My apologies for the long delay...the story has gotten to the point where my ideas has actually gone way ahead of my actual writing...
I'd also like to apologise for this shortness of this chapter...I know it's not what you'd be expecting after nearly a month-long hiatus.
Answers to some reviews -
Someone asked if using an entire Legion to pacify an Ork Waagh was a bit of an overkill...I'd like to point out it took some 8 million Imperial Army soldiers, an unstated amount of Mechanicum forces, 14 Legions (around 100, 000 Astartes), 9 Primarchs and the Emperor himself to break an Ork Waagh during the Ullanor Crusade. The Imperial forces were still outnumbered around 10 to 1. The Storm Eagles number 40, 000 Astartes tops and have about 3-4 million Imperial Army detachments spread throughout their Legion. The Ork horde attacking Tyron Prime alone numbers 10 million. So I'd say no...not quite an overkill.
ReadyFred-ReadyGeorge - Thank you for your kind words. In answer to your question, this fic for the most part follows the order of Primarchs' discovery as released by Black Library EXCEPT in the case of Hayreddin and Corax.
!SPOILER ALERT!
According to Deliverance Lost, the Lost Primarchs were already 'Lost' by the time Corax was discovered, so I'll be holding to that. Whether Corax will actually appear in this fic...I'd rather not give out anything that can be seen as spoilers.
!SPOILER ALERT END!
The Great Blaze of War
Prior to the unification of Tempestas by Thorondor, much of the planet's communities lived in partial isolation due to the difficulties in travel and communication caused by the Eternal Storm. As a result, each community tended to be very close-knit, where everyone knew each other as well as their own families, working together for the survival and betterment of their community.
Even after the unification of the planet, the people of Tempestas continued to live by the same principle, only their goals have changed.
Rather than working together for the betterment of their own community, the people of Tempestas worked together for the betterment of their homeworld and the Imperium of Man.
That same culture had been brough into the Storm Eagles of Tempestas. Outsiders have observed that the warriors of the Second Legion were much more close-knit compared to the other Legions, save perhaps the Wolves of Fenris. Rivalries existed of course, such as the unspoken competition between Asghar and Gwaine, but the Storm Eagles as a whole formed bonds with each other beyond that seen in most Legions.
Not only that, many of the Legion's warriors have also formed bonds with other warriors from other Legions. Many individual Storm Eagle have formed close friendships with warriors from the Sixth Legion, due to both Legions' long history of working side by side. Asghar himself was known for his friendships with Gunnar Gunnhilt, Jarl of the Vlka Fenryka's Onn Company, as well as Merir Astelan, Chapter Master of the First Legion and Lhorke, Legion Master of the War Hounds. Gwaine has been noted to form close bonds with various members of other Legions, including the recently-met Raldoron of the Blood Angels. Above all, the Primarch Thorondor was noted to get along best with all his brothers.
Perhaps it was the closeness between the Storm Eagles that allowed them to fight so well; their coordination was borne of decades of harsh training, but there was more to it than that. They were different from the perfect coordination of the Emperor's Children, or the textbook precision of the Ultramarines and the Imperial Fists. There was something instinctive about the way they fought, something borne of their trust within each other.
Even now, on Tyron, despite the tide of battle turning against them, Mika Vukona could see something in the way that the Storm Eagles fought. Something that defied his understanding. Perhaps it was the joy he could see on their faces and hear in their voices. To Vukona, the situation was dire; the Orks were surging forward, threatening to overwhelm the defences despite suffering heavy losses, but the Storm Eagles continued to fight with savage joy, as though victory was all but certain.
The sun was rising again, marking the beginning of the second month since the Eleventh Legion had been joined by the Second, and rose like fire, brightening the day quickly...
Much too quickly.
Vukona looked northwards, where the defences were led by Azan. The sky was bright in that direction, unnaturally so. As he watched, the light grew even brighter, causing his lens visor to adjust its filters to maintain visibility, and he saw it coalasce into a lance of energy that struck down upon the Ork horde. The blast was many leagues away from Tyron Prime, but it was still blinding, the roar deafening and the impact caused even the defenders to stagger despite the distance. Before the shuddering from the first lance had even begun to dissipate, Vukona saw more lances of energy firing down from the sky onto the Ork horde, far away, but each one caused an earthquake.
Mika Vukona had never been planet-side to witness one, but he recognised it for what it was: an orbital bombardment from an Imperial Fleet.
After about two minutes, the bombardment ceased, leaving a ringing silence that must have encompassed the entire planet. Both the human defenders and the xenos were stunned by the unexpected bombardment to the point that the fighting had ceased, at least for the moment.
Moments later, there were fiery streaks across the sky and this time, Vukona's hearts leaped at sight. He recognised them at once; drop-pods. They streaked down over to the area where the orbital bombardment had taken place, out of sight of the defenders. The arrival of the pods seemed to ignite a fire within the defenders, and with a resounding roar, they brought the battle to the xenos.
Caught off-guard, vast swathes of Orks fell, but the beasts, displaying the resilience, hardiness and stubborness that they were renowned for, recovered and fought back fiercely. Before long, the battle became a deadlock once more, but morale was soaring for the defenders.
"Captain Azan!" voxed Vukona over the din of battle. "What's the plan now?"
"The same it's always been, Legion Master," came Azan's reply. "We dig in and hold; draw the xenos attention away from our reinforcements."
II II II
The ocean blue drop-pods struck the scorched earth with the force of a missile. Such a landing would have broken the bones of any man on board, but for an Astartes, the worst they would suffer was a mild shock.
The orbital bombardment had cleared the area of Orks, allowing the Space Marines of the Second Legion to deploy. These particular warriors wore the ocean-blue power armour of their Legion and their storm-grey shoulder plates bore the ancient insignia of the Thunder Warriors, but they also bore one additional mark; a sphere surrounded with jagged lines etched on their breastplate where the primary heart of the Astartes was located. The mark was a crude depiction of Tempestas, enshrouded by the Eternal Storm and only the warriors of the Storm Eagles' First Company were permitted to carry it.
Asghar, former Legion Master and First Captain swiftly barked out the necessary orders for his warriors to secure the area for further deployment. As his warriors moved to obey, Asghar surveyed the area; the Orks still hadn't rallied (if they even knew how) to attack the new arrivals.
Above, Stormbirds bearing more troops were already entering Tyron's atmosphere, along with Mechanicum transport ships bearing their war machines.
The solid crunch of ceramite boots on blasted surface drew Asghar's attention.
The approaching Astartes wore the tempest-grey power armour of the Space Wolves, his armour bore runic etchings and all-manner of fetishes, denoting his high rank within the Vlka Fenryka. His helm was attached to his by mag-lock, revealing a grizzled face with grey hair, and a grin that revealed his sharp canines.
Asghar inclined his head in greeting. When the Second Legion sent out calls for any other Legion to join their muster, two of the Great Companies of the Sixth Legion had answered the call: Tra and Fyf Companies. When Asghar had been chosen to lead the first drop onto the surface, the Jarls of Tra and Fyf, Gedrath Gedrathsa and Amlodhi Skarssen Skarssenson had insisted on joining in with their Companies. The Storm Lord had granted permission with his usual good humor.
"Asghar," greeted Gedrath.
"Gedrath," returned Asghar. "You know what to do?"
"Of course we do," answered the Fenrisian, a growl in his voice. "The question is, are you going to let us do it?"
The Jarl and his warriors were clearly raring to go; their whole body language was akin to wolves straining at their leashes, longing to attack.
Asghar shook his head. "Wait for the Imperial Army support teams to land."
Gedrath snorted but acquiesed. That was good, Asghar had expected him to argue the case. He turned his attention to the landing Mechanicum transports and voxed them their instructions.
In the space of twenty minutes, they had already established a fortified make-shift command centre; by then the Orks had rallied and were already charging towards them from all directions. The new arrivals soon found themselves locked in battle.
Asghar led the defences from the command centre, keeping his battle-hunger in check with ease, allowing his mind to remain clear as he took in reports and gave out instructions.
"I have to say, Asghar, this isn't like you," Gedrath voxed him, the din of battle in the background from where the Jarl and his men fought. "This spot is not particularly defensible."
"You sound like you're enjoying yourself, though," answered Asghar wryly, signalling an order with to his officers with a hand.
There was a bark of harsh of laughter over the vox. "You're the tactical type, Asghar. You wouldn't drop in right in the middle of an enemy horde; you'd find a better place to dig in first. Though, this makes a nice change." There was a brief grunt and what sounded like an axe swinging. "This was the Storm Lord's plan, aye?"
Asghar smiled. "Yes, it was."
"I assume he has his reasons for sending us into a spot surrounded by enemies?"
"What's the matter, Gedrath? The battle too hot for your liking?"
Another long bark of harsh laughter.
In truth, Asghar had argued against the Storm Lord's decision - in private of course, not in front of the Wolves - but somehow, all of his rational and well-thought-out arguments had been rendered meaningless in front of the Primarch. As always, Thorondor had asked Asghar to trust him, and as always, Asghar did.
That did not mean however, that he found his current predicament any more appealing. Out in the open, with only several miles of makeshift fortified walls several metres thick standing between him and a horde of angry xenos charging from every direction; it was a tactical nightmare.
But Asghar trusted his Primarch - more than that, Asghar had faith in him.
II II II
Stormbirds descended into Tyron's atmosphere; their metallic hulls easily withstanding the fiery entry, protecting the Astartes warriors within. The massive vessels the Stormbirds were protecting however, bore a different sort of cargo.
There were three of them, each the size of a Mechanicum ship used to transport Titans planetside. But these had been modified to serve a new purpose with the help of tech-priest Oric Halcum.
The Storm Birds swooped down to clear the targeted landing zone of anything that could possibly threaten the three ships. Moments later, the three vessels landed like towers, crushing thousands of Orks under them and kicking up a great dust storm in all directions. Even still, the storm failed to conceal the three vessels which loomed like skyscrapers over the landscape. For a moment, the xenos stared stupidly, then they recovered and hurled themselves at the ships, trying to scale them.
Gun turrets on the sides of the ships opened fire to hold the xenos off, buying time for them to deploy their true weapons.
The top most part of the three ships slid open; forming numerous platforms along its sides.
The Storm Riders emerged from those platforms.
They took off together, rising above battle on their Storm Eagles, circling the area. Rising among them was a Storm Eagle far larger than any of them: Garuda, the mount of the Storm Lord. The other Storm Eagles gave the titanic eagle a wide berth, out of fear and respect for his position as the dominant male.
Yet even the mighty Storm Eagle's magnificence was not able to surpass his rider. Unlike the Storm Riders flying around him, Thorondor the Storm Lord chose to forego his battle-helm; allowing his long ebony hair to billow in the wind. His armour, the same ocean-blue as his Legion was as battle-scarred as theirs, but was lovingly and excellently maintained, so that it shone despite the blemishes. His grey eyes swiftly surveyed the battlefields below, his sharp mind, with the processing capabilities more akin to supercomputers rather than human, quickly identified the target points that he and his Captains had discussed in the earlier war council.
"Gwaine?" said Thorondor into the vox-bead built into his armour's gorget.
"Yes, my lord?" returned the Lightning Rider.
"Are you prepared?"
"Yes, awaiting your orders, lord."
"Let's begin, then. As one beneath the Storm, brother."
"As one beneath the Storm, my lord."
As quick as thought, the Storm Riders split into four smaller armies, each one flying well above the range of any Ork weapons. The Storm Lord let an army to the north, Gwaine led an army to the south, while two other senior Storm Riders let an army to the east and west respectively.
Above, the rest of the Storm Eagles were making planetfall.
II II II
Upon seeing the Storm Riders deploying and with the rest of his Legion inbound, Asghar began to mobilise his company. Knowing the Third Company would be setting down at the command post along with a large portion of the Imperial Army detachment, his company prepared to move north to provide ground support for the Storm Lord.
His vox receiver chimed again.
"Now?" Gedrath's impatient voice came.
"Let the Imperial Army detachment land -"
"They can catch up."
"Gedrath -"
"Sorry Asghar, can't hear you."
The Space Wolf terminate the vox connection. Moments later, the entirety of Tra surged southwards towards Tyron Prime. Asghar swore irritably; at least the Wolves were headed in the right direction. He voxed a set of instructions for the Imperial Army detachments and Captain Razek of the Third Company before turning his attention northwards once more.
The First Company began to force open a bloody path through the Orks.
II II II
The Storm Eagles of Tempestas had a reputation for being more approachable compared to the other Legions. With few exceptions, most of the Legion's warriors had good, or at the very least, cordial relationship with their mortal counterparts and brothers from the other Legions.
They were also considered to be one the more even-tempered Legions. Despite their tendency for reckless actions, they had none of the alarming beligerence of the Space Wolves, the cold disdain of the Iron Hands nor the smug superiority of the Emperor's Children. Many viewed that the Storm Eagles as one of the saner and even friendlier Legions, waging war out of duty for the greater good of Mankind.
While that was true, there was another, and far less altruistic truth.
The Storm Eagles loved war.
They loved the comradery forged and strengthened in its flames, the adrenaline that rushes through their veins, the sight of their brothers marching or soaring in a single unified purpose and the rush of victory.
To the Storm Eagles, wars waged against the civilisations of Mankind was something of contradiction. While they loved the blaze of war, they hated the taking of human lives; though they might take pleasure in the victory, deep down, they all felt guilt at their deeds as an addict attempting to recover might feel guilt at relapsing.
Against the xenos however...
To the Storm Eagles, there were no wars purer than the ones waged against the alien filth that infested the galaxy. These were the undisputed enemies of Mankind, forever seeking to harm and undermine humanity. They were not human, and therefore deserved no humane treatment. It was during these wars where the Second Legion truly allowed themselves to let go, to fully enjoy the great blaze of war.
It manifested in them in different ways.
Asghar felt it in the sharpening of his senses, the clarity of his thoughts, the almost supernatural way he saw the battle unfold like an artificial simulation as he led his warriors north, carving a bloody path through the Orks.
Ancient Adalgrim felt it in the way his old, too-human bones ceased their aching, as if decades had lifted from his body; the way he felt as if he was a young warrior again, doing battle on the jagged cliffs of Tempestas. That his bones would ache worse once the battle had ended was irrelevant, a minor irritant as the old warrior immersed himself in the battle.
Azan felt it in the way his blood burned through his veins; threatening to break through his usually stoic demeanour. He felt it in every swing, as though his already genetically-enhanced strength was enhanced tenfold. He felt it in the fierce pride that blazed in his hearts as he saw his warriors worked together in perfect coordination.
Gwaine felt it in the way as a soaring sensation as he led his warriors through the sky, looking down upon the multitudes of Orks as though they were nothing more than a school of fish just waiting for the soaring predators to dive in their midst. He felt it in the way his very being was attuned to Deor, his mount. He felt it as if the Eternal Storm itself was rumbling in his heart.
Though Mika Vukona did not feel it himself, he could sense it in the Storm Eagles fighting alongside him. It was in their stance, in the energy of their swing, the surety of their aim, and the light-heartedness in their voices. Though he was something of a pessimist, Vukona could not help but smile at the sight and feel a ray of hope.
Thorondor felt it in the way his mind and senses, already enhanced far beyond any mortal and Astartes, was heightened even further; he felt the heartbeat of Garuda, felt every nuance and twitch as the Storm Eagle flew on, he saw the battlefield unfold before him like a great ocean, the ebb and flow of the tide like an open book for him to read. He felt the entire war hanging in a delicate balance, how the lives of his warriors and the people of Tyron rested in his hands.
Such a responsibility would have frightened anyone, but Thorondor was not afraid, he was beyond fear. As his eyes scanned the battlefield below, his mind was focus on one thing alone: finding the battle where victory would be decided.
And when he found it, the Storm Lord would plunge fearlessly into the great blaze of war.
Notes:
Gedrath Gedrathsa - Jarl of Tra (mentioned in Prospero Burns)
Amlodhi Skarssen Skarssenson - Jarl of Fyf (appears in Thousand Sons and Prospero Burns)
I hope you enjoyed that. Now unfortunately, I have some bad news. After a month-long hiatus...I'll be taking another long hiatus for work and also to work further on this fic. I already have several future chapters in draft form, so hopefully I'll have them up soon.
This fic will not remain unfinished..I promise all of you that.