Alarms blared inside the watch fortresses across the Segmentum Solar. The probes had detected multiple large Warp signatures cross the borders of the Segmentum. The crews of these watchtowers scrambled to get the various fleets and Space marine chapters informed of the situations. Large golden armor clad warriors activated their own communication lines to inform their brothers back at Holy Terra.
Lord High Admiral Catiel was handed a report from his communications officer. His brow furrowing more and more as he read. "Are these readings correct?" He asked the officer.
"Yes my lord. I had the watchtowers triple check the readings. They jumped into the border then jumped deeper in. Directions point to Terra being the destination."
Catiel was quiet as he arranged his thoughts. When he opened his mouth the bridge became a flurry of action. "Get a communique to the Imperial fists and the Adeptus Mechanicum. Ask them for support in securing the system. We also need to consolidate our fleet to Holy Terra. Turn us around and get us back to Luna."
As his crew got to work Catiel gripped his command chair. 'Let us hope that these are just phantoms in the warp.' He thought.
He was unsure if his ship, Terra's Claw, could stand against such a force. This ship was new as the last Terra's claw was scrapped after the black crusade.
He started praying as a tear in reality opened, sucking up the ship and her escorts.
Terran System
"Chapter Master, a communique for assistance came in." A large man in yellow marked armor said. He was smaller than the man he was addressing. He wasn't a full battle brother. But he had years of honored service in the scouts.
"Who is it from?" The Chapter Master's voice was calm but carried enormous weight.
"Lord high admiral Catiel sir. He is bringing battlefleet Solar to this system and asks that we bring as many ships as we can to support The Phalanx. We have auspecs readings that Mars is moving ships as well."
"So the traitors are coming to surprise us."
"No sir, the enemy is unknown. It is suspected that it is the fleet that has been moving through Imperial space."
"An unknown enemy nonetheless. Send the order. The Phalanx and all ships in the system are to ready for void combat. Send the call to the any of our successor chapters not in combat to return to us. Our blood is the bulwark of Terra and we will hold!"
"Yes sir!" The scout saluted before running off to give the orders.
Vorn Hagan, Chapter Master of the Imperial Fists, stood to go ready himself for combat. "Emperor guide me. I feel a storm coming."
On Terra the High lords were in a panic. Each one was moving their branches for battle. It had been a long time since the last invasion of Terra. The Imperial Regent, Robute Guillimane, was off world on his ship Macragge's Honnor. The fleet of ships from his sons flanking his in Orbit as escorts.
The populace of Terra was confined to their homes as the Militarum moved to be ready for battle. The Custodes could be seen all over the Palace proper commanding a chosen few of the guard to fortify the palace in lue of the Imperial fists.
Ancient dreadnoughts sleeping under the Palace were awoken to protect the inner sanctums. Beside them were their brothers in golden armor wielding their Guardian spears alongside the Adeptus sororitas. In the matter of days, the Terran system was ready for war.
On the edge of the system the foe they readied for appeared. A massive cursade sized fleet with ships numbering in the hundreds. All of them varying in size and class. The flag ship was as big if not bigger than Macragge's Honnor.
The Terran fleet was ready and waiting for the Primarch to give the attack order. He called for the Communication Officer to Hail the fleet on all channels. This opponent was unknown. From the reports they seem to be lost from the Great Crusade so he would give them one chance.
The bridge fell silent as the hail was sent. The speakers of the bridge crackling as they waited for a response. As they waited the fleet came closer and closer. Passing pluto, then Uranus, then Neptune. The silence was painful. Guillimane was ready to call the attack as they passed Saturn. This way they would be caught between his fleets and the Inquisition's Grey Knights.
He raised his hand as they began to approach the gas giant ready to give the order. Then the vox speakers crackled to life and a voice he had not heard since the Great crusade came through.
"Hail Father, my work is done. I still have much to do so I send my son and his brothers as my envoy. Please forgive me. I ask that you let them bring my Terran born sons home. Father, I beseech you to give me this."
This message was meant for the Emperor of mankind. This was a message from a Primarch. Robute Guillimane lowered his hand and asked for the line.
"This is Robute Guillimane, Pimarch of the 13th legion, and current Imperial Regent of the Imperium of man. We have received your message."
There was silence for but a moment. Then the speakers came to life. "We hear you lord primarch. Father has missed you and his brothers. Where is The Emperor? We were expecting him to respond."
"There is much to discuss. The last ten millennia has been…interesting. Let us have a meeting. I will bring my ship and escorts halfway. You can do the same."
"The hangar bay would be a good meeting ground. I fear that I would not fit in your halls."
"Then the meeting is set."
The line was cut and Robute sighed. "Set the course and have Macrag's sword and Macragge's Shield follow us."
The orders were given and three ships from either side closed the distance between the two fleets. One ready to strike, the other sitting calm.
Guillimane put on his helm and made his way to the hangar bays with his honor guard. The gilded armor was designed after the old armor from the Empire's height. Over the intercom the report of a single spacecraft leaving the unknown ship on a course for Macragge's Honor. The bay depressurized before opening the doors. In the void a dark ship was making its way.
"Be ready, but do not show hostility. They are from the old days." Guillimane said to his sons.
The craft was a Great Crusade Storm bird. The reported banner of a woman in a dress made of stars as well as the gothic numeral for two. The craft slowed then landed. The hanger doors closed and the room was pressurized. Once everything was done the Storm bird's ramp dropped.
From the belly of the ship came the thuds of many feet most small the others large. From the ship came twenty well armed and armored guardsmen. Their armor was reminiscent of the Adeptus sororitas. The arms they bore looked like lasguns. The shape had been refined and had an air of prestige.
They first saluted in the way of old earth, fore finger of a flat hand to the brow, to Guillimane and his entourage before turning to present arms as three more 'people' left the craft. Two wore old Cataphractii Terminator armor. They also stood as tall as the primarch. Their armor was painted a deep blue with white on the studs giving the appearance of a starry sky. The leather straps were replaced with their mark of the star woman.
The one leading them was what made Guillimane raise an eyebrow. It was a Contemptor pattern dreadnought that he had never seen. It had articulated fingers and a reactor pack. The helmet visor never looked away from the primarch's face. It seemed more 'alive' and streamlined. The normally visible machinery was nowhere to be found giving it the look of armor instead of a machine.
The dreadnought stopped with some distance between the two parties. "My name is Armael Andromeda, I lead the Andromeda Memorial fleet in the name of my primarch father."
"Which of my brothers is your primarch?" This question was natural given the numeral marking their war gear. All records of that legion were wiped from all records.
"We are sons of the second." The answer was swift and firm. As if everything was right in the world. But to Guillimane nothing about this was right. All records of the Second son of the Emperor were wiped alongside the eleventh.
Even his super human mind could not recall his very name let alone the name of his legion. It was as if he never existed. Something that only the fell gods or his father may do. If it was the Emperor who did this then it was as punishment and as a preventative measure. The primarch moved his hand to his hip, right next to his mastercraft plasma pistol.
"The message said that your Primarch was sent. Why was he sent?" This information would solve many mysteries. Why were they sent on a suicide crusade and not exicuted?
"I do not know my lord." Armael's voice was saddened. "He never spoke of why he was sent to Andromeda. He even refused to tell anyone his name. He always told the people to never fault the Emperor for our plight. That we should focus on working together and complete the work sooner. The old guard said he even changed the name of the legion to honor our new home. But I have seen him pass the old standard and reach out to it. He only wanted to come home."
"This is new information for us. All records were expunged for your legion."
"This is correct. We are looking forward to meeting the Emperor to give our thanks at our chance of redemption. The job is not completely done but it is the final stages. Father would be glad to receive his new name from The Emperor."
This was completely new information to the primarch. His brother was stripped of his name, his home, everything but a crusading colony fleet and his legion. Sent on a penitent crusade to conquer another galaxy with no contact with the home galaxy.
"Do you have proof of your claim for redemption?" To Guillimane these claims were extraordinary but he needed proof. They did not know that his father, The Emperor of mankind, was but a husk. Barely alive upon the Golden Throne.
Unfortunately for Guillimane Armael called for someone to fetch an object left on the ship. One of the Ultramarine guards stepped forward to go on the ship to help retrieve the object in case it was a trap. Armael stepped to the side motioning him to go. He followed two guardsmen onto the Stormbird, coming back out with a box.
"I ordered them to open it. It is clear my lord." They made their way between the two leaders before re-opening the box. Inside was an ancient recording device with the seal of the Aquila.
It thrummed to life and a hologram of a man from the chest up appeared. Guillimane took a sharp breath. Even distorted with age he knew his father's face and voice anywhere.
The Emperor's message matched what was said. At the end he said to his second son to come back in glory or die in shame. It was very brutal for a father but the correct move for a leader.
"I have seen this play many times. In his darkest times he would look to this for hope. He felt the weight of The Emperor's burden. Understanding all the action's taken. Through the Andromeda crusade he understood the Emperor and devoted his life anew to the Imperium and its truth."
Hearing this, Guillimane felt his chest tighten. The Imperial truth. A doctrine that condemned all religions and touts science and reason as the sole truths of the galaxy. The Great Crusade was founded on this ideology. The Imperium burned worlds for their religious zealotry
Now the Imperium has fallen to hypocrisy. The whole state is controlled by religion and bureaucracy. Tainted by sheer human greed and superstition. If they held to the old truth then they might become their enemies. Guillimane needed to placate the second legion. To get them to understand and bring his brother home before bad actors could turn their swords in his direction.
"There is much to discuss. But I must ask, why are you here in Terra if your primarch is not with you?"
"We have come to bring Terra's fallen sons home. Those who birthed and upheld the soul of the legion. Those that guided us and led us when we were here in the home galaxy and Andromeda. Of the 700 that birthed the legion only 100 remain. 50 are here as their honor guard bearing the ancient standard as well as the new. We wish to lay their memorial to rest on their homeworld."
Guillimane thought hard on this. His mind working the scenarios that could possibly happen if he were to acquiesce to their demand. That was when he realized something. Their numbers going into the crusade were smaller than a Chapter.
"Shouldn't the legion's number be in the tens of thousands? Were you decimated that much before your penitent crusade?"
"The little records we have of the legion before leaving state that our numbers have always been small. We were tied as a unit with the Imperialis Auxillia and a legio Titanica."
Odd that a legion of marines had such a high rate of attrition in the implantation process of the geneseed. The legions' took in many aspirants to swell their numbers. For their numbers to stay low even with this style of intake there must have been something wrong with their Primarch's genes.
"Lord Primarch, may we have permission to land on Terra and lay out brothers to rest?" The words were said with both reverence and sorrow.
Guillemane thought for a brief moment. In that moment his inhuman mind ran thousands of calculations and scenarios. He looked at the man in front of him.
"You may lay your brothers to rest. We will bring you and the 50 honorguard in with open arms. I wish to see the memorial so that we may prepare a place of honor for it. Humanity needed good news. Honored angels returning home is the best news."
Guillemane looked at everyone assembled. The Andromeda legion guard and marines looked relaxed while his own honor guard seemed unnerved. "You may return to your ship in peace. I will announce my decision and we will plan the return of the lost sons. You will have to submit to Adeptus mechanicus and Custodes inspection. We cannot have unknown objects on Terra. The Lost son's honor guard must also be inspected."
"I would not have it anyother way my lord. If they were alive they would have celebrated coming home." Armael gave a shallow bow to thank and excuse himself. In a movement that should have been impossible for the dreadnought, Armael turned on his heel to address his men. "Ready for departure. We have work to do. The Fallen guard shall be embraced."
Cheers erupted from his men. Guillemane could feel their relief and joy at the news. They stopped their cheers to salute the Primarch before leaving, their moves practiced and precise.
"Lord Primarch, are you sure this is wise? The Ecclesiarchy and the Inquisition will have words." The commander of Guillemane's honor guard remarked.
"I see you have found some humanity to ask questions. Keep that, it is a good trait. To answer your question commander. As I stated it is a moral boost to the Imperium. News of a lost legion sent on an impossible mission has returned. With them is the promise of millions more. Looking at them I feel we will see the return of previously lost STCs and new technology. The Mechanicum will want to see them."
"So you don't trust them completely?"
"There was once a time I trusted my brothers and their sons unconditionally. Look where we are now." Guillemane made his way back to the bridge. Once there he had the communication's officer open the wideband Vox.
"Citizens and soldiers of the Imperium. Today we prepared for war only to find allies from a forgotten time. They are a contingent sent to give news of their success and to bring the remains of the original members to their home planets. Now Terra is their last stop. They bring the fallen of their founding members of their Legiones Astartes. Hail The Emperor! Hail his returning angels!"
Across Terra the citizenry erupted into cheers. In the high spires of the cities the high lords, nobles and hidden agents of the Inquisition frowned. The Eclesiarch was mixed on this decision. But a smile formed on his lips as a high priest spoke into his ear while handing him a sealed scroll.