NOTE: I do NOT claim anything related to Games Workshop and all subdivisions as my own IP. Only the characters within this fictional story. It is for the pleasure of writing it ONLY and is completely non-profit.
Enjoy.
The Vermillion Crusades.
The Scourge of Athena.
Prologue.
The bell tolled its slow melody out across the white wash city below it from high upon the cliffs. The city of Trojas sprawled out like a sea of white, a view of white stone and black timbers, clay tiled roofs and spiral staircases reaching like serpents up the towers that jutted up through the sea of buildings. The architecture of the city was different to that of the giant black cathedral that squatted on the cliff tops like an ugly beast staring down at its prey. The white beauty was all rounded market houses, life like statues of white marble that caressed the water that flowed from them and into wide pools at their feet. Grand mosaics were spread across important buildings and marking out great events in Trojas history. The winding roads were full of people, a storm of noise rising from the city to mesh with the tolling drone of the bell. Those of note and importance turned their gazes to the foreboding fane that waited them up the main road of Trojas. Men and women disengaged themselves from their leisure's and duties and made for the gigantic building, falling into step with each other, two men came together and instantly began to complain.
"What is it this time? This is the third time this year they've rung that bloody bell" the first man said whilst brushing off his silken toga. The second regarded him from down his hooked nose, taller and vulture like in appearance, his olive skin gleamed with oils.
"I believe they are going to call a choosing Galis, more young men to slaughter" he pursed his lips as two younger men bustled past him, fixing their toga's with bronze brooches. "I see your sons are in a hurry to rush up there"
Galis frowned and turned a black look upon the cathedral, he smoothed back his greying hair with one hand and thrust the other into the folds of his toga. "Since they arrived the younger men of our aristocracy have taken an unhealthy obsession with the choosing. My sons are jealous of the common brutes that are chosen." He gathered the drapes and folds of his expansive clothing and threw them over his shoulder. "Well then Idrea, let us see what the Imperium wants of Athena today."
~
The huge doors of the cathedral were open when the congregation arrived, they passed under the grand archway and into the cavernous hall beyond. Giant onyx pillars rose up into the shadowed ceiling and strange statues of giants in armour lined the thick red carpet that led to the forum area. Servants ushered the nobles into the tiled area before the speaker's podium, a massive block of stone cut from the mountains around Trojas. Awaiting the group was three figures, the first was Iterator Levititus robed in flowing white and purple, the second was a man they'd seen only several times only on stately business, the Planetary Governor of Athena had made the long journey from his manor in the mountians to be here. The third man was obviously Imperial aswell, dressed in following black robes, pale skinned with a black eagle tattooed upon his forehead. Stitched on his robes was a golden eye.
"You are gathered here today to bear witness to the herald. The Imperium expects your full attention" Levititus crooned before turning away from the group and stumbling off into the depths of the cathedral. The governor stepped forward, his purple sash hung around his generous girth. He refaced the monocle over his left eye and coughed several times from under his drooping grey moustache.
"The Imperium has need of you once more Athenians, there is going to be some news, news which may shock you but as your Governor I expect full co-operation from you all." he cast a glance at the hooded man beside him, unease written across his fat face. "As of last night Athena is at war." He flinched at the outcry and raised voices that echoed like thunder in the vast hall.
"Calm, I say calm down!" he shouted over the angry buzz that washed over him, "I have received word from the Imperial fleet that a enemy formation has entered this system and its first port of call will be Athena." This caused more aggravation and a tall elderly man stepped forward and jabbed a finger up at the governor.
"You mean more off worlders like you are coming? It's bad enough being at war with the rest of Athena and now we have your enemies to worry about, you people have brought us nothing but trouble." He spat at the ground before the governors feet who shuffled backwards away from the speaker. He gestured over to the far end of the cathedral and moved closer to the hooded man as two burly men marched towards the group. Both were dressed in yellow fatigues with black carapace armour over the top, they wore black helmets with thick mirrored visors that hid their faces from view. One unclipped the maul hanging at his belt and brought it smashing into the elders knee causing him to buckle. The two men dragged the sobbing elder away from the gathering and into the shadows of the cathedral.
"I hope there will be no more incidents like that, now, to the matters at hand" the governor pulled a scroll from within his jacket and unfurled it. "No longer is recruitment for His Highness, the Emperor of Mankind's Loyal Imperial Army restricted to those of the common class. Until this declaration the ruling houses of Athena have been given lenience in accordance to Trading Guild laws, however as War has now been declared, all men of able body and age will be conscripted for a posting within the Army."
Silence met his words and left a dark note hanging in the air, the nobles had murder in their eyes. The Governor swallowed down the slab of fear in his throat, this system was tiny and far out on the eastern fringe, yet it was teeming with resources. The people that in habited these three planets held a almost an entire sectors worth of natural resource upon these planets. The governor had to establish his dominance over these people before the Mechanicum fleet arrived to begin strip mining their precious planets.
"Your compliance with the Imperial decree is admirable and to be part of the Emperors grand works everyone, even the humble, need to work together." He couldn't keep the tremble from his voice and a young noble stepped forward, the man was clean shaven and was obviously one of Trojas warriors.
"Who's authority is this declaration penned with? We have never seen your Emperor so his words carries no sway here." He jutted his chin defiantly out at Governor and several of the other nobles stepped up behind him, murmuring their agreement. The portly Governor began to back away from the slowly advancing group, fumbling with the sabre at his side.
"His word is the utmost authority Athenian." The voice came from the shadows of the cathedral, it was deep and sounded like a hammer striking stone. The nobles stopped advancing and began to stare about them, the outspoken youngster pushed through to the back of the group to face the new speaker.
"And who are you to speak with such certainty? We accepted compliance with your expeditionary fleet because it seemed the right thing to do. Then you come and bring your armies and your war machines to our world." The young nobles eyes were filled with defiant pride, a spark that could turn the peaceful surface of Athena into a raging inferno of rebellion.
"I am His word made manifest, boy." The voice snarled from the dark, then the sound of metal on stone began to echo through the gloom of the hall. The Nobles threw cautious gazes around as the sound become louder and clearer, it was footsteps. The darkness shrouded the figure until he reared up like some ancient god, his massive armoured feet stomping into the stone floor, cracking the slabs beneath. The behemoth of steel and fear broke the shadows and the light from the candles threw his yellow and black armour into stark relief.
The Nobles began to scramble backwards, falling over each other to get away from this armoured giant. The young, outspoken noble was struck silent as the warrior approached him, the man's head barely coming up to the gigantic breastplate the warrior sported. He stared at the black marble fist that was embossed upon this giants armour and then let his eyes travel up to the warriors face. A puddle of liquid pooled around the nobles feet as the giant leant over him and brought the hard red lenses of his helmet close to the boys face.
"Do you object to that?"
The Noble fell to his knees and wept openly as the fear coursed through him. The giant sneered behind his visor and stomped past him towards the Imperial Governor who paled at the sight of the Astartes. The massive warrior snatched the Imperial decree from the man's fingers and turned away, "I expect these people to be armed and fortifications set, Governor, the World Eaters cruisers just broke through our defensive line."
The Governor scurried away into the depths of the Cathedral as the Imperial Fist captain marched through the grand archway and out into the sun blazed vista around the meeting hall. He cast his gaze skyward to see the long dark bruises forming above the wisp of cloud cover, he followed the Stormbirds as they screamed through the air space above Trojas. He felt a tremor run down his spine as he saw the massive mechanicum loader bearing down its great cargo towards the city. He lifted his gauntlet and thumbed his vox bead.
"Brothers, remember that today we fight not for this planet, or those we have recently brought under the yoke of the Imperium, no, today we fight to stall these barbarians. We have to give Dorn the time he needs." He let out a long breath as he knew the outcome of the battle already. The hounds of Angron would reach the surface and scour it clean of every citizen or soldier. They would all die here.
The Fist Captain had only a handful of Astartes under his command, a few heavy tanks and a Titan war machine. Even as his keen eyesight picked out likely choke points within the city he caught sight of the mighty Warlord Purgatorum being lowered down to stand like a colossus over the gates of Trojas. Impressive as it was, his brow darkened as he knew it would never be enough to stop the tide of the Red Angel. He looked out over the rolling green hills, the majestic mountain ranges, the crystal rivers and clear oceans, the perfect sky above with its soft clouds and lamented for he knew it would all come to ruin for one mans, no, one Primarchs wounded pride. He was brought out of his reverie as a sonic boom flew from the heavens and shattered every window in Trojas, he could see the dying flare of a battleship high in the heavens and the orange streaks of fire that came like arrows to the surface. The Captain closed his eyes for one moment and offered up a silent prayer to whoever would listen, he hoped he could hold them long enough. He racked the slide of his bolter and made his way down through the winding streets of the white city. The Purgatorum opened up with its inferno cannon and the battle was begun. The fight for Athena played its part in the Heresy, albeit a small one.
1
The third world in the Athena system was the theatre of a desperate battle, it had become a war zone. Violent hurricanes whipped tons of dust and ash into the air, making visibility poor. Presae was once a beautiful planet of lush forests and verdant farm lands, but over the course of ten millennia it had become a husk of ash plains and dead woodland, its inhabitants making a meagre living hauling the ash wastes for scrap to sell to the mechanicum priests that had built a massive forge complex into the northern pole of the planet. It was this reason the Tau had invaded, bringing the might of their warrior castes to Presae's surface.
Streaks of blue snapped through the air, leaving stark after marks upon the ozone before fading. The Thunderhawk roared down towards the surface, the pilot trying his best to evade the beams of anti-air fire being hurled at his craft. The hull of the assault boat glowed as flames ravaged its paint work, its thrusters snarling at the pressure forced upon them. The pilot cursed as a red rune began to flash at him and several warning beacons wailed from the cockpit. He canted a binary code to the Adept keeping the vital systems of the Thuderhawk operational. He was going to land, but not where the Astartes wanted him to land.
He sent a command line back through his craft to alert the warriors he carried that they should prepare. The anti-air fire coupled with the ash storms had forced him to veer far off course, they were going to smash right into the enemy trench line. He dragged at the control stick, trying to stop it skipping out of his hands. His co-pilot was furiously working the vox, patching all available lines through to the Astartes Sergeant in the crew deck. He grit his teeth together as the ash clouds cleared momentarily and the huge earth works of the enemy line rose towards them. He prayed.
The smoke and the wail of emergency systems brought his mind swimming back into consciousness. His eye sight was blurred and watery and he could taste blood in his mouth. His eyes corrected themselves soon enough but the taste of blood was still fresh and he disliked it. The pilot cast his head around to check the damage and groaned. They were nose down, the thick armour-glass shield cracked and offering a view of compacted dirt. He could hear a small fire crackling away to itself behind him and a loose cable was dancing sparks everywhere, the light illuminated his co-pilot.
The poor man had been dashed off the view screen before him, the left half of his head caved in, blood oozing down the orange glare of the monitor. The pilot mashed his hand into the harness strapped across his chest and it released him. With trembling legs he hauled himself out of the command chair and back through the cockpit, he had to find the Adept. He grabbed a fallen locker and hauled it out of the way, revealing a tall figure in a red robe casually assessing the damage in the passage beyond.
"Rozak! How's my ship?" he barked at the Mechanicum Adept whilst rummaging for the fire extinguisher. The gaunt featured Adept lifted his face beneath his robe and regarded the Pilot with red glass eyes, one of his mechadendrites slithered from beneath his robe and sprayed a jet of foam over the compartment fire, dousing it in seconds. Dull thuds and the scream of energy weapon fire echoed off the hull, filling the inside of the downed gunship with noise.
"Salvageable, if the Astartes can prevent the Xeno's from destroying it. The machine spirit is displeased by the way you have treated it." His dull drone added to the growing buzz of noise. The pilot pulled a face and turned his back on the Adept, the Spirit be damned, he was more concerned whether the Thunderhawk was still flight worthy. He threw himself back into his seat and thumbed the vox rune. A hiss of static later and the line was open, albeit cut through with interference.
"Dropping bay doors, my lord, may the Emperor watch over you."
~
The giant armoured figure of Brother-Sergeant Tiberius rose to his feet, his armour plates locking into place. His breathing misted the inside of his visor as he looked around the crew bay at his Astartes scouts picking themselves up from the floor. The Thunderhawk had smashed into the ground and threw them like rag dolls against the walls. The craft was at a tilt and the assault ramp would bring them out into mid air. He had been prepared for a clean landing behind the Imperial line, but the Emperors luck had been elsewhere this day.
The red and black armoured figure strode amongst his initiates, making sure each of them were combat efficient. One student had a deep gash across his forehead, the skin peeled back to reveal bone yet he clutched his shotgun and kept an eagerness in his eyes. Tiberius, once confident on his protégé's turned to the matter of his own self. Striding back over to his harness he grabbed the large baroque bolter stashed above his seat, he slung it over one of his huge shoulder pads. He turned to the next item beside his harness and unhooked it from its magnetic mounts, he hefted the massive combat shield and made sure the adamantium straps held it fast to his right forearm. He made sure his long sword was secure in the scabbard at his side and proceeded to check the seals on his armour.
A voice cracked in his ear, alerting him that the pilot was lowering the assault ramps. His thick lips parted beneath his black and red helmet, baring teeth to the inside of his faceplate. He had been waiting for this moment, the chance to prove to the Chapter that his initiates had what it took to become fully fledged Astartes. The ramp slammed open and baleful light poured in with a cloud of ash, the scouts fixed breathing masks. Tiberius un-slung his bolter, clutching the Godwyn pattern gun by its thick handle and took a step off the ramp.
He came crashing down on top of one of the Tau pathfinders who was investigating the downed vessel. He heard the crunch it made beneath his several tonne bodyweight and smirked, pulse fire ripping holes into the earth trenches around him. He raised his massive calibre weapon and squeezed the trigger sending two of the bolt rounds screaming through the air on tails of smoke. They punched into the nearest pathfinder and detonated within him, sending ragged chunks of flesh and torso in a wide arc. He could hear the crack of shotguns behind him and the thud of bolter fire and knew his initiates were getting stuck into the fray. He checked for another target when a streak of blue flashed past his vision, his heat sensors flashing red at him. He wheeled round to face his target, stamping craters into the ground under his feet. A pathfinder tried to lunge past him to reach the open end of the trench but he smashed his combat shield into its frail body, sending it crashing to the ground.
The Tau groaned, its suits systems informing him of his broken ribs and certain system malfunctions. The blue skinned creature began to pick itself up from the ground when a shadow blotted out what light was left in the sky, the Tau raised its head.
The Space Marine stood above it, staring down with its hateful eyes, the Tau had no fear of the warrior, only disappointment that the humans could not see what the Greater Good meant. The giant above him wore over thick plates of interlocking ceramite, reminiscent to the knights of old Terran lore. It bore a huge shield and a sword as long as the Tau itself, its helmet was unlike the others he'd seen before, it was flat faced with numerous breathing holes and a thin slit for a visor. It's shoulder plates were larger and composed of several different layers, its gorget coming high up its front to offer full protection. It sacrificed speed and movement for being almost impenetrable. However, the most important thing the Tau noticed was the dark circle puffing steam above him and the massive bulk of the gun it belonged to. There was a thunderclap and the Tau's world exploded all over the Astartes feet.