Editing Crimson Warhawks (section)

=Raydon Neratos=

<b> History </b> 

Cast into the Warp by the nefarious Chaos Gods, Raydon’s pod landed on the frozen world somewhere in the Lamyphrid cluster. The planet, whose name has been lost to time, was frozen desert, a world of ice and wind. For untold years Raydon survived in isolation, until one day.

On that fortuitous day Raydon awoke early, and saw a ball of fire descend into his world. He followed the streaks in the sky for a day and a night, until finally coming across the mysterious visitors.  He identified them for their familiarity, quite unlike the beasts that hunted on the ice plains. He saw their warmth, their camaraderie, and their vessel – something he had not the words to explain. He knew then, with an intensity of a burning sun that he needed to find his way on-board the fantastical creation.

His years of surviving on the frozen plains had taught him well the advantages of stealth, and his experience with the strong loud winds only made his task easier. Within moments he was into a new world. A world of metal and wires, corridors and hatches. He took well to his new environment, faster in fact than he had adapted to his old home – already becoming a distant memory – before he knew it, he had found a roaring room of warm metal.  The sounds of the engine lulling him into his first safe night of sleep.

When he awoke, he did so to the sounds of foot scuffs and idle chatter. He hid immediately, his survival instincts honed to a fine peak, he twisted the shadows around him, disappearing from sight and mind. 
And so it was, for many a years that he hid amongst the rafters and crewmen. He had migrated from the shuttle to the ship proper, he had even realized he was among the stars, he had begun to learn the language of his hosts, some of the crew customs, and had through observation even been learning how their jobs.

He began to imitate the crew, working for a time worked among them, until he grew so large that even the most uneducated rating at a glance identified him as different.  It was then that he was enlisted as one of the ships enforcers, and quickly his proficiency for violence brought him to the attention of the ships senior security officer, and its captain – Captain Malcolm Haarlock. 

Within weeks of joining the captain’s personal guard, Haarlock had taken the boy under his wing, having identified a keen if uneducated intellect, and an unbridled passion for piloting. Raydon became the captain’s protégé and adopted son, taught by the helmsmen in how to pilot the vessel, the marine commander in boarding tactics, the security officer in the principles of marksmenship, its seneschal in management and negotiation.  Raydon’s teachers became his family, and his family his teachers.  It was only a scant handful of years, less than a decade before Malcolm Haarlock lost his life, the very illness that had led an otherwise decent man into a life of piracy. 

Raydon was the obvious heir, the crew thought him a legend, one who rose from nothing to become everything, the command staff knew his mind far exceeded anything a mere human could match, the marines had fought beside him, at first as peers and later as followers.

He was elected by unanimous consent of command. And his captaincy was one of dread infamy.  His methodology and approach to piracy was radical, he did not abide by the standard convention of naval engagement, he favoured maximising the advantage of surprise, focussed on a single goal, overwhelming it, and withdrawing immediately. He would often find his way aboard enemy vessels, or send kill teams to do so, sabotage enemy sensor arrays and engines. Sending them a warning from the Dread Pirate Neratos, the warning was always simple and would bombard every comm channel available. 

– Surrender half of your goods, and your lives will be spared. Resist and burn with all of them. – 

In time his infamy became a living creature of its own. Taking on new and more outlandish traits as deeds of his exploits carried far and wide. In time those that heard the warning would immediately surrender their goods, knowing that it was the only way to stave off certain doom.  Other pirates began to operate in his name, latching onto his impossible successes.  In time his imitators and legend became too inconvenient and the newly expanding Unification forces were unable to allow such a conglomerate to persist. 

The Emperor himself tasking a naval captain, one Caprica De La Veta to bring back the head of the Dread Pirate Neratos at any cost, tasking one of his personal guardians, one of the Custodes to accompany him and ensure the deed was done. 
De La Veta, proved himself a wily and ultimately worthy enemy to the Dread Pirate, tracking him seamlessly through the void. Hounding his steps, and never falling into the traps laid for him. 

It was around this time that Raydon began to have dreams, quite unlike anything he had experienced before. He dreamt of a golden giant, backed by wreaths of black flame. A giant whose presence who seemed to banish the shadows at his feet, yet what replaced the shadows was burnt and scarred beyond recognition.
Night after night, he would dream of this giant, sometimes the dreams would change but always there was the golden giant. And so, he followed his dreams, time and time again he would evade traps set for him by the Unified Forces, though for all his brilliance and foresight, he couldn’t trap or ambush his pursuer either. And so a great game of cat and mouse began – each taking their turn playing the cat and the mouse. 

It was on the anniversary of De La Veta’s appointment that he finally deciphered the pattern in Neratos’ seemingly erratic behaviours. He correctly identified that Nerato’s own manoeuvres mirrors those of the Emperor’s own.  Neratos, he deduced had somehow tracked the Emperors movements and was closing in. 

His solution was simple and brilliant, he reported to the Emperor his findings and established a cordon, Neratos had displayed in the past an indomitable drive to achieve his goals, and a recklessness that De La Veta believed wouldn’t allow him to turn away from the obvious blockade so close to achieving whatever nefarious task he had set himself too. 
Indeed he was once again correct. Raydon using a recent “acquisition” flew straight through the blockade in Navy Frigate, posing as a returning patrol commander. Once within the outer cordon he made his way to the Emperors flag ship, and found the passage eerily easy. Mirroring his actions a decade or more ago, he cloaked himself in shadow, and made his way undetected and alone onto the Emperors flagship. 

Once their however he immediately saw the error in his ways, He had thought himself the Golden Giant. Dread and Glorious. Powerful and Beloved. He thought his dreams were leading him to ultimate self, his destiny. But once he locked eyes with the Emperor, who could not be deceived by the shadows Raydon wrapped himself in. Once he locked eyes with his Father, he knew the truth. He had been lead to his destiny true enough, but the Giant was not him but his Father – the Lord and Emperor of All Mankind. 

It has been lost to the ages what occurred in the Emperors throne room, only a handful of Custodes were present and they spoke not a word of it. In later years Raydon would say he bent his knee and pledged his undying support to his father, and to mankind. 

Shortly after Caprica De La Veta would be recruited by Malcador the Sigilite, his genius, drive, and devotion repurposed in Malcadors own Ordo.  Accounts of his deeds are sealed, though it is said that Raydon and De La Veta met on occasion, neither displeased with the outcome. Both believing that they played their parts as they were meant to, harbouring fond memories of the great chase. 

Named Raydon for it's meaning of “quick giant” in the Security Officers native tongue, and Neratos, after the Haarlocks first mate, Arsline Neratos, much to the dismay of Captain Haarlock.

<b> Personality </b>

Neratos holds himself to an incredibly high standard, a standard extremely few could meet – even among his Brother Primarchs, to the point that he found his existence lonely, having few he could truly relate with.
He had a distinct tendency to brood, rarely sharing his thoughts with anyone without encouragement.  He preferred to keep to himself unless called upon, finding peace in isolation – his mind constantly abuzz when in the presence of others. 

He found himself constantly embattled with his dark and sometimes savage thoughts, in order to temper this, he sought out isolation, and when that was not possible, the thrill of the hunt and the Emperors Vision.

One of his most defining traits is his loyalty, despite being questioned by both sides during the Heresy and even the Great Crusade before that.  Indeed it has been postulated by many scholars in the ages since that should the loyalty to the Emperor be known prior to the Heresy, the Warmaster would have committed more to disrupting their consolidation rather than attempting to sway them.

It was in fact his inner savagery that ensured his loyalty, for in order to control it fully - he needed to anchor himself to a single, solid ideal. The ideal he chose was that the Emperor was the only power truly worthy of sitting on the Throne of Terra, stating clearly he would bend the knee to no other.

It was said that the Hawk had never been anything other than his own master. And despite his ego, he never attempted to be anything other than what he was. He understood his role in the crusade – and knew he would never be a central figure of it, unlike his Brothers [[<b>TBC</b>]]. Instead he embraced his role, and that of his Legion. 

Among the Legions he had few friends, his role putting him far forward of the main action and so he rarely interacted with many of them, and those he did often disturbed him – the callousness and brutality with which they waged war. Notable allies during the Great Crusade being Aodhán Kael, Rubinek, Klaus, and Saul.  He had few friends among his brothers due to the rarity of shared deployments, and of those he trusted 3 turned traitor and the other died. In more modern times this meant he rarely sought out companionship after the Heresy, though he did grow close to Xun and Marcus.

Always the pragmatist the Hawk would never throw away an advantage when it came his way, a lesson he tried to pass onto his sons. 

The Hawk was also a superlative swordsman, he fought with clinical motion, his movements precise. His every muscle and motion the pinnacle of economy, each thrust and parry executed to perfection, no strength wasted in striking, no stamina wasted in the defence. At times on-lookers would think he was in far greater danger than he was, for his dodges and parries were often only JUST in time, only JUST wide enough to avoid a lethal blow. What they didn’t understand was this was the pinnacle of his control and skill. His superior reflexes combined with his innate precognition allowed him to fight for a time against superior combatants. He was noted among his Brother Primarchs by Klaus himself, as "a dangerous foe whose eyes were as sharp as his blade". 

The Hawk was also rumoured to be a low-level psyker, having several remarkable abilities according to remembrancers, among which were his ability to shield his thoughts from psykers, and even conceal his physical presence for periods of time.  Likewise he had an uncanny knack for sensing his surroundings, both being able to identify the location of otherwise concealed enemies and being able to instinctively react to threats that even his Demi-God Brothers could not perceive.  All of which is in addition to his prophetic dreams which led him to the Emperor, and implored him to dispatch his Vigilator Primus to the Tournament of Blades in secret – a defining moment for the Legion in determining the truth of the event.