Chapter Seventeen
…
Let us sing then and let us sing together,
Of golden palaces and forests of winter gossamer.
Where weapons crack amid powers of Lightning and Thunder,
The Emperor of Mankind and the Hands of the World's Potter,"
-Snape Snivellus Severus, Royal Minstrel, Great Crusade
…..
Fenris, the Great Crusade
Moragana watches in awe as the Emperor of Mankind, AKA John enters the large arena facing Leman Russ. Her estranged son has a confident look in his face as he faced his father. Both are bare of their tops showing off their large impressive bodies bursting with muscles and thick skin while wearing only loincloths beneath their undies. Morgana resists the urge to smack her face with a delicate hand as the two circles one another. Russ would not be cowed by the presence of the Emperor alone and have demanded that he fight for the right that he be called the Great Wolf's father This only of course was met by more cheers from the watching populace who are currently exchanging bets with one another about who would win in this oncoming bout.
Staring at them from the corner of her eye, Morgana can't help but compare them mentally to the Vikings of the old world. Loud, rough, uncouth, and smelling like they need a bath for a full day, they have the epitome of wildness on them. Seeing their world from space, Morgana can't fault them for their culture.
Fenris even from orbit is a feral world mostly filled with ice and snow with only a few summer months between. As a result of this, majority of the planet is wild and untamed and with the humans that live on it banding together in large pockets of villages and towns, trading with one another for survival. Long story short it Is a world that is not easy for humans to live in. Other than the ferocious predators that lurk on the wild, the very weather is an enemy to them. That is why even though they are all dressed in furs that seem to look like they need a lot of maintenance, Morgana approved of this world where her son fell. She can see it in their eyes, their camaraderie to one another. These are a people who value camaraderie above all. Though she has to admit that they can be a little rough a tumble a bit.
"SMACK!" a powerful thud followed by unhappy groans from everyone makes the Empress shake her head as she turns to see John looming over the fallen form of the knocked out Primarch bearing anime ducks surrounding his head with a rather large concussion on it.
"Do you really have to knock him out?" asks Morgana aloud as the Emperor grins boyishly at her accepting the rather large bucket full of ale from one of the bystanders. With a nod from everyone he pours it at the fainted Russ who roars in anger shaking his lanky hair and beard like a wet dog much to the amusement of the onlookers.
"What? I am having fun," John replies simply making Helaena shake her head at his response.
"Boys,"
…..
The Citadel, Imperium Nihilus
"Citadel control, this is the Orion, requesting permission to release dock clamps, all crews onboard,"
"Orion this is Citadel Control, got you loud and clear. Permission granted, Emperor be with you," the response comes from the radio as the futuristic little ship releases its docking clamps from the side of the giant space station orbital control slowly drifting away while being careful of its larger present day designed cousins that are also docked.
The Citadel it seems is getting loud and well-known throughout Imperium Nihilus as more and more ships start to gravitate on it in the hopes of either refuge, trade, resupply, logistics, command, reinforcements or simply to gaze at the wonder created by the designs of the Empress of Mankind. Currently it hosts different people from fleeing Planetary Governors and a hundred other nobilities and diplomats of every kind, thousands of refugees from planets overrun by Xenos or the forces of Chaos, Inquisitors with their retinues, Space Marine Chapters of every kind for one purpose or the other, Rogue Traders looking for a fortune, Imperial Regiments that are lost and cut off from command, remnants of Imperial Navy fleets that have been decimated either through one reason or another, or simply a silent Grey Knight squad for one of their classified missions here at Imperium Nihilus.
By Roubutte Gulliman's advice, Helaena has appointed the sole command of the Citadel to fall into the hands of Chapter Master Dante of the Blood Angels. Her grandson by the line of Sanguinis apparently is resourceful, having a good tactical mind, a great warrior and a genius on the battlefield. He, according to Gulliman apparently delayed an entire Hive Fleet bearing down on his homewold of Baal with extremely limited resources. Even with a great disadvantage on his side and heavily outmatched, he still managed to inflict horrendous damage to the Hive Fleet before the fleets of the Indomitus Crusade arrive, crushing the Hive Fleet in an epic victory.
She personally met the Chapter Master to be given the honor of commanding the Citadel after the usual kowtowing and groveling. She had to admit that she was glad that the legacy of Sanguinis her fallen son had fallen to great hands. The Chapter Master sufficed it to say impressed her with his bearing, the way he talked and the way he planned. He was not cold-hearted, but he was not also illogical to put his feelings for the sake of the greater good. For the problematic part of the Imperium that was Imperium Nihilus away from the light of the Astronomican and besieged at all sides, one needs a balanced commander above all to lead mankind's armies and navy against the darkness. Somehow Helaena had got a good feeling that the Chapter Master of the Blood Angels would fulfill her directives above and beyond that she would expect him to be.
"Warp Shields active, preparing for Warp Rift," intones the pilot of the Orion bringing Helaena back to the present as she focuses back to her seat on the bridge. Beside her at the right seated in bigger chairs designed specifically for their giant sizes are Guilliman, Dorn, Anduin, El Johnson. At her left the smaller and lither forms of Luna and Lelith Hesperax are seated on regular chairs with the latter grumbling about scratchy belts.
"Are you sure this is going to work mother?" asks a nervous Corax currently strapped in a glowing chair at the very center of the command deck with pieces of wiring attached to his helmet.
"Yes, Corax," answers Helaena patting the shoulder of the Raven Lord. "Just clear your mind and focus on where you said that you saw the ship of your brother and the ship will do the rest,"
"I'm not too sure about this about this. What if I messed up?"
"Baby," comments Dorn with a snigger making the black clad Primarch whirl at his brother, the lenses of the helmet he wears glinting in anger.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing," answers the Primarch of the Imperial Fists innocently….too innocently which does not help matters,"
"I am not a baby!"
"Well you are acting pretty scared brother," ribs the Lion making Dorn snigger again at his side.
"It is the Warp! I have good reason to be scared! Especially since I ended up lost last time for ten thousand years," points out Corax waving his arms in front of him pissed off.
"Yes, you're right, doesn't change the fact that you're shaking in your boots though," points out Guilliman. This time the other Primarchs can't hold it and bursts out laughing as their black clad brother swells in anger like a balloon.
"Fine! Watch me! I Will guide this ship to that floating wreck!" he growls out in anger before focusing back his attention at the bridge glass, the indecision bothering Corax from before no longer present as he is too infuriated by his brothers' teasing. Helaena just raises an eyebrow at her other sons who gives her a lot of thumbs up before returning their attentions back at the deck. She just mentally sighs. For beings ten thousand years old, they simply are acting like little children.
"Beginning jump in Five…..Four…..Three….Two….One….Hyperdrive engaged!" immediately a hole into the insanity that is the Warp immediately opens up pulling the Orion inside like a rubber band.
Metal blast doors automatically closes the binds of the windows of the ship shielding the crew of the deck from the madness that staring into the Immaterium will bring. Instead a green field indicator like a holographic map appears on where the front glass of the ship should be pinging the location of the Orion and what appears to be other red blips around it with other giant masses of swirling red.
"Are those red dot things-," Guilliman begins only to be cut off by his mother.
"Daemons, yes," she answers simply. "The bigger ones are primal ones, things are a lot meaner than your average daemon. The swirls on the sides that looks like rotations are bumps on the Warp which can be hazardous for ships to pass. That is why ships sometimes are late when they broke off and pass through these red zones. This way we can pass through the Warp Currents without having too much of an issue of crashing into a time dilation zone,"
"This is priceless!" exclaims Dorn looking at the holographic map in front of them in awe. "Imagine what we could do if we have these implemented on our ships. No more lost fleets or delayed reinforcements. Everything would be exactly as we planned it to be,"
"Exactly my son; during the golden age of humanity believe it or not, technology such as these is common among every ship that wants to use the Warp as a method of travel," says Helaena relishing at the awe struck expressions of her sons.
"Too bad the Mechanicus would not be able to fully reproduce this en-masse. The technology required to replicate such technology is already beyond any of the engineers at this era," sighs Helaena.
"Still, I admit Empress that this is an ingenious way of travel, not bad for a younger species," comments Lelith.
"Just admit that the Aeldari did not even possess this kind of technology at the height of your Empire's power," says Helaena smugly earning him with a scowl from her bed warmer slash lover. Unfortunately their playful banter is cut off when the floating orb of Oddball floats near Helaena.
"Your majesty, all tracking systems online, ready to pinpoint location,"
"Very well, good job Oddball. Corax my boy, I guess everything is up to you now," says Helaena looking at the Raven Lord who suddenly looked panicky.
"Mother, I do not even know what to do!" he starts to protest only to scowl heavily at the sight of his brother Dorn who are having his recorder on while the others are huddled around him.
"Please tell me you have that recorder on,"
"Of course I do, this is priceless!" Dorn manly giggles to the Lion followed by more sniggering from the rest.
"Turn that bloody thing off!" roars Corax angrily half off from the glowing chair he is sitting already only to be glued back on it by the telekinetic power of their mother making him sit ramrod straight.
"Stop acting like a child Corax. Focus, relax your mind and remember the image where you saw the Hrfankl," chides Helaena walking at the trapped Primarch's form.
"That's it mother?" he asks.
"That's it, now please focus for the more time we stay in here floating in the middle of the Warp, the more the chance there is for daemons to be attracted to our ship. Now focus Corax,"
"Okay, okay I will," says the Raven Lord taking a deep breathe before closing his eyes.
After a minute, a bleep on the map in front of them sounds followed by a green line that seems to be getting clearer by the second. "Location pinpointed your majesty, we have an accurate designation of our target. Establishing course route to follow navigation protocols," declares Oddball, the ship lurching as its engines powered up and begin moving.
"Well that was easy," comments Anduin. "I thought it would be more spectacular,"
"The Golden Age of Mankind prides itself on its simplicity and forwardness Anduin. Why bother making it complicated and difficult when there's an easier route," answers Helaena. "Besides, the more simple a work is, the lesser the chance of the one doing the work on making a mistake,"
"As long as we don't attract daemons into our way there, then I would have no issues," grunts Dorn turning off the recorder now that their source of fun is concentrating on making sure the route remains active.
BOOM! A powerful rattle shakes the entire ship rattling everyone's teeth.
"We have a breach on the hangar deck, immaterium entities have poured through before the shield reorients itself. Total number of daemons seventy-five," reports Oddball making Helaena sniff at a sheepish looking Dorn.
"You just have to jinx us my son. Go all of you and make sure that those daemons not run rampant around my ship. It sure beats all of you standing around here doing nothing,"
Her four boys are only too happy to obey as they exit the bridge.
…
Somewhere in the Immaterium
In the realm of pain and pleasure where the youngest of the Chaos gods dwell, Slaanesh looks up from his throne as he turns his head upwards before snarling in anger. If he has a sense of smell, he might have smelled something extremely bad like a bad case of cigarette being blown into the air and left there. From where he sits he can see it through the millions of glass dimensions of the Empyrean, a single craft blazing literally with white light, an anathema to everything around it. It is a far cry to the blazing beacon that is the Corpse Emperor of Terra, but it blazes nonetheless making his eyes hurt and his being recoil at its very presence. Of course he knows who it is, the thrice accursed Empress of Terra, the Regent of the damned Emperor. She has been a thorn on their side for a while now, murdering the Chaos gods' chosen primarchs rendering their souls to cinders on their defeats and deaths disabling them to be resurrected by their fallen patrons.
That is one thing in fact that Slaanesh gloats over his brothers. Unlike them, he hasn't yet sent his own champion, Fulgrim to try his luck against his former parent making him preserve his own forces while his brothers tried and failed to bring down the Empress with their best weapons.
Slaanesh has zero desire to challenge the Empress unless she buts in his agenda. Normally he would not even blink at her intrusion in the Warp, letting it pass. However this close to his realm in the Citadel of Pleasures and the speed of her ship traveling on what seems to be cruising speed and it is basically a challenge to his face. He cannot simply ignore it lest it be seen as weakness in the eyes of the other gods' and of course, an example that cannot be tolerated for his servant. No, he has to act in a way that would send a message but at the same time maintain his level of strength. He would not make the same mistake as that of his brothers sending his best bet and fall to the folly of pride. No, sending out his Daemon Prince is out of the question. Instead he just might have something that would be enough to send a message but at the same time not risk his ace too much.
"Lucius, come to me," he intones, his will echoing across the entire Warp.
….
The Hrfankal, Space Unknown
His arms are numb and burning, coloured with whatever residue that serves as blood for the daemons of the Warp. His heart is thudding heavily inside his chest and so does with the blood thumping in his brain. His ears have long blot out the screams of the dying and the fallen as he focuses instead on another horde of mutated abberations, Warp Spawn coming at him in lumbering strides. His vision is blurry but through the haze is a razor sharp focus.
Funnily enough this reminds him of his time as a young boy back at Fenris when he took the rights to become a man, facing off a large Shrrg, a giant ice wolf clad in nothing but a loin cloth and a spear. It is the same feeling he is feeling right now as he faces off with the Warp abominations that assailed him and his slowly dwindling retinue. It is not fear, for fear holds nothing for a Primarch like him, rather it is a heightened sense of things, a narrow vision in a too wide corridor.
He snarls, spit flying from his mouth, his beard caked with blood, unknown substances of liquids and grime as he hefts his massive battle-axe as he faces the charging abominations. "RAAAGGGGHHHH!" he roars shaking the battle-ridden corridor with his cry. "Come at me you sniveling Warp-bitten cowards! Come at me and face your doom!" he challenges as his sons formed up behind him, their shields ready and waiting.
The Warp abominations slam into the line like a sledgehammer forcing the personal guard of Leman Russ to back up a step or two. If it is any other man hefting such shields, they might have been turned to a pancake already from the sheer force of strength of the push. As it is, the superhuman strength of the Space Marines bode well as they bore the charge before with a signal from their father, the shields push back throwing the entire front line of the Daemonic charge into disarray. Immediately swords, axes, and makeshift weapons pierce forwards cutting down daemons by the dozens before the shields close once more making the warp abominations bash themselves fruitlessly against it. Normally they might have shot to pieces already their foes if not for the fact that their bolters have long since run out of bolter rounds even with the extensive large amount of ammo reserves that the Hrfankal's hold has. None of the remaining crew of the Hrfankal has any idea how long they have been in the Warp. In fact they have even lost count of the times they have been assailed by daemons and Traitor Astartes. Each battle reduces their numbers a little at a time until only a company remains. Now here they are again fighting another wave of daemons endlessly. Now the Space Wolves are reduced to fighting against their foes in honest Close Quarters Combat.
"PUSH!" with a mighty heave, the shields bashed against the daemons again throwing them off before the weapons of the Space Wolves bite into them cutting through unliving flesh, sinew and Primarch Russ, for it is Russ leading his sons himself makes an exception, the modified battle-axe he is holding swiping left and right bisecting four of the unliving within seconds.
The Space Wolves however are not fighting alone. With a trumpeting roar, a balding man with a braided horsetail at the top of his head charge through the throng, his lightning claws shearing through meat like pieces of paper rendering them to pieces. A pair of screaming daemons also tried attacking his blind side but with a twisting motion the giant of a man swings at their direction, shearing claws piercing both chests. Raising to the air the couple of abominations with sheer brute strength, he roars before hurling them at their fellows throwing them off their feet.
"Good throw brother!" chuckles Leman Russ kicking off a daemon trying to cut through the swaths of modified shields.
"These ones are not too strong compared to last time," comments Jaghatai Khan, Primarch of the White Scars bisecting another row of Daemons swiftly as easy as breathing. "I guess we can be thankful of small mercies,"
"Hmmf!" the Space Wolves Primarch harrumphs grabbing a fallen form of a daemon before using his prodigious strength hurls it like a cannonball at the next group, the strength of the throw making the impacting force explode killing another of its brethren.
"AllFather look!" a sudden shout from one of his sons makes the Primarch of the Space wolves turn to the side of a window through the bulkhead the image of a ship coming alongside the Hrfankl. It is smaller than the Hrfankly by an extremely large margin but the very sight of a ship bearing the Imperial Aquila is more than enough to bring the fires of hope back for Russ and the rest of his retinue.
"Told you they would not forget us brother," declares Jaghatai spearing through the chin another daemon walker who tries out outflank him in his moment of placidity.
"Yes, you are right! It is one ungodly small ship though!" harrumphs Russ before focusing back to the battle in livelier manner than before. "Help has arrived boys! We are going him soon. Now let's kill these thrice accursed things!"
His bodyguard company is only too happy to roar their approval before jumping once more back to the fray.
…
Hrafnkel, one of the many Airlocks
The sound of something thudding can be heard through the long unused hallways of the Hrafnkel. It is followed by a hissing sound of depressurization and then the sound of bolt welders cutting through metal. In the span of a minute, sparks erupt through the sealed airlock slowly going into a circle shape that reach end to end before it stops. Something heavy smacks the metal making the airlock seal dent, a second impact throws it off to the other end of the hallway passage where it clangs loudly, the sound echoing into the empty halls.
"You are getting old brother,"
"Shut up Anduin, and get going," the grumbling voice of Dorn sounds.
"Spoilsport," the sound of thudding metal can be heard as a five man team made up of Terminator Armor immediately stride out of the airlock each one coloured blue and gold bearing the symbols of the Eleventh Legion, each one equipped with a power gauntlet at their right hand and a chaingun at their left. They peer into the dark for a few seconds screening before signaling the all clear.
More terminators come out each bearing different colors and heraldries. Five can be seen bearing the symbols of Ultramar, another five can be seen with the yellow of the Imperial Fists, the same number can be seen as that of the Dark Angels and the same digit is that of the Raven Guard. They are specifically chosen to defend and die for their gene fathers in this campaign. Two Custodes also got out with Three of the Sisters of Silence. Only then does the Primarchs Guilliman, Dorn, Wrynn, El Johnson, Corax, and the Matriarch Luna come out each with their own weapons. They are followed by the Empress of Mankind herself in her navy blue bodysuit, the technologies embedded on it making her glow amid the darkness. With her walking almost as silent as a cat is Lelith who looks warily around the passage.
"This place is tainted heavily by the Warp, watch out for all sides for the Neverborn has total control here," the Drukharii warns in her melodious voice, her keen eyes glowing in the gloom.
"You don't need to tell us witch! We know the dangers of the Warp!" sniffs Corax before a shush sound from the Empress makes him silent.
"Cut the chatter! We first head to the bridge. If there are any survivors, that is where they would make their last stand," she intones. "Grandsons, terminators front and center. Lead the way,"
In silent agreement, the Terminators form small circle of cordon around their gene fathers, their lights turning on as they march along the empty hallway. It is an eerie feeling, their giant metallic thuds echoing into the empty space at each step. If it is any other regular human doing the trekking right now, they would have already lost their nerve. The presence of the Warp is so heavy that even the Terminators can feel it pressing on all sides. With the Empress around however, the pressing feeling is lessened and with three Pariahs with them, the growing sludge at the walls seem to even recoil.
"Bloody sorcery," grumbles Guilliman shining one of his lights to the walls seeing a body of a Space Wolf Space Marine absorbed to it, the armor rent and broken, the body almost unrecognizable with how it seems to become part of the wall. Other scenes can be seen around the more they walk in with humans being fleshed to the walls of the ship. Of course seeing that it is a ship made for crusading Space Marines, the walkways are the size of a small hall where a dreadnought can even walk with enough space of comfort. That only lesssens everyone's mood for even the walls is full of slime which drops on their helmets, or in the case of the fairer sex in their company, their hair.
"This thing gets everywhere," grumbles Lelith unhappily shaking her hair off to get rid of the goo which suspiciously looks like human drool off of her long hair.
"You don't say," Luna adds unhappily flicking bits of human remains out of her own head. Some rotten fingers have lodged itself at the junction of her long ears causing for the bad mood of the half-Eldar.
The rest of the trek goes in silence as the group marches on the empty hallway before they first meet their first sign of trouble.
Roaring angrily, mutated humans which have remained silent on the floors with no stimulus to aggravate them come awake at the presence of the Imperials. The Terminators are quick to respond. Moving swiftly those with weapons level their guns at the rushing daemons who are thrice as fast as a regular human, before unleashing their payload. The entire ship echoes with the sound of heavy bolter rounds coming alive. The daemons to their credit are quick dodging majority of the firepower from the Terminators sliding and crawling through the barrage of fire, latching unto the walls and the bulkhead as they move like spiders. The Terminators however are experienced, the best their Chapters can give and they easily adjust the cover of their weaponry in a sweeping pattern. The daemons might be agile but they traded it for durability. Within minutes, the thirty or so mutated are smoking pieces on the ground. The small group continues to move until they first meet their major roadblock.
"Bulkhead is sealed," says Dorn as they reach a closed door where a control panel is flickering on and off. His hands are deftly tinkering over it, grabbing wires and plugging them back together. "This thing's ancient and would need some time to override these doors,"
"That firefight would have been heard throughout the entire ship, whatever monstrosities that are hidden here would be coming for us now,"
"Then we defend this position until the doors open, how long will it take brother?"
"Ten minutes, or less," answers Vulcan to Guilliman readying his twin bolters at his arms.
"Stop chatting here they come!" says Anduin just in time from a broken vent at top to drop five mutated humans with four limbs each. They do not get to live long as lightning emerges from Helaena's fingers frying them immediately.
More howls come upfront from where they just come from and the entire group wastes no time opening fire peppering the entire hallway with bolter fire. Dozens of the rushing Mutated fell but many still remain, weaving and dodging, the large space of the hallway giving them the necessary room to weave through the hail of fire from the Imperials. Within seconds they bridge the distance. Immediately two of the Dark Angels Terminators push aside their brethrens before raising both their arms. Instead of the usual heavy bolters there they have been replaced with giant flamers for close combat fire. Liquid Promethium blaze on like a dragon's roar scattering the Mutated Abominations from their charge. At least a dozen are turned to cinders within seconds though, their charge bringing them to their doom. Those that manage to escape the bolters and the fire immediately are upon the Imperials.
"For the Emperor! For the Imperium!" Guilliman roars out leading the charge with his brothers behind him.
It is an awesome sight and one that belong to legends seeing Primarchs in action altogether again. Upfront of course is the Ultramarine Primarch, wielding the Sword of the Emperor, the weapon blazing with divine retribution, the holy weapon making the Daemons twist and curl away from the flame wielding blue behemoth. Supporting him are his brothers, Rogal Dorn bashing left and right with his Centurion fists anyone stupid enough to get past the wall of flames, Lion El Johnson roaring his righteous fury like the Crusaders of the Old World as he wields his personal weapon, the chainsword, the Wolf Blade, the weapon roaring its own displeasure as it bites through flesh and bone and finally Anduin fighting back to back with Corax, the dual blades Ashbringer coming to life alongside the Raven's Talons, the serrated wicked looking Claws glowing dimly green in the darkness.
"Another wave! Here they come!" warns Dorn as a second roaring horde of Mutated once more appears through the gloom of the hallway through the barrage of bolter fire of the Terminators.
"Onii-chan! Watch me!" whoops Luna as without warning the Half-Eldar jumps past the fighting group of Primarchs, using the shoulders of one of the Terminators as launch pads, barreling through the bolter fire and flames to get into grips with the Mutated rushing them. Her arrival is heralded in a bisection of limbs flying in all directions as her sword sings in the air. Within seconds, Lelith is beside her, the Drukharii dancing through her way of the Neverborn leaving blood and entrails in her wake.
"Emperor frak it! Support Luna! Brothers! Charge!" roars Guilliman as he pushes forward leading his siblings forward supported by Custodes and the Sisters of Silence. The secondary horde of daemons see their attack and meets them head on, the two forces meeting with a crunch.
Normally no one is dumb enough to meet a charge with four Primarchs in the lead. The daemons however are far from having common sense, their fury and madness leading them to the waiting jaws of the Primarch's blades and weapons. The Custodes do not sell themselves short, as they weave their Guardian Spears expertly at the flanks preventing them sons of the Emperor from being blind-sided. With them are the Pariahs of the Sisters of Silence, using their Greatswords to bash and cut through the Neverborn with ease. Their uncanny natures make them essentially useful as the Daemons tend to flinch at their very presence giving the Custodes and them the opportunity to inflict killing blows.
Then it happens, a purple blur appears and without warning a sword lands on the head of one of the Imperial Fists' Terminators, the sword cutting through the ceramite bisecting it horizontally. The Imperial Fists to their credit do not flinch with the sudden death of their comrade as they instead level their weapons at the purple blur throwing hundreds of bolter fire at its cover. Like an insect however it climbs up the pillar it is hiding from and jumps straight into the midst of the yellow armoured Terminators dissecting one in half with his blade before jumping again like an animal and removing the head of another Imperial Fist. One of the remaining two yellow armoured marines drop their flamer and charges, the power gauntlet it is wearing brimming with power, as he charges though he is met head on by a flash grenade blinding him for a second. The purple blur appears in front of him that split second,blasting his head point blank with a corrupted bolt pistol shooting his brains out.
The other Terminators are immediately on guard and they might have started firing if not for Lelith suddenly jumping in front of them with a shit eating grin on her face, her barely clad form standing between them and the foe which is a traitor Astartes clad in purple armor whose effigies is that of screaming humans whose faces are contorted in a raphsody of pleasure and pain.
"Lucius, the Eternal. I've been waiting for this," smirks Lelith before turning to the Imperials who have not let down their guard. Dorn especially looks especially outraged at the massacring of his sons.
"He is mine! Empress, you know our deal," Lelith says turning to the neutral face of Helaena who nods in affirmation at her.
"Try not to die Lelith, I'll miss your warmth,"
"No promises," smirks the Drukharii just in time for the console of the door blocking them to ping opening the blast doors that stand in their way.
"Everyone, let's go," barks the Empress leading her sons and the remainder of their guard to the next part of the ship heading to the bridge leaving Lucius the Eternal and Lelith standing facing each other on the now empty corridor.
"Let's dance shall we," says Lelith confidently drawing her blade just as the servant of Slaanesh also draws his.
"Finally, a worthy challenge,"
…
The Empress' Group
The retinue of Helaena now pushes onward to the curving bend of the Hrfankel's hallway. It seems that another set of daemons walk the empty bend part. Instead of the Mutated Humans that they have been dealing with before, they are now dealing with those infected by Nurgle's rot as a couple of dozen bloated former humans bull rush their position. For being obese like beings, they certainly move fast spraying acidic vomit once they come into a certain range. One of the Sisters of Silence have been dissolved into sludge at one such attack. The Custodes now lead the way their Guardian Spears barking in unison as the Primarchs add their own rate of fire as they move before reaching a giant elevator door which Dorn easily pries open.
"Frak!" Elevator's shot!" shouts out Dorn looking down into the gloom below.
"Move!" he is pushed aside by Anduin who drops one of his flares down watching it tumble below as the Terminators form a cordon of fire while he looks down the gloom.
"Twenty feet of a freefall. We need to jump," he says looking back at the rest of the Imperials.
"Jump? What about mother?" protests Guilliman only to be shouldered aside by Helaena.
"I am not some fragile thing that needs to be protected all the time Roubutte," she grabs Luna's waist before striding over to the very edge of the open elevator shaft.
"See you boys down, jump once Luna and I am clear," Helaena orders making everyone nod. Still holding Luna by the waist, Helaena jumps with her daughter, the gravity pulling her down fast.
"Wingardium Leviosa," she whispers as she nears the end of the free fall making her descent to suddenly slow before their boots reach the metal ground.
"Move aside Luna," orders Helaena pushing Luna aside as she blasts open the locked elevator door pulverizing it immediately. Luna dashes in first blade ready and waiting, her Eldar catlike eyes scanning left and right before returning the all signal to her mother. Helaena immediately walks out of the shaft giving the thumbs up to his sons and their retinue above.
First to arrive crashing down in loud clanging are the two Custodes who grumbles unhappily at the indignity of almost falling down on their faces. They immediately stand aside for the two Sisters of Silence who sprawls upon impact but says nothing before rushing out. The next ones are the remaining Terminator bodyguards who much to their indignance crashed down like a set of bricks at each jump. With their sizes and their weight, they rather end up like sacks of potatoes upon each other. It doesn't help that Luna does not hide her giggling as they entangle themselves from one another before setting up a perimeter to give space to the next pile of unhappy Imperials. The Primarchs are the last to jump, landing in the same grace as that of their sons.
"It's good to at least land on something soft," exclaims Guilliman from where he is seated having landed on his arse.
"Gerroff your frakkin ass off my frakkin face!" snarls a very angry Lion El Johnson who has landed back first and his bearded face having served as cushion for Guilliman's armoured rump.
The Ultramarine Primarch jumps as if burned as he stares at his brother whose expression looks comical with half his face being dislocated with it having to shoulder the entire weight of a Primarch plus his entire regalia of armor. Guilliman raises a hand to help him stand but the Lion simply bats it away in anger much to the sniggering of their other brothers.
"You're kinda missing a couple of teeth brother," comments Corax to Johnson whose answer is only to snarl at the Raven Lord. Unfortunately their fun is cut short when Helaena pushes through them before raising a hand at the bloodied and contorted face of her son.
"Episkey!" the sound of something akin to a slap can be heard and the Lion groans as he holds his damaged face, the broken bones now fully repaired.
"No time to mess around, move boys," commands Helaena to the grumbling Lion and the apologizing Guilliman who compose themselves before following the rest of the retinue who are now crowding against Dorn who is giving orders to the Terminators to carry large drums full of liquid fuel. The largely armoured Space Marines are hefting such things back and forth on what seems to be a mag-lev of some kind at the far end of the hallway.
"What's going on?" asks the Lion catching up to Dorn with his brothers and the Empress in tow.
"Maglev's out of fuel. We are refueling it as of right now. If I am right, this will take us directly to the bridge immediately," rumbles the Imperial Fist Primarch as another Terminator wearing a Raven Guard insignia jogs past him to the maglev's side where the others are busy pouring out the fuel from their own giant drums.
"CONTACT! DAEMONS!" roars one of the Ultramarines just in time for the bloated daemons of Nurgle to fall from the upper elevator shaft. Any other human might have been crushed by the fall, their bones broken, but the darmons shake it off like nothing before lumbering past the broken elevator doors.
The first daemon is crushed to a pulp by a full palisade of bolter fire from one of the Custodes but the second one with half its face missing manage to reigurtitate one of its acidic spouts that landed directly to one of the drums of fuel being hauled by two Ultramarine Terminators. The acidic substance melts through the drum igniting the extremely flammable liquid Prometheum that the Terminators are carrying. With a resounding boom, the two Ultramarines are immediately vaporized alongside their attacker and throwing the rest of the Terminators near off their feet.
"We are clear! Everyone INSIDE THE MAG-LEV!" roars Dorn inside the already humming machine who are shaking its rust, wear and tear like an angry buffalo shaking off wet reeds from a swamp.
The other Primarchs need no invitation as they rush in. Last to the Mag-Lev of course is Guilliman bringing with him the last of the Terminators with Daemons hot on his heels.
"Cover fire!" roars Anduin firing off dozens of rounds from his multi-barrelled bolter thrashing the fast rampaging daemons rushing after their blue-clad brother. The rest are more than happy to add their own bullets to the slugfest decimating or crippling the fat daemons as they bull charge the slowly moving mag-lev. The rate of fire being thrown at them is enough to decimate a small army but the daemons are compensating numbers for quality and they soak up the bolter fires like a sponge.
"Move!" barks Helaena and everyone does not question the Empress as she pushes past them her eyes glowing emerald along with her hands. With a mighty roar that can be heard from one end of the ship to the other, she unleashes a blast of pure psychic power that acts like a giant fly swatter flattening the entirety of the daemons pouring in from above to paste on the ground. In an instant hundreds of daemons charging the mag-lev are gone.
"Heads up! Stragglers up front," calls out Corax firing at a few dozen of Mutated humans wandering aimlessly on the mag-lev''s path. They come moaning and groaning attracted to the stimuli of the sudden on mag-lev but they all burst into pieces as precise bolter fire cut them down. Within minutes the mag-lev is slowing down finally unto a pair of broken blast doors which looked like they have been pushed apart.
"This path leads to the bridge mother," says Dorn as they exit the maglev.
"I know, I can sense your brother," a smirk appears at her face though. "And if I am right, he is not alone,"
…..
Back at the Hallway with Lelith and Lucius
Daemons form a circle as the two combatants circle one another, Lucius holding a massive sword on his right hand while Lelith has her two daggers and her long hair in a ponytail braided with spikes with one especially wicked looking dagger at the very end glowing in the dim lighting. There are no words, no monologues as the two challenges each other like boxers. Then as if some unseen ring sounds off, the two charges at the same time.
Lucius has the advantage of brawn and weight due to his armor and Astartes physiology corrupted by Slaanesh while Lelith has nimbleness and agility on her side, courtesy of her Eldar nature and her experience at the fighting pits of Commoragh. The daemons roar expecting a clash of the titans as the two shortens each other's distance. What they did not expect is for Lelith to twirl her head using her hair like a whip strike straight at the exposed chest of Lucius the Eternal who do not expect the attack. The wicked looking blade score a large scratch on the ceramite even as Lelith dances away from the sudden outbalanced Astartes who crashes into the bulkhead. Like a cat she is on all fours as she prowls facing the now standing up giant looking outraged as he checks the damage to his good self.
With a battle cry the two charges once more. Lelith comes pouncing, daggers aimed down at his throat. Lucius parries with his sword forcing the Dark Eldar back and creating a space between them. He swings right with his sword but the Eldar sidesteps, he proceeds the attack however with a follow up punch from his unarmed left fist. Anyone else might have been hit by the sudden shift of attacks from sword to fist. Lelith however is not just anyone.
Her right dagger springs forward following course with Lucius' fist slicing a deep gouge using the Astartes' momentum against him. As Lucius finds himself once more flinching, lightning attacks of her daggers follow up the first making a dozen slices on his open face forcing Lucius to back away to avoid having his head sheared off. The attacks however continues at his chest, the wicked looking slashes cutting apart pieces of his armor as it litters the ground. He might have his head cut off if not for him backing away just in time. Instead a part of his chin got sheared off.
Annoyed at the continuing advantage of the Drukharii, he slams both hands down stopping her arms from her lightning attacks. She attempted another dagger attack from the side using her left but he grabs the arm by the wrist pulling her close using his hand holding the sword to grab the strip of cloth that is her only cover of her top to hurl her to the nearby wall. He expects her to crash into it. What he doesn't expect is for her to run across it in a circular manner like a cat before using her momentum to leap overhead of Lucius, her hair wrapping around his neck as she somersaults, using her entire acceleration and body weight to lift Lucius cleanly off the ground and straight at a wall headfirst.
The Traitor Astartes to his credit despite his neck oozing wounds of black ichor and dazed with the sudden headlong impact with the metal wall gets up to turn just in time as the wicked looking dagger of Lelith's hair come spearing down at him. Unnatural reflexes gives him the ability to catch it mid-air. With a victorious growl he lifts off the surprised Drukharii off her feet by using her hair to slam her backfirst in the bulkhead where he just crashed. Stunned, he grabbed her by the neck lifting her in the air before a strike with his weapon cut through her breastbone sending blood everywhere. She doesn't scream though to her credit. Unsatisfied, Lucius twirls using the strength of the spin to slam her head first into the opposite side of the bulkhead before swiping again at her chest. If not for her backing despite being dazed, she might have been cut in half from right shoulder to hip. As it is, Lelith just scored a deep gouge on her body that cuts through her modesty leaving her top bare as blood spurts from the large two gashes on her pale form.
"Is that all?" laughs Lucius as Lelith goes on all fours hissing.
"Not even close," smirks the Drukharii though blood pools on her mouth. She cuts off the ponytail of her hair to reveal that the large bunch separated through four thick braids now pooling below her head. Each braid has a wicked looking dagger at each end.
As Lucius charges, she dodges by jumping nimbly to the side, her weight easily making her move before one of the braids spring forward like a viper hitting straight at the right wrist of the Traitor Astartes right between the armor joints of the hand making him growl in agony as his sword arm is wounded. The braid springs back as Lelith nimbly dances around Lucius, braids now striking forward all over his armoured back nearly busting the power pack he wears. He just manages to shake himself off from the daggers when Lelith twists using the thickest of the braids to strike him at the junction of his stomach making him bend. As if vipers, the braids strike forward in rapid unison again at the damaged chest armor of Lucius forcing him back step by step at each new wound before the braids strike together again in one massive spear cutting through ceramite and flesh making him squeal and hiss as he glares hatefully at the smirking bloodied Drukharii.
Advancing forward, he stomps heavily despite his many wounds. Two braids immediately planted themselves on his chest making him roar as he grabs them trying to pull the serrated daggers away. The last two pierce both his hamstrings dopping him on his knees. He tries to make an awkward lunge with his sword arm but the flashing daggers of Lelith cuts through the edge of the ceramite joint between the elbows making Lucius howl as he finds himself without warning of a sword arm, his black blood pooling all over the floor of the hallway.
"Honestly, I expected more," comments Lelith looking at the now standing up Lucius with his elbow cut off, blood pooling at the cut.
"And you are right to do so Drukharii whore. You will die today!" and writhing with the blessings of his own god, his bone juts out in a sordid imitation of a blade growing from the stump which has once been a limb.
Lelith simply says nothing before two of her braids rush forward, the knives at the end point gleaming with their sharpness. Lucius moves fast though, too fast as if the sudden blessing of his patron have empowered him to new heights. The bone sword cuts through the first braid easily before twisting in a way that might have been impossible for a human to slice through the second one also. The sound of two knives clattering on the ground makes Lelith frown at the sudden change on her opponent. Before she can make any movement however, Lucius bull rushes her surprising the Drukharii as her enemy is right in her face in the span of a second. One of her remaining two braids darts forward automatically seeking to protect its wearer only to be cut off by the bone sword. A backhand slap sends Lelith's head ringing as she attempts to conform herself once more only to find gauntleted hands to suddenly grab her by the neck pressing her to the bulkhead. A sharp pain at her gut makes her gurgle as she realizes that the bonesword have been pushed to the hilt inside her ribs, the sharp end piercing her heart on the inside.
"Now I take your soul for the glory of the Prince of Pleasure," laughs Lucius the Eternal even as the Drukharii's blood polls around her raised bare feet. The bone sword removes itself before plunging again to her stomach making the Dark Eldar grunt.
"You…..are wrong," coughs out Lelith her face grinning despite her slowly impending death. "My soul belongs…to my lover, and you are a fool…..for talking too much,"
"What?!"
Using her hands, Lelith pulls herseslf closer to the Traitor Astartes before her last braid wraps around a snake before his head pulling it aside for an instant exposing his neck. That is all Lelith needs as she stabs her last dagger from one end of the neck to the other and with a strength that belies her lithe form, she severs the head of Lucius the Eternal. It takes a second or two for the headless body to realize its head is missing before it crumples down to the ground bringing with it the dying Eldar with it.
"I win….monster, good fight," coughs out Lelith one last time as the daemons that have been watching the fight rushes towards her before tearing her bloody body apart.
…..
The Bridge of Hrfankal
Leman has always been the most uncouth and the most expressive of all of Helaena's sons (not counting Angron of course in his usual shouting demands for more aspirin). Many of his brothers view such nature of his as weakness. However in Helaenae's opinion this only makes him more in tune with his humanity. Him and his legion perhaps have the closest relationship with their human auxilia and crews during the days of the Great Crusade. The Space Wolves' penchant for food and drink alongside with brawls and other such activities that other Astartes' of the other legions would view as beneath them makes them extremely hard not to be found likeable. Such attitude of theirs come from this being right now barreling towards her crying anime tears as he hugs her with the force of a small tractor. If not for her enhanced body and her improved bones, she would have snapped in half from such a gesture.
"MOTTTTHEEEERRRRR! YOU'RE HERE!" the Primarch of the Space Wolves half bawled half-laughed jumping out and down as he hugs the Empress still crying anime tears.
"Yes, yes I am here Leman," Helaena pats one of his scarred pauldrons in reply.
"Come on Leman, put our mother down before you damage her even further," Jaghatai Khan intones slapping Leman Russ' back of the head bringing him down from his high as he coughs before gingerly putting the Empress down.
"Ehm-ahem, sorry about that mother. I just never thought I'd see you again," Leman Russ beams happily.
"And I you, Leman. Imagine me waking up to a galaxy where all but one of my sons are alive and awake," replies Helaena before turning away from the jolly-looking Primarch to the more serious of the two who has the Mongolian look of ancient Earth from before.
"And don't think I forget about you Jaghatai. I am glad you are here," says Helaena. "I thought I would be rescuing one of my boys, not two,"
"And I am happy to see you mother. It's good that I am here else Leman here would have his ass handed to him by some unnatural being years ago," the Primarch of the White Scars says with a smile on his face.
"Hey! I am not irresponsible!" Russ growls to the raising of the eyebrows of every being in the bridge.
"Fine! Maybe I am a bit reckless but I am not simple minded!" another raising of eyebrows from everyone finally makes the Primarch grumble unhappily much to the amusement of the onlookers.
Laughing a bit, Helaena stares proudly at her two sons who looks as if they have seen better days with their armor rent and covered with more than one unknown fluid from their years here. Still they are Primarchs and they hold themselves as such as they intermingle with their other siblings who are now also entering with their retinue.
One of the Custodes however makes a beeline for her. "Forgive me for interrupting my Empress. We have sealed the bulkhead doors as you have ordered but the daemons are cutting through it. We don't have long before they manage to get past it,"
"Then we cut through them!" Leman Russ shoulders past Guilliman who is in the middle of a speech about how honoured he is to see his brother again. "With our mother here, we take the fight to them and back to where the airlock of your ship mother,"
"No need to fight Leman, I have teleportation beam beacons with us," Helaena points at Corax who is hefting the large backpack showing a glowing beacon. "We cannot beam in due to the influx of organic matter from the Warp now infecting your ship, that is why we have to fight to get to you. It would be a simple thing however to be beamed out especially with a beacon active pinpointing each of us,"
"Oh, that's great mother!" booms Leman. "What did I tell you before Jaghatai? Mother always has a solution for everything," he laughs punching his brother in the shoulder. "Speaking of which mother, let me activate the self-destruct button of the Hrfankal before we go. No point in letting these Chaos Spawn take over my ship. I don't want any of these traitor bastards setting their ugly paws on it,"
"Very well, do what you must Leman. The rest of you strip mine the bridge. Bring anything that isn't nailed down and that could be useful. Help those of his honor guard who are too badly wounded to get up their asses for beacon beaming transport,"
With a chorus of "yes mother" from her sons and the "yes Empress" from the others. Helaena remains standing there as she stares back at the hallway of the bulkhead doors they just come from before looking back at her sons. Dorn is supervising Corax from removing some data slates stuck on a console which the latter is failing to do. Finally in frustration, the Raven Lord rips off the entire console before walking off leaving Dorn to raise his hands to the air in defeat.
"Mother," Luna's melodic voice makes Helaena turn to the Matriarch who approaches her, her face supporting a troubled expression
"What is it Luna?"
"Aunt Lelith, what about her? If we activate the beacon, she would be left behind with the ship about to explode. Should we not go back for her?" she asks.
Helaena only sighs pulling Luna to her kissing the top of her brow. "Your aunt Lelith is gone Luna. I have felt her soul pass into their death god's embrace. I personally envy her able to reach what she dreams of doing for so long,"
"I-I see, I better go see Brother Guilliman now mother," she smiles wistfully even as Helaena strokes her long hair.
"You do that child," she pushes her at the direction of the Avenging Son who seems ready to explode a gasket as Leman calls him a princess at his face.
It took the entire group ten minutes to strip the bridge of every essential, especially the navigator logs that Leman personally brings with him. "A map in the Warp mother? Isn't that great?". Finally they are all standing with each other as Corax activates the beacon. In an instant, the feeling of being squeezed into a tube followed by a flash of light and the next second they are in the cargo hold of the Orion with clones and crewmen immediately taking the items that the group brought with them while Helaena and her family goes into the bridge just in time to see the Orion making distance away from the Hrfankal who is slowly going smaller by the second.
"A thousand years I have crusaded inside that ship. She has served me well," sighs Leman accepting the trigger from Jaghatai Khan who wordlessly give it to him.
"For the Imperium! For humanity!" and with the press of a button the Hrfankal explodes like a miniature sun in the Warp turning to nothing the large ship to debris.
The search for Leman Russ ends as the Orion engages its Warp Engines to head back into realspace.
….
Omake: Fulgrim's Fine Dining Restaurant
The planet Io, is well-known for one thing and one thing only. The Restaurant of Fulgrim, the Primarch. A Five Star Establishment well-known to the Imperium. It serves only the aristocrats, the rich and the powerful, and the famous ones. However it seems that after a talk from Helaena, Fulgrim finds himself convinced to let his brothers in his restaurant to try out their cooking skills for family bonding along with some of their sons.
Of course the perfectionist Primarch regrets it immediately. It seems other than him, none of his brothers inherited their mother's specialty to cooking and creativity.
Ferrus Manus tried baking a cake with his children. Unfortunately it looks more like dried mortar than it originally intended.
Lorgar instead of cooking are trying to convert his staff to his religion while his sons are singing hymns at the back.
Horus is trying to carve out a candy into an Aquila shape. However he got the mixture wrong and the Aquila is melting and his sons are busy fighting over the recipe about who got the mixture wrong.
Mortarion is mixing food that it is a grueling mess and letting his sons try it out. Already two are down due to being food poisoned with their souls flying out of their bodies moaning.
Vulkan is…..using Prometheum as his fire rendering the food charcoal black while his sons cheer him on.
Konrad Curze is bisecting live chickens, while his sons try out the fryer with little to no success which then needs more chickens to be murdered.
Guilliman is daintily making a Disney castle cake having mediocre success as his Ultramarines are down to the rule on the cook book. Its so sickeningly sweet to look at however.
Perturarbo with his sons are jumping up and down on the grapes to make more wine. They seem to enjoy it a little too much.
Corvus Corax tried chickens also. However one of his sons forgot to close the pens resulting to the Primarch to chase down the avian poultry flying all over with his Raven Guard.
Russ has no care for cooking and is instead drinking Fulgrim's Restaurant out of house and home.
Magnus makes his food go alive and dancing on the table, unsurprising.
Dorn is making a fortress out of bread? While his sons are making siege tanks out of potatoes.
Alpharius and Omegon are making stick men from cream. Uncannily they look identical.
Sanguinis and his children have raided the red wine stocks of Fulgrim's specially hidden room. Apparently they love the blood red color.
Lion El Johnson and his children seemed successful as they turn a giant dead boar over a spit while pouring wild honey over it.
Jaghatai Khan have kidnapped the pasta and are making pasta formed motorbikes to have a race down the table while his White Scars place bets.
Fulgrim makes a mental note never to invite his brothers to his restaurant again.
…..
Author's Note:
Hi guys so its another Chapter dOne. Sorry for the long update. To be hoenst I have lost interest in the story that's why it has been so long in the making. Lack of inspiration. Anyway, I still promised you till Chapter Twenty and Ive just got the perfect ending, an ending worthy of Warhammer 40k with all its Grimdark Themes. Three more chapters to go and with that we can finish. We have 10,000 words here. I hope its enough for the long wait.
As usual please Review for your reviews are the song to this writer's heart and inspiration to go on.