It is the 41st Millenium. Amidst the distant stars there is only war. Countless legions march to slaughter in the name of the God-Emperor of Man. Beset on all sides by Xenos, Heretics, and worse, it is all Humanity can do to hold on, on countless battlefields upon worlds unnumbered. Amidst the defenders of Humanity, the Adeptus Mechanicus alone stride forth into the black void, seeking knowledge, striving to beat back the steady progress of entropy and decay.
Magos Explorators lead the servants of the Machine God in their Quest for Knowledge. Their Explorator Fleets plough through cold, empty tracts of the void, past dead worlds and extinguished suns in their search for artifacts of Humankind's lost past. They are amongst the most powerful forces in the Imperium, each fleet armed with the very best that the scions of the Red Planet possess.
And yet, the perils of the Empyrean can never be underestimated. Warp currents ebb and flow, defying the laws of material reality. Euclidean rules of geometry and space have no command over the roiling tides of the Immaterium. Indeed, time and causality itself are mere suggestions to those who dwell within the Warp.
An Explorator fleet pushes through, shielded from the horrors that dwell beyond by Geller shields and faith in the Omnissiah. They are formidable servants of Holy Mars, blessed by the Fabricator-General in their quest to recover fragments of an STC in the blasted expanse beyond the Halo Stars.
A ripple of unreality causes the lead warship to shudder. An Ark Mechanicus, the indefatigable power of the Mars Eternal is beyond reproach. Its mighty guns broker no challenge, and its proud machine spirit a divine reflection of the Machine God. Against the very tides of Hell itself however, the venerable dreadnought has no answer.
Something is changing in the Empyrean. Its currents, already unknowable, become impossible. Unreality itself twists and roils, the birthing pangs of some strange scheme. Powers beyond mortal comprehension strive to break what is already broken, and to make sense of the senseless.
A soundless sound echoes in the shallow deep. Paradoxical tides collide, opening rifts in unreality that lead to unfathomable destinations. Hell itself is coming apart. A vortex opens, and yet it is more like a dying star, raging and burning. The Mars Eternal seems to shift, it is both there and not-there, pulled and pushed towards a vortex that does not exist but still, ever on, draws the hapless ship towards its maw.
Other ships, naught but tadpoles in this ocean of unreality, turn to the distress of their mothership, accelerating. Physics mean nothing in this realm of nightmare. Ships quicken, and yet are pulled away from their target by currents unseen, carried off to locations unknown. Others simply vanish, swallowed by rifts that wink out of existence as soon as they materialize. A tremor rolls through the Warp, the birth and yet death of something profound and macabre.
The Mars Eternal is swallowed whole by the Warp anomaly. It is like it had never existed. Indeed, perhaps in this world, it never has.
In an instant, all is calm yet again. The storm breaks like a wave over the rocks of sanity, and the Empyrean, for a heartbeat, seems almost tranquil.
The Explorator fleet is gone.
Archmagos Vespasian Scipione-37 had little use for emotions. It had been almost twelve hundred Terran years since he had shed the weakness of the flesh and replaced the uncertainties and infirmity of the organic brain with the unfailing strength of steel and machine. What little remained of it within his vastly augmented system were compartmentalized, buried beneath whirring servos and neural implants, interfaces and databanks. He had not accessed those neurovaults in centuries. And yet now, he felt… what it was that he felt, he could not put a name on.
Cawl himself had charged Vespasian with the glorious honor of investigating reports of a possible STC fragment beyond the Halo Stars. Vespasian had departed from Holy Mars itself at the head of a Explorator Fleet that rivaled any of the Primarch's Indomitus Crusade Fleets. Resources that could have shored up a thousand embattled worlds had been diverted, gifted freely to the Explorator Dominatus. It would have been his finest, most glorious sacrament for the Machine God, to find and recover an STC fragment.
Calculations continued. Vespasian understood that freak Warp currents had always been a possibility. Indeed, they were to be expected, and accounted for. And yet, the one that had overcome his fleet had been beyond anything on record since the Age of Strife, before the coming of the Omnissiah. The Ruinous Powers must have foreseen his triumph.
"Repeat yourself, Navigator von Speeling."
The eerie figure of his Navigator huffed. The ornate blindfold drawn across his forehead almost seemed to be alive, patterns swirling across its pale lilac tapestry. Beneath it, something writhed and bulged.
"Lord Archmagos. I am certain. We are in another Universe, or some sector of space so removed from Holy Terra that the light of the Astronomicon can no longer be seen. I believe the former to be the more likely explanation. Wherever we are, the Empyrean is calm, unlike anything I or my House have seen. The Ruinous Powers and the Neverborn do not rule here."
Vespasian pondered upon this revelation. A different universe. His cogitators had already examined and calculated the probabilities of each likely explanation for the current predicament, arriving at a near certain conclusion. It was either the Navigator was correct in his assessment, and they had been dimensionally displaced through the Warp into a different universe all together, or they had experienced a temporal displacement of such incredible magnitude that the Navigator, for all intents and purposes, may as well have been correct.
Either possibility was not good news for the Archmagos.
Around him, the various officers and commanders of his Explorator Fleet murmured and quibbled, consternation growing. The statement from the Navigator had shaken them, that was for certain. Vespasian's subroutines duly noted each and every one of the figures within the room.
Fleetmaster Idis Astelleon. Nominally from the Basilikon Astra, Vespasian's naval commander. There were few visible cybernetic augments upon her mortal frame, little to belie her age, or the fact that she had served Vespasian for close to three centuries. She had never failed the Archmagos, and she did not intend to begin now.
Tech-Priest Dominus Zamander-12. Master of the Legiones Skitarii, his mechanical form towered above any of the unaugmented humans around the room. He had chosen his war-form for this meeting, a subtle message not lost on Vespasian. Around him gathered the Praetor Electrolids of the Electro-Priesthood, as well as the Tech-Priests of his Battle Congregations.
Princeps Senioris Arcturus. Master of the Warlord Titan Bellum Aeterna, representative of the Collegia Titanica, he was the commander of the Titan Maniple from Legio Tempestus that had sworn themselves to the fulfilment of Vespasian's holy duty. He merely watched now, eyes sharp, seemingly unperturbed - a fact that was unsurprising. The master of a Warlord Titan had little to fear, even in a different universe.
A single figure stood silently, motionlessly at the rear of the bridge, wrapped in shadow. His power armor whirred, pauldrons of burnished, midnight ceramite gleaming in the light of alien stars. Brother-Sergeant Erasmus, a Sword Brethren of the Black Templars. His Crusade Squad carried a warrant from the Fabricator-General of Mars himself, tasked with the completion of Vespasian's sacred quest. Vespasian had contemplated what order of gift the Adeptus Mechanicus had given to secure the support of such august Astartes. Whatever it was, Vespasian was pleased by their presence.
"Fleetmaster. Report on Crusade naval integrity."
Idis straightened herself.
"The Mars Eternal itself has reported negligible damage sustained during our exit from the Warp. Thus far we have established vox contact with three of our fleet's ships. The Cruiser Basilisk, and the two Destroyers Ferrum-13 and Helios-74. Of course, this is barely a fraction of our intended Crusade strength, however, with Mars Eternal at full capacity, we yet have the ability to prosecute any manner of naval campaign."
Idis' report was concise and sharp, with little fanfare. Vespasian internally concurred with her assessment, cogitators continually updating. With the Ark Mechanicus-class warship, his flagship, he still possessed the most powerful singular naval asset in the Milky Way. There was no Xenos or Heretic, in this universe or the next, that could stand against the might of Blessed Mars.
"Zamander."
"Archmagos. Only the battle congregations of the Mars Eternal to call upon. Total combat efficiency stands at 32.526%. The loss of our forge-ships renders protracted crusade difficult. Priority, establish new base of sacred production."
Vespasian clicked, acknowledging the report from his Dominus. Indeed, with only the forces carried aboard the Mars Eternal, prosecuting a system-wide ground campaign would be arduous, if not impossible. Undoubtedly, the martial prowess of the Legiones Skitarii surpassed regular guardsmen, but in this unknown situation, Vespasian could not be careful enough.
Unbidden, Arcturus spoke.
"Our machine spirits are restless, Archmagos. Bellum Aeterna desires war."
"You will have war, Princeps. Our blessed Auspex reveals Xenos in all directions. They fill the stars with their foul presence. But you must have patience. We must have more data." Vespasian assured the Princeps.
[ Comprehension is the Key to All Things ]
The 7th Universal Law was sacred, in all places. The Machine God, giver of knowledge, had called Fleet Scipione to this universe for a divine purpose, this much Vespasian knew. Here, far from the Imperium and blessed Mars, was a Universe dark and unknown. He was a Magos Explorator, bearer of the Machine God's light. This was no different from arriving in a distant system, untouched by the Omnissiah's blessing, and his ancient protocols stirred with new life.
It opened up before him now, cyber-neurons firing. Plans within plans formed, and yet first he needed certainty. He would first discover the nature of the Universe that he had found himself in, gather data and understanding, seek comprehension. Comprehension was the key to all things, and the beginning of divining the Machine God's will. No doubt, he would carry out that Will, in his Universe or this.
Qui-Gon Jinn sensed a disturbance in the Force. It was hard not to. He turned, but Obi-Wan had obviously sensed it, from the distress on his face.
"Master! I -"
"Calm, Obi-Wan. Fear is not the answer."
Qui-Gon intoned sagely, fighting down his own fear from rising. Something had just happened that had altered the Force in its entirety. He had felt disturbances before, like ripples on the surface of a pond. This was… this was as if a volcano beneath the pond had erupted and destroyed everything in a kilometers radius. The Force itself was different. It had ever been a tranquil, calm ocean, bringing peace and serenity. Now waves roiled and crashed against his senses, and it was hard to remain centered. No doubt the council would be meeting at that very instant to ruminate upon this.
"Remain focused upon the task at hand, Obi-Wan." His smooth voice soothed his apprentice. The young man flinched, nodding. It was far more difficult for his young padawan to remain in control without the control that years of experience brought. Qui-Gon reached out, steadying his apprentice with a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Yes Master."
The room was still empty, and Qui-Gon glanced about. The Trade Federation Envoys had yet to arrive to discuss terms regarding the blockade of Naboo, and the stillness was becoming alarming.
"How do you think the Trade Federation will deal with the Chancellors demands?" Obi-Wan muttered, gazing out of the viewport absently to distract himself. Beneath them, Naboo glittered, a paradise world in cold space.
"These Trade Federation types are cowards. The negotiations will be short" Qui-Gon quipped with a confidence he did not feel. Something was very wrong. The blockade of Naboo had been ongoing for the better part of several months now, and they had thus far resisted the diplomatic pressures that Valorum had brought to bear. That the Jedi Order had seen fit to mediate in the dispute was enough to show its importance.
Qui-Gon could not help but wonder if the disturbance in the Force was related to the warnings that Yoda had spoken of, of the Dark Side and gathering clouds. Shaking his head, he took his mind off such musings, heeding his own advice. That was a matter for Yoda and the Council. He was here on a mission, to resolve the blockade of Naboo peacefully.
He felt the deaths of his shuttle crew before the faint tremors reached the negotiation room, and in an instant he knew that peace was not an option. Obi-Wan, already on edge, leapt to his feet, lightsaber bursting out before him. Qui-Gon, only a step behind, ignited his own emerald blade.
"Dioxis" He grunted, paying little heed to the thick, opaque gas that poured through the vents. It would do little to a Jedi. The Force was still in throes of distress, and he found no use in drawing upon it to calm himself.
No matter. He was still a Jedi, the most highly trained and disciplined of combatants in the Galaxy. He drew upon decades of experience, steeling himself for the conflict to come.
Obi-Wan turned to him, making eye contact, and Qui-Gon nodded once. Together, the master and apprentice moved.
Above Naboo, hundreds of Trade Federation landing ships descended, each carrying complements of Battle Droids, supported by heavy armor and artillery. It was a full scale military operation, an invasion, one that peaceful Naboo was simply not prepared to deal with.
Padme Amidala Naberrie, elected Monarch of Naboo, was incensed.
"What do you mean we can't do anything?" She demanded, temper flaring.
"Your highness, we simply do not have the men, or the equipment to resist. What little security forces we do have have been mobilized and drawn back to the capital, to protect the palace and the royal family." Sio Bibble blabbered. The man was pale, obviously stressed, unprepared for the burden that had been laid upon him.
"What about our people? We cannot abandon them to the Trade Federation!" She exclaimed.
"My Queen, the Trade Federation is playing politics. They are here to pressure the Galactic Senate into withdrawing legislation, not to conquer or eradicate our people." Bibble said.
"And what guarantees do we have that they will treat our citizens humanely? The Trade Federation is not known for their humanitarian track record, Governor." Padme spat.
Captain Panaka interjected.
"My Queen, the Governor, unfortunately, is right. Regardless of how we feel, we cannot stop the Trade Federation from occupying our planet. We must ensure that you escape to the Senate to appeal for aid." Panaka said hurriedly, glancing at out of the windows of the throne room. Around him, several of his security officers fingered blasters nervously. Naboo was not a warlike society, and it had never been. Their people loved art, and nature, and relied of diplomacy and trade. War was anathema to their culture.
Padme bitterly noted that this was likely the reason why the Trade Federation had chosen Naboo for blockade and invasion. The cowardice of the Galactic Senate had done little to dissuade them.
"Is this really how things are? The strong come and take what they want, and the weak suffer what they must? I will not have it, Quarsh." Padme's voice still carried the regality of her station.
An explosion from the outer courts rocked was heard, a dull thump that caused chandeliers to shake and tapestries to shudder. The sound of blaster fire, so alien, never before heard in such volume in the courts of the Naboo Royal Palace echoed, as did the screams and shouts of dying men.
Panaka grimaced.
"They are here, your Highness. We must leave at once!" The Captain grabbed Padme's arm, turning to leave, only to be interrupted by his comlink.
"Sir! Captain Panaka! The droids, they're already through the outer walls! They have armor, air support, there's nothing we can - " The soldier was cut off by an explosion.
The doors to the Throne Room exploded inwards, blown apart by heavy blaster fire. Panaka's security detail immediately opened fire through the smoke, but were cut down by precise and accurate volleys.
Droidekas stormed through the breach, with Battle Droids moving in close formation behind. The Queen and her party were quickly surrounded.
"Please. Do not make this more difficult than it has to be, Your Highness."
The oily voice of Nute Gunray was heard. The Nemoidan stepped through the blasted remains of the door, sniffing haughtily at the strewn corpses of the Nabooian Security Forces.
"This cannot stand, Viceroy. The Chancellor will see the Federation destroyed for this!" Padme, ever fearless even in the face of her own death, spat acididly.
"The Chancellor will do no such thing. Even his Jedi have failed. The Trade Federation has won, your Highness. Please, follow me."
"I have truly never seen such a thing, Archmagos. The Warp... it is but an ocean to be sailed upon. The currents... you cannot understand." The Navigator spoke reverently, awe in his tone.
Vespasian never knew members of the Navis Nobilitae to be humble creatures. von Speeling was an arrogant, proud man, and the Archmagos decidedly did not like this version of him.
"Answer me, Navigator von Speeling. Can you guide us through the Empyrean?" Vespasian asked, leaning in.
"Can I? Archmagos, I can see... I can see everything! The Warp is laid bare before me! To jump from Holy Terra to Luna would be of little challenge, such is the ease of navigation now!"
At this, Vespasian allowed his cogitators to relax. This was a fortuitous development. Not only was Warp Travel possible in this new Universe, it appeared that he had gained a strategic advantage hitherto unknown to the Imperium. The Warp was treacherous at the best of times, back home. Precision to within a million kilometers was incredible, an advantage worth sacrificing worlds for. Here, it appeared he could jump to pinpoint positions in space - and time. According to the Navigator, the Warp itself was calm, and the Ruinous Powers did not rule here. The Neverborn did not haunt the Warp, hungering for each vessel that lept through.
Not that he would risk disabling his Geller Field whilst in transit.
Vespasian gathered his thoughts, neural servos activating. They had gathered the remnants of his fleet, now adrift in a cohesive pattern. His fleet captains had reported little damage to their vessels, as well as similar accounts of the becalmed Warp. Already, deep within the manufactorums of the Ark Mechanicus, production had begun, churning out weapons of war in preparation for conflict.
Mars Eternal was equipped with the most powerful Auspex arrays known to Mars. This was given, considering the nature of his search for the STC fragment. It now allowed him to search and scan deep space, gathering precious, holy data. Each byte of new information was a balm to his soul, fresh understanding of a new universe. The Machine God would be pleased.
And yet, everywhere they scanned, they found Xenos upon Xenos, in their teeming trillions, scattered across in every direction. They were not the Orks, nor were they the cursed horrors of the Tyranid scourge. Instead, new, unknown, yet equally foul species of xenos were identified. Most abhorrent of all, it appeared that these Xenos coexisted relatively peacefully, in cooperation. Xenos were antithetical to everything humanity stood for. They were the alien, unclean, and only merited destruction. Vespasian would bring this destruction.
He sensed the approach of another Tech-Priest. He did not acknowledge her presence.
"My Lord Archmagos. I bring another report from the Auspex."
"Commence, Vala."
The Magos Genetor nodded, adjusting the trim of her robe. One of Vespasian's subroutines scanned the young acolyte. She was a new addition to the congregation of Tech-Priests aboard Mars Eternal. Barely two centuries old, she had joined the Explorator Fleet at the recommendation of her master, a famed Archmagos Biologis upon Mars. She showed great promise, and some eccentricity.
Vala nodded. By Martian standards, she was almost human in appearance. Her lower carriage was still bipedal, though cybernetic, and she still allowed raven hair to grow atop her scalp. Her features were sculpted flesh, with an aquiline nose and high cheekbones, though Vespasian could feel the blessed augments churning beneath the bionic skin.
"We have discovered human signatures, my Lord."
Vespasian turned, every subroutine coming to a stop. The full, undivided attention of an Archmagos Dominatus now rested upon the young tech-priest before him.
"Elaborate."
"Our auspex intercepted communications broadcasted from this planet. Unencrypted. It seems this... Naboo, is inhabited by what appears to be humans."
A mechadendrite extended from beneath her crimson robes, before splitting open to project a hologram.
"This is Queen Padme Amidala, of Naboo. The Trade Federation has assaulted our planet, and blockaded our communications. I send this in desperation. They have occupied our cities, and incarcerated our people. Please, if anybody can receive this, send word to the Galactic Senate. We require aid. Our people are suffering." The hologram flickered, showing scenes of war. It ended with a shakily shot scene, a fish-like xenos entering what appeared to be a throne room, flanked by what appeared to be battle constructs. The message cut off there, a still shot of the xenos invader. Static burst, before the message began anew.
Vespasian was still.
[ Suffer Not The Xenos To Live ]
Hatred filled the ancient Archmagos. It was unbecoming, but hatred all the same.
"It appears, Genetor Vala, that everywhere we turn, the song of Humanity is the same."
Vala did not answer him, merely withdrawing her mechadendrite.
Vespasian turned, slowly, ominously. Servos whined, metal creaked. When he spoke, his artificial voice was no longer clean and sterile. It was hate-filled. Many accused the Mechanicus of losing sight of their humanity with each piece of flesh and blood they exchanged with steel and circuit. Many amongst the unwashed masses of the Imperium saw them as more machine than man, detached and distant from humanity and its suffering.
In that very moment, Vespasian could not have felt any more human.
"We have beseeched the Machine God for our purpose amongst these foreign stars, and he has spoken. Fleetmaster Idis, prepare for warp transit."