Hans Talandor a man of the Adeptus Astartes kept a constant watch over the screens that covered the walls inside his Auspex station in one of the Imperium's PDF bases. The information that was constantly being fed in by the sensor arrays that were spread out through the solar system, most of which were literally in almost all senses useless to the Imperium. A small bleating sound was emanating off of one of the screens, as the screen began to change colors in time with the bleating, the colors and sounds symbolized that a ship was coming out of the warp near the first layer of the planetary rotator. As the vessel slipped out of the Warp, the ship was identified as one of the Imperiums, but it didn't match any of the identification sequences of any Imperium class ships. Dumbfounded he turned around and went to the com system implanted in the wall, pressing the button listing for the static to cease.
"Adept Talandor to Senior Tech-Priest Crinitine"
"Yes?"
"Sir, a vessel of unknown origin has just left the warp and their trajectory in on a direct course for the planet."
"I shall be there in a moment, keep an eye on the ship"
Thanks to the sensor array, a photo of the ship was delivered to the defense leaders across the planet just in case of the vessel being hostile and a skirmish breaking out. But the ship was different because in the current era most ships looked like floating Cathedrals, this ship looked like it was made for war. After taking an overlook of the ship Talandor found a massive symbol on the side, Benthos, a mark could be seen on the ships prow. It looked like a large metal face, shaped like the head of death. "Iron Within, Iron Without" was clearly visible underneath of it. Talandor sat motionless staring at the strange insignia, not noticing when the Tech-Priest Crinitine entered the room.
"Adpetus Talandor, is this the vessel that you spoke of a few moments ago"
"Yes, sir." The Tech-Priest studied the ancient vessel, muttering a few things under his breath so that Talandor could not hear him.
"Well it appears to be from sometime around the time of the Great Crusade, there is a small chance that I could be wrong, .014% to be specific, Have you tried to hail them over the Vox system.
"Negative, sir they are just coming in the range of Vox communication"
"Attempt to make contact with them." Talandor nodded his head and turned back the wall of computers typing in a multitude of commands that begun to release the vox wavelengths.
"Unknown ship, this is the Vanaheim PDF base, Unknown ship, we require you're identification codes before we can allow you to come any closer to the space station" The Vox hissed for a few moments before a few could be heard on the other side.
"Vanaheim PDF, this is the ship Benthos of the Iron Warriors', we have men and women who are wounded and need medical attention asap. Send word to High Terra! War master Horus has betrayed the Imperium!" Both Adpetus looked at each other in confusion; Horus had been killed in his Flag-ship, at the hands of the Emporer no less, after his failed invasion of High Terra.
"Benthos, are you referring to the event known as the Horus Heresy? Are you not aware that it occurred over ten thousand years ago?" The intake of air that came from the other side was almost overwhelming.
"What?! Ten thousand years? But what of the Emperor? The other Primarchs?'
"Perhaps we should meet in person? I am quite certain that it would be easier to explain." Both men over their shoulder as the door slid open. It was a beautiful, voluptuous women, the only mar to her beauty was a scar that ran from her silvered left eye all the way down to her throat. She wore a Black robe over her blood colored leather combat suit, and around her neck she wore a golden necklace that had a large, stylized "I" pendant.
"Yes, yes. Of course."
"Very well, proceed to port opening three, Vanheim out." As the screens began to lose their hum, as they powered down, both Adeptus looked at the Inquisitor, their eye fixed curiously.
"Return to your work." She walked out of the station, down the hallway towards the nearest exit. A Rhino sat outside idling, painted black and white. Five Space Marines stood next to it. All of them were fully armored except one who held his helmet to his side.
"Inquisitor Nixos, it is good to see you again. They both shook hands as they climbed into the Rhino, being followed by the marines. As the Blast shudder closed, the air of the room suddenly changed. "So Nixos, is it true?" The inquisitor looked up at the Black Templar Castellan.
"Yes, Castellan. A ship from the Great Area belonging to the Iron warriors has just left the Warp. They were given permission to dock in port three, we are on our way there now, so I want everybody to ready for what we are about to see.
Aboard the Benthos all was quiet, despite the news. A massive warrior in Mk III warplate sat in the large commander's chair, his face covered by an iron mask, one that was completely identical to the mask connected to his shoulder plating. His name was Barabas Dantioch, Warsmith and former commander of the 51st expeditionary
Fleet. He commanded what was left of the Loyalist faction of the Iron Warriors, little more than twenty five in all. His remaining sergeants, Bendix and Mereel, stood at the bottom of the staircase awaiting orders.
Barabas looked over his crumbling war room seeing the discontent on the faces of the men that were still able to work the ancient machines. Bendix and Mereel were surprised when their commander stood up. "Sir" Barabas' hand silenced him and brought everyones attention to him. "My brothers and sisters, we have come back into contact with our Imperial siblings, they say that many things have changed since we escaped from our tainted battle brothers. We will deal with them cautiously, but know this, The imperium is no longer the Emperors. Everyone nodded in agreement.
Bendix stepped forward, "Yes, Warsmith, If I may suggest." Barabas nodded him on "Thank you, we should send Venerable Brother Firaxa and a terminator squad with you when you meet with them." Mereel nodded.
"Agreed. We need you well protected, War-smith."
Barabas looked displeased "Do you think that I can no longer defend myself, brothers? Have I become too weak and feeble to do so? You are my brothers, but you should do well not to forget your place. I am the War-smith, my place is at the frontline of the battle and siege alike." He tapped a few buttons on his command throne.
"War-smith Barabas to Tech-Adept Holdan, alert Lord Firaxa, I want the Terminator suits, I will be coming down." Barabas stood, towering above the human crew that still lived. Most of the other men had been lost to the long journey, a few new faces had appeared, thanks to the crew being made up of men and women. His armor was Silvery grey, black and yellow warning chevrons covering his left shin and right shoulder plate. A large Bolt pistol was holstered at his waist, it was a gift from one of the greatest Bolt makers in the entire Imperial army. Most of the other Marines were jealous of the Fist, but Dantioch rather enjoyed the rivalry. He always thought that without competition you could never truly improve or be able to work harder.
As the massive Hold doors closed Barabas and his sergeants began walking down the halls of the ancient ship, beside him stood Mereel and Bendix each clad in the Mk III plate that was similar and slightly different. Attached to both of their backs were the massive Crusade era bolters, old yet powerful weapons.
The time soon came when all three of them reached the entrance to the Mechanicus workshop. They waited for the massive bulkheads to open and grant them access, as soon as the doors opened the trio stepped into a forest of broken Warplates and hundreds of shattered weapons. Dantioch saw the Tech-Adepts as they finished the reconstruction of one of the few terminator suits that they had left.
"Hail, honored Tech-Adept." The tall man turned to face his commander, he had a grin on his face. He wore the deep robes of red that not only himself but the rest of his order did, but unlike the rest of his order, Holdan was no stranger to dangers of war. After the Battlemaster Horus betrayed the Emperor, the few Iron Warriors that hadn't been turned banded together to take control of one of the Battleships. It was in the push into the War-room that he was hit by a piece of metal that had blasted off of the wall, losing the left side of his organic face. In its place was a large red bionic eye.
"Hail, Warsmith. This terminator suit has gone through all the necessary repairs it will be put through the rituals before we land, and Tech-Sergeant Goran is completing the awakening sequences for Lord Firaxa, he should be ready in a few moments." Dantioch looked over the suit recognizing it as the Ccataphractii Pattern that he wore in battle when they were trying to secure the ship. In its left hand it held a power axe, the perfect weapon for cutting through foes armored and unarmored alike. Connected to its right hand was a storm bolter, one of the most deadly of its make, able to mow down hundreds before having to be reloaded. He kept looking the suit over as the rest of the group moved farther into the mechanicus. Out of nowhere, a loud grinding noise brought everyone's attention, it was the sound of one of the Dreadnoughts being tested out. Covered in warning chevrons and weapons, marched through the room, heading towards the firing range to have its' firing mechanisms tested before they arrived at the station.
"Greetings, Venerable Firaxa." The massive mechanical beast stopped in its tracks, its torso spun in a three-hundred and sixty degree circle, when it finally stopped it fixed its "eyes" on the Warsmith.
"Well, if it isn't the Warsmith. So, have we finally made it back to High Terran? Will we finally be able to bring the long awaited fight to the Emperor's enemies?" shaking his head Dantioch walked up to the Venerable.
"Not yet, my brother, there is some news that you and the others must hear, but the time to explain will have to wait. We need you and the other Venerables to prepare yourselves to go planetside." He turned to the Tech-Sergeant that was oiling Firaxes' gears. "Brother Goran, ready the Stormbirds for flight. I must prepare myself as well."
Dantioch walked back to the suit he had been inspecting earlier, it was now standing on a small raised dais as a small group of servitors walked out of one of the alcoves hidden by the wall. They latched onto his warplate removing each piece until he was left in his Iron mask and his black undersuit. "Tech-adept, have my armor returned to my chambers." The Adept of Mars nodded as the Servitors began to assemble the pieces of the freshly completed Terminator plate. Starting with his legs, each Servitor began to chant the hymn of the Mechanicus, so as to appease the machine spirit of his armor. Soon his legs were fully encased, they then went to the torso. It took three hours for the entire ceremony to be completed, and for the armor to completely activate and the old latches deactivate. A servitor handed him the power axe, which he easily hefted onto his back which became locked into place by the magnetic locks that clicked together. As the last of the latches came out of place one of the adeptus walked before Barabas.
"Warsmith, the Stormbirds are prepped and ready to go for the flight. We shall leave upon you order."
"Very good, we will be there momentarily" looking at Firaxes Barabas saw that the other Venerables had awakened, knodding to each other they made their way out of the Mechanicus.
As they walked down the hall, many marines had jumped out of the way only to join into the procession, many eager to see the Warsmith go forth once more. It had been decided that an honor guard shall accompany the Warsmith, the venerable would be sent along with four assault marines, these two groups would be responsible for his protection. Each man would be armed with the heavy duty chains-axes and Bolt Pistols. The group stopped and turned to twenty plus warriors that had gathered behind them.
He saw that many of their faces had looks of worry upon them. Removing his mask he spoke, "Today, my brothers, We go forth not for the purposes of war, but in friendship. I go forth to find out what happened to our beloved Emporer and the Arch-Traitor Battle-master Horus." Raising his Fist "Iron Within", the twenty plus warriors roared back.
"Iron Without!" Dantioch turned and strode into the lead Stormbird, followed by the assault marines. The marines all waited until Dantioch had entered the Stormbird before walking in themselves. "Dantioch, this is Firaxa, my brothers have entered the stormbirds and we are currently awaiting your order to leave" "All birds we will now begin our descent to the planet." The stormbird shifted from one side to the other as it began to lift off of the deck, everyone who had not accompanied the commander raised their fists to their hearts, "Iron Without."
Inquisitor Nixos stood at the vox controls of her Thunderhawk dropship, watching as the servitor connected to the controls slowly flipping through the stations. The squad of her Black Templars stood outside the ship, while most of them stood watch a few were praying. Nixos looked back on her life and remembered when she was included in the reclamation of the forge world Graia, that had been five years ago. Only being an interrogator back then she was under the command of her future teacher Inquisitor Thrax, he gave her command of one of the white Templar squads which she used to take regain control of several outposts.
"This is Vanaheim, repeat Vanaheim. Come in Bethos, come in."
"Copy Vanaheim, this is lead Stormbird Iron Soul with Atoches fists in tow, we are beginning our approach. Where do you want us, over?"
"Copy Iron Soul
"Copy Vanaheim, this is the Stormbird Iron Soul, on approach vector. Where do you want us, over?"
"Copy Iron Soul. We want you to set down about two kilometers west of Facility Njord."
"Copy, moving to approach." Nixos walked out of the dropship, standing by the Black Templars as they watched a small speck of light approach. The Black Templars tighten their grips on their bolters as the form of a Stormbird came into view. It was a silver-gray, black and yellow warning chevrons appeared on many of the panels. An iron death's head mask was imprinted on the prow, above the words Iron Soul. It slowly dropped in for a landing, it's skids sinking into the soft earth. The back hatch groaned open, and the Inquisitor and Templars alike heard the clanking and grinding of Firaxa's ancient body. They watched as he stood to attention, and a group of silver clad Assault Marines filed out. They heard another heavy clanking as a massive figure walked down the ramp.
He was clad in Terminator plate, an ancient Crusade era pattern. A power axe was locked onto his back, and a storm bolter was built into his right gauntlet. Instead of a helm he wore an iron mask on his head identical to the one on his shoulder pad. He raised his hand in greeting.
"Hail. I am Warsmith Barabas Dantioch, former commander of the 51st Expeditionary Fleet." The Inquisitor cautiously raised her hand as well.
"I am Inquisitor Mjolka Nixos of the Ordo Malleus." The Warsmith cocked his head.
"What is an inquisitor?"
"We are an order of warriors dedicated to rooting out the influence of unholy xenos and Chaos." The Warsmith nodded. He then looked at the assembled Black Templars.
"Who, might I ask, are these warriors? They appear Astartes, but I do not recognize the heraldry." The Castellan stepped forward, removing his helmet as he did.
"I am Castellan Francisco Fleischer of the Black Templars, most noble sons of Rogal Dorn." The Warsmith nodded.
"Well met, Sons of Dorn. I remember many of your elders from my days. All were noble warriors." The Castellan spit at his feet.
"Such can not be said for yours." Instead of reacting like they though he would, the Warsmith began laughing.
"I like this one, Inquisitor. He's got spirirt. But on to why we're here. What happened to the Emperor and the Arch-Traitor?" The Inquisitor began the tale, able to tell the entire thing due to being an Inquisitor. The Warsmith frequently asked questions during the tale, which the Inquisitor answered.