Had this idea stuck in my head the last few days while at work. Was also doing a bit of a lore binge read on Warhammer randomly that weekend so probably a factor.
Annnnywho, so, Lamenters, one of my favourite chapters since they both are uniquely resistant from the Black Rage and Red Thirst, and exemplfy Sanguinius' more noble side perfectly. Except they are cursed to forever be screwed over trying to do the right thing in their eyes.
So what better world to put one of the poor guys into then one overrun with evil demonic creatures that basically feed off emotions, where mankind exists solely by the "power of their own souls"?
Well, I hope you all enjoy enough I can justify continuing this, or maybe just keep it as a side project, who knows...
Moonlight shined over the world, it's pale glow illuminating it in a soft light from which the beings that resided on said planet could still observe the world around them. In one pale shroud of light, the brief clash of metal on metal could be heard, soon followed by a pained gasp and the further clattering of metal, before a voice quickly called out.
"Okay, time out a sec..." Jaune Arc asked as he roll off his side and into a awkward kneel, before giving up and falling back into a more comfortable position. Opposite of him, Pyrrha Nikos lowered her weapons with a pleased smile before making her way towards her partner and too sitting down. The two took a moment to relax and breathe in the pause in their training.
Jaune's eyes drifted off upwards, gazing mindlessly at the bright stars and fractured moon above as he took a large, calming breath, settling his still adrenaline-ridden body somewhat. As he did so, Jaune managed to catch a glimpse of what looked like a moving star, before he realised it was just his head swaying slightly. Probably from that roll he was just sent into. Still, he idily glanced to his side to his partner with curious expression.
"Hey, Pyrrha?" The young huntsman asked, his voice curious and edged with fatigue. The huntress looked back at him, a slightly puzzled look one would never have expected the Champion of Mistral to ever see, but nodded for him to continue. "Have you ever wondered if there is other life out there?" He pointed up vaguely above himself at the blackness of space. "You know, on other planets and that?" He continued.
The girl's eyes narrowed for a second, likely at the randomness of the question, but almost instantly turned thoughtful as she turned her emerald eyes to the stars above her.
"I suppose it would only make sense for other planets to also hold life on them as well, it's not like Remnant was the only one lucky enough to do it." Pyrrha replied with an amused grin at her own joke. But then her eyes turned to a curious combination of envy and curiosity as she added, "I wonder how their own lives exist. Do they have to deal with such dangers as our own? Or are they far more peaceful, and live without the need for fear or hatred...?"
The champion's lingering words left a brief void of conversation as both teens gazed into the stars above in a moment of silent contemplation...
"By the Emperor, will I ever get back to my brothers in one piece without a Geller failure?!"
No sooner then he had managed to conceptualise the thought, the glowing power field of his Omnissian Axe swung around in a wide arc, bisecting a trio of fettid, one-eyed monstrosities before him, their green, pulsing and contaminated bodies falling to the ground before disappearing in clouds of rotten flies and noxious smoke, his helmet's advance autosenses thankfully preventing his own infection, though he still took two large steps back to ensure it. There was no such thing as too safe with the foul Daemons of the Warp.
Techmarine-Brother Santus, of the Lamenter's Chapter, watched as the corpses around him finally began to disappear as reality reasserted it's hold on the ship once more. He gazed around the ruined terrian of the Plasma Drive Core of the Strike Cruiser Mournful Passage, the precious piece of technology thankfully undamaged. Though little could be said of the controls and displays that littered the gantries and platforms throughout the core. By now, he alone was left standing, the remaining mortal crewmen now little more the fested corpses that already had searing lasbolts burning away what remained, courtesy of his combat mechandendrite as he offered a silent prayer to both the souls of the fallen, and to the Omnissiah for letting their ship escape the Warp.
Lowering his icon of the Machine-God's wrath, Santus immediately attempted to connect his communications to his few brothers aboard the Mournful Passage.
"This is Brother Santus, the Plasma Drive is secure but I am the sole survivor." He declared on their unit's vox frequency, expecting a handful of replies from his fellow Astartes. A moment passed.
Then another.
"This is Brother Santus, Techmarine of the Lamenter's Chapter, requesting situation update." Santus repeated, this time aboard the ship wide communication's vox, one both their undeservingly unfortunate crew and Astartes both had access to. Yet again, he was met by complete, deafening silence.
Am I...the only survivor?
Such thoughts were unbecoming of one of His Angels of Death, Santus dismissed the idea for now as he turned to one of the few remaining terminals, inserting his robotic fingers into the lectern as his medical and utility mechandendrites went to work on his own damages at a mental command. The combat and servo arm attached to his armour's power pack remained on alert behind him for intrusion as Santus delved into the Mournful Passage, beeseching it's machine spirits and systems to reveal their damages and information to him, so that he could ascertain the ship's safety and catalogue their damages for repairs.
As he drifted in this semi-conscious state of both man and machine, he quickly found concerning news.
While the Plasma Drive was in fact running, the majority of the most vital systems, including the engines, weapons, shields and too many other to count, were offline or inoperable, while life signs across the ship bar his own location, none could be found.
While by no means definative proof, as machine spirits could be both tempermental and ill-natured at times and lie, the odds of such a thing occuring where an Astartes could be concerned was logically dismissable as impossible. A Space Marine's raw destructive potential always set most machine spirits at least slightly on edge.
But it did reveal he was, in fact the last remaining human aboard the vessel.
By now he had already found that, from what limited navigational and sensory equipment remained, he was beyond navigational charts, in some unknown reach of space. While such things would normally, as much as being randomly ejected into realspace in space and left to die in the void tended to happen to ships, Santus had thankfully been unusually fortunate given his circumstances and common thought belief regarding his brothers, and had in fact been ejected a short distance from a single planet orbiting a stable sun.
While the Mournful Passage's equipment was either too damaged or outright destroyed to get precise readings, the ship would detect life signs across the globe with four rather distinct masses. As his mind continued to be one with the machine he quickly came to the realisation that the ship was doomed. He lacked both supplies, manpower, the correct tools and so many more factors that it would take to return the Mournful Passage to it's proper glorious state as the Omnissiah demanded.
Finally disconnecting from the terminal, Santus let out a deep, frustrated and mournful sigh as he wiped some of the blood the soaked the hands of his still mustard yellow armour, the small black inquisitorial marking on his right forearm almost invisible behind the mess of red blood.
His mission was clearly a failure, the potential aspirants were no doubt dead, as was Brother-Sargeant Galles and the brothers under his command sent to locate worthy aspirants. His own personal task to ensure the ship's operation as well as the sanctity of his fellow Lamenter's gear was also now pointless, given the state of the ship and the crew. Around him, the last command he asked of the ship, that to shut down all non-essential systems and basically drift as a hulk until rescue could be found, hurt his soul as an affront to the valiant machine that managed to pull at least Santus to safety in one last ditch effort.
With one more long gaze across the now empty and bloodsplattered room, Sanctus wondered why his life had to be ruled by such devasation to the innocent, and an idle wish for a simplier universe, before he turned to exit the room, his mechandendrites coiling around his back as he set about to do his grim duty.
It had taken Santus twenty seven hours, thirty two minutes and five seconds to complete his duty as he finally gazed beyond the canopy of a Thunderhawk towards the planet that was to be, for now, his fate.
Within the gunship's hold were stacked the numerious supplies and devices he would need in order to survive down on this planet, as well as several crates of munitions for his personal bolt pistol, including a set of back up pistols, Brother-Sargeant Galles' chainsaw, Brother Blutt's sacred plasma gun, and the remaining thre bolters used by the other brothers of the fallen squad. Beyond that, there was a few explosives, a handful of laspacks for his combat mechandendrite should he have need of replacements, and five specially sealed containers that held the most precious cargo of all. His fallen brother's most vital geneseed, extracted personally by his medical tendril that had been customized to be capable by grim nessecity often demanded of to all Lamenters Astartes.
As the Thunderhawk entered atmosphere, the craft's limited sensors revealed to Santus more regarding the world's life. Specifically, it could detect vox signals between the four major masses he'd previously seen, as well as between other, minor locations around each. Santus couldn't help but grimace behind his helmet at the news.
That meant on one hand, the world was technologically advanced enough to communicate via their own vox system, however the lack of artifical orbitals meant whatever civilisation existed here was pre-spacefaring at best, or coming to enter the age of wide-scale industrialisation at worst. If he was fortunate, he might have discovered a world lost during the Age of Strife and was dwelled by humans.
Given the four prodominate masses of life, even if it was that humanity lived here, they were likely sharing this world.
The Thunderhawk began crashing into the lower atmosphere and began to glide through cloud and air under Santus' careful control. The Techmarine watched as he flew over grey mountains and verdant green forests, something that the human side of him appreciated while the Mechanicus side abhorred. His eyes drifted to the sensors once more, finding unknown life signs around him for miles around, and, with a heavy sense of relief and released edge that had been within him until now, the planet had human life.
Then his eyes hardened as instinct and knowledge only an Astartes could muster had him focus on a series of almost phantom readings. Through his own connection to the Thunderhawk, he heard as the craft's machine spirit forgave him but was unable to determine if it was life or not. It was very similar to the readings of Daemons trying to hide, it came from both Santus' own instinct and that of the battered but unbroken Lamenter's Thunderhawk he was communing with.
Before he could attempt to determine whether this world may have been a daemonworld in disguise, one of the potential 'daemons' suddenly seemed to be making a beeline straight for him. And even before his own considerable piloting experience could come and take him into evasive manunveurs, the hostile being slammed into one of the Thunderhawk's engines. The gunship, as if sensing it's own mortal wounding, immediately compensated by overdriving the remaining engine, seeking to push the craft as far as possible.
Damnable Lamenter's Luck it seemed had decided that Santus was not punished enough. By the Emperor, it seemed he had to win his way through this as well. Phoros would approve at least...
Santus thanked the loyal machine spirit that had long served the Lamenters as he desperately directed the Thunderhawk towards the closest mass of human life signs. Quickly, the sight of a dour, grey city with a port and best by mountains around it like natural defence on a geographic scale, and an enclosing man-made wall of considerable technological level around the city came into view. Before Santus could note more, he was forced to focus on his own landing. It was clear, he wasn't going to risk landing in the city, the hardened armour of the Thunderhawk made to smash through whatever it could on impact as a last resort weapon. The collateral to potential human lives was too great for the Lamenter to consider.
Thankfully, there was a nearby ridgeline overlooking the city, with a curious structure casting vigil from that position. Behind, around and in some cases, below it, was a particularly emerald shaded forest, which the Thunderhawk could detect both a few human life signs, as well as numerous of the cloaked hostiles.
Quickly calculating his trajectory, he aimed his gunship to crash as close as possible to the structure he had seen, and it seemed he would be crashing near it, but still several kilometres away, as well as facing a cliff face which had curious stone structures built into it.
Before he could appreciate it more however, the Thunderhawk slammed into soil as Santus' helmed head slammed into the chair he sat in, with enough impact to knock out even him.
"I swear, We did nothing!"
Ruby rolled her eyes amusedly as Blake continued to glare at Yang, convinced that team RWBY and JNPR had been called to the headmaster's office over something Nora and Yang had cooked up together. While it wouldn't have been the first time, and Ruby would know give her own, unmentioned involvement in some occasions that Weiss would never know the light of day about, this time at least, Ruby was certain they hadn't done anything worth talking to Ozpin about.
Weiss continued to fret by the door as Nora and Ren had a similar play going on as her own team, while Jaune merely sulked quietly as Pyrrha patted his back sympathetically.
The doors to the Headmaster's Office opened at last, and the two teams existed quickly and stood in front before the headmaster, who was sitting in his neat chair. The older man took a pleasant sip of his drink, before gesturing for Ruby and Jaune to sit at the two free chairs opposite of him. With a shared nervous look between leaders that felt the same pain, the two sat down.
"I'm sure you are all wondering why I called you here this morning." The headmaster began with a calm and professional voice. Not quite the one they'd expect from a telling off, but more a teacher giving out important information. Ozpin continued, "Thankfully, it is not over anything you might have done yet." He added, gaining a quick, nervous laugh that couldn't hide edge of relief from Ruby, before adding, "In truth, it's because I actually have something of a request to make of your teams. An offer, if you will."
That got everyone's attention.
Giving the headmaster a bright smile, Ruby nodded her head as the headmaster went to continue.
"Earlier this afternoon, in fact only an hour ago, something crashed into the Emerald Forest." Ozpin revealed dramatically, earning surprised looks from everyone in the room except himself as he merely went on speaking, "I was alerted to this by the cameras and other sensors we have in the forest to monitor the Grimm, and I have decided to offer to let your two teams be the first to investigate, along with a member of staff, of course."
The chance to investage a strange crash?
With a professional huntsmen?
Even if it was only to the Emerald Forest?
That basically sounded like a mission to Ruby.
It was hard to contain her squeel of delight, and even then it got out a little.
Jaune on the other hand, had a slightly concerned look on his face, but was otherwise nodding along. Behind him, Nora and Pyrrha both looked suitable excited, while even Ren's cool ninja energy still looked a bit more animated then normal. Ruby could imagine her own team had similar reactions behind her. Without hestiation, Ruby stood up with a wide grin.
"We'll gladly go help the investigation, Headmaster!" Ruby declared eagerly, earning her an amused but also greatful smile from Ozpin, who gestured for her to sit back down, which she, slightly embarassedly, did.
Ozpin took another sip from his mug, then spoke, "I do appreciate your enthusiasm Miss Rose, and the same from the rest of you all. As soon as you have all finished your lunch period, Miss Goodwitch will collect the teams and the eight of you shall assist her." He paused and gestured behind them all, revealing the stern Deputy of Beacon had in fact been present the entire time.
RWBY and JNPR collectively shared a shocked gasp of surprise, before Ozpin coughed, regaining their attention.
"Be sure to follow her every instruction. Miss Goodwitch is a vetern Huntress with considerable experience and skill. However, you will be expected to fight any Grimm you encounter, or anything else that should threaten you." Ozpin said with a tone that demanded it be remembered, not like someone that wants to force it on you, but desires you understand the seriousness of the situation that had even Nora nodding her head seriously. With a final, calming smile, Headmaster Ozpin gestured towards the elevator. "Thank you all for your time and for agreeing to take part in this. Know that you will be exempt from the rest of the day's lessons, as well as receive appropriate extra grades for your parts in this."
That added bonus, in the eyes of the students, merely sold the deal on the already convinced, who eagerly began to walk to the elevator, whisping amongst themselves as the elevator closed and they descended. But within the headmaster's office, Glynda Goodwitch walked up to her nominal employer but more importantly close friend and ally, and gave him a critical look.
Ozpin merely raised his hands in a disarming manner.
"I thought given what happened recently at the docks, as well as their own, independent nature, it would be benefitial to have those two teams assist you, as to not play favourites but to also help foster an already close friendship." The old man explained with a placating tone, one that seemed to pass whatever expectation Glynda's look had been searching for as it soften, but still had a slightly curious edge to it.
"I'm sure you have other reasons you want to do such a thing, but you aren't wrong." Goodwitch replied in a tone that suggested she was had an idea of what Ozpin was aiming for, but didn't entirely disapprove of.
The Headmaster just gave her a grandfatherly smile and said, "It will help them to learn about how the life of a huntsman can be in the real world. And we both know, despite appearances, they are all passing acceptably in their studies at this stage." Glynda gave him a nod with a slight roll of her eyes in amusement.
Ozpin turned to gaze out towards the Emerald Forest, around where the strange craft had crashed according to his knowledge.
What a curious turn of events...
Santus had no idea how long he could have been out for at first glance, however the display on his helmet lens read it had been no more then an hour. Acceptable paramaters given the circumstances in the Techmarine's eye. if not by Astartes standards. With a shake of his head, the Astartes sat up from the chair and looked out at the rock and dirt that covered the canopy. A small sliver of view remained, showing him buried at a 30 four degree angle from the ground. Given the lack of any sense of mechanical life around him, the aged Thunderhawk had flown it's last flight for the Lamenters Chapter, until Santus could repair it back to it's rightful glory.
Like usual.
He stepped around and slowly pried the cockpit door open, muttering a small apology to the now inert machine spirit that governed the door. He entered the hold, and saw that thankfully, all his wargear and supplies had remained where they were meant to with little visible damage thanks to thoughtful securing. He walked over to the containers of his brother's geneseed, quickly examined their contents and found them undamaged, thank the Emperor for that small mercy, even if it would now forever be a burden he must also now carry.
The back exit ramp had been torn in half, and half of it was outright missing, stuck in the dirt visible some metres away even at this angle. Santus walked up the ramp and looked out, seeing nothing in his sensors but foliage and minor life forms that lacked any visible means to harm him and quickly ran at the sight of him. He quickly marched back deeper into the hold, and began running armour checks. Thankfully, he was undamaged entirely, which was a stroke of luck even to an Astartes. Emperor, even the fact the Thunderhawk hadn't exploded on impact was a testiment to it's machine spirit's drive and determination to see him through, to which he would be ever thankful.
Quickly, he grabbed out his Omnissiah Axe, as well as a few grenades, bolt pistol magazines, and a few other tools such as an auspex and a former crew member's headset modified to vox to his helmet should he acquire aid and have need to contact them. Finally, he gathered up all his supplies and wargear, before organising it such a way to appeal all attraction, while he quickly cut a small section of plating out of the hull with empty space undernearth to seal away the geneseed.
Uttering another profound apology for his desecration, Santus had to admit as he used his plasma cutter to carefully reseal his hidden compartment, that he had to ensure it's safety before anything else, and the plating of the Thunderhawk was unlikely to be penetrated by much made on this world, unless the Eldar dwelled here.
Walking to the ramp, and stepping off with a loud thud that shook the ground and caused small trenches to form around his greaves, he stepped forward, planting his Omnissian Axe into the ground as he walked towards the stray piece of ramp door. Around him, other parts of the Thunderhawk, such as the much more weaker engines and stablising wings, had shattered and scattered across the now clear space around the Thunderhawk, which was crashed nose first into a small hill.
Grabbing the ramp door, Santus forced his armour servos to pull the debris towards the still vulnerable Thunderhawk.
It had almost behind two hours by the time Miss Goodwitch had led the two teams to the crash site. According to their teacher, it was just a few minutes away from view.
"So, any idea who crashed here?" Yang asked with a cocky tilt of her head. Despite that, there was a noticable sign of tiredness over her, much like every one else other than the true Huntress present. Despite that, all eight still were as eager as when they had left.
"No, it's not something we recognise. It could be some makeshift craft, but it we have no idea where it came from or who made it" The Teacher replied, seeing no reason to lie about what they were facing. "Be alert in case there is any injured, or if there is any Grimm around to threaten them." She continued as the group continued to walk before Jaune spoke up.
"What if whoever was in that thing turns out they want to threaten us?" The blond swordsmen asked rather matter-of-factly, to which Miss Goodwitch gave the teen both a critical but also pleased look, as if she was glad he thought to ask of that possibility.
The deputy found her hand already resting on her riding crop, instinct prempting her move as she answered, "In that situation, I will personally see to the situation, and ensure your own safeties. That being said, be cautious and ensure you protect yourselves at all times." The hard reality of the huntress' words set an edge amongst the students, though none would deny their teacher was speaking the truth.
Soon, they came upon the crash site. And it was a really a crash site.
It had been obvious, what with the two dozen odd trees smashed aside by a large, yellow brick that vaguely resembled some kind of airship that had crashed nose first into a small hill. Yellow, metal debris littered the area and the back rear hatch of the airship had been somehow crudely welded back on, on one half, while the other half was still structurally intact despite the damage it must have taken.
The group of hunters walked towards the strange, thing, in silence while the observed the destroyed trees around them. It's luck it hadn't crashed into Beacon itself.
However, before anyone present could think to make an order, a roar echoed around them, the group turning quicking to see a trio of Ursa Majors edging towards the airship from their left flank. Miss Goodwitch frowned narrowly at the annoying delay the Grimm dared to cause, but before either her or any of the students chose to move to engage, a sudden yellow blur rushed out from the Grimm's own left flank.
It moved at the speed of a huntsmen, and a pretty fast one at that given the bulk of their massive, yellow armour. Shockingly around nine to ten feet tall, clad in the most advance looking mech suit, made of some indescribable metal with strange metal tenticles coming from a large pack on it's back, along with a large robotic arm. It swung it's weapon, an axe as big as it that crackled with blue lightning, much to Ruby's amazement and Nora's excitement, towards the first Ursa, that was barely taller that the mech and which stood just beneth it's eyes, and cleaved the massive Grimm in half with a single blow.
The other two Ursi turned to face this mysterious fighter, but before either could swing it rush forward again, cutting the arm clean from on Ursa before swinging the axe in a wide arc and letting it impact on the Ursa.
The Grimm, renown for it's endurance, vapourised.
Finally, the last Ursa Major managed to land a massive roundhouse swing at the mech. It's claws slammed into a hard metal pauldron that sported a black and white checkered field surrounding a red a heart. A curious emblam or badge, it was mirrored by a small, intrict design across the right forearm in black, in the shape of an =][=. It dented heavily, but remained solidly in one piece, and the mech merely released an arm from the axe, brought it to it's waist, drew the biggest excuse you could call a SIDEARM, and proceeded to blow the entire head of the Ursa away.
The mysterious yellow mech then turned it's baleful red head toward the hunters as it planted the massive axe into the ground, the massive handcannon at his side as then the strange sense of almost transhuman dread washed over them.
Dun dun dun.
So. Meet Santus, The Lamenter's Techmarine, with typical Lamenter's curse still being on him as he now is stuck on Remnant. Who is he? What has he done? What will he do?
Hope you all want more because I honestly have a lot of ideas for this.
As always all advice and criticism is appreicated, A.D
