Umbram Ignis: Chapter1

The council chamber was spacious and well-lit with tall stained glass windows shining historical victories onto beautiful white marble walls, the space was arranged into a 'T' shape, with a long nave stretching away so far it made echoes ring. At the end graceful columns rose to the gilded ceiling which ascended into an arched dome that was painted in glorious frescos of Him on Terra, the effect was somewhat spoiled by the dirty soot smeared across the windows and the gaps in the murals where tiles have been rattled loose by terrible blasts.

This was the grand council chamber for the Masters of the Storm Heralds Chapter, a place where decisions that affected trillions of lives were made and where history had unfolded, today it would do so once again. Set underneath the centre of the dome were a dozen chairs positioned in a semi-circle and sitting in those chairs were the Masters of the Storm Heralds, they were grim faced and stern for recent events had not been kind to the Chapter.

Only five months earlier their homeworld had suffered a terrible invasion by the forces of Chaos, the Third Company had been obliterated and the Fortress Monastery itself had been attacked. The war had been won but the cost had been great and the home of the Chapter had been practically levelled, even now the Storm Heralds were struggling to rebuild all that had been lost. Cleansing the planet had taken weeks, even for the full might of the chapter but they had not been allowed to linger, war called eternally and the bulk of their forces had been summoned away once more.

Sitting in one chair was Captain Toran, he was a young officer who had been promoted only recently during the fighting, his elevation had been controversial and his current position was uncertain in this council. His face was sternly set and he had one augmetic eye that flashed as he looked around at the assembled Lords and took in the mood of each.

In the very centre was Chapter Master Gorgall who was a surprisingly gaunt individual, lean and spare with nothing wasted at all about him, Gorgall seemed weary as if all the cares of the galaxy were pressing down upon him and the last few months had aged him terribly. Sitting to the Chapter Master's left was Chief Apothecary Lessall, who was furiously scowling at everything with his scarred visage. There was an air of tension between the pair for they vehemently disagreed on the Chapter's future, whether to cleave to the secular rule of Terra or embrace the Emperor as a divine being and so circumvent the High Lord's rule. The disagreement had blown up into a power struggle and there was no telling who would emerge victorious for the Chapter was deeply divided on whether they should stand with their allies or assert their autonomy as an isolated Chapter.

Toran's eye wandered on and he saw Ninth Captain Phalros, sitting primly with his senatorial expression giving nothing away. He had been placed in charge of the rebuilding of the Fortress Monastery, a task that would take years but if he resented such labours he gave no sign. Across from him was Chaplain Wrethan who was standing in a medical exoskeleton, his wounds in the fighting had been severe and even months later was not ready to don power armour. The Chaplain's recovery was slow but he would fight again, so until then he would stand in the Reclusiarch's place while the Master of Sanctity was away at war.

The Forgemaster was incapable of leaving his communion with the machine spirits so an equerry in the form of Techmarine Hevostan stood in for him. The last member of the gathering was Chief Librarian Echeb but Toran barely glanced at the warrior-mystic, he had no wish to attract the attention of the Warp and no matter how sanctioned they were he was determined to spend as little time as possible in the presence of a Psyker.

Toran took a moment to reflect on the purpose of this momentous gathering, the Storm Heralds were being visited by emissaries of another Chapter: the Smoke-Jaguars. They were visiting to pay respects as they passed, for encounters between Astartes Chapters had a lamentable history of tension and bloodshed. Space Marines technically had the right to go where they will but Astartes were notoriously prickly about what they considered 'their' domains, so the custom had evolved that when operating near to another Chapter's home newcomers would first pay their respects. The visitor would pretend that they needed permission to go wherever they hell they pleased and the host would pretend that their consent made the slightest bit of difference: it wasn't an ideal system but it generally kept bloodshed to a minimum.

Toran was exhilarated by the coming encounter, in a century of service he had never laid eyes upon Space Marines of another order and he could not help wondering how strange these foreigners would appear. He knew the Smoke-Jaguars were a later successor of the Raven Guard, children of the Primarch Corax and they hailed from the jungle world of Copan XII but other than that the records were scant for encounters between the two Chapters had been few and far between. Toran wondered if these visitors would bear the genetic idiosyncrasies said to define the other bloodlines, would they bear great fangs like the Space Wolves or charcoal skin like the Salamanders? He wondered if their faces would be filled with hauntingly beautiful sorrow like the Blood Angels or be cold and emotionless like the Iron Hands, perhaps they would even be plagued with more horrific traits like those said to afflict the Black Dragons.

He was shaken from his musings by the blare of horns at the far end of the chamber and he spied a pair of Honour Guards marching in with power axes raised ceremonially; Toran gripped his chair in eagerness as he saw more warriors following them into great hall. His elation faded somewhat as he saw the visitors, ten Space Marines in plain power armour holding unloaded bolters in parade formation: a basic Tactical squad.

They seemed to favour Mark VI plate though there were a couple boasting Mark VII gear; their colours were a dark, gravely brown on their legs that slowly faded to black as it rose to meet their torsos while their arms and pauldrons were a smokey grey shade. Their Chapter badge was a leaping feline predator in profile with claws and fangs exposed and the only physical difference between them and the Storm Heralds was that they were uniformly pale skinned with short black hair and dark eyes. Their plate was curiously bare and lacked embellishments, honour badges or personal heraldry, in fact there was nothing about them that glistened or gleamed and even the metal of their bolters was dulled. Toran wondered how they would fare against one of his own squads and proudly decided that the Storm Heralds would prove more than a match for these warriors.

His confidence was shaken however by the emergence of one last visitor, this one covered in adornments and strange knotwork patterns, he had an open book pinned on one shoulder plate and many scrolls hung from his belt. His armour was mostly coloured as a Smoke-Jaguar's but his right arm and shoulder were the deepest shade of blue, he carried a thick staff topped with a ram's skull and over his pale head arched a psychic hood: the Smoke-Jaguars had sent a Librarian. Toran gripped his chair fiercely at the sight as the visitors parade marched forwards, he had been uncomfortable in the presence of one psyker but to be in the same room as two made his skin crawl. Still these were honoured guests and it was the Chapter Master's decision whether to welcome or dismiss them so Toran held his tongue.

Swiftly the Smoke-Jaguars approached then stopped as Gorgall spoke loudly, "Greetings cousins, in the name of Him on Terra I welcome you into our hearths and halls." The Librarian bowed low and spoke stiffly in a curious lisping accent, "Light of the Dawn upon you, I am Shade-Seer Imix K'awiil and in the name of the Sun-Emperor I come to renew our brotherhood."

Gorgall nodded respectfully and said, "Your coming is most fortuitous but I regret that the Storm Heralds have poor fare to offer you, as you may have noticed our Monastery is not looking at its best." Imix's lip twitched as the jest diplomatically broke the ice and he replied deadpan, "Ah yes I had noticed a bit of loose stone on the way up… one more blood debt against those treacherous snakes."

Lessall sat forwards and asked suspiciously, "Then your appearance here is no coincidence, you knew about the recent attack?"

Imix replied confidently, "The stars whispered to our oracles and prophesised the coming of serpents to your shores, our Shade-Lord K'inich Yux bade us come to offer you aid in this blackest of nights."

Now it was Echeb who spoke up to say, "Fine words and yet Copan XII is far from here, either your Epistolaries possess remarkable clairvoyance or you were already in the area."

Imix didn't seem perturbed as he replied, "Indeed, we were pursuing the spoor of the serpents and the trail led us to a nest just within your horizons."

That statement brought gasps from all around, the idea of Traitors lurking so close to a Space Marine homeworld was shocking and Lessall barked, "You claim Traitors base themselves within our protectorates, you offer insult!"

Imix shook his head and said, "No insult was intended, the Traitors are cunning and sly, even constant vigilance is not always enough."

Toran was shocked to find he agreed with the Psyker but still he said, "The Alpha Legion was heavily involved in the attack, if anyone could hide under our noses it would be them, in fact they would delight in it."

Lessall glared at the visitors saying, "You evade the truth, you are concealing your real reason for coming."

Imix's face fell and he said, "Not concealing, surely you know that the Traitors stole the chariot of our beloved Primarch, their sacrilege demands retribution."

Chaplain Wrethan drew in a painful breath and replied, "So you are here to avenge the insult to your gene-sire."

That statement produced nods of understanding for the recent attack had been led by the Shadow of the Emperor, the nigh-mythical flagship of Corvus Corax. Its capture was an affront none of his descendants could ignore and the Storm Heralds understood all too well the need for vengeance, it was something dear to the hearts of every Space Marine. Captain Phalros spoke up to say, "So you have a mission and a potential target location, which begs the question: why did you come here first?"

Now Imix at last looked uncomfortable as he admitted, "Having a target and having the ability to raze it are two different things, we have a Strike Cruiser yet we number but a single squad. I am formally requesting aid to investigate this location and annihilate it should the snakes yet dwell there." Gorgall rubbed his chin in thought for a moment then declared, "Our Chapter is heavily involved in holding back the Tyrannid menace, but this is a threat we cannot ignore. We must consider this matter further, send us your data and we shall review it, if it is sound we shall assign a Company to your flag. Return here in twelve hours, until then my honour guard shall escort you to a barracks where you may enjoy our hospitality, such as it is."

Imix bowed low in respect and turned to follow the Honour Guards out with his Smoke-Jaguars as Toran watched them go. He was glad to be out of the presence of the Psyker but somehow he had a nagging suspicion that he had not seen the last of this, his gut sank as he turned around and realised that Chapter Master Gorgall was staring at him thoughtfully.