Just a drabble I wanted to get out of my head (and a small piece to precede my return to writing on this site); this was sparked off by a debate I saw on the Warhammer 40,000 Facebook page, where some people were speculating that if a world identical to present-day Earth were to be found by the Imperium, would the militaries of the world be able to fend off an invasion by a full Space Marine chapter or if we would easily be overcome by the Astartes; I, however, posted a very different theory about what the Imperium would do if they encountered a world as chaotic, corrupt and insane as ours. Hopefully this little piece does justice to that theory.
I'm not writing for reviews (though they would be welcome), merely for fun and to satisfy my muse, to try something different. and help get my mindset for this back on track after a long absence (for those of you waiting for an update on my Dragon Age stories, they're in the works, I just need a few days more to get the next few chapters updated!) Hope you enjoy.
The Templars of Steel and any named characters are my own creation; all else you recognise belongs to Games Workshop.
The sky above the world split apart in the early morning hours of the northern hemisphere's spring with a flare of purplish red light; the population all saw, either with their own eyes or witnessed it through countless vid-screens worldwide an event they had never anticipated in their lives; a ship, or at least what the population assumed was a ship of space faring design, though in truth the mysterious craft looked nothing like the space-faring vessels built by the people of the world above which it hung; it more resembled a gothic cathedral wrought from steel, its flanks adorned with alcoves and statues to warriors and heroes significant to whoever had built the craft, given momentum and power to traverse the stars, and unlike the space-faring vessels of the world, this was no craft of science and exploration, no tool of knowledge for scientists and scholars; this was a vessel of war, its prow and flanks bristling with countless weapons batteries that promised such total destruction they could weak. Emblazoned at the flanks of the vessel's stern, close to the gargantuan engines propelling it forward, was a strange crest, a cross wrought in silver, akin to those borne by the crusader warriors of the world's medieval past, and at its prow, the name 'Sword of Restitution'.
More rents of dark purple light split the black void of space as five more such vessels were vomited into reality; much smaller, daggers compared to the broadsword that was the first battleship, but still formidable weapons of war, more than capable of obliterating entire kingdoms with the firepower they carried within their steel hulls. Like their immense counterpart, they bore names that suggested the warlike purpose for which they were wrought; Emperor's Gauntlet, Lance of Terra, Judecca's Sword, Blood of Dorn and Templar's Wrath.
Seven billion awed and cowed eyes stared upwards, watching and waiting with bated breath as planet-wide reports by vox and vid informed them that each of the six vessels were taking up positions above the continents of the world below. Scientists, technicians, engineers and even amateur operators reported to their fellow people that the mysterious craft were ignoring all efforts to establish contact, to begin a dialogue of civilised discourse that might allow understanding and diplomacy between the population and the newcomers to flourish. Indeed the warships were doing nothing beyond scanning the planet; engineers and technicians noted long range radar and sonar scans being conducted from what they presumed was sensory equipment on the undersides of the warships, seeking information the planet's scientific community could not begin to speculate on.
Seven hours passed; time in which even when those on the planet began to go about their business, all would periodically glance skyward, to where they could see at least one of the space-faring fortresses looming overhead, waiting to see what would come to them from such.
The fanatics of the eastern deserts hoped to face a new foe that would allow them to prove the superiority of their zealot creed.
The politicians of the island kingdom at the heart of the northern sea and the corporate conglomerations to which they were beholden far to the west alternated between fear and greedy hope that the space-borne interlopers might affect or improve the profits they sought to acquire.
The oil barons and technological moguls of the east and cartels making fortune from intoxicants in the south pondered perhaps that if the newcomers could be brought to the negotiation table, then perhaps they might be persuaded to part with technology that might allow them to increase their rates of production and raise their profits to incalculable levels.
All these speculations and more were discussed as the planet waited eagerly to know more, as all the while, the vessels in orbit remained silent.
Then finally, as the sun began to dip below the horizon of the northern hemisphere, all on the world received their answer.
The answer came in a single burst transmission broadcast across all frequencies. Whatever the newcomers had to say, they wished the entire world to hear it. Appearing on vid-screens across the planet, a figure clad in full-plate armour hued in the blued silver of freshly-forged steel, baroque and gothic in its construction, reminiscent of the suits of armour worn by the knights of the planet's so-called 'dark ages', yet also looked durable enough to withstand forms of weaponry and warfare inconceivable to the world's population. The knight made no effort to remove his helm, but even with it distorting his voice, the tone of contempt in his voice was unmistakeable.
"My name is Hadrian Lusignan, Chapter Master of the Templars of Steel of the Adeptus Astartes, commander of the Battle Barge 'Sword of Restitution', authorised and empowered by the Ordo Hereticus of the Holy Inquisition to perform the following act, and that is all you need know of me, so your vox-operators can cease their irksome efforts to ask us questions we have no desire to answer.
Since our vessels entered your world's space, we have examined your culture and what we have found appals us. You fight amongst yourselves like beasts for land and resources, squandering the bounty of your world and the freedom granted to you by the will of the Emperor to allow the few to glut themselves at the expense of the many, who sink into apathy and look only to their own profits and gratification. Your culture is little better than the xenos beasts and heathen cultists we and our brethren of the Adeptus Astartes have spent centuries beyond counting exterminating; your world is riddled with excess and decadence anathema to the Imperium. We had hoped to bring you into the Emperor's light and grant you a part in the Imperium of Man's manifest destiny, but such corruption cannot be tolerated, only expunged.
The savagery, apostasy and chaos that we have witnessed upon this corrupt and tainted world cannot be allowed to continue. You have been judged guilty of unfathomable crimes against the Imperium of Man, and now we pass sentence. In fealty to the God-Emperor, our undying lord, and by the grace of the Golden Throne, I declare Exterminatus upon this heathen world who, by the actions of its heretic population, bring shame to the name of Holy Terra. I hereby sign the death warrant of an entire world, and consign seven billion souls to oblivion. May Imperial justice account in all balance. The Emperor Protects"
Hopefulness, curiosity, greed, ambition; all of those evaporated into terror even before the warrior's pronouncement ended and the channel went dead. Desperate pleas for mercy, a stay of execution, a chance to prove themselves worthy were broadcast by scientists, scholars and politicians in an attempt to spare them and their people, while military forces across the world cut their losses, abandoned their fealty and began priming weapons in an effort to at least not go to their ends without a fight.
May efforts were tried by the planet's population to escape their decreed fate.
All would prove futile.
"My lord, scanner arrays are detecting surface-to-orbit missile batteries being primed for launch across the major landmasses. We've intercepted no transmission issuing such a command; it would seem the deviants' military have taken matters into their own hands in a bid to save their own hides"
Hadrian Lusignan smiled ruefully beneath his helmet, resting a gauntleted hand against the metal brow as he took in the bridge serf's report. "The courage of fools and the condemned is still a form of courage. Futile and foolish, but brave. Decadent savages though they may be, they've at least earned a warrior's death for that much at least, rather than the ravages of the Life-Eater". Turning to the rest of the crew on the Sword of Restitution's bridge, Lusignan enquired "How long until those batteries are ready to fire?"
"Four minutes, thirty-eight seconds, my lord" another crew serf replied.
"And how long until the Mechanicus adepts have ensured the proper rites to the machine spirits are completed and the ordinance is ready to fire?"
"Forty three seconds, my lord" a cyborg adept in the crimson robes of the Adeptus Mechanicus intoned in a grating voice with mechanised inflections to it. Chapter Master Lusignan nodded in acceptance of the information and stood to his full height, looking over his subordinates.
"Let us be done with this, then. Target those missile silos with our lance batteries- leave nothing but smouldering wreckage and corpses. Then order all vessels in the flotilla to commence Exterminatus on my mark"
The missile batteries and all inside them were first to die. Simultaneous strikes from lance batteries at the front of each vessel struck them before they were ready to counterattack, punching through steel and concrete to detonate the warheads held within, setting off gargantuan chain reactions powerful enough to melt steel, obliterate stone and incinerate all within. No living thing within the targeted facilities survived the firestorms unleashed as their own weapons were obliterated, but though horrific, their deaths were swift.
Moments after, all six vessels simultaneously fire a spread of warheads at major population centres across the continents of the world below. Meagre efforts to stop the missile attack proved futile, as most of the weapons detonated in the atmosphere too swiftly for aircraft or weapons batteries to intercept them. The detonations unleashed the lethal payload of the warheads on the world below; synthetically created viruses perfectly attuned to be inimical to life. Ninety seven percent of the planetary population, along with almost all of its flora and fauna, perished in a matter of moments as they inhaled or were exposed to the lethal pathogens and saw their skin slough off their bodies, even as muscles and tissues dissolved into slurry and bones were reduced to the consistency of jelly.
For the remaining three percent, spared either by the good fortune of having access to hermetically sealed fortifications or just the sheer dumb luck to be holed up where the viruses of the interlopers' weapons couldn't reach, in hushed whispers they discussed what to do next; wondering how long they needed to wait in hiding for the lethal pathogens to dissipate and their attackers to move on before they could emerge, not realising that their hopeful plans for survival were to be rendered moot.
Judged traitors to the Imperium of Man, there was to be no escape from the appointed sentence.
"Viral saturation at one hundred percent, lord" one of the bridge servitors intoned from its monitoring station.
"Gaseous levels?" the Chapter Master enquired in answer.
"Gaseous conditions are at optimum" came his answer. "Recommend proceeding with final Exterminatus procedures within the next two to two point five minutes"
"Very well" Lusignan nodded before addressing a navigational officer. "Upload target co-ordinates for optimal strike points to all fleet vessels. Order them to fire on my command"
As one, the six warships fire precise strikes onto the dying world below them from the prow-mounted lance batteries, igniting a planet-wide firestorm fuelled by the gargantuan volumes of methane and other combustible gases released into the atmosphere by the simultaneous decomposition of over seven billion people and countless other organisms beside.
The howling maelstrom of fire unleashed scoured the planet with phenomenal speed, searing the landscapes of entire continents to bare rock, levelling cities as stone and metal foundations melted in the heat of fiery cyclones fuelled by the decaying remains of their populations left to rot where the virus bombs had laid them low. Gas lines and oil pipelines ignited in the heat, sending plumes of fire into the madness, entire sprawls of buildings that rose thousands of stories high or had survived centuries or even millennia of human conflict and change toppled into cluster of molten stone, palaces of the wealthy, industrial complexes and military fortresses scoured into tumbled ruins.
Anyone still miraculously alive on the planet now perished; those foolish enough to try and venture out were incinerated in the blink of an eye, while those hidden below ground in what they believed to be the safety of bunker complexes and silos perished as fire, smoke and toxic gases flooded into their refuges through the ventilation pipes to the surface and poisoned and burned those within, or the debris of the destruction caused by the firestorms crushed or blocked those same pipes and condemned the people inside to the slow death sentence of asphyxia when what little oxygen was left inside finally expired.
The world below had gasped the last thrashing of its death throes by the time the recoil of the blasts had faded on the warships of the flotilla.
"Exterminatus complete, my lord" one of the gun-servitors intoned from its position. Lusignan nodded in acceptance of the report and turned to the battle barge's crew.
"Order the vessels to begin breaking formation and heading towards suitable points for warp jump. We've wasted enough time purging these heretics; the Sisters of the Argent Shroud still require our assistance before WAAAGH! Skullkrakka overruns another of their shrine worlds"
The Templars of Steel flotilla began moving off in pursuit of their next battle, leaving behind them the scoured and still-burning remains of a world that had been a grievous stain upon the history and honour of the human species, but would not be allowed to pollute and corrupt the Imperium of Man.