In the Eyes of Men
by FalconWind
A/N: This will no doubt be very strange to most seasoned WH40K veterans, so please bear with it. All will be explained at the end of the chapter.
Chapter Eleven
"Impending Doom"
When Harrington arrived at the bridge, the intricate ballet known as 'Battle Stations' was already being played out. Officers and crew, instinctively sought their rightful places. Which left General Harrington, and Colonel Kamerov, in an unusual position of not having anything to do during an impending battle. However, they knew that this was Admiral Tokugawa's domain, and they'd best stay back.
However, unlike the earlier tense rendezvous with the Thunderhawks, Harrington could see that this was much more serious. The 'company' as Tokugawa had so aptly described, was such that normally, it would need no magnification to see. However, it's pitch-black colour had it nearly invisible on the backdrop of space.
It was a Battlebarge. And as everyone onboard knew. Only one military force in the universe used Battlebarges.
"Space Marines," said Kamerov dreadfully.
"Captain Ross," shouted the admiral, "I want every man ready to fight at a moment's notice."
"Yes, sir!"
Harrington piped up. "Admiral, we do not know their intentions. They might not know we've gone rogue, they could just have stumbled upon us."
"Do you realize the astronomically low chances of 'stumbling upon us'?" asked Tokugawa. "Chances are, they are here because of us," he said grimly.
-----------------------------------
"Librarian," called the ship's captain, "there is a small fleet of Imperial ships dead ahead. It is just as you predicted."
"Indeed, let's have a look, shall we?" Librarian Covan said, as he strode towards the view screen. The image zoomed in, displaying the lead ship. "Unusual markings, I believe it says 'Redoubtable'."
"Indeed, it does, sir," someone said.
"These markings and transponder codes are not present in the ship's database," commented the captain. "Of course, our information is a little... dated. It is likely they would have changed them by now."
"If ten thousand years is a 'little dated', I would hate to see what old is," mused Covan.
"Sir, their gun ports are open," the captain, said slightly worried. It would not be the first time an Imperial ship had fired upon them.
Covan was not concerned. "It's alright, we simply caught them by surprise."
---------------------------------
Harrington was not an expert on Space Marines, but he did think he knew most of the colours and insignia. He could not recall a chapter that utilized pitch black with red highlights. Although similar, it was certainly not the Black Templars.
"Admiral, we're receiving a transmission, standard hail."
"Answer it, then," Tokugawa said promptly.
"This is the Expositus Manus, battlebarge of the Doom Lords, loyal servants of the Emperor. I am Captain Teros."
Harrington and Tokugawa exchanged glances. "This is the Redoubtable of the Tellaris Fleet, Admiral Tokugawa speaking."
Harrington whispered to Kamerov, "Get Horandrin up here, quick. He might know something about these 'Doom Lords'."
Kamerov nodded, and exited the bridge with haste.
Tokugawa had questioning eyes.
The general mouthed the word "stall".
Tokugawa cleared his throat theatrically. "I'm afraid your markings and name are unfamiliar to us, Captain. Perhaps you could enlighten us."
There was a pause. "We are not well known throughout the Imperium," was the simple answer.
The admiral was now both intrigued, and stalling for time. "A not well known Space Marine Chapter? I did not know such a thing existed," he said adding a chuckle for good measure. Hopefully, the man on the other end did not feel like he was being questioned.
There was another appreciable pause. "Um, yes, well, it is rare indeed. What are you doing here?"
Tokugawa actually smiled to himself. "Us? We're conducting a planetary survey."
"Really? That is quite a bit of firepower for a survey mission," the captain said, dryly.
"Oh, well, you never know who you might bump into," Tokugawa said, and nearly regretted it.
Harrington actually winced. Inside jokes are not good strategy.
"So what are YOU, doing here?" Tokugawa asked the Captain, who sounded young to him.
"Um, we just happened to stumble across you," he said dismissively.
Harrington had to put his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing, And Tokugawa didn't make things any easier.
"Captain, do you realize the astronomically low chances of 'stumbling upon us'?" he said with far too much mirth in his voice. "What's the real reason you're here?"
There was a pause. "I'd rather not say, sir."
"Captain, as a Fleet Admiral, I am ordering you to tell me." He made sure to emphasize the fact that he far exceeded him in rank. He had trapped him in the vise-like grip of the command structure.
"It is true you far exceed my rank, but I am under the jurisdiction of the Adeptes Astartes, and not the Imperial Fleet," informed the unseen captain.
Tokugawa was taken aback. The captain was right. /Well, that's what I get for being self-important,/ thought the admiral. "Now see here, Captain! We were here first! By standard procedures, we are in situational command! Thus, you are under our jurisdiction!"
The voice was different the next time it came through the speaker. "This is Brother Covan, Librarian of the Doom Lords, 1st Battalion, 1st Company."
Everyone stiffened as they realized they were now talking to a psyker. Every single one of them, even Ba'al, was like an open book to him.
Harrington's mouth had dried.
"We are here because you are here," the Librarian explained. "You need not be anxious, we are friends."
There was the sudden feeling of the air shifting around them. Those who looked to see the cause, saw the Shadow standing near the back of the bridge. "Indeed we are," announced the Shadow loudly, startling those who had not seen him present. "Welcome, Covan. I trust you know who this is?"
"Indeed, I do," was the reply. "The presence of a god is unmistakable."
"What's going on here?" Tokugawa demanded. "How is it he knows you?"
The answer dawned on Harrington. "He is part of the Circle..." he said, amazed. "Isn't he?"
"Indeed, he is," the Shadow said, nodding. "I told you the Circle was larger than you knew."
"Impossible!" All eyes turned to Horandrin, who still stood at the entrance to the elevator. His eyes blazed brightly, contrasting the dark, red, lighting. "They could not be part of this 'Circle', if they are a part of the Imperium and loyal to the Emperor."
"We are not part of the Imperium. We are a Legion of exiles. We are somewhat unconventional in our loyalty to the Emperor, and humanity," the Librarian said.
Harrington chuckled. "Which basically means, you're renegades; just like us."
"I could not say. I do not know you well enough to make that comparison. However, the presence of a chaos sorcerer onboard does not do you well in my eyes." Covan could sense Horandrin, but could not read him, for Horandrin held his thoughts closely. "The only reason that I are not hostile at this moment is because the Shadow assures me that all is well."
"And how does one worship the Emperor and the Shadow simultaneously?" Horandrin asked in an almost-sneer.
"One doesn't," said Covan.
"I do not ask for their worship, or allegiance. Only their trust. It is the very same that I ask of you," the Shadow clarified. "Now, if Admiral Tokugawa would allow it, I would like you to come aboard, so that I might show you the reason I have asked you here." He looked at the admiral, who squirmed uneasily, and agreed.
They made arrangements to meet in the main hanger. The same hanger that Horandrin and most of his men, were housed.
As they exited the bridge, Harrington asked Horandrin a question. "Do you know of the Doom Lords?"
He shook his head. "I do not. Perhaps it is a new Chapter."
"I don't think so, Horandrin. He said 'Legion'."
"General, I know of all the original Legions. There is NO Doom Lords Legion," he insisted adamantly.
"Yet, there they are."
The Thunderhawk was painted much like the battlebarge from which it had departed. It was flat black with red highlights and trim. The model was of the same vintage as those the Thousand Sons had come aboard on. The Space Marines that exited the transport were also wearing armor that was painted glossy, pitch black. Some of them had their right lower legs, or knee pad painted a blood red.
It was crucial that Horandrin and the rest got there to brief the other Thousand Sons. The hate and animosity was many centuries thick, and it showed. A very tangible silence swept over the hanger bay.
The lead Space Marine, who wore a Psychic Hood over his helmet, was quite obviously the Librarian Covan.
Covan was in a state of awe. He glanced around him, and saw only troops of the Thousand Sons. They were all standing, looking right back at them. But these were not the automatons that he'd fought before. No, these troops fidgeted, some sat, talked among themselves. From these 'men' he could sense thoughts and feelings. /How could this be?/ he wondered. He checked the emotions of his troops; they were confused and wary, more than anything.
"By the Emperor, tell me what is going on here," he entreated the eclectic leaders, almost startled at the loudness of his own vocalizer.
Harrington, whom had taken on a role as a middleman of sorts, was the first to peak up. "What does it look like, Librarian?"
"I'm not sure. They're aware. They're sentient... alive."
"Indeed, we are," affirmed Horandrin. "With a little help from our mutual friend," he jerked his head in the Shadow's direction.
"I see. So, then he freed you." Covan guessed.
"No, we freed ourselves," corrected Horandrin. "He merely gave us the means and opportunity."
Covan looked at the Shadow, so far the only being among them that he fully trusted. "It is true," the Shadow confirmed. "They are Tzeentch's henchmen no longer."
"Yet, I feel the tinge of chaos," observed Covan. "No, merely... a vestige... an aftertaste, if you will." He circled Horandrin, critically. He was studying him with both mind and eye.
Horandrin was well aware of what he was doing. He did not mind, for it was not unforeseen. He knew what Covan was speaking of. "Yes, such is the price we have paid. Our minds have been restored, but our bodies were not."
Covan's eyes blinked behind their lenses. He had not considered that aspect. "You are still incorporeal." It was not a question.
The Librarian looked about him for a moment longer, and laughed.
Everyone was caught off guard, and Harrington realized it had never occurred to him that Space Marines even knew how to laugh. As far as he knew, 'all work and no play' was one of their battle cries.
It was a joyous laugh, with not the slightest sound of ridicule. "By the Emperor's heart! This is extraordinary!" exclaimed Covan, perhaps too excitedly. "This is truly momentous! How many are you?"
Horandrin could not but help marvel at the Space Marine's enthusiasm. "Just over 250," he said with a mixture of pride and curiousity.
"Truly?" he said, amazed. He seemed to stumble on his words, half starting many, but not finishing any. He finally settled on, simply laughing some more. "I think I need to sit down."
"I couldn't have said it better myself," Kamerov said deadpan.
Horandrin, however, did not let himself get distracted from the issue at hand. "I'm curious. How is it that we stand here now, engaged in conversation rather than battle? Such is not the policy of the Adeptus Astartes."
Covan regained his composure instantly. "Indeed it is not, but we are not normal Adeptus Astartes." His voice seemed to hush and become far more serious, as if telling a great secret. "We are direct descendants of Space Marines exiled during the Horus Heresy. Are geen seed in very diverse, but we are of the Lords of Wrath and the Doom Guard, mostly."
Horandrin remembered the Legions. From all accounts, they disappeared after the Horus Heresy had ended. No explanation was ever given, it was always assumed they had simply... disappeared, literally.
"Those Legions rebelled with Horus," he informed them. "But when the Emperor was mortally wounded, and he lay in his own blood, we chose him over Horus. We came back to his light, and by his Forgiving Heart, he spared us. It is by his orders that we fled destruction."
It was an extraordinary tale, everyone knew that much without saying so. Never before had they heard, thought, or even dreamt of such a scene. It was scarcely believable , if not for the fact it came from the horse's mouth, so to speak.
Horandrin would have admitted that the story was one worthy of song and legend, but a single thought ruined his good humour. "Ironic that you should be forgiven for your sins, yet we, were condemned by our faith," he said bitterly. "We tried to warn the Emperor of the Heresy, and what we received in return was a planet, destroyed and a faith, shattered. Our brothers and the Emperor turned against us." Horandrin looked away from the Librarian as painful memories resurfaced. "After ten millennia, I still feel the shards."
Covan was silent, his head dipped. He reached up, pulled back his hood, and took off his helmet. It revealed a man with a sharp features, and a long face. His eyes however, were soft, for he sympathized with the man. He could feel the emotion, the pain. Many of the Thousand Sons shared that pain as well, memories of long ago still fresh in minds that had not aged.
Every fibre within Covan told him that it was the truth. He could only scarcely imagine what it had been like. To have been wronged so greatly, by he whom they had sworn their undying allegiance... it was a nightmare. "It is not my deed to apologize for, yet I feel I must. I understand now what must have driven you to chaos. And I think I do not blame you."
Horandrin, as well as everyone else, scarcely believed their hearing. The Librarian sympathized with him, offered words of understanding. "You do not blame us?"
Covan shook his head. "I do not. We would not. And the Emperor would not either. His vision is wide enough to see his own follies. He is not a god, as he is," he pointed to the Shadow. "He is a man, ascendant to godhood. And men make mistakes."
The sorcerer considered the words. They were comforting, if not somewhat idealistic. Could it be that the Emperor would forgive them? If not by his grace, then by his shame.
"We are followers of the Imperator Demittus," announced the Librarian, "the 'Forgiving Emperor'. It is through these beliefs we have remained true to ourselves, and to the Emperor's light. The Imperium of Man is merely an organization, for which we would not fit into. But the Emperor's grace is not limited to governmental loyalties."
Covan chuckled. "I sound like a chaplain don't I? Hmm, if Sister Severast were to find out, I'd never hear the end of it," he mused to himself.
"Sister?" Horandrin repeated, incredulously.
"Oh, I must have neglected that piece of information. An unforeseen side-effect of having such a... diverse genetic heritage is that our gene-seed works on women, as well."
"Will miracles never cease?" Tokugawa said shaking his head in disbelief.
"If you don't believe me..." he gestured to a space marine, who despite his formidable size, was a head shorter than Covan. The helmet was removed with a click-hiss, and it revealed a woman of strong features, with her hair cut down to the base of her skull and braided back.
Harrington rubbed his eye wearily. It was not out of disbelief, but out of sheer exhaustion. "I swear, I will need consoling after this. In the past week I have deserted my post, taken half of Minos Corva's military, rescued 250 Chaos Marines, met a god, and now I'm meeting a female space marine."
"Steady, sir, I'm sure things will calm down," said Kamerov, failing to sound convincing.
"These are strange times indeed," agreed Covan. "All the idealism in the galaxy could not have predicted what you've done," he said to Horandrin. "May I have the honour of your name?"
"Horandrin."
"Horandrin, you have done something extraordinary. You've brought your brothers forth from corruption. The Imperator Demittus teaches us that any who is willing can find forgiveness in the Emperor's eyes. We are proof. And I hope, that you will be as well." He smiled weakly. "The Doom Lords have fought many Traitor Marines, and each time, we give them the chance for redemption... I hope you will be the first to accept."
Horandrin was silent for many moments. As were the Thousand Sons gathered around them, for they anxiously waited for what Horandrin would decide. But it turned out, that he would not choose at all. "It is not my decision to make. These men," he gestured to the marine's all around him, men in spirit, not body, "chose to turn from Tzeentch. They chose me as their leader, and they chose to follow me. They must choose again."
Covan nodded, most respectfully. "A wise decision, nonetheless. We are, perhaps, an idealistic Legion, but we are not stupid. We hope for the best, and prepare for the worst, which is why we do not yet call you brothers... yet."
Horandrin nodded. "I understand. Perhaps-," he stopped in mid sentence, for he felt the air around him, charged with energy. The vast hanger seemed to double and slide out of focus. He knew this well, and judging Covan, who was slipping his helmet back on in haste, he knew as well.
"A boarding party!" he yelled. "The enemy is warping into the hanger!"
Horandrin, and his fellow marines, were ill prepared for battle. The Thunderhawks held most of their armament. Only Calderon, the hulking Dreadnought, was ready to fight.
Horandrin simultaneously watched the Thousand Sons scramble for weapons, while looking about the hanger for the ripple-effect that would signify the warp tunnel. "Hurry!"
He saw it. "There!" he said pointing into the corner of the hanger.
"I see nothing!" said Harrington, pistol drawn. It seemed to him that Horandrin pointed at empty air. A flash of light, and a company of Thousand Sons materialized into the hanger. At the head, was one very large sorcerer.
Harrington's witty quip was promptly drowned out by the deafening roar of over two hundred boltguns blazing.
---------------------------------
Dedicated to That Swedish Guy, because he rocks.
---------------------------------
A/N: The Doom Lords are the property of "That Swedish Guy" AKA Magnus Asblom. He presented me with his Space Marine Legion, and I was more than happy to find that it integrated seamlessly with the story. It was perhaps fate. Thus, a BIG thanks to That Swedish Guy and his awesome Doom Lords. BTW, points for anyone who knows what the battlebarge's name means. ;)
* A Note from That Swedish Guy *: "Ok, i know that many consider Space Marines to be male only and some claim there is something in the fluff texts about that. But i have never seen such a text, and i saw that there were female Space Marines in the original Rogue Trader line. Maybe they were what became the Sisters of Battle, i don´t know. Anyway, this is _my_ Legion, and _my_ background, so as long as i stay within the rules _you_ have no say. ;) Sure, some of the people you may meet in this story might not conform to standard rules, but those are "special characters", and as so is only in game when my opponent allows it. Anyway, i hope they inspire this story, and maybe even you, to go outside what GW has put up, and break out of the standard. Game on, read on, and above everything else... Have fun. Cheers!"
So there.
The Emperor's will commands you to review.
And so does Tzeentch... it's an unholy alliance, commanding you to review.