Editing The Atalantos Worlds (section)

====Velim II, The Madhouse====
{{Infobox 40k Planet
|name= Velim II
|bgcolor=black
|fgcolor=white
|image=
|class= ???????
|orbdist= 1 AU 
|gravity= .95G
|temp= 30C
|pop= 100,000
|governor= Whoever is fastest
|system= Velim
|sector= Tygros
|subsector= Velim 
|segmentum= Ultima Segmentum
}}

Many planets in the Galaxy are Chaotic with a capital C. The Gods have claimed them for their personal toys, and each day the tortured hunks of rock are wrenched asunder in mad whims of chance. The most famous of these are surely the doomed planets near and within the Eye of Terror, for whom peace is a myth and tranquility only a dream. 

And yet there is also chaos with a little c. It is rare but not unheard of that altogether more bizarre fates might befall a world, and one such planet is Velim II, tucked away in a quiet corner of the Atalantos Worlds. Primarch Arelex often made note that Dark Age Mankind sought to push into the Core sectors, but by and large abandoned such attempts for reasons unknown. If they succeeded, a new habitable world joined the human sphere. If not, their wondrous machinery simply lifted off to orbit and disappeared forever. But on Velim II something went wrong. 

It is beyond the means of Imperial scholars to determine why, but on Velim II there are hundreds of Dark Age terraforming vehicles still in operation, wider than Emperor-class battleships and taller than Hive Spires. These moving mountains roam the planet at all hours of the day, stopping, starting and changing direction seemingly at random. Mountains are raised and leveled and raised again, seas gouge themselves into trenches where plains once rolled, misty rainforests spring from blackened volcanic debris. The air is constantly roiling with energy and storms of immense power whip themselves into a frenzy only to blow out in hours. 

Tech adepts have journeyed to Velim II for ten thousand years trying to make sense of the machines' patterns and deduce their security passcodes, but to no avail. It is hypothesized that Chaotic scrap-code infests them, or that the Core's radiation has driven their machine spirits mad. Perhaps there are Abominable Intelligences at work within the gargantua, or maybe they are simply obeying conflicting orders from men long since dead. All that is known for certain is that anyone foolish enough to approach them is captured, shredded, and used for fertilizer or spare parts. And yet hope springs eternal and the adherents of the Machine God willingly dare the hazards even so. 

During the 32nd millennia, to the surprise of absolutely everyone, a handful of human tribes were discovered on Velim II. Although the planet is technically habitable, it was thought impossible that any form of advanced life could sustain itself within the maelstrom. Multiple attempts to contact these people and spread the Imperial Creed went in vain, for the tribes are always on the move. Indeed, when placed into captivity they are quickly driven mad by the stillness, and cannot abide solid floors and walls for long. Anticipating disaster that never comes, their fight or flight reflex drives their hearts to burst.

The fastest and quickest witted among them rule, and their word is law. As soon as warning shouts are raised the people awake from deepest slumber, pumping their legs like machinery before their eyes even open. On Velim II, situational awareness is life itself, and its people can read changes in the air or earth to a degree bordering on precognition. 

The War Scribes have largely ignored Velim II, allowing the Mechanicus to make such pilgrimages as they see fit and permitting the ancient machines to continue their tasks. After all, who can say what the minds of ancient Man intended? To destroy the terraformers might be to destroy an ineffable plan millennia in the making, and that possibility is enough to stay the Marines' hand. But they do reap a certain bounty from Velim II nonetheless. 

As with any human population, there are children, though childhood is preciously short on Velim II. And though infants know nothing of the world, and adults are so imprinted with the need for constant motion as to be incapable of rest, their young children are a balance between both. They have learned many useful talents and developed immense endurance, but their brains are still mostly pliable enough for hypno-conditioning, and thus can be transformed into a Marine. 

The Velim II population is and always will be small, so few Marines are born here. But of those that pass the gene-seed trials, truly exceptional Marines are made. They rarely rise high in the ranks, and they tend to be poorly suited for life aboard the fleet or assaulting enemy positions, but for the Wandering Chapters they are tailor-made. No War Scribes are mentally faster, quicker of foot or reflex. None have keener eyesight or superior situational awareness. Even for Marines their endurance is legendary, it is often said that a man from Velim II could run a thousand years and circle a planet fifty times over before growing tired on the march. 

Their restless spirit is tempered into swift but well-planned action, a decisiveness to be envied. It is by no means guaranteed despite their genetic heritage, but almost every Chapter Master of a Wandering Chapter hails from Velim II. They are ruin-raiders, explorers, cartographers, and trailblazers beyond peer in the Imperium, wise in their breadth of experience and much respected among their more sedate brethren.

Thus is the legacy of ancient Man.