AN: Time for another story. I will probably experiment with 1st person narration for a while, as it is rather new for me. Of course, I hope you enjoy it.
It was a dark age, torn apart by war. The Imperium was beset by foes on all sides, billions dying every day to try and keep the Xeno, the Heretic, and the Daemon at bay. So bad was the general situation that even the highest lords of mankind had taken notice, and after many months of deadly politics, parts of the senate had truly realized the danger, and had decided to take the most drastic action they could.
"And for all these reasons of efficiency effectiveness and coordination, it is, for the good of the Holy Imperium, necessary to start to reunite the Guard and Navy into one entity. All imperial forces who are united in such a way, be they the troops of the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Adeptus Arbites, the Adeptus Astartes or even the armies of Rogue Trades have proven superior to most of both the Guard and the Navy in the aspects already mentioned. The Imperial Army needs to rise to its old power if we want to survive these dark times!"
It was the last speech in the current debate and now the High Lords of Terra did cast their votes. The representative of the Holy Inquisition and the Grand Provost of the Adeptus Arbites voted against it, as did the Ecclesiarch. The Grandmaster of the Officio Assassinorum remained neutral, while the representatives of the Guard, the Navy, the Adeptus Administratum and the Charist Captains voted for it. The surprise came when the Manufaktor Principalis supported the proposal. And it seemed that the Paternoval Envoy and the master of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica had also been promised something worth their support by the Administratum.
The result was clear and irrefutable, now the details of this fundamental decision were to planned out. The later orders given to the segmentum commands would state that the change was to be incorporated slowly to avoid strife between officers trying to get the same position. However, new units where to be build according to the old rules of the Imperial Army. As with nearly all decisions made by the High Lords, there would be quite many deaths and ruined lives as a result, but also much success to be had for those with the luck, the skill, or both at their back. Of course, the factions opposed to this new law would not just allow this to pass, and quite a few high heads rolled in the aftermath, but the new law itself stood firm.
Hive Gewq, Kayco Primaris
Great wealth and power bring a lot of good things as anyone can imagine, and they tend to make life both easy and pleasant. However, there are always expectation, even from people who have absolutely no idea who you are and don't care for the most part. Also, these individuals had the uncomfortable habit of being in even more powerful positions, so politely disappointing them was not an option who would want to take. Duty was calling, as bad as that was.
Once again, you show what a wimp you are. It's not like you are the one to be send to war.
It was true, I was not the one who had to answer the call. But the person who had to was very close to me, and so I was already sick with worry, even though she had not left the planet yet. It would of course get far worse once the operation was to begin.
Calm down, you idiot. It's not like high command is some kind of hellhole. You should worry if they were to send her to the trenches.
I could tell myself that as often as I wanted, and it didn't help much. To at all, if I was to be honest. Everything could have gone so well if things had not turned out like this.
If father had not been killed a few months ago.
His job had been a dangerous one to be sure, a High Admiral had many enemies. And through some means, maybe treachery, maybe cursed warpcraft or maybe just dumb luck, the chaos ship had jumped out of the warp while he was on a light cruiser instead of a battleship, and the smaller ship had not been able to withstand the heretic's barrage. So Augustus Ravencrown had fallen, and his family mourned his passing for a time before realizing that he would not want us to mourn, or to do anything else to distract us from our normal life. He had of course made preparations for his death and while they had only the best intentions, they backfired in a spectacular way. Father had arranged for his children to be considered for some of the highest ranks in the sector military, probably sure that he would live long enough for us to be ready. Now we weren't ready, and for some reason, not unlikely the actions of his political enemies, the Administratum had decided to grant father's wish in the worst way door opened, and the one of us who got called for duty entered.
My sister, Victoria Ravencrown, three years older than I, had just been appointed has the supreme commander for the planned Veilfall Crusade. She looked as beautiful as always, lean yet strong with a pretty face and amber eyes, her dark hair tied up in long ponytail. But her worry, or rather suppressed panic was quite obvious for everyone who knew her.
I walked up to her to give her the hug she so obviously needed, and as I did, I saw the changes in her attire. Normal, she wore the same kind of grey and silver uniform of the military academy, but now she had received her new rank insignia and an opulent fur cloak. In addition, she was now carrying a power sword on her left side. It was obviously not her choice to wear those things, the cloak was far to warm for anything outside of the coldest months in winter, and while Victoria had not been bad a fencing, she preferred not to walk around with a blade. It had to be for the speech she was to give for the troops in a few hours.
Victoria had to leave for her speech, I was of course the one with tears in the eyes. It didn't matter how I tried to keep my fear back, I was unable to do so. Not only would the supreme command over a crusade attract assassins like a untrained psyker attracted doom, but failing in her duty would be just as fatal. We had both made the training to Force Commander and Vicky had finished it a about three weeks ago, so she was, at least on paper, qualified to command a cruiser and a regiment worth of ground forces, perhaps with a squadron of escorts or another one or two regiments depending on type and size, but a crusade was obviously on an entirely different scale.
I let go of her and looked into her eyes again. She tried to look confident as it was expected from someone of her new rank, and while she succeed in that, she was able to look strict and stable. Not quite the right thing, but a decent first step.
"I have to go now", she said, her voice sounding cold and devoid of emotion.
"I will follow you as soon as I can." She smiled at that, but there was no joy in the expression.
It was not possible for me to accompany her to her speech as only members of the crusade's high command and their bodyguards were allowed in. So I just brought her to the landing pad where her guncutter and several escort fighters were waiting.
"Stay safe, Damien, and may the Emperor protect you", were her last words as she entered the plane and looked back. The engines roared and made it impossible to answer, so I just wiped away a tear as the guncutter rose. I hoped do see her again, and I feared that this might never happen.
The flight to the flagship in the planet's low orbit took nine point four minutes, and Victoria Ravencrown spend the entire time staring out of the window. She watched the spires of the gamma hive shrink, followed the paths of other flyers as she tried to keep her composure intact. The sky was soon replaced by the ring of orbital defense platforms and the fleet assembled there. All types of ships were present, from the relatively small destroyers to the massive shapes of battleships, all of them proudly showing the gothic artstyle of the Imperium, and Victoria felt a sense of pride rise in the middle of her fears.
Her new security detail, all members of some elite grenadier regiment she had never heard of, maintained a firm grip on their weapons, apparently some pattern of hot-shot lasgun she had also never heard of before. They were quite frightening in their jet black heavy carapace armor and in the way they moved, all of them showing the well trained elegance of veterans. They had not spoken a word since she entered the plane, only saluting before taking positions around her. Still, their purpose was apparently to keep her save, so they were not quite as unwelcome as they might have been.
If I only knew what to tell them, she thought as the plane approached its destination.
The hangar bay of the flagship, the battleship Appropriate Vengeance, was a massive, well-lit cavern usually holding dozens of fighters. And this was only one of several this gargantuan vessel carried. Now there were no attack craft stored here, instead, hundreds, maybe thousands of soldiers stood at attention and saluted as she stepped on the ramp of the guncutter. Being greeted like this was both deeply satisfying and terrifying at the same time, and Victoria walked quickly through the path in the formation, hoping to get out of here before she lost her mind. Of course, there was a path open for her in the formation, and it took all her willpower not to start running. Many of those who watched the scene only saw an ambitious officer rushing to get to business, someone every commenter would also claim, even if they saw the truth. This could be made into a propaganda victory, and her team for the matter which Victoria Ravencrown didn't even know to exist was already at work.
A vehicle of the ship's internal transport system awaited them, little more than a metal box with doors, about the size of a tank mounted on a monorail. From the inside, it was impossible to tell how fast it moved, but it had to be very fast since it took only a handful if minutes before the vehicle began to move upwards instead of forwards, and another minute later, the doors opened to reveal the the much nicer atmosphere of the upper decks.A ship officer saluted before turning around to lead the group onwards. This part of the ship was currently in full use and so there was much less pomp and celebration to be found here. Still, everyone seeing the new marshal took the time for a swift salute, if only to avoid trouble should the marshal or a commissar take offense to not doing so. They could to see how insecure their new superior was underneath the neutral expression Victoria desperately tried to keep, and even if some of them did, they knew talking about this was a sure way to be placed on the wrong side of a firing squad.
The command bridge of the Appropriate Vengeance was a massive room, styled like the interior of a castle fitted with dozens of high end cogitators and other advanced technology. Massive Vidscreens along the walls showed a the void outside, making it look as if there were huge windows all around instead of layers of armor plating many meters thick. Most of the interior was plated in chrome, to a point were looking at the wrong angle made making out details quite difficult.
There were easily a hundred people in this room, guards, bridge crew and officers included. And all of them were currently looking at Victoria Ravencrown with great expectations.
Just postpone the nervous breakdown, she told herself, it's alright if you have one, just not right now.
No amount of taking deep breaths would really help here, and taking them right now would make her discomfort obvious for everyone who wasn't blind or a complete idiot.
Still, through what could only be the direct intervention of the God-Emperor, Victoria appeared to be determined if one looked at her from afar, and few people dared to stare at their superior for long, fearing the ire of anyone of higher rank.
Lord Commissar Milton had known how the high command for this crusade would look like, but seeing it up close was much, much worse. Whoever had chosen its members had either not had the interest of the Imperium in mind, or was a complete fool. Only two individuals in this room where even worthy of this position, and two others were quite obviously a terrible choice.
To his left stood a spot of hope in the shape of Inquisitor Lilianne Charnley, her presence reinforced by her sororita pattern power armor. Her face held as many scars as his own, and the fire in her eyes was radiant in its righteous fury, and Milton was glad that it had found the right target. He held a certain admiration for the puritan Inquisitor, her being someone he could trust to preserve the Emperor's light no matter the cost and circumstance.
Inquisitor Avarius Warwick was the one person in this room both Milton and Charnley just wanted to shoot, for he was what the Holy Ordos called a radical, someone dangerously close to crossing the border into outright heresy. But for some reason, the Lord Inquisitor still trusted Warwick, and so he remained here. He was quite handsome physically and could be charming if he wanted to, but his philosophy and roguish style were disgusting all wise citizens of the Imperium. In his coat and hat, he might as well have been nothing more than successful recidivist, a look fuelled the fire of Milton's distrust even further.
Lord Commander Konrad Arras was an officer with a rather turbulent career, one that lead him from leading a mechanized regiment from his homeworld of Armageddon to commanding an army group of the Death Korps of Krieg before ascending to high command. He was still clad in the uniform of a Death Korps general and was even wearing his respirator. His career had included an unusually high number of retreats, and while he had never been condemned for them, a commissar would always watch such a man with suspicion.
And then there was the person supposed to be in overall command, Marshal Victoria Ravencrown. Milton had seen many officers elevated in positions far above their abilities due to family connections, and she looked like a perfect example of this disgusting practice. She was simply far to young to be placed in such a position, only twenty three standard years to be exact, although she managed to look more competent than a few others he had seen. But how had she gotten this position in the first place? Granting someone barely adult this kind of authority was downright madness, but for now, there was nothing he could do about it. And if Lord Commissar Baltazar Milton hated one thing except for heresy and xenos, it was being unable to properly fulfill his duty.
I was back some, still in shock and my heart trembling with fear. But I was no longer alone, the few friends Victoria and I had had joined me, and so we shared our nervousness as we stared at the pict-screen in the living room. This should be a time of pride and triumph, yet there was none of that, just fear and worry. We all knew that the position of Marshal was way above our collective paygrade, at least without a century's worth of additional experience.
Richard was the first one to open a bottle, and I could hardly blame him for it. He had fallen in love with Vicky some time ago, although he had never found the courage to tell this to anyone but. He was a good guy, and I would have wanted them to be happy together. I preferred to stay sober, or at least I was not that panicked just now, but his desire to force the fear down was something I could understand all too well. Miranda and Egon also took a few drinks, while Phillipa and I just kept staring the screen. The couch we sat was usually very comfortable, but now it felt as if was made from iron, and so he began to pace up and down in the room, fruitlessly trying to keep my head clear, until I realized that I was just making everyone even more miserable and sat down again.
Her hands were shaking as she stepped towards the speaker's desk, and she used the chance to hold onto it. The display flared into life, showing a speech already written by some of the best the Ordo Prefectus had in their motivation department. The new security detail took positions all around her, and the rest of the staff watched in silence as the camera team made the last adjustments. An icy calm fell onto Victoria as the adrenalin kicked in again, and she knew that if she failed this, it would probably mean death by execution, as the Ordo Prefectus was already irritated by her getting this post and would take an excuse if they got one.
Seeing how the only escape route was forward, she pulled herself up and began to speak.
The knowledge of billions of eyes all over the planet below and the ships all around watching was crushing, but only for a moment. Then, Victoria felt something new rise to power within her mind: The faith to the God-Emperor. This could be her chance to bring His Divine Light into the darkness beyond the current borders of the Imperium. Her eyes opened again, without her even realizing they had been closed, and they were now filled with righteous resolve as was her mind, all fear banished for now, although probably not for long. The golden lights around her were know soothing rather than blinding, and she was able to ignore the way the man in the commissar uniform glared at her.
"Soldiers and citizens of the Imperium! For too long have the veils of the cursed warp kept His Light out of the dark corners of the galaxy, provided shelder for the abdominations that are the xenos and the heretics. But their festering presence will not be allowed to remain any longer! This crusade will burn away their disgusting taint and extent the glory of the Imperium even further! To do so, the imperial forces under my command will be formed into Veilfall Crusade, to make sure the regions previously hidden behind the phenomenon known as the "veil in the warp" will not stay without His Light any longer!" Victoria knew many citizens without high education and decent security clearance had never previously heard of the warp veil, but it didn't matter to her and it wouldn't matter to most of the subjects of the Emperor either.
"With all your support, this endeavor is certain to bring swift sucess. Still, I urge you to give what you can so the victory can be even swifter and even more glorius. May the Emperor's light shine on all of us!" She formed the sign of the aquila as she stepped back, and the camera shut down.
As the lights were dimmed back to normal levels, she felt how her hands began to shake again, the sudden flash of determination was gone just like it had appeared in the first place. She just wanted to leave, but she didn't even know where to head. Returning home was obviously no option, and she had no idea where her quarters on the ship were located. If this was a cruiser, Victoria would have been able to find the captain's suite on her own, but a battleship like this one was a completely different beast. Even though doing so was deeply embarrassing, she had to ask one of her bodyguards. There was no expression to be seen behind the armored rebreather, but the soldier merely handed her a data slate with map of the ship.
Seeing my sister standing behind the speaker's desk was painful, but it also filled me with a strange sense of pride. She looked confident in spite of her earlier despair, and while she held herself like that, the new fur cape and the new insignia actually suited her. If it were not for her age and my knowledge of her feelings, she could have walked straight out of one of the many old portraits in the academy.
The speech was something to be expected and full of what everyone with decent education knew to be blatant propaganda, even though few people were dumb enough to show this knowledge. It would soon show if had hit the right spot in the population, but the writers were usually quite good at their task, while the masses in the lower areas of the hives were often desperate for any sort of cause to escape the misery of their lives. Cynical, I knew, but that didn't make it a false analysis. At least this was better then joining gangs or worshipping the ruinous powers. Still, if this didn't work as intended it might sign her death warrant, so I could nothing but shake while watching it until I managed to reach out for one of the open bottles of amasec on the was good stuff, the staff always made sure the money they were given was spend on quality things. Still, I was not exactly used to hard drinks. I got a few worried looks from my friends as I put the bottle down, as they knew me not to drink at all under normal circumstances.
The gallow's humour followed immidiately after that train of thought. Under normal circumstances. Right. I took another sip from the bottle. It was already enough to make sure I got a solid hangover in the morning, but this was not a moment in which I cared much for such things. And I was the one living here, with no need to drive anywhere later. In that regard, there were enough guestrooms for all of my friends, and the first few days after the beginning of a crusade would be holidays, at least for the upper class to which we all luckily belonged.
Something small and warm suddenly jumped onto my lap, and it took a few moments for my strained brain to recognize my own cat, Simon. He was a good cat, always looking after me and my sister when we were sad or distressed, and he didn't fail me this time either. Simon began to purr, and I sank my hands into his fur as Victoria began her speech, a speech that would transmitted through the entire damn sector.
She spoke quite well, hitting the right tone to inspire many of the more downtrodden citizens who had worked so hard for this crusade to be made possible. Vicky had always had a way with words, but the pressure she currently suffered seemed to bring her to new heights of her ability. It was nearly scary in its intensity, as neither of us had ever been particularly zealous, but it meant she had better chances of surviving her new post and my fear was a cheap price for that.
With my sister's speech out of the way, the picture changed to a glorious shot of the fleet in the low orbit, then to one of several military parades that very hive on the planet held this day. That was all I would be able to see from my sister for now, and the cold fear clawed at my heart again. The crusade fleet would soon make its way through the fallen veil to plunge into the darkness on the other side, and as an educated man, I was willing to bet that there were plenty of horrific dangers over there. Even if the veil had made a proper incursion impossible previously, but a crusade would only be assembled if there was something worthwhile in the target area, and anything worthwhile in this bloody galaxy not already in imperial hands would be guarded by something terrible.
So I sat there on a couch, the family cat on my lap and surrounded by good friends, an almost wonderful scene if it were not for my sister being sent of to fight a war without being prepared, and with no way to weasel her way out of it, and no chance for me or any of our friends to stand at her side. Even all the wealth of House Ravencrown was useless here, and the only way out for my sister would be victory or death. I could not let the latter happen, there had to be something I could do. If only I had any idea what it might be.
Of course, any large development in the Imperium meant losses for far more than just one family, and some where more obvious than others. While the newly appointed marshal was officially on the way to a glorious future, and her friends and brother knowing about there inability to influence things for now, many others had family or friends in equally bad or worse trouble. In spite of all the propaganda work done by the Ecclesiarchy, the Administratum and the individual planetary rulers, gathering the manpower for the crusade had not been an easy task, and where motivation failed, less friendly methods had been employed. Most planets had little need for prison inmates and most or their poorest population, so those were targeted for forced conscription into His Glorious Army, and with any imperial activity on a large scale, many innocents were caught in the crossfire, sometimes literally. Their rules cared little for such collateral damage, and if someone was wrongly designated for the draft, so be it. More meat for the grinder.
For the most obvious reasons, those close to the newly drafted soldiers did not share the opinion of the Administratum officials, and the first few riots had already been brutally crushed as the Arbites used their regular approach of overwhelming firepower and no regard for lost lives.
Julius Pete was one of the many who had lost two brothers to the enforcers, who had essentially caught them at random and had promptly sent them onto a troop transport to be shipped to some horrible place. Communications between the soldiers who conscripted at gunpoint and their relatives were pretty much nonexistent, and Julius had now finally enough of the brutal rule of the Imperium. He and his brothers had worked fourteen hours a day in the manufactorum at a shitty wage, and as a thanks for their work Ben and Cel had been abducted for no reason. This was more than the already frustrated Julius Peet could handle, and he was not alone his rage. One only had to gently push a few buttons to turn these people into the sparks to ignite the powder keg that was the lower part of nearly every imperial hive city...