Armed Freighter Cryptic Retribution, in orbit over Armageddon, 4 195.000.M42
Rest and relaxation were the key orders of the day. Over the last few days, conflicts with the Orks had resulted in what appeared mostly to be victories for the Imperial forces on-world. Further bolstering the offensive was the arrival of more elements of the forces that had dedicated themselves to his cause - practically everyone had arrived from their response to his message - even those Blackshields of the Deathwatch. The only ones that he had seen no sight from were of the individual known as the Unbound Flame.
Perhaps someone was attempting to play a joke.
In any event, a myriad of Chapter Masters had joined the millennial for a feast of grandiose proportions - a celebratory meal in honor of the Alpha Crusade's beginning. Officially, it was in honor of the Emperor - but to the pseudo-Inquisitor, the event was nothing more than something to calm his nerves, to ensure that he remained confident in the company of men far greater than he.
A sight of incredulous rarity filled the halls of the armed freighter, copious cargo bay converted to a dining space through the constant toil of servitors. The millennial himself sat at the head of the table, Gabriel Seth to his left and Gabriel Angelos to his right. At his table as well were Mulceber and Drakgaard, Captains of the Salamanders' 5th and 6th companies, Chapter Master Thrasius of the Scythes of the Emperor - even Anton Narvaez, Chapter Master of the Marines Errant and hero of the Badab War. Around the table of Chapter Masters, Captains, and heroes of the Imperium, were other tables where honored guests were seated, General Kurov amongst them.
"Heroes of the..." He began, before his voice rang throughout the cargo bay. He fiddled with his armor's vox-caster before restarting, moving to raise his glass with a gauntleted hand. "Heroes of the Imperium, all of you are here to, for this rare occasion, reap the rewards of your service. Many of you have lifetimes of experience in purging the abominations that desire to threaten the Imperium. For this, we feast today. In memory of the victories won. In memory of the glories to come..." He paused in remembrance. "...and in memory of those we've lost or left behind. We fight for the Emperor. We fight for the Imperium. But above all - we fight for the safety of mankind." Loud cries of 'Aye!" resonated throughout the hold as he turned to Chapter Master Angelos, smiling as best he could at the heavily augmented Astartes.
"I complete this toast with a ceremonial reading of a text I'm sure you're all quite familiar with... but it seems most appropriate, all things considered." Clearing his throat, he reached for a scroll he had left lying on a smaller table to his right, unraveling it as he looked over the crowd, all expectantly gazing upon him.
"They shall be my finest warriors, these men who give themselves to me." He began. "Like clay I shall mold them. and in the furnace of war... forge them. They will be of iron will and steeled muscle. In great armor I shall clad them - and with the mightiest guns, they shall be armed. They will be untouched by plague or disease - no sickness will blight them." He began to speak with more conviction, thrusting his vocalization into his reading as though he were the man people believed him to be. "They will have such tactics, strategies, and machines that no foe can best them in battle. They are my bulwark against terror. They are the defenders of humanity..." He paused, scanning one final time across the room, praying silently he received the reaction he was hoping for.
"They are my Space Marines..." As he trailed off, he waited for a response - which first came from, oddly enough, Dalia Cythera.
"And they shall know no fear." It seemed to resonate with an individual sitting further down the main table - the Thunder Warrior known as Ghota.
"And they shall know no fear!" He stood up from his seat, the the stripped bone of a large grox in his hand as he gazed over the hall. One by one, the other Astartes began to repeat the simple litany until it had spread throughout the room. Now, the millennial decided, was the time to try again.
"They are my Space Marines..."
"AND THEY SHALL KNOW NO FEAR!" A rousing response filled the cargo bay, a spark of merriment filling the hearts of the many battle-brothers as they began to dig into their meals. Khoisan Neotera of the Mantis Warriors sipped of the pale ale laid out as a part of the meal, while the Chapter Master of the Knights of Blood, Ichorin Hemat, sank his teeth into a large grox steak. Arkash Hakkon of the Executioners spoke of the Badab War with a pair of Lions Viridian across from him as a Deathwatch Blackshield watched in silence. The millennial himself enjoyed a hearty helping of what looked to be some form of mashed potatoes, succinctly sauteed with butter - he wondered what made butter nowadays, but perhaps that was best left unthought.
A servitor arrived at his side, and as he crossly turned towards the organic machine, its mechanical hand gave him a large vellum scroll which he shortly unraveled. After scanning it over, he slowly stood up, a semi-sincere smile crossing his face. "My apologies gentlemen, but something has come up. Please, continue to enjoy yourselves." He slowly walked out of the room, but not before forgetting to shut his mic off immediately.
"The fuck is a Judgement of Carrion..."
Battle Barge Litany of Fury, fringe of Armageddon system, 4 200.000.M42
It had taken a long conversation with Gabriel Angelos, Veteran Sergeant Cyrus of the Tenth Company, and Veteran Sergeant Tarkus in order for him to understand how important the mysterious appearance of the Space Hulk in this system was. That it had broken a consistent pattern of appearing and disappearing from the Aurelia subsector was a dreadful sign to those who kept the lore of the Blood Ravens - that it had followed them here was an ill omen. Techmarine Martellus speculated that fluctuations in the vessel's Warp core had sensed weakness in the chapter, some ancient machine-spirit seeking to test the chapter once again. Even the millennial had his own theory - perhaps it was those accursed Kyrans that had previously shown themselves.
The monstrous hulk's engines were burning - a certain sign that something had changed within the vessel. Though previous examinations had shown little if anything in the way of armament, the hulk was still gargantuan, easily as large as the almost mythical Gloriana-class Battle Barges forged for the Primarchs millennia ago, if not larger. That it was active seemed strange - that it was on course for Armageddon itself was stranger. Tarkus and his squad had been outfitted in their Terminator armor - a squad of scouts found themselves tagging along courtesy of the desire of Cyrus to give the fresh recruits an opportunity to hone their skills in the wake of their crusade's beginning. Intriguingly enough, Gabriel Angelos himself was waiting for them upon their embarking within the drop pods, the mighty daemonhammer known as God-Splitter held within his grasp. The Dreadclaw, now festooned with the symbols of the Imperial Inquisition to further the acceptance of the Inquisitor as such, stood wide open as the warriors entered within the ancient craft.
"This is an impressive relic of the Legions." Gabriel responded. "Where did you acquire it?"
The millennial situated himself within the drop pod's restraints, doing his best to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. "Basically, I snagged it in the Alpha Centauri system. It used to be blue, then black, then I added the sigils to it. It's the only one of its kind in Imperial service, from what I can tell."
"For good reason." Martellus interjected. "They are almost ubiquitous with the touch of Chaos."
"Well yeah, so I've heard... but it's loyal to the Imperium. Trust me."
The Dreadclaw and its accompanying Thunderhawks found themselves soon within the voice of space, traveling towards the living wreck of a ship that was the Judgement of Carrion. In due time, they would reach a gap in the vessel's exostructure that could only be assumed to be one of many hangars. As the vessels landed upon the creaking remains of the long derelict ship, the human fixed his helmet, slowly stepping out next to the Astartes, all of whom were helmed - or at the least, equipped with rebreathers, considering their body's tolerance to conditions no mortal man would survive. They would soon travel through a door at the end of the large chamber, a door that, when sealed behind them, allowed for the return of oxygen, helmets being taken off by all sans Martellus.
"Well, which way do we go?"
"Our last experience on board the Judgement of Carrion left us with little to go on regarding the vessel's interior structure." Martellus responded, servo arm at the ready. "Discovering a nearby console should provide us with at least partial access to the ship's systems. From there we can map the location of the ship's bridge, leading us to whoever managed to reactivate the wreck."
"Anyone able to tell what we've gotta expect? Those Chaos guys? The Orks? Dark Eldar?"
"You seem to have forgotten Genestealers, Inquisitor... Perhaps even other xenos - the Tau come to mind considering their propensity for reverse engineering technology, though how they would have managed to acquire this monument of technology is impossible to explain."
A chittering sound resonated down the hall of the hulk, almost a confirmation of Tarkus' theory - when it was suddenly cut off by a choked gasp and the sound of ichor spattering across an unseen deck. "DAT'LL TEACH YOU BUGSES 'BOUT DA MITE OV DA ORKS! WAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
"Shit..." He silently cursed, stepping forward with his Volkite Serpenta and eying for any forthcoming targets. "How did Orks bring this thing all the way over here?"
"There was a warband of Orks that plagued the Subsector." Cyrus quipped. "This must be where they took up residence after they were purged. Or it might be that group of Orks operating as mercenaries for the local Rogue Traders."
"Bluddflagg..." Tarkus said his name with disdain. "That Ork killed a squad of my men before a Rogue Trader explained we were not to be touched according to their contract. And he only wrought further havoc when the Inquisition came."
"Adrastia did admit to me that she made a deal with the Ork in order to contain the damage Kyras was wreaking in the subsector." Gabriel stepped forward, armor scarred and daemonhammer at the ready. "But I hear the deal worked out less than well for her - her pride was taken away, it seems."
Tarkus readied his storm bolter, his squad ready for action as Cyrus motioned for his scouts to stay back, sniper rifles ready to engage at long range. The millennial stayed behind Chapter Master Angelos, ready to provide short-range fire support in the event that he found himself engaged with an enemy.
A group of Orks soon moved to turn the corner - many of them wore basic cloth coverings with the skull and crossbones - a couple had hooks for hands or pegs for legs. Surprise was on the side of the Blood Ravens as they rushed forward, Gabriel slamming God-Splitter down upon the skull of a Nob, reducing it to naught but splinters. The Terminators soon unloaded with their storm bolters upon the others as the millennial once more vaporized large chunks of flesh from a pair of Slugga Boyz. Those that turned to engage soon found themselves decapitated by the potent rounds of the scouts' sniper rifles, and the small group of Orks were quickly dispatched. Immediately, Tarkus stepped forward to examine the markings of their crude clothing.
"Freebootaz..."