CHAPTER 9 The Dragons Strife
"I am doing this for Mankind"- First Captain Artellus Numeon, before opening fire on the Flamewrought, in the Nocturne system.
-Excerpt from the Dark Chapter in the Tome of Fire, written by Barris Kal'sho, formerly of the Pyre Guard. -
We were returning from a successful Compliance action against the world of 154-75. A Civilized World founded by humans who had crashed there during the Age of Strife, and had to rebuild anew.
Our Primarch's diplomatic abilities managed to get the world inside the Imperium without any shot fired. A good outcome, in fact. There are so many xenos out there trying to kill us without us killing each other.
Our fleet needed resupply, so Lord Vulkan ordered the fleet to Nocturne with all speed. It felt good to be home, among our family, our clans. Even if only for a while.
It was a well-earned respite from the constant war of the Great Crusade, which was heading towards its end. After Ullanor, there was no longer a single entity capable of challenging the might of our Imperium. Soon, we would have had peace.
How foolish we were.
As the final day of the seventh month in the Nocturnean calendar died, and the first one of the eighth began, most of us were among our families, to enjoy the company of our clans. To enjoy peace.
Little did we know that would be our last day of peace. After that, for the Salamanders, there would be only war.
We were seven. The Pyre Guard. The chosen of Vulkan. On that day, we became six. And the Fallen was born.
-Aboard the Flamewrought, The Darkest Day.-
Vulkan was in the Command Tower of our great flagship, the Flamewrought. One of the Gloriana class Battleships, it was the most glorious vessel our Legion possessed. Twenty-two kilometres of volcanic armor, it was one of the most resilient vessels in the Imperial Fleet, after the Vengeful Spirit and the ships of the Death Guard. Weapons batteries straddled the ship's superstructure, which was crowned by a dragon's head. The symbol of our Legion.
Our loved Primarch was overseeing the preparations of his return upon Nocturne after so many years. Everything was fine, nothing could foreshadow what was about to happen.
When he received notification from his First Captain, Artellus Numeon, that he was bringing the Charybdis and three Battle Companies (the 3rd , the 15th and the 31st, numbering 15000 Marines in total, to a wargame in the Oort cloud of Nocturne, he authorized the exercise.
He believed that Numeon should have relaxed himself. He had been tested in the fires of the Crusade more than enough. He was on Nocturne. He was among his Legionnaires, he was in his adopted home. If one knew only fighting, then he would no longer be capable of living in peace and would constantly live in war…
Suddenly, an Astropathic message reached us all. It was sent from Terra. Its content was most distressing.
"This is Warmaster Mortarion to all Loyalist Imperial Forces. Emergency Code Halo is in effect. All Loyalist Legion forces are to return to Terra at once. We are betrayed. We are at war."
Vulkan looked worried. This was not part of Numeon's wargame. Emergency Code Halo had been issued only once, during the Rangdan Xenocides, when it seemed the powerful xenos would break through all Imperial lines and reach Terra, delivering the death knell to the Imperium. Invoking it was either madness or it meant that things were deathly serious, that a galactic scale disaster was happening…
And besides, since when Mortarion called himself Warmaster?! Horus was the Warmaster. He had been named as such by the Emperor on Ullanor, during the Triumph. It would be hubris of the highest order for the Lord of Death to claim that title for himself…
Then he remembered one thing. If there was a Primarch who would not go around claiming the highest authority of all for himself, that was Mortarion. The Lord of Death did not do anything without a damn good reason…
Vulkan decided it was better to check…
"Contact the Charybdis. I am canceling the wargame. Recheck the message for the necessary clearance codes from Terra. Find out if it is a fake or a drill message."
"Yes, my Lord."-his vox officer responded, heading for the Astropathic chambers.
Vulkan exhaled, hoping this was some sort of drill. Mortarion and his damn paranoia. The Lord of Death was always concerned about threats only he seemed to notice. And let's not talk about Perturabo and his Legion, closest to the Lord of Death. Their father's paranoia, born out of his experiences on Olympia, extended to his entire Legion.
The officer called him. His voice was trembling.
"Lord Primarch, we and the Astropaths reexamined the message with double and triple security checks…and it is confirmed. It is not a drill. The Code Halo message was sent from the Imperial Palace. The Astropathic Choir has confirmed that Mortarion is the new Warmaster."
Vulkan turned. His face was frozen in shock. "WHAT..."
He never got an answer, as suddenly the Flamewrought shut down. All power aboard flickered and died. The Tech-priests aboard, chosen by his Equerry Numeon, had revolted and seized command of the power generators, overriding them and forcing them to shut down. Then came the worst.
The Charybdis and the other ships which Numeon had chosen to participate in the wargame… opened fire on the Flamewrought. Lances, torpedoes and all other kinds of spaceborne ordnance crashed upon the hull of the battleship, saved only by its strong volcanic armor.
But the bombardment would soon pierce that mighty armor if the shields did not go back online soon.
"Lord Vulkan, this is Techmarine Urzan. We managed to take Auxiliary Power Center Three. Transferring power to the bridge now."
The lights on the bridge reactivated. The bridge officers soon realized the gravity of the situation."Lord Vulkan! According to the Auspexes, the Charybdis and the other three Companies' fleet are approaching us for another barrage. Their Void Shields are raised and they are not responding to our hails!"
"Open the Primarch Exclusive Channel. They cannot block that channel. We need to know what is going on."
"Yes, my lord."
The Primarch Exclusive Channel was a Vox channel specially installed aboard all Legion ships. Only a Primarch could authorize its use. It allowed the commanding Primarch to reach any Legion ship he wished to contact, overriding all Vox-blocking systems. No jamming system could block the extremely advanced systems, relics of the Dark Age.
The channel opened after a few seconds, with the holothic projector showing the armored form of Artellus Numeon, his First Captain and Equerry.
"What the hell is happening, Numeon? Why are you firing upon us? Have you gone mad?"
The answer chilled Vulkan's bones to the core.
"Simple. The Imperium is destined to shackle humanity down, and those who seek to lead humanity to greatness have realized this truth."
"Artellus, you are not making any…sense…."
"I have seen the future, Father. And I do not like it. The Imperium we have built and are striving to preserve will turn into a regime preaching ignorance and suppressing the truth. We chose to do anything is required to avert this future."
"What are you talking about?"
"Guardianship of the human species must go to those whose evolution is most complete. The Emperor has chosen to shackle them…us….and give the Imperium to the inferior, to the unworthy. The future is clear…we can try to avert it or be irrevocably broken by it."
"Who has taught you these lies? Who dares to claim the ability to see into the future?"
Artellus chuckled. No need to deny him now.
"Magnus the Red. He has taught me the cost of inaction. He has taught me what would happen if those who can act do not. Know this, Father…I am doing this for Mankind." The vox channel went dead, the Charybdis firing another Lance barrage.
Vulkan was broken for four seconds. To him they lasted an eternity. The mere thought of his legion breaking in two was inconceivable. Through the actions of his own chosen son. He then refocused his mind into saving the rest, those who were still loyal to him and were fighting to reclaim the ship.
He exited the bridge, going to help his loyal sons retake the Void Shield Generators from the rebellious Tech-Priests and their Skitarii guards. It was difficult. But the Salamanders were one of the finest legions at boarding actions. Once their Primarch reappeared, the shock of the betrayal wore off, and they fought on with renewed vigour.
In the end, the renegade Tech-Priests and their guards died, consumed by Flamers and Bolters, and the Flamewrought's Void Shields reactivated. Just in time to absorb a barrage of torpedoes from the traitorous ships.
The Charybdis veered to turn her broadside to the Flamewrought, seemingly wishing to engage the battleship, which would have been suicidal: No Legion Battleship could face a Gloriana-class, however damaged, 1 on 1 and hope to win. But the Traitor ship fired two Cyclonic Torpedo straight at the Flamewrought.
With the Point Defense guns down due to the Tech-Priests' sabotage action, there was no way to stop them. Vulkan at first ordered to dodge them, but then turned his head and realized where the torpedoes would go if the Flamewrought avoided them.
Straight into Nocturne.
Horrified, Vulkan realized Numeon's inhuman tactic. If he took the torpedoes, the Flamewrought would be heavily damaged and unable to stop the Traitors, but if he avoided it his world would be shattered by the warheads' powerful energies and all life on it would die in a cataclysmic explosion.
He gave the only order a man could give in such a situation.
"All hands-brace for impact."
The Cyclonic Torpedoes struck the Void shields as one, and for a while Nocturne's sky was lit by a second sun. The nomadic tribesmen of the volcanic plains and the men of the Seven Cities looked up, unable to comprehend what was happening above them. Unable to comprehend that their Legion was tearing itself apart in fire and war.
When the blast dissipated, the Flamewrought was revealed. Or what was left of it.
The entire bow was missing, torn away by the baleful energies of the Cyclonic Torpedoes.
The rest of the ship was heavily damaged. Armor plates vaporized, exposing the hull braces beneath. Coolant pipes leaking their content in the void. Human crewmembers floating in zero-gravity, their lungs exploded through decompression. Many Astartes too were dead, either vaporized in the bow or crushed by crumbling parts of the ship.
But Nocturne lived. As the Primarch went to the damaged parts of the ship to rescue his sons trapped there and stared into the void, through the autosenses of his Artificer-wrought helmet, he saw the Traitors had left, utilizing the distraction of their WMD attack.
They would go on to join Magnus' armies. At the same time, hidden Numeonites within other Companies, activated by secret code-words by Numeon, which took for themselves the name of Flame Casters, would stage uprisings all across the galaxy against their loyalist brethren on dispersed battlegroups or attack Loyalist worlds, adding more fuel to the fires of this newborn Heresy.
Thus began the Secret Shame of the Salamanders. The secret that outside the Eighteenth, only the other Primarchs know, and that can still bring damnation upon the sons of Nocturne if the Inquisition's Monodominant members ever learned of it.
But Vulkan lived. This would become the rallying cry of the loyalist Salamanders all across the galaxy, during the Heresy, the Purification and the following ten-thousand years. The emblem of the Traitors' failure at the Battle of Nocturne.
"Vulkan lives!"
Yes, he lived. But his Legion, the Salamanders, were changed beyond hope of recovery.
-END OF CHAPTER-
-Aboard the Charybdis-
Now-former First Captain Artellus Numeon entered his private quarters aboard the Charybdis.
He activated a secret holo-projector, which was hidden inside the wall. The machine was a Zhao-Arkkad Pattern holoprojector, based on technology recovered from an STC in the Southern Halo Stars by the Tech-Priests of the isolated Forge World.
The projector soon revealed a shape, which was unclear at first, but soon morphed into the one of a red-skinned transhuman being. Magnus the Red himself. The Arch-Traitor. "Report."
"It is done, my Lord. The Nocturne Sector Fleet is in disarray. The Flamewrought is destroyed. Vulkan is dead."
"Good. Join my forces in the Dominion. Then await further instructions."
Magnus the Red cut the connection. This risky scheme had paid off in the end. He had devoted a part of his own power into this endeavor, using it to awaken Numeon's hidden psychic potential and boost it to very high levels. It was a power which the Prosperine people had researched and described in their ancient texts, but never dared to use, for too few were capable of successfully mastering it and keep their sanity afterwards.
Through it, he had successfully turned a non-psyker into a high Beta level. Of course, such a power came at a price. The Astartes' sanity. Numeon, fearful of this new, unknown (to him) power slowly increasing within him and hearing the ever-growing voices calling to him from the Great Ocean, sought help, but he could not call upon the Librarians, for they had already been disbanded after the Council of Nikaea. Thus he had sought the help of the Pavoni Cult of the Thousand Sons, the Legion's healers and Biomancers, during a joint Compliance mission to cure himself of what he called "the sickness". The Pavoni, who were unaware of their own Primarch's scheme, immediately recognized the symptoms as those normally exhibited by an emerging psyker, noting the …unusual…late appearance of the power.
He had kept them in the dark about this scheme, so that the First Captain would perceive their answers as completely honest attempts to help a fellow psyker understand his condition and not sense through his budding powers any attempt at deception.
He was counseled into learning to harness this power instead of trying to suppress it. Magnus the Red asked for Numeon to be assigned to a Thousand Sons fleet "to cement the bond between their two Legions." Vulkan did not object, believing it was an honest attempt by his brother to remain friendly after Nikaea. Magnus purposefully sent him to train with Auramagma, the Magister Templi of the Pyrae Cult, on Prospero. His newfound talent, along with his natural inclination towards fire granted to him by his gene-seed, allowed him to surpass all other Pyrae aspirants, to the point he reached a level of affinity with pyrokinesis on par with Auramagma himself….and even beyond.
It was then that Magnus taught him of the Warp, and of what he had learned there. Together, they saw the future as the Chaos Gods had showed him: an Imperium where an insane bureaucracy ruled, and psykers were sacrificed in their thousands to keep the Emperor alive forever and make him ascend to godhood.
Numeon was horrified by these visions: psykers…those like him…were used as living batteries to power an arcane device which served as its sole purpose to keep the Emperor alive and make him reach godhood. This shattered the First Captain's loyalty to the Emperor, and made him swear loyalty to Magnus the Red, who sought to build a New Kingdom where those with psychic potential, who had reached a new step on Mankind's evolutionary ladder, were finally in charge of the species' destiny. Nature itself dictated this. One day, the whole of Mankind would be psychic, ascending to a whole new level.
The choice was simple: embrace this future or foolishly reject it…and lead humanity to the Eldar's fate, who were now shackling themselves through the Paths and living as nomadic refugees or as primitives on untamed worlds, to avoid the ravenous attentions of a goddess they themselves had created, through their debauchery and thirst for ever-greater sensations.
After illuminating Numeon, he sent him back to his Legion, ordering him to find new acolytes and enlighten them on the same truths he had shown him…without being noticed by Vulkan.
The Promethean was supportive of him at Nikaea, but he knew that Vulkan was too loyal to the Emperor to be swayed. He would have to be neutralized and fast.
And now, his shadow apprentice was bringing him 13.000 more Astartes, ready to be schooled by the Pyrae Cult, an entire fleet of Legion ships, and had successfully wrecked a Loyalist Gloriana-class Battleship beyond repair. And killed a Primarch.
A clear victory for the New Kingdom.
Magnus the Red laughed, and four timeless entities laughed with him, feeding on the feelings of soul-shattering betrayal rising inside the sons of Nocturne's minds.
HISTORY FILE: NUMEON' S BETRAYAL AND THE BLACK DRAGONS.
WARNING: THIS FILE DETAILS THE TAINT RUNNING INSIDE A LOYALIST LEGION. CONSULTATION IS STRICTLY RESERVED TO PRIMARCHS AND HARROWMASTERS OF THE TWENTIETH LEGION, BY ORDER OF ALPHARIUS.
UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS WILL BE MET BY IMMEDIATE TERMINATION OF THE CULPRIT AND OF HIS NINE CLOSEST FAMILIAL CIRCLES.
FOR THE EMPEROR, NOW AND ALWAYS.
The Salamanders are believed one of the most loyal Legions ever, second only to the Death Guard. Their stubborn resistance at the Siege of Terra, where they held back the mighty Dreadwing of the Dark Angels, and the Titans of the Legio Ignatum, and resisted even the hordes of Slaanesh's Daemonettes summoned by the Ultramarines' debased Sorcerers, is still remembered ten thousand years later.
They also helped found the Promethean Cult, which has replaced the corrupt Ecclesiarchy, revealed as a hidden tool of the Dark Gods after the Age of Apostasy and the tyrannical rule of the Black Ecclesiarch, Sebastian Thor, who murdered the High Lord Goge Vandire and came closest to destroying the Imperium since Magnus the Red himself.
The Promethean Cult is now the official religion of the Imperial Guard, Navy and military forces and has spread even among the general population, who regard Nocturne as the center of their faith.
All this is true…except the very first affirmation.
For the Eighteenth Legion suffered a grave schism during the Heresy, a few days after the Dusk Coup.
This betrayal was led by none other than Artellus Numeon, First Captain and Equerry to Vulkan himself.
He opened fire on the Primarch's flagship, and tried to destroy Nocturne itself, which was only saved by the valiant sacrifice of the Flamewrought, damaged beyond repair by the Traitors' attack.
He then joined the Pyrae Cult of the Fifteenth Legion, becoming the most skilled pyromancer ever recorded, surpassing even Auramagma himself, the Magister Templi of the Pyrae Cult.
During the Heresy, some Numeonites were killed by Loyalist forces, but were believed to be isolated cases of betrayal, like those in most other Loyalist Legions.
It was at Terra that the Numeonites revealed their full might and numbers, forcing Vulkan to reveal to Mortarion what had happened at Nocturne.
In the aftermath of the Siege, the remaining Loyalist Primarchs convened. The Numeonites were a key point of the Shadow Council.
The Loyalist Primarchs agreed that the Secret of Vulkan had to be preserved. The Loyal Salamanders had proved themselves to be valiant at Terra. To see them cast out as potential traitors was wrong…and a loss the unstable Imperium, still reeling from the loss of the Emperor, could not tolerate.
They swore binding oaths of secrecy to their brother, and promised to never reveal the truth to anyone.
On his part, Vulkan reorganized his legion…and his planet. He made sure all people on Nocturne learned what had happened in the Battle of Nocturne, ten years before. He believed he would not be able to keep the secret for long, and it would have poisoned the minds of his people anyway.
Their reaction…was full of hate and desire of vengeance. At the Gathering of Skarokk, the people all swore terrible binding oaths of loyalty and service to Vulkan, oaths which still bind the people of Nocturne to this day. The families of those Legionnaires who had turned to Numeon changed their names out of shame and swore to remain in Skarokk and yield as many sons as possible to the Legion to atone for their kin's crimes.
The Pyre Guard, most shamed by Numeon's fall, was kept, as were the Firedrakes. Vulkan believed that the actions of the Loyal members of these units at his side were honorable, and did not deserve to be erased due to the actions of few.
What was erased was the name of the Traitors on the rolls of honor, scoured away by volcanic lava, never to be restored.
The Firedrakes did however paint the left vambraces on their armor jet-black as a badge of shame, to be removed and recolored in reptilian green only when Artellus Numeon was confirmed killed : only then would the black mark on their history be finally scoured away.
Vulkan did however reform his Legion, creating a new unit inside his Legion: the Black Dragons.
Made up of those sons of Vulkan who sought to erase the shame of the Betrayal, they were given specialized ships to roam the galaxy, hunting for the followers of Numeon, who named themselves the Flame Casters.
Many Salamanders have forsaken a role in the First Company to take the mantle of the Black Dragon and hunt the Traitors of that bygone age. Some however are forced to take the mantle, as they survived a battle where a Flame Caster was involved. This first-hand experience in facing the ancient Traitors cannot be wasted, and so the Legionary is ordered by the Chaplains of the Legion to "take the mantle of the Black Dragon".
Brought to the Black Dragons' fortress in the city of Skarokk, they are taken and trained by a master, a veteran of the Hunt for the Flame Casters. They are taught all about the Flame Casters, their origins, their combat tactics, their sorcerous pyromantic powers, taught to them by the sons of the Arch-Traitor, and how to counter them.
On the battlefield, the Black Dragons wear jet black-painted suits of armor of many Marks, most of them dating back to the Heresy, and search for the Flame Casters, hunting them with a passion and a fury which proved capable of shaking even the composure of Mortarion himself.
The Black Dragons are a reminder to the sons of Nocturne of the dreadful events of ten thousand years ago, and as such, they are avoided when possible, such as before or after a battle. In an active warzone though, their presence is a certainty: a Flame Caster is around. The ranking officer of the Eighteenth will yield his authority to the Black Dragon, and follow his every command as if they came from the mouth of Vulkan himself.
One primary characteristic of the Black Dragons' combat doctrine, otherwise extremely adaptable, is that they never use psychic powers to kill a Flame Caster. In their eyes, psychic powers were the means through which Artellus Numeon was corrupted. So these powers cannot be used to kill them, as this would mean coming closer to where Numeon was before his fall and give the Traitors an opening to corrupt more sons of Vulkan.
Unfortunately for their order, the Flame Casters have ten thousand years of experience on their side, and dreadful pacts with the Pavoni Cult biomancers or Dark Mechanicum hereteks or even darker entities to prolong their accursed lives. Some have even used xeno-tech, proving themselves capable of returning from the dead through forbidden science harvested from debased Dark Eldar Haemonculi or through the fabled Halo Devices. Also, some loyal sons of Nocturne have fallen over the past ten thousand years, joining the Flame Casters and reopening old wounds in the people of Nocturne's psyche.
Particularly infamous is the fall of Sergeant Delphus of the 4th Company, during the War on Char-Loh XI. He betrayed his comrades, murdering eight of them and knelt before Artellus Numeon himself, before helping him burn all people inside Hive Payer-20 million incinerated by Warp-fire, soon followed by the remaining 941 million inhabitants of the planet.
His mortal brother, who had not been chosen as Astartes in his time, as the news came to Nocturne, willingly walked into the volcanic crater of Mount Deathfire, to offer his life in atonement to Vulkan for his brother's crimes. He is still mourned on Nocturne, who named him "the Astartes Who Should Have Been."
Artellus Numeon himself has always eluded the Black Dragons, successfully slaying every one that came close to reaching him through his fire mastery and his Power Halberd. No one ever survived contact with him. No one.
Until 775.M41.
A Salamanders Tactical Battle-Brother on his first deployment, named Nihilan, successfully survived combat with Artellus Numeon himself armed only with a Bolter, after the Arch-Betrayer had slain an entire company of the Black Dragons and a Venerable Castraferrum Dreadnought of the Eighteenth Legion on the now-Dead World of Lycannor. After being recovered by the rest of the Legion force sent there, he was sent to Nocturne immediately, with all due reverence.
There, he was taken as an apprentice by Vai'tan Ushorak, a renowned veteran of the Black Dragons who had retired from the Hunt after seeing one too many of his students die at the hand of the Flame Casters, and asked to remain upon Nocturne to serve in the Promethean Guard. An unprecedented request which was granted due to the grave soul-pain wracking the old warrior's soul, one so powerful the Regent could not ignore. Upon hearing of Nihilan's unprecedented feat, he felt the weight of destiny upon him. The old warrior left his post and went to the Regent of Prometheus, reclaiming his ancient role as a Black Dragon Master and requesting to personally train Nihilan as his newest apprentice.
His request was granted at once.
Under Ushorak's tutelage, the former Battle-Brother proved to be one of the finest apprentices the Black Dragons ever had.
In the words of Ushorak himself: "The finest sword I ever forged."
Ushorak and Nihilan have travelled around the galaxy together, with Nihilan racking up the highest kill-count ever achieved by the Black Dragons: 493 Flame Casters dead at his hands, plus 50 more killed by Ushorak, who had been in his prime one of the most prolific killers of Flame Casters, with 242 confirmed kills. Among those is former Sergeant Delphus, the Traitor of Char-Loh, incapacitated and ritually executed by Nihilan with an Aspirant's Blade-the one forged during training by the Astartes Who Should Have Been.
According to the Apothecaries, his unmatched ability against the Flame Casters is due to his carrying a recessive variant of the Pariah Gene, making him a Blank. Such a mutant had not appeared on Nocturne in more than three thousand years, as all bloodlines carrying the gene had died out during a suicide attack by a Blood Angels warband, which some said had been conducted for this very reason.
The Apothecaries have thus postulated his gene is the result of an extremely rare, one in billions chance, de novo mutation in his DNA that resulted in a fully functioning, albeit recessive, copy of the Gene. A random, non-corrected, error during the DNA replication as an embryo drastically changed the destiny of Nihilan. What he was destined to become is still a mystery, even to the most skilled Librarians.
His calming effects on the Warp are the reason the Flame Casters are at a disadvantage against him, their pyromantic powers rendered near-useless by the Gene.
It is the hope of many in the Eighteenth Legion that at last, through Nihilan, the ancient shame might be scoured away, that the Eighteenth Legion may at last be free of the shadow of Numeon.
But, as a wise man said:
"Hope is the first step on the road to disappointment."
The Imperium will have to see whether this adage proves true once more…or if at last, the more than ten thousand years old dark soul that calls itself Artellus Numeon has at last met its match.
END FILE.
WE ARE THE HYDRA. WE KNOW ALL.