987.M41 Astral Winds Space Marine homeworld, Marus
Chapter Master Landon of the Astral Winds was frustrated. Beyond that, he was curious. For context, nearly half of the chapters number were psykers, including the chapter master himself, something that the Inquisition gave them no end of trouble over. As a result, many of them had an unnatural sense of awareness of the galaxy at large. Over the centuries, many of them had sensed and predicted moments of great distress for the Imperium, anomalies in the warp, or incredibly powerful psykers using their powers. They had sensed a great deal of that last one as of late.
It started when they saw a great white light within the warp, not as bright as the Astronomican, but enough to gain attention. But before anyone could pinpoint its location, it was snuffed out. This happened several times more, until a year ago, when they felt the light become active for a few hours. It was enough for them to get a rough area of where it was coming from, but nothing accurate.
And then the Inquisition got involved.
The chapter had been searching the area involved in the flash but had thus far come up empty-handed. It didn't help that they'd run into a dozen Inquisitors of the Ordo Hereticus searching the exact same area. Whatever had set off that flash had attracted the attention of one of the most bloodthirsty organizations in the Imperium.
"Chapter Master, to you intend to continue sending search fleets into that sector?" The Captain of the first company asked as they looked over a galactic map.
Landon eyed his brother, before turning his head to the last member of the meeting; Chief Librarian Alan, "Brother Alan, you have seen what I have. Do you believe it is worth the risk?" he asked.
The Librarian shook his head, "I do not know, Chapter Master. The warp is muddled, the future is uncertain. Even the Emperor's Tarot has become unreliable." he explained.
The Chapter Master sighed, his frustration growing the longer the situation went on. No matter what they did, they were never able to find the source of the light, nor were they able to figure out why there were so many damned inquisitors roaming around.
"Chapter Master, I may not share yours or Brother Alan's abilities, but I can see that were are treading on dangerous ground. We were already being watched by the Inquisition, and our interest in this sector is not doing anything to build up our relations with them." The First Captain explained.
"I am aware of this, brother Gallen. However, I still firmly believe that there is something out there, something that we need to find. If we come into conflict with the Inquisition… so be it."
First Captain Gallen stared at his leader as if he had gone mad, "Are you insane? We do not have the skill, reputation, or the numbers to go against the Bloody Inquisition! We are neither the Space Wolves nor the Black Templars, we have no hope of winning against them!"
"And that is why we will not. We will continue to avoid them if at all possible, provided they do not find the source of the light before we do. Besides, we would not be alone in going against the Inquisition. While our cousin's in the Black Templars deplore our very existence, I do not believe even you could forget our brotherhood with the Space Wolves." Landon said with a chuckle.
Gallen sighed, "Yes, yes, I am aware. I believe myself and a few others even have a running kill-count going." he said with a grin, his expression invisible beneath his helmet.
The Librarian laughed, "It is true. If we were to come to blows with the Inquisition, I believe we would find allies within our cousin's ranks."
"Regardless," Landon said, making an effort to change the subject, "Where do we go from here? We have three fleets in the sector already, the third, fifth and seventh companies ships scouring the sector."
"I believe I have an option, despite the risks it may involve," Alan stated, "There is a planet within the sector that neither we nor any Inquisitor we have come into contact with has even dared approach - Laphon I, a Necron tomb world."
Gallen scoffed at the Librarian's suggestion, "You think there would be anything there? It is avoided for a reason. The place is a death trap."
"I feel I must agree with Brother Gallen, why would the light come from a tomb world of all places?" he asked.
Alan shrugged, "It would make an excellent hiding spot, would it not? The majority of the Necrons on the world are inactive, it is only the larger and more dangerous ones that someone would have to worry about. It makes the planet near impossible to assault or colonize, but a single person perhaps?" he let the question hang in the air as if to goad his brothers into answering it for them.
Landon hummed in thought, thinking that maybe his friend might be onto something, "I do believe you are correct. Especially so if our target knows they are being searched for - the prospect of hiding out on a tomb world while the Inquisition goes on a manhunt is not an impossible venture."
Gallen nodded in agreement, "Yes, I see now. Even considering the planets sparse resources, it would not be difficult to scavenge for one person, mortal or otherwise."
"Then it is decided," Landon said, "Brother Captain Gallen, prepare the first company for departure. Librarian Alan, I suggest you send a message to the seventh company, let them return to our homeworld. Their numbers are low enough already, they do not need a conflict with the Necrons to cause even further casualties."
Both Astartes nodded, leaving to go finalize their assigned duties. Landon himself left the room, making his way to the fortress monasteries vaults. He planned to accompany his brothers to the planet of Laphon I, and he would not do so unprepared.
Opening the large doors that led to the inner vault, Landon glanced to the sides of the room as he walked through its halls. Weapons of ancient origin lined the walls, some even dating back as far as the Horus Heresy. Many among the chapter had forgotten the Chapters ancestry, their gene-father… their Primarch.
But not Landon.
He did not spread knowledge of the chapters ancestry, its history muddled and covered in lies and half-truths. Were the Inquisition to gain the knowledge of their heraldry, they would likely be declared heretics on mere principle. Landon knew that they would never be able to truly escape the curse of their Primarch, but had confided himself in taking their Primarch's name to his grave.
If there was no one left to remember their Primarchs name, then why would they feel the need to hide such a fact?
It still made his stomach churn when some of the younger recruits used the battle-cry 'For the Primarch!' without truly knowing the truth. He did not have the heart to tell them the truth, for if they knew, they would be thrown into a great depression at best or turn traitor at worst. Neither was a fate Landon wished for his brothers.
When he reached the end of the hall, he found himself standing in front of a tall, ancient door. Runes and symbols were carved into its ornate surface, cracks running through them displaying its age. Pressing the doors open, Landon watched as the lights in the room flickered on. The room was small, betraying the door's grandeur for a much smaller and simpler design.
Along the rooms walls were carvings depicting their Primarchs rise, struggles, victories, and fall. At the center of the room stood a set of ornate power armor, blue in color with gold accents and a golden faceplate. The war-plates design had long since been lost, only known to a few, most of whom had long since turned against the Imperium.
Achean pattern Mark Four power armor, designed and worn by the Thousand Sons legion during the days of the Great Crusade, and later, the Horus Heresy.
Its heraldry and color had long since been stripped by the tech-marines of the first generation of Astral Winds Astartes, now replaced by their own heraldry and color scheme. Landon stared up at the armor, wishing that such a piece of technology had not been built by traitors. It was said that their Primarch, Magnus the Red himself, had a hand in creating it.
Regardless, Landon put those thoughts behind him as the servitors he brought with him began stripping his power armor and preparing his new suit.
[-]
Nevha watched the streams of code flow through the great computers of her tomb world, scarabs hovering about repairing machinery or doing basic maintenance. A Spyder slowly floated by above her, searching for anything that might be in need of a more delicate touch. Their current project was finding a tomb world close by that had access to warp-inhibiting pylons and was outside Imperial surveillance.
The ancient Necron Technology was not the reason the search was going so slow, interestingly enough. No, it was the Imperial tech that was slowing it down. The glowing blue machines of the Necrons were more than capable of sifting through mountains of data at such speeds that put almost all else to shame. It was unfortunate, then, that the Imperial cogitators could only transport data so quickly.
The Cryptek had long since halted overseeing the data-transfer personally, growing bored with the unrefined and primitive human technology. Nevha herself stayed a bit longer, marveling at her races achievements. She idly noted that, had her life gone slightly differently, she might have become a Cryptek herself.
She had an odd fascination with technology, not curious enough to study it in-depth, but enough to pay attention to the Cryptek when he ranted about the tomb worlds structural integrity or the pains of having to re-design their Gauss weaponry to fit Human hands. Granted he was more than a bit over-dramatic, but it wasn't nearly enough for Nevha to command him to stop or anything.
She idly wondered why the Cryptek still served her at all. She had declared herself Phaerakh, in absence of anyone to defy her, so that might be the case. Still, she had no means to reward him, as he had access to all the technology and resources available to her. Perhaps it was because of this very fact that he was so willing to serve her, as she put very few restrictions on what he could and couldn't do.
Regardless, she figured it wouldn't be long until they found what they were looking for.
And she was right.
Not a moment before she began to consider leaving to go do something else, the massive computer dinged, letter her know that a candidate for their planet had been found. Looking over the document, she read over the Necron file first.
Average size and gravity well, supports primitive, non-sentient flora and fauna, oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, and best of all, over a dozen constructed pylons. Looking over the Imperial file, she noted the planets name - something her race never saw the point of.
Laphon I.
Evidently, the planet was largely avoided, due to large machines of Necron origin making it difficult, if not impossible to settle. Such a factor would be no trouble for Nevha. The planet in question had belonged to her dynasty, and even if her new designated title as Phaeron hadn't reached it yet, her newly forged credentials (courtesy of the cryptek) would allow her to bypass anything on the planets surface that might try and stop her.
"So, you found one?" She heard Gaz ask, the man walking into the room, eyeing the computer.
"Indeed. It should not be difficult for us to travel to, a day or space travel at most." she explained.
Gaz nodded, "Well, that's good. The cogboy almost had a heart attack when your machine stopped drawing data from the cogitator, whole thing started smoking," He said with a grimace, "Getting our tech to interface at all is a challenge. I don't think he'll be very grateful."
Nevha waved dismissively, "I am not asking him to be grateful, only that he avoid hindering us in any way." she offered.
Gaz shrugged, "Fair enough I suppose. So, when do we leave?"
"I must organize my forces, and I suggest you do the same. Should we come into contact with Imperial forces, my ships could hide out in the void, and it would be better if you handled them." she admitted.
"True. I'm not really sure what they'd think if they saw us working with you. How does a light cruiser sound? Should be enough to ferry a full regiment, plus some lighter armor." he offered.
"That will suffice. I can supply the heavier support, along with the necessary Canoptek components."
The two of them exited the processing room, discussing the upcoming mission. Logistics was something that Nevha would readily admit she was good at, as all Necron Overlords had to be.
[-]
"No, Kiara, that's not how it works." Michael said as he further explained his… odd, relationship with the former Exarch.
Kiara's little remark had made the situation extremely awkward, and Michael almost regretted telling her the stories he had. Princess Bride may be the best movie ever made, but telling such a story verbally was not a good way to introduce the little girl to the concept of romance.
Kiara scrunched up her nose, "True… it usually takes longer." she admitted.
Michael sighed as he buried his face in his hands, leaning on the now clean counter. After they had gotten over their embarrassment, they had agreed to clean up the mess before continuing the conversation any further. Michael was still reeling from Kiara's desire to call him dad, but he had mostly come to terms with the concept. It wasn't like he wasn't already in such a role.
Salah had disappeared early on to go get herself some proper clothing, before reappearing soon after wearing some of Michael's clothes. The cargo pants and t-shirt didn't exactly fit her lithe frame, but despite being loose and baggy it was better than being stuck in her underwear.
Salah chuckled at Kiara's antics despite them coming at her and Michael's own expense. While she did agree that no, they wouldn't be getting married anytime soon, she internally wondered what Michael's true opinion on her was. He was so unlike other humans, showing her compassion and lifting her up when she needed it.
"Look, can you just… not?" Michael asked, making Kiara giggle.
Michael sighed, but couldn't keep the grin that spread across his face when Kiara laughed. It warmed his heart to see her like that, and if it came at his own expense… well, he wasn't going to fight it.
"Alright Kiara," Salah started as she walked forward, "I think you'd better leave your father alone, he's blushing enough as is."
Kiara continued to giggle, "hehe, alright." she said, getting off her perch on the countertop.
Michael chuckled, "Alright, you head to your room while me and Salah chat."
Kiara complied, and when Michael turned to Salah, he nearly jumped out of his skin when she was standing mere inches from his face, "Dang it! Don't do that!"
Salah only giggled, "Alright, alright, I won't." she submitted.
Michael sighed, "So, what's with your whole… emotional collapse thing?" he asked.
Salah frowned, "Truth be told… I don't really know. You won our dual, and when I woke up… I guess it was enough of an emotional shock to… break my… war mask…" Her eyes went wide, "You broke my war mask…"
She brought a shaky hand to her face, her eyes blinking in realization, "I didn't think that was possible…"
Michael chuckled, "Goes to show just how much we humans can do, defying all logic and doing the impossible. Still, isn't that kind of a big deal?" he asked, "I mean, isn't that what makes you an Exarch?"
She nodded, "Yes, yes it was. I suppose I cannot return to being an Exarch now… not that I feel I would even want to."
"So… what will you do now?" he asked.
"I'm… not really sure, truth be told. I can't go back to being an Exarch, and I truthfully have no wish to even go back to being an Aspect Warrior. Having my mask on for so long… I've forgotten what it was like to go without it." she explained.
Michael shrugged, "I mean, now hear me out, you could go without a path."
Salah looked up at him, her eyes wide with alarm before he put his hands up in defense, "I said, hear me out! Look, the whole paths system you have set up was designed in lieu of the birth of she-who-thirsts when the Eldar were getting bored and… well… yeah, Bad Things™."
"But now, with everything being as grimdark as it is, I don't think it will matter. Heck, the entire Aeldari race could probably go pathless and not have to worry! That's not to say its a bad idea altogether, especially once the galaxy starts fixing itself, but we have bigger fish to fry at the moment."
Salah hummed at his explanation, seeing the logic in it. He was right in a sense, the paths were designed to keep their race from falling into the pitfalls that their kin had fallen into when their empire was at its highest; but now, they were barely surviving as a race, clinging to any hope they could find.
It was an interesting proposition, but Salah herself found it difficult to just abandon the way she had been raised. The paths had become the Eldar way of life, and it was not as simple as just not choosing a path. When an Aeldari chose a path, they chose their lifestyle, their personality, and their future. To just abandon such a thing was not something she considered lightly.
"I… I don't know if I could do that."
Michael shrugged again, "It's only one option, one that, admittedly, needs to be thought out more and probably needs to be discussed with someone a bit more knowledgeable on the subject than me." he admitted.
Salah nodded, "Thank you, then, I appreciate the suggestion at the very least."
Michael smiled and nodded, "Now, moving on to a more… delicate, subject: Since when did you become so physically affectionate?" he asked.
Salah blushed heavily, her cheeks turning a fiery red, "W-well, I…" she gulped, swallowing her nervousness down as far as possible, "You… you are the first person to ever show me compassion, instead of… pity."
Michael blinked, "Are… are you serious!?"
She looked into his eyes, the green of her own glazing over as she remembered the interactions with the rest of her race, "The rest of my people treated me with pity, rather than compassion. My status as Exarch was that of a doomed soul, never to be set into the Infinity Circuit once I died, my soul being too violent to be connected to it. There was respect, of course, the path of the warrior is something that warrants as much, but I was never in all my years as Exarch shown the compassion that you showed me."
"That is why I felt so… so comforted by you, by your presence." she said, wrapping her arms around herself with a shiver, "I want to feel that kind of compassion again…"
Michael reached forward, wrapping his arms around her once again. Salah sighed in satisfaction, "I don't want to sound needy or spiteful, but…"
"Say no more," Michael said, pulling her away just enough to look her in the eye, "You of all people need the care and compassion that, the more I come to realize, it seems only humans can provide. I don't know if that's due to what the old ones did when they designed your species, or if humans just use different emotions than you do, but I can say right now that if you need anything, and I mean anything, you come to me first alright?"
Salah nodded, before once again falling into Michael's embrace. They sat there for another few minutes, just sitting there basking in the presence of each other. Eventually they would need to get up and explain what had happened to Elirom, but for now, they could just sit there and hug.
[-]
AN: Fluff… me likes writing it. Anywho, the plot thickens even further, with the Astral Winds space marines actually getting involved! I've been waiting to get one of my homebrewed chapters involved, and now, I get to go all out! MWAHAHAHA!
Anywho, lemme know if you caught the bit of Irony involved with the Astral Winds, and tell me what you think of the chapters relic! What other secrets lie in the vaults of the Astral Winds?