Roboute Guilliman stood before the Captain General of the Custodes and Archmagos Belisarius Cawl. On the table between them was all the information gathered by the 'inspectors' to the Andromedan ships.
"This is incredible" The Custodes breathed. His face was showing awe at the information. "They are still armed to the level of the Great Crusade."
"Better than that. My Artisans and Magi gave detailed examinations of their war gear." A spindly mechanical arm picked up and handed a parchment to the Primarch and Custodes. "Reports of Augmented Void armor and a substantial amount of Volkite, Plasma, and Bolter weaponry. Las weapons were mostly ornamental but functional."
"They are armed like the Solar Auxilia. That is no small threat." The Captain General read the inventory shown in the reports.
"Father may have sent a contingent to give the fledgling colony fleet a chance in the new galaxy." Roboute was running through the scenarios as they spoke. "What will the honor guard consist of?"
"50 Cerastus knight Castigators armed with modified Thunderstrike gauntlets on both arms. They have what I can only call Knight grade Guardian spears, the bolter has been replaced with twin linked Volkite cannons." The Captain general answered.
"What horrors required that? Was the standard warblade and bolt cannons not enough?"
"I can answer that, Lord Guilliman. Analysis of the damage on old armor and wargear found acid and claw marks that match 90% to those made by Tyranids."
"Are you saying they were sent to colonize the Source!?" The two demi humans were in awe of such a feat. To go against such a foe and win was unheard of even in the imperium.
"The answer is inconclusive. We need more data to formulate a conclusion." Cawl responded, lifting more papers to examine with his multitude of arms.
"Another thing Lord Primarch. My men report that the Andromedans refuse to remove their helmets. Even the Battle brothers."
"This is not unheard of. We have the Death korps of Kreigg who do the same."
"I know sir. These people are refusing orders to."
"Are your men creating bad faith between us and the Andromedans? We don't know their circumstances. They have been at war in an infested Galaxy. With a foe we can hardly bring down. Maybe it is a battle doctrine to always be ready. Ask your men if they are more tense without their weapons than with. If so they have shown more than enough good will. I will not have a war start above our holy homeworld because of a diplomatic faux pas!"
The outburst startled the Captain General. He bowed in apology. "I'm sorry my lord. I will have my men stand down in that regard. I will have them focus on the readiness of the honor guard for the memorial."
"Speaking of that, Cawl, has the inspection been finished?"
"Yes, the contents of the monument have been examined in length. Every sarcophagus was opened in accordance with their burial rites. They awoke two of the ancient knights to watch the proceedings."
"Stop, did you say they woke up the knights?"
"Affirmative. Upon this knowledge coming to light a mandatory inspection of the Throne mechanicum was conducted." Cawl paused.
"What did they find?" The Captain General pushed.
"A form of tech heresy. The Throne was replaced with a large dreadnought piloting unit. Inside was reported the remains of the largest space marine on record. An argument between our tech priests and theirs awoke the sleeping marine. When he saw the golden armor of the custodes he instinctively kneeled to give reverence."
"So how was this handled?"
"The Andromedans told us to leave their ancients alone. Before ushering us to complete our task."
Guilliman sighed. "Because of our differing mentalities our relations are falling apart."
The door of the room opened as a well dressed man walked in. Guilliman was going to have the man flogged until he saw the stylized 'I' around his neck. "What can I do for you Inquisitor?"
"Do not give me that. I have sent multiple requests to have my men assess the purity of those newcomers. Yet we are lambasted at every turn."
"Watch your tone! Do you forget who you are talking to?" The captain general yelled, a hand going to his resting spear.
"Do you want to be excommunicated?" The man threatened.
"That is exactly why you are not allowed near them. They are from a time before the ministorum, let alone your organization, were an idea. To them you're the heretic for worshiping a god at all." Guilliman was done with the man. "The truth is I wanted to dismantle your religion but seeing how deeply ingrained it is I left it alone. It holds the Imperium with enough hope to function. And before you try to have me executed note that I am a Loyal son of The Emperor. Killing me would be the signing of humanity's death warrant for chaos. Those men and women are operating on the truth laid down by my Father's own words. So you will be rejected yet again. If I hear one more word about it you will be censured."
This took the group aback. Guilliman was always at odds with the ministorum. They had caused their own fair share of the damage against the Imperium. They even caused a civil war.
"You dare to speak to me like this, you upstart!"
Guilliman had enough of the over pompous man. He stepped toward him, grasping the front of his over coat. "Captain General. Have this man escorted to a cell under the palace. His crime is conspiracy of treason."
This brought a smile to the Custodes' lips. "Yes my lord." The man was taken and his inquisitorial rosette removed. The whole time he was dragged away he screamed of heresy and traitors. Those words fell on deaf ears.
"I will not have another brother turn on me. I need to speak to him on equal ground." Guilliman turned to the table again. "Archmagus, please continue your report on the memorial."
"Yes, the contents were the heavily damaged armors and urns containing the fallen's ashes. Not all had ashes but enough. It seems that only the armor was recoverable most of the time."
"At least they have made it home."
On that they all agreed, even the crazy Magus.
On the ship the awoken knights were being given the history of the past 10,000 years. The heresy was excluded for their sanity. Instead the custodes spoke of a force that eradicated those fallen legions and that they had somehow managed to wound the Emperor. This enraged the knights they wanted to march against the enemies of the Imperium. The Custodes ordered them to stand down which they did.
"The Imperium is far from what you knew. The worship of The Emperor is standard. The old Truth has fallen to the wayside. His body has been interred upon the golden throne so that his light will guide us."
"The Imperial Truth is the burning of religion for science. Have we fallen so low?"
"The word bearers would be pleased. They got their wish."
This small conversation made the Custodes grip their spears. They longed to tell them. To yell that those legions not only turned away but turned their blades at the Imperium. He held his tongue seeing these ancient behemoths converse with naivete and ignorance.
"Let's go over this again." The Custodes began to run through what they needed to do on the day of the parade. It was simple but it needed to happen as they described.
Soon the day arrived. The nearest landing port was tens of miles from the palace walls. The path was lined with opulent standards and banners, all bearing the Imperial Eagle and seal.
The escort Guardsmen and a unit of five Custodes began the long trek from The Imperial Palace to the landing pad. The Andromedans refused to march next to their venerated dead and entured ancients. Stating that the quest is over for the ancients. It had yet to end for them.
The only one to march would be the commander of the fleet. He would receive the edict confirming the return of the honored dead. One by one fifty dropships descended from the sky. Each dropping a single Cerastus Knight Castigator. Each one woke, their Vox roaring with praise to The Emperor and glory for Terra.
Armael watched the ancients pick up their spears to get into formation. Massive ceremonial cloth had been placed on their shoulder armor giving them the appearance of Cataphractii terminator plate that they once used ten millennia ago.
An Andromedan marine approached holding a large battle damaged standard. The black, tattered cloth once held the art of the old legion. Now long faded and forgotten like themselves. Armael took the standard from his brother marine.
The weight of it was nothing for him. Though he could feel his shoulders sag as if the world was on his shoulders. The battles this one flag had seen. The brotherhood, the comradery, The Emperor, these things gave it weight. With a grunt Armael held it tall as he stepped off the ship holding the Standard in front of him.
Sol's light touched the cloth for the first time in 10,000 years. The knights turned and saw it through the neural link in their walking war tombs. As Armael approached, the banner held high, the knights banged the hilts of their Savior Glaives on the landing pad.
"For The Emperor!" Their vox casters cried. It was at this time the escorts arrived. The Custodes watched the scene unfold. The ancient's pride in their legion is evident.
"Commander Armael, we have brought a palanquin for you and the standard. Please step aboard while we wait for the memorial."
Armael nodded, stepping up onto the palanquin and moving to the front. There he stood like a statue locking his Contemptor plate terminator armor's joints making sure the Standard will be seen by all.
Now it was time for the final ship. It was massive, when the doors opened ten knights stepped forward. Five were tethered to the mausoleum inside. Those five began to pull as the anti-gravity drives were activated allowing the large structure to move.
The structure was covered in delicate artwork depicting long forgotten wars and achievements. The lives of those entombed were there for all to see. A single blank spot was left on an engraved standard. Ready for an artisan to carve the symbol of the legion given by The Emperor.
"We are ready." The lead Custodes said, motioning for the knights and Guardsmen to form up. The knights formed two rows in front of the mausoleum and two rows behind. This did not include the ten whose jobs it was to move it. The Guards formed units to surround the whole procession and act as security. Some of the newer recruits were staring in awe at the hands of The Emperor standing beside one of his angels of death.
It was the same for the Knights as well. To the citizens they were relics of an ancient time. Forgotten and replaced after the ascension of The Emperor to his golden throne.
Once ready the Custodes nodded to the Guard's commander. "Soldiers! March!" The sounds of a hundred boots stepping as one filled the air. Next to it were the thunderous stomps of the knights as they moved with them. Ahead of them the road was long, from the buildings could be seen curious faces watching. On the road were notable lesser nobles. Given the duty to cheer at the returning heroes.
At the palace Guilliman was moving with the Ecclesiarch and his retinue. Behind them were two Custodes acting as escorts.
"Why am I to give a prayer for some non believers? They are no better than heretics." The old man grumbled.
"Because they are loyal Astartes of the Imperium. They gave their lives with his name and the Imperium on their lips." The retort was short and efficient.
"If you would condemn those that are on a mission from your god, my father, then are you not a heretic?"
"You dare question my faith?"
"No, I question your logic. If you don't you will be denounced. Who will the people trust more? A human who calls himself the voice of The Emperor or A son of The Emperor who has laid eyes upon him on his throne?" The words hung in the air as the reality sank in.
What Guilliman said was true. Many of the faithful would flock to his side as would others flock to the Ecclesiarch. In essence creating another heresy where both sides are fighting for the imperium.
"Fine, but I am not happy about this."
"Duly noted."
They marched to the Ecclesiarch's throne Palanquin. He had a status to maintain as the slaves pushed his throne out into the light of Sol.
Outside the air was buzzing with anticipation of the arrival of the procession. A Lucifer black runner came up and announced that the procession was nearing the Ascensor's gate.
Just then Guilliman felt something pass through him. He turned his head fast, snapping in all directions looking for a threat. The lucifer black touched two fingers to his comms device listening intently.
"My lord it seems that the knights have stopped. Our men are ready for any hostile actions but we may need reinforce-"
The air filled with blaring horns as presumably the nights began to move. The lucifer black again touched his comms. Stunned at what he heard.
"What has happened?" The Ecclesiarch demanded.
"They are praising The Emperor. They remember, they are calling for honor to Atlas and his father The Unifier, The Emperor. Glory to The Imperium."
Upon hearing the name Atlas, Guilliman felt a sharp pain in his mind as memories suppressed for thousands of years came to the forefront of his mind. His hand shot up in a vain attempt to try and ease it.
One of these memories showed a figure as massive as his own father hiding in the shadows. His brother Vulcan seeming to be small in comparison as they spoke. He remembered this meeting. It was before the fall of the second and eleventh. They were celebrating the finding of Jaghatai Khan.
The figure spoke softly and with a strict formality. As time passed and the memory strengthened the figure went from a shadow to showing a subdued version of their father. All the facets that made him so godly were gone. Here stood just a massive man, a primarch, a puppet.
That last part struck Guilliman as odd. Why would he think of his own brother as a puppet? Before he could dive deeper into these newfound memories a Custodes called out to him. "Lord Primarch?"
Guilliman realized the weakness he was showing. "I am fine. It seems Father has given the knights and myself a gift. Come we must go down to greet them. The Emperor has given his blessing."
This statement peeved the Ecclesiarch to no end. He wanted the newcomers gone. They were non-believers and heretics. If he had his way the Inquisitors would have wiped them out of existence.
In the far distance the Lion's gate opens as the procession makes its way through. The wait was excruciating for mere humans. For the Custodes and Guilliman it was another day. Their minds worked differently. The two Custodes spent most guard duties together and were dubbed as "The Twins". They would spend their time on guard playing a mental game of Regicide. Only calling out their moves by the board numbers. For Guilliman he was running through the strategic options of thousands of happenings in the Imperium. Where to send men, what forge world needed resources the most. It was what he was made for after all.
When they were finally in front of them the crowd was in a fervor as the knights knelt. Armael jumped down an air of pride around him as the once blank standard was now stark black. The symbol is torn but proud. It depicted an arch roof supported by a pillar on either side. In the center was a man hunched under the weight as he formed the central column.
"Hail the Emperor, Glory to the Imperium and his sons!" Armael cried before kneeling as well. The Knights repeated the call, their modulated voices booming for all to hear.
Guilliman could feel their pride. He stepped forward examining the battle standard. He then looked down at the kneeling marine. He lifted his hand as a signal for Armael to rise.
"You have done well, son of the Titan. Let me announce to the Imperium the name that you shall carry into the future." Guilliman grasped the standard above Armael's hand. For the first time in the Imperium a Primach has held the standard of his brother's legion. Armael relinquished his legion's standard.
Guilliman walked toward the mausoleum, the standard grasped firmly in his hand. He activated the vox caster he was fitted with so that his voice would broadcast to the whole of Terra.
"People of the Imperium. Let it be known today that the borders of our vast empire have grown three fold. My brother, forgotten to history, has sent a fleet to our holy home to announce his victory."
Around the world the citizens cheered as the knowledge of another living son of the Emperor was announced.
"He has much work to do before he can return. In his stead he has sent his sons. They ask for one thing. That the dead may rest on Holy Terra. Their home they could never see again as they stood by my father when he created the legions. Should we welcome home the sons of Terra in their ceremite tomb?"
Again the world rose in sincere cheers.
Guilliman paused for effect letting the moment ride. "Then it is with a heavy heart that I am retiring the name of the legion once known only as The Titans in honor of their father. It seems only fitting that the name should rest with the fallen sons of Terra. From now until the end of time their name shall be shared with the home they carved out for themselves. Their home is the Andromeda galaxy. Let their Legio Titanicus share in this name as well. Rise Guardians of Andromeda! Let the galaxy see you in your glory."
Guilliman planted the Standard on the mausoleum symbolically ending the old legion and starting the new one. As if materializing from the air a Custodes handed Guilliman a second standard with its cloth furled. The primarch handed this to Armael.
"Show the people your rising star."
Armael took the standard marching out to the back of the procession to where the people could see him. Once there he looked out. Under the helmet he was a whirlwind of emotions. "My name is Armael, commander of the Andromedan 1st memorial fleet. 10,000 years ago my venerable brothers and legion were created by The Emperor himself for the unification of this Galaxy, alongside others." Armael looked back at Guilliman, who only gave a shallow nod in affirmation.
"Now I stand here in the light of The Emperor, reborn! We are the Legionis Andromeda, the sons of Atlas! All hail The Emperor, all hail The Imperium!"
Armael slammed the bottom of the standard down with a resounding crash unfurling the new standard. An ethereal woman in a sea of stars, the iconography that they already bore proudly.