Athena.
The once lush and verdant world, with its continent spanning forests and its shimmering crystal oceans, was now a nuclear blasted husk of its former glory. Mountains pierce the sky like a jagged jaw line upon the world, the sky is clear and the Athenian star punishes the surface of the planet. Natural resources are scarce after the initial strip mining by the Mechanicum in the wake of the Heresy and the craters of a cataclysmic battle in the heavens still scar the endless deserts. Over the millennia a hardy population has risen from the ashes of the once proud culture and diverse linage of the previous populations of Athena. Athena used to be a thriving trading planet, with resources in abundance. The northern collectives controlled the iron and gold ore, the south controlled the spices and herbs, the west had endless droves of livestock and perishable resources while the east were the finest architects and marble holders upon the planet. Truces and trade agreements were standard procedure upon Athena, everyone had something the others wanted. Until the Imperium came.
The Imperium wanted everything, even Athena's people and in return the Athenians were given the Imperial Truth. Profitless words from an interstellar despot. Rebellion and grief is what the Imperium expected, well thought out arguments and a hard trading agreement is what they received. Athena managed in maintaining its limited independence from the yoke of Imperialism, but it came at a cost. They were forced into the galaxy shattering civil war and their peoples were butchered under the hordes of the World Eaters. The survivors had the small Imperial Fist company to thank for their continued life. The brave Astartes paid dearly with their lives so the indigenous people would continue on after the war.
Then the Mechanicum came with the giants in blue. The Ultramarines made planet fall in the years after the Heresy and instated new laws and policies to be followed by the shattered people. Real rebellion and disgust for the Imperium rose up in the people and the Loyalists were hated for their presence. The Mechanicum began to tear and shatter the planet's surface, sucking the oceans dry, cracking the mountains for their ore, felling forests in days. The people of Athena held a hatred for the Imperium none could match. Their lives and beautiful planet had gone from perfection to a shattered world with a fraction of the people remaining thanks to the Imperium.
It was many thousands of years until the Imperium came again. The people of Athena had split into two very distinctive cultural groups. Those who tried to gleam a measure of their former glory and those who accepted their fate. All memory of the Imperials had faded to dust and time with the honoured dead and a Missionary vessel made planet fall bringing aid and defence from the giant creatures roaming the ash and sand deserts. They also brought with them, the God Emperor. Faith. Pure and un-tempered faith is what was given to the people of Athena, that faith came in the guise of silken promises and resources.
The Faith brought war once more to Athena's surface. After two hundred years of the missionary expedition leaving the surface, the religion had evolved into something dangerous. The people of the land and those who dwelt along the coasts of the polluted oceans remaining on Athena followed the Imperial way of belief, holding tithe and honour the Emperor for deliverance from the eternal darkness. Those that dwelt in the deserts, those that dwelt within the vast tribes believed differently, they believed the Emperor was truly the divine God. The lived in total devotion to him, relying on the almighty power of the God Emperor to provide them with the means of life and living and they believed wholly the others on Athena should believe as they did. That they needed no outside help from the star walkers and that the Emperor would watch over them and bring them all they needed.
This sparked a feud, that feud became a long standing grudge which eventually turned into a religious war that spread like fire across the surface of the planet.
This continued as the galaxy was plunged into civil war once more with the devout versus the heretic in a battle of religious fanaticism. In the wake of this, the Knights Vermillion came. The Athena's do not know of the dark and treacherous origins of the Knights and nor will they ever find out, but they were grateful for the Astartes appearance. Like people do, they had forgotten about the evils the Imperium had brought upon them in the name of advancement.
The newly formed Knights Vermillion found Athena a divided people and culturally diverse, much needed preparing for the backlash of the galaxies terrible wars. The people were abused and punished and the Astartes sought to avenge that, the Knights primary mantra, to uphold the citizen above the leader was put into full drive. The Astartes descended in flocks, helping to build castles and population centres, they helped train the men in the art of warfare, equipped the nation with the means to defend itself. The Astartes set up forge foundries and churned out all manner of melee weaponry and armour to outfit the encountered peoples. They brought writing and literature. they brought Imperial history and ways of purifying what little consumable resources left on the planet.
The people of Athena revered the Knights for what they had done and held them as the protectors of Athena. The humble Astartes declined at first, but after the insistence of the free people the Knights accepted lordship of the people, vowing to protect their kind throughout the galaxy until the last Knight died. Then the desert dwellers came, seeking such help from these new star walkers. The opening greetings did not end well, ridiculed and held in contempt by the Astartes for their devotion filled god bothering the cries of heretic were upon every dweller lips. Casting the desert tribes back from the walls of the great castle states, the Astartes concurred in secret they would recruit new initiates from both cultures, there were great warriors bred upon this planet.
They set up the Choosing. Trials and hardship which could kill even the most bold and proud of men, the reward? To become a protector, to become one of the great Warriors of the Emperor.
Scato took the sword blow upon his shield, the sound rung out with a clash of steel in the hall. The shock of the blow sent shivers down his arm, numbing his shoulder. His attacker rained several more blows down upon his kite shield, the steel denting and flaking under the assault. The young Athenian warrior rolled backwards away from the sword of his opponent, resting upon the balls of his feet. He flicked his head to the side in an effort to shift his dark locks which had stuck to his forehead, his skin slick with sweat. It was uncomfortable and was clinging to the chainmail dressing his body. He clutched the grip upon his long sword tightly and stroked the leather wrapping of the handle. His keen green eyes studying his adversary.
Mikahil was a brute, easily a head taller than Scato and as wide as an ox at the shoulders. If the smaller youth hadn't clung to his shield he'd have had his skull split in the opening seconds of the melee. The other was coming in for another swing and Scato pushed himself into a lunge to his left. Mikahail's sword whistled a mere whisper from his cheek, cutting the air where Scato had been crouched. The taller combatant instantly reversed his stroke and came hurtling towards Scato's side, smashing into his shield arm and hearing a crunch as his wrist was pinned between the shield and his own mailed torso. Pain lanced up Scato's arm and he felt a hot throbbing fill his fingers, his shield sagged in his grip, but he would not be defeated. With a snarl of exertion filled anger he brought his sword arcing round to collide with the side of Mikahail's knee. The brute yelped as the sound of crunched mail filled the hall, quickly followed by the crash of armour.
Scato stood, taking several steps back and fumbling with his shield straps. A herald called out across the assembled hall, announcing Scato of House Thracian, the winner of the melee bout. House Kanatch would receive the dishonour sash. Scato's house squire came hurrying forward but fell short with a face of shock, his eyes fixed over Scato's left shoulder. He knew what was coming and braced himself as best he could in the scant second he had. The young warrior had managed to half turn the shield to face the approaching blow but a good hand measure of the blade slapped into his shoulder, almost popping it from the joint. Once again pain flared in his already damaged arm and tears filled his eyes. Mikahil looked possessed, his eyes bulged and his teeth were smeared in frothy spit. He brought his weapon up for another blow when a figure moved as fast as lightening. Stone cracked and silence filled the hall as Mikahil was snatched bodily from the floor and left dangling all his weight by his right arm. The sword clattered onto the cracked slabs at the Astartes feet and Mikahil struggled against the iron grip.
" Dishonour, aspirant. You do not strike a fellow warrior when his back is turned. You lost. "
The bellow blew the hair from Mikahil's features and gave him pause in his thrashings. He tensed, trying to hold his armoured weight better and heaved in his breaths. His venom filled eyes flicked to Scato who was having the shield and chainmail prised from his wrent arm. He looked back to the giant who held him suspended from the floor, wishing for anything beyond the stars to have the same strength so he could fight back against the Knight-Protector. His voice came out in a growl.
" His strike would not have finished me, I am not defeated when upon my back. The rules to your Proving are moot and ill conceived. "
There was an intake of breath from the assembled nobles and one or two cried out for punishment. He had dared to speak to the Knight as if he were and equal or in fact, the Astartes better.
Mikahil expected the fearsome warrior to strike him down and crush the life from his body but the warrior just stood silent, staring into Mikahil's brown eyes with his devilish red ones. The Knight spoke after a moment of silence, his long fangs framing his pink tongue, his blonde hair falling across his face as he tilted his head.
" You would strike a man when his back is turned, even after being helped through the Ash deserts by this individual? After he has saved your life? "
There was a weight to the Astartes words that were not lost upon Mikahil Kanatch. He gazed into those deep red eyes for a while, choosing his words carefully. Then he spoke.
" In that he was my friend, in this he is my foe, whatever the cost, victory is paramount. "
Whatever the Astartes had been expecting, Mikahil could not know, yet his words seemed to have abated something and he was lowered to the ground. The hulking warrior turned to the assembled crowds and placed one large gauntlet upon the pommel of the gigantic sword at his hip.
" Hark! The Choosing is at an end. "
The crowd gathered in, a mere handful of them totting weapons and sporting injuries. House Kanatch versus House Thracian had been the final bout of the tournament.
" The road has been hard and many of your fellows have been lost to the perils of Athena. I understand this, it was the same for me. I too braved the Grim Silence, where we all endured a month in darkness and silence, where we drank the rainfall and ate what scraps of food we could find in the dark. I endured as you have. "
He began to walk, his armoured might stressing the ground. He curled his hand into a fist as he circled the warrior aspirants.
" You have braved the Wasting Road, cast out from the safety of your holdings, cast out from the safety of your family and friends. You were plucked from the lives you knew and strew into the unforgiving desert and mountains, left to die. Many did not return, Athena and her beasts have claimed them, they have proven themselves unworthy of becoming a Warrior of the Stars. I returned. So have you, many of you helped each other, earning comradeship and proving the worth of loyalty. "
He held them all with his words, Scato's pain was briefly forgotten as he listened with rapt attention to the Knight.
" You spent weeks living with each other, forging bonds unbreakable, training , eating, sleeping and praying together. You have become a brotherhood and today in this hall, you have endured the Rite of Uron. You have emulated the trials our Master endured, you have endured having your brothers, those close to you, turn and attack you. You have faced darkness and death and you have endured. For that, all of you holding a sword...all of you soaked with your own sweat...those of you with fire in your hearts, rejoice! For now...you are no longer men of Athena... "
The silence was painful. The Astartes stopped dead centre once more. Knowing he held all of the assembled warriors and nobles by their entire attention.
He turned to encompass the whole group, outstretching his arms wide, extending his thumbs and then crossing his hands across his chest. He formed the sign of the Aquila.
" I salute you! For though our path has been long and bloody, you have proved to our Chapter that you posses unflinching courage and the honour of true warriors. Your reward has come, I welcome you brothers, as Initiates of the Knights Vermillion. The Emperor is proud of you this day. "
The explosion of noise was even almost deafening for the Astartes, who couldn't help the smile that spread across his features. The joy and exhilaration that resounded in the hall was awe inspiring. He felt a warmth inside him and he let the smile linger for a moment more before crushing the feeling of elation under an iron fist of composure. There was much work to be done, all they had proven is that they were ready for the next stage of the initiation. Even more of them would die, horrible, painful and ultimately meaningless deaths.
Captain Valoran of the Tenth Company made his exit from the giant cathedral whilst the civilians celebrated. He nodded to the two Astartes guarding the door, their bolters clutched to their chests. He took in a breath of the air, the taste tangy upon his tongue. His body filtered out the pollutants and chemicals in the air, causing him to hock up a glob of phlegm onto the dusty dirt path leading down the hill from the front of the Cathedral. He'd seen the records in the bank of ancient logic engines in the bowels of the Cathedral complex, this place, the city of Trojas had once been a mighty and beautiful place, framed by forest blanketed mountains and the pearlescent sea behind the Cathedral. Now, it was a ghost of its former glory. The sea was black and violent, the mountains bare and home to vicious clans of tribal's. The city of Trojas was now walled in, castles jutted out from the city line, no white buildings of beauty only an expanse of brick and mortar. An ugly city for an ugly world.
The only thing that gave Valoran pause for contemplation was the valley path between the twin mountain ranges. The ancient gate of the Trojasian people had long since disappeared under tides of ash and war, but it was symbol of Imperial hope that towered above them. The mighty war engine of the Heresy times stood immobile between the mountains. The giant Warlords weapons had been silent for thousands and thousands of years. Great gouges and scars in the mountains and earth around it attested to the mighty battle that ravaged Athena in the dark ages of the Imperium. The awesome might of the Titan was marred by the ash clinging to it, the way the Athenian creeper vines had obscured most of its lower half, a forest of thorns and bramble. Rusted and inoperable, it had withstood the test of time and battle. A relic of the Imperium of man.
Valoran creased his brow and tapped his index finger upon the pommel of his powers word in contemplation.
If such a mighty machine was upon this forgotten backwater, then what else, perhaps dwelt upon the surface of this planet? What other artefacts of mankind would they find among the systems planets?
He cast his gaze to the heavens and his enhanced vision picked out a streak of light just visible in the atmosphere. His brow creased above his blood red eyes. A second later a shockwave rippled down from the heavens and sent a sheet of dust and ash into his face. He turned away from the bright glare in the heavens above and stomped towards the two Astartes behind him. One of them was evidently communicating via voxlink inside his helmet, his bolter held easy by his side, his shoulders turned down. The other approached and the grille upon the front of his helmet flared into static light.
++ Commander, the Errant is requesting all able Astartes to return aboard. The Spear of Athena was just destroyed by an enemy fleet who have arrived in system. ++
Valoran scowled, no rest for the pious it seemed. He inwardly cursed this systems proximity to the Eastern Crusades.
" What are we expecting? "
The Astartes turned in step to follow Valoran as he marched into the Cathedral once more.
++ Fleet-ward reports indicate the main body of the fleet are Ork, the greenskins are being driven towards us by the Tau like stampeding grox. ++
Valoran snarled, causing a few of the closest nobles to shirk away in fear. Now he understood why they were being recalled ship side. The Orks would attempt to board the Imperial ships, anything to bolster their own scrap heap flotilla.
The hall fell silent as he stormed through the crowd towards the Courtyard entrance, the awaiting Thunderhawk would lift them all skyward and into war.
" Those of you who have been chosen, you will come with me now. Your lives upon Athena are over and you serve the Chapter now. The Stars await you. "
The sun dipped below the horizon as the gunship boomed off into the atmosphere, leaving the inhabitants of Trojas gazing up into the heavens.