LOVEHAMMER: The Scattering of Serenity
Wolves on the Edge
part one
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It had been but a few days since the Emperor found Serenity. The Emperor was terrified. It had been too long since he experienced such a base emotion. He'd been idly mingling in a reception with the new ruling class over Terra, establishing the ties that would enable self-sufficient rule when he would leave the homeworld later in his conquest of the galaxy, when he felt the enormous burst in the Warp. Lesser psykers in the palace collapsed, numbed from the evocative fear. The Emperor frowned, and pulled with his psychic presence. Instantly his armor appeared in flash of golden light and settled around his form. His being glowed with godly might and with a crack of air he teleported to the Imperial Creche thirty kilometers distant and nine kilometers higher.
For all her power that equaled his, his new daughter Serenity was ridiculously fragile as an infant. All the possibilities, the vast net of new opportunies her existence provided, would crash in the multitude of small thing that could end her life at such a vulnerable point in time. He feared for the child.
Yet none could be more terrified than the wet nurse selected to care for Pallas Serena. She was pressed to the wall, pinned by invisible waves of power. She had thought it strange that the Emperor could have a child so newly-born. Chosen at random and placed in a random room within a wing heavily but invisibly patrolled by the Custodian Guards, it would have been incredibly difficult to trace the Emperor's intent.
"My Emperor! I beg you... save me! The child is a witch!"
"If you have tried to even think of harming my daughter, thine death will be a long time coming." he growled back, his eyes burning pits of sunfire.
Her mind blanked out and near destroyed itself in terrror at his words. "I would never dare, Lord! I... I... was just trying to comfort her! She was crying so much, and suddenly... this! I did nothing to provoke her!"
The Emperor sifted through her memories with practiced ease and found no falsehoods there. She had been quite competent in her duty, giving of her own body's sustenance without rancor to grant those of noble the antibodies and natural resistances their sheltered upbringing would normally deprive them.
He turned his attention towards the gilded crib at the middle of the room and slowly forced his way through the viscous air. Opening his arms out, he tried to contain the Warp-pressure. Surprisingly, for all the boiling energies in the phase beyond mortal perceptions, the Warp was still clean.
Interesting. Demons popping out of warp of Warp burst for random slaughter and mayhem was something he would never have to fear from Serenity. He unclenched his fists, reached out and finally touched the crib. He saw Serenity's face contorted in her own infantile anxiety.
The pressure upon the nurse eased and she fell roughly to the floor. She cowered there, wide-eyed.
"Leave." said the Emperor. "You are not needed here."
Bowing and constantly mouthing words of gratitude that went unheard, the nurse fled. She screeched in surprise and fear as the door opened in her face and Malcador's frowning visage lay on the other side.
He stared at her dismissively, and strode in. "I had nothing to do with this." he said evenly to the Empero's back. "I was in my office. You had commanded that someone of our caliber of psychic ability would always be near, and I had been maintaining passive awareness. No one approached this little Moon Rabbit."
"I do not sense the presence of the Ruinous Powers here." the Emperor replied, puzzled. So what was causing this?
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No one chooses to be an Astartes of the Black Legion.
Either it is forced upon him by his fellows, or it is forced upon him by his own fate.
None who enter the Black Legion are undeserving of their punishment.
No one leaves the Black Legion except through death.
We are the Unforgiven.
These words rang in the great hall of the Black Legion Battlebarge GRANDIS SERENA. It was an ancient ship, crafted even before the Great Crusade in the Lunar forges and served until the Heresy as Imperium Silver Ship. The Imperium Silver Fleet was a powerful mobile force that with unmatched speed delivered supplies, order, and communications between Terra and the many different Legions operating across the galaxy. Never directly engaged in warfare until the Horus Heresy, it could attain such speed through the Warp by being the personal Fleet of the Princess Herself and guided by her immense calming influence upon the Empyrian. The ship was seized by the Sons of Horus when it fought a delaying action to allow the Princess to flee towards Terra.
That it remained in the hands of the Black Legion was a sacrilege and an insult to many in the Imperium. However, its long association with Serenity enabled to do as the Black Legion proclaims for itself - to be captured by Chaos and emerge, if not unscathed, then at least unbowed. The ship when recaptured by the Night Lords was a puzzle. It was uncorrupted, daemons being nothing more than scorch marks where they dared touch the hull. Yet, by definition of having been under Chaos control it was corrupted.
"You all know of those early centuries after the Scattering." To the Astartes, the name of Horus was worse than filth, referring to the event as the Horus Heresy would be to grant the traitor more glory than he as worth. The speaker, Antonius, wore an unremarkable black beak-faced helm rather than the skull-faced ones customarily worn by Chaplains. "When the Emperor could still speak now and then with his own lips. It was His Holy Word that those among the Sons of Horus who truly repented and fought to drive the Primarch from his madness could be granted the gift of dying in the Imperium's service. They would not be forgiven, but their geneseed could be preserved.
This was a mercy far beyond what they deserved. But it is the Emperor's uncontestable will, and in the dreams of the Primarchs they felt the distant plea of Serenity, and so it was granted to those unworthy ones.
They would not be allowed a homeworld, they would not be free to recruit Initiates other than those chosen for them by the Custodes. All heraldry erased, all marks of honor denied them forever, the Sons of Horus became the Black Legion. All that remains is this -" and here he touched the only bright mark on his flat black armor, the white crescent that looked like a closed eye "the Waning Moon, the mark of our sin.
The Luna Wolves had been the First among the Legions, the most faithful, and now they are nothing.
We are the Black Legion!
We hold within us the geneseed of the Arch-Betrayer Horus, and it is our duty to the Imperium that such cursed power be burned in the cleasing flame of war, to let it be excised alongside the enemies of mankind. We hold within use the taint of Chaos, and it one we contain with sheer hate. Not for Horus, for he is not worthy of even our hate! Spit on his name, and walk on to things that have meaning. But for Chaos itself, and those fools who try to tread the road we trod upon and the false powers we spurned! DEATH TO TRAITORS!
We are not proof of redemption! As long as we live, there can be no forgiveness! We stand here, having touched Chaos and endured its promises, only proof that those who fall into Chaos are weak and mankind would be well rid of their existence. If we were but stronger we would not have fallen in the first place, but that we stand here is proof that it is a -choice- to become irredeemable!
We are the least among the servants of the Imperium, and yet in our small way we are greater than the most exalted among the heretics and daemonic. We are Astartes, and we are made to remember what it means when Astartes attempt to put themselves about their duty to the Emperor and mankind. Such hubris deserves the ultimate punishment!
We have fought the Traitor Legions time and again, renewing our ancient vow with each fallen brother, but no greater hatred can we give than to those knowing Chapters that turn willingly into Chaos and betray the Imperium. Once more we are called to strike the memory of our failure upon those who believe they can reach power through the sacrifice of the innocents. Serenity's peace be upon their victims."
"THE EMPEROR'S WRATH UPON THE BETRAYER!" was the retort of a thousand strong.
"The Wolves no longer howl at the Moon."
"LET THE DARK DESTROY THE DARK!"
"Brothers! I offer you the Astral Claws and Huron Blackheart, the Tyrant of Badab!"
"IN NOMINE LUNA, THEY SHALL BE PUNISHED!"
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Waves of power rolled over the two. Unlike pillars of stone set upon the sea, they would not be worn away by this tide. The child was still crying.
"There should be a list for this." Malcador muttered irritatedly. "Is she hungry? Wet? Dry? Cold? Has she soiled her diapers?"
The Emperor's nose crinkled slightly at the last. "I do not believe so." He didn't want to check.
"Then it is probably a bid for attention." He couldn't order his master about, but Malcador's pointed look implied it was not his responsibility.
The Emperor approached the crib and made soothing noises. Carefully he picked up Pallas Serena and wove a weave of his own power over hers. Her crying subsided to hiccups, but still her tiny body quivered in distress. Her face was twisted as if in pain. "This does not seem to be an attack, but it is clearly being imposed upon her from without."
"It is almost as if she's having a vision, is it not?"
The Emperor paused. "If it is, then I have no way of stopping it short of cutting her off from the Warp completely." Visions were not dependent on age, but power. This he had confirmed from studies with the Eldar. It was just that beings tended to develop both power and control with age. "The trauma of that would likely kill her."
"Why not just read her mind and find out what disturbs this child?"
"I cannot. I can read her past life well enough, but not her current state. Serenity barely has any mind yet at this point in her life. An infant has not yet any way of perceiving long-term memory. Even short-term memory is extremely limited."
"If that is so, then this likely not to cause her any permanent harm. It is likely she would forget it in mere moments after it is done."
The Emperor frowned, remembering one of many desecrations that foolish Men had attempted to harness the powers of Chaos and take some control over their own doomed future. "The Periculosus Composito Infanta."
Malcador nodded. "The Very Dangerous Baby Array. Is it the same?"
"An infant should not have to experience sensations its body is ill-capable of even comprehending. Her heart could burst from the strain." Nonetheless a speculative glimmer appeared on the Emperor's eyes. "Are you thinking what I am thinking, old friend?"
"Unless it involves cheese, likely not."
"Her Warp power could be turned inwards, the same way we preserve ourselves through the ages. If we cannot save her from this torment, then at least we can ensure she endures through the event." He nodded to himself, a plan already forming. "And yes, it does involve cheese."
Some time later, a Sister of Silence arrived with a plate of smoked cheese. "Why do you constantly mock me, Kadmon?" Malcador said with a long-suffering sigh.
"You had best be ready to accept the penalties of constantly playing the sarcasm game around me, cutter." The Emperor cut a thick slice with his Power Claw and munched upon it as he prepared to thicken the Warp-weave around Serenity. The Sister of Silence showed great effort just to keep from being blown away by the unseen waves of force. "Eat the rest." he commanded Malcador.
Malcador stared at the shaking girl-child, up at the Emperor's worried expression, then at the remaining slab of hard cheese almost as large as his own head. This child was bringing out the more playful side of the Emperor. Unfortunately that just meant more subtle and more persistent assholery. He sighed for a third time and reached for the dairy product.
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Of the Chapters represented there, only the Salamanders were also a First Founding Chapter. The Space Marines representing the other Chapters felt a commn distaste for the presence of the accursed Black Legion among them, but as the Salamander there showed no sign of his own displeasure then they chose to limit their own disdain. Two of them were Salamanders Successors, after all. Vulkan's get was one of the more numerous chapters, with their impressive fleet and extensive experience in boarding actions.
In the expertise and methods of their heavy combat teams, the Salamanders and Black Legion Marines had many similarities, both with larger pools of Terminators and Devastators. The Black Legion in strategic doctrine was the exact opposite, with very little transport capability for a space-bound Chapter. There was such a dearth of information about the Black Legion, helped by how so few saw anything worth learning about these who were often thrown into the worst of battles against Chaos, that no matter who won the Imperium may benefit.
"You are Captain of the Second Company, correct?" asked Cobalt Magyar, Captain of the Marines Errant First Company.
Tanos Kirlian nodded briefly. The Chapter Masters of their respective Chapters had already smoothed out broad cooperation, but the Black Legion had just freshly arrived.
"And the Black Legion have brought four full companies for this campaign."
"It is as you say."
"Where is your First Company commander? It is an implied insult not to be present. Is this command council not worthy of his presence?"
"No, I assure you, brother-Captain, no insult is intended. It is simply our custom. The Captain has no voice in command affairs. First Company is a purely combat company, the first to the fray. They are the likeliest to achieve absolution in death. Command decisions begin with the Second Company, who have yet to earn the right to serve to their utmost."
The Errant sneered. "A deviant custom."
"The Captain of the Black Legion First Company has taken a vow of absolute obedience and humility. He has nothing useful to say." spoke the Brother-Captain Plia'Des of the Salamanders. "They will fight where and when told to fight. What more is needed?"
Magyar deferred in respect to an honored brother of the First Founding. "With a company of the Salamanders, two of the Scorpions, Minotaurs, Star Phantoms and the Exorcists, and the full Chapter of our Marines Errant and and the Fire Angels, I ask if the aid of the Black Legion is even necessary."
"Indeed. Such a force should be more than sufficient against the Astral Claws and their puppets. The seven of us should be more than enough against even the addition of four full Chapters of the Executioners, Lamenters and Mantis Warriors." added Hagar Vorfid of the Scorpions.
"The scouring of the Astral Claws and the punishment of Huron Blackheart are our responsibility."
"You dare claim this glory for yourselves? Renegade filth, how can we trust you won't fall to Chaos again and add your strength to his heresy?"
Kirlian took deep calming breaths. "You can't. This is why the numbers are weighed against the traitors. You must fall upon us in case our faith falters."
"Then I fail to see the reason in adding the risk of your defection to this campaign."
Kinkab Mahe of the Fire Angels responded in a surprisingly reasonable tone. "Indeed. Why would the High Lords grant this honor to such a Chapter such as yours?
"The Astral Claws would not be the first Traitor Chapter to be destroyed utterly under our hands." Kirlian replied softly. "It is a black mark that rebellious Chapters have been cut out the Imperium by our blade, but better we take the burden of this sin than have others besmirch their brothers. Huron Blackheart in his treason has expressed admiration of Horus during his vile time as Warmaster of the Traitor Legions. That is intolerable. That we will not accept. He must be crushed."
"Do you fear that another such as Horus may rise?" Plia'Des asked curtly.
Kirlian shook his head and placed both palms on the round ceramite table. "No." He looked weary. "That heresy will not happen again. We will not let it happen again. But we more than any Chapter know the stages of the descent into Chaos, and by the burden the Emperor himself placed upon in the time of the Second Founding... where a Chapter seeks to exalt itself above their duty to humanity, we shall be there to deliver the lesson of our subjugation. There can be no mastery over Chaos, only defiance or consumption. To purge the taint is the task granted to us by the mercy of the Princess Herself."
"Do not defile Her Name with your lips!" snarled Magyar, drawing his sword.
The Captain of the Black Legion gave not the slightest flinch. He bowed low and said evenly "I apologize."
"Tch." Disappointed at the lack of reaction, the Errant sheathed his blade roughly. "What kind of gutless Astartes are you?"
Kirlian even smiled slightly at an accusation that would have driven nearly any other Space Marine to a rage.
"The Astral Claws must be eradicated." the Captain Plia'des continued. "What of the others?"
"If they have fallen to the worship of Chaos, then they too shall be purged. However, if they are but driven to fight under the banner of the Tyrant without yet taking that last irrevocable step, then I humbly implore you that the Astartes of the Emperor should not be wasted."
"Hah. I knew you could not be trusted. Already you bring the voice of treason and weakness into this council!" Magyar shouted, slamming his palms onto the table.
Alehandro Mori of the Minotaurs raised his hand in a calming gesture. "You ask of us that we show mercy to the betrayers? And what would you do with them if they are allowed to seek for absolution. More like the Black Legion we do not need."
Kinkab Mahe added "If you seek the gratitude of other fallen Chapters you will be sorely disappointed. The Black Legion are the first among heretics, and none shall ever forget. Your lives are endured only as far as they may serve to prevent a more worthy Marine from falling in your stead."
"As it should be." Kirlian intoned. Technically, the first among heretics would still be the Word Bearers, but he chose not to inflame the council any further. "But as well you know the Black Legion may not expand any further. Our presence here states that if we can be granted mercy, then they whose sins are much less may yet redeem themselves in pain and fire and duty. Thus with this small service needless bloodshed may yet be spared."
All other Space Marines there, other than Plia'des, scowled at his cloying words. They looked from him to the Salamander, wondering just how different two Legions of the First Founding could be. The Astartes of Vulkan kept their traditions well and were worthy brothers to fight alongside by any standard. Now this, even from such a tainted geneseed, they expected more from the spawn of that which mortally wounded the Emperor Himself. Such foulness, so unlike what an Astartes should be, could barely be endured.
The Salamanders understood. They had families, treated their citizens well, theirs was a humility born of contact with common humanity. We are the Black Legion; he told himselg. Bow your heads, and give thanks. We are less than even the youngest child of man. That innocence is something worthy of being protected. It is the power with which that Serenity touched Horus. We have no pride.
Kirlian accepted the ignorant persecution of these younger chapters, and directed the rage that should have gone into hurt pride into ever more fervent but carefully-controlled hatred against Chaos. It was not the Four Ruinous Powers that they fought, but All That Is Chaos. Even Malal.
"The Black Legion will not be granted the assault on Badab. Remain at our borders and prevent the regrouping of forces." spoke Captain Plia'des. "When it is time to break the defenses of the Tyrant with our bodies and our faith, only then will you be called to expend your last moments in service of the Emperor."
Kirlian kept his face calm. Of course, asking for the Emperor's Mercy and the the Peace of Serenity was not enough to be granted such peerless grace. They were in many ways the 'Last Chancers' among the Astartes, accepting only chaos-touched and the mutants, who do battle with their own affliction with every moment. Awareness of one's own failure was often so painful that so many of other Chapters would choose to submerge instead into Chaos rather than accept the burden of their flawed mortality. The betrayers would have to earn first even the chance of being heard to petition their own salvation, until then the Black Legion would burn them with the same all-consuming hate that they had for Chaos. All that traitors deserved was death, even repentant ones.
Only the strongest may come out of Chaos with his soul intact. He pitied slightly his younger brothers, for they have not yet been tested. He only hoped they would never have to face such a thorough examination of themselves, lest they too be found wanting.
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Custodes entered, carrying bundles and bins of sensory equipment. The Emperor directed them, laying out the sensors all around the cradle. Serenity was still fitful, but had calmed down sucking on a pink pacifier.
"Where is all this energy coming from?" the Emperor said with a frown as he stared at the instruments. "Here, watch this waveform. She is not pulling it from the Warp, and if she was forcing it out of her own reserves then there should be some turbulence at least."
"Are you certain" here Malcador paused to burp, "that this calmness really emanates from her or is more a side-effect of her existence? Like mass and gravity?"
"Her presence in the Warp is tiny, well out of proportion of the Warp shadow she casts. And it is selective. I have no problem weaving her essence, as she seems to recognize I have no harmful intent."
"Hmm. Then I surmise that the improbable result is that she is drawing from the Warp in a way these instruments cannot perceive. After all, they only show results through comparisons with a baseline."
The Emperor looked speculatively at his daughter. "If there is no change from her initial scans, then it could also be that she is doing it -constantly-. Fascinating. Malcador. A metaphor."
"A stream of water from a faucet upon a creek."
"Would not moving water upon moving water just cause more agitated water on contact?"
"That is true, but if you watch the contant rate of water falling from the faucet it seems as if a solid glassy pillar. And where that falling stream touches the flowing stream, the little circumference would be utterly still while still in constant movement."
The Emperor nodded. "Excellently phrased, you truly have a teacher's heart."
"All that I know, I learned from you, shīfu." Here he hiccuped again, and blanched at the acrid taste at the roof of his mouth. "I do hope you are not entertaining thoughts of meddling with her genetics to take advantage of this talent."
The Emperor looked insulted. "Of course not. I would not meddle with her genes any more than my own. That aside, at our level the double helix is just one more tool for the mind."
The door opened again to admit a tall Custodes with a biomechanical eye. This was Rasulov Rahman, Constantin Valdor's predecessor. Seeing the Emperor focused on his scientific studies, he approached Malcador instead and whispered of developments outside.
"My Emperor, the woman who served as a nursemaid, should she be silenced?" Malcador asked. "Many people are on the verge on panic about why you suddenly disappeared in full battle armor."
The Emperor just grunted, indicating how inconsequential all that was.
"We can not hide this Moon Rabbit for much longer however. If you want better readings, perhaps we should bring the Adeptus Mechanicus into our confidence."
"What, that nest of gossippy hens? Hah! Not yet."
"It appears they do have some inkling now." Malcador began to read from the dataslate that Rahman brought. "Glorious Emperor and Blessed Avatar of the Omnissiah, praises and salutations... blah blah... eternal service... meander meander... points of interest... bleat bleat... sensors on Mars... jargon jargon... request information that we may honor the scientific partnership between Terra and Mars to your eternal glory... Blubber. Odment. Tweak. Message ends."
The Emperor looked up. "You do know you must get over that little grudge with the Magos Biologis sometime."
"One of these days, my Emperor, I shall stop setting his face on fire when we meet. In any case, this proves that they do have the instruments you require. What do you wish to be done?"
"Slate." Rahman handed it over. The Emperor quickly typed in a message in Machine Cant and gave it back. "There. That should hold them for a while."
Malcador glanced at the message and smirked. "Indeed."
Rasulov Rahman didn't understand what 01110011 01110100 01100110 01110101 meant and had no desire to do so. It was enough that the Emperor decreed it, any more from him would be despicable presumption. The Custodes bowed respectfully and left the two to their fussy task.
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The setting of Lovehammer has multiple continuities. Offhand, I can say there is at least Arkado's version where Saturn/Hotaru survives in her adorable and indescribably powerful canon form with hints that others may Senshi may have (though all Primarchs are absent, as in 40k canon). There is the more 'mainline' Lovehammer snippets over at the Spacebattles thread that shows the Senshi growing up alongside the Primarchs, with bundles of lolwurthy and daaw characterizations. It's almost a shame to have Heresy happen, such happy times should last forever. And then there's mine, which integrates elements of posts by Barricade and drakensis, where Heresy does still happen but ends with an Imperium slightly less wounded but still bitter.