The Return of Rogal Dorn:
Part 4: The Prodigal Son Returns
He was already gone by the time they arrived at Fabius' cell. While Dorn had gone to the armory with Aleya, Cawl and Qvo-87 had gone to check on Fabius. The Spider was already gone and all that was left was a data-slate on the life support chair. And it was addressed to Cawl.
'To Belisarius Cawl,
I apologize for the deception, but this had to be done. I thank you for giving me this opportunity in fixing one of my few mistakes. When I first cloned my genesire, I worried that I had started it over again, the degeneration of my Legion again. I turned him over to Trazyn the Infinite because I saw the seeds of what turned the 3rd Legion into the degenerates and lunatics surfacing in him. Even without the Warp Taint in him, he was still the petulant fool that lead us all to ruin. It is amazing what hindsight can show us.
The time we worked together has been enlightening, but my time is up. I thank you for stalling my death, but this body has been dying for a while. I do not leave empty handed. The Alpha Legion has informed me that they have taken gene samples from The Phalanx that will aid me in my future endeavors. And that brings me to my final request: Do what you will with Urum. It is not the only place where my clone bodies reside. I had contingencies planned for eventualities such as invasion. I have followers spread around the Galaxy and when I die, my mind will be transplanted into one of those bodies. And I will continue to exist. So burn it to ash. My followers and Children will have found a way off it or to have saved my data and sent it out. The Grey Knights are limited to destruction. They cannot stop me or my Great Work. We are alike in that regard.
I enjoyed my time with you, Cawl. We could have been colleagues, but you made a mistake in not anticipating me as an ongoing threat. As long as my intellect exists, Fabius Bile is immortal. I was worried long ago that I only had a matter of centuries, even with my clone bodies. I was wrong. Soon, I shall be as close to a Primarch as possible. Thanks to Lord Vulkan's cells. The Alpha Legionnaires were not the only agents here. Since Lord Vulkan's cells were extracted, samples have been saved and preserved. My next body may be my last. Who knows? It may fail, but that is the essence of science. We question, research, hypothesize, experiment, observe, and we conclude. We try and try again. And I hope to see you again.
Farewell,
Chief Apothecary Fabius Bile
Cawl smiled underneath his mask. He had underestimated Fabius and perhaps he should have seen the Alpha Legion's involvement coming. But it was what it was. The Primarch was still alive and the experiment had been a success. Now it was just a matter of saving The Phalanx.
Grimaldus roared at the Traitor Marines as he rallied his brothers. "FORWARD, SONS OF DORN! KILL THE TRAITORS! SLAUGHTER THEM IN THE NAME OF THE GOD-EMPEROR!" The Black Templars fell upon the Traitors with Blade and Bolter and delivered the Emperor's vengeance to them. The fire of battle was in the Sons of Dorn and it drove them forward. The announcement over the Vox of the Primarch's return had ignited a true fire in them that had not been felt in centuries.
The Primarch lived. It was a miracle that they had all resigned themselves to never achieving. But Rogal Dorn, the Praetorian of Terra, lived and was fighting alongside his sons again. It was glorious.
Vulkan was happy. He was as happy as he had been when he had adopted N'Bella. For the first time in 10,000 years, he was fighting alongside Rogal Dorn. He and Rogal stood back to back as they fought with Hammer and Sword, facing against the Alpha Legion and their human agents. Brothers together once again. It was truly glorious.
"It is good to see you again, Rogal!" He crushed the skull of a human in the garb of the Astra Militarum and turned to blast an Alpha Legionnaire disguised as a member of the Executioners with his plasma pistol.
"You as well, Vulkan," Rogal said, decapitating a false Crimson Fist.
"Tell me: What do you remember?" A Black Templar impostor died by his hand.
"Everything," Rogal said as he bisected an Excoriator. "I remember everything. My childhood. The Great Crusade. The Heresy. And my death. I remember all of it." He turned to Vulkan and smiled. "I remember my brothers." He clapped a hand to Vulkan's shoulder. "I remember you." He turned to look upon the sight of his sons doing battle. "So many of them. My sons still live and they are here by my side. I could not be more proud."
As the fight in the hallway died down, Vulkan took a better look at Dorn. He looked younger than he had at the end of the Siege of Terra. By the time the Battle for Terra had ended, a glaze had settled over Rogal's eyes. The loss of the Emperor and Sanguinius had all but broken him. For all his preparations for defense of the Imperial Palace, he had failed to protect the one person that had mattered in the long term. The Praetorian had failed. It had aged him centuries. But now the spark had returned to his eyes, his skin looked renewed of wrinkles. He looked like a new man. He was a new man. He was reborn.
Thomsky had no idea what was happening. All across the ship, Astartes were fighting Astartes, like the legends of the Horus Heresy. And now some of the crew had gone insane as well. Filbern, who he had known for ten years, had gone insane and attacked him in his bunk with a knife. He had survived by turning the knife on Filbern and pushing it into his throat. He'd retreated to the one place he knew inside and out and felt truly safe in: The Engine Room. It was large enough so that there were plenty of hiding places so that he could wait this out.
Thomsky was not a warrior. He was an engineer first and foremost. He was strong and could tussle with the best of them, but he was not a soldier. He felt ashamed by his cowardice. There were so many braver men than he on this ship and he just wished he could prove himself just as good as them. Then he saw Lenore. He smiled to himself. He would go to her and pull her to safety. She was a good friend to him and if he could make sure she survived, then at least he could say he helped a friend this day. As he prepared to get up from his hiding spot, he noticed something off about her. The way she moved was stiff and determined and she was heading to the coolant cogitator. It wasn't the body language of someone who was caught unawares by an attack on their home base. It was the look of someone who had a mission to fulfill. He proceeded to get up from his hiding spot, but with caution.
The mission was all there was for Exodus. When the Alpha Legion needed a job done right and clean, Exodus was called in. With his Sniper Rifle, The Instrument, entire planetary governments had been brought into compliance with a single shot. Clean and efficient. That is how he did things. At least, that is how the previous Exoduses had done things. Like many in the Alpha Legion, he was not the first to hold the title. When one died, another was trained to take his place. The Alpha Legion was a many headed hydra. Two heads to replace the one that was lost. And he had a mission to fulfill.
The assignment was simple: Ensure The Phalanx survived. Autonomy was heavily encouraged in the agents of the Alpha Legion, but that did cause a problem. If Alpharius gave an order, the mission would be changed, no matter what. If something threatened the orders of Alpharius from being fulfilled, even if it was one of their own agents, then that threat had to be eliminated.
Exodus had been in hiding aboard The Phalanx for weeks before the new orders had come in. He had been previously ordered to watch Belisarius Cawl and eliminate him when the time came. But then the attack happened and he got a message from Alpharius himself that the plan had changed. He was to stop someone from destroying the ship, an agent that worked in the Engine Room. He accepted the order and moved to the Engine Room to find the saboteur.
When he arrived, he stuck to the shadows and observed. He saw he by the cogitator for the cooling system. A woman, pretty enough for a human, tall with brown hair and a muscular figure, was clearly preparing to sabotage the coolant tanks so that the engines would be taken offline. A smart enough tactic and one that had been done plenty of times before. The Phalanx would fall out of orbit and either crash into Luna or Terra, depending on its location and great damage would be done either way. But his mission was to stop her. He armed The Instrument so that it would not fire mass reactive rounds. No need to damage the equipment. One execution shot was all that was needed. Then he saw the human male.
The male looked rather worried. Apparently he knew the woman. Exodus couldn't quite hear them, but he could tell that the male was anxious. The female ignored him and pushed him away when he tried to grab her arm. Clearly the male could tell there was a problem because the next thing he did was tackle her away from the cogitator, the two of them wrestling on the ground.
Exodus zoomed in on the coolant cogitator. The system had been shut down and time was limited. He moved the Instrument to point it at the two humans. He sighed. Why did the male have to get involved? Why did he have to show more courage than was normal for his species? One damned human always had to be a hero to prove themselves. It frustrated him.
He waited for the agent to be clear as the two humans fought. Exodus had been told that compared to some of his predecessors, he was softer than was necessary for an assassin. He was not. He was practical. He stayed within mission parameters until it was absolutely necessary for more to die. If the male proved to be too much of a hindrance than he would die, but until that became necessary, only the female would die.
The problem was that if it took too long, they would all die and Exodus would have failed his mission. He could not let that happen. He breathed in and out and waited until the moment was right. He was a professional.
Thomsky could not believe this was the same Lenore he had known for years. She had been a good friend and a damn good engineer, but now she was trying to kill them all. The two of them were about evenly matched in strength, but clearly Lenore was trained in combat skills that an engineer was not supposed to possess. Then she was on top of him. He had fantasized about her at times, but not in a moment like this. She had her hands around his throat and her knees pinning his arms to the ground. He felt the air leaving his lungs. He tried to wriggle out, but he just couldn't do it. He had to survive. He had to stop her. Then he saw her head explode in a burst of blood and bone. He felt her grip fall from his throat and her headless body fall to the ground. He leaped up and ran to the cogitator. Just in time, he got the coolant systems back online before any serious damage could be done. He breathed a sigh of relief. He may not have been able to fight Lenore off, but he had saved the ship.
Thomsky turned around to see if he could find the person who had save his life, but he could see nothing. "Whoever you are, thank you," he called out.
Exodus was already making ready to leave The Phalanx. He would rendezvous with the team that had been sent to extract the Spider and leave. The ship would survive and he would go on to another mission. As he made it to the hanger area, he noted the bodies of Imperial Fists and humans strewn about the hanger. He did not see the Spider among them so that was a good sign. He spotted the Spider with his escort and approached them. One of them in the colors of the Imperial Fists, an Apothecary, pointed a bolt pistol at him. "Your mission," he asked.
"Damocles," Exodus responded. "Yours?"
The Apothecary lowered his pistol. "Decimus. Come, brother." Exodus gave a nod and sat on the shuttle next to the Spider. He noticed the Spider was nearing the end of his current life. He would be useful in what time he had left to the Alpha Legion. Alpharius needed him for something just as he needed The Phalanx intact. The Hydra had as many plans as he had heads.
It was hours after the attack and most of the infiltrators had been eliminated. The rest would be in hiding, biding their time. They would be found. The Phalanx was massive, but the Imperial Fists knew it better than anyone. None could hide for long.
Rogal Dorn stood before the assembled Imperial Fists and their successor Chapters. There were so many different colors and symbols. So many different Chapters since his time. He noted a few Companies made entirely up of the new Primaris Marines. He'd heard their names as "The Astral Knights" and "The Soul Drinkers" while others like the "Sons of the Phoenix" were entirely new creations. Chapters that had been wiped out in battle and had been revitalized thanks to the Primaris Project, Belisarius Cawl, and Roboute Guilliman. Guilliman... There were things the two of them had to clear up that had gone unfinished for 10,000 years. But that could wait. For now, he had to speak to his sons.
"My sons, I have returned! For 10,000 years, you have fought long and hard against the Forces of Chaos in my absence! I am proud of all of you! The Imperial Fists and their Brother Chapters held the line and fortified the Imperium against our enemies! Now the Galaxy has been ripped asunder in a similar fashion as it was during the Horus Heresy 10,000 years ago! But as my brothers have returned, so have I! Together, we will fight and hold the line as we have for 10,000 years! For the Emperor! For the Imperium! For Terra!"
Hundreds of fists clashed against ceramite as they all gave their answer. "FOR THE EMPEROR! FOR THE IMPERIUM! FOR TERRA! FOR DORN!" The resolve of the Sons of Dorn was clear. They would hold the line.
Later, Rogal and Vulkan stood before a viewing window that gave them a splendid view of Terra. "It has grown worse in the millennia since I died," he said with a solemn tone. "How has it survived?"
"By barely scraping by. It is amazing that any life can exist on Terra."
"By all rights it should have been rendered uninhabitable," Dorn said. "And the damage I did to it in fortifying it has not been reversed."
"You cannot blame yourself, Rogal," Vulkan said. "You did what you felt was necessary at the time."
"By fortifying the beauty that was the Imperial Palace, I undid was thousands of humans gave their lives to build. Now I hear that it is believed Father built it all with a flick of his 'godly' hand." He said "godly" as if it was a profanity. Rogal had been faithful to their father's dream of a secular human empire. This was anathema to him. "How did this happen? How did everything we fought for become undone? This was not what he wanted them to be."
Vulkan shook his head. "I do not know. But right now, despite my dislike of it, the Church is a key force in battling Chaos. Belief in Him to fight belief in Them." He dared not speak the name of the Four Gods that had all but caused the horrors of the Heresy. Not the horror of brother fighting brother, but the horror of Old Night returning anew to strike at humanity. "For now, they are a necessary evil. As are we." He put an arm around his brother. "I am glad to know it worked. And Cawl tells me that there are no imperfections in your genes."
"No, but there is something new in there." Dorn turned to Vulkan and looked him in the eye. "When I was regaining consciousness, I started recalling two childhoods. Yours and mine. Perhaps it's an after effect of your genes, but I remember your human father with the same clarity as I do my grandfather. I remember the heat of Nocturne as clearly as I do the ice of Inwit."
"I am sorry, Brother."
Dorn smiled. "Don't be. They are wonderful memories." They both turned to look back at Earth. At first glance, you would not think them to be related. One with onyx black skin and flaming red eyes while the other had white skin and snow white hair. But in that moment, their bearing showed their shared lineage as kin. "Your daughter is very brave," Rogal said at last. "In truth, I think it was her cries that gave me the push to break free of my tube."
"An uncle's instincts to protect his family. She is lucky to have an uncle such as you, Rogal."
"So what do we do now?"
Vulkan smiled. "I have plans, Rogal. I plan to remake Terra. To make it so any future generations can look up to the sky and not see clouds of smog blocking the sun and be born breathing fresh air. I plan to make it so that mankind can see the stars again and be filled with wonder instead of fear. And you are going to help me."
Rogal was surprised. "Me?"
"You are a builder, Rogal. Just as I am. An architect and a blacksmiter together can create wonders. Together, we will give back the sky to Terra. While our brothers save the Imperium, we will save Terra. You and I, together."
Rogal smiled. "I like the sound of that. It will take time. Years of planning alone to create something like what you describe."
"You are already planning it out in your head, aren't you?"
The Praetorian nodded. "As are you, I assume."
Vulkan's smile grew wider. "I am."
"I will be proud to work on this with you, Brother. But first... I need to find Guilliman. The two of us have some unfinished business." As he turned away, Vulkan put a hand on his shoulder.
"Do not start another war, Brother. Please."
Dorn did something Vulkan had not thought him capable of doing. He laughed. "I just want to speak. If it gets physical... then that is an unfortunate happenstance."
As Dorn walked away, Vulkan turned back to the view of Terra. So much had happened. The uprising, the escape of Fabius Bile, and the near destruction of The Phalanx. Dorn had personally commended the engineer who had prevented it, Thomsky was his name, and had asked him to join his retinue of engineers. Thomsky looked as if he was about to explode with fear and joy at that moment.
But what troubled him most was what had been stolen. According to Cawl, and having been confirmed, gene samples of the Sons of Dorn, Rogal, and himself had been stolen in the attack. Fabius was a genius and with what he could do with those samples frightened Vulkan to his core. "I found you once, Spider. I will do it again." He then switched on his Vox Communicator. "Inquisitor Erasmus Crowl, this is Regent Vulkan. Contact the Grey Knights and give them the clearance to declare Exterminatus on Urum. Wipe it out. Completely." He switched off the Vox and sighed. Once again, he was responsible for another world's death. But in this case, Urum had already been damned. It was tainted beyond any hope of a normal soul inhabiting it. It was better off dead. "I warned you, Bile. I warned you what would happen."
Then he remembered what Rogal had said about the shared memories. If Fabius planned to do what he thought he was going to with Vulkan's gene sample... then perhaps the Spider was in for a nasty surprise. "Be careful what you wish for, Fabius," Vulkan said with a smirk. "You just might get it."
Surrounded by his Gland Hounds and the Alpha Legion, Fabius was set down upon an operating table, blood pouring from his mouth and nose. "Prepare... the next body. And have Vulkan's cells prepared as well..." He coughed and more blood spurt out. It would not be immortality. He may still feel the pain as his body broke down and repaired itself, but he would still be alive long enough to continue his work. With Vulkan's cells integrated into his next clone body, he would be ready for whatever came next.
"I will... not die. Not completely. I will live... I will live... And I will perfect the Emperor's work."
Epilogue 1:
Blue and Gold
On board The Macragge's Honour, Roboute Guilliman prepared himself for the arrival of his elder brother. Since the days of the Great Crusade, many comparisons between him and Rogal Dorn had been made. Their combative style, their tactical minds, and their overall appearance. But deep down, Roboute knew they were complete opposites. They were similar in ways, being brothers and all, but they were different in many other ways. Their Chapters were a prime example of this. The Imperial Fists were stagecraft minded while the Ultramarines were infantry specialists. Rogal fought defensively while Roboute planned out offensive strategies. They were different. Blue and Gold.
As the Thunderhawk from The Phalanx touched down in The Macragge's Honour's hanger, Guilliman looked at his Council. Beside him were Uriel Ventris, Decimus Androdinus Felix, Chief Librarian Tigurius, and Cato Sicarius, decked out in full regalia to greet the Primarch of the Imperial Fists. They did not plan to embarrass their gene-sire and carried themselves with pride.
The Thunderhawk's ramp lowered and down came Rogal Dorn, followed by Chapter Masters Gregor Dessian and Pedro Kantor of the Imperial Fists and the Crimson Fists respectively. Behind them was High Marshal Helbrecht of the Black Templars. The two Primarchs regarded each other as their sons saluted one another.
"Roboute."
"Rogal."
It felt like an eternity before someone spoke, but when someone did, it was Rogal Dorn who did it with a smile. "So, do you still have a proper sparring cage here? I am out of practice and killing Alpha Legionnaires isn't the same as a proper fight."
Roboute smiled at this challenge. "I think I do. Though I would be open to getting us some refreshment. I can bet that you feel quite stiff after spending so long in that stasis tube."
Rogal's smile widened. "That sounds like someone is trying to get out of a fight, just as he tried to get out of the Heresy, if I recall correctly."
Roboute let the barb go, but decided that if Rogal wanted a fight, he would get one. "Very well. If you would follow me, brother."
Rogal nodded. "Lead on, Brother."
Epilogue 2:
At the same time the Primarchs of the Imperial Fists and the Ultramarines began their long overdue sparring match, across the Galaxy, someone else was awakening. Deep in the gigantic asteroid ship known as The Rock, home of the Dark Angels, a spark of life ignited in a stasis field containing the Primarch of the First Legion, Lion El'Jonson. For 10,000 years, the Lion had slept while his sons tended to him and the wounds he gained in battle with the First of the Fallen known as Luther. As his brothers began their return, the Lion began to stir. At first, it was a slight twitch of a finger. Then a flicker of an eyelid. A slight curl of a lip here. These were observed by his sons. Word was sent to Supreme Grand Master Azrael and Interrogator-Chaplain Asmodai who made haste to their father's side.
For days they had kept vigil over their Primarch, waiting and hoping that this was a sign of great things for the Chapter. That perhaps they would be able to begin their return to the glory days of their time as the First Legion. Even the Primarch's wounds had begun to close. It was a true miracle.
Then they heard it. It sounded like air escaping lungs that had not breathed in 10,000 years. But thanks to their enhanced hearing, they knew it to be a word. A single word drawn out from the lips of the Lion.
"Llllllluuuuuuuutttthhhheeerrrr..."
Author's Note: HOOOOOOOO BOYYYYYYY! IT IS FINALLY DONE! The story arc, not the fanfic. I am not gonna be done for a while. Unless I just lose interest, but hopefully I won't.
So... where to begin? Well, I think I should start by saying that I don't think I write fight scenes that well. It's really my biggest insecurity. I read and listen to these fantastic fight scenes in the Warhammer and Horus Heresy books, but I boil them down to the bare necessities of "Vulkan hit this" and "Rogal hit that". But as long as you guys and gals enjoy the stories, that's all that matters.
Next up is Exodus. Okay, there are so many characters from the Horus Heresy that didn't make it into the novels or I haven't seen much of like Narik Dreygur, an Iron Warrior who also defected back to the Imperium like Barabas Dantioch and joined Cassian Dracos of the Salamanders. Exodus is someone I first came across in the Horus Heresy Legions mobile game and he is one of my favorite Alpha Legion characters on design alone. I am not sure if he is in other books featuring the Alpha Legion, but damn he is cool. So I felt that rule of cool dictated that he should be in this. At first I was going to have the bit between Lenore and Thomsky be a full conversation and fight, but I felt that I wasn't gonna be able to pull it off so I thought "What if a sniper was observing this from a distance?". So Exodus delivered the execution shot. I think it turned out well, especially if it gets into the head of an enigma like Exodus.
Next, Fabius. I think I got the character down better than I did when I started. Fabius is a maniacal lunatic, but he is a smart maniacal lunatic who knows what he is doing and how to do it. As soon as I introduced the possibility of using Vulkan's cells to regenerate Rogal, I thought "Wait... what if Fabius decided he could use them?". So I do admit that the explanation of how the gene samples got stolen is weak, but I'll just chalk it up to... Alpha Legion did it. But yeah, Fabius is going to have a bit of Vulkan in him. Will he remain the same or will the Primarch of the Salamanders change Fabius in ways he never imagined possible?
Last but not least... Rogal and Vulkan. Here is where the seeds for Rogal and Vulkan's big project to make Terra a bearable craphole instead of an unbearable craphole is introduced and they begin their plan. I also have plans for a small bit where Dorn comes into contact with the Adeptus Sororitas as part of his interactions with the Church. Given how devoted a son he was to his father's ideals, I can imagine it won't be one he will enjoy.
The confrontation between Rogal and Roboute is one I had planned for a while. Blue and Gold, what can I say? Obviously, one of the first things those two would want to do is hash things out the old fashioned way as brothers do. Especially how they nearly went to war with one another over the creation of the Chapters.
The last bit with The Lion was something I thought I would throw in at the last minute. I don't think I'm gonna write a story where he returns to the fold since I think this set that up well enough. But yeah, in my timeline, that is the beginning of Lion El'Jonson's return to the world of the living.
I just wanna say that I am proud of this and how far I have come. When I started up on this site, I would start a project and then abandon it. I think I just never had the right motivation or passion for the works as I first thought I did. I would plan out the story, but never write it. But I planned this story out and I wrote it. I am proud of myself for that.
Thank you all and stay tuned for more. Going back to the main timeline with some small stories, with another dreamscape story for N'Bella. Maybe she'll meet Uncle Sang again.