The Old Captain

[Saint_Bepis]

Chapter 1: Captain Nemo

​

Situated in the northern portion of the Ultima Segmentum, in what was formally known as the Imperium Nihilus before the closure of the Cicatrix Maladictum sits the Watch Fortress of Mortguard. It is held under the command of Watch Master Agathon and serves as a strike force against the Tau invasions, Necron Lords, Genestealer Cults, and the occasional Ork WAAGH. While the battles that the Deathwatch fight are against some of the most dangerous foes the Imperium face; There is one soul on that station who stands apart from all his brothers on the station and yet he commands immense respect from all those who live on it. His name is Nemo for he gave up his name in when he joined. He stands alone in his room with his armor still on save his helm revealing a wizened face that would be more proper on an old mortal than a member of the Emperor's Angels. His eyes scanned over a pile of reports, committing the details to memory. One might be forgiven for thinking that such an old man was not up to the task, but Nemo finished his reading with ease and promptly began to draft new orders for the soldiers under his command. This was just a day like any other except a ship had just landed and a letter was being delivered.

There was a knock on the door to Watch Captain Nemo's room. The old marine simply looked at his door and with a small grunt stood up from his chair. He grabbed his helmet from off the table and placed it atop his head, sealing his face within the ceramite plates. After a moment of darkness the HUD lit up and began loading the software. Nemo grabbed a large wooden cane from beside his desk and slowly made his way over to the door. As he approached, the heavy metal slid up and opened. Standing at the doorway was a mortal serf who stood nervously at attention only breaking posture after Nemo returned the salute. The white mask muffled his voice, but the young man was clear enough to understand even with Nemo's slowly degrading hearing.

"Watch Commander Agathon had summoned you my Lord Captain. He says its urgent." The mortal's voice was quiet and slightly shaky, but still loud enough to be heard.

"I am not your Lord, mortal. If it is urgent, then I may be required to return to combat. Grab my pistol from its plinth and bring it to me." With the proclamation given, the two walked into the room on the far side, just past the bed was a small almost ceremonial stand upon which sat a plasma pistol it was a simple black gun, with only the muzzle and cooling vents holding a silvery sheen. The top of the weapon glowed a dazzling blue almost like looking into a pool of water. The weapon was freshly loaded as the glowing gases held in the ammo reservoir pulsed energetically like a small sun. In the hands of the serf, it was almost the size of a rifle. He brought it over to Captain Nemo who was busy sheathing an elegant looking sword on his hip. He grabbed the pistol from the mortal and its magnetically locked onto his leg right next to the sword. When Nemo was ready he spoke to the serf: "Thank you mortal, now take me to the Watch Commander."

The walk to the Commander was far longer than it would normally take for your average marine. The slow gait of the Watch Captain combined with him wearing his wargear made for a sight that caused even the most unflappable members of the Deathguard to begin whispering. Some even stopped him to ask what was happening only to receive a dismissal. Watch Commander Agathon stood in front of a large circular map of the Ultima Segmentum. On the map several spots were marked with various icons and in different colors. Surrounding the map were various cogitators each one manned by a member of the Martian Priesthood wearing their distinct red robes and some even being followed by a servo skull or a wielding a mechadendrite. The Commander looked up from his map as the Captain entered. By his side was a rare sight that commanded the presence of almost all in the room. A soldier stood there clad in resplendent Auramite plate from head to toe with a plume of red fur flowing from the top of his pointed helmet. Upon seeing the arriving Captain the Custodian stepped forward and before the Watch Commander could say anything, addressed Nemo.

"Watch Captain Nemo. Registration Number 3." The golden one's voice boomed over the din of those in the command center stopping everyone in their actions and silencing all noise. The question was spoken almost as if it was a demand. Yet Nemo responded almost sounding even older if that were possible. "I am he."

"By Order of the Lord Sigillite, your penance has been completed. You are to be reinstated with a chapter of the Adeptus Astartes at the earliest possible convenience. You are free to keep any weapons you wish to take with you and are ordered to leave Watch Fortress Mortguard immediately upon having gathered the items that you wish to take with you." The proclamation stunned all within the room. Not only had the Lord sigillate been dead for ten thousand years, but an order had been given to reinstate old man Nemo. The thought was so inthinkable even the Watch Commander was stunned into silence a look of shock appeared on his face. The golden giant turned and left his mission obviously completed.

It wasn't until he had completely walked out of sight that the room seemed to spring back into action. Agathon turned towards Nemo with a stunned look on his face.

"Never would I have thought I would see the day that you would be recalled, I had thought that you would outlive me as well. Nemo, you may take with you your armor I'll requisition it from whatever chapter you end up rejoining. A ship will take you to wherever you wish."

"I require usage of the Astropathic Choir first, Watch Commander. I need to ascertain the location of the Vigil. I am aware that they operate primarily within and around the Tempestus Segemntum, however Kill Team Ultimus encountered them on the border of Ultima Segementum 25 years ago fighting a war against a splinter fleet of Hive Fleet Behemoth that was en route to a genestealer cult that we were in the process of purging. Kill Team Leader Diocletian, included mentioned that they expected to remain in the area for the next 50 years to "ensure the destruction of the Tyranids and their spawn." The old man's declaration only caused confusion to appear in the eyes of the Watch Commander.

"You intend to join the Red Scorpions? And here I thought that we would finally gain a hint as to the origin of your gene-seed. Speaking of which, you requested many times to have your Progenoid gland harvested and held in case of collection by Terra. Will you be taking them with you?"

"The Red Scorpions are of my blood, but they have strayed partially. I must go to correct my brothers. I will be taking the gene-seed cultures with me for usage by the Le-Chapter. I believe by my last count I had 527 cultures harvested with 19 sent to Mars for purity monitoring. Have you required the usage of any of them?"

"We have only used eight by my count. You will be given the other 500 upon your leaving. I will send word to Choirmaster Morel to prepare the choir. Will you require any help in collecting your belongings?"

"The only possessions I have are the weapons on my waist although if you could send a serf to collect and distribute the responses I have penned to the kill teams under my command, I would be grateful. They should be on my desk."

"Of course. Best be off then captain. I will have your departure prepared for when you return." He turned and summoned a mortal over to him with a gesture and as Nemo walked out of the command center, began giving orders. "Mortal retrieve the parchments on the desk from former Captain Nemo's quarters and alert a cleaning team to preserve the room as is. From this moment onwards I will declare the room off limits except for maintenance crews. Scribe, make certain that my orders are transmitted throughout the Fortress. I intend to remove the room from active use until a new Captain can be promoted. Watch Commanders Sevrion, Maxen, and Thrax will assume command of Nemo's kill teams to replace the teams they lost in combat."

"It will be done my Lord." The Serf and Scribe said in unison and moved off to perform their duties.

"Sergeant Marael, report to my quarters immediately and bring with you the package I spoke of." Agathon spoke into a vox unit built into his armor and a voice answered. "I will be there shortly Watch Commander, however the project has yet to be completed." The voice seemed apologetic but much emotion was lost due to vox interference. "Then work faster Sergeant, your deadline has been reduced to an hour." The vox shut off with a harsh static and crackling sound and a Tech-Priest moved immediately to Agathon's side.

"My Lord," He spoke in a pleading voice. "Please allow me to appease the machine spirit of your sacred armor's vox. It has been crying out for days now and I fear anymore waiting on this issue will cause more damage than can be undone."

"Very well Magom. This will be more annoying than detrimental. Can you perform the required rites here or will I need to remove my armor?" Agathon seemed resigned as he questioned the red robed priest

"Canon dictates that you need not remove your armor, but you have put off your required maintenance for far too long and Magos Vaella has ordered me to remind you that she will not allow you to continue operations if you continue to delay the required canticles and blessings to the machine spirits. She has threatened to force your armor to walk you down to the temple should you continue to prove uncooperative." There was far too much amusement in the voice of the priest for the Commander's liking even if he could admit that the visual of his armor ferrying him along was funny.

"Very well then, let us depart swiftly. Scribe. Inform Captain Seraphus that he is to continue monitoring the operations against the Tau until I return and if anything, major is to come about then he is to contact me immediately." The Captain began walking away from his post intentionally keeping a pace far faster than a mortal's walking speed. Space Marine and Tech-Priest walked quickly with the mortal running after the Captain who merely calmly walked to a nearby lift and descended into the depths of the fortress. A smile was visible to all as he watched Magom desperately try to keep up with the much larger man.

 

[Anarchy423]

Hey, we finally found Nemo!!! After all these years of search the Custodes finally found him!!

 

[Saint_Bepis]

Chapter 2: The Astropathic Choir
​

Deep within the bowels of the watch fortress a large, forgotten, and empty room had been constructed during founding of the fortress itself and subsequently had been erased from all records. The one who had built the sanctuary had all long since been disposed of and its existence remained shrouded in absolute secrecy. It was in this room where a golden giant had found himself after having left the presence of the Command Center. He stood immobile in the center of the room almost as if he were guarding it. He did not wait long. Within a half an hour, a tear in reality opened; golden light wafted forth like particles of dust illuminated on a bright summer's day. A gauntleted hand reached through the tear followed closely by a second. The two pulled apart and the rift became a door; through which a much smaller giant stepped through. The Custodian's posture shifted slightly as the markings of a hydra were visible upon the pauldron. The two looked at each other for a moment before the larger of the two spoke.

"Alpharius." The tone of the Custodian was flat. Almost near monotone with only a hint of edge within. "I should have known you had something to do with this."

"Hello Constantine." Alpharius's voice was far too upbeat and cheery, and the aforementioned Constantine raised his weapon.

"Give me one good reason why I should not cut you down for your crimes,traitor." His tone had not changed, but there was now a small uncertainty in his stance.

"Well, that would be a terrible way to repay the one who pulled you out from that debacle you were involved with alongside Russ. There is also the simple fact that I have not betrayed the Imperium, but nothing I say to you can persuade you so allow me to show you my sincerity." The Primarch of the Alpha Legion removed his helmet to reveal a bald head and eyes that held bags under them the size of the eye itself. Without a word, Alpharius stowed his helm under his arm and held up a hand whereupon two blades shot out of the top of his gauntlet. "Do you recognize these weapons, Valdor?"

"Mercy and Forgiveness. The weapons of Konrad Curze. How did you come by them when they were never recovered from M'Shen's body?" The confusion and suspicion were evident in Valdor's voice was evident.

"How else? I was there on that day. Specifically on orders from the Lord Sigillite shortly before the Siege of Terra started. My mission was to assassinate my brother. I am M'Shen." With that declaration Alpharius pressed a button on his wrist mounted cogitator and a swirling sheen of blue, green and black obscured his frame for a moment. When the energy dissipated a normal sized woman wearing the uniform of the Officio Assassinorum. Valdor looked down at the woman almost in some kind of disbelief and spoke a very confused: How?

"Very simple." Came a female voice from the diminutive form which in a swirl of color soon became Alpharius again. "My armor was specially made at the request of the Lord Sigillite to better take advantage of my gifts for infiltration."

"Assuming what you say is true, then why does the Alpha Legion still attack the Imperium in addition to the enemies of mankind?" The suspicion was evident and Alpharius chose his next words carefully.

"We have been in Schism since before the Hersey even started. The Alpha Legion had two primarchs: Alpharius and Omegon. One a Traitor and one a Loyalist. Alpharius and Omegon each assumed control over portions of the Legion and have been fighting each other in a shadow war ever since." Omegon explained far too calm for the situation he had found himself in.

"Who are you then?" Valdor's question sounded more like a demand.

"I am Omegon. I am the herald of the End, and you have a very large role in playing Valdor. Your part in the Plan is fast approaching, and I need to put you into the position that will bring the greatest assistance to the Imperium." Omegon's words were cryptic nearing nonsense, but one portion stood out among the rest.

"What do you mean you are the herald of the End? And what do you mean by the Plan." Valdor's spear returned to his side slowly as he spoke and his stance relaxed somewhat but a single finger stayed within touching distance of the trigger on the haft.

I'm not referring to the Emperor's Shining Path, but rather a different plan forged by a different man. Its sole purpose is to prevent the destruction of mankind." Omegon was deathly serious. All previous levity had long since disappeared from his voice.

"Who is the person that created this plan?" The suspicion returned but Valdir's Spear remained in place.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Valdor looked into Omegon's eyes as he spoke but requested once more.

"Try me." The demand was met with a small pause, but Omegon held fast in his refusal.

"I really can't say, but if you will allow me to, I will assist you in getting to your position on the board." Omegon's expression did not change at all, but his eyes held a flash a of sorrow and while Valdor saw it all it did was confuse him.

"I still don't trust you, Omegon, but let this serve as the ultimate proof. Tell me of my destination in this plan of yours and I will set out and accomplish it." Constantine relented and his hand slid down the haft of his spear holding it calmly and the tension dissipated from his posture.

The Primarch before him smiled and said. "You will be returning to Russ, but before I can send you to him, I must secure a promise from you that you will not harm my brother."

"Why do you require such a vow?" The request mystified Constantine as Leman Russ, Primarch of the Space Wolves, was unlikely to have done something that would require Valdor to attack him.

"When I plucked you from that battlefield, Russ was rescued as well and taken in by the Aeldari. They needed his assistance and so healed him. Russ offered them one boon as his honor demanded and they demanded his assistance in the rescue of their Xeno Goddess: Isha. Russ is currently traveling with them. Your promise is to ensure the safety of everyone on board, as they will be instrumental to the Plan." Omegon carefully explained and watched the Custodian in front of him closely.

"I promise then, that I will not harm Russ." Valdor ground the words out with some difficulty, but Omegon instead shook his head at the declaration.

"That is not what I asked of you. Swear on something you hold dear that you will not harm my brother." Omegon repeated again this time with a firmness that surprised Constantine.

"I swear upon my vows to the Emperor, that I will not harm your brother." The vow was ground out of Constantine's mouth with much more difficulty almost as if he knew what was to come.

"Thank you, Constantine." A portal ripped itself open as Omegon cut a glowing white feather across the air in front of them. "This is your stop Valdor. I will see you up ahead." Without another word Constantine stepped through the portal and disappeared along with the shining gateway.

With the disappearance of the leader of the Custodians, Omegon pulled a sheet of parchment from a pouch kept on his hip alongside a ballpoint pen. Removing the cap, he made a note on the page and crossed something out before stowing both back where they came from. "Why must this be so hard? Could you not have chosen another more qualified brother? What am I saying, of course not. Your plan would not have survived even half the hiccups I encountered had you chosen anyone else. Back to work I suppose." The primarch pressed some more buttons on his wrist cogitator and spoke into the voice port. "Agent Garbo, report to the prepared location immediately." Omegon did not wait for a reply and ended the connection. He reached into another pouch and withdrew two small containers. He spat a large black mass into one and closed the lid before opening the other and removing a similarly sized brown mass and placing it in his mouth. The two containers returned to their pouch and a helmet was placed back on his head just in time for the doors to open. The marine entering bore the symbol of the Khan on his pauldron and as he knelt before his Lord his true armor was revealed. Dragon scale patterns with a hydra replacing a lighting bolt. "Garbo, you will remain here for 3 hours. After that time has passed you will be collected and reassigned. I will assume your place and your previous identity will be erased. Hydra Dominatus."

"Hydra Dominatus Lord Primarch. I will carry out your Will." With those words, the Marine stood to see a member of the White Scars in front of him. With a salute the two parted ways.

The Astropathic Choir was always unnerving to Former Captain Nemo. Thousands of souls all blinded by the psychic might of the Emperor bound to forever carry the messages of the Imperium until they died. A tireless job, but one that is necessary for the continued survival of the Imperium. Without the Astropaths there would be no way to send messages to even the nearest stars outside Segmentum Solar in a timely manner. The risk of having so many psykers together was mitigated by their sanctioning and the direction of the choirmaster. The large plasteel doors swung open as he approached and the music from inside wafted out from the interior. The wails of damaged astropaths assaulted his ears and yet still melded into the song being composed by Choirmaster Nero.

The aging choirmaster turned his head from the organ in front of him as Nemo entered, but his ministrations of the keys never ceased. Nemo felt a pressure on his forehead as though someone was physically pressing against it. It was not hard to deduce what was happening: the psyker was attempting to intrude on his mind. It was more of a polite caress than an attack, but Nemo refused to let the man in and with a short tightening of his focus the pressure faded into nothing.

"You should know by now, psyker, that you are not welcome in my mind." Nemo's voice was unusually terse and the word psyker was laced with venom.

"My apologies Captain, it was merely a force of habit." The Choirmaster's voice was rife with supplication. "How may I be of service?"

"I am no longer Watch Captain; I have been discharged by order of the Lord Sigilite. The message was apparently delayed and was delivered just now by one of the Emperor's Custodians." The previous edge did not dissipate but had softened somewhat and an unreadable mix of emotions slipped into his voice.

The Choirmaster stopped his playing of the grand organ in front of him and fully turned to stare, shock was evident upon his face. "Such a thing is unprecedented, I presume then that you are here to contact the chapter you wish to join. I will admit that I am quite curious about which Legion you are descended from. The records do indicate that you were among the first black shields inducted into the Deathwatch."

"I require the location of the Fortress Monastery known as the Vigil. I intend to join the Red Scorpions."

"Here I was hoping to finally solve the mystery of your origin. Well, I suppose you might as well keep your secrets." The Choirmaster turned back to his organ and stretched his hands over the keys before striking them gently. A strange and somber march seemed to echo from the organ and the moans of the astropaths intensified. One of which screamed loudly and the temperature began to rapidly drop in the room. Without a word one of Nemo's arms raised itself, plasma pistol in hand and shot already charged. Before any reaction could be made a Daemon burst forth from the body of the astropath as the scream continued through its mouth. A ball of superheated gas slammed into its open mouth vaporizing the top half of its body and ending the warp's encroachment into reality. The former captain returned his pistol to his leg and continued to wait. After what felt like an hour, the choir died down and the choirmaster turned to the marine with sweat dripping down his face.

"My apologies for the wait My Lord. There were numerous obstructions in the Warp, far more than usual. I appear to have misled most of them. It is a shame that the astropath was not neutralized in time to prevent the Daemon from entering this sanctum. I will have to speak with the Engineseers about getting that looked at. You have my thanks for dispatching the Daemon before it could do any further harm."

"I am not your Lord, Choirmaster. Tell me the whereabouts of my brothers." Nemo seemed more upset about being called lord than having a Daemon attacking the Astropathic Choir.

"My Apologies Nemo, The Red Scorpions are currently deployed to the Agri-World of Agrax. It seems as though they have been bogged down in a prolonged conflict with a Genestealer Cult. I took the liberty of informing them of your arrival." Again the Choirmaster apologized for his transgression, but something seemed off about him that the aged Captain could not place.

"Thank you for your work Choirmaster, Serve the Imperium well." Said the Marine as he began to face away from the Astropath.

"I will Captain, may the Emperor guide you to your destiny." The words were cryptic and Nemo swore he saw a flash of golden light within the Choirmaster's eyes as they turned from each other and parted ways.

 

[Saint_Bepis]

Chapter 3: Departure
​

Upon leaving the Astropathic Choir, Nemo opened a private vox channel and contacted the Command Centre. Before he could speak, a voice interrupted Nemo.

"Former Captain Nemo, This is Captain Seraphus, Commander Agathon is currently undergoing maintenance on his armor and has placed me in charge. Inform me now if you require his input on whatever it is you wish to inform me of." Seraphus sounded stressed and there was some shouting coming through in the background of the vox.

"Negative Captain, there was a minor warp incursion in the Astropathic Choir. I dealt with the problem before it could begin. I do recommend that the Choir and the Astropaths be investigated for any lingering corruption. The Choirmaster in particular, I believe I saw his eyes turn gold for a moment. He must be investigated above all the rest. Additionally, the Astropathic throne the corrupted Astropath sat on malfunctioned and did not terminate him before the Daemon came through. My instincts tell me that it was an act of sabotage." Nemo's voice was straight and to the point with no emotion coming through his words as he talked about topics that would see a lesser Marine shaken.

"Thank you for the report, Nemo. A transport ship has been furnished for you, and the pilot will be waiting for your destination in Hanger 3." There was a small pause before he spoke again. "Just out of curiosity Nemo, how would one go about retaking control of a planet whose nobility have professed support for the Tau while the rabble remain loyal to the Imperium?"

"I presume you are referring to the events of Bator III? If so, my advice remains the same. The Xenos must never make planetfall and the nobility must either be brought to heel by fear or eradication. The peasantry will support us should a coup be inevitable and should be trained into a force capable of overthrowing the government. Should the worst come to pass and the Tau make planetfall, then it is best to remove any naval presence from the area and should a campaign prove costly send word to Macragge for reinforcements. Should we receive no support we should consign the planet to Exterminatus." The words were practiced as though they had been rehearsed many times before.

"Thank you for your input, Nemo. Before you leave make sure you meet with Commander Agathon, he wanted to see you before your and his departure." There was genuine relief in the Captain's voice as he spoke as though Nemo had confirmed something for him.

"Does the Watch Commander intend to take to the field himself?" Nemo questioned. His tone contained surprise.

"I believe he does. He is waiting for you in landing bay 18." The response was short and Nemo could hear shouting coming from the other end of the vox.

"May the Emperor watch over you, Captain. I will speak with the Commander." Nemo said as he ended the conversation.

"Thank you, Nemo, may the Emperor guide you through the rest of your service." The shouting grew louder as the interim captain closed the connection.

Nemo arrived at landing bay 18 to find Commander Agathon and a host of 25 deathwatch soldiers awaited him outside the various. The soldiers surrounding the commander saluted the arrival of the former captain and Agathon spoke first.

"I wished to see you off on your journey, Nemo. You have given more to the Imperium than anyone could ever ask for. In light of your service, I commissioned a gift that I wanted to present to you after the situation on Bator III was resolved. Unfortunately, the Emperor has laughed at my plans and I am forced to present you with it early." The commander motioned for a Marine to step forwards and he obeyed holding a wooden box in his hands. "Sergeant Marael, you may present your creation." The aforementioned Marael opened the box, revealing the pelt of an animal that had obviously been turned into a cape.

"As the Sergeant said, I was supposed to have more time to finish the project. As it stands now, the fur of the Noxyagu is still quite stiff and can pierce through your skin. So long as the fur is stroked with the grain, however, it will remain soft and will not harm anyone. It was supposed to have the symbol of the Deathwatch woven on the back in golden silk." A certain wistfulness came into the voice of the son of Sanguinius as he neared the end of his explanation of his work. Nemo reached into the box and grabbed the ends of the pelt and pulled it free. The edges of the garment were covered in a selvage of black dyed leather; undoubtedly coming from the same animal as the pelt. On closer inspection there were small golden Aquilas running along the entire length of the selvage. Experimentally the marine stroked the fur against the grain and was rewarded with the sound of scraping metal. The fur had hardened and sharpened and made a minor scratch in the ceramite plating on his hand. Marael stepped forwards and smoothed the cape pushing the fur in the direction of the grain. "May I attach it Captain?" There was an excitement in the voice of the marine as he asked the question to which Nemo nodded in assent.

Marael grabbed the cape and placed it upon the back of the former captain, a simple braided cord around the neck of the man held the cape in place. Marael stepped back and a happy sound came from underneath the helmet earning a helmeted look from the assembled marines. "My apologies Watch Commander, Captain. It's just that this is the first piece of art that I've displayed and it looks even better than I thought it would."

"Your pride in your work is warranted cousin, but do not allow that pride to consume you, there is always someone better than you. Also, failure is often just as important as success. It keeps you humble and allows you to learn more than simply succeeding would." Nemo spoke with approval and only a minor amount of admonishment.

"Thank you for your wisdom Captain." The Sergeant had a touch of awe in his voice as he accepted the criticism.

"I am not a Captain anymore Marael." Nemo sounded more annoyed than anything else.

"Not for now, but I can see something in your future: The wings of a great bird wait for your wind to lift him from the pit he has fallen into." The previous awe was partially tuned down, but in its place was what could only be described as dread.

"Are you a Psyker, Sergeant?" Nemo asked concern and suspicion seeping into his tone as one hand went reflexively towards his hip.

"No sir, but very rarely I have heard the voice of my father in my dreams and recently I had a dream I believe to be about you. The Marine in my dream wore the cape I made for you and he had a Captain's plume so it seems obvious to me that it was you." Marael's gaze had snapped to the former Captain's hand where it sat just shy of touching the handle of his weapons.

"Thank you for the gift Commander, Sergeant. I have spent more than enough time on this station; please allow me to depart." With those curt words, the crowd assembled for the captain parted ways and saluted as he boarded the transport ship waiting for him. The pilot of the ship was there to greet Nemo as he boarded. He wore standard issue armor with a lightning bolt visible on his pauldron signifying his allegiance to the White Scars Chapter. The marine held out his hand and Nemo shook it.

"Greetings Nemo, I was told that you had a location in mind for reassignment. I was assigned as your pilot. You, your gene-seed, some ammunition for your pistol, and a sharpening kit for your sword have all been loaded and will be transported alongside you. Additionally, I will be responsible for bringing your armor back to the Watch Fortress after you have received your new set. I was informed that you have the location of your destination. Where must I take you?"

"Agrax. It's a small planet not too far from San Leor where a warp storm just recently ended. There was a gene-stealer uprising that is currently being contained by the Red Scorpions and it is suspected that they bear some relation to the gene stealers that rose up on San Leor." There was something off about the pilot now that Nemo had heard him speak for some time. Yet, at the same time he felt familiar. Nemo wracked his mind for a moment, but all he found was a memory of an incoming marine belonging to the White Scars by the name of Zorig

"With that all said please allow me to show you to your quarters." The pilot lead the marine through the halls of the ship until they came to a room marked with the letter N. "This will be your cabin for the voyage. We will depart in roughly 15 minutes; the Tech Priests are loading the last of the Gene-Seed into the hold. If you require anything you can find me on the bridge or a serf."

Nemo unbuckled his sword from his hip and stood it in the corner of the room and sat on the provided cot. It held his weight even in his armor, but something gnawed at him. The parchment delivered to him was penned in Malcador's hand. He had seen it enough times in his life to be certain of that. Yet, for an order from the Lord Sigillite to have been hidden in bureaucracy for that long was unthinkable especially with his near deification after Horus's Civil War. The ship lurched and began to move, but Nemo paid it no mind and continued his thoughts. He stood from his seat on the bed and began to pace back and forth. Malcador supposedly gave an order that was addressed to a Deathwatch member and yet he did not send an Astropathic message, nor was a member of one of the many organizations that were founded by the man dispatched. It was a matter that required investigation; there are too many variables to consider and there is the far more pressing matter of the strange Pilot.

A warning noise blared through the ship shaking Nemo from his thoughts for a moment as he was pulled back to reality. Absently he noted the alarm was to signal the ship's translation into the Warp. Again, Nemo began to consider the facts surrounding the pilot. He was a new transfer to the watch-fortress with a mediocre record prior to his induction into the Deathwatch. His record within his previous stations as a member of the Deathwatch were similarly mediocre and with little ambition to advance his station. Most intriguingly, when he was assigned to a squad, he refused an initial placement under his command and had always taken every opportunity to avoid glory. While avoiding personal glory was something that Nemo could always appreciate, this attitude made little sense coming from a young marine. Most of them only cared for glory these days. There was one more thing that gnawed at him. The sons of the Khan are known for their speed; both in and outside of combat they often spoke fast and even carelessly. This one was too calm, no jitters, the lack of any urgency especially for a trip such as this where speed would be necessary. Nemo stopped pacing and stood still for a moment before refastening his sword at his waist. It would not do to confront the pilot in the Warp, Nemo had waited millennia; he could wait a couple more years and some more evidence would not hurt his case.

 

[Saint_Bepis]

Chapter 4: Confrontation
​

Nemo stood still and listened to the humming of the ship. It had passed 10 hours since takeoff by his count and the ship was comfortably within the void of the warp. Space Travel always made him uneasy and the warp especially so. Remembering all the experiences he had inside the warp caused an involuntary shudder and he put them from his mind. Instead, he put his memory to work and began to walk through the corridors of the ship.

The craft being flown was an older model by the standards of the modern Imperium, yet Nemo knew this ship. Its name was Gloria and she had over 400 years of service in the Imperium. She was first constructed as a Civilian Transport ship ordered by a large mining operation operating out of an asteroid field near the border of Tau Space. It was secured from the Tau during a skirmish by the Imperial Navy and commandeered by the Deathwatch forces operating in the area under his command. It was initially intended to serve as an option for long range deployment of troops however damage to the engines and reactor left it useless until it was finally fixed not 150 years ago. During the time it was being fixed, Nemo oversaw much of the work of the Tech-Priests out of both curiosity and boredom and during that time became very familiar with the layout of the ship.

The ship was divided into 3 basic sections the Command Areas, Living Quarters, and the Maintenance areas. These places were spread around the ship in some confusing fashion that the Mechanicus claimed was according to some kind of dogmatic nonsense. The layout of the zones is extremely ineffective and often leads to crossing multiple of them just to get to one specific location. Just outside the bridge and to the left were the Captains Quarters reserved for the current pilot of the ship. It was never a permanent assignment as this ship was mostly used for training purposes and as such the crew rotated through it. Nemo stopped his musing as he approached the door to the aforementioned quarters. They were sealed tightly, but there was no occupant as Nemo had to pass through the bridge just to get to this area and on his way through spotted the pilot at the helm arguing over the vox with the navigator about some Warp nonsense.

The doors themselves were simple slabs of adamantine on a system of wheels with a magnetic lock in the middle holding them together. This was not dissimilar to the doors on the watch fortress; except the doors there was much more sophistication in their construction and design. Nemo had developed some skill at lockpicking during his youth, and he pulled two pieces of metal from a pouch on his waist. One was thicker than the other and was inserted into the base of the lock and pressure was applied to the turning mechanism through it. The second was slightly curved on the end and went into the top and sides pressing the locking pins into place. This model of lock had pins on multiple sides of the lock but only had 7 total. The real tricky portion was the laser detection system that would prevent the lock from opening if the lasers were interrupted by a pick. The proper key had holes to allow the lasers to pass through but with good timing you could pull your pick before you were detected. With a flourish, the pick was removed and the lock fully turned; the internal lasers fired but there was nothing to hit and the door slid open.

The far end of the room held a banner against the wall of the Khan, but with the lights off the symbol of the white scars on his pauldron was missing. Turning the lights on with a switch by the door showed the picture as normal. Nemo switched the lights back off and carefully crept into the room. On one of the desks were a series of parchments each with different colored ink on top of the page each reading out something different. Nemo glanced at the first page and stopped cold the red and black ink alternating letters revealed the movements of troops assigned to all the various watch fortresses around the Imperium. The former captain moved over to the desk and began to search through the documents.

The blue marked papers detailed the movements of various Imperial Naval ships, Green for the Imperial Guard, Red for the Mechanicus, but most concerningly of all were the yellow pages and purple pages. The Yellow pages detailed the movements and deployments of all Custodians including those who had chosen to retire due to failing skill. Purple detailed the deployments of Chaos Marines both within and outside the Warp. One place on the page specifically caught his eye: Macragge was under threat from a warband headed by the World Eaters. Nemo stepped back from the desk and the lights turned on. In three steps he closed the distance between the desk and the door, his hand wrapping around the hilt of his blade and other hand grabbed the intruder by the jaw, cutting off the cry of surprise of the serf who had entered.

Her fear was obvious to the marine and he slowly removed his hand from the hilt of his sword and brushed up the sleeves of the serf looking for tattoos, brands, or scars in the shape of the icons of the Archenemy. His suspicion did not fade, but he removed the hand covering her mouth and spoke to her.

"I have reason to suspect there is corruption on this ship. I am investigating all the important members of the crew. Do not speak a word of this encounter to anyone or I will have to assume you are a servant of the enemies of the Imperium." Nemo's tone was imperious to a degree that few had ever seen before, and it brooked no argumentation. The woman nodded slowly and stepped aside allowing the marine to pass. Nemo walked out of the door and continued further down the corridor heading to the canteen of the ship. At this point in the journey the canteen was empty save for a few serfs cleaning the tables and two marines who looked in his direction as he entered the room and then went back to talking with each other. Nemo strode up to the counter and a serf walked over to him.

"What may I get for you, my Lord?" The serf was smiling as he spoke to Nemo.

"I am not your Lord serf, do not address me as such. I require bread, supplements and water." Nemo was short with the man, some of his anger bled into his tone.

"My apologies Sir, I will be back shortly." The serf seemed frightened by the marine's rejection of the title, but quickly walked through a pair of doors and into storage. He returned quickly with a loaf of bread, a small bag of what looked metal chunks and a filled canteen of water.

"Thank you, have a nice day." Nemo said to the man as he gathered the offered provisions and returned to his room to contemplate his findings.

Nemo removed his helmet to eat his food and placed it on his desk after he sat down. The door was locked and a wardrobe had been moved in front of the door to block anyone who entered unexpectedly. Bread came into his mouth and he chewed. The parchments on the pilots desk were damming evidence that he was privy to information that he should not know. Morever, the destination for this ship was not Agrax as he requested but somewhere else within the Segmentum. According to the galactic map that had been displayed on the bridge as he returned to his quarters, they were somewhere roughly nearby Nocturne. Although location in the warp is hardly consistent, the machine spirits on this ship had a great track record for their navigation. The real question was whether or not they were so close to Vulkan's homeworld to avoid something in the Warp or not. However, taking into account the wrong location alongside all that information. It is not beyond the realm of possibility that the pilot is a Drukhari or allied with them. Nemo had encountered the Drukhari before and their spy networks and intelligence gathering were second to none. Either loyal or not he is privy to information that none should have and must be confronted. After they exit the Warp, he would take steps to ensure the safety of the Imperium.

The voyage was much faster than it had any right to be. Warp travel was notoriously fickle at the best of times, often taking years to travel even the shortest distances. To take only 3 days was extremely rare, save intervention from the Emperor or the Archenemy. All it did was add suspicion to this Pilot. Nemo left his room only for food and water, but his sword and pistol were still attached at the hip exactly the same as when he entered the ship. The men and women manning the ship moved from his path as he walked straight to the bridge. He glanced at the sector map and under his helm frowned. Nemo's steps took him up to the captain's wheel and behind the pilot of the ship. Said pilot turned to face the marine only to be met with the edge of a blade aimed between his eyes. The bridge went silent at the display with only a brave few daring to raise their weapons.

"Answer plainly, who are you and whom do you serve. I already know that you did not take me to Agrax. I know that you are not who you say you are. If you refuse to identify I will end you." Nemo's words were cold holding nothing even resembling camaraderie. But the Pilot did not even seem perturbed as all he released from his mouth was a sigh. There was a high pitched beep and Nemo felt his armor lock up preventing him from movements.

"I honestly thought I had a little more time than I did. You figured me out far faster than I had planned. 1 whole day before you found enough evidence to suspect me of disloyalty, but you played your part close enough for me to salvage this." The imposter's form rippled and the mask was revealed. Nemo's eyes widened under his helm as it flashed a warning to him, protesting violently as he attempted to force his limbs to move in vain. Standing before his blade was the tired face of the 20th​ Primarch Alpharius. "Sorry Nephew, but I couldn't take any precautions. The disrupter will run out of charge long after I am gone, but I do need to keep this brief. There's a major war just beyond the horizon and you must help the Imperium be prepared for when it comes. You already saw the system we are in when you entered the bridge. Down on the planet below us, there is something that you must retrieve and deliver to Ultramar. I'll be sending you and your cargo below very shortly." The men onboard the ship got over their stupor and began to open fire on the traitor primarch, but all their shots seemed to disappear before they connected with their target. One brave fool charged with chainsword in hand but was casually batted aside as Alpharius pulled out a detonator and pressed it.

The ship rumbled as an explosion shook the lower decks, throwing everyone off their feet. Nemo saw only ground as he landed, but the throw shattered whatever control the primarch had over his armor. On instinct the former captain rolled onto his feet and leapt forwards, his free hand reaching for his pistol. He never got the chance to fire. The instant it was pulled up for a shot, a glowing gate devoured his view and he was kneeling in the ruins of a city he knew all too well. For few who saw its past glory, could forget the beauty of Phoenicia.

 

[Anarchy423]

The fact he discovered fucking Alpharius in 3 days its impressive... there are Primarchs that would take more time than that

 

[Saint_Bepis]

The fact he discovered fucking Alpharius in 3 days its impressive... there are Primarchs that would take more time than that

Click to shrink...

Unless getting caught was "part of the plan"

 

[Anarchy423]

Unless getting caught was "part of the plan"

Click to shrink...

Spoiler: As planned

 

[Saint_Bepis]

Chapter 5: Who Remembers the Phoenix?
​

Nemo slowly gathered himself and stood. He looked up at the sky and through the sky in time to see the Glory far off in the distance explode in a bright blue flash. He could only hope that the ship took down the traitor with him. Nemo shakily stood up from his kneeling position and felt his left knee buckle under his weight. The pain forced him back down, but he grabbed the rubble of a wall and forced himself up to his feet cursing his failing body as he did so. With a small flourish, his sword and pistol were both holstered at his hip, but one item eluded his sight: his cane. The cane had been left aboard the Glory and while Nemo could walk without it, the value of the implement was far more than practical. He left out a deflated sigh and his shoulders slumped, but as he did so something caught his eye. Far off amid the rubble of the destroyed city was a structure that had not collapsed fully and there were flickers of movement nearby it. Nemo's eyes narrowed under his helmet, and he carefully began to make his way forwards.

As he climbed over the ruins of places that he had seen long ago, their former glory seemed to rise up around him like ghostly reminders. For a moment he thought he heard a voice whispering to him. Not a single word was intelligible, but Nemo felt his hair raise on end and his left hand caressed the grip of his pistol. Finally, he reached the location where he was moving towards, but all he found was a statue. It was partially destroyed and sat in the middle of a plaza. There was nothing above the waist, but the bottom remained mostly intact along with every intricate detail. The marble was carved into the shape of armor an intricate filigree adorned the trim and while the color had faded there was no mistaking the Chemosian Purple dye made from the crushed shells of specific shellfish during the restoration projects enacted by Fulgrim. This statue was built to commemorate the construction of the city of Phoenicia and by extension, Fulgrim's rise to power.

Nemo let his gauntlets run over the surface of the marble and small flakes of purple and gold paint came off on his fingertips and the aged marine looked at it almost entranced. There was a rustling sound that started him out of his stupor and his sword flashed before him only to stop short of a small varmint that squeaked and ran from the obvious danger. The old captain let out a sigh and sheathed his sword, his hand shaking as he did and he took a moment to compose himself. Breathing deeply, the filtered air of the destroyed city only brought with it a bone deep sorrow, but as he exhaled he heard a new noise far off in the distance. Nemo's eyes narrowed and his helmet amplified his vision without delay; down the easternmost street, there was a building that Nemo knew all too well. Its former glory shimmered in place of what was now a pile of broken stone. The golden paint was mostly stripped from its body and its windows had long since been shattered but the expertly crafted walls still stood if somewhat slumped over from years of neglect. It was the concert hall, one of the many cultural institutions that grew in the wake of the reforms that Fulgrim made to the planet, but the exterior was not what interested Nemo. Through a large hole in the wall, there could be spied an organ still operational if the faint music coming from it was anything to go by and while the player was obscured, two slender human hands could be seen pressing the keys. Nemo began to walk as fast as his body would allow him to, but in spite of his age he seemed to move with a vigor only seen in younger men. One hand though, remained atop the pommel of his blade.

The exterior of the concert hall looked much the same up close as it did from far away the major difference was the organ. The pipe system sounded damaged, but that did not stop the player. Nemo recognized the song as soon as he had heard the melody; it was an old Chemosian tale told about their old gods and how they abandoned the planet to its fate, but they promised their champion would come and bring them everything they would need to thrive once more. It was supposed to be an upbeat song with a catchy melody, but this version was somber and the key had been changed from major into minor. Despite the key change the song was unmistakable, but the only thing missing was the vocals. The old captain knew not the man playing as he had always been out of frame on his auspex, but just as the song was recognizable, so too was the voice that began to sing. Nemo only heard one word, and the world seemed to fall out from under him as one of his hearts literally stopped. No marine who had heard the voice of their father could ever forget it. His hands shaking, he pulled an many loose rock and rubble away from the collapsed doorway as fast as he could. Sitting at the instrument with his back turned to the intruding marine was a tall man clad in Chemosian purple silk and accented with golden patterns on the edges of the garment sat the last person Nemo ever expected to see.

Fulgrim, uncorrupted from all warp taint sat on the bench of a pipe organ his long fingers expertly struck the keys in front of him coaxing a depressing and haunting melody from the instrument as he vented all the emotions he had been holding in over the decades since his victory over his corrupted self. Yet that victory was tainted. He had made a deal with a powerful Xeno to ensure the conflict went in his favor. As he played his song he lamented through verse his rise to power and his fall. The closing words of the song he had composed echoed throughout the concert hall: "Who remembers the Phoenix, before the blade?" As the music subsided a voice called out from far behind him: "I never forgot." The words were spoken so softly he almost missed it, but each syllable was punctuated with so much emotion ranging from relief to hatred, to sorrow. Fulgrim turned to see a marine standing by a freshly excavated door. His armor was black as night with only an odd symbol branded on the pauldrons it was an I with 6 bars protruding from the middle and a skull and crossed bones sat in the middle atop it. This was no marking that Fulgrim remembered from his brother's Legions, nor was it a symbol that he recognized from anywhere else during the Great Crusade. Yet there were some familiar markings. Whoever the strange Marine was he held the rank of Captain, and upon his hip…Fulgrim's train of thought froze as he recognized the blade the marine carried. It was a Charnabal Sabre there were no other Legions or marines that were allowed to wield them and each one was custom made for the marine by either a smith within the Legion or from a smith on Terra.

"Who are you?" Fulgrim's voice broke and he winced as he heard the pain in his own voice. But the reminder of the sons that he failed felt like a lump slowly pushing its way up his throat. The marine did not reply but simply raised his hands and removed his helmet. Fulgrim found himself looking into a mirror but the face staring back at him had his hair cut short rather than the long flowing locks of Fulgrim's own, but the biggest difference was the age. The one looking back at him had skin sagging along almost every portion of his face, yet his eyes were still sharp and the fire burning behind them was aimed directly at Fulgrim. Fulgrim involuntarily whispered: "Basil" and in the blink of an eye the marine had his pistol drawn, the plasma cartridge atop the gun glowed an ominous deep blue as it was trained without error between his eyes. The ancient voice unmodified by the vox croaked out a demand that brooked nothing other than unquestioning compliance. "What do you think you are doing, Traitor?"

The demand was met with silence, but Basil refused to allow his nerves to get the better of him. This was some kind of trick, Alpharius was well known for his subterfuge and a complex simulation of Chemos and an uncorrupted Fulgrim would not be beyond his machinations though to what end? Alpha Legion schemes were always multilayered and this could not be much different. The emotions within him threatened to bubble over, but as Fulgrim stood some 50 paces away, Basil was hoping that his eyes were not lying to him. Fulgrim took a step forwards and with only a slight twitch of his hand a ball of plasma flew past Fulgrim's right ear and smashed into the intact stained-glass window behind him. The window shattered and Fulgrim cringed. "Please Basil, I mean you no harm…I can't really explain anything it's a long story." Fulgrim was pleading that much was obvious, but for what? Yet the concern and relief seemed so genuine.

"Try and explain even if it takes days. I have waited for a moment like this for ten millennia I will not die of old age waiting a few more hours." Basil's voice held even but his disciple could not completely stifle the anticipation.

"Fabius Bile attempted to create a clone of the primarchs and started with me. He succeeded and when I attempted to usurp control of the Legion from my Daemonic self he betrayed me and had me imprisoned by making a deal with a Xeno by the name of Trayzn which lead to my imprisonment by him. Sometime during this imprisonment I managed to strike a deal with the Xeno to replace myself with the Daemonic version of myself. I weakened him in battle alongside a few unlikely allies and he was taken from me before I could deliver a killing blow." As Fulgrim spoke, the emotion slowly faded and Basil slowly began to lower his weapon but the emotions soon rolled back stronger than ever as Fulgrim continued.

"I have spent the last few decades on Chemos alone trying to find some way off this rock. It's no use though, there are no more ships that can fly on Chemos and all the promethium has long since been burned or consumed by time. I wanted to rebuild my legion and was repaid with betrayal. How can I possibly try and rejoin the Imperium that I helped build when I can't even convince my own sons to follow me? How can I do good when the man I swore to be, was the man that I betrayed?" Anger, shame and despair clung to every word as Fulgrim seemed to collapse back down onto the bench in front of the organ. Basil was convinced and holstered his pistol. The emotions were far too real and he had centuries of practice reading the mood of his Primarch to know that. Yet the ending of his story came, Fulgrim began to lament his own position slipping into a depression that Basil had seen far too many times. He walked the 50 paces until he stood in front of his Gene-Father their eyes at level height and without another word simply looking into the broken eyes of Fulgrim snapped his hand across the cheek of his Primarch.

The resulting slap echoed through the concert hall and as Fulgrim looked back at Basil from where his head had turned Basil only saw acceptance and began to change his approach.

"How dare you sit here and wallow in your own misery, Fulgrim." The former captain rebuked. His voice was hard, but there was a righteous anger flowing through every word of what he said. Fulgrim opened his mouth to respond but Basil cut him off with nothing more than a simple gesture. "I served in the Deathwatch without complaint for 10 milennia, I served under Tarvitz during the Massacre at Istvaan, I was there when the Legion first arrived on Chemos, I was there when we suffered from blight, I was there when the Emperor himself created the first of our Legion. I never gave up on the Imperium, the Emperor's Dream, the 3rd​ Legion or on the lessons that were passed down to the Sons. I will not allow you to sit on the sidelines and mope around feeling sorry for yourself when there is so much work to be done." Fulgrim sprang to his feet, energy swelling to his form as he met Basil's challenge.

"HOW?" He roared his eyes filled with wounded pride as Basil stood unflinching against the wrathful words of his gene-father. "How am I supposed to do any work when I cannot even leave this planet. How can I bring my own sons back under the banner of the Emperor?"

"Your sons have never abandoned the Emperor. The 3rd​ Legion maybe dissolved but that is only be cause we lack our leader. There are two chapters within the Imperium that bear your blood. As for my traitorous brothers they are too far gone to save and while they may follow you, you will never hold their loyalty." Basil's revelation stopped Fulgrim in his place.

"Truly there are loyal sons of the Legion?" The hope that creeped into Fulgrim's voice was infectious and he smiled. Bail's eyes softened and he nodded and he straightened his back and looking Fulgrim deep in the eyes and spoke words that Fulgrim remembered all too well.

"Fulgrim I represent your gene-sons. We are the 3rd​ Legion and you are our gene-father do you swear to lead us to victory in the name of Humanity, to build a better future for all those who come after us, and to protect the Imperium from all threats, both foreign and domestic." Basil's words were exactly the same as when they were first introduced all those years ago when the first of the Emperor's Children landed on Chemos contaminated with blight, sickly and dying. Fulgrim looked down at a much older Basil and spoke the same words that he did back then as well.

"I will lead you to victory. I will build mankind's future. I will protect the creations of my father and my sons until nothing seeks to harm them. I swear to you all, that I will lead you to greatness." Tears threatened to fall from Fulgrim's eyes but he fought them back as he finished. The memories all flashed before him, but the good ones, for the first time, outnumbered the bad ones. A cold wind blew into the room and Basil became alert drawing his weapons while Fulgrim felt the hair on his arm stand on end as he smelled a sickeningly sweet smell that precipitated the arrival of Chaos.







This Story is currently going on Hiatus until March

 

[Anarchy423]

............ you can hype me about seeing my boy Fulgrim only to make me wait till March..... where will I get my daily Fulgrim fix? RULE34?... well for the fem version yes but NOT THE MALE ONE.

Anyways, have a good Hiatus and I hope you come back without any complications