Chapter Thirteen
…
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
…..
30th Millenium the Start of the Great Crusade
She can hear it, the symphony of sounds as thousands of Martian Machinery below works tirelessly for the plans of the Emperor to come to fruition. It disgusts her, it disgusts her so much that all of these half mad toaster worshipping abominations with a penchant of flesh mutilation would be people that they need for the reconquest of the galaxy and the finding of his sons. They are not so different from some of the Warlords she herself has flattened during the Warring Eras of Terra and her hand itches from casting a planet wide Bombarda on the nearest dockyard just to see how squishy the servants of the Machine god are.
"You are scowling again, is there something wrong?" the baritone voice of John makes Morgana sigh as she forces to calm herself and epicly fails as she sees a man, no a former man changed to be a slave of these diseased machine worshipping idiots, a servitor lumbering silently below through the crystal glass of her ship's bridge. The sight alone makes her want to snarl and apparate down below and cast killing curses left, right and yonder.
"Do we have to ally ourselves with such abominations of mankind?" asks Morgana pointing down at the industrial planet of Mars below. "The sight of them alone makes me sick and we are allowing them a place in your Imperium!"
"Our Imperium my heart, our Imperium," corrects John chidingly ignoring her scowls. "They are a necessary evil I am afraid Morgana. As much as I agree with your assessment and your opinions, like the last time you voiced them before we came here. Let me repeat myself and tell you that we need them for the implementation of the Great Crusade. Without them it would be impossible to build the armaments and the ships that we need, heck even the weapons and armor that the Astartes would need have to be relied on their skills. The forges of Terra and Luna alone would be unable to bear the weight of the Great Crusade that is about to start, it needs the industrial might of Mars or we will be set back five decades at least,"
"Stilll, they are a cancer in the society you are trying to create John. This cancer of theirs would spread and spread until it affects everything and everyone, mark my words. This, guarding of knowledge of theirs would be an excuse to hoard the knowledge for themselves and prevent the common man from reaching, for making ingenuity a part of life. One way or another I can see the Imperium being infected by their practices,"
"Then it is a gamble I have to take Morgana, for our sons lost out there, it is one that I need to gamble on,"
Morgana only grits her teeth trying and failing to keep parts of her power from bleeding out at the mention of her lost sons. With a snarl she unleashes a bit of it and the servitor down below explodes like a red piñata in bits and pieces. Morgana just walks away trying and holding back her tears of frustration and anger.
She needs to bring her sons back wherever they are, even if that means allying herself to toaster worshipping morons.
…..
The Vertigo Corridor, Entrance to Imperium Nihilus
When Helen chose Paris over her husband Menelaus during the Ancient Times, a thousand ships and thirty thousand Greeks march off to save her and bring her back to Sparta. Now another Thousand Ships are launched in the Forty First Millenium to save the Fortress Planet of Helen which serves as the gate to the darker part of the galaxy cut off from the Emperor's Light.
A thousand ships, the vanguard of the Indomitus Crusade blazes forth like stars in the sky to the maw of the Corridor that leads to Imperium Nihilus. At its helm small and the strongest of all the ships is the Orion, painted gleaming white with the symbol of the Imperial Aquila on it, it spearheads the charge of the Crusade into the darker part of the Corridor.
Giant Emperor Class Battleships and Dicatator class moves like whales of the ocean surrounded by hordes of Lunar Class battleships and destroyers. Massive Battle barges float alongside them each bearing the heraldry of a Chapter. Powerful Cruisers stand as escorts over the bigger ships like guardians, their smaller frames and bigger guns gleaming through the light of the Empyrean that they are about to cross. Frigates and Cruisers from Mars stand out, their red color opting them as beacons amid the grey and silver which composes majority of the colors of the fleet around them. Then of course alongside the massive battleships and simple designed warships of the Imperium are the sleeker and more defined shapes of the Venator Class Cruisers with their ten kilometer lengths supported by Hammerhead Frigates. They comprise nearly a third of the armada currently about to enter the Empyrean. Then of course there are the ten lone vessels of the Drukharii, the Cabal under the command of Lelith Hesperax assigned to tag along with the fleet. There are a lot of unhappy opinions about the presence of the Dark Eldar and more than one have voiced their protest. Unfortunately for them, the Imperium is not a democracy and the Empress' command supercedes all, alas for them, the command is to let the Drukharii be in this endeavor of theirs.
The entire fleet lines up, gliding away from the massive starports of Planet Vertigo and out of it's range but the longest of guns. They reach the edge of the blight on the Empyrean in no time and the captains all get into position as the Navigators of each ship connect with the powerful mind of the Empress. It is one of Helaena's little experiments. Normally they could jump through the Cicatrix Maledictum the traditional way with ships raising their void shields and traversing the Warp lanes while hoping for the best that you won't get hit by an anomaly on the Warp, or worse get yourself lost in the currently rumbling currents. It would be every ship for itself as their Navigators try to get you at the proper course and destination without being sheesh-ke-babbed for any daemon or warp entity that calls the Cicatrix Maledictum its home.
Helaena's presence however changes all that. Like the Emperor, she is an anathema to the denizens of the Warp though not as profound. She is a force of nature that is inevitable, the Mistress of Death, a powerful asset of Order whose rules not even Chaos can corrupt. One way or another after all, Death Claims all. That is what makes her an anathema to the presence of the Dark gods of Chaos. However Death does not care where death comes from Order or Chaos and thus limits her influence at the same time.
Still it is enough as the massive tear in the Empyrean in front of them opens. Helaena's little experiment is simple. While the light of the Astronomican serves as a lighthouse for the Navigators to pinpoint themselves to, Helaena's at such a close range would be like a beacon, a bright lamp for those near her that they can follow without issue into the dark. It does not have the brightness that the Astronomican has, but it is enough for those near her.
The Orion enters the jump point, the void shields of the small ship cutting off the influence of the Warp into realspace. It's powerful engines lights up like a Christmas tree and with a flash it is gone as it enters the Warp. Like a taut bowstring, emerald lights like ropes emerge from the maw hits the bridges of the different ships of the large flotilla connecting to their different navigators. The ships are forced to go forward into the maw before one by one, their warp engines come to life driving them into the Immaterium after the Orion. In a matter of seconds, the entire massive vanguard of the Indomitus Crusade are off to the other side of the Corridor of Vertigo. Those left behind can only watch in no small wonder as the rift on the Empyrean created by the entrance of the Empress slowly disappears.
For the sons of the Empress watching through one of the great orbital platforms of the planet, it is almost a surreal sight seeing the power of their mother in action. They have all attended the last leg of her departure. All three of them knows after all that it would be months or at least a year before they see each other again. With silent nods at each other, they go on their separate ways, each to the assignment that their mother has left behind for them to do for the greater good of the Imperium.
…
Planet Helen, Fortress World of the Opposite End of the Corridor of Vertigo
Planet Helen is a fortress world of the Imperium. Its large cities are now standing like great bastions with giant walls and foundations with beams and bars bristling with anti-air cannons and guns designed to take down the largest of warships that dare come into orbit of the planet. It's population has been dedicated to a martial pursuit knowing that they are the gateway to one of the few corridors that lead to Imperium Sanctus. Worse, they are found in the wrong end of the galaxy and Imperium Nihilus is no place to stay if you are a human in this troubled times. Thus the reason why it is so heavily invested in its defenses and martial superiority.
When the clones arrive, reinforcements from Imperium Sanctus by the grace of the Empress, the strength of the planet has been tripled especially with the fact that majority of the clones present to reinforce them are in the Arc Trooper variety, specialists in the field of fighting comparable to the Karskins. Each of them also are skilled with the usage of the jetpacks in ways that would make a normal human vomit if they try the ungodly maneuvers that Arc Troopers seem to do as easy as breathing.
However Planet Helen is not like any regular fortress world found in the Imperium, no. The planet still contains great swathes of the old world with lush forests, wide meadows, open mountains and a beautiful sea. Once before the emergence of the Cicactrix Maledictum, it serves as a garden world, and a famous one at that. It has been a hotspot for pit stops for many in the Imperium like generals. Governors, rogue traders, and many of the other nobility that makes up the higher echelons of the Imperium of Man.
Even now as it changes under the rule of House Troy, the ruling House and governing body of the Planet, it still retains memories of who it is before the emergence of the dark times that cut the Imperium in two.
Right now however it is besieged. A space hulk has been spit from one of the random rifts of the Cicatrix Maledictum and from the damned giant mess comes dozens upon dozens of Roks gathered under the Warboss Helluva Jumpa, who wastes ni time driving his Roks to the surprised planet who barely has time to get their planetary guns and orbital stations online before the Roks are upon them.
Red beams, missiles and torpedoes has met the charge of the Roks head on shattering many of them. The defenses of the Planet is proving themselves worthy that barely twelve Roks manage to cut through the defenses before hurling themselves on the jungles near the capital of the planet, Bastion.
That is not the end however. Orks are resilient just like the mushroomy fungus that they are. Drawn to the fighting, the survivors of the crashed giant Roks are many. It does not take long for Mekboys to "recycle" the great starships that they once rode to the stars into three giant gargants brimming with guns and firepower. How they made it, not even the Mekboys know. They just however painted it red since red means more "shoota powwa". Like lumbering giants they throw themselves against the great walls and gates of Bastion.
Like tanks the Gargants lead the way blasting round upon round on the ramparts of the walls of Bastion shaking the city at every explosion. Civilians scream and ran as the realization that the war has come into the Fortresses' walls. PDF forces are marshaled post haste and distress signals and reports are immediately set out to every position on the planet as the lumbering green horde rushes the main gate of the city like a living battering ram. In minutes the city's defenses come online as tech priests activate controlled auto cannons and las cannons. Gun turrets also come alive spewing out thousands of rounds from their vantage points over the walls even through the barrage of the gargants. The Orks of course only found this even more fun as they counter wildly with their shootas and own cannons. It is just in time for gun crews to finally reach their emplacements. Heavy bolters unloaded heavy rounds turning Orks to red mist forcing the attacking force to scatter and take cover while countering. Las Cannon emplacements take care of Ork Buggies and smaller machines turning them over to scrap. PDF soldiers soon man the walls adding their own firepower to the full palisade of gunfire being thrown down by the Imperials below. The very air is rent with bullets, lasers, missiles and cannons that it is barely understood which is which. One side is fighting ferociously for their home while the other fights for their only purpose in life. Thousands of Orks die in the attempt yet for every five dead Ork, one Imperial atop the wall also loses his life. The Orks might be shooting wildly and have every disadvantage due to their position and to the mighty defenses of the surprised capital. They make up for it though with sheer glee and savagery. With the amount of firepower countering the ramparts and with three gargants as support soaking up heavy Imperial fire. It is only probable that the Imperials will also take heavy losses.
From the high ramparts of the spires, the personalized open barracks of the Clones are bustling with activity. Arc Troopers are helped into their suits and armor even as their backpacks are fueled to the brim. Engineers and aides finish reloading ammunition to ammo belts and hotshot blasters are blessed by Tech Priests before given to their owners. With a nod, Commander Wolf of the Wolf Brigade leads his Arc Troopers to the edge of the spire before jumping out to a freefall. Within moments their backpacks are on boosting the Arc Troopers to open air much to the cheering of the Imperials seeing the hundred or so soldiers gleaming like fireflies as they navigate the spires and out of the edges of the defensive wall.
Avoiding enemy fire, Arc Troopers bank and slow down as they descend, their hotshot blasters immediately dousing the Orcs with heavy fire. The hotshot blasters are different from the average lasgun or bolter. It is a specialized weapon made from the planet Kamino designed specifically for Arc Troopers. Instead of a continuous stream of power honed to an edge like the lasgun, it instead compress the energy to a ball before being released. The result is a blast of energy ball at every shot of the trigger with the force of a stun grenade and the lethality of a lasgun.
Orcs explode like piñata at the sudden assault of the Arc Troopers, each trooper creating a swathe through the tide of green on which they could land. Counter enemy fire hits them but the plastoid armor they wear have been reinforced with adamantium not that different from a Space Marine only without the superhuman augments. The result are a lot of shots bouncing off the armor like ping pong balls. The Orks nearest the Arc Troopers have no chance as they die screaming reduced to atoms by blaster fire as the Arc Troopers land. Some of the Clones have even brought metal shields to support the attack, shielding those who are hefting heavy weapons from the more lethal shots from some of the Shoota NObz of the Orks.
Everywhere the Arc Troopers are demonstrating why they are considered as one of the best of the best despite being human in all ways.
One Arc Trooper wearing the equivalent of energy gauntlets use the charged power to slam the ground throwing three Orks off their feet. He casually executes them with a pistol at their heads as they try to recover their senses. One of the vanguards carrying a shield tanks the slug fire from three gathered Shoota Boyz before slamming his shield towards them like a giant bat crushing bones and flesh upon impact.
Yet despite their bravery and feats it is obvious that sooner or later, the Arc Troopers would be overrun. They are outnumbered, outflanked and outgunned outside the wall and it is not soon that Commander Wolf whistles the order to fall back to the entrance as the enemy gargants slowly approach the great gate of Bastion. Above on the ramparts defenses burn and smoke destroyed. The closer the enemy gargants are, the more accurate its heavy guns become on the defenses at the wall. The nearest gargant especially takes it precious pound of steel and flesh as it tears through the automatic heavy turrets and gun emplacements at the top of the main gate. Las cannons fire back but they only serve as even more targets for the giant machine.
"All guns focus on the nearest big bastard and bring that thing down! Bring it down!" shouts Commander Wolf blasting with his hotshot blaster at the gargant.
The Heavy Weapons units immediately spring into action unloading their rocket launchers before priming the plasma missiles and loading them. Meanwhile at the walls nearly every gun still firing are concentrating on the heavy gargant nearly making it unrecognizable as its entire front got pelted by a full palisade of guns forcing it even five steps back and nearly slamming to its fellow gargant. Finally the Arc Troopers are ready and with a slap on their heads the Heavy Weapon Units fire out the strongest weapon in their arsenals. Immediately the entire first gargant light up like a lamp as the powerful plasma missiles erupt on its chasis. As the light lights up, it can be seen that the entire gargants side have disappeared, chewed up by the debilitating attributes of plasma weaponry. With a pained creaking groan, the giant hunk of a metal tips over its side and slowly crash to the ground with a pained squeal.
Cheers erupt all over the defenders, for a few seconds or so at their small victory. Whatever cheer however is suddenly silenced as another massive explosion rocks the entire gate immediately sending it crashing down open as the mighty chains finally heave their last. The Imperials might have taken down the first gargant but two more remain. The Orks with a massive cheer immediately charges forward to the breach of the open wide gate as the defenders inside panicked as the mass of green tide charge towards the breach. A cadre of PDF officers form a defensive line with one line kneeling and the other standing.
"FIRE!" the Commisar at their midst orders with a wall of red meeting the charging green mass. Orks tumble and fell but it is not enough. The PDF might as well be firing on a wall for all the trouble its worth against the green tide of flesh. The Orks do not slow down much less stop the charge even as they trample their dead and wounded. The Orks slam against the PDF line with the strength of a juggernaut snapping the line and sending men fleeing into ten directions. The Comissar got an axe on her chest for her trouble in forcing the line to remain.
People scream and flee as those at the walls find themselves too far away from position to be of help in stopping the charging horde. Some Arc Troopers and Imperials, brave fools that they are try jumping from the walls and do a crash landing over the heads of some Ork. Newsflash the regular Ork Boy is bigger with more girth and size than a regular human. They have better chances of throwing ragdolls over stone statues for all the good it did. Their colors are swallowed up by the tide of green.
"WAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!" the Orks roar out their time honored war cry hacking and slashing the nearest of civvies even through the best effort of the defenders that have not yet run or take cover.
Their war cry however is cut short as out of nowhere a large drop pod slams into the nearest Orks flattening them to gory paste and out walks out golden figures. There are no war cries, no cheers for battle. Just cold calculation as said spears immediately open fire while a defensive line is formed that absorb the impact of the horde before throwing it back with superhuman strength. Like a wall, the green tide slams uselessly before its vanguard are turned to red mist. The Custodes steps forward through the mass of charging Orks letting the wretches bash themselves against the shields before throwing them off again with their shields. Around more and more drop pods fall disgorging Space Marines and Primaris Marines hemming the mass of green flesh in all sides at the gates with bolter, plasma and flamer fire, their cries echoing like the cult of the damned as they die in bloody chunky ways.
The sudden appearance of reinforcements is enough for the defenders to cheer and rally behind the superhumans as Clones, PDF forces and Arc Troopers join the harassment of the mass of green. They are like sharks attacking a shoal this way and that making sure that the Orks remain on the backfoot in a mass unable to make a full charge. Outside the walls, orbital bombardment from Lunar Class Cruisers above the planet reduce the majority of the Orks to slag, leaving nothing but burning glassed ground on their wake. The ones nearest at the gates however still remained alongside with the two Gargants that are still thundering dakka fire to the defenders on the walls.
"I AM ORK BOSS HELLUVA JUMPA! YOU WILL ALL DIE BEFUR ME WAAAAGGGHHHHH!" he roars out through the last gargant, his Ork Nobz firing big guns with extra Dakka through the slits tearing to ribbons a squad of Primaris Marins carrying Heavy Bolters.
"We need to deal with those Gargants or else we will all die here!" yells out Commanader Wolf to the Custodes while blasting the face of an Ork off. Up ahead the lead Gargant slams into the tall walls demolishing a tower and killing all defenders inside it. Behind a Leman Russ is pulverized by a set of missiles from where the Ork Boss is leading.
"Don't worry, the Emperor and the Empress provides Clone Commander. To the faithful, she sends her titans to war!" the Custodes declares and just in time too as a very loud blare rents the air like the honking of the ancient giant ships of Terra that once sail its vibrant seas.
Valkyries appear in the midst carrying with it what it seems to be a Titan, but not one in the design of the ancient titans of old. Instead this one is made of sleeker design mimicking the form of a human coloured burnished grey and silver. At its chest rotating in the power core is a blazing circle of red. With powerful snaps, the cords of steel are snapped and the human titan is dropped outside the city walls just facing the first Gargant. The Orks immediately start laying down fire on the titan through the holes on the chasis of the Gargant though they have as much damage as ants would throw rice grains to a human.
Seeing a challenge the Gargant immediately rumbles forward making leaping motions with its unsteady legs firing continuously with its double giant auto cannons that sit where the arms should have been. The new Imperial Titan simply takes the damage like a champ not even bucking at the explosions that meet its outer defenses. From its right arm wrist emerge a giant power sword which immediately blazes blue as it hums with ungodly energy. The Gargant continues its charge aiming to ram the Titan using its weight. The Titan simply raises the power sword above its head and with one swipe, cut the Ork version of a Titan into two from the waist down with a mighty explosion, the power sword cutting through the Ork Scrap like leather.
"OI! YOU DON'T DESTROY MY SCRAP HUMMIE!" roars Helluva Jumpa as he moves his own Gargant to charge the Imperial Titan. The entire front of the Imperial Titan is a mass of explosions are Ork Nobz try to add their fire power to the already lethal barrage flying from the shoulder autocannons of the Gargant. Unlike the other Gargant, the one machined by Helluva Jumpa has two chainswords for a weapon at each arm. Both are currently roaring.
The two Titans rush towards each other, one power sword blazing while the other with two chainswords roaring. Amid the explosions over their chasis, both moves at the same time. The Gargant tries a swipe that would have cut off the human Titan's head and pilot seat. Normally it might have worked. The gargant is big, big and clunky. While this might have worked against anything smaller than it, it is facing a Jaeger, a Titan born from the imaginations and design of the Empress of Mankind who has seen the Golden Age of Humanity. The human machine twists its form down dodging the clumsy attack before it slashes on the chest of the Gargant rending a deep wound over its machinery at the chest gleaming as it is cauterized by the power sword.
Seeing the wounded state of the Gargant, the Jaeger Titan bull rushes forward ducking down over a clumsy swipe of the Gargant connecting a powerful punch with its left hand on its already damaged chest caving in metal, machinery and wires. As it is stunned, the right hand of the Jaeger with the blade slams on the Gargant's left knee, the giant power sword cutting through the meter thick welded bolts.
"NO MORE HUMIE!" the Ork warboss roars as it drives the chainsword of its right hand at the flat of the power sword cutting it clearly in half leaving the jaeger with only the hilt and the flat end of the half of the blade. A swipe of the Gargant chainsword connects with the shoulders of the Jaeger sending out sparks as it scratches the metal before a left swipe hits the face where the two Princeps would be,forcing the Jaeger to take a step back. The Gargant belching with black smoke and steam crosses its two chainswords for arms and slams it crosswise that would have cut off the Jaegers head off its neck if not for giant metal hands grabbing the chainswords in the pivots where the elbows would be.
If Titans can glare, this one just does as it headbutts the Gargant straight right to Helluva Jumpa's command throne immediately cutting off all power from it as it sustains heavy damage. The Jaeger now free from the chainswords of the stunned Gargant retaliated with an uppercut at its robotic squashed head sending it back three steps.
"WAAAAGGGGH!" the angry Ork's roar can be heard inside as he presses the Gargant to make a swipe at the Jaegers head who ducks, its left hand grabbing the broken sharp end of its former power sword embedded in the hamstring of the gargant before using it as a knife to stab right at the neck of the squealing giant machine who then pauses as its internal servos got heavily damaged and the mangled Gargant struggles to move. With a straight punch, the fight ends as the Jaeger holds the power core of the ugly machine. With a pained groan it fell on its knees before slowly collapsing on its back with a thunderous crash.
"LEMME GO! LEMME GO! LEMME GO!" roars the Ork Warboss inside struggling from the wires trapping it from the interior. A faint shimmer can be seen and with a flash of blue light, the appearance of the Empress of Mankind appears with her personal Custodes guard and with the Ardent Light, the Sororitas sworn to be under her direct command. Immediately they begin to secure the area around the fallen Gargant. The giant Ork Warboss machine might be destroyed but there are still a lot of remaining Orks swarming outside the machine that is present even though the Imperials are starting to mop up. The fall of the Gargant is already making the remaining Orks scatter as the realization set in that their big bad warboss has been bested and has fallen.
"WHUT IZ DIZ? GIRLY HUMIE! YOU SHALL FALL BY HELLUVA JUMPA'S-" he isn't anymore allowed to speak as with a swipe of her hand, the massive Ork's head are separated cleanly from its body thumping like a ragdoll along with the broken machinery of the fallen Gargant.
Helaena stares at the bloodied form of the Ork with awe. She has never expected that she would find a treasure that would direct her to her next part of her path here. She had originally rallied the Indomitus Crusade to aid the Planet of Helen out of its strategic importance and due to the presence of Orks. She had never in all of her own wildest dreams expected to find a clue here that would lead her again to one of her lost sons.
Firmly prying the dead Ork's body to the side, Helaena gingerly takes a single piece of a Raven Feather attached to one of its many indentions and rivets.
"Corax," she breathes out feeling the power on the single feather. She has no idea how in the world does her son gets entangled with this Ork, but he did and now this, a clue to his whereabouts in the darkness of Imperium Nihilus.
"You work in the darkness to serve the light my son. Now you must not walk in darkness no more," she whispers as she makes the feather spin at her hand. "Heed my coming, Expecto Patronum," she whispers and a light as bright as the sun emerges from the destroyed chasis of the fallen Gargant. Everyone outside watches in awe as they are nearly blinded by the emergence of a light construct with the design of a raven beautifully cawing in the noonday light circling once or twice around the Gargant before blazing upwards only to disappear in the skies above leaving a faint silver trail on it.
Everyone participating on the Indomitus Crusade knows immediately that they now have their own path to follow among the stars.
…..
Ultramar System
"…but I do hereby protest Lord Regent! Lord Regent no! NOOOO!" Guilliman resists the urge to scratch his head as the man's screeching protests echoes along the entirety of the Hall of Recollections as he is hauled away from the presence of Guilliman heading outside to where many of his ilk has also been removed.
Guilliman has been wondering why his mother looks apologetic to him when she assigned to him the mission of bringing back the Five Hundred Worlds together. Now he knows. While many are in awe of his presence, a rather large numbers of aristocrats, mostly planetary governors administrative and nobles have been less than pleased when he announced the reforming of the Five Hundred Worlds under the rule of Ultramar the greater. Even with a royal command under his belt and with the aid of the Administratum, everyone has been making a nuisance of themselves and Guilliman finds his progress slowed down to a crawl as he is railroaded by roadblocks of treateies, sworn promises, documents both forged and legitimate as these people try to hold on to their power. It grates even the patience of Guilliman but he bears it. He makes a promise after all to reunite the Five Hundred Worlds and make them a beacon of hope and example for the people of the Imperium to his mother. The last thing that he needs in setting an example is whacking people left and right with his fists out of annoyance. He is not like some of his barbarian brothers who would shout and be obnoxious to show their annoyance. No, he is Roubutte Guilliman, favored son of the Empress of Mankind.
Thus he bears it as another representative drones on and on why his planet must maintain his independence. He thanks his lucky stars though that even with his rather boorish task that suits very well with his talents, he is not alone. He almost shudders at the imagination of the thought of waking up at the galaxy very well alone and finding out that he's the only member of his family left kicking with the others either dead, lost or traitor to the Imperium. That would be a great nightmare, the stress alone and the loneliness would be too much. He is thankful that in this turbulent times, he has his beloved mother, and his two brothers out there to help him lessen the load.
"I wonder how they are right now?" wonders Guilliman totally forgetting for a few minutes the droning man who has been trying to get his attention three times already.
"Lord Primarch are you listening? Lord Primarch?"
….
Gandar Sector, Villis System
The entire sector blazes with firepower as the Tau ships dueled on the void against the massive Imperial Crusading Fleet heavily reinforced by some of the smaller heavy hitting ships provided by the Lunar dockyards commandeered by the Empress' personal workers. They are the ones making the Orion Class and the Daedalus Class type of ships.
Primarch Lion El' Johnson, stands at the prow of his flagship, the Gloriana Class Battleship, the Eternal Crusader as the Imperial ships he commands trade lance fire after lance fire with the Tau battleships against the void. Between the enabling battleships, the smaller dangerous cruisers snake in like venomous snakes sinking their fangs to any Tau ship they can reach which would then explode in a mini fireball once seen in the Observation Desk. Down below the Desert Planet of Tigris Tertius remains innocently watching as the massive fleets above bite each other like rabid dogs.
The Shield Crusade as Lion El Johnson calls it has been formed under his command as a replacement to his original legion that he commands long ago. Of course it is not even a shadow of the glory of the former Astartes numbers that he has in his palms during the Great Crusade, but it is nevertheless grand in its own scale, though not as numerous or powerful as the Indomitus Crusade. Yet it is his and Lion El' Johnson is proud of it. Already many are gathering on his banner as the first and second foundings of the First Legion rallies to his banner, answering the call of their gene father.
Now he watches as his Shield Crusaders bombard the Tau Fleet that loiters the system. He is right where he belongs doing what he does best, protecting the Imperium from its countless enemies.
…..
Vorus System, Garis Outpost
The energy Gauntlets, Courage and Fear crackles with power as Dorne slams his left hand to the head of a Genestealer breaking it open like an open grapefruit. With his right hand, he squashes the head of another. The two cannons at his shoulder immediately spouts out bolter fire reducing to shredded atoms the next five or so of the Tyranids to pulpy mists of red.
"Disgusting," he grunts as he kicks the numbered dead off the walls. Around him he can see the Imperial Fists, his own personal chapter like madmen as they hold off the enemy away from gaining the upper walls of the half-finished fortress of Rubicon at the Garis Outpost. Already there are each a small hill of the dead Tyranids on each Astartes down below, courtesy of the Imperial Fists and other First and Second Foundings that belie on Dorne's gene line.
As ordered by the Empress, his mother. Dorne has set out to the galaxy to create the Hub Fortresses that his mother wants built all over Imperium Sanctus to give it an impression of being protected as the Indomitus Crusade rampages all over Iperium Nihilus. He has been successful so far. He is glad of the millions of workers, clones that has been allotted to him by Kamino in order form his mother. Dorne rather likes the clones. Unlike the regular human, they complain little and question little obeying orders in a frightening degree. They are also very skilled warriors, almost in the same skill as the famed Ultramar Auxilia of his brother Guilliman. Properly equipped and properly trained, they are the perfect soldiers without the augments. With their help Dorne had been able to build three of the Hub Fortresses in a very short amount of time at the previous system in a few months. Of course the automation introduced by his mother helps, making things easier instead of the usual norm of the Imperium today. Dorne still has trouble until now to accept that all the progress they made during the Great Crusade has gone down the drain and replaced by well this feverish stupidity, ignorance and mysticism that seems to infect every populace of the Imperium.
Now here he is being assailed by the forces of a small fleet of Tyranid ships, remants of what once is a large swarm. This is the first time Dorne has in facing the damned bugs and damned if he does not find them ugly and repulsive, reminding him almost of the Swarm of Alien bugs he once burns out at Kurnos the Second during the Great Crusade. Their fleet has arrived on system raiding smaller settlements and other outposts before they lost their luck and ended up facing the Sons of Dorne and Dorne himself here at Garis Outpost which is slowly being transformed into a Hub Fortress. What happens then is a slugging match between Imperials and the Tyranid remnant. The former being too stubborn to lose especially in the presence of a Primarch, and the latter is just because they're hungry and wants to get their hungry teeth to the juicy nutrients provided and living in the half built fortess.
The more he fights, the more ideas does Dorne come up inside his head about additions that he might apply to the Hub Fortresses in order for it to be varied enough in dealing with the numerous different enemies of the Imperium. Already against Tyranids he has one unbiased opinion that must be implemented especially against the hungry bugs.
"Bullets, lots of bullets," he says out loud his thoughts even as he signals for the Basilisks to fire more Earthshaker rounds at the charging masses down below.
…..
Omake: The Feast Great Crusade
Twelve Legions that is twelve thousand Astartes members plus one at each legion with their Primarchs also attending. Suffice it to say that the Companion wakes up one morning and finds the idea of inviting her sons and her grandchildren to a family feast, where they might all eat together. The Emperor really REALLY disapproves of this idea. Yet a little bit of petting from his Companion and he finds himself putty in her hands. Now he's cursing himself as he sits ruefully atop the Golden Throne watching his Companion flit from one long table to another sipping his ale in moderation. He and she had made a bet that their would be no chaos if they gather all twelve and their legions altogether for this feast. He said it would be chaos, she said otherwise.
Now John ruefully watches as he can feel the gongs of being the sore loser as he observes the Space Marines, yes, even the ones whose legions who are the most willful and misbehaved trying to be on their best manners in the presence of their grandmother. Even the loud and raucous Space Wolves had even arrived with their beards trimmed and their nails cleaned. Right now they are trying to be all polite and gentlemanly saying if they "Could pass the meat please," or "A little more ale would be appreiciated", and of course "Good evening mother, it is a pleasure to finally meet you at last,".
It is so sweet that it is sickening and John can feel the smugness rolling off his Companion in waves. Victory is slowly slipping from his fingers at each moment making him mentally groan. Last time he has been caught flat footed, and her winning the bet, she has demanded that the Ultramarines place a member of their brotherhood atop a Land Raider with a Sax playing it as they charge to battle ahead.
Guilliman being the mama's boy he is has approved it even at the laughter of the other legions. The point is, it is so embarrassing especially since his seal is the one used to approve it. When news arrive on Terra about the Thirteenth Legion, the Emperor has to pretend as if he has no idea of events even with his royal seal making it obvious he approves.
He groans again even as Malcador pats his shoulders magnanimously obviously aware that against his Companion, the Emperor would always be on the backfoot.
…..
Author's Notes:
So that's that. Another chapter done with 7100 words. It took me a long while how to start Corvus' Corax's Arc but this finally I believe would make a good start. This also gives me the time to introduce the Jaegers to the Imperium as they are part of Helaena's contribution as mentioned before during the Early Chapters.
Now I need your help. Ive completely forgotten what in the world is Corax doing at the moment. For Warhammer I need your help so that I can navigate the canon storyline. Oh and we are meeting the last Lost Primarch next Chapter also. Im sure you guys will approve of him. yes it's a him. Im not risking making people angry by adding another female Matriarch. So please help me on the Corax part.
Please Review for your reviews are my inspiration to continue this story until Chapter Twenty.