Unica Semper Avis (30k Space Marine Semi-SI)

[Tart]

829.M30 - Proxima Tetra - Planetside - Capital of Proxima Tetra​

Lupus Aeternus: Chapter 2

"I Was and Remain, a Luna Wolf."​

The plan was straightforward, the Astartes would land first after a swift orbital bombardment. We would go on foot to clear space for the Imperial army to land in heavier vehicles once the majority of hazards were cleared. All this a more detailed way of saying that the army would be picking up the scraps left by the Astartes.

Once we landed the battle had proceeded smoothly enough. The majority of my unit's drop pods had landed in some sort of industrial district initially. A head count would be done once the majority of my unit had been assembled.

Orders didn't need to be stated, the plan was already laid out ahead of time. The squad leaders would simply adjust their movements depending on the circumstances. The Luna Wolves were nothing if not well versed in adaptability.

After the first hour several hundred Astartes, including myself, had fought our way through hordes of enemies to make it to the central district of the city. We had managed to clear a good chunk of the city outskirts so far, and enemy resistance was at the level that was expected barring some unusual activity.

Our main goal was to regroup with the few drop pods that had been directed off course from our initial landing point, before taking the city.

It took several more hours of battle until my unit had made it past our initial landing point with little to no casualties from our initial landing group, thank the throne. It seemed the Proximan's favoured swarm tactics, but had clearly never been tested by a superior foe before.

After another hour we finally broke past the Industrial district of the city. The tall spire in the center of the city, now visible with more detail, but still far.

We marched upon a ruined residential district, nearby rubble from previous orbital bombardments surrounding my unit. Enemies lined every street and building in endless numbers as we fought towards what looked to be the city's noble district or perhaps an art center of sorts.

So far, everything from our initial landing at point Sicarius had been text book minus some bumps with the drop pods.

The battle so far was a fast, brutal and precise strike aimed at the heart of the enemy's leadership. Typical tactics for our legion, one decisive tactical strike aimed at breaking the enemies morale swiftly and leaving them headless. On paper, I could tell this was likely going to be one of the fastest recorded conquests for our legion.

But there was something wrong about the whole affair, from the placement of the planetary forces, to the formations of their armies. That wasn't the most telling sign however.

From the streets, to the walls, to the buildings. There was not a single sign of a civilian, no sign that these streets or places had been lived in for what appeared to be weeks. Only these soldiers and dark age constructs met us in overwhelming numbers.

But even as I fought under heavy enemy fire and attack. Even as I cut down mechanical constructs that showed no signs of retreat, I felt no real danger.

As fearsome as these foes would normally be, they were cut apart far too easily. Their charges held no coordination, merely running at us blindly. They seemed to have no concept of moral, regardless of how many we killed they only continued to charge.

The only foes that ever used such reckless maneuvers were either savages or madmen, but all reports indicated the Proximan's were neither. This was supposed to be an advanced civilization, one that was at a level where it could have joined the Imperium as is. Not some barbaric techno overlord, or some Xenos cult world.

There was something wrong about all this, I felt a strong sinking feeling in my chest for the first time since my first deployment. Not since the time when the Emperor arrived with Horus on Cthonia all those years ago and claimed it for the Imperium.

The feeling only grew worse the longer we fought, and the more I encountered the enemy's mortal army.

These Proximan soldiers, at least the few we found amongst them, were…wrong. Their eyes were glassy and unfocused. Their mouths were muttering words that I couldn't quite make out even with my transhuman senses. Their bodies were scarred, their flesh torn from a bladed weapon of sorts, and their skin was a waxy white as if they hadn't seen the sun in decades.

But the wounds drew more of my attention, they were too precise, far too intentional to ignore. A common theme I noted about enemy bodies was the number of scars. Multiple scars marked these Proximan rebels, and the number six seemed to be etched onto their bodies. It even seemed to be engrained into the very formation of their troops.

I stabbed my Chain Sword into another construct, gore and viscera spraying everywhere. Scanning my surroundings for anything, but there were still no signs of any civilians or noncombatants in the deeper districts of the city.

This was wrong, this was supposed to be a capital city, a hub of humanity. Instead it seemed as if the entire population had been whisked away and taken.

Where had the civilians gone? Why did the city seem almost abandoned? Where were the enemy's heavier vehicles and emplacements. But the most damning question of all, was why had the Proximan's developed a fixation on that number six…where did six fit into all this?

I no longer felt that this would be an easy conquest, but pride prevented me from stopping now.

The world itself felt wrong, like something was lurking beneath the surface of the planet itself. The whole ordeal smelled of treachery, and I would not be found wanting when the enemy sprung whatever trap it had laid. I might not have all the pieces put together, but I could at least prepare my brothers and myself for whatever may appear.

I would find my answer, one way or another.

My steps halted as my unit met a particularly strong amount of resistance near one of the city squares. Several hordes of enemies surrounded some of the lost drop pods from our initial landing. There seemed to be more human soldiers with this group of enemies as well for some reason.

"Move in and flank them, clear a path for the injured." I ordered over my vox, several squads of Astartes immediately laying suppressing fire on the enemy ranks while others used jump packs to get into more viable shooting angles on top of buildings.

After several minutes, the enemy seemed to be getting pushed back in certain areas of the conflict. Far too easily than the level of resistance they had put up initially, and far too soon.

I narrowed my eyes from my position, kicking away a construct while changing tactics.

"Make a perimeter! Slow our advance! The enemy should not be breaking under this level of assault! Prepare for a possible ambush at any time." I shouted from my position in the middle of the city square.

"Lieutenant! Why are we stalling our advance?" Came the vox from a sergeant of another squad of marines, his group had been one to breach more deeply in the enemy ranks. "We have the enemy by the throat! They can't possibly overwhelm us!"

"Do not break formation under any circumstances. That's an order sergeant!" I said again sternly, making sure my voice was heard over the vox to all the groups in my unit. "Or am I fighting with the Wolves of Fenris instead of the sons of Lupercal?"

While my words earned a few grumbles over the vox for a moment, the squads complied immediately. Astartes pulled back their advances towards the enemy and back towards our perimeter while switching to ranged combat.

Stowing away my Chain Sword and Bolt Pistol, I grabbed the Bolter behind my hips. Joining my brothers in the firing lane and firing shot after shot of sustained destruction at the opposing forces.

In a matter of moments the battle went from a brawl to slaughter. Constructs and soldiers being gunned down with extreme prejudice by combined Bolter fire. Astartes from any possible angle shattering any form of cohesion the enemy sought to keep.

For a long span of time, the only sound that echoed in the city square was the sound of Bolter shells and the dying screams of Constructs.

Around the time we had ground remaining enemy forces by half, their plot surfaced. The ground below us rumbled briefly before several thousand constructs burst up from the streets. Likely placed there with the initial intent of picking off my brothers by surprise in an ambush.

Unfortunately their plans had failed, and I savored the next moment. My vox sparking to life as every brother around me heard my roar. "Kill for the living! Kill for the dead! We slaughter them in the name of the primarch! For Lupercal! For the Emperor!"

"For Lupercal! For the Emperor!" Came the resounding shout around me, as we shifted from ranged combat to glorious melee.

My hands moved just as swiftly as I switched out my Bolter for my main weapons again. Charging into the enemy lines while firing precise shots from my Bolt Pistol, Chain Sword revving and eager to chew in the Proximan abominations.

Around me my brothers let out a roar, charging into the enemy lines, eager for blood. The barrage of Bolter fire gave way to the unstoppable charge of Astartes eager to shed blood. Cutting through the horde as it charged at us and tearing a path of gore through the Constructs.

Several Constructs screeched and ran at me as I charged into the very forefront of the battle, adrenaline spiking as I met each construct with brutal efficiency. My arm swung rapidly in a flurry of movements, my chain sword leaving afterimages in its wake and cleaving through multiple Proximan constructs.

Yet more charged, crawling and screeching over the corpses of the initial Constructs. Lunging and pushing each other away to get a chance at clawing at me.

Instead the first of the Constructs tasted the bite of my Chain Sword, Mors Caedor cleaving it in half. The constructs top half rolling on the ground behind me without ceremony.

I didn't get to take a single breath, when another Construct swung at me clumsily. I ducked under the blow and emptied the magazine of my Bolt Pistol into its abdomen. Mors Caedor finished the squealing beast off, my leg lifting up and kicking its corpse at the charging group behind it.

As the pile of flailing constructs impaled each other to escape, I took a quick scan of the battle. Noticing the mortal enemies within the enemy lines trying to regroup.

My sight locked onto a particular crew of Proximan's, the mortal soldiers attempting to set up an emplacement since the first time I landed here.

I wouldn't give them the chance to even fire a single shot.

I reloaded my Bolt Pistol, and Impaled the first charging Construct that escaped the pile I made. Using its flailing and screaming body as cover while taking aim at the mortals.My feet dug into the dirt as I held multiple charging constructs at bay each one impaling the one I used as a makeshift shield.

In a matter of moments, I pushed the Constructs back. My Bolt Pistol firing multiple precise shots at several soldiers that had begun aiming emplacements towards me and my men. Each shot turned the would-be shooters into a bloody mist and lost limbs.

I wasn't done there, I focused on the flailing mass of constructs in my grasp. I started moving, slowly, one step at a time. Then I started running, emptying my Bolt Pistol into the mass of Constructs as I bulldozed through the enemies with my makeshift battering ram.

When I reached the peak of my momentum, my foot stomped hard on the ground, halting my charge. With a mighty swing of my right hand, I flung the makeshift ram of Constructs towards the enemy lines and created a 2 meter gap between us.

For a moment there was a pause on my side of the battle as I stood across the seemingly shocked Constructs. Looking around the battle was well and truly done at this point. Each group's sergeants had command well under control and the Proximan's looked to be truly breaking this time.

I decided now was a time to let loose and act recklessly.

Loud and obvious for the enemy to see, I slammed Mors Caedor into the street in front of me. Drawing more attention to myself as Imade a show of the next words to leave my mouth.

"Hah! Is this really all you've got? Is this the extent of Proxima's 'glorious' civilization?" I asked out loud, speaking to the enemy for the first time since the attack began. Ejecting my Bolt Pistols empty magazine with a quick flick of my wrist before reloading it with a loud click. "Pathetic! Though I am curious…do abominations even possess fear?"

My query was met with as much screeching and roars as I expected. The horde resumed their charge, serrated teeth and arm blades aimed at me. The momentary pause was broken as I met them eagerly.

"I suppose that's a no…hehehahahaha! Very well! Come at me!" I roared with laughter. My Chains Sword, Mors Caedor roared as if it were eager for more violence. "I believe my father said it best after meeting Primarch Russ…you can't teach every dog a lesson…you have to beat it into them!"

The next hour had been the most fun I had in several months. Likely the most fun any of my fellow Luna Wolves had, the Crusade had grown slightly dull in recent times due to numerous peaceful compliances.

This was a nice change of pace.

 

[Tart]

829.M30 - Proxima Tetra - Edge of the Proximan System - Orbit above Proxima Tetra - Bucephalus​

???: Chapter 1

"All men wish to possess knowledge, but few are willing to pay the price"​

829.M30 - Proxima Tetra - Edge of the Proximan System - Orbit above Proxima Tetra - Bucephalus

??? POV

Onboard one of the private rooms of the Bucephalus, I watched the display on the current progress made on Proxima Tetris. My hand clenched tighter around my halberd, psychic might igniting the weapon as I focused on the capital of the planet. Specifically on the main spire of the city, my eyes narrowing at the massive spire projected on the data.

If this were in the past, I would have inquired more, wanted to explore and delve deeper in the knowledge of the spire.

But I was unbearably naive about the dangers the Imperium faced in the past. Now? Now I knew the danger, now I knew what we faced, and the value of keeping a secret buried and well forgotten or ignored.

Now I stood by the side of my mentor, clad in a new prototype Terminator Armor. My colors a mix of crimson and silver, the gold accents shining across my armor. The seals across the armors plates, hand made by my mentor to better destroy the minions of the great enemy.

The great enemy that I knew for certain was on Proxima Tetras.

They had made their move, and pushed their pieces. Though I couldn't scry into the specifics of what would happen in the city, I could smell their scent. I turned towards my superior, me mentor, The Sigilite and his retinue of Custodians to voice my thoughts.

Although they probably knew the enemy was already present.

"The situation has changed lord Malcador. I suspect the enemy have moved their pieces." I spoke, noting how the Custodians beside the Sigilite tensed slightly. Even with my training under the Sigilite and our father, I had no doubts a single Custodian could kill me within nanoseconds, let alone the four present in the room. "Should the fifteenth intervene?"

The Sigilite took a breath, and looked at me. I felt a cold tingle down my spine as his eyes bore into my own. I knew despite his aged appearance, this man was the most powerful in the room. The Custodians' presence beside him was a mere formality, and my own presence was simply a whim of his.

"No, not yet. Your presence will be called upon soon, but I will not tip our hand yet." Said Malcador after a long moment of silence. "You still seek vengeance for the mutations don't you?"

I felt my anger spike at that word, arcane power building up instantly around me, the custodians in the rooms instantly raising their guardian spears. Just as my power reached its zenith, I started calming down. Gradually lowering my psychic might and letting out a breath, the materium around me returning to normal. This was just a probe by the Sigilite, testing me again in the event I faced the great enemy.

The Custodian's in the room lowered their spears, and I heard shuffling steps move away from the door to the room. Likely the Sisters of Silence that had left earlier when the Sigilite had asked for my presence.

Thankfully this was only done in this secure room on the Bucephalus. I felt a slight shame over my immature reaction to the Sigilite's probe.

"The past is irrelevant to the current situation my lord." I lied, truthfully when me and my brothers were told the truth of our 'gene defect', a great rage had taken us.

It had been decades since our father had managed to stall our gene mutation with the Emperor's help. But the old wounds still festered, their actions were only a stop gap measure.

Our entire legion was pulled from the Crusade shortly after the first signs of the change. We had initially believed this was a punishment, that we would be purged due to our…mutations.

Instead we were given a chance to train under the Emperor himself and our father, and despite the distance between us, our legion had never been more united. This was when we learned the truth, and where the Emperor told our father of his purpose.

Yes, my legion had 'reunited' with our father a few short decades after the Crusade had started, and when the gene defects first appeared. The Emperor had seemingly made some sort of psychic contact with him all the way from Terra. It was as if he already knew where our father was…strange.

Naturally the news had made the Astartes of our legion, myself included. We could not wait until the day we could meet our father.

Not everything was good news, the mutations had already taken many of our brothers lives before our father and the Emperor managed to stall its progress. By the time they had halted the corruption, our number had been reduced to a mere thousand.

Thankfully that was the worst of it, once that had ended the legion had been able to rapidly replenish its numbers. The initial thousand marines, myself included. Were to be trained during this period of rapid recruitment.

Not training in combat, our legion had that training well underhand. No, we would be trained to fight the enemy.

During our time away from the crusade we were trained by the Emperor's best warriors, and the Sigilite. A thousand marines brought to the moon of mars, and reforged into a weapon of vengeance and arcane might. While our father learned and studied under the Emperor himself.

We would be the hammer against the enemy should they appear. Our father the scalpel and lynchpin against the enemy, once the final planet was claimed, when humanity stood victorious, only then, would our vengeance be quelled.

When our legion returned to the Crusade, it was not as a nameless mutated band of a thousand Astartes. We returned renewed and reinvigorated.

On the surface we were a proper fighting force again. While deep beneath it all, we were more, the thousand initial marines becoming something more.

The Sigilite had trained us well, we were now Daemon Hunters. Routing out whatever subtle influence the great enemy would leave on humanity.

It had been decades since then, which brought my focus to the present. On the current moves being made by the Sigilite and the Emperor.

"I thought the point of subtlety was to avoid bringing the enemy's presence to light." I continued, trying to brush over the topic of the mutations. Psychic power lingering from my halberd to my finger tips. "Why risk exposure to one of the Imperium's most prized legions? I don't understand lord Malcador, what is the end game here?"

"Ever inquisitive, much like your father… hmm I'll explain. But let's start at the beginning shall we…What do you know of the Unification Wars?" Malcador responded with a question of his own.

"Only what was written down, I have studied it extensively in the libraries in the Imperial Palace."

"Then you only know the surface level information…tell me what do you know of Europa and its conquest?"

I tilted my head at that. "It was a slaughter, the Thunder Warriors brutalised the noble legions of Europa and brought them to heel. He would later use the scions of the Europan nobles as stock for multiple legions, but prominently the Third Legion, correct?"

"You are…mostly correct…You see, Revelation. That is, the Emperor. He met a child in Europa, one that changed the course of our plans for the galaxy." Malcador nodded at that, his wizened features softening as if he were reminiscing about some long forgotten event. "You heard the stories, how we warned your legion and your father about the enemy…but there is more, you see that child…"

The next words that were spoken shocked me to my core, every revelation from the Sigilite threatening to upend everything I knew. For a moment, I almost lost control of my powers at each revealed truth, each word hammering in my heart.

I felt something hot building up in my core and spreading towards my clenched fist.

At this moment, I wished I never asked the question.

In this one single moment, I learned that I could still feel horror and fear.

"That's…That's not possible…what you're saying is…"

"Yet it is possible. At first we were skeptical of the child, even suspecting. Then the Emperor had started events earlier… and things lined up too perfectly with the child's words. Once is coincidence, twice happenstance, but three times?" Spoke the Sigilite evenly, arcane might blazing in his eyes as I felt myself forcefully calm down. My hands stowed away the Psychic force I had been unknowingly building up. "It changed things…changed how we would play the game…the enemy thinks of us as pieces on the board, but since Europa the very nature of the game itself has changed."

Malcador slammed his staff on the floor, his next words shaking my core.

"The future is uncertain. But this time humanity will not lose, the enemy will be beaten." He spoke, his words infused with his true might. "They have made their bets, moved their pieces, and we have let them. Because for every flap of their wings, for every pathetic action taken in the dark, we have prepared a hundred fold."

Like that, the power emanating from Malcador dispersed. I let out a breath, feeling cold sweat underneath my terminator plate.

I never thought the Sigilite would be capable of such passion.

Still the question lingered.

"Then why keep my squad here instead of on the planet?"

Malcador smiled. "To maximize your value, a hammer is only useful in a precise and devastating strike. I want you to arrive when we can hurt the enemy most, when they think we are blind and they have won."

I couldn't fault the reason, but still felt the need to speak up for my cousins.

"But what of the Luna Wolves on the planet's surface? They are unprepared fo-"

"What happens to them is not a concern, everything is well at hand. There are plans already in place for the Luna Wolves and Horus." Malcador interrupted, brushing aside the question.

I knew my teacher well enough to tell the matter was done and over with. I could only hope, hope that my cousins below would be prepared for what they were to face, and hope I could help soon.

There was only one question I had left to ask.

"What happened to the child, my lord?" I asked, I had to know.

Malcador simply held my gaze before he let out a laugh. "Hahaha, he grew up. Even now he aids us against the enemy. You have even met him on occasion, captain."

I had? But I would have had recollection if I ever met a child such as the one Lord Malcador had talked about. In fact, the only possible candidate for who the child was would have been a member of the Legiones Astar-

"No…you didn't…" I let out a shocked gasp. "But that would…"

Malcador slouched slightly before letting out an aged sigh. "It was the child's request, done to better strike at the enemy where they would attack us."

"The Primarchs and their legions…" I said solemnly. The pieces came together, why the Emperor and my father could so easily solve our mutations, how the Emperor found our father within a few short decades and connected us psychically.

"We owe this child our lives…all of us. Why tell me this my lord?"

"Because…like that child, I choose to believe in you and your legion." Malcador nodded. "Yes…your legion and others owe their lives to that child…he gave us time. How will you repay this debt?"

"Who is this child?"

"His name is…"

I committed the name to memory, burned it in with oaths and arcane sorcery for the future. Moving my hand and placing it over my heart.

"In the name of the crimson king, as captain of the 15th legion, in my duties as one of the Grand Masters of the Grey Knights, and as an adept sorcerer of the Immaterium. I Khafra, vow to repay this life debt." I said solemnly out loud to the Sigilite, removing my hand to reveal the oath bound to the very fabric of my being, my very soul, and under my true name. "What do we do now my lord?"

"Now? Now we wait, and let the enemy place their pieces on the board before we flip the table." Said the Sigilite in a composed manner. "Prepare your squad, they will be needed in the coming hours."

I nodded before leaving the Sigilite's chambers, my steps solemn and my purpose more clear than ever.

I could not have known how much grief this vow would save me and my legion far into the future, nor the brotherhood I would have with certain Astartes. Some remaining close friends and others being bitter enemies.

Khafra POV END
Ma'at: Chapter 1 - The Game and Oaths​

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Author note: Okay and that is all the side stories done and the main story so far! Gonna be writing this in my docs now, and posting this elsewhere later.