Editing Star Krakens (legacy) (section)

==Writefaggotry!==

===Tales===

Short bursts of Kraken fiction, to give you a salty, briny taste of the glory to come. No homo.

====Achab's Insanity====

The Librarian took Achab by the elbow, urging him in a low whisper: "To be so enraged, by nothing but... But a weak xeno. Achab, it is blasphemy." Before the last word had even left his mouth he felt his Lord's arm tense, and a moment later he was violently shaken off. Achab rounded on him, one fist raised as if to strike, his ink-black eyes both seeing him and seeing nothing. 

The Chapter-Master began to rant again, starting slow, building in tempo: "Speak not to me of blasphemy, man! I'd strike the Eye of Terror if it insulted me. Look outward, Barsus... All visible objects are nothing more than masks. Some inscrutable yet reasoning thing has molded their features. The Grendel... tasks me. They heap me. Yet they are but a mask. It is the thing behind the mask I hate; the malignant thing that has plagued mankind since time began. The thing that maws and mutilates our race, not killing us outright but letting us live on, with half a heart and half a lung. It is that which I hunt, and we shall not see home again 'til I have it dead at my feet. Hail all ships: Onwards, into the dark heart of the nebula!"

====The Hatred of Achab====
Commodore Achab stood on the scorched battlefield, steam rising off his bulk and lingering for a few moments in the pallid air. Pulling his chainsword out of the carcass in front of him he turned to his fellow Marines. The remains of several suits of power armour lay about the floor in miserable little heaps, several Marines were limping or being carried by their Brothers.
"Administer the rites to the dead." Achab growled quietly, his deep voice echoing across the now silent plains.
Whilst a number of the Marines started to gather up their falled brethren, one staggered towards the Commodore. His dark green armour now plastered with blood and gore from the recent skirmish, the Marine limped over to Achab. "Brother Tostvig, you will have to visit the Apothecary and get that looked at" Achab rumbled towards the Marine.
Brother Tostvig looked down and saw a gigantic claw attached firmly into his thigh, the intensely sharp claws had cut straight through the armour into the Marines skin. "I could not go to them knowing my fellow Brothers were in need of more urgent care, Commodore" Tostvig answered in an equally deep rumble.

"I do not give advice, Brother Tostvig, I give orders!" Achab bellowed to the Marine, his gaze was that of carved oak, solid and unyielding.
Brother Tostvig nodded and limped off to join the rest of his Brothers, Achab, surveying the landscape, overhead a quiet wheezing noise from a few metres away. He looked over and saw a green, scaly chest rising up and down, albeit very slowly. Achab's vision immediately narrowed, his blood boiled and his veins pulsed with anger.
Running over to the dying Xeno, he pulled out his combat knife and plunged it into the Grendel's chest. Achab gritted his teeth and hissed at the disgusting creature "From hell's heart I stab at thee." The Commodore pulled the knife and stabbed again. The Grendel's eyes rolled into the back of it's head as it took it's last breath, under the overbearing awe of the Star Krakens Chapter Master. "For hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee." Achab continued to stab and curse the Grendel until it was nothing more than a pile of wet bone and scales.

"Damned Xeno."

====The Vote of Ten Flags====

It is established fact within the Chapter that, on the eve of their great battle against the murderous alliance of traitors, xenos and cowards that so thoroughly destroyed their homeworld, all of the Brother-Captain's voted unanimously to end Achab's life.

The truth is far murkier. 

They met aboard his Battle Barge, not yet called Huginn, in a quiet reliquary in its depths. Above them Achab raged, pacing the bridge of his vessel, insisting two score scribes be constantly at hand to note down his ramblings, for the glory of the chapter. The first vote was cast, to the tune of three holdouts. Impassioned speeches were made, arguments and counter-arguments flew, as did fists and false accusations; of cowardice, betrayal and a spot in hell reserved for he who would turn on his Chapter Master.

The vote was taken again, eight to two. Haugr, Achab's own sergeant, standing in for the company the Chapter-Master commanded, and for the Star Kraken flagship, had changed his stance. Achab stood apart, he reasoned, and Haugr would stand with his brothers - so long as their leader was given one last chance to repent. Another hour passed, until finally young Isaias conceded. He was not concerned with betrayal, but rather with honour. He would have no part of Achab's death if it were a knife in the back or a bolt to the head whilst the great man slept, but an honourable death..? Ah, that he could endorse. Achab stood apart, but he deserved that much.

The vote was taken once more, and one last holdout remained: Vastergo, master of the scouts. He would follow his lord to the death, and no argument could assuage him. After a night spent fruitlessly battering the man with words, insults, promises, blows, the nine Brother-Captain's conceded that they could gain no traction, and instead banished him from the room. As he left he made one last plea: "Do not do this brothers. Achab may stand apart, but it is our duty as his vassals to move with him, not judge him. You are weary of war, I am as well. But what we do here borders on blasphemy... We don't have the right!"

His brothers would not swayed, and so Vastergo left, bearing none of them ill, but unable to stomach remaining in the same room as any one of his craven brethren. The vote was taken again. Nine in favour. Finally unanimous.

So it was that Achab's fate was decided, Achab who stood apart, if it was that he would continue to stand apart, would die alone tomorrow: honourably, but alone.

====The Fall of Achab====

The most important figure in the history of the Star Krakens is also its most reviled. Long ago, when the Star Krakens still had a home, the planet Giraud, a marine by the name of Achab was chosen to be the Chapter Master. A devoted, talented marine, his dedication to the Emperor hid a deeply obsessive nature. As the years went on he focused his attention less on the enemies of the Imperium and more upon those who he believed had besmirched the name of the Star Krakens. Eldar corsairs, Ork freebootas, xenos mercenaries, any who had crossed the path of the Star Krakens and were not completely destroyed. Soon the list expanded to include friendly forces ranging from Guard regiments who struck the decisive blow of victory, Naval fleets whose bombardments ended wars from on high, to other Astartes chapters whose mere presence alongside in battle he saw as an insult to the honor of the Star Krakens. Finally, to the cheers of those ignorant to his true nature, he announced a grand crusade to rid the sector of the enemies of Mankind. The first few years were successful, Ork strongholds shattered, the xenos mercenary bands and their Rogue Trader patrons rooted out, and uprisings and rebellions smashed by the full weight of the chapter. However, several began to doubt Achab's methods as the chapter's losses were slowly outpacing their replenishment. Soon Imperial forces began to feel his wrath as assistance requests were summarily denied, naval operations were disrupted, and even outright fighting between the Star Krakens and other forces erupted for the flimsiest of pretenses. Stretched thin and suffering from logistical problems, the Star Krakens were left weakened and vulnerable. Soon, it's enemies would come.

A most curious event in the history of the galaxy emerged. Eldar corsairs reinforced by mercenary bands joined with Rogue Traders and Ork Freebootas launched raids against the now understrength and isolated Star Kraken battle groups. Overwhelming force and numbers slowly whittled down the Star Krakens as Achab's advisors begged him to retreat and regroup at their homeworld, but Achab refused to call off his crusade. His determination led him to be dragged around the sector by wily foes as they killed his chapter piecemeal. As the losses mounted his obsession grew, promising wild riches and rewards for those who could bring down the cowards who not fight him in open battle. At last dire news reached the flagship; Giraud was under assault. The defensive fleet drifting wrecks, their fortress monastery was under direct attack from the combined forces. Achab ordered all Star Kraken forces to return immediately to Giraud but it was too late. The first ships dropped out of the Warp to witness the fall of the Star Krakens. It's fortress monastery, weapons silent, collapsing upon itself into a heap of rubble; as they watched in horror the combined firepower tore a hole through the crust and unleashed an eruption large enough to blast rocks and dust into orbit. In fire and thunder the planet Giraud ceased to be able to support life. Mad with grief and rage, Achab ordered the remnants of his chapter to follow the enemy fleet. Tracking them to a remote star system, he prepared for them to unleash a final victory upon those who destroyed their homeworld. His lieutenants pleaded with him, showing them sensor readings that indicated it was all a trap but he cast them from his war room and ordered all Star Krakens to prepare for a combined ground/space assault. That final day Achab spoke no words, resplendent in his Terminator armor he strode to the drop pods, his former lieutenants casting their glances aside.

Settling into the drop pod, his former advisers approached him one last time to call it off, to swallow his pride and find a new home for their chapter. He spit at them and cursed their names, stripping them of their honors and ranks. Ordering his troops to their pods, no one made a move. Before he realized what was happening, the doors to his pod closed. Screaming obscenities through his vox, he pounded futilely at the walls of his pod as the marines, with heavy hearts, launched him, and him alone to the enemy encampment below. Throughout his descent he never stopped cursing the Star Krakens, claiming them all to be cowards, useless little men playing soldier while he alone knew the glory and responsibility. After what seemed like hours the pod touched down and his curses and swearing gave way to rage-fueled gibberish and gunfire. The fight was brief, it's end signaled by the cruel laughter and taunts of Tarellian Dogs. As the remnents of the once mighty Star Kraken fleet turned to leave the system, the honeyed and belittling tongue of an Eldar captain sung through the vox system. Endlessly he mocked the Star Krakens for their failures and tried to provoke their wrath by insinuating the humiliations that would be visited upon the corpse of their Chapter Master. With a heavy heart, Jehu, the first of Achab's lieutenants to ask him to turn his crusade aside, told the Eldar to do what he wished with the corpse and the relics contained on the body. There was no glory contained within them anymore, no valorous history, only the story of the madman who had made them orphans.

====Siewurd of Nine Nails====

Even among a Chapter of frightening warriors, Siewurd of Nine Nails is a fearsome servant of Humanity. Standing at an imposing seven-and-a-half feet tall in his Power Armor, Siewurd towers over lesser warriors of the Emperor, and the intensity of The High Chaplain’s will is almost tangible, even among others of the Astartes. His black armor is decorated subtly with twisting brass-inlaid bas-relief images of tentacles, pierced with nails and writhing over his armor like vines. Beneath his traditional skull-helmet, augmented with filtration cables, is a face that has been described by the renowned Inquisitor Gaius Kajerian as “unnerving to the eye and to the spirit.” His flesh is pale and haggard, with pockmarked skin stretched thin over jutting cheekbones; scars of various kinds crisscross most of his body. His biological lower jaw has long since been taken from him, and he habitually grinds the adamantite teeth of his cybernetic prosthetic jaw. His eyes are the inkiest of black, and runic wards of protection, faith, and penance are carved into his flesh in a band that crosses his face, just below the eyes. 

With his left arm, he is entrusted with the mighty ''Dagonssultr'', The Hunger of the Deep . This terrifying weapon is a chain fist incorporating a Crozius Arcanum, and the massive saw blade is etched with holy writings and scripts of purgation and vengeance. The relic is one of the oldest weapons in the chapter, dating back to the days of Achab the Exile, and it is entitled of all High Chaplains. The weapon is worth considerably more than Siewurd himself, and his squad is entrusted to choose the Maw over the Chaplain's body, if necessary. He also wields a long power spear known as ''Gungnir'', and occasionally a storm bolter or bolt pistol when ranged combat is required. Siewurd’s right arm is a far different story. Much earlier in his life as an Astartes, when he was a newly appointed Chaplain in the Fourth Company, he was entrusted to lead a mission onto the world of Jjojos, a noxious sulfur world that had been belched out of the Deep quite suddenly. Their task was to conduct initial reconnaissance for the planet, and determine whether or not further monitoring of the world would be required. With a hearty squad of ten Krakens, all trained for battle, the Astartes landed on the sulfur world and quickly located signs of life; ruins of the hated Eldar, long since abandoned…or so it seemed. 

What the Astartes could not detect was an ancient Eldar communications array, and the presence of the Battle-Brothers triggered its reactivation…and the reactivation of its Wraithguard protectors. The bony constructs caught the Battle-Brothers off guard, and although they fought bravely, there were simply too many. By the time the group returned to the Thunderhawk transport they arrived on to make their mistake, only two of the original party survived; a certain Brother Majnus and Siewurd himself. Although their deaths were in no way Siewurd’s direct fault, he blamed himself for their deaths, and grieved greatly for it. In self-inflicted penance, he drove nine long runic nails into his arm, one for each of his fallen brothers, and he displays these nails openly as a sign of what he considers to be his greatest failure. Siewurd is not the kind to forget, and since his earliest days as a Chaplain he has vowed to dedicate his life to nothing but the service of the chapter. Around his fellow Battle-Brothers he is cold, distant, and eerily silent; when he speaks, it is in gravelly tones and short words. There are, however, two exceptions to this behavior. The first is his oratory, legendary among the chapter for its complexity, intensity, and solemnity. The second is his skill with the ritual Hymns of the chapter, and when these complex sagas are performed, it is often Siewurd’s deep resonance that carries the furthest and the loudest.

====Teuthys Addresses the Drowned====

They stood in almost complete darkness, silent save for the subtle rustling and shifting of their armour plate and mechadendrites. The vast launch bay was almost totally unlit save for the eerie glow of the Chaplain's armour, it's bioluminescent engravings wavering and shifting like moonlight through seawater.

"Remember!", Chaplain Teuthys whispered, his voice rippling through the silence.

"Remember Achab. Remember his sins. He was weak. He succumbed to obsession. He succumbed to the desire for vengeance. He succumbed to warlust, and his passion weighed him down like a great stone.

Achab drowned himself! Achab nearly drowned his chapter with his hubris. But we, the pure... We do not drown. Our lungs are full of saltwater and our eyes stare into the dark. We do not drown. WE RISE."

The air reverberated with the slow moaning rumble of the Dreadnoughts as they sang the Hymn to the Deep.

====Judgement by the Void====

Though the Star Krakens are ruthlessly efficient warriors with no mercy for their targets, they do occasionally take prisoners from raids. Being captured as a 
prisoner of the Krakens is a fate so horrible, even rumors of the treatment of the prisoners are spoken with hushed whispers and superstitious sailor's gestures.
The prisoners are kept encased in chains on their journey to Mobius, in solitude and darkness. Eyes covered, they are carried each to special isolation chambers built 
on to the side of the station and rechained hand and foot to a cross shaped adamantium rack. Rumors say that the prisoners are left like this for up to a week before 
anyone returns to them, subsisting only on the dripping briny water from above their covered heads.
Suddenly, when all hope is lost to the prisoner, the door will re-open. Footsteps approach the rack, and the somber and unforgiving tone of a chaplain of the Krakens 
will begin to read to the prisoner of one of the rites of drowning: the Trial by the Void. 

"Lament! Lament brothers, for this one has been judged UNCLEAN in the eyes of the Emperor. He has not felt the void! He has not drunk of the oceans and lived to tell 
the tale! Lament that this man must be initiated to the righteous path so late into his existence. He has cried out, that he is prepared for your benevolent touch. For 
what other reason could one summon forth the wrath of the Kraken?". The Chaplain then removes the overhead woolen bag from the prisoner, allowing him to gaze upon him 
in his faintly glowing robes in the otherwise dark chamber. "Allow this cretin the chance to join the blessed in the deep, and see the truth."
The footsteps fade away once again, before the door latches more securely than before.

There begins a creaking noise, slowly followed by a pop and suction. The wall of the chamber the prisoner faces is opened wide to the void, leaving them gasping and 
thrashing on the rack. Inevitably all prisoners cease their thrashing, and fall limp in the chains, at which point the chamber is closed once more and the Chaplain 
resuscitates them. 
"Oh glorious father, this one is not prepared to join you yet. Allow us this opportunity to test his willingness to become one of the drowned."
The chaplain then turns questioningly to the prisoner, who undoubtedly is unable to draw enough breath to reply to him.
"This unworthy one chooses silence in the presence of the void. He shall be allowed to think on his sins, and perhaps in the next case he shall be more repentant."
Prisoners are then left, for days on end in silence and darkness, chained to their rack. Unable to move, see or hear and kept alive by the chapter's servitors 
administering injections to them nightly upon their collapse, the prisoners are kept in their cells for time eternal from their perspective. 

The chaplains return when they feel it is appropriate, to administer the rite once more, posing the question once again upon resuscitation of the prisoner.
Eventually, their mind breaks from the solitude and exposure to the inky black of the void. 
It is said that the prison wing of Mobius echoes with the screams of prisoners, begging to be allowed to drown...

====The Council of Ten-Flags====

When the chapter’s fleet was founded, it was the first Chapter Master Huskor the Wailer who called the ten captains of his ten companies and declared: “You are my best! You are the ones I trust with guiding the troops and guiding our ships and I do so without fear or worry! So it is only fair I trust you to speak your mind and demand the proper support for your ships, each! Thus, you ten shall be my council – Represent your ship with your flag, and carry it with you when you come together. The Chapter Master who succeeds me shall be handpicked by me from among the ten of you, and he shall heed your counsel as you all shall serve him with wisdom and reason, and this shall be the same for all Chapter Masters who follow. I shall fulfil my part of this oath in all my lifetime and I shall see that all my successors shall do the same.”

The council would later be increased, as the captains were allowed to bring a retinue of two of their choosing from their crew with them to advise them in their thoughts and discussions. The captains would take their most trusted lieutenants and sergeants, sometimes even their first mate who would otherwise overlook the ship in the captain’s absence. So it was, the Council of Ten-Flags was part of the Star Krakens since its beginning, and for decades before Achab’s madness, the battle brothers would shorten the name to the “Ten-Flag council”, as it was not their nature to speak in flowery terms. And then the madness began: Chapter Master Achab, later to be known as “Achab who stood alone” would sacrifice his proud chapter of then 1500 brothers for the single-minded, reckless pursuit of vengeance and hatred. Fearing for their existence, the Ten-Flag council conspired against him and led the rest of the chapter to abandon their Chapter Master at the peak of a great battle that would have consumed them all.

After they had abandoned Achab in his mad pursuit, the remaining captains of the fleet were in dispute: Whom of them should they appoint to the position of Chapter Master? Their rivalling nature left all of them claiming the most competence for the position. Eventually, Brother-Captain Alfonsius of the 4th company, then commandeering captain of strike cruiser “The Trident”, stepped forth, with his ship’s first mate, sergeant Njord Egilson of his veteran boarding unit and the ship’s Chaplain Lyrion backing his daring claim: “A kraken may have one head, but he has many arms. Each of our ships is but an arm, yet only our unity will form a head. Thus”, he spoke, “All of us shall be as one - when each arm grasps the same prey. In that time, one shall lead us, and he shall be not more than the first among equals: Choose one who shall take the old Chapter Master’s seat and he shall be Commodore of the fleet. And he also shall be the face of the chapter, for there will be many who will seek audience, Who will wish the Kraken to surface and hail them. The commodore shall be the chapter’s voice from out of the Deep and he shall present the outsiders’ wishes to the chapter, so that these council members, who are all part of the head as well as each arm may discuss and decide. For as it has always been tradition of the worlds from which we draft our initiates: all men must agree on a matter before it is settled.”

Inspired by his words, some rose to applaud, but then Birgir Brynjarrson, then captain of the 8th and strike cruiser “Hafgufa” intervened: “How can we be sure that this one we choose does not succumb to the same warmongering like Achab Who Stood Alone? I see wisdom in your words, brother Alfonsius, but we must make sure this one does not grow too fond of his strength – And as is tradition of the fringe worlds from whence our initiates hail, only those of proven worth shall claim leadership and they must prove their worth time and time again. I say for every century that passes in the Deep, a new Commodore shall be chosen from among this council, and if one of the council finds the commodore lacking in his abilities to lead, it shall be allowed at all times that one of the Ten Flags may challenge him for his leadership. I shall not agree until this demand is met!”

Alfonsius grew wary of his Brother-Captain, fearing for a cleverly disguised scheme to take control, but agreed nevertheless because the arguments of Birgir were still sound and wise, and so did the whole of the Ten-Flag council. Right then, they chose Argonnár of the 3rd company and captain of strike cruiser “Lantern Bearer” to be their first Commodore of the new Ten-Flag council, for he was known to be the most patient among them, striking not before necessary or before the blow would be most devastating. With this as their leader, most of the Star Krakens became very secretive, leaving all public service to their serving Commodore and estranging themselves even further from the Imperium.

That is, until the recognition of the Varangian Guard.

====Zyou Gunthrop and The Iconoclast Fleet====

Zyou Eloise Adila Guntrhrop the Ninth, Duchess of Aldervenge, Marquess of Nokaige, Baron of Karkett-Upon-the-Stars. Born the second child of the Duke of Aldervenge by his third wife, she was raised and educated for lifelong military service as was custom for the second child in her family. Due to her family's high rank, third cousins to the sector governor, she was commissioned captain of the battle cruiser Lament of Bosphor, where she spent the first five decades of her career. Following the Purge of Islafax and the subsequent downfall of the Hemogene naval dynasty, she secured her position of subsector Admiral and it's flagship, the Judgement's Contempt. Following two decades of uneventful service, she thrust herself into the annals of villainy when she led her fleet in the Puryos campaign.

The Cardinal world of Puryos had come under the assault of the Ork Warboss Thrunn "Two-Hed" Deddkilly and a massive naval fleet gathered to protect them planet along with its numerous shrines and basilicas. During the battle several of the world's cathedral's and pilgrimage sites in areas protected by Gunthrop's fleet were obliterated by orbital bombardment. A full inquiry was launched, and Gunthrop threw herself upon the mercy of the inquiry taking all the blame and offering the rest of her life in crusade as atonement. Unfortunately for her, the inquiry discovered that Gunthrop belonged to a denomination of the Imperial Creed that viewed veneration of saints and relics as impiety and idolatry. This, along with evidence of Imperial weaponry being used to destroy some of the sites, led to her excommunication and death warrants placed upon her and her captains. However, her spies within the inquiry informed her of this information coming to light and, before said evidence could be revealed, Gunthrop sailed her fleet from Puryos.

Using her connections, both familial and military, she remained ahead of her pursuers for decades as her crews believed themselves to be on a pentient crusade; her fleet swelling in numbers with captured Chartist vessels and ships from small naval detachments unfortunate enough to cross her path. After hearing of the Deep and the fabulous archeotech array contained within, she turned her fleet towards the Star Krakens to wrench the Deep away from them and claim it as her personal fiefdom. Feeling secure in her numerical superiority, the Iconoclasm fleet was unprepared for the extent of the navigational and communication difficulties imposed upon them by the Deep. Her advance forces outmaneuvered by the Star Kraken fleet, the Astartes threw themselves directly at her capital ships while using weapons unknown to disable her escort ships. The battle ended when the Judgment's Lament was rammed by an enemy vessel which detonated its magazines while embedded in the damaged battleship. Though its flagship destroyed and Gunthrop's fate unknown, the Iconoclasm Fleet still remains, an opportunistic predator that hunts the distant spaceways for unwary prey.

====The ''Freyrsvero''====

An ancient Dominator-class cruiser, the ''Freyrsvero'' was found adrift in the nebula, nonfunctional and with no crew, living or dead, onboard. Years were spent repairing the ship to add to the Kraken's fleet. However, the machine spirits that inhabited the vessel had gone mad and the ship attempted to attack any vessel or facility within range regardless of commands given. The ship was mothballed and the techmarines and bonded techpriests of the Star Krakens spent three centuries attempting to appease the spirits without avail. The ship sat unpowered and unmanned until the renegade fleet of Admiral Zyou Gunthrop, declared Excommunicate Traitoris for her iconoclasm, approached the nebula intent on capturing Huginn and Muninn. Outnumbered three to one in ships, the Krakens crewed and rearmed the ''Freyrsvero'' and set it in the path of the oncoming fleet. Backed by the Star Kraken fleet and their death song on their lips, the ''Freyrsvero'' roared to life. With the Lighthouse beacon disabling approaching enemy vessels, the ''Freyrsvero'' wreaked havoc upon the escort vessels of the Iconoclast fleet before plunging at Gunthrop's flagship, ''Judgment's Contempt''. 

The flagship's guns shattered the ''Freyrsvero'' 's void shields and it's lances burned gouges deep within it's armor. As the rest of the Kraken's fleet watched helplessly, entangled in combat with the enemy forces, as the ''Freyrsvero'' was slowly blown apart; it's weapon decks ripped open by macrocannon fire as its crew burned alive in the wash of plasma flames. Deep within the dying systems the machine spirits let loose one last scream of hatred and fury and plunged the Freyrsvero into the ''Judgment's Contempt''. Her armored prow split open the armor of the ''Judgment's Contempt'' like an axe upon bare flesh. As she shuddered to a stop the remaining Nova Cannon shells in her magazines were detonated, vaporizing a full quarter of the ''Judgment's Contempt'' 's mass and knocking it out of the fight.

====Wotan Hamiltonius====

To those new to the Star Krakens Sixth Company, the aura of awe and reverence that surrounds Techmarine Wotan Hamiltonius seems to have no basis. He is small for a Marine, mild-mannered and completely blind, rejecting any occular implants. Those veterans who remember the Battle of Aegir's Shoal are quick to correct any misconceptions. The Shoal's Imperial outposts were under heavy attack from a Tyranid splinter fleet, and the Kraken fleet rushed to their aid. During the resulting battle, the ''Lighthouse'' suffered heavy damage. Pulling back from the field, it was pursued by an aggressive Tyranid suicide-ship, intent on clinging to the ship and dragging it down to oblivion. While in the process of making repairs to the limping Battle-Barge, Hamiltonius was dragged overboard by a gravity current, his helmet torn off by a near-mortal impact with the edge of the hull. Decompression set in rapidly, and his comrades thought him lost as his body drifted into the path of the damaged ''Lighthouse'''s flickering beam. As the dying Techmarine crossed the beam, however, his Machine-spirits called out to Huginn and the ancient machine responded. The energy of the beam enervated him, and casting off his helmet Hamiltonius drifted alone in space, blood pouring from the sockets where his occular implants had overloaded.

What happened next is a matter of hearsay, but the most prevalent rumor is that the Tech-Marine rode the beam directly at the heart of the Tyranid beast, tearing it to shreds with his armoured fists. Though Hamiltonius refuses to comment on the Battle of Aegir's Shoal, to this day he seems perfectly comfortable in a vacuum without a helmet, and shows greater agility and dexterity while blind than most of his fully-sighted battle-brothers do.

====A Meeting with the Ancient Mariner====

Audvald didn't know what to think, as the vessel filled the view screen. It was old and dilapidated, but the name was still as bold in it's burnished gold as it was in life. The ''Albatross'', Asylum for the Ancient Mariner.

His boots echoed upon the tarnished decks of the once proud vessel, he could only imagine that clamor of thralls and astartes going about their business. Now? Only the slight creaking of the worn grav-plates.

"Why are you here, young Kraken? Have you come to hear of glories old... or glories anew?" There was a single man sitting upon the command throne, huddled and skeletal. The Ancient Mariner. The old captain of the ''Albatross''. Sightless eyes gazed at Audvald.

"I see you, young Kraken. I see who you might be. I see you taking a foolish path, the first step visiting this tomb." He laughed, a raspy sound that echoed in the chamber.

"Oh, but the glory that would be yours! The honours that would be heaped upon you! Songs will be sung of your deeds. But..." He turned his head to the side. "That path does not see you living through the century. But you are at a fork in a road, two paths divergent. The other path, I see silver and black. I see hideous monsters who's baying cries you answer with the silent of the Deeps. Savior of the Imperium, time and time again... but with no one to know." He stroked his chin, once more looking at Audvald.

"Hnnn... what do you choose? Glory and death... or servitude and life. It does not matter. My throat is dry and I tire of your continued presence. Leave this place, you have your Rime."


====Rolling Krakens====

There was a clatter, followed almost instantly by a slam. The two more. Slam, slam, slam. Three objects impacted against the metal, and the tension in the atmosphere cracked up another notch. Creaks issued through the air as the objects were shifted and the things they contained were examined. For a few seconds, no-one spoke. Then a voice issued out.

“Three threes”

“Raise, four threes”

“Six fours”

“Hmm... seven fours”

“I call that, you fool”

With those words, the three figures that sat around the metal table raised their leather cups from the surface. Under the cups were ebony dice, five apiece, with small black spots marking the numbers, all except one. Each die had its one represented artfully by a twisting Kraken image, startlingly black on the bleached white. The players all glared at their opponents dice, and the one who had spoken most recently tossed his cup away and cursed. There were only six fours evident among the fifteen dice.

“By the depths, I thought I had you there Gêrôr, I really did”

“Hah, you’ll have to get up earlier than that to out bluff me, Harjek. Hand it over”

The marine named Harjek sighed, and tossed a die over to the gloating Gêrôr. Once again, the three marines raised the leather cups and shock them vigorously, before slamming them onto the table and examining their own dice. Gêrôr started again, casually letting his eyes skim across the six dice under his cup. Then he made his bid.

“Five fives”

“Step carefully, bold one. Six fives”

“Your one to talk. I call that”

Delmore wore a wolfish grin, while Gêrôr was yet to lose the serene, unreadable expression he employed while his dice were down. Harjek kept up his facade of brash confidence for a few second, until the dice were once again revealed. His were the only sixes, bringing their number to only four. With a grunt, he pushed a die to the third marine at the table. His battle brother’s grin widened still further at his ill grace.

“Cheer up ‘Jek, not everyone can understand the laws of probability. At least you can shoot a bolter. Granted, you never hit anything, but you always work out how to pull the trigger”

Harjek, who was an excellent marksman, wagged a finger at Delmore.

“We’ll just see about that. Again”

And so the game continued. Known as liar’s dice, the game was a popular way of killing time and gaining bragging rights amongst the fourth company. It was all about making calculated guesses on the results of the dice, based on the ones you could see and the bids your opponents had made. The astartes held almost everything in common, so the games were mostly played for honour. Sometimes small trophies or trinkets would change hands, or one astartes would wager a favour to another. 

In many space marine chapters, either free time is non-existent or leisure activities are frowned upon. In the Star Krakens, time between battles could stretch from weeks to months and sometimes even to years. Patrolling the deep was hard without sensory equipment, and it took a long time to locate an enemy. Every marine was mindful to keep their skills sharp and their gear well treated, but there is a limit to how many times you can clean a bolter before you’re just wasting polish. The same was true of training or the discussion of tactics. The longer the marines were away from a battle, the more free time they were allowed, to a maximum of about an hour a day. 

Now Gêrôr had almost all the dice under his cup, with Delmore retaining a single cube and Harjek’s cup completely empty. Gêrôr was yet to lose a game to the other two, and they were beginning to focus entirely on stealing dice from their irritatingly calm brother. It never seemed to work though. He would give nothing away, his manner and face held completely rigid, until every dice was his. Then he would let a smug, self satisfied smile slide across his face as he separated the dice back into the separate cups. 

If there was time, he generally offered another game, but today they had already played through their allowance of time. It was time for another seven hours of training, followed by the cleaning of their armour and weapons. Marines never grumbled about their training or intense schedules, for they enjoyed the simulated battle as much as the games. The only complaints you would hear from a Star Kraken would be about how long it had been since they had tasted the heady thrill of battle, except in the fourth company. Occasionally, one of the battle brothers would comment on the obviously fractured command structure, and the way most meetings of the three points ended with either Nymar or Olavi storming out. All was not well aboard The Trident, but perhaps things were about to change. Prey had just been sighted...

===Chronicles===

Collected in this section are longer tales of the Star Kraken, their champions and their exploits. To be considered a 'chronicle' the fiction must exceed 1000 words. Many of these do so in spades.

====The Depth-crossing Ritual====

''A curious young Inquisitor seeks to discover the dark secret hidden by the isolated Marine chapter, only to find himself blocked at every turn "for his own safety"''

[[StarKrakChro0|The Depth-crossing Ritual]]

====All Hands on Deck====

''Renegade Pirate Caglish and his dread crew of pirates find the vessels around the Deep to easy pickings, until the day they suddenly find themselves the prey.''

[[StarKrakChro1|All Hands on Deck]]

====Initiation Rites====

''Brother-Captain Isaias travels to a desolate world on the edge of the Deep, there to collect twelve young recruits - the price owed to the Star Kraken by a formerly enslaved people.''

[[StarKrakChro2|Initiation Rites]]

====Black Fist Boarding====

''Harjek and his hardened squadron - the Black Fist of the Fourth Company - launch a vicious assault on an Ork vessel.''

[[StarKrakChro3|Black Fist Boarding]]

====Can't Keep a Void Dog Down====

''A mysterious vessel adrift on the fringes of the Deep attracts the attention of the Eighth Company and Captain Tyr, who find things aboard are less clear cut than they first appear to be...''

[[StarKrakChro4|Can't Keep a Void Dog Down]]

====The Nautalica Action====
''The Kraken tell a legend of a dark moment in their history, before the fall of Achab, when they came to blows with certain of their kin around the wasted moon of Nautalica. Chapter scholars today debate the veracity of this tale, unsure if it is indeed history or just a cautionary tale to warn neophytes against hubris, but still it lingers on...''

[[StarKrakChro5|The Nautalica Action]]

====We Rise====
''A tale that chronicles the events that caused the naming of fourth company's first tactical squad, Squad Black Fist.''

[[StarKrakChro6|We Rise]]

====The Fear of Death====
''Moyokll and Siewurd, two titans of the Star Kraken, prove that sometimes words can be the most powerful weapons...''

[[StarKrakChro7|The Fear of Death]]

===="Negotiations"====
''Out of thrones, out of time, out of luck and in unfriendly seas? What's a Void Dog to do when his Cruiser is in need of repairs?''

[[StarKrakChro8|"Negotiations"]]

====''Sin of the Chapter''====
[[ The Albatross and Helvellyn]]