Chapter Two


Leaving the company of the drake Queen was to be free from the wind, ice and the psychic pressure that made up her island above the clouds. I rested with my back to the smooth stone where I would cut the Monastery doors. My wounds still ached, the damage too ceramite and punctured metal still digging into my flesh.

The egg is in my hands, its rough surface scratching at the paint on my fingers. As much as I might loath the touch of another on my mind. I couldn't help the curiosity that rose from within me concerning the creature. Ridding myself of the thing was an impossible choice, begrudging acceptance would have to do.

Trying to understand the ununderstandable was a sure way into madness, the Librarians had told us, early in my days with the scouts. Better to trust in the Emperor and your blade, than that which you cannot know. Those words had only been compounded by experience.

I catch a few hours rest before the sun rises to beat at my eyelids. The corpse of the drake still lays on the stone, body stiff, mixed blood black.

Would I have been able to defeat one of the larger drakes? The question nags my warrior pride. My mind whirls with past experiences, judging just how much firepower it would take to end such a creature.

I poke a finger into one of the holes left in my chestplate. A protective layer of scabbing has long stopped any bleeding, the flesh knitting together from healing stims in my blood. Half a squad, atleast.

Light stretches off the horizon to reclaim all its brother had taken in the night. The sky is orange and red, clouds made neon yellow as the sun slips centimeter by centimeter over distant lands.

Their shadows retreat as warmth reaches out to envelope our world once more. I welcome its touch upon my bare skin, chasing away the cold that lingers there.

Across the vast forest below trees ripple as their leaves unfurl. For a dozen minutes the rolling hills of green shift and move, alive and walking if you stare long enough. A flock of white and red birds free themselves from the protection of the canopy and fly towards the sun, rising on the updrafts from the warming air.

As I pass the drakes corpse I hesitate, feeling it wrong that such a creature should lay here to rot, bones picked at by scavengers. But I cannot carry it with me, nor does my helmets vox reach the ship above. Like many things, its resolution will have to wait.

My journey down the mountain is a slow affair. Two days had already passed. I scold myself for the ease at which I assumed this journey would be complete. Unaware of the difficulty of foot travel or the climb at the mountain.

Going down, while carrying an egg in my hand only makes it take longer. I ease myself from handhold to handhold, welcoming the feeling of dirt and shrubbery under my boots once more. It falls before me in small rushes of tumbling earth.

The wind blow out before me, carrying with it the scent of the masters of the mountain. Wildlife flees in my wake, knowing the scent as soon as it reached their nostrils. As it was, I would crest a ridge to find the fields before me barren, the far off calls of the plains beasts rising in alarm, ground trampled in their fear. As the ground flattens my pace increases, microfiber bundles and geneforged muscle pounding in perfect synchronicity as I race across the land.

I hit the forest hours later, entering through the same thicket as I had left. With my helmet destroyed, and much of my armor's auto senses gone with it. I could still recall such simple information.

I followed my old footsteps back through the limited undergrowth, finding the imprints upon the earth where my boots had fallen. Here, only the insects cared not for the scent I carried, continuing in their cycles of death and life.

While I try to make good time, night again falls upon the land as I journey back towards the colony. Still I feel the wounds of my battle, the joints of my left shoulder grinding when I moved my arm at a wide angle.

I travel off my own path, hunting the uneven earth to seek out a place to rest away from the forest.

I find a cave long overgrown by moss and vines thick over the entrance. The air inside was humid, moisture dripping along the walls. A small stream of water ran along the stone, following ancient cracks and long cut grooves deeper into the earth.

I followed it, red and blue mushrooms that glowed dimly grew around a small pool of stagnant water. Small rodents had drank from it and died, now dissolved by the acid water and consumed by the fungus. Besides the death that surrounded the pool, it smells sweet.

I seated myself on a stone slate and placed the egg beside me, putting it from my mind.

Centering myself is a difficult task. The experience of the drake Queen has left me unsettled, uneasy for the task ahead. Creating a Chapter of Astartes was difficult enough. Doing it under the knowing gaze of a powerful creature was another. I sigh long and massage the sides of my skull with my fingers.

As if this task could have been anything but unusual in the extreme.

My power armor settles, its servos motionless as the hum from its powerpack fills the quiet space. I glance to the egg beside me and frown, how long will it take for the drake inside to hatch?

While I sit I unlock my helmet from my waist and glance over the grey headpiece. It is damaged heavily, the armor around the eyepiece is shattered, a thin crack running up around the helm all the way to the back, where another fang had cracked the ceramite. Its integrity is gone, useless without repairs. Repairs I would have to seek out from the Mechanicus onboard the Emperor's Light.

My idle thoughts are shattered by the crack of eggshells. I look at the creature, a spiderwork fracture bulging before retracting. A muted squeak from inside, the membrane stretches again, further this time.

I stared for a few seconds before my helmet was relocked and my attention upon the egg.

It made more noise, the egg rocking as the small drake inside thrashed and fought to be free. I did not help it, knowing enough about animals that birthed their young from shells to know this was an important step in its development. For a few minutes more it struggles, before finally it cracks the shell and slides out onto the cold stone, a small squeak of victory echoing about the chamber.

It was covered in its birthing fluid, slimy and slipping on the rocks as its eyes dilated to the low light. Our eyes met, Astartes and drake, and I felt something in the back of my mind, another soul molding itself to my own. I should have been disgusted, angry, but only the soft comfort of companionship gripped my hearts.

It blinked and the moment of serene passes. Emotions and glimpses not my own flashed through my mind. It was confused, but felt safe in my presence. Another squeak and with shaking legs it bumps into my armor. Only fifty centimeters long. Tiny compared to the larger reptiles far above us.

I gingerly placed a hand under its belly and lifted it, clearing away the slime and setting it on my leg, moving my blades as I did so. The drake looked up at me with wide eyes, gazing into my face as thoughts and emotions alien in their origin tickled the back of my mind.

I did not know how I felt about such a thing being forced upon me, but as its eyes dropped and it yawns widely, I could not find the will to refuse it. I sheathed my blades and rested the small animal in the crook of my arm, head rested in my palm, drawing my knife and heading to the cave wall.

There I craved my Chapter symbol into the rock, a drake head, seen from the side, much like the Salamanders, with a sword behind the sketching. It was crude, and I had never been an artist, but I didn't care, it would be a symbol of my agreement with the drake Queen, and my bond with this small creature.

I have a Chapter name, a Chapter symbol. I think upon them for an hour, pondering what I want them to mean, to represent. Least I fail my duty in these early years. I know it will fall upon my shoulders to set the identity of the Iron Drakes.

What kind of men would I rise up? Stalwart defenders like the Imperial Fists? Noble warriors as Ultramar creates or hunters as those of the White Scars and Space Wolves.

My Chapters identity wrestles with me as the hours pass by. The chronometer I set to the ship's time tells me of the coming morning, before the rays stretch their faint fingers into the cave.

Now covered in the birthing stench and drake smell, I attract insects in their dozens. Animals scatter as the scent carries through the woods, long winged dragonflies buzzed around my head, landing on my drake.

He needs a name, I realize. Through our small link, curiosity bubbles, eyes are wide, nostrils sucking greedy from the air to taste all it has to offer. I can feel his excitement, every sight and smell is new to him.

Lacking in inspiration gifted to my Blood Angel cousins, I look to the void forest around us and name him.

"Despair." The drake tilts head sideways and looks backwards at me.

"For the terror you will cause when we stalk the battlefields of the Imperium together." The drake squeaked and rose shakally from where it laid on my gauntlet, rising in its small limbs and looking out. He attempts a roar, but it came out a screech. The shrill sound carries out among the forest, dying as it was suffocated by the woods.

I again set my boots towards the colony, speaking to my new companion of the Imperium as I walked. I told him of the Emperor, the Great Crusade and the millenia that have passed since then. I tell him of the Primarch's, of Space Marines, the Imperial Guard.

The militant arm of the Imperium has been my entire life, and it is these matters I am most learned. He tries to understand, but much of it is complex and his mind too young.

As the sun slowly crawls overhead the sunlight piercing sporadically through large leaves. As it shines upon my back I turn my stories to those of my own life. Battles against foes, scenes of grandeur. When I had witnessed an entire Titan Legion walk from the titanic gates of a Forge-world. Seeing the ancient Battle Barge of the Space Wolves Allfather's Honour, hanging in the black alongside a hundred other warships. Fighting inside an Eldar Craftworld. The churches and temples constructed upon the Imperiums Cardinal-worlds. Their spires and worship halls stretch out and up for kilometers of stone and marble. A statue of the Emperor a thousand meters tall, carved with love and adoration. The names of a million fallen guardsman inscribed upon wide plaques of steel covered in thin gold.

Two days of this pass, our cave becoming a small abode while I organized my thoughts about my new companion. The idea of removing him from myself had already slithered out of my thoughts, sneaking under the towering walls of conviction from fresh cracks in the mortar.

I get to know Despair. His mind categorized those creatures we see as food or foe. He is territorial, violent. He hisses at the scent of another creature hovering around our cave or snapping at insects that fly too close.

His world, new and fresh as it is, is dominated by long held instincts and rules of the forest. I put no mind to finding him food, his, soul, our bond, would stretch and thin as he would leave our cave and return, mouth full of fur, dragging a mammal larger than he.

With short order clumps of hair and blood coated his scales, the corpse picked clean, bones cracked. He would lay in the column of light that slipped inside the cave and licked himself clean, his barbed tongue scraping scales.

Five days after leaving the colony walls with little warning, I return with equal announcement. Watchers upon the walls squint as I break the tree line, unclear of what they see, a trick of the shadows. They call for the gates to be opened, well worn and mostly maintained laspistols held in their hands.

Sargent Munzn is one of the first to greet me, along with his report of the defenses and equipment levels. They are less than satisfactory, but I thank him for his work and ask that he continues to see to them

A small crowd gathers. Their half circle mass before me is riddled with fearful whispers and shyly pointed fingers. They looked at the damage upon my Power Armor, the bite and claw marks that will take days to repair.

It scared them, they knew the drakes to be powerful things, but so were Astartes. While such thoughts had not been my concern before, I wondered what would happen if they saw me weaker than the creatures of their world. Would these people give their sons to me? If I was not seen as a mythic warrior from beyond the stars?

"I have done battle with the creatures that you fear and spoken to their master. The drakes will hunt you no more." The crowd went quiet. For thirty years they had lived in fear of the creatures of the mountains. Loved ones, friends.

Who was I to know the struggles they had weathered, what horrors, what moments of triumph and defeat had brought these few hundred people together over three decades of life upon this world.

So I said nothing as they cheered, laughed and cried. One man, flesh inked with Ecclesiarchical symbols, knelt and raised his hands, declaring loudly to the heavens.

"The God-Emperor truly does answer prayer. He has sent us his champion to deliver us from the beasts upon the mountain. He protects!" His sentiment was quick to be picked up by the others. Many mumbling or even calling out in thanks to him on Terra.

The moment of holy revelry, which I also ignored, was shattered as Despair moved. The drake had rested between my head and powerpack, curled up and hidden from the masses.

Like a pendulum on the backswing their elation was quick to turn. Without the oppressive weight of fear their old wounds called for satisfaction, revenge. Like wildfire the hate spread, many rising their voices from the back, confusion stirring the pot.

"Enough." I growled. The crowd fell silent, the din of their racket fading to the wind.

"This drake is my companion. He has been given to me as a sign of the pact between the Queen and I. As long as one of them stands with a member of my Chapter, your people will be safe." A horde of eyes looked upon Despair in only contained anger.

From a corner of my eye I see Sargent Munzn shift, his squad easing themselves into something more like a firing line. The people begin to disperse, their hero having returned with a monster.

From within the crowd Eric comes. Hesitant, eyes flickering to the left where Despair's scaled head peaks. I can see mortal emotions rising in him, a minor flexing of the hands, the face of wife's killer now riding upon my back. But he is a soldier, and was once a ranking member of the Imperial Guard. He disciplines himself by the time he is standing before me.

"Welcome back my lord. Praise the Emperor you've returned to us alive." He too tracks the bite marks of my damaged pride.

"Did their Queen not enjoy your visit?" I shake my head, showing him my broken helmet.

"If the Queen had wanted me dead, I am in doubt there is much I could have done." Its psychic power alone was enough to break a man.

"I am glad you could come to such an arrangement my lord. It will be good to be able to expand again in the coming years." I look to the heavens, knowing the mighty ship that lies above us might be my only hope.

"Not years Eric, months. I will soon be departing again for nearby worlds to make pacts with the Governors there. Food, materials and people, to build up our city." It was a bold plan, but without the assistance of others, my growth here would be a drop by drop filling of the cup. I need others to flood it, so that I might protect theirs later.

"You are bringing in new colonists my lord?" There was nervousness in Eric's voice. It took me a moment of consideration to understand why. He was fearful of being replaced. I removed such fears.

"I will not forget the long years you and your people have suffered to make it this far. You and all those here will be rewarded for your efforts. While I am gone, make a list of every family name here. These will go down in history as the founders."

Eric smiled at this, a legacy for them to hold to. A bit of light entered his eyes. Hope, long extinguished.

"I will see it done my lord. We can begin building homes for them right away. Help them feel welcome. It will be nice to get some fresh faces around here." From our left an almost equally aged mortal marches towards us. He too has an Imperial Guard tattooed on his face, standing with his back straight, face clean shaved and wrinkled by a young life lived hard. His voice is rough, almost raspy from time spent bellowing orders over the boom of cannons.

"My name is Sosa Igguda, I lead the militia on this planet." A few dozen souls stand beside him, worn and used laspistols hanging from their belts.

"I didn't get the chance to meet you before you left the colony, out on patrol at the time. I wanted to introduce myself." The man offered me his hand and I gently shook it.

"It is a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you to build a strong force to protect the people who will live here." Sosa grinned.

"I am as well my lord. I was hoping I could ask that, in your travels, if you could secure proper weapons for those of us here to defend ourselves with." He motioned to the worn lasgun that was slung across his back.

"These have been maintained to the best of our ability, but there are no Tech-priests here, and more and more are falling into disrepair every year." I was impressed they had kept such weapons working for as long as they had without access to proper tools.

"I will make it a priority, you will have fresh lasguns and weapons to defend the colony with." The man nodded his thanks and I walked for my thunderhawk, a long trip ahead of me and many words to visit.

But while I had been gone the Emperor's Light had not been idle. Building materials, medical supplies, leisure items to be bartertered between landing crews and the colonists.

I could see them even now. The members of the crew of the Strike Cruiser were like a fantasy to the people of the colony. I had come with soldiers who had duties to tend too with only so much time for leisure. The work crews, unpiling boxes from landers, had plenty of time to gossip away from the eyes of taskmasters.

The stories they traded, legends of the stars beyond, myths of the lands here. Items swapped hands as goods of the crew were traded for trinkets of the colony. I could smell the brewing of recaff, a stench of tobacco, the burn of cheap liquor.

The thunderhawk crew sat on the open side doors and inside the bay of the ship, all of them standing and saluting as I approached. Boots thudding upon the metal I stopped before them, pleased to see them well.

"We are headed back to the Light." David looked past me in confusion at Despair, wide eyed at the metal shell that encased us.

He and his men stared only for a second before they went for their stations. I eased myself into a seat, wincing as my flesh moves and stretches with the motion. A small dribble of fresh ichor joins the dried blood that already soaks my suit.

The idle shaking of the cage grows as massive turbines begin to spin. It rattles the metal in my flesh.

Despair squeaks in my ear, his eyes near to mine. I had felt pain since he had woken, but it had been ignorable.

"I'm fine." I tell him, and I am. I stop my armor from injecting pain numbing narcotics with a thought command. My armor spirit warns me against it, but I ignore it and enact order.

I feel my pain fading, and for a moment consider that my armor has gone against me. Then I see Despair looking me, pulling my pain from me through our bond.

It makes him shake, sharing the burden. His body is small, his mind unknowing of pain. He stopped after only a few seconds, staggering as the craft lifts, the engines roaring.

"It is not needed, but thank you." I tell him, replacing him to the protection behind my head as the craft climbs higher, the weight upon us building as we picked up speed.

The Emperor's Light hangs in orbit, a lone sentinel over a cradled world. It might be alone, yet it was one of the mightiest vessels that an Astartes Chapter could field. Beside the honored and venerated Battle Barges built millennia ago.

Despair squeaked in fear at the feeling of weightlessness engulfing him, claws holding onto my powerpack. His fear slips along the bond we shared. I reach up and his claws secure a place around my arm. I myself have magnetized my boots, legs locked.

The grand adamantium doors of the hanger opened, shields cracking to ensure those inside survived the raw space. The thunderhawk entered slowly, the pilot turning the craft inside the hanger, an impressive maneuver, so that the crews would not have to hoist the massive machine on chains and pulleys to make it ready for flight again.

It was an annoyance that had struck me for many years. Some ships had hangers that ran the width of the deck, allowing landing and flight without turning around. There were such hangers on a designated level below, but it held the fury interceptor squadrons and other voidcraft, not thunderhawks.

While most Astartes vessels would hold interceptors suited to use by Techmarines, the human crew that had called this ship home had seen such changes enacted.

I give a nod of thanks for the smooth landing to the pilots before leaving. Already work crews and heavy lumbering servitors are hauling fuel pipes for its greedy tanks. Magnetic clamps are lowed to the ceiling so that the bottom can be inspected.

I sent a vox ahead of me through the ship relays, telling Alexander of my plans and to stop flights to the surface. By days end, we will be leaving Tarth. As well as to draw up local star charts on the holotable.

The ship busts as it readies itself for flight once more. Onboard tracks are loaded and supplies grinds up and down the ship in dark passages. Crew report to stations, leaving card games, drink and sleep behind as duty calls.

In the lower decks task masters are putting worker gangs into motion. In the Enginarium the meager Tech-priests onboard will begin their rites, slowly grinding the cranks and pressing cogitator runes to the tempo of binary chanting.

I take a less direct route to the bridge. It will take time for the pilots to return, for the ship to be made ready after days of rest. I want the crew to see me, to know my face and the damage upon my armor. Stories will spread, the whole ship will know that their Astartes master returned harmed.

Tarth is dangerous, they will murmur, whisper among the markets and cafeterias of lower decks. When the crew meet and gossip with those of other worlds, they will tell their stories.

Tarth is dangerous, but so its master, so are its Marines.

I retreat first to my arming chamber, removing the damaged plate and letting them hang. Blood drips upon the cold floor. Reflecting the light of dim lumens and a dozen flickering bodysuit is next, dried ichor pulling at hair and skin.

While my armor is removed, Despair adventures. He gazes questioningly at the candles, running to safety as he knocks one over, wax spilling to the floor.

I walk to the sanitation room, a brightly lit place with both stiff and metal brushes. I set my feet into the water and thumb the button for activation. I'm blasted with it, tuning the temperature to above human levels.

Red spins lazy in the standing pool, spiraling as it disappears down a wide mouthed drain. A sigh of comfort leaves my lips, muscles relaxing and flesh returning to proper form. I sink myself into the steam, laying myself into the pool and enjoy the moment of absolute peace.

It is shattered as Despair leaps upon me.

After I am dry, I clothe myself in a tunic, place my bolt pistol and blade on my belt to make for the bridge. The mortal's eyes are again drawn. They are not used to seeing me outside of armor.

It is this way I arrive upon the bridge, the triple doors grinding apart as they read, identify, and then accept my signature.

The grinding hum of cogitators and low mutterings filled my ears. High above on his throne, Alexander stands and walks towards the grand central holotable, the ship rumbles as we leave the planet's gravity field behind. Tarth was not the only world in this system. Three others hung in orbit around the sun, an untold amount of asteroids and some far flung moons that slowly orbited the solar system. Upon my return, I would order those celestial bodies scouted, no enemies would lurk hidden from my gaze.

"Welcome back aboard my lord." Alexander says as I join him before the display, his gaze flickering to Despair on my shoulder, but like everybody else, he says nothing. The table zooms out from the system of Tarth, a map of the surrounded galaxy blooming into life. Small runes indicating other planets within our warp drives range.

"Where to first." I ponder, gazing at the map, looking at the bits of information that was within the ship's repositories about each world. I had no way of knowing if such information was still accurate.

Such were the ways of the Imperium.

I must choose carefully, not wanting to be gone from Tarth long. I have no way of knowing if those worlds would lend me aid, or what kind of price they would ask for their assistance. Planetary Governors were not kind fellows. They achieved their with power and maintained it with power, trading was a brutal affair, each world trying to suck the other dry and bring more wealth to their own coffers. To ensure Tarth's growth, I would do the same.

"An Agri-world first I think, the people there will be hardy and a source of food for when Tarth grows large will need to be secured." If possible I would like Tarth to be self-sufficient with its production of food stocks. The warp being a fickle thing, but it would be a resource to allow for more industrial and economic output.

Alexander nods his agreement, the routes calculated and sent to the Navigator, the Strike Cruiser blasting towards the edge of the system.

"Was your venture to the surface successful my lord?" My Captain asks after a dozen beats of silence. It does not take me long to find an answer.

"I believe so. The colony is stable and willing to cooperate, I have found a place to build the home of my brothers."

"You are without your armor?"

"The place I chose was not without its guardians. But I came to an understanding with their Queen." Alexander's face morphed into confusion.

"A Queen? We did scan a great many life signatures upon the planet. Did you meet with a human kingdom away from the colony?"

"No, a Queen of a different kind. But perhaps the strongest I have ever had the displeasure of meeting."


While the realspace engines rumbled I traveled to the stern of the vessel, seeking out the red robed attendants who called it home.

Many were the maintenance bays and small manufactorums scattered through the middle decks. Each would attend a section of the vessel, seeing to the fabrication of items needed onboard the ship, as well as nutrient recyclers and water purification systems. All of these things were overseen by the Tech-adepts of the Mechanicus, but none would be knowledgeable enough to assist me.

I learn Octavian resides in a chamber two decks above the Enginarium, shown the way by gaunt faced menials. I am reminded, here among the engine decks, that I am simply the commander of this vessel. I do not make it run.

With the gurgling of pipes and thrumming of billions of volts of electricity all around me I venture towards Octavian's chambers. The lumens are bright, the warning symbols of toxic waste and high voltage currents have been renewed. It is almost clean, besides the bits of dust that collect upon the high metal stanchions. That was not rattled off by the engines growling like chained beasts.

With soft soled boots I pass others who thud upon the ground on iron legs. I come upon the door they told me the Tech-priest was beyond. Its dull skull faced emblem staring at me, demanding to know why I would dare walk upon these hallways. The Cog, the symbol of the Mechanicus.

I spared a glance around the small entry to his chambers, the symbol is everywhere, stamped on every piece of metal that came out of their Forge-worlds.

"Thirty one seconds Chapter Master, I am in the middle of an examination." Comes from a small speaker above the door. It is more human than I would have expected, only touched by the flat drone of speaking binary every day.

I wait, eyeing the cog faced door again with a new scrutiny as I see something flicker on the edges of my sight. I hold up a hand centimeters from the door. A faint tingling sensation touches the edges of my fingertips,.

It seemed the Tech-priest was not one to let visitors into his home uninvited. I wonder if I could ask him for similar protection for my own.

The cog rotated ninety degrees, a series of dull thuds as the bolts of steel holding the door shut slip open, the Tech-priest standing tall on the other side. Red robes of tight woven fabric lay limply over bulky flesh. Mechadendrites dripping in fresh sanitation fluid swing lazy above him, scattering droplets across his head.

"Chapter Master. I am honored to receive a visit." His not quite human eyes expand and contract rapidly.

"You are without your armor. I predict you have come seeking repairs to your battle plate?" His voice smoothens the more he speaks, remembering how Imperial gothic should sound.

"You are correct. My helmet, torso armor and powerpack have been damaged and need repairs." His hands, which had remained clasped together in front of him, shifted under the red cloth.

"Such damage, your enemy must have been great." There is no mockery in his voice. Only controlled excitement. I feel a touch of warryness come over me, missing the grumpy Techmarines of my past for only a moment. If Octavion somehow witnessed my discomfort, he did not comment.

"Tarth has its share of threats, but I hope this one to be a thing turned against our enemies in the future." Despair stretched from his perch upon my back, laying across thickly muscled shoulders in practiced ease.

Octavian's eyes flickered to him with the movement, eyes again rapidly expanding, saving pictures for later study.

"I will work whatever repairs I can upon your blessed battle plate. It is already being collected and brought here." He stills for a moment, left eye unfocusing.

"A yes, they have it now. I must summon my most knowledgeable acolytes, they will be exalted to work upon your armor." The fact the Tech-priest saw no error in breaching my chambers was not lost upon me, but I resolved to pick my battles.

"My thanks, but that is not the only reason for my visit." Octavian's mostly organic face shifts out of curiosity. I study it for a moment, seeing the way the flesh stretches over his bones. Except they are not bones, and the flesh of his face fake.

"This, new home of ours, Tarth. It has nothing in the way of a Mechanicus Onclave upon its surface. No industrial output, no production. This ship is your home, but if I was to offer you a different position, one as this world's leading Tech-priest. Would you refuse?"

Octavian's fake flesh fell into a frown, his entire body going still for exactly two seconds.

"I would not." He answers, mechadendrites twitching slightly above him. For a moment he considers me differently, a question flashing within those created eyes. But then it's gone, and whatever could have passed between us lost.

"Good, then until then I ask you to ready yourself for a change in occupation. I'm sure Alexander will be sad to see his ship weaker for it." Octavian shook his head, a ghost of a grin upon his face.

"I have long since trained the others to conduct the maintenance and duties of the ship. I spend much of my time in private research." I raise an eyebrow at that and feel my own lips pulled at their edges.

Not your everyday Tech-priest perhaps.

For the remainder of the day I speak with him upon construction projects and roads of possible development. I remind him that Tarth is a world of great beautify, and I will seek to keep it that way. He has his own opinions, and many must be subdued, but soon we begin discussion upon one of the moons that orbit my world.

"This orbital." He points to the projector that shows us Tarth, along with its moons. We stand in the center of a small circular chamber. It is a strategium of kinds, with heavy wire cables fit snugly along the walls, held in place by steel brackets, our face lit by the green glow of the table.

At his prompting the moon shifts its holographic display, becoming riddled with structures, smoke stacks, highways and manufactorums.

"Should you seek to keep your world, beautiful," He says as if he does not understand its meaning when aligned with nature. "Then perhaps you might see one of your orbitals changed."

I peered at the moon. It was the second to Tarth, a possibly hospitable rock that had yet to properly explored. It was also the largest of the moons.

"A Forge-moon?" I ask him, to which he nodded.

"Your world is primitive, it will be dozens of years before you can host a population large enough for manufacturing in any reasonable sum." The moon stops its transformation under my eyes, a place fully consumed with metal, billowing black smoke that suffocated the small world in an artificial haze that obscured it from vision.

"But with this." He started to display numbers then, output and input statistics, how many menials and servitors would be needed to run the forges he planned to build.

"In one hundred and sixty seven years and only a predicted fifty thousand worker deaths, not including natural causes, I could give you the equal of any manufactorum upon a lesser Forge-world." The ground plans went deeper, the spires higher. Defense batteries and lasers watched the skies, waiting for targets from sensory banks and spires dotted across the world.

"Not just a Forge-moon, but a bastion." Octavian nodded.

"In many places in Imperial records Space Marine Chapter are often assaulted a few times in their great histories. Often they prevail, sometimes they do not. This deep into the east, far from the core, we are in danger. Our probability to suffer Xenos or traitor assault is seventeen point seven seven percent chance greater than other Imperial worlds."

"Is that against a million worlds? Or some other odds?" Octavian stopped and started to think. The whirling click behind his gaze growing louder as his eyes went flat. Six seconds later, he had an answer for me.

"Based upon all available data at this moment, we are thirty seven point six four percent less likely to receive attack over Agri-worlds. Fifteen point six one percent over Hive-worlds. Thirty point four three percent less than Fortress-worlds. Eighteen point-." I held up a hand and his voicebox cut, leaving only the thrumming table to fill the room.

"Conclusion. Yes, we hold greater chances to be attacked than other worlds while your Chapter grows in strength. A good stronghold is often the deciding factor between defeat and victory, as shown in over one thousand defence records pulled from previously destroyed defensive locations of all kinds. It is paramount that this system be the best achievable."

Like small black snakes a dozen wires retracted back into his open hand, sinking below the skin and coiling around his metal bones. The holotable went dimmer, no longer under his manipulation.

"Then we knew to be prepared. I will lean heavy upon you Octavian, as I do all the crew. I hope that faith will be rewarded."

The Tech-priest again folded his hands together and to my surprise, held a small smile upon his face.

It was unnatural, forced, not at all the natural impulse to mankind's joy.

"I will not fail, Chapter Master. The Omnissiah has brought us together, it is his will that we now cooperate at full capacity."

Our conversation soon dwindled, those matters of lesser import quickly handled. When I left, the metal shut without ceremony, the energy field resuming its guardian stance. I journeyed my way back up the ship's spine, mind churning from my meeting.

Octavian was no regular Tech-priest. Of that I was now sure.


Only hours before the ship was set for warp translation, I hear the thudding of wood outside my chamber door. I shut the book I was writing in, set my quill back to its inkpot and rise from my chair. My armor would still be days in repairing.

With Despair around my shoulders I open the door. On the other side an Imperial priest stood. His robes white and red, pure and sacrificial, neck bent from the chain of iron he wore around his neck, attached to an Imperial Aquila against his chest. No rings adorned his fingers, no tall hat covered his balding scalp. The staff he carried was of worn wood and plain. His feet covered only in basic cloth wrappings, his hands worn upon the edges from turning the pages of scripture. He bows low, softly forming an Aquila before speaking.

"Lord Astartes, Angel of Death, warrior of our Immortal Emperor." He rises and looks into my gaze without fear, without doubt.

"I have come to speak to you about matters I have heard from some of my fellows. I am Benanat Orthia, Chief Confessor for this ship. We met briefly long ago." I nod, recalling him among the officers upon my arrival.

"I recall. Though we have not yet had the chance to speak." He smiles, unoffended that during our many months of travel I had not sought him out.

"From the crew those of the priesthood aboard have heard that there is no priest to lead the flock of Tarth. Is this true?"

"It is." I say, watching as genuine sorrow fills his eyes.

"That is the most unfortunate of news. I mourn that they have been without the guiding hand of the Emperor for all this time. I will personally descend to the surface and see to their souls. All sheep must return to the flock."

A low grinding drone filled the hallway after his words, some colossal machinery moving within the vessel. Each of us knew the others disposition towards our Emperor. Few Space Marines saw him as a deity. A dozen heartbeats passed. He does not look away from my stare.

"I am sure they will be thankful for the guidance. I too have read the script of many Cardinals and Ecclesiarch over the many millennium. They praise a life of devotion, of sacrifice and duty. These are things we can agree upon. But we have both seen the churches lined with gold."

A great sorrow overcame him, eyes falling to the floor, leaning heavy on his staff. He gave a few slow nods, voice filled with mourning.

"I have seen them. It is the greatest pity that those so enveloped in his light can be so blind to the troubles of their flock." He breathed deep, steadying himself before tapping his staff once upon the ground and raised his shoulders, lips pulling back in a pure smile.

"But I am not those men my lord. I seek only his gifts, and to guide his flock into his awaiting arms. I swear upon my very soul, upon our Immortal Emperor."

Besides his words I did not shift my piercing gaze, did not change my stance, did not welcome him into my chambers for a further discussion. I had seen too many cities burned under the hand of religious zealotry for such a thing. Coals of long smothered injustices stirred in my stomach, rage buried deep at the orders of a Chaplain long dead.

"Build your church priest. But I will be watching."

"He watches me Chapter Master. I will not fail him in this duty. May the Emperor watch over you in your battles." He turned to leave, again thudding down the lumen lighted hallway and back to his tower of worship.

As the ship sailed through the void his voice came across the vox speakers upon the ship. He lead the crew in a slow hymn to the Emperor, then a sermon for our souls.

The claxons wailed, the blessed adamantium shutters covered the windows to guard the crew from the horrors awaiting us. The geller fields were stoked to full potency, its chained psykers dreams put to purpose, the Warp-engines blessed and sanctified. Upon the ship's tallest spire, the Navigator uncovers his third eye, attendants fleeing from his mutation.

Only then are gates of hell wrenched open, the Emperor's Light vanishing into its maelstrom.


A single candle, burned low, its wax pooling around the half bowl at its base, wobbled as Despair leapt upon the table. He went for the hand with the quill, flowing across blank pages in gothic script. I intercepted him with the other, small scratches and puncture marks already marking the skin. His small fangs sunk deep into the meat of my palm as he shook furiously, all while I kept his claws at bay with my other fingers.

The pain was minor, ignorable as he released his jaws, crouching low and squinting at his foe. The blood was already thickening, little dribbling onto the table below.

"You won't be able to play like this forever." I tell him, again defending myself from his pounce. When my armor was repaired, I would slip on a gauntlet to ease the burden.

But I had no intention of blunting my companions violent tendencies. He would need his instincts honed, experience gained. The fingers that pinned him now would one day be machines of war and soldiers of my equal.

His head titled as the thoughts slipped across our bond. He was curious, unable to ask questions but, desires, memories, passed between us. I looked deep into his grey eyes, pondering what it meant. I wished I could draw from the knowledge of the Librarians in this moment. I knew little of the warp or psychic abilities, as it should be.

I resumed my writing as Despair picked through the memories of battles. He might not understand what he was seeing, but he could understand the power there. The teeth rattling boom of a Titan cannon, the roar of Earthshakers, pop of autogun fire. What these weapons did to a man was easy to see.

I pondered back to my combat against the drake of the mountain. Pressing at the smooth plates of Despair's chest. His small claws cutting flesh as he resumed our game.

The scales flexed under my pressure, and I released a moment later. It seemed they hardened with age. I made another note in my writing.

"Enough. Now is not time to play" I said as Despair continued to gnaw on the hand. His fangs slipped the skin and sunk deeper, stopping against bone.

"Enough Despair. You are hurting me." His jaws opened and he plopped to his haunches. I let the pain I felt in my hand through our bond. His nose wrinkles and he backs away, trying to escape the feeling.

"When you bite or claw others you cause them pain. We do not harm our allies. We do not cause them pain." He tried to retreat from the feeling but I pressed it upon him, needing the lesson to sink within him. A touch of guilt slid over him, and I stopped.

"We protect those we call brothers, and keep them from pain. Sacrifice is needed, but not without cause, without purpose." His head tilted and lowered until it rested between his claws. He did comprehend, not fully, but he was young, still a baby by many standards. I run a hand down his head and scales, feeling the small horns growing upon his head. He leans into the touch, arching like a cat as scratch his side.

Peace returns to the chamber and I resume my work, trying to ponder what I could barter for the resources I would need. I fill my lungs and exhale heavily, rising and walking across the floor to a small cupboard to obtain a new stick of wax.

The shadows in the room are heavy, the lumens low, this area of the ship in its resting period. Bell chimes signaling shift changes, preserved the passage of time aboard the vessel, something for the lower crews to latch onto when things got rough.

Traveling in the warp always set my teeth on edge. I was one allowed to know of the entities that existed beyond the veil, of their nature, how to slay them. I no longer trusted shadows, and turned the lumens in my room brighter.


Our journey through the void passed quickly and without incident, a few crewmen and indentured slaves on the lowest decks had been purged because of mad ramblings, but such was a common thing and hardly worth of notice.

Another single alarm sounded out as we left the grips of the warp, howling neverborn that had been unable to rip the ship asunder raging as we left their domain. On the bridge, I looked at the holotable, filled with an image of a world, data from the ship's powerful sensor array scrolling past. There were a few small ships in orbit, small defense stations only good for discouraging pirates hanging limply, half were powered down, all in disrepair. I shared a glance with Alexander. That was not a good start.

There was one ship that exceeded our own bulk. A single Universe Class Mass Conveyor. Its engines burned a hundred thousand kilometers out, pulling away to the Mandavil point. A databurst was shared between the ships, its identification marking it as Imperium's Fortune.

While I should have been indifferent, I saw the titanic ship as anything but a boon. If here to collect a tithe, then the Governor could be unhappy being forced to give so much away. If it was a Merchant Captain then he could be rich, sitting on a pile of coins and not see the benefit Astartes protection could bring. I let loose a silent sigh and reevaluation my plan. The communications officer raised his head from his station and spoke.

"We are receiving transmissions from the planet my lord, they are asking for our identification codes." Alexander didn't look away from the holotable as he spoke.

"Send them, let them know we are an Astartes vessel." I could hear the pride that filled his voice at that, an honor that a very few ship Captains could claim. The comms officer listened to the reply before he looked up.

"They want to know why we are my lords, but have given the green light to enter planetary orbit." The ship accelerated, pulling at our bones as we hurtled across the empty expanse of space. In the far distance, a thick carpet of Asteroids hung around the sun, bleached and barren.

"Let them know that the Chapter Master of the Iron Drakes seeks an audience with the Planetary Governor. In the desire of a deal between our powers." The officer spoke the message and I knew it would have the desired effect. Any contact with Marines was a rare thing, to be offered to speak with a Chapter Master in person would see me moved to the front of any leader's schedule. Alexander turned to me, a question falling from his lips.

"Do you desire an armsman escort planetside my lord?" I shook my head.

"No, I believe an Agri-world such would have a more temperate Governor, a show of force is not needed, and arriving with armsman instead of Astartes guards may call into question the power of my Chapter." Alexander's thick eyebrows came together in a line in confusion. I answered them before he spoke.

"A single Astartes is a powerful thing, but there is also the idea that he has an entire Chapter behind him. If this Governor knew that my Chapter was made up of only me, he may feel that he has more power over our dealings that I desire him to realize. Tarth has little in the way of trade goods, I must put forward that I have strength, even if I have little." My Captain looked angered by my words.

"That any Governor would do anything but promise support is an affront to his duty. Adeptus Astartes protect all worlds under their watch, he should be giving you his worlds bounty my lord, offering it to see your power grow as fast as it can." I chuckled, the sound making several midshipmen and officers flinch in fear as the sound came cracking out of my armors speakers.

"The men and women who control entire planets are a greedy kind, they have their position through military power or backroom dealings. Never is the transfer of governorship from one noble house to another a bloodless affair. They grow arrogant, prideful of their power, until an Ork horde or the Great Enemy come descending upon their worlds and their defence forces are crushed."

At the very mention of heretics has many muttering prayers to the Emperor for protection and safety, to them, the forces of Chaos was a horror that they hoped to never see, much less fight. I shrugged.

"Perhaps I will get lucky with this one." I said, boots grinding as I turned from the bridge.

I should have known better.

We settle above the world a few hours later, gliding into orbit high above the Capital city. I depart for the hangers, a landing zone for my thunderhawk selected and sent.

Engines roaring we descended through the atmosphere, David pulling the ship into an easy turn to bleed off the speed of reentry. The planet's entire surface is filled with vast fields, orchards and cattle, geneforged to be larger and fatter than their ancient terran ancestors.

Large combines chewed through the fields as work groups in their thousands descended upon the orchards to pick them clean under the gaze of taskmasters. We had come during this side of the planet's harvest. Outside the planet's cities massive silos are built deep into the ground, hundreds of haulers heavy set with grain waiting to drop their cargo. The capital city itself stretched for kilometers, a place for the workers and their masters to spend their vastly different amounts of coin.

As it was with many developed Imperial cities the habitation units of the lower class were separated from the spires of the wealthy that towered over roads and basic manufactorum complexes. The thunderhawk set down on a landing pad built into the spire that dominated the center of the city, one thousand meters above the ground. I rose as my harness unlocked, the bay door light turning green as it unlocked and hissed open to the ground. Despair climbed from my hands and behind the space between my helm and powerpack.

He enjoyed the heat.

The Planetary Governor waited for me at the end of the walkway that connected to his spire. He was, like many Imperial Governors, fat and pale. Silk robes and gaudy chains of gold swayed as he was carried forward on a palanquin that was shaded from the soft sunlight overhead. An honor guard of soldiers and other nobility came after him, the warriors were his house guard, dressed in flamboyant flack armor that would protect nothing in an actual battle. That alone told me this world had not seen war in some time.

The Governor waved his scepter and his servants lowered him to the ground as I approached. Huffing slightly as he moved his large bulk from his seat and waddled towards me. His voice was sniveling and annoying.

"Greetings honored Astartes. I am Planetary Governor Abesta Yermost. It is my pleasure to welcome you to the Agri-world of Edrotis. " He smiled widely, teeth golden and I dipped my head in greetings.

"I am Chapter Master of the Iron Drakes, I have come to seek a source of food stuffs for my planet, to feed its soon to be growing population, as well as to supply colonists for its cities." The man's eyes grew wide and he grinned wider.

"But of course, of course Chapter Master. Please, come inside, we should speak out of the sunlight. It's bad for one's health you know, better for the working class below." I could hear his heart beating wildly inside his chest, both from my presence, and the effort of climbing back inside his palanquin. His soldiers sloppily went to the side, boots clacking in uncoordinated effort to make room for their lord. I followed beside him, his aids and other mumbling nobility following behind.

We passed through a set of large double doors marked with symbols of grain and bountiful harvest, a sickle raised in a farmer's hand as he went about his daily task under the gaze of a master. Inside a large vaulted ceiling rose high above the chamber, lifts and other doored hallways leading to other parts of the spire.

We traveled up, passing statues and paintings, traded gold and silver artwork. All the while the man went on and on about his world, how beautiful it is, how well his workers are trained.

We come to a large throne room, a dias rising in the back of the room, leading to a flat platform which his chair is set upon. His servants stay kneeling, bare shoulders red from holding up their master. He clapped his hands and more servants attended him, a goblet of wine and fruit soon resting by his side. A few came up to me and offered me the same, but I waved them away with a hand.

"Now that we are out of the sun, we can talk more openly about this, deal? Your vox officer spoke off?" His voice was one of open greed and curiosity, small pig like eyes resting on my helm.

"I am seeking men and women to live upon the world I am colonizing for my Chapter. It must have a certain level of population and production before we can move our forces there." Excitement came to the front of the man's eyes, and he almost clapped his hands in glee.

"Oohh to have a Space Marine Chapter so near to my own planet. Why, the very idea of it will set the people into jubilation! They will be overjoyed knowing that such protectors are ready to defend our home." I nodded, it was our duty to protect the worlds of the Imperium after all. His smile turned into a grin.

"I am more than willing to give you a part of my cities people, and even to provide food for them. But I must ask a boon of you Chapter Master." I frowned inside my helm. Here we went. His tone became somber and sad. His face becoming downcast.

"Times have been hard on my world honored Astartes. Other governors jockey for power and titles, some that have been in my family for generations. They scheme behind my back and plot to overthrow me!" Those nobility behind me shifted slightly, but none of them were worried the words were directed at them.

The Governor took a large sip of his wine, a line of the liquid running down his check, quickly dabbed away on the sleeve of his robe.

"I ask for protection mighty Chapter Master. A few of your Marines will stay here and ensure my safety. Providing food to the Imperium is a hard task, the administrative duties are taxing. I cannot spend the time looking over my back." I was shaking my head before he finished.

"I am sorry lord Governor, but such a thing is impossible. Every warrior under my command must be ready for duty, I cannot garrison them on worlds that are not in immediate threat." The Governor's lip turned into a pout, and I shivered in disdain at the action.

"But if I die our deal will fall through. The transports I have are slow things Chapter Master, they brave the warp to bring food to millions. To make an extra stop takes fuel, manpower and time. I am currently in a position to allow for such things, but a war over my throne could throw the entire planet into disarray!" He finishes with a wide sweep of his arms. I was not impressed by his speech.

Despair rose from his spot behind my helm and stretched, the Governor's eyes now catching sight of the Drake. He stopped for a moment, and some rabbid excitement poured into his form.

"What is that?!" He exclaimed, pointing towards the drake that rose behind my helm to regard him. Despair had grown in the time in the void, now draping across my shoulders. I could feel his own bit of disgust from the very sight of the man. I lifted a hand and scratched at the Drakes chin beside my head.

"This is a drake Governor, a symbol of my Chapter and companion." The man was still giddy, bouncing in his chair like a child.

"That, that will be my price, a pet such as that would make me well known by all!" I stopped dead, my hands slowly going to my side as fury I did not recognize welled up in my hearts, combat stimulants threatening to pour into my blood.

"A Drake is not pet." I spit, the mortals around me recoiling at the hostility in my voice. The Governor pales and the stench of fear wafts off him, he takes a different approach.

"I mean no offence Chapter Master. I have never seen such a beast before, I am sorry if I insulted you." He observed me for a moment, something churning inside his eyes before the sound of bell chimes came from all around. He smiles.

"Well, we can continue this tomorrow. I have other very pressing duties to attend to, my most humble apologies." He clapped his hands twice and his servants lifted him from this place.

"A servant will show you to a guest chamber, where you may stay if you like until tomorrow, where we can continue our discussion." I watched the man leave and a small woman, no older than sixteen terran years, came up to me, head bowed and meek. Her voice was soft, and fearful.

"If you will follow me my lord, I will take you to the guest chambers." I nodded and sighed, sending a quick vox message to the thunderhawk crew to relay a message to Alexander in orbit. I would be staying a little while longer.

We entered one of the many lifts and went down two levels, the doors opening to more grand arching hallways and symbols of wealth. Statues and paintings, rich rugs of animal hide and silk. The girl opened the door to a penthouse, a multi-layered chamber with a large washroom, bedroom, dining room and others I could only guess the purpose of. Wherever possible balconies were built to look out over the fields below.

I made my way to the bedroom and stepped out on one, hearing the slightest groan of the metal struts underneath. If I had a jump pack and one squad of Assault Marines I could take this entire spire down in minutes, such were its poorly planned defenses. My armors sensorium told me of movement behind me and I figured the girl was setting up some refreshments or setting out food. But when I turned she was naked and standing shamefully, covering herself and not meeting my eyes.

"What, are you doing?" I spoke, confusion layering my voice. The crack from my armors speakers made the girl flinch, and she looked up at me with terror filled eyes.

"The Governor said to offer you every luxury my lord. That, that includes his servants." I let out a silent sigh and lifted my hand to my helm, twisting it and moving it to my belt. The girl looked upon my image with wonder, as many did.

"I must refuse. Your Governor is widely unknowledgeable of the ways of Astartes. Such," I paused to find the words in a way she would understand. "Things, are not desirable to us." The girl paused, suddenly looking down and picking up her clothing before fleeing the room. I looked to Despair beside me.

"The ways of humans will forever puzzle me." He climbed down my armors side and began to explore the room. Everything was interesting to him, new and shiny after days spent in the confines of a ship chamber. Not that those were not large themselves.

I let him explore while I returned to the balcony and looked out past the sprawling streets and towers below to the fields beyond. They are ugly things now, the combines leaving nothing behind. I was sure that which was not grain would be used somehow. Starch for the poorest to buy and mix with water to make fowl tasting bread.

A memory slipped from past to present and I could taste that bread for a moment, see a woman's face, a man's gentle calloused hands. Mortals long dead, memories best forgotten.

As the sun set over beaten and barren fields, trucks filled with work gangs flowing back into the city. Disappearing among the work centers and transit hubs.

When morning came I was led to a breakfast feast thrown in my honor, doors of wood with golden fruit trees on their front spread wide to reveal a table beyond. At its front sat the Imperial Governor, face already marked with jam and crumbs of pastries. Nobles around him placed down their forks with practiced ease and stood to greet me, an orator panickedly looking between me and his lord. The obese mortal smacking loudly, so infused into his food that he had not noticed my entry.

For a beat I stood silent, giving a small nod to the orator and stepped loudly towards the table. Abesta jumped, dropping his toast covered in honey and jam onto his plate. For a moment fury filled his face and it soured, but then his eyes rose, and he saw who it had entered.

"The Chapter Master of the Iron Drakes!" The orator shouted from behind me, determined to fulfill his duty. The lord of the planet smiled widely and waved a servant forward to clean his face.

"It is a pleasure to see you this morning my lord! Please, come and eat with us." He motioned to a place beside him, a place of honor to any other. I made my way around the forty meter table and gazed at the solid stone throne beside the Governor, at least it would support my weight.

I sat and lifted a scrap of meat for Despair to eat, the eyes of the Governor were glued to the Drake.

"I am sure you wish to continue business Chapter Master?" I nodded and we began to discuss. How many of his people was I asking for, how much grain, how much fruit, how much of everything. I felt irritation building in my gut as the Governor compared how many males or females he should send for breeding if desired.

"I am sorry for the girl sent to you last night. I realize you found her unpleasurable. She was disciplined of course, and a different servant can be made available to you if desired." I paused in my scrap feeding to Despair.

"You, punished the girl?" The large man only nodded, taking another sip of his wine, speaking with a chuckle.

"Well of course, she was supposed to see to your needs and yet fled." My contempt was hidden by my helm.

"The urges of flesh do not affect Astartes Governor." The man looked at me in utter confusion for a moment, as if every man was as bestial as he was. However it repulsed me, I made myself take in the scents around me. I could smell sweat, food and blood on the Governors hands.

"I, did not know Chapter Master, I am sorry if I offended you." This mortal was beginning to push at my patience with his endless talking. He resumed our earlier conversation about shipment as he moaned about the risks to his throne.

The conversation went nowhere, round and round the Governor talked until I had started to simply tune him out, spending my time wondering how I would best destroy his spire. A few dozen meltas around the base supports may do it. By now the feast had ended but many souls remained in the hall, talking quietly and trying to seem like they weren't listening to every word that passed between us.

"Enough." I finally ended his moaning.

"You have my terms, the guaranteed protection of your world when my Chapter moves into the sector for a small part of your food stuff and population filled onto my ship. There are other Agri-worlds I can go to." The table went quiet and the lord's face went red with embarrassment. He snarled in his weady voice at those nearby.

"All of you, leave us!" The nobles left, many casting looks between me and the Governor before the large doors shut with a clang, the lord raising a shaking hand to dap away some sweat on his brow.

"Please understand Chapter Master, I need the protection of your Astartes! My grip on the world is slipping, these venomous dogs circle me and nip at my heels, looking to steal power and property. The Governors of other large cities have started to grow their own personal armies, and if war descends upon the planet the Sub-sector could starve!" I despised Imperial politics.

"I am not your huntsman to destroy your enemies Governor, I am not your watchdog to sit at your door and keep your home safe. I am an Adeptus Astartes, and I destroy the enemies of mankind." He placed his goblet down hard and wiggled in his seat towards me.

"These are the enemies of Mankind! They are planning to remove me from my throne! My family has ruled this planet for twenty generations Chapter Master! It is my right to rule over these filth!" He slammed his hand down on the table, a wet thunk.

"And who ruled before your family Governor?" I said as I rose from the table, watching as fear filled his face when I stepped back from the table.

"We can speak more when you have calmed yourself. I think the wine is getting to you." He swelled in anger and yelled at my back, the large doors pushed open and closed by a pair of servants.

I walked back through the hallways towards my room, my battle plates sensorium informing me of a single body that lurked behind the next corner. I stepped around the corner, the youth taking several steps back in shock.

"Speak." I snapped at the man as his face drained of blood. I was tired of talking. He took a few seconds to compose himself and started.

"I am Thresh Lehormis my lord. A member of a noble family that holds vast swaths of land around the planet, my family controls five of the main cities." I stared at him, so this was one of the faces of the men who would see the ruler overthrown.

"Many have heard the irritation in your voice my lord, all of us can see you are tired of the Governor as we are." A single eyebrow was raised inside my helm.

"You are speaking of treason, explain yourself before I end you for it." The man, no older than twenty, and assuredly nothing more than a mouthpiece for a longer player, continued.

"I, will be to the point with you my lord. My family is trying to overthrow the Governor, and we are ready. He is weak, his tithes tax the people more than you know, the fields out of view of the capital are fraudulent with danger and death and he does nothing for it. He is pushing the people into rebellion. And we are trying to stop him."

Never was anything simple in this galaxy.

"And why should I support you? Why should I not inform the Governor of your family's treachery and see you scoured from the planet? I am sure he would be thankful for such a thing." The youth gave me a nervous smile, his heart beating hard inside his chest.

"Because, because you were angry with him for hurting the girl, I could hear it my lord and if you knew the atrocities he did to them, to all the people of this world, you would help us. You, care, my lord. I am sure of it." I sighed within my armor, but nodded all the same. The Imperial war machine did not care who governed a planet, only that its tithes were filled and production quotas met. But I had not forgotten my humanity during my long years of war.

But helping them overthrow a Planetary Governor was a different matter. Such actions of a Chapter sent ripples through the sectors of space. If Astartes' military might could be bartered for, then what planet was safe from drop pods coming to sentence them to new loyalties.

We were to be above such petty things, for where did that line start and end. An Inquisitor could have many questions for such an action and they were not to be taken lightly. Many a Chapter had suffered under their self righteous and uncompromising ability to stamp out corruption, real or not.

"If you wish for me to take your family seriously, then I will need a meeting with the heads of your house." The man's eyes widened in surprise, and he smiled.

"Of course," He handed me a small scroll that I read with a glance, and handed back to him to his surprise.

"That is not acceptable. They may meet me on the Emperor's Light, tomorrow or not at all, I will be leaving the world's surface for the time being. Word of my involvement until the actions are done will not be spread." The youth nodded and hurried away.

For a moment I thought of finding a servant to tell of my leaving, but I knew how Yermosta treated his servants, and how he would punish the one who told him. Instead I walked back to the hall and pushed at the doors before the servants could. In my anger I had forgotten to make my footfalls heavy so that the mortals knew I was coming.

The Governor was still there, a man whispering into his ear. Both jerked away from one another as I pushed the doors open. Calling across the hall uncaring.

"I am leaving for my ship for a few days. I will return after you have had time to think of my offer." Then I leave, the calls of the frantic Governor fading behind me. As I walk I pointedly ignored the poorly placed pict-recorders that were built into walls hidden behind thin paintings. If I so desired, my armors own systems could have scrambled their wireless links, as I did when the youth had approached me.

I sent a vox to my thunderhawk crew as I travel to the landing pad. By the time I was crossing the platform, the craft was running, its engines growling and waiting to be used.

I strode up the ramp and pounded my fist into the button to close it, my helm rising to the crew that waited for further orders above me.

"My apologies for making you wait for the night here. We are returning to Strike Cruiser for now." They all shook their heads and one spoke up from his place at the vox relay.

"Don't worry about it my lord, these seats are plenty comfortable with some blankets." I set myself into the restraint throne, the craft lifting, its landing gear sliding up and into the machine.

With a roar we broke away from the planets atmosphere, Despair's teeth clenched at the uncomfortable feeling. David was still taking it easy on the speed, but the force of leaving and entering a planet was great. We set down in the hanger and stride from the ramp. I sent a message ahead to Alexander to have the Master of Arms present himself to me at my chambers. It does not take long for confirmation.

Half an hour later and a knock comes to my door, the steel parting and the man entering. His uniform is well kept with short cut hair and well trimmed beard of brown. He salutes and stands as I rose from my seat. Despair pads around the mans feet, but he looks only forward.

"You called for me my lord." I motioned for him to shut the door.

"What I am to say stays between us." The officer went still, a vain on his neck starting to pulse.

"Tomorrow there will be a group of men who will land in a minor hanger on the lower deck, I will speak with them, and then they will leave. Nobody is to be allowed inside the hanger at that time." The man's face dipped into a frown.

"If I may be so bold my lord, what..." He paused, and realization dawned on him. He was sharp one.

"You, seek to overthrow the Planetary Governor my lord?" I nodded, seeing no point in lying.

"The man is unfit to rule. His power is slipping already, all I will be doing is preventing a civil war from erupting on the planet." The Master of Arms was quiet for a long moment before he spoke.

"If, that is your order my lord, when I will trust in your judgment and will."

"I am thankful for the trust, nor will I forget it. If I help these men or not I cannot allow anyone to know I am meeting with these lords. It would only take a single word for the planet to slip into war. After this is said and done, I will deal with whatever comes next." The officer saluted once more and I returned to my planning, sketches of the Fortress-Monastery I was going to build.

The next day I stand alone in the sub-hanger on deck twenty seven, empty but for those servetors that performed basic tasks. The blast doors were open, the scent of ozone filling the air as the field kept space at bay. An arvus lighter slowly made its way into an empty landing pad, settling as its cargo walked down the ramp.

Unlike the leader of the planet, these men were fitter, some were on the heavy side, but that was most common among nobility. Four of them exited the craft, at their head, eyes hard and a laspistol under his robes, the leader of the rebels walked. He bowed and made the symbol of the Aquila, and I dipped my helm in return.

"I thank you for meeting with me my lord, these are trying times for the world I cherish, and to know that you are willing to hear us out brings me great comfort." He says, and I gazed at the faces of the others around him.

"What is your name Governor." He smiled a bit, as if expecting my question.

"I am Dahl Lehormis, head of my family." The words came easy from his mouth, practiced.

"And you already know my title. Let us get to it. You are planning to overthrow the Governor of your world because you see him unfit to rule. Your, grandchild told me he is forcing your people into rebellion with his tithes. That is not enough for me see him overthrown, now matter how it may curl my stomach." I would not banter any longer, now was the time for simple speech and action. The lord reached into his sleeve and pulled out a dataslate, pressing his thumb to a small hole where a tiny needle took his blood before activating.

"I know that my lord, and I would not seek to displace him because of that alone, however it may sadden me. It is a necessary evil, many would say. But no. I wish to remove him, because he is using the thrones he gets from these extra tithes to support the pirates that plague the entire Sub-sector. He uses their ships to force higher prices on 'lost' goods and grain shipments. He threatens the stability of the entire area." I read the dataslate in my hands, scanning through hundreds of reports from spies about good being sold a second or third time as they exchanged hands again and again.

This changed things, and in these lord's favor.

"We cannot fight against Yermosta openly. Such a thing would cause others to strike out on their own with their own forces. We need you to kill him, and publicly throw your support and the support of your Chapter behind our claim to the throne." I had expected such.

"And what can I expect in return for risking my Chapter to an Inquisitorial enquiry? Astartes do not go about playing politics for the lords of every planet." The man smiled.

"I know that I ask much of you Chapter Master. I have heard you seek colonists to populate your planet, food for them. It will be yours, without question, for as long as my family holds the throne my descendants will honor this pact, it will be carved into the very history of our legacy so that we will never forget it."

"And I must trust that after I leave you will honor this pact? That as soon as my warship leaves the system you will not ignore this deal and go running to a different power?" The lord shook his head.

"I would swear upon every oath my lord, and I would know better regardless. To break a deal with one such as yourself, my family would not survive such wrath." He feared me, or the Chapter that he assumed stood behind me, that was good. I walked up to the lord who did not step back, two of his fellows did as I held out my hand for him to shake, enveloping his mortal fingers in my own armored gauntlet.

"Then it will be so Dahl Lehormis. Tell me more of this plan of yours."

We spent the next two hours covering what they had in motion for the last four years. But my sudden arrival had thrown it all into overdrive. One week they said, to move their soldiers into places of power and make the last few bribes to the correct people. Military leaders of the PDF, important leaders of industry and trade, the heads of the farming guilds. Then, all they needed was for me to kill their lord, and declare my support for them.

I spent this week with Despair, watching as the Drake grew centimeter by centimeter. Ignoring the calls from the Planetary Governor, his vox signal pestered the ship during all hours, to the point the officer in charge of communications had asked Alexander if he could block the signal.

I told my Captain of my plan, and after explaining the situation to him, he had agreed that it was for the best. Better to cut off the head of a diseased world than see the entire population thrown into chaos. One death, instead of thousands. I had seen what food shortages could do to a planet. Cannibalism was often the least of such worries when starving people turned to darker powers for salvation.

Upsetting the balance of a world set a poor taste in my mouth, it was not something that I had any desire to make a habit of. But there were other motives of my own at play. Tarth needed stable worlds in its Sub-Sector, not anarchy and strife.

At the end of the week I had the vox officer send a single communication to the planet below. I was willing to accept Yermosta's terms. I left Despair in my room on the ship. I knew how strong drake scaled could be, but if fighting did erupt, the Drake laying across my shoulders would be an inconvenience.

This time when the thunderhawk landed there were banners strung up on the walkway, fluttering in the wind that blew gently in the morning light. The Planetary Governor and his host were assembled once more, a giddy smile was permanently on Lehormis's face.

"I am so pleased that you saw reason Chapter Master! I thought you would leave for a few days when none of my communications were going through." I stode passed him, his servants turning to keep up.

"There was a minor malfunction in my ship's communication relay, it was fixed but demanded my attention." The Governor ate up the lie and motioned his servants forward, matching my pace.

"We will have a feast in honor of this momentous occasion! Soon the scouring of the traitors in my midst can begin!" I only nodded and the procession of leaders and nobility followed us to the feasting hall. This time it was set up in a grander affair. More banners hung from the walls, massive plates of food were set out, servants in their dozens hovering about the table, waiting to refill goblets and serve the courses.

I ignored the speech the Yermosta gave and instead sat back in my chair, looking down the table to where the Lehormis family sat, even from here I could see how tense they were, eyes roaming up and down the table, a few glanced towards me, but no more than any other noble at the table.

Then the feasting began, and the Governor beside me turned his double chinned face towards me.

"So, how many Astartes can I expect to protect me Chapter Master? Five? Ten?" I stood from my seat, all conversation and motion in the room dying. Suffocating silence dragged onward, I let it, watching the Imperial Governor grow more and more confused. I began our charade.

"Imperial Space Marines are charged with protecting every world in the Emperor's Imperium, we are the shield and the sword on which xenos, heretics, and traitors are purged from his worlds." All eyes were upon me, even the servants stopping their tasks as I went on.

"It is the duty of all of us, to ensure we do our best for our Emperor. To not waste resources, time, and men on selfish actions," I looked right at the Governor, who was now looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"More so are Imperial Governor's held to the highest of standards. For they are given the great privilege of ruling his worlds, to guide them in their development so that they might provide the Imperium with the great many things it needs to survive these dark decades." From within a pouch on my belt I withdraw a small holo-projector and throw it on the table. It activates, data streams and images showcasing the great many crimes of the fat mortal on the throne. He exploded into rage.

"I do not know by what sources you claim these, these things against me! But they are all lies! I have-." I grab the combat blade at my waist, the puggy mortals eyes going wide as he starts to struggle out of his chair.

"Guards! Guards I am being attacked!" Those house guards in the room do not move, they eye me with fear, their hands trembling.

"Lord Abesta Yermost. I sentence you to death for your crimes, for breaking the law of the Lex Imperialis, for conspiring with pirates and the negligence of your world. May the Emperor judge you fairly." He screams as I descend upon him, throwing his hands up in defense, I cannot even sully my blade with his blood. So instead I grab this thick neck and twist, a sick popping ending his screaming.

The doors of the hallway burst open, more soldiers entering. They looked between me and the corpse, some raised their lasguns. They hesitate and I move forward, one trembling aging man panics at the movement, terror in his eyes. He shoots me, a single beam of red light smacking against my pauldron. My pistol is on him before he can fall to his knees and scramble back from his weapon. The nobles are growing restless, the quiet has dragged on to long.

"I came to this world for trade, to ensure my planet's survival in the coming years. Instead I found this filth ruling your planet. So I have done what I must and removed a cancer that would have brought destruction to your world." I nodded my helm to the Lehormis family.

"The Lehormis have shown me that they are capable of fulfilling the role of Planetary Governors. Any who disagree will say so now, or hold their peace." Not one soul spoke, and the head of their house came to stand near me..

I take a single step back from the body to give him room. Without hesitation he reaches in and grasps a pendant that hangs there, a large ruby in the center of a ring of gold. A symbol of rule. He then turns to his fellows, slipping it around his neck.

"We are going to establish prosperity among the people once again. For too long our planet has suffered under the rule of this family, he had no heirs, no future, yet he clung to power. We have removed him, and with the authority and blessing of the Iron Drakes, have taken on the mantle for ourselves. I speak to those of you who would attempt to break off from our authority, do not try it." His voice was harsh and my battle plates sensors chimed as soldiers of a different livery came from small doorways used by servants.

"All of you will be returned to your families once loyalty has been sworn, only one man needed die today." Those warriors of the dead Governor threw down their arms and surrendered as youths of nobility who had been kept close at hand came forward to swear allegiance, seeing no other option.

I spent three days on the planet after this, signing a contract of sorts with the new Planetary Governor. He had asked if a parade through the city in my honor might be held, but I had refused, having had enough of this grandstanding and speeches for some time. Instead the cargo holds of my ship are filled with one thousand souls and more than enough food for them all and Tarth for some time. Large vaults deep in the ship filled and locked, stasis fields holding them in perfect quality for as long as needed.

The people were flown up to the ship in arvus lighters where voidsman directed them to the decks they would be staying. I could have taken a few thousand more, but the colony was not ready for such an influx of people, and I would not have them sleeping without some kind of shelter. They could stay aboard the ship for a time as more buildings were constructed, but these were not the only ones I planned to bring with me.

We left the system behind and planned our journey to the Feudal-world nearby. There were quite a few systems within the Sector and Sup-sectors of this area of space, but I planned on visiting only those I must.

It does not take long to reach our next destination. Unlike the trials at the Agri-world my visit there was a quick and fruitful affair. The lords of the old houses all but jockeyed for the chance to send their strongest and best to my ship, offering services and even a few soldiers should I desire it.

I left that world with another thousand souls in my hold and a small handful of personal guards that had been offered, twenty such soldiers, nothing in the wider Imperium, but enough to supplant the men of the Sargent I had left on Tarth.

My last stop was by far the one that I looked forward to the least. The Forge-world of the Mechanicus that provided the bulk of manufacturing for the sector.

Only minutes after leaving the Mandavil Point we are hailed by the vox relays built to cover all areas of the system. We gave them our identification codes, and after almost an hour of waiting, were allowed to approach the planet.

Planetary defense platforms hung around the smog covered world, bristling gundecks of marco cannons and lances enough to scour a planet clean of life leveled against any who would dare to assault such a bastion.

As before, a landing area was designated for my thunderhawk, and as we traveled down to the surface I linked my helmet's feed to view the outside. I had seen Hive-worlds before, the kilometer upon kilometer of stacked industrial sites and habitation units, the spires of those who lived above it all. Nothing could compare to the immensity of a Forge-world. As hives were homes to untold billions or even trillions. So were Forge-worlds home to millions who spent an entire lifetime fabricating, one's entire purpose for one reason and one reason alone. Even if that was as simple as to turn a single screw along a vast assembly line for all time.

Great manufactorums belched smoke and cargo freighters ran above the planet's surface, massive haulers from far off worlds dropped hundreds of thousands of kilograms of raw ore and material to be processed and created into any number of patterns of goods. Vast rivers of molten metal and chemical waste were in place of any natural liquid, whatever life had been here long ago was scrubbed clean by the Tech-priests who called it home. The cities of metal teemed like a kicked anthill.

We landed in one of the southern hemispheres factories, a platform raised above the belching towers of smoke and smog. The cockpit was shut before the doors opened, sealing away the small bit of clean air my crew guarded jealously.

Even I was not foolish enough to expect a meeting with the master of this Forge-world, instead being sent to speak with one of his Magos who controlled a planetary forge, still a high honor on such short notice.

The platform I stepped onto was large, made for something bigger than a thunderhawk. A walkway a hundred meters long stretched out before me, bare but for the symbols of the cog that sat in the center of every steel Magos that stepped from the heavy doors was every bit as abominable as I had expected. Second and third metal arms bulged from his back and lower torso, still human fingers held clasped together in front of him. Metal wires, mechadendrites and weapons bulged out in all directions. Servo-skulls danced around him, two chanting softly in binary.

A dozen Skitarii walked in the perfect step behind him. I nodded my head to Magos and he made the symbol of the cog in return.

"Greetings Astartes. You have come here for wargear." I nod, there was no point in trying to lie to a Priest of Mars like I could fool a backwater Agri-world Governor. Instead of speaking more, I held out the scroll that had sent me on this quest in the first place, the original copy. The Tech-priest took it in his metal hands with care, reading it and a burst of binary coming out from the speakers built into his throat.

"This is unprecedented, untested, unwise." He states in a mechanical snide, and handed the scroll back to me, retracting as if the parchment burned him.

"I would not guess to know the minds of the High Lords. But I do as the Emperor wills. I have come to ask for your assistance in arming my Chapter for war against the enemies at our gates." The Tech-priest was silent for some time, gears turning themselves in his mind, untold calculations flashing in his eyes.

"Unavailable, resources have been cut by thirty percent after reduced material output from Mining-world Rivia." His next words were filled with irritation, bits of static coming through the speakers.

"Ancient treaties do not allow us to act against the planet…" His one remaining human eye bored into my helmet eye lenses.

"But you are not so held down, Astartes. If you secure the world's ores for us again, we will produce your wargear." More hoops to jump through, more backs to scratch. Nothing was ever simple in the Imperium of Man.

"Then we have an agreement." I didn't extend my hand for the Magos to shake, nor did he offer any kind of consummation for our pact. The servo-skulls above him answering all at once, a dozen voices chiming out.

"We do."


AN: This chapter starts to kick off some of the larger changes that have been made thus far. I hope you have enjoyed.