, and ironically, supports his men by murdering them. [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xrrCY7dgaqs Lulz ensue if you put him in a Chimera...] Is the most OP hero in the campaign, since leveling his summary execution makes the benefit apply to your whole force, meaning an army of catachans and storm trooper meltas is much faster, has longer range, rapid fire shotguns/meltaguns and insane damage, making them annihilate anything within range. And the crown on the epicness? Getting the invulnerable trait makes complete invincibility apply on top of all the other benefits, with summary execution recharging before the invulnerability run out. This makes Kyras's slog a 15-minute joyride with minimal casualties. Alas, he has no lines during the campaign, which fucking sucks, though his actions speak louder than his hammy voice in the field. He's usually seen alongside Adrastia in the field and is known for showing the troops under his command that he has even bigger balls than them by [[Awesome|giving a daemon prince a nice powerfisting]] and coming out of it still smelling of roses. A '''massive''' fan of [[Commissar Yarrick]] and is rumored to have yanked one of his eyes out so he could put on a bionic eye just like his idol and he seems to lampshade this every time he gets one of his hands on a Power Fist. He is a proud owner of one of [[Commissar Fuklaw]]'s old Laspistols powered by [[RAGE|RAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEGGGG]]! enabling LORD Bernn to one shot everything suqishier than terminators with a bit of concentration and focused RAAAAAAAEEEEGGGG. Of course, you can go ahead and disregard all of this and take the honor guard because FUCKING OGRYNS HOLY SHIT.<br />
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* Sergeant [[Merrick]] - Technically not a new character, but Retribution is the first time he's is playable. Merrick is such a badass he blasted through a suicide mission to destroy a Tyranid hive fleet, the return of Ulkair AND the ten years of non-stop war in-between. Plays similar to Tarkus and made Avitus choke on his bitching about the Imperial Guard. Unfortunately, he's also a Goddamn pseudo-heretic who places the lives of his men above the Imperium. HERESY! He got really mad with Castor after the Exterminatus of Typhon, telling Castor that he allowed thousands of guardsmen to die, but Castor convinced him that it was a necessary sacrifice and by the time DOM-Kyras is dead, they seem to have become friends more or less... or perhaps something... More? Yes, they do. Bros to the end. ''Righteous''. Give him the ability that eliminates set-up time for heavy weapons and an epic autocannon, plus the ability to call in air-strikes, and he becomes a 1-man army of rape against anything short of Kyras.<br />
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====Eldar====<br />
* Plot: The Eldar campaign revolves around the prevention of an Exterminatus act on the planet Typhon. Since that there is a craftworld buried in the planet, as well as thousands of soul stones, the Eldar assist Inquisitor Andrastia with her investigation of Azariah Kyras' corruption, therefore stopping the Exterminatus, saving the soul stones, and making Slaanesh very unhappy... At least, that's the plan.<br />
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* '''Autarch Kayleth''' - The Eldar commander which the player assumes the role of in Retribution. She has a squeaky high-pitched voice compared to Idranel and constantly annoys Ronahn with her day-on-end bitching. Has access to the same grenade dimension as Tarkus and Spookums, but combines it with jumping everywhere to become a lolhuge plasma grenade bombing run. She can do a lot of damage but is delicate, so she works best as a hit-and-run type melee hero. Have her jump into the middle of a group of enemies, let them all charge into surround her in melee, then have her toss grenades all around her, ''then'' have her do a grenade-drop jump back out of melee. Laugh as the enemy eats a ton of grenade spam. Almost every weapon you collect in the campaign will be exclusive to her.<br />
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* [[Ronahn]] - A former Pathfinder of Ulthwe, but he has renounced his ties to the Seer-led craftworld and now wanders the stars. He probably left because of that dick Eldrad. Sadly, he can never be badass because his gun looks like a giant dildo.(However he still is the most badass in your hero squad..) Still though, he survived Ulthwe's failed attack on Angel Forge and the [[Black Legion]]'s incursion in the sector, that has to account for something. Also, he's Taldeer's brother. As of now it is not known where he fits into LCB canon. Is able to solo missions if you pimp him up enough and leave him with Ranger Long Rifle, as he can BOOM HEADSHOT just about anything given sufficient time and provided he remains undetected.<br />
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* '''Veldoran''' - An aged and experienced Warlock accompanying Kayleth on her mission. Can make people's heads explode like in Scanners. He likes to piss Rhonan off with his powers of foresight, which some interpret as implying that he was secretly sent by Eldrad to dick around with him. This is debatable, as he is from Alaitoc. He is by far, one of the most hilarious melee fighters in the game. His "Ethereal Slash" ability basically gives him the equivalent of Eliphas' Sweeping Doom. Level his offensive tree, which vastly improves his offensive skills, to maximum and he'll krump anything from hordes Guardsmen to Nobs in an instant with an Ethereal Slash, level up his health tree to 4 points, where he no longer suffers from suppression, and Veldoran basically becomes a glass-cannon version of Eliphas. Then, give him a Good Singing Spear, the Destructor Runes (For a bit of ranged dakka), plus some heavy armor, then watch him hilariously pulp down armies in a heartbeat.<br />
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* '''Elenwe''' - A Farseer, a master of prediction, helping to guide Kayleth on her mission. Looks surprisingly (read: exactly) like a 16bit pallet swap of Idranel. She doesn't have anything special, apart from the fact that she's the only source of reliable heals for your squad. A good staff and Runes of Channeling is a good setup for her, then level up her health tree to the point where she passively restores health to nearby allies. Then get 2 squads of Wraithguards, stick her near them, and watch your firing line of D-Cannons lay waste while doing a bang-up impression of an objective-sitting Plague Marine squad.<br />
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====Tyranids====<br />
* Plot: Aside from returning to contact with the Hive Mind, the rest is perfectly clear: The Tyranids will just '''OM NOM NOM''' everything edible as usual.<br />
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* '''The Hive Lord''' - Not the swarmlord as originally thought (he's busy in the Octarius sector anyway), but simply a hilariously tough Hive Tyrant. He's the only Hero for the Tyranids since their campaign plays more like a troop-focused RTS. He's trying to lead the tyranids to resume contact with the Hive Fleet in deep spehss, but something is interfering with his telepathic communication to the fleet and the Hive Lord will solve that problem in the only way that ever works; with lots and lots of violence. He becomes one of the most awesome hive tyrants ever by charging right at a titan sized Daemon Prince and hacking away until DOM-Kyras becomes weak enough to be decapitated by a capillary tower bursting out of the ground. He leads the Hive Fleet to return, make the Malleus ships run with their tails between their legs, and omnomnom Aureilia. In the first Tyranid mission, you immediately have to kill Sergeant Merrick, which is the second most emotionally devastating moment in the game. He is easily the best tank out of all of the Heroes, having more hit points at the start of the game than many heroes will have by level ten (though, to be fair, he has no one to back him up so he needs to survivability), and the fact that the engine considers him a vehicle lets him break missions that weren't designed for vehicles in half.<br />
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* '''The Hive Mind''' - No longer simply just a woman's voice with a bit of an echo, the Hive Mind's voice has been reworked into somebody who sounds like they're gargling nails and mayonnaise as they speak (as well as being mildly creepier and more capable of expressing emotion). Ironic, considering the voice is done by a crazy woman. The Hive Mind essentially plays the role that Gabriel Angelos did in the Dawn of War II and Chaos rising campaigns, giving you plot exposition and commands. The other half of the plot exposition comes from intercepted communications from your enemies in response or anticipation to your actions.<br />
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====Chaos====<br />
* Plot: Eliphas is now under oath from Failbaddon, his job is to give him every last Blood Raven soul and prevent Kyras' ascension, lest Kyras try to take over as Warmaster himself.<br />
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* '''Lord Eliphas''' - has somehow regained his badassitude. His lines are usually the most violent and best voiced out of all the heroes (tied with the Orks), and he does the most damage out of all the other heroes in the game when specc'd as a Khornate Champion. In addition, in his campaign he has a rematch with Davian Thule and wins. Killing Davian is likely the hardest thing in the game to do from an emotional standpoint, like being forced to shoot a dog you've loved and taken care of for most of your childhood. With his terminator armor (which he obviously stole from Araghast), his constant screaming of 'BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!' and his fun gameplay, Eliphas seemed to have been back to his old self right up until he starts sucking up to Failbaddon. Failbaddon exploits Eliphas' belief in his arms to kowtow Eliphas into servitude. Eliphas then goes on to kill copious amounts of shit and becomes a Daemon Prince after killing another Daemon Prince (Kyras). He can also find a Bloodletter's Hellblade (sadly not a Bloodthirster's Axe) and a Daemon Sword, easily the best commander weapons. He is also capable of soloing missions and land raiders. Turning him into a full Khornate/Nurgle Lord turns him into an all-powerful, unstoppable rapemachine that makes Bluddflag and Diomedes look like shivering pansies in comparisons. He'll out-damage all of them with their best possible respective weapons with almost anything you can get your hands on, and he'll get two passive DoT auras that drain a combined 50hp every second and heals him. Also, he gets health back with every hit. Upon giving him the highest level armor, he looks, suspiciously enough, exactly like Araghast did. Complete with a helmet. Thanks to a mod, you can successfully get rid of Eliphas' baldness and give him a helmet from the get go, making the Chaos Campaign completely awesome. Upon defeating Kyras, he arguably gets the best finishing move, he delivers some particularly macho words and then opens a Warp Rift. After which, a Chaos Star appears and [[Fist of the North Star|CHAINSAWS KYRAS' FUCKING HEAD OFF IN A SPRAY OF GORE]].<br />
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* '''Neroth''' - Chaos Sorcerer devoted to Tzeentch and perhaps the most prissy character in the game. He is an agent of Abaddon sent to make sure that Eliphas fulfills his promise. He's not a very SSSSSINNDRIII type sorcerer despite having the same VA as Sindri, and is mostly concerned with blowing shit up. Giving him the Artifact of Ahriman and kitting him out with 5 points in Offense lets him eat loyalists and shit free doombolts powerful enough to wipe out four squads of Guardsmen at once on very hard, while abaddon hits the hard targets. In the campaign, Neroth serves a role somewhat akin to a nagging wife, consistently and ineffectually screeching at Eliphas for his decisions. He promptly shuts up after Kyras is slain, however. Some think that Eliphas killed him after ascending to daemonhood after sacrificing the Aurelian sector to Khorne. Some have also speculated that he is gay tsundere for Eliphas.<br />
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* '''Kain''' - Chaos Champion. '''HE LIVES IN DEATH! PEACE THROUGH POWER!''' Whoops, wrong RTS series. He doesn't talk much. Or at all, really. You can fool yourself into thinking that he's Chaos Rising's Eliphas while thinking Retribution's Eliphas is Araghast. Confused yet? Give him the ability that increases his power and rate of fire at the cost of health damage, give him armor that increases his regeneration, hand him a lascannon (or a autocannon), and watch vehicles pop like popcorn. Despite not being a main character and having no lines, he's still capable of out damaging Bluddflag. Even then, Kain doesn't even come close to Eliphas in DPS or durability.<br />
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* '''Varius''' - Plague Champion. Take out the 'a' and place the 'i' second and it will turn out that his name is an anagram for "Virus", which pretty much suits him. Also ugly as fuck but that's unsurprising considering he's a follower of Papa Nurgle. Doesn't talk much either. Can turn out to be a fine healer if stamina is filled to max and you get him metabolism. He's also a pretty good tank, which is to be expected from a nurglite and especially a plague marine champion/sergeant WHO FEELS NO PAIN! However, his main use is his zombification track, which makes all allies, as well as anything he kills or infects, temporarily come back as plague zombies to wreck shit for you. Zombifying a heavy weapons team and having it decimate their own lines is a thing of fucking beauty, as is having unstoppable waves of Cultists blowing themselves up, zombifying, and exploding in a shower of plague when they die again. Nurgle is a generous patron. Almost as much as Khorne. Varius doesn't have a shining role in terms of attacks like Neroth or Eliphas, though, give him the a good Chainaxe or bilespewer and watch him zombify entire infantry squads in record time. He's also the only source of heals for your squad since Chaos don't get stim kits, so you'll be forced to bring Varius into your missions, whether you like him or not.<br />
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* '''Ulkair''' - He survived, and is a servant of Eliphas now. Not nearly as tough as before since his health isn't even above 10,000, but just enough to do his job of being a siege unit.<br />
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====Others====<br />
* [[Azariah Kyras]] - In the past he backstabbed his way up to the position of Chapter Master of the Blood Ravens, and, as you would expect, it turns out he is a filthy [[RAGE|Khorne worshipping sorcerer]]. However, <i>Khorne hates sorcerers, Librarians ARE NOT the same thing as sorcerers. Sorcerers use arcane knowledge, runes or words of power; a Librarian merely draws upon the power of the warp via the natural connection of their minds as psykers and then beats the fuck out of things with it. While not as Khorne pleasing as mangling someone with your bare hands, beating the fuck out of something with your mind is better than beating the fuck out of something with calligraphy or an equation.</i>) Khorne probably let him serve him despite his sorcerous ways because of how well he could scream the standard Khornate mantra of: [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y6uNBKop1go "BLOOD! '''FOR THE BLOOD GOD!''' SKULLS! '''FOR THE SKULL THRONE!'''"] as well as a new one "LET THE GALAXY, '''BURN!'''" so well that Khorne just ''had'' to take notice. Kyras used his dickery to get the Imperium to Exterminatus Typhon and sign off a big chunk of a Space Marine chapter to him. After all of this Khornate dickery he walked over to a lava pool in Cyrene where he merged with the Daemon of the Maledictum to become a Mega-Uber-daemon prince the size of a fucking skyscraper (and remember, Sindri only tapped the Maledictum's power when he became a super-daemon prince, Kyras fucking became one with it.) He became the best update to the generic daemon prince look in all Warhammer 40k history, even though he only partially ascended so he was still mortal. Gabriel Angelos found him out and came down to fight him with a bunch of terminators, Jonah Orion, and a Dreadnought or two; but then Diomedes/Bluddflagg/The Hive Lord/Kayleth/Adrastia/Eliphas also found the fucker out and came down to Cyrene just after Angelos. Angelos and his crew futilely fight against Kyras, accomplishing nothing besides killing some Daemons and Chaos loonies because they forgot to blow up the Offering Altars of buttfuckery that were making Kyras invulnerable and protecting him while he finished his ascension. Kyras accidentally tells his weakness to the orks/other space marines/eldar/imperial guard/tyranids/other chaos loonies by telling his chaos looneys to protect these altars. The protagonists destroy the first altar; after which Kyras/DOM gives Angelos one hell of a double hammer fist and disposes of the rest of those space marines. Then they mow down the rest of the altars and make Kyras vulnerable and fight him. After a long, long, <i>LONG,</i> <b>WAY TOO GODDAMN LONG</b> fight, Kyras is on death's door and the protagonists call down their death from above global power (Eldritch Storm, Orbital Bombardment, Artillery Strike, Rok Bombardment, Capillary towers, or Empyreal Abyss) and finish the fucker off, by hitting him a lot of times before blowing his head off and causing his bloated corpse to slump back into his pit. Because he used noise marines, he isn't as bro-tier as Araghast. <br />
**Of course, if you're playing as Imperial Guard, Kyras is a complete joke. Grab a hundred Guardsmen with Plasma Guns and Flamers, a couple Melta armed Stormtrooper teams and a Baneblade, and you're laughing as Kyras crumbles in under five minutes.<br />
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* '''Sergeant Lysandros''': The sergeant of a renegade Blood Raven contingency, sent to destroy Argus settlement on Calderis to remove traces of Kyras' passing there. He gets killed after you level his base. He's known for sending a large contingent of [[Razorback]]s to reinforce their base, because we all know that Space Marines love to [[Firaeveus Carron|HIDE IN MEHTAL BAWKSES! THE COWARDS! THE FEWLZ!]] You do have to take away his metal boxes in order to take out his HQ.<br />
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* '''Tyrea''': An Eldar Banshee Exarch who survived Ulthwe's failed attack on Angel Forge. She still has that annoying voice and is an overall bitch, even to fellow Eldar.....well except for [[Ronahn]], who she manages to remember before she gets sacrificed to become the Avatar of Khaine in the Eldar campaign.<br />
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* '''Maledictum Daemon''' - The Khornate Demon which Gabriel Angelos accidentally released on Tartarus a few years back, during the original [[Dawn of War]]. Gabe gets his shit together and goes off to have a showdown with him while he's merged with Kyras. It is totally fucking glorious. Especially when Gabriel gets motherfucking flattened by a two-fisted hammer blow that could have probably squished a Baneblade. He probably dies (as in permanently dead, and yes you can kill a Daemon off for good) with Kyras after the two get decapitated by roks/orbital bombardment/bombers/whatever the fuck you used to finish him off.<br />
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* '''Abaddon the Despoiler''' - Serves only to screech angrily and threaten Eliphas to fulfill his promise of delivering all the souls of the Blood Ravens to him but can't actually do anything to him since he lacks arms - luckily for him, Eliphas is completely unaware of Abaddon's "little" problem. After Eliphas wins, he literally squees that Eliphas is awesome, the fickle cunt.<br />
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* '''The Mad-mek''' - The boss on the Judgement of Carrion for everyone except the Tyranids, he got stuck on the Space Hulk, went insane from being stuck there, even by Ork standards (assuming they have any) and is currently trying to build a teleporter to get out. As he's a paranoid nutcase, he attacks the player and you have to kill him. Mainly famous for his hilarious dialogue, after you escape the Exterminatus of Typhon Primaris you will be introduced to this motherfucking hilarious sonovabitch. He hams it up to epic levels, easily out-hamming the rest of the DoW2 casts combined. "I FINKS IT'LL BE ANNUVER DECADE BEFORE I CAN ZAP MESELF OUT A DIS '''BUG...INFESTED... 'ELL 'OLE!!!!!!'''" Can be very annoying to fight because he has a tendency to teleport units in melee with him out of the room you fight him in when they get into melee, meaning he takes a while to kill and has no trouble putting rokkits in your tanks. Dies in seconds to dreadnoughts.<br />
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* '''Jonah Orion''' - Playable only in the campaign prologue. Also gets double-hammered along with Angelos. Though in the SM campaign, while Gabriel survives, Jonah, lacking the ridiculous levels of Plot Armor Gabriel has, follows the age-old tradition of "the black dude dies first".<br />
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* '''Commander McTavish''' - Name based after Graham McTavish due to the fact they they sound very alike. Has a Scottish accent and red glowing eyes indicating that he is corrupted by chaos. He chases the players with a Baneblade in one of the first missions, leading to many shat pants. When he finally gets the players cornered, the players hack into the defensive weapons and blow the baneblade into smoldering ash.<br />
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* '''The Traitor Sergeant''' - The sergeant who led the traitor guard on Meridian. He glorifies [[Khorne|Corn]] and spams air support. <br />
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* '''The Traitor commander in a Banewolf''' - An Imperial Guard commander who turned into a [[Nurgle]] cultist after he and the overwhelming majority of his regiment was corrupted by Ulkair. He has a pretty decent VA, though not very Nurgle-ish.<br />
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* Those three Space Marines who have British accents for some reason - Undoubtedly the best VA'd characters in the game. These 2 renegade marines and 1 Chaos Space Marine have well done accents. Likely the only link to the fact that Games Workshop is a BLEEDING BRITISH COMPANY. They are also well characterized by being able to scream Blood for the Blood God better than any body else. <br />
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* '''Davian Thule''' - OK, he doesn't have a major role in Retribution, in fact he's only seen in the early part of the campaign as Chaos. Though some suspect that it's him going Toe-to-Toe with a Chaos Dreadnought in the Tutorial Mission.<br />
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==Last Stand==<br />
Just before the release of Chaos Rising, Dawn of War 2 updated with a new game mode, as did the successor game, Dawn of War 2: Retribution. This new game mode, [[Last Stand]] is a fun co-op game mode where you play as one hero from any of the existing six factions (specifically, the Space Marine Captain, Tyranid Hive Tyrant, Chaos Sorcerer, Ork Mekboy, and Eldar Farseer. Retribution further adds the Imperial Lord General, a new Last Stand map, and a new DLC-only hero in the Tau Commander.<br />
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It's remarkably competent and a lot of fun to play with friends, and definitely worth checking out.<br />
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==Multiplayer==<br />
[[File:DOW2Guide.jpg|thumb|right|A Synopsis in Comic Form]]<br />
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Whilst Dawn of War 2's myriad Single-Player campaigns and [[Last Stand]] mode are generally-beloved by the playerbase, for their plot and characterization, and Last Stand's raw fun-factor, the same ''cannot'' be said of Dawn of War 2's multiplayer, which is horribly reviled by much of the playerbase for being both counter-intuitive, non-interactive, and poorly-designed. Boasting a general setup virtually identical to Relic's World War II RTS Company of Heroes, Dawn of War II's multiplayer starts off strong - multiple heroes, and some (apparent) real tactical choices for each faction - and quickly slides downhill.<br />
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The central mechanic of Dawn of War 2 is capturing points, much as was the case in its [[Dawn of War|predecessor]]. Unlike the original, however, Dawn of War 2's smaller scale and extremely slow econ-building means that the bulk of Dawn of War 2 is focused around a much smaller group of units - and these magic buttons, once taken, cannot be reinforced or made harder to take by building structures or guns on it, like Dawn of War 1 - and worse, with most defense structures costing population and resources in a game with few to spare, you cannot afford to use these on any but the most-critical of the magic buttons: the Victory Points. This frequently means that games between newbies to DOW2 frequently turn into merry-go-round battles as everyone tries to take everyone else's magic buttons, only to lose theirs and need to capture it again. The comp opponents, even on the hardest difficulties, are well-known for being willing to foster this behavior, and [[Meme|will sooner die than allow a magic button to go un-humped]].<br />
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One might think that this metagame design means that securing and holding terrain would be of critical importance, something that was true in the Tabletop 40K game for Table Quarters or Objective games. If this is what you thought, then you ''thought like an idiot'', because if you don't keep your units grouped for maximum firepower, you can expect to lose them in short order - and with their expense and time involved replacing them, you ''cannot'' afford to lose them. Because of this, scouting, securing better terrain, and pretty much all else fall secondary to getting a big ol' cluster of early game units, moving for the magic button closest to the enemy, and (hopefully) killing their force group, ergo putting them in an utterly-unrecoverable-from situation where you already hold most of the map and they can do nothing but watch their tickets slowly bleed away. Most games of Dawn of War 2's multiplayer decisively end in about 4 minutes specifically because of this gameplay mechanic. Because of the entire metagame slowly pulling itself into this bizarre paradigm, DOW2's Multiplayer comes across as remarkably one-dimensional, since it's rare that high-level games make it beyond Tier 2 - they turn into complete curb-stomps. The ones that don't quickly devolve into the Merry-Go-Round.<br />
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Special note needs to be made for the Retreat mechanic. Intended to allow players who are risking losing units to remove them from battle so they can recover back at base, it's an incredibly finicky mechanic that [[Dawn of Eldar|happens to grossly benefit a certain faction that can move faster than most]] and is nigh-impossible for slower and larger commanders to get much use out of if they really start getting pounded. In practice, it just slows down a game which already has a painfully poor pace. With every game de-volving into either a curb-stomp or the merry-go-round, the Retreat mechanic is only one more bit of strangeness further diluting a game whose mechanics already defy comprehension.<br />
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To further drive home how bad this game's general premise is, [http://forums.relicnews.com/showthread.php?219250-1v1-Balance-thread the central focus of the metagame is not 1v1s, but, in fact, 3v3 team battles]. This setup has allowed the devs to get incredibly lazy with setups, since [[RAGE|no race actually needs to be self-sufficient in a strategy game where this sort of thing is supposed to be a critical element]].<br />
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A possible solution to this problem is to go for the early spam at T1 that the game engine seems to sell, and to proceed to go for what broken unit the faction your using has. What is still, in this game, a form is strategy, is trying to figure out what your opponent is going to do. Sure, it's a merry go round. But which magic button is going to get pressed? When are they and how are they going to rush your giant blob? How can you destroy a giant blob? So, the game, does have two sub dimensions to the one dimension of economy. The first is magic buttons. The second is the ability to press those magic buttons. Both you and your opponent(s) ability to do these to things must be kept in mind. So this leads in fact, to the use of tactics. What magic button will you protect? Because of this, the game involves a certain amount of bluffing. Positioning of each factions units in defense, either because of a bad economy but the need to protect a tipping point magic button that your opponent will probably attack or camping offensively is wonderfully different from the attack blob. Eldar for example, benefit from two guardian squads on the front line putting up shields, aided by a suppression weapon, all using the shields, while and/or rangers sit behind cover further back. When about to get hit by cc, the front line retreats, and the already damaged offense gets slaughtered. Jetpack units suddenly find that all the support units are charging at them. This is all T1 accessible. So the game is counterintuitive. Take advantage of that fact. The game is also more fun this way on Annihilation, because that means that to win you have to reach T3.<br />
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Nonetheless the the Dawn of War II multiplayer mechanics have nothing on Dawn of War, which was much more massive scale map, unit, and strategy wise, holding some similarity to the first two games of Supreme Commander franchise strategically and holding more mechanic aspects (in regards to research and economic buy method) of the third game, Supreme Commander 2 (So Valve isn't the only group that can't count to 3?). Your running around with massive and likely multiple armies and can build foward bases and have large, destructive super units that can lead the charge, along with a single commander with support commanders, and a unit dedicated to construction. Except with SPESS MEHREENS and the like. To point out another Dawn of War II lack: Dawn of War had four games, and Dawn of War II had three. This however is not the criticism. Dawn of War reached a total of ten different playable races, and Dawn of War II, Last Stand Not Withstanding Alone, had six. That is to say, they had ancient gauss robot pharaohs and their armies of robo-mummies, an almost entirely female pyromaniac military arm of the Imperium, hedonistic pirates, and the brightness of grimdark hoofed battlesuit fascists. Yes. Dawn of War II did not get to explore the cruel irony that the Tau are relatively and generally less screwed up than every other faction despite still being expansionist, led by well concealed evil pheronome lords of a eugenicist caste system whose boss resembles something between a medieval Pope, the Pharaoh, and the Prophet of Regret from a certain ring based scifi series. So, while the Dawn of War II storyline didn't need this, supposedly, I don't understand why Battle Sisters failed to show up to make Aurelia burn in the name of the Emperor in Retribution, since Sub Sector Aurelia is probably located near the craftworld of Altaioc and Iyanden (members of both appear in Retribution, Iyanden in Dawn of War I and Dawn of War Dark Crusade), and thus isn't so incredibly fringy. Furthermore, the importance of the Blood Ravens in imperial politics should be noted by the fact they were loan Grey Knight centuries ago (Dark Crusade) and had them go up against, by indirect order, loyal Imperial Guard armies twice and the Adeptus Sororitas once. All the more reason for the Ecclesiarchy to get involved.<br />
Seriously, everyone should get Soulstorm. <br />
[[Category:Video Games]]<br />
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